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ellethespaceunicorn · 2 months

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Helllooooo!!! I hope you're having a good day!! 💕💜✨

Can I submit a prompt where Lloyd calls in his normally mousey assistant on one of her off days and is blown back by her casual attire? Maybe she's on her way out of hang with the girls and she's got her hottie/freekum dress/attire on.

Bonus if she is as completely I bothered as she normally is and even teases him a bit for his audacity 😈😈

I appreciate you're brain and the time you spend sharing it with us!! ☺️💕💜

Hi nonny!! So sorry this took so long, but here it is! And just as a warning, this one is a doozy and I will not be earning bonus points based on your ask.

Is getting negative points a thing?? (Because this thing went off the rails...)

Title: Power Play: After Hours

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: What happens when Lloyd sees you, his assistant, in something other than what you usually wear? Well, you should be worried about what he does when he sees you.

Warnings: horrible boss Lloyd, pet name (Mouse), power imbalance, multiple threats of violence, non-con, forced oral sex (f receiving), slight dacryphilia, forced hand job (m receiving), dub-con p-in-v intercourse, vaginal creampie, forced oral sex (m receiving), oral creampie, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: I apologize to nonny who asked for something (I think) completely different. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You’re at home getting ready to go out with the girls. It has been ages since you had a free night to let your hair down. But tonight was the night.

You made sure to ditch the wool sweaters, drab colors, and sensible shoes that you usually wear to work. Instead, you opt for a form-fitting pinstripe dress that ends just above your knee. Large hoop earrings push through your hair and demand attention. Your feet are covered in strappy heels that are cuter than they are comfortable.

But beauty is pain, no?

Just as you are exiting your apartment and entering your car, your phone buzzes. You pull your phone from your purse and growl at the text message from your boss.

Your boss, your reason for migraine medication, the bane of your existence. Lloyd Hansen. Getting an internship with Hansen Government Service was supposed to be a summer gig to help you pay for odds and ends during your last year at college. But no, you had to go ahead and impress the CEO with your problem-solving and the way you covered your former boss’ ass one too many times.

And now here you are, the personal assistant to this deplorable caricature of a human being. Amazing vision and dental benefits aside, you were the glorified babysitter to a sociopath with an inferiority complex. But you keep your mouth shut and your head down because you know where your bread is buttered.

The text from Lloyd is still sitting in your inbox unread one minute later when your phone starts to ring. You were hoping he would think you were asleep or something, but you remember Lloyd doesn’t observe normal business hours. And he doesn’t give a shit if you have a day off either.

“Yes, Sir,” you answer with Lloyd’s preferred moniker.

“Why didn’t you answer my text?” he asks, his annoyed tone unmistakable.

“I apologize for not being available to you, Sir. What can I help you with?” you acknowledge, wanting him to get to his point of bothering you.

“Hmmm. I’m gonna ignore you being rudely polite. For now. Need you to get my dry cleaning, Mouse,” he advises, using that nickname that boils your blood.

“Sir. It’s almost 9 p.m. Are the dry cleaners still open?” you wonder aloud.

“I called them, and they agreed to re-open so that I could get my shirts. Wasn’t that nice of them? You don’t wanna keep that sweet old lady waiting this late at night, do you?” he persuades, a sinister chuckle sending a chill down your spine.

“I will pick up your shirts for you, Sir,” you question.

“Had to pull a late night at the office, but I’m leaving now. Meet me at my place, Mouse,” he replies.

“Yes, Sir,” you say, holding back the urge to scream in his ear and ending the call.

By being at the office, he is within walking distance of the shop where his clothing is being held.

Deep breaths. Don’t let him take your joy.

You pass your office building and veer into the small shopping center. Stepping into the shop, you realize you don’t have a ticket, but you also know that the place is staying open for only one reason.

“You here to pick up Hansen?” The old woman behind the counter smiles at you and you nod stepping over to her, “Very particular, that one. Don’t let him work you too hard, honey.”

“Oh, thank you,” you greet, smiling when she handed over the hangers of shirts covered in plastic material, “May I just apologize for him keeping you open past your hours?”

Before you can apologize, the sweet woman comes around the counter and pats your hand.

“How long are you going to apologize for him? Just go home, honey. And good luck with that one,” she reasons, and she scoots you out of the store before you can tell her that you’re only his assistant, not his long-suffering wife.

You give up trying to explain yourself and turn around to get back in your car. With the shirts hung in the back seat, you speed until you get to Lloyd’s gated community. Pushing in the code to the outer gate, you squirm in your seat as the gate slowly opens.

Driving through streets with pretentious names, you end up at the cul-de-sac where his McMansion sits center-stage among the other Stepford homes. You park next to his vehicle in the spacious driveway, a BMW M8 Competition Convertible in Alpine White. Not a scratch on her sparkling surface.

You stuff down the urge to put a scratch on his car because he will notice it. He notices everything. And with the level of neat freak that he is, he probably would notice a single fingerprint on the car’s hood.

Walking up to the door, you see the Ring camera and press the doorbell. The porch light comes on and the door opens to reveal your boss talking on the phone with one earbud in his ear. He pauses and looks you up and down before letting you walk in around him.

“I’m gonna have to go, something just came up,” he purrs, adjusting himself in the two seconds you were looking away from him. He pulls out his earbud, ending the call and turning his attention to you, “Mouse, glad you could make it, but you didn’t have to dress up for me.”

“I didn’t. Here are your shirts. Can I help you with anything else, Sir?” you explain, holding his dry cleaning out so he can take them.

Once he reaches out, he bypasses the shirts, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him. “Maybe there is one thing you can do for me, Mouse. It is quite a big job though,” he dares, ghosting his thumb over your pulse point.

“Hmmm. Sir, I didn’t come all this way to do whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you warn, putting your hand on his chest to push him away as you feel his increased heart rate.

His eyes are dark, with barely any blue left in the iris. You can almost feel how hungry he is for you.

“Well, I was gonna say I wouldn’t mind a blowjob from those perfect glossy lips. But I think I wanna hear your mouth moan for me while I eat that pretty pussy instead,” he admits, taking the shirts out of your hand before hoisting you over his shoulder.

“Sir! No! Put me down, you fucking psycho. What are you doing?” you demand, pounding your hands on his back and landing a harsh blow directly to his ass.

“Fuck, Mouse! Hands to yourself, or I won’t keep my hands to myself, ok?” he cautions, surprising you with a hard slap to your ass, “And you got that wrong anyway, I’m technically a sociopath, not a psychopath.”

You’re in a state of stunned silence as he walks up the grand staircase in the room and brings you into a bedroom down the hall. You don’t have time to wonder what all of the other rooms are used for as you are dumped on his bed. The silk sheets underneath you are comfortable, but they seem creepy once you think about being thrown down on top of them. Before you can scramble off of the bed, Lloyd grabs you by the hips and traps you under his weight.

“Mouse, mouse, mouse. Why don’t you ever dress like this for me?” he breathes, his clothed erection nestled against your hip, “You wearing this for some asshole? Should call him up and tell him I got to you first.”

“Sir, please. I was just going to hang out with my girls. I promise I won’t say anything about this if you just let me go,” you whimper, your hands going to his chest again trying to push him away.

He grabs your wrists and pins them to the bed. His nose takes in your RiRi perfume as it glides along your neck. Kicking your legs open, he nestles himself in between so he can rock his hips into you. Feeling his hardening dick against your panties as your dress rides up, he groans as he feels the heat coming off of you.

“Kinda funny you want me to let you go. But I bet if I dipped a finger into that cute snatch I know you have, I would find a little honey pot full of delicious sweetness waiting for me. Shall I test that out?” he counters. Holding both wrists in one giant hand as he trails a hand down your body until it disappears between you.

You feel his bruising fingers pushing your panties out of the way to find his prize. His touch turns almost delicate as the tips of his fingers find your wet pussy; your body’s betrayal is evident in the puddle forming on your netherlips. The look in his eyes when he finds what he’s looking for is bordering on sheer joy.

“There it is, Mouse. Just like I knew it would be,” he beams, pulling two fingers coated in your essence to his mouth and sucking them clean, “Fuck. I knew it would be delicious. You’re gonna sit on my face and give me all your sweet cream.”

He rolls your body over so that you are straddling him. You debate trying to scramble off of him, but he pinches your thigh and brings you back to the task at hand. You crawl up his body and hover over his face until he locks his arms around your thighs and pulls you down over his eager mouth.

Looking down at him, he looks serene with his eyes closed as he goes to work on your sensitive folds. For a while, you feel nothing when he licks up your slit. Circling your nub with his tongue, he moans when your clit twitches. When kitten licks against your clit turn to sucking it into his mouth, you can’t restrain the urge to grab a handful of his hair.

If he wants to hear you moan pretty for him, he’s gonna need to do better than this. You grind your pussy into his tongue and sigh when he sticks his tongue directly into your hole. Fucking into you with his tongue is the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

You tighten your fingers in his auburn hair, unable to hold back your orgasm for much longer. Visions of all the times he looked at you like you were a piece of meat flash before your eyes. The way all of his other assistants quit the job after short stints. And you just about gift-wrapped yourself for him tonight.

You should have never answered the phone. But it’s kind of hard to think about that now with the way your resolve is slowly slipping away. You feel the metaphorical rubber band being stretched to within an inch of its life. Until pop!

The wave of your climax washes over you like a warm blanket. Your keening whine is music to Lloyd’s ears as he holds you tighter when you try and extricate yourself from his grasp. He laps up everything you have to give him and makes obscene sucking and licking noises. Once he lets up on your pussy, he lets your weak body roll to the side on its own. You don’t notice you are crying until he licks away one tear.

He looks down at you as he wipes his mustache clean of your juices. “Every part of you tastes amazing, Mouse. Even your tears. Fuck, that’s so hot I got you crying for me,” he hums, wiping away your tears with a thumb as he lays next to your limp body.

You’re quiet as you lay in your boss’ bed, him having just defiled your body with his tongue. Not knowing what to think, your brain just replays everything trying to find where you went so wrong. Because not only was that an Earth-shattering orgasm but it was given to you by your boss. That kind of thing is frowned upon in most companies. But Lloyd is the CEO, are the rules different? You don’t have the time to keep thinking when Lloyd chimes in.

“Now, Mouse, I’m sure your brain is going a mile a minute. But let me make one thing clear: I am going to need you to come into work dressed just like this from now on. You wear something tight, something that shows off this body, something that I can pull up or down and fuck you in while we’re in the office,” he chuckles as you look over to him with tears in your eyes at your new fate, “We’ll put that into your contract. What do you think? From Personal Assistant to Fuck Toy. That’s a step up, huh?”

You say nothing, content to shed tears and wish that the Earth would open up and swallow you.

“Don’t be so gloomy. At least you got to come, unlike some of us. You can help me with that, can’t you Mouse?” he pleads, as if he didn’t just change your job title to fit your new duties. He unzips his pants, pulling out his thick length and reaching for your hand to wrap around it, “I won’t need much help. I could’ve blown in my pants like a fucking teenager when you came in my mouth.”

You wish his mouth would just fucking stop. You don’t need the commentary. You unenthusiastically jerk him off until he spills rope after rope of jizz painting your hand and his pants. At least he was right, he didn’t need much help.

“Good fucking job, Mouse,” he gushes, throwing an arm over his brow as he catches his breath, “Can’t wait to take that cunt for a test drive but I can wait until my balls are not so fucking empty. Go clean yourself up in the bathroom.”

You rise and walk into the attached bathroom all without a single thought in your head. You use the toilet, wash your hands, and splash water on your face. You avoid the mirror like the plague.

Coming back to the bedroom, you are greeted by Lloyd lying on his side and crooking a finger at you. You swallow your spit and take a deep breath, moving to join him on the bed.

Once there, you let him manhandle you in every position he wants. You close your eyes, wishing you were somewhere else. Until he has you on your back. He makes you stare into his eyes as he fucks you like the little puppet you are. When he takes you over the edge again, he doesn’t stop his onslaught until you beg him to stop.

But begging only drives him to go harder. Flesh slapping against flesh painfully until he pushes himself deep within you and stills. Every twitch and spurt felt inside of you like a slap to the face. You’re not on birth control and you fear asking if he is snipped but he speaks up before you can ask.

“I pay you enough to afford the morning-after pill, right?” he asks, his dick softening and sliding out of you.

Fucking asshole. The thought of murder crosses your mind more than once, but you know people might come looking for him. And the thought of having to trade in your freedom for a life behind bars makes you rethink killing this nutcase.

So, instead, you just say, “Yes, Sir.”

“Right. Good. Alright, well it’s not too late for you to go out with your friends. Don’t stay out too late, you have work in the morning. Bright and early, Mouse. I expect you to be there tomorrow,” he remarks, acting like he didn’t just use your body for his sick pleasure, “That means you’re good to go home now, Mouse. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gets off you, climbing off the bed and adjusting himself, pulling you up and escorting you to the front door. He all but pushes you out of the door into the night, as if you were trash. When you get back inside your car, your phone has tons of messages from your friends wondering where you are.

