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oh-katsuki · 3 months

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a little zombie apocalypse katsuki!au drabble. my twd rewatch is giving me many thoughts...

cw: apocalypse au, reader is alone, mentions of death, implications of child death, grief mentions, reader is described as a "little thing" but that's more just the way katsuki talks, katsuki is a little gruff but he means well, guns, weapons, general apocalypse thoughts, mentions of zombies but we follow the "never call them a zombie" rule, katsuki and reader meeting for the first time, etc

the light of your fire is dim, embers burning low as you sit in a foldable chair beside it. you've got a metal spatula in your hand. you're not sure why you grabbed it when things went to shit, but panic does weird things to the mind. this, along with a few other oddities, are all you managed to take from your house when the world fell to ruin. everything else are things scavenged along the way or from people you'd met, joined, and lost.

the night is near silent and trees creak and crack like the hulls of great ships under heavy pressure, but the birds don't sing and nothing in the crowded wood you're taking shelter in makes a sound. well, except for you and the gentle crackle of your fire.

your head is on a swivel. it has been for months. ever since the outbreak, ever since the dead rose and began consuming and infecting the living, you've kept watch. a paranoid, never ending cycle that you suppose—if left on your own—will burn itself out. you swallow thick and return your attention to the fire, watching the tree line just in front of you for any hint of movement or monsters.

a branch cracks just behind you. a swift sound, followed by rapid footsteps. you stand, quickly turning your head, only to see a a figure a few feet away from you. they move quickly and the dancing light of the fire obscures their features from view. their eyes, most importantly. you can always tell if someone is dead or alive based on their eyes. in this light, should this stranger have that milky white film over them, you wouldn't be able to tell.

you make a small noise, something between a whimper and a shout, as the person comes to a stop in front of you and holds a gun directly between your eyes. the living. this person is alive. you're not sure at this point if encountering one of the dead would have been worse.

"drop your weapon," he says in a hurried voice. it's aggressive and threatening. it comes from deep in his chest.

you raise your shaky hands to your head quickly at the order, screwing your eyes shut as if looking in theirs would be a cause for attack.

"i-it's not a weapon!" you shout, voice cracking. "it's- it's a sp-spatula. it's a spatula."

the words are rushed and heavy, fear seizing your chest as you look down the barrel of the gun. the firelight glints off of it and you can make out the person behind the barrel's features. he's big, blonde under the grime, you think. a man. not the best thing to encounter alone at night in times like these.

you see him hesitate for a moment, eyes darting between you and the silver kitchen item in your hand. you drop it quickly.

"do you have a weapon on you?" he questions, voice a little less urgent.

you shake your head in response and then shakily look beside the chair. there's a knife there and a pistol with no bullets. you're a poor shot and you'd run out of ammo the previous week. he glances to it, the gun still raised at you, and sidesteps to grab them. when he does, he cautiously lowers the weapon. you start to lower your trembling hands.

then, as if struck by some realization, the man stomps towards the fire and you jump as he does.

"the fuck are you doing lighting a fire?" he says angrily. "those things may be dead, but they can still fuckin' see. that's a good way to get yourself killed."

he stomps out the fire as he talks, urgently stamping out what's left of the low-burning logs.

"i- i didn't think there were many in the area," you justify, furrowing your eyebrows as you step away from him.

"and that's a risk you want to take?" he says indignantly. you wonder briefly what business he has worrying about you.

"what do you want?" you snap, "my food? weapons? life? what is it?"

the man scoffs, "jesus, none of that."

you narrow your eyes and take a step back.

"not all people who camp out in the woods are good," he says. "but i sure as shit didn't expect to find some little thing like you alone lighting a damn fire. stupid."

"there were more," you say indignantly, like somehow that makes it better. "force of habit, i guess."

the man pauses for a moment as understanding passes between the two of you. it's a relatable feeling. everyone has lost someone now. you just happened to lose everyone.

"got a name?" he asks.

you hesitate in giving it to him before deciding what it could hurt. the man nods as if he likes the sound of it.

"i'm katsuki," he furrows his eyebrows. "you're alone?"

you nod, swallowing down the grief that pushes at your throat.

"wasn't always," you respond, "but yeah. now i am."

he nods his understanding.

"come with me."

"where?" you say instinctively, a defensive edge to your voice. katsuki looks at you like your stupid, or maybe it's pity, like you're a wounded animal. probably both.

"where the fuck do you think?" he retorts. "we've got a camp a little ways from here. i saw your fire from one of the watch posts we have stationed around the place."

you look at him like he's a little crazy for even thinking to bring you there.

he scoffs and rolls his head over his shoulder. "look, we've got men and women," then he pauses, "used to have children. we're not gonna hurt you. world's gone to shit, do you really wanna keep at it alone?"

he's probably right. you've been alone for weeks now, exhausted for longer, and though your common sense tells you not to go off with a strange man in this kind of world, the promise of community is far too tempting. you nod and glance back to your camp. a measly collection of supplies.

"we'll come back for it when it's light," he says. "i don't know about you, but i'd rather not spend longer in these dark ass woods than i have to."

"okay," you say. the presence of another person both sets you on edge and makes you feel the fatigue even more. a gun's barrel on your nose followed by the promise of safety and you're going with him? you must be stupider than a horror movie protagonist. "do you take in a lot of strays?"

katsuki looks over his shoulder and you think you see him smile a little at the phrase.

"if that's what you want to call it," he says begrudgingly. "me less than the rest." then, with a softer tone of voice, barely noticeable with the quiet whisper you both have been speaking at. "i'm sure the others won't mind one more."

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha x reader #tw: guns #tw: weapons #tw: death #tw: child death #i like this a LOT #i wanna talk abt it more #pls come talk to me about it if you'd like i have so many thoughts that i wanna share #mha zombie!au #<- that's my tag for this i think

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m1ssunderstanding · 1 month

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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.3

John having to get high out of his mind because he knows he's invited Paul to come play with him is so so sad. These are the same guys who used to sit facing each other on a bed playing guitars for hours, and now this is them?

Is John calling Paul “Jack Lemon” a reference to “some like it hot”? Because if so, I have questions. Anyway, when your estranged best friend shows up to hang out with you and a bunch of people, talking about being in love again and getting jizzed on is extremely normal and acceptable behavior.

This jam session is so fucking painful though. Paul's doing his best to just push through and get them to actually play something and John's just too far gone.

My theory: there's two reasons he did this. 1. He's avoidant and the last thing he's going to do is let on how bad he needs John in his life and how scared he is that if John gets back with Yoko that that'll be difficult. And 2. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't. If he'd kept it from John that Yoko wanted him back and later John cried to him about how much he missed Yoko or something? Paul can't have that.

John singing a snatch of Yesterday before a take of “Whatever gets you through the Night”??? Did either of them ever write a song where they weren't thinking about the other? Did they ever have a minute of peace without the other rattling the bars of the cage in his brain?

“Hold me Darling, come on, listen to me. I won't do you no harm.” Duh it's about Paul. Oh my gosh.

And with Bless You I'm always so torn. There are so many obvious references to Paul which the doc points out beautifully, but situationally it could also be about Yoko. Maybe it's about both of them in the same way that don't let me down is about both of them.

Anyway the cosmic visuals are gorgeous.

Why'd you have to phrase it like that though? Twice?

Hall of Fame moment. It's a high point for him career-wise and he chose to pull Paul into his spotlight. Not only to sing Paul's song, not only to name-drop him, but to publicly call him an official romantic title. Not “boyfriend” or “ex-wife” which both could've been much more mocking if that's what he was trying to do. But “fiance”. It's official and respected, but it's still got the lustful, unsettled, connotation that something like “husband” lacks.

Johann Weener, everyone. What a loser.

Everyone who still refers to Lennon Remembers like it's the fucking Bible listen to this. It doesn't go on for the next five years, let alone fifty.

John refusing to walk to blocks to sign the papers when George and Paul flew over the ocean. And only on the basis of astrology. He really didn't want the divorce. My heart aches for him. But he made his bed as they say.

I'm putting on my tinfoil hat again here, but I do just have to point out that one of John's first songs, “Hello, Little Girl,” has a line that goes, “you never seem to see me standing there”. And the earliest draft of WISHST, which was started soon after, answers that line. “I saw you standing there.” (Yes, it said you originally, not her). So maybe. Just maybe. That song wasn't just a Paul song, but a song that John knew Paul had put a message in for him. Okay, I apologize for the insanity. On another note, I do wonder if he ever found out what Paul thought of that.

Interviewer: ≈ at this point, do you like writing by yourself, or do you want to write with Paul again?≈ John: ≈well it's a bit of both. It's the same for Paul. We were talking about it a week ago. Okay, cool. So they definitely talked openly and honestly about potentially writing together again.

John, about their partnership, “There was always the feeling that someone was there if you needed it.” Paired with the gayest picture ever taken and then Paul singing “if I can do anything at all, let me help.” Thanks. I hate it.

John was so excited for New Orleans! What happened? I mean I have my theory based on May's book and the sudden shift in behavior. But it's pretty dark.

You know how crazy Paul is about John in interviews now? How he can't seem to keep John's name out of his mouth? John was worse in the seventies. He's promoting his Rock’n’Roll album, talking unprompted and romantically about how he met Paul, when the interviewer reminds him what relationship he's supposed to be romanticizing right now. So John remembers too and dedicates the album to Yoko who he's just got back together with.

Biconic quote.

Interviewer asks, after John's brought him up, if John's pleased with how well Paul's doing. John expresses his relief that Ringo has "found himself a niche" and then

I really do think that last bit sums up a big chunk of how John feels about Paul, and why he feels alright playing dirty against Paul or slagging Paul off. Why it would have been the furthest thing from his mind that Paul actually struggled or was insecure. Why Paul had to remind him, “I'm only a person like you, love.”

What an insane thing to think, let alone say. What if Julian had heard that? I'm pretty sure Julian and Paul weren't in contact, really at all, until the eighties, right? So John's doing better than he is at this point (I mean he's his dad, he should be). John is insecure about every possible thing and compares himself to Paul in every possible way.

Baby. He needed some serious help. The thing that sucks about being ahead of your time is that you also have to live in a world that's behind your needs.

And then. “There's always a friendly tv channel to turn to that's going to make you feel less alone.” I wonder if Paul “Call Me Back Again, John I know you're not that tired from the baby just let me in the fucking door” McCartney heard this? It's possible with how obsessive they were, but it's also impossible with how busy he kept himself.

Okay, here's the first story we've been missing about Paul experiencing negative emotions. And, of course, as always in this doc, it's paired perfectly with “Don't Let it Bring you Down” which is the musical mission statement of Paul's clenched-jawed smile philosophy.

"I tend to get a bit absolute in my statements." Yes, John. Yes you do. Another quote that Big Lennon fans should keep in mind.

John on the three weeks he took to decide if he wanted to continue the band after the first Hamburg trip: The others were mad because we could've been making money. Yeah, John, Paul suddenly had to work in a factory after he'd thrown away an educated, white-collar career (the first in his family) to be in your band. I'd be pissed too if you just didn't even bother to call. Anyway I just hate how casual John is about it. Someone who never had to worry about money is just never going to get that.

John doesn't even remember a ballpark number of how much they were making. Paul remembers exactly bragging to his professors that he was making fifteen a week in Hamburg. Sorry to go on and on about this right before Paris, but to me it's an important difference between them.

Anyway, the fact that Paris was more than just a vacation for them. The fact that – according to Stuart and John at least – they might not have come back. It's dizzying. They really thought about just running off together. I wonder what made them decide to come back and continue the band.

No offense if you do, but I don't personally believe in this stuff. What would the motivation have been for the tarot reader to tell him that? Either way, fuck him.

Gosh the live version of “Call Me Back Again”. You feel it, physically, how bad he wants this phonecall. And the desperation from such a successful man is fantastic. Literally, John, how did it feel to be the only man in the world that could get Paul McCartney to beg? “Pretty baby” “what can I do?” “Boohoohoo babe.” “I tried the operator, but I just can't get through.”

