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sstrwbrryccke · 4 months

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—bullying him pt.2 | sub choi soobin

part 1 | part 3

tags: bully reader x nerd soobin, gn reader, mean reader, sadistic reader, somewhat possessive reader, one-sided crush but not really (reader has feelings too but doesn’t admit it), public humiliation, public orgasms, dubcon, oral (soob.receiving), vibrator (soob.receiving), unhealthy relationship, heavy exhibitionism, kind of cute at the end?

its a few weeks or maybe months into this weird relationship you two established. or more accurately, you pulling him around and him being at your every beck and call. maybe your relationship with him was a secret, but how downbad he is for you wasn’t. it was real obvious how he looked at you in class, only to look down when you made eye contact with him. a pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks. look at him, getting his hope up and everything. when you call him to your desk during lunch break, he couldn’t help his eagerness, walking past your friends and glancing at you through his bangs. it’s pathetic, really, how excited he gets when you give him attention.

“what… what did you need?” he repeated, barely able to keep himself in check. probably used up all his courage just to choke out those words. your friends stare at the two of you, some holding back their laughter while others were glaring at him. he shrivel under their judging gazes, his tall figure and head slightly slumped as if he was trying to make himself appear smaller. which was impossible, considering how tall he was.

you smile at him, and he lights up a little. “yeah, can you get me a drink at the vending machine?”

he dissipates visibly, a small frown on his plump lips before he nods— you would almost feel bad for him if it weren’t for how cute he looked while sad. he quickly rushed out of the classroom, probably to get away from your friend’s snickering.

soobin’s attraction was no secret even to you. but could you really blame him? just a few days ago, you discovered something shocking (or maybe it was already obvious), not only was soobin a friendless loser (to his own admission), but he also had the biggest, fattest crush on you ever since the start of high school. when he told you, you couldn’t help but grin, this was a gold mine. from then on, it was just so much easier to play with him.

you were slapped out your daze by your friends, they were patting your back while laughing.

“holy shit, you made him your errand boy?” one joked, but you felt a slight rising irritation at their sudden attention towards soobin. it was irrational, seriously, because you really had no problem with it before.

“woah, why the glaring.” another just jested, and you rolled your eyes, packing up your lunch.

“i mean, i would kill for an errand boy. bet he’ll get down on his knees and—“

“shut up. with your face, he doesn’t need to be on his knees to gag” you snap, and perhaps you overreacted. but your friends shrugged it off as a joke, laughing and jabbing at the guy who got insulted

“damn they got you there.”

you put the final item into your bag before standing up and heading for the door.

“yo where you going?”

“rooftop.” you weren’t technically lying.

during school, outside of the classmate context, you pretend to not know him, it was more fun that way. you told him it was because you couldn’t associate with a loser like him, and he meekly nodded. (real reason? teasing him was fun).

it was easy to spot soobin at the vending machine, lamely contemplating which drink you would like the most. so concentrated that he didn’t even notice your figure approaching him until your strong grip was pulling him by the arm. he visibly flinches, wide eyes confused as he stumbles behind you.

“the— you— the drink”

“i wasn’t even thirsty.”

he seemed puzzled at this, but lets you manhandle his tall ass figure anyways (it never ceases to turn him on). you release his arm when you reach the rooftop. he takes a glance at his surroundings before looking back at you. suddenly awkward in his body again, he shifts from one foot to the other while fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“so uhm… what are we do—“

you roughly kiss him and he shuts up with a small startled noise. you push him harshly into the fence and he yelps into the kiss before having his senses dominated by your eager tongue, forcing into his mouth. he was frozen like always, closing his eyes desperately, pilant under your touch because he had no damn idea what he was doing. after a few seconds, his jittery hands push you off, because he physically couldn’t breathe anymore. he inhales shakily, lips wet with saliva and cheeks tinted red.

you hand lowers and begin to unbutton his shirt, feeling from his chest to his stomach. his skin was always so soft and satisfying to feel. (you once asked if he had a skincare routine and he nodded nervously, asking if you wanted to know) you slid your hand up to his nipple, pinching at one. he trembles at this, hands sweaty and he didn’t know where to place them so he just grips at your shoulders. your hand suddenly palms at his bulge and he jolts, a desperate breathy moan escaping his mouth

“it’s! it’s public! we’re— we’re in public!”

he manages to squeak out, eyes squeezed shut. you stop, a snarky expression on your face. you pull away fully, leaving him with his back flush against the fence. he whimpers softly when he felt your weight lift from his body, eyelids fluttering open to look at you.

“m’kay. i’ll just go then.”

you roll your eyes as you turn your heel.

“wait! wait! i’m sorry. im so sorry. please don’t leave me.”

a grin quirks the edges of your lips as you turn back towards him. hands on hips.

“thought you said we’re in public?”

“yes but… i…” he says between bated breathes, blush deepening.

“you still want me to touch you, don’t you? desperate slut.” you step closer to him, grin on your lips.

he gulps, head lowering until his bangs covered his eyes, but you could see the red tips of his ears. he nods slowly.

“good, then we’re doing it my way.”

you stride confidently to him and he shivers. your hand goes to his pants without hesitation, pulling everything down at once. making his rock hard cock slap against his abdomen, angrily red and leaking. you take it in your hands, pumping it a few times and he cries.

“shush. don’t come.”

you just warn, grasping the head of his cock, hard. his thighs tremble but he nods. you found out, while still in the beginning stages of this weird relationship, that soobin orgasms embarrassingly fast. i guess that’s what you get with a perverted virgin nerd who’s only frame of reference for sex is manga porn. but it wasn’t a bad thing really, you just liked seeing him desperately try to hold it in.

“don’t come until i say so, okay?” you repeat, harshly gripping at his cock again and he whimpers a yes.

without hesitation you kneel down, taking his length into your mouth in one go. you can hear his gasp, but you didn’t need to look up to know he was nervous, you could tell with how his calves and thighs shook. you were only teasing when you called him small earlier, because he was big, big enough to hit the back of your throat. you slowly began to move and he moans softly, so sensitive. he tasted sweaty and salty, but it wasn’t a bad scent. (you made sure he was cleaned up after all.)

you pull your mouth off just up till his tip, your tongue swirling around and digging into his slit while your hands pumped the rest of his length. he cries and thrashes, jittery hands coming up to grasp your hair. but you immediately slap him off, glaring up at him. you were in control, not him. you slide your mouth off his cock and he immediately starts apologising.

“i’m sorry! please don’t be mad, i didn’t mean to! i won’t touch you without permission i—i’m sorry, please don’t stop!”

“instead of worrying about your pathetically small dick, how about you worry about your loud ass moans?”

he quickly clasps his hands over his mouth, ears a bright red, eyes teary. you suck his dick into your warm mouth again and he sobs quietly. his moans came out breathy and squeaky, he’s never been a loud moaner, but it was extra hard to keep it down when his bully was literally going to town on his cock. you were enjoying him like he was a lollipop. your hand creeps up to his ass, one finger slipping into his hole, already loose from the morning. (he stayed over and you took him to school) he doubles over, gasping and squirming, thighs trembling, and you knew he was close before he even whispered it. he shakes his head violently, nearly drooling at the double stimulation— and just before his stomach spasms and he feels his sweet orgasm, you pull off. one hand firmly squeezing the base of his cock, denying his orgasm.

he cries out, eyes wide as he processes the situation. you stand, legs a little shaky due to kneeling for so long, a smile on your lips. when he realises you weren’t going to let him cum, he sobs, tears quick to come down. his bunny eyes glancing at you meekly as if asking why you stopped.

“oh soobin.” you tease, dropping his cock from your grip. “class is about to start soon, you wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect track record, do you?”

he looks at you in a silent fear at what you’re insinuating, but don’t worry, you were far meaner than that. you pull his pants further down, digging into your pocket and showing him the vibrating bullet you bought especially for him. more tears fall down and you just chuckle.

it didn’t take much for you to squeeze the bullet in. but he was squirming and whimpering the whole way through, shaking his head and looking at you so pitifully.

“you’re… you’re so mean.” his voice cracks, bottom lip trembling.

you wipe his tears with a smirk, pulling up his pants and buttoning his shirt, his hard-on uncomfortably pressing against the fabric.

“yet look who’s turned on.”

☆★☆

in class it wasn’t any better, he was clearly ruffled, his hair tousled, collar undone and eyes red from previously crying. one of his legs was shaking unrelentlessly as he sits down. wincing when he feels the chair press up against the vibrator.

he was hyperaware how each movement causes the bullet to shift. soobin tries his best to reduce the friction and calm his erection down, but oh boy were you mean. just when he thinks he’s got it handled, you prove him wrong.

because the moment the teacher walked in, the torment began. you would periodically turn on the vibrator, making him jolt in his seat and hit his knee against his desk. alerting everyone to him as he lowers his head in embarrassment, whispering lightly that he was fine when the teacher asked. he came immediately with the stimulation. it was even worse when he was given a question to answer, you were unrelenting, turning it on to the highest setting and making his thighs shake uncontrollably. it took all his willpower and more to not burst out crying and moaning in the middle of class.

“choi soobin? soobin? soobin?”

he jolts from his daze, fists clenching painfully hard, nails digging into his palm. the teacher has been trying to get his attention for the past minute. a few students around him whisper and he quivers. glancing back at you for a second, catching your smug look, hands in your pockets; before he faces back at the teacher.

“mr choi, are you okay?”

no, he was not alright. he had busted into his pants for the 3rd time now and you weren’t even going to give him a break!

“yep, perfectly okay.”

the teacher looks doubtful and god soobin just wishes she would stop talking. he really shouldn’t be thinking like this about his favourite teacher. but please shut up and stop asking already!

“are you sure? you’ve looked uneasy this entire lesson.” and he wanted to dig a hole in the ground to die in shame. he bites his lips hard and you turn down the vibration. is this salvation? are you being nice for once?

“i’m sur —ck.” he bit down on his words, because if he didn’t he would’ve moaned in front of everyone in class. you turned it to the highest, and he really just came in his pants in front of the teacher. he was so overstimulated, it hurt to come, his whole body clenched hard so he could keep his trembling down.

thinking quick on his feet, he covered his stumble with coughing. “i — i may be sick.” he stammers, never has he been a good liar, and you snicker at his cover-up. the teacher however seemed to believe him, no reason to doubt the obedient straight A student after all.

“you should rest when you get home.”

☆★☆

class ends officially with the bell. the teacher dismisses the students with a quick reminder of the homework, not as if anyone was listening. soobin somehow managed to last through the whole class. and thank god was it the last class of the day, otherwise he might really have died. he slumps over his desk in a big sigh of relief. he would pack his things and rush out the door as soon as possible, but— he was afraid to even stand up and move. he didn’t want to look down at his crotch, he knew he had thoroughly soiled his pants and it probably leaked onto the seat.

you waited with him, putting every item extra slow into your bag. when the teacher had left the room, telling you two to lock the classroom behind you. that’s when you moved.

you stand in front of him, dangling the vibrator remote in his face. he fiddles with his fingers, unsure on what to say. at least you seemed happy?

“let’s see the mess you made.”

you slide him with his chair away from his desk, exposing his spread legs and like he thought, his crotch was wet with come. it was a terrible (and arousing) sight, there was a huge wet patch on his crotch and a small puddle on the wooden chair. he has never come this much before and you never overstimulated him this much either. all of this and you didn’t even touch or embrace him! you were so so so mean to him, and he felt tears fall again, his bunny eyes looking up at you in humiliation.

he was just so cute, you couldn’t help it. you wiped his tears with your sleeve, cooing at him.

“soobin, are you embarrassed?”

he nodded, beginning to whine as he sobbed more. embarrassed is an understatement, he felt so degraded. but it turned him on so much. he was starting to think he was masochistic, or maybe that’s just how downbad he was for you.

“you were so obedient, you want a reward? what reward do you want?”

you wipe each tear as it falls out, gently cradling his face. he pondered for a second, shaking his head.

“i don’t know…”

you chuckle, pulling him up and his legs shakes, you put his face in the crook of your neck and hugged his waist. he slumps over you and you rub his back. damn. this was comfortable, he never thought his bully would give a single shit about his feelings and you never thought you would ever comfort him.

why did you even bother to comfort him? it didn’t mean you tolerated him or anything. he was just cute that’s why you let him hug you, telling him he did a good job in his ear. there was no reason behind it, like how there was no reason behind you walking him back to your house, hand in his hand. (only because he was too jittery and wouldn’t stop shaking)

“lets go on a date tomorrow.” you deadpan. nothing behind those words, nope, nothing at all. just a reward for his good behaviour.

he looks at you with stupidly cute hopeful eyes, ignoring the uncomfortable squench in-between his thighs.

“you promise?”

“promise. you big baby.”

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ichorai · 29 days

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ties that bind ; nanami kento ; october 26th.

pairing ; nanami kento x reader

drabble synopsis ; nanami shows up to work smelling like you, and gojo has quite a keen sense of smell.

themes ; fluff, slice of life, established relationship (married)

warnings / includes ; more domestic vibes, nanami's Tired guys someone give him a vacation

series masterlist.

26th october, 2016

Nanami was having a long morning. Granted, the clock hadn’t even hit 9 AM yet, but he was already feeling particularly exhausted.

Possible reasons included, but were not limited to: the local bakery he usually went to for breakfast was out of his favorite kind of almond croissants, the vending machine that held his precious coffee outside of the school was out of order, forcing him to go forgo caffeine for the day, Principal Yaga informed him of an influx of village curses he needed to take care of since the school was currently short-handed on staff, and, finally, Gojo would just not stop pestering him.

The lanky, white-haired colleague of Nanami’s started off by sending roughly a dozen memes about a trendy topic he really had no interest in whatsoever. Then, when Gojo realized that Nanami had muted his messages when he no longer kept responding with: “Stop sending me these during work hours”, he took it upon himself to barge into his office and languidly splay himself across the couch situated opposite his desk and chair.

Perhaps the only saving grace of this morning, Nanami recalled, was waking up next to you—a sight he’d been blessed with for over a year now. You were still asleep when his alarm buzzed, though you mumbled something groggy and unintelligible under your breath. Knowing that you had a tiring day yesterday, your husband let you sleep for another five minutes while he slipped out from beneath the comforters to wash up. When he returned, you had curled up on his side of the bed, nose smothered into his pillow to inhale his scent. Nanami’s hand reached out to brush stray hairs away from your face, still slackened with sleepiness, but your eyes were cracked open into narrow slits.

“Hey, honey,” he whispered, voice soft as ever. “We’ve got work soon. Do you want me to drop you off?”

You worked at a local university quite close to home. Though curses weren’t particularly attracted to you, what with your easy-going and admiringly-positive demeanor, where you worked was a breeding ground for negative emotions. Stressed students and impatient professors always had universities crawling with curses of all sorts. Nanami never liked the idea of you working in such an environment.

“I think I’ll call in sick today,” you mumbled back, pushing yourself to sit up against the headboard with a lethargic wince. “I have a terrible headache… I think I might be coming down with a cold. I’ve just got to reschedule today’s lecture with the students for another day.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, brows kinking with worry as he moved to sit down next to you. “Do you need me to pick up anything for you from the pharmacy?”

“I’ll be okay,” you told him in a reassuring manner. A bright, but tired smile made its way onto your face when the back of his hand rested over your forehead to feel your temperature. He frowned in concern and pulled away—you were much warmer than usual.

