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disasterfandoms · 3 years

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To Deploy, You Go || A Brock Reynolds x Carter!Reader Imagine

@peaches-1999 requested (via messenger): “So I have question about Meet my father can you do a part 2 were they go on deployment and the reader crys “

For @rebelwrites fanfic friday (sorry this is going to be so late)

Meet My Dad (part one of the series)

A/N: Listen I love this concept and the first one was fun to write, so I figured I’d continue it, maybe make it a series (if anyone is still interested)

Join the taglist!

TW: alcohol, deployment, tears

Taglist: @milfdeacon @bravo-four-seal-team @chibsytelford @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @madhare0512 @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @supervalcsi @iris-oaklee-carter-911oc @mrsmarvelous1995 @velvetcardiganbucky @pinkrockstar19 @itsonautopilot @kobababy @theysayitscrazy

Ah, the pre-deployment barbecue. It was one of your favorite traditions Bravo has done over the year, mostly because it’s usually family-friendly and you got to see everyone in one spot. This year was different, though, as it was the first time you and Brock came together.

The team found out a couple days after you introduced him to your dad, as Trent and your dad wouldn’t leave Brock alone. God, you were pissed when you found out about the lye. You’re a grown up, you can date whom you please!

The alcohol was flowing, Sonny had finished with the ribs and brisket, and everyone was now around the fire pit. Trent and your dad was making eyes at each other, which always cause you to laugh a little, their teammates were oblivious to their love.

You were in Brock’s lap, with Pepper laying beside the chair, Cerberus right beside her. You loved watching them interact, both of them being so excited to see each other again since Jason took Cerb in.

It was Sonny who suggested beer pong, but instantly you beg Brock to be on your team. He finally agreed, getting up with you and walking over to the table, where Rebecca and Clay were setting up the cups.

First round was between you and Brock’s team and Lisa’s pairing with Sonny. Sonny, of course, was talking shit until you continuously beat his ass at playing beer pong.

“How’d you get so good at this?” Your dad asked, eyeing you suspiciously.

“You really want to know?” You teased, a playful glint in your eye. You laughed when he thought for a moment before shaking his head, walking off to find Trent and gripe to him about his kid being a partier during college,

After a few hours, everyone who wanted to had a turn playing beer pong, and thanks to Trent and your dad’s skills, you were properly tipsy. Problem was, you hung onto Brick like he was the forbidden fruit tree when you were drunk, so you were much more comfortable than earlier.

You kiss him passionately, his hands going to your waist while yours find his hair. You break away for only a moment, letting you take a breath. Before you went back for more, you hear him whisper, “Let’s go home.”

You nod, letting him go start the car and put Pepper in her kennel while you went to find everyone and say goodbye. Dad was the last one you found, and you gave him the biggest hug imaginable.

“I’m gonna see you tomorrow boo bear, you don’t have to squeeze me this tight,” he laughed, rubbing your back until you backed away.

“I know, just gonna miss you,” you said softly, smiling at him. Eventually you sighed, nodding as you bid him goodnight, walking back to the truck and going home, spending the rest of the night letting Brock know just how much you’re going to miss him the next three months.

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It’s Deployment Day.

You always hated this day, the day when your dad left for three months of danger, and limited contact. To make it worse, this was your first time Brock is going to be away from you for a long period of time since you started dating.

You didn’t get up right away, instead cuddling closer into your boyfriend’s arms, hearing him chuckle as you did so. You always felt so safe with him, like the world didn’t exist as long as you two could stay like this.

“We have to get up soon,” he whispered, causing you to groan. He laughed lightly, kissing your forehead before you nodded, sighing.

“You sure you have to leave today?” You asked rhetorically, pouting as he nodded.

“‘M sure. Only for three months,” he said quietly, studying your face before reaching down, kissing you on your lips gently, adding more passion as your hand finds his neck, pulling you into him.

Sighing, you finally let go, nodding as he stood up, grabbing your hand as he lead you to the shower, wanting as much time with you as possible before he left.

————————————————————

The Naval Airfield Oceana, five miles from the shore. You can almost taste the salt in the air, which is generally comforting. Never is on this day, though.

Nothing is.

You get out of your car, Pepper and Brock following behind. You saw almost everyone else was there already, saying goodbye to their families.

You hugged Brock, desperately not wanting to let him go. You heard him chuckle, your grip so tight you were almost hurting him. Tears rolling down your cheek, you felt his grip tighten to comfort you. “It’s okay, only for three months,” he comforted you, whispering into your ear.

You nod, stifling a cry as he lets you go, using his thumb to wipe your tears away. “I love you, sweets,” he said, smiling as he used his stupid nickname for you, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

“I love you too,” you whispered, stretching up to kiss him, his hands resting at your hips, pulling you into him. He broke away, keeping his face close to yours, you running a hand through his curls.

He smiled, “I’ll email you as soon as we land,” he said, kissing you once more before backing away. You nod, letting him go so he can walk on the plane. You then walk over to your Dad, who was talking to Trent.

“You two better behave while you’re away,” you teased, smiling at them as you came closer. Your dad brought you in for a deep hug, squeezing tightly before kissing you on the temple, letting you go so you could hug Trent.

“You know the drill, keep Whiskers company and take care of yourself,” your dad reminded you, his way of telling you he’ll miss you while he’s gone.

“I will,” you laugh, shaking your head at his roughness. He hugs you once more, this time whispering, “I love you, kiddo.”

“I love you too, Dad. Please be safe,” you whispered, hugging him tightly, smiling as he let go.

You waved as they nodded, walking away to get onto the plane. You held back tears, watching as the plane took off, taking away your dad and the man you loved, hopefully not forever.

You would never know how close you were to losing them all.

#brock reynolds x carter!reader #seal team #carter!reader #trent sawyer x full metal #brock reynolds #scott full metal carter #trent sawyer #brock reynolds x reader

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thebadboyfanclub · 4 years

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I Got You (Napoleon x Reader)

This is the third time i’m trying to post this fucking thing, tumblr won’t let the posts I do from my laptop under search results but they will show posts I do from my phone. Anyways, enjoy!

“This better be worth it Waverly”

“Ohhh (y/n) dear trust me it will. Let me introduce you to your new colleagues”

As she walked in the room with one big desk and a few chairs, three of them were occupied by two men and one woman, probably in her 20s. Her eyes however focused on one particular man.... The man that was one of the reasons you thrived in the illegal field.

“This is Miss Gaby Teller, the most important person in this case, next to her is mister Illya Kuryakin, her supposed fiance and-”

“Napoleon Solo. The thief”

She bitterly interrupted Waverly, he was of course aware of (y/n)’s past with Napoleon, it was one of the reasons he requested her to join this case, keeping from her that piece of information of course.

“(y/f/n), you’ve grown up”

“you got old”

“Right, now that everyone knows each other, (y/n) please take a seat and i’ll explain the plan”

As she took a seat from the other side of the table, directly in front of Napoleon, she tried to focus on Waverly and ignore Napoleons intense stare that almost drilled a hole on the side of her head.

“Ok, so since Illya is here to be the love interest for Gaby and Napoleon is here to just get some Italian legs in the air, what am I here for?”

“You dear (y/l/n), you will be portraying miss Brigitte Richard, an heir to the Richard well know Cigar, he is a close friend of mine and graciously agreed to take his daughters name”

“Won’t they know what his daughter looks like?”

“His daughter has been kept away from the public eye and she had transferred in Britain during high school, that’s also where she went to College and recently decided to stay there. I will give you a file of hers to study. Your goal is to get close to Victoria vinciguerra during the event, maybe even seem interested in mister Solo, of course for show, nothing more”

“Of course, everything is only just for show when it has to do with Napoleon”

(Y/n) was dressed in her best attire, her long red dress that hugged her waist so beautifully, of course some silver diamond earrings on her ears and her hair up in a perfect updo, her heels were comfortable at least, but if she had to run the dress would not hold for long until it gives a show to anyone around her, she prays that it didn’t have to happen, or she would be royally screwed,

“Miss Richard , your father was right you do have your mothers eyes”

What a fool, she thought, this is who she was hiding from? a woman that complimented her for the resemblance in her eyes.... she wasn’t even close to being related to this people. However, on the outside, she smiled brightly at the tall blonde lady

“Thank you so much, god rest her soul she at least she was generous enough to pass them down to me, my dads brown eyes are great but a tad bit boring don’t you think?”

The blonde gave a tight lip smile to her comment. Of course, if she knew that her real parent had never seen this type of luxury, the lady wouldn’t even spare a glance.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, Victoria Vinciguerra”

“Brigitte Richard, my father made sure to keep me away from all of... this, he wanted his kids to be humble”

“I’m really sorry for your brother”

“It’s alright, I miss him but... c’est la vie”

(Y/n) had almost swallowed the file Waverly had given her, she even looked into the cigar company, just in case anyone asked questions. As the two ladies kept talking, she started hearing commotion,she turned her head towards the direction it was coming from and saw one familiar man falling to the ground.

“What is going on over there?”

“Excuse me dear”

Victoria started walking towards him and of course (y/n) followed. When they finally reached the crowd that was already forming a circle around him, there he was fanning himself the invitation dramatically, in true Napoleon fashion. (Y/n) kissed her teeth in annoyance, he was supposed to discreetly blend in, not cause a god damn ruckus the minute he walks in.

“Thank you, Thank you”

“I wonder what they do to people without invitations”

That is when she decided to take actions. She weaseled her way out of the crowd and kneeled in front of him to his level, offering her glass of champagne to him.

“Are you alright sir?”

“Yes, thank you very much Darling”

“I’m Victoria Vinciguerra, she is (y/f/n). I do believe an apology is in order. I’ll take it from here”

You helped him get up on his feet and took two steps to lean in and talked to her.

“of course miss Vinciguerra... next one is mine”

She giggled as she walked away in triumphant. To be frank the rest of your job was to keep an eye on these two, yet she could still say she completed the most important part.What she didn’t expect was the growing fire in the pit of her stomach that was directed to Victoria, looking at her talking to Napoleon so nonchalantly made her teeth hurt and her breasts ached with rage.

“It’s such a lovely day to be so pouty miss”

“Well sir... there is nothing really here for me to smile about”

“Not even me?”

“I think I am better off being the reason for someone to smile”

“Roberto Russo, charmed”

“Brigitte Richard”

Roberto was a handsome man, tall, light brown hair, hazel eyes, sharp jawline, full lips and extremely well dressed, no doubt he knew his way around women and money. What a better distraction and cover up than him?

What (y/n) had not calculated was Napoleon picking up at her “strategic” flirt and filling like punching the hell out of this pretentious little Italian boy that grew up spending daddy’s money. He restrained himself from walking over to her and taking her hand, guiding her away from everyone, keeping her all to herself.

“I saw you were talking to my aunt”

“Oh you are related to Victoria?”

“Yes, my dad is her brother. I actually haven’t spoken to her today, come with me?”

“How could I ever refuse?”

As he offered his arm she smiled and linked hers with his, walking over with her head held high as they got close to Napoleon and Victoria

“My dearest Roberto, how are you?”

she kissed her nephew at both of his cheeks and yet no smile was shown. She really was cold, Roberto however smiled brightly, feeling excited to show his knew “catch” to his aunt.

“I’m doing well... who might he be?”

“Jack Devinsky, Nice to meet you”

Roberto looked at Napoleon up and down, almost well not almost... judging him harshly. Napoleons sure looked rich but there were levels to how rich you were, especially when men judged one another.

“Roberto Russo. Well... aunt Victoria may I occupy you for a minute”

“Of course, anything for my nephew”

“It will only take a minute dear”

“I am counting”

She replied at him, he took her hand and placed a gentle kiss as he stared directly in her eyes, winking at her as she left her with Napoleon. They stood there in awkward silence for a few moments, they haven’t really spoken since the case started, (y/n) made sure to avoid him.

“You look stunning if that isn’t obvious”

“Thanks”

She said dryly. She barely even looked him in the eye, all she could see was that damn night, the night she lost everything, the night her heart shuttered, the night he showed her all the cruelty of the world he always talked about.

“You are mad at me”

“Do you blame me?”

“No, it still upsets me though”

“That sounds like a personal issue to me”

The event was a success. which meant (y/n) could finally relax and wear her pajamas, pour a drink for herself and lounge in the couch her room had. She still wore his necklace, the gold star necklace he had bought her way back when... she took the charm in her hands and felt the cold metal.

How much more could she take with him around? it took her so much time to heal and now here he was again, scratching the wounds she had closed up all by herself. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a knock at her door. She got up to answer it and was met with the man of the hour.

“Napoleon”

“May I come in?”

She sighed before stepping aside to let him in. Even when all she wanted was to punch him in the face, her heart took over her and let him walk into her room and her life once again, even when she had swore to take revenge when she saw him again.

“What do you want?”

“To talk”

“About what?”

She was well aware she was snapping at him, could you blame her? He had swore to protect her, help her when she had nothing and no one, taught her everything and then one night she came home to find all his belongings missing... and that damn letter tore her apart, she didn’t sleep for days, she waited for him to return for months and yet he never did.

“(Y/n) I know-”

“YOU KNOW NOTHING

”her voice booming through the entire room, it was like a glass of emotions was overflowing, threating to spill and make a mess. He saw the pain in her face, her lower lips trembling, her hands forming fists... still what caught his eye was one thing, the necklace. She was wearing his necklace, after all these years she didn’t throw it away. He took a breath through his nose before continuing.

“(y/n) you have every right to be upset-”

“Damn right I do”

“Will you just listen?”

“listen to what Napoleon?! What?!What?!What?!”

Next thing that was heard was her glass smashing at the wall, Vodka dripping down and small pieces of glass going everywhere. Napoleon was shocked, he should have known this wouldn’t be easy, he had wanted to reach out to her over the years, he had even went through with finding her, yet every time he chickened out last minute and walked away from it. Now, here she was in pain, yelling and smashing things... she had become his enemy

“I’m sorry”

“You are sorry? Sorry? for what Napoleon? for leaving me? for doing it in such cruel way? for lying to me?”

“I never lied”

“You swore to me that you loved me, that you... cared”

There it was, tears. She couldn’t even control it, as her voice cracked and the waterfalls started, she didn’t also want to cover them, she wanted him to see what he had done... to hell with being the bigger person. He wanted to hug her, comfort her, make her feel loved but now all he could do was to try and reason with her.

“I had to leave”

“Why? What could possibly be the reason... money? paintings? women?”

“You know I would never cheat on you”

“Oh yeah, cause leaving our house in the middle of the night is so much better”

She tried wipe away her tears, silence falling between them once again. As a way to calm and hide her emotions, she kneeled and started picking up pieces of glass, her back turned to him. Napoleon went to her side and even when he wanted to pick her up and kiss her, he controlled his desire

“(Y/n) stop, you’ll cut yourself”

“I’m fine Napoleon”

“(Y/n) the maid can do it”

“I said I’m- FUCK”

a piece of sharp glass had cut her as she accidentally gripped it a bit too hard. Napoleon saw the blood and got up immediately to find some tissues, while (y/n) got on her feet and brought her hand close to her chest, closing it to a fist as a way to stop the pain. When Napoleon approached she turned her back once again

“I said I’m fine”

“(Y/n) you are bleeding, let me care for you”

She had started crying again. As she turned around and opened her hand to him Napoleon gently placed the tissues on the wound, dabbing away the blood carefully.

“Why did you leave?”

“I thought I was protecting you, a way to keep you away from all of the things I was doing”

“Yet... here we are”

He looked up at her. Her lower lip was in between her teeth, tears freshly running down, her beautiful eyes were now red and puffy, her nose was running and he still found her heavenly.

“You kept the necklace”

“I tried throwing it away, or ponding it... I couldn’t find the courage... it’s too pretty”

“I tried coming back to you... multiple times”

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“I don’t know, I just didn’t”

She finally kept eye contact with him, getting lost once again in those ocean blue eyes, the eyes she looked at when they were laying naked on their bed, the eyes that looked at her when she woke up. With his one hand Napoleon slowly reached over and wiped a few tears with his thumb

“You are too pretty to cry over me”

“I missed you Napoleon”

She whispered looking down on the ground in embarrassment. She was everything he ever wanted, a woman that loved him and had his back and he tossed that all away, his intentions were pure yet the damage was gigantic. He hesitated for a minute, before taking her in his arms for a hug, her head nuzzling on his neck as she held on to him for the first time in what felt like centuries. Napoleon kissed her head, smelling her shampoo that was always the same, lavender.

“I missed you too munchkin”

She giggled at the nickname. Napoleon had met her when she was struggling to survive, she was this delicate little thing that looked everyone with kind eyes, yet once he got to know her he saw the passion, the fire, the potential she had to become something great, he didn’t want all that potential to go on illegal things that could possibly get her in jail or worse kill her. So from the beginning of the relationship he called her munchkin.

“Will we be alright?”

“I got you munchkin, I got you”

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polar534 · 4 years

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Hockey AU: The First Shot

As I posted the overview, I realized I should probably give y'all a taste of what this AU will eventually turn into. So have the first shortish chapter of the fic:

Amity didn't have to guess where Luz was headed. She could hear her girlfriend's thundering, excited, footsteps race up to their room from up on the second floor. Mentally counting down, she gestured lazily at the door just as Luz burst through it, grinning wildly.

"Annnd there she is." Amity pointed out casually, turning back to her book.

"Amiiiiiiii!! Guess what I got us!" Luz said excitedly, practically teleporting to the witch's side as she leaned dramatically onto her girlfriend.

Amity chuckled, rolled her eyes and set the book she was reading aside.

"Hmmm. Is it some personal space?" She teased, gently elbowing Luz in the stomach, prompting a small giggle out of the human.

"Noooo. Besides, you love it when I hang all over you." Luz teased back as she climbed up onto the bed with Amity and sprawled across her lap.

Amity giggled as she leaned forward rapidly to give Luz a peck on the lips.

"Mmmmmm, I guess I don't mind." Amity smirked as Luz recovered from the unexpected kiss.

"What'd you get us, dork?"

Luz blinked as if just remembering the reason she came barreling into the room in the first place. Amity lifted her hand to hold back a laugh as realization struck on the human's face.

"Oh right! I got us 2 tickets to... 'Sport'!" She grinned, sitting up and pulling two pieces of paper out of her pockets. Luz waved them dramatically in front of her face as Amity frowned.

"Another sport? Luz you've taken us to 5 different ones already. Just how many human sports are there?"

Luz's face took a serious expression.

"Probably hundreds." The seriousness slipped off her face and was replaced by a dorky yet excitable lopsided grin.

Amity felt herself blush.

"But trust me, you're going to love it! I mean it's got violence and elegance and it's one of my favorite sports ever! Plus, I've never known anyone who doesn't like Hockey."

***

“Luz?”

Amity’s voice came muffled from inside the thick sweatshirt her girlfriend had just shoved over her head. The witch wiggled her way through it, popping her head out to stare as Luz wrapped herself up in a similar heavy sweatshirt and grinned at her.

“Yeah?”

“You have been outside today, right? I really don’t think we‘ll need these.” Amity pointed out kindly.

Regardless of the confusion as to why, Amity pulled her arms through the sweatshirt anyways and went to grab the tickets Luz had left sitting on the desk.

“Haha, yeah. But the game’s indoors, and trust me, you are going to want the warmth when we get into the arena.” Luz smiled at her as she snaked an arm around the witch’s torso and snatched the tickets out of her hand.

“Really?” Amity groaned as Luz smirked.

“If you want them back, you gotta catch me!” The human called out over her shoulder as she disappeared down the stairs, pulling her shoes on as she ran.

“I don’t want to waste any time! IT’S HOCKEY SEASON!!” Amity heard her shout excitedly as she heard the front door slam.

Making sure to grab her phone, Amity rolled her eyes. Whatever this ‘hockey’ was, Luz was more excited then the witch had seen her in a long time. Her girlfriend had told her all about how Camilla always got tickets to the local college teams games. How every year her and her mother would catch at least 2-3 games. She neglected to mention, however, just what hockey was, how it was played, or pretty much anything about the sport at all. Just that Amity would ‘love’ it.

Looking out the window at the girl waving excitedly back up at her, Amity smiled. Of course she would love this ‘hockey’, how could she not if it made Luz light up so much?

***

“ANNNNND THAT’S ANOTHER GOAL FOR YOUR LOCAL GRIFFONS!!” The announcer boomed excitedly as the players made a victory lap around the ice. At the ends of the rink, two parallel sets of fire-spitting machines lit up along with the crowd and the music.

Amity. Was. Transfixed.