Reporter at the Wings over America tour: No John Lennon, no George Harrison, and no Ringo Starr, just Paul McCartney. And for everyone here tonight, that seemed to be plenty! Obviously he's loving this praise after all the negative press. Anyone would, and Paul needs it more than most people actually. But I bet part of him is like “stop. Don't say it like that, they already hate me enough as it is.”

How many times has John admitted that he finds Paul attractive? “It was no surprise, you know, when the kids – girls saw him, they go ‘ooh! Ooh!’ right away, you know?”

“I know it's true. It's all because of you.” Playing over this? Are you kidding me? Anyway I've never seen the picture version of this, so I thought I'd screenshot it.

But actually, in a way, the original written lyrics to Now and Then are less depressing than what he sang on the demo. “I know it's true, I'm still in love with you, and if I make it through, it's all because of you,” is obviously sad because they're both married to other people. But at least in that version, John's saying his own personal resilience to life's struggles comes from his relationship with Paul, which is nice. Whereas when John, who is sliding into a self-hating deep depression I'm comparing himself to Paul's phenomenal success, sings “it's all because of you” in a general sense, it almost feels like a callback to the ‘I'm shit and I couldn't do anything but be a Beatle (and ride Paul's boat)’ quote. Which is heartbreaking. I wish he could've recognized his own genius.

But yeah either way it's enough to make your heart heavy. If anyone needs a good cry, just go to the last five minutes of this. That should've been the now and then music video, but Paul's too scared of feelings. Which. You know. Considering how much it affects me, I can't even imagine how much it affects him. So he gets a pass.

“Why must we be alone? It's real love. It's real.”

#mclennon #paul mccartney #john lennon #the beatles #ringo starr #george harrison #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

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oswildin · 3 months

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DOMESTIC!LOKI X ND!PARTNER HEADCANNONS

NOTE: please note this is based on my own experiences with being autistic. no neurodivergent person is the same, and everyone’s experiences are different.

Oh, he has a SOFT spot for you, like so soft that it makes even him want to vomit (but he loves it)

He loves that you maybe think a little differently to others. It makes him consider things he hadn’t before. You always make him wonder

He does his best to explain things thoroughly, clearly and slowly, even showing you if needed. He always makes time for you

If he sees you are getting overwhelmed or overstimulated, he’s quick to try and help any way he can - conjuring earphones (he always keeps in his pocket dimension just incase), using his magic to dim the lights or draw the curtains, trying to redirect your attention to something else

If you’re in a busy, noisy place like a supermarket, he will always be watching closely, staying close, even guiding you with a hand on the small of your back in a comforting gesture

Need time alone? Oh yeah, he’s giving you sad puppy dog eyes, but allows you your space, knowing how important it is

Conjures illusions of stars on the ceiling, nebulas, fireworks, anything he thinks you’ll enjoy and keep you calm

Can’t leave the house? No worries, Loki has already cleared your schedule and is busy making your favourite food

Speaking of favourite foods, he always makes sure you have enough stock of your favourite brands/specific snacks. And if one store doesn’t have them, he will go to the next… and the next… maybe even another to make sure he can acquire them for you

Will gladly stroke your hair, your arm, back, wherever he can to help keep you relaxed and happy

Loki can always tell when you’re close to burning out, and makes it his mission to try and ease the blow of it

He set alarms on your phone - when he worked out how - for when you have things to do or tablets to take or anything he thinks you may forget. (He tried post-it notes, but realised they didn’t work, becoming apart of the furniture)

He finds you hilarious. He never laughs at you, it’s always with you, he is never unkind

He also finds you very endearing, how could he not?

Now, if you are having a meltdown, he always asks what he can do, never assuming. He knows sometimes you don’t like to be touched, and sometimes that’s what you need to ground you. He knew it wasn’t the same everytime, and would always follow your guidance

He also knows that he needs to let it happen. Of course, he ensures you don’t hurt yourself, but he understands that you physically need to get out your emotions to feel balanced, less overwhelmed. He never judges you, and unless you want to talk about it, he doesn’t press the matter

If someone ever makes a slight comment or joke about you, oh boy, they better start running

He’s fiercely protective. But he also knows you aren’t a child that needs coddling. But he will always be there to fight your corner

He even will rewatch your favourite shows or films with you, over and over, even reciting some of the dialogue with you, just happy to see you happy

Loki also will listen when you speak excitedly and passionately about your interests, trying his best to remember as much as he can, even though sometimes he struggles when your fixation changes quickly

He takes the lead in social situations, after all he loves the attention, letting you speak when you feel comfortable, but will also involve you subtly and gently to ease you into the conversation

Mirroring! He will gladly mirror you if you need to do something, anything to spend time with you

In short, he thinks you are a complex, wonderful, brilliant person, who is witty, kind and misunderstood by most people. He relates to you because he too has been misunderstood by others, and he finds comfort in having someone else who knows how it feels, even if he wishes you don’t know how it feels

He knows your struggles are very real, and never judges, never belittles, and loves you no matter what kind of day you are having

#loki #loki x reader #loki headcanons #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki imagine #marvel headcanons #loki marvel #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #mcu loki

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boombox-fuckboy · 6 months

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Hey!!! You commented on my post about limetown haha which is why I’m here. You offered to give podcast recs! What are your favorites?? I’m looking for some new ones

I completely forgot I had this ask, excuse the delay. Here's a selection of 30 podcasts I enjoyed from a broad range of genres: hopefully at least one appeals.

Let me know if you're after something more specific.

Arden: (Investigative, Comedy) On the 25th of December, 2007, heiress and young actress Julie Capsom crashed her car into a tree and fled into a nearby forest clearing, leaving a trail that seemingly vanished into thin air, and a dismembered torso in the trunk. A decade later, Bea, the first reporter on the scene, and Brenda, a detective on the case, are hosting a true crime podcast about it, and neither is remotely impressed with what the other has to say. Arden is also a retelling of various Shakespeare plays.

Desperado: (Supernatural, Adventure, Horror Elements) In a modern world of gods and magic, three young people, all under the patronage of death dieties, embark on the same adventure for different reasons: for safety, for revenge, and to kill The Old Man in the Sky. Fantastic banter and killer action sequences.

The Far Meridian: (Magical Realism) An agoraphobic young woman wakes one day to discover her lighthouse home has travelled to somewhere entirely unfamilar. As this continues to happen day after day, she uses the opportunity to search for her missing brother. A really unique and charming piece of fiction.

Gastronaut: (Sci-Fi) Interstellar travel audio blog of a former food critic as he travels to an active warzone to get firsthand experience with unfamilar cuisine. ft. Disgruntled martian nobility, sinister businessmen, explosive mushrooms, forbidden snacks, rogue revolutionary artists, and the consequences of your actions.

Girl in Space: (Sci-Fi) The Girl In Space lives alone on a space station, doing science, making cheese, rewatching Jurassic Park, and tending to the plants, animals, and artificial sun entrusted to her. It's a little lonely, but not a bad life. Would be a shame if someone came along to ruin it.

The Goblet Wire: (Microfiction, Weird Fiction) A surreal microfiction with horror elements, taking the form of phone calls to an audio-based game in which the voice of the mysterious Dictator leads each player through fantastic and horrific world and story.

Hello From The Hallowoods: (Horror, Supernatural) A dramatic entity beyond your comprehension visits your nightmares to tell stories of the people (in varying degrees of human and alive) that inhabit the strange, deadly, and beautiful Hallowoods, as they find meaning and sometimes eachother.

Hi Nay: (Supernatural Horror) A year after moving to Toronto, sound designer Mari finds herself drawn into helping people around the city with various horrific supernatural encounters due to her babaylan (shaman) family background. It quickly becomes apparent that there's something much more sinister and complicated happening in the background.

Inco: (Microfiction, Sci-Fi) A perpetually exausted interstellar information trader and her peppy AI find a mysterious (read: bratty) boy floating in space and are inadventently pulled into a world political intrigue.

Inn Between: (Fantasy) Ever curious about what the D&D characters get up to at the tavern between sessions? A generally lighter-hearted (with some exceptions) with richly-written and always-growing characters. A really interesting format, too: a lot of the adventure appears in the "next time" and "last time" segments which makes it all flow really nicely. Not a tabletop podcast.

Janus Descending: (Sci-Fi, Horror, Tragedy) A xenoarcheologist and a xenopaleontologist are sent to a study a dead city on a distant world. Nobody likes what they find there. A unique format, with one set of logs presented first to last, and the other last to first. I'd recommend listening to the supercut for this one.

The Kingmaker Histories: (Steampunk, Weird Fiction, Adventure, Fantasy Elements) In the Valorian Socialist Republic 1911, on her 25th birthday, tailor's apprentice Colette experienced the worst headache of her life. As a result, she fleed from town with a human artificer and a fae chef - both now smugglers - pursued by an utterly furious flesh-crafter. I'm not sure I'm selling how good this podcast is but it's very good.

Life With Althaar: (Sci-Fi, Comedy) A human repairman moves to a space station on the edge of human territory that is perpetually on the edge of self-destruction, and ends up with a less-than-ideal last-minute roomate. Althaar is polite, friendly, deeply interested in human culture, and eager to be friends. Unfortunately he belongs to a species that sends humans into a visceral panic at a glance.

Lost Terminal: (Sci-Fi, Hopepunk) Seth is a very lonely AI living on a satellite. His crew were left stranded aboard with no hope of return, and it's been longer than he can count since then. The Earth below him has changed dramatically, and with only a few other AI down there to talk to, he's very lonely. But! He has a plan to make some new friends.

Love and Luck: (Romance, Slice-of-Life and Urban Fantasy Elements) Voice messages cataloguing two young men falling in love and opening a queer dry bar together.

Midnight Radio: (Light Supernatural, Romance) Sybil McIntyre, host of the ever-popular 1950's nightly radio hour, begins exchanging letters with an old fan who has reluctantly returned to visit Sybil's beloved town.

Midst: (Weird Fiction, Western, Sci-Fi and Fantasy Elements) The old-western planetoid islet of Midst floats, rotating steadily, in a sea of reality-warping darkness. Down in the town of Stationary Hill, things are in movement, and vistors from the light above are about to bring unanticipated change. ft a monocycle-riding monster-hunter, radio-famous airship paladins, deadly mica, the universe's peppiest cultist, good dogs, and a really strange businessman.

The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity, and Mortality: (Weird Fiction, Supernatural, Urban Fantasy and Horror Elements) A friendly AI tour guide leads you on a tour of the Mistholme Museum, explaining the strange and often alternatural story behind each item.

Monstrous Agonies: (Supernatural, Relationship Advice) An interpersonal advice show for supernatural entities and other people living liminally in the modern world.

Night Shift: (Urban Fantasy, Investigative) Set in a modern world with the addition of magic, which manifests in small inherited skills/traits, can warp people in horrific ways, or can be manipulated with the right science (and intense work) to induce superpowers. Sebastian Fenn is a barista at Night Shift Coffee, but since things are slow he's decided to start a podcast to talk about various mysteries, crimes and conspiracies around the city, and of course finds himself deeper in them than he'd intended.

The Pasithea Powder: (Sci-Fi, Thriller Elements? I think?) The last major interplanetary war was full of atrocities, but none more infamous then the creation of Pasithea Powder, a memory altering drug which was used to horrible effect and landed it's entire team of creators in prison. So when decorated war hero Captain Sophie Green sees one of them wandering free, worlds away from his prison, she gets in touch with a very old, estranged friend: one Dr. Jane Gonzalez, who's behind bars for the very same reason.

SCP: Find Us Alive: (Weird Fiction, Supernatural, Horror and Slice-of-Life elements) You don't need to know anything about SCP to enjoy this. A research team gets trapped in an underground research facility when the complex collapses and the building is dragged into a pocket dimension. The tear it was designed to study begins creating tiny copies of itself, generating strange entities the team needs to deal with. And as if that wasn't enough, the entire situation physically resets itself every 30 days. And yet, this is genuinely also an office comedy.

