#johns gonna turn the whole murder bathroom around

[jennilah]

Jenna, can you give us a rundown of who these Saw people are for everyone who follows you but has not seen and will never see the Saw franchise?

ok my beautiful and very accepting followers gather round i am going to try to provide you some basic context to these characters that feature heavily on this blog these days, and i HAVE smoked a bowl of weed already

majorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr fucking series spoilers for anyone who might actually kind of be interested

mkay first of all despite what my blog might lead you to believe, this guy is like. the OG antagonist. the main dude for the whole franchise even when hes not technically present for most plotlines. all of his scenes are baller af

his name is John Kramer and he is the original Jigsaw Killer. He truly believes he can rehabilitate people who dont appreciate their lives (or commit crimes or take advantage of people) by putting them in saw traps. he pretends its not personal but it totally is. hes always putting people he personally beefs with in traps.

hes deeply fucked up but also really fascinating tbh like the whole fun of his character is seeing what reason hes gonna come up with to justify his next atrocity and how he manipulates everyone around him into doing his bidding. hes a mastermind. hes also Peepaw. Peepaw is kind of crazy but we love Peepaw

This is Billy hes a puppet

Billy is good

This is Adam Stanheight everyones favorite dead boy

hes so funny and charming and is also such a sopping wet pathetic sad rat. everyone loves Adam. We love pretending Adam is gonna come back but hes been super dead for years

This is Lawrence Gordon the guy he was stuck in the bathroom with and he does, yes, saw his foot off to free himself from his chain. hes an oncologist

everyone loves shipping him with Adam, thats called Chainshipping and its very cute but also very sad

esp because Lawrence turns to the dark side and becomes an apprentice to Jigsaw and never went back to save Adam like he PROMISED what the FUCK

but also i love Apprentice!Lawrence because of all the nutty implications and what other fun it has given us (such as AUs where Adam lives and even sometimes joins Lawrence as an apprentice himself)

This is Amanda Young she has many,. haircuts

I LOVE HER I LOVE HER I LOVE HER I LOVE HER I LOVE HER I LOVE HER I LOVE HER 😭😭😭😭 Shes an apprentice to Jigsaw and his pseudo adopted daughter and they have such a fucked up and tragic found family with each other.

i love that shes messy and emotional and vengeful and sarcastic and battling personal demons and questioning whether John's "rehabilitation" method really works (aka saw traps) and being unsure if she can take up the mantle when he passes. but he believes in her. and god they make me fucking emotional

this is Lynn Denlon shes a doctor kidnapped to treat John's cancer. and people ship her with Amanda, thats Shotgunshipping. it goes pretty hard tbh

like their scenes go fucking crazy through a shipping lens oh my fucking god. actually they all do tbh thats part of the fun of shipping in this franchise

oh boy big sigh here we go

this is Detective Mark Hoffman who is unfortunately my favorite character and i am REALLy high now. if u ever get confused like MANY of us did, you can recognize him by his bitch lips and/or boobies. ugh im gonna throw up i hate his ass

that last one oh my fucking god

anyway hes actually awful but i love him so much and at first i was scared that i was the only one who did LMAO.. anyway he also gets recruited by Jigsaw as another apprentice when he was in a very dark place, having just killed the murderer of his little sister. he made it look like a saw trap to frame Jigsaw.

but Jigsaw found out & was like nuh uh bitch you're working for me now, or else I'm telling on you.

But then Hoffman was like guess what bitch I LOVE it here and i LOVE killing. he becomes the Jigsquad problem child and proceeds to kill or manipulate everyone he needed to so he could be the sole "Jigsaw" remaining. But he's sloppy and paranoid af so the FBI is on his ass from day 1. And the more he kills, the sloppier he gets, and the more frantic and unable to dig himself out of this hole he gets. and the more violent and crazy he gets. But the more crazy he gets, the more he keeps evading death like a cockroach. For real, watching his downfall was the major appeal of his character for me, and the start of my downfall..ing in love with him. lord almighty

anyway everyone hates his ass and we LOVE bullying him!!!!! he deserves it. for all of the atrocities hes committed and also because hes such a smarmy little shit. even Amanda bullies him

and then we have Peter Strahm who shows up and hates Hoffman immediately, as you do. u can tell its him from his ridiculous eyelashes

and, YEAH, YOUVE GUESSED IT......... PEOPLE LIKE TO SHIP HIM WITH HOFFMAN.......... I KNOW..... RIGHT.... COULDNT BE ME.......

Because he is Hoffman's biggest adversary for two movies, knowingly in one. It's a classic cat and mouse game.

Anyway we love Peter Strahm!!!!! He's also an asshole! He's extremely hotheaded and short tempered but extremely passionate about the case. like, his dedication goes crazy. He's also quite the sassy bitch himself

but its BECAUSE he is also caring and emotional, especially towards his work partner Lindsey Perez WHO WE LOVE BECAUSE SHES AMAZING AND CARING AND SHE'S BEEN PETER'S PARTNER AND FRIEND FOR 5 YEARS THEY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER I LOVE THEM

and those are the characters but ur probably like "what the fuck is up with the glass coffin" well my friends that is what us Hoffstrahmers refer to as our roman empire.

um i ran out of room for pictures :) but by now yall have seen the two traps reblogged and drawn by me a BILLION times, and those are: the water cube trap, and the glass coffin

so the deal with those:

the water cube trap: Strahm runs off to find Jigsaw himself after wildly following clues with no backup because he's so worked up from Perez getting hurt earlier and he sets off on revenge immediately. Hoffman catches him and puts him in the water cube.

It's meant to just kill him. he wasnt supposed to survive it. but Strahm is suddenly the main character when he fucking survives an unwinnable saw trap the fuckin crowd goes wild, it was fuckin sick dawg

and then through a series of Hoffman backstory flashbacks that he daydreams, he figures out the entirety of Hoffman's real secret identity and sets off to go catch him

and thats when he finds:

The Glass Coffin Trap: the instructions on the Jigsaw tape tell him to get into the coffin, it will hurt him but he will have a chance to survive. "do you trust me?" but he KNOWS its Hoffman and he doesnt trust that motherfucker so he doesnt get in. Hoffman approaches the scene, they get in a scuffle, and Strahm pushes him into the coffin and seals it.

but hoffman is like "neener neener poopoo you're an idiot" and tells him to listen to the rest of the tape. which tells him that if he doesnt get in the coffin, he's gonna fuckin die bro lmao rip

and so he does! hoffman, in the coffin, sinks into the ground like some cartoon villain and the walls close in and squeeze Strahm to death

anyway at first Coffinshipping to me was kind of a joke like just classic Asshole x Asshole, Enemies to Lovers, Hero x Villain shenanigans. Teehee what if they KISSED... in the COFFIN... and all.

but then i read exactly 1 fic and i was completely convinced entirely of the angst possibilities of these two. the "what if"s that were possible with them. the little Hoffstrahm community i found has been so fucking awesome their ideas are so fucking fun, and I'm having so much fun thinking of art of them and fics of them and ugh i love it here

#saw #jennilargh #jenna answers #coffinshipping #hoffstrahm

[obxsummer]

Freedom // Ghost of You

summary: escaping ward cameron felt like an impossible task, especially when he had you right where he wanted you. that is, until wheezie cameron flips an uno reverse card and holy shit, john b's coming home.

warnings: violence, injuries, severe depression, anxiety attacks a/n: the whole legal situation is a bit of a stretch bc i suck at legality terms and such so, it's a bit fictional here just a heads up

navigation -- series masterlist

If you thought Rafe Cameron was your nightmare, Ward Cameron was your personal hell. Not only were you back in the same room, but your idea of privacy had been thrown out the door completely. There were cameras in your room, save the bathroom where it would get completely unethical, but any hope of a late night sneak out with the new generators and security was beyond possible. 

Your dad used to always say it was best to never say you’ve hit rock bottom because you can always go lower. This moment right here, was your lower. Ward Cameron pulled you into his office next door with no explanation until he smacked a pile of papers in front of you.

“You’re testifying against John B, in court, tomorrow.”

Laughter followed the statement and you couldn’t even stop yourself. It turned hysterical seconds later when you realized he was serious. “You’re fucking delusional if you think I’m going to testify under oath against my brother.”

Ward’s expression turned even colder if possible. “You will. You will because I have insiders who will make sure his life ends if you don’t.” He slid a newspaper towards you with your brother’s face front and center. The headline in big letters read: “INMATE ATTACKED IN CUSTODY”. Your stomach sank at the letters before Ward pulled it from your grasp before you could read any further. You were none the wiser to know it was fake, moreso a telling of what would happen in a night, but it did Ward’s job of scaring the shit out of you. 

“I will make sure your brother does not walk out of that prison alive.”

“He’s gonna die regardless if I testify, do you realize that?” You stood up with anger, throwing a hand out in frustration. “My brother is facing life in prison because you’re a fucking murderer, Ward Cameron, and so is your son!”

Pressure came down heavy on the shoulder you had dislocated in defending John B from Deputy Thomas. In the rush of adrenaline, you hadn’t even noticed but Ward found out when you were brought back with an EMT report and a sling around your arm, and clearly, he was using it to your advantage.

“You testify, do you hear me? Or I will make sure it’s the last thing you do,” He whispered harshly as he pushed his fingers harder into your shoulder.

You gasped in pain, sinking back into the chair below you to remove his hand. You were so sick of crying but it seemed to happen everyday you were here. There was no escape no matter what you did, no peace of mind. 

“You’re real bold to think I already don’t want to die here, with you,” You sneered as you glared up at him. You refused to let this man think he had any influence on you after all he’s done. “You have taken everything from me. Everything. I don’t owe you shit.”

Ward shrugged in annoyance. “Maybe so, but I will make sure there is no chance that the Routledge name goes beyond that courtroom tomorrow, and I will make sure your friends regret every second they avenge you. That I promise.”

You shook your head softly. No matter what you said, Ward would find one way to make you feel threatened and you knew that, but you also knew he would follow through no matter what. It was a matter of playing your cards correctly and hoping you could pull it off. “Fine. I’ll testify, but then they would have to let JJ, Kie, Pope, and Sarah do it too and you have no control over what’s said on that stand.”

You could tell the frustration in his eyes was about to burst but you didn’t care. You wouldn’t risk interfering with evidence and lying in court to protect Ward Cameron for shit. He had taken everything from you and your family. You weren’t about to help him keep this false empire he claimed to control.

With a snide smirk, you watched as he slammed his desk organizers to the ground in anger. You were right, he knew that, so now what power did he hold? Now what could he do? You had him in the perfect spot and he was a little too far in over his head. 

“This isn’t over, Y/N. We’re leaving for court at 9:00 AM tomorrow and you will not be saying a single word to anyone while we’re there, do you understand?”

Standing up from the chair to storm past him, you rolled your eyes and flipped him off with your good arm. “Eat shit, Ward.” Moving quickly to get out of his presence, you slammed the door of your room shut, not even bothering to try and go anywhere else. Injured and out of your usual headspace, there wasn’t a chance you’d make it further than the front door. Your best bet was going to the court appearance tomorrow in hopes that Wheezie had made progress while you were hiding. 

--

The feeling of everyone’s eyes were heavy on you as you sat crammed between Ward and Rafe in the courtroom. JJ kept trying to meet your gaze but you refused to look up from your lap where you were nervously pulling at the seams of your sweater. Ward had basically pushed you out of the car and directly in the building despite the reporters outside and his 15 seconds of fame he was surely craving.

Your heart was in your throat the second you realized Ward was actually serious about you coming to court. You weren’t emotionally prepared to see your brother in this condition, nor were you ready to see your friends either. The tension in the air was almost suffocating as your legs bounced continuously beneath you out of anxiousness. 

The sound of the gavel hitting the stand had you choking on your breath as you looked up to see John B walking in the room. The bright orange jumpsuit was hard to miss as your brother stood behind the table next to a woman who you assumed was his lawyer. 

John B looked around the room with an exhausted gaze. He felt hopeless, for the first time in his life that nothing would save him from this. Seeing you, looking small and defeated in between the Camerons, he wanted to crumble right there. He promised, he had promised you that he wouldn’t let it happen again and here he was. Despite being in his current position, he had to do something.

“John Booker Routledge, pursuant to the North Carolina statute section 14, you are charged with murder in the first degree with aggravated circumstances. If convicted, the maximum sentence would be the death penalty.”

Your lungs were suddenly suffocating you at the notion that if there wasn’t proof John B didn’t kill Peterkin, that he could die. That he wouldn’t be here, and Ward Cameron would win. The world seemed to blur as conversation erupted in the courtroom.

“Your honor, he’s seventeen!” JJ’s voice rose above the rest as he got to his feet. Kiara tried to pull him away but the distress was evident. “He’s seventeen! Are you kidding me?”

Ward was quick to put a hand on your shoulder as they stood up to leave the room, directing you right past your friends. Fingers brushing JJ’s for a split second, his attention snapped to you instantly. He wasn’t about to lose another Routledge. “Y/N.” 

Ward pushed harder as JJ called your name again, Pope, Kie, and Sarah scrambling after him as you walked into the sunlight. You wanted to throw up at the horrible comments being thrown around you about your brother that were going in one ear and out the other. These people had no idea. They had no idea of who walked amongst them and who shot that gun that day.

“Mr. Cameron, I’m so sorry for what you and your family have gone through. Thank God the system works,” Some random man next to you spoke with Ward. You rolled your eyes, refusing to look away from the ground as you wrapped your arms around yourself for some form of comfort.

“Can you please shut up?” Kiara’s voice forced everyone to stop walking as she snapped. “Of course you think the system worked because it was made to protect you and people like you.”

The man almost laughed at her factual statement. “He’ll have his day in court. A jury will decide.”

Kiara wasn’t backing down though and kept pushing. “He shouldn’t even be in court. You should, because you’re a murderer!” She shouted, pointing a finger at Ward Cameron. “You have a lot of nerve showing up here, dragging Y/N to see her brother like that, after all you’ve done to their family.”

“I know you’re upset. I understand you’re upset, okay? I know he’s got you fooled. He’s got you all fooled.”

“No, I’m not just upset!” Kie rushed forward, ready to get into an altercation before Shoupe stepped in front of her, more chaos and yelling following. “There’s a reason your daughter’s sitting with us!”

Your ears were ringing as you looked between both groups. The arguing wasn't slowing down anytime soon. Your heart had yet to stop racing from the moment the death penalty was given and now, the sensory overload threatened to consume you whole. 

“Just shut up!” You finally screamed at the top of your lungs, voice cracking with the effort as it stunned everyone into silence. For once, Shoupe’s gaze was sympathetic as he looked at you. Sometimes you wondered if he ever noticed the difference in the fun person you used to be versus who you had turned into. 

Throwing your arms out, you slowly backed out of the Camerons grasp. “All of you! Shouting and bickering doesn’t make anyone less of a victim, for fuck’s sake! I’ve had it. The rumors are disgusting. The lies are even worse but at the end of the day, that’s my brother in there!” Your voice threatened to give out any second as you pointed towards the now empty courthouse. Tears were already dripping down your cheeks as you choked through a breath. “That’s my brother and everything, every little thing, has already been taken from us. He’s all I have left anymore. So I don’t want to hear your fake unwelcome sympathy for the liars you call the Camerons and all that they’ve “lost” nor do I want to hear this bullshit about the system working for my family because it has yet to work so far in the Pogues’ favor ever.”

“Until now.” Wheezie’s voice broke the heavy silence as you turned to look at her. The smirk on her face was triumphant and it made you nervous. She pulled a stack of papers from her backpack and handed them towards you with a smile. “Y/N Routledge, you’ve achieved emancipation. Your shift at The Wreck starts tomorrow at 9:00 AM under Mike Carrera and you’re free to return home.”

You looked at the papers shaking in your hands to see everything she had stated to be true. “Oh, my God. Wheezie!” Moving forward, you grasped the younger girl in the tightest hug possible. 

“What? What is this?” Ward barked out in anger as he looked at you and his youngest child. “Shoupe?”

The newly appointed sheriff sighed at the redirection of attention. “It’s true, Ward. Confirmation came across my desk this morning. She’s out of your custody.”

Letting go of Wheezie the tears of relief came pouring as JJ, Kie, and Pope attacked you with hugs. Sarah herself ran to her sister, pulling her into a tight embrace as you listened to Ward shout in anger. This was your chance. This was the moment you could change everything.

Your friends released you to look at the documents with their own eyes, the papers now in Pope’s hands as JJ pulled you into another hug. One hand tucked in your hair, the other rubbing your back, you realized this was the first real hug you’d had since John B disappeared. Nothing felt as emotional, moreso broken apologies until this one. 

Looking up from JJ’s shoulder, you threw up your middle finger to the man staring at you. “Like I said. Eat shit, Ward Cameron.”

--

Wheezie Cameron was a gift and the moment you stepped onto the Chateau porch, you swore you owed that girl the world. Ward was less than pleased but the moment Shoupe confirmed your freedom, you ran out of sight with your friends to Kie’s waiting car. 

Thunder boomed above you but you couldn’t even let the rain affect your mood. You were just so glad to be back home. The first thing you did was shower before finding one of Pope’s t-shirts in the mess of your bedroom to wear with some pajama shorts. Your shoulder was still sore but you couldn’t be bothered to care as you tossed the sling aside. A sliver of deja vu ran up your spine as you thought of your brother tossing his cast away after breaking his wrist without a care. Concern still lingered in the back of your mind for John B but if you were back full force, you knew you had a better chance of thinking clearly.

Walking back out to your friends, Kiara was the first one to reach out and pull you into her arms as you let out a deep breath. “Hi,” She whispered in your ear causing you to let out a small laugh before returning her greeting and squeezing her tightly. 

There was a weight lifted off your shoulders at the notion of freedom, of being released from something that’s caused so much pain for so long. You knew the emotional rollercoaster from here would be rough but at least you had people to help you through it.

Pope wrapped you in a hug next, pressing a soft kiss against your hair as he mumbled a welcome back in support. JJ stopped his anxious pacing to hold you tightly to his chest, the soft rocking movement making you tear up as you ran your fingers down the back of his worn t-shirt. He was slowly going crazy without you and John B but knowing he was one step closer to normalcy was like a breath of fresh, cool air on a humid day.

You took everyone by surprise when you reached for Sarah who stood sheepishly a few feet away. The blonde hesitantly moved forward until you closed the gap and hugged her tightly. You could feel her body shake in your grasp as she started sobbing. Emotions had been running wild since their return from Nassau and you had convinced yourself to bring peace to the situation as best as you could. It took a lot of almost undeserving empathy to forgive her for basically selling you and John B out to her dad, but when you think you won’t survive something, it’s hard to hold a heavy grudge.

“It’s okay,” You spoke just as she choked out an apology. “Sarah, it’s okay.”

She only seemed to cry harder and you refused to let go of her until she calmed down enough to breathe normally. Stepping away, she gave you a grateful smile to which you returned. You had a moment of realization that life is way too short to hate people with good intentions and Sarah wouldn’t directly harm any of you. She was just like you in so many ways - someone struggling to keep it together in the midst of blame and loss of family.

JJ’s hands were suddenly on your hips, pulling you until your back rested against his chest and he could comfortably wrap his arms around you to hold you close. Your hands came to grasp his arms gently as Sarah started the conversation back up. 

“I’m going to testify under oath. I was there. I just need to get ahold of Wheezie. Kie, do you have your phone?” She took the device that was handed to her. “Wheezie is the only other person that knows Rafe wasn’t home that day. I don’t know what else to do. I got us into this mess and I’m gonna do my best to get us out.”

JJ scoffed behind you, his action shaking your body lightly as Sarah stepped inside the house. “Wheezie? Yeah, that’ll work. She’s right about one thing. We gotta do something. Our boy is a PO-dub right now, okay? He’s held captive by the enemy right now, maybe even scheduled for execution. Are we just gonna sit here?”

The word drove a knife right through your throat as you pulled yourself from JJ’s grasp in shock. Hearing it, no matter how many times you did, was still just as shaking as the first time. You felt like throwing up as you sat down against the screen door.

“What’s the plan?” Kie barked back irritated. “We kidnap Shoupe?”

JJ shrugged. “Maybe. Like, that’s not the worst idea actually.”

“Oh, it’s not?”

“No!”

“That is actually the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s pretty bad,” Sarah quipped from around the corner.

JJ groaned loudly, “You know what, please just stay out of this. Okay. Pope, look. We’ve been doing everything your way and how has that been working out, huh?”

“Okay, okay. So what’s your plan? You gonna storm a jail, guns ablazing?” Pope retaliated. A headache was forming in the front of your skull as you listened to them shout back and forth. Pressing a palm against your forehead, you tried to breathe through the pressure building in your chest and throat as it threatened to choke you.

“Look Pope. All I’m trying to get you to understand is they got our boy. Are we just gonna sit here and do nothing? No! We’re gonna go get his ass. We’re gonna do something about it!”

JJ’s voice slowly dipped in and out of your head as you tried to blink your vision clear. Eyes closing harshly when that didn’t help, you placed your head in your hands and leaned against your knees. The world felt twisted and the chills running up and down your spine were turning prickly. Trying to force air in your lungs wasn’t helping in the slightest either and you just wished you would fall asleep where you were.

“Y/N!” Kie’s voice was foggy and you could barely feel her hands touching you. “Let go!”

You didn’t know what she was referring to, but you couldn’t move in the slightest. Everything was frozen, tight, and painful. Moving meant waking back up, it meant facing the reality that your brother was going to die and there was nothing you could do about it.

“Y/N let go, it’s gonna be okay.”

It’s gonna be okay.

It’s gonna be okay.

“Come on, baby bird! It’s gonna be okay!”

The sun was bright as it reflected off the water. The fluffy sand was hot beneath your toes and you cursed yourself for not wearing shoes. The surfboard in your arms was heavy and the decision to come to the beach suddenly felt wrong as you shifted in your spot.

“I’m serious, you’re gonna do great. Why would I lie to you?” John B was suddenly back in your line, board of his own in hand. His skin was clammy as he placed a hand on your shoulder, guiding you towards the water. “I promise, it’s gonna be okay. You’ll probably fall but don’t worry. I’m gonna be right here to help, and we’re gonna ride one in together. Just you wait.”

“Babe, you’ve gotta take a deep breath and relax. I’m right here.” 