Then, he dipped forward to press a chaste, but loving kiss right over your temple. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll make you some tea.”

“You should be getting to work, Kento—”

He made a dismissive noise, and got up to go fix you the warm drink, squeezing in some honey and lemon in case you had a sore throat, too. A few minutes later, he came back with the steaming mug, and a pack of unopened paracetamol he fetched from the kitchen drawers.

“Take one now, and another by lunchtime if you’re still feeling unwell,” he told you, his sharp features displaying nothing but raw concern.

“Yes, doc,” you said with a slight laugh and a salute. “I’ll be okay, honey, really. It’s just a little cold, but thank you for the tea. Now you go and get ready for work.”

Kento pursed his lips, kissed your head again, and rose from your side to go change into his professional attire. Even after all this time, he could feel a warm flush settling over his cheeks when you whistled in appreciation from the bed, clutching the mug of tea in between your palms with a grin.

“You look so handsome, Kento.”

“It’s the same thing I always wear.”

“My point stands,” you said, voice rife with mirth. He shot you a soft, appreciative smile.

In his haste to get ready and rush off to work, he accidentally spritzed himself with your perfume rather than his usual cologne. He didn’t mind all that much, anyway, because that meant he’d be able to smell you all day long, and hurried to gather the rest of his things.

“I love you, please send me a message if you need anything,” he said just as he was about to leave, thumb brushing just beneath your jaw.

“I will,” you reassured, one hand lifting away from the mug to take hold of his palm and tug the appendage upwards so you could kiss the inside of his wrist, right over his pulse. “Have a good day at work, hon.”

God, he loved you more than anything.

Now, with Nanami’s mind both burdened with thoughts of you being sick, and stressed over the new wave of village curses Yaga asked him to take care of, he hadn’t even noticed Gojo suddenly right at his side rather than ridiculously spreading out over the office’s couch.

“Ooh, Nanamin,” he said the fond nickname in a crude, high-pitched tone, and over-exaggerated sniffing at Nanami’s suit, “Who is this I’m smelling on you? Are you seeing someone behind my back?”

Nanami’s left eye twitched behind his spectacles. It was a relatively easy choice he made not to tell anyone at work about you. He very much preferred to keep work and personal life separate.

“It’s my new perfume,” Nanami bluntly said, expression remaining unamused.

“I didn’t take you for a floral-note kind of man,” Gojo crooned in response with a roguish grin. If he thought that Nanami was lying at all, he betrayed no signs of such. “I love it! What brand is it? Where’d you get it?”

“Get out of my office, Gojo.”

The blind-folded man snickered and rubbed his hands together. Nanami’s evident irritation only seemed to egg him on. “Didn’t Yaga tell you? I’m coming with you today! Apparently there’s been reports of a special-grade curse there. You’re going to need my help, you know.” Gojo prodded at Nanami’s biceps.

Nanami’s lips pinched tightly. “Perfect,” he gritted out.

It was only nine in the morning, but he already couldn’t wait to get back home to you.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fanfiction #nanami kento x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento ff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami fanfiction #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento drabbles #nanami kento imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff

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decks-writing-blog · 2 months

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Whatever the Fuck Benrey Is: Chapter Three: Feel Bad For Him

Chapter One: Never Stayed Dead

Previous Chapter: But You Owe Me

‘Sulky’ was the only way that could describe Benrey’s attitude. Short noncommittal answers were his only replies when Gordon asked him about this or that clothing item. And he didn’t say anything unprompted as he followed. He was utterly unhelpful in every way but he wasn’t being an active nuisance or wondering off again so it was preferable.

Gordon put up with it for as long as he could bear before giving up and just picking stuff out for Benrey without even bothering to ask. Probably because he was used to see Benrey in blue, he ended up picking out mostly blue and other cool coloured clothing. It would make the inhuman yellow he’d chosen for to put in his eyes pop but most people would likely assume he was wearing contacts. Anyone wearing such contacts would want them to stand out, thus making them less suspicious.

Blessedly after paying for everything, they were allowed into the changing rooms so they could spend the rest of their shopping trip in real clothing. Immediately Gordon felt better; he was clean, safe, and wearing proper clothing again at long last. And their group no longer stood out even a little, making the fear of anyone noticing them and asking too many questions much less potent.

As they set to grocery shopping, Benrey continued to sulk as he followed along at the back of the group. Apparently he was really upset about no one being willing to buy him a new PS3. As long as he was expressing that in sullenness and not trying to kill them though, Gordon didn’t care. Let the bastard be unhappy for once, he deserved it after all the misery he’d put Gordon through.

Without easy access to a fridge and the only means to cook anything being the microwave in the hotel’s cafeteria area, the kinds of food they could get were limited. But anything was better than living off of vending machine snacks and dead pigeon that was always undercooked in some places and burnt in others. Somehow though despite how much soda they’d drank during that same trip through hell, Gordon just barely managed to convince to not add it to the list here. They could spend their money how they wanted of course but packs of soda were always bulky and they had enough to carry already.

Luckily the walk back to the hotel wasn’t long even if it was uncomfortable carrying so many bags at the height of the day’s heat. Not so luckily though, upon inquiring at the front desk, there were no new rooms available. Gordon had to continue sharing with Benrey. Tempting as it was to complain to the receptionist or the rest of the Science Team again, he didn’t bother.

As soon as they were back in their room, Benrey dropped the bags Gordon had given him to carry and wondered over to flop face first down onto the bed. Ignoring him being the easiest thing to do, Gordon set to putting stuff away. Including Benrey’s clothing, not a job he should have to do but he wasn’t in the mood to start something. Their share of the groceries, he put some in the night stand, the rest he left put in a box next to it.

Once everything was put away, he sat in the chair and pulled the phone out of its cradle, resting it on his lap while he dialed. By some miracle he remembered his supervisor’s phone number after only a little bit of thought. As usual, because the asshole never picked up his phone, it inevitably went voice mail.

“Hey, if you’re not dead,” though there was a good chance he was, “it’s Gordon Freeman. As you probably know, stuff kinda exploded and went to hell during my last shift. So I’m calling because I don’t know if I technically still have a job at Black Mesa or not. So I’d like news on that as well as compensation since it was a workplace accident and all that. Also uh… I got a thing that I need help handling. I can’t talk about it over the phone because it’s sensitive company stuff,” and because Benrey, the exact thing he was talking about, was right there, “but it’s important. So get in touch soon.” He gave the hotel name and his room number before hanging up with a sigh.

Probably the guy was dead so he’d have to go further up the chain of command if he wanted any hope of getting confirmation on his job status, compensation for his suffering while on the job, and/or answers on what he was supposed to do with Benrey. Perhaps all the way up to Administrator Breen,himself. Normally he would’ve balked at such a thought but after everything he’d been through he’d run out of fucks to give.

Though the situation with the US military did make it a bit more complicated. They could threaten to turn him in if he tried to demand anything from the company. But then he could in turn threaten to spill the news of the incident to the public if they tried. Or heck, he’d taken part in plenty of top secret experiments even before this latest fiasco that he could threaten to reveal too. He didn’t currently have any proof of any of it – it had all been in his office or living space at the Black Mesa facility – but he could bluff and say he did. Perhaps he could even head down there to get that proof.

The thought of returning so soon sent a chill down his spine. But… it might be a smart idea. Everything should’ve calmed down by now both in terms of the aliens as well as the military. They could check to see if any of the possessions were salvageable and well, there might be survivors they could help. And if Gordon really did have to black mail the company to get them to compensate him and the rest of the team, having the means to actually do so before he even needed to threaten it would be helpful.

If they were going to go down there, the sooner, the better. … He didn’t want to though, not today. It was too soon, he needed some some time. Tomorrow would be better. If they heard nothing from Black Mesa by then, he’d talk to the others about renting a car and heading down there to see if there was anything to see. For now, he was done thinking about it.

Instead, he looked over at Benrey, still lying face down on the bed. It couldn’t possibly be comfortable but he didn’t seem inclined to move any time soon. “How long you planning to sulk for?” Talking to him might be a bad idea but the silence was too heavy.

Benrey’s response was so muffled by the pillow his face was pressed into, it was indecipherable. Gordon could just get up and leave him there, would be justified in doing so too, and go talk to the others instead. But Tommy had made a good point about all their fun stuff being gone or at least currently inaccessible. Fun stuff wasn’t necessary for survival but it was necessary for thriving and after everything they’d been through, fun distraction would not only be really damn nice but also much deserved.

Since starting college, Gordon hadn’t had as much time to play video games as he’d have liked. Getting hired at Black Mesa had given him a little more time since he lived and worked in the facility but he’d mostly been focused on work. They’d been working on some pretty cool projects after all… though they seemed less cool now. Getting lost in video games was more appealing of an concept than ever. And there were by far worse coping mechanisms he could be tempted to turn to if he resisted this one. Benrey being a gamer too meant he could kill two birds with one stone; fun distraction for himself and something to keep Benrey occupied and hopefully content enough to not cause more problems.

With a sigh, Gordon stood back up and put his shoes back on. “I’m about to head to the used game store, you wanna come with?”

For a moment it seemed Benrey hadn’t heard or wasn’t going to respond but after several seconds he twisted his neck to look up at Gordon. Far enough that it looked painful but he wasn’t human so he was probably fine. He opened his mouth but Gordon quickly cut him off before he could say something stupid.

“We’re getting an old, used, cheap console with old, used, cheap games, nothing new or expensive. I only got so much in savings. But I am willing to buy a couple games solely for you if it’ll keep you from being a nuisance and if you promise to behave. Understood?”

Benrey pushed himself up and was back to his feet in seconds. “Yeah, yeah, understood.”

“You promise to behave?”

“I promise to behave. Let’s go.” It was quick and Benrey was already starting for the door so it would have to be good enough for now.

Despite having made it clear that he was a Sony fanboy, Benrey was the one who suggested they get the Game Cube instead of the original Play Station because, “There’s more good games for it.” Which was true, the store’s selection of Game Cube games was almost twice as big as it’s Play Station section.

He was also the one to suggest they get multiplayer games. Gordon didn’t like the idea of playing games with him but after some thought he agreed that it was a good idea. Since they had to share the console, they were bound to end up fighting over it, having some games they could play together should mitigate that to some extent. Besides he did like the idea of occasionally playing with Tommy, Bubby, and Dr. Coomer if they desired to as well.

In all, the shopping trip was quick, easy, and Benrey was relatively well behaved the whole time. They walked away with a Game Cube, four controllers, two memory cards, a decent handful of games and three Beyblades from the toy box next to the cashier for less than a brand new PS3 would’ve cost. Gordon had checked to see if he could get Dr. Coomer a SNES and Super Punch Out but the latter wasn’t in stock so he put the idea on the shelf for later.

For now instead, during the walk back to the hotel he stopped by the 7/11 to get everyone their own two litter bottle of soda – all on brand, unlike the cheap stuff available at Black Mesa’s vending machines – and at Benrey’s suggestion a box of on brand candy too. It wasn’t much but he owed the Science Team his life so he wanted to do something at least kind of nice for them. Benrey got included solely because he was physically with Gordon at the time and well, he was feeling generous so why not?

“They got pizza too,” Benrey said as he bumped his shoulder into Gordon’s as he made his third and final trip to the counter – having only one real hand meant he couldn’t carry it all at once until it was bagged and Benrey’s arms were full with their game purchases, meaning he couldn’t help.

“Yeah, and?”

“Could get some… maybe?”

“What? No. Have you ever had 7/11 pizza?”

“Nope. This is my first time inside a real 7/11.”

Damn, another reminder that Benrey probably spent his whole life locked up inside Black Mesa. Gordon still refused to feel bad for him though. The world had been better and safer with Benrey contained. Now apparently it was Gordon’s job to prevent him from running amuck and causing untold chaos until he could get him to someone who could contain him again.

What were the pay rates for babysitting whatever the fuck Benrey was? Had to be pretty high, right? Between that and the compensation he was owed, he should be set for life. Maybe he really could retire and spend the rest of his life goofing off and playing video games online.

For now though, he finished putting the last of his purchase on the counter and said to Benrey, “Well, trust me, unless you’re high enough that you’re happy to eat literally anything, convenience store pizza is garbage. Like, it’s worse than frozen pizza.”

“Oh, no thanks then, frozen pizza’s pretty bad. It’s too cold and the plastic wrapping gets stuck your teeth, real uh… real awful. The cardboard ain’t bad but can’t save it.”

The cashier ringing everything up chuckled, clearly believing it to be a joke. Gordon wasn’t so sure. It was tempting to ask but he didn’t need to know and just laughed along instead because Benrey eating a frozen pizza straight out of the freezer, packaging and all, was a pretty funny mental image.

Upon returning to the hotel the first thing Gordon did was unload all the sodas and candy, much to the delight of the Science Team. Especially Tommy once the Beyblades were brought out for him too. Sunkist had apparently caught up and seemed excited too. Gordon would have to get her a bone or toy of some sort eventually. Which he would have to talk to Tommy about to ensure he got here something that wouldn’t be dangerous to her health if she had an allergy or whatever. That was for later though, for now he just wanted to go back to his own room and relax for a bit.

Even before Gordon was quite finished closing the door behind them, Benrey was off and starting to plug the Game Cube into the TV. Being an older console and an older TV, they were perfectly suited to each other. “Wanna play Melee?” Benrey asked as he turned towards Gordon, holding up the appropriate game box.

“Sure. Go easy on me though, I’m, uh, down a hand.” Later he was going to have to do some research on how difficult it would be to get or make a controller meant for use with a single hand.

“Of course, of course. Gotta go easy on the noobs otherwise they ain’t gonna wanna play anymore and then that’s no fun.”

Gordon could perhaps find reason to be annoyed with being called a noob but it had been a long time since he’d played the original Smash Bros back on the N64. Back when the Game Cube was new, he’d considered himself too cool for Nintendo. So this was his first time owning one and thus, he was a noob. Nothing wrong with that though.

***

Even when going as easy on Gordon as he could while still actively playing the game, beating him was almost trivial. Benrey had never even played Melee against real people before but Gordon took only slightly more effort to beat than the easy bots.

Normally Benrey would’ve teased him to hell and back for being so bad but he knew why Gordon was playing so poorly. Game Cube controllers were designed to be used with two hands. Gordon straddled his on his gun hand while awkwardly splaying his left hand over it. Technically he could press the buttons and move the analog stick at the same time but not with any degree of finesse.

If Benrey had known leading Gordon to the soldiers would result in him permanently losing a part of his body, he wouldn’t have done it. There was being bad because he’d been wronged – and so Gordon would pay more emotion-filled attention to him – and then there was his actions resulting in Gordon having only one functioning hand for the rest of his life.

“If humans don’t grow back cut off bits does that mean they also don’t, uh… come back when you kill them?” He eventually had to ask once he’d knocked Gordon down to his final stock for the third time.

“Nope. As a popular meme says, ‘people die when they are killed’. It’s permanent unless it’s the kind of thing a doctor can resuscitate someone from. That’s pretty rare though.”

“What about Bubby? He comes back when he dies and he’s human.” Or at least Benrey was pretty sure he counted as such.

“He does?”

“Bro, you saw him die at least like… twice, I think. He comes back.”

