#obligatory stress grumble

[deadmomjokes]

In case anyone was wondering where I’ve been lately...

MIL came into town for 10 days,  because...

Husband was having/has now had back surgery. He’s fine, he’s healing really well and doing great, but he’s also banned from bending, lifting, and twisting for 2 months, as well as still occasionally needing pain meds and muscle relaxers so he can’t drive himself places at the moment. Which means we went from two adults splitting chores and childcare to one adult doing all of it plus caring for the other adult as well.

Bean is having A Time with this. Her dad cannot come roll around on the floor and toss her and sit with her at bedtime, and it is UNACCEPTABLE. Also Dad was GONE for a whole day and a half, including an overnight stay at the hospital, and she wasn’t allowed to stay with him. She’s still quite upset about that. And the whole “the surgery was to fix the problems Dad has been having, but before he feels better he’s going to feel worse because of the surgery (that was supposed to make him feel better)” is reeeeeeally hard to understand. It’s hard for Dad to stomach as an adult, poor 3-year-old is confused, angry, and losing her mind just a little bit. Because, in addition to that (and the fact that Grandma was here and now she’s gone and poor thing misses her Grandma)...

Bean is still dealing with gastric issues. Short version: lifelong recurrent symptoms of acid reflux and problems gaining weight (including weight loss, which is a major yikes) when they’re acting up have gotten her sent to a specialist, who believes she has something called eosinophilic esophagitis. Basically it’s when specialized allergen-fighting white blood cells take up residence in the esophagus and inflame it because something in the diet is triggering a kind-of-sort-of allergy, which causes sensitivity to acid backup from the stomach, which is also more frequent in response to said inflammation. It hurts and makes her body hate her is the main gist of it, and the only way to know for sure is an endoscopy and biopsy of esophagus, stomach, and small intestine. But in order for the results to be accurate, she has to be off the meds that have been controlling it. So she’s currently Not Loving Life a lot of the time, and is generally quite cranky.

Plus she got regular sick again. We’re all crossing fingers Dad doesn’t catch it, because coughing while trying to heal poor traumatized muscles in your back is difficult at best.

I’m about to have a minor revision of the nasal surgery I had last year, which really isn’t that big a deal this time because there’s basically no recovery time, but it takes time out of an already packed schedule.

AND on top of all that, I have a conference in two weeks where I’ll be on 3 panels, doing a presentation, and pitching a manuscript to an agent from an agency I really want to work with. Which is awesome! This is, like, life-changing stuff that’s gonna set me on the path to achieving both goals and dreams. It’s gonna be awesome! It’s just a lot. While a lot is already happening.

So I’m gonna be MIA for the foreseeable future while I try to hold down the fort, keep my child as comfy and happy as possible despite her difficult circumstances, put together a professional presentation and prep for panels, polish a manuscript, draft and polish query letters, design and print business cards, line up child care for 3 days (for a child who is, understandably, difficult atm), get husband to and from appointments while also getting to and from my own appointments and getting Bean & Friend to and from preschool daily, and hopefully not explode, all at the same time.

The good news is, in honor of the fact that I’m about to go do some majorly career-launching, future-defining stuff in the next little while, I’m gonna get fancy hair colors for the first time and a few new outfits so I look all shiny and put-together when I have to stand up in front of people and pretend I know what I’m talking about (despite the fact that I’m already running on OJ and caffeine at 2 weeks out and definitely look like it).

#life #obligatory stress grumble #hiatus #love y'all see you on the flip side #also if you're going to LTUE come see meeeee

[satoruxx]

pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.2k words summary: boyfriend!toji again, fluff, soft!toji, grumpy x sunshine, that obligatory sick fic, bickering, affectionate scolding, pet names, this is very self-indulgent !! rheya's note: had this written for so long and never posted it oops !! but yeah resident grump worrying over his fav what's new?

toji knows something is off as soon as he steps into his apartment. he comes to the conclusion almost immediately, because he isn’t greeted like he normally is when he comes home.

normally, he’ll push the door open and you’ll trip over yourself as you stand from the couch, a giddy smile on your face as you jump into his arms. and being the asshole that he is, toji never hesitates to grumble about it, clicking his tongue as he says things along the lines of “dammit kid one day i won’t catch you” or “jeez baby let me get in the house” or something similar. but despite all that his hands will still be attached to you, rubbing your back as he smothers an amused chuckle against your hair.

but not today. today he’s greeted by quiet and emptiness—a clear lack of you. he had opened the door ready to catch you in his arms, but all he can do is raise a brow at the silence. as much as he normally complains about it, this absence makes his gut churn. he pushes all that aside, more concerned than anything as he drops his jacket onto the couch and heads for the bedroom.

toji is nothing if not observant, paranoid as his eyes dart from corner to corner of the small apartment. it’s ingrained into him—this fear that his past will come back to haunt him and take you away in the most brutal way imaginable. but he tries to ignore that, continuing to head down the hall until he pushes the bedroom door open.

his shoulders drop in relief, seeing you laying on your stomach, face buried in the pillows, and he lets out a sigh. he sees you shift a little, signaling that you’re awake, so he takes a few steps forward.

toji climbs onto the bed and lays down next to you, dropping a heavy arm over your back. “what’s wrong?”

“don’t feel good,” you answer back. toji’s brows furrow, and he manages to push his free palm against your forehead. heat pulses against his skin, and his frown deepens.

“the fuck did you do to yourself?” he asks, not unkindly but still stern—you can only glare at him hazily.

“it’s not my fault!”

“uh huh,” toji rolls his eyes, threading his fingers through your sweaty hair and pushing it back from your forehead. “so me telling you to put some layers on when you go out in the cold has nothing to do with this?”

you huff, face heating under his pointed stare, and all you can do is shove his hand away, before pathetically burying your face into the sheets again. “shut up.”

“don’t be a brat.” toji lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head indulgently. “it’s your fault for not listening to me.”

“if you’re just gonna lecture me, go away,” you complain, cheek pressed into the pillow. toji snorts, though his hand rubs what you assume to be soothing circles on your back.

“who’s gonna make sure your dumbass doesn’t get into more trouble?”

another indignant huff, and toji only chuckles. “alright c’mon kid. let’s get you in better shape, yeah?�� he grunts, looping his arm around your waist and tugging you up. you immediately protest, whining out a plethora of curses attached to his name, and he rolls his eyes. “okay, alright shut up.”

he maneuvers your body into sitting position, leaning you up against the pillows and pulling the blankets up with furrowed brows—meticulous in a way that he is only with very few things.

“you eat anything today?” he asks, still fussing over the blankets, and you gulp quietly. one look and toji’s frown grows deeper. “kid.” the word comes out stressed, like a scolding, and you wince.

“i didn’t feel like it,” you groan, trying not to wilt under his pointed glare.

“don’t care,” he huffs. “your body needs energy, stupid.”

“rude,” you mutter, crossing your arms and toji rolls his eyes.

“whine all you want—“ he stands up, rolling his neck until he hears a satisfying crack. “—still gonna make you eat something. soup okay?”

you don’t want to admit how tempting it sounds, so with an unrelenting amount of stubbornness you glare at him. “fine.”

his lips quirk upward into a smug little grin, and you try to refrain from throwing something at him. he pats your leg. “alright.”

he heads into the kitchen, leaving you to your thoughts. you hear the occasional sounds of cooking and utensils and before long, the comforting smell of soup wafts through the apartment. you try not to show toji how your mouth is watering when he walks back in, a bowl in his palm.

“here,” he grunts, propping a knee onto the bed that dips under his weight. “eat up, doll.”

you sigh, already hating the feeling of the cool sheets when you move even slightly to reach for it.

“you gonna make me spoon feed you?” toji’s brow quirks—smug, and obviously amused.

“i can do it myself thank you—” you try to take the bowl from him with a glare but he raises it out of your reach and clicks his tongue.

“will y’just let me do this one thing for you, jeez,” he complains, glaring down his nose at you.

you cross your arms with a huff, tone going slightly apologetic. “i feel bad—”

“why the fuck do you feel bad?” he asks sharply, eyes narrowed and confused and caught off guard like you’ve said the most out of pocket thing.

“because—” you stress, throwing your hands up miserably. “you were out on these crazy missions—probably tired as hell. and instead of relaxing you have to come home and take care of me because i was too stupid to look after myself.”

toji groans, putting the bowl on the bedside table before sitting on the bed completely. “kid,” he says emphatically, taking your face in his palms firmly. “how many times do i need to tell you this? i don’t mind lookin’ out for you.”

“yeah but—”

“no shut up,” he snaps, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. “you always worry about bothering me or inconveniencing me or some other crap like that. i’m telling you—don’t.”

his thumbs gently press into the apples of your cheeks, and your lips part under his pointed gaze.

“i like doin’ shit for you, okay? ‘n takin’ care of you when you’re sick? that’s nothing.” his lips tug into a lopsided smirk. “who else is gonna look out for you anyway?”

you purse your lips, throat going tight because toji rarely talks like this—so honestly open. and though you’re sure that many people out there would say he’s harsh and mean and not good for you, it’s things like this that prove how wrong they are.

“what’s wrong? did i break your brain?” toji asks, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your head, and you huff out a laugh, pushing his arm away.

“shut up,” you mutter, falling into his chest heavily. he chuckles, low and throaty as he pats your back.

“you up for eating now?” you can feel him reaching for the bowl, and you smile against him, pressing your face further into his warmth because toji will always be nothing but safe for you.

“in a minute,” you answer, looping your arms around his waist. he sighs, shaking his head but he doesn’t say anything else.

but you think you can feel him smile against your hair as he drops a chaste kiss to your forehead—you don’t tell him that though.

#jjk x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x reader #zenin toji x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #fushiguro toji x reader #toji headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fluff #toji fluff #toji fushiguro #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #toji drabbles #jjk headcanons

[fanofurfics]

V-Day 💗

A Bucky Barnes Fic

Pairing: Bucky and FemReader

Content warnings: Pure self-indulgent fluff, alcohol. Minimal use of Y/N.

Word Count: 1664

A/N: So I did it. I decided to try my hand at my first Fanfic and decided I’d write and share it today for Valentine’s Day. This was written in the span of about an hour and minimal edits, so any and all mistakes are mine. Please be gentle with me 🫣 I also can’t stress enough this is purely self-indulgent fluff with our boy Bucky ‘cause that’s what I want today.

You had just gotten off of work and it had been a rough day. Being bombarded by the decorations, flowers, cards. Coworkers talking about where they and their date were going tonight inevitably asking what you were doing. And you were doing nothing. No date, no romantic night in, hell, no obligatory Valentine’s Day sex. When someone would “awe” or pout, you assured them it was fine - you were fine. But now without work to keep you busy, you really didn’t feel like doing nothing at home all alone. Luckily there was a bar right around the corner.

By the time you finished your first drink, you had started to rethink your decision. More and more couples filtered in, though you were sure it would be the same just about anywhere tonight. You started to really feel alone. You were doing another visual sweep of the room when you noticed a man walk through the doors. His deep set bright blue eyes stood out first. His strong brow and the scruff on his face kept you looking longer. You had always liked a man in leather. You catch yourself nearly drooling and spin back around towards the bar hoping he didn’t notice you clearly noticing him.

You go to take a drink and remember it’s empty. Just as you reach out to wave down the bartender, the man takes a seat at the bar, leaving just one chair between you, and calls out to the bartender as well just as she’s walking over.

”Sorry. Ladies first” the blue eyed lone man said.

“Thanks.” You smile. Maybe it's just because you’re feeling a little lonely tonight but that small act of chivalry makes you blush.

It isn’t long after you order your drink that another man comes to approach you with his scantily clad date in tow. “Hey, do you think you could scoot over so my girlfriend and I can sit at the bar?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes but smile and nod. “Sure.” You look to both empty seats next to you and before you can make the move yourself, the blue eyed gentleman reaches beside him and pulls out the chair next to him without taking his eye off his whisky in hand. You take it as an invitation, sliding your drink towards him and scooting over.

“Thanks.” You settle in, grabbing your drink to swirl the ice. “They should’ve got here earlier if they wanted their choice of seats.” You grumble just loud enough under your breath that he hears it and snickers before he takes another drink. His reaction is enough for you to decide to make a little small talk with him. You’re sure the bartender would like it if you found someone else to talk to tonight.

“Thanks for the seat. I’m Y/N.” You hold out your hand to the man next to you and he takes it, giving you a firm but gentle shake.

”Bucky.”

”Bucky.” You smile to yourself.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just don’t think I’ve met anyone with that name before.” You hope you haven’t already pissed him off by saying something stupid.

”Ah. Well now you have.” He gives a polite smile and goes back to watching the tv behind the bar.

After a few minutes had passed, all you could think about was this guy Bucky. It had been a long time since anyone had captured your attention like this. He was tall, had dark hair, and was extremely handsome. He was quiet, and came off broody, but had been polite to you so far. Sure, you had resigned to do nothing tonight, and maybe it was the drinks but now you didn’t feel all that much like being alone. Unless maybe it was with Bucky. You figured what did you have to lose? If you didn’t hit it off you’d be right back where you are now.

You turn in your chair to face him. ”Have you looked around at everyone here tonight? Most of them have been looking at their phones all night.” He slowly turned his gaze to you first to make sure you were talking to him. You looked at him, eyebrow raised and waiting for some kind of answer. The more seconds that passed, you were sure he would say nothing and just go back to his drink. Fair enough.

He looked around him then turned back to you. “I did notice. Must be pretty crappy dates if they can’t even give each other their attention for a few hours.”

He didn’t completely dismiss you! Great! The two of you continue to make small talk and discuss how sad it is that today people are so in tune with everything around them except those immediately near them. You both start listing off other things one could be doing than wasting time and money out with someone when you’re barely going to connect with them.

You’re really enjoying the conversation and as far as you can tell, he is too. You decide to get a little more personal. “So, did your date stand you up?” He’s staring straight ahead as he takes a swig. Maybe you crossed a sensitive line.

”No” is all he says. You can’t help but think you’ve hit a nerve, but you’re enjoying his company so much you have to try and save this.

”Well that’s good. I wouldn’t want to ask out some guy who was feeling vulnerable.”

Bucky choked a bit on his whisky, then looked at you and cocked his head.

You decided to ask before you lost your nerve.

“How would you feel about being Valentines for the evening? Maybe go play some pool or something?”

Bucky looked around the bar but before he could say anything you added. “There’s a place down the street. It's another bar. They serve whisky.” A small smile creeps up Bucky’s lips. He downs his drink and stands to help you out of your seat. “Shall we then?”

The second bar was crowded as well, but luckily you two were able to secure a pool table and had played game after game. In between rounds, you would put music on the jukebox hoping to hear your song between the long list others had played.

Conversation was easy between you too. He obviously wasn’t the most talkative of people but he was funny, sarcastic. And he was also incredibly sweet. The entire time he had gotten you your drinks and even insisted on paying for them. He’d hold your pool stick for you when you went to the bathroom. There was even a moment when he was taking his shot that he noticed some guy coming on to you and not getting the hint that you weren't interested. Bucky walked right up and put himself between you and the inebriated man. “We got a problem?” Bucky asked. The way this man could stare daggers at people was terrifying. And, a little exciting if you were being honest.

The drunken fool decided to push him in the chest and Bucky didn’t even budge. This infuriated the guy who then took a swing at Bucky, who caught his fist in his left hand and with the slightest squeeze, the man was on his knees. “Okay! Okay! Okay! Ow ow ow!” The drunken fool stumbled out of the bar with his tail between his legs after that.

The hours flew and before you knew it, it was last call and you two were the only ones left in the bar. You realized you had had so much fun you forgot about work in the morning. Begrudgingly you decide to call it a night. “Hey Bucky, I’ve had a really great time, but I should probably get going.” You walked over to grab your jacket off of the chair.

”Hold on.” Bucky put up a hand and then dug out a dollar from his pocket as he went to the jukebox. An old Billie Holiday song comes on and as he walks up to you, he extends his right hand. “May I have this dance?”

You can’t hide the grin that beams from your face and he smiles back. The two of you stand there in the middle of the empty bar and begin to sway back and forth in each other's arms. One hand in yours, the other on the small of your back, you feel yourself begin to melt for this man. He pulls you just the slightest bit closer and rests his face against yours. You had been on dates and had flings recently, but nothing with them had ever felt this intimate. This correct. Your heart breaks just a little as the song ends. You wish you could stay in this moment forever. You’re barely able to tear yourself apart from him, but do. Bucky grabs your coat and helps slip it over your shoulders.

“May I walk you home?” Bucky asks as he holds open the exit door.

”Please.” You don’t see it, but he is grinning now too.

The four block walk goes by too quickly and soon you’re on the steps leading up to your apartment building. You’re about to say something but Bucky beats you to it. “Thanks for the great time, doll. This was the best Valentine’s Day I’ve had in a long, long time.”

“Me too” you admit. “And Bucky,… You were the perfect gentleman.”