Eyes snapping open, you jumped in your spot as your back slammed against the wall behind you. Your hands released their grip from your head, crescent marks in your skin from how hard you were holding on. JJ’s blue eyes were the first thing you focused on before you were launching yourself up on shaky legs and storming into the house.

“Y/N! Wait!” 

Stumbling through the messy house, your hip caught the corner of the counter. Grunting at the impact, you ripped the fridge door open to grab a water bottle out before slamming the door harshly. Bodies followed you into the house but you didn’t bother to wait as you moved into your room and closed the door behind you. 

Facade crumbling, your back hit the door and slid down the worn wood. Tears were warm against your cheeks as you took a big breath, your chest heaving with the effort. You were exhausted. Mentally and physically exhausted beyond your limits. It felt like you could sleep for a month or maybe even more. Keeping up nonstop and trying to be strong for everyone wasn’t easy when all you wanted to do was collapse into pieces. 

This kind of suffocation was the kind that couldn’t be fixed with screaming in a pillow and trying to cry it out. This was the kind of suffocation that had you curious how long you could hold your breath underwater without coming back up. The kind that made you want to lay in bed and never get up for anything. 

You’ve been fighting a heavy battle for way, way too long and even though you were a strong person, the cracks had so much weight the foundation was shattering. You needed to heal, to sort through your shit instead of diving headfirst into even more situations. Rebuilding was hard but rebuilding with unknown terrain and rough weather was even harder.

You were trying to act like you could do this all without John B but it was hard. Your brother had been your biggest support system since you could remember, even before your dad disappeared. Now it was just you and your friends. As much as you loved them, they weren’t always as in tune with you as John B was. Sure, he was your brother and you got pissed at him often, but he grew up looking out for you and helping you do the things he wished someone helped him with. But now it was you, you and four other teens who were looking back at you for leadership that only your brother could provide. 

--

JJ was used to the inside of Kildare County’s Jail. He was no stranger to the loud banging, the ridiculous protocols, and the bland gray decor. Usually he was here to get his dad, but this time was different.​​ Instead of saying his dad’s name to the man at the front desk, he’s shouting, “I’m here to see John B. Routledge,” in a tone that you would scold him for. He knew he was being a dick and it would only get him in trouble but this is how JJ coped with things like this.

Officer Plumb led him through the halls as inmates cursed and yelled at him before he settled into the doorway of the visitor’s room. It was cold and dark but JJ’s eyes focused on the bright orange jumpsuit that covered his best friend. The door shut quietly as Plumb barked out a 10 minute warning as JJ took a seat at the lunch room style table.

He couldn’t stop the smile from forming on his face at the awkwardness in the room before he and John B broke out into laughter. “I thought it was gonna be me,” JJ admitted to break the silence.

John B gave a small nod. “I did too.”

“It was you.”

“Yeah. Welcome to my humble abode.”

JJ didn’t bother to glance around the room. “Yeah, when you said you had a new apartment, I had no idea.”

“How is she?”

JJ winced at the abrupt question. “Uhhh, Sarah? She’s uh… she’s fine. She misses you, alot. Ya know? Hard for her to see you in court the other day and-”

“I’m talking about Y/N, JJ,” John B clarified as he anxiously awaited the answer. He had been thinking of you nonstop since he saw you with the Camerons in the courtroom. “I’m… I’m glad Sarah’s with you guys and she’s okay but I… I need to know if Y/N’s okay.”

It was the question that had been asked a few too many times. Were you okay? You didn’t even know. JJ was terrified about whether you were okay. He hadn’t seen you leave your room except for a handful of times and that was two days ago. The guilt was beginning to gnaw at him that he set you off the way he did. 

“She’s um… she’s home. At the Chateau. Sarah’s sister got her emancipated right under Ward’s nose and she left with us that day after court. She’s not doing too hot, though.” He waved his hand dismissively. Not because he wasn’t worried about it, but because he didn’t need John B to stress about anything else. “I’ve got her, it’s just gonna take some time. You know?”

John B frowned at the lack of confirmation that you were doing fine. He knew he had a lot to fix in his relationship with you and he just really hoped he’d have the chance to do so. Unfortunately, the topic was dismissed as JJ started spewing off the real reason he came to visit John B - to break him out.

--

You kept to yourself for the next few days. JJ was on his escape jail escapade, Sarah was still trying to get anything from Wheezie, and Kie and Pope were busy doing their Kie/Pope Things. You took the time to clean your room, moving furniture and reorganizing basically the whole house. You had to occupy your mind with something, anything that would keep you from thinking about everything else. 

Starting your job at the Wreck was terrifying but Mr. Carerra was so helpful and understanding of your situation. You almost feared he would judge you because of the drama surrounding your family but he kept you behind the counter and out of the watchful eyes of tourons and sparse Kooks so you were grateful.

You had avoided going into John B’s room for as long as possible but it came to be the last room to clean and you had no choice. His room was messy but it brought you comfort as you stepped inside for the first time in months. Random surf supplies, worn t-shirts, and shoes crowded the ground. You maneuvered around it all, coming to take a seat on his bed. Just outside the window, you could see Kie, Pope, and JJ in the surf shack messing around pointlessly. They had tried a few times to talk to you to which you kept short and simple. You hoped they weren’t mad at you, but it was hard to take everyone’s pity stares.

Looking to your left, your eye caught the photo framed on John B’s nightstand. There weren’t very many photos of you, your brother, and your dad together except this one. It was your 12th birthday, the same one you received your surfboard for and you remembered all of your friends showing up for the occasion. Kiara had just received a disposable camera for Christmas and took photos of everything including your dad and brother hovering behind you as you blew out your candles. A small tear left your eye as you brushed specks of dust off the glass. If only you had both of them now.

“Bout time you cried over me.”

You would’ve bet money that you were hallucinating when you looked up and made eye contact with John Booker Routledge. You blinked a few times, convincing yourself that he was real before launching off his bed and into his awaiting arms. 

“Oh, my God, you’re back. You’re back.” Soft cries left your throat as you clutched him tightly, fingers tugging his shirt a little too hard. He recognized the mess of his room against the clean and reorganized house, knowing you probably struggled to bring yourself to do it. 

The energy in the Chateau was so positive as your friends celebrated in the kitchen with shotgunned beers. It took a bit of time before you let go of John B and regained your composure. His eyes drifted over the bruising of your shoulder that wasn’t hidden by your tank top. “We have a lot to talk about,” He mumbled.

You nodded, your own eyes scanning the bruises by his neck that had you flashing back to Ward’s newspaper he tossed in front of you. “Yeah, we do.”

“But first, let’s find Sarah Cameron.”

--

tags:

@strawberryfolks @jinxfirebolt18902 @lnnlove

navigation -- series masterlist

#goy series #outer banks netflix #outer banks x reader #obx x reader #outer banks one shot #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #jj maybank x reader #john b routledge imagine #jj maybank x routledge!reader #pogues x routledge!reader #routledge!reader #john b x sister!reader #john b x reader #kiara carrera imagine #pogues x reader #obx series #jj maybank series #routledge!reader series

[imaginesbymonika]

It all tastes like poison.

Part 11.

previous chapter

Pairing: Homelander x fem!reader / Solider Boy x fem!reader

Plot: based on this request: “can you please write an imagine about someone who use to be with soldier boy before he "died» which left her broken, but she still worked with vought for years because she ages slower than normal and she meets homelander who she kinda falls for, but when ben comes back she gets mixed emotions till he tries to kill homelander and then she'll have to work with everyone else to get him back into the box, which she doesn't want to do. LIKE ANGST?”

warnings: f-bombs, mentions of death and murder, mentions of blood, mentions of some werid family dynamics, plot twist at the end

"Where is Y/N?", Billy asks, while he looks over at Soldier Boy. Ben is leaning against the wall, cleaning out his weapons. "You mean ever since she found out that she has been dating her boyfriend's son? She locked herself in the bathroom, with a bottle of Rum."

"Well, Homelander ain't really Soldier Boy's son, and they both know it."

Ben perks up from the gun in his hand, and his gaze falls upon the two men. He scoffs. "Anyway, Soldier Boy? Could you perhaps try to get Y/N out of there", Billy asks and points towards the bathroom door, before he puts on his coat:" We've got to go. We'll swing by the office and grab some more V. And then Hughie will jump us to where the cunts are. Since Noir is no longer a problem, we go straight to Homelander. Then we are finished. Right?"

Ben licks his lips and places his gun on the table. He doesn't respond, instead, he just makes his way towards the bathroom.

----

"Homelander is Soldier Boy's fucking what?!"

"Homelander's father.", Hughie explains and looks at a wide-eyed Maeve:" Biologically, at least." Everyone is staring at him in confusion and turmoil. "So put them in a room together, are they gonna fight or fucking hug?"

"We don't know."

M.M. who is leaning against the kitchen counter crosses his arms:" What about Y/N?" A chuckle leaves Maeve's lips and she runs a hand down her face:" I forgot about her- gosh, fucking her 'presumed deceased' boyfriend's son. That information must have been a fucking gut punch."

"Well, about that.", Hughie begins:" Soldier Boy and Y/N have both been acting, uh, weird. But Butcher..." "If there's a snowball chance that Butcher can take down Homelander, he's gonna take it."

"I don't care what your orders are, I'm Starlight, and I'm telling you that you need to evacuate the Tower now.", Annie who reentered the living room makes furious hand movements, while holding her phone close to her ear: "Because Soldier Boy is alive and he's real, and he's gonna f... oh, fucking you fucking stupid...Fuck. There are a couple thousand people in that building. I mean if he pulls a Herogasm, he's gonna take the whole fucking place down."

"Then we take down Soldier Boy before he gets to Homelander."

Hughie shakes his head:" We need to take down Y/N first, if she's around she won't even let you get anywhere near him." M.M. glances at him:" You think that she is going to side with him, despite Homelander?" Hughie let out a weak breath:" I mean, after all, she killed Black Noir. If she smells you, intending to hurt the man she has loved for decades- you're a dead man."

----

Y/N stares into the mirror. From outside the bathroom, she can hear how Butcher and Ben talk to each other, but it feels distant. Those last 24 hours have felt like a never-ending pain, and reckoning how she would probably have to face Homelander soon- gosh, this nightmare was coming to life. At a rapid speed.

The woman looks herself into the eyes and wonders if their connection has been the reason why she fell for John. If she somehow smelt Ben- or saw him in John.

The sound of other voices engaging with Butcher’s catches Y/N's attention and she instantly walks out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Her eyes immediately flicker green when they settle on M.M.

As soon as her eyes travel down onto his gun, it turns into green slime and M.M. lets out a minor disgusted noise as he takes a step back.

"Where is Soldier Boy?", Annie asks, not taking her eyes off Y/N. Hughie walks up to Butcher:" If Soldier Boy goes through with this, thousands will die. Help us stop him."

But the man in front of him shakes his head:" This ain't a bloody kinder care we're on about, son. It's Vought fucking Tower."

"Becca worked in the tower."

Y/N furrows her eyebrows when she sees how Frenchies comment hit a nerve within Butcher and all heads turn when she asks:" Who's Becca?"

#angst #x reader #imagine #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #homelander #homelander x reader #the boys imagine #the boys x reader #billy butcher #hughie campbell #soldier boy fic #the boys s3

[cart-a-hearts]

A page from Johns 'How to Parent Homicidal Adults" book

#saw #saw 2 #saw 3 #amanda young #mark hoffman #my art #illustration #johns gonna turn the whole murder bathroom around

[ragingpancake]

How To Woo Your Scientist In 100 Cookies or Less

Rodney has a secret admirer. Prompt fic. See end of fic for prompt. ~1800 words.

The first time it appears is the morning after the ridiculous mission to M5-X847 (more accurately described as ‘Planet of the Bat-Shit Crazy Natives and Their Ridiculous Trading Ceremonies’ in the privacy of Rodney’s own mind and in the not-so-nearly private mess hall whenever anyone else brings it up). It’s left sitting on his desk by his absolute favorite computer on a folded up napkin from the mess hall, taunting him.

He’s still staring at it as if it holds the secrets to recharging a ZPM, the cure for male pattern baldness and the name of the man Carly Simon wrote a song about when John ambles in for his obligatory weekly hour of light switch duty.

“Ooh, cookie,” he says. Rodney smacks his hand away with a squawk of indignation.

“Mine!”

“Well, are you gonna eat it or just stare at it?”

Rodney settles for the latter while John unfairly makes Atlantis and all of her Ancient Tech roll over for him like the complete slut she is. Besides, he argues silently, it wouldn’t be the first time someone’s tried to kill him with baked goods. It’s always better to be safe than sorry.

Fifty nine minutes and fifty eight seconds later, John plucks the cookie off of the napkin and pops it into his mouth, crunching loudly and spewing crumbs everywhere.

“What did you do that for?” Rodney bellows.

“Just makin’ sure it was safe and citrus free,” John says with a toothy grin. “Next time, you’ll know. Cya later buddy,” he says and ambles back out of the room without a care in the world.

“Next time? How do you know there will be a next time?” Rodney yells after him. “How do you know?”

—-

There is, oddly enough, a ‘next time’. The next morning when Rodney stumbles into his lab, bleary eyed after a late night watching terrible movies and eating horrifyingly greasy food (thank you, Daedalus) with John, there’s another cookie sitting innocently on his desk, silently begging to be eaten. He’s still worried about the possibility of an assassination attempt but he rationalizes that no one is really going to use precious chocolate chips just to murder him so he lifts it up, sniffs it and then shoves it greedily into his mouth.

Less than hour later, he’s still alive and wishing he had another.

—-

By the fifth cookie, Rodney stops checking for the possibility of citrus-laced baked goods. Clearly, someone finally appreciates his genius and has decided the best way to thank him is to ply him with delicious sweet treats.

For once, Rodney doesn’t complain.

——

“Another one?” John asks, eying the 30th cookie longingly. “How many is that now?”

“I don’t know. I’ve lost count,” Rodney lies.

John just snorts in response.

——

“This is getting out of hand,” Kavanagh gripes. “How come we’re not allowed to eat around the computers, but he never says anything about that damn cookie appearing every morning? Why doesn’t Sh—”

Radek steps on Kavanagh’s foot and Miko’s elbow catches him in the side. Kavanagh squeaks and then miraculously falls silent.

Rodney eyes his scientists suspiciously “Why doesn’t who do what?”

“Nothing,” Radek says. “Is nothing but idiotic mumblings of a jealous man.”

“Jealous. Yeah, right,” Kavanagh snorts under his breath.

Rodney is still not convinced and he spends the rest of the day trying to bully Kavanagh into telling him exactly what’s going on.

Kavanagh is gleeful at the idea of knowing something that Rodney doesn’t.

—

“Hey Rodney?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you ever wonder who’s sending you cookies?”

Rodney eats the last bite of his cookie and glances over at John. “Not really, no. Don’t really care either, as long as they keep coming.”

“Oh.”

John goes back to touching uncatalogued Ancient tech while Rodney practically has oral sex with the left-over chocolate on his fingers. Rodney’s so caught up in his little delicious world that he doesn’t even notice when the device starts glowing in an ominous way.

“Uh… Rodney.”

Three seconds later, John’s unconscious on the floor and Rodney’s yelling into his headset for a medical team.

——

The next day, there is no cookie.

——

By the third cookieless day, Rodney decides that maybe Atlantis was the secret Cookie Fairy, because whoever it was is clearly pissed off that he almost killed John.

——

“I brought you something,” Rodney announces as soon as he palms the door to John’s room open. It’s the only room, other than his own that he’s ever been able to get into without resorting to screwing around with the crystals. He’s never questioned it, but now he’s grateful that John never had the urge to lock him out.

“Been stockpiling the goods from your Cookie Fairy?” John asks grumpily. Rodney cuts him slack because he knows he still has a killer headache from that damn piece of Ancient Tech.

“No,” Rodney says. “I uh, actually made these for you, and by ‘made these for you’, I really mean I bribed the kitchen staff with an extra ten minutes of hot water in the mornings but um, yeah. I got them. For you.”

John gives him an odd look and Rodney wonders if maybe there’s brain damage that Keller missed on the scans. Wouldn’t be the first time, he thinks bitterly.

“It’s just… you seemed to always be hanging around when I had my cookie and I uh… know that I wasn’t exactly willing to share with you even though I know chocolate chip is your favorite. But that’s not the point. The point… the point is… I screwed up that day. I should have been paying more attention to what you were doing and I wasn’t and I’m sorry and, and, and will you just say something and stop looking at me like that?”

John gives him a slight smile. “Thanks Rodney. You wanna watch a movie?”

For the first time since the cookies stopped coming, Rodney feels like he can breathe again.

——

The next morning, there’s still no cookie, though Rodney really didn’t expect there to be. He doesn’t even really care, because while he acquired the cookies for John the previous evening, he’s the one who ate almost the whole damn plate and if he never sees another chocolate chip cookie again, it’ll be too damn soon.

He has a lot of catching up to do because ever since John got hurt on his watch, he hasn’t exactly been able to concentrate on his work and damn if it hasn’t piled up already.

He powers up his computer and scowls at the stack of papers littering his workspace. Grabbing a handful, he flips through them and then discards them like the complete and utter trash they are. Kavanagh never could finish up the simplest of equations.

He’s just about to log in to the network with the corner of a piece of paper sticking from under his keyboard catches his eye. He frowns and pulls it out. The handwriting is vaguely familiar.

Meet me at the East Pier. 1800 hours. -Cookie Fairy

Rodney doesn’t know whether to be flattered or frightened. He just hopes that whoever the Cookie Fairy is, they’ve forgiven him as easily as John has.

——

The doors to the East Pier slide open with ease and Rodney can’t stop the nervous flutter in the pit of his stomach. The sun is already beginning to set in the Lantean sky, casting a gentle glow over the calm water. Leaning against the railing, there’s a familiar set of slouched shoulders and a crop of dark, messy hair.

“John?”

He turns and gives Rodney a nervous grin. “Hey buddy.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand. What are you… what are you doing here?”

He holds out the plate of chocolate chip cookies. “Uh… surprise?”

For once, the great Rodney McKay is completely speechless.

John clears his throat and shifts nervously from one foot to the next. He sets the plate of cookies down on the railing and rubs at the back of his reddening neck. “So I guess you… Uh, I guess this really isn’t what you were expecting.”

“No,” Rodney says dumbly, because he really wasn’t. Miko? Sure. Simpson? Maybe. But John Sheppard? John fucking Sheppard? Not in a million years. “Why?”

”M5-X847."

“The marriage ceremony? The one where they made you put stupid flowers in your hair and, and, and…”

“That’s the one.”

“But why?” Rodney asks, because he needs to know.

“Because I wanted it to be real,” John blurts out. His ears are absolutely flaming at this point and Rodney’s sure they’re going to spontaneously combust if they get any brighter. “I needed… I needed you to know and I didn’t know how to tell you so I…”

“You baked. For me.”

“Every day.”

“Until you got hurt.”

“Well, yeah. It was kind of difficult when standing long enough to get to the bathroom was a chore. I was… I wanted to tell you that day, but you didn’t… you said you didn’t want to know.”

“I was afraid it was Kavanagh or some other equally terrible person!”

“Why would Kavanagh bake you cookies?”

“I don’t know! If could have been part of some nefarious plan to clog my arteries and send me to an early grave via horrendous heart blockage!”

John just stares at him. “Seriously?”

“Hey, it could happen.”

“Rodney, shut up,” John says and then he’s suddenly there, his lips pressed to Rodney’s.

It’s wonderful and terrifying and so right.

Rodney makes a little noise of surprise against John before he relaxes into his the kiss, reaching up tentatively to card his fingers through his silly hair.

When they break apart, they’re both panting.

“Was that… was that okay?”

“I don’t know,” Rodney says. “I think… purely for research purposes, you understand, I’m going to need you to kiss me again.”

“No problem,” John says and he leans in to kiss Rodney again.

——

By the time they’ve finished kissing, they’re both shivering in the chilly night air. John’s hair is messier than usual and Rodney’s lips are red and swollen.

“Seriously though,” Rodney says, burrowing closer to John’s side as John drops an arm around his shoulders. “Cookies? Really?”

“I figured that at least when it came to you, the old saying was true. The way to your heart is definitely through your stomach.”

“So you thought you could woo me with cookies?”

“It worked though,” John says triumphantly.

Rodney grins. It worked.

“Hey, next time, you think you could do peanut butter?”

“Shut up, Rodney,” John says fondly

“Why don’t you make me?”

“My pleasure.”

Prompt

:One day you come into work and find a cookie mysteriously placed on your desk. Grateful to whoever left this anonymous cookie, you eat it. The next morning you come in and find another cookie. This continues for months until one day a different object is left--and this time there's a note.

#mcshep #john sheppard #rodney mckay #sga #fandom: sga #stargate atlantis #ficlet #prompt fic #reposted from my old LJ as this is the only fic I've written in the past that didn't give me major second hand embarrassment.

