#at home he'd always have clean pads ready in case

[sabertoothwalrus]

girldad mode activate

#I'd trust him to buy me pads #at home he'd always have clean pads ready in case #they're not for him to use. if he's trans his ass is in menopause #chilchuck tims #dungeon meshi #izutsumi #comic #my art

[hotluncheddie]

New anon here... I've been thinking about the government shoving Eddie into witness protection without letting him say goodbye to the rest of the group, which is a real bummer Steddie-wise because they were definitely headed towards something. So Eddie is like, in the suburbs of Chicago or somewhere under the new name Nathan Edwards or something, gets a slave wage job at a Scoops Ahoy, and proceeds to eat his feelings.

A couple years later, Steve is passing through the area, sees the Scoops, and thinks what the hell, he's doing pretty well for himself these days at whatever "fuck you dad I can make it on my own" career he ended up choosing, he can go in and tip some fresh outta high school kid the way he'd always appreciated back in his Starcourt days. And wow, the guy behind the counter definitely isn't a teenager, but he does look familiar...

:0 anon!!!!!

i’m hoping by saying he eats his feeling in the ice cream shop that we’re on the same page here… (bc oof 🥴👹)

but ugh witness protection is so sad omg but big hurt/comfort possibilities maybe i think i think

they make them leave straight out of the hospital, him and wayne and one box of stuff each. they give them new names, a new place, set wayne up with a new job. but it’s not the same, nothing is, never will be. eddie has to cut his hair, thankfully not a buzz cut but he hasn’t had his curls sit above his ears in years. it’s the thing that makes his feel most strange, he thinks - not recognising himself in the mirror.

recovering physically took a long time, mentally, just as long. but eventually he needs to be around people again, needs money, a routine. the scoops job started as kind of a joke and then he realised it was the place he applied with the easiest commute and the owner was a really chill dude at the interview and then it really wasn’t a joke anymore. eddie worked a scoops ahoy. the pay is whatever but the work is fine and with wayne’s wage they more than get by and while it’s boring, it also kind of feels like breathing room, time to slow down and learn about himself again, after everything.

after a while eddie is actually kind of digging the sailor outfit, gives him an excuse to be kind of silly and get away with way more with customers that he should. like you can’t really get mad at him, not dressed like that, not when he still gets the orders right. it feels like a character, he’s the bard, the jester, and one day he’ll break free but for now - he enjoys the free icecream.

it started small, employees are allowed one item in break and he usually went for a soda, then that changed to a milkshake or a cone. and then one night he was closing and it was right by wayne’s birthday and there was a quarter of a tub set to be thrown out. and, well, eddie thought, why not take it home?

then the new monthly schedule comes out and since most of the part timers are younger and he has his (new) van it’s got him set to closing alone most shifts. fine by him, one hour of pay where he can blast his walkman while he cleans, best case scenario even.

he was also in charge of making sure the tubs were correctly filled ready for the openers and that meant throwing out the near empty ones. so near empty that that kid in eddie seems to rear up and remind him of all those times they couldn’t afford icecream, why let it go to waste? he always did have a sweet tooth.

so most nights his routine after work is to get home, have dinner with wayne, get high, watch some tv or read or listen to music and most notably polish off whatever ice cream and ‘only just out of date so still definitely good’ toppings he’s managed to squirrel home.

that last bit is notable because it’s been a year of working there, just under a year of this new routine, and eddie’s had to size up his once baggy uniform.

he’s kept definition in his legs and arms since his job is running around and scooping frozen shit. but now he’s padded with a layer of chub and his stomach is padded with a lot more than that, having bared the brunt. his cheeks have also rounded and his thighs and ass are honestly looking better than ever.

and with everything so new that’s been forced on him, this new at least feels like his. he knows how it happened, he’s not dumb, and yeah sometimes he ate just to wallow but he enjoyed every fucking bite of that ice-cream. and yeah he knows the red stripes that streak up his sides and push agains the waistband of his shorts aren’t everyone’s idea of desirable but, this is him now. everything else in his life is new, may as well have a new body to go with it. and to be honest he finally feels like he’s recognising himself in the mirror now. this new guy he’s had to become, there are ways that it’s still his.

but god does he miss everyone. not a day goes by he doesn’t think of home, his friends, his life, the people he almost died with. steve. so every night he gets high and eats ice cream and feels his belly swell that little bit more. sometimes he cries, sometimes he laughs but he’s alive and he has wayne and they’re safe. so every night he eats icecream.

-

steve moves to chicago with robin. he’s in school to be a physical therapist, robin studying italian. they moved just outside the city because it’s cheaper, a nice little neighbourhood. hes getting by, he works at a gym and helps with some of the classes, it’s decent pay and fun and he’s getting more and more days where that darkness feels far away, his rain cloud isn’t so thick. he’s doing it, surviving. living, even.

but, every day he misses eddie munson.

he’s out jogging when he spots it, taken a new route and made it to a strip of stores he didn’t know were there. with a scoops ahoy. just like summer of ‘83.

he laughs.

for old times sake and knowing robin will get a kick out of it he head in inside. thinks the 20 in his sock is more than enough to have spare for a tip that should brighten whatever kid is working the counter. surely they don’t still have the same unifo- nope, they do, and the guy at the counter looks much closer to steve’s age than the high schooler he expected. he’s cute. big eyes, nice hands.

-

eddie’s frozen. there’s a spectre in his store. steve’s staring at him. eddie’s stares at steve. eddie’s suddenly filled with anxious energy, unsure how to process what’s in front of him. tugs at his shirt out of habit, smooths the fabric down over the plush of his stomach, readjusts his hat that doesn’t need readjusting, bounces on his toes. what the fuck.

and eddie sees that steve doesn’t quite recognise him with his rounder features and shorter hair. he can’t wear his rings to work (they’re different, gold but still chunky) and, obviously steve’s never seen him dressed like this, also probably never imagined eddie would have a belly like that.

the second thing that registers in eddie, after the initial shock, is feeling his stomach drop out in fear. for wayne. for their place. for his job… for steve.

he doesn’t remember what the rules were about contact with his past. but he’s pretty sure there were rules on it.

but then something flickers across steve’s face, a flash of lightning, and he’s moving, leaning across the counter and enveloping eddie in a hug. ‘oh thank god.’ eddie hears steve breathe, strained and relieved and so full of emotion eddie feels his throat close and his eyes burn. steve’s here. eddie squeezes back and breaths deep, he smells like sweat and hairspray and home.

his steve is here.

and all eddie can do is cling back.

they’ll have to figure something out. he can’t let go of this again.

#anon this was so good #i loved it so much #the brain worm u gave me ugh #i’m giving u a #MWAH! #hotlunch #steddie #steve x eddie #chubby eddie munson #hurt/comfort #ask #chubby!eddie munson #steddie wg #witness protection wg au

[xmortuarykittyx]

Ever Unlocked

Part 3: Coffee & Mints

part 1: Grey Skies and Blue Eyes

part 2: Caution to the Wind

pairing: Officer!Leon Kennedy x Coroner’s Assistant!Reader

warnings: none so far! darker themes to come in time, be patient my children.

The next morning, rain still beat against the windows of Leon's apartment, the taps interrupted by his alarm, a blaring, teeth grinding sound as his face buries against his pillow. His forehead digging into the soft pillowcase. "shit-", the word is pushed through his teeth, muffled by the padding of his pillow. His hands slamming down onto the device, subsequently shutting it up. A defeated sigh left his lips, his body ached, his mind still fuzzed with the effects of last night. He could still feel what it was like to be in her home, still smell the sickly sweet scent of the peppermint tea, how after she returned from her room, clad only in some old RPD shirt and a pair of sleep pants. She looked even more stunning to him, so domesticated. He could almost imagine coming home to see her like that every night. 

  He wondered what she'd be like in that kind of dynamic. She was so careless, he'd have to fix that. She was too pure to have the decrepit hands of the impure world clawing at her, to have the same kind of people he put behind bars in her presence. He'd save her, she was too weak to be on her own. She needed a strong man like him to help her, to keep her nice and pristine, locked away for only his pleasure. His lips curled back, showing off his very white teeth, Leon was particular about his hygiene. He was a stickler, he wanted to make sure he looked good in front of his fellow officers. He needed this look about him, a gentleman, a good clean cut all around American man. He used his good looks, passed down from his mother and her Italian heritage. He kept a clean shaven look and made sure his uniform was always without wrinkle or spot. He was perfect, that's what he strived for. For this look of success and his boyish charm helped him get there, despite his love hate relationship with his youthful appearance. 