You send a mass text that you weren’t feeling well, and you needed rest. It wasn’t entirely untrue anyway. You make it back home, shedding your clothes as you walk to your bedroom. You pull back the covers and wrap yourself in warmth, willing the events of the night to just go away. But they don’t go away.

The next morning, you shower and dress like Lloyd wants. The looks of your coworkers cause heat to rise to your face. You don’t usually get this type of attention. Or any attention when you think about it.

When you get to Lloyd’s office, he is sitting behind his desk on a call, and he waves you over. You walk around his desk and see his pants are already unbuttoned and his half-chub is sticking out. You spare yourself the embarrassment of being asked and go right to work on him with your hands. Unsurprised when he puts a hand on the back of your head, you just lower yourself and take him in your mouth.

Little does he know; your head game is strong. And within about three minutes, you have him spasming down your throat. His softening cock is sensitive as you tease him by swirling your tongue around the head. He ends his phone call and holds your face in his hands.

“What’s my soul taste like, Mouse? I’m sure you sucked it right out,” he praises, his dazed eyes focusing on you while he catches his breath.

“If you had a soul, I’m sure it would taste as bitter as your cum,” you snap, uncaring of whether or not he was offended.

“Good point. Watch that pretty mouth, though. My precious feelings might get hurt. And then you might get hurt. So, play nice, Mouse,” he cautions, lightly clapping his hand against your cheek, just hard enough to jerk you out of misbehaving.

“Yes, Sir,” you sass, putting on a fake smile and Lloyd rolls his eyes, shooing you away.

You can do what he says, doesn’t mean you have to make it easy for him in the slightest. And isn’t that the best way to get back at him? Give him everything he wants but with no enthusiasm. Of course, you know this little plan of yours won’t last long. But when you’re faced with a demon like Lloyd Hansen, you’ll take any little victory you can. As few and far between as they may be.

A/N: This got way out of hand. I don’t know what happened. Um, I’m not sorry though. Because I love this and if it ends up being just for me, then so be it.

**Tag List**

@peyton-warren @cakesandtom @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @sweetandgentlecreature @foxyjwls007 @art2emily @titty-teetee @princessaxoxo @motivation-idontknowher @buckysteveloki-me @magnificentsaladllama @gyusbrownie @milknhonies @sultry-rachael @itsthestutterforme

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

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candywife333 · 5 months

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My Little Saesang (Part 1)

chubby reader x idol jungkook

Summary: Y/N had been a super fan for a while. Some would say bordering on saesang or creep level. She didn't think she was one, till she experienced an incident that made her stop being a fan. She had never thought that Jungkook or any of BTS ever noticed her, as she was part of the masses of obsessive fans. But they had. Especially, one doe eyed idol in particular. He never thought he would miss his fan, or shall we say saesang. Yet, he couldn't help but notice her absence. And he didn't know when her presence started to matter to him so much.

Disclaimer: The Jungkook represented in this fic does not reflect the true actions or thoughts of the real life Jungkook. Please treat this fic as exactly what it is, fiction

Triggers: Critique of fandom culture and kpop as a whole, identity crisis, eventual smut

Note: Not proofread. Slated to be approximately 4 parts or less.

"Y/N, what the hell are you still doing in that cafe? Didn't we come over here to spy on Jungkook at his house before he heads off to M-CountDown for his performance? I don't remember scheduling a pit-stop for you to have a second lunch", Kim-Hee glared down at me through her thick framed black glasses that honestly sort of made her look like a sexy principal. Anger at being diverted from her goal of catching the tan pop-star in his sweaty excellence seemed to cloud her vision.

I retorted back with a snort, "You know me very well at this point, after being my fellow saesang comrade in arms for close to 2 years girl. I am digesting my food baby as we speak and will soon be ready for delivery in that nasty garbage ass smelling toilet. I have a date with the shits, so to speak. Don't you see that my jeans are popped open and the zip down ready to go. I don't got the energy to chase this man today. Our stunt at New York was bad enough, don't you think"? Shaking my head at her idiocy even after knowing me for so long, I exclaimed, "Feel free to chase him in time for his ending fairy if you feel like it though. I am just not feeling it today".

Kim Hee, my bestie, stared at me with squinted eyes, black tiny eyes glittering in the harsh sun, "Girl, you were the one who had this all scheduled out a month back? How could you not bloody commit at the crucial time!!!! Our fucking junior fans are counting on your stupid ass". I waved my right at her in dismissal, ramen sauce covering my lips like a new Fenty lipstick that I just could not afford right now with my measly ass job as janitor at KBS.

I snarled back in irritation, "Tell those kids to go and study in college, that's more important than following his dumb ass anyways. He won't remember them for their troubles. At max, he will remember a few fans from their initial debut days , get married to a rich ass plasticky actress, have beautiful spoiled kids, and die a rich philanthropist. Saesangs don't get paid if you catch my point. Honestly, if it paid as a job, I would consider it. But I think I may have to retire". I patted my distended stomach in contentment, satisfied with the first proper meal I had in 3 days, stalking JK with my team all over New York and then catching a flight to Korea for his album showcase.

My bestie stared at me now in shock, with wide eyes, hands waving in the air, clearly confused at my statements, "Didn't you just say a week ago that this was all worth it? That supporting our faves, especially BTS, and the lord and savior himself , Jungkook, was a noble passion to pursue? Why have you suddenly done a 180 on us and him like this"? I flinched visibly at her reminder of what I used to be and who I used to be. The person she described felt foreign to me now. Ever since I opened my eyes and saw what fans, especially super fans like us, who didn't have a life outside of BTS suffered, I was a reformed woman. A reformed woman who had decided as of now to save all my money for some botox and a dental appointment, some clothes for mom and dad, and a hot meal for my younger sister. I was going to go from being a crysallis to a butterfly. In essence, I was going to woman the fuck up. That's what the fuck I was about to do with my life.

With this aim in mind, I slammed my fist against the plastic table, startling Kim Hee. "Bestie, you never got close enough to JK to see how much he hated it, okay? He hated us in those moments that we invaded his privacy. Remember that one time I snuck up on the set of them filming "Black Swan" to give him a godiva chocolate my mom had brought back from Sweden?" Kim Hee nodded in assent, clearly knowing how much of big deal it was for me to part with food of any kind, for any reason, for anyone (Even my own family). I loved luxury chocolate and food in general. Nobody could rip it out of my hands , as evidenced by Kim Hee and all our friends in middle school when I slapped a guy stupid and hit him in the nuts for taking a ferrero rocher out of my hands---the motherfucker.

I continued ,"Well I gave it to his hands while he was waiting outside at the entrance of the set. Even normies like me are allowed on that area, it was not a restricted filming area. I just left the chocolate next to where he was sitting, with a red bow (his name engraved on it) wrapped around it. He legit stared at me in confusion, like he had not seen me for the past 9 years, sneered at me, disdain in his beady black eyes and threw the chocolate in the dustbin like it was as figment of his imagination". Kim Hee stared at me in dismay, clearly knowing that what I considered the foremost cardinal sin in life was throwing away food, particularly expensive food.

I wrung my hands in the air, holding in my tears, "Bestie, it was white chocolate, do you understand? It was limited christmas edition. I could never afford that chocolate in my dreams , if not for one of mom's colleagues gifting it to her. Chili ,(my sister) was yapping about it for days, salivating, thinking she could bite into it. And I sacrificed it to an undeserving multi millionaire". I sat back down on the bench, numbly, tears streaming down my face. I was so done with him and the entire group at this point. I understand that what we do, Saesangs, stalkers, whatever they like to call us, is not correct. We should not be so invasive. But I always told the kids who followed in my footsteps that we could support them, but just not to the point that we impinged on their personal lives. I had done some fucked up things as a newbie army, but two years into their debut, I understood that limits were required.

The most I had ever done since then, was to gift the members things as a fan. Whatever I could afford. Whether that was their favorite convenience store snack left by us on the set of one of their music video shoots. Or a pack of gum or their favorite desserts when we attended fan meets. I and the girls who followed me on these adventures, as I used to call them, never snuck into HYBE. We were of the more benign variety, not on par with the crazies who took the same flight as them (not that I could afford that), or collected saliva, sweat, and urine samples. For goodness sakes, we didn't even run after their vehicles, we just waved politely and jumped up and down like rabid dogs that had treats waved in their faces.

The moment I was compelled to stop following my fave, or I guess my former bias as of now, was simply when he casually looked at the chocolate I had left next to him as though it were poison, and tossed it in the trash without looking back. That was when I knew, I was worthless in his eyes, along with the rest of the fans who tried so hard.

We shelled out money saved up from little jobs and pocket money accumulated for months together, to buy expensive albums, merchandise, and anything else they put out. We forgo the little luxuries like nicer shoes and warmer coats in winter to buy tickets for outdoor showcases and shiver in the cold wind to just catch a glimpse of one of their half smiles. We stream their music that speaks of love that we do not comprehend, love whose face is so unfamiliar in our youth that we would pass it by as though it were a stranger. When we don't have anyone in our lives to hug us and hold us and kiss us, to wipe our tears and pat us on the back when we are down and to tell us that everything will be alright, we stare at them in the tabloids extrapolating who they could be in love with, fantasizing about a love that could never be ours. We live our lives, living for them, living around them as though we are satellites caught int he orbit of a bigger planet, and now, it does not make sense to me anymore.

It may just be a chocolate, stupid worthless and insignificant to him. It may be cheap, a show of cheap love that he wishes to spit on. But it wasn't cheap to me. My love wasn't cheap. Food isn't cheap, especially food bestowed with love. And I was done giving my love away for free, as though it meant nothing. As though it were a cheap cigarette to be smoked and discarded, ground under the foot of someone who had finished using it for a fleeting high. Cheap and dispensable and convenient, that's what we were, what I had become.

I cringed internally as my gaze redirected towards Kim Hee. I croaked out in determination while chewing on the remnants of soggy ramyun, "We are done babe. I am through with this horrible, parasitic relationship. I am going to figure out how to make myself rich or get rich through marriage. I am done being stupid, falling over myself for a guy or a group of guys who don't see or appreciate me. They get rich on my desperation, and I don't wish to give them that power anymore".

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #chubby reader #monologue #dramatic #angst #comedy #jungkook x curvy reader #jungkook x plus size reader #jungkook x chubby reader #bts x curvy reader #bts x plus size reader #bts x chubby reader

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boliv-jenta · 1 year

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You Say Hate But I Think You Mean The Other Thing

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Warnings: All the feels, I don't know where this chapter came from.

Angst. Depression. Anxiety. Mourning. Drug and alcohol abuse. Vomiting. Choking. Blood. Near death experience. The ending is hopeful.

The next six weeks passed in a haze. It took three weeks of you dragging yourself through each day on autopilot before you asked for a leave of absence.

It was amazing you lasted that long with all the speculation surrounding Dave's death flying around the office.

His body was found burned beyond recognition in a his car by the docks. Some people didn't understand why he would be out there. Some drew a tenuous link between his death and the botched op. He was accused of being a traitor, killing himself for the payout for his kids, of playing both sides off each other and getting himself killed.

If you weren't so numb, you probably would have been fired for punching those gossiping assholes. It took another two days of sitting with your thoughts at home for you to finally break.

Dave was dead. You'd seen his body. Seen the dental records and DNA test results. He was gone. The ingredients for tomato soup had rotted in the fridge before you threw them out. Dave wasn't going to use them. He was gone. You loved him and he was gone. Death wasn't anything new to you. Even the death of a loved one. It had been decades since your father died but part of you still couldn't wrap your head around the fact that you would never see him again. Dave was gone, you would never see him again.

Alcohol and prescription meds dulled you in a different way now. Your stomach ached all the time from anxiety and the empty churn of your stomach acid. Your clothes were loose. Your face was pallid. You slept all day and stayed up all night. In the night it was easier to pretend Dave was just away somewhere, chasing a lead, back with his wife. The thought of his family going through this brought tears to your eyes. Sobs burst from you as hot tears streamed down your cheeks. Those poor little girls that Dave worshipped.

The day time just made you angry. People just going about their business, like your world wasn't braking apart. Like it hadn't stopped spinning the moment you got that call. They got coffee, rode the subway, went to work. They acted like everything was normal. It wasn't normal. It wasn't okay. It never would be.

The empty vodka bottle in your hand smashed on the hardwood floor. The house was in darkness. Even the ever present glow of the TV was gone. You must have slept even longer today.

"Damn it." Slipping to your knees, you began to pick up the pieces. The smaller pieces bit into the skin of your fingers, jerking in pain, you knelt on a larger piece.

In your current state the sight of blood was too much. Bile rose into your throat as you stumbled to the bathroom. With nothing but some dry toast in your stomach from yesterday, your whole body lurched as your stomach fought to empty was little was in there. When it finally forced the tiny morsel up it caught in your throat causing you to choke until your vision darkened. Your body kept trying to dispel it. Your now blood soaked knees fought for purchase on the tiled floor as you wretched. Your pulse was erratic as you fought for breath. All of this was done on instinct, you didn't have enough left in you to try to save yourself.