He scoffs at your remark. Bucky gently grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips giving you a tender kiss. “Goodnight.” Before he can let go, you turn your hand to grab his. “Wait.” You’re nervous, but would beat yourself up if you didn’t take the chance. You hadn’t hit it off like this with someone so quickly. “Would you…would you like to come in?”

Bucky gives the smallest smile and thinks about it. He shakes his head. “Next time, doll.” He kissed your hand once more. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Closing the door behind you, you couldn’t help but do a giddy dance before making your way to your apartment and climbing into your bed to dream, no doubt, about your darling Bucky.

#its my first fanfic and first thing I’ve posted public for others to read #please be gentle #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes mcu #Valentine’s Day fanfic #fluff #valentines day

[lyrabythelake]

Hi Lyra!! If you're still taking requests, how about Four meeting Gondo or Scrapper?

Thanks for sending in the request Zee! Here's Four and Sky running into Scrapper in Sky's era

“Come on guys, very funny, but you can stop now.”

Sky rubbed the sleep from his eyes, yawned long and wide and then stared at the scene coming into focus in front of him. Since he had begun travelling with the other heroes, there hadn’t been much in the way of peaceful awakenings, but Four waving a piece of scrap metal in everyone’s faces was up there with the weirder of them. 

“Just admit it, Four,” Legend replied wearily, “you like to sleep with scrap metal. It’s honestly not much of a shock to me.”

“You don’t need to be ashamed of it,” said Twilight, a glint of humour in his eyes. “Whatever brings you comfort. We all have different ways of coping with the stress of being a hero.”

“I do not sleep with metal in my bed!”

“Hate to point out the obvious…” Warriors pointed a finger at the piece of metal in Four’s hand with raised eyebrows. 

“I didn’t go to sleep with it! I woke up and it was just… there.”

Wind giggled into his palm.

“Come on,” said Four. “Own up, who did it?”

Sky groaned and flopped back into his bedroll. It was way too early to be dealing with this.

----

As distantly humorous as Sky found the Four situation–the situation being Four’s new tendency to find bits of old tech and scrap metal in numerous strange places–he was beginning to get curious. It wasn’t any of their group; he had asked them all quietly who it was that had been leaving bits of metal wherever Four went, but they had all shaken their heads blankly. He was beginning to seriously consider the possibility that Four had somehow developed some kind of magnetism. 

“Have you gotten too close to any wizzrobes recently?” he asked as casually as he could after Four discarded what looked like a piece of old pipe he had found in his bag with an annoyed huff. The two of them had split up from the team to forage ingredients for dinner.

“What?” 

“Like, I don’t know, have you gotten in the way of a curse or something?”

Four looked at him like he was mad, and Sky shrugged sheepishly.

“It’s the only thing I could think of that would explain it. You know, the whole scrap metal thing.”

Four rolled his eyes.

“Oh come on, it’s obviously one of the others playing a prank.”

“I don’t know, I really think they’re telling the truth this time.”

“That’s because you always see the best in people! It’s admirable, really, but—"

Four stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide and focused on the path ahead of them, specifically on a small, floating robot. Sky groaned internally.

“What in Din’s name is that?” Four asked.

“That’s Scrapper,” Sky said. “He’s usually up with Gondo on Skyloft, but he must be down here on one of his collection trips….” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “Wait….” There was something strange going on here. Bits of scrap metal appearing around Four and a stupid little scrap-foraging robot loose on the surface—those two things were connected, even if he hadn’t quite worked out how yet.

“Aw,” cooed Four, “he’s cute. Can we go say hi?”

“He’s not cute,” Sky grumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”

“He’s not cute, he’s actually… kinda mean.”

Four spluttered a laugh.

“He’s a tiny, flying robot, how mean can he be?”

“You’ll see,” Sky promised him as they approached. “Hi Scrapper.”

Scrapper turned and stared at them for a few seconds before speaking.

“A reluctant, yet obligatory greeting to you, too, zzrt… It has been a long time since we last spoke, a fact which I find less than concerning, but my master has been worried.”

“How’s everyone getting on without me up there?”

“Quality of life has improved by 26.32% now that you are gone.”

“Great,” Sky deadpanned. Four cackled.

“I learned those extraordinary levels of accuracy from Mistress Fi, vrrrrrt- CHONK…” Scrapper continued. His mismatched eyes seemed to scan their surroundings. “She does not appear to be with you at this time.”

Sky couldn’t help the melancholy that filled him at the thought of Fi.

“She’s gone for now. She’ll be back one day.”

“A shame, whizzt! But your new friend is also pleasing.” He turned to Four. “At your request, I will carry out any duty programmed into my database.”

“Oh, boy,” Sky muttered.

“Huh?” Four looked at him in confusion.

“Scrapper… er, tends to have strong opinions about people. He seems to have taken a liking to you.”

Four beamed.

“I take a liking to those with sufficient levels of competence…  vrrt!”

Four snorted as Sky frowned, offended.

“I like you too, Scrapper.” He held out his fist in front of him. “…You’re supposed to bump it with your own fist.”

“Bumping fists is not in my programming. However, I can continue to retrieve scrap metal for your endeavours, whizzt!”

“Oh, that’s coo—wait… what do you mean continue to retrieve scrap metal?”

“I hope you have enjoyed my gifts to you over the past two days, zrrrrrt… they are a mere president of my services and capabilities. I am able to carry anything, regardless of weight or destination…”

“You’re the one leaving metal in my bed?!”

“I shall take your surprise as sufficient gratitude. It was no problem.”

“Why?!”

“A preliminary analysis of your temperament showed that you, hero of smallest stature, have a proficiency for welding and blacksmithing, ker-PLUNK… I am here to aid you.”

It was Sky’s turn to laugh this time.

“This is not funny!” Four hissed.

“Oh, it definitely is.”

#lyra writes #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu four #lu sky #loz scrapper

[sixtysixproblems]

obligatory newbie post + my ficlist but at least im not from twitter

What's up tumbleweeds i will no longer be a meance exclusive to ao3! This'll probably be a 90% star wars blog because unfortunately I can't choose my special interests aparently, and my brain picked the fandom where everyone dies to be my main thing. sigh.

Ao3 = Kalidescope_View. (i know kaleidoscope is terribly misspelled, shhhhh)

Names + Pronouns - He/Him, minor, could not care less what you call me. Sixes? Kaleidoscope? Kalidescope? That fucking guy over there? Whatever works.

My fic list (all clone wars for now)

"fluorescent mistakes" - an ongoing chat-fic that spiraled out of control and became my main project

Cody: Look, it's the vod who's so basic he's off the PH scale Wolffe: cody you nerd what the fuck does that even mean ~-~-~-~ Cody creates a chatroom for his batch. He really, really shouldn't have. Featuring: some blyla + codywan + vox, a lot of sibling love, even more sibling chaos, and *checks notes* ...plot???

"mistakesverse" series - all of them are canon in fluorescent mistakes, but all function as standalones for now/not needed to read fluorescent.

>"fairness" - ponds & rex h/c oneshot, kamino era but not too heavy angst wise >"get it on flimsi" - coruscant guard chatfic oneshot >"godzillo v crypto bros" - the zillo beast arc but make it a crack chat fic

"i accidentally made a modern au" series - a bunch of stand-alone oneshots set in the same highschool au universe.

>"pastel" - the fetts have an easter egg hunt in the background while wolffe is being a little shit and trying to set up codywan >"i want you (for worse or for better)" - Vox miscomunication except it's only the part where it gets resolved + outside your door in the pouring rain trope, ft peanut butter m&ms >"petals" - codywan flower gifting, the teasing that comes with siblings, wolffe is a little shit again >"(SEVERE THUNDERSTORM WATCH" - a chatfic where cody nearly gets caught in a thunderstorm, set during fett family vacay + ft eggo poptarts

"id kiss you as the lights went out" - Ongoing Vox 5+1 hurtcomfort, but it's more like a 5+2

“Vos,” Fox says, forcing his grip to relax so he doesn’t wrinkle the flimsiwork he’s working on, “Are you aware you’re dripping blood on my carpet?” “Uh,” Vos looks down at the few drops of crimson now staining the ugly beige-colored floor, and quickly puts a hand over his side, “...I’d say sorry, but I mean, you must have gotten wine on it at some point, so it'll just...Blend in?”

"warmth" - self-indulgent vox hurt/comfort with a bad title.

Quinlan Vos had been hovering around Fox like a particularly annoying fly for the past two months now, for no particular reason. Well, none Fox could discern at least. Oh, not that Vos wasn’t telling him why. Vos had plenty of "reasons", he’d explain them with a smirk that Fox supposed he’d find charming-- if he had never put up with the Jedi’s shenanigans. And if he didn’t know that Vos and his excuses were full of shit.

"stitched" - no plot only vibes drunk sibling nonse (fox, cody, wolffe)

"Force, you are old," Wolffe drawled, and Fox tried to project his glare as best he could through his helmet. Cody snorted from somewhere behind them, but Fox was too drunk to tell where-- which sent off a prickle of anxiety.. "I see you do not want a present from me for life day," He grumbled, trying to banish his stress. He’d have none of his usual paranoia tonight. Wolffe put his hands up in mock surrender. "Fine. It's impressive. I wouldn't have the patience" Wolffe amended, and picked up Fox's knitting to study it with, annoyingly, what looked like at least some genuine interest.

have a nice day folks!

#quinfox #codywan #my fic #clone wars #chat fic #my stuff

[dearlawdimasimp]

A/n: OKAY FIRST THINGS FIRST- things got a little heated at the near end DONT WORRY I MARKED IT and it is not that explicit so to those peeps who are squimish with lemon you can skip ahead, i promise dearies you wont miss a thing. I blame Khonshu for this at the same time thank him for the inspiration LMAAOOO

Stupidly handsome bastard

Pairings: Khonshu x sorcerer!Reader

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION it is marked tho so you can skip it if you're uncomfy💞, grammar, language, no use of y/n, is set after the series, KHONSHU IN A SUIT, possibly ooc Khonshu, NOT BETA'D (if I missed any pls let me know!)

Word Count: 1.5k+ words

Summary: A stressful yesterday has led you to an obligatory mediation in the present as well as relaxation. In more ways than meditation as the Moon God makes up to you for his recklessness the day before.

A/n2: im obsessed w/ sorcerer!reader and idk why..help JAHSHAHHSHS

You take deep breaths with closed eyes, in and out. You relax your body, mind and spirit. Inhale….exhale…

After the events yesterday, you felt the need to meditate. All the fighting and chaos has left your energy drained down to its lowest, as you had to create an illusion for the people outside of the city that were witnessing the fight think that it was just their imagination. That the godzilla esq scene in front of the pyramid of Giza did not exist at all, while the fight was on going. 

On top of that, you were also fighting Harrow's goons and protecting the residents of Cairo. AND THEN after the fight you have to cast another spell for the residents of Cairo for them to forget whatever the hell just happened. You were so tired that you were on the verge of collapsing. If it weren't for Layla's quick instincts you would have fallen face first to the ground.

Gods, that was one hell of a night. 

Inhale…exhale….

You are currently sitting cross-legged in the middle of the yard of Kamar-taj. The fresh, open air of the summer afternoon, rustling leaves, the distant sounds of a lecturing Master to the Novice Sorcerers and the overall calm atmosphere of the place that is a very stark contrast from what transpired yesterday has left you in a serene state. 

Inhale….exhale….

A scuffle from your right makes your ears perk. You have asked to be left alone for the day and are not available to any interaction.

Someone clears their throat. A deep rumble of a god's voice slowly breaks the tranquility of your atmosphere. You did not have to open your eyes to know who it was.

"I told Layla to tell you-"

"-That you need to be alone for the day. Yes, I am aware, little one… she did tell me that.."

Obviously he did not listen. When does he ever? You grumble silently.

"I had only wanted to see how you are fairing, now that you have had the whole day to yourself…" 

He had stayed in his place, you noted, as you didn't hear his footsteps approaching you. Good. Because if he were to come any closer you wouldn't hesitate to shove his staff up his ass for being a stubborn asshole.

Although his reply made you open your eyes, the whole day? Oh.. 

Instead of seeing the beautiful multi-colored skies of sunset in the hills opposite of Kamar-taj, you're met with an artificially illuminated dark horizon of the city in the urban area while the rural hills are illuminated by the waxing gibbous.

You hum as you ask yourself, mumbling, "It's already night?" Geez that explains why your butt is hurting, you've been sitting on the yoga mat for more than 3 hours.

"Time does unknowingly pass us by when we do not think much about it." You can now hear him right behind you, you look up to him from your place in the ground. You meet his hollowed gaze as he is also looking down at you. 

The corner of your lips twitch as you roll your eyes. Uncrossing your legs, you stand and pat your legs. 

"I'm fine now, to answer your question earlier." 

"I'm not convinced."

You furrow your brows and look at him, confused by his distrust. You were about to give a snappy retort but then, you register what the god is currently wearing now that you got a good look at him.

He's wearing a suit.

And fuck does he look good wearing it.

Your flushed staring must've been very obvious as the god chuckles. You were too awestruck that you didn't notice that he had closed the distance between you two. As you only notice his towering stature over you when he cups your chin by his pointer finger and thumb, 

"Close your mouth, little one. We don't want you swallowing flies now, do we?" The smug bastard smugly comments. 

You are so close to exploding right now. Out of anger or embarrassment, you didn't know. Hell, maybe it's both. 

You could only give an unconvincing growl and a huff through your nose as you pull away from his stupidly warm body. 

"Okay f-fine. I'm not fine. I'm a li- no, I am angry at you."

You cross your arms and turn away from him. Oh heavens above, you just hope your flustered face is not obvious under the moonlight and nearby lamps. If you didn't turn your back to the god you were sure you would forget why you were angry in the first place…

Damn it you are now starting to forget. Khonshu in the fucking white suit is already overtaking every thought you have in your mind.

"Why? if I may ask, my sorcerer.." The handsome bastard had to ask. You feel his lanky arms sneaking its way around your waist, his voice echoing in your ear as he lightly nudges your cheek with his.

Oh the sneaky, stupid, handsome bastard had known your anger had left, because if it hasn't you would've jumped away from his embrace the moment his gloved hands met your sides. 

And he knows that your weakness is his hugs from behind. Stupidly smart, handsome bastard god.

"Because…-" You held your breath, exhaled and pout, "Because you're stupid, and stubborn and reckless..and stupidly handsome." you whisper the last one, slowly leaning back to his chest- though not yet giving in! You only want to lean back, that's all. Not because his warm embrace is very welcoming and comfortable, nooo. 

"Stupidly handsome, huh?"

"Oh shush up!" You scold half-heartedly at his teasing, lightly hitting the back of his palm. He only chuckles at this, pulling you closer to his chest and rests the underside of his beak on your head.

Well, you are now at the point of no return, and finally, gave in. With a deep breath, you fully lean back to Khonshu's chest, uncrossing your arms and intertwining your fingers with his.

"I'm still mad at you." You grumble, keeping your gaze at the moonlit horizon.

"I know, dearest." He sighs, and huskily adds, "Let me make up to you." His hands start to wander down south but you quickly tug it back up.

THIS IS WHERE IT STARTS PEOPLE

"Khonshu!- We're at the Ka-" Your sentence dies on your throat as you feel him grind his clothed crotch to your behind.

"I don't hear a no, little one."

You could hear his grin, his slow grind of his clothed cock on your ass made you choke a whine.

"Not here- not in Kamar-taj." You silently whimper, your knees shaking in anticipation as he replies in his deep voice, "Very well."

And in a blink of an eye you're back at your flat in London. Your back hits your mattress as Khonshu cages you with one of his arms wrapping around your waist as he leans his weight on the other, hand above your head.

"Well someone's eager." You chuckle as you look up at the god on top of you, putting a hand on his shoulder as you fiddle with his tie.

"I'm clearly not the only one." He retorts, his head tilting to the side, "I can smell your arousal, my dear." His hands crawl to your crotch and cups your crotch. "And I can feel your wetness through your clothes, little bug."

Your breath hitched at his touch, hips shamelessly grinding down his hand, whining at the need for more friction, to which your godly lover gave you with no hesitance. 

"Khonshu!" You moan his name, your hands gripping at the fabric of his suit that started it all.

"I know, my star, I know. Patience is key." His beak carefully nudges your cheek, his own gesture close to a kiss. 

Oh this is going to be a long night, one of which you don't mind spending with the moon god.

ENDS HERE, LUV YOU'RE GOOD ^-^

Khonshu made up with you, in bed. No complains from you though, no siree.

Pure bliss and the aftermath of the activity had your brain fuzzing and body buzzing. Your lower half tingling at his 'apology'.

You snuggle close to your lover's exposed chest, humming contently as you play with his large hands while you two lay on your bed, completely bare with only your sheets covering your bodies. 

"Am I forgiven, my star?" His smirk was clearly heard in his voice. You stop playing with his digits just to hit his chest. Khonshu, however, takes your hand back to his own before you could while chuckling.

"Don't test me, moon man." 