   As his thoughts streamed together, the blaring alarm popped the invisible bubble over his head. The words pouring over his face that now curled deeply into a frown. 7:15 am. He needed to get ready, he had to drive across town and pick up said, purity, as well as stop by the local coffee shop, Honey Hollow Coffee House, better known by locals as Honey Hollow. A sweet elderly woman owned the corner shop, always working hard behind the counter. Her sea green eyes always softened at the uniformed man, repeating phrases of "What a fine young boy." or "such a handsome man." as he checked over the glass casing of sweet treats.

   Usually deciding on a chocolate glazed donut, but today, he'd eagerly order two, along side a mocha frappe and a single black coffee.  Mocha frappe, he'd caught sight of the cup in her trash last night as he threw away the tea bag, opting to help her out in a small way to thank her for her welcome invite into her home, one that still irked him with her trusting nature. He had read the label, her name, followed by the Honey Hollow logo, a bear with his hand in a bee hive, honey running down the side and a double 'H'. Then, he saw it, m. frappe, he was not a coffee person, but everyone had heard of a Mocha Frappe before. He wondered if that's what she'd taste like, those pretty lips, just behind them tasting the bitter coffee and sweet chocolate. He'd bite back his distaste for the drink, if it was her lips he could taste it on.

 His packet of mints secured in his side pocket, he hated the thought of talking with someone, maybe a retail worker, the same brunette woman he saw near daily at the gas station near his apartment, another officer and, god forbid, Chief Irons with the dreaded coffee breath. He wasn't even a fan of coffee, he kept the paper cup on his desk, the contents cooling with every passing tick of the clock. It made him fit in with his older colleagues. It gave a sense of normality to his desk, a sense of common ground. The older men had him feeling a bit insecure, he knew he was pretty, boyish and a newcomer, but the word "rookie" always left a bad taste in his mouth, worst than any mean coffee bean could.

  The frozen coffee, slightly melted as he pulled up to the same dilapidated building, two tones and now familiar to his blue orbs. He scanned his eyes over the bottom floor, looking for the familiar number of 13. His fingers reaching for his phone, an older model, 'i'm here. got you a little surprise :).' a grin pulled at his lips, watching the message slide up, sliding across into her screen. A small ding caught her attention, eyes catching the message bubble that appeared at the top of her screen. 'for me? you didn't have to, Leon. :0', her fingers did a little dance before typing the message, her heart beat a little quicker, he was here. He went out of his way to get her something, no matter what it was, she was more than excited. The screen flashed once more as she places the small socks over her feet, a small image of a flower embedded into the cotton. 'i'm on my way out.', her fingers moved over the smooth screen with ease as she slipped on a pair of kitten heels. 

   He spotted her quickly, her door opening as he watched her quickly shut and step away from it. He noticed her lack of key, the lack of locking said door. He was going to fix that, one of the first things he'd warn her about once she was in a place where he could give her such talks. For now, he was simply trying to weasel his way into her life, into her heart. legs moving quickly as she tried to get to his vehicle and get out of the assaulting rain, she had just done her makeup and hair, now the cursed little droplets gave risk to her put together look.  Her fingers slid under his door handle of his forest green jeep, popping the door open only to be met with a brown paper bag in the seat. "Oh, yeah.", Leon's fingers worked under the paper, careful not to jostle the two donuts inside or to press down on the glaze. "Got us a little breakfast.', as his sentence fell from his lips, the seat was filled with her thighs. Her face so close to his as he looked back up, he wanted to reach out and brush away the slightly dampened strands. He wanted a better look at the woman who, slowly, little by little ate away at his sanity. Her safety always now bearing weight at the forefront of his mind. 

  "You really didn't need to do that, Leon.", her voice was full of gratitude and a slight embarrassment. "You're right, wanted to.", he gave her a shy smile, his mind may have been made up that she was his and that she was a bigger part of his life, but she didn't know that, yet. She would, however, find that one of the coffees sitting in his cupholders bore some resemblance to her dearly beloved favorite. "That too-", he smirked, his fingers wrapping around the sweating, slightly melted drink. "I had to guess which you would like, i could've called and asked but i didn't want to ruin the surprise and we didn't really get to this topic in our, oh so daring, conversation, last night.", his smirk had melted down into a smile, watcher her eyes grow in excitement. "A mocha frap?!", she took the plastic cup from his hands, "That must've been a hell of a guess. These are my favorite-", the way her eyes squinted as she took her first sip has his stomach in butterflies, the soft painting of rose colored blush fanning her cheeks, he felt it rise to his as well. "There's no way, you must've known somehow.", despite the innocence that came from her comment, it had Leon's butterflies turning into flesh gnawing moths, his expression souring as he threw the gear shifter into reverse. "You're pretty basic, figured a girly drink would be something you like.", he hadn't meant for it to come out so bitter, but he didn't like the idea she assumed he was a creep, even though she hadn't so much as thought it so far... today.

  The ride to the station was silent, Leon holding his donut in hand, resting his wrist on the top of the steering wheel. His jaw working on a piece he bit a little too big in a moment of annoyance. "Sorry, I didnt mean it.", his voice was softer than when the venom of guilt wrapped around them. "I've been a little stressed out, shouldn't have taken it out on you.", she didn't know it was her that made his stress level rise. Her careless actions and sweet character, it made Leon's blood pressure rise as he thought about something happening to her, a masked burglar slipping through that open window in her room. That same burglar seeing such a beauty wrapped in purple sheets, asleep and vulnerable to his dark thoughts- "- really, I get it. The increase in bodies has Rebecca and I near hair pulling.", she spoke softly, biting into her own donut, chocolate glaze left on the corner of her lips. Leon's tongue poked out of his own, licking any crumbs left, he thought about how hers would taste, about how he could easily reach his hand under her chin, lick away the sweet glaze that marred her perfect lips. "How is she, by the way?", he nearly had to manually force his eyes to fall away from that small speck of glaze. "She's good, she should be here today. Hopefully, we should get to that McGrath case you were needing. I can text you when the file is ready?', she glanced over, eyes taking in his uniform, the way it was slightly ill-fitted in some places, but was more filled out then when he first came to Raccoon City. 

  "I'd appreciate it.", he moved the steering wheel with his free hand, pulling into the large parking lot. Her car sat in the same spot as yesterday, his jeep taking up the spot next to hers. The station was nearly alive and bustling. A pair of officers stood outside under the awning, feet kicked back onto the brick wall, cigarettes hanging from their fingers as they mindlessly chatter. Thier uniforms darkening with stray droplets. "Would you like me to take you back home after your shift tonight?", his tongue brushed against his now empty fingers, cleaning away that sweet glaze. "I think I can manage as long as the rain lets up between now and then.", her eyes stared through the slightly tinted window, grey clouds swirling over the city. "Well, just message me. I wouldn't mind taking you back home.", had she looked away from the white and grey swirls she would've seen the puppyish longing that he watched her with. The glint of desperation and desire behind the boyish orbs. He was silently thanking himself for giving up his number last night. Using her lack of car as a reasoning.

   "I should probably offer you my number.", his hands slipped into his uniform pocket, pulling out the older phone. "You don't have your car and I dropped you off so it's only right that I take you back to the station.", his eyes reflected her led lights, the blue lights bouncing off his orbs to give them a mesmerizing look. Not that she needed any more reason to get lost in his boyish charm. His charm was only broken by the odd behaviors he exhibited at a minuscule rate.

  Yeah, he was glad, he felt like he was always arms length away, two buttons away. He assured that her message would never be a bother, that he was actually happy to have someone to talk to since he hadn't had the best luck meeting others in the area. The analog clock on his dash read 7:55am. "shit- we need to head inside.", he hissed, the moment gone now, sooner than he hoped it would be. His fingers quickly turned the key, turning off the Jeep's ignition. "Don't forget to message me once you're done with McGrath.", his hand wrapped around her wrist as she slid her legs to step out. His eyes resting on her profile, the curve of her nose the pout of her lips. Leon couldn't get enough of it. "I wont, I'll even have Rebecca pull her first.", she blushed, his rough finger pads unconsciously digging deeper into her supple flesh. "Okay...", his smile grew larger, he knew she was falling, all be it, slowly. He was patient, he could be patient...

#leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 2 #yandere leon #yandere leon kennedy #albert wesker x you #dbd albert wesker x reader #puppy leon #puppy!leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #vendetta leon x #re2 remake #re2 x reader #re2 leon #re2 smut #re2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil 6 #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #re2 leon kennedy #officer leon kennedy #rookie leon kennedy #re4 leon #resident evil leon #leon kennedy #fanfiction #fanfic

[ktkat99]

Two Weeks Of Whump Challenge Day 10. Phone Call

*Mr. Wayne? This is Becky, from Gotham Academy.*

"Hello. Is something wrong?"

