#so I suspect I said fuck it because deadline

[vivacia-18]

Been a hot minute since I shared art here, let alone a finished project!

So behold Chibi Fi, a pattern I actually wrote several years ago for a gift exchange. After all this time I finally made one for myself, and updated the pattern to add to my Ravelry store.

#viv18art #loz #skyward sword #fi #poor thing was actually mostly done for a couple of months #but my initial hair instructions were frankly incomprehensible #the first one had needle felted hair in the photos #so I suspect I said fuck it because deadline #it was not actually difficult to design #I just felt like doing other things more at the time lol #ah well she's done now #and looking pretty good if I do say so myself :P #I also want to make a matching chibi ghirahim #but I've got some gift projects to make first

[bejeweledblondie]

Knight In Shining Armor

Captain John Price x F! Royalty Reader

Summary: Y/N is part of the British Royal Family & is kidnapped by terrorists. John Price & Task Force 141 are given the responsibility of rescuing her before the ransom deadline

Warnings: mentions of torture, abuse, kidnapping, anxiety

Captain John Price was ready to kick his feet up & relax for the rest of the weekend. He had already cracked open a beer. With one click of the tv remote he knew his weekend would be anything other than relaxing.

“This just in her royal highness the Duchess of Windsor Y/N L/N has just been ambushed & is considered missing. The young Duchess was leaving a gala when armed men ambushed her vehicle & were able to successfully kidnap her. Her whereabouts are unknown at the moment & London is currently on lockdown near Buckingham Palace.” The news anchor on the television reported. A groan escaped his lips knowing this mission would come across his desk.

“Fuckin hell, “ He cursed to himself & looked up at the ceiling. “Lord I wanted one weekend, one fucking weekend is that too much to ask for?”

Right on cue his phone started to vibrate. Laswell in big letters flashed across his screen.

“Don’t even elaborate where do we need to be?” He asked rubbing his temples.

“Well hello to you too, meet me at headquarters as soon as possible.” She stated. He stood up & stretched before sending a message out to the rest of his team. He walked into his bedroom & pulled out his combat pants, combat thermal, & two pairs of socks. Price got dressed & laced up boots. The thought of the Duchess started to creep into his mind. He couldn’t even imagine what she was experiencing. The absolute fear of being at the mercy of international terrorists has to have terrifying.

Price made his way to his car & started it. He started to drive to the post & when he got to the gate he scanned his ID. The soldier saluted him & the gate arm lifted. He pulled up of the offices & started to walk into the building. Ghost, Gaz, Soap, & Alejandro were already sitting in the briefing room waiting for him. Laswell was already at the front of the room with the screen behind her turned on.

“Ah Captain Price! Good to see you! Sit down so we can start.” Laswell said. “Colonel Vargas & his team will be conducting this operation with us due to the severity of the situation.” Price sat down, & Laswell started her briefing. “So while we don’t know how the Duchess was able to be taken, we were able to pin her location. Seems like our terrorists didn’t do a good job at giving their location. They released a video with a list of their demands, & hefty ransom. It is disturbing I’ll admit. They’ve beaten this poor woman to hell & back already.” Laswell pressed a key on the laptop in front of her & the video started.

There sat the Duchess tied to a chair with smudged mascara & a black eye. She was trying her hardest to stay awake. The once beautiful pink gown she had on was covered in blood & dirt. Pure anger ran through Price’s veins seeing her in that state. Each of the terrorists had black balaclavas on & stood on either side of her.

“To the Royal Family & the United Kingdom, we are taking revenge. One by one each Royal family of each Western nation will start going missing if you do not fulfill our wishes. If you wan to see her again, let alone alive you will fulfill our wishes. The cost of her safe return is 500 million dollars. You have until midnight.” One of the Balaclava clad men demanded. He gripped her chin roughly & she protested at his grip. “You little cunt. You will respect me.” He lifted the hand that held a Glock in it & used the back of the gun to slap her across the face. A loud cracking noise happening & the video paused.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Soap said. “Who are we dealing with?”

“The usual suspects.” Laswell replied. “We pinned their location & we have to act accordingly because it’s very clear their intentions will result in more violence. They’ve taken her to a warehouse in Romania, & we have their governments full permission to go in. So let’s get going, we lift off at 20:00.” She closed the laptop & everyone got up from their respective seats. Everyone started to funnel out of the conference room & started down to the air strip.

There was a heaviness in the air, they knew the weight on their shoulders. Not just the weight of the United Kingdom was on their shoulders but the entire western world. Alejandro’s team already had their gear laid out ready for inspection & he walked off to make sure they had everything.

“Alrighty lads lay out your gear for inspection.” Price shouted. One by one he went through each of their gear & made sure it was ready for use. Thankfully no one was missing anything. Two Blackhawk helicopters sat on the air strip waiting to take them over the border into Romania. 20:00 came faster then they had anticipated & both teams boarded the helicopters.

The usually chatty Task Force 141 sat in silence. They looked around at each other solemnly, & praying that the Duchess would be still alive. Price couldn’t get the image of her being brutalized. The men were familiar with her philanthropic efforts, & they were infuriated someone would go out their way to hurt her. Y/N had spent time overseas in incredibly dangerous countries delivering medicine herself, & showcasing what children in those countries go through. She was a saint in the public eye & overall was a incredibly kind woman.

“We are over the border gentlemen & in Romania. Fifteen minutes away from target.” The pilot had stated. They were all filled with pure adrenaline by this point eager to get on the ground. “Target located gentlemen.” The pilot. “Gods speed.” The warehouse was below them, & the fast ropes dropped. One by one both teams dropped men. Alejandro’s team took the ground & Task Force 141 took the roof. These terrorists clearly weren’t smart enough to plant guards on the roof.

Ghost kicked in the door the lead to the stairs. He threw in a grenade & then started to use the light on his rifle to lead the team in. They walked past bodies of the men hit by the grenade & started all the way down to the loading docks of the warehouse. Price could tell the warehouse hadn’t been used in years. Rust & mold were all over the metal of the building. Once they made it to the bottom of the stairs, they were greeted with the gun fire. Both Ghost & Price easily eliminated those threats.

Price could hear Alejandro’s team outside, the sound of the gun fire echoed through the building. The lights were completely knocked out but they were able to eliminate any & all targets.

“Captain!” Ghost yelled over the radio alerting Price. “Found her.” He ran over to the room were Ghost was. There she was, Y/N Windsor the Duchess of Windsor. Her ballgown was completely destroyed & was covered in wounds. Some deeper than others. She was entirely unconscious, poor thing couldn’t respond to Ghost’s questions. Thankfully she still had a pulse but it was evident she was hanging by a thread. Price picked her up & she was limp. “Ghost we need to get back to the helicopter.” He said. Over the radio Ghost had alerted Alejandro they had located the Duchess. Price held her close to his body, & tried to apply pressure to the more intense wounds. On the helicopter she was able to open her eyes, & saw the Union Jack on Price’s plate carrier. Still in his arms, she weakly lifted her arm up & pointed to the flag.

“Please don’t let me die,” she mustered out.

“Don’t worry darling, I won’t.” He replied. She then passed out again afterwards.

Finally they were able to get on board the helicopter & out of Romania. Once they had landed base on the air strip on base a ambulance was waiting for them. Price & Laswell sat in the back of the ambulance as a liaison for the Royals. Once at the hospital the staff took her & brought her immediately into surgery. Still covered in the Duchesses blood & sweat Price sat there in the waiting room his leg shaking out of anxiety. Laswell rubbed his back gently in an attempt to comfort him.

Eight hours of surgery later, the surgeon exited the operating room with good news. The Duchess was going to make a full recovery. A wave of relief washed over him. The news outlets were updated almost instantly by Buckingham Palace Officials. Price went everyday to the hospital to visit her. Although she was asleep & he still spoke to her. She infiltrated every single thought he had every waking moment. Soap had teased him a little bit about it only to be met with a death stare.

About a week later, she awoke to the sound of a deep British accent talking to her. The same one that had been in her dreams. She awoke to bright lights & the beeping of the heart monitor. Her moved around violently as she tried to take in her surroundings.

“Love, you’re alright you’re in the hospital.” The voice said as a hand started to pet her hair. She looked over & saw a man with full beard. He looked a little bit older than her. His blue eyes were amplified by the florescent hospital lighting. There was just so comforting about his presence. Two nurses came in & started to check on her vitals. She was able to answer as many questions as they threw at her. The mysterious man with the blue eyes still stood beside her. Once the two nurses left she turned to him.

“Who are you?” She asked. Her voice was meek & was cracking.

“Captain John Price your highness.” He replied. “I had helped lead the effort with my team to rescue you.” A flood of memories came back. She remembered the pain, & the blood stained Union Jack flag on his chest.

“I’m a man of my word love,” He replied & grabbed her hand.

“What?” She replied clearly the fog of amnesia still had it’s effect on her.

“I didn’t let you die love.” He replied. “I kept my promise.” His thumb brushed over her knuckles delicately. She gave him a soft smile in return.

“Thank you Captain Price,” she replied. Little did either one of them knew that this rescue would lead to the Royal Wedding of the decade.

#call of duty #ghost call of duty #cod imagines #ghost x y/n #captain price #john price #captain john price #captain price x y/n #captain price x female reader #john price x reader #cod mwf2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod masterlist #captain johnathan price

[tricks-tickles]

merry (late) christmas and a happy new year to @blue-little-angel! trust me to finish this one singular day before the deadline haha, thank you to @squealing-santa for bearing w me. anyway here is your fic! i may have misread your prompt a little and so this is only sigma and nikolai but i hope you’re still happy with it. This is also my first bsd fic so sorry if the timeline/characterisation/vibes are off haha

ANYWAY

word count: 1228

pairing: Lee!Sigma & Ler!Nikolai

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

‘Sigma~!’

He stayed very quiet. Focus on work: read over that paperwork… sign on the line, okay looking good-

‘Siiigma!’

Maybe if he was quiet enough Nikolai just wouldn’t see him. Like a T-Rex, if it’s not moving it can’t see it.

‘Ah! There you are~.’

Shit.

Out of all the members of the Decay of Angels, Nikolai was Sigma’s least favourite. He was far too unhinged, occasionally visiting Sigma just to threaten him as a joke, or play around with him. Never really hurting him though, Sigma suspected that Fyodor had ordered him not to.

That was another thing. Nikolai hated any time Sigma spent with Fyodor. Few as it was, in Nikolai’s opinion it was time that should have been spent with him instead. Nevermind that they were only discussing their great plan, or giving meagre updates on the Casino, according to Nikolai that was time that ought to have been spent with him, Fyodor’s best friend or boyfriend or whatever.

Sigma truly did not wish to be a part of either of their schemes. All he wanted to do was run his Casino. And yet.

“Sigma!” Nikolai pouted, “Why were you ignoring me?”

Sigma took in a long, measured breath.

“I did not mean to ignore you, I was just focussed on my work.” Which I would love to get back to, he thought bitterly.

“Oh, okay!” Nikolai said, taking a seat on his desk, scattering papers to the floor. Sigma leaned down to pick them up.

“It’s just… what were you up to today?” Nikolai said, seeming earnestly curious.

