#it's a two-way communication and i'm fucking ready to offer whatever i can do

[amywritesthings]

Love your fic love, it's the best one I've ever read. Could you do something from Levi pov when he started realising he liked Reader and he felt about that?

first of all, thank you for such lovely words! i'm so happy you like it. second of all, i can certainly write you a levi pov where he had his 'oh shit do i like her?' moment xo

all at once. / levi ackerman x f!reader

word count: 900 warnings: language, levi pov set in the silver underground universe

( read on ao3 here )

Furlan had a funny saying about the people he fell head over heels for.

It happens slowly, he once told Levi.

The two of them were sitting around their newly-bought two-bedroom apartment, comically vacant and egregiously filthy.

With his long legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle, Furlan chose to sink his palms into the dust to tattoo his fingerprints. 

To say he was there.

(I was here. I am here.)

Levi chose a more civilized position — sitting backwards on one of the only two chairs they had in this place, his sleeved forearms folded over each other on its curved back. He peered down at his friend with the utmost curiosity, head hung under a curtain of black fringe.

“The hell’s this question coming from?” Levi grunted as he shifted his shoe on the floor.

Fucking disgusting; he wasn’t going to sleep tonight if the entire apartment ended up being this damn dirty. 

“What do you mean?” Furlan asked. "Which topic?"

“The topic of this,” Levi clarified, “and why you’re so interested in who I may be looking at on the streets."

"What, we can't gossip?"

The way Levi's brow quirked said otherwise. Furlan sighed.

"We're roommates now."

"So?"

"So?"

"I don’t think I asked who you're interested in, Church.”

“No, you didn’t,” Furlan hummed happily with a dopey smile on his face. “But now that we have this place with two whole bedrooms to ourselves, we have the luxury of inviting people over. Think about it: two young and handsome bachelors, ready to take on the—”

“Wait, invite people over?” Levi interrupted, brow rising. “This isn’t a community house. It's headquarters.”

“No, I know."

"Do you?"

"Yeah! But like I said, think about it: now that we’re taking names and carving our own legacies down here, I’m sure plenty of people will think we’re great. Maybe we'll even get some kinda group of admirers for our efforts.”

“Doubtful.”

“Aw, c’mon, Levi,” Furlan pouted. “Don’t you like anyone? There’s that one guy with the tattoos over on second street.”

“No.”

“Or the dark-haired girl who always seems to give you a discount on soups.”

“Not happening.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

Furlan blinked.

The black-haired boy felt his temper — and embarrassment — rising.

“Because I wouldn’t know what the fuck it feels like to like someone like… that.”

Levi grit the truth between his teeth, hating the honesty that came with this ridiculous conversation. 

The Underground City doesn't quite offer anything real. Down here love was transactional. There wasn't room for emotional error.

He saw what it did to his mother.

He saw how it molded whatever the fuck he’d call Kenny.

Bottom line was that feelings weren’t good.

And then there was Furlan, looking at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Well, when you realize there's something about someone, it's slow,” the ash-blonde boy suggested, nodding with encouragement. “From my understanding, liking a guy, girl, person, whatever — it happens slowly, then all at once.”

“How’s it slow?”

Furlan smiled, knocking his feet side to side against the wooden floorboards.

“Probably because the people you actually like are kinda in the background until they aren’t anymore.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Levi echoed. "You're supposed to be attracted to them first."

"That definitely helps, but that's like... lust or whatever," Furlan challenged. "I'm talking about liking someone. Wanting to hold hands or be with them so you can listen to them talk all the time and never get bored of what they're saying."

Levi scoffed, turning his chin sharply to the right as he considered.

Slow, then all at once.

Except it was never slow.

It would’ve been really fucking helpful if it had been.

You’d been ready to rip his throat open all those years ago.

No one had ever gotten the jump on him the way you had. No one would ever come close.

Maybe watching your fights after Kenny dropped him for reasons unsaid had been the slowest part about this. Watching your sweat-streaked face as you caught your breath in the midst of folding someone double your size like it was nothing. Listening to your voice in the alleyway when you spoke to that witch of a woman. Conjuring up an excuse to talk to you, to see if you even remembered—

It’d been all at once from the very beginning.

Someone as fleeting as a ghost had haunted his once dreamless sleep.

Hell, you still did.

“Sounds like you got someone in mind.”

His gray eyes darted back to Furlan, instantly on the defensive.

The other boy sported a goofy smirk. Levi scowled.

He could tell him.

He could ask if the way his throat closed up whenever he so much as considered uttering her name was a sign that he was head over heels.

That sometimes it wasn’t slow, but as fast as a blow to the damn head.

That sometimes liking a stranger felt more powerful than anything he'd ever known.

“Nah,” Levi lied, surging from his seat to stand at full height. “Only thing I’m interested in is cleaning this piece of shit up. I’m not sleeping on cobwebs tonight, so get up, grab a broom, and help.”

James.

Maybe one day he’d face it; liking someone.

Really, genuinely, devastatingly wanting someone.

But he couldn’t afford it.

(Maybe one day.)

#attack on titan fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman fanfiction #snk fanfic #snk fic #aot fanfic #aot fic #levi ackerman fanfic #silver underground #aot drabbles

[llycaons]

ep50 (2/4): family time - tying up loose ends and revealing secrets

aw man :( he clearly wants to, so badly. I'm really heartened by this, actually. jc telling him not to go will only work for so long, and jl has always been rebellious. he loves wwx. I think he's gotten over a lot of his embarrassment about showing him that, too. and wwx has been freed from a lot of the guilt associated with jzx's death, so I imagine he'll be even more ready to interact. they have a relationship waiting for them in the future. that warms my heart more than almost anything else in the finale

this scene is so gorgeous. I don't care that it's full summer out there, right now it's autumn and that's relevant metaphorically! season of change, season of death, season of endings. a beautiful season

jc is mocking wen qing's last words and wwx's advice, but the thing is...yes. yes. if he wants a relationship with wwx, there's going to be pain to work through. there's going to have to be forgiveness too, on both sides. there's going to have to be gratitude. that's what it means to be two imperfect human beings who care about each other in an flawed world. and that's true for anyone jc could want to have a relationship with, not just wwx. if he persists in this, he's dooming himself to isolation

have I mentioned I love jin ling

ah, l Iove this shot. the raised hand, the threat. but he doesn't hit jin ling. I mean, it's indicated he hadn't really before either, but the framing makes it significant. this is a change. these things will fall away and be gone. the tone for this scene is so melancholy

jin ling's persistence ♥♥♥♥ him never shutting up might be a significant factor in their reconciliation. also, the other translation said 'bullshit' instead of 'lies' for his next line. I like that better. let jin ling say bullshit!!!

oh god, I'd almost forgotten. it's such whiplash to be thrown 20 years, 35 episodes into the past. months in real time. but what happened back then still matters, it still impacts the characters in the present. and jc, for once in his life, acted completely selflessly for wwx. he offered himself in wwx's place. and for all the things he held over wwx's head, he never, never brought it up to him. fuck

this is such a gorgeous shot

believe it or not, I only cried once this episode and it was here. MAN. the complicated relationship, the love and grief and bitterness and anger. the single tear. the well-wishing to someone too far gone to hear it. I'm proud of him for this. it's real growth. now if they'd only communicate...

I've seen posts positing that wwx's ending isn't actually a happy ending and in fact he truly wanted to just stay with jc, but I find those narrow-minded and simplistic. he misses LP terribly and of course he cares about jc, but the story is about moving forward, about moving onward and recovering despite the terrible things that happen. wwx needs to heal, and he needs to do it somewhere where he'll be allowed to flourish, and that certainly can't be with jc or at LP. there's been too much between them, and jc isn't ready for it

I also think it's complicated. I think you can want something, or miss something, while knowing it's not the right choice for you. if jc offered his position back to him at that very instant, I don't think wwx would have taken it. I also don't think wwx needs any one thing to be 'truly' happy, whatever that means. I don't think any one thing could guarantee it. I don't think true, uncomplicated, perfect existential happiness even exists, not in the way it's described in those posts. I think the wwx of 20 years ago and the wwx of the present day are at different point in their lives, and they need different things. I don't even think wwx's only or most important goal is his own happiness. but we do know that he likes being with lwj, that lwj supports and protects him, that he's closer now with lwj than probably with anyone else, that they trust each other mutually, that he left with lwj, and it's with lwj he wanted to stay.

speaking of which...

I do think he's happy, here. playing with his flute was something he did as a careless young master, and it's nice to see that innocent playfulness back

he's so excited to hear what lwj had to say...he probably thought lwj would confess (finally) and then seeing lzx and wen ning like UGH 🙄 always getting in the way of my lwj time, those two

I was such a mess first watching this. cried like a baby

HAPPY TEARS FOR WWX!!! FINALLY!!!!

LMAO. immediately after lwj is like 'you taught him too 🥰' he says this

oho! I have previously dismissed lsz as rather boring, but he does indeed have a rascally streak!

more soulful staring, their favorite couple activity. along with fighting

YES. after all the injustices and cruelties the wens have suffered, they can finally rest in peace, honored by their remaining family and remembered by one wen ning

also...I wish we'd been able to hear lwj and lsz's conversation bc is lsz really not angry at ALL that lwj lied to him his entire life??? but I geuss it's not relevant to wwx's journey, so

wwx offering to come might have been for his own sake as much s for wen ning's sake, but I like that wn pushes back. it's not rejection, it's reassurance. wwx, this is no longer your burden. leave it and rest. we will never forget what you did, but you no longer have to bear these lives

and this too!! I worry about wen ning being alone, but he's also not been truly independent...ever? I'm glad for him, that he'll find his own way. maybe he'll collect distant family members of the wens, or take care of kids, or grow a garden. something in a community, something that he can build. wwx brought him back to live this life, and he's going to live it no matter what kind of body he's living it with

wwx waving with his dizi 🥺 like he did with jyl all those years ago. it's sweet, it's familial it's fun. for all I said before, I think it's clear that wwx is so happy in this part of the episode

our good-byes to the wens, a central family in the plot and character arcs of almost every single major character. the only two left, off to clean their ancestral tombs and mourn their long dead. a bittersweet ending for an entire family, but not quite so bleak as it could have been. and it's through the cracks that these kinds of stories survive. compared to what could have been, two people are everything

#cql re-rewatch

[flwrkisses]

i know, i love you — cyj.

hi guys! thanks to everyone who showed support to my past couple txt headcannons! i can't wait to work on some more for all of you. so! i got two lovely requests that were very similar. so i decided to blend them together!

genre: angst, some fluff at the end.

warnings: mentions of drinking in a party situation, cursing. fem! reader. *was not proof read*

summary: in which y/n comes home late and yeonjun isn't too happy about it.

finally getting to your apartment, you let out a sigh of relief. the ache in your feet had finally subsided as you threw your heels aside, not caring if they had landed where they were meant to go. you were beyond exhausted and ready to go to bed, make up and all but you knew your boyfriend would never let you do so. the clock read 3:15 am, it was way later than when you expected to be home but you figured it didn't hurt anyone to go out once in a while. you were a hard worker and this night out was a treat for working so hard in the way you always did.

"where the hell were you?" a familiar male voice said from behind you. you jumped before hissing at the burning sensation in the arch of your foot from the shoes you refused to take off all night. "junnie, baby i didn't know you were awake." you relaxed your features as you walked over and wrapped your arms around his frame and yet, he stiffened under your touch. "i called you like 50 times y/n." he stated firmly. your boyfriend was beyond pissed off with you. while you were having a fun time with friends late at night, his mind was going crazy thinking about things that could have happened to you. it wasn't fair to him.

"relax, i told you i was going out and i'd be coming late." you rolled your eyes. you were tired, ready for bed and being hit with unnecessary panic. "i'm going to bed." you announced just before strutting off, not caring what yeonjun had to say. you had fun, and that was all that mattered to you. if your boyfriend wanted to fight with you about it he could save it for the next morning when you werent dying to sleep. as you changed and washed your face you noticed the reflection in your bathroom mirror of your empty bed. "yeonjun?" you called out before drying your face with your towel and yet there was no answer. "junnis baby please!" you pleaded as you walked out of the bathroom to he met with his figure sitting at the end of the bed putting on his shoes.

"where are you going?"

"out."

the short cut response set a fire going in your chest. you knew he was angry but, he would never speak to you in such a way. "no this isn't fair—"

"no what's not fair is not knowing where my girlfriend is at 3 o'clock in the morning! y/n you hardly go out and when you do i lose you for hours!" he sighed and looked out you, his brows furrowed in sadness and worry and his lips lightly parted. "i-i dont care if you go out but i need communication baby, you can't believe how many sick fucks are out there at this time. i just want to know you're safe." he explained and shook his head. you could tell there was more he wanted to say so you decided to stay quiet. "it's not fair..." he pleated, his tone switching as he realized his thoughts. "i can hardly sleep when you don't communicate with me, what if i was asleep and something happened to you? hm? what if i don't hear my phone? what would happen then?" he asked.

guilt flooded your thoughts. as much as you hated to admit it, he was right. if there was one thing yeonjun did it was protect you, even if he wasn't there. he'd check in on you with texts every couple hours, make sure you're still at whatever bar you mentioned and even would offer to drive you and your friends home if you guys drank too much. "i'm sorry..." you sighed and ran a hand through your hair. "i didn't have my phone on me... im sorry."

"great, im sleeping at my studio tonight." he said as he got up, you almost forgot how easily he towered over you. the last thing you wanted him to do tonight was leave you alone. "yeonjun please stay, we hardly ever get nights like this." you sighed. it was true. nights where the both of you were able to sleep in eachother's arms were rare and often a luxury for the both of you. but, yeonjun was seriously upset and you know he was insanely vicious when he got this way, sometimes even saying horrible things he didn't mean just to make a point.

"i don't want to say something i don't mean and make this worse if i stay okay? you said sorry and im glad you did, i just need to cool down."

pouting a bit you looked at him, you noticed the obvious exhausted frustration in his eyes and softened a bit. the last thing you wanted was to let him drive like that. as much as he protected you, you often times protected him. you just had to get him to go to bed. "baby, come on lets go. we're both exhausted and it wont do us any good. we can talk about it in the morning okay?" you leveled with him as you placed a hand on his cheek. that same hand ran back to the nape of his neck and up into his hair.

"please?" you whispered as you gently scratched the back of his head. he sighed in return, accepting he was going to bed right there with you. gently, you sat him down and took off his shoes, changed him to a lighter shirt—something you knew he'd be more comfortable in. his eyes tiredly followed your every move. "you know i love you right?" he asked softly. a small smile came to your lips as you finally settled yourself in front of him, looking down at his seated position. "i know, and i love you too... i'm sorry for not communicating jun... i really am." 

"it's fine, i was being psychotic." he chuckled tiredly before letting his body weight push him back to lay on your shared bed. "it's not psychotic, you just want to make sure im okay." you responded, crawling into bed and laying your head on his chest. "i'm here now though baby, you can rest~" you hummed softly and played with his hair until his breaths became a bit deepened and his muscles relaxed. he was finally asleep.

thanks for reading! i go on vacation today so, posts might be slower for the next week!

- m.

#🦨 anon #kpop #bts #kpop drabbles #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #yeonjun #yeonjun angst #choi yeonjun #txt yeonjun #yeonjun boyfriend #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun drabbles #txt #txt hyung line #txt fluff #txt drabbles #txt headcanons #txt imagines #choi soobin #choi beomgyu #kang taehyun #hueningkai #yeonjun fanfic #kpop fanfic #fanfiction #txt fanfiction

[luvrlixie]

KILLING ME SOFTLY

【REQUESTED】 - OKAY OKAY SJDBJSISH I WAS GONNA REQUEST A SKZ SEEING YOU IN THEIR CLOTHES OR SOMETHING BUT THEN I STARTED THINKING ABOUT BINNIE SEEING YOU IN SHORT SHORTS AND HIS SHIRT WHICH IS LIKE HUGE ON YOU (ALSO THIS MAN IS DEF A THIGH GUY) AND MY MAN GOES F E R A L. SO. YOU LET HIM RIDE YOUR THIGH <33333

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tags: changbin x gn! reader, soft dom reader, thigh riding/dry humping, very soft, exhibitionism????????? idk they aren't alone in the dorm but no one walks in. not a lot of smut sorry y'all </3 mostly just sappy emotions.. but still nsfw... lit rally wrote at 4am and don't feel like editing lmaoo

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"seriously binnie! if you're gonna spend so much money on clothes, you should at least wear them. you have so many cute sweaters and the fact that they're collecting dust in the back of your closet is a crime."

changbin sat up and peered over the back of the couch as you entered the room. he was ready to shoot back a snarky comment but his words died on his tongue as soon as he saw you.

you stopped by the studio to visit him earlier, where he and the rest of 3racha were working on a track for the next album. you hadn't planned on staying long since you knew your boyfriend would be busy. but about 20 minutes after showing up chan was ushering everyone else out of the room, claiming that he had everything he needed from the other boys for now and that they both deserved a night off. any worries you or changbin might have had about chan overworking himself were immediately replaced by the realization that the two of you would finally have some time alone.

and that brought you to where you were now. standing in front of a blushing boy, wearing shorts and a long shirt of his that completely hid said shorts. you had decided to change after your boyfriend proposed that you spend the night. (at the time he was excited for movies and cuddles, but now it was an offer that he was starting to regret as he could already feel himself growing hard). the shirt you wore was one that changbin never put on due to it's size, he didn't think the whole oversized clothes style was really his thing.

but holy fuck it was yours.

"you uh- you look good."

changbin swallowed and you squinted. he was always a sucker for you wearing his clothes, but it was still odd for him to be turning so red just from seeing you in an shirt of his. luckily it didn't take long for you to notice the way his eyes wouldn't meet yours since they were focused on a different part of your body. you couldn't help but let out a little giggle. seeing you in his clothes might make him weak, but his biggest weakness was your thighs. he'd never exactly talked about your thighs in particular, but it was something that you had picked up on as your relationship progressed. you couldn't help but notice how changbin was always making sure to leave little marks on the inside of your thighs, and would jump at the chance to lay between them when he got sleepy, and how he would often pull out just in time to paint your thighs with his cum.

"like what you see?" you asked playfully as you took a few steps forward so you were standing in front of him.

"like what i- fuck yes... you're gonna be the death of me y/n."

you hummed in amusement, loving the affected you had on your boyfriend, and tangled a hand in his hair so you could guide him forward and let him press kisses on your thighs.

"mm seriously, on my gravestone it's gonna say your name after cause of death" changbin breathed out as he happily trailed his lips over your skin.

"that makes it sound like I murdered you, I'm not a fan of that"

you stood there for a few more minutes. finally moving away once you sensed that changbin was growing impatient. although you loved making your boyfriend beg, now was not that time for that. even though you moved to sit down next to him, changbin whined when you stepped away. knowing you, the poor boy was worried that you were gonna make him suffer through the whole movie with a boner. however, you had much different plans in mind for tonight.

with a smile, you slid a hand between his legs. "such a pretty noise, that little whine. wanna make it again for me?"

changbin's mouth went dry, he opened it to say something but nothing would come out. how were you always able to make him speechless? he did want to make that noise for you again. he wanted you to coo over how cute he sounded, but not here. not in the living room with minho still tucked away in his room, and with hyunjin and seungmin who were expected back at any minute.

"please, please let's go to my room. I need you."

you shook your head and started palming at chnagbin's crotch through his sweatpants, making his body go slack. "shh baby it's okay, calm down. I was just gonna let you grind against my thigh, let you get off like that. we'll be fully clothed so if anyone walks in it'll be pretty easy to play it off as cuddling or a makeout session."

that seemed to be all the reassurance that changbin needed. the way you were touching him paired with your soft voice was making his head spin. all he was focused on now was making you happy and chasing his orgasm. not even a second went by until he was moving onto your lap so he was facing you and straddling one of your legs.

"there you go! good boy."

you helped him settle into a comfortable position and pulled him close so his chest was pressed against yours and his face was buried in your neck. as changbin started to move his hips, you continued whispering words of encouragement and gentle praises since you could feel how tense he had gotten. changbin hadn't exactly done this before. and although the whole thing seemed rather self explanatory and he had gotten off by rutting against a pillow multiple times, he felt a bit self conscious with you watching his every move.

"It's okay bunny, there's no right or wrong way to do this. just whatever feels good." you whispered soothingly into his ear, catching the nervous look in his eyes and the way his movements kept faltering.

it was silly of him to be nervous, he realized. the safest he had ever felt was with you, and over the course of your relationship you had both tried out plenty of new things together (both in and out of the bedroom). thigh riding? this was nothing, you had certainly seen him in much more embarassing situations. so changbin nodded and finally started settling into a steady pace, trusting your words entirely.

every drag of his cock elicited a soft ah sound from the dark haired boy. luckily, you didn't have to worry about him being too loud. he was vocal and made plenty of noise, but always quiet whimpers and soft choruses of "oh"s. you could get him to be loud if you wanted to, you knew how. for now the tiny noises he was making was more than enough to satisfy you as you played with his hair and peppered his forehead with kisses. "there you go bun, bet it feels so good huh?" as you spoke you pressed your leg upwards, applying extra pressure to the whimpering boy's cock. the gasp he let out made your eyes widen in entertainment and you repeated the action, taking pleasure in how he squirmed everytime. "keep going little slut, don't slow down. doesn't my bunny wanna make a pretty mess for me?"

