#reposting over on this blog and polishing it up to go in the tags

[rxttenfish]

Merfolk Relationship Hierarchy

Merfolk are hypersocial macropredators. This shouldn't be new information to anyone on my blog, but the sheer extent of merfolk sociability cannot be overstated. Their social nature is the entire reason they were able to become and specialize into macropredatory niches in the way that they have. Their close relatives, the leviathans, are an excellent example of what merfolk might have become if they didn't have their intense communal proclivities — being much more typical, expected examples of a secondarily aquatic large marine predator akin to marine reptiles of the past and whales of the present. Without their social bindings, merfolk might have entirely lost their hands for flippers, would lack their heightened connection to sound and language, and certainly wouldn't have shaped the ecosystems and the world they inhabit in the same way.

For this, merfolk relationships are complicated. They started as a way of forming a simple hunting group and handling life in large colonies, but as merfolk specialized further, so too did their relationships. More and more they focused on interpersonal politics and the complications of maintaining a large social group that was constantly evolving and shifting, which fostered the growth of their intelligence and sapience, which then led back even moreso into needing the ability to maintain and keep up with their relationships.

A merfolk in isolation is not a merfolk at all. While the exactness of this thought varies across their different cultures, it still holds true for all of them. On a literal level, merfolk can and do die of loneliness, their social needs as much of a requirement to them as the need for food or water. If you were to isolate a merfolk, to the point where they could not hear nor see anyone else, then they would endure a brutal one or two weeks, and then die. Every other need can be met, they can be otherwise entirely healthy, but without anyone else around, they cannot live.

On the more metaphorical level, a merfolk cannot exist solely on their own. Most merfolk cultures accept that the individual does not exist, and that there has to be some outside dialogue with other merfolk in order for them to even be alive. The self and identity are inherently plural to them, a multifaceted soul which exists in the bodies and lives of merfolk in a group, and which can't be broken down. Maintaining relationships and fostering them is as essential as feeding yourself, or feeding someone else.

For all of this, merfolk require much higher amounts of social interaction and connection. This is not to say that introverted merfolk do not exist, but they would be introverted by the measure of their fellow merfolk, and not by what humans might judge them to be. Much like how even the most introverted human could not endure the life of a solitary snake or spider, an introverted merfolk could not endure the life of an introverted human. Similarly, even an extroverted human could not compare against an extroverted merfolk.

Likewise, not every social interaction is the same to merfolk, and they maintain different emotional connections with different people, fulfilling a wider assortment of social needs. In fact, it is easiest to think of merfolk social structure as being like one large, interwoven, piece of lace, where each individual merfolk is represented by a single knot. They are all tied together into larger pieces, repeating patterns, all working together to create a singular, complex web of all the ways every merfolk is connected to every other merfolk.

For this, merfolk have different names for each different pattern, each different part at different scales and sizes. All are important, even if some are closer and tied nearer to the individual merfolk in question, and require greater maintenance to keep healthy.

These patterns and connections are, by far, what is most important to a merfolk. While merfolk are fully capable of experiencing platonic, familial, romantic, and sexual connections, it should be stated that this is not what the relationship hierarchy is based off of. They might be a part of that connection, but the connection itself and the place it occupies within the hierarchy is of far greater importance to a merfolk, to the extent that all else pales before it. Any point and connection within this web might be platonic, or familial, or romantic, but even a romantic connection to a merfolk might mean nothing against a platonic or familial connection if the latter outranks the former on their hierarchy of relationships.

Hence, from the smallest unit to the largest, this is (approximately) what the merfolk hierarchy of relationships looks like:

Yuu'itv + Ul’kiha

This can be thought of as the singular knot, as the individual merfolk themselves. This is what is most familiar to landfolk, as it typically does not refer to any more than one merfolk.

To the merfolk themselves, however, this is more theoretical and functional than a real part of their relationship hierarchy to be maintained. This is the building block of identity, the pieces which make up one true self, but pieces which are not as concerning or deserving of as much time as the selfhood itself.

The exception, as you might have noticed, is the inclusion of ul'kiha at this rung. Ul'kiha (in the common-technical language) is loosely translated as the water that runs through someone's gills, but in the plural. Less literally, it refers to a shared breath, a breathing as one. A shared body, in less flowery terms. Soulmates, in the easiest localization.

In short, an ul'kiha is another merfolk and individual who is so close to another merfolk that they are thought of as one person. A plural-becoming-singular, if you might. Other merfolk will treat two ul'kiha as the same person, talk to them as the same person, view their relationships to them as one person. It represents the tightest, closest bond any merfolk can have.

For this, ul'kiha are rare. Most merfolk will never take an ul'kiha in their lives, and for those that do, taking more than one is next to unheard of. Ul'kiha is, likewise, the only instance where a rung in the relationship hierarchy is solely romantic, and the only true crossover between the relationship hierarchy and humanity's views on relationships. While half of ul'kiha will refuse to take any other romantic partner, this is not comparable to marriage either, as the intensity of this connection could be thought of as codependent in a way that's natural for merfolk but doesn't occur in human relationships. While ul'kiha can split up, if one ul'kiha dies and the other doesn't, the living partner is expected to never take another ul'kiha again, and quite often the loss is enough to kill them too.

Miivt'ia

These are the first few knots the initial knot is tied to, and the first true rung on the relationship hierarchy.

In a sense, the miivt'ia is a merfolk's inner circle. These are the people who they are closest to in their lives, who they have a unique and potent bond with. A miivt'ia, likewise, is a group which is exclusive to itself, and all the members of a miivt'ia will feel the same way about each other, and count themselves in each other's miivt'ia.

The closest example we might have to what a miivt'ia is would be the concept of a friend polycule. None of the members inside a miivt'ia are exclusively platonic, familial, romantic, nor sexual with each other, but they have a tight and exclusive bond which is solely shared amongst each other. In fact, each member of the miivt'ia might feel differently about every other member of the miivt'ia and have their own, unique dynamic with every other member, but all are united in the closeness given by being members of the miivt'ia.

Miivt'ia are often formed right as a merfolk is first growing up. Family members can be included in the miivt'ia, but not always, and those included are almost always siblings, cousins, or others who are similarly close in age. Childhood friendships that begin to deepen often become a part of the miivt'ia, as are the most serious of relationships. However, miivt'ia can also be created outside of these formative years, and there are many miivt'ia that essentially act like guilds or a "family" business, being closer than mere coworkers but sharing the same job.

Miivt'ia are the people with whom a merfolk has near-constant contact with. They are expected to live together, and often will share the same job, or similar jobs. All of their personal belongings are considered as belonging to the miivt'ia over any individual, and legally the miivt'ia is the individual upon which laws apply to. A merfolk without a miivt'ia is effectively homeless, and spiritually merfolk consider the miivt'ia to be the soul. Merfolk that go through the Coral Festival (Habp'll pl'qe ane'jhe Oikahj) will go through it together with their miivt'ia. Any children the miivt'ia has or adopts is considered the child of everyone else in the miivt'ia, the members all acting as parents and considering themselves equally as responsible in the care for that child. Miivt'ia are not only expected to be constantly in contact with each other and to participate in everything together, but they are expected to care equally about every other member of the miivt'ia and to feel each other's emotions as one.

For all of this, merfolk are highly loyal to their miivt'ia and will defend the members of their miivt'ia with their life. Any threat to any other member of the miivt'ia is considered a direct threat to all other members and to the individual merfolk's lives, and the loss of any member of the miivt'ia is mourned by all others to the highest degree.

There is a lot of responsibility placed upon those included in the miivt'ia, but the miivt'ia also has an emotional closeness and intimacy that isn't shared by any other merfolk in the relationship hierarchy (except the ul'kiha, see above). Being too overtly close and intimate with a merfolk can be seen as not respecting the miivt'ia and be seen as a threat to the security of the miivt'ia. Likewise, if someone wishes to join a miivt'ia, they will often endure a "courting" phase with all the members of the miivt'ia, where they attempt to forge connections equally as close to and intimate with every other member.

Dhe'jny'p usae

If the miivt'ia was the smallest initial pattern any relationship can have in the larger weave, then the dhe'jny'p usae is the actual shape of that pattern, when something becomes not just an oval, but a petal on a flower.

Dhe'jny'p usae, in common-technical language, is closest translated to "drift family". Humans might recognize the dhe'jny'p usae as being something similar to friends. They are not as close as the miivt'ia, but they might represent the next nearest thing, being a close emotional connection with associated responsibilities. The dhe'jny'p usae would be the closest other miivt'ia to the existing miivt'ia, acting as neighbors or close-knit family. If the miivt'ia had children, then they would be expected to provide care and look after those children alongside their own, and would cycle wider, communal responsibilities with the miivt'ia. Miivt'ia and members of the miivt'ia would hang out with and spend a lot of time with their dhe'jny'p usae, and this forms the base of wider merfolk sociability.

While the dhe'jny'p usae would be excluded from the private, domestic matters of the miivt'ia, they might still be gone to for emotional reassurance, or to simply have someone to talk to. Dhe'jny'p usae are expected to help in providing food for each other, and will switch out communal duties that require a layer of intimacy with each other, and legally are considered very similar entities. While they wouldn't share all personal belongings like the miivt'ia, they might share what counts for money, and be responsible for dividing it up among themselves. Dhe'jny'p usae, likewise, might live together in larger communal houses and share chores among themselves, but this might be considered closer to the individual members of a household, and its not as intensely expected for them to live together as the miivt'ia.

Dhe'jny'p usae are likewise the most common place to find what we might think of as typical merfolk romantic relationships. Dhe'jny'p usae more easily come and go, leaving and entering a merfolk's life, not solely remaining there for life like the miivt'ia, and for that, it's not uncommon for merfolk to have romantic and sexual relationships with their dhe'jny'p usae.

Faa'nek hus'llu

If the dhe'jny'p usae were the equivalent to people living in the same house, the faa'nek hus'llu is closer to the neighbors. These are acquaintances, support-friends, those that they are close to, though they maintain a degree of separation. If the dhe'jny'p usae was a flower, then this is the daisy chain, the interlocking patterns which form a distinct function.

More than anything else, the faa'nek hus'llu can be thought of as the connective tissue. They bridge the gap between the intensely bound and closely connected dhe'jny'p usae and miivt'ia, and the wider social community of merfolk. They do not bear the brunt of the emotional responsibility and are free to come and go in any merfolk's life as they please, but there is still a degree of familiarity here, a sense of belonging. While dhe'jny'p usae might live in the same communal house, faa'nek hus'llu live in the same town, neighborhood, community. The responsibilities they bear are far more physical, often serving as shifting turns for communal guard or repair duties, ensuring that everyone gets their turn taking care of everyone else.

The downside is that faa'nek hus'llu enjoy far less emotional connection and intimacy. What is shared and offered is far more obvious and physical, and far less detailed than that which other, closer relationships would receive. They might know someone is tired, and they might know someone is in grief after losing a member of their miivt'ia, but they wouldn't be able to navigate the emotional complexity beneath that. Trying to do so can be seen as a threat, either to your own dhe'jny'p usae and miivt'ia, or to theirs, demanding familiarity which has not been earned nor received.

A'antiu Muur'l

This is the far end of any merfolk's immediate social connections. The a'antiu muur'l is not merely the knot, nor the petal, nor the flower, nor the daisy chain, but the sides of the lace itself, the largest part that fits together with all others.

This is the community as a whole. It is a town, a city, a city-block, more of a legal entity than a social one but a social one nonetheless. The a'antiu muur'l is far more location-based than the other rungs on the relationship hierarchy, and merfolk only truly change their a'antiu muur'l with a change of physical location. The a'antiu muur'l is the community from which community names are given, and the a'antiu muur'l is to the commonfolk what a royal lineage is to a royal.

The a'antiu muur'l in common-technical best translates to "song family", and to a merfolk, this is because it is intended to include everyone that a single merfolk might hear at any given time. They are strangers to the individual merfolk, sure, but they are all singing together and speaking at the same time, and working to build the same song together to flesh out life and the place in which they live, so there is a degree of emotional connection. It is abstracted emotional connection, yes, but it is emotional connection all the same.

Merfolk might even include physical landmarks as part of their a'antiu muur'l, such as in the case of their singing buildings, or for a particularly endearing local landmark. This can include a large reef, or mountain, or entire mountain range, but so too can it include the one weird shady area where all the kids hang out that the adults don't want them near.

Ghray Uw'ghta Faahl

In common-technical language, the ghray uw'ghta faahl means "all-body". It is far more theoretical than the others, being spoken of to promote a sense of universal connection, but is not something that's quite so easily envisioned in turn.

In essence, the ghray uw'ghta faahl refers to all merfolk. All of their connections, each a'antiu muur'l, each faa'nek hus'llu, each dhe'jny'p usae, each miivt'ia, and each yuu'itv. Each and every merfolk is included, down through time, because each and every merfolk has had an emotional connection, and thus each and every merfolk fits into the ghray uw'ghta faahl.

Thus, the responsibilities here are far more abstracted, and far more represent the responsibilities all merfolk have to each other. This includes their hospitality culture, yes, but far moreso it includes a sense a dignity and a need to recognize that each merfolk has someone else and belongs somewhere within the ghray uw'ghta faahl. It's a source of recognition, and of community, and of understanding.

How much it actually fulfills that role, as ever, varies, but the thought and theory and gesture is still there, all the same.

#all the care guide says is 'biomass' #monster prom #miranda vanderbilt #bellanda vanderbilt #monster camp #monster roadtrip #reposting over on this blog and polishing it up to go in the tags #god ive been putting this off for. so long. sosososo long. #the wip for this post is over a year old and ive had everything for SO much longer too #enjoy your lore you heathens #now you see why miranda has the dispossession of a traumatized parrot. now you see. #im hoping the formatting isnt rent asunder because dear LORD i hate the new post editor #its so BAD. it keeps deselecting shit or randomly deciding not to format something #hell on earth

[mariaofdoranelle]

News: Side blog aka @backtobl4ck-fics aka Maria (Polished Version)

Hey! Depending on how long we’ve known each other, you’ve probably seen me complain about Tumblr’s glitches somewhere between 100 and 1000 times.

Long story short: my tag list is leaving me high and dry, so I’ll use the side blog alongside the tag list to notify about the updates.

You can check there to see if there’s anything new without going through my unhinged reposts. It’s even safe to turn on the notifications, depending on how much you’re into reading two grown-ups fight over a slice of bread <33

Thank y’all!

@aelinchocolatelover @autumnbabylon @bookcide @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @courtofjurdan @dreamer-133 @elentiyawhitethorn @elizarikaallen @fangirlprincess09 @goddess-aelin @gracie-rosee @leiawritesstories @lululululululuop @renxzs @rowanaelinn @superspiritfestival @swankii-art-teacher @s-uppertime @tecnohourglass @thegreyj @violet-mermaid7 @wishfulimaginings

[cerenemuxse]

AAAAHHAHAHAHAAAA!! AFTER HOURS AND HOURS POURING THROUGH AO3, TAGS, AND STAIGHT UP GOOGING KEY WORDS IN THE FIC I FINALLY FOUND THAT GREAT RACE ROLE SWAP FIC!! AND I THINK I AM ON THE RIGHT TRACK TO FINDING THAT OTHER EDWARD FIC THAT WAS ON AO3 WHERE IT’S REVEALED THAT HIS ALICE AND OH CRAP MY KEYBOARD IF LAGGING BUT THERE WAS THIS ONE FIC WHERE THOMAS SEES EDWARDS OLD PICTICE AND GOES WHO’S ALICE AND I MIGHT BE ON THE RIGHT TRACK- dies

MFJAJDJ IM SO SORRY I MADE YOU GO THROUGH THAT TnT

AGH Its things like this that make me wish that I had at least updated the fics on Ao3 with info about where they would be from then on. 😭 Glad you were able to find it though! 😅 welcome to my blogs! :D

(Im still surprised that people love that fic. It was so self-indulgent that I thought people wouldn't like it or just pretend it didn't exist. I wrote it for me, myself, and i. <3 Makes me smile a lot and SUPER giddy, knowing that others are as interested in this silly self-indulgent idea as I am. Again, I'm sorry for the struggle in finding it, and I'm glad that you were able to find it in the end. 💙)

You can find the fic here, if anyone's curious as to what the ask is talking about: @tgr-2x5-roleswap-au. Pinned post has all the info you need. 🌙

As for the second fic you've mentioned, that would be "The Golden Plaques", the very first EoSR fic I posted! Unfortunately, its not up right now. I'm current reworking it. Giving it a good update so it can be up to standard as my other fics are. There are some inaccuracies going on, but the story is the same. The original post is currently private but once I have given it the polish it needs, I will make the post public and reblog it. (I kinda don't want to repost it over on the EoSR blog so I'm just using the og post. .3.)

So in short, yes, you are on the right track. :] be on the lookout for that one. Maybe i'll post it soon. 👀 with me, who knows at this point.

#my mailbox

[dearbraus]

—  Winner Takes it All

Starring; Hange Zoë

Warnings; 18+ minors dni + gn reader + submissive reader + roleplay + consensual predator/prey play + confinement + mention of injuries + collars + light degradation.

Wordcount; 0.5k

Note; Repost from my old blog, been thinking about writing more explicit roleplay scenes like this again :) enjoy <3

"Would you look at that,”

A voice says behind you, footsteps growing louder and louder as they grow near.

“The stupid puppy’s fallen right into my trap.”

Their hot breath hits the back of your neck as they crouch down to your level, nimble fingers running along the curve of your spine as you squirm in your restraints. It wasn’t hard to play the scared little lamb Hange wishes you to be, their genius and full effort put into creating this elaborate trap all so their twisted little fantasy could come to life.

The metal cuff digs into your torso, the cool feel of it making you shiver as you struggle to face Hange. Your neck aches as you try to crane it in their direction to no avail. It makes them laugh, your pathetic display too amusing. You were right where they wanted you and yet, you still thought there was some sort of fighting chance to escape their clutches. Blowing on the shell of your ear, Hange holds their stomach, their head tipping back as they chuckle at you.

“Oh dear,” Hange mutters, “Darling you’re bleeding!” they tsk, tugging at your pant leg to get a better leg of the scrape, “Well lucky for you, you won’t be needing it! Not with what I have in store for you!”

“I won’t?” you question, your hands balling up into fists by your sides, “What are you going to do to me?”

It was stupid of you to ask. You had a crystal clear picture of just what Hange was planning, before tripping and crashing onto the ground you had caught sight of the table just to the left of the contraption you were trapped in. It was line with all sorts of toys, some familiar and others far too intimidating for you to look at. Goosebumps dot along your arms as they hum thoughtfully next to you, a hand that once was considered soothing trailing up and down the length of your arm.

Popping up to their full height, Hange shrugs their shoulders, “Wouldn’t you like to know,” they say, waltzing over to the front of the room, “You’ll just have to wait and see puppy!”

Their scuffed boots enter your field of vision, their slacks stretching over their taut thighs as they crouch in front of you. In their hands lay a black collar with a polished metal ring. A tag with your name engraved into the surface clinked against another tag inscribed “Belongs to Hange”.