"I won't, I won't." His chortle made you look up to him and squint, "I have no intention to, little sorcerer, I swear!" He then brings your hand up to his beak and lets it lay flat there, "I swear." If he could smile you were sure he was smiling at you. 

You lightly huff, caressing his beak and giving him a small kiss before laying your head back down to his chest. "You're lucky I love you, Khon."

"I love you too, my star."

"You're forgiven, unless you do another reckless thing then I'm taking everything back."

"Hmm, fair."

"As well as your affection privileges."

"Beloved!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

JAJHSJSJJSKSJS hope you guys enjoyed that self-indulgent mess HAHAHHAHAHAHAH i literally spent a whole day writting this..gods the grip this corpse pigeon has on me i swear😰

i am open for constructive criticsm, comment em if you want!

Anyways thank you for reading and have a good day/night guys!!💞💞

#G•writes #moon knight x reader #khonshu x reader #khonshu x sorcerer!reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #self indulgent #sorcerer!reader #fanfcition #marvel imagine #moon knight #mcu imagines #khonshu #moonknight x reader #marvel #mcu #lemon

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Mistletoe

@elliestormfound hit me with this delightful ask “hi! I have a prompt for you: what if everyone knows that Geralt and Jaskier are dating except for Geralt and Jaskier because they are idiots? What if it is around christmas and all their friends hang mistletoe everywhere to get them to kiss finally?? sorry, I got too excited :D“ and it was just the thing my brain needed to decompress today apparently? So here’s 1.7k of my stress relief? 

Warnings: k-kissing? christmas-ish? banter? swear words? a silent auction for an animal shelter? its in a barn? idk fam i think this one is pretty tame?

__________

“Geralt I can send Lambert in five minutes. You need to go home and shower.” Jaskier’s voice was exasperated over the truck speaker, having already told Geralt three times today that he couldn’t be late for his own fundraiser. 

Geralt sighed and switched his blinker, heading away from the large animal pickup call and towards his house, “Have him take Eskel. I think we’ve been called there before.”

“Oh, so you were fine going alone even though you tell everyone else not to? Great. I swear to every god, Geralt. If someone shoots you over taking their animal away I will revive you only to kill you slowly with my bare hands.”

“Jask, I’m fine-”

“Yes. I know,” Jaskier lowered his voice and Geralt could picture him waving his hands and tilting his head this way and that like he always did when he mocked him, “I’m Geralt. I’m big and scary and love animals so much I’ll throw myself into dangerous situations without thought because I’m a selfish and impulsive cock.”

“Ok-AY. I see your point. I’m on my way home.”

“Good. Wear the green shirt so you don’t blend into the backdrop.”

-

Four hours and an obligatory ‘thank you for coming, please give us money, look at all these cute animals’ speech, Geralt was finally free to have a drink and relax. Well, mostly. He still had to be professional and courteous, but Jaskier did all the schmoozing on the part of the shelter. The majority of his time at these events was spent following Jaskier around like a lost puppy. Geralt did what he needed to, told stories when asked and supplied the facts when Jaskier went a little heavy on the emotional pleas, but he took a backseat for anything that included other people. They made a great team and Geralt tried not to think about it. No point in dwelling on what you can’t have, right?

Geralt did think about how many drink tickets Lambert had been handing out as he noticed more and more couples kissing. Come to think of it, he was quite sure Melissa and Adam had divorced last year… 

He kept noticing it as Jaskier led him around the silent auction tables and nearly lost his ‘easy going host’ mask when someone shuffled up and planted a wet one on the person he was talking to. 

Jaskier rolled his eyes and pointed up at his chin, making Geralt frown and rub at his own, thinking he’d missed a spot shaving. Jaskier bit his lip in a failed attempt to hide a smile and looked where he was pointing. Geralt followed, and to his horror, most of the ceiling in the barn had little bundles of mistletoe hanging. 

There was one at every doorway, three by the food, a few over auction tables, one over every stall door, one on every support beam over the breezeway, and worst of all, one right over the table Geralt and the team were seated at. 

“Ah! Geralt, I forgot to have you sign something before you left the office.” Jaskier clapped him on the shoulder and jarred him out of his thousand yard stare as he led him away, “Excuse us.”

“The fuck is with all the mistletoe?” Geralt practically sputtered as they crunched their way across the frozen driveway, picking up the pace to get into the heated office as quick as possible. 

Jaskier shrugged, “Bert probably just wanted to up his chances of getting laid.”

Geralt set his drink down on the reception counter and plopped down in Jaskier’s chair, “Sounds like him. What did you have for me to sign?”

“Hm?” Jaskier leaned against the desk facing Geralt, eyeing his fingers drumming on the mouse pad Geralt had given him for the secret santa last year. Geralt did it every time he came into the office for more than five minutes. He’d steal Jask’s seat and tap at it, or lean over his shoulder as he was typing away and rap it with his knuckles when he left. It wasn’t extravagant by any means, it was just a picture of Geralt, Ciri, and Jaskier mimicking Roach ‘smiling’ in the background with her top lip folded back over her nostrils. But it was the closest Geralt ever came to telling Jaskier how he felt, settling instead for a shy ‘Ciri thought it was cute’ and an awkward hug. 

“You said I needed to sign something?”

Jaskier blinked a few times and refocused on Geralt, “Oh, no. You just looked like you needed a minute.” 

Geralt slumped down farther into the chair, “Thank you.”

Jaskier fiddled with the shiny buttons on his blazer, talking a little too fast to be entirely comfortable, “Oh this is completely self serving. You’re difficult to handle when you get ‘out-peopled’.”

“So you’re my handler now?” Geralt griped, a bit of sarcasm sneaking out with his words.

“Something like that,” Jaskier huffed, glancing up at Geralt through the hair falling in his eyes. 

Geralt’s breath caught in his throat and  he was suddenly more nervous than he’d been before his speech. He slapped his thighs and heaved a dramatic sigh before standing up, “We should probably get back.”

Jaskier looked up at him, a few inches lower than he usually stood while he sat against the desk. Geralt caught his eyes flickering up and his jaw clench as he tried to pretend he’d seen nothing. Following his gaze he froze.

A massive bunch of mistletoe was hung right above their heads, truly it was a miracle they’d missed it before. 

Jaskier set his drink down next to him on the desk and whispered, “There’s no one else here…”

Geralt looked down at him, tilting his head and furrowing his brows as he tried to figure out what that had anything to do with….

His heartbeat picked up as he caught on to Jaskier’s subtle suggestion, “Totally alone,” he breathed. 

His agreement hung in the air much like the mistletoe above their heads, taunting and almost permission giving, but not quite enough.

After making eye contact for far too long to be considered professional or friendly, Jaskier pushed off of the desk and for once, Geralt didn’t step back to give him space. They could rock forward onto their toes and  their noses would touch and Geralt’s heart was absolutely racing, leaving his brain somewhere in the dust. 

“You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?” Jaskier’s breath tickled at Geralt’s throat, not close enough to be warm, but it gave him goose flesh all the same. 

“Ask what?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Geralt let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, a hesitant but relieved smile spreading on his face as he nodded. Jaskier licked his lips and rested a hand on Geralt’s cheek and the other on his waist. Geralt thought he felt him shaking a bit but soon forgot all about it as he rested his own hands on Jaskier’s hips and the moment felt real. He swallowed his nerves down and leaned in just a fraction of an inch, letting Jaskier guide their lips together with the hand at his jaw. His eyes fluttered closed when he felt Jaskier’s hot breath on his lips and he was praying he wouldn’t faint before their lips even touched.

But when they finally did, it was heaven. 

Just a gentle press of skin to skin at first, careful and sweet, and the butterflies wreaking havoc on Geralt’s stomach rose to his chest. Gods, it was unreal the way such a simple kiss could undo him like this but here he was, so overwhelmed that if he didn’t do something with his hands he might cry. He slid one hand to the small of Jaskier’s back and pulled him flush to his body, pressing forward with his lips and searching for more of whatever that drug making him feel so light and warm was. Jaskier mirrored him, wrapping his arm farther around his waist and moving his other hand to the nape of his neck to pull him closer still. Geralt let his tongue dart out across Jaskier’s lips and chuckled in surprise when Jaskier countered with enthusiasm, taking over immediately. 

As he pulled away, Jaskier ran the tip of his tongue over the roof of Geralt’s mouth making him let out a shaky breath and shudder.

Geralt’s eyes snapped open and he pressed his tongue to the spot, wrinkling his nose before laughing softly, “That tickled.”

“Mhm,” Jaskier nodded and smiled, brushing his thumb over Geralt’s cheek as he searched his eyes.

“Can we do that again?” Geralt breathed, moving a hand from Jaskier’s hip to between his shoulder blades. 

Whatever he found in his inspection, Jaskier seemed satisfied, if not elated, “Hell yes.”

 Moments later, while their lips were most pleasantly locked together, Lambert and Yennefer burst through the door yelling.

“Fucking finally!” and “No! They didn’t say it! I didn’t lose! I don’t owe you shit!”

Jaskier jumped and made to step away, but Geralt kept him close, pulling him to his side but away from the door. 

Yen grinned at them and held out a palm to Lambert, “Pay up, bitch. They’re positively head over heels.” 

“What the hell guys?” Geralt snapped, more than a little on edge and embarrassed. 

Lambert grumbled as he pulled his money clip out of his slacks, “This witch slipped you a love potion and swindled me out of a nice bottle of gin.”

Yennefer preened and plucked the money out of his hand, “No such thing as magic, dear,” she cooed and tucked the money in her bra before addressing Geralt and Jaskier, “It’s almost time to call the auction and people are starting to notice you’re gone.” 

Jaskier smoothed Geralt’s hair back over his shoulder, “We can talk about it later, yeah?” His voice was soft and soothing, tempering Geralt’s usual reaction to Yen bossing him around to a mild eye roll. 

He looked down at Jaskier and kissed his forehead before grabbing his hand and heading for the door, “I’d love to.”

They talked about it over pumpkin pie at Jaskier’s place after the event. Well… talked might not be the right word…

#i am so sleep deprived but my brain said no sleep till geraskier so #do i need all the beginning exposition? prolly not #does it bring me joy thinking about Jaskier being the aggressive mother hen secretary/switchboard operator for the bois? yes. #geraskier #geraskier fic #geraskier christmas #geraskier first kiss #geraskier mistletoe #geraskier modern au #geralt runs an animal shelter #animal rescue geralt #its a vibe #thanks goob squad for the idea #it shall live rent free in my head forevermore #jaskier #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the witcher fic #the witcher christmas

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 141

Last week I posted a day early because vacation was doing vacation things to my sense of time.... This week I forgot to queue the chapter up because Monday was a work holiday, so I forgot today was Tuesday. *insert facepalm here please*

Thanks on this one go largely to @baelpenrose who rightfully pointed out that one part made very little sense to him and therefore was unlikely to make sense to a reader.  The clarification smoothed things out quite a bit, I think.  Just in case, whoever spots the area I’m talking about gets a cookie as soon as travel restrictions lift.

As always, thanks go also to @the-raven-fae, @charlylimph-blog, and @anotherusrname for completing the corners of my support system. And, a super-duper extra-special to @drinksteawithcake! I don’t know if I am allowed to tell everyone why, but you know why you get the extra-special, and I hope you are having fun!

BWAAAAAHP!   BWAAAAAHP!

“Uhhh?” I squinted in complaint as flailing arms clambered over me. One pair snagged me around my waist to drag me from bed before depositing me shakily on my feet. “What are you - ?”

BWAAAAAHP!  BWAAAAAHP!

Any trace of sleep was shoved out of my system, replaced by sizzling alertness when I realized I was hearing ship-wide alarms.  Shoving myself into the first clothing I grabbed, not even bothering with shoes, I was hot on Conor and Maverick’s heels as we raced out of our quarters and into the corridor. We paused only long enough for both men to kiss me and for “I love yous” to be exchanged before they turned and headed toward the areas indicated on their datascreens, while I hauled ass toward the Archives, ducking and twisting to avoid anyone in my path.

“Forty minutes,” Tyche told me crisply as I basically fell through the door, panting. “The Ark could be invaded and the battle over by the time you make it.”

“I ran….huff….the whole….ugh….way….” I managed to gasp out.  Part of me felt like puking, but I was pretty sure the muscles in my abdomen were too busy to figure out the logistics.

Clicking her tongue, she pulled me up from the floor. “Alistair, make a note to suggest to Xio that Sophia’s quarters be relocated once we have a better idea of when we are dropping into real space.”

I nodded numbly. “And probably… amp up… sensors… give… earlier… warning.”

“Nice outfit, by the way,” she laughed quietly as we finally reached the shelter point within the Archives.

Glancing down, I had to suppress a sigh. The first thing I grabbed to dress myself had apparently been a pair of Conor’s boxer shorts and a very filthy t-shirt that I assumed belonged to Maverick, since Conor’s was usually under coveralls. “At least you can’t say I took my time getting dressed.”

Her shaking head was greeted by faces in various states of wakefulness - this had been a drill, and woke nearly the entire Ark during their sleep interval on Delta shift.  But we weren’t out of the woods, yet: the drill didn’t end until all of Xiomara and Evan’s scenarios played out, including the mock combat and various tests of concealment for the other shelters.  As such, Tyche stood guard over the choke-point into this section, while Alistair had stayed behind at the entrance.

Early on, when the drills started, there had been fifty-fifty odds that the mock-invaders would make it this far, but over the past few weeks, that had narrowed to maybe twenty-percent.  It was still too high a chance in my judgement, and Xiomara clearly agreed as she stepped up training schedules and randomized the timing of the drills. 

Taking a swig of water from a stash of bottles, I queued up my datapad and stood next to Tyche, watching the ‘casualties’ from a point where no one could see over my shoulder to avoid panic, which I would have done in a real situation. “They didn’t find mess hall seven this time,” I murmured.

She glanced at my screen. “Acoustics are still too damned high. She must not be simulating for that this go around.”

One of the decoy locations lit up. “Looks like this time it’s heavy on thermal.” The location in question had been equipped with a cooking surface, triggered to activate when the klaxons that had woken me up went off.  Which Xiomara knew, but did not tell the ‘pirates’ for authenticity.

“How did they get past the combatants this time?” She asked, both curious and slightly worried.

Rolling back the sensor data, I watched it carefully. “Looks like these got in during the initial breaches, multiple points. But the line has held since, that’s good.”

Doing another check toward Alistair’s direction, she didn’t seem to see anything concerning. “How many?”

“Four,” I confirmed.  “Sam’s thermal camouflage is working beautifully, though.”  I couldn’t help but grin, and Tyche snorted at the same time. ‘Thermal camouflage’ was a bit of overkill as a name, but it was working well in every round. Potential access points were equipped with fast-acting environmental simulators - originally designed for temporary habitats on inhospitable moons - modified to release atmosphere like a Terran equatorial rainforest within one minute in an enclosed space.  It was a much more simple and elegant solution than any others we had found for giving combatants defending the Ark an advantage - instead of trying to create technology to make them look colder, make the entire area match human heat signatures.  Boom, instantly blinded enemies.

A tense half-hour later, the ‘all clear’ sounded, queueing grumbling from those who had dozed back off as everyone stood to make their ways back to their quarters. I waited with Alistair and Tyche for everyone else to be accounted for on the way out, and the three of us headed back toward our quarters together.  Alistair peeled off first, living closest to the Archives, and no sooner had my sister and I reached my door than the page sounded for the post-drill meeting.  She waved me off as she answered on her databand, and I did the same as I pushed into my quarters and flopped on the couch. “Councillor Sophia Reid, present, audio only,” I answered. “And no jokes, Pranav… I look like I smell awful.”

“Alistair Worthington, present, audio and video. I can confirm that she does, and she does.”

Laughter filled the comms and the rest of the group leaders and Councillors joined the debrief.  Finally, everyone was present and Xiomara called the meeting to order.  First, the leaders of each shelter reported in, as those usually went the fastest. There were a couple malfunctions in the deployment of the shielding to disguise the entrances and hide heat and electrical signatures, but nothing Huynh’s team couldn’t fix.  Tyche and Alistair made the recommendations around earlier detection and the need to move those sheltering in the  Archives closer as we approached time to drop out of relativistic space. 

Once that was out of the way, it was on to the combat and invasion teams. Overall consensus was that Sam’s trick with the portable environments was a rousing success and would be installed at each point determined to be most likely as a breach, with trigger conditions to be determined later. “I hate to say it,” Michael sighed, “but we also need Charly’s team to crank up the scovilles on the arrows and grenades.” His team had played the ‘invaders’ this go around, equipped with sensors and readouts to simulate the effect our defenses would have on the various species who most commonly were found on pirate vessels.  Evan had worked intensely with Pranav and Derek to ensure that the strategies provided by the readouts were modelled after similar strategies based on which ever species each team member was assigned, to ensure we weren’t accidentally drilling against human tactics.

Michael hated it, but he was strict about his team complying nonetheless.

“Seriously?” I squawked, and I wasn’t the only one. “One of those things accidentally went off in my quarters…. Can confirm, they’re pretty potent.”

