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#there is no evidence that it makes any difference
nayziiz · 2 days
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Comfort Person | LN4
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her)
Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!
Masterlist
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Attending the McLaren gala marked a significant step forward in their relationship. For a whole year, they had carefully cultivated their love away from the prying eyes of the public, choosing to keep their affection shielded from the spotlight. Their social media presence, though scant, hinted at a deeper connection, evident through the occasional birthday mentions and celebratory nods to his triumphs on the racetrack.
But this gala was different. It was a statement, a declaration of their commitment, and a subtle unveiling of their love to the world. While their relationship had been an open secret among close friends and those within the inner circle of the Formula 1 world, this event would bring it to a broader audience.
For her, agreeing to attend the gala was both exciting and nerve-wracking. Stepping into the glamorous world of Formula 1, filled with its high-profile personalities and dazzling events, was a departure from her usual realm. She had only dipped her toes into this world on three occasions, each time experiencing the thrill of the races in Monaco, Belgium, and Silverstone. Yet, despite her limited exposure to the paddock, she found herself drawn to the adrenaline-fueled atmosphere and the magnetic pull of his passion for the sport.
Her demanding career imposed limitations on her ability to accompany him to every race and event, forcing her to carefully select which ones she could attend. Despite the constraints of her professional obligations, she was determined to be there for him in whatever capacity she could manage.
For him, her unwavering support transcended physical presence. Knowing that she would wake up in the early hours of the morning or stay up late into the night to watch his races brought him immense comfort and strength. Her dedication, even from afar, served as a source of motivation during the most gruelling moments on the track.
In the midst of the frenetic pace of the Formula 1 season, her steadfast encouragement provided him with a sense of grounding and reassurance. Whether she was cheering him on from the stands or sending him words of encouragement through late-night texts, her presence loomed large in his heart and mind.
Their relationship was built on a foundation of understanding and compromise, with each of them making sacrifices to support the other's dreams and aspirations. While her absence at certain events weighed heavily on her, she took solace in the knowledge that her love and support transcended geographical boundaries.
The day was a canvas of intimacy, each moment painted with tenderness and shared anticipation. As they lingered in her apartment, the world outside faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of them enveloped in a cocoon of affection.
Showering together was a dance of intimacy, the warm water cascading over their bodies like a gentle caress. He tenderly washed her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp with care and devotion. In that shared moment of vulnerability, their connection deepened, each touch speaking volumes of their love for one another.
As she dried her hair, she watched him with a soft smile as he meticulously shaved away the stray stubble, his concentration mirrored in the steady strokes of his razor. Even the simplest of tasks became moments to be savoured in each other's presence, the ordinary transformed into something extraordinary by the power of their love.
For him, the mundane rituals of getting ready took on new significance with her by his side. Every glance exchanged, every shared laugh, was a reminder of the profound joy he felt in having her as his partner. Her presence infused even the simplest moments with an electric energy, sparking excitement in his heart and a smile on his lips.
As he stood poised with the razor in hand, ready to rid himself of the faint traces of stubble that adorned his face, she intervened, her voice soft but determined.
“No, leave it. It looks hot, my love,” she said, her gaze lingering on him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. He paused, caught off guard by her unexpected request.
“But I thought you hated facial hair,” he replied, a hint of confusion tingling his words. A playful smile curved her lips as she stepped closer, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. 
“I've grown to love it because it's on you,” she confessed, her eyes sparkling with affection. He couldn't help but chuckle at her response, his heart swelling with warmth at her words.
“You're special, you know that,” he murmured, his voice laced with genuine admiration.
“Uh, huh. That's why you keep me around,” A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she teased him. He pulled her into his arms, unable to resist the urge to shower her with kisses. 
Lando couldn't help but chuckle as he left her in the bathroom to put the finishing touches on her makeup. With a playful grin, he made his way to the kitchen to retrieve some snacks before the event.
After a few minutes, he heard the soft tapping of her heels against the hardwood floors, signalling her emergence from the bedroom. He turned, almost instinctively, his curiosity piqued by the sound of her approach.
His breath caught in his throat as she sauntered past him, the fabric of her dark orange dress flowing around her like molten lava, casting a mesmerising glow in the dim light of the apartment. She looked radiant, her beauty captivating him in a way that never failed to leave him breathless.
As she disappeared into the kitchen, he couldn't tear his gaze away, his jaw dropping slightly in awe. She was stunning, more breathtaking than he had ever seen her before.
When she finally turned to face him, their eyes locked in an unspoken exchange of admiration and affection. In that moment, words seemed unnecessary as the intensity of their connection spoke volumes, filling the space between them with an electric energy that crackled with anticipation.
“Are you just going to sit there and gawk at me?” She asked, her tone light but teasing.
“Yes,” he replied without missing a beat, his gaze lingering on her with unapologetic admiration. A mock scowl crossed her features as she shook her head, a hint of laughter dancing in her eyes.
“Well, stop it. You look stupid. Go put on your suit before we're late,” she instructed, her voice tinged with playful admonishment.
After dutifully adhering to her request and donning his suit, Lando returned to the kitchen to find her engrossed in replying to a few messages. With a tender smile, he approached her from behind, his footsteps silent against the floor.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pressed a gentle kiss to her neck, the warmth of his lips sending a shiver down her spine. She leaned back into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she tilted her head to the side, allowing him better access.
In that moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them cocooned in a bubble of affection. His touch was a soothing balm against the chaos of the day, grounding her in the present and reminding her of the love they shared. As he lingered against her, his arms holding her close, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. In his embrace, she found solace and reassurance
“I can't wait to do this with you for the rest of my life,” Lando whispered, his voice filled with sincerity as he gazed into her eyes. A soft smile graced her lips as she met his gaze, her heart swelling with love for him.
“Me too,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper but resounding with a depth of emotion that echoed his own.
In that fleeting moment, the weight of their words hung in the air, binding them together in a promise of forever. It was a declaration of their love, a pledge to stand by each other through every twist and turn that life may bring.
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faeriekit · 3 days
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Despair of Your Discovery
Phic phight fill for @carelisswriting. I am so sorry.
(Relevant warnings are tagged below)
**********
“Oh my god,” Danny says, horrified. “That’s…oh my god.”
The plant looks very innocent amongst the rows and rows of lush green pots in Sam’s greenhouse.
It isn’t.
“You cannot tell anyone,” Sam hisses, and shoves the wicker harvest basket back over the bush, as if there was anyone safe to tell! “Not a word. Not a whisper.”
“This is bad. This is really, really bad.”
“I know!” Sam snaps, looking two steps away from a screaming freakout. “But what can I even do with it?!”
The answer seems obvious. “Get rid of it?!” Danny exclaims, throwing his arms out for additional emphasis. “Making sure there isn’t any evidence left??”
“By what, burning it?!”
Danny opens his mouth to affirm the obvious— only to realize there is another, equally as obvious problem with the usual method of extermination.
“...Put it in the trash?” Danny tries again, grimacing. He crosses his arms, taps his toes. “I mean. It’ll go out eventually.”
“And if someone sees it in the trash?!” Sam volleys back, eyes wide with furious distress.
Okay. There's a clear problem here. All they need is a solution.
Tucker wanders into the greenhouse; he probably found out that they weren’t in Sam’s room and figured out their second location pretty quickly. “Hey, Sam; hey Danny. I thought we were doing Doomed today?”
“We’re not,” Sam and Danny chorus.
Tucker frowns. His eyes go back and forth between them. “...Is everything good?”
“No,” Sam says, cutting off Danny’s: “Sam stole another plant from the school garden again.”
“Oh. Is that all?”
Sam throws herself over the wicker basket and grooooooooans.
“Apparently someone was experimenting,” Danny offers flatly. “It’s bad.”
“How can a plant be bad?”
Sam straightens herself up, makes dead-on eye contact, and lifts the basket.
“Is that WEED?!” Tucker yelps. Danny immediately darts over to slap a hand over Tucker’s mouth, and the basket gets slammed back on top of the plant.
“Don’t shout!”
“Shouting is merited!! Sam grew drugs!!”
“On accident!!” Sam shouts back, very, very pale. “They just left the sprouts in the garden shed without any light or water!! I had to do something!!”
“Saaaaaamm,” Tucker groans, which is pretty unmerited, considering that Sam is probably the person suffering the most here. “Sam, we have to do something!"
“I know, I know!!”
“We know you hate pesticides, but isn’t there…some kind of natural weed killer? Or something?” Danny tries, struggling to think it through. “You can’t hand-pull all your weeds in this greenhouse. It’s massive.”
Sam bites her lip. She doesn’t answer.
“Sam…”
“It’s a waste of plant life to kill it,” Sam whispers. Her two best friends groan out loud, angled in two different directions.
“Sam. It’s illegal. You’ve got to get rid of it.” Tucker’s logic is cold, and brazen.
“...Fine.”
The procedure for killing off a plant the organic way is apparently pretty simple; vinegar, salt, and sunlight. The plant is looking dead and crispy under the glow lights in Sam’s greenhouse in less than an hour; by tomorrow, it’ll be long gone.
“We can never tell anyone this happened,” Danny decides, for obvious reasons. Tucker nods solemnly.
Sam sniffles a little, mascara running. Danny gently rubs her back.
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rjchocobi · 1 day
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﹙🍃 𓂃 satan's right-hand man — lee haechan ! ﹚
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♡ . . . synopsis ; you've known lee donghyuck your whole life, admired him from afar for half as long and yet, why does it take a cross-major project to get you to properly interact?
♡ . . . pairing ; computer science major! haechan × multimedia major! reader
♡ . . . genre ; non-idol au, college au (? very inaccurate portrayal of the education system haha). a few curses flying here and there.
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“I don't think I can do it. There's way too many people around.”
You follow the tan-skinned target dressed in baggy jeans and a varsity jacket as he walks past your table, out of the cafeteria billowing murmurs of conversation. His brown hair flops down on his eyes, wired earphones making him oblivious to the world.
Or, in this case, you and your friend's schemes.
“Y/n, just breathe,” Gyuri chuckles, typing away on her laptop. “Most people here are too occupied with their own shit to care about yours.”
“Astounding analogy, truly,” you deadpan at the Literature major who shrugs, leaning back on the chair. The crop top you'd worn was sticking to your sweating back, uncomfortably so. “And sure, nobody would be curious as to why I'm walking up to the newly appointed captain of the soccer team. The last time someone asked him out, they went viral!”
“Hey, you're asking him out for an entirely different reason. Unless, you have a thing for bratty jocks with pretty faces?”
You couldn't stop the roll of your eyes. She was right, until you account for his soft brown eyes, tech nerd tendencies that came off as way too appealing than they had any business being and a presence that everyone heard yet missed when he wasn't around.
Oh god, you really were hopeless.
Gyuri pipes up next, looking away from the screen before her, “Also, it takes about five minutes to make it to the front gate. So, unless you have any other place in mind to ask him before the first game tomorrow, you should be running.”
The world screeches to a halt. Your eyes flicker to the wall clock, as you stand up immediately. “Shit, there's no way I'll make it to him before his usual bus leaves in these shoes!”
“Should I be concerned that you know his bus route?” Gyuri raises an inquisitive brow.
You muster your deadliest glare, grabbing for things and shoving them in your bag. “Don't make it sound creepy, weirdo. I used to take the same bus before we moved.”
“Eh, tomato to-mah-to,” Gyuri cocks her head. “Now, chop chop. You have precisely two minutes on the clock.”
Taking a deep breath, you try (and fail, evidently) to settle your stomach which had been dancing the tango on a loop for the whole day. “I'll see you later. And thanks for the coffee!”
Gyuri throws you double thumbs up. Whether in acceptance or encouragement, you don't have the time to figure out.
When you manage to stumble through the crowd going the opposite way, past the gates of your college campus and to the nearest bus stop, it's been nearly ten minutes. With your heart pounding against your throat, you scan the listing on your phone, “Let's see... Cheongpa 2GA, Cheongpa...”
“It got cancelled today. There was a big crash by the Hangang road.”
Your head shoots up at the distantly familiar voice, so fast that you're surprised you dodge a whiplash. He stands leaning against the pole upholding the overhead shade, a small smile on his face.
Inhaling sharply, you nod and speak after having reinstalled basic social skills. “Right. Uh, are there any other buses going the same way?”
“Not if you want to reach home past ten,” he muses. “I'll catch the next ride to the subway and take the train.”
The need to know why he was telling you this registered a little too late.
"Shouldn't you be looking for the Bogwang side buses, though?” he asks.
You nearly trip on the transition curb, going to stand beside him. “I'm visiting family in Cheongpa. Anyway, it's kind of weird that you know where I live, isn't it?”
He's still staring you down as he says, “Not as weird as you and your friend memorizing my schedules or tracking my hourly whereabouts.”
For the second time in the span of five minutes, you look up at him, finding the corners of his warm gaze crinkling with mirth. You feel your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I—”
One syllable doesn't make it out your mouth before he's humming in approval. About what, you're none the wiser. “Yeah, you guys are not as quiet as you may think.”
Humiliation burns red across the apples of your cheeks and creeps up your neck. If Lee Donghyuck had managed to overhear, how many other within earshot knew all about your business?
You settled for an indignant response. “Hey, it's rude to eavesdrop.”
Donghyuck chuckles, an airy sound but still low; lower than the pitches you know his laughter reached. “Or I just have really great hearing. So, what is it you wanted to ask me so badly?”
You catch up on the teasing lilt. “What if I say it's a love confession?”
Your flippant reply has him lose his cool for half a second yet you still consider it a win. He shoves his phone back in his pocket, “Doubt it. Setting aside the massive stroking my ego will receive, you don't seem like the type to lose your mind over asking someone out.”
“Touché,” You mumble, your next words put on hold due to the people near your surging forward as the next bus arrived.
Donghyuck walks forward, so at ease you think he had taken and discarded your conversation in the matter of seconds. Before your heart could drop to the depths of hell, he looks over in confusion. “You’re not coming?”
You follow him wordlessly, hanging around the back of the bus. Donghyuck stands near you, chuckling when he sees you're unable to hold onto the handlebars above.
“Too high for you?”
“Shut up before I stomp on your feet. I can assure you it hurts like a bitch,” you threaten and he thinks you look about as menacing as a kitten.
“Enlighten me then, Y/n. What made you stalk me on a Tuesday?” he asks instead, moving a little closer as the bus lurches forward.
Ignoring the zoo of butterflies in your gut, you sigh. “Remember the project that's supposed to be thirty percent of the semester's final grade? Well, my assignment goes way off my area of expertise."
He hums in acknowledgement, full lips parting in an 'o' of realization as he catches on. "And what do you expect me to do?"
Ever the overthinker, you translate that to him wanting nothing to do with this. You drop your head, eyes trained on the yellow wedges you'd put on for the day. It had given you nothing but blisters. That's what trying new things, going out of comfort zones get you—a reality check.
You voice is too small for your liking, "I was thinking of making a videogame. Nothing fancy, just the barebones of an interactive interface. I thought if I get a computer major on board, we could both submit the project and present different aspects of the process."
The split second of silence before he speaks is gut-wrenching. “Killing two birds with one stone. It's a smart idea.”
You glance up to see a leisurely grin on his face. Is it weird that the loosest definition of a compliment from him is throwing you into a spiral? Probably.
“So? Will you work on it with me?” you ask, all too eager.
He pretends to think it over, hand on his chin and everything. Then, “Say 'please' first.”
For a second, you're rendered speechless. “What?"
“What?” He blinks owlishly, parroting you. “If a cute girl asks nicely, maybe I'll agree.”
Your jaw slackens. “Lee Donghyuck, you are a menace to society.”
“Because I ask for my fair share? I see how it is.” He pouts mockingly, running a hand through his fluffy hair.
“You get to present the project, too! That's a fifty-fifty bargain unless you have a better idea for partner-work that assures you an easy A,” you cross your arms over your chest. You may be a hopeless case of anxiety and lackluster connections but you're not that desperate. And who does he think he is, anyway?
Donghyuck chuckles, head bobbing. “Not nearly enough. If I'm doing this, I want you to do two things for me.”
You nearly rethink your decision for even asking him in the first place. But acting like his personal errand girl is not worse than showing up to class with a half-assed project. “Nothing that entails me publicly making a fool out of myself more than I already do.”
He holds his hands up in surrender. “I won't ask for anything like that. Who do you take me for?”
You eye him up and down. “Right now? Satan's right-hand man.”
Donghyuck smirks, poking his tongue onto the inside of his cheek. “Alright, then. Satan's right-hand man says you must first ask him politely and second... go out on a date with him.”
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bisexualiteaa · 2 days
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Make-Up Sex
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Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)
CW: NSFW MDNI!! Rough sex, riding, Cooper getting tied up, p in v, p0rn w/o plot, irradiated cream pie x2, mention of needles, cursing, established relationship, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviance from show
AN: I’m really enjoying writing for asks! Thank you to those who have submitted any, my ask box is always open so feel free to send in more! I will do my best to get to them as I can, and to the Anon who asked for this one, I hope I did your ask justice! Enjoy our favorite cowboy getting tied up and railed. Save a horse, ride a cowboy y’all. 🤠 apologies if it seems rushed, I wrote it at like 2am and post this on my way to work 😭
Synopsis: Cooper Howard is one stubborn man, and after a while of getting on your nerves, you finally find a way to make him apologize.
He had been getting on your nerves all day. First instance was when you two were out scavenging after finishing a bounty hunt, your supplies were running a bit low after being out for three whole days longer than you’d anticipated. You were getting ready to shoot one of the bandits that managed to get a stray bullet to graze your cheek when he killed them before you could even get a chance. You evil eyed him as he said “ain’t fun havin’ your kills stolen from ya, is it sweetheart?” He asked, making you roll your eyes and give a groan as you sifted through the raider’s pockets for anything useful. No such luck. A whole three bottle caps, and a plastic fork. So you drug your feet as you both carried on towards home.
Second instance was when you both were surprised by some radroaches and radscorpions after opening the door to what looked to be a vacant rest stop to get supplies from. A few wasted bits of ammo later, you make it inside and he made fun of your screams for a whole two hours. “Ain’t afraid of raiders, needles, nothin’ but bugs” he would say as he’d laugh so hard he’d go into a coughing fit while your face burned bright red with anger and embarrassment as he’d use his inhaler.
The third instance was where you drew the line. He was sifting through his bag trying to find his canteen of water after not finding shit at the rest stop. “Motherfucker” he said to himself, upon not being able to find it or anything really to have to drink. So instead of asking, he just went into your bag when you were busy trying to scavenge more bodies, took yours and drank it dry without telling you, and you had at least three more hours on foot until you made it back to the settlement. So when you went to go get a drink of water, the horror and plain rage on your face when you felt that it was empty was immeasurable. “How in the fuck is this thing empty? I JUST filled it yesterday!” You said, turning to look at Cooper as you both walked and the look on his face was all you needed as an answer. “You drank all o’ my water? What ‘n the hell happened to your canteen?” You asked, your southern drawl becoming more evident the angrier you got. “Must’ve forgot it” he said, making you look at him like he just spoke a whole different language. “You forgot it?” you asked, wondering how in the hell the deadliest motherfucker in this wasteland was traveling with you and just forgot his water. “Oh you gotta be shittin’ me….You know what, I don’t even wanna know how you managed that. We’re almost back to the settlement, I’ll refill it when we get there” you said angrily, moving ahead of him a little to prove that he’d pulled the last straw on your patience.
When you made it back to your settlement and back to the place you called home, you organized all the supplies you’d gotten, (which wasn’t much) putting them where they all were supposed to go, refilling canteens of water, and changing into more comfortable clothes as night began to fall. It was around dinner time that Cooper finally noticed that he really managed to piss you off.
You’d hardly ever given Cooper the cold shoulder in the time you two had been together, he was married before so he wasn’t ignorant to what being given the cold shoulder meant, but Cooper Howard was a stubborn man, one set in his ways so when he feels there’s no need to do something, he will not do it. “You gonna sit here ‘n ignore me all night?” He asked, and all you did was cross your arms in response, making him shake his head. “I’ll take that as a yes, but we’ll see how long that lasts, ya always come around somehow” he said arrogantly, only adding fuel to the fire and he knew it, it’s just how he was. He was an asshole, he was when you met him and apparently that charm never fully left. He was partly right however which is what you didn’t want to give him credit for. Even when you were really mad at him, you always came around at some point. His mouth got him into a lot of trouble, but it also managed to get him out of it too, his charisma and smooth talking always landing with some kisses to open you back up or make up sex to help you forget. You never were the kind of girl to let good dick sway you out of being mad but it was attached to a man that cared about you in ways no one else ever did, so you supposed he was at least a good exception. “You’ll come ‘round when that ache sets in, when you realize your dainty lil’ fingers can’t do anything close to what mine do to you” he said by your ear as he stood up from the dining room table, working you up and trying to get you to sleep with him to forget about your anger, but just as he was stubborn, you were just as set in your ways too. Though he knew it was a tough decision for you, you’d both gone a whole two weeks out there in the wastelands collecting caps from bounties and scavenging for supplies without any time or a means to sneak away and be with one another, so you were both pent up and he knew it. It was half the reason for your attitude to begin with, although you supposed he likely knew that too.