“Now I’m gonna free you,” they started, giving your cheek a pinch, “But you have to promise me you won’t run, it won’t be much fun playing with you if you’re all trapped like this,” Hange pouts, “So be a good little pup and stay still.”

You nod your head slowly, your eyes locking with theirs.

“I’ll be good, good for you.”

They smile brightly, their thumb smoothing over your cheek.

“I’m glad!” Hange exclaims, their eyes glinting with mischief, “You and I are going to have so much fun together puppy.”

You shudder at the sickeningly sweet tone of their voice.

“Just you wait.”

© all content belongs to dearbraus. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.

#hange zoe smut #hange zoe x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk smut #aot smut #aot x you #snk x you #hange zoe x you #cafe employee #planeto🪐 #tw:degradation #tw:collars #tw:roleplay #tw:predator//prey

[capncassas]

Syverson | A Dog Named Kevin

Summary: Your mom is coming to visit, but the new puppy keeps making messes all over the house - until you find out it isn’t the pup but the big beast himself.

Word Count: 863

Warning: Fluffy Smut, mostly all implied, still 18 +.

Please don’t repost my writing anywhere, but do feel free to like, comment and re-blog, I am a fragile bean who needs love and support. If you would like to be added to my tag list send me a message.

Tag List: @littlebirdofrivia @smile-sugar @ughdontbeboring @peachatori @daddys-littlewhitegirl

“Damn it, Kevin.” You’re trying to get the house straightened up before company comes over, that company being your mother and the new puppy can’t seem to stop messing up every single rug in the house. In between vacuuming, dusting, and polishing the furniture you walk into the kitchen and find the rug in front of the sink tossed across the room.

The rug in front of the back door is tossed askew, then the one at the back door is too.

It’s hard to stay mad at the cute little pup, that one floppy ear cocked toward you as you run around the house in what Sy calls your, ‘house cleanin’ clothes’.

It was once a navy-blue sun dress with spaghetti straps and bright yellow daises printed all over it. You’ve also outgrown it a bit since you first bought it. It used to reach your knees about five years ago when you grabbed it off the rack at Wal-Mart, now it hits your thighs and you have to hang onto the fraying hem when you bend over otherwise your whole ass is on display.

Now days the skimpy little dress is thin and faded, hugging every dip and curve of your body, it emphasizes all those sugar hills as Sy likes calling them.

“Are you kidding me?”

You’re headed back to the utility room to move clothes from the dryer and transfer another load when you see that the rug at the back door has been kicked all the way from the door to the entrance of the hallway.

Sy’s been working in the yard all day, he loves motivating that new zero-turn lawn mower he got with his income taxes around the yard.

Of course, you can’t complain, Sy shirtless doing yard work is one of your favorite things.

Just as your bending over to pick up the rug Sy opens the screen door and whistles. “Damn, baby. I’m tempted to go back out just so I can come back in just so I can see that all over again.”

Your back is to him, dress riding up the back of your thighs so the bottom of your butt cheeks visible and a little something extra. That peach he loves so much. You sigh, straightening up and tugging the dress back down. You’ve been married for five years and he can still make you blush.

“Babe, will you take Kevin for a walk or somethin? No sooner do I get somethin’ clean he’s making another mess… I know he’s just bored and needs to burn some energy off.”

Sy leans his elbow on the frame of the door, grinning. “What’s he doin’ that’s got you all in a tizzy, sweet cheeks?”

You long since stopped expecting Sy to understand the way your mind works or the way that when you clean something you need it to stay clean for longer than five minutes.

“He’s running around playing and keeps throwing the rugs all over the dad-gum house and mama’s gonna be here in an hour and I just want the house to look nice when she gets here.”

Ah yes, the infamous visit from the mother-in-law. You went into a house cleaning frenzy every time.

“Alright baby, calm down…I’ll take him for a run.” Sy said, giving a whistle and you heard Kevin start hauling it from wherever he was in the house and skid across the kitchen rug on his way to the back door.

As soon as Kevin and Sy are out of the house you straighten all the rugs and attack the kitchen floor, re-sweeping and mopping before Sy gets back with the German Shephard puppy, carrying him in his arms. It looks like he’s ready for a nap so Sy drops him off in his bed and walks back out to the kitchen finding you bent over the dining room table, polishing the wood, glancing toward the back door thinking you heard a car to see that the rug… is crooked.

“Dwight William Syverson…”

Before you can get the next set of words out, he’s behind you, gripping your hips as he pulls you back against him.

“Yes misses?”

“Did you mess up that rug?”

“I messed all of them up.”

“SY!”

He roars a laugh as you twist around to glare up at him.

“Why would you do that?”

“Cause I love watchin’ you fix’em and it makes my dick twitch when you get all riled up over things not bein’ just the way you like them.”

There’s that grin that made you fall in love with him in the first place as his hands trail around your back and grip your ass, easily lifting you up onto the dining table, leaning into you as he begins to kiss down the side of your neck. “Been thinkin’ about doin’ this to you all day.”

Gulping, your already leaking as he tugs you closer.

“Sy, mama’s gonna be here in like fifteen minutes.”

You can feel him smiling as he kisses your shoulder, sliding one of the spaghetti straps off your shoulder before he grabs his belt buckle, unfastening it.

“Then we better get started, darlin.”

#Syverson #Capt Syverson #Henry Cavill as Capt Syverson #Syverson x Reader #Reader Imagine #Mostly Fluff #Reblog

[jo-the-schmo]

Red, Dead, Reflections Ch. 1

A/N: Alright so... I started writing this fic over a year ago, and was posting it as I wrote it. I fell out of it for a few reasons but I’ve missed it. So I decided to start writing it again. The original versions of the first 5 chapters already exist on my blog but I want to repost them and do some editing. This way I can make the series more polished. I also want to try and do a once a week maybe schedule to give me some time in between writing chapters and so I can take some feedback into consideration.I hope some of the people who originally wanted to keep up with my series see this and I want to apologize for falling back on this. I feel really bad about it. I’ll try harder to commit to this. Thank you so much for being interested in my work. If anyone would like to be tagged just let me know, I don’t wanna assume the people who did before want to now. 

Summary: At the age of 23, you and your pseudo-family perform a heist gone wrong, leading you into a dangerous and seemingly impossible position. Discover your own history, the story of those around you, and gain new relationships along the way in this (sorta) choose your own adventure.

Warnings: Explicit language, blood, death, violence

Word count: 5,988

From Out West

“This is a little too ballsy for my liking, Austin.” You warned as you carefully adjusted the colored contact lenses in your eyes.

“Since when did you turn into a little pussy-willow?” He smirked at you while he turned a corner. 

“This is a bank, not a home robbery, so forgive me if I’m a tad nervous about this! We’re robbing a god damn bank in the 21st century, in a busy city that we aren’t necessarily familiar with!”

“Maybe you aren’t familiar, you know I’m a regular ol’LA boy.” You turned your head to look at the two in the backseat.

“Miguel, you can’t seriously be okay with this.” You questioned but were confident in it enough to make it a statement. He shrugged his shoulders, making that confidence literally evaporate. 

“We gotta trust Austin, as crazy as this plan is. We haven’t gotten caught yet.” You crossed you arms and made sure your wig was pinned right.

“Doesn’t mean we won’t be startin’ now.” You grumbled. 

“Come on, sissy! This plan is fool-proof! They’ll never even know it was us!” Eli chirped. 

“Oh yeah, except for the fact that this is a fucking bank and the FBI CAN get on our asses for this!” You swore it was exhausting being the only realistic one sometimes. “On top of that, there’s only 5 of us! We’re insane!” 

“6.” Austin corrected. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Your girlfriend won’t be in the damn room with us.” 

“She’s the ace up our sleeves, it would be silly for her to be in there with us.” The car smelled like old cigarettes, it made you sick. The band around your chest dug into your ribs. You opted to stay silent and relent for the time being, instead focusing on your disguise. The wig was carefully pinned to your real hair, it was short enough to be confused for a men’s haircut but had enough length to not require any glue. Dark brown hair, abnormally vibrant green eyes. And with the mask covering your face, that would be their only descriptions they could give to the police. Flat chest, boyish haircut, baggy black hoodie, just your average deviant. The destination was in view. 

“Alright,” Austin started. “everyone knows the plan, yeah? Gina is inside, she’ll send us the signal. We go in quick and make our presence known. I go behind the counter to make sure the tellers ain’t up to no funny shit. Miguel, you round up the lovely citizens into a corner, hit Gina a little to make it convincing. Eli, you take care of the money. And Y/N, I need you to stay in character, be loud and intimidating, keep the tellers in check when I’m helpin’ Eli, and the civils with Miguel, got it?” You all nodded. He looked back at Miguel. “You got the fake bomb ready?”

“Yes’ir.” 

“I’ll pass the big boss to you once I pick him out. Zoe is waiting for us in the alleyway between the bank and the office building. We get in, make some noise, scare them shitless, get the money, and go.” He parked up front of the white walls, you saw a mother walk through the glass doors with her toddler in a stroller. You immediately felt bad. 

“You promise this is the last job, right?” You looked at him seriously. “At least the last of something this big, I don’t think I could handle with again.”

“Of course! This is just to get us enough money to get us all out. The economy is garbage, think of it as taking what should already be ours.” You heard the crackle of the walkie on Austin’s lap. He threw it into his bag. “That’s the signal, masks on everyone.” Austin’s was a fox, long, fake salt and pepper hair rolled form under his hood. Eli’s was a raccoon, convincing copper bangs swooped between the ears. Miguel had an owl; disturbing blue eyes pierced your being. You strapped on your black dove and joined with group as they exited the stolen vehicle. You kept both your hands in the front pocket of your hoodie, trying to be discrete about the two handguns inside. Only one was loaded with real bullets, that was the backup, You preferred to use the blanks. Unable to trace, and when used properly, won’t hurt anyone. Austin and Eli took the leads. 

The doors were kicked in. 

“EVERYONE GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND RIGHT NOW! HANDS UP, ALL YOU! THIS IS A ROBBERY!” He screamed, pointing his gun at a man behind the counter about 3 yards away. Miguel was quick to shout at the people in line to get into the corner of the room. Gina pretended to try and defy, he slaps her, needless to say it’s convincing. 

“Dove, handle the worms.” You traded spots as Austin grabbed one of the men behind the counter. Your eyes locked with the poor woman, she was covering the stroller with her torso. You pointed your blank gun at some random person. 

“Stay on the ground or I’ll fucking shoot, ya hear me?” You lowered your voice, made it coarser, time to be a ‘man’. They nodded hysterically. The woman was crying. You could hear Eli screaming his demands in a fake accent. “Everyone hand over your phones. If any of you give me a reason to even SUSPECT you’re up to anything, I will shoot.” Everyone put their phones on the ground and slid them over toward you. You turned your attention to the back. “What’s the hold up, owl?” 

“I’m handling it.” He strapped the fake bomb to the teller’s chest, making him kneel down in the middle of the bank. “Listen up, everyone! This man has a bomb attached to his body. We have someone hacked into the security cameras. If you don’t follow our instructions to the T, they will blow a hole in this lot.” He paused to let the cries and gasps die out. “Now, for those said instructions, listen close. We will exit the building soon, you will stay down for 5 minutes.” He pointed at a clock on the wall. “Do not touch anything or move a muscle. When 5 minutes have passed, the big guy here-“ He patted the man’s shoulders and dropped a key wrapped in tissue in his lap. “will take a little drive off the premises. He will keep going until he reaches the designated location written on that tissue. If any of you contact the police before the end of the day, he will die, along with any other drivers in his vicinity. So, unless you want a substantial amount of blood on your hands, I’d suggest you keep quiet until midnight. As for the rest of you, you have permission to leave the building once that 5 minutes are up. But I would suggest keeping a low profile, for your safety and others’.” There was a loud crack. 

“I got it!” The phony Australian accent rang. Austin led the rest of the bank tellers to you, making them sit in the flood of civils. 

“Staying alert, Dove?”

“Don’t patronize me, stupid Fox.” This whole situation pissed you off. The baby was crying, mom was too, trying to hush the whines. 

“Fire a shot, Dove!” What? “Don’t let their insubordination stand.” He demanded. This was a fear tactic. He was trying to teach a lesson to the others. 

“I’m not firing a warning shot over a fucking baby, you psycho!” Your blood was boiling, this was overkill, he was way out of line with this. Of course, he wasn’t telling you to shoot the baby or the mother, but you weren’t going to cause more grief where it didn’t need to be. 

“Take the shot!”

“Fuck you!” 

“Why are you going against me?” Was he seriously doing this now? You felt like your head was going to explode. She was the only person with a child present. You put both of your pieces back in your hoodie and knelt next to her. She flinched as you approached, but that was to be expected. 

“Ma’am, I’m making an exception for you because you have a child with you, and that prick is really getting on my last nerve. You’re allowed to exit the building now, but the other rules still apply. People will die if you talk, maybe not you, but other people who have children like you do, most certainly. Take your kid and get out, don’t do anything out of the ordinary, and get out.” Her red eyes shook you to your core, familiarity. She nodded in both fear and appreciation. 

“Than-than-thank y-“ She was choking on her own misfortune, you decided to spare her. 

“Yeah, yeah, just get out.” She got up and collected herself, checking around the room as she walked out of the building. You could only see his eyes, but you could tell Austin was reaching his limit fast. An older gentleman stared at you. 

“At least one of you has a heart.” You were glad Austin was too focused on being pissed to hear that. You got up, kicking the phones toward the door as you walked. Austin grabbed you arm. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill her for that.” By letting that woman go, you showed weakness. It was a hint at your identities, but you didn’t care. 

“And you’re lucky I’m not shooting you for saying that. I’m not a killer like you, Fox.” Your voice was laced with venom. Eli had interrupted your dispute. 

“Alright lovebirds, time to play nice, we’ve got precious cargo.” He gave both of you a duffle bag, they were pretty hefty. Austin took a deep breath, putting on his best showman voice. 

“Alright folks! That right there is our cue to hit the road. Remember, 5 minutes on the clock. No one likes a-“ The doors were filled with red and blue, sirens. The police were here. “Shit!” Shit was right. “How the hell are they here?” Austin screamed. He gave you a shove. “It’s probably because of that god damn woman!” 

“There’s no way she would’ve had enough time for that.”

“And no one had a phone out, I was watching the whole time.” Miguel chimed. 

“We have bigger fish to fry right now! We gotta go.” You all dashed over to the back door, all you had to do was move towards the alley, if you could just get to the dump van, everything would be fine. Drive up to get the real car, leave that one with no prints or hair, and you’d be home free. The 4 of you booked it out the door. But the van was no where to be seen, instead, there were about 3 cops on either side which was 6 in total, trapping you in. 

“They must’ve got Zoe!” Yeah, no shit. 

“Put your hands up!” You all raised your arms, except of course for Austin. You kicked his calf. He didn’t budge. “I said put your god damn hands up!”

“In case you didn’t notice, pal, there’s a bomb in that building. If you don’t let us pass, I’ll blow that building out of existence, along with the man attached to it.” He pointed his gun to one of the cops to your left. “So, I suggest you let us through, or else you’re gonna piss me off more than I already am.” 

“We know the bomb is fake, drop to your knees or we will shoot!” Another one barked. Someone had ratted you out. You looked at Miguel and Eli, you weren’t letting this go down, not by a long shot. You tuned out Austin’s ramblings and whispered to the other two. 

“Be ready to run. I’m gonna buy you guys some time. Don’t kill any of them, disarm them.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?” Miguel questioned with panic. You took a deep breath. 

“Thank you for being my family.” You swept your leg behind Austin’s knees, and he collapsed to the ground as you stood. 

The world slowed to a crawl, pulling a gun out of your pocket, these were real bullets. You’ve never missed a target. You drew the attention of all 6 police officers, but no amount of training could prepare them. You fired 3 shots, each one hitting the hands of the officers Austin had been talking to. Their weapons fell from their hands. You felt bodies push past your legs, down the alley way away from the bank. You were glad the streets of LA were confusing. Now was the time. You whipped your body around to face the rest of the officers, firing rapidly at their shins. You weren’t gonna put blood on your hands. 

But deep down you knew, there was no making out of this one. You would buy them a few minutes while trying to subdue you. Just as your haphazard shots began, they fired precise ones of their own. Two passed through your skull, three in your chest, and one got a through almost half of your jugular. Both pieces fell away from you as gravity swaddled you. Bits of your wooden mask, blood, head pushing back unnaturally, seeing the backs of your made family run, they were almost home free. There was no pain after that point, you waited patiently for your back to hit the ground beneath you, but it never did. You kept falling. 

And falling. 

The midday light felt like it was slipping away, there were leather walls encompassing your lifeless form. No sound, no sense of texture, just the smell of dirt and decay. Then there was nothing but darkness, but that void that beckoned you, that pulled at your very being, was gone just as quick as it appeared. 

Your body shot forward with a violent intake for air. The gasps filled your lungs to the brim, your chest and head ached, throat tight. The coughing erupted from deep in your chest, which also held a different pain from the ever-tightening band around it. You threw you hoodie away and made quick work of loosening it just a bit, and in doing so noticed that your body was free of any physical wounds. There was still a soreness, and blood wiped off your skin, but there were no open wounds. You were incredibly cold, and at first you assumed that to be attributed to your near-death experience, until you looked up high to see to see an open window with snow falling outside. 

“I don’t think we’re in California anymore.” You muttered to yourself. You shivered, the place was covered in hay and in low light, that’s when the smell hit you. It reeked of animals, that would probably have something to do with the fact that you’re in a barn. Shakily, you got to your feet. Knees wobbling, your eyes adjusted, there were horses. That certainly explained the stench. A chill ran up your spine, the cold tickling at your vertebrae. You scanned the room for where you had tossed your hoodie, only to find it in a horse’s mouth. Your eyes widened in fear. “No, no, no, no, no, no!” You exclaimed. You rushed forward and grasped at the hanging sleeve, tugging on it with all your strength. “Drop it! Drop it right now!” 

The horse did not listen, in fact, now it seemed more hellbent on consuming the thick material. After hurtling a few curses at the horse, you heard a distinct rip. You fell back, the remnants of black cloth now in tatters. You let out a muffled scream of frustration. Even with the long sleeves of your cotton shirt, you were still freezing. It suddenly struck you how odd it is for it to be snowing at all. You figured you weren’t in California anymore, but you were somewhere that snows in the middle of May? How far were you? You couldn’t think of any states that snowed this late in the year. Were you in Maine? Up north, Canada? How did you even get here? 

“Did those idiots come back to get me? I could’ve sworn…” You could’ve sworn they ran like you told them to, and that you had experienced several fatal injuries. Is this hell? Purgatory? The other side? It was cold enough to be Hell that’s for sure. Nothing made sense. You found your mask on the ground, chunks of the painted wood were replaced with vacant space, splintered bullet holes. You fastened it to the first belt loop, it rested against your left pant leg. Pins dug into your scalp, wigs still surprisingly attached to your head. Your eyes watered, your contacts were drying out. You opted take them out now rather than waste your time trying to find drops in a barn. You flicked them away once they were out. “Now, if there’s a barn with animals, there’s gotta be a house with people.” You walked over to the large wooden doors as your talked to yourself, but today just had to be the worst day of your life. Something landed on top of you, or more accurately someone. 