*Your son Tim Drake has been marked as absent today. I was just calling to check if you forgot to call in and excuse his absence?*

"No. He should be there. He didn't show up?"

*I'm afraid not.*

"Alright. I'll find him. Thank you for calling."

Bruce hung up his phone and called Tim.

No answer.

He then pressed the speed dial for Jason, the only one of his kids who was both in town and not in school.

Yyyyy

Jason grumbled to himself under his breath as he trudged up the front walk to Drake Manor.

The kid had left his cell phone in the batcave the night before, so they weren't able to track him that way. However, he had told everyone he was heading home to get some sleep after patrol the night before, so that was where he was starting.

Bruce was seeing about checking the bedrooms at the Manor, just in case. After that, they'd expand their search radius and call in backup.

Jason reached the door and slipped the spare key he'd made himself into the lock.

The door clicked open.

"Yo, Tim! You here?" He called.

The only noise was a slight echo, returning his question back to him.

He tried to pretend he wasn't concerned as he entered the house and began searching.

The kid could take care of himself just fine, but that didn't rule out the possibility that something had happened.

"Tim!" He called again.

And again, nothing.

He wasn't in the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, or anywhere else downstairs.

So Jason went upstairs, ears straining for any sound. Maybe Tim had just slept through his alarm clock? Maybe he'd caught a cold and had forgotten to call the school?

Or maybe he'd been attacked.

This house had been broken into in the past, after all.

Either way, he didn't hear so much as a whisper from anyone else as he climbed the stairs.

Had Tim even made it home last night?

"Timmy, you in here?" He reached his brothers bedroom door and knocked as he opened it.

The room was messy, the bed had obviously been slept in, but there was still no Tim.

Now Jason really had his guard up. There had been no signs that Tim had been downstairs yet, as the kitchen was clean and no dishes were in the sink, but he had been upstairs sleeping that night.

And now? Why wasn't he answering?

Could he not hear Jason?

Could he hear but was unable to respond?

Stealthily, Jason padded down the hall to the next door, the bathroom.

He palmed the switchblade he always kept in his pocket and pushed the door in.

Splashes of water on the counter by the sink led him to believe that Tim had at least gotten ready for school.

Or, well. Gotten ready.

But that still didn't offer any hint as to where he was-

Tim's backpack lay in the middle of the hall.

Jason narrowed his eyes, mind jumping immediately to 'there was an attack', until he saw which door it was outside.

Oh.

Fuck.

He slipped his knife back where it went and walked up to the door, once again knocking as he pushed it open.

Sure enough, Tim was seated in the window seat by his parents' bed, head bent, breathing softly.

"Tim. Hey, wake up."

Jason walked over and knelt by his brother, slipping the file he'd apparently fallen asleep reading out from his fingers.

Tim's eyes twitched behind his eyelids and he sighed, pulling his hands in closer to his body.

"Tim. Wake up."

"Hmm?" Tim's eyes opened. "Wha..?"

"What's going on, man? It's not like you to play hookie."

Tim blinked and squinted, taking a minute to register who, exactly, was talking to him.

"Bruce thought you were kidnapped. Why didn't you go to school?"

Tim closed his eyes and sighed, turning to look out the window. "Sorry. Did he need me for a mission?"

"No. The school called him when you never showed up."

"Hm. Sorry."

"Tim, what's going on? What's with all these papers?"

"They were dropped off before I left. It's… it's all the legal bullshit I have to go through. My parents wills, and all that."

"You lost track of time?"

Tim shrugged.

"Tim?"

"I don't… really think I can handle being around people."

Jason nodded and stood, shoving Tim's legs aside and sitting beside him on the window seat.

"What's wrong?"

Tim stared out the window mutely, arms crossed. He took a long slow inhale, closed his eyes, and leaned his head back against the wall, exhaling just as slowly.

Then he pointed at a file that had been set aside.

Jason had nearly sat on it.

"What's this?" Jason picked it up and opened it, flipping through.

"Just what it looks like. Everything I did for them… for him… was for nothing. I was never going to be good enough for him."

Jason saw the page he was talking about and had to thread it twice.

And then again.

"Wow. Tim. I… I'm so sorry."

Tim didn't react, but his eyes closed and he bowed his head. Jason could see the tears seep out from between his eyelids.

Jason read the page again, just to be sure.

He then pulled out his phone and sent a text to Bruce.

J- *Tim's safe but you need to come over here. He just found out he's not Jack's kid.*

B- *I'm on my way. Is he alright?*

J- *No.*

#batman #tim drake #jason todd #red robin #batfam #red hood #twow #twoweeksofwhump #bruce wayne #good brother jason todd

[hb-writes]

Ch. 4 - The Youngest

The youngest one's turning into a real pain in the ass.

It was late when Harvey and Charlie finally arrived home from the office. He hated having to put in the extra hours nearing the weekend, and he hated that it was for a pain in the ass client like Heskett. He hated even more that they had barely made any headway even though they had worked straight through dinner. And Mike was still at the office sorting through the mess.

Harvey headed straight for the bar cart by the window, pouring a drink and taking a sip while Charlie lingered by the kitchen island. She could feel the tension rolling off her brother from across the room. She wasn't responsible for all of it, though Charlie had come around to taking on a bit more of the responsibility over the hours she'd spent cooped up alone in his office, bored and pacing while the others worked in a conference room down the hall.

Harvey and Mike working on a case was a remarkable thing to watch, usually. They were brilliant. Charlie never managed to be anything less than impressed, but their work with the Heskett merger wasn't inspired or brilliant, even if the potential solutions they came up with were. The case was beyond maddening to everyone who had their hands in it. And watching them work through the newest obstacle, even from her isolation down the hall, left Charlie with an uneasiness in the pit of her stomach.

"Go get ready for bed."

Harvey spoke the words with his back to his sister. Though Harvey had earlier been insistent that they would continue the discussion at home, he still needed a few minutes to decompress before dealing with his sister. It had been a long day.

Charlie was more than willing to postpone things. She was grateful, even, for the temporary acquittal, heading to her bedroom without a word, dragging her school bag across the hardwood floors as she went.

Harvey ran a hand through his hair and looked out the window at the city below, a bit of the tension receding as he sipped his drink. His apartment had an expensive view—the place was exorbitantly expensive, really—but it was a view he wouldn't give it up for anything. He had lived there for almost as long as he had been working at Pearson-Hardman. The place had always been his refuge. Even now, even while sharing it with his kid sister.

Charlie understood what her brother had given up in taking her in. She knew that he'd lived a very different life before their father had died. That this had been a bachelor's pad. That, in many ways, it still was. Still needed to be. Harvey wanted his space to be neat…calm…nice. The peace of the apartment was a necessary part of his life. Harvey needed it, and Charlie made a conscious effort to keep her material possessions to the confines of her bedroom. She made a conscious effort to clean up after herself, if only to give her brother what she knew he needed.

It was the least she could do, considering all that he gave her, a notion that Charlie knew in her core. A notion she dwelled on a bit too much, that she owed Harvey for all he did, like someone was keeping score and she would forever be in his debt. Sometimes, Charlie forgot to be grateful. Sometimes, she forgot enough to just be a kid—a selfish, smart ass, spoiled brat of a little sister.

Charlie could be all of those things. Harvey knew it, but he couldn't help thinking that when it really came down to it, he had gotten beyond lucky with his sister. Or maybe not lucky. Harvey Specter didn't really believe in luck, but he had it pretty good with her because despite it all, she was a good kid. A pain in the ass sometimes, sure, but good when and where it mattered.

Charlie had been raised right. She had a good heart. Harvey supposed they had their father to thank for that. He tried to uphold what Gordon had done for her, tried to reinforce what he remembered from his own childhood, the things he had railed against when he was a kid, but knew in his heart were right now that he was on the other side of it, but Harvey knew he wasn't his father. That was something he could never be for her, an empty space Harvey always felt like he was trying to fit himself into.

Harvey poured out a second drink before making his way down the hall. Charlie's door was still partially open and he slipped through the door, setting his scotch glass on her dresser.

"I thought I told you to go to bed?"

Charlie dragged her eyes from the laptop screen to find her brother poised by the door, looking over her room, his eyes catching on the messier spots.

"Well, actually, you told me to get ready for bed and I would like to present exhibit A." Charlie pulled back the covers to expose that she was donning her pajamas, precisely as he had requested. "for the court, your honor."

Although a fleeting smile played on Harvey's lips, he didn't allow himself to laugh at her. "You mean counselor?"

Charlie shrugged. "In this house, you are judge, jury, and executioner, are you not?"