[purebarnes]

courage to change— (fem!avenger x bucky!)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ➢ finally developing feeling for each other, bucky and y/n each spend the night with each other hoping to resolve their feelings

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ➢ 2k

ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀꜱ ➢ honestly nothing

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋꜱ ! ➢ it’s been like a week but hope you liked this—pretty bad for not being here.

it was pretty awkward for everyone as no one spoke and they didn’t care or dare to open their mouths, it obviously felt weird for everyone to be together again. driving off to sharon safe house, was a pretty nice place to live—she wasn’t going to lie that the woman had some style. sharon and her used to be close but that all changed when they decided to help steve. she never wanted sharon to get in trouble but she couldn’t persuade her father to let go of the charges between all of them.

sharon blamed y/n and was upset at her because she got away with breaking the law. she made it seem more of a higher stake then it was, she got off easily because she was a stark but she still faced the consequences. despite everything bucky did to tony’s parents, he was upset and hurt and he let it all out on bucky. the man had every right to be hurt but nothing could make up for it.

when the news that y/n’s mother had been murdered, she was devastated because she lost the one woman that was still there for her. steve and tony had argued about what they were going to do to bucky but steve kept telling tony that it wasn’t him and it was the winter soldier. at that moment in time, all y/n wanted was vengeance against bucky but he didn’t want to hurt or fight her. she didn’t care.

bucky noticed y/n staring ahead and looking at the rear-view mirror and looking at herself until he snapped out of her deep trance. he asked her if she was okay and she lied once again. they pulled in to sharon house and once they got out, they went inside. the inside was much nicer then she thought it would be, she looked amazed at the furniture of everything in her place.

y/n trailed along to see all the paintings sharon had placed in her house, “huh, looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well—some point, i thought if i had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. you know how much i can get for a real monet?” sharon asked sam walking towards, “easy. deactivate your hustle mode, you sell fake monets.”

y/n could hear the distant conversation between sam and sharon talking about how much they could get for the paintings. zemo spoke up about how they were real, “it’s true. you know, half the artwork in museums like the louvre is fake. real stuff sits in places like this.” bucky said making y/n look up to see sam pulling up his phone to search something up. she couldn’t understand what was happening in the current situation, “okay, guys, i see what your doing. you’re more worldly than good old sam.”

the girl went to see what he typing, “yeah. what’s google say?” bucky asked as y/n went to gently pat sam on the shoulder trailing behind bucky when sharon told them that they needed to change into something else. while sam was changing his shirt, sharon brought some outfit to y/n so that she could wear it. “here you go.” sharon spoke handing her the clothes. y/n grabbed the clothes, “what’s this?”

sharon rolled her eyes gently, “you looked uncomfortable. maybe these would work—we are the same size anyway. give or take.” she mumbled a thank you to the other woman and went to go change. y/n reached towards a bathroom and she bag an taking off the tight shirt and examined the scar on her shoulder.

it was the little scars that made her happy to see where she came from, if it was a battle against bucky with natasha and tony or if it was thanos fighting against the avengers. she hoped it would stay there forever. putting on the clothes, she made it out to where everyone was talking. she could hear some faint things between sharon and sam—nothing she could make out though.

y/n walked to sit across of bucky while he glanced at her but none of them said anything, sharon noticed the tension between bucky and y/n and wanted to see what was up. “what’s this?” sharon pointing to both of them and sam chuckled telling her that everything was becoming awkward for them. “they aren’t really talking.” sam pointed out whispering but y/n could hear him because he wasn’t whispering to quietly.

she furrowed her eyebrows and turned to look at sam, “you’re not the best whisperer.” she said rolling her eyes at him while he kept having the conversation with sharon before she came in, “by the way how is the new cap?” sharon asked while bucky was already getting aggravated by the mention of john. “don’t get me started—please. you buy unit all that stars and stripes bullshit.” sharon scoffed.

she moved towards bucky and y/n, “before you were his pet psychopath, you were mr. america! cap’s best friend.” sharon replied taking a seat and grinning at her comment. “wow. she’s kind of awful now.” y/n chuckled at him before sam went to go around all of them to keep the conversation of the soldier serum. “karli morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum.” sharon looked unsurely about the whole situation that they were doing. “you should really steer clear of all of this for your own safety.

y/n looked up from the floor that she was looking as she went to speak up, “it might be a risk but we need to figure who did it—we got a name. wilfred nagel.” sharon had a anticipated glance before she got up from the seat, “nagel works for the power broker.” getting up to get another drink—“we need your help, sharon. i can get your name cleared.” sam still tried to persuade her into helping them but she kept refusing each time. “you haggling with my life?”

“not like that—i don’t buy that. you pretending like you can clear my name.” she said while sitting down staring at sam and only him at the moment. “okay, maybe it is hypocrisy. maybe your right. what happened to you. but i’m willing to try if you are.” y/n stopped listening to sam’s conversation and finally looked up at bucky when he mentioned him. “they cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he’s met.”

as said before, sam wasn’t a quiet whisperer because both bucky and y/n heard what he had said about him. “i heard that—i don’t trust charity.” y/n chuckled light but not enough for anyone to hear or see her. she thought it was funny to her even though she knew what sharon did—so many times y/n did anything to help sharon and sam. “how about her? you help us out, she will get your name cleared.”

this time y/n looked up wondering how she got dragged into the conversation but sharon still was sure, “she probably wouldn’t do it—she will.” bucky spoke making y/n widen her eyes as she never agreed to do anything and quite frankly it was just she didn’t know if she could do it. “ok, deal.”

she inhaled before nodding and agreeing to do it even though she want sure if it was something that she could surely do. sharon let telling them to enjoy the party and y/n didn’t do the quite thing she told her to do. she saw a lot of people and she decided to have a few drinks and she layer her eyes on a pair of blue eyes. she put her drink down as he came over, “you’re drinking—i mean, is that a crime?” y/n joked to bucky as he shook his head.

“you don’t drink though, it just seemed different for you to drink. go ahead.” he said pushing the drink back towards her but she pushed it away, “you don’t need to take care of me—who says that what my intentions are.” bucky breathed out rubbing his temples. “look, i can drink and do whatever. it isn’t hurting anyone.” she scoffed to him.

bucky couldn’t understand how the conversation turned into her her upset with him, he just wanted to talk to her simply without having any problems. “why do we have to argue on the littlest things y/n.” bucky said shaking his head, sighing at the girl. y/n turned to bucky and looke straight into his eyes, she mumbled a sorry while feeling the alcohol starting to do its worst in her body. “i’m just gonna head out.” she went to walk out the bar and went to go and see the stairs.

she felt dizzy at the lights and couldn’t stand up straight and fell against the wall as bucky went to run up to her and catch her before she fell. “let me help you, please doll.” he pleaded to y/n as she gave up and nodded while bucky pulled his hand out to help her up. they made it towards a a room that y/n was going to sleep at but once bucky brought her in the bed—she laid down drifting away.

bucky smiled lightly seeing her at that state, so sleepy and beautiful at the same time. he admired her for awhile before going to tuck her into the blankets to keep her warm as it was a bit chilling in the room. he placed his phone on the side of her bed and reaching to grab it but she turned to the side hovering over the phone. he sighed, leaving the phone and closing the door gently.

awhile later, bucky knocked on the door but with no response, bucky tried to see if she was awake or just ignoring him. she was actually doing both but not on purpose, the man with metal arm peeped his head open to see her staring at the window. “you awake y/n?” she turned around and nodded and saw him on the edge of the door. “what’s up?—i just left my phone.” bucky walked over to her bed and reach down to grab it but stopped when they looked at each other and we’re meeting each other’s eyes.

it took him a second to see what he was doing, he leaned forward so close to her lips and she just didn’t move to see why they were doing. the amount of space that was left wasn’t that much when bucky paused and asked, “if i do this, i won’t be able to stop.” he warned her and she nodded understanding what he would do. “i know.” she whispered grabbing his cheek and bring down his face to give him a soft kiss and most needed one.

y/n grabbed his shirt pulling him into a deep and more meaning full kiss, she couldn’t stop feeling a sort of way towards him. she needed him and he needed her more then they thought. bucky pulled his jacket off and tossing it towards the floor and started to take off her shirt and stated placing his mouth on her neck started kissing it when she moaned at his mouth on her neck. she heard a knock and cursed. y/n rolled her eyes, “sam?—yeah, uh you alright?”

“yeah. sam, just hit myself. do you need anything?” she yelled but he replied no before leaving and into the room he was staying at—y/n looked back up at bucky and shook her head while pushing him off of her, “wait? what’s wrong?”he frowned at her when she reached the bathroom. “nothing buck. it’s just a lot for me, i don’t want to stop you—what are you talking about?” he asked entering the bathroom.

“you are meant to be happy buck, I just don’t think... i can be that person for you.” as she said that, bucky grew aggravated at her, she couldn’t understand what had happened. “maybe you aren’t the one.” she looked appalled at him before stepping back trying to hear what he said to her. “but i want you. i just want to feel you.” she chuckled at him, patting his cheek. “me too. let’s go finish then.” she said pulling him into the bed and finishing what they had started.

on the other side of the door was sharon and sam listening to them, “i knew it!” sam yelled out making bucky groan at him and yelling him to leave before he would make him leave.

#bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #fatws bucky #bucky barnes x female reader #marvel #fatws series #sam wilson #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fanfic

[annab-nana]

Stay With Me - Colby Brock

When tagging along with the boys on a trip to London, you experience some crazy things when you’re alone in your room at the Langham Hotel.

@traphousedaily’s favorite snc series project with: @lonely-xplr, @sarcasmhadachild, @taradummy @reddesertcolbs, @reinad-snc, @cartiercolby, @colbylover99, @sunflowerwhoever, @xplrtrash, @goddess-of-time-and-magic, @xolbyz

A/N: This is my longest fic I have ever written, so if you like the longer fics, let me know! Also, this probably isn’t the best edited because I tried to get it out in a hurry so sorry about that haha

Warnings: some curse words; mentions of suicide, murder, and suffocation

Word Count: 4.6k+

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

“We’re going to England, brothas!” Sam shouted which was followed by excited squeals and scream from you, Jake, and Corey as Colby clapped beside you all. When you went to the party at Kian and Jc’s, you were not expecting your best friends to come up and surprise with such news. You giggled as you watched Corey prance around, saying “Oh my God” repeatedly, and Jake spew absolute nonsense of connecting Queen Elizabeth to Bloody Mary.

“Pack ya bags. We’re going to London, baby!” Sam spoke enthusiastically before covering the camera lens that Colby was holding with his hand. And from there, your crazy adventure with the boys began and you hand no idea what you were in for or how badly it would end.

...

After your suitcase was packed and you had your backpack on, you were ready to go to London. You were so excited to see a new place and considering you have never left the country, this was a whole new experience for you. After a ride in an uber and a plane, the five of you arrived in the capital of the United Kingdom.

“Are you guys gonna be safe driving on the opposite side of the road?” Jake questioned as we walked through the parking lot of cars.

“Oh,” Sam and Colby say together, though Colby’s ended with a ‘my God’.

“I didn’t even think about that,” Colby added as he walked backwards, facing the camera towards us.

“Look at the steering wheel, brotha!” Jake pointed to the steering wheel of a black car in front of you all and the wheel was in fact on the opposite side.

“Oh no! How are we gonna do this?” Colby questioned as we all looked at the car, thinking the same thing as the boy with reddened locks.

“I don’t know my right from my left,” Sam spoke in a horrid British accent that you could not help but laugh at.

“Alright, you’re gonna drive,” Colby told his counterpart as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“Okay,” the blond sighed in defeat.

“This isn’t looking good,” you spoke to the camera that Colby held as you two watched Sam try to pull out of the parking spot. He already nudged Jake with the car and then tried to turn right when you can only go left. After a bunch more tomfoolery from the group, you all finally moved your stuff into the car and got in as well.

“Alright boys so-” Colby started to explain what we were doing but was cut off by Corey clearing his throat.

“And girl,” he scolded as he nodded his head in the direction of you.

“No, Corey. Y/n is one of the boys,” Jake butted in.

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult,” you chuckled before turning your attention back to Colby so he could continue his explanation.

“Anyway, this is what we’re doing. We’re going to the Langham Hotel which is known as the most haunted hotel in the UK.”

“And also top ten in the whole world,” Sam added.

“Wait, are we going there or staying there?” Jake asked beside you. Your eyes followed from his to Colby’s to see his answer.

“Staying there.” Your eyes widened slightly as you looked at the two boys beside you. Corey giggled nervously and made jokes to hide his fear and you and Jake just laugh in disbelief.

“In our last series, The Origin, we talked to those guys like a demonologist and he says we’re a lot better at paranormal investigations than normal and he thinks we have a gift. So, this whole trip is trying to prove that our group is the best ghost hunters on YouTube and because of that, we are meeting with two paranormal experts who’ve been studying the paranormal and demonology for years and we’re doing an interview here in an hour,” Sam explained.

Jake appeared to be really excited to the right of you and on your left, Corey stayed quiet, which led you to believe he was kind of scared and trying to hide it. You felt a mix of both the emotions of the boys next to you. You were excited for the adventure like Jake was, but also a little scared like Corey since y’all were going to one of the most haunted hotels in the world.

...

“Hey, there it is,” Colby announced to you three in the back and the camera that he had pointed at the building before you guys.

“The Langham!” Sam shouted as he kept his eyes locked on the road, still trying to get used to driving on the other side of it. You all pulled up the hotel, got your bags, and headed inside in no time.

“So, we have a reservation under Golbach,” Colby started as he spoke to the man at the front desk.

“We put in a request. We don’t know if it was able to be fulfilled, but we’re trying to do room 333,” Sam asked the man in the grey suit, a maroon tie and handkerchief to compliment it. You and Corey shared a look after Sam mentioned the number 333, both knowing it did not sound good.

“Absolutely. You have been allocated in that room,” the front man told y’all and Colby turned to you three with an excited grin which you returned. The man at the front desk noticed your group’s excitement and smiled along with you.

“We heard online that room 333 was like haunted or something like that?” Sam mentioned, hoping to get some information from the clerk.

“Is this why you have the camera?” He grinned as he processed the transaction.

“A little bit, yeah,” Sam chuckled.

“There is the legend, yes,” he told you all as he focused on his work.

“Have you heard anything about that?” the blond pressed again.

“We can’t tell guests,” the clerk starts with a smile, but the grin soon drops as he nods his head. Something about the way he did that made you feel a bit uneasy.

“Do you believe in it personally?” Sam questioned as you all listened intently to what the man had to say.

“No. In one year that I’ve been here, I didn’t have any complaints and so on, but you can tell me. Just stay there with the camera, yeah?” he laughed as you all joined in, trying to relieve the awkward and weird tension.

...

“My name’s Sam. This is Colby, Y/n, Jake, and Corey. We’re filming for our channel, but these guys are always into it and woah.” Sam turned the camera to the large creak you all just heard coming from above him and Rosie, the lady you had just met who is a member of the ghost club. John, a guy from the council for the Society for Psychical Research, sat next to her. You sat on the couch nearest to him between Colby and Jake and Corey sat on the chair next to Sam across for you.

“We just rented out room 333. We haven’t even told them why that’s a significant number, but do you guys know much about room 333 here in the Langham Hotel?” Sam asked, filming the response from Rosie.

“Well, the story goes that a Victorian doctor spent the night in room 333 with his bride. It was his wedding night. Who knows the circumstances, but the story goes, he actually murdered his bride in room 333.” She pauses as y’all take in the information she had just given before she continues.

“So, fast forward now to 1973 and the journalist James Alexander Gordon was staying room 333 where he’s waking in the middle of the night and he said he saw a fluorescent ball of lights that slowly formed into the figure of a man, but there was something strange about this man. He was dressed in a full evening suit, very smart, but the bottom half, his legs, were actually missing. Now the journalist actually tried to speak with the figure, but the figure didn’t speak to him. He just walked towards with his arms open wide.”

“A famous cricketer, he was staying at the room and in the middle of the night, he was woken by the sound of taps turning on. He went into the bathroom. Water was gushing out through the tap.”

“Woah,” all of you say collectively as you think back on what happened to the boys previously. You didn’t go with them on that trip, but you heard the story several times and watched the video too. Sam fills in the woman in on the experience briefly before she can continue with her story.

“Anyway, he turned off the taps, went back to the bed, what he could hear was still the sound of running water, gushing out even though the taps were turned off.”

John nods along before speaking about a theory that ghosts are like a tape recording of traumatic experiences that just play over and over again. He explains that you can’t really interact with it because it’s always going on a loop. The theory piques the interest of the group to say the least.

...

After finishing the interview and exploring a bit of the beautiful town you were in, you all gathered around the camera as Sam gave some background on the hotel. He tells you all about a German prince who jumped from the building out the window and how the doctor from earlier killed his wife and himself afterwards, both stories happening in room 333.

Soon the camera is turned off and you all pile in the elevator to head to the third floor. The whole hotel has an unsettling vibe, especially with some weird and creepy paintings that are hung all around. There is a big one of a boy with creepy eyes right when y’all get off the elevator.

“Which way is room 333?” Corey asks a worker when y’all get to a hallway and do not know which way to turn.

“Oh… uh… room 333… it’s that way,” he speaks, dragging out each word and shuffling away in a weird fashion. You and Corey share a wide-eyed look before going to catch up with the rest of the group.

“This is the most haunted room in the most haunted hotel,” Colby tells the camera as he films Sam who is about to unlock the dreaded door. The key does not work on the first try or the second which scares you all, but thankfully, the third time’s a charm.

Sam pushes the door open to reveal the supposed haunted room. A bed sat in the center of it, a closet to the left and a desk to the right. Huge grey curtains covered the window and another door was next to it, which you assumed to be the bathroom.

“It smells like old people,” Jake mentioned. “You know what that means? That means its haunted, bitch.” You and Colby giggled at the beanie boy as Sam and Corey were off in the other corner of the room. Colby mentions how tiny the room is as Corey says how that one of us could be standing where someone got murdered.

“Oh, we got three rooms. There is no way we can all share this bed,” Colby mentioned.

“Where are the other rooms at?” Corey asked as he stuffed his hands into his new hoodie that he got earlier when we were going around the city.

“Just down the hall,” Colby told him.

“Oh, so still on the most haunted floor,” Corey rolls his eyes and nods, accepting the fact that something bad might happen tonight.

...

You all left room 333 and headed to 324 where Corey and Jake would be staying to check the room out. Your room was next door, 323, and looked remarkably similar to 324. After exploring the rooms, y’all take on the hotel in its entirety, passing more creepy paintings and experiencing a door closing behind you without anyone around it, several vortexes, handprints on mirrors, immediate temperature changes, strange noises, and so on. The thing that freaked you out the most was Sam getting random headaches as you explored.

Back in room 333, you guys sat on the bed and Sam explained all the new ghost hunting gadgets they got, from the EMF reader to the dowsing rods. Sam says that with the dowsing rods, you can find basically anything you want.

“Anything?” Colby questions as he picks up the rods.

“Alright, where’s my girlfriend?” he asks and both rods point to you almost immediately. A blush scatters on your cheeks as you laugh it off.

“See guys, even the rods think you two should get together,” Jake tells the camera. Colby ignores the awkwardness between you two as he asks Corey how to effectively use the rods.

Y’all decide to begin the investigation, starting with the EMF reader. Corey brings it close to the hangers that made a noise and it moves up one green light. It lights up to orange in a few places on the right side of the bathroom which freaks you all out and y’all decide to set the EMF reader up in the bathroom since it got the most activity. You all put together that the bathroom is the only spot in the room that has a vortex and that it is exponentially hotter than the bedroom.

While Sam and Colby messed around in the bathroom, you, Corey, and Jake stayed in the bedroom to see if anything would happen in there while the cameras weren’t running in there at the moment.

“If there’s anything in here, can you please make the bed shake?” Jake asked into the air above him, trying to get whatever was out there to make the bed shake like they did earlier. At the moment, he was laying on the left side and you were on the right. Corey was next to you in the desk chair. You guys waited a moment for any responses and then you got one.

“We’re here,” you heard the raspy low whisper come from the closet.

“Please tell you heard that too,” you begged as you sat up, pulling your knees to your chest to comfort yourself. Corey nodded profusely in the dim lighting as Jake audibly answered ‘yes’. Corey dashed to the bathroom door to tell the other two.

“Hey, you good?” Colby asked you quietly as the other boys discussed what happened. Your eyes left the trio before meeting the blue ones that gave you such peace. He had placed a comforting hand on your back, his thumb rubbing it to soothe your nerves.

“Yeah, just freaked out. This place has been giving me an uneasy feeling all day, but I’m good.” You smiled up at him and he gave you a grin right back, one big enough for those adorable little dimples to pop out.

“Bro, if you guys lay on the bed, you will feel something with you,” Jake told Sam and Colby. You stood off the bed, allowing Colby access to lay on it. He handed you the camera, which you handed to Corey because you were not the best them and your hands were slightly shaky.

“When I was laying with him, we could feel it shaking,” you told the duo as they sprawled out on the mattress.

“You should turn off the light,” Jake told Corey and he did. It was just you five in the room alone with the darkness and all who inhabit it.

“Do you guys feel the bed shaking at all?” Corey asked, his voice right next to you.

“Maybe, barely,” Colby’s voice sounded in front of you.

“If the German prince or the doctor that killed his wife is in here, please shake the bed,” Sam asked nicely of the spirits that are presumed to be in the room with you guys. After a moment of silence, a stunned ‘woah’ fell from Sam’s lips.

“What?” Corey questioned as you heard him fiddling with the camera. “What? Bro, I can’t find the light.” Sam grabbed the green light grid thing and turned it on to provide you all with some sort of light.

“I felt it go back and forth,” Sam told us all as he kept his eyes on Colby to see if he felt anything too.

“You felt it? I don’t know if I’m feeling anything,” Colby sounded a little disappointed like he wanted to feel what you, Jake, and Sam had felt.

“It literally rocked bro,” Jake told the camera and you nodded your head in agreement. You all hung out in the bedroom, trying to figure out the green light grid and how else you all wanted to go about the investigation when Corey got a text from his little brother, Cambrey.

“Are you okay?” you asked Corey as he stared wide-eyed at his phone screen. The other boys turned to look at Corey to see why you asked him such a question when y’all were just chilling at the moment.

“Uhh yeah, Cam just texted me this: Hey so I just saw your new video and at the end of it when you were talking about in the part where y’all kept saying save me and you were wondering like what you should do, I just wanted to let you know I went to a psychic lady and she told me that I have powers to send ghosts to the other side lol. All I have to say is you are free to go to the other side and it helps them go through. I know this sounds really stupid but ever since I talked to her, I’ve been seeing giant black figures in my room every night and when I sleep, it feels like someone’s watching me.”

“What the fuck?” Sam comments as you all share looks between you guys.

“Wanna know what’s even freakier? Cam is fourteen right now and I was fourteen when I first saw the shadowman.” ‘Woah’s fall from the group around him as we take in the information and process what we’ve been told because it seems so surreal. You all talk about how to deal with this. Corey feels guilty and responsible for Cambrey possibly seeing the shadowman. You try to comfort him, but the heavy feeling that he is dealing with is something that you can’t help that much.

“Maybe it might be good if we call it a night,” Sam suggests to the group as you nod your head. Things are a bit tense right now and maybe just getting settled into our own rooms and stopping the investigation for now could ease it some.

“Let’s set our alarms for three or something like that, but I think it’s good to take a break for a minute and like relax and we’ll come back to this in a minute.” And that is exactly what you guys did.

“Are you gonna be good by yourself, y/n?” Colby asked before you left their room with Jake and Corey.

“Yeah, I should be but I might call you so that if I hear something, you might hear it too and so I don’t go crazy,” you chuckled as he smiled at you, the grin making butterflies flutter around in your belly. He nodded before you turned around and went to your room.

