#i'll probably upload this to ao3 too

[lullaebies]

Hi, I love this acc sm!

Just asking if you could do a Jaehaera lives and Daenaera marries Viserys ii au? thanks sm!!

“You can eat it still. I’ll manage, Daenaera,” Jaehaera tells her good sister. Daenaera prances around the room as if she is a lady-in-waiting still, taking the fish dish she had been eating and putting it on the balcony for the morning birds to gobble up. 

“Your words are most kind, your Grace, but your scrunched nose betrays you,” Daenaera grins as she sits back down on their tea table. They most often have their tea times at the gardens, but Jaehaera’s fatigue had not allowed them such luxury. Daenaera had combed her hair, but they both agreed she is better off remaining in her comfortable nightgown for the day. “The smell of the Strumm fish wards off Viserys, too. Regretful I must give up my defences, but I’ll manage for my Queen.”

Jaehaera lifts her teacup to her lips, a thin smile stretched upon her tired face. “Newlyweds should be sweet on each other. Should I worry you want my good brother repelled already?” 

Daenaera laughs, her pretty smile accompanied by a playful gaze. “Oh, there are no concerns there. Should he have been any sweeter, he may have not allowed me to attend my duties to you on this fine day.”

Jaehaera shakes her head with a soft chuckle. “You are going to make Viserys resent me,” she says. They’ve come a long way since their initial meeting and the accusations of her ‘bewitching Aegon’, but Jaehaera’s matching of her good brother and Daenaera bridged them true. She hopes that it won't go to waste. “Regardless, you are not my lady-in-waiting anymore. You must remember to enjoy your own bliss; you needn’t attend any duty.”

“On the contrary, your Grace. You are my good sister now, and my duties are attended from the depths of my heart,” Daenaera says as if she is speaking out a poem, smoothly, and leans forward to bring a hand over Jaehaera’s palm. “On such exciting days I couldn’t bear not to see you, Haera.”

Jaehaera smiles gently, bringing her other hand to her belly. She had been anxious when the signs had started to show. The maester Daenaera brought from Driftmark in preparation for her wedding had also been the maester that confirmed Jaehaera is with child. The Grand Maester would’ve had to tell Aegon — but she had wanted to know for herself, first. They only made headway with their own intimacy this year. The changes are coming with such haste she hasn’t managed to internalise either her fears or her excitement. 

Swift knocks are heard from behind the door. “King Aegon the Third and Prince Viserys are at the door, my Queen,” Ser Willis Fell announces. “May they enter?”

Jaehaera snorts. Ser Willis wastes no opportunities to show his allegiance. Should Aegon have stood there alone, he could not make them ask for permission, but Viserys standing outside the door means he must mind her chastity. 

“Speak of the devil,” Daenaera’s smiles from ear to ear, turning her body around to the door. 

“Daenaera,” Jaehaera exclaims softly, amused. She clears her throat to raise her voice. “Let them in, Ser Willis.”

The door opens for the two brothers. Aegon’s dark amethyst eyes fall on her tenderly, and the hand that brushes on her belly moves to her lap. She nearby told him yesterday, when he embraced her to calm sleep, but had found him lulled to sleep before she could find the courage. It is always on the tip of her tongue.

“And here I thought you’d keep me out, good-sister,” Viserys says, walking over to Daenaera in steps that seemed more reflex than thought of. “Wife,” he says, planting a full kiss on her silver locks.

“If it was up to me, she would,” Daenaera answers, giving a kiss of her own to his chin.”The council went well, I’d hope?”

“As well as you’d expect from a council all due to be swapped,” Viserys says. “They take too long to make decisions as simple as deciding what establishments to be patrons of for The Smith’s Day. The answer is in the day’s name, for heaven's sake.”

“The Smith represents all labourers, good brother,” Jaehaera chimes in, leaning back against her chair. “There is some merit in that discussion, I fear.”

Aegon drags the chair beside her to sit down. “Let him complain. We all know the true reason he does,” he says. “He has been tortured to keep a charming smile for the entirety of it. A wonder the corners of his lips are not set in it permanently, by now.”

“Should you budge a smile for once, I wouldn’t have to blind the room with mine,” Viserys says, taking his own place with his wife. “Dear sister, I implore you to have him practice his smiles. He cannot leave you to endear the realm to the crown on your own.”

“I am certain the realm will soon be overwhelmingly endeared to her and The Crown in tow. His Grace is only aid, one way or another,” Daenaera chuckles to herself. 

“Pardon?” Aegon asks, tilting his head. The goblet of wine he poured for himself is held by his chest as he stops to comment. He poured herself one, too; she had been the wine fan of them two, but alas, she cannot allow herself to drink much. “I don’t think my wife needs any assistance in these matters.”

Jaehaera smiles. A few years ago all would doubt that claim entirely, but she supposes all things are due to change. She ought to embrace this possibility and make it true; the son or the daughter that are growing in her belly deserve to be loved by the realm, as they deserve to be loved by their father.

She looks at Aegon midway his sip, at the line of his restrained lips. Jaehaera raises herself on the chair, fixing her posture, hand coming back to her belly. “Perhaps, but assistance will come anyway. The babe will be of great aid, if my husband will not.”

Aegon’s wine spritzes from his mouth like a rush of rain. It stains the teal of Viserys’s doublet and furthermore his face, to Daenaera’s great laughter. Jaehaera cracks a wide smile at the display, and especially when Aegon turns to her whole. 

“Truly?” his goblet is left aside, reaching out to her wrist. Jaehaera nods gently, letting her eyes crinkle at Aegon in hopes his will return the favour. The king does not disappoint, his face coming to her own for a swift kiss that stamps his smile on her own.

“I am all congratulations for the both of you, and the realm,” Viserys says, trying to clean off some of the wine on his doublet while Daenaera brushes away his wet fringe from his face, still struck with giggles. “But you most definitely will have to rely on your wife and child in charms, dear brother.”

Aegon shakes his head, kissing her one more time before he turns to his brother. “We will see how you will take it when such news comes to you.”

Feeling at her utmost bravery, Jaehaera hums. “My aversion to the scent of Daenaera’s beloved fish dish had been a most important indicator. Perhaps we should check if you are due alongside me, dear brother?”

“Those damn fish,” Viserys’s ears turn a shade of pink. “I take it back. My nephew or niece will have to do the work for you both.”

Daenaera kisses Viserys’s flushed cheek; soon enough his face brightens. Aegon brings a hand to Jaehaera’s stomach too. Jaehaera hopes the son or daughter within her hears the joy they already brought forward.

#this ended up so sweet and i love this request #i'll probably upload this to ao3 too #thank you so much for sending it in!! #aegon iii x jaehaera #viserys ii x daenaera #aegon iii targaryen #jaehaera targaryen #daenaera velaryon #viserys ii targaryen #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #answered #starfallsalyshightower #my fics #reqs

[getosbf]

A sneak peek into the new fic I'm writing :3

#though it wont come out for a while #i have a lot of due schoolwork #so I'll probably write at least 5 chapters before uploading #its a modern au #university setting #BUT #big twist #it also has a lot of poetic themes #but im not revealing further hehe #as usual it will be posted on ao3 and the link will be posted on tumblr too #moriarty the patriot #sherliam #IM GONNA MAKE THEM ENEMIES MEHEHEHEHEHEHE

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

Also I feel like seeing them fuck would have been 10 time less explicit then what you did there. The insect visual make it so much more crude and visceral.

yeah i know right? ive been thinking about this a lot this week because, like a couple other fanarts ive made (like the thoschei cannibalism fic and to a lesser degree maybe the thasmin smut) this video works entirely on the subtextual level? theres nothing to this except for the subtext. when vimeo asked me to rate it and then check the things that were in the video there were like four options like nudity, sex maybe, something else, and violence, and i couldnt really check any of them? i was like oh right theres actually nothing in here. same with youtube, i read the content policy guidelines and like, no there is probably no sexual content in this video according to them. but thats just because they specify explicit. and everything here is inherently implicit. we dont have doctor who sex scenes. it cant be explicit. but it feels explicit?

it's like when we talked about whether the intention makes something art but now im like, does the intention make something smut, or is it the interpretation, or is it some specific images?

if you follow guidelines of sites like youtube and vimeo you'd think it's a couple of specific images and words that make something sexual, but theyre not describing sex are they? theyre describing marketability. it'd be a mistake to take their descriptions of sexual content as saying anything at all about what sex is.

people say "tag your stuff" like thats not a maddeningly subjective endeavour. even just looking at my eternal feud with / or & when tagging thoschei. things like Major Character Death might be pretty descriptive and seemingly clear cut (though im sure theres fics where authors have struggled with that check mark too) but ratings are mostly vibes-based.

do we need to tag subtext? is that not the domain of the reader? is tagging stuff that youre leaving to interpretation not kinda ruining part of the experience of reading/viewing the thing? or do you need to tag that when it could be HarmfulTM? (i'll admit my brain is definitely infected with online discourse about HarmTM and theres parts of my thinking about this thats definitely irrational, like im not gonna psychologically scar someone with a spicy bug volcano video. but im trying to work around those thought pretzels bear with me) do we need to tag subtext if thats the entire work? saying this video contains frogs and spiders is helpful for the frog- and spiderphobic but it's also an incomplete truth. the frogs and spiders describe other things, theyre just the words im using. do i need to tag orgasm denial or dom 13 or sub master if people maybe dont even see that part until i just said it?

anyway this video would probably be allowed on youtube because youtubes policy guidelines specify only explicit sexual content and depiction of things and also doesnt seem to differentiate between fictional and nonfictional content which is weird to me. like i feel like those two things definitely need to be treated as different things? and it's maybe not great to blur those lines.

anyway im not asking you specifically all these questions, i dont even think theyre questions with one answer, im just thinking out loud

tldr what makes porn porn i guess. can porn be bugs crawling into holes if i try really hard

#sorry for writing a tedtalk you just unlocked the things ive been thinking about all week fgkjghjgh #thanks for watching the video <3 #theres also an entire branch of thoughts i have related to this about consent and fanworks #which i wont get into here bc this is already too long but that naturally i also thought about all week while making this #maybe i'll try uploading it to youtube and see what happens #nothing probably #i mostly just wanted to put it on ao3 so people dont go into it without being warned about bugs and surgery #and harm to animals idk #hearts. it's kind of intense #anyway feel free not to respond to all this if you dont have the energy tbh #im just thinking out loud and probably being very autistic about all this tbh

[asjjohnson]

you ever work on a fic near bedtime, and finally wrap up a hard scene, and then get to the next scene that you're excited to write, and next thing you know it's almost 3am and you need to get up early the next morning, and then, the next day, when it's more convenient, you just don't feel like working on the fic?

I'm tired, and awake, and I want to work on the fic, and I don't want to look at the fic.

#but I do want to finish a first chapter so I can post it. #I'll probably upload it to ff.net and AO3 and link to it. #it's probably too slow-paced a fic to post directly to tumblr

[whxre-bxby]

I think it’s okay to take plots aslong as you don’t have everything word from word, I know the very popular one is the jake sullys daughters x miles quaritch

Okay, this is based on a previous request someone made for this scenario, so here you are :)

"Forbidden But Desired"

Recom Quaritch x f. Human Y/N

(Based off a fanfiction on AO3 called "Forbidden Fruit Tastes The Sweetest")

Masterlist

Summary: (Y/N is in Spider's position) Quarithc captures you and finds out you are the daughter of the man whose memories and DNA he has. Being the only person he feels any emotions too, Miles can't help but have you to himself.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, Non-con, somnophilia, indirect incest in a way?, penetration, unprotected sex, size-difference, age-gap, use of 'daddy',

Word Count: 4383

A/N: Sorry I'm so slow with uploading. I'll finish off the current requests, then I'll see if I even re-open them. Thank you for all the kind support though, it makes me really happy that so many people enjoy reading my work. Apology up ahead if this smut seems 'half-assed', I used to be more passionate about this

The room was cold. It was something you’d never seen or been in before. Even the lab back at home was not as cold and quiet as this. You could hear your own thudding heartbeat and every breath you took. The silence scared you. 

Yesterday, the worst thing to probably ever happen to you happened. You were taken from your family. The Sully’s. When the humans left Pandora, you were left behind because you were just a toddler. Born here, you stayed here. Now, of course, it had been many many years since your biological parents had died. You found out at the age of 15 that the man responsible for this was, Miles Quaritch, was your father. But you felt nothing towards him and while hearing that definitely disturbed you, you weren’t upset by his death. In fact, you felt relieved he was gone. And you were ready to spend the rest of your life proving that you are nothing like him. Now, a few years later, the information has settled in and you’ve managed to work past it psychologically. Just because you’re related by blood does not mean you have his intentions. In fact, being related to him makes you more passionate about protecting Pandora from others like him. But as one of the few humans left on this planet, that would be difficult. You’re a ‘big girl’ now, as Jake says when he talks about your responsibilities. He trusts you fully and raised you along with his kids. They are family to you. 

But a few months back, the Sky People were sighted again and we knew they were back. Hiding was currently our only option. Perhaps they had different intentions this time?

That thought died down the second a group of Avatars found you, Lo’ak, Tuk and Kiri in the forest. They must have come from the humans because of their clothes. They spoke English too. Their Na’vi was broken and hard to understand. 

While trying to escape, you fell. You can’t remember what happened but you have vague memories of being carried by the Avatar who seemed to be leading the group. Then you woke up here, all alone. Your toes felt cold and your spine sent a shiver through you as you retreated into a corner of the room. 

The Avatar from before had come into your room a few times already. He introduced himself and you refused to talk to him. You barely even looked at him. But when he told you his Avatar had the memories of the person you hated the most: Miles Quaritch; you couldn’t help but stare up at him in disbelief. Examining his features, you were quick to realise that he really did look like your so-called father. His presence intimidated you and you didn’t know how to feel about him. He didn’t seem like a threat to you. Your instincts weren’t ringing the alarm bells. You knew he wasn’t a good person, but there seemed to be some kind of string attaching the two of you. One that you both refused to acknowledge or act on. 

Quaritch would tell himself he’s being all nice to you because he’s trying to get information out of you through manipulation. You would tell yourself that you hate him and that he’s just as bad as the human version, but somehow, deep down you asked yourself whether he could be different. 

Miles was gentle with you, restraining himself from raising his voice when he questioned you and you would stay quiet. He started to bring you your food, hoping it would help you gain trust towards him. But he hated himself for trying to train you like some dog. Compared to him, you were a tiny creature. ‘A delicate little girl’ he thought, often finding himself admiring your features. Most of them were your mothers which seemed to only draw him more to you. 

He also seemed surprised that you had grown so much. It obviously made sense because he knew that many years had passed since the war, but you were hardly the little girl he had so few memories of. You were almost a fully grown woman and he wished he could be proud of himself for it, but he knows he had no part in your life until perhaps now. 

Today, things took a big turn. You lost track of time, not knowing whether you were sleeping through the days and crying during the nights or the other way around. It had been too long since you had seen the natural daylight or felt the fresh breeze of the wind. Being inside this awful room was so still and dead, it oftentimes made you feel ill. 

You sat curled up in the same corner once more. Miles had visited you during the morning, giving you your food and water. While you slowly ate the dry food, he tried to talk to you about things that weren’t related to his mission. He was asking about you. But not because he needed it for work, but because he cared. Miles realised he cared about you on Day 3 when Ardmore had suggested to just ‘get rid’ of you because you weren’t cooperating. Not even her tortuous methods worked on you. The thought of that happening made him panic inside and he managed to persuade her to give him more time. Though he wasn’t sure exactly how much time he was getting for you, he knew he would rather disobey her orders and ‘set you free’ in the forest instead of leaving you in her hands. 

He didn’t feel like your dad and he knew very well you didn’t accept being his daughter, but there was a deep emotional connection between the two of you that neither of you have with anyone else. Miles has been left to himself since he was brought back as an Avatar. Everything had constantly been strictly professional and work-related. 

You are the only personal thing he has in his life. The one person he feels he can let his guard down in front of. The only real person he actually seems to enjoy being around. Also, the only person he misses when he’s alone and not in your room. 

This is why he was spending his evening behind the mirrored glass, watching you softly cry in your little corner. You couldn’t see him because the glass only showed your reflection but he was there and he felt guilty for leaving you in such a state. You had been showered, cleaned and fed. But you weren’t happy and he could clearly see that. Miles knows he shouldn’t care as much as he does, but he can’t help himself. Something inside him longs for you and makes him want to protect you, even if it’s against his own people. He often feels like he needs to protect you from himself. After all, he’s the reason you ended up here. He knows he’s causing you your suffering, so he tries to think of ways to reduce it.

The large automatic door opens and he steps inside. You hold your breath, glancing up at him and holding back your tears. It annoys you when others see you at your most vulnerable. You don’t like feeling small, but oddly enough you don’t seem to care about that around Miles. His presence affects you differently. Almost as if you feel safe enough to cry and relax in his presence. Something your logical mind would clearly say no to. 

He gazes down at your small figure. His sad eyes take pity on you. 

“Come with me.” he says. The words were meant to be spoken as an order, but instead, his voice grew soft and became oddly comforting. 

You stand up, not thinking twice about his words. Anything to leave this room. He seems pleased with your sudden cooperation so he leads the way, making sure you’re close by. There’s no need to handcuff you or restrict you in any other way. He can catch you in seconds if you attempt to run away. You yourself know you don’t stand a chance. 

Quaritch leads you to a secluded hallway and uses a cyber key to unlock a door. The frame fits his size so you assume it’s made for Avatars. His large blue hand pushes the door open before his eyes glance back at you, silently telling you to go inside. 

You listen, slowly walking inside and looking around once he switches the light on. It’s his room.

“I’m not gonna let them treat you like some kind of animal.” he says, clearly seeming angered at the thought of that. 

“You did..” You reply, turning around. Your English isn’t at its best because you normally speak Na’vi. But you manage. 

He seems affected by your words and his eyes lower in disappointment. 

“Not anymore.” he says, promising that to you and to himself. 

“They don’t get te’ have you anymore.” 

His words confuse you. 

“But you do?” I ask, wondering what changed in his head to make him suddenly almost hide me with him. 

He doesn’t answer that. Miles doesn’t know how to. But he knows that if anyone gets you it's him. He has a reason for you to belong to him. You are emotionally connected and he’s the one that captured you. It only makes sense. But to tell you his thoughts won’t happen. You’re too pure to be told that you’re being kept by him. Words won’t tell you, but you’ll find out soon enough anyway. Perhaps through actions. 

His room was split in two. The bedroom and what you assumed to be a bathroom. He pointed you towards the bed. You haven’t seen anything like it before but by looking at it, you could tell it’s soft, so you obeyed him and lay down. 

He watched you settle down for a few moments, noting how innocent you were. Nothing about climbing into his bed seemed wrong or even slightly uncomfortable to you. He knows it’s because you live differently than he does, but it amuses him. You lay down so willingly, almost tricking him into wanting to lay down with you. 

Quaritch managed to push his thoughts away, leaving you alone in the room as the bathroom door shut behind him. You didn’t mind anything at this point. You were just happy to not be cold and uncomfortable anymore. 

Time seemed to fly by because of how comfortable you felt, wrapped in this large blanket.

You heard the same door from before creek open and Quaritch stepped back into the room. He changed clothes or rather removed some. But seeing him without a shirt on didn’t really faze you. After all, that’s how you’ve always seen all Na’vi. But Miles had much more muscle mass. You could probably stare at his torso all day if you had the chance. The feeling confuses you because you don’t do that, ever.

