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zepskies · 4 months

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Smoke Eater - Epilogue

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

AN: We made it, friends. 🥹

Word Count: 2,800 Tags/Warnings: Fluff and feels, that is all.

Epilogue: “Easy as Pie”

The week after the incident at Stull Storage, John, Sam, Dean, and Eileen sat down to a family dinner that you cooked in the brothers’ apartment. Aside from Eileen, all of you had injuries in one form or another (but even Sam’s shiner was healing up nicely).

For dessert, you were a bit nervous as you brought out a freshly baked apple pie. Dean caught you mentally bracing yourself before you set it down on the table. He shot you a reassuring smile.

“Looks great,” he said.

Your returning smile was tentative as you divvied out the first piece. Dean was just a bit disappointed when you handed it to John. His eyes followed the plate.

You smiled more genuinely, and made sure the next generous piece you cut was for your boyfriend.

After everyone was served, you sat down with your own plate and encouraged them all to dig in. Forks hit the crumbly top and cinnamon apple filling, and there were collective hums of pleasure throughout the room.

You brightened and glanced over at the rest of the table. John looked contemplative. His fork rested on the plate for a moment.

He gave a rare smile. “That’s some damn good pie.”

Sam nodded. “For sure.”

Dean looked over at you after he’d already demolished half of his serving. A smile spread across his face.

“Best slice of pie since I can remember,” he said, giving you a wink.

Both of you knew the weight of that review. It humbled you, making you blush.

You smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, rough with stubble.

“I guess this recipe’s a keeper then,” you said.

He hummed in agreement. When he went in for a real kiss, it was sweet indeed.

From then on, you all spent the evening talking, eating, laughing, with you and Sam drinking wine and everyone else their beer. You updated them on Andréa and Benny, who were planning their trip to Greece in a few months.

"We should take a vacation," Dean pointed out, gesturing around the table. "All of us."

Sam raised his brows at his brother. "Oh yeah? Where would you wanna go?"

Dean thought about it for a moment. He glanced at you, and found you smiling.

"The beach," he said. "Somewhere warm and chill, with those fancy little umbrellas in your drink."

"Hmm...I like that," you said, as your smile grew. Tropical, relaxing, a warm sun on your face, and your boyfriend in some board shorts. You could definitely go for some of that.

"Sounds nice," Eileen agreed.

"I'll look into some destinations," Sam nodded. Dean nudged his brother's shoulder.

"One word, dude. Maui."

Sam snorted. "We can't afford Maui."

"Hey, you never know, man! Time to check out some Groupons."

"You can't get a Groupon to go to Hawaii," Sam said. His face was scrunched in what Dean liked to call, his "Know It All" face.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean shot back. "There's a friggin' Groupon for everything nowadays!"

Of course, that devolved into a familiar sibling argument that was only disrupted when John broke into the conversation. He admitted something shocking—that he was taking some time off work, for the first time since he took his sons camping when they were kids. Sam and Dean teased the workaholic for finally "slowing down" in his old age, but it was all in good fun.

You and Eileen shared a knowing look. It all felt as close to family as you’d had in a long time.

And for Dean, it felt like he could breathe again. He’d gotten a text shortly after dessert—from Cas.

Jo made it into the Police Academy. She starts training in a few weeks.

Dean’s lips quirked with a smile.

How do you know?

I’ll be instructing a couple of her classes. Firearm Safety and Weapons Training.

Dean nearly laughed.

Good luck, buddy. Try not to get your ass shot.

To which Cas replied:

My ass will be nowhere within range, I assure you.

Dean did chuckle at that. When you turned to him and asked what was so funny, he just shook his head and grabbed onto your hand on the table.

“Nothin’. I’m good,” he said. He pressed your knuckles to his lips. “I’m real good.”

You smiled at that.

Later that night, Dean walked his father to the door while you and Sam were locked in a trivia game, and Eileen tried to play mediator between two very competitive nerds.

“Dad,” Dean said.

John stopped with a hand on the door, turning back to his eldest.

Dean paused to gather his thoughts, but he eventually grasped his father’s arm and met his gaze.

“Just wanted to say thank you, for what you did for her,” he said, discreetly nodding at you. He kept his voice quiet. “You protected her when I couldn’t.”

John paused, seeming surprised. His brows furrowed as he shook his head.

“You don’t need to thank me for that, son,” he said.

“Yeah, I do,” Dean insisted. He’d heard every bit of that conversation between John and Daniel in that warehouse. His father had been willing to lay down and die for you, not a moment’s hesitation.

Cas was right, Dean had realized. His father did have a line.

John let out a breath. “What matters is we made it here.”

Dean nodded, though he dimmed.

“Yeah, came with one hell of a price tag.”

It still weighed heavily on him, what he’d had to do to end Daniel Savage. In the end, John had lied on his statement of the events. He’d taken responsibility for grabbing Daniel’s gun and shooting him between the eyes.

“It’s the only thing I can do to keep you out of this,” John had told his son. “Should’ve been my hand anyway.”

Dean appreciated what his dad had done to protect him from the law, and his career, but it still made him feel dirty. A strike to his integrity as a first responder, and as a man. That was something he’d just have to deal with, along with everything else.

John distracted him, however, by gripping his shoulder this time.

“You saved my life, Dean,” he said. And with a hint of a smile, “It’s what you’re good at.”

Dean met his dad’s gaze. He wasn’t quite able to smile back, but there was new warmth in his chest.

“Oh,” said John, raising a finger. “Before I forget…”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a silver engagement ring with a small stone. To Dean, it looked familiar…

When it finally struck him what this was, he looked up at John in surprise. Dean glanced back to make sure you weren’t looking before he tentatively took the ring.

“Is this…Mom’s?” he asked.

John nodded. “The stone’s nothing special. You might wanna get it reset. Sam already figured out his uh…situation on his own. Maybe you want to find your own too.”

Dean knew what he meant. Sam had bought a ring last year, but he'd proposed to Eileen just a few days ago. They were already planning to get married a year from now, along with buying their first house together.

Dean examined the ring he held with a softer smile.

“Nah, it’s perfect,” he said.

He didn’t know yet if you two were ready for that step. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time…but he knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

He had time to do things right with you.

A few months later, Dean’s medical leave ended. He was physician-approved for duty, psych evaluation and all. He showed up for his shift bright and early.

He entered the doors of Firehouse 25 to a host of his friends and makeshift family cheering, complete with cheesy streamers and an even cheesier cake that Meg held. On the top was scrawled: Good Job Cracking Your Head.

“A smoke eater returns to the house!” Benny remarked with a grin. “Good to see ya, brother.”

He clapped Dean heavily enough on the back that it earned a grunt and a laugh out of him.

“You too, man,” Dean replied.

Meg set down the cake on the table and was the next one to playfully punch him in the shoulder.

“You have a nice little vacation?” she teased.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, complete with bottomless margaritas and little umbrellas.”

She smirked, but she was still earnest when she touched his arm.

“Welcome back.”

Dean chuckled. “Ooh, now I know you missed me.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes as she waved a dismissive hand at him. Chuck and Jack gave more sincere well wishes, with the latter actually hugging Dean. He’d tolerated it with a smile.

Gordon clapped him on the shoulder once Jack was finally done, and Dean sent the Candidate off with a bright smile on his face.

Gordon smiled. “Welcome back, Lieutenant.”

Dean nodded and shook the other man’s hand. “Thanks for holdin’ down the fort, man.”

“No problem,” Gordon said. “Any time you wanna go on sabbatical, you just let me know. Acting Lieutenant’s almost better than the real deal. It’s not as much paperwork.”

Dean chuckled, but before he could sling back a retort, the alarm went off. There was a working house fire downtown, according to the dispatcher in the overhead speaker.

Bobby appeared in the hall and clapped his hands once.

“All right, gear up. We’re startin’ off the day right,” he said. He gave Dean a look that was somehow both pleased to see him and stern at the same time. Bobby addressed him with a point of his finger.

“See me in my office before the end of shift,” he said. “We’ve got somethin’ to talk about.”

A few days later, Dean had the rare pleasure of welcoming you home from work on his day off. You trudged into the apartment with several bags and rolling a cooler behind you. He got up from the couch and grabbed some of the bags for you on your way to the kitchen.

“How did it go?” he asked, reaching out a hand to rub some flour off your cheek. You smiled brightly.

“Well, there was a little snafu with the mini quiche, but they loved the menu I proposed. They want me to cater the whole wedding!” you said.

“Whoa, that’s a lotta food,” Dean remarked. Once you’d dumped the rest of your stuff on the kitchen table, he slid an arm around your waist and brought you flush against him, earning a squeal from you.

You clung to his shoulders. “You still on for being my official taste tester?”

He stared at you with mock offense.

“Uh, obviously. Mini quiche are my weakness,” he teased. “Just another form of pie, far as I’m concerned.”

You giggled into his lips as he claimed you for a kiss. It was both sweet, and a bit naughty as his hands moved to squeeze your ass. His words were no less heartfelt.

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” Dean said. “I really am.”

You smiled and stroked his cheek in answer.

The Monday morning after that family dinner a few months ago, you’d quit your job at Savage & Co. After a month of wracking your brain and your savings, you decided to start your own catering business.

It was your way of starting small, to try and get people in this town to know you for your food and baked goods. And maybe, if you were successful enough, you’d be able to open up your own bakery in a couple of years.

For once, you were going after what you truly wanted…but now, your career was only part of it.

You hadn’t forgotten your conversation with Dean about what he wanted for his future: of getting married someday, and having a family. Something he could build for himself.

Not only did you want that for him, but you’d begun to crave that for yourself as well: a family of your own.

Realistically, you knew that part was years away for you and Dean. However, you had that in the back of your mind. Having your own business had always been your dream, but sometimes your dream could adjust.

Or, it could become something new.

You’d also sold your grandparents’ house. You had contemplated going back, but you didn’t want to be reminded of how the police and the Arson Department had torn it apart after Daniel Savage threatened your life. You didn’t want to be reminded of where both of your grandparents died.

You loved that house, but you also knew it was time to let it go…

Because you finally understood what your grandfather had tried to tell you months ago.

A house did not make a home. And now, you’d managed to make a new one.

For his part, Dean had been happy to have you stay in his apartment. Sam was getting ready to move out in a few months anyway, as he and Eileen were deep into house hunting and planning their wedding.

“So…I’ve gotta tell you something,” said Dean, after he parted from your lips for a moment, and allowed you to breathe. His tone made you tilt your head in suspicion.

“It’s nothing bad,” he said, though he looked a bit nervous.

Your brows furrowed. You led him to the couch, where he held your hands in his. It took him a moment to get started. He seemed stuck on what he wanted to say, or maybe just how he wanted to say it.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it,” you teased.

Dean gave you a smile. His shoulders relaxed a little.

“They want to promote me to Captain,” he said.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes went wide.

“They? Who’s they?” you asked.

Dean blew out a breath and scratched at the small scar on the side of his head.

“Apparently it came from the Battalion Chief.”

He explained that the Fire Department had gotten the full debrief from both Sam and John about Dean’s involvement in ending the serial arsons and murders committed by Nick and Daniel Savage. Without you and Dean, they wouldn’t have figured out Azazel’s identity, let alone stopped his criminal enterprise.

You smiled wide with excitement as you held Dean’s face in your hands.

“That’s amazing!” you said. You pulled him in for a hug. Though he held you back, you soon realized that you were happier than he seemed to be. You pulled back and carded your fingers through his hair, earning his gaze.

“What’s wrong, baby? This is great news!”

Dean’s lips pursed. “I don’t know. I broke ranks and defied a direct order at the Savage & Co. fire. And at the warehouse, I was even more reckless. I don’t want to be promoted for disobeying orders.”

You frowned at that, even as you continued to stroke through his hair.

“What did Bobby tell you?” you asked.

Once again, Dean sighed. He’d been called into Bobby’s office a few days ago, after his first shift back at 25.

He’d surprised the hell out of Dean.

“Did you break ranks that day, and put not just yourself, but Benny and the rest of your men in danger?” Bobby said. “You bet your ass.”

Dean averted his gaze. He stood with his hands drawn behind his back, willing to take whatever punishment the Chief saw fit.

“But,” Bobby continued. His fingers tapped on his desk, where he sat on the edge across from Dean. “It wasn’t fair of me to stop you from lookin’ for your girlfriend.”

Dean’s attention sharpened at that, and he frowned in confusion. Bobby didn’t apologize. Ever.

“Sir?” Dean asked uncertainly.

Bobby softened the slightest bit. He heaved a sigh.

The man was a widower, but he still wore his wedding ring. He toyed with it now on his finger.

“We could’ve radioed in with the other teams already at work. I could’ve paired half of your team with the top floor units. But in the heat of the moment, I made a judgment call,” Bobby said, leveling Dean with a look. “As a leader, you’ll continue makin’ mistakes. You’ll make the wrong call. It’s how you learn to keep leading that matters. And there ain’t a person in this house that wouldn’t have gone up to pull your fool head outta that fire.”

Dean stayed quiet in his discomfort. He still wasn’t entirely sure why Bobby was telling him all of this.

“That being said, this is coming from the top,” Bobby said. His gruffness was back. He took a folder off his desk and handed it to Dean. “Here’s the next step, if you choose to accept it.”

You were crying by the end of his story. Dean cupped your cheek and caught your tears with his thumb. You grabbed that hand and gently squeezed.

“He believes in you, Dean,” you said. “So do I. And it’s my turn to be so damn proud of you.”

Dean graced you with a smile for that one. Yours brightened. You moved off the couch and slid into his lap, twining your arms around his neck. Dean welcomed you with an arm around your waist and a hand sliding up your jean-clad thigh.

“Guess I’m gonna have to get used to calling you Captain,” you said with a smirk.

Captain Winchester, Dean considered, rolling the weight of it around in his mind.

He chuckled. “Okay, maybe I'm liking the sound of that.”

“Mhmm, that’s what I thought,” you said, shortly before you pressed your lips to his. He squeezed your hip while your deft fingers once again slipped into his hair. With each new kiss, Dean felt more of his uncertainty melt away.

A new thought occurred to him then. It made him start to grin against your lips, and you parted from him.

“What?” you asked in amusement.

Dean slipped a hand into his pocket, where he felt the outline of his mother’s newly resized ring.

“Hey,” he said. Your brows drew together in suspicion at the gleam in his eye.

“Hey, yourself,” you quipped.

Dean breathed in deep, steeling himself. He looked into your eyes, and he smiled.

“I’ve got a question for you.”

AN: ...And I think we all know what her answer was. ❤️‍🔥

I can't believe it! I started posting this story on September 15, the beginning of Hispanic Heritage Month. Almost four months later, we finally made it to the end of Smoke Eater. 🥹

Thank you to all of you who've been following along at any point of the journey. Your comments and feedback have truly touched me, and have helped keep me going! 💕

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @illicithallways

#Easy as Pie #Smoke Eater #Epilogue #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #john winchester #sam winchester #Castiel #zepskies writes

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wilbursoot-updates · 8 months

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Lovejoy are your new indie-punk obsession

Lovejoy is in this article!

There’s an undeniable link between Lovejoy and the internet, not only because the band’s reputation and success were built digitally, but due to the platform that frontman Will Gold had built from his streaming days. There, Gold developed a devoted fanbase and gained the trust and admiration of people who enjoyed who he was as a person. Gold then started premiering his original solo work on his Twitch channel, dipping his toes into the music scene while remaining afloat in his streaming career. Eventually, he founded Lovejoy.

But Lovejoy are so much more than Gold and his Twitch platform — it’s a combination of people and different tastes in music, perspectives, and understandings. Each member plays a pivotal role in the band, outside of playing instruments. “We’re all pooling different batches of influences. None of us like the same music,” bassist Ash Kabosu explains. The hardcore influence comes from Kabosu and drummer Mark Boardman and their desire for “more moshing” at their shows, whereas the love of funk-pop stems from Gold and lead guitarist Joe Goldsmith, mixed with Gold’s mutual adoration for Arctic Monkeys from an early age. The band’s fun, friendly relationship with each other bleeds into the one they have with their fanbase.

It was the middle of the pandemic, and while the streets were empty, and the news played distantly in the background, something big was brewing in the U.K. During those quiet days, Lovejoy, a Brighton-based outfit, would emerge. With an intoxicating sound that channels alt-rockers Arctic Monkeys and the Killers, Lovejoy also incorporate elements of hardcore music throughout their tracks. In the band’s words, they “find the sounds that we like and then elevate those ideas.”

Playing under pseudonyms in undisclosed venues and working furiously in studios, they became Lovejoy. Gold and Goldsmith founded the band after meeting in another folk group. Kabosu was later recruited in a Smashburger, and Boardman was hired on Fiverr, before being asked to officially join. The chemistry was immediate, Kabosu explains, “The very first day all four of us were in one place was when we were recording [debut EP] Are You Alright?” Their sense of humor was identical, and they were on the same wavelength. With Gold’s memorable past as a streamer and an already dedicated legion of fans, Lovejoy quickly rose from the chaos of the pandemic.

After their experimentation with different pseudonyms, this year showcased their first shows as Lovejoy. With a U.K. tour during March and an impressive festival run from all over Europe to the US, totaling over 15 individual festivals, earlier this year, the band are gearing up to finish the year off with an EU/U.K. tour featuring Good Kid, an indie-rock band from Toronto. The tour has already sold out — and Lovejoy haven’t even released an album yet. “Hold your breath. It’ll be worth the wait,” Gold insists.

The excitement over this quartet is palpable, as their addictive rock blend consists of double-kick drums, chugging basslines, and smooth melodies. While Lovejoy are neither technically hardcore nor punk, they tap into heavier techniques due to Kabosu and Boardman’s interests in bands like Linkin Park and Bring Me The Horizon. Kabous found Linkin Park as a kid and was “mindblown,” “My friend Jamie had just gone on holiday to the States, and he came back, and he was losing his mind over this CD that he and his dad had bought. It was Linkin Park’s Hybrid Theory.” And has been influenced ever since.

Their latest EP, Wake Up & It’s Over, showcases a blend of upbeat, angsty emo and emotional indie-rock tracks. “It’s not intentional, and it’s not specific,” Kabosu remarks about the blend of genres. The first track on the record, “Portrait of a Blank Slate,” was originally written by Gold as a way to distract people from COVID-19 and other recent disasters. “I tend to write about what I’m feeling, and what I know. I think life is just poetry happening. All around, I see it more as a reflection,” he says. The moody, dark bass introduction to the song sets up for the four-to-the-floor kick drum, riding the high hats, and intense cymbal thrashing in their chorus. “Call Me What You Like” discusses the eggshells in the beginning stages of a relationship, where both are unsure of their emotional commitment. With Gold’s poetic songwriting, painting pictures and imagery to allude to the true meaning of his words, the tracks show that Lovejoy have an ear for good melodies. “I think it’s just stuff that’s innate in us,” Kabosu elaborates. “Because it’s all that some of us listen to on a day-by-day basis.”

