#when rodney's not even around

[stargatebarbie]

it's SO important to me that they play chess together. and that they play prime not prime, quiz eachother on tv & movies, play with rc cars, play virtual golf. but especially the chess

[01zfan]

film it | l. sh

skateboarder!sohee x videographer!reader | 7k words

ninona lore this took me back to my skateboarding days…don’t know why i didn’t realize the tea with skateboarding sohee earlier.

i listened to tape you by N.E.R.D. while writing this. also the music i imagined for the highlight reel is humps for the boulevard by rodney o and joe cooley!

contains: sex & recording the act (consensual), mentions of skateboarding related injuries (nothing major)

you always heard sohee first.

the sound of the wheels on his skateboard gliding across the ground behind you. you only saw him like a flash of light, there one second gone the next and always followed by his crew of skateboarders. the only time he had spoken to you was the warnings that he was coming behind you and he didn’t plan on slowing down. 

your interaction with sohee was so limited that you thought he was talking to someone else when he first addressed you.

“hey!” he yelled to you.

you looked around the skating park to see who sohee was talking to. you sat on the bench, mouthful of your sandwich when you realized sohee was looking straight at you. when you pointed to yourself sohee nodded, smiling back at his friends before he continued.

“you good with a camera?” he asked, still yelling.

your shitty camcorder sat next to you, resting on top of your recently bought board. you had picked up a hobby last minute for the summer, in no way at all was that connected to the man that spoke to you. you swallowed your bite before nodding your head, instinctually dusting crumbs off of your body.

“yeah.” you yelled back.

sohee looked back to his friends one last time, all of them giving him nods of approval.

“can you film us doing some tricks?” he asked.

you nodded your head with a little too much enthusiasm, and you got up from your spot on the ground a little too quickly. maybe something about the acknowledgment made you feel vindicated, or maybe you liked having something to do. being at the skatepark alone was less fun than you thought it would be, so you leapt at the chance to spend time with people. they didn’t care that you were wobbly on your skateboard, they slowed down as they gave you instructions on where they were going so you could follow them. 

“i’m gonna start on the a-frame and then go to the euro gap.” taesan instructed, pointing at each structure.

“got it.” you chirped.

you started the camera at taesan’s face, going all the way down to his feet planted on the skateboard. before taesan could start, another one of sohee’s friends skated behind you. you turned the camcorder quickly to face him, and he looked shocked for a moment before adjusting to the camera. 

“make sure you get him eating shit too.” leehan said.

you turned the camera back to taesan as the rest of the crew laughed behind you.

“you can’t even nollie flip.” taesan teased.

“fuck you.” leehan laughed.

the rest of the day you spent with sohee and his crew, filming their tricks and them bickering with one another. they even taught you how to be more steady on your board while recording at the same time. 

by the time you guys were done the sun was setting and you all smelled like sweat. you could feel how dirty the clothes you wore were, your shirt felt like a dirty rag that dried in the sun on your body. even if you all smelled and were all still sweating from the heat you ended the day at the top of the ramp huddled together watching the raw footage. they all crowded around the tiny viewfinder, laughing at their failures and exclaiming at the successful attempts at tricks. sohee constantly praised your recording ability, to which you shook your head each time. 

“it’s nothing really.” you pointed at the screen, waiting for a certain part you knew would illicit a reaction. “this is when leehan scraped his knee trying to nollie flip.” you said.

when the videos were finished, sohee’s friends began grabbing their things but sohee lingered close to you. he waited until you looked up from your camcorder to him, and he turned at the same time. you got flustered and sohee smiled at you trying to avoid eye contact, only breaking away when another one of his friends spoke.

“i’m tired as hell. i’m going home.” seunghan said, throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

“me too.” haewon got up from the ramp, using a grip on your shoulder to push herself up.

seunghan made his way down the ramp and the others followed. you found sohee lingering behind once again, waiting for you to grab your things. while his other friends walk ahead, he stayed behind to walk with you. he adjusts the backpack on his shoulder and looks to his friends that talk ahead of you two.

“i mean it though,” sohee turns to face you. “you’re really good at recording us.” he says.

now it’s your turn to adjust your backpack, shaking your head shyly the same way you did before.

“it’s nothing really.” you say awkwardly.

you and sohee walked in silence, the only sound between the two of you was his dragging feet on the cement. you clutched your hand around your camcorder, the feeling of now or never crossed your mind as you spoke.

“i would love to film you guys.” sohee turned to you. “for the summer. maybe even make a little highlight reel maybe.” you offered.

you saw sohee open his mouth, his hand going to the back of his neck before the rest of the crew overheard you. seunghan basically leaped on your shoulders, all of them jumped around you thanking you for taking the time out of your summer to film them. haewon promised she’d teach you how to really skate and leehan said he would master the nollie flip by the end of the summer. the only person that wasn’t enthusiastic was sohee. your eyes stayed on the hand that was scratching at the nape of his neck. 

when the crew dispersed to skate back home, you found out that both you and sohee had to go in the same direction. when you thought you’d hear the familiar warning of him behind you on his skateboard you instead heard the sound of his feet running on the road to catch up to you. 

even with the nice gesture, without sohee’s crew to fill the silence between you both it was awkward. his lack of enthusiasm when you offered to film them for the summer still weighed heavy on your mind, making you feel tense. you two walked in complete silence, you even purposely went on a different path to separate from sohee. he watched you as you started walking diagonally behind him, trying to cut through a residential area.

“i’m going this way.” you said, pointing to a beaten path.

sohee looked down at the skateboard in his hand. he looked forward on the road he was walking on. for a moment underneath the light of the streetlamp he looked like he wanted to say something. the two of you lingered underneath the artificial light, getting ready to walk on your own separate paths.

“i’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked, still standing in the same place.

sohee nodded, putting his skateboard down on the road next to him. he tightened the straps on his backpack as he got on his board.

“yeah. see you tomorrow.” he said.

and with that, sohee started skating down the road to head home. you stayed underneath the light of the streetlamp, trying to think about what you did wrong. the cicadas matched the buzzing in your mind as you ran through every single interaction you had with sohee. when you realized he probably hated the idea of someone basically inviting themselves to join the crew it all made sense. you didn’t even think in the moment how presumptuous you were being, you just let anything fall from your lips to fill the silence. you cringed to yourself, even letting out an audible groan as you realized your social fumble.  

you thought about your fumble for the rest of the night as you watched videos on how to make a successful highlight reel for skating. you even uploaded old files from your camcorder that you had been putting off to make room for new skating videos.

you came to the conclusion the following day that sohee was confusing. despite him not seeming apprehensive of you becoming a temporary member of his crew, he spent an ungodly time around you. during the breaks he would ask what you packed for lunch, while the rest of his crew convened he would find his way next to you asking for your thoughts. each time you shook your head, not feeling it was your place to give input as a temporary member of the group.

sohee lingering only got worse as the summer went on. he picked up the habit of waiting beside you at all times, even when he was up next for a trick. you became sohee’s director, telling him from behind the camera to go stand with the rest of the crew, or to go to the ramp because he was next. each time he was caught off guard, smiling and shaking his head before jogging to his correct spot. he eventually became something like your shadow, always watching the raw footage over your shoulder at the end of each practice. he would always make sure you could hear his reactions, letting out ooh’s and aah’s each time he saw something cool. sohee even began offering to come with you on the dirt path to your home—you believed that was the first time you ever saw sohee give up the chance to ride his skateboard. 

by the end of the summer, when the video was almost finished and your relationship with sohee was even more confusing than before. you knew at the very least that sohee liked your camerawork. he complimented you so much throughout the summer that you had finally gotten use to the praise. you accepted all of his kind words with a smile on your face. but even if sohee gave you compliments, something still felt off. you were friends with other people in the crew, you had worked up a good rapport and a good friendship to the point that you become something more than an omniscient viewer of the life. but you still couldn’t pinpoint what you were to sohee, and as a result you couldn’t determine what he was to you. 

as the final month of summer approached, you had given up completely on trying to figure out sohee. you instead put all of your effort into the video, spending weeks perfecting everything. you don’t know why you worked so hard on it—you took the extra steps to add segments for all the different tricks. you added bloopers at the end, all the failed attempts as something to laugh at. you had a sleepless week for no reason, trying to find the perfect background music and sync it with the transitions. when you were done you even went the extra mile to burn it to a DVD, keeping it safe in your backpack before heading to the park. 

you were extra excited at the skatepark, the nerves of showing the crew your finished video made you antsy. they had stopped asking you when the video would be done a long time ago. they wanted to give you time, but without fail towards the end of practice everyday they would be waiting with bated breath for an update. you had told the crew it’s almost ready a million times and told them just one more week nearly a month ago. when everyone was grabbing their things getting ready to go you held your backpack close to your body, remembering the DVD that sat at the bottom.

“so about that video.” you tried not to laugh when everyone whipped their heads around to look at you. “i finished it.” you said nonchalantly.

despite you trying to remain casual everyone instantly reacted. all of the crew immediately started jumping up and down, circling around you as they waited for you to show them the proof. when you pulled out the DVD they ooh’d and aah’d at the novelty of it all. everyone wanted to see the video, and it didn’t take long before the crew was following you home to watch the highlight reel. 

you corralled everyone into your recently cleaned room, clearing off your chairs to try and accommodate for the extra bodies. you found your seat on the ground at the foot of your bed between leehan and sohee. you tried not to think too much about how close you were to sohee compared to leehan, instead focusing on your growing nerves of showing something you spent so much time on. you leaned forward to pull the DVD from it’s translucent green holder, putting it in your player and closing it. you sat back in your same spot while everyone waited for it to start

the music started playing before the video played. a loud intro, the beat making everyone nod their heads. the beginning of the highlight reel played as an intro for everyone in the crew, earning a small cheer each time someones name popped up. everyone commented on the special effects, and when the actual tricks started everyone only got more excited. you turned to the side during the video, trying to silently gauge everyone’s reaction. you felt relief seeing everyone smile and deeply involved in the video. you felt even more relieved seeing sohee so clearly enjoying it. he had his palms keeping him propped up, his stretched out legs swaying to the beat of the music. when something particularly cool happened he turned and looked at you, and you had to turn quickly to face your small television. 

when the video was over, everyone was silent for a moment. before doubt could even enter your mind, seunghan spoke first.

“that was perfect.” he said.

almost instantly, everyone else started agreeing. everyone wanted to know how you did it, what song you used to play in the background, why you put so much effort into it. when leehan asked for a copy everyone else started agreeing, saying they wanted their own copy too. you felt high in demand, waving your hands to try and get everyone to quiet down.

“i can burn some extra DVD’s.” you looked to your computer and the stack of DVD’s you already had piled up next to your monitor. “it might take awhile, but i can get it to you guys.” you said.

“take all the time you need.” taesan said.

everyone nodded in agreement, not wanting to rush you anymore.

“i could probably burn them tonight. have them ready tomorrow” you said.

“i can stay.” everyone turned to sohee still sitting on the shag rug. “help you burn them. i live right over there anyway.” sohee said.

he projected his voice and gave his reasons to everyone in the room, but he stayed looking at you. when you nodded your head wordlessly, sohee smiled before going back to looking at the television. the rest of the crew exchanged looks, but they didn’t bother to press the conversation any further.

it wasn’t long before everyone was collecting their things and grabbing the trash of the snacks from the convenience store you guys raided. everyone talked about seeing you soon, and thanking you for the video. when you walked everyone out sohee stayed behind to start burning the DVD’s for you.

when you made it back into your room, you saw that your computer was already in the process of burning a DVD. sohee was back in his original spot at the foot of your bed, knees drawn to his chest as he looked up at you. suddenly you wished you had declined his offer to stay and help. you had narrowly avoided being alone with sohee all summer, but now here he was sitting on your shag rug looking up at you. sohee timidly tapped the spot you were sitting earlier, and you tried your best to seem nonchalant as you sat next to him.

the silence stretched on for a long time. for awhile, it was just you and sohee listening to your computer etch the video into the DVD, and the sound of birds chirping outside your window. when you heard the sound of your metal bed frame creaking due to sohee leaning on it, you kept your eyes on him. he rocked side to side, his knees still drawn closely to his chest.

“the video was really cool by the way.” he said.

you started picking at the strands on your orange shag rug, suddenly feeling too embarrassed to look at him. the fact that you could feel him looking down at you didn’t help, it only made you focus on anything in your room but him.

“thank you.” you said, smiling to the ground.

sohee scooted closer to you, until his foot was in your line of sight. you still refused to look at him, the feeling of embarrassment kept your eyes trained on the rug. the two of you are silent, and you can hear sohee shift as he takes in a deep breath.

“can you look at me?”  he asks quietly.

you look up to sohee quickly, not sure why you listened to him over the screaming voice in your head. he looked at you gently, gaze flickering over the features on your face. having him this close to you made you want to recoil away, but you didn’t want to miss a single second of him taking you in. when he scooted closer you didn’t back away, even if you felt a pounding in your chest and skull. 

“you’re really cool.” sohee complimented.

you let your hands rest in your lap, instead picking at your fingers over the shag carpet. your mouth felt to dry to speak, but you nodded and tried swallowing your spit just to wet your mouth.

“you too.” you said back.

sohee leaned into you quickly. it was too fast for you to recognize what was going on, one moment you were thinking about sohee and the next he was so close to you that his breath fanned your face. his lips were soft against yours, and for a moment you two stayed like that, with sohee leaned into you while both of your lips were still. he pulled away before moving his lips against yours, the tiny sound of your separation permeating in your brain.

“is this okay?” he asked.

“i’m so confused.” when sohee tilted his head in confusion you continued. “did you like the video that much?” you asked.

“i was kinda afraid i wasn’t being obvious enough.” sohee laughed.

when he saw the same confused expression on your face his hand went to scratch at the back of his neck. 

“i really like spending time with you.” sohee admitted.

”i thought you didn’t even want me in the group.” you said.

as you remembered sohee’s reaction when you offered to film the crew’s highlight reel, his face completely changed. instantly he was shaking his head, putting his hands on your shoulder to bring your attention to him.

“i didn’t want you to think i was using you because of your camera. i wanted to find a way to spend time with you.” he clarified.

when sohee tells you his reasoning everything makes sense. the way he stuck to you at the skatepark, how he always watched you so carefully when you were trying to skate. you realized the tense atmosphere when he would walk you home was the complete opposite of apprehensiveness. even though everything makes sense, you still feel upset. when your eyebrows furrow you see sohee instantly become apologetic.

“are you mad at me?” sohee looks back to your computer and sohee starts shuffling to stand up. “i should probably go.” he says.

before sohee can fully get up, you grab his arm. he freezes instantly, and when you guide him back to the ground he follows immediately. when he bites his lip nervously you want to tell him you could’ve been kissing all summer underneath the street lamps of your neighborhood if he had just been more upfront with you. you could’ve been sneaking around and pushing him up against the chainlink fence that surrounded the skatepark before everyone else arrived. but words have barely served you up to this point, and your throat is so dry you think your voice would fail you anyway. so instead of trying to express your feelings with words, you use your grip on sohee’s arm to bring him closer to you. 

sohee let his legs straighten until they were flat against your rug. instantly you put your hand on his thigh, using your grip on him to turn your body to kiss him better. sohee responded by moving a hand to your waist, sticking his ring finger in the belt loop of your pants while his other fingers rested on the bare skin of your torso. even from this little contact you already felt overwhelmed. 

when you pulled away from sohee he kept one of his hands on your face. you took him in like this, how his lips were still parted and his eyes were still closed before he realized you weren’t going back in to kiss him. his eyelashes fluttered when he blinked a few times, trying to recover.

“i really like spending time with you too.” you said quickly.

when sohee pulled you in again, he let his lips press a little harder into yours. you felt his hand on your waist move to your leg, and you let sohee move your legs until they were on top of his. he followed your movements, his hand splaying across your jean clad thigh before pulling you in closer by your legs.

when you were close enough, sohee moved his hand from your leg to the small of your back. he pressed gently, until your back arched and you pressed even more into him. you let your tongue go into his mouth first, and he tilted his head and parted his lips a little wider to give you access. 

the sound of kissing and your jeans rubbing against eachother filled the room. you had one of your hands behind you, gripping your shag rug from the tension and for stability. sohee couldn’t take his hands off of you, pulling and kneading your skin while he pressed his tongue against yours. the kisses were beginning to get sloppy, when you pulled away again there was a thin string of spit stretched between the two of you.

sohee licked his lips and broke the string. he looked up from your lips, scanning over your whole face. you did the same, taking in sohee against the backdrop of your room and his hair that was already sticking up in odd places. 

you were lost in the smell of sweat that clung to his baggy clothes and the wind burn that gave him a natural blush while his eyes wandered down, staying stuck on a part of your shag rug.

“i wanna film you.” sohee said, quietly.

you were still coming down from the feeling of sohee against you as you listened to his words. you followed his line of sight to the camcorder that was turned on its side. it was enticing, looking at the camera that was already on and in arms reach. the only thing you would’ve had to do was hold it in your hands and press the record button.

both you and sohee reached for the camera at the same time, and both of you hesitated at the same time too. you went back to looking at sohee, feeling his warm body press against yours. his hand had moved back to your legs, pulling them in close to his stomach. he looked at the camera once more and decided against it, shaking his head as his hands started creeping back up your leg.

you forgot about your camera as sohee pulled his legs from under you. he stood on his knees now, and it was you looking up at him as he came closer to you. you moved to give him space, and he moved his hand to your shoulder to slowly push you down. 

with your back resting on the shag rug there was another pause as sohee looked down at you. his shirt was loose on his body, hanging down and revealing his toned stomach you sneaked so many peaks at over the summer. when he saw you looking he guided your hands to the bottom of his shirt. when you fisted the fabric and started pulling up sohee did the rest, a single hand reaching for the back to pull it over his head. he balled up his shirt and put it underneath your head for comfort, and you mumbled a quiet thanks.