“Well… Bubby’s special. He was made in the lab so even if he is human, he’s got stuff going on that the rest of us don’t. Normal humans stay dead when they die and don’t grow back lost body parts. Heck, you injure us bad enough and we’ll be permanently fucked up because of it.”

“Damn. Your species don’t got much going on, huh?” And their little fight took on a whole new meaning. Benrey had thought they’d been mostly still chill even if they’d been actively trying to kill each other. But if death was permanent for humans that meant the nothingness between it and reformation would be permanent as well, right? Making trying to kill someone a much bigger deal than Benrey had thought.

“Hey, we got plenty going on, we’re just not immortal or whatever like… whatever the fuck you are. What even are you?”

Before answering, Benrey won the round. It was so easy it wasn’t as fun as it could’ve been. While the announcer claimed him the winner, he looked over at Gordon sitting on the chair next to him. “I’m not human.”

“Yes, we’ve established that but what are you?”

Benrey hadn’t considered that question in a long time and it had been even longer since he’d cared. “I don’t know.”

“What? How do you not know what you are?”

“Just don’t.” He was Benrey and he wasn’t human, what more mattered?

“They made you in the lab too, didn’t they?”

“Um… maybe. I’m not really sure. All I remember is the lab though so probably, I guess.”

Gordon was silent for a few seconds, his face full of thought before it scrunched up in sudden anger. “God fucking damn it!”

“Whoa bro, why you so angry?” Benrey wasn’t always great at telling what kinds of things would make people mad at him but he was pretty sure that that shouldn’t have. What did he know though? Sometimes people just got mad at him even when he didn’t intend for them to.

“I’m not… or I guess I am angry. But not at you and it doesn’t matter right now. Let’s just shut up and keep playing.” He turned his attention back onto the TV, pressing start to get them back to the character select screen.

After switching characters to Link – he had a sword so he was cool – Benrey rested his controller on his knee and bent his right arm around behind himself. Playing one handed was only fair, right?

Somehow Gordon didn’t seem to notice until he won the round and turned to look at Benrey again. Whatever he’d been going to say died on his lips and his eyes widened a bit surprise. “Oh, I guess that explains why you were playing so much worse suddenly. You don’t uh… don’t gotta do that for me.”

“Nah, beating you’s too easy, gotta even the playing field a bit to make it more fun.” And it had been more fun, certainly it meant he could put real effort in without it being a steamroll. He’d even lost that round, pretty handily too because Gordon had more one-handed practice at this than him, but it was only a matter of time before he got his mojo back. And then when he started winning again, he could tease Gordon for being bad.

“Oh, um… okay then, I ain’t gonna complain about that, thanks.” Gordon turned his attention back on the game and started the next round.

***

Gordon had been planning on not tolerating sharing the bed with Benrey again. He’d been intending to insist Benrey sleep on the floor or in one of the chairs. But then Benrey had inadvertently made Gordon feel bad for him. No wonder he was so fucked up and weird, he’d spent his entire life in the lab and didn’t even know if he was made in it or they’d just found him super young and kept him around to experiment on. Idiot didn’t even seem to understand how fucked up that was which just made it worse.

Bubby had a similar life story – though he at least seemed to understand that it was horrible to some degree – which largely had to do with why Gordon had forgiven him for his part in the betrayal. Just like he’d forgiven Dr. Coomer for the whole clones trying to kill him thing. Being part of or the product of an unethical science experiment was bound to result in acting out a little, being a little strange, and maybe not fully grasping the ethics and impact of one’s actions. And so Gordon should forgive Benrey too, shouldn’t he? He didn’t want to though.

And so after wrestling with the thought on and off for hours, reaching no conclusions, it was finally time to go to bed. He’d planned what he was going to say earlier at Target; ‘You’re sleeping on the floor tonight.’ A statement, not a request, brooking no room for argument. ‘You’re not human so you don’t need to sleep in a bed. Beds are for humans,’ if Benrey tried to argue. But even if he didn’t forgive and thus very much wanted to not share the bed with Benrey again, he did still feel bad. Bad enough that making Benrey sleep on the floor seemed too harsh and with no other options available, that meant sharing the bed again.

It was big enough for two people though, no cuddling or touching necessary if they stayed close enough to separate sides. Which would leave them close to the edges, perhaps more than Gordon preferred but not so close they’d for sure roll off. They were both full grown adults, they could handle sharing a bed without making it weird. But wait, Benrey wasn’t human so…

“You’re an adult, right?” Gordon asked as stepped out of the bathroom, wearing the pajamas he’d bought from himself earlier.

Benrey looked up from where he sat on the chair by the window. “Uh… why you asking?”

“Just you know, you’re not human so I figured maybe you’re in like a larval stage or something and you’re gonna one day make yourself a cocoon and transform into something more monstrous. Like how caterpillars turn into butterflies or whatever.” Or like he had in Xen but more permanent.

“Nah… I don’t think I can cocoon myself. Though I guess I’ve never thought about it before. I could try it.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t. I mostly just want to know if you’re a child or adolescent version of whatever you are. I’ve been assuming you’re an adult this whole time but like, I don’t even know what you are and neither do you apparently so I could be wrong.”

“I’m full-grown. Or uh… full-grown in that sense. I can physically grow bigger, just don’t want to.” Great so he had no excuse for acting like an immature little brat at times. Except he still did because he’d been raised in a lab as a science experiment. Probably no one had ever bothered to try to teach him how to behave and thus even now as an adult he had no idea how to properly interact with others. That didn’t mean Gordon had to like him or forgive him but it was another good reason be the bigger man and not let Benrey get under his skin anymore. And so…

“Good, great. That means we can both be mature adults about his sharing a bed situation. There doesn’t have to be anything weird or uncomfortable about it. We were too tired to discuss or even think about it last night so let’s do this now. You sleep on one side of the bed and I sleep on the other and we don’t touch, got it? I request the side closest to the door.” That way if anything tried to attack through the window, he could make a run for the exit. Though, probably an attack was more likely from the door so maybe window side was better. It’d be easier to get cornered there though so actually…

“Oh, I thought you liked touching.”

Gordon flinched out of his thoughts as he looked over at Benrey again. “What made you think that?”

“You slept in the middle last night.” He stood to walk over and point to said middle. “Made it hard to join you without touching so I thought you did it on purpose ‘cause you wanted to touch.”

“No, I just wasn’t thinking.” That at least explained why they’d woken up so close. “Sorry, I guess. But we’re on the same page now though, right? No touching.”

“Lame bro, that sucks. But fine, whatever, no touching.” He genuinely sounded disappointed.

“Why is that lame?” And should Gordon really ask? It was too late now though, his bad tendency to speak before thinking coming back to bite him again.

“You’re warm. It feels nice.”

Oh, that wasn’t so bad. A bit weird but not anything super creepy like Gordon had feared. “All right, uh… good night then.” He turned off the lights and got into bed, staying just far enough way from the edge for there to be only little danger of rolling off in the middle of the night.

Chapter Four:

#hlvrai #frenrey #hlvrai gordon #benrey

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yuriwritestwst · 2 years

Text

You’re the new manager to Night Raven College’s basketball team, and Ace is the wannabe-star player who takes an immediate liking to you.

Notes: Ace Trappola x GN!reader, actual university AU, light cussing, not actually that much on basketball or university

The first time the two of you meet is when Coach Vargas blows a piercing whistle amidst the squeaking of sneakers against the pristine gym floor. He promptly introduces you as the new team manager, a position you volunteered yourself for after deciding that you needed a resume buffer despite not knowing the first thing to basketball. It’ll be easy, you told yourself. All you had to do was refill water bottles and fetch stray balls, just like how they did it on TV shows.

The team makes its way through their very brief introductions, and you’re 100% sure you don’t retain a single name, much to your dismay.

“Ace Trappola!” someone says, flashing you a grin. Awkwardly, you return his smile. “I’m just a first year, but you’ll be seeing me a lot on court when I become a regular!”

“Crabby, I can’t believe you’d just lie to someone you’ve just met,” a taller guy drawls out. His teeth are alarmingly sharp, you note.

“I don’t want to hear that from you, Floyd,” Jamil, the vice-captain, hisses. “I’m sorry about those two.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m a first year too,” and before Floyd can snap back with a witty response about how awful it must be to be in the same year as Ace, the ginger is next to you with a heavy arm resting on the top of your shoulders.

“Finally!” Ace sighs in exasperation. “A first year comrade! I can already tell we’re gonna be best friends.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Jamil warns, swatting Ace’s arm off of you. “He’s just going to ask to copy off your homework eventually. I think it might be better for you to ignore him completely, actually.”

“Hey, rude!” Ace retorts back. “And for the record, I am actually glad that we have another first year on the team.”

“Yeah, okay Crabby, let’s get you back to practice,” Floyd coos playfully before violently shoving Ace back onto the court and turning to you with a devilish glint in his eyes. “I sure enjoy some friendly hazing.”

“Floyd,” Jamil warns again, eyes narrowing. “I know this team has some odd guys, but they aren’t actually bad people. I hope they haven’t scared you off, because we really need a manager this year.”

“Do you mind giving me the run down again?” you ask nervously, suddenly feeling more pressure than when you haphazardly submitted your application. “I’m not really too familiar with…well…”

“That won’t be a problem at all,” Jamil replies, smiling. “We can start with the storage room.”

By the end of the first practice with you as the manager, you find yourself rolling a cart filled with basketballs back to the storage room. It’s crowded, and despite Jamil’s best efforts showing you where everything is, you still have trouble naming exactly where and what most of the stuff is used for.

“Boo,” a familiar voice says from next to you, and you suddenly feeling something cold and wet on your cheek. You let out a yelp and reach for your face.

“You scared me!” you yell a bit louder than you would’ve liked. You only met this guy about three hours ago, but you’re already starting to treat him like a thorn on your side.

“My bad, my bad,” he laughs, not apologetic at all. Instead, he takes the cool bottle off your face. “Here. I accidentally got two from the vending machine.”

“Thanks,” your murmur hesitantly and wonder how “easy” it must have been for him to accidentally feed the machine twice for an extra drink. “I guess you actually are as clumsy as Jamil said.”

“Damn, I can’t believe he was talking shit behind my back again,” and from the way Ace says it, you figure he’s probably the thorn in a lot of people’s sides.

“Good work today?” you try, changing the subject. “Well, not that I know much about basketball in the first place.”

“Then the first thing I should teach you is that my work is always good,” Ace says proudly, chest puffed out. His pride is enough to convince you that it’s nothing more than an exaggeration. “But, man, I can’t believe you’re not a basketball nerd.”

“And I can’t believe Coach Vargas was fine with that.”

“Well, you know what this means, don’t you?” Ace asks with a eerily mischievous grin. You shoot him a look that tells him something like, this is going to end terribly, but he ignores it. “Oh, you’re gonna be so busy with me watching old game recordings. I’ll show you all the ropes.”

“Forget about the rules, and just tell me where this cart goes first,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Just leave it here. Somebody’s gonna find this thing.” He unceremoniously rolls the cart into a wall, leading to a clunk, and you’re scared you’re going to get kicked from the team after one day. As usual, he’s not nearly concerned as you and simply slings his arm around your shoulders like he did earlier today. “Now, let’s go already.”

“You’re awfully pushy even though we met today for maybe ten minutes max,” you scoff. Still, you take his lead, albeit a little hesitantly. It wouldn’t be too awful to understand the game you were supposed to manage. Plus, even if he was annoying to no end, he didn’t seem like he meant any harm.

“I’m telling you, us first years have to stick together. We’re gonna be best buds by tomorrow morning.” Suddenly, you find that his grin isn’t all that teeth grinding. “Oh, and I was wondering if you’re also taking Intro to Chem 1, because there’s this assignment due tonight that I haven’t started and-“

“You stink,” you say pointedly, shoving his arm off your shoulder and start speed walking ahead of him.

“I was just kidding!” he calls from behind you, and you have to stifle the laugh that threatens to spill from your mouth.

Floyd being the world’s most reckless player brings about good and bad things, most of these being bad except for the fact that you were almost never bored. Yes, it was always fun to watch the lanky boy defend the ball with his life, even if it meant him rolling all over the floor for no other reason than the fact that he found the horrified reactions of others amusing, but this also meant far more injuries than you expected. Typically, they were never Floyd’s though.

“Damn, you’d think you’d get the hang of this after what? The third finger Floyd’s jammed this week?” Ace comments from your side during a small break. It was only Tuesday.

“Look, there’s only so much I can learn from watching a Youtube video.” You don’t even have time to roll your eyes, because you’re too busy trying to tape and splint a third year’s finger after Floyd had all but hurled the ball at him without enough warning. “There! This should be good enough until you reach the nurse’s office.”

The third year, assisted by his friend, nods, gives thanks, and makes his way out of the gym. Meanwhile, Ace makes himself comfortable by leaning against you, much to your dismay.

“For the last time, you’re super sweaty and gross,” you groan, wanting to smack the ginger square across the face. You try your best, but per usual, you can’t lose him. He sticks his hand out in front of you. “What?”

“For practice,” he says simply, tilting his head toward the direction that the third year just left in. “A splint like that won’t help anybody. ‘Specially if we’re at an away game.”

“Oh, and you’re suddenly a finger taping master?” This time, you do roll your eyes. In fact, you flick his forehead good and hard for extra measure.

“Uh, no, but I’m not afraid to tell you when it’s sloppy and when it’s not,” he responds as if it’s the obvious. He moves the hand that he placed in front of you around, urgent. “Come on, there’s only five minutes of break left.”

“If i practice on you, will you please get your sweaty head off my shoulder?” Immediately, he’s off and looking at you eagerly. In fact, he looks like he’s practically shining, and you almost forget that he’s the same guy who covered you in sweat two seconds ago. “One smart-ass comment from you and I’m breaking your fingers for real.”

Carefully, you take his index finger and middle finger together, to which he responds with a dramatized grunt of fake pain, and apply the tape around them. It’s weird, you think, oddly conscious of the fact now that his hand is in yours. He’s always been a physically and casually intimate person with you and his teammates alike, but something about this you find fundamentally different. Even through the tape, you feel his warmth searing through. Or maybe it was you who was warm. That’d be embarrassing.

Working your way up to his finger pads, your thumb subconsciously grazes against them, and you swear he stiffens. When you look at him, however, he’s busy looking at his own hand, expression unreadable.

“What?” you ask, grin spreading across your face. “Actually scared that I’m gonna break your fingers?”

“As if you’d injure the team’s star,” he fires back, also grinning.

“Tell me that when you’re actually a starter.”

“It’ll happen before you’ll learn how to properly splint a finger,” and before you can ask him what he means, because you’re so sure that you’ve done a decent job, he manages to loosen the tape on his own, two fingers bending freely to hook around the fingers of your hand that hovers above his. You almost stop breathing, but neither of you make an effort to pull away.

“See?” he says, the cockiness still laced in his voice. To make a bigger statement, you feel his fingers move to the back of your hand, drawing shapes. It’s only now that you realize along with his feather-light touches, he’s looking at your face with such intensity, as if he’d pull away the moment you show any signs of discomfort. Again, you’re not sure if it’s his fingers that are burning or if it’s you, but the gym is a lot more stuffy than before.

“Alright, back to practice!” Vargas booms. You jolt, and Ace laughs.

“You should practice more,” Ace says, standing up to get back on the court. “Just give me a call, and I’ll be there.”