A sense of relief flooded your body when you walked into the room. You were still very creeped out by the hotel and the fact that you were on the most haunted floor of the most haunted hotel in the most haunted country in the world. You were happy you were no longer in the most haunted room, but the things that were happening in there freaked you out.

You went to your suitcase and flipped through your clothes until you found something to sleep in. You had packed mainly warmer clothes for sleepwear, but since room 333 was so hot and you were still burning up from it, you grabbed the one pair of shorts you brought and a tank top. You grabbed a hair tie from your backpack and went to the mirror, throwing your hair into a ponytail. After you brushed your teeth and got your charger out, you settled into bed and shot Colby a text.

Y/n: can I call you?

Colby: of course

“Hello?” you asked as soon as you hear the ringing stop.

“Hey, are you okay?” His voice sounds so concerned and it makes you smile.

“Yes, Colby. I’m fine. Can you stay on the phone with me until I get tired?”

“Yeah, sure.”

It didn’t last long until you were about to conk out, so the two of you said your goodbyes and you placed your phone down on the bedside table. Just as you were about to fall asleep, you swore you felt the bed shake. You do not know why you said what you were about to, but you did.

“If there is anything there, can you make the bed shake again please?” A moment or two of silence passes before it does it again. The bed wobbles lightly beneath you.

“Okay so there’s something here,” you whisper to yourself. You try your best to shrug it off and go to sleep. You almost slip into a blissful sleep before you hear a whisper similar to the one from before.

“You’re not alone, y/n.” You immediately grabbed your phone to text Colby. You knew he would probably be in a deep sleep by now, but it was worth a shot.

Y/n: the bed shook in here

Y/n: and I asked it to do it again and it did

Y/n: then it whispered youre not alone y/n

After not seeing the bubble with three dots pop up, you decide to let your phone record audio while you sleep just to catch anything that might happen and set an alarm from three in the morning. Finally, you get to sleep.

You woke up with a jolt, a sweat on your forehead and the bed moving slightly beneath you.

“You’re not alone”

“We’re here”

“Come with us”

The whispers filled your head as you watched an outline of a guy appears in the hallway near your door.

“Colby,” you call out as you sit up and rub your eyes.

“Sam? Jake? Corey?” you continue but not a peep comes from the man as he inches towards your bed.

“Seriously guys. Cut it out,” you chuckle, but he keeps coming closer and closer until he is right beside you. You reach a hand out to try to touch him, but your hand falls through his misty form.

“Whoever you are, please leave. You aren’t welcome here,” you demand, but your voice falters at the end. You hear a loud maniacal laugh vibrate throughout your small room as the figure crawls on top of you.

His presence is suffocating enough, but when a hand comes up to your throat and clamps down, it becomes difficult to breath. You fear for your life as you try to pry the hands from your neck, but just like his body, you can’t grab onto them. Your fingers slip through his and there is nothing you can do about it. Tears seep out your eyes and black spots cloud your vision before all you can see is black.

“Y/n! Open the door! Y/n!” you hear the worried shouts of your friends. You look around and reach for the lamp to turn it on. Looking around, you see that you are safe. It was nothing but a bad dream. You hand flies to your throat and when you feel that there isn’t a misty hand closing in on it, a sigh of relief leaves your lips.

You sling the covers off your body and run to the door. When you open it, you are met with the concerned expressions and worried eyes of the four boys you loved most. Your tear-filled eyes meet the specific blues ones before you step forward and wrap your arms around his waist, hiding your face in his chest.

“Are you okay, y/n?” Sam asks as he places a hand on your shoulder. You flinch at his touch unintentionally before muttering a ‘sorry’.

“You were screaming,” Jake added as he met your eyes.

“Really?” you asked, but based on how scratchy your voice sounded, you could tell it was true. “What happened?”

“Sam and I went to Corey and Jake’s room because Corey called us, but we heard you screaming and rushed over here. What happened to you?” Colby asked calmly above your head.

“Did you get my texts from earlier?” Colby nodded at your question. “I had a nightmare and the same whispers I heard earlier, I heard in my dream. And then this figure came up to me and try to choke me to death. I saw black and then woke up to you guys banging on my door,” you finished as the tears came back and you went back to hiding in Colby’s chest. His hand rubbed up and down your back comfortingly as he looked around at the other guys, unsure of what to do.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” you muttered into his chest.

“You can come stay in our room,” you heard Corey offer.

“Or ours,” Sam suggested.

“Can you stay with me?” you asked the blue-eyed boy as you looked up at him.

“Yes. Sam, can I have the camera? I’ll start looking through the footage and you can go to sleep since you couldn’t earlier.” Sam handed him the camera that he had hanging by him side before the other three left to go back to their rooms.

“Was I really screaming?” You asked Colby as soon as you sat on the bed.

“Like you were being killed,” he told you. You grabbed your phone and began to listen to audio recording you started earlier. It is mainly quiet for the most part, just your soft breaths and sounds of you moving in your sleep. Then, you hear the whispers again.

“Listen to this!” you shout as you hand the phone to Colby. His eyes widen at the sound.

“That’s what I’ve been hearing.”

“That’s insane,” He told you as he handed the phone back to you. You get all the way to the end and do not hear any screams.

“There’s no screaming on this.”

“When did it end?” You check and the time that stares back at you freaks you out even more.

“3:33 a.m.”

“Here. Let’s put this away because you have been through a lot tonight and just chill out,” Colby suggested as he placed your phone down and pulled you closer to him. You settled yourself into his side and placed your head on his chest. He had one arm around you while the other laid on his stomach.

“I’m sorry we put you through this,” he muttered as he fiddled with the bottom of his shirt.

“No, it’s okay. I have had a lot of fun this trip and I don’t want it to end early because I had a bad dream. That’s all it was,” you tried to see the bright side of it all.

“That makes me feel better because I really do love you, y/n, and I’d hate to see you not come on another trip with us or stop hanging out with us because of this.”

“I love you too, Colby, and it’s gonna take a whole lot more than a bad dream to get rid of me,” you both chuckled as a comfortable silence fell over the both of you. You fell asleep in the safety of his arms and right there, you did not have another bad dream that night.

#colby #colby brock #cole robert brock #Sam and Colby #colby imagine #colby x reader #colby fanfic #colby fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #y/n #xplr #traphouse #jake #jake webber #corey #corey scherer #sam #sam golbach #traphousedaily

[tsarinatorment]

Tsari’s Military Bros Masterpost

As @gumnut-logic has declared today Military Bros day (to my absolute delight!), and I’m a major creator for Military Bros stuff, I figured I might as well make a nice masterpost of all my Scott&Gordon content.  There’s a lot, and maybe someone might find something new in here that they haven’t seen before?

Alphabetical order is normally my go-to, but as I’m just running through my blog and picking things out, this time they’re in chronological order, starting with the oldest!

Wax and Feathers - Sometimes limits need to be broken. But a limit is there for a reason, and breaking them has consequences.

I Just Can’t Wait To Be Free - When Scott gets stuck, Gordon’s the only one around - too bad he can’t stop laughing.

Toffee - Gordon is a lover of many things.  Toffee is not one of them. (note: still ongoing, starts Gordon&John)

Give Up The Fight - Just a short angsty dead-end piece.  Warning for implied MCD

SensorySunday - all my SensorySunday fics have some Scott&Gordon in, although some more than others. I’m not listing them individually because all the bros get their time with Scott in these.

Human -  Scott needs to stop taking his helmet off first chance he gets - one day, his luck will run out.  Warning for PTSD

Long Way From Home -  His brothers are missing.  In their place is a family of strangers, the only explanation that makes any sense is beyond comprehension, and the only solution is impossible.  Scott Tracy’s never been so far from home. (note: still ongoing, has several family interactions but Scott&TOS!Gordon is the most extensive so far)

WIP #47 - Unfinished fic with lots of Gordon, and Scott!whump

WIP #59/Sticks and Stones - Unfinished fic with Scott whump and angst, and Gordon decided to get involved.

Words Not Said (But Still Heard) -  Gordon didn’t remember much about his time in the hospital, but he remembered the song.

Snap -  There was a whole mountain of paperwork, but a certain annoying younger brother refused to leave him in peace long enough for him to get it done.

Night Out / Morning After -  Gordon learnt two things that night: Scott was an affectionate drunk, and sometimes people throw bar stools for no good reason.

Night Out [Art]

Is-Is That My Blood? - From a prompt of the same name. (note: Gordon doesn’t appear in person in this section, but he will in future)

In Your Shadow - “Tomorrow, they’re not gonna say ‘that’s Gordon Tracy, the Olympic Champion!’  Tomorrow, they’re gonna say ‘that’s Scott Tracy’s little brother!’, and I’m gonna say ‘damn straight I am.’” (Tippy did a podfic!)

Are You Going To Let Go? [ART&FIC] - Gordon’s found a de-aged Scott and he’s not letting go.

To Protect - “Get out of the way,” before I murder you.

Teen Tracys - Scott’s teenage brothers are a nightmare (note: not just Scott&Gordon)

Refrigerator - "You've gone to the bathroom fifty times today" and "Is it just me or is it cold as hell in here?".

End of Blue - Thunderbird One’s dead in the water.  Scott Tracy isn’t responding.  Rescues never feel the same when it’s one of their own they have to save. (note: not finished yet)

Some Things Never Change - de-aged!Scott “Goddamn it, kid, don’t you ever listen? Stay still, let me stop the bleeding, okay?”

Sleep - Some sleepy!Scott Military Bros fluff

Small Things - When an injury leaves Scott unable to do even the most simple things for himself and accordingly frustrated, it takes a brother who understands what it’s like to halt the slippery slope.

Exposed to the Elements - “Fever and Abandoned Building"

A Step Too Far - “Unconscious and Stairs”

Last Straw - “You were almost dead from pushing it too far!”

Bloodbath - Everything was red. (note: ventfic, heed the tags.  Nutty wrote a part 2)

Help Me (Keep My Head Above Water) - The water is no place for a man who thrives in the skies.  Luckily, he has a  brother who’s the opposite. Marks&Wings AU

Too Many Feathers [ART] - Accompanies Help Me.  Gordon is an orca (and Virgil’s there, too)

Escape - An island vacation turns into a nightmare, and it’s going to take Gordon everything he’s got, and then some, to get himself and his injured brother to safety. (note: still unfinished)

Sword and Shield - The relationship between his brothers was complex.

Stitches and Movies - “Bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go”

Human Shield - “Shielding the other with their body”

Crafty Little Brothers - “Giving them a piggy-back ride” (note: also contains a lot of Alan)

Water Rescue - “Can we stop for a moment?  I think I need a break”

Bad Days - “Seventy two times in a minute” and “Xanax and tears”.  Warning for PTSD

[Unnamed] - Pen&Ink drama involving Scott (note: very incomplete wip)

Master of Strategy - “You deserve everything you got”

Thank You - “Things you said under the stars and in the grass/that made me feel like shit/I wish you hadn’t”

Childish Mannerisms - “Ow...ow...ow... NO I’M NOT BEING A BABY. I’ve been impaled!”

Dawn Fever - Normally, two brothers are up at dawn.  Today, there’s only one.

Homework Mishap - "Don't worry, I'm just checking your pulse." and “That’s not how you use a stethoscope (note: contains a lot of John)

Restless - “Can I sleep with you in here tonight?”

(It’s the) Middle of the Night -  When he woke, it was dark.  But he wasn’t alone.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #military bros #scott tracy #gordon tracy #i love these two so much

[the-fiction-witch]

NSFW 100 Paul

1. What's the dirtiest thought you've ever had about a total stranger? About a stranger? Ohh I don't know? Maybe that time I thought about having sex with that girl with the huge boobs in the bus but that was years ago.

2. Do you prefer sex at night, in the morning, mid-afternoon, or NOW? I like morning sex, theses something sweet and cuddly about it

3. What's your favourite way to be seduced? It's gonna sound weird but like pet me, like run your hands down my arm, or my neck, or stoke my chest or my hips or something just literally touch me and I uhhh I am good.

4. What's the dirtiest fantasy you've had at work? At work? What are we counting as work? Because I don't really think about much other then music.

5. How would you dominate your boss sexually if given the chance? Who are we classing as my boss? Our manager? Ooohh noo no no thank you.

6. What do you do when you get horny in public? Just kinda... Untuck my shirt and use it to cover my pants. And usually notify my girlfriend to uhh help with that.

7. Have you ever masturbated in a public bathroom? No! Have you been in a men's public bathroom. I don't even wanna go in there unless I absolutely have to and even then if I can't just piss in a bush, there usually three blow jobs, a murder, a drug deal and someone with horrific diahrea... I don't wanna step food in there.

8. What's the weirdest thing you've thought about while touching yourself? I don't know I don't really think all that much, I thought about a cup of tea once but to be fair I did just want one when I was finished so...

9. What's the strangest prop you've used to get yourself off? ...... A shower head. Look we have an old rickety shower okay! And when the water comes out the whole head like moves and stuff we had to put an elastic band around it so it actually stayed on the wall it moved around so much and, one night after me and y/n has been, kissing a little in the early dating stages I kinda just held it to my shaft and ... You can imagine what happened

10. Do you remember the first time you felt aroused? Yes! The first time y/n came over in this little blue dress she had always worn fairly high neck dresses and such but uhh this was a uhh well low cut and I saw cleavage and boobs and I uhh yeah I got very very hard.

11. Who gave you your first orgasm? I did! We technically my pillow did, same night after y/n had gone home I uhh yeah kinda just wrapped my legs around the pillow thinking about her and next thing I knew I was cumming. That was an eventful day.

12. Do you remember what that first orgasm felt like? Not at all. All I remember was that it hit like a tone if bricks and I had to bite the pillow so I didn't scream

13. Have you ever had sex with someone whose name you never knew? Not sex. I've got a blow job from someone I didn't know the name off but that was before me and y/n where dating.

14. What's your favourite thing about a quickie?

Hearing her trying to be quiet it's so adorable and cute.

15. What the most sexually daring thing you've ever done?

Sex onna bus! Yeah we where heading home to my flat one night after a gig and we where sat at the back of the bus all alone and I pulled her on my lap and we uhh yeah we had sex.

16. Have you ever fantasized about fucking one of your teachers? No I have not. That's a weird thing to do.

17. Do you ever mentally strip strangers just for kicks? Nope. I do not have the time or the thought capacity

18. And then imagine, in dirty detail, what it would be like to fuck them? Nope. You know who I imagine does thought. John.

19. Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex?

Yes.... George. John dared us! I got him back I made him show is cock at a gig.

20. What inspires you to make the first move? Ummm Im not sure, usual just the thought comes into my head we have been sitting her a while or kissing a while or whatever so my hands just kinda take that as there sign to uhh do something already.

21. In your opinion, what does it mean to be good in bed? To pleasure your lover.

22. Have you ever cheated on a boyfriend or girlfriend because you just couldn't help yourself? No! I saw the other boys do it and saw how it ruined everything, I love y/n far to much to ever hurt her like that.

23. Have you ever pushed the boundaries of fidelity to the brink and then retreated just for the rush? No!

24. Do you have a go-to masturbation fantasy? Y/n climbing out my shower wrapped up in her little towel, dripping wet, coming into my bedroom putting my shirt on and nothing else and getting all cosy in my bed and maybe playing with herself a little... But I'm usually done by then

25. What kind of porn turns you on? I don't mind some of the magazines, not the ones where there like fully naked I like the little linguee and long shirts kinda magazines

26. Have you ever had sex with your eyes closed? Many times, not on purpose I just get overexcited and shut my eyes

27. Have you ever blindfolded or handcuffed your partner? No, but... If y/n would like to I have no issue with that.

28. Does naughty talk get you aroused?

Yes... 29. Are you sure about that, my dirty little forest nymph of a sex god?

Never sure my sexy babydoll

30. What's the dirtiest thing someone's ever said to you during sex?

I don't know honestly she doesn't talk all that much

31. Have you ever watched another couple get it on without them knowing?

No!

32. Have you ever watched another couple have sex with their permission?

No! What is with the pervy questions!

33. How would you respond if a couple approached you to be their "third"?

No thank you I have a beautiful girlfriend and I am very content with her

34. What's the most flattering thing someone's said about your naked body?

So beautiful, so sexy, I want you inside me now!

Yeah we both went a little nuts that day

35. When's the last time you had a vivid sex dream?

Like three weeks ago, I don't sex dream all that much maybe were having to much sex to make me horny in my dreams?

36. What do you think an orgy would be like?

Hot, sweaty and gross, no thank you

37. Have you ever propositioned a total stranger?

A couple of times usually egged on by john, but the most that ever came out of it was a blow job

38. What does your ideal one-night stand look like?

A nice sexy time, maybe a spoony cuddle, a cup of tea and then off home

39. How long does it take you to get yourself off, on average?

Myself about twenty minutes but I don't usually count when I'm with y/n

40. What's the weirdest thing that turns you on?

Seeing her in my clothes... That does things to me that I can't explain but it's so hot! My shirts, my boxers, ummm she looks so good!

41. Have you ever had a naughty dream about a close friend or family member?

I guess y/n counts before we where together as she was one of my best friends

42. Have you ever woken up humping your pillow?

Yes. Many times.

43. When's the last time you orgasmed in your sleep?

Years ago. I don't do that anymore now I just wait till I see y/n luckily she usually right in bed with me

44. What's the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you while hooking up?

John walked in on us during a uhh delicate time, as I was literally about to fucking cum! And now he knows to fucking knock!

45. Do you like touching yourself in front of the people you sleep with?

Many times y/n likes to watch me sometimes, and she likes to call me up and listen to me while I listen to her

46. What's the dirtiest text you've ever sent or received?

Well she once handed me a note that said "My house tonight parents are out x p.s being by favorite toy please xxx" ummm just thinking about it makes me hard.

47. Do you prefer professional or amateur porn?

Amateur!

48. What's your favourite blowjob technique?

Uhhhh suck I guess I don't know if you have it in your mouth I'm happy

49. If you had to pick, would you be a dominatrix or a submissive?

I think I am... Submissive. Just a little bit, maybe a lot

50. Is there anything you won't do in bed?

Anything with anal can fuck off on me or her

51. What's your dirtiest sexual fantasy?

Y/n coming in the room in my shirt pulling me around by my tie, tieing me to the bed and ummmm letting her do whatever she wants to me and I'd be bad just so she'd spank me.

52. How many people have you slept with?

Uhhh I think two. Maybe three? But I think two.

53. Where's the weirdest place you've had sex?

On john's apartments kitchen counter, he and the other guys went out to get take out for dinner and uhh we may have had sex on his counter top... Sorry John.

54. What's your favourite part of Y/n's body?

Her boobs. Or her hips I like both

55. Have you ever had anal sex?

Yes and it can fuck the hell off! I do not get what guys love about it so much it was had for me bad for her, the only time it was tolerable was when it was me! Ohh... I don't think I should have said that.

56. If you could choose what Y/n was wearing right now, what would you choose?

My blue boxer shorts and my red button down... Ummm with half the buttons undone

57. Where on your body is your favourite place to be touched?

My chest, I like when she pets me there.

58. If you could have sex anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Our bed of course?

59. When did you first had sex?

Ohh it was a terrible night, bent her over a bench in the park, the boys could hear us it was a weird time and I didn't enjoy much of it at all as I really liked y/n and this was just some pub girl named alice then but after it I got some courage and asked y/n out and we've been happy ever since

60. What's the best sex you've ever had?

The first time we did it in my apartment, we could be loud, we could take as long as we wanted, we could be kinky, we didn't have any worries and it was amazing!!

61. What's your favourite position?

I like to be ridden. But what boy doesn't?

62. Have you ever been caught having sex?

Yes, many times, john, my dad, her mum, all of my band, we get caught alot

63. Do you watch porn? I look at magazines

64. What kind of porn do you watch?

Magazines

65. How often do you masturbate?

Before y/n and I where dating actually even we where dating, before we became sexual in our relationship, twice a day at least now... I don't I literally haven't for over a month y/n takes care of me now

66. Name a sex position you'd like to try?

I wanna try reverse cowgirl so badly!!

67. Do you prefer to give or receive?

Give! I like hearing her gasp and moan for me

68. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

Yes! It was fun I wanna go again but it's really really cold.

69. What's the most sex you've had in a day?

Ten I believe is the record.

70. Are you loud or quiet during sex?

Loud, we are not a quiet couple

71. Have you ever tried using food during foreplay?

Yes! We used honey my god it was so sticky never again!

72. What's the first thing that sexually attracts you to someone?

Personality, the boobs.

73. Would you say you have any fetishes?

I like to be spanked. And tied up.

74. When it comes to BDSM, how far have you gone/would go?

She has tied me up, and she spanked me sometimes, and... We may have done anal on me but that's it

75. What's your favourite toy?

Either the shower head or... Y/ns little spanking paddle she keeps at mine

76. Do you ever read erotic fiction?

No, but that sounds fun

77. Have you joined the mile high club?

No but I shall one day I vow to do so!

78. Do you think you could take off Y/n underwear with no hands?

I know I can I have done it many times I use my teeth and my tongue

79. Would you say you're kinky?

I don't think I am that kinky but y/n is and I just allow her to do whatever she wants to me

80. Do you enjoy shower sex?

Yes!! It's so good, so warm, and wet and the shower is good too, plus we get to use the shower head on each other fucking hell she sqeauls!

81. Where's the weirdest place you've ever masturbated?

Under the table at the school library, I couldn't stop thinking about y/n and yeah I uhh did that

82. Do you like to be spanked?

Yes... but only when I've been a bad boy

83. Have you ever fantasised about someone else during sex?

Once, the first time, I imagined she was y/n

84. If y/n caught you masturbating, would you stop or would you finish?

I would do whatever she asked me too but I know she'd likely wanna watch me finish for her

85. Have you ever had an inappropriate crush?

Not really, y/n was pretty normal a crush so no.

86. Have you ever cried or fallen asleep during sex?

I have cried many times,

87. Do you prefer eye contact or not during sex?

I like it but it tends to make me louder and more needy

88. Do you like to kiss during sex?

Very much, the more kisses the better

89. Do you get tired after sex?

I do, usually I cuddle up to y/n and give her a kiss and we fall asleep in each other's arms

90. How many positions do you think you've tried?

Uhh not all that many four I would say as a guess

91. What's the longest you've ever gone without sex

I guess about a week, if we are not counting before time

92. How high is your sex drive?

Medium, y/n has a higher drive then I do

93. What's a surefire way to turn you on?

Rub your hand across my neck as we kiss and all the way down till your rubbing my cock, fuck it makes me hard!