Sigma leaned back up, shuffling the stack back together and setting them down neatly on the desk. “I had breakfast with my head of staff, then had a brief meeting with Fyodor-”

“See,” Nikolai interrupted, “That’s what I heard, but I thought it couldn’t be true because Fyodor was meant to meet with me this morning and I thought ‘There’s no way my best friend Dostoy would blow me off for you!’, But now you’re telling me he did? Why would Dostoy do that?” He leaned in closer, kicking his feet childishly, “I think you must have done something… forced him.”

“I can assure you,” Sigma put on his best ‘Manager’ voice, “That I did in no way force Fyodor to meet with me, nor did I have any idea of your plans.”

“Hmm…” A mischievous grin broke out on Nikolai’s face, “If you say so~!”

For a second, Sigma hoped that would be all. For a second, he turned back to his desk and lifted his hand to the paper on top of the stack, when all of the papers were suddenly lifted away from him. He looked up, mouth open in protest as Nikolai tossed the papers into his cloak.

There was a beat of silence.

Then, a fluttering noise at the end of the room as the papers scattered out of Nikolai’s portal.

He did not turn to look, did not sigh, or even blink. Nikolai’s face was stretched into a massive, wobbly grin, as though he was trying not to laugh. It did not last long, as he burst into a loud, maniacal laugh. Now Sigma did sigh, as he raised from the chair and walked to the mess at the end of the room.

Apparently Nikolai did not deem this punishment enough, for as soon as he had turned his back he felt a heavy weight flop on top of him, arms wrapping around his core.

“Oh Sigma~.” Nikolai sang in his ear, and began prodding at his sides.

Fuck.

He tried to keep his composure, but Nikolai’s fingers were relentless, working their way under his blazer and pinching gently at his sides.

“Nik- Nikol- Nihikolahai! Stop!”

But it was too late, from his first laugh he knew he was a goner. Nikolai was like a shark, once he tasted blood (giggles) he was relentless. See, he may not have harmed Sigma, at least not physically, so his new favourite way to extract revenge came in the form of… tickles. Oh the humanity.

“Tickle tickle, Sigma~” Nikolai whispered, wiggling his fingers along his sides. Sigma felt his legs begin to give out as he fought against the laughter blooming within himself.

“I prohohomihihise! Ack- I did nohohohot fohohorce Fyodohohor to mehehehehehet mehehehe.” Sigma choked out, falling to his knees as Nikolai grew heavier on his back.

“Oh I know that, as if you could have any influence on Dostoy~.” As he spoke Nikolai’s hands worked up his body, pinching at his ribs and making him writhe.

Sigma squealed, his hands jumping up to weakly push Nikolai away, “Thehehen whahahat dohoho yohohouhu wahahahant!”

“You work too hard, Sigma. I’m just helping you relax.” Nikolai pouted.

“No yohohouhuhu aren- Hey!” Sigma’s arm slammed down as his quick fingers began to flutter under his arm.

“Sure I am. You don’t believe me?” Nikolai grinned, before putting on a hurt voice, “Are you calling me a liar?”

“Nohohohohoho!” Sigma called, even though that was exactly what he was doing. One of Nikolai’s hands was attempting to wriggle into his armpit, while the other was wrestling with his wrist, clamped tightly against his chest.

Nikolai rested his head on Sigma’s shaking shoulder. “I think you are~,” He cooed, “I don’t like liars.”

Sigma began to protest weakly, as Nikolai gripped his wrist and slowly forced his arm up, and into his cape.

It disappeared. There was a soft glow in front of them as his hand reappeared on the floor in front of them, and the portal tightened until he couldn’t pull it back through. He twisted till he was looking at Nikolai, still crouched over him and beaming.

“Noo, Nikolai please- just let me get back to work, you could see Fyodor now! Don’t waste your time on me, please.”

“Hmm,” He appeared to be considering it, but Sigma knew better than that by now. He braced himself.

“Nope~!” Nikolai called, and his fingers came skittering under Sigma’s arm.

He shrieked, pulling as hard as he could, but to no avail. He could do nothing but fall into hysterical cackles as his worst spot was clawed at mercilessly. He fell to the side a little, practically slumped in Nikolai’s arms as he half-hugged him to get at his spot, his other hand holding his cloak open.

“NIHIHIKOKOLAHAIHI!” Sigma cried.

“Is something the matter?” Came his shit eating response.

“YEHEHEHES, IHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLEHEHES!! PLEHEHEAHAHSE!” Nikolai’s response was to dig deeper, the tips of his fingers scratching into the divot under his arm while his thumb dug into Sigma’s ribs. He tipped his head back and laughed, now fully boneless against Nikolai.

After a long moment, he realised that Nikolai had stopped. He released the portal and Sigma’s arm came crashing through. For a second he lay there, panting, until he realised he was lying in Nikolai’s lap and shot up.

Nikolai followed him up, snickering, “You looked so comfortable~.” He teased.

Sigma blushed. “Yes well- is that all?” He really had no idea how to end these ‘sessions’.

“Mhm!” Nikolai said, skipping away, “I think I’ll go see if Dostoy wants to have tea with me, bye!”

And just like that, he was gone. Sigma turned around and sat heavily at his desk, still somewhat short on breath.

There was silence, then another fluttering of paper. He looked up, confused and blinked at the messy stack that had appeared on his desk, only catching the last golden glimmer of a portal. Sigma swung round in his chair, but Nikolai was gone.

One single piece of paper drifted from the top of the stack towards the floor.

Sighing, Sigma picked it up and got back to work.

#squealing santa 2k23 #ss2k23 #lee!sigma #ler!nikolai #bsd tickles #merry xmas!!!!! haha

[feverdreamsanddelusions]

5

inspo

[tw language, kidnapping, captivity, hostage situation, stockholm syndrome, lima syndrome, talk of dismemberment]

They weren't supposed to get attached to the hostage.

But spending several days in a stupid little cottage with no one else to talk to seemed to have done a number on both of their psyches, with Whumpee treating them more and more like a particularly intimidating friend, and in turn... Whumper taking a liking to them.

It was ridiculous, of course. At first, Whumper suspected a trap, or an escape attempt. Why else would their hostage go on a quiet little rant about how messed up their life had been before the kidnapping? How the kidnapping had hardly made it worse, quite the contrary. How they didn't mind the restraints, not really, they were just getting really worried about blood circulation. It was the perfect way to get Whumper to loosen them so they could free themself and run.

But Whumpee stayed perfectly still the entire time. They didn't even look at Whumper. They were trembling slightly at the closeness, but they just sat there and let Whumper readjust their bonds without any indication of their desire to escape. But they must've wanted to. Right?

Whumpee kept complimenting the food, too. It was nothing fancy, mostly canned stuff and some instant oats; and yet Whumpee seemed delighted to be cared for, always making sure they thanked Whumper thoroughly.

It had to be part of a plan. It just had to be.

It didn't matter.

"Today is the deadline," Whumper announced. "You better hope they have the fucking money."

Whumpee swallowed and nodded. "What... what if they..."

"If they fucked up? Oh, I don't know. Shooting you in the head feels like a waste. Maybe I'll cut off an arm and send it to them..."

It felt wrong to say that. It felt cruel. It was cruel, but that was supposed to be the point! They weren't supposed to care about the hostage's opinion!

"I can live without an arm," Whumpee mumbled, and Whumper froze in their tracks.

"What?"

"N-nothing. Nothing. I'm sorry."

"What the fuck did you say?" They walked over and grabbed Whumpee by the neck of their shirt, barely able to tell what made them want to hear that again so badly. Was it because they wanted to slap Whumpee for it? Because they thought their victim had implied their family wouldn't pay, rendering the plan useless? Because of perceived defiance? Or was it... something else?

"I said– I said I c-can live without an arm," they choked out. "I'm sorry, I didn't– I didn't mean anything by it, I want to keep my arm–"

"Why the fuck would you say shit like that? Huh? What's wrong with you?"

Whumpee shook their head, tears trickling down their face. "I just don't want to go back! I– I'm just happy you'd allow me a few more days with you, even if– even if it'd cost me an arm! I just don't want to leave! I hate them! I hate them so much! I, I hope they don't pay–"

Whumper slapped them across the face and let go, allowing their hostage to crumple to the ground in a sobbing heap. Fucking idiot. What a stupid thing to say.

"I can't believe I kidnapped someone so sick in the head," they grumbled, and Whumpee curled up tighter at the insult.

Fucking hell.

They were already hoping the stupid fucks wouldn't pay, and now Whumpee had to say it out loud?

#whump #whump drabble #kidnapping #captivity #hostage situation #stockholm syndrome #lima syndrome #talk of dismemberment #res writes

[simmyfrobby]

Hi, I'm back actually, sorry if you like, moved on, still thinking over here, because like. It's Flower. Of course it's Flower who knew. Nicest guy in the league who can pull a prank on anyone. Who has all the connections. Who gave him the helmet and who Brandon got in a fight for and who hid Brandon's clothes and who drew on Brandon's face on the shirt but not on Connor's and- and- and-

And there's a picture of this kid who looks kind of like Connor but also like someone else (and also kind of like his kid but all kids look alike when it's only been a few months right?) and Connor never said anything about anyone who could he possibly- whatever, whoever he is isn't there. Or maybe he is, Connor's been hiding a kid, after all.

It's the same onesie. He figures he'd find a lot of the same onesies in Connor's place in Toronto that he has in Denver. Because the Fleurys think they're funny, probably. Matching onesies because that's what Deweys do, match (they both got traded, and now they're both wearing blue). And it's all right there, Connor and the kid and the onesie, so easy to believe for a moment that this isn't a second hand photo that came from Flower but that it's just Connor texting him. A snapshot of a different life. It's all right there except it's not because it's all in fucking Toronto half a continent away and the only person Connor told wasn't Brandon.

-J

hi good morning im glad you decided to start your day by going: you know who deserves to suffer? joy.

little sprinklings of flowerdeweys that’s so delicious actually.

the timeline kind of depends on whether or not the wild make the playoffs. minnesota doesnt play the leafs after the deadline and neither do the avs so like.. if the wild makes the postseason none of them have a chance to go visit connor and potentially discover the baby until after one of them is eliminated. if the leafs are the first team out then connor could disappear up north for the entire offseason to figure things out & stay out of the limelight and just…

unintentionally make duhaime so so angry.

every single one of his teammates, past or present, has stopped by to admire his baby or lend a hand and all he gets from connor is a few texts and the occasional call where connor sounds.. just.. drained.. and duhaime is disappointed worried furious.

anyway shaw goes to visit connor and figures it out that way. flower, i think, maybe suspects something the second he sees duhaime with a baby. hes been around the deweys for years and around hockey players for decades and he knows unrequited pining when he sees it. he directs all of his prank energy into parent trapping the deweys (and also anonymously sends connor a bunch of baby stæsj which connor, sleep deprived and paranoid as he is, gets zero enjoyment out of because the very first care packet came w a note saying “i know your secret :)” and now he thinks someone is threatening to out him to the toronto media)

anyway the first time duhaime sees dewar w a baby he quickly looks away and thinks about normal bro stuff (bench pressing and pr-ing his deadlift and um. maybe he should up his macros or something) because he is genuinely worried he’ll accidentally manifest another baby out of thin air w the force of his longing

#I need to run im late for work. deweyd too close to the sun #and the only person connor told wasn’t Brandon GOD #anyway all I can think about is duhaime trying NOT to think about connor too much because he’s misunderstood how the whole thing works #and thinks babies will just start popping up all over the place every time he think about connor #which is a scary thought because he can barely handle one infant and he thinks about connor A Lot

[ciaossu-imagines]

Thank you so much. And I see. Hope you enjoy the rest of the anime since it really is enjoyable, even if it hurts at times. And yes. So many people suffered and since I love more than just my fave it wasn’t nice to see. My fave is Captain Hitsugaya. And of course. Who are actually your faves now that we’re talking about it? He’s still not okay but I know he will be when the time comes since he still has an important part later on (which was kinda shown in one of the first trailers which was a nice surprise). Thank you so much. Like always, mixed. I had a video call with my friend yesterday which lasted two hours and the only reason it ended was because she had to go out to walk her dog. We also plan on calling later again this weekend which I’m looking forward to. I told her about an idea I have for a new story based on the Jujutsu Kaisen series and she approves so I might end up writing that at some point (even though I don’t have as much faith as usual in it since the series is very different from what I usually write about). I was also a bit sad because there’s a fave of mine from a different series that dies at some point and I was rewatching some episodes with him and seeing him being his great self just made it hurt. But I am glad that we got what we did of him because it’s beautiful nonetheless.