And for some reason, you listen to him and continue to practice in the following days even when you get the hang of it. Neither of you suggest to stop, even months well into your first year on the team.

Ace finally makes it as a season regular by the time his second year rolls around, which means he’s always on the bus with you during away games.

(“Why are you going but not me?” he’d used to whine after team practice. It had become a habit for him to do a little bit more solo practice each day, with you in tow to grab the stray balls much to your dismay.

“Well, I’m the team manager for starters, and you’re just some guy.”

“Just you wait. You’re never gonna be free from me when I become a regular.”)

You come to hate away games very early on, though, because not only are you the one helping haul bags of supplies and water bottles, but you also realize that if a game is scheduled to end at 9:00 PM, you’d end up home at 11:00 PM if everything went smoothly.

Thankfully, though, the bus rides back are always quiet simply for the fact that everyone is just so exhausted, and after tonight’s game against Royal Sword University about two hours away, that was exactly the case. Aside from the quiet munching from some players who were smart enough to bring their own post-game food, most people were sleeping the soreness and hunger off. This included Ace, of course, as he was your designated seat buddy. Not that there were assigned seats, just best friend code as Ace had put it.

So here he was, snoring away on your shoulder, and while he’s been resting on you since the beginning of time, what’s new is the grip he has around your wrist. It’s loose enough for you to wiggle out of his grasp, but still firm. His hands are incredibly calloused, and you know this from the countless times you’ve seen them through splinting his fingers, but something about them against your skin in absolute silence makes you feel ticklish. Giddy, even.

Eventually, his hair starts to actually tickle you, forcing your hand to brush the stray locks away. If only you had scissors, because no matter what you did, nothing helped. Rather, after a few minutes of musing with his hair, Ace shifts in his sleep, and you think you might’ve woken him up. He doesn’t, thankfully, but even in his subconsciousness, he takes a liking to the attention you’re giving him and nuzzles into the hand that you’ve placed on his head in the midst of your ministrations. It’s almost endearing if it weren’t for the fact that you were basically trapped in your spot now.

“Hey, Goldfishie,” a sing-song voice calls. Oh no. “Do you have any snacks in your bag? I’m just so hungry that I could eat about— Oh.”

You nearly jump in horror, hands flying out of both Ace’s hair and his grasp as Floyd peers into the aisle you and Ace were in before a shit-eating grin spreads across his face. He’s technically your senior, but you want to hit him so bad.

“Never mind,” Floyd mumbles, spinning on his heel to the back of the bus where his seat was. Floyd typically never kept to one seat per ride, but he always found himself in the back messing with Jamil, and you just know that he’s telling everybody what he saw on his very slow journey there.

You sigh, groaning into your hands, and you’re not sure why you’re so embarrassed.

“Damn, way to wake a guy up,” Ace mutters from next to you. He yawns and stretches his neck before sinking back into the bus seat. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought I was getting mugged or something.”

“And I should’ve let you get mugged by Floyd,” you hiss.

“Damn, if you’re this cranky, maybe you should be taking a nap too.” He checks the time on his phone. “We have an hour left anyways.”

“No, I’d rather not risk getting my face drawn over with marker,” you say pointedly, and Ace feigns hurt.

“I can’t believe you’d say something like that,” he gasps, mock shock, even though he, along with everybody on the bus, knows that it’s something he’d definitely do. “Come on, it wouldn’t hurt to get some shut eye.”

There’s an arm rest that separates the two seats which he quickly raises. You feel his arms pull you into him, hand gently pressed on your head once he positions you comfortably against himself. Your heart is bounding a thousand miles per minute, and you’re thankful that the bus is dark enough so that he can’t see your entire face flush all the way to the tips of your ears.

“What are you doing?” you ask rather dumbly. His laugh seems to resonate through his chest and into your ears.

“Consider it…returning the favor?” You want to scream.

“You were awake that entire time?”

“Well, not the entire time, but I was awake for long enough.” He coughs. “And for the record, you sure were moving around a ton.”

“Was not,” you mutter under your breath. “Why didn’t you move away then?”

He pauses. It’s a long silence.

“Just go to sleep already so that I can take my nap without having you wake me up again,” he grumbles. You try to pester him, but he closes his eyes, and even though you know he’s still awake, he stops responding. All you can do is sigh and give in to how oddly relaxing your current position is before dozing off.

And of course, you wake up to the click of a phone camera and Floyd’s cackle. Yes, he meant for you both to hear it.

Manager duty, as you have found out long ago, doesn’t mean manager mode during just club activities but also during your own free time too, which is why you find yourself in Ace’s grasp as he drags you down the mall on a fine Saturday afternoon.

“Do you really need me to be here for you to go shoe shopping?” you ask, already tired. “I wanted to study for one of my exams next week.”

“You have to take it easy once in a while, and I’m the one who’s gonna help you do that.”

“Says the guy who almost failed his way out of club activities,” you groan, recalling the midnight emergency cram session Jamil held out of sheer panic that they’d lose a regular right before the season started. “You should be glad that Jamil is the new captain.”

“I mean, I was close to failing, yeah, but I knew I wouldn’t actually,” Ace corrects very matter-of-factly. “And anyways, stop lecturing me about school. You’re supposed to help me pick out new sneakers today. You’ve seen Floyd’s new ones, right? I have to keep up or else I’ll look lame on the court.”

“I’ve seen his new ones, and I also remember him telling me that they cost way more than whatever budget you have in mind today.” You snicker a little at Ace’s frustration.

“Don’t worry. There’s no way I’m leaving without a new pair today,” he promises, swears even. You hate the grin he’s wearing.

“Ace Trappola, I do not care if this is best friend code or not,” you start, tone warning. “I will not be committing theft with you even if you cry to me.”

“Relax, relax!” he calms. “Promise we won’t do anything illegal. Just trust me.”

And even though you’re still suspicious of him, you just follow him into a Foot Locker where he all but drools over the highest priced, neon shoes. In your opinion, they’re a disaster to look at, but to each their own you suppose.

“What do you think about these babes?” Ace asks, and you want to hurl at what he shows you. “I’ve had my eye on them for a while now, you know?”

“Then just get it over with so that I can go home.” He frowns this time. “What? I mean, yeah, I love them so much. They look so good that I might go back on my statement on theft and steal them from you after you buy them.”

“Really?” He brightens immediately. “Then you should get these instead of me.”

“Absolutely not.” You’re so horrified that you can’t even lie about wearing them yourself, and judging by the knowing smirk he gives you, even he knows he’s caught you.

“Then maybe you should be a little more serious about my game fashion,” Ace sighs. “I need to look good for our team Instagram.”

“Your current sneakers are still fine though,” you try again, desperate.

“Well, Floyd said he was able to jump two feet higher in his new ones, so I figured if I bought the same brand, I’d be able to do some pretty sick slam dunks.” No matter what, Floyd always got Ace to believe his ridiculous lies.

“Fine, but can we leave if I pick one out?” You’re almost pleading at this point.

“Promise!”

So your eyes scan over all the shoes in the store, and while you can’t say you knew much about proper basketball footwear, you do find a design you like. It’s not particularly flashy like Floyd’s but it was still colorful enough to stand out on its own. Plus, the orange matched Ace’s hair.

“This one,” you say finally, handing him the pair you like. His immediate purchase without even trying them on makes you think he’s willing to buy just about anything so long as the brand was good, but you see him wearing those sneakers way more frequently than usual. He even wore them to class, which was unusual for Ace seeing as he always wanted to protect his basketball shoes from the daily wear and tear.

“Aren’t you gonna buy a new pair?” you ask him off-handedly months later over lunch.

“What, why?” you make out through his burger-filled mouth. He swallows. “They’re fine.”

You didn’t have to because you see him at practice every day, but you look under the table at his tattered sneakers and then back up at him to make a point.

“Ace, it looks like a dog chewed them up and then pissed all over,” you sigh. “Plus, you usually buy new ones if there’s so much as a tiny scratch.”

“I do not,” Ace says, playfully kicking you under the table. “These are fine. Plus, I’ve been making more three-pointers with these on, so there’s no way I’m trashing my good luck charm.”

“I can see it already,” you muse. “The next school paper is going to have the headline ‘Ace Trappola Scores with his Pissed-On Sneakers During Game’. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Trappola.”

“Well, if I make it to the front cover, people are gonna be busy swooning over my perfect form instead of shoes,” he corrects. “But, if you really are gonna make such a big deal out of this, then you’re just gonna have to pick out a new pair for me.”

“What, why?”

“I might buy those neon ones that you hate so much, and you’re gonna see them every day for the next few weeks at least. But to be honest, I might like having you disgusted at them so much that I’ll just keep buying the same pair over and over-“

“Fine, I get it,” you huff. Ace smiles from across the table and flips out his phone.

“So what about this weekend?” he asks, and even though it shouldn’t take the entire day, he urges you to clear your schedule, because what if you two have too much fun and lose track of time?

You only sigh again, but you don’t doubt him.

“You see that?” Ace says, pointing at the tablet screen. The video is paused, and you see him picking out one of the new first years. “I was the one who taught him how to jump like that.”

“Sure you did,” you say, mindlessly looking through clips of the team scheduled for next week’s game and taking brief notes.

“And him over here,” Ace points excitedly. “He couldn’t do a proper lay-up until our drills from Monday. Pretty good, right?”

You decide to shift your position at this, turning over to face the back of his head as he sits on the floor leaning on the bedside. He hears your rustle when you do this and looks behind him.

“Looking pretty relaxed there, Manager,” Ace fake-chides. “Like you might fall asleep in the middle of analyzing plays right before play-offs.”

“You’re so right about that,” you grin, eyelids feeling heavy as he peers at you. “I don’t know. Something about your bed just makes me so sleepy.”

“And if you fall asleep here, where am I supposed to go?”

“The floor.”

“You’re in my apartment!” he yells. “There’s no way I’m sleeping on the floor when I literally live here. You can go home and sleep. After we finish watching these plays, of course.”

“Yes, Captain,” you tease, faking a salute. “To think you ended up like this even though you were all talk when we were first years.”

“And you’re rude like usual.” He sighs, pressing a finger to your cheek. After all these years of his antics, you don’t even bother to react. “Don’t you want to make it to nationals this year?”

“I’ve wanted to go to nationals every year, actually,” you correct, but when he starts pouting, you add, “but I guess especially this year, since it’s our last.”

“That’s the spirit!” Ace hollers with a toothy smile. “And if, no, when we win, we’re gonna be so famous. Trust me.”

“I don’t think that includes me though,” you chuckle, making Ace frown. “I’m just a manager.”

“Well yeah, you’re not exactly a player, but you’re kinda really important, you know?” And of course you know, because he hasn’t stopped saying that to you in all these years. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” He nods dutifully, pleased that his almost-daily reminder is conveyed. “Kinda sucks that I don’t even get a participation medal, though.”

“Since when were you interested in prizes?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “I thought that was a me thing.”

“Since now,” you say playfully. “In fact, I think you owe me a prize right now, right here.”

“But we haven’t event started play-offs yet,” Ace teases knowingly. “Well, I suppose as the captain of this team, I should be providing motivation for all our members, manager included.”

“You’re so right,” you murmur, feeling his hand caress your cheek. He closes the gap between the two of you, lips pressed firmly against yours. It’s electric no matter how many times he’s done it, and you’re met with the same hunger every time. You hated to admit it but Ace Trappola knew what he was doing.

“Is that enough compensation?” he asks, finally pulling away, breathless.

“I feel like I deserve more than one kiss after being manager for so long,” you sigh, pretending to be upset.

“Well, you see, I’m just awfully busy with captain duties and all so-“

You don’t let him finish, pulling him by the collar and claiming your reward again and again. Not that he minded in the slightest.

(“Is this part of best friend code?” you tease after he gives up reviewing plays and opts to snuggle with you on his bed.

“It’s boyfriend code,” he corrects pointedly.

“I don’t know,” you respond, pretending to think. “You were pretty touchy when you were just my best friend too, though.”

“Then let me help you differentiate the two.”)

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst x reader #twst wonderland #twst #twst ace #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #university au #basketball au

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staticscreenwriting · 1 year

Text

maybe the night would take me home II Frankie Morales

Part 1 : "Divorce And The American South" & "The Thunderbird Inn"

a Frankie Morales Story inspired by the album "We Don't Have Each Other" by Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties.

A/N : This imagine series will deal with sensitive topics please see my tags for TW. Please proceed with caution. Also there’s mention of smoking and alcohol. English is not my native language, go easy on me please. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated

There's a hole in the wall and a square where the wallpaper is a lighter shade of beige than the rest. There probably used to be a painting or a mirror. The ceiling fan is missing one of its blades and there's a huge rip in the ugly brown curtain that's blocking the street lights from flooding the room.

He can just about make out the glow coming from the street light in front of his window. There used to be more color permeating the thin curtains and throwing kaleidoscope patterns into his motel room but people have started to take down their Christmas lights leaving him with just the ugly yellow of the street lamp.

The motel room is dull and gray and hopeless and broken and ugly and Frankie thinks it's fitting because that's exactly how he feels and really, he doesn’t mind it all that much.

The clerk at the front desk, he wants to say his name is Steve, is nice, and always pours him a cup of coffee whenever he finds Frankie sitting in the tiny lobby area of the Motel where the vending machines are. The coffee isn’t good but it’s warm and that’s enough these days.

“Long night?” he asks and every time Frankie nods and says “Sure has been.” Steve then grants him one of those smiles that lets you know the person is looking straight through your lie but they’re way too nice to call you out on your bullshit.

“Well, tomorrow’s a new day. Hope that one is better,” he replies, every time.

Frankie nods again knowing full well it won’t be.

He’s given Frankie a break on the rent this week.

“Look don’t you worry about it. Just make sure you pay me back with next week’s rent. I know you’re good for it.”

“I probably am.”

Steve was laughing then. He probably won’t laugh when he hears that Frankie’s coming up short again this week.

Back in his tiny motel room, his clammy hands grab the room's phone tightly. It will probably cost him a fortune to use it — again — though after throwing it against a solid brick wall, his cell phone is but a piece of junk left somewhere by the side of the truck stop.

He doesn't really need it anyway. Too many pictures and memories and shit he doesn't want to think about because he can’t get it back.

He takes another sip from the bottle. He thinks it's whiskey but he might be wrong. It all tastes the same these days.

Calling her won’t do any good and he knows but he can't help himself. It's like an itch that he just has to scratch. It's like a desperate need that he has to satisfy. It's like an addiction he has to feed.

It's 2 in the morning and she's most likely asleep and Frankie hates himself for waking her up. She's lost enough sleep as it is. But his mind is so loud and he needs to get all of these things off his chest. All the things he didn't say when he should have, when it counted, when it meant something, when she needed him to.

It's not the first time he's called either. He wonders if she'll ever pick up.

There's a perfectly clear picture burned into his mind of the first time he'd called her after he left. He had been stranded at some run-down truck stop that could've been the perfect location for the first kill in a horror movie. There was a bottle of water in his hand and the phone receiver in the other.

He can't recall how long he'd spent inside the phone booth reading her number out loud and trying to work up the courage to call her but he knows it's been quite a while. And when he did he was met with the dial tone. With every beep his heart sunk a little further, felt a little heavier.