He walks up to the side of the bed, peering down at you once more. The sight comforts his cold heart. You look happy which means he’s managed to help you in a way. 

You’re on the brink of falling asleep when you feel the mattress dip next to you as Quaritch lays himself down. The blanket is all around you which makes him chuckle. 

“You can’t have it all, you gotta share, princess.” he grins, looking over to you. You open your eyes and look at him, not understanding what he means. So to help you out, he pulls the blanket from you which makes you frown. An expression that amuses him further. 

“No.” you whine, trying to grab it back. 

“Don’t worry, it’s big enough for both of us, kid.” he chuckles lowly. The blanket is now on him but you’re too far away for it to reach you. 

“I want it back.” you plead, watching his eyes study you while he grins. Instead of responding with words, he lifts up a corner of the blanket and smirks at you, as if he were saying that you must lay there to get it. 

You stay still for a few moments. Your mind is loading. But Quaritch isn’t feeling that patient today. It’s his room, his rules, so he reaches for you and pulls your right against him so that your back is pressed against his chest. 

“What are you-” 

“Sleepin’ in my bed comes with terms and conditions, sweet’eart.” he replies in his gruff, sleepy voice. 

His large, heavy hands wrap around you, making it impossible for you to leave. But oddly, you don’t want to. His body warmth comforts you and you start to relax your tensed body.

Your eyes grow heavy and before you know it, you’re asleep. 

Miles feels your soft breath fan against his arm and he feels like he’s cradling a kitten. You’re so small and beautiful to him, he knows he must be careful having you around him. 

Being so close to you makes him realise how good you smell and how soft your skin and hair are. You just look so inviting, he’s having a hard time falling asleep. Instead, his heartbeat is starting to pick up speed, involuntarily riling him up. In the back of his head, he doesn’t feel wrong for handling you like this. Taking advantage of your innocence doesn’t seem that wrong to him right now. He would never hurt you, but he’s done worse than this, so it doesn’t seem to faze him. Especially when the slowly building arousal is starting to badly influence his common sense. 

You’re so close to him and you’re his. He has a right to be with you. You belong to him. Why shouldn’t he be able to explore and use what’s his?

His thoughts go wild as he starts to hesitantly imagine all the things he could do to you. You’re just laying there, so relaxed and available for him, he can’t just say no. He slowly unwraps his hands from around you, keeping his eyes trained on your body to make sure you’re still asleep. 

When you don’t move, he tells the guilty part of him that you want this. Even though he knows he’s fully taking advantage of your size and innocence, he’s too worked up to let this go. His shorts feel tight around him and his growing erection, but he doesn’t focus on that just yet. He wants to see you for you before he focuses on himself. 

They didn’t change you out of your Na’vi clothes, so most of your skin is exposed to Miles anyway. His hands move your hair to the side, exposing your back and the small strings keeping your chest piece attached. 

His heart is now racing. He can’t believe what he’s doing but he won’t stop. Not with you looking so pretty in his bed.

Quaritch props himself up on one elbow, while his free hand gently traces your body, running from your shoulder, along your side and to your hips.

He leans forward, massaging the soft flesh of your hip before pressing his lips against your warm skin. His eyes close and he inhales deeply, not being able to get enough of the way you smell. Then, Miles pulls away, kissing you up to your shoulder blade. You’re so soft he feels the urge to just grab you and sink his teeth into your flesh but luckily for you, he doesn’t. Knowing you will probably shy away if you’re awake, Miles decides to explore you further by himself so that he can take his time toying with you instead of having to hold you down and keep you quiet. 

Carefully, he slides the blanket off the both of you and sits up to properly look at you. He starts to fumble with the strings of your top, untying them and watching them loosely drape around your back. Miles’ large hand then finds your shoulder and he gently pulls you to him and turns you onto your back. He can’t wait much longer so he takes one string in between his fingertips and lifts your chest piece up, gently pulling it from your calmy sleeping body. 

He draws a deep breath to stay composed while his darkened eyes drink in your bare chest. Such a pretty young thing you are, fully on display to him and only him. 

He wants to devour you and drag his tongue and lips over every inch of your body, but he can’t risk waking you up just yet. He needs to see more before he can start touching you. 

Miles slowly moves onto his knees, sitting by your legs. You’re wearing a loincloth like all other Na’vi. Something he hated before, not liking how they imprinted their culture on you. But now, he was almost thankful you weren’t covered in human clothes from head to toe. 

He takes the material covering your crotch at the front and lifts it up to reveal that you aren’t actually bare underneath. You’re wearing something similar to panties except out of their woven fabric. Miles ignores the small beads and pattern of your loincloth and just hooks his fingertips under the sides of your waistband and slowly pulls it down your legs, teasing himself. 

Once he lays eyes on your bare cunt Miles groans, struggling to stick to his plan of just looking. He knows now that he won’t be able to just admire you. He needs you for himself. 

God, you’re just so beautiful he can’t help himself. His large hands gently wrap around your legs, parting them to fully expose your pussy to his predatory eyes. What a pretty little thing you’ve grown to be. 

You look so tasteful, Miles has to touch you. His fingers trace an outline around your pussy, watching a small shiver overcome your body in your sleep.

‘So sensitive’ he thinks, wondering whether you’ve ever done anything sexual with someone before. But judging by the way your body seems to eagerly be responding to his smallest touches, he concludes that you really are as innocent as he thought. It also means he needs to approach this with a gentle hand, not to scare or hurt you. 

His fingertip slips between your folds, gently massaging you while watching your reactions. You’re still asleep but your breathing seems to occasionally change patterns. Your warmth has Miles feeling excited to feel it around him, whether that will even end up working. He had to stretch you out for him first, knowing he could hurt you if he didn’t.

His fingertip continues to gently flick over your clit, rubbing you along your slit until he feels the flesh give in and he reaches your hole. Slowly, Miles starts to push his finger into you and a deep growl rumbles through his chest when he feels the slick start to form inside you. But you’re still so tight, which he loves but he knows he must relax your muscles to make this pleasurable for you. You're his little girl after all, he can’t have you crying in pain underneath him. 

It’s his job to care of you.

He starts to work you open for him, gently pushing two fingers into you now. Miles lowers his head closer to you, noticing that your slick has started to seep out of your tiny hole. His fingers have spread it all over your pussy until it is now glistening and shiny, making his mouth water. He must taste you, to confirm you’re really his. His mouth has to explore and experience his girl. 

He uses his tongue to pleasure you and take away the slightly uncomfortable feeling his fingers may be creating inside you. Miles’ eyes stay trained on your face as he peers up at you. You’re still asleep which amazes him. 

Once your pussy has managed to engulf his third fingers, Miles can’t wait anymore. That’ll do. He keeps your legs resting open for him while he pulls his loose pants down to his mid-thigh, finally freeing his aching erection. He knows he won’t fit all of him into you. You’re too delicate and small, but anything will do for him at this point. 

He wants to guide you through this experience because he knows you have no idea about these kinds of things. 

Seeing himself as your closest person, he feels he has the right to be your first. To take away the virginity you were born with, and lead you through this step of becoming a woman. To ‘break you in’. 

He reaches down, wrapping his hand around his shaft before pressing his tip against your heat. Miles hears you sigh in your sleep and your head turns to the other side, but your eyes stay closed.

He starts to rub himself against you, covering himself in your sweet wetness while letting his precum drizzle down onto your pussy. A shiver of excitement runs up his spine when he imagines how he’ll fill you up with his cum and permanently mark you as his. So that when he is finished with you, you’ll still be stained with his scent, making everyone who ever crosses you know that he claimed you. 

With that thought, he starts to slowly apply pressure to your hole, gently pressing his tip against it until he feels it give way and start to let him in. Once his tip is almost in, he lets go of himself and positions himself above you. Your eyebrows are furrowed and your breathing has quickened, but you don’t seem to be awake just yet, so he continues to push himself into you. 

He sharply inhales when he feels how tightly you’re squeezing him, but he can’t stop. Fuck it feels too good. His hips involuntarily buck forwards and he forces himself inside you until his tip hits your cervix. His eyes are closed in bliss, cherishing the feeling of being so close to you. 

A small whimper makes Miles open his eyes and he meets your confused eyes, slowly waking up. You rub your eye, glancing around the room before looking up at him. He can see that you have no idea what is happening yet, so he slowly withdraws his throbbing length from inside you before pushing back inside. You clench your jaw, sucking in a pained breath and gasping.

“What’s happening?” You ask, trying to sit up but Quaritch restricts you from doing so by hovering over you. He dips his head down to your neck, placing soft kisses along your warm skin. 

“Don’t worry, baby. You’re in good hands.” He whispers, starting to rhythmically move his hips against yours. Your mouth is parted in surprise. You feel him deep inside you and it‘s so unexpected, you don‘t know how to react. 

“Miles-“ you whisper in a shaky voice, not sure whether you should ask him what he’s doing, whether to stop or why you weirdly don’t hate it. 

“Shh, let me take care of you.” He whispers, nipping at your neck with his fangs while he continues to gently thrust in and out of you. 

“Daddy’s little girl” he hums into your ear. “Be good and stay still for me.”

Your small hands go up to grip his shoulders and you give him an experimental push but Miles won’t budge even a bit. So instead, you hold on to him, but you’re not sure why. 

One of his hands snakes down between your bodies and he starts to toy with your clit again, watching your confusion and pleasure mix. The stretch of him hurt you but somehow, that made it feel nice. 

“How’s that feel, sweet’eart?” He asks, continuing to massage you with his rough hands. 

Your innocent eyes find him while you try to think of an answer. 

“Good…” you whisper, wondering whether he might stop now but Miles doesn’t. 

“Mhm,” he hums, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Do you know what I’m doin’?” He asks and his voice sounds gruff. 

You shake your head ‘no’. 

“Makin’ you mine.” 

His words make you feel more excited and Miles notices this when your pussy clenches around him. A smirk appears on his face as he continues to drive himself into you. He realises your tight muscles are finally easing around him so he quickens his pace, seeming happy that your body has accepted him inside you. 

“M’ gonna fill you up, baby.” He grunts, starting to slowly lose control of his steady pace. Your stomach feels fuzzy and it makes you spread your legs further, hoping it will make the good feeling stay. It does. Miles instantly receives your invitation and starts to rut himself into you

You hum in pleasure, not feeling too bad about this. Jake was a father to you. You barely knew this man, so it didn’t seem that wrong to you. Miles however knew some part of this was wrong, but he wasn’t related to you biologically, only through memories. 

His fingers rub rough circles over your clit and you gasp before the bubble inside you bursts. Your body trembles and your muscles spasming around Miles help him over the edge and into bliss. His biceps and core muscles flex as he shoots his cum inside you, thrusting a few more times to make sure he’s stuffed you full with it as much as possible. 

Once he starts to calm down, Miles takes a little pity on your small figure. He knows he took advantage of you, but he won’t dwell on it too much now. Instead, he lays himself down next to you, rotating your body with him so that you're both lying against each other and on your sides like before. He keeps himself halfway inside you to prevent his cum from dripping out of you. You need to stay full until morning. Then at least, he can replace the last load with a fresh one. Fill you up until your womb is full of him and until you can’t walk anymore. Maybe he’ll do this to you every night, just to make sure it’s clear to you and to Jake if he meets you again, that you belong to Quaritch and no one else.

Tag List: @ken-dala @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @numarusworld @number1gal @jatwow

#avatar smut #avatar movie #avatar #quaritch imagine #miles quaritch imagine #avatar quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #quaritch x reader #quaritch x you #quaritch fanfic #colonel quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #female reader #reader insert #recom miles quaritch x reader #recom quaritch #recom smut #recoms x reader #recoms smut #smut #fanfiction #fluff #fanfic #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water #big men #avatar way of water #atwow

[laylajeffany]

Intentions are Everything  |  Chaos Universe OneShot for @fridayd13th

Summary: Wednesday and Enid (age 22) reconnect on a rainy night after routine and the season of life they are in keep them apart. WC: 4k exactly (welcome to layla's <5k challenge) Rated: T (I’m at work it would absolutely end best in sex but a Clifford the Big Red Dog stuffie is looking at me in my supply closet and I feel judged.)

Note: As I’m experimenting with some new writing rules for myself to set myself to different standards and expectations for future projects (not even fanfiction); I’m weaponizing my competence and refusing to use my available contract hours assisting others who do not have withitness and follow-through. When I’m at work and not with the children on a break per required of my union contract, I’m locking myself in my supply closet to write! I'm too efficient! Everything is done through April! However, it’s simply not the correct setting to be working on my multi-chapter work; I need at least two hours at a time for that. These one-shots have to be prompted by someone else (I can’t have stewing on the content), under 5K, and I’m not allowed to work on them at home. I'll probably upload these to AO3 once I have a few of them complete.

The prompt "Wenclair/Domestic/Chaos Universe/Rainy Day" was from @fridayd13th - thank you so much for everything you’ve done to support my writing over the last year, and all the other fanfic authors you have impacted by your sharing, comments, and kindness. Thank you! & a Black Menagerie update is in the editing phase and will be up tomorrow sometime!

X

It wasn’t supposed to rain.

And not just because she already had outdoor plans, but there hadn’t been a drop forecasted (Wednesday had been checking obsessively). If there was a way to light the sky on fire, she surely would have…only to have that flame extinguished, immediately – like her carefully structured night out.

That was dramatic. (Wasn’t she always? And to think, Enid was the one at the theater that evening.) With a silent pivot, Wednesday adjusted course without hesitating, not wanting to waste a moment, even if it included one of the heaviest sighs she’d ever released. She couldn’t be taken down by reanimated corpses of bigots, genocidal maniacs, werewolf councils, Hydes, or the weather.

Life had gotten between herself and her fiancée over the last few months, and as she managed to be surprised by a late April rain, it showed. Between her endless lectures, bookwork, and mock trials, Network meetings and Enid’s grueling six-day-a-week performance schedule that only had her off on Mondays (Wednesday’s latest day at law school, naturally), their time together that didn’t involve one of them working on something was rare and precious. After a heated argument the week before, ended by the redhead who lived in the basement unit of their townhouse, Wednesday had stormed off to New Jersey. A train ride and taxi to her family’s home had her barreling into her mother’s study wet (it had been raining then too), upset, and in the foulest of moods.

It had taken Morticia quite some time to put together the fractured pieces of information her daughter was revealing and advise the same thing that the other wise woman in her life already had; Enid and Wednesday just needed to spend meaningful time together. When all of their hours in one another’s space were domestic routines and transitional time trying to catch each other up on the latest without being part of it, they were bound to spat.

Enid had been more than a little bit upset that Wednesday’s solution to their problem was running away and had hotly asked for the night apart when Morticia said that she thought it would be more practical for Lurch to drop her off than deal with the train again. At the notion of spending the night alone in her parents’ house settled in, Wednesday had a meltdown the likes of which they hadn’t seen from her in years. Morticia had slept with her when she finally convinced her to at least lay down, likely in fear that she was going to slip into a meditation and wind up in the wrong side of the ether because of her twisted energy.

The next morning, she’d had a long and overdue chat about romance with both her parents. They spoke from the heart – it was mushy and disgusting. Their own experiences made her want to bury her head in the sand. Yet - Wednesday had desperately needed to hear it. She and Enid were a far cry from the two of them. Though she might’ve possessed some Gomez-like traits every now and again, Wednesday was her own, unique breed and would love her own way, too. But, to her chagrin, hearing their perspective did help – and it put her plan into motion.

Enid wasn’t home when Wednesday arrived – she had a matinee that afternoon and then an evening show as well. With all her focus, Wednesday tidied up their apartment not only in proper order, but also made sure she’d put Enid’s favorite sheets on the bed, started the incense she liked the best, and ordered all her prized snacks for the week when she had groceries delivered. After a long talk with the couple downstairs, about recovering from a blow-out (they were more than familiar with that topic), Wednesday also committed herself to certain actions for the week ahead.

Unfortunately – the experimental medication she was on, after the sleepless night before, forced her to fall asleep when she laid in bed, trying to write a formal apology to her fiancée – afraid of forgetting something if she just tried to speak it all. It would still be from the heart, but scripted so she made sure to make every point.

That was how Enid woke her up with sweet, gentle kisses when she’d gotten home from her show, close to eleven. She had a fresh release of tears, and Wednesday’s notebook in her hand, stroking her cheeks and promising – she was forgiven, and that she was also sorry, for how she’d responded and reacted to everything.

In her grogginess, Wednesday made a promise – that she was going to give Enid a real date; she was going to honor her with something special, not routine, not a drive-by conversation. She wanted to give her a night that Enid could treasure.

And so, with two hours until her show released that Friday, Wednesday cooked, baked, transformed the attic space and prepared the environment with all the heart and ambiance-creating ability she had.

Locating her umbrella and stepping into black Wellies, she took the pink ones by the door into her hands and a jacket when she realized the temperature dipped as well. With a black and white striped snake over her shoulders tucked into her collar to stay dry, she made the familiar trek out of their Upper West Side apartment to Midtown – a journey she used to take when she was committed to making it to Enid’s show at least once a week.

How quickly things changed when novelty wore off. She hadn’t been to the theater in at last four months, she realized – vowing to change that, too.

One metro ride and a few blocks walked in the rain later, she stood outside the theater door, grateful the rain would keep most of the obsessive, obnoxious out-of-towners from lining up for autographs. Her snake poked his head out curiously when the door opened a few times, hoping for Enid, but it was always orchestra first, Wednesday reminded Augustus softly.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long. Only three other cast members groaned at the rain before heading out themselves before Enid let out a full whine upon opening the door, then a completely delighted gasp. “Wednesday! Ohemgee, you did not have to come all the way here!”

“I didn’t want you caught in this beautiful weather without proper gear,” She said, passing Enid’s rainboots to her. She let out an excited squeak of appreciation, dipping back in and swapping her shoes, then accepting the rain jacket before positioning herself under Wednesday’s umbrella, wrapping an arm around her waist. Holding the handle and depositing a kiss to her lips, ignoring how she still had on her stage makeup and dreadful, bright red lipstick that probably transferred, Wednesday clarified, “There is an obvious change in plans from our rooftop dining experience in Brooklyn. But our evening is not ruined, simply altered.”

“Awe, well – that’s so sweet. I didn’t even know it had started to rain! I’m glad I don’t have to be super bummed out, either. Thanks for taking care of everything! Hey – how was the exam?”

“Grueling. Torture. It took me every available moment to finish. Naturally, I scored a hundred four,” Wednesday said with a little smirk as the sky emptied itself onto the city, hard raindrops rattling the waterproof covering above them as they moved to the subway station. “And the show?”

“The usual,” Enid shrugged. “Friday night crowds are notoriously off – though this one wasn’t so bad. I don’t know. It’s been almost seven months now – there’s rumblings about auditions the Crazy for You revival moving to the US, I’d for sure be auditioning for that – this role has me feeling a little...locked in. I’m not, like, over it – but I’d be up for something different.”

“Insert here a cheesy line about being crazy for you in any show you’re billed in. I also recognized on my way here – I haven’t come out to watch in so long. I’m genuinely sorry for the pacing of our time together and the inadequacies I’ve brought, Enid.”