I also hope that your week calms down and that you can take it easy in one way or another.

C

You’re always welcome! Thank you so much for always wanting to talk to me, even if I’m not being super active! I really appreciate it! And I do enjoy Bleach and really, I should get back into either reading it or watching it. I mostly stuck to reading but I have been told that the fillers in Bleach, while excessive, were at least enjoyable. And honestly, I should have suspected that. Most of the people I know who love Bleach have Hitsugaya as a favourite and I definitely do think he’s a really cool character and I enjoy him, but he’s never been one of my favourites. I do love all of Squad 11, Hanatarou, Renji, Kira, Shuhei, and I’m a huge slut for both Shinji, Akon, and Kensei, not going to lie. All of the Visoreds were amazing. And, since I’ve been massively spoiled and know how everything goes and how the series ends, I know some of those characters really get hurt.

I’m so glad you got to have a video call with your friend! I know you said you don’t get to talk as much as you would like and I hope you’ll get more chances to chat! And I’ve watched the entirety of the first season of Jujutsu Kaisen and I definitely get what you mean. The only reason it’s not on my list is because I find it rather difficult to write for so I wish you all the best of luck! And thank you for the well wishes. Today was absolutely brutal…I had to have payroll done by last night and there was two employees who just would not get me their hours for the last week properly and who didn’t swipe as they should’ve through their shifts with their cards…anyway, when one of them called this morning to give me their hours, I had to tell them they missed the deadline for payroll that I had been super clear about and because of that, they were going to be missing last weeks pay off their paycheques. There was nothing I could do about it, honestly…anyway, long story short, I was told at some point during the argument that they hoped I both got raped on the way home tonight or hit by a fucking bus and like…work’s taking care of that and being awesome about it since I had to report that above me but it still fucking sucked. I hate piss poor men who hate being told no by a woman and resort to threats or wishes of violence on them. I’m trying so hard to not be blocked creatively, and to get things done here, even though I’m spending until seven at night at work, and while I love one of my friends dearly, they have been using me as a free therapist lately so rather tough week but you know, things will get better and I’m trying to stay as positive as possible! Taking time for self-care and happiness boosting things like rewatching favourite movies (Ghibli’s been a huge one for me lately because fuck, are they gorgeous)! I hope you, and each and every person reading this, is doing amazing, having fantastic weeks, and remembering to take time for self-care as well!

#admin chatter #some venting #i love my job but it sucks at times

[missnight0wl]

Why should MC join R only before graduation?

Honestly, I have no idea. But I suspect it’s simply a bluff to build more tension. From the story point of view, it’s good to put more pressure on MC because then they might be more likely to make an impulsive, irrational decision. At least, I imagine that’s what R would like. But for the audience, it’s pretty good as well. I assume it’s supposed to make us be like: “Oh, MC making the decision is gonna be so big! And it’s gonna happen so soon! I’m so excited!”. I mean, notice how they keep saying that graduation is so soon.

Alternatively, I guess it’s possible that whatever R needs MC for has to be done in very particular conditions. For example, all planets have to be aligned or something like that. And it happens that this rare event occurs at some time before MC’s graduation.

Still, I think that the tension-building explanation is more likely after all. And I’m not sure if you read the datamines, so I’m gonna put the next part under the cut because I will address some spoilers.

Alright, so at the end of Y7Ch55, MC wants to trick Peregrine by saying that they want to join R, but Peregrine is like: “Well, our invitation has expired!”. But like… DUDE. You said: “before graduation”. A DAY before graduation would still be “before graduation”. And I’m just not buying that their plan suddenly changed or whatever. Even if they couldn’t have predicted it precisely, they could’ve chosen a narrower deadline. Or, y’know… inform MC that the deadline changed? Especially since they supposedly care about MC so much.

Like, imagine that your teacher or supervisor gives you a deadline to send some task: Sunday, 23:59. You finish it by Friday evening, but you want to check it once more the next day, so you send it Saturday morning. But then, your teacher/supervisor is like: “Nah, I changed the deadline to Friday, 23:59”. You’re thinking: “What the fuck, dude?”, aren’t you?

Therefore, I have a feeling that there simply was no deadline, to begin with. Moreover, I wouldn’t be surprised if Perry is lying that it’s too late now. In fact, if you admit that you never wanted to join R, Peregrine says that he was suspecting it’s just a trap. So, telling MC that “it’s too late now” might be sort of a punishment as it’s quite possible that they will feel bad about it afterwards. “Oh, maybe if I made some decision earlier, we’d have more control over R’s plan! Now, who knows what they’re doing!”.

Anyway, that’s my attempt of finding some logic in there!

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm spoilers #hphm mc #hphm peregrine #hphm r #ask #anonymous

[subbyyang]

Don't keep my love on the low low (Keep my love on the low low) - Ten/Yangyang (14/?)

Yangyang had barely been able to think about anything else other than his date with Ten, especially seeing Xiaojun get ready for his, sending him photos of his outfit and the picnic basket as if Yangyang hadn’t helped set everything up. On one hand it made him excited for his own date, but on the other, he couldn’t help but feel a little sad - as he stared at his closet way too late on Thursday night - 

that there was no one to help him with his own. With a self-pitying sigh he grabbed a few clothes from his wardrobe and set them aside, hoping the ripped jeans and leather jacket would fit the vibe of the show. 

— — 

“Do you guys have plans for today?” Hendery asked as he looked around the table.

“I’m meeting up with Karina,” Xiaojun replied, a light blush tinting his cheeks when Hendery’s and Yangyang’s heads immediately turned his way.

“Already a second date?” 

“Yeah, it’s nothing fancy, there’s a movie she’s been wanting to watch,” Xiaojun replied, voice laced in self doubt, “actually, it probably doesn’t even count as a date,” he quickly added when Hendery whistled at him. 

“Of course it counts! I told you, she likes you for sure!” Yangyang said, trying his best to cheer up his friend. He wasn’t even lying: from the way Xiaojun had described the date and the way Hendery had seen Karina staring at Xiaojun during class, he truly was sure the date had been a success. 

“Maybe you can try to not chicken out and actually go for a kiss this time”

“Oh, fuck you!” Xiaojun said angrily, throwing a piece of bread at Hendery that had no problem dodging it. 

“What about you? Any plans?”

Yangyang’s breath got caught in his throat, his body tensing up. What should he say?? The only person who he usually had to lie to about his whereabouts was Kun and almost all his alibis were currently sitting at the table with him. He couldn’t say he was staying home since he suspected Hendery wanted to go out and he couldn’t say he was studying with Renjun because: 1) no one other than Kun would believe he was studying on a Friday night, and 2) Hendery and Renjun were cousins - very close ones at that - so he would know it was a lie. 

“I - hum - I mean, yeah, I need to help Kun with something - a project, for class,” Yangyang stuttered out, watching in horror as both Xiaojun and Hendery frowned at him, “photography class, outside - outside of uni, yeah,” he quickly added when he saw Xiaojun opening his mouth, preparing to ask him something. 

“Does it have to be tonight?”

“Yeah, deadlines or something like that”

Yangyang nearly sighed in relief when Hendery and Xiaojun seemed to accept his terrible excuse. He was still a little shaky as he finished his lunch, begging for the rest of the day to go on faster than it had so far. He couldn’t wait to see Ten. 

— — 

Yangyang had nearly jumped out of his seat by the time his last class of the day ended, rushing to get home and change before leaving for Ten’s. He debated with himself whether to put on the eyeliner Ten had loved so much the first night they spent together, finally deciding to do it as he remembered the way Ten had stared at him as if he had wanted to devour him. 

He felt both excited and nervous as he rang Ten’s doorbell, fingers toying with the frayed hem of his shirt. He had suggested taking separate trains and meeting up at the venue but Ten had insisted on meeting at his house. 

“There you are,” Ten said with a bright smile as he opened the door, pulling aside so Yangyang could enter, “and look at you…you look gorgeous,” Ten nearly purred, eyes darting up and down Yangyang’s body. He smirked at the flushed look on Yangyang’s face before pulling him into a kiss. “Always so easy to fluster,” Ten whispered against Yangyang’s lips, laughing lightly at his soft whine before pecking his lips once and pulling away. 

“Stop teasing me” 

“No, not when you got all dolled up for me, let me take another look at you,” Ten said, voice soft and fond as he cupped Yangyang’s cheek, his thumbs brushing along his lower lashes. 

“Ten,” Yangyang said, not much higher than a whisper, his eyes fluttering closed as Ten leaned forward, nosing along his jaw, hands sliding inside his shirt, fingertips ghosting along his skin, “Ten, please”.

“We’ll be late if we continue,” Ten said with a sigh, pulling away just enough to kiss the pout off of Yangyang’s lips before pulling away completely, “I’ll make it up to you when we get back”

“You promise?” Yangyang asked, wrapping his arms around Ten to keep him from moving away.

“Are you serious? Yes, I promise, you big baby,” Ten said with a snort, “we really should get going though”

“Right, about that…hum, are you going to tell me how we’re getting there?”

“Car,” was all Ten replied as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket, jiggling them in Yangyang’s face before turning towards the front door. 

“Since when do you have a car?” 

“It’s a rental,” Ten said, turning once again towards Yangyang, “look, I just wanted to spend as much time with you as possible,” he continued. 

Yangyang’s eyes softened at the vulnerability in Ten’s voice as he explained himself. He felt his chest filling with so much affection it was almost overflowing; so he did the only thing he could think of, wrapping his arms around Ten and pulling him into a hug. “I can’t wait to be stuck in a car with you for hours,” he said before kissing Ten’s cheek. 

“Good, because at this time, traffic is absolute hell” 

“I’ll just use that time to ogle at you,” Yangyang joked, voice light and filled with mirth, “I didn’t get the chance to say it but you look so good tonight”. Yangyang allowed himself to take in Ten’s appearance; he wasn’t lying, with his messy black hair and ears covered in piercings, a white ripped t-shirt paired with tight leather pants - so tight they made Yangyang’s mouth water - and black shimmery eyeshadow, he looked breathtaking. 

Ten snorted at him, “tonight,” he said as he rolled his eyes before turning around just in time to hide the blush on his cheeks, “come on, we can’t be late”. 