“i wanna touch you so bad.” sohee said.

you felt your own nerves creeping up on you as you felt sohee ghost his hand over your clothed stomach. he hovered above your body, but you swore you could feel the warmth coming from his hand in waves. you nodded your head, and you guided sohee’s hand underneath your shirt.

you could feel his gentle hand press into your stomach instantly. he kneaded the soft skin, holding onto whatever he could touch. you were already squirming underneath him, tiny sighs escaping your lips as you tried to comprehend what was happening.

“can i take your clothes off?” he asked.

the calm was absent from sohee’s voice now, reeling off the feeling of your skin in his hand. when you lifted your hips he took his hands off of you, reaching to the waistband of your tight jeans to pull them down your body. your fingers were barely fast enough to take off the button before sohee started pulling, and when they were loose enough you started pushing them down your legs. one of sohee’s hands lifted the end of your shirt, revealing the bottom of your bra. when sohee saw that the color matched the trim of your underwear he nearly started drooling. he bent his head to place a sloppy kiss on the apex of your thigh, earning a surprised mewl. when he blew cold air on his spit he saw goosebumps raise across your skin. 

from down here, sohee could smell you so clearly. although dried sweat clung to your body and left a salty taste on sohee’s tongue he felt himself needing more. you smelled like the soil and the air and the sun rolled into one, laid out for him like you were something to eat. sohee was getting high off of you, and the way you squirmed underneath gave him tunnel vision. he focused on what was hiding underneath the soft pair of panties that were clad to your body.

“can i eat you out?” he asked bluntly.

you felt all the blood drain from your face when sohee’s words hung in the air. your eyes that focused on the ceiling fan broke away from the spinning blades to see if sohee was as red as you felt. but he was unashamed, staring at you almost like he was pleading. you couldn’t say no to him, nothing in you wanted to say no. but simultaneously saying yes to something so lewd made you shake your head.

“you don’t have—.” you said timidly.

“i want to.” sohee’s hand went to the thin waistband of your panties, breaking past the elastic. you saw sohee’s fingers curve underneath the fabric, and his cold fingernails pressed into your pelvis. “really.” he assured.

you stared at him for a second longer, trying to hold out just incase he changed his mind. when sohee remained unfaltering, you felt enough of an ego boost to nod your head.

“okay.” you whispered.

sohee was slow pulling your panties down. he moved from between your legs to the side, resting on his haunches as he pulled them down your legs. his gaze flickered from your legs to your face, and then your exposed stomach. sohee alternated between all of it while he went back to slot himself between your legs. you spread slightly for him, watching him look at your core. with the back of your hand pressed to your forehead you felt hotter than ever. when sohee placed a kiss on your inner thigh you twitched.

sohee motioned for your hand the gripped the shag rug, instead guiding it to his brown hair. he encouraged you to tighten your grip, and when you did he nodded approvingly.

“so i know when i’m doing a good job.” he said quickly.

before you could say anything else, sohee placed a chaste kiss right on your spread cunt. you already felt yourself tugging at his hair, lips parted as you started inching your body towards his mouth. sohee smiled into the next chaste kiss, then he let his lips slightly part. before you knew it he was placing open mouthed sloppy kisses on your heat, and you were grinding your hips onto his mouth.

when sohee pushed his finger into your clenching hole, your back arched off the rug. sohee pressed his hand into your lower stomach to keep you still, and you began lifting your head to see him clearly. he was focused on your cunt, kissing and licking the most sensitive parts of you. when he felt your eyes he locked in on you, moving his hasty lips to suck on your clit. 

you thought about immortalizing the image of sohee’s plush lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves and the sound of him moaning into your folds for eternity. his eyes looking up at you for approval could be kept on your hard drive forever, reserved for your eyes only. you moved your body to the side to reach for the camcorder and sohee unknowingly pressed his hand deeper into your stomach to keep you in place. you curled around his hand as he applied pressure to the tension building deep in your stomach. he kept his eyes focused on your clit for a second longer, replacing his mouth with his free hand as he caught his breath. 

“sohee.” you got his attention back, and his eyes followed your hand that was reaching for the camcorder. “can i record you, sohee?” you asked timidly.

he looked up to you again, this time making eye contact with the camcorder you now held your shaking hand. he felt you clench around his fingers as your eyes stayed focus on the folded playback screen. sohee could see the dim glow of the video on your face as you brought the camera closer, trying to fit as much as you could in the frame.

“of course.” sohee said, placing a kiss to your inner thigh.

you let out a shaky breath and sohee saw the red light flicker on to point at him. sohee put his hand on your ankle, guiding one of your legs until your thigh was over his shoulder. you moved behind the camera, your quiet gasps caught on film as sohee pulled your heat closer to his lips. his eyes found the lens, his smile caught on the viewfinder. you watched the tiny screen with bated breath, only looking up when sohee did it first. he held your eye contact above the camera, a smile on his face as he leaned onto his side. with his free hand he plunged two fingers into your heat without hesitation. his lips parted as he watched you tilt your head back. tiny whimpers slipped past your lips as sohee continued pumping his fingers in and out of you, twisting his wrist to give you more stimulation. he looked down at the camera that was already pointing away from the action due to you being distracted. sohee stopped pumping his fingers, his eyes were focused on your heaving chest as you tried to regain your composure. when you lifted your head from the rug sohee gave you his most innocent smile, nodding towards the camera resting on your stomach.

“just keep filming me, yeah?” sohee said encouragingly.

“okay.” you shaky hand pointed the camera back to his face. “i got you.” you said out of breath.

sohee continued where he left off, adding three fingers and flicking his tongue on your clit. he looked up to the shaking camera occasionally, but his eyes were mainly focused on your back arching off the rug and you biting your lip to stifle your sounds. he took it as a challenge, trying everything he could to hear you make noise for him. he imagined hearing your whimpers and moans behind the camera when he would watch the playback. the mental image pushed sohee to pump his fingers in and out of you faster, until you brought your other leg to rest on his shoulder.

“sohee.” you whimpered behind the camera. “i’m so close.”

he nodded against your clit, pulling away to let a glob of his spit and your slick slide down your folds. sohee heard you moan at that sensation, loud and desperate as it acted as a lubricant for his pumping fingers. sohee could see your tight grip on the camcorder as your unfiltered sounds filled the room.

“let me hear you.” sohee said quickly before going back to your clit.

you registered sohee’s request late as the feeling washed over you. you were barely in your right mind to hold the camera straight as your legs closed in around sohee’s head. you were pathetic in every sense of the word. the loud moans that bounced off the walls of your room, the way you rode sohee’s tongue, the way you shook your head from the overstimulation. you were a mess and sohee watched it all, and soon you would be able to as well.

when you were done, your still recording camcorder rested on your chest as you desperately tried catching your breath. you saw sohee raise from between your legs, wiping his face with the back of his hand before crawling up your body. he brought you in for another kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth instantly. you moaned at the taste of yourself and sohee broke away quickly to let you try and catch your breath.

“i need you. so bad.” you murmured.

you held up the camcorder, shaking as you watched sohee stand up to take off his pants and underwear. he looked around your room, his erect dick bobbing mid-air. you looked past your camera to stare at his body.

“do you have condoms?” sohee asked.

you nodded, making the camera move as a result. sohee followed your pointed finger offscreen to the top drawer of your dresser.

“it’s at the—“

sohee found it quickly, holding the foil packet like it was a piece of treasure. he fumbled with the perforated tear as he went back to kneeling beside you, nearly ripping the package in half. before he could lay down you pointed to your bed. 

“can you grab me a pillow for my back?” you asked.

sohee nodded, immediately grabbing the exact pillow you had in mind. 

he dropped to his knees in front of you, crawling with the pillow and condom in his hand. when he was close enough he helped you lift your hips and slid the pillow underneath, looking to you for approval. when you nodded and pointed the camera to his torso. you, sohee, and the camera all watched him grab his hard dick in his hand as he slid the condom on. he rested on his legs and pinched the end of the latex, making sure it was on securely.

when he was done sohee motioned for the camera, and you lifted your weak hand from your stomach to give him the camcorder. he pulled your hand from the strap gently and put his hand in the same place to hold it securely.

for a moment sohee turned the camera around to check for the red dot and you could see him in the viewfinder. something about him looked so perfect to you, almost like he was made to be shot on shitty technology from the 90’s. you saw his large eyes blink for a moment before he turned the camera back to face you, and you could hear the sounds of him messing with the zoom as he tried to find his own angle. he constantly looked up from the tiny screen on the camcorder to look at you, trying to make sure he was getting the perfect framing.

“you look so pretty on camera baby.” sohee said.

his inexperience being behind the camera was obvious as he continued messing with the settings, and your inexperience with being in front of the camera was obvious too. you instinctually let your knees close in on eachother, suddenly nervous to show what you had exposed moments ago.

sohee instantly notices, lowering the camera from his face to slot himself between your legs. he gently separates them with a comforting hand, rubbing your knee tenderly. 

“so pretty.” sohee holds the camera back up, tracing the line of your legs up to your face that felt like it was on fire. “just for us right?” he asked.

“just for us.” you said, nodding your head.

sohee pointed the camera down at your cunt, his free hand running down your inner thigh then back to your knee. you were wiggling your hips closer to him in anticipation, eyes locked on his twitching dick. sohee pointed the camera to you and you let him catch your hungry gaze. he smirked and moved his hand to his dick, letting the camera film him slapping your puffy folds. you jolted from the sensation and tiny gasps slipped past your lips. you could see his smile behind the camera as he kept going.

sohee shuffled forward on his knees until his hips were close to yours. when he lined himself up at your entrance he looked down at you. sohee reached his hand that wasn’t holding the camera out to you, and you grabbed it without hesitation. when he pushed into you, both of your hands were squeezing at the others desperately as the sensation overtook you both. sohee could barely focus on holding the camera as he slid inside of you, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt yourself clamp around him repeatedly.

“holy fuck.” sohee pulled out and watched himself in the playback when he pushed himself back in. “you feel so good.” he groaned.

sohee’s gaze flickered between the camera and your body as he began working his hips. he was slow and deliberate with each thrust, making sure you felt all of him. you started moaning pitifully, feeling that familiar warmth slowly spread across your body. you started swiveling your hips, trying to get more stimulation.

“want me to touch you?” sohee asked behind the camera.

you shook your head no, pressing your body against the ground. when you looked up you saw that sohee had lowered the camera slightly so you could see his whole face.

“i wanna keep holding your hand.” you whimpered.

sohee nodded his head knowingly, seeing that you two were now in a predicament. he wanted to see you finish, but at the same time he only had two hands. he didn’t want to stop filming and he didn’t want to let go of your soft hand that was holding his so tight. his eyes drifted to your free hand that still gripped your shag rug and as if a lightbulb went off above his head, he knew what to do.

“can you—” his train of thought was cut off when you clamped around him again. “touch yourself for me?” he asked.

instantly you nodded, you hand going to your clit to rub gentle circles. sohee saw your body react quickly as you arched from the ground and bit your lip a little harder. sohee was so immersed in his view that he forgot about the camera catching all of it on tape. sohee memorized the way you touched yourself to do it to you later. he watched the muscles in your stomach jump and your body occasionally twitch. his lips were parting solely from seeing you get closer and closer. when your grip on his hand tightened sohee hissed, driving his hips deeper to try and give you what you needed. he saw your half lidded eyes open a little wider as your fingers worked faster.

“sohee.” you pulled him closer by his hand, squeezing so tight that sohee’s grip loosened. “i’m cumming” you whimpered.

“go ahead.” sohee grunted.

your fingers that worked your clit started faltering and doing incomplete circles as the rest of your body became tense. sohee stared at you in awe, suddenly remembering that he would have video proof of something so beautiful forever. he took this time to watch you with his own two eyes and to feel you everywhere. when he swiped his tongue across his lip he still tasted you, as sweet as the view before him. he instinctually babbled praises to you, things he had kept to himself all summer or hid under the blanket statement “you’re really good at filming”. 

when your body fully relaxed, and your walls started feeling like a heartbeat around his dick, sohee felt himself becoming desperate. he started picking up the pace but failing to hit the spot he needed due to his preoccupied hands. you must’ve noticed, because you weakly lifted your head to look down.

“go faster sohee.” you pushed your hips to meet his uneven thrusts for emphasis. “please.” you begged.

sohee nodded his head and then moved his hand holding the camera to separate your knees further. you could see him trying to figure out the angle, if it would be possible to give you what you needed while also holding the camera. you felt sohee look at you as he took his hand from the strap that held your camera securely in his hand.

“here.” he motioned for you to grab the camcorder. “hold the camera for me baby.” he said.

sohee put the camera back in your hand, and you propped yourself on your elbows to try and see it all. his speed didn’t falter, and his quiet moans rung throughout your room as he fucked you through his orgasm. you felt yourself feeling the aftershocks of your own peak, becoming so sensitive that your body shook each time you clamped around sohee’s dick. he came forward, head pressed into your collarbone as he kissed your clammy skin. his free hand went to the underside of your thigh and gripped you harshly, and his controlled moans turned into whimpers as he continued rutting inside of you. your view from the camera was obstructed by sohee’s body, but you still brought your lips to sohee’s ear and let your breath fan the shell.

“we look so good together.” you whispered.

after you said that, sohee stilled inside of you. his moan vibrated against your skin and his grip on your hand became vice-like. you flicked your hips upwards a few times until sohee pressed his teeth into your skin.

you let your camcorder rest on your shag rug beside your two bodies as you brought your hand to press into the back of sohee’s head, making him kiss your skin with a new vigor. you two were equally ruined, out of breath as you both tried to keep the stimulation going. 

sohee’s lips travelled from your collarbone to your neck, then your jaw and ending at your cheek. you brought him back down to the ground with you, chests so close they touched each time you breathed. he settled on top of you, kissing your lips one final time before pulling out. he sighed and you turned to see sohee’s shaking hand stop the recording. he rolled next to you on the ground, letting the camcorder rest on his chest.

the two of you stared at your ceiling fan, laying side by side. you reached your hand out to sohee and he grabbed it silently. he squeezed your hand as he took a deep breath in.

“you’re joining the crew now, right?” sohee asked, still looking at the fan.

“if that’s okay with you.” you said.

“more than okay with me.” sohee says instantly.

you hum, feeling like a thank you doesn’t quite fit the situation. your mind is on other things as you see the camera resting on sohee’s chest in your peripheral vision. 

“hey sohee?”

you turn to face him, and sohee turns his head from your ceiling to make eye contact with you.

“do you wanna watch it?”

[hunnidmilly]

over it. - sefa f. +millytober+

am i really that much…to handle?

*y’all met him as solo sikoa, i met him as fine ass sefa w that long ass hurr😩 ignore the time stamps on the messages, i noticed an error and had to redo one 🙂‍↕️*

warnings: cheating (semi; not established), ex’s to lovers, eating out, oral sex (femme receiving), use of n word, mentions of sex, mentions of breeding, aggressiveness, choking.

parings; sefa fatu (solo sikoa) x black!reader.

you rubbed a hand over your face, throwing your phone on the couch. your nerves began to rise, at the thought of sefa wanting to pop up again. the last time you two saw each other…it wasn’t pretty. to simply put, you wanted more from him and sefa was just going on the road to start his wrestling career. the night ended in him calling you ungrateful, and you calling all types of ain’t shit ass niggas left and right.

you were ready to take that next step with him; you stood there and poured your heart out about wanting to be exclusive, how much you loved and cared for him, being with him made your heart swell…and he just threw up all over it with his bullshit.

he told you, how the fsw brand wanted to finally sign him on; he couldn’t make time for a serious relationship right now, the long distance, the different time zones, he wanted to completely focus on getting everything in place to soon join his family at the top in wwe.

to many, they considered you selfish. but who gives a fuck what they think? your man told you he couldn’t be with you, couldn’t even fuckin’ try…because he got a job. okay.

you were ungrateful ass fuck and a clingy selfish brat, and took that title proudly. it didn’t matter. when you walked out the door of his condo a year and a half ago that was it. he flooded your phone with messages and calls begging you to hear him out, and to apologize.

you simply ignored him.

you did eventually caved after a few weeks. he promised no arguing, keeping his hands to himself, and full immunity to voice how you felt…0 truths and all lies. the night ended with you bent over his couches arm rest as he pounded into you from behind, engraving his aura into your pussy. he almost didn’t even leave with the way you kept creaming all over him.

while you both agreed to break up, he wasn’t leaving without a goodbye gift. although he knew you were on birth control, he made sure to pump all of his cum deep into you; even falling asleep with his dick plugged into your pussy to make sure it would reach your womb.

sefa wasnt slick; he wanted you to wait for him to reach a comfortable pace, so the two of you could be together again. you couldn’t bare it. waiting for a man who invalidated your feelings when you wanted to finally take that next step? all because he couldn’t handle it? you ignored the fuck out any communication he attempted. as weeks went by the phone calls, messages, emails, and even letters slowly faded, until he completely stopped. he finally got the memo. you moved on with life.

after going out for drinks one night a few months ago, you met rodney. he never quite compared to sefa, but he was okay. he was great at conversation and took you out on dates, but that was all. for two months, you’ve been giving him the run around

he wasn’t getting any pussy, with how he sweated you. he wanted to be under you all day, over your house, on the phone, kissing all on you, questioning you about where you are, who you been with, how you know em’. all he got was to be able to play around with your tits and your pussy a little with his hands. whenever he’d attempt to do more, you’d push him away.

you liked rodney, but you couldn’t stop wanting your man back. nothing compared.

a swift knock on your door sounded as you picked a playlist. summer walker’s over it album was going to be the mood tonight. you looked in the mirror by the door as you reapplied a thick coat of lipgloss, before opening it.

your heart thumped out your chest at seeing sefa. here he was after a year, his hair tied into a low ponytail, dark grey sweatpants and a matching sweater, with jordan’s on his feet.