“They dissipated too fast against my team, and also the contact element left a lot to be desired. Charly, you may want to consider adding a sticking element.”

“Duly noted,” she chimed in with a yawn, her normal pep doused by being woken up and then the drop in adrenaline post-combat.

“What about the sonic weapons?” Xiomara asked, moving the meeting along.

“Still less effective than Nixe is on her own,” a familiar voice I couldn’t put a name to responded with a sheepish tone.  “How hard would it be to train more people to shatter glass with their voice?”

“Incredibly,” Grey stressed. “It takes a very unique combination of training and the right vocal chords.”

“Then we may need to work on adding a projection component.  The sonic devices can match the pitch, but not the actual tone and direction. They’re very effective given time and especially contact, but we need something more immediately disabling.”

Xiomara groaned. “Are we back to Mariah Carey on this one?” Objections exploded until she muted the comms. “It’s that or opera.” Votes started scrolling up the screen, and I could see Xio nod. “Opera it is.  Let’s find a suitable piece and try using more analogue-style speakers.”

“I still say that death metal would work better,” Arthur suggested as soon as the comms were back on.

“Annnnd we already tested it, I will remind you. The volume works, but the pitches aren’t high enough to hit a broad enough population of species sensitive to sound.” After that nearly-obligatory objection, the meeting continued going through reports from each combat team until finally Xiomara announced the end results. “I have to admit, this was one of our best drills yet. Ten percent casualties of the combatants defending the breaches, only two percent among non-combatants, and the invaders were only able to traverse three decks before they were subdued.” She let the cheers go for a couple seconds before getting everyone’s attention again. “Yes, great job on the improvements, but let me remind everyone - those numbers still leave us below threshold for a healthy genetic population. Engineering teams, make the necessary adjustments with whatever resources are necessary. Shelters Three and Seven, you will start training for armed and unarmed combat with Shelter Fourteen and Combat Team Two daily.  Sophia, your team will coordinate schedules. Any questions?”

There were no arguments, not even a groan or mutter as the meeting was dismissed. Before I could even add the new task to my agenda the next day, I received the notification that Alistair had beaten me to the punch.

Glancing at the time, I wanted to hit something.  I had to be back up and at work in four hours, and the realization weighed me down with exhaustion.  The guys had come in and gone to bed while I was in the debrief, and I could already hear synchronized snoring coming from the bedroom.  Rather than risk waking them with my now-frozen feet, I pulled the quilt off the back of my couch and rolled myself into it.  Only minutes later, a heavy weight oozed across my hip and started purring furiously.

“Yeah, buddy. I agree. We need a nap.”

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

[thegreymoon]

What are some dramas you'd recommend for someone who hasn't seen anything other than Love020 ?

Thanks

Hey, anon!

I haven't watched that many c-dramas and modern dramas are not my thing in general, but if you like modern romance, I would definitely recommend Love is Sweet. The main couple is excellent and hilarious (the secondary couple is awful, but easy to fast-forward through) and they have insane chemistry together.

The only other modern c-drama I watched is Broker, but that is simply not the greatest and I recommend it only to Luo Yunxi fans who are willing to put up with a lot of nonsense for his pretty face. The same goes for Lie to Love, but I couldn't sit through that one even for Luo Yunxi because the female lead reinvents the meaning of the word terrible and is simply unwatchable. I had to quit on episode 2. People who persevered tell me that it apparently gets better as it goes on (confirmation needed from those who finished the show, please) but I'm really not that much of a masochist to try and find out for myself.

Another modern one that I have on my watch list is When a Snail Falls in Love. I haven't started this one yet but I've only heard good things about it and I cannot stress enough how much I love Wang Kai, so maybe that is also a good place to start.

With that said, if you're willing to branch out into historical and fantasy stuff, I can recommend a few.

1. Monarch Industry, which I'm watching right now. It is easily the best c-drama I have watched so far (I'm on episode 61/68 so I seriously doubt that there is anything they can do at this point that will change my mind on this). It has one of the best male leads I have ever come across in my entire history of drama watching and the female lead is awesome as well! In addition, the drama is intelligent and well-made.

2. Nirvana in Fire, also an excellent place to start for the historical stuff. This one is a favourite of people with good taste in general, it's really excellent (and it has Wang Kai, who is awesome). Extremely well-made, fantastic battle scenes, awesome characters, and only derails a little bit towards the end. *grumbles about yetis and improbable c-drama medicine*

3. If you like BL, Word of Honor is really good! Even if you don't like BL, it's still very good! They had a tiny budget, which shows sometimes, but they made the best of what they had and it turned out to be a surprise hit because it really turned out wonderful. Unfortunately, they cut their funding before they could finish the drama so they had to reduce the number of episodes towards the end, which shows, but it is only the last few episodes, so you don't feel the effect too much. 90% of the drama is very coherent and well-made.

4. Obligatory mention for The Untamed and Ever Night.

The Untamed is beloved for good reason, it is a BL fantasy and the story is compelling and the characters are very lovable, but the special effects are a disaster. If you can't get past the wonky zombies and monsters, you will not enjoy it. With that said, the music and talisman magic are gorgeous, and while I adored it, I am careful when reccing it to people.

Ever Night is fantastic for the first 30 episodes. Like, so so so good! It is quite violent, though, so if you are looking for romance and sweetness, it's best that you skip this one. Also, watching the second half of this show (i.e. 30 more episodes 😭😭) is one of the most infuriating experiences I ever put myself through. My recommendation for anyone giving this drama a go is to watch the first 30 and just pretend the rest doesn't exist.

C-drama friends, please feel free to add on and help anon out! Drop your recs below, especially if you know of any good modern ones! 🤗🤗

#c-dramas

[lilfellasblog]

King Roman and the Fake Harem

Summary: King Roman has enemies directly outside his walls, pressure from inside his walls to get a harem, and no solution in sight. Until he sees the solution has been right under his nose the entire time. This is the story of how an aroace King gets a harem of advisors.

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience.

TW: Two brief instances of sexual harassment, one instance of groping, swearing (because Virgil), and people sneering at sex workers/ presumed sex workers.

Word count: 2385

AO3 here!

Fic Masterlist here!

King Roman sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Ugh, give me a few hours to think of something,” he groaned.

His lead advisor that he’d inherited from his father, who Roman refused to refer to as anything but Orange, protested “But sir, we need a decision soon. It’s already been a week since enemy troops positioned themselves just outside our walls, and we’ve done little besides ask them to leave. That, on top of your lack of harem-”

“I’ll have something for you in two hours, regarding the troops,” Roman said, waving Orange away.

Orange huffed and spun on his heel, leaving the throne room grumbling. Roman brushed a hand over his face. A week into being king and the enemy decides to attack? The nerve!

“You know, if you roll out the catapults to the front gate, that would take care of the troops outside the walls on that side, and then you could concentrate your archers on the rear of the kingdom walls.”

Roman looked over to the side of his throne. Sir Virgil had been his best knight, until he’d been shot by an arrow that had permanently damaged his shoulder. That was 4 weeks ago, he was still in a sling, and ever since he’d been released from the medical wing he’d been making his lack of work everyone else’s problem.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “And just how would you propose moving the catapults from the armory down 100 feet of stairs to the front entrance, hm?”

Sir Virgil shrugged. “Ramps.”

Roman stopped short. Oh, he’s smart. “...very well.” He appraised Virgil. He’ll never be able to be a knight again and he needs something to do, and he’s not too unfortunate-looking… “How would you like a job?”

/////

Virgil adjusted the silks that hid exactly nothing of his upper body so they’d sit comfortably over his still-bandaged arm and shoulder. He was about to join his first ever advisor meeting, and he was beyond nervous. He’d been rather enjoying his life as the first member of Roman’s harem (that so far hadn’t even resulted in a single flirtatious remark, which Virgil wasn’t complaining about but he was certainly confused by), and he didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up.

“Ready?”

Virgil jumped and hissed through his teeth as his shoulder was jostled by the sudden movement.

Roman was frowning. Before Virgil could apologize, Roman asked, “Are you alright? I can have a healer come over. If you’d prefer to sit out this meeting and rest, that would be a more than acceptable course of action.”

Virgil was stunned. “Huh?”

Roman nodded at him. “Your shoulder, it seems to be causing you pain.”

“Oh! It’s not too bad, I’ll be fine. Still getting used to not moving it too much.”

Roman laughed. “Yes, that I have been witness to. Are you ready?”

“Yeah. Do I need to walk, like, meekly or whatever?” Virgil asked, cheeks already heating up at the future humiliation.

A look of disgust came over Roman. “No, I wouldn’t expect that of anyone under my employ.”

Virgil let out a breath. “Alright, cool cool.”

The meeting started out as expected, a few snickers from his former co-workers who were still knights, but nothing Virgil couldn’t ignore. Virgil recognized Orange by his blaze orange ensemble that hurt his eyes (no wonder Roman refused to give Virgil his actual name). When it came time to discuss military tactics, Roman spoke first.

“I would like to introduce my military advisor, Sir Virgil. Sir Virgil, if you would, please announce your strategy for driving off the enemies.”

Before Virgil could get a word out, Virgil’s former boss blurted out, “You’re trusting your military strategy with a common whore?!”

Virgil levelled him with his best death glare. “Call me that again and I’ll cut off your balls and shove them down your throat.”

Only Virgil was close enough to hear the King swallow his laughter at the general’s paling face. Roman cleared his throat and spoke.

“To answer your question, yes. Sir Virgil, if you wouldn’t mind continuing?”

Virgil smirked. “Gladly.” For the next 20 minutes, Virgil confidently discussed his strategy with the catapults and archers, fielded questions, and specified the ideal placements. As the meeting drew to a close and Roman went to do the obligatory schmoozing with top leaders (Virgil noticed with glee how the military personel scrambled to get out, supposedly to “update the troops”), the Lead Advisor of Common Education approached Virgil. Virgil did the customary respectful bow, which the advisor returned.

“I trust King Roman is treating you well?” he inquired, blue eyes sparkling from beneath a sandy fringe.

“Yes, very much so. This fucked up rotator cuff is the best thing to happen to me,” Virgil internally winced at his choice of words. Gonna have to work on that.

The advisor just laughed. “I suppose it must be! Surely, being part of a harem is much more comfortable than being a knight.”

Virgil shrugged, and winced as he once again forgot about his injured shoulder. “Yeah, it is. I’m just glad I can help in some capacity by being a strategic advisor.”

“Yes, yes, that must be quite fun for you,” the advisor purred. Virgil bristled at his condescending tone. “Do let me know if you require more… attention than what King Roman provides.”

Virgil wrinkled his face. He focused on Roman, and heard his attention was on Orange who was insisting that one person could hardly be considered a harem. “I think I’m good.”

“Oh, of course, of course, but do keep me in mind.” And before Virgil realized what was happening, the advisor had patted his ass.

Virgil used his good arm to grab the man’s offending hand, twist him around, bring him to his knees, and place a foot on the middle of his back.

“Ow! You stupid whore, get off-”

“What is the meaning of this?!” King Roman thundered.

Virgil released the advisor. “This guy was perving all over me, and I get I’m part of a harem but I don’t stand for that shit.”

“It was just a love tap!”

King Roman’s face was red with anger. “Sir Virgil, he encroached on your person?”

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“You are relieved of your duties.”

Virgil sagged while the advisor smiled smugly. Welp, the grapes and silk were fun while they lasted. “Yeah, okay.”

Roman jerked back a bit in confusion. “What? No, you,” he glared at the now-ex-advisor.

The advisor was aghast. “Excuse me? How dare you!”

“How dare you, touching a man without his consent and then having the gall to speak to me in such a tone!”

Virgil was in too much shock to process the rest of the conversation. He came back to his senses just outside the medical wing. Roman was instructing the doctor to recheck Virgil’s bandages as they didn’t seem to quite hold his shoulder still, and sighed in relief when he caught Virgil watching them.

“Virgil, there you are! Are you alright? Say the word, and I’ll arrange for you to speak with our mind doctor.”

Virgil blinked a few times.

Roman turned back to the doctor. “Could he have gone into shock? Does he need-”

Virgil shook his head to unfreeze his brain. “No, I’m fine. I’ve had people trying to kill me, part of the job, I’m okay.”

King Roman furrowed his brow. “Are you sure? Truly, if you need to talk to someone-”

Virgil held his good hand up. “I’m fine, promise. I’ll talk to someone later if I need to.”

Roman sighed in relief. “Thank goodness. Oh! The military is deploying your strategy as we speak! I thought I’d let you know before the good doctor looked you over.”

“Dope! Wait, what?”

King Roman was walking away. “I’ll see you once you’re tended to!” he called over his shoulder.

“What are you talking about, my shoulder… actually kinda hurts, okay fine.”

/////

One successful defeat of an opposing military later, and Roman had removed yet another advisor from his circle for creepy behavior.

“Hey Princey, I appreciate you defending my honor and shit, but that was the Lead Advisor of Trade,” Virgil began.

“And I’m better off without him!” Roman declared.

Virgil scratched his chin. “I mean yeah, but also you have a trade meeting with neighboring kingdoms coming up in a week, and two days after that you have an internal trade meeting with surrounding villages and the farmers within the city walls.”

Roman started stretching his arms and back in a way Virgil had identified meant he was stressed. “And there has been even more talk of my small harem, which does not bode well for external negotiations,” Roman murmured to himself.

Virgil shifted. “Yeah, that. Why don’t you just have your new advisors be part of your harem like me?”

Roman paused. “That’s… brilliant! Thank you Virgil!”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, no problem. It’s a pretty sweet gig. Although I don’t know why you haven’t-” he cut himself off with an awkward cough.

King Roman looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I’m afraid I’m not… particularly interested in those activities. I apologize if I’ve disappointed you.”

Virgil let out a breath. “I mean, I’m kinda relieved, not that you’re not hot! But I’d rather not break my two rules.”

Roman preened at the compliment. “What are your two rules?”

“Don’t shit where you eat and don’t fuck where you work.”

“Ah.”

“Look, there might be enough time to get someone else up to speed before the trade meetings. But you’ll have to choose someone quickly.”

Roman sat down in his throne and looked skyward in thought. “Are you familiar with Patton Hart? He’s already organized the internal farmers into their current union. What of him?”

Virgil remembered running into him right after a difficult mission and somehow ending up with a bag of tomatoes, a bag of bell peppers, and strict instructions to bathe and sleep. “Yeah, he’s a good guy.”

“How do you think he’d do as an advisor?”

Virgil didn’t have to think for long. “I think he’d be awesome. Want me to talk to him?”

“If you’d be so kind. And please assure him that his role would be strictly as an advisor.”

Virgil smirked. “You mean a shirtless advisor.”

Roman turned beet red, and Virgil cackled.

/////

Before Virgil knew it, the harem quarters weren’t so lonely. Patton had agreed to join, very happy with the wardrobe and quickly making a name for himself. Patton had, in turn, recommended Logan Logos to replace the other creepy advisor. Logan had run a very successful pre-K Montessori program before joining the palace harem, and he fit in with the rest of the advising circle well, already creating reforms to account for diverse learning styles. In fact, Virgil had noticed that the advisors who weren’t part of the harem started taking him and Patton more seriously once the proper and strong Logan had joined them.

The day of the inter-kingdom trade meeting had come, and Logan and Virgil would both be attending along with Patton. Everyone was nervous about how the sweet and gentle Patton would do at such a fierce and antagonist event.

Virgil’s shoulder was out of the cast and sling, although it was still tender. He clapped a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “Go get ‘em,” he said, trying to be encouraging.

Patton flushed. “Thanks Vee.”

The meeting began, along with the customary hour-long political niceties, and finally it came time for the trade advisors to speak on their leaders’ behalf.

Virgil ground his teeth at the open snickering of Patton’s garb, and he could tell Logan and Roman were feeling the same way. Patton, however, seemed to be unaffected by it all. As expected, the Kingdom of Fiery Fields spoke first.

“King Roman, we propose a 5% increase of taxes for the crops we export to your kingdom, lest we cease all wheat exports to you.”

“You may call me Advisor Hart, and for what reason? We already pay you 12% more for your crops than other kingdoms.”

The platinum blonde man stared at Patton with haughty hazel eyes. “Because, Advisor Hart,” he sneered. “our crops are unmatched in quality!”

Patton nodded his head. “Fair point. I suppose you won’t mind a moratorium on all exports of our steel to your kingdom then?”

It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room.

Platinum Blonde was outraged. “You wouldn’t!”

“Actually, we would. You are now meeting with the new King’s new advisory circle, and we won’t stand for pointless tax increases that a review of the books show only go to pay the noblewomen you’re cheating on your wife with,” Patton stated, smiling sweetly the entire time.

Half of the trade advisors around the table laughed, while the other half gawked. Platinum Blonde backed down, and the trade meeting lasted for only 2 days instead of the typical 3 since Patton effectively shut down any ego-based bullshitting that occurred.