Being home, having the time alone in her bedroom, even if it had only been fifteen minutes or so, had settled Charlie a bit. Calmed her. Something had shifted for both of them and Harvey could tell she was trying to lighten the mood. He pressed his palms into the edge of her desk as he leaned against it.

"You know, I really prefer not to be," he said, his words tired. Harvey was tired—exhausted. "I wouldn't have to be if you just did what you're told."

Charlie considered her brother's words, glancing at the laptop screen again. "Yeah…well, I kind of have to finish this essay for Ollie," she said as she looked back to him. "And your instructions regarding 'getting ready for be' weren't entirely clear before, counselor."

Harvey raised an eyebrow, supposing that he'd left himself open there. He'd left his sister ample room to deflect. "You know what I meant, smart ass. How much do you have left?"

"A page or so," she mused, scrolling through what she'd already written.

Harvey nodded. "I'll give you an hour and I want you sleeping. It's late."

Charlie nodded, focusing her attention back on the laptop as Harvey took his drink, leaving her door slightly ajar. Usually, she'd get up to close it, but she didn't bother now. She probably didn't need a full hour to finish. It was a sort of bullshit assignment as far as Charlie was concerned. Oliver loved to assign reflection assignments and Charlie had been assigned many of them over the past couple of years. She still gave it a good faith effort though because she knew from previous experience that Oliver actually read the reflections he assigned the kids. He actually gave feedback on them, talked with them about it. And she knew he wouldn't hesitate to give it back to her for revision if it wasn't up to par.

By the time Harvey wandered back down the hallway about an hour and a half later, heading for his own bedroom, the light was still on, spilling out across the hallway. Despite all the light, Charlie was asleep, one of her hands still settled on top of the keyboard, as if she'd still been typing when consciousness left her the night before.

Harvey slid the laptop from her precarious hold and placed it safely on her desk, plugging in the charger before he turned back to his sister.

He no longer remembered how many times he had reminded Charlie to be careful with the goddamn thing. And to be careful with the expensive cell phone. And with the tablet. And with herself. Even now, she was so close to the edge of the bed that he wondered if she'd still benefit from those flimsy guard rails Gordon had installed on his old twin-sized bed when he'd first adopted her.

Charlie was a touch less than graceful and she had been the same level of accident-prone for as long as Harvey could remember. She had by some miracle never broken more than her little pinky toe, but she'd scared him plenty. Sometimes he wondered if she got a kick out of it—driving him absolutely crazy, scaring the shit out of him for the fun of it. Harvey wondered if their father had ever felt the same way—about him, about Charlie, about Marcus.

Maybe he and Marcus had been worse. Maybe girls were different. Harvey didn't know. Maybe Charlie was just different. Or maybe he'd done it to himself. Spoiling her, being too lenient, encouraging the smart ass in her.

If his sister was spoiled, it was primarily his doing and Harvey was well aware of that. Their father had never had the means to pamper her with much of anything aside from love, but Harvey had always tried to take care of her whether she asked for it or not. Even before he lived with her, Harvey had spoiled her. His father had raised an eyebrow at some of it, but he'd never said a word against it.

And now that she was his responsibility…Harvey had enrolled his sister in a quality school and he made sure that she had everything she could ever need. Everything she could want, really. She wasn't usually one to make overly extravagant requests, but there wasn't much Charlie Specter wanted for. Harvey wouldn't allow it, couldn't stand for it.

Whatever shit Harvey had experienced in his own childhood, he knew his sister had been given a more difficult start in life. And in knowing that, he'd placed an unwarranted obligation on himself to make up for the parts of Charlie's life that had been difficult. He hoped that she didn't remember much of it. He grounded a bit of his philosophy in the way he cared for her now in the hope that she had been too young to remember. She seemed relatively well-adjusted now so he figured he was right, but he supposed he couldn't always be sure.

When his father—their father—had died, Harvey had agonized over what to do with the sister left in his care, the resilient little girl who had been the one to find their father after the heart attack. Back then, Charlie had thrived on running around outside for hours, coming home muddy and tired from all the sun and fresh air. He hated to uproot her from that life and everything she knew to bring her to the city—to his world—but Harvey had a feeling she needed a fresh start. He hadn't even considered the other options.

Harvey couldn't have conceived of the idea of moving himself back to his hometown back then. It would have been a certain hell for him. His career with Pearson-Hardman had been climbing at a rapid pace, presenting opportunities only an idiot would drop in order to play it small time out on Long Island. The job allowed him to maintain the lifestyle he had come to covet. It allowed him to provide for Charlie, and to bail out Marcus if he ever needed it again. And Harvey couldn't imagine any other type of life for them now.

New York was home to them both. This apartment was home to them both.

Charlie could navigate the halls of their penthouse apartment in the dark and while still half asleep, which was a good thing considering both conditions were met when she stumbled into the kitchen near 5:00 am.

She still had to finish writing her reflection for Oliver, and she hated herself just a little for falling asleep before finishing, grateful the document had autosaved before her brother safely stashed her laptop the night before.

Charlie slid the laptop on the counter and muddled around the kitchen in a slight fog, setting up the coffee maker and pulling a clean mug from the cabinet.

"You're up early."

Charlie flinched at her brother's sudden presence. She was barely what one would call awake, demonstrated by her slow reaction when Harvey walked behind her, mussing her already messy hair as he walked straight to the window. It was still dark, the city's lights still bright spots in the black sky.

"Sorry I woke you," Charlie mumbled, her eyes trained on the coffee maker, willing the contents to brew faster.

Harvey shook his head, glancing back at her. "You didn't."

Harvey barely slept these days, or at least that's how it seemed to his sister. Charlie tended to keep late hours herself, wiling away the late evening and early morning hours with procrastinated assignments, books, or sitcom reruns, but Harvey always stayed up later and woke earlier in the morning than she did.

He went through phases like that, based on what was going on at work and a host of other things he rarely deemed fit to share with his little sister. Charlie knew to just let it be.

When the coffee maker beeped, Charlie took a mug to her brother first, scorching her fingertips as she held the handle out for Harvey to take.

"Thanks for tucking me in last night," she mumbled.

She half-remembered it, Harvey putting the laptop away and returning to the side of the bed to pull the covers over her shoulders, Charlie muttering a barely decipherable goodnight when Harvey kissed her head, just like Gordon used to do every night.

Harvey took a sip and glanced down at her. "It's a good thing I did since you left the laptop hanging off the end of the bed again."

"Accident," she offered by way of apology. "I guess I was pretty tired."

Charlie felt guilty that Harvey had even bought the laptop for her to begin with. It was the most expensive thing she'd ever owned and she could barely manage to keep herself from dropping it on the floor without his assistance and constant reminders.

"Maybe we need to set an earlier bedtime for you."

Charlie snorted. She didn't have a bedtime, not really. On the nights she stayed up far too late, he usually suggested she wrap it up and go to bed, but there was no steadfast rule. He rarely made her put away a good book or stop working on a procrastinated assignment, but he always made sure she dealt with the consequences the next day. He never let her stay home from school or sleep in just because she'd made the decision to decimate her sleep schedule the night before.

"I think we both need earlier bedtimes."

Harvey snorted softly, giving her a small smirk as he took another sip of coffee. It was as much as she'd do to comment on his own sleeping schedule. Charlie left his side as she went to make her own coffee and get settled at the counter. She pulled a leg up to sit underneath her body as she sipped her own coffee in front of her laptop.

Harvey settled beside her a few minutes later with his own laptop, scrolling through the news headlines as Charlie read through what she'd written the night before and got back into it. Harvey refilled both of their mugs once while they sat together in near silence.

"Finish that up so we can put this all behind us," Harvey said after he'd finished perusing.

Charlie nodded. She was close to being finished already, just editing, when Harvey fished his ringing cell phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants.

Charlie glared at Harvey, hearing the shift in his tone as he issued his greeting, a seductive playfulness there in his brief salutation. From a single word, Charlie could tell that it was a woman, that he was interested, and that it was certainly not business-related.

"When should I expect you?" he asked.

Charlie rolled her eyes and pulled up her Facebook page to pass the time while Harvey finished his conversation.

"Alright, Scottie," he said.

Charlie let out a sigh, an exaggerated one, and leaned into her head into her hand as she aimlessly scrolled through updates on her newsfeed.

"I'll make a reservation for that place on Madison and I'll figure something out for my sister."

This time Charlie made sure that Harvey noted her glare. He raised an eyebrow and made a gesture towards her laptop screen. Charlie ignored Harvey's silent suggestion to log off and turned away from him, continuing to scroll though she was intently listening to his side of the conversation. Harvey let out a frustrated exhale when his sister didn't comply.