" Hello this is Y/N, I can't pick up the phone right now but feel free to leave a message after the tone and I'll ring you back. Ok, bye. "

Her voice sounded so cheery and he remembers the tears threatening to leave his eyes at the sound of it. She hadn't sounded this cheery in a long long time and his heart broke knowing that was partially his fault.

" Hey Y/N, It's me .... Frankie. If you’re listening can you please pick up the phone? I know you're home. "

He could still recall her daily schedule better than anything, after all, they had been living together for years.

" I know where I went wrong. I really do. I uh— I'm at a truck stop. Not sure where I'm going yet but I'll call you. Please talk to me, baby. I love you. "

He remembers his heart breaking and breaking more and shattering and it hasn't been fixed yet. There's that little cynical corner of his brain that tells him it never will be fixed. All good things come to an end sooner or later and this is THE good thing in his life. She is the best thing. She was the chance he never thought he’d get. A shot at redemption.

That other day he found a bar just outside the township line. He goes most every night now whenever he can feel a bad night coming. All nights are bad nights now. The floors are sticky and the bar is dusty but the drinks are cheap and the barkeeper doesn’t bother to get him tangled up in any kind of conversation. All Frankie gets is a look of pity as he pours him another drink. Fuck, he didn’t know that he looks that pathetic.

The alcohol doesn’t numb his heart the way it used to. Back when he woke up in a cold sweat with visions of a life he tried so hard to leave behind he could always count on the inside of a bottle to make the demons disappear for a while. Then when that stopped working, the drugs managed to do it.

And then when he hit rock bottom, for some inexplicable reason, life chose to send him her and she made every other coping mechanism pale in comparison. Her love did not make the demons go away, or the fear, or the guilt. Her love made him realize that he could live a good life regardless. That even the worst parts of him are worthy of love.

He thinks she might’ve been wrong.

There's a half-empty pack of cigarettes laying on the nightstand. He hasn't touched them for a while. Got them at that same truck stop where he smashed his phone but only smoked half a pack before he remembered that promise he made her a long time ago, back when she had first told him, back when they were happy.

And he failed. Because for a while he’d felt like the reason he stopped smoking in the first place had vanished. If there was no one to promise something to, was there even a promise to begin with?

The cigarettes bring back memories of the second time he'd called her. It was right after he arrived here, at this very same motel. With the very same peeling wallpaper and the chipped door and the ceiling fan that is missing one blade and the carpet with the burn marks. The same motel he is basically succumbing in right now.

He was less nervous the second time he'd called her, less nervous but more fucked up. Half drunk on cheap whiskey and half drunk on the infinite sadness he's felt ever since their life went to shit.

This time he didn't make himself believe she'd pick up. He knew she wouldn't and maybe that was a good thing. Frankie didn't want her to know he was shitfaced, that he tried to numb the pain with past vices he promised to leave behind.

" Hey Y/N "

As the words rolled off his lips there was no doubt in his mind that she'd still know. He sounded drunk. He hated it.

" Just wanted to tell you that uh — I uh I've been trying to quit. I went from a pack and a half a day to this e-cigarette bullshit. "

It had been a stupid idea, thinking this e-cigarette shit would do anything for him but it was worth a try. Everything was worth a try for her.

" It stops the coughing fits. I know that you always hated my smoking habit. I hope you can be a little proud of me. I know I don't deserve it. I love you, bye."

There was a time, Frankie thinks and scoffs, when he thought love was enough. What a fool he'd been. Now he knows that's all proper bullshit.

It isn't like he doesn't love her, he loves her entirely too much for his own good.

It's that too much love can destroy you. It eats you up from the inside out.

He can't keep himself from loving her though, and from holding onto that little spark of hope that she might still love him back. After all they've been through, all they had to endure, the thought that she might one day forgive him and love him again was the only thing still keeping him afloat. Without her, he'd sink. And maybe, he thinks, maybe love is enough. It's enough to make him go on.

There's a fly buzzing around the room, sitting down on Frankie’s arm from time to time. He doesn't have the energy to swat her away.

A little voice in his mind wonders what would happen if he just kept laying here. Maybe if he only lays here long enough, maybe the bugs will eat him alive. Maybe the night will swallow him and take him home. Maybe she’ll come looking for him.

His mind wanders off to places he tried hard to forget. To the tears and the pain and the way she didn't yell at him. Not once.

She didn't scream or yell or throw stuff at him. She just stared and let it all wash over her as if she was invincible.

He knew she wasn't. Knows she isn’t now. She wasn't invincible but she was too deeply wounded to care anymore and that was the most terrifying part of it all.

He wanted her to yell so he knew she still cared.

He thinks of the dream and how he saw himself, lifeless, alone. How everyone was looking at him as they lowered his casket into the ground. How his friends were there, his brother, his family, and even the neighbors. Not her though. She wasn't there.

His fingers are dialing the familiar numbers before he can even fully register what's happening.

There's the dial tone that he's grown to know so well lately. Three more and he gets to hear her voice.

Two.

One.

" Hello this is Y/N, I can't pick up the phone right now but feel free to leave a message after the tone and I'll ring you back. Ok, bye. "

Lies. She won’t call back. But that's okay, he understands why she doesn’t. Why she can’t.

" Y/N It's me again. Frankie. "

He combs his fingers through his hair nervously.

" Of course, it's me, who else would call you at this time? I'm sorry. "

He's been saying sorry an awful lot lately. Especially considering the fact that he hasn't been very generous with that word when it really mattered.

" I had a dream. About you. Well not exactly about you. Actually, you weren't in it and that's kind of the problem. "

Remembering the dream sends a cold shiver down his back.

" I uh — I was on a plane. I flew back north, no idea where I wanted to go. All I know is that I didn't make it there. Plane went down like it was made of paper. They were all at the funeral. My funeral. Everyone. Not you though. You — You weren't there Y/N. That scares me. I hope you'd come to the funeral. I'd want you there. "

He knows it's time. She's not gonna pick up anytime soon so this might be his only chance of ever getting to admit his faults of ever talking about the actual problem, the root of all the pain and heartbreak. It's not face-to-face but it's the next best thing. It's his only shot.

" Y/N, I know I fucked up. I do know. It's just after it happened. After — "

Saying it out loud will make it real. It will break his heart once again. He's an adult though and has been running from his issues long enough. This stupid urge to flee made this all so much worse.

Take a breath.

And face the reality.

" After it happened. When we lost the baby I just, I shut off. I shut you out and I am so sorry. I just, I needed to be strong for you but I wasn't. All I did was push you away. I never listened. I wasn't there. I should've been there for you to help you get through this but I was too busy keeping myself from bursting at the seams. Fuck, I was so selfish. If I could change the way I treated you, treated the situation, trust me I would. I would. I miss her so much Y/N and I never even got to meet her and I didn't want to put this all-consuming sadness on you so I pulled away. I didn't want to make you hurt even more than you already were but that's exactly what I did and I will never forgive myself for that. I hope you can though. I love you so much. "

There's a hole in his chest the size of a newborn.

It's the size of a little baby girl he never got to meet. A little baby girl he always imagined would have his eyes and her mother's breathtaking smile. A little baby girl he'd raise to be brave and generous and smart and wonderful.

There is a hole in his chest the size of a little baby girl and he knows it will never fully heal.

He should've been there for her, his wife, the mother of his child. He had tried so hard, so hard to hide his sadness and pain from her instead of embracing it with her by his side. He should've been there with her so they could hold each other above the waters. But he let her drown by herself and he would never fully forgive himself for that.

" I love you Y/N and I'm coming home soon I promise. That's if you still want to see me. I won't let you go through the darkness alone anymore though. I love you. "

He hangs up the phone and without a warning, the tears roll down his cheeks. They're the silent kind, the painful kind. But for once, since it all happened they're not entirely from sadness, a small part of him is feeling a little lighter now that he's faced reality. A small part of him cries tears of relief. A small part of him still believes that maybe things with his wife can work out again if only he can show her how much he cares and loves her. That he can hold her hand even through the darkest of times.

A small part of him knows that it can't get worse than this.

A small part of him, a small part knows she loves him back. Even with that gray cloud hanging over him reminding him of the paperwork that might be waiting for him at home.

is dull and gray and hopeless and broken and ugly and Frankie thinks that things can only get better from here on out.

It’s 2am when he sneaks out of his room and past the lobby. Steve will forgive him, he’s sure of it. For the two weeks' rent and for not saying goodbye.

The world is fast asleep as his car takes him down the empty streets towards the bar he found some resemblance of comfort in for the last few weeks.

One last drink, he tells himself. But this one won’t be for the bad days ahead. This one will mark a page turned, a step taken.

“Whiskey?” the barkeeper inquires, already pulling the bottle from the shelf.

“Gimme a beer instead. Whatever bottles you have in the fridge is fine.”

No more words are exchanged as the barkeeper hands Frankie the cold bottle.

This one’s for the daughter he’ll never meet, he thinks, and the wife who shouldn’t love him no more but god does he hope and pray she still does. Even when he doesn’t deserve it.

He’s got half a tank of gas left and as soon as the bottle is empty he’ll make his way home.

Not the motel.

Home. Their apartment.

And he’ll face whatever is waiting there for him.

That’s the thing about losing everything — things can only get better from here on out.

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barbiewritesstuff · 2 years

Text

Bad Day

-- Thank you guys for all your requests. I want to apologise for any inaccuracies, I asked my ex-aircadet fiancé about some stuff but I will shamelessly admit that I bent his answers a little to fit my idea…

Request: "Bob gets hurt ( pretty bad ) and rooster has to tell the reader and what not" by

@happyblogsstuff

Tw. For brief mention of pregnancy and and being pregnant, and for main character injuries--

Bob had had a good day.

Or a good start anyway, it wasn't going so well now.

He'd woken up early, spent time having breakfast and coffee before climbing back into bed with you to cuddle. You had snuggled into his chest adorably, eventually gracing Bob with the sight of your beautiful eyes and a sleepy smile. He had kissed you, you'd pulled him over on top of you and things had gone from there.

The day had continued to be good when he arrived on base to find chocolate chip muffins (courtesy of a bet lost by Hangman) in the recreation room and Phoenix, his best friend, guarding one from chocolate-addicted Fanboy to give to him. They had laughed and joked and eventually left for Hangar six for briefing.

He was even looking forward to dinner at your mothers, aka, the best cook in the world. He hoped she'd make her lasagna.

The sky had been blue and void of clouds, the perfect day for flying and Phoenix, Bob, Hangman, Maverick and Payback had all gone up without a worry.

Maverick had waged a tough war against their guns and managed to pick them out of the sky one by one.

Slowly, the sky had turned darker and more ominous but nothing to raise alarm bells.

"Fuck!" Phoenix had shouted when their plane buzzed and initiated landing procedures.

And then the comms died. It took a second for it to sink in that the rest of the plane did too and there was no turning it back on. The plane veered on its side, Phoenix tried to turn it back but to no avail. They were going to crash and there was nothing they could do about it. They couldn't even ask to evacuate the tarmac.

The tip of their left wing hit the landing strip with a nauseating 'CLANG' and their day went from bad to worse. The speed of their aircraft sent it ricocheting into the air spinning madly. Bob could feel a second of weightlessness and then searing pain in his neck at the impact. The plane bounced like a ball six times before landing on its head, effectively trapping them in.

Bob had lost consciousness on the third bounce. He woke up a few minutes later to a suspiciously quiet and confusing world. It took him a moment to realise that the plane was on fire and another moment to realise he couldn't move.

He wanted so desperately to touch Phoenix and check she was alive because the way she was sitting there with her limp arms over her head and resting on the burning canopy didn't bode well.

He lost consciousness again.

----

The rec room had accidentally given them a first row seat to their worst nightmare as pilots.

Rooster had just gotten up for a cup of coffee and a snickers bar from the vending machine when thunder roared. He looked over at Hangman to tell him something and saw lightning strike his teammates' plane straight on the canopy. Whatever Phoenix had been saying through the radio was cut short with jarring suddenness.

He watched it all happen in slow motion. The wingtip clipping the tarmac, sending the million dollar aircraft spiraling into the air and bouncing six times before getting overturned by momentum and hitting the canopy with astounding force.

Everyone in the room was holding their breath, holding hope that at any second one or both would crawl out of there alive. No one did. The plane caught fire, the medics and the extraction team came and Rooster felt nauseous.

He locked eyes with Hangman and both sprinted out of the room and into the tarmac in time for the firemen's arrival. The extraction team worked hard, but cutting scolding metal wasn't an easy time. Rooster could see the medical team getting worried.

Maverick caught up to him, everyone so occupied by the scene in front of them that they hadn't noticed he had even landed. Admiral Simpson joined them a few minutes later, right as the extraction team pulled someone out. It was impossible to figure out which one, as the green flight suits didn't really give much indication and Rooster presumed they had kept on the helmet to keep things in place should something have happened.

Then, they pulled out the second one and they all watched as the medic pulling his guerney draped a white sheets over their legs, scared he was just leaving the job unfinished and that their friend was actually dead.

----

Phoenix had lost consciousness almost immediately. She had felt the lightning strike hit her right above the head and the plane veering on its side and when they clipped the strip, she hit her head and she passed out. The fact that this was a good thing had only crossed her mind later, way after she had woken up.

The fact that she had practically been a ragdoll had made the impact much easier on her body, as her muscles didn't tense up and absorbed shock surprisingly well. But, the nurse had said, she would walk out of here with both legs, both arms and a head, she wouldn't be able to fly again for a while if ever, but right now Phoenix never wanted to see a plane again.

When she had asked about Bob, the nurse didn't sound so sure.

Phoenix had volunteered to call but Rooster thought he'd do it. He was the only one who had met you and he was certain you'd want to hear it from someone you knew. He was pacing the floor of the recreation room trying to find the words when it occurred to him that he never would. So he unlocked Bob's phone and called.

---

You were at your mom's when your phone rang. It was unusually early for him to call. He wouldn't be on lunch for a while yet so it could only mean two things. Either his training had been cancelled due to the weather, or he had had an accident.

You prayed it was the former.

When you picked up the phone, your heart sank, your knees buckled and tears started streaming down your cheeks.

"Y/n, this is Rooster -- err, Bradley Bradshaw -- I fly with Bob. There's been an crash."

Lieutenant Bradshaw had kept on talking but you had stopped listening.

"The doctors aren't sure he'll survive the night" was the only other thing you caught.

You looked around at the room. Your mother and you had been setting up for tonight's dinner. It was a special occasion, you had a surprise.

In a daze, you stepped out of the corridor you had taken the call in and walked towards the open box on the table. Inside was a little onesie saying "Future pilot" and an ultrasound picture.

#fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #top gun maverick #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob x reader #requests

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skylarmoon71 · 5 months

Text

Timeless Wells (Flash) - Speedster Chapter 16

“So you’ve met him right? Like you’ve had actual conversations with the guy. What is he like?” Evan question.

“Yeah tell us! I want to know too!” Avery chips in.

The three of you have sanctioned the third floor dining room as your own. Now it’s your scheduled gossip space.

“I mean he’s just like anyone else. Easy to talk to, kind, compassionate. He never puts you down for your mistakes. He always has some kind of inspirational quote ready at hand and when he smiles it’s like the room lights up.”

A blissful little smile makes its way across your features. Avery and Evan exchange a look.

“Oh my gosh you have a crush on him!” Avery exclaims.

Your cheeks flush.

“W-What! NO! That’s crazy I do not!”