You were surprised you didn’t feel any cracks as the weight crashed on you. Shifting your weight over, you elbowed the man in the jaw. He rolled off of you with a grunt of pain. You were quick to jab him in the stomach with the toe of your boot. Sputtering a cough with saliva dripping out the mouth, the man rushed to stand. He was trying to fight. 

“You’re on the wrong side of the mountains, partn’r.” He slurred. “This here is O’Driscoll territory, Which you don’t got no business bein’ in.” I’m in the mountains? Where the hell- He didn’t give you enough time to finish that thought before he was throwing a punch at you. If this basic boy thinks he can step in my personal space, he’s got another thing coming. You blocked the fist with your forearm and redirected the force toward the ground. With the base of your wrist, you hit his throat. The force of your own strength and the ever so impeccable sense of gravity caused him to wheeze, choke, and writhe on the ground. 

“Listen here, buddy,” you pressed your boot down on his chest “I have no idea where the hell I am right now. I don’t give a single shit about territory or whatever the fuck you’re going on about, but if you put your hands on me again, I’m gonna mangle your entire lower half with a rake.” You applied more weight. “I didn’t come here of my own volition, someone put me here. Which means, you’re little punk ass better tell me what’s going on or get out of my way so I can-“ Gunshots. Mystery man took your distraction as an opportunity to wriggle out form under you. They were ceaseless, did someone drop you off in the middle of a gang war, what the hell is going on? You were about to duck behind whatever cover was around you if the idiot of the room had decided he didn’t learn his lesson. 

“Are you with those crazies?” He yelled, peeking out the barn doors for only a second. “I should’ve known.” His voice was cold and malicious. “You’re with that son of a bitch, Dutch!”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, pretty boy, they must’ve sent you up to spy on us! I’m gonna kill you for-“

“I literally have no idea what’s going on!” But he wasn’t listening to reason, clocked you in the ribs before you got the chance to block, then using your surprise to his advantage, hit you on the nose. There was a familiar crack and blood rush. “Did you just fucking break my nose, you ass?” You screeched toward the ground, wiping away the blood. 

You took him off guard by doing that, so you were quick to knock him in the jaw. The shooting stopped but you were a little preoccupied and decided not to waste anymore time. His arm bent to caress the side of his face. You rushed forward, lacing your arm between the gap his made. Using all your weight, you swung your legs out and forced him to drop to the ground. His back slammed forcefully and with a swift adjustment, your shins trapped his neck, locking him in place. You squeezed his neck enough to make him gasp. He tried to push away from you, but with the position you left him in, there’s no way he’d be able to without some sort of outside assistance. 

“Who are you calling pretty boy now? Huh? Who, bitch boy?” You heard the door start to open, you let lose and pulled the man up to shield you, locking his head so that you peek between a gap in your arm and his head. A man wearing a blue coat and hat walked in, his hands resting on his belt. 

“Well, well, what have we got ourselves here?” You couldn’t quite place his accent. You noticed he had a holster. 

“Don’t fuck with me, dude. I’ve got your friend trapped between me and you. No need to make this get crazy.” You warned, tightening your grip to enunciate your point. What sounded almost like a chuckle escaped his throat. 

“You must not be an O’Driscoll if you think he’s my friend.” You panicked, you tried to think of your next move, but he had plans of his own. “What’s your name, son?” Your suspicions were correct, it seems. This isn’t the first time someone’s confused you for a man, especially when you were trying so hard to not look like yourself. But maybe, you could use this to your advantage. 

“James West.” That was Austin’s code name for danger. If someone introduced you or called any of you James, it meant they weren’t trust worthy. You and Gina would usually use Jamie, but now James felt like the safer option. 

“Now how in the hell did you get involved in this, West?” He rested his hip against one of the stable posts.  

“I have no idea.” You threw the man away from you, there was no point holding him anymore. “I woke up here, and this guy just started attacking me.” You thought for a moment. “Are you Dutch?” You asked. This time, it was a single, hearty-

“HA!” He had a spark in his eye. “Me? Dutch? I ain’t that old yet, kid.” You rolled your eyes and pulled yourself up. 

“Well, my nose is broken because this little shit thought I was with you, so I have some choice words for this ‘Dutch’.” You huffed. “And don’t call me ‘kid’.” You brushed your fingers across the bridge of your nose, preparing yourself for what you were about to do. One deep breath in, out, pop. You pushed your nose back into place and winced. A wad of blood shot out. “Jesus shit!” You coughed, you never get used to having to do that. The blue coat cowboy looking mother-fucker looked semi-impressed. 

“Well, I’m not Dutch, but you could sure meet him if it pleases.” Something caught his attention. “Speak of the devil…” The door opened again. A man walked in with very distinct black hair. He was also a cowboy looking mother-fucker. Oh god, am I in yeeyee country? His eyes immediately locked on you. 

“Did you cause this mess, Arthur? Or have we just met a new friend?” The man who you presumed to be Dutch, had a deeper voice than the man apparently called Arthur, but their accents were similar. That was not promising for you. 

“That depends, his name is West, James West. I walked in a right fine mess between him and that there O’Driscoll.” Arthur pointed to the man still struggling to steady himself. Dutch choked a deep laugh, he seemed more amused than Arthur was. 

“Right fine is right, Arthur. You did this?” He asked. You nodded reluctantly. “You’re a good fighter, boy. Real good, it seems.” He strode over to the guy on the floor and picked him up by the collar, tossing him over to Arthur. “Morgan, you deal with this trash while I talk to our new pal.” Dutch walked over to you, confidence in his step, while Arthur threw the man back on the ground. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and shook you around a bit. “James West, huh?”

“Yeah, what’s it to ya?” 

“Oh, this boy’s got spunk, Morgan!” You looked over and saw Arthur yanking the man around by the shirt. Dutch forced your attention back to him. “Now West, you’ve gotta understand our position here. We can tell clear as day you ain’t involved in a lick of this mess. But we don’t have a single clue as to what your business is up here. Now, you seem like a considerate young man, but I got worried folks on this mountain, and I can’t have no scamps running around and hellraising” He squeezed your shoulder. “So, don’t take any offense to what I’m about to ask, but what are you doing up here?” He looked you dead in the eyes. In your opinion, the question was fair. You couldn’t fully let your guard down, but they appeared to not be whoever put you here. Then again, these O’Driscoll’s didn’t seem to be either. 

“I can’t give you an answer to that one, Mr. …?” 

“Van Der Linde.” That’s one hell of a name. 

“Mr. Van Der Linde. Frankly, I have no damn clue why I’m here. One minute, I’m getting shot down in the middle of the day, and then I wake up trapped in some barn in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, in what looks like the ass end of winter. So, I’m a little confused right now to say the least.” You were clearly frustrated with your situation, he wasn’t oblivious to it. 

“Where are you from, son?”

“California.” That was a safe enough answer. 

“James West from out West. That’s certainly an opener.” He scratched his chin. “I’m gonna put you to a test young man.” He turned you around and lead you over to where Arthur had just gotten off the now bloody man. He was whimpering, begging under his breath for mercy. 

“I don’t think he’s got much to say, Dutch. They apparently happened upon this place and took it over. That’s all I’m getting’” 

“I’m going to give our new young friend a choice.” He pulled a revolver out of his holster and held the handle out to you. “In normal circumstances, I’d let Arthur handle this situation himself. But I’ve got an itching curiosity with you, kid.” You felt obligated to hold it in your hand. Looking down at the man, pity flared in your chest. “Should we kill him, or let him go? I’m letting you make the call.” What kind of question was this? Who were these guys? The choice wasn’t very difficult, you’d be a hypocrite if you did otherwise, and you weren’t compromising your promise on the off chance these guys might not like your opinion. 

You handed the gun back to Dutch. 

“Just because he’s an asshole, doesn’t mean he deserves to die. Let him go.” Dutch was intrigued by your answer. He looked over to Arthur with a smirk.

“I think I like kid!” 

“Please don’t call me ‘kid.” You requested. Arthur pulled the man to his feet and threw him outside.

“Get outta here before he regrets it.” The man darted into the snow, leaving a trail behind him. 

“Grab the horse, Arthur. We gotta get something out of this.”  You were lead outside to find a horrific scene, bodies were strewn about the snowy landscape. Whoever these guys were, they were not to be trifled with. You should play this safe. 

There was a house not too far away, the snow was dense. It was more than freezing. You sent a glare to the horse Arthur led past you. You’ll pay for this, you dumb fucking horse. With your adrenaline dying down, your whole being felt frozen. 

“Normally, I wouldn’t be one for disrupting dead for anything other than money, but you’ll die out here without something warm, Mr. West.” Dutch gestured to one of the several bodies riddled through the snow. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying your best not to think about how you were robbing from dead people. It wouldn’t be the first time, but you still didn’t feel good about it. You separated from him and carefully stepped around the bodies littered in the snow. You found a man with his face in the snow, you pretty much picked him so you wouldn’t have to see his face as you stripped him of his coat. It didn’t look particularly warm initially, but anything would be better than this. The arms bent limply back as you peeled the sleeves away. Luckily upon further inspection, you were happy to learn there was a sort of wool lining inside, that would at least help insulate your own body heat. A sudden commotion broke out from inside the rustic home. A man yelling for Dutch and a woman screaming. Your instincts made you spring into action, you lept through large portions of the snow to make it to the steps faster and before you knew it you were bursting through the door. A blonde man wearing another cowboy-looking hat was chasing a woman around a table. 

“What the hell are you doing, Micah?” Arthur questioned as him and Dutch followed you in. 

“We got a feisty one over here, boys!” He hollered. Oh, you were not comfortable with this type of language.

“Stop chasing the poor woman, ya moron!” He warned with more intensity. You weren’t gonna see this go down, that’s for sure. You ran up behind the man called Micah, grabbed his collar, and used his weight to pull his back towards you, and then to the ground. His body slammed, he let out a surprised yelp, followed by a pained groan.

“Fucking sicko! Stop chasing her around, she’s scared!” 

“Get out of my house!” The woman bellowed. Admittedly, you had no idea what was going on, but you knew you could at least try and defuse the situation. You put your hands up to appear less threatening. 

“Miss, I don’t know who you are or what in God’s name is going on, but I promise I am not here to hurt you.” You spoke to her in a calm voice. Whatever was going on, it clearly had her frazzled. “I don’t have any weapons, and I don’t make it habit of hurting people who don’t need hurting. You clearly have been hurting for no reason. Can you explain to me what’s happened so that I can help you with this situation?” You took a cautious step around the table to make sure she wouldn’t dart away from you, you kept steady eye contact. 

“They…they killed my husband a few days ago! They took over my home and locked me in the basement!” She wept. Maybe these O’Driscolls were the ones to stow you in the barn, they sure seemed like the type with this new information. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss, ma’am. I can assure you that those men won’t be bothering you anytime soon. Can you-“ You heard glass shatter, looking over, you found Micah scattering to his feet, fire was spreading from the floor to the wall at an incredible rate. It was already crawling up the right-side wall before you had a chance to react. There was no way you could put that out by yourself, and the others weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to help you. You settled on running to grab some blankets from the bed across the room. The boys were leading the woman out of the house and she reluctantly followed. Micah sent you a glare as you passed him out of the house. “Oh, don’t you look at me like that, you weren’t any help!” You knew you should keep your mouth shut, but you knew you were right on this one. The group was walking toward some horses, you followed behind. 

“Micah, lead the horse back to camp.” You handed the blankets to the woman. 

“Thank you.” She seemed genuine but was also hurt by your sentiments.

“It’s no problem, ma’am.”

“Adler, Sadie Adler is my name.” She wrapped herself in the blankets.

“Well, it’s no problem, Mrs. Adler. It’s the bare minimum to what I could’ve done.” You hoped whatever camp Dutch mentioned was close by. This cold was blistering. 

“Mrs. Adler, you may ride with me, we’ll get you back to people who can help.” Dutch hopped up onto a white horse, lending a hand for Sadie to pull herself up. “Arthur, please take our new friend with you. I don’t think he’s in any shape to be riding.” Arthur nodded, heaving himself with ease onto a spotted mare? You couldn’t tell if it was a girl, but you just got that vibe. He did not give you a hand. Oh yeah, I’m a dude. A manly man. You gripped the back of the saddle and used all the arm strength you had to get onto the bare back on the horse. You hoped this ride wasn’t going to be too bumpy because you were not about to get punched because you had to grab onto this man and couldn’t tell if someone was a homophobe or not. You sure hoped these people weren’t, but you weren’t exactly in the position to be picky. 

“Pearson’s not gonna happy about this.” Arthur mentioned as the horses pushed forward.

“Mr. Pearson isn’t happy about anything except his drink. He’ll be alright.” Now seemed like a good a time as any to start asking questions. They couldn’t go anywhere away from you at the moment. 

“Not to interrupt or anything, but could someone tell me where I am, or what day it is. Could someone please tell me what the deal is?”

“We’re north of New Hanover if the maps are correct. We’re planning to head down there as soon as this winter passes. God knows how long that’s gonna take.” Dutch complained. You had never heard of New Hanover, but apparently it was winter. Maybe you really did get shot, put into a hospital maybe? Then these guys… You panicked for a second. O’Driscoll wasn’t another name for them was it? It didn’t make much sense but no one else would put this much effort into stealing you away. “As for the day, I couldn’t tell ya exactly. It’s winter in the year of our Lord 1899.” He laughed. What?

“What?”

“Ah, just bit of a joke, son. We live in dark times. We’re hurtling straight into a new century.” Wait was he joking or not joking?

“It’s 1899?” You tried to keep your voice neutral, but he seemed to pick up on your worry.

“Yes, it is, son.” He paused. “Are you alright?” You were anything but alright. These people are crazy, I’m trapped on a mountain with some insane cultists who think they’re in the 19th century, I’m fucked. “Arthur, we need to hurry, the boy’s looking pale.” 

Your head felt fuzzy, colors were blurring together. I am not stuck on a god damn mountain in 1899, I’m not, that’s physically impossible. This is all a dream, or some weird set up. You felt like you were 19 again, disconnected, afraid, losing it. You weren’t gonna go back there again, you wouldn’t! You didn’t know you had stopped breathing. You didn’t feel Arthur’s arm catching you so you wouldn’t get trampled. Everything was black. 

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan #Dutch Van Der Linde #time travel au #red dead redemption 2 #Javier Escuella #Charles Smith #John Marston #sadie adler #mary-beth gaskill #hosea matthews #abigail marston #lenny summers #too many tags

[tumbleweed-palmer]

Unexpected: Jimmy Palmer x Original Character

I am having to repost all my fics because tumblr terminated my old blog. So here we go spamming up the Jimmy Palmer tag.

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Jimmy Palmer could admit he’d never found himself too annoyed by Tony Dinozzo. In fact, Jimmy was usually capable of dealing with Tony’s less than mature behavior without becoming too frustrated or too flustered.

Jimmy had long ago learned to take Tony’s immature comments and his habit of being far too nosy about his coworker’s personal lives with good stride. He’d learned to brush off the comments and the jokes. To be honest, Jimmy had always been somewhat fond of Tony’s tendency to give him a hard time.

It felt more like the actions of an older brother pestering a younger sibling, than anyone with any ill intentions. Jimmy had no older siblings, only a younger sister. So, really it just felt like Tony was a big brother of sorts, giving Jimmy a hard time and harassing him because he cared. Jimmy knew the moniker of “Autopsy Gremlin” or the sarcastic comments and jokes weren’t meant to be cruel. He knew that deep down Tony didn’t mean any disrespect.

Lately though it was becoming harder and harder for Jimmy to brush off Tony’s comments and his bad habit of attempting to shove his nose where it didn’t belong.

Today had been particularly brutal, all thanks to an unfortunately noticeable dark bruise along Jimmy’s neck. Anyone with any social awareness would easily be able to deduce exactly just how Jimmy had gotten these marks along his neck. Most people would spot a bruise along someone’s neck and would know it meant one thing and one thing only.

Most people though wouldn’t have the audacity to mention it. Tony Dinozzo wasn’t most people.

Tony had been quite loud about pointing out the large hickey along Jimmy’s neck and he’d done it at a crime scene of all the places to possibly bring it up.

Jimmy’s cheeks had flushed a deep shade of scarlet as Tony had spotted the hickey unable to resist himself. “Jeez Palmer, what happened to you? Did you use a vacuum cleaner or did you manage to actually find a lady gremlin to do that for you? That thing is huge. I don’t know if I should be disgusted or impressed. I’m dying to know just where she learned to do that, because I’m assuming you didn’t teach her.”

Jimmy had resisted the urge to drown himself in the lake Dr. Mallard and he’d been retrieving a body from as he’d squeaked out an “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Though by the way Jimmy had pulled the collar of his jumpsuit up in a poor attempt to hide the lovebite along his neck, it had been quite obvious to everyone that Jimmy knew exactly what Tony was talking about.

Thankfully Tony had dropped the subject fast becoming distracted by Gibbs’ less than pleased expression, but the entire situation had still been so mortifying.

This wasn’t the first time anyone had spotted a little lovebite along Jimmy’s neck over the course of the past year, and it wasn’t the first time Tony had something to say about it. It was still none the less absolutely horrifying for Jimmy.

Each time Tony mentioned a lovebite along Jimmy’s neck, Jimmy died a little inside.

As the day had worn on so had Tony’s prodding and needless to say Jimmy was more than ready to get far far away from NCIS headquarters and he hoped and prayed he’d have the entire weekend to suppress the memory of any of this ever happening.

Jimmy had worked far too late for a Friday night and he was more than ready to get out of the building as Tony approached him at the elevator looking all too much like a shark that had spotted a pool of blood.

“In a rush to get home Palmer?”

Jimmy cleared his throat trying to pretend that he wasn’t frantically pushing the up button on the elevator as though that would make his only form of escape arrive any quicker. “It’s Friday.”

“Got big plans for the weekend? I’ve always been curious, just what does an Autopsy Gremlin do on the weekend? I’m almost afraid to ask.” Tony commented, working his way up to the main punchline.

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders trying to play it cool. “Just a quiet weekend, nothing exciting.”

“Nothing exciting huh? I hope whoever gave you that little lovebite on your neck isn’t disappointed to hear that you don’t think they were exciting. I’m a little worried about just what you consider exciting if you didn’t find the process of getting that thing to be thrilling.” Tony pointed out while watching Jimmy squirm.

Jimmy groaned at this trying his best to play dumb in hopes this conversation would die. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh.” Tony responded not shying away from giving Jimmy a pat on the back before he spoke again.

It’s nothing to be ashamed of Palmer, It’s only a little gross when I think about it. I’m actually kind of impressed. You did the impossible, you got a girl to do that for you and it’s not even the first time it’s happened. You can’t blame me for being curious. The Autopsy Gremlin is getting some sweet sweet loving and I have to know just what she looks like, it is a she right? If not, I don’t judge. I would just be surprised to find you swing that way, especially after the whole Agent Lee thing. Are you having an office romance again? I’m guessing not, since I haven’t noticed you getting any attention from any of the ladies at NCIS, which means that Lady Gremlin doesn’t work here.”