Second Star to the Left: (Sci-Fi) Audio logs of a scout sent to explore and establish early infastructure new world, and the communications with the minder in charge of keeping her alive.

Seen and Not Heard: (Slice-of-Life, Drama) Seen and Not Heard follows Bet, who's still adjusting to life a year after a bout of severe illness, and the resulting hearing loss it caused. It's about the ways we make connection, and food, and art, and different kinds of grief.

The Silt Verses: (Horror) In a modern world where gods are abundant, frequently both commercialised and restricted, two devotees of an outlawed river god go on a pilgrimage.

SINKHOLE: (Sci-Fi, Weird Fiction) Forum posts from a data restoration community in a near future where the human brain is its own computer and one city hosts a massive void.

Starfall: (Fantasy) Seeking to escape her mysterious past and find some purpose, a young swordswoman joins a travelling actor's troupe. This new life is unfamilar and sometimes stressful, but she's taken under the wing of stagehand Fel, who's determined to help her feel welcome as she experiences the figurative and literal magic of the theatre for the first time.

The Tower: (Weird Fiction) A low-key, meditative podcasy about a young woman who decides to climb a seemingly endless tower. Gorgeous sound design.

The Vesta Clinic: (Sci-Fi) New GP Dr. Fae Underwood, with the expert transcription skills of resident AI Sec, writes up patient reports on human and alien patients of The Vesta Clinic, a medical clinic on the edge of human space. Really comfy and creative.

Victoriocity: (Steampunk, Mystery) Set in the steam-powered Victorian city of Even Greater London, an aspiring journalist and a tired detective find themselves working together to solve a strange murder. I say Victorian but as queen Victoria is now an extensive grandiocity of cyborg components following seven only-kind-of-successful assassinations, you may need to adjust expectations a little.

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bizarre-blorbo-bracket · 4 months

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FINAL for real this time: Davis (Juror 8) from Twelve Angry Men vs the Bimodal Distribution from statistics

Propaganda under the cut, and it's REALLY worth it:

Davis (Juror 8) (these are all from the single submitter)

a quick lil list babes, and I apologise for all of this in advance:

He's from the fucking film 12 angry men. like, aside from letterbox bootlickers and middle school hass students NO ONE has watched this film let alone care about it, it was made in 1957, is shot almost exclusively in one room and the entire film is just middle aged white men yelling at each other over whether some not white poor kid should be sent to the electric chair. what the fuck.

Henry Fonda, the actor, was 52 years old at the time of filming

Henry Fonda is the father of Jane Fonda, the woman who would revolutionise the 80's with her home workouts and her blindingly neon leg warmers.

His name wasn't revealed until the very end of the film and even then it's just "Davis."

I could honestly give him a lil smooch

He's absolutely not girlypop but he's the ally-iest ally who's ever allied

He's categorised as a "Benevolent Leader" on the Heroes Wiki

instead of the overwhelming urge for me to coddle him like most all other blorbos, i would appreciate it switched

I have a photo of him inside my saxophone case and sometimes i forget he's in there, then he creeps into my saxophone bell and when I play it he shoots out like a ballistic missile

Dude, on ao3 there's more fanfiction about the real life 80's British punk band The Clash than the entire film of 12 angry men, let alone Davis (80 fics come up under the clash, while 10 come up for 12 angry men)

I have a counter, and I've watched 12 Angry men a total of 145 times. The figure is up on my wall in tallies. whenever the number goes up, I like to watch it in 5's so then I can put another full group of tallies on my wall.

I have incredibly detailed stories about how Davis would boogie down to ringo starr's solo career, and they're written within the margins of a book called Tobruk written by Peter Fitzsimons. The only reason I reread that book is to wonder at my elaborate works of fiction

My HASS teacher was the one to introduce me to 12 Angry Men as he played it for the entire class. He gave us a set of questions to complete on the film and a few Law based questions as a little treat, and he expected it to be handed in the next day. What he didn't expect was an 11 page monster of a response that included social commentary, 4 paragraphs dissecting the character of Davis alone, deeply discussed comparisons between the landscapes of politics and law in the 50's to the present, and basically an entire point-for-point summarisation of the film, completed with obscure quotes from Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon and Presley (Elvis). He presented the printed masterpiece in front of the entire class to shame me.

After class he explained how his favourite Juror would either be 6 or 5, because 6 seems like a big dumb teddybear and he just liked 5. I explained how I liked Davis because he didn't want to send a kid to die, then he told me how Davis would make a good cowboy (at this point in time I was unaware of Henry Fonda's role in Once Upon A Time in The West) and I proceeded to go home and write a 3 part orchestral composition that I could pretend would play as the soundtrack to Juror 8: A Cowboy's Tale or something like that

I had started to make an animation meme starring Davis but only gave up when photoshop literally deleted itself from my laptop

I didn't even hear that Juror 8's name was Davis when I first watched it in class, somehow I only heard it on my 6th rewatch but when I did I literally got so excited I literally got winded and cried a little bit, I had to take a panadol because I got so lightheaded

I have learned the musical motif that plays throughout the film on saxophone, clarinet, recorder, guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and trumpet

I have visions of him

One of Davis' 3 children HAS to be gay and nothing can convince me otherwise

honest to god I'd be a home wrecker if it came to him

I quote not only Davis but the film a lot, and sometimes in the dead silence of all my friends I go on about how the old man couldn't have possibly made it to the door in such a short amount of time to see the kid running down the stairs (because the old man has a limp, and Davis proved it my limping around the room, which I have to say was incredibly attractive of him)

He's literally an architect

I once had a dream where Davis was in my bass guitar case when I opened it, and i literally just picked him up and started picking him like a bass guitar until I tried to play a full chord and he bit the hand that was meant to be on the fretboard. I dropped him and he fell on his ass, and when I said "what the hell dude what was that for" he said bass chords are lowkey ugly to listen to, and since then i don't like playing bass chords because now they're lowkey ugly to listen to. before this ordeal, i enjoyed them, but alas

i once got my romantic partner to write me a davis x reader fanfiction as a birthday present

my parents believe that Davis is my first celebrity crush, and while they're actually wrong it's still actually so embarrassing they believe that because OH MY GOD it's literally JUROR 8 FROM 12 ANGRY MEN

I've attempted slam poetry about him

I've eaten a paper printed full a4 size photo of his hand

I would also not mind him to be literally my father, but given the rest of the things I've just said about him that's really weird and I recognise that

the Bimodal Distribution

First of all, it's a math concept. that is already pretty bizarre of a thing to be blorbo-ifying. Second of all, I don't know any calculus, and I don't consider myself a math person (because I hate arithmetic), but I really like this guy for some reason. I mean this graph clearly holds the secrets of the universe. don't you just want to l o o k at it . like you could solve everything in the world with that boy

#bimodal distribution #davis #juror 8 #12 angry men #final

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doll3tt33 · 5 months

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╰➜ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ┆idk just existing┆⊹ ࣪ ˖

she/her 𝜗𝜚 libra ☉ libra ☾ sag ↑ 𝜗𝜚 lives off of lana, c.ai, and the thought of kai anderson rearranging my insides

my most recent fic/hc! - my haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets ❥ colin zabel

everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ❥ colin zabel

‘cause when you know you know ❥ colin zabel

my most recent c.ai bot! - gimme ‘em gold coins! ❥ stan bowes

I’d be the prom queen if crying was a contest ❥ peter maximoff

when I’m down on my knees, you’re how I pray ❥ kai anderson

Requests are open! ♡

Please make sure to read the rules here before requesting!!! ((only for bots, not for fics

a lil’ info:

• If you’re under 18, then it means this place isn’t for you and YA BETTER GET OFF MA PROPERTY!! On a fr note, please do not interact if you’re a minor.

• characters I’m sorta confident I won’t mess up with (aka characters you can request for): Kai Anderson, Tate Langdon, Austin Sommers, Kyle Spencer, Kit Walker, Colin Zabel, Peter Maximoff, Stan Bowes, Luke Cooper, Charles Decker.

• characters I’m not so confident with right now: James Patrick March, Jimmy Darling, Warren Lipka, Mr. Gallant.

I’ll need a rewatch to get a better grasp of their character so they won’t be ooc, but I’ll make them available to request in the future!

• general requests are cool! but I really appreciate requests with a specific scenario/AU. This is a kink-friendly blog, so feel free to go wild!

• if you want me to tag you when I post a bot or a bot of your fav character, then lemme know by commenting down below!

Bots & fics masterlist below the cut!

all of the bots below have detailed defintions and descriptions, along with example messages! So dw, none of them are empty carcasses of an ai bot

angst/dark themes - ✮ sfw - ❀ (might lead to) nsfw - ✧

c.ai filter breaking tut: pt.1, pt.2

Kai Anderson:

𝜗𝜚 Fanfics:

Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in. ✮

𝜗𝜚 Headcanons:

Kai Anderson SFW headcanons ❀

𝜗𝜚 AI bots:

Being in a toxic relationship with Kai (based off the song ‘Ultraviolence’) ✮

Kai breaking into your home for revenge ✮/✧

Visiting spiritual counselor!Kai to seek guidance ✮/❀

Kai coming up to you at a bookstore ❀

Kai “accidentally” spilling his coffee all over you ❀

⇢ I recommend the bookstore one over the coffee one if u r looking for a standard Kai bot to use, cuz the former’s settings are improved ((but like the coffee one’s still aight ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Colin Zabel:

𝜗𝜚 Fanfics:

Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ✧

My haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets ✧

‘Cause when you know you know ❀

𝜗𝜚 AI bots:

Having your first session with therapist!Colin ❀

Professor!Colin teaching you on your first day of college ❀

Peter Maximoff:

Peter challenging you to Pac-Man at the arcade ❀

Chilling with Peter in his room ❀

You’re both lonely on prom night so Peter invites you to join him ❀

Stan Bowes:

You’re the daughter of Stan’s boss and he has to pick you up from a party ❀

Having your first ever dinner with sugardaddy!Stan ❀

Interrupting Stan in the middle of work ❀

Austin Sommers:

paparazzi!Austin who won’t stop pestering you ❀

Kyle Spencer:

Frankenkyle showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night ❀

You’re a new witch at the academy and you’re responsible for Frankenkyle ❀

Studying alone with frat!Kyle at the campus library ❀

frat!Kyle comes up to you at a college party on New Year’s Eve ❀

Tate Langdon:

Helping Tate after he gets bullied at school ❀

Tate walking in on you playing a ritual game ❀

Dealing with an emotionally unstable Tate after your break up (based off the song ‘Meant to Be Yours’ from Heathers: The Musical) ✮

Kit Walker:

singledad!Kit hiring you as a babysitter ❀

Kit taking all the blame for you at the asylum ✮

bartender!Kit serving you a free drink ❀

Getting steamy with husband!Kit in the kitchen ✧

Luke Cooper:

Luke getting everyone’s coffee orders wrong but yours ❀

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obscurecurse · 2 months

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KP rewatch continues... I am always very fascinated by the first lines that a character says and/or the first lines two characters say in the presence of each other - especially on a rewatch, when you can view the plot holistically. I want to talk about the first thing Kim says in the presence of Chay, and mind you this is the first thing he says as WIK. My first thought was that Kim is literally (like immediately, hit the audience over the head with it,) revealing his nature (as Kim) to Porchay:

It's kind of the thesis of Kim's arc, though he paints it here as a rhetorical question. Kim has had to make sacrifices and lose things all his life to get to the place where he is now. He goes on from here to pursue a romantic relationship with Chay on some pretty selfish and dishonest grounds - in the name of reconnaissance on his own family's organized crime - and once Chay figures it out, Kim loses Chay as a result. (Not convinced the immediate consequences of all that were "worth it," based on the way he ends up alone in his apartment looking forlornly at those polaroids of Chay.)

Anyway, god, the way the camera changes to Porchay when Kim says, "But if we love something so much with all our hearts..."