“You just commented on his smile and then stared wistfully into the distance. It was like a romcom scene playing right in front of our eyes. “ Evan teased.

That would have been endearing if you liked rom coms.

“He’s just a nice guy okay. I don’t have a crush on him.”

“Whatever you say. You sure aim high huh?” Evan grins when you shove his shoulder.

“Since we’re on the topic of interest, what’s your ideal type Evan?”

Avery straightens in her seat, and he suddenly looks a bit nervously.

“I-I mean someone nice of course. Smart too. J-Just nice and smart.” He starts laughing for no apparent reason and you raise a brow.

“If that’s the requirement then you should just date Avery. She’s nice, pretty and smart.”

Her face turns a deep shade of red.

“T-That's crazy talk!! H-He would never..w-we’re just friends and I-I..I NEED TO GET JUICE!!” She bolts out of there so fast you were partially convinced that maybe she’s a speedster.

Evan drops his head on the table with a heavy sigh and now you’re a little confused.

“Did I do something?”

“You know, I thought you were feigning the whole oblivious thing, but I think you actually are pretty dense.”

“Hey!”

He stands.

“I’m going to find her before she brings us back the entire vending machine.”

He heads out the door and you just stare at the wall, puzzled.

“Then she just ran off. I must have said something.”

Harrison is trying to contain his laughter as he sits on your couch.

“Do you really not know?”

You shake your head.

“Not at all.”

He chuckles.

“From what you just explained, Evan must be interested in Avery and vice versa.”

“Oh…..OH!!”

The realization on your face is comical.

“Jeez, no wonder she ran off so fast. Damn it, now I made things awkward.”

“I wouldn’t overthink it. It may take a while for either of them to admit their feelings. I’m sure things will go back to normal eventually. They might even become closer. “

“Well, that does sound nice.”

Avery was your first friend here and Evan is the very image of your brother. So seeing them happy with each other sort of makes you smile.

Harrison takes a sip of his wine, and your gaze runs over his form. He’s still wearing a suit, leg crossed over the other. His presence gives off professionalism, yet you don’t feel like you’re in this room with the founder of Star Labs. He’s just Harrison. It’s who he’s always been. Everything he does seems so effortless and mature. He’s always in control and you suppose that is what has given you not just comfort, but confidence to lean on him with your troubles as well as your joy.

Avery’s comment doesn’t seem that far fetched now. You’re openly staring at him.

It’s a bit foolish to get attached. He’s never spoken of love, but you know his background. His late wife. Someone he’d lost due to the plans of an evil version of you. The pain that reality carries is almost too much to handle. You sip from your own glass, eyes low. He catches that brief look you wear.

“Are you okay?”

He places the glass down, and you follow, planting a smile on your face.

“Yeah, just maybe I had a little too much wine. “

You’re tipsy at most, so the excuse is weak. But he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t need to know. He’s done enough to help with your inner turmoil. He shouldn’t have to solve your love life too. Or lack thereof.

“I think I know you well enough to see through that.”

Your fingers run along the rim of the glass.

“Tell me..” He urges softly.

Gazing at the liquid longingly, you swallow.

“Have you ever wanted something..you knew you could never have?”

You don’t make the mistake of looking directly at him. If you do that, he’ll no doubt see beyond the cryptic words. He’ll see that all of his kindness, his humanity has you completely and utterly infatuated with him now. The revelation is almost too painful to comprehend.

“I can’t say that I have. But if it’s something that you want that badly, then you should fight for it. No one would get anything if they gave up because something claims to be unattainable. I believe we can achieve anything we put our minds to. Look at me, I am the prime example of an impossible situation. I shouldn’t even exist but here I am. If that isn’t extraordinary, then I don’t know what is.”

Once again you’re brought to your knees by his wisdom. You still avoid eye contact. Somehow you feel a lot better hearing those words.

It might not be out of your grasp after all.

#reverseflash #genderswap #timelesswells #harrisonwells #pastpain #new beginnings #flash #understanding #friends #care

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lexa-griffins · 1 year

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Hi 👩🏼‍⚕️

I say this lovingly, "You truly are evil and cruel. You belong in the pantheon of people who want to watch the world burn"

I was blindsided by that cancer diagnosis for Clarke and Lexa's daughter and I was not expecting that when I asked you to hurt them. Lexa lost Clarke and now she might lose Madi! She truly believes her entire life is falling apart

How explosive will the confrontation be when Clarke and Lexa are alone and she demands Lexa to tell her everything and why she hid Madi from her? Will Lexa finally confess everything and let down all her walls and be vulnerable with Clarke? Will this push them closer together or farther apart? I need answers!!!

Damn, is there something wrong with me if I love this unimaginable level of pain, heartache, and trauma that they both have to navigate together for Madi's sake. It might actually be cathartic for me since I've seen this happen as a nurse. Sometimes I just wish I could absorb all their pain and heal them. I wanna lay in Madi's bed and hug her and tell her that she'll be fine and there's nothing to worry about (I hate putting on a brave face when I know that's a lie 🥺)

Do you promise that all three of them will be happy together as a family when Madi goes into remission? My heart won't survive if they have to say goodbye to Madi. I'll never forgive you if Madi doesn't learn the truth about her doctor also being her mom. They deserve a happy ending 🥺

I am so very sorry for smacking you in the face with that but 😈 angst is angst 😈

Lexa's entire world shatters when she hears those words out of Clarke's mouth. Madi was fine, she has been fine so how, how did Lexa miss any signs that something could be wrong?

And Clarke. God Clarke wants to yell, she wants to cry and run away. She wants to shake Lexa, ask her how could she hide her daughter from her like this and at the same time she wants to hug her so badly and promise her everything will okay, that she will not sleep until Madi is cured and then, then they can go and be a family and she can learn about everything she missed during those 2 years and never again be away from them. And more than anything she wants to kneel on the bed, take Madi's small hand and tell her that she is her sire and that she doesnt need to worry because she'll never let anything bad happen to her, that she knows Madi will be so brave through all of this.

They wait for Madi to fall asleep eventually, a couple of hours later after Clarke had to, at great cost to her heart, excuse herself to see other patients, leaving Lexa sniffing with a nod and Madi curled up to her side. Clarke finds Lexa by a vending machine and calmly, oh so much calmer than she feels, asks her to speak to her alone. The moment the janitor's closet door closes Clarke let's the waterworks start.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why would you keep her from me? Do you really hate me this much? I'm your fucking mate, how could you?"

Soon the tears of anger turn into sobs as Clarke breaks down completely, "I didn't have any time with her and now I might not have that much left." Which Clarke understands might be a horrible to tell a mother who just found out her child has cancer but she is her child too goddammit!

They cry in each other's arms as Lexa whispers apologies that could never bring back the years Clarke lost with her little girl.

Its not easy for them. Lexa moves into a little apartment in the city, knowing this is the best hospital for Madi to stay at. Clarke insists on still being Madi's doctor even if she's her sire, there is no way she's not gonna spend as much time with her daughter as she possibly can.

Its treatable and that is all they can focus on. Still the operation is a risk so Lexa and Clarke spend as much time as they can manage with Madi and with each other. And its so easy for Lexa to fall back in love with Clarke. She isnt even sure how and why she ever stopped, why was she so scared of having a life with her, why she all but put as much distance as she could between her and Clarke the moment she learned she was pregnant. She feels so beyond guilty for not allowing Clarke and Madi happier memories together. Perhaps this is her punishment for pushing Clarke away the way she did. She had a chance to make it right when they accidentally mated and she didn't and now he universe might take Madi away from her and leave her with without her daughter and without her mate.

Try as she can Clarke is not allowed in the operation room. They haven't told Madi yet but they do not know what will happen inside the block so they tell her. The little girl's smile, however weaker, could still lighten up a room.

"I knew it! I knew you were my mom."

Clarke smiles at her, trying so hard not to choke on her tears while Lexa turns away from them both to hide her own, "How did you know?"

Madi blinks, slowly. She's getting tired much faster now and Clarke softly brushes her temple that peaks behind the beany Madi now wears as without her hair she keeps complaining of being cold. Its one of Lexa's old ones, kne she stole from Clarke all those years ago.

"Your scent. You smell-" she stops mid-sentence, rudely interrupted by a yawn "-you smell like mommy."

Right. They are mated, her and Lexa's scents have mixed to create their own, the exact same scent Madi has being so young.

"I smell like mommy?"

"Yeah... like home."

As she falls asleep, her mothers' sobs can not longer be kept inside.

Lexa and Clarke stay at the hospital during the entire operation. There is no more pretending they do not want to touch or embarrassment over leaning on each other. They cry on each other's shoulders, kiss to comfort each other, make promises they don't even know they'll be able to keep if Madi makes it out okay.

Lexa moves into Clarke's apartment. They don't know what they are doing but it makes it easier for both of them.

After two weeks, Madi's has a whole bedroom set up. It feels weird and yet so right in Clarke's eyes. Lexa's clothes in her wardrobe, her favorite coffee next to Clarke's on the counter, Madi's small pair of shoes by the entrance, a spare bedroom left bare for the past couple of years now inhabited by the light of her eyes.

Lexa and her never really talk about it - god they have always been horrible at talking - but in their own weird way, they know they are each other's forevers.

Madi is better now. Not cured, not fully yet, but she's on her way. Her hair is growing back in the most adorable brown locks and she now has enough energy to play around the apartment and go on small walks. She smiles brighter, fuller and has started calling Clarke mom.

Lexa proposed. It is not costume for the omega to get down on one knee but very little of their life together so far has been traditional. Madi will be their ringbearer and the little brother she doesn't yet know she's gonna have will be their little flower boy - even if she pouts when she learns the wedding will be postponed for about her year as Lexa refuses to walk down the aisle pregnant, which in Clarke's opinion is the most beautiful she's ever seen her, as she promises its not just her alpha talking for not having been present in her past gestation.

They were horrible together at first. Toxic and unstable and yet even after breaking up they could not get away from one another. A dumb medical trial got them so riled up for each other they knotted and mated for the very first time. And then when they could finally leave each other, they didn't. And when they finally did, Lexa was left with a permanent reminder of Clarke in the form of their pup while her made moved away from her. Only for the universe to bring them back together in the most painful of ways.

Lexa will never, ever forgive whoever is out there for making her little girl suffer the way she did. But for what is worth, at least it bought her and Clarke back together and finally made them see they are what each other needs; them, their sweet daughter, and their little boy and whoever more comes next :)

#letter opened #👩🏼‍⚕️ anon #im sorry its been 84 years ajsjsjajsis #THEY ARE FINE!#no one is dead!#and look they have another little baby now too 🥰#i am not as mean as you make me to be 😌

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thecatchat · 2 years

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The Zeal of Hep

------

Sapnap felt the stress of the situation rolling off his shoulders as he closed the door behind him. Hep, the accidental fusion of Quackity and Karl, was still rambling on and on and on. As far as he could tell they hadn't paused for a breath and he was starting to wonder if they even needed to breath at all.

Within minutes of landing in the new dimension, they'd been found and picked up by some scientific organization. Apparently, one of their own members had become a Traveler and had been terrified by their first experience in another dimension. Of course, Karl had run off to help while he and Quackity got a tour of some of the inventions they had. They were in the middle of watching... something with a name that he couldn't pronounce, when Karl had burst in the doors and into Quackity. Both tumbled into the machine and by the time it was turned off, Hep was standing in their place.

Now, Hep was emptying their pockets onto the table. Two sets of keys, a handful of pencils, an assortment of candy, three bike locks, a clock, a bird-

Sapnap did a double take at the white bird cooing and hopping around the table. It looked at him with confused eyes. As confused as a bird can look anyhow. Stretching out its wings, it flew up and perched on Hep's shoulder.

"My loves," his voice strained slightly at the sight, "why do you have a bird?"

"It was in reach." They explained while continuing to add to the pile that had already doubled in size. He didn't even know what most of it was called, just that all of it was stolen. They had been pick pocketing, breaking and entering, and trespassing all day despite Sapnap's best efforts.

The scientists had offered to get them a place to stay while they took a day to go over the data and set up the machine to fix this mess. The only condition was that they lay low and not get into any trouble. Everything Hep did was trouble. At first it was amusing to see them open a vending machine like it was a personal ice box or pour all the hard candies out of the front desks bowl and into their handbag while making pleasant conversation. Now, it was just needless risk after needless risk.

"You want any?" Hep offered a banana while suddenly holding a cat in his arms.

"No!" Sapnap snapped, "I don't want a banana. I don't want a cat or a bird or whatever any of this. I don't need any of this. You don't need any of this! Just-" the smell of smoke stopped him short. The carpet had begun to smolder under his feet. The heat still simmered in the air as he swallowed back the burst of anger and told them, "Forget it. I'm taking a nap."

He stalked into the only other room and closed the door behind him sharply.

Hep could feel the vibrations of the sound like a punch to the gut. They went through the events of the day in their mind. "Oh." They turned to the two animals who stared at them from the table. "Oh, I've been a real moron. I- We can fix it. We can apologize. We've been so stupid."

This was easy. This was gonna be a breeze. They did it all the time separated: do something that frustrated Sapnap, apologize about it, get forgiven, then fluster him until he relaxed. The door was right there. There was absolutely nothing stopping them from going inside... They should probably empty their pockets first though, it would be really awkward if something fell out while he was apologizing.

---------

Sapnap laid stiffly on his back, staring at the ceiling. He'd snapped harder than he ever had before at either of them and he was starting to feel the regret seeping in. It was all things that needed to be said but saying them in a surge of emotions and nearly setting fire to the carpet was certainly not the best way of doing it.

"Knock knock," Hep called from the other side of the door, "Can I come in?" Oh, so now he asks to go places! Considering how many places he'd broken into today, Sapnap was almost surprised that Hep knew how to ask.

"I don't know," Sapnap replied back, "can't you just pick the lock?" XD, he didn't know where this level of snarkiness was coming from. He supposed he must have picked it up from the other two at some point, but he'd never snarked at either of them before. Is this what being petty was like? It was leaving quite a bitter feeling behind.

It was quiet for several minutes and Sapnap was beginning to wonder if Hep had gone off on another law breaking spree. Neither Karl nor Quackity stayed in one spot for long unless they felt like they had to, he figured Hep would be the same. But he hadn't heard footsteps walk away or any doors opening or closing. Were they hurt?

He quickly got up and strode over to the door, nearly stepping onto Hep on his way out.

"We-" Hep scrambled onto their feet, nearly falling over in their rush, "I didn't mean it."

"What?" Sapnap asked. He'd been so shocked that they were still there that they hadn't actually heard what they said.

Hep's face was pulled tight with regret yet their voice sounded like they were giving a sales pitch as they explained, "I didn't mean to make you so upset. I was just so excited to test out my skills that I kinda forgot about everything else. Including laws and stuff. I- We're sorry."

Strange body language aside, Sapnap couldn't stay mad when faced with a genuine apology. He knew he couldn't let the matter go entirely either. But he'd been a bit hot headed about it and the guilt was starting to eat at his mind.

He pulled them into a gentle hug. "Even if an apology doesn't make everything magically better, it's a good start." He could feel the way they melted into the hug with relief. If he wasn't still trying to put his foot down, he'd be scooping them into his arms and peppering kisses all over their face.

"So," Hep asked with a sly voice and shy smile, "can we cuddle now?"