Jimmy let out a sigh of relief as the elevator doors finally swung open, Jimmy escaping into the safe confines of the elevator so relieved that Tony didn’t follow him.

He spoke frantically pushing the close door button. “I gotta go, have a good weekend Tony.”

Jimmy closed his eyes, a heavy sigh of relief leaving him as he was finally left alone safe from Tony until next week.

A little voice in the back of his head was all too quick to speak Oh, if Tony only knew.

Jimmy had never meant for it to be like this. He’d never been the best at lying. Or, at least people told him he was a bad liar.

Maybe he wasn’t such a bad liar though, after all he’d been living a lie at work for a year now. He’d been lying to his coworkers for so long that his lies felt like truths at this point.

Jimmy’s personal life had become a well kept secret from the vast majority of his coworkers and Jimmy knew if the truth came out then Tony Dinozzo would kill him.

Jimmy had to believe though that the risk of death was well worth it. Olivia Dinozzo was so worth the risk of imminent death.

He hadn’t known exactly who she was when they’d first met on this elevator only a year before.

Olivia, or Liv as she preferred to be called had kind of stuck out like a sore thumb at NCIS headquarters.

They had met in the most unassuming of ways. The elevator had stopped at the first floor and Liv had stepped on wearing a visitors badge.

Jimmy had been hers in an instant and she hadn’t even known it. He’d glanced over at her and he couldn’t look away.  

The thin straps of the deep purple dress she’d been wearing hadn’t done a thing to hide her figure, at least when it came to cleavage.  The dress’ paisley print and loose flowing fabric had made her look more like she should be hanging out at a farmers market or making flower crowns in a field somewhere and not standing in a tiny elevator with a flustered Jimmy Palmer.

He’d been able to spot heavy looking turquoise earrings even through the thick strands of her long dark hair. The silver bangles on her wrist and the heavy gem ring on her finger had only made her look more like a freespirit and less like someone that should be visiting NCIS headquarters.

Her nails were kept trimmed and neat and painted with a dark blue polish. Her makeup was kept minimal with only a dusty pink lipstick on her lips. Her skin looked soft and milky and she smelled like a mixture of lavender and patchouli. A year later Jimmy would begin to associate the smell with her and the warmth he felt anytime she was close to him.  From their very first meeting he'd been just as captivated by that scent though.

Jimmy didn’t think anyone could blame him for admiring her. She was a gorgeous woman and Jimmy was a young single man with a pulse. He was going to notice a pretty girl standing so close to him on an elevator.

She honestly did take his breath away. It was her eyes that had really done it, those big blue eyes that had made him melt and made her almost resemble a little doll. She was a petite thing really, the top of her head reaching his chest. He was pretty sure he’d easily be able to rest his chin on top of her head if she were to stand cradled against him. She seemed so delicate. There was something about her that had made Jimmy want to wrap himself around her and protect her.

She would later explain to him that she’d actually done ballet as a child and had been pretty gifted until she’d torn a tendon in her ankle that killed her ballet career. Her petite stature had caused people to push her towards ballet insisting her body was suited for it. To her credit she had managed to become a talented dancer although she didn't think being petite had aided into that. She did joke puberty and the development of curves had hindered her career long before she’d screwed up her ankle. He could remember her comment “I already had being on the short side working against me, then I got boobs and a butt and I decided I better start turning my attention to painting and photography instead of dance. I got the impression that my career was over long before I messed up my ankle. People were pretty fast to tell me that my body wasn't so suited for dance after I hit puberty hard. My ankle injury gave me an excuse to change my path.”

Jimmy had clung onto that story just as eagerly as he’d clung on to every other word she’d ever said to him over the past year.

Although back then standing in that elevator heading up to the fourth floor, Jimmy would have found it unimaginable to even believe for a second that he would ever have the opportunity to cling on to every word she said.

To say that he was attracted to her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her would be a vast understatement.

She of course had noticed he was staring and she hadn’t been shy to turn her head to face him raising a well manicured eyebrow questioning his obvious gawking.

Jimmy had managed to work the words from his throat, automatically thinking he felt like a moron at his choice in words. “Visiting?”

He’d almost wished he could toss himself down the elevator shaft at the realization of the words that had left him. A voice in the back of his head had been so quick to taunt him “Way to sound nosy and accusatory. You might as well have yelled: you don’t belong here. Nice going, she probably thinks you’re a classist asshole. She has a visitors badge clipped to her dress of course she’s visiting, not that it’s any of your business.’’

Much to his shock and disbelief she hadn’t taken his comment as him being rude. Instead she’d given him a sweet little smile that had made him all the more hers. “Yes, is it really that obvious? I’m actually making a surprise visit to my brother. He’s not expecting me until next week. I’m just hoping he’s not too busy. I know his schedule is a little odd. It’s just been a while since I last saw him. So I thought I’d surprise him at work.”

She’d paused raising an eyebrow at Jimmy’s usual work uniform of pale blue scrubs. She spoke up before Jimmy had a chance to ask about her brother. “Do you work here?”

Jimmy felt the words leave him ignoring the voice that told him he was babbling like an idiot and stumbling over his own words. “Yes, I uh...I w-work in Autopsy actually. I’m the assistant medical examiner….I’m still in school so I can’t really call myself a medical examiner until I pass my licensing exam. So, for now I-I’m just assisting our lead medical examiner Dr. Mallard. I’m usually down there in the basement. I just, I was coming upstairs to use the vending machines in the breakroom on the fourth floor. The vending machine in the basement always steals my dollars and I uh, I thought a soda sounded better than instant coffee.I had an early morning with a body pickup...so, uh, yeah...I-I work here.”

He bit the inside of his cheek to shut himself up knowing he was giving her far more information than she ever asked for. Why was he such an oversharer? He’d always been like this. He could get anxious and he’d find himself unable to stop talking. He never knew how to just sit quietly with his own thoughts.

He was stunned that she didn’t shut down the conversation at the mention of autopsy or a body pickup. Though her eyes did grow a little wide at the concept of just what he did for a living. Much to his shock she spoke the sweet smile not straying from her lips even though it had weakened just a bit as she took in his comments. “Oh, instant coffee is the worst.”

He parted his lips wanting to say something more, anything to keep her talking to him. He wanted to ask her about her brother or hell even ask her for her name.

All of his questions were answered as the elevator stopped at the fourth floor and both Jimmy and his companion stepped out into the passageway.

Jimmy watched stunned as the young woman he’d been so shamelessly admiring tackled the last person Jimmy had ever been expecting into a tight hug.

Ziva and McGee watched just as stunned as Jimmy as Tony lifted the girl from the ground, a foreign look of paternal adoration crossing Tony’s features. The girl giggled clearly accustomed to this type of treatment.

Tony spoke still holding her up ignoring his gawking coworkers. “I thought you weren’t coming until next week?”

She spoke as he finally placed her back on the ground, she straightening out her dress and her purse. “I found an earlier flight for much cheaper. I had demote down from first class but I didn’t mind. Pretzels and soda are just as good as pretzels and champagne even if the seats were a little smaller and I didn’t have as much leg room. My suitcases are downstairs in my rental car and the rest of my belongings are still due to arrive next week unless the movers really screw something up. I’ve already signed the lease on my apartment but I’ve got a hotel in the meantime.”

“You don’t have to stay in a hotel. I have a sofa.” Tony insisted a laugh leaving her as she rolled her eyes clearly resistant to this offer.

“The last time I slept on your futon I had sore hips for days. I think I prefer an actual bed and room service over a futon and cold pizza which I would have to pick all the meat off of in hopes I don’t get sick.” She remarked Tony letting out a scoff at the comment.

He cleared his throat finally noticing they had an audience. He spoke nodding down to her and to Ziva and McGee. “Probie, Ziva, this is my little sister Olivia Dinozzo.”

“Liv, please. Everyone calls me Liv.” She insisted giving a small wave.

“I did not realize you have a sister Tony.” Ziva admitted Mcgee fast to speak up, confirming. “Yeah, you’ve never mentioned it. I thought you were an only child.”

Liv spoke explaining everything. “I’m his half sister. Same dad, So, both progeny of Dinozzo Senior. My mother was his second wife, but not for more than two years. I was a bit of a surprise baby, Tony was already out of the house for most of my childhood. I’ve been living across the country for a few years now and before that I wasn’t even in the United States. I’m a freelance photographer and I’ve done a lot of photography for travel magazines and brochures so I’ve always been on the move. I’ve recently been hired for a teaching position at a community center though, so I’ve settled into the area.”

Tony finally took notice of Jimmy’s presence, taking notice that the young man was still gawking at events that had just taken place. “Autopsy Gremlin, who let you out of the basement? Shoo, get out of here. Don’t make me get a spray bottle after you again.”

Jimmy felt his cheeks flush, he hating that little nickname for the first time ever. Liv thankfully didn’t seem amused by the comment, rolling her eyes giving her brother a nudge as she spoke to Ziva, McGee, and Jimmy. “I am so sorry you all have to work with my brother.”

No one had a chance to respond as Tony spoke, shoving the files he’d been holding all too roughly into McGee’s arms. “Be nice, I'm buying your lunch. I’ll even find a place that serves tofu and lettuce.”

She let out a huff apparently well versed in this conversation. “Just because I’m a vegetarian doesn’t mean my entire diet only consists of tofu and lettuce.”

Jimmy watched hopelessly as Liv left following along behind Tony towards the elevators not giving Jimmy a second glance.

This was just his luck, he’d met a beautiful woman who hadn’t minded his awkward babbling, only to discover she was essentially untouchable.

He felt foolish for even having the thought. Who was to say she’d ever willingly allow him to touch her?

She was so far out of his league that it wasn’t even funny. Besides who was to say he’d ever see her again even if she had mentioned settling down into the area. The Virginia DC area wasn’t tiny, so chances are he’d never see her again.

Maybe Jimmy had just been single for too long now? Dating in combination with his odd career path and the time his schooling demanded wasn’t easy. He’d had more unsuccessful dates than he’d ever admit to, and his last relationship had been less of a relationship and more of a string of hooking up with one another in secret. It had been months since his last relationship had ended. He had been the one who’d ended that relationship admitting he’d wanted more from a romantic partner than the physical aspect of it. He’d had poor luck in actually finding a relationship though.

He’d begun to feel lonelier than he’d ever admit. He was starting to consider possibly giving online dating a try, but it seemed impossible with his erratic schedule and his less than conventional career path.

A small part of him was beginning to lose hope that he’d actually find anyone who would be willing to put up with him.

He told himself he was an idiot for feeling so disappointed that Liv was so unattainable. Pursuing her would never work. Jimmy had a distinct feeling that if he ever dared to even give Liv a flirty smile that Tony would bury him so deep into the ground that the devil himself would need a shovel to dig Jimmy back out again.

It was a lost hopeless cause.

It just wasn’t meant to be.

Much to Jimmy’s surprise though, fate had seemed to decide that it was in fact meant to be.

It had been two weeks since their meeting when fate had seemed to drag them back together.

Jimmy had been enjoying a rare leisurely day at the park enjoying a book and a sandwich he’d gotten from a nearby deli and taking in a nice spring day. He’d barely gotten more than a few bites of his lunch when a rather large dog had come out from nowhere snatching his BLT right from his hands and chomping it down.

He’d been stunned at this turn of events and that dumbstruck feeling had only intensified as a familiar voice sounded out. “Seriously? Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Jimmy had stared dumbfounded as Liv Dinozzo approached him her face flushed and her breathing heavy a sheen of sweat cross her skin. It was clear she’d been running after the dog for a long while now.

She spoke her voice frantic, barely even having the courage to look him in the eyes. This entire situation was beyond awkward. “I am so so so sorry. I was trying to adjust his leash and he worked his way free. He’s not even my dog. I was just walking him as a favor for my neighbor and if I’d known he’d do this I wouldn’t have offered. I’m just new in the area and I thought I’d win some points with my neighbor, since her arm is broken, by offering to walk her dog.”

She paused, finally meeting his gaze, a look of recognition crossing her features. “Wait...I know you. You, uh, you work with my brother right? I didn’t catch your name? We met on the elevator. Please don’t tell me I’m completely wrong about that. I think we’ve met before, right? I really don’t want to make this entire situation all more mortifying.”

He spoke trying not to cringe as the dog licked his hand soaking it clearly searching for another snack. “I, uh, yeah we met. Liv right? Tony didn’t introduce us properly. I’m James Palmer, but uh...everyone calls me Jimmy.”

He cringed even more, counting his blessings that she hadn’t brought up the name Tony had called him Autopsy Gremlin.

She spoke, clearing her throat shifting in place still feeling so horribly embarrassed. “I wish I could say we were meeting again under better circumstances. I can’t begin to express how sorry I am. Please let me make it up to you. I can buy you lunch. Anything you want to eat. Have lunch with me as a way to make up for this all.”

Jimmy felt his heart pound in his chest. She wanted to have lunch with him. Was this real life? He spoke nodding his head frantically. “Okay. I-uh, do you need help with the leash. I may be able to help. I worked as a veterinary tech during a summer in college.”

She handed over the leather leash Jimmy not helping but to appreciate just how silken her skin truly was as her fingertips brushed his.

He’d somehow lived up to his offer to get the leash on thanking his upper body strength as he helped her corral the dog to her car.

He’d tried not to gawk when they’d returned to dog to the brownstone she lived in. It was clear as day that her property was far nicer than Jimmy’s own. It made sense though he guessed, didn’t the Dinozzo’s come from old money? Tony might have been cut off from the family fortune but Liv clearly was not.

If she’d noticed his gawking she’d not mentioned it. To be honest, she’d seemed relieved that he hadn’t brought it up, nor had he mentioned it when she’d insisted on taking him a more expensive bistro than he’d usually eat at.

Much to his surprise and relief talking to Liv Dinozzo had actually felt easy the longer their lunch had lasted, even with his occasional tendency to be a little awkward. She hadn’t seemed to mind that he talked far too much and got far too enthusiastic. If anything she’d found his enthusiasm kind of sweet.

It had been so easy to talk to her that he’d taken a chance and asked to have lunch with her again or maybe dinner with him paying this time.

Much to his shock she’d said yes.

It had become a routine, spending time together. They’d spent months spending quite a bit of time together, going to lunches and dinners and museums and walks through the park.

It was a friendship really and Liv seemed oblivious of Jimmy’s more amorous feelings towards her. Or at least it seemed to Jimmy that she was blind to the fact that he clearly saw her as more than just a new friend.

Jimmy had been incapable of hiding it forever though.

It had started out so innocent. It had been a nice spring day and they’d taken a risk leaving the park and walking a few blocks to an ice cream parlor to cool down.

As they’d been leaving the ice cream parlor a spring storm had hit and they’d gotten caught in the downpour. They’d run the rain soaking them both until they’d found sanctuary under the awning of a building for lease.

Jimmy couldn’t help it. They’d been standing so close to one another the sound of rain hitting the cloth awning above them the scent of rain in the air.  He’d looked down at her and she’d been staring up at him and before he’d known it his lips had been pressed to hers.

He’d barely had the mind to even comprehend as she eagerly returned the passion of his kiss, his insecurities far too loud to ignore.

He’d spoken frantically babbling so sure he’d ruined everything. “I am so sorry. I have really screwed this all up. I should have never done that. I did that without even asking you for your consent. I know you aren’t romantically interested in me at all. I understand that you don’t feel the same way about me as I feel about you, and I’m mature enough to accept rejection. I’m just begging you to please not let my lack of judgement ruin any chance of friendship. I swear that will never happ…”

He didn’t have a chance to keep rambling as Liv did the only thing she could think to do to stop him. She placed a hand over his mouth, the action gentle but firm. “Jimmy slow down for a moment and breathe.”

She pulled her hand back after he nodded his head signaling that he understood. The words that left her made his jaw drop. “Why do you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”

Was she being serious? Was this some kind of cruel joke? Was this an attempt to really make it clear she was rejecting him? Did she want him to give her the reason she wouldn’t be interested in him just to make sure he understood why and wouldn’t pull this ever again?

Surely she wasn’t that cruel. He didn’t think she was cruel at all. She didn’t seem cruel enough to force him to vocalize the cold harsh truth like this.

He spoke his shoulders sagging, his brows furrowed, the answer seeming so obvious. “You’re out of my league. How could you ever even have me on your radar? Why would you ever be interested in me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be interested?” She asked, causing his jaw to drop once again.

She spoke again, shaking her head at the sheer ridiculousness of this moment. How could such an intelligent man be so oblivious? “I have been flirting with you for over a month now. I must be really shitty at it if you didn’t figure it out.”

He spoke his brain going a mile a second trying to think over every second they’d spent together over the past month. “You were?”

She wanted to bury her head in her hands at the question. God, he really was clueless wasn’t he? “Yes, very bluntly.  Honestly, I was flirting with you long before that. You didn’t seem to be getting the hint though, so over this past month I’ve really amped it up. You really didn’t think I needed to ask your opinions on anatomy for that art piece I was working on did you?”

She spoke again, spotting the look of confusion on his face. “You’ve been to my place Jimmy. You’ve seen my bookcases. I have more than enough books that I could turn to for reference if I had a question about getting the anatomy accurate on a painting.”

He felt his cheeks flush at the realization. He’d honestly missed all the signs. If anything he’d just read her jokes and smiles and friendliness. He’d thought she was asking for his help because she’d wanted to get back into painting and he had a deep understanding of anatomy. She’d insisted that he was the only one she trusted to guide her. She’d insisted he had the advantage of both having an analytical mind thanks to his medical knowledge and a creative mind thanks to his own passion for art. He’d been flattered by her insistence and had missed that the praise she’d given him had a flirty undertone to it. Sure, he’d noticed lingering touches and deep gazes but he’d assumed it was all in his head.

She spoke shaking her head slightly. It would be pathetic if he wasn’t so sweet. “Jimmy you asked how you could ever be on my radar, but how could you not be? I mean...did you miss the part where I kissed you back?”

He’d spoken surprised by an uncharacteristic surge of confidence sounding far smoother than he was sure he’d ever sounded. “I may have missed it. Could you refresh my memory?”

She’d leaned up her lips pressing to his he easily melting into the kiss returning it eagerly his arms encircling her waist pleased to find she fit against him just as perfectly as he’d imagined she would.

The smoothness faded from his voice, he sounding uncertain as he pulled his lips from hers. “What does this mean for us?”

She’d not minded his lack of confidence, her hand stroking his jawline, he leaning into her touch as she reassured him. “I didn’t work so hard flirting with you for months now for us not to make things official.”

And they had made things official.

There had only been one problem; Anthony Dinozzo Jr.

Liv had looked so guilty and so afraid when she’d brought it up only a month into Jimmy’s and her romantic relationship. “We don’t have to keep it from him forever, Jimmy. Trust me, this isn’t me being ashamed to be with you. I promise you it isn’t. I adore you so much. You’ve been so perfect and so sweet and I love being with you. Please don’t think I could ever be ashamed to tell anyone. Tony is just..Our childhood was a disaster. Dinozzo Sr. isn’t the warm fuzzy take you to watch baseball kind of dad. Trust me. Most of the kids I grew up with were shoved off on nannies the second we popped out of the womb.”