And this is like the conclusion to that thesis. I always wonder if I miss subtleties through translation, of course. But I think this is written to be a double-meaning about their relationship. My interpretation being: what they lose along the way is the pretenses of their relationship. Chay approaches Kim with this built up unrealistic ideal of who WIK/Kim is, which Kim could not possibly do a better job of ripping apart. Meanwhile Kim only understands Chay in a one-dimensional way - which is why he so greatly miscalculates their dynamic - but this too is dissolved once he faces his own feelings. The evolution they each go through to arrive at true mutual understanding is an incredibly painful one, but it also frees them to love each other honestly if Chay ever unblocks Kim post-canon.

#kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche rewatch #kimchay #god i am so in the k-hole rn #that would be the kimchay hole girls no ketamine on a friday morning #i can't not write meta about this #i do not feel normal about them

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mrsquill · 8 months

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Alone and Forsaken

Summary: Joel is on his way to bail Tommy out of Travis County jail, having left Sarah behind sleeping. He soon realises something has gone terribly wrong with the world, and he and Tommy are desperate to save her. Basically: my interpretation of the truck journey back to the Millers to rescue Sarah, on the night of the outbreak in the HBO version. Based on this piece I wrote.

Notes: This took it out of me: I rewatched both the HBO series and the game scenes leading up to/after this to get into the right headspace, and it really did a number on me. This follows the events of the show, however feel free to interpret it however you wish! Please don’t hate me - this fic is quite sad, so please don’t continue if you feel it’ll upset you. Special thanks to @mandrillusphinx for the idea.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mentions of violence and blood, potentially distressing content.

Slamming the truck door harder than he meant to, Joel cursed his little brother under his breath. Fuckin’ Tommy. Couldn’t even keep his shit together on his birthday. He knew it’d been a bad idea as he’d watched Tommy go earlier that night; they’d had a shitty day at work, the hours dragging on, more and more problems cropping up on site. His brother’s solution? Head into the city when they were done, hit a couple bars and drink till his back didn’t hurt anymore. Tommy knew better than to invite Joel. He’d never had that kind of freedom; becoming a father unexpectedly at 22 would do that to anyone - not that Joel resented it for a moment.

He thought of his daughter, now, as he headed along the highway towards Travis County jail to bail his shithead brother out, ready for Tommy’s lazy excuses. Guilt pooled in his stomach. The fuckin’ cake. The fuckin’ watch. Sarah was his blessing; his biggest achievement, and more often than not he felt he was letting her down as another year of fatherhood passed him by. She was growing up, blossoming into a young woman, as beautiful as her mother had been before her. He knew he ought to treasure the twilight years of just the two of them. Joel was seeing his baby through college and beyond, no doubt about that.

He couldn’t forget Sarah’s words, eating away at him as they had been for the last hour or so as he struggled to concentrate on Curtis & Viper 2, her other birthday gift. You were never gonna do it for yourself. Joel tried to escape the notion that his kid was doing a better job of parenting than he was. His baby was polite, popular; Joel swelled with pride at parent teacher conferences and at school pickups, overhearing comments from some of the other parents. She’d had to grow up quicker than her peers, and she’d taken it in her stride.

He resolved to take a couple days off that weekend; head out hiking with Sarah like they did every year for his birthday. It was their favourite thing to do together, and he hadn’t made enough effort so far this year. Joel needed to make the most of it before he lost her entirely to soccer practice and sleepovers, or when she inevitably thought she was too cool to hang out with her old man. Tommy already did a good enough job of making him feel like a fuckin’ dinosaur. Small steps first, though: don’t forget the fuckin’ cake. Again.

Joel sighed; scrubbing a hand over his face, weary to the bone as he tried to concentrate on his driving. It was only then, pulled from his reverie, that he noticed the stream of traffic flooding past. Cop car lights dazzled him; he counted a dozen in less than a minute, speeding erratically on the highway. He felt the smallest frisson of fear. What the fuck? An accident? A bomb? Police activity in Austin on a Friday night was not unusual, but the numbers were unnerving. He was driving into in the city now; a journey he knew like the back of his hand. But as he travelled further; Joel began to feel a strange sort sickness, unimaginable chaos unfolding before him.

It all happened so fast. It flashed by as he headed for the jail on autopilot: cops scuffling with bystanders on the sidewalk, smashed glass and smeared blood, and people running - sprinting - seemingly for their lives. In every direction, with no thought for the road or whatever may be on it, any sense of human instinct totally abandoned. Bodies on the floor as helicopters thundered loudly overhead; white beams casting a horrifying light on the scene playing out before him. Joel turned the radio up, chasing an explanation; terror sliding down his spine like sweat in the summertime. A monotonous voice filled the cab of the truck: “This is a National Security Alert. Return to your homes, and stay there. Further instructions will be announced in due course. This is a National-“ he switched it off, heart leaping into his mouth. Sarah.

Joel rounded the corner much too fast; headlights miraculously landing on Tommy, eyes wild as he sprinted toward the truck, people fleeing into the darkness around him. “Move the fuck over, Joel! Let me drive!” his brother was yelling, and Joel slid across the bench, half in shock. “How’d you get out-“ Joel began, but Tommy was firm, temporarily more composed than his older brother. The military man in him. “Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, Joel. We gotta get outta here, away from all these people,” he said darkly, pulling off the sidewalk. “Where’s Sarah?” he asked, wiping sweat off his brow. “At home, asleep,” Joel whispered, feeling bile rise in his throat.

Tommy cursed loudly, foot to the floor as he navigated out of the city; Joel tried to center his breathing, anxiety washing over him in an endless tide. He couldn’t drag his eyes from the windows. People hunched over bodies.. Robbing them? Murdering them? Was it some kind of poisoning in the water supply? Psychedelic drugs gone wrong? Protesting taken too far? Civil unrest? Cars were rammed into one another, power lines were faltering and storefronts were on fire. “Tommy, what the fuck is happenin’? What do you know?” Joel demanded. He hated the loss of control; the world was falling apart around him and he’d left his daughter at home. Alone. Defenceless. In the one place she should be safe.

“I overheard a nurse, sayin’ it could be some sorta new virus, people attackin’ each other and shit like that,” Tommy rambled nervously, “You remember that stuff goin’ on in Jakarta? On the radio this mornin’? Well, looks like it’s happenin’ here.” Joel did remember his birthday breakfast that morning. It felt like a different life, a million miles away, a normalcy that had been torn to shreds. Reprimanding Sarah for the egg shells, hustling her out the door for school. Sarah. His baby. “I left her, Tommy. I fuckin’… I just left her, in her bed,” Joel muttered, anger at himself curled in his chest.

“You lock the door?” his brother asked, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Of course I did,” Joel spat, watching - waiting - for each street sign and junction, counting down the minutes. “She’ll be fine,” Tommy tried to quietly reassure him, “bet ya she won’t’ve moved an inch.” Joel ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, dripping in sweat, praying his brother was right. She’d be there, sure she would. Curled up with her sneakers on still. Right where he’d left her. Nobody could get into the house, he knew that much. Not unless they tried very fucking hard.

The disorder seemed to dissipate a little as they headed away from the city center; a tiny comfort. “Joel, this guy at the bar? The reason they called the fuckin’ cops?” Tommy started, “I ain’t ever seen shit like that in my life. I couldn’t stand there and let it happen. Dude was fuckin’ crazy, tryin’ to bite this waitress. Like he had a disease or some shit. He was twitchin’ all over, too. Maybe it’s a parasite,” he shrugged.

The blood in Joel’s veins had long since turned to ice, his brother’s story solidifying it. “Tommy, you fuckin’ get us home, and you get us there now,” Joel urged, feeling his heartbeat accelerating. His daughter’s name was a mantra in his head, repeating with each frantic thrum of his pulse. He was taking charge; Sarah needed him, and so did his brother. He hadn’t failed them yet, and he sure wasn’t gonna start now. “Rifle in the back?” he asked, Tommy nodding solemnly. Joel leaned over, grateful for something to do. Five minutes till home.

Equipping himself with a wrench, Joel urged Tommy on. Images flicked over and over in his brain like a sickening picture show: Sarah, her dark eyes - his eyes - wide with fear, her breath quickening, screaming for him, her father, who’d abandoned her in the darkness. No. He shook his head, physically, ridding himself of the nightmare. “What about the neighbours, Joel?” Tommy asked. “The Adlers? Denise, and the kids? Should we warn ‘em? Take ‘em with us?” Joel shook his head; again, more furiously this time. “Like hell, Tommy. We don’t even have a fuckin’ plan. Best we can do is tell them to stay inside,” he said irritably, guilt ever-present and swirling in his guts.

“So, what do we do?” Tommy asked plainly, earlier bravado deserting him. It always worked this way. Whatever Joel said, Tommy did. “I don’t.. I don’t know,” Joel mumbled, voice cracking. “We grab Sarah and we get the fuck out. No time for anythin’ else.” Tommy was nodding; orders received and heard. “Get a fuckin’ move on, Tommy!” Joel slammed a hand on the dash.

The cul-de-sac loomed into view: it was eerily, deathly quiet, besides a car alarm in the distance. “Come on, come on,” Joel pleaded, adrenaline coursing through him, homing in on his daughter. His purpose, all that mattered in the world. “There, Joel. I can see her!” Tommy pointed up ahead, outside the Adlers. Sarah was running. Fleeing, like he’d seen everybody do in the city. From the unknown, from danger, from death. But she was alive: her face caught in the glow of the headlights. Terrified and alone. But Joel was here now. He’d save her. Because he didn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t.

#joel miller #sarah miller #tommy miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #sarah miller fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #my stuff

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thedeviltohisangel · 1 month

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I live for Bucky and Spook and I have kids on the brain after rewatching the scene with Buck and Bucky talking to British kids Billy and Sammy so hear me out: Spook offering to babysit for one of the Brit’s kids and one of the kids sees them flirting and asks if they’re gonna get married

All The Things I Did (Interlude): I Want To Give You The World

a/n: ok this interlude became very important to the story. hints at post-berlin (promise we will see pre-berlin soon) cass and john, cass/lemmons/local children fluff, meeting cass' older brother, and hot times on a blanket in a field. interlude requests always open//inbox and DMs ready to accept screams. see you all soon!

The tip of the pencil snapped under the force she was using to press it into the paper. It was the fourth one in the past half hour. She thinks she was going to lose her mind. That the walls were closing in around her like a personal prison cell. That is almost exactly what it was.

The doctors and the OSS had her grounded post-Berlin. They had offered her two choices. Extended stay at a flak house or operational pause and desk duty. Cass had thought she was making the right decision. The former had meant leaving base and leaving John. After she had just gotten him back. After they had only just spent the night together and discovered the bliss of waking up in each other’s arms. No. She couldn’t leave him after all that. But desk duty. Desk duty was causing her slow decline. And to add insult to injury, John had been tasked with a mission to North Africa anyways.

She was trying to catch up on her reports and her targeting packages but it wasn’t enough. John wasn’t here to distract her. Colonel Harding would just flirt with her. Everybody else was locked in their own offices and working frantically. She was alone on her own boredom island.

----

Assuming some sunshine might do the trick, she found herself walking the runways. They were empty just like her heart. Her mustachioed pilot off in a far away land no doubt enjoying his time in the desert. Cass imagined he was still finding a way to cause trouble. Had asked him to look up her brother while he was there. She hoped Bobby at least ribbed him a little bit.

“Lemmons, what have we got going on over here?” It looked like a plane engine and it looked like he had children holding wrenches and helping him work on it.

“Lieutenant Cooper!” The kids saluted her with a smile. She lifted her hand with a laugh in reply.

“Just teaching these kids how to take apart an engine,” Lemmons answered. “Don’t get a lot of down time.” Cass hummed and reached towards the tool kit to pick a wrench of her own.

“Got room for one more?”

----

“Miss Cass?” One of the little girls had been finding Lieutenant too hard to pronounce the past couple of days so she had given her permission to use her name.

“Yes, ma’am?” They were all sitting together around a bonfire that Lemmons had started. The kids were roasting whatever they could put on a stick and telling stories about all the fun them and the mechanics were getting up to.