Sapnap raised an eyebrow. He internationally debated the chances of Hep being able to read his mind, again. Still, they really needed to figure out what they were going to do about the pile of stolen goods. And the animals too.

"Come on. From what I can vaguely remember, Judge and Firecracker got cuddles. Don't you want cuddles?" Hep purred out while combing their fingers through his hair.

Cuddles sounded lovely. He could feel his resolve crumbling with second he stared into their mismatched eyes. It was hypnotic. One eye stayed a dark brown that nearly looked black while the other changed with every blink from yellow to pink to blue to -

He tore his eyes away as he tried to regain some semblance of order. Their eyes were beautiful but he needed to get them back on track. Then again, who said you couldn't have a serious discussion while cuddling?

"Fine," Sapnap tried to sound begrudging but the word was dripping with affection.

"Yes!" They cheered out, giggling as they pulled Sapnap back towards the bed. With a quick spin and a nudge, Sapnap was back to sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Scooch over bacon," they said as they waited for him to make room, "sizzlin' is moving in."

Sapnap laughed at the absurd saying. It was such a Karl thing to do, saying the strangest things that never failed to shock a laugh out of him. "Oh XD. You sound ridiculous!"

Hep joined him on the bed as the laughter faded out, nearly smacking Sapnap in the face with the wide floppy brim of their hat.

Normally, he'd be tempted to make some kind of joke or comment on it. Perhaps even come up with a ridiculous name for it too. Normally.

"You're still angry."

"I'm not angry."

"Yes, you are. I can tell," Hep turned to face him, pushing the brim of their hat out of the way so they could see. "I'm really good at reading body language. Like, freakishly good at it... when I'm focused on it." They add on at the end after seeing skepticism flood Sapnap's face.

Honestly, he was more than a little shocked at that but the more he thought about it the more obvious it became. Prowa's entire social structure seemingly revoled around subtle words and body language in a much more complex way than in Quarry. Needing to constantly keep in mind which tone someone used or look out for the slightest break in face, it resembled political debates more than any type of business meeting or casual social gathering.

And Karl... didn't really have a body language. He borrowed and mimicked other people's body language. From so many different dimensions. Every now and then he'd get confused and mix up some of the signals and scare someone half to death but he bounces back quick as a-

*thwap*

Sapnap definitely does not yelp when Hep turned their head and hit him with the brim of their hat. He merely let out a slightly high pitched sound of alarm.

"Careful. How about you take your hat off?" Wait, wasn't there some social rules about wearing hats in certain situations in Prowa? He couldn't remember what they were so he quickly added, "At least, while we're this close."

"Right, yah." Hep rolls their eyes fondly and he says it in a way that Sapnap knows he's going to get teased for something later. Then Hep slides off their hat with a dramatic flourish.

"Woh-" Hep recoils heavily once their hat is off. Sapnap almost bashes his head against the wall as he snaps to sit up. "This is weird." It's easy to see why when they blink over at him.

"Is-is that a third eye?" He asks more out of shock than anything else.

The entire eye is white with flakes of every color imaginable reflecting from the light. Opalescent. Iridescent. Prismatic. It's mesmerizing. It fits them in a way he never would have thought of himself.

"I wouldn't know. I can't see it but that would explain it. It's not too much of an eye sore for you, is it?"

Hep puts on a good poker face of confidence but it's dulled by the way they squint all three of their eyes. Their voice lacking its normal bravado and banter. If they want to talk about it later, they will. Maybe they'll talk about Sapnap's outburst too. But that was to be saved for a different time.

"I believe the correct term to describe your third eye would be 'absolute eye candy'." Sapnap tells them as he tugs at the knot in his headband. "Truly stunning to behold. But it seems to be causing you a bit of an eye sore. Allow me to help you with that, my Crown."

He presents the ribbon with a slight bow. He'd put on a silk one for a meeting that morning and had been tackled into a hug and a new dimension before he could swap it out. He was grateful for that now. This one didn't even have any dirt on it. He carefully wrapped it around their head and tied a frim yet gentle knot.

"How do I look?" Hep asked.

"Enchanting," Sapnap answered, "an absolute cat's meow."

Hep laughed warmly at the use of the Prowan slang term. It was something that Sapnap only really attempted to do when he was in a good mood. Which ment, "You're not angry anymore."

"I can't be truly angry," he mumbled before taking their hand and pressing a chaste kiss to the knuckles, "not after seeing my kingdom looking like a kicked wolf cub. That's not to say I'm happy with all this. But I'm not angry about it anymore."

"I'll put some of it back. Later. I- we promise."

Sapnap felt the tension from the day finally fall from his shoulders. He held up their hand and pressed a gentle kiss to their palm.

"Thank you. I'll hold you to that."

"For now, mind if I make it up to you?"

Something in that tone of voice set off a bell in the back of his head. Not necessarily a bad bell. But something was up.

"Really? How so?" Sapnap questioned.

The smile Hep gave him was downright cheeky. They lightly ran their hand that wasn't being held up his arm and finished with a brush of their thumb over his collar bone. Their voice was a throaty purr as they explained, "Now that we're hitting on all eight I was thinking we could neck a little, or a lot if you'd like baby. A real looker like you deserves something nice after the flat tire of a day you've had."

Oh. Oh. That's what happens when you combine Karl's affinity for physical affection and Quackity's flirtatious behavior. You get ... well, Sapnap really can't understand exactly what is being offered but the energy alone is going to cause him to combust if it stays like this much longer.

"Ah," Hep pauses at Sapnap's gay panic, "too much?"

All he can do is nod and focus on keeping the burning of his face to a metaphorical sense. Thankfully, Hep leans back a little to give him space to recollect his thoughts.

"How about we just cuddle and see where it goes?" He offers as an olive branch.

"That's what we just offered you!"

... Sapnap doubts that but he doesn't have enough knowledge to dispute it.

So instead he carefully tugs Hep back over and holds them against his chest. They settle in, basking in each other presence, while the sun sets outside the hotel window. Everything wasn't perfect, but they were getting there and that's what mattered the most.

--------

IT'S FINISHED!!! I'VE WORKED FOR SO LONG!!! OH GOD IT'S DONE!!!!

Really though, there were times I doubted that I would get this done and to finish this final part is truly amazing. I hope you all enjoy every word of it!

#karlnapity dimensions #if sad check this tag #ksq dimensions content #ksq dimensions lmao #karlnapity dimensions writing

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blueboyluca · 1 year

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Lubbock was also one of the first individuals to use experiments to assess the behavioural responses of dogs. Like Morgan, his own dog (a poodle named Van) was used as his experimental subject. It took more than three months of training but, on the surface of it, what Lubbock achieved with Van was a feat approaching the Doolittlian. In the most basic interpretation of events, Lubbock taught Van sign language. And I mean that literally – with little signs. If you want to replicate Lubbock’s experimental set-up at home you will need to arrange some tiny placards on which you can write words. First, write on one card, in big letters, the word 'FOOD' and then call your dog over. When your dog happens to pick up this card with its jaws, run off and get them a treat. In only a few hours or so of this training regime, you’ll notice a change in your dog. The dog will start picking up the 'FOOD' sign regularly. You’ll know things are going well when you find yourself being worked by your dog like a vending-machine claw, running back and forth to acquire treats from the kitchen morning, noon and night. You can introduce other signs at this point. For instance, you can write the word 'WATER' in large, bold letters and change the reward for a bowl of water. Over time, the same pattern will emerge in the dog’s behaviour. It now apparently knows two words: 'FOOD' and 'WATER'. Congratulations, you are training the dog and, in return, it is training you. A relationship will begin to blossom between them, the signposter, and you, the table-waiter. A month or so into Lubbock’s working with Van on this simple procedure, he decided to add two new words: 'OUT' (as in 'open the door') and 'BONE' (as in 'give me a bone'). Van duly took to the challenge, coming to wield each expertly. 'No one who has seen him look along a row of cards, and select the right one, can, I think, doubt that in bringing a card he feels that he is making a request, and that he can not only perfectly distinguish between one word and another, but also associates the word and the object,' Lubbock surmised. He even spelled out some cards phonetically to help his little canine student get the hang of the English language. Morgan, no doubt, would have spat feathers at this bit. Though the idea is easy to ridicule, Lubbock was making some sense. After all, the approach is not wholly dissimilar to chimpanzees and dolphins who, in the modern day, can be taught to press buttons and touch-screens for their desired objects or rewards. Yet Lubbock's study left the door open to misinterpretation, giving some people the idea that dogs were using words rather than picking up on the patterns of wavy lines and smudges on each sign to get what they wanted – something Morgan’s Canon would suggest was the simpler of the two interpretations.

— Jules Howard, Wonderdog (2022)

Dog buttons of the 19th century

#dog books

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unfoldingmoments · 4 months

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Six Feet Under

“Everybody forgives everybody for everything.” — Nate Fisher, Six Feet Under, Season 1: Pilot

“I just feel like all I do, all day long, is just manage myself, try to fuckin' connect with people. But it's like, no matter how much energy you pour into getting to the station on time, or getting on the right train, there's still no fuckin' guarantee that anybody's gonna be there for you to pick you up when you get there.” — Nate Fisher, Six Feet Under, Season 5: Time Flies “If there’s a moment when I feel like I’m in prison, I just have to think about all those moments when it feels safe, and remind myself that those moments outweigh the prison moments.” — Nate Fisher “I say, if life offers you a new beginning, take it.” — Brenda Chenowith “I can’t believe how much money I’ve spent fucking up my life.” — Brenda Chenowith

“That’s the thing about Narcissus, its not that he’s so fucking in love with himself, because he isn’t at all, he fucking hates himself. It’s that without that reflection looking back at him, he doesn’t exist.” — Billy Chenowith, Six Feet Under, Season 2: Someone Else's Eyes

“You hang onto your pain like it means something, like it's worth something. Well, let me tell ya, it's not worth shit. Let it go. Infinite possibilities, and all he can do is whine.” — Nathaniel Fisher, Sr., Six Feet Under, Season 4: Untitled

“Maybe your soul mate is the one who forces your soul to grow the most?” — Ari Ziskind, Six Feet Under, Season 4: The Dare

“I wouldn’t change anything. If you change one thing, that changes everything. And some things are the way they should be.” — Brenda Chenowith, Six Feet Under, Season 3: Tears, Bones and Desire

“Life is pain, get used to it.” — Lisa Kimmel Fisher, Six Feet Under, Season 4: The Dare

“It's hard sometimes, relationships aren't easy. You just have to work at it every day. Can't expect everything to be perfect all the time, and can't get shaken when it isn't. If there's a moment when I feel like I'm in prison, I just have to think about all those moments when it feels safe, and remind myself that those moments outweigh the prison moments.” — Nate Fisher, Six Feet Under, Season 3: The Trap

“That's where everything started. In those cave paintings there was the creation of the idea of image, of the representation of ourselves.” — Russell Corwin, Six Feet Under, Season 4: Can I Come Up Now?

“If we live our lives the right way, then every single thing we do becomes a work of art.” — Claire Fisher, Six Feet Under, Season 2: The Liar and the Whore

“You know, it's just so sad that you can love somebody so much and have absolutely no idea what's going on in their head.” — Brenda Chenowith, Six Feet Under, Season 2: The Invisible Woman

“That's the thing about depression: if you really allow yourself to feel it, it gets very boring very fast.” — Brenda Chenowith, Six Feet Under, Season 2: Out, Out, Brief Candle

“You know what I find interesting? If you lose a spouse, you're called a widow or a widower. If you're a child and you lose your parents, then you're an orphan. But what's the word to describe a parent who loses a child? I guess that's just too fucking awful to even have a name.” — Brenda Chenowith, Six Feet Under, Season 1: Life's Too Short

“Love isn't something you feel, it's something you do. If the person you're with doesn't want it, do yourself a favor and save it for someone who does.” — Nate Fisher, Six Feet Under, Season 5: The Rainbow of Her Reasons

“Well, I know that if you think life is a vending machine, where you put in virtue and you get out happiness, then you're probably gonna be disappointed. I know that.” — Maggie Sibley, Six Feet Under, Season 5: Time Flies

“Nate: Time flies when you're having fun, huh? Nathaniel Sr.: No, time flies when you're pretending to have fun.” — Nate Fisher, Six Feet Under, Season 5: Time Flies

“In the beginning, if you hate something, it's good, because you don't recognize the beauty of your own truth.” — Olivier Castro-Staal, Six Feet Under, Season 3: The Eye Inside

“All we have is this moment, right here, right now. The future is just a fucking concept that we use to avoid being alive today. So be here... now.” — Brenda Chenowith, Six Feet Under, Season 2: Someone Else's Eyes “Well, we’re all wounded. We carry our wounds around with us through life, and eventually they kill us. Things happen that leave a mark in space, in time. In us.” — Brenda Chenowith

“All that lives, lives forever. Only the shell, the perishable passes away. The spirit is without end. Eternal. Deathless.” — Nate Fisher, Six Feet Under, Season 2: In The Game

Tracy Montrose: Why do people have to die? Nate: To make life important. None of us know how long we've got. Which is why we have to make each day matter. And it sound like your Aunt Lilian did exactly that. Tracy Montrose: Yeah, she did. Nate: Then you can be happy for her. For a life well-lived. That's the most any of us can hope for. — Nate Fisher, Six Feet Under, Season 1: Knock, Knock

“You both look so happy. Just enjoy it while it lasts. Which isn't very long. You think you have forever, but you don't. Soon you start to get on each other's nerves. Then you don't tell the other person as much as you used to, 'cause, really, what's the point? You thought they understood you, but they never did … not really. Finally, not only do you not tell the other person anything real, you actively start lying to him. And then, when you think it can't get any worse, he up and dies! No matter what you do, you end up alone, not knowing who you are or what you really want!” — Ruth Fisher, Six Feet Under, Season 1: The Foot

“Well, we're all wounded. We carry our wounds around with us through life, and eventually they kill us. Things happen that leave a mark in space, in time. In us.” — Brenda Chenowith, Six Feet Under, Season 1: The Will

#sixfeetunder #moviequotes #quotes #movie #hbo #life #death

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slimeywooper · 6 months

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Labmas AU - Unintended Consequences

Chapter 11 Part 1 - Disappointment

CW: A gross description of eating and an explanation of cruelty that we saw previously

Exiting the elevator and turning left, with Kudari following, you arrive at the break room. While standing outside, you notice he is now carrying something tightly wrapped in webbing. You decide to wait until you are inside to ask about it. After entering, you see the research assistant, Alvis, and waive at him. He's not looking at you, transfixed by Kudari, mouth hanging open, the sandwich that was initially about to be eaten held midway up his chest. Kudari begins unwrapping the webbed object to reveal it to be a Metapod.

Confusion fueling the question, you ask, "What are you doing with that Metapod?"

Stepping between one set of legs and the other, he answers, "While you were grabbing supplies, I took it from its cage in the kennel. I had it stashed via webbing under my abdomen expressly for when we would take a break!"

So that's how he has the Metapod. Expanding on the previous question, you continue, "Ok… but why?"

"I'm going to eat it, of course!" He says this as if it should be obvious, but gives a more in depth reason, "Dr. Colress doesn't like when I eat people food. He says all the different additives make me hyper and 'hard to handle.' So since I was young, I've been eating bug Pokemon."