— — 

Yangyang couldn’t look away. The sun was starting to set, bathing the car in soft, golden light and Ten had never looked more beautiful - singing along to some song on the radio, tapping the steering wheel in time with the beat. They had been driving for about two hours at this point, the conversation flowing easily between them and Yangyang was already dreading the time they got to their destination, not because he didn’t want to watch the show with Ten, no, but because it meant they would be getting closer to the end of their time together. 

“So, Lisa, tell me about her,” Yangyang asked once the current song ended, turning in his seat so he was fully facing Ten. 

“We grew up together, our mothers were best friends so we were always around each other,” Ten said with a fond smile, a faraway look in his eyes, “everyone thought we would end up marrying each other when we got older, that’s how close we were but…”

“You’re gay,” Yangyang finished for him.

“And she’s a lesbian so, match made in heaven I guess,” Ten laughed quietly, “I haven’t seen her in so long, it’s weird, it’s like a piece of me is missing”.

“It’s not weird, she’s a big part of your life,” Yangyang reasoned, turning back towards the road ahead of them, letting his head lean on the headrest, “I’m excited to meet her”

“Oh, she’s going to love you,” Ten replied, looking away from the road just for a second so he could smile at Yangyang before focusing again.

“You don’t know that”

“Yes, I do,” Ten simply replied, ‘because I do too’. That thought seemed to startle Ten, causing his cheeks to burn bright red, his heart picking up inside his chest. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving,” Yangyang replied as he stared out the window. If he had noticed Ten’s attempt to change the subject he said nothing of it.

They drove in comfortable silence for another fifteen minutes until they came across a rest stop. It wasn’t fully empty but there were only a couple of people, one eyeing the selection of sandwiches as the other paid for and knocked down a can of some overpriced energy drink. It felt almost a little unsettling, as if time didn’t work the same way in there. 

Yangyang found a secluded table as Ten bought them something to eat. During their drive, Ten had told him a lot about his life in Thailand, an almost sad smile on his face as he talked about his family. It had made something ache in his chest seeing him like that and Yangyang hadn’t been able to stop thinking about visiting Thailand with Ten, seeing his home, meeting his family. It would be nice. 

“Here you go, a gourmet meal,” Ten said, startling Yangyang out of his thoughts as he placed a tray on the table. 

Yangyang laughed as he eyed their dinner: two very sad looking sandwiches, two cup noodles, two large coffees and a chocolate bar - Snickers, his favorite. “Is the chocolate for me?”

“Of course,” Ten said as he sat down across from Yangyang, his fingers surreptitiously intertwining with Yangyang’s, “only the best for my baby”.

Yangyang knew Ten was joking but that hadn’t stopped his heart from fluttering at Ten’s words ‘my baby’. He ducked his head, attempting and failing to hide his blushing cheeks as he reached out for one of the sandwiches with his free hand, the other still safely cocooned under Ten’s, Ten’s thumb petting his wrist. 

— — 

“We should get going if we don’t want to be late,” Ten said as he stared at his phone, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, “there isn’t that much traffic on the highway but there will be once we reach the city”.

“Oh, alright,” Yangyang replied, a little sad that their impromptu dinner was coming to an end. The rest stop wasn’t too busy so they had managed to hold hands for almost the whole time they were there, and maybe it was a little cheesy but Yangyang had never been happier. 

Yangyang and Ten walked side by side to the car, not holding hands, lest someone saw them, but so close together their fingers kept innocently knocking against each other’s. Once in the car, Ten quickly locked the door before leaning over to where Yangyang was sitting and kissed him softly, the darkness of the night offering them protection from possible prying eyes. Not that there were any, no one wanting to spend too much time outside in January. 

Yangyang sighed happily into the kiss, melting against Ten’s hands on his cheeks but sooner than he would have liked Ten was pulling away, telling him once again they had to hurry so he could see Lisa before she got on stage. He sat back on his seat, smiling softly at the excited look on Ten’s face as he restarted the car, looking breathtaking as he threw a hand around the back of Yangyang’s seat and turned around to reverse out of the parking lot. Yangyang felt his heart jump behind his ribcage as Ten winked at him before getting back on the road, the radio playing some love sick song that somehow made perfect sense to Yangyang.

#tenyang #yangyang #ten wayv

[reallystellacadente]

I made the HUGEST mistake ever a few weeks ago, posting on Facebook how much I love my job, because it's been all downhill since then. I love the work, but the boss has turned out to be ... a boss. Not the good kind; the self-centered capitalist kind.

Under a cut for ranting. And sadness.

I made a mistake and owned up to it, but I've been drubbed over and over and over again for it. It wasn't on purpose -- my internet and 5G were down and I missed an appointment the day after a bad storm came through and wiped out power for like 350,000 people. I was told the client hadn't paid her bill and to hold off on re-setting the appointment. Either I misheard or the person who told me this misspoke. And it was my fault for not following through to see if the client had paid. Anyway, the client walked and had to get a refund. This is the first mistake I've made in more than a year working here. The boss has repeatedly said in meetings that the dollar loss was higher than it was.

The thing is, the person who could back me up didn't and I suspect that's because the boss is riding her into the ground. She's a single mother and this is her only income. This person, like me, has multiple jobs at the company. Unlike me, she's a full-time, salaried employee. She's supposed to be the office manager, but the boss has gone full-on paranoid that the reason we aren't getting new clients is because we aren't working hard enough, so she's turned our office manager/her personal assistant/client success manager into another sales person. It's affecting how I do my job that the office manager can no longer help, you know, manage the office. The office manager can only speak with us on our recorded phoneline and for no longer than 15 minutes a day. As if she ever had time to spend more than that.

I work from home and am disabled, so "just come into the office if your internet is down" is a major undertaking for me. I am only getting paid for 30 hrs per week, and that's after taking on two additional roles -- I was getting paid for 20 hours per week for the job I was hired to do. I worked 37 hours last week over six days, including today because one client blew off two appointments on Thursday for a project with a deadline of tomorrow. I met with her this morning. We took her case/money Wednesday knowing of the tight deadline. There's no way to get compensation for extra time. We just get blamed for not buckling down hard enough. Oh, but I made the first and so far only sale on our new services platform and did I mention I'M NOT A FUCKING SALESPERSON I WOULD RATHER STAB MY EYES OUT WITH HOT FORKS.

Thing is, the company is suffering but IT'S THE FUCKING ECONOMY. We are in the financial services sector, which is always hard hit when consumer confidence is down and/because inflation is ridiculous. She complains about lack of leads and makes the office manager throttle old leads into the ground, when for a pittance a month we could be advertising. She could get some of the extra labor help we need by setting up an internship at the multiple universities in this city. She could get it for free or at least cheap. I have laid out multiple ad channels we could be taking advantage of but no, we are not working hard enough.

Oh, and even if I come into the office, I can't do anything but use the Internet. We have to work in Google drive and 90% of my job is creating documents in Word. (I pay out of my own pocket for MS 365, Canva Pro, and Adobe). I have a shared google drive on my desktop, but my laptop doesn't. It's a $200 potato machine -- but when the 5G is on, I can at least use my phone as a hotspot -- I even pay for extra bandwidth just in case. I pay for a lot out of pocket for what is still a poverty-wage position as I am the sole support for three people, not counting the princely sum of $575 a month my fully disabled husband gets. The boss doesn't accept anyone else's reality. She's the one who demands we only work on Google drive but doesn't get you need to work in Word and then post it to the drive, which is supposed to only be for document storage, not creation. Don't try telling her this as she always has some objection/excuse, "Well I can get it done, why can't you?"

I'm looking for another job but I have been looking for additional work the whole time I've been working here. I can't stand for more than 5 minutes tops. I just spent $300 for a walker with a chair that might help me do things like get in and out of an accessible building but I need a sit on my butt job. I would probably be a candidate for disability myself, but my husband had to wait 2 years and a court case to get his. I can't go 2 years without an income.

OUAT I respected my boss but when the chips went down, she proved she is not trustworthy, not nice, not reasonable, not rational ... just another well-to-do (she has a side business as a high-up insurance broker, taking half of the commissions of multiple people below her) boss. And since this is a PT gig, if the company goes down or she lets me go, I won't get unemployment.

#meirl #rant #bosses gonna boss #fuck capitalism #ignore

[royalberryriku]

// vent, personal

TW: psychological and emotional abuse, verbal abuse, mention of threats, family issues, ableism

So for the last few days I think my mum's been in a really bad mood and she's gone back to this really screwed up bad habit of using me as an emotional punching bag and making fun of me / making snide remarks about me when she's feeling off.

I have several mental illnesses and (suspected) chronic fatigue, she knows this, but still she keeps making fun of how I'm unable to do things all at once, miss deadlines, can't always do physical tasks as easily as others, etc. I'm basically just this walking butt of a joke and she's always found it hilarious (I sure don't find it that though) to point out how """useless""" I am and how I can't do shit everyone else (as in: "she") finds "easy".

Twice in a two she's done this in the past three days and I'm so fucking tired of how she just suddenly flips around and decides to be spiteful and nasty towards me for literally no reason and for things she KNOWS aren't purposeful/ my fault.

"Knowing you, you'll only be able to do it once I'm at work because it takes you so long" thanks. Way to remind me that I can't do a bunch of shit at once like you can because I need breaks in between things or I fucking faint or snap emotionally! "You really should have a shower, otherwise you shouldn't go [to my friend's place]" after I showered barely a few days ago KNOWING I struggle with showers and that I was tired and in bed all fucking day thanks a lot! This is one way to make me feel even more tired and make it HARDER TO DO THESE THINGS. What does she expect?? Making me tired and feeling worse and like shit will "motivate" me to somehow "cure" my fucking disabilities as if I can snap my fingers and with a few insults suddenly I can do shit?? That's not how this works.

I've told her before that this makes me uncomfortable too, but she just replies with "you shouldn't be so fragile" and tells me to suck it up basically. It's annoying for one, sure, but it also hurts a really sore spot with how she used to be a lot worse when I was younger and I developed a huge fear of being abandoned/ thrown away after she and my dad split and how she used to threaten shit when I was younger. Little me viewed the split as him being "thrown away" because I didn't understand why and had overheard arguments previously where my dad had been called useless by her. Basically, this is just rubbing it in even more and hurting way more than she realises it does. Actually I don't even know if she doesn't realise, maybe she does but I want to at least be optimistic here.

I hate feeling useless and I already feel frustrated due to not being able to do the things I want to do due to said disabilities listed, she's just continually rubbing it in for her own satisfaction and to have a laugh. It makes me feel like she thinks my only use to her is cheap entertainment and besides that I'm fucking useless and she finds it fulfilling to laugh at that as if I fucking choose to have these issues which limit me to this degree. I'm frustrated and angry, and tbh just overall very tired of this bullshit. I wouldn't make fun of her like this, but it's suddenly justified because she thinks she's entitled to me and I can't have a say in how I'm told fucked up shit that makes me want to fucking die or disappear from her life/ stay tf away from her?? Then she gets mad when I distance myself from her because of this. History fucking repeats itself and she never learns.

Anyway. I'm tired as fuck and I'm angry, so I'm not gonna even be able to sleep to avoid thinking about this, sooo tonight is gonna suck. Can't wait for tomorrow to just have some time alone where I can just rest without anxiety or anything. I just really wanna be by myself and be able to let out that anger and frustration with art and music and not having to please anyone or look any particular way or just... put any emotional labour into anything. I'm just tired and need a rest from my mum's bs rn.