/////

Virgil and Patton were taking turns trying to toss grapes into each others’ mouths, laughing, while Logan pretended to be irritated by their antics. The doors opened suddenly to show Orange, in his eye-burning all-orange ensemble.

“Hiya!” Patton chirped, hiding his own discomfort. They were all intensely disliked by Orange, who seemed to blame them for Roman not being interested in sex or romance.

Orange sniffed. “Advisor Logos, the noble King would like to extend his congratulations on the tax reform that redirected many of the fees of our noblepeople to educational supplies.”

Logan nodded at him. “Thank you. I’m quite proud of that myself and am very glad it came to fruition. Was their anything else you required, Advisor Wrath?”

“What?!” Virgil and Patton shouted at the same time. They whipped their heads over to Orange.

“No. Good day.” With that, Orange - or rather, Advisor Wrath - left their room.

Virgil and Patton turned back to Logan, who was seemingly reading again.

“Dude what the fuck-”

“How the heck did you know?!”

Logan just raised an eyebrow while continuing to read. “I have a way of finding things out,” he said, looking up for a second to smirk at them before going back to his book.

Virgil and Patton decided to not test Logan’s abilities.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #aroace Roman Sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #Sanders sides fanfic #Sanders sides fanfiction #patton sanders #ts sides

[hale-13]

Violation of Order

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 14 - Hair Grabbing

Peter settled earlier than anyone else he knew and he could only attribute it to one person. Since then, he and Zara had a hard time being more than a few feet away from each other - he needed her close to protect her from ever going through that again.

Words: 2151, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Tony Stark

TW: Non-Consensual Touching, Implied Sexual Assault, Panic Attacks

Daemon AU

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

Contrary to what popular scientific and psychological research would imply, Peter settled early.

Zara had always enjoyed shifting, bouncing between fifteen to twenty forms a day to whatever suited her fancy in the moment and taking great pleasure in trying every fantastical creature she and Peter could dream up. Peter was always one of the smallest of his peers so she liked to be big and intimidating compared to those around him.

Well, until his parents died.

After that Zara tended to prefer small and agile creatures, animals that could hide in Peter’s pockets or the hood of his jacket – where they could get skin to skin contact. Snakes that could coil around his arms, birds that could nest in his ratty hair, ferrets that could curl up around his neck and tickle his chin. Peter didn’t mind the extra comfort, he and Zara were always extremely close but they couldn’t stand to be more than a few feet from each other after he came to live with May and Ben.

Skip’s daemon had been a wolf – an odd sight in New York – and had held Zara tight in her jaws to get Peter to comply.

Zara had screamed and cried and shifted and clawed at the other daemon to get away resulting in Skip gripping her tightly in one fist and tossing her into the wall. Peter and Zara had screamed in unison at the unwelcome touch and had been stunned enough for Skip to get what he wanted.

When Zara settled into an opossum later that night they had cried together for their lost childhoods. For growing up too quickly. For knowing that it was probably going to happen again and feeling helpless to stop it. Sen and Lotte, May and Ben’s daemons had cuddled and groomed Zara the next day, trying to offer what comfort they could while May and Ben tried to get through to Peter. It wasn’t until months later that Zara finally spoke up on Peter’s behalf to save them.

Peter’s been through a lot in his life but the only thing that came close to have his soul manhandled was the Bite and Ben’s subsequent death.

At the single Easter Mass May had taken him too in his early years living with his aunt and uncle, the priest had described death as beautiful – the entry into the next life. The dust from the deceased’s daemon a shower of blessings on the ones they loved. The dust from Lotte, a beautiful yellow lab, was the least beautiful thing Peter had ever seen as it mixed with the blood coating the ground and settled into his and Zara’s hair. The sight of it washing off and down the drain later was even worse.

Peter’s main goal as Spider-Man became protecting others from having to experience something similar.

“Peter!” Ned said, pulling Peter out of his wandering and back into the present. His macaw daemon, Veerle, was flaring her scarlet plumage and adjusting her wings to balance better on his best friend’s shoulder and trying to peer into Peter’s hood where Zara had been snoozing through the last of his classes. “Did you hear anything I said?”

“Uh… yeah of course!” Peter cringed at the obvious lie in his voice and glared at Veerle who snickered at him. Ned just rolled his eyes.

“I was saying we should meet up tomorrow afternoon to get a head start on that project from Harrington. I can’t take the stress of procrastinating again,” Ned told him dramatically, elbowing him lightly in the side as they exited the doors to Midtown and started walking in the direction of Ned’s house.

“It’s not due for a month,” Peter pointed out, shivering as Zara shifted in his hood, wrapping her tail around his neck and propping her head up to rest on his shoulder with a yawn.

“That’s what you said last time,” she pointed out and Peter flicked her on the nose with a scoff of betrayal, ignoring his friend’s laughing. “Hey!”

“Whose side are you on here huh?” He asked in mock anger before breaking out in a smile. It had been a while since he and Ned had had the opportunity to hang out as just the four of them – too long in fact. Peter was excited for the weekend that they had planned; a pizza and movie marathon of some classic Sci-if and now, assumingely, some homework. Whatever, they were still going to have a great time. All Peter needed to do was a quick evening patrol and he was done for the weekend.

“Ned,” Zara answered, rubbing her nose dramatically with a paw. Peter rolled his eyes at her as he started scoping for a good alley to change in that was close to Ned’s house, spotting a good one not too far ahead.

“I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours and then I can get started on my part,” Peter promised Ned as he made his way to the alley. “I promise this time.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Ned said with an eye roll, his face a little pinched but still indulgent. “Try not to get stabbed this time.”

“No promises,” Peter muttered as they parted. Not that he would tell Ned if he did get injured anyway; he kept a pretty decent first aid kit with him at all times and he felt pretty confident that he could hide any injury from his friend until it completely healed. The alley he ducked into was empty except for the couple beaten dumpsters that Peter hid behind to change into his suit, offering his open back for Zara to climb into. Patrolling with her wasn’t always the easiest but they had settled into a rhythm for the most part.

Firing a web, Peter took off into Queens, hoping for a relaxing afternoon.

————————————————

It was nearing eleven when Ned sent his obligatory ‘I told you so’ text complete with eye roll emoji that Peter left on read just for the principal of the thing. It had been a busy Friday evening and had only just started to slow down enough for Peter and Zara to take a breather – he was thankful May was working tonight so he wouldn’t get caught inevitably breaking his curfew.

“I think we’re done,” Zara told him with a yawn, her head poked out the top of his book bag and looking over his shoulder as Peter leisurely swung from web to web heading, vaguely, toward home.

He hummed. “One more quick scan,” he compromised and Zara grumbled a little but didn’t protest when he said “Got anything for me K?”

“Sure thing Peter,” Karen’s chirpy voice replied. “An emergency call was just placed two blocks away for a possible mugging in progress.”

“Throw it up on the screen for me,” Peter said, hopping off the roof he was perched on and swinging toward the blinking red dot on his HUD as quickly as he could. Zara sighed from his backpack and kept her head poked out to observe. Muggings weren’t (normally) that big of a deal so she didn’t really hide in the bag as much for those – unless it started to get really hairy.

“That’s all I have! I promise I don’t have anything else!” A man’s voice yelled, the timbre trembling and terrified as Peter swung onto the scene. The victim couldn’t have been much older than Peter and he and his robin daemon were pressed as tightly to the dirty brick wall as they could get, trying to stay away from the mugger brandishing a knife and his corgi daemon – growling and snarling between his legs.

“Lovely evening right gentlemen?” Peter quipped as he dropped to the ground in a crouch a few feet away. “Perfect time to get into a little larceny am I right?”

“This doesn’t involve you Spider-Man,” the mugger said, turning to face Peter instead, his daemon showing her teeth. Zara, head still poked out of his backpack, hissed loudly in return and scuttled up to sit on Peter’s shoulder, anchoring herself with her tail around his neck and digging her sharp little claws into his suit.

“You know,” Peter told him conversationally, standing and trying to telepathically communicate to the victim to make his escape out the other end of the alley. “That’s what they all say but I just can’t seem to mind my own business,” he shrugged as if to say ‘oh well’ and took a step closer. The victim had started edging out of the alley so Peter needed to keep up with the distraction until he was safe. “Now how’s about you put the knife away and I’ll web you to the wall and we all leave here friends?”

The mugger scoffed and turned to look at his victim with a ‘can you believe this guy’ expression on his face before it darkened at the sight of his escaping prey.”Hey!” He yelled, turning fully and reaching out to grab the man – knife raising threateningly. Peter, in an act of desperation, jumped in between them causing the man to grab onto Zara by the scruff of the neck instead.

Peter nearly dropped to the ground under the pain of feeling someone grabbing onto his bare soul and Zara screamed and hissed in the man’s grip, finally biting him on the wrist so he dropped her to the ground, some of her course hair still stuck to his palm and flaking off in pieces. Looking horrified and sick himself, the man took off with his corgi daemon whimpering at his heels leaving Peter alone.

Peter let out a sob, his skin still crawling, and curled up into a tight ball. The last time anyone had touched Zara had been Skip when he had… when he…

“Your heart rate has reached unacceptable levels,” Karen’s clear voice cut through. “Mr. Stark is on his way.”

Peter gasped in response (he couldn’t breathe, why couldn’t he breathe?) and reached out blindly for where Zara was curled up and trembling a few feet away, scooping her into his chest and pressing his masked face into the fur of her side.

“Peter Mr. Stark is three minutes out but you need to control your breathing,” Karen told him gently. “Please follow the prompts on the screen – in for four, hold seven, out eight.”

Peter couldn’t even breathe in for one second let alone four but he tried to follow Karen’s directions – having Zara back in his arms where he could run his fingers through her hair and try to get rid of the unwanted touch that he could still feel phantom echos of helped some but not enough. By the time Tony landed with Silon in his arms a few minutes later Peter hadn’t really managed to improve his mental state by much.

“Oh Pete,” Tony said sadly, stepping out of the suit and kneeling down in front of Peter. “I’m so sorry kiddo.” Peter just let out a loud sob in response but didn’t protest Tony pulling his mask carefully over his head and running calloused fingers through his hair. Silon, Tony’s large serval daemon, cautiously curled over Peter to begin nuzzling Zara, his purr sounding comforting but sad.

“He touched her,” Peter forced out, nearly gagging as he said it, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks for Tony to rub away with his thumbs. “He grabbed her.”

“I know buddy, I saw,” Tony confirmed, levering Peter up to sit cross-legged with his back to the wall and Zara coiled in his lap. “I know there’s nothing I can say that will help but I’ve got Happy on the way. We’re going back to the Tower and we’re going to watch Star Wars and you’re going to cuddle with her okay? It’ll help.”

Peter nodded erratically, gripping Zara tighter for a moment and then releasing her when she reached out one of her paws to Silon. He let her climb onto his back and grip onto him with all four limbs and tail, craning his neck back to groom her gently. “The last person to touch her was… it was… I didn’t want…”

“I know Petey,” Tony told him as he pulled him in for a firm hug that Peter was quick to reciprocate, clinging onto his mentor just as tightly as Zara was to Silon. “I know buddy, just let it out.”

There were some things that Tony Stark could fix – Peter could trust him to try to fix just about any problem he was presented with – but Peter knew that this would be one of those things that would be cracked inside of him forever. Something that no one besides Peter and Zara could work on and something that would always haunt them. But, sitting there with his mentor in one of the dirty alleys of Queens, Peter thought he could feel it mending.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump14 #Prompt: Hair Grabbing #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump 2021

[chocoluckchipz]

The Other You - 2

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

< Previous

His body heavy, eyes drooping closed, Adrien released his transformation and flopped on his bed face down. Who in the world thought that him running a fashion empire after spending all day teaching the principles of physics to teenagers was a good idea? Add in Chat Noir’s obligatory patrols, and you've got yourself a sleep-deprived, confused, and stressed disaster of a man. Yet, despite his exhaustion, Adrien’s lips stretched in a smile as soon as his head collided with a pillow.

“I’m so tempted to just sleep,” he whispered into the silence of his bedroom. “There’s always morning for changing clothes and grooming.”

“Do whatever you want,” Plagg puffed. “But I need disinfection. Seriously, you two need to get a room and preferably a kwami-free one. I didn’t sign up for this uncivilized, touchy-feely stuff. Can’t you just reveal identities and free me from being an involuntary participant in your grossly romantic endeavours?”

“If it were up to me, I would've done that a long time ago,” Adrien murmured. His shoes and clothes already on the floor, he crawled under the comforter, yawning. “But, you know just as well as I do that it isn't up to me, and Ladybug might actually be right about it being dangerous.”

“Hawkmoth hasn’t been active for years,” Plagg whined, finishing wiping himself with a sanitizing towelette and immediately heading straight for his stash of Camembert. “He’s probably dead already. Why do you still need to keep these masks on?”

“Hawkmoth not being active for a while isn’t proof that we’ll never see him again,” Adrien replied, wrapping himself around his pillow. “What if he’s just waiting for us to put our guard down to strike?”

“He isn’t that smart.”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Adrien yawned again. “The man kept us on our toes for a decade. But even if, presumably, he’s out for good, this isn't the time to start a relationship still.”

“Why not?”

“Plagg, please,” Adrien mumbled, his eyes closed as he snuggled the pillow closer. “You know as well as I do that Ladybug is going through a rough period right now. Her job now demands all of her time and attention thanks to that jerk-boss that ditched them. Her relationship with her roommate—her best friend may I add—seems to worsen every time I hear about it. And have you even seen her? She’s lost weight and looks pale and tired all the time.” Adrien paused, opening his eyes. His chest tightened as he looked into the darkness of his bedroom. “Right now, Ladybug needs a friend who’ll support her, not another relationship to work on. And since I can’t help her with her civilian life, I’d be damned if I added to her problems.”

Adrien rolled over and pulled his comforter over his head. Ladybug needed a friend right now, not a boyfriend, and he loved her too much to add a romantic relationship to her already nearly unbearable pile. So until she got her promotion, he’d support her as a friend and would remain close for whenever she needed him. Once she reached her goal, though, that would change because then, Ladybug would actually have time and strength for a relationship with him. Otherwise, Adrien was afraid he was risking ruining everything before it even started. He’d already waited for her for years, he could certainly wait a little longer.  

“Whatever you say, lover boy,” Plagg murmured and started to settle in his little bed, turning and twisting until he found the perfect position. “Goodnight, kid.”

“Goodnight, Plagg,” Adrien replied, his thoughts racing back to his Lady and the effortless friendship they’d developed that tiptoed dangerously on the border of romance. It would come eventually. Adrien knew that, and when it did, he'd make his Lady the happiest girl in all of France. He'd never take her for granted. He'd always—

“Wipe that dopey smile off your face,” Plagg suddenly grumbled. “It’s creepy to grin like an idiot in the dark.”

“How do you even see what I am doing from your wastebasket all the way over there?”

“I don’t need to see it. I can feel it. Now, stop it and go to bed. You have tons of work tomorrow and just a few hours left to sleep.”

“Don’t remind me.” Adrien groaned, flopping on his back. “I should’ve sold my shares and been done with it.”

“Then why did you listen to that dude from your work? You should try it, Adrien,” Plagg mocked. “See for yourself before deciding on what to do: continue teaching or follow in your father’s footsteps. Nonsense, I tell you. You should’ve sold and invested in Camembert production, something useful for once.”

“Max isn't a dude,” Adrien chuckled. “He's a friend, and he has a point. I've spent my life hating the fashion industry only because of my father and his crazy obsession with his work. Maybe—”

“He kicked you out of the house because you followed your passion instead of whatever he wanted you to do.”

“He didn’t kick me out. I left.”

“Doesn’t matter. The point is, this fashion nonsense ruined your life. Why would you want to ‘try it out’?”

“My life isn’t ruined. And I think it’s smart to make sure I really do hate heading a fashion empire instead of simply projecting my failed relationship with my father on the whole industry.”

“A load of BS if you ask me.”

“What’s the big deal, anyway? It’s just for a few months. If I don’t like it by the end of the summer, I’m selling.”

“It’s May now—”

“Almost June.”

“Still May, meaning that there are more than a few months until the end of the summer. And good luck enjoying each and every one of them with Marinette around. She gave you quite a welcome today, didn’t she?”  

Adrien froze, all sleep vanishing at once, events of the past that changed his life forever flashing in front of his eyes.

***

On the day of their high school graduation, Marinette confessed. She blushed and stuttered and was absolutely adorable, expressing in the most beautiful and sincere of ways just how much he meant to her. When she finished speaking, with a trembling, hopeful smile on her lips, she raised her eyes, full of fear and anxiety, to look at him, but stunned, Adrien couldn't reply for the longest time.

He loved Marinette. He truly did, but only as a dear, close friend. He hated to reject her feelings, but even if Adrien wanted to give Marinette his heart, he couldn't. It had belonged to Ladybug ever since the day they’d met.

Speechless, all Adrien was able to do was look back at Marinette with eyes full of regret and apology. She didn’t need words to understand his answer. Whispering something he didn’t quite catch, Marinette escaped before Adrien could do as little as to say how sorry he was.