You got up from the chair in the kitchen a few minutes after he moved to the bedroom, getting ready for bed. You stopped him as he’d just taken his boots off, finally ready to be on speaking terms again but they were your terms. “Here’s how this is gon’ work. You, are gonna lay on that bed, and let me fuck you like I hate you because right now, I am doing everythin’ in my power not to hate you, and you ain’t been makin’ that an easy feat” you said, your eyes looking straight into his as if you were staring right into his soul, if he still even had one. “Yeah? And what makes you think I’m just gonna let you get away with that, lil’ lady?” He asked in a condescending tone, making you chuckle. “Because I know damn well you’re as pent up as I am, so if you want any, and wanna get back into my good graces, this is how it’s gonna happen. And I will accept that as an apology for the shit you’ve done” you replied as you stepped closer, not caring that you had to look up at him when you spoke, the venom in your words was enough to prove the point you were trying to make. Your response making him huff a short, dry chuckle, impressed by how well you stood your ground, so he awaited your orders. “Now take your damn clothes off” you said, making him grin as he did as he was told, he could get used to you bossing him around like this. Your accent got a little thicker when you were mad, and the way you barked orders and told him what to do with a quip ready for whatever he had to say in response, he had to admit was a side of you he liked seeing more than he’d ever admit to. He shook his duster from his shoulders, then worked at his shirt as you pulled yours off and over your head, then moved to unclasp your bra and dispose of it on the floor, not caring where it went. Your eyes raked each other’s frame with almost visible tension as you stood a few feet apart from each other. Enough space to keep him from using his hands to get you to submit, but enough to also allow you to close the gap when you felt comfortable enough to. You both worked at undoing your pants, tossing them aside to be forgotten about until morning. “Get on the bed” you ordered, leaving the room to grab his rope from his saddlebag in the kitchen. When you returned, he noticed the item in your hands, giving you a wicked grin. “Gonna tie me up, sweetheart?” He asked in that condescending tone, making you chuckle as you tied his hands to the rungs of the bed frame nice and tight. Tight enough to keep him in place, not too tight to hurt too much, he was an asshole sure but he was still your asshole. “Sure am. Gonna need to earn the right back t’ touch me, and you ain’t earned it yet” you replied, straddling his lap as you ground your slick pussy against his cock. He gave a groan at the feel of you, watching as your hips moved against his to coat him in slick for when you’d line him up to your entrance. Key word there was when because you wanted to make this torturous. You moaned as you bucked your hips against him, his head bumping your clit as you used him for your own pleasure. “Think I could use you just like this. Mmm…make myself cum then leave you here achin’ for more” you threatened, running your hands along your figure and toying with your breast to tease him extra, hearing groans leave him each time your pussy would glide along his cock. “Now that ain’t very nice of you” he replied, making you grin. “Never said nothin’ ‘bout playin’ nice sugar. Still waitin’ for you to say you’re sorry” you responded, making him grunt as you continued to play with yourself and moan all sweetly. “I ain’t apologizin’, no need to” he said, making you click your tongue. “A shame, looks like you ain’t cummin’ tonight then” you said, continuing your movements as you got closer and closer to letting that knot snap inside you. He wanted- no he *needed* to feel your gummy walls wrapped around his cock, so the fact that you were using it in a way that couldn’t afford him that, was already working his nerves.
“What’s wrong? Don’t like what I’m givin’ you? Should be thankful I’m even touchin’ you with how mad you made me” you said, going a little quicker now with your movements so he tried focusing on that, focusing on the way your clit would bump that spot right under his tip over and over. So when you came from grinding against it rather than seating on it and *ruined*that chance of still getting to finish, he gave a disgruntled grunt.
“Aww what’s the matter? Did I stop somethin’?” You asked in a deeper, condescending tone that had his dick throbbing in need. He’d never seen this evil of a side of you before, but you had only just started. “Whatchya want Cooper? Go ‘head, tell me” you said, making him grunt. “Want you t’ shut up and ride me already” he said, making you chuckle before landing a harsh slap across his face, the sound of your hand meeting his cheek rang through the room. “You ain’t in the position to be givin’ orders sugar. I thought you had manners” you said as he turned and looked back at you, astonished one by the power behind that smack and two, by the tone you were getting with him. “I’ll ask you one more time, what’dya want me to do to you, hmm?” You asked, and knowing now what power you had behind just one of those smaller hands of yours, he relented. “Ride me, please” he grunted, making you smile and lay a soft kiss to his cheek to try and soothe where you slapped him. “See? Not so bad now is it? Now if ya just apologize, I’ll take some RadAway and let you cum” you said, and judging by the look on his face, you could say that wasn’t going to happen. “Fuck you” he spat, making you chuckle. “Oh I am gonna fuck you, don’t you worry” you said as you lined him up to your entrance, sinking down on him inch by torturous inch. You were having way too much fun with this, and he didn’t like that he couldn’t have his way for a change. His hips involuntarily bucked up to try and shove more of himself into your tight cunt, but you moved to where it wouldn’t happen, making him grip the bed frame where he was tied to. “Someone’s gettin’ antsy, best keep them hips steady if you want this to continue” you said, making him growl under his breath before giving a groan once you were fully seated on him. You gave a moan as his tip nudged the apex to your cervix, moving your hips back and forth to where you would get off, but not do much for him. He gave you an angry look that made you laugh. “What’s the matter honey? Ya asked me to ride you already, it’s what I’m doin’” you said, making him grit his teeth as he did his best to hold his bearings. “But I guess you were good and didn’t move after I warned you so I’ll throw a bone atchya” you said, moving up and down on him, earning a groan from him once more that mingled with the moans falling from your lips. “Fuck…” he breathed, making you chuckle and smirk in that bratty way that he wanted to fuck off your face already, but he couldn’t. Despite his expressions and reactions, he was enjoying this too much but he couldn’t let you know that.
“Mmm, Cooper…” you moaned sweetly as you bounced on his cock, his name sounded heavenly when it fell from your lips, he could hardly get enough of it. He watched as your tits bounced up and down with your movements, the way your thighs jiggled as you moved, god how he wanted to grip them so bad right now. To hold you down and buck up into you until your eyes were rolling back in your head and you were screaming, but this was your show to run. You picked up the pace a little bit, going faster and angling where his tip would brush against that sweet bundle of nerves deep inside. He felt the way your walls started to close around him, sucking him in each time you’d come down, and fluttering around him. You were close. You were so caught up in chasing that feeling that you almost missed what he said. “Fuck- ‘m sorry” he spoke softly, finally apologizing to you. “What was that? I don’t think I quite heard ya there” you said, making him grunt. He should have known that you would milk the shit out of this. “I said I was- fuck- sorry” he repeated, making you hum but it wasn’t enough, not yet. So you stopped. “Sorry for what?” You asked, and he didn’t seem very happy at the fact that you stopped moving all together when he was so close to cumming yet again. “Dammit, wadn’t sayin’ sorry enough? I fuckin’ apologized like you wanted” he snapped, making you slap him across his cheek once more, this one stinging a bit more because it landed in the exact same spot as the last one. Though the tingling sensation of pain never lasted very long, it was enough to make his dick throb while inside of you and he prayed you wouldn’t notice. “Lose the attitude before I hop off and take care of myself then leave you tied up here all night” you said, making him huff in response. “Fine” he replied gruffly through gritted teeth. “Good, now I wanna hear you say it. What are you sorry for?” You asked as you started your pace back up, making him groan again as your hips and ass slapped down against him harshly. “Sorry f’ bein’ an asshole” he grunted out. “And?” You asked, needing just a little bit more before you were satisfied. “And f’ makin’ you mad” he finished, and you were content with that. “Happy?” He asked, making you hum and pretend to contemplate if you were for a minute before finally answering. “Yeah, I’ll take that” you said, placing your hands on his chest as you bounced up and down on him once more, earning a relieved sigh from him. “Just like that sweetheart, fuck…” he groaned before you leaned down, pulling him into the first kiss you’ve shared in a day and a half. You moaned into it as you started to near your peak, finally able to chase it after all the time spent putting it off to deal with his attitude. “Gonna cum- Cooper…!” you moaned into the crook of his neck and that was his undoing. You hid your face into his neck as your walls squeezed him tight, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your legs shook as his hips bucked up into you, trying to work the both of you through your high as he pumped you full.
What he wasn’t expecting was you to keep moving, earning an almost pained groan from him as you ground yourself against him. “I never gave you permission to cum inside me” you stated, apparently he wasn’t out of the dog house just yet. He was plotting how he would get you back for this on another day, how he’d wreck you and make you remember just who it is you’re doing this to. You smirked as you had the wonderful idea of giving him a taste of his own medicine. “Perk about it bein’ a minute? I can go all night” you teased as you set that steady pace once more, needing more, needing to feel him after being so long without. His hands gripped the bed posts, white knuckled as he hissed through his teeth from the overstimulation. “You are one evil woman, ya know that?” He asked playfully, making you chuckle. “Don’t act like you don’t fuckin’ love it” you replied, and he certainly couldn’t argue with you there, not when it felt this good. “You can give me one more, can’t you sweetie?” You asked in a sickly sweet tone, using the same line he’d always use on you anytime he’d overstimulate the hell out of you just to see the faces you make and hear your moans. He recognized that line, making him grunt and groan as you moved your hips. “Fuck…” was all he could get out, mind foggy of any thoughts, just how good your walls felt as they massaged his dick. Maybe he should piss you off more often. “Look at those pretty faces, you like this, don’t you?” you asked, making him damn near whimper at your tone and he never does that shit. You gave an evil laugh at the pathetic sound. “Oh you sweet thing, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you” you said, leaning down and biting into his shoulder as you picked up the pace a little bit, earning a lewd groan from him. You laved your tongue over the spot, watching it heal instantly before sitting back up, fully seating yourself on him. You reached behind you to cup and fondle his balls, moving your hips back and forth to grind your clit against him to both work you to your end. “C’mon baby, give it to me. I can tell you’re almost there” you said, making him tilt his head back at all the feelings you were giving him, it was too much yet not enough all at once and it was torture. Your free hand came to his cheeks, pulling his head down to face you. “Eyes on me” you ordered, and his eyes looked into yours for a moment before flitting down to where your bodies were connected, giving a groan when he’d see himself disappear and reappear slightly and the way his cum was sticking to your thighs and his lower stomach. “Cooper…” you moaned softly once more, that was almost always your sign, the way you’d sigh his name so deliciously paired with your walls milking him for everything he could give you drove him mad. “Cum with me honey” you pleaded, and felt as his hips bucked up into you three or four times before you both were sent over the edge once more, a cacophony of moans slipping from both of you as he spilled inside of you and you came on his cock.
After laying there for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful after glow of your orgasms, you sat up, accidentally seating yourself fully on his dick again and he gave a pained groan. “Not again…” he whined, making you laugh as your hands came to the rope binding his wrists. “Relax, I’m just undoin’ ya. I’m mean, but not that mean” you said through giggles. “You okay though? I know I was really rough but I didn’t go too far…did I?” You asked skiddishly, a complete 180 of the attitude you had just moments ago and it made him laugh. “Wasn’t expectin’ it outta you sweetheart but I’d be a damn liar if I said I didn’t like it. I’m alright, you did good” he assured, making you relieved as you laid on top of him, littering his lips, cheeks, neck, shoulder, and chest with kisses as his hands rested on your back and hips. “I love you Coop. Even when ya piss me off, you’re still the only person in this god forsaken wasteland I could ever see myself with” you spoke, making him chuckle. “I love you too, sweetheart. ‘m sorry for makin’ you upset, wasn’t right. But I’d say you did a damn good job of puttin’ me in my place” he said, making you giggle. “No hard feelings?” You asked, looking at him with eyes that held so much worry for one person, eyes that held so much care. His hand came to the back of your head, pulling you into a loving kiss. “Never” he said into it, pressing his forehead against yours after you both parted for air. You gave a contented hum, happy for things to be all right again. “Remind me to piss you off more often, you got a good swing on ya” he said, breaking the peaceful silence with a grin, making you laugh. “Please don’t, I like moments like this so much more. I hate bein’ mad at you, love you too much” you replied, making him kiss the top of your head, wondering what he ever did to deserve someone like you.
“C’mon, let’s get ya cleaned up and get some RadAway in ya, don’t wanna ruin that perfect skin just yet” he said, making you giggle once more but it was cut off by a hiss as he moved you off from his softened dick, grabbing a wet rag and cleaning you both up as he got the IV started. He kissed your head once more, holding your hand like he always did as you got the needle in, got it all hooked up and a good flow going, coming back to sling his arm around you and hold you to him. Between the warmth of his body and the comfort of the bed, you couldn’t help but let your eyes flutter shut, a soft smile resting on your lips as you fell asleep peacefully against him. You always felt safe when you were with him, no matter where you were, and he’d always protect you no matter what. And that, is what love in post apocalypse looked like, he swore it.
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hgfictionwriter · 18 hours
Text
Sickness
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie's just about to make her big debut with the Thorns and she insists on taking care of you even if it means she may get sick.
Warnings: None
A/N: In response to this request. I completely agree - Jessie would revel in taking care of her partner.
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You winced as your alarm rang in your ears. You blindly pawed along the nightstand looking for your phone and turned off the grating sound with relief. You laid out on your back and frowned deeper. Your head was pounding. You inhaled deeply and quickly realized you were congested.
"Oh no."
You opened your eyes and saw light filtering in through the crack in the doorway to your ensuite bathroom; you heard the shower running. Jessie must've gone for a run already.
You forced yourself to sit up in bed and involuntarily winced once more as a sharp pang shot through your head at the movement. This wasn't good.
You cleared your throat, nearly coughing at how inflamed you discovered your throat to be. You got out of bed and made your way to the entryway of the new apartment you and Jessie shared. You'd taken possession a couple of days ago, and though a few boxes remained, you'd mostly unpacked and settled in. Neither of you being particularly materialistic made moving a much easier ordeal than it may have been otherwise.
You looked in the mirror that was freshly hung up and a low grumble emanated painfully from your throat. Though you looked okay for the most part, the bags under your eyes told a different story.
Your ears perked up as you heard the shower turn off and you rushed over to the kitchen, your mind scrambling to remember where you'd decided to store meds. You quickly found the bottle of painkillers and poured yourself a glass of water and hurriedly downed a couple of pills before tucking the bottle away to hide the evidence. You ignored how the pills went down like a couple of razor blades.
You were pouring more water when you heard Jessie pad into the hallway.
"Hey babe," she greeted.
You glanced up, working to rid yourself of the panicked feeling that still lingered. You smiled at her - a very easy feat when your eyes fell upon her in her sweats and a baggy t-shirt as she towel-dried her curly, wet hair. You cleared your throat as subtly as you could.
"Morning." To your relief, your voice sounded alright. For now.
"Did you sleep okay?" She asked as she crossed over to you with a hint of a frown on her face. "You were tossing and turning a lot."
"I'm sorry," you told her and she gave you a laugh.
"Don't be sorry. I'm sorry if you didn't sleep well," she said and wrapped her arms around you and leaned in to give you a kiss. You turned your head and her lips connected with your cheek. She pulled back with a discerning look.
"Everything okay?" She asked.
"Yeah, it's all good," you told her lightly as you removed yourself from her embrace and wandered over to the living room. You didn't know what you were doing, you just wanted to put as much space between you and her as possible. Her first day of training with the Thorns was tomorrow and the very last thing you wanted was for her to get sick.
You were reticent to tell her you were sick, too. Jessie was exceptionally thoughtful and caring, so if she knew you were sick, she would care for you even if it meant she'd get sick. You didn't want that in any case, but especially not with her being brand new on the team.
A mildly frustrated huff escaped you as you heard Jessie following you into the living room. You pointedly kept your back to her as you busied yourself studying one of your plants. You toyed with the leaves for a while and subtly shifted your gaze to the side, trying to peer at her as discretely as possible when you felt her hovering and not saying anything.
"I can book you a flight back home for a bit." Her voice was small, her words immediately pulling a deep frown out of you. You glanced over your shoulder at her in scrutiny, a low pang in your chest forming as you saw her standing somewhat dejected in the middle of the room.
"I know you came here just for me," she went on, her voice low as she tucked her hands into her pockets and looked up at you, her head hung slightly. "You left a lot behind. I don't take that for granted. I want to do whatever I can to make sure you're happy here. If you need to go back home more often or if I need to fly your friends or family out, I'm all for it. Whatever you need. I want you to be happy."
You turned around fully to face her. Sweet Jessie. Your beautiful, sweet, thoughtful Jessie. This is exactly why she was worth moving halfway around the world for. Your shoulders slumped as guilt crashed over you. You took in her sad, dark eyes and gave her a soft smile.
"Baby, I'm sorry. This," you gestured between here and the kitchen, "has nothing to do with any of that. I don't regret anything - I promise you. And I'm happy here with you. I know it won't always be easy, but we are solid - please know that." Her forehead was still creased in concern and you let out a small, embarrassed laugh. "I'm just being weird because I think I'm sick. I woke up with a pounding headache and my head's all congested, my throat hurts. And I do not want to get you sick."
You could visibly see the relief go through Jessie's body and she immediately took a couple large strides over to you. You immediately held up your hands and pressed against her chest as she tried to close the space between you.
"Babe! What did I just say?" You protested.
"I'll be fine!" She assured you as she pushed back and your half-hearted effort ceased. She held you tight and kissed your cheek. You indulged momentarily, wrapping your arms around her and leaning your head against hers. It always felt so warm and comforting in her arms.
You took a step back, putting your hands against her chest once more and gently pushing her back with a pointed look.
"That's all you get," you told her and she reluctantly let you push her back a couple of steps, her eyes not leaving yours.
"I'm going to take care of you," she told you in defiance and you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.
"This is why I didn't want to tell you."
"Why? Because I love my girlfriend and want to take care of her when she's sick? Well pardon me," she said dryly.
"Jessie," you pleaded, your voice rising in pitch. "This is serious. You're brand new on the team. You can't be sick right now."
She huffed and straightened her postured as she cocked her head at you. She contemplated her words for a few seconds before speaking.
"I understand what you're trying to do. But it's not necessary. I'm on a contract - I'm here for three years. People get sick - that's normal. I have lots of time to earn my place and make my mark here. If I did get sick - which I won't - it's not the end of the world if I miss a session or two."
You tutted in disapproval at her stubbornness. If you weren't so concerned for her, you'd be able to appreciate her sentiment more. Jessie - who was beyond dedicated to her sport, was actually willing to risk missing practice or even a game for you.
"I'm serious, Jess. Stay away. I'm going to sanitize things, and you keep to yourself and I'll do the same. I will be perfectly fine. I don't need you to take care of me."
She frowned at you, looking almost insulted.
"Well, I want to take care of you," came her rebuttal.
"Well I'm refusing," you countered, crossing your arms.
Jessie shook her head and mimicked your body language, folding her arms across her chest as well. When she spoke, her tone was unwavering.
"Listen, I know you're very independent. I know you're capable of taking care of yourself. But you're my girlfriend, my partner, love of my life, and I am taking care of you - end of story. So you are going to sit down on that couch," she pointed to it, but kept her eyes locked on you, "I am going to tuck you in, bring you food and drinks, we are going to watch movies all day and you are going to nap and get as much rest as you can. Understood?"
Any argument you had been formulating died on your lips. Jessie was rarely like this. She was such a good sport, always going with your ideas and whims and her family and friends made fun of her all the time - affectionately, of course - for it. You believe you heard the phrase, "You're so whipped" come up a few times.
You chewed the inside of your lip for a few seconds, refusing to break eye contact with her until you finally relented with a light scoff and roll of your eyes.
"Fine," you pouted. "But when you get in shit from your coach, don't tell me I didn't warn you."
Jessie simply grinned brightly at you and ushered you to the couch, setting you up with pillows right away. Soon she was ferrying items to and from before finally settling in with you. She pulled you against her so your head was resting on her chest as you watched TV together.
You'd be lying if you said you didn't love it.
-----
The next day, despite Jessie's efforts, you were feeling infinitely worse. She set you up on the couch in the morning and kneeled down in front of you, concern clear on her face.
"I don't want to leave you," she said, passively seeking your permission to stay with you.
"Go," you said, your voice now thick and hoarse. You turned your head into the couch and coughed. She immediately began rubbing your back.
"I can't leave you like this," she pouted.
"Go," you repeated, this time more adamant before continuing softly. "I want you to. Go blow them away. I'll be here when you get back."
She hummed deep in her throat, studying you for several moments before giving up with a light huff. She leaned in and kissed your forehead, bringing her hand up to cup your cheek and caress your cheekbone.