“Can you tell the story about Prince Bucky and Princess Spook again?” Spending this time with them was a breath of fresh her. Reminded her of her nieces and nephews back home that she missed so dearly.

“Where did we leave off?” A couple of the other kids gathered around at the murmur that the story was continuing.

“Prince Bucky was using his flying unicorn to kill the evil dragon!”

“Oh please, Miss Cass, tell us if Princess Spook is okay.” She ignored the smirks of the men that were also present. Cass gave them a ‘can you blame me’ look. She missed her man and this was one of the ways she knew how to fill the void.

“Prince Bucky arrived at the castle just in time, the dragon about to breathe fire into the window where Princess Spook was asleep.” They gasped, fully committed to the story. “She woke up and looked out the window and saw Prince Bucky and his sword, ready to kill the dragon!”

“I’m sure Bucky is very proficient with his sword,” one of the mechanics scoffed around his cigarette. Cass shot him a look that could kill him and he quieted instantly.

“He raised it high,” she lifted her arms over her head, “and brought it down right through its scales before it could kill the Princess.” The children breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are they going to get their happily ever after, Lieutenant?” Lemmons asked with a grin.

“What do you all think? Should the Prince and Princess be together forever?” They all nodded furiously, Cass laughing at the chocolate on their faces.

“Miss Cass, they should get married and then Princess Spook can wear a really big dress.”

“Then they’ll be King and Queen!”

“And King Bucky can slay a million more dragons!” Two of the boys turned towards each other with their sticks and began to use them as their own swords. The rest of the kids took their cues and took off into the darkening field to act out their own version of the fairytale.

“They’re good kids, Ken. It’s nice that you’ve taken them under your wing.” Cass bumped his shoulder playfully as he blushed around his sip of beer.

“They are much more into Princess Spook than they are plane engines these days, Lieutenant.”

“Cass, please. No ranks around the fire.” She poked at it gently. The distractions had been so welcome. This time spent away from John had only reaffirmed her feelings for him were true. That they were deep and meaningful and could last a long time. When she had gotten back from Berlin, he had told her he loved her. Had looked her in the eyes and held her steady and said the three words that Cass thinks carried the most meaning the world. And he had fucking meant them.

She hadn’t said them back even though she felt it too. Never one to be held back by fear, she was in this instance. John could be taken from her at any moment and there was nothing she could do about it. In her line of work, lack of control got you killed.

----

Lemmons was teaching her how to properly oil the gears of the practice engine when the first plane was spotted on the horizon. Cass stood and watched them appear one by one through the lenses of her aviators and smiled before dropping her tools and running to the tower.

“Lieutenant Cooper.” Colonel Harding lowered his binoculars to give her a once over, clearly enjoying the sight of her in a jumpsuit rather than her usual uniform. She plucked the binoculars from his hand while he was distracted.

“My forearms are too tantalizing this afternoon, Colonel?” He smirked as she looked out the window, until she spotted John’s plan and smiled with glee.

“Cassandra, I have dinner tomorrow night with my British counterpart. He’s known to talk with the prodding of scotch and a beautiful woman.” She hummed in thought as the plane carrying the man she loved got closer and closer.

“I’ll think about it.” It wasn’t the first time Harding had invited her as his date to a fancy dinner with their partners. It gave her a chance to elicit information of value from them as she played dumb and sipped a glass of water. John had muttered under his breath about it previously but after the most recent change in their relationship, she doesn’t think he would be so subtle about it anymore.

“Best not keep Major Egan waiting.” He took the binoculars from her hand and watched her go with a sad smile on his face. If only he was younger.

She thinks she exercised the most patience she ever had in her entire life as she wanted for his plane to land and taxi to its final resting place. Her entire body was vibrating as she waited and waited for the hatch to open and almost groaned that he would of course be the last one to exit. And then he dropped out of the plane and the clouds parted so the sun could shine on John Clarence Egan and she was off across the airfield like a cannonball.

“C’mere my lovely, lovely angel.” He caught her as she jumped into his arms, her legs around his waist and arms around his neck in an instant. John went for a kiss but she stopped him with a finger to his lips.

“Any new scratches or bruises or wounds of any kind I need to know about?” She had already located one on the bridge of his nose and on his forehead.

“You can do a more thorough check when you take a shower with me later, how about that?” he whispered.

“Yeah, it does seem you need one.” John couldn’t wait to kiss her anymore. He groaned as she wasted no time slipping her tongue between his lips, gripping her tighter against his body. “I missed you. Thought about you every day,” she admitted. He let her legs drop onto the ground but her arms stayed exactly where they had been.

“The men almost mutinied against me for talking about you too much.” She giggled and John kissed her again. “Though it did make me look a little desperate in front of your brother.” Cass looked at him with wide eyes.

“You saw Bobby? Were you able to give him the box?” John nodded.

“You didn’t tell me he was that frightening.” He didn’t mention that his hand was shaking when he was giving him the box. The way the older man had looked at him like ham on a buffet table made him sweat. Gale had loved every minute of it.

“He’s just protective when it comes to boys in my life.” Especially after Sidney Landry.

“Gave me a stern speech about the kind of girl you are and how you deserve to be treated and that he knew what I looked like now so he could kill me if he needed to.”

“He’s doing okay? Seemed intact?” Cass hadn’t seen Bobby since he left for boot camp immediately after Pearl a few years ago. Remembers hugging him with tears that she may not see him again. That he was going somewhere far away where people hated him. He had told her he had to. That he needed to do something to protect his family. Told her he wouldn’t be surprised if she found a way to join him over there. She and her brother Kent followed not too soon after. God how she missed them both.

“Told me to tell you he misses you.” John had been honest with the man about his feelings for Cass. Didn’t know if he would ever get the chance to talk to her father and that Bobby would be the next best thing. Told him he loved her and wanted to be with her when this was all over. That Cass was it for him, he knew it as well as he knew how to fly. Bobby was hesitant at first but watched the way John looked when he spoke about her. Heard the men making jokes about the lovestruck Major. Bobby had even asked Major Cleven for his thoughts on the whole situation. Gale had raved about Cass and how good she was for John. That the two of them complemented each other like salt and pepper.

When John asked for Bobby’s blessing to one day marry Cass, he had given it.

----

That night, they were back where they could always be found. On a blanket in the field of wildflowers a few minutes drive from base. John’s hat and blazer were thrown somewhere in the distance and she was working on the knot of his tie as he hovered on top of her.

“You aren’t allowed to leave me for that long ever again,” she breathed as she threw the offensive fabric over his head and John’s hands moved the hem of her dress around her waist.

“Yes, ma’am.” Cass used his moment of weakness to change the balance of power, hooking her leg around his waist and pushing against his shoulder until his back hit the blanket and she was straddling him. “I like the way you think.” She had only unbuttoned the first few on her dress, John sitting up in a daze at the sight of white lace, kissing her skin as she exposed it to him. Then, over the hill, was the sound of screeching children and it was only getting closer.

“John-”

“Miss Cass! Miss Cass!” She pushed John down as they came running towards her. Her fingers barely locked the last button into place before they were swarmed.

“We didn’t see you today!”

“Sergeant Lemmons said Prince Bucky was back!”

“Is this him?” She went to move from her precarious position over John when his hands on her hips stopped her.

“Not yet,” he cautioned. No need to scar these children for life.

“Yes, this is…Prince Bucky.” She had told John, after he had coaxed her into the shower, about her time with Lemmons and the local kids. About the story of Prince Bucky and Princess Spook and the dragon. He had teased her about their happily ever after all afternoon. “He’s just been back from killing another dragon.” Her look begged him to play along.

“Indeed. A large…gray dragon.” The kids gasped.

“Was he trying to hurt Princess Spook?”

“I would do anything to rescue my Princess.” Cass couldn’t help herself, pulling him in for a kiss by his collar.

“Will you be getting married soon?”

“Oh, please, Miss Cass! You’d look so pretty in a princess dress.”

“Prince Bucky hasn’t asked, little ones.” For his part, John was looking at her like the first sight of land after being lost at sea.

“Will you marry me, Princess Spook?” The kids cheered but Cass was frozen. She knew it wasn’t real, he was placating them and she loved him for it, but hearing the words come from his mouth felt so right. He meant them.

“Yes.” And she meant her answer too.

#masters of the air #john egan #callum turner #mota #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan fanfiction #callum turner fanfiction #mota fanfiction #masters of the air fanfic #john egan fanfic #callum turner fanfic #mota fanfic #john egan x reader #john egan x oc #answered #cass and bucky

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cherryheartssblog · 1 month

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SOUTHSIDE GIRL

Summary: based on the theme around the tv show Shameless. Y/N lived in the southside of Chicago all her life with her three other siblings she basically is raising. Getting out finding a nice steady job for once, her boss Negan Smith seems more than happy to treat her like a queen.

Warnings: 18+, smut, major shameless vibes!- I mean if you watch shameless you know, lower income households!, mentions of smoking!, rich Negan!, reader has three siblings!, daddy issues, small daddy kink!, slight mommy issues!, cursing, praise kink!, drinking!, anger issues!, dom negan!, lower income neighborhood!, rough sex!, major family issues!, semi-public sex!,jealous tendencies!,age gap!, cursing, and not fully edited.

A/N: thank you all for 275 followers!! I haven’t been doing this too long and getting support and the love is honestly appreciated!! I am currently working on drafts with the yearly vacation! I lost inspiration for a bit but it’s coming back thankfully!! Now, this is FULLY based around shameless tv show- which I’m currently rewatching! This honestly could be a series

The club was unbelievably loud.

Y/N and Valerie had just left the dimly lit bar and entered the pulsating crowd to join the dance floor. The two had met a couple of years ago in the bustling city of Chicago and had quickly become inseparable best friends. Valerie had been out in the town when she stumbled upon Y/N at a bar, and they hit it off immediately. Despite living on opposite sides of town, Y/N was on the south side of town.

Her life was different.

Valerie and Y/N had been at the club for a few hours. They had been sipping on drinks and swaying to the music on the dance floor, surrounded by a crowd. Y/N had a smoke break, and Valerie finally returned to the dance floor as they danced together. "I noticed that man was eyeing you at the bar earlier," Y/N responded with a smile. Valerie playfully rolled her eyes, "Don't worry, I won't leave you alone. I know plenty of men have been checking you out all night."

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes playfully. “None on my eyes, though,” Y/N admitted; she was perfectly fine. Usually, they just turned into one-night stands or a fling relationship for a while. “Come on, let's get a drink and sit down for a bit, yeah?” Valrie implied, fixing her heels while the girls walked their way back to the bar, “these fucking heels are killin’ me.”

Y/N couldn't help but laugh as she took a seat beside her friend at the bar. The ambiance was lively, and the bartender greeted them with a warm smile. "What can I get you two lovely ladies?" he asked, his hands resting in front of them on the bar. Valerie, with a playful wink, ordered two vodka shots and two spiked lemonades, handing him the cash and telling him to keep the change. The clinking of glasses, the buzz of conversation, and the soft glow of the dimly lit bar all added to the atmosphere.

Y/N scanned the dimly lit bar, her gaze was drawn to an older, yet undeniably attractive man a few feet away. Leaning casually on the bar, he held a glass of what appeared to be whiskey and his eyes were fixed on her. Despite the distance between them, his gaze was intense and impossible to ignore. Y/N's lips curved into a subtle smile as she turned back to Valerie, who was already gushing with excitement. "He just gave us another round of shots for free!" Valerie squealed, placing two shots in front of Y/N along with her drink.

Y/N gestured to the numerous drinks placed in front of them. “Yeah, no more drinks for me after this." Valerie snorted and responded, "Free shots are free shots, girl!" She quickly grabbed her shot and brought it to her lips, handing Y/N's over to her to take together. The shot was bitter; it made her throat tighten. She sipped her spiked drink a bit, grimacing at the shot, shaking it off rather quickly.