He’d never forgiven himself for breaking her heart, and if only he had been more careful, Adrien was certain they would’ve gotten through that incident without losing their friendship. Unfortunately, Adrien wasn’t so lucky. A few days later, he learned that Marinette had been pre-approved for an internship at his father's company. He lost his sleep over it because, living his whole life in the shadow of Gabriel Agreste, Adrien knew quite well what working for his father entailed and what it did to people as nice as Marinette. Sure, from the sidelines, being an employee at the hottest fashion house around seemed glamorous and exciting. In reality, there were only two options: you either allow this work to squash you and have a nervous breakdown before your first year was up, or you become just like his father—a cold, emotionless, heartless workaholic. There were no in-betweens or exceptions as far as Adrien was aware.

He couldn't let any of those happen to Marinette. Not when he wouldn’t be there to protect her. Not when, following a massive argument with his father over his plans for the future less than a week ago, Adrien was about to walk out of there himself. As of that moment, Adrien was supposed to move out of his childhood home by the end of the month if he wanted to pursue his dream of becoming a teacher. Otherwise, he’d have to cater to his father’s every whim indefinitely. The choice was clear, and seeing as he was escaping that hell of a company himself, Adrien couldn't silently stand on the sidelines and watch Marinette try to get on board. Not when, unlike him, she didn't know the reality of working for his father. Sadly enough, considering the timing, Adrien doubted that based on his words alone, Marinette would ditch her lifelong dream of working for Gabriel in favour of any other fashion houses that were sure to welcome her with open arms as soon as they saw her portfolio.

That's why he'd done it. That's why Adrien stole her file from his father's office.

He only wanted to protect her. He never meant any harm. He planned to sneak her portfolio to a few of his acquaintances in the other fashion houses that would be a much better fit for Marinette than his father's company ever could.

Perhaps, he could've chosen a better way to go about that, but at that moment, this was all that Adrien could come up with. Better timing also would’ve been nice. With his rejection of her confession, the moment to mess around with Marinette’s passions was as wrong as could be. Still, Adrien was confident his plan would work. The next day, he had a photoshoot for a fashion house that was on top of his list of better options for Marinette, so he stashed a copy of her portfolio in his bag and didn’t think twice about it.

Big mistake.

An hour before he was supposed to leave for the said photoshoot, Alya and Nino dragged him out of the house, picked up Marinette on their way and headed to their favourite cafe for some celebration he couldn’t even remember now. Despite the slight awkwardness between Marinette and him, their hang out turned out to be quite enjoyable. So pleasant, in fact, that Adrien let his guard down and made the second biggest mistake of his life—he’d allowed Alya to rummage around in his bag for mints while he visited the men's room before departing for his photoshoot.

Huge… colossal mistake.

Adrien stopped short of reaching the table on his way back. His friends stared at him in shock; his gaze focused on Marinette.

“Is this the reason no one could find my application when I called them three days ago?” She whispered, looking him straight in the eyes as she clutched her portfolio in her hands. “And the day after that? And yesterday? Today as well? They couldn’t find my portfolio because you took it?”

His body and mind paralyzed, Adrien stood frozen in place. He hadn't expected Marinette to find out. He hadn't the slightest idea of what to do or say.

Hastily, Marinette gathered her things and headed for the door only to halt her steps in front of him a moment later.

“Why?” she asked, her voice trembling. “I can understand and accept you not returning my feelings; no one can control their heart. But this?” Her voice cracked as tears escaped her eyes and streamed down her face. “Why would you be so cruel? What did I do to you to deserve this?”

Stunned, Adrien helplessly watched Marinette for a few moments, his dumbfounded silence only fueling her already rushed assumption about the situation. When his speech had returned, he’d scrambled to explain.

“You can’t work for my father.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Oh. And why?”

“It’s a bad idea. You don’t know what working for him can do to you. Marinette, I’ve been there. I’ve seen things… terrible things that happen to people because they can’t handle the workload and demands. I don’t want you there. I don’t want you—”

Marinette raised her hand and spat, “Stop it. I don’t care what you’ve seen there. Those people aren't me. This is not yourdecision to make, Adrien. It’s my life. My decisions. And if it would be a mistake, I want to be the one making it!”

“But—”

“Save it. I thought we were friends, but I guess I was wrong. Friends support each other, not—” She swallowed, looking away, and quietly added, “If my feelings are so much of an inconvenience to you that you didn’t even want me working at your father’s company, you should’ve said so. I would have stayed away on my own. You didn’t have to do this.”

With those words, she walked away. Alya and Nino followed.  

“I can’t believe you,” Alya had snarled. Nino kept looking down as he followed his girlfriend.

They’d kicked him out of their private chat room that same day. Adrien's multiple calls, emails and texts over the next few weeks to the three had gone unanswered. His hope for a chance to explain had been slowly dying, and in the end, it was Chloe—the only friend who remained by his side—who’d convinced him to give up. His heart was breaking, but Chloe was likely right; if none of his friends had responded by then, they’d probably blocked him. Adrien had some pride left, and he wasn’t going to impose himself on anyone in person if they wouldn't speak to him over the phone. There was only so much he could do trying to fix that mess; and he’d done more than enough. By the end of the month, Adrien moved out of the mansion, changed his contacts, and tried to start a new life, leaving everyone behind.

With his move, his relationship with his father had taken a sharp turn for the worse, the two of them becoming as good as strangers. Thankfully, Adrien had enough work and savings to support himself. Soon, he’d found new friends in university, and life seemed to be regaining at least some sense of normalcy. He regretted neither leaving his father nor trying to stop Marinette from entering Gabriel. Quite the opposite, Adrien would've never forgiven himself if he hadn't tried to save her from the claws of the monster called Gabriel Agreste.

Years passed. Adrien graduated and began working as a physics teacher at a local high school, ending his modelling career as soon as he’d signed his teaching contract.

He never heard much from Gabriel until the day his lawyer called from a hospital. A few murmured words of apology from his father in his final moments couldn’t fix anything, but in his heart, Adrien still mourned. He still cared because no matter how estranged they'd grown, Gabriel was still his father and there had been times when Adrien had been happy with him. He wished it could've been different. He wished they could've had a better relationship, but it was a little too late to change anything when his father was taking his final breaths. A failure on both sides. Adrien mourned that as well.

***

Adrien shifted in his bed. He had never asked to inherit anything. He didn’t need this company. It ruined a good part of his life, and for that, he hated it. Being cut off by his former friends, he didn’t know Marinette had been working there, sending all of his sacrifices to hell. But, boy, was he right. That gorgeous woman that snuck into his father’s office today—yes, he had to admit she was gorgeous; Marinette was always pretty but she had bloomed into a beautiful woman—was so exhausted that her beauty was barely visible. A thick layer of exhaustion glazed over her stunning blue eyes; her flawless skin looked pale; the sagging curve of her pink lips did absolutely nothing to accentuate her loveliness. The deep frown line in the middle of her forehead might have been there because of meeting him, but still, Adrien’s heart tightened. Working for his father hadn’t been merciful to Marinette.

Just as he’d predicted.

The worst part of all, however, was that Marinette seemed to not see it herself, fighting for a company that, without a strong leader, was quickly going under. Didn’t she have anyone in her life to care enough for her to shake her out of that trance? Didn’t she—

A thought popped into his head so unexpected and crazy, his eyes widened. It was rather insane, but perhaps fate was giving him a chance to redeem himself?

Whatever wrong he’d done before, his intentions were always pure: to help Marinette. She used to be his friend. He cared for her. Surely fate or destiny or whatever cosmic force that controlled his luck saw that and thought it unfair for Adrien to be condemned for what he hadn’t done. He wasn’t a backstabber; he was a loyal friend.

So, perhaps if he was the bigger person and helped Marinette now, she’d see his noble objective and would have to admit that he wasn’t as horrible of a person as she probably thought him to be. Perhaps she’d even apologize. He was older now, more mature. Surely, he could come up with better plans for how to improve Marinette's life, help her succeed, and prove the purity of his intentions and sincerity of his character.

He did also kind of owe her for breaking her heart. Maybe this was a chance to atone for that as well.

Adrien shook his head and rolled over in his bed. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t care for someone who tossed him aside without even letting him explain. He shouldn’t help anyone who wouldn’t even listen to him or give him the benefit of the doubt.

He had been her friend. She had claimed to be in love with him. Why then was a simple mistake big enough for her to dismiss years of friendship and kick him out of her life? Why should he even think about doing anything nice for such a person, even if only to prove himself right?

Because she helped you just a few hours ago despite hating you.

Adrien groaned. Damn conscience! He still shouldn’t! She did it for the sake of her job, not because she cared for him.

She still helped you when you needed help. She isn’t a lost cause yet. There's still good in her.

Adrien pressed his lips together. He wouldn’t! Not after the way she treated him.

Weren’t you the one to deliver the first blow, though?

Adrien sat up, running his hands through his hair. Why was he such a pushover? Why couldn’t he be more like his father when it came to things like these? Why was he already thinking of the ways he could help Marinette?

Because you aren’t your father, and you still care.

“Okay, fine. I’ll help her.” He threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “Just leave me alone. I need to sleep.”

Settling back into his bed, Adrien closed his eyes and hoped for a few peaceful hours of slumber. Instead, his head buzzed with ideas crazy enough to make him chuckle one moment and bemoan his existence the next. By the time the morning rolled in, there were only two things that Adrien was certain of:

First, Gabriel would have to go. His father had built that company on his employees’ tears and suffering. It wasn’t worth saving, even if Adrien thought he figured out how to do that. It might be a petty, personal revenge move, but Adrien couldn’t find it in himself to care. It would be the right thing to do. Most of its employees had already handed in their resignation letters, anyway.

Second, there was only one way for Marinette to make it in this industry now: find a position in a different company. With her talent, it shouldn't be a problem. He just had to play his cards right and find her a company that would appreciate her more than his father ever did—showing her in the process what a grave mistake she made all those years back when she had cast him aside so cruelly.

Next >

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfiction #marichat #adrienette #enemies to lovers #angst with a happy end #the other you #myart #my art

[kylorengarbagedump]

Little Bird: Chapter 37

Read on AO3. Part 36 here. Part 38 here.

Summary: There are only so many ways you can deliver news.

Words: 2700

Warnings: dystopia

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: I really didn't think I'd get a chapter out today, but I did, so yay!? Sorry it's a bit short (I remember when 2000 words was normal for me!), but I must be on my bullshit, as always.

Thank you very much to everyone who reached out. I had a shitty week this week, and I anticipate things in the next few weeks will not be super great. If there is a week where an update is missed, I hope you can understand.

I love y'all very much, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! <3

Beyond the sheet, the doctor’s shadow worked in silence, collecting instruments to soon be used to pry and expose your pomegranate flesh. Your monthly exam would never feel routine--prior to the collapse of society, they’d already been unpleasant. But now, separated from the provider by gossamer cloth, scrutinized in anonymity while metal objects cracked you wide, they crushed you in revulsion. The doctor whirled on his stool between your legs, air whispering over your bare skin. You swallowed.

A squeaking, clacking, and the cold metal of the speculum parted your labia and pierced your entrance. You held your breath, willing away the tears that pricked your sight--you’d always cried at this part, even before it became obligatory--drifting to your mind until he was finished. 

Kylo Ren had been gone for 18 days, and in his absence, Gilead had drawn from your veins, a vampire of systemic proportions bleeding you not of life, but of the will to live itself. Without his presence, his power, his capability to extract you from bondage, you’d sunk into it like a tarpit, thick sticky ooze edging ever-closer to your throat. Sutures now removed, antibiotics completed, your days consisted of waking, walking, waiting, and, more than once, weeping, before wishing yourself into a witless slumber. Not that you were surprised. After all, before you’d fucked him in secrecy the first time, you’d asked yourself, what was life without living? 

As it turned out: pretty fucking awful. 

Pain lit up your spine when the doctor dug at your cervix for a swab--you winced, and the exam room door opened.

“Hey, we’re running behind, you do you want me to grab the next one, or--”

“No, no,” your doctor replied. “I’m almost done with this one. Did you get the urinalysis back?”

“Uh, no, sorry, I haven’t checked. I can go do it now.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Oh, hey.” Then he swiveled away--leaving you gaping, a red tunnel open for observation. “Did you hear what the director said this morning?”

The other man hummed in thought. “Something about Commander Pryde. I didn’t really care.”

You stared into the ceiling, hands folded over your stomach, tears stinging again while your thighs began to tremble. Privacy and respect hadn’t been afforded to you in three years; you had long been designated a womb buried in a hunk of meat. But something about having your cervix on display like the Hope Diamond was particularly nauseating. Your stomach groaned in humiliation.

“Yeah. Anyone who’s even spoken with Pryde in the last month is getting rounded up.”

Breath stalled. There was no way the doctor knew who you were--the sheet separating you ensured that. Dread iced over your chest.

“Shit,” the other man replied. “Really? Damn.” A pause, clanging of instruments. “Just questioning, right?”

“For now.” The doctor grumbled. “I just had the tenaculum. What the hell?”

“Isn’t it right over there?”

“Oh, right, yeah.” Wheels squeaked across the floor. “Anyway, it’s just a new round of Ren’s bullshit.” He sighed, scooching between your legs again. Something sharp and cold pinched you--you bit your lip. “Dissenters this, threats to Gilead that. I wouldn’t worry about it. Unless--”

A snort. “I hate the both of ‘em.” The man sighed. “You’d think that fixing the birthrate should be their top priority, the way things are going.” 

The doctor grumbled, and something pinched you like talons, shooting pain up your spine. “Yeah. Well. If Ren has his way, half the people in this country are gonna end up dead.”

Your heart was tumbling into a canyon. In the time without him, your belief in your Commander’s defection had dimmed. You’d believed initially that his motivation for Pryde’s capture was revenge--something undesirable, but still understandable--but the longer his campaign went on, the more you realized that there would be nothing that would convince him to release his stranglehold on his position. A gnawing despair within you whispered that whatever Kylo Ren felt for you, he felt it one hundredfold for power and control; convincing him to leave it behind would not only be improbable, but impossible. Yet, as you considered betraying what little affection he might have, sorrow shredded you. The thought of his capture, trial, possible execution--

More tears. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him not here, of being torn from him, of his existence in the past tense. And you also couldn’t sacrifice your freedom for his sins. 

The release of the speculum tugged you back to the exam, and you sniffled, clearing your throat. You’d missed the rest of the conversation.

“Whatever happens, at least we won’t be out of a job. They’ll always need someone to make sure the breeding stock is healthy.” A pause, as if to acknowledge that, yes, you were still in the room. “No offense, of course.”

Bile burned your tongue. You said nothing. 

“Shit, that reminds me,” said the other man. “I’ll go check the urinalysis.”

“Thanks.” 

The door shut. Without warning, latex fingers pushed inside of you, another hand pressing down on your belly. The inspection went on for seconds longer than you thought it should, his fingers curling, as if he was languishing there, reveling in the sensation of feeling your uterus. For a blink, every thought surrounding your Commander’s desertion of Gilead fled your mind, consumed by a venomous desire that he might catch this doctor in the act and crack his skull on the pearly tile, spray his blood, stain the grout. And then the intrusion was over, and your fury dissipated, the ache for retribution hollowing in your heart. 

It wouldn’t have mattered, really, if he had been standing in the room when it had happened--the doctor was no anomaly, but a functioning cog in Kylo Ren’s machine. As long as you both remained in clutches of his own creation, he would spend eternity defending you from its design. Even if you could be an exception, other women would suffer in forced silence. And even if he could mould it to your liking, it would still mean he preferred you to exist in subjugation instead of liberation.

Hope had been a security blanket almost three weeks ago, thick and warm around your shoulders while he’d bathed you with gentle hands. Now it clung in tatters to your ribs, the tiny scraps fluttering like tissue with every gust of reality.

The door opened again. 

“Hey,” the man said. “Got the results.”

A snap of rubber as the doctor removed his gloves. “And?”

“Look for yourself.”

Shuffling paper stifled the sad knock of your pulse in your ears. Perhaps you knew, and had always known, that Kylo might never come to agree with your perspective. You just frequently forgot to acknowledge that it would mean letting him go. Forever. 

“Hey! Okay!” A warm palm slapped your thigh, and you squeaked. “We got another one!”

When no one responded, you realized he had been speaking to you. About a result. A urinalysis. Another one...

You couldn’t speak. Or breathe. Oh--

“You’re pregnant!” 

Like a geyser, it burst from you--your sorrow, your fear, your disgust, your absolute joy--and poured in rivers down your cheeks, your hands clapping over your face. There was no one coherent thought that could be plucked from your mind, just a constant tornado of horrific exhilaration, a celebratory mourning that within you, a tangible testament to you and your Commander’s connection beat and pulsed and flourished with life, growing veins like vines and limbs like wings. 