"I'll be home before you know it." She frowned at you before adding firmly, "Call me if anything comes up." You would normally roll your eyes at how overly attentive she was being - as much as you loved it - but you were so drained all you could do was close your eyes and nod.
"My baby," she said as she continued to caress your cheek. "I hate that I can't make you feel better."
You heard her get up and after a while you felt something being pushed into your hands. You slowly opened your eyes to see the little koala plushie she'd brought home for you from Australia.
"You hold him until I get home, okay?"
You whined against your will and clutched the plushie close to you, tucking your chin against it. You looked up and her lips were turned down in a sad smile as she watched you.
"I love you so much," she told you and leaned down to kiss you on the temple. "I'll be home as soon as I can."
"No," you whined further. "Do what you need to do. Don't rush home for me."
"I always rush home to you," she countered with an easy grin. You moaned in mild complaint.
"Why are you so good to me?" You pouted.
"Because I love you. And you deserve it," she told you readily as she swung her backpack over her shoulder.
"Mmm. I want cuddles when you get back," you continued to pout. She laughed.
"I'm going to bring you snacks and treats and then you'll get all the cuddles you want."
"Mmm," you whined again. "I'll miss you." She leaned down to lay one more kiss on your head.
"I'll miss you too. Now, get some rest. I'll be home soon."
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missvelvetsstuff · 16 hours
Text
No Benefits
Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter
Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.
Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.
Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon
I try to keep my reader generic but as always she is female and taller than average.
I have to say I've been a bit overwhelmed at the response to this story, I hope I can live up to your expectations.
Chapter 2
Warnings: swearing, angst, a little dirty talk. Bucky's kind of an ass, Sharon is evil.
Cookie just stared at the pictures, heart racing, almost hyperventilating. She shook her head and looked at Nick Fury "This can't be right, can it? Sharon Carter can't be working against us, can she?"
Fury looked at her, concern evident on his face. "I'd like to think it's impossible but look at what happened with Hydra. We knew that Rumlow and the strike team were on our side and it turned out the entire operation had been rotten for decades."
Cookie tried to still her hands "B B But th this, this is different. Sh Sh Sha Sharon C C Carter. SHIELD founder P Peggy Carter's niece can't be the Power Broker." She felt her stomach drop and heart stop when it clicked "Oh god, no she can't but b b but Sam and" whispered "Bucky" the color left her face and she started pacing, bouncing until Nick snapped
"COOKIE!"
Y/N jumped and turned to face her boss "Yessir?"
Nick rubbed her arms "Calm down. You're no good to me like this. Barnes and Wilson are off site with Carter, right? Where are they, exactly?"
Cookie nodded "uh yeah they're um, wait let me see." She pulled her phone out "they should be, Latvia." She exhaled and it felt like she was deflating "Where my informant was killed last night."
Fury nodded "I doubt she wants to kill Wilson or Barnes so we just need to get this info to them. You'll probably have to wait until they come home."
Cookie shook her head "But what if she kidnaps them? What if they don't come back?"
Fury shook his head "We'll cross that bridge if we get to it. I need you to compile everything you have that's even vaguely related to the Power Broker and anything you can find about Carter's movements. Let's see if we can find more links between them." He looked at his watch
"I want you in my office for lunch and we'll go over everything you have." He looked her in the eyes "Alright, Cookie? I know you're concerned about your friends but we need to keep our minds clear and focused on the facts so that we can help keep them safe."
Cookie tried to blink the tears out of her eyes and nodded "Got it, boss." before hurrying to her office by way of the break room because coffee was a dire need at this point.
She made it to her office, closed the door so no one would disturb her, turned on her music and sat down to go through every bit of Intel she had that might offer any clues. There were stacks of correspondence and photos plus some undefined amount of info on a thumb drive that she needed to work through with the only other analysts she absolutely knew she could trust, Dylan and Iris. She had trained with them and came up through Quantico where Nick Fury personally headhunted them.
Cookie didn't want to take a chance by getting too many people involved in this, after the whole SHIELD/HYDRA debacle she kept a couple of people close and everyone else could wait outside her gates until they convinced her they were trustworthy. This was huge and had 2 Avengers directly in Sharon's line of fire so had to be handled carefully.
Cookie also knew that her frayed friendship with Bucky was going to make this even more complicated because Sharon could use that to discredit her so Bucky thinks Cookie is just trying to eliminate a romantic rival.
She shook her head, no time to get distracted by emotions, her friends were in danger and that had to remain her focus. By 1pm, Cookie had synced almost all of Sharon Carter's movements with the power broker. There was no doubt, it was definitely her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the other side of the world, Sam was fed up with his mission partners. Sharon rubbed him the wrong way and Bucky was too wrapped up in her to see anything but sex. Sam had a bad feeling about Sharon, she was constantly wandering off only to be found on her phone and the Power Broker seemed to get away right before they arrived, every single time.
He tried to talk to Bucky but he just laughed it off, explaining how impossible it was for a Carter to be the bad guy. "Sam you're being ridiculous and paranoid even for a spy. Sharon is just as frustrated with our lack of progress as we are. You know sometimes this is just a waiting game." He smirked at his friend "We could find you a nice girl to pass the time with."
Sam shook his head and scoffed "A nice girl? You mean like Cookie for instance, who wouldn't try to distract me with sex like yours is doing to you."
Bucky laughed "You jealous man? I'm just making up for lost time and Cookie didn't want me." His smile dropped as he thought of her.
Sam looked at Bucky with wide eyes "Cookie didn't want you? Now we both know that's not the truth, you just got scared of the idea of a real relationship and dropped her for your living cock sleeve. You're a dumbass, Barnes."
Sam's phone buzzed with a text and he smiled when he saw it was from Cookie. She always checked up to make sure they were eating and sleeping while in the field. He looked at his texts
*<3 BeSafe*CYA*
That caught his attention. CYA= Cover Your Ass. It was their code for trouble close by which meant she found something concerning but the problem was too close to say out loud.
Bucky tried to look over his shoulder "What's that? From Cookie? You fucking her?" His voice dropped and he looked angrily at the ground "I knew she would find someone better."
Sam looked at him with disgust "The fuck is wrong with you? The only reason she might find someone better is cuz you pushed her away when you should have held on tight because you're not gonna find another one like her."
He nodded towards the hall where Sharon had gone "That one is trouble. There's something not right about all this and the way she keeps dragging you off to the bedroom."
Bucky smirked "I can't help that she's insatiable. Don't want to disappoint."
Sharon was in the other room listening to their discussion, smiling at how easily Bucky stood up for her. It was simple enough to get his attention when she came back to work with SWORD and he did all the work pushing Cookie away with his guilt. She was confident that he would take her side if that analyst bitch got too close. Sam could be a problem but nothing she wasn't prepared to handle.
She used a burner phone to send a text to her associate, the Intel analyst in D.C. to let them know she would be returning stateside soon and everything was going according to plan.
In the morning Bucky woke up in bed with Sharon's head on his bare chest and groaned. The position he was in wasn't a concern but he didn't remember going to bed or the usual activities with Sharon that followed. He couldn't remember anything past his talk with Sam, about Cookie. He didn't remember eating but he must have since it had been almost lunch time when he spoke to Sam. If he hadn't eaten he would be famished by now.
He took a deep breath and tried to focus and see if he could find any memories but all he could add was Sharon coming into the room and pulling him into their bedroom.
He looked at his watch and counted hours, he had lost almost 18 hours and couldn't figure out what happened. This wasn't the first time he had lost time on this trip and he didn't like the feeling.
Sam was right, something was off.
Sharon started to stir against him "Hey baby, look who's up before me."
Bucky smiled "Mornin baby, you sleep ok? Did we have some fancy liquor last night? I can't remember a damn thing, not even fucking you for 2 hours and I'm sure I did that."
She whined "I'm that forgettable? I thought I made you feel good." and pouted, rubbing his growing cock to distract him.
He reached between her legs to find her ready "You're always so wet and ready for me sweetheart. Tell me what you need."
Sharon moaned "I need you to fuck me, Barnes. Hard and deep. Right now."
Bucky was only too happy to oblige, the lost time forgotten in their haze of lust.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In her office Cookie and her crew worked well past lunchtime until an intern showed up from Nick's office to remind them of the passage of time.
Cookie put all of the papers and photos into a box since they hadn't had time to digitize it all and write up a comprehensive report. She went over every single detail with Nick and Maria to determine what should go in her report and which points to highlight for field agents.
The rest of the day and into the evening Cookie's team had everything organized and the details and evidence all written up in a 5 page report with back up documentation available in her files. She looked up when her phone buzzed to see it was Sam responding to her earlier text
*👍🐴☔*
She smiled knowing that Sam got it and would watch out for Bucky even if he was a dumbass.
Looking at her watch she saw it was almost midnight and noticed Iris trying to read her text before she quickly put her phone away. Iris and Dylan were her most trusted analysts but even they didn't need to know about her chatting with Sam.
She dismissed them so she could have a bit to herself to reply to Sam and include some details that they didn't have the clearance for.
A few days later when Sam, Bucky and Sharon arrived back home, Cookie was there to meet Sam and barely even acknowledged Bucky or Sharon which made Bucky act out, snapping at Sharon. Sharon was annoyed that he still cared about fucking Cookie, after all the work she had done to get him under control he was still pining for that stupid analyst. She knew something would need to be done about her soon.
Sam and Cookie walked arm in arm to medical to have him checked out, then to the common room when she had left some chili simmering for him plus fresh French bread. They took their lunch and went to his room to eat.
Cookie sat across from Sam while he talked about the mission until the food was gone and he stopped, just staring at her.
Cookie stared back "What?"
He looked at her sideways "First, I love you Cookie but you look like Hell. You're worried about me in the field but you're here looking like you haven't slept or had a decent meal in weeks."
She flinched before whispering "Closer to months."
"No, Cookie. Don't destroy yourself over a man that's too stupid to see what's right in front of him. We need you here. Nick fucking Fury insists you're the best intelligence analyst he's ever met. Ever. From the man who doesn't offer praise lightly.
I need you. I can't trust anyone else to lay all the intel out just so it flows for me. Or make sure I'm taken care of when I come back from a mission?
And his dumb ass might not know it or be willing to admit it but Barnes needs you too. He's in love with you, he just thinks he's being good and noble by pushing you away. And if he doesn't figure it out, there's plenty of other men and women that would jump at the chance to be with you. So take care of yourself."
Sam sighed "Second, I know you didn't send the CYA code for shits and giggles so tell me. What do you know?"
Cookie shifted uncomfortably "I want you to know this has nothing to do with their relationship, I didn't look to discredit her or hurt him but you know I have to follow the evidence where it leads me, without prejudice. You know I-"
Sam stopped her "I know you are impartial and I trust you and your conclusions so just spit it out and we'll go from there. Ok?"
Cookie nodded and took a deep breath before blurting out "Sharoncarteristhepowerbroker" then covering her mouth and looked at Sam with wide eyes.
Sam stopped and stared "Please tell me you didn't just say what I think you said. Tell me that she's-. Fuck." He shook his head "I know you have proof. Cookie, you have to tell Barnes."
She blinked rapidly trying to clear the tears that suddenly welled up in her eyes "Nononono, no I can't tell him. He will think I'm some disgruntled woman trying to hurt my rival. You have to tell him Sam he will never listen to me. Hell he hasn't even spoken to me outside of work ever since...."
Her eyes filled up and she tried to hold the tears back but she had been keeping it all in for so long.
Sam pulled her into his chest and sighed "Alright. Give me what you have, I'll talk to him tomorrow. And what's with all the containers of Cookies?"
Cookie shrugged "I was worried about you. Couldn't sleep. I made some of your favorites, the red velvet. The frosted ones are *special* to help you sleep."
Sam hugged Cookie and kissed her cheek "Alright babygirl, lay it out for me..." They spent the next hour going over everything she had before her eyes started drooping. "Okay Miss Cookie, go get some sleep and I'll see you at the debrief tomorrow."
Cookie gathered her paperwork and left Sam's room only to see Bucky in the kitchen. She didn't want to ignore him so nodded and grunted as she passed without slowing down. Bucky just watched her leave, wondering what she was doing in Sam's room so late.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After their run the next morning Sam and Bucky sat down for coffee. Sharon told Bucky she wanted to sleep in so Sam figured now was the time.
Bucky started in on him before he even spoke "What's up with you and Cookie? You are fucking her aren't you? I saw her leave your room early this morning. Don't fucking lie to me jerk."
Sam brushed him off, "None of your damn business."
He tried to change the subject and explain about Sharon but Bucky didn't respond well
"What the fuck do you mean Sam? Sharon is not the goddamn power broker, that's ridiculous, her aunt was a founder of SHIELD. Where did you get your Intel from?" Sam looked at him pointedly, like there was any other person who Sam trusts completely.
Bucky shook his head angrily and stood up to head to Cookies office. "I can't believe you fell for it Sam. She's just trying to get Sharon back because she is with me. I turned her down for a relationship so she wants to hurt me back. Sharon warned me that she would try to pull something like this."
Sam stood up and grabbed Bucky's arm "Are you kidding me? You think Cookie would put her career and reputation on the line for petty jealousies? That she would ruin Sharon's reputation for revenge, over you? I guess you don't really know her after all." He shook his head "I'm disappointed in you man. I thought better of you. Good luck confronting Cookie, she's not interested in your shit."
Cookie was at her desk making packets with the Intel on the power broker for the top brass when Maria stopped by.
"Hows everything, Cookie? Got that power broker packet for me?"
Cookie nodded "It's right here." and reached out with a folder.
Maria noticed her hands "Cookie? What happened to your nails? When was the last time you had a mani-pedi? Is your girl sick?" She looked over Cookies hands in concern, she never missed her nail appointment.
Cookie shrugged "I don't know, I forgot. It's no big deal."
Maria looked closer "You look like Hell. Finish the packets up and take the afternoon off, you need-"
"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"
@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes
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galaxygolfergirl · 2 days
Text
Watcher's Expenses
I didn't major in accounting: I took three classes and it grinded my brain to a fine powder. However, after graduating with a business admin degree, being a former eager fan of their videos, and from a cursory glance over their socials, there's a lot to consider in their spending behavior that really could start racking up costs. Some of these things we've already noticed, but there are other things I'd like to highlight, and I'll try to break it down into the different categories of accounting expenses (if I get something wrong, let me know. I was more concentrated in marketing 🤷‍♀️). I'm not going to hypothesize numbers either, as that would take out more time than I'm willing to afford-- you can assume how much everything costs. Anyways, here's my attempt at being a layman forensic accountant:
Note: All of this is assuming they're operating above board and not engaging in any illegal practices such as money laundering, tax evasion, not paying rent, etc.
Operating Expenses
Payroll: 25+ staff salaries and insurance
Overhead Expenses
CEO/founder salaries
Office space leasing or rent (In L.A, one of the most expensive cities in the US)
Utilities (water, electricity, heating, sanitation, etc.)
Insurance
Advertising Costs
Telephone & Internet service
Cloud Storage or mainframe
Office equipment (furniture, computers, printers, etc.)
Office supplies (paper, pens, printer ink, etc.)
Marketing costs (Social media marketing on Instagram, Youtube, SEO for search engines, Twitter, etc. Designing merchandise and posters, art, etc. )
Human Resources (not sure how equipped they are)
Accounting fees
Property taxes
Legal fees
Licensing fees
Website maintenance (For Watchertv.com, Watcherstuff.com, & Watcherentertainment.com)
Expenses regarding merchandising (whoever they contract or outsource for that)
Inventory costs
Potentially maintenance of company vehicles
Subsequent gas mileage for road trips
Depreciation (pertains to tangible assets like buildings and equipment)
Amortization (intangible assets such as patents and trademarks)
Overhead Travel and Entertainment Costs (I think one of the biggest culprits, evident in their videos and posts)
The travel expenses (flights, train trips, rental cars, etc. For main team and scouts)
Hotel expenses for 7-8 people at least, or potentially more
Breakfasts, lunches and dinners with the crew (whether that's fully on their dime or not, I don't know; Ryan stated they like to cover that for the most part)
Recreational activities (vacation destinations, amusement parks, sporting activities etc.)
The location fees
Extraneous Overhead costs (not sure exactly where these fall under, but another culprit, evident in videos and posts)
Paying for guest appearances
Expensive filming & recording equipment (Cameras, sound equipment, editing software subscriptions, etc.)
The overelaborate sets for Ghost files, Mystery Files, Puppet History, Podcasts etc. (Set dressing: Vintage memorabilia, antiquated tech, vintage furniture, props, etc.)
Kitchen & Cooking supplies/equipment
Office food supply; expensive food and drink purchases for videos
Novelty items or miscellaneous purchases (ex. Ghost hunting equipment, outfits, toys, etc.)
Non-Operating Expenses
These are those expenses that cannot be linked back to operating revenue. One of the most common examples of non-operating expenses is interest expense. This is because while interest is the cost of borrowing money from a creditor or a bank, they are not generating any operating income. This makes interest payments a part of non-operating expenses.
Financial Expenses
Potential loan payments, borrowing from creditors or lenders, bank loans, etc.
Variable Expenses
Hiring a large amount of freelancers, overtime expenditure, commissions, etc.
PR consultations (Not sure if they had this before the scandal)
Extraordinary Expenses
Expenses incurred outside your company’s regular business activities and during a large one-time event or transactions. For example, selling land, disposal of a significant asset, laying off of your employees, unexpected machine repairing or replacement, etc.
Accrued Expenses
When your business has incurred an expense but not yet paid for it.
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(If there's anything else I'm missing, please feel free to add or correct things)
To a novice or a young entrepreneur, this can be very intimidating if you don't have the education or the support to manage it properly. I know it intimidates the hell out of me and I'm still having to fill in the gaps (again, if I've mislabeled or gotten anything wrong here, please let me know). For the artistic or creative entrepreneur, it can be even harder to reconcile the extent of your creative passions with your ability to operate and scale your business at a sustainable rate. That can lead to irresponsible, selfish, and impulsive decisions that could irreparably harm your brand, which is a whole other beast of its own.
My guess at this point is that their overhead and operation expenses are woefully mismanaged; they've made way too many extraneous purchases, and that they had too much confidence in their audience of formerly 2.93 million to make up for the expenses they failed to cover.
It almost seems as if their internal logic was, "If we make more money, we can keep living the expensive lifestyle that we want and make whatever we want without anyone telling us we can't, and we want to do it NOW, sooner rather than later because we don't want wait and compromise our vision." But as you can see, the reality of fulfilling those ambitions is already compromised by the responsibility of running a business.
And I wrote this in another post here, but I'll state it again: Running a business means you need to be educated on how a business can successfully and efficiently operate. Accounting, marketing, social media marketing, public relations, production, etc; these resources and internet of things is available and at your disposal. If they had invested more time in educating themselves on those aspects and not made this decision based on artistic passion (and/or greed), they would have not gotten the response they got.
Being a graphic designer, I know the creative/passionate side of things but I also got a degree/got educated in business because I wanted to understand how to start a company and run it successfully. If they’re having trouble handling the responsibility of doing that, managing production costs, managing overhead expenses, and especially with compensating their 25+ employees, then they should hire professionals that are sympathetic to their creative interests, but have the education and experience to reign in bad decisions like these.
Anyways, thanks for coming to my TedTalk. What a shitshow this has been.
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mangokabuto · 14 hours
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Proof of Usopp and Nami being Luffy’s vice/co captains? I would (genuinely!) love to see your thoughts and evidence, bc big agree
(Context:)
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Hello anonymous tumblr-using friend!
As someone with a lot of knowledge of & a great passion for real-life historical piracy, I have VERY STRONG OPINIONS about how the Strawhat crew would fit into an actual golden age crew structure. When I said "I have proof" I was jokingly referring to my knowledge of historical piracy and how the characters slot into those trends, not any sort of "in-anime/manga proof" of Usopp and Nami being ""co-captains"" with Luffy, so if that's what you're here for then sorry lol.
BUT if you want to learn a little about golden age western-world piracy, (and my "au" of sorts for how each crewmate would be recognized in that context,) stick around! :)
(extremely long explanation under cut LMFAO)
First off, as i said in my heated/j tags, "captain" did not usually mean what Oda makes it mean in OP's world. I am ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN Oda is just as passionate about & did plenty of research about historical piracy, and is clearly pulling a little from wakō history, but mostly from golden-age western piracy (specifically mostly the post-spanish succession period, to my estimation).
That being said. Why he puts so much emphases on Captains and First Mates is BEYOND me, because irl they were not as important.
The captain WAS important, don't get me wrong, but they weren't the sole reigning commander of a ship. They were more like a figurehead, most of the time. This is a sortof flimsy metaphor, but think of Captains like the modern-day king or queen of England; They're hyped up as the #1 leader, they're an important charismatic face for the group, and they technically have last-say on important matters, but they are beholden to two other groups (like the cabinet and the prime minister).