She paused shaking her head. “You know my mom died when I was four and even though she’d already left Dinozzo Sr. custody of me still went to him. Tony was in boarding school by then and Dinozzo Sr. wasn’t into actually raising me. So nannies took over all the parenting. It was just the normal thing to do in that environment. It just creates a cycle where parents find it easier to throw money at their kids instead of giving them any attention and the kids act out to get attention. Dinozzo Sr. really only gave me attention when he needed to make himself look good. And Tony was out of the house for good when I was a preteen, so I was left alone with that.”

She paused again clearing her throat. “I rebelled. I was hungry for any kind of attention even if it was negative. I had a pretty intense party girl phase starting in my teens and lasting into my early twenties. I wasn’t the only one...you know the stereotype, rich kids having the world and squandering and not appreciating the opportunities they’re given. I wanted my dad’s attention and he didn’t even notice. I think he didn’t write me out of the will and cut me off because he’d already done that song and dance with Tony. I guess it was too shameful to have two disowned kids instead of just one. He kept feeding my trust fund and pretended not to notice when I acted out.. So I sought out attention from other sources and found myself in some pretty awful situations. I mean..it was chaos and I was right there in the middle of it. I managed to stay clean at least when it came to anything harder than pot. I still partied too much though. My friend group didn’t shy away from the harder stuff and I didn’t have the sense to stay away from them. When things got scary, I couldn’t call my dad because he wouldn’t come rescue me. Tony was the only one who was ever there for me.”

“He was the only one you could trust.” Jimmy remarked Liv letting out a soft sigh nodding her head.

She spoke again. “I called Tony to bail me out of whatever mess I’d gotten myself into more than once. When I hit rock bottom he helped me sort my shit out. Even though it’s been a few years and I’m in a far better place emotionally, Tony still sees me as a scared little girl who finds herself in messes and needs rescuing. He is overprotective and anytime a guy shows me any interest he scares them off. I know you’re going to try to reassure me that he won’t scare you off...but that’s not my biggest worry.”

She paused taking a deep breath and deciding to just be blunt about it. “My brother has a gun and he knows exactly how to use it Jimmy.”

Jimmy felt himself pale at what she was insinuating. She spoke once again spelling it out even more her eyes beginning to water. “I don’t know how he would react, especially considering you technically work together. I think he just needs time to see that I’m really okay and that I’ve grown up and am no longer the girl I used to be. He needs to understand I don’t need him to protect me anymore. I don’t want us to keep our relationship a secret from him, but I don’t know what else we can do for now. I know it’s so unfair for me to ask that of you and I know it makes the worst girlfriend on the planet. I wish there was a better way, I jus…”

She didn’t have a chance to keep speaking as Jimmy spoke interrupting her his heart aching at the tears in her eyes. He couldn’t take her crying. He couldn’t stand the thought of it. She was far too beautiful to be filled with any sorrow. “I don’t like keeping it a secret either. You aren’t the worst girlfriend on the planet though, I promise. I’m okay with following your lead on this. We can do what you think is right for as long as you need. I like you too much to risk anything. Whatever makes you comfortable, I’m going to support you.”

They hadn’t intended it to be a year later and for them to be no closer to telling Tony the truth, but the timing had just never seemed right.

So they had persisted on like this, keeping Tony in the dark about everything.

There had only been one time where he’d almost discovered it all and that had been when Liv had called her number flashing along Jimmy’s cell’s screen in front of Tony. Jimmy had felt his stomach drop at Tony spoke. “Why is my sister calling you?”

Jimmy had spoken silencing his phone the lie falling from him. “I’m helping her with an art piece.She wanted some insight on anatomy and I offered to help…I uh, we ran into each other at a coffee shop a little while back and she remembered that you and I work together and asked for my help. So, I’ve just been giving her a second opinion on her work from a more analytical standpoint.”

He felt his heart drop Tony making it obvious he didn’t like this information. “I’d rather her ask Ducky for an anatomy lesson. Watch yourself Palmer.”

That had been a clear sign to Jimmy that they probably were doing the right thing keeping it a secret. He’d spotted a dangerous edge to Tony’s voice that day and Jimmy had easily remembered Tony’s gun.

As time went on though Jimmy knew it couldn’t stay a secret forever. Especially if they wanted any kind of future together.

Their relationship had grown serious. It was serious enough that Jimmy had introduced Liv to his family. He’d been able to at least announce that she was his girlfriend in that environment even if it was a secret at work.

Jimmy couldn’t help but to fear that they were getting a little too sloppy lately though, considering the evidence of their relationship had appeared on his neck more than once these past few months.

He tried his best to shake his worries from his mind as he arrived at her place; he was almost able to go on autopilot at this point when it came to the trip to her apartment after work.

Jimmy wasn’t surprised that she embraced him the second he walked through her door he barely having time to drop his bag and his spare key.

He buried his face against her taking in her familiar smell and the warmth of her body, the smell and touch feeling soothing after the day he’d had.

They stood there silently holding on to one another, soaking up the moment before she finally spoke, only pulling back from him far enough to speak clearly. “You smell like stinky hospital soap.”

He managed to chuckle at this pointing out the truth. “It’s preferable to what I smelled like before I used the hazmat shower at work.”

She spoke not shy about asking as she straightened out his tie the deep silver material having been a gift from her. It was a nice silk blend that he would never have gotten for himself. “That bad?”

“Awful.” He admitted his stomach turning at the memory.

She spoke nodding her head trying not to cringe at her own question or the information she risked receiving. “Worst than the body Dr. Mallard and you pulled from that sauna a few months ago?”

“So much worse. The sauna body may have been a pile of sludgy decomp, but this body today was pulled from a lake. So it was bloated and it smelled like severe decay and fish and algae all at once. The fish had gotten to some of the body so we’re working with a mess. I thought the smell would never leave my sinuses. Dr. Mallard took some sympathy on me and let me use the hazmat shower again.”

Liv nodded her head at this information trying not to visibly shudder at the imagery. She’d long ago figured out that when it came to her boyfriend’s odd career choice she had to have a tough stomach and strong will if she ever wanted him to feel comfortable venting about work to her or expressing excitement about something he’d found interesting at work.

She’d learned far more about decomposition and murder than she ever wanted to know, but she’d kept her disgust at bay telling herself being able to have Jimmy share the events of his day with her was well worth the disgusting details.

He’d been so hesitant to share the details with her at the beginning of their relationship, admitting to her that most people were uncomfortable with the details surrounding his job. She’d gently reassured him though that he should be allowed to share details about his day with her. If needed to vent about something he found frustrating or share something he found fascinating, she didn’t want him to have hesitations. She’d reassured him that if it ever became too much or too disturbing she’d stop him. She’d done her very best to resist stopping him from sharing with her though. She just wanted to be the best girlfriend possible. He needed someone to share his burdens with who wouldn’t judge him.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek her voice soft and reassuring. “Did it totally kill your appetite? Please tell me you didn’t skip dinner. You know your blood sugar plummets when you skip out on eating.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple not at all minding her scolding. “I ate. Dr. Mallard bought me dinner. Speaking of, he wants us to come to dinner Sunday. I told him I would need to check with you before I committed, just in case you had plans for us.”

“I don’t have any plans for us. I’d be happy to have dinner with him.” She reassured Jimmy trying her best to pretend she wasn’t still trying to shake the image of corpse eating fish from her brain.

Jimmy nodded his head relieved that she never seemed to be tempted to turn down Ducky’s dinner invites.

Dr. Mallard was the only person Jimmy worked with who knew about Liv and he. It had been an accident, telling Dr. Mallard.

Jimmy had been in the middle of assisting with an autopsy when Dr. Mallard had been rattling on about a case he’d worked where a man had been poisoned with cyanide being added to his palak paneer. The man had never seen it coming, his wife had poisoned him knowing he wouldn’t suspect her to poison his favorite meal.”

Jimmy had felt the words leave him before he could stop it. “I may need to tell Liv that Indian food night is cancelled for a little while.”

He’d felt his cheeks flush relieved that it had just been him and Dr. Mallard here to hear this information. He’d frantically explained it all, admitting the truth and confirming that Liv was Olivia Dinozzo and yes they were an item and please don’t tell Tony.

Much to Jimmy’s relief Dr. Mallard had agreed to keep his secret though he’d left him with a firm warning. Secrets couldn’t stay secrets forever and when the truth came out the fallout might not be so pleasant.

Jimmy had been relieved that Liv hadn’t been upset that he’d let their secret slip once he’d reassured her it was safe with Dr. Mallard.

Liv pressed her lips to his he easily melting into it as he always seemed to do. She giggled he so clearly chasing her lips for another kiss as she pulled away and spoke. “Can you hold off on calling him to confirm our invite until tomorrow. I have plans for you tonight.”

“Oh you do?” He asked as she pressed another kiss to his lips.

“So many plans.” She insisted her lips trailing down his neck a giggle leaving her as she spotted evidence of the last time they’d gotten a little caught up in one another.

She spoke an apologetic tone crossing her voice. “I’m sorry I made such a mess of your neck.”

He let out a soft sigh nodding his head. “Tony pointed it out, but I deflected it. He’ll probably drop it once something else attracts his attention. He’ll have the whole weekend to forget it.”

She nodded her head trying to pretend her stomach wasn’t turning at this knowledge that her brother might be catching on. He had no reason to suspect she was the one who’d left all those hickies on Jimmy’s neck. After all, Jimmy was careful enough to return them on her skin in places she could easily hide. Not to mention Tony had no idea that Jimmy and she spent any time together aside from the occasional “art project” Jimmy helped her with.

She knew it was getting more and more difficult to hide the truth. The more intertwined Jimmy’s and her life became the more they risked Tony finding out in the worst way possible.

There had been so many moments over the past year that Liv had wanted to tell Tony everything. She’d rehearsed it all in her head practicing the words again and again. She’d told herself that she just needed to have a heart-to-heart with her older brother and confess exactly how she felt about Jimmy and exactly how she felt in general. The timing was never right though. She never quite worked up the nerve to just bite the bullet and tell Tony everything.

She’d be lying if she tried to pretend that she didn’t feel like the worst girlfriend on the planet. After all, she’d met Jimmy’s entire family but she couldn’t find the balls to tell her own brother about Jimmy. Jimmy had been so proud to introduce her to his mother and his sister and grandmother. Why couldn’t she be proud to tell Tony that Jimmy was her boyfriend.

She knew the longer this went on the worst the outcome would be. The consequence of her choice would bite her in the ass eventually.

Deep down she knew the truth would need to come out sooner than later especially as Jimmy and she began to discuss their plans for the future and the fact that those plans very much involved one another.

She tried to push the worries from her mind as she spoke a soft sigh leaving her. “I’ll be more careful from now on. In my defense though, I just couldn’t help myself. You were being so cute and cuddly and we were having a lazy morning. I just got caught up in how sweet and handsome you are and how much I love you.”

“We were having a nice morning, I love you too.” Jimmy responded unable to stop the dreamy smile crossing his lips at the memory of exactly what they’d been doing when she’d left deep purple hickies along his neck.

To be fair he had left a share of his own lovebites along her body.

She ran her lips down his jaw running them lightly along his neck as she spoke. “So, I got a new camera.”

He felt his breath hitch finding it hard to concentrate when she was standing this close to him, her lips sliding along his skin. “Yeah?”

“Uh huh, It’s a pretty nice vintage Canon 35 mm camera from the late seventies I’ve had my eye on for a while. I finally found a refurbished one that is almost as good as new. I’m thinking I want to try doing a series of photos with it, maybe using some black and white film and doing it all old school. The only problem is I need to test it out first, make sure the film I got for it is good to go. I’m going to develop all the pictures myself and make sure it’s taking nice clear photos.” She explained pausing running her lips along the nape of his neck loosening his tie and unfastening hsi dress shirt just enough to reach his bare skin.

She spoke again already knowing she would have very little trouble convincing him. “So, do you want to help me test my camera out?”

He nodded his head eagerly unashamed of just how needy he sounded as the words left him. “I’m always happy to be your test model.”

She chuckled as she turned, taking his hands in hers leading him back towards her bedroom. “You were way too easy to convince. I didn’t even have to bribe you with an offer to take some nude photos for you.”

“Can we bring that offer back to the table?” he asked unashamedly, following her to her bedroom and whatever she had planned for him so eagerly.

“Sit still for a few photos and we’ll see.” She remarked already knowing he’d probably sit through however many photos she wanted even without a bribe.

He loved her far too much to say no, and she had no problem taking full advantage of it.

Needless to say, she had a feeling she might not be able to hold true to her promise to be a little more careful when it came to leaving lovebites along Jimmy’s neck.

……………………………………………………………….

A loud bang wasn’t the ideal way to wake up early on a Saturday morning. The banging persisted even as she attempted to bury her head underneath her pillow.

She let out a groan rolling her eyes as it hit her that Jimmy was still fast asleep apparently he was far too drained from the day before and the late night they’d had to allow something like some persistent knocks at her front door to wake him.

The only indication he gave that he was even aware of the situation was a drowsy half asleep comment muffled against his pillow “Tell the neighbor to be quiet, too early baby. Oli make em be quiet.”

She shook her head knowing it did no good to wake him and explain exactly what was happening. He worked so hard during the week. He deserved to have a restful sleep on the weekends. He needed his rest. She just had to go tell whoever was at her front door this early to get lost and then she could go back to sleep too.

She pulled herself from the bed finding one of Jimmy’s t-shirts and a pair of panties knowing the shirt was large enough to cover her lower half. To be safe she at least put a kimono on over the makeshift outfit knowing a little extra coverage would be wise.

She moved quickly, shutting the bedroom door behind her and making her way to the front door where the knocking continued.

She peered through the peephole, her stomach dropping. Well crap. She hoped Jimmy really was sleeping as deep as he’d seemed to be just a moment ago.

She just had to crack the door and get rid of Tony, and she could go back to bed with no one being the wiser about just who was sleeping nude in her bed.

She attempted to do just that, Tony not shy about speaking far too loudly for this time of the morning. “What the hell? I thought you’d never answer the door.”

“It’s Saturday morning.” She responded keeping the door cracked, hoping he’d get whatever he wanted out fast so she could get rid of him.

“I called but you didn’t answer. I need help. You remember Gina?” Tony insisted reaching forward pushing the door.

“Barely, what about her?” Liv asked, attempting to push back against the door trying to keep him out of her apartment and keep her cool pretending that his coworker wasn’t asleep in her bedroom.

Despite her attempts to keep the door shut Tony managed to work it open, letting himself in. “I thought I’d finally got rid of her but she found me when I went out last night and the only way I could escape was by telling her my sister had an emergency. We were at my place and she wasn’t leaving without a fight. I was desperate to get out of there. She might still be at my place. I just need somewhere to lie low until she gets bored and leaves.”

“That was last night, did you seriously sleep with her and now you’re trying to use me as an excuse to ditch her?” Liv asked deep down inside knowing that she already knew the answer to this question.

She might love Tony, but she couldn’t deny the fact that her older brother could be, well, a giant asshole at times. The man was the poster child for commitment issues.

“Well, when you put it that way it sounds bad., I can’t help it, Livy, she has this power over me. I cannot tell her no and then when I have a chance to regret it then it’s already too late.” Tony insisted not taking notice of Jimmy’s messenger bag on her floor.

He did notice something else of Jimmy’s though. “Wait a minute, you didn’t go to Georgetown.”

Liv felt her heart drop as she realized Tony was staring down at her t-shirt, the same t-shirt Jimmy had worn to bed last night and had ditched at some point when they’d decided to go for a round two where he’d left a very noticeable hickey long her left thigh as revenge for the new lovebite she’d given him along his collarbone.

She parted her lips trying to come up with a lie fast, but she didn’t have a chance as the actual owner of her t-shirt made his way into the room rubbing the sleep from his eyes not even noticing his girlfriend’s guest as he obstructed his own vision with his hand.

At least he’d managed to grab a pair of boxers from the floor instead of wandering into the room as nude as he’d been just a moment ago.

He spoke as he continued to rub the sleep from his eyes still oblivious to the situation at hand. “Baby it’s so early, why are you up? I thought I heard knocking but then…”

He felt the statement die on his lips as he lowered his hand, his stomach dropping as he realized the reality of their current predicament.

Tony moved quickly, starting to race towards Jimmy, his eyes narrowing. He spoke as Liv moved just as fast stepping between the men before things got too far. “What the hell Palmer? That’s my sister!”

Jimmy parted his lips, his voice sounding out though his throat was tightening panic bubbling in his gut. “Tony, I can explain everything.”

“Can you explain it? What the hell is there to explain? You’re sleeping with my sister? Oh god, she’s the one who’s been leaving all those hickies on your neck? You’re seriously hooking up with my little sister. You were in such a rush to leave work last night so you could come...have fun with my baby sister!.” Tony exclaimed disgust and rage crossing his features, he still attempting to reach forward more than likely debating throwing a punch Jimmy’s way.

“It’s not like that!” Jimmy exclaimed in response. It wasn’t just sex, he had to explain that this wasn’t just a case of him having some sort of friends with benefits situation with Liv.

“It sure as hell looks like that!” Tony remarked Liv pushing him forward trying her best to keep her enraged brother and her horrified boyfriend apart before someone got hurt.

She spoke trying to be the voice of reason. “We’re together Tony. We wanted to tell you…”

“Together? Are you serious?” Tony asked he moving forward again Liv pushing him away trying her best to keep the peace.

“Yes, together, we’ve been dating for a year now and we never meant for it to stay a secret this long. We just didn’t know how to tell you.” She explained, Jimmy fast to speak trying to support her and be another voice of reason. “I love her Tony. I promise you I’ve always had the best of intentions with Liv. She means the world to me.”

Tony spoke shaking his head disgust still written across his features he not hearing anything Jimmy had to say about any of this. “ My coworker Olivia? Him? Why didn’t you just twist the knife in more and sleep with Probie while you were at it.”

Liv let out a huff shaking her head trying not to sound offended by what he seemed to be insinuating. “I wasn’t just hooking up with Jimmy with no strings attached. This hasn’t just been sex. Believe it or not but I’m capable of having a loving stable relationship with someone who genuinely cares for me.”

Tony spoke so angry that he wasn’t going to shy away from going for a nerve he knew he could strike. “Well what else am I supposed to think Olivia? Considering your past, are you really surprised I don’t think the worst of your choice in men?”

“Don’t you dare. You have no right to hold any of that over my head!” Liv snapped her voice rising Jimmy shocked to hear a dangerous edge to her voice that was so unlike his girlfriend’s usual sweet gentle demeanor.

Tony scoffed at this comment. “Really? I don't have a right? You seem to forget that I’m always the one who has to clean up your messes.”

“That isn’t true! I’m not that person any more and you have no right to pretend I didn’t work hard to be a better person! I’ve worked so hard and you still treat me like I’m a disaster!” She cried out, her voice still so filled with rage.

Jimmy spoke, attempting to stop this before it got even uglier. “Tony, come on, this isn’t fair.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about Palmer. Just how much has she told you about herself?” Tony snapped clearly ready to strike for blood and hurt his sister in exchange for her betrayal.

“Shut up Tony.” Liv snarled quickly, losing her cool the more Tony spoke.