His child--your child--a physical entity you could nourish in the wake of his reluctance, an unalterable legacy inside of your womb, one that you, if you were to be denied all else, could adore. Your child, but also his child, descendant to a despondent devil, progeny to a preserver of your own imprisonment. A child that, if born into the realm of its father’s regency, would never know normality, or maybe even you--at all. A heaving sob cracked through, and you shivered, trembling with terrified bliss.

The doctor slapped your thigh again. “Don’t stress!” he said. “According to the chart here, you’re about six weeks along. There’s still a chance for disruption. So I’d stay relaxed, all right?” 

Swallowing, you creaked out a noise of assent. There wasn’t a word you could bear to say. 

After the doctor left, you slipped back into your red dress and wings--despite Kylo’s words weeks earlier, you had been provided no other options after he’d left, and you suspected he’d meant for you to only be out of uniform in his presence, regardless. You were escorted by an armed nurse out of the clinic, where a Knight--still masked, no cloak, just in tactical gear--was waiting by the black SUV you’d seen a few of them in before. Averting your gaze, you climbed into the back and buckled in. The vehicle started, you coasted through the parking lot, and onto the road.

For the first time in several days, the sun was out--though it would need more than an afternoon to evaporate the muggy air that had accumulated in its absence. You gazed into the stark, cloudless sky, placing your hands on your belly, as if you could commune with the little being inside of you, know it before it knew you. A question, awful and exciting, lingered in your mind  as you imagined telling Kylo the news, but no answer revealed itself. You replayed the scenario over and over again, practicing it on your tongue--I’m pregnant--digging deep for his reaction. But it was useless, as initially unknowable as anything else about him. Anxiety constricted your heart, a dam about to crumble behind your eyes.

The Knight turned a corner, and you jostled in the backseat. There couldn’t have been much intimacy between them all. But still.

“How do you think the Commander would respond…” You swallowed again--hesitation kept wadding in your throat. “How do you think he’d respond to a pregnancy?”

Long, sweltering seconds ticked by without a word. Balling your hands in your lap, your palms slipped, heartbeat thumped in your clasped thumbs. You’d never heard a Knight say a word, before--you weren’t sure why you were expecting one to answer you. Lava licked at your neck, dripping down your spine, your teeth tearing at your cheeks. 

“Whatever it is,” the Knight said, shattering expectation, “anything in comparison will look like apathy.”

A rush of interminable origin raced your flesh, flushing hot in your blood. That was about as accurate as you could expect. And unsatisfying as you could predict.

When you arrived at home and stepped out of the vehicle, another realization crested over you. Johana. Though your relationship had settled into an uneasy truce since the day the Commander had left, the words she spared you had been few and far between. You knew that your pregnancy was possibly her only dream, but combined with the uncharted territory of her husband’s intentions, you worried it would become her nightmare. 

At the same time, perhaps these worries were unfounded--the threats Kylo would face by disrupting his Wife’s right to your child might be too great for him to risk his power. His concessions had been minor and in relative secrecy, affecting only his relationship with you--everything else had the secondary benefit of securing his reign. He’d said plenty, but how much had he meant? After overhearing the discussion in the exam room, you were fairly certain that if made to choose between Gilead and you, you’d lose.

You followed the Knight into the house, relieved to cross into central air. Taking a few slow steps, you drew a deep breath.

“Ms. Johana!” You paused, listening for a response. You heard none. “Ms. Johana?”

She wasn’t in the house--that meant she was likely out in the yard. In the heat. Sighing, you trudged through the halls through the back door, squinting as light smacked your face. In the weeks since Kylo’s departure, the garden had been cleared and mostly restored at Johana’s behest--the grass gleamed gold, summer flowers replanted in over-saturated swirls of color. You hopped over the stones, turning the words on your tongue, hoping to make them real in your mouth.

I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant. I’m--

“Ofkylo.”

You stalled, recognizing the moniker as yours, resentful of its familiarity to your ears. Beyond one of the hedges was Johana, prying open a birdfeeder. Heat--though whether it was from the sun or your fear, you didn’t know--sizzled the nape of your neck. You steeled your jaw, grabbing your skirts and tromping through the trimmed lawn in her direction.

“What are you doing out here?” There was a bag of mixed seed at her feet, her sleeves pushed up to her elbows as she wiped the feeder clean with a rag. “I thought you just left for your exam.”

“I did. I’m back,” you said. “I was, um. Looking for you.”

“Oh.” She flipped the top in her little hands, scrubbing it clean, too. “Well, that’s fine. What’s going on? They didn’t find out about the gunshot, right?”

You shook your head. “Oh, no no. That’s fine.”

“Good,” she said. “I’m tired of lying for your benefit. The antibiotics weren’t--”

“I know, Ms. Johana,” you sighed. “So…” The words were so simple, but so difficult to say. “The exam went well.”

She nodded, digging into the seed, scooping a helping. “Uh-huh.”

There was nothing that would make this any less nerve-wracking. You inflated your chest, and let it go. “I’m pregnant.”

Johana stopped, like she’d been shot herself, staring into the ground. The seed fell from her palms and spilled over her shoes. She rose, gaze drifting from your feet, to your hands, to your face, her chin shaking. A smile was threatening to explode across her lips.

“Wait.” She exhaled. “Really?”

Wagging your arms in admission, you nodded. “Yup.”

A human springtrap, she squealed, launching into you and wrapping you in a tight, bony hug. You wheezed from her strength--she squeezed you, pinning your limbs to your sides as she wriggled you like a toy. 

“Yes!” She jumped up and down, still holding you. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Yes,” you repeated. “It’s, um, it’s true!”

Johana released you, erupting with elation. “This is amazing!” she said. “Lord, I’m going to have to go see everyone. Yes, we’ll have to have a party.” She clapped her hands and hugged you again. “Can you let the Marthas know to clean this up? I have to get going.” A playful, devious smirk twisted her mouth as she skipped into the house, congratulating herself. “Oh, they’re going to be so jealous! I’m pregnant!”

You stood, staring down at your belly. It wasn’t obvious, yet--but it wouldn’t be long. The thought of Johana preening, presiding over your stomach like it was her work paralyzed your heart. Had it been any other Commander, any other household, you might have even been relieved to incubate your ticket out of the Colonies, but now, you felt only panic. You didn’t want to give this baby up to her--a desire you never would have anticipated.

But then, none of this had been anything you had the ability to anticipate. A Handmaid was not supposed fuck her Commander outside of the Ceremony, or kiss him, or wake up in his embrace. A Handmaid was not supposed to yearn for her Commander, feel comfort from his  voice, find companionship in his presence, or feel grateful for his brutality and strength. A Handmaid was not supposed to plan her Commander’s downfall, or plan his escape, and especially not plan his future with her in it.

A Handmaid was not supposed to fall in love with her Commander. But you were a Handmaid. And it was too late.

You left the empty birdfeeder and the bag of seed, slinking up the stairs, creeping back to your room. Throat, chest, face tight, you laid in bed, palms planted on your stomach, and breathed. Shutting your eyes, you hoped for the hundred-thousandth time in three years you would wake up in a different world--a world where the father of your child was not your legal owner, a world where another woman was not claiming it as hers, a world where you opened your eyes and you were not alone, and you were free, and you were truly, deservedly loved.

If you fell asleep, you didn’t know--the next thing you recalled was the familiar rumble of the Audi’s engine, dying as it rolled into the driveway.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo trash #little bird #handmaid au #fanfiction problems #idk I got feelings

[katefiction]

The Cambridge Cub

by katefiction (Maria) / 2012

A bright light burned through her eyelids. A large thud followed, and then a loud slam. At least it sounded loud to Kate.

Four am and William was getting up for his early shift.

‘William’ Kate croaked. ‘Turn the light off!’ She heard footsteps approaching.

‘How am I supposed to see in the dark?’ he said, flicking the switch on the lamp.

‘Says the search and rescue pilot who rescues people in the middle of the night… when it’s dark!’ she grumbled, pulling the cover over her head.

Kate heard his footsteps retreat and then a bang.

‘Shit!’ William yelled ‘this is why I need the bloody light on!’

‘Are you ok?’ she called to him, not knowing if or where he’d gone. She soon heard the shower running and willed herself to go back to sleep. She tossed and turned for two minutes, realising she may have felt a little guilty about making Will injure himself.

Dragging herself out of bed, she trudged down the stairs and into the kitchen, flinching at the cold tiles on her bare feet. In the space of thirty seconds, she had pulled out the coffee pot, two peices of bread, some eggs and bacon from the fridge and set to work making William a good, hearty breakfast to start his day. The smell of the cooking hit William as soon as he left the bathroom. He dressed quickly and trotted down the stairs two at a time, finding Kate plating up his breakfast. ‘Why aren’t you still in bed?’, he asked, stroking her arm. ‘I felt guilty that I made you hurt yourself’, she said, sticking out her bottom lip. William bit into a peice of toast. ‘Just a stubbed toe. I’ll survive’, he teased. ‘Even so’, she said, nuzzling her face into William’s chest. She felt her stomach flip. She was so glad he could still give her butterflies, she thought. Then it flipped again. And the next time, the flip was a churn and those butterflies seemed to be flying up her throat. She pushed William back, spun around, and threw up into the sink. ‘Whoa’ William said, dropping his toast onto the counter. Kate was hunched over the sink. ‘Are you ok?’

‘Fine’ she said, standing up straight. ‘That was so weird, I feel totally fine now.’ ‘Go to bed’, William said, picking up his breakfast as Kate cleared the sink. ‘Are you not going to eat that?’ she said, she said eying the food. ‘I’m suddenly not that hungry anymore’, William replied as he tipped the contents into the bin.

*** Twelve hours later and William burst through the door, energetic as always after a day on the base. Kate was sat at the kitchen table, reading some notes. ‘Hi’, he said, planting a kiss on her lips, ‘how are you feeling?’ ‘Better’, she shrugged unconvincingly. She had bags under her eyes and her hair was piled messily at the top of her head. ‘What did you do today? You look exhausted!’ he asked. ‘Took Lupo for a walk, did the shopping and read these notes for the hospital visit tomorrow’. Kate held up her notes on St Ormond’s Hospital, where she had an engagement the next day. ‘That seems to have taken all my energy’, she sighed, putting her head in her hands. ‘Plus you were sick this morning’, Will said, a thought forming in his head. ‘And my period is late, which only ever happens when I’m stressed’ she said from behind her hands. ‘Or….’ Will said, a light going off. ‘Or…?’ she mimicked, placing her hands on the table. They both looked down at Kate’s stomach. There was a long silence until William jumped up suddenly, sending his chair flying backwards. ‘We need to get a test’ he said abruptly, pacing the kitchen. ‘What now?!- William’ she said, standing up and placing a steady hand on his arm. ‘We can’t just waltz into Waitrose and buy a pregnancy test.’ William’s face flushed with excitement as she said the word out loud. ‘I’m in London tomorrrow, I’ll try to get an appointment with Doctor Jenkins.’ Dr. Jenkins was their apothocary and was renound for his deiscretion with the royal family. ‘But I want to be there’ Will said sadly. ‘It’s either that or we wait until you have a day off work’, Kate suggested. William considered the options. His next day off was next week. He couldn’t wait that long. ‘You’ll call me right away, ok? Either way.’ ‘William I am not telling you that over the phone!’ Will looked wounded. ‘I’ll be back in the evening. I want to see your face if…well you know’, she said with a small smile. William nodded, knowing as usual that Kate was right. ‘Ok, tomorrow then.’ *** ‘Your Royal Highness, please come in’ Dr. Jenkins said as Kate walked back into his office hesitantly. ‘I told you it wouldn’t be a long wait, didn’t I?’ Kate had only been waiting fifteen minutes for her results, but it had felt like fifteen hours to her. Dr. Jenkins sat down behind his desk, her results in front of him. His face gave nothing away. Kate took a deep breath and sat down opposite him. *** Kate paused at the front door. It had been a tough drive back to Angelsey trying to decide how to tell William the result. Slowly, she unlocked the door and stepped inside, expecting silence and her husband to greet her. ‘GOOOAAAAALLLLL!!!!!’ Four voices boomed from the living room. She made her way through and found William and three of his fellow pilots from the base spread across the living room, boxes of pizza and beer cans amongst them. William sprang up the moment he saw her. ‘Hello’, he said rushing towards her, his eyes were unreadable. ‘The guys are over to watch the football, seeing as I was all alone tonight.’ He put his arm around her shoulder, which Kate promptly shrugged off. ‘Hope it’s ok Kate’ Matt, one of the pilots said, perched on the edge of the sofa. ‘Only Will said he had no-one to cook for him tonight so we thought we’d help him out.’ He held up a slice of pizza. ‘Of course, it’s fine’ she said, putting on her brightest fake smile. ‘How was your day?’ Will sensed her annoyance and led her to the kitchen. ‘Why would you invite them here tonight?!’ she whispered furiously as soon as they were out of earshot of their visitors. She ignored William’s question. ‘I’m sorry’ he whispered back. ‘I just mentioned you weren’t here tonight…and the game was on…they kind of just invited themselves’ he said, desperately trying to make her understand. ‘You could have just made something up, and said you were busy’ she hissed. ‘You know I can’t lie under pressure’, he pleaded, taking her hand. ‘Now please, just tell me what happened.’ ‘Now?!’ With them in there?’ she said tilting her head to the living room, where the boys were yelling at the tv. ‘I can’t wait any longer – please Kate’, he begged. Kate couldn’t punish him for this. Not now, not on this day. He face broke into a wide grin that seemed to reach her eyes. She gave William a quick nod. ‘Yes?’ William whispered.   She nodded again. ‘YES!’ he shouted at full volume now. ‘Ssh!’ she said, holding her finger to his lips, trying to contain her own excitement at the same time. William jumped up and down on the spot, pumping his arm in the air. Kate tried to stifle her laughter as they silently celebrated. William pulled Kate into a tight hug, leant down and said close to her ear, ‘I can’t believe it.’ Kate stretched up and kissed his flushed, red cheek. ‘We’re having a baby.’

Ch. 2

‘You can see it, I’m sure you can see it.’

‘For the fifteenth time, these’s nothing there!’

‘It’s definitely there’. Kate smoothed her top down over her stomach, convinced that there was a bump forming under it.

‘Besides, at eight weeks, the baby is no bigger than a kidney bean’, William read from his phone, lounging on the bed.

‘Oh for God’s sake William, will you give that website a rest?!’, she said grabbing his iPhone and throwing it across the bed. He had been quoting from a pregnancy website since the day they found out about the baby. His daily updates were endearing at first, but were beginning to grate.

Kate picked up her bag, satisfied that this was the most bump-concealing top she owned. They were due to visit Kate’s family for the first time since they found out about the baby. They had decided to keep it a secret for now, wanting to savour the excitement for themselves before the world found out.

Settled in the car, they practiced for awkward questions.

‘Right Catherine’, Will said, putting on a high pitched voice, apparently and immitation of Carole.  ‘Why aren’t you drinking?’

‘Well…mum. I’m driving home because Will’s too tired’, she said raising an eyebrow.

‘Good’, he replied in his normal voice, before doing his best Carole impression once again, ‘Catherine dear, help me pick up this heavy box, won’t you?’

‘Must you do that voice?’

‘Answer the question’, he said, laughing.

‘Well mother, I hurt my wrist playing tennis, I can’t pick up anything heavy.’

‘Perfect, but try not to be so robotic’, he said taking her hand. He could sense her nerves. Carole knew Kate better than most, but they were determined not to let anything slip.

As soon as the door to the family home opened, Carole pulled Kate into a hug, prompting Kate to push away slightly, all too concious that Carole might be able to feel her stomach. Carole didn’t seem to notice and followed with a hug for William and ushered them inside the house.

‘Relax’ William urged Kate when Carole was out of earshot, giving her a reassuring pat on the back.  

Obligatory hugs and hellos, as well as a home cooked meal, over, they settled into the living room.

‘Kate, I’m going to book the flights for the skiing trip’ Pippa said, sitting next to her sister on the couch. ‘Can you give me your final dates?’

‘What?’ Kate said.

‘You know? Our yearly ski trip? I told you to confirm when you’re free so I can book them?’, she replied, poking Kate in the head.

‘Right, the ski trip…in Febuary?’

‘Yes…what is wrong with you?’ Pippa said, shaking her head at Kate’s apparant forgetfulness.

‘I can’t, I mean, we can’t go.’ In Febuary, Kate would be seven months pregnant, and skiing wasn’t exactly a pregnant woman’s pursuit.

‘Why not?’ Carole quizzed.

Kate looked at William, her mind racing to find an answer.

‘Yes why?’ Pippa added. ‘You said you’d checked your diary weeks ago.’

‘I, urm, it’s -‘

’ – it’s my fault’. William interjected. ‘I booked a surprise holiday for Kate. I’ really sorry, I forgot all about the skiing.1

‘Oh don’t be silly!’ Carole said relaxing, ‘where are you going?’

‘France’

‘Italy’

They spoke at the same time. ‘France then Italy’ Will said quickly as Kate turned a deep shade of crimson.

‘Another time then?’ Pippa said.