During the golden age of piracy, most crews were commanded by a group of three people. These three people were usually the Captain, the Quartermaster, and the Bosun. Each filled a different role on the ship, and all three were democratically elected by the crew. In all important matters, the three would discuss together how to proceed/solve the current problem, and though the Captain COULD overrule the other two at any time, that typically got him handily shoved overboard via mutiny. By technicality there was a heirarchy of power between the three stations, (with Captain usually being the top dog, then the Quartermaster, then the Bosun just above the rest of the crew,) but in practice they held equal sway in decisions that would effect the entire crew.
HOWEVER, outside of "big crew-wide decision-making moments" where you needed to assemble the three leaders, they didn't always have to coordinate. Depending on what situation the crew was currently in, one of them would be de-facto in charge of the crew, and the other two would step back unless the one currently in charge did something that needed to be challenged, like they made a bad decision or (in a more extreme case) broke the articles.
The Captain was in charge during times of battle. The captain's primary role was as a fighter, performer, and military commander! If the crew was attacked or about to attack someone else, the Captain would immediately take charge. (Now, real pirates weren't actually violent in practice as frequently as pop culture would have you believe, but that's a whole other topic. The reason "performer" is listed in the Captain's "jobs" is that part of their responsibility as a captain worth their salt was to scare enemies into surrendering without a fight through theatrics and reputation.)
The Bosun was in charge when the Boat was damaged or needed upkeep. The Bosun was not always the greatest carpenter or shipwright in their own right (in fact, in larger crews, they usually weren't either of those things), but they would be the one to get together with the shipwright and worksmen and assess damage, organize repair teams, and keep the boat running as well as possible. The crew followed their lead during repairs, and they were the go-to authority on any matters concerning the physical boat.
The Quartermaster was in charge the rest of the time. The way the Bosun is in charge of the physical boat, the Quartermaster was in charge of the crew. They were responsible for enforcing the articles, dealing out discipline, and the crew's general well-being outside of battle. In that same way that a bosun didn't have to be a shipwright, a quartermaster wasn't usually a doctor or cook, but they worked closely with them. Being in charge outside times of battle meant that the Quartermaster was also in charge of headings and navigation, and more often than not they were the ship's navigator, or head navigation/deck officer if their crew was large enough to have more than one nav. They also usually handled the crew's finances/pay and cargo. Is this starting to sound familiar yet.
So. After establishing the roles. I don't think I have to persuade you that while Luffy is most definitely the Strawhat Captain, Nami is our Quartermaster and Usopp is our Bosun. At the VERY LEAST this is true on the Merry Go.
You could possibly persuade me that Franky takes Usopp's place as Bosun once they get the Thousand Sunny, but I would be hard to convince. (I could be persuaded that Usopp loses his position as bosun on the Sunny, but Franky does not behave like a bosun as much as a head carpenter, and Usopp functions like his carpenter's mate. It's almost like, post-timeskip, they don't have a bosun anymore, and Zoro fills the newly empty position on the leadership trio?)
Now, these roles are not concrete, and they didn't always make up the "management trio" on a pirate ship. Some very small crews just didn't have enough people that they needed to single out their three favorite guys; they could just all vote on important decisions together. Sometimes the management trio included the surgeon or the first mate instead of the bosun. There were many crews where the Quartermaster was considered the top-dog highest authority instead of the Captain at all times. Even during the golden age pirate crews varied greatly, but the Captain/Quartermaster/Bosun trio was most common.
As for the ship hierarchy, there was a trend you could rely on no matter who the "three leaders" were. Everyone was generally considered of equal importance on a crew, (hence the elected offices and avenue for mutiny,) but there was a chain of command of sorts? Or at least people who would be shown greater respect and responsibility based on what they provided for the crew:
Captain and/or Quartermaster
Bosun and/or Surgeon/Doctor, and sometimes the First Mate
Everybody else, including captain's other mates.
Speaking of Captain's Mates... On larger crews, every important role on the ship had a "mate," or an apprentice chosen by the person in question to replace them if they should die, or otherwise be out-of-commission. Quartermaster's Mate. Bosun's Mate. Doctor/Surgeon's Mate. Carpenter's Mate. Etc. However, the Captain had MULTIPLE MATES, because his job was front-line combat focused. Ergo, he could easily die and need a replacement. Quickly. And his replacement could need a sudden replacement! So, depending on the size of the crew, the captain could have anywhere from two to eight mates, who were ranked by number. That's why the captain's highest-ranking mate is called the First Mate. Because there was usually a Second Mate. And then some more of em.
The First Mate's job is to be a good ass fighter, and back the Captain up on whatever they're currently doing. They hype the Captain up and enforce the Captain's decisions, no matter what that decision is. This is why they were usually not put in the management trio on most crews, cause you could imagine. The conflict of interest. (There's supposed to be three of them so that no one member has too much sway. Which could be sabotaged if two of the three are captain and captain's favorite soldier LMFAO)
I have no idea why, in the world of One Piece, all of the emphasis seems to be on Captains as the end-all-be-all leaders of their ship and the First Mate as the second in command. Especially when Oda clearly KNOWS about the other roles, since he's written characters that fall into them like perfect puzzle pieces!
...Well, okay, I have some idea. This is a shonen series for teens and being the captain/king/etc is wish fulfillment, and wouldn't be as cool for the projecting readers if you were part of a leading council with two other mooks. But. I can still be salty about it LMFAO <3
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torchickentacos · 3 days
Text
Drew’s Travel Route (Part 1. Sigh.)
Ok, SO! I said I’d try to figure out the travel routes of the anime rivals, and I’m starting with Drew. First things first, starting with Hoenn, here’s the map- I’ve marked down the probable locations of places that the anime made up where relevant. LONG POST, and I’ve edited the map for clarity’s sake. Also, I am vaguely/loosely taking encounter locations from RSE, you’ll get it later, don’t worry about it for now. 
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The beginning of his journey is a logical place to start but also we really don't know. He’s from LaRousse City, which is allegedly off the coast of Lilycove, according to Bulbapedia with no citation. He has three ribbons before meeting May and co., but we have no way of knowing where he got them or when or anything. We’re going to ignore those ribbons for my own sanity and just say ‘somehow he got from LaRousse to Slateport’, because otherwise I’d be factoring Solidad in here and it’s just a whole thing that we’re not worrying about. Fanon tends to agree that this isn’t his first contest circuit, so for all we know he didn’t even start from LaRousse. We just don’t know and we’re not worrying about it, and we're calling Slateport our start point because that's where he debuts. (Personal opinion? He's probably at LEAST been around Eastern Hoenn before, maybe down around the islands (Sootopolis, Mossdeep) at some point and around 121-122-123. We'll just assume he made his way from LaRousse>Lilycove>122>123>128>Mauville>110>Slateport, bringing us to our start point and gathering 3 ribbons along the way, but I'm not mapping that out because I have no real evidence).
So, that out of the way, let’s look at his starting point.
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Drew first shows up in AG033 at a beach in Slateport City, where he stays until AG035 Win, Lose, or Drew!. After that, we don’t see him until AG050 Pros and Con Artists, set in Fallarbor Town. Now, Slateport and Fallarbor are far away and have a few different routes. We’re saving the desert route for later (I have my reasons to believe he only went to 111 later on), so north is out. You could also go a bit south to Oldale>Petalburg>Rustboro, OR north and then west through Mauville>Verdanturf>Rustboro. We’re assuming the former, as the latter would mean he visited Verdanturf before and didn’t enter any contests and that just makes less sense to me. Also it doesn’t matter. MAYBE he caught Masquerain as a Surskit in this stretch of traveling but it's inconclusive and largely irrelevant.
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So, AG050, Fallarbor. He stays here throughout 051-Come What May!. The next time we see him is in AG061, Disaster of Disguise, set in Verdanturf. He stays here throughout 062 as well. Minor backtracking through 114, 115, and Rustboro, but nothing major.
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After this, we see him in AG077, A Fan With A Plan, which takes place in, uh, Rubello Town. 
This is where it gets funky. Rubello Town is somewhere between ‘Littleroot and Fortree’ according to Bulbapedia, which is like saying that New Jersey is somewhere between Maine and Florida. So I took it into my own hands and decided that it’s PROBABLY somewhere around the intersection of Routes 118 and 119, or early 119, headed into Fortree. It’s the only place that makes sense given where May and Co. are in the surrounding episodes. We're really triangulating some shit here. Eventually I should try to figure out where all the fake towns are but that's a project for later. Anyways, Rubello Town, AG077, A Fan With A Plan. That episode deserves its own 'wtf' post tbh. Anyways. We're here.
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So, from 118-119ish, Rubello Town, AG077, we then see him again in AG113, Who, What, When, Where, Wynaut (WWWWW). So, there’s a lot going on in this little stretch. It’s a big timegap from AG077-113. First things first, I’m assuming he took a detour through route 120 to catch Absol at this point. Absol debuts all the way in the Kanto Grand Festival, but it makes sense for him to have caught it this early on. So, we’re calling route 120 his next stop, maybe offscreen around AG80ish?
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And now, we’re detouring back to Route 111. I agonized over this decision but it feels right to put it here.
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You see, at some point Drew needs to have caught a Trapinch. Some of you guys who also trawled the bulbapedia ship pages before they got deleted probably remember that Flygon was specifically caught and trained for the theoretical situation in which he faced against May in the Hoenn Grand Festival. Because, you know, raising a pokemon up to at least level 45 is a thing you do for people you feel normally about. That’s a completely normal investment of time and energy and forethought and care. Anyways, I actually hesitated on assuming that Drew would have seen May as important enough to go out of his way to catch it this early-on, but we are three roses in with blatant flirting in 077, and WWWWW is up next (which people seem to agree is when he's like oh shit, those are emotions that I'm feeling), so it feels like a safe enough bet, and also Drew’s just Kind Of Like That™. Also, there’s no other time later in which it makes sense for him to have time to make the detour while also evolving it before the Grand Festival (and honestly even then we’re pushing it a bit). Any earlier and I doubt he’d have considered her in high enough regard to train an entire pokemon to battle her with (again, very large investment of time and energy to get a Flygon). So, with all that, we’re assuming that he goes back to 111 and catches Trapinch here. 
He also gets a ribbon somewhere in this time gap (his fifth). In the anime, pretty much every town seems like it holds contests. I really don’t know. I’m ASSUMING that on his way to Route 131 (we’ll get there in a second), he picks up a ribbon from some made-up location that we aren't privy to.
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Now. Gonna be real. I don’t know where in the actual hell they are in the beginning of WWWWW and his next appearance. Vaguely around Pacifidlog? Two episodes ago they were in Sootopolis, one episode ago they were on some random island, and they’re just in the ocean in the next one so I don’t know. Best I can figure is somewhere around Route 131. Why is Drew out in the middle of route 131? Don’t know. He has all 5 ribbons and isn’t going to Pacifidlog to watch May (something he goes out of his way for later but I digress). I really have no earthly clue why the fresh hell he’s out in 131, but HE IS I GUESS and who am I to question it? Did he just want some ocean time??? I don't know why he's here. Usually him being in out-of-the-way places is because May's there, but no, he's not here for her this time, he doesn't watch the Pacifidlog contest to the best of our knowledge, he's just. HERE. I GUESS.
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So. Fine. Whatever. We’re on 131 FOR SOME REASON, he ‘travels’ to Mirage Island if you’d call that travelling, they head back to wherever they were on 131.
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It’s more straightforward from here- he heads back to Slateport for the Hoenn Grand Festival, AG121-123. We’re assuming he takes a boat, I’m not sending this dude all the way back through mainland Hoenn. Tbh he has seasick vibes, which several unrelated fics from over the last 15 years seem to agree on for whatever reason, but that’s his problem and not mine. 
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SO. FINALLY. END OF HOENN (but not end of AG, there’s that part 2 at some point). We’re all the way back at Slateport- his first and last Hoenn appearance is maybe/probably on the same stretch of beach, intentional or not. And with that, we have his PROBABLE travel route throughout his appearances in the Hoenn section of AG!
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Kanto gets its own post because this is over 1k words long and took 2 hours to figure out last night :)))))))
(and @silverncats , here it is!!! I hope this is interesting, and I'm planning on doing more! This was super fun, albeit tedious and full of guesswork)
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sixgunluvr · 1 day
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I suck so bad at titles. Let me know if you have a good one for this.
Mature readers only, 18+, pairing Arthur with a female reader, dominance & submission, not too rough though
3.668 words
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Your hand connected hard with Arthur's cheek, sending a loud smack echoing through the night. The sound of your palm against his flesh was like a shot of electricity, igniting a spark that traveled down to your core and settled in the pit of your stomach.
"How dare you?!" your voice cracked with pain and pure fury.
The sting on your hand was nothing compared to the raw emotion coursing through your veins.
Arthur recoiled from you as if he had just received a physical blow, bringing his hand up to his cheek. He was taken aback by your sudden eruption, eyes wide as he looked at you in shock.
"What the hell are you talking about?!"  he exclaimed, rubbing his cheek.
"Micah told me of your little whore in town today!" you screamed.  Your chest heaved with rage and your fists clenched at your sides.
You had spent the past week waiting for his return, holding onto the memories of your passionate encounters and the tenderness he had shown you. You believed that his feelings for you were just as strong, that he would want nothing more than to come back to you as soon as he could.
But now, as you stood there in the middle of the night, facing the man you thought you knew so well, your whole world came crashing down.
Arthur had a look of utter confusion, "Micah? Whore in town?"
"Darlin I haven't a clue as to what you're talking about," he protested.
You looked to all the men sitting around the fire. They all had looks of confusion on their faces.  It was clear that none of them had heard about any such thing as a "little whore in town."
You looked Arthur up and down. He had the same rugged, handsome face that you fell in love with. His medium-length brown hair was disheveled from travel and his green eyes had a hint of worry. His muscular build was evident even through his clothes. 
But now something felt different.
"What's going on?" one of them asked, breaking the stunned silence.
But you couldn't answer yet. Your mind was racing with thoughts and emotions, and you were struggling to process everything. "I-I need some time," you stammered out, before turning and rushing off into the darkness.
Arthur called your name running after you and caught up to you, grabbing your arm.
"Stop, wait! I don't know what that bastard told you, but it ain't true!" he said urgently.
You turned to face him, eyes glistening with tears.
"Then what is it, Arthur? What am I to you?" you asked, voice shaking with emotion.
He looked at you for a moment, then stepped closer, pulling you into his arms.
"You're everything, darlin'. I've been gone for a week, and I couldn't stop thinkin' about you.
My body aches for you, darlin'. I missed the feel of your soft skin, the taste of your lips, and the way your body responds to my touch.
You looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and fear, searching his eyes for the truth. He hesitated for a moment before continuing, "I know I ain't been here for a while, but I swear to God, it don't change how I feel about you. I need you, darlin'."
You didn't know what to think. Micah was not exactly known for his honesty, but there was something in Arthur's eyes that convinced you that he was telling the truth. You couldn't help but soften at his words.
Slowly, you nodded your head in understanding.
"Why would he make up such a story?" you asked, leaning your head against Arthur's chest as you took in his soothing scent.
"Be cause he's an asshole and he's been after you since day one. He's gonna do whatever it takes to break us apart.
But I promise you, there ain't no one else but you," he whispered, before capturing your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. Your bodies melted into one another as his hands roamed over your curves. Your breasts pressed against his chest, the heat from his body spreading throughout you like wildfire.
Your tongue darted out, exploring the depths of his mouth as if you were trying to taste his very soul.
"Oh, Arthur," you murmured against his lips before he nibbled on your lower lip, biting down gently. You groaned as he slid his hands down your back, gripping your ass firmly before grinding you against him.
You could feel the hard length of his cock pressing into you, and it made your thighs rub together in anticipation. His fingers found the hem of your dress and tucked it up, exposing your bare flesh to the cool night air.
The sensation of his rough fingertips against your delicate skin sent a shiver down your spine, causing goosebumps to break out across your body. Arthur's hands continued to roam, squeezing your ass before moving up to grope your breasts through your blouse. He pinched and twisted your nipples until they were hard nubs, making you gasp against his mouth. A moan escaped your lips as his fingers found their way between your legs, brushing against your slick folds.
"Oh Arthur," you murmured against his lips, your voice filled with pure desire.
At the sound of your moan, Arthur's self-control snapped. He roughly turned you around, pulling you tight against him.
You could feel his hard cock against your ass.
His hand was wrapped around your throat, not choking but possessively firm. His other hand was between your legs, two fingers plunged deep inside your pussy. A third finger rubbed against your clit, making you moan as pleasure coursed through you.
"You like that, darlin'?" he asked, nipping at your earlobe.
"You wanna play rough?" he asked , his voice gravelly with arousal.
All you could do was nod, unable to find your voice. You could feel your wetness running down your thighs. 
Arthur's fingers moved inside of you with precision and skill, finding that spot that sent you into a spiral of pleasure. He applied just the right amount of pressure, stroking and massaging until you were gasping for breath.
"Oh, God!" you cried out, your head falling back against his shoulder.
"You dirty little slut," he growled in your ear, his words sending another thrill of pleasure through you.
"You want me to take you right here, don't you?"
His fingers continued their relentless assault on your clit, each brush making it harder for you to breathe. You could only nod, whimpering as the pressure inside of you built higher and higher.
The thought of him taking you out here in the open, with the whole camp just a few feet away, was thrilling and terrifying all at once.
Arthur's hand tightened around your throat, not enough to cut off your air but enough to remind you who was in control. His breath was hot against your ear as he continued to plunder your pussy with his fingers. 
"You're mine," he growled, withdrawing his fingers from inside you with an audible pop before pushing you to bend over.
Your hands braced against a nearby tree, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. The cold night air didn't stand a chance against the heat radiating off of your flushed skin.
Arthur hiked up your dress, exposing your nakedness to the elements. You shivered in anticipation, a whimper escaping your lips as you felt him fumbling with his belt and pants. His hard length sprang free, hot and heavy against the curve of your ass.
Without warning, he thrust inside you, filling you up completely.
You gasped in pleasure as his cock bottomed out, the rough hair on his balls tickling your clit with each movement.
"Oh, fuck me," you groaned, pushing back against him in an attempt to take him deeper.
Arthur took the hint and began to move, thrusting into you with the raw force of an animal. Each stroke hit deep inside you, touching something that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body.
The cool night air around you contrasted sharply with the heat building inside of you, stoked by each punishing stroke.
Arthur's callused hands gripped your hips, holding you still as he fucked you with a ferocity that left you gasping for breath.
"You're so tight, so wet, darlin'," he grated out, his voice low and strained. "So fucking perfect."
His praise only served to drive you higher, to push you closer to the edge of ecstasy. You could feel yourself getting close, that familiar tension starting to build deep inside of you.
"Don't stop," you begged, as he slammed into you again and again.
Leaning over you he grabbed your neck once again.
In a low gutteral growl he demanded,
"Say it, darlin'. Tell me who the fuck you belong to."
You could feel his breath against your neck, hot and heavy.
Without a moment of hesitation you moan out,
"You. I belong to you, Arthur."
His grip on your neck tightened in response, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine.
"That's right. You're mine and only mine. That fucker, Micah will never have you," he hissed, as he picked up the pace.
His hips moved with a fierce urgency, driving in and out of you with a bruising force. With each thrust, the tree bark dug into your hands, leaving small crescent moons imprinted on your palms. You didn't care; you welcomed the pain. It was another reminder that this man, this outlaw cowboy, was claiming you as his own.
Your pussy clenched around him, gripping him tight as the tension inside of you reached its breaking point.
With a cry of pleasure, you toppled over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you like a wildfire. Your vision went white, and for a moment, the only thing you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears. You had never felt anything like this before, not even with Arthur.
But somehow, Arthur seemed to know exactly what to do. His cock remained rock-hard inside of you as your pussy clenched in spasms around him. He continued to thrust into you, causing another wave of pleasure to crash over you.
You had never been so filled up, so completely and utterly dominated by a man.
"Please, Arthur, please," you begged, not knowing what exactly you were asking for.
Arthur obliged, quickening his pace as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the cool night air. He let go of your neck and reached around to grip your breasts. He pinched and pulled at your nipples, eliciting a high-pitched cry from your lips with every stroke.
The combination of the pain and pleasure pushed you higher and higher, and you could feel another orgasm rushing towards you like a tidal wave.
"You come for me again, like a good girl," he growled. 
Arthur never slowed down. In fact, if anything, he picked up his pace. With one hand still gripping your breast, the other moved down between your legs. His fingers found your clit, already swollen and sensitive from the attention it had received, and began to rub slow circles around it.
Each rotation made your hips buck, seeking more friction. You could feel yourself getting close to the edge again, and it was a sensation that both thrilled and terrified you.
"That's it, darlin'," Arthur growled in your ear, his breath hot on your neck. "Come for me again."