“you always braiding muthafuckas’ hair in booty shorts?” his eyes raking up and down your body slowly

“this is my house. i’ll wear whatever i want. cool with you?”

“didn’t i tell yo ass chill the fuck—“

“i don’t have time for your bullshit. i’ll braid you hair and then you’re leaving. that’s it. c’mon.” you left him at the door with an eye roll to walk towards the couch

sefa’s eyes stayed planted on your ass, watching it jiggle as you walked away from him. he had to bite his lip and mentally count down to keep himself from getting hard. the way he felt? he wanted to bend your ass right over the couch arm rest and see if your pussy was still always ready for him.

your smart ass mouth was one thing, but he finally got what he wanted. here he was right back in your space again, and this time he he wasn’t leaving without making sure you weren’t going anywhere.

“sefa, i don’t have all day. hurry up, i got things to—.” you spoke again opening the jar of grease and spreading your legs, before the sound of your phone ringing caught his eyes

“aye man, who the fuck is rodney? deadass?” his teeth grit snatching your phone about to press answer

“stop! nigga, are you crazy!” you yelled out snatching your phone back from him, “ya know what? get the fuck out. i’m not playin these games with you. it’s been a year. you thought i was gone wait around? life moves on. just like you did.”

“that’s yo fuckin’ problem right there. yo stupid ass don’t listen. i never moved on. i said what had to happen for me—“

“it’s always you. just you, you, you. never us, or even me!”

“oh, so you and rodney? that’s all you, baby?”

“you’re absolutely insane…” you shook your head amazed at him “you care more about if another nigga has been fucking me, than anything else. you’re such a bitch for that shit. get ou—“

you words were cut off at sefa bringing his hand to wrap around your throat, putting just the right amount of pressaure that made you submit to him. immediately you quieted down, tucked your tail between your legs and looked away, knowing eye contact would be the one thing to send you over the edge.

you could your pussy began to drip through your panties, the ache starting to form at the aggressiveness he displayed. you tried to subtle squeeze your legs shut to create small friction there.

“i said watch yo fuckin’ smart ass mouth. you been turnt all day wit my ass. i’m sick of that shit. you been giving other mutherfuckers my pussy?” he growled out into your ear bringing your body flush to his “now yo ass quiet as a fuckin’ mouse? answer me.”

you kept your mouth shut. part of you liked this side of him, you wanted him to be rough with you; show you how much he missed you. that he still cared.

“ight…i see i gotta find out myself. get them shorts off. panties too.” he rushed out as he pushed you towards the couch, “bend over.”

you pushed your thumbs into the band of your shorts and panties pushing them towards your ankles before stepping out of them. your lower body moved over the arm rest, perching your pussy on full display for him.

so roped up in your thoughts, you didn’t even hear ur phone buzz again. this time, sefa reaching over to answer rodney’s phone call.

“yea…look at that pussy. so fuckin’ wet fa me. gotta inspect her first. see who else she had.” he panted before easing two fat fingers inside you

“ah!” you softly moaned as his fingers curled to rub that spongy spot inside you

sefa’s eyebrow raised; he didn’t always remember a lot, but he knew how pussy felt. his pussy felt. it was still just as tight and wet as when he was last in it, “damn bae. kept my pussy nice and tight, fa’ me? yea?”

you lost the power to string a sentence together, only focusing on fucking yourself on his fingers and releasing loud moans, “you been takin’ care of this pussy? givin’ her the attention she need since daddy’s been gone? tell me whose pussy this is.”

“i-it’s your pussy, sefa. oh my god!” you cried out, unable to hide how excited you were he was finally back—the wetness easing down your legs a testimony to that.

“gimme your hands, mama.” you quickly obeyed him moving your arms behind you, him positioning your hands to spread your ass cheeks to allow him to spread you open, “pretty ass pussy, my girl so fuckin’ messy, gotta clean her up.”

you were so fucking sweet and ready to be fucked with his tongue. he lowered to be eye level with your pussy and reached forward to suck your clit into his hot and wet mouth. he hummed at the taste of you on his tongue and sent vibrations through out your body.

your cries of ecstasy sounding like a lullaby in the room. he pressed his face further into you, his beard occasionally scratching against your sensitive clit. you widened your legs to give him better access to run his beard on you. he gripped your thighs tightly as he took your pussy whole into his mouth—flicking his tongue in and out of your entrance.

the room echoed with the sounds of his obscene slurping and sucking—drowning out the noise of summer walkers voice.

“aw fuck! sefa! don’t stop…pleasee, don’t stop.” you shrieked, your nails creating crescent moon shapes on your ass cheek to relieve some of the pressure. your thighs quivering as you grew closer to flooding his tongue with your cream

him harshly sucking your throbbing clit back into his mouth, turned that into a reality. your cum gushing out your pussy onto his tongue as your entire body convulsed. you couldn’t stop shaking, sefa’s tongue still licking and sucking making your eyes roll to the back of your head. your pussy now getting sensitive and twitching around his tongue. your mouth opened on a strangled cry, erupting in a shuttering orgasm for the 2nd time on his tongue.

you were paralyzed and your mind was blank. your tears and spit making a dark spot on the couch cushion. all you could wanted to do was lay there and take the assault of his tongue, even if you couldn’t take it anymore. he gave your clit one last suck and placed soft kisses around your entrance, before standing back to his full height.

“tell rodney, you ain’t finna be seein’ him no mo, baby.” his voice deepened and filled with urgency, ready to get back to reminding you who he was.

undoubtedly, you belonged to sefa. you always di—wait,

rodney?

❦: @caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine

@angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23

@empressdede @trentybenty @shes2real @blacst4r @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @brwnlikefoxy @romansthrone @bebesobrielo @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @jaza23

[cow-on-a-skateboard]

In the episode about McKay's "second childhood", after John and Rodney sat on the pier with beer and had a heart-to-heart talk, I want to believe that then they returned and John offered to spend the night with him so as not to run around the cabins. After all, he suggested it at the very beginning, when his terrified friend came running to him.

(I tried to depict a relaxed light from those panels that are located in each room, but it turned out to be too bright)

It seems to me that the moment I depicted is a bit mawkish, but due to the situation, this is the best that John could offer him. McKay is scared, confused, and very outraged that his brain is degrading, and he's still aware of it. He curled up and pressed his arms to his body, falling asleep more or less normally, feeling calm and protected. But John didn't even close his eyes all this time, replaying Rodney's last words in his head and sometimes glancing at him with concern.

It seems that his arm has already gone numb, and unpleasant tingling has begun. Sheppard decided to try to change his position a little, but it would be a real success to free his hand. John inhaled and held his breath, carefully starting to remove his hand from under McKay. Because of John's movement, Rodney shifted his head and put it closer to his friend's chest, pressed his hands tighter to his body and shifted slightly, finally languidly and deeply sighing, continuing to sleep. John exhaled in frustration and abruptly relaxed, sprawling on the bed, realizing that he was trapped. At least he was glad that there was less pressure on his arm now, and he gently stretched it, getting rid of the tingling.

It was a little unusual to feel Rodney's breath so close. It's too dark, too quiet, too drunk to ignore his calm monotonous breathing. John finally gave up trying to get out, which caused a quiet chuckle to escape from him. Either from hopelessness, or from the way McKay sighed softly again.

But what will happen in the morning? What if McKay wakes up later and finds no one around, gets confused about where he is, or tries to figure out what kind of place this is by shouting someone's name? Or vice versa, will he wake up earlier, and how about shaking John (or screaming) to wake him up and find out why he's in the same bed with him?

I like to imagine the chemistry between the characters, which can be off-screen. What could be the consequences or what consequences would actually happen.

[tinystepsforward]

automattic vs wp engine mastterpost

adrienne's GitHub recap is probably the best place to see a comprehensive timeline of what's going down. it's been kept up to date. my (very out of date) previous writeup is here.

what's happened/other links

Matt has not logged off, just switched platforms, so there's lots on X/Twitter, Reddit, and Hacker News. it's really not worth wading through.

WP Engine actually filed suit.

the complaint includes some truly remarkable screenshots of Matt trying to blackmail the CEO of WP Engine.

which... personally i would not happily work for someone who just blackmailed me while not even my boss, but that's just me. he hasn't denied this at all, in fact confirming on Hacker News:

I haven't doxxed any private texts from other parties like they have. [source]

and, notably,

I even invited her to my 40th birthday on Jan 11, another text message she decided not to share. [source]

this gives me the creeps. in the context of the rest of the way he's talking to her, and the ways in which he's interacted with women in general, it's. not great.

also he slid into an ex-employee (also a woman)'s DMs asking why she was being mean to him bc he'd never been nothing but nice to her, while also making legal threats. so y'know, pattern of behaviour.

a good writeup of the social side of things

if you don't care so much about the open-source stuff, Steph Lundberg's writeup is, like her previous one on Matt's Tumblr meltdown, pretty solid and people-focused.

Mullenweg has already demonstrated egregious lapses in judgment and abuses of power, it’s just that up until now he’s wielded his power against vulnerable populations without access to high-powered lawyers and their own massive platforms.

a more technical writeup

this one is melodramatic in the same ways Matt was (uses war terminology), which i don't agree with, and which led to some... internal arguments at Automattic. that part's not my story to tell, but a little more on that later. it's a solid writeup of the actual WordPress side of things. there's some seriously dodgy trademark behaviour going on here.

of note: this blogger locked comments on his post:

and then Matt, uh, found a way around that:

wild!

10% of Automattic leaves

that's a link to Matt's blog post. here's an Internet Archive link.

in short, staff were offered a severance deal of the higher of $30k or six months' salary. while that's very generous, it's still very risky in today's tech market, especially (for the same reasons i mentioned when Matt was melting down on here) for people outside the US, people who need the health insurance, or people with young kids. despite that, 10% decided with very little notice (they had two days to decide) to leave.

However now, I feel much lighter. I’m grateful and thankful for all the people who took the offer, and even more excited to work with those who turned down $126M to stay. As the kids say, LFG!

i'm thrilled to see some of my ex-colleagues make it out. i'm keeping the rest who have stayed on in my thoughts. i don't know anyone who's wholesale shilling for Matt.

Matt's been pressuring staff to post in support of him, @-ing the entire company to vote on Twitter polls in his favor, and so on. many of the people who stayed have written blog posts about it, all starting with "I stayed". people on social media have pointed out the very clear pattern of Automatticians jumping into discourse to defend Matt, and it doesn't look good.

i don't have a lot to say about those posts, except to highlight Jeffrey Zeldman, whose "I stayed" post is perhaps one of the more honest ones. (his Rodney King reference was in poor taste, and he... i don't like his role at automattic, tbc) but like. he's nearly 70. he helped shape the modern internet and develop its accessibility standards. he has often put his neck on the line for disabled staff who don't have as much clout as he does. given the financial troubles he talks about and the state of this market and how old he is, i personally have read between the lines of what he's saying in a particular way.

fuck, man. i'm sad. i'm sad for all my friends who are creaking under the strain and watching others leave but who can't do that. i'm sad that many of them are left in teams which are half-empty or divisions where significant senior leadership are just gone, with no time to document what they had in progress.

i'm sad for Josepha Haden Chomphosy, the former executive director of the WordPress Foundation, who was dealing with a personal emergency and ended up having to miss WordCamp US (where Matt started publicly starting shit with WPE). she came back from that to a gigantic fire in the community she's invested a decade of careful, Matt-negotiating, stewardship to, and decided to take the severance offer. she deserved better.

other things Matt's been up to

mostly linking to comments or posts which compile things here, bc it's too scattered otherwise.

blocking people from the official WordPress X account if they disapprove of his actions.

publicly talking about a vulnerability in ACF, a plugin WPE maintains, which could put thousands of sites at risk. this is not normal, and he met with so much horror even from current staff that he deleted his post.

saying he comes across badly because he's "a little ASD", which is driving me personally up the fucking wall. he's never once said it before and he really is turning into Temu Elon.

generally bragging that he still has more planned. jesus fucking christ

continually saying that WPE's suit is against WordPress.org and the community, which is not true. on which note, his pinned tweet is certainly something:

his choice of lawyer is uh. the kind of guy to defend nestle against literal child slaves.

as always, while i think WordPress crumbling will disproportionately affect websites in poorer parts of the world, there are certainly tyrants who are causing much more immediate and potent suffering. if you've read this far, please do send anything you have spare to gazafunds.com.

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter One - Tyler Owens x Reader

Chapter One - Nice Try, Owens

It was the end of the second tornado-chasing season for (Y/n) and the Storm Riders. A couple of years ago a local bar in Oklahoma named the Dust Devil Dive hosted a yearly celebration party for all the storm chasers to relax and share stories from the year's chases. 

Granted, most times it was just your team, a few from Storm Par, another smaller team named Atmosphere Aces, and the Tornado Wranglers. Thankfully when the owners, Kathy and Randy, threw this party they closed the place down to outsiders, which included all of the Tornado Wrangler fans. You and your team got tired of having their fans around constantly just because the leader, if you could call him that, was good-looking and charismatic enough to make any girl who looked at him melt. That man is Tyler Owens. 

While, yes, he is good-looking and a smooth talker, he was also reckless and annoying. There were numerous times you had watched him and Boone drive into the middle of a storm in that old red truck of his and put it in park to then shoot fireworks up into the tornado. You’d have to admit that his bravery and respect for the storm were admirable; driving into the middle of a tornado was not as admirable. 

You smirked to yourself while sitting at the bar while sipping your whiskey and diet coke thinking of all the crazy stunts the Tornado Wranglers have pulled. You turned your barstool slightly to watch the teams intermingle on the dance floor, forgetting about all the turbulence everyone had gone through the last few weeks. 

As Rodney Atkins played throughout the bar, you turned back to the bar and finished your drink hearing everyone sing along at the top of their lungs. 

“If you’re going through hell, keep on going, don’t slow down!” They all sang, “If you’re scared, don’t show it, you might get out ‘fore the devil even knows you’re there!” 

In the corner of your eye, you could see Tyler playing pool with Dexter while trying to teach Ben, a journalist from a city near London. You smirked while watching Ben try to use the cue to hit the white ball on the table which was basically lined up with the seven ball and one of the corner pockets. 

While he took his shot and missed horribly by barely hitting the white ball and almost falling onto the table, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. That caused Tyler to look up from under his cowboy hat and make eye contact with you. 

For a man you didn’t necessarily enjoy talking with, he sure did something to your brain chemistry. You lifted your new drink and slightly tipped it toward him in a cheers manner. He did the same with his beer bottle, the two of you both took a drink and you turned back to the bar where the bartender was asking if you needed anything else. 

“I’m good, thanks,” you said, placing your glass back on its chintzy bar coaster. You took your phone out of your pocket and scrolled Facebook for a minute or two to catch up on your family's lives that you had been missing for the last few years while out storm chasing. 

“It’s hard for you, too, huh sweetheart?” A voice you knew instantly asked from beside you. 

You glanced over and saw Tyler sitting on the stool while putting his bottle on the bar to signal the bartender for another. 

“I wish I could go back more and- wait. Why am I telling you my sap story of not seeing my family for the last couple of years?” You laughed, putting your phone down and grabbing your drink. 

“Because I’m just another friendly face at the bar?” He said, looking over at you and smiling slightly. 

“I don’t know about friendly, but definitely another face,” you said, stirring your straw around. 

“Ouch, okay, (Y/n)’s in that type of mood tonight,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I’m in no mood, Tyler,” you stated, “Just stating a fact.” 

“I see how it is,” he chuckled, “And to think I was talking to quite a beautiful face.” 

This statement took you back slightly, you were used to Tyler picking on you and calling you other things like your last name and calling you Salado, which is the town in Texas you’re from that’s about 45 minutes away from Waco, Texas. Salado is a quaint village with what you can call an artistic flair. While your parents were cattle farmers, you did your chores and spent time with a few favorite cows; you also liked going to the heart of the small town and enjoying the artists painting and sculpting in the parks and the numerous bands playing around the town in the little saloons. That’s where you fell in love with music and tried to pursue it as a second job aside from helping out on the farm as that was a full-time job. 

When that fell through, you moved up to Oklahoma to try storm chasing as you had always been in love with storms when you were little. Instead of hiding under the covers or running to your parents, you were at the big picture window in the living room watching the lightning and trees blowing in the wind. 

You were jolted from your thoughts by Tyler nudging your elbow with his. 

“Hmm?” You asked. 