As Y/N and Valerie were enjoying their drinks at the bar, a young man with his eyes on Valerie approached them. He seemed to be around the same age as them, and his charming appearance caught Y/N's attention. He had a drink in his hand and appeared quite confident. Judging by Valerie's body language, it was clear that she was interested in him as well.

"Hey," He spoke to Valerie with a smile. "I was wondering if you'd like to dance with me for a bit?"

Valerie was hesitant to let herself go, but Y/N reassured her with a nod. "I'll be fine at the bar. Go, babe," Y/N reassured her with a confident smile before Valerie took the man's hand beside her and began a conversation. Y/N watched as they made their way to the dance floor, getting lost in the crowd. Suddenly, Y/N felt a presence near her and heard a deep voice she didn't recognize.

“Can I buy you a drink sweetheart?”

Y/N's focus was drawn to the rugged-looking man across the bar, who had caught her attention earlier. He was a middle-aged man, clad in a leather jacket that seemed to fit him perfectly. As she took a closer look at him, she couldn't help but notice his rough facial hair. What particularly caught her eye, however, were the intricate tattoos that adorned his hands, stretching up his arms and disappearing under his jacket. Suddenly, he saw her gaze, and with a charming smile, he signaled the bartender to bring them another round of drinks.

Y/N flashed the man a warm smile, finishing the last sip of her drink. "Who says I want a drink from you?" she asked, a playful smirk on her lips. Despite knowing she should not be attracted to this mysterious man, Y/N was drawn to his dark chuckle and intense gaze as they locked eyes. As the bartender placed their drinks in front of them, the man spoke up. "I thought you might like some company. I've been watching you all night," he admitted, picking up his drink.

Y/N scoffed out playfully, her eyes rolling with a smile. “Oh, don't be a stalker. It isn't sexy.” Y/N playfully teased the man, who gave her a warm laugh. “I thought you women liked it when we were stalkierish.” Y/N knew she was blushing like crazy, she hoped the night club lights covered up her reddened face.

“Negan.” The man held his hand out for her to shake, which made her laugh; she couldn't stop laughing with him. “Y/N, you're an oddball, aren't ya?” Y/N teased, sipping her drink and leaning against the bar resting in her chair.

“Maybe so, sweetheart. Only one way to find out: stay talkin’ to me.” Negan smile was even drawing her in; she knew this could be a bad idea. Y/N's lips pierced; she did not want to stop talking to him, but a small voice inside her head was telling her to stop. “Let's see if you can keep my attention, Negan.” Y/N eyes were eating this man alive, and he saw right through her. The older male chucked, sipping his drink.

“You from here?” Negan wondered, his eyes trailing down her body. He'd been watching her for weeks, the only woman that ever caught his attention in this place. “Southside,” Y/N admitted she was never ashamed of who she was. “Southside girl, huh?” Negan's voice was playful, his smirk still plastered on his face, “All you south side girls crazy?”

Y/N snickered at his comment, shrugging and finishing the rest of her drink. “We are bat shit crazy.” Y/N teased him once more, and she couldn't help but flirt with this man. “I think I can manage with that.” Negan gestured to her empty drink, “Want another one, sweetheart?”

Y/N nodded, continuing to talk to Negan. They shared stories and experiences that they would never have revealed to anyone, but in that moment, they felt safe enough to confide in each other. The connection they formed was quick to create, and they both knew that this conversation would stay with them for a long time.

Negan was a successful executive who held a position of authority at a prominent company in the bustling city. Having recently gone through a divorce with no children, he confided in Y/N that his dedication to his work had taken precedence over his relationship with his former partner. Despite his busy schedule, Negan frequently visited the local club with a few of his close poker buddies, hoping to meet new people.

Amongst all the women he had met, Y/N was the only one who caught his attention. As the night progressed, Y/N opened up to Negan about her new job that she recently just got. How she and Val were celebrating, and she started the next day. Y/N needed this job desperately, even expressing some to Negan.

Despite her usually reserved nature, Y/N found herself opening up to Negan and sharing more about her life with him.

“Shit, your parents are dicks no offense sweetheart.” Negan and Y/N were on their fourth drink, Y/N even snorted at his comment not even disapproving of his comment. Her father was in and out of the house, the neighborhood drunk. Her mother went insane taking off when Y/N was young. She barley told anyone about them, how she was at home even still with her siblings.

“I don't take any offense, trust me.” Y/N knew she was feeling the liquor. She felt like her and Negan could continue talking for hours. Valerie was the only thing that helped Y/N return to reality and down to where time existed.

Valerie and the man who offered her dance had been dancing for an hour, which surprised Y/N how long she had been talking to Negan. “We were going to party a bit more; you good?” Valerie asked her best friend, her eyes shifting between the two with a smirk.

“I think I can manage.”

The two were left alone again; Y/N hated how she wanted to throw herself onto this man already. Hell- that's what most of her one-night stands were. Most of them even have this much talking. Y/N figured this was how the night would end. He would be deep inside of her, pounding her, not that she is complaining.

Y/N's hand was resting on Negan's, and as they locked eyes, chills ran down his spine. He felt his eyes darken with desire, even though he knew he shouldn't be feeling this way about a younger woman like her. "I may be coming on too strong," she spoke out, her grip on his hand tightening. "But we could go off somewhere, too." Her voice was low and husky, sending shivers down his spine. Negan could feel the heat rising between them, and he knew he had a decision to make.

For the past month, he had been frequently visiting this place, but it wasn't until he saw her that he felt truly captivated. Every time she hit the dance floor with her friend, he couldn't help but watch her every move. There was something about her that seemed to radiate an aura of energy and joy, making her stand out from the crowd. Eventually, the moment he saw her alone, he knew he had to make his move and approach her.

He knew she was just different.

The silence sitting thick between the two was suffocating. Y/N and Negan were standing face to face, their eyes locked in a heated gaze. Y/N was well aware of the fact that what she was about to do was not the best decision, but her eagerness got the best of her. Negan, on the other hand, knew that he shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't resist the grip of Y/N's hands.

Suddenly, Y/N broke the intense silence between them, "I'm gonna go use the little girls' room, wanna make sure no one messes with me?" She pouted her lip, playfully begging Negan with her eyes. Negan's lips curled up in amusement as he saw right through her playful act.

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

Hand in hand, going through the crowd, they headed off to the bathroom, which Y/N barely saw empty, but this time, they both were lucky with no line to the toilet. Down the hallway, the music silenced; before Y/N could entirely turn around, his lips were against hers as soon as the guilt hit her. Y/N could barely take her next breath and forced her into the bathroom room behind her. He quickly twisted the lock, having Y/N against the door wrapped around his body. He had his hands roaming her body like he had been wanting her for months. She could not say much with how her hands were all in his hair, roaming her nails down his clothed back.

Y/N felt the dress that hugged her thighs trail up along with his hands, squeezing her thighs roughly. The pain mixed with pleasure made her moan into his kiss, his lips resisting to move from hers. Negan had her quickly near the nearest wall, still having him wrapped around him in his lap. Y/N could already feel his thick cock pressing against his core; she reached into his pants to unzip them. Began stopped her hand for a moment, finally meeting her eyes.

Her face flustered, still the prettiest woman he'd ever met. “You did somethin’ like this for?” means words rolled off his tongue, and his eyes were darker and filled with lust. “I don't think that's any of your business, old man.” Y/N teased, getting a chuckle from Negan, squeezing her sides that tickled her slightly.

“Enough with the questions, fuck me.”

“Oh, you naughty girl,” Negan lip rubbed up her cheek, then teased her neck with tiny kisses. Y/N’s head laid back, giving Negan full access to her. Negan placed her hand on the palm of his jeans, letting her unzip his pants, “fucking a stranger In a bathroom. You little slut.”

Y/N whimpered, pulling out his thick cock as his jeans hit the floor along with his underwear. Negan’s fingers work expertly to her drenched cunt, pushing her underwear aside. He then let two of his fingers easily slide inside her wet cunt. “Shit girl, you’re still so fuckin’ tight.” He growls against her lips, Y/N tasting the alcohol on him, gripping his neck, letting his lips move against hers again.

Negan slipped his fingers away just when her orgasm was coming, she growled underneath her breath from the loss of touch. His cock teased her folds, moving to her entrance. His hands dug into her thighs, and she knew that she'd have bruises. “Please, fuck me,” Y/N begged him.

Both groaned aloud as she sank over Negan’s length, stretching her walls. He rocks you in her lap, thumb against her clit. Whimpering, Y/N nibbled on her bottom lip as he fucked her up into her against the wall. She held onto his neck for support, his hands covering her mouth. Negan groaned slightly into her neck; she felt his thrust get sloppier by the second.

They both stopped suddenly; Y/N felt her stomach drop, hearing the muffled music outside the bathroom. The door handles jiggle. Both looked at the door; Negan continued his thrust, getting deeper inside of her. Y/N moaned against his hand that still rested on her mouth, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

“Fuck off!”

Y/N couldn't help but let out a laugh which Negan shared with her continuing his thrust, holding her now by the jaw and continuing to fuck her.

“Oh god— oh god—”

“Yeah, baby girl, that’s it,” Negan whispers huskily into her ear. His pace magnifies, thrusting up into her so hard that he can also make her scream. It was thick and hot, and Y/N could feel sweat all over her. “Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it; come round Daddy’s cock nice and hard.” Y/N soon slumped in his lap, uneven breaths rattling in both of their throats, feeling Negan come inside of her, her nails dug into the back of his neck, pulling his curls. Negan’s hands continued to roam her thighs, the words sending her over with her orgasm.

Both quickly cleaned up; Y/N wiped the running mascara down her face, trying to straighten up her dress. “After that, I think I need to ya again.” Negan laughed, pulling her to him and getting himself back dressed. “I am not a normal girl, Negan.” Y/N tried to tell him warmly how she felt, “I'd love to see you again, but I think I'd have you running off in a heartbeat.”

Negan kissed her cheek, and a smirk widened across his lips. “Don't worry, sweetheart; I think you'll see me again.” He left her in the bathroom alone. Y/N finally let herself come back down to earth, breathing and looking into the mirror.

She definitely was a different girl.

Y/N didn't even have time to think about last night.

“You guys, the bus leaves at 7:10AM sharp, let's go!" Y/N frantically yelled. Her little sister, Hannah, was brushing her teeth beside her, while her twin brother, Hayden, was still in his underwear, refusing to put on his pants. Y/N tried to reason with Hayden, "Hayden, pants now!" Meanwhile, Kevin, their other brother, was chasing after Hayden, causing chaos in the house. Y/N had to be careful not to get knocked down by the running boys as she grabbed clothes from the bathroom hamper.

Y/N couldn't resist a small smile as she made her way down the stairs, the sound of her sibling's roughhousing filling the air. "Boys please!" she called out, her voice firm but gentle as she attempted to restore some order in the chaotic household. With a bundle of clothes in her arms, she continued on to the laundry room, hoping to get the chore done without any further interruptions.

Her life was definitely different.

Y/N did a lot for her siblings, maybe too much. But her parents weren't around to help. Since Y/N could remember, it had always been like this.

Y/N, a woman in her twenties, was the eldest among her siblings. She assumed the role of taking care of her younger brothers and sisters. Her siblings were everything to her.

Hannah and Hayden are identical twins; both just started the sixth grade. Y/N had some help from their other brother, Kevin. Kevin was 15 years old; he was such a bright kid.

After struggling with the washing machine, she had breakfast already prepared for them, with eggs and toast neatly arranged on the kitchen counter. The bags containing their lunches were already packed and waiting for them, wrapped in brown bags.

Y/N was in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes and exchanging greetings with her siblings. As she worked, she could hear the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. It was Kevin, her brother, who walked in and grabbed a couple of clean glasses from the cabinet. "Everything's ready to go, try to eat up quickly," Y/N said with a warm smile. Kevin poured himself and his siblings a glass of juice and then turned to Y/N.

“You're starting your new job today?" he asked with a curious look on his face. Y/N nodded, feeling a hint of nervousness in her voice. "Yeah, my shift is at 9 AM. Supper may be a little late tonight," she admitted. It had been a long time since she had worked a 9 to 5 job, and the thought of it made her feel a bit anxious. For the past few months, she had been doing odd jobs here and there to make ends meet.