His words were like a trigger, and with one final thrust of his hips, you toppled over the edge once more. Waves of pleasure washed over you, making your legs tremble and your vision go black.
Your orgasm seemed to last an eternity, each contraction of your muscles sending a jolt of pure ecstasy through your body.
Finally, you collapsed against the tree trunk, gasping for breath as your racing heart slowed. Arthur withdrew from you slowly, leaving you feeling sore and empty. You knew there would be bruises on your hips and thighs tomorrow, but you didn't care. The pain was a reminder of what you had just experienced.
Arthur pulled up his pants and turned you around, gathering you into his arms.
You could feel the tremors wracking your body, and he chuckled, kissing the top of your head.
"Easy there, darlin'," he said softly. "Let's get you inside."
He led you back to camp, his arm around your waist for support. The men around the fire watched as you passed, but no one said a word. They all knew that Arthur had claimed you and were wise enough to keep their opinions to themselves.
Arthur threw a blanket over your shoulders, tucking it around you to stave off the chill in the air.
When you reached Arthur's tent, he gently guided you inside, settling you onto his bed. You could still feel the aftershocks of pleasure rippling through your body, leaving you feeling almost boneless.
"Don't move," Arthur said softly, before disappearing into the night.
You lay there on his bed, wrapped in the warmth of his blanket and the memories of what had just transpired between you.
Your skin was still flushed from the heat of your bodies, and you could feel every tender inch of your flesh that Arthur had touched.
He returned a few minutes later, carrying a steaming bowl of water and a washcloth in one hand. He set them down on the small table next to the bed before kneeling between your legs. The intimacy of the moment was not lost on you, and you couldn't help but blush at the thought of him seeing you vulnerable and exposed.
But then, Arthur had already seen every inch of your body, had already claimed you as his own.
The memory of his fingers inside you, the scrape of his fingernails against your sensitive flesh, made a shiver run down your spine. You wanted him again, wanted to feel the weight of him above you, wanted to hear the rough growl of his voice as he thrust inside you.
Arthur's eyes met yours, and you could see the hunger in them. He knew exactly what you were thinking, knew exactly what you needed.
He took the washcloth from the bowl and wrung it out before bringing it to your core. You gasped as the warm water washed over you, soothing your sensitive skin. Arthur's touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he cleaned you up before tossing the cloth aside.
"Open for me," Arthur said gruffly, his eyes never leaving yours.
You obeyed without hesitation, spreading your legs wide so that he had full access to your dripping pussy. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, his cock twitching in his pants.
"Fuck, you're soaked," he said, his voice low and raspy. You blushed at his words, feeling self-conscious but also turned on. You had never been so wet for anyone before.
Arthur's eyes held a primal hunger that made your heart race and your skin flush. You watched as he stood, slowly undoing the buttons of his pants, letting them fall to the ground. His cock was already hard, already pointing at you like an accusatory finger.
"Please," you whispered, not even sure what you were begging for.
"All in good time," Arthur said, crooking a finger at you. "Come here."
You stood, moving towards him on shaky legs.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breath hitching as you watched him stroke his cock.
"That's it, darlin'," Arthur growled, his voice thick with desire.
You stopped in front of him, your hands trembling as you reached out to touch him. The skin of his cock was like velvet over steel, and the heat of him made you gasp. Arthur's eyes fluttered closed as you began to stroke him, matching the rhythm of his own hand.
"That's right, darlin'," he murmured, "just like that."
You whimpered as he took your hand in his and wrapped it around his cock, guiding you in how he liked to be touched. His other hand came to rest on the small of your back, pulling you closer until your breasts were pressed against his chest.
"Look at me," he commanded, and you obeyed, gazing into his eyes as you continued to stroke him. They were dark with desire, filled with a fierce hunger that made your stomach clench with anticipation.
With his free hand he began unbuttoning your blouse, revealing your breasts and tight hard nipples.  He bent down and sucked one into his mouth, biting down gently and teasing the sensitive bud with his tongue.
"Oh, God," you moaned, your grip on his cock tightening as pleasure coursed through you.
He switched to the other nipple, lavishing it with attention until both were hard peaks of desire. All the while, you continued to stroke him, mimicking the motion of his hand on his own cock.
His fingers tightened on your hip as he guided you towards the bed.
His other hand was still wrapped around your own, working the length of his cock in a slow but steady pace.  You could feel the heat radiating off of him, scorching your chest as he feasted on your tits.
The pleasure was so intense it almost brought you to tears, but Arthur's hand on your hips held you firmly in place, pinning you between the heat of his body and the cold of the bed behind you.
"Goddamn, girl," he grunted against your skin, biting down on your nipple.
"You're so wet for me, aren't you?"
You could only nod, too lost in pleasure to form words. His fingers found your entrance, slipping inside easily as you moaned in appreciation.
"So fucking tight," he growled, his fingers crooked and hitting that spot deep within you that made you see stars.
He pumped them in and out of you at a slow pace, drawing out the sensation until you were begging for more.
"Please," you gasped, reaching down to grip his wrist.
Arthur's fingers slowed, and he looked up at you with a wicked gleam in his eye. "Please what?"
"Please," you begged, your voice hoarse with desire. "I need more."
He smirked, pulling his fingers out of you with a wet sound. You whimpered at the loss, but before you could protest, he pressed his cock against your entrance.
"You ready for me?" he asked, his voice low and husky. You couldn't speak, so you nodded frantically.
He quickly turned you around and held your hip with one hand and pushed your back down with the other.
You planted your palms on the bed and locked your elbows.
Tonight he was all about dominance and control, and you couldn't help but submit to him.
He spread your cheeks apart and paused to admire the beauty of your body, before slowly pushing the tip of his cock inside you.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.
His grip tightened on your hips as he thrust into you, filling you up with a force that left you gasping for breath.
He wasn't gentle or considerate - he was raw and unhinged, exactly how you liked it.
The roughness of his treatment only heightened your pleasure and excitement, your slick pussy gripping him tightly as he thrust into you. With each stroke, you felt yourself get closer to the edge until you finally tumbled over the brink, crying out as the ecstasy washed over you in waves.
Arthur didn't let up, continuing to pound into you with reckless abandon until he too reached his end. You collapsed on the bed, panting heavily as he pulled out and flopped down next to you.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
You could hear your own breathing, shallow and labored, and the sound of Arthur's chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. The air in the tent was thick and heavy with the scent of sweat and sex, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as you lay there, sated and spent.
Arthur was the first to break the silence. "You okay, darlin'?" he asked, turning to face you. His eyes were soft, concerned, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for him.
You nodded weakly, still trying to catch your breath. Arthur smiled and pulled you into a tight embrace, his hand gently stroking your hair as you tried to regain some semblance of normalcy.
But the truth was, nothing about this felt normal. You had just experienced something intense and primal, something that went beyond mere physical pleasure. It was as if Arthur had claimed a piece of your soul, and it left you feeling both elated and terrified all at once.
As the silence stretched on, you couldn't help but feel the weight of what had just happened bearing down on you.
  Your body still hummed with pleasure, but your mind was racing, trying to process the events that had unfolded between you and Arthur.
Arthur's arms tightened around you, as if sensing your thoughts. "Don't worry about it too much," he murmured in your ear, his voice soft and soothing. "We both wanted it, and there's nothin' wrong with that."
His words seemed to calm you, and you relaxed into his embrace. But as the minutes ticked by and you felt yourself drifting off to sleep, a sudden thought struck you.  
Had anyone else in the camp heard you and Arthur? The idea of being caught in the act sent a thrill of fear down your spine, but it also fueled your desire.
With a sly grin, you reached out and wrapped your hand around Arthur's growing erection, giving it a squeeze. "Again?" you whispered in his ear.
Arthur groaned and rolled on top of you, pinning you beneath him. "You're insatiable," he growled, his eyes dark with desire.
"Only for you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
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moonfirerainbow · 2 days
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Regarding the Watcher drama, it’s interesting that some people don’t seem to understand the outrage the horrible (now rectified) business decision caused. The attacks at the three of them and their circle of people are inexcusable, especially with racism playing a role in this. This is not a defense of the disgusting behavior some of the fandom displayed. I think it’s pretty short sighted to claim that people being genuinely hurt and critical of the decision, are being ridiculous. The fans are very attached to Ryan and Shane, for many reasons, and while it is a parasocial relationship, it doesn’t mean that it has any less value in someone’s life. Personally, I was a fan of Shane and Ryan because they seem to be normal dudes who aren’t assholes, and have some funny banter together. The apology is great, but the distrust is now there. The outrage is because Watcher has only succeeded because the fans have been providing the stats that result in the money they earn, outside of Patreon, merch and live show tickets. If less people watched, they’d have less paid ads and sponsorships. If we didn’t submit our stories, ghost evidence, ideas, questions, art etc, they wouldn’t have as much content to make. If we didn’t engage and tag and make them trend and like their videos to get the algorithm in their favor, they would sink into the abyss of search results. It’s not entitled to feel that the subscription was a slap in the face to the loyalty of the fans. I honestly think this is a misguided, mismanaged and misread derived situation. It’s not bad that they want to make more content, and had they started with announcing that they want to move in the direction of a streaming service so they aren’t dependent on or restricted by YouTube, reception would have been much different. Anyway, I’m happy about the apology, but honestly they are on thin ice for me.
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placeinthisworld · 1 day
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ttpdta review part one 🤠
let me preface this by stating that i am a swiftie first and person second in this situation. i have grown up with taylor and feel as if shes my big sister- yes i can make fun of her but if i see anyone else do it i will get fiercely protective. i do understand her music is not only art but also her form of therapy. that being said, throughout these nonsense notes i am constantly mentioning that taylor should go to therapy. i am aware of what she has said about therapy (and why she doesn’t go) but i would beg to differ with her…especially after this album release lol.
taylor is an extraordinary storyteller and song writer. i believe this album is full of evidence of that, but it also has some faults that prevent from being as good as i felt like it could have been. overall the album feels rushed.
i also feel like it’s important to recognize the elephant in the room. i know we probably all expected this to be a joe breakup album, so the fact that it turned out to be a “fuck you matty healy” album shook us all a little bit. i know matty had a controversial history, im not gonna sit here and defend him. i don’t know much about him other than what is forced against my will. i do however know that he struggles with mental health issues/ substance abuse/ addiction. i’m not gonna comment much about his personal issues, i don’t feel like that’s right and taylor’s constant references to drugs throughout ttpd definitely rubs me the wrong way. i should also mention i grew up with an active addict and do view things from that perspective, so i feel slightly triggered by the topic and my feelings about that may just be personal but i do mention that in my notes when it’s relevant.
lastly, i am not a music production girlie idk shit lol. i only know i am a aaron dessner stan so any song with his name im already biased towards and i am aware, if u don’t like that idk what to tell u lol. i just know what i feel like is “good” or “bad” but music is subjective🫶🏻
1. Fortnight:
Hate the functional alcoholic part. Like the beat, the chorus is catchy. One thing i love about a taylor swift song is that theres always a story and its always visual. I like the metaphor of the “good neighbors” of like having this teasing/ longing feeling for someone that you could have had a life with. “Your wife waters flowers/ i want to kill her + my husbands cheating/ i want to kill him” feeling like you were robbed of her life, feeling “all my mornings are mondays stuck in an endless february” reminiscing about the short period of time where you were together and convinced it would last forever (only for it to end before it even started). I do not listen to much post malone but i enjoyed his verse!! So many florida references we get it everything bad happens in florida.
i have not seen the video yet oooopsies
2. Ttpd:
i thought this was the opening of Hey Stephen (the remix) or something at first. gotta say i absolutely love the way she sings “you left your typewriter at my apartment/ straight from the tortured poets department” i enjoyed the vibe of this song, and lyrics up until the “you smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate (OKAY SOOOOOOO ME CODED NGL I LAUGHED at this point i could let this lyric slide- bit then she had to mention the charlie puth and golden retriever thing and ngl it almost ruins the song entirely for me. Tbh when i first listened to the leak i thought this was a fake AI song and that i was sending around a fake leak bc these lyrics started to get a little weird to me. ‘Sometimes i wonder if youre gonna screw this up with me/ but you told lucy you’d kill yourself if i ever leave” …………girl i am begging you to see a therapist (side note did anyone else have a friend in hs whos bf would say that shit a lot?? I remember straight up fighting with a friend who refused to break up w her bf bc he would threaten to end his own life is she did and he was like 16? If an adult is saying that same shit i would be Very concerned not gossiping about it???) “i chose this cyclone with you” my first reaction was: ride the cyclone the musical? Overall i liked the first half but you lost me at charlie puth (hes the one with eyebrow right? I think i get him and miles teller mixed up) (i dont know who either of these men are)
3. My boy only breaks his favorite things:
Okay tbh i thought this was gonna be one of my least favorites, but the total opposite happened. I think this is one of my top 5 favorites on this album. I do think that there is a difference between a poem and a song and that they are not always interchangeable. I feel like if this was edited into a poem it would be KILLER. The visuals, the the story, the vocabulary, the sadness in it. “Im queen of sandcastles he destroys/ There was danger in the heat of my touch/ once i fix me/ hes gonna miss me/ i felt more when we played pretend then with all the kens / cause he took me out of my box” i feel like ever since folklore, taylors been trying to push these big fancy words and sometimes it feels awkward and forced, but this is one of the rare songs that doesn't suffer from that.
4. Down bad:
meh. Chorus is catchy. I dont love the narrative “fuck it if i cant have him/ i might just it would make no difference” but i also have never once experienced that over a person before lmao……….taylor go to therapy. Nothing really stands out about this to me otherwise. No offense, but it sounds like a generic jack antonoff song lol. Like maybe if another artist released this, i would enjoy it more but idk i wouldnt expect it from taylor i guess. Just kinda feels boring to me sorry if u enjoy it <3
5. So long, london:
oh man were done with british men now for real for real. “ two graves one gun. I'll find someone” its over for joe and matty (but thats fine if all she has to say about joe is what i think she said on this album i am happy i think We Get It…) Aaron dessner i love u (remember when he reposted me on his ig ahh).”i kept calm and carried the weight of the rift/ pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away” + “I stopped trying to make him laugh/ stopped trying to drill the safe/ i didnt opt in to be our odd man out/ im pissed off you let me give you all of that youth for free” oof i FELT that one a LITTLE too hard. I think this is both a song about matty and joe- i think she had a life and an attachment to london just in general through both relationships, “im just mad as hell because i loved this place” and so reflecting back on how both are over and how all those plans with either are done. “You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days” OKAY kinda hate this phrase bc it feels like shes placing blame on whomever’s mental health/ depression, like as if they made the conscious decision to sacrifice the relationship solely. This very much feels like “how much sadness did you think i could take before i got bored???” overall top favorite songs bc it doesnt have too many cringey or odd lyrics and the production is 10/10 thank u aaron dessner ilysm king
6. But daddy i love him:
tbh when i got the leak this was the first song i listened to bc i thought it was gonna be the worst one and i wanted to get it over with (i was RIGHT until she dropped that second half……..) and i DIDNT have the lyrics obviously so i couldnt for the life of me figure out if she really said “im having his baby…..NO IM NOT!” until the VERY end of the song and bro…….the cringe. The cringe. The cringe. This is also when i started to question if this was real or if i was passing out a fake leak, lol. I dont understand how she could be saying this shit about matty. And like we all know it lol. “Sometimes growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all” …….but like does it??? I feel like thats kinda an oxymoron or something like i understand what shes trying to say and MOST of the time her metaphors and comparisons make sense to me but like this one doesnt. Growing up precocious means to grow up more advanced in maturity, how would that also mean not growing up at all? Is it just me getting stoned and overthinking things? “Ill tell you something about my good name/ its mine alone to disgrace” true that bestie ur doin a great job by being so politically quiet over the past couple of yeats after making a whole asss documentary about wanting to be on the right side of history. But I digress i am just one of those bitches performing soliloquies you'll never see. Overall this song is very weird and cringey imo and i wish it stayed in whatever vault it was sitting in lol.
7.Fresh out of the slammer: “In the shade of how he was feeling” -_- dont like this narrative already. I could honestly go on a rant about why i dont like this song but im going to spare for the sake of my sanity in this review of thirty one fucking songs but its along these lines “to the one who says im the girl of his american dreams” oh brother. otherwise i dont care for many of the lyrics, the chorus/ melody/vibe is mid i guess. It sounds like another jack song (i was right)
8. Florida!!!: “all my friends smell like weed or little babies” okay i know what she was trying to say but im SORRY you cant tell me she couldnt think of ANY other way to say her friends are either parents partiers lmao. Deserves jail for that but luckily the vibe and the chorus of the song are really catchy and florence’s voice is beautiful in it. “Well me and my ghost we had a hell of a time/ yes im haunted but im feeling just fine” CHILLS i loved it. I didnt think i would like this song but (maybe as much as i like no body, no crime which is meh) but no i lowkey love this song and think its really fun. Once again the drug references start to get heavy here in the album and like i mentioned i do get slightly triggered by drug mentions.
9. Guilty as sin?:
okay taylor we get it you masterbate. Another strong jack song and it’s pretty similar to others on the album so nothing besides the sexual lyrics stand out.
10. Whos afraid of little old me?:
“if you wanted me dead you should have just said/ nothing makes me feel more alive” ooooooooooh i love that. I feel like a live or an acoustic version of this song would give me CHILLS. “Is it a wonder i broke / lets hear one more joke/ then we can all laugh until i cry” honestly so relatable, “i was tame, i was gentle til the circus life made me mean” oh :( that hurt bc it just reminds me of the vibe shift during midnights era/ eras tour where it *feels* like she started to pull back from being taylor swift and started to become Taylor Swift (™) and the way her fans/ media has treated her made her mean or cold or something and that just makes me feel sad. “Whos afraid of little old me? You caged me and then you called me crazy! I am what i am cause you trained me! SO. WHOS. AFRAID. OF ME? Again the narcotics line kinda makes me feel icky but thats bc i have that thing about drugs and just dont LOVE all the references to them. Like i know its not that serious but theres a reason why i dont seek out artists that typically talk or write about that stuff ya know so its weird. Overall i think the production is one of the most unique ones on this part of the album.
11. I can fix him (no really i can):
i hate it all around i think. I hate the narrative of “i can fix him!! I can handle a dangerous man!!! No really i can!!!” there is a reason why this song is barely 3 mins long lol it should have been cut but i think taylor wanted to Be Edgy. i dont care for the productions or the lyrics, its very forgetful imo.
12. Loml:
okay i really thought this was gonna be a joe song (rip) so i was thinking it was gonna be really deep and sad and like it IS but with the context of it being the pt 2 fling with matty it doesnt seem like it now. Anyone who thinks this is not about matty please look at the lyrics and be so serious “whos gonna stop us from waltzing back into reklndled flames/ if we know the steps anyway��� I think matty just said too much shit to taylor during their fling and taylor WAS truly convinced this her invisible string and he promised her a lot that he couldnt upkeep and ghosted her and she took it SUPER hard, i mean two breakups in one year is a lot (me, whos never been through a single breakup once). I just dont understand how she feels like matty is the greatest loss of her life. One of my favorite tracks on the album, “our field of dreams engulfed in fire/ your arsons match your somber eyes” a LOT of these lyrics are actually really good imo. I think im the only one that didnt find the “mr. steal your girl and make her cry” line idk i thought it was actually kinda neat, the phrasing of it, kinda contradicts the title “love of my life” because he was never that serious or respectful of her and only use her from the beginning. This is another song that i think would make KILLER poem over song. Overall i think the piano is haunting and a live version of this will make me die, thank u again aaron dessner 10/10
13. I can do it with a broken heart:
ngl i thought this was the opening to mastermind for a hot second- also gave me a scare on whether or not this was a fake leak lol. Catchy ass chorus but very YOYOK. “Breaking down i hit the floor/ All the pieces of me shattered/ as the crowd was shouting “more!” ooffffffff seeeeee that is exactly WHAT i was afraid she was feeling durning the eras tour after the joe breakup/ matty situation and all these stupid twitter and tik tok swiffers were out here overanalyzing EVERYTHING and demanding rep tv like every other day. “Im so depressed i act like its my birthday” …….okay taylor. Like a lot of people have said, i think she interchanges “depressed” for “sad” a lot and the two are not the same. I think taylor wrote this song (but specifically the “i cry a lot time but i am so productive” and was like “yup this part is gonna go viral on tik tok,” initially i wrote “feels like taylor saw that depression barbie commercial in barbie 2023 and wrote a song based on that” lol which i still agree with. Overall the production of this screams midnights reject lol, very jack antonoff. Over time this song has grown on me a lot. Originally i didnt care for it but now its kind of a bop but i think its bc its so similar to YOYOK. “Try and come for my job” @taylorswift deadass you couldn’t think of anything else to say instead. cmon. I was mostly on board until that very last part, just seemed very cheesy lol like its not a big deal but i thought it delivered well without it.