Tony didn’t hold back letting his anger get the best of him. “Do you know how many times I’ve rescued her from whatever shitty situation she decided to get herself into? I have spent so many nights driving out to nightclubs or one of her shitty friend’s penthouses to save her because things got a little too real for her to handle. Did she tell you about the boyfriend who got coked out of his brain and she had to lock herself in a bathroom and call me to come save her because she was afraid he might hurt her? Or maybe she told you about the time she had to leave some guy’s apartment at two am and she wound up wandering the streets until she found a phonebooth to call me to come get her on a bad side of town. Or maybe she told you about the time she got herself arrested for being intoxicated and fighting with some guy in a parking lot at a seedy nightclub, so our father had to throw money at a judge to get the charges dropped? But Senior wasn’t ever there to actually rescue her. It’s always been me. Our father just throws more money at her and she keeps getting into trouble and never learning. I’m the one who always has to be the responsible one and stop her from getting hurt.”

Tony paused, regretting the words the moment they left his lips. “Trust me Palmer, I know my sister. She’s always been like this. Too much to put up with and too hard to love. She’s so starved for affection that she jumps into bed with anyone who’ll have her. So forgive me for not believing she’s actually got her shit together for once.”

The harsh tone that Liv’s lips shocked both men her voice cracking as she spoke. “Get out of my apartment!”

Tony took a deep breath calming his anger realizing he’d really messed up. He’d tried to go for a jugular to hurt her and he’d succeeded. “Liv please…”

“Get the fuck out!” She snapped her voice sounding shrill an explosive anger leaving her so unlike her.

Tony parted his lips trying to find the words but Jimmy spoke deciding to do what needed to be done. He had promised Liv he’d support her in whatever she needed to do, and he meant it. “You need to leave Tony. Just go.”

Tony looked as though he wanted to protest but he let out a deep breath taking one final apologetic glance his sister’s way before he finally left the apartment.

Jimmy and Olivia stood in silence Jimmy fearing her silence meant the worst. The insecure little voice in the back of his brain told him she’d want to be alone now. She’d blame him for wrecking her relationship with her brother. She’d want him to go.

He spoke praying the voice wasn’t true. “Oli.”

She turned taking him by shock her arms wrapping around his torso she squeezing him so tight it almost hurt. She spoke her voice sounding weepy as she tried and failed not to cry. “Jimmy.”

He rocked her against him as she spoke her voice still so tearful. “Please don’t leave me.”

Jimmy was fast to speak stunned she’d been just as afraid of his abandonment as he’d been afraid of hers. “Never, I’m never going to leave you.”

He continued to rock her against him as she cried, his heart breaking. He still couldn’t stand to see her cry. “I’ve got you, it’s okay. It'll all be okay. I love you.”

He repeated the words like a mantra rocking her against him as her body finally grew weak she unable to force herself to cry more even if she wanted to. “I love you. I’ve changed. I promise I’m not that girl anymore.”

“I know you aren’t. I know you weren’t her when we met at all. You’re you Oli. You’re the beautiful woman who took my breath away that day in that NCIS elevator. You’re the sweet gentle girl who bought me lunch because your neighbor's dog stole mine. You’re the girl who I kissed in the rain and all I could think was that you tasted like strawberry ice cream and all my dreams coming true. You’re the girl who kisses every inch of me and takes too many photos of me. You’re the beautiful girl who won’t let me tell you that I’m so unattractive that I’ll break your camera. You tell me all the things you like about me and make me feel more secure than anyone ever has and ever will. I know who you are.”

She closed her eyes praying to whoever might be listening that he meant it all. He spoke again trying to make his point clear. “You aren’t hard to love. You’re so easy for me to love.”

The statement caused more tears to fall she somehow clinging to him all the tighter. He managed to speak once again doing all he could to find some small way to soothe her. “Come on lets go get a bath okay. Just let me hold you in the bath for a little while. We can use that chamomile bubble bath soap you like to use when you’re having a bad day. Let me take care of you Oli.”

She nodded her head wordlessly, her body feeling so tired. She felt so exhausted as she tried to wrap her brain around Tony’s statement. He’d thrown all her worst fears right in her face. It hurt, it hurt so much. He was the only family she’d trusted and he’d said she was hard to love.

Jimmy pressed a kiss to her temple, making a silent promise to himself that he would do whatever it took to reassure her of his love. He didn’t care what it took.

He swallowed the lump in his throat trying to push back the anger bubbling in his gut. He wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive Tony Dinozzo for what he’d said and he definitely didn’t think he could forgive him for making her cry.

Jimmy would do whatever it took to make sure she never had a reason to cry by his side ever again.

#Jimmy Palmer #Jimmy Palmer Fanfiction #Jimmy Palmer/oc #ncis #ncis fanfic #ncis fanfiction

[snarkwrites]

21.12 - Deck The Halls, opie winston

Title: Deck The Halls Theme: Tree / Decoration Fandom / Character(s): Opie Winston & OFC, Hazel Morrow - Sons of Anarchy Warnings: Angst and awkwardness, mentions of a black eye, pregnancy... That’s p. much it. Word Count: 2k, roughly. And we’re just 3 days out from Christmas Eve now, guys? Can you believe it? It’s been one hell of a year and I know that personally, I will be glad to put 2020 behind me. I pray that 2021 is so much kinder to us all. In the spirit of kindness and gifts, here’s mine for @champbucks​ 12 Days Of Christmas challenge, which in case you’ve missed it, I’ve been participating in. Hazel Morrow is my own personal creation from the Sons of Anarchy universe and while I’ve never actually /written a fic/ using her, I have written about her on the blog here in the past. Anyway, enough rambling! Enjoy!!

BTW. I made the banner. No reposting/stealing/reusing.

TAGGING:

@kyleoreillysknee @chasingeverybreakingwave​ @sassymox are the names I have down for my SOA taglist. If you’d like to be added, shoot me a dm/ask on my main @snarkandsarcasmftw​ or click on the link to the doc below and add yourself!!

[ about my writing | masterlist | multifandom tag doc ]

The sound of the door being nearly beaten down had my heart pounding for a second or two. I sat up in bed, frozen. The knocking got louder. I don’t think I really relaxed until I heard Opie call through, “Haze, you up, darlin?”

My brow raised, especially when I caught sight of the time glancing at my cell phone. It was a little after midnight. And as far as I knew, the guys had all gone off on a run earlier. Normally, a run lasted at least a day or two.

Opie knocked again and it spurred me to movement. I slipped out of bed and pulled on an oversized plaid shirt over the thin little gown I’d been wearing to sleep in. Rubbing my eyes and yawning, I made my way down the hallway. 

“Opie, everything okay?” I yawned out the question as I opened the door to my apartment and stepped aside to let him come in.

And he came in alright, but he was dragging a massive Christmas tree.

I bit my lip, eyeing it and then him. I flinched as I felt the fluttering kick in my abdomen and my hand moved down, resting on my stomach. “I knew eggs ranchero at the diner was not a good idea.” I gave a sheepish laugh. Opie chuckled quietly and after propping the tree against a wall, he rubbed his hand over his head.

“Mom said you guys went out earlier. On a run.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t anything real big.” Opie shrugged. “Jax’s idea.” he nodded to the tree currently occupying the wall next to my apartment door and I gave a soft laugh, nodding. “Yeah, he had a bug up his ass when he was over here two nights ago helping me fix the sink. Said that it’s going to be his niece’s first Christmas, she needed a tree and decorations.”

I didn’t dare ask anything further. While I may be trying to reconnect with the family I’d distanced from years before because of their life choices, I still operated on the firm belief that the less I knew, the better off  I was.

One of us stepped just a little closer. The baby kicked again and I gave a soft giggle, the sound dying away on my lips as I looked up and locked eyes with Opie. Already staring down at me with this intent look in his eyes. And that heavy tension filled the air all over again. Just like it’s done every single time Opie and I have a run in.

I eyed the tree again, just to keep myself from stepping even closer to him. I could see the beginnings of a black eye in the dim overhead lighting and I winced a little, raising my fingertips gingerly to touch the area. Opie grumbled and I was about to quickly snatch my hand away, but he caught hold of my wrist and held my fingers where they’d been gingerly resting against his face.

 “Jax didn’t bring the tree over himself.” I muttered, mostly to myself, mostly just to have something to say to shatter the tension filled silence between Opie and I at the moment.

He still hadn’t let go of my wrist so I could move my hand, so I didn’t bother trying to do it myself. Opie stepped a little closer and chuckled quietly, shaking his head. His next words shocked me just a little.

“Actually, I offered.”

“You did, huh?” I tilted my head slightly, smiling up at him a little.

Opie chuckled again and when I felt his hand settle on my hip and give a light squeeze, I took a shaky breath or two. “Why’s that such a surprise, huh? We used to be best friends, Haze.”

,, and I also used to be head over heels in love with you. And I still am... If only you had a clue, Opie.” the thought reared it’s head and I shoved it out, correcting him quietly. “We still are.”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Opie hadn’t ever been the kind of guy to pull punches.I’d known that at some point, he was going to confront me. However, I didn’t expect it to be at a little after 1 am, in the middle of my living room.

I sighed quietly. “I just.. I wanted to give you space.”

Opie nodded. We were back to the heavy silence again. And we kept drifting closer to each other. The closer we drifted, the more I wanted to grab hold of the front of his cutte and pull his mouth down against mine. To finally kiss him. Finally lay it all out there. Because the biggest reason I’ve been avoiding him since I moved back here?

Because seeing him again. Being close to him again.. It brought everything right back. Stronger this time, because I could see he was hurting and it made me hurt for him. It made me want to be the one comforting him. And it scared the hell out of me because the whole reason I’ve never acted on how I feel towards him is because I’ve always told myself that I can’t be with one of the guys in the MC. I couldn’t…Especially not Opie, not as much as I loved him. If something were to happen to him, I didn’t know what I’d do.

,, but you’re miserable keeping it to yourself. And keeping such a distance that you can’t even be in the same room with him is only making it worse because he’s your best friend and you miss that. You need that right now.” 

“I don’t recall askin for space, darlin.” Opie’s voice was husky. The way he said it had me looking up from where I’d been distractedly staring down at his cutte and trailing my fingertips over the stitching in the leather to meet his gaze. I swallowed hard and nodded. For once I was at a loss for words. Because I didn’t want to give him space either, but at the same time, that old fear still ruled me. “I just want my friend back.”

I nodded again. “I’m sorry.”

He chuckled quietly, giving me a tight but careful hug. “It’s okay. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t mad or something.”

Some of the tension dissolved, but not all of it. No, the air was still thick, heavy with words I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to say. He reached up above us and pulled the string to the overhead light to make it brighter and nodded to the tree. “I’m here… Let’s see if we can’t get this fucking thing up.”

“I hope it fits. The ceiling’s real low and that tree looks like it’s a fucking giant.” I laughed softly, making my way into the little kitchen area to grab some scissors or a knife, something to cut the plastic webbing that bound the tree and kept it compressed. After a little digging I found some scissors and walked back into the living room. Right at the exact time that Opie was walking towards the kitchen where I’d been.

We found ourselves body to body again and I stared up at him a second or two. He nodded to the fully extended tree and brandished a pocketknife. “Always have it on me.”

“Yeah. Hey, wait. That’s the knife I got you for your birthday.”

Opie chuckled quietly and nodded. We turned our attention to the tree for a few seconds and I let out a shaky laugh. “He had to get the fullest damn tree for this tiny space.”

“He wouldn’t be Jax if he didn’t.” Opie laughed and shook his head. Neither of us had moved yet. He was staring down at me again, the look in his eyes like he wanted to say something. Then he was leaning in. His lips brushed mine lightly and I couldn’t stop the quiet whimper that came as my eyes fluttered open and closed. “Haze?”

“Mhm?” I hummed out the word, my mouth brushing right against his all over again. We were too close now. I had hardly any willpower left to fight off the overwhelming desire to close the distance between our mouths. Obviously, he didn’t either, because one of his hands raised, tangling in my hair and resting across the back of my neck to pull my mouth completely against his. My hand went from resting palm down against the leather vest to clutching at it as I rose to tiptoe. His free arm wrapped around my waist to keep me from losing my balance and our noses bumped clumsily as his tongue trailed the outline of my mouth. “I can find some ornaments tomorrow… We can decorate it.” he half mumbled against my mouth as I answered quietly, “Yeah.” laughing softly into the kiss. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip and the kiss broke, both of us pulling away, breathless.

“Opie…”

“ Yeah, Haze?”

“The reason I’ve been keeping my distance is because I can’t just.. I can’t go back to just being friends with you. I..” I trailed off, fidgeting under his intent gaze before eventually dropping mine to stare down at my chipping toenail polish.

Opie tilted my chin and smirked down at me quietly. “I don’t want to be friends. Did you miss that whole kiss just now or somethin, darlin?”

My breath caught in my throat and I blinked. 

“I want you, Haze.”

I melted against him and muttered quietly, “I want you too. I… we just have to take this slow, okay?”

“I waited this long, didn’t I, darlin?”

“Yeah… I mean, I guess you did.”

Opie pulled me against him and laughed against the crown of my hair quietly, “It’s real cute how oblivious you are sometimes, Haze.”

I pouted up at him and he chuckled again. “You need your rest. I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”

“Be careful going home, please?” I walked him to the door of my apartment and pressed against him, putting his back against the door as I pulled his mouth down against mine all over again, giving him a deep and slow kiss. His hands moved over my sides and as the kiss broke, he reached out, resting his thumb against my lip. “Night, Haze.”

“Night, Opie.” I shut the door behind him and leaned against it to catch my breath and attempt to process after I’d locked all three of the locks. When my eyes settled on that damn giant of a tree, I burst into laughter and shook my head.

Maybe having a meddling older brother isn’t a bad thing. Maybe his meddling was what was needed tonight. I felt more free than I’ve felt in years, finally having everything out in the open. A soft and lazy smile formed on my face as I replayed what happened over again in my head.

And I found myself excited for tomorrow.. And any day to come after that.

#12 days of christmas #opie winston fanfiction #opie winston fanfic #opie winston imagine #opie winston imagines #opie winston fic #opie winston one shot #my writing; opie winston #my fics; opie winston #my one shots; opie winston #ahhhhh we're almost through this year. #happy holidays

[deathonyourtongue]

Resurrection | 3

Summary: A ragtag team of Spec-Ops operators are brought out of retirement for all the wrong reasons. When the dust settles, only the best will be left standing. Pairing: Pablo Schreiber x OFC, Henry Cavill x OFC (listen, she gets with the whole team, okay? Don’t lie, you would too.) Word Count: 3K Warnings: Violence. Lots of it. Smut. Angst. The usual. A/N : I’m reposting this for a few reasons. Mainly ‘cause I’m done having my fics in two places, wanted to re-work the cover, and most importantly wanted those of you who weren’t following me back when these chapters were originally posted to be able to take it in from scratch. I’ve also cleaned up a lot of the text as far as grammar, etc. goes, so it’s more polished. Enjoy! Like what I do? Buy me a coffee (or a commission)!

1 | 2 |

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“It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood, a beautiful day for a shootout…” Jake sings, sipping his coffee and ignoring the looks he’s getting from those around us. 

“How exactly are you planning on finishing that song, Pooh?” I ask, shaking my head, my gaze focused past his head, watching across the street as Dom speaks to our contact. 

“I haven’t figured that out yet, but it has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“Somewhere, Mr. Rogers is rolling in his grave.” I mutter, shaking my head, my focus on the conversation across the street and not on Jake’s bastardization of a childhood classic.

To the untrained eye, Dom and our contact are simply two businessmen having a conversation. Both in suits, they stick out only to pickpockets and petty thieves in the bustling, open-air market; one of a handful of men with money who pick populated places to hold their meetings. For our part, we’re dressed like tourists, doing our best to blend in under the hot desert sun. Under our civvies, we’ve all got vests on, and with our gear nearby; it’s only a matter of a short sprint if things go sideways. 

“Every time you sing or talk about shootouts, we end up in one so...Could you fucking not?” Benji grumbles, voicing an opinion we’ve all had at one time or another, but have always kept to ourselves, mainly because listening to Jake’s comedy is one of the few highlights of our work. 

“Sorry, Benji-poo, just being realistic about our chances of walking our lily-white asses out of here without getting caught.” Jake grins, throwing a small rib bone at him, picked clean from our lunch.

“Speak for yourself, white boy. All I gotta do is smile and bat my lashes and I’m home free,” I tease, Jake’s smile matching mine. 

“Yeah, just to get sold into slavery for your--” Flip squeezes the air in front of his chest, whistling, and this time it’s his face that gets pegged with a rib bone. “What? I’m just sayin’. I’d buy you.” 

“I thought Vikings were more for just taking what wasn’t theirs,” Rick smirks, finishing his coffee, his eyes scanning the area behind me and allowing me to see what he sees by proxy as it reflects off the lenses of his sunglasses.

We catch the man at the same time. A flash of chrome amidst all the terracotta is more out of place than Dom in his suit and instantly, we both sit up straight. 

“Ghost, we have potential contact, your six. Be ready to move,” I whisper into my mic, hidden artfully beneath my shirt. I see Dom’s back straighten seconds later, all of us bracing for the inevitable. 

The first shot rings out and silences the market momentarily before screaming and the sounds of chaos follow. Keeping my eye on Dom, I duck down beneath the table Max and Benji had flipped, letting them ascertain the direction of the shooter. It takes only a moment for Flip to fire the first shot back, his volley returned with automatic fire. 

“Get to the gear. NOW!” Rick calls, and we move as one, each covering not only ourselves, but Dom until he and our contact are out of sight. 

“Ghost, we’re moving to the backup point. Meet us there!” I instruct as I run, slamming against a wall and covering Benji as he sprints the same open strip of market. Bullets whiz past him, but he makes it to us unscathed. 

We make quick work of heading into the building we’d cleared out earlier, shedding our civilian disguises in favor of plain t-shirts, vests, and thigh holsters. I tie my hair up as we head to the top floor where our heavy artillery has been stashed for the better part of two hours. I’m glad to see everything where we left it, and quickly grab my gun, posting up at the door in case the shooter’s on our heels. 

“Loba, I need your eyes, we’ve got contact on the roof!” Rick barks, and immediately Jake and I switch places. It takes a few moments and a fair amount of cover fire for me to set up the sniper rifle, but once I’m ready, it takes only a second to lock on my target. The idiot is in plain sight, not bothering to hide his head or his weapon. He loses both with one shot, and another round of screams can be heard as his body falls off the building, face splayed open like an exploded watermelon. 

“Hey, that training course at DeVry really paid off!” Jake muses moments before taking his own target, a man sprinting up the stairs towards us. Jake’s shot sets off the grenade in the man’s hand and for a few seconds, we’re all left with ringing ears. 

“I’m good!” He calls, knowing the protocol and saving us all from having to call out for him. “Gonna need hearing aids when I’m forty, but I’m good!” 

“Pooh, focus!” Flip growls, his eyes trained on the market below, another round of shots fired at a seemingly-growing number of men who are all descending on our location. 

“We’ve gotta move. Ghost, meet us at the exfil, it’s too hot to stay.” I instruct, all the guys packing up our gear, ready to plow our way out with as many bullets as necessary. 