#vent #personal

[msclaritea]

Billy Porter: ‘I have to sell my house’ because of Hollywood strikes | The Hill

“Yeah! Because we’re on strike. And I don’t know when we’re gonna go back [to work],” Porter told British outlet Evening Standard. “The life of an artist, until you make f‑‑‑ you money — which I haven’t made yet — is still check-to-check.”

“None of that is happening. So to the person who said ‘we’re going to starve them out until they have to sell their apartments,’” Porter added, referencing a Deadline story in which an unnamed Hollywood executive said as much. “You’ve already starved me out.”

Porter, who starred in FX series “Pose,” shared his concern that actors currently don’t have the ability to receive residuals payments from streaming services. He also expressed his anger toward Disney CEO Bob Iger, who has received backlash from many for his recent comments saying that striking writers aren’t being realistic with their demands. 

“I don’t have any words for it, but: f‑‑‑ you,” he told the outlet. “That’s not useful, so I’ve kept my mouth shut. I haven’t engaged because I’m so enraged. I’m glad I’ve been over here.”

So, let me get this straight: Billy Porter is pissed he hasn't made enough money to be able to tell other people to fuck off, BUT he's pissed that Big Iger, expressed a similar attitude. I'm strongly beginning to suspect Bob Iger was set up by his corporate studio peers to be THE ONE out of all of them to make a public statement, since none of these other cowardly heads have said barely a word. But they are sending lots of spoiled ass celebrities to the press to attack JUST Iger and Disney. People can pretend all they want but these other studios, that lean more heavily conservative and/or have deep connections with the Church of Scientology are most definitely still trying to damage/destroy the Disney corporation, which has the most healthiest, most kid-friendly, family friendly, diverse offerings. To me personally, it's the least problematic studio out here, with a lot less toxic incidents within the company. So, I WILL defend it and Billy Porter, with his spoiled ass, can go fuck himself. I'm not gonna wait around to be told to fuck off once he hits the lottery.

Act like a tool, you will be treated like a tool.

[leslie-lyman]

Stranger At My Gate - Chapter 7 (Pero Tovar x modern!OFC)

A time-traveling Pero. A modern woman trying her best. A kitchen full of possibility. A helping of Midwest kindness. A dash of magic. And a lot of Christmas spirit.

pairing: Pero Tovar x modern!OFC

rating: E 🚨 [18+ ONLY, minors DNI]

warnings: hoo boy. fingering; oral (m & f receiving); cum eating; a little sorta hint of D/s dynamics (dom!Pero/sub!Tessa), but also both of them are switches; I don’t care that he’s from a thousand years ago Pero Tovar is a Consent King; a whole lot of teasing; a whole lot of tickling/tickle kink (I think? Is that a thing? Oh god don’t look at me)

word count: 4.2k

a/n: Hi everyone! An extra special thank you/forehead kiss to all who let me know how much they liked the last chapter - seriously, the relief I felt over the response y’all had was immense and I appreciate it so, so much. So here’s some more sexy times, as a treat! (I may or may not have had the bulk of this chapter written MONTHS ago and there may or may not be a small part of me that constructed the entirety of the rest of this fic just so I could get to this part and share it with y’all…) I also tried to weave some plot into this chapter but Tessa and Pero seem determined to ignore the plot for the moment so I decided to ignore it too. Also we are deviating from my usual mediocre moodboard at the top here because there is a moment in this chapter in which Pero makes that exact expression at Tessa (see if you can figure out when it is 😉).

One more thing! If you have not already seen this SAMG artwork that I commissioned from @shite-art, PLEASE go have a look at the incredible job Maia did with bringing my babies to life!!!

Previous chapter.

Masterlist.

———

Seven.

They really should talk about…this.

But they haven’t. Yet.

Tessa means too, she really does. But every time she thinks about it her mind inevitably drifts instead to how amazing Pero makes her feel when they fuck, how good he feels over her, under her, around her, inside her -

Talking about it means confronting both their feelings and the looming deadline on Pero’s time here, and Tessa isn’t sure what to do or say about either.

She doubts Pero can be relied on to start that conversation. He’s no more or less talkative now than he was before they started having sex; he’s not terribly good at asking for what he wants from her, but now that she’s made clear that she welcomes his attentions, he doesn’t hesitate to show her what he wants.

Tessa barely gets any work done over the next few days, the two of them hungry and wild for each other in the insatiable way new partners often are. It’s how Tessa finds herself in Pero’s lap after lunch one day, riding his cock with the aid of his strong, massive hands on her thighs as he sucks bruises across the tops of her breasts. It’s how they’re woken up in the middle of the night by one of them grinding against the other in their sleep, neither being sure who started it but only caring how they finish it, in a sweaty, breathless tangle of limbs between Tessa’s sheets and both of their come drying between their legs.

Tessa hasn’t said anything to her family, but she suspects they all know by now, given the texts from Moira she’d received the morning after her and Pero’s first night in bed together. Tessa really should not have expected any less after her aunt’s machinations; there’s no way the nosy woman wouldn’t have made sure to see them kiss and then leave hastily together, and while Tessa can’t bring herself to be all that upset about Moira’s meddling given the result, she does regret teaching her aunt the naughty double meanings of certain emojis.

But owning up to her siblings and Moira about Pero are all additional conversations Tessa is determined not to have, at least for several days. They’ll inevitably ask her questions she can’t answer.

Just let me enjoy this, she begs the universe. For just a little while, let me not worry about anything else, let me just have this, this man who wants me, who likes me, who calls me angel and makes me come so hard I see stars.

It’s like living inside a delicate bubble, warm and cozy and ever so fragile, and neither Tessa nor Pero seems inclined to risk popping it.

Everything is different between them now, and nothing is.

Evenings still typically end with the two of them on the couch, a fire in the fireplace and something on the tv, but now they spend it cuddled together, Tessa curled underneath Pero’s arm, or with her head in his lap, or with him spooned up behind her.

A handful of nights into this new dynamic, Tessa ends up laying mostly on top of him on the couch, head turned to one side to face the tv.

“Not to bias you before you’ve seen it,” she whispers to him before hitting play, “but this is my favorite movie of all time.”

Pero grunts noncommittally in response. He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to pay attention to the story being told on screen with Tessa snuggled into him like this, each soft curve of her body gently molded to his, the sweet scent of her hair right under his nose.

But the film draws him in more than he’d expected. It’s easy for him to follow, set mostly in a fictional kingdom and time period not that dissimilar from his own.

Tessa’s whole body trembles as she tries to suppress her laughter during a scene where two characters trade witty barbs over poisoned wine. She turns her face so her mouth is half-pressed into his chest. He can feel her smile and move her lips along with each line of dialogue and it has him far more enraptured than the movie.

“That is actually not bad advice,” he murmurs towards the end of the scene.

“What do you mean?”

“In my experience, land wars in Asia are indeed best to be avoided.”

It takes Tessa a moment to process what he’s said, but then she fully buries her face into his chest and positively shakes with laughter. When she can breathe again, she tilts her head up to look at him, eyes bright with a mirth he put there, and the knowledge floods Pero with an odd, electric kind of warmth he’s never known before.

———

“So?” She asks when the credits start to play. “What did you think?”

Pero hums, considering.

“An entertaining tale, though obviously leaving the prince alive at the end was a mistake.”

He can feel Tessa roll her eyes and his lips quirk up. She turns the tv off and settles back down on his chest.

“Sometimes a story doesn’t have to tie up all the loose ends, Pero. Sometimes a story will just end with the assertion that they all lived happily ever after, and you just choose to believe that that’s true.”

Pero idly runs his hands gently along her back, tracing over each notch in her spine with his thumb.

“That can be a comforting thought, I suppose,” he says.

“Mhm,” she replies, growing relaxed and sleepy under his touch.

Pero slowly slides one hand under the fabric of her shirt, wanting to feel her soft, warm skin against his palm. He drags his hand up and over the dip of her waist, then trails his fingertips back down her side -

And suddenly Tessa squeaks, her whole torso jerking away from him. Pero stops instantly.

“Tessa? Are you alright?”

She nods.

“Yeah, sorry,” she says, her voice breathy and higher pitched than usual. “I just, I wasn’t expecting -”

“Is it possible,” Pero replies, a devilish little smile carving across his features as understanding dawns, “that you are ticklish, angel?”

Tessa freezes atop him, holding herself perfectly still. Her answer takes a beat too long to come to be the truth.

“No.”

“No?” Pero shifts his hand a fraction of an inch, a little test, but it’s enough. Tessa scrambles to get away from him but she’s too slow. In the blink of an eye he reverses their positions, easily flipping her underneath him on the couch, straddling her hips to hold her down.

“Pero, don’t you dare -” she shrieks, wriggling beneath him in a way that has his cock, half-hard since she cuddled into him at the start of the movie, rapidly swelling.

“Easy, angel,” he says, capturing her wrists and bending down to nip at her throat in reprimand. “If you’re not ticklish, prove it.”

She huffs at him, clearly preparing another indignant retort, but stops when she notices his eyes blown black with desire. There’s a smug wickedness written all over his face, and she swallows, considering what he might have in mind, then whispers, “Okay.”

Pero’s smirk is positively feral. He pulls her shirt slowly up and off, revealing her naked chest to his gaze, then takes her hands and positions them so she’s holding onto the couch arm above her head.

“These stay here.” He presses down on her wrists for emphasis. “Or you don’t get to come. Understood?”

Tessa nods. Pero catches her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Tell me you understand, angel.”

“I understand, Pero.”

His cock twitches at the sight of her, bare from the waist up, spread out beneath him, the picture of submission. He starts by splaying one hand over her tummy, reaching his fingers as wide as they will go, just to see how much of her he can cover.

Then he gently places just the pads of his fingers along her sides. He moves slowly, telegraphing what he’s going to do before he does it. He doesn’t want to startle her; that is not the goal of his game.

He hears her inhale, feels her tense underneath him.

“Not ticklish you say, angel? Are you sure?” She nods, a tiny mhm escaping her lips.

“Not even here?” One by one, he lifts each finger and walks them up and down her waist. She quivers underneath him, but shakes her head no.

“What about here?” He works his way up, tracing the underside of each breast, then running a fingertip up and over each of her stiff, pointed nipples. Goosebumps follow wherever he touches her, but again, she shakes her head no.

“Hmm,” he hums, frowning in faux consternation. “Perhaps…here?”

Slowly, ever so slowly, he runs the backs of his fingernails up the outside of her breast and up into her armpit. Tessa shuts her eyes, biting down on her lower lip as she whines, her grip on the couch going white-knuckled.

“Shh,” Pero hushes her. “I know it’s a lot. Look at me.”

She blinks up at him, chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths.

“There you are, angel. Should I check the other side, do you think? Just to make sure?” He ghosts his fingers up under her opposite arm and he can feel her breath stop, feel how hard she’s trying to keep still, to be good for him. He keeps going, all the way to her elbow, before retreating back the way he came.

“So far, angel, looks like you’re telling the truth,” he murmurs.

“Please,” Tessa whimpers. Pero stills.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, though he’s almost certain she does not.

“No.” She shifts her hips under him in protest of the very notion, arching her back to push her breasts closer to his face. The light from the dying fire and the dim glow of the tree lights near the window paint her skin in warm washes of orange and pink and blue, carving out places of shadow along her body and he’s determined to know every hidden inch of her.