14. The smallest man who ever lived:
(aaron thank u for saving me and this entire album) “they just ghosted you/ now you know what it feels like” OUCH. “i dont even want you back i just want you to know/ if rusting my sparkling was the goal/ and i dont miss what we had but can someone give/ a message to the smallest man who ever lived” oh this was somber af. I am obsessed with the phrasing of the chorus. I also LOVE taylors deeper voice its def giving me the same feelings MTR gave me from folklore, that made me CRY and this was very similar. This is another classic taylor song that i could EASILY write like a ten page essay about if someone put a gun to my head. I know that its about a *romantic* relationship, but it feels general enough to be able to relate to anyone who is close to someone with an addiction or struggles with substances. A lot of addicts dont understand the impact of their addiction or their behaviors that they display while struggling. To meeeeee, this feels very much like “you were self centered and betrayed my trust, was any of this true? Real? Am i paranoid or is this that deep?” “it wasnt sexy once it wasnt forbidden” has me thinking lots of things. I think that describes taylors “type”if that makes sense? Like i said i would need to literally break this song down line by line like its ridiculous i have too many thoughts about this song i have listened to it on repeat six times by the time im typing this. “In public showed me off/ then sank in stoned oblivion” FUCK. “you treat her like an also-ran” honestly i have never heard of that phrase/word thank u dr. swift. “Were you sent by someone who wanted me DEAD/ did you sleep with a GUN underneath OUR BED/ were you writing a BOOK?/ were you a sleeper cell SPY? IN 5O YEARS WILL THIS BE ALL DECLASSIFIED?/ AND YOU’LL CONFESS WHY YOU DID IT!/ AND ILL SAY GOOD RIDDANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” tears were formed besties. Also love the gracie abrams reference. “And you deserve prison but you wont get time” i feel like is very metaphorical like you DESERVE to be punished for what you did to me but you won’t admit to the guilt, you wont admit your wrongdoings, you wont admit that i would have done anything for you and you have no problem replacing me. “You said normal girls were boring/ but you were gone by the morning” first of all red flag girlie, nonetheless heartbreaking. “And in plain sight you hid/ but you are what you did” i say this with all the love in my heart, someone take taylor swift to a really good really private therapist. I could say more but i think i need to move on because i am now on my eighth cyle of listening to this song.
15. The alchemy:
already kinda hate it. “What if i told you im back/ the hospital was a drag/ worst sleep i ever had” do you think taylor swift has ever been admitted to a real hospital in this context. Feels very out of place and like i said earlier i dont love the psych ward visuals/ references she keeps inserting in this album. “He jokes its heroin but this time with an e” thanks! I fucking hate that line so much. Feels very icky, not funny. I get what shes going for but it falls so flat for me. The football references (yall know my opinion on meathead!!!!!!!! I will not engage!!!) are fucking dumb. Production is kinda lame and uninterested. Will only listen to this song if by force and will not repeat it ive head enough lets move on.
i have Lots Of Thoughts. i don’t think anyone cares about what i have to say though so i don’t think i’ll bother posting the rest lol but i did do a lot of work so ill post just a bit to make myself feel better.
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daenerysstormreborn · 7 hours
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Time to ramble. I’m thinking about the way Arya and Sansa fans seem to get into this debate about who was more lonely and neglected in Winterfell. Which is kind of funny because then the arguments get totally reversed when debating other aspects of the characters. But anyway. The general arguments seem to be:
1. Arya was clearly the neglected outcast. This is clear in the meta narrative because of her connection to Jon and the fact that she doesn’t look like her true born siblings. The more direct evidence comes from the way Sansa and Jeyne teased her, the harshness of Septa Mordane, and Catelyn’s exasperation. It can be inferred that Arya feels a sense of insecurity wrt to her family ties as she wonders if her own mother would want her back after everything that happened. It can be assumed that she was a bit of an outcast based on her disinterest in the things expected of her as a girl, and we see the way many characters look down upon non-conforming women and girls in-universe. Sansa, on the other hand, receives praise from her mother and the septa and has two named close friends in Winterfell. She happily conforms to what is expected of her as a highborn girl and we can assume she would fit in in Winterfell.
2. Sansa was clearly the neglected outcast. This is clear in the meta narrative because she is the only one to lose her direwolf, which is the family symbol. The more direct evidence comes from contrast with Arya, whom Sansa observes can “make friends with anybody,” seemingly in contrast to herself. Ned agreed to kill Lady despite knowing she was innocent and indulged Arya’s interest in swordplay whilst being unenthusiastic about indulging Sansa’s interest in tourneys. Arya is demonstrated to be beloved by Ned’s men in a way we do not observe with Sansa. We can assume that Sansa didn’t feel like she belonged because of her interest in sothron culture, something none of her siblings share. Arya, on the other hand, is extroverted, makes friends easily, is northern in appearance, and has no interest in sothron culture, so we can assume she fit in in Winterfell.
I actually don’t think a lot of the points in the two arguments is mutually exclusive. We also have to remember POV bias. Arya doesn’t reflect on Any friends her age she had at Winterfell (I am not including Mycah because I am under the impression they became friends on the way to King’s Landing), but Arya is not one to reflect and reminisce. Sansa notices that Arya can make friends with anyone, but she doesn’t experience Arya’s inner world. What does Sansa mean by making friends? Does she see Arya having fun and being at ease talking to anyone and feel envy, since she herself feels like is performing, always minding her manners, when she’s socializing with most people? Could it be that Arya is friendly but struggles to find long term close friends like Jeyne and Beth, attributing this disparity to Sansa’s “ladylike” interests? Could it be that being teased by Sansa and her friends and scolded by Catelyn and Mordane has made Arya assume that other girls wouldn’t be interested in close friendship with her, causing her to be friendly but keep a certain distance? (**please note I am not trying to make a case for nlog Arya. I think keeping a distance because you assume you’ll be rejected is different and does not require that she looks down upon other girls, because there is no evidence for that here**)
I don’t have a good conclusion I just think it’s interesting that this is something that gets debated because the truth is probably somewhere in the middle. We can’t know because we get very few flashbacks and the story picks up when their normal lives in Winterfell end. I can’t speak to George’s intentions but if we pretend they’re real people I’d speculate that both would have felt misplaced within Winterfell at times, envying certain traits about the other
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I've made. S o m a n y. Attempts at analyzing Vox's relationship with the fuckin Angel & Val bullshit. So many. But they always come out sounding like fucking word salad. So instead, I'm going to try making a bulleted list of all the different pieces of evidence I've gathered, and then simply not draw a conclusion because I don't fUCKING KNOW-
Vox does not like Angel
Vox seemed excited at the prospect of Angel quitting(despite knowing he physically can't?)
Like his eyes *literally* lit up he was so excited(the same way Velvette's did when she was yelling about wrist ruffles & Carmilla's did during Whatever It Takes)
Saying "Angel quit?" could've been him joking, but between his expression, tone of voice, and the context surrounding the line, I don't think that's the case?
That line is weird as fuck man...
There are two reasons Vox doesn't like Angel: Val constantly freaking the fuck out over minor Angel-related things & he's probably jelous of how much space Angel takes up in Val's brain
Vox does not seem to care for Angel's well being, probably viewing him as nothing more then a cash cow
I say "seem" and "probably" because it IS significantly more likely that Vox doesn't give a shit, but we haven't seen Angel & Vox interacting one on one yet, so there's still a chance I could be wrong and Vox does care in some capacity? Again significantly more likely he doesn't I'm just trying to cover all my bases here
Which speaking of- we don't know how Angel feels about Vox at all? Like aside from Vox's cameo in Poison(Angel's pseudo-dream sequence), we don't actually get Angel's perspective on Vox. Ever.
Like I'd assume Angel doesn't LIKE him just by virtue of his relationship with Val but there's no real way to tell?
Vox(seemingly) hasn't done anything to deal with Val's weird issues with Angel
He probably can't get rid of Angel entirely because of the loss in profits
But he also hasn't attempted to limit Angel's ability to leave the studio or anything, and he hasn't done anything to Val that might discourage his irrational behavior
He's actually pretty hands off when it comes to all of the other Vees' shit just like. In general. The only time we see him interfering is when Val is destroying Velvette's stuff
Vox doesn't seem to give a shit that Angel moved out of the studio
Like he isn't even happy about it just true neutrality-
He only STARTS caring when Val starts threatening to shoot up a building about it(read: when his image is now on the line)
The look Vox gives Angel in Poison just kind of proves he. Doesn't like Angel. And is kissing(but appearently not dating???) Valentino.
The fact that the blood drips, which are usually on the left side of his mouth, are coming off of the right instead during this scene FEELS important but that's another topic entirely so I won't go into it here
Also, as stated before, Poison is a pseudo-dream sequence, so this scene might be less about how Vox views Angel and more about how Angel views Vox
But if that's the case, I cannot for the life of me decipher what the fuck Angel feels about Vox from this one shot so it's pretty much useless for now 💀💀💀
Alright that's it. I tried my best to be impartial and just write down what we know about the characters while also pointing out any gaps in information we might have, but if you think I'm being too generous or too harsh with any of these bullets and feel the need to tell me, PLEASE be nice about it and also use tone indicators. I don't wanna sound like a whiney baby or whatever the fuck but I genuinely cannot handle feeling like a stranger is yelling at me rn and tone indicators help me a LOT in that department.
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supercalime · 9 hours
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I know Buck wasn’t originally written as bisexual but looking back to season 2, you actually can interpret buck being attracted to eddie. He may even had a little crush on him. But Eddie being canonically straight didn’t show any romantic or sexual interest towards buck. I think if he was canonically gay and interested in buck and made any moves towards it, he could have had his bi awakening or realization back then and could have caught serious romantic feelings for Eddie. You can’t deny some parallels between his first meeting with eddie and with tommy. The unknown jealousy and the ranting about them. But because eddie is straight and never showed any sign of beeing into buck, his (maybe) feelings for eddie turned into an incredibly great friendship. That’s why I think his feelings for Tommy are very real and don’t have anything to do with Eddie. Tommy is canonically gay and reciprocated the feelings and attraction to buck. He was the one who made the first move and kissed buck. Buck was clearly interested in him and tried to get his attention. I do think that if tommy wasn’t interested in him and didn’t kiss him, buck still wouldn’t have figured out that he’s bisexual and his feelings towards him probably would’ve eventually turned into friendly feelings. I personally tend to hope for bucktommy rather than buddie but I wouldn’t be mad if buddie became canon. But I think the only way would be to make eddie demisexual, because there were really no signs that he likes men in any way other than his strong connection and chemistry with buck. Different from buck where you can retrospectively see many unintentional signs.
Oh yeah! I want to make it abundantly clear that I’m all in the bucktommy train 100%
I fell in love with them and I’m more in favor of them than the ship that shall not be named. I can’t stress it enough, I want bucktommy to be endgame. I’m a bucktommy slut.
I do believe you can look back and see clues that maybe buck was into eddie, whether that was intentional or not. I believe the writers accidentally queer coded him and when they noticed they decided to run with it when they got the green light from the network.
But as you said, he could have had an initial crush on a friend and that changed with time. And that is completely fine! It doesn’t mean he had been in love with him the whole time and repressing it. Of course there is the possibility that buck and eddie can be an item, if the writers decide to go that route.
That being said, as of now, there are no concrete evidence on screen that buck and eddie were/are going in that direction. Like you said, eddie hasn’t shown he’s into men/buck and if buck was into eddie since the beginning and vice versa, i believe the writers would have pushed that queer coding to the max she-ra style to force the network to get them together. There had been opportunities for the writers to not be that ambiguous.
And yes! The canon bi buck storyline is not about Eddie and it shouldn’t be even if buck and eddie are supposed to be endgame. All the signs since 07x03 (when Buck touched Tommy’s shoulder and we all got a little bit of the gay vibe) have pointed that Buck had been into tommy and mistook who he was placing the jealousy on during 07x04. It’s a classic trope and I hate that b*ddie stans conveniently forgot how misdirection works to feed into what they want (not only that, but also stating as fact). When 07x05 rolled around and we got the coming out scene, it’s clear to me that there was no intention to place bucks attraction to men on eddie or eddie also realizing he’s queer. It would have been the perfect opportunity to sprinkle in some queer eddie but there was not even a subtle hint of that in that entire scene and I honestly hope their friendship stays that way.
Not to be a bitch but, why can’t they “just” be friends? It’s so rare to have these archetypes of characters be as vulnerable and devoted to each other, without an ounce of toxic masculinity, being true friends and nothing else. I whole heartedly believe what buck and eddie have is even bigger than family or romance, they are each others rocks and defining them as brothers or “husbands” does a disservice to their relationship. I think of them more as platonic soulmates. They are others ride or die, which reminds me a lot of Marjan and Paul from lone star (they have a very similar dynamic and despite theoretically having the possibility of being a couple - as a straight woman and straight man - I don’t see them going that way ever because that’s not what their relationship is. They love each other, would literally die for each other but are not and will never see each other as potential romantic partners).
On a waaaaaaaaay lighter note: I’m excited for next episode. We are surely getting more bucktommy and I simply can’t wait to see what the writers have cooking up for this lovely ship!
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wil-o-wispy · 2 days
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The Wife, the Lover, and the Bastard Son - Part 4
Chris Redfield x Fem!Reader (he'll be in the next part)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (You are here)
Summary: Your past comes back to haunt you in more ways than you thought possible.
Contents: Major spoilers for RE6, canon typical violence/swearing, mentions of blood being drawn, improper use of a syringe as an improvised weapon, angsty Jake content, angsty plot content, descriptions of blood and violence, dialogue heavy chapter. Reader is referred to as 'Doc' and is the wife of (dead) Albert Wesker and is a former Umbrella scientist.
a/n: Hey peeps. It's me ya boi. I regret nothing for the events that are about to unfold. Thanks for reading :)
w/c: 10.8k+
There is no feasible way out of the cell that you’re confined in. After an indiscernible amount of time being unconscious from the gas released in the specimen room, you woke up here. As far as prisons go, it’s not half bad; a spacious white chamber with a basic cot with white sheets in the middle of the room. In the corner across from it is a security camera with a red light. What makes this room different from your handful of previous kidnapping quarters, are the metal shutters to the right of the entrance to the room that takes up the entirety of the wall. Given the room you were in reminded you of chambers for infected test subjects, there was a likely chance you were being observed through the camera on the other side of the wall.
There’s a second difference as well. You woke up with the crook of your arm wrapped in gauze and a cotton swab. These people had drawn blood from you while you were knocked out. Probably to test if you were compatible for the new virus you’re sure they’re making.
All you can do is wait and see if you’re right.
You aren’t too worried about your involuntary confinement. Not yet anyway. These people evidently want you alive and in one piece. You’re not too sure if Jake would be given the same courtesy though. If he was as skilled as he said he was, you would be willing to bet he was already long gone. If that boy had any sense, he would be trying to find a radio right now to signal for help.
You don’t have to wait too long with your thoughts. A short time after, you hear white noise hum from the speaker and the familiar higher pitched male voice echoes around the chamber.
“Good day, Dr. Wesker.” The voice is the same one you heard from the thin silhouetted man when you first arrived. He speaks in a slow, deliberate tone.
“Hello.” You answer back looking directly into the camera, keeping your tone neutral.
“I understand you had a little -detour- on the way to your room.”
“I did.”
“I would encourage you not to indulge in your wanderlust again, but you strike me as the type to take that as a challenge.”
You narrow your eyes at the camera and purse your lips. You don’t want to give anything away that would confirm the man’s assumption is correct. When you continue to be silent, the man speaks again.
“Forgive me, we haven’t made a proper introduction. I am Youju, one of the head researchers for Neo Umbrella. Welcome to my facility.”
You can’t find it in you to even care who he is. It doesn’t matter in the grand scope of things. As far as you’re concerned, Umbrella (or Neo Umbrella) was still just a terrorist organization that made bioorganic weapons. You don’t care about the specifics of what that means unless it’s relevant to preventing an outbreak.
“Will you just cut to the chase?”
There’s a pause from the speaker. “Pardon?”
You sigh and cross your arms, still looking into the camera. “I’ve done this song and dance multiple times and I have no patience for the dramatics anymore. What do you want?”
Silence from the speaker. You let out an annoyed huff.
“Do you have a new virus you want to test out on me? An old one you revamped? I’ve been proposed with job offers before but I’m letting you know right now-”
“No, no miss. Your purpose here today is much more… personal.”
That can’t be good.
“So I’m here for revenge? You’re going to have to specify. Albert had a lot of enemies, and I couldn’t be bothered to keep up with them.”
“You misunderstand what I mean when I say personal.” You can hear an underlying tone of deviousness in that statement. Youju continues.
“Tell me doctor, how have I gone all these years without knowing Albert Wesker had a son?”
You stand in stunned silence. Wesker? A father? The thought makes you want to laugh in disbelief. The only thing that stops you from doing so is the confidence in Youju’s voice.
What kind of ploy is this?
Is he trying to get you to admit a secret you don’t even have? You spend the next few moments thinking over what the man had just said, when you hear him tap the mic, which results in your ears being assaulted with high pitched feedback and you reflexively covering your ears.
“I’m not a patient man, doctor. Answer me.” Youju’s words are drawn out with a mocking, sing-song voice.
You lower your hands and stare directly into the camera, making a conscious effort to keep your tone even. “We never had any kids.”
Silence falls over the chamber again. Long enough that you think Youju must have left. However, you hear his voice again, but this time you hear a smile in his words.
“… well this is quite an interesting development. I have someone I want to introduce you to. Mrs. Wesker.”
The tone in his voice clearly indicates he doesn’t believe you.
A deep metallic click sounds through the chamber before the metal shutters next to you begin to raise themselves up, groaning their whole journey to the ceiling. As they ascend, the shutters reveal a window to another room. Although surprisingly, there aren’t any Neo Umbrella personnel behind the glass. Instead, the panels reveal an identical chamber to yours, except it’s Jake on the other side of the glass sitting on the bed and leaning on his knees. The bottoms of his pants are covered in dark mud, a part of his sleeve looks scorched, and there’s a sizeable gash on his temple that had scabbed over next to his buzzed ginger hair. Blood that has long since dried had trickled down next to the large diagonal scar on the left side of his face. In other words, he’s much worse for wear than the last time you saw him. Whoever came into the room to investigate the alarm really did a number on him.
You see a discarded bundle of gauze with a slightly bloody cotton ball in Jake’s room. These people took blood from him too.
That grating voice over the loudspeaker interrupts your thoughts.
“Mr. Muller! I hope you’re finding your accommodations acceptable.”
Acceptable was a stretch, but at least your rooms had the bare necessities. You can’t say the same for your past accommodations with other organizations.
Jake shrugs and leans back, taking a look around the room. You hear his voice come from a hidden speaker near the window.
“Not bad, asshole. Feels like I’m shacking up at the Shitz Carlton.”
You would have smiled at that if that nagging sense of familiarity from earlier wasn’t still wracking your brain.
Where have I seen him before?
Youju quips back with that knowing tone over the speaker. “Even when corned in the lion’s den, you still have something witty to bite back with. Just like your father so I’m told.”
Jake’s carefree demeanor grows more rigid; shoulders squared, clenched jaw and sharpened expression. The man’s family is a sensitive subject.
“Where are my manners? Dr. Wesker have you had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Muller?”
It was hard to tell, but you could have sworn you saw Jake perk up at hearing your dreaded last name. You stare at him a moment longer.
“Can’t say I have before today.”
“Really? Are you certain?” The way Youju says that makes it seems like he’s trying to make you doubt an obvious answer to a trivia question. You stare at Jake, and he stares back, unblinking.
You turn back towards the camera.
“I would remember the scar. I haven’t met this man.”
“Interesting. Why don’t you look closer?”
The man from the speaker obviously wants to get some sort of point across to you, so you humor him. Sighing and shifting your weight, you turn to Jake. You look past the grime, the evidence of fights lost, and modern clothes.
You look at his face, his eyes…
You stop breathing.
You thought about what Youju had said before. Albert Wesker had a son.
Your mind races with a cacophony of scrambled thoughts over the next few seconds.
How did these people figure out Wesker had a son before you did? He looks like him. How did he go this long without being discovered? It’s likely Jake’s blood is special like Albert’s, so they’d want a promising candidate for virus injections. Who is his mother?
You don’t know where it comes from in the moment, but all you can picture is a displeased Albert holding a ginger headed baby, with his nice work shirt covered in spit up while another woman takes a picture and laughs.
It starts as a giggle, but the longer you think about this scenario, the more ridiculous the thought becomes and the harder it becomes to keep your shoulders still.
“So tell me doctor, what are your thoughts?” Youju replies smugly, waiting for your response.
You can’t help it. You start laughing like an insane woman. Jake’s existence was the cherry on top of an already stressful situation. Your body is exhausted from the journey here, you’re still processing the emotional whiplash from seeing and destroying the Uroboros sample, you’re mentally and emotionally done with everything that could possibly relate to Wesker and now you find out he has a son that isn’t yours? You just find the whole situation so absurd that you can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it.