Yet, only two months before the release of Wake Up & It’s Over, Lovejoy released a record under the alias Anvil Cat. The EP, which featured rerecordings of songs off 2021’s Are You Alright?, was a forewarning, juxtaposing, the quiet, delicate nature of Anvil Cat’s EP and the crash and bang of their upcoming project. “At the time, we were about to release our third EP,” Kabosu explains. “We were building anticipation for that and getting people excited, teasing bits here and there. I felt like it would be a weird step to drop an acoustic EP.” But it was beyond just that acoustic EP — it’s for the future. “It’s nice for us to have this additional moniker, which is a separate entity, where if we wanted to try something a little bit different or make acoustic songs, we can put it over there,” he adds.

The relationship the band held with their fans was once considered unheard of. Consistently reaching out and engaging with their fanbase, realizing the power of their fanbase’s “clever” and “quick” intelligence and passion, and rewarding them with puzzles and QR codes — it’s all there if the fans choose. Anvil Cat’s acoustic EP is just an extension of that. “It’s for the people who are die-hard fans and really want to hear everything we do. It’s there for them,” Kabosu says. In modern times, that kind of friendly, open relationship between artists and their fans is common — something that was unachievable 20 years ago.

With a dedicated legion of fans already stacked in Lovejoy’s corner, developing during the midst of the pandemic, they’re barreling toward a future full of investigative fan interactions and shows around the world. COVID tested the band, and now, the positive outcome is touring the world.

#wilbur soot #lovejoy #ash kabosu #mark boardman #joe goldsmith #articles

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mvniro · 4 months

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. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 SPREAD YOUR WINGS TO TAKE POSSESSION OF WHAT'S YOUR'S ; a fyodor dostoyevsky fic.❞

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . holy shit i need to make an actual smut comeback. :/ @averagebsdenjoyer give your kids now.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; politician!fyodor, fem!reader, escort!reader, exstripper!reader, nsfw, boob biting, breast fucking, angst in some way and yeah that all i remember.

sin and lust ran around as they swirled with the wind, settled on top of the preety drinks and flowed inside the mouth of the one drinking, settling on their conscience before pulling out their courage to do what one wouldn't do normally and when the courage blindly took over and buried every emotion within, sin and lust giggled.

"here is your drink," you look over your shoulder to look at the bartender handling a customer their large glass of vodka, but before the customer could feel your eyes on them, you look back towards the dance floor again to continue observing the many intoxicated and sober bodies dancing, gridning against each other and doing lord knows what for the gobo lights above aren't really helping to look at each person and where their hands are.

you pull the silk robe closer to your body to make sure it is covering atleast till your midthighs as below them the eyes of those curious could only see your fishnet stockings and heels, kicking your legs as you hum for your customer to be here, but when you glanced at your phone screen a minute ago, you were waved at by disappointment of knowing the time and that he won't be here before half an hour, at his usual time.

being punctual is his style after all, the thought makes you smile which soon disappears when you feel perverted eyes of those around you trying to check you out and to find faults in your tied around robe to catch a glimpse of your skin which is meant to be reserved only for the man who can rival the greatest genius and defeat him pathetically.

you stand up from the stool with a small frown tugging at your lips, taking your phone from the black counter before you saunter away and on your way through the sidelines to avoid bumping into the slaves of lust and sin, your hand felt the tickling feeling as your phone vibrated and it felt the same when the man you are waiting for talks to you and you feel the same ticklish feeling in your stomach that your hand had the chance to experience right now.

tilting your head down to glance at the screen which illuminated to bring you hope and excitement, you read over the message quickly and cautiously yet it would've been fine even if you didn't since it seems as if you have it memorized like a prayer. the message which informed you of the arrival of the man in a few minutes.

you quickly turned on your heels to walk towards the bar again and when the dirt of perverted gazes tried to fall on your body, the shield of reassurance protected you from it. reassurance in the sense that the man who practically has ownership in a sense over you will be here quite soon, your hands work like those of a skilled craftsman as you put a bottle of dom perignon champagne in a bucket filled with ice while grabbing a white wine glass with the other hand before you make your way upstairs using the elevator permitted for staff and vip's only.

the bucket is heavy and hence why you placed it on the floor as soon as the elevator doors closed with you inside it, you turned to look and examine your reflection in the mirror behind to deem yourself ready to meet him. your leg bounced to excrete some ounces of excitement and anticipation out of your body.

as the elevator door opens to lead you into the world of lewd luxury, the stars from through the glassed walls twinkle in the sky but the moon pays them no heed and rather gazed down at the group of black cars driving on the empty roads for who else if not the rare percentage would drive on the streets at midnight, not those with tiring routines and families and not those with sorrows and despair but those who rules the night, the twinkling of the stars being the same as the shine of the silver ring on the svelte finger of the one who sat in the middle car.

the black coating of the car pays their respect to the sheet of black spreading over the night sky as if informing the sky that they aren't the rulers of night but the svelte man sitting in one of those five automobiles is, the same man due to whom your heart began to practice gymnastics and is now performing the flips etc., your futile attempts to calm your excited heart had only made your task of scanning your card on the door to unlock it difficult.

your foot took the lead by nudging the door to open after which you stepped in and immediately took off your heels, you closed the door behind you by nudging it against the door. the moment you place your feet on the soft red carpet, a gasp almost too inaudible had left your lips for the sensation traveled through the soles of your feet to your arms.

you had cleaned the table, the mirror to make sure it remains free of stains, lipstick marks and scratches for the man you serve had his face shaped by god himself who made sure to make the angels look at him in admiration of him and his creation and so, is it not appropriate to serve the perfect man (in your eyes) with the same perfection he always wears on his body?

your hands glided over the leather purple couch to smooth it of its roughness if there is any present as the staff before you made sure to deem this room appropriate for you, the maiden, and now you are doing the same for the swan you stumbled upon once but what made the swan stand out was it wasn't the traditional white one but a black one. yet it served grace as generously, if not more, as the white swan.

you are the ballerina with the way your feet glided across the room from one corner to other as you made sure to scan and evict any little flaw you find in it and after a few minutes when the room was utterly begging for the man it got ready for to grace it with his presence though the room had the wind flowing through the opened window as it's comfort when you began to wear your heels again, the see through white curtains covering the opened windows flowed inwards a bit to distract the room from its temporary dolour when your hands held the edge of the door to pull it with you to close the door as you left.

your phone screen illuminated with brightness of euphoria and as the light fell on your skin, you found your heart get more excited for perhaps your phone's brightness falling on your face in the dim hallway had transferred its euphoria inside you and maybe this theory could be taken to explain why you felt a sudden desperation to reach the entrance as soon as possible to be the first one on whom his eyes fall upon.

and so, in this state of frantic joy, you opted for the stairs instead, skipping one at a time as you quickly skipped downwards with only one goal in your mind ; to reach the bottom of the staircase to make your heart be even more frantic in anticipation and as soon as you skipped over the last step, you did not continue your journey forwards towards the main entrance which is usually where the entry is permitted from but the man we are talking about is not a ordinary man.

status wise, intelligence wise and lookwise -- even adonis would feel green in envy and feel the nimble hands of insecurities seduce him when he gazes into those purple pools of hypnosis which are far more powerful then any spell or magical orbs.

but what does he not know that you do? what makes your head raise high in pride of knowing the secret that not even adonis knows about the man he would surely envy?

the not so ordinary man became one after trials and errors and practices and more practices till he become one with the soul of a mad artist who painted with his fingers and when he saw the absence of red on his palette, he was driven to stab his finger and use his own blood as paint, the not so ordinary man who entered every time from a different route and it made you question how he knows more about this place then you, someone whose nights and evenings pass here, does.

so to explain why you were going towards the back doors can be explained with the childish desire to catch him off guard, impress him by being one step ahead of him which happens once in a blue moon and maybe this is why he always played the part of the passionate charecter who loved his passion even after said passion wounded him and left him unable to walk into the same field again.

you are said passion and you hurt him by making it hard for other women to be on the same caliber as you, to be as pretty as you in his eyes and to make him crave the time of the day to spend with them the way he does with you.

your hands find themselves seeking comfort by pinching on your forearm as you stand patiently infront of the two big doors with bulky men on either side who greet the celebrities and other important and rich figures who can not enter through the front entrance but when minutes pass by with the ticking of the clock, your mind scrambles to pinpoint a reason for his absence after his appointed time had passed and after the most excruciating five minutes of standing in the middle of the stage of loneliness and being guided across it by your rationality, your phone beeps and you do not even need to tilt your head down to look at it to know what it says, the announcement of the victory of the man once again.

it is when you turned around that you were approached by his guard who bowed, handed you a shopping bag of an expensive brand and left as if he had been performing an act with the way his movements were precise, not an ounce of confusion in his movements but you were the opposite.

perplexity told you to tilt your head down to examine the bag on whose handle was a shining ring attached with a paper, you made your way towards the elevator while wearing the ring in your ring finger for the presence of the diamond wasn't your source of confusion as the man had told you last night of his desire to give you the ultimate gift, his proof of his possession over you and with the way the lights of the elevator made the ring glimmer, the man clearly didn't care enough to take your refusal of being gifted such an expensive ring, into consideration.

the paper which you handled with perfect fragility made you wonder how he never felt worry and burden when handling and treating you for with every movement of your finger, your fear of ruining the paper only grew but when it finally opened to show you what was written in it, your worries and fears left and were instead replaced by the strong adoration which dangerously sat close to your rationality.

in the paper, were simple but firm words which left no room for confusion with the way they were so clear, the words read ; 'do not open the bag until an hour before i return tomorrow and if you do, it would be disappointing for me to know how my angel went against me. be good like you always were, for me and only for me always, angel.'

the elevator doors opened but you didn't step out, expectations of the man who is the expectation of god himself, rested its hand on your shoulders and flicked at your heart before it pushed you forwards slightly to make you step out and you did, blinking, you placed the paper inside the bag without looking down at what it contained.

your heart thumped, blood rushed through your veins and your hand fixed for any imperfections varying from any possible ruffles in your silk robe to any stray strand of hair that could've gone out of place during your entire journey to the entrance and back upstairs again.

you stopped, closed your eyes to be in peace for a short moment while you take a deep breath before opening your eyes again and unlocking the door using your card.

"the man of great promises has wowed the crowd again with his extreme ethics and mannerisms and with the results of today's conference, it is safe to assume that fyodor dostoyevsky and his party will be the one thriving on top in the upcoming elections next year, what do you think? --"

the voice of the television was lowered using the remote when the man heard the door open and he immediately looked at who entered not because he wanted to know who entered, he already did, but because his purple irises were dying to catch a glimpse of you.

"mr.dostoyevsky," your voice always sounded so soft and tempting whenever it pronounced his name, you were born to call his name, weren't you? you closed the door behind you as you approach him.

and there is he who killed his former self to be this being of perfection, killed his flaws to paint over them with the pride of being perceived as flawless instead and the man whose grace is in his smile and the pigment of his irises.

the sight of the man sitting with one leg crossed over the other, elbow propped on the armrest of the couch on which his cheek rested as he silently checked you out, always made you acknowledge your pussy clenching around nothing but tonight there is no room for mistakes and for imperfections for if its your last night serving the man, you want it to be perfect and leave an imprint on his heart so strong that no one else can recreate this scene and this night.

the stakes has never been higher, it's everything on the line tonight. it's the promise to yourself to show this man that no one can compare to you as well like how none can compare to him but he knew that, ever since your second night of serving him. he has known and lived with the fact since then.

"my angel." voice flowed like the waves of an ocean, peaceful yet powerful. and did it make you the fish swaying with the waves as you took the bottle of dom perignon and the white wine glass before approaching him? maybe it did but perhaps you are the leaf blowing with the wind which is fyodor. always so ready to flow in whichever direction he leads you to.

the man ruling your heart and thoughts wore a black turtle neck tucked in black pants and a white jacket over it which was falling on his elbows now, the purple lights falling onto his face gave him the crown to make the mortals of imperfections to fawn over his greatness. he raised his hand before bending his index finger to beckon you over, running a hand through his hair as he saw you slowly saunter towards him like a tiger walking towards the unsuspecting swan only for the swan to fly away.

fyodor sat straight before spreading his legs apart and you took your seat on the carpeted floor, between his legs as you opened the bottle and poured him his favorite drink into the glass before you raised yourself on your knees and gently brought the glass near his lips.

none made the effort to talk for this fleeting silence should be felt in every pore before the beginning of the night which both look forwards to.

a gulp containing your deepest desires was pushed down your throat when fyodor parted his lips and wrapped his hand around your's, tilting the glass to allow the liquid to flow into his mouth, does he not know how his simple action is affecting you?

he does or else he wouldn't had pushed the glass towards your lips, "drink, you like it, don't you?"

and who are you to refuse him who is staring down at you with a glint of gentleness you are so depraved of?

parting your lips with the intention of allowing him to pour the drink into your mouth was intrupted by the light shining and reflecting the diamond of the ring on his ring finger, the design not varying much if compared to your's and this intruption resulted in you raising your other hand to stop his hand from tilting the glass towards your mouth, your hand felt unfortunately like a succor in times like this, nights lights this where your heart became one with the gnawing defeatist in the back of your mind.

"excuse my sharp tongue but have you no shame, mr.dostoyevsky?" what began with a saccharine tone is the sentence whose meaning and purpose is mockery to soothe the wound in your own heart by craving shallow ones in his own.

"you are to be married tomorrow yet you gift me a ring? is the politics you are such a master of, being pulled in your real life as well? what do you attempt to prove by wearing a ring similar to this one?" you tilt your head in a silent jeering way but had he been the one to allow someone else to have the upper hand on him?

no, absolutely not. for fyodor dostoyevsky doesn't work that way. he doesn't work according to others but makes a plan so impeccable that nature bends itself to work according to him.

the hand of the black swan got a hold of your jaw which he tilted upwards before pouring the drink into your mouth and you wonder if politicians have mastered the act of pretense more then actors or why would his eyes hold adoration for a man of his caliber and especially for someone like you?

"what is shame after all angel? we are all born shameless, are we not?" the spokesperson of his party began but not in a tone of smartness and respect but in one which loosely hangs around the thin line of adoration in the form of a coo and amusement in the form of a playful smile.

"we develop shame, do we not?" you retort though your resolve isn't worthy of being called one for the way your irises followed fyodor's thumb which caressed your bottom lip.

"i am shameless then i suppose? but what's so wrong in being shameless for an angel like you? you, my cruel beauty, makes me feel as if i am drunk. one look at you and the world is blurry for me. i am the politician but you are my greed." words weren't words.

voice of a siren, the face of a swan but the determination of the devil. sumptuous and unreal, he is the greatest creation of god and the greatest envy to mankind. for fyodor is simply the miracle which can never occur again.

the words leaving his lips wrapped around your body and stopped you from looking away from him. the politician and his greed.

beauty is in the eye of the beholder till the beholder is the beauty.

the black swan is the black swan till you catch a glimpse of the tiny white spot on the back of his wings and then you start to wonder of who he was before being this man who wore perfection like his second skin and this curiosity makes fyodor weak in his knees.

to be desired is one thing. to be wanting to see him in his rawest form is another.

"stop flattering me mr.dostoyevsky. tell me what can i do to make your last night with me unforgettable." you smile up at him before you felt fyodor's hand slip down towards your throat before he gripped it, gently for he never treated the greed he chased after wrongly, before pulling you towards him as your hands fell on his thighs to offer some stabilization to yourself.

"last night? indeed i am one with politics for one lone reason. do you want to know what it is?" he asked, kissing the tip of his index finger before he placed it against your painted lips.

"yes mr.dostoyevsky." you breath out before parting your lips to take his finger in your mouth, swiring your tongue around its length and imagining it to be his dick. fyodor smirked, eyes narrowing in amusement.

"because no one knows what i know. they know and believe what i want them to, including you." fyodor shuts his eyes close as he groans lowly, the way your inner cheeks could be felt by every inch of his finger when you sucked on it made blood rush to his cock.

"uh huh. won't ya be a doll and tell me about it mr.dostoyevsky?" you blink, looking up at him through under your lashes and due to his finger in your mouth, your voice and words come out muffled and lord, oh lord, is this making fyodor go crazy.

"doll? am i your doll angel?" fyodor smiled down at you as he took his finger out to let you talk, lithe hands now working to untie the knot on your robe.

"i only had one doll in my life and even that was stolen by a bully. so to call you doll is to make it clear to myself that you, --" you stop to gulp as the robe is gently pulled off your shoulder and you remain in your violet lingere set.

"go on angel." fyodor whispered in mocking encouragement as if he didn't know the effect his fingers kneading into your shoulders is having on you.

" -- though you never actually belonged to me, would be taken away from me as well." you complete your words bitterly but it is soon forgotten when fyodor takes one of your hands to place it on top of his hardened cock.

"don't belong to you? angel no one could make me hard unless its you." he rasped out, closing his eyes as you caressed his clothed dick with your fingers while you looked up to drink in his reaction.

"don't marry tomorrow then mr.dostoyevsky, please? i would hate to see you returning as someone else's man and i would hate it even more to be assigned to someone else." you tell, eyes softening as you admit your feelings to him who looked down at you before grasping your jaw and caressing the curve.

"you trust me, don't you, angel?" he asked and for a moment, fyodor's eyes fell on the tv screen which showed his conference from today morning in which he is seen walking up the stage as his black suit made him look posh and handsome.

"what if i didn't mr.dostoyevsky?" you try not to smile by biting your inner cheek for the man above you has the ability to turn your anger towards him into vapor but you calling his name grabbed fyodor's attention as he looked down at you again and when he smiled, you were reminded why you felt so bitter the entire day, why you wanted to rush down to be the first one to greet him and why you jeered at him just now ; the gentle and seductive smile and those nonchalant eyes as if no one could touch him is what made you freeze the first time as you stared at him before realizing that the man you were serving for all these nights is the one you fell for.

"that's a pity but i still want you to have some faith in me, to trust me and sign a few papers. can my angel do that for me?"

'my angel' is a term which made you go weak in the knees, your heart fluttered as it poked fun at your brain and proudly exclaimed its victory and you melted, nodding.

for you weren't 'his angel' if you didn't have blind faith in him and his action and if you didn't think of him to be greater then the seven wonders of the world.

bitterness was taken over by love and admiration. jealousy was over thrown by lust and a need of praises.