Hockey, she had found out, was the exact opposite of everything she had grown up learning about ice and skating. Instead of the absolute perfection of elegance her parents had drilled into her, these players skated with reckless abandon. It was about speed and it was about power. They crashed into one another and the walls more frequently then they spent chasing the round goal scorer. Or at least that what it appeared like on the surface. It only took a single quarter for Amity to appreciate the level of complexity of the ‘checks’ Luz had called them. It was about defense more then offense when the other players attacked, and every movement, every rapid turn around, took extreme precision and handling of your skates and body on the ice. The game was fast paced and unapologetic and it wasn’t long before Amity found herself launching out her seat right beside Luz as the players made passes towards the goal.

***

Shortly before the game ended Luz had them both sneak away from the bleachers and into the school itself. The Griffon's were up by 3 and it was almost assured that they would win. Amity was about to protest, wanting to see how the game ended, but she saw a mischievous twinkle in the human’s eye that she recognized as trouble.

It was because of that very glint of trouble that Amity now found herself approaching the ice, hours after the game and everyone had gone home, with her girlfriend who had "borrowed" a stick and puck to practice with.

Luz wasted no time and practically vaulted herself up and over the small railing that seperated the ice from the arena. Within a millisecond of her landing, she promptly disappeared, her body collapsing towards the ground.

Amity dashed forward. "Luz!"

She heard a low groan from the otherside of the railing as the witch vaulted over it as well.

Whipping around she found Luz struggling to get back on her feet. Every time the human would get her limbs together enough to attempt to stand, something went wrong and she ended up sprawled out on her back or stomach once again.

Amity practically had to carry Luz back to the railing. Helping her climb up it and sit, her girlfriend frowned deeply.

"Alright. It shouldn't be THAT hard to walk on ice right? I must've just had a bad start."

Amity looked her over. On her legs and arms there were small nicks and scrapes from the ice and the beginnings of a dark bruise on her chin and elbow.

"Here, let me try again, besides I still got to get the stick and puck back." Luz concluded, shifting to get off the railing.

Amity reacted without saying a word, sliding in front of her.

"Nope. You're already injured, I'm not about to let you hurt yourself more trying to prove a point. You stay here and I'll go grab the stuff we borrowed." Amity explained sternly, looking Luz directly in the eyes.

Luz wilted and Amity felt only slightly bad as she saw the acceptance in her eyes.

"We can try skating another night, preferably when we aren't sneaking into the rink." She offered gently.

Luz lit up once more. "Sounds like you're asking me out on a date, Blight." She smirked as Amity rolled her eyes.

"Oh please. Holding you up the entire time sounds more like a work-out then a date." Amity teased back with a grin.

Squeezing her girlfriend's hands one last time, the pale witch pushed herself away from the railing and looked out over the dimly lit rink. The stick had skidded to a stop about near the center of the rink, while the puck was still slowly making it's way to the home team's goal.

Walking on ice was quite a bit different the skating, but Amity had been groomed from a young age to be perfectly balanced at everything she did. It made her only slightly sick as she made her way with ease over to the stick, remembering the countless days her parents forced her to be out on the ice. When she bent down to pick it up however, something changed. It rested almost perfectly in her hands, just as she had seen the players earlier hold it. Looking up at Luz she saw a spark in her girlfriend's eyes as she stared back, mouth hanging open slightly.. Amity faintly made out her mouthing something before her voice echoed across the rink.

"TRY AND MAKE A GOAL!" Luz egged her on.

Amity didn't think, her body took over. Half emulating what she had seen the players doing earlier and calling upon her own training on the ice, Amity skated over to the puck that was in motion. She gained more and more speed as her eyes locked on the target. Raising the stick back she let it rip, connecting to the puck with a satisfying CRACK as the black object sailed directly into the goal.

Luz went crazy, her cheering shattering the silence of the abandoned arena.

Amity was breathing heavily, her adrenaline running high.

It felt good.

***

Later that night, as Luz was snoring softly on her chest, Amity found herself following her girlfriend's advice and looked up some local rec teams.

There was something she respected about all human sports. The lack of magic or auto-win conditions made every match a true struggle, one that had the players relying on hardwork and skill to come out the victor. It was fascinating and thrilling to watch. Hockey was the first sport she felt was different. Amity didn't just want to watch. She wanted to learn, and she wanted to experience it.

She wanted to hear Luz cheer her name more.

It didn't take her long to come to her decision as a familiar name popped on her screen.

Looking down at her girlfriend's sleeping face, Amity smiled.

How perfect would it be if she joined a hockey team called: "The Otter's."

#toh #the owl house #toh au #the owl house au #lumity #Hockey AU

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ancaporado · 3 years

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It's been difficult to process the spree killing in Boulder. I lived in Boulder for 9 years. Until 2020, when I moved to Wyoming, I lived actually just 1km from that King Soopers. My first job in college was working the night shift stocking shelves at the other King Soopers in Boulder when I was 20 years old - just like one of the victims, Denny Stong. For the rest of the time I lived in Boulder, I worked a very public facing job and all the faces of the victims are familiar to me; people I'd seen before, if not spoken to. I have mutual friends, acquaintances, and connections to almost all of the victims. I've seen in my direct social media feeds the families mourning their loses.

As I saw the initial reports roll in I tried to downplay it, thinking it was a botched robbery or mugging, with a victim or two at most. As the police presence increased through the afternoon and the media swarmed the location is became more difficult to deny that it was a murder spree, with many victims.

I remember helping an elderly man pump his gas at the station there. Dropping friends and coworkers off nearby after a shift. I had to pick up bags of ice on the way to work from that store. I ate breakfast once a week in the diner just down the street to it. I took almost all my first dates to the brewery adjacent to it. I would meet friends in the lot to carpool to climbing or skiing. I went there for groceries 2 or 3 times a week. It's a place I had been often for a long time.

I really wish that there was a way to have stopped the murderer before he opened fire in the parking lot and went into the store that afternoon. People are bringing up that the City of Boulder had enacted an ordnance banning "assault weapons" for purchase or carry inside of city limits. This ban was lifted by a court order just 10 days prior to the murders, and would have applied to the weapon which was used. I don't see how this specific law would have done anything to prevent the tragedy as the weapon and murderer originated from outside the city, in Arvada, and until the shooting started there was no crime committed.

On top of that the ordinance was dead on arrival, it wasn't enforced by the city police, compliance for registration was basically only a handful of people, out of the obvious of hundreds of local gun owners who showed up to protest the ordinance at city council meetings for weeks The ordinance was penned as a reaction to the Parkland Highschool massacre in Florida.

Many opposed to the city's law pointed to the Colorado state law about preemption of firearms regulation by the state. The intent of preemption is to prevent a confusing patchwork of contradictory laws that make gunowners criminals just for travelling or moving through the state from town to town. Ultimately, through a series of legal challenges and appeals a Judge ruled that the state's preemption law still does apply to the city of Boulder and that the ordinance was null and void. Nothing actually changed on the ground in Boulder that day except the local police department destroy the handful gun-registration records that they had generated as a grandfathering clause for existing "assault weapons" in city limits.

So would a state-wide ban on "assault weapons" have worked? Doubtful, gun parts are readily available online with no background checks. Once a receiver is either purchased, or manufactured via 80% kits that require only a power drill to complete, or even plastic 3d printed ones made at home, assembly is a bit like Lego blocks.

Background checks? The NICS is operated by the FBI and along with the Colorado Bureau of Investigation (CBI) they preform mandatory background checks for all purchasers in the state of Colorado. While the suspect has a criminal history nothing actually rose to the level of disbarring them from legally acquiring a firearm. One could level the charge that the FBI and CBI dropped the ball on this one, they approved the purchase despite the warning signs. I hope they feel some guilt today, but with the ease that background checks can be circumvented it's perhaps a non-sequitur

Colorado also has a "Red Flag" law that allows friends, family, coworkers, etc.. to report individuals for emergency firearms seizure by the local police or sheriff. This is another place where, I believe close relatives or any of the people who knew him and saw the warning signs should be deeply remorseful for not acting to prevent it. This isn't that I necessarily support red flag laws, but if they were going to use them this would have been the time.

Regardless of any laws that could be enacted or enforced to prevent something like this happening I'll tell you that the government can do very little to protect you, even if they wanted to. Every single thing fell through the cracks. The world is a dangerous place no matter how many state protectors you can muster around you. The people there that day were lucky to have a police officer nearby who was willing to charge into the fire on their behalf. Police have no legal duty to protect anyone outside of their custody. Still, when that police officer did intervene they paid with their life. I've seen reports that they issued verbal commands but were unable to stop the suspect before being slain themselves.

Please, get yourself training. Learn medical techniques to stop bleeding and trauma. Learn situational awareness and a defensive mindset. Become physically fit so you can run and jump and carry and fight. And if you're prepared, purchase and learn to use a firearm, get training and keep it on you. You could save your life and others.

The day I turned 21 I purchased my first handgun in Boulder, CO and then applied for my concealed carry permit. I received that permit just a month later and began carry a loaded pistol concealed on my waist at all times for the past 7 years. Interestingly, Colorado even permits Concealed Handgun Permit(CHP) holders to carry on campus, so during my tenure at CU Boulder during my junior and senior years, I carried a loaded gun in class and at work on campus.

I carried a loaded handgun in that King Soopers hundreds of times. I train with my pistol regularly, at the range or shooting competitions practicing drawing and firing, reloading, accuracy, speed, and safety. I don't wish I was there. I don't know that I'd have been able to stop the violence, I don't know that I'd run towards it. I do know that as long as I wasn't the first person shot I'd have had a chance to wound or kill the attacker. That I had not been slaughtered but had fought.

Make yourself difficult to kill.

#guns #gunblr #marchforourlives #boulder #awb #colorado #conceal carry #edc

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aliypop · 3 years

Text

To The One Before

word count: 1,697

Warning: Mentions of panic attack

A/N : Heres a bit of backstory to my character I hope you guys Enjoy it!

"Family isn't who you're born with: it's who you'd die for." Alexandra Morgan was 13 when she first heard that phrase from her best friend, Ray Stantz, "My family is like a tornado, Ray..." she sighed, taking a bite of Ray's Hershey bar. Ray knew what it was like to have parents who were perfectionists, after all: he was the product of a housewife and a doctor. "One day, I'm going to leave that house, and I'll never come back!" she laughed standing, on top of the hood.

"You don't mean that do you?"

"With my whole heart..." she smiled, sitting back down with him. Ray smiled back, saddened by the fact that she would say such a thing. "But what about me.. And.. and our ghost club!" he asked as Alexandra kept ranting on about her plan to leave home.

"I couldn't forget my best friend." she took him by the hand and squeezed it,

"Beside's, who's gonna protect you from Carl.." her thick glasses-covered eyes looked at him,

"Well, promise me this, Alexandra..." he handed her a stay puft marshmallow. "That we'll always be friends even in college."

"Why college?" she examined the marshmallow poking at the sugary treat. "Because... why not!"

"No talking to boys or looking at them, and if you do- " Dennis, Alexandra's, father was as nervous as most dads were when dropping their daughters off to college, but he wasn't as nervous as her mother,

" If you get homesick, you can always call, and you know we're only 45 minutes away, and I got you one of those calculator things and!"

"JEAN, you're scaring the girl! Dennis sighed, "What we're trying to say is strive for perfection ... anything less and.."

"You'll pull me right out of this science jazz..." she sighed: ever since Alexandra had been little, her father never understood her passion for physics and doing experiments. He always knew that women got their brains from the pantry, not books, but Alexandra was different. When most girls played with easy bake ovens, she made nuclear reactors using antennas from their old tv set and jumper cables. Her inspiration came from some kid in Ohio who made one using chicken dung. "That's my girl... and remember.."

"No boys," she sighed pushing, her glasses up, "As if any will ever like me.." she sassed.

"That's not true, sweetheart," Jean said, lifting her daughter's chin.

"Mother, must I remind you I went to prom with Ray!"

"And you two were a lovely pair."

Alexandra sat in her dorm, isolated from the rest of the world, which was how she liked it. A book in her hand and a pencil in another, she was ready to finish the first semester of work. As she listened to the radio, she began singing along with the Jackson 5. Ray, however, was wandering around with his new best friend, Peter Venkman, a Missouri native with the charm of a con man. Both Ray and Peter had been walking by the dorms in which the two had been talking about Atlantis.

"It was just my imagination, running away with me. " a voice sang as the two were slowly approaching the women's dormitory.

"Alexandra..." Ray gasped, running towards the sound of her voice.

"Ray?!" she poked her head out from the door: as she saw the two men standing there, she couldn't take her eyes off of "This is Peter Venkman he's my.."

"Friend replacing me already, aren't cha." she joked as she invited the two inside. There had already been notes on her wall as well as books on her floor. "I see you got busy..." Peter remarked, looking at the way her eyes sparkled through her glasses and how her lips curled. "Didn't class just start.." he thought to himself as Ray read behind her theories of time travel.

" Because I know you didn't mean that in an innocuous way, I'll respond with Yes," she turned to look at him as her heart nearly skipped a beat,

"Nerd much?" Peter whispered as Ray turned around in shock, he knew that that was a phrase that Alex never enjoyed hearing.

"I prefer to say an intellectual, but perhaps you wouldn't understand." she scoffed. "I beg to differ."Peter walked towards Alexandra, as he got closer towards her,

"You're just a know it all.." he smirked, "Or a narcissist .." he said in a whisper, looking down at her lips. Alexandra laughed, noticing how close they were. She had never in her life been this close to anyone, especially a man such as Venkman.

"My father warned me to stay away from boys, you know.."

" Well, I don't see your old man around..." he pulled her close to him as the heat from her face radiated fog from her glasses.

" I'll pick you up, say 8 pm."

"Should I bring my books?"

"Sure, but I doubt you'll need them." he winked.

As years passed and Ray and Peter grew closer as friends, so did Alexandra and Peter. It was a cold New York December morning, and sitting by the window wearing one of Peters shirts was Alexandra. Hot tears streamed down her face as she held her term papers in hand. In all her academic life, she had never gotten a D: her world was crumbling, "Hey, it's three in the morning.." Peter then looked at the half-empty bottle of brandy that he and Ray usually would split.

"Do I need to wake Ray..."

Alexandra shook her head, unresponsive to his question. "Wanna tell me about it.." he then asked, sitting in front of her. "I'm going to fail.." she repeated in heavy breaths, her hands nearly pulling at her thick curls. Peter had semi-studied this behavior before but to see it happen in person terrified him. "Breathe." he held her hand, Alexandra nodded, as she only breathed faster, nearly hyperventilating. "That's not what I meant, but breathing is breathing..." he mumbled. As the sun began to shine, the two were eating pizza and talking about their families.

"Try having a father who is not even proud about his son going to college.

"Try being a music prodigy by age six and science prodigy at 9." she laughed, "I have so many expectations set on me and..." she looked at Peter, who gave her a look she knew too well. Peter, although now a part of the parapsychology world he still was great in psychology. "You did it again.."

"I don't know what you mean.." he smirked.

"Oh, I could just!" she stood up, falling into his arms. "Kiss me.." he suggested, kissing her lips ever so sweetly. There were days when Peter was a gentleman, sweet and caring, but there were days when Alexandra would throw curses his way and wish she'd never see him again, days where she'd cry in Ray's arms, and all he could say was " Peter didn't mean it this time did he..." he asked watching her stuff her face with pizza and ice cream. "We broke up again.." she cried, "Because I got offered to teach at the university.."

"That's good!" Ray smiled, "I mean, it's what you've always wanted, right?" he then stopped talking. It was true that Alexandra wanted to teach quantum physics and engineering, but to see Peter move on so fast when she told him the news only made it worse.

As time went on and Alexandra had gotten adjusted to her new life as a professor, her date life only sunk worse.

"Alright, class, I'm Dr. Morgan today we'll be talking about the theory of Relativity.." Alexandra turned towards her class in which she heard the protest of groans. The year was 1984, Alexandra: was 31 years old and living in Manhattan. " I assume you took Dr. Spengler's theory class, or else you wouldn't be in mine." she glared at a few students over her glasses. To say that Alexandra's quantum physics and engineering classes were easy was an understatement.

From her labs to her assignments, there was nothing easy about her not since, "Can I help you, Dr. Venkman.." she glared at him, nearly wanting to set him on fire. "Just looking for a few students who'd want to do a few paid experiments," he smirked. When paid was involved, it meant Venkman rather than the students. "Make it quick, Venkman.. " she rolled her eyes. As her lecture progressed, she noticed a pair of eyes staring at her, they were stern, a bit cynical, and they were listening to her rant about the theory of being in a paradox.

"So if you were to see yourself uh.. " she kept looking at him as her mind went blank, and her heart nearly pounding. "You could ruin the structure of the world." the voice in the back responded.

Sitting at her desk as her students left, Alexandra took it upon herself to stay behind and work on her UPC or more so known as an ecto camera. As she heard heavy footsteps run past her classroom, she knew that it was

" Ray?"

"We got one!" he shouted, ushering her to follow him.

"Is it a 1 or 5?" she asked him, following him around to their lab.

"She wasn't very friendly..."

"So a five it i-" she stood in front of their door, watching as the dean removed their gear from their lab space. "Well, that's unfortunate ..." she whispered under her breath, looking up at the man who was in her class earlier.

"What am I supposed to tell my mother.." he mumbled.

"What are we going to do now!"

" I say drill a hole through Peter's head.." Alexandra said under her breath as Egon smiled, "So you're a fan of trepanation too." he asked as both Peter and Ray tried to get her to switch the subject. "I always say that if done right, could cure a disease if done wrong, a lobotomy or death. " she shrugged her shoulders, "Although I wouldn't advise it on a hamster," she added.

"Why's that?"

"Makes them go crazy..." she laughed, looking at him, "I'm Dr. Alexandra Morgan."

"Dr. Egon Spengler."

#ghostbusters fanfiction #ghostbusters oc #ghostbuster x oc #ray stantz #egon spengler #Peter Venkman #fanfiction #oc x canon

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grantyort · 4 years

Photo

Prelude IV: Relight

Post-Surgery: DAY ONE

[Sean sits in the hospital bed, legs crossed, staring into space when he hears a familiar voice.]

Joey: Sean, Sean Diaz? Well damn. I never thought I’d see your sorry ass again!

Sean: Geez Joey. Is that how you talk to all your patients?

Joey: Just the ones I like.

[Sean chuckles]

Joey: C’mere big man.

[Joey gives Sean a big bear hug]

Sean: How’ve you been Joey?

Joey: Can’t complain. These days, they got me up in hospice care. You’re probably the first person I’ve seen today that didn’t need their bedpans changed.

Sean: Sounds terrible.

Joey: It’s all not all bad. Lot of these folks have stories that you wouldn’t believe. One of my patients has lived through five wars and two depressions, tells me I’m a credit to my race.

Sean: Yeesh.

Joey: (shrugs) She means well. It’s almost flattering compared to some of the stuff I’ve heard. Been on this job almost ten years now, some people still treat me like I have no idea what I’m doing.

Sean: That sucks Joey.

Joey: Yeah... Anyway, you seem to be doing pretty well for yourself. From what I heard, this procedure cost a small fortune. You must have friends in high places.

Sean: Yeah, something like that.

Joey: And no guard at the door this time. I assume everything got cleared up with the police? Not planning to make a break for it again are ya?

Sean: Nah, no daring escapes this time.

Joey: Good. I don’t think I’d survive another blow to the head.

Sean: Listen Joey I’m really sorry-

Joey: (laughs) Relax Sean! I’m just messing with you! It’s ancient history as far as I’m concerned. Say, did you ever end up finding that brother of yours?

Sean: Yeah. He’s actually coming to visit me tomorrow.

Joey: Can’t wait to meet him!

Sean: Famous last words.

Joey: So… what you been up to these days?

Sean: Mostly just cramming for the SATs, drawing, listening to music. Normal teenage shit.

Joey: That’s good to hear. I was worried about you man. You went AWOL after the hospital. I got police and Feds breathing down my neck for weeks. Then a month later, I hear about a couple of kids trying the border to Mexico on the news.

Sean: Sorry I never reached out. I just didn’t want to get you more involved than you already were-

Joey: You made the right call. They questioned me for hours. My apartment was filled with G-men, my girlfriend was freaked. I honestly thought she was going to dump my ass.

Sean: I’m really sorry Joey.

Joey: Don’t sweat it Sean, it was for a good cause. Besides, everything worked out in the end.

Sean: Yeah I noticed, how long have you been-

Joey: Almost a year now. We’re expecting our first baby in the summer.

Sean: Congratulations dude!

Joey: Thanks, but honestly, I’m kinda nervous, don’t think I’m ready to be a father.

Sean: You’ll be a great dad, Joey. You’re awesome at taking care of people.

Joey: You’re damn right. Speaking of which, we should probably take a look at that eye of yours.

[Joey takes off the bandage and gives Sean’s eye a thorough examination]

Joey: Well it looks a helluva lot better than the last time I saw it.

Sean: That’s good to hear. I wasn’t sure it would work.

Joey: Well it’s too early to say if your vision will fully recover. But at the very least you won’t have to walk around with a patch anymore.

Sean: Good. It’s hard enough finding a prom date let alone one that’s willing to go with a pirate.

Joey: Still with the pirate jokes huh? Hopefully, you’ll have to write some new material after this.

[Joey applies a new bandage on Sean’s eye]

Joey: And you’re all set. Now as much as I love our talks, I gotta make my rounds. Buzz me if you need me.

Sean: Later Joey.

Joey: See ya tomorrow Sean.

[Joey leaves the room. Sean turns to look out the window. The door shoots open, and a small figure comes bursting in.]

Daniel: Sean!

[He jumps onto the bed and into Sean’s arms]

Stephen: (out-of-breath) Sorry, I tried to stop him, but he outran me.

Sean: You okay Stephen?

Stephen: I am… just need a minute to catch my breath. The old ticker ain’t what it used to be- I need to sit down.

Daniel: Take it easy grandpa.

Sean: What are you doing here, enano? I wasn’t expecting you guys until tomorrow.

Daniel: I made grandpa book an earlier flight. I just couldn’t wait!

[he hugs Sean again]

Sean: Haha easy. I just had surgery, remember?

Daniel: Oh right, s-sorry.

[There’s a brief flash, followed by a shutter click]

Sean: What’re you doing, gramps?

Stephen: Oh nothing, just commemorating the moment. Thanks to your brother, I finally got the hang of this newfangled smartphone camera.

Daniel (whispering): He had it stuck on selfie mode for days. Anyway, did it go? Is your eye…

Sean: I mean… it’s not 100% yet but I can sort of see again.

Daniel: T-that’s awesome! Can I see it?

Sean: Dude last time I showed you my eye, you almost cried. Besides, the doctors say I still need to keep the bandage on for a bit, while it heals.

Daniel: Right. That makes sense. Oooh this room looks cool. Do they have Netflix or a Playbox?

Sean: It’s a hospital, dude.

Daniel: Lame.

Sean: So catch me up. Did I miss anything interesting at home?

Daniel: Nah… Chris is still on that fishing trip with his dad so there’s no one to hang out with. Oh I almost forgot. He made you this card. Isn’t it awesome?

[Daniel gives Sean a hand-drawn “get-well-soon” card from Chris]

Sean: Yeah. It’s pretty cool. We can have Claire put it up when we get back.

Daniel: Grandma’s still in that feud with the lady from church.

Sean: Which one was that again?

Daniel: Agnes, the one who gives off major Lisbeth-vibes. She says grandma stole her casserole recipe for the church bake-sale. Lying bitch.

Stephen: Language!

Sean: Maybe one of us should try to smooth things over before it gets nasty.

Stephen: Hell hath no fury… lemme tell ya. I’ve been married to your grandmother long enough to know once that woman sets her mind on something… there’s no stopping her. Best to just let things run their course.

Sean: Claire can get a little… passionate sometimes. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen her lose her temper for real.

Stephen: There’s a fire in that woman. It’s part of the reason I married her. Just pray she never turns it on you. I hope I’ll never live to see that day, god willing.

[Sean notices Daniel circling the hospital bed, pressing his hand on various parts of the mattress]

Sean: (laughs) What are you doing, enano?

Daniel: Just trying to figure which side of the bed I want to sleep on tonight.

Sean: Dude. There’s no way this bed’s gonna fit both of us.

Daniel: The one in Mom’s trailer was way smaller!

Sean: Yeah well… you were a lot smaller back then.

Stephen: They have a nice area for visitors down the hall.

Daniel: But I want to stay with Sean!

Sean: I guess I could ask Joey to bring in a couch or something.

Daniel: Who’s Joey?

Sean: The nurse who took care of me after the accident. I told you about him, remember?

Daniel: Oh right! I can’t wait to meet him!

DAY TWO

Joey: How are we doing today? Any headaches, dizziness, socket pain?

Sean: Nah it’s all good. Still getting used to having depth perception again. It’s kinda weird.

Joey: You’ll get used to it. Anything else to report?

Sean: Nothing major. I’ve just been having some really weird dreams.

Joey: We have a psychiatrist on-site if you need a professional to talk to.

Sean: Nah it’s alright, probably just the drugs messing with my brain.

Joey: Well your vitals look good. We’ll go over some basic tests. You know the drill.

(Sean covers his right eye and tries to read the chart. Joey then shines a light and asks him to follow along. Finally, he asks Sean to put the cap back on the pen.)

Joey: You passed with flying colors. The doctor will be in for a final exam tomorrow and then we can discharge you.

Sean: (sarcastically) Too bad, I was ready to become the first Mexican pirate to attend college. So much for being a trailblazer.

Joey: Good to see you haven’t lost that snarky-ass sense of humor.

Joey: Anyway, I’m taking my lunch now. Want me to get you anything from the cafeteria? Wait… don’t tell me. Chocolate pecan?

Sean: You know it.

Joey: I met your brother in the hall. Cute kid.

Sean: (deadpans) Give it a few days. Then see if you get a “second opinion.”

Joey: He does seem a little… “energetic”. But that’s normal for kids his age.

Sean: Yeah one minute I’m his favorite person in the world. The next, he’s off doing God knows what, and doesn’t want me “bossing him around”. You know how it is.

Joey: Can’t say I do. Grew up in a house with three older sisters. Guess I must have been the annoying one. Daniel’s lucky to have you looking out for him. Must be tough sometimes.

Sean: Oh you have no idea.

[Joey claps Sean’s shoulder, he feels a jolt shooting up his spine, everything goes white]

(Sean sees a door marked: “Miranda A. Connolly, Hospital Director”)

Connolly: You’ve been a valuable asset to this hospital. Stellar feedback from all of your patients and attendings.

Joey: I sense a “but” coming.

Connolly: But, given the dubious circumstances surrounding your transfer and your past involvement with the law. The Board thinks it might be better for one of the other nurses to take this spot.

Joey: Please. I’ve got a kid on the way. We just bought our first house. Can you at least consider bumping up my pay? I haven’t gotten a real raise since I started here. There are kids coming out of nursing school that make what I make!

Connolly: The hospital has limited resources as it is, and the State just slashed our funding again. I just can’t justify raising anyone’s salary right now.

Joey: I break my back for this hospital, work extra shifts, get to know the patients. You promised me at the annual review that I’d-

Connolly: That was before this new information came to light. I’m sorry Joseph, maybe next year.

[Sean snaps out of his trance]

Joey: Sean? Sean are you okay?

Sean: Sorry, Guess I spaced out. Must just be the medication.

Joey: I can have the doctor come by and adjust your dosage.

Sean: I’m fine Joey. I swear. Weren’t you about to take lunch?

Joey: Oh right. We’ll pick this up later.

[Joey leaves the room, looking slightly puzzled.]

Sean: (thinking) W-what what was that? A dream? But It felt so… real.

[Sean takes out his phone and enters the name of the hospital, He finds their website. Under the ‘About’ section he scrolls to the Executive team bio. There is a photo of the woman he saw in the vision followed by a small blurb]

“Miranda A. Connolly is the President and Chief Director of Mt. Cedar General Hospital. She was appointed back in 2016 as Associate Director and has since made ground-breaking changes to the field of medicine and medical care. Under her leadership, this hospital was able to expand greatly, hiring new diverse staff members and vastly improving quality of care for all its patients.”

Sean: (thinking) Holy shit… it’s real. Does that mean I…?

Daniel: Hey Sean! What you looking at?

Sean: Dude! Don’t sneak up on me like that!

Daniel: I wasn’t sneaking. I was practicing my stealth!

Sean: Yeah sure.

Daniel: Are you looking at the new Playbox Pro? My birthday is right around the corner you know.

Sean: Birthday? It’s still January!

Daniel: Never too early to start preparing.

Sean: (rolling eyes) Yeah cuz everything’s always about you.

Daniel: Oooh I bet you were watching those dirty videos again. I’m tellin’ grandpa!

Sean: Hey hands off my phone you little-

[Daniel tries to grab Sean’s phone. Sean wrests his hand away. There is another a jolt]

[Daniel stands in front of the vending machine, staring at the jumbo chock-o-crisp. He looks around to check that the coast is clear. Then he waves his hand causing the chock-o-crisp to fall off the rack and into the dispenser slot.He gleefully retrieves it and devours the candy bar in a matter of seconds]

Sean: Dude, I told you not to eat any more chock-o-crisps! Do you want another trip to the dentist?

Daniel: What are you talking about? I haven’t had one in weeks!

Sean: Yeah sure. So you didn’t pig out at the vending machine before coming in here?

Daniel: How did you-

Sean: Maybe I have magic powers or maybe… you’ve still got crumbs on your collar.

Daniel: Aw, damn it. Promise you won’t tell grandpa.

Sean: Oh so you can tell on me but I can’t tell on you?

Daniel: (smugly) Exactly.

Sean: C’mere ya little shit!

Daniel: Sean stop! Ha that tickles. Quit it!

(After their little bout, Daniel curls up next to Sean, resting his head on Sean’s lap. Sean ruffles Daniel’s hair absentmindedly)

Sean: You ever wish you were… you know “normal” again?

Daniel: You mean not have my powers? Nah. They’re a part of me now. Besides, being normal is overrated.

Sean: (chuckles) I guess it is. But do you ever get that feeling like you thought you wanted something for a really long time but when you finally get it, it nothing like you thought it’d be?

Daniel: Uhhh… you mean like how I begged grandma to get me a PlayBox Live Subscription, but then the exclusives turned out to be shit? And now I have to act like I love it?

Sean: Yeah something like that.

Daniel: (yawns) Meh I’ll just ask for a gaming PC for my birthday.

Sean: Dude you’re like the greediest ten year-old I know.

Daniel: How many ten year-olds do you know?

Sean: Uh… just you and Chris.

Daniel: So, you want me to be more like Chris?

Sean: Wouldn’t hurt.

Daniel: (imitating Chris) “Only the purest of hearts may wield the power of Captain Spirit!”

Sean: Guess that rules you out.

Daniel: (playfully) Shut up.

DAY THREE

Doctor: Okay Mr.Diaz. I want you to follow the light. Look to your right, up and to the right. Good, good, excellent pupil response. Now look at the chart, cover your right eye and read this line.

Sean: Uh… A, O, E, P… T? Sorry I can’t really make out the last one.

Doctor: That’s okay, it takes time.

Doctor: Now this is probably the last thing you want to hear, but I recommend that you wear a patch over your right eye. It’ll be temporary of course, just until you learn to see with your left eye again.

Sean: (laughs dryly) And here I thought my seafaring days were behind me.

Doctor: You know… pirate actually wore patches so their eyes could easily adjust to the darkness and see below deck- Sorry my son’s going through a pirate phase.

Sean: I know the feeling. My little brother’s been through every phase imaginable.

Doctor: Kids, you gotta treasure every moment. Because before you know it, they’ll be all grown up, ready to go off on their own. Look at me, rambling on. Anyway, I signed your discharged papers. They’ll schedule you for some outpatient care in the coming months.You’re almost ready to go.

Sean: Sounds good.

Doctor: And you’re sure you don’t want to get do something about that nasty scar? A good-looking kid like you, it would be a shame to-

Sean: That’s okay, I think I’ll keep it… as a reminder.

Doctor: Alright but if you ever change your mind, I could refer you to a great plastic surgeon.

Sean: Thanks Doc, for everything.

Doctor: The pleasure’s all mine, Mr.Diaz. The groundwork we laid here could help hundreds of other patients in the future. We are making history. Your nurse should be along in a moment to help you get discharged.

[Sean sits in quiet contemplation. Reflecting on his dreams and new “vision”]

Sean (thinking): Be careful what you wish for...

Joey: Looks like everything’s good to go. Remember to use your eye-drops-

Sean: Twice a day. Yeah Joey, I know.

Joey: Guess it’s goodbye again. Don’t be a stranger this time okay?

Sean: I won’t.

Joey: Here’s my number. Call me if ever need professional advice or just want to shoot the shit.

Sean: Thanks Joey. Let me know how everything goes with the baby.

Joey: Oh don’t you worry about that. Soon I’ll be blowing up your phone with pictures.

Sean: Haha can’t wait.

Joey: Now hospital policy says I gotta wheel your ass outta here. For liability reasons.

Sean: At least it’ll be a smoother exit than last time.

Joey: (laughs) Get in the chair smart-ass.

Beaver Creek, One Week Later

Sean: Okay, you ready?

Daniel: (takes deep breath) Alright. Show it to me.

Sean: So… how does it look?

Daniel: Looks… normal.

Sean: You almost sound disappointed. Were you expecting a bionic eye or something?

Daniel: No. I just… it looks good. I like the scar; makes you look extra tough.

Sean: You think so?

Daniel: Yeah… totally badass!

Sean: Thanks, enano.

Daniel: You need a new codename, like Scarred Wolf or Deadshot Diaz!

Sean: Let’s leave the nicknames up to Chris.

Daniel: Hey! I make up awesome names too!

Sean: Whatever you say,“Superwolf”

#life is strange 2 #life is strange #sean diaz #daniel diaz #captain spirit #chris eriksen #stephen reynolds #lis2 #captain spirit ww #joey peterson

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coeurdastronaute · 5 years

Text

Either/Or: WWC

“Jess?”

“Yes, Ms. Luthor?”

Squinting behind her glasses, the CEO peered at her schedule on her computer screen and furrowed as she read, but failed to comprehend the words under the seven o’clock time slot that seemed to take up majority of her evening. There should have been nothing there. She carefully kept track of every second, trusted her secretary to do the same, and suddenly, she had to be somewhere on a night when she could have been home.

Leaning back in her chair, Lena Luthor scrolled and clicked on the offending task highlighted in a deep forest green. National City FC.

National City Fire Council?

National City Financial Committee?

National City Freedom Conference?

“What the hell is National City FC, and why is it taking up 3 hours of my evening?”

“The team you had us buy a few months ago. It’s their home opener.” the secretary explained, filing a few things in the drawer in the closet in Lena’s office.

She didn’t bat an eye at such questions. It was her job to know those things, to take care of things, like when her boss came in with a circled article from her ride into the office, and told Jess to fix it. This somehow included a struggling council measure to bring another sports team to the city and help the underfunded women’s program develop.

There were no follow up questions to how it got done, as Lena was immediately onto the next thing, but for Jess, there were hours spent meeting with officials and the in-house entertainment division to see how accumulating a women’s soccer team would diversify their holdings. This meant weeks pouring over spreadsheets and crunching numbers until the small team that was created for just this singular task, that again, came from a circled three inches of newspaper print, developed a plan to make it a success.

“What did I do?” Lena asked, looking up from her computer as her assistant continued her work of pulling and rearranging to prepare for end of month reports.

“You gave me an article about how the city wanted a team but couldn’t drum up the money to commit, and they were going to lose the bid for an expansion team.”

“That sounds somewhat familiar.”

“You said that expansion and bringing professionals into the city was how we continued to grow.”

“I’m sure I did.”

Quickly, Lena googled the team and found a few headlines praising the companies initiative to help grown equality within the sport, to bring jobs and joy to the community, to expand programs for children and sports, to bring a championship to the city. It was all news to her but still made her smile.

“I put together a team who did everything from polling to scouting locations to permits and projections,” Jess explained as Lena scrolled. “You helped pick out the colors and design the logo.”

“I did?”

“No,” she chuckled. “I did all of that. It’s been my pet project. I played in college, you know.”

The webpage was green, deep and royal. A white logo with the crest of the city and an outline of a roaring bear over it sat in the corner. The banner had the team picture with rows of tough and smiling girls looking back. A schedule followed and links to tickets. It was an actual thing.

“You did all of this?”

“I delegated,” Jess explained, handing over a folder. “Take a look at this so you have your talking points.”

“This got past the board?”

“A bit of community outreach, your name on the field, the logo on the jerseys, community services, tax breaks, and city-wide gratitude. It went a long way, and was a sound investment, set to see returns as early as six years.”

“Are you sure you don’t want that promotion?”

“I’ll just take another raise,” the secretary smiled as her boss looked over the papers in the folder.

“This still doesn’t explain why it’s on my schedule though,” Lena decided, closing it and laying it back on her desk.

“It’s the inaugural game. You have to go show your support.”

“I don’t like sports,” she reminded her. “That’s why I created an entire division of this company to manage such things.”

“You wanted more photo ops, and I’m creating that moment for you.”

Jess was right, which was something Lena still wasn’t particularly fond of admitting. Ever since her brother’s implosion and her ascendence to help the company two years ago, it felt as if her full-time job wasn’t being a CEO but rather a figure head looking to make people believe that she was just as strong, just as capable, just as, if not moreso, credible as the leader of a multi-billion dollar organization.

Lena looked back at the file on her desk and sighed, invariably giving in.

“Fine, but I’m not going to wear a jer--”

Smiling, Jess held up her personal jersey with DANVERS printed in big white letters over the number eleven. She wiggled her eyebrows and tried to hide her amusement.

“It’s to support the team.”

“That’s not even my name.”

“You don’t play for them, just own the team. You don’t get your own name on it.”

“I couldn’t get a custom one? I don’t even know who that is.”

“This is your star player, Kara Danvers. Got her in the expansion draft. She’s amazing. Led the league in scoring the past three years, only been in it for four.”

“This is soccer, right?”

With a heavy sigh, Jess tossed the jersey across the desk.

“Keep reading. I’ll have the car here at six.”

Lena smiled to herself as she held up the jersey, happy to have her name on it anyway with the logo of the rebranded L Corp. She never got used to seeing that, her accomplishments come to fruition. Somehow she accidentally bought a sports team, and though she wasn’t thrilled about having to spend her evening not at home on the couch, she was excited to see what her assistant created, excited to have done something for the city she grew to call home.

Not the biggest sports fan on the planet, Lena looked back at the screen with the team on it and found number eleven and gulped slightly, deciding that sports couldn’t be that bad.

XXXXXXXXX

The music blasted in the headphones, so loudly that nothing else could be heard, not even a thundering heartbeat or heavy breathing. The world and its honks and horns and yelling and voices and city chatter completely disappeared to nothing outside of the stadium, outside of the pitch of fresh grass.

Before the first fan would be welcomed, before they thrust open the grates on the concession stands, before the lights were tested and left on, a single player began her routine, sitting in the stands alone and taking in the world around her, as soon it would be chaos-- screaming people on the sidelines, lines calling changes and plays in the heat of the moment, chirping from those coming to disrupt her home. The soccer player’s head nodded to the beat of the song as she prepared, washing the rest of it away and focusing, centering herself.

The stadium was beginning to breathe again, with works appearing, setting up for the sell-out crowd. By the time the first few teammates began to filter out to warm up, Kara was warming up, making her way from side to side with a light jog, stretching muscles and coming back from her solitary centering.

“Are you getting nervous yet?” Nia asked as she sat on the ground, working hamstrings into something more tenable.

“I’m getting excited,” Kara corrected.

She was a leader on the team, and she took the responsibility very seriously. That included measuring her responses for the younger teammates, making sure that she was always on. It also meant that she played her heart out and left every ounce of energy on the field. She was going to lead the league again. She was going to keep her national team spot. She was going to accomplish great things, just as her parents always told her.

“I’m getting nervous,” her teammate confessed. “Sarah Lance is a terrifying defender. And Foster is a sniper.”

“But you’re Nia Nal,” Kara smiled, helping to pull her goaltender up. She didn’t let her escape though. She held her shoulders in her hands and gave her an intense look. “You are a brick wall. You are unstoppable. You are a fortress. That’s your goal, and no one is going to score today.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do,” the captain disagreed, grinning a little wider now. “Hey, Allen, tell Nal what she is.”

From over her shoulder another teammate immediately chimed in.

“Nia Nal is a force to be reckoned with! She’s not allowing one point this entire year.”

“See that?” Kara grinned, turning back to her goalie. “Everyone already knows it.”

“I know,” Nia nodded, a little less worried and a little more serious.

“Good. Let’s run some drills. I’m no Foster, but I’ll try to make it hard for you.”

Leadership was a role Kara felt both thrust upon her and eager taken up, as if it were second nature. She didn’t think about it, not directly, but often her time was spent planning her moves within the team to make them successful. It showed on the field.

On the pitch though, Kara was completely untouchable. She was focused on her goals and she was ready for anything. She was the captain, the heart, the everything for her team, and she gave her all because for so long it was all she had.

“Danvers, lets go,” the coach’s voice called as the player finished getting ready, completing the final tasks of her routine. “I need you for some press stuff.”

“I thought that was after,” Kara furrowed as she trotted over to Cat Grant as the rest of the team finished up in the locker room.

“Opening day means a lot of parading around,” she explained as they walked through the corridor. “You know this team is precarious at best. We have to do everything we can to appease the money bags.”

“I was going to do some appeasing on the scoreboard. Try to put on a show.”

“If you could do both, I’d appreciate it.”

“You know I can.”

With a comparable grin, Cat nodded and tugged open a door that led to a lobby area, where post game interviews would be held, where the team would meet before the huddle, only this time it was nearly empty save for two women.

“Ms. Luthor,” Cat held out her hand as she approached the striking woman that Kara was stuck staring at. “It’s an honor to have you out here to see our first game.”

“I’ve heard you’ve done amazing things. I’m excited to watch,” she smiled back, clasping Grant’s hand with both of hers.

Dimples were there, right on her cheeks. There was also red lipstick. Cherry red and full on the lips. And her eyes. The green of the jersey was absolutely perfect for making her eyes seem like never-ending forests. Kara cleared her throat when she remembered to swallow and looked away from her face quickly, afraid of gawking too long, though her own cheeks grew a bit warm with the observations. The problem was that looking anywhere else was just as bad. Skin-tight black jeans betrayed hips, and the jersey was enough to not hide her chest, and Kara wanted to pluck out her own eyeballs.

While she introduced her assistant, Kara looked helplessly at the door and shifted on her feet, hoping to avoid the weird feeling in her chest and head.

“This is one of our stars, Kara Danvers. She’ll be doing some press with you after the game, so I thought it’d be better to look as if you’ve met before.”

“Good thinking,” Lena smiled and held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Kara nodded, curt and polite enough, the handshake not lasting very long.

“I will confess I don’t know much about soccer, but I’ve done my research on you,” the money explained. “Jess was telling me how brilliant you are, and I’m excited for you to share your talent with the city.”

“Me? Yes, um. I am as well. Excited. I love this city. My second home it is.”

With a funny look on her face, Lena just nodded and turned back to the coach, her glance following a beat later as Kara looked away, her cheeks full firetrucks.

“I wont interrupt anymore of your prep time,” Lena explained. “Thank you Cat.”

“Enjoy the view from the owner’s box.”

“I get one of those?” Lena asked, her voice going a little low as she asked her assistant.

Kara lingered for a moment as her coach made her way back toward the lock eroom to prepare. She met Lena’s lok and offered another shy smile before hurring to turn around.

“See you later,” she offered and cringed as she turned around.

The entire walk back to the locker room, Kara hung her head, oddly confused about the very short but very weird meeting. She didn’t know what to do or what she had done, just that she had a game to win and now knew that Lena Luthor existed.

XXXXXXXXXXX

“Good evening National City!” the CEO cheered from the edge of the pitch, a giant television of herself played just behind her for everyone to see in the sold out crowd.

The sun was beginning to set behind the city, the stadium sitting on the edge of the water with a view of the skyline and the lake behind it. It was all so new and clean and nice, that Lena took a little bit of pride in the fact hat she had some hand to play in it all even if she wan’t acutely aware of it.

“I am so happy to introduce you to your National City FC!”

The crowd roared again as she smiled into the microphone and surveyed the edge of the field with the waiting players and their tiny equivalents.

“It has been an honor to be part of bringing the next great franchise to our wonderful city, and I know these women are going to make you all so proud!”

The cheering was awfully addicting, and Lena was going to try to figure out how to get twenty thousand people to follow her around and agree with everything she said.

“What do you say we get this inaugural season underway?”

Lena smiled and waved, handing over the microphone to the emcee. The deep voice began to introduce the team as the owner walked off of the field toward her assistant who smiled, much too knowledgeable about the fact that her boss was actually having fun despite her inability to admit it.

“You looked good out there,” Jess nodded as Lena stood beside her, shielding her eyes from the squint of the sun as she looked at her team.

“Sports aren’t that bad,” Lena shrugged.

Despite herself, the CEO found Kara Danvers in the lineup, a little girl standing before her as they did the anthem and introductions. Even though everyone was quiet and preparing for the game, the little girl was antsy. Kara held her hands and lifted her up slightly, swinging her a bit, her shoulders and biceps straining. Lena swallowed as she watched Kara giggle with the little girl, and wondered how someone could exist that was insanely hot and also a big old goober. It didn’t seem fair.

“Let’s get to the box,” Jess offered, interrupting the absolute dehydration Lena was experiencing and hoping to hide. “We can go over some of the basics and I can finish explaining the strategy.”

“I trust your judgement, but I should learn a few things for press. This is going to take a lot more of my face than previous expected, I guess?”

“I was hoping a few showings of your face, and if we win, we’ll solidify the team. National City is lacking a prestigious championship caliber team.”

On the field, Kara hopped slightly before stretching out her legs and getting out the jitters. Hair pulled back tightly, her armband meant she was the captain, and she commanded her team with precision.

“Is this our first championship team?”

“I think so.”

“This is a much more enjoyable investment than all those property deals and some of those research labs I have to hear about.”

“Says the engineer?”

“It pains me to admit it.”

The whistle blew and Kara sprinted out, capturing the ball and immediately making her way toward the other goal. Lena’s heart jumped into her throat at the sheer force and speed of it all before she allowed Jess to tug her back to her box.

“How much do you know about Kara Danvers?” Lena asked, hoping it as subtle enough to be taken as small talk.

“It’s all in the folders.”

The CEO nodded as the elevator ascended, and she didn’t dare to chance a look at her secretary.

XXXXXXXXXX

No matter how many times she played, the adrenaline from a game was still mildly addicting. No matter how many goals she scored, the elation of scoring another was a fix that Kara Danvers chased perpetually. Nothing compared to it.

After the final whistle blew though, after the game ended and there was nothing left to give, she found herself full of these things, and no matter how tired her muscles and body became, the high was slow to come down from. It did make everything happen quicker though, and somehow, not long after winning, and a hat trick under her belt, Kara found herself seated in the media room with the team logo behind her and her new owner beside her.

“You must be fairly happy with the game tonight,” one reporter began, “any worries about the team as a whole that you will be working on this week at practice?”

“We’re always looking to be better, and I can’t say we were flawless, but I’m so excited for where we’re at as a team, that I’m just going to bask for the evening before we get back to work in the morning.”

The group chuckled slightly as the PR director called on the next hand.

“Ms. Luthor, how important was it for this team to get a win tonight? Was it validation for your involvement? Vindication maybe for all the naysayers who were against the expansion?”

“I can honestly say I haven’t paid any attention to anyone who was against this project,” Lena smiled as she earned a laugh from the audience. “It’s important to win as many games as possible for any team, let alone this team. We have a lot to prove as the new kids on the block, but I think Ms. Danvers is right, and we should celebrate and come back ready to continue in the morning.”

For the life of her, Kara wasn’t sure why the mention of her name or the corresponding look from Lena made the tips of her ears burn, but she smiled awkwardly and tried to ignore it.

“Ms. Luthor, what made you invest in this team and this opportunity?”

“The excitement in my advisor’s face when she talked about the team,” the CEO explained, nodding to the woman Kara didn’t remember officially meeting. “I can’t take credit for doing much more except being completely taken with Kara.”

The player snapped to look at the CEO for the pause that seemed to last much too long.

“Wait,” Lena shook her head and laughed. “Kara and her team. The sport really. The little girls that come out with the team. My advisor was one of those little girls, and she is now one of the most admirable and driven people I have ever met. If a team like this can give her joy and hope, imagine what it can do for all of the other little girls.”

“How does it feel to have the most powerful woman in the world behind you, Kara?”

“I’m quite taken by it,” she offered humbly with a smile, earning a laugh from the group and Lena in particular. “To be honest though, it is a truly empowering fact. To have someone with such kindness and tenacity as an example, it’s amazing.”

The pair shared a smile, and Kara looked back at the crowd, preparing for the next question.

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king-finnigan · 4 years

Note

17. War au and 60. Poor timed confession, geraskier.

*bill wurtz voice* it’s time for world war 1!

***

There aren’t many upsides to being stuck in the trenches on the front line of a great war (so great it’ll end all wars, people keep saying), but at least Jaskier gets to spend more time with his childhood friend, Geralt.

They had drifted apart after graduating at age 18. Jaskier had gone to college to study English Literature, and Geralt had started working on his dad’s horse farm in the countryside. They had still occasionally sent each other letters during the years they spent apart, but they had become scarcer and scarcer, until Jaskier recieved the last letter, about two years ago.

They hadn’t spoken to each other since, each keeping their head low, working as hard as possible in the face of the growing conflicts in mainland Europe. Then, about a year ago, the war had officially started.

Jaskier had hesitated to sign up to be drafted, at first, but he was an able-bodied young man, and who was he to refuse to serve his country? So, a month after England had declared war, he had gone to downtown Oxford to enlist.

It was then that, by some lucky coincidence, or by the hand of Destiny herself, he had seen Geralt again, for the first time in years. He’s still not sure how Geralt had ended up in Oxford to enlist, seeing as his dad’s horse farm was closer to London, after all. But still, he shouldn’t look a gifted horse in the mouth and all that.

And that’s how they had ended up here and now. After a rigorous training in England, they had been sent off to Belgium, to serve their country by...

Sitting in a bunch of muddy trenches.

This really isn’t what he expected of the front line, honestly, after all the terrible, scary stories the drill sergeants had told them during training. This is almost... quiet even. Boring.

He’s been here for about a month now, and nothing has happened so far. Of course, he shouldn’t complain - it’s not like he wants to die a gruesome death, but there’s only so much you can do in the trenches until you run out of things to do, stuff to talk about.

Of course, not with Geralt. He could never grow tired of talking with Geralt. Though, to be fair, he’s the one that does most of the talking, really. His friend has never exactly been the talkative type, but he’s never minded that.

He sighs, leaning his head back against the dirt of the trench wall as he sits in the mud. It’s autumn, and it’s been raining quite a bit, so he’s used to the mud by now.

Today, though, the sun is shining, bright in the blue sky above him. He wonders what he’ll see if he were to look over the edge, wonders what No Man’s Land looks like today, but he decides against it - he doesn’t want to get shot in the head by the enemy soldiers in the trenches on the other side, after all.

He looks to his side as Geralt sits next to him. “It’s sunny.” A pretty obvious statement, but after all these years of being Geralt’s friend, Jaskier knows the other man is trying to start a conversation - supplying him with something to talk about.

“That it is, my friend.” He sighs. “Remember when we were fifteen, and we went to the lake after it had rained?”

Geralt nods. “I remember.”

It had been an autumn day just like this, a sunny saturday afternoon after it had rained all morning. Jaskier had knocked on Geralt’s door, and together they had gone to the lake to do their homework together. He remembers sitting cross-legged opposite Geralt in the wet grass, knees touching, not caring about the stains in his trousers his mum would definitely scold him for later.

Really, when he’s with Geralt, he can’t care less about anything or anyone else in the world, except for the two of them.

He remembers how close they had been, he remembers the way the sunlight had danced on Geralt’s perpetually silver locks - something he had inherited from his father. He remembers the way butterflies had fluttered in the pit of his stomach, he remembers the way he had wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss the other boy.

And he remembers the guilt that had flared up in his chest when he realized what he’d been thinking, the shame that had made heat rise to his cheeks.

He shouldn’t think like that. It’s not right, kissing boys.

And even if it was, Geralt doesn’t feel the same way, anyways. Never has, never will.

They sit in silence now, lost in the memories of that one saturday afternoon.

Jaskier sighs. “It’s quiet out there.”

“It always is.”

He snorts. “Yeah. Quite a contrast with the horror stories they told us back home, isn’t it?”

“Hmm.” Geralt seems distracted, some sense of nostalgia in his amber eyes, and Jaskier supposes he’s still thinking about that saturday afternoon when they were fifteen, or maybe he’s thinking about home.

He cocks his head as a question presents itself to him - finally something they haven’t talked about yet, even though he’s heard plenty of other soldiers talking about it.

“So, Geralt, have you got a girl at home?”

“Hmm?” His friend looks up, pulled out of his musings, and Jaskier raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “Oh. No, too busy for that on the farm. You?”

“Nah, haven’t gotten around to that yet.”

“Why not?” There is no judgement in Geralt’s voice, only curiosity, and Jaskier shrugs.

“Just...” he shrugs again “haven’t gotten around to that,” he repeats.

It’s then that he hears shouting nearby, and he perks up, grabbing his gun from where it had been standing against the dirt wall next to him.

Things move quickly after that.

He’s barely clambered to his feet when an explosion shakes the ground, the screaming of his fellow soldiers filling his ears, and he leans one hand against the side of the trench in an effort to remain upright.

More shouting fills his ears as he sees one of his comrades, Istredd, loading up the machine gun, starting to fire into No Man’s Land.

“What’s going on?” he shouts at Istredd, who simply shakes his head, the white of his eyes clearly visible around his brown irises.

“The Germans, they’re trying to cross No Man’s Land!” Istredd shouts back, before turning back to the gun, jaw clenched in concentration as he shoots.

“Right,” Jaskier mumbles, “right.” He’s been trained for this, he should be able to handle it, but the fear is gripping at him, numbing his limbs, rendering him unable to move, even as another shell explodes, closer this time.

He stumbles a bit as Geralt pushes him, his own rifle clutched in one hand. “Come on, Jaskier! Let’s go, we need to get out of here!”

He nods, feet stammering as he starts walking. Another grenade explodes, this time about ten yards away from him, and he’s thrown on the ground, his upper arm alight with pain.

He groans, sitting up, pushing away the fabric of his jacket to reveal a cut underneath. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of blood, hands trembling.

“Hey.” He looks up at Geralt’s soft voice, as his friend crouches over him, the left side of his face slightly bloody and scraped, covered in mud. “Let me see.” He softly pushes Jaskier’s hands away, tearing open the fabric of his jacket to get a better look at the wound.

“It’s just a flesh wound, it’s very superficial. You probably got hit by a piece of the shell. It’s gonna be okay, you’re okay.”

Another shell explodes nearby, and he cringes away from the noise, ears ringing. It’s now or never, he suddenly thinks, a weird sense of bravery washing over him.

“Geralt?” His friend looks up from his wound, amber eyes concerned. Now or never, Jaskier. “I love you.”

Geralt huffs, eyes incredulous, and Jaskier gets a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Of course his friend doesn’t feel the same. Not only that, but Geralt will report him, like every good soldier should, and Jaskier will get fired without honour, at best.

“Jaskier,” his friend sighs, “you could not have chosen a worse time to tell me that.”

“What?” he manages to choke out, as Geralt looks around them. There’s no one in sight, Jaskier realizes.

Suddenly, two large hands cradle his face, Geralt’s lips pressing against his own, and he’s floating and falling at the same time, breath stolen out of his lungs.

Then, the moment is over, just like that, and Geralt stands up, pulling Jaskier to his feet. “Come on,” his friend- his love says, taking his hand, pulling him into the direction of gunfire, “let’s end this war so we can go home. Together.”

***

Send me two prompts from this list and I’ll write a short drabble for them!

#squish answers #aj-that-person #ask game #geraskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #im physically unable to write something short #drabble #look i mostly did ww1 bc i know most about that one #also i live in belgium so hell yeah cameo of my country #also hi istredd

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holyhellpod · 3 years

Text

[TRANSCRIPT] 1. Pilot

Apple Podcasts | Google Podcasts | Spotify | Instagram | Patreon

Trigger warnings: discussions of death, fridging, child abuse, child death, alcoholism

[Music]

“In one sentence, this is X-Files meets Route 66. Two brothers, cruising the dusty backroads in their trusty ‘64 mustang, battling the things that go bump in the night.”

These are the first two sentences of Eric Kripke’s pitch of Supernatural, dated August 30, 2004. Based on iconic media such as Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, On The Road, The Odyssey, and The Matrix, Kripke considers Supernatural to be Star Wars in Truck Stop America. He went through over two dozen rewrites of the pilot to get to what we know today: grimy, gritty, horror-filled hero’s journey of the lives of two extremely damaged individuals who don’t really like each other personally or have anything in common, but love each other to death. They save people. They hunt monsters. That’s the family business.

The original pitch for the pilot had Dean informing Sam that supernatural creatures are real and they killed their mum. Sam spent his whole 21-year-long life believing that their father killed their mother, and now their father’s body has been found with Dean as the lead suspect in the murder. Sam has to make the choice to run back to their aunt and uncle’s house in LA where he can spend the summer interning at a law firm before he starts at Stanford, or help Dean fight monsters, and you KNOW which one he chooses.

In the pilot that aired, Sam knows about the supernatural. He and Dean grow up trained as warriors by their father John to hunt supernatural creatures, kill evil, and save people. The plot goes as thus: Sam, a 6 month old baby, is in his crib when an unknown man appears. Mary, Sam and Dean’s mother, walks in. John, their father, comes in as well to see what’s wrong, and finds Mary pinned to the ceiling with a slash across her womb. The house catches on fire, Dean as a four year old takes Sam out of the house, and John follows soon after.

Cut to 22 years later, Sam is a college student at Stanford with a beautiful girlfriend Jess whose resemblance to his mother is, ah, uncanny. He reveals that he’s got an interview on Monday with the law school at Stanford. His idyllic, apple-pie, safe life is interrupted by the appearance of Dean, who asks Sam to accompany him in finding their Dad. That’s the premise of the first season: finding Dad.

Sam makes a deal with Dean that he’ll help on this one last case before he embarks on his life as a lawyer-to-be. Dean takes the deal, but when they realise that John left the case unfinished and skipped town, it’s up to them to follow in John’s footsteps and pick up hunting again, as a fambily. However, Sam reiterates that he needs to be back at Stanford for his meeting that will determine his future, and Dean drops him back. But of course, this is not to be. When he finds Jess pinned to the roof of their bedroom, her womb slashed open, and the apartment starts to burn down, Sam is forced into repeating the history of intergenerational trauma that traps them in the hunting life. The trauma their father inflicted on them is a Promethean circle that leaves no one unscathed.

John is a hard man. While it’s evident in the first scene that he loves his boys, his grief coupled with his military history twists him into a drill sergeant who works his kids to the bone all in the name of the fambily business. He often puts his own needs above that of his kids, especially Dean, who often acts as the go-between Sam and John. From the very beginning, Sam is positioned as John’s mirror, pulled back into the hunting life when his girlfriend dies just like his mother. Both John and Sam have their lives upended by the death of their significant other, except for Sam, he has Dean, and John had his sons. Bringing them into the life meant leaning on them when he couldn’t handle his grief and the exhaustion of the job himself, but this is a caustic dynamic: your children are not your partners. Dean should not have gone on a hunt by himself at 17 to lay to rest the ghosts of two closeted nuns, when he was closeted himself. John should not have put the burden on Dean to look after his brother while John was away on hunts, because Dean was a child. It robbed Dean of his childhood, forced him to grow up too quickly, and left him with a saviour complex and control issues that he carries well into the last season of the show.

The abuse Sam and Dean suffer at the hands of their father is something that permeates the entire show, all the while the characters apologise for him and little commentary is made on how badly he messed them up. In the pilot, We don’t see him in the present, only in 1983, and then sporadically throughout the rest of the show, notably in seasons one, two, four and five, as well as in the show’s 300th episode “Lebanon”. He is a ghost that controls the fate of these two men, as he directs them where to hunt while at the same time refusing to even show his face in times of dire need. In the episode “Faith”, Dean is dying and John doesn’t make an appearance. In the episode “Home”, Dean calls John scared and crying and begs him to come back to their childhood home of Lawrence, Kansas. Again, John doesn’t show up for them.

There are many moments throughout the show that seem to hinge on one decision, and John’s decision to become a hunter and raise his kids as hunters too is one of them. Another decision is Dean’s choice to die in the last episode. Cas’s choice to partner with Crowley and suck all of purgatory’s souls into himself in season 6. Sam’s choice to settle down with Amelia in season 8.

But it all comes back to the very first decision: Sam deciding to go with Dean to find John. We know now that the demons Azazel and Brady were just waiting for the opportunity to kill Jess when Sam was at his most oblivious and unguarded, which they took after Dean re-entered his life. the repercussions of this reverberate throughout the entire show, most obviously in Sam choosing not to settle down with a woman for the first 7 seasons. But Jessica’s death is the impetus Sam needs to start hunting again, just like Mary’s death was the impetus John had for starting to hunt in the first place.

But actually, with the last episode of the series in mind, another choice is made clear. Dean’s choice to go to Sam.

If the first season would have you believe, Sam Winchester is the protagonist of the series, and Dean is his second in command. He’s one of five main characters throughout season 1, including Dean, John, Mary and Azazel the demon. Azazel begins the narrative by invading Sam’s childhood bedroom and killing Mary, but after the ordinary world of their lives before we hit the call to adventure, Sam is shown as an ordinary guy who just wants to make something of himself. He admits to Dean in some truly spectacular exposition that he swore he was done hunting for good, and that he’s put that life behind him to live safely with his girlfriend and college friends. Of course, being Supernatural, it doesn’t turn out like that.

If you take the last few seasons as gospel, it’s clear that Dean is the emotional heart of the series and Sam exists as his narrative foil. Somewhere along the way their roles got reversed. It’s Sam’s emotional journey we follow throughout the first season. It takes us until episode 4, “Phantom Traveler”, to find something that Dean is afraid of. As the season wears on, it becomes increasingly clear that all he wants is to have his family back together — Sam and Dad, all under one car or motel roof again. Sam, in the Winchester tradition, wants to find Jess’s killer, suspecting that the thing that killed Mary is the same thing that killed Jess. This obsession drives him throughout the first two seasons.

Sam’s motivation in the pilot is laid out clearly: he has to make it back to Stanford on time for his interview for law school. While it’s normal for regular people, it's about as far from the Winchester normal as can be, and that’s what Sam likes about it. It’s normal, it’s wonderbread, it’s safe. It’s freshly baked cookies and a tab at the only bar on campus. It’s your girlfriend in a maid outfit on Halloween, which you still don’t celebrate because it reminds you of what you gave up to be there. It’s getting a 174 on the LSATs but not telling your family because you don’t talk to them anymore, and you haven’t for years. It’s fine.

And then it all comes crashing down, and Sam’s motivation changes. He’s the hero accepting his journey while grieving the loss of the most significant person in his life since he ditched his family at 18 to live in the world instead of saving it from the sidelines. He’s the one our story hinges on, and it’s his reactions we live and die by. When Mary dies, we hardly know her. We don’t know John, either, so it’s hard to gauge how broken up we should be by her death. While I wouldn’t say we know Jess necessarily, we do know Sam, so when he grieves we grieve. The framework through which we view all of these events is Sam’s perspective, even if we do see Dean without Sam. I’m pointing this out because it’s important to know who we sympathise with most, and whose story a narrative is trying to tell. What exactly the narrative is saying is completely dependent on who is saying it.

One of Dean’s defining traits is that he’s great at getting laid. In the original pitch, Dean was supposed to be covered in tattoos and smoking like a James Dean-type. Nevermind that James Dean was queer, as is Dean from On The Road, the character the eldest winchester is named after. Dean chases tail like he’s a dog chasing bumpers, and he’s attractive and charismatic so it works out well for him. He doesn’t take it hard when a woman rejects him, which is something that a lot of men need to learn.

Sera Gamble, staff writer, executive producer, and showrunner of seasons 6 and 7, said about Dean:

“Dean always has a great comeback line, so it’s always fun to write him. Dean’s introduction to us in the pilot was him hitting on his brother’s girlfriend, specifically pointing out her boobs.”

But this is not all Dean is. He’s first and foremost Sam’s protector. In Dean’s second scene of the pilot, Dean is shown to rescue his brother from their house as it burns down, carrying him out of harm’s way. Dean, as the older brother, knows it’s his job to protect his younger sibling. It’s been drilled into him since he was four years old that he is supposed to protect Sam above everything, even when Sam ditched their family. Before the pilot, Dean and Sam hadn’t spoken in two years, and Sam hadn’t seen John in four. But by the end of the episode we realise that Dean hasn’t given up the mantle of protector. He rescues Sam from the building where Jess is being burned alive. First and foremost, Dean will always protect Sam.

At 26, Dean has seen things and done things that no one should see or do. Where Sam is sullen and quiet, Dean is loud and brash, getting into trouble, jumping headfirst into situations he shouldn’t be in. The situations he shouldn’t be in include: a crime scene, a river, a motel room, a haunted shack. Places he should be include the police station, because Dean winchester is many things and one of them is a felon.

We can’t find ourselves sympathising too much with Dean as a main character just yet because we don’t have any attachment to his weaknesses. Yes, Mary died, but she is such a non-character it doesn’t register (unless of course you’ve been through a similar tragedy, then sympathise away). Yes, he loves his car and his guns and his leather jacket, but we find out later that they are handmedowns from John. Dean’s personality is a carefully curated list of acceptable likes and dislikes, inherited from the abusive, alcoholic father John is to him and the woman, wife and mother he thinks of Mary as. In the pilot, Dean is the lovable scamp, but his desperation is lying in wait beneath the mask of finding his father. He wants his fambily back, but more than that, he wants his fambily safe.

We see Sam and Dean’s strengths play out through the episode. In their first encounter with the Woman in White, she possesses the Impala and drives it towards them. They both jump off the bridge, but while Sam clings on, Dean hurls himself into the river. Thus the death-defying stunt ends up a funny gag as Dean drags himself out of the muck, and Sam is positioned as the smarter brother. I mean, he got into Stanford, right? so he’s smarter, right???

Another moment establishes the bulk of their characters in two lines. Sam says, “What I said earlier, about Mum and Dad, I’m sorry,” and Dean replies, “No chick-flick moments.” Within this simple exchange lies the heart of their differences: Sam wants Dean to be okay. Dean would rather push Sam away than offer up his feelings like a charcuterie platter for anyone to pick apart.

From what we know of John, he is a man obsessed. Sam reveals that their whole lives have been based around trying to find the thing that killed Mary. John trained his sons to be hunters from an indeterminately young age, after finding out about the supernatural from various side characters and piecing the rest together himself. From how the other hunters talk about John, he is a master in skill and execution, and Dean and Sam take after him. Sam is smart and coordinated enough to be good at everything, and Dean is naturally gifted in intellect, tactical skill, and weapons. Together they make a formidable team. By the time the show really gets going, John, Sam and Dean are legends in the hunting community. Dean comments in a later episode that he’s famous, and other characters point out the same thing. Characters introduced later know who they are before the boys know who the other characters are and what their connection to John is.

The implications of John raising his sons are hunters are multitudinal. Because Sam and Dean have been raised this way, they have saved a lot of people that otherwise would have died. But it’s at their own expense. They can never live normal lives, and even when they settle down in season 8 at the Men of Letters bunker, the echoes of their loneliness and isolation are still present. That’s why it’s not enough to focus only on Sam and Dean, or introduce more characters just to kill them off, because the brothers are fundamentally lonely and isolated. And the point of any story is to have your characters progress (although in the case of a short story, it’s to reveal something about a character), so when they start out a certain way they need to have outgrown that stasis that they were trapped in by the end of the series. Sam deserved to build a life for himself in the hunting world, with another hunter and/or the queen of hell, making connections and a home for other hunters to stay in and, as one tumblr user says, a monster rehabilitation centre. Dean deserved to outgrow his trauma and simply grow as a character instead of being stuck as an depressed alcoholic with anger issues.

On the surface of the show, Dean is supposed to be Han Solo and Sam Luke Skywalker. But the first thing we learn about Sam to do with his family is that he left them as soon as he finished high school and had a chance to escape. Dean, however, stayed loyal to John and continued hunting. This dynamic of Sam rebelling against the the God figure of their father and Dean’s dependency on their father’s approval continues into the fifth season and parallels the storyline of the angel Lucifer rebelling and his brother Michael staying loyal to God. It certainly is an interesting dynamic, which I just realising as I type this paragraph was repeated in my own family. Me, the youngest rebelling against my abusive father around the time I started watching this show while my older brother continued to live with him, in squalor and destitution. There were no Gardens of Eden in our family, only a hell of our father’s making. My dad loves muscle cars and heavy metal, too, and I haven’t spoken to him in three years.

The motel room they find John occupying before he takes off is something you’d see in a serial killer’s lair. There are articles printed out and stuck to the wall, a line of salt encircling the room, various talismans and charms, and information on the woman in white. From what we see, John lives up to his legendary status, putting together a pattern of strange deaths and disappearances over the course of 20 years for his sons to eventually solve. But we already know by now that he puts hunting above his own children, and it becomes clear as the episode goes on that he is sending them out on hunts that he himself either can’t or won’t finish. He disappears and leads them on a proverbial and literal ghost hunt as they chase him across the country.

The universe of Supernatural started with monsters but encompasses a lot more than that. Kripke’s vision, which personally I think he executed really well, was small town Americana meets monster of the week. It’s ghosts on highways, cannibals in forests, and spirits in lakes. It’s a possessed car on a bridge aiming straight for our protagonists. It’s gas station junk food and driving 16 hours across multiple states on a hunch. It’s sleeping in your car and brushing your teeth at the side of the road because you couldn’t afford a hotel for the night. It’s grit meets slime. It’s real and fantastical at the same time. When I say this show activates the part of my mind that lives for road trips across a barren country through miles and miles of desert, I’m not lying. I used to love road trips as a kid, just staring out the window with my gameboy in my hand and Alanis Morisette’s Jagged Little Pill album in my discman. I long for those days.

The lore is one of the most interesting things about the show. in most episodes, the characters are seen to flick through physical books to gather information about what they’re fighting, which seems to take hours if not days. At one point I’m pretty sure that their father figure Bobby digitises his library, but then that’s never brought up again, so maybe I imagined it. There are hundreds of different creatures throughout the seasons, including some the show made up (Jefferson Starships in season 6), others they’ve taken from folklore and legends and put their own spin on. The interesting ways they present creatures, some pure evil, others sympathetic, is one of the reasons I loved this show from the beginning. All I ever wanted to write was urban fantasy, and this show presented it in an accessible way. I grew up in small towns with populations of less than a thousand people, so watching the characters go through small towns, back roads, truck stops and service stations in the middle of nowhere just hit me right where it hurts.

The lore of the woman in white is thus: a husband cheats on his wife, and the wife, in a moment of insanity, murders her children. When she comes back as a vengeful spirit, she finds men who have been unfaithful and murders them. The character of Constance hitch hikes along the road waiting for men to pick her up, and even if they haven’t been unfaithful she seduces them before she kills them. Spirits are shown to have special powers: they can move objects, wield weapons, and kill with their hands or minds. They can also appear and disappear at will, making them hard to fight.

As with all episodes of tv shows, the problem they face is something out of the ordinary. The Woman in White is a ghost, something they’ve hunted before with ease. Sidenote: this show can be summed up as Pru from Ride or Die podcast says, “the Winchester school of boys who fight ghosts real good.” While a normal ghost would be taken out by salting and burning their bones, laying Constant Welch to rest isn’t that easy. Before they can find her bones to burn, she appears in the Impala while Sam is driving. But Sam figures out a plan: drive the Impala through the house she can’t go home to where her children are lying in wait to drag her into the underworld. And the monsters only get more interesting from there.

Now that the show has finished, it's interesting to examine what it could have been. We know what it is: a 15 year long experiment in family dysfunction and queerbaiting. We know it’s about choices and free will. But what could it have been? It could have been more than family dysfunction. Throughout the entire show, the premise has always been about two brothers, and that’s to its detriment, as there’s only so many times they can rehash the premise of brothers betraying each other. The showrunners were so bent on keeping the show about Sam and Dean that they neglected the other storylines that could have proved more interesting and killed off all the characters that were a threat to their dynamic. It could have been about characters becoming their own creators in stepping outside the narrative, usurping their writers and choosing love instead of violence. It could have stayed about found families, instead of focusing solely on Sam and Dean in the last episode, which undid all of the groundwork they’d laid out in the last 7 or so seasons.

But what we have is what we get, and while the show falls down in some respects, especially with regards to its treatment of people of colour and the queer community, it is still a show that I’ve loved since the Howard administration, and something that has changed and improved my life in numerous ways. If I hadn’t started writing Supernatural fanfiction, I wouldn’t have majored in writing, and I wouldn’t have the experience to write four books and some novel length fanfiction. Supernatural has inspired me so much over the years, and I will always considered it kismet that it entered my life. I know others feel the same, and you only have to step into the fandom for a day to realise the impact that Supernatural has on people all over the world. Few shows have had both the gall and opportunity to shape television in the way that Supernatural has and do the things that it has done. Falling in love with it again at a time when I was outgrowing a previous hyperfixation, feeling lost and adrift, and burnt out from writing 150,000 words in the middle of a pandemic, has been extremely serendipitous, and I can’t wait to dissect every single thing about this show.

You can find the show at holyhellpod on Instagram and tumblr, and patreon dot com slash holyhellpod. I’ll talk to you soon.

[Outro music]

#holyhellpod #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #<25 mins #transcripts

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dibidibifiction · 4 years

Text

Criminal In My Mind: Chapter 4

Warning: foul language

Pairing: Choi Minho x Reader Word count: 1.6k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction made for personal entertainment of readers. The writer does not ever intend to offend her readers nor does she aim to spread false information about anyone as to pay any disrespect to the real-life persons whom the characters are based on. She also does not claim ownership to any of the images that are being used.

masterlist Chapter 3

MINHO

I tend to check up on Taemin every time I see him on campus ever since he got beaten up a week ago. So far, nobody has been following him anymore. My shift at the café has just ended and now, I’m cleaning myself up a little bit for our Landscape Photography class at three, which is in twenty minutes.

So I hurry up, grab my backpack, bow to Manager Jinki goodbye, and head out the glass doors.

I’ve been studying at this school for over a year now and no one has attempted to befriend me but Taemin. He’s the only one who bothers to ask me to hang out with him and his friends, yet I always ignored him. This may sound cheesy but I kind of appreciate him that way. I don’t know why I’m just realizing this now.

I’m just walking to class when suddenly, I feel a cold breeze touch my skin, chills down my spine follows. A man from afar reveals himself right before my eyes, wearing the hood of his jacket over his head.

I stop abruptly. Why is he staring at me? I’m starting to sweat and my heart decides to beat faster than it should, as if telling me to panic.

I attempt to run the other way but I bump into Taemin. He seems frightened. Was he walking behind me all this time?

“Minho Hyung,” his eyes widen. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” I lie.

“Let’s go to class together.”

I fake a smile and glance back at the spot where I saw the familiar presence, but he’s gone.

. . .

I managed to come through during class since I have a growing passion for photography. It kind of distracted me from what I encountered earlier.

What I love most about photography is that it’s instantly still with just a click of a button on the camera. You can edit things the way you want it and create something else out of them. But something about its steadiness gets to me and calms me down. I hadn’t known that I had this love for it until I finished high school since I lived my life unhappy and meaningless. I always thought it was too late to find my passion but if it wasn’t for my mother, I’d be wanting to kill myself today.

Now that class is over, I’m back to my fear. I swear I saw him die. Was that really him? How did he find me? How long has he been following me?

I step out of the building when Taemin calls out to me, running.

“Hyung!” He catches up. “Do you have class after this?”

“Yeah, Art History in about half an hour,” I answer him, trying to hide my sinking soul at the moment.

“Oh, okay. Do you have some time later to work on our assignment? I picked you as my partner,” he informs me, smiling.

I stare at him blankly. I must have missed something since I have no idea what he’s talking about. My thoughts are running in circles right now.

“Hyung?”

“Oh,” I come to my senses. “Yes, sure. Come by my apartment tonight at eight. I’ll text you the address.”

“Great. I’ll buy us dinner,” he says, then runs towards his friends gathered around by the grass.

. . .

It’s all coming back to me at the same time. The huge dark room full of barrels, the echoing cries, all the drilling, guns firing.

And the girl. I don’t remember her face, but what I do remember is her eyes. Her wide brown eyes always twinkled with tears. Her left iris had a distinct but subtle little white spot. I tried to look for her days after I lost her that night but she’s nowhere to be found. I just hope she’s alive and well to this day. It's a shame I didn’t get her name.

I jump awake from my deep thoughts when something thuds to the floor. It’s a book that was in Taemin’s hands. He's already fallen asleep on the couch.

I turn to my wall clock and it’s already one in the morning. How long have we been working?

I decided to go out and buy drinks from the convenience store nearby. When I’m about to reach for my jacket on the armrest, Taemin shakes awake.

“What time is it?” he asks as he yawns, wiping drool off his chin.

“Ten past one. I’m going to the store. Do you want anything?”

“I’ll go with you. I don’t know what I want but I’m kinda hungry,” he says as he gets up and puts on his college hoodie.

So we go down from the apartment and walk to the nearest little grocery store which is just two minutes away.

“How long have you known Y/n?” I ask Taemin, hoping to sound casual.

“She started working at my dad’s flower shop about three years ago. I was still in high school then and she was about to graduate college. My dad and I never met anyone before who is as passionate about flowers as she is. She reminds me a lot of my mom. The shop was originally hers, but then she died of ovarian cancer when I was eleven.”

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry,” I sympathize.

“It’s okay. We’re lucky to have found Y/n Noona. Aside from handling the shop for us, she has been the big sister I never ha- Holy shit, speak of the devil!” His jaw drops as soon as he sees something ahead.

I follow his eye direction and to my surprise, there is Y/n walking wobbly toward our way, the high heels of her shoes almost twist her ankles. Is she drunk? Where did she come from? And why is she alone at this hour?

Taemin runs to her and grabs her when she almost falls forward. “Noona, you’re drunk again. Are you with someone?” he says, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, there’s my little Taemin!” she shouts despite their close distance. “When did you get so strong and handsome and all grown up?”

Taemin can’t contain his laughter now. He looks my way and mouths, Watch this. “Noona, wanna come home with me?” he says to her with a matching wink.

“Fuck no! Are you out of your mind?” She pulls him away. “I’m saving myself for someone special now. Someone worth my time. Do you have any idea how many guys I’ve dated? None of them came through for me and I’m sick of it! None of them even cared about how I felt,” she starts weeping.

I can’t help but chortle at the cute sound of her cry.

Taemin frowns. “That’s weird, she usually answers that question differently.”

“Hey, Y/n!” a charming guy with short-to-the-roots bleach blonde hair rushes toward her and hits her at the back of the head. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You got me fucking worried!” He looks out of breath.

“Kibum Hyung!” Taemin exclaims. They all seem to know each other. We’re currently in my neighborhood but I feel like the outsider.

Y/n flinches as she scratches her head at the spot where she got hit.

“Are you okay?” I ask her in concern.

She catches my eye and giggles. She slowly draws nearer toward me, then wraps her tiny arms around my neck so she can stand straight.

“I might be dreaming but I think I finally found you,” she whispers as her face gets an inch closer to mine.

I swallow as my heart begins to skip a beat. I’d stare back into her eyes but they’re almost shut. Something about her scent mixed in with soju is pleasurably intoxicating.

Before I know it, she leans in and softly touches her lips onto mine. Without a thought, I’m kissing her back after two seconds when she starts to open her mouth slightly as her tongue reaches out to mine. I suddenly feel goosebumps throughout my arms. My knees weaken and sweat starts to form on my scalp. My hands turn into fists for getting this urge to hold onto her waist but, for some reason, I can’t. I'm frozen.

At some point, she falls sideways to the ground but I come to my senses and somehow catch her.

I did not expect this at all.

. . .

I went to work at six this morning to open the café for the day. I usually almost never have a smile on my face when I wake up because I don’t really like waking up so early. But today, I can’t help but find myself jumpy and smiley.

It is now half-past nine and customers have come in and left, minding their own perspective moments under the sun.

The chime of the entrance catches my attention as I watch Kibum walk in. Even though he is still in his home wear and hungover, he still manages to look good. Maybe he has a natural talent for staying a gorgeous man no matter what state he’s in. With his gray shorts, plain white hoodie, and a pair of gold aviator glasses.

He approaches the counter and sees me, “Oh, hey, it’s you. I didn’t know you work here.”

“Yeah, I do. I just started last week,” I smile back. “So what can I get you?”

“Hot low-fat latté and iced black coffee. Y/n’s coming in later. She’s still in bed moaning like a grandma,” he chuckles.

“Oh, right,” I nod. “How is she doing?”

“She’ll be fine. She’s always been like that when she drinks too much.”

“Good to know,” I am relieved to know. “Go on, have a seat and I’ll get your drinks ready.”

Chapter 5

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ddaengyoonmin · 5 years

Text

BTS Friends to Lovers Series (Taehyung)

Pairing: Police officer!Taehyung x Badgirl/Stoner!reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, small attempts for humor

Warnings: some slightly dark themes, drug dealer!Jungkook, swearing, lots of weed references, deep throating, cum swallowing, dom!Tae, face slapping with hands and with his cock (cleanse my souuul oops) assault on a cop, some abuse of power from a Pervy older cop. Getting arrested. (I think that’s all let me know if I missed any)

A/N: while this is a reader insert I put a lot of my own personal experience and life into this piece. It was also partially based on a dream I had about getting arrested by taehyung

Word count: 6k

Songs to listen to: ‘Free spirit’ - Manila Grey ‘Parking lot’ - Manila Grey ‘Play with Fire’ - Sam Tinnesz

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell my mom and dad about this. You know they’ll just go right to your parents about it. As long as it’s the last time this happens... right?” Taehyung turned around and cocked an eyebrow at you from the driver’s seat.

You let out a groan and rolled your eyes. “Sure Tae, of course it’s the last time” you spoke with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

“I mean it y/n, you’re lucky it was me that got to you and not one of the other guys. You’d be down at the station right now instead of sitting in my car with a milkshake” He scolded

You took a big sip on the straw of your milkshake “Yeah thanks for this by the way, I was really getting the munchies” You joked

Taehyung let out a loud sigh, taking off his police issued hat and running his fingers through his shaggy brown hair annoyed. Then holding up the plastic bag that had the remaining weed that you hadn’t smoked yet in it. “I’m keeping this you know that right?”

You shrugged “What for? are you gonna start smoking again Mr. Do-good?” you teased him.

“y/n…” he spoke sternly. “Damnit, you’re so lucky we are friends. I don’t think you realize how many times I’ve saved your ass from doing actual time over this stuff”

“It should be legal anyways and you know it. Besides...I knew a time when you would’ve been right there with me” you said matter of factly.

“Well that was a long time ago y/n. We were kids, now we are adults. Well...I am at least” he shot you a joking glare and you pretended you didn’t see him and just took another long sip on your milkshake.

“I’m taking you home now” he sighed and drove out of the parking lot the two of you had been sitting in.

You had known Taehyung since the two of you were practically babies, he was a year older than you but the two of you had been best friends since as long as you can remember.

Your mom and his mom were best friends at college and were each other's maid of honor for their weddings. Your families were tied together like an unbreakable knot, dinners together at least twice a month and unscheduled random hangouts were just part of your life, and with it, Taehyung.

You were there when he had his first kiss at the middle school dance, you comforted him after his first break-up with said girl that he had his first kiss with. You both drank your first beer together, and smoked your first joint together. Everything that you did, you had done with Taehyung. Until he graduated highschool a few years ago, and had the grand idea that he wanted to become a police officer. That decision put quite a damper on the shenanigans you were used to getting into with him, and you’d felt yourself grow slightly more distant from him as a result.

But, he still looked out for you. Times like today you were kind of grateful he had joined the police force, because he was right, if anyone else had caught you smoking a joint with a few extra grams to spare on you, sitting inside a big yellow slide on a playground thinking that no one would notice (Spoiler, they did…) They wouldn’t have just scolded you and then bought you a strawberry milkshake.

Taehyung pulled up to your house and walked around to open the back door of the police cruiser for you.

“Stay out of trouble y/n. There's only so many get out of jail free cards I can offer before someone notices you know.” he pulls you into a quick hug

You snuggle your head into his chest for the quick moment, that he hugged you.

“Ah, Don’t make me smell” he quickly grabs your shoulders putting you arm's length from him with his nose scrunched, a disgusted look on his face.

“Don’t act like you don’t miss that smell” you winked at him as you walked the cement path leading to your front door.

Taehyung rolls his dark eyes and gives you a quick smile.

He didn’t always used to be like he was now, he was the biggest stoner you knew. Which is what always caught you off guard about his decision. It seemed quite random, it was strange enough to you that you felt it could’ve made the news, ‘Small town Stoner Turns Good Boy Cop’ You chuckled at that thought.

Though you missed your favorite smoke buddy.

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The next day when you got out of work you drove over to your dealer’s house to replace the Eighth that Taehyung had to confiscate from you.

Your old beat up car had been running on its last leg for a while now, but it continued to get you where you needed to go, and you spent too much money on smoke to think about getting a new ride.

Jungkook was lounging on his front porch smoking a cigarette, his eyes shut in a dreamlike state, his jet black hair falling slightly down over the closed lids. The bright rays of the summer day blessing his sun kissed skin in an angelic manner.

“Hows my favorite pot-head” you grinned as you approached him, catching him off guard and causing him to flinch at the sound of your voice.

Realizing it was just you he grinned and extended out a hand for you to help him stand up from the step he was relaxed on in front of his house.

He stood tall and smoked one last drag on his cigarette before putting it out and opening his front door with a welcoming gesture inviting you inside.

The scent of weed burned into your nose instantly when walking into his house, you loved the smell, you loved everything about it.

Taehyung used to too…

He was the most knowledgeable stoner you’d ever met. He could even tell the strain of the weed he was smoking after just smelling it. You and your friends used to quiz him for fun and he’d always ace every test without fail.

You wondered if sometimes when he’d pull someone over and arrest them for the exact thing he used to partake in, he’d catch a whiff and know the name of their bud.

It all seemed pretty hypocritical to you, but you have to remind yourself you both have grown up, people change, though you haven't much, you can’t blame him for it.

Jungkook went over to a drawer and pulled out a large glass jar, carrying it with two hands over to a wooden coffee table near his couch. You, knowing the drill, doing this trip to Jungkook’s at least once a week, had sat down on the couch to wait for him.

Jungkook pulled a long un lit joint from the front pocket of his red flannel and held it between his lips with his eyes focused on the jar in front of him.

He pulled out a few nugs from the jar and put them on a cheap gram scale he had on his table, weighing it out to the eighth he knew was your regular purchase.

“Isn’t this a little early to be here, how fast did you go through your last bag?” Jungkook chuckled, placing the nugs into a ziploc bag carefully.

“Ugh” you sighed. “Taehyung again”

Jungkook knew just what you meant by that. Taehyung used to be close friends with him as well before he became a cop. They had a big falling out when Taehyung joined the force, Jungkook hated cops with a passion and said some choice words to Taehyung that had severed their relationship permanently. It hurt to think about how things used to be, the three of you laughing and smoking, riding around in your old car flying on cloud 9. Literally, the strain that was your favorite at the time was called cloud 9.

Jungkook shook his head and pulled out a lighter from the same pocket the joint came from, lighting the tip for a second before inhaling and letting the smoke glide down his lungs, then passing it to you.

“I don’t know how you can stand to be around him anymore” Jungkook grumbled.

“First of all, I really don’t have a choice, actually I think we are having dinner with our families together later tonight. Secondly” you made eye contact with Jungkook “Hes really not that bad. It could be worse. All I got was a soft warning and a milkshake” you passed the joint back to Jungkook.

“Until he gets some pressure from his higher ups to be more of a hardass. I think your days of getting off easy are short lived y/n. Enjoy it while it lasts. He’s sold his soul to ‘the man’ trust me” He spoke between coughs from the rough hit he’d just took. Putting air quotes around ‘the man’.

You didn’t like the idea of that and you shut up for a bit, sharing the rest of the joint and paying Jungkook for your bag.

He gave you a hug and a smile on your way out. “Be more careful out there y/n” he winked and bumped your shoulder with his fist playfully.

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You went straight from Jungkook’s to your parents home where you were to have dinner with Taehyung’s family. You sat in your car and quickly sprayed a massively overpowering amount of perfume on yourself hoping to mask the weed smell. Then putting in some eyedrops to help with your glassy eyed expression you’d seen in your car mirror. You winced at the way that it burned but were thankful for the relief that it gave to your dry eyes.

When you arrived through the door your mom instantly ran over to you and embraced you in her signature hug, that always included a large inhale.

“You smell like Marijauna” her eyes narrowed at you.

“Oh no, not the Marijauna” you feigned shock and put your hands to your cheeks a surprised expression looking like the boy from home alone.

She glared at you, not amused. You knew your parents didn’t care that much, your dad especially. They didn’t smoke but you knew your dad was a hippie in his day so he had no room to judge. Your mom was slightly more judgemental but she usually just let you off with some snide comments and rude glances before returning to her normal bubbly self.

She ran to her room and grabbed some febreeze and started chasing you around the house with it while you laughed, tears forming in both of your eyes at how ridiculous she was being. She was mostly worried about upsetting Taehyung’s family most likely. Not that they were the type to judge either, but it was still made for a slightly more awkward dinner if it ended up getting brought up with Taehyung’s current position in life. No one in town really knew how to act around him.

You thought that must be tough on him. People that were once his peers were now all terrified of him. No one wanted to talk to him about anything more than casual small talk, and it was always very shallow conversation. No one wanted to open up all of their deep secrets or emotions in front of a cop. On the surface no one would think that it bothered him much. He was good at keeping a constant blank expression that never let anyone into what he was thinking even back in highschool. But, knowing Taehyung the way you knew him, it must bother him.

He was the life of the party, and now he's the buzzkill who crashes the parties.

Taehyung’s family arrived and you all sat down to eat. Your parents asked Taehyung about his job and how it’d been going. He said he liked it and he was actually getting close to a promotion.

His eyes flickered your way, almost like a small apology was hidden in that look.

You knew what that meant, no more getting off easily anymore. Jungkook was right, the idea that you had a cop friend on your side was just a fun fantasy. Next time you got caught by him, he wouldn’t be treating you like a friend one bit.

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The moment came sooner than you’d thought. You and Jungkook had been going on a late night taco bell run, smoking a joint the whole way there, and you as usual were carrying a decent amount of smoke in your bag.

You had stopped in the parking lot, parked in the back to hotbox and eat in the car. Hotboxing was one of the funnest activities you used to do in highschool and you had mentioned to Jungkook that it’d been way too long, he was more than happy to oblige.

You were giggling like a child over the way the word ‘Taco’ sounded if you said it slowly when you were startled by a tapping noise on the window.

Not able to see through the smoke fogged glass who had knocked on your window, you squinted then glanced to Jungkook, who stared wide eyed at the colors of blue and red flashing to the side of the car.

“Fuckkkkkkk” he groaned, hitting the steering wheel roughly with a flat palm. “Fuck fuck fuck. Y/n you’re carrying a bag aren’t you”

Your eyes grew wide, “Y-yeah…are you?”

Jungkook gave you a ‘what do you think’ look

Of course he was.

You sighed and rolled your window down, a wave of smoke pouring out and flowing right into the face of the officer standing there. Fuck, it wasn’t Taehyung.

“How’s it going officer?” you asked sweetly. He was less than pleased.

“Both of you. Step out of the car” he ordered sternly.

You did as he said, and now realized that another officer sat in a separate car. Taehyung…

“Officer Kim, can you assist me here” The older policeman spoke Taehyung’s way.

He got out of the car, his uniform fit him way too sinfully, you’d always though he looked more like the cop from an old porno , than one you’d ever have taken seriously. But, the expression he currently held on his face gave you the chills, and not in a good way.

He glared your way, shaking his head in disappointment. Jungkook was throwing dagger eyes towards Taehyung as he started to approach him to pat him down.

“Oh fuck off Mr. High and mighty” Jungkook scoffed, stepping back from Taehyung.

“Kook” you pleaded at your friend to take hold of his temper. The older cop had started to pat you down as you held your arms out. Upon finding the bag in your pocket he waved it in the air like he’d hit the jackpot.

“Look what we’ve got here Officer Kim. Someone’s been a naughty girl” he playful spoke. The way he said that made you nauseous, you didn’t like the way he had just started behaving one bit. But, what could you do.

He continued his pat down, his hands lingering on your breasts for too long. You shot him a glare and tried to recoil away from his touch.

“Ah ah, you’d be surprised how many ladies try to hide illegal items in their bra’s thinking I wouldn’t check there” he grinned evilly. Fucking pig. You thought.

You turned to see how things were going with Jungkook just in time to see him winding up a fist and throwing it forward into Taehyung's face.

Shit.

The hit sounded out like he’d damn near broken Taehyung’s nose, and the other officer was immediately to Taehyung’s side. Both of them tackling Jungkook and pinning his arms behind his back securing them with handcuffs. The older cop holding him down with a knee on his back pressing his face into the parking lot’s asphalt.

You stood shaking in realization that Jungkook had just gotten himself into some real trouble. All because of his stupid grudge with Taehyung. If anyone else had gotten in a small tuff like that with an ex best friend, it probably would’ve just ended with a couple bloody noses and both men walking away feeling like they got the better hit in. But because Taehyung was what he was now...it’s most likely going to end with Jungkook doing some time. Assaulting a cop was definitely not a minor crime.

They had scooped Jungkook off of the ground and shoved him into the backseat of the older officers cruiser. Jungkook cussed and grumbled the whole time.

“I’m gonna take this one down to the station,” the Officer pointed to Jungkook “You take our little lady here home. Maybe teach her a lesson on picking a better choice in boyfriend” he winked Taehyung’s way.

You were appalled but not surprised at the older man’s behavior. Some cops felt like they could get away with that shit...cuz well...they could.

You followed Taehyung to his car silently with your head low, only lifting it once to send one last glance Jungkook’s way, catching his eyes for a second and both exchanging looks of worry. Possibly a goodbye for a little while.

Once you were in Taehyung’s car the waterworks came. You held your face in your hands and sobbed loudly, your body convulsing with the heaviness of your emotions.

Taehyung was quiet, pulling a few tissues from his glovebox and holding them to his nose tilting his head back.

The two of you sat there for a while, silence lingering between you like some delicate thing just waiting to break.

“I’m sorry” Taehyung whispered.

“For what? Getting Jungkook arrested or for your pervy boss and his grabby hands?” You spat out with some fire, still slightly fucked up on the drugs you’d been inhaling.

“Both...All of it…” he muttered, staring straight ahead and avoiding your piercing gaze.

“Why’d you even do this Tae? This job doesn’t suit you, I just don’t get it. We’re best friends. And look at us.” You motioned to the way you were sitting. Him in the front, and you behind glass separating the space between the two of you. You noted on how much of a metaphor for that felt like for the distance he’d put between you, differences between you now…

“Regular Catwoman and Batman huh?” he murmured.

Goddamnit. And there's the exact reason you could never hate him. “You fucking nerd.” You sighed chuckling and falling back into the seat shaking your head. “Oh my god. You’re not allowed to make me laugh right now.”

Taehyung sent an apologetic smile your way.

As upset as you were, his joking really did shift the tone in the car and you decided to tease him back.

You put your wrists together and held them to the glass near Taehyung’s head.

“Aren’t you gonna cuff me officer?” you said flirtatiously, batting your eyelashes at him. Expecting him to roll his eyes and groan at your joke.

Instead you were met with a serious expression. His eyes lingering on your wrists and then trailing over to your lips. His tongue darted out and licked over his bottom lick slightly.

“Holy shit did that actually turn you on or something?” you gasped, lowering your hands from his view.

He instantly snapped out of the state of mind he had gone into so suddenly. “Of course not” he snapped “Don’t be ridiculous”

“Oh my god. It did! I didn’t realize how kinky you were Kim Taehyung.” you winked at him “Handcuffs get you going? No wonder you became a cop. You’re going to turn into old pervy Officer whatshisname aren’t you? Gross Tae,” You started to laugh.

“Shut the fuck up, I’m not like that.” he barked loudly. Instantly catching you off guard and having you sit up straight and rigid.

“Sorry” you mumbled. “Officer” you added with a bit a spite.

“Damn right. You think you can just get away with all of this, with no consequences and no worries. One day you’re going to have to grow up y/n.”

“Oh like you?” you raised an eyebrow “No thank you...sir”

You heard what sounded like a low growl from Taehyung.

In an instant he sped up and parked the car in the far corner of the parking lot where the lot lights weren’t reaching. In hindsight that was probably where you and Jungkook should’ve been parked.

Taehyung got out of the car and stood by your door. You wondered if he wanted you to get out and join him outside the car. But the car doors of police cars are always locked from the inside unless you have the key. So you waited, for what seemed like painfully long time.

You glanced out the window to see Taehyung pacing back and forth outside of the car with a hand pressed to his forehead, he was stressed. Probably from the fact that he’d basically just sent Jungkook, his former best friend, to jail.

Taehyung turned and rested a hand on the door handle. Was he finally going to let you out? He seemed to be hesitating. After what felt like forever the door clicked open and Taehyung was climbing into the back seat with you.

“Oh hello?” you spoke in surprise.

Taehyung didn’t speak, he continued his hungry gaze from earlier, biting his lip slightly and staring at you with bedroom eyes.

“Taehyung…” you started before you were cut off.

“I wanted this job to protect people. I care about those close to me. The older I got the more I realized how important that was. Everyone thinks that I just want to bust them for weed or partying and be the killjoy of our town. But, that wasn’t it. Remember that summer that girl got drugged at that party. No one was able to find the guy. I wanted to be the type of person that could look out for people. That could maybe do something about things like that. It sucks that I had to give up some of my habits that I don’t necessarily agree with the laws on. But I follow it, I sacrificed that to keep this town safe. To help keep you safe” he added at the end. His expression sincere.

“I guess I hadn’t really thought of it that way. Jungkook probably hasn’t either…”

“Yeah Jungkook doesn’t give a shit about my reasonings. Fuck the police and all that.” he rolled his eyes.

“I get it” you shrugged. “That's actually a pretty decent reason. I miss getting to hangout with you other places than the back of your cruiser though” you teased, poking him in the shoulder.

“Mmm then maybe you should start behaving little girl” he growled in a tone you’d never heard him take with you before.

“Tae..” you looked at him with furrowed brows, your mouth hanging open slightly in confusion.

Before you knew it Taehyung's hand was clutching you jaw lightly, one finger trailing over your lips.

“I’d always thought…” he whispered. “Maybe one day, you’d calm down with all of this stuff, and we could…” he trailed off.

You blinked rapidly in realization of what he was saying. Did Taehyung really just imply what you think he did? You felt your hands start to shake slightly. Not that you were completely opposed to it, but you just couldn’t understand why he would feel that way. You’d on and off had a crush on Taehyung your whole life. He was your first crush when you were just in elementary school. You weren’t even sure if he’d remembered, but one day when you were probably only 7 and he was 8 years old, tiny little Tae had run up to you on the playground with a bouquet of yellow dandelions clutched in his small hand.

“Y/n. Will you marry me?” he had squeaked out.

You had chuckled and taken the dandelions from his hand “Taehyunnnng, we’re too young to get married.”

He had pouted cutely, crossing his arms across his chest. “Fine. Well one day you will. And I’ll buy you a big house, with a puppy, and a big garden.” You had nodded and said “Fine. One day a lonnng time from now. Promise” and the two of you had continued to play during your recess and it was never spoken of again.

You’d occasionally think back on it as a funny memory. But now, looking at him here. The way he looked at you…and those words. ‘Maybe one day you will’ ‘Maybe one day you would…’

“Tae…” you stuttered out again.

“Maybe you just need to learn a lesson or two. Maybe I need to teach you how to behave.” he growled, his hand trailing over your lips was now making its way to your neck. His thumb slightly pressing down on your jugular as he eyed you dangerously.

You whispered under his touch but didn’t try to pull back. You couldn’t deny to yourself that this excites you, it probably shouldn’t but you’d always been a sucker for a little pain.

“Is that was you need hm?” he asked authoritatively.

Should you?

“Y-yes…” you stammered out.

“That’s what I thought” he hissed out. “That handcuff comment was uncalled for. Maybe you were the one who wanted me to tie you up hm?” He started to move to pull out the handcuffs he kept on him, twirling them around on his middle finger.

Your heart started to beat rapidly, and your breathing was becoming so quickened at the sight of Taehyung, your best friend Taehyung...Police officer Taehyung, in front of you, uniform and all, about to handcuff you for mutual pleasure.

You nodded innocently.

A low groan rumbled in his chest as he leaned over to you, pushing you down onto the backseat so your back was flat against the cushions. He now hovered over you, his face mere inches from your own, and a look of pure lust gazing down at you.

He started to grab your hands and cuffed you to a spot they had in the cruiser that made his task of securing you quite easy. The metal bit into your skin slightly but you could tell he made sure not to put them on too tight. Your arms were now held over your head, and any thoughts of backing out had been pushed away. You wanted him, you craved him, you needed this.

Taehyung’s lips crashed down on to yours sloppily and wet, instantly slipping his tongue into your mouth as he held your jaw roughly with one hand.

“I’m gonna fuck that dirty mouth of yours. I’m going to teach you how to respect authority little girl” he growled, now straddling your hips and unbuttoning the belt of his uniform and tossing it to the side.

He didn’t continue to undress himself. Instead his hands pulled on the bottom of your shirt, rolling it up over your breasts and letting it sit high up on your chest, not being able to fully take it off due to the way you were cuffed.

He let out a lustful moan and bit his lip at the sight of you.

Of course you weren’t wearing a bra, he thought. It was so like you to be like this, always the tease. Taehyung had loved you for as long as he could remember, and finally he had you here underneath him. Strangely when he used to picture fucking you in the back of a cop car (because he totally had fantasized about that) he wasn’t the cop. But, here you were, and here he was, grown up and still exactly the way he had always pictured. Your tits looked so incredible, better in person. He’d never told you but when you’d gotten your nudes leaked around the town at one point by an ex boyfriend he happened to get a copy sent to him. He had deleted it right away...if right away meant after jacking off to them first and then deleting them…

He felt bad about that, but he loved you so much and your body was completely irresistible to him, he didn’t know how he’d managed to make it this long in life without having you for himself.

He gave your tits a few squeezes and lowered his head down to them, biting now on your nipple grazing his teeth over your skin, and loving the way you squirmed under him at the sensation. He sucked and bit at you, making sure to roll the neglected nipple in his fingers while he did.

You were absolutely loving it.

Taehyung then pulled back releasing you with a pop. He now started to unbutton the black uniform pants and pull out his enormous cock.

Your jaw dropped at the mouth watering sight.

You’d always assumed he was big, you’d seen him get hard in some swim shorts once at a pool party when you’d shown up in a skimpy swimsuit, but now seeing it fully you realized you’d underestimated the length and girth of him greatly. You licked your lips hungrily, wanting a taste.

“ You like that huh baby? Dirty little slut, so weak for my cock right now?” he grinned stroking himself slowly.

You nodded in response, your eyes fixed on the length in front of you.

He moved to position himself so it was right in front of your face and he was leaning over you.

“Hungry little slut” he whispered. He smacked you hard against the side of your cheek with his heavy cock, you were surprised but mostly turned on at the fact that it actually hurt a bit.

“Are you gonna behave for me?” he asked sternly, looking down at you with a fucked out expression.

“Maybe?” you teased.

Whack. He smacked you again with his cock, slightly harder this time.

“Don’t be a brat now. You are going to behave, or I’ll make you behave. Okay?” he growled.

“Okay” you whimpered, trying to pretend that you weren’t totally in love with how he was acting, trying to play into the game.

“Okay what” he snapped.

“Okay...sir?”

“Thats right.” he nodded. Then placed his hand back around your jaw, gripping you tightly. “You’re gonna open up and take my dick, allll the way. Let me fuck this dirty mouth of yours” he ordered. “And maybe once you’ve sucked every last drop of cum out of me, you’ll think a little more before you go around acting out.”

“Yes sir” you nodded, parting your lips showing him that you were ready to take him.

“Fuck,” he whispered, breaking the stern voice he’d been maintaining for a quick moment, letting on to just how excited he was to be this intimite with you.

He pushed his hips forward, his hand on his shaft and the tip of his cock now sitting on your lips.

“You’re okay with this right?” he whispered. Gentleman Taehyung making an appearance for a moment

“Yes sir” you purred with a grin.

“Get ready to take me then baby girl” he growled, going back to his previous demeanor.

He pushed his cock into your mouth all the way, slowly, getting you adjusted to how huge he was and getting a feel for how much you could take. To his delight he slid all the way down until your nose was buried into his abdomen.

“Fuckkkk” he hissed out. “Such a Good girl for such a bad girl.”

He quickly pulled out and repeated slowly fucking his cock all the way into your mouth and quickly pulling out again.

“Get ready baby” he moaned. Then started to speed up his pace, his hips rolling into your mouth quickly, causing you to gag lewdly a few times as he did which only seemed to turn him on more, causing a pleasured hiss each time.

“I fucking love this mouth baby. You take me so well.” Taehyung was biting at his lip and staring down at you in awe.

You moaned around his cock, the vibrations making him stutter and throwing him off his pace for a moment.

“So good” he whispered. You felt like that one wasn’t meant for you to hear, but you loved knowing how good you were making him feel so your heart skipped a bit at his praise.

Taehyung gripped your hair, steadying your head and pumping himself into your at a fast pace.

“Thats fucking it y/n.” He panted out “Fucking. Learn. How. To. Behave.” he growled and smacked a hand to the side of your face.

Your eyes were watering and you felt a warm pool of wet growing between your legs. You could get used to this Taehyung.

“I’m gonna cum in your mouth and you’re going to swallow every. Last. fucking. Drop.” he pounded into you in sync with each of those last words.

You stared up at him with flirtatious eyes and smiled slightly.

“Damn those eyes are dangerous” he groaned and with that you felt him tense up and his pace grow uneven.

��Shit. Fuck. Y/n. Oh my god” he screamed out while emptying himself into your mouth. His cock twitching wildly as he fucked into you. You closed your lips around him as he pulled out, sucking slightly to get every last drop as he’d ordered.

He looked down at you with pure joy as you stick out your tongue to show him his cum pooled up and gathered in your mouth before rolling it back into your mouth and swallowing with a loud gulp.

“Wow.” he stared wide eyed at you. “So fucking hot” gasped out

He now went to the cuffs and pulled his key out, releasing you from your restraints.

Taehyung rested down on top of you where you still laid. His head on your chest.

“You alright man?” you chuckled running your fingers through his sweat drenched hair.

“Mhm” he smiled widely with his eyes closed “That was amazing”

This cute Taehyung that cuddled up next to you now was a Taehyung you thought you’d lost long ago. Your heart felt full and warm seeing him this way.

“Soooo are we returning the favor or?” you joked

His head snapped up he hovered over your face and looked at you with a playful expression. “Nope. that’s your punishment for getting caught.”

“For getting caught huh?”

“Well yeah. You don’t have to stop doing what you love y/n. For God sake, if you’re going to date a cop you can’t be that reckless with it thought. Keep it in the house and where you’re for sure safe from anyone catching you or calling me to come check out the situation” he rolled his eyes.

You sighed. “I guess I can manage that. Wait...date? A cop? Wait…” you started to stutter realizing what he’d said.

“Well you promised you’d marry me one day remember? but, I figured dating is a good place to start” he grinned with a wink.

You felt butterflies in your stomach at his recollection of that day so long ago.

“What an odd pair we’ll be” you chuckled.

“Yeah… oh also I’m gonna get things with Jungkook figured out okay. I feel like shit about it, and I’m going to make sure everyone at the station knows he didn’t mean it, and I barely got a scratch on me.” he let you know.

You nodded, almost forgetting about Jungkook.

“I think that’d be a good idea Tae, I think he honestly misses you, you know?”

“Yeah I miss him too…”

You planted a small peck on Taehyung’s lips. “You’ll get it figured out. I know you will.”

Taehyung smiled down at you and returned your quick peck.

“How are you so bad and so good all at the same time” he shook his head.

“I guess that's just what you like in a future wife” you teased.

“I suppose so,” he replied. Except he knew, that he meant every word.

Love is such a funny thing.

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #taehyung x reader #v x reader #taehyung x you #cop!taehyung #bts friends to lovers #jungkook x reader #bts x you

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365daysoftododeku · 5 years

Text

4th December 2019

Author: Mara

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Fire Alarm

Izuku didn’t mind the dormitories. Yes, he missed home, but it was nice. He shared his dorm with a guy named Iida Tenya. He couldn’t have asked for a better roommate, as Iida cleaned up his things, knew how to cook, remember to do the groceries and could help Izuku with some of his homework, if necessary. His neighbours were nice too, guys and girls his age who all suffered under the strain of college, arranged impromptu movie nights and one of them was a stress baker. If there was one person he would want to room with other than Tenya, it would be Hagakure Tooru. She might be a little bit messy and loud—not that Tenya was quiet per se—but she was a stellar baker. Everything she baked was worth dying for (one guy nearly died from it, but that was because the fool hadn’t asked about the ingredients and apparently had a garlic allergy). Soon after the rumour spread around that the guy was a vampire, but nobody had proved it yet.

There was one thing he didn’t like about the dormitories, and that was that a group of just-adults lived there. Like, they weren’t teens anymore, but definitely not adults. Wild parties were held weekly, sometimes the stairs were occupied by idiots sliding down them on sledges. Every floor had at least three students who know first aid, as people did the most ridiculous things. You even got some discount if you knew first aid because that meant it was unlikely the landowner had to deal with it. And the fire alarm.

People were allowed to cook, perfectly fine if people actually knew how to cook. The issue was, most of them just tried things. Izuku was one of those people, no shame in admitting that. But he had never set the fire alarm off. Others, however, weren’t all that successful. Izuku knew the emergency protocol on the top of his head by now, and he has been living there for three months.

~*~

When the fire alarm went off, Izuku wanted to nothing else but burry himself underneath his pillow and ignore it. But Iida wouldn’t allow it, yelling that they had to leave. That this was not a drill. It probably was nothing, but Izuku knew that Iida would drag him out of bed if necessary. Not breaking the rules today for Izuku.

Rolling out of bed, Izuku slipped into a pair of flip-flops and grabbed his jacket. He was already wearing a flannel pyjama—a bit embarrassing but he at least wouldn’t freeze his arse off outside—and they jacket would keep any remaining cold out.

Grabbing his keys, wallet and phone, he shuffled after an unfairly awake Iida. He would never achieve the level of awakeness Iida could. The alarm hadn’t been blaring for more than two minutes, yet Iida looked like he hadn’t slept a wink. No, he looked like he had woken up on his own and not by the noise. Izuku most likely looked like he just had risen from the grave.

Once outside, the square the dorm room was located it (together with a few more) was filled with students. A few were like Iida, wide awake and herding the students to the cold outside, but most were like Izuku. Barely awake, bleary-eyed and dressed in sleepwear. He spotted a few familiar faces, a couple of his neighbours, some of his classmates. Then his gaze landed on a familiar figure that made Izuku’s heart beat fast.

He still had no idea who the guy was, aside from being a student, but Izuku was smitten. Well, attracted to him. The guy was wearing sweats and a worn t-shirt, his long, pink hair was tied up in a messy bun. He didn’t look like he had just woken up, neither clearly awake nor bleary-eyed. More like he just had to go to bed.

Realising the guy was probably freezing—it was Winter after all—Izuku overcame his nervous jitters and stammering heart and walked over to his crush. Was it a crush? Maybe.

“Hi,” Izuku greeted, waving awkwardly.

The guy jumped, looking at him with wide eyes. A look of guilt was written all over his face.

Realising that the guy probably was the one who had triggered the fire alarm—there was no other reason to act so jittery—Izuku pondered if he should bring it up. It was really obvious, from his reaction, but he didn't want to make the guy feel uncomfortable. It could happen to everyone.

“Isn’t it cold?” Izuku pressed on, toying with the cuffs of his jacket.

The guy shrugged, though he pressed his arms closer to his body. Goosebumps run all across his bare arms.

Shrugged off his jacket, Izuku pushed it in the guy’s arms, “here,” he offered. “It might be a little short, but it would suck if you get ill from this.”

Taking the jacket from Izuku’s grip, the guy put it on. It didn’t fit him all that bad. What the guy had in height, Izuku had that in width. It fitted illy around his shoulders, but that made the sleeves long enough to properly hit his hands.

Almost disappearing into Izuku’s jacket, the guy muttered a ‘thanks’.

“I’m Midoriya Izuku,” he offered the guy his hand, in the hope to finally learn his name.

Reluctantly, the other guy took his hand, “Todoroki Shouto.”

A silence fell over them, one that made Izuku feel jittery. The guy was clearly uncomfortable, probably for causing this whole mess, which meant that it was up to Izuku to start a conversation. So Izuku did what he did best and start to talk about whatever popped up in his head. Ranging between his roommate, his mother’s cooking and his teachers, Izuku managed to keep himself occupied through the entire inspection.

When the fireman gave them the all clear, Izuku stopped talking. He had been so caught up in talking that he hadn’t realised that Todoroki hadn’t answered at all. Izuku probably had bored him to tears with all the chatting.

Looking at Shouto, he was proven wrong. The guy looked a little startled, blinking a few times while frowning.

“Why did you stop?”

Izuku started at the guy in surprise.

“Because we can go back inside?” Izuku said awkwardly, pointing at the thinning crowd. “And I was talking too much.”

Todoroki’s cheeks started to grow even redder and he looked away, toeing the ground.

“I like listening to you talk,” Todoroki admitted.

Oh. Izuku felt his cheeks heat up. That was really sweet, but also a bit sudden. The guy didn’t know Izuku at all, unless—

Had Todoroki been looking at him like Izuku had been looking? With interest, but keeping it at fleeing glances, afraid the other would catch them?

“You should go,” Todoroki muttered, still refusing to make eye contact. “Your boyfriend is waiting.”

Confused, Izuku looked over his shoulder. Iida was waiting for him, well, sort off. He probably was waiting for Izuku, but also making sure that everyone was back inside and hadn’t fallen asleep outside, risking getting hypothermia.

“Iida is my roommate,” Izuku pointed out.

Todoroki looked surprised, finally making eye-contact with Izuku. He was really pretty, but also adorable. With the bright blush staining his cheeks, his eyes almost sparkling. The pink hair helped.

“So, you’re single?” Todoroki asked bluntly.

Flustered, but seeing no reason to lie, Izuku nodded. Feeling a little daring, and since he had nothing to lose anyway, Izuku decided to ask the same question, only sounding a little more nervous.

“You’re single too?”

“Yes.”

Izuku’s brain was overloading a little. He was flirting, with this guy, this absolutely gorgeous and adorable guy and he had no idea how he was even an option for Todoroki. So Izuku ended up doing what he did best, talk. And that included blurting out stupid shit.

“Did you set off the fire alarm?”

There was a long moment of silence before Todoroki snorted and shook his head, “did it once, in the first week I think. But not this time around.”

Izuku was sure that his face was resembling a colour close to Christmas-red. Seemed that he was in the mood for an early Christmas.

“But you looked so startled when I talked to you—I’ve been told I don’t look all that menacing.”

Todoroki muttered something Izuku couldn’t catch.

“What?”

“Nothing— do you drink coffee?”

Izuku nodded.

“Would you,” Todoroki stammered over his words. “Join me for coffee, tomorrow?”

“Sure, um.” It took Izuku way too long to realise that Todoroki was asking him out. “Before morning classes?”

Todoroki nodded, fidgetting with the zipper of Izuku’s jacket.

The mood around them turned awkward and feeling tired, jittery, cold and with his heart beating erratically, Izuku offered Todoroki a non-verbal goodbye and fled like the coward he was.

Iida greeted him with a curious expression, eyebrows subtly raised.

“Where is your jacket?”

Izuku looked back at Todoroki. He now was talking with another guy, who looked like he had just woken up. Not thirty minutes ago, when the fire alarm went off, but a minute ago.

“I will get it back tomorrow.”

Iida’s eyes lit up, “so you have a date with Todoroki?”

Izuku wanted to ask why Iida knew Todoroki, and why he had never told Izuku that, but he just felt giddy. He was going on a date with Todoroki, and only because some fool had set off the fire alarm. If he ever found out who had set it off, Izuku would send them his portion of Hagakure’s homemade food.

________________________________________________________________

Would you like your work to be featured in the 365 Days of TodoDeku Project? Apply here! (≧∇≦)/

#Story #lavanderstarctacher #TodoDeku #365DaysofTodoDeku #TodoDeku365 #365 Days of TodoDeku #tddk #Shouto Todoroki #Todoroki Shouto #Izuku Midoriya #Midoriya Izuku #Boku no Hero Academia #BNHA #My Hero Academia #MHA #Todoroki x Midoriya #Shouto x Izuku #TodoIzu #long post

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wantstoflyafraidtofall · 4 years

Link

Chapter 2: New Old Thoughts

***TRIGGER WARNING*** Mentions of homophobia/homophobic language and past self harm

---

Dean wakes up in a cold sweat yet again. The black shadow he saw thought he saw plagued his dreams every night since he's been there. Which was odd. He usually doesn't dream at all.

He rolled out of bed and peeled off his boxers and shirt, both damp with sweat, and turned on the shower.

The warm water -- with amazing water pressure, dare he say -- soothed his nerves. He would have to search up if frequent nightmares were normal for people moving into new houses later.

After getting dried off and dressed, Dean went downstairs and turned on his old coffee machine. He watched the dark coffee drip down into the pot.

The deadline for unpacking really helped speed up the whole process and the amount of sleep he was getting helped to.

By what Sam had said about Cas, he sounds ok. Just a quiet guy who's fresh out of college and needs a place to stay for a bit.

Dean had finished unpacking the rest of the boxes yesterday. He had saved the library for last and the whole time his knee was a bitch. But he had to say, now that it’s done, It looks really nice.

He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot and went out into the large, mostly empty sunroom. He was going to have to get some furniture to fill all the floor space so they could sit and read or watch TV in here. Maybe a bean bag and a couch.

The morning sun shone brightly through the windows of the room, casting soft shadows in corners and the shelves. The backyard was really nice and big but over grown. The stones in the fire pit had weeds growing out the cracks and the fish pond would kill any fish that would dare swim in it. The grass was almost knee length and would be a complete bitch to mow. Maybe he could get Cas to do it. Complain about his knee hurting or something.

Dean went back in the kitchen and poured himself a second cup of coffee. He checked his watch, 9:34am. Sam had told him Cas would be there around 10:30, which left Dean almost a full hour to do whatever he wanted.

He does enjoy his time alone but is quite excited for a housemate. He would never admit it to anyone but the house was getting a bit lonely and now that he has everything unpacked, he would guess it would be boring as well.

Bubbles covered Dean's hands as he washed the few dishes remaining in the sink. He wanted to make a good first impression on Cas by having the house clean and was using it as a pass time to cool his nerves.

He’d just put the last plate in the cabinet when the doorbell rang. Dean quickly walked over to the door, running his fingers through his hair before opening it.

Dean was surprised at the man he saw standing outside. He was wearing a tan trench coat over an ill fitting suit with a messily done blue tie. His hair was dark and messy, as if he had just rolled out of bed. A 5 o’clock shadow adorned his sharp jaw. Dean’s eyes moved up his face, and met a pair of eyes that were more blue than the deepest parts of a sunny sky.

Cas cleared his throat before asking, “Are you Dean Winchester?”

Man, that voice . It was deep and sounded as if he had been gurgling gravel every day since he was 12. Dean quit his staring and smiled at Cas.

“Yup, that's me,” Dean beamed, “And you must be Cas.”

Cas squinted a little harder and tilted his head slightly to the side at the use of the nickname.

Dean took a step back, opening the door wide. “Come on in, you have 3 choices in rooms but I recommend up the left stairs at the end of the hall.”

“Thank you.” Cas said as he passed Dean and began walking towards the stairs, his suitcase rolling behind him. The man glanced around as he walked, carefully observing the wooden structure of the house.

Dean closed the door and went into the library and grabbed Soul Enchilada off his shelf of favorites. He laid out on an old love-seat in front of one of the windows and began to try and read.

He read a few lines before starting over. His mind was wandering elsewhere, to his handsome new housemate that would be living with him for who knows how long, how that deep, rumbly voice had said his name earlier, eyes of azure, streaked with cruelan and sky blue.

He thought back to how when he met those eyes, they seemed to stare deep into his soul. The small twinge of annoyance when Dean had used the nickname ‘Cas’ and how he had tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, his plush, lightly chapped lips barely parted. They looked so soft, so kissable. It would have been so easy to have just- NO.

Dean caught his slipping thoughts. Internally scolding himself for not only falling for his new housemate, but a guy.

After closing the book and placing it back on the shelf, Dean went upstairs to his room, into the bathroom, and locked the door behind him. He lifted his arms in front of him, using his right hand he nudged the sleeve of his flannel back and felt his thumb drag over the small, criss-crossing scars on his forearm.

He released a shuddering breath. He is such a disappointment to his father. It was wrong for him to love another guy and no matter what he did he couldn't stop. No matter how many times Dad had taken out his anger on his “disgusting faggot of a son” he couldn't stop the thoughts.

Dean pulled his sleeve back down and looked into his own green eyes in the mirror. He could almost hear Sam's voice saying it with him as he whispered to himself, “Dad was a bastard and a terrible father. You can love whoever you want, Dean, It’s ok.”

Dean had been so careful to hide the scars from Sammy, but one day at Bobby’s place he had his sleeves pulled up to his elbows so he had better access inside the car and little, 13 year-old Sam saw the scars and asked what they were about.

It wasn't until a few months before Dean was leaving for the military that he had told Sam why he had those scars. And Sam just hugged him and told him that it was ok and that he would always love him. Damn, he loves that kid.

Dean sighed. No hitting on hot roommate dude. He could be straight and Dean isn't going to 1) Make him uncomfortable while he stays here, and 2) Get in a relationship with… well, anyone. Not like anyone wants to be in a relationship with someone as broken as him anyway.

When Dean made his way back downstairs, he saw Cas standing in the library examining the books with curiosity.

“Hey Cas,” The sound of Dean’s voice caused the man to turn towards him, “I'm going to go on a grocery run. Is there anything you want?”

He stared at Dean for a moment before replying, “The ingredients for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches is all, Thanks.”

Dean chuckled, “You know, you're out of college now, you can eat some actual food.”

“I'm not a good cook in the slightest and I'm sure I will like some of the stuff you buy.”

“K then, see you later.” Dean grumbled, grabbing his keys and closing the heavy front door hard behind him.

He walked down the steps and started Baby, Bon Jovi’s Wanted Dead or Alive pouring out the speakers. Dean turned up the music and drove down the driveway.

The trip to the store was short and uneventful. He grabbed the stuff Cas asked for along with some stuff to make dinner for the next week(He also got some greens because Sammy would give him another 3 hour lecture on his diet if he didn’t).

Kevin was working again today, somehow looking even more bored than last time. He scanned Dean's groceries while Dean asked about what classes he was taking.

Kevin had told him he was going to be a freshman and was studying computer sciences so he could make enough money to support himself and help support his mom.

Dean said goodbye to Kevin and loaded his groceries into Baby's trunk. The ride home was smooth and fast. Cas was nowhere in sight when he got home and Dean guessed he was probably in his room.

After unloading all the groceries, Dean pulled out two plates and began making lunch. He decided to keep it simple with some PB&Js and some potato chips. He put Cas’s plate on the island with a glass of water and made his way up the stairs to his door.

He knocked on the wood. “Hey Cas, I made some lunch for ya. It’s in the kitchen if you want it.”

There was no reply but he heard a faint shuffle of movement on the other side of the door. Dean went back downstairs and took his plate outside to the small shed in the backyard. The door was unlocked and swung open when Dean pushed.

Inside there was an old workbench pushed against the back wall. Gardening tools hung on hooks drilled into the wall and a slightly rusty lawn mower sat in the corner. He brushed some dust off the workbench and placed his lunch on the wood before checking out the mower.

It looked functional but in need of some repairs. Nothing that Dean couldn't fix himself with the right tools. He checked the drawers of the workbench and found the things he needed to fix the mower and began to work, eating his sandwich as he did.

Dean was so focused on sharpening the lawn mowers blades that he didn't hear Cas’s footsteps approaching from behind.

“Dean?” Cas called?

Dean jumped, startled by the sudden noise.

“Sorry for startling you Dean. I wanted to thank you for lunch.”

“Yeah, no problem buddy.” Dean replied, “I'm making chicken for dinner tonight if that's good with you.”

“Yes that's fine. Thank you.”

Cas left and Dean finished sharpening the lawn mower blades, leaving them on the workbench to attach tomorrow. He picked up his empty plate and headed back inside and dropped it in the sink.

Dean took a package of chicken breasts out of the fridge and placed them in a bowl. About 10 minutes later, the chicken was breaded and in the oven and he began to prepare the potato salad.

He loved to cook. When he was young, his father would drag Sammy and him from motel to motel. All they ate was take out or greasy diner food. Dean does love some good greasy burger and fries and a beer every once in a while but nice home cooked meals were always better.

Once Bobby took them away from John and his abusive parenting style, Dean learned to cook his own food in an actual kitchen. He would wake up early to make breakfast and insist on making lunch and dinner as well.

Dean pulled the chicken out of the oven and set some plates on the counter. He jogged up the stairs to Cas’s door, careful to be light on his bad knee, and knocked.

“Dinners ready!” He said before making his way back to the kitchen and filling up his plate with potato salad and sweet corn. He could hear Cas enter the kitchen and grab the other plate.

“It looks great, Dean,” Cas observed, “Thanks again.”

Dean set his plate down on the table and grabbed some cups from the cabinet before replying, “Yeah, it’s no problem, really. Do you want anything to drink?”

“Just water please. I haven't had anyone cook a proper meal for me since high school and I could never make one for myself due to my inability not to burn the food.”

Dean chuckled, “After my mom passed I didn't get a good meal till I was around 15, and those I would make myself.”

Cas stared at him, “Oh, I’m sorry.” He took the water Dean held out to him.

“Nah man, it’s fine. It was a long time ago.”

They continued to eat in silence for a while till Cas asked Dean, “You were only given 3 days notice that I was coming, yet you have the entire house unpacked and cleaned.”

“I, uh, didn’t sleep much. I wasn’t sleeping well so I made the best of a bad situation and used the time I was awake to finish unpacking.”

They both finished their meal in silence. Dean placed his dishes in the sink and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He sat back down at the table and looked over at Cas.

“So, tell me a bit about yourself.”

Cas’s blue eyes meet Deans. “I am 23 years old. I have an English major and plan on becoming a journalist. I have 6 siblings, 4 brothers and 2 sisters. I grew up in Colorado but moved to California for college, where I met your brother.”

“Hold on. You have 6 Siblings?” Dean gaped

“Yes, Dean. Micheal, Lucifer, Uriel, Gabriel, and Naomi are older and Anna is younger than me.”

“Man sibling rivalry must have been intense.”

“Our arguments were like war backed with all of heaven's wrath.”

Dean bursted out in laughter at that and took another drink of his beer. Cas stared at him with that adorable little head tilt squinting at him as if confused by Dean laughter.

“What about you?” Cas asked

Dean stopped laughing and looked at Cas, “My name is Dean Winchester. I am an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women,”Cas stared at him for a moment before Dean continued, “My mom passed when I was 4. I lived with my Dad if you could call what we did living for about 10 years until I was taken in by Bobby and Ellen. I worked as a mechanic with Bobby while Sam went to college until I decided to go to the military. I was there for 5 years until my knee got messed up and I was sent home.”

“Sorry, that must be horrible.”

“Nah man, it's fine. You get used to it and move on.”

“Is excessive drinking part of moving on?”

Dean stopped smiling and looked away from Cas. They sat in silence for a moment before Dean said, “Well I'm a bit tired, gonna head to bed.”

“Ok, Goodnight, Dean. I will clean up.”

He stood and left the kitchen. He was looking angrily at the ground in front of him as he went up the stairs. He didn't look up until he heard a quiet hissing in front of him.

The blood rushed out of his face and fear coiled in his stomach. It was back. The dark shadow was standing in the middle of the balcony. Dean couldn't get his legs to move. He was stuck. The shadow began to slowly glide towards him, reaching out a long arm-like appendage. He wanted to shout, to cry out for help but his mouth was just as stuck as his legs.

A rush of frigid air washed over him as it drew nearer. The black tendrils of its translucent arm reaching to his side, like it was going to push him over the railing.

“Dean, do you have any tupperware for the extra food?” Cas called from the kitchen.

Dean blinked and the shadow was gone. He shivered as the air began to warm up around him. Dean cleared his throat before replying “In the drawer by the fridge.” He ignored the slight shake in his voice.

When he tried to take a step forward, his feet moved like nothing had happened just seconds before. Dean went into his room and locked the door behind him.

Sleep. That's what he needs. He's just tired and that's making him see things. Everything will be fine tomorrow.

(If you want to be added to the tag list, just ask!)

@stuff-that-is-other

#pieces of heaven and hell

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queenscoolcat · 5 years

Note

um prompt 2 with roger taylor pretty please :)

Request are open so you could send one from this prompt list

Hope you like it, darling.

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Rader, Ben Hardy!Roger x Taylor

A/N: I don’t get why I keep doing these things so fucking giant, I can make a long ass thing for Queen but God save me if I had to write an essay, anyways… you know the drill, there are many spelling/grammar errors, so sorry.

“Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry.”

You have been Queen’s assistant since they started to get more famous, you knew Roger from college and since you needed some money, he offered the job.

Afraid that someday they could fire you for someone more qualified, you always made sure to do everything perfectly, if Freddie wanted an extravagant party your made sure that everything he wanted was there, if Brian stayed late at night in the studio you stayed with him as well no matter how late it got, if John wanted to send one of his letter to his girlfriend when they were on tour even though it was almost four am you still complied even when Roger wanted his tea with one and three-sevens of sugar you did it perfectly.

It was tiring always doing your job perfectly, sometimes it got to your nerves and you ask for a week off, of course they gave them to you, but after a couple of days later they begged you to come back.

Today you felt you really needed a vacation, you even thought of somewhere far away so they knew you couldn’t come back until it was time. But all those thoughts banished the moment you entered the studio.

Everything was a mess, there were papers everywhere and some instruments out of place showing that someone, most likely Roger, had through them.

You sighted and made them know you were here nobody answered and you sat on one of the tables that you made them put there so you could work.

“Y/n did you called Miami? You know how important it is that he solves the problem we had for the new album” Freddie said reading someone else song, he didn’t look at you and you know that he wasn’t in the mood.

“Yes, I told him this morning, he is still working on it” You replies as calm as you could knowing just a single thing could make everyone explode I this room.

“Fucking hell” Brian yelled and almost through the guitar he was using “y/n you know it is really important we solve this problem, you made sure Jim knew that.”

“Yes I made sure he knew that,” you said and continued doing some paperwork.

There seemed to be an awful atmosphere around everyone, and you prayed that something happens so you could get out off there.

“Y/n did you ordered the thing we asked you last week?” Suddenly Roger spoke and without looking at him you nod “where are they?”

“I send the list of your requirements to James if you want I can go and talk to him,” you said already standing up.

“Is there anything you actually do?” Roger said and you could hear everyone trying to suppress a laugh.

“What do you mean Roger?” You asked starting to lose your temper from all of their attitudes.

“I mean.. everything we ask you you always handed to someone else!” Roger said sarcastically and even no one said anything you could see they were on his side.

“My job is doing what you ask me, there is no specification that I, myself should be doing everything on my own,” you barely said with the little composure you had left.

“I mean he isn’t wrong" you heard Brian mumbled and you shot the dirties glance to him.

“I don’t think your job should be that hard if you always end up passing the blame to everyone else,” even John add a comment.

You feel like you could cry but you didn’t let them saw you that way, so you grabbed your stuff and walk towards the door.

“If my work means so little to you then I quit,” You said without looking at any of them but you knew all four of them were looking at you.

It wasn’t until you were on your car that you broke down, you wanted to go home but first, you went and bought a bucket of chocolate ice cream and a bottle of your favourite alcohol.

When you arrived home you quickly change to your comfiest outfit and sat on your sofa so you could cry, eat and drink.

You didn’t even turn the tv on, you just sat there and let all the event that happens run in your head.

You were probably sat there a couple of hours when you heard some keys trying to open the door, you froze on the spot and grabbed a baseball bat that you had for emergencies when you heard the person walk in you almost hit them in the head until you realised it was Roger.

“It is just me y/n” Roger almost scream when he saw you with the bat.

When you realised it was him you put the bat in its place and head back to your spot.

“I hope you are here to give my keys back,” you said not even facing him, you knew you couldn’t stand doing that.

The worst part of it, was that over the years that you knew Roger you started to develop a crush towards him you would never imagine that things would turn out as they did and just by that thought you felt tears starting to pile up again, you hugged your knees and hid your face between your legs not wanting him to see you.

“Just go… please” you said weakly trying to control your breath.

“No darling no! Please don’t cry!” Roger said as he sat near to you trying to hold you “Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry.”

“Stop saying those things, you clearly don’t mean them,” you said and cried a little more.

“Y/n, of course I mean them! You have been my best friend through all these years, I am so sorry that I hurt you,” you slowly look at him and he cleans your tears and handed you a tissue “we all have been jerks today and all of us are sorry.”

“Then why are you the only one here?” You ask trying your best to no cry more.

“They are all in the car, I just wanted to talk to you first and feel the ground,” Roger said with a little smile and you smiled as well “I really meant it, we all are so sorry but for me more than anyone else.”

You look at him with confusion in your eyes and felt your heart skip a beat when he grabbed your hand, you stared at your hands only to look at him when he spoke again.

“I didn’t mean to ask you this was but… I have been thinking and I want to ask you out” Roger said looking directly into your eyes “There is no pressure and you will still have your job if you don’t want to…”

“I still have my job?” You interrupted him and he laughs and kisses your hand.

“Love, we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you, if we don’t have you that would probably be the end of Queen.”

You couldn’t resist yourself and laugh out loud feeling way better at his comment, in part it was true but you would never say it out loud.

“I would love to then,” you said and felt confused by Roger surprised face.

“You would love that Queen was over?” He asked a little hesitant.

“Don’t be ridiculous Rog, I meant the date thing?” you said and both of you laugh again.

When you both were calmer he smile in your direction and started to lean towards you, you felt butterflies in your stomach at the anticipation and lean as well to kiss him back.

“Now that everything is settled maybe we should go out so the guy could apologise as well,” Roger said and kissed you one more time before standing up and taking you to the other guys.

#queen #queen imagines #roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #ben!roger taylor #ben!roger x reader #request #prompt list #m

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hearts-hunger · 5 years

Text

Stairwell ✧ Ben Hardy x Reader

Summary: When the fire alarm goes off in her dorm, reader has a panic attack in the stairwell and does the only thing she can think of to calm her down. When he hears her on the phone, Ben drops everything to come get her.

Pairings: Ben Hardy x reader // college au

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Panic attack, swearing

A/N: I was inspired to write this after very nearly having a panic attack in the same situation today, so it’s pretty angsty. But of course Ben is the sweetest and most chivalrous boyfriend ever, so it all ends up ok. Enjoy! ♡

Attention. There is an emergency situation on your floor. Please proceed to the stairwell or the nearest exit.

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the shriek of the fire alarm, followed by the robotic female voice that seemed to come from nowhere. You immediately felt your heart rate skyrocket - even though it was most likely just a drill, the swelling sound of the alarm made your stomach roll with anxiety. You stood from your desk and grabbed your keys and phone, hurrying out of your room. You came out of the room the same time that your suitemate came out of hers, nearly crashing into each other.

“This is so annoying,” she grumbled. You didn’t answer, overly aware of the sirens and the slamming of doors all down your hall. You followed her out the door of your apartment and to the stairwell, immediately met by the pounding of footsteps on floors above and below you echoing against the cinder block walls. You sucked in a breath as you started down the fifteen flights of stairs to the ground floor, suddenly realizing that you hadn’t grabbed shoes. The cold of the cement stairs seeped through your socks as you grabbed onto the railing, hugging the wall as you made your way down.

The siren continued to wail as people crowded the stairwell, their voices mixing with the sound of their footsteps and ringing even louder in your head. Between the noise and the bodies, the narrow, steep stairwell quickly drove you to panic. You looked at the number on the landing door - you still had thirteen floors to go before you could get out of here. You felt your chest tighten.

A group of people burst through the door on floor twelve, one of them nearly making you fall as he pushed past you in his haste. You tried to steady yourself; the moment you stopped making your way downwards, the flood of people pushed you to the wall and wouldn’t let you back in. You tried to keep going; everything was so fast and so loud, and you wanted nothing more than to get out of this stairwell that seemed tighter and tighter every passing minute. Your hands started to shake as you gripped the railing with white knuckles, unable to move forward or backwards. You were stuck.

You did the only thing you could think of to try and calm you down. Your fingers trembled as you called your boyfriend, pressing your phone to your ear and trying to make yourself as small as possible in the wave of bodies passing by you.

“Hello?”

Your breath came in a sob, tears coming at the sound of his voice. “Ben, it’s me.”

“Where are you, love?” you heard him say. “It’s really loud.”

“There’s a fire alarm,” you said, your voice ragged. “I can’t get out, there’s too many people - ”

“I really can’t hear you, sweetheart,” he said, worry coloring his voice. “Are you ok? Where are you?”

“I’m in the stairwell of my dorm,” you told him, struggling to raise your voice above the noise. You tried to inhale and felt as if a weight were on your chest. “Ben, please, baby, I want to get out.”

“The stairwell?” he repeated, confused. “What - oh, shit, is it a fire drill?”

“Yes,” you sobbed. “I can’t - it’s really loud - I can’t get out. Please help me.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said, his voice soothing even as it was sharp with worry. “I’m on my way. I’m coming right now.”

“Please hurry,” you begged. You noticed your fingers felt numb.

“I am,” he told you. “Deep breaths, love. Are you coming downstairs, or - ?”

“I can’t.” You’d only made it a few steps before panic seized you again, making you unable to go any further.

Attention. There is an emergency situation on your floor.

“What was that?” you heard Ben ask, thinking you had said something.

You didn’t answer, the metallic voice ringing in your ears. You felt lightheaded and sank to the floor, sitting on one of the steps and pressing as close to the wall as you could, the stampede thundering by you.

“What floor are you on, love?” he asked. His voice sounded far away.

You breath came in gasps between the sobs that wracked you mercilessly. “I don’t know, please hurry, Ben, I can’t breathe, I - ”

“Focus on my voice, sweetheart,” he said. “Can you do that for me? Try and block out everything else and focus on my voice.”

“I’m t-trying,” you said. Your own voice sounded muffled to you.

“Good girl,” he said. “It’s ok. You’re ok. Keep breathing, love.”

Over the overwhelming sounds around you, you heard another voice through the phone. Ben was talking to someone else, his tone angry.

“My girl’s up there,” he said away from the phone. “Please, she’s got a panic disorder, I have to go get her.”

After a second you heard him come back to you. “Ok, love, I’m on my way up.” You could hear the fire alarm through the phone now as well, and it made him nearly impossible to hear. He said something but it was lost in the cacophony.

“Ben?” you asked desperately. “Ben, are you there?”

He didn’t answer; you pressed your sleeve to your mouth, tears spilling down your cheeks as your whole body shook with fear. You knew Ben was coming but you could barely breathe, your heart beating painfully in your chest.

You opened your eyes when you heard a scuffle on the floor below you, different from the steady drum of footsteps in their downward march.

“Hey, watch it, mate!” came Ben’s unmistakable baritone, strained and fearful. A second later, Ben rounded the corner of the stairwell.

“Ben,” you sobbed, grabbing hold of him as soon as he was close enough. He muscled his way through the current of bodies to get to you, taking your hand in his.

“Come on, love,” he said, squeezing your hand. His chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths, tired out from running up twelve flights of stairs; his blonde curls were dark with sweat. “I’ve got you.”

Latching onto his grip like a lifeline, you followed him down the stairs, tucked safely behind him as his broad shoulders naturally parted the sea of people. He didn’t let go of you, checking back every few flights to make sure you were ok. You held onto the hem of his shirt with your free hand as he led you.

When you finally came through the door on the ground floor, he quickly pulled you outside and away from the mass of people that had gathered just around your building. His hands hovered close to you, not touching, afraid of doing something to make it worse. He studied you face, worry etched in his own.

“You’re ok,” he said breathlessly. “You’re out. What can I do to help you?”

Your expression crumpled as you started to cry again, relief and residual fear crashing through you. You went into his arms, burying your face in his chest; seeing you wanted closeness instead of space, he immediately wrapped his arms around you and held you tight.

“Ok, love, it’s ok,” he soothed, running a hand up and down your back. “I’m right here. You’re ok.”

You couldn’t stop shaking, pressing as closely against him as you could. He was warm and steady, protecting you from everything that threatened to make you crumble.

“Breathe for me, love,” he said gently. “Take a deep breath.”

You tried to do as he said, your inhale hitched by sobs. “I’m sorry, Ben.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m glad you called me.”

“I hate that I have to call you for things like this,” you said miserably. “I wish I could deal with it alone.”

He sighed. “I know,” he said. “I know you do, but you don’t have to.”

He pulled back a little and searched your face, his green eyes kind and concerned. “You did really well calling me and asking for help.”

You felt a wash of shame, feeling that you were more of a coward than anything. You should have been able to handle it by yourself. He shouldn’t have to go through all this trouble for you.

“Because I couldn’t do it by myself,” you said softly, tears running down your cheeks.

He put his hand to your face, catching your tears as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “No, love,” he said gently. “Because you didn’t let your fear control you. You knew you needed help and you asked for it. That takes a lot of strength, especially in the middle of a panic attack.”

You leaned into his touch. “Thank you for coming for me.”

“Of course, love,” he said gently. “Anytime.”

He pulled you close again and you leaned against him, finding comfort in his steadiness. He was your home, your safety; he had dropped everything to come rescue you, and he would move heaven and earth to be there when you needed him.

“I love you,” you said, desperate for him to know how deeply you meant it.

He rested his head against yours and tucked your hair behind you ear, his touch gentle and full of tenderness.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he said. “More than you know.”

#i hope you guys liked it :)#it's angsty but still fluffy #my favorite combination #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x reader fluff #ben hardy x reader angst #ben hardy fic #ben hardy au #college au #borhap boys fic #borhap boys fanfiction #maddie writes stuff!

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