"m-more'" changbin panted.

normally you'd chastise him for not saying please. but right now you honestly couldn't care less. you just wanted your boyfriend to feel loved. wanted him to be as proud of himself as you are of him. so you smiled and pressed your leg up again, hands gripping onto his hips so that you can help guide his movements. "that song you were working on when I visited sounded so good. I know you've been working so hard on it. you're so talented baby, so amazing." changbin let out a sort of strangled noise and tightened his arms around you, pulling himself as close to you as he could get. the absence of words didn't bother you. sometimes changbin babbled on and on while you ruined him, telling you how good he felt and how much he loved you. while other times he just clings onto you, settling on a variety of whines to communicate. both were good.

as the familiar tightness grew in changbin's body, he focused on following the push and pull of your arms. if it wasn't for you guiding him he would have entirely lost his rhythm. knowing that your boyfriend was getting close, you started bouncing your leg and kneading his ass with one hand.

"changbin.. binnie, hey. c'mon let me see your face" you softly prodded, waiting for him to pull back. when he did, your heart squeezed in your chest.

he was so beautiful.

his lips were parted and his bottom lip was glossy and red from biting down on it too hard. his hair was sticking out in a few places, and his eyes were so full of pleasure. you could tell from the glassy look that changbin wasn't entirely present, his thoughts were elsewhere.

"m'gonna..." changbin slurred, hips twitching and back arching. you caught on immediately and softly grabbed his chin to make sure he didn't hide his face again, you always loved to see his face screw up as he comes. this time was no different.

"good boy, good boy let it all out for me"

you helped him ride out his orgasm and leaned forward to kiss him. not even caring that the kiss was messy and mostly just teeth since changbin was panting far too heavily to give you a proper kiss. when changbin's orgasm had finished washing through his body, you let him crash back into your chest. as you waited for him to catch his breath you rubbed his back and buried your face in his hair, giving him time to compose himself before talking.

"I love you binnie"

"..love you too y/n ... but seriously you're way too hot ... gonna die from sexiness overload"

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub! changbin #sub! idol #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #changbin imagine #changbin x reader #changbin smut #skz x reader #skz imagine #stray kids imagine

[stellocchia]

I think it's been more than two months since I pushed my "Wilbur is remembered far more competent than he is" agenda in your asks.

So let's rectify that, shall we?

Wilbur is pretty fucking incompetent. He's never been that amazing charismatic smooth talker we characterize him as (not that I'm not absolutely behind that too)

Like. Who did he ever successfully smoothtalk? The Lmanbergians? None of them were ever hesitant to join from the very beginning and Eret betrayed them pretty easily when Dream manipulated them.

Techno? Techno wanted to join them, he was the one who reached out to them. There was no convincing needed and Wilbur never convinces Techno of anything Techno wasn't already willing to do by himself.

Dream? Definitely not during the revolution and Dream's support during Pogtopia was Dream following his own agenda, not being influenced by Wilbur in any way.

He couldn't even get Quackity to let him into Las Nevadas.

Nah, the only person Wilbur ever smooth talked is TommyInnit. The fucking powerhouse of this cell. And even that's not completely true. Tommy hasn't been convinced by Wilbur of anything since the very beginning of the Lmanberg revolution. Not during Pogtopia. And not even now (it's not smooth talking if it's just exploiting mental exhaustion and trauma and all that. Tommy isn't convinced of what they're doing.)

Really. Not even Tommy, per se.

He just got Tommy extremely loyal and attached to him.

And honestly, that's all he needs.

You don't need to have influence over everyone, you just need to have strong influence over the right person.

And that's what Wilbur had and has.

Wilbur's accomplishments are just pretty much him having a vision and Tommy throwing himself at it to make it come true.

Wilbur had the idea for L'manberg but Tommy was the one leading the troops. Tommy was the one who negotiated for their independence and got it when Wilbur was negotiating their surrender. Tommy was the one who FOR NO REASON built the escape tunnel they escaped through when Dream blew up L'manberg and he was the one who built the lil panic room at the end. Tommy was the one who's home became the embassy to L'manberg (something Wilbur very much pressured and kinda manipulated him into btw. I'm never not gonna mention that lil detail when the embassy comes up)

Wilbur had the idea and stood around looking pretty. My guy literally stood around looking pretty, without armor, during battles. Just. I love him.

And let's not forget that Tommy was fckin great at being the general. The SMP was so much better equipped and still, L'manberg was kinda winning. To the extend that Dream saw the need for TnT (which was hidden) and the betrayal through Eret (which was hidden)

Dream felt the need to pull two deceitful moves to keep if not even gain the upper hand.

If I'm not mixing stuff up here, correct me if I'm wrong.

And stuff like the tunnel weren't even expected of Tommy. My boy just thought of that on his own and did it on his own. Noone knew it existed. Noone expected it to exist.

After independence Wilbur is implied to have been leading but he generally wasn't around too much. Tommy was keeping order in the more face to face kinda way. He tried to navigate people's personal conflicts and make sure things didn't escalate and just. He did so well.

And Pogtopia? Oh, Pogtopia.

It's a bit more difficult here, since they were no longer on exactly the same side and goals are more muddled but still.

(and I want to make it clear that I'm in no way trying to shame Wilbur for mental health issues or anything. This isn't about that. I'd never fucking even imply that)

Tommy kept morale high. He made sure that other people were fine, when there was a chance. He tried to reassure Wilbur when Wilbur was spiraling, he asked Tubbo if he was happier, he told Tubbo to be safe, he recruited Quackity when he saw the chance while making sure that Quackity's intentions were sincere enough (he didn't just naively offer Quackity a place in Pogtopia and risk it being a trap).

He avoided any kind of destruction to L'manberg as much as possible.

He rallied people.

Really, his one actual flaw was not "turning" on Wilbur. His unwillingness to give up on him or even just incapacitate him or limiting his ability to act as he wanted was what ended up costing him everything. His unwillingness to interfere with Wilburs plans beyond talking to him and threatening him with a crossbow that one time ended up making the 16th possible. And he can hardly be blamed for that.

And Wilbur, during Pogtopia... Well... Nobody liked him, he made everyone uncomfortable and most people just kinda tolerated him because... Yeah...

Without Tommy troop morale would have been abysmal thanks to Wilbur. He constantly put himself and his side down, labeling them as villains and thus morally inferior. He pitted his own people against each other, spread paranoia between his people. No communication or actually planning involving other people. Still refused to wear armor.

And don't get me wrong, that's the point. He wasn't on their side. Obviously Tommy added more to their victory, Wilbur didn't want their victory. But still I just wanna praise my boy Tommy, he was. So amazing. Boy fucking peaked.

He's so good in tactical warfare or whatever you call it.

And I wanna just make it clear that this isn't criticism of Wilbur. Not at all. This isn't criticism at all. This is just about the big fanon perception of Wilbur as this great and mature leader.

Tbh this is actually more about showing people how amazing Tommy was and PLEASE I WANT FICS TO HAVE TOMMY BE MORE OF AN EFFECTIVE POWERHOUSE

Regarding my former ask I just wanted to clarify again that I'm not trying to critique Wilbur or anything.

It's really just that I think it's hilarious how people remember him as way more put together and competent than he really was.

-

Yeah, honestly one of the biggest disservice people have done to c!Tommy in this fandom is fail to portray him as the badass general that he actually was. Like, sure, Wilbur's title was as "general", but he never did anything for it. He gave a few speeches, but then the work was left up to Tommy. Like, genuinely, rewatch the Eret betrayal vod, Wilbur says it openly that he's leaving it in Tommy's hands. And Tommy does manage to lead his troops into an advantageous position! They get their enemies to retire at one point during the very first battle!

Then, of course, there is the betrayal, but, once again, Tommy didn't give up. He built the tunnel for their scuffed escape beforehand and, when everyone was just about ready to give up, he went against Dream in a duel and then traded the discs for their independence without loosing a beat.

Tommy was a BIG asset during that war!

Wilbur mostly was and still is kind of a wreak. And it's not his fault, 'cause mental health is an absolute bitch and he wasn't doing too hot after the war, then it got worse with Pogtopia and even worse during the 13 years in Limbo. And now we are where we are now with Wilbur being... not a great individual.

But still! In Pogtopia Tommy was the de-facto leader. And yeah, that was because Wilbur wasn't on their side anymore, but they didn't entirely know that. Or didn't wanna see that.

Tommy himself was hoping that Wilbur would "come back around" if he managed to get back their country. That was a big motivator for him. And he did everything that was in his power to do to not lose either Wilbur or L'Manburg. He tried talking to Wilbur multiple times, tried persuading him that there was another way, he never bought into Wilbur's ideals, he recruited people and he lead the troops once again. It wasn't Techno that lead the troops (despite him being a much better fighter) it was Tommy. And once everything was exploded and Techno and Wilbur betrayed them? Well he kept encouraging people. Literally I'm begging everyone to watch that vod! Tommy was there at every step of the way, telling Niki that it wasn't over, telling Quackity to keep fighting and, after that, you know who was there to validate Tubbo's presidency? To rally people behind him? It wasn't Tubbo. Tommy gathered everyone by the L'Mantree and got their spirits high once again.

He is just genuinely amazing.

And, like, yeah now Wilbur managed to manipulate Tommy to an extent to be by his side. But that's not that much of an accomplishment anymore because Tommy has just been through so much that he's exhausted now, as you said. Like, remember when Tommy said he wanted to be on Wilbur's side because "he gets things done"? Well, I'm still waiting to see that one honestly...

#ladycatland ask #dream smp #tommyinnit #c!tommy #c!wilbur critical #<< just in case #long post #character analysis #tl:dr #the fanon interpretations for tommy and wilbur are often a reverse of canon #tommy is made to be a lot more incompetent and in need of help while wilbur is made a lot more competent and in control #I wonder why that became the case?

[mutants-and-soldiers]

The Proposition (Ch. 1)

summary || You've been thinking about Steve's proposal a lot. Part of you wants to decline but a bigger part of you wants what he's offering.

pairing || alpha!Steve x omega!Reader (Past alpha!Bucky x omega!Reader)

word count || 3,706

warnings || A/B/O, eventual smut, therapy talks, kink negotiation, lots of dialogue — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes || I can't get this story out of my head, really! First chapter is all about setting up the smut so I apologize but I believe in talking things out. Thank you to everyone who commented on the first part of the series! I'm going to try and be better about answering comments from here on out! Keep the comments coming, I love hearing from you guys so much!

You can also read it on Ao3. Do not copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my work, even if you credit me. I always welcome comments and reblogs!

Sequel to Helping Hands: One Two Three Four Five

Divider courtesy of the talented @firefly-graphics

After so many years of going to see Dr. Beta, you were used to the routine when you stepped through the doors. It was late in their work day so you were the only person in the office other than Valarie, the receptionist, who gave you a kind smile. “Good afternoon,” she said, typing something onto her computer. “Dr. Beta’s just about ready.”

“Thanks, Valarie,” you say, setting your bag down to take off your suit.

It had been weird the first time Dr. Beta had demanded you not wear the suit during your sessions. You protested but in the end, she won out. There were a lot of reasons for choosing a female-only office but this was the biggest one. They accommodate you so much just to make you feel welcome and safe in your own skin. It was one of the few places that you could take the suit off and feel comfortable.

The suit was just being zipped up into your bag when the door to the doctor’s office opened. Dr. Beta was a matronly middle aged woman with plenty of laugh lines and crow's feet from years of laughter and joy. She was a kind beta who had done wonders for your mental health and self esteem. Without her, you probably wouldn’t have gone through with the job proposal.

She called your name with a gentle smile, “You ready?”

“Yep,” you smiled, walking over to step into the room. The blinds were closed tight but there were several lamps around the space that allowed a soft light to keep it illuminated. The wooden diffuser was pumping out the soothing smell of lemon and sandalwood. Dr. Beta had always said the lemon helped cut the potency of your powers but you weren’t sure if that was true or if it was something she said to make you feel better.

The two of you settled into your usual spots before the doctor asks, “Anything new since we last saw each other?”

It had been a month since your last session. The milestone of going monthly instead of bi-monthly had been huge for you. There was a time that you saw her weekly, which was when you were at your lowest. You were glad to be where you were.

“Where do I even start?” you laugh, leaning casually back on the leather couch. The cold material felt nice on the bare skin that peeked out from your denim shorts and athletic tank top. “I’ve been meeting regularly with three guys to run with them every Tuesday and Thursday. We also go out for drinks and the game on Sunday.”

“Wow, that’s fantastic!” she gushed, genuinely excited for you. She even sat her clipboard and pen down to lean forward with her elbows on her knees. It was something she only did when you made some kind of...positive choice in your life. The way it made your chest swell with self pride was silly and kind of childish but the woman had always been extra motherly to you. “Clients?”

“One of them was,” you nod, trying to keep the flush of excitement from making you seem too eager. “They’re really nice guys and they invited me to start sparring with them next week after our runs.”

A gentle look crossed the doctor’s face that had you melting. It was a look that she gave when she was proud and the way your name came out of her mouth spoke volumes. “I’m so proud of you,” she said aloud even though you knew it by her body language. “It’s been a long time since you took time for yourself in your personal life. Are they on your level of martial arts?”

“Better!” you said, excited to have a good challenge.

“Better than you?” she laughed, sounding incredulous. “I’d have to see that to believe it!” You join her for the laugh. “Anything else?”

Your mind flutters to a certain blond and his proposition but decide to keep that to yourself for now. It wasn’t good for you to hide secrets from Dr. Beta and you usually didn’t, however, she would definitely encourage you to take him up on the offer. You didn’t think you were ready to come up with reasons (lies) for why you couldn’t do that yet.

“Not really.”

She nods, grabbing her clipboard to flip the paper. “Dr. Noland said you were going to get your heat early this time around. She said you mentioned you might know why?”

Damn it. You forgot how much the two doctors communicated between each other about your health. It was the program you were in and, while amazingly helpful, could be very annoying at times. Case in point, now you need to make a choice on whether to point blank lie to Dr. Beta or just tell the truth. Lying by omission was much more your style.

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigning yourself to the conversation. “The last client I helped had...intense pheromones. I think it may have kicked me into my heat cycle early.”

The doctor’s hazel eyes widened in shock, “Even with the suppressant you took?”

Nodding, you look away for a second. “The client was a super soldier,” you admit, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

Understanding blossomed on her face when she made a guess as to who you were talking about. “Well, that might do it, for sure,” she nodded, making a note. “Still, I’m going to have Dr. Noland change your suppressant just in case it’s not working.”

She stood up, going over to the cabinet behind her desk. She took out a large bottle, tossing it to you, that had heat vitamins in them. Another bottle was thrown your way full of pills specifically for healthy slick production. The last thing she came over with were a few vouchers for omega-centric energy drinks and heat-snacks.

“I know you hate this question but I am legally required to ask,” she chuckles. “Do you have someone you trust to help you through your heat?”

You hesitate. “No.”

Her head snaps up, hazel eyes pinning you to the spot. “You hesitated. You never hesitate,” she points out with far too much excitement. She sets the clipboard down, doing the lean again. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Well, the cat was out of the bag and now you couldn’t lie because she would never believe you now. “I was...propositioned,” you admit, feeling stupidly relieved that you had been honest with her. She had conditioned you so fucking well to feel better when you told the truth as opposed to lying. It had been a ‘bad coping mechanism’ you created during your childhood to gain some control of your otherwise uncontrollable life.

“By one of your new friends?” she asked, already getting the gist of the conversation. “Was it your client?”

“No, not my client but his...best friend,” you whisper, feeling a little embarrassed that you were having this conversation.

Dr. Beta is quiet for a moment, contemplating how to ask the question. “What’s the big deal then? Why not take him up on the offer?”

You cringe. “There are…a lot of reasons but I’m sure you’re going to make them seem like they’re not problems but things I’ve blown up in my mind.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “You know your feelings and worries are valid! I just help you see things in a more logical light. I think you should really talk this through with him but...would you like to practice with me?”

You bite your lower lip but give a heavy sigh when you realize there’s still nearly forty minutes left of your time with her. “Fine. It can’t hurt.”

You sat in the booth twitching with your napkin. You and the owner were good friends from back in your academy days so he allowed you to pay a certain amount for the whole rooftop terrace. It meant you could enjoy a meal with someone without having to wear your suit. You also got the same female server every time who knew your situation and didn’t care.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” you heard a familiar voice say to your left.

Not really sure why, you stood up when he approached. He was wearing a thin blue zip-up jacket over a blue and white plaid button up shirt that was unbuttoned enough for you to see the white t-shirt he had under it. His jeans were dark and fit far too well around his massive thighs. A plain blue ball cap sat on his head and some fake glasses to help hide his identity. The smile he gave you was enough to make your preheat brain purr.

It took you by surprise when his big arms wrapped you up in a hug that smothered you in his masculine scent. Your hands touched his back, hugging him hesitantly. The squeeze lasted a little longer than you expected, just enough for your head to be perfectly swimming in his pheromones.

You pulled away when he did, allowing him to sit at the far side of the table, facing towards the rest of the area. He had insisted that you come without your suit so it was the least you could do to keep the waitress from noticing his erection.

“It’s okay, I ordered some water for us,” you smile, genuinely happy to see him. It wasn’t often that you saw any of the three men individually. They usually hung out in a pack and you were happy to know that you fit into the group pretty well. “Get whatever you want, Steve. It’s my treat.”

He gave you a look. “I would prefer it if you let me pay.”

Your heart gave a hard thump in your chest. There was something about the way he said it that was just short of a command. You look into his blue eyes, trying to gauge his intent before setting down the menu. “Is this some old-fashioned pride I see leaking through?” you tease, giving him a mischievous grin.

“No, I just figure it was only right that I buy you lunch before helping you with your heat,” he said so casually it made your face heat.

“What makes you think I’m going to agree?!” you laugh loudly.

There is a knowing glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. “Isn’t that why we’re here? Alone?” he questioned easily, looking up just as Julia came to the table.

“Welcome back,” she greets you, setting two empty glasses and a pitcher of water down on the table. “My name’s Julia.”

“Nice to meet you Julia,” Steve responded with a neutral smile. It caught you a little off guard because it...definitely wasn’t the smile he gave you. Was it just part of his disguise?

You both ordered a beer and your entrees. It wasn’t until Julia walked away that you focused back on the alpha across from you. He was already looking at you with an intense expression. You feel like he’s basically prying into your soul.

“I...spoke with my therapist yesterday and…” you start, finding it very hard to talk about this kind of thing. It was so easy to soothe your clients but so hard to give yourself a break. “She...convinced me to talk with you about my...worries.”

His expression softens a bit. “I’m willing to work with you,” he soothes, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers curled around yours, warm and solid. “Tell me everything.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m not afraid of hurting you,” you blurt out. “You can take me even on your worst day. I’m...embarrassed to count myself among the small population of omegas that go...feral during their heat. I...fight my partner. Dr. Beta says it's because of the trauma I experienced. Trauma doesn't just disappear during heat...it gets worse. I’m just not the usual kind of docile omega that society seems to exemplify.”

He looks up to alert you that Julia was returning with your drinks. He didn’t speak until she was back inside the building. “Truthfully, I’m actually more intrigued than put off by the notion,” he finally said after taking a sip of his beer. “Do you fight the whole time or just in the beginning?”

It wasn’t a line of questioning that you expected so you gaped at him like a fish out of water for a few seconds before finding your words. “I don’t...know,” you admit sheepishly, sipping your hard cider. “I’ve only been with one alpha during my heat and he had to go to the hospital a few hours into it.”

Something dark and tempting flashed through the blond’s eyes. “How do you feel about restraints?”

Your core throbbed at the simple question. It probably showed on your face because his smile started to widen in understanding. “Yes, that’s fine,” you breathe, trying not to think too hard about the implications.

“Would you prefer to do this at your house or in my suite?” he asked as if you had already agreed to the whole thing.

Your mind screamed at you to say decline. It was dangerous and there were so many things that could go wrong. Your omega brain though had already bought into the whole thing. You wanted this big, powerful alpha to hold you down and take you in the most forceful of ways. You wanted him to restrain you to your nest and have his way with you until the heat fog cleared.

“Wait, wait,” you say, trying to finish your thoughts before deciding anything. “I’m serious when I say I’m insatiable. I don’t have any refractory period between one wave and the next.”

Julia opens the door, alerting you both that she was coming out with food. You both wait until everything is set and she walks away before continuing. The food smells delicious so you grab the burger and bite into it. You always craved red meat before your heat so when the flavors burst across your taste buds, you hum in appreciation.

Steve took a few bites of his own meal before responding. “The super soldier serum makes it so I don’t have any refractory period,” he shrugs casually with a smile. “I’ve never met someone who could keep up with me so...I’m interested to see if you can. Any other worries?”

Heat blossoms across your cheek and in your chest. “I don’t want our friendship to be jeopardized,” you finally admit after finishing half of your burger. You grab some of the fries and eat them while thinking.

“Did helping Bucky keep you from being friends with him?”

“No, of course not,” you sigh, running out of excuses. Dr. Beta had been right, talking with him had definitely made you a little more comfortable with the idea. “Fine, okay, I accept your offer.”

“My place or yours?” he asks with a genuine smile.

You mull over the question for a bit before shrugging. “I have all of my nesting supplies at my house so we can do it at mine,” you chuckle, feeling a little nervous but excited too.

He nods. “Do I need to bring any supplies? Snacks or drinks?”

The two of you continue talking about the logistics of your heat while you finish the food. It makes you feel a lot better knowing you wouldn’t have to go through with it alone. You had already taken the initiative to send a message to all of your clients to let them know you would be out for your heat. You even went ahead and took an extra week just for yourself.