It's clear that Youju doesn’t find your reaction amusing. His tone is cold and controlled when he speaks next. “Enlighten me Wesker, what could possibly be so funny?”
When you finally catch your breath, you look at the camera again with tears in your eyes from laughing so hard.
“This… establishment is really scraping the bottom of the barrel for bright and promising imbeciles, aren’t they?”
Silence, then the sound of a throat being cleared.
“Oh really? And why is that?”
Youju’s voice is flat. Controlled. You had struck something sensitive, and you intend to use it to your advantage to get a moment alone with Jake.
“Because this is ridiculous! Albert Wesker? A father- his father? Are we talking about the same Wesker?”
“His blood sample suggests otherwise-”
“And how do you know that exactly?”
Silence.
You let out a deranged cackle.
“I think I understand now. You found this stranger helping me in the middle of your ocean getaway, you thought he looked like Wesker, and your only plausible conclusion was that he has to be my son. So you’re comparing his DNA to mine because Wesker’s genome is impossible to find. Is that it?”
Youju struggles to stay composed under a guise of false confidence.
“Well we… any reputable institution would confirm hypotheses by… conducting their own independent tests and gathering their samples directly from the source.”
You hum and step a little closer to the camera.
“You know, Umbrella used to check their homework before going through the trouble of kidnapping persons of interest. Just goes to show that the copy is always going to be a letdown from the original.” You made sure to look straight into the camera when you say that, and it has the desired effect.
“You…I-I’ll know you’re lying one way or another soon Wesker!” Unlike before, there was no trace of confident humor. Instead, the voice spits out the words with prideful fury.
“Then by all means, do it. Waste everyone’s time. Hell, I’ll even volunteer for another blood sample when it comes back negative.”
It’s silent for a long time until the white noise from the speaker cuts out and all you can hear is the fluorescent lights above you.
You hear a muffled voice on the other side of the glass. “Hey Wesker!” Youju must have switched off the window speaker.
You let out a sharp breath through your nose. You turn to the window. Jake stands there, forearm resting on the glass above his head and observing you like a slide under a microscope. “Like I told you before, just Doc is fine.” You respond, annoyed.
You look up at the camera and see its beady red light still trained on you. You look between the camera and Jake. No use being stealthy. You walk over to the window with a determined look on your face, already in problem solving mode.
“We both know that test is going to come back negative.”
“Uh huh… and?” Jake responds, unimpressed.
“Personnel are going to come back eventually for another sample. Make it count and make it hurt although based on your current state-” You gesture to Jakes muddy and burnt clothes. “-your technique needs some work.”
Jake scowls. “My ‘technique’ is just fine.”
“Then prove me wrong.”
It doesn’t take too long for your assumption to come true. After a long stretch of time that you try to fill by pacing your room, you hear several sets of footsteps outside the room. A moment later, you see two men in lab coats accompanied by one guard armed with an electric baton and one armed with a pistol enter Jake’s room on the other side of the glass. 
Jake deals with them in a similar quick and efficient fashion to what you saw before when you first met him, except his moves are much more violent and incensed. Nothing like the cool and confident rescuer you first thought him to be.
The men in lab coats gesture for Jake to roll up his sleeve. Jake complies and one of the men puts a band on his upper arm to cut off blood flow. When the other man goes to do the blood draw, Jake grabs the syringe and plunges it into the man’s eye, causing to scream in pain and stumble back. The other scientist is frozen in fear as the two guards spring into action. The guard with the baton reaches Jake first, but he’s prepared to duck under the guard’s wide swing and he easily kicks the guard’s feet out from under him in one graceful move. As soon as the guard’s body hits the floor, Jake wastes no time grabbing the back of his head and chin and forcing his neck to an unnatural angle, immediately making the guard go limp.
The other guard is yelling something in that unfamiliar language while pointing his gun at Jake, but Jake doesn’t even acknowledge it as he charges at him with full speed. The guard is only able to shoot once, barely missing his shot, before Jake unleashes a flurry of blows, his skill in hand-to-hand combat evident in the way he dodges all the guard’s attempts at defense with ease.
While Jake is busy with the other guard, the remaining scientist finally comes to his senses and begins to run out of the room. But by the time he makes it to the door of Jake’s chamber, Jake has already disarmed and shot the other guard in the head. By the time the scientist opens the door, Jake has already lined his shot up perfectly and shoots the scientist dead in his tracks, blood leaking from the bullet wound on the back of his head.
The sight in the other room is grisly, but nothing you’re not already used to from the lifestyle you’ve lived. Once the last scientist is taken care of, you knock on the window to get Jake’s attention. He turns to you, breathing heavily and ripping off the rubber armband from earlier.
“Grab all their keycards! Can’t hurt to have them just in case.”
Jake nods and grabs the keycards from all the bodies, then exits the room. Shortly after, there’s a ping from your door and it opens to reveal Jake on the other side of it.
“Let me see?” You request, briskly walking outside the room and holding out your hand for the keycards. Jake plops them in your hand, looking at you closely. You ignore it and flip through the keycards, trying to discern security level but failing because the only difference between the two are the colors; red for the scientists and black for the guards. You halve them and give one of each back to Jake, which he pockets. He’s still holding the pistol he got from the guard at his side.
“Guess we’ll find out which have higher clearance when the time comes.”
Jake is still looking at you with that analyzing expression. “So you-” Jake is interrupted by an ear piercing alarm and the room is bathed in a foreboding red light.
“Time to move!” Jake grabs your upper arm before you can protest and runs out a door and down the hallway, half dragging you behind him while you struggle to keep up with his pace. You don’t know where you’re running to and Jake doesn’t appear to know either. You both keep running until you reach a four-way hallway where the alarm isn’t as loud and the lights are normal. Jake pauses, taking a moment before deciding where to run. You take the opportunity to yank your arm back, rubbing away the sting of Jake’s harsh grip.
“Wait, why aren’t there any guards? Or people?” You say, not quite sure where to go. Maybe it’s residual memories from working at Umbrella, but seeing the nearly identical hallways so empty is setting off alarm bells in your head.
“That’s what you’re worried about right now?” Jake replies, irritated, taking a few steps to look down one of the hallways trying to decide where to go while he holds his pistol defensively, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.
“There’s no people! You don’t find that weird?”
“We’ve got bigger problems right now!” Jake snaps, looking at you with a cold stare. Not a second later, the ear-piercing alarm cries overhead and the lights flick to red.
“We’re going left.” Jake says, running down the left hallway with you tailing right behind him. As you’re running, you notice the grating on the floor.
You realize it’s like the flooring in the specimen room, and suddenly more details about this place make sense.
There’re no people around because they use the knockout gas as a security measure.
The guards wear gas masks so they don’t lose consciousness during breaches.
The alarms and lights warn employees to get to a safe place or avoid the area.
Unfortunately, you put all of this together in the middle of the hallway when the security doors at both ends light up red, rise up from the floor, and close with loud metallic clicks. You hear loud hissing from below you, and you realize with dreaded clarity that the hallway is starting to fill up with gas.
You quickly scan the hallway and see a door with a red marking on it like the one on the scientist keycard.
“Red door on your right! Move it!” You command, already running to the door, keycard in hand.
You don’t need to tell Jake twice. Jake wastes no time dashing into the suggested room once you scan the card. You follow Jake into the room right on his heels. The second you’re through the threshold of the door, you scan the keycard to close the door and engage the emergency lock, emergency protocols drilled into your head from your time at Umbrella taking over. The door beeps and hisses shut just in time to cut off the gas from invading the room you and Jake just entered. The room appears to be some kind of office with several desks around the room. The alarm on the other side of the door is barely heard in this room. You’re safe. For now.
You take a shaky and labored breath while leaning against the door, trying to get your bearings.
Too close.
Your break is quickly interrupted by an accusatory comment from Jake. “You knew him well, huh?”
You stay silent and finally look at Jake. His expression is a cocktail of anger and frustration, even as he’s trying to catch his breath. You glance at Jake’s hand by his side; he’s gripping his pistol tightly and his face is grim and cold. It doesn’t help that you’re looking at Jake with an exasperated and annoyed look.
“You of all people should know why I don’t freely give out my last name.”
You give Jake a ‘what the fuck are you doing’ look and Jake tightens his grip on his pistol as he lifts it a few inches like he’s thinking about aiming it. A few seconds pass and Jake takes a deep breath as he sheathes the pistol.
“Fair enough. But I have questions.”
You let out a crazed laugh and start to feverishly pace the room, still in disbelief at the sudden appearance of your husband’s bastard child. “I’m sure you do! I’ve sure as hell got some!” Your tone comes off as angry, but in reality you’re frustrated.
“I’m not too happy he’s my dad either lady!”
“That’s not- ugh. I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s just-” You take a breath and try to relax your shoulders, so you don’t snap at Jake again. “The B.S.A.A. and I have a deal. I tell them everything I know, and I help their scientists deal with bioterrorism. In exchange, I’m supposed to get protection and they keep me in the loop. Simple right? But then-” You stop pacing and gesture to Jake. “-I get kidnapped, again, and I find out my dead husband has a whole ass… grown… child! In their organization! That’s a pretty major development if you ask me!”
You stop pacing the room and plop down in a chair and put your head in your hands, then run your hands through your hair. What else aren’t the B.S.A.A telling you? What isn’t Chris telling you? Did he know about this? He has to. You haven’t done anything to your knowledge to warrant them keeping something this big from you. Did they think you’d not take the news well? Take it out on Jake? Leak the information out of misplaced anger for Albert being with another woman?
“I don’t care what kind of bullshit deal you’ve got with the Bioterrorism Boy Scouts. I’ve got questions and I think considering everything, I deserve some fucking answers.” Jake’s steely look from the chamber is trained directly on you.
“You-” You stop. You’re about to tell him now isn’t the time and that you both need to prioritize finding a radio to call for help and come up with an exit plan, but you don’t. You can’t deny that you want to know more about Jake. He’s rightfully demanding answers about a father he presumably never knew. You know the B.S.A.A hasn’t been forthcoming about new information to you, so they probably haven’t disclosed much to Jake. You also know they won’t be too pleased about you spilling top secret intel about Albert to his son.
“You’re right. He’s your dad, you deserve to know. You didn’t hear this from me, okay? I don’t need more reasons for B.S.A.A.’s finest to dislike me.”
Jake silently looks at you, then nods his head. “Deal.”
You nod back. “Alright. You first.”
Jake leans against the wall, looking at you with a serious expression. “What kind of man was Albert Wesker?”
You look at him, confused. “I’m assuming you already know what kind of man he was.”
“I do. I’ve heard a hell of a lot about my old man, but not from the woman who knew him best. What kind of man was he?”
“An intelligent psychopath with a god complex.” You pause. “Well... the god complex came later. But still.”
“Intelligent? That’s not what I heard.”
“What did you hear then?”
“That he was crazy and he tried to destroy the world.” Jakes voice drips with disdain.
“Crazy and intelligent aren’t mutually exclusive traits. Are you positive that these people didn’t know who you were before they tested your blood?”
Even with everything that had just happened, you still couldn’t wrap your head around why you were brought here. To your knowledge, Neo Umbrella didn’t know Jake existed before an hour ago, let alone know that he was Albert’s son. How they knew he was Albert’s son is still unclear to you since his genome is highly classified information. The man on the speaker said your purpose here was personal but didn’t give any indication that it was related to revenge. What did he mean by that? How does this all connect?
“Hundred percent. If he was like that, why’d you marry him then?” Jake’s tone is accusatory, and a scowl that eerily reminds you of Albert adorns his face.
You’re annoyed with the one-word answer and his tone, but you keep your feelings to yourself. You know Jake has complicated feelings when it comes to his father, and he’s dead. You’re the next best thing when it comes to closure. After a moment you calmly and neutrally respond to Jakes question.
“When I first met him, I thought he was a very different man. Sure, he was stoic, cold and all business at the Umbrella Labs, but with me he was romantic, charismatic, and thoughtful." You feel like Jake’s gaze is piercing into your soul, so you look away and stare at the ground instead. “Three years I thought that. Then the mansion incident happened, and everything changed for the worse.”
“Romantic? Hmph. Yeah sure…”
You frown and let out a resigned sigh, shoulders slumping in the process, and you respond in a tired tone. “Has there ever been anyone in your life that you trusted with your whole being and they ended up being someone you didn’t even recognize?”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jake cross his arms and scowl become more prominent. Another sensitive subject. You move on.
“He was unfathomably good at making you believe he was someone else. He did it with me. He did it with his S.T.A.R.S. squad at R.P.D. He even did it to Umbrella. In the end, he was just a power-starved monster.”
“R.P.D? He was a cop too?”
You turn your head back towards Jake in surprise. You would have thought that Albert’s previous jobs were easy pieces of information to get ahold of, but then again, Jake may have not cared enough to know. Jake’s expression is still unreadable apart from his voice dripping with contempt as he asked that question. You keep your answer clinical and to the point. “Yeah. He was a scientific prodigy and worked at Umbrella as a researcher really young. Then one of his projects stalled and he became an Umbrella spy and worked in the U.S. Army and then became the captain of the Rescue Service at the police station. After that: bioterrorist.”
You stop and wait for any follow up questions. When Jake only continues to stare you down, you ask your next question.
“Who knows that he’s your father?”
“Couple of guys in the B.S.A.A. and a handful of government agents. Everyone else who knew is dead. What happened after the Mansion Incident? Between you two? There has to be more to that story.” Jakes expression grows darker and more serious.
The thought crosses your mind that you should lie about how you felt, but you have a feeling that you needed to be open with Jake. He deserves the truth, no matter how unpleasant the answer will be.
“I was devastated. When what was left of his team returned from that mansion, I simply didn't want to believe it. I didn't even know he worked for the R.P.D. before that day, and they’re telling me he led his team to die at a mansion in the mountains with a secret Umbrella lab I didn’t know existed? The whole thing sounded crazy." You stop and choose your next words delicately before continuing.
"You have to understand that I loved him at the time. I was in denial. I was mourning. I didn't know he survived the mansion until the Racoon City incident. He could have let me die in Racoon when everything when to shit but he didn't. Instead, he sent a mercenary after me to rescue me and kept me with him until he was killed."
Jake gives you a long look when you finish, his eyes fixed and unblinking. You can tell he’s digesting your every word, as his jaw tenses and his knuckles whiten from the force of his fists clenching with his arms are still crossed.
“… so he saved you?”
His voice is icy, and there’s a dangerous edge to his tone that you’ve never heard before. Each word sounds like it’s taking great effort to force out. “Why?”
A pang of fear goes through you at his change of tone. You hit something sensitive, and you don’t even know what it is, which only makes you more nervous. “I don’t have a good answer for that.” Your voice comes out softer than you intend, but you do a good job of masking how intimidated you are by Jake in the moment. Logically, you know he’s probably not going to fly off the handle and do anything to you, but his eyes and expressions are so similar to Albert’s that it’s instinctively putting you on edge.
Unless Albert told you directly, knowing the inner workings of his mind was a challenging task even for you. You’d asked yourself that question and reflected on a possible answer countless times over the years, and each time you came to a slightly different conclusion. On the occasional day where you really missed your marriage before the Mansion Incident, you thought he may have been fond of you in some way. On days like this, your theories were a bit more realistic. You were a means to an end.
Either way, Jake’s eyes are boring into your soul as he’s waiting for you to answer his question.
“At the time, I thought it was because he loved me. But now-” You pause for a moment, desperately trying to gather your thoughts to present them in a way that won’t upset Jake further. “-I have two theories. Either he saw me as an asset with my virology knowledge and kept me close just in case, or he just saw me as something that was his. He almost always used possessives when he addressed me. My darling, my dear, my love. That kind of thing.”
Jake remains silent and his body language still has that edge to it like a cord dangerously close to snapping. You opt to ask a more neutral question.
“How long have you known about Wesker?”
“A year. So he saw you as an asset? You helped him with his plans?”
“No! Fuck no. He definitely wanted me to, but I refused every single time. I still looked at all the lab results and things the he left laying out to stay up to date on what he was planning, but I never gave him feedback.”
“If you refused, why the hell did he keep you around?” Another accusatory, but valid question. Albert wasn’t exactly the forgiving type if he didn’t get what he wanted.
“I think he thought he could wear me down or change my mind eventually. I work fast. I’m good at seeing patterns and remembering small details. My guess is that he didn’t want to get rid of me if there was the possibility of me being useful.” You catch yourself becoming slightly defensive, so you make a conscious effort to reel your emotions in before you ask Jake your question. “Where’d you grow up?”
“Edonia. If you were so against helping him, then why did you stay, huh?”
You’re starting to feel anger boil up in you.
“I was just happy to have my husband back at first! I tried leaving when I realized what he wanted to do. I really did. But by the time I took off the rose colored glasses, I’d seen too much and I was either locked up or he had someone babysitting me so I couldn’t run off. And Edonia? Really? That’s a long way from the U.S. Is that where your mom’s from?”
“Why do you care, huh?” Jake snaps at you, fire in his eyes and nostrils flaring.
You’re slightly taken aback with Jake’s combative response. “Because if anyone finds out she’s associated with Wesker in any way, she’s going to be in danger and needs protection.”
“Don’t need it. She’s dead.” Jake’s face holds no traces of relaxed cockiness like earlier. His expression has morphed into an explosive combination of wrath and pain. “And you know why? Because daddy dearest wasn’t there to pay for her medical bills. He walked out and didn’t fucking look back, yet she still acted like he was this exceptional man who could do no wrong.”
The atmosphere of the room is thick with tension. Even through Jake is a few feet away still leaning on the desk, you feel small and defenseless sitting in your office chair. You feel like the energy in the room could snap at any moment, so you keep your tone sympathetic, but firm.
“I’m sorry about your mom. But you need to believe me when I tell you that you are lucky he was never in your lives-“
“Lucky? That psychopath sent someone to a city that was tearing itself apart to save you but couldn’t send a damn check to save my mom?”
You’ve been patient throughout this whole exchange, and you were resigned to be Jake’s verbal punching bag. But suggesting Albert would have helped Jake’s mother without consequences? That’s the final straw that inevitably makes you lose your composure.
“Did you grow up feeling loved?” The question is sudden. Blurted without thinking of what could come after.
Jake’s angered expression morphs into confusion. “What?”
You know you’re playing with fire with this line of questioning, but you don’t see any other option that will be as effective. “Did your mother… tell you she loved you, make sure you had your coat before leaving the house? Hug you goodbye? Tell you bedtime stories?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Did she?” You don’t back down. You need to make him understand.
“Yeah! She did!”
You nodded. “Good! You wouldn’t have gotten that with Albert. Far from it!”
“Oh yeah? And why do you think that Doc?”
“Is that your question?”
“Answer it.” Jake spits, anger boiling to the surface.
“Do you know anything about Project W?”
You take the silence as a no and continue.
“Albert was a product of one of Oswald Spencer’s projects, founder of Umbrella, headed by Dr. William Wesker. It was a eugenics-based plan to create a race of more intelligent, more fit more whatever superhumans. Your father was essentially raised in a lab.”
You pause to make sure Jake is following your words and keep going.
“There were hundreds of kids in this program. When they were adults, Spencer weeded out a group of thirteen including your father. All of them were given the progenitor virus whether willingly or unknowingly, and only Albert and another woman I’ve never met survived. Albert was the only one who gained superhuman abilities.”
Jake is silent for a moment, then responds, “When you say willingly or unknowingly-”
“Some of these kids didn’t know they were in the program.”
Silence.
“That is where your father came from. You want to know what kind of man he was? He was opportunistic and manipulative. I have no doubt that he would have used you as a guinea pig just like he was. He would have framed it in a way that made it look like he was doing what was best for you too. If he had stayed in your life, you would have been living in a lab waiting for him to shove a needle in your vein as a bonding activity.”
More silence. Jake’s expression is unreadable, but he doesn’t appear angry like before. His eyebrows are scrunched together and he looks at the floor, deep in thought. 
“Jake?” You say, gently. He doesn’t respond.
“Jake. Please look at me.” You try again a little louder, and he turns his head to look at you, Albert’s - Jake’s - pale blue eyes look more understanding.
“Do you understand everything I just told you?”
“Yeah. I just-” Jake pauses. “I don’t know what I was expecting to hear, but it wasn’t that.”
You nod and give him a sympathetic look. “I know it doesn’t make it better, but I don’t think he knew you existed. He would have seen you as an asset and tried to find you otherwise.”
Jake doesn’t say anything, but he nods his head to let you know he heard you.
“Loving him came at a price. Be thankful for the anonymity you have.”
“What was your price?”
Everything.
“My future.” Jake looks at you with an eyebrow raised, so you continue. “Because of the relationship I had with him, it’s impossible to live a normal life. I’ve tried, but there will always be people trying to find me to recruit me or kill me because of that.” You say this off-handedly. You’ve become used to this kind of life to the point where happenings like this feel routine.