"Oh, what's going on here?" Harvey leaned back in his chair and repeated the question while rubbing the back of his head. "Nothing much. Charlotte and I were just about to have a little chat about her getting hauled down to the principal's office yesterday."

Charlie sent another glare in his direction while simultaneously shoving her heel into his leg. Harvey shoved her foot away.

"Fun?" Harvey laughed as he caught Charlie's foot as she went for him a second time. "No. Not fun. Consider yourself lucky to be an only child, Scottie. Siblings are a headache and the youngest one's turning into a real pain in the ass these days."

Charlie wretched her foot out of his hold and Harvey watched his sister turn back to the laptop, reaching out to rest his hand on the back of her chair as he laughed at something Scottie said on the other end of the line. Charlie quickly slammed the laptop shut and shoved his hand away from her.

"Alright, Scottie. I gotta go."

Harvey set the phone down on the counter before turning to his sister. "What the hell is it with you—?"

"What's with you telling Scottie stuff like that?" Charlie countered. "It's none of her goddamn business." Charlie turned away from him, ready to gather her things and hustle to her own bedroom, but Harvey grabbed her arm before she could even slip out of the chair.

"And you don't need to get me a babysitter just so you can go sleep with her," she added as he tried to hold her there, her fingers prying at his grip even though the hold on her had been loose, just a gentle hand to keep her there beside him.

"Hey." Harvey's voice was light at first, a bit louder when he had to repeat himself. He swiveled Charlie's chair so she was facing him and she stopped fighting him then, put off by the sudden movement and the squeak of the chair leg against the floor. "What the hell was that?" he asked when she met his eye.

"Let me go." Charlie looked away, focusing on releasing Harvey's grip on her once again.

"Cool it, Charlie," he said. "You're already in trouble."

"I don't care," she answered. And in that moment, she didn't care. And she didn't need reminding. The way she saw it, he was practically announcing it to everyone—half of Manhattan would probably know she was in trouble by the time morning was through. They'd know she was nothing better than a pain in the ass, a burden.

"Harvey, stop," she ground out. "I need to get ready."

Harvey glanced at the clock above the stove. It was almost 6:30 already. She was right. They both still needed to shower and get ready for the day and he wasn't in the mood to be late.

Harvey let his hand drop. "You've got twenty minutes. Go get ready."

Charlie glanced at the clock and then back to her brother. "I've got an hour."

"You've got twenty minutes," Harvey repeated as he stood up to go to his own bedroom. They still needed to have a real conversation about whatever was going on with her, especially after this. He hoped forty minutes would be enough to sort it out.

LTLB Masterlist (Everything)

LTLB Masterlist (Chapters)

Chapter 5

#suits #suits tv #suits usa #suits netflix #suits fanfic #suits fanfiction #harvey specter #harvey specter fanfiction #specter!sister #dana scott #charlie specter

[osoreruna]

might tower was built some 8 or so years into toshinori's employment as a professional hero. it's 86 floors including the penthouse, and houses just about anything you could think you'd need on a day to day basis working for the big man — including multiple cafeterias, roomy offices, an entire event center, and a whole floor dedicated to being a pretty well stocked "break room", even including a gym and spa. he likes to take good care of his employees, as he can only imagine how stressful it'd be to work under japan's number one hero, the world's symbol of peace. and seeing that there's a lot of them, he does his best to accommodate them all, as briefly stated in this hc post. a good chunk of the tower is also open to the public. aside from a few unauthorized areas throughout the floors, like the offices and conference rooms, but even those can be authorized through a supervised tour. the exception to this, however, is behind the MIGHT GATE on floors 82 through 86.

the might lobby begins on the 82nd floor and is mainly comprised of an open, 3 story foyer used to house and display awards and gifts he's received over the years — like the 20ft bronze all might statue we've seen in the comics. there's also an information desk where people can ask for directions and schedule tours, as well as all might's landing pad — a designated, roped off area where he can safely land after returning from his hero work. immediately beyond the might gate is all might's office. it's big, and rather empty — probably pretty underwhelming to most who've had the pleasure of seeing it. it's comprised of a grand desk, surprisingly void of any paperwork, a couple of large portraits that he received from a fan quite some years ago, and a few plants to help fill the area. in case the immaculate condition of the place wasn't enough of a hint, his office is hardly ever used. up until the more recent years, he's had staff to take care of all of his back office work. so it's treated more like a glorified foyer to his LIVING QUARTERS located through another oversized set of doors. toshinori didn't always live in the tower, but as work piled up and days grew longer, he found himself spending more time commuting to and from work than he was able to spend at home. so it didn't take long for it to become his permanent residence. to some, all might's living quarters would probably be considered just as underwhelming as his office. it's an even LARGER space, with even more areas void of any sort of personality or life, but it has everything he'd need to live comfortably enough — a rather large kitchen, a master suite, a private gym...it even has what some would consider to be a pretty impressive sort-of theater for a living room, as one of yagi's favorite things to do is watch movies. to an outsider, the way everything is placed and laid out, the apartment as a whole may sort of seem like...an afterthought. perhaps because he wasn't planning on living there full time as he was, that it was something that he just accepted to be at some point and made do with what he had. the apartment's also never considered showroom ready, as most people would probably think. toshinori doesn't have any staff taking care of his quarters, as he quite enjoys his privacy beyond the gate. so he's fairly decent at picking up after himself and cleaning up his own messes — but seeing as he's practically NEVER expecting company, the bed's not gonna be made and you'll need to watch your step for stray house shoes when walking around.

#𝗨𝗟𝗧𝗥𝗔 𝗔𝗥𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗩𝗘 + [ HEADCANON ] #i didn't mean to type this much considering nobody cares bout the stupid tower but me #but also in typing this it made me realize ??? HOW TALL MIGHT TOWER IS ????? #AND TOSHI JUST #CASUALLY JUMPS #AND FLIES THROUGH THE AIR HIGH ENOUGH TO ENTER THROUGH THE ROOF EVERY SINGLE TIME ???? #do y'all understand how tall 80+ stories is... #this man — #no wonder his legs are so massive ALSKJFL #toshi implementing the gate solely because he literally has no other means of privacy. #that is TRULY the only time he is allowed to be *alone*. away from the public #away from his staff. where he's allowed to be TOSHINORI and not all might. #it's truly a display of trust if he brings you past the office — #especially post afo... #anyway #i've been off and on — doing some chores here and there #but i've got some asks i'd like to answer this weekend !! so we'll see about that here in a bit.

[lilhwahwa]

White Hemlock, 2 - 𝙋.𝙎𝙃

WARNING: mafia au! Strong language! BLOOD! liddol angst? Liddol fluffy. Not proof read o.o

MASTERLIST 

Previous part

Summary from last part: Y/N’s family gets threatened by an anonymous number. Y/N has to poison Seonghwa and knock him out temporarily in order to keep everyone safe, but gets caught slipping the poisonous herb into his tea which lead to a rather heated confrontation in his home office at dawn. 

-

That night, when you had returned from the bathroom in your and Seonghwa's shared room, you found him gone. A part of you was relieved, knowing that meant his confrontation wouldn't continue longer than it already had. But another part of you, your heart specifically, kept aching for the man you loved to come back soon and hold you in his warm embrace. Where was he anyway? Was he going to go after the people who sent you the messages? If that was the case, you knew it would be impossible to stop him once he started, aware of his need to finish tasks thoroughly.  

You had heard shuffling in your shared bedroom after Seonghwa instructed you to go clean up in the bathroom. And after the confrontation in his office, you had no intentions to argue further and did as instructed. You splashed cold water onto your face with shaky hands, mind replaying the moment your lover had connected the metal tip of his gun to your temple, his loaded gun. The wooden door of your bedroom shutting close brought you back to reality. He had left for the night.

You sighed, twisting and turning in your bed as scenarios of Seonghwa getting beaten by big, scary guys played out before your closed eyes. Harshly cold shivers ran down your legs and spine every time you imagined his stoic face twist in pain and instead kept your eyes opened, not wanting to see such a sight again. 'How ironic, you were going to poison him anyway...' you thought to yourself, chest still heavy with guilt as you realized how close you were to hurting your loved one. Your hand desperately rubbed at the ache in your stomach in small circular motions, the action being ineffective as the tightness spread to your chest, pressing you down further into the soft mattress as if a heavy weight had been placed on top of you.

If it weren't for the long and dark drapes hanging over the windows in your room, you'd think it was still night time, mere minutes having passed since you went to bed. Yet no sleep had made it even close to you even after hours, only melancholic thoughts of Seonghwa getting hurt, there to entertain your exhausted brain. At this point it was torture. Should you call him? Would he even answer? No, he would probably be angry still.