“No,” she says again, “Pero, please, I need you to touch me.”

He trails his fingers down her sternum.

“But angel,” he coos, “I am touching you.”

A noise of frustration works its way out of her throat.

“Though I do admit,” he says, dragging a hand over her stomach to the waistband of her sleep pants, “there is much I have yet to explore, no?”

He moves back for just a moment and peels off her pants and underwear in one movement before gently parting her legs.

“Oh angel,” he breathes, eyes fixed on where her pussy glistens with arousal. “Look at you.”

A moment of indecision plays out across his face as he stares at her. He could end this little game right now, if he wanted. Stop the charade and have himself buried in Tessa’s tight, wet heat in a matter of moments. But he decides he’s enjoying the buildup too much. He gathers his wits, sitting up on his knees and bringing her right leg up to rest on his shoulder.

“Let me see,” he murmurs, watching Tessa’s eyes widen when she realizes what he’s about to do. He wraps one hand around her ankle, his grip firm but not so tight she could not break away from him if she wished.

“Are you ticklish…here?” His other hand softly skims along the arch of her foot. The motion draws an anguished moan from her. Without his weight to hold her down, her hips buck, leaving her writhing in the air just inches from where his aching cock tents the front of his pants.

But she shakes her head no, and doesn’t let go of the couch.

Pero chuckles, his hand traveling slowly up her leg.

“I don’t know if I believe you,” he tuts at her. He trails his hand up and around her calf, then traces tiny circles behind her knee.

“Pero, please,” she says again, lifting her hips once more as if to say look, please, can’t you see how much I want you?

“Patience, angel. I pride myself on being a thorough man.”

The lightest touch of his fingernails down the back of her thigh leave her trembling, but in response to his question of “here?” her answer is the same it’s always been.

“Well then, angel,” Pero says, leaning forward, “it looks like there’s only one place left to check. Are you ticklish…here?”

He brushes the tip of a single finger across her clit.

“Yes.” It comes out a sob, Tessa’s whole body arching off the couch.

“Oh?” Pero attempts to mock her, but his voice breaks on the single syllable. He drags his thumb through the wetness dripping from her folds and starts rubbing softly against the swollen bundle of nerves.

“I thought so, angel.”

He dips a finger into her, making a little satisfied sound when he slides in easily to the knuckle. She bucks into his hand, desperate for more.

“Pero, Pero, please -”

“What do you need?”

“Please,” she whines, “let me - let me touch you -”

“Come for me first,” he tells her, adding a second finger and increasing the pace of his thumb on her clit. “Come for me and I'll let you have anything you want.”

Tessa’s so worked up it takes no time at all to drive her right to the edge of her climax. He watches her pleasure break, every muscle going taut as her cunt flutters and pulses around his fingers.

When she’s come down from it he withdraws, taking a moment to trace the lips of her pussy in slow fascination, painting her in her own wetness. He pushes gently against her clit with slick fingertips and she flinches away, exhaling a little breathy ah at the overstimulation.

She lets go of the couch and sits up, pushing at his shirt and pants with shaky limbs until he’s as naked as she is. She leans forward, their positions and height difference allowing her to place open-mouthed kisses across his stomach while her hands trace the muscles in his back. His thick, hard cock brushes against her chin a few times, and Tessa pulls back slightly so she can wrap a hand around him and give him a few slow, teasing strokes. His eyes fall shut and she takes a moment to admire the length and heft of him, the way she can’t quite make her fingertips reach each other at the thickest part of his cock.

There’s a fat drop of precum gathered at the tip, and before she can overthink it she dips her head down and swipes her tongue across it.

Pero’s eyes fly open and he makes a sound like he’s been punched in the gut, his entire torso contracting in a flinch.

“Sorry, I - ”

“Did you just - ”

They stare at each other for a moment, then Tessa sits back, moving her hand to his knee.

“Sorry,” she says again. “I should have asked first if that was okay -”

“Do it again.” And even after all he’s already done to her tonight it must come out more commanding than he intends because he immediately softens it with, “please.”

And she almost does, she almost moves to obey him without another thought, but then Tessa decides he’s not the only one who can tease.

“Do…what, Pero? This?” She starts stroking him again, moving her hand lightly up and down his cock, neither her grip firm enough nor her pace fast enough to have any real hope of getting him off.

“No,” he growls at her, “you know what.”

“I do,” Tessa says sagely, finding immense pleasure in watching this broad, powerful man above her lose his mind a little. “I do know, but I need you to tell me.”

She squeezes him just a bit harder, and through clenched teeth he says,

“Please put your mouth on me again.”

Tessa grins and takes the entire tip of him into her mouth this time. Pero nearly shouts at the sensation as Tessa slowly starts to work her hand and mouth in tandem. Once she’s coated as much of him as she can in her spit she trails her lips up and down his shaft, teasing him with quick little kisses and kitten licks. He’s so tense and trying so hard to hold himself still she can practically hear the strain in his body.

She keeps up a steady rhythm with her hand and glances up at him. He’s squeezed his eyes shut again and almost looks like he’s in pain.

“Pero?” She calls softly, concerned.

He exhales a shaky breath and blinks down at her.

“You know you’re supposed to enjoy this, right?” She tells him, not unkindly. “If you aren’t, we can stop?”

“No.” He shakes his head sharply. “No, it’s not that, it’s just, I - mmm -” He loses his train of thought for a moment as Tessa rolls his foreskin up and over the tip of his cock and back again. “It’s just that -”

And even in the low light Tessa can see his skin flush and darken, his mouth pulling into a familiar scowl, and she’s pretty sure he’s…embarrassed? And there’s something in his tone that makes her wonder…

“Pero, has anyone ever done this for you before?”

She almost misses it, the minute jerk of his head no.

“It is not - it was not - commonly done. I’d heard stories, from men who would brag about women who would do such things, but only for a much higher price than I was ever willing to -”

He cuts himself off and won’t meet her eye. Tessa reaches up and grasps his arm, running her thumb back and forth over his bicep to try and soothe him.

“You don’t have to explain or justify anything to me, Pero,” she tells him, and it’s true. The admission that he’s paid for sex in the past neither surprises nor bothers her. Instead a shivery thrill runs through her at the thought that she could be the first person to ever do this with him.

“Do you want me to keep going? Do you want me to keep sucking your cock?” The innocent, questioning look on her face is at odds with her filthy words in a way she knows he likes. “Because I want that. I want to make you come with my mouth. Will you let me?”

Pero whimpers and his cock twitches in her hand. Barely has the word yes left his lips before Tessa leans forward to take as much of him in her mouth as she can. He brushes slightly trembling fingers over her cheek before sliding one hand into her hair, the other gripping the back of the couch to keep himself upright.

Tessa’s practically folded herself in half to do this and her quickly neck starts to hurt like a bitch but it’s more than worth it to feel Pero get closer and closer to his peak. She typically isn’t even a big fan of giving blowjobs, but she loves this, to be able to give Pero this experience, to see and feel and hear and taste this man come apart just from her hands and her mouth.

She digs one hand into the meat of his ass to urge him closer. Her nails leave little half-moon impressions and even though he hisses a bit at the pain Tessa feels him harden even further and she tucks that knowledge away to examine later.

“Tessa, angel, I - oh fuck - ”

The warm, salty taste of him fills her mouth and she hums in encouragement as she swallows it all. Pero shakes and sputters and when he’s spent Tessa drags her tongue in one final sweep up and over the tip of his cock before letting him go. She leans back and rests on her elbows, wiping her chin on her shoulder.

“You okay?” She has to bite back the urge to giggle at the slightly dumbfounded expression on Pero’s face.

In answer to her question he falls forward, catching himself with a hand on either side of her and crashing his mouth into hers. His kiss is rough and demanding but it also tastes like gratitude and trust and all the things Pero wants and feels and can’t find a way to say out loud.

Then he surprises her, shuffling himself down the couch and pulling her legs apart, his mouth mere inches from where she’s already starting to drip for him again. Tessa resists the urge to squirm away; Pero’s never given her any reason to feel self-conscious about her appearance - just the opposite, in fact. Still, he’s never had his face quite this close to her pussy before and she can’t help but be a little nervous about what he might think.

“I’ve heard tell of men who do this, too,” he says, “though it always seemed a far rarer thing than women pleasing men in such a way.”

“Still is,” Tessa mutters dryly.

“But I’ve thought about this,” he whispers against the skin of her thigh, his voice rough and cracked with the confession. “I’d always heard it spoken of as some wicked, forbidden thing, but every time I see your pretty cunt, angel, every time I feel how wet it gets for me, I can’t stop wondering - ” He closes his eyes, pressing his forehead against her leg, fighting against the internalized shame of admitting to such a desire, “I can’t stop wondering what you taste like.”

It’s a raw admission, and Tessa realizes she isn’t the only one who feels vulnerable right now. She cups his cheek in her palm, brushing gently over his scar.

“You’re welcome to find out,” she says, and there’s no humor or wit to it, only gentle permission, and he groans and tightens his grip on her thighs until it’s nearly painful.

“You will have to help guide me here, angel,” he warns, looking up at her with eyes grown dark and sharp with desire.

“I think I can do tha - fuck!”

Pero parts her folds with his thumbs and swipes his tongue in a broad stripe all the way up to her clit in a way that temporarily robs her of speech.

But after having him as her de facto sous chef in the kitchen lately it should be no surprise at all that he takes direction well, instantly responding to her breathy requests of a little higher up and you can go faster, that’s it and gimme your fingers too, please Pero, let me feel you inside me. What he lacks in experience and finesse he makes up for in eagerness to please. He grows bolder and more sure of himself as she drenches his face and fingers with more and more slick and her words eventually become limited to right there and oh god yes and don’t stop, Pero, don’t stop don’t stop -

He hitches one of her legs up higher over his shoulder and waits until she’s looking at him. Then he holds her gaze with a wry glint in his eye and gently runs his fingertips up and down the soft skin behind her knee.

It’s enough - the barely-there tickle along an erogenous zone, the rapid swipe of his tongue on her clit, and the stretch of his fingers inside her provide a combination of sensations Tessa hasn’t even realized she needs and her orgasm washes over her. Pero’s hand leaves her leg as he quickly slings his arm across her hips to hold her down as she comes with a wail, her release soaking him and dripping down his fingers. He doesn’t stop until he’s cleaned up every drop and she’s limply pushing him away.

He slowly makes his way back up her body, pausing to mouth at her breasts, laving at the damp, salty skin of her sternum.

Tessa nudges him further up so she can kiss him. It’s lazy and messy and slow, a soft brush of tongues and swollen lips and a sharing of tastes.

“So what do you think?” She asks, still a little out of breath.

“You will have to let me do that again sometime, angel,” he says, and Tessa lets out a weak laugh.

“Anytime you fucking want, Pero.”

He could go another round, his cock starting to harden against her thigh, but instead he gently settles most of his weight on her and silently revels in the feeling of her hands running idly up and down his back. She reaches up to comb her fingers through the curls at the base of his neck and it pulls a pleased rumble from deep in his chest.

They stay like that for a while, until at last the log on the fire has completely burned out and Tessa’s voice pulls him back from his half-asleep state.

“Pero?”

“Hm?”

“Let’s go to bed.”

He reluctantly disentangles himself from her and stands, bending down to gently scoop her up into his arms. She clings to his neck, nearly asleep herself, and he heads for her bedroom, whispering so softly into her ear he’s not sure she hears him,

“As you wish.”