94. Sex with lights on or lights off?

On! I wanna see what's going on

95. Do you like dirty talk?

I like when she calls me a bad boy, especially if she is also rubbing on my cock or spanking me at the same time the dirty talk adds to it

96. Do you prefer one night stands or longer-term sexual partners?

Long term

97. Do you prefer to be on top or bottom?

Bottom!

98.Rough or romantic?

Romantic

99. Quickie or marathon session?

Marathon! I wanna go for hours and hours!

100. What's the best thing about our sex life?

Awww, that we have complete faith in one another I don't worry about you while I'm gone and you know you don't have to worry about me, so when we get together again I get to have my perfectly smutty girly that I love ever so much, that and it's fun when the boys ask where I get my brusies from and I get to say there hikis from my sexy girlfriend, even if they are in usually places.

#paul mccharmly #paul mccartney #nowhereboy #nowhere boy #tbs au #tbs #tbs fanfiction #tbs smut #tbs sex #tbs smutty #tbs fanfic #thomas #TBS Imagine #tbs imagines #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #thomassangster #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster i #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas brodie sangster s #thomas sangster smut #thomas sangster x reader #thomas smut #thomas sangser imagine

[e350tb]

The Owl House: A Blight on Gravesfield (Chapter Five)

Five

The sun rises over Gravesfield.

...so the first essay topic will be up online this afternoon. Now back to weird local myths!

In 1660, King Charles II was restored to the English throne, and the whole Civil War period came to a close. Sort of. There was still a lot of political and religious controversy in both the British Isles and in the colonies; but that’s mostly a topic for another course. We are going to be following the continuing adventures of the Wittebanes.

John died in 1672 of pneumonia, but before he did, he had a family house constructed on his estate; that house, the Historic Wittebane Home, is still, and access is free to all Gravesfield residents, so if you have some time it’s well worth a visit. Although it looks small and uncomfortable now, in the 1660s it was the height of colonial luxury.

John left his estate to his son, the confusingly named John Philip Wittebane. We’ll call him John Philip to avoid too much confusion. Before John Philip took over the estate, he had sailed both as a merchant and as a buccaneer in the Caribbean; we believe he sailed with Henry Morgan in the raid on Maracaibo in 1668-69. While there, he purchased investments in a number of industries, and while he divested from them when he returned to Connecticut to collect his inheritance, they had made him a very wealthy man.

He immediately put his wealth to use by buying up most of the small farmers around Gravesfield, and by 1690, it was reckoned that most people in Gravesfield were employed by him. It became effectively a Wittebane company town, with John Philip even serving as the city’s mayor several times.

This is where our next myth comes to play; that in 1687, John Philip Wittebane had a woman put to death for witchcraft, and that consequently, her ghost haunts the Historic Wittebane Home.

Now, I’m a historian, I can’t tell you ghosts are real. That’s a job for ghostbusters. But was a woman really hanged in Gravesfield for witchcraft, nearly twenty years after the end of the Connecticut Witch Trials?

The local newspaper tell us that on June 13th, 1687 - a Friday - a ‘vagrant, suspected by some of heresy and witchraft, was duly hanged by the magistrate on account of the cruel and vicious murder of Henry Finch, who had been struck down while attending the ‘pigges’ on the Wittebane estate.’ So we have a clear cause for the hanging, and a ‘suspicion of witchcraft,’ but we don’t have a connection.

Frustratingly, this newspaper doesn’t tell us how poor Henry Finch died. Was he cruelly hexed? Well, if we go digging about in the archives, we might find a different story…

----

A brisk and foggy dawn was breaking over Gravesfield.

Ben Frakes was not a man of means by any stretch of the imagination, and as he stepped out into the cold air, he wished he could afford a car. (Well, he could, but it was hard to justify the expense.) It had been an uncomfortable night. Life in his one-room apartment had its charms - chief among them proximity to the college - but on cold nights it could be miserable, especially when his radiator was still broken.

Still, he was in fairly good spirits. His course on Gravesfield’s myths, and the truths behind them, was going very well, and the students seemed engaged. And it was a very good time of year to be in the history business; the annual Gravesfield History Fair was coming up, something he always looked forward to. It was always a riot; apart from a small county fair, there would be historical talks and tours of the old battlefield and the Historical Wittebane Home, and even the yearly battle reenactment; one which Ben had taken part in every year for his whole time in Gravesfield.

He was always on the Redcoat side and therefore always lost, but having fun was the main thing. Even if it was a bit of historical revisionism on the part of the townsfolk.

He was just starting off down the sidewalk to the college grounds when he spied a rustling in the nearby bushes. For a moment, he was prepared to dismiss it as a rabbit or a bird, but then, to his astonishment, a little white head poked out.

“Is that a cat?” he asked himself.

Slowly and gently, he crept forward, leaning down behind the bush. The cat emerged, gently headbutting his outstretched hand.

“Hmm… too much grooming to be a feral,” mused Ben. “Have you gotten out of someone’s yard?”

Carefully, he picked up the cat.

“Am I gonna have to print out a wanted poster for you?” he asked, chuckling. “I’ve got some milk in my fridge, maybe… what the?”

His gaze turned to the cat’s paws. Just under one of the back paws, he could see a peculiar mark, almost like a lock. He frowned.

“That doesn’t look healthy,” he mused. “Okay, pre-class prep can wait, I think you need a vet.”

He started off in the direction of the vet. He wasn’t concerned about making it to his class; that was still hours away, and he’d been planning on spending the morning doing some marking. But that mark… cats did not have marks like that.

At least, not in his world.

----

Camila was not an oblivious woman, especially when it came to her daughter.

She had had some suspicions the night before; most people wouldn’t jump through a portal into the unknown to get their friend to help, after all. But things were messy and upsetting, and people did irrational things under stress, so she’d shelved that thought.

When she walked into her living room the next morning and found them sound asleep in each other’s arms - well, suffice it to say, her suspicions grew a bit.

When Luz eventually blinked open her eyes, she found her mother sitting on the couch with a cup of tea in her hand, smiling wryly down at her.

“Good friends, are you?” she asked.

Luz blinked, and then glanced over to Amity.

She yelped and pulled herself out of her friend’s arms, which in turn woke her up with a start. Both sat up, Luz turning bright red.

“What’s going on?” demanded Amity. “Are we being attacked?”

Camila took a sip of her tea.

“Don’t worry,” she replied. “If we are, I’m sure Luz is very well protected.”

“Mooo-oooom,” groaned Luz, burying her head in her hands as Amity turned red too.

“Uh, Ms. Noceda, it’s… I’m…” Amity scratched the back of her head. “Please don’t get mad, Luz…”

“Mad?” Camila tilted her head. “Why would I be mad?”

“I… um… I…” Amity stammered.

“I need to take a shower!” exclaimed Luz. “Far away from here! Goodbye!”

She darted off the inflatable mattress and out the door.

Amity buried her head in the blanket, moaning softly. Camila frowned, moving a little closer to her.

“Amity,” she asked. “Is everything alright?”

“Sure,” sighed Amity. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Camila reached down and put a hand on her shoulder. She was surprised to see Amity jolt away from her; her frown deepened.

“If you ever need to talk,” she said. “Just remember that I’m here.”

“Thanks,” replied Amity, looking away, “But I don’t think I will.”

She got up and walked away.

----

Luz spat her toothpaste out into the sink (she was surprised at how much better-tasting human toothpaste was than the stuff they used on the Isles, although it probably didn’t provide the same magical plaque protection) and washed her hands, whistling to herself. She didn’t know why - it wasn’t as though she was calm or cheerful - but perhaps music calmed the soul.

“Okay,” she said to herself. “Gotta go back to the historical society. Maybe there’s a lead to getting Amity home on that creepy curator guy’s conspiracy board… also wanna see if the bookstore’s still there. I think Amity would like it.”

She turned to the door and immediately froze.

Camila was leaning against the closed door, arms crossed.

“I think it’s time we talked, mija.”

Luz pursed her lips.

“...do we have to do it in the bathroom?”

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #camila noceda #vee #lumity #a blight on gravesfield #writing

[wheresmybuckyhoes]

Watch Me

Summary: You try to make your boyfriend Roger jealous because he tried to tell you what to wear but it goes slightly wrong

Pairing: Roger Taylor + female reader

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, drinking, angst, mentions of oral

Note from me: This is part one hence the warnings. The realllly smutty stuff will be in part 2, so please like and reblog to give me the boost I need to write part 2 xx

Your boyfriend, Roger, was being a pain in the arse as usual. Later this evening you were planning on attending one of Freddie’s grand after - show parties, so you had gone shopping with your bestie Christine (who happened to be dating Brian) for a dress to fit the occasion. You had settled on a beautiful black dress which barley reached below your bum and showed more than enough cleavage. You looked hot as fuck in it and coudn’t wait to make all the ladies jealous.

However, an hour or two before the party you ran into an obstacle or rather... into Roger. You had just put on the dress and fixed your hair and makeup when you heard the door to your hotel room open. ‘y/n I’m back!’ you heard Roger’s voice echo through the room as you put on your mascara, leaning in close to the bathroom mirror. ‘John told me to wear a suit but obviously I’m never gonna do that cause s’not my style and...’ his sentence came to a sudden hault as reached the doorway of the bathroom.

You saw his eyes narrow slightly as they looked you up and down, the gears in his brain clearly working very hard. ‘Y/n. What the fuck are you wearing?’ he asked while his icy blue eyes pinned you down. ‘I got the dress with Chrissy for the party. Do you like it?’ you said, giving him a spin so he could see the full veiw. You were very proud of yourself as you looked better than you ever had, and you’ve been waiting all week to show Roger. So when he said what came out of his mouth next, you were shocked.

‘You are not wearing that. Every man will have his hands all over you if they have half an eye. I won’t allow it’ announced Roger. You blinked a few times, speechless. ‘Are you fucking kidding me Taylor. I will wear whatever the fuck I want. No man will have his hands anywhere near me if they know I’m with you. But apparently you don’t fucking trust me enough, so you? So Taylor, guess I’m going to the party for someone else’s enjoyment.’ and with that you grabbed your purse and made your way to the door in a huff. ‘DONT YOU DARE Y/N’ Roger warned after you. ‘IM TAKING MY OWN TAXI SEE YOU THERE BITCH’ you screamed, flipping your beloved boyfriend off and slamming the door.

You arrived as the party was in full swing, knowing Roger would arrive soon after you. You decided to make the most of being alone for a bit. After greeting and congratulating Freddie, you made a swift exit towards the bar. It was only after 4 shots of vodka and strong buzz that you saw Roger walk in with his god awful sunglasses, looking around to find you. You hopped off the bar stool only to stumble. You felt a pair of strong mascular hands catch you by the waist and looked up to see a handsome stranger smirk at you, checking you out very obviosuly.

Meanwhile, Roger had given up trying to find you. He made his way to the sofa where his band mates always sat and pulled out his flask filled with whiskey. He sat down between John and Brian, draining the whole thing in a few minutes.

‘What’s the matter darling?’ Freddie asked as he swooped in, sitting opposite Roger on a vacant couch, nursing a glass of wine. ‘Yeah Rog you kinda look like you got kicked in the nuts’ Brian agreed, receiving a friendly nudge from John as he tried to hold in giggles and look serious. ‘Y/n wanted to wear this dress that basically left nothing to the imagination and obviosuly since she’s the sexiest girl to live I didn’t want men to be trying to hit on my girlfriend so I said she can’t wear it’ Roger sighed. Brian winced. ‘WHAT MAY. WHAT’ Roger raised his voice impatiently. ‘Well Rog you never tell your girl what she can and can’t wear. It sets them off. I bet she’s gonna make you go without sex now for a week. Or even a month.’ Brian went on to do a fake gasp. You could see the look on Roger’s face go from worried to pissed as he seemed to suddenly notice something. John saw his fists ball up and he raised an eyebrow as he followed his eyes to where Roger was looking. John’s jaw dropped when he saw what Roger was looking at. You were dancing with the man who had caught you early, grinding against him and letting him touch you anywhere he wanted. You secretly hoped Roger would see you, teaching him not to boss you around.

Brian turned his head as his eyes widened. ‘Oh fuck Rog’ Brian spluttered out, half laughing half feeling bad. ‘I swear to god I’m going to murder that man’ Roger said, removing his sunglasses, and balling up his fists so hard his knuckles had turned white. And then, the finale. The man kissed you. That was it for Roger. ‘Rog she’s probably just teasing don’t do something you’ll regre... ROGER’ Freddie called after him as he stood up and made his way to you.

You felt a tall presence behind you, but were too drunk to realize that amazing, woody smell was Roger as you kept kissing the stranger. Suddenly, you felt 2 hands pull you if the man and next moment the man was on the floor, clutching his bleeding nose and moaning from pain. Before you could turn around, you were lifting over someone’s shoulder and quickly taken upstairs as you giggled, head spinning.

It wasn’t until Roger threw you on a bed in the first bedroom he had found and locked the door that you realised it was him. ‘you kissed another man?!’ Roger said, weirdly quiet. ‘Maybeee’ you slurred, slowly dragging your hand up your thigh, lifting up the dress. ‘Jealous?’

Roger bit his lip and crawled on top of you, pinning your arms either side of you so you coudn’t move. ‘Now princess, you don’t do that. You can’t go around kissing whoever you like. So I’m going to have to punish you now so you will never do that again’ he whispered into your ear. ‘But I thought this dress was asking for it’ you whispered looking at his hair. He took hold of your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. ‘We will see you is asking for it when I’m done with you’ he said before his lips crashed into yours.

He began to undress you and kiss you everywhere except where you needed it the most. You whined as his legs skimmed your pussy, but he continued to kiss wherever he felt like it, placing your hand on his hard cock and groaning as you stoked him up and down. ‘Please Roger. Make me feel good’ you mumbled, biting down on his shoulder as he kissed your neck, but just below your sweet spot. ‘Oh, so now you want me to make you feel good?’ he asked biting your thighs aggressively, leaving marks. ‘Just like you were making that man feel good?’ He questioned. ‘Well baby, that’s not how it works. You want to make me jealous? Fine. But now you won’t get to cum until I let you, and that may be after I edge you until you are a whining little mess. So shut that pretty mouth on my cock so you can actually do something useful with it’. Your eyes widened in suprise, not expecting him to be this harsh. You were only trying to make him feel bad for trying to tell you what to wear. Well shit...

*If you guys want a part 2 please think about liking and reblogging ❤️*

#fanfic #queen #queen smut #roger taylor #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x reader #smut

[sophialikesthings]

Death Of Me Chapter 2.1

17 years of wondering why...

Song: Nothing But The Love - Wrabel

A couple days later.

"I am so sorry for not being able to come, I feel awful. I just can't miss this." I was talking to JJ on the phone. "Where is my earring!" I groaned.

"No clue princess."

"Oh great, a new nickname!" I laughed.

"I'll meet up with you tomorrow morning, I promise." I smiled ending the call.

"Ready?" My mom asked putting her wool shawl over her shoulders.

===

"Hey, You took my advice." I noticed Rafes hair.

He just hugged me as tight as he could, as if he was given a choice, he would choose to not let go.

"I know today is hard for you." I could feel him cry.

Seeing Rafe so vulnerable made me melt, even though I hated the reason we were here my mind only worried about one thing right now, Him. I loved him so much it physically hurt. As if It hurt because I loved him.

"Can you stand by me? During the service?" He asked.

"Of course." I held his face in my hands, looking into his gentle eyes.

During the whole time we were at the cemetery, Rafe had his arms around me, as if I was the only thing that could take away the pain.

===

We headed back to the house to unwind.

"Rafe?" I came out of his bathroom after taking off my jewelry, except my ring that he gave me.

I found him on the balcony looking at the sunset. Suddenly Pope and Kiara pop up.

"MURDERS!" Kiara yelled.

"Hey, Lets go inside." I got his attention.

I looked behind me to see pope carrying Kiara away.

Rafe sat on his bed just staring at his floor.

"Hey, You were protecting the ones you love." I hugged him sitting down on his lap.

"I love you." He fell backwards, taking me with him.

"Say we got married? What would our life be like?" I looked at him, a smile appeared on his face.

"I dunno? You tell me?" We turned to face each other.

"We would inherit my grandfather's house, the one on the hill, we would have a dog, a yellow lab." I smiled

"Of course!"

"Three kids, twin boys, RJ and Reed. And a little girl, Remi." I was feeling butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it.

"Why those names?"

"Well, Reed is my grandma's maiden name, RJ is for Rafe junior, and Remi is our names combined." I smiled at him

"You still wanna marry me?" He asked

I got up and grabbed two of his rings off of his dresser

"For better or for worse." I slipped one on his ring finger

"For better or for worse." He slipped his pinky ring on my finger.

"I now pronounce by the state of North Carolina, unofficially, Mr and Mrs Cameron." He chuckled.

We just fell asleep, all the problems in the world melted away.

===

"Morning!" I moved my hair to behind my ear while I sat down next to Topper, who was at a table with Kelce and Taylor.

"At least John B got what was coming to him, and it saved him the expense of the trial." Taylor continued her conversation.

"Taylor!" I yelled.

"I'm just saying John B's going to hell for what he did to Sheriff Peterkin." She defended herself, while JJ poured me water.

"They are still investigating." Topper chimed in.

"What is it with you two? Defending a murder?" Kelce was on Taylor's side.

I could see JJ become angry. but before I could stop him, he snapped.

"Shut up!"

"J-"

"Shut Up, Demi!"

I Don't think we were talking to you, Pogue." Kelce only added fuel to the fire.

"Can I have everybody's attention, Please? I have a little announcement to make!" JJ tapped a knife to a plastic cup.

"My best friend, John B, did not kill Sheriff Peterkin! Rafe Cameron killed and shot the sheriff in cold blood!"

"Demi, are you really gonna let him insult Rafe like that?" Taylor asked.

"Is that so hard for you to believe?

"It is actually hard for me to believe because it's always the... the kook's fault, It's never the pogues fault." Kelce stood up.

JJ dumped water on kelce and they started fighting.

"Stop!" I yelled as Topper held JJ back.

"Yeah, I know Raz. I know." JJ sighed taking off his aperon.

"My God Taylor! What has gotten into you?" I ran off.

===

"Hey!" I ran after him, managing to grab his shoulder.

"Go away Demi! Go back to your Kook Life with your kook money and all your kook friends." I kept walking to his bike.

"JJ MAYBANK LOOK AT ME! DAMN IT!" I ran in front of his bike before he could go anywhere.

"I don't want this life! I want You!" I was barely able to let out the last word before he rode away

"I love you." I said to myself as I watched him leave

===

How School works in the outer banks is funny, You have the elementary building, Junior High Building, Then your Highschool building, once a unified school where status didn't matter. up until 1978. In 1979 instead of building another school, the city decided to split the school into two wings, The East wing has all the Pogues in their free time , West wing has all the Kooks 'AKA Kook Academy' where we hang out, We all have our spaces. for instance, Courtyard is where the Pogues eat, cafeteria is for the Kooks. Except The library, That has to be shared. As well as most of the core four classes (Math, History, Science, English.) but electives the kooks have their classes separately from the pogues.

===

"Does any one know what the immigration act of 1924 most directly reflect? Mr.Maybank?" The teacher asked.

"It means...immigrants were welcome but not all of them?" JJ questioned.

"I think what he means is The Immigration Act of 1924 produced highly discriminatory results because it set a max on how many immigrants could come to the US depending on what country they came from. " I helped JJ.

Suddenly all four of our phones went off at the same time, causing us to look at each other confused.

Incoming Text Unknown Number

"You get this" I showed my phone to JJ who was behind me.

We all exchanged glances while we opened out phones.

"Fuck off."I looked at the photo forgetting where I was.

"Ms. Thornton!"

"Sorry! I know my bad! on that thought, I have to go teach my fish how to... skateboard!"I ran out of class.

"I have to help her." I heard Kiara got up.

"Me too." JJ followed.

"I as well." Pope shut the door.

We all ran out to the courtyard and stared at our phones in disbelief

Kie:WTF is this you???

Unknown: Is JJ there?

JJ: I'm here Bree

Unknown: Did you pimp my short board?

"It's him." I laughed jumping up

JJ picked me up and spun me around squeezing me.

"Sorry." He got himself together.

"I'll text you later, I have a plan but I need to go talk to Rafe." I sighed.

"Yeah, I noticed your ring yesterday." JJ pointed to his ring which was still on my finger.

"Oh, That. It was an emotional mistake, I-"

"It's fine, I know you can't just automatically stop loving someone." JJ held my hand before running back to class.

===

I feel like I have two sides

Demetria Jane- The Kook Queen everybody praises for being so 'perfect' The one who pleases everyone, and trashes the pogues so she doesn't look suspicious.

Demi- The real me, the one who loves surfing and getting high while you walk through the forest, the one who enjoys hanging out with the pogues and fell for one.

"While they get to run around, say any goddamn thing they want about me, about my family." Ward was angry at my dad.

"Hi Dad." I walked past him.

"Why aren't you in school?"

"Why aren't you arresting the people who did this to the Cameron's Estate?" Demetria came out.

"Well I'm not getting an answer from you, am I?" He sighed.

"No sir." I walked inside the gates.

I saw Rafe on their lawn and my heart skipped a beat

I dropped my bag on the lawn and jumped into his arms as he spun me around.

"I missed you." He let me down kissing me.

Ward came past us stomping into the house.

"Do you think he'll close the case?" Rafe asked.

"I don't know?"

"Well is he going to at least bag those pogues for vandalizing the house?"

"I don't know,Rafe! What do you want from me? I don't know!"

"You know what I think we should do?" Rafe sighed.

"No. What should we do? Tell me, please." Ward yelled.

"I-I think we should kill them all." Rafe said quietly.

"Oh, Uh- I don't know about that." I laughed nervously, trying to end the conversation.

"I'll talk to him Mr. Cameron, I promise my dad will come around." I picked up my backpack and led Rafe inside

===

"How are you feeling? About this whole situation?" I asked Rafe as I set down my backpack.