We bound tactically, using the market for cover and managing to get halfway to the exfil point without any injuries to our team. The truck we’re using to get out of town is in plain view, but in our way is an open strip of road with absolutely no cover. 

“Fuck. For once, I’d love it if command gave us something that went over 10 miles an hour.” Jake growls, hitting two more men as he speaks. 

“That thing is older than the queen.” Beef agrees, providing cover fire for Dom as he comes careening around the corner, his own gun empty of bullets. 

“We’ll take it up with command when we get back. Grump, go!” I call, pushing Dom in front of me, so that I’m the last in line. With Dom technically being head of our team, and me running as his second-in-command, it doesn’t bode well to have both of us open to fire. 

I watch as all of them make a break for the truck, each man dodging bullets and making it to the armoured vehicle safely. Each provides cover fire for the man after him, and by the time it’s my turn, I have six guys ready to kill any motherfucker who has the balls to let a shot off. 

“Loba, you’re a go!” Flip calls over the comms, and with one last look behind me, I start to sprint. 

Getting shot doesn’t register the way they show it in the movies. The pain doesn’t come right away, but rather, it feels like you’ve been burned by the edge of a frying pan. The warm wet sensation follows, making you wonder if you’ve got a sweating problem that could use some botox to remedy. It’s not until you slow down that your mind has time to catch up. I make it to the truck before I even notice the blood on my white shirt. 

“She’s hit!” Flip calls out, Rick gunning the vehicle in the opposite direction from the market, bullets pinging off the armour plating as we head further into the desert and, with any luck, back behind the wire. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” I mutter, adrenaline keeping the pain away and letting Benji and Max do their initial triage of my wound. 

“Step on it Rick, it’s a Kubrick movie back here.” Benji calls out, his pressure on the hole in my stomach coming off only long enough to let Max cut my shirt away. 

“Let me see, Scowl.” Max says sternly as I feel Jake position himself so that he can elevate my legs, everyone doing their part to help keep me alive. 

“Hey, look at me, Carmen. Sweetheart, listen, you’re gonna be okay, okay?” Dom says, and I see the fear in his eyes despite his smile down at me. His hands are warm as they card through my hair, unintentionally doing the opposite of what he wants me to do and making me want to fall asleep. 

I feel my body get lighter as more of my blood comes pouring out of my entrance wound and when Max and Benji roll me over to check for an exit hole, it’s as though I’ve been pushed out of the truck entirely. 

“Hey, Max. Promise me something?” I ask, smiling even though I can taste copper. 

“Anything you need, love.” He answers without hesitation, wincing as he digs a gloved finger into my stomach, trying to take hold of the artery that was nicked. With forceps held between his teeth, he struggles to find the bleed point, knowing he has only a few moments to clamp it off before I bleed out. 

“When we get out of here, you’ll meet a nice girl and let her take your virginity.” Though they’re all panicked, my request makes the boys laugh, and eases the tension in the truck, if only for a moment. 

“I promise.” I think I catch a look between him and Dom, but as things begin to darken around the edges of my vision, I chalk it up to a hallucination from lack of blood flow. 

“Stay with us, babe. Come, stay awake,” Jake’s voice shakes as he jostles my legs, he and Dom wearing  the same look, one I know means they’re barely holding it together. 

“I’m gonna be…” 

Screams of ‘NO!’ are the last thing I hear before I can’t help but close my eyes. 

When I open them again, I’m met with late afternoon sun, plywood walls, and a weirdly sheer curtain that--as my eyes adjust--turns out to be mosquito netting. My head hurts, but as I move to bring my hands up to my face, I realize both of them are being held by much bigger ones. 

“Hey, bub.” I murmur, speaking as much to Dom as I am to Jake, both men so caught up in their own thoughts and tears that it takes them a moment to realize the voice they hear is mine. 

There’s a rush of joy that shoots through the room, hitting everyone and lifting their spirits. Everyone except Max, who stays in his seat, curled up by the window, tears silently streaming down his face. It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to know that I scared the hell out of them, and that I probably flatlined. It’s rare for the boys to cry; rarer still for them to look as shell-shocked and pale as they all do. 

I’m engulfed in careful hugs and kisses, all the boys taking their turn to show just how elated they are that I’m alive, and as they file out of the room, my attention once again goes to Beef. 

“Hey. C’mere.” I murmur, reaching out my hands, wanting a hug. What I get instead is a stuttered sob, a keen wail, and Max looking surprisingly hurt. 

“Don’t ever do that again, do you understand? Don’t--don’t make me w-watch you d-die.” His anger dissolves into fear and anguish, and my own vision blurs as he finally stands up and rushes to me, Max careful to avoid my injury, but still bear hugging me, his face buried in the crook of my neck. 

“I’m sorry, Beef. I’m sorry,” I murmur, stroking his hair and the nape of his neck. Just as with adrenaline, the shock and fear he’s feeling needs time to wear off, and crying is the best way to distill a good portion of it. Staying close and making sure I’m getting better over the next couple of days will take care of the rest. 

Kissing his cheek tenderly, I hold him until his tears subside and he pulls back to wipe them away. He gives me a wet smile, one that nearly starts my own waterworks, and sits down, taking my hand. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” He asks, kissing each of my knuckles gently. 

“Making you promise to get laid.” I answer bluntly, the look on his face enough to nearly make me rip my stitches with laughter. 

We spend the rest of the afternoon celebrating the lives of our friends the way a military funeral would never permit; food, booze, and music. By the time the sun starts to set, we’re all a little toasted, both from the booze and the cloudless skies. I make my way into the shower to cool off and wash off the saltwater from Rick’s pool, smiling when I feel Dom’s presence behind me. Having spent the afternoon teasing me, it’s no surprise that he’s making good on his promise of bunking up together. 

Untying my bikini as I walk into the see-through shower, I can’t help but laugh when Dom turns on music that’s only good for making fantasies come true. With a heavy bass line, and rhythms that remind me of Carnival, it’s clear what he’s silently asking for, and I’ve never been one to deny Dom anything. Getting good and soaked under the spray, I shake my hair out and begin to dance, rolling my hips and shaking my ass in time with the beat. It’s not the first time I’ve given Dom a show, but it’s the first time we’ve been in a position where he can reciprocate at the same time, and much to my excitement, I watch as he slowly takes off his board shorts and lays down on the bed, showing off in a way he knows will drive me mad. With every muscle outlined by the vivid hues of the sunset, he looks like Apollo and my body responds instantly the moment his hand goes to his already-hardening shaft. Dom strokes lazily, in no rush to cum despite the show in front of him, and I groan, knowing I’m in for a long, amazing night. 

The song switches over and I continue, making good use of the fog-proof glass to make sure Dom sees exactly what he’s doing to me. Nipples hard, and skin goosebumped, I slowly bend over, smiling when I realize just how quickly he’s gotten to me. There’s no mistaking the wetness between my legs for water, and Dom sits up slightly the moment he notices, his cock jumping in his hand. Keeping my legs spread, I slowly roll my hips, allowing him one last look before I shut off the water and step out, dripping head to toe. A quick towel off only so I don’t soak the bed is the only respite Dom gets before I’m crawling over the bed and bending down to take his cock into my mouth. His sigh of appreciation makes me preen and I don’t hesitate in making his cock disappear in my mouth, smiling around his length when I hear the sound of surprise follow quickly after. 

Sex between us is never neat and tidy, and there’s a solid chance we’ll have to launder the sheets in the morning as I continue licking and sucking, making a mess in the process. Dom’s hand slides through my wet strands and I brace myself for the inevitable push down, relaxing my throat and focusing on the weight of his cock on my tongue. 

“Jesus fuck, Carmen!” Dom growls out, his eyes catching mine as I pull away from his length with a gasp for air, a mess of his precum and my spit still connecting us. I squeal when Dom yanks me up for a passionate kiss before immediately throwing me down in his previous spot. My hips are in the air before I know it, and I cry out when I feel his warm lips devouring mine, his beard tickling my inner thighs in a way that sends sparks all the way up my spine. 

My feet slide down his powerful back as he eats me out with a voracious hunger, Dom making toe-curling noises as he does so. There’s no denying we enjoy each other’s bodies as much as we enjoy a five-star meal, and it’s all I can do not to cum when I see the look of utter hunger in Dom’s eyes. 

“Get inside me, please!” I beg him when I feel myself nearing the edge, wanting him to pull out all the stops and take me like the wild animal I know hides just beneath the surface. A wink is all the response I get before I’m once again weightless, Dom putting me on my stomach and pulling my ass up high before standing into a squat on the bed. There’s no need for a warm up thrust with how wet we both are, and I scream in absolute delight as he slides in hard. 

“Oh, Dom!” I mewl, giving myself over completely as he starts an intense rhythm, his cock coming nearly all the way out before slamming back inside until his hips are flush with my ass. Neither of us are particularly quiet, but as I feel his heavy sac slap against my clit on every push of his hips, I can’t keep quiet even if I tried. 

Dom knows exactly how to work his hips to hit all the sweet spots inside me, and before long, I’ve gone non-verbal, only able to squeak and moan as I clutch the sheets like my life depends on it. Catching a glimpse of us in the mirror only serves to make my eyes roll back, as the contrast of his power against my curves only makes things hotter.

He pulls me up higher, and before I know it, I’m in the pile-driver position, looking up at his tall frame as he jackhammers into me with reckless abandon. Mouth open in a silent scream, all I can do is watch my body stretch to accomodate his girth, each stroke making me wetter and wetter, ever closer to the edge. 

With a change in angle, Dom’s thrusts start hitting my g-spot with bullseye-like precision, and I lose all control. Trembling head to toe, I try to beg him to make me cum, but all that comes out are whimpers and moans. He understands though, picking up the pace and fucking into me harder than before, wanting me to go first, as always. 

I lose all control and see stars for a moment as I squirt all over his cock and lower abs, Dom continuing to fuck me through every wave of pleasure. When he stills, I focus my attention on him, watching as he begins to empty himself inside me, the heat from his cum radiating with every shot that fills my pussy. 

“Carmen!” Dom barks out as his own body goes through a series of shivers in time with each pulse of his cock. Finally, when the haze of cumming has cleared a bit, Dom moves me one last time until we’re laying spooned together, his cock still lodged deep inside me. 

“That never gets old,” he chuckles, one hand slipping down between my legs to play, Dom knowing full well I’m gonna need a few more rounds before I’m anywhere near ready to fall asleep.

#pablo schreiber #henry cavill #adria arjona #pablo schreiber x ofc #henry cavill x ofc #ryan reynolds #alexander skarsgård #joel kinnaman #alex o'loughlin #fic #deathonyourtongueoriginals #resurrection

[johnnys-green-pen]

Quick FAQ

Just a super quick interlude because I’ve actually been asked a couple of things since I’ve started this blog, and I might as well collect all of that in one place. This FAQ can now also be found at https://johnnys-green-pen.tumblr.com/faq

Q: Who are you? A: I usually go by Guardy. I’m 24 years old, German, and have been active in various fandoms since 2006 or thereabout. I’m always at least a decade late to everything and am very much used to my fandoms being half a dozen stragglers, lil’ old me, and a lone tumbleweed in the distance. I’m currently waiting for my BA in English and German studies to be finalized, my studies mainly focused on Literature and Cultural Studies in both subjects, with a big dash of language history in German as well. Wrote my BA thesis on Dracula and Varney the Vampire and the concept of the Other in vampire fiction, so I actually do have something of a background in analyzing media... not that it shows, lol.  (I also have adhd and my short-term memory sucks, so if I ever don’t reply to messages or don’t reblog something that’s obviously relevant/I was tagged in, I probably forgot and will be grateful for a reminder. I don’t think I’ve ever ignored somebody on purpose, but between me being hilariously scatterbrained and tumblr eating asks sometimes, stuff can get lost)

Q: How did you even find this show? A: Saw it mentioned on TV Tropes, though I have no idea what initially made it stand out amidst the thousands of other things I scroll across on there all the time. Decided to give it a try because I’m a sucker for media history, old TV shows, 70′s fashion and vintage tech, and stuck with it because the show’s remarkable in a lot of ways and also has an incredibly lovable bunch of main- and supporting characters. 

Q: How do you do your screencaps? A: I’m using VLC media player for my screencapping; I take several dozen screencaps per episode, liberally using the pause button and going through scenes frame-by-frame if necessary. Only a handful of caps an episode make it to tumblr. My total number of screencaps taken as of S2E17 is 2,788, which averages out to about 96 screencaps an episode; probably around five or six on average actually get posted.  Whenever possible, I use the German DVD box set for my screencaps because they’re slightly higher-res than the single-season American box sets: 720x540px as opposed to 636x480px. My screencaps are generally not edited in any way, just carefully curated.

Q: How do you do your gifs? A: Photoshop CS5; importing video as frames, gently polishing the colors (though I generally try to keep my touch-ups subtle), resizing to either 540p or 268p wide, exporting. I try to keep them under 3 MB so tumblr doesn’t compress them.

Q: How do you do your art? A: Beats me, lol. Okay, more helpfully: Been drawing for a bit over a decade. I’m currently using an XP-Pen Deco 02 graphic tablet, and usually Clip Studio Paint as a software, though I’ve done art using everything from Microsoft Paint to Corel Painter and Photoshop (and, quite frankly, preferred MS Paint). 

Q: Can I use [thing I posted]? A: Probably yes, within the constraints of general fandom rules (so, yknow, don’t try to make money off of them or something? Fandom common sense applies, basically).  Screencaps and Gifs: just take ‘em and spread the fandom love. Credit is always appreciated, mostly because it saves me the guessing game of “are those mine or not”, but definitely is not necessary for those. That also means that you CAN definitely post gif sets using my gifs if, for instance, you want a collection of adorable Johnny expressions instead of gifs sorted by episode.  Analyses and potential fics: Quote as much as you want, though if you want the whole thing, please link to my posts or reblog them instead of reposting (and if you do want to repost the whole thing for some reason, please ask first), and please do credit me for that stuff. Also yes, there will hopefully be fanfic at some point. Art: please ask first - I don’t bite, and I’ll likely say yes, but art takes a lot of work, and I like knowing where it ends up and having some control over it.

Q: Can you do [E!-related thing]? A: Probably! I can definitely do screencaps, analyses, gifs, fanart, fanfic and also all sorts of video editing, and am always open to requests... even though I can’t guarantee anything, and they may take a while to go through, especially if I have to figure out how to make something work first (... one of these days I’ll learn how to make gifs with readable subtitles and get my “to gif” list worked off). 

#penworks

[envyire-a]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

My muse is:   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom?  YES / NO. ( Yes & No. She was a fan favorite more than anything. )

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK.

Are they underrated?  YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO. ( Again yes & no. Subjective. )

Were they relevant for the main character?  YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO.

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon?  — As much as possible but I am a strong believer in coming up with your own inference based on the character. Like if you muse doesn’t like blueberries canonically; but give no reason as to why-- coming up with a reason gives you Headcanon freedom and lets your personalize a canon muse.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.  —  So Nel the sweetest badass ! She has strong opinions on fighting and can back up anything she says. If she says she can-- she will ! With all the elegance and grace a goat™ can have. Also strong female muses usually get looked over bc tumblr is predominantly homosexual males. ( Don’t @ me )

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).  —  Nelliel could be difficult to write with outside of the Bleach™ fandom. She also could be viewed as strict towards strangers or even verse dependent-- as she is drastically different depending on the time period she is met in. Again, thats where headcanons can help fill in the blanks.

What inspired you to rp your muse?  —  I’ve had Nelliel as a muse since 2014-- she & Rozu ( formally known as Eros ) are my oldest muses. 

What keeps your inspiration going?  —  Honestly-- the fandom. There are a few blogs that keep the fandom alive and portray their muses so EXCELLENTLY. BRILLIANTLY. BEAUTIFULLY. @despairforme​ , @skyvar​ , @sphaeraa​ ( & many more )

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO.

Do you frequently write headcanons?  YES / NO. ( I used to-- before I stopped writing her. But I will get back to it ! )

Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES / NO.

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day?  YES / NO.

Are you confident in your portrayal?   YES / NO.

Are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO.

Are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO.

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?  —  Absolutely ! Most of us do it for fun and as long as you keep in mind people aren’t usually malicious, criticism can build up your blog to be more polished.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?  —  Who doesn’t ? A lot of times I end up asking them myself and they end up being a headcanon.

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?  —  Only if they write the same character-- and just to get their take on it. 

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?  —  I understand, My portrayal  may not be for everyone and that’s okay because I am not the only one who writes this muse. They may find someone else who suits their tastes more. 

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?  —  A muse hating another muse is totally cool. Hateship dynamics are totally underrated ! But as far as a mun hating my character-- Why do you still follow? Find something that you like dawg. 

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?  —  Yes. There is  a language barrier for me and I usually write at night when I’m dead tired. So I’ll write had instead of has and sound like a 3 year old. 

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?   —  Yes ! Please approach me. My main muse is a bit intimidating but I promise I’m not as bad. :) See, friendly smiley face. 

That’s about it, congrats for filling out!

Tagged by:  Made by ❤˚ •  @skyvar​  Tagging: -- Anyone who wants to do it-- But you should really follow those who are tagged. Just saying. 

#『 ☾ 』║ 𝖎 𝖆𝖒 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖑𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝖎 𝖆𝖒 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖉 ; * NEL #Long post #skyvar #despairforme #sphaeraa

[thequarrelsome]

— 8 PEOPLE I’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER !!

( repost, don’t reblog. )

ONE ( NAME / ALIAS ): glowy, glow worm, glow, whatever strikes your fancy TWO ( BIRTHDAY ):   24th July THREE ( ZODIAC SIGN ): cancer FOUR ( HEIGHT ): 5′6″  FIVE ( HOBBIES ): writing, reading, video games, photoshop and between those procrastinating SIX ( FAVOURITE COLOUR(S) ):  mint i’d say SEVEN ( FAVOURITE BOOKS ): lisey’s story by stephen king, tbh witcher saga by andrzej sapkowski, rules of attraction by bret easton ellis, trainspotting by irvine welsh, silmarillion by jrr tolien so give me fricked up thriller or fantasy, no inbetween EIGHT ( LAST SONG LISTENED TO: ): uuh... likely a walk the moon song NINE ( LAST FILM WATCHED ): rewatched venom yesterday TEN ( INSPIRATION FOR MUSE ): idk lambert just... grabbed me, maybe because i felt kinship (not on the side of being an asshole though i’ve been there in the past), but coming out of abuse rough and angry and struggling to find yourself but he was just love at first sight it was magic ELEVEN ( DREAM JOB ): author, working on my first novel so... i hope it won’t be a flop TWELVE ( MEANING BEHIND YOUR URL ): it was the descriptor for lambert in the world of the witcher i think, and what can i say it fits. i tried to go more authentic and thinking about just translating it to polish but... idk this has been my brand since i started this blog over three years ago and i’m attached.