After you pay and you have your layers back on, the two of you stand outside the doors to the restaurant. You don’t want to leave him, truthfully. He smelt so good and you were so close to your heat that it was hard to separate from him. “Thanks for talking with me,” you smile despite the bonnet covering everything but your eyes. “I’ll give you a text when I’m ready.”

“Of course, thanks for lunch,” he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead through the layers. “Here, take this for your nest.”

He shucked his jacket and offered it. Your hand reaches out to take it slowly. “Thanks but this might just push me into it faster,” you laugh brightly, holding the large jacket close to your chest. You could smell the scent of him even through all of your layers. It made your head foggy.

“That’s the idea,” he smirked, turning towards the tower with a wave. “Just let me know when you want me to come over.”

You watch him walk away, eyes lingering on the way his biceps stretched the fabric of his shirt and down until you stared at his toned ass in those jeans. It was obvious how close you were to your heat when sweat started to form along your temples and slick started to dampen your panties.

Once you got back home, you arranged your snacks and vitamins on the counter so they were easy for Steve to find. He might need to feed you for the first few waves because you weren’t sure if you’d be coherent or not. Then you went into your extra bedroom that you used for your heats and started getting it ready.

You pulled out all of your slick-resistant pillows, cushions and blankets from the closet to make a nest on your king sized bed. It was a nice four post bed that had your mind in dark places. All you could think about was being restrained with cuffs around one of those posts while Steve fucked into you.

It didn’t take long before you needed a pad for all of the fucking slick that was making everything so annoying. The nest took a lot longer that you would like to admit because it just didn’t seem...right. You’d never had this kind of issue before but your omega brain wanted Steve to be comfortable and happy too.

Looking back at the closet, you debated on whether or not you wanted to pull out the box of toys. You weren’t sure if Steve would want them or need them or…

“Fuck it,” you mutter, grabbing your phone to send the alpha a quick text. Toys or no toys?

You were adding his jacket to your nest when your phone vibrated in your pocket. Instead of the one or two word answer that you expected, it was...something else.

Definitely toys. I’ll enjoy teasing you until you’re begging for my knot.

Fuckin’ hell! Was this the same blond with the surprisingly boyish face that you had met during lunch today? The same guy that Sam teased about being an old virgin?

You didn’t think the pad was going to hold up to all of the slick that gush from you at the text. How does one respond to a text like that? You grabbed out the delicate pink box out of the closet, wincing at the color because it was the only color that the shop had to store your toys. Omegas were feminine right?! They liked pink, right?!

Laughing at yourself, you set the box on the little table in the room. You opened the lid and set it to the side so you could look at your assortment of toys. It was a collection you started when your first heat hit you at sixteen. You had been a late bloomer because of your constant martial arts training, which stilted your omega hormones.

It had all the necessities and even some extras. You had your typical knot dildo, a vibrator, a clit vibe, a few different types of condoms for when you weren’t in your heat, a bottle of lube that encouraged slick production, a bottle of regular lube, and a few different sized anal plugs. The last few were just because you enjoyed the feeling of being full when having sex.

Quickly you took a picture of the box and sent it to Steve as a reply. It was the best you could come up with. You had never really been good at those kinds of things. Well, you’d never had someone try and sext you.

Happy that everything was prepared, you cuddled under your fuzzy blanket in your nest. Comfort flooded through you as you nuzzled into the man’s jacket, deeply taking in his scent. It was nice and musky and made you feel warm and safe.

The phone buzzed. You’re okay with anal during your heat?

Your pheromone idled brain made you giggle, “Consent is important,” before you could text him back. Yes, I like being stuffed full.

It didn’t even register how inappropriate the text sounded before you hit send. You were obviously a lot further along than you had previously thought. The subtle throb of your core was starting to get worse but you weren’t too far gone to see his last text.

Good to know. Get some rest. Need me to come out and check on you before dark?

You groaned as a cramp hit your pelvis, slick becoming an issue. It simultaneously hurt and felt good. You were so distracted that you couldn’t answer the text message. Everything was suddenly too hot so you threw off your clothing, slipping your hand down to brush against your clit. It was already so sensitive it hurt but you needed relief.

It wasn’t enough and you knew that it would be futile to try and get yourself off with just your fingers but your brain wasn’t working. You groaned helplessly as the lackluster orgasm washed over you. It wasn’t enough, so frustratingly not enough. Sweat dripped down your cheek from your hairline making you kick off the blanket so you could turn over.

You didn’t care how it looked with your ass up because the scent of Steve on the jacket helped clear your head a little. It made your core throb but it also helped you become coherent. Enough so that you grabbed the phone and typed in a one word response that only said:

Now.

Credits for the pictures in Moodboard:

Unsplash photographers:

1. Kelly Sikkema

2. Vulkan Olmez

3. Toa Heftiba

Like, comment and reblogs are always welcome! Thanks for reading!

#a/b/o verse #alpha!steve x omega!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #eventual smut #kink negotiation #therapy #mutants #fanfiction

[katsukikitten]

Warning : 18 plus AU, adult themes, collage au

Part one Part two

"Mina, I really don't see why I have to wear this Bikini, I prefer a cutout  one piece." You say sipping your iced coffee as Mina packs her beach bag with sponges, rags, and tons of bottled water. You wait impatiently by the door of your shared, temporary dorm. 

"Becauuuusssse, I already told you! That Instagram post I made of all of us blew up, even with my large following. Remember how many people we brought in last time?"

"Yes, we made 45% more profit…" You bite at the inside of your lip as you think, adjusting your white t-shirt so it sat nicely above the black bikini bottoms. You weren't one to argue with numbers.

"Well now with the combined efforts with the shirtless boys we can actually use that allowance you got us for unlimited kegs." 

"No, Mina new windows and installation. They said the house was hot, which means winter will be brutal." You roll your eyes, "Unless you want to freeze this winter, personally I have no problem with freezing." 

She giggles at your joke, pulling you along as if you were the reason for being late instead of her. Mina spies Uraraka and Jiro waving them towards the two of you before she whispers softly to you.  

"Just, try to have fun today no matter what." 

You wondered if that was an omen, a jinx or if she already knew what lied ahead. Either way you would not being having too much fun. 

The four of you arrive just before the first customer's begin to line up and already you want to organize. Counting the heads until you see a certain ash blonde causing your normally cold blood to run hot. Too hot. 

"Mina?" Your voice dips low, as ice dances in the air around you, "What is he doing here?" 

"Who?" She plays dumb as the other two women greet the group of men. Harsh garnet cut to you as you steel your glare. 

"Oi, Icy Brat. What are you fucking doing here?" His voice grates your nerves and for a moment you see red. Thinking of freezing him and going about your day. Instead you choose to give him the cold shoulder, averting your gaze. 

"We're doing pairs for washing today. I'm glad you could make it" Kirishima beams, coming in for a hug, you take a step back offering him a polite smile. His smile doesn't lose an ounce of shine, it makes you respect him a bit more. 

"I'll handle the cash and direct cars then." You say pointing to the box, ready to grab the fanny pack and head to the street. Denki grabs onto you gently, releasing you as if you were hot to the touch.  

"No it has to be a boy girl ratio. I promise the outcome will be worth it, please!" This won't be the first or last time both Denki and Mina beg for your help. You look around at what must be their subconscious pairings. Jiro calls Denki over as the first car pulls up, Kirishima seems to wait patiently, his eyes lingering on bubble gum pink skin, while Sero is already guiding cars with Uraraka in tow. 

That leaves you and Bakugou who has his arms crossed, sneering at the customers. 

Your hope dwindles that today would be a good day.

Sero points to a blue car indicating that this was going to be yours to share with the hot head. Sighing you waltz over in your black wedge heels and begin your work. Bakugou looms over the wet car, sponge in hand. The two of you work in silence until the third car, a red coupe with a couple inside about to receive the show of their bi lives. 

They comment on the tension they feel between the two of you right away, they notice the glares and lack of communication. Even making small jokes about how funny it would be to see one of those cliche water fights between the two of you. 

"Icebrat, you're doing it fuckin wrong." Bakuogu barks, you ignore him, continuing to wash the car. Anger burns in his chest, never understanding why you acted so high and mighty. 

"Gonna give me the cold shoulder are ya?" He growls, eyeing the dirty water before a thought crosses his mind, "Love to see you ignore this."

His voice is sadistic before he throws the dirty water across the car onto your frame, suds and water cling to your white t, showcasing the black bikini top underneath. Your temper spikes enough that your shirt collects frost at the seams before you slowly remove it. Glaring at the hot head when you're done.  

"Fuck." The couple say aloud grabbing onto each other as they watch the scene unfold. Your powerful frame guiding you with a deadly clack of your heels. Your hands find the bucket of water Mina and Kirishima were using, your fingers tap the bucket and the water forms a film of ice at the top. Meanwhile Bakugou goes to "correct" whatever mistake you were making. The couple's eyes watch the unsuspecting Bakugou reach up their hood to clean a particular spot before water is dumped over his spiky blonde hair. 

You tap the back of his shirt making it stiff with frost, when he moves to face you it shatters away from his body. Revealing the sculpted plans of his abs and the scars of untold stories. 

If it weren't for all of that ice water Bakugou would have blown you sky high, he comes close to you. Huffing as his eyes become wild and wide. All you offer him is a deadly polite smile as you stare him in the face, unbothered and unphased by his towering presence. 

"What? I was only getting the spot you missed." When he says nothing you allow yourself to relish the silence, placing your hand on his shoulder capping it in obvious ice. 

"Are you giving me the cold shoulder now?" The question is nonchalant before you signal to Sero for another car as you walk to get more supplies. Sero whistles at a bristling Bakugou before leaning into the driver's side window to give directions. Before he can ask for a tip the driver is offering a twenty dollar bill while his eyes are flickering between yourself and Bakugou. 

"Mark us down as a regular." He sighs as his girlfriend does too.  Sero happily tucks the money into the fanny pack.

"Will do." 

Somehow the two of you manage quips and water pranks back and forth without killing each other. Making it through the long day but earning a high amount of tips. Mina clings to you as you count cash, sweat on her brow as the sun settles into an unbearable afternoon heat. 

"Uuugghhh how much longer mom?" She asks, sighing at your icy touch. You roll your eyes as you count the last stack. 

"Not too much hush." You place the money into the lock box, wondering how the hell the eight of you made so much money in just seven hours. 

"But I'm starving! Plus we still have to pick our rooms!" 

"You're that excited to move all of our items into what was a male dominated space?" You ask coolly as Jiro and Uraraka lean against the collapsible table. 

"I'm stoked." Jiro comments, her earjacks twirling themself as her eyes wander.

"It will be nice to be settled before the fall term." Uraraka sighs looking down at her phone, idly scrolling through her socials. The two women nod as the guys approach. You purposely ignore the hot head and allow your eyes to meet Denki's, although it takes him a few long seconds to meet your gaze. He was a little preoccupied with a black and white checkered bikini with matching Van's. 

"Earth to space cadet." Sero nudges his ribs subtly pointing to you as you gaze at him as a teacher would a student caught daydreaming. He clears his throat. 

"Well it seems your theory has paid off. We've made quite a bit of cash today." You lock the box before standing, reluctantly adding, "The pairing of female and male will be standard from here on out. Although we should only need a few more fundraising events depending on what the house needs. Which I trust won't be too much."

Three of the four boys shared a concerned look while the fourth knows how bitter your words were going to taste.

"We'll meet you at the house." 

❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥❄💥

The four of you cannot deny the excitement you feel as yall walk up to the historical home. The upper balcony seems to wrap around the back but only partially in the front while the porch below stretches across the front of the home. The siding had been repainted and the banisters above and below are wrapped in what will be sparkling lights at night. A stately set of double doors catch your eye before they yawn open by the hands of Denki Kaminari who is trying not to visibly sweat. 

"Home sweet home!" Denki steps aside to let the four of you in with your belongings. Your eyes dissect the place as you press your tongue into your bottom lip, trying your best to keep your cool. This place needed a lot of what you deemed necessities. You notice the familiar dining room table as the foldable card table they had at the carwash surrounded by the cheap camping chairs you thought you had replaced. 

The only decent looking room was the living room and even then it was only thanks to you. The leather arm chairs were placed haphazardly around the new sectional you had delivered as it circled around the TV you demanded from the dean.

Denki watches your manicured nails rap against your skin as you think.  

"The window installation and insulation went smoothly?" 

"Yes." Sero answers as your eyes wander around the room landing on your mattress and platform bed frame resting against the wall in the nook by the study turned bedroom. 

"We didn't know where to put it since the bedrooms aren't sorted out for you lovely ladies just yet." Kirishima smiles but your mind isn't on why it is there. No, your mind is wondering why there is only one.

"Was I the only one to order my mattress?" You look towards your sorority who holds a guilty look before you glance at the three men who mirror the women. 

"Well I guess that is for the better. We can spend extra on them now anyway." 

"Are you sure? I thought the budget was tight." Denki asks, earning a rare boasting smile from you. You make your way into the kitchen and six ducklings follow. Your nail taps the stainless steel of a high end commercial fridge. 

"It was tight before but not after I got this." Smile remaining on your lips as you speak, "It was 3,000 off due to some cosmetic dents but I got it as a donation. An alumni donation." 

"Wow for free?!" Denki and Sero ask in unison, amazed by your skill. 

"For free boys." 

"Wow, Bakugou might love that fridge even more now. Every time he cooks he mentions how great it is." Kirishama laughs but a certain name causes you to freeze to the tiled floor. 

"Bakugou…" You turn to Mina with a deadly glare as ice crystals form in your hair, "As in Bakugou lives here?!" 

The silence echoes throughout the kitchen and all that can be heard is the hum of the fancy fridge. Just as you're about to snap, Denki intervenes. 

"Uh. Did you want to talk bedrooms?" 

"YES!" The girls yell pulling the boys back into the safety of the living room as you collect yourself for a moment. 

God you hated the effect his name had on you but even more so how stupid you felt. As if this was some half baked plan to leave out the important detail that the man you loathed most would be under the same roof. Finally after a few deep breaths the ice in your hair melts and you step into the living room with a level head. Reminding yourself that this house was going to be rent free. You would have a full sized kitchen and your own bedroom, this was a much better option than the dorms even if it meant Bakugou came with it. 

"There is one bedroom upstairs not claimed, the rest of us guys are up there too. Then that door next to the nook is the study, it's not huge but it has a lot of shelves and big enough to fit a queen. Um there are two bedrooms in the basement but it's not totally dark down there. Plus the second living room with the pong table is down there. What else?" Denki taps his finger to his lips, "Oh half bath is here. Full bathroom is upstairs and there is technically another full bath in the basement, it's just more 'open concept'." 

"Open concept?" Jiro asks, earjacks perking with curiosity. 

"He means no walls. Just a toilet and a shower head chilling next to the laundry sink and washer, dryer." Sero explains, again you tongue the inside of your bottom lip. 

"Girl huddle!" Mina shouts, pulling the three of you into a small circle, "I personally really would like one of the bedrooms in the basement. I'm loud and I wouldn't mind the late hours that come with the pong table. I am the QUEEN after all." 

"I want a bedroom in the basement too. You know my music gets super loud!" Jiro pipes in. Uraraka wants to say something but politely waits for you, instead you gesture for her to speak first. 

"I...I would be much more comfortable in the study. I don't mind it being small." Her brown eyes bore holes into the floorboards as you read between the lines. 

"I would be much more comfortable on a different level than all four men." Is what she means, you sigh internally, swearing this will be the last compromise you make for these women. 

"Then I'll take the room upstairs." You state before telling the boys the arrangements. You look at your watch to check the time. 

"If we leave now in the college van and trailer I borrowed we could get everyone else's mattresses tonight." You look around the room before asking, "So where is Bakugou anyway?" 

The three boys glance at one another, Kirishima speaks up. 

"He had a….previous obligation." He laughs, rubbing the back of his head. You narrow your eyes. 

"Let me call him. This is more important than whatever he is doing. It clearly isn't school related." You hold out your hand for the red head's phone, he pulls it from his pocket reluctantly. 

It rings before going to voicemail but that's never stopped you before. You call until he picks up screaming into the receiver. 

"WHAT THE FUCK I TOLD YOU NOT TO FUCKING CALL SHITTY HAIR!!!" 

"Enough with the dramatics, what could be more important than your other roommates deciding bedrooms in the house?" 

"Is that?!" A female voice screeches your name once she figured out who you are, "Listen here slut, I'm in the middle of getting my back broken and…" 

"Bakugou we are leaving in fifteen minutes. I advise that you get here on time. Otherwise we will leave without you." You interrupt the angry booty call. 

"And if I fucking don't, Icebrat?" You roll your eyes at the nickname as you sigh. 

"Then I'll spend your portion of the allowance on something else. Fifteen minutes." 

"OI!" Bakugou shouts before a woman's voice comes across the speaker.

"Stop ignoring me bitch and stop talking to my man!"

"Oh sweetheart your 'man' is only going to your place cause he sleeps on a crusty ass futon not because he actually likes you." Your voice is honeyed in venom before dipping low, "Bakugou be home or you forfeit the fucking funding for your bed."  

With that you hang up, passing Kirishima's phone back to him. Everyone shares a glance as they remember just how icy you can be, there was no threat in your voice. Only a promise to Bakugou. 

"Sero be a dear and help me take my mattress up." You ask lifting the box with the unbuilt frame with ease. Suddenly skittish Sero takes a moment to grab your mattress as Denki helps him bring it up the stairs but abandons Sero by the bathroom at the top of the stairs, forcing the tape hero to face this challenge alone. Sero only hopes the room neighboring yours is shut and he sighs with relief when it is. 

He helps you set the items into your room that is located in the front of the house.  You take in the view of the perfectly sized yet small bedroom. Two large sets of sliding doors that meet in the corner force you to place your bed against what you assume is the shared wall of one of your roommates. Sero swallows thickly as he realizes just why Denki abandoned him. He can see it in your eyes, the curiosity sparkling as you turn to face him, you're going to inquire about the room next door. 

Please Gods do not ask him. 

Don't fucking asking him please. 

"Who do I owe the pleasure?" You smile sweetly, praying it is Kirishima or Sero at the very least. Hell you'd even take Denki who sings loudly off key, as long as it wasn't Bakugou. You watch the raven hair man's face fall, his dark eyes avoiding yours as he answers and yet somehow you already knew. 

"Ba-Bakugou's" The room drops twenty degrees as the floor freezes beneath your feet, snow floating gently to the floor as Sero's breath puffs in the new found tundra. 

"SERO I NEED YOUR HELP MAN! JIRO'S DRUM SET AND AMPS ARE HEAVY!" Denki calls from downstairs, saving Sero's hide. The man rushes and catches himself from slipping before he practically jumps down the entire set of stairs. 

"How did she take it?" Mina whispers before following Sero's eyes to where your bedroom should be. Urakaka comes from the study with snowflakes dusting her hair and a shiver. 

"Well at least I'll never be hot in the summer." 

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha au #bnha college au #bnha frathouse au #bnha wholesome frat house

[sinsbymanka]

Hey. I'm sorry. So. Your post about sunseekerknight is really long and it seems out of date. I thought everything had been resolved and she promised to make amends but this all started back around again and it sounds like your issue isn't solved. Can you update me real quick? Sorry.

Thanks for being polite and coming to me. I’ll try to summarize things to the best of ability while also noting this is kinda a clusterfuck. It got long, so it’s under a cut.

In March 2020, I commissioned @sunseekerknight (I’m blocked so I can’t actually @ her) to do a Tarot Card commission of my Inquisitor for $80. I sent the money via PayPal friends and family as she requested which is something I no longer do for artists, even though I’d done it before with no problems. 

The main post goes over my initial experience really well - the repeated attempts at contact and missed deadlines. This post was made on June 18, 2020 and blew up. I informed Ada that day I was making the post and she told me she’d be doing so as well. 

I’d already filed the PayPal claim which was ultimately denied because I’d sent the money via friends and family, despite SSK’s assurances she’d help me resolve it in my favor. 

I didn’t hear from SSK after this and I didn’t contact her. My father passed away on June 20th and I was busy dealing with the personal fallout of that (he’d been in the hospital the whole month of June as it was) so my priorities swung towards processing my own grief and planning what happens next. 

On July 10th, my PayPal claim was denied. I forwarded the claim to SSK with the following message:

I want to inform you that PayPal has indicated, due to the way you asked me to send the funds (friends and family), they are unable to provide any sort of refund based on their policies. It is your responsibility to make the refund.

Because of the history of fraud I've uncovered, I will be pursuing this further. I am, in particular, asking PayPal to mark this account as one used for fraudulent transactions and scamming money before closing it. My hope is that this account is in your real name and that getting this account marked for fraud has real consequences you have to live with.

I honestly didn’t expect to hear from SSK again, but I did on July 12th: 

Oh, I see. Now the difficult situation has become even more difficult. I'm sorry to say this, but, as I said earlier, I had only two offers for people affected by my actions - a PayPal dispute or finished art. And since PayPal is useless in this situation, all I can offer you - is art. I’m still ready to finish your commission because I don't want you to be left with nothing. I would like to return the money, really, but it will take time and I don't know how much, considering the current situation on Tumblr. I still want to resolve this issue peacefully, despite what is happening now. I know that you don't trust me, and I understand this, as well as the fact that you are disappointed, angry, etc., but still I want to do at least something so as not to leave the situation as it is now. But if this is your final decision, then okay, I understand and accept it.