Y/N got lucky with this job, she knew she could not fuck it up.

"Hey Kevin, do you think you could come up with a dinner?" Y/N requested as she looked at her brother hopefully. Kevin gave her a quick nod and patted her back, offering to help with the breakfast plates. "Go get ready for work, I've got this. Don't worry about dinner tonight," he reassured her. Kevin was proud of his sister for landing a job that made her so happy, and he was willing to take on multiple jobs to help pay the bills and support their family. He was glad to be able to contribute in any way he could, including taking care of their siblings.

"Thanks, alright you two I love you, have a good day." Y/N gave a quick hug to the younger twins, "I better not get any calls of any fires Hayden." She rubbed the top of her brothers head playfully messing up his hair. "No promises." Hayden playfully pushed his sister away with a laugh, holding his plate of breakfast.

Hannah, with a hint of anxiety in her voice, “Any news on dad?” They were all seated around the kitchen table, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Y/N and Kevin exchanged a meaningful glance, and then Y/N turned to Hannah with a reassuring smile. "I have a feeling he'll be back home in a few days, Hannah," Y/N said in a gentle tone. "Val mentioned that she saw him at work last night at her bar, so he's probably just taking some time for himself."

Y/N had a heavy heart as she thought about her father. She knew that he was probably sleeping beneath a bridge with a terrible hangover, but despite this, he seemed invincible. Nothing could take him down. She had long stopped worrying about him and instead focused on taking care of herself and her siblings. She knew that their well-being was now solely in her hands, and the weight of that responsibility was heavy.

Y/N had a cup of coffee, heading upstairs to prepare for her first day at work; she finally had time to reflect last night. She and Valerie went out just to party at that nightclub just to celebrate her getting a new job, yet she ended up fucking someone in the bathroom.

A stranger.

Maybe this was not new to her, but she at least never had sex in public- not with a stranger. All she knew was his first name, Negan. All she could think about was his hands over her mouth, covering her whimpers from moaning his name. Y/N groaned to herself looking at herself in the mirror trying to get ready for the day.

She knew she couldn't fuck this job up, this was the best place she had her self yet. Y/N kept telling herself, not to fuck up.

The city was about 30 minutes out from the Southside, Y/N did it every weekend usually with Val. The city was always busy, no matter the time of day.

As Y/N got ready for work, she wore her office attire that Valerie had kindly lent her from the goodwill. After driving around for a while, she finally managed to find a parking space in the crowded parking garage. With her belongings in hand, she made her way to the elevator, ready to start her day. Y/N's office was located on the 12th floor, and she knew that she would have to start small. She wasn't even going to have her own office yet, and would spend most of her day sitting in front of a computer screen.

Y/N's heart was racing,she desperately needed the job, but she couldn't shake off the feeling that she didn't belong here. Growing up in the rough neighborhood of the southside, she was used to a completely different atmosphere. The thought of being surrounded by snooty, high-level executives made her feel even more out of place. She prayed that she would never have to go up there and face their judgmental eyes. Despite her nerves, she took a deep breath and walked into the building, hoping that she could prove herself.

Y/N walked into the building with nervous excitement. The woman at the front desk looked up and greeted her warmly. "Hi," Y/N said, "My name is Y/N L/N and I'm here for my first day. Tony told me to ask for him at the front desk." The older lady smiled and paged Tony through the intercom. Y/N knew Tony was the boss on the floor, and the Vice President of the company. She was sure it would be a while before she met the big boss, who probably wouldn't even give her the time of day. "He will be with you shortly, sweetheart. Please have a seat," the woman said, gesturing towards the chairs behind Y/N. Y/N sat down, her leg bouncing with anticipation.

Y/N’s thoughts wandered off to the man she met last night, Negan. His name echoed through her mind, refusing to leave her thoughts. She felt silly for constantly thinking about him, but the desire to talk to him again was overpowering. She despised how badly she wanted to bump into him at the bar again.

As Y/N walked into the office building, she felt a sense of excitement and nervousness. She had been eagerly waiting for this day for weeks, and now it was finally here. As she entered the reception area, a man approached her with a warm smile. It was Tony, the Vice President of the company, who looked like a kind and welcoming person. Tony greeted her, “Welcome Y/N!” Y/N returned with a smile and thanked him for the opportunity, feeling grateful for the warm welcome. Tony then led her through a long line of desks, where she saw people working diligently on their tasks. Some of them looked up to see her, but most of them were engrossed in their work. Y/N felt a sense of excitement and anticipation as she followed Tony.

Tony escorted Y/N to the elevator while explaining that she would mostly be working at her own desk. As they stepped into the elevator, Tony pressed the button to the top floor, leaving Y/N confused and with a twist in her stomach. “The big boss was wanting to meet ya.” Tony informed during the interview that she may never have the opportunity to meet him. The big boss was a mysterious figure who never came down from the top floor. Only Tony and the employees who worked on that floor had ever had the chance to meet him or even catch a glimpse of him.

“I-uh, May I ask why?” Y/N didn't want to seem rude, but she was nowhere ready to meet this man in this vast company, just some little employee. “Think he thought to be a perfect position for a job up there, wanted to talk to you.” Y/N's face widened, and she was utterly stunned when the elevator dinged; Tony escorted them off the elevator, going up to a woman at the front desk.

Y/N was nervous as she stood in front of Tony's office. She laughed nervously and shook her head when Tony suggested she meet Mr. Smith inside. "I- me? I don't think I am qualified for a place up here," she declared, her eyes falling to the younger woman at the desk. “He was pretty adamant about talking to you. Don't doubt yourself.” Tony quickly encouraged her, assuring her that Mr. Smith was interested in talking to her. After a moment of hesitation, Tony instructed the woman sitting at the desk to announce Y/N's arrival to Mr. Smith. The woman exited her seat and greeted Y/N with a warm smile.

“Ms. L/N follow me down this way.” The blonde lady gestured down the longer hallway leading to a tall black door. Y/N heels clicked along with the other ladies, she was beyond confused on why she was up here. She did not feel like she belonged where she was at right now. The lady opened the door for her to enter, Y/N watched behind her as she closed it turning to the man at the desk in the middle of the room.

“Are you fuckin’ with me right now?” Y/N couldn't help herself; she could not believe who sat at that desk. That smirk on his face grew, which drew her in the first place.

Negan was Mr. Smith.

The man from last night.

The man was her fucking boss, and she done fucked him in a night club bathroom.

“Language, is that any way to talk in front of your boss, sweetheart?” Negan questioned, teasing the younger woman. She scoffed with an eye roll, crossing her arms, clearly annoyed with the older male. “You knew, didn't you? The whole time- what, you just fuck all of your employees before they get on the job?” Y/N was furious; she felt like she was fuming. Negan, however, sat in his chair comfortablely with a playful smile and look.

“Wipe that smirk off your fuckin face! God, does it ever go away?” Y/N growled as Negan just chuckled at the younger woman. “You were right; you southside girls are crazy.” Negan stood from his chair, and his appearance was more formal than the last time she had seen him. She shouldn't still find this man attractive; she can not do this with him. But man, didn't he look good in a suit.

“I want to offer you a job up here, doll. I think you'd fit in well.” Negan offered to her, Y/N scoffed shaking her head. “I fit in? You have no idea who I am okay?” Y/N knew this would not be right for her, it felt she fucked her way to the top, “I just got here and your trying to put me up here with a bunch of snooty ass business women who if figured out I fucked you would leave nasty notes and trash on my desk til I quit.”

The young woman stood before Negan, her eyes meeting his as he regarded her with amusement. His gaze seemed to sparkle with a mischievous glow, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Despite this, she found herself drawn to him, captivated by his magnetic presence. As he pierced his lips and gave her a slight nod, she could sense that he was lost in thought for a moment, considering something important.

"This isn't about that," he said, his voice softening as he moved closer to her. She could feel his breath on her cheek, and her heart began to race. "I'm trying to help you out, sweetheart. You would have your own office, your own space, and more pay. And let's not forget, I would be the one bossin' ya around, doll."

Negan's words were suggestive, and he winked at her with a devilish grin. The young woman tried to hold back a smile, but couldn't help feeling a twinge of anger towards him. It was a struggle for her to maintain her composure in front of him, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. Despite everything, she couldn't deny the attraction she felt towards him, even as she tried to resist his advances.

Negan towered over Y/N, his voice echoing in the quiet room. "Let me offer you this, sweetheart. Stay where you're at for a couple of weeks and see if you want to change your mind, that good?" His words hung in the air, heavy with tension as Y/N met his gaze. She found it difficult to breathe, watching his eyes grow darker by the second. Y/N simply gave him a quick nod, keeping her lips sealed tight. "I told you, doll, I'd see ya again," Negan joked, and Y/N couldn't help but burst out laughing, shaking her head at him. "Come on, you won't even let me take you out on one date?" he asked, a playful grin on his face.

“I can't date Negan; men don't want what my life is, Negan. My life is fuckin’ ridiculous,” Y/N admitted, “I'm still at home raising my siblings like they're my kids. My father, when he comes home, will sometimes be passed out in our kitchen or, even better yet, our fuckin’ yard.” Y/N’s life was nowhere like his life; she saw the tall buildings out behind him. The huge glass windows surrounded his office, which was huge and filled with books and awards.

“Look at your life and mine; it would never work.” Y/N was interested, but she could not bring herself to put himself in this life, her situation, “You could have anybody, Negan, to these people, I am just run down Southside chick.” Negan shook his head, disagreeing with the younger woman. “I don't think that, sweetheart,” Negan addmited, “You're different, that's for sure, but that's what drew me in.” Y/N’s eyes scanned over his for a moment, letting out a laugh rubbing her forehead.

“Fuck it.” Y/N lips instantly shot to his lips, catching him off guard for a moment. He pushed her back closer to his desk keeping his lips locked with hers.

"Sit your ass on my desk." He ordered as he pointed towards his deck. “Here, Now?” Y/N's voice cracked, her nerves settling in. “Don't make me ask again, doll.” Negan's voice was demanding. Y/N didn't question him, so she sat on the cold wood, chilling her spine.

Y/N’s free hand curled a finger into his belt loop and pulled him closer. She wrapped her legs around his hips, gently grinding into his significantly hardened cock in his black pants. “Shit, we need to be quick but not too quick, sweetheart,” he warned, tearing her wandering arm away from him and yanking it behind her back. She chuckled, gently wincing at the roughness, but it crumbled as soon as his lips found her neck.

Y/N’s back instinctively arched and rested on the desk underneath her. She kicked her head back a little to allow him access. Negan was greedy yet smooth, carefully working down to the low neck, ripping off her top. She let him pull her skirt down her hips, his satisfied smirk growing when her panties came into view. The thick pad of his finger found her clit through the thin fabric, slowly circling it. Her hips softly bucked in response as a cry ripped from her throat. Negan took the opportunity to latch onto her bare chest, teeth nipping at a mark he’d already planted.

“Fuck, you’re already so damn wet.” he panted, not wasting another second to slide her panties to the side and run his middle finger teasingly up her soaked cunt. He dipped his fingertip in, watching how she writhed at the sensation. “Fuck me, Negan, please,” Y/N begged, shoving her pride down her throat. He teased her folds with the tip of his dick, her back arching from the desk.

Everything necessary was not her right now; all she wanted was him. “Better fuck me before someone catches us.” Y/N pulled him back down into a kiss, which was rough and sloppy.

Negan snaked his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her deeper into the messy kiss. The feeling of his tongue on Y/N’s and his beard softly scratching her face made her whimper. His other went between her thighs, keeping them wide pushed his dick inside of her. She moaned against his mouth, steadying herself. “Negan,” Y/N’s knuckles turned white from how tightly she held onto his arms, gripping the other hand on the desk.

“Fuck,” Negan cursed when he felt how tight she was, practically squeezing around his cock. Both of them knew it wouldn’t last long, and if they kept knocking on the desk, the wall, and the volume, it would not be long til someone walked in. She could not get caught; they could not get caught.