Tagged By: @mercysought <3

Tagging: anyone who’d like to do it! most people have probably been tagged already

#ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵘᶜᵏˢ ( ooc. )

[isearchgoood]

How to Stop Overthinking Your Marketing And Do The Work 5x Faster | FAST Business Growth - An Information Blog

How to Stop Overthinking Your Marketing And Do The Work 5x Faster | FAST Business Growth

►Subscribe: https://goo.gl/ScRTwc to learn more secret SEO tips. Find me on Facebook: https://ift.tt/2313ZvR Read more on my blog: https://ift.tt/34OrSx5 to Stop Overthinking Your Marketing And Do The Work 5x Faster | Do you feel you're spending a lot of time on your marketing and not getting much done? After 40, even 60, even 80 hours of just working on your marketing each and every week, just feel you're putting in so many hours, but you're not getting a ton of results. Well, we're about to fix that today. Today I'm going to teach you how to stop overthink your marketing and how to do your work five times faster. RESOURCES & LINKS: ____________________________________________ Ubersuggest - https://ift.tt/2Cs1r2d Hootsuite - hootsuite.com CovertKit - https://convertkit.com Hello Bar - https://ift.tt/1iqzQkX ____________________________________________ Now you probably overthink your marketing if: A. You're trying to be perfect. B. You're polishing up graphics. C. You're polishing up your social media, text-based content or copied. D. You're getting sad when your content piece doesn't perform. It's just an indicator that you need to try another approach. So, let's go over how you can work five times faster and more effectively. The first thing you need to do is breakdown the overwhelming projects into baby steps. In marketing, there's a lot of things that take time, but they can be broken down into baby steps. For example, when it comes to SEO, there's link building, there's writing content, there's promoting the content, there's things like cross-linking, there's on page SEO, you can break them all into small bite size chunks. When you break it down, write it on a paper as if, hey, here's what you have to do for this day. Or here's what you have to do for this task. And what I like doing is writing it down on paper or creating tasks and breaking it all into bite size chunks and ideally try to make them small enough where I can complete something within 30 minutes to an hour at the latest. The next thing I want you to do is allows think about why you're doing a certain activity. Do you really need to do it? See, sometimes we're slaves to our own list. We have all these actions in our to-do list, we're like, all right, we're going to go do this today and we break it all down, but are some of these things even important? Well, if they are, you should be doing them. If they're not, you know, double check with yourself like, "Hey, is this actually going to move the needle?" If it's not going to move the needle, then don't do it. It's not put it on the sidelines, I'm talking about don't do it at all. The next thing you want to do, identify and focus on activities that have caused the majority of your results so far. It's a 80/20 rule, right? The Pareto Principle, in which, 20% of the stuff you do will produce 80% of the results. You know, it's so funny, I talk with a lot of my sales guys and their just like, "Yeah, closing all these deals. "I'm on the phone, I'm following up with everyone" and I'm like, "You're following up with too many people. "Why don't you focus on the right accounts "that are going to make us the majority of the money." The same goes with your marketing efforts. Look at what has the biggest impact, focus on that. That 80% of the stuff that you're spending your time on produces the least amount of results. Next, I want you to outsource the lowest level activities in your business. Whether that's creating graphics for Instagram or graphics for Facebook, or LinkedIn, or whatever it may be. Or editing your videos, or optimizing your title tag. There's a lot of basic stuff that you're probably spending 10, 15 hours on that you could have other people help you out. Next, I want you to start creating processes. When you have a process in place and it could be in a form of checklists that someone has to do all these things in order to get this specific action, then what you'll find is people will be much more efficient. Then, I want you to create as much content as possible in batches. Whether it's text on social media, quotes for images on social media, podcast, for example my marketing school podcast, we tend to record roughly 15 episodes in a two to three hour chunk. Last, but not least, I want you to repurpose more of your content. Turn your blog post into social media quotes. Heck, you can even take your blog post and repost them on social media. Use image captions, video captions, right? Turn your blog post into outlines for videos. ► If you need help growing your business check out my ad agency Neil Patel Digital @ https://ift.tt/2Kiwn8k ►Subscribe: https://goo.gl/ScRTwc to learn more secret SEO tips. ►Find me on Facebook: https://ift.tt/2313ZvR ►On Instagram: https://ift.tt/2ZVz8Z1 https://youtu.be/o2fUCKgi25k #SEO #NeilPatel #DigitalMarketing Related Posts Go To Home Page Traffic From Google Without Backlinks November 7, 2019 at 04:45AM via Blogger https://ift.tt/34yU8n0 #blogger #bloggingtips #bloggerlife #bloggersgetsocial #ontheblog #writersofinstagram #writingprompt #instapoetry #writerscommunity #writersofig #writersblock #writerlife #writtenword #instawriters #spilledink #wordgasm #creativewriting #poetsofinstagram #blackoutpoetry #poetsofig

#Youtube

[deathonyourtongue]

Resurrection | 5

Summary: A ragtag team of Spec-Ops operators are brought out of retirement for all the wrong reasons. When the dust settles, only the best will be left standing. Pairing: Pablo Schreiber x OFC, Henry Cavill x OFC (listen, she gets with the whole team, okay? Don’t lie, you would too.) Word Count: 2K Warnings: Waterboarding. Dream sequence involving death and gore.  A/N: I’m reposting this for a few reasons. Mainly ‘cause I’m done having my fics in two places, wanted to re-work the cover, and most importantly wanted those of you who weren’t following me back when these chapters were originally posted to be able to take it in from scratch. I’ve also cleaned up a lot of the text as far as grammar, etc. goes, so it’s more polished.  ***ALSO: All the Portuguese translations are found in the links (read the address bar or the error that comes up when you click the link)*** Like what I do? Buy me a coffee (or a commission)!

C H A R A C T E R  C H A R T

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

_______________________________________________

Send me a PM me if you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list!

@fumbling-fanfics @skiesfallithurts @pinkpenguin7 @madmedusa178 @fangoria @bluestarego @my–own–personal–paradise @tastingmellow @honeychicanawrites @angelicapriscilla @swiftyhowlz @schreiberpablo @pinkwatchblueshoes @kirasmomsstuff @prettypascal  @playbucky @queen-of-the-kastle@cajunpeach @godlikeentity @captainsamwlsn @lilac-tea-time @katerka88 @melaninmimii @alienor-romanova @downtowndk @redhairedmoiraandtheliferuiners @agniavateira @henryfanfics101 @fatefuldestinies @iloveyouyen @justaboringadult @xxxxxerrorxxxxx @bloodyinspiredfuck @peakygroupie @stxphmxlls @trippedmetaldetector @radaofrivia @speakerforthedead0 @oddsnendsfanfics @snowbellexx @leilabeaux @cavillunraveled @woofgocows @andahugaroundtheneck @sofiebstar @kmhappybunny @mary-ann84 @cappot @cheyentjj @cavillhavoc @sleepy-moon-girl@princess-of-riviaa @peakyrogers @hell1129-blog @thethirstyarchive @worldicreate @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @henry-cavill-obsessed @rmtndew @elena-lawley @bichibibi @penwieldingdreamer @scoopitypoopbloop @flightofthefantasies @justrae9903 @raspberrydreamclouds @minton131 @hollydaisy23 @mizzzpink @omgkatinka @rn7rocks @elenas-fanficrecs @ohjules @writernerd23 @whatawildone @toss-some-coffee-to-your-witcher @modernscarlett @jasmindaughteroftheworld @badoopwoop @onlyhenrys @moderapoppins @flouncingxtart @ffreadings @captaingothgirl1996 @schmidten17 @alexakeyloveloki @asylummara @dearlybelovedluke @pinkzsugar @valkyrhys @ntlmundy @livingonmywishes @thotti3evans  @whitewolfandthefox @madbaddic7ed @sausagefest1996 @foxyjwls007 @fuckoffbard @bethabear12 @lovieebby @marswritings @mooniiieee @traceyaudette @pumpkinglory @keiva1000 @my-rosegold-soul @geralt-of-baevia @luna-aestas @thereisa8ella @lovefreylove @littlefreya @designedacertainway @worshipping-skarsgard @aletheladyinred @sugarpenchant​

Gone are the suits and ties, and my heels are replaced by combat boots. 

The safehouse we use for interrogations is across town from the one we stay at, and it shows. Far from the posh of Knightsbridge, Dagenham is home to the largest diesel engine manufacturing site in the world. Soot and oil coat everything and at night, the area is a ghost town; perfect for our needs. 

On paper, all the governments in the room condem torture, but work in the business of terror long enough, and you know that’s all just to save face and keep the top brass’ hands clean. We’re not animals about it of course, but if Miguel wobbles a little in his seat, it’s only because we let Max drive and London roads are so winding.

“You know...We don’t technically have to take the bag off his head.” Flip murmurs, breaking the silence we’ve all been in since getting Miguel settled into his new surroundings. 

“You’re absolutely certain he’s never seen you, darling?” Max asks me, his face set in concentration. The rest of the team look up for my answer and I nod. 

“Positive. Besides, bag or no bag, if he knew me, he’d have recognized my call sign by now,” I remind them, relief shooting around the room as all the men recall that Miguel was privy to any conversation we had in the car, call signs included. 

“Alright. Who’s going in with you?” Rick asks, finally moving from his position against the wall and taking a seat next to Flip who looks all too eager to get a crack at our soon-to-be informant. Knowing he’ll be a liability if he reads the tone wrong, I look around, my gaze resting on Max as I smirk. 

“Beef. I owe him for nearly taking his head off earlier,” I answer, both Dom and Rick nodding their understanding. Flip looks somewhat crestfallen, but I know he understands. He, of all of us, is too close to the situation, and though I know there’ll be a time to turn him loose, this isn’t it. 

Max and I both stand from our seats, checking our handguns as we move towards the blast door that separates us from Miguel. Taking a moment, we focus our gazes on eachother, silently getting on the same page so that there’s no chance of Miguel thinking one of us is weaker than the other. 

With a nod to each other, I take a deep breath and open the door. Padded on the inside in order to mitigate any screaming or loud music we might use throughout our interrogations, the room is graveyard silent. Once the door shuts, Max moves with precision, turning the stereo on full blast, and I can’t help but smile at the song that comes on. While all of us are metal fans, it’s one of the most effective interrogation tools we have because those in the hot seat usually either haven’t ever heard metal before (and are immediately disturbed by it) or despise it to the point where they can only tolerate so much. EDM comes a close second, but in Miguel’s case, Metal is the right call as he flinches immediately. Catching Max’s eye, we can’t help but grin as we mouth along to the lead singer’s screaming, the song’s lyrics about lying and choking oddly appropriate for what’s about to happen. 

I headbang along with the double-bass as I grab a five gallon jug of water, hoisting it over my shoulder and letting Max handle the towels as we set things up. When everything’s ready, Max moves into position, arms crossed over his broad chest, his trademark scowl firmly in place. 

I count to three with one hand, and on ‘one’, pull the bag from Miguel’s head, immediately tipping his head back and holding it in place with my forearm as I dilate his eyes. Max and I both stay out of his line of sight for the few moments it takes for the drops to work, and once we see the tell-tale squint, we slowly move to our places. 

“Miguel, ta com cara que tá com sede, meu amigo.” I open, one eyebrow raised, staying just far away enough to be little more than a faceless blur to our informant. 

“Vai se foder!” He yells, trying and failing to get out of the restraints he’s in. 

“Ah, que isso, cara. Não fique assim. A gente só quer falar com você,” I purr, playing the “Nice Girl” routine even though everyone in the room knows it won’t last long. 

“Certo, é por isso que vocês me capturaram, colocaram um saco na minha cabeça, e me levaram a Deus sabe onde. Falar, uma ova!” 

“Já aprendeu Inglês, seu cafajeste?” I ask him, hoping he’s picked up a second language since the last time any of our governments dealt with him, more for the rest of the team’s sake than my own.

“I have,” he says, his accent nearly a perfect facsimile of anyone who’s been born and raised in London. Max’s eyebrow goes up in mild surprise, and if I know my team, the rest of them are all pressed against the two-way mirror, intent on listening now that they can understand. 

“Good, so we’ll do this in English, ‘cause fuck you,” I tell him in no uncertain terms, moving into his space so he can confirm that the woman he wanted to bang at the party is the same one who’s now holding his life in her hands. 

With everyone in the room discreetly mic’d up--including Miguel--there’s no need to turn down the music, and I use it to my advantage, wanting him as disoriented as possible so that he’s not focused on his words or the thoughts behind them.

“Three weeks ago, right here in London, two of our own were killed by a bomb that has your signature all over it. Wanna tell me who you sold that bomb to?”

Miguel laughs, a dry throaty sound that comes from too many cigars, and too much time around toxic chemicals; if one of us doesn’t kill him, I know for a fact cancer will get him in the end. 

“I sell bombs to many people. How am I supposed to remember who I’ve sold to a month ago, puta?”

I don’t have time to react as Max lunges in and connects with Miguel’s jaw in one of the most vicious right hooks I’ve seen him throw in a long time. 

“Talk to her like that again and I’ll dislocate the other side, y’cunt.” Max growls, teeth bared mere inches from Miguel’s face, leaving no room for interpretation of just how pissed he is. Without another word, Max takes Miguel’s face in his hand and relocates the joint he popped out, a scream coming from our informant as soon as he can open his mouth.

“See, Miguel, I’d like to think you’d remember, because this particular order had your initials on one of the plates, and I know you only do that when your order is for a single explosive device. Mass orders go through the factory, but the custom pieces, well...You’ve gotta take pride in your work, right?” I’ll give the man props, because if he’s searching for a lie, I can’t tell. His face stays unreadable apart from the discomfort from the light. 

I shoot Max a look just as the song switches over, and he nods. 

“Fuck this.” He barks, flipping a switch on the wall that immediately sends Miguel’s chair back into a 45 degree angle, the back legs hinged to the floor so he can never truly fall back, but feels  like he’s going to, just the same. With the lights directly in his line of sight, I can’t keep from smirking as I hear Miguel hiss and try to cover his eyes, the steel shackles on his wrists clanking loudly and only causing him more pain. 

“What is it, Miguel? Lights too bright?” I ask as I move to grab the first neatly folded towel from the pile. “Don’t worry, I got you.” 

Pressing the towel firmly against his face, I stand out of the way as Max pours the water from the jug. We both count silently in our heads, Max stopping at exactly the right number as I flick the switch to bring Miguel upright once more. 

Our informant coughs and sputters, screaming every vulgarity I’ve ever heard in Portuguese before spitting in our general direction. 

“THERE WAS NO NAME! IT WAS PURCHASED BY AN ENTITY!”

I roll my eyes, annoyed that a man who once gave up an internationally-wanted terrorist is now spewing bullshit about an entity. 

“So you sold your shit to a ghost? ‘That what you want me to believe?” I ask, feeling my own anger start to rise. I grab a fresh towel and Max and I repeat the process with surgical precision. It takes Miguel a little longer to cough up the water he’s swallowed, but when he’s finally able to speak, his voice is far more defeated. 

“Yes, in a manner of speaking. The entity I sold that bomb to is known as Cenere. I get a call with a location, date, and time for delivery. I get the specs sent via encrypted email, and when the time comes, I deliver, usually to a lock box in the middle of nowhere. That is all I know.”

Max looks at me and I know he’s itching to hit him again. I shake my head, squatting down in front of our informant so that he can see me clearly. 

“Is there anything else you want to tell us that may be important? For example, the location and date of the last delivery you provided for this entity?” I enunciate every word, my tone making it clear that I’ll be the one hitting him next if he tries to lie or get smart again. 

“L-last delivery was in Roma, by the Colosseum, a week ago.” He answers, still hoarse from inhaling water. 

“So whoever these people are, they’re planning another bombing,” I say, feeling the room behind me start moving; Rick and Dom looking up information, Flip packing our gear. We don’t have a lot of time. 

“Y-yes. The bomb that killed your amigos was delivered exactly two weeks before it detonated. That’s how they always do it.” Miguel adds, giving us an even narrower timeline to get to Rome. 

“Cut him loose,” I sigh, wishing Miguel could give us more to go on besides a location we’ll be getting to with zero prep time and even less information. 

Max moves towards him, a wolfish grin on his face. I close my eyes, knowing exactly what’s about to happen. 

“I sincerely hope someone strings you up by your balls and cuts them off with a piece of paper. This is for everyone you’ve had a hand in massacring. Especially my friends.” 

I don’t have to look to hear a few of Miguel’s teeth rattle to the floor. 

The room is starkly lit, the sickly blue tone reminiscent of a hospital. Empty aside from a plexiglass box filled with dirt and a pine-board coffin, there’s a feeling dread that emanates throughout the place. 

“Carmen? Carmen! Carmen, if you can hear me, you need to get me out. Get me the fuck out of here, Carmen. Carmen, please!! Please! I can’t-I can’t breathe! Carmen, don’t leave me here!” 

A heartbeat--elevated and distinct--couple with the sounds of hyperventilation to turn dread into pure fear. 

“CARMEN, PLEASE! I’M GOING TO DIE! DON’T LET THEM KILL ME!”

Something cuts through the air with a distinct zing, crashing heavily onto the floor. The box, the dirt, and the coffin are all sliced neatly, trapped almost perfectly between thick sheets of razor-sharp glass. All except the first slice, where the side of the coffin has fallen away, trapped at a skewed angle below the dirt. 

Rick looks like a fish out of water, gasping for breath, tears flooding his eyes. Despite being segmented like some primal experiment, every part of him still heaves with breath, organs pulsing with blood they no longer have, intact structurally despite being completely separated. 

“Carmen, please!” It’s a whisper now, the life going out of Jake’s eyes even as the tears sweep his face.

A long, low horn sounds, finalizing the horror that’s come to pass.

I wake screaming, tears pouring down my face. Not realizing where I am at first, I don’t even see the boys as I fight with my lap belt and haul ass out of the seat, vaulting over Dom’s legs and careening to the bathroom to throw up. It’s rare that I dream, but when I do, it’s never good. This one felt too real; felt like a message from a man I’m certain we buried. The room spins and I heave out what little is left from lunch earlier. When I’m certain there’s nothing left to get out, I sit back, sobbing. 

Once my breath stabilizes, I stand up and wash out my mouth, swilling the jet’s courtesy mouthwash before splashing cold water on my face. Stepping out of the small bathroom, I’m met with utter silence and four sets of eyes staring at me with concern. I can’t bring myself to tell them what I dreamt, and none of them need an intro into nightmares, as all of us, regardless of how little bloodshed we’ve seen, have them from time to time. 

Still feeling the panic in my throat, I decide against taking my old seat, not wanting to be caged in. Instead, I sit behind Dom’s aisle, resting my head against the cool plastic of the window and looking out, my mind reeling. What if the bomb isn’t what killed him and Benj? What if they suffered? What if-- I cut off my own mental processing, not wanting to go down the dark alleys of my mind, wiping my eyes to stem the flow of fresh tears. 

I feel a hand at my knee, and looking down, find Dom’s hand reaching back through the seats. Though he faces forward, it’s easy to tell what he’s doing, and I lace our fingers together loosely, taking the much-needed comfort of his touch. He gives my fingers a gentle squeeze, and I turn my face away further, not wanting any of the guys to see me like this.

#pablo schreiber #henry cavill #adria arjona #pablo schreiber x ofc #henry cavill x ofc #ryan reynolds #alexander skarsgård #joel kinnaman #alex o'loughlin #fic #deathonyourtongueoriginals #resurrection