“Dance with me?” He asked, standing up and holding his hand out to you. In the mirror behind the bar, you could see the teams paired up in couples to do their best slow dancing. 

You laughed slightly, “Nice try, Owens.” 

“Please? We’re the only ones not dancing right now,” he said, taking your hand off your glass and pulling you to the dance floor to the tune of ‘Made For You’ by Jake Owen. 

He didn’t give you much of a chance to say no as he pulled you to his chest, his right hand going to your waist and his left finding your hand. You sighed to yourself and put your left on his bicep, which was more muscular feeling than it looked. You figured as long as you were here, you might as well enjoy the dance since the last time you slow danced was with your dad at a friend's wedding. 

You weren’t sure if he was just that intoxicated or if he was fully coherent, but he was rubbing small circles with his thumb on your hip while you both swayed to the music. While your body relaxed you took a deep breath in, smelling the mix of leather, dried rain, an almost musky smell, and a hint of sweat. All of it combined made your heart swoon for this crazy cowboy. 

“Hey (L/n)?” He whispered in your ear, holding his head close to yours. 

“Yeah, Owens?” You whispered back. 

“Think maybe sometime I can take you out?”

You looked up at his blueish green eyes that looked down at you with the most sincere look. 

“Why?” You asked, giggling slightly, “Why would Tyler Owens want to go out with someone like me?”

“Because the girl I’m holding in my arms is the best woman I’ve met in my years of livin’,” he stated, pressing the bridge of his nose to the top of your head. 

“Yeah right, Tyler,” you said, sighing, “Everyone knows you got a thing for Kate.” 

“But she is nothing compared to you,” he said, pulling you closer slightly, “Call me crazy, but I fell in love with you when we first met and I knew I’d have to try and get closer to you somehow. I just hate that it’s taken me this long to finally say somethin.” 

“I guess I don’t believe you?” You said softly, taking in the scent you’ve grown to want more of.

“I mean it, sweetheart,” he said, “It might be, well, I know it’s the beer talkin’, but everything I’m sayin’ is true. You’re one of the smartest and most beautiful girls I’ve seen. And that’s sayin’ a lot since I’ve seen my fair share of gals.” 

“I can’t tell if that last part is an insult or a compliment,” you whispered, Tyler kissing the top of your head softly. 

“Always a compliment when it comes to you, baby girl,” he said, pulling away and twirling you as the song ended and ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ by Luke Combs started. 

You looked back up at him, his eyes looking back at you with happiness sewn in them.

“I suppose one wouldn’t hurt, just no YouTube star Tyler, got it?” You said, walking back to your seat at the bar. You could feel his eyes on you as you walked away. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, following you to the bar. 

“You should probably get back to your game of pool before Ben hurts someone,” you giggle, Tyler looking over and seeing Ben almost hit Boone in the gut with the end of the cue. 

“Good call, I’ll be back once we win,” he said while grabbing his beer. 

“If you win,” you state, taking a drink of your now watered-down whiskey coke. 

“Don’t test me, sweetheart,” he mumbled against your head, kissing it before walking back to Dexter and Ben. 

You shook your head and laughed softly. If the tornadoes you chased didn’t do anything to you, this cowboy definitely would. 

Want more? Here's Chapter Two! Masterlist :)

[fuck-customers]

There’s this one customer, old white guy, who we all HATE. He claims to be a doctor. He tells us to wash our hands before touching his items to ring him up. He refuses to unload his cart if the belt is moving, which holds up the line. Today there was no one except one other customer around. We were dead.

He saw me sweeping the floor and said he needs me to go wash my hands. I was fucking over it because he’s always a jerk to everyone when he comes in so I straight up said no. Yeah yeah asshole move but idk I was pissed.

So then we got into an argument and I was like we literally touch money and other people’s items all day. We all stock the shelves and touch every item that YOURE touching.

He said he’d wait for another cashier. I said we have none. He said he wants a manager. I said I am one.

So he finally lets me ring him up and I go into my polite voice and script, asking if he needs bags, will it be cash or card, and he says “you’ll see what I do when I do it.” And I was just like okay :)

So then he says he’s gonna call corporate and I was like okay! Then when I handed him his receipt I said thank you so much for cooperating and have a nice day :)

Then the other lady in the store joked with me after like you should go wash your hands and he turns to her and he’s like oh you think this is funny??? And TORE INTO HIM LIKE YEAH THIS IS FUNNY. SOME DOCTOR YOU ARE YOU DONT EVEN MASK. SHE HANDLES MONEY ALL DAY IDIOT WHAT, SHES SUPPOSED TO WASH HER HANDS AFTER EVERY CUSTOMER? GO SOMEWHERE ELSE!

She said she’d leave me a good review hahahahaha fuck that guy

Posted by admin Rodney

[sunni-stuff]

Silent pining

Part 1

What does he do now?

Ghost can't seem to get you out of his mind. The events from that day replay like a record in hia head. Oh, what a head-strong woman you are, with such a soft touch too.

Lying in his bed, Ghost found the constant wailing snores from Soap doing nothing to quell his thoughts. He'd been thinking about you for days now. Normally, he was good at stifling feelings, stuffing them into a bag to be opened later, but oh... when you fixed up his arm, he felt a new sensation coursing through his veins.

The memory of your gentle hands on his skin haunted him like a phantom, keeping him awake at night.

Ghost sat up in his bed, the dim light from a nearby lamp casting shadows on the walls. He glanced over at Soap, who was blissfully asleep despite his own noisy snoring. With a sigh, Ghost swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, quietly padding to the window.

He stared out into the night, the moonlight reflecting off the base in waves. His mind wandered back to you, to that moment when your hands had carefully tended to his shoulder. He could almost feel the warmth of your touch, the tenderness that had taken him by surprise.

Unable to shake the thought of you, Ghost decided to take a walk to clear his mind. He grabbed his jacket and slipped out of the room, moving silently through the base. The cool night air hit him as he stepped outside, offering a brief respite from the turmoil in his mind.

He made his way to the training grounds, hoping that some physical exertion might help him regain control over his thoughts. But as he began his routine, his movements were distracted, his mind constantly drifting back to you. Every punch, every kick, felt like a futile attempt to expel the image of your face, the sound of your voice.

Finally, he stopped, breathing heavily and leaning against the punching bag. His eyes closed, he allowed himself to remember you fully, to acknowledge the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface.

The sound of laughter reaches his ears—your laugh.

Simon's eyes shoot open as he looks around for you until he sees it—the light on in your office, your silhouette hidden behind the blinds, leaning against your desk as you cheerfully laugh at something another figure in the room has said. His heart tightens.

Who?

Who is that?

A sharp pang of jealousy pierces through him, and before he knows it, Simon's feet are rushing forward. He sprints back inside, his pulse pounding in his ears. The empty halls blur around him as he races towards your office, his mind a whirlwind of emotions.

Reaching your office door, he hesitates for a split second, hand hovering above the handle. His breath is heavy, his thoughts a chaotic swirl. The need to see you overwhelms every other instinct. The sound of movement inside brings him back to his senses. He hangs back, deciding to hide around the corner and wait.

Soon, you step outside your office, your doctor's coat missing, allowing him to see the woman underneath. Your figure is eye-catching—a shame it has to be hidden, and an even bigger shame that the bloody moron inside your office stops Simon from admiring the view.

“Thanks for letting me come in and talk, Doc.”

Simon recognizes that voice, and it already has him grinding his teeth as he watches Sergeant Rodney Collins walk out. The man is a notorious man-whore, trying to fuck any woman who walks.

Don't you know that? Someone like you shouldn't be anywhere near trash like Collins.

Simon watches you smile, and his heart nearly tears in two.

Don't. Don't smile at him like that. Don't purse those pretty lips at Collins. He doesn't deserve it.

“Anytime, Collins. My door's always open, but next time, come at more reasonable hours. If any of your superiors saw you out here, they'd have your head,” you respond kindly.

How right you were.

After that night, Ghost ensures every single soldier is in bed by curfew. No late-night sneaking out and absolutely no bothering the doctor. It’s after-hours, meaning you're off the clock.

But that's not all he does.

Ghost changes his entire schedule just to hang around the medical ward, scaring off anyone lingering around. He makes it known that unless a soldier is critically injured, they should not be visiting you at all. He doesn't care that some lackey cadet needs a band-aid or another has a headache. "Go walk it off. You'll live."

The thing is, Simon is a fucking hypocrite.

Deep down, he knows it too. He can't stop thinking about you. Every chance he gets, he finds himself in your office with some excuse. A "random" check-up, a minor bruise, even a paper cut. Anything to feel your gentle hands on his skin again. He'd walk in with his usual stoic demeanor, but the moment you touched him to treat his so-called injuries, he'd feel that same surge of warmth. Your hands, your soothing voice—it was addictive.

His mates notice the change in his behavior—how he’s become more protective, more possessive over your time. Soap, knowing Simon all too well, raises an eyebrow when Ghost rearranges his patrols to coincide with your rounds.

"Seriously, man," Soap comments one day as they walk through the base, "you’re acting like you’ve got a crush on the doc."

Ghost scoffs, trying to play it cool, but the subtle twitch of his fingers give him away. "It’s just protocol, Soap. Someone’s gotta make sure she’s not being bothered."

Soap chuckles knowingly. "Uh-huh, sure. Just don’t forget to practice what you preach, Lieutenant. Hypocrisy doesn’t look good on anyone.”

Ghost’s jaw tightens, knowing Soap is right. He spends his days enforcing rules he himself can’t seem to follow. Every time he catches himself lingering, he reminds himself of his duty—but as soon as he sees that smile on your face, all his resolve crumbles like sand between his fingers.

Your office feels strangely quiet, devoid of the usual bustle of soldiers seeking medical attention. Sherry, your colleague, seems to have a growing list of patients, some of whom used to come to you. It's left you with an unusual amount of free time, enough to rearrange your office multiple times out of sheer boredom.

Every now and then, he catches a glimpse of you through the window of your office. You're always so focused, so dedicated. It's mesmerizing to watch you work, even from afar. Simon needs to get a grip and let Ghost do his job. He's a lieutenant, not some boy with a crush. But when he hears your laugh echo down the hallway, his heart skips a beat, and he can't help but wonder who's there with you, making you laugh like that.

When the door finally creaks open, it's him again.

Lieutenant Riley.

His presence is becoming a regular occurrence, and his excuses for visiting are increasingly flimsy—a minor papercut, a bruised knuckle that he insists needs a bandage. You've told him countless times that he doesn't need medical attention for such minor issues, but he always finds a reason to linger near the medical supplies just to exchange a few words with you.

Could he be the reason why your patient visits have dwindled?

During lunch, you sit beside Sherry, who exudes enthusiasm about her growing patient list. She chats animatedly about how the soldiers have been seeking her help more frequently lately.

“It's strange, though, isn't it?” you interject, stirring your soup thoughtfully. “Everyone in the ward seems to be busy except for me. Have you noticed anything?”

Sherry pauses, her brow furrowing slightly. “Come to think of it, when I walked by the training grounds today, I heard a recruit sayin' his arm was hurting him but Lieutenant Riley told him unless he was bleeding he couldn't come to you."

The next time Ghost entered your office, you decided to break from your usual routine. Instead of standing up to tend to him, you remained seated behind your desk, observing him with a raised eyebrow as he walked in with his usual "injury"—a minor scratch on his arm that barely broke the skin.

"Another 'injury,' Lieutenant?" you asked, your tone tinged with curiosity and a hint of amusement.

Ghost nodded silently, his eyes piercing through the holes of his balaclava, fixed on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. He sat down across from you, expecting your usual care without a word spoken.

You leaned forward, hands clasped together, a sweet smile spreading across your lips. "Lieutenant, unless you're bleeding, I can't tend to you. Go walk it off."

His eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by your change in demeanor. For a moment, he seemed dumbfounded, perhaps slightly embarrassed, but his determination remained palpable. With a quick nod and a muttered "Okay," he left your office.

Ghost's return catches you off guard. His presence, intense as ever, fills the room with an unspoken tension. He doesn't say a word as he sits back down, the scratch on his arm now a more serious wound, oozing blood.

You meet his piercing gaze with a mix of concern and curiosity. "Lieutenant, what happened?" Your tone softens, genuine worry creeping into your voice despite your attempt to maintain professionalism.

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding your eyes. "Accident," he mutters, his voice barely audible.

You sigh inwardly, realizing he's not here for idle conversation or a Band-Aid. There's something more beneath the surface, something he's not willing to disclose. Ghost's silence is palpable, his unyielding demeanor a stark contrast to the vulnerability seeping through his actions.

Without another word, you retrieve the necessary supplies and begin cleaning and dressing his wound. The atmosphere hangs heavy with unspoken questions, each touch and movement laden with unspoken tension.

As you work, Ghost remains unusually still, his gaze fixed on a distant point. The silence between you stretches, filled only by the soft rustling of medical supplies and the rhythmic hum of the air conditioning.

Finally, when the last bandage is secured, Ghost speaks, his voice low and gravelly. "Thank you."

You nod in acknowledgment, sensing there's more he wants to say but isn't ready to voice. The encounter leaves you unsettled, your thoughts swirling with unanswered questions about Ghost and his enigmatic presence in your life.

Why was he acting this way?

You reach out, delicately taking his gloved hands in yours. "If I take you out to dinner, will you stop scaring off the soldiers from my office?" the question was both a playful challenge and a genuine inquiry into his motives. It was a way to confront his behavior while also acknowledging the unspoken tension between you.

Ghost blinked, caught off guard by your directness. His gloved hands tensed slightly in yours, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty flickering in his eyes visible through the balaclava. He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his response carefully. Dinner.

Dinner with you.

He was a lucky man; his love was such a keen birdie.

Finally, he let out a faint, almost imperceptible chuckle, his voice low and gravelly. "You think dinner will make me stop?"

There was a hint of amusement in his tone, a rare glimpse of a lighter side beneath his usual seriousness. He looked down at your intertwined hands, his fingers subtly adjusting to hold yours more comfortably.

"I can't promise that," he admitted quietly, his gaze lifting to meet yours. "But I'd love to have dinner with you."

You shake your head in disbelief, chuckling at his words. What kind of man was he? Why did he scare everyone off and most importantly why did he want your attention so badly? "Fine. We'll have dinner, but can you at least stop injuring yourself to come see me?"

Ghost's expression softened slightly at your playful response, a hint of relief flickering in his eyes behind the balaclava. He nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Deal," he replied, his voice a touch lighter than usual. "No more injuries just to visit you." There was a warmth in his voice, a subtle reassurance that he understood your concern and was willing to make an effort to change his approach.

Ghost withdrew his hands from yours, the gloved fingers brushing against your palms briefly before he straightened up in his seat. His demeanor remained composed, yet there was a newfound ease in his presence, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

♡! It's been ten days, my beauties! I'm sorry for my constant disappearing act. The new Final Fantasy expansion recently came out, and I've been playing nonstop, but I have other fics dropping this week, along with request!!

"This weekend?" he asked, his tone now tinged with a hint of curiosity and a touch of anticipation.

P.S not proofread; I wrote this at 3 am 💞

[holylulusworld]

Every Breath You Take (2)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Bucky x Alpine (platonic)

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, bitchy boss, secret admirer trope, voyeurism, violence, threats

A/N: We start slowly to get to know them and their backstory. In this part, we will get to know Y/N better.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every Breath You take (1)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Bucky smirks when the man raises his hands in surrender. He tried to be a good man, but he couldn’t let anyone hurt you. This man threatened to fire you and called you a dumb bimbo.

“What have I done to you?” Your boss begs while facing a beyond angry super-soldier. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Bucky tilts his head and smirks behind his stocking mask. “You know what you did.” He growls and points the tip of his knife at the man’s chest. “The question is, do you regret your sins?”

“Sins?” He nervously shifts from one foot to the other. Your boss glances around his office, wondering if he can make it past his attacker and through the door. “I don’t know what you are talking about! Do you want money? I can pay you.”

“Money?” Bucky snorts. “People like you believe they get away with everything only because they are wealthy. I won’t let you get away with your sins. If you ever hurt her again, I’ll cut you open.”

Your boss is shaking in fear. His legs are about to give when Bucky wraps his metal hand around your boss’s throat. 

Bucky slams him into the wall and leans closer to inhale the fear waving off your boss’s body deeply. He presses the tip of his favorite knife into your boss’s chest, a warning to not mess with him. 

“If you ever even look at her the wrong way, I’ll come back and finish what I started today,” Bucky whispers in your boss’s ear. “Y/N Y/L/N is off limits. You hurt her, I hurt you. You yell at her; I’ll make your ears bleed. You touch her…well you don’t want to know what happens if you ever put your hands on my girl.”

“Y/N?” Your boss splutters. “She … I didn’t … it was …a misunderstanding. I was stressed and maybe I lost my countenance…I’m sorry. It will never happen again.”

“Good.”

Bucky drops his hand from your boss’s throat. He steps away and looks at the man messing with you up and down. “Don’t make me come back.”

“I won’t,” your boss sniffs. He tugs at his now wet pants, ashamed that Bucky scared him so much that he wet himself. 

“If you tell her about tonight, you will die. Y/N can never know,” Bucky points his knife at your boss. “This is your first and final warning.”

Before your boss can reply, Bucky is gone. Like a shadow, or a nightmare you wake from. Your boss sinks to his knees and starts to cry. 

“Morning,” you chirp as you walk inside the building. You greet the receptionist and smile as they wave back. “How are you today, Rodney?”

Rodney and you fall into an easy conversation. You giggle at something he said but freeze when your boss walks toward you and Rodney. He looks a little pale this morning and you wonder if he’s sick. 

“Good morning,” your boss nods at you and forces a smile on his face. He clears his throat and drops his gaze. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior over the last weeks. I was stressed, but this is no excuse for what I said.”

“Oh, I—” You’re taken aback by your boss's sudden change in demeanor. What has gotten into him? This is so unlike him, and you wonder what caused his behavioral changes. “I…I should head to my desk. Have a good day.”

“You accept my apologies, right?” He wrings his hands and pleadingly looks at you. Maybe someone reported him to HR, and he is trying to make amends now. “Please, I need to hear it.”

“We all make mistakes sometimes,” you hastily reply. “I accept your apologies, Sir. It was very nice of you to admit your mistake. Again, have a good day.”

You walk away to start the day. There is no time to analyze your boss’s behavior. Whatever made him change, it must’ve been traumatic. He looked scared when he looked at you.

Bucky smiles. “She looks happier today, Alpine,” he explains to his cat. “I think her boss got the message and apologized. Good for him. I’d hate to pay him another visit and to bring more knives.”

Alpine looks up at his owner and meows loudly. “I know,” Bucky sighs and pats the cat’s head. “I didn’t like hurting that man. Though, it had to be done. He would’ve hurt our girl again. I had to stop him.”

While you snuggle into your favorite blanket and switch the TV on, Bucky leans back in his armchair and sighs happily. The cameras he installed in your home make things so much easier for him.

He can watch you in every room via the monitors hanging on his walls. Well, in almost every room. James Buchanan Barnes is not a creep. He didn’t install a camera in your bathroom. 

“Do you think we should send her some flowers?” He wonders. “Or is it too soon?” Bucky rubs his chin. “No. Flowers are nice. She’ll be over the moon knowing that there is someone out there, admiring her beauty and grace.”

Alpine stretches and purrs. He presses his paws into Bucky’s thighs before lying back down. “Food was good, huh?” Bucky looks down at his cat. The white furball purrs loudly. “Your belly is full, and now we can watch our girl.”

You yawn. It’s getting late, but you are too tired to get up from the sofa. Rolling to your side you decide to sleep on your couch.

Your eyes flutter shut, and you snuggle into your favorite pillow. Sleep consumes you soon after, and you dream of a more interesting life than the one you are living at the moment.

The annoying sound of your alarm wakes you from your dream. You blink your eyes open and sigh. Just one more day and then it’s weekend.

As you sit up on your bed you frown. Last night you fell asleep on your couch. You’re sure you didn’t get up and walk inside your bedroom. 

But here you are, tugged in bed and there is even a glass of water on your nightstand. You usually forget to put a glass on the nightstand, and you didn’t set the alarm last night either.

How can this be? Did you sleepwalk? Maybe you were so tired you forgot that you went to bed last night.

You shrug. It’s time to get up and start a new day. There is no time to waste to find out how you got into your bed last night…

Part 3  

Tags in reblog.

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

2x12

spencer reid x morgan!reader

note: i got carried away with this one...

warnings: Sarah calls Spencer 'freaky' (lovingly), murder, eating/food

wordcount: 2388

Spencer was showing the girl’s his ‘physics magic’ when he got a little too comfortable and almost hit Hotch on his way into the bullpen. The girl’s pretended to not be involved as Hotch picked up the ‘rocket’ and looked at Spencer, “Physics magic?” “Yes, sir.” “Reid, we talked about this.” “I’m sorry, sir.”

The tense air in the room dissipated when Hotch placed the ‘rocket’ on the young man’s desk and said, “You’re starting to get some distance on those.”

The girls gathered back around the desk seemingly to have forgotten whatever they were doing that made them innocent to the physics magic happening.

“So he does have a sense of humour?” “Sometimes.” Spencer replied back to Emily, him and Y/n always seemed to be able to get him out of his usual stoic nature.

“So hey. Where’s the Morgans?” The brunette woman asked, Spencer once again had the answer, “Chicago. They go every year for their mother’s birthday.”

-

Derek and Y/n were walking out of the corner store and they got a couple things for their older sister, Sarah, before heading back home.

“You really think she’s got enough butter?” “Hey, y’know Sarah, if she doesn’t put it on the list, she doesn’t need it. She doesn’t make mistakes.” The younger girl said sarcastically, before they turned the corner to see Rodney and his guys.

“Y/n! Lookin’ good. I mean, damn, you’ve filled out in all the right places since you left.” “Step off, Rodney. Y/n/n get in the car.” “C’mon, D.” “I said get in the car.” Y/n accepted the defeat, whenever they got back to Chicago it was back to when they were kids, Y/n was a young helpless girl until big brother Derek came to the rescue.

“That’s okay, baby, I’ll get with you a little later, huh?” “In your dreams, Rodney.” “Most definitely. All night long, baby girl.”

Big brother Derek made his presence known, “You better step off before I make you wish you never walked up on me.” “Oh what? You two some bad-asses now ‘cause they pay you to wear that gun, Mr and Miss F.B.I?” “Rodney, he’s proved before he doesn’t need a gun to take you out.” “Past history? That’s a dangerous thing for you to count on, baby.” “Rodney. Walk away.”

Rodney laughs in Derek’s face, “Y/n/n, I’ll get at you a little later.” “Go to hell.” Rodney and his guys left around the corner, Derek motioned with his arm to get in the car, “C’mon, I’ll take you home. Then there’s something I gotta do.”

-

The five of them sat around the dinner table as Desi brought the cake in from the kitchen and Derek counted them in. “One, two, three” And they all sang happy birthday to their mom.

Their mom, of course, couldn’t have a moment just about her, even after Derek said ‘Go ahead, momma’ she didn’t blow out the candles before praising her second youngest’s effort.

“Did you make this yourself?” Desi replied, “Oh, Sarah and Y/n helped me.” “Momma, they wouldn’t let me help so I don’t know how good it’s gonna taste.” Derek said, teasing his sisters. But Sarah always made sure to put D in his place, “Oh, no, no, you remember that Christmas fiasco of 1994?”

“I remember that.” “The fire!” “Oh, that was bad.”

“Whatever, that was 12 years ago! Let it go!” “No, no, no, we still get cards from the fire department.” “Serious?” Y/n asked from her spot next to her older sister.

“Mama, you see how they treat your baby boy?” “You be good to your brother.” “Uh-huh, what she said!” “You got the ‘baby’ part right at least.” Y/n mumbled, intended for Sarah to hear but she spoke a little loud.

“Okay you know what?” “Hey!" “You better watch out!” The siblings fought over the table. “What? What?” “All right!”

Their fighting could only be put to rest by their mom. And when she did, they got back to her blowing out her candles, “Okay, wish, a wish..”

And cheering began as their mom finally blew out her candles.

-

“What is it?” The siblings laughed from their scattered places on the couch, watching their mom open her gifts. It was Derek’s turn and he explained to their mom what he got her and how she can use it. After some teasing Sarah and Desi started cleaning up a little so Y/n and Derek could catch up more with their mom since they don’t get to see her as much.

“We miss you two around here.” “I know.” Y/n leant her head on the older woman’s shoulder as she was holding Derek’s hand. Derek usually covered this for them, he knew Y/n felt guilty for not being around more so he was always the one to explain it to their mom.

“You’re careful right? I lost your dad. I can’t lose you two.” “You won’t.” “And watch after this one she was always the trouble maker.” “I do.”

She patted her son’s hand before she got back to the teasing, something the Morgan’s were very good at, “Good, cause you owe me some grandbabies.” “Look at her, she’s got the genius wrapped around her finger.” “D, give that up!”

This was not the first time their mom had heard about Spencer. Derek loved bringing it up to deflect questions off of him.

"That Doctor you work with? Are you two together now? Why didn't you mention it, baby?"

But suddenly a loud and persistent knocking on the door broke the family from their chatter. “Saved by the bell! Get it, D, you’re closest.” Detek swatted at his little sister before getting the door. And it was Sheriff Gordinski.

“Gordinski?” “You armed?” “Excuse me?” “Are you wearing a gun?” “No, not right now.” “Then turn around.” Derek laughed, he’s an FBI agent who does Gordinski think he is? Was all Y/n could think.

“You’re under arrest, Derek.”

-

“C’mon Wally, you got to tell me something, my team is on the case!” “I don’t answer to you, Morgan.” “You called in FBI? I’m FBI.”

The woman was standing, towering over Wally as he sat on his desk not giving her a second glance, he never respected her and he wasn’t gonna start now.

“Special Agent Hotchner, FBI, I’m looking for-” He brilliant and stoic voice of her boss, Hotch, cut through the background chatter of the station.

Y/n quickly discarded Wally after seeing the team making her way over to them and interrupting an officer at his desk that Hotch originally asked, “Oh, Hotch- Chuck, I got this.” She liked Chuck. He was one the alright guys, he’d helped her get out of a lot back in the day.

“How’re you guys doing? I’m Wally Dennison, CPD.” “Unimportant. The only reason he’s left hand man is ‘cause he does whatever Gordi tells him to.” Hotch seemingly moved right past the comment, “Where’s Agent Morgan?” “Detective Gordinski’s in with the suspect now.” “I need to see him.” And for the millionth time, Wally gets in over his head and has no idea what and where his place is. As he walked away the girl mumbled, “I don’t like them calling D a ‘suspect’” into JJ’s shoulder as the older woman gave her a side hug.

-

Gordinski finally came out from wherever he was, letting Hotch go in to talk to Derek. Gordi went on to tell Gideon how helpful his profile was in arresting Derek. Worst part was he never cared to hide his distaste for the man, calling Derek a ‘son of a bitch’. That racist bastard! Was all Y/b could think.

Spencer could see the signs of anger in Y/n the way she was scratching her skin, he always hated it when she did it. Luckily she only did when she was mad, which was not a lot, but right now she was really mad. Spencer cut her off when he saw she was going to say something that definitely shouldn’t come out of an FBI agent’s mouth.

“Detective, a profile’s just a guide.” “This one guided me to him.” “They’re really more useful in the elimination of suspects-” “Not the inclusion. Gordi, you got the wrong guy.” She mumbled, not quietly.

Gordinski walked the team through his flawed work, he showed them the coincidences he’s found and the circumstantial evidence he’s collected.

Spencer reached down and grabbed Y/n’s hand from where it was scratching her skin and brought it towards him to hold, biether thought too much of the gesture, but JJ did and made sure she’d tell Garcia about it when this was all cleared up.

“There are key pieces of the profile that don’t fit, Detective. The age, 25-35, Morgan was 15 or so at the time.” “Also says that age is the hardest to predict.” He had a point there, “-And I should never exclude someone simply because of a discrepancy with the age.”

“What about the speculation that since he didn’t manage to leave any evidence at the scene of the crime that he most likely has a criminal record or previous law enforcement knowledge? Derek wasn’t even in the bureau yet when the first body was found.”

She knew Gordi was gonna break the news so Y/n did it for him, maybe that in some way will she Gordinski that Derek wasn’t hiding that, “Derek, had a criminal record.”

-

Gordinski was back at his desk now, the team had a quiet discussion without his input. Finally.

“Y/n, you bring Prentiss and Reid to talk to your family. Learn all about him, especially at the time of the first murder.”

“I don’t have a car, one of the cops brought me down.”

“I can take you.” Wally seemed to cut in out of nowhere, and with how much he annoys Y/n she was quick to jump on him for it, “Wally, we don’t need-” “No, actually, that’s not a bad idea.” Gideon said. “Right. Lead the way, Walls.”

-

“Is Derek alright?” “He wouldn’t let us go down there, Y/n luckily convinced him to let her go.” Y/n’s mom added on to her older sister's initial question “He’s fine. Our boss is with him.” “He’s okay, momma.” Y/n reassured further after Emily.

“Did they he and Y/n tell you Gordinski’s been harassing him since he was a kid?” “Whys that?” Spencer asked, innocently, not realising he was asking Sarah, “You’d have to ask the bastard.” Y/n was sat in the chair in front of him, reaching her hand back and patted Spencer’s arm in sympathy, as their mom shared her disappointment with Sarah’s harsh words.

Wally had some things to say that only made Sarah more riled up, “What are you even doing in my mother’s house?!” “They asked me.” “Not really.” Spencer mumbled, eating the piece of cake.

“I don’t understand how they could think he did this.” “Someone may be trying to make it look like he hurt those kids.” “And the police believe it?” “But he’s an FBI agent.” Desi cut, Y/n was about to gently tell her sister that in an investigation that doesn’t really matter, but of course Spencer cut in with his ever present knowledge.

“Actually, law enforcement officials are just as probable statistically to commit a crime as anyone else.” Y/n placed her head in her hands, she loved hearing Spencer talk about what he knows but sometimes- he just can’t read a room “Look at the cross-section of a society, there’s a general population and a small fraction of this percentage is-” “Momma, he’s not saying they believe D is involved in this.” “Oh, no, no! Yeah, not at all! I’m merely speaking theoretically.”

Sarah almost looks at him like he’s crazy, and Desi speaks up from where she’s standing behind their mom, seemingly only talking to embarrass her little sister. “You're Dr. Reid?” “Mhmm.” “Derek and Y/n have talked about you.” And her head falls back onto her hands. “Really?” Spencer says, smugly from his spot above his best friend.

“Derek loves kids. Every time he’s here he goes to the youth centre.” “Youth Centre?” “The Upward Youth Centre.” “Does that have some sort of significance for him?” Spencer cut into Emily and Mrs.Morgan’s conversation to ask, “What are you saying? There’s something in it for him, other than giving back to poor kids of your neighbourhood?” “Sarah, these are me and D’s friends. They’re only here to help. When they ask a question, it isn’t to denigrate or demean anything Derek’s done.” “We just have to know everything so we can figure out where to look next. Does The Youth Centre hold any special significance to him?”

“The Youth Centre saved his life.”

Sarah and their mom explained to Emily and Spencer and maybe even Y/n, since she was too young at the time, the history between Derek and the law and Gordinski.

After hearing about Carl, Emily decided she was headed there next, leaving Y/n and Spencer with her family.

-

Spencer and Y/n were left at her mom’s house till the case eventually closed, and Derek got closure and justice for the boys. But until then,

Y/n knew what the team was doing with this, Y/n was too connected to the case and Spencer stayed with her because he could keep her at a level head.

They continued looking through old stuff of Detek’s and some of all the siblings, Spencer loved seeing the pictures of when Y/n was a child. At this point their job was more so to keep Sarah from freaking and keeping her mom from worrying too much about Derek.

“What’s this one?” “Aww, that was Y/n the week after Derek left for college.” The photo was of a young Y/n with a pout on her lips, it was Spencer’s favourite, she still made that same face from time to time. It was cute.

The women slowly left the dining table and made their way to the living room, watching how the two at the table didn’t even notice. Spencer was too busy looking for more adorable photos and Y/n trying to gather the incriminating ones.

“I thought Derek was just teasing her, but she really does like that freaky genius boy that much.”

~taglist ~

@chrissyclg @pillsbury-doughgirl @the-holy-trinity-l @theillestvillain3 @random000000sblog @flow33didontsmoke

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Five:: [Why Do They Call It Love?]

Summary: Jake spends time with his side of the family and your kiddos in Texas. The lies quickly come to an end though when an overworked and overwhelmed nursing student makes the wrong call to your not-so-emergent contact.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Overbearing mothers.

Word Count: 5K

Author Note: The last chapter update before Christmas! EEP! It's one of the moments we've all been waiting for too.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It’s not too late you know—“ Jake watched as his father, the man who had many times throughout his childhood and teenage adolescents put his hands on him, poured himself a drink at the small but decent bar in the room Jake and his groomsmen were getting ready in. “To call this whole thing off that is.” 

All Jake could do was press his lips together in a fine line of disappointment, he’d expected this. Hell if anything he was actually pleasantly surprised Rod had been able to hold off for as long as he could. 

“I wouldn’t have asked Y/n to marry me if I didn’t want to marry her, Dad.” Jake sighed as he watched his father smirk and swirl his scotch around in the glass he held firmly in his ageing hand. 

“You're not afraid of being reductive, are you son?.” Rodney Seresin was a hard man to understand, he showed little empathy towards others or emotion in general. Jake had never even seen the man drink anything beside single malt scotch. “I doubt you have more fear than the average asshole who decides to get hitched.” The almost self deprecating follow up did little to soothe the frown etched almost permanently onto Jake's face whenever he was around his father. “If anything you seem pretty fearless walking headstrong into a marriage that will surely end up on some poor clerks desk just waiting to be stamped as null and void.” Jake couldn’t find the right words to say as he watched Rodney take a swig of the amber liquor that would surely give the bastard liver cancer at some stage. But Jake mustard up the first few that came to mind. 

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough to drink pops, you’re projecting your own fears about love onto me, on my wedding day.” Jake had a lot of big emotions about his father. Deep down Jake wanted him to be proud of the man he’d become, especially on his wedding day. But Jake also knew, after some pretty intense therapy sessions, that his father’s approval never really meant anything. 

“Oh please, everyone’s scared of love dipshit—you learn that in your twenties, or at least I did anyway.” Jake's father grumbled as he went about pouring himself another drink. Only this time he reached for another glass to pour Jake one too. “It takes a special kind of lunacy to not be afraid of happiness and my boy do you fit the bill.” 

“That’s so dumb—“ Jake scoffed, he wasn’t about to stand here and listen to a cranky old man project his beliefs, he’d done that all throughout his childhood whenever his father made comments about his mother only being good for two things. Those two things eventually evolved into three once Jake was old enough for the ‘birds and the bees’ talk. 

“No you’re dumb and that’s exactly why you aren’t afraid of happiness.” Rodney huffed. “The smarter you are the more you know, happiness is a fucking trap that can’t and won’t ever last forever.”

“That woman out there is about to be my wife—“ Jake argued as he tried to contain his rage. The vein in his neck throbbed as he clenched his jaw and balled his fist to maintain his control. This guy wasn’t worth it, he never had been and never would be and the last thing Jake ever wanted was to be any way, shape, or form like his father. “You don’t get to tell me I won’t be happy marrying the woman I love, who I’ve been in love with since the first time I saw her. The woman, who mind you, is one of the most intelligent people I know, loves me for me! Without the goddamn last name or family values, she loves me for me which is something that you wouldn’t understand.” Jake would never forget this, that on his wedding day or all days his father felt it was necessary to get up on his soap box. “You’re unbelievable—“ 

“You really think that some aspiring author who’s biggest accomplishment is working a full time position at the local bookstore is the love of your life?” Rodney asked with enough conviction in his tone that Jake thought for a moment it was a genuine question—but as always it was used to mask a dig at your chosen profession. The real question was if Jake loved you for you, the answer would always be wholeheartedly. 

“I’ve experienced more love knowing Y/n these last few years than you ever had with Ma and as much as I hate that for her I’m glad she doesn’t give two shits about you.” Jake argued, the anger had materialised across his face in a deep shade of red. 

“Jacob, even if you consider this girl to be the love of your life It’s still going to end.” Jake stepped a little further forward to close some distance between himself and his father. The older man reached out to extend the amber liquid to his only son. The disappointment, the mistake. Jake reluctantly accepted the vessel. “It's inevitable, whether it be by the slow pull of disease, or the shock of loose footing on a hiking trail.” Rodney grumbled on as he eyed his son down trying to make a point that this day for Jake would eventually be as meaningless as his existence. “Or perhaps in your case it’ll be the corrosion of two different personalities that reshape each other until they’re no longer compatible.” 

“You’re just a cranky old bastard aren’t you?” Jake couldn’t think of anything else to say to his father as his groomsmen filed back into the room all laughing and ready to lead Jake out to the ceremony. 

“Maybe, but I’m a bastard with a point—happiness always ends.” Rodney smirked. “Think about it, the best case scenario, son, is that you both die at the same time.” Jake felt like he couldn’t breathe as his best man slapped his hands on his suited up shoulders. They’d just gotten back from their own first look with you. Some still had tears in their eyes. You were just that beautiful. 

“You ready man? It’s time.” Jake looked down at the drink in his hand his father had poured him before he took the entirety of the amber liquid he hoped one day would be the reason for his father’s demise in his mouth. The eye contact between father and son never broke as Jake swallowed without a fuss. 

“As I’ll ever be.” 

***~***~***~***~***~

The Oncology ward was never your favourite place, hell it was never a place you thought you’d have to frequent, but the copious amounts of Christmas decorations that lined the halls and boarded the nurses station, put a smile to your weary face. Those decorations hadn't been there the last time you met with your oncologist to discuss your treatment plan. That meeting had felt like a lifetime go, but in reality it was only a mere few weeks. 

“Okay so this is your room.” One of the nurses that had helped admit you as a patient to Rhode Island Hospital oncology ward smiled behind you as you and your mum carried your bags into the room. “Try to make yourself at home, we find that the more homely people make their room the easier the stay is.” 

She was young, fresh out of college and still had those brown baby eyes that looked like they just wanted to save every person she came into contact with. High hopes that would soon come to realise that in life you couldn’t save everyone. Lydia was her name, or so the badge credentials that hung from her scrub top told you.  

“Will do.” You smiled, nothing would make this easier. Nothing about this entire situation was or would be easy. 

Lydia left you and your mother alone to settle your things, knowing you were about to spend a your holidays couped up in a hospital room made your heart ache for the holiday memories where your children were opening presents under the tree as you and Jake drank coffee spiked with Baileys at six am in the afternoon. 

The ever looming crisis of impending death always made you wonder if last Christmas would be your last Christmas with your little family. It made you wonder if you’d ever get to spend a holiday like this with them again. Lucy and Lennox would turn seven in February, Samuel would be three in August, it dawned on you as you placed your toiletries in the bathroom, would you get to see your children grow? Watch them fall in love for the first time, learn new skills, develop into adults, get married, graduate. All the things you wanted to see as a mother. 

“Where do you want me to put these?” Your mother called out as you turned around to see her holding up a string of multicoloured Christmas lights. You frowned at the woman who had been there for you through thick and thin with her childlike mannerisms and christmas cheer. 

“Mum, why do you have Christmas lights?” You sighed softly like you were trying to be brave and take all of this on the chin. 

“I thought that the least I could do would be to help decorate your room, you are in here over the holidays afterall, why not spend some time decorating while you can?” She beamed as she took you under her arm and wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “Brought you a little Christmas tree too.” 

“You didn’t have to do that—“ You appreciated the festive atmosphere though and knew over the coming days that you’d appreciate the warmth even more. Right now though all you wanted to do was sleep. 

“I know, but you’re my baby—“ She whispered back softly as you both looked around the blank space, the sterile environment that was about to be your home for the next three weeks at the minimum. “So I reckon we put them all the way around the room.”

“It’s gonna look like the first season of stranger things in here.” You chuckled which quickly turned into a throaty cough your mother frowned in worry over, but you reassured her you were fine once you caught your breath. “I’m fine, promise—“ The world felt off for a split second. Like tunnel vision was threatening to take you hostage out of nowhere–a blackening darkness loomed behind your eyes as spotted fragments came and left in the space of a few seconds. “Woah, that was a little odd.” 

“Sweetheart?” Your mothers eyes nearly popped out of her head when she realised what was happening. “Do you feel okay?” It was a hard question to answer, it always had been. But right now it was harder than ever. 

“I’m a little light headed, why?” It wasn’t anything unusual, but with the way your mum was staring at you like you’d just grown another head from your shoulder made you think it was something more serious. “Mum?” Something was off as you stood trying to figure out what was going on, your body felt weird, like a tingling sensation had tickled its way across your skin. 

“The left side of your face is drooping.” Your mother explained as she put the lights down on your bed. “Your cheek is–”

“What?” You asked nearly in disbelief at her reaction to face slightly drooping opposed to your right. “What are you even talking about?” 

“I’m getting the nurse, I think somethings wrong, I think you're having a stroke.” This couldn’t be happening, what more could life throw at you? First a breast cancer diagnosis and now a fucking stroke? “Stay here.”

“I’m literally admitted! Where do you think I’m going to go!” Your voice followed your mother out towards the nurses station as you tried to take a few steps, that’s when you realised though that the entire left side of your body had gone numb and tingly. “Oh god—“ Panic soon set in as you took a seat on your hospital bed. Tears flooded your eyes as an immense wave of anger and despair erupted out of your soul. 

This wasn’t fair. None of it was. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Dad!! Push me higher!” Lenny laughed as Jake pushed him on the swing set in the backyard of his family’s home. 

“Any higher and you’ll do a loop around man.” Jake chuckled but he obliged by his son's wishes and gave him a little more of a chesty send off when the swing carrying his son came back his way. 

More of the Seresins spending Christmas and new years at home had since arrived and the festivities were well and truly underway. Jake watched as the sun set below the rolling hills along the horizon as his mothers festoon lights illuminated the back deck. They reminded him of Penny’s, the ones that always made the Hard Deck balcony seem so much brighter. 

“When mum told me Y/n wasn’t coming this year I thought she was lying.” Jasmine called out as she made her way across the backyard to where Jake stood playing with his two boys. Sammy sat by his leg fixated on the tonka truck Jake swore was gonna leave the biggest bruise on his shin if the kid kept ramming it into him. “What’s going on with you two?” 

“You know—“ Jake groaned, he was just about over the question as much as you were. Everyone knew, it wasn’t a secret Jake kept close to his chest. He knew he fucked his marriage up, he knew he was the problem. But it didn’t help when everyone asked what was going on between the pair of you over and over and over again. 

It was like opening up an old wound over and over again. Watching the infection spread, watching the tissue decay and slapping a gauze on it hoping that it’ll heal in time. 

But as you pointed out, time didn’t always heal old wounds and you were still very much healing from the damage Jake had caused when he lost focus and sight of the things that mattered most to him. 

He didn’t realise you were gone until you had locked the door behind you and taken the key. 

“I just thought it was a rough patch. I didn't think you guys wouldn’t spend Christmas together.” Jasmine Seresin was the youngest daughter of all the Seresin Siblings and Jake's most fearsome protector. She was always in his corner ready to go into bat for him just as much as Jake was for her. “What’s she doing anyway?” Jake assumed it was because of their close age gap, Jasmine always said it was because Jake couldn't throw a solid punch to save himself.

“Uh she’s going on a trip to Banff—“ Jake continued to push Lenny on the swing set his uncle had built over thirty years ago. It was a ridiculous thing with its over the top attachments and its stainless steel finishing. The slide used to burn the crap out of your ass if you went down the thing in the midsummer Texas heat. But it was still good as it was the first day Jake and his sisters took it for its very first spin. Now he was a dad, pushing his son on that same damn swing he cried on when he scuffed his knee playing tag. “Some friend's trip she was invited on.” Jake wished he knew more but he never wanted to pry. You had a private life now he wasn't privy to. “She hasn’t really told me much about it and I didnt wanna ask in case she thought I was being controlling.” 

“Oh.” Jasmine had to stop herself from saying what she was thinking straight off the top of her head, but Jake knew her better than that. He could practically see the cogs in her brain twisting and turning and working together to formulate her next opinion. 

“Say it—“ Jake encouraged. “Go on, I know you want to.” 

“It’s just Banff can be awfully romantic this time of year and all.” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to tell my ex husband about a new fling that’s taking me to Banff for Christmas either.” 

“I wonder how the conversation will go when she tells that guys she fucked said ex husband the night before she flew out then.” Jake smirked as he pushed his son a little higher to hear his screams of joy as Jasmine cupped her hand over her wide open mouth. “I don’t think there’s a guy.” 

“Holy shit you two are so getting back together.” 

“If mum had it her way I’d be divorced six ways till Sunday and have an open day down at the church for potential candidates she approves of.” Jake couldn’t have rolled his eyes any harder as Jasmine groaned and rubbed her temples. 

“You’re her baby boy Jake, she’s obsessed with you—god she never did like Y/n all that much did she?” 

“Nah—and I honestly think this whole separation has just made her delusional self more delusional.” 

“I don’t want you two losing sight of the love you have for each other because of a rough patch.” Jasmine nearly warned as she bumped Jake's hip with her own. “You're too pig-headed sometimes.” 

“Funny, I’ve got a wingwoman who says the same damn thing.”

“Sounds like my kinda gal.” Jake had to scoff at the idea that immediately popped into his mind. Phoenix was very much his sister's type and he knew that. 

“You tell mum about Racheal yet?” What Janeen Seresin didn’t know about her youngest daughter was that she and her husband Eric, who stood grilling away with Jake's father, had recently decided that monogamy just wasn’t their thing. Racheal had started off as a babysitter for the couple's two kids, ten year old Stacey and eight year old Lewis. When Jake found out that Jasmine was bisexual he didn’t blink and eye, but he did spit his beer all over Rooster when she told him she and Eric where both happily fucking the nanny. Sometimes together. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? She’s already on the verge of an eruption over one of her kids on the brink of no fault divorce, could you imagine what would happen if I came out at the family Christmas party?” Jake just chuckled and shook his head pretending like he didn’t already know it would end in disaster. “I’d meet our ancestors Jake, all the way back to pre colonial times my guy, you’re my scapegoat right now.” 

“Happy to be of assistance.” Jake just laughed at his sister's chaos. He watched with a smile half the size of his face as she turned to walk off. Not before she turned around and gave the most obnoxious salute she could have. 

“Appropriate your service, Lieutenant.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Your daughter’s going under for a procedure we call a thrombectomy to remove the suspected blood clot from inside her artery.” Your mother sat in the waiting area of the emergency surgery floor she’d been escorted to once you had been whisked away. “Luckily for her we caught this so early she should have practically no defecates depending on how the surgery goes.” 

First your separation, then your breast cancer diagnosis and now a stroke, what more could you possibly have to deal with. 

“What caused it? She's been rather sick the last few days, throwing up, not sleeping, eating.” Your mother explained to the resident who had come out to update her on your status. “She's already dealing with so much.” 

“Unfortunately this isn't uncommon in young woman who go through severe bouts of stress, i've read your daughter's file and its safe to say that the clot was probably due to her current oral chemo, plus a combination of high stress from the diagnosis, her blood pressure and her bodies inability to sustain proper nutrients, it's a perfect storm for these sorts of things.” It made sense but the explanation didn't make the outcome of the situation you were facing any easier for your mother to handle. “Rest assured your daughter is in really good hands and the fact she was already inside the hospital when the stroke started to manifest itself means her chances of a full recovery are rather high.” 

“But now she’ll just live long enough to slowly deteriorate and be taken by the cancer, won't she?” Your mother wouldn't ever admit it to you, but the phone call where you told her that you had been diagnosed with Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma, was one of the worst days of her life. The first being the day your father and the love of her life died far too young far too quickly. “My daughter is strong, Doctor Phillips, but she's just one woman, how much is she expected to be dealt before she gives up.” 

Doctor Phillips, the resident who had been tasked with updating your mother, just flashed her a look of sympathy laced in professionalism that truly showed a testament to her ability to not let her own feelings get in the way of her patients and their families. 

“Let's take this one step at a time, Miss O’riley.” She added politely before saying goodbye and left your mother to sit in silence watching the clock tick, although she didn't take her eyes off the clock on the wall for a mere second, time still felt like it stood still while you were on that operating table.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The day had been long, overdrawn, and full of mindless family drama over dinner on the back deck the first night Jake and the kids were in Texas. One night down only.. “Oh God–” Jake groaned as he finally let his head rest on the pillow and realised he would be here for a full two weeks before he could escape the family he never wanted to be anything alike. 

The kids had gone down relatively easy with little to no tears, Lucy was a little upset that you never called like you said you would and Jake was slightly concerned that you never returned his calls or texts. However he also understood you didn't owe him a damn thing and for all he knew, you were still up in the air, on your way to the very beginning of what he hoped would be a fantastic kid tree trip. You did after all deserve some time away. 

Jake had thought quickly on his feet before the tears could start though, he told Lucy that you had said you'd call in the morning because you knew that you'd keep her up far too long. He just hoped as his own head hit the pillow that you would in fact call in the morning. 

Ten o'clock seemed rather early to be heading off to bed but Jake needed to reset his mind in order to be able to handle his family for two more weeks. He needed at least a solid eight hours before his sister Abigail joined in on the festivities for tomorrow with her own family. Jake was the only Seresin sibling this year without his partner present and god did he feel like the black sheep. 

What really cemented that fact he was the family disappointment was when his father had handed him a beer and said the only thing he’d spoken to Jake the entire time he’d been home. A quick, monotone “I told you so son, happiness never lasts.” 

His childhood bedroom hadn’t changed a single bit. As Jake laid in the twin bed he lost his virginity in, he listened to the baby monitor that kept a watchful eye on his three kids just down the hall. Little Sammy was sound asleep, Lucy and Lenny thought they were in the clear but they were up talking about whatever it is young twins talk about late at night while they’re visiting their grandparents place. 

Jake wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep but the sound of his phone going off on the small bedside table surely woke him up in enough of a frazzled state to know it had been a few hours, long enough for his body to truly settle into a deep state of rest. 

“Fuck–” Jake growled as he reached up for his phone. “The fuck is–who the hell is–” Jake grumbled as he sat up in the twin bed and tried to remember where he knew that area code from as the unknown number illuminated his phonescreen. “Hello?” It was a last minute decision to answer once Jake had actually seen the time, two thirty in the morning to be exact. 

“Hi, would I be speaking to Mr. Seresin?” Lydia asked politely on the other end of the line, she sat at the nurses station on the ass end of her double shift. A double shift she wasn't supposed to be working. She couldn't feel her feet with how badly they were throbbing, her eyelids were far too heavy to keep up and she hadn’t eaten since noon yesterday, but her patients came first. Lydia Hudson was determined to be the best nurse she could be and that included updating your emergency contact on your post-op recovery. 

“This is he.” Jake replied rather roughly into the phone as he held it to his ear in the darkness of his childhood bedroom. His voice was an octave deeper than it usually was with how tired he was. 

“Hi Jake, this is Lydia calling from Rhode Island Hospital.” It took Jake's brain a moment to catch up to his heart as the women on the other end of the line spoke, but it caught up soon enough. “I'm just calling to let you know how your wife went in her emergent surgery, it seems as though we were able to retrieve the clot before it could cause any irreparable deficits.” Jake frowned as he ran his hand over his face, he wasn't sure what the hell he was listening to but his heart was hammering inside his chest. “There doesn't seem to be any critical deficits at the moment, she's on some pretty intense pain medication but we’re hoping that it won't interfere with her upcoming Mastectomy and chemotherapy sessions.” 

“Im–I'm sorry, do you have the wrong number?” Jake questioned. “You said my wife?” 

“Y/n Seresin?, I’m so sorry if no one had updated you sooner, but while she was setting up her room in oncology she suffered a moderate stroke we think was brought on by the–” 

“Oncology meaning?” Jake was beginning to break out in a sweat as his heart raced. No, no you were supposed to be on a plane to Banff, you should have been in Calgary by now. 

“The cancer ward–?” Lydia replied. “Mr. Seresin you do know your wife was admitted for stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma, right?” Lydia frowned as she read over your notes again trying to understand why the man she had just called, your husband, didn’t seem to know a damn thing about your situation. “She was just put through admission today when she–” Lydia paused when she saw it, your actual emergency contact. It wasn’t Jake Seresin who was listed as your emergency contact on your paperwork, but your mother who was currently sitting at your bedside watching your chest move up and down post your operation. “Oh my god–” 

“Y/n—“ Jake couldn’t make sense of what he’d just been told. “Has cancer? My wife Y/n has cancer?” Jake had to say it out loud for the realisation to kick in. “She has cancer? My wife had a stroke? What the hell is–” 

“Mr. Seresin I’m so unbelievably sorry but I can’t share any more details with you under HIPAA, I’ve just realised you weren’t listed as your wife’s emergency contact.” 

“She has cancer? My Y/n has cancer?” The vomiting, the flu that Lucy said you had had for weeks now, how tired you looked, it all made sense. “Oh god—“ Jake felt the tears spilling down his cheeks as he jumped out of his childhood bed and hit the light switch. “No, oh god no.” He felt like he was going to throw up as he rummaged through his duffle for a clean shirt and shorts. “How long has she known?” The call, the need for Jake to take the kids, the way you wouldn't even give him a chance to right his wrongs, divorce…. “How long has she known for?” 

“I’m so sorry Jake, I can’t share any more details with you.” Lydia apologised before she began to panic and hung up the phone, leaving Jake in his newest existential crisis. 

Jake had to go, he had to get back to you, why the fuck would you not tell him this? How long have you known? How long did you have left even? What was your prognosis? Jake had so many questions that were left unanswered as he changed and grabbed his wallet. He was booking the next available flight back to Rhode Island as he shoved all his stuff back into his duffel bag. 

The kids would have to stay—oh god the kids. Your kids. No. No this wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. Jake felt his heart racing as he silently cried in the middle of his childhood bedroom. His hand came to cover his mouth, minimising his cries to a silent but painful whale. He couldn’t lose you like this. What did that nurse mean when she said you had a stroke? 

But out of everything Jake had been told he knew one thing for sure as he tried to pull himself together off the floor and get back to you as soon as he could. 

That there never had been a Banff trip planned.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional l @jessicab1991 91 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove ve @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: Wally hadn't been able to make sense of what you'd said. How had it been possible that he and the others had been trapped for so long without knowing it? With that truth out for him to examine, Wally hadn't been sure he'd wanted to look any closer. He'd felt violated. Betrayed. Lost. What other lies had he been unwittingly a part of?

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.14

The world fell away as your words penetrated. Wally stilled, didn't breathe, didn't blink, didn't make a sound. As if he could delay the impact of that truth if he shut down critical functions.

Weakly, "What do you...mean?" Wally croaked, but something deep within himself had always known.

Known it like common sense; the feeling like looking at a green sky and knowing it was supposed to be blue. Like being sick since birth yet knowing that that wasn't what healthy felt like. He'd known and yet never questioned it because he and the others had had no way to be sure their situation was terribly, tragically wrong.

In the earliest days succeeding his untimely demise, Wally had tried to leave the school.

Not to follow his mother home after she'd donated his trophies, helmet, and jacket to display in the stadium entrance. Not to join his friends in Rodney's basement to get stoned after his memorial service. Not to break his own heart by stalking Jenny to the motel where she and her second choice prom date, Gary fucking Reid, lost their virginities together.

Rather, to go for a walk for the sake of getting some air. Despite having been flung back to the field multiple times by then—a lesson that had drilled into him the habit of remaining perpetually vigilant of his surroundings—Wally had had this intrinsic understanding that he could roam beyond what the barrier permitted.

So much so that, one evening, he hadn't kept track of where he'd been going (partly because he'd trusted himself to veer away from the perimeter, but mostly because he'd been relaxed. Not actively chasing down a loved one). It'd been an unconscious series of actions; one foot in front of the other, listening to Eddie Money's Can't Hold Back on a Lost & Found walkman, strolling into the thin smattering of trees on the edge of the grounds, and then wham—

Back to Start.

It had happened a few times after that, too. Rhonda would cackle around her lollipop du jour, roll her eyes, and tell him to, "Get smart, Jockstrap."

When Charley had come along, he'd experienced the same thing. And then Ajay and Katelynn. Learning the lesson after the lesson had been learned. Mr. Martin had calmly and wisely informed them that it was merely the result of not having internalized being dead yet.

But that hadn't sat right with Wally, similar to having been given the excuse of roughhousing when he'd caught his parents in a compromising position one innocuous summer-break afternoon before he'd aged into double digits.

"Babe..." Wally croaked, just above a whisper, the weight of what you'd unveiled slamming into his chest and leaving him winded, "What are you saying?"

Your eyes, marbled and bright—though not outright glowing like they had in the theater—stared right into him for a moment. You were obviously calculating what it meant that Wally couldn't leave the high school, all the hows and whys flittering like dust motes between you and him.

"Unless you're a residual haunter, like Mina or Yuri, you should be able to go wherever you want. How long have you been stuck?"

Wally's throat clicked when he swallowed, "Since I died."

You pressed your forehead to his, hands slotting under his jaw, and, voice laced with grief, said, "That's not possible."

"I mean, maybe it is?" Wally tried to reason, slumping back in his seat and staring at the 5-yard line as he stitched together his own theories based on what he'd learned as an actual dead person. "It's not like ghosts wrote those books you read. Maybe whoever wrote them got it wrong."

Shaking your head, "Actually, they did. Not the physical copies, obviously, but those authors collaborated with ghosts to write those books."

Wally didn't know what to say to that. Didn't know if he could answer a lot of things anymore. Did he even know what it meant to be dead?

You seemed willing wait him out as he turned everything over in his head, one hand on his shoulder, the other lifting the one he'd had on your calf so you could string his arm through your legs and cradle his hand on your belly, your thumb rubbing soothing patterns between the bones.

"What does it mean?" He asked, distant.

Wally could feel himself slipping away, the revelation frosting him from the inside and making him numb. He'd had a similar experience when he'd been fourteen and had broken his collarbone. The pain so intense that his brain had immediately severed its connection to the feeling.

Shock.

"It means that something doesn't want you to leave." You answered once he'd returned his eyes to yours. Your features creased, "Or someone."

Wally felt that statement like a nail through the chest. "How?"

You stared at him helplessly, caressing his cheek and then tilting forward to press your foreheads together again. The action worked to ground Wally, reeled him back from the edge of an existential crisis he wasn't ready to have.

Regretfully, "I don't know, Wally. But we'll figure it out, okay?"

He nodded against you. Closed his eyes and absorbed the warmth of your nearness, the solidity of your touch. Allowed those things to calm him.

"At least we can rule out Mr. A having anything to do with that, right?" Wally snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood.

You pulled back, smiled gently, and nodded, "Right. But he could've used it to his advantage. With her soul stuck here, Maddie wouldn't be able to get back into her body and then go to the police. It also means that he could've safely stashed her body anywhere, so long as he has access to life support."

"You think he dropped her at the hospital?"

"Not here." You said, "Split River isn't big enough to pull that off. He could've driven her to another state? Dropped her off at a big city hospital as a Jane Doe?"

Wally grimaced, shaking his head at the depravity, "That's messed up."

"God, her body could be in Detroit for all we know and it wouldn't get back here until someone in the hospital there made the connection. Unless Sheriff Baxter decides to widen the search."

"Couldn't you ask him? It's like you said, Xavier's your brother from another mother. Wouldn't the sheriff listen to you?"

You didn't seem convinced, reciting in a satire of an upbeat tone, "Hey Sheriff, I think my teacher knocked Maddie out of her body and took it to another state all so she wouldn't tell you about the money he's hiding in his classroom. We should totally look into that."

Wally responded in a responsible manner, "That sounds like an awful idea, let's not do that."

Curling against the back of your seat, voice slightly strangled, you uttered, "So, Maddie's stuck in an In Between 'til I can find her body and bring it back to her."

Wally sensed the granite mass of the pressure you were already putting on yourself. Choosing to steer you out from under it, he diverted the conversation, "Still haven't told me what an In Between is, by the way."

It did the trick, at least for the time being. Your lips quirked up at the corners and the wrinkle between your brows vanished as you informed him, "It's exactly what it sounds like. A plain between plains."

"Yeah, pretty thing, you're going to have to dumb it down more." Wally said, willing to sacrifice his dignity for the sake of making you smile.

Grinning, you set the stage, "Think of plains like different worlds. I'm in the living world, you're in the dead world, right?"

"Got it."

"Now, pretend there are doorways into those worlds. In Betweens are the spaces between the doors." You nibbled your bottom lip and Wally's attention immediately slipped, the urge to lick into your mouth making him twitch. Sweetly unaware, you back-tracked and tried a different avenue, "Not doors...maybe glass walls?"

"The door thing made sense. I mean, I think I get it. In Betweens are those places that anyone can access, whereas the living world is just for the living and the dead world is just for the dead. Am I close?"

"Yeah, you got it." You praised and Wally had to stifle the desire to puff out his chest and preen. "Well, not anyone can access In Betweens, but if your soul can Travel, that's where you go."

"So, when you project, you're in an In Between." Wally stated, though he was hedging for clarification.

"Exactly."

"And you said Maddie's stuck in an In Between, too, right?"

Wally saw the moment you clocked where he was going with that train of thought.

With a lamenting sigh, you said, "Unfortunately, In Betweens are complex. They're unique to all kinds of things like bloodlines and soul-ties—" Wally opened his mouth to ask, but you got there first, "—incredibly deep bonds you make in life with another person." He closed his mouth and listened as you elaborated. "So, me and my great-aunt enter the same In Between and can see each other. But Maddie..."

"Isn't blood?"

"And she and I weren't close enough to form the type of bond you'd need to Travel the same In Between. Either she'd have had to invite me into hers or I'd have had to invite her into mine. It's extremely intimate. Not something you do with someone you only hang out with in a group." You perked up and finally gave Wally a full, supernova smile. "I actually wrote you some notes."

The implication conjured an image of you scribbling notes for him under light cast from a laptop screen, kicking your feet as you lay on your bed like a schoolgirl. All so that he could understand the twisty, twiddly secrets of the universe...

He swooned, barely holding back a wistful exhale.

And then his brain ticked back a few frames to you on an unmade bed. The collar of the oversized t-shirt Wally hoped you owned bearing one shoulder, and the smooth skin of your legs on display.

He couldn't care less about the state of his deadness now, and what it meant that he couldn't leave the school grounds. Instead, he let a slow, devilish smirk slant across his mouth, emboldened by hormones and how receptive you were as he leaned into your space.

He slid his hand from yours and placed it on your thigh, "Gonna let me copy your homework, baby?"

"Gotta get those grades up before the big game." You played along, "Don't want you kicked off the team."

Without hesitation, Wally struck, halfway out of his seat, hand gripping the armrest behind you to hold himself up. He loomed over you, little thing that you were, squished into your seat and completely caged in by him. He hovered, heard your breath hitch, and watched your gaze go hazy.

"Lucky to have a girl like you on my side, then, huh?" Wally said, voice rough, tightly controlled, closing the distance between your lips in increments.

You reached up, wrapped your arms around his neck, "Damn right, big shot," and dipped in.

A throat cleared somewhere over Wally's shoulder, from behind and moderately above, and drove him back into his seat at Mach speed, his hold on you resituating to a socially acceptable place on your ankle. The interruption was accompanied by that arcing of gravity that emitted from a living body which meant Wally was once more on the outside looking in.

"Okay there, hot shot, time to get moving. Students aren't s'posed to be up here outside'a game time." The maintenance worker said, illicit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

Wally noticed the man wasn't quite looking at you, and, for the first time, he had to wonder what the hell people saw when you and he were together while you were still in your body.

You pulled yourself up as fast as the angle allowed you to without injury, foot still tucked in Wally's lap. As soon as your head peeked above the back of your seat, the maintenance worker clutched a hand to his heart and plucked the cigarette from his lips.

"Jesus, girl, you can't do that to folks." He scolded you, southern accent thickening, "Lookin' like a zombie comin' out the grave or what."

"Sorry," You said and sounded as puzzled as Wally was by the man's overreaction.

"Just hurry up and get goin'." His eyes swept in a strange pattern, away from you then back then away, fixing on a point that would have been Wally's nose if he weren't invisible. "You kids these days thinking you can be wherever you wanna be, huh? Ignoring the rules, like they don't apply to you..."

God, this guy. "Can it, asshole. Give her a minute to get up." Wally snapped, bolstered by the fact that the man couldn't hear him. "Bet you're bent outta shape because all that nicotine makes your dick about as useful as a wet napkin."

He heard you choke on a laugh that you quickly masked under a cough.

The man squinted, lips pursed in aggravation. Surprisingly, he departed with no more than a gruff, "Get gone!" and stuck his half-burned cigarette back into his mouth.

Wally glared after him as the man marched up the stairs toward a ladder open beneath a curtain of cables and metal that spilled from the ceiling. Clearly, the man had been in the middle of fixing something when he'd seen you.

"Fucker." Wally grumbled. He patted your leg, pressed a kiss to your knee before he released you.

"I appreciated the support," You giggled, "Even if it doesn't do much on my side of things, it's nice to know you have my back."

"I've always got you, baby." Wally vowed as he unfolded himself and rose to his feet. He couldn't help tacking on, "Every bit of you," with a wink that made you pink up so prettily.

You wetted your lips, ducked your face into your shoulder; shy after you'd been caught in what might’ve been a very awkward position. "I'm starting to get that."

Wally let you take the lead, enjoyed how you brushed up against him as you shuffled out of the row and onto the stairs. He shot the man one last angry look as he grabbed his jacket and then turned to trail you across the field and out of the stadium.

At the top of the grandstand, feet from the ladder, the man examined his cigarette through a profoundly glum expression.

With a grunt, he dropped it to the ground and crushed it under the thick sole of his work boot, simultaneously pulling the crumpled, two-from-empty pack out of his breast pocket and whipping it into a nearby trashcan.

💀___________________________

PART THIRTEEN - PART FIFTEEN

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[drconstellation]

The Assistant Book Seller

Edit 1 Dec 2023 - added missing information on the "ribbon pattern."

Edit: 3 Dec 2023 - correct information about middle pattern from creator

GABRIEL: Greetings! I'm Jim! It's short for James, but I don't need to keep telling everyone that. I'm an assistant book seller.

I'm sorry. Before I do anything else, I need to apologize for something I need to write further in. I didn't plan to write it, I just kind of bumped into it and, well, I can't ignore it. So...sorry. It's said. Forgive me for what needs to be done.

Although he arrived with nothing but a cardboard box and Rodney the Stunt Fly, Aziraphale made sure Jim was clothed in appropriate raiment while under his protection. We'll forgive him that he took a step back about, oh, fifty years or so to the 1970's, as Jim's overall look is a nod to the famous old sitcom "Open All Hours." So if he looks a little bit out of place, or, a little bit familiar, even, that's why.

While we are used to seeing angels in overcoats, it's Jim's vest that is the particular feature here. But I will take a moment to comment on the overcoat - not just the colour but its lapels. Aziraphale has obviously given him a colour with an earthly connection and one that indicate that he has bought Jim under his protection, but the lapels look quite neutral, with one up and one down. (Muriel is the same in their Inspector uniform, btw) This is the first indication they are between two things at the moment.

Onto the vest.

There is so, so much work and thought put into this vest! It was a one-off commission for the show, and the creator, Sandy Higgins, has said she is not allowed to give away the final design pattern. I have tried to contact her, and I'm waiting for a reply, so in the mean time I thought I would ask my keen knitter of a sister-in-law about one of the patterns I'm not sure about. "Well, that's Fair Isle knitting," she said, but she knew nothing about the individual line pattern I was interested in. Hmm, I kind of know that already, its in the notes that are guiding me for this meta, but hey, why not do a broader search and see what comes up?

So once I got back home I did. "Fair Isle knitting patterns" hmm...Wikipedia page for starters...what on *earth* is that at the bottom of the page...? YOU ARE. FRIKKING. KIDDING ME!!!!!!!

"See also: Gumbys"

oh ffs

I am so sorry that needs must make me mention Monty Python yet again, but here we are. And we must mention them, because this link is just too...unbelievably, deliciously good.

If you aren't familiar with the Monty Python catalogue, and don't recognize the mention of Gumbys, they were a set of characters that dressed and spoke in a certain way but the main points to take away were they wore woolen vests in the Fair Isle knitted style and their catch-phrase was - wait for it - "My brain hurts!"

I think we've heard that somewhere before?

CROWLEY: When you first arrived, you said you were here because they were planning to do 'Something Terrible' to you. So you remembered it then. Remember it now. GABRIEL: It hurts to remember. My head isn't built for that.

Right. Now we've got that out of the way...back to the serious stuff.

The colours used in the vest are not your typical angel colours. There is a base of angelic off-white and there are some bits of purple for his royalty around the shoulder area - sometimes you need to look carefully for it. Otherwise it is dominated by vintage shades of red and green. Well. Who's an agent of change driven by love, then?

The horizontal stripe pattern is partly to remind us of the classic biblical robes with stripes that ran along them, much like the style of Crowley's black and red robe in the Job minisode, but is also part of the traditional Fair Isles pattern work. And each row only has two colours, but up around the shoulder area we do see purple start to sneak in as a third colour.

On to the incorporated symbols! I'm going to go from bottom to top.

On the lowest two we feature Crowley and Aziraphale. We have Crowley's demon satyr tail from the Good Omens logo on the lowest stripe - the double-headed arrow.

The next stripe is Aziraphale, with a variation of the classic OXO pattern ("hugs and kisses.") The X is meant to represent his angel wings, and the O is modified to mimic the "o" with a halo in the Good Omens logo. I've highlighted all three in the image on the right.

The third row up is a Sumerian Star pattern that represents one of the flowers associated with Gabriel, the lily. They are supposed to represent the purity of Mary, mother of Jesus, as he had one in his hand when he visited her during the Annunciation.

The row above that is what I believe to be a Byzantium pattern, and is included to show "an Angel's ability to be timeless."

The next three rows are still under a bit of a question mark as I write this. I plan to come back and edit it in if I find the answer.

The bottom of the three is the Duke of Buccleuch pattern, "to celebrate the long and necessary contribution that the cottage industry of hand knitted items."

The middle one - ? (perhaps you, the reader, know? It looks like a spiralling ribbon if I stand back, but that isn't sparking any connections, either.)

Edit: @noneorother tells me in a reblog (below) that this pattern represents the shoelace from the magic incantation Aziraphale uses "Banana Fish Gorilla Shoelace." So it is ribbon-like! This then points to the Second Coming, as it the shoelace references the end of the book, and the last paragraph of the book references Yeats poem "The Second Coming" as well as the novel 1984. To me it is then also telling us there is a cycle occurring, or a cycle that needs to be renewed. This fits in with some other clues other meta-writers have been picking up.

Edit 2: Turns out none of that was correct - I heard back from the creator herself and it's actually the double-ended satyr tail pattern again! It just seems to make a bit of an illusion of a ribbon or shoelace.

The pattern below is a modified OXO pattern.

The top one looks like two rams horns facing each other. A hollowed out rams horn can be used as a trumpet, and is known as a shofar in Jewish religion. Gabriel was traditionally known to carry a trumpet.

The ancient meander pattern would be recognized by most people, included as another classic timeless pattern found all over the world. For some it symbolizes eternity and endless flow.

The wheels here appear to be Michael's ophanim wheels, that would have eyes around the rims.

The hourglass is to remind us that time is running out. Memento mori - "Remember that you die." It is a major theme in both series.

Right up high, just before we lose the rest of the vest inside the overcoat, we get a glimpse of a large diamond-shaped icon. I wonder if this is another stylized set of angel wings, like we saw in the Job minisode on Aziraphale's golden collar.

To finish off the outfit, he is wearing dark gray trousers with sneakers! I'm sure that's so he could keep sneaking up on Aziraphale in the shop, haha. His shirt seems a little too large for him and the tie is knotted too high and is not settled along his centerline. It's all at odds with his previous neat and sharp appearance as Supreme Archangel Gabriel.

I'd like to say a big thank you to @aduckwithears for helping me with information on the vest and finding the creator's other social media sites. You can see their two posts about it here and here.

[agentlizardofowca]

Perryshmirtz / …in secrecy / I know you love your forbiddeen love trops so 👀👀👀

I mixed two asks! Anon asked for 9. In public and @inators asked for 8. in secrecy. Enjoy~

"Agents," Monogram announced seriously as the last chair in the room was filled by Agent Serpent. "We've discovered the location of the dangerous-machine-with-evil-intent convention." He looked around the room. Perry was joined by four other serious looking agents.

"Oh no, DMWEI-con?" Agent Iggy gasped, and he checked the other grave-faced agents for a reaction. "That's bad news."

"It is indeed," Monogram grumbled in agreement. "And all your nemeses have been spotted on the floor. We need you to infiltrate, dismantle the convention and arrest those evil-doers. By being in the building, we have reason to detain them for now. Evidence of their ill intent should be easy enough to find," Monograms eyed his agents, who all nodded seriously. "Good luck agents." As one, the group rose from their chairs.

The evil convention was held in one of the large rooms in the Googleplex Mall, and the easiest way to infiltrate was through the air duct, which was large enough to hold 5 agents. On the way there, Perry had sneakily grabbed his phone and texted an unknown number: 'Don't let me arrest you.' As the agents parked their unmarked vans he received only a 👍in response.

It was tight in the air vent. Agent P was at the front, guiding the other agents through the dusty tunnel. Behind him was Agent Earwig, followed by Agent Narwal, Iguana, and special Agent Slug in the back.

Noises from the convention floor floated up into the vent, when all of a sudden a raspy, accented voice rose above all other sounds.

"Rodney! This is absurd!" Heinz Doofenshmirtz shouted with enough volume to be heard clearly in the air vent. "These machines are going to kill people, I refuse to take part. I am leaving!"

Rodney wrestled himself out of a gaggle of villains, stomped up to him, crossed his arms and huffed. "You had no complaints before."

"That was before I saw your murder-inator!" Only Perry saw how Heinz glanced at the ceiling. "I have to leave right now!"

"Oh no you don't" Rodney replied with obvious frustration. "I did not spend fifteen minutes helping you lug that big-ass machine in here, for you to just leave!"

"What are you going to do, stop me?" Heinz asked in his most annoying and grating tone, which Perry recognized as him trying to frustrate Rodney even more, but to the other agents it just sounded like Heinz Doofenshmirtz.

"You're here till 5PM, you hear?" Rodney hissed, and he pointed at Doof threateningly. It seems that his attempt to annoy was a success.

"This is Agent Iguana, come in." Iggy mumbled into his earpiece softly. "Come in OWCA." He was trying to keep his voice down, but the stuffy airduct wasn't a great place to speak. "Dr Doofenshmirtz appear is being held at the convention against his will."

Perry could hear that there was a response, but he couldn't quite catch what it was. No matter, now that Heinz had manipulated himself into a hostage situation he was a victim.

Agent P quirked an eyebrow at Iggy, who was still actively listening. He then turned to Perry. "He appears to have a machine on the floor, take him down just in case."

Perry nodded and turned back to the vent, from there he could spy on everybody on the floor. He shot off several hand gestures, informing the other agents of their nemeses' locations, checked if everybody knew what to do, and counted down from three.

When he hit zero, all five agents burst from the vent to go fight their respective enemies. To his own frustration, Perry landed in a very cliché superhero pose. He jumped up as quickly as he could and met Doofenshmirtz's eye.

"Ah, Perry the platypus, as you know I am extremely surprised to see you here." He lied. Luckily the other agents were too distracted to pay Heinz's bad lying much mind.

Agent P adopted a fighting stance, and his nemesis mimicked the pose with some confusion. "You're still going to fight me?! I am innocent!"

Perry barely nodded before he jumped into action. He attempted to swipe his lanky nemesis off his feet, but Doof jumped to the side with a proud "Aha!"

He couldn't allow his colleagues to see him struggle in this fight, so he threw a punch, which landed a little harder than he had meant it to be. As Heinz clutched his shoulder and groaned, Perry jumped up on one of the couches.

The room was fairly large. Across the space were around twelve inators, some so large that they stood on the floor and almost reached the ceiling. He wondered how they'd been moved here. It must've been a hassle.

In the back of the room, where Perry and Heinz were fighting, were a few smaller inators, which were presented on tables. There were some handheld models and a few machines the size of microwaves or kitchen aides. Except they didn't make delicious food, they made evil.

Doofenshmirtz attempted to retaliate and jumped Perry, but from his higher vantage point, Perry could easily chuck his nemesis over his shoulder. He jumped after him to go restrain him.

"Not my hair!" Heinz bit out as he got grabbed. He kicked his legs against the floor to try and get away, but all that happened was that they ended up under a table that held some sort of raygun.

Perry almost bumped his head into the table, but he ducked under at the last moment. He didn't want to rock the table -who knew what would happen if he toppled the gun- so he pressed himself against his nemesis, grabbed his hands and forced them above his head.

Now that Doof was finally restrained, he huffed and puffed and struggled for a moment before deflating. "I thought that would work, are you arresting me?"

Perry couldn't sign because his hands were too busy holding Heinz's down by his wrists. As an answer, he just pulled a vaguely frustrated expression and hoped that he would understand.

"Well shit, it's a good thing my inator is absolutely useless." Heinz said and he attempted to shrug even though he was flat on his back with a heavy man on top of him.

Perry blinked in surprise, and when Heinz saw he smiled smugly. "What? As if I didn't expect Francis to send you guys in. That's a gumball machine." And Heinz nodded at a giant Inator that took up an entire corner of the room.

Perry turned his head to look. It really was an impressively large gumball machine. Agent Serpent was fighting Professor insatiable on top of it without any fear of falling off.

"Do you think they're almost done?" Heinz asked as he awkwardly tried to peek past Perry's bulk. "Or do we pretend to fight some more? Do you think they can see us down here?"

Perry watched his fellow agents chase their enemies around the room, vaguely mortified that they were having this much trouble. Then he turned back to Heinz, who was blinking at him. "Is it handcuff time?" He asked.

It was probably meant to be an innocent question, but Perry's mind conjured visions of Heinz in handcuffs that were not workplace-appropriate, and he felt himself blush red.

"Perry?" Heinz asked, and when his nemesis' attention snapped back to reality he squinted his eyes and smiled wickedly. "Were you thinking what I was thinking?"

Agent P was not in the mood to be bullied. This whole conversation was completely inappropriate! Then again, the other agents really couldn't see more than their legs peeking out from under this table.

"Oh you were thinking what i was thinking!" Heinz said with a deranged giggle that Perry wasn't supposed to find attractive, and yet.

"You're going to have to wait, Perry, I think you are arresting me right now. Unless we are living in a reality where things that happen in a certain type of internet video become a reali-"

Heinz couldn't keep talking because his nemesis had gotten so horrified with the things he was insinuating that he had to put a stop to it. Not because he was disgusted or embarrassed, but because he was picturing it; them being inappropriate under this table, whilst people they both knew were right there, just out of view.

If Heinz ever got a chance to ask, Perry would blame adrenaline, or insist he had gone temporairly insane. But Heinz couldn't ask, because Perry was kissing him.

Instead of clutching thin wrists, Perry moved his hands to intertwine their fingers as lips pressed against each other. Because of surprise, Heinz made one high squeaky tone, followed by a deeper, more appreciative noise. Despite the suddenty of the kiss, he didn't seem to mind, because when Perry's warm tongue pressed against his bottom lip he gladly met him in the middle.

After a moment, Perry pulled away to change the angle and dive back in. Before he did, Heinz mumbled a warm, appreciative "Perry" against his lips, and then were kissing again.

For a moment, Agent P forgot where he was, or what he was doing. The way his name had been spoken echoed through his head, only spurring him on, but then a very differeny voice also rang out.

"Perry?" Agent Slug called from across the room, and Perry sprang away from the kiss with such speed that he crashed his head and shoulders into the table they were hiding under.

He saw a worried expression in Doof's eyes for a moment, before Perry dragged him out from under the table, and his expression turned to surprise.

"Perry?!" A moment later, he was chucked against a wall.

Perry was nervous they'd been spotted all through the rest of the mission. But when all the L.O.V.E.M.I.F.F.I.N. members were loaded into the van, and still nobody had looked at Perry funny, he determined they had gotten away with it.

He went to go close the door of the car and caught Heinz's eyes for just a second. Perry shut the door with so much force that Iggy asked him if he was okay. Perry nodded stoicly. Who knew being winked at could be so upsetting.

On the way back to the office Perry determined that Heinz would definitely be free to go home by the end of the day. Now he just had to figure out an excuse to go visit.

[simp-legend]

Drunk Confessions

Requested: No

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Summary: One of Tony's parties leads you to become very close with a certain silver tongue God

Fic type: Romantic (ig) with a hint of spice at the end

Warnings: None

Words: 758 words

A/N: This is a really terrible oneshot that I've had in my drafts for ages, so apologies. Also I apologise for not being active that much I've been quite busy whilst struggling with mental health.

Proof-Read: No

"But I don't wanna gooo," I told Nat. "Why can't he throw a party some other day when I'm not busy. I need to finish moving in!" I said.

"Well, Tony is kinda throwing this party for you because you are the new avenger," Nat chuckled. 

"Then he should have thrown it two months ago when it was finally official, should I wear this dress, or the blue one?" I asked, holding up two dresses.

"The blue one, anyway, on the bright side, you-know-who will be there," she wriggled her eyebrows.

"Who, Voldemort?" I scoffed, turning away to hide my blush.

"No, Loki," she nudged my elbow. I rolled my eyes but had a smile on my face.

~Time skip~

I walked in excitedly but (tried and failed) to keep a straight face. I made my way to the avengers who were sitting around a table laughing and drinking.

"Y/n! Hello!" Thor yelled when he saw me.

"Hey Thor," I waved. I look at the spot next to him to see Loki eyeing me with a face that shows no emotion. Then, to break the awkwardness, Tony walked in with a box of alcohol.

"So I did a quick run to the bar and brought these so now we can officially PARTAAAAAY!" Tony pumped his fist up. After that, more people started to roll in. I got bored after a while so I went upstairs. I opened the doors to the living room to find Wanda watching TV.

"Hey Wanda," I said slumped next to her on the couch.

"Hello Y/n," she said, not looking away from the TV. She was watching some old black and white show. We sat in silence for a while, watching the show. After an hour I decided to head back downstairs and check on everyone.

While I was heading down the stairs when I bummed into Nat.

"Oh, hey Nat. What's going on?" I noticed she had an annoyed face.

"Stark convinced the boys to drink more and now it's chaos down there. The boys got crazy drunk. Even Bruce and Loki are drinking alot," she sighed.

"Oof. Well imma check it out!" I chuckled.

It was absolute chaos. Clint was singing while swinging from the chandler, Thor was wearing a poptart box as a hat while swinging his hammer at non-existent villains, Tony and Rodney were arguing weather the moon was made out of cheese, Steve and Bucky were having a throwing contest with his shield, which so far had resulted to several broken windows.

"Um, is everything ok?" I asked flustered.

"oH, helloY/n!" Loki slurred, waving franticly at me from his spot on the floor.

"Uh, hi?" I said, worried because when I walked in Loki was wondering aloud how long it would take to chop off all of Thor's hair blindfolded.

"Hey, did anyone tell you that ya look very pretty?"

"Um," I was shocked. "Thanks?"

Loki tried to stand up, but stumbled from all the achohal.

"Oof!" I said, as the god crashed into me, resulting us to fall down.

The next thing I knew, Loki was on top of me, and we were laying on the ground, our faces only centimeters apart.

I coughed nervously, and tried to get up but unLuCkY mE, a stool fell on top of us, so we couldn't get up because our legs were stuck. I was a stuttering mess.

"S-s-sor-ry..." I said, my face feeling like it was on fire.

"No worries, Darling," Loki said coolly. Wait... he didn't seem so drunk anymore...sus.

I felt my heart race faster and faster as I couldn't look away from Loki's face. His eyes were focused on mine, then darted to my lips for a hot second. Then he smashed his lips onto mine!

I laced my arms around his neck as he snaked his hands down to my waist, his tongue roamed my mouth as I lightly tugged on his smooth black hair. I wanted it to last for ever. Sadly, luck was not at my side.

After a couple of seconds, minutes, hours, I honestly do not either, nor or care, we broke apart.

Because Clint yelled, "Get a room!" after the chandelier gave way and crashed to the ground.

Blushing furiously, we managed to out of the stupid stool, and off the floor. 

"Would you like escape these idiotic Midgaurdians and continue somewhere else lady Y/N?" Loki smirked, turning to me.

"Of course" I grinned mischievously.

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[fuck-customers]

My new job is listening to rich people confess that they are slowly poisoning their dog to death, and it’s all because they feel bad that they can’t feed them a different food everyday.

They literally try to argue with me that it’s cruel to make dogs eat the same thing for the rest of their lives when I try to explain that mixing food around so often (especially with seasoned human food) wrecks their gut’s microbiome, it can cause allergic reactions, indigestion, constipation and pancreatitis. They don’t listen to their vets, to the internet, or to us. Then they come back in two weeks saying “this food doesn’t work his pancreatitis got worse” yeah it got worse because you kept feeding him seasoned human food and gave him 10 different kinds of food in the span of two weeks. Then they play stupid and act all “omg so I’m supposed to just feed him this food and nothing else?!?! But that’s sooo cruel dogs should get some variety! My dog gets so happy to eat [insert food that is toxic to dogs] I just feel too bad to stop” ok sis keep killing your fucking dog then, he probably hates you by now anyways.

I shouldn’t even have to include that these are the same type of dog owners who bring their untrained adult poodles and shepherds to the store, the dog is pulling them in every direction so the owner just yanks at the leash and yells at them. Does no one even bother to just do a quick google search on how to care for dogs??

-Pissed Off Dog Lover xoxo

Posted by admin Rodney