"Nervous, My dad gave the pilot the gun and told him to dump it, lets just hope he did." Rafe sighed, falling back on his bed.

"Really?" I looked at him, knowing I just caught useful information.

He continued to tell me all about the elaborate things his dad has done to keep their name clear.

"I'm just confused as to why your dad is still looking into us, because isn't the whole reason we are together to get him to back off." "That's my cue to leave." I got upset.

"Demi, no I- I didn't mean it like that." Rafe apologized.

"No, because that is exactly what you meant, I'm not a motive, I am a person who loves you despite all the stupid shit you've done." I grabbed my stuff, set his ring back on his dresser, and left.

===

"So we going to the Bahamas or what?" JJ asked as I sat down next to Kiara.

"There is no way we're going to the Bahamas." Pope brought JJ back into reality.

"John B will get nabbed sooner or later." I sighed looking at an ambitious JJ.

"Exactly, so if we're gonna clear his name, we need to have done it yesterday." Kiara agreed to what I was saying.

"I'll tell you how we do it." JJ straightened up, excited to share his 'Big Idea'

"Oh God."

"SO you have it all planned out?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. We kidnap Rafe."

"I'm sorry, What?" Pope questioned JJ.

"We kidnap Rafe, tie him up and stick a gun in his mouth, and just wait till he starts squawking." JJ repeated his plan in more detail. "Okay, I'm partially listening." I said.

"Really? Out of all of us, I'd think you would have objected the most." he was surprised.

"We are in a rough patch right now." I sighed. "Said our relationship was a motive."

"JJ, you know, tortures' a war crime." Kiara looked at him, as if there was nothing in his head.

"True, So how exactly do you plan on clearing John B's name from a prison cell? Because that's a felony " I asked.

"I thought you were with me!" JJ gasped at my 'betrayal'

"Yeah, but then I realized I had common sense."

"All right, well, what do you got, Demetria I was just trying to keep it simple. You know, one stop and we're done." He asked, sitting down next to me.

"Please don't call me that, It reminds me I'm a kook." I groaned.

"All we need is a material witness, we saw Ward's plane fly over our heads, with the gold inside of it. Somebody else was there." Pope said.

"The Pilot! Rafe said Ward handed the gun to the pilot to drop in the ocean. What if he still has the gun Rafe used to Shoot peterkin?" I blurted.

"This is why we need you on the team!" Kiara high fived me.

"We just have to find him,and get them to confess on record." I continued my thought.

"How do we do that?" Pope asked.

"A light espionage?"

"A little ghost recon." JJ put his cap back on.

"Woogity, woogity?" Pope asked. We all tapped each other's fingers together.

===

"If this guy flew planes for Ward, he's gotta be pretty tight-lipped." Kiara drove, Pope next to him, I was in the back with JJ.

"So the direct approach gets my vote." JJ cocked his gun. "What are you doing?" I took the gun from him, shoving it back down into his bag.

"JJ, No." Pope turned around.

"What if we tickle the wire?" Pope suggested a safer plan.

"What?"

"We tickle the wire. We plant my phone in his car, and then we listen in on Demi's Airpods."

"Uh, That's his house." I pointed to a one story house with teal shutters.

"Honk or, uh ... yell if you see anything suspicious." Pope got out of the car.

"Don't do anything dangerous." Kiara asked.

"Come on, I'm not JJ."

I bursted out laughing at the insult Pope threw.

"Funny Pope. I love third wheeling. It's my favorite thing."

"Now I'm Third wheeling." Kiara turned to us.

"What?" I acted confused.

"It's obvious you like each other."

"No, no, no. Don't turn this around on us." JJ avoided the topic."How's it been going, you know with pope and all?"

"In the bedroom, is he like, kinda freaky, 'cause it's Pope, you know?" JJ tried to stop the awkward tension even more.

"JJ!" I groaned. "Leave her alone."

"Why are you asking?" Kiara turned to us again.

"I don't know. Just kind of curious. I'm just spitballing here."

"You don't need to spitball, we could just sit in silence." "Ranking wise--"

"Oh, you're still asking."

"Is- is John B better?" JJ threw out, catching both of us off guard.

"WHAT!" Kiara looked disgusted.

Pope ran back to the car, saving Kiara from that awkward interrogation.

"Phase one complete." He buckled his seat belt.

===

"Why does Demi get to tickle?" JJ asked.

"She's the best tickler." Pope answered.

"Should I do an accent?" I stopped their bickering.

"Definitely disguise your voice." Pope advised.

"Like what? Batman?" I did my best impression.

"Batman." They all agreed.

We dialed the number and waited nervously for him to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hello." I said in my deepest voice. I shook my head and just talked normally.

"Hello?" "Is Gavin there?" I continued.

"This is Gavin. Who's this?"

"I know what happened on the tarmac." I cut to the point.

"Um...who's this?"

"It was Rafe Cameron." My breath became shaky, remembering everything that happened. "But you already knew that, and lied about it."

"Okay, who is this?"

"We're gonna prove it."

"Tell me who this is."

"You could have saved her, Gavin, but you didn't. You are not getting away with this." I hung up.

Soon he drove away and called Ward.

"He's calling Ward." I put an airpod in, while Pope had the other.

--

"Can you talk? We need to negotiate."

"What do you mean to renegotiate? Gavin."

"I need to be paid more!"

"You need to stop and think very carefully about what you are going to say here, okay, because I have treated you very well. I can't figure out why I should give you one more penny."

"Ive got something that could put you away for life!"

"What are you talking about? I have the Sheriff on my side because of my son and his daughter."

--

I started crying. I felt like everything was my fault.

--

" I got the gun your son used, I have it, I know you told me to toss it. I know how you work, I kept it."

--

"I can't listen anymore." I handed the airpod back to Pope.

"It's going to be ok, we will get you out of that family's web of lies." JJ took me into his arms.

"We gotta go." We all got out of the car. Running as fast as we can through yards, jumping fences, you name it, we needed to hear what was going on.

"Hey Sean, Hey Tay." I ran past Taylor and her brother in his pool.

"Sean, oh this is where you live you old kook." JJ ran behind me.

"Surf shop!" Pope ran.

"We don't have time to take kie's car." JJ yelled. "It's blocked in there's no way." Kiara agreed.

"My house is right there! We can take my G wagon." I ran unlocking my car, we all piled in and speeded to the place where they were meeting.

Little did we know this would set things into motion quickly

====

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[gwoongi]

wordless pt.1

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: hitman (john wick?) au, sugar daddy au, fluff, pining, angst rating: mature words: 4.1k warnings: mentions of blood and violence, unconventional relationship, angsty themes, smoking mention a/n: this is jeongguk as john wick because i’m trash and i cant finish one story at a time. these prompts r from here btw :) im gonna do all 50 but im too lazy rn so here’s the first 10 :D

Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears them again.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

Now, it definitely was not a stretch to assume that everything in Jeongguk’s life was indeed unconventional. People didn’t need to understand that what Jeongguk did for work was something that, by the law, was considered unprofessional and inhumane, and so when asked, Jeongguk sufficed for “boss of a company”, and questions weren’t asked. If they were, Jeongguk came up with a slightly more conventional lie, to make up for the reality that was Jeongguk working on the clock, killing nobodies for a bit of cash.

Taehyung, his right-hand man, had expressed how unconventional Jeongguk seemed to be over a dinner in Venice, a little restaurant tucked away unconventionally in a street that did not belong to America. Jeongguk spoke four languages comfortably, and had parents retiring in the Canary Islands. Jeongguk donated money to women’s charities and mental health services, and helped bribe his cousins into Ivy Leagues when racism prevented them from entry. Jeongguk was a Joe-Exotic in the making and owned a rescue black panther named Elio, and had houses across the globe for use when working. And, Jeongguk was dipping his toes into playing house with a sugar baby who was only five years younger than him, of whom he had met in a stakeout which involved the hit being on your brother’s head. Unconventionally, you led him to his target, and afterwards, dined with him in a Thai restaurant.

Things in Jeongguk’s life were far from ordinary, but perhaps it was the denial of mundane comforts that kept Jeongguk going. If he went back to normality, to working a shitty customer service job like when he was seventeen, dumping trash into overflowing piles behind the off-license he worked at, things wouldn’t be the same. Jeongguk would feel alien, like he didn’t belong. At least here, amongst the pain and the bullets and the years worth of trauma packed in his wrinkles (which, yes, if he looks hard enough, he can see some cursing his twenty five year old skin), Jeongguk felt like he sort of belonged. In an unconventional way.

Having met Jeongguk during his line of work, there were difficulties in being Jeongguk’s sugar baby. For one, he always felt guilty for having murdered your brother, even though you heavily supported the hit. Your brother was a jerk, a bully with money, someone who had wronged your entire family, turned off your younger sister’s life support when there was a chance of her survival. Asshole, he deserved it. Secondly, Jeongguk was impractical and irrational and often acted selfishly, meaning he was often out of the country on work, only available in whispers for a few hours and then he was gone, compensating with a few sums of cash.

He tried his best. Jeongguk, despite technicalities including his work and his past and his occasional mean streak, genuinely cared about other people. When he could, he made the effort, otherwise not attempting to make promises to you that he could not keep. Jeongguk knows that he got really lucky when he found you. You didn’t ask questions. Nobody was better for him.

However, Jeongguk was selfish, and broken, and in refusal of fixing what was wrong with him. When it was of convenience, Jeongguk drew comparisons to the last girlfriend he tried to entertain. One who wronged him, and died when he tried to repair everything she had destroyed. Jeongguk carries that with him like the tattoos on his skin, a permanent memory, and something that often disturbs what could be and should be between the both of you.

Jeongguk is worthy of love, and capable of loving. On days where Jeongguk is free to lounge without the guilt of not working, you find it is so easy to love him. But, it can’t be that way. You couldn’t just tell him that. Telling him that you loved him would be inappropriately unconventional. Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears it again.

(1) Holding their hands when they are shaking.

Jeongguk is in his living room, his right leg bouncing like a spring as he cradles an infant glass of whiskey. His eyes are glazed, yet wide, staring at the Seoul city draped in darkness and neon, and without even looking inside, you know that his brain is spinning, thoughts chaotic and loud.

“Hey,” you call out to him, and his eyes stutter to the left to catch you in the doorway, “I heard you get up. What’s wrong?”

Jeongguk shakes his head gently. “Nothing, baby, go back to bed. I’ll be up in a minute.”

Jeongguk often makes comments without expectancies. You stand in the doorway that connects the living room to the long hall that stems into bedrooms and bathrooms, and watch him for a moment. His whole body vibrates like a speaker, his hands trembling as the glass drains and he reaches for a second, or a third, or maybe a tenth. You want to sigh, without being patronising, but you know that any sign of sympathy is mistaken for that whenever Jeongguk is around to make the judgement.

He looks back to the skyline and frowns, his attention panning from the window to his phone that buzzes blue, but he ignores. Stepping across the cool wooden floorboards, you approach him sleepily and take a seat next to him on the sofa. Neither of you move, but he recognises you’ve moved. He bristles slightly, like it was unexpected.

“You can take your time,” you suggest to him, and his hands ache in his lap as he sets the glass down on the coffee table with a careless thud. He scoffs, devoid of emotion, and dips his head so his chin is near his collarbones. In his lap, those hands shake. “Maybe don’t drink so much tonight.”

“I’m clearing my head,” he insists weakly. Those hands still shake.

Brows creased with a pinch, you swallow the unease and reach for his hands. Jeongguk doesn’t say anything as you do so, enveloping his hands in yours, and so suddenly the shaking ceases. Like trying to block the shakes from reaching his wrists, your hands keep his safe.

“I know,” you understand honestly, because you do know what he’s going through. “How about tea, or something? To calm down, calm down the mess that’s up in there.”

Your chin is on his shoulder, and he smiles softly. “Are you calling me messy?”

“Nah, I’m calling your brain messy,” you reply. “It’s a cruel fucking brain.”

“Hate my brain.”

“Today, we hate it.”

Jeongguk’s head turns slightly so that he can see you, and in his lap, his thumbs brush across your skin.

“Thank you,” Jeongguk says quietly, attempting a smile that doesn’t quite convince. It doesn’t necessarily have to, not tonight anyway. His phone continues to flash like a light show, Taehyung’s name in bold. “Fuck. I’ll take the call, and then I’ll come back to bed, okay?”

You nod, “Mm, okay. Want me to make a drink?”

“I don’t need it,” Jeongguk concludes. “Not today.”

(2) Tucking the sheets around them when they stir during the night.

Sometimes Jeongguk wakes up in the night due to nightmares, but tonight, it’s different.

Beside him, you stir uncomfortably and kick his leg for the fourth time. He huffs and looks over, trying to figure out if you’re awake and indignant, or lost in the dream. He settles on the latter when you strain out the name of your brother and his heart swoops with a dull ache.

“You’re just dreaming, baby, come on,” Jeongguk mutters quietly into your ear, holding you in place to calm the thrashing. “He’s not here anymore, I’m here. Y/N.”

It subsides after a few minutes, making it the longest you’ve gone on record. He looks into your sleepy, upset eyes as you break awake and brushes the hair out of your face. He tries to smile for you, and maybe you can’t see in the dark.

“I’ll get you some water,” Jeongguk suggests gently. “Hm? Sweet thing. It’s just a dream.” He says this into your hair in a hug, leaving a kiss on your temple as he breaks. “You’re fine.”

“I’m fine,” you breathe uneasily, and he separates to get a glass of water and returns to find you sleeping again. What relief Jeongguk might have is exhaled as he sets the glass on the bedside table, stroking your hair until he moves away with the sudden realisation that this is not a normal exchange.

Before Jeongguk decides to leave again, he makes sure the bed is made and that you are safe; he tucks the duvet in tightly and presses a kiss to your forehead before grabbing his coat by the front door and leaving your apartment, one tucked in the city so far that Jeongguk finds it a hassle to visit.

(3) Travelling long distances just to see them.

For three days now, you have been in Colmar, and Jeongguk is beginning to feel lonely. It had been his idea to send you away, when the heat on his long, long fued with a rival colleague threatened your safety. In return, you got a new apartment that Taehyung had found closer to Jeongguk’s own when your address got leaked, and Colmar could be considered a vacation if you pretended for long enough.

With tensions cool and the coast somewhat clear, Jeongguk picks the skin around his fingernails as a distraction before deciding that enough was enough. He missed you, and missed how you were always around for him when he needed you most. This is what drives him to jumping on a plane in his company’s name, and flying to France.

A small boat passes underneath the bridge you are standing on, and your hands dig into the barrier as you arch to smile at the tourists beneath. One catches a glimpse of your denim skirt and cherry print blouse in the sunshine and extends his hat with a wave, and you wave back. France is nothing like Seoul, and is indeed warm and fruitful and unique. The sun is hot, the sky is clear, and the streets are filled with an atmospheric buzz of friendliness, the smell of coffee and some food you don’t know yet entrapping your senses.

“Madame, je peux vous prendre en photo?”

Hearing the voice, you turn your body left and prepare to face the tourist, but instead you are welcomed with the sight of Jeongguk dressed in black, sunglasses sliding down his nose with a smile. He does hold a camera in his hands, although teasingly.

“Oui,” you quip, posing cutely and Jeongguk takes a photograph anyway, to humour the moment, to print when he gets back to Seoul. You join his laughter as he peers at the photograph and he walks without looking up towards you.

“When did you get here?” you ask him, a round of laughter from the little boat making you turn to stare at them with a giggle.

“Bout an hour ago,” Jeongguk replies, and he shuts off the camera and puts it in his coat pocket. It’s only a small camera, probably cost him a crumb to buy from a vintage store. He meets your eyes with a comfortable smile and rounds in, pressing your lower back against the bridge barrier and circling your arms around you. Carefully, then, he kisses you, tasting the suncream on your skin as his lips wander from yours to the skin around your face.

“Miss me?”

“Terribly,” Jeongguk responds. “I am so bored when you’re not around. You always have something to do, always have something to say.”

You hum in response. “I’m glad I’m of some entertainment for you.”

“Oh, for sure,” agrees Jeongguk. “I don’t think I’ve used my brain so often when I’m away from work as much as I do when I’m with you. Did you know that you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met?”

“Wow,” you exclaim with a smile. “Hire me.”

“Ha!” he remarks, kissing you again and taking your hand in his. He moves, back in the way you came. “Over my dead body.”

(4) Making their favorite meal when they are having a hard day.

“You.”

“Not now, Y/N, I’m working,” Jeongguk replies non committedly. He fists his hair.

“Not up for discussion right now,” you huff, and he has the nerve to glare at you which only makes you uncomfortably angry. “You haven’t eaten in fourty eight hours, and I’m not about to be held responsible for your death when you die of hunger, so get your ass in the kitchen before I dump this food over your stupid head.”

He challenges you. “You’re brave talking to somebody who could destroy your life like that.”

“Do it, I literally have nothing to lose,” you answer. “Please eat something. I made it with love and care.”

Jeongguk relents, sighing at his paperwork but nonetheless moving away from his home office and following you like a child towards the direction of the kitchen. He feels bad, you know he feels bad, and he circles his arms around your body as you walk, stumbling into the space of the kitchen and smelling the familiar aroma of pork rice stew. Alas, he sees the bowl steaming in his spot at the table and his eyes follow you as you hum and set start to washing the dishes.

“Y/N-”

“No words, just eating,” you instruct. “Bone apple tit.”

He grins, then, and takes a seat. “You know that’s not the phrase, right?”

“Tell that to Twitter,” you sigh.

(5) Giving them a kiss before going to work and they are still in bed.

Jeongguk prefers to see you when he doesn’t have work the next day, because leaving when you’re asleep is an asshole move in any dictionary. So, when one of his men phones him at four in the morning and relays the horror that someone’s died on his property, Jeongguk has to fight the demons that almost convince him to hand the job over to somebody who gives a fuck about the intruder stuck on his barbed fence.

He gets up, anyway.

Next to him, in the bed that belongs to you because this is your new apartment, Jeongguk stares down at you and feels a tug in his stomach. Guilt, it follows him everywhere like a ghost.

Before he leaves, he likes to give you a little kiss for the morning, so the tingling sensation reminds you that despite being an asshole and leaving without properly saying goodbye, he still gives several shits about you, and will be back when he can be.

(6) Tucking your head into their neck during a hug.

Jeongguk wants to hang Taehyung for making him remember the reasons why you had to move across the city to a new apartment.

It had, of course, been Jeongguk’s fault, and when the notification came from an exhausted worker in his line of work that the alarm system in your apartment had been triggered for an intruder, Jeongguk remembers all he saw was red.

The front door was forced open, a body indent in the wood and the front porch ransacked and littered with shards of glass and bullets. Inside was no prettier, with mess scattered everywhere and photos smashed on the floors. The carpets were stained with red that Jeongguk prayed was just wine, the glass coffee table in two pieces and a knife covered in red on the floor. Jeongguk and his men, along with the few police officers Jeongguk could actually trust in this god-forsaken hellhole, noticed that the blood belonged to one of the intruders who lay dead on the stairs.

Nobody knows how Jeongguk got through the apartment so fast, and why, without any hesitation, he murdered the remaining intruders without suggesting questioning and torture. That was his go-to when it rarely concerned you. He wanted those stupid enough to even try and go after you to really fucking regret it as he picked off fingernails and made them suffer for hours or days. This time he just killed, and moved onwards, calling your name like a mantra.

Jeongguk could have cried when you emerged, petrified, from inside one of the closets. Upon seeing you, Jeongguk collapsed his gun on the floor and stepped towards you protectively, pulling you in tightly for a hug. Sobbing into his neck, you hugged him tighter, feeling finally safe when his hand held the back of your head, like you were a precious thing that was of value.

You were of the highest value to Jeongguk.

“Fuck you,” Jeongguk barks suddenly, and Taehyung shrugs and exits the office. All he had asked was if he loved you.

(7) Lightly kissing on top of a freshly formed bruise.

There might be the assumption that Jeongguk comes home with more bruises than you do. Which is true, technically, and there’s no hesitation from your end in nursing them to a comfortable recovery.

On rare occasion, Jeongguk comes home and finds you exhibiting a new purple blob on your skin. Like today. 

Jeongguk hasn’t seen you in two days, and when he lets himself into your apartment with the key he has glued to him at all times, he follows the silence and light to the bathroom. You sit on the edge of your bathtub, gently rubbing cream on your knee in little circles.

“What happened here?” he asks quickly, and you continue rubbing with your tongue poking out between your lips.

“You’ll laugh, don’t ask,” you mutter.

“Hey, I won’t laugh,” Jeongguk says. He rests his weight against the doorframe, “You open the front door the wrong way again?”

Ha! You laugh humourlessly. “Worse!” You look up at him sadly, “I tripped in the parking lot carrying my groceries. It’s on camera and everything, I want to die.”

Jeongguk pokes the inside of his mouth to resist laughing. “Well, fuck. That’s your leg ruined.”

“I know,” you pout. “Good thing you’re my sugar daddy- wanna pay for cosmetic leg surgery?”

“I like your bruised up legs,” says Jeongguk.

“Me too, but not these ones.”

“Bruh, that’s enough cream on your skin,” Jeongguk exclaims, moving forward to snatch the cream from your hands. “More is not better. Come on, you’re okay.”

“It hurts.”

“Boohoo,” he sighs. You don’t move. “Ugh, whatever. Come’re.”

Jeongguk drops the cream tube onto the sink but it clatters into the bowl. He’ll move it later if he remembers to, and he pretends it’s hard to pick you up off the bathtub and carries you swiftly out of the bathroom and into the living room. Things have barely moved since he last came to visit; the swarms of paper still invade your coffee table and your laptop is on sleep mode by a half-empty coffee cup filled with hot chocolate, because he knows your standing on coffee. Everything is a lot messier now that you’ve decided you want to go back to school, but at least Jeongguk knows it keeps you busy when he’s away.

“Oh,” he says suddenly, as you’re sat down with one leg up around him still. He pokes at a spot on your leg and you squirm, “there’s another one.”

You peer to look, “Oh, yeah, that one’s you.”

“Oh.” He pauses, “Pretty, though.”

You huff like a little baby and he dares you with raised eyebrows. That keeps you silent and Jeongguk moves his body at an angle to the right, sweeping to kiss the bruise better, the bruise that he made a few nights ago with tender love and care.

“All better,” he assures.

“It feels better already.”