This message struck me as victim blaming. I am, after all, responsible for the situation on Tumblr which means she can’t get commissions. I reacted with some venom and my tone is not great here, but I do ask you to understand the frame of mind I was in here on July 13th: 

I don't think it's fair to claim that PayPal is being unhelpful in this situation when it is you who are refusing to refund money for a service that was purchased and not completed. I think it would make me feel better if you started phrasing the "situation" in a way that took responsibility for it. Such as: "I cannot refund the money to you myself, because I spent it before delivering what you paid for, and I cannot get your dispute resolved through PayPal because I asked you to send the payment a specific way that precludes disputes." 

I also feel hurt that immediately after I sent my email on Friday, you blocked me from Tumblr and turned all your social media accounts private. I can't think of why you would do this when you claim to still want to resolve this and when I have been more than kind. I find it difficult to believe that you didn't know what my review would cause - it sounds to me like this is something that has been brewing for awhile. Frankly, I'm amazed it took three years. I would also appreciate if, instead of blaming the "situation" on Tumblr for your inability to receive new commissions, you began taking responsibility for that as well. May I suggest: "My actions in the past three years have harmed many people and they are angry about it with good cause. Because I have damaged my reputation to a great extent, I will probably not receive many, if any, people willing to pay me money for commissions." 

I fully expect to receive nothing from you: art or my money returned. When speaking with PayPal on Friday, they advised the only way to shut your PayPal account down is if I file a criminal complaint with the IC3, which is the US's Internet Crimes division of the FBI. I did so and sent them the screenshots I have of all our conversations, your posts on Tumblr, and links to the posts of other people who publicly came out regarding the same behavior they experienced. I'm uncertain I can withdraw my complaints from both PayPal and the IC3, and if I could I don't think I would. I'm sure this isn't something that is high priority for them, but I assume eventually they will contact you to discuss your actions. The way I see it, you have three options at this point in time:

Find some way to issue a refund to me, and any other customers you've wronged. If I am contacted by investigators, I will say a refund was eventually issued in my case. 

Deliver the art you promised to me, and any other customers. If I am contacted by investigators, I will say a product was eventually delivered in my case. 

Continue to ignore what you've done and hope that no real consequences come of it. 

As to the art, I don't want it anymore. It has been tainted by this awful experience and I will not enjoy it. I will, however, accept it if you choose to do it to lessen whatever consequences you may end up facing because, truly, I'd rather you learn from this than end up with financial or legal consequences that are even more burdensome. 

Honestly. I never expected to hear from SSK again. But I did because this is the drama that never ends. On July 20th: 

I must apologize for the long silence. Sorry, I just got home from an unexpected vacation with my family, and I followed the advice of my parents and friends - spend these days away from work and the Internet to feel better. As I said, I understand you. You sound reasonable and you are totally right - it is my responsibility for that. And I'm trying to work it out, even if these are rather strange ways. And it wasn't about you personally. This was part of another problem with a friend I was trying to protect, and I followed the advice to keep the accounts private during the "war" and block some people on the tumblr during this time to avoid any collisions. But still, I was available for correspondence via email, and now all my accounts are again freely available. I know how it looks like, especially for you, when you have really been more than kind to me, and I cannot apologize enough to somehow change and improve this situation. I just fucked up on all fronts and I admit it. And I see, yes. I don't mind returning your art or money, it's just a matter of time. These are not days, these are weeks or months, and it is solely a matter of your patience. If you do not mind waiting, then I will try to return the money to you, since you no longer want art for obvious reasons. I understand and accept it, and it's okay. If you're willing to wait, I'll keep you informed of the refund situation and will do it as soon as I can.

You’ll note earlier I told you I can’t tag SSK cause I’m blocked. I’ve never been unblocked since July despite her saying she would. This is also the last email I got from SSK. I’ve had no communication since to my knowledge.

At this point in time I was tired. Really tired. It was bad news I got this email exactly a month after my father passed because I just didn’t want to do it anymore. This is my second to last email to SSK in response also on July 20th: 

Please feel free to do what you need to do to manage the situation. For my part, I have said and done all I can. I have asked for a refund for a service you have been unable to provide in a reasonable time frame, and thus you are legally obligated to return my money in the same reasonable time frame. That time frame has passed already.

When I am contacted by authorities about this matter in response to my complaints, I will tell them you have promised refunds but have not delivered. The only thing you could do to change this answer is to issue a refund before I am contacted.

This exchange is draining and unhelpful for me. I ask that you please do not contact me again until you are ready to issue a refund. 

On September 25th, I was informed SSK had successfully opened commissions on Twitter and Instagram. This spurred me to send one final email: 

I've been informed you recently reopened commissions to buy yourself something and met your goal, even though you only advertised on Twitter and Instagram. 

I would like to remind you that I'm still owed a refund AND you shouldn't spend that commission money until you deliver on that art. Please do not rip and entire new group of people off. 

There are other people, in the notes of the original post, who can attest to terrible experiences similar to mine. In particular, @starsandskies, @vorchagirl, and @charlatron have all come forward to talk about what she’s done and their experiences. Her pattern seems to be to open commissions, deliver a few, have the rest dragged out of her, and then to not do other ones. I drew the short straw this time. 

I don’t know if she’s reading this - if she is, at this point all I really want is an apology, a list of people who are waiting for art/refunds from her, and a plan as to how she’s going to make it right. If she doesn’t do those things, I suspect I’m going to keep getting dragged back into this cluster for awhile to talk about my experiences. 

If you’re waiting for artwork Non, open PayPal disputes and file complaints if you need to. The sooner the better. 

#manka answers asks #sunseekerknight #this again #I'm tired of it again #sorry guys

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

Sequel to A Forgotten Memory

Roach's stealth skills are put to the test as he sneaks past an alleged Augustus base to capture him and gather intel about the recent EMP based attacks. Will Roach be able to impress Captain Price?

Previous Chapter : Soap - Experiment 001

Chapter 9 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

"A SurPRICE Visit"

Gary 'Roach' Sanderson

Task Force 141

400 meters outside Augustus' Mountain Base

Germany

The winds were picking up when they landed and Roach flew about a few more meters away from Price.

"This EMP blast is messing with my signals. Captain, can you find Roach?" Ghost spoke over comms, his voice crumbled over the static.

"He landed not too far from me. Come on boy, let's get a head on." Price replied to Ghost as he helped Gary get up and untangle himself from his mess. Gary nodded and followed his Captain into the edge of the mountain.

"There it is. Augustus' base." he mused as Gary scoped through his supressed silencer. Trucks were leaving the area filled with armed hostiles.

"Ghost, you see this? They're leaving the hive." Price informed the recon man.

"Aye, sir. Looks like they're headed to Alex's direction. If we time this right you'll have less people inside there." he replied. Gary wondered why they were leaving. It didn't make sense to back-up an already reclaimed base back at Alex's.

"Let's go Roach. I'll take the one on the left tower, you take the one on the right. I'm currently spotting four Tangos by the gate. Fire when ready." Price instructed. Roach took a deep breath to steady his sights, quickly pulling the trigger once the crosshairs aligned with their heads.

"Good kill. Your sniper skills are improving, Sargeant." Price mused as he signaled them to move forward. For a Captain who's left him a solid first impression as a strict angryman, Roach didn't expect the kind words from him. It almost felt overwhelming.

"You go ahead and take what's important inside that guardhouse. I'll cover you from this position." he commanded and Gary sprung safely into action, switching to his suppressed pistol and into the guardhouse.

It was simple, a few cameras, some photos of people who they let in and a few map layouts. Gary quickly snapped all of them for Ghost to see. Roach also grabbed the radio and placed it near his ear. Gary set his sights on an AK-47 lying on the ground.

"Roach, be careful when using unsuppressed weapons. It might reveal our existence." Price muttered to which he nodded. It just made sense.

"Jäeger, kopierst du?" the radio muttered. Roach's German wasn't on point and any non-reply from the other end would result in an investigation.

"Ja, alles klar." he replied, trying to replicate the accent. There was no more reply on the other side which meant Gary actually nailed his reply.

"Captain, behind that door is heavily guarded. I suggest a reroute to the back door just a few meters east of your position. This isn't Augustus' base, it's a remote research facility studying plant life by the border and he seemed to take it over." Ghost informed after gathering the photos, Gary waited on the edge of the wall covering his Captain's six. The duo proceeded as suggested and climbed over an unguarded fence.

"We're at a greenhouse. Labeled 6." Price whispered.

"Do you see any cameras?" Ghost asked.

"Yeah. Looking at the plants." he muttered.

"Circle around it and find cover behind the safehouse labeled 5. If my German is correct, the central area should have 2 scientists on their way in there." Ghost informed.

"Right on schedule." Price nodded to Roach as they both knocked them down quietly and non-lethally as they were civilians. Gary quickly slung his weapon and hid it behind the huge white lab coat the both of them now wore.

"Keep your weapons hidden, until I say so. Okay?" Price said as he pulled the bodies somewhere hidden. Gary nodded as they confidently waltzed inside the base, using their fake ids pinned on their coats for entry.

Gary watched a lot of sci-fi fics and most of them depicted labs as white walled, glass-divided rooms with hundreds of scientists working on some random machineries. Except here, it's plants. It seemed normal as if they infiltrated the wrong base. Price seemed to worry too, his steps were further apart and he seemed to be in a hurry. They were losing hope on a lead, until one armed guard, different from those outside started climbing up the stairs.

"Finally. Some good news." Price muttered as they made their way up the stairs.

"Authorized personnel only." an armed guard stood by the steps blocking the duos way. It was too crowded and too risky to engage him and press through and they both needed a new plan.

"Es tut mir leid." Gary replied as he pulled Price to the restrooms.

"It's no use. We can't go guns ablazing right here." he noted to his Captain.

"Bollocks." he cursed.

"We need a diversion." He added.

"Way ahead of you, Sir." Gary smirked and showed him his c4 trigger, pushed it and an explosion followed.

"Nice. By the guard house?" Price asked while they waited for reinforcements to assist the blast.

"Yeah."

"Quick thinking lad. I like that."

Several armed men came rushing down the stairs, yelling in a different language, all going to the exit. They stomped to the stairs and carefully breached the second floor of the building, shooting armed tangos using suppressed weapons. They had to act fast and stomp on their comms as soon as they're down so that the others outside will not fall back.

Ten guards were left behind to protect the second floor, and with the help of stealth, Gary and Price took them out smoothly. All that's left are the intel waiting to be harvested.

Gary snapped all possible evidence, every nook and cranny was investigated while Price tapped his heavy fingers on the keyboard.

"Looks like they're going large. They're planting something by the major cities cell towers. Here's one in Berlin." he muttered, printing a copy of the blueprints.

"Price! R-ch" Ghost's static crackled across their comms.

"Th- found- guards!

Get. Out. There. NOW." he added.

"Kill every civilian in there. That will let our little friends out of the shadows. I know they're after us…" a menacing voice said over Roach's stolen receiver.

"Shite. They're killing civvies." Gary said, worried.

"I'm sorry Roach. But we can't save them. It's a trap. Now protect that camera and let's get the fuck out of here." Price consoled as they continued pressing on toward the exit.

Screaming people followed by gunshots echoed across the white halls of the research facility, Gary didn't want to look back, Gary didn't want to hear any more screaming but it was all around him. Whoever commanded this act to be done must be eradicated from this world.

LOCAL MILITIA SETTLEMENT

Alex greeted the duo as soon as they stepped inside the village. It felt lively as everyone was celebrating their victory.

"Captain." Alex nodded and Price returned the gesture with a handshake.

"This is Blitz. Their leader." he added, introducing the man to Price.

"Thank you for helping us." Price acknowledged.

"No. Thank you for helping us. You have good men fighting for a good cause." he remarked, nodding at Alex and Gary. Gary also got acquainted with the leader, exchanged a few words and got offered soup.

"Tough day, huh?" Alex nudged over Gary, who's still sad about the situation earlier.

"You and me, both." Gary muttered as Alex patted his shoulder.

"We'll get him soon enough, Roach. Justice will be served." Alex consoled as Gary took a deep sigh.

"They're planting EMP bombs on major cell towers. Maybe incorporating it with them to perform large scale blasts." Gary pondered, taking a sip off the delicious soup.

"Yeah. That's our go signal. It's now a terror activity. Imagine a day without communication. International trade would crumble." Alex explained to which Gary nodded in agreement.

"Global cripple. People's minds get hurt, Economy gets hurt and we aren't focused enough to defend ourselves."

"That's what he's up to." Gary finished.

"And we have to stop it. Whatever It Takes." Alex looked at Gary with determination, that kind of pep talk that makes him a little less sad.

"Yeah." Gary agreed.

~

Another briefing, but this time, it was going somewhere. Operation Burn, the task is to eliminate Nero and all his allies, if possible. Funny enough, the real Nero burned everyone else. Whoever thought of this name was smart enough to connect the dots.

There's another person added to the team, the redhead leather jacket agent, Alexandra Ryder. An interpol agent tasked to destroy all traces of said EMP machinery. She looks tough, acts tough and basically is tough. France seemed to be going along well with her. That's a bonus for alliances such as these.

"So, I heard Price noted your sniper improvement." Ghost nudged.

"Yeah. Thanks Simon. Your training sucks but it helped a lot." Gary complimented.

"Tried talking to France and the new girl today." Ghost reported. Gary turned to him, clearly interested about his story.

"It was actually good. They're both intimidated by the mask and that's why they can't initiate conversation with me. But the talk went pretty well so I guess you needed to update your scoreboard or something." He muttered.

Gary chuckled. "That's one step towards her."

"I'll let the Interpol handle Berlin. Since it involves just the weapon, as for other news. I think it's time to transfer our two hostages back to the USA." Gary quickly turned his head back to the screen. No. It can't be. He had to stop this decision.

"With all due respect sir. I do not agree with this!" Gary stood up and all eyes were on him. He's still concerned about the welfare of the two plus he didn't want Maxine to leave. Not yet.

"I've read the report on their case sir. And it's not that I don't trust the system there but what if there's still another one in there with ties to Nero. He was able to slip by under our noses once or more times than that but let's consider the possibilities here." Gary explained as he looked around. Alex seemed to agree with him.

Shepherd let out a soft sigh.

"We'll discuss this possibility Sgt. Sanderson. You can sit down now." he said and resumed briefing.

"Brave move you did there, soldier." Ghost remarked as Gary let out a sigh. He wasn't sure on he's really concerned, the IP Address being extracted from Samantha or Maxine's smile that he will be missing if she left.

Next Chapter : The Heart Knows what the Brain doesn't

Notification Squad, my beloved

@samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @whimsywispsblog @enderio @beemybee @ricinbach

#horRAYfic #whateverittakes #codmwfic #alex echo 3 1 #john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #why is the next chapter pink?!

[castielific]

Title: Fancy and the tramp

Story status: Complete, 8 chapters

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dean/Castiel, Alternate Universe, Fake boyfriends, pretend relationship, homeless!Dean, rich!Cas, family, angst with a happy ending, temporary breakup, getting back together, coming out, past!homophobia, self esteem issues, Dean Winchester has a sexuality crisis, first time, homelessness, bed sharing, pining

Sex tags: anal sex, switching, bottom!Cas, bottom!Dean, first time, frottage, marking, blowjob, fingering, barebacking

Special warning: Contrary to what the title may presage, there are no spaghettis in this story. 

Summary: 

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods.

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new fake boyfriend. What a weird day. 

Link to AO3

Chapter 1 under the cut:

************

"Come on Ricky, you owe me that money!" Dean says on his phone, taking a step forward when the line of the coffee shop shortens. 

"I don't owe you shit, Dean. You still owe me the last three months of your rent," his ex landlord says on the phone.

"And I'll pay you, you know I will. But to get the money, I need a job, and to get that job I need some new clothes and-"

"Yeah yeah, I know the deal. You think no one has told me that one before? No bueno, man, I'm keeping your deposit," Ricky grumbles. 

Dean groans in frustration. "Come on, all I need is fifty dollars so I can buy a pair of pants without any holes in it. You give me fifty, I get the job and I pay you back, how does that sound?" he tries to negotiate. 

"Like a fucking lie," Ricky spits just before hanging up.

"No Ric-fuck!" 

The woman in front of him in line sends him a dark look. Dean rolls his eyes at her. Like she hasn't heard worse before. 

Ricky was his last shot. It was a long one, he really does owe that bastard some serious money. Guess he can kiss the job interview at two goodbye. It's some kind of assistant job. It sounds easy enough, buying coffee and picking dry cleaning and stuff. It was still a long shot anyway. Dean's only real job experience is being a bagger boy when he was seventeen and it lasted about two months before his dad decided to move them further east. 

So far, he'd always managed to get by doing repairs or cleaning at gas stops and motels. The older he gets and the harder it gets to find that kind of random job. People are more willing to give a few bucks in exchange for manual tasks to a kid than they are to a nearly thirty years old guy. Now they just tell him to fuck off. 

And since it's always been casual and off the book, the only official work experience he has is the bagger thing. He doesn't even have a high school diploma because he dropped out long before that. Not exactly a stellar resume. Which explains why he hasn't found work in eight month and is currently living in his car. Thank God he has Baby. 

He had been too ambitious thinking he could get his own place. It could only pay rent for about five months before he went broke. He's never had a home before, and had no idea that having an apartment cost so much. In motels, you don't exactly have to pay for water or heat or utilities. There was a bunch of stuff he hadn't planned for that ate up the last of his meagre savings. Ricky threw him out after three months when Dean couldn't scrape up enough money to pay rent anymore, putting a violent stop to Dean's pipe dream of living a normal life. He hoped it would be simpler to get a job if he had an actual address, had even thought about scrapping up enough to maybe get his GED. He's not sure what he's going to do now. 

He's always wanted to be a mechanic. If his dad ever taught him anything, it was how to take care of the Impala. John taught him all the basics and Dean got the knack of it. As a teen, he spent days reading car magazines and working on the Impala, trying to learn as much as he could about how cars worked and how to repair the different parts. He knows enough by now that he could easily work in a garage, but he's got no diploma, and hasn't found anyone willing to hire him on faith alone. 

The line of the coffee shop shortens again, the barista asking her order to the goody-two-shoes in front of him. Dean looks regretfully at the display of sandwiches. He searches his pockets and only comes up with three dollars. Of course, the cheapest piece of food cost four dollars. Dean sighs. Guess just a coffee will have to do today. 

He won't have another choice but to go to the soup kitchen tonight. He hates it there. The food is crap and he wants to punch the prancy people serving it. They always try to give him some Jesus bullshit with his food, like Jesus is ever gonna put a roof over his head and find him a decent job. Neither Jesus nor God nor whatever gives a crap about him. Not that he blames them. Hell, if they exist they're probably not big fans of the guy that used to slip into church as a kid to pick the lock of the donation box

"Just an americano, please," Dean says regretfully when the barista asks for his order. At least it will keep him warm and fill his stomach for a short while.

Halloween just went by and the weather is becoming really cold. He should use the last of Baby's tank to go as far south as he can before winter really hits. He probably won't get farther than Wichita though, and the thought makes him shiver. No one wants to get stuck for a winter in Wichita. Maybe he could go and see if he can make a few bucks at the nearest motel, that kind of place always needs a handyman's help. He hasn't tried the one on Corn Street yet. He's noticed only two lights are still working on their sign, he could offer to help with that. If he makes fifty bucks, he might be able to reach Austin. 

Dean stops on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, pondering if he should walk to the bar a few streets down or the motel. Sometimes Benny, the owner of the bar, lets him use the sink in the back to wash up. If he's lucky, he'll even get some leftovers from last night. It's generally just some stale pretzels, cold fries on good days, but it's still better than nothing. He's got two cans of beans and a car with an near empty tank to his name right now, so he's not picky. 

Dean takes a look at his watch. It's eleven thirty already, the leftovers are probably already in the trash at Benny's. The motel is probably his best bet. 

"I'll give you a hundred dollars if you pretend to be my boyfriend." comes a hoarse voice, way too close to his ear. 

Dean jumps, nearly spilling his coffee on himself. He spins to the right to face the man who just talked and is met with a pair of clear blue eyes. Way too close again. He waits a second for the man to take a step back as he realises as close Dean turning brought them, but the guy just continues to stare at him, head slightly tilted to the side. He's wearing an oversized trench coat over a dark blue suit that looks expensive. He's so close a gust of wind makes the bottom of his coat brushes Dean's shin. 

"Dude, personal space," Dean reproaches, taking a step back. "And fuck off, I don't swing that way," he adds, not meanly. It's not the first time he's getting hit on by a dude. Sadly, not even the weirdest. He's strictly into chicks though, so no dice.

"Two hundred bucks," the man insists. He looks ready to fall on his knees and beg, eyes going wider and wider as he throws a panicked look to the right of Dean's shoulder. "It won't take more than ten minutes and all you have to do is nod along," he begs, making Dean wonders if he's in danger somehow. Maybe he has a stalker or an abusive ex? 

Dean follows his eyes to a woman coming closer. She's very elegant in a grey pantsuit and a long white fur coat as she walks straight toward them. He can feel her eyes judging him even from thirty feet away, looking at him from head to toes. If he wasn't already self-aware of the number of holes in his jeans, he would definitely be under that gaze. 

"Five hundred dollars," the other man whispers just as the blond woman reaches them. 

"Castiel, dear, you should have told me we would have company, I would have notified the restaurant," the woman says, sending a clearly disapproving look toward Dean as she deposits a kiss on the other man's - (Castiel, apparently, what kind of name is that??) - cheek. 

"Mother, let me introduce you to my boyfriend," Castiel says, looking ill at ease. He's obviously not a very good liar. 

Dean blinks a few times as their attention turns toward him. Castiel seems to be trying to communicate something with his eyes, and Dean frowns in incomprehension for a moment before he gets the hint. 