Death must have been pulling at you, you could have swore you could hear Dave's voice. It was only when someone pulled you up right to deliver a sharp slap between your shoulder blades you realised someone was actually there. Your mind must have convinced you it was Dave. Another blow to your back dislodged the food. Strong arms picked you up and delivered you back to bed.

It was late afternoon when you woke up. Everywhere was cleaned up, only the ache of your throat and sting of your cuts served as proof that last night happened. A sound from the kitchen drew your attention. "Dave?" You called without thinking.

"You're awake." Two soft, brown eyes appeared around the door. Though not the ones you expected.

"Ray?" You blinked at your brother, well half brother. After your mom ran off, when you were five, she had Ray. She dumped him too so you weren't raised together. His dad was a preacher. Your's was a cop. Ray was ten years younger than you. He was a good kid. You? Not so much. It was only after your father died when you were seventeen that you even knew about him. The relationship between you wasn't exactly an easy one. You just didn't have than much in common. He was a sweet, decent man. You were bound by blood and little else.

"Your work called me. They were worried." He tried to answer some of your questions before you could ask them. "I came right away. Good job I did, you were in quite a state."

It was Ray that saved you. He was probably the last person alive that would be sad if you'd have died. "Thank you, Ray."

"You're welcome." He pulled the chair over from the corner of your room before he sat with you. "Listen, I know you lost somebody but I can't imagine they'd want this for you. Look at you. When did you last eat?"

Looking anywhere but at him you shrugged. It was a long time since someone showed that much interest in your health. It was hard to accept his care. "That long, huh? Let's get you clean and fed back up. How long you been on the pills?" Ray had worked with enough users to see what was going on. "It's fine. You don't have to tell me. I'd like you to get cleaned up though. I'd like you to be around to meet you niece or nephew in about six months."

"Amerie's pregnant?" The first smile in a long time tugged at your lips. A long time ago you forgot what actual life was like, life outside of work. This is what it was made of. It felt good.

"Yeah. We've been trying a while. We were finally blessed. So you have to get your ass sober to meet them."

You wanted to scream at him, swear at him, throw him out. Dave was gone. That should be it, there shouldn't be anythjng beyond that. He wouldn't tease you or asked you for advice or kiss you or cook for you again. How could there be more life you had to live without him?

The wide smile on Ray's face and the kindness in his eyes kept you docile. You looked down at the plasters on you knee and fingers. You wouldn't be here without him. He was right, Dave wouldn't have wanted this for you. Ray stayed for the next week. He cleaned the house. Cooked food for you, nothing more complicated than pasta, but by the end of the week you were grateful for it. He was chopping up tomatoes when he cut his thumb.

"Hey, where's your first aid kit?" He called up to you room.

"I just have the one in my bathroom." You called back.

When he appeared holding a towel over his thumb and breezed past you, you moved to follow him. He was rooting in your cabinet when you caught up.

"Not there. That one." You pointed to the one under the sink.

Ray retrieved it and set to work patching up his thumb.

"You forgot where that was already?" It struck you as odd because Ray had a fantastic memory.

"What do you mean?"

"The first aid kit."

"What? You never told me where it was."

"I know but didn't you use it to patch me up? Don't tell me you had your own plasters on you like a boyscout."

"What? I didn't patch you up."

"You said about the state I was in."

"Yeah, you were on the bed muttering in your sleep. You were saying your friend's name. You must have been having a nightmare, you were crying. Your hands were already patched up though. I saw them when I pulled the covers over you once you were calm again."

The blood in your veins ran cold. Ray didn't save you. "Who did you say called you?"

"Honestly, I can't remember his name. He just said he was a concerned friend from work. He said you needed looking after. He told me where your spare key was and the alarm code."

"Where...?" You didn't have a spare key. The people you knew didn't need keys to get into your home. You knees buckled at the thoughts forming in your mind. "Whoa, whoa easy. Are you okay?" Ray helped you to sit back on your bed.

"Yeah. Low blood sugar or something. I guess."

Ray didn't believe that for a second but figured you could use a moment alone. "I'll run over to the bakery, get you something sweet."

Once the front door closed you reached for your phone. It was a stupid idea. Scrolling through your messages you found the burner number Dave used. You knew it was untraceable. You thumbs flew across the keyboard as you sent a simple message: Dave?

Coming back to your senses to tossed the phone on the bed and buried your head in your pillow. You must be going mad. Picking your phone up, you tapped to delete the message, wantung to erasing any sign of you idiocy, only to pause when you saw that someone was typing. After what felt like an age, a message popped up. Dropping the phone, you let out a scream, every emotion seemed to be contained with it at the words on the screen: Hi, Princess.

Tears clouded your vision as you typed. You started and deleted the message over and over. You needed to know if it was him. It couldn't be, couldn't it? Would he really have faked his death, he could have easily but why do that to his girls? He adored them. There were so many things to say. He beat you to the punch:

It's really me. I'm sorry. I know it's been difficult. I wanted to stay the other night and explain but if I can watch you so can they. Don't tell your brother. Don't try to contact me. Just stay safe. Your brother wants you to go stay with him. Do it.

Your mind was reeling as another message came through.

I love you.

It only stayed for a second before it was deleted along with the other message. When you tried to reply the message wouldn't send.

It just sat there on your screen: I love you too.

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #dave york x f!reader #dave york feels

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jomiddlemarch · 6 months

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So, I have the kind of job where my ongoing rewatch and excessively detailed recap of the Season 2 episode of Gilmore Girls when Rory gets her PSATs back and they are higher than Paris's and Paris is going bananas trying to figure them out was critical to my work-day ending successfully and if I do say so myself, that's pretty cool.

Also, I vented about the Lorelai/Max Medina debacle and while there wasn't a ton of agreement, there was at least acknowledgement and, I daresay, some fannish respect.

My work includes vision, dental and a 401K match. Live the dream, folks!

#gilmore girls #when a rewatch makes all the difference #lorelai/max #still salty about it #humor #but also truth

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luimagines · 2 years

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I can see Prothestics Reader bonding more with the guys after their prothestics are discovered especially with Time, Warriors and Four.

Four would often ask if he can check on the state of Reader's prothestics and help make sure they still function properly. He would definitely be the most curious about them, like how they function etc.

Warriors would be because he seen the grievous injuries many can sustain from war and how they some have difficulty trying to live with it. Reader's tenacity to survive alongside striving with such a change... It's quite inspiring. Also the idea of prothestics would help a lot of people that suffered from the War of Eras get some semblance of their lives back.

As for Time, it's how both overcame the difficulties that came with their own unique losses. His being how to adjust with impaired vision and Reader's physical struggles such as walking and eating. Time would definitely be surprised yet interested to hear about prosthetic eyes or color contact lenses.

Also Reader being a little shit in public with their prothestics. They keep themselves covered up but partly with the purpose of trolling people. If some stranger annoyingly flirts them and asked for Reader to let them see their face... The bloke goes running for the hill's as Reader cackles at their reaction.

God- that's such a valid point. That didn't even occur to me at a first glance.

You know that post that went around about a girl that got cat called after she had dental surgery so she just looks at the guy and opens her mouth and a bunch of blood falls out?

Not that exactly, but Reader just using their prosthetics to their advantage is the best thing in existence.

#pinky replies

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primordialpaper · 6 months

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Fairy Tail Avengers AU Random WIPs and Snippets, #5

At the sound of a throat being cleared, all eyes turned to find Wendy standing in the doorway. The Sokovian girl looked marginally better than she had a few hours prior; her various minor injuries bandaged, and her eyes a light hazel instead of gleaming red. What was more, the jacket of Erza's she had been wearing was tucked beneath her arm.

Slowly, as if conscious of the weight of the stares, she crossed over the room to the redhead, before holding out the appropriated article of clothing.

“Thank you for the loan.” she murmured, voice even and rehearsed.

Wordlessly, Erza accepted the jacket, looking incredibly confused. Before she could voice that bewilderment, however, Wendy took a deep breath, as if steeling herself.

“Captain Dragneel,” she turned to face Natsu, her expression solemn. “I am ready to be transferred to the authorities now. I’ll go quietly.”

Natsu's brows stitched together, giving her a look of equal parts confusion and worry.

“Marvell,” he began, before adjusting to, “Wendy… what are you talking about?”

Wendy’s eyes fell to her ring adorned hands, clasped together as if in contrition.

“All of this… I’m to blame for everything that’s happened.” she declared, voice barely a whisper. “I caused this. I deserve to pay for it.”

“That’s funny,” Sting suddenly remarked, putting on a mask of pensiveness as he began to pace from across the table. “because I don’t recall seeing you there when I built Ultron. Erza? Gray?” he spared them a befuddled glance. “Did you notice a blue-haired little girl around the tower?”

“You only created Ultron because of the vision I gave you.” Wendy insisted, fixing Sting with a look of confused irritation. “If I hadn’t-”

“Right, right,” Sting interrupted. “And we’ll definitely be having a talk about the time you spent in my head. However, there’s a reason I created Ultron- experimented with the scepter- in secret. I knew no one would be keen on taking that risk. Your little jaunt through my psyche might’ve given me the motivation, but the idea began with me. All you did was speed things up a bit.”

Wendy appeared flabbergasted. “I- I was part of Hydra-”

“Who tricked you, and used you for their own ends.” Erza informed her. “You joined them because they made you think they would change things for the better.” she managed to lock eyes with the girl, sympathetic brown against frightened hazel. “Trust me, just because they made you, it doesn’t mean they own you.”

“Besides,” Gray called from his place leaning back on the couch. A half grin crossed his face. “I told you, once you walked out that door, you were an Avenger. Don’t go backing out on us now.”

“As founder, I can assure you, the benefits are worth it.” Sting preened. “Health care, dental, we’ll even handle your immigration to Fiore!”

Wendy gazed, wide eyed, at the other occupants of the room. “I don’t understand…” she murmured faintly. “Why… why give me a second chance?”

“Because you earned it.” Natsu informed her. “No one in this room is without mistakes, or regrets. But we’ve all decided that any time spent dwelling on those mistakes is time wasted. Instead, we’d work together, to do what none of us could do alone, and try to actually fix things in this world. You made some bad decisions, but in the end, you chose to defend the world. That makes you an Avenger, if you choose to accept.”

“I do!” Wendy blurted suddenly, eyes wide and shining. “I accept! It’s what Mest-”

Her voice shook slightly at the name, and she paused. Then, she raised her head to gaze at Natsu head on, eyes glinting with resolve. “It’s what Mest would have wanted.”

Face pulling in a somber smile, Natsu reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Then let’s make him proud.” he proposed, to which Wendy nodded, a hint of a smile ghosting across her face. The group sat in silence for a moment, before Sting pulled up a holographic screen and keyboard.

“I hate to interrupt this touching scene,” he professed blithely, fingers flying across the screen at light speed. “but I have approximately three hours to institute a new Eucliffe Foundation scholarship visa program to award to our ‘exceptionally skilled, impoverished youth’ here-” he winked at Wendy. “and get cracking on a new suit design…” his face became contemplative as he cast her an appraising look, no doubt already envisioning several possibilities for the girl’s uniform. “How do you feel about corsets?”

#fairy tail #wendy marvell #erza scarlet #natsu dragneel #gray fullbuster #sting eucliffe #FT+MCU AU #my writing #primordial post

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ask-narratordoe · 1 year

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Starlet's Aside

Chapter 6: Act Two [Word Count: 739]

Both girls’ doors were wide open, allowing Star to shove her way directly into Doe’s room, completely disregarding the filly. Check the bookshelf. Check the toybox. Check the bed. Check under the bed. Check the closet. Get out.

“Star..?” Bookshelf, toybox, bed, under, closet, out. “Star, what are you doing?” Doe inquired with a sniffle. “Have you seen my-”

“Dad has it,” Star cut her off, rummaging over the bookshelf, “I’m looking for something.”

“...oh.” Doe hung her head low as Star moved on to her toybox. The dice had to be there somewhere! “Can you...” Doe began, “can you help me pick up, please? I don’t want Mom to see, and... You know...”

“Nonono, not now,” her sister dismissed, continuing to the bed.

Doe whimpered, “Why not?”

Star replied, “I’m looking... this is super-duper important, I have a time limit.” She moved on to the closet.

“But I really need your help!” she pleaded. Star disregarded her.

“This is your fault anyways, kid,” she called. “Pick it up alone.”

“But Star-!” Penn’s mother entered, interrupting the fight. “What is going on here, girls?!” A scream, some magic, and Star’s consciousness faded again.

Back in her room. Tally eight, second floor bedrooms searched. Onto the guest bathroom. And after that, downstairs. The search was taking forever.

Star ran off towards the bathroom, Doe calling out for her. She could only reply, “Emergency!” Bathtub: just a few stray feathers. But... red feathers. The stress of this scavenger hunt must be getting to her. Toilet: Just normal water. Under the sink: Red and black towels, extra soap, water pipes, hair supplies. Sink/counter: a couple of poker chips? This ghost demon stallion thing must be messing with her at this point, this is getting ridiculous. Medicine cabinet: toothbrushes, toothpaste, dental floss- dice! Wait. No. Wrong dice, these ones were red. Come on! With the bathroom done, though, she had time to glance over the staircase.

The pegasus rushed out of the door, trotting up and down the steps, eyes peeled for a black dice. Looked clear. Luckily, the top floor was done, so she could check the first floor. Before she could even walk back down, vines burst from Doe’s room. She was enveloped in blackness, again. Next cycle.

Star woke up. This was getting old. The screen showed nine tally marks, meaning this was lucky attempt number ten. She flew down to the bottom floor, nearly crashing into a chandelier, frantically searching around. Was it just her, or was the room getting fuzzier?

“Star!” Penn chastised from the kitchen. “Hooves on the ground. You’ll break the house or break yourself.” Oh, Star certainly didn’t miss that phrase. With a sassy flip of her ponytail, she gracefully dropped to the ground. “That’s better,” her mother commented. The fuzziness was starting to eat at her brain; time was of the essence.

Tally ten... not in the living room.

Tally eleven... not in the kitchen.

Tally twelve... not in the mudroom or washing room.

Tally thirteen... not in the toilet room or second bathroom.

Every time she checked a room, she got faster at searching. The blurring of her vision, static filling her ears, and random board game items appearing certainly hindered her, but she was managing. Via process of elimination, this meant the dice could only be in one location: her parents’ bedroom. She hadn’t lost consciousness yet on the thirteenth attempt. She could take a glance inside! And glance inside the pegasus did. Her dad was pulling Doe’s novel out of his bedside table, until he noticed her peeking at him from his own bathroom. Star needed to get him out of there.

“Dad!” Star exclaimed. Holding the book close to him, Cedric responded, “Hey, starshine. Everything okay?” She put on her best “exasperated” face, which at that point, was no difficult task. “You should go check on Doe. Like, now. She’s throwing a fit.” Cedric paled, rushing out of the room, calling on Penn to follow him up. Star was only able to take a few strides into his room when the chaos began.

The vines had spread throughout the house at this point, and seemed to have minds of their own. They snatched at Star, grabbing onto her ponytail and attempting to pull her underneath the house. She screeched and kicked at the vines, grabbing onto anything she could, before she blacked out once more.

TRY AGAIN, fourteen tallies.

[Prologue] [<<Previous] [Next>>]

Event held by @theblindfoldedprince.

#thesixsides #vantasdicegame #starlet's aside #ask narrator doe #doe amberwood #star amberwood #writing #theblindfoldedprince #event

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gloriabomfim · 2 months

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Oh, because what every 5-year-old girl needs is a meticulously detailed outfit description. I mean, who wouldn't want Lilac's fashion sense to be dissected like it's the next big trend at Paris Fashion Week?

Let's get ready for the runway, darling Lilac. Picture this: a soft shade of light pink, because heaven forbid we clash with the surroundings. Lilac, our little fashionista, flaunts a round body that's all the rage in Charmixie couture – petite, but with just the right hint of sparkle. Those bug-like appendages? Smaller and more delicate, obviously. We can't have Lilac overshadowing the grown-ups with her bug bling.

Now, let's talk tail. Lilac's got one, because who needs balance when you've got style? And don't forget the jaw, a perfect underbite with four teeth pointing up. A smile that melts hearts, because dental aesthetics are so crucial in the world of Mixels. And what's that? A pink flower on her head? Groundbreaking.

The pièce de résistance? Lilac's eye. Wide and bright, reflecting a boundless curiosity about the world. A single eye, mind you, with a sparkling purple iris – because nothing says "fashion-forward" like a monocular vision.

Wings, darling wings. Smaller than Blossom's, because size does matter in the Charmixie fashion hierarchy. Elegant petal-like design with a gradient of pink and lavender hues. Because even Lilac's wings need a makeover.

Oh, but don't let the outfit overshadow Lilac's personality. She's not just a style icon; she's also an adventurer, a dancer, a mist magician, and a joy-spreading diva. Move over, Paris, Lilac's coming through!

#mixels #oc #lilac

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wavehq · 4 months

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enjoy limitless possibilities here in celestire islands, annabeth chase and selina beauregard ( riordanverse ), where you can start the new life you've always longed for. make sure you read the checklist, as we'll be sending the discord link through ims! enjoy your new dream, bee and lily!

( riordanverse ( percy jackson & the olympians ). madison bailey, she/her, cis woman. ) ——- hey, is that ( annabeth chase ) hanging around ( celestire museum )? i wonder what life is like for them, balancing working as a ( twenty two ) year old ( architecture student ) and ( waitress )? they’re notorious for being ( intelligent ) yet ( stubborn ), and i always seem to hear ( top of my school ) by ( katherine lynn-rose ) playing whenever they walk past. they’re known around the islands for ( getting into arguments when she was being incredibly prideful ), and they’re associated with ( scattered books and paper left on a table, hiding just how emotional she truly is, a piercing glare causing shivers down most people's backs, standing up for what is right ). last we spoke, they were telling me about a vision they had… something about their biggest regret being ( refusing to believe that her protector was no longer good ), but it must have just been a bad dream. // — [ bee, 26, pst, she/her. ]

( riordanverse ( percy jackson ). sofia bryant, she/her, cis woman. ) ——- hey, is that ( silena beauregard ) hanging around ( lunalia animal shelter )? i wonder what life is like for them, balancing working as a ( twenty six ) year old ( dental hygienist ) and ( horseback riding )? they’re notorious for being ( kind ) yet ( timid ), and i always seem to hear ( october passed me by ) by ( girl in red ) playing whenever they walk past. they’re known around the islands for ( being a retired equestrian champion ), and they’re associated with ( shy beauty, clenched teeth sacrifices, a connection to the roses ). last we spoke, they were telling me about a vision they had… something about their biggest regret being ( ||betraying camp half blood|| ), but it must have just been a bad dream. // — [ lilypad!! ]

#multifandom rp #discord rp #appless rp #riordanverse rp #pjo rp #whq.accept

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themovieblogonline · 1 year

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"Caterpillar" Is Outstanding Documentary at SXSW 2023

"Caterpillar" was a fascinating documentary at SXSW about a new YouTube fad, changing one’s eye color, which is done, surgically, in India. It sounded very dicey, and, as it turns out, it is. Endlessly struggling to feel seen, David becomes infatuated with a mysterious company’s promise to transform people’s lives by permanently changing the color of their eyes. After traveling to India to get the controversial procedure, he begins to question if this artificial beauty will give him the fulfillment he truly seeks. The documentary, written and directed by Liza Mandelup of the Parts & Labor film enterprise, followed the journey of Raymond David Taylor of Miami as he set off for India to have his brown eyes turned into a color described as “frost.” It seems that there is a thriving cosmetic industry in Cairo, Mexico, Panama, and India and, of course, the recent deaths of two American citizens in Matamoros, Mexico, was a trip for cosmetic surgery. A friend of mine flew to Costa Rica for dental work, so I’m surprised I had not heard of this latest fad, but I don’t spend a lot of time watching videos on YouTube. David had a very rough childhood, even getting kicked out of the house while young, at one point, he (and most of the other patients) seem to think that “Changing me will change my outlook on life.” As David says, “If I feel sad one more day, I don’t know if I’m going to make it.” He doesn’t have the money for the surgery. Still, a well-written letter explaining his desire for the implants brings an offer from BrightOcular to come to have the cosmetic procedure for free if he will let the company use his story and photos for advertising purposes. We then meet others on this medically unregulated journey, including Izzy, a woman from New Delhi, a young man from Japan, a male underwear model, and a beautiful girl from Jamaica, but the focus is on David, which the filmmaker/writer Liza Mandelup explained was her attempt to initially start out with three main characters and trace their journeys, with one character emerging as central to the story. She described this riveting film journey into eye surgery this way: “I wanted to visually convey it. I wanted to do something that people wouldn’t think was cinematic, but make it cinematic. It became an emotional journey. David allowed me to make the film that I was craving.” In the course of the journey, we meet David’s mother, who also suffered a rough, abusive life, but tried her best as a young single mother to care for her children on wages of $2.35 an hour. David’s mother and David don’t agree on a lot of things. She is okay with David’s being gay, but she says, “I cannot deal with that if you start cutting parts of your body off and adding stuff.” She adds that she thought he was a great female impersonator. Mom’s point of view is, “You’re stubborn. You don’t listen.” And, she adds, “You’re never satisfied with the way you look.” Others in Caterpillar describe the cosmetic procedure as “a bandaid to the past.” Most of the others have selected jade green as the color their brown eyes will be after surgery. It is a big blow to David when they do three surgeries simultaneously and he is given jade green by mistake, rather than frost, which will mean another eye surgery to fix. All of the prospective patients seem to want to transform into someone else, an ideal they have created in their heads. If you are thinking, “This can’t be safe,” you’re right. It is only about four months post-surgery that David describes undergoing the procedure as “the worst mistake of my life.” Some patients, we learn, who did not heed the United States ophthalmologists warning about the damage the implants are doing to their eyes ended up partially blind after a number of years. One former patient whom David tracks down after he begins encountering headaches and blurry vision said that he woke up after 5 years with blood on his cornea. “I had to remove them or go blind.” The unfettered access to the surgery and the patients seems quite unusual until we learn that the leadership of BrightOcular is very circumspect. No one ever comes forward to represent that entity or another such provider called Spectra. These agencies exist and are offering this service and heavily advertising how it will “change your life” on social media, with pictures of patients like David. David bought into it with words like, “This is my new beginning. I’m changing,” or “Beauty matters. Beauty gets you through the door. Musical selections like “Stand By Me” and “I Want to Dance With Somebody,” selected by Music Supervisor Melissa Chapman, merge with the early upbeat theme seamlessly and add much to the extremely well-done production. Afterward, writer/director Liza Mandelup and David, the chief subject, answered questions about the origin of Caterpillar and its aftermath. Liza said she had been doing research on the apps that can change one’s appearance when she learned of this eye surgery and sent the BrightOcular company an e-mail asking if she could do a documentary about the process. She remarked that the company received her request very positively, but no one from the company ever emerged to guide her or supervise the process, which includes some gruesome close-up shots of the patients being operated on. She cautions that David was one of the few patients who listened to the warnings from U.S. eye doctors and had his implants removed fairly quickly. Other patients have faced the need for cornea transplants; some have gone blind because they refuse to give up the implants. Among the best compliments of the terrific job the filmmaker did with this riveting documentary was a woman who stood up in the back during the Q&A and said, in heavily accented English, “You mean this was a documentary? I thought it was a movie.” Read the full article

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pasmy · 1 year

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2022 Browns Vs Bills Game Day Poster shirt

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2022 Browns Vs Bills Game Day Poster shirt

I had a run-in with a 2022 Browns Vs Bills Game Day Poster shirt at school just like Ralphie with Scut Farkus. My mom would pick us up at school. Mom was young and attractive like a movie star. This guy kept teasing me saying, “Hey RJ, how’s your sexy mom, woo hoo, so sexy.” I ignored him as long as I could. One day I snapped and ran toward him and knocked him down. I stood over him, grabbed the front of his jacket and kept lifting then batting his head against the ground. He never did it again. I had my pals I hung around with just like Ralphie. Earl, Pete, Rosie (Raymond) Jerry and Ernie. We were inseparable, all in the same class. Like Ralphie, I too had bitten into a bar of Lifebuoy soap, and it was the worst tasting soap. If my Irish, Catholic mom heard my sisters or I swear when we were little, that’s what would happen. We were never hit but we did get groundings and tasted soap. The girls especially were repeat soap tasters.

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tallmantall · 2 years

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#JamesDonaldson On #MentalHealth – #MentalHealth Needs To Become — And Remain — A Priority

EDITORIALS While most people are still focused on the death toll and physical health issues created by the #COVID-19 #pandemic, fewer are thinking about the #mentalhealthissues that are taking a toll on all of us. #James Donaldson notes: Welcome to the “next chapter” of my life… being a voice and an advocate for #mentalhealthawarenessandsuicideprevention, especially pertaining to our younger generation of students and student-athletes. Getting men to speak up and reach out for help and assistance is one of my passions. Us men need to not suffer in silence or drown our sorrows in alcohol, hang out at bars and strip joints, or get involved with drug use. Having gone through a recent bout of #depression and #suicidalthoughts myself, I realize now, that I can make a huge difference in the lives of so many by sharing my story, and by sharing various resources I come across as I work in this space. #http://bit.ly/JamesMentalHealthArticle Order your copy of James Donaldson's latest book, #CelebratingYourGiftofLife: From The Verge of Suicide to a Life of Purpose and Joy #Mentalhealthissues are a burden for everyone — including our children. According to a report in Stateline, the federal #CentersforDiseaseControlandPrevention says emergency room visits for #suicideattempts in #teens jumped 31% in 2020 compared to 2019. In February and March 2021, ER visits for #suicideattempts were 51% higher in #girls 12-17 compared to 2019. Indeed, #teachers across the country have reported crying and disruptive #behavior in young #children and more bullying in #adolescents. And in October, the American Academy of Pediatrics, the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry and the Children’s Hospital Association declared the decline of #mentalhealth in #children and #adolescents since the #pandemic started a national emergency. “Nearly every #child in the country is suffering to some degree from the psychological effects of the pandemic,” said Sharon Hoover, co-director of the National Center for School #MentalHealth. She noted that while the #pandemic may end, the #mentalhealtheffects will continue. Damage has been done to all of us. We must do what we can now to mitigate the long-term effects by investing in #mentalhealthresources. Officials and the #healthcare and insurance industries must find a way to make #mentalhealthresources more accessible to everyone. While we have made some gains in this department, there is more to be done. Destigmatization of #mentalhealthchallenges — and a reminder that #mentalhealthcare is #healthcare, every bit as important as physical, dental, vision — are essential. Lawmakers — federal, state and local — must not neglect this aspect of the #pandemic. There is no vaccine for it, and if we ignore it, it will not go away. Read the full article

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thatweeboverthereisthirsty · 3 years

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Leona x Reader: Insecurities

This was an angst/comfort story I’ve been meaning to write up for a while now. I finally finished it and am a little iffy about how the ending turned out, but I needed to get it done so I could move on to some other requests. There’s also a hint in there about a future personal headcanon prompt that I will write up when I get the chance.

Rated M because of a reference to bad language and the black market for women (it’s very brief and for the most part subtle but I’m just warning you)

Warnings: angst, language, violence, kidnapping, fem!reader, mention of sexual slavery

If you would like to know what Kahaba means you can research it online. It is swahili but it is an inappropriate word and isn’t necessary for the plot line.

The flowers swayed lightly in the breeze, spreading their natural perfume across the area. You inhaled deeply and sighed. The sun felt lovely on your face and bare shoulders.

The shirt you wore had no sleeves, only straps which criss crossed in an elegant pattern on your back. A string of beads fell across your chest and the pants you wore were thin and billowy. You had received the outfit on the morning of your second day at the castle. Despite your boyfriend's lack of royal manners, he was still the second prince of the savannah and so you were treated like royalty as well.

Now you stood in the castle gardens all by yourself, per your request, and simply enjoyed the peacefulness of the area around you. It had been a long week filled with feasts and parties that left you utterly exhausted. It was no wonder that Leona wanted to sleep all the time. You couldn’t imagine how anyone who didn’t have the energy of an eight year old could live in such a bustling environment.

The amount of maids and guards that seemed to follow you everywhere was simply ridiculous. You were plenty capable of taking care of yourself and it wasn’t like any bad people were after you anyways. You doubted that most outsiders even knew you existed, much less the fact that you were spending the holidays in the castle. After much persuasion you had convinced them to leave you be, for at least thirty minutes in the gardens. Nothing could possibly go wrong in that amount of time. Turns out you were wrong.

A whistling sound quickly came to your attention and something whizzed past your ear. “What?” Another whistling sound drew your attention and you turned to check what could possibly be coming at you. A searing pain made itself known in your shoulder. You grabbed it quickly and yelped. Your eyes looked around for the source of your pain and landed on an arrow embedded in the ground.

Confusion and fear spread through your body as another arrow latched onto your leg. You shut your eyes in pain and cried out as your leg buckled. No, I have to run. Goddamnit instincts now is not the time to take a break. Adrenaline should have had you up and running by now but instead your body felt sluggish. It didn’t take long to figure out what had happened. As numbness spread through your shoulder and leg you fought valiantly against the sedatives which worked quickly to put you down.

The gardens blurred into a painting of abstract colors and you distantly noticed a person approaching you. “Why...sleepy...who…” Your voice slurred your words till they were nearly intangible and you felt the last sparks of fight being extinguished. Patches of black dotted your vision as you sank into the vulnerable sleep that you knew could be your demise.

-------

Bubbles. Bubbles were forming underneath you and pushing you towards the surface. It was a pleasant feeling but you couldn’t help but notice the worry that gnawed on your heart as the surface approached. You knew that above the water was where you had to go, and yet a part of you didn’t want to leave the comfortable warmth that the water provided. As the surface drew near you began to understand why you didn’t want to escape the water. A dull pain in your shoulder and leg quickly turned into a harsh sting. Your head throbbed and bright light stabbed at your eyelids in an attempt to damage the fragile pupils hidden behind them.

Finally and regrettably you were pushed through the top of the water and flung into consciousness. As if you really had needed air you started panting and coughing violently. Your throat was dry and your lungs constricted painfully every time you wheezed in another breath. After a few more minutes of hacking you realized it was probably due to the temperature in the room. Each of your fingers and toes were numb to the point where they would barely respond and unconscious shivers wracked your body.

“Ha look who woke up!” A voice echoed through the room and made you wince as your head throbbed in response to the high volume. A man in about his thirties chuckled and made his way over to you. As a first response you struggled, trying to put distance between yourself and the stranger. It didn’t work however since you were tightly tied to a chair. The man chuckled and leaned down so he could look straight into your eyes.

“You poor thing. I had originally planned on kidnapping you for ransom but it turns out that the royal family isn’t all that interested in having you back.” Your blood ran cold. No. He’s lying. Leona probably has people out looking for you at this very moment.

“I can see you trying to convince yourself that I’m bluffing. It’s truly unfortunate. I really could have used the money. However, you are attractive and young enough that I should be able to fetch a pretty penny for you on the black market.” You squirmed and flinched backwards when his hot, rank breath hit your face. You hoped he planned on using the money for dental hygiene. Not that it mattered. Leona would rescue you. After all he loved you.

“Leona will come for me. He loves me just as I love him. There’s no chance in hell that you will be allowed to get away with this!” The man stepped back at your outburst and looked surprised for a moment before breaking down into hysterical laughter.

“Oh man that is one of the best things I have ever heard,” he trembled, trying to contain himself, “I contacted your so called lover and he told me it wasn’t worth his time. Said he would rather take a nap than deal with this. Your prince has made his decision and I have made mine. You will be a fine slave, as long as we cut off that worthless tongue.”

You wrestled with the ropes harder in a desperate attempt to escape. Tears slipped down your cheeks and thoughts of hopelessness invaded your mind. Would Leona really do that to me? Of course he would. It’s all been a lie. He doesn’t love me. He’s too lazy to love anyone. That stupid lion! Mentally you shushed yourself. These thoughts were ridiculous. The man was obviously bluffing. This man is a kidnapper you can’t trust anything he says.

A ring drew your attention back to the man in front of you. He had gotten much closer and was now standing directly in front of you. The sound of a facetime call being received echoed in the dark room.

“What?” An annoyed but familiar voice came through the phone and you smiled realizing who it was. It would all be over soon. Leona would come for you and you would be safe.

“Good afternoon your majesty,” a growl reverberated through the device, “I am giving you one last chance, give me what I want and you can have the girl. If not,” the man flipped open a knife and pressed against your cheek. He dragged the tip of the blade down to your lips, leaving a ribbon of crimson behind. “I’ll take her tongue and her body. Don’t you think she would make a fine kahaba, prince of the savannah?”

A sigh came and you could almost imagine your boyfriend rolling his eyes. You nodded to yourself to try and reassure yourself that he would come for you no matter what. “For the last time she’s expendable. Do what you wish but don’t call me again. I have a date with my bed.”

The beep of the call ending cut through the tension in the air and confirmed the man's claims. Dread and hopelessness bubbled up in your stomach and filled you with horror. He really never loved you. The realization numbed your cheek and the rope burns on your skin. Leona’s words repeated themselves in your head.

Distantly you registered your kidnapper reaching for you. There was hardly any response when he roughly grabbed your chin and forced your lips apart. Two dry and bitter tasting fingers yanked your tongue forward and you whimpered in response. The man chuckled and pulled the knife back out, although you could barely see what he was doing through your tears.

“Now stay still Kahaba, we wouldn’t want to further damage that pretty face of yours now would we.” The man raised his hand and you squeezed your eyes shut as a stinging sensation hit your tongue.

----------

Startled, you opened your eyes and instinctively reached up to feel your tongue. The muscle was still intact although you did taste blood in your mouth. Feeling around your mouth, you realized that it wasn’t a knife that had sliced your tongue, it had been your teeth. A sigh of relief left you.

Quickly you realized that you weren’t tied to a chair and you weren’t in a damp room. You were in a large and finely decorated room. It was dark but not pitch black since moonlight and starlight filtered through the open windows. A calming breeze blew in past the beaded curtains making your skin prickle in response.

It was then that you noticed your shivering. The savannah often had pleasant weather even at night and your soft sheets and blankets had kept you comfortably warm without being overbearing. Although the days had been almost sweltering, the night was a very enjoyable temperature. Nothing to illicit shivering on the level that you were. It became apparent that you were not so much shivering, more trembling.

A nightmare. That’s all that it was. You wrapped your arms around yourself and moved out of the bed so you could get to the bathroom. The light stung your eyes but you bared it until they adjusted. Splashing cool water on your face you let your mind wander back to the contents of your dream. Soon tears slipped down your cheeks and into the porcelain sink below.

“Kahaba” The word echoed through your mind and you sobbed harder. Shaking you sunk to the floor and stifled a cry in your palm. The cold tile reflected your image and let you see how pathetic you looked. Crying over a dream. No wonder Leona didn’t love you. The cries stopped as you paused. But Leona does love me. It was all just a dream so why am I worrying. Sniffing you repeated the logic in your head as you cleaned up your face and tended to your puffy eyes. If you went to sleep like this then they would surely be red and irritated for the rest of the day.

A sigh left your lips once you had calmed down enough to feel tired. Willing yourself not to think about the nightmare you laid down and attempted to find sleep. Yet as hard as you tried, sleep would not come.

----------

Leona growled when he sensed another presence in his room. He sat up and glared into the darkness. His cat eyes quickly adjusted allowing him to spot his sister in law standing by his bed. His growls ceased and he raised a questioning eyebrow. It was unlike her to enter his room in the first place, nevermind the middle of the night.

Scenarios clouded Leona’s head as he remembered that you were staying in the palace as well. Normally if something happened he would only find out about it afterwards or if his help was needed, but if something had happened to you then naturally as your lover he would be informed immediately.

“What happened? Is everything alright? Is it y/n? Is she hurt?” Farena’s wife shushed him and held up a hand.

“Y/n is unharmed although I do believe she had a nightmare.” Leona relaxed and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was walking by on my way to bed when I picked up sounds of crying from her room.” He tensed up again. Crying? You had never mentioned having nightmares before.

“Thank you for letting me now.” He said before she left the room. He pushed his covers off despite his body telling him to lay back down. The hallway was dimly lit so it didn’t disturb his eyes while also being easy to travel. When he made it to your room he leaned his ear against the door and listened carefully. He picked up on the sounds of your breathing and noticed that they were fast and inconsistent breaths. Despite the fact that he couldn’t hear you crying he could pick up on your distress scent and your body was obviously coming down from a panicked state.

Leona carefully pushed open the door and your breathing stopped. Knowing that you had already noticed his entrance, he sighed and closed the door behind him. The prince made his way over to you and laid down on your bed behind you. The mattress dipped and shifted as your boyfriend's warmth moved closer. He wrapped his arms around your stiff form and pressed against your back, whispering a low “relax” in your ears before you finally let your tense body unravel itself.

Minutes of silence passed where the only things heard were your mixed breathing and the occasional rustle of sheets. Then Leona rolled onto his back and pulled you so your head was on top of his chest. You gasped and froze. His heartbeat thrummed in your ear and you could feel the rise and fall of his ribs with every breath.

“What was your nightmare about?” You were shocked to find out Leona knew about your nightmare, but you supposed someone could have heard you crying through the walls. For a moment you lay there quietly, trying to determine how you should explain it to him. When you felt that you had gained enough confidence, you started at the beginning of your dream and recited the events that followed.

When you got to the part where Leona decided that he didn’t need you, Leona growled and tightened his grip on you. By the time you finished you felt like crying again and you were sure your face was burning with shame. It was hard to admit weakness to anyone, let alone Leona. He probably thought that the dream was for the most part right, and that you were too weak to be an adequate mate for him.

The lion man sighed.

“Well let me start by saying that the dream you had is a load of bull,” he mentally winced at how harsh he sounded. He had never been good at this kind of stuff. “I would never let you get kidnapped. Nevermind leave you there.” his tone softened and he tilted your chin up. “Listen, I’m not good with words and things, but I do understand my feelings for you clearly, and you mean so much more to me than anything has. I would never sleep again if it meant keeping you safe.” Your eyes widened at this. “I love you. Nothing is ever going to change or get in the way of that.”

Taking a moment to process what he had said, a thought struck you.

“Leona? You don’t think I’m weak do you?” The lion stiffened then relaxed beneath you.

“Of course not my little herbivore. I believe that you are very strong in ways that other people aren’t. Even me.” You smiled and nuzzled into his chest. Your insecurities had been proven incorrect and you suddenly felt exhausted after all that worrying. Underneath you, Leona began to purr as your breathing evened out. Tomorrow he would console you further, but for now, he was happy to see you rest.

#twst wonderland #twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst leona #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #leona x mc #leona kingscholar x you #leona kingscholar x reader #savanaclaw #angst #nightmares #swahili #reference #twst x reader

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thatgoblin · 3 years

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Dirty Bird Part 1

Summary: Kit Rogers has had a crush on her best friend Carlos for years. They always flirt, Carlos more so than Kit, but it’s just fun and games with no serious intention. At least until Carlos finds Kit’s phone unlocked and open to a very specific romance book. Then all bets are off and Carlos will win this game of who will be the first to break and make a move. The others are collateral damage and wish Carlos and Kit would just bang already.

A/N: A slight AU set in present day, but instead of hunting B.O.W.s, the gang are an elite security team that handles everything from celebrities to offering an extra hand to politicians to even helping people that need the protection for court cases. Chris, Leon, Claire, Jill, Carlos, Kit, etc. all work for the company. Also I have Carlos from Brazil in this so his native language will be Portuguese.

Warnings: Smut, porn, kinky porn, bondage, edging, dirty talk, sexting, sex toys, praise kink, gun play, knife play, sexual harassment, a very tired and very done with his crew Chris Redfield.

“Hey, Kit-Kat, when’s our date?” Carlos asked, coming over to sit on the front of my desk.

“Jesus,” I hissed, jumping at his voice. “I’m going to put a collar with a bell on you.” For once he wasn’t in tactical gear and sounding like a whole troop of people marching about. I actually didn't hear him sneak up on me in his civilian boots.

“Ooo, kinky,” he chuckled as he began to pick up and pilfer through the things around my desk like he always did, careful to put them back where he got them as well.

“Uh huh, can I help you?” I asked with a sigh, looking up at him while he just gave me his usual goofy smile.

While Carlos worked on the ground in the security company we were both employed at as the actual physical security, I worked with the tech side of things. Anything computer or tech based work went through me. There was a small team under me, so it wasn’t my job to do everything. Not that I actually gave more work to the team when I was overwhelmed. I liked being busy, it made the day go by faster, but it also made it easier for Carlos to sneak up on me when he wasn’t actively doing something.

“I already asked you. When’s our date?” Carlos asked as he stood up from my desk.

“We don’t go on dates, Carlos,” I said with a snort. “Now, if you want to have a few drinks and look at girls, I’m game for that.”

“You always say that. I mean an actual date. Like you and me, a little Brazilian place in town, some camarão no leite de coco, a couple of beers, come on,” he said.

“I thought you didn’t like shrimp,” I said, looking back to my computer as I pulled up an email that came in.

“Not all the time, I like them in Brazilian dishes,” he said, moving around to perch his chin on my head. “What’s Chris yelling at you about now?”

“I swear to god, Carlos,” I huffed. “You can’t be reading my emails, with or without me, you know this.”

“Yet, I still do it,” he chuckled, his body pressed against my sitting form much like a dog wanting attention. Carlos was kind of like a local stray that loved everyone so easily. No one tried to make him leave, instead giving in to his small wants at first then suddenly he was just there all the time and everyone accepted it. That was how we met.

A few years after Chris Redfield started the S.T.A.R.S.( Security, Tactile, Assistance, Reconnaissance, Service) he had found me in a basement working for random jobs that happened to involve his company and clients. I was hacking his systems and stealing his data. The fact that he didn’t have me arrested or try to kill me was surprising. What surprised me more was that he offered me a job with quality pay and equipment. Assuring me the health, dental, and vision insurances were top tier was a good selling point for me as well.

I was so used to working on my own and over a screen or phone line, interacting with others was weird at first. Especially when meeting Carlos. He took one look at me, asked my name, and from then on called me ‘Kit-Kat’ and treated me like I was a lost puppy. There were random hugs from nowhere that he insisted on, saying that it was for my health as I hid most of the time in my office. Then I was called into the field and Carlos was my partner for my first mission. I had no experience with actually protecting people or acting as security. Even though I was only there to keep an eye on the computer of the client who was receiving death threats from an unknown source.

It wasn’t necessarily special in general, but the client was testifying against their ex who was a big name in the drug trade. The job for me was simple, screen everything and follow the bread crumb trail to the person behind everything. Well, I had found them and it wasn’t the ex. It was from a ‘nice guy’ friend of the client who wanted to be more than friends for so long and so badly it had become an obsession. He’d gone so far as to try and set up an attempted murder so he could rescue the client himself.

The plan went horribly wrong and instead of the client getting attacked, it was me. If it hadn’t been for Carlos coming in to save the day, I would not have been there at my desk for him to bother as I tried to keep up with company policy on privacy.

“Is there any other reason that you’re here? You know, other than to use me for a perch and read my work?” I asked, reaching back to dig my fingers into his side. Carlos jumped back with a grunt as he slapped at my hand.

“I already told you, I wanna take you out on a date,” Carlos said, going back to his usual spot on the side of my desk.

“And I already told you, we’re not going to date,” I said, shaking my head. Sure the guy was drop dead gorgeous and smooth with his words, but he was also like that with everyone. He always asked everyone out for a date, even Chris when the guy was stressed and needed a laugh. No one was off limits to Carlos’ charm. As much as I would love to be in a relationship with him, I doubted he’d be able to really commit. Nothing against him, but I had some. . . Needs. Carlos probably was into some tame stuff sexually, like nothing more than a blindfold for a few minutes.

I on the other hand. . . I needed a firm hand and I didn’t want sweet Carlos to think that I was a freak in a bad way. The last time I was in a relationship and tried to go that route, my girlfriend told me I was weird and needed therapy. That was nearly 3 years ago and since then I’d only had one sexual partner and he lasted a month nearly 2 years ago. I did have a dom that was my girlfriend for a few years, but then her job took them out of town for good and I didn’t want to move. It was an amicable split, but she’d left me to another dom who was. . . He wasn’t the best. Nothing abusive, just didn’t read me very well. That was only a few months before I left the scene all together and went ‘vanilla.’

I didn’t want to mess things up with Carlos. He was one of my best friends and I didn’t want things to get weird and I ended up losing him because I wasn’t fulfilled sexually. There was no doubt in my mind that he’d get me off, but I would slip into my head too easily and the relationship would suffer from that. It had taken me some time, but I figured out how I worked and what I needed from someone in a relationship. Some people needed more and some people needed less, I just happened to need more. It wasn’t one-sided though, I was willing to give the other person what they needed as well, but I always felt like I was asking too much.

Carlos was a giver for sure and I didn’t want to take too much if he didn’t have it to give. It wasn’t fair to either of us, so I held back and kept up my walls to keep us as friends. At least as friends I was never alone and we could rely on each other. It was almost like being married without romance.

“So, what are you doing Friday night then?” Carlos asked, beginning his pilfering of my desk again.

“I’m working late. Trying to get things set up for your mission come Sunday,” I said, glancing at him before taking a crystal pyramid from him as he started to poke me with the tip. “It’s a short one, but I’d rather have all the bases covered so you’re not left in a lurch in case something happens.”

“So, if I brought take out to keep you company with a few beers then that would be acceptable?” He asked.

“I suppose so, but I can’t take too many breaks,” I said, giving him a look. “How about some Indian food? I’ll order ahead and you can pick up.”

“Sounds like a plan, Kit-Kat,” he said, clicking his tongue with a wink as he stood up. “Just let me know the time.”

“Will do,” I said, giving him a salute. “Now get out of here and let me work before Chris sends an email about ‘professionalism’ and we have to have a company wide meeting about workplace ethics.”

“Those are the best meetings though,” Carlos chuckled with a wave. “See you later.”

“See ya,” I said, smiling as I shook my head at him.

Friday came quicker than I thought it would. There was suddenly more work to be done than before, a second mission being planned, which meant I was probably not going home. Carlos would at least be some sort of company at least.

Needing a break from looking at my computer screen, I pulled out my phone to read the latest erotic fiction I had found by accident. Most of the time it was boring to me, women fixing men or men falling in love so easily. There was no fun antics or shenanigans, not to mention the sex scenes were subpar.

The one I found put those to shame and made ‘Fifty Shades of Gray’ look like a teenage fanfic. It had interesting characters, mystery, intrigue, and filthy, nasty sex that I longed for.

It even had pictures.

I was a few paragraphs into a new chapter where the main character was being overwhelmed, so the love interest took her to his own private dungeon to use sensory deprivation as he tied her up with rope.

Carefully, muttering words of affirmation and comfort, Carl pushed the large, red ball gag into Katrina’s mouth. He hummed softly as she slowly relaxed as each piece of bondage was added. He slid a blindfold over her eyes before he took lengths of red rope and bound her arms behind her, braiding the rope up her arms and around her chest. Her nipples were hard, excited at the attention her whole body was receiving.

Carl made sure to bind them tightly too. Katrina’s breasts were not large, but after the rope was wound around them, they were large and lifted. Just how Carl liked them as it made it easier to tease and torture. More rope was wound around Katrina, tying her calves to her thighs as well as trailing from her chest down like a spider web, over her hips and sex to sit directly on her cl-

“What’re you reading?”

“Nothing!” I screamed, shoving my phone under folders where Carlos could see it. I didn’t hear him come in, again. “Can you stop sneaking up on me?”

“Are you watching porn? Cause if so, let me watch too,” Carlos chuckled as he set the food down on my desk.

“It’s not porn, just a book I’m reading. I was at a good part,” I said, putting my phone in my drawer.

“I can tell. I knocked and said your name, but you didn’t even look up. What’s it called? Maybe I’ll have a read,” he said, getting paper plates from the to go bags for us.

“I don’t remember. I’ll look it up later for you,” I said, relaxing a bit. He would never find out what book it was if I could help it.

“Okay, cool,” he said. “How’s work coming?”

“Well, I’m going to be here all night if Chris doesn’t stop scheduling missions last minute,” I said with a sigh. “I was hoping I’d get out by midnight, but that’s not happening.”

“Isn’t there anyone else who can help with that?” Carlos asked as he divided up the food.

“Yeah, but I like to do it myself and not have to double check work constantly. I already check my own, if someone else does it then I’ll have to double check them as well and it’s just easier to do it myself,” I said, seeing that I was able to get a rendering started. It would take half an hour so the small break and dinner wouldn’t put me behind.

“You know that Chris had a team put together for you, so you didn’t have to do this on your own, right?” Carlos said, pulling my attention away from the computer.

“I know, I know, but. . . I just have a hard time letting someone else have control over stuff. Especially if I’m the one that’s signing off on it that it’s good to go,” I said. “I mean, it’s one thing to trust you with picking out food-”

“Which you didn’t, by the way,” Carlos said with a smirk.

“But it’s another to have people's lives on the line. I won’t take chances with that,” I said, giving him a look.

“Hey, Kit-Kat,” he said, reaching over to grab my hand that was twirling a pen. “You’re the best this place has, but everyone here knows their job. That’s why they’re here. You don’t have to do this alone, the whole point of having a team is to rely on others.”

“I get that and I do hand things over, but. . .” I said, trailing off with a sigh. His hands were rough compared to mine. They were battle worn and had calluses from the hard physical labor of being a grunt. Carlos always knew how to use them though, in fights or like right then when I was slowly letting my guard down a bit. He sat quietly as he gently rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb.

“But what?” He asked softly.

“But it’s you on the mission and I cannot let anything go out that could get you hurt or worse,” I said, keeping my eyes on our hands. “I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me and my team and I didn’t catch it because I handed it off to someone else.”

“Your team needs your trust though, Kit. I trust my team,” Carlos said, pulling me over in my wheely office chair. “Look, it’s going to take more than some broken tech to get rid of me okay?” I looked up at him, seeing that goofy smile behind that wild hair.

“You’re my best friend, Carlos. I just don’t want to lose you, okay?” I said, giving a soft smile back.

“Like I could leave you in a cruel Carlos-less world,” he chuckled, pulling me in for a hug.

In the midst of the hug, we knocked over a tub of butter chicken onto me and the floor. The orange sauce soaked into my clothes as it dripped down my desk as we pushed apart quickly.

“Shit, sorry, Kit-Kat,” he said, jumping up to grab paper towels from the bathroom.

“Not your fault. We were getting emotional and this is our punishment for it,” I called after him with a laugh. Thankfully the food wasn’t too hot, but it did cover the front of my shirt and pants. I was going to have to change clothes entirely. “Hey, you get the stuff on the floor and desk, I’m gonna run to the locker room and clean up. I’m gonna have to shower to get all this off me,” I said with a sigh.

“Gotcha. As much as I love butter chicken, I don’t think that color suits you,” he said with a wink.

“I swear,” I grumbled, taking some of the paper towels from him to keep from dripping a trail of spices.

~~~~~~

Carlos let Kit walk away to get cleaned up as he took care of the floor and desk. It wasn’t too bad of a spill, it just happened to end up mostly on Kit. Finding some spray cleaner in the cabinet behind her desk, he quickly took care of the spilt food. At least they still had the curry and rice.

With the spill cleaned up, Carlos made sure the other tubs had their lids closed tightly to avoid further catastrophe. He also found himself unsure of what to do next. He didn’t want to eat without Kit, but what else was there to do? Then Carlos remembered her phone.

With a mischievous smirk, he dug it out from under the files then entered her passcode to find the book she had been reading. Was it probably not okay to do that? Yes. Was he probably going to get socked in the head by Kit if she found out? Very much yes. But when he’d arrived at her office, she had this look on her face with her mouth partially open and her pupils were blown wide as she was breathing a bit heavy. She had to have been reading something good.

For as long as he’d known Kit, she’d been pretty controlling about things as well as uptight in general. Not really in a bad way, but she could learn to relax. Carlos thought it would be nice to date her, help her open up a bit as they enjoyed each other’s company and liked being around one another a lot (they often stayed at each other’s places on the weekends after missions or just because) but each attempt at flirting or asking out failed and he couldn’t figure out why. That evening he was starting to think maybe they were just really good friends and that’s how she saw them. He would have let it be and kept the friendship, but when he started to read her book, he realized he had been going about it ALL wrong.

So that was what his Kit-Kat really wanted. Not the guy next door routine he’d relied on and thought everyone wanted. Well then, it was time to do some research and dig a bit more into this new scene he’d stumbled upon.

The mission was planned to be only a few days and had a lot of waiting around, so Carlos had planned to take time to read up on some things. The others didn’t question him about what it was, his reading picks were pretty random ranging from gunsmithing to Japanese geo-political situations to Ethiopian cooking. So when his nose was buried in a kindle in the down time, they didn’t think twice.

What Carlos found out was that there was a LOT more to the book Kit had been reading and he was starting to think he’d gone in over his head. He had to remind himself though, this was the girl he’d wanted to be with for nearly four years and he was going to do his homework and go that extra mile to impress her and woo her. Even if it meant learning about a whole subculture.

Back at home, he usually spent his first day home with Kit to come down from the adrenaline and anxiety, but the mission was a flop. They had been there for just an hour when they were told that they wouldn’t be needed after all because they ended up choosing a different security company. That was the third time in a month that had happened. Jobs were getting harder to get and keep it seemed with some other rival company called ‘Umbrella’ swooping in at the last second to steal the job. He let Kit know what had happened so he’d be home sooner. She had already said that it was okay that he wasn’t coming over, she was finally letting herself rest. So he was going to take advantage of seeing about the local BDSM scene. He’d read a lot, but needed to talk to someone who knew about it and could explain some things to him. Last thing he wanted was to come in guns blazing and scare Kit off completely.

Finding the building, he’d called ahead to make an appointment to talk to the owner of a local BDSM club. Her name was Lady Alcina Dimitrescu and she was a dom at the club as well.

Carlos wanted to be as serious as he could be about the lesson, so he dressed in his best jeans and a button up that was clean. He didn’t really have much in the way of dress clothing save for a suit and he felt that was over kill. At the front door of the club, he found there was no sign to say what it was other than a black and gold sign marked ‘Club Gold.’ The door itself was down a few steps with a patio on either side of opaque glass windows, the wood of the door was thick and heavy, but a shiny black to match the sign.

Should he knock? Should he message that he was there? Carlos didn’t want to be rude, but he also didn’t want to be late. Checking the door, he found it unlocked. There were no people around the front so when he walked in, the place was quiet. It was the middle of the day, so a BDSM club probably wasn’t in it’s prime hours.

“Mr. Oliveira?” A woman’s voice asked. Carlos turned to see in the bar area where she stood. Dressed in a black business dress with matching patent leather heels that he was pretty sure would work as daggers, the woman smiled and waved to him. “Welcome, I’m Lady Dimitrescu,” she said as he walked over to him. Every step was confident and powerful, the click clack of her heels had ‘unf’ behind them. Her posture and movements said she was very much in control.

“Hello, uh, call me Carlos, please,” he said with a smile, holding out a hand to her.

“Of course. Welcome to ‘Club Gold,’” she said as she took his hand in a firm shake. “Usually we don’t open till 10 PM, but your email was intriguing. Usually we don’t teach directly, but because you explained your situation quite well, I’d be happy to help.”

“Thank you, really,” Carlos said. “I’m not too sure about joining a club like this, but I definitely want to make sure I have what it takes to woo my girl.”

“That’s the beauty of the scene. It’s all safe, sane, and consensual. You don’t do anything you don’t like and neither does your partner or all the participants of your scene. That’s why communication is important. You want to show this young lady that you’re interested in her, but she seems to be interested in less conventional romances, yes?” Lady Dimitrescu said.

“Yeah. I read some of the books she has and I figured that maybe I should try something else. Maybe something to suggest that I would like to try out her interests or at the least show that I’m not the guy next door that has no clue how to pick up on hints and such,” Carlos said with a soft chuckle.

“Well then, let’s begin,” Lady Dimitrescu said with a smirk. She turned on her heel, crooking her finger for him to follow her deeper into the club. Carlos eagerly followed, unaware of all that he would learn.

~~~~~~

I hadn’t seen Carlos in a few days, well properly. There had been a few run ins at the cafeteria, but he’d quickly run off with a wave because of training. It wasn’t that odd, given they had to stay in top shape. Especially with down time now, he would be training a lot more. Which meant I was free to work without him popping in to distract me. Though I really did like him dropping in once in a while. It was getting a bit lonely as I passed on a few projects to my team. I was taking some of his advice to trust my team and make less work for myself. They were excited to have decent work, so I let them have it. It meant I wasn’t as stressed and could get more important work done.

About lunch time, I had decided to head to the cafeteria for some coffee and maybe something from the lunch line. At the coffee station, I grabbed the creamer and mixed it with the steaming, dark drink in my tumbler as I heard the clomping footsteps I was used to.

“Hey there stranger,” I said, giving Carlos a smile. He was in his work out clothes, meaning I could see how sweaty he was in his tight tee and sweatpants that hugged his ass perfectly. I would never complain about seeing that. “How’s it going?”

“Good, we’re doing drills today so I’m getting my ass handed to me by Jill,” he chuckled, leaning against the counter next to me.

“Well, you have fun with that. I stay in the office for that reason. My ass would be taken out by a rogue fly if I tried to do any of the training you guys did more than necessary,” I said with a snort.

“Oh I don’t know. I think you’d surprise yourself,” he said with a snort before pointing to my back. “Oh, your shirt’s come undone in the back.”

Clothing for the most part was pretty casual for the organization, mostly because we had to be able to move and run at a moment’s notice. So, my jeans and black top were in line with policy. The one I had on was over a gray tank top. It gave me long sleeves while winding around my chest to tie in the back. I usually had a lab coat on when in my office or working with my team, but it was one of those days of just being easy to overheat with that one extra layer so the lab coat was off on my break.

“Crap, can you get them for me so I don’t look like an octopus trying to turn around with a spine?” I asked, knowing that it probably came undone because of my crappy tying skills. If it was in front of me, that would be a different story.

“Yeah, sure thing, Kit-Kat,” he said as he moved behind me. I was not prepared for what happened next.

Standing behind me, Carlos adjusted the straps to tighten them. Which would be fine, but he was so close as he worked his arms around me to make sure nothing was pinching or pulling. His dexterous fingers pressed the tie string down just under my breasts to almost braid it down my midsection. Carlos' breath was hot on the back of my neck and I swear he was just an inch away from pressing against me. Then the man had the audacity to tighten the string like he was lacing up a corset as he made just the lowest and softest grunt. I could not help the face I made as my eyes went wide and my cheeks got hot.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no.

“Does it feel okay?” He asked, his voice low as he stayed close.

“Mhmm,” I nodded, not trusting my voice to be steady as I felt him tie it off. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I better get some food, training is gonna start again soon. I’ll see you later,” Carlos said, stepping away and suddenly turned back into his usual goofy self. I waved back to him before looking at my coffee and questioning everything I knew.

What the hell just happened?

“Uh, Kit?” Rebecca Chambers, the head medical officer, asked as she came up to me. “You okay?”

“Who was that man and what did he do with Carlos?” I wheezed, turning to look at her as I held onto the counter to steady my suddenly shaky legs.

The surprise of Carlos suddenly becoming a very, very dominating flirt was jarring, but not in a bad way. In fact it was really nice and I think I discovered something new about myself and having clothes tied to me. Damn it.

Later in the week, I was told I had training to do. It was for field missions as well as team building. Everyone was given a partner, scientists and computer techs were paired up with field grunts and commanders. Who did I get paired up with? Carlos of course.

There was an obstacle course that we would run through, which was set up two stories high. We would help balance each other as we step up a pair of logs to a post and then go across a line while holding lengths of rope like a rope swing. We then would climb across a rope lattice to the third post to zipline to the fourth post where you and your partner had to swing across a large gap to the last post that had a wobbly rope and plank bridge.

It didn’t seem that hard, but as Carlos and I grabbed the harnesses and helmets to put on, we saw the pairs trying to work together only to fail. The teams kept falling off the obstacles or getting stuck upside down, it was a bloodbath.

“So, how are we going to make it through that?” I asked as we stood off to the side.

“You’ve been through worse, it’ll be a piece of cake for us,” Carlos said as he slipped on his harness easily. “Just don’t get stuck in your head like you tend to do and you’ll be fine.”

“Uh huh,” I said with a snort as I attempted to put my own harness on. “Jesus Christ on a bike. Carlos, help. I’m already tangled in the harness and I haven’t even left the ground.”

“Alright, keep your shorts on,” he said with a chuckle. He grabbed the waist harness and held it open for me to get my legs in the right holes before having me hold the nylon straps in place. Whatever had gotten into him before had come back because he knelt directly in front of me to tighten my harness. “That feel good?” He asked, looking up from under those damn gorgeous eyelashes with a crooked smile. His voice had gone low and I felt its rumble against parts of me that it shouldn’t have. “You need it tighter, Minha gatinha?”

“What are you doing?” I hissed. My cheeks were HOT. While a lot of the employees here didn’t speak Portuguese, I did. Was this flirting better than before? Yes. Was I enjoying it? Very much yes. Was it surprising and had me taken aback into a fluster? Jesus yes. Did I know how to process this while we were at work and in front of EVERYONE? Absolutely not.

“What? I’m just making sure my partner is prepared for the obstacle course,” he said as he tightened the straps a bit before standing up to lean in close to my ear. “Now, be a good girl and put your helmet on.”

This man was an alien and had taken over my best friend’s body because Carlos could never make me blush so hard and have me squeezing my thighs together as I tried to remember how to breathe.

“Yes, Sir,” I said, my voice breathy as I put my helmet on and clipped the straps. Of course Carlos had to adjust it, his fingers grazing over my scalding skin as he looked on like it was nothing.

“Now, let’s go win an obstacle course,” he said, putting his arm around my shoulders to lead me to where we started.

The obstacle course went well, we didn’t fall, but it did take us some time when my foot got tangled in the rope lattice. Carlos was quick though, helping me lift that foot to shake it free. He also showed mercy by being his usual self when we were up there, probably to keep me from falling off like a fainting goat.

That was only the beginning though.

Next>>>

#resident evil #fanfiction #carlos oliveira #carlos olivera x ofc #carlos olivera x oc #chris redfield #claire redfield #jill valentine #resident evil fanfiction

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det-loki · 3 years

Text

poison & wine part four

And you will destroy anyone who would try to harm her

But what happens when karma turns right around to bite you?

warnings: angst, cursing

pairing: detective loki x fem reader

word count: 3,000

A/N: I don't know why I struggled with this chapter so much but I did. I finally got it to a place that makes me happy though. Again, feedback is welcomed. Enjoy! 💕

1 2 3 ⌽ 5 6

You woke up feeling like death. Your brain was pounding against your skull, eyes sore, body aching, screaming for you to rest. You had no time to rest though. You sprawl your arm, reaching to the opposite side of the bed to hopefully find Loki but to no surprise, it was already vacant and cold. You rolled over to the bedside table, glancing at the clock, 5:46 A.M. You've got to be fucking kidding me.

You stumbled blindly into the kitchen, your feet still heavy with sleep. Every step you took, your body screamed at you to lay back down, stars floating across your vision. You found David sitting at the kitchen table in his work clothes, sitting in silence, rigid. As you walked closer, you took notice of what was in his hands. A photo album.

You almost collapsed on the spot, knees wanting to give out on you, your breath catching on your throat as you inhale sharply. Tears prick your eyes and your lip quivers as you step closer to David and the photo album.

Reaching David, you lay a shaking hand on his shoulder, not daring to peer at whatever photo he was looking at. You knew which photo album it was, the bright pink making your brain foggy, the album stood out like a sore thumb in the minimal gray of the kitchen. You knew if you saw any of the pictures you wouldn't be able to get out of bed for a month. David jumps slightly at your touch, snapping the album closed, a hand coming up to wipe away tears that had fallen down his face.

You moved from standing behind him to sit next to him, your hands finding each other as you sat down in the wooden chair, your body sighing in relief at the position.

"What are you doing, Loke?" Your voice came out as a rasp, crackling and chipping, sounding like sandpaper, disturbing the silence in the kitchen. Your voice sounded as broken as you felt.

"I needed to see her. Remember what we're fighting for. I-I was starting to lose her, her- I was starting to forget what she looked like. What kind of father is that, huh? What kind of father does that make me?" Loki's voice was rough with emotion, each word was a knife through your heart. He was the best father to your little girl, she had him wrapped around her finger since the day she was born. He was soft and tender with her, terrified of breaking her. After finding out you were pregnant, Loki went on a spiral of how he couldn't be a father, he didn’t know how. His childhood was nowhere near ideal, in and out of foster homes and juvenile detentions, his parents a figment of his imagination. He said he couldn’t be good and decent, claiming he was broken and corrupt. The first ultrasound appointment snapped him out of it, tears welled up in his eyes as the sound of your baby's heartbeat filled the room, his hand intertwined tightly with yours. There wasn’t a thing in the world he wouldn’t do for her, the line didn’t exist. You knew somewhere in that photo album there was a picture of him with a pink crown on his head as your little girl was in his arms laughing. The memory caused a fresh wave of pain to hit you.

"That makes you a grieving father who is in pain, Loki. Don't- please don't do this to yourself. She wouldn't want that for you. Or for either of us." The last thing you wanted was for David to fall down the spiraling hole of self-hatred. You could barely keep your head above water and you didn’t want him to drown with you. He deserved better.

"I know. I know. I just miss her. So fucking much, Y/N." David’s voice broke, crackling like static on a radio.

"I know." There was nothing else to say, your brain was a jumbled mess, thoughts not making sense. You knew.

"I went to her grave last week. I wasn't planning on it, I just ended up there. I'm sorry for not telling you, but it felt like something I needed to do alone. And then this fucking case, it doesn't feel real, it can't be a coincidence. It's like the universe knew." His words didn’t upset you, if anything it made you happy, he hadn’t visited her in a long time, he just wasn’t ready and you didn’t want to force him. You visited her regularly, in hopes to apologize or make things right, you didn’t know. The fact that he went made your heart warm temporarily, the cold would creep back in again eventually.

"David, I'm not mad at you for visiting our daughter. I think that's good. I just- this case is eating us alive. We have to make it out of this alive, promise me we will." You needed to hear it, your ears, and heart desperate for a lifeline. Desperate for a life to come back to after this case ended. If it ever did.

“We will. I promise you we will.” David brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it, brushing over the small black ink of a snake on your middle finger. You hoped he was right.

Hours later, you sat at your desk reading over the autopsy report of the man found in the priest’s basement. Nothing. Your phone rang loudly in front of you. It was David. You pick it up, nestling it between your ear and shoulder as you reread the report.

“Hey, I’m out here at a house on Fairmount Circle, the house the RV was parked in front of. It’s only been on the market a couple of months. I’m gonna track the owners down, see if they know anything. You got any new info on that corpse we found in the priest’s basement?”

You sighed into the phone, “No DNA, dental or fingerprint matches.”

“Nothing.” David replied in a monotonous tone, sounding fine, a stark difference than he was this morning. He was compartmentalizing, a little too well. You hated it when he did that.

“Priest is sticking to the story, too.” You had gotten report from a fellow detective who took the case, informing you about the priest’s questioning.

Loki scoffed into the phone, frustrated, “All right.”

You look up from your computer to see David walk into the station, walking to his desk opposite from yours. He sat down and immediately started typing. A few minutes pass before he looks over, eyes finding your hunched form, “Come here.”

You rose from your desk, your vision exploding with stars as you made your way over, leaving over his shoulder to read whatever he had been looking at.

The headline read: “Conyers Boy Disappears” dated August 31st, 1987. Barry Milland, age seven when he went missing from his family home.

David spoke below you, “ Let’s go.” You already knew where you were going, to contact the mother of still missing Barry.

You stood in the living room of Mrs. Milland’s home, Loki next to you as she sat in a recliner in front of a TV playing an old home video of Barry. Your fingers dug into your thigh and Loki’s hand was clamped over his mouth, the universe was playing with you, the tape that was playing was mocking the both of you, teasing you for the fact that you have done the very same thing as she was doing now, clutching onto the last good memories.

“Same person who took him took those girls. I’m sure of it.” Mrs. Milland’s voice shook with age as she spoke, eyes never leaving the screen.

The tape temporarily faltered, screen going static before returning to normal, “Wearing out the tape, I guess. I watch it every day after breakfast. It’s the only video I have of him.” She sighs before continuing, “It was before your time. 26 years ago, August 19th. I took a nap in the afternoon, and when I woke up Barry was gone. No one could ever tell me what happened to him. He was playing in the front yard, just a few feet from where they sat that RV was parked.”

God, you wanted to scream. Playing in the front yard and then gone. You were familiar with the pain and shame in her voice, you felt the very same thing every single day.

She speaks again, ripping you away from your thoughts, “What do you think that means?”

Loki raised his eyebrows, shaking his head as he looked at the carpeted ground, “I’m more interested in what you think that means.”

She shook her head, eyes still trained on the screen, “I don’t think we’ll ever know. It’s just like Barry. No one took them. Nothing happened. They’re just gone.”

You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood, fingers digging harder into the jean covered flesh of your thigh. Gone.

You and Loki sat in the car silently, digesting what you had been told by Mrs. Milland.

"Why are we doing this, David?" You weren’t referring to where you were, rather than what you were. How you got to this point in your life, why?

"What? Here?” David looked at you, confused.

"No. This. This job. This case. Is it to avenge her? Justice? Bring peace to other families like we couldn't have? I love my job, don't get me wrong, but I can't but help but question why is it this case? Why us?” You looked out the car window as you spoke, not catching David’s gaze.

"I don't know. I don't know, but we will get through this. I'm here, Y/N.” There was never a moment David wasn’t there for you, and vice-versa. You both knew each other better than you knew yourselves, able to take care of each other better than you could take care of yourself.

Loki’s phone buzzing in the cup holder made you jump, the bubble that had formed popping, David grabbing for the phone, reading whatever text he had been sent, “We might have something with the priest.”

You stood in the hallway, awaiting Detective Chemelinski to escort you to the priest’s interrogation room as David shifted his weight nervously. The fellow detective showed up, motioning for David to follow. Loki looked at you with mild panic in his eyes, silently pleading for you to follow. He didn’t want to face the priest alone. The memories would be too toxic for him to face without you. You nodded your head reassuringly, following David and Detective Chemelinski into the interrogation room Father Patrick Dunn was being held in.

Loki walked in first, you next, and Chemelinski last. You leaned against the wall as Loki greeted Dunn, “How you doin’, Father?”

“I’m...I’m- getting better.” Father Dunn avoided eye contact with everyone, eyes set on the table in front of him.

Loki sat across from him, “So Detective Chemelinski tells me that you have some specifics about the crime you claim that guy committed. The abductor.”

The priest nodded, “He was...waging a war against God.”

Loki chuckled, looking over at Chemelinski in disbelief and shaking his head, “Great. That’s great. I thought you said he had something specific.” Loki continued to shake his head, stammering at the other detective and gesturing in disbelief in front of him with his hands.

Detective Chemelinski looked at Father Dunn, “Tell him how he took the kids.” If it wasn’t for David wanting you in the room, you would have avoided the conversation, rather having the information relayed than point-blank. This was too raw, images of Loki in the boy’s home feeling like a white hot poker in your brain.

“He said...he took them in the daylight.” You swore you were going to pass out, your hands beginning to tremble at your sides. You wished you were stronger, able to do your job without feeling like you were going to die from the constant resurfacing of horrific memories of your little girl. Broad daylight. Screaming.

Why were you doing this?

The priest continued, “Sometimes...more than one child at a time.”

Loki rolled his eyes, “He said that?” The priest nodded. “-Did he say he was with anybody? He did it alone?”

“He...he said he had a family.”

Loki sighed, “That’s it?” The priest nodded again. Loki stood from the chair, shaking his head at Detective Chemelinski, “All right.” He walked to the door, tattooed hand on the handle, glaring at the detective, “Informative.” He walked out, leaving you to briefly apologize to Chemelinski before you ran to find David.

You found him in the locker room, sitting on the bench with his head in his hands.

You approached him slowly, “Hey, you okay?” It was a stupid question, of course he wasn’t okay. Neither of you were okay.

He looked up at you with tired eyes, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just needed a minute. The candlelight vigil is tonight if you wanna go.”

“I do. It’d be nice.” He nodded along with your words, you turned around and walked out of the room to give Loki sometime to himself. Sometimes silence could be healing, yet you didn’t think all of the silence in the world could heal these wounds.

You stood in front of the microwave watching your mug of coffee spin in circles. Coffee was now the main staple of your diet. It was late at the station, you and Loki being the only few still left. The temperature had dropped outside rapidly, leaving a chill in the air. Loki was outside turning the car on so it would be heating up as you poured coffee in a thermos.

You walked outside with thermos in hand, pulling your coat tighter as the wind bit through your coat. Loki was already inside the vehicle, waiting for you. You opened the passenger door, plopping down as the thermos sat at your feet.

“You sure you wanna go to this thing?” Loki asked gingerly.

“Yeah. Do you not?”

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to. If you’re not up for it we can go home. I don’t want you to push yourself.” Loki spoke softly as not to disturb the ambiance inside the vehicle.

“I’m okay, David. I promise. It’ll be nice, show our respect, it’s not like we have to stay long.”

David nodded as he put the car in gear, pulling out of the police station parking lot.

Loki pulled up to the vigil, outside of the Dover’s home. A group of people had already gathered, lighting candles, placing flowers, and teddy bears.

You and David leaned against the car, watching in sorrow. You saw Franklin Birch double over, sobbing as his family held him. Your heart broke at the sight, you wished nothing more than to bring his daughter back unharmed. Each passing day caused unease to spread further and further in your body, day four setting a new record of turmoil.

Time passed as people started to leave, the group diminishing slightly. Beside you, Loki put on a stocking cap and rubbed his hands together for warmth. He still refused to wear gloves. He abruptly pushed himself off the car, walking closer to the vigil, obviously taking notice of something you didn’t. You walked next to him slowly, unsure of what exactly he was doing. Then you saw it, a man crouched down with his coat hood up, stroking a teddy bear that had been placed, his gloved hand gliding over it in a manner that made you uncomfortable. He looked up, locking eyes with Loki, and then stood up stiffly, Loki’s eyes following every move. The man glanced at you and then turned away. Loki walked closer, trying to trail him as the man continued walking away. You had an inkling that he was going to run, so you turned around towards the car as Loki made his way through the crowd.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw David take off in a dead sprint. Fuck.

You opened the driver’s side door of the car and sat down, grabbing the radio from the console.

“Dispatch, this is 13-43, we have a police pursuit on foot, 13-40 is responding. ”

The radio crackled to life, “10-4 detective, we have patrol rolling your way.”

“10-4” You sat the radio down, now all you had to do was wait for Loki to either come back or for him to call you to come get him.

30 minutes later, Loki came into view, slightly limping. He walked up to the car as you got out of the driver’s seat, “You should have stretched.”

Loki shrugged past you, “Yeah, fuck off. Now get out of my spot.”

You chuckled slightly as you walked around the car and pulled the door open and sat in your designated spot. Loki grabbed for the radio with his non-dominant hand, “Dispatch, this is 13-40. Pursuit has ended, the offender fled. Put a BOLO out, description will be given by an officer.”

Loki sighed heavily as he put the radio down, hand coming up to rub his right shoulder, “What happened, David?”

“The fucker jumped on me from a tree. I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes, Loki could be mauled by a bear and thrown into the ocean and he would still say he was fine. He was even more stubborn than you.

You got home that night at 2 A.M., going to the station after the vigil for David to write up a media release on the guy that ran and to give a description. You tried to get David to let you look at his shoulder but he refused, claiming he was fine, even when moving it he winced slightly.

That night you slept restlessly, dreams of hospitals and antiseptic haunting you. Making you question everything.

tag list: @lexie-wayland @whew-oh-em-gee @winterlavenderskysworld @buck-this-nasty @heeyirenee @pinkpunkdynamite

#detective loki #detective loki imagine #detective loki x reader #detective loki fanfic #detective loki fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #prisoners #prisoners 2013 #fanfiction #poison and wine #hugh jackman #keller dover #jake gyllenhaal fanfic

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