"Doesn't it taste… bad?" you inquire softly, tilting your head. You can't imagine having to do such a thing. That is really disgusting, and it makes you dislike Colress even more for insisting Kudari take part in it, all because he doesn't want to 'handle' him otherwise.

He shakes his head dismissively, "Definitely not good, but I wouldn't say 'bad.' At least not anymore." He holds the Pokemon to his face, eyeing it. "Metapod are easy. I don't have to inject them with venom, just crack their shell and drink the insides." Alvis' color is getting visibly greener. He still has not moved from his position. "Here, watch this!" Kudari announces as he starts to sink his thumbs into the back of the Metapod's head. There is a sickening pop sound as his digits pierce through the shell. "There's a little spot back here that remains soft regardless of how many times they use 'Harden.' Regular Pokemon don't know about it, but I'm no regular Pokemon!" Green liquid starts dripping down his hands and onto the floor. Alvis jumps up and runs out of the room, dropping his sandwich to the floor. You can hear him retching in the hallway.

It's happening quickly, but you are able to vocalize, "Uh, no, that's fine. I don't need to watch!" but you can't look away.

"There we go," Kudari proclaims, now able to rip back a part of the head, pressing it to his lips and tilting it to drink the fluid held inside. He isn't being very careful, as it begins to run down his chin and onto his shirt. When he is finished, the back of his sleeve is used to clean the excess from his face. He promptly places the body in the trash can, nearly filling the can completely in the process.

Uttering faintly, "Wow… that was… something," you are feeling queasy, but nothing close to what poor Alvis must have felt. "Maybe we should find you a towel. There's… stuff all over your shirt."

Kudari looks down, acknowledging the mess he has made. "No. Not necessary. Dr. Colress will complain if I use one. I'll just take my shirt off and we can continue working after you eat."

"I think I'm good for now. I'll just get something from the vending machine for later." It was an honest answer, since you lost your appetite after watching him, not that you were going to tell him that. You make another suggestion, "how about before we resume cleaning the kennels, we head to your room so you can grab another shirt?"

He adamantly refuses, "No, no. Dr. Colress will be upset that he needs to do more laundry because two shirts were worn for one day."

Such statements made you wonder if Colress was ever happy or proud of anything Kudari did. You weren't able to feel sad from that thought before Kudari is unbuttoning his shirt. He takes it off and slings it over his shoulder. This is the first time you've seen his bare chest and stomach. And he's jacked. You aren't quite sure how to process this, staring is the only action to take. In doing so, you notice something at the base of his neck. It is some kind of thin, metal object, starting from his right collarbone, and coiling behind his neck to end at his left collarbone.

Kudari notices your inquisitive gaze, and raising his hand to the object, offers you an explanation, "This is my collar. Dr. Colress put it on me so I won't be bad," he says nonchalantly.

"What does it do? Does he take it off if you're good?" you ask inquisitively. You can only guess that Colress' definition of Kudari being 'good' means doing exactly as he is told and not having a personality or thoughts of his own.

"Hee hee! Of course not! It's always on me and is water resistant, as well as able to withstand my strongest electrical shocks! Buuut, in terms of what it does…" He lowers his hand and gets closer to you, "When I'm bad, Dr. Colress presses a button on this little device he carries, and a needle is injected into my neck which releases a freezing agent that makes me unable to move my muscles." He recites this as if he's rehearsed it for years, giving you a demonstration on his fingers, making one finger stab the other in mimicry of what happens to his neck.

You remark quietly, "Dear God, Kudari, that's terrible. I'm so sorry." What in God's name is wrong with this place? They conduct experiments on Pokemon here, sure, but this is blatantly violating human rights.

He seems confused by your sentiment and tries to further explain, "It's not so bad. I just have to be good, and it's not an issue!" he says with a smile, trying to reassure you.

No, it is an issue. Your heart is aching from this revelation, but you don't think it would be appropriate for you to show him that. The maelstrom of thoughts in your head are interrupted as someone enters the breakroom. Looking in the direction of the door, you see Colress has arrived.

Taking a glance at the small mess on the floor, then trailing his eyes up and down Kudari, Colress comments plainly, "Charming." His attention turning to you, he orders, "Go get him another shirt. Don't let him be disgusting. If you let up for a second, he'll take advantage." Kudari's demeanor changes. He's staring at the floor silently, not bothering to defend himself.

Colress just shows up and starts giving orders, not even asking how you two are coming along. You don't know if seeing Kudari shirtless set him off or if it was something that happened prior to getting here. Not wanting to test him, you relent, "Fine, I'll head to his room and grab one, but… I can't open his door, I don't have the passcode. You can write it down for me, or whisper—"

"No, I don't trust you enough to give you that information. Nobori should be in his room. Get him to open it," he bluntly tells you, no emotion discernable from his voice.

You nod and ask Kudari, "Any color in particular you want?"

Colress answers for him, "It doesn't matter what color. Just go get one. I can't have him parading around the laboratory naked." Façade crumbling, he is beginning to visibly lose his temper.

"Alright, I'll be back." You give Kudari a sympathetic look, which he doesn't see as he's still staring at the floor, before leaving the room. The first thing you spot is Alvis mopping where he had lost his lunch.

"Hey, Alvis. Sorry, I didn't know Kudari ate bug Pokemon. Are you okay?" you inquire, feeling somewhat guilty. Alvis stops and looks up, responding weakly, "Yeah, I'm fine. My stomach is really weak to gross stuff. I wanted to leave as soon as he came in, but I was too scared, so I just sat there. It was only a matter of time after he started on the Metapod until I would lose it."

You empathize with his predicament, giving another apology, "That was pretty gruesome. Sorry, again. I'm sure he didn't mean to disgust anyone."

"I don't mind being disgusted. As long as he doesn't rip my arms off." You raise your eyebrows at his dramatic statement. "Well, let me finish cleaning up after myself. It's not an option to leave this on the floor, somebody could slip."

"Uh huh. I've got to run and grab Kudari another shirt. See you later." Turning from him, you walk to the elevator and ride it down. The next course of action is getting Nobori to help you. You'll get to be alone with him, but only for a moment. Kudari looked miserable being left with Colress, you don't want to abandon him for too long, nor would Colress like to be left waiting. Approaching Nobori's door, you knock lightly. "Hey Nobori, it's (Y/N) again. Colress has sent me to get another shirt for Kudari."

#labmas au #hybrid au #colress #kudari #nobori #submas au

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oldmanmuffins · 6 months

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Summer 2023 recap

I don't want to write a full thing on each of these but wanted to put down my thoughts.

Zom100 - A bit disappointing overall. This one started fairly strong, with good production and a sometimes fun story. Unfortunately, it feels like it can't decide if it wants to be fun (yay) or if it wants to uncomfortably process its grief about oppressive work culture (nooo).

The Great Cleric - For now I'm shying away from numeric scales, but this would be useful for calibration as a near perfect 5/10.

The Masterful Cat is Depressed Again (dropepd) - I liked the big cat. I'm assuming this was a 4-panel comic originally, and it can be hard to adopt those, but this really needed a story.

This studio just spammed out 3 bad-to-mediocre shows at once this season. I don't want to wish them failure, but I don't want that to succeed either.

Jujutsu Kaisen s2 (dropped) - I kept seeing gifs of this and it looked like so much fun. Watching it though, it just felt like all it was was those gifs; a bunch of well-produced 6-10 second moments without the connective tissue to establish them or give them meaning.

Am I Actually the Strongest? (dropped) - So bad. We watched it for a laugh and it might be good for a drunken hate watch. You know how sometimes an author can have trouble giving characters distinct voices so they all just sound like the author? This is that and the author is really greasy.

Reign of the Seven Spellblades (dropped) - The show is so boring you find yourself obsessing over background details. The most fun we had watching the first episode of this was discussing the absurdity of the sexy headmistress and speculating on why they felt a need to remove Africa from their fantasy earth map.

The Vending Machine one (dropped) - It's not that bad... I guess that's the point. But a joke about how easy it is to do the bare minimum isn't fun for more than a couple episodes.

#anime review #summer 2023

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gta-5-vehicle-cheats-is · 2 years

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gta 5 vehicle cheats hack 22K%

💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Get comet vehicle – Get garbage truck – Get Buzzard helicopter – GTA 5 CAR CHEATS VEHICLE SPAWNS · Spawn BMX Console: BANDIT · Spawn Comet Console: COMET · Spawn Duster Console: FLYSPRAY · Spawn PCJ Motorcycle. We have all the GTA 5 cheats, with codes that can drop weapons, ammo, and cars on demand; or give you super powers like invincibility. However, just because it's a brilliant game doesn't mean we can't rinse it for all its worth. Watch on YouTube. It's easy enough using these cheats on your console of choice. You can also press up on the d-pad to bring up your character's cell phone, then enter the cell phone cheat and it will have the same effect. No phone shenanigans needed! We've broken up the GTA 5 cheats into sections, so scroll through to the cheat you want, then find the code for the platform you're playing on. The first set of codes to get your hands on all relate to weapons and making the player a completely lethal killing machine. This is the biggie. Enter this cheat and you'll spawn all weapons and max out the ammo for each one. That means you'll have pockets crammed with everything from the basic pistols to the grenade launcher and everything in between. It's a box of lethal toys for you to play with - just be careful not to accidentally blow yourself up. Unleash violent chaos in GTA 5 and you'll soon have the cops, the local gangs, gun nuts and general populace returning fire. Not a lot of people back down in Los Santos. So with this cheat you'll make yourself invincible. You will not die. That doesn't mean the locals won't stop throwing bullets at you, so expect the chaos to continue until you manage to shake them off. Or kill them all. If you don't want to be completely invincible but do want to keep your ticker pumping, this is the cheat for you. So much quicker and easier than using first aid or eating snacks from a vending machine, this cheat will pump your health back up to maximum and equip you with the highest form of body armour. Now you're feeling tip-top again, you can jump back in to the action. This is another cheat that gives you a boost without making you super-powered. You might want to use this during the main campaign for that little uplift. It basically recharges your characters special ability. For Franklin that means Driving Focus , so he can slow down time when handling any vehicle with wheels, allowing pinpoint accuracy when racing around the streets. Michael's special ability is Bullet Time. He can slow down time to target heads and other hotspots with complete accuracy - although he can only do this on foot. Trevor's special ability is Red Mist. Red Mist allows Trevor to take less damage and inflict more pain when he's in the zone, so he can be a little more wild and less cautious of the damage he might take. If you really want to taunt the police and you can't be bothered to start the antagonism from scratch, this cheat will max out your wanted level immediately. That means you'll be descended upon by special military police in helicopters and tanks and with van-loads of support. Brace yourself. Okay, so you need to take it down and notch and you just can't shake those relentless cops? You need to lower your wanted level by entering this cheat. Each time you enter it you lower your wanted level by one star. When normal bullets just won't kill quick enough, you need explosive bullets. These are great for taking out heavily armoured targets and for dropping enemies with a single shot. Especially useful when going up against the police or military because those guys do not mess around. Flame rounds do more damage long term because after the initial hit they continue to do burn damage to your enemies, so they really are an effective way to win the fight. This cheat is pure comedy. Enter it and you'll win pretty much any fist fight with a flick of the wrist and an explosive punch. Pow, indeed. This is similar to Michael's special ability in that it gives you a bullet time cheat but can be applied to any of the three characters. You can enter it up to four times, with each entry slowing down time further. The fifth time you enter it you'll return to normal time. Grand Theft Auto 5 is all about the vehicles. It has it all; sports cars, off-road, novelty rides, bikes, dad cars, helicopters, jet planes and a whole lot more. It even has a submarine. So when the main game is over and you want to explore, race or just mess about doing donuts, these are the vehicles for you. Probably the most fun you can have on four wheels in GTA 5. This badboy is bullet proof, sounds like farts in Hell, and punches other vehicles off the freeway. You'll never go back to another muscle car. As this was added post-release, you can only spawn this using the in-game phone. The Kraken is handy for exploring underwater and finding hidden treasure amongst the depths. Note that you have to spawn this on console using the phone, there isn't a regular cheat code for it. Boats are generally a bit rubbish in GTA 5, so we prefer to use the Dodo as you can fly to any mission that requires water and land close by. On console you'll need to enter this cheat via the phone by pressing up on the d-pad. This is one of the most fun sports cars to race in GTA 5. It's perfect for tearing up the highway. Another popular racer, it handles well and is ideal for a quick getaway if the five-0 are on your ass. If you want max speed and the chance you'll fling yourself off into oncoming traffic at any moment, may we recommend the PCJ? It's lethal. The Sanchez is an ideal off-road all-rounder. Take it up Mount Chiliad and blaze it down the other side. The Buzzard is a favourite chopper, fully equipped with heat-seeking rockets and a machine gun. Hours of fun. Don't get over confident and think you can instantly do amazing stunts. You can, of course, but you'll need to practise. Are golf carts fun? We guess so, especially if driven at the same time as you apply the drunk cheat. It turns like a tank, has a crap top speed and barely fits around the tighter streets of Los Santos. Spawn yourself a limo! This is a slow municipal truck but it's actually great for blocking streets off and it's as tough as old boots. This is ridiculous and always worth a few hours of fun. Enter this cheat and every vehicle will lose its grip, slipping and sliding all over the place. The next set of codes we want to look at are based around movement and the world around you, and will help you navigate Los Santos a little easier. If you're a fan of chaos and explosions you'll probably find yourself out in the desert without a ride. If that's the case, just enter this cheat code to help you run at max speed all the time without having to tap your run button. No one likes swimming in GTA 5. But sometimes you'll end up in the drink and the need to find dry land. Enter this cheat to swim as fast as possible. Ever bailed out of a burning plane and realised you'd forgotten something? Or gotten to the top of Mount Chiliad and felt the urge to leap off the top? You'll need this handy cheat, which literally spawns you a parachute right when you need it. You know when Trevor gets off his head and wanders around with blurred vision and unresponsive controls? This is that. Ideal for use at the weekend after a long week of tedious work. We've never really been sure about the point of this cheat. It basically spawns you in mid air without a parachute. Los Santos looks as beautiful in the rain as it does in the blazing sunshine. Experience all the weather GTA 5 has to offer and cycle through them all with this cheat. Much like the cheat to slow down aiming, this slows down the entire world. Enter it up to four times to really slow things down, and then a fifth time to bring everything back to the regular space time continuum. Rockstar confirms what everyone suspected: Red Dead Online won't be getting any major new content. Who keeps buying Grand Theft Auto 5? We don't know, but there's enough of you to keep the numbers up for Take-Two. Modern Warfare 2: Can it recapture the glory days of Xbox Live? Jennifer Hale is the new voice of Bayonetta in Bayonetta 3. Wild Hearts gameplay video shows your character battling massive boars and a really big toad. If you click on a link and make a purchase we may receive a small commission. Read our editorial policy. Alternatively, if you're a pre-established player looking to bring over your wealth to some new hardware, we've got a guide on how to transfer your save data that should be a big help. Off the clock. Connor Makar 2 months ago. Sherif Saed 2 2 months ago. Connor Makar 1 3 months ago. Dom Peppiatt 2 4 months ago. Jim Trinca an hour ago. Stephany Nunneley 2 hours ago. Stephany Nunneley 3 hours ago. Where we jumping? Connor Makar 3 hours ago. Buy our t-shirts, yeah They're far more stylish than your average video game website tat. Explore our store.

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