"Huh. Dean. Winchester," he finally says. "Ma'am," he adds when she just continues to stare at him like he has grease smeared all over his face. He's pretty sure that she wouldn't want to touch his hand if he were to offer it to shake, so he doesn't. 

"Naomi Novak," she introduces herself. "What a delight to finally meet Castiel's new companion," Naomi says, her deadpan tone contradicting her words. "Of course, I would have preferred not to be ambushed by such an announcement. Castiel, you know, that Le Délice hates it when we change our reservation last minute. Who knows if they will even have a table for three," she declares, already composing a number on her phone. 

"It's okay, mother, Dean won't be joining us for lunch."

"Oh, is it because your attire isn't appropriate?" Castiel's mother asks, looking at the holes in Dean's jeans and the big leather jacket that used to be his dad's. "I assure you they won't say a word about it if you're with us," she reassures. 

Dean squirms a little, wondering what the hell is even happening. Ten minutes ago he was buying a coffee and going at his day like a perfectly normal person (well, albeit a homeless and jobless one). Now, his fashion sense is being criticized by the mother of a man who is pretending to be his boyfriend. Did a piano fall on his head or something? Has he finally lost his mind?

He looks to the man beside him. He's scratching the side of his neck in nervousness. The move makes his coat fall a little over his wrist, revealing a freaking Rolex watch. Dean looks back to the woman, eyes sliding on her diamond earrings and the huge rock around her neck. 

You know what? That's not okay. His stomach has been crying for food since last morning, and he's what? Supposed to help this stranger by saying no to free lunch at one of the most prestigious restaurants in town? Fuck no. He's gonna eat like a king and make a few hundred bucks off the back of those rich assholes. 

"In that case, it would be my pleasure to join you," Dean announces with his most charming smile. 

"What?" Castiel can't help but bark. "But y-your work thing?" he tries, sweating. The round panic eyes are back. Dean sends him his best shit eating grin. They both know he now either has to invite this stranger to lunch or reveal the lie to his mother. The guy is trapped and may as well continue to play along.

"It's not as important as a chance to finally get to know your mother, honey," Dean answers. "He's told me so many nice things about you, Naomi. Can I call you Naomi?"

"Of course, dear," Naomi says. She looks a little wide eyed too, probably thrown by Dean turning on the charm to the max.

"Perfect! We shall go now, we don't want to miss your reservation. I do hope it won't be too much of a bother for them to add a chair to your table," Dean says. He should probably tone it down with the pompous tone, because he nearly added an English accent here. 

Naomi leads the way, and Dean is going to follow when a hand grabbing his arm makes him fall a few steps behind. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Castiel hisses.

"Acting as your boyfriend?" Dean says innocently. By Castiel's glare, he's not fooled. 

"I asked you to nod silently for ten minutes, not to do method acting for a whole meal," he reproaches. Naomi sends a look behind her shoulder and Castiel smiles at her like there is no worries, indicating for her to lead the way, 

Dean shrugs. "I had some free time."

"I'm not giving you more money than planned, if that's your goal," Castiel says with a suspicious squint. 

"I'm fine with the five hundred as long as you're also paying for lunch," Dean says, wiggling his eyebrows as they walk toward the restaurant. Something passes on Castiel's face that Dean can't quite identify. The other man stares at him for so long that it's a wonder he doesn't trip. He finally relents with a long suffering sigh as they enter 'Le Délice'. 

Apparently, Naomi Novak is prominent enough that they don't mind changing her reservation after all. They're seated at a table near a legit indoor fountain. Dean is looking around, trying not to let show how impressed he is by the place. The walls are made of stone and covered in frescos that he always thought you couldn't see outside of a church or castle. A waiter gives him a leather covered menu and Dean opens it eagerly. After a few niceties to Naomi, they're asked what they want to drink. Dean has an inkling that he probably shouldn't ask for a beer in an establishment like this. 

"Same for me, please," he says after Castiel ordered some wine with a name Dean can't pronounce. At least, he hopes that's wine. Who knows. Hell, in this place the bottles of water are probably more expensive than his usual brand of beer. 

Dean starts to second guess his decision when he realizes that the menu is in french. What is it with rich people and France? He just wants a damn steak, how do you say that in french? Is there even steaks here or is it just frog legs and snails? Oh god, he hopes not. 

"I think I'll take the duck today," Naomi notes. "Nobody cooks it better than chef Francis. How about you Dean? Have you ever come here before?" There is a mean glint in her eyes that says she knows perfectly well he hasn't. Hell, from the side eyes he got from everyone as they crossed the room, everyone here knows he's not from their world. There are three holes in his jeans, threads hanging from the bottom and his dad's leather jacket probably should have ended up in the trash about three years ago. Even now, it's still too big for him and the sleeves are so scruffed that they're nearly paper thin. The original dark brown color has turned to a light beige in most places from wear. His scruff is just the bad side of too long now, and he hasn't had a haircut since April, strands starting to fall into his eyes. At least, he's wearing his best plaid shirt and managed to wash up last night, so he's not smelling too rank. Why would Castiel pick him out of all the people in the street at that moment to play his boyfriend? It makes no sense at all. From the guy's obvious discomfort as he hides behind his menu, he probably realizes it. 

"Actually, Naomi, duck sounds like a delicious idea," Dean says, voluntarily ignoring her question. To be honest, he’s never even eaten duck before, but it's poultry so it probably taste like chicken. You can't go wrong with chicken, right? His stomach certainly likes the idea, gurgling so loudly that he has to hide it behind a cough. 

Castiel ends up ordering some fish and soon their drinks arrive. Dean barely has time to sip at his red wine before Naomi pounces. 

"So, tell me everything, how did you two meet?"

Dean nearly chokes on his drink. Castiel seems to gulp down his whole glass. 

"We met at a coffee shop. Dean was in line in front of me and we started to talk," Castiel explains, not quite meeting anyone's eyes.

"How quaint!" Naomi exclaims, clasping her hands in delight. "I'm just sorry that you didn't tell me about it sooner, Castiel. How long have you been keeping this charming man a secret?"

"Not-," Castiel clears his throat, "-not long."

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you Dean. I sure wish this luncheon will give me the chance to learn everything about you."

Luncheon? Who even talks like that outside of Downton Abbey?

"I do hope I'll get to keep some mystery, we wouldn't want this guy to lose interest," Dean says with a wink. He pats Castiel's hand on the table. Should he hold it or something? How open on PDA are gay people those days? Not that he knows more about how heterosexual couple act in public anyway, especially in those crowds. It's probably safer to keep the PDA to a minimum here. 

"You have to at least tell me some things. For one, what career path are you on?" She looks like a shark circling her prey. 

"I'm a mechanic," he lies. He'd rather stay as close to the truth as possible. It's a little unfair that Castiel is letting him do all the talking when his initial demand was that he stayed silent, especially since it's his skin that Dean is apparently saving, but the guy looks like he's swallowed a potato whole. 

"Oh, that's...interesting," Naomi says in that insincere tone of hers. She looks like he told her he was fucking children’s corpses every full moon. He's two seconds away from telling her that he's actually jobless, penniless, and homeless, just to see her face, when Castiel intervenes. 

"How is Anna's engagement party coming on?" 

Thankfully, this seems to be a subject Naomi loves because she tells them about every aspect of the future party all the way through their meal. 

Duck, as it turns out, is actually very good. It's more like red meat than chicken, which is a great surprise. Although, Dean isn't a fan of the way rich people put tiny quantities of food in very large plates. He eats all the dinner rolls and scrapes every single bit of sauce out of his plate, yet he's still hungry by the end of it. He nearly starts crying when the waiter asks them if they'll take dessert and Naomi declines. He's starting to wonder if that little piece of duck was worth sitting through lunch with her. 

"That sounds like you're turning this into a wonderful event, mother, Anna must be delighted," Castiel compliments. 

"Oh, you know your sister," Naomi waves it off. "It sure feels like a nice opportunity to introduce your new beau to everyone."

Dean frowns. What's a beau? Is that him? That's not him, right?

"I wouldn't dare take any attention away from Anna," Castiel tries to refuse. 

"Don't be daft, you know your sister won't care. Everyone will be so happy that you've finally found-" she passes a long look, over Dean, like she's doubting anyone would actually approve of him. She certainly doesn't seem to, "-someone," she finishes lamely. 

"Oh shoot, I don't think I'm available that night," Dean tries to play off. 

"I'm not sure I've told you the date of it yet."

"Cas did," he says. The other man perks up at the surname, but whatever, 'Castiel' is a mouthful. "And I have this huh work thing, you know? Bummer," Dean says with a fake pout. 

"What kind of 'work thing' can a mechanic possibly have on a Saturday evening?"

Dean tenses up, pursing his lips. "One he can't get out of?"

"Nonsense, you're coming," Naomi brushes off. And that is that apparently. Shit. There is a vein about to pop on Castiel's forehead. "Castiel, dear, you look a little white. Was the fish okay?"

"I-Yeah-I-Actually, do you think we could possibly cut our lunch short? I am indeed feeling quite unwell."

"Of course, my dear," Naomi says, leaning forward until her hand touches his forehead. "You're as clammy as a fish. I should come home with you, and make sure you're okay," she announces, taking her napkin off her lap and deposing it on the table, ready to stand up. 

"No!" Castiel stops her, a little too brusquely. "I-Dean will take good care of me, don't worry," he says, getting up and grabbing Dean's arm so he does so too. Dean follows his lead, all too happy to get out of here. "Stay and enjoy your tea, mother."

"If you say so," Naomi says, sending an unsure look at Dean, obviously upset at being brushed off in his favor. "Call me this evening, or I'll worry all night."

"Of course, mother," Castiel acquiesces, kissing her cheek. Dean hovers behind him. Is he supposed to kiss her too? Wave hello? Shake her hand? 

"Dean," she says as what is apparently a sufficient goodbye. Thank God. "I'll be sure to see you on Saturday," she reminds just as they're walking away. 

Cas turns on him as soon as they're outside the restaurant. 

"What was that?!" he asks, not quite yelling. He starts pacing, rubbing a hand through his already pretty ruffled hair. 

"You owing me five hundred bucks? Dude, you're lucky I don't charge you more for the fresh hell I just lived through."

"You went through hell? You?!" his pacing gets faster and Dean has an idea that if he stops pacing he might punch him in the face. 

"That's what you get for asking this kind of stuff from a perfect stranger," Dean shrugs, pushing a pebble with the point of his shoe. His red sock is peeking out from a tiny hole near his big toe. It's such a contrast to how grand everything and everyone looked in there. It's making him feel like shit. He's maybe feeling a tiny bit guilty for trapping Castiel like that too. He doesn't seem like a bad guy, albeit one with a psycho mom.

Cas turns on him, eyes glaring and mouth open in what will probably be a flow of reproaches. He stops himself before he says anything though, seeming to deflate. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe instead, shoulders falling. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should be thanking you. I have no right to make you any reproach when I brought this on myself."

"It wasn't so bad, though, was it? I mean, I think I sold it?" Dean asks, a little hesitant. He even used pedantic talk and everything. 

"You did as well as could be expected."

"That's not much of a compliment…". 

"I shouldn't take more of your time," Cas apologizes, taking his wallet out. Dean goggles at the amount of cash in there. 

"You really shouldn't have that much cash on you, that's, like, asking for trouble."

Castiel squints at him like he's wondering if that means Dean is gonna rob him for a moment, before he hands him a wad of cash. 

Dean's eyes bulge out, "That's way more than five hundred dollars."

"There's also an advance in there to buy some clothes for the engagement party."

"The what now?" Dean blinks dumbly for a second until his brain catches up to what is happening. "Dude, no, I'm done!" 

"You were the one to push it so far in the first place," Castiel reminds. Accuses, really. 

"I just wanted to eat fancy food, okay! Not, like, go steady."

"There will be lots of food at my sister's engagement party," Castiel tries to persuade. Badly. 

Dean gives him a nonplussed look. The cash feels heavy in his hand. He's never had so much before. This could help him get a new start. What's a night of playing Downton Abbey compared to the many many nights he might not have to freeze his ass off in the backseat of his car thanks to it?

"Why are you even doing this anyway? And why would you choose me? Do I look that desperate for cash?"

"No," Cas says after what's definitely a too long pause. Dean scowls. "You were in front of me in the coffee shop line. I heard you talking on the phone. You said you needed some cash to buy a new outfit for a job interview. Begged, really."

"Where the fuck do you get on listening in on other people’s conversation?" 

"I didn't listen, I just heard."

"You know, what? Fuck you," Dean spits, "I don't need that bullshit in my life right now." He has enough cash to get to Austin and replenish his stock of food, even buy some new clothes. At least this way he can keep his dignity rather than being insulted by a bunch of rich assh-

"Please," Castiel begs, following him as Dean storms away. "You don't understand…"

"Oh I understand perfectly," Dean says, stopping and turning around so brusquely that they nearly bump into each other. "You think you can shit on other people from your high horse and that they'll still do your deed for a few hundred bucks. Well, I'm not your freaking puppet, man."

"I have never shitted on any-" he stops himself with a frustrated groan, before turning on the puppy dog eyes. "Dean, please. Listen to what I have to say at least?"

"I know what you're gonna say. I've seen that movie before, Cas. You're going to bring me to that party, so you can parade me around like I'm some earned price or some shit. Meanwhile you get to appease mommy dearest and the clan of hyenas putting pressure on you to find a husband, while still having the satisfaction of giving them a huge fuck you by bringing a guy like me instead of the golden boy they're dreaming of."

"I-" Castiel stops himself, pursing his lips. "That's actually not that far from the reality."

"Of course it isn't. Told you, I've seen that trope before. Except this is real life and your plan sucks, so you can keep your money and I'll keep my dignity. Just grow a pair and tell them all to fuck off, will ya?"

"You sure do like saying that to people," Castiel sulks. "Are you sure you can't do it for me?" 

"Oh believe me I would love to tell your mom to fuck off, but I like my balls attached to my body, so that's a hard pass."

Castiel laughs slightly at that and Dean can feel his own anger start to abate at the sound. "Good self-preservation instinct on your part," Cas mumbles. The puppy look is still there, except now it's making him feel like he's kicked the puppy.  

"You know, we're in the 21st century, right? You shouldn't feel pressured to the point of inventing a boyfriend. Who gives a shit about that nowadays?"

"My family does," Castiel answers in a long sigh. "You don't get it, how could you... I have three brothers, Dean," Castiel explains. "Two sisters. My little sister, who is just nineteen, just got engaged. I was already seen as the irremediably unwed one and now I…," he pauses, sending a nervous look at Dean, looking ashamed.

"Oh come on. How hard can it be? You're rich, objectively good looking. Do you have weird kinks or something?"

 "I-I wouldn't know. I've never even been in a relationship before," he confesses, looking at the ground.

"When you say 'relationship', you don't mean you've never…" Dean inquires. Cas' cheeks redden, and Dean blows like he just got punched. "Wow. That sucks."

"Yes, it's very pathetic."

"What? Eh no, it's not pathetic. Surprising, yeah. But, to each their own, you know?"

Cas inclines his head like he's not sure he does know. 

"I'm sorry I tried to drag you in all of this. You seem like a good man. You don't deserve-"

"-to be served on a platter to your family?" Dean asks, searching Castiel's gaze until they exchange a smile. 

"Yes. That." The man is still looking dejected. The money is still in Dean's hand. That duck really was good. Damn it.

"The food better be freaking awesome," Dean relents with a frustrated grunt. Castiel seems instantly relieved. "And you're not pretty woman-ing me," he warns, pointing a finger at the other man. "I'm choosing my own clothes and I don't give a shit if I don't know which fork to use for fish."

Castiel's head is tilted and he's blinking owlishly, like he doesn't understand a word that Dean is saying. Figures. He's not sure how he could convince anyone that he's this dork's boyfriend, honestly. Naomi certainly looked like she wasn't fooled. 

"I'm sorry for the way my mother behaved toward you. I assure you, being yourself will be amply sufficient to the task."

"Dude, the way y'all talk, where do you come from, Victorian England?"

"I-I don't think I have English ancestry, no. Why?"

They blink at each other for some time. 

"I must be a freaking masochist."

Cas' face scrunches up even more in incomprehension. 

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so: no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods. 

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new boyfriend. What a weird day... 

You can read the rest on AO3

#destiel #destiel fic #deancas #dean/castiel #dean/cas #spn fic #ao3 fic #destiel fanfiction #AU #pretend/fake relationship #homeless!dean #rich!cas #myfic #my fic #castielific #castielificfic

[hailbop1701]

Chapter Two: A Pale Horse

Chapter two is here guys! I'm so excited to see what you all think! Things are starting to heat up and they discover who Bones really is. Each chapter is going to be darker than the last so it's all down hill from here. I just want to say a big "THANK YOU!" to my wonderful beta @dw-writes you my dear are amazing and I truly appreciate you taking the time to do this for me.

- H ❤🖖

“Welcome to HELL,” Kirk whispered, a deep frown marring his face. As soon as McCoy drew his phaser Jim did the same.

“Bones…”

McCoy gritted his teeth; if his own personal ‘Red Alert’ wasn’t flashing before, it sure as hell was now. “We need to go,” McCoy said with finality, his searching eyes darting around the area.

Lieutenant Beckworth appeared on his other side, phaser raised, following McCoy’s movements. The three Ensigns behind them warily followed suit, raising their phasers much more slowly and unsure.

“Sir?” Ensign Bitar asked, perplexed. McCoy could smell the excitement and adrenaline pouring out of her. Kirk glanced over his shoulder at the young woman, giving her a little smile that looked more like a grimace.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Bitar, Bones is just being paranoid, as usual,” he offered in a teasing manner, trying to keep his people calm.

Leonard snorted humorlessly at his best friend’s words. “Oh yeah, the obvious sign in front of us has nothing to do with my paranoia, Captain,” he muttered dryly as they moved forward through the long entrance. ‘An Atrium,’ he observed as he took in every possible exit and vantage point.

‘Cameras; we’re being watched,’ McCoy took a deep steadying breath. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, he felt his stomach do a flip at the familiar smell: death and decay mixed with blood. “Jim I know you think I’m being paranoid here but we really need to go I’m not fucking kidding this time.”

Kirk looked at the CMO with pursed lips and careful eyes, after a second he nodded. “Okay Bones, we’ll go back and regroup.” The Captain pulled out his communicator and flipped it open. The thing chirped as he worked the dial. “Kirk to Enterprise. Come in Enterprise,” there was nothing but static.

Leonard cursed again under his breath.

“Oh no,” Ensign Lawrence squeaked, cringing at the glare Bitar gave him that clearly said, ‘Grow a pair’

A low amused feminine chuckle echoed throughout the room, it came from everywhere and nowhere. The giant screen that hung crookedly on the wall beside them buzzed and flickered to life. A figure sat lazily in a Captain’s chair; the image was too dark to see them clearly, but the silhouette made it clear that it was a woman.

“Jim!” McCoy hissed suddenly as the Captain moved steadily closer to the screen a good twenty feet away. Kirk held up his hand to reassure McCoy that he was alright and kept walking. Growling, Leonard strode purposely after him with his phaser at the ready.

Beckworth and his little gaggle turned so that their backs were covered. “I have a bad feeling about this, LT.” Lawrence hissed his voice pitching slightly.

“Shut it, Gabe,” Bitar growled out keeping her voice low.

“Both of you, can it!” Beckworth barked, not taking his eyes off the darkened corners of the room. Lawrence hummed nervously but kept a steady hand with his phaser as he scanned the room for any threats.

Chekov crept next to McCoy, his tool kit gently slapping against his hip, the strap digging uncomfortably against the kid’s neck. He had his phaser raised slightly but kept it pointed at the ground as Kirk walked ahead of him.

“Damn kids,” McCoy hissed. The nervous and foreboding energy crackling around him made his hair stand on end and his teeth itch. He split his senses apart: he kept his eyes on Kirk and the room before him, while he listened to what was behind him: Beckworth’s steady breaths, Lawrence’s hitched nervous gait, Bitar’s grinding teeth, she was gripping and regripping her phaser, and then, there was Chekov - the kid was mumbling in Russian, doing his best to keep calm. McCoy’s brow furrowed a little at his words, ‘Something about different plants and how to identify poisonous flora...he was reciting a botany textbook,’ he thought, a brief flash of amusement and approval coursed through him. ‘Whatever works kiddo,’ he thought as he watched Kirk come to an abrupt stop, staring up at the screen with wide eyes.

Following his gaze, McCoy couldn’t help but snort and roll his eyes. Kirk was practically salivating and Leonard had a strong urge to smack the man upside the head to get him to focus on the problem at hand. He didn’t but he really should’ve.

A beautiful Orion woman grinned wickedly down at them. She sat sprawled on what had to be a pilfered captain’s chair leaving nothing to the imagination; her curves were captured perfectly in the armor she wore. A phaser dangled from her fingers and rested on her inner thigh. The come hither look she shot him caused McCoy to raise an eyebrow, sure he loved a beautiful woman like the next guy. Most men (and in large cases women) would have been attracted to her. But he could only feel annoyance and disappointment. He could see under the beauty, down to her core. There was nothing there but a cold empty space, like a black hole but more crazy and sadistic.

Internally he practically sees Reaper poke and prod at the back of his mind wanting to take the reins on this one. Things weren’t right and Doctor Leonard McCoy wasn’t needed right now. Everything here already smelt dead and the away team was in way over their heads, if the warning bells in his head were anything to go by.