‘Of course’ Kate replied, thinking it would be a long time before she would ski again.

                                              ***

‘Shit that was close!’ Will said as they drove away from the house that evening.

‘Was I really obvious?’ Kate asked, panicking.

‘You were fine…just relax. You know research shows that stress isn’t good for the baby.’

‘Seriously, I am taking that phone off you!’ she said scowling, before turning away from him and smiling.

                                             ***

The following day and it was over to Clarence House for lunch with William’s family. Charles and Camilla greeted them, however Harry was nowhere to be seen.

‘Where’s Harry?’ Will asked.

‘He’s been taken ill’, Charles replied, seeming unconvinced.

‘Hangover, then.’ William said to Camilla and Kate from the corner of his mouth, prompting a giggle from them both.

‘Shall we eat?!’ Camilla said, leading them to the dining room, where a Sunday roast was ready for them. They dug in, Kate particularly ravenous since becoming pregnant.

Near the end of the meal came the cheese course and Kate picked up an enticing piece of brie. William glard at her across the table, but she was deep in conversation with Camilla.

‘Will and I are really looking forward to seeing Asia, we -’ She suddenly felt a light kick under the table, but continued ‘-we’re not so sure about the weather though.’ Another kick followed. She turned to look at William, who shot her, then the brie a hard look.

Kate furrowed her brow, not understanding, and reached for the brie from her plate. William’s hand swept across the plate, sending it flying to the floor.

‘William!’ Kate exclaimed, followed by an ‘oh!’ from Camilla and Charles.

‘Oops!’, he said kneeling to the floor, trying to clear the mess from the carpet. ‘There was a fly on the food – I aimed a little low’, he said holding his hands up. Kate bent down to help.

‘There’s plenty more’ Charles said, smiling at Kate.

‘No!…she can’t, I mean won’t eat it�� Will said hurriedly. Kate opened her mouth to protest, but William cut her off before she started ‘it’s a weird fly complex, isn’t it Kate? She’s a bit OCD bless her.’

Camilla and Charles looked puzzled, but simply nodded, thinking maybe they had more to learn about Kate as they went off to find someone to clean the stain on the carpet.

‘What was that?!’ Kate said as soon as they left the room.

‘You’re not allowed brie.’

‘Says who?’ she said, guessing the answer.

‘Well it was on the website, it said it was best to avoid it.’ Will said sheepishly, predicting a telling-off.

‘Oh Will’ she said shaking her head. ‘And YOU told ME to relax!’

‘I just want to be safe’ he replied.

‘Luckily for you, we got away with it- this time!’ she said, vowing to herself that she would delete that website from Will’s bookmarks in the morning.

                                        ***

That evening, Will and Kate were relaxing at their cottage at Kensington Palace, discussing how lucky they’d been to keep the baby a secret this weekend, when there was a knock at the door.

A slightly dishevelled Harry greeted them when Will opened the door.

‘Can I have some dinner?’ Harry said immediately.

‘Come in’ Will sighed and pointed him in the direction of the kitchen, where there were leftovers from the roast lunch.

‘Hi Kate’ Harry called as he sped into the kitchen. ‘What?’ he said at William’s unimpressed expression. ‘Kate said I could come over for dinner whenever I wanted!’

‘You’ll regret that’ Will said to Kate.

Harry settled on the couch with his warmed up meal. ‘Can I borrow your phone?’ He said to his brother with a mouthful of food. ‘No battery in mine.’

Will passed him the phone, and started flicking through the tv channels.

‘Urm’ Harry said, staring at the phone a few seconds later.

‘You haven’t broken it have you?’ Will said.

Harry turned the phone around. Glaring from the screen was the pregnancy website.

‘Oh crap’ Kate said quietly.

Will immediately started to think of his third excuse of the weekend, but a nudge from Kate and Harry’s face him told him otherwise. He looked over to Kate and she gave him a reassuring smile.

‘Yeh…well, we’re…you’re gonna be an uncle’ he said finally.

‘Shit!’ Harry said beaming. He leapt to his feet and grabbed Will into a hug.

Kate giggled from the sofa, until Harry said ‘and you, sis! Congratulations!’ and gave her a warm embrace.

‘So does anyone else know?!’ he said, grinning from ear to ear.

‘Not yet’ Will replied. ‘And we want to keep it that way.’

‘My lips are sealed.’

‘Right’ Kate said. ‘Harry’s not the one we should be worried about.’ She grabbed the iPhone ‘This needs to go!’

—-

I didn’t finish the rest of this series, here was the plan:

Ch. 3. They see the baby for the first time on a scan. This freaks William out and he doesn’t want to be intimate with Kate. They argue because Kate feels unwanted, but they make up in a romantic sex scene.

Ch. 4. They tell the world about the baby.

Ch. 5. They argue about baby names.

Ch. 6. Didn’t plan this chapter.

Ch. 7. While William is away on an engagement, Kate collapses and is taken into hospital.

Ch. 8. Kate is put on bed rest, and is told not to work. She refuses and does an engagement anyway, against William’s wishes. Eventually they announce that she will be put on bed rest.

Ch. 9. The baby is born in hospital. It is a boy.

#katefiction #royal fanfiction #cambridge fanfiction #kate middleton

[vegetacide]

Whump●tober - Explosion

Veg-notables:   For whumptober. This one kind wrote itself and I wrote it a$$ backwards starting with the end and filling in the rest.   It ended up longer than I expected so I apologize in advance for the word spewage - The boys wanted to banter so I let ‘em. 

As always,  thanks to @gumnut-logic for her help hashing out the plot. 

Obligatory whumptober stuff: @whumptober2019 @la-vie-en-whump

Blanket warning:   Its gonna get hot. 

Characters:  Virgil,  Alan, Scott and Johnny. 

Whumptober - TaG universe

2. Explosion

Enjoy...

oOo

“Thunderbird Two to command”

“Go ahead, V. What’s your status?”

“Hey, we’re almost done on the South end of the factory but it’s slow going. The smoke and the super structure of this place is screwing with our scans so we’re having to back track.”

“I’ll see if there’s anything John can do on his end to clear it up. Find anything?”

Virgil shook his head before he realized that Scott couldn’t see him. “It’s what I haven’t found that disturbing me. What the hell happened to the fire suppression system?”

“Not sure. Both John and the GDF confirmed this facility was registered as meeting requirements on its last inspection.  It’s a question I am going to be posing to the CEO once he’s done showboating for the media hounds.” 

“Well, wait for me.  I would love to hear the answer.”

He got a chuckle from the other end of the open comm. “I’ll see what I can do.  Get back at it and check in with me in five.. Or if you find anything.”

“Will do.”  The comm channel clicked off and Virgil turned as his youngest brother appeared in the doorway at his back with a tote bag full of suppression grenades.

They were making their way through what was left of a chemical manufacturing plant that had seen better days.  They’d received a request for assistance in the early hours of the morning as flames has shot some fifty feet above the roof line. The noxious fumes of the burning cocktail of who knew what  that wafted out had been pushed by a North Eastern to the neighbouring township.  Forcing the local services to call for the immediate evacuation of the 8, 962 residents.  

During the course of the evacuation Scott had been roped in to help shuttle while Virigl and Alan had stayed behind to help with containment.  For the most part the fire out due to their specialized gear and a fire retardant foam that Brains had concocted for just this scenario.  

Now though they had to pick their way through the smoldering remains to search for survivors who could be holed up in any of the emergency fire shelters that were scattered around the confusing maze of corridors that made up the complex.  

The installation of a mobile ventilation system was doing it best to clear out the contaminants and particulates polluting the air but the smoke was still hung heavy over the hulking, burnt out husk of a factory which meant that Virgil and Alan had to do the majority of the foot work themselves. 

The place had to be cleared back to the GDF before they would risk the lives of any of the local crews on clean up.    

“How’s are inventory?”  He asked by way of greeting and turned to focus on the holographic schematics of the building that were hovering above his wrist unit. 

“Depleting but we should have enough.”  Alan dropped the bag at his brother’s feet and started redistributing the spherical concussion bombs  into Virgil’s bag.  “We’ll have to start using these sparingly.” 

Virgil rubbed a hand over his sooty visor, “Well looks like the fire is contained in this section. Should just be a matter of snuffing out hot spots to prevent flare up from here on out.  

Alan nodded in understanding and pushed up to his feet. His eyebrow cocked when he noticed a look passed over Virgil’s face. He stepped closer in inquiry. “You get something?”

Virgil’s brows furrowed in concentration. “Not sure,  think I saw a blip over in the North East corner, back by the biochem labs.”

“We went through there though.”  His brother stated. “The area was clear.”

“We must have missed something.”  Grabbing his bag off the floor, he flung it over his shoulder.  “Better go back and check it out again. This place had a lot of staff and the numbers haven’t come in from the department supervisors yet.  We can’t be sure everyone got out.”  

Alan managed to just barely suppress a pout and Virgil bumped his shoulder brotherly as he stepped around him.  “Come on, Rocket Boy. Sooner we get this done the sooner you will be back home killing Zombies and scarfing down veggie sticks.” 

Virgil grinned as his brother grumbled out.  “It’s Rocket Man, thank you very much.”  

“Hey Squirt, when you can see over the dash of Two I���ll start referring to you as ‘Man’.. Until then,  your stuck.”  He dodges a swat from his baby brother.  Friendly ribbing aside they had a job to do but it helped relieve some of the stress. 

Back on task, they headed out back down the blackened corridor, ducking under hanging ceiling lights and stepped over fallen ceiling tiles and other assorted debris.  

The track back across the rat’s maze of hallways and cross corridors, through disengaged mag-locked doors and over a rather rickety catwalk that spanned  ash covered vats; their tops having blown off during the blaze, took far longer than Virgil would have liked.   

He knew they were running low on time with the GDF circling outside looking for answers and the local authorities eager to start their investigation into the cause of the fire Virgil needed to find a way to pick up their pace.  

Stopping to orient himself, Virgil check his wrist comm again. “This place is way too complicated for a private sector supplier.”   He said this offhandedly and wasn’t expecting a response back in kind from the blonde at his six.  He got one anyways. 

“Maybe it’s a top secret government think tank where they brew up all sorts of crazy potions for world domination.”

Virgil snorted and nodded off to the left. “Down here.” Flicking on his shoulder mount, the high powered beam lit up the windowless corridor.  “Ya right. Do you honestly think the Black Suits would let us in here if it were. Even with our affiliations with the GDF we would be lucky to get within ten miles of this place.”

“Cover up.”  Alan tossed out with a shrug. “Who really knows how these government spook organizations work.”

Virgil shook his head and turned down a short set of stairs and stopped abruptly at a large set of blast doors.  “You spend way too much time surfing the conspiracy sites.” 

“Everyone needs a hobby.” 

Rolling his eyes, he tapped his comm line open. “Scott, we got something.”  

“10-4.  Talk to me ”  

Virgil knew his brother was following their progress from his ‘bird along with John floating around up in space.  “Looks like another fire proof room but I can’t find it on the schematics.”  

John’s voice cut in with no preamble. “Those were the ones that were provided to the local planning board with the factories last retrofit.  They should be up to date.” 

“Well, from where I am standing,”  Virgil rapped a padded knuckle on the heavy door, “They are inaccurate and I can’t get a read on what’s on the other side. ”  

“One moment,”  John sounded a bit peeved.  Virgil knew he hated inaccuracy and the ineptitude of lazy people not doing their jobs, making stupid mistake drove him bat shit crazy. 

Virgil inspected the door and the surrounding area and pointed back down the corridor.   “Check around the corner and see if there is an electrical closet would ya? Or a service panel?  Door this big is magnetically sealed so a power relay is needed. ”  

“Like it would be on this side of it? Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose?”  Alan asked 

“If it’s not in use it will be powered from out here for maintenance purposes.  Once activated though its self sufficient and it disconnects from the external source for preventative reasons.”  Like opening up to a massive blaze or a toxic chemical spill. 

Alan zipped off around the corner, his comm line active so they could keep in communication with one another as per S.O.P when on site. 

“What do you think is in there?”  Alan’s voice sounded in his ear,  he was still close enough that it echoed a bit with a tiny time delay as it went through their secure network.

Virgil tweaked the volume and went back to inspection the door and the coded palm reader that was a charred mess to the right of it.   “First guess is it’s another fire room but considering its not on spec…who knows.” 

Scott’s voice chimed in,   “I’m done playing taxi.  Last patient has been dropped at the next closest hospital.  I’ll have a word with the CEO and Colonel Casey when I am back on site in ten.. Get us some answers as to what the hell is going on.” 

“Roger that.”    

Alan appeared back at his side.  “Nothing.”  

Virgil frowned at the door and ripped the charred panel from the wall to expose the mass of surprisingly undamaged wires behind it.  “This isn’t adding up..”  

Pulling out a network access key from his baldric,  Virgil started pulling wires.  “Hey Johnny,  I got a hack job for you if your done angrily tearing the local civil servants a new one.”

“Patch me in.”

“Yup, working on it now. “ Stripping a few wires, he tested to see if there was power to them and hooked them up to the small device. “You find the idiot that misfiled those docs?” 

“Not yet,”  Came the disgruntled sign of annoyance.  “Eos is working on it.”  

“Ouch.. that’s gonna hurt.” Virgil could hear the evil glee in the red heads voice and almost felt sorry for the poor bastard that was going to get steam rolled once he was found. 

The small device in his hand flared to life and just as suddenly the door before him hissed as the locking system released. “Wow, that was fast.”

“That wasn’t me.” 

Virgil blinked and locked eyes with Alan.  “Understood,  keep an eye on things for me would ya? We’re going in.”

“Be careful, Thunderbird Two. Picking up weird anomalies from the other side.”

“Roger, stand by.” 

It took both of them to pull the heavy door open, boots finding little purchase on the foam slicked floor.  Braced against the wall with one final heave the mighty steel portal swung up just wide enough for them to pass through one at a time.   Standing in the opening,  Virgil peered into the space beyond, eyes narrowing when a curious distortion caused the air to waver 

Virgil’s eyes widened as what he was seeing registered with the still smoldering remnants in the corridor.  He only had seconds to push Alan out of the way before all hell broke loose. 

The ensuing conflagration of heat knocked the breath from Virgil’s lungs as he was tossed like a rag doll through burning ozone.  The sudden and abrupt stop as his body met wall caused pain to burst across his whole nervous system and left him a whimpering heap on the floor.  

The world grayed out around the edges but one thing kept him just his side of blissful oblivion,  the thought of his little brother.   

By sheer force of will  he commanded his lungs to start working again and with a reserve of energy he didn’t know he had, he lifted his torso off the floor, stars flashing across his retinas.

Coughing,  he dragged himself across the floor ears straining against the buzz of a million bees as he called out for his sibling. His voice hoarse and tinny to his whirring ear drums.  

“Alan!! Thunderbird Two to anyone!”  He was panicking and he knew it wasn’t helping but he had to find his baby brother.  “Alan, god where are you?  Answer me”

The visibility was completely next to none existent as smoke billowed out from whatever the room behind the blast doors had been.   Flames scorching and white hot licked with renewed strength up the previously foamed walls with a growing intensity that he could feel through the protection of his fire gear and sweat trickled down the length of his spine.  He had to get them out of here. 

Oh god, where was his brother?

“Scott?  Scott, I can’t find Allie…”  Padding around on all fours as close to the ground as he could he reached out in every direction. Pushing singed debris and refuse out to the way as he search.

Coughing again, a fine spray of blood peppered across his visor but he wouldn’t give up, he couldn’t.  

The hand that landed suddenly on his shoulder had his heart stuttering to a stop in his throat. The flash of red and that grabbed at his helmet kick started it back over again.

“Allie, oh thank God.”  

“I’m okay but my comms are down. We gotta get out of here.”

Virgil nodded his agreement. Pushing up to a crouch, hell fire raining down around them, he look left and right to try and gauge the best direction to take. He gave his head a shake when the world greyed out around the edges of his vision and shot a hand out to brace himself against his brother’s shoulder.  

“You okay, Virg?”

An odd expression passed over Virgil’s face as time seemed to crawl to a stop. The flames of the fire all around them stilling, the heat fading away and an odd, surreal chill slowly encompassed his body, radiating up his torso and slowly suffusing his limbs. 

His thoughts grew distance as the center of the chill started to thaw with an excruciating burn and he looked down.  What the…?The echo of confusion cut off abruptly as his gloved hand came away dark and wet.

“Oh god. Virgil, hang on..”  Were the last words he heard before Earth reared up and hit him hard. 

oOo

Next part HERE

The Master List of prompts can be found HERE

#whumptober #whumptober2019 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbird fanfic #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #alan tracy #John Tracy #first responders #space bagel #thunderbird two #thunderbird one #thunderbird 3 #thunderbird 5 #no.2 #prompt fic #the prompt made me do it #ouch #explosion #too many tags #omg make it stop

[nautilusopus]

me modding anything over the last week:

#squid grumbles #this is so fucking harrowing i don't need this kind of stress in my life #also *obligatory Gateway jibe here*