“Mm. Magic.”

(8) Buying them something unrequested because it made you think of them.

“So, I was at a school fayre today.”

“Really?” Jeongguk sits with his laptop on his legs, and your legs are tangled around his body like some sort of jungle maze. He rarely works on his bed, not unless the work is sudden and he can’t help it. You’ve just come in, dived on the bed and claimed his waist as something to squeeze your legs around.

“Yep. Like, one of those little craft things where students sell their shit and make money from it. You know, supporting local artists! It’s really cute, if I was good at something I’d have participated.”

Jeongguk thinks of things you’re good at, and there’s a lot. “Aw. There’s always next year.”

“Yeah,” you reason. “Anyway- point is, is that I got you something.”

Jeongguk stills for a second, glancing over his right shoulder to see you, “Me?”

“Yep. You.”

“What did you get?” he asks, and then he’s back to checking blueprints.

You untangle your legs and slide off the bed, retreating to your bag slung across the room by the bedroom door. From here, you take out a small little pin-badge and when you’re sat next to Jeongguk again, you fiddle with it until it catches his attention.

“What’s this?” asks Jeongguk.

“It’s a badge of honour,” you claim, and you slip it into his palms. He fingers the front when he examines it, reading the little words of “Number One Dad” and he stares up at you. “Like it?”

“It’s for me?” he asks again.

“Yeah. You can wear it and like, I don’t know, think of me,” you shrug.

Jeongguk thinks for a moment. Even though it’s stupid, and cliche and a little bit embarrassing, he still thinks it’s funny and thoughtful.

“Want me to wear it to work?” he asks you.

“Oh, absolutely,” you encourage. “I’ll get Taehyung an uncle badge if he gets pissy.”

“Hey, you’re mine and he’s not allowed a relationship to you, no matter what definition,” Jeongguk pouts. “He wants a sugar niece, well...he’ll have to look somewhere else.”

You gape. “Wow. Who thought you had it in you to be so possessive.”

“Please, with a pussy like that of course I’m possessive,” he teases. He’s joking.

“My power,” you sigh anyway, and jump off the bed claiming that you’re hungry. Jeongguk looks at the badge again and pops it in his breast pocket before he loses it and regrets it.

(9) Participating in their hobby even if it doesn’t personally interest you.

Jeongguk’s bored out of his brain.

He has no idea how you can be so fascinated by this stupid game where you’re essentially in debt, but he still sits and watches you tour him around this weird island that is inhabited by ducks and an ugly gorilla villager dressed in pink. And to think that he had a part to play in all of this, because his bank account definitely helped pay for this Nintendo Switch and game.

“Do you like my beach?” you ask him. It’s literally just sand and one coconut tree, and a few shells by the water. Oh, there’s a beach chair on there too, but it makes little difference. “I’m poor, I can’t afford furniture yet.”

“Can’t you just make it?”

“I can, but I’m sick of making axes to collect wood,” you explain with a grudge against the fact that tools now break in this Animal Crossing game. Jeongguk hums like he’s invested, and he tries to be, because he cares about you too much to unintentionally hurt your feelings by displaying his crippling disinterest.

“Oh. Makes sense.”

“Can I show you my hybrid flower garden?”

He sighs. “Yeah, you wanted to show me all of your island, right?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Once you’ve had a tour, I can make you a profile and you can play too. You can live next door to me!”

“Why can’t we share a house?” Jeongguk presses.

“Because I don’t think it works like that, babe,” you confess. “Anyway. Here’s my garden.”

(10) Sitting in comfortable silence while eating a meal.

He’s tired. You’re tired.

The radio plays quietly updating Seoul on the fires that spread across the city today, and Jeongguk smells like smoke and salt. He keeps his head down as he eats his meal, something he brought home with him to make up for the fact that he’s been absent for almost a week now. You have so many things to say and he has so many things he needs to say to make up for everything, but nothing is said tonight.

You know he’s having a hard time, because Jeongguk’s been smoking again. He smoked on the balcony earlier, and once again in the bedroom. There are now ashtrays around your own apartment, and you don’t even smoke. Jeongguk takes a drink of bourbon and swallows it dry.

You look up at him from across the table, not wanting to press the issue when you know it’ll end in an argument, and then sex to make up for it. You’re both too tired to fuck today, too tired to speak. Just being in each other's company is enough for tonight. The only words he says are goodnight and something you don’t catch as you’re drifting off to sleep. Jeongguk’s awake all night, the fires burn until early hours, and the smoke smell is still there in the morning even when he isn’t.

#im sick of myself and my brain making new fics instead of finishing current ones #oh well #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jeongguk scenario #jungkook x reader #bts #bangtan #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jeongguk x reader #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jjk #bts mafia au #sugar daddy au #wordless

[collecting-stories]

Wisdom Tooth - Kiara Carrera

Request: hi there! can i request a kiara x reader where reader has to get her wisdom teeth taken out and she asks kiara to come along with her and the others come along too bc they know you like kiara. after it’s done you’re very clingy to kiara and keep complimenting her and confess that you like her ? thank you !

A/N: Fun fact, I have 3 out of 4 wisdom teeth still but I had to lose a molar when I got the one removed because it was impacted. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Your mom had scheduled your appointment for after school, it was a half day and she figured you could walk across campus to the dentist’s office to get your wisdom teeth pulled before winter break. The upper right tooth was impacted, evidenced by the increasing amount of pain you were constantly in and they had decided to go ahead and pull all of them while they were pulling that one.  

“Don’t they like, dose you up with painkillers?” John B asked as the four of you cut across the parking lot after school. The only disadvantage of Kiara not going to the same school as you anymore was that you always had to wait for her to drive down from the Eight. Even now as you walked with John B, JJ, and Pope (who had invited themselves along to your dentist’s appointment for some unknown reason) you were looking for Kiara’s subaru.  

“I wanna be dosed up with painkillers.” JJ said, followed almost immediately by a groan as Pope smacked him in the chest.  

“I seriously don’t think you guys are allowed in.” You said, stopping at the front door of the house that had been refashioned into a dentist’s practice.  

“Why? Kiara’s coming.” JJ argued, glancing over as the green subaru pulled into a parking spot, “why does she get to go in and not us?”

“Is it because you love her more than us?” Pope asked, grinning when you groaned and rolled your eyes.  

“It’s because she won’t be a total dick to me when I’m all doped up.” You replied.  

“We’ll be saints!” John B swore, placing a hand over his heart. Pope and JJ quickly mirrored his stance. “Honest, we’ll sit in the waiting room and be silent.”

“You’d better.”

“What are you guys doing?” Kiara asked, coming up the front steps behind the four of you.  

JJ turned around to face her, “going inside, what are you doing?”

You didn’t say anything, opening the door and going in, everyone else following behind you. The living room had been converted to a waiting area with a fish tank and a few different activities for kids to stay occupied. You went to the front desk window to check in while JJ, Pope, and John B went over to the coloring table, sitting around on kid sized chairs as they divided up coloring pages. Kiara grabbed a chair and sat down, away enough that she could pretend the people she just walked through the door with were complete strangers and not her actual friends.  

“Okay,” you fell into the seat next to her, knee bobbing as you took a deep breath. You hated needles and surgery and anything that meant a trip to the doctor. Especially when that doctor was a dentist. It didn’t matter that your tooth hurt so bad that even now you were holding an ice pack that you’d nabbed from the school nurse against your cheek. You hated dentists, “she said they’ll call me when it’s my turn.”

“Well we’re the only ones in here so I can’t imagine that’ll take too long.” Kiara replied, reaching over to put a hand on your knee, “it’ll be okay, I’m right here.”

“I’m just freaking out.” You replied, glancing over to JJ, Pope, and John B, all huddled over coloring pages with crayons spilled out in the middle of the table, “I wish I could be that chill.”

“How’s your tooth feeling?” She asked, glancing their way before turning to you again, sympathetic smile on her face. She’d been the first one to realize that there was something wrong with your tooth.  

“Like it’s trying to murder me.” You replied, slumping over slightly in the chair. Kiara pouted at you and put her hand on your back, rubbing in small circles.  

The door by the counter opened and a nurse came out, calling your name into the small waiting room that was empty aside from your friends. When all five of you looked up at the same time she looked a little startled.

“Can I bring someone back?” You asked, getting up.

“Only one person.” She replied, eyeing the three boys drawing at the table, “this isn’t an afterschool hang out.”  

“We’re here for moral support.” JJ said, winking at you.  

You glared at him in return. All three boys knew about your crush on Kiara and had tagged along with the intention of watching you hopped up on laughing gas and uninhibited. Even Pope had been joking about you being all crazy like people always seemed in videos on youtube.  

“That’s fine, just,” you pointed to Kiara and she got up, coming over to you.  

“Alright, follow me.”  

You walked back into the dentist’s exam room, Kiara slipping her hand into yours encouragingly and squeezing. You hated the dentist as it was and if your tooth wasn’t impacted you would have kept all your wisdom teeth in.  

You weren’t exactly sure what length of time actually passed between you being led back to get your wisdom teeth out and the dentist sending you back out, five teeth, because your molar had to come out too, in a tiny plastic container. Despite the anxiety you had before and the pain you were in, you came out smiling, Kiara’s hands on your waist as she walked behind you.  

“She almost walked into the bathroom door.” Kiara explained as John B, Pope, and JJ stood up to meet you both. “I’m gonna sign her out.”

You were passed from Kiara to John B, who wrapped his arm around your waist as you hugged him. “Hi!”

“Hey, how you feeling?”  

“Look,” you held the little plastic container up and rattled it around, bobbing your head as if there was some kind of beat to the sound.  

“She made her teeth into a maraca.” Kiara mentioned, looking back at the four of you as she signed you out.  

“That’s definitely some serial killer shit.” JJ replied, grabbing your bag off the floor and heading towards the door, John B maneuvering the two of you to follow him.  

“Where are we going?” You asked, suddenly concerned, twisting your body to see Kiara.

“We’re going outside.”

“What about Kie?”

“I’m right behind you, promise.” Kiara called, grabbing her stuff and following Pope out of the little house. “Are we headed back to the Chateau?” She asked as she walked around to the driver’s side of her suv.  

When John B tried to put you in the backseat with JJ and Pope you protested, calling out shotgun. “I wanna sit next to Kie.”

“Okay, okay, we’re sitting you up front.” He promised opening the door and helping you in.

You leaned against the seat, laying your head on the headrest and turning to look at Kiara as she started the car and backed up into the road. “You’re so pretty.” You mused, drugs in full effect, killing whatever filter you would have usually had.  

JJ leaned over enough to smack John B’s arm as Pope started filming the two of you.  

“Thanks.” Kiara laughed, “you’re pretty too.”

“Do you really mean it?” You asked, looking a little teary eyed.  

“Yeah of course, you’re super pretty.”  

You smiled, leaning a little closer to her and just watching her for a minute before opening your mouth again, more damning information coming out. “I like you.”

Kiara looked back at the three boys through the rearview mirror before glancing over at you, unsure exactly what was happening right now. “I like you too.”

“Really?” You seemed even more moved by the idea that she also liked you and Kiara nodded.  

“Yeah of course, you’re my best friend.”

You groaned, rolling your head against the headrest momentarily before turning back to her, “no, not like that. Not like friends. I like you so much, you’re so pretty and I just want to go on dates with you and kiss you and love you.” You confessed. “When we went swimming last week and you had the green bathing suit and you looked so pretty and I was just like...what if we were girlfriends.”  

“Uh...” Kiara stopped the car at a stop sign, idling for longer than necessary as she fought the urge to look over at you, no doubt smiling at her like you had been since you got doped up, trying to process exactly what you’d just said to her.

“Any response there Kie?” John B asked, trying not to laugh as he leaned toward the driver’s seat.

“I think we should talk about this when you’re feeling a little less foggy.” She finally said, chancing a look over at you. She had been thrilled when you asked her to go with you into the dentist’s, as crazy as that sounded. But she got excited whenever you relied on her for something or asked her opinion or included her in something personal. She knew you were friends but it was always easy to pretend that it was something a little more than that. Hearing you say that you wanted to be her girlfriend had erupted an entire colony of butterflies in her stomach though she hadn’t quite envisioned this as the venue where you confessed your feelings.  

“I’m not foggy...I’ve never been clearer.” You replied though she had trouble believing that considering your trouble walking down the stairs.

“She’s never been clearer.” JJ chimed in.  

Kiara twisted in her seat, ready to tell the three of them that they could walk back to the Chateau if they didn’t shut up when a car pulled up behind her and beeped.  

“Sorry dude, we’re having a friends to lovers moment!” JJ shouted out the window.  

“I will come back there!” Kiara threatened as you giggled. The car behind them pulled around, slamming on their horn the whole time before finally throwing back the middle finger as they sped off.  

“Some people man,” Pope muttered and Kiara glared at him as well.  

“Why don’t we talk when we get to John B’s?” She offered, looking over at you.

“Why?” You asked, “you don’t like me? Are you gonna break up with me?”

“We’re not dating yet.”

“She said yet.” John B pointed out, smacking your shoulder like you were even coherent enough to understand the implication.  

“Okay, I am driving this car the rest of the way and if any of you distracts me I will kick you out.” Kiara announced, turning back around to face the front and taking the car out of park to continue driving on. “We will talk at John B’s.”

“Okay.” You twisted in your seat, leaning against the backrest as smiling at her as you watched her drive.  

-

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[coping-via-clint-eastwood]

4x12 - GSR fix-it fic

(A/N:  What the motherfuck- TUMBLR HAS A TEXT BLOCK LIMIT?!!!! UUUGGGHHH!!!! I guess this is gonna have to be in two parts. But, I guess...this whole thing is pushing 9000 words, so I'll split it 4500-4500. Yeah. I'm as tired as Gil now. I'm gonna go sleep with him. I was inspired to write this after watching that video.  Anyways, they're actually together in this one.  Aka when Gil FINALLY goes home, he can rest his forehead on Sara's and reassure himself that she's actually still okay, and that she's actually still right there, with him.  Because I crave this for them.  So, there are many and heavy contextual changes. Fyi, I'm not writing out every single piece of dialogue/action, hell no.  I'm just writing whatever's relevant to GSR. Oh and, warning - canon-typical ns/fw

{I'm sorry about the formatting but I would like to give} Special thanks to @addictedtostorytelling for...basically saving my ass with all the details of this fic. Thank you for answering my questions, no matter how inane, dumb, unnecessary, or worse. And of course @stokes-theorem got me out of a panic attack; it is much appreciated 🙏)

Gil walked through the house of the 419 of the night, having had to put protective coverings over his shoes so that he did not disturb any evidence he might accidentally step on. He had to keep his back to the wall and walk sideways as well. (The sound of his footsteps were adorable.) As he passed the spare bedroom, he noticed that the victim possessed a collection of butterfly-resembling trinkets, all displayed nicely on her shelf. He made it to the area of event at last, squatting down to take a closer look at the body.

His eyebrows jumped up in shock - the victim had a strong resemblance to Sara. For a few moments longer, he stared at his (secret) girlfriend's image, a dozen thoughts swirling around in his head but never aligning themselves. It was his unfailing sense of duty that allowed him to literally get his head upright and get back to his team, who was waiting outside. But when he opened the door, the very person in his line of sight was Sara; again he stared, this time at her actual self. Inside, there was a dead body, who looked so like her, but here she was, living, breathing and- turning her head to stare right back at him. But the one's gaze held such a different meaning from the other's.

Jim, who was past Sara in Grissom's line of sight, thought that he was the one the team leader wanted to see, so he stepped between the scientists. "Ready for us?"

"For now, no one enters this house except CSI."

[CUE THE INTRO]

Gil assigned Warrick to the car, but he assigned Sara to the perimeter, to which she shook her head in disbelief and questioned, "What? You just did a one hour walk-through. The perimeter cannot be a priority." On 'not', she shrugged and laughed wryly.

His gaze immediately turned beseeching. "I need you to work the outside. Catherine and I will be inside." He momentarily shifted his eyes in the direction of the door at the last bit but immediately looked back at her, his eyes even more pleading. Sara gave him an 'alright, fine' smile and went to do as he said.

Gil did not examine the car, but there was a fair chance that it would yield a fair amount of evidence. However, he had, as Sara remarked, gone over the perimeter, so he knew that Sara's scouring of it would bear no fruit. He deliberately did this; he wanted to dissociate Sara from the case as much as possible, in his own little way.

While Catherine went to interrogate the victim's friend, Gil took the opportunity to go back and stare the body for a bit longer.  He was (understandably) haunted that the 419 looked like the love of his life.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not hear Catherine walk in behind him; his head flinched to the side when she spoke, "One thing I can never get over with this job: anything can happen to anybody."

Gil clicked his tongue and responded, "That's why we're here," before going back to looking over the corpse.

Soon enough, Sara was let in a little more on the action when she had to crawl under the house and unscrew a pipe running from the bathroom to get the water that had been drained into it, as well as process the actual pipe.  However, Gil insisted that she was to return to the laboratory and test just those pieces of evidences as soon as she was done; his intent was that she would be occupied with something appertaining to the case but not in such a major capacity, thus satisfying her curiosity if only on a temporal basis.  Gil and Sara did not know it, but when she looked up into the pipe, Gil happened to be spraying luminol onto it on the other side.  (A/N:  Can I just take a moment to appreciate the cinematography here?  As well as the music <3)

The bugs helped the bug man out again; flies swarmed the dustbins that had pieces of corpse inside them.

After those were sent back to Al and David, Gil went back inside the house.  This time, he examined the victim's collection of synthetic butterflies.  He was turning over one that was blue, translucent, and had a base so that it could stand, a thoughtful frown on his forehead.  If Sara had been there to see him, she would have kissed it away.  He put the butterfly down and picked up a framed picture of Debbie.  With her arms straight up in the air and an open-mouthed smile that showed her top row of teeth, it was evident that she had been jubilant at the time of photography.  Gil shook his head; not because he pitied the loss of her joy, but because he was once again struck by her likeness to the greatest joy in his own life.  He tore his eyes away from the photo and looked at himself in the mirror, trying to collect himself.

But the adverse was achieved, because the bed was visible in the mirror, and he envisioned the victim sitting on it facing away from him, alive and well.  She then looked over her shoulder at him; the image was replaced with that of Sara.

Grissom clenched his jaw.  He stiffly tilted his head to one side, his gaze at himself hardening.  All in an reinforced effort to steel himself.

He was forcibly yanked out of his thoughts when his phone rang; his head flinched a little way in its direction while his eyes flickered down to it.  He picked it up and manage to announce in his normal voice, "Grissom."

"Hey!"  came the voice of the very woman who plagued him so, her voice cheery; she had dismissed any offence she had felt earlier from her mind and forgiven him, just being happy to hear from her man.

But her voice made him drop his mouth open in shock. Restraining the last of his resolve from flying out the window, he said, "Sara.  Uuuuhhh listen I'm in a bad area, I'll call you back."  He deliberately raised his voice a little to make his lie more believable.

Even though he could not see her, she gave a little nod; physical embodiment of her acknowledgment.  She responded by raising her voice just as he did when he next spoke.  "I got a skin tag off the bathroom drain pipe."

"Skin tag.  That's great.  Uh, give it to Greg."

"Yeah I did.  Hey do you want me to come over there and give you a hand?"

"No I'm-I'm-I'm fine," he stuttered, his free hand moving up then down again, as if he was physically dismissing (his emotions besides) her offer.  "I'll-i'll-i'll- uh...I'll talk to you back at the lab."  He immediately hung up after that.  He raised his head to glare at himself; he needed to force himself to push whatever emotions he had aside so that he could focus on the case.

As for Sara, she frowned in concern, but went on brushing what she put down as his typical eccentricity aside and went to help Warrick out with Michael Clark's car.  A third party would have enjoyed watching them work, especially with John M.  Keane's music.

After that, Sara and Warrick convened with Catherine in the break room to go over the course of the physical events of the murder.  Grissom joined remotely by holding his pager to his ear with one hand, while the break room's table had a speaker that his phone was tapped into; it was certainly much easier to communicate with Sara remotely and in a group where he could avoid speaking directly to her instead of communing in private where he literally had to face her.  Since Grissom was at the house, he walked through it himself in accordance with his team's narration.  When Sara spoke, he had to tilt his phone away from his ear, catching himself tripping again.  Since he was at the scene of the crime, he narrated how the deed was done.  As always, he had been envisioning the actual events, so it was difficult for him to picture such a thing happening Sara's likeness, but he pulled through; he did pause for extremely brief moments, and those could be put down perfectly as him taking time to think.

Sara, Catherine and Warrick finally went home after one and a half shifts.  As Sara approached the door to her and Gil's place, she could hear Hank scratching at it.  She smiled and opened the door. "Hey!" she called at the same time that Hank barked. Hank then stepped behind her and sniffed the air. "He's not here," Sara told him, gently pushing him inside with one hand and holding her kit with the other.  She sat on the couch and directed him to sit next to her.  She took her phone out of her pocket and showed it to him.  "We'll call him, huh?"  Hank had come to understand that that little slab of plastic with an area that would light up was something that humans used to communicate with each other.  There were frequent occasions when one of his humans was away, and the other would hold this object in between him and them.  Then, when the human pressed some things that made beeping sounds, there would be a certain tone for a while until the other human's voice could be heard from it; this was one such occasion.

Sometimes however, the other human's voice would not be heard.  In those cases, he and the human would just bark or speak into the slab by themselves.  After several hours, the slab would start up with a ringing sound, and when the human made a beep, the other human's voice could be heard.  He would always bark joyfully then and wag his tail.

So Hank smiled at Sara, tongue hanging out as he panted eagerly.  He watched and listened as she made the slab beep, and a tone followed.  Not too long after, the tone ended, and was replaced with a, "Grissom." He had had to turn away from the area of wall he was swabbing and take the phone out of his inner breast pocket.

Hank immediately started barking into the object, letting his human know that he was excited to hear from him and missed him.  Both humans giggled.  (At least Hank managed to cheer Gil up for a little bit.)  Sara absentmindedly ran her other hand down his ear as she waited for him to stop barking so that she could have her turn at speaking. The dog was aware of this, and let his mother have her turn in due time. "We miss you," she smiled.