You and Jake sit in silence. Jake’s presence doesn’t emit that aura of anger anymore.
“That’s not fair to you.”
You give Jake a wry smile.
“It’s not fair that he’s your father. We can’t change the past. But we can try to make the future a bit less shitty.” You quip with a wry smile.
Jake chuckles a little at that comment, and his smirk finally returns.
“You’re not-” Jake stops, and you wait for him to finish, “-how I expected you to be.”
“…thanks?” You reply, not sure if that’s a good thing or not.
Jake snorts at your comment. “And uh… sorry I got heated for a minute there.”
You give Jake a dismissive wave. “Hey, it’s not the first time I’ve gotten my ass chewed out because of Wesker, and it’s not going to be the last. At least yours was warranted. You love your mom. I can’t fault you for that.”
“Appreciate it.” Jake replies, his smirk disappearing after a moment.
“I’ve got one more… personal question.” Jake looks at you, a dark intensity to his gaze.
You nod. ”Go for it. You deserve to know.”
“Do you have any children?” After a long, silent pause, Jake’s eyes lose their intensity and he gives you a small, sympathetic look.
You give Jake a sad smile. “No. No we… everything I said before about bonding activities? That’s not anecdotal. Just conjecture. Just-“ You gesture to Jake. “You.”
That I know of.
You clear your throat. “How old are you, by the way? I’m just curious-”
“You don’t need to finish that, I get it. Twenty.”
“You look older.”
“Mercenary work and a civil war will do that to ya.”
“Sorry I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s okay.”
You shift in your seat from the awkward turn of events and say your thoughts out loud. “Let’s see…” You do the math in your head. “That would’ve been ’92. I met him in ’95. We got married in ’97...”
“And everything with Umbrella went to shit in ’98.” Jake finishes.
You feel the side of your mouth curl into a half smile. “You’ve done your homework.”
The alarm outside the room suddenly stops, and you hear a hissing noise from the hallway outside. You look to the door, then back at Jake. “I’ll tell you more later. We gotta get moving.”
You stand up from your chair and check the panel on the door. Still red. It’s going to take a minute or two for the gas to filter out of the hallway. You look over your shoulder at Jake.
“Did you end up finding that sample by the way? Or a way to contact the Tokyo base?”
Jake frowns and checks his pistol. “No, but I have a better idea of where those things could be.”
 You sigh and shake your head. “Better than nothing, I guess. Any theories?”
Jake shrugs. “Half this place used to be a military base and the other half an Umbrella lab that’s had some renovations. The old lab holds the old samples-”
“So the newer part of the lab should have the new samples and the military part should have a radio?”
Jake smirks and points at you. “If everything goes right, we’ll be outta here by sunset.”
The office door panel beeps and lights up green. You smile and slide the red card and the door swooshes open. You look back to Jake. “I like the sound of that. Let’s go.”
As you both walk back out into the hallway, you notice it’s still eerily empty. However, the security doors are still engaged at both ends of the hallway. You and Jake walk over to the door you were heading through before the lockdown. You scan the red keycard and it declines. You huff and scan the black keycard, and you hear the lock disengage and the security doors split open and return their respectful halves to the floor and ceiling. You look at the black keycard with a stern look as Jake walks though.
“Only guards can open security doors? That sounds like a shitshow waiting to happen.”
“You an expert on security now too? C’mon we’ve got a schedule to-”
Jake is cut off by a loud buzzer, followed by the security doors slamming shut so you and Jake are on opposite sides. Jake hurries up to the doors and looks at you through one of the small windows in the middle.
“What the hell? Try the card again maybe it’s a timer thing.”
You scan the black card again, but it returns an error message. You shake your head in annoyance, but then it turns into concern when you hear shouting and footsteps from the direction of the observation rooms you were held in.
“It’s giving me an error message. Try yours on that side!” You shout at Jake through the door.
You see Jake’s face as he scans the panel on his side but based on how Jake grits his teeth in frustration he’s probably not having any better luck than you. You hear shouting and footsteps growing louder. Jake notices and tries to pry open the security doors with his hands. You scan the red card again, but it also returns an error message.
“Shit! Jake, they know which cards we took and deactivated them. They’re no good!”
You throw down the cards and take a few steps back to get a better look at the hallway to find an alternate route or some structural weakness in the door arch, but you notice nothing. The sounds of guards shouting and running are getting even closer. Your only chance of getting out of here is Jake. He can’t be here when you’re ultimately discovered.
You hurry back up to one of the windows on the security door to shout at Jake. “You need to go, now!”
Jake ignores you and keeps looking for purchase on the door, but it’s too smooth to get a decent grip to pull it open.
“Jake!” You scold.
Jake pauses to look at you, scowling.
“They obviously want me alive I’ll be fine. You find that sample and radio for help. I’ll stall for as long as I can.”
Jake’s scowl on his face deepens as he tries to open the mechanical door again, but his efforts are fruitless. He finally slams a hand on the door and lets out an annoyed huff and looks back at you through the window.
“You’re sure you’ll be fine on your own?”
More yelling and bangs echo down the hall.
“More than likely, yes. Just be quick about it. I’d rather not be a lab rat if I can help it.”
Jake takes one more analyzing look at the door and gives you a curt nod, clearly not happy with the new set of circumstances.
“Don’t say anything that’ll piss em’ off more.”
“No promises, now go!”
You turn around at the sound of the opposite security door opening, and you hear Jake’s footsteps grow further and further before they disappear and are replaced with the stomping of a battalion of gas masked soldiers. A group of eight quickly block off your only exit and train their semi-automatic TMP’s on you. Seeing as you’re heavily outnumbered, you put your hands up in surrender.
As you do, a wiry man a little taller than you walks leisurely through the intimidating crowd of masked faces. He wears a suit under a pristine white lab coat and looks at you with cold eyes through a pair of square glasses.
“Where is Muller, Doctor?”
You recognize the lilting voice immediately. This is Youju. Your immediate impression is that he’s much too young to be the director of this facility. But then again, Umbrella is chock full of young prodigies. Time to buy Jake some time.
“I could care less about where he went. As I told you before, he’s not my son.”
“I see.” Youju walks a few steps past the line of guards towards you and looks at the mechanical door behind you, skeptical.
“Why stop here Dr. Wesker? Why this door?”
“Because your security system needs some work. It closed and it can’t be opened.” You reply, curtly.
“Then why didn’t you run?”
“I’ve been in enough scrapes to know when I’ve been backed into a corner.” It’s not a lie. Even though your main goal is to distract these people, you know when you’re beat. Especially when you have an overwhelming handful of guns trained on you.
Youju frowns. “You still haven’t answered my question. Where. Is. Muller?”
“I. Don’t. Know. We went our separate ways when it became convenient.” You reply condescendingly, already tired of answering Youju’s questions.
Youju narrows his eyes at you, calculating his response. “Very well then. Since you’re so keen on seeing what amenities this facility has to offer, allow me to give you a guided tour.”
“I’d rather go back to my room. I’ve had enough cardio for today.”
Youju waves his hand and the guards put their guns down, save for one who quickly positions himself behind you with his gun still aimed at your back. Youju gives you a chilling smile. “I must insist, Doctor.”
As Youju walks back through the crowd of guards, he announces one more command to the crowd of guards.
“Find the other one. Alive. Maim him if you must, but ensure he is brought to me in one piece.”
Not ten minutes later, Youju and his guard lead you deeper into the facility, seemingly with one destination in mind for your guided tour. Youju leads the way in front of you, while the soldier trails behind never once lowering his weapon. He seems to be leading you into the newly renovated parts of the lab. There are no windows into the many rooms you pass so you have no inkling of what could be going on behind closed doors, but Youju ignores all of them in favor of the main lab at the center of the facility.
He scans a white key card and a large lock disengages from the mechanism in the middle of the door, spinning until it’s completely free before the doors finally open to reveal another set of sliding doors. Youju scans the card again and enters with you and the soldier right behind him.
It's a room with several scientists checking over miscellaneous machines and monitors, as well as fridges with multiple different colored chemical substances. All of them periodically glance over their respective stations and into the observation chamber below through the window that takes up the entire expanse of the wall opposite the door. A handful of soldiers line the wall in the back of the room. Youju saunters in and stands by a monitor that flickers to show a different part of the facility every fifteen seconds or so. A microphone stands idly next to it. Youju trains his dark eyes on you, a barely noticeable sly smile on his face.
“Welcome to the inner sanctum, Doctor. I would like your thoughts on my latest and greatest project.”
You cross your arms defiantly and shift your weight with a bored expression on your face. “As I said before, I have no interest in any job you have to offer me.”
“I didn’t offer you employment. I only ask that you take a cursory look. I assure you, he will be of great interest to you.” Youju speaks in that same, know-it-all tone from when you were stuck in your quarters. Like he wants you to figure out his point.
Better yet, who’s ‘he?’
You roll your eyes and humor him.
You look over the consoles and into the chamber below. There are illuminated chambers filled with substances you don’t recognize and over a dozen machines tracking something you can’t discern from this distance. The cylindrical tank in the middle of the room is the focal point of the observation chamber. It glows with a foreboding orange light, illuminating the space in between itself and you. At first, you can’t tell what the tank holds with the light emanating from it shining in your eyes. When your eyes adjust to the light, one by one you notice features of the creature inside; you see the outline of a man. Then notice one of its arms is much longer and darker than the other. The scar tissue across its chest. Then, most devastatingly, disheveled, slicked back blonde hair.
Your heart drops and your annoyed expression shifts into something much more terrified.
“Where… that’s not…”
But it was. Behind the glass in the chamber below was the body of a mutated Albert Wesker floating in a liquid filled chamber. His chest and legs are overtaken by burnt scar tissue, but otherwise look about the same as the last time you saw him; although you don’t like to think about that series of events.
The bomber. The volcano. The helicopter that he almost pulled down into the lava with him. Any one of those scenarios could have easily ended with your death, the world ending or Uroboros in your arm. Not that the three were that different regarding the death part.
 The last time you saw Wesker, he had mutated into the monster he had become on the inside. His snake eyes glowed red, black Uroboros burst from beneath his skin around his eyes, worms of Uroboros completely overtook his chest and arms, which he could stretch to great lengths, and he was altogether consumed by rage. Rage against Chris for besting him once again, rage against himself for underestimating him, and you were certain rage against you for betraying him.
You stare blankly into the chamber as the reality of the situation sets in: Youju went to great lengths to find Albert. You didn’t know how he could have found him after so long, but you knew this man had to mine through volcanic rock at best and perform an underwater excavation of a volcano at worst to exhume him. Whatever he has planned, it can only spell doom for whatever unfortunate soul falls in Albert’s wake. Your body can’t bring itself to move, so you stand frozen by the console of the observation room overlooking the chamber Albert is in.
“The union of Wesker and Uroboros is truly a remarkable miracle of nature,” Youju says smugly, relishing in your shock.
All you can do in the moment is gape at your husband in horror.
“There’s nothing natural about this.” Your voice comes out small. Rattled. Nothing like how you planned when you stepped into this room.
“Natural? That’s a matter of perspective, Doctor. We are seeing evolution in real time.” Youju is enjoying your torment, but there is a pit forming in your stomach that is screaming for you to talk sense into him. You know in your bones that this is a bad idea, but you can’t articulate it into words that will break through to the Director. You knew men like him. He won’t listen until it’s too late, but you try anyway.
“Whatever you’re planning is not worth the consequences you’re going to reap from playing God.” You still stare at Wesker’s peaceful, mutated face.
“I assure you it will be. Your husband is an incredible case study. He was medically dead when we found him, but you know as well as I do that the dead don’t tend to stay that way for long in our profession. Uroboros preserved his brain and nervous system better than any modern medical instrument you or I could have hoped to have at our disposal.” Youju explains with pride.
“Weapon, DNA, or emotional blackmail?” You reply cooly, still staring at Wesker in the chamber below.
“Whichever has the highest bidder. Although I think the value of a subject like him transcends material wealth, so I’ll hold off on an auction for now. I have more pressing plans first.”
You break your gaze from Wesker’s body in the chamber and look at Youju with a cautious expression, curious as to what he means.
“We know his brain is showing activity, but he hasn’t woken up you see. All the regular avenues for breaking comatose states have been exhausted.”
Youju turns to the chamber and puts his hand on the window thoughtfully as he speaks.
“Sure, we could harvest his DNA and easily make our investment in excavating him a drop in the bucket. As you’ve said, his DNA is one in a trillion. But it’s not just his DNA that makes him unique, it’s his mind as well. He was- is- the greatest mind manufactured by man. By Oswald Spencer himself. What I would give to speak with him! To know his thoughts on my research. To continue where Spencer was forced to stop.”
The Director looks away from Wesker and back to you, with a giddy look you know all too well. It’s a dissecting look of a scientist attempting to peel away the mystery of an unsolved problem.
“But then one of my researchers had an interesting hypothesis. This is not a regular subject so normal avenues are more than likely going to prove fruitless. Perhaps Wesker needs a familiar face as an extra incentive to chat with us. Someone who knew him much more personally than anyone else. Someone like you. We’ve already tried recordings of your voice, and they’ve yielded positive results, but not the one’s we’re looking for.”
“The saying ‘you should never meet your heroes,’ definitely applies in this case. You need to quit while you’re ahead. You’re inviting nothing but trouble by indulging this fantasy.” You warn, unable to wipe the look of barely contained terror on your face.
Youju tilts his head and gives you a mocking pout.
“Awww… what’s wrong Dr. Wesker? I thought this would be a happy reunion for you. After all, you survived him. He respected your intellect. It’s not every day that a genius offers his lover a place beside him in a new world. And don’t deny it. I’ve seen the footage of him offering you Uroboros on multiple occasions. I’m not a betting man, but I’d say those weren’t the only times he tried to convince you.”  
“Director, you need to stop-”
“Not until I get what I want.” Youju’s gaze turns cold and he flips a switch on the console in front of you both. A red light above it switches to green. The guard behind you raises his gun to your head. Youju turns his face towards the microphone but keeps his eyes on you.
“Albert Wesker, you have a visitor. A personal visitor. Go ahead and say hello my dear.”
You avoid looking into the chamber and keep your mouth shut while staring down Youju. You would rather die than awaken that monster.
“Your wife is here to see you Dr. Wesker. Mrs. Doctor Wesker, if you know what’s good for you, please speak into the microphone.” The tone the Director uses reminds you of a car salesman; sleazy and said with a gritted smile. Attempting to get you to bend to his will no matter the cost if it gets you to sign the metaphorical dotted line.
When you keep your mouth shut, Youju motions to the guard behind you and you feel the cold steel of the muzzle of the gun on the back of your head. Your breath becomes unsteady, but you stay silent. He needs you. He wouldn’t kill you so quickly when he needs you. You’re sure of it.
“You know I’m not a patient man dear. Speak, or I will make you.” Youju spits out the warning, his patience already wearing thin.
You clench your jaw and stay silent. You fully intend to stay quiet, even though the urge to call Youju a dumb motherfucker is strong. You see a flicker on one of the cameras on Youju’s monitor. A figure. You weren’t going to pay it any mind, but even out of the corner of your eye you recognize the large scar on the side of Jake’s face.
Youju lets out an annoyed huff at your continued silence, currently unaware of Jake’s presence. “I wanted to avoid making this messy, but it seems you’ve left me with no other option.”
Youju turns around and starts to bend down towards a drawer below the monitor. You panic. Jake is your only hope in getting the B.S.A.A. here. You can’t let his stealth go to waste.
“Albert!” You spit out the name without thinking. You already feel sick to your stomach at your choice of action, but it has its intended effect immediately. Youju snaps his attention away from the monitor’s direction and back to you, then back to the chamber, then to a monitor off to the side that you now realize is displaying brainwave activity. His brainwave activity. You hadn’t noticed it before because the brainwaves were barely perceptible, only small mole hills on a nearly straight line. Now, like a rising tide, the red wave on the monitor grows in intensity along with your heartbeat.
Youju stares at the monitor with you in awe, then turns his attention to the chamber while speaking to you. “Go on. Tell him to wake up.”
“Albert dear?” You pause to take a shallow breath of air. The red wave rises higher on the monitor. “I need you to wake up.”
The more the red wave rises, the more animated the other scientists in the room become. Youju most of all. Everyone buzzes with excitement over their machines and data displaying on the screens, but all you can do is stare at Wesker in the chamber with a lump in your throat.
You have an idea on how to get the upper hand. It’s stupid, suicidal, and against everything your brain is telling you not to do, but if it works it’s an almost guaranteed way for these people to lock you in your room again until the B.S.A.A. can get here with proper reinforcements.
“Albert help me they have a gun to my head!”
Almost immediately, beeping sounds emanate from each and every machine in the room. One by one, every piece of machinery has warning lights on their displays and nervous chattering erupts from the scientists. The red wave on the brainwave monitor devolves into jittery valleys and peaks. You see Wesker in his water chamber twitching, and his peaceful face morph into an angered scowl that you know all too well.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Youju scolds as he switches off the microphone. He grabs your shoulder in a tight grip and walks you back closer to the door away from the window seemingly the only one not concerned with the sudden uptick in activity on the monitors and more peeved at your little stunt.
“That’s enough from you for now Doctor.” He turns his attention to the guard behind you. Take her back to-”
Youju’s command is interrupted by the sound of glass cracking and metal screeching in the chamber below. Youju’s eyes grow wide and he immediately rushes back over to the window. He turns his head to say something, but before he’s able to, a pipe breaks through the glass of the observation chamber and into Youju’s skull with so much force that blood splatters on you from across the room and you stumble to the floor in your shock.
All hell breaks loose. Some scientists scream, others duck and cover, a handful try and fail to open the door to the hallway, the soldier leaves your side and open fires on Wesker in the chamber along with the other ones in the room.
You can’t seem to escape from the bloodshed. No matter where you turn, more blood splashes across your clothes but you manage to keep your escape in mind: grab Youju’s white keycard to get out of the room. You do your best to block out the grisly sight of Youju’s head as you army crawl across the floor. The white keycard, now stained crimson in some places, hangs precariously from his belt. A black and blonde blur dives into the room from the chamber and the screams grow louder and more frightened. You grab the keycard and you crawl behind a large cabinet that got overturned in the chaos in the corner of the room and make yourself as small as possible by hugging your knees to your chest. You clutch the keycard for dear life.
Meanwhile, in the background, you hear Wesker spewing insults as he tears through the room.
“Ignorant cretins! Worthless, self-righteous chaff! Inferior good for nothing fools!”
Something in Wesker’s voice puts you on edge, and it has nothing to do with the fact he’s seething with rage or leaving a trail of blood and viscera and broken machinery in his wake. You can’t quite describe it, other than that it sounds wrong. The voice is Wesker’s, but the tone and intonation are just… off. Your Wesker spoke in a much sharper and eloquent manner. This voice is direct and garbled in some places.
In the moment, you don’t know which voice you’d prefer. You don’t have time to think on it when you feel a presence behind you. It’s only now that you realize the screams and cries of pain have gone silent. Your blood runs cold when you hear a familiar, yet unfamiliar voice in your ear that makes the hairs on your neck stand up.
“My dear? Oh, how I’ve missed you my sweet…”    
You freeze. His tone is uncannily gentle. He’s so close, you can feel Wesker’s breath on your ear and neck. Everything in your body is screaming at you to run, but it’s like Wesker’s words have you under a paralytic spell.            
“How dare they touch what’s not theirs…”
A wet, slimy and black tendril slowly makes its way into the corner of your vision and gingerly tucks a flyaway hair behind your ear. You can’t bring yourself to move.
You sense Wesker move his head closer to yours until you can feel the damp heat of him over your shoulder. Glass breaks on the other side of the room and he whips his head towards the sound. There’s one last scientist left. She’s trying to climb into the observation chamber, but she stepped on a piece of glass and now she’s gaping at Wesker in fear.
Wesker attacks her with the bloodlust of a wild animal, plunging his Uroboros arm into her chest and not stopping his assault until it reveals itself again when it pokes out through her mouth. She doesn’t even have a chance to scream. Only gurgle sounds of pain.
The grisly sight finally breaks the spell, and you bolt to the sliding doors and run the second the door registers Youju’s keycard.
You don’t stop when you hear Albert calling your name behind you.
You don’t stop when you see other guards and scientists coming out into the hallway to observe what caused such deafening, monstrous noises.  
You don’t stop when you hear more screaming and gunfire erupting behind you.
You have no destination in mind when the hallways become unrecognizable.
The only thing consuming your thoughts is the fact that your psychopathic husband is alive, and that you’ve doomed the world because you destroyed the only Uroboros sample in existence to stop him in a misguided attempt to save it.
a/n 2: How's that for angst? More juiciness in the next part :)
If you've made it this far THANK YOU and sorry for this part being long I thought it would ruin the flow to split it up into two parts.
Tag List: @killerwendigo
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