Chapter 8.

———————————————————————

a/n: if you know what movie Tessa and Pero were watching, we are friends now. I don’t make the rules.

Also, a quick note about the end of this story: I know a lot of folks in their comments and reblogs have been anxious about the solstice deadline and whether Pero is going to stay or go and whether he and Tessa will have a happy ending or not. And every time I want so badly to say something in return about it, but I’ve been playing coy because I don’t want to spoil anything for anyone when they may not actually want to be spoiled, and also of course don’t want to prematurely give the endgame away regardless.

That being said! I personally avoid reading fics that have angsty, unresolved, or otherwise unhappy endings myself, so I get if some folks would actually like to know in advance how/if things work out. If that is the case, you can do one of two things: 1. Send me a DM and ask (I won’t give you details or anything, but I will give you the general vibes) or 2. Take a look at my masterlist. There is a pretty big clue in there as to the general nature of how this is story is going to end. 😉

#pero tovar x ofc #pero tovar fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #Pero Tovar #the great wall fic

[allisoooon]

Do you think one of the reasons Klaus made no effort to improve his relationship with Ben is because of his guilt thinking he kept him from moving on, and hoping that at some point, Ben would just give up on Klaus and finally cross over into the afterlife? Before going sober, Ben wasn't around as much, but after the time jump, they are literally on top of each other 24/7 and Ben is a constant reminder of his "mistake" as a kid. Klaus certainly seems to push Ben away as much as he can in S2.

This is where I feel like the biggest waste of Klaus was in s2. We find out about this guilt he's been carrying at the last possible second and have no information on it apart from the fact that it exists. That being said, I don't think this is some kind of "hurt him to save him" thing. I don't think that's something any of the Hargreeves siblings, save for Luther in s1, buy into. That was their dad's attitude. If you've decided you have the right to hurt someone, that's fucked up.

When someone goes through something traumatic as a child or adolescent, part of them tends to get frozen at that age. This is also something Shobert Reehan talked about in regard to the drugs--when you start, your development is interrupted. Klaus doesn't make an effort to improve his relationship with Ben for a few reasons. First of all, he didn't know he was about to lose him and was therefore on a deadline. Second of all, he's basically still a child. Children aren't great at conflict management. Finally, he wasn't the only problem in the relationship, and having been in codependent relationships myself, he probably saw Ben as most of the problem. As someone who was the codependent in those relationships, I strongly suspect Ben didn't see himself as needing to apologize for anything. He's accustomed to being the adult in the relationship, so his judgment is by default sounder than Klaus', so Klaus should do as he says--only, Ben also has no idea what he's doing, it's not his life, and his advice is unsolicited. It's all complicated as hell.

Also for Ben not being around much in s1, I'd put that down to the Law of Conservation of Detail. Justin Min wasn't a series regular and even his participation was kept on the DL until the series was released, since they wanted Ben's presence to be a surprise for fans. I'm sure Ben was around more than we saw.

#klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #tua #the umbrella academy #tua meta #ask answered

[mosylufanfic]

Hello! Since you’re accepting prompts what about rebelcaptain + 7 (from the kiss prompt list)? <3

Prompt #7 was ". . . to shut them up." It took me some thinking to come up with a version I liked, but here it is! You can probably say this is a sequel to the one a few days ago about pizza, if you wanted.

The Morning After

Shit.

Jyn peeled the covers aside, slithering out of the unfamiliar bed. The boy next to her sighed and shifted in his sleep, and she froze dead.

When he didn't show any signs of waking, she started pawing through the clothes strewn over the floor, mouthing curses to herself. Where the fucking fuckity fuck were her knickers? And of course her bra had tangled itself in his shirt like some kind of mad squid.

Hopping up and down trying to get into her jeans and t-shirt, she scrambled toward the door as quietly as she could.

She'd just yanked her shirt down and closed his bedroom door behind her when his roommate popped up like Lurch or some fucking thing. "Going so soon?"

"Shhhhhhh!" She pressed a finger to her lips, not that it helped at all. Kay was gloriously oblivious, especially when he wanted to be.

"It's considered rude to leave before your sexual partner even wakes up."

"Fuck off. Christ, this is a nightmare. I have to go."

Back in the room, Cassian opened his eyes and looked at the door.

-

She lived across the hall. When he knocked, she didn't answer. He would have suspected her of hiding from him except that he knew how small her studio apartment was, and how shitty the walls were. You could hear everything right through them. So she'd gone for some reason.

So. He'd wait.

He didn't have to wait long. She came back, laptop bag dangling from her arm. She was digging in her pocket for her keys when Cassian opened his door and said, "Kay's right. It's rude to leave before the other person is awake."

She whirled, gasped, and almost dropped her computer. She caught it halfway to the floor and stared at him, clutching it to her chest. "I didn't mean for you to hear that," she said. "I thought you were still asleep."

"Look," he said. "Obviously you regret what happened last night. Okay. That's your right."

She opened her mouth, but he plowed on.

"It's just that I really like you, and up until about half an hour ago, I thought you really liked me too."

"I - "

"No, please, I've thought about this since you left. Now maybe you reconsidered when you woke up this morning next to me. Maybe you were more drunk than I realized last night. But I wish that you had at least said goodbye, and maybe let me down easy, instead of sneaking out, because it makes me feel like -"

She let out a growl, grabbed him by the front of the shirt, and kissed him hard.

The last of his stupid, humiliating ramble died on his tongue.

She let go of him. "I had a paper," she said. "A final. My last one. Thirty-five percent of my grade. Thought it was due at midnight tonight. But turns out it was due at noon. Which, what the hell, right? What kind of complete psychopath makes a final due at noon?"

He blinked, looked at his phone. "That was about five minutes ago."

"Right! I had to run across the hall, get my computer, go down to the lobby, find that one spot where you can sometimes get wifi from the coffee shop, and turn it in before the deadline. I'm sorry I snuck out without saying goodbye, but I had about twenty minutes, max."

He blinked at her, the whole morning upending and reframing itself in his mind. "Did you get it in?"

She nodded. "I'd pretty well finished it yesterday. I was planning to do one last pass this afternoon, maybe beef it up a bit. But it's in. Prof can deal."

"So it wasn't because you had regrets," he said.

"God. No. Believe me, that's not the way I wanted our first morning after to go, either, but - " She shrugged as if to indicate that the best laid plans of mice and men and disorganized students gang aft agley.

"Our first?" he said. "So, does that mean you want more?"

She grinned at him. "That absolutely means I want more."

He took her by the waist and pulled her close, leaning down to press his mouth to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her laptop bag bumping his side only somewhat painfully.

He eased back after a few minutes. "Well. Now that we've got that cleared up, would you like to come to breakfast?"

From inside, Kay groaned very loudly. They both ignored him.

"Pop-Tarts and instant coffee?" she said.

"Oh, no," he said. "I'd already planned to make chilaquiles."

She looked interested. "What are chilaquiles?"

He crooked his finger in a come-hither gesture. "Come inside and find out."

FINIS

#Cassian Andor #Jyn Erso #rebelcaptain #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #NaNo prompts #college AU #neighbors AU #star wars

[manonblaqkbeak]

The Reunion

Day 5--I had completely forgotten that I had written this lol. It’s more fluff as usual. Can’t wait to read everyone else’s later on!

Enjoy! :)

1.8k words

Rowan couldn't wait to get home. Today had been...exhausting, to say the least. He was a personal trainer, and with that came the territory that people would talk about their issues while working out. Which was fine, Rowan understood that letting out emotional issues when working out helped people to stay motivated. He himself had been known to rant about his issues when working out himself.

But today had been a lot. One of his regulars had put on weight over the Yulemas holidays and was beating himself up over it. Another regulars marriage was over and was dealing with that guilt.  Someone had lost a favourite aunt. Another one had to break off an engagement because it was a loveless relationship. And on and on the issues piled up.

Rowan was good at compartmentalizing, but after a while, he ignored his lunch break in order to go to the park to just...not think for a while.

Being at the park cheered him up a little, but his break was soon too over. And he was back to work, and that was when the skies decided to open up and pour down buckets of rain. Making a bad day into a shittier one.

His wipers were on the fastest setting and he was driving at a snails pace when he looked away for one second, one fucking second, when he heard a thump and a feminine voice yell out “what the fuck!”

Slamming on the brakes, Rowan came to a speedy conclusion.

He was at a pedestrian crossing and he just hit someone with his car.

He just hit someone with his car.

“Fucking hell!”

Pulling up the handbrake, Rowan got out, not sure what to say or do when he came across a golden haired woman, her eyes spitting out blue and gold fire.

Rowan blinked at her, because despite being covered in rain and sitting on her behind, hand rubbing at her hip, she looked familiar.

But now wasn't the time to thinking about that. He had to see if she was okay. “I'm so sorry,” he got out, “I have no idea what happened. I looked away for a second, that was all. I'm so fucking sorry. Are you okay?”

“My hip and my ass hurt, and I suspect that I'm going to have a wicked bruise, but I think I'm okay,” the stranger said. “You should really watch what you're doing, though.”

“I know. I'm sorry, again.”

The stranger sighed, and even that sounded familiar. “What a fucking day I'm having,” she mumbled.

“Bad day?” He probably made it worse, too. He should also really get her into his car, but she starting ranting before he could do anything about it.

“The fucking worst. I'm facing a deadline that I can't finish, because I'm having dreadful writers block. My landlord is a fucking creep who came to my place today saying that my underwear 'accidentally' got mixed in with his laundry. My cousin's dad recently came back into his life, so now he's angry all the damned time and it's leeching into me. And you just hit me with your car.”

Rowan nodded in understanding, but only could manage to say, “Yeah, your day definitely sucks.”

She glared at him, silently telling him that that wasn't really the best way to respond, but he was having a bad day, also.

Which wasn't an excuse he knew, but Gods, it wasn't really his day either.

Rowan helped her up, her hands warm despite the cold and took her to his passenger seat and pulled over to the side. He couldn't help but notice that she smelled like jasmine and lemon verbena. A calming scent.

“I'm not sure what the protocol is,” he admitted after handing her a hand towel from the glove box. “Do we call the police? Or my insurance? I should take you to the hospital, I know that much.” Even if all she said was that she hurt her behind and hip, it'd be best to ensure that she didn't fracture anything.

When she said nothing after a moment, Rowan turned, noting that the silence from the woman was a little concerning, scared to death that maybe she hit her head and was going into shock.

Her blue-gold eyes were wide. “Are you okay?” he asked again. He really should get her to the hospital.

“Are you...? This is...you couldn't be. Rowan? Rowan Whitethorn?”

Rowan blinked, his concern turning inward. “Yes, that's my name. How did you—?”

“I, uh, it's me. Aelin Ashryver Gala—”

“Galathynius?” He finished for her. She nodded.

They sat in silence as Rowan stared at her, taking in her blue-gold eyes, golden hair, the lemon verbena and jasmine smell of her. Recalling the familiar sigh. All of it.

Rowan wanted to bang his head on the steering wheel when all of it came crashing down on him. He had just hit his high school crush with his car.

Rowan, for whatever reason that he couldn't name, wanted to laugh. He never would have suspected that he would hit Aelin Galathynius with his car ten years after high school graduation.