As you sighed, ready to turn to your other side again, you heard faint footsteps slowly growing louder as they approached your bedroom. The marble floor outside helped you make a perfect calculation of how far away this person was, and just as the door flew open, your eyes shut tightly, every muscle in your body squeezing tightly as you tensed up.

"Fucking hell-" a low curse sounded in the otherwise silent room. Seonghwa's shallow breaths filled the rest of the silence as you heard him shuffle to what seemed the bathroom. 'Correct', you thought as the bathroom door shut closed.  

Did Seonghwa fall for that? Did he think you had fallen asleep? You felt almost proud of having fooled him for once, mind racing back to the few times you pretended to be asleep. Those times always ended up with Seonghwa's lips turning up into a cocky smirk as he attacked your sensitive sides with tickles, refusing to let go of your shaking form until tears were streaming down your face from the laughter. No matter how unpleasant it felt, you always looked forward to the soft kiss he sealed his actions with.

You were brought out of your thoughts when a pained groan weakly made its way through the bathroom door.  Your brows knitted together in concern as you sat up immediately. Had you heard it correctly or was it your mind playing games on your exhausted state?

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed as another groan made its way to you. Eyebrows furrowed and nerves eating away at your stomach, you carefully stepped over to the bathroom. With a shaky hand, you push down on the door handle, revealing a sickening sight. Seonghwa sat on the closed toilet lid. Crimson red blood trickled down his lips and chin before joining messily at his neck, running down and under his white dress shirt that was soaked in dried blood already.

"S-Seonghwa?" your bottom lip quivered as you stood frozen at the door frame. At that moment he seemed to stop his cleaning up process, hand pausing in the air as he acknowledged your presence. Fuck, he had forgotten to lock the door.

"Leave," he grumbled before pressing a cotton pad to his nose, tilting his head back slightly as the white material quickly absorbed the flow of blood from his nose. You didn't even acknowledge the tears threatening to spill from you as your chest forgot to rise, forgot to take a breath. A harsh sounding and tight-throated sob leaves your lips as it all comes crashing down. It was not your initial discomfort for blood, but rather his blood that made your hands tremble as you took another step closer to him.

"I said leave," he spits, knowing he wouldn't be able to handle cleaning up and seeing you cry at the same times. Knowing he'd rather bleed out comforting you, than tending to his wounds.

"N-no," you sniffle and come even closer, collecting yourself with a shaky breath as your eyes searched for more cotton pads and the hydrogen peroxide liquid, having heard from Hongjoong once or twice that it was used to stop blood quicker. With shaky hands, you reach out to his face and cringe as your hands touch the warm and soaked cotton pad, removing it from his bloody nose and throwing it away into the sink. You swallowed back a pained sob that threatened to leave your lips when you saw the blossoming purple bruise around his left eyes. Your bottom lip quivered, but you said nothing as you grabbed a new cotton pad, twisting it into a small string and pouring the liquid onto it before gently pushing it into his nose.

You looked down at your bloodied hands and then back at his face. Seonghwa had closed his eyes again, trying his best to stop any emotions from being able to enter and leave him. He knew he had to think logically from now on, and seeing your heartbroken form would do the exact opposite, he'd snap in mere seconds.

You reach out gently, placing your hand on his sharp jaw, gently as if he was made out of porcelain. You still found him breathtaking, and despite the circumstances, you couldn't help but look down at his plump, slightly chapped, lips.

"Hwa," you whispered more to yourself, voice breaking. You shook your head when you were met with silence, knowing you had to do something to help him. It's the least you could do. With that, you reached for a small towel, turning away from Seonghwa to wet the rough material with warm water. Without questioning your actions, Seonghwa opened his cold eyes to observe, letting you do whatever it is you planned to. You avoided his cold gaze, not wanting to be reminded of your earlier confrontation.

With a shaky hand, you gently cleaned the drying blood away from his face with the towel, careful not to overstep his boundaries. For every second that Seonghwa watched your face twisted in concentration, he felt the ice around his heart melt off piece by piece until...

"Baby-" he whispered, eyes back to his warm and softly round ones. The same eyes as when you had worn his hoodie at home for the first time or when you told him you loved him. You almost thought that you had imagined it out of desperation, not stopping your process for even a second. Seonghwa couldn’t deny himself anymore and sighed, reaching out to place his hands on your hips, squeezing the soft flesh with a satisfied hum.

Your eyes quickly jumped to his, brows furrowed as you wondered what it is that he wanted. "D-did it hurt? I'm so sorry, I just-" you rambled, only stopping when Seonghwa sat up and reached forward to finally place his lips on yours. The initial contact was sloppy and you could feel your nose press against his cheek uncomfortably. Yet that didn't stop a big wave of warmth from spreading through your body as if a firework had exploded inside of you. You gasped and before you could comprehend what was happening, Seonghwa had you straddling his thighs, pulling away for a second to reposition the both of you before reconnecting your lips in a much deeper kiss. Despite the confusion and fear to hurt him, you also couldn't deny that this is what you wanted right now. You dropped the dirty towel on the floor and reached forward to wrap your arms around his neck, careful in case he had more injuries.  

Soft mewls left your lips as his digits dug into your flesh, holding onto you as if you'd run away.

"I took care of them, all of them" he whispered against your lips, moving down to press his lips to the base of your neck. "What do y-you me-" you tried asking but instead let out a low moan as he bit down on your skin. Seonghwa smirked at your reactions proudly, tongue sticking out to lick a long stripe of skin right up to your jaw, humming to himself as he felt you melt in his arms.

"You don't wanna know what I did to them...," he mutters, pulling away to finally get a look at your dishevelled form. Lips slightly swollen and cheeks flushed from the intensity of his kiss. Somehow the information only shot another wave of warmth through your body and this time it was you that launched forward to press your lips to his, for a second taking Seonghwa by surprise. Yet he had no problem taking the control right back from you as he squeezed down on your thigh. His tongue snaked into your mouth as you gasped, a low groan left his throat as everything around you seemed to turn black, only you and him existed in this close and intimate moment.

Seonghwa pulled away with a heavy breath, eyes lustful. You sat back with your hands on his shoulders, breathing heavily as well. Both of you felt alive, awake and alive despite not having gotten any sleep. Your eyes didn't leave Seonghwa's and you swore you saw the second his rounded eyes changed back to the colder and stoic eyes from earlier.

"...And you, still have a lesson to learn,"

#seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #ateez #ateez mafia #ateez mafia au #ateez reaction #ateez reactions #ateez scenario #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez angst #kpop reactions #park seonghwa

[emperor-palpaminty]

Killing Time

Because nothing can kill a relationship like lies.

A modern AU where crosshair is a hitman and you're his loyal girlfriend who happens to be in the bodyguard business, but neither one of you know the other's careers

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, making oit and allusions to smut, also this is in no way accurate to real life and it's just dramatic, please don't hurt me lol

children you have full permission to run away and not come here, in fact please run away

Very few things phased you. The only things that brought you to your precipice of agitation was burning pasta, your phone charger not working, and showing up to your shift only to realize someone had been killing all your clients.

Who said keeping people alive was easy? No one, that was who, and if anyone said it they were wrong or had no experience working with others whatsoever. Making sure others lived to see their next day was deadly business, for the people that were trying to live, at least.

“Charles!” You barked, feet hitting the floor of the bull pen. “What the hell happened?” You slammed your files on your desk, face warm, head just about collapsing with pressure. Your fingers pressed to your temples, hoping that they would grip it, hold it together. “Burke was alive when I left last night.”

“Doesn't matter now." Your coworker dropped his sandwich onto his desk. "Burke is fucking dead now. As dead as a doorknob." He swallowed his bite. "Luckily, you weren't on shift when it happened, so you aren't gonna catch any fire for it."

"Shit, Charles, a man is dead." You collapsed in your chair, a gentle "oomph" escaping your mouth. Your lips pressed together in agitation and you moaned to yourself. "This is the third one in two months. Sure, I'll get a couple cold bodies, but-"

"But this is a lot." Charles sunk into his own chair, grabbing for his sandwich again.

You stared at him, disbelief coating your gaze. "One is a lot, Charles," You snarled, grabbing at the folder on your desk. "Any leads?"

"Oh, yeah. But they're all at Burke's mansion." Charles tossed the crust of his lunch into the trash can. "I can drive ya."

"No, I'll take my car," You grumbled. You swiped the keys from your desk and stood, stalking back towards the elevator, anger eating away at you.

If one more of your clients- YOUR own clients- got killed, you would have to start pulling full shifts again.

___

Your shoes, practical, did little more than tap against the marble floor as you ducked under the Police tape. You skimmed the scene, frowning, eyes gracing past a particularly nasty chunk of gore on the wall. "Shot from above," You mumbled, glancing at the shattered window.

The mansion was huge. You'd been coming here for nearly a year now to keep an eye on Burke, and it still shocked you when you saw the absolute volume of the home. How much house would one man need, exactly?

In your years as a bodyguard you'd watched out for a lot of people- spoiled celebrities, prideful and arrogant politicians, and a particularly interesting Chef who had an unusual desire to cook everything with some kind of caffeine in it. That was probably your favorite client.

"Excuse me, miss," a voice broke the mumble in the next room, probably of detectives or cops sweeping the house for evidence. "You shouldn't-"

"I was Burke's bodyguard." You tugged your badge out or your pocket, allowing the interrupting police officer to take it and examine it. “You can verify with my assistant, Charles. Make sure you tell him he’s my assistant and not the other way around, though, he can be a dick.”

The cop hesitated, then gave a slight nod. “Well, we’re still cleaning up the scene.” His hands offered your badge back, and you slid it into your back pocket, satisfaction deflating. “You can come by later after it’s clean. Ballistics is running comparisons right now.” He paused and glanced at the shattered window. “Looks like the shot came from the garage. It’s the only side with no motion sensors or alarms.” The cop’s brows raised in interest. “Know why?”

“No.” You said, calmly, turning towards the front door. “I assume I can go there?” You heard no objection as you stepped outside, tugging your sunglasses back on over your eyes. The sun was unforgiving and you gave an involuntary hiss as the bright rays hit your eyes just right to temporarily give your vision black spots. You blinked strongly and hurried towards the garage. 

In truth, Burke had alarms everywhere except the garage because he had so many people and cars coming and going. For any new technology the billionaire was releasing, the man had drugs and other forms of entertainment coming in and out, and it was all stuff that would probably bring him down. That nondisclosure form was still somewhere in the house in some obscure filing cabinet and you really, really, really didn’t feel like having a lawsuit lurking over your shoulders. Life was too good- well, everything outside of people you were being paid to keep alive was good. 

Death really killed the whole “survival” business.

You clamored your way to the roof of the garage, noting the ladder was the same one that the gardener used around the several acres Burke owned. The police had to have put it here- the gardener only came in the mornings.

So who the hell climbed up here without a ladder? Most people didn’t want to put in the effort to scale this freehand or wedge between the wall of the garage and the fence to shimmy up. That someone had to be either very determined to kill Burke, for personal motive or financial motive.

You brushed off you pants and glanced around, looking down at the surface of the roof. Nothing- not even a bullet casing- had been left behind. You frowned and raked a hand through your hair, skimming your scalp as you examined the roof, walking to the edge closest to the window.

You stared in, at the shattered glass, pondering. Burke was heading to bed when he'd been shot, you assumed, so the assassian would have had to know his routine. Your mind ran through possibilities again, but you could come up with none that were motivated personally enough or fit enough to climb without much assistance. You trailed along the surface, frowning, unable to find anything, but paused at a smudge of black paint, small, on the corner of the roof.

____

You turned your car down the street, exhaling softly as you pulled into your driveway.

99. That was what the marks said. Very subtle, meant nothing, unless it was a birth year or graduating class. The cops had come back, irritated, snapped a couple of pictures, and told you off about your wild theories of a fiscally motivated assassian. Apparently, you watched too many scret agent movies, or something like that.

You opened the door of the car and climbed out, frustration making you slam it shut. You inhaled the scent of the yard- clean, fresh cut, and perhaps it could help soothe your anger before you went inside.

After fumbling on your Keychain, you unlocked the door and hurried in, locking it behind you. "Cross?"

A savory aroma wafted from the kitchen, and your mouth watered. Your toes found their way out of your shoes and you hurried to the kitchen, pausing briefly at the doorway.

Cross's lanky figure was leaning over the skillet, stirring something, pale hands moving in expertise across the stove top. "Darling, you're late." He drawled.

You sighed, fully entering the kitchen. "Yeah. Sorry." You leaned up and wrapped your arms around his waist, face pressing against his back. You sighed. The day felt a little less bad now- filled with him. "Work kept me."

"How was work?"

You grunted. "A killer. An absolute killer." The irony was not lost on you, but it was lost to your boyfriend. He thought you were an editor for some book publishing company, because cover was the most important thing. You were one of those people trying to stay alive, after all.

Lies hurt, but it was one of the necessary ones. A little lie.

"Yikes." His hands drew plates to himself. "Mine wasn't much better. Got a few new clients, a few new cases." He sighed. "The Baliff forgot to submit evidence."

You mumbled against his shirt. "Law school really paid off, huh?"

"I'll say." He turned around, adjusting your arms, slowly taking your chin and leaning down to peck you. You always melted at his kisses, knees weak and brain numb, and he seemed to know it every time. You hummed, running your hands up his chest, the irritation for the day pooling to your midsection as your fingers gripped his shirt, your lips pulling in on his.

Cross tugged away gently, and you whined, fingers stubbornly clasped. "Wow, really frustrated today."

"Yes," You mumbled.

His lips pressed towards one of their corners in a half smile, and he picked your head. "Go shower. Then we can eat and I'll take care of you."

You hummed, fingers reluctantly releasing him, and you hurried away to the bathroom. You paused at the dresser, rummaging through, grabbing an especially large t-shirt and hipster underwear. Comfort was more important at the moment.

You climbed into the shower, turning the water to as hot as you could and scrubbing yourself off, humming in pleasure as the day came off you and went down the drain. The floral scent of the soap remained, the purple bad working diligently to rid you of your grime and frustration. Lavender really is a natural relaxant. You sighed and leaned back briefly on the tile, feeling every muscle in you ease at the same time.

After toweling off and getting dressed, your padded to the kitchen where Cross was pouring a your favorite wine. You sighed happily, accepting the glass as he skimmed your fresh-showered body. "Thanks."

"Of course." Cross picked up his own glass, taking a sip, eyes still diligently stripping you on their own. You shivered slightly, setting down your glass and looking up at him. "Dinner's ready," He mumbled, leaning in, pressing a hand to the counter of either side of you, leaving your back to the counter. "But I would much rather start with dessert."

You drew in a breath as he pressed his lips to your neck, drawing out a sigh with his teeth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, humming in agreement, and he scooped you up. Your groaned as he drew your legs around his lips, shifting, the agitating heat pooling back between your legs. "That's a good idea." You mumbled, whimpering as he bucked his hips slightly. "I just showered, though."

"Then we can take another one," He hissed, lips covering yours. "You're so damn intoxicating."

You mumbled something against his lips, unable to get a coherent response out as he dropped you on the bed. You bounced briefly, giggling, and he yanked off his shirt and joined you, climbing over you and hovering. "Come here, sweetheart," His finger traced over your shirt between your breasts, running down to the hem. "Let's end the day on a good note."

You whimpered, neck straining as you leaned up for his kiss, and you felt Cross snarl against you, tugging your surrendered form up closer to him. Your body relaxed again, neck loosening and head back against the pillow as he tugged your own shirt up, eyes gleaming with a primal eagerness that made you swoon, ready to work out the agitation for the day you both had.

#crosshair x reader #bad batch crosshair x reader #bad batch au #hitman crosshair #bad batch reader insert #clone force 99 reader insert #crosshair #crosshair x you #minty writes

[ottermoone]

Tribute to Gwydion, Cat of cats

I lost my best friend two days ago. His name was Gwydion, and he was a few months shy of 12.

I was there the day he was born, in early 2007, when my neighbor knocked on our door and told us excitedly that her 2 cats were having kittens. I was 11 years old, in the 5th grade.

We hadn't initially expected to adopt a kitten, but the last litter of kittens had included a few white kittens, and my mother wanted another white cat, as we had lost an older white kitty who we'd both been very close to a couple years before. So we headed down and sat with a group of people, and watched the newborn kittens finally nuzzle up to their moms, a black cat named Hemy, and a tortoiseshell named Patches. Patches had a couple white kittens in her litter, and my mother asked the neighbor if we could adopt one of them when they were old enough.

5 or 6 weeks later, my mother came back up to our apartment with a small kitten. He was all white, except for his tail, which was orange and striped. I was told that he was only going to explore our apartment for a little bit before going back downstairs to his mom. I watched him run around excitedly, playing with my two other cats (Hercules and Persephone--both who hissed at him), and we laid out a shoebox filled with litter in case he needed to go, since he was so small we were afraid he'd get stuck in the regular litter box. He eventually used it, and squeezed out the tiniest and stinkiest poo I'd ever seen. I still remember it. My mother eventually took him back down to the neighbors', and a week or 2 later, he came to live with us permanently.

I didn't get to name him--my mother liked to give me the illusion of "choosing a name," which she'd then immediately reject before telling me what we were naming the animal. She initially told me we were going to name him Cernunnos, because she wanted a Celtic name for the cat, because of his coloring (white animals were considered sacred in Celtic mythology, apparently). She eventually rejected that name ("It sounds too much like 'Sir' ... Sir Lancelot, Sir Galahad...") and settled on Gwydion instead. It took me a full week before I was able to remember and pronounce his name (Gwid-ee-in).

My mother was an abusive hoarder, and we lived in poverty, so in the apartment we were living in at the time, we slept next to each other on a queen-sized memory foam mattress pad in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by trash and clothes and other junk. So the first night we brought Gwydion home, he did what all kittens do and started pouncing on anything that moved underneath a blanket. Unfortunately, when we tried to sleep, that ended up being our toes. After a half hour of him pouncing on our toes, my mother got impatient and told me to lock him up in another room for the night.

He began crying almost immediately, and when I was sure my mother had fallen asleep (as I knew I'd get in trouble otherwise), I went back in and grabbed him, took him back to the mattress pad with me, and laid him on my chest. I pet him gently and constantly until he fell asleep there, and then finally fell asleep myself. When I woke up the next morning, he was still there, and we were inseparable forever after. Every night after that, he'd come and lay on my neck or my chest, purring and kneading.

Over the next year, he got more orange coloring in his fur, and my mother gave him less attention (I think because he wasn't the pure white cat she had wanted, and also because she was jealous of the bond we shared), until it was plainly obvious that he was my cat.

We both suffered extremely abusive and impoverished conditions together over the years that I won't delve into here. But throughout those years, wherever we were living, and whether he was mainly an indoor or outdoor cat at the time, every night, he'd come to where I was sleeping, cuddle up next to me or on my chest, and stay there until I fell asleep.

For several years, he and my other cat, Hercules, were forced by my mother to be locked in my tiny room, day in and day out, never being allowed out, unless they happened to slip out when the bedroom door opened, and then ran outside (as the front door was almost always open due to broken AC). In those years, he learned what crying meant, and eventually, when I'd start crying, he'd immediately be there, forcing his way into my arms or onto my chest, kneading and purring until I stopped crying and fell asleep.

There was a day where I had basically made up my mind to kill myself. I was almost 13, and had laid in bed all day, from the time I woke up until after night time, with blackout curtains drawn. I hadn't eaten anything, and it felt like time didn't exist. It was the emptiest I can ever remember feeling. I just lay there, feeling nothing. Eventually, after hours of thinking about the quickest and easiest way to die, my mind settled on drinking bleach. As I started to sit up, getting ready to walk out of my room, he was suddenly on my lap from out of nowhere, crawling up my chest, kneading and purring. As if he knew. Looking back now, I realize he had been laying next to me the entire time, but I had been so out of it that I hadn't noticed. At that moment, all feeling came rushing back, and I began crying, horrified at what I'd almost done. I hugged him and cried some more until I fell asleep.

We moved again after a few years, this time into government housing, and he was allowed to roam the apartment or go outside as often as he wanted. Still, every night without fail, when I laid down, he'd be there next to me.

A few days after my 18th birthday, I secretly brought all my important belongings to school with me, and moved in with my boyfriend. I hadn't been able to get Gwydion out because I hadn't wanted to raise my mother's suspicions before I left--we had stopped letting him outside as often because I didn't want him to get hurt. I had planned on it for weeks, though--my boyfriend had planned to show up that morning with a cat carrier as I quietly slipped him out the door and into my boyfriend's waiting car. But the night before, I realized my mother would notice if he were suddenly gone all day, and that it might hurt my chances of getting out, and if I couldn't get out, I couldn't ever get Gwydion out. So I let my boyfriend know not to come pick him up. It was one of the hardest decisions I ever made.

Those few months without him at night were rough, and I felt so guilty. But eventually, a few months later, my mother was evicted, and she asked me to take him and Hercules or they would be going to the pound. My boyfriend was super sweet and helped me pick them up, as well as necessary cat supplies, and thus began Gwydion's second life. He was 7 years old.

Gwydion had always been sweet to me, but he'd never been fixed, and he'd also been through abuse and lived outside part time, so he wasn't very sweet to other people. He also liked to spray. One of the first things we did was get him fixed and vaccinated. He immediately stopped spraying, and within a few short months, he was cuddling with my boyfriend as well.

For the first time, I was able to spoil him. He was able to walk and climb anywhere he wanted, he had multiple places to lay, he had access to a constant supply of food that never ran out, he had AC, he had a clean litter box, he had his best friend Hercules, he had two people doting on him, he didn't have fleas, and once every week, on Friday night, he'd get canned food. It took a little time, but eventually, he relaxed fully and began to enjoy himself, and he became an even more amazing cat, if that's even possible. He stopped laying on my chest every night, but that's mainly because he could come and lay on my chest or my boyfriend's chest at any time of the day he wanted. He would sometimes lay right on top of both of us at night though, which wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but it was still sweet.

Hercules was put to sleep a few years later, in November of 2016. Gwydion didn't eat for 3 days, and so I eventually took him to the vet, and they induced his appetite. Thankfully he ate after that, but he was very stand-offish for the next few months.

Around the same time, we got a new kitten from the nearby shelter, who we named Crono. At first, Gwydion cuddled with Crono, but after Hercules' passing, he began to growl and hiss at Crono, and eventually, Crono learned to leave him alone. Feeling bad that Crono had no one to play with, we eventually got a 3rd cat from the same shelter, an 8 month old kitten, who we named Noctis. Noctis and Crono became immediate best friends, and within a month, Gwydion began being his old self again too, grooming the other two and even playing with them at times.

We moved a few months later, this time into a bigger apartment with a backyard and multiple windows, and we got a cat tree. Gwydion had always loved sunbathing, and so he loved this apartment. He could walk almost anywhere in the apartment and have access to a window. He also continued playing with the other two for a little while, which meant he gained a little muscle and evened out to a healthy weight. He was so happy I swear he glowed.

Unfortunately, a few months ago, he started losing weight rapidly, even though he was eating more. For reasons I don't want to explain here, including the fact that he was no longer cleaning himself, I realized a few days ago that this was it, and to keep going just because I adored him would be selfish of me. In my teens, I had seen multiple animals die without the benefit of euthanasia. I couldn't bear the thought of him having to go through that, and I realized he was getting close. So I made the hardest decision I've ever made, and chose to help him go.

My boyfriend and I were able to get a vet to visit us, as he'd always hated car trips. He got to spend his last day sun bathing, getting his favorite canned food, and his favorite treats. He spent his last hour cuddling on my lap. He was too tired and weak to lay up on my chest. I pet him gently and constantly as he lay there, and he passed quietly as I stroked him and told him I loved him.

It still doesn't feel entirely real. The moments when it does, the pain cuts deeper than a hot knife. I will be honest--I don't believe in an afterlife. I wish I did. Because then I might get some solace from the "Rainbow Bridge" poem, or the multitude of pictures assuring me that he's in heaven now, watching over me. But I will never see him again. He is gone. He'll never come up to me again, kneading and purring and booping my face. I'll never hear his sassy little voice again. It's going to take a long time to fully process. But I do know this: if angels were real, he'd be one. I wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for him. I wouldn't know the meaning of unconditional love, and I wouldn't be who I am or where I am now without having had the honor of having him in my life. So no matter the pain that continues to come in waves as reality settles over me, I will never regret bringing that little kitten with the stinky poop, who pounced on my toes while I tried to sleep, home.

I love you so much, baby boy. I am glad you existed at the same time as I did. I will carry the memory of you with me for as long as I live.

One of our first nights together.

Stuck in my room together. One of the few times he wore a collar. He tore it off not long after this picture was taken.

After he moved in with me and my boyfriend. Very relaxed and carefree

Pretty boy ❤️

Arm hugging and purring like crazy

Gwydion and Hercules: best friends

Part 2

Cuddling with one of our rats, Rosa

Cuddling with Crono when he was a kitten

The last picture taken, a week ago: cuddling with Noctis.

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Rest in peace, baby kitty.

#personal #journal therapy #loss #pet loss #death of a pet #soul mate #best friend #fur baby #baby kitty #love #memories #abuse #in memorium #best cat #euthanasia #my kitty love #eulogy #eulogy for a cat #cat #pain #in memoriam #memorial #pet memorial #I miss you so much #long text post #Gwydion