He sounded forlorn as he answered, "I know... I miss you too...but I have to finish this." He was frowning sadly, and his shoulders were slumped. Sara thought that he was sad because he regretted not being able to come home to her. While this was true, he had another reason: that he had to deal with...this. And it was not that he had to deal with it; it was something that he had taken upon himself to. All he wanted was to protect his Sara, even if it meant hiding (fortunately minor) details of the case from her, and foregoing sleep altogether.

"Why not come home? Take a break. And you can continue tomorrow," she tried to coax him.

He shook his head even though she could not see him. "No. You go ahead without me," he said woefully.

She frowned in concern. "We gotta stop doing this." She was referring to the fact that they often stayed up for the whole day to work on cases instead of getting sleep.

"I know, I know," he sighed, his free hand squeezing his temples. "I promise I'll get more sleep after this case, okay?"

There was a period of silence when Sara nodded. "Okay," she said genially.

She heard her boyfriend huff a sigh; he dipped his head defeatedly when he did that. "Look, I-i-i'm sorry," he stuttered for the second phone call from her in a row.

She shook her head, "Don't be. It's alright. I'm guilty of the same thing." As well as she could hear that he was in dire need of sleep, she would not force him to since he did not want to. Plus, there was no way she could get Gil to come home without people questioning as to how she managed to get through to the stubborn workaholic; suspicion would be raised as to the true extent of their relationship.  He was at a loss as to what to say.  So, she rescued him as usual, "I'll see you back at the lab?"

He felt as if there were chains around his body that had just been loosened. Finally, something he could answer honestly! He felt as if he was ripping them off as he answered, "I don't think so. I still have to process the carpet-"

"The carpet?! Gil, that thing runs over every inch of floor!!!" Hank, who had been contently resting his head on Sara's lap, jerked his head up at the sudden interjection.

"I know," he groaned slightly, the vocalisation coming more naturally now that he was free. The boxer lay his head back down. "It has to be done though."

She nodded before saying, "I know. Don't run yourself into the ground, okay? I mean," here he could hear her snicker, "no more than you usually do."

For the first time in over a day, he smiled. A small but genuine smile that made the corners of his storm blue eyes crinkle endearingly; if Sara was there to see it, she would have kissed him. "I'll try not to." And, ah, how nice - she could hear the amusement in his voice.

"Take care of yourself. Remember to eat at least. I love you."

"I'll try. I love you too. I love you Hank!" His head jerked up again and enthusiastic barking ensued. The humans followed suit with more giggling before they hung up. With his spirits lifted anew from his conversation with Sara, he pocketed his phone and got back to work with a little more energy than he had before.

As for Sara, she put a hand on Hank's head and said, "Well boy, let's go and eat some breakfast huh?"  He gave a cheery bark and jumped off the couch.  Sara closed and locked the door, carried her kit and followed him down the stairs.  She hurried to put her kit away and then popped back to the kitchen to set out Hank's food, and then get herself food. They ate, went for a walk, and returned. Sara took a shower, and put on Gil's shirt after. When it came time for bed, Sara asked Hank to lie on the bed with her, and cuddled him. "Since Gil isn't here, I'll hold you tonight," she smiled. He seemed to understand as he nuzzled her face and lay his head back down.

A little after the phone call, Gil did go and eat. He shed himself of his coveralls, put them in his car, got in himself, and drove to the nearest diner. He ate there and then took away a second meal for his lunch, which he ate at the appropriate time. Sara went to the laboratory at nine o' clock that night, wanting to do all she could to help her boyfriend. She went to check on Warrick's progress.  Upon finding him sifting through the contents of the victim's vacuum cleaner with a pair of tweezers and coughing profusely, she teased, "He-he-heyyy. Blacklung."

"Ah...I've been sifting through this trash for about six hours." That meant that he had been working for the entirety of the swing shift. "You come here to rescue me or make fun of me?" the poor man retorted.

"I am just looking, relax." She pointed to one of the petri dishes Warrick had set out to sort the evidence. "What are these white fibres here?"

"They must be from the spare bedroom, because all the other carpets are green."

Sara looked at the plan drawing of the house. "Spare bedroom wasn't on his entrance or exit path."

"Look, all I know is that they were near the top of the bag, so it must've been one of the last things he vacuumed." Sara gave small nods of acknowledgment.

"I did manage to find this butterfly pendant..." Warrick moved his tweezers to the petri dish where it was and picked it up, "...with some white fibres in it. Looks like it's from a necklace, or a bracelet. And it has this link, which has snapped so I'm thinking...sign of struggle?" He straightened up a little bit to raise his point.

"Killer was in that spare bedroom."

Gil's panicky obsessiveness was certainly affecting a fair few of his teammates. Catherine went to the scene of the crime at the same time as Sara returned to the laboratory.  She knew that Gil was very stressed out about the victim looking so much like their dear friend, and so she wanted to help him.

(Poor Gil...he did not realise that when he worried, his team family worried too and would do whatever they could for him; he did not realise that they could love him as much as he loved them.  He had such heavy doubt about his own lovability, so much so that he even almost rejected Sara when she first asked him out.)

Catherine walked in to see Gil processing the carpet (to the amazing soundtrack). During the conference, he had mentioned that he had processed the carpet on the threshold of the bathroom, and at present he was processing the area of carpet just beyond that.  Her work-wife face on, she said to him, "Don't tell me you never went home."

Gil looked up at her, one hand still on the carpet and the other holding his filter paper. "Okay." Since she did not want to hear anything to that effect, he decided to water it down by saying, "I just got started in here.  I haven't even got into any of the rooms yet."

"You know you lose your edge after sixteen hours, and you're into your third shift. She brought her forearms out to her sides. "I mean I'm all for overtime but, this is just plain greedy."

He shook his head tiredly before reassuring her, "My knees can't take this anymore." As fuelled as he was from his food, it still physically hurt to remain on one's knees for an extended period of time.

"Have you eaten anything?"

"Yes."

"Ah," she nodded approvingly.  "Then, how about a shower?"  Gil shook his head.  Catherine raised an eyebrow in turn.  At Gil's look of horror, she clarified, "I mean at your place.  You need to go home."

"As soon as we find some evidence, I promise."

"With fresh eyes you won't miss it."

Her work-husband groaned as he stood up, his knees creaking.  "Just talk it through with me will ya?  What do we know?"

Catherine's eyes shifted to the side in thought.  "Alright."  She inhaled deeply before continuing, "The bathroom is where things got started. Candles, oils...steam shower...cleaned up, oiled up...sexed up."

"Let's go back to the bedroom," Gil voiced, moving his head a little way in the direction of the bedroom. They got their UV-protective goggles out of their kits, with Catherine taking the torchlight as well.  Cath shone the light on the topmost bedsheet, but nothing showed up under the fluorescence. "No, nothing on this sheet," Gil noted. He lifted that sheet to expose the one underneath, to yield the same result; he gently cocked his head to one side in acknowledgement (which was cute).

"She changed her sheets for her date; I would," Catherine remarked.

Since there was nothing to be found on the top surface of the bed, Gil let his gaze wander to the side of the bed. A ring embedded into the mattress caught his eye with a loop red cloth threaded through it with the rest stuffed under the mattress caught his eye; this time his head jerked a little to the side in vigilance. He squatted down and pulled it out, passing hand over hand.  When it was completely free and he could see what it was, he transferred it to one hand so that he could take off his goggles with the other.  He then looked up at his colleague with an uncomfortable expression and called, "Hey Cath..." When she looked at him, he held the thing up as if he was holding a dead rat and continued, "...got silk?"  His eyes shifted to the object as he asked that.  What he meant by that was if there was an identical finding on her side.

She looked down at her side of the mattress, and opened her mouth at the discovery and looked back at him.  Gil kept an inquiring gaze on her and took the opportunity to stand up.  She bent to her side while reaching an arm down and fished the cloth out.  "Why yes I do."  Gil looked back at the one in his own hand and shook it to see if anything would fall out; he was still disconcerted and frowning though.  His unease was turned into scepticism when Catherine said, "Iiii don't mean to embarrass you but um...some guys need leverage," as she stepped towards the foot of the bed and removed the sheets to uncover the barrier.

"They do?"  He was frowning a little bit harder; Sara certainly never complained.

Grinning in the hopes of finding something, Catherine gave a nod before saying, "I'll dust for prints."

While she did that, Gil's phone rang again.  He took his phone out from the same place he had when Sara called.  "Grissom."  He stuffed the hand not holding his phone comfortably into his pocket.

"It's Warrick.  I have somethin' for you - I found a butterfly link.  With some white fibres in it."

Grissom started walking to the other bedroom.  "Butterfly where?"

"In the vacuum bag.  You check all the rooms?"

"Lemme look again, and I'll get back to you."

"Alright." Grissom had reached the spare bedroom by then, so he put his phone away and got up to the shelf where the victim's butterfly collection was, a smile gracing his face at the sight of insects. He shone his (regular) torchlight on the contents of the shelf. When came across some more photos of Debbie, he drew himself back slightly, but quickly tore his gaze away from them; this was not the time to dwell on his feelings. His gaze averted to a blue jewellery box next to them, decorated with even more images of butterflies. He opened it; inside, there was an assortment of accessories, all butterfly-themed. He carefully used a finger to move them about, pushing them aside to see if there were any broken-off pieces. He did find one near the top right of the box.

In the meantime, Catherine had successfully made a print show up.  She tape-lifted it with a triumphant smile and proudly brought it to show Grissom.  "Hang one.  Toe print.  I'll have Sara compare it against both victims."

"Good."  Sara was the only unoccupied person.  "Warrick found a butterfly charm in the vacuum bag...I think I just found a piece from the same chain in this box."  He pointed to it.

"Butterfly huh?"  Catherine mused, her eyes moving to look over the rest of the trinkets.

"She had a collection." He seemed quite happy to announce that, and it was no wonder why.

"Gifts?  From her...gentleman callers?"

"Maybe the killer was taking his gift back.  As in, leave no trace.  Maybe he finally ran out of patience and got sloppy."  At the last sentence, his voice deepened, as if he was challenging the unseen and unknown perpetrator.  Upon shining his torch on the shelf below, he found a strand of hair.  Short and white, as would come from an elderly man.  He squatted, with Catherine following suit, and picked it up with his tweezers.  "And this is why I didn't leave."  His voice was soft with excitement and victory. Catherine left to bring the hair and toe print back to the laboratory, giving the print to Sara and the hair to Greg. Gil got back to Warrick and informed him of the matching butterfly.

Sara went to take the lower ten cards of both victims. Having finally gotten the chance to look at Debbie, she moved the swivel chair she was sitting on to draw herself up beside the victim's face. She stared down at it.  And suddenly, she understood.  She understood Gil's skittishness, understood why he had been reluctant to let her in on the case.  And she was, of course, haunted; it could very well have been her on Al's slab.  She glanced about, not knowing what to think; she could not articulate her emotions even in her own head. Eventually, they settled on one person: Gil. Gil, her protector; the person who had been 'protecting' her from this case at any rate.  She would speak to him to clear her head; she could always talk to him, and he would never turn her away. Well...he used to. But that was when his feelings towards her were even more of a mess than they currently were. He had progressed a lot with her help.

With that temporary comfort, she finished up and went to run the prints through AFIS. That took several hours. By the time that day shift roller around, both Debbie Marlin and Michael Clark were ruled out.  She then went to find Gil.  Or Catherine; whichever she found first. She went to the shift supervisor's office; nobody was there. And nobody was in the assistant shift supervisor's office either. But after some wandering around, she found Catherine in the locker room, sitting on a bench and changing her shoes. "Hey," Sara called, trying to seem cheery, "you seen Grissom?"

"He's still at the crime scene," Catherine responded, glancing at her as she did.

Sara nodded to signify her acknowledgment before reporting, "I eliminated both victims from the print you pulled off the bed."

"Well we know she was fishing off the company pier..." Sara responded with a look and a nod. "You uh, seen Debbie?" Catherine looked at her properly, wanting to gauge her reaction.

"Yeah," she said laconically, not wanting to give anything away.

"And?" Catherine enquired.

"Yeah I compared her...toe prints," she avoided still, her expression hardening.

Seeing as that would lead nowhere, Catherine decided to comment, "If I didn't know better I'd think that it was you on that table."

"I didn't really...look at her face," Sara denied. Noticing Sara seemed sad somehow, Catherine relented and just gave her a knowing look. Sara let her face fall, and allowed herself to sound as pleading as she really was when she asked, "If you see Grissom will you tell him?" Catherine nodded sincerely. Sara just walked off after that. The assistant shift supervisor convened with Jim and they went to Desert Palm print samples.  They did find a match; Dr.  Tripton.  Catherine phoned Gil and informed him of it.

#Youtube #csi #gsr #4x12 #gil grissom #sara sidle #billy petersen #william petersen #jorja fox #c-v-c-e fic

[joezworld]

Story time!

Here’s what I love about this fight scene - it’s that this Asian guy is immediately ready to kick ass the moment that Tom Cruise and Superman start going after him. Like this guy is literally a nobody. He has no other role in this story except that he’s there. This guy was out on a night at the club and when he gets jumped by Superman and Ethan Hunt he doesn’t scream, or shout, or ask what is going on, he just immediately throws hands and totally wipes the floor with them. Like, he must know that there’s somebody after him, and he is ready to fight to the death at the drop of a hat. Maybe he’s Yakuza?

Maybe like, he’s some Yakuza guy who’s taking the night off from being Japanese organized crime in *checks notes* France for some reason and just wants to go to the club with his homies, and he goes to the bathroom while his buddy is out partying and just doesn’t come back. 

And after a while, like 20 minutes, his friend starts to wonder “Where did Yang go? Did he fall into the toilet or something?” Because Yang expects that someone might want him dead, but this is Japanese organized crime - some sort of formal notice is supposed to be given if they’re gonna put out a hit on you. So his buddy thinks nothing is wrong until he goes into the bathroom and finds it just destroyed - and Yang is GONE - because Superman called in the CIA cleanup squad once they left, so they’ve presumably already come in and dumped the body in the Seine or something just so nobody panics at the disco because they found a dead guy in the bathroom. 

So Yang’s buddy goes off to his boss and tells them that Yang is dead - he has to be - there was blood and the bathroom is destroyed and everything, and Yang isn’t answering his phone. And obviously nobody knows what the fuck actually happened, so these French Yakuza guys are sitting around, racking their fucking brains trying to figure out who the fuck would have that much dishonor to kill Yang and not even leave a note or a reason, and eventually they figure out - “ah! It must be Rival Gang Number 1!” 

So naturally there’s this outlandish and John Wickian series of gang fights as Yang’s gang just absolutely destroys this unsuspecting other gang that they think killed their buddy, led of course by Yang’s friend, who is totally going through some ‘John Wick tracking down the guy who killed his dog’ moments. This ends when Yang’s buddy is standing over the leader of the Rival Gang after some unimaginably bloody battle in some stylized location that is strangely like a Japanese palace but in Metropolitan France (because fuck you). They both know that at best, only one of them is getting out of this alive, and Yang’s buddy knows he should just ice the bastard and do the ritual yell that gets his friend into French Yakuza sto-vo-kor or whatever. 

But he has to know

“Why did you do it?” 

And the other guy spits out a mouthful of blood and maybe a tooth and goes “I should be asking you the same question - why did you attack us? We were at peace.”

And Yang’s buddy goes “We were, until you killed Yang”

“What? No we didn’t. Why would we do that?” and this old Yakuza boss is a man of honor, even to his enemies. If he says he didn’t do something he means it. He does. Not. lie. Ever.

And so the two of them just sit there for a minute and absorb the information that this whole gang war was in error. Of course, being the sly and conniving French Yakuza leaders they are, it never occurs to them that Yang got killed because Tom Cruise couldn’t figure out what his target looked like and grabbed the wrong guy, so they wrack their brains and eventually realize - ‘it’s a false flag operation. If we kill ourselves, Rival Gang #3 can take both of our places without jeopardizing their own operation. 

So naturally another bloody gang war goes on, this time with Yang’s Gang and Rival Gang Number 1 both fighting against Rival Gang #3. Again, a series of increasingly elaborate samurai gang battles take place across most of France (because this is in France - why? Fuck you) as these gangs try to avenge Yang. And again, they slaughter their way through the entire gang organization before finally realizing that no, Rival Gang #3 had nothing to do with this either. So they put their heads together and think about what might have happened and come to the conclusion that maybe it's a different gang - one made of actual French people and not a statistically improbable number of Japanese expats. 

And so they go to the French gang - who basically stops them at the door and says ‘we know why you’re doing this, and we went through our entire rolodex of People We Know and nobody did anything to Yang or knows who did - the only person we don’t know about is this one guy who we fired six months ago for being too crazy and if He Did This it wasn’t on Us. 

So the three gangs go okay, and take the little rolodex card and go looking for this crazy person that the French gang fired, and they find him, and they ask him what happened, and he says that he has no idea either, but he goes to that club too and knows that they have secret recording tech there so that they can blackmail their evil customers if they ever need to. 

So all of the upper management of these three gangs finish slapping themselves upside the head for forgetting something as simple as ‘pull the security tapes’ and they go and they intimidate the club owners to let them see the footage from the night this happened. They’re looking but it’s slow going, until one of the club’s security guards, who is standing right there - because they’re looking at everything inside the security room, says that he knows who Yang is - and it turns out that he moonlights as club security but his day job is at the local morgue, and he says that the Gendarmerie fished Yang’s body out of the Seine the day he died - whoever did it was sloppy and dumped him at low tide so he didn’t hit the water, otherwise they’d have never found him. 

So now these gangs are wondering what the fuck actually happened to Yang, because if someone dumped him in the river they clearly were hiding the body, not trying to make a statement, which is what Franco-Japanese Yakuza groups are all about - because they totally live for Drama. So it clearly wasn’t anyone they knew or anyone that knew them. 

To make things even more confusing they finally get the footage of Yang, and there’s not a clear idea of what happened, because Yang went in, then other people went in, then more people went in, then most of the people left. Then two guys walk in, followed by a bunch of drunks - who leave before the two guys do. Yang hasn’t left yet, but then a woman runs into the men’s bathroom, before leaving with the two guys who came in before - and they look beat up. Then a bunch of janitors go in and then leave - these are presumably the body clean-up crew, but who is everyone else? 

“What the fuck does this mean?” The gangsters say to themselves. Clearly the beat up guys are the ones that did it, but who the fuck are they? Nobody has any idea who they are, so they decide to trace these guys through the club to see where they came from and where they went. 

And now things go from unusual to downright weird, because the guys who killed Yang and the girl they left the bathroom with then go into the private area of the club, one of them picks up a girl at the bar, and then all four of them proceed to murderize like 7 guys who are trying to attack them before walking out of the club and into the night. Following the tapes of the two men back before they killed Yang reveals that they entered the club through the roof. VIA PARACHUTE. 

Who are these people? And what did Yang have to do with it? 

Finally the penny drops - oh shit, Yang was killed by the CIA. Because only the Americans are that crazy.

Now they’re panicking, running around trying to figure out if they’ve got a leak or a snitch or if this was a lucky hit and they’ve got nothing. No ideas, no clue. Why did this happen? 

Eventually someone calms down enough to burn a few favors at the US embassy and runs facial recognition. One of the guys comes back as CIA and since then he’s died so no luck. The women aren’t American, and then the other guy comes back as some random DMV worker in the United States. “Ethan Hunt”. 

Clearly this is some kind of cover - he has to be CIA too. 

So now these gangs have to try and figure out how the hell they’re going to kill a CIA agent without getting caught - because revenge/honor/sunk cost fallacy. They put their heads together and brainstorm a few ideas. Eventually they come to the master plan of: ‘grab him off the street and beat him to death’.

Smash cut to like 4 months later and they actually manage to grab Ethan Hunt off the streets of Durban or Nairobi or some other place where he’s doing some sort of op, and they get him back to a safehouse and just beat the crap out of him. Curiously he has no idea who they are or why they’re asking about Yang. This infuriates them until someone bashes him upside the head with a club and his skin peels off, revealing that it’s actually some British guy wearing a scarily good mask and a voice changer. 

Now everyone is panicking - Clearly Hunt is onto them - he had a double and everything - he knows. What does he know? How does he know? Who is he going after? All questions. No answers.

 So they go back and make another brilliant  plan to kill him again - this time they’re gonna do it right and just fucking bumrush the guy - kinda like the raid area 51 thing - he can’t stop all of us.

Meanwhile, Ethan Hunt and Vhing Rhames are losing their goddamn minds after Benji gets taken and brutally murdered by parties unknown. Seriously. They ran the plate on the car that grabbed him and it was rented to a Japanese tourist. This doesn’t mean anything. Who wanted Ethan Dead? Why? Who knows? Ethan is losing it because he thinks that he just got another member of his team killed again - because Ethan Hunt must suffer - and they obviously thought that Benji was him. 

Cut to Benji's funeral in England and it’s the standard dramatic part of the movie where Ethan is saying that he can’t work with another partner and he needs some time, yada yada yada. (Oh btw, this is like in the middle of Mission Impossible 12 or 19 or something. These Yakuza guys have been doing this all offscreen and we only see them yank Benji and then later find his body. From the movie’s perspective nobody has any idea what in the blessed fuck is going on.) 

So then we cut to Ethan sitting in his rental car, and it’s the standard dramatic scene of him silently screaming and pounding on the steering wheel of the car as he has a breakdown. But then, without the shot changing - the windows of the car suddenly fill up with angry Asian faces - it’s like a zombie movie, but with Yakuza - Ethan gets ripped from the car by dozens of angry gang members and we just see them beat him to a bloody paste while the camera is still inside the car. Arms and legs occasionally appear, but we don’t see the true horrors that the angry gangsters inflict upon him.

Credits roll - this is the end of the movie

Post credits scene cut to Vhing Rhames walking up to Ethan’s car later, as like the crime scene techs are there - Ethan’s dead, and it was bloody - he’s stabbed through the heart with a katana that then pinned him to the car door for fuck’s sake. And written in blood on the car is a message in Japanese - ‘He killed Yang, so we killed him.’ 

Nobody has any idea what this means. 

End of Mission Impossible series. 

#long #story #mission impossible #mission impossible fallout #MI Fallout #ethan hunt #Henry cavill #bathroom fight #fight scene #yakuza #headcanon #extremely specific headcanon #I wrote this one for me #mission impossible franchise #mission impossible series #how mission impossible should end #tom cruise #mission impossible bathroom fight #I wrote this at like three in morning in one long stream of consciousness