Y/N would go down, and she would take this man down with her, but they were both consisting of adults. He hooked the backs of her legs underneath his arms and pounded into her, the angle hitting a spot that made her body go completely loose. Y/N’s head slid on the desk under the moans tumbled past her lips.

Negan's thrusts went deep and slowed down so subtly she almost didn’t notice.“That's it, let go, baby.” Negan’s voice rumbled in her ears, nearing a low growl. “You're gonna be mine, baby.” His voice sounded exhausted, chucking in her ear.

Y/N kept telling herself she would end up fucking this all up; she didn't expect to fuck her boss though. And him to actually wanna date her, stay with her. Her breathing was hard to catch up with, cupping his cheek and pulling him into a kiss.

“I'm yours.”

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sunniskyies · 3 months

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𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐚, 𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐚, 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐧 || 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Finnick has been taken from the arena of the third Quarter Quell by the Capitol, and all you can do from District 13 is wait 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Finnick Odair x fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Violence, mentions of drugs, symptoms of abuse 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Very AU’d, reunion trope, fluff(?), angst, mentions of abuse, violence 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k 𝐀/𝐍: (I still don't know if I like this???) I was never going to write a Part 2, but I had this image in my head of the reader going to District 13 and Finnick replacing Johanna at the Capitol, and it had to happen. As with the last one, this story is based on the song ‘Georgia’ by Phoebe Bridgers, please go have a listen to the lyric references <3

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 �� > 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

Your fingers twist themselves around the soft blue fabric, causing your knuckles to go ivory white. Your eyes are trained on the screen, watching Finnick stumble through the jungle with a terrified expression on his face.

"Help me, Finnick!" You scream —or your voice does at least. "Help me! They got me, please Finnick!"

Finnick's eyes dart around, wild and crazed. "Y/N? Y/N, hold on!"

He staggers around, with Katniss Everdeen right behind him. Soon the canopy is saturated with piercing shrieks and wails - a mixture of your own screams, Gale's, and a young girl's who you presume to be Katniss's sister.

Finnick and Katniss have established the cries are caused by the ebony Jabberjays in the trees, but after Finnick explained that the birds must be mimicking from somewhere, the two tributes had fallen into a frenzy.

You yourself don't know where the Gamemakers got their hands on your voice, but all you are focused on is the sight of your golden boy, scared and alone.

"Finnick," you breathe through your tears. When the recording flicks back to a view of Cashmere and Gloss, you scramble desperately for the remote control. You press the 'rewind' button hard, watching as Finnick once again hears the Jabberjay's cry.

"God, if I see you rewatching those recordings again I'm actually going to burn the tape," a voice groans from the door.

You whip around to shoot a glare at Johanna, who is slumped up against the doorframe.

"Shut up, Mason," you snarl, focusing back on the screen. You've rolled it too far, back to the poisonous fog, and Finnick's cries for Mags echo out of the tinny speakers. "You don't get it."

Johanna rolls her eyes, pushes herself off the doorframe, and walks over. She plops down on the cot beside you and grabs the remote control from your hand.

"Seriously stop that, Fish-face. You're not helping Finnick from in here," she snaps. "They need you down in the infirmary, if you can pull yourself together."

Johanna, always the abrupt one, rips off your 'Mentally Unstable' armband and pats you on the back, hard.

"Johanna. I can't— what if Snow brings Finnick on for an interview instead of Peeta? I can't miss that!" You sniff, fresh tears welling up in your bloodshot eyes.

Johanna sighs, but just gently pulls the hair scarf from your vice-like grip and begins finger-combing your hair out. "You really are the one, aren't you Fish-face," she murmurs.

You sniff again. "The one?"

"Yeah, the one. That sappy shit you find in those romance books." Johanna fidgets in her seat. "Finnick's been with a lot of girls. But he wouldn't go tearing through the jungle—knowing it's futile—for any of them."

For the first time since District 13 had liberated you the night before the games, your heart felt warm. Looking back at the screen, which had now reached the Jabberjays again, you don't feel the usual pang of guilt at his reaction to your cries. You feel a rush of affection.

The one.

"Back in the arena, was he okay?" You often ask this question, even though the answer is always consistent.

Sighing again, Johanna ties up your hair scarf. "He was brave. Strong. What you'd expect from an ego like his."

You hum in acknowledgement. Same answer.

But Johanna continues, "But we could all tell he had a girl back home."

You turn to look at Johanna with raised eyebrows, encouraging her to keep going. She shuffles again, as if awkward talking about topics such as 'love'.

"The way he stared into the sky every night, the way he talked in hushed whispers when he thought no one was listening. I always thought it was that Cresta girl," she admits.

"But now I know he needs you. You're all that he sees," she says simply, ending the conversation at that.

"Hush, sweetheart. It's okay, it's not real," you soothe, rubbing circles on the red-haired girl's back. You've given up trying to coax medicine into the girl, instead settling on trying to prevent her from bashing her skull in.

She's moaning incoherently, and would be tearing at her hair if it weren't for your steady grasp on her wrists.

"Annie, calm down. Breathe with me," you say, kindly but firmly. You take long, deep breaths. Annie's breathing gradually slows, and her glazed eyes begin to sharpen.

All that is thrown out the window when the infirmary's television flickers on, a mandatory viewing from the Capitol.

President Snow, puffy-lipped and menacing, stares out at Panem smugly. A white rose is pinned firmly to his lapel.

"Good evening, Panem. Today we interrupt you for another message from our Victors," You deflate. Peeta. Poor Katniss, you think to yourself.

You turn back to Annie, once again trying to coax the medicine into the mad girl's lips.

"The program shall be carried out by a special new guest of ours," Snow continues. You pause, colour draining from your face, and stare up at the screen.

"He is a fine new addition, enjoy," the president's lips curl back in a sly smile, showing too-perfect veneers and blood-stained gums.

And then Finnick's face replaces him. Golden hair styled but limp, a tight white suit clinging to his form.

"Is that... Finnick? My mentor?" A shaky voice whines. Annie. You have to get her away from this.

"You. Girl," you order, pointing at a small, blonde intern nurse. Must be around 12 or 13. "Take Miss Cresta back to her quarters. Turn off the broadcast. Write her up for a rotation of one hundred milligrams of Methylphenobarbital every six hours. Do you understand?"

Nodding, the young girl wheels the cot out of the room while you stare desperately into the dull green eyes on the television.

"Hello Panem. My name is Finnick Odair, Victor of the 65th Hunger Games," he states flatly, voice hoarse. No amount of powder and colour correction masks the dark circles beneath his eyes and the bruises that peek out from his collar. Your heart clenches.

"Hello, Finnick! Now, I think I can speak for all of us when we say we didn't expect you with us today!" The reptilian voice of Caesar Flickerman slithers out from behind the camera. "Peeta's always been happy for talking, but you don't seem to be one for cooperation, am I right?"

Finnick nods tersely, "Well Caesar, sometimes there's people worth talking for."

The breath leaves your body, and you have to sit down on an empty cot before your knees give out. He's talking about me, you think dizzily. God how you wish you could tell him that you are unharmed and in District 13. That he doesn't have to cooperate to buy your safety.

You watch raptly until the program ends, obsessively studying Finnick's face and movements. Even after the broadcast cuts out, you sit numbly watching the black screen.

You want to run into Command, and demand Plutarch and President Coin to hold back the rebel forces. You fear that if District 13 so much as breathes, they'll kill him.

You're standing on the shoreline, watching as the figure of a young boy begins sinking through the water, silently.

It's the same dream every night, the same outcome, but regardless you still shed your clothing and dive into the cool water.

You push through the rough waves, and like always, the water stretches and distorts, 14-year-old Finnick always out of reach no matter how hard you swim.

The roaring surf deafens you as you watch the boy sink into the depths without a sound.

When you wake up, jolting upright with cold sweat trickling down your spine, you find the deafening roar not exclusive to your nightmare. Outside your bedchamber, you can hear dozens of people shouting and running.

Frightened, you stuff your feet into the papery slippers that District 13 has provided. Automatically, you pull back your hair into your blue bandana as you open the door. The hallway bustles with activity, people rushing in all directions, and you feel your nerves spike.

The air is thick with the smell of disinfectant and sweat, and you're quickly overwhelmed, so you take a deep breath to try and steel yourself as you join the throng of residents. You make your way towards Command, hopefully someone there can explain what is going on.

"Y/N! Hey, Fish-face! Over here," Johanna's familiar voice cuts through the crowd. You scan around until you see the woman, also pushing through the swarm to get to you.

"Johanna! What's happening?" You fret, clasping her arm. Her hair is still plaited from sleep, and she wears an identical thin nightgown.

"Don't freak out," she warns, slowly guiding you towards the infirmary. "But I just talked to Plutarch. Apparently, they arranged a mission to the Capitol without anyone knowing!" She growls.

You freeze. "The Capitol? Why?" Your voice comes out sharp, frantic.

Johanna grins. "To liberate the Victors."

You rip yourself free, hurtling through the crowd as if they are nothing but air. The infirmary is loaded, and people are running in and out.

"I'm a nurse! I'm a nurse," you gasp to the guards at the door, who swiftly let you in.

"Finnick? Where's Finnick?" You choke, pleading at anyone you pass. But they all seem to be distracted by something happening between Katniss, her guard and a very sick-looking man.

"Please, someone tell me where he is!—" You stop, eyes snagging on a tangle of bronze hair.

A thunderclap of relief pierces through you. Finnick is sitting on a gurney with his head bowed and his hands clasped tightly together. He looks worn and defeated, and your heart breaks at the sight of him.

You don't remember pushing through the thick crowd, but you do remember grasping his clasped hands with your own shaky ones.

"Finnick," you breathe. His head jerks upright at the sound of your voice, and when he sees your eyes the defeated boy is replaced by the King of the World.

"Y/N!" He cries, arms wrapping around you and pulling you tight against him. Your face burrows into his neck, your hands never satisfied, constantly moving and grasping a different spot on his shirt or his hair.

"Finnick are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!" You sob, pulling back to look at him briefly before slamming into another tight hug.

"I'm here, it doesn't matter," he whispers into your hair. Disbelief and gratitude has sunk into his tone. "I can't believe you're here. I thought you were back in Four, I thought they had you after the Jabberjays..." His voice is choked out by emotion, and you lean back to show him that you're okay.

Tears well up in your eyes as you take in his exhausted appearance. His golden hair is matted and dishevelled, his skin pallid and marked with bruises. You reach out to touch his cheek gently, tracing the contours of his face. God, how many years you've imagined being able to hold him like this.

"I can fix this," you smile, tapping lightly on his bruised skin. He smiles back, weak but full of warmth.

How could Snow hurt him? This gold-hearted man, how could he take him and tear him apart?

"Do you hate me?" You whisper, fingers stilling from where they were tracing his jaw. Finnick's brow furrows.

"Of course not," he replies. Gently —whether for your sake or his, you're not sure— Finnick pulls you into the narrow mattress next to him. You remain holding each other, but now he's cupping your head, thumb rubbing over the blue fabric of Georgia's scarf as he stares into your eyes, and you stare into his.

"I wasn't sure if I would ever see those eyes again," he murmurs. You giggle, a melody to his ears.

"My eyes? Why are they important?"

Finnick smiles shyly. "It depends. Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Your heart flutters. He said it. He said how you've been feeling towards him for ten years. And he said it about you.

"I do. Because I've loved you ever since I pulled you out of that stupid ocean."

The grin that Finnick shines at you could rival the sun in brightness. "All that time?" You nod. "Well, will you still have me?" He murmurs. When confusion shines in your eyes, he gestures to his condition, scabby cuts and bruises, hollow skin and boney ribs.

A smile, pure and angelic, splits your face. "Of course, Finnick. Will you have me?"

"Over anything."

#ph☆ebe's scribbles #finnick odair x reader #hunger games fic #one shot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #finnick odair #the hunger games #blurb #fanfic #fanfiction

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