He was fairly certain that high school him had been in love with her from the moment he saw her. Rowan had wanted to ask her out at least a dozen times, but he was an awkward seventeen year old that didn't know how to talk to women that weren't family members and never gained the courage to do so.

It was one of his biggest regrets from his teenage years.

The last time he had seen her was at the after party of their graduating day. She wore a daisy flower crown and was sparkling in a golden dress. He had never seen someone as beautiful as her—even to this day.

Unbeknownst to Rowan, Aelin had felt the same way. She was confident back then as she was now, but every time she wanted to go up to Rowan to talk to him, to get to know him, the butterflies in her stomach threatened to strangle her.

So she never did ask him out. And here she was now, ten years later, in his car. He was still the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

She was still pissed as hell though that he hit her with his car.

It had only taken a moment, a single moment, for her to realise who it was she was sitting next to. The moment that the hand towel touched her face and she breathed in the pine and snow scent of it, she was transported back to the past.

“How have you been?” Rowan asked her after long minutes. His green eyes still as pretty as the day Aelin saw them. She was sure that was what she loved about him the most all those years ago. Other than Lysandra's, Aelin had never seen such a stunning green.

Aelin snorted, her fond memories disappearing at the inane question. “You were listening when I was ranting, weren't you? My day has been shit.”

Rowan gave her a small smile, and her heart skipped a beat. He still smiled the same. She had liked that about him, too. Still did, apparently.

“No, I mean how's life been since graduation? You mentioned writers block. Are you a writer then?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I write fantasy-adventure-romance novels under the name of Celaena Sardothien.” She had liked the animosity of it all, with none of her books containing a single photograph of her.

“That's amaz—wait. You mean to tell me that you're the writer of the 'Fireheart' series?”

Aelin smiled proudly. “That's me. Have you read them?”

“I have. It's one of my favourite series.” They were his guilty pleasure, really, but it felt rude to say that out loud, as if it was shameful.

Aelin blinked, taken aback at the confession. “Really? You mean to tell me that brooding Rowan Whitethorn reads romance novels?”

Rowan frowned a little bit at that. “I don't brood. Not anymore.”

“You're brooding right now.”

Rowan grumbled. Okay, maybe he was, just a little bit, however.

“How about you, though?” Aelin asked. “How's life been?”

“Busy. And right now, it's a bit shitty. I'm sorry for hitting you with my car, truly. We should get you to a hospital, though. Just to make sure that you're okay, please,” he added, when he saw that she opened her mouth to likely protest. “I won't be able to sleep if it turns out you need a hip replacement or something and I didn't take you to get checked out.”

Aelin truly doubted she would need a hip replacement, but nodded anyway. “Okay, you can take me to the hospital. And then afterwards, I'll give you my number and you can take me out to dinner.”

Rowan blinked at that and then smiled. He had always like confidence in a person. “Okay, it's a date.”

“I've never had a date after a hospital visit.”

“Well, then, I better make it great.”

Aelin smiled, warmth filling her. The day turning out a little nicely, despite it all. “You better.”

x x x x x

As Rowan lead Aelin to the dance floor, he couldn't believe his luck. Never in a thousand years did he think that accidentally hitting Aelin with his car would lead to this.

To their first dance as husband and wife.

It had been exactly one year to the day when he saw her again after ten years. It was very much an Aelin thing to want to have their wedding anniversary to match the date.

The story had been re-told by a slightly tipsy Fenrys as part of his best man speech, about how Rowan would be the only man in the world to meet his future wife by way of a car accident. The story always made people laugh, with people saying that the universe must have wanted to get them together and was sick of them taking too long.

Because as it turned out, when Rowan and Aelin's relationship grew and they learned more about their ten years of life, they were always somehow minutes away from running into each other. From when Rowan was starting his hike in the Southern Continent, Aelin had just finished hers and was going back to her hotel—the very fact that they were staying at the same hotel, but floors apart.

When Rowan had missed out on book tickets to a signing of her third novel in the Fireheart series, and he had to turn around and leave the bookstore since it was a private function just as Aelin was moments away from going on.

From going to the same concerts, to the same festivals, from seemingly everything that they had in common, they had missed each other by minutes.

They silently thanked the universe, even if the way they ran into each other was less than ideal. But they wouldn't change it for the world.

Rowan kissed his wife and thanked his lucky stars.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work

[miceenscene]

'tis the damn season

frankie/reader | childhood friends to lovers | pre-canon

wc: 1.8k/2.5k

summary: At one point in your lives, you knew Frankie better than anyone else on earth. When did that change?

warnings: none

an: don't let anyone tell you that second person doesn't work from another character's perspective, least of all yourself while editing

Masterpost | ao3

Chapter 2: Who am I Related to?

December 8, 2012 18:57

Hudson’s was a shitty bar just up highway 210 outside of Fort Bragg, the nearest watering hole to the base as the crow flies.

As a result, it served pretty damn near exclusively military personnel. When it changed ownership about four years back, the new management decided to reflect that and so the place looked like the Fourth of July and Top Gun had thrown up on it. Never mind that Fort Bragg was an Army base. Still, they had cheap booze and greasy food that was far better than the commissary, so it was always busy.

Pope had texted the usual suspects a few hours ago that he was heading to Hudson’s that evening, making Frankie immediately ditch his plans of drinking alone for drinking with Pope and whoever else showed up. Most likely just Benny and Ironhead now that Redfly had semi-retired down to Florida. It was a short drive to the bar from the dorms on base, but it was enough to make Frankie groan and press hands to his lower back as he got out of his car and made his way inside.

Pope was sitting at the bar and didn’t look up from texting on his phone as Frankie gingerly eased into the stool next to him.

“Hey, Fish,” Pope said, rereading the email.

“Hey.” At the bartender’s attention, Frankie pointed to Pope’s beer before daring a slight back stretch.

Pope sent his email and then looked over. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just finished PT.”

He chuckled once. “Back still fucked?”

“More tired than fucked anymore,” Frankie managed, shaking his head and wincing. The bartender delivered his beer, and Frankie took a swig. “When did we get old?”

“¿De qué estás hablando ‘nosotros’, viejo?”

Frankie jabbed an elbow and grinned slightly down at his next swig. “Culero.”

“Hey, before everyone gets here–” Pope looked at him, an oddly serious expression on his face for their usual bar. “I found out today you haven’t re-enlisted yet.”

Frankie immediately dropped his gaze to the suddenly very interesting glass in his hand. “Ah, no. No, I haven’t.”

“I’m trying to pull strings to get Benny into our unit full-time. I think he’d fit well with the team. Then Simmons tells me you haven’t signed your new papers yet. So what’s up?”

Frankie glanced over to see Pope still focused on him. “Nothing, nothing. I… I’m still thinking about it.”

He chuckled. “What’s there to think about?”

“We all want out someday, right? If we’re lucky enough to choose when we leave.”

“Yeah, but there’s thinking and thinking.” Pope smacked his shoulder. “What – are you gonna become a real estate agent like Redfly?”

No. Definitely not. Even just the idea of shilling condos was enough to make Frankie’s eyes glaze over. But still–

“Real estate agents make more money than we do.”

Pope made a considering face for a moment then brushed it off. “Yeah, but you’d miss it. You’re like me. We like the rush.”

Frankie nodded slightly. This is why he was still just thinking about it. It wasn’t a small thing to walk away from fourteen years with the Army. Especially since everyone knew the retirement benefits were absolute shit until you hit twenty. But he could already tell, he didn’t have another six years in him. He wasn’t even sure he had another deployment.

“You know the deadline’s New Year’s, right?” Pope said, cutting through his thoughts.

“Yeah, I know. I have some leave I have to take before the year’s out anyway.”

Pope nodded. “Good. Clear your head, get some perspective. See how fucking boring civvy life is, and then come back Jan 2 and join my team.”

Frankie smiled wryly; Pope always could make anything sound easy. “Something like that.”

“You have holiday plans then?” he asked, leaning an elbow on the bar.

Frankie sucked in breath. “I guess I’ll go back to my parents’. My mom’s been wanting me to visit for a while now.”

“How long’s it been?”

“I saw them in DC last summer, but I haven’t been back home… since I joined Delta.”

“Remind me where they’re at.”

“Up north. Little town in the middle of nowhere. Still in the same house I grew up in.” He could picture the wreath on the door, the twinkling lights his dad always strung across the front fence every December. A matching set used to be hung on the fence exactly opposite across the street. Who lived there now, he wondered. Would they put the tree in the front window too?

“Soldier coming home for Christmas. Sounds like a Hallmark movie.”

“Fuck you,” Frankie replied as the others finally arrived.

--

Frankie got his answer as he ducked out the front door of his parent’s house about a week later. His breath immediately fogged as he sucked in a few calming breaths of night air, the pressure in his head slowly levelling. Out in the still darkness, the noise level coming from the living room was finally manageable. Inside, with all of his cousins and his aunts and uncles and the music and everyone talking over each other and the heater set far too high for the number of people inside– he… he just needed a break.

Seven hours was a decent stint for his first day. He’d be around longer tomorrow. Wading in. That was the key. Because he was now the kind of person that had to treat time with his family like running a marathon. Apparently.

He walked down to the twinkling front fence, making a mental note to shovel the front walk tomorrow, and stopped. The house across the street – your house, as it would forever be in his mind – was completely dark. A small sign posted in the front yard announced some sort of home refurbishment company was going to be arriving soon. No doubt they would come in, strip away wallpaper and old tile and heart to paint it all beige and granite for the quick resell.

He hadn’t had the heart to ask his mother yet how long the house hadn’t belonged to your family. No need for another reminder of how much time had passed, how much he’d missed. He had more than enough already.

The front door opened behind him, casting a temporary warm glow across the dark snow, and his dad stepped out, pipe in hand. He meandered down the front steps to join Frankie at the gate, puffing a few times before speaking.

He shook his head. “It’d break his heart to see it so empty, but I understand why she sold,” he said, looking at the forlorn house with him.

“How long ago?” Frankie asked.

“Few months. Not too long after the funeral.” Dad looked his way for a moment. “I’ll give it ten minutes before I tell your mother you left.”

“I… thanks,” he replied weakly.

“Will you be back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be back.”

Dad nodded slowly, leaving just the pipe smoke wafting between them for a minute. “Take it slow, no need to rush.”

“Thanks.” He stepped through the gate, fishing in his pocket for his car keys.

“Francisco,” he said, making Frankie stop and look at him. “We’re glad you’re back.”

Frankie just nodded and went to his car. Even though he couldn’t bear another minute in the noisy press of his loved ones, the idea of going back to his lonely hotel room was truly abysmal. So after some finagling with the ignition, he started the engine and headed to the one bar he’d ever been to in his hometown.

--

There were Christmas lights in the window and a dancing Santa on the bar as Frankie walked in. Some sort of forcibly cheery holiday classic played over the speakers tucked between quirky memorabilia that hung over every square inch of wall space. And even though public smoking had been outlawed by the state well over a decade ago, cigarette stench had sunk into the very foundation of the place.

It was nothing like Frankie remembered. But it would do.

Eyes automatically sweeping across the moderately busy room for a Thursday night, he headed for a stool at the far end of the bar, ordering a beer when the bartender came by. It was just one step up from swill, but comfortably numbing in its mediocrity. He looked across the room again, checking for familiar faces this time and finding none. No surprise there. A decade was a long time, and really he hadn’t been around too much for the years before that too.

There were couples on dates here, friend groups, some sort of girls