“Oh, you do not need to apologize for that, Wednesday! This is my job, as much as it’s art. It’s not like I’m going to catch you in the courtroom on any kind of regular basis – that’d probably be sups inappropriate. Well – we know in the future that I’ll see you in the Supreme Court – but that’s like, you coming to opening night of me as a leading lady. It’s different. I don’t expect my partner at a weekly curtain call.”

“Still,” She said as they waited on the platform after taking the slippery stairs down, keeping her umbrella folded low to drip onto the already sopping tile, “I do like watching you perform. Even if this isn’t my favorite show – I’d like to see you soon. I’ll leave father and Em behind, though.”

Enid giggled. “I don’t mind their…enthusiastic reception to my stage presence,” Enid found careful words as the train arrived – packed, of course, for a Friday night on the 1 in Midtown. Finding a place to stand where they wouldn’t be absorbing too much liquid from others who’d been caught in the rainstorm unprepared, they took the short ride back uptown, making it home just as another couple was about to enter their shared foyer.

Emiliana and Josie were soaked to the bone, obviously caught in the storm, and in Emiliana’s case – thrilled about it. Josie looked a little less than enthusiastic and both Wednesday and Enid backed away when her wife tried to embrace them. “It’s their date night, too – leave them alone,” Josie warned, tugging her back by the shoulders with a sigh.

“Well, I do not think they are going to be dining on roofs, bien-aimée!” Emiliana argued, about to go in again when Josie popped the lock on the lower-level unit with a groan, wishing the girls a good night – whatever they ended up doing, before ushering Emiliana downstairs while she spoke rapidly in French about which movie she wanted to watch and why would she need a shower, she was already wet?

Unable to hide her smirk, Wednesday took off her boots, setting them on a rug while Enid popped the umbrella open to dry off (chancing her luck) and shrugged out of her coat, hanging both damp garments on a hook before locking the main door, then opening their own when they entered the kitchen.

Enid’s enhanced smell must’ve picked up right away what Wednesday had baked for her. She looked at her with a little gasp, a near twinkle in her eye. “You didn’t? You did! Oh, Wednesday!”

“Snickerdoodles are upstairs already,” She said quietly – hating the way that ridiculous word rolled off her tongue; but if they were Enid’s favorite, easy-to-prepare desert – of course. “As is everything else that I could prepare in advance, there are a few things I need to finish now. Everything you need for your favorite bath is out and ready for you.”

“Awe, not possible,” Enid said with a little pout. Wednesday crossed her arms, suspicious about that – Enid’s preferences had hardly changed since she was seventeen and they first started their innocent soaks together. “You won’t be in it!”

Almost snorting, she rolled her eyes and kissed Enid’s cheek. “I cannot be two places at once. Yet. I’m still working on that spell. Go on – I’ll meet you upstairs in thirty minutes.”

“Alright. Thank you, Wednesday.” She returned the sweet little kiss before shaking her head and planting a long one on her lips, despite the lipstick. Wednesday refused to cringe, merely returned it before Enid pulled away with a laugh, wiping the red off her with her thumb. “I frickin’ love you.” With that she winked and headed up the stairs of the narrow unit.

Putting the rest of her plan into motion, Wednesday poured her attention into finishing the meal that she’d started, heading up to the attic to light the candles with a wave of her hand to complete the ambiance she’d started to set up.

Bringing up the last of the food on a butler’s tray she’d stolen from home ages before, Wednesday glanced at the time, hearing the sound of a drain circling. Taking her place up near the small, circular window that was pattered in rain. She lifted the bow of her cello, starting to play a melody of their favorite songs.

Enid took a familiar place on the bench in front of the window, watching Wednesday with a look of love she could see out of the corner of her eye. Her snake traveled from Wednesday’s neck to Enid’s pink, loungewear covered shoulders, licking her cheek, making her smile.

Finally finishing, she stood up, taking Enid’s hands, kissing her fingers before tucking her at the low table of the attic in front of the futon. Plating her a favorite rare beef dish, Wednesday started the small record player on an entertainment unit before taking a seat beside her.

They ate with comfortable conversation flowing – Enid brought up the show she was interested in again, Wednesday asked her to describe the plot – and stared at her with hearts in her eyes as she animatedly detailed the storyline and the roles she’d want to play within it. As she stacked the dirty dishes, moving the tray to the stairs, Wednesday put the cookies on the table, then flushed a little as she began to remove materials out of a basket. Giving a shrug, she hoped that she was matching the energy the moment called for as she explained, “We were going to go to that gallery…but – I…maybe you want to make something to add to ours up here?”

She gestured to the various crafts that Enid had hung up above the futon – a few embroidery pieces she’d experimented with, paintings, collages…

Enid nodded brightly. “I’d love to make something with you.”

The next forty minutes were spent painting on a canvas, the two working together to come up with an inspired design – an interpretation of their snake in the springtime – Augustus looking at it and offering his feedback, requesting more pale pink cherry blossom petals all around him.

As they finished, Wednesday took the dirty brushes and palette along with the dishes, hurrying them down to the sink before returning with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Enid had moved to the cushions, her expression of dopy desire a bit contagious as Wednesday poured her a glass and took a seat. She indicated her own intentions by sitting as close to fiancée as possible, a stacking her legs on top of Enid’s thighs as she twisted into the corner of the couch – just a touch obnoxiously. Enid giggled before taking a sip, drawing an arm just above her knees. She pressed a kiss to Wednesday’s lips, letting out a sigh. “You probably feel like the need to reconcile was largely on you, given how you ran…but it wasn’t, Wednesday. I’ve been just as distracted, and every bit as much to blame for us not spending the time we need together, too.”

Augustus appeared from her collar again and Wednesday smiled at the snake with the gentle sort of parent-like love she’d had for him since the start. “Hey, buddy…do you think you could take yourself to your enclosure for a little while? There’ll be a pinky for you in the morning.”

He let out a small hiss and twisted down her arm, leaving the two in full privacy. Wednesday had another long drink of wine and made a hopeful suggestion. “I have two more exams next week, but then the summer term doesn’t begin until mid-May. Is there any time over the next few weeks that you’d be able to get away from the show for a few days?”

Enid laughed. “I haven’t used an understudy yet! Our swings would be thrilled – I’m sure I could take some time, for us.”

The way she said it made Wednesday chug the rest of the wine in her glass before taking Enid’s from her, sweetly, and placing both on the table. She adjusted her position, sitting fully on her lap. Enid’s arms fell around her waist, pulling her close for a kiss. Wednesday sighed into it, lazily dropping her arms around her shoulders, drawing herself closer, chests touching – even if they were just in comfortable sweatshirts – she loved the feeling. Enid let out a little sound of contentment as her tongue dipped into her mouth, pushing them even closer.

Enid pulled away with a sudden gasp – their teeth almost colliding as a bolt of lightning and crackle of thunder turned the nighttime rain shower into a thunderstorm. She giggled and groaned, sighing into Wednesday’s shoulder as Wednesday felt her heartrate skyrocket and decrease. Tangling her fingers into Enid’s hair, Wednesday just held her close, there, resting her head just on top of hers. “I love you,” She muttered quietly. “I’m really glad we spent tonight together, not just in routine, even if it wasn’t what we planned.”

“Me too,” Enid squeezed her middle, looking up with a sweet gaze. “I love you. I can’t believe how we let time get away from us. Hey – let me send a quick text to let my manager know I’m going to be out of the show – then I’m getting my laptop and my planner – we are so booking a trip for after your exams!”

Letting her go – even if she might’ve rather extended that time together physically, Wednesday figured she could get her fiancée all worked up and excited about time off together and then spend the time together in bed. Enid returned just moments later, her fingers flying across her keyboard as she gave herself a week off without asking – but expecting. Loving that for her self-confidence, Wednesday stretched out on the futon while she started to ramble excitedly, opening a glittery pink date book, actually blathering about what to fill in it. Her excited ramble went on for almost two straight minutes before she paused, mid-sentence, blushing as she glanced back at Wednesday. As she opened her mouth, Wednesday reminded her, “If you dare apologize for looking forward to spending time together…” She snapped her lips together and Wednesday smirked, putting her chin on Enid’s shoulder as she leaned over her. “There’s a full moon next week, too. We could maybe go somewhere that has a forest nearby if you’d like to wolf out. It’s been months, Enid. The Solstice was the last time…it just happened to be on a Monday, otherwise you probably would’ve taken your potion then, too.”

“You really want to spend time off chasing me through the trees?” Enid asked skeptically.

Dropping into a sit beside her, Wednesday took her hand into her own, letting her thumb rub a circle over the ring on her left. “I want to spend my time off with you. That’s all, Enid. I don’t care, particularly, what we do. I would like you to make sure you’re not disconnecting with the wolf part of you…we know the consequences of that. But if you don’t think you need to wolf out to stay connected, that’s fine, too.”

“Hm,” Enid laced the fingers that were playing with hers between them and kissed Wednesday’s cheek. “You know – we could really disconnect from the world, and only connect to each other – which always helps. Go to the Zypher property, be surrounded by mountains? We haven’t been in…what, two and a half years now?”

Liking the sound of that, Wednesday nuzzled her neck, also liking that it wouldn’t involve her traveling by plane, but the thought of being without running water and electricity for an entire week wasn’t quite what she wanted to deal with. Who would’ve thought – Wednesday Addams, a woman of the modern world?

“Or – we go to the Addams house in Jericho? We’d be able to bathe far more conveniently – but still have the woods.”

Enid chuckled into her lips with a kiss. “Fair, fair,” She spoke, pulling back. “Promise me you won’t get tangled up in a Network conspiracy while we’re there?”

With a single nod, Wednesday leaned in for another kiss. “I won’t even tell them we’re in town.”

“Well, that’s not nice. Aunt Larissa would ream you if we bumped into her at the store picking up stuff for dinner and hadn’t told her we were coming.”

“Grocery delivery,” Wednesday refuted.  Enid shot her a look. “We can have one dinner with them. One. I’m very serious. This is going to be our time, Enid. We…we need it. It’s going to be a long summer – I’m so close to done, and the last two semesters are going to be grueling. Remember, I will be hospitalized at some point because I’m going to be so in over my head and taking horrible care of myself and refusing to let you do it for me,” She sighed – wishing she’d never had that vision, years ago. “But until then – we have this time together. I want it to be meaningful – just us.” Thunder made the entire place rumble and Enid nodded, then let out a little sound of sympathy as a slithering snake hurried himself up the steps and into Wednesday’s lap, trembling. “It’s okay, buddy,” She whispered, kissing his cheek as she held him close, letting him circle back around her neck. “Well, just us and the boy.”

Enid acknowledged what she’d said before, “Meaningful. It sucks to think that a lot of the time we do have together isn’t meaningful – and I guess I didn’t really understand that until this all blew up,” She sighed. “It’s hard to think that just because you spend every night sleeping next to the love of your life, it can get routine, so fast. I hate that. I don’t want that for us.” She thumbed her planner. “Do you think – we could pen in some more date nights? This was really nice. Not just dinner because we both happen to be home…which; has been rare for us – but intentional dates. I think we need to make sure we have at least one a month? Once a week would be better – but until you’re finished with school, I think we should be a little more realistic -”

Wednesday tilted her head in a bit of good news. “Actually, we can. Every Monday. My evening course was moved to Tuesdays and Thursdays for the summer class.”

Letting out a little gasp, Enid tossed her arms around her fiancée. “That’s amazing! OhEmGee, this is perfect! Hey – how about we put our first Monday after vacation at that Brooklynn rooftop and gallery, hm? I mean, truthfully – I think I preferred this, just us doing our own thing up here -”

“Then, let’s plan to do our own thing up here,” Wednesday argued gently. “Why go out and force ourselves to do something that neither of us really want to do? Just because it’s what is expected of a couple on a date? You know I would always rather be in with you. We can make it special, so long as we intend to.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Of course. I’ve long ago learned, intentions are everything, didn’t I? I suppose I just never applied it to our long-term romance.”

Enid kissed each cheek, then the tip of her nose. “I do believe I have some intentions for how I’d like to close out this night.”

Wednesday dropped her hands to her hips. “Hm. Funny, so did I. What if our intentions don’t align?”

She gave a playful growl, then nipped her lip playfully, making Wednesday close her eyes and give a little groan. “Yeah,” Enid pulled away, “I’m pretty sure – we both want the same thing. Come on. GusGus, bedtime, buddy. This date night continues for another hour!”

“Oh, that’s all?” Wednesday teased, earning a playful push as she smirked, fully intending on making meaning out of every moment of the rest of their night together.

#fanfic #wednesday 2022 #wenclair #chaos for the fly #I'm not going to make Tracey beta these she's already working so hard so forgive my mistakes #prompt fic #this was fun #layla's >5k challenge

[bloodlustngore]

Morning Angel - Emily Prentiss

As promised and voted for the most here is the Emily Prentiss smut, listen I haven't written smut in a while so its only short and probably really crap, but you guys wanted it so here it is!

This will also be uploaded on my wattpad & Ao3 (Watppad is KissingPrentiss & Ao3 is Jemilysgirl)

Cw: cnc (ish)

The light of the sun crept through the small gap in the curtains. You stirred awake to find your girlfriend still sleeping peacefully, an arm wrapped around your waist. Smiling at her, the older brunette looked so cute when she was asleep. It was rare that you woke up before Emily.

Then you recalled last nights events, realising you were both very naked. Smirking to yourself, you had an idea that you've always wanted to try but never got the opportunity to do, because Emily was usually awake before you. Biting your lip at the idea, you carefully removed her arm from around your waist, hoping that she doesn't wake up from the slight movement.

All your girlfriend did was stir slightly in her sleep. You wasted no time in going under the duvet, your face between her thighs, hands gently wrapped around her thighs to keep her in place as you kissed along her thighs lightly, teasing her. You chuckled quietly at the fact she was already wet just from that.

You felt Emily stir again, somewhere between breathes she let out a whimper, as you licked up her slit teasing her, collecting her juices that already started drippling from her pussy.

Your girlfriend let out another whimper, along with a low moan. You removed the duvet slightly from hers and your body just enough to look up with your eyes, Emily's eyes still closed, but one of her hands started gripping the bedsheets.

Flattening your tongue against her clit then alternating between sucking and licking. You devoured her. And that's when Emily let out the loudest moan. Stirring awake even more.

"Fuck!" She moaned, your eyes met her brown eyes when she finally woke up. You felt more wetness come from Emily's pussy on your tongue, gushing into your mouth or onto your chin. Her hand fell into your h/c gripping it, holding you in place as you continued to devour her cunt.

"Oh!" She yelled out, in absolute pleasure, her head falling back into the pillows as she tried to slightly sit up, which failed.

You knew your girlfriend was close, the way her chest rises, heavy breathes. You sucked on her clit a few more times.

"Y/n!" Emily moans.

You continued, as you hear Emily's pretty sounds that she makes. God, she was so hot.

Emily practically yells between moans. As she came in your mouth, you gently licked her clit through her orgasm to make it last a bit longer, cleaning the mess you made up. The moment she pulled your head away and let out a small whimper, she was telling you she's too sensitive. You chuckled, wiping your chin that glistened with Emily's cum, with your arm. As you sat back up, Emily pulled you down, on top of her.

"Morning to you too, angel. That was by far my favourite way to wake up" Emily breathed out, still recovering from the previous orgasm. You smirked at her.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, I did too" you added. Emily smirks at you then pulls you down for a kiss, tasting herself on your lips and tongue. You moaned into the kiss when she bit your bottom lip slightly. Her tongue against yours.

"I think someone deserves a reward" Emily says as she pulls away, falling into the usual roles of her being the dominant one. She was usually the top but because you're both she liked giving you control sometimes.

"We have plenty of time for that Em, I just wanted to make you feel good. We haven't been called into work. There's a shower and breakfast calling our names. Although I quite like the breakfast I've just had" you smirked.

Emily chuckled "next time I'm waking you up like that. And who says I'll be keeping my hands off you in the shower?" She adds.

"Then by all means, let's go" you added, getting off of your girlfriend and going into the bathroom, Emily shortly following behind. As the shower run and the two of you got into it. Emily's lips were already on your neck.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader #smut #emily prentiss smut #I'm sorry if this is shit #I haven't written smut in a while

[rhoorl]

Working Title | Chapter 15

Pairing: Dieter Bravo/OFC

Rating: Mature, 18+, for the love of all things please don’t engage if you are a minor ok? 

Word Count: 5k

Series Masterlist | AO3 Chapter 15 Link

Chapter Summary: We spend our last day on set before the long weekend. Dieter has a full day of activities planned for Belle.

Chapter Warnings: This is pretty fluffy. Dieter is a bit of a menace. Squint for some possessive/jealous Dieter.

A/N: So like most things with these two, I have a general idea and outline and then I go off on a tangent. I ended up splitting Dieter's date into two parts because it was getting long (which means I'll hopefully be able to upload Ch. 16 sooner since it's written and being edited). So I hope you enjoy this first part and the cameo I slipped in because I literally cannot help myself. More notes from me at the end!

Thanks to some speedy work from room service, you and Dieter settle into bed with some snacks, ready to watch a movie. True to form, you didn't make it past the first twenty minutes. But how could you? You were tired from a long day of being on your feet, your back ached, and you were in a comfortable bed cuddled up next to Dieter who was basically a human electric blanket. Feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he played with your hair was enough to lull you to sleep.

When your eyes flutter open, you turn and feel an empty spot on the bed. It was pretty cold which means Dieter had been gone for a while. Checking your phone you see it's about 10 minutes until your alarm is set to go off anyway. You stretch and get out of bed, thinking you'd go and surprise your handsome barista, who was probably busy getting your coffee ready.

As you head down the hallway, you don't see any lights on in the kitchen. You do, however, see a light coming from the couch in the living room as you spot Dieter sitting with his back to you on his phone.

"Psst," you whisper over to him.

He turns around and smiles, getting up to come over to you. You still get butterflies seeing this man with no shirt on and a messy mop of curls at the top of his head.

"Hey, shit, sorry I didn't realize what time it was," he kisses you. "I need to get your coffee ready."

You smile as he kisses you again, his arms coming to your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

"It's hard to get good help around here," you tease.

"Is that so? Well, I only aim to please, so I better get to work," he winks as he taps your ass and heads to the kitchen.

"What were you doing up so early?" You follow him and lean against the kitchen island, trying not to salivate as you see the muscles in his back flex as he makes quick work of getting your coffee ready.

"I…um," he stops and turns to look at you, a little bashful. "I was trying to confirm some last-minute things for …um, a surprise. I know it’s your day off, but are you ok if we get an early start tomorrow? I know there's the luau tonight, but I have kind of a full day planned…."

“A full day?” you cut him off, smirking.

“Ah, yeah,” he ran his hand through his hair. “Fuck, that’s a lot, isn’t it? It’s too much, I know…” he starts to shake his head and you walk around the kitchen island and cup his face with your hands, lightly scratching his stubble with your fingernails.

“I am so flattered. You have a full day planned…just for me?” Your coy smile is enough to make Dieter’s shoulders relax. His smile reaches his eyes as he wraps his arms around you.

“Whole day, just for you,” he tilts down smiling and kissing your waiting lips. 

You rush through the rest of your morning routine, which kept getting delayed by Dieter who would pull you into a kiss every now and again. He follows you around like a little lost puppy, perching himself on the tub as you get ready and then sitting on the bed as you pick out your clothes and get dressed.

“Ok, time to get to work,” you smile.

You both slowly make your way down the hallway to Dieter’s suite, knowing you probably won’t have alone time until later tonight. You reluctantly pull away from him, giving him one last kiss before you make your way to the elevator. He’s leaned up against the wall watching you with a soft look in his eyes, like he was trying to commit your face to memory.

The morning goes by rather quickly as you and Brianna work on several principal and background actors. You’re getting ready to head to set with Sam when Dieter walks into the makeup and hair trailer

"Hey," he smiles, bringing you in for a hug and kissing the top of your head. "Hi Brianna," he waves.

“Hi, Dieter.”

“You, ah, have any plans for the long weekend?” he asks her as he rubs your lower back and you lean your head against his chest.

“Oh, um, me?” She looks at you and smiles. “Ah, probably going to go to the beach, maybe do some snorkeling. I think a few of us are gonna go ziplining or something.”

“Nice, sounds fun.”

“A-are you doing anything fun?” She winces as soon as she says it, looking at you apologetically.

“I have a few things planned,” he winks. “I’ll catch you both later, don’t wanna make you late.”

And with that, you head to set, giddy and still feeling his large hand on your back.

You had a pretty easy day on set, only a few scenes which Sam and Indy wrapped up quickly. Everyone was buzzing, excited for the evening’s festivities and the impending long weekend. Indy shot you a text to come meet her at her trailer when you finished cleaning up and packing everything away. When you arrive you give your customary three knocks and she quickly opens the door.

“Hey babe!” She ushers you in.

“Hey! You ready for tonight?”

“Yeah! Should be fun, but I’m more looking forward to the weekend,” she waggles her eyebrows. “Do you have any idea what Sam is up to?”

You shake your head, trying to not say anything although you know can read you like a book.

“B, you are a terrible fucking liar,” she laughs.

“I don’t want to ruin the surprise, but you’re going to love it and he’s super excited about it. It’s actually so freaking cute,” you smile, knocking your shoulder into hers as you open her refrigerator and grab a water. “Just make sure you pack a bag.”

“Hmm…well, he told me we’re leaving early tomorrow so I’ll pack when we get back. I’ll stay in his room tonight.”

“Oh sure, what a sacrifice,” you tease as she rolls her eyes. “But, sounds like I’m gonna need to get up early tomorrow too.” Your coy smile gives you away as Indy busts out in giggles. 

“Ohhh…early day for you tomorrow too, huh? What’s Dieter’s got planned?”

“I don’t know, he just says it’s a whole day.”

“Eeeek, Belle, he’s got it bad for you, it is so fucking cute,” she shrieks. “Need me to have Ari grab you some condoms,” she winks. “You know … for your festivities.”

“Oh my gosh, Ind,” you roll your eyes. 

Back in your suite, the two of you put some music on and get ready together in Indy’s spacious bathroom. You work on getting her ready first, throwing in some loose beach waves in her hair, and going very natural with her makeup. As she sorts through what she wants to wear and pack for her trip, you put on some light makeup, focusing on your eyes, and then slicking your hair back into a bun.

“I’m not going to tell you what you’re doing, but just pack a few swimsuits, a dress or two, and some stuff for hiking,” you finally cave after an endless litany of questions.

“I need options, B, you know that. I think I’m just gonna pack two bags and we’ll see how it goes.”

You laugh to yourself and head down the hallway to your room and slip on a sundress. You are just finishing up buckling your sandals when you hear a knock at the door and the click-clacking of Indy’s heels. You get to the hallway just as she swings open the door, revealing both Dieter and Sam. 

Sam is dressed in black pants with a tropical-print shirt bursting with greens, blues, and yellows. His hair was slicked back and he trimmed his beard and looked so dashing. But as handsome as Sam was, you sucked in a breath when you saw Dieter in his khaki pants and a power blue short sleeve button-up with the top couple of buttons undone. As you get closer you squint, trying to make out the pattern, but Indy beats you to it.

“Are those fucking cranes on your shirt?” She chuckles.

“Uh, yeah,” he shifts his weight. 

“Well, I like it, you look great,” you walk up, kissing him on the cheek and feeling him relax.

“Thanks, baby,” he whispers in your ear, pulling back to look you up and down. “You look amazing. Both of you.”

“Thanks, Dee,” Indy winks. “You all good to go?”

Dieter takes your hand as the four of you head downstairs to the beach, where the resort staff set up the luau. It was fun to see everyone dressed up and enjoying themselves. Even Rhys and Liz are there, Liz giving you a knowing smile as her gaze drops down to your hand in Dieter’s. Because you were his date, you sit at the head table, clocking a tremendous eye roll from Aubrey as you walk by her table on the way to yours. 

The evening is a bit of a blur, between catching up with everyone, eating the amazing food, and watching the show. Before you knew it, it was over and everyone was starting to disperse. Ari, Danny, and Brianna were trying to get you all to go out to a bar, but Dieter faked a headache to give you two an easy out.

Dieter pulls you into the elevator as soon as it opens and repeatedly taps on the “Door Close” button to ensure you two are alone. As soon as the doors closed, he presses you against the wall cupping your face with one hand as the other wraps around your waist. His lips crash into yours for a hungry kiss. “I’ve been dying to get out of there,” he manages between kisses.

“Mmm, why’s that?” you try to be coy but your mewl gives you away as he nips along your jawline, moving towards that particular spot behind your ear that drives you wild.

“Because, I wanted you all to myself, baby,” he kisses down your neck along your collarbone. “You look so fucking good, you were drivin' me crazy in this dress, ya know that?” He pulls back, cupping your face as his thumb caresses your cheekbone.

Ding.

You arrive at your floor and you both giggle walking back to your room, sneaking kisses along the way. As soon as you walk into your suite, Dieter makes quick work of locking your door and walking you down to your room as he kisses you. “You know, I didn’t have any dessert downstairs,” he smiles against your lips. “Think you could help me with that?”

The next day you wake up to the smell of bacon and the sound of a squeaky wheel. You crack an eye open and see Dieter wheeling in a little cart, a box of cookies tucked in his arm.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he smiles. “I know it’s early, but we gotta get going. Our ride should be here soon to pick us up, but I tried to give you enough time to eat and get ready.”

He is clearly nervous, which is so cute. He moves to open the large glass sliding doors, so you can hear the crash of the waves.

“Mmm, breakfast in bed? I could get used to this you know?” You manage a smile as you get up and stretch.

Last night you and Dieter had fooled around a bit but kept things relatively tame. You slipped on his shirt again, loving the way it smelled just like him.

When you're sipping the last of your coffee, Dieter turns to you, "Ok, so our ride should be here in like half an hour, is that enough time for you to get ready?"

"Ah, yeah, depends…what am I getting ready for?"

"We're spending most of the day outside, so comfy clothes that you wouldn't mind getting dirty," his eyes rake up and down your body. "But maybe put on a swimsuit, you know in case you get wet."

You don't really even register the innuendo because you are so wrapped up in the thought of having to wear a swimsuit. Despite the fact that Dieter never made you feel uncomfortable about your body, it was hard to undo years of insecurities within just a few days. 

"Oh ah, I didn't bring one. I, uh, I don't know how to swim," you twist your mouth wishing you had more coffee to at least give your hands something to do.

"So you came to Hawaii, a place full of beaches and to a resort with a gigantic pool, and didn't bring a swimsuit? Not even to lounge around?" He cocks his head to the side with a skeptical look.

"I…uh…" You start to fidget and Dieter takes your hand and starts to rub small circles. "I do, I just…"

"Hey, it's just going to be me and you today, I uh, I made sure of it," he smiles. "You don't have to, but one of the places we're going to has a really pretty waterfall and swimming area and I uh…I thought it could be fun." Now it was his turn to be nervous as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry, old habits," you smile. "I'll throw it on. Anything else I should wear or pack?"

The light comes back into his eyes as he grins, "Awesome! And just wear some sneakers, they were very adamant about closed-toed shoes," he rolls his eyes. "But everything else has been taken care of."

You smile at him for a second, trying to not let your emotions get the better of you. You had never had a man plan a whole day for you like this. The most Ryan ever did was surprise you with dinner and a show, but that was early on when you just started dating. 

"C'mon we should get dressed," Dieter pulls you up and out of bed. 

You rummage through your drawers and find your swimsuit, a black one-piece halter-style suit that has a very classic silhouette along with some blue gym shorts and a gray racerback tank top.

"I'm gonna change and I'll be right back," you say as Dieter looks through his little duffle. 

"You can have that bottom drawer you know." You motion to your dresser.

"Yea?" He smirks. "Well, good to know. I may need to bring some more stuff over then," he winks.

You playfully roll your eyes as you head into the bathroom, closing the door so you can get changed. After slipping on your swimsuit and clothes you make quick work of putting on some sunscreen, concealer under your eyes, and mascara. You finish off by throwing your hair in a messy bun before opening the door back up.

Dieter is wearing an outfit you recognize from the photoshoot the other day. A pair of red shorts, which must also double as swim trunks, and a white short-sleeved button-down. Like at the shoot, he left the top couple of buttons undone. He honestly takes your breath away at how effortlessly handsome he looks and you feel like you look so shabby in comparison.

"You look perfect," the corners of his mouth turn up when he sees you.

"You look like a model," you chuckle. 

"Well, I showed Liz what I was originally thinking of wearing and she said absolutely fucking not, so here's the backup," he laughed. "Ready?"

You nod and grab your crossbody as Dieter takes your hand. As you open the door to the hallway, you see a small backpack sitting on the floor.

"Perfect, right on time," Dieter says to himself looking over at you. "Danny. I asked him to drop this off," he smiles as he slings the backpack over his shoulder.

"So where are we headed?" You ask as you both get into the elevator.

"It's a surprise," Dieter winks. "But the day has a theme so you may start to pick up on it as we go."

You squint and pursed your lips trying to glean any hints, but coming up empty. Going with the flow isn't usually your strong suit, that was more of an Indy thing, but you decide to just let things happen today and try to not overthink it. 

As you walk through the lobby to the valet you see a Jeep decked out like one of the jeeps from Jurassic Park. 

"Oh look, how cool!" You nod over towards it with your chin.

Dieter squeezes your hand and with the biggest smile says, "That's our ride!"

"Wait, what? Really?"

And as you approach, a man gets out. He has dark, curly hair sticking out of his baseball cap with "Jurassic Park Adventures" emblazoned on the front. He wore a white polo which had the same logo as his hat on the right side of his chest, and a simple pair of black shorts.

"Mr. Bravo?" The man asks, extending a hand to Dieter.

"Yeah, Dieter, please," Dieter gives a warm smile as he shakes the man's hand. "And this is Belle," he gestures to you.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Frankie. I'll be with you two for a couple of hours this morning," he shakes your hand. "You both ready?" 

Dieter looks over to you and even though you're still kind of confused as to what is going on you nod and Dieter helps you into the Jeep before sliding in after you.

You and Dieter make some small talk with Frankie as you drive. You recognize you’re on the road back to the airport, which is only a few minutes from your resort. Every time you tried to get a little hint as to what was coming, you'd see Frankie and Dieter exchange a glance in the rearview mirror. Clearly, Dieter has prepped the man that you were going to ask questions to figure out what was going on.

When you finally pull off the main road, you see a large building with a few Jurassic Park-themed Jeeps parked out front. And as you round a corner, you see a large open space with a helicopter, decked out with the same theming.

Dieter squeezes your thigh and looks a bit nervous, trying to gauge your reaction.

"Are we going in a helicopter?!" You look between Dieter and out the window to the helicopter. Dieter gives a small nod which makes you squeal. "Oh my gosh, I've always wanted to fly in a helicopter!"

Dieter blushes a bit as you kiss him on the cheek before getting out of the Jeep. 

Frankie gives you both a quick safety briefing and then walks you over to the helicopter. He mentions that you'll be seeing parts of the island that were used for shooting Jurassic Park as well as other films and TV shows.

"Wait, aren't there other people joining us?" You ask Frankie as Dieter trails behind.

Frankie looks behind you to Dieter for some confirmation before turning to you, "This is a private tour, just the two of you," he smiles. 

You turn around to Dieter who has a sheepish grin. Overcome with excitement you throw yourself at Dieter, wrapping your hands around his neck. "Oh my gosh, are you serious?! This is so cool!"

"I had a feeling you may like this," he winks.

"I'm so excited, this is … this is amazing. Thank you, baby," you kiss him and have to remind yourself that you aren't alone so as to not deepen the kiss more.

"I spared no expense," he winks.

I had a feeling she was going to like this, but seeing the way her entire face lit up knowing that we were doing this. The fact that I managed to get her a private tour to see the beautiful island that was the backdrop of her favorite movie. It's one of the best things I've done recently and worth every penny, even if I had to pay this guy an extra thousand because it was just the two of us. She's worth it. Seeing her smile, damn she has the most beautiful smile, it's worth it. And I want to do everything I can to keep her smiling. Because I … I love her. I'm past falling in love with her, I'm firmly rooted and there's no turning back. She has a piece of my heart.

Frankie gets you buckled in and hands over a headset giving you a thumbs up as he moves over to make sure Dieter is secured. 

"Alright, you both ready?" You hear Frankie's deep voice in the headset.

"Ready!" Dieter looks over, giddy with excitement.

"Yeah, let's do this," you reach over to squeeze Dieter's knee.

Frankie gently talks to the helicopter, like he's trying to coax it off the ground. Suddenly you feel a gentle lift off and you take off. Within minutes you can see your resort underneath you along with an amazing sunrise.

"I'll try and angle us as best as we can, but the sunrise is going to be out of your right-hand side," Frankie pops in.

You grab your phone to snap a couple of photos, before flipping the camera so you can take a selfie with Dieter, who leans over and gives you a kiss on the cheek, causing you to giggle.

"Ok so if you look out on the right you'll see the Hanapepe Valley. Some of the most beautiful rainbows on the island. We'll be at our stop here in a few so sit back and relax."

"A stop?"

Dieter laughs at your confusion and gives a coy smile.

Frankie expertly starts to wind the aircraft through some valleys, going further into the island. You don't see any roads, just rich, luscious greenery. He rounds a corner and the sight takes your breath away. You bring your hands to cover your mouth.

"And that right there is Manawaiopuna Falls. It's 400 feet high and is featured in the iconic shot-"

"Of when Hammond brings everyone to the island. Is this…is this where they shot the helicopter landing?" You look excitedly out the windows not catching how Dieter's look softens seeing how excited you are.

"You are a big fan huh?" Frankie chuckles in the headset. "Well, I'll spare you my script about the scene since you know it. But this is a secluded waterfall, only accessible by helicopter. Want me to land this thing and take a look around?"

"What?! Seriously. Oh my gosh, yes!" You grab your phone and film the descent.

"Ok, sit tight." Frankie clicks a bunch of switches and powers down the helicopter. Once he's done he hops out and opens the door on Dieter's side helping to unbuckle him and grab his headset. Dieter follows Frankie around to the other side and waits patiently as the man helps get you unbuckled, although you catch Dieter glancing to make sure Frankie's hands stay where they should, which makes you smirk. Frankie offers you his hand to get out, which you take and flash him a big smile. 

"Alright, so you've got about 20 minutes or so to explore. Try to not go too much beyond those trees," he nods to the jungle to your right. "Technically you're not supposed to swim in the waterfall, but I won't say anything if you don’t. Just do me a favor and don’t take any photos if you do,” he winks. “I’m just gonna hang in here, you guys have fun!” He turns and heads back to the helicopter. 

You are absolutely stunned by this view. The waterfall is loud, but there is something so relaxing about it. The mist coming off of the waterfall hits your skin as you move closer to it, closing your eyes and taking it all in. You feel Dieter behind you as he wraps his arms around your waist. 

He nuzzles into your neck and you can practically hear his smile, “You like it?”

You turn around, misty-eyed as you look at him. “This is…amazing. I, I have no words.” You get up on your tip toes and kiss him.

“Well, this is only the beginning,” he manages between kisses as you work your hands through his hair. A soft moan comes out as you slightly tug on his hair. “Don’t forget that we have company,” he smiles into your kiss and then pulls back. “Though, I’ve never been one to turn down a crowd,” he winks.

You roll your eyes and bring your hands down to rest on his chest. “Did he say we can go swimming?”

“See why I told you to wear a suit?”

“Oh shit, I don’t have a towel.”

“I do,” he turns his head and looks at the backpack on the ground. 

“What else do you have in there,” you move toward the bag before Dieter steps in front of you.

“Ah ah ah, you didn’t say the magic words,” he smiles.

“Oh my gosh, you’re going to throw in movie lines all day aren’t you?” You chuckle.

“C’mon, I couldn’t pass that one up. Here, quick let’s go, we don’t have a lot of time here.”

You don’t have time to think about your insecurities or how you look, you quickly peel off your top and pull down your shorts, hearing Dieter suck in a breath. 

“I really like this,” he moves closer and runs his hand down your side. 

“It’s just a plain black suit, it’s kinda boring.”

“How can it be boring when you look like that? I lo- I love it,” he smiles.

“Do you know how deep this water is?” You grab his hand, looking nervously towards the pool. 

“No idea. You know how to swim?” You shake your head. “Well, guess you gotta hold on to me then,” he winks. “C’mon.”

He grabs your hand and leads you into the water. It’s cool but refreshing. Despite the roaring waterfall down the way, this section is relatively calm. You wade further in and when the water starts to come up to your chest, Dieter pulls you close, “I’m gonna pick you up, ok? Wrap your legs around my waist.”

You are thankful that you are in the water, so Dieter won’t be able to feel how absolutely wet this request makes you. You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands reach down to the back of your thighs pulling your legs up so you can wrap around his waist, crossing your ankles behind his back. 

“I feel kind of like a koala,” you laugh.

“Well, I happen to love koalas,” he chuckles as his hands trail down, kneading your ass as he walks further in before stopping to float.

You close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder, trying to savor this moment. “I feel like this is a dream,” you finally say, pulling back and looking at him, playing with the back of his hair. “Thank you, this is amazing. You’re really sweet for doing this.”

“You don’t think this is too much?” He bites his bottom lip.

“I love it,” you smile, kissing his forehead and nuzzling your nose against his. 

You both stay like that for a moment, you feel like your breathing has synced up. You shift a little bit, slightly readjusting your legs around Dieter’s waist. “You keep moving around like that baby, and we definitely are gonna give that guy a show,” he smiles. 

“Oh my gosh,” you giggle, going back to resting your head on his shoulder as he floats you both around.

After a few moments, you hear someone clear their throat, remembering that you did in fact have someone else there with you. You both turn your heads to the shore to see Frankie awkwardly standing there. He pulls his hat off and runs his fingers through his hair before returning the cap back, “Hey, uh, we should probably get going soon. Lots more to see,” he gives a tight-lipped smile.

“Okay, we’ll be out in a sec,”

“You sure you’re ok to get out,” you wink at him.

“Ha, very funny,” he chuckles.

He leads you back out of the water and grabs a towel, wrapping you in it before he grabs one for himself. When you’ve gotten as dry as you were going to get, you slip your shorts back on again.

“Ok, you both ready to get back in and see the rest?”

“Absolutely!” you practically skip back to the helicopter and wait for Frankie to help you back in.

As you ascend again, Frankie pops back onto the headset to let you know that you’re going to check out some of the sights along the NaPali Coast. “This is the kind of stuff you can’t see from a car, only in the air.”

You are torn between wanting to savor this experience and filming the entire flight so you can capture the beauty and watch it again. Ultimately you wanted to be in the moment. The majestic mountains, the cliffs dropping off into a water so blue, you didn’t know how to describe this sight. 

“Oh my goodness, this is absolutely beautiful.” You say into the headset.

“It definitely is,” you hear Dieter say, not realizing he was looking directly at you when he said it.

Frankie weaves the helicopter further into the island and you see ancient caves while he tells you some of the history of the island. You make it over to Bali Hai and Lumahai Beach, where he tells you they shot scenes from South Pacific. The hour tour feels like it’s over within minutes and before you know it, you’re descending back down.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: I cannot help myself, they were in a freaking helicopter. Although it’s called Jurassic Park Adventures, this is totally a nod to @sin-djarin’s Catfish Aviation business card post. Also, this helicopter tour is a legitimate one. I haven’t personally been on it, but I want to since Jurassic Park is one of my favorite movies of all time.

I appreciate you making it this far and I hope you like what's in store for Chapter 16 ... we finally get that slow burn payoff (at least I hope you think so!). Thank you for reading. I appreciate all of the kind comments, reblogs, and likes. My inbox is open if you want to say hi!

Tag list: @musings-of-a-rose / @legendary-pink-dot / @bitchwitch1981 / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @gracie7209 / @amneris21 / @pastelnap / @maryfanson / @sunnywithachanceofjavi / @sin-djarin / @winchestergypsy90 / @for-a-longlongtime /@harriedandharassed / @titlee78 / @midnightraain / @poodlebae / @partyofone3413 / @guelyury / @weho2kcmo / @missladym1981

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #working title fic

[miccimocha]

It's only been like 2 hrs but I'll post the unfinished fic. I also uploaded it in ao3, so you guys can also read it there whenever.

If I ever get the motivation to write the rest, I'll post it here first.

MY GOODBYE

John Dory Centric

...

John Dory felt tired. That was the main feeling he was currently experiencing. He doesn't know from what exactly, he just knows he is.

He was currently sitting on one of the chairs inside Rhonda, staring off through tbe window. He saw a bunch of little trolls playing and running around without a care in the world.

This made him think about his brothers. JD remembers how they used to play hide and seek in the house, hiding in the most peculiar places. There was this one time where Clay hid inside the washing machine and it took hourse for them to find him. He felt the sense of nostalgia.

John Dory turned his gaze away from the window and walked towards the clue board that Branch made. It was filled with pictures back in their Brozone days. He used to look at this very fondly, but now he just felt bittersweet about the whole thing. Sure it was fun, it was thing that he did with his brothers, but it was also the very reason why all of them broke up.

He's the reason why they all fell apart.

The eldest could never forgive himself for what happened. He won't even be suprised if his brothers' still hated him, they probably just didn't want to say to his face.

John Dory took a photo from the wall. It was a group photo of him and his brothers, the day of their very first performance with Branch. He couldn't help but smile a little at the memory.

He put the photo down and went to open a chest full of things he had gathered over the years for his brothers. There were birthday gifts, christmas gifts, and even letters he wrote for each and everyone of them.

John had been thinking about giving his brothers all of it, but he never found the right time to actually do it. Or maybe he's just a coward.

He sighed and walked away from the box. There was pause, the silence was loud. Then, he went back and carried the chest to the front.

"Come on, girl. I gotta deliver some packages." John Dory started the engine and sped into the direction of Branch's Bunker.

The old troll knew that neither the youngest or the rest of his brothers were at home. They were all currently out, visiting Bruce's family at Vacay Island. It was also an excuse for a family vacation and bonding time. Altough John was tempted to go, he declined Bruce's offer when it came up. His brothers looked disappointed, he felt guilty about that, but he didn't change his mind.

He knew that if he came he would just bum everybody out and the mood will just go down. He didn't want to risk it, as much as he would love to hang out with his brothers.

John Dory begins to think on what could have been if they- if he hadn't left. If he wasn't a selfish prick who pushed around his brothers. If he hadn't put on all those pressure about being perfect onto his brothers. Maybe they could've been happy. Branch wouldn't have been alone. None of his brothers would have the insecurities they had now. It was his fault, it always has been and it'll always will be.

And John Dory knew the truth about it all. He knew that it wasn't his brothers who weren't perfect. No. It was JD, himself. He was too full of pride to actually admit it back then, but it was true. He pushed his own defects onto his brothers, and because of that, they all fell apart.

So, now, he's going to get rid of the problem. Himself.

<__>

Once John Dory arrived in front of Branch's Bunker, he got out of Rhonda with the chest. He stopped right at the "Go Away!" mat and hesitated a little bit. Eventually, he put down the chest on the ground, beside the entrance. He pulls out a pen and paper from inside his hair and began to write.

|

|

"Dear Bros,

I know this seems strange, but this chest is full of presents I had for you all, from the day I left until the day we reunited. Please open it, I swear this isn't a joke.

I also just want to say sorry for all the things I had done. I know it isn't much, and it wouldn't give back the lost time that passed, but I just want you guys to know how much I love you.

All those years I've spent in the wild, there wasn't a day I didn't think of any of you, even if I tried not to...

Love, your eldest brother:

John Dory"

|

|

The penmanship was not the best, but it was still readable. His brothers would understand it. He hopes.

He sticks the letter on top of the chest. Once done, he walked over to Rhonda, his face turning into one of guilt. "Hey, Rhonda, girl. I-..." He took a breath and tried to steady his breathing. " I'm...going to be away for awhile. Or- Well, not really 'awhile', but you know...away."

Rhonda makes a sound of confusion and fear, not understanding what he was doing, but was clearly worried about him. Being with him for all those years, she learned to pick up on his moods and emotions. Right now, Rhonda felt concerned for JD with the amount of sadness he was giving off.

John Dory smiled sadly. "Yeah, I know you're concerned girl, but I promise it's ok." He hugged the critter. "Just stay here, bud. I promise, I'm coming back. I just need some time for myself right now."

Here he was again, breaking promises.

Once JD let go of her, he patted her for the last time and walked away. As much as Rhonda had wanted to follow, she couldn't disobey him. Besides, he promised her that he'll come back. He'll never lie to her. She trusted him.

..............

Yeah, that's basically it. But, again, I'll post the next part here first before ao3 when I get to it.

#john dory trolls #john dory #trolls #trolls band together #john dory fanfiction #fanfiction #brozone #unfinished fic #help me😭😭

[roseonne]

next time

Mephistopheles attempts to ask you out on White Day.

a mephisto x mc / reader for white day ! ( ao3 link )

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

"Alright. Class dismissed."

Finally.

Mephistopheles lets out the mental groan he's been holding onto since the beginning of class, around three eons ago. (He's exaggerating, obviously, but three hours did feel an awful lot longer today, for some reason.) Normally, being stuck to his chair with his ears almost hurting from hearing the significance of magical potions and their hazards, not only to humans but to angels and demons as well, over and over again, is a tolerable occurrence for him. So now, seeing that he's seemingly over everything that's had happened to him within the span of just one day, irritates the life out of him.

Hastily, and with a hint of recklessness, the RAD Newspaper Club (former) president wastes not a moment in gathering up his things and taking his leave.

Oh, thus he realizes, whilst on his way out.

Maybe that's what's keeping him so preoccupied? The piled-up articles he still has to proofread and publish; the photos in his camera that he's to edit first, then upload to the official RAD Website; and a terrifyingly long list of all the other deadlines he ought to catch up to, academic and personal matters combined.

A sigh of distress escapes the noble demon's lips. Without much thought, he fetches his D.D.D. out of his pocket and the screen immediately comes to life.

03/14/XXXX 4:46 P.M. Today's Daily Reminder: "Don't forget to celebrate White Day in your own, special way!" -Lord Diavolo

Well. That explains it.

Troubled, Mephistopheles runs his fingers through his hair, tousling the locks he made sure to keep as neat and tidy as possible. As much as he desires to fulfill Lord Diavolo's honorable (although sometimes questionable) requests, just how in the Devildom is he to juggle all his tasks and duties at once? He has his work cut out for him today, and for the rest of the week. Such a poor demon he's become. And to make things even more complicated on his end, apparently, he isn't getting any of his listed items done right on schedule. Unfortunately so.

For as if in response to his already-raging psychological turmoil, the universe provides him with the biggest, most troublesome distraction he's yet to learn to ignore and conquer...

Mephistopheles sees you.

"MC!" he calls out from the top of his lungs suddenly, surprising both you and himself as his voice appears to have acted against his will. And the fact that he rushes to your side upon instinct truly isn't helping him in the slightest. "Fancy bumping into you now of all times."

"Mephisto!" You greet him with a smile, and right away, he feels the warmth of you emanating from the center of his chest. "Good work today!"

"Likewise." Mephistopheles places a hand over his heart and bows at you slightly. "Are you heading home now?"

Your polite nod in confirmation to his query earns a rather sharp click of the demon's tongue. 

"Isn't it too early for that?" Mephistopheles raises an eyebrow. "Why don't I do you the honor of inviting you out with me for dinner, perhaps? Of course, on behalf of Lord Diavolo and the rest of RAD, we're grateful for your efforts in keeping the exchange program alive!"

The noble demon senses you feeling a little taken aback; and he understands. He figures you're probably aware of how busy he is, considering how tedious it is being the main individual manning the RAD Newspaper Club. Again, even he is growing more and more perplexed at how his body's acting. Doesn't he have so many things to do? How is he able to make it seem like he's got so much time to spare while keeping a straight face? Oh, Diavolo. He no longer recognizes himself at all.

"Uhm..." you find yourself stuttering, evidently unsure as to the kind of answer you'll provide your current pursuer. 

"If you're wondering how we'll meet, I'll pick you up at the House of Lamentation by seven." But Mephistopheles is more than ready to hush each and every one of your possible concerns. 

Shifting a little of your weight over to your other foot, you hum quite a playful, "Well..." 

Crossing his arms, but raising his index finger in the air, the demon proudly declares, "It'll be my treat, MC. Don't worry. I got you."

And you've made up your mind; Mephistopheles recognizes the familiar light in your eyes the moment your gazes briefly met and locked. 

"MC, there you are!"

But what perfect timing. In the midst of his persuasion, here comes the residents of Purgatory Hall. And the brothers of the House of Lamentation. And well, basically everyone else you hold very close to your heart.

Clearing his throat in a slight panic, Mephistopheles tries to regain your attention, "MC, please. If you would justー"

He's too late.

"I'm so sorry, Mephisto." It's the sincerest, most bittersweet apology he's been told so far. "Maybe next time!" you add quickly, as you at last get dragged farther and farther away from him.

Down the drain, goes his infrequent chance with you, yet again. Mephistopheles squeezes his eyes closed and chews on his lower lip; his mind all blank, save for the resentfulness looming heavily over him. Forget about his deadlines; his tasks; his duties; his role in the future of Devildom. Is it too much for him to ask a mere moment of your time? Is he never really going to learn more about you at this point?

Mephistopheles doesn't see it as a fair game anymore. He's one of the first few demons who's heard of your name the very day you arrived at the Devildom; and yet at least a minute of decent, proper conversation between the two of you, alone, still remains beyond his reach. 

Seeing you share the smile that he is able to somehow find comfort in with everyone else, except him... He admits, it causes a twinge of pain to swell across his chest.

How many next time's have you promised him by now, anyway? He bets you won't remember, either.

But since he isn't the type to just sit in a corner and cry; maybe he just has to keep trying, then? Like the lessons in class, over and over. He must push forward, until hopefully one day, you'll learn to look at him from a perspective different from the one you have of him at present.

...Great.

Looks like he's added yet another questionable thing up his list; which he normally would've called a pain in the rear, but it's you he's thinking of so... You're the exception. His exception. You always are, and always have been. 

Guess I'll have to try something harder than initiating conversations, Mephistopheles brings his eyes to the sky and promises; to you and to himself. Next time. 

And once he succeeds in this mission of forever, only then can he say...

That he's indeed made the progress he so longs for. With you. 

#obey me #obey me shall we date #mephistopheles #mephistopheles x mc #mephistopheles x reader #gender neutral reader #white day #this is a coming out post #for being a mephisto enjoyer #T_T #i cri girls boys and in betweens he so fine #inside seonne's head

[holewithinahole]

The Spirit's in It | Egon Spengler x nb!reader [1/3]

Summary: “I didn’t know psychology doctors also specialized in particle physics, is all.”

What you meant as a light joke to relax him did quite the opposite. He straightens, righting up his glasses one more pointless time. “I have a degree in nuclear engineering,” he states before walking out, leaving you confused and feeling like you’ve spent the entire time offending him unintentionally.

Warnings: dubious science, non-native writer, non-beta'd

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Ao3 Link

Woopsies, I'm back to plaster my insecurities on fictional characters. This work is part of a two-part series which follows the events of the Ghostbusters primary canon. The first part, set during the first movie, will be cut in 3 smaller bits for Tumblr. When all parts will be posted, I'll upload it on Ao3. The parts are all written, so it'll be released soon enough.

I just want to do a little disclaimer. Usually my 'reader' characters are very loosely characterized so anyone can project on them. However, this reader might not fit everyone? I'm sorry about that. Overall, if you're autistic, on the aro/ace spectrum or just a tiny bit ND, you might feel more connection to the reader lmao.

Ah! Also, the science sucks, pls ignore. It can be read as a prequel to It's always the quiet ones, btw.

Summer, 1984

This is a good song, you think, the beat intense enough to distract the back of your brain as you write down the last advancements of your research. You’ve spent the entire month of July reading books and other scientists’ papers, but not managing – until now – to sit down and order the large number of notes you piled up. Running on the pure energy of your hyper-focused state, a dozen cups of coffee and a single chocolate bar, you definitely didn’t notice the man stepping into your lab, not until you randomly glanced up and met the disconcerted gaze of an unknown guest.

“Excuse me?” he mouths out.

You straighten in your chair so quickly your back snap.

“Ah! Yes! Sorry, what is it?” you stammer, taking out your headphones with shaky hands and fumbling with your Walkman.

The man stands at the entrance of the lab, strangely stiff, seemingly assessing his next course of action before taking exactly four steps toward your desk.

“I would like to borrow a soldering iron.” He rights his glasses up his long nose.

The first thing you take note of is the low modulation of his voice; an unusual pitch that seems to vibrate directly out of his chest. The second is his wide, rigid build. From your chair, he towers over you, and your neck is starting to hurt from stretching uncomfortably (it might just be your overall terrible posture.)

You’ve been staring a little too long so you clear your throat and get up. “And you are? Not that I’m unwilling to lend you a soldering iron but I can’t just give my tools to strangers–”

“Dr. Spengler, I work at the psychology pole of this university,” he interrupts.

He looks at you like you’ve got a stain right in the middle of your forehead. You glance away.

“Psychology? What do you intend to solder? A loose neuron?” You stand up, cracking up a joke nervously.

“I assure you I don’t conduct any dangerous experiments on unwilling subjects.”

Despite the tension, it’s the ‘unwilling’ that does it for you and you let out a chuckle. Finally meeting his eyes, the light frown he adorns is either one of incomprehension or irritation, making you drop the smile immediately.

“Uh–” you croak out before you decide better not to say anything. You both end up looking awkwardly at each other, and time seems to be stretching to amplify your discomfort – and probably his as well. It feels like orbiting a black hole while he’s rushing through the universe at 18.5 miles a second.

Smart enough to be a researcher, stupid enough to ruin a simple conversation.

Fingers fidgety, you walk away to rummage through your closets, taking out the tool and handing it to him. “I do intend to have it back soon, Dr. Spengler.”

There’s a slight hesitation in his hand before he takes it, nodding curtly. In your defense, you do try to smile, even if it’s an uptight, embarrassing attempt. Oddly enough, he doesn’t leave, staring at the iron for a couple of seconds.

Abruptly, he clears his throat, looking intently at your face. “I’m improving a prototype that detects the presence of paranormal entities and directs me to them using a boron-trifluoride counter tube and a platinum electrode.” He doesn’t even take a breath. “A component of the rate meter I installed seems to be defective, and the cable of my soldering iron broke while I was working.”

He comes to a sudden stop, mouth half-opened but doesn’t resume his explanation. At a loss on how to react –and surely gaping at him considering you weren’t expecting to be slapped across the face by a presentation on neutron detectors, you whisper a small: “I see.”

A nervous twitch at the corner of his mouth makes your stomach drop.

“Uh, I mean; you can borrow mine!” You let out a tiny laugh. “I didn’t know psychology doctors also specialized in particle physics, is all.”

What you meant as a light joke to relax him did quite the opposite. He straightens, righting up his glasses one more pointless time. “I have a degree in nuclear engineering,” he states before walking out, leaving you confused and feeling like you’ve spent the entire time offending him unintentionally.

Ground control to Major Tom, your circuit’s dead, there’s something wrong, screams your forgotten Walkman.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dr. Spengler didn’t come back to your lab after your disastrous first meeting. He did return the iron, though. You simply found it on your desk one morning at seven o'clock, electric cable neatly wrapped around the handle.

You were secretly hoping for the doctor to come back to your lab to hand the iron back, so you could have apologized and asked more about his work, about his degrees… anything really. You had planned the interaction at least thirty times, going through a series of ice-breaking sentences that all relied on the fact that he would be back. He had preferred to avoid you, which couldn’t compel you to go see him yourself. Clearly, you had left a bad impression, and anxiety wouldn’t let you go look for him to apologize.

In the meantime, intrigued by his academic history, you started going through published papers by Dr. Egon – you quickly learned – Spengler. And if you thought you couldn’t get more curious about this mystery of a man, you browsing through numerous seemingly random articles – like ‘Quantum tunneling in anastomosis formations and nuclear exchanges’ – made you raise many eyebrows. Your fascination reached new heights with his brilliant article on ionizing radiation, written in M.I.T. no less. Egon Spengler had become the person you wished to chat with the most yet the most inaccessible.

You can think of a million questions to ask him, a million conversations to have. Why ionizing radiations? Did he have an interest in cosmic particles? Were his studies on gamma radiation related to his microbiology degree? How did he end up working in the psychology aisle of Columbia? Could ectoplasms really be quantified as a network of negatively charged particles?

Your life became filled with thoughts of the doctor, so you blamed it all on professional curiosity and you pushed yourself back into your work. Labs have been deserted by most researchers, preferring to treat themselves to a well-earned vacation. Nothing you can’t agree with in essence but previously attempted vacations had instilled a strong feeling of dread in you: you showed yourself incapable of not visualizing the amount of unfinished work. It’s not as bad as it sounds, really, to be work-obsessed; you love your work. Summer in Columbia is peaceful, solitary but also desperately unstimulating. Researching alone is undoubtedly slower, especially in your field, and knowing there’s an ideal candidate for some great brainstorming a few buildings away is nerve-wracking.

After an entire month going by with no new interaction with Dr. Spengler – not even sighting him at the corner of a corridor, the awkwardness that made him run away fuels your guilt. However, the opportunity of meeting again with Dr. Spengler comes unexpectedly. It comes with a mandatory meeting with the dean of the academy.

“You’ve been summoned as well, uh?”

You snap out of your social distancing trance. “Sorry?”

Next to you stands another professor with an easygoing smile and a relaxed stance. “Dean Yaeger. He likes to summon us like he’s royalty,” he jokes followed by a low staccato of a laugh.

“Oh,” you pointlessly say. “Yeah, he tends to do that.”

He offers his hand, showing another pearly-white-toothed smile. “I’m Dr. Ray Stantz, department of psychology.”

You offer your name back as you shake his hand. “Department of Physics.”

“Neat.” Dr. Stantz grins. “You should drop by our aisle sometimes. Spengs has a degree in physics; I’m sure you’ll get along well.”

“Who?”

“Dr. Egon Spengler, my colleague and friend.”

“Oh.” How you despise idle chatting. “I know him. He came to my lab to borrow a soldering iron about a month ago.”

“Venkman – our other colleague, forced him to go ask; he was so grumpy after being stopped in the middle of his experiment.” Dr. Stantz sure does enjoy making conversation. “He returned it, right?”

You have the impression he already knows the answer. “Yes, he did.”

“What field of physics do you specialize in by the way?” he asks excitedly. You have to say his jolly attitude is endearing, slowly getting you more at ease.

“High-energy physics.”

“That’s amazing, man. ‘actually wish I knew more about it. You should definitely swing by our lab soon. You can take a look at what we’ve–”

“Ah. Dr. Stantz.” Dean Yeager has the most distasteful expression on his face. “You may come in.”

Dr. Stantz gives you an apologetic look as Yaeger nods at you. You remain standing in front of the door, anxiety spiking up. Now you have no other choice than to go, or it’ll be rude, right?

Shit.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It took you more than a week of conditioning to get your ass moving, leading you, once more, in front of a closed door. You have to say, this part of the psychology department is far from what you’ve imagined. You wonder what Dr. Stantz, Dr. Venkman, and Dr. Spengler did to offend Dean Yaeger to the point of being located in the university equivalent of a demilitarized zone. No wonder they need to borrow equipment from the physics department. The bright red ‘Burn in hell Venkman’ tagged on the door isn’t the most welcoming sight either.

You reluctantly raise your hand and knock four times. The shuffling you hear inside almost makes you run away. But thankfully – or miserably you’re still unsure about that one, an unknown man opens the door. Dr. Venkman, you guess.

A lazy smile stretches on his face. “Can I help you?” There’s a low edge to his voice, something that’s intended and practiced.

You try not to come out as too appalled. “I’m looking for Dr. Spengler.”

Dr. Venkman raises an eyebrow, and you immediately chastise yourself. At that moment, you see Dr. Spengler popping his head behind him and you lose your train of thought… and your words. “Uh, Dr. Stantz told me to–”

Dr. Venkman opens his eyes almost comically wide, pivoting slowly between Dr. Spengler and yourself. “Aaal-right. You know what; I have to meet up with Veronica of the literature department so– I’ll leave you guys to it.” He claps obnoxiously on his friend’s shoulder before departing, sliding past you while whistling some tune.

You watch him go, slightly distracted when Dr. Spengler grabs your attention again. “Dr. Stantz isn’t here today.”

“Ah, I see…” No wait–

“He’ll be here tomorrow at 8 am.” He angles his body towards the inside of the room like he’s wanting to go back to what he was previously doing.

“Actually,” you force out, heart at the edge of your lips. “I wanted to apologize to you.”

Only the small widening of his eyes behind his frames indicates his surprise because his voice remains soft-spoken. “Apologize for?”

Better to be honest than invent a stupid excuse he’ll probably spot immediately. “Yes, I clearly made you uncomfortable last time. I was only trying to idle-chat, but I’m terrible at it.”

“What makes you think you made me uncomfortable?” Dr. Spengler asks.

A few seconds pass. “…because I went out of my way by questioning whether or not you had the knowledge to speak about particle physics?”

“Did you?” You realize he’s probably genuinely asking, not as a way to rile you up but as a way to understand. Somehow, it calms your nerves. Just a little.

“No,” you say. “I’m sorry… you just looked upset when you left.”

He faces you completely this time, taking his time to answer. “Then I’m the one apologizing. I was grateful for your help, but I failed to show it.”

Some part of you wonders if it’s entirely true. You brush it off. “It’s alright. I guess we’re not good at understanding social cues, uh?”

He seems to be pondering something. “I’ve been told that before.”

You chuckle. There’s a tension off his shoulders, and you thank Dr. Stantz internally.

“I’m actually working on a prototype of particle thrower. Your input would be appreciated.”

“A what?!”

#egon spengler x reader #egon spengler #ghostbusters imagine #ghostbusters #ghostbusters reader insert #non binary reader

[eruden-writes]

The Unexpected Human Problem - Part 1 - (Yautja x Human)

Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5| Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31

Summary: The night her abductors die, Rayelle finds herself running for her life. She doesn't know where she is, what is following her, where to go. All she knows is she's not on Earth any longer and the thing chasing her has the capacity to kill.

Tai'qdei never anticipated finding a human when he took the job of tracking and subduing a small contingent of smugglers. It was only when the human attacked and fled fled, Tai'qdei - hopped up on the euphoria of a successful hunt - gave chase, instinct burning at his center.

Will sense return to Tai'qdei before he catches Rayelle? Or will Rayelle be subjected to the yautja's natural inclinations?

And what happens afterwards?

----

Author's Note: I gave in after watching Prey 2022. lol

I'll be uploading this to Ao3 and Wattpad, as well.

CHAPTER CONTENT WARNINGS: Cultural differences lead to non-consensual touching and stripping. Forced tranquilizer usage, but not for sexual assault purposes.

---

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Rayelle’s chest heaved as she careened through the alien landscape, two moons dolefully watching overhead. Behind her, the raucous crashing and thumping stomps of something large breaking branches behind her. As she raced through the trees and half-tripped over unseen things in the underbrush, her brain worked tirelessly to make sense of the world around her.

The trees weren’t a solid trunk of bark and wood nor the leaves flat and green. Instead, the trees - in orange and red and magenta hues - were like huge braided vines, smooth and slippery looking, with drooping branches and spheres that were presumably fruits or leaves. Rayelle wasn’t sure which. The flora around her shared the same deep purple hue of the globules on the trees, which implied leaves to her. Here and there, she spotted a nocturnal bloom. Usually glowing with some sort of phosphorescence.  

If the flora wasn’t disorienting enough, the sounds of the world were worse. Around Rayelle, the sounds of life bubbled up around her, mostly in the distance. Buzzes and chitters and sounds that almost sounded familiar, but weren’t. Oh, they very much weren’t. Shadowy silhouettes scurried or flew away from her, but she couldn’t stop to make sense of them. Too many legs, too many eyes, too much of an odd shape that didn’t fit her mental encyclopedia of animals.

And still there was the ever present pounding footfalls and crashing behind her. No matter how she zigged and zagged or tried to lose her pursuer, they always sounded just a few steps away from snatching her up. 

Every time she thought they were close, that she was about to feel the large clawed hands wrap around her and yank her back, flashes of blood splattered through her brain. 

Bright red splashes, the squish of meat rending, the crunch of broken bones and cartilage, agonized screams and sobbing. All while she was cowering in that damned cage. Then, from the flickering darkness of the broken spaceship lights, a tall and broad figure appeared. Dripping in blood, dressed in black armor.

Chaos ensued, after they broke open the cage and snapped her chains. In the flickering lights, she threw something at the thing - her water dish, probably - and hurtled from her prison. Everything was a blur from there. She just ran, barreling her way down halls and ignoring the carnage until she found an exit and burst into cool, oddly heavy, night air. 

It had taken her a few seconds to realize she was somewhere completely alien. But the creaking of the spaceship as that armored thing followed her startled her into another flee. 

They were still pursuing her, through foreign terrain and mud and underbrush. Unless it wasn’t so unfamiliar to them. That thought made Rayelle’s stomach drop. 

No matter how painfully her lungs ached and her muscles cried, Rayelle could not stop running. Survival instincts drove her forward, pumping her full of adrenaline as she wildly looked for somewhere safe to hide.

Before such a thing could grace her awareness, her worst horrors became fact. 

A clawed hand snatched at the back of her shirt. A scream rent from her lips as her arms and legs flailed, making contact multiple times to something hard and fleshy but not creating any effect. Her back slammed into the cold damp ground, the air escaping her sore lungs, as a warm body dropped atop her. 

A single hand clamped around her wrists, pinning her easily to the ground. 

She threw herself forward and twisted in the creature’s grip. Her back arching, her feet trying to gain purchase on the ground to slide herself away. She might as well have been doing nothing. It barely made her captor struggle to keep her still.

The thing’s free hand went to her chest, their claws easily slicing the thin fabric. Rayelle jerked as she felt the cool air on her chest. Her desperation renewed as she violently struggled against the alien, needing to escape this situation. 

Her heart stumbled as a vibration reverberated from the figure above her. A growl?

For the first time since being caught, she turned her eyes tot he figure’s face. She stared, wide-eyed, into the mask of whoever - whatever - had caught her. An evil little voice reminded her they had killed her abductors earlier, too. Not a small feat.Even though she couldn’t see any copious amounts of blood, the iron tang still clung to the figure. It made Rayelle’s stomach churn. 

She almost forgot what the thing was currently doing - her brain filled with the blood-drenched memories - before she felt her shirt shift. It pushed away the sides of her torn top, baring her fully to the air. A whimper died in her throat as the alien’s clawed hands trailed down her front. The pinpricks of those dangerous fingertips traced firmly from her clavicle to her stomach, almost hard enough to scratch her.

It made her skin prickle in a confusing way. She gasped in a sharp breath, her back involuntarily arching under the touch.

The thing seemed to be appraising her. Which was nothing new. Rayelle had seen hundreds of aliens since being stolen from her home. Whatever the aliens were looking for, it seemed she couldn’t provide. 

And she hoped that would still be the case now. They were assessing her. That was it! Maybe they looked for injuries. 

But the longer the thing’s palm stayed on her, the more that hope dwindled. It stroked over her breasts and her eyes wrenched shut, still trying to convince herself it meant nothing. All the while, she tried to ignore how her body responded to the touches. Gooseflesh crawled over her skin and her nipples hardened and her stomach churned with a confusing warmth. 

A large clawed thumb ran over a puckering nipple and Rayelle choked back another whimper. Disgust fizzled in her stomach as she felt a growing heat, a telltale dampness start between her thighs. Traitorous body, Rayelle thought as she instinctively pressed her legs tightly together. But the creature caught the gesture, nudging their knee between her thighs. 

The hand moved lower, until it traced along the elastic waistband of Rayelle’s underwear. Her eyes snapped open, her upper body attempting to jerk forward, to break free as fresh terror bloomed in her head. But she barely moved. Its hold on her wrists was too strong.

Her sudden action caught the thing’s attention, their head cocking slightly. Its clawed finger slowed, its point catching on the fabric. There was a brief second when Rayelle knew  what was coming. Before she could even shake her head or issue dissent, the sound of tearing fabric shrieked through the air. It had yanked her underwear off with ease. 

A jolt shot through her body, suddenly aware of the strange planet’s ambient temperature and this thing’s too-close presence. Bare and vulnerable, a tremble arched through Rayelle. Her eyes wrenched shut as the thing - the alien, the creature - raised its hand to its mask. There was a hiss and it shifted, likely taking off the covering. 

She braced herself. For touches and unwanted penetrations or teeth and tongue and rending flesh. She didn’t know what to expect, other than the worst. Which was a toss up between being devoured or violated. 

Then it spoke. It was a series of clicks and guttural gnarls, reminiscent of the snarls and croaks of crocodiles to Rayelle. With effort, she swallowed, before forcing her eyes to open. 

She wished she hadn’t done that. 

The thing, the alien, was nothing she could have imagined, even as her brain scrambled to make sense of their features. Their skin ranged in color from a light yellow to burnt orange, textured like thick leather or tortoise flesh and speckled. Long tendrils - black near the head and fading to red at the tips - fell from the ridged structure on its head, which flared and rose into small ranges of horn-esque growths. 

It partly reminded Rayelle of a dinosaur, until she saw its mouth. 

Oh, the worst was its mouth! Four pincers - mandibles, maybe - with sharp curved ends guarded a smaller, lipless maw. A mouth filled with sharp teeth, ready to bite into flesh.

A whimper tore from her throat, her body instinctively pressing away from the strange creature, further into the gunk beneath her. Rayelle suddenly felt dizzy, the alien world around her spinning. Fear, shock, her breaking point. She wasn’t sure what was happening. 

Once more, her eyes closed and the alien clicked at her. But the sounds echoed through her head, sickeningly.

It nudged its knee against her sex again. Rayelle wildly wondered if it could feel the preparatory slick, the heat, and misunderstood. It took her brain another second to realize a warm bulge pressed against her thigh. What her brain understood as an erection pulsed against her leg and Rayelle gave another pitiful, choked sob. Tears burned at her eyes, forcing their way through her eyelashes until droplets dribbled down her cheeks. 

She had cried so much in the beginning, when she was first taken. When had she last cried? Days ago? Weeks? There was no way for her to tell. 

She had thought she’d simply run out of tears, having to deal with life in a cage until the next horrific living situation met her. Being poked and prodded, watching strange creatures come and go. Being fed tasteless slop and offered tangy tasting water. Most had stared. Some had touched her curiously, with touches ranges from gentle to harsh. 

None had seemed interested in fucking, which had been a relief. 

But it turned out the tears were just welling up inside her. And here, with Rayelle partially stripped and vulnerable, under this massive beast of an alien, was when they chose to come flooding out.

Another round of clicky growls issued, heavy on the gnarl. She didn’t answer. Didn’t think to answer. Her heart just pounded and the hot wet streams slid over her dirty cheeks. Rayelle choked as she felt the creature shift again. 

Thankfully, it was getting off of her. It still kept a firm hold of her wrists, pulling her up with it as it stood. Rayelle continued to whimper, unable to stop the flow of tears as she trembled. So enveloped by distress, she didn’t notice how the alien remained slightly bent, so as not to haul her feet off the ground when it got to its feet. With its other hand, it once again affixed the mask to its face, before hauling Rayelle bodily over its shoulder. 

Bent over the thing’s shoulder, strong arms locked against her lower back and behind her knees, shook Rayelle out of her misery. Desperation once again gripped her chest. Her shaking fingers balled up, slamming against the creature’s back as it began to move. 

Through her tears, she pounded at the creature’s armored back with her fists as her feet wildly kicked at its front, and she sobbed, “No!”

It was no use, though. Just riding along on its shoulder, Rayelle could sense how solid the creature was. They were solid muscle. The armor added another protective layer. Any hint of somewhere weak to strike would be fortified. Not that she could’ve caused any damage, in the state she was in. 

But she continued to flail, her begging cries becoming screams. A small part of her hoped that, maybe, if she made too much of a fuss, they’d just leave her. Too much of a hassle. Let her die on this alien planet. 

It was better than the alternative. 

A brief window of hope opened as the creature stopped. She felt its shoulders rise and fall with a sigh. Maybe it had worked. Maybe it was going to drop her and stride off into the night. It moved its arm away from her knees. 

Her heart sunk as she watched the creature’s free arm shift, the hand going to about where a belt would be. There was clicking, a beep, the hydraulic hiss of something opening. Something metal glinted in the moonlight.

Rayelle didn’t know what it was, what it would do to her. It was a cylinder of clear liquid with something metal on the end. Intuition told her it was like a syringe, a shot, a tranquilizer. She savagely squirmed and tried to shove away from the thing again, but the arm around her middle held tight. 

“No! Don’t!” The shriek came out involuntarily as she felt cold metal press against her thigh. A sharp pain sliced into her skin, aching and hot. She could feel the liquid invade her vein, cold and harsh. Her shriek became a wordless scream and, for a few seconds, she hysterically jerked and pulled and fought. 

Suddenly, the world started to melt around her. Her movements became sloppy, uncoordinated, before falling slack. Her screams dwindled into slurred yells, then drooling complaints, before she fell silent. She thought she felt the world shift under her. A barely coherent thought believed she was moving, it was moving again. 

Rayelle wondered what was going to happen now and if would she ever wake again, as darkness consumed her.

—-

After dressing the human in a shift left by a previous mate and depositing them into the brig,0 Tai'dqei tromped his way back to the cockpit. He wanted to suit out and shower first, but he needed to figure out what to do about this new development. Setting a new destination - the drop-off for his bounty - into the navi system, Tai’dqei sat back in his chair. 

Finding a human among the targets hadn’t been expected. He supposed he should have been more careful, given his targets traded in an assortment of things. Though Tai’dqei hadn’t heard of them pushing trafficking.

But if opportunities arose, that gang was sure to swipe it. It was a small solace that their heads and spines were now in his cargo hold, waiting to be cleaned and presented as trophies to his employer.

Tai’dqei’s mandibles tightened against his mouth and a small frustration rumble vibrated through his chest. Still, this caused concerns.

Where had the human come from? Earth? One of the colonies? Tai’dqei doubted they’d been born in captivity. There were a number of aliens that abducted humans - among other species - for the novelty of it. That had resulted in generations of humans, unaware of Earth and necessitating a rehabilitator. 

They had been well-fed, from Tai’qdei’s assessment. His hand flexed, remembering the feel of them beneath their palm. Soft and warm, no bones on display through the skin. Their flesh felt weak, easily pierced. 

Though he wasn’t sure what someone attracted to humans looked for in one. This one had large round pecs, too soft to obtain much muscle. There was a cinch in their middle, though they still had plenty of softness there, before they widened again at their hips. 

After touching them, Tai’qdei supposed he could see the appeal. He hadn’t seen many humans in his life, but most weren’t quite as cushiony as this one appeared. And their scent as he touched her had grown increasingly… curious.

Tai’dqei’s fingers curled into a fist as a sudden thought struck him. Had this been a blackhole job? The damned Thrittens had been advertising ‘time travel’ via blackholes recently and a couple had been on the bounty’s payroll. Wanton time hopping had caused an uptick in temporal crimes.

Tai’qdei couldn’t drop the human off just anywhere before. A human born in captivity was in need of rehabilitation. They would be taken advantage of or trafficked easily on a station. 

A human from the other side of the universe - even simply the solar system - could have completely different tech-translators than what was needed. An Earth-bred human was even more underprivileged. They usually only had tech-translators for their planets’ languages, not space travel. 

A human displaced from their own time? Unaware of technological advances and without something to translate alien language? Not even aware of historical developments?

Tai’qdei wasn’t even sure if there was a rehabilitator - or anywhere - equipped to deal with that. He had yet to hear of such an occurrence. 

All of that aside, there was another annoying thought biting at his mind for attention. 

He’d taken their scared fleeing as a mating initiation. In his trade, it wasn’t rare to find someone who wished to show their appreciation in carnal fashions. Not to mention, humans were some of the most pliable and enjoyable sex partners, if rumors were to be believed. And there were plenty rumors swirling around humans. 

Tai’dqei wasn’t one to pass up recognition, either. Yet, he hadn’t even taken time to consider why they’d been there. 

Removing his mask, Tai’qdei let out a growly sigh. A minor ache throbbed at the side of his face, a reminder to what caused his own mistake.

As soon as the human slammed that metal bowl against the side of his head and fled, he’d misinterpreted. His body had shot out of the spaceship, instinct driving his muscles and lurid excitement in his thoughts. 

A violent action followed by a chase were some yautja customs. Grab their attention, make them chase you - hunt you - so they could claim their prize. 

That was not necessarily the same for everyone, let alone other segments of his own species. Tai’qdei knew that. The high of a hunt accomplished - knowing the human had seen it and believing they had to be impressed by his skill and power - had blinded his logic, though. 

He wasn’t even sure if the human knew what he was. Even though they displayed such horror at Tai’qdei’s face, that didn’t translate to much. Many who knew what yautja were capable of feared them. Which they should. 

Irritation coursing through his veins, Tai’qdei shoved himself from the chair. He stalked to his training room, grabbing a spear as his tangled thoughts fought for attention. 

As he went through his forms, he tried to disseminate the problem. The first step was figuring out where the human came from. But wherever the human came from, they didn’t know how to communicate with Tai’qdei. No translator, no learning, nothing. And he couldn’t communicate back, since he relied on a Straux nano worm to translate.

It wasn’t rare for some of the more isolated colonies and outposts to not know or have translating mechanisms concerning yautja language. They often had out-of-date models with only the most prevalent languages. 

Which meant Tai’qdei needed a form of communication. From there, he could determine what the best course of action would be for the human. Options branched out in his head, but before he could explore too many, he slammed the butt of his spear to the floor. Closing his eyes, Tai’qdei took a deep breath. 

There was only one other he trusted enough to buy a translator from and to put it in the human’s head. The option made dread and anticipation swell up in his insides.

Tai’qdei made a low clicking growl, his eyes squinting open. Meeting with Ah’ke with mating instincts unsatiated was going to cause complications. He really shouldn’t wait, though. He didn’t know if the human could withstand the life support of his ship, didn’t know if they’d had any modifications done to them. The sooner he got this over with, the better. At least, that’s what he told himself. 

He sent a communication to Ah’ke, before placing his spear back on the rack and heading to the showers. Hopefully, cold water would cool the mating fire in his loins. Tai’qdei doubted it, but he could hope. 

#yautja #yautja oc #predator x human #monster fucker #exophilia #monster lover #alien x human #Rayelle #Tai'qdei #After researching yautja I have come to the conclusion #anything goes if you can explain it away #the canon is all over the place! #Did anyone catch the Straux mention? #lol #that's my original alien race - inspired by yautja ironically - from The Crew's Problem #:D

[soupandflowers]

School Dance - Day 1

Made a Tumblr solely for @hongiceweek!!! This is probably all what this will Tumblr contain. I have not written for in years and this is the first that I have so? Please be kind about it. It was really difficult for what I wanted the first half, not to mention I had to cut things out from what I originally planned from my outline. But, I definitely did had an easier time around the second half. Maybe it's noticeable. Or not. Anyways this is set in nation verse. Sorry for the late submission! I'll probably get this uploaded to AO3 when I have a proper account, but please enjoy it here. Tags: Iceland, Hong Kong, Seychelles, Liechtenstein, hurt/comfort, nationverse, school dance, idk how this works Also 3,432 thousand words woops The Gang Joins In a School Dance!

As the group strolls their way down the dusk streets of London, damp lawns are dotted with blooming flowerheads and the clouds reflect the skies’ gradient sunset colors above as if the neighborhood matched the group’s enthusiasm. The friends excitedly babble amongst themselves chatting about the evening that awaits them.

Well, save for Iceland. 

As the sounds of muffled music, dancing, and obnoxious teenagers grow near, Iceland doubts swell and he shoots one more look at Hong Kong, who coolly keeps a steady stroll. Now, Iceland trusts Hong Kong, that’s for sure, but what he isn’t sure about is this boy’s ability to abide by the law and not risk himself getting arrested for it, nevertheless to add his friends to the equation.

And added to the equation that Iceland himself has been unfortunately added to. When Hong Kong called and invited Iceland to a questionable plan, he shot down the idea. Determined to change his mind, Hong Kong had spent the next 10 minutes trying to persuade his best friend to go- in which proved to be ultimately ineffective. However, to his dismay, the rest of his Nordic brothers overheard the conversation and, sold by Hong Kong's idea, they too collectively pestered Iceland to go. Outnumbered, he reluctantly agreed.

Fast forward to now, his reluctance still hasn't changed. Iceland, who once again is wondering if this is the best way to spend his little free time, glances warily ahead at the chirpy other three, who are now all flaunting in their best attire. 

“Lili! Let me help you out with your bow!”, exclaims Seychelles as she trots behind a flustered Liechtenstein . Hong Kong chuckles in their direction as he strolls alongside them. Hong Kong is sporting one of his best suits from England, while Seychelles nearly trips over her glittery blue long-dress, Liechtenstein fiddles with her rose colored and frilly outfit and as for Iceland… he opted for his world meeting attire.

As they near the high school building, Iceland slows to a halt. At his pause- the rest of the group turns back to look at him in confusion.

"Okay, Leon, are you actually sure about this?", stresses Iceland. "Because getting me to come here is one thing, but do you have any idea how we're actually going to enter?"

Hong Kong only returns a puzzled look.

"I mean, surely these people would realize we’re not actually students, right? That they realize who we actually are and we’re not supposed to be here."

"Yeah and? That's fine.” Hong Kong turns and continues walking.  “The worst that happens is that we get turned away. We'll just find some other way to crash."

“What the hell do you mean “crash!?” Iceland catches up next to him with the girls following right behind them.  “If we get caught, our bosses are going to give us hell for intruding amongst humans, especially in a private event!”

“Um, he’s got a point..”, Liechtenstein timidly adds. Hong Kong shrugs and passes Iceland,  striding forward to the gym entrance.

"No- You can’t just waltz right in...” And then Hong Kong proceeds to waltz right in.

Iceland’s face scrunches in disbelief. He watches his best friend disappear into the crowd.

Seychelles, not wanting to miss out, takes Liechtenstein's wrist and brushes past Iceland, eagerly following Hong Kong’s lead.

Iceland was left dumbstruck and he stood there for a solid minute. 

Through the entrance, colored spotlights flash accompanied by blaring party music, as voices of mingling students contribute to the racket.

Iceland cringes warily at the immense atmosphere. He heaves a frustrated sigh and subsides into the crowd to find the others.

—

As Iceland navigates his way through the gym, the music is blaring in his ears and already he feels suffocated by the swarm of people around him. Not even too long into the event and he already feels like all the noise and lights is trying to burst his head open. Hoping to find a familiar face soon, he scans the room as he struggles his way through the crowd. Fortunately, he didn’t need to take very long.

To his left, he spots Liechtenstein in the corner- who is hovering by the food stand and warily looking amongst the party around her.

He pushes his way through the crowd and upon approach, Liechtenstein’s shoulders lowers in his presence. Iceland returns with a polite gesture and glances around Liechtenstein.

He raises an eyebrow, “Where’s Jaqueline? Weren’t you with her?” 

Liechtenstein blinks. “Oh, Jaqueline? We were together, but she got caught up in the crowd.. And then I couldn’t find her.”

“Really? I know she wanders off easily, but I didn’t think she would leave you behind like that.”

“I don’t think she meant to do so.”, she sighs. “But regardless I tried looking for her and I cannot find her…” Iceland places a reassuring hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Ah geez. Well, at the very least we can look for her together. In which.. have you seen Leon as well?” “Uhh..”, before she could begin her sentence their conversation is immediately interrupted by Seychelles bursting from the crowd, waving her hand up high and smiling and running up to the pair.

“Lili! Lili, Lili, Lili!”, smiles Seychelles. She runs up to her and takes both of her hands, holding it and starts apologizing profusely. “I am sososososooooo sorry for leaving you behind like that! I tried to find you but I got swept away and I was like freaking out because we got separated and I tried to asking others for help but there was this really mean group of boys who were so rude for no reason and then these girls came along and-” “Yo, Jaque!!”, shouts an unfamiliar voice. A teenage girl in a seafoam dress also emerges as well with 4 other girls trailing behind her. “Where did you go, and-”, Seafoam glances behind Seychelles. ”Oh my gosh, is this your friend who you were talking about? Oh my god she is so adorable!!”

Liechtenstein smiles nervously and blushes, as the other girls surround her and start showering her with compliments and questions about herself and her attire, as Seychelles looks proudly at her best friend. 

Meanwhile, Iceland is to the side watching the girls’ shenanigans unfold, unsure what to say, especially not when he didn’t understand the social manners of the opposite gender. 

He wouldn’t admit it, but seeing the girls interact and socialize with ease makes Iceland a little bit envious. People is something that Iceland has yet to figure out completely. 

“Oh!” Seychelles looks past the girls and finally notices Iceland. “I didn’t even notice you were there!” “Oh, uh- don’t worry about it, it’s fine”, shrugs Iceland, trying to play it off. Seychelles steers off from the group and trots towards Iceland. 

“I didn’t actually think you would come join.” “Well, I don’t know”, Iceland’s brow furrows. “I’m only here because I got dragged to it in the first place, alright? Otherwise, I wouldn’t know what else to do with my time.”

Seychelles grins and places a hand on Iceland’s shoulder. “Well, I’m sure happy that you decided to come along, Emil! It’s not very often that we get to hang out, do we?” “I guess so, but I’m still not very sure of this.” “About getting caught? I don’t think it’s been an issue so far.” “No, not that- well, yes, actually you’re not wrong about that but like”- he puts his hand on his chin. “I’m not used to events like these, especially with a lot of people at once.”

“Hm? But there’s always the world meetings and you’ve never had any issues with that?”

“That’s because I’m with my brothers. Outside of you, Lili, and Leon, the only people that I’ve interacted with were out of diplomacy- not for getting to know them.”

“Well…”, Seychelles smiles widen and her eyes meets Iceland’s. “Then why don’t we try helping you with that?”

“What?” Suddenly, Seychelles turns out and cups her mouth with her hands.

“HEY GUYS!!”, Seychelles calls out to her new profound friends who were exchanging accessories amongst each other. “COME MEET MY OTHER BEST FRIEND!!”

Iceland falters back and his face flushes in surprise. It also does not help that Seychelles sudden shouting has also drawn the attention of the other students. The group of girls run over and greet him enthusiastically.

Seychelles steps aside and proudly introduces him. “Like I said, this is my other best friend, Emil! He knows a lot about poetry, can read maps pretty well, and knows super awesome Norse stuff!” As the girls nod in response, Seychelles’ comments pique the interest of a girl in a yellow dress. “Ohhh, really? I study European history too! What do you know?”

Iceland rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, uh- for starters…”

The girls introduce themselves to Iceland and he exchanges the gesture in return. For a while, conversation and different topics ended up being thrown around in exchange, with Liechtenstein and Seychelles tuning in to the group. For someone not used to being surrounded by those unfamiliar to him, especially not all at once, Iceland finds himself starting to think that maybe it was not such a bad idea to come along after all. Although he can’t quite put his finger on it, there seems to be something missing.

Suddenly, the familiar tunes of obnoxious electronic beats and hip-hop come onto the speakers that Iceland and God knows that only one person can enjoy. He looks up to the far end of the gym.

Hong Kong has taken over the DJ System at the front of the stage. He has upped the blaring stage lights to flicker faster and has turned the volume to full max and is furiously headbanging to the terrible rap music that he has put on. He grabs a mic and fist-pumps it into the air. “LET'S HEAR IT FOR GROVELAND HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHHHH!!”

The audience uproars in response and their partying immenses. Seychelles and Liechtenstein beams and cheers at Hong Kong’s sudden takeover while Iceland stands there agape at what he is witnessing. 

What the genuine fuck??? wonders Iceland.

Hong Kong spots him in the crowd. They make eye contact. As Iceland's puzzled gaze meets him- Hong Kong only returns with a smirk.

Hong Kong points to Iceland in the crowd. “This next one goes out to my one and only man, Emil!!” 

And then Hong Kong proceeds to play a popular track from an Icelandic band. 

Hong Kong beams brightly at him from the stand, but Iceland can’t help but feel like a deer in headlights. As the other students turn to look at him, some staring and some giggling, Iceland can only stand there dumbfoundedly in embarrassment at the sudden turn of events against him. Nevermind that he was willing to give socializing a chance; he’s just been singled out with all eyes on him. 

Suddenly, Iceland nearly trips over himself as Seychelles drags him and Liechtenstein to the dancefloor, with the newly befriended teenagers joining in. As Iceland regains his balance, Seychelles takes Liechtenstein by the hands and they start dancing together. Liechtenstein is taken by surprise and her footing is off, but Seychelles guides her pacing and soon enough; they’re frolicking and laughing on the dancefloor. 

Iceland just blinks, who is once again unsure what to do next. As if the prom wasn’t overwhelming enough, being in the center of it only amplified it. His head is starting to throb. The music is blaring and it's a racket to his ears. The flickering of the lights have only grown more colorful and intensified. As everyone is jumping up and down around him, it’s already making him weary. He tries to exit the crowd, but someone shoves into him. They snarl at him. He apologizes, but he can barely hear himself over the noise.  

With this many things to process all at once, he is already weary. He hasn’t been here for that long, but Iceland feels so pathetic for getting so overwhelmed in a short amount of time. To give reaching out a chance, it’s something that he is no longer sure he’ll ever be able to figure out. Sure, that thought sounds irrational, but it’s a feeling he is unfortunately familiar with by now.

Then, he feels a familiar presence appear right beside him. 

“You okay?”, asks Hong Kong.

“Huh?”, Iceland slightly falters back and faces Hong Kong. The boy is giving him a concerned look. Realizing that Hong Kong was just on the stage only a couple of moments ago, he turns and squints up at the stage to see the former DJ handling the booth again. His look is frustrated as he figures out how to restore the original playlist. The DJ presses something and all of a sudden, the music amplifies even louder, causing Iceland to wince. From the look of the DJ, it is safe to assume it was an accident.

“I said, are you okay?!”, shouts Hong Kong. Iceland turns back to meet Hong Kong’s gaze and not wanting to look meek in front of his best friend, only responds with a weary nod and squeezes his eyes shut. Hong Kong shoots him a concerned look and grabs his hand, leading him through the crowd.

As Hong Kong navigates him, Iceland’s eyes are still squeezed shut and he presses his palm to his forehead. He squeezes Hong Kong’s hand and feels himself shuffling in between the party goers as they exit the crowd. As Iceland keeps his head down, he thinks about how stuffy the gym is and the mere embarrassment of his social progress only coming up short handed.

The noise gradually grows distant and he hears the opening of a door and shutting behind them. He opens his eyes and much to his relief, they’re back outside with the party now merely muffled behind him. The sun is long gone and it’s already dark. “Thanks”, mutters Iceland. At the warmth of the evening, he removes his coat. Hong Kong clasps his shoulder and steers them to a nearby bench under a tree. They both sit down. 

For a moment, it’s still between the two of them. Trying to pull himself back together, Iceland looks amongst the warm lights emitting from the windows of the neighborhood. The warm May breeze parts his hair. The only thing he hears is a distant family arriving home and the bare noise of the school gym.

Other than that, all is quiet, but it’s a pleasant contrast compared to where he was before. Iceland sags forward and rests his head on his fist. He glances over to Hong Kong who is studying him. He watches the street lamps turn on behind him. “Hey.” “Hm?” “Sorry about earlier.” “Ah. It’s alright.”

“Not really? Given the look on your face earlier.” “Well I mean, yeah, of course I wouldn’t enjoy being singled out like that.”, uncomfortable, Iceland looks the opposite way. “But it’s fine.” “Mmm..”, unsure what to say either, Hong Kong leans back against the bench. A moment of awkward silence sits between them.

Hong Kong breathes in. “I’m also really sorry for forcing you into this.” Iceland sighs. “No really, don’t worry about it. But, I’d think I’d rather just stay out here. Don’t you have a party to go back to?” “Sure, I guess, but what’s the point if you’re not even there?” “Huh?” Iceland looks back at Hong Kong, whose arms are now sprawled on the top part of the bench and his eyes are apathetically staring ahead. “Like, I wanted to hang out with you again. Lili and Jaque are easy to pull in, but it’s been a couple of months since I’ve last seen you. Excluding the calls,” Hong Kong nudges Iceland’s arm with the back of his hand. “I’ve missed you, man.” Iceland’s brow furrows. Great. Now he feels like a jerk for even complaining in the first place. 

Socializing has never been his forte, but for the past few months, he’s brought himself further away from the rest of the world, secluding himself to the Nordics and the occasional foreign nation for diplomacy, but besides that, he never realized it and it was for reasons he was unsure why.  Now, he is dealing with the pang of guilt of realizing that upon his negligence, his friends have been missing him.

Iceland was unsure how to respond, but Hong Kong seems to have already read his mind. “I thought sneaking into some high school prom would help get you back out there. After all it’s just a bunch of teenagers, who are like, waaaay less serious than adults. In which you have been spending all your time around with.”, Hong Kong jokes, but returns back to his concerned demeanor. “But I guess I thought wrong and it upset you. It didn’t work out.”, Hong Kong sighs. “I apologize.” “No..”, Iceland glances back. “You did your best. I can tell you at the very least, you’ve gotten some success.” Iceland gives his friend a lighthearted grin, who returns with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “Watcha mean?” “I mean, more like Seychelles had more success. Have you seen her? I don’t know how she did it, but she managed to befriend like 5 or so people within like 15 minutes.” Iceland chuckles. “Suddenly, her friends were swarming Lili and then she redirected them towards me, all of them asking about Iceland and history and stuff like a swarm of Puffins and a Herring!” Hong Kong’s grin widens. “Really? I thought I was irrational, but I’m starting to think she is like, way more impulsive than me.” Iceland gives him a light punch on the shoulder. “You still called me out and played fucking Icelandic rock. What the hell is wrong with you, man?” “Hey, I’m still sorry about that.” “Even then, how the hell did you even get up there? I swear to God, there was some guy before and he was not you.” “Gift from Alfred to Matthew to me, the guy’s got like serious fireworks.” “You brought fireworks!?” “Ehhh, just a small one. Got the guy distracted long enough for me to take over.” “You’re so fucking stupid.” “I know.” They both grin at each other and they burst out laughing. As the crickets begin to overtake the grasses and early birds residents dim their lights off for the night, the laughter of two, flawful boys fill their air. Maybe Iceland can’t get around to understanding people just yet, but even then, as Iceland watches Hong Kong’s smile grow, he at least realizes how much people would be willing to try to understand him. Ironically, for that alone, is all that needs his knows to willingly take the first step in reconnecting again. And Hong Kong seems to be his first step. Iceland couldn’t imagine any better option. Abruptly in the distance, a door slams open and the boys whirl their direction back towards the school. They see Seychelles and Liechtenstein bolting out of the gym with a group of teachers sprinting after them. Back at the gym entrance, the students are gathered and the peaceful night air is interrupted by collective howling and cheering for the girls.

“RUN!!! RUN!! THEY’VE FOUND US OUT!!!”, Seychelles screams at the two and the girls run past them. The boys immediately got up and started sprinting after the girls. “Nevermind, I think Jaque is more stupid!!”, shouts Iceland. They both crack a smile and they both burst into another round of laughter as Seychelles yell at the both of them. Despite currently being chased, Iceland feels everyone’s spirits high and he laughs louder with Hong Kong beside him. Then, they run off into the night.

#hetalia #aph hetalia #hongice #aph iceland #aph hong kong #aph liechtenstein #aph seychelles #hetalia fanfiction #fanfic #hongice week #hongiceweek2024 #seyliech

[softguarnere]

For Whatever We Lose

Lewis Nixon x OFC (slow burn, enemies to lovers) Chapter One: Greenly's Girls

Summary: “We have a problem,” Keziah whispers as soon as they’re out of earshot. “We always have a problem.” A/N: Hi! Hello! And welcome to the fic that's been living rent-free in my brain since last March! (Although at this point, I think Minerva actually owns the building and I'm paying rent to her.) The end of LAGLAM is fast approaching, and to avoid being completely heartbroken once it's finished, I figured that I would start uploading what I already have of this fic. We have more Indigenous OCs and more North Carolinians - because my writing is nothing but a vessel for tricking people into caring about those things. I'll put a link to AO3 on the masterlist in case anyone wants to look at those endnotes for any of my silly little references, explanations, or insights. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! And let me know if you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters 💙 Warnings: none

Camp Toccoa, 1942

In, two, three!

After all these months, the sound that her boots make against the rocks and the clay as she runs are still unfamiliar to her – something foreign that reminds her that she is worlds away from home.

Out, two, three!

Heavier footsteps pound the ground behind her, sounding closer than ever. Sheets of sweat coat her body. She’s drenched. If Jack were here, he would probably say that she looks like a wet rat – affectionately, of course.

In, two, three!

Three miles down is supposed to be the easy part. Making sure she doesn’t bust her ass along the downward slope isn’t that simple. For once she isn’t holding herself back as she soars down the mountain. Today, she’s free to fly.

Out, two three!

A muttered curse behind her as her opponent stumbles. If she weren’t so focused on her breathing, she would huff a triumphant laugh. As it is, she’s got to make sure that she pushes herself to the limit in this final stretch – anything to stay ahead.

In, two, three!

A few people are waiting at the bottom of the trail, trying not to look like they’re waiting around to see how this turns out. Sunlight gleams off the bars of one of the officers as he joins the small crowd. Good. She wants them watching when she beats one of their own.

Out, two, three –

She skids to a stop, managing to stay upright. Breathing techniques and careful timing fly out the window the second she sees everyone’s faces and realizes that she did it – she won! Unofficial as the race was, she managed to beat the lieutenant from Dog Company, just like she knew that she could. Just like she knew she could beat anyone on the trail if she gave herself the opportunity to open up and soar without holding back. Blending in be damned.

She catches sight of Keziah’s smiling face in the sea of men. She allows a laugh to escape her, but she’s breathing so heavily that it disguises itself as more of a heavy exhale. Well, that’s fine; it seems more sportsmanlike – more ladylike – if she doesn’t laugh in the midst of her own triumph.

“Congratulations,” the lieutenant from Dog Company says from behind her. She turns to face him. He’s smiling. Which might just be because of all the people watching them, but he’s smiling, and it actually reaches his dark eyes; genuine enough. “Congratulations, Private . . . er – “

“Revels,” she replies. She offers him a salute. He is an officer, after all, and it seems the appropriate thing to do. “Private Minerva-Jane Revels.”

The lieutenant sticks out his hand to shake. He’s got a strong grip. “Lieutenant Ronald Speirs,” he says.

Mutters and whispers break out in the crowd behind them. Lieutenant Speirs has just been beaten in the run up and down Currahee – by a girl! And not even during PT! More than just the enlisted have seen it, too. The other officer in the crowd, with his bright crop of gingery hair, was here to witness the results.

Keziah steps forward then, locking her fingers around Minerva’s elbow and gently tugging her away from Lieutenant Speirs. She offers her own polite smile to him, and then she leads Minerva away from the crowd, both of them with their heads held high.

“We have a problem,” Keziah whispers as soon as they’re out of earshot.

“We always have a problem.”

The short laugh that Keziah pushes out doesn’t soften whatever news she’s about the deliver. Tall and athletic with a face that is both pretty and expressive, something is lurking just beneath the mask of pride that she’s wearing for the crowd – danger lurking beneath the depths of the water.

“But today it’s tangible,” Keziah says. “Order of the day is for all women to dress in their ODs and stand fast in the barracks.”

Stand fast in the barracks? “No morning PT?”

“They told us we can’t even go to breakfast until they come for us.”

Minerva stops in her tracks. That sounds like they’re being held prisoner. Or like they’re being held in one place for an announcement – or a sendoff.

A few paces in front of her, Keziah stops and looks back at her. Minerva has to quicken her pace to catch back up with her friend’s quick strides.

“That’s all I know,” Keziah says before Minerva can ask anything. “But it doesn’t sound good, does it?”

“I doubt that they’re rounding us all up just to congratulate us on what a good job we’ve been doing.”

Keziah snorts. “Even though that’s exactly what they should be doing.”

They reach the women’s barracks then. Voices, talking quickly and quietly, can only just be heard through the door. They pause the second that Minerva throws the door open. Eight worried faces turn to look at her, their expressions frozen in varying degrees of anger and expectancy.   

Eight, ten counting she and Keziah. It’s enough to make a person want to laugh and to cry all at once. Upon first arriving at Camp Toccoa, way back when it was still Camp Toombs, there had been one hundred or so women who had been recruited to try their luck with the Airborne. Slowly but surely, the army had weeded out those deemed mentally and/or physically unfit to join the elite ranks who would earn the privilege of calling themselves paratroopers. Down to a measly ten. Eleven, if you count Lieutenant Greenly, whose absence is being greatly felt while she’s off being trained to become Captain Greenly.

“Oh. It’s just you,” Lori sighs before throwing herself down on her bunk.

All at once, the spell is broken. Minerva and Keziah fully enter the bunk house, closing the door behind them. The murmuring resumes.

“You heard anything?” Anita asks as Minerva passes.

She opens her footlocker, acutely aware that the whispering has died down again as a few glances are thrown her way. Best to be casual. Taking off her PT clothes and tugging on her ODs, she throws a casual, “No. Why would I have?” over her shoulder.

A loud snort emits from somewhere behind her, followed by Anna’s voice. “Because you know everything.”

Back still turned, Minerva smirks to herself. Well, if they want to think that, let them.

“Not everything,” Lori insists, always ready to humble anyone and everyone. “Clearly she doesn’t know about this.”

“Whatever this is,” Diana mutters. Her words startle Minerva, but she seems to be the only one. She only even heard her because her fellow North Carolinian is sitting on the bunk across from her, just close enough for her quiet voice to be heard.

Keziah takes a step forward, towards Lori. “But she could.” She throws a glance at Minerva, her eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. “I mean, you could . . . right?”

“Isn’t our order of the day to stand fast in here?”

“Yeah, but they have to let us out at some point,” Juanita points out. “I mean, don’t they?”

If and when they get out of the bunkhouse, Minerva is confident in the fact that she can get at least some answers. Crumbs, rumors, anything – she can manage it. At this point, she feels obligated to. After all, it would appear that she has something of a reputation to uphold. Nothing new there.

With all the confidence she just acquired from beating Lieutenant Speirs up Currahee on full display, Minerva offers them all a solemn nod. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Lori snorts. It probably goes against everything she learned from her refined upbringing, all those tutors and fancy schools she loves to brag about. But the noise draws everyone’s attention back to her.

Far from put down, it only makes Minerva more determined to find out what she can, just to prove Lori wrong. There’s a certain satisfaction that comes from being able to prove her kind incorrect.

An hour later, someone fetches them for breakfast. Sunlight blinds them as they exit the bunkhouse. Most of the men are already in PT or classroom instruction, which gives the camp a feeling similar to that of a ghost town as the ten women march through it. Those few men who still linger stop to stare at them.

“You think that’s a bad sign?” Bianca whispers to no one in particular.

To be fair, the men are always staring at them. Their tendency to gawk tells them nothing about their precarious fate.

The mess hall is empty when they arrive. The cooks call out to them in greeting, the first faces that have looked happy to see them all morning. As they move through the line, each woman carefully arranges her face in a smile and thanks them for the food – something that Minerva suggested during their first week at the camp. Most of the girls hadn’t been willing to make eye contact with the cooks as they received their food. Now, though, they’ve been set apart from the men, carrying a reputation for being polite. And if the cooks are secretly saving them the best rations, well, that’s just a positive and unintended side effect.

 Across the table from her, Bianca sighs through her nose as she pokes her eggs with her fork. Best rations doesn’t necessarily mean good rations; correlation does not imply causation, and all that.

“What’s wrong, Mancini?” Minerva nudges the New Yorker’s knee under the table. “Not up to your standards?”

Bianca shovels a forkful of eggs into her mouth, keeping her head down so no one can see her wrinkle her nose and she chokes down the slimy, bland eggs. “Not my ma’s cooking, by any means.”

“No kiddin’,” Anna agrees. “I joined the Army because I heard it’d get me three meals a day. But sometimes I think it would be more appetizing just to flat starve.” She pinches the driest piece of toast that Minerva has ever seen between her fingers and holds it up for inspection. Even the slight rush of air from her mouth as she talks causes the bread to flake like psoriasis. “I miss my Papa’s biscuits.”

She’s not wrong. The breakfast isn’t exactly the Fisherman’s Favorite that Minerva’s mom whips up every morning. Scrambled eggs – real eggs, not this powdered crap – and hashbrowns, some bacon, and one of Pop’s famously fluffy biscuits fresh from the oven, still oozing with butter as he passes out the jam to spread on top of them. Despite the food in front of her, the memory is enough to make Minerva’s mouth water.

“The cooks are doing their best,” she concedes. And at least they like us enough to not spit in our food or dump salt in our coffee, she doesn’t add.

With everyone preoccupied with their questionable meal, Minerva stands and makes for the door.

“Where are you going?” Anita asks.

“Bathroom,” Minerva lies, never looking back at the other women as she excuses herself.

Once outside and sure that none of the others have followed her, Minerva charges off – in the direction opposite the latrines. In no time flat she finds herself behind a building that looks just like all the others, the only sign of its importance being the words REGIMENTAL HQ on the front by the door.  

At the back of the building, in the shadows, a graceful figure with dark hair is leaned back against the wall with a cigarette held between middle and forefinger. As Minerva approaches, a pack of Lucky Strikes is produced, and another cigarette provided.

Minerva has never smoked – her mother would kill her – but this is the system that they operate under. Something about two women having a smoke and a casual chat doesn’t seem as suspicious as a WAC secretary and an aspiring paratrooper talking behind a building. Still, Minerva holds the cigarette away from her after it’s lit, wrinkling her nose at the smell.

Joyce does the same, her pretty red lipstick twitching up in a smile as she watches her. “A shame that neither of us smokes. We’ll have wasted so many cigarettes by the end of the war.”

“Well, hopefully our service will make up for it,” Minerva says slyly. She glances at Joyce out of the corner of her eye just in time to see the other woman’s red lips purse. Uh oh. Minerva flicks her cigarette, trying to tap the ashes off the end like she’s seen other people do. Instead of looking casual, it makes her hand look shaky, nervous. “Anything . . . to share?”

There’s a moment of silence as Joyce glances around. She cannot take any chances about being overheard. She came to Toccoa from Atlanta as a WAC, and her superb handwriting and fingers that fly over a typewriter quickly propelled her up to headquarters. Taking notes for the likes of Colonel Sink has given her a distinct advantage over others, putting her in the know, and luckily for Minerva, she doesn’t keep all that knowledge for herself. After bonding with Minerva over their mutual disdain of Southern humidity and the indecisive policies regarding the Airborne’s female recruits one day in the line for lunch, the two became quick friends and confidants. Minerva is careful with any bits of information that Joyce gives her, any snatches of gossip. Being in the know gains you some advantage in life, especially in a place like this. But protecting your sources – protecting your friends – is more important than having your peers think that you know everything.

Finally, Joyce sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Something horrible has happened.”

Something horrible. Well, that’s not exactly promising. But it does explain why they’ve been stuck in the bunk house all morning.

“Sink thinks – “ Joyce lowers her voice even more so that Minerva has to lean in to hear her whisper. “Sink thinks that it was an act of sabotage, someone who’s mad about women joining the army. Several others agree.”

“Are we being sent home?”

Joyce’s sky-blue eyes widen. “Good golly, wouldn’t you think? But no. If anything, it’s made Sink even more determined to continue with this Great Experiment of his. I’ve been taking notes and typing letters all morning. No, you girls are staying. In fact, you’re about to be thrown into the fray – start training for real, with a purpose.”

For months Minerva and the other women have been playing a sort of softball with the army. Their fate has been up in the air, they haven’t been used, and none of their training has been with any real sense of urgency. According to Joyce, things are about to change. Minerva should be thrilled. But something horrible happened to bring this all about. What was it?

“That’s all I should say,” Joyce says. She tosses down her unsmoked cigarette and grinds it out under her high heel. “Oh, Mina, I really hope that things will work out for you and the other girls!”

Minerva takes the typist’s hand and squeezes. “They will, if I have any say in the matter. I didn’t come all this way for nothing.”

“Between you and the colonel, I think that the stars will have to align to your will.”

“Thanks, Joyce.” Minerva grinds out her own cigarette and takes off in the direction of the mess hall. “I’ll see you later!”

The other women are just finishing up breakfast when she returns. The toast on her plate has not aged well in the few minutes that she’s been away, but Minerva eats it anyway, despite the dry, flaky texture. It’s a good thing that other people watching her eat doesn’t make her uncomfortable; all eyes are on her as she chokes down the coffee from her cup, trying to return any sense of moisture to her mouth after the toast dried it out. None of the girls – except Keziah – particularly like her unless they know that she has information that they want. For the second time this morning, they watch her expectantly.

At least they have the decency not to bring it up until they’re in the relative safety of the bunkhouse. Once the door is shut, they all pounce at once, throwing a million questions her way.

Jack once referred to Minerva’s seemingly endless patience as her “teacher mode.” Growing up with John-Michael’s endless questions about anything and everything and then dealing with children in a classroom all day has given her plenty of practice. She sits on the edge of her bed and waits for them to settle down.

“We’re not being sent home,” she announces when they finally wear themselves out. “Our training is about to begin in full. A decision has been made.”

A few of the girls cheer. Juanita and Anna share a high-five. Others, mainly Lori, look skeptical.

“What made them finally decide that the ten of us deserve to be paratroopers?” the heiress demands.

Minerva can only shrug. “I don’t know. But – “

“Ha! You don’t know? That’s not too promising.”

Minerva bites her bottom lip, counts to ten. She takes a deep breath and tries to speak again when the door of the bunkhouse opens, stealing everyone’s attention.

The effect is immediate. All ten women are on their feet, backs straight, chins up, mouths shut as Colonel Sink himself steps into the bunkhouse. He surveys them, and if they weren’t all staring straight ahead, maybe they would notice a hint of a smile hiding under that famous moustache of his.

“At ease, ladies,” he says. When they relax, he gets straight down to business. “Girls, there’s no easy way to tell you this, so I’ll come right out and say it before the rumor mill gets ahold of it: Captain Greenly is gone.” Something horrible has happened, Joyce had said. Colonel Sink thinks it was an act of sabotage. “She died this morning after her chute failed on a training jump.”

Gasps from around the room. Bianca crosses herself. At her sides, Minerva’s nails dig into the palms of her hands as she tries to hold back all the four-letter words that flash through her mind.

Greenly, in the short time that they had known her, had been good to them. Inspiring and authoritative all at once. She had known when to encourage them and when to push them to their limits. More importantly, she had been one of them – an advocate for their cause, but part of their struggle all the same. And now she’s gone.

After the initial shock, Sink presses forward. “Frankly, I don’t think what happened was an accident. And I don’t know about you, but it makes me all the more determined to prove that you girls are perfectly capable of being part of the best goddamn regiment that the army has to offer! Which is why tomorrow morning the ten of you will become the newly minted Women’s Squad of Easy Company.”

Easy Company. Minerva tries to place them in her mind, only to come up empty. Not Speirs’ company, unfortunately. At least there they’d have a friend. Well, she would have someone she already knew, anyway.

“Easy Company has the best record in the regiment. Their captain believes in training and training hard, which is why I would like for him to take over training you ladies; we’re going to make sure you’re ready to fight the Germans when you fall out of that sky.

“As for logistics. Captain Greenly’s death has left a void that will need to be filled. I’ve already selected a promising young woman who will be going through OCS to replace her. In the meantime, two of you have college degrees. I am going to appoint you as sergeants, for now, and perhaps after the dust settles, we can get you a bar for your collars. At the moment, I would rather you be able to act as leaders to your fellow women and as liaisons with the officers in Easy Company while we get things sorted out.”

Two college graduates. Two sergeants. All eyes not so subtly flick in Lori’s direction. Since they got here, not a day has gone by that they haven’t heard about her time at Vassar College. But no one else has mentioned going to college. Weary glances fill the room as ten women eye each other with suspicion. Who else will be their other sergeant?

As if he hasn’t dropped a bombshell of information on them, Colonel Sink checks his watch. “Well, girls, I wish there was more time. I have a meeting to get to. Getting a mess this big sorted out doesn’t happen in just a few minutes, you know. I wish you all the best of luck.” He stops in the doorway and smiles at them, so wide that his moustache can’t hide it. “Currahee!”

“Currahee!” They all return, albeit a little dazed.

The door shuts and they’re eyeing each other again, trying to figure out who’s been keeping secrets.

“Obviously Lori,” Anita says. “Who else went to college?”

“And why has no one talked about it?” Juanita wants to know.

Beside Minerva, Keziah snorts as she mutters, “Probably because nowhere could possibly be as glamorous as wherever Lori went.”

No one will fess up, despite the fact that it’s all anyone talks about on the way to lunch, or on the way back from lunch, or on the way to classroom instruction later in the day. Minerva herself even joins them in making a list of possible candidates, although, if she’s being honest, there are few who anyone would care for as a sergeant. Too bad that she knows for a fact that Keziah never went to college; she has a feeling that she would be a hell of a leader – not to mention that it would make her grandfather proud.

They’re walking to the mess hall for dinner when a man that Minerva doesn’t recognize pulls her aside and tells her to follow him. No one seems to notice her departure, although part of her wishes that they had.

The man leads Minerva to a building that she’s never been inside of before and escorts her to an office. Inside, behind the desk, a darkhaired man sits as proudly as a king on a throne as he flips through papers in a file. In front of the desk, a small woman with caramel hair and wide eyes turns to face Minerva, looking just as shocked as she is. Before Minerva can voice her surprise, the man behind the desk notices her.

“Ah, Miss Revels,” he says, something that’s not quite a smile stretching his thin lips. “It would appear that you’ve been holding out on us.”

#finally! #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #my writing #lewis nixon x ofc #band of brothers oc #band of brothers x ofc #for whatever we lose #oc minerva revels

[toluene-sister]

Hiiiii. I'm back.

Maybe someone here still remembers me, if you do, please give me a holler~ I took down all my fics a while back because I was ✨️going through things✨️ and many people reached out to me about it, which I really, really appreciated ❤️ But the universe works in mysterious ways, and now I'm here, years later, reuploading & rewriting everything because apparently I need to start doing things just for the hell of it. So this is me doing just that.

The link to my Ao3 is in my bio, I've already reuploaded all of the Dissolve & Absolve series, also there's a few refreshed chapters of LISMBWYD. I'll be reuploading those gradually as I'm rewriting the shit out of it.

I'll probably upload some art too, maybe some old stuff (even though I hate most of it), but I might do some sketches now and again.

It's been so many years I'll probably be just screaming into the void here, but whatever, it's good to be back ❤️

#batman x joker #batjokes #batman #the dark knight

[optiwashere]

Since I'll be taking a break from posting new fic next week after Smutmas is finished (and probably the week after?) that'll probably be the time when I start uploading those prompt fics into a collection-style fic.

So if you see a big pile of words you think you recognize, it's because I want those up on AO3 too!

#random rambling about writing #anotheropti prompt fics #<- they're all in that tag btw #I normally don't like multi-ship collection style fics but I already have a ton of one shots and these are all so small #so I'd like to keep them compiled in one place #also I specify posting new fic because do you really think I'm gonna stop WRITING lol