McCoy relaxed into a better stance and held himself like he used to, he practically melted into John Grimm again. His eyes were a touch colder, his walk more sure and graceful. Moving forward automatically Reaper stood slightly in front of Kirk and Chekov like an unmovable shield.

The scowl on his face became more and more pronounced the longer he and the woman stared at one another. Kirk looked back and forth between Reaper and the Orion woman, totally confused and in mild offense. She wasn’t interested in the starship captain what-so-fucking-ever.

The Orion chuckled again upon seeing Reaper’s darkening face. She leaned forward so she was in the light. Her face was as pleasant as the forests on Dakala; beautiful and completely deadly.* She was the hunter and they were the prey; they were right where she wanted them. She grinned wickedly before sighing, sounding almost bored. She looked at her phaser casually before she started speaking, her voice light and airy like a calm summer morning. “Your Earth history has a story. A story of four horsemen and one of them was death,” she drawled, amused by the tale she spun for them. Like a spider playing with her caught flies, the woman kept going, “He rode upon a pale horse bringing the peace and silence of death to all who oppose him,” she disappeared and the image of Enterprise filled the screen, pale in the light of the stars. Jim stiffened, an angry glint flashed in his ocean eyes before the look of shock and disbelief filled them.

Reaper felt the floor disappear beneath him; the air in his lungs left as if Sarge had come back and punched him in the stomach. The next set of images were all too familiar, they were of him but from so long ago.

“RRTS Unit Six: Full name Johnathan Leonard Grimm - Call-ID ‘Reaper’ - born October, 21st, 2017,” Kirk whipped his head around confusion coloring his face. The picture on the screen showed John in full gear, hair buzzed down, jaw set, and eyes void of emotion. The perfect soldier. “Bones? ” Jim’s voice was hushed so the others couldn’t hear him. Though they were looking at the screen with their own confused expressions. Jim sounded shaky and unnerved, no doubt he was being plagued by memories of Kahn.

John took a deep breath and turned his dark hazel eyes onto his best friend. “Sorry kid,” was all he could muster at the moment his usual southern drawl gone. He sounded almost defeated, he never wanted Jim to find out like this. Hell, he didn’t want the kid to find out at all if he could help it.

A flash of multiple emotions shot through Jim’s eyes before settling on a blank expression that would make a Vulcan proud.

The screen split down the middle showing two different starship bridges. One belonging to the Orion bitch (who was enjoying the drama unfolding in front of her immensely) and the bridge of the Enterprise. His crew, his friends, stared back at them - him - in shock, horror, and hurt confusion. All except for Spock of course he was doing his insufferable Sphynx impression again. Though his eyes spoke volumes; fascination, anger, and pity?

The Orion leaned forward licking her lips,

“I’ve caught myself a Reaper” she giggled almost bouncing up and down in her seat. John growled low, almost baring his teeth, but she seemed to love that.

“What do you want?” Kirk bellowed, throwing his hands up in the air, the phaser hand flying wildly. John tilted his head just enough to avoid being cuffed.

“A game Captain! It’s quite simple really; all you need to do for the sake of yourselves and your crew is to survive!” her voice was sickly sweet and patronizing like she was explaining to a five-year-old how to play a quick game of poker.

‘Yeah, she’s fucking insane,’ John thought dryly with no amusement.

Kirk glowered at the woman, “You seem to know who we are but we have no damn clue about you, so tell me before I come up with something unpleasant,”

The Orion smirked and leaned back. Crossing her legs she pouted for a second in thought, she was weighing the pros and cons of having her name out there it seems. After a moment of deliberation, she waved a hand at the muffled warning coming from the background. “Call me Veera.” Veera’s eyes slid from Kirk over to John again, a predatory stare if there ever was one. Sighing he stepped forward so he was a few feet in front of the group “I’m sure you have almost everything figured out, don’t you John?” she murmured knowingly.

Reaper’s jaw clenched at the use of his birth name, “I imagine you blocked us off, no transporter, no direct contact with the Enterprise. Other than what you got set up and I reckon that you put more than just us through this little game of yours. How many are watching Veera?” he let his southern drawl color his voice again.

The woman clapped slowly at his little assessment, she nodded her head approvingly “I activated a jamming device just after you teleported onboard, the holovid the Enterprise and my little collection of misfits are being streamed, is through the station itself. And yes you’re right, you’re not the only ones to play. I had to test and test and test before I could let you find me!”

“The missing ships,” Jim hissed in realization, his fists clenched and he visibly shook with anger.

Veera shrugged nonchalantly, “They were such a bore! They lost way too easily but I suppose it gave us more time to play around with that serum of yours. You do remember C-24 right, John?”

Reaper almost choked at her words, the horror on his face was abundantly clear for everyone who had eyes on him. They were either grinning madly or filled with dread and concern. He did his best to calm his breathing, the panic attack that had been looming in the back of his mind was bubbling to the surface.

Jim may have been angry at him and wanted answers but he still stepped closer holding a hand out just above John’s shoulder, “Bones breathe,”

Veera mockingly pouted, “Those memories of yours must be awful, I’ve read every report the - oh what were they called - the UAC had on you, and honey it was delicious. How many did you kill to keep your blood away from them? How many did you slaughter when you found your sister and her family slaughtered in their beds?”

There were several gasps from spectators. John’s blood boiled and he burned like he was being raked over hot coals. Jim’s jaw dropped and his eyes grew sad before he covered it up again knowing that he hated pity. He didn’t dare look at the others or at the Enterprise crew, their emotions were clear by the tense silence. Veera giggled again, her white teeth glowed in the dim light of her ship as she grinned madly.

Reaper’s hands clenched into fists, his whole body shaking, something must have flashed in his eyes because Jim stepped away from him, motioning for the others to do the same. Veera chuckled darkly and tilted her head as she listened to someone off-screen.

She hummed excitedly “I’ve left you a little something to help you, and you’re going to need it, John. These creatures are much more different from what you remember. They will infect anyone and every one good or bad and they are oh so hungry,” And with that, the screen faded to black.

John sucked in a breath pushing back whatever he was feeling into a box and locked it away. ‘Grieve for this life later, you have a job to do’ he thought sadly. His eyes scanned the room and immediately found a crate lying off to the side on an information desk. Striding over to it John quickly tore open the lid sending it sailing across the room. Someone cursed behind him in surprise, he ignored the small group as he looked through the crate of supplies.

“You’re actually trusting that crazy bitch? What if she rigged the stuff?” Lawrence asked incredulously.

Beckworth appraised Reaper with a new outlook before shaking his head, “Nah she wants him to play too much. Wants to draw out the game not shorten it,”

John pulled out four tac vests with a grumble, looking over at Kirk he shook his head, “Get that neon sign off,” he indicated to his command gold. Jim wasn’t entirely sure what he was more surprised by the order itself or that he automatically followed it without question. “You too kid,” John mumbled, shooting Chekov an apologetic look. The young Russian scrambled in setting his things down so he could yank off his overshirt.

“Damn I’m happy I wore pants for this shit,” Bitar grumbled as she and two others from security shucked their colored shirts. Reaper huffed a humorless laugh, walking over to Jim he helped the captain into the vest securing it before moving on to Chekov. Freezing for a moment John cocked his head to the side, he could hear pounding footsteps and inhuman screams; they were getting closer by the second. Cursing he pulled off his blue shirt, tossing it to the side. He grabbed a kit belt from the crate and swung it around his hips. Tucking his phaser away for later John pulled out a few old-fashioned projectile weapons.

Shaking his head John loaded the belt with everything he could fit. Lieutenant Beckworth was working on doing the same thing. Checking over a replicated desert eagle Reaper glanced over his shoulder before hurrying in his movements.

“You know something we don’t, again?” Jim asked ice coating his tone. John in his hurried movements almost forgot how pissed off Kirk still was. The man hid it well. The others froze but John kept going letting the coldness waft over him.

“They’re coming and we really shouldn’t be here when they do,” was all he said clipping a couple of grenades to his belt.

“Vhose coming?” Chekov asked quietly it was the first time in while the kid spoke, his voice was cautious, fear only just breaking the surface.

Reaper’s forehead scrunched a memory floating to the surface. “Well the first time I faced these things, a man from my unit called them demons. He was the god fearin’ type,” he muttered in explanation. That made Kirk grimace and Chekov wince as if he regretted asking. John shoved a second knife into his boot and clipped another to his belt on his hip. The last thing he pulled from the crate made him pause and mutter a string of curses under his breath. In his hands sat an old, yet new rifle.

“Damn,” he shook his head ruefully hating the fact that he missed its weight in his hands.

“Old friend?” Jim asked sourly making John wince ever so slightly.

“You could say that,” he mumbled.

John placed his finger over the scanner and felt as his chest tightened as it rang out, “Former RRTS member verified, Call sign ‘Reaper,’”

He looked over at Jim who held another rifle in his hands, something newer and sleeker. They watched each other carefully, a silent conversation taking place between them.

“We’ll talk about this later,”

Reaper whipped his head around seconds before a door on the other end of the atrium burst open with a shattering crash. The others jumped in surprise,

“Move!” John shouted, pushing them ahead. They ran the length of the Atrium toward a set of glass doors that led to the rest of the station.

“What the fuck are those?” Kirk shouted looking over his shoulder briefly as he ran with John just behind him and Chekov urging them forward.

“As I said, demons!” was all John shouted pushing the two bridge officers through the sliding open glass doors.

John whipped around and fired his rifle. In quick accurate bursts, the screaming creatures fell; he stayed long enough for the others to rush past him before flying through the doors himself. John elbowed the door controls causing the red lights to flare, heavy metal blast doors slammed home just as the demons crashed into the glass.

Jim looked up from his bent position, “What the hell were those?” he asked panting.

Reaper grimaced. “Those were- they were people once before they got infected with a compound called C-24. It’s basically - it’s an extra chromosome essentially,” he groaned at more than one confused face. Running a hand through his hair John moved forward further into what looked to be one of the main shopping areas. ‘Damn malls,’ he thought with a grumble.

“But you were injected by this C-24 da?” Chekov curiously asked, trying to keep the hint of wariness from his voice. John flinched but nodded at the young navigator, “Back when it was first discovered C-24 chose who became a monster or who became - eh superhuman I guess. Healing is fifty percent quicker, strength, moving faster, and unfortunately, aging is...slow,”

John stopped eyeing the vast area critically, “This version of C-24 is twisted beyond comprehension and that’s saying something,” he whispered and gestured for the others to keep quiet as well. John looked to the side allowing one of his ears to face the shopping center.

Taking a deep breath he filtered the sounds around him, he ignored the erratic heartbeats of the team behind him, and the crunch of glass under their boots as they shifted and walked. The faint sound of sleepy growls and snorts made John purse his lips, it was pretty far off to immediately worry about. ‘Best to keep an eye out anyway,’ he thought biting the inside of his cheek.

“Superhuman, does that mean hearing as well?” Bitar asked incredulously catching onto what John was doing.

The man looked at her a bit sheepishly, he opened his mouth to respond but the Captain interrupted with: “Wait a minute super hearing? Does that mean during the academy…”

John chuckled dryly “Oh yeah, every time. Why do you think I started carrying earbuds with me everywhere I damn went?”

Kirk blanched looking mortified “So you- oh no,” he whispered mostly to himself before laughing nervously at John’s little crooked smirk.

Reaper jerked his head in the direction of the railway system. “Come on Dynamo,” he snorted, making Kirk go completely red in the face out of embarrassment. Lawrence and Chekov snorted covering their laughter with little coughs.

“So I’m guessing you hear all the gossip, McCoy?” Beckworth asked amused, both Chekov and Lawrence became quiet.

John rolled his eyes calling the tram, “Yeah, not very creative if I’m going to be completely honest,”

Jim choked on a laugh remembering what they called McCoy on the ship and in the academy, “Some of those nicknames aren’t legal on most planets I think,” he pointed out smirking. John just scowled at his best friend - well, hopefully, they were still best friends anyway. He didn’t really want to think about that right now, the thought that he might have to leave the Enterprise hurt enough as it was.

----------oOo----------

The tram hummed and slid to an easy stop, moving in front of the group John readied his weapon and listened. No movement, no snarling, and no stench of death, they were clear. The doors hissed open just as he lowered his rifle to point at the ground. The only thing John could smell was faint traces of blood and dry air.

“Clear,” Beckworth confirmed coming up to stand beside him.

John had to silently applaud the man, he stepped up without hesitation. He wasn’t deterred by what they were up against nor was he rattled by the revelation of who “Leonard McCoy” really was. He had a job to do, and he was going to damn well do it. John nodded to Henry as he entered the tram, double and triple-checking to make sure it was safe for the others. Bitar and Lawrence followed suit while Beckworth stuck with the Captain and Chekov. They were the most important of the away team, that didn’t change.

Chekov scurried over to the tram controls and grimaced. The conductor's seat was smeared with blood; enough blood to convince the young navigator that whoever worked here was surely dead. Pavel jumped when a hand gently landed on his shoulder.

“You okay kid?” John asked softly, his eyes showed so many emotions but the ones that stuck out to Chekov the most was- understanding, pain, grief, and steely determination.

Swallowing hard Pavel squared his shoulders and nodded, “Da, I’m alright,” he whispered. John looked at him for a long few seconds before nodding and squeezing his shoulder.

“Bring up a map of the base if ya can. We need to see what we’re working with and the best way to get out,” John said letting his southern twang color his voice, it had its desired effect as Chekov relaxed further. The kid hummed as he worked at the console, muttering to himself about equations and formulas. John drifted back to where the rest of the away team sat. They were in a heated discussion about their plan of action. John leaned against one of the handrails silently listening to the debate. Jim was in charge of course, but the young Captain valued the opinions of his crew.

“We need to take down the jammer so we can beam the hell out of here,” Ensign Bitar said, arms crossed, the girl was terrified. John was rather impressed at how well she was hiding it.

Lawrence sat hunched over in one of the plastic seats head in his hands. He was continuously pulling at his hair. “How are we going to do that when we don’t know where the hell it is?” he groaned tilting his head up at the young woman. Bitar scowled at him but otherwise said nothing. Beckworth leaned back with a heavy sigh, he looked to be deep in thought. John’s gaze moved to Kirk, the kid was pacing back and forth muttering under his breath. Jim was working on a plan, and just because it was him it was going to be crazy.

Growling in frustration Jim stopped in front of John, “Got any ideas?” he asked bitingly.

John chewed on the inside of his cheek, “Chekov is working on getting us a map, so we know what we’re dealing with. I think our best bet is to either make our way to the base's bridge or to engineering.” he said with a shrug. Kirk opened his mouth but snapped it shut again,

“The bridge will give us all the information that we need. It being a starbase means it will also be connected to operations.” Jim mused running a hand through his hair. John nodded slowly,

“Genesis is also connected to Marcus and Section 31 so along the way we’ll most likely find a lot of classified information. You being Captain of the fleet’s flagship also means that you’re would technically be under orders to retrieve all classified data and bring it back to HQ,” John let the unsaid “Including me,” hang in the air. The silence was almost deafening. Bitar looked down at her feet, Lawrence bit his nails nervously, and Beckworth frowned but ready to do whatever his Captain asked of him. Jim’s jaw clenched and he shook his head in denial,

“You got that map, Chekov?” John asked without having to turn to see the navigator enter the room.

Pavel sniffed, clearing his throat, “Da, I have the map of the station. I was also able to determine which areas are safe and which are breached.” Chekov handed the PADD over to John who gave the young man a tight smile of thanks.

He showed the device to Jim who began to swipe through it for a clear path to the station's bridge. “Shit,” he muttered, brows furrowed in frustration. The only clear path to the bridge was through what would most likely be the most populated areas.

John growled and cursed colorfully under his breath, in all honesty, he wasn’t surprised. “You don’t look, surprised Doctor,” Beckworth noted gruffly. All eyes snapped to the Enterprises CMO.

The man gave a shrug and spoke without looking up from the PADD in his hands. “Veera is a psychopath, an extremely smart one at that. She wouldn’t have let us near Genesis if this place wasn’t ready for us. She would have planned all of this to the very last detail,” He took and held up the PADD showing the map and raised an eyebrow at everyone, “This will give her audience somethin’ to watch. Chekov how easy was it to get this map?”

The navigator shifted uneasily, “I didn’t have to do anything, it was already downloaded onto the PADD,” he whispered, eyes wide.

“In order to win the game, we have to play the game,” Kirk muttered, taking the PADD back from John. The ex-marine scowled at the thought, he knew Jim was right but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Kirk looked at him grimly, “Looks like you have to put on a show Bones.”

John’s scowl deepened, he looked up at the obvious camera in the corner of the tram car. Flipping it off, John quickly pulled his handgun and shot the offending piece of tech. The rest of the group yelled covering their ears against the crack of the gunshot. Placing his sidearm back John snorted, “I’m just a regular ol’ show pony,”

Tags:

Everything: @thottiewithashotgun, @lauraaan182, @writerdee1701,@stileslover13-blog, @cowenby2, @bluesclues-1234

Hollow Castle: @chook007, @lauranthalasah

#star trek aos #Doom 2005 #Doom!Trek #leonard mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #leonard mccoy is john grimm #john reaper grimm #john grimm #hailey the queen of typos #hollow castle #The Four Horsmen Series #reaper!bones #james kirk #pavel chekov #redshirts #Welcome to HELL

[zelda-ffitzgerald]

MET/FL IA here. Please forgive me if my wording is awkward but I want to get this off my chest. Look when I say I'm IA it means I'm hearing gossip that is at best second hand. Someone heard/saw Ari or Cole or Lili or someone very close to them say/do something and that someone told me and then I tell you. That's the best case scenario. Somethings someone else told them, they tell me I tell you. See how much can be lost in that translation? Like if say I'm friends with KP's cousin (I'm not but it's something like that that 'close' if you would call it that) then I'm going to know a lot of shit but not everything is going to be true especially when they are celebrities and people gossip about them all the time. The info some anons want is so intimate so personal that no one is going to know that short of hacking them or spying on them. Anons seriously wanna know if two strangers have touched genitals and also want proof when the only way to have proof is that if someone very close to them betrays them and then I betray that person. And anons want all this and offer nothing in return. A similar situation has risen before with an IRL out lesbian and Cole. I made the arguement that is being made now 'Well maybe she identifies as a lesbian but he's a celebrity they have been sus on SM so maybe this one time if they were drunk" and I was taken to task. Told that she has never expressed or acted attracted to any man, has openly dated only women, is personally active in the community and IF that is true then obviously whatever changes if any should be kept private to her until she's ready. That to people who identify and (semi) publicly say I am only attracted to the same/opposite gender it's inherently invalidating to say well you have sex with someone who you said you weren't attracted to and that the burden of proof should be higher. Saying a lesbian had sex with a man in general is invalidating (what is the point of people fighting for labels and identity if it all doesn't matter when labels very much matter to people and it isn't up to anyone to say otherwise), it's homophobic, it's misogynistic, and plays into that lesbians just haven't met the right penis shitty ass narrative that some people have. I was humbled when I was rightfully told that ' considering the potential harm of all that there should be better reasons you think they fucked other than "They like each other posts super fast and someone saw them on a train!" As far as I know I have never heard of Cole or Dylan ever being attracted to men or having anything with a man. I personally made it clear that to me considering rumors are so rampant(why chose that one?), there is no corroborating evidence and that invalidating anyone's sexuality (which by the is defined by those who identify as LGBT i.e. If someone bi says you are invalidating them you are. You don't get to argue) is very hurtful to those in the community IMO let's just leave sensitive topics like that alone. It is hurtful and harmful and add nothing to the conversation. TL;DR If it invalidates someone stated sexuality and there is ZERO receipts it's okay to just not touch that.

[fat-acceptance-dropout]

I'm sorry to bother you but do you have any scientific studies showing that it's possible to lose weight and keep it off? I'm morbidly obese and I want to lose weight but I constantly see people talking about how there's so much science showing that fat isn't actually bad and it's impossible to lose weight and if you do it'll just come back, and it's just making me extremely upset and I'm terrified I've ruined my body by letting myself get so fat and there's no way to fix it

Hi there!

I actually get this question often, and Iet me tell you, that fear is very prevalent.

It’s exactly what made me leave the Fat Acceptance community and their belief that weight loss is completely out of control. 

First things first, you haven’t ruined your body. It’s not broken, there’s no need to “fix it”, but you can lose weight if that's what you want. 

Here are a few links I’ve found, they only mention studies, but if you want, I can always dig around for the studies proper; I just need to finish with some work stuff:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/its-not-just-baby-fat/201708/yes-it-is-possible-lose-weight

https://www.vox.com/2016/5/10/11649210/biggest-loser-weight-loss

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4777230/

https://www.pharmacytimes.com/contributor/adam-martin-pharmd-acsm-cpt/2018/04/study-of-10000-patients-shows-how-to-maintain-weight-loss

Here’s the thing, though, and this is what I want you to take away from all of this. 

Losing weight, and keeping it off, is hard. 

It’s not impossible, but it’s hard. 

It’s not complicated, but it’s hard.

It’s not that you’ll magically regain the lost weight. 

It’s not that your body fights you.

It’s not that being fat, or failing to lose weight or failing to keep weight off is a proof of lack of willpower or such nonsense.

It’s that your weight, as it stands today, is the result of years, decades even, of habits.

Eating habits, sleeping habits, exercise habits, coping mechanisms, relationship with food, etc, etc, etc.

Your weight, as it stands today, is the result of how you were raised, is the result of the environment you live in, and yes, it’s the result of your life choices.

You can always change the way you eat long enough to lose weight, but once you reach your goal weight, it’s so easy, so so easy, to fall back into your old habits.