"let me pleasure you, mr.dostoyevsky. you worked so hard today, looked so preety today." your hand traced his belt before you begin to unbuckle it and fyodor gave you all the freedom you required by spreading his legs as his arms went around the back of the couch he is seated on.

"i looked preety?" fyodor asked in amusement as he looked down at you with one eyebrow cocked, his stomach felt like it was in the middle of a hurricane of butterflies when you pulled his zipper down after allowing his cock free from the shackles of the belt.

"the prettiest and smartest." you smile, trying not to chuckle as you look up at him, you couldn't focus on anything else when fyodor leaned down towards you, head tilted.

"are you talking about yourself angel?" fyodor teased, to hide the pale pink flush on his cheeks by flicking your cheek with his finger and it was your turn to be hugged and have shyness to cling to you.

instinctly, you felt your body leaning the tiniest bit forwards to feel more of his touch on your skin.

"i was talking about you mr.dostoyevsky." you mumble, looking at him who playfully widened his eyes before his eyes looked down at your clevage and then back at your eyes.

eyes who saw too much desire of others towards him were now filled with it themselves as he let his eyes linger onto your lips and wonder how would it feel to kiss you. then as if your clevage asked for attention, a imaginary force tapped fyodor and reminded him about your breasts which he glanced down at and the next movement of his hand tapping at the strip of your bra had you gulping.

"take it off for me, angel?" fyodor's voice is low, soft yet it isn't nervous in the slightest. he knows what he is asking for and he knows what your answer will be.

"why should i?" you raise your eyebrows at the man who snickered before his supple fingers took the leadership by hooking itself under your bra strap and pulling it before letting it smack against your skin.

soft gasp gave rise to titillation to transform into utter and raw intoxication. the soft pout on your lip as you looked up at fyodor made him realise the growing frustration of his hardened dick.

"because i am asking so, angel, do you really even need another reason?" he breathed out, leaning down to twirl a strand of your hair on his finger as his eyes refused to look away from your face.

"mr.dostoyevsky." you nearly mewl, why is this one man and his stare playing with the chord of your heart and giving arousal freedom to imagine whatever it wants to?

black, black swan who is tainting the white swan, why do you feel satisfied and not grief?

does it not satisfy you to see the white swan at your feet every night that you try to reach feats no one else could? for no one could do what fyodor dostoyevsky can to sum it up in brief.

"hm?" fyodor hummed before he smiled upon watching you clumsily fumble with your bra to remove it but the hard and hungry stare of the man is proving the task to be more difficult then what it originally is.

"please tell me how i can pleasure you." you did not need to tell twice for once the words left the cage that is your mouth, they were free and rioting in the form of being chanted multiple times in the back of fyodor's mind.

"oh shit, how can i marry someone else when this is all your doing?" fyodor pulls his dick out, lifting his hips to remove his pants till they are left hanging on his knees and his words were only being understood now when your eyes were staring straight at the hardened and angry dick dripping with precum.

"you say this but aren't you marrying someone else tomorrow?" you bite your lip in sudden pleasure when fyodor leaned forwards to pinch your nipple between his cold index finger and thumb.

"i am marrying tomorrow, yes." only giving a glimpse of itself, the black swan teases the nature and fyodor teases you with his vague answers -- they aren't vague to the normal ear but you who saw the reminants of the white swan within him loves to observe him the same way a marine biologist studies the biology within. it may kill you but lord, do you care when the addiction of figuring something in him out is the greatest satisfaction of them all.

"i've served married men before but you were someone i wished would always remain a bachelor, i am being unprofessional --"

"absolutely not." fyodor intrupted you as he tilted your head up to stare at him with his index finger on your chin before he told the declaration of lust within you and within him to begin taking over, "i love you showing possession over me. go on angel, let everyone passing by know who it is that can get me so worked up."

slender fingers traced the outline of your underboob, "gotta show everyone why you are my favorite, no? you are the only woman who ever touched me and you dare get upset with me?"

he playfully scoffed before fondling with your boob while your hands slithered up like wines to grab his cock which you pumped a few times -- all the while his eyes stayed on you and your's on him.

"mr.dostoyevsky, flattering will get you no where." you smiled, teasing the man who always left you a breathless mess and your toes curled when fyodor leaned down to lick below your lip before he planted a soft kiss. he always did it, kissing dangerously close to your lips but never your lips for the man did not want to have intercourse before marriage and this is what got you especially riled up. you were the one covered in his cum, tasted his cum, the first woman who gave him a blowjob and what not but you won't be the first woman to kiss him. ironic.

"and actions will?" fyodor smirked before tapping your other, neglected boob and you took the cue, your hand abandoned his cock to hold your boobs and push them to give him the invitation.

fyodor placed his dick between the valley of your boobs which would soon be experiencing the ending of the drought.

"actions will." you confirm though if compared to him, your voice is breathless and as you push your boobs together to trap his dick between your flesh, he too, felt the same hand of desire pulling the breath out of his throat harshly.

you began to move up and down as your hands made sure to hold your boobs close in a way that squeezes his dick between them and try to imitate the way it would probably feel to have your walls clamping around him and the pleasure builded up slowly. fyodor groaned and ran a hand through his hair before he gripped the roots and tilted his head back.

a shaky hissed left his lip when you brought your face down to kiss his sensitive tip before you licked it.

fyodor's eyes remained screwed shut as he brought his hand forwards to wrap it around the base of his cock and pump it to stimulate even more pleasure.

your eyes widened and lips parted, staring up in admiration and adoration at the man whose hair fell and sticked to his forehead, eyes may have remained closed but the parted lips of his which gave way to the hisses and grunts of pleasure was the main attraction anyway.

you then looked down to see the tip of his dick disappear between where your boobs met before appearing again and the cycle repeated, the sight of eroticism making you clench your own thighs and move up and down slightly to feel the fabric of your panties press up against your aching cunt.

fyodor opened his eyes, his pace increased and with the other hand, he traced shapes on your collarbone before grabbing your shoulder in a strong grip as he gasped softly, ropes of cum shooting out and painting the canvas of your skin, the cum trailed down your boob before nestling against your nipple.

black swan, oh, black swan, falling victim to your desires?

he is.

how does it feel to be caressed by the very same emotions you once tried to kill within you, oh, black swan, the lover.

fyodor's fingers wrapped around your wrist before he pulled you up into his lap, mouth immediately attacking your nipple as he sucked on it, nibbled and only got more encouraged when you whined out, your hand couldn't stop itself from following the demand of your heart which told it clearly to grab his hair in a gentle grip, the action had fyodor humming in approval.

the other hand played with the cum dripping down your chest before you swiped some of it with your finger to put it in your mouth and suck it, looking at fyodor with faux innocence and the sight of the man gulping made you lick your lips.

white swan, oh, white swan, seducing the black swan is your job not your life purpose yet why do you work so hard as if it's your only purpose?

black swan, be flawless and love her and let the white swan be possessive over you.

and white swan, be the one to look past this fake flawless-ness and watch the otherworldly being submit to his humanity.

fyodor's teeth sinked down on your flesh not hard enough to cause a serious or painful injury but just hard enough to imprint his teeth mark on your boob, which he licked afterwards in a cheap apology to soothe the pain. but nothing about the man himself is cheap so even if his attempt is considered as cheap, the emotions it sturred inside you were rich in every way.

fyodor then leaned back, his fingers spread the cum on your chest before he scooped some up on the tip of his index finger and brought it up to your lips which you parted to let him push his finger into it, resting it just above your wet appendage and pressing down a bit as his eyes got serious to lead to the beginning of the momentous event.

"before anything else, let me tell you what to expect tomorrow. it'll surely be a eventful day, no?" fyodor's amused smile was met with your eyes being blinked once due to the obstruction in the form of his slender finger inside your mouth but before he continued further, it is absolutely important to know why he sticked his finger into your mouth.

the black swan spreads it's wing to charm the white swan, to enthrall it before it brought its magnificent show to an end. the reason for this boastful action was to gather the utmost attention of preety white swan.

"you won't need to do much, angel. just make a decision tomorrow. there will be two documents and it's all on you to either sign it or not." and he finally pulled his finger out when your eyes pleaded him to let you speak.

"will you come tomorrow, mr.dostoyevsky?" your voice came out raspy, breathless and it cracked, not due to sadness but due to the numbing effect his fingers pressing down on your tongue had on you.

"do you want me to?" he pushed himself to be a bit near you while he removed his jacket and placed it over your shoulder, expertly avoiding having the cloth collide with his cum still dripping down your collarbones and chest.

"i do." you confirm to let the man raise his eyebrows cockily but the sight doesn't annoy nor humiliate you but makes your heart swell in adoration, your eyes falling on your bare shoulders which were now covered with his jacket.

and what pain is plucking it's own feathers when the white swan looks so good with your feathers around its head like a crown, oh black swan? the satisfaction is greater then the pain for you, no?

"wear this. my heart is your's anyways so why not take my jacket as well?"

you snorted, rolling your eyes.

"mr.dostoyevsky, i think you should stick to politics." you joked but the white swan was the earlier stages of the black swan, what white swan does, black swan already did.

"and i think you should stick by my side. don't you, as well? i hope you make a choice you won't regret tomorrow angel." cruel.

oh cruel man, why do you speak so seriously yet kiss your angel's jaw at the same time as if you don't want her to focus on your words but just on the feather like feeling of your lips on her skin for the slightest second.

cruel, cruel man yet oh so ethereal too.

"once again, i'll remind you that two documents will be offered to you and it's your choice to either sign them or tear them. your actions tomorrow will change things greatly, angel." the cruelty continued of the temptation packed into the body of the russian man and his each touch ignited a sense of euphoria on your skin and his words were left with half given attention.

till the event he had foreseen since long ago came to life.

you wrapped fyodor's jacket tighter on your body, smiling to yourself as it still smelled like him. his rich cologne still lingered on the jacket and hugged you to provide you with a sense of stability in the otherwise unusually quite club an hour before its usual opening time. the bag he gifted you yesterday contained a white lacy lingerie set though the curiosity remains to haunt your thoughts with the question -- is this a farewell gift or can you really expect to see him tonight as well?

to see the bustling and lively place look so quiet as staff quickly worked to clean it and organize everything for another night of unconfined emotions is a sight you got used to but still felt weirded out with as your undivided attention went to every inch of the place and noticed every inch which would usually be crowded.

though the way someone bumped into you to make you stumble a few steps forwards was quick to make you scowl and forget about the club and its loneliness just one hour before its opening, you turned to look at her. the hunter and the bully.

the manager and the most sought-after stripper of the club.

"we found you at last!" she rolled her eyes in a exaggerated fashion and you did the same to let her know the annoyance is mutual.

"girls." the clearing of the throat of the manager made both of you to immediately snap your heads towards him who nodded once in what seemed like satisfaction at the obedience and discipline shown.

"mr. fyodor dostoyevsky just submitted his last cheque to our club. a last donation cheque. you know what it means, don't you?" he didn't ask to anyone in particular but the girl beside him widened her eyes in mild surprise.

"he won't be coming back? did he find a new club or?" she asked the manager but you took his chance to reply, answering,

"he must've gotten married by now. he is a married man. he won't mingle with the likes of us anymore." you clutch the hem of his jacket as you raise your eyes to look at your manager, "who will i be assigned to next?"

taken aback by your rapid ability to move on and past the man you've you've serving for the past six months or so, the manager took a moment to gather himself before he nodded but before he could let a word out, the attention was grabbed by fyodor's secretary who walked with two guard behind.

you watched for the next five minutes with utter confusion at the manager and secretary exchanging greetings and words before the manager nodded and stepped aside to let the messenger of the man you love to walk towards you, he greeted you and you reciprocated before he dropped the pin in the lake.

"sir told me to directly give these papers to you." the secretary bowed before offering you a file and a pen he came with and took a step back.

his words made sense now. but they didn't.

you understood the overall situation but it was only the outer layer and the inner layer is yet to be discovered but how? when you don't know which decision will enable you to do so.

and what did you do in times of dilemma?

you did what you were told to many times, to put your trust in the black swan and watch him pull the strings without moving much other then a single finger of his hand.

you anxiously pulled on the sleeve of the white jacket before approaching the nearest hard surface which happened to be the bar counter before you opened the file and signed the first document on the signature space, doing the same with the other document.

this is a trial. a test. to not give in to your selfish or well instinctive desires to read or atleaat skim over the writings of the document is to prove your utmost faith in fyodor whose reward remained a mystery but the end results didn't matter while in the journey with fyodor.

"here." you softly utter and turn back to hand over the file to the secretary but to your surprise, your heart beats as you see fyodor approaching you with rushed steps, one hand loosening the tie around his neck.

but according to the news channels, he was supposed to be getting married at this hour, did he walk off from his wedding?

it's selfish. but the thought made your heart flutter and you couldn't help or overcome the nervousness that took over you.

". . . i trust you, i signed it mr.dostoyevsky." you inform and watch the man nod breathlessly and you wonder what's gotten into him with enough strength to take his breath away?

desire. utter raw desire.

"good, i declare you my wife from here on angel."

you saw the manager and fyodor's secretary widen their eyes before your eyes were forced to close when fyodor caught your wrist which holded the files and quickly pulled you towards him to slam his lips against your's, the papers flew out of your hands but fyodor didn't care.

the hunter watched the swans dance and looked at its partner who had dropped the pin in the lake, to see the latter capturing pictures without looking taken aback.

the manager watched with surprise as the bodyguards and secretary ushered people out of the entire floor.

while fyodor grabbed your waist to lift and place you on top of the counter, lips moving against your's before you parted your lips to whine but the opportunist took the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth.

the girl walked forwards to grab the fallen down papers and she stood straight while keeping her eyes on said papers.

one was a marriage certificate and another was your official resignation letter from the club with the addition of the threat of fyodor's name attached next to your's. and anyone and everyone who worked close enough to the upper class society knows how foolish it is to claim their authority over someone or something whose name has the name of a strong influence next to it.

the girl, the bully, who was she infront of the power named fyodor dostoyevsky?

no one and it was made clear by the way she didn't protest when said man's guards ushered her away as well to let fyodor have the entire floor to himself. he rented it out after all.

"mr.dostoyevsky." you gasp when fyodor separated from you, his half lidded eyes was drawn to the string of saliva connecting your lips to his and he was overtaken by desire again which made him attack your lips ; a lick to your upper lip before he began to nibble on your bottom lip for a while till you pulled him closer by grabbing his black suit coat, fyodor pushed his tongue inside your mouth again and if french kissing is considered sexy then fyodor is certainly doing justice to the claim.

at the same time, his hand went down to unzip the jacket before he pushed it back a bit to flick his finger against your stomach.

fyodor separated from the comfort of your lips to lean towards your ear and whisper, "good choice angel but i thought you didn't trust me? yet here you are, signing the papers without even missing a beat, oh angel --" fyodor sighed out fondly yet his tone remained cocky and amused, " -- always such a good girl for me."

". . .you are crazy, mr.dostoyevsky. absolutely unbelievable." laughing in relief is a short term gesture before fyodor had picked you again and you wrapped your legs around his waist at the sudden action, with widened eyes you watched as he led you towards one of the couches and laid you down.

"told you i would be getting married today but perhaps i forgot to tell you that you were the bride. oh, how can i forget so?" he smiled down, his hand pulling his zip down.

. . . and you are the first woman to kiss him as well. the realization made you smile as you close your eyes.

"not a chance angel, open your eyes and watch your husband satisfy you."

━━━━━━━ 💋 end.

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fefairys · 6 months

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"The way Vriska introduces herself to John says everything about her, and about their relationship, and really, her relationship with everyone. She forcefully interrupts a moment that is deeply important and emotional to him, thereby probably denying that opportunity from ever happening again, just so she can insert herself into his life and force him to pay attention to her. Now here she is again, being kind of rude (e.g. calling him stupid), but more than that, being vaguely obsequious overall, which is something about her I was harping on in the last book. Vriska cozies up to certain kinds of people, namely those she wants something from or feels will elevate her status by association. John's the perfect mark for the manipulative, ass-kissing games she plays. Since we're in the Vriska Zone now and forever, I'll just keep talking about her. It bears more examination of how her manipulation strategy seems to deftly blend ass-kissing and aggression. Successfully manipulative, sociopathically charismatic people tend to have this balance down to a science. The strategy seems to involve controlling the interplay between flattery, appealing to common interests, charming or flirtatious rhetoric, and little jabs, negs, or outright insults to keep the target off-balance. The target gets sort of hooked by the fascinating spectacle, intrigued, and strangely disarmed. Too much flattery results in suspicion, too much negativity is a turn-off (or taken to an extreme like Karkat, results in not being taken seriously at all). The barbs mixed in with the flattery are effective because they lead the target to think, "If this person really wants something from me, why would they insult me?" Of course, this is how pick-up artists operate, which isn't far off from Vriska's mindset when pursuing her goals—which, although more broad than romantic goals, are still mixed in with them, with the end result being part of the overall power play. Over the course of her tactics focused on John to make herself more relevant, when actual romantic designs start seeping into the fabric of her manipulation campaign, that's when it all starts to get...A Little Bit Weird.

We've already seen a lot of Vriska's tactics on display in Hivebent, with mixed results. By now she's had a lot of practice, and she's bringing all her skills to bear on the perfect rube for her schemes, this nerdy, gullible Egbert kid. The romantic angle that surfaces from this effort, as I just implied, is vaguely troubling. How else to describe it... ? Icky, maybe? Something is off about it, and we feel that more than John does, obviously because we know a lot more about her than he does. For Vriska, are the romantic desires real? Is she such a mess inside that she wouldn't be able to tell whether the feelings are genuine or not? It's more likely that it's all about the ego boost, the power trip involved with grooming this hapless fool into the thing she wants him to be, and hoodwinking him into feeling something for her. But for him, it's probably more sincere. His first awkward experience with romance, albeit one contrived by a manipulator. Too bad he has no idea that none of this even has anything to do with him. It's still just about Vriska's gamesmanship with Terezi, who is another person exhibiting many of the aforementioned qualities of a manipulator. Terezi just uses hers to target a different boy. Both are highly successful with their boywork, but they take very different approaches." -Andrew Hussie

#see like these are not the words of a person who genuinely excuses vriskas actions. hussie is bullshitting when they imply that shit #its satire but [insert in order for satire to work meme]#(sometimes lacks clarity of purpose)(ends up contributing to that which it intends to criticize)#anyways love 'boywork'#sams reading homestuck again #homestuck #vriska

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loveandleases · 9 months

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Okay but following the trend, I'm on my knees begging for Ardents reaction to Jade trying to get with him now.

Is it a trend now? Well, I suppose so. You shall receive your answer anon! Cam version here. G version here. Below the cut~

🖤 Ardent - As soon as you arrive to the apartment complex steps you stop in your tracks. You watch on as you see Jade try to snake her arm around Ardent's waist.

Before you have time to yell at her, at him, you're unsure at which, he yanks her arm off him and steps back.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me right now." His voice is stern, and his jaw clenched. Ardent throws his hand up pointing over his shoulder at you. "That's your sibling right?" He asks Jade as she turns to narrow her eyes at you.

"Wha...you know it is." She says quietly as she begins to twirl a strand of hair around her finger. A nervous habit of hers since youth.

You watch on not saying a word, unsure of what to do, what to say.

"That's my fucking partner, not you. That's the person I'm with, not some pea-brain idiot who thinks it's a good idea to screw their future in-law. That's the person who can touch me, fuck me, love me. The same one I fucking love." Ardent's voice booms on the street.

The people passing by whisper and stare as Jade steps back against the railing of the steps. Looking to you, to Ardent. "I never sa.."

Ardent interrupts her again with a scoff. "You don't have to say shit, in fact, how about you don't and use your brain for once." Ardent turns to you taking your hand in his and leads you past Jade into the complex.

As you enter the building he presses you against the wall, claiming your lips with his own. Are you shaking or is it him?

Ardent is many things, but this side of him...it's never one you expected.

His hand presses softly against the side of your face, lovingly stroking it with his thumb before ending the kiss and leaning his forehead against your own. "Sorry, you had to see that or her."

You look up at him, those eyes normally holding so much anger, resentment, not what you see in them now. "That's the first time you said you love me." you whisper, noticing the scent of his cologne.

You watch as he closes his eyes, trying to fight the smile on his lips. "Yeah, well don't get used to it kitten." he kisses the tip of your nose, before leading you into the elevator.

#loveandleases #love and leases #twine wip #if wip #upcoming if #asks #ardent

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strangerquinns · 1 year

Text

Deadly Reunion | Chapter 5

Eddie Munson x female!reader // a stranger things apocalypse au

summary: You and Eddie have been best friends since childhood. But when the outbreak happened five years ago, you were torn from one another in the chaos. but now you’re left alone, after your group was killed by another radical crew, leaving you to seek out what was once home. // zombie apocalypse Hawkins set in 1993

warnings: angst + adult themes w/ descriptions of violence, blood, torture + other zombie apocalypse related issues

word count: 2.4k+

⪻ previous chapter | next chapter ⪼ | stranger things masterlist

As you followed behind Hopper you noticed the side eyes and glances from those you passed, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of shame and nerves. One of the first things you noticed was how everyone was oddly clean. Looks of freshly washed hair and groomed faces. You could only imagine how you looked walking through their seemingly perfect world. You couldn’t even remember the last time you bathed, possibly somewhere near the border. But a washup in a river or creek was far from a proper cleanup.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked, turning your gaze back to Hopper in front of you. He turned to look over his shoulder at you before looking back forward. “Said it was some sort of quarantine?”

“It’s become our sort of…holding cell area. We have gone months without someone being Flayed within our community and I am not risking that – even if I did know you in the past. We must be careful. I’m in charge of these people, and I’m not risking losing more because I was careless.”

You nodded your head, “I understand, I mean, I’m coming willingly.”

Hopper stopped short causing you to do the same. Looking around him, you saw that the two of you had come across an elevator. You only had to wait a few seconds before a significant lift appeared on your floor. The two of you stepped inside, Hopper moving to the opposite side and leaning against the back wall. You moving to stand on the opposite side.

It amazed you how even over the years, Hopper looked and acted exactly the same as when you last saw him. Except there was something in his eyes that were a little more hardened than usual. It made you fear him a little like he would hesitate if you made the wrong move.

“Came looking for you and your mom when everything was going down. But when we came by the house…everything was gone.”

“Mom and I left the moment news broke in the city.” You spoke, turning your eyes away from him. “She was scared. So we packed what we could and headed south. Only made it halfway before we got caught up in a hoard. Came across a group that helped us out and we stuck with it.”

Hopper made a deep noise within his chest, nodding his head, before speaking, “Where is your mom now?”

The familiar burn in your eyes quickly came back. Your gaze was more focused on the wall beside you as the two of you traveled downward. A tense silence came over the both of you. Hopper let out a heavy sigh, knowing that your non-answer was answer enough.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Hopper spoke softly, just as the door of the elevator opened. You didn’t speak, too afraid of what your voice would sound like with the tightness in your throat. Instead, just nodded your head.

Turning and stepping out you were welcomed to a long hallway that had doors lining the white tiled walls. They were heavy-duty doors with slots in the middle and a small window. That feeling in your stomach before turned to lead and dropped in your stomach.

You continued to follow behind and for a moment thought if you were naïve to follow along for this long.

Hopper grabbed a set of keys from the pocket of his pants before opening one of the doors. When he opened the door and stepped side, you saw it was a small room. A single bed pressed in the corner with a small desk and a shelf. Another door was inside what you assumed was the bathroom.

“Go ahead and take a shower, there should be fresh towels in there. I will bring down some clean clothes and place them through the slot for you. After that, someone will be down to do an exam. Make sure you don’t have any bites or scratches or signs of an infection. Once that’s been confirmed, you’ll be here for a few days as clearance – then you can acclimate with the rest of the Camp.”

Your eyes darted from between him and the inside of the room a few times. Hopper could see a clear hesitation and fear set in your eyes.

“Someone will bring down your food, three times a day, a walkie is inside in case you need anything. But a camera is on the room as well, someone will be watching for any signs of infection.”

You swallowed the lump at the back of your throat before nodding your head. Hesitantly you moved to stand in the doorway of the room, before walking forward. When the door slammed shut behind you, you couldn’t help but jump. You turned quickly to look through the small window and saw that Hopper was still standing there. Your heart raced against your chest as you stared back at him with fear-wide eyes.

“Go ahead and wash up,” Hopper nodded his head before he disappeared from the view of the window.

It was only then as you listened to the sound of his footsteps fading away that the realization of being alone hit you. Your heart hammered and raced in your chest as your eyes darted wildly around the sterile room. Your breath came out labored and hard as you bent forward and placed your hands on your knees. The pressure of your pack on your back was too much, so you rushed to toss it toward the floor.

“Come on, come on, come on,” You whispered to yourself between each harsh breath. It didn’t take much deduction to realize you were on the brink of a panic attack.

One of your hands raced to your chest and gripped it tightly with the necklace around your neck tightening within your grasp. You closed your eyes tightly and concentrated on your breathing. Panic attacks weren’t something that was usually an issue for you. Not until recent months as the nightmares no longer stayed within your dreams.

It took you a few minutes to calm down. You stood straight, wiped the few tears on your cheeks away, and walked toward the bathroom. Your body felt as if it was on autopilot as you moved about the small bathroom. It had a standing shower, toilet, and sink. On the shelves above the toilet were nicely folded towels. Everything for a moment felt foreign as you slid the door open to turn on the water. A light childlike laugh left your lips as the warm water rushed from the spout.

You stripped out of your old, stiff, smelly clothes before stepping into the warm water. The water pressure wasn’t the greatest, but it was better than anything else you used over the last few years. You stood there for a long period of time as the warm water cascaded down your body. You cringed as you watched the dirty water circle around the drain. You scrubbed your body till your skin felt raw with the generic soap that was inside the shower along with the cloth. The scars your body had collected over the years became more noticeable and brought a frown to your lips.

Memories rushed back to you as each new one appeared.

A soft knock on the bathroom caused you to jump again, a small squeak sounding from your lips.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle,” a female voice spoke from the other side of the thin door. “I-I’m Joyce, Joyce Byers. Hopper sent me down to do an exam. I-I’m ready whenever you are. I also have clean clothes for you.”

You reached clumsily for the handle of the shower and turned it off. You grabbed the towel you left on the edge of the sink for yourself to do a quick dry off of your body. Before opening the door, you wrapped the towel around your body and were welcomed by a woman. She looked vaguely familiar, but your mind couldn’t make out exactly how. Her face was framed off with long brown hair with strands of gray. Her smile was gentle and hesitant as if she was just as nervous.

“I got you some comfy clothes for while you’re down here.” She gestured with the folded clothes in her hands, before placing them down on the end of the bed. “I am sure Hopper explained why I am here?” You nodded your head slowly but kept your grasp tight on your towel. “Sadly, I need to do a full exam…so I can make a clear report.”

You hesitated for only a moment before dropping the towel down to your feet. A shiver came over you as your arms moved to gross over your chest for some semblance of privacy. Joyce was quick and didn’t do anything to add to the uncomfortableness of a stranger seeing you naked. But even if you understood the reasoning behind it, didn’t mean you were exactly welcoming to it.

“You’ve been through a lot, I see,” Joyce spoke as she walked over to the small desk, grabbing a piece of paper and writing down a few things. You took that as a chance to put on clean clothes.

“Am I clear?” You asked, ignoring her statement. “No infection?”

Joyce turned around and gathered the small notebook, “No. You’re cleared of any bites. But we still are gonna wait a few days, make sure you’re not sick of anything else.”

“Ok.” You spoke, “Can I see my friend? Or at least speak with him?”

“I’ll pass that question off to Hopper.” Joyce nodded and made her way to the door. “Someone will bring down some food, believe we’re having hamburgers for dinner.”

A loud grumbling sounded from your stomach at the mere mention of food. A soft laugh came from Joyce as she moved to leave out of the door. This time you didn’t miss the sound of the lock going into place as she left. A deep and heavy sign passed your lips as you sat down on the stiff bed.

A dark feeling of loneliness comes around you like a blanket. Your eyes close slowly as the fatigue and exhaustion of the day hit you.

The dreams weren’t as welcoming as you hoped they could be.

Fall, Hawkins 1987; Six Month’s before Outbreak

“Why are you fuckin’ being like this! I thought you’d be happy for me?” You spoke, voice cracking as you stared back at Eddie.

His face twisted with nothing but anger as he looked at you. His entire body was stiff with his arms crossed at his chest. He scoffed as he heard you, completely ignoring the pain that was forming in his chest as he watched you cry in front of him. Rarely did the two of you ever fight. And when you did, it was over small shit that resolved hours later. But this, this was something that the two of you couldn’t get over.

“You promised that you were coming with us!” Eddie screamed “Remember, the two of us were gonna get out of here and leave this shit fucking town behind. Start a new life, together!”

You groaned and closed your eyes in frustration as your hands fisted tightly at your side. This argument had been going around and around in circles ever since Corroded Coffin officially got signed and was now traveling to LA to record the debut album. It was a few months after the scout had come to the Hideout to see them. It took less than a week for the agent to reach out. Corroded’s popularity was growing and growing faster than anyone imagined. Eddie’s dreams were finally coming true, the only thing missing was you.

“I can’t leave my mom behind. Not after my dad just fucking ditched and left. She’d be alone.”

“Oh my god! She’s a grown adult!” Eddie screamed louder, his face turning red with anger.

You flinched back away from him, something you’d never done before. You weren’t exactly sure why you did. Your body just reacted naturally, though deep down you knew, Eddie would never touch you. That caused him to snap out of it for a second. Pacing away from you as his hands moved through his long curls.

You two stood there outside his trailer with the tension growing thick between the two of you. Inside you knew that Sarah, Gareth, and the others could hear the two of you screaming. But everyone knew it was better than to interfere with any argument you and Eddie had. Eddie reached into his pocket and pulled out his smokes before lighting one quickly and taking a long drag. The smoke danced through the cooler fall air in front of him before he placed it back into his mouth again.

“I know what I promised, but things change, Eddie. I can’t leave knowing my mom is going to struggle if I don’t help her out. I can’t do that in LA.”

“Fuckin’ bullshit,” Eddie spat, his dark eyes glaring. “That’s fuckin’ bullshit and you know it.”

“Eddie…”

“No! I’m fuckin’ done,” Eddie threw what was left of the cigarette to the ground, before smashing it with his boot. “Didn’t think you’d be on the list of people that would abandon me. But guess I was wrong.”

“Eddie…please…”

You went to reach for him as he moved to pass you, but he pulled his arm out of your grasp. Your heart felt like it stopped within in your chest as he walked away from you. Stomping up the front steps of the trailer before throwing the door open. The violent sound of it slamming against the side of the trailer caused you to jump back.

For the first time, it really felt like Eddie was walking out of your life.

Tears cascaded down Eddie’s face as he rushed past the others sitting in the living room and went straight to his bedroom. He thought it was a for sure with you coming with them to LA. Not only based on the promise you’d made to one another. But because you said that you were in love with him.

Even if you still didn’t know what you’d told him that night.

reblog + fave if you enjoyed

The next chapter is going to be more on the reader and Eddie going over the time they've missed together. A little preview on what/why they weren't together during the Outbreak. Please leave thoughts, I love love reading them, or come and chat in my inbox!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year

Text

Lightning Bug - Chapter 11

Master List of Lightning Bug

Warning: mention of kidnapping, mention of the Thanos, mention of child neglect

Word Count: 4.7k

“It’s not enough time,” Yelena said, following Kate into their shared bedroom back at the tower. It had been a constant conversation since Natasha asked the young Hawkeye to join her on her recon mission. Kate stopped herself from rolling her eyes. It was cute how protective her girlfriend was being but she could only take so much. “Cho said no activity for a week.” She pulled out her duffle bag from underneath their bed.

“Technically, she said no heavy lifting,” Kate began to pull clothes from her closet. “And I won’t be lifting anything.” Natasha and she spent a few moments at the Barton’s and on the ride back home to discuss the mission. It was a recon mission to follow a man named Andrei Orlov. He was seen at multiple locations where kids and young adults were going missing. The hope was to follow him and he would lead them to where they were keeping these kids. But it was risky. Andrei had a history of domestic violence and drunken disorderly conduct. Kate kept that hidden from Yelena. She turned to go back into the bathroom but Yelena grabbed her hand. The Black Widow spun her back around.

“I don’t like this,” Yelena said, softly. Kate put her finger underneath her chin and forced the blonde to look at her.

“It’s going to be okay,” Kate smiled. “I got your sister’s back and she’s got mine.” She kissed Yelena’s forehead. “We’ll be fine.” Yelena sighed.

“You're leaving too.” Kate pulled away from her girlfriend to look towards their open door. The teen was staring at them. The expression on her face was unreadable.

“Yeah, bud. Natasha asked me to join her.” The girl frowned.

“Oh,” she said. “You-you are going to be okay, right?” Kate smiled with a nod of her head.

“I’ll be okay,” she nodded.

“Okay, I uh-” the girl cleared her throat. “Be safe.” She walked in the direction of her room. Kate’s eyebrows meant in the middle as she watched the girl walk away. She felt Yelena move her hand on her cheek and forced her to look away from the door.

“Don’t worry about her, dorogoy (sweetheart).” She said, “You need to focus on the mission and get back to us.” The archer smiled, capturing her girlfriend’s lips in a quick kiss.

“I’ll come home to you,” she promised.

Natasha sat on their bed going over the mission specifics while Wanda packed her bag. It was a tradition the two had. If one that wasn’t assigned to the mission would pack so the one leaving could go over any last-minute details. The couple have gone through so many missions together and apart they knew what they each needed. “Stop,” Wanda said, without looking up. “You're overthinking and it’s making my brain hurt.” Natasha chuckled at Wanda’s joke to lighten the mood. The witch zipped up the bag and moved to stand between Natasha’s legs. Natasha put the file down and her hands moved to the back of Wanda’s thighs. With skilled and soft fingers, Wanda traced the lines on Natasha’s forehead. The tension the Black Widow was carrying in her shoulders and forehead was erased away. “Why are you so worried about this? It’s not like you to second yourself.” Natasha sighed.

“I just want to do this right,” she said. “I remember being one of those scared little girls and waiting for someone to save me. But no one came.” She whispered the last part. Wanda smiled and kissed her on the forehead, her nose then finally her lips.

“You and Kate will save them. Don’t doubt yourself.” Natasha smiled.

“Thank you, malen'kaya ved'ma (little witch).”

“Miss. Romanoff, the Quinjet is ready for you, and Miss. Bishop,” Natasha sighed, standing up and putting the files in her bag. She placed it over her shoulder and took Wanda’s hand and they left their room. But she stopped before heading to the elevator.

“I’ll meet you by the elevator,” she said. Wanda nodded and let go of her hand. She sighed and walked over to Y/n’s room. The door was cracked open as Natasha knocked.

“Come in,” her voice called out. The Black Widow opened the door and saw the girl sitting on her bed. She raided the Bartons' small book collection before they left. So her bed was scattered with books. “You're leaving,” she said, pointing to the bag over Natasha’s shoulder. Her hands were uncovered.

“Kate and I will be back in a couple of days,” Natasha didn’t miss the sudden change in the girl’s mood. The air in the room felt different. “Stay out of trouble, young lady.” She joked. The teen tried to keep a smile from forming but failed miserably.

“Of course,” but as quickly as she smiled she frowned. “You are going to come back, right? Come back safe.” The statement made the air leave out of Natasha’s lungs. She wasn’t expecting such rare emotion from her. Natasha nodded, recovering quickly.

“Yeah, kid, I’ll be safe.”

“Good because I-” she stopped herself. “I don’t know what Annie will do without her favorite customer.” Natasha wondered what she was going to say but the Russian smiled.

“We can’t have that,” she said. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Bye Nat,” she turned to leave and closed the door. “You can keep it open.” Today was full of surprises. The Black Widow nodded and walked over to the elevator.

You sighed as Natasha walked away. You hated this feeling, you weren’t sure what to even call it but you wanted it to go away. You refocused on the books laid out on your bed. “How dare you,” America’s sudden voice made you jump. You looked up and saw her standing in your doorway with tears running down her face.

“America, what’s-” you saw The Outsider in her hands. “You finished it.”

“Yes!” She closed the distance between you and her. She sat on an empty spot on your bed. “This is your favorite?!? I cried when Johnny and Dally died.” You smiled, taking the book from her.

“I like it because it’s a good coming-of-age story,” you shrugged, skimming through the pages. “Plus it values friendship and loyalty.” America sighed, falling on her back dramatically.

“And breaking readers’ hearts,” you giggled.

“That too,” you said. “There is a movie. Do you want to watch it?” America sat up quickly, whipping away her tears.

“Yes! Let’s see if Wanda and Yelena want to join us they get a little upset when Nat and Kate go on missions,” you nodded.

“I’ll go get the movie set up if you want to go get them,” you said, putting your gloves on. The plan was made. You found the movie on one of the many streaming services Tony had. You walked into the kitchen and made regular popcorn and poured a bowl of caramel popcorn for Yelena. Once the snacks were ready, you sat down on the couch waiting for everyone to join.

It was nice sitting on the couch with anyone as the movie played. You knew Yelena was worried about Kate but she still managed to enjoy the movie. It made Wanda cry, even America teared up. Once the credits rolled, Wanda suggested another movie. It seemed no one wanted to be alone tonight.

You slept in the next morning. The movie night went much longer than you thought it would so you slept in till 1100. But you did not want to wake up. You threw the blanket over your head. “Miss. Y/n,” you groaned at the AI. “Your presence is being requested in the kitchen.”

“By who?” You asked.

“Miss. Belova,” With a sigh, you stood up from your makeshift bed and stretched.

“Tell her I’ll be out soon,” you splashed some cold water on your face and brushed your teeth. Before you left, you stared at your untouched bed. Maybe you’d sleep in it tonight. You left your room and walked into the kitchen. It startled you to see the blonde without Kate by her side, you stopped yourself from asking where she was. Then you remembered.

“You need to eat,” she said, placing a grilled cheese sandwich down in front of you.

“I was sleeping,” you countered, taking a bite of the sandwich. She rolled her eyes at you.

“You can’t sleep the day away,” Wanda said, appearing behind you. She went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Her hair was damp, she must have just taken a shower. You smiled.

“Right, can’t do that.” You didn’t have a plan for the day. You tried to read but nothing could keep your attention. Music couldn’t fill the space. That’s when it clicked. You missed Natasha and you hated yourself for it. Of course, you missed Kate but she was your friend. Natasha was-you weren’t sure what your relationship with the Black Widow could be classified. Friend? Guardian? Mom? But you didn’t like missing her and her presence because missing people meant you could get hurt.

On the second full day of them being gone, you wouldn’t sit with these big feelings. You needed to stick to a routine to keep your mind off the Black Widow and the Hawkeye. So you woke up early to make breakfast, scrambled eggs, and pancakes. The smell brought those who were still here out. Once the food was eaten, you followed American and Yelena into the training area. Sam and Rhodey were there and the two ran to join them. You sat back and watched them until the door opened and Bucky walked in. You both froze as you stared at each other. He was not part of your routine. “I can leave.” He said.

“No,” you said, a little too loud. You winched. “It’s fine. Go work out.” He smiled, it was small and didn’t quite reach his eyes, and continued into the training room. It felt too stuffy in the room so you gathered your things and left. “FRIDAY, where is Vision?”

“He is on his floor reading,” you nodded and headed to the elevator. Vision was right where FRIDAY said he would be. He was reading a book in a language you didn’t know.

“Hello, Miss. Y/n. What can I do for you?” He asked. You shifted your weight from one foot to another.

“I was wondering if you want to play chess,” you said. “But if you rather read then that’s fine.” He closed the book with a smile.

“Of course, we can play. I have a chessboard over here,” you followed him to a small dining room table, where a chessboard was. He began to set up the board as you sat down. You were white so you went first. As you played, Vision still explained each move and gave you tips on what piece to move next.

“Can I ask you a question?” You asked, collecting his bishop.

“Good move,” he stole one of your pawns. “You can ask your question.” You looked at the man in front of you.

“What is that stone?” You moved your rook. “I’ve seen you use it in training.” He smiled, moving his bishop.

“It’s one of the 6 infinity stones; The Mind Stone. It gave me life and Miss. Maximoff her powers,” he explained. You looked at the board, biting your lip as you thought about your next move and your next question.

“And Thanos was after those stones,” he nodded. “What are the infinity stones?”

“They are six powerful gems tied to different aspects of the universe; space, mind, reality, power, time, and soul.” He moved his knight. “Only beings of immense power can wield the stones.”

“What did Thanos want?” You moved your last pawn which he captured easily. You weren’t sure if he was going to answer. The article you read at the ice cream shop didn’t say why the titan came to Earth.

“Thanos wanted to eliminate half of Earth’s population,” Oh. “He believed that the massive population of the universe would use up all the resources and cease to be.” You let your words set with you. Your mind wandered to the possibility of the Avengers failing, would you have been part of the population to be killed? Sometimes you thought there were too many people but killing half the world’s population seemed a little extreme. What if they failed? Would you have never gotten the chance to meet Natasha at Java House? The thousand and one ‘What if?’ questions ran through your mind. “Are you alright?” He asked.

“Check mate,” you smiled proudly. Vision stared at the board.

“Good game, Miss. Y/n,” he smiled. “Now, what else is on your mind?” You began to reset the board.

“Nothing Vis. Just questioning the universe,” you set it up so Vision could go first. “Your move.”

You were surprised to see Steve on your floor. He was sitting by the window with a sketchbook in his hands. He gave you a small wave and focused back on whatever he was drawing. You went into the kitchen and made a peanut butter sandwich. You cut it diagonally and ate it slowly watching the super soldier. Steve must have felt eyes on him because he glanced behind him. You looked away, feeling your cheeks turn a bright red. Steve chuckled. “What are you drawing?” You asked him.

“Just the city,” he answered. “Would you like to join me?” You hesitated but grabbed your plate and joined the super soldier. You glanced over his shoulder and were impressed by the level of detail. It was as if Steve took a picture of the city and put it in his notebook.

“That’s good,” you said, sitting down. Steve laughed.

“You sound surprised.”

“I didn’t expect Captain America to have time to have a hobby,” he smiled.

“I went to art school before I enlisted and..” his voice trailed off.

“Become a hero,” he nodded. “Do you miss it? Your life before all of this,” he didn’t answer right away and focused on shading a few buildings.

“I miss how simple it was,” he finally answered. “But I do like a few things better now than the 20s.”

“Like the internet and modern medicine,” he laughed again, throwing his head back.

“Those are good things,” you sat in silence as he drew the city he grew up in but was very different and you picked at your sandwich. “Here,” he tore a blank page from his sketchbook and handed it to you.

“I can’t draw,” you said, taking the paper and pencil.

“Sure you can,” he smiled. “Anyone can draw. It just takes practice.” You stared at the blank page that Steve gave you. It was a little daunting. A page like this could be filled with limitless possibilities. “Stop thinking so hard,” Steve said. “I can see the smoke coming out of your ears.” You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Just feel it. It doesn’t have to be perfect.” You put the pencil to the paper and without thinking too much about it you began to draw.

Your mind went to Lucia’s bookstore. You sketched out a bookshelf next to a window. On the bookshelf, you added some books and a potted plant. You put the sun in the window. “It’s good,” Steve said. You said, putting your pencil down.

“No, it’s not. Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not! Do you want me to show you where you can improve?” You nodded. He taught you the importance of understanding where your light source is coming from. He used the plate you brought over as an example. He explained shadows, that drawing is about observing the world around you, and the idea of a vanishing point; which is a point on the horizon line where all lines meet at.

“Thank you for this,” you said to him.

“Don’t thank me. I love teaching this to people,” he smiled. “Do you want to continue?” You nodded and Steve gave you more people from his sketchbook. You thanked him and practiced drawing a city skyline. It was nice, calming a piece of your mind that was loud. You were going to start drawing more to ease the energy in your body when it became too much.

You didn’t join Wanda, Yelena, and America for dinner. You took two plates and headed to Pepper’s office. You knocked on the door, balancing two plates in one hand. The AI told you Pepper was in her office, a place she has been in all day. “Come in,” she sighed. You smiled, opening the door. “I did not expect you to be at my door.” You kicked the door close.

“I come with dinner and to help with paperwork.”

“You are a saint.” You handed Pepper her plate. Wanda made a chicken pot pie. America told you it was one of the many comfort foods she would make when Natasha was away on a mission. You sat down in an empty chair in front of her desk. “How are Yelena and Wanda?” She asked after she took a few bites.

“Worried well Yelena is more worried than Wanda,” she nodded, whipping her mouth with a napkin.

“How are you?” You played with the food on your plate. You shrugged.

“It’s strange,” you admitted. “I didn’t expect to miss them.” She raised her eyebrows at you, asking a silent question. Why? But you weren’t sure why. “Can I help with anything?” You asked.

“Finish eating then I have some things for you to do.” You sat in front of her filing cabinet after you ate. She needed you to file some stuff away and pull files for a meeting she needed to prepare for. The room was silent besides the keys Pepper was hitting on her keyboard and the music coming from the radio. It was a song you recognized.

“So bye-bye, Miss. American Pie. Drove my chevy to the levee but the levee was dry.” You hummed the tone as the song continued. Pepper chuckled. You looked at her, cheeks warm from embarrassment.

“I’m not laughing at you,” she said. “I find it surprising how many young people like this song.”

“Oh,” you said. “I wouldn’t say I like it, I just recognize it.” You watched Pepper nod her head. “Who else likes this song?” You asked.

“Yelena.” That surprised you. “She says it's her and Natasha’s song.” You smiled, going back to your filling. “So do you have a favorite song?”

“No,” you said simply. You heard Pepper turn around in her chair. “I wasn’t allowed to listen to music and when you live on the streets it's not the easiest medium to get your hands on,” you shrugged, placing a file in a pile that you knew Pepper would need. “Happy gave me a walkman to listen to music though.”

“He knows music is on an app, right?” You giggled.

“Yes, but he said apps can be overwhelming,” Pepper rolled her eyes and turned back around to her desk.

“What an old man,” she teased. You smiled.

“I kind of like it,” you said, standing up and grabbing a pile. You placed it on her desk. “It’s simple.” She looked at you for a moment.

“I was wondering if you can do something else for me,” you wondered what she was going to say and what changed her mind. You nodded. She opened a drawer of her desk and pulled out a tablet and a pad of paper. “I need you to do some data entry.” She explained the spreadsheet to you and where to put the numbers. You sat on the couch and took off your gloves, it was easier to type without them on. “Do you know the saying that someone has an old soul?” You nodded. Annie said you had one, someone who had such a high maturity level. “You had to grow up very quickly, didn’t you?” The question took you by surprise. You focused on the numbers but you felt Pepper’s eyes on you.

“I wasn’t wanted,” you said. “I had to take care of myself.” Pepper gave you a sad smile.

“You are wanted here.”

Wanda informed you on the 3rd day that Natasha and Kate wouldn’t be home today but you shouldn’t be worried, these things happen. You were still worried. You repeated the day you had yesterday. You made breakfast, joined Wanda and Yelena in the training room, played chess with Vision, and drew with Steve. But you didn’t help Pepper, you organized another movie night. You made snacks and put on Matilda, it was a movie you’d seen. You identified with the young girl who loved to read and felt unwanted by her biological family. It was different from the book it was based on but you loved it just the same. The others joined you on the couch and you pressed play. You had to stop yourself from laughing as you compared Miss. Honey to Natasha. But you smiled. Damn, you missed her.

Pounding on your door woke you up. You ran to your door and swung it up. “They’re back,” America smiled. You felt a weight leave your chest. “Do you want to go see them?” You nodded.

“Give me a second,” you ran to put your gloves on and followed America to the elevator. You were nervous, your stomach was flipping and filled with butterflies. What was going on with you? You let out a shaky breath as the elevator door opened and you stepped onto the helipad. Wanda and Yelena were already there. Natasha had her arms around Wanda in a tight hug and Yelena was looking Kate over for injuries. You saw none. America ran over to them and pulled the archer into a hug. You wanted to run over to them, to get a hug, and tell them how much you missed them but your feet stayed cemented to the spot you were standing at. Your arms felt like they had pins and needles in them. You ran your hands up and down your arms as you watched them hug. Natasha put her arm around Wanda’s shoulders and walked over to you.

“Hey, kid,” Natasha smiled.

“Hi,” you said, a little out of breath. “All good?” She nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “All good.” You weren’t sure if you believed her. She seemed tired and drained. Her smile didn’t quite meet her eyes but you knew she was happy to be home.

“Good,” you smiled, opening the elevator. You were glad they were back and safe.

It was short-lived. “You are all leaving,” you said as you sat on the edge of your bed with Natasha on your side and Wanda brought over a chair. “All of you.” Natasha nodded. The Black Widow just broke the news that everyone in the tower was leaving for a mission.

“Kate and I made a breakthrough.” The mission was still a mystery to you. You wondered if you asked what was going on they would tell you. But the fact they hadn’t told you made you think they didn’t want you to know. Cooper was right, they didn’t want you to worry.

“Is it normal for all of you to go on a mission?” You asked instead.

“On a scale this big, yes,” Wanda said. Oh, you thought, It must be really bad. “We don’t want to leave you alone like this.” She added.

“It’s fine,�� you said, quickly. “I won’t be alone. Pepper will be here and I can go visit Annie and Lucia.” You put on a forced smile on your face. You ignored the way Wanda looked at you as if she didn’t believe you. If you were honest with yourself, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself. The idea of being alone in the tower scared you. What if they didn’t come back? “When do you guys leave?”

“Steve gave us 15 minutes to get ready,” you nodded.

“Promise,” you whispered. “Promise you’ll both come back safe.” You looked at both of them. It was a hard promise. An impossible one. Again, the words came out of your mouth before thinking about it. The couple looked at each other.

“We promise,” Natasha said. A knock on your door caused you to look up. It was a brunette, someone you knew from a picture. Maria’ Lila told you her name. She had a smile on her face and her arms crossed against her chest.

“Sorry to interpret but Steve wants to go over mission specifics,” you saw Natasha roll her eyes. “You must be Y/n I’m -”

“Maria,” you cut her off. You saw the shock on her face. “I saw a picture of you at Barton's. Lila told me your name.” Maria sighed.

“That picture of me is awful. We just returned from a 2-week deep undercover mission. I didn’t shower for a week.” You smiled.

“I think you looked great,” Natasha groaned.

“Don’t inflate her ego anymore,” the Black Widow teased. “Her head can barely fit in the tower.” The brunette flipped her off. You laughed at their behavior towards one another.

“Anyways, I came here to get you two before the American super-soldier throws a tantrum but here I am getting insulted,” she looked at you. “It was nice meeting you. I hope next time we see each other it won’t be so brief.”

“I’d like that.” Maria turned to leave.

“And hurry up you two times a ticking,” she called out over her shoulder. You giggled.

“Suka,” Natasha mumbled. Wanda gave her girlfriend a disapproving look.

“What does that Russian word mean?” You asked, turning your head to the side. You wanted to learn the language since so many people in your life now spoke it.

“It’s a grown-up word,” Wanda said.

“So a curse word. What is it?” You questioned.

“Not important,” The Black Widow said. You pouted. The look on your face made the couple next to you laugh. “Are you sure you're going to be okay?” You nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Go save the world.”

Once upon a time you loved when everything was quiet. No yelling. No fights. Just peace. But as you walked onto your floor after saying goodbye to everyone, you hated how quiet it was. You sighed. Pepper was in a meeting and you didn’t have the energy to go see Annie or Lucia. So you sat on the couch with the copy of The Outsiders and began to read.

You must have fallen asleep. The sun was still up but the sky was a few shades darker. You picked up the book from the ground and headed into the kitchen. “FRIDAY, can you play music?” You asked the AI.

“What would you like me to play?” You weren’t sure. After some thought, “Can you play America’s playlist?” you finally asked. Music began to echo against the quiet walls as you cooked dinner. You decided on box mac and cheese. It was a simple recipe that didn’t require much thought and you noticed there was a ton of it. Once it was done, you had FRIDAY turn off the music and sat on the bar stool. You continued to read as you ate.

The Outsider was the first book you’ve read. You remember that day so clearly. It was spring and you were sitting on a bench in a small park. Parks were the best place to watch people try to determine who would be the kindest to give you food. You were watching a young woman. She must have been a student in high school or the local college, you weren’t sure but she was reading. In a hurry, she got up suddenly and put her book in her bag but she missed it. The book lay in the grass as she ran to wherever she was late too. No one seemed to notice and if they did they didn’t care. On shaky legs, you walked over to the book and picked it up; dusting off the dirt from the cover. You sat on that bench and read the book front to back. It took you a while as it was the first non-religious book you’ve read but you loved it and fell in love with reading. When you were done, you set the book on the bench and left it for the girl to find.

“So,” you spun around at the sudden voice. “You're the kid Romanoff and Maximoff decided to adopt.”

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purgetrooperfox · 17 days

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propaganda (elevator pitches) ⬇️

Nocte (sw):

is CMO of the Coruscant Guard. fiercely loyal to the Guard. deeply wary of the senate, with very few exceptions. he's my oldest oc and probably the one y'all are most likely to have heard of. integrated into arcs with many of my friends' ocs/fics/whatnot <3 what else goes in his elevator pitch,,, known to take kids and younger clones under his wing, protective to a fault, low tolerance for nonsense. beat around the bush at your own peril. questionable bedside manner. manwhore tendencies. I love him, you love him. he's been transplanted into [checks list] cod, tlou, and bebop

Uj'alayi (sw):

is an ARC trooper, used to work with the Shadows then got brutally injured and had to transition to the CG. owes his life to Quinlan Vos and is disgruntled about it. guard dog coded. his bite is exponentially bigger than his bark. on the surface: quick to laugh, quick to joke, charismatic and personable without being overbearing. this may or may not be a mask he wears. will lay a beat down on just about anyone if they Cause Issues for Fox. in the relationship of all time with Lane Hurosa (another of my ocs)

Bones (sw):

is marshal commander of the 410th recon corps under Bastra Vargdan (another of my ocs). traits include: CQC specialist, confounded by the concept of the Force, at least partly responsible for getting a gambling ring going in the GAR (has a poke face like nobody's business). outside of working hours, he's laid back, easygoing. stark contrast between On-Duty Bones and Off-Duty Bones. encyclopedic knowledge of regs, but flexible adherence to them sometimes. big brained tactical strategist, ended up teaching Bastra a Lot about like. how to lead a corps

Bastra (sw):

my Jedi 👉👈 trained by Sifo-Dyas so dookudyas is very dad-coded to him. specialized as an Investigator, excels at undercover ops. also has quite a bit of integration into my friends' oc arcs and stuff <3 buddies with Obi-Wan, gets on pretty well with the TG and CG since he spends a chunk of his time on Coruscant. ummmm he takes a Padawan like 10ish years before the war, somewhere in that range. he's a goofy guy, real stiff and formal a lot of the time but it lets up around people he trusts. of course I know him, he's me etc etc. he's currently getting transplanted into cp2077

Lane (sw):

is a journalist on Coruscant. they spend a Lot of time in the senate district, very good at schmoozing. certified flatterer. charming, if you will. always asking one million questions that senators do Not want to answer, which results in bans from various spots around the city LOL honestly they're just neat idk what to tell you. they stay following risky leads and getting themself into binds. they're squinting very hard at the details of how the Republic acquired a clone army

Myn (sw):

is a smuggler in the early Rebellion era. also a relentless optimist, sees the very first scraps of resistance and buys in immediately. IF somehow Nocte’s alive at that point, Myn's the one who tries and probably fails to sell him on participating in the rebellion

Vio Selnes (sw):

owns and operates a 24h diner on Coruscant. this diner gets heavy business from clones leaving 79s. connections to the clones leads to scattered connections with the Jedi, leads to the restaurant being used as a rendezvous point from time to time. part of Dexter Jettster's network

Jag (mk):

is part of the Kahn Guard when Kotal's in power. he was raised by the Shaolin Monks until he bailed, moved to the States, got into all sorts of illicit activities. Kung Jin eventually moves onto his couch and joins his crew. those illicit activities land him in a stint with the Black Dragon, which is a real lesson in Kano Is A Bastard. when Erron jumps ship, Jag goes with him. he's kind of an idiot, full of trussed issues, gay as hell, will bring a knife to a gunfight or a gun to a knife fight

Rose (mk):

is part of Danver's crew from before he went BD. the brains of that whole operation. she's severely underdeveloped unfortunately but I promise she's very cool. computer nerd. minimal filter on her in the best way

Eyes (cp2077):

is a ripperdoc with more focus on ripping than doc-ing. from Pacifica, got a long time connection to Mr. Hands. wound up in Maelstrom pretty young, cut his teeth on committing atrocities and revolutionizing Maelstrom's uhhh forcible cyberware implantations and general torture methods :) was real loyal to Brick, so Royce wrecked his shit when he took over, meant to kill him but he managed to get out. winds up on Viktor Vektor's table for recovery, tries very hard to turn over a new leaf. he's a fucked up bastard of a guy I shan't lie. compels me though

#clone medic nocte #arc trooper uj'alayi #bastra vargdan #clone commander bones #lane hurosa #myn gath #des 'eyes' gallagher #danver 'jag' hakka #vio selnes #rose garcia #those tags should be semi populated. i Think #leocs #bookmark

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donnerpartyofone · 2 months

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I have posted about this multiple times before but since tumblr's search won't cough any of it up, I'm just going to say it again so I can add my new thing to my thought process about trigger warnings:

Years ago a popular true crime blogger posted an ask from someone requesting that she tag for needles. I think she had posted that notorious x-ray of masochistic serial murderer Albert Fish's colon, which is admittedly disturbing, but she very politely declined on the basis that everything she posts tends to be violent and disturbing--you actually SHOULD find her blog upsetting--and users should manage their expectations around that general premise. Additionally, needles do not carry the specific traumatic weight of something like, say, racial violence or child abuse, for which a warning could be in order; needles are everyday objects that one might reasonably encounter in a store or a person's home, or practically anywhere. If you have such an aversion that it really affects your life to see a needle, you might want to pursue treatment and stop using a part of the internet that is essentially a giant random image generator.

My personal take on content/trigger warnings (are those different? If not then why do we have varying tags instead of one universal one to keep the system reliable?) is similar, that they're only important for material that could seriously upend someone's day. Is Thing X something you truly could not have expected where you encountered it? Would you need to leave work or school if you saw Thing X? Would you need to seek assistance or take a medication? Does Thing X cause significant social problems or affect your sense of safety? If not, you don't need a warning. I mean everyone can tag whatever they choose and of course some folks are happy to tag stuff just because someone might find it annoying or unpleasant, but you're not entitled to protection from strangers just to spare you casual discomfort.

One day I got this extremely angry anonymous message in all caps yelling at me for not tagging spiders. I had no idea what the person was talking about, but after a while I realized it had to be about a popular post I'd made years ago showing tarantulas in a Kids In the Hall sketch. This was especially funny to me because at the time I was posting a lot of explicit violence and sexual imagery that someone could reasonably object to, but this person felt that it was my job to help create the illusion of a spiderless world for their benefit. I know arachnaphobia is a real thing but I still think that if you suffer from it then it's your job to look after yourself and not everybody else's job to protect you from remembering that there are spiders.

This is kind of a tangent but I often think about how trypophobia is not technically a phobia because it isn't affecting anybody's ability to lead a normal daily existence. It's just a grossout thing, basically a matter of taste, but people love to try to elevate it to the level of a serious psychological vulnerability for some reason.

I'm thinking about this stuff (again) today because I just saw a post on one of the autism subreddits where someone linked to a scientific paper to answer a specific question, but they said it needed warnings for incidental use of the term "high-functioning" and advised that some people may not wish to read the paper at all so they wouldn't be triggered by it. That term is sometimes used to invalidate or deny care to people who give the outward appearance of less urgent needs, so it is indeed pretty tricky and needs work. But change is only going to come from attention; if you are concerned about the effects of that language then I think it behooves you to know how it is being used so you are able to argue about it and lobby for change. It's hard for me (a "high-functioning" person) to imagine a scenario in which I'm interested in reading about a condition I have, and then I refuse to do so because the phrase "high-functioning" is going to trigger a psychiatric episode so bad that it's better for me to just ignore information about my own health. I think an adult who is usually inclined to educate themselves should be able to handle occasionally seeing troublesome or outdated language.

Put more concisely than above, my criteria for warnings is just: when the questionable item relates to a real, reasonably common traumatic experience that would be unfair to spring on someone who could relate to it, and/or when the content would be legitimately surprising in its context. Like if you're in my corner of tumblr you should expect that you're going to see horror movie stuff, I'm not tagging anything like that unless it's miles over the line I typically draw. But on the other hand I was out at a restaurant one night and this spoiled egomaniac was practically shouting for a long time in graphic detail about episiotomies within earshot of everyone who was trying to eat. Honestly one of the staff should have told her to shut the fuck up. That's not a thing that people should be normally expected to put up with in a public dining situation, even though it regards a medical procedure that is not morally offensive.

It's probably obvious by now that I think that being uncomfortable and even offended, at least to some degree, has an important psychological and social function. It enables you to recognize and react to problems around you. Understanding what makes you uncomfortable is critical; dealing with discomfort builds character; and continuously avoiding everything you don't like keeps you infantile. It's actually not good to live in a world of only your favorite things.

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juancarlos-ortiz · 3 months

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Marked for Carnage - Chapter 1 (Juice Ortiz x OC Fic)

Marked for Carnage Masterlist

A/N: This is chapter 1 of my Juice Ortiz x OC multi chapter fanfic. I am hoping to mesh this story line with all 7 seasons of SOA. This is an 18+ fic so if you are under 18 please do not interact or read. The themes may not hit 18+ for a few chapters but I intend them to as the story progresses. I apologize that there isn't much Juice x OC in this chapter, I was really wanting to set a foundation for my OC and how she is tied into this world. My asks are open if anyone has any questions about my OC. Also I aplogise if there are any errors, I have a toddler and a baby so I'm doing this on the fly. I hope you enjoy :)

Word Count: 2390 words

If there was one thing that Veronica Winston wished for it was that she had taken the job offer from Mercy General rather than St Thomas. Sacramento was close enough to Charming without being too close, but - being the push over that she was - she had let her father talk her into moving home. "Nothing's more important than family," he had stated, using her brother's recent release from prison to really drive the point home. Now here she was, stalking the hallways of St Thomas Hospital, the scent of antiseptic flooding her nose, as she followed the directions given to her by the admin staff to the nearest elevator. She had just about ran from the desk when the lady behind it asked if she was related to "those Winston's."

She pulled her long, dark hair out from the ponytail she'd put it in, hoping it would provide some kind of barrier between her and anyone who may recognize her. It had been nearly 10 years since she had last stepped foot in Charming. Her stomach had been lead weight since she had driven past the welcome sign at the edge of town. She jabbed the elevator button as she stopped in front of the closed doors, tapping her foot impatiently. She quickly scanned the area behind her, regretting the action as soon as her eyes met his. Jax Teller. Quickly she looked away and hoped that he hadn’t seen her.

"Ronnie?" She sighed when he called her name. Shoving her phone into the pocket of her scrubs she turned and smiled at him. "Hey Jax," she sent a silent prayer to the elevator gods that the stupid thing would hurry up and arrive. "Jesus, how long has it been?" he asked, pulling her into a quick one armed hug. "Nearly 10 years," she shrugged, kicking the toe of her shoe on the linoleum. "Yeah I guess so… your Pops didn’t say anything about you being back in town?" he asked, adjusting his cut. Her eyes found the Vice President patch sewn there. She raised her eyebrows. "I ah… asked him not to tell anyone. Ope too." Jax cocked an eyebrow and angled his head in question. "Alright…" he murmured. "I'll keep this under wraps then." Ronnie smiled appreciatively.

"You visiting someone?" she asked. His face dropped and suddenly she regretted asking him. "My kid is up in the NICU. He had surgery last night." Ronnie sighed and shook her head. "Shit Jax, I hope everything's ok." He shrugged and glanced down the hallway. "He's looking ok. Strong little guy. Shit with Wendy ya know…" he shrugged. "Damn, she still not got her shit together?" she asked. Jax shook his head. "Well he is a Teller. I'm sure he will pull through." Jax grinned proudly and nodded. "Well, you should come by Gemma's place sometime. She's still in the same house. I'm sure she would love to see you," Jax began to make his way down the hallway, throwing a wave behind him as he left. "Yeah, sure," Ronnie mumbled half heartedly. The elevator doors finally opened and Ronnie got in, pressing the button for the bottom floor. She found the doors she was looking for, the sign above indicating that she had reached the morgue. Of course, it would be strange to admit that she felt at home in a morgue. Which is why she never said it out loud. But it was true. Pulling her hair back into it's ponytail she walked through the doors, ready for a fresh start.

10 hours later Ronnie stood in the parking lot, stretching her back as the balmy early evening air settled around her. It appeared that being an assistant medical examiner in Charming wasn't going to be as fast paced as her previous location. She had spent part of her morning reviewing the one case they currently had open - a hit and run that had happened in the Charming jurisdiction although only by literal centimetres - and then the rest of her time she archived historical paperwork and counted down the minutes until her scheduled breaks. Ronnie groaned at the pain in her back, cursing herself for sitting with shitty posture for her whole shift, when suddenly someone cleared their throat. She turned and spotted the row of Harley's parked against the curb.

A guy around her age, with golden brown skin and a mohawk with two tattoos inked either side of it, sat on the bike at the very end. He was sporting one of the most gorgeous smiles she had ever seen and he was directing it at her. Ronnie's stomach buzzed, but she told it to pipe down when she spotted the cut she was wearing - one with a patch identical to her brother and fathers. She looked around in case he was looking at someone else, but they were the only two souls in the lot. "Nice ink," he said, jutting his chin in her direction. She looked down at her right arm, as if noticing the various designs tattooed there for the first time. Feeling her face warming, she met his stare. "Thanks, you too," she murmured, before walking to her car and hastily getting behind the wheel. Putting the key in the ignition she started it up, cursing and looking back at the man on the bike in her mirror as the engine coughed and sputtered before starting up. Pulling out of the lot, Ronnie began her journey home.

Juice smirked as he watched the black Toyota SUV pull out of the hospital parking lot. He had never seen the woman who had driven it away before, but the fullness of her hips and the soft curving of her waist had him wanting to see more of her. Juice would admit that it didn't take much to rev his engine but the way she had raised her eyebrow at him in indifference, how her tattoos covered the soft looking skin of her arm and the groan she let out as she stretched her back… almost had him adjusting himself in his pants. "Hey idiot," Tig smacked him up the back of the head. "What's got you so goddam happy?" Juice only grinned and shook his head. "Just thinkin' about Sack and that deer." Tig laughed and pointed straight at him. "Bet you're glad you're not the bottom of the food chain no more, huh?" Juice nodded as he watched the rest of his brothers exit the hospital, strapping his helmet on and starting up his dyna.

Ronnie sat on the small sofa in her loungeroom, an open beer on the coffee table and a microwaved dinner on her lap. She aimlessly flicked through channels, stopping briefly on the local news channel when she saw the headlines "San Leandro Warehouse Fire, Multiple Deaths." "Jesus Christ," she mumbled, taking a sip of beer. Suddenly, her phone ringing pulled her attention from the tv. Flicking it open, she saw her father's landline number and answered. "Hey Pop," she smiled. "Hey sweetheart," her father's rough timber came through the receiver. "How was your first day?" Ronnie smiled. She had missed this. Her father only really called once every couple of months when she had been gone from Charming, and she was certainly guilty of avoiding calling him. But since being back he seemed to really be interested in what was happening in her life.

"It was good dad, same shit different state really." Piney laughed. "Well that's good to hear, Ron, good to hear." She rolled her eyes at the nickname. "Listen, I was going to head over to Opie and Donna's place for dinner. Why don’t you come too? See the kids and say hello," Piney trailed off, leaving the buzz of the phone line ringing in Ronnie's ears. "I don’t know dad, I mean… I've already had dinner and," she paused, blowing out a sigh. "I don’t think Ope would want me there." Her father grunted on the other end, no doubt rolling his eyes identically to the way she had moments beforehand. "He's your brother. Of course he wants you there," he said. Ronnie closed her eyes. "Alright, I'll come see them. Do you need a ride?"

Ronnie pulled up out the front of her brothers house, parking her car next to Piney's trike. She made her way up the path to the front door, wringing her hands together in anxiety. She tersely rapped her knuckles against the door, her stomach in knots. Donna pulled the door open, her eyes widening at the site of her sister-in-law. "Veronica!" she exclaimed, glancing back into the house. "I didn’t know you were coming," Donna said, awkwardly smiling. "Oh, shit sorry, I thought dad might have said something. He kind of… invited me I guess," Ronnie said. Trust Piney to not say shit. "It's fine," Donna stepped aside, motioning for Ronnie to enter. "Come in. I've just served dinner, are you hungry?" Ronnie shook her head as she entered the house. "Nah I already ate. Thanks though." She continued to blindly follow the hallway, hoping she was going the right way.

The hall opened up into the dining room and Veronica stopped short as she saw Piney, Opie and her niece and nephew, Ellie and Kenny, sitting at the table with plates in front of them. "Hey," Ronnie cleared her throat. "Hey Ope. Hi Ellie, Kenny." She waved at the kids. They awkwardly waved back, glancing at their dad. Opie dropped his fork, making Ronnie and the kids jump as it clattered against his plate. "Ope?!" Donna started from behind Ronnie. "Not hungry," he grunted out before he made his way out the back door into the backyard, slamming the door behind him. The silence in the room was deafening as Ronnie internally fought with what she should do next. She smiled at the kids again before she followed her brother through the door. Opie sat on a porch swing that was in the back corner of the backyard, a lit cigarette between his lips.

Ronnie made her way over to him, her black boots scuffing along the short patched of turf and dirt. "Those things will kill ya, you know," she motioned to his cigarette. Opie ignored her, taking a long drag. "Look, Ope…" she began, pushing her hands into her pockets. "I know you’re not my biggest fan right n-" "You really think you can just come back like you didn’t just drop off the face of the earth for 10 years?" he cut her off. Ronnie sighed, running her hand over her hair, gathering it over one shoulder. "Dropping off the face of the earth is slightly dramatic, don’t ya think?" Opie met her eyes, his mouth a hard line. "Dad was already sick before you left and you just disappearing only made him worse. You missed my wedding!" he took a another draw of his cigarette. "My kids hardly even know their Aunt…" he laughed without humour and shook his head. "And you just walk in and say hi? You really think that would be it?"

Ronnie sighed and sat next to her brother on the porch swing. "I'm… I'm sorry Ope. I couldn't stay," she cracked her knuckles, habit her mother always scolded her for when she was little. "I honestly didn’t realise I'd hurt you this bad." Opie shook his head, knocking his knee against Ronnie's. "You're my baby sister," he mumbled. "We already had so much time apart after mom and dad divorced. It felt like I had gotten you back for a little while and then you just took off." Ronnie's heart sank. She never gave her brother much credit for just how much he loved his family - although he didn’t always show it. "Shit Ope. You know I didn't do it to hurt you. I had to get away. Away from," she swallowed thickly, her skin crawling. "Him." Opie scoffed. "You know we wouldn’t have let him put his hands on you. Me, Pops. Shit even Jax would put a bullet in his head before he let you get hurt."

Ronnie shook her head. "But he did put his hands on me Ope. Distance," she sighed. "Distance felt like the best option. And this place. This town," she motioned with her hand. "Everywhere I went it felt like him. Felt like he had tainted it somehow. Even being back now," she shivered, running her hands up and down her arms. "I'm sick to my stomach Ope. He could pop up anywhere." Opie turned to his sister, his stare cutting her off. "You see one glimpse of him, you tell me. I won't let that shit stain near you." Ronnie smiled flatly, patting Opie's back and standing. "Yeah yeah, I'll put you on speed dial," she smiled. Opie huffed a laugh and stood. Ronnie smiled and pulled him into a brief hug. "Still not okay with you going ghost," he said. She nodded, pulling away. "I know. But I'm here now. And I'm gonna make up for these last 10 years."

Ronnie walked arm in arm with her father to where their vehicles were parked. "Well after your brothers tantrum, that all seemed to go okay," Piney said, leaning over to kiss his daughter on the head. "Yeah Pops, you know Ope. He's soft at heart. Won’t be long and I'll be back in his good books," she smiled, watching Piney climb aboard his trike. "You working tomorrow sweetheart?" he asked, buckling his helmet on. She nodded, unlocking her SUV. "Yeah I'm always working." Piney smiled, his old heart warming knowing there was no longer distance between him and his two kids. "Alright, I'll follow you home. Make sure you get there safe." Ronnie began to protest and then remembered her conversation with her brother. "That would be great, thanks Pop." She slid into the drivers seat of her car and tried to start the engine. The car coughed and chugged once before it conked out completely. "Piece of shit," she slammed her hands against the wheel. Piney lifted his arms in a questioning manner. She jumped out. "Car won’t start." Piney motioned back to Opie's house. "Get your brother to drive you home, I'll get someone from TM to come tow your car to the garage tomorrow." Ronnie sighed and bid her father farewell before she made her way back up the path towards Opie's house.

#sons of anarchy #soa #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic #juice ortiz #juice soa #juan carlos ortiz #juan carlos juice ortiz #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz fic #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz x oc

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criesbc1d · 9 months

Text

Black Mamba

“Payne! Their’s a woman here to see ya!”

Liam grabs a towel. Walks out of the ring, wiping himself off. In the office is where I am sitting. He opens the door and a small smile creeps up on his lips.

“Hello love, long time no see.”

“Hello Mr Payne, it’s been about five years or so since we’ve last seen each other.”

“Has it been that long?” His eyebrows raise, thinking into it. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been alright. Just here for an interview.”

“is that so? Not here for yourself then?”

“Afraid not Mr. Payne. Strictly business.”

“That’s a shame. Would’ve liked to catch up with you.”

I smiled at him. Five years was quite some time in-between two lovers. Interview was short and sweet. Straight to the point. I was listening to every word that slipped through his lips. Oh, how I had missed those kissing my body. His hands caressing my skin. So tender, so gentle, so kind.

I shake my head and smile to myself. I knew this would happen when I walked through that door. The temptation eating at me.

“I really missed that sly smile of yours.” Liam says softly. “One of the bet things to see in the morning.”

“You remember?”

“It’s never left my mind. We were electric.”

I smile at him. Both of us sitting across from each other, studying the other in silence. A comfortable silence I had since forgotten.

I take a deep breath. “Is this interview to your liking Mr. Payne? Do I have everything in order as you please?”

He reads over what I have written down. Nodding in agreement. “I’d expect nothing less from you love.”

“Thank you, sir. I must get going. I have other paperwork to do.” I say, putting my pen and paper in my bag, standing up and pushing my chair in. “It was really nice to see you.”

He smiles at me, leaning back on his chair. “You were always straight to the point, I admire that about you.”

“Thank you Mr. Payne. Must get going now.” I smile nd open the door to leave the office.

“Say, maybe we grab a drink tonight or sometime this week, catch up?”

“I’m free Wednesday night. Eight pm sharp.” I wink at him as I close the door behind me, walking out to my car. Smiling and biting my lip as I drive off.

Arriving back at the office, it was hard for me to stop smiling. Especially when I was writing the interview for the paper. I print it off and lay it on my boss’ desk. He looks it over, eyebrows raised, slightly impressed. “That was fast, kid. Good work.”

I smile and thank him, heading back to my desk. I finish a couple more stories up for the upcoming days.

Leaving work, I stopped and grabbed some food on the way home.

Eating then showering, it was time for bed. My smile never leaving my lips as I drift off to sleep.

****

Wednesday arrives. I am up bright and early. Make myself coffee and some breakfast. Get dressed and off I go to work. Having dates here and there the last few years hasn’t made me this excited. Maybe I really had missed him.

Thoughts of our ecstasy ran through my mind all day. How I managed to get two more stories written out for the paper is beyond me. I had been in dreamland all day. The day went relatively fast since I was somewhere else. I leave work early to pay a few bills before heading home. Stopping at one of my favorite boutique shops. Finding a dress for tonight. A dark blue velvet, hanging off my shoulders, stopping just above my knees. Showing some cleavage and a necklace my mother got me when I last visited. I head back to my place, showering and putting on a simple face. Dressing in the new dress and some black heels. He’ll be here any minute.

I hear a knock on my door. I double check myself before opening it. He looks me up and down. A smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. “You look dashing, darling.”

I blush slightly, grabbing my clutch as he leads me to the elevator. Stepping inside, his arm wrapping around behind me. Keeping his hand at the small of my back as we leave the elevator and out the door to his vehicle. He opens the door for me, getting in on the other side.

“Where to Mr. Payne?”

“The Valley on Broadway Street, Phil. Thank you.”

The driver nods, checking traffic and driving us off. We sit silently in the back. Sharing glances at each other. It felt good to be with him again.

Arriving at the restaurant, Liam gets out and opens the door for me, grabbing my hand to help me out of the car. His hand on the small of my back again as he checks in his reservation.

“Inside or outside?”

“Hm? Oh, outside is fine.” I smile, people watching. The waiter leads us to the rooftop where there wasn’t very many tables.

It was quiet on top. Only the sound of the roaring street below us. It was a beautiful night to fall in love again.

The waiter brings us menus and a bottle of wine. “I got you your favorite.” Liam smiles at me. I look at the label for it to say Pinot Grigio. I smile as I hold my glass for him to pour it for me.

“Thank you Li. I thought we were only doing drinks tonight?”

“It’s been quite some time since I’ve heard anyone call me that. I missed the way it slips off your lips. I might add, you are not dressed for just drinks are you?” He smirks at me, making me blush again.

“I suppose I am not. I just wanted to look good tonight.” I sip my wine. Humming at how good it is.

“You look good no matter what you wear. I prefer you naked, honestly.” I giggle at his remark, remembering how complimentary he’s always been to me.

“How has life been to you since we’ve last spoke?” I ask.

“It was rough for awhile after you left, you know? I understand the bigger picture now but it still stung. Been training and winning matches mostly. I had to put my emotions into something useful.” He looks at me. “I forgave you for leaving when you did. Took me a bit but I did. I just wish you had talked to me about it before disappearing.”

I hold his hand in mine, looking right into his eyes. “I did what I had to do to protect you. There was a lot of money sitting on our shoulders. It was either me or you at the time. I’m sorry for leaving without saying goodbye but it was for the best.”

“Like I said, I understand now.” He kisses the top of my hand in reassurance that his words are genuine. “That’s in the past now. Right now, I want this to be about us rekindling - even if it’s just for a night.”

I stare at him as we order some food, having another glass of wine together. Chatting about our daily lives now. Him telling me about his boxing matches, winning and losing some. Me telling him about the office life and how difficult it is to get a good story sometimes. Both of us genuinely interested in each other. Our food arrives. We eat quietly. Opening another bottle of wine. Giggling and small talk between us. Time went by slowly. Enjoying each others company. I haven’t felt this relaxed in quite some time. I could feel myself getting tipsy. He smiles at me, helping me up, paying for the meal. And tipping the waiter. He helps me to the car, opening the door for me again. Getting in on the other side. His arm wrapping over my shoulders. His other hand on my leg, exploring my dress. Whispering how good my dress feels under his fingertips.

Arriving back at my place, he helps me out and onto the elevator. I lean into him, taking in his cologne. He kisses the top of my he’d as. He leads me to my door.

“Are you coming in?” I ask softly.

“This is where I’m leaving you.” He smiles. I look at him almost confused. He chuckles at me. “I don’t want to lose you again. So let’s take this slow, yeah?”

I smile up at him. He cups my cheek with one hand, kissing me deeply. I can feel our electricity sparking again. Like it never left us. I lean into him, the kiss making me weak. He pulls away slowly and smiles at me. “Until next time my love, I promise.”

I hum softly, stepping into my place, closing the door behind me. I get undressed, starting the coffee machine for the morning, crawling into bed. “Until next time.” I whisper to myself, smiling as I fall asleep.

#liam #Liam payne #smut #Liam payne fanfiction #Liam payne blurb #Liam payne imagine #Liam payne smut #criesbc1d #im so nervous to post this #let me know if you want part two

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queen-of-writing-bad-things · 3 months

Text

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 1

Episode 6: Substitute Teacher

~Junk-N-Stuff~

"Oh, yes. You are a nice thing." Gooch cooed as he stroked the top of his new machine. In fact, he loved it so much, he wanted to show it off to more people, so he decided to alert everyone down in the Man Cave that something was wrong.

"Gooch! What happened?" Ray and (y/n) came running from the back, heavily panting. They had rushed upstairs together, thinking that Gooch was in terrible danger.

"Why did you send us an emergency signal?" (y/n) said breathlessly, her chest still heaving. She hadn't run like that since college.

"Look. That's a garbage juicer." Gooch showed them, a proud look on his face, but Ray and the woman next to him just stared back in disbelief.

"A garbage juicer?" Ray couldn't believe it. (y/n) rested her arm on his shoulder, her breathing coming back down.

"It juices garbage," Gooch explained, even though its name was self-explanatory.

"Gooch, we were busy downstairs looking for criminals." Ray chastised him, but the Indian man still gave them a demonstration.

"Watch. I just dump the garbage into the thingy." Gooch said as he emptied a load of trash into the top of the machine, the smell making (y/n) gag.

"Gooch..." She tried to tell him that they were busy, but the storekeeper wouldn't listen.

"Now, observe." Gooch pressed the button and put a glass underneath the nozzle of the machine. It whirred to life and started to liquefy the garbage. A greyish-brown juice started to fill the glass cup and the smell was revolting. The two watching the process stepped back in repulsion.

"You see? The garbage is gone. It's all in the juice." Gooch seemed pretty impressed, but the woman in front of him had started to turn green.

"I think I'm gonna puke." She looked away into Ray's shoulder and he curled a protective arm around her.

"Can we go back downstairs now?" He asked to which Gooch just looked down, giving him a silent answer. He grabbed (y/n)'s hand and started to lead her away from the juice before she could throw up.

"Ray! We gotta talk to you!" Henry burst through the shop door, Charlotte in tow.

"This is important." The girl added in, they walked towards the retreating pair.

"Please, I will be sick." (y/n) moaned at the man holding her hand, using the other one to hold her mouth.

"There's a creepy new kid at our school." Henry started to tell Ray.

"Ugh, can we talk about it downstairs? Gooch's juice smells and I think (y/n)'s about to barf." Ray complained, grimacing at the juice that was still on the counter.

"Okay." The kids agreed, following their bosses downstairs, leaving Gooch to drink his garbage juice alone.

"Why do think this Ortho kid is up to something?" Ray asked them in the elevator as the door shut.

"Well, he was asking about the school's water supply." Henry said. (y/n) hugged Ray's waist tightly in preparation for what was about to come, hating the trip down in the faulty elevator. His density meant that he didn't really feel the weightless effect as much as anyone else.

"And he wanted to know about the security cameras and--" Charlotte was interrupted by Ray reaching across and pressing the descent button. His arms went around the woman hugging him so they could secure her to his chest.

The elevator dropped with an immediate effect, causing Henry and Charlotte to scream in terror. They wildly moved around the falling machine, but Ray was perfectly fine.

"I wonder why he was asking those things." He tried to say to his companions, but they were too scared to answer. (y/n) buried her face into his chest even further, also feeling like she was about to die.

"Guys? Oh, stop screaming." Ray told the kids, not understanding why they were kicking up such a big fuss.

They landed with a thud, and Ray waddled out the door, (y/n) still clutching his waist. Seeing that they were now safely back in the Man Cave, she let go of Ray and blushed, but thankfully, he didn't see.

"Can't that elevator be adjusted?" Charlotte looked at her.

"I've been asking for years, but he never fixes it." (y/n) told her, playfully glowering at Ray. Despite the bumpy ride down, her stomach didn't feel as queasy anymore, now that the juice was no longer under her nose.

"Why'd you say this Ortho kid is creepy?" Ray asked them again, the eventful trip with the pretty girl's hands around his waist had made his mind hazy.

"Because he says weird stuff. And he's got this crazy psycho look in his eye." Henry said, a small shiver going down his spine at the thought of the weird kid.

"You got a pic?" The superhero asked them, wanting to see this boy.

"Uh... Jasper's twitflash." Charlotte proposed.

"Oh, yeah. Jasper posted a pic of him and Ortho on his Twitflash." Henry said, as (y/n) went over to the supercomputer and loaded everything up.

"Let's have a look then." She said with a smile.

Henry had synced his phone to the computer, so the screen mirrored what was on it and everyone could see. To get the 'Ortho photo', first, he had to go through Jasper's bucket posts, of which there were many.

"Bucket. Bucket. Selfie with bucket. Bucket. Bucket." Ray and (y/n) looked at each other, sharing the same thought.

"Kid has bucket problem." She said to him.

"Yep, he sure does." Ray giggled with her.

"Ah. That's Ortho right there." Henry exclaimed, finally scrolling to the right picture. Ray walked to the computer chair and sat down, pulling (y/n) along with him so she could settle in his lap. It was a position they often adopted when alone. However, the fact that there were other people in the room at that moment flustered the woman, so she busied herself by playing with her sleeve.

"Well, he's definitely a boy." Ray said, which made the girl on his knee roll her eyes.

"You should've called yourself Captain Obvious." She sassed, staring at the Ortho kid in the picture. She could swear he looked familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.

"A boy that's up to no good." Charlotte quipped, not trusting the new boy.

"Oh, give him a break." Ray said, confusing the kids. They thought he would agree with them that Ortho was some criminal mastermind.

"What?" They both cried out.

"Yeah, the kid's new to your school, he's probably just a little awkward. Let's not make mumps out of marshmallows." (y/n) reasoned with Ray, despite the voice in her head telling her otherwise.

"He also threatened you." Henry deadpanned Ray, making him jump up. (y/n) fell out of his lap and tumbled to the floor. She looked up at Ray, who didn't notice her deathly glare.

"Me? What'd that little marsh mump say?" He growled.

"Friend on the floor here." (y/n) waved her hands in the air, prompting Ray to help her up.

"That his father was going to ''take care'' of you" Charlotte recalled, as Ray's hands squeezed his best friend's fingers in anger.

"Oh, did he? Well, we'll just see about..." Ray said, laughing but not from joy. Ortho had made this personal. (y/n) cut off his threat after Charlotte's words bounced around in her head, activating her muscle memory.

"Wait, did you say his father?" She looked to the kids, her brain racing to fit all the puzzle pieces together.

"Yep."

"Sure did." They confirmed and the woman started to snap her fingers at the computer.

"Henry, put that kid's pic back on the monitor and zoom in." She instructed. Once she was looking at the photo again, she covered the kid's face with her hand and looked at Ray.

"Does that hair look familiar to you?" She asked the man, who sat down again in thought.

"Oh my god." He said, realising who she was talking about.

"You guys ever heard of Drill Finger?" He turned to Henry and Charlotte.

"Those little pickles?" Charlotte was mistaken.

"I think those are Dill Fingers." Henry said, and the kids began to joke with each other about pickles.

"No, no, no, this is not about pickles!" (y/n) clicked her fingers to get their attention.

"We're talking about a dentist." Ray said seriously, the adults remembering the last time Captain Man encountered him.

"Named Drill Finger?" Henry queried.

"Yeah." The superhero confirmed.

"Well, he used to be a dentist, but then he turned evil and began a life of crime." (y/n) told the story, Henry and Charlotte leaning closer in curiosity.

"Three years ago, he kidnapped the mayor of Swellview and removed all his teeth." She described, making them shudder.

"That's why he only eats soup." Henry matched up to her story.

"Exactly." She replied.

"And what happened to Drill Finger?" Charlotte asked the adults.

"I captured him and took him to jail. But he was released three weeks ago" Ray divulged, making the four think that the villain was back and out for revenge. (y/n) tapped a few buttons and brought up his mugshot so they could compare it to Ortho.

"That's Drill Finger." Ray told them.

"Does he always wear a mask?" Henry asked, wanting to see his face.

"Yeah, but look at his hair. It's the same as Ortho's." (y/n) pointed out. Ray pressed the camera link button, opening the feed with Junk-N-Stuff, revealing that Gooch was on the phone.

"Hey, I can't talk right now. I"m on the phone with my nephew, Benji. He has the chickenpox." He said, removing the phone from his ear.

"Do you remember when I put Drill Finger in jail?" Ray asked.

"Of course."

"What were his exact words as they took him away?" He questioned, looking thoughtfully at the monitor.

"He said, "As soon as I get out of here, I'm gonna take care of Captain Man."" Gooch answered in a menacing voice.

"That's what I thought." He said, as (y/n) folded her arms behind him.

"Dude, I could've told you that." She said.

"I wanted an independent party." Ray gave her his puppy dog eyes, and like always, they melted her annoyance away.

"Great. I've got to go." Gooch said, and Ray cut off the video and walked across the room in thought.

"So, Ortho is the son of Drill Finger?" Henry theorised.

"I knew it. I knew that boy was evil. I knew it." Charlotte said over and over again and (y/n) was inclined to agree with her. All the facts were pointing one way.

"Yeah, but did you know it?" Henry bantered.

"I did." Charlotte quipped back, feeling good about herself.

"But what are they up to?" Ray asked, the thought of criminals plotting made him uneasy.

"Well, I guess you're not gonna figure it out by wearing a ridiculously loud shirt and stroking your chin." (y/n) sassed him, even though she loved the way the shirt made his arms look huge and even through the bold pattern, she could see the way his back muscles rolled and tensed.

"What do we do?" Charlotte looked to the superhero for ideas.

"We're gonna do a little spying on your new classmate, Ortho." He answered, gesturing to himself and (y/n) who looked at him in surprise.

"What? You're taking me out into the field?" She said, excited at the prospect of spending time with him and getting out of the Man Cave for a change.

"We'll need to find a way into your school, maybe as substitute teachers." He said, the plan forming in his head. (y/n) nodded along, thinking that they just might get away with it.

"We can't just wait until one of our teachers gets sick." Charlotte pointed out, knowing that it could be weeks of waiting.

"We might not have to..." (y/n) thought aloud, stroking her chin as Ray did earlier, everyone copying her actions. Ray looked at her fondly, seeing her devious plan grow in her head.

~Later that day, Swellview High~

Ray, Gooch, Gooch's nephew and (y/n) were sneaking around the corridors of Henry's school. Following the young woman's plan, they needed to find the sidekick's history teacher, Miss Shapen. She was their target and Benji was their key. Ray being Ray, he had insisted that he and Gooch put on disguises to blend in with the students, but in truth, it just made them look plain weird.

"You two look ridiculous." She whispered to them, being dressed in her normal clothes. Ray's 'teenage' sweatshirt, complete with a long gold chain and Gooch's long trenchcoat made the pair stick out like sore thumbs, but they didn't listen to her.

Rounding the corner, they peeked past the lockers and saw Miss Shapen waltz through the main doors, minding her own business.

"Look, that's one of Henry's teachers, Miss Shapen." Ray said in a hushed tone.

"Just the woman I was looking for." (y/n) smirked.

"Let's do this." Gooch put a fedora on his head and Ray put on some dark sunglasses in a poor attempt to conceal their identities.

"My chickenpox itches." Benji said, scratching at the spots on his back and chest. (y/n) crouched down in front of him.

"Benji, never tell anyone about this. There's ice cream in it for you afterwards." She said, looking both ways, before signalling for them to move once the teacher was in position.

"Move, move, move!" She said, and the three scrambled. Gooch seized Miss Shapen by the arms restraining her movements, as Ray lifted Benji by his arms and started rubbing his pox-riddled body over Miss Shapen's face. (y/n) stood guard by the corners, acting as the lookout in case a student or member of staff heard the commotion.

"HEY! Stop! Ahhh, what is going on?!" The teacher screamed, but all the students were in class, so all she could do was struggle against the men.

~The next day~

In Henry's history class, the kids stood around talking and laughing amongst themselves since no teacher had turned up yet. Jasper walked in and tried to get their attention, as he had some exciting news.

"Hey, guys!" He shouted, but no one paid attention.

"HEY, GUYS!" He shouted louder, but still, no one heard him apart from Henry, who paused his conversation with Charlotte and addressed the class for him.

"Hey, guys." This time everyone listened, slightly offending Jasper, but he quickly shrugged it off, as he remembered what he wanted to tell them.

"Principal says Miss Shapen has chickenpox."

All right, free day." Henry said excitedly, and the class cheered with him, but Jasper quickly quelled their enthusiasm.

"No, no, no. No. He said we're getting a substitute." Everyone jeered when he said that, their happy mood dissolving.

"You don't think Ray and (y/n)..." Charlotte eyed Henry suspiciously, but he didn't share her look of misapprehension.

"Nah, he wouldn't--" He was instantly eating his words as Ray burst in with (y/n) behind him. He was wearing a bold-check suit, glasses and had slicked his hair down with one thick curl at the front. Unlike him, (y/n) had chosen a normal disguise, which was just a typical teacher outfit she threw together.

"Hello, children." He said with a strange British accent. The entire class looked at him in confusion, as (y/n) struggled to take him seriously, a smile fighting to grow on her face.

"Everyone, please take your seats." He told them, walking in front of the board. (y/n) smiled at the class, even though the twenty-something pairs of eyes on her made her feel very, very small.

"It seems your regular teacher has caught the pox of a chicken." He spluttered out, his weird behaviour not helping (y/n)'s nerves.

"Nasty red bumpies all over her." He said, the accent making some kids in the back giggle and Henry look back at Charlotte in horror.

"But not to worry, I am your substitute, Mr Gelding." He tried to write his name on the whiteboard, but it wouldn't all fit, so he gave up.

"And this! This is my lovely teaching assistant, Miss Phalange." He said, pointing his arm straight at the young woman a few meters from him. She blushed at the word 'lovely', but waved at the class and greeted them.

"Hello everyone." At least the class weren't laughing at her. Henry could deal with (y/n) being the teacher; she actually looked like one, but Ray was being too weird. He got up and went to talk to him at the front of the class.

"Ray, are you kidding me?" He hissed, trying to keep his voice down.

"Shhh, I know what I'm doing." He whispered back.

"This is not going to work." Henry squeaked, as (y/n) eyed them in panic. The class were getting creeped out.

"It might work if you..." Ray muttered.

"You look ridiculous, at least (y/n) looks like a teacher." The teen tried to talk some sense into him.

"..just sit down."

"Can you talk to me about this?" Henry tried to reason.

"No, I can't talk to you about this. Now sit down and trust me." Ray seethed, wanting to get on with the lesson.

"You two are causing a scene." (y/n) ridiculed them, grabbing their ears sharply so they'd break apart.

"SIT DOWN BOY!" Ray scolded Henry, making the boy retreat to his desk.

"Yes, Mr Gelding." He complied, wobbling back to his seat.

"Okay class, let's take a roll call." (y/n) swallowed, as Ray rested on the teacher's desk. He grabbed his PearPad and looked at the list of names.

"We'll start with first names that begin with "O"." He said, wanting to single out Ortho.

"My name is Oliver." One of the bug-eating boys raised his hand.

"Shut up, Oliver," Ray said harshly, not really caring about the other students.

"Where's, uh, where's Ortho?" He said, looking around at the kid's face. Tentatively, the ginger-haired boy raised his hand, declaring his presence.

"Hello, Ortho," Ray said in a strange, ominous voice. (y/n) crept up behind him and stood and her tiptoes, getting as close as she could to the tall man's ear.

"You're being weird again." She whispered, and he moved back to the board so he could muddle his way through teaching.

"Now then class, who can tell me about the isosceles triangle?" He asked the class, making (y/n) facepalm. 'I told him not to be weird.' She groaned in her mind.

"Sir? This is a history class." Jasper pointed out.

"Who can tell me about the history of the isosceles triangle?" Ray changed the question, the directed it at Ortho.

"Ortho, what do you know?" He stared at the boy, who squirmed in his seat.

"Um--I...I--I'm new." He stuttered, trying to hint that, he had no idea what was happening.

"Excuse me, Mr Gelding. Can I please talk to you outside in the hall?" Henry interrupted, standing from his chair.

"I'm in the middle of a lesson," Ray replied, wanting Henry to trust him.

"I have a question about my personal hygiene." Henry said in a loud and uncaring voice, forcing Ray to listen to him.

"To the hall, we go. Miss Phalange, take over." He said, trudging towards the door, (y/n) shrinking into herself at the thought of teaching alone.

"Hey, I have lots of questions about my hygiene." Jasper shouted at 'Mr Gelding' who just looked at him in disgust.

"Okayyyy class, who can tell me about..." (y/n) looked around the class and saw Charlotte pointing at her open book, which she had lifted so the older woman could see its contents. She quickly looked over the page and caught up on what they were studying.

"...The Colombian War of Independence?" Several hands went up, and she picked some students at random, feeling calmer now she had clever Charlotte to help her out.

~Meanwhile, in the hall~

"What are you doing? Why are you and (y/n) in my school?" Henry reproached his boss as soon as the door was closed.

"We're spying on Ortho." He said in the weird English voice, annoying Henry further.

"Will you stop with the accent?" Henry commented.

"We're spying on Ortho." Ray repeated, this time using his normal American drawl.

"Well, what'd you do with our regular teacher?" He asked, wondering what had happened to Miss Shapen.

"We gave her a disease." Ray revealed contritely.

"Oh my god." Henry looked away to the wall, not believing what he was hearing.

"Just chickenpox." Ray protested.

"That's the worst kind of pox." The teen whisper-yelled back.

"What about tuna pox?" The superhero tried to catch him out, but it didn't work.

"There's no such thing as tuna pox. You just like getting out of the Man Cave with your girlfriend." Henry couldn't help the words that fell from his lips.

"Okay, she's not my girlfriend, so just leave it. And, you and Charlotte were the ones that said Ortho's up to no good." Ray reminded him, getting defensive at the mention of (y/n) in that context.

"We already know his dad's Drill Finger. Now we just need to figure out what they're planning." Ray said, checking the window to see how the class was doing.

To his surprise, the classroom door opened and (y/n) stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her.

"What's taking so long? The bucket kid keeps asking me questions about his personal hygiene." She looked between them, wondering why Ray's ears were pink.

"So?" Henry didn't understand the problem, normally (y/n) was so supportive and helpful with problems.

"So, you both better get back in there before I tell him things he does not wanna know." She threatened with a finger pointing to both of them. Turning around, she marched back into the class. Ray's eyes followed her until she was out of sight and then he looked at Henry again.

"Okay, you clear on the plan?" He asked him.

"No!" Henry cried since there was no plan.

"Let's go," Ray said, walking back in, Henry on his heels.

"I just wanna know if I should use different soaps for different parts of me." Jasper was asking (y/n). Charlotte looked at him like he had grown another head.

"Boy, no more questions for Miss Phalange. Now, history is filled with stories of evil, nasty people. Who can name some?" Ray questioned the class, actually being a semi-competent teacher.

"Oooh, Gengis Khan." Jasper suggested and Ray accepted his answer.

"Voldemort." Oliver Pook suggested, which Ray also agreed with, even though (y/n) knew he was a fictional character from Harry Potter.

"Big Bird?" Charlotte shouted out, making (y/n) furrow her eyebrows at the suggestion.

"Absolutely. Now... who can name some other evil people? Ortho?" Ray targeted the boy again. 'Captain Subtle strikes again.' The helper inwardly monologued.

"Um..." The boy stuttered, not knowing what to say.

"Oh, think Ortho. Surely you must know someone with evil intentions." Ray pressured him, speaking in a hard voice.

"Like oh, I don't know? Someone trying to sabotage this school?" (y/n) interjected, trying to keep up her teacher façade.

"Yeah, Ortho." Charlotte agreed, she and Henry turning around in their seats so they could glare at the kid.

"I--I don't understand." He looked up at Ray in confusion.

"What are your plans?" Ray leaned on his desk and leant in closer to the boy, trying to intimidate him.

"Um, after class, I plan to eat a turkey wrap." He offered, not knowing what else to say.

"Aha!" Charlotte pointed at it, thinking it was part of some evil plan. Ray grabbed the bag and shredded it so all the contents could out. Grabbing Ortho's lunch, he chucked it over his back to Henry.

"You, student, examine Ortho's turkey wrap." Henry opened the lunch bag and tore the wrap apart to see if anything was inside.

"What is going on?" Jasper was so confused, as was the rest of the class.

"Wrap's clean." Henry reported, the filling falling on the floor. Ray walked to the front of the class again.

"Now, students to really know history, we must first learn your history." The superhero decided to switch tactics.

"So, tomorrow, it's Bring Your Father To Class Day." (y/n) butted in, but Ray liked her plan even more than his own so he went along with it.

"All our fathers?" Jasper asked innocently.

"No, let's just start with one father." Of course, they didn't need a class full of fathers. Just one in particular.

"My father lives in our basement." Oliver Pook mentioned.

"Put your hands over your face." 'Mr Gelding' directed him, that way he wouldn't have to speak with him.

"Ortho. You bring your father to class tomorrow." Ray looked at the ginger boy.

"O--okay." He agreed, still feeling uncomfortable with the situation.

"Look, I put your wrap back together." Jasper passed it to him, whilst Oliver Pook spoke again.

"I can't breathe." With all the weird kids in class, it made (y/n) feel grateful that she was a superhero's helper, not a teacher.

"Okay, class dismissed.' Ray said, grabbing (y/n)'s hand and pulling her out of the class since their work was done.

~The next day~

'Mr Gelding' and 'Miss Phalange' were back into the class the next morning. Despite changing his clothes to a thick, blue jumper and grey slacks, Ray still looked absurd as the hair and glasses were still the same. (y/n) had chosen another simple, yet believable disguise and it seemed that the class genuinely liked her.

Beginning the class, Ray glared at Ortho, wondering where his father was.

"Alright lads and loonies, rumps in chairs." He still had his weird accent. As the class sat down, a ginger-hair man in glasses walked through the door, obviously being Ortho's father.

"Hello. Is this... Oh, hi, Ortho." The man greeted his son and Ray looked at the new man. (y/n) wasn't sure about his identity though. He didn't seem to be an evil mastermind, just a mild-mannered father.

"Hello, father." Ortho replied, making Henry look back at Charlotte.

"Well, if it isn't Ortho's daddy," Ray said, forgetting to do his voice.

"Accent." (y/n) coughed as she walked past her friend, reaching over to shake Ortho's father's hand.

"If it isn't Ortho's daddy." He corrected, not liking how friendly (y/n) was being with the suspected criminal.

"Yeah, sorry I'm a little late. I had some things to do." He smiled, shaking (y/n)'s hand with a firm grip.

"What kind of things?" Henry questioned him.

"Yeah, what things?" Charlotte added in.

"Just some work stuff. So I was told it's bring 'Your Father to Class Day'." Ortho's father asked the teachers.

"Yeah, that's right." (y/n) nodded at him with a genial expression.

"Okay...So, now what?" The man seemed confused.

"Maybe you could tell the children about the type of work you do and--" Ray slowly walked towards the man, putting himself between him and his helper. Once he was close enough, he sneaked his laser control from his pocket and fired a shot at Ortho's father, making him fall unconscious to the floor. (y/n) gasped along with the rest of the room, whilst Ray pretended to be innocent.

"Father!" Ortho cried out.

"Oh, bad luck. It appears that Ortho's father is having a medical episode." Ray told the class, but Ortho was too upset.

"No, I think you did something to him." The boy said, getting up from his seat and accusing Ray.

"Mr Gelding would never--" (y/n) tried to protect Ray, but Ortho still wasn't listening.

"I'm calling my mom and you'll be in big trouble." Henry used his whiz watch to shoot a laser at Ortho before he could tell anyone what had happened. The boy fell to the floor like his father.

"Uh-oh. There goes Ortho." Henry said in mock surprise.

"Oh no, the condition must be genetic." (y/n) lied.

"We should take them to the school nurse," Charlotte suggested and Ray quickly agreed.

"Good idea, let's hurry up, shall we?" Ray went to grab the father and Henry and Charlotte started to drag Ortho out by his feet. Surprising (y/n) with his strength, Ray lifted the man over his shoulder and hurried out of the classroom.

"Class, read page 22." (y/n) said, before closing the door and ushering them all out of the school.

~The Man Cave~

Ray had put Ortho and his father in restraints, and now they were struggling to free themselves in the Man Cave.

"Where are we?" Ortho asked.

"I don't know, son." His father replied, tugging at the chains around his wrists. The door to the room behind the supercomputer opened and Henry and Ray stepped out in their superhero costumes, Charlotte and (y/n) in tow.

"Well, well, well." The superheroes said in turn, folding their arms and walking towards the father and son.

"Well," Henry added on the end.

"We only do three 'wells'" Ray told him, not wanting to look uncool in front of their prisoners.

"So, mister. Are you ready to admit that you're Drill Finger?" Charlotte stepped around the two and interrogated them.

"What?"

"Who's Drill Finger?" They both asked in confusion.

"You know you're Drill Finger." Charlotte pressed, wanting them to squeal the truth.

"You're a psychotic, evil dentist." Captain Man pointed at Ortho's father, who just looked pale and frightened.

"And now, it's your turn to get drilled." Henry tried to sass, but it fell flat.

"What's that mean?" (y/n) leaned down and said in his ear.

"I don't know, man." The teen wished he'd never said it.

"I'm not a dentist. I don't even floss." The chained man revealed as the alarm went off. (y/n) ran over to the computer, and opened the camera link to see what Gooch wanted.

"What Gooch? We're busy with Drill Finger?" Ray growled over her shoulder.

"No, you're not." (y/n) recoiled with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Huh?"

"Drill Finger was just spotted in Nebraska," Gooch reported, and they all looked at him in shock.

"Nebraska? As in Nebraska above Kansas?" (y/n) really hoped it was a mistake, but it seemed they had made a grave error.

"Affirmative. He put four megatons of sugar in the water supply." 'Sweet cheese.' (y/n) wanted to slap herself.

"Situation?" Henry asked.

"Water very sweet. Teeth in danger." Gooch replied, even though all could have guessed that.

"Understood." Ray closed the link and turned to his friends, who all shared his look of guilt.

"What do we do?" Henry said, stepping back from the computer.

"Nothing, we only protect Swellview," Ray told him.

"Yeah, Nebraska's not our problem." (y/n) agreed with him.

"Right." They all looked at Ortho and his father, who were both glaring at them.

"But you guys... If the real Drill Finger is in Nebraska, who's that guy?" Charlotte pointed out.

"He's my dad, you dip twits!" Ortho yelled at them.

"But, why'd you want to know where our school's water supply was?" Henry asked, as all the puzzle pieces in his head started to fall.

"Because my uncle sells water filters for schools and small businesses." They all looked at their shoes.

"Okay, but why'd you ask about our school's security cameras?" Charlotte still thought that was dodgy, but Ortho's father quickly gave a reason.

"Because at Ortho's last school, the security cameras caught him picking his nose." Again, they all looked away when they heard the explanation.

"After that, some of the other kids called me 'Booger boy'," Ortho explained, and (y/n) couldn't help but feel bad for him, but Ray just found it funny, making everyone glare at him.

"Kids can be cruel." He said after (y/n) pinched his arm to make him say something nice.

"Okay, wait...then why did you say your dad was gonna take care of Captain Man?" Henry questioned them and Charlotte and Ray nodded with him.

"Because my father owns a chain of retirement homes for old people," Ortho explained.

"And I'm building a new one here in Swellview." His father continued.

"It's still in the planning phase." Suddenly everything became clear and the superhero team felt very stupid.

"And, when Captain Man gets old, I hoped I could take of him... To thank him for being such a wonderful superhero." Ray laughed awkwardly, having been so horrible to a man who only wanted to do nice things for him.

"Will you excuse us for just one second? We'll be right back." (y/n) smiled sweetly at the man as she pulled Ray and Charlotte backwards, Henry following too.

"Okay, we screwed up bad." Ray squeaked, once they had moved away, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

"Bad is an understatement. We're gonna go down for this." (y/n) hissed back.

"I better not get in trouble for this," Henry commented, imagining what would happen if Ortho told the whole school what he'd gone through.

"Let's just calm down." (y/n) tried to keep control of the situation, but Charlotte was panicking.

"Hey. Just know I am not going to jail for the three of you." She told them, making her friends shush her loudly. Ray told them to follow his lead, as he sauntered over to the two ginger-haired men again.

"Hey. So good news..." Ray started in a cheerful voice.

"What?" Ortho snapped.

"We've clearly made a mistake here." Ray smiled at them, even though Ortho and his father hated the group.

"So we're gonna let you both go." Henry smiled too.

"As long as you don't mention any of this to anyone." (y/n) tried to use her puppy-dog eyes, but it seemed they only worked on Ray, as Ortho and his father strongly disagreed.

"Are you nuts?"

"As soon as we get out of here, we're going right to the police." The father confirmed, making the group tense in fear. Ray didn't know what else to do, so he took his laser control from his utility belt.

"Well, in that case.." He shot both of them again, making (y/n) look at him with a puzzled face.

"What was that for? Don't you think we've traumatised them enough?" She said, Henry and Charlotte agreeing with her.

"Just help me get them down." Captain Man said tiredly.

"Aw, man," Charlotte said, as she and Henry grabbed Ortho and Ray and (y/n) dealt with his father.

They took the unconscious bodies to a shady back alley in downtown Swellview. Henry dragged Ortho as Ray and (y/n) dumped his father from a shopping cart. He flopped onto the floor, making Charlotte sigh with impatience.

"Will you guys hurry up?" She asked, not wanting to get caught.

"What about when they wake up? They're gonna get us in trouble." Henry pointed out, so Ray grabbed his memory eraser.

"Not if they don't remember anything that happened." He said, quickly using it on Ortho and his father, much to (y/n)'s anger.

"We can't leave them here not knowing who they are or where they live." She scolded him, but Ray thought it was for the best.

"Now, they won't remember anything?" Henry wanted to confirm.

"Not a thing," Ray smirked, and his sidekick thought it was pretty awesome. The men on the floor started to move.

"They're waking up!" Charlotte noticed, but (y/n) didn't like the thought of them being left alone with no memories.

"You're seriously not suggesting that we--" Ray left no room for her to argue, as he grabbed her wrist and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

"Raymond! I swear to God, put me down!" She thumped his back and kicked her legs, but the man holding her ignore it.

"Run!" He said, and the group quickly escaped before Ortho or his father spotted them. They sprinted to the Man Van and Ray dumped (y/n) onto the back seat before getting in the front and speeding away.

"Sometimes I want to break your face." She sulked from the back.

"You know a face this handsome can't be broken." Ray quipped, causing her cheeks to warm and silence to fall over her. Looking up in the mirror, Henry and Charlotte smirked to themselves, knowing the effect Ray's words had on her, even if he never noticed it.

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