#but things happened and it got strained out

[sugoi-writes]

Morning! I have a little silly idea for Alastor x Reader and wanted to share :D

Reader is stressed over some big event that is about to happen in the Hotel (like idk maybe they're throwing a ball or some gala to encourage more sinners to check in) and while she's giving a pep talk to everyone she absentmindedly starts fixing Alastors bowtie/coat/hair and everyone expects him to snap at you (you two were more of rivals than friends) but instead he smiles at you softly and fixes your necklace. You two only realize what you did when Angel "quietly" asks as a joke when did the two of you get married 😅

Sorry this took so long!!! I hope this is doing your prompt a little bit of justice! Please enjoy!!!

No warnings for this one, really! Just some good old fluff and pining (which I DESPERATELY need to work on, HAHA--)

♥️♥️♥️

Everything was hung in place, not a tassel or a drape awry. The decorations and accents, deep reds and lush golds, adorned every surface you could see. It was... gaudy. But it was perfect.

When all was said and done, you clasped your hands together, a triumphant smile on your face. Charlie, being the sweetheart she was, tasked you with orchestrating the grand-reopening ball. She had to admit, it was nice to throw the reigns to someone else for a while. She definitely got some MUCH needed time alone with Vaggie, who was also more than willing to take a backseat.

Your voice cut through the chatter like a knife, silence behalfing the room with your address," Alright... guys, everything looks great. The place looks perfect. Everyone is looking--"

As your eyes flit about the hotel residents, you spy a freshly-apparated Alastor, who was... off. Physically, you mean. You squint for a moment, spying three things: Hair, Bowtie, Handkerchief.

"Sh-Sharp... everyone looks sharp."

Without thinking, you marched right up to the Radio Demon, collective gasps around the room as you touched him. Looks of bewilderment, horror, and amusement surrounded you both. You were preening him, adjusting him... unannounced? With no physical repercussions? How were you still alive?

Both hands shimmied the black bowtie into place," The music is covered, thank you for the recommendations, Alastor--"

"Anytime, dear," he quipped, not flinching in the slightest. His eyes were trained forward, avoiding eye contact as you pat his chest. Charlie's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her skull as you pulled out the handkerchief, refolding and placing it back into Alastor's breast pocket. Another, resolute tap to his chest, and Angel's brain was short circuiting.

"Right-- like I was saying, everything is PERFECT. I need everyone on their BEST behavior when the doors open-- you especially, Angel. Everyone has their roles--"

Angel squinted, pouting as he shifted his weight... His head cocked to the side with a smirk, as if to say 'speak for yourself'! You strained onto your tiptoes, fluffing and adjusting Alastor's fringe, completely oblivious. There was a tinge of hair gel in Alastor's crimson, which surprised you. He had really gone the extra mile... albeit, still a little under perfect. Or maybe, you had just never noticed how much effort he put into his appearance?

"Niffty: keep an eye on the buffet and clean any and all messes. Angel, intel and vibe-checker. We have some big-wigs coming tonight, and I'm sure we could weasel our way into their good graces-- Make sure they're drinking, eating, dancing-- yknow!!! Having a good time!"

Alastor leans his head down for you, allowing easier access to his hair. You silently thank him, your tangent continuing," Charlie, Vaggie: you know the drill. Get them hooked on this place. Give them the razzle-dazzle to get them to stay. Lucifer, sir, you're in charge of the fireworks. I'm sure you have something ENTIRELY too bombastic for this, but-- just try not to scare anyone off tonight, sir???"

Lucifer, though still flabbergasted, gave you a pair of finger guns. This was his way of giving silent acknowledgement.

"Husk, of course: you're on drink detail. The more booze, the looser these guys get. The more likely they'll cave and stay the evening or become a patron--"

You blinked as warm hands were on your collarbone, adjusting your necklace. Though your face burned brightly, you didn't utter a word as Alastor finished his adjustments, giving you a pat on the shoulder. You looked up towards him, a friendly smile shot your way.

No words were exchanged, just smiles. You nod to Alastor, before turning to face the crowd. You weren't expecting to see looks of confusion and shock: everyone looked like deer in headlights. You sigh, chuckling a bit as you crossed your arms," C'mon guys, I know everyone is nervous about reopening to the public today, but we've got this!!! Seriously, everything is absolutely perfect now and--"

"If I can cut in real quick, toots-- are we plannin' a weddin'?" Angel retorts, fanning his hand back and forth between you and the Radio Demon.

"I mean-- not that I'm complainin', but y'gotta warn a guy first. I would've worn somethin' else for such a special day~"

You blink, utterly confused, before it finally clicked. You sputter dramatically, eyes wide and face heated from the implications," I don't-- I don't know what you mean, Angel--"

"Oh honey, we aren't BLIND. Admit it, you're mackin' with Tall, Dark, McNasty. And honestly, I get it. Chase your dreams or whateva. It's kinda cute~"

There were murmurs from the other crew, loosely agreeing to Angel's sentiments.You take a step forward to say something, before a hand clamps onto your shoulder. Your face only grew warmer as Alastor stepped in front of you. His pleasant smile strained, his annoyance further proven by his left, twitching eye.

"Now now, let's not lead the night with accusations and gossip-- though I'm usually a big fan myself~," Alastor mused, his grin widening.

" I'm afraid you all have the wrong idea-- I was just simply making sure everything was perfect. Just as our party host is." Alastor turns to you now, his smile softening," And that's exactly what tonight will be, with you at the helm: perfectly executed."

Angel snorts, leaning over towards Husk as he covers his mouth. A hushed whisper and an eyebrow wiggle are thrown his way," Oh, they're DEFINITELY fuckin'~"

You nearly shrieked as you cover your face with both hands, frustrated," Shut up, shut up, just-- UGH. L-Let's get to our battle stations, guys-- doors open in FIVE MINUTES," you bark. The nervous energy in the hall multiplies before dispersing, as everyone made themselves busy. It was very clear that everyone was trying to ignore the elephant in the room (and failing miserably). You do your best not to smudge your polished appearance as you turn on your heel, making your way towards the bar.

Immediately, you give it a knock, two fingers out. Husker nods, pouring you a double shot of your preferred poison. Swiftly swallowing the elixir of courage, you felt some of the embarrassment melt away. A familiar presence appears beside you, mimicking your knock and drink order. You sigh as Alastor's hand comes into your line of sight, eyes naturally following it as he swirled his drink, before downing it. You couldnt help but focus on the bob of his adam's apple, before you had the decency to look away. Alastor grinned down to you, tilting his head.

"Still troubled by their words, dear?"

You groan," D-Don't call me that, Alastor... Angel's going to feel like he's right," you reply, holding the bridge of your nose. Alastor laughs, leaning against the counter," Oh come now, I'm sure this whole mess will roll off your back by night's end~" Alastor teases, jazz hands accenting his playfuk tone. You groan again, frustrated," UGH, no, if HE'S distracted by that, EVERYONE here will be-- I just-- I don't wanna cause any unnecessary attention. 'For EITHER of us. You have your gambit for tonight, and I have mine... We need this to go WELL, not to be the talk of the town..."

Alastor leans against the counter, back pressing into it as he looks your way. Normally, he would continue to goad you into a precious, pathetic mess, but the look on your face felt too... troubled. You really were overthinking things, his eye catching the way you bit your lip.

The two shots he ingested already softened his edge, his head lolling to the other side," ...'a little advice, then?" You look over at Alastor, surprised by the change of subject.

"Sure. Might as well," you quip, resting your chin on your hand as Husk whisks away your empty glasses.

"If you walk around the room like your hair is on fire, the entire operation goes up in flames... This is commonly seen in management, but works just the same here," Alastor states, pretending to be fascinated with his talons.

"And truly, for tonight, you are the leader, the ringmaster of this event... the others will ask questions, and look to you for guidance. If you walk around like everything is going to fail, then it is destined to. So perk up!" Alastor's hand finds your chin, forcing you to look his way. Your breath catches for a moment, your eyes settling on his face. It was flushed, warm... and a hint of something you can't describe. He was being unreasonably chaste. Is this what Mimzy meant by "sweet as a kitten"?

"I think everything will go as it should, as long as you keep a cool head, dear. And if you can't, well...," Alastor grins as he knocks on the counter, each of you receiving another drink.

"--there's always liquid courage to settle the nerves."

You nod slowly, processing his words. Real, genuine advice... and, some sincerity sprinkled in? Were you really that drunk already??? Deftly, you picked up your glass, almost downing it before Alastor stops you.

" A toast, first."

Alastor grins as he picks up his own glass, clinking it against yours," To your success, my dear."

You move in autopilot as you clink back against his drink," Y-Yeah uhh... to the Hotel's future," you added, the two of swallowing your drinks hastily. Alastor straightens his posture, reaching over to squeeze your arm in reassurance. The radio in the room flicks to a new frequency, changing to a modern, catchy song that you recognized.

" Th-This is--"

"Your favorite, right?" Alastor finishes, his grin widening," Well dear, I am nothing if not accommodating. For tonight, let's have a little fun. Change things up." You nearly jump out of your skin as the front lobby doors begin to open, Alastor's eyes meeting yours.

"I expect to have your first dance. Meet me when you'd like to accept the offer."

And with that, Alastor leaves you, melding into his shadow form to flit to another spot in the room. You blink a few times, still reeling from the entire interaction. You hadn't told Alastor your favorite song. Not even once. And, you never dared to listen to it in front of him, fearing that he would disregard you or even chastise you for your taste.

You feel your heart swelling as you search for Alastor again, mouth falling open in silent protest. You wanted to pester him, ask him how he was able to know something so personal.... However, you are greeted by a sharply dressed demon, all too eager to make your acquaintance.

You allow your hand to be kissed, and pleasantries were exchanged. But ultimately... you felt your eyes constantly searching for Alastor. Maybe Angel was right, you thought... Maybe you did have something going on between the two of you. You felt a blossom that had remained so stubborn finally experience it's long-awaited bloom.

Maybe you did like Alastor. Maybe, just maybe, he liked you too... As the night grew longer, you realized that you just might be content with that.

#hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n #alastor x oc #alastor x you #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel imagine #i tried keeping things pretty GN but hopefully this will suit your tastes!!! #thank you again for your request #im so sorry if this is shit #gdhdhshsjsjsjs

[yoursweetestbunny22]

Toxic!Rafe Cameron x reader

Sinopse: When rafe’s jealousy leads to yn being locked in the Cameron’s wine cellar

Warnings:Toxic Relationships,Psychological Abuse,Confinement/Imprisonment

Intense Jealous, Emotional Manipulation, Control Issues Disturbing Themes

I could hear the lock click behind me, echoing in the dim, musty air of the Cameron's wine cellar. The chill seeped through my thin dress, making my skin prickle as I realized what had just happened. Rafe had locked me in.

"Rafe!" I banged on the heavy wooden door, my voice rising in panic. "This isn't funny! Let me out!"

Silence.

I pressed my ear against the door, straining to catch any sound from the other side. Nothing but the distant hum of the air conditioner. My heart pounded in my chest, the reality of the situation settling in. Rafe had lost it. Again.

"Rafe!" I screamed, my fists pounding harder. "Open the fucking door! This is insane!"

Finally, I heard his footsteps approaching. The door didn't open, but his voice came through, cold and infuriatingly calm.

"Why should I, Y/N?" he asked, the sneer evident in his tone even through the thick wood. "So you can run off to see him again?"

"What are you talking about?, who’s him?" I demanded, my voice cracking with frustration. "I haven't seen anyone! You're making things up in your head!"

“You know, sweetheart… I’m a proactive type of p-p-person, and when we have a problem, we have to resolve it before it gets worse… DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” He shouts

"Rafe... I don't know what's happening. I'm scared. Please let me out..."

"Oh, really?" he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Then explain why you were so cozy with Topper at the party. Whispering, l-laughing. Do you think I'm b-blind?..DO YOU THINK YN??” he banged on the door with force, and I flinched back in fear.

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my anger in check. "Rafe, it wasn't like that. We were just talking. You know how he is, always joking around…plus you know he still loves Sarah” I say

"You expect me to believe that?" he shot back. "I've seen the way that motherfucker looks at you. Like he wants to take you away from me,so don’t worry he don’t even think about my damn sister anymore”

"This is ridiculous," I muttered, feeling tears of frustration prick at my eyes. "Rafe, you can't keep doing this. You can't keep locking me up whenever you get jealous. It's not right."

"I can do whatever I want,"he said “ and y-y-you know why?” his voice hardening. "You're mine, y/n..no one else's. And if I have to lock you up to keep you safe from people like him, then so be it.”

I slumped against the door, my energy draining away. "Rafe, please. I love you, but this... this isn't love. It's control. You need to trust me."

"Trust you?" He laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. ". Trust is for the naive doll, people like you… you’ll say anything to get your way…I trusted Sarah once, and look where that got me. She betrayed me. Everyone betrays me."

"I'm not Sarah," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I would never hurt you like that."

There was a long pause, and for a moment, I thought I had gotten through to him. But then he spoke again, his voice softer, almost pleading.

"Then prove it," he said. "Stay here. Show me that you belong to me and no one else."

"Rafe, this isn't the way," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "You can't lock me up and expect me to be happy. Please, let me out. We can talk about this. We can work through it together."

Another long silence. I held my breath, hoping against hope that he would see reason.

"Fine," he said at last, his voice resigned. "I'll let you out. But remember this, if you ever betray me, if you ever give me a reason to doubt you again, it won't be the cellar next time. It'll be something much worse.”

As the lock clicked open, a rush of relief flooded through me, but it was quickly overshadowed by the intensity of his embrace. He pulled me into him with such force that it felt like my ribs might crack under the pressure.

“You have to understand, doll" he murmured, his voice strained with emotion. "I only do this because I love you. I can't bear the thought of losing you, of someone else taking you away from me. You're mine,and I'll do whatever it takes to protect what's mine."

His words were like a twisted lullaby, laced with possessiveness and control. I wanted to believe him, to believe that his actions stemmed from love, but deep down, I knew it wasn't right.

"I love you too, Rafe," I whispered, my voice trembling with uncertainty. "But locking me up like this... it's not the answer."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine for reassurance. "I know it seems extreme, but it's the only way I can keep you safe, y/n. You have to trust me on this."

I nodded, though doubt still lingered in the back of my mind. His grip on me softened, and he pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, his touch both comforting and suffocating all at once.

“We'll get through this together," he said, his voice a mixture of determination and possessiveness. "I promise, Y/N. I'll never let anything or anyone come between us again."

#toxic!rafe cameron #rafe Cameron x reader #outer banks fanfic #rafe cameron #coquette #dolette #girlblogging #rafe Cameron being insane #dark rafe cameron #lana del ray aka lizzy grant

[justlemmeadoreyou]

4. heat of the kitchen (restaurant owner!harry x chef!reader)

(part 1 here) | (part 2 here) | (part 3 here)

summary: the day of the gala, but something unexpected happens, leaving you a responsibility that could either make or break your career.

words: 5k

warnings: fluff, a hint of angst.

You had just started falling into a restless sleep when your phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand, making you jump awake in surprise. Squinting your blurry eyes at the bright screen, you felt a prickle of worry when you saw the time - 4:17am. This couldn't be good news at this hour. 

Sure enough, it was Harry's number flashing on the caller ID. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you swiped to answer and brought the phone to your ear. "Hello?"

"[Y/N], hey..." Even through the tinny distortion of the phone line, you could hear the grimness and exhaustion in Harry's voice. "Look, I...there's been an emergency with my family back home. My mom is really sick and not doing well."

You sat up straight in bed now, any remaining grogginess from sleep instantly swept away by a crushing wave of dismay. You listened in silence as he explained in brief phrases about needing to get on the next available flight to go back to New York right away. He said he wasn't sure when he'd be able to return to Chicago.

"I just didn't have a chance to let you know about this earlier," Harry's low, raspy voice crackled with regret. "I've already spoken with Thomason to take over running things at the event today, but...I'm so sorry, [Y/N]. The timing of this could not possibly be worse."

"No no, please don't even worry about that right now," you interjected quickly, your mind already whirling with the huge implications of what he was saying. Today was the extremely important Martin gala event - without Harry there to oversee the execution of his highly complicated, avant-garde centrepiece dish, the whole thing could spectacularly fall apart in front of all the big-name food critics and chefs of Chicago.

And yet...none of that professional stuff mattered at all compared to the intensely personal crisis your mentor was going through right now. "Is everything...I mean, is your mom going to be okay?" you asked hesitantly, not wanting to pry too much but deeply concerned.

Harry let out a shaky sigh that made your chest clench with empathy for what he must be feeling. "I don't know yet. They're running some medical tests on her this morning to get more answers, but...it doesn't look good so far based on what they've told me."

There was a heavy pause before he added in a rough, strained voice, "Looks like I've got another big battle ahead of me here."  

Despite the gravity of the situation, you felt a pang of fondness at those terse words that sounded so quintessentially like Harry - tackling this heart-wrenching personal turmoil with the same determination and head-on approach he always brought to challenges in the kitchen.

"I'll be okay," Harry stated in a tone that made it clear he didn't want or expect any sympathy or reassurance from you about it. "Right now, all I need is for you to promise me that the gala event today is going to be a complete success no matter what else is happening. Can you handle being fully in charge of running the whole operation and making sure my vision for the centerpiece dish comes out perfectly?"

He didn't need to go into more detail - you knew full well the enormity of the responsibility he was asking you to take on here. Tremors of nerves joined the waves of sympathy and concern roiling through you at the weight of this task. But you didn't hesitate at all before answering.

"You have my word, Chef," you vowed solemnly. "I'll treat this dish and event with the same intense, laser-focused commitment you've been drilling into me from day one - and I absolutely won't let you down."  

This time, Harry's answering exhale held the faintest trace of pride and...something more you couldn't quite put your finger on. "I know you won't let me down. I'm gonna have to go take care of things now, but I'll call again later to check in on how preparations are going over there. In the meantime, just stay calm, stay focused, and execute everything exactly like we've practiced over and over again these past weeks."

"I will. And Harry--" you hesitated momentarily before plunging ahead. "I really hope...well, just please take care of yourself too, okay? Sending you all my best wishes for your mom to get through this."

There was a beat of surprised silence before he responded in a gruff but sincere voice, "Yeah...thanks, [Y/N]. I appreciate that."

With that, the call clicked off abruptly, leaving you alone amid the predawn stillness with nothing but the immense weight of the trust and responsibility Harry had placed on your shoulders.

This was by far the biggest professional challenge you'd ever faced in your culinary career. Not just having to pull off executing Harry's avant-garde, innovative, wildly complex dish to absolute perfection under the intense scrutiny of the biggest names and players in Chicago's food world - but doing so while your mentor battled a hugely serious personal crisis unfolding all the way across the country in New York. Just the thought of it made your stomach churn with anxious adrenaline and nerves.

Still...despite the daunting nature of this task, you couldn't help but feel a sense of opportunity arising as well. This was an unexpected and unprecedented chance for you to truly prove yourself at the highest possible level, to rise up and show you had the skills and mental toughness to handle the most intense culinary pressure situations. You'd worked too damn hard, invested too many long hours of sweat and failures in kitchens everywhere to let this monumental opportunity slip through your fingers.

A feeling of steely resolve settled over you as you climbed out of bed and began methodically getting ready to start your day. No matter what curveball life had thrown at Harry derailing his own ability to participate, your role and mission remained unchanged - you made a solemn vow to him, and you utterly refused to let him down when he was counting on you most in this dire moment. This gala would go off flawlessly, the vision and game plan he'd meticulously drilled into you executed with precise mastery down to every last detail. Abject failure was simply not an option today.

***

By the time the first pale streaks of dawn began filtering through your windows, you were fully dressed and shoving a high-protein bar into your mouth as fuel while heading out the door to the event venue. Despite the early hour, there was already a palpable buzz and energy of activity when you arrived, crews of staffers and organizers darting around in a highly choreographed frenzy as they put the very final touches and preparations in place.  

You spotted Thomason's towering, intimidating form immediately - the harsh sous chef resembled a military general marshaling the troops, barking out orders and keeping everything flowing in an orderly yet intense manner. Straightening your spine, you crossed over purposefully to greet him directly. Thomason's eyes flicked over you appraisingly before giving a short, sharp nod of acknowledgment. "Good, you're here. Let's get you situated and start running through all your station assignments."

Without any further preamble or wasted words, he turned sharply on his heel and strode off at a brisk pace, clearly expecting you to fall into step directly behind him with no delays. Suppressing a resigned sigh, you did just that, matching his stride as Thomason immediately launched into a rapid-fire rundown and delegation of every single responsibility that would fall under your purview for the entire day.

It was...honestly, a staggering amount of crucial tasks and oversight duties to absorb all at once this early in the morning, especially given the giant extenuating circumstance and crisis situation hanging overhead with Harry's absence. But Thomason pressed on in his typical brusque, no-nonsense manner.

Apparently Harry had already briefed the imposing, burly sous chef on the pertinent details of the personal situation he was dealing with, as evidenced by Thomason's uncharacteristic patience whenever you had to pause to fully digest certain instructions or ask for any clarification on assignments. But the gruff kitchen veteran otherwise made no comforting allowances, simply conveying the huge pile of duties you'd need to stay on top of from morning prep straight through to the evening's high-stakes dinner service.

By the time he finally finished laying out the overwhelming laundry list of tasks you were accountable for, a tenuous sense of control had settled over your earlier panic and worries. You could do this. Logistically speaking, it would be the most daunting and high-pressure culinary challenge you'd ever faced by far - but thanks to all the intense training and preparation Harry had put you through, you genuinely felt as ready as you could possibly be. All that remained now was keeping your head down and executing flawlessly with the same pinpoint focus and work ethic he'd instilled in you through those grueling practice runs.

With a grim nod of determination, you turned and started overseeing your assigned kitchen crew in setting up the intricate series of mise en place stations that would be required for pulling off Harry's avant-garde, wildly complex centerpiece dish. All around you, the buzz of frantic activity swelled as area after area of the massive venue was brought online in final preparation for the rapidly approaching arrival times of guests and participants.  

Though you kept waiting for the spike of nerves and adrenaline to hit, surprisingly, a strange sense of calm numbness had instead descended over you - the kind that often surfaced in the middle of an intense, all-hands-on-deck dinner rush back at the restaurant. In these do-or-die, make-it-or-break-it kinds of situations, there simply was no spare mental bandwidth available for anything beyond the critical task directly in front of you in that very moment. Distracting thoughts and nerves got shunted aside as survival instincts took over.

And just like that, you lost yourself in the soothing, almost meditative rhythm of prep work, falling into that laser-focused state of dicing, slicing, arranging each individual ingredient component with painstaking, meticulous care according to the detailed specifications Harry had drilled into you over and over. At one point, you absently accepted a bottled water from one of your line cooks with a murmured thanks, but otherwise operated on auto-pilot.  

You weren't entirely sure how much time had elapsed before Thomason's gruff bark of "Ten minutes!" roused you from your intense, trance-like focus. All around, your crew instantly kicked into an even higher gear, ferrying the completed mise en place components to the designated plating stations in an efficient flurry of motion. You barely registered Thomason sidling up next to you with an evaluating look on his imposing features.

"You did decent prep work so far, kid," he acknowledged in a tone of voice that was only marginally less dismissive than his usual demeanor. "Now let's see if you can actually plate this bastard of a complicated dish without totally screwing the pooch."

With that uniquely Thomason-style pep talk, he gave your shoulder a clap and then strode off to take his place at the all-important expediting position for the evening's service, leaving you warmed by the backhanded compliment. Coming from the notoriously harsh and miserly-with-praise Thomason, those words were basically the equivalent of an ecstatic rave.

Any boost of confidence was welcome at this point, as the first wave of elite guests began trickling into the dining area right on schedule. You could feel the atmosphere in the room shifting, charging with buzzing energy and anticipation as these influential culinary figures saw the artfully designed space, flipped through the rundown of tonight's prix fixe menu, and speculated about what boundary-pushing creation Harry had surely concocted for his centrepiece auction dish.  

Your own adrenaline kicked into high gear as you took your place at the head plating station, flanked by your hand-picked crew who would assist in the extremely intricate assemble of all the individual components coming together. A hush fell over the kitchen as you exchanged looks with your team, giving a final nod of readiness. 

"First courses..." came the terse callout from the expo line. And with that, you immediately snapped into focus, hands moving with the precision drilled into them through countless practice runs as you began plating the initial courses.

From there, the entire high-stakes evening blurred into a cyclone of intense concentration and rapid-fire execution, broken only by the occasional smattering of polite applause from the dining room as each new course made its debut to apparent delight. But you remained steadfastly disengaged from all of that, shutting it out entirely as you moved with economical grace from one fastidiously assembled plate to the next in a state of total flow.

You were aware on some level of Thomason periodically prowling the line, sharp eyes scrutinizing every last component with the intensity of a decorated drill sergeant. But his presence was almost soothing in a way, a low-key affirmation that you and your crew were hitting every lofty mark thus far.

Finally, after what felt like both a grueling endurance marathon and the naturally seamless completion of a singular, continuous motion...it was time. All the other courses had been executed flawlessly, clearing the way for the pièce de résistance - Harry's avant-garde centerpiece dish that would cap off the evening. You took a deep, steadying breath as the first calls came in from the expo line.

"Fire one centerpiece!"

Your hands moved with the precision of a surgeon, each practiced motion flowing seamlessly into the next as you began assembling the first plate of the showstopper course. Around you, your crew worked in the same laser-focused unison, handling each individual component with utmost care and attention to detail.  

Despite the mounting pressure with every new order fire, that strange sense of calm numbness persisted. There was no mental bandwidth to spare on anything extraneous - your entire world had contracted to these series of sequential tasks laid out before you, each one flowing naturally into the next like a continuous stream.

Plating tweezers arranged the final delicate pour of herb-infused olive oil spheres with the same singular focus as you squeezed the pipette to apply the perfectly calibrated dot of acidic reduction. Not a single movement was wasted, not a component out of place as you slid the finished avant-garde masterpiece across to the expo line for final approval before heading out to the dining room.

"Looked good from here, kid," Thomason's gruff voice sounded in your ear amidst the orchestrated chaos, startling you slightly. You blinked, barely registering the stocky sous chef's towering presence overseeing your shoulder before turning your attention immediately back to the next set of hands firing.

On and on it went in that same relentless yet steady cadence, each nouveau plate a pristine reflection of the focus, intensity, and cumulative skill that had been honed into you over months of Harry's rigorous training. Sweat beaded along your hairline, apron dampening as you moved with increasing speed and efficiency under the mounting pressure of continuous fires.  

You were only vaguely aware of the soft crashing waves of polite applause rolling in from the nearby dining room each time a new creation hit the tables. Your ears were trained to more important sounds - the sharp callouts from expo, the curt exchanges between yourself and your crew attempting to maintain the incredible pace.

At one point, you registered Thomason's heavy tread beside you once more, his grizzled voice pitched low to be heard over the controlled pandemonium. "Pretty damn flawless so far, I'll give you that. But don't let your foot off the gas now, we still got a ways to go yet."

A simple grunt of acknowledgment was all you could spare in response as you plated two more centerpiece dishes in rapid succession, sliding them across for inspection. Thomason made a noise of begrudging approval before turning away, freeing you to tunnel-vision once more.  

Swaying slightly on your feet from the physical toll and intense focus, you blinked away the spotties at the edge of your vision. There was simply no other choice - failure was not an option, not after everything you and Harry had invested into this critical moment. 

How much time had elapsed, you couldn't say. All you knew was the continuous cycle of order fires, the increasingly efficient rhythm of your movements and those of your crew. The end goal of seeing this groundbreaking creation delivered to the last diner with the same polish as the first lone plate.

It was only when the final callout came over the line that reality slowly bled back in around the edges. "Last one, centerpiece! Fire for the panel..."  

The clatter of your toolkit was shockingly loud in the relative stillness as you began assembling that climactic plate with even more painstaking care than before. Every component was a masterstroke, each paso doble between you and your crew unfolding in step.

You barely registered Thomason's presence hovering nearby, posture radiating tension and scrutiny, as you slid the final centerpiece across for his inspection. A short eternity seemed to pass as the steely-eyed veteran examined the plate with unsparing intensity from all angles.  

At last, he gave a single deferential nod before calling out the fire to the dining room. "Chef's centerpiece...walking!"

A rousing swell of applause rolled back from beyond the partition as you straightened up, only now allowing the descending sense of accomplishment to wash over you fully. It was done - Harry's groundbreaking, avant-garde vision had been executed to utter perfection.

The surrounding kitchen area seemed to slowly reanimate as the rest of the corps d'équipe emerged from their own hypnotrance–states, exchanging tired grins and backslaps of congratulations. For his part, Thomason wore an expression that bordered on...approving?You could never tell.

"You pulled it off, kid," he rumbled in that trademark gravelly baritone. The stocky chef's clap on your shoulder managed to convey impressed respect more clearly than any flowery praise. "Flawless service from top to bottom. I'll be sure to pass that along to Chef Patino when I touch base."

Your face must have reflected the gratified shock you felt at the gruff compliment, as Thomason's mouth twisted wryly before adding, "Don't look so damn stunned. You did good work holding it all together out there tonight. Real good work."

With that, he gave your shoulder one final squeeze before turning to address the rest of the crew and applauds rippled through the kitchen area. But you barely heard any of it over the dull roar in your ears - the mixture of bone-deep exhaustion and sheer disbelief at what you'd all just managed to pull off against seemingly insurmountable odds.

Gradually, the bustle of post-service breakdown routines fired up around you. But you remained still in the eye of that storm for several long moments, simply allowing the profound weight of your accomplishment tonight to sink in fully.  

Despite the challenges, the unexpected crises that had threatened to derail everything...your tenacity and the depth of your training had ultimately prevailed. Harry's faith in you had been rewarded with an unmitigated triumph.

The realization brought a surge of fierce pride, tempered only by the hope that your mentor had managed to find some shred of comfort amidst his own turmoil tonight. You knew Harry well enough to be certain he would be dissecting every component, evaluating each nuance of the dish's execution with his trademark intensity even from afar.

And suddenly, you very much needed to hear his voice - to fill him in on all the details, reassure him that you'd kept your word right down to crossing every final T. To...well, to simply share in this significant victory with the man whose driving ambition and belief had made it all possible.

As if summoned by sheer force of will, your phone began buzzing from your back pocket with a familiar caller ID flashing. Stepping aside from the lingering chaos, you swiped to accept the call with your heart lodged squarely in your throat.

"Harry? It's me..."

The voice on the other end sounded tinny and wrung-out, yet still utterly suffused with that unmistakable gravel-rough timbre. "How'd it go, kiddo?"

Despite the bone-weary fatigue dragging at your every muscle, you felt a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth as you took in the sight of your crew unabashedly celebrating their collective win. "See for yourself."

With a few quick taps, you switched the call over to FaceTime, angling the camera to capture the wild scene surrounding you. Raucous cheers and whoops of victory filled the feed as Harry got an eyeful of his triumphant kitchen corps living it up.

For a long moment, he was silent on the other end, drinking in the rowdy scene. Then, his low chuckle finally filtered through, slightly watery but brimming with unmistakable pride.

"That's my crew," Harry rasped in a voice gone thick. "Well done, team. Well done."

You grinned fiercely at the screen, willing him to feel every ounce of your conviction as you responded. "We did you proud, Chef. Start to finish."

And just like that, the shaky exhale he released said everything his gruff words couldn't. For all his outward bravado and grit, your mentor's steadfast belief had been vindicated tonight - and his faith in you rewarded beyond even his own expectations.

For the first time in weeks, that shaky tension seemed to finally loosen its grip on both of you. Though the road ahead might still be fraught, this evening's triumph had forged an unbreakable bond of shared understanding and trust.

The entire grueling process of preparing for and executing the ambitious centerpiece dish had pushed both your skills, stamina and mental toughness to their limits. But instead of fracturing under such tremendous shared pressure, your mentor-mentee dynamic had been distilled down to its essential core - that of two committed culinary artists striving relentlessly towards the same creative vision, and ultimately emerging unified in the wake of that lofty achievement.

In that moment, any unresolved tensions or lingering frissons of attraction between you were rendered almost quaint, overwhelmed by the profound sense of creative synergy and hard-won victory. Those undercurrents would inevitably resurface later once the high had faded. But for now, you could simply bask in the warm glow of knowing you'd risen to every challenge thrown your way and come out on top.

Harry must have sensed the shift in your demeanor, the way your posture had relaxed slightly without sacrificing any of that fierce determination. His gruff chuckle sounded again through the phone's speaker, drawing your attention back to his careworn but glowing expression.  

"Listen, pet..." he began in that trademark rasp, once again hitting you with the nickname that made your heart skip a beat,. "I gotta go take care of some stuff on this end. But we're gonna crack open a couple bottles when I'm back, you and me. We've earned it after pulling off a goddamn miracle like this one."

The very thought of the two of you sharing drinks and cutting loose for once, without the weight of impending culinary obligations hanging overhead, struck you as incredibly appealing after tonight's intensity. A warm smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you gave an emphatic nod.

"You know I'm gonna hold you to that, Chef. I'm thinking top-shelf stuff too, none of that bottom-rung swill."

Harry threw back his head with another peal of laughter. "You got it, you earned it. Gimme a couple days to get things sorted and I'll take you somewhere swanky to celebrate, on me. My way of saying thanks for proving me right about you, Y/n."

Before you could respond, Harry's gaze grew pensive, amusement fading slightly as he searched your expression with uncharacteristic earnestness. "And I mean it, you know. Not just about the drinks, but...well, you really came through in the clutch tonight. I knew you had the skills to pull it off, but seeing you actually do it against those crazy odds? You exceeded every expectation. I couldn't be prouder if you were my own flesh and blood."

You felt your cheeks warming at the uncommon depth of sincerity in his gravelly voice. Though Harry had never been one for emotional vulnerability, in this moment you could see the profound gratitude shining through loud and clear.  

"That really means a lot coming from you, Harry," you managed in a slightly hushed tone, momentarily rendered speechless by the unexpected warmth radiating from him. "You know I'd never want to let you down, especially when you were counting on me most."

The tender moment stretched out in weighted silence, intimate currents flowing back and forth even through the crackle of the video feed. Until eventually, Harry seemed to resurface from that unguarded well of sincerity, giving a slightly blustery clearing of his throat.

"Well anyway, you did the heavy lifting tonight," he rallied in his typical all-business timbre, the hoarse bravado back in full force. "I'll leave you and the crew to enjoy your big victory bash. Just try not to get too out of hand with the partying."

He started to shift away from the camera, clearly preparing to disengage, when his hazel-eyed gaze flicked back to pin you with an unreadable look. A ghost of a smirk played around the edges of his mouth as he seemed to drink you in through the video feed.

"Oh, and one more thing, darlin'..." 

You felt your breath catch at the rich, velvety timbre Harry imbued that endearment with - a departure from the casual, teasing way he usually deployed such pet names. This particular iteration seemed to caress something deeper, more weighted between you.

"I'm real proud of how you rose above and killed it tonight," he murmured in that same honeyed rasp that raised goosebumps along your skin. His gaze raked over you with unmistakable heat and intent. "Showed me that laser-focused mental strength and fortitude I always suspected was in there."

Harry shook his tousled head slowly, lips still curved in that secretive half-smile. "Gotta admit, I clearly underestimated you in the past, darlin'. Won't be making that mistake again."

The suggestive timbre in which he issued that statement was utterly at odds with the mentor-protegee context you'd been operating in mere moments ago. You felt your breath hitch as a warmth bloomed across your cheeks, suddenly hyper-aware that you were still surrounded by your raucous crew celebrating nearby.

Surely you were reading far too much into Harry's words and tone...except his eyes were gleaming with a combination of heat and challenge as they roamed over your features in a way that made you feel stripped bare. As if he knew full well the dizzying, electrifying effect he could have on you - even through a mere video call - and was shamelessly exercising that power.

You opened your mouth to respond, though what you could possibly say to that molten statement you had no idea. Thankfully, Harry seemed to recognize he was quickly veering into the old inappropriate territory and reigned himself in with a rough throat-clearing.

"Anyway, go have fun with the crew and I'll holler at you in a couple days once I get things sorted out on this end," he concluded, all traces of that heated bravado tucked away once more behind his typical gruff exterior. "You've more than earned it, darlin'."

Another searing look accompanied the purring emphasis he gave that endearment before Harry flashed you a stunningly lopsided grin - then the video feed clicked off, leaving you slightly dazed and flustered in its wake.

A long moment passed where you simply stared at the blank screen, cheeks still burning as your mind raced over the cadence of that parting exchange. From the heartfelt gratitude and rare showering of praise...to that inexplicably molten aside loaded with suggestion, it had all left you feeling deliciously unmoored and off-kilter. 

You remained in that uncertain headspace for a while longer, the buzz of your crew's raucous celebration providing a soundtrack as the hours ticked by. Though you made a concerted effort to remain present, to revel in this hard-won moment of glory alongside your teammates, part of your consciousness couldn't help but keep circling back to that searing parting remark from Harry.

You kept thinking about the way he spoke, wondering if there was a hidden meaning behind his words.  Suddenly, your long-suppressed feelings for the charismatic chef surged with volcanic intensity, consuming every rational thought until only one truth remained. 

You decided you were done hiding your desire for Harry– done keeping that ravenous wanting locked away in the name of professionalism.The next time you saw your mentor, you promised yourself you would be completely honest. No more beating around the bush. Only complete, blazing honesty.

You would openly admit the burning attraction you'd felt since first meeting his intense gaze months ago. You would confront the growing tension from all his suggestive comments.

No more hiding behind being professional. You would put everything out in the open, once and for all. Either Harry felt the same fiery passion...or he didn't, and you could finally move on. 

Once and for all.

But the need to finally uncover the truth burned within you, even if it meant risking everything and leaving your heart in ashes - because the constant wondering and uncertainty had become a suffocating torment you could no longer endure. Making that decision lifted a weight off your shoulders momentarily, but you steeled yourself knowing the real challenge still lay ahead, a daunting path that could either lead you to euphoric fulfilment or utter devastation.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[mynameismckenziemae]

All of Me

Part 8

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: Nearly two weeks with no time alone with Jake makes you both a little reckless.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, teasing, femdom, orgasm denial, edging, mentions of masturbation.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Jake leaves shortly after he regains feeling in his limbs and you have to fight the urge to invite him back upstairs when he leaves you on the doorstep with the sweetest kiss.

Between baseball tournaments, a few night hops, finishing up the school year, and a medical emergency at the end of your work day, you don’t get any time alone with Jake in nearly 2 weeks.

Tentative plans are made via text to spend time together while Drew’s at camp and with only a few days left before he leaves, your thoughts keep drifting to Jake and all the fun the two of you are going to get up to.

So it’s hard not to be disappointed when you check your phone shortly before lunch.

Jake: We got ordered for carrier training this morning and have to report back at base by 1400 to ship out by 1500. I just got home to pack now so I’ll miss lunch but I’ll stop in to see you before I leave.

Reese: Okay, I don’t have any scheduled until 1400 today so I should be in my office.

Jake: See you soon.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Hey,” Jake knocks before entering your office.

A glance at the clock shows you’ve only got a few minutes before he has to head across base.

“Hi,” you peek your head into the deserted hallway before pushing the door closed. “Did they say how long you’ll be gone?”

“Should be back on Saturday sometime,” he replies, pulling you towards him the stethoscope hanging around your neck.

“Good,” you sigh in relief; he’s coming back the day Drew leaves so you’ll have most of the weekend together as planned.

“I can’t wait to spend some time with you. Just you,” he says. His expression tells you more than he is.

“I can’t either,” you murmur as you lean in to give him a quick kiss, but his hands tighten on your stethoscope, keeping you there to capture your lips again.

You’re not complaining though. You’ve missed this. You’ve missed him.

He’s already hard; straining against the front of his khakis and you swallow his surprised grunt when you palm him. His hands drop your stethoscope, one weaves into your hair while the other slides over your ass.

“Are you wearing underwear?” He pulls back, voice husky.

“I was,” you smile as you reach into your pocket to pull out the pair you slipped off a few minutes prior to show him, “earlier. Thought I’d send them with you though.”

He groans, cock twitching as he watches you stuff the silky red garment into his front pocket.

Good thing you had put a cute pair on this morning.

“You can touch yourself all you want while you’re gone,” you murmur, leaning forward to brush your lips across his neck, “but no cumming.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, guiding your lips back to his. But you stop him when he’s just a hair’s breadth away.

“What do you say?” You whisper, reveling in the shudder he tries to suppress.

“Yes ma’am,” he rasps.

“Good boy,” you praise, rewarding him with a kiss and more friction from your hand.

“Hey Kernsie, I’m heading-I fucking knew it!” Bradley’s voice is like being doused by a bucket of cold water and you spring apart.

“Jesus Roo!” You gasp, adrenaline coursing through you at being caught but relieved that it was by Bradley. “Ever heard of-“

“Don’t even say it,” Bradley says as he holds up his hand, knowing what’s on the tip of your tongue. “I didn’t think I’d need to knock when you’re at work,” he grimaces as he remembers the last time he didn’t knock and walked in on you and Andy in a much more compromised position. “You’re lucky I was the one who walked in.”

Jake turned away, not wanting Bradley to see the situation in the front of his pants, but nods as you do, realizing how stupid you two had just been.

“You’re right,” you sigh. “Won’t happen again. What’s up?”

“Well I assume you already know I’m heading out for a few days,” he smirks between you and Jake. “I’ll text Drew before we turn in our phones but give him a hug and tell him Uncle Roo says to have fun at camp.”

“I will,” you nod.

“How long have you guys been together? Does Drew know?” Bradley asks, folding his arms like he’s a dad about to give a lecture.

“We’re just friends,” Jake says, turning around with his hands over his groin.

You nod when Bradley looks to you for confirmation, refusing to let your face show how much it hurts to hear Jake say it.

It’s what you wanted.

Right?

“Friends that fuck,” Bradley says, again looking between you two.

“Yup,” you reply, not giving him anything else.

“Okay,” he shrugs and straightens up. “I’ll kick both your asses if you hurt each other.”

“Like you could,” you laugh, the tension breaking. “Remember the last time we got into a scuffle?”

“Never tickle her feet,” he tells Jake seriously. “Ever.”

Jake laughs. “Noted.”

“We better get going though,” Bradley says, checking his watch. “See ya, Kernsie.”

“Bye, be safe,” you tell him and turn to Jake when he walks out, leaving the door open behind him. “You be safe too.”

“I will,” he says, brushing his hand over yours.

“Don’t forget get what I said earlier,” you murmur.

Heat flashes in his eyes. “I won’t.”

“Good. See you Saturday,” you press a kiss to his cheek and check out his butt as he catches up to Bradley.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Just friends, eh?” Bradley asks when Jake falls in stride.

“Her choice, not mine,” Jake sighs.

“No way,” Bradley replies sarcastically with an eye roll. “Let me guess. She’s not looking for a relationship? Doesn’t have time?”

Jake nods.

“Typical Reese,” it’s Bradley’s turn to sigh. “She likes you though. More than just a friend.”

“What makes you think that?” Jake asks.

“I’ve known Reese for years; seen her at her highest highs and lowest lows. This has been going on for a while; like around the time she got back from her deployment?” Bradley asks, knowing the answer before Jake nods. “She’s been different; teasing me again, laughing more, getting lost in her thoughts less. I’ve even seen glimpses of the light in her eyes that went out when Andy died.”

Jake just nods again, not wanting Bradley to hear he’s getting choked up.

“I wondered if something was going on by the way you two were talking at Penny’s, and then she lit up when she saw you at Drew’s baseball game. Walking in on you two today confirmed it,” Bradley laughs. “Just be patient with her. She hasn’t dated since Andy and it scares her; she’s so protective over Drew and she doesn’t want to lose the relationship she has with Andy’s parents, even though they’ve both encouraged her to date again.”

“I will,” Jake says, clearing his throat. “I’m crazy about her; Drew too.”

“I can tell and you’d be good to them. Just be a little more careful at work from now on,” Bradley laughs at the way Jake flushes as they enter the briefing room.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Later that afternoon, your phone buzzes with a text. But instead of Jake as you expected, it’s from Bradley.

Rooster: When are you going to put him out of his misery?

Reese: ?

Rooster: Jake. You like him.

Reese: Why wouldn’t I like him? He’s hot and good in bed.

Rooster: Have you forgotten how long I’ve known you? That I was there when you fell in love with Andy? You like him. More than just a friend.

Your heart pounds as you read his texts.

Reese: Is it that obvious?

Rooster: To me it is. Jake didn’t seem so sure when I told him.

Reese: You didn’t.

Rooster: Are we in middle school again? Too embarrassed to tell your crush you like him?

Reese: Oh fuck you 🖕🏻this is different and you know it.

Rooster: It is different. I know you’re scared and I get why. But you’re the only one standing in the way, Kernsie. Tina and Ron have given their blessing and Jake’s not going to interfere with that relationship. Drew adores him.

Reese: But what if it doesn’t work? What if he leaves? Then I’ve got to deal with my own broken heart and Drew’s.

Rooster: And what if it does work? Are you really going to deprive yourself and Drew of much-deserved happiness? Just because you’re scared?

Rooster: Quit being a pussy.

You laugh through the tears that have begun to fall.

Reese: Do you think Andy would approve?

Rooster: I know he would. He just wanted you to be happy and this is the happiest I’ve seen you since he’s been gone.

Reese: Okay.

Rooster: So?

Reese: I’ll think about it.

Your mind is already made up, but Rooster doesn’t need to know that.

Rooster: 🙄 You’re killing me.

Reese: I know ☺️

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Jake reaches out right as you’re getting into bed.

Jake: Hey, still awake?

Reese: Yes, getting into bed.

Jake: Wish I was there.

Reese: I wish you were too. There is so much I want to do with you.

Jake: Fuck. I’m hard. Again. I have been most of the day.

Jake: Wish I could call but I’m bunking with Javy. I took a video earlier though, and wanted to show you how good it can be.

Reese: Can I see?

The video comes through moments later and what you see has arousal quickly pooling between your thighs.

Jake’s standing shirtless in front of the mirror in the small bathroom, boxers pushed down his thighs. Your silky underwear is in his hand; the hand he’s using to jerk himself. He’s flushed from his chest up, his eyes closed and expression a mix of pleasure and pain. It’s quiet but you can hear the desperate ‘uhs’ leaving him with each stroke.

His pace quickens and his abs begin to tense as he grows close. But suddenly he stops, brow furrowed as he grips the base of his cock tightly before he passes the point of no return with a strangled groan.

You reach into your bedside drawer as you type your reply.

Reese: Wow.

Reese: That was so fucking hot.

Reese: I’m pulling my vibrator out right now.

Jake: Oh God.

Jake: They just called lights out.

Jake: Fuck, I gotta go.

Reese: It’s okay. I’ll be thinking of you.

Jake: I’ll be thinking about you too. Night.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You fall asleep with a smile 45 minutes later, after sending him a video of your own.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The next 3 days crawl with no word from Jake.

Knowing that it’s training keeps you from worrying, but it doesn’t make the time go any faster. But good news comes via text Friday night as you help Drew finish packing

Jake: We’ll be stateside in a little over an hour.

Jake: Holy shit, your video just came through.

Jake: Reese. Oh my God.

Reese: 😘

Reese: Come over?

Jake: I’ll be there as soon as I can.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

A/N: I freaking hate this chapter. I feel like it didn’t flow, and I’m not a fan of the ending but I couldn’t find a good stopping point. Hopefully you like it better than I do.

Anyway, Bradley now knows…well he already knew but his suspicions were confirmed. 🤭

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs!

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[quitealotofsodapop]

So in Post Jttw... what if it was Macaque who got possessed by LBD? The consequences of Macaque's actions, so to speak, being that when the Samhadi Fire goes wrong (as it's bound to with the Mayor), Macaque tries one last desperate ploy to protect bis family by doing the exact same thing Wukong had done in canon. I also imagine Wukong might not have known about Mei's Ring of Samhadi because, well, presumably, the entirety of heaven knew of his condition when the ritual took place... so instead of Wukong being there, Macaque had taken his place because no way in hell was Nez Ha letting his pregnant brother (altho he wouldn't have admitted it at such a time) near such a dangerous ritual. Macaque was the one who slipped up, he was distracted by the distant sound of Wukong collapsing from the strain of his egg, the Egg was reacting to the primordial energy even far enough away to be out of range!

And Wukong still ends up having to fight Macaque, because if Macaque is Wukong's equal on battle than no way could Nez Ha fight against him and win and Wikong would be the only one capable of fighting Macaque. He only pauses long enough to return to FFM for his armor, not wanting to risk the baby. Luckily, he isn't heavily pregnant, but it's still noticeable enough and late enough that some caution is necessary. Nobody likes this at all, but MK gets his stubbornness from somewhere, and it certainly isn't his dad.

Ohohohoho!

Flip the script!

Macaque feeling like he's failed Wukong and his cubs so much that he ends up being the one to try and confront LBD directly when Mei's Ring of Samadhi is activated.

Macaque could not protect Ao Lie all those centuries ago because he was distracted by his mate's pained cries - the Egg sensing a terrible power, still tried to absorb it despite being some distance away. Part of this "screw-up" is why Macaque feels that he needs to disappear and find a way to destroy LBD for good; he feels that Wukong is safer when Macaque isn't there to "ruin" things.

And of course Macaque refuses to harm the little girl LBD has hostage as her host.

The Lady Bone Demon takes her champion.

Nezha and the Eclipse Twins end up being the ones to capture and interrogate the Mayor. The Mayor gets a solid punch to the face from MK himself, too frustrated and angry to hold himself back. The thrall laughs manically as the heroes call up the Underworld to collect him.

Wukong and Macaque are forced to fight each other head-on for the first time in centuries. A terrifying reminder of how they fought before Macaque realised that his mate was carrying an Egg.

Wukong manages to break Macaque's possession with one simple action - placing his mate's hand on his stomach. The six ears of the shadow monkey twitching as it focuses on heartbeats within. Almost how it happened back during the Journey.

The blue glow in Macaque's eyes quickly fade, his face blooming into a smile that falls into a guilt frown - how could he have hurt his mate this way?! After all he did to protect him and their cubs! The married monkeys hug and smooch as they make up entirely.

The Lady Bone Demon is left confused and de-powered enough for the rest of the family/troupe to get the drop on her.

#post jttw stone egged au #jttw stone egged au #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #sun wukong #shadowpeach #pregnancy mention tw #lmk lady bone demon #lmk lbd #lmk aus #lego monkie kid #lmk

[faghubby]

Not Knocking changes my life

I opened the door to my bosses office. I had thought he had already left for the day and wanted to leave the incedent report for him to look over. I dropped it when I saw him. His pants around his ankles as he jerked off. I froze for a moment his cock was so big. He didn't stop instead he spun his chair a bit so I had an even better view.

"So sorry Mr Green" I stuttered he was still slowly stroking himself. I had never seen another man jerk off before.

"Paul check out this one" he said moving his computer screen. I was even more stunned when I saw what he was jerking off too. A slender small femme boi. I tried to leave.

"What Paul I know this is what you watch" He said. I froze.

"That virus we got last week" he added as if telling me how he knew.

"Paul are you wearing panties now?" He asked.

"No, of course not" I stuttered I wasn't sure I could get any more uncomfortable then I was now. He stood kicking off his pants as he stepped and grabbed my arm.

"Prove it" he said. He was so close I could of touched his cock. I let him turn me. He started to unbutton my shirt. I panicked and closed the door.

"Mr Green you're married" I said it was stupid but only thing I could think of. He removed my shirt. Standing very close now. He looked down into my eyes. He was at least 6 inches taller then my 5'5" slender frame.Mr green was old enough to be my father. I was 22 year old loser. And this successful handsom older man wanted me. unbuckled my belt I couldn't move. As he unzipped my pants and let them fall around my ankles.

"You little liar" Mr Green smiled when he saw my satin yellow panties. He cupped my bulge. My 4 inch penis straining against the flimsy material. His hands wrapped around and gropped my ass with both hands.

"Mr Green" I stuttered

"You should probably call me John with what is about to happen" John told me. John pulled his shirt off and led me back to his chair. He sat down and pulled me to his lap.

"Sit on Daddy's lap and watch this with me" John told me. He continued to rub me thru my panties. I stroked his cock as we watched porn on the computer.

"Do you suck cock baby?" He asked.

"I never" I mumbled

"I got myself a little virgin sissy" he laughed. I stroked him faster as his breath sounds increased.

"Look how she takes his big cock in her ass" John said he rubbed me thru the panties. I came. A moment later I made him cum. My hand coated with his seed. There was so much I thought. I never came that much.

"Have you ever tasted it?" John asked scooping up a glob of his cum and bringing it to my lips. I shook my head but opened my mouth and tasted his cum. The salty taste and texture was odd. But Iooked them in the eye for the first time and licked my hand. He was still rock hard. I was surprised.

"Why don't you sit on it" he suggested.

"It's so big and" I stuttered.

"We don't even have to take off your pretty panties" he smiled. And moved me his cock rubbed against my ass. I started to gyrate on his lap.

"I am going to teach you everything" John told me. He rubbed and pinched my nipples.

"Do you have a girlie name?" John asked. I just shook my head no. He pulled my long hair out of the pony tail I always kept it in.

I got hard again as I did I doubled my efforts pleasing him. I spun around on his lap. I don't know why but I leaned in and kissed him my tounge danced in his mouth. This made him cum all over my ass. He stood lifting me with him. He set me down and pulled my panties down bending me over his desk He used his cum as lube he worked his fingers in my ass. I cried out loud as he did. As his fingers probed my ass. He stroked my dick just a few times making me cum on his desk.

"I love you to except that I am going to have you" John told me. I nodded. He watched as I got dressed and left.

The next day I got called to HR. At first I thought it was over the forklift accident. But when I got called into a private office by Gina. Gina was an older woman of about 60. I thought of last night.

"Paul, sit down. You are not in trouble. Mr Green just wanted to show his appreciation for your professionalism in reporting the incident. She handed me an envelope. I opened it and it was a pass to a salon. I must of looked confused.

"Paul, John is discreet and on occasions chooses people to achieve their potential. I am aware of somethings, not details. But I help Mr Green at times. And if you don't want to continue or want to even file a complaint I will help you with that. I also am someone you can contact I'd there is a problem." Gina told me she handed me a new cell phone. "Both mine and Mr Green numbers are in the phone. It is the only number you are to use to reach Mr Green." Gina was very calm about all of this. She stopped and looked me straight in the eye.

"John won't want half way, that coupon you hold is for a full body wax and mani pedi." Gina warned me. I nodded as to say I understood.

"Okay, that appointment is in an hour" Gina smiled. It was 9 am I had 6 hours left on my shift.

"It's okay go" Gina assured me. I left and drove across town to a very upscale salon. I sat in the car for ten minutes trying to build the courage to go inside. Having to pee I went in to use the bathroom. As soon as I walked in I was greeted by a very good looking woman in her 50s

"You must be Paul" she said greeting me. I was stunned.

"We are alone except my assistant. This is just between us" she said making me feel at ease. She showed me to a locker room I stripped and put on a pink robe. Kelly the salon owner explained everything and answered every question with care. Her assistant Mary another woman in her 50s. They made chit chat. As they scubbed, waxed, plucked my body. It took forever but there were breaks where I soaked in a hot bath. They didn't stop until every hair below my chin was gone. They also did my nails. My toes where painted a hot pink my fingers a clear polish. They weren't done next the treated my hair adding highlights and some volume to my hair cut and styled it. Mary showed me how to style it to look more femine. She then smiled alittle.

"Trust me?" Mary asked. I nodded and she shapped my eyebrows. Not alot but they where thinner. I got a text with an address. And time from John.

I arrived to find a hotel I got another text room 1204. How did he know I was here. I went up to the room . John answered the door wearing a fluffy robe.

"Those are for you?" He said. I saw several presents. I was already amazed at how generous he had been. I didn't even know if I could do what I knew he wanted. I had never been with anyone. Not even a woman. John sat on the bed. He watched me as I walked across the room. His eyes never leaving me. I just approached him I stood in front off him for a moment. Then sank to my knees.

"I never, not sure how, and you're so big" I said with a certain amount of fear. John said nothing just spread his leg a bit further. I opened his robe. His cock was still impressive even soft I thought. As I reach ed and stroked him. I bought my head down and took just the head in my mouth. His hands gently played with my hair. As I licked and sucked his cock. Making it grow.

"Cup the balls, gently caress them. Even lick and suck them" John told me. "That's nice with the tounge wrap it around like that. Don't take to much. You will get better at it slowly" he told me. "You can use your hand some. No such thing as to much salivia" he kept encouraging me. My jaw started to hurt. But I kept going it took more thspen a half hour to get him close. He stood pushing me back. As he unleash a tidal wave of cum into my mouth and all over my face. It dripped down my chest. He helped me to my feet and grabbed a towel. He feed me big globs of his cum but basicly cleaned me. Then led me to where he had left the gifts. The first box was beautiful white lingerie like a bride would wear. A corset that attached to stockings, and a little thong.

"I love to see you in this" he told me. I picked up the box blushing and went to the bathroom. I needed his help with the corset but managed the rest. He ran his hands all over my body when I came out.

"You look so lovely" he told me. Kissing me. I melted in his arms. He then handed me the next present. I opened it to find ha jeweled butt plug. He took it from me and lubed it up. I bent over he pulled my thong to the side and slowly worked it in. It wasn't that big but felt huge as he set I'm place. I was so aroused I would of let him do anything at this point. But he sat me down next to him and opened a small box. It had a gold necklace. With "Paulie" in it he didn't ask just put it on my neck.

"You will need alot of training before I can fuck you" he told me. He pushed on the plug. "Would you like to start?" I just nodded. He grabbed a bag and set it on the table. He positioned me on the bed my face buried in a pillow and my ass high in the air. He removed the plug and replaced it with something longer. After about ten minutes he used another toy thicker. Then another. And another.

"That's enough for today" John told me.

"Please daddy, try I can take it please let me feel you inside me" I pleaded. He got behind me and applied even more lube. I felt the huge head of his cock pushing against me. Then my ass suddenly opened and engulfed the head of his cock. I screamed as it did. Daddy didn't move just held me still. The pain subsided sum. I was in pain. But I wanted him, I wanted to plase him. So I pushed back. Letting more of his massive cock rip my virgin asshole open. Tears flowed down my face now.

"That's enough" Daddy smacked my ass. And pulled out. I crawled into a fetal position. Daddy came and lifted my head and set it on her lap. He ran his hands thru my hair.

"Shhh, it's okay you did well" he told me. Then he reached down and pushed a plug in my ass.

"I never want to see you not wearing this" he said running his hand across my necklace. "And if you aren't wearing panties you better be Commando." He told me. I met him once a week at the hotel. At work though I couldn't even hide the special attention he gave me. It was obvious to all my co workers and I was teased about it. They didn't know exactly who was throwing me favoritism. But at least once a week I found myself in his office (usually after hours) or in his car. He took pleasure not only in teaching me to be his slut. But pushing me to be more and more femine.

Once a month I had a spa appointment, where I learned skin care, but also make up tutorials. At first he had me get my ears pieced. He loved buying me jewelry and perfume. I could now take half his cock in my ass. But still not been able to take all 10 inches. Orally was worse but I was beginning to get over my gag refex.

Then one night he calls drunk tells me he is outside my appartment. I was in bed I get up and throw on some clothes and let him in. He is forceful for the first time is normal gentle patience gone. He rips my clothes off annoyed at my male clothes. Then bends me over my table. My ass is plugged. He pulls it out and drives his cock in. Not stopping this time not working about me he FUCKS me. Driving all 10 inches of his two inch thick cock into my ass. I can do nothing but bite my lip as he pounds away. I cum on the table after only a minute he doesn't even notice. Smaking my ass as he uses me. I almost pass out by the time he fills my ass with his sperm. He pulls out and leaves. Barely saying a word. I grab my shirt and wrap it around myself.

As I arrive at work the next morning I am met in the parking lot by miss Gina. She quickly ushers me to her office.

"I am guessing things changed last night" She smiled. "John has asked me to have you read this and answer any questions you may have. As I read what looked like a contract. Gina made the comment.

"You know you are a year younger then his daughter?" I blushed I had not even thought about it.

I was confused by the language of the document I was reading.

"Basically it says you agree to be his. You will not be permitted to have any relations with anyone else. You will wear what he asks you too. Do what he demands. In exchange he will set you up in a condo, with an allowance." Gina said. She stopped looked at me. "You will be his sex slave for at least the next 5 years" she stated. "He may have you alter your body permanently" she added.

I nodded that I understood. I went to see him before I signed. He locked his door and dropped his pants he pushed me to the floor.

"Take it all" he commanded as he shoved his cock in my mouth. I had never took more them half. But now he forced it down my throat. Soon he was fucking my throat as I tried to relax as tears flowed down my face. His balls slapped against my chin and I felt like I had won the world series. He continued to fuck my throat till he came straight into my stomach. He pulled out and helped me up.

"You're fired" he said. Handing me a tissue to wipe my face. "Gina has the keys to your new place. No need for any of your old things unless I gave them to you. And some personal things" John told me. I didn't even tell him I hadn't signed. I went back to Gina signed it and was driven back to my place where I was given a box to pack up a few things from my old life. Before bought to a gorgeous two bedroom condo. The place was furnished and closets full of clothes. I was left alone the closets where almost completely women clothes. I had recover worn a dress but I tried them on.

John came in around 7pm. He had a key. He walked straight up to me and pushed me over a table. Flipped the dress up and tore my panties off.

"You drive me crazy" he told me his cock sliding across my ass. He smacked my ass. And let me go.

"You are to be fitted with a chastity cage" he told me. I can't have you flopping all over. As he said it there was a knock at the door. He opened it and two men entered. They sat me down pulled up my dress and took measurements. First of me hard then one of them put some kind of gel on my penis. It got soft immediately. They took more measurements then locked me in a steel cage. And gave the keys to John. He thanked them and they left.

"You are a woman now, I will not have you dressing or acting in any other way" John informed me.

"Lily (his wife) knows all about you. She even has keys to this place. You will treat her with respect if she chooses to meet you" he told me. He then picked me up and carried me to the bedroom. He tossed me on the bed and ripped the dress off of me. He was gentle he was rough and corse. Biting and cursing he play raped me. Then pulled out and shoved his cock down my throat. I was so turned on my penis hurt unable to grow. As I moaned even cried as he used me.

"This is what you are for" he told me.

"Yes, thank you Daddy" I moaned.

I learned Lily allowed me because I did everything she had no interest in doing and Daddy needed. Daddy even took me on trips with him on occasion. He transformed me. I had not only my ears pierced several times but also my nose and nipples. I had c cup implants he didn't want them big with my small frame. My clit was locked away in a custom made cage that was so small it compressed it even when soft. He even had me get a tattoo that said Daddy's toy on my ass. Unless I was naked no one would ever suspect I was really male.

I knew my place, if Daddy had a stressful day. I was going to feel it. It wasn't even beyond him to tie me up of spank me. I was his to do as he pleased.

Till one day Lily rang the bell. I invited her in. I never went out without Daddy or at least Gus his driver. I didn't have a car. And really no money everything was paid for.

"Paulina, I have a proposition for you." LILY said. "A few months ago you met a man named Mohammed" she continued I remember.

"Mohammed has asked for you" Lily told me. "John likes the conquest but he has you properly as far as he is willing to take you. He will soon replace you. But Mohammed" Lily smiled. I was confused.

"If John throws you out you have nothing" Lily pointed out.

"John is aware I am here. I propose you meet with Mohammed" Lily continued. I had said almost nothing. Lily got up.

"A car will arrive tonight at 6" she told me. And left. I didn't know what to do but fussed and panicked about meeting this man tonight. Was picked up by a driver and driven to a hotel. In the presidential suite I met Mohammed. He was a good looking man. Taller then I remembered. His black bald head shimmered in the light.

Without a word he pointed to the floor at his feet I dropped. He unzipped his pants, I reached out and helped him. I pulled out his lovely black cock. I had only ever touched John's. He wouldn't like me touching Mohammed's. But I couldn't resist and sucked his lovely cock. It wasn't as thick as John's but just as long. Mohammed stopped me before I finished.

"I am told you like disapline" He says.

"I understand my place and need to be spanked" I told him.

"What about more then spanked. Have you ever been whipped?" He asked his hand cupping my face. I swallowed hard

"No sir" I replied.

"I am going to" he told me he pulled my hair. As I stood. He had me strip. Naked. He didn't care about my pretty lingerie. He tied my hands above my head. And laid me on the bed. Where he tied that to the frame then my feet spread apart where tied as well. He used a belt. Across my ass. Then let it lay there. Slowly moving it then again. And again. It was slow, it made me jump and cry everytime. But also strangely erotic. I never went back to the condo.

Sir. Gave me a dozen lashes that day. Before he fucked my ass pulling out to cum all over my welted ass. I belonged to him after that.

Mohammed was different although much more strict he was there everyday. There was no second like. I traveled with him. And practically every night we slept in the same bed.

He was Mohammed in public but always sir when we where alone. Now 26 years old. I am pain slut to a 58 year old. He doesn't even have the keys to my cage. He says if we ever need it off he will just have me castrated.

I want to marry this man, but he says he cant. He is married to a woman he hasn't seen in 20 years.

[ask-modern-patrochilles]

wanna tell us more about what happend with your ex-husband? if you want to...im sorry if the question is too personal

Achilles: It’s alright, I’m much better at talking about the whole thing now but it’s kind of a long story…

Achilles: Our relationship became very strained after we got married, he was so controlling and we were constantly arguing with each other over everything. He cheated on me a lot during that time, but he would always say something like, ‘Well, it’s your fault, you’re always busy with your band what am I supposed to do?’. Now I see how fucked up it was but at the time, I still loved him and I always made excuses for him. When I was 19, I found out that I was pregnant and it made everything so much more complicated but I was happy— he was happy, until the miscarriage. The whole experience was… traumatic, and he made me feel even worse for it, blaming me for what happened and for a long time I believed him.

Achilles: The last straw came about a year later, he brought up the miscarriage as a jab at me while we were bickering and that turned into a huge argument. I couldn’t take it anymore so I packed a bag and left. Our divorce went through a few months later, and even though it was difficult for me, I’m glad it ended because otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten a chance to experience a genuine relationship like the one I have with Patroclus.

#asks #achilles #tw miscarriage #[I’ll be getting more into this once I start writing the second part of this series]

[loveliestdagger]

debrief; a bonus chapter (bucky barnes x f!reader)

read 'ask' first | go back to the masterlist | join the taglist

summary: reader meets up with Nat for a quick debrief, before the mission's next fase

word count: 656

warnings: denial, concerning amounts of stupidity, Natasha Romanoff knows better

a/n: sooo, this is a bonus chapter. i was trying to draft the next chapter and this happened. it doesn't go with the next chapter so I decided to make it it's own thing. happy reading <3

"How are you doing?" Natasha asks as our drinks are served, pleasant small-talk shielding sensitive information from reaching prying ears. The bartender is young and bored, definitely interested in figuring out the two newcomers.

The friendly concern in her voice is what has me shifting in my seat, my eyes narrowing in her direction. "Barnes told me what happened." she explains.

Of course he would. Missions like this involve a lot of paperwork, even if it’s not us writing the reports. And, as our leading officer, we’re compelled to disclose to Nat everything of relevance and anything that might jeopardize the mission. That, obviously, includes injuries.

"It gets worse before it gets better, right?" I offer with a weak smile. My thigh throbs at the implicit mention, still fresh. The pain of walking here equaled the one of being ripped apart, rivulets of sweat down my back with the strain. I must pull a face, because Nat tilts her head to the side mimicking it perfectly. A psychological tactic used to get targets to open up – mirroring body language to give them a false sense of security and connection. I’ve used it myself multiple times.

"I didn't sleep much." I confess, caressing the bandages. "Which means Barnes didn’t sleep much either."

"Uh, you really got him in a frenzy." she laughs. I chew on the inside of my cheek, watching her intently. "I don’t think we’ve ever debriefed so fast."

The events of the night before replay in my mind. I feel embarrassed for needing his help, for keeping him up all night. I feel embarrassed of the way I can’t keep myself from remembering the way he touched my face, his hand on my thigh, how he called me baby.

"He's incredibly loyal." I voice a variation of what plagues my mind, downing most of my whisky. It's bitter and I make a face as it burns its way down. It does nothing to lighten my load but I welcome the warmth that settles on my throat. 

She smiles and takes a sip from her own glass. The pub is dark and slimy, in a place so remote the only ones who know about it are the employees and the people who saw it being built, decades ago. String lights hang loosely above us, making the room feel more romantic than it is. 

"Are you surprised?" 

"Not…really." I hesitate, trying to make sense of what I want to say. Natasha looks at me expectantly, an eyebrow lifted. "I did think it was reserved to people he cares about."

Everyone knows about his relationship with Steve Rogers, how his loyalty and love for him was what ultimately broke him free. And I have personally witnessed how ferocious he can be about Nat, despite their long and twisted history. Even about Sam, who he publicly despises

"It is." She states, looking at me like I’ve missed something. We’re partners, working alone on an assignment that could last a week or a month. With no other support or contact except for our daily briefings with Nat, I would agree it’s in our best interest to keep eachother alive. He should care about me to some degree. It was nothing, it meant nothing.

But I don't say any of it, afraid to add more fuel to her delusion.

"So…what do you have for me?" I change the subject and she lets me, sliding a dark folder my way.

"Read up." She advises, before getting up. "Say hello to James for me."

I do. He’s waiting for me at the foot of the stairs, hands in his pockets. Our bags are already packed and in the SUV. He watches me wiggle myself into the car and I pretend I don’t see his pained expression at my own grimaces or the way his hand hovers inches away from me until I’m all the way inside the car. And then, we drive.

taglist: @thetorturedbuckydepartment @the-ayo-lit; @lukepadawan; @isnow-0r-never

read chapter 2

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #angela writes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfiction #winter soldier #reader insert

[electrikworm]

Human Shield: Part 2

Hunter wasn't ready to lose a brother, not like this. But they're soldiers, so they have to finish the mission, with or without Wrecker.

Part 2 of my "how Wrecker got his scar" fic :)

--

Content warning: Temporary Character Death, Blood and Injury, a lot of talk about death

This took me so long! I kept getting distracted. Oops… Hope the angst makes up for the wait!

Inspired by this post by @squad-724

Part 1

Enjoy :)

Read on Ao3

Hunter's heart drops at Wrecker's answer.

He's always hated plan 99. Hunter's not a tubie, he knows that sacrifices are a big part of their lives as soldiers. Even they've heard plenty of stories of clones laying down their lives for the greater good. Clones are expendable, that's just how it is.

Hunter still didn't like giving the act of dying for the mission a name, doesn't like the way doing so has put the thought of self-sacrifice into his brothers heads so prominently.

“What?” Crosshair says. Hunter can hear the way his heart rate skyrockets.

“What do you mean 'plan 99'?” This can't be happening. It can't. Clones die every day, but Hunter's brother's don't. Wrecker can't seriously mean that.

“Self-sacrifice, remember?” Wrecker responds. Hunter knows he means it. Wrecker wouldn't call a plan unless he intended to execute it, wouldn't call plan 99 if he didn't deem it absolutely necessary.

“We know that Wrecker.” Tech says. Hunter glances at him. His eyes are wide behind his goggles.

“You're not dying today, vod.” Hunter says. Wrecker can't die today. “Get your shebs over here, and that's an order.”

Internally, Hunter begs his little brother to listen, to call off what he's planed, to suddenly see a better solution to the problem he's faced with. Instead, Wrecker laughs. The same genuine heartfelt laugh he's always had.

“Can't do that, sarge. Door won't close, and if it doesn't, the fire'll just funnel though the corridor and kill us all.” Wrecker's voice is strained but calm.

Hunter wants to tell Wrecker that he doesn't have to do this, that none of them have to die, that they'll find another way. But Hunter doesn't know that, does he?

“Wrecker.” Hunter says warningly, not sure exactly why. Hunter trusts his vode, trusts Wrecker, but this can't possibly be the only way.

“I can hold them closed.” Wrecker says with a sigh. Hunter shakes his head despite being aware that Wrecker can't see him. “It's what I'm made for.”

“Wrecker, don't!” Hunter shouts, finally regaining enough control of his body to try and run in Wrecker's direction.

Hunter doesn't get far before the whole building shakes. Even with the helmet, the noise is unbearably loud, almost bringing Hunter to his knees. Further down the corridor, the ceiling collapses.

Hunter feels sick, and not because of the way his head hurts. Wrecker's gone. His kih'vod is buried under that rubble, and Hunter could do nothing to stop it from happening. Hunter's vision blurs.

“Hunter we've got company.” Tech's voice wavers ever so slightly as he speaks. Now that Hunter's paying attention, he can hear the steady approach of droids. He can't think about Wrecker now, if he does, he risks wasting Wrecker's sacrifice.

Hunter readjusts the grip he has on his blaster, trying to push down the suffocating emptiness threatening to rise in his chest. Crosshair's still staring at the rubble down the hall. Hunter can see the way his shoulders shake.

“We have to keep moving Cross.” Hunter says, putting a hand on his youngest brother's arm. There's no denying how close the sniper is, was, with Wrecker, even if Crosshair likes to act like they aren't.

“We can't just leave.” He sounds despaired. Hunter wished he knew how to comfort his brother, but that's always been Wrecker's thing. They barely have the time to stand here now, Hunter hasn't got the time to figure out the right thing to say or do.

“We're behind enemy lines. We'll be overrun by droids if we don't.”

Crosshair's head snaps round to look at Hunter. He can feel how intense his gaze is, even through the visor. “We don't leave vode behind.”

“He's gone, Crosshair!” Hunter snaps. He shouldn't let his emotions run free on the battlefield, but he can't stop it this time. “And for nothing if we die here too.”

He grabs Crosshair's arm and starts dragging him. After a few steps, the youngest member of Clone Force 99 start walking on his own again.

As they engage in combat against the approaching droids, it's painfully apparent that they're missing a member. They hardly always fought in a group, but Hunter had planned for Wrecker to be here. His brain seems not to have caught up to the fact that he isn't, and won't ever be again. Hunter keeps trying to spot him, keeps listening out for his heartbeat and heavy breathing as he ploughs through their enemies.

The absence of those rests heavily on Hunter, like it intends to crush his chest. Every time he picks up on it, he's reminded of where his little brother really is.

But they can't stop, don't stop until they're out of enemy territory and back on the Marauder. Hunter has to fight to not let the gravity of the situation consume him as soon as there's a quiet moment.

He and Tech contact the general that gave them the mission, some Chagrian jedi Hunter had never seen before. Hunter can't help but feel some resentment towards the general, despite her not being involved in their brother's death.

As Tech informs the jedi of the data he retrieved, Hunter's barely able to focus. Crosshair didn't even get on the Marauder, still lingering outside.

“The agreed meeting point still stands.” The jedi says. “Can I expect you to arrive on time?”

“Affirmative.” Tech answers, not sounding entirely certain. Hunter wanders off to find Crosshair before Tech's hung up on the jedi.

“What are you doing?” Hunter asks as he comes to a standstill next to his kih'vod.

“We can't leave him Hunter.” Now that Crosshair's helmet is off, Hunter can see he's close to tears. The only thing keeping them from falling is likely the years of harsh training and preparation for a moment like this he's endured. The statement feels a lot like denial.

“Cross, you know he's-”

“I know he's dead, Hunter! You can stop repeating yourself.” Crosshair snaps, face pinched in anger before he turns to look away. “That doesn't mean we have to leave him there, where the seppies can get their filthy hands all over his body. Doesn't mean we need to leave him to rot under rubble in an enemy base.” Crosshair's voice falters more and more as he speaks.

“We'd have to fight our way back in.” Hunter doesn't want to leave Wrecker's body where it is any more than Crosshair, but it's a risk to go back for him.

“I don't give a motla'shebs! We took most of them out, there's just stragglers left.” Crosshair's visibly shaking again. “If you won't come with me, I'll do it alone.”

“If we go back to him, we will be late to the meeting.” Tech says as he descends from the Marauder.

Crosshair's eyes snap to stare at Tech. “Why the kriff would that matter now?”

“Oh no, I agree with you Crosshair. I was merely stating fact.”

With both his brothers advocating to go back, Hunter couldn't bring himself to do the reasonable thing. Not when he so badly wanted to see his little brother at least once more, and to lay him to rest with the respect he deserves. Though Hunter had to admit that he knew little in the ways of burial rites. Tech surely has some information tucked away somewhere, otherwise they'd improvise.

Hunter tries not to think about it too hard as they make their way back to where they firs entered the base. Hopefully there'd be less rubble on that side of the explosion.

There really isn't many droids left. Hunter feels awful for almost deciding against going back for Wrecker's body, just because it's what the rules dictate. They're experimental clone force 99, rules have always been little more than suggestions to them. Hunter doesn't know why he thought now would be the time to starts following them.

The devastation leading up to what used to be the generator room is substantial. The smell of fire and fuel is almost overwhelming. Hunter hopes death came quick and painlessly for their vod.

Hunter can smell the blood long before they get to where Wrecker's body must lie. The silence around the three brothers becomes heavy. Hunter knows they all dread what they'll find. There's no saying how much of their brother will still be recognizable.

Among the bits of twisted metal, Hunter is able to distinguish the remains of the door, dented and warped by the explosion. His eyes watch the glint of something reflective. Nausea twists Hunter's stomach as he recognizes it as a pool of blood, Wrecker's blood. But, that's when he hears it.

A heartbeat so weak, Hunter barely recognized it as such, and wheezed breathing. Hunter's own heart almost stops the second time that day.

“He's alive!” Hunter yells as he tries to find a way to get closer to their brother. First, he just sees an arm poking out from under the door, then Wrecker's head. What's left of the door is laying on top of the rest of their brother. Hunter starts trying to get the weight off of Wrecker.

Blood soaks into his gloves as Hunter drops to the floor next to his little brother. Wrecker may be alive, but barely. If they don't get him out now, it won't stay that way long.

Tech and Crosshair don't need to be told what to do, finding their place next to Hunter with practised efficiency. It isn't lost on Hunter that Wrecker could lift the debris with ease. Wrecker groans when the door is shifted off his chest, but remains unconscious.

“What do we do?” Crosshair's voice cracks. He sounds so lost.

“Stop the bleeding, no matter what.” Tech says, dropping to his knees next to their fallen brother. “We can worry about infection once he's no longer going into hypovolemic shock.”

Now that he's uncovered, Hunter can see the extent of the damage to Wrecker's body. Most of his left side is a torn and bloody mess. Hunter tries not to think about it too hard as helps his brothers pack Wrecker's injuries with bandages. His armor, even his helmet, is badly damaged. Wrecker's face is a particularly dire sight.

They do the best they can under the less than ideal circumstances. Hunter worries it might not be enough. Wrecker's dangerously pale and shivering as they drag him out of the base. With their effort combined, they can move him at a decent speed.

If they'd went after him faster, Wrecker wouldn't be this close to death. Hunter thought Wrecker was dead, so he made a decision based on that fact. But he'd made a mistake, left his kih'vod to bleed out under rubble.

Had Wrecker been conscious as first? Was he lying there in a pool of his own blood, in pain, just waiting for death, waiting for it to be over?

If they lose Wrecker now, it'll be Hunter's fault. He'll never be able to forgive himself.

Wrecker's still out when they put him down on the Marauder's floor, though he's writhing and struggling against them holding him still. Crosshair kneels on the floor, supporting Wrecker's upper body in his lap. Hunter helps his youngest body fix any slipped bandages and add more from the ships medkit as Tech gets the Marauder on the fastest route back to Kamino. Hunter can't help but notice that Tech's flying more careful than he usually does.

Seeing Crosshair hold Wrecker close, the large clone's head limply resting against the sniper's chest, Hunter's reminded of how the two of them had bickered that morning. Hunter hadn't caught all of the disagreement, but it boiled down to Crosshair saying he finds Wrecker's habit of hugging them childish and refusing to do so before the mission. Not a new argument by any means. Crosshair loves to act like he hates any affection coming from his vode.

Hunter wonder's if Crosshair's thinking about the disagreement now too. If Wrecker doesn't make it, that would been the last chance Crosshair had to hug him. Crosshair looks miserable as he keeps readjusting his arms around their dying brother.

“He'll be fine Cross.” Hunter says, barely believing the words himself. Knowing what to say has never been Hunter strong suite.

“You can't know that!” Crosshair hisses. “Look at him Hunter!”

Hunter doesn't say anything again. He takes Wrecker's hand in his. Even through his blacks, Wrecker feels ice cold, especially compared to how he usually runs hot.

“He needs blood.” Hunter can hear how slow Wrecker's heart is beating. The sound isn't comforting in the slightest.

“We've done direct blood transfusion before, what are we waiting for?” Crosshair says, stripping the armor off his arm. Hunter calls for Tech, not trusting himself with this. He knows the theory, but this isn't the moment to test if he's up to the task.

Crosshair makes sure to remind them all of Wrecker's dislike of needles, snapping at Tech to be careful more than once. Hunter can thankfully keep the two of them from starting an argument, reminding them in turn that there's little to no chance of Wrecker waking at the moment. Tech still takes care to firmly tape the the needle to Wrecker's arm once it's in.

None of them speak as they watch Crosshair's blood trickle through the tube connecting him to Wrecker. They almost have to fight Crosshair when Tech tells him he's given enough blood, the di'kut being willing to put his own health at risk to give Wrecker a better chance at survival.

It's not much blood, especially considering the difference in mass between the youngest of the squad, but Wrecker's heart sounds a little better, and his breathing is less erratic. Still, Wrecker's hardly out of the meteor field yet, blood loss being far from his only problem.

“What state is he in, Tech?” Hunter asks.

“Oh he's clearly doing great, can't you tell?” Crosshair snarks before Tech can even open his mouth. Hunter glares at Crosshair, but doesn't react verbally.

“It's hard to say.” Tech adjusts his goggles. There's so much blood smeared on his chest plate, though Hunter can smell that it's on all of them. Tech's white armor just allows it to be more visible. “He has numerous broken bones and his left eye and ear are beyond saving. The med scanner doesn't indicate bleeding in the brain or signs of organ failure, however, it is well documented that portable med scanners aren't always as precise as they should be.”

Frustration crosses Crosshair's face. “So what, that's it? He could be dying and we won't know until it happens?”

“Well, Hunter will be able to tell if Wrecker's heart stills, or he stops breathing. Other than that, yes.” Tech's answer doesn't make the situation feel any less tense. “Preventing further loss of body heat would be ideal. As would keeping him comfortable in general. Though that is less in favour of increasing his chance of survival, and rather to make the situation as peaceful as possible, if he does pass before we make it to Typoca City.” Tech's voice almost gives out towards the end of his statement.

Hunter's chest aches as he squeezes his little brother's hand. Wrecker has to make it. They can't lose him, not like this, not because Hunter made a stupid decision.

They hardly talk the rest of the time, focusing on keeping Wrecker warm and calm. Hunter barely dares to breath too loud, scared he'll miss a change in Wrecker's condition.

It's chaos when they land on Kamino. Crosshair and Tech yell for a medic as Hunter still doesn't dare to do anything more than listen to Wrecker's heart and wheezed breath.

As they watch Wrecker's limp form being transported off on a stretcher, none of the three brother's dare to say a thing. Hunter wouldn't be surprised if his kih'vode are wondering if this is the last they'll see of Wrecker too. They likely won't get an answer to that for hours.

Feeling sick to his stomach, Hunter trudges his way to their barrack. There, all three of them collapse next to each other, incapable of doing anything but cling to one another as the await news of their brother's fate.

#tbb #the bad batch #tbb wrecker #wrecker whump #cw blood #I still have one part planned to kinda wrap things up #though that one might be quite short #tbb fanfiction #my writing

[emimii]

deuteronomy family

#they made up btw #in my head they were like a very cool older brother and little baby brother whose super attached to him in their childhood #but things happened and it got strained out #i dunno im just a sucker for sibling relationships guys #someone euthanize me #cats the musical #cats musical #old deuteronomy #the rum tum tugger #munkustrap #deuteronomy brothers #art

[fidgetspringer-art]

✧ The Ardal stars ✧

#artists on tumblr #art #illustration #digital art #digital drawing #dnd #dungeons and dragons #homebrew #original art #my art #my ocs #Setting: Heim #I drew these a couple of years ago now i think #but since i'm drawing stuff for this setting again i'm reuploading with updated information cause the last one is outdated #I will say right off the bat however #If you compare my designs to already existing IPs i will block you on sight #the last time i posted these they got compared to a piece of media i really dislike #and that comment alone made me fall out of love with this setting for almost two years #so please. do not. it's rude and unnecessary #These are the artefacts my setting and its story is largely centered around #Tethry is credited with creating them (Even though he didn't) #They were gifted by Tethry to each of the largest cities in the world to serve as power generators supplying arcane power to the whole city #immediately pushing the four sister cities into prosperity and progress. leaving literally everyone else in the dust #which caused some understandable tension between countries that already had a bit of a strained relationship to begin with #There is SO MUCH to these little trinkets and their link to Tethry and how finding them essentially fucked up his whole entire life #You'd think becoming the world's most renowned arcanist would be the best thing that ever happened to an aspiring caster #but to some poor dude just trying to study arcane language. stumbling across the magical equivalent of the demon core #was very much not on his wishlist #especially not dealing with the consequences of trying to make sure no one actually realises how nasty they have the potential to be #which. someone inevitably does

[hella1975]

.

#be deadly fucking serious rn PLEASE whatttt. that post that's like 'parents will say something that shapes you as a person #but for them it was just another tuesday' like WHAT JUST HAPPENED #basically if you've been following me since i went to uni then you know first year was an... interesting time for me and my mum #we rowed all the time and it's the most unsettled our relationship has ever been and i do truly believe it was just some unfortunate #external factors like me leaving home would rock the boat enough it was always gonna rejig our dynamic #but on top of that i was her LAST child to fly the nest which she hated AND my sister was in germany being insanely dependent on my mum #so i got sidelined a lot which was shitty at the time but i get it now like im still a bit bitter bc being the eldest everything my sister #does is an exciting first and our age gap means typically our academic big moments tend to cross over #so my a-levels happened during her first year of uni so for me a-levels were the biggest thing ever but ofc her thing was bigger #but when she did HER a-levels it was the biggest thing ever and i was /just/ doing gcses etc and germany was the same #like it was JUST my first year of uni bc meanwhile my sister was living alone in a foreign country. so that sucks and my mum was #defo focused on my sister and i wasn't in a position to be like 'hey i know it doesn't seem like it now you've got one kid through it #but going to university and settling in for the first year is still an insanely stressful and lonely time so please pay attention to me' #and all in all me and my mum just STRUGGLED we fought A LOT and not petty rows either they were really emotionally heavy all the time #and basically what's caused this post is that she said about america 'it'll be the longest ive been away from you' #and i know what she meant like a month out of england is the biggest thing ive ever done and im not even in EUROPE so this is huge #but i kinda said like 'im pretty sure i went a month in first year a couple times without visiting?' AND I MEANT IT CASUAL #BC I AM PRETTY SURE IT'S TRUE LIKE I WASNT EAGER TO GO HOME I WENT SOME WEEKS NOT EVEN RINGING #which REALLY shows how strained it must have been at the time. and she responds with confusion so i pointed out that first year #wasn't a great time for us and again still being casual bc it's such a fundamental truth for me that first year was Bad for me and mum #and she just blinks at me like 'what are you talking about' what. WHAT. like i knew she wasn't paying much attention to me then #but it made me MISERABLE for an entire YEAR like boom can testify bc they had to deal with my bs over the phone the entire time #and my mum just. didn't even notice that we weren't doing well. what. what the fuck even..... baffled by this actually #like i am REELING from this i feel like she just tipped the fundamentals of my world with that #hella goes home

[im-still-watching-anime]

my fav part of hunter x hunter so far is how every single fight immediately turns into ‘wait this is….actually a battle of mental stamina……to see who can endure…..’

#hunter x hunter #SO many times lol #the author REALLY likes playing with like the mental endurance/toll thing lol #when it first happened in the exam arc i was like!!! wow the mental strain got brought up!!! pretty rare!!😮 #but then it KEPT getting brought up lol #it makes the fights feel a bit more high stakes though so i like it!! #but the way the characters point it out as if it’s a CRAZY new concept every fight IS really funny #like babe i just saw this exact thing get brought up in the LAST fight #also this is all a lie because my fav part of hxh so far is actually just kurapika😌

[monster-noises]

A memorable meal this year? 🎃

ooo mm.. the fact I can't pull one up right away goes to show how many like.. Cool Meals I attend..

OH FUCK WAIT my birthday dinner at my aunts on TCAF weekend that I almost cried at with the biggest most delicious steak, the most succulent mushrooms and a lemon curd desert that I Still think about because fucking Christ it was so good.. ;<;

also hello pumpkin!!!! it's been a bit!

#monster noises #truly!! it was an emotional experience!!!! #they sang me happy birthday which hasn't happened in Y E A R S and I got kinda teary #especially from a part of my family I've been relatively distant from for a long time do to strained family relations (my mom) #I wish I could... explain why that was so impactful without accidentally implying the other people in my life Don't Do Enough #cause it's not like my birthday gets... Ignored #and i like my more solitary traditions (crab legs and labyrinth is an unbeatable combo) #and my friends always message me and we always at least try to have a games night or something fun #so I'm Forgotten about #but it just!!!! ack!!! idk this is the kind of thing I should talk about Not out loud on the public forum of the internet #under a Cheerfully Toned Ask wondering how my Year Was #dfgsgdfafa #anyway that fucking lemon curd.... #I'd kill for that lemon curd holy shit

[arklay]

did not just think about diana finding al just sitting on their bed holding their wedding photo in his hands after she brings him back, and he's just looking at it, visibly distressed, and the moment she touches his shoulder he starts crying and buries his face against her chest because he thinks he really ruined their relationship. good lord

#leah.txt #pair: ewskers #baby boy she would not have spent years regenerating your body if she hated you i am going to disintegrate i can't do this #i think when his viruses are stable his emotions are very much Not. i think the mutant strain changed specific brain chemistry and he lost #a lot of empathy and just the ability to really feel emotions. he was very numb. he knew he should feel a certain way and emulated that but #he didn't really *feel* and after everything is stable he's feeling things he hasn't in over 10 years and he's also in a very bad state of #mind from everything that's happened so oh boy things aren't going great for them #also numb except like anger. and hatred. he was being turned into a literal killing machine after all. notice how blood thirsty he got? #i have so much post volcano lore for them i can't do this i need to just. explodes. and like they are still working through things ofc (it #takes years) when diana is alerted of activity with the company and even though they go and do all of that like he is still trying to find #himself again and decondition everything spencer and umbrella drilled into his head. they are still evil and scheming don't worry there #besties. and they still think they are better than everyone else. this is fact in their minds. but like. there's a lot going on for him #i put him through a lot of pain and as much as i joke that i want to put him through a blender it actually makes me really sad. he doesn't #need more trauma lmao. yeah he is evil and fucked up but no child deserves what spencer did to him #fictional man making me really sad. i need to wrap him in a blanket #sir why did you have to go and try and kill everyone on the planet whadda hell is wrong with you i'm holding your hand #maybe if your wife was there kissing you then you'd calm down a little bit and not throw yourself into a volcano #not unfolding time coming on shuffle as i type this what is wrong with you spotify i can't go through this right now #i like to see powerful men weak and cry but also he is a ball of trauma and it hurts me #i have Many thoughts about why he did what he did in 5 cause yeah it's out of character for him to follow through with spencer's vision #but i don't think that's what he was doing. kinda hinted a bit at this with that one fight fic but also i have a whole essay somewhere

[mental-skillness]

"This is gonna be my last pack for sure. I'm gonna taper myself off," i say, three days before i get someone to buy me a second pack

#i worked a graveyard shift and on the way home i drove around for 2 hours #and at a gas station i saw a homeless guy ive talked to a few times and paid him to get me a pack #idk i feel bad about it #like he agreed and he got something out of it too but it feels like a shitty thing to have done #like i feel manipulative for it #and on top of that there's the guilt for getting a second pack at all #bc how am i ever gonna quit if i keep doing that? #like i only have a year to stop #because once i turn 21 and have easy access it's gonna be a thousand times harder #and the issue is that i don't WANT to stop #i just don't want to die at 60 from a heart attack #and that's what's gonna happen if i never quit #like heart attacks are one of the most common smoking fatalities #and heart issues already run in my family #and i already take adderall (adhd not recreational) which probably puts strain on my heart even without smoking #but i really really like being able to smoke #i like having something i can fall back on #and it's so easy to imagine a life where i never make myself give that up #and there's also the added benefit that it feels.... validating? in a way? #like it feels like proof that i struggle with shit #bc healthy people aren't addicted to cigarettes #and that almost feels manipulative too #bc i already HAVE proof that i struggle with shit #i take SNRIs every day and have a history of suicidal ideation/behavior going back as far as i can remember #which means this isn't about validation #it's about wanting other people to see that I'm struggling and assume things are worse than they are #and tbh maybe it's about wishing things WERE worse than they are #like if my mental health is bad enough for me to be a smoker then maybe it's bad enough for me to act the way i do #but deep down i know that's not really true #i chose to start smoking and i had to go out of my way to do it