Why?

Because habits, quite literally, are deeply ingrained in us.

Take me, for example; I’ve been exercising for six years now, as well as making an effort to eat better. I lost weight, I’ve kept most of it off and, generally, I’ve changed my life for the better.

I still can’t order a pizza and not eat the whole thing in one sitting.

I’ll still find myself eating entire ice cream pints if I’m feeling down.

I went from exercising two hours at the gym 5 times a week, to barely pushing myself to exercise a couple of hours a week, with this quarantine business, even though my lifestyle remains almost exactly the same?

Why? 

Because those are old habits. 

My 5 years of exercise and healthy eating? Those have nothing on the 24 years of not exercising and eating whatever the hell I wanted.

That is what makes weight loss so difficult.

Hell, let me rephrase that.

That is what makes keeping weight off so difficult. 

Losing weight? That’s easy. There are millions of absolutely unsustainable and dangerous diets that can help you lose weight fast. 

They’re horrible, and unhealthy, but they do make you lose weight.

Weight you will gain back, because again, they’re unsustainable diets.

Not because your body will magically make fat out of nowhere, but because those diets are impossible to keep up for the rest of your life.

And that’s what you need to do to lose weight and keep it off.

Change your lifestyle. 

You need to change first. 

This is mostly the main reason why I changed my blog approach.

When I first started this blog, I was a very angry woman who had realized that, despite what the FA movement had told me, I could very well lose weight.

I was angry, betrayed and driven. I wanted to push everyone into changing their mind about the goddamned movement. 

The more time passed, though? The more I calmed down and realized just how insidious weight gain can be?

The more I realized that, if you want to lose weight and keep it off, you have to be ready to change your lifestyle for good.

That’s why I no longer tell people to lose weight. That’s why I no longer tell people that they’re wrong.

That’s why I simply offer encouragement and tips to people who already started changing.

Because you can’t force people to change, and unless you change, your weight will remain the same.

Think of weight management the same way you’d think of mental health recovery, or the same way you’d think of fighting alcoholism or a drug addiction.

Some people, magnificent unicorns that they are, can go cold turkey.

The rest of us? 

The rest of us will have to do it little by little, day after day, making small changes and small changes, changing yourself little by little.

Let’s use myself as an example again; Though I still have to fight some rather stubborn habits, I have acquired many, many more:

- I walk a lot more now, or at least I used to before the quarantine. But seriously, I went from 2000 steps max to at least 13000 on a regular day.

- I actually exercise and I enjoy it. Like, I willingly pay to go to the gym because I like it.

- I eat my veggies, and have started eating a much more varied diet in general.

- I’m far more conscious about what I eat nowadays. 

Those may not sound like much, but it has helped tremendously. I’ve managed to keep most of my weight loss off for 5 years now (so fuck those studies), I’ve increased my muscle mass, I’m in much better shape than I was in my early twenties, I’ve stopped needing my asthma inhalers, etc, etc, etc.

Little changes add to big changes if you just give them time and stick to them. 

So, ask yourself, are you ready to change?

Here’s the good news.

If you are, then fantastic. Here’s something that you can do starting right now, that will help you get where you want to be.

Start a food diary.

Starting today, grab a notebook, or a post it, or whatever and write down what you eat.

Don’t measure it, don’t cut out foods, don’t change anything about your eating or exercise habits just yet. 

Just start keeping track of your eating habits.

Write down everything you eat, even the little snacks that don't count.

Write down everything you drink. 

Don’t judge yourself, don’t try to find excuses, don’t give any value to anything you eat.

Just write it down.

If you feel like it, make it a mood diary too. Write down how you’re feeling for the day. Write down what would improve your mood. Write down a few quotes you like, draw a little. 

Make the diary yours so that you’re comfortable using it every day.

Here’s the goal of this exercise:

- Form a new habit.

- Become aware of what you eat.

- Have a food log ready for step 2. 

Can you do that?

I promise it’ll help a lot, but you gotta stick to it.

If you do it, come back next week and send me a message.

You can also chat with me here: http://fa-dropout.tumblr.com/ (I don’t check that daily, but I’ll start checking it for you.)

[jpat82]

Death Of The Bachelor

Chapter 2

Bucky laid out on the pool recliner, the sun beating down on his smooth chest. He watched everyone from behind his sunglasses, the couple of women were already in the pool. Bikini clad bodies with droplets of water dripping down as they toyed with the beach ball trying to grab his and Steve's attention.

"I heard Sam was throwing a party tonight. You game?" Steve asked, his arms crossed behind his head as he too watched the women in the large pool.

"Hell yeah, booze, music and women. You know me, plus maybe one of the them will be interesting this time." Bucky replied, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, allowing the warmth of the sun beat down on him.

His penthouse was located in the upper part of the city behind a gated community. Steve has brought these girls with him and even though it was cool that Steve brought company Bucky wanted to find something more entertaining then these two ladies who were playing off at having fun all while poising themselves just to get attention.

"Come on you two, the water feels great." The red head who's name Bucky couldn't remain for the life of him yelled.

"The water feels amazing and it would be a lot more fun if the two of you guys came in." Sherry? Kerri? Melonie? Fuck, he couldn't even remember her name either. Just that she was the blonde one who all about jump him with he opened the front door.

"Maybe in a while girls." Steve shouted back at them with a smile.

———

     You bustled around your apartment, trying to make sure it was clean. You didn't get much down time and what little you did you wanted to make sure you had everything neat and tidy.

     It was already past noon and you had to get ready, you had a event that the other company you worked for was catering. It was some rich house up in the hills and you could not be late this time. Events like these meant really good pay, something you could definitely use after the last year you had.

     After changing into your crisp white blouse and black tie, you pulled on the black skirt that was part of your work attire. You put on some light make up and pulled your hair back, slicking it down and putting a dab of hair product in it so those tiny fly always that always came loose would stay put. Image was everything with the rich, and your boss had told everyone to be on point this time.

     You slipped on some panty hose, the second to the last item you really didn't want to put on. For whatever reason they always made your skin itch but you could ignore that easily because of the stupid heels you had to wear for this event. Dreading it, you pulled those on as well, double checking to make sure that they weren't scuffed before jetting out the door.

    An hour and a twisty road later you pulled up to the extra parking designated for the catering staff. You locked your car as you looked at the mansion, it was a double story, but somehow the modern architecture and sleakness of the building didn't make it look that way.

    Your heels clicked as you headed toward a side door that had a paper in large letters labeled staff. The sounds of music and people laughing came from the brick wall toward what sure was a back deck. Taking a deep breath you entered the building.

    The kitchen was stainless steal and the wait staff was already gathering. Trays upon trays, either ladened down with booze or morsels of food.

     "Alright you guys." Your boss, a petite man shouted as he stood on a chair so everyone could see. "This is going to big night for us, I know we're used to doing wedding and the occasional Wall Street Christmas party but this is a lot bigger."

    You looked around noticing everybody else was listening intently.

     "The people that we are catering for are ridiculously wealthy, famous, and this could launch us into getting more gigs like this. This is a lot of money as I told you all, and the more of these we do, the more all of us make." He stated clearly. "So let's go out there and be as professional as possible."

     You snagged a tray, just like the rest of the staff, it looked to be mostly hard liquor, whiskey front the scent that light wafted as you pulled the tray up by your head. Everyone filed out and you followed suit.

    The sun had set in the short time you had been inside, and gazebo style lights were stung up overhead. A hundred people easily were standing around, some were off to the side dancing around. The pool was unused, lights twinkled off the reflective surface. You didn't wonder why, seeing as how all the women present were dressed to the nines in skimpy clothes and perfect make up.

    The men seemed to be dress more reasonable, jeans and tees.

    It looked like a socialite party that you had seen in movies, but at the same time just people standing around trying to impress one another. Still you made your rounds, offering a drink as you passed from one person to the next.

    "Buck, you want a drink?" You heard from behind you. Slowly you turned, fake smile plastered onto your face even though your anxiety was starting to creep up.

    "Oh, I know you." The sandy haired man stated after you turned to face him.

    "Tequila Sunrise." You grinned back at him, a wave of relief flooding through you.

    "Steve." He chuckled, he was one of the Wall Street men that frequented your bar, not that you ever remembered his name and worst of all he knew it. "When did you start doing catering?"

      "A couple months ago." You shrugged as the chocolate haired man from the other day walked up. "And top shelf whiskey, with just a splash of coke."

     "Hey, aren't you the girl from that one bar?" He asked as he walked up, he looked from Steve to you. "She is from the one bar you told me to go to, right?"

     "Yeah, y/n, one of the best bar tenders in the city." Steve stated proudly turning back to his friend. "His name is Bucky."

    "Dude, I told her my name already." Bucky leaned into his friend and whispered.

     "Yeah, but y/n remembers names about as well as you do. Drinks though, she can remember easily, names not so much." Steve chuckled, giving you a playful wink.

     "You act like I have the worst memory, Steve." You sighed, watching as Bucky took a drink from your tray.

     "Fine, what's my last name? I've been going to the Mayer's Pub for four years, so you should know it by now." Steve asked, eyes widening as he turned and point a man near the doors. "And his name, because he is always with me."

      "Your last name is Rodgers, you drink a tequila sunrise, two years back it was a Jack and Coke. You generally stroll in on Mondays, Wednesday's, and Saturday about 2:30. And yes, 90% of the time you come in with that gentleman down there he orders either a whiskey neat or Rum and Coke." You rattled off, trying desperately to remember the other man's name.

    "It's Sam." Bucky whispered as he leaned in toward your ear, the hint of his cologne catching in the light summer breeze.

     "Sam, Sam Wilson. He works downtown, lawyer and partner at Wilson & Stark." You remembered after the hint.

     "Yeah, Yeah, show off." Steve laughed light heartedly. "So, how long you working tonight?"

    "Hang on, you're working?" Bucky asked, looking over at you with his brows bunched together.

    "Yes, why else would I be wearing torture devises like these on my feet? Or be carrying a tray with drinks?" You jested back. "And to answer your question, Steve, until the party dies down enough not to need us."

    "Smartass." Bucky retorted with a smirk, you heard a whistle and saw one of your coworkers wave at you.

    "Looks like I'm needed elsewhere boys, see ya later." You grinned as you walked off.

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[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

One Night Only 2, Part 5

Dedicated to @muse-of-mbaku and I should've been did this a long time ago. I sowwy. Word Count: 5,290

Warnings: Softboi!Erik, Smut

Erik blinks slowly before touching his locs in a reaction that has come to mean he's not completely sold on your idea or thought process and you should think it through. "Aight so.. your plan is to fly Corey out here to the house to force him to talk to Anaya, but you say he ain't tryna see her or be around her for more than, what, ten seconds..," Erik's brow wrinkles.

"It's because he's emotional," you sigh shaking your head flippantly. "He cries easily when it comes to her and Anthony. Then he feels like a babyback bitch so he doesn't want anyone to see that side of him, but that's just how much he loves her. Which is why he needs to talk to her face to face," you gesticulate. "So I just need you to talk to him and convince him to come here because he might listen to advice coming from another quote-unquote alpha male."

He licks his lips, brow furrowing. "Watch yourself," his eyes twinkle. You offer your hand in relent.

"Chill moe. He's stubborn is all I mean, but that's another reason you could talk to him, y'all have that in common," you cheese. His brows go up in playful warning before you get serious again. "No, but you know as well as I do they belong together. They know it too, they just need to be reminded. I can't handle both of them, I can only hold one at a time. If one walks away I need you there to keep the other from leaving."

"Oh, like that?" He leans back on his elbows looking up from the bed at you as you plot your intentions.

"Bro, like that. Hopefully it doesn't come down to it, but knowing Anaya's temper and Corey's level of petty, it might."

Pulling out his phone. He dials a number and puts it on speaker. It rings twice before Corey's lazy voice picks up.

"They done got to you bruh?"

"My girl sad cuz your girl sad and it's cuz'uh you. Bring ya ass and fix it... Tired of this shit."

"Niggas got work."

"Not no more, we all held up off our schedules for this hoe shit. Get on a plane, you know the address. Don't make me have to come get you."

"Oh you tryna hoe me now? That's cool then, buy me another pair of sneakers when you touch down, bitch."

"Nigga fuck you," Erik's face scrunches.

"Since we hoein' an'shit.. yup. Hit my cash app. Have my gift in hand or be prepared to get that ass beat. Give a fuck if you a rapper nigga."

Just as you're about to step in because the conversation is getting way out of hand, you shut your mouth.

"Whatever bitch, you heard what the fuck I said. Get here," Erik mumbles.

"I said I'm coming, damn."

Corey hangs up and Erik balances the phone in his palm looking at the screen before turning his attention back to you. You don't know what the hell kind of communication that was, but if that was how they communicated, it had nothing to do with you.

"He'll be here.. What you gon' tell Anaya?"

"ANAYA ALREADY HEARD," a muffled voice fogs through the wall. Her room is a few doors away but she is nosey as hell in the next room. Erik's hard squint toward the wall only rips the sputtering snicker roughly from your lips. He's not used to people being nosey in his house.

"My bad," you almost snort when he wipes the particles from his face and stares at his hand like how dare you spit on him. "Stop, it's not poisonous. Lick it," you prompt pushing his hand to his face. He turns away like a baby not wanting the food you're pushing but he doesn't do that when he's kissing you. He leans backward on the bed seemingly to avoid you, but you see where this is going. You climb on top of him and like you suspected, he grips your ass with his free hand while you wrestle with his other thick hand trying to force it near his mouth as he snickers. You have every intention of playing along with his game. "LICK IT," you yell pushing his wrist as he tilts his head. You can feel him getting semi-hard beneath you.

"There are children in this house," Anaya yells through the wall.

"They ain't mine," Erik yells back before flipping you so that he's on top. The sloppiest kiss is what follows and then two chaste ones on your tongue since you refuse to put it back in your mouth.

"What you wanna do about the leaked number," he asks pulling back. You'd already gotten it changed, but you didn't know who posted the number onto twitter in the first place. If it wasn't Armont it had to be a business contact. You doubted it was anyone really close because they could've done it at any point and this seemed like too late in the game for bullshit like that to occur. You hadn't even seen the tweet in question though.. and you'd searched your name and your fan created hashtag #y/ngang.

"I just want to know who did it so I can move on without being paranoid. I can't even find the tweet they said was posted. I think it was deleted," you admit.

"You know damn well shit don't just disappear on the internet," he mumbles sitting up completely to dial another saved number and putting the phone on speaker. "Erik," the voice greets in a professionally chipper tone. "Quentin," Erik responds dully. "My girl's number was leaked on social media and that's a problem for me."

"Safety concerns, I get it," Quentin offers. "Shouldn't be too hard to figure things out. Did she change her number? That's the first thing I'd recommend."

"Yeah she got a new number, but I still need to know who's responsible for this leak or she can't give her new number out like she needs to. It's affecting her career and her lifestyle therefore it's a serious issue for me, you feel me?"

"Oh absolutely! Uhh, what is her account handle? I can check things out and call you back."

Erik gives him the necessary information and hangs up. "That's two problems. What was the third one? The babysitter. What she do?"

"Erik, I was disgusted," you sit up before recounting the situation of child neglect and catching the chick in your closet wearing your clothes. When you'd checked your closet it was clear she'd tried on multiple dresses and even sprayed your Dolce perfume a few times. It wasn't that you were hung up on these material items so much as the principle. She shouldn't have been in your stuff. She didn't know you and you didn't know her. "So not only had she not fed or cleaned up Anthony.. been all up and through my shit.. but when I kicked her out she ain't wanna leave immediately. I had to go downstairs and then I heard the door close like I'd scared her or something. What the fuck?"

He shakes his head unsure of what to say. "She lucky it was you who caught her and not me. She ain't mess with my shit wonder why?"

"I don't know but she weirded me out. Courtney, who we have now hasn't tried anything like that so far."

"Well you fired the other bitch and she ain't been back so things should be alright now."

"You right," you sigh letting it go. "Charge it to the game."

"That's right," he says rising and adjusting his dark grey joggers over his black briefs. "Was that it?"

"Yeah, I didn't expect you to stop and handle everything right now but--"

"Why wait," he interrupts, "Procrastination never helped anything."

"Facts.."

"I'll be in the gym," he calls over his shoulder as he shuffles from the room. Well.. that's that then. You'll just wait now to see what happens.

---

"Use your fans to track it down. Somebody gotta screenshot," Anaya says as she's beside you in the home studio spinning in a rolling chair. You've gotten far off the task of messing around with the sound of instruments for the fifth possible track on your album.. that is, if you don't switch it with the seventh track. Anaya was supposed to be telling you which order was better, but she was on her phone and deaf to the world around her. "You know what, I'll do it so your name doesn't have to get tied to it."

"Thank you because I'm not trying to dig myself deeper into anything stupid. I let my servants do the dirty work for me," you tease.

"BIIIITCH," Anaya rears ready to flame before getting distracted again.

"You got ADD," you comment. She's hooked to that phone.

"You got a nappy ass kitchen," she quips without looking up causing you to flinch at the quickness of the comeback. You feel on the hair at the back of your neck ready to come back at her but trying to find something else. "I'm a mom of a one year old boy, it's a requirement that I know how to multitask. I'm posting now trying to get some info. Hashtag Y/N. Hashtag who has those digits. Hashtag Y/Ngang. Hashtag.... wait. I just had a thought," her head shoots up. Her chair stalls.

"What if it's a page that doesn't like you?!"

"Who doesn't like me? It's me." Pft.

"But if someone's hating on you they don't see you," Anaya gestures to your general area, "They just see a generic image. Some bitch who has everything they want in life."

"I don't... hm.. damn, I do have everything..," you pause, "..but I've worked for it. It wasn't easy."

"You have."

"I may not deserve every good thing that comes--"

"Don't start that doubting shit," Anaya interrupts, her index going crazy to emphasize each point. "You deserve it. You worked for it. Anyone in your ass about it can catch these hands."

"I love it when you talk violent," you tease biting your lip.

"You so stupid. Shut the hell up," her eyes roll. "ANYWAY. I say we create a fake account but make it a hate page and talk shit. Then reach out and see what people are talking about you."

It's a good idea. You hang behind Anaya's shoulder as she creates a throw away email and a fake Twitter account handing you her phone. Instantly, you start hammering out tweets.

@ Y/N give it up, singing is not your ministry sis

People say Y/N is attractive. Okay, but consider seeing an optometrist?

If I have to hear her sing off key one more time I'm cutting my ear off like Van Gogh

"Done," you say handing the phone back to Anaya. She sputters and almost drops the phone. "What the hell," she cackles.

"What? That's the type of thing a hater would say. I've seen things like that said about me before. You've seen it too."

"Okay, but you got them beat in originality," she chuckles spinning in her chair. "Okay so let's search up the hating tags and.. here's an interesting account. There are about three, four, five.. nine tweets about you in this tag from one account. I BET they'd know something. I'm messaging them about my hate for you right now."

You stand over her shoulder to watch the screen as she sends the DM.

"They probably won't resp- Damn that was quick," she mumbles. The minutes slip away as you watch Anaya type back and forth, bullshit to this person on the other side of the screen who seems to absolutely hate every fiber of your being. You expected passive aggressive anger where they'd say something and then move on, but no. It's been twenty minutes and they haven't begun to talk their shit it seems.

And Killmonger doesn't even love her. I heard that he's gone all the time and they're not really together, it's just a publicity stunt so she can profit from his image since she lacks talent of her own.

"What the fuck....," you stare at the messages that keep popping up. Lowkey it's kind of bothering you, the passion and the time that they dedicate to hating you. Also, who is clocking Erik's schedule to know when he is and is not home?

Ooh tea? I need sources, Anaya responds with the eyes emoji. She's linked to a tea page with a discussion board consisting of twenty eight pages of back and forth chat, as well as pictures and videos of you.

What the hell....

For a bunch of people who claim to hate you, they spend a lot of time being hyperfixated on you. They look like fans. On page four there's the screenshot in question taken from Twitter and reposted with laughing emojis and various people saying that they called just to call you a bitch and hang up. Of course, you know for a fact that was a lie, you hadn't answered.

The poster of the tweet exposing your number seems to be a different account than the one you and Anaya have been chatting to. Anaya looks up the account and it's still activated, they've just taken down the tweet although they still talk shit. It's like a rabbit hole.

Anaya takes all the screenshots she can and stretches her thumb out before copying the links. You'll have to give them to Erik to pass to that guy he spoke with on the phone or get his number from Erik when he finishes his workout.

---

Over the next few days, you work only on your music in the home studio and in the recording studio where your team gathers. It's a lot of tedious work and a lot of trying different things, but it also feels good to be doing what you love. Erik is Erik.. consistently busy and everywhere and that's fine because you know you'll see him when Corey comes. Anaya has been enjoying the house, lounging and playing with Anthony while Courtney the new sitter has been stepping in mightily to give her breaks.

The day finally comes when your phone lights up with a message from Corey to say he's on the ground in LAX and taking a car. That means he'll get to your place in an hour. You check the time and call Anaya who's out back with Anthony playing in a plastic pool Courtney brought over to let Anthony splash in. You let her know she has an hour to prepare herself for whatever's about to happen. She just says okay. Then you call Erik. Corey gave him the heads up a long time ago it seems.. so he's already on his way home. Turning back to the computer before you, you put your Drop headphones back on and continue to edit your vocals for the track six, deciding it's missing something. Angling the Shure mic on the table, you speak a sentence and fade it into the next recorded verse.

You almost jump out of your skin when Erik drops his hands on your shoulders, laughing at your reaction.

"When you start rapping?"

Your heart thuds as you remove your headphones and check the time. Fourty minutes seems like ten when you're working.

"That's my greeting? Let's do this again. I'll walk out and come back. This time put a little more love in your reception."

You watch amused as he walks back out looking back at you repeatedly. He peaks his head in before sauntering into the room and approaching you. You stand and meet him half way hugging him before smoothing down his beard gently.

"Now that's better. Thank you," he mumbles bumping your nose with his and walking to the screen where you've been working on your project. "Can I hear what you have?"

"Of course." You want him to hear everything you have so far but you have to show him when you both have the time. For now, you just play track six watching his face closely for any change in expression as he shakes his head gently to the rhythm. "What do you think?"

"It's not finished, but it's good.." He's really focusing on the individual sounds you can tell. "I like where it's going, but... Yeah, you'll figure it out," he nods cutting his commentary short. He's not feeling it, but he's not one to harp on negative things regarding you or at all really. He sees that you understand the song kinda sucks right now. You nod in response deciding that the song is nowhere near being complete as he said and suddenly you hear where parts could be smoother and words could be omitted. It also comes to mind to change the entire arrangement. "I think I got it," you smile.

"I know you do," he confirms, "You always figure it out."

Leaning your head onto his chest, you hug him again and he rubs your back. So you decide to go a step further and slip your hand under his white graphic button down. There's a black and white image of a big fearsome cat printed near the neck. You begin unbuttoning the shiny magenta buttons from the bottom. He did make the shirt look damn good. You peel it off of him and toss it over your chair, working on his slim black Louis belt then his black Levi's. Close the door, you remind yourself before scooting off to lock it.

Your cut off hoodie comes off in a lithe motion followed by your shorts and panties in another quick push. When you reach him, you each have the same idea simultaneously yanking each other roughly, clashing bodies. He's got you by the waist and the low bun and your nails sink deeply into the keloids of his biceps as you sink to the floor intertwined, his body under yours. Your head swings to the side and your body envelops his, covering him and like a second skin while you slide back and forth.

"Grab my dick.. Put me inside." He holds your hips in place while you reach under and grab his length, sliding the tip along your lower lips and slipping it into your cave. "Don't tease my shit, ride."

You sit with the dick inside, shallow, and make slow even rotations taking his hands from your hips and pinning them near his head. You tend to do this slowly and watch his patience deteriorate bit by bit. He doesn't speak again, but you watch his eyes fixed unblinking on yours as you continue your slow wind, smug.

You keep winding and then pause, realizing it's not giving you the feeling you want and are used to. He's not reacting the way you expected either. You wanted him to get frustrated and take that passion out on you but..

"That's it? Or did you wanna dry hump me too?"

"You're annoying."

"Nah, I just wondered how long you'd do that knowing it wasn't hitting shit for you or me. Did you have fun?"

Planting your hands on his chest you push from your knees to the balls of your feet and bounce up and down taking him deep the way he likes it. It's mildly painful, but also very pleasurable. This is the position that changes his tune. If he's mad, you can always hit this position in the bedroom and soon he's back to singing your praises. A little clit stimulation and you'd be closer to coming too. Reading your mind, his fingers swipe his tongue and then reach to rub your small nerve bundle in the way you love.

"Bounce it, gimme all that."

You go as long as you can, taking the pounding in stride no matter what.. until your knees give from the fatigue and your body gets weak from the pressure of your building orgasm. You decide to ride, rocking against him from on your knees. You're close.

"Faster," he whispers, a hard quick slap to your ass. Oh shit.. You go faster until your body gives you that jolt like you're about to cum. "Wait what you doing," he panics suddenly.

"Reverse cowgirl." Giving yourself a quick and slick break, you have to pause to turn around, but you manage to keep the dick in and start back riding building your speed. Reaching down, you grab his balls gently to force him closer to orgasm. He moans a little when you play with them and you continue until he grips your legs.

"You tryna make me nut first."

"What was your first clue," you smirk giving his sack a mild tug forcing him to cuss sharply. He likes this.. and so do you. You want him to cum and after two more well timed pulls, the white creamy fluid shoots inside you.

---

"I missed this," he pants, his minty breath on your ear as you claw his back and bite your lip, your knees high on either side of his large body.

"I'm coming," you breathe letting the electric current cause your body to shake and jolt. When you finally calm down some, he pulls out and you pant quietly while he lays beside you. A glass of water at this point would be great. Swallowing, you sigh big. "It's a shame Corey had to come to bring you back home to me," you pout. His kryptonite. He kisses his teeth.

"You know I got a lot I be doing," he whispers but you're not truly upset with him and he knows that. You know better than to fault him for his career and interests. He never did that to you.

"I forgive you. You're here now," you smile seeing the warmth in his almost black eyes.

"I ASKED YOU A SIMPLE QUESTION," Corey's voice yells so loudly that it carries to where you are. You check the time realizing you'd done forgot all about him. Shit, shit shit. Scurrying, you pull on all your clothes piece by piece and Erik stands leisurely putting his clothes back on but leaves the shirt unbuttoned and his sneakers off and on the floor.

Following the shouting, you walk out into the hall and see Corey outside of the guest room facing the doorway. Anaya's calm angry voice is loud now too.

"And I don't have to answer the way you want me to. I answer the question how I answer it and you take what I say as what I mean. I mean exactly what I said," she asserts loudly. You get close enough to lay eyes on them both and you notice baby Anthony on the bed sleep. How he could sleep through all the yelling was beyond you. Must be used to it.

"...I'm a ask you one mo' damn time," Cory points walking into the room straight up to Anaya with two fingers, almost pushed into her face. She doesn't budge knowing he knows better than to put them any closer. He's not that reckless afterall.

"What's the question," you yell cutting in with a hand between the angry couple. Anaya's eyes go straight to you, her hand flying up in exasperation.

"He keeps asking me if I'm FUCKING anyone at WORK.. I don't know how many fucking ways to say no. Do I need to sing it in a song because words don't penetrate."

Gaping, you flatten your hand in the air and lower it signaling her to come down a notch. Few times have you ever seen her this angry. Her lips purse and her eyes shift briefly before her head tilts and her foot swings on its heel. She's trying.

"Corey. Back the hell up," you say slowly pushing your hand forward to gesture he should step back. He takes two quick dramatic steps back, shrugs, and crosses his arms. "Show me the picture," you prompt moving closer to him and watching his phone screen when he takes it out. It looks like a woman who looks like Anaya and it does look like she's on her knees and her head is obstructed by a mans ass and groin area though his pants are up.... it doesn't look good. His fly could be down... He's got one hand in front of him because on camera you can't see it. It looks like he could be palming her head. "Um.. wait. Neither of y'all say a word to each other. I need to examine this."

How can you tell Corey that the photo is a lie when you'd think the same thing as him seeing the photo with no context. Anaya said she was picking stuff up from the floor, but the photo is cropped so there's no proof. But there's also no concrete, hardcore evidence that Anaya is lying.

"She wouldn't do something like this especially in public," you say aloud looking at every detail you can and zooming on the photo.

"No offense, Y/N, you like a sister to me for real, but no one figured you for sex in public with niggas you barely know but look how that turned out. How am I supposed to be sure? I'm just supposed to accept that she just might be cheating on my ass and that's supposed to be okay? I gave everything to this fuckin relationship I can't st- Man, shit." He made it halfway to the door before Erik blocked it.

"For starters, fuck you," you glare. "Second, look at you right now acting like a bitch. You always forcing me to do some shit saying I need to boss up? Yeah, it's your turn to face your relationship head on. Put your big boy pants on. Stop being a BITCH."

"You call me a bitch one more time," he points.

"And you'll do what," you challenge stepping closer.

"Pluck you in that bigass sixhead. Sit ya ass down."

"I wish you would! You lucky Anaya loves you, stupid ass. But you need to trust her! Anyone who gets accused constantly like that and not believed would be mad. You're basically calling her a hoe. How long is she supposed to hear that she's a hoe from you?"

"Maybe don't do hoe-ish shit," Corey snarks narrowing his eyes with sarcasm. You can feel Anaya's rage behind you building. It's a concoction of anger, frustration, pain, and annoyance. This is cutting her deeply to her core.

"Corey... Do you honestly think that lowly of her?" Your own heart is shredding at this point and heavy.

"I don't think lowly of her, I still love her... I still love you and shit," he says to her now, "But goddamn I don't know what to do. I always felt like some nigga would come along and try to take my place.. I tried to do everything so you wouldn't feel a need to go to no other nigga for nothing and then I hear that you suckin dick in the office and y'all messing around. Bitch sends a damn PICTURE. What would you do with that? You'd leave my ass. Lie and say you wouldn't. Lie and say you wouldn't!"

"Get out my face," Anaya sighs.

A loud smash steals the attention of the room and it wakes the baby who looks confused and a little scared before going back to sleep. There is Erik with a stack of plates. You hadn't noticed he'd left. One plate is shattered on the floor from hitting the wall.

"We taking this downstairs." Erik's eyes narrow and he turns leaving the room. You see Anaya look to Anthony who's sleep again and the three of you head downstairs after Erik finding him in the middle of the living room. He hands a plate to Corey. "Smash it," he commands. Corey eyes him, feeling the weight of the plate in his hand and staring at the wall before throwing the plate.

"FUCK," he yells throwing his arms and stretching them.

"Feels good," Erik nods handing Anaya a plate. He doesn't have to tell her. She smashes it and then another one, her body dropping the tension, arms going slack and hanging. It's so sudden when she starts sobbing, you're shocked but you rush in to hold her as she let's loose on your shoulder, shaking.

"Regardless of what the pictures show... This the mother of your child," Erik speaks, his eyes on Corey whose arms are over his head like he's trying to stay standing. "This is the one who takes care of your home, feeds your child. This is the one you decided to marry. Till death do you part. Y'all ain't dead," he shrugs. "Neither are your feelings for each other apparently."

You can't see Corey's face but you can hear him sniffling and see his hand moving constantly to wipe at his face and he groans like he's frustrated at himself for crying.

"Y'all gonna get over this. It won't be easy. But you both need to." He's looking at Anaya now and he touches her shoulder gently not taking her from your embrace. His voice comes out lowly and it's so warm and kind it's comforting you as well and you're not even the target. "Now you know this damp ass nigga be crying himself to sleep to Jodeci. You got the type of nigga to sing Frank Ocean to a picture of you, thinking bout you.. You really finna let that go? ....When you know he luh you that much?"

Her sobs have slowed and her breathing has begun to even. He turns back to Corey.

"Y'all are meant to be together.. People gonna test to see if they can get between y'all.. Don't let em," he nearly whispers. "I stay getting DMs saying my girl been with hella other niggas in the industry."

"Hold up, what DMs," you murmur looking over. Not to ruin the moment. But what DMs??

"--other niggas who ain't got a pot to piss in," he adds.

"Who is sending these DMs," you ask a bit louder.

"I even seen shit photoshopped to look damn realistic... but I trust her. She ain't give me a reason not to. Even if she did, I'm not giving her up that easy. NOOO," he frowns. "That's mine. She stuck with my ass."

"Ok but can we go back to who is working so diligently to craft such ridiculous lies? Can we get that info?"

"Y/N.... Shut up. This ain't about you. See that?" He turns back to Corey. "How long it take y'all to be comfortable and real with each other like that? Love when you reach a certain point.. it ain't always worth starting all the way the fuck over. Some relationships ain't meant to be, true. But it took Y/N to come along and teach me that there will be someone in your life worth fighting and dying for and nigga.. you got two. Don't fuck this up. This small shit. Look at this girl, how in love she is witcha ugly ass.. You see that shit?"

A moment passes and Corey approaches you and Anaya slowly, locking eyes with you and requesting permission to Anaya which you grant. Carefully you pull back and let Corey take your place holding her. She starts to cry again and this time he's rubbing comforting circles on her back and rocking her gently. Erik tilts his head giving you the sign to go with him upstairs leaving them alone and the two of you silently make your exit.

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[punkscowardschampions]

Fraze & Ava

Fraze: Come home now Ava: I'm at Kylie's, we just ordered food Fraze: You didn't hear me say please 'cause I ain't Fraze: It's not a request Ava: Why do I need to, let's start there Fraze: You know why Ava: So I'm not allowed to go out now? Ava: We can talk later, when you've calmed down Fraze: I've cancelled two meetings, we can talk now Ava: I didn't ask you to do that Ava: God's sake Fraze: You want my attention, you've got it, like Ava: Get your own lines, yeah Ava: I don't want your attention, sorry to say Fraze: I've got a sister, I know what shit boyfriends are for, yeah Ava: Seriously? Ava: 🙄 Fraze: I also get what lads your own age are like, but you've got a bit far, don't you reckon? Fraze: *gone Ava: You don't get it at all if you think it's anything to do with anyone but me and him Fraze: Nah, what I don't get is why him Ava: Why anyone? Ava: I like him, it's as simple as that Fraze: Give me one thing you've got in common that ain't your postcode Fraze: He's at a different stage in his life, Ava, it's as simple as that Ava: Well we lack common familial DNA, how's that Ava: That's up for us to decide, not you Fraze: You really don't wanna start taking the piss right now Ava: It's literally not your business, you've never shown any interest in anyone else I've dated Ava: so I'm not going to sit here and justify anything to you now Fraze: Date someone your own age without any kids or a wife and we can go back to that Ava: And miss out on all this great attention? Ava: You're alright Fraze: You ain't half as funny as you reckon, and neither is this Ava: That's alright then 'cos I'm not joking about it Fraze: You are if you think I'm gonna pat you on the head for this, it ain't happening Fraze: You've got an important year of school to get on with, uni after that Ava: Can you please get a grip Ava: We don't all do things for head pats Ava: and? Fraze: Don't talk to me like that Ava: Then try talking to me like an adult Fraze: Try acting like one Ava: By doing what you want? Ava: Sure Fraze: By not storming out the second you don't get what you want, for a start Ava: You can't talk Fraze: I'm the one who started this conversation, if you ain't ready to have it, you ain't ready to do it Fraze: Throwing bullshit out like 'it ain't my buisiness' or 'you like him' as though any of it is that fucking simple Ava: What conversation? Ava: You've shouted all of this before I left Ava: but I'm pouting 'cos I'm not getting what I want, alright dad Fraze: You didn't listen then either Fraze: You want me to be sorry that it needs to be said, I ain't Fraze: You want me to be in the wrong for giving a shit about what you're doing, again, I ain't Ava: You know what they call repeating the same process and expecting a different outcome Ava: I'm not going to change my mind or change what I'm doing Ava: that's all there is to it, that's not up for debate because it's my decision, not yours, or a communal one Fraze: Neither am I, he's too old for you and he's got too much baggage Ava: So what? Fraze: So no good's gonna come of it Ava: You reckon Ava: but it already has Fraze: The honeymoon period's fucking boss, yeah? Fraze: Then what? Ava: More like it's nice when there's someone to come see you in hospital Fraze: Make up your mind, this is a dig at me or it ain't Ava: He's been there Fraze: I'm here Fraze: Talk to me Ava: I have Ava: you don't like what I'm saying that's your problem Fraze: Put yourself in my position Fraze: What's to like? Ava: You don't know him Ava: you give people a chance, that's how it works Fraze: It ain't about him, it's about you Fraze: I thought you had your head screwed on, that you knew what you were doing and could be trusted to get on with it Ava: I do Ava: I've not done anything wrong Ava: or changed what I've been doing Fraze: Bullshit, he's a married man Ava: And, you're really concerned about the sanctity of marriage now? Ava: It doesn't matter Fraze: I'm concerned if you're naive enough to fall for whatever sob story he's telling you Ava: Yeah, that's why I like him Ava: what the fuck is wrong with you all Ava: why is that who you think I am Fraze: You go through 'em, and there ain't nothing wrong in that, but he ain't some teenage boy Ava: Wow Fraze: Ask yourself what he sees in you, he's a grown man with responsibilities Ava: And I'm not a kid Fraze: Exactly, so grow up Fraze: He's using you 'cause his life is shit and you're gonna get hurt Ava: You grow up Ava: I can handle getting hurt Ava: I'm not going to not live my life in fear of Fraze: You can't save him, Ava Fraze: Don't fuck with your own future Ava: I'm not trying to, Jesus! Fraze: Nah, you're just having fun Fraze: And maybe it is fun now Fraze: See how fun you reckon it is when it ain't a secret any more Ava: It already isn't Fraze: Then stop Ava: I meant not a secret and you know it Fraze: Yeah right Ava: We're done here Fraze: You don't tell me when we're done Ava: Just did Ava: I'm staying here tonight Fraze: No, you ain't Ava: Yes I am Fraze: Come home or I'll bring you home Fraze: You don't wanna test me Ava: Yeah, you even remember where she lives? Ava: Doubt it Fraze: Try me Ava: I don't need to be there right now Fraze: If I tell you that you need to, you need to Fraze: End of Ava: No Fraze: If I get in this car, you're the only one who'll regret it Ava: I don't care Ava: make a scene Fraze: Fine Ava: You can't force me to go anywhere Fraze: We'll see, like Ava: Have fun Fraze: This ain't fun for me Ava: You think I'm going to apologize for anything now? Ava: No Fraze: I don't care Fraze: It ain't an apology I want Ava: You aren't getting what you want Fraze: No shit Ava: Then leave me alone Fraze: Look where that's got us Ava: This is not about you Fraze: Jesus Fraze: It's about you, the mistake you're making with this lad Ava: I can make mistakes if I want Ava: you can't stop me Fraze: That don't mean I'm gonna sit back and watch with my mouth shut Ava: Fine, you can waste your breath Fraze: It's the least of what I'm willing to do for you, you know that Fraze: I ain't never gonna stop trying, ever, with anything Ava: You can't expect me to be grateful about that when you're being totally unreasonable and insulting Fraze: You're my life, whatever I've gotta do to stop you from fucking up yours, I'm gonna do it Ava: I'm not fucking up my life Ava: nothing has changed Fraze: Not yet Fraze: How long before he's getting in the way of shit you wanna do with your mates, with uni? Fraze: He's not 17, he already has been Ava: He's not like that, at all Ava: and why do you suddenly think I'd let that happen Ava: if you give a shit about me, you should know who the fuck I am Fraze: People can hold you back without meaning to, I did it to your ma, I never wanted to drag her down, did I? Ava: Like mum would have let you if that's not what she wanted Fraze: She's better than me, she always has been Ava: No she's not Ava: and like your life is so shit, yeah Ava: what kind of cautionary tale do you think you can offer that even comes close to James' actual situation? Fraze: Our life is what we made it, so's yours gonna be Fraze: What do you want? Ava: I'm aware Ava: and I'm well aware of what I want too Fraze: What about him, what does he want? Ava: He literally has a job and just got his degree Ava: you all have no right to be so judgmental Fraze: It's concern Ava: 'cos you really vetted Rio out Ava: or any of the random coked-out skeletons Nancy has dated Ava: never mind the fact your own son had a kid not long after James had his, never mind you had Buster and Nancy not long after 16 either Fraze: You ain't your brother or your sister and I ain't trying to make the same mistakes Fraze: Or let you repeat mine Ava: Get over it Ava: You don't own the world's problems Ava: and you aren't the only decent people to have ever made them Fraze: Fuck's sake, Ava Fraze: He could be a saint and I wouldn't reckon he was good enough for you Ava: That's your issue, not his Fraze: You're my little girl, what do you want me to say? Ava: For God's sake Ava: I'm not a little girl now Fraze: I know Fraze: Gutted about it, like Ava: 🙄 Ava: Well I'm very sorry Ava: you'll have to deal with that too Fraze: Yeah Ava: I'll come back when we've eat, alright Fraze: Alright Ava: Okay? Fraze: I love you Ava: Let's not get crazy Ava: I love you too Fraze: And I'm sorry I weren't there when you got hurt Ava: It was just an accident Ava: not another planned attempt for some sweet, sweet attention Fraze: Piss off, I'm trying to have a heartfelt moment here Ava: Sure, now you are Ava: lead with something nice before attacking Fraze: I ain't in no position to judge anyone, yeah, I know that, and it honestly ain't the point Fraze: He'll be a decent enough lad if you like him Ava: Then don't use it as your first line of defense, yeah Ava: 'cos he is Ava: and like I said, and you put even more harshly, you've never given any of my many and varied boyfriends or girlfriends this degree of inspection Ava: you're assuming it's more serious and dramatic but it doesn't have to be Fraze: Come on, I'm doing my best Fraze: There's a reason your ma deals with this shit Ava: Oh yeah, she did great Ava: let's not saint her over it yet, like Fraze: Don't say a bad word about her to me, we ain't doing that Ava: Yeah, yeah Fraze: We're a team, simple as Ava: Yeah, it's just hilarious that you and Buster are trying to tell me anything when you won't listen to anyone about your spouses so Fraze: When you're in love and a lost cause, we'll all laugh it up Fraze: Until then, I'm gonna keep on at you Ava: Charming Fraze: I want better for you than anything I've ever done Ava: You're so dramatic Fraze: With good reason, life ain't been easy Ava: Okay, write your memoirs Fraze: I ain't got time for that, kid Ava: What a coincidence 😏 Fraze: Eat your food and get home Ava: Oh now you don't want me to hang out with my friends Fraze: Not her, she's well dramatic Ava: 😂 Fraze: I need a drink and your ma definitely does, so don't make me come looking for you Ava: Oh yeah, I really owe you one Ava: pfft Fraze: You can have one when you show your face, how's that? Ava: Bribery with alcohol? Ava: 10/10 parenting Fraze: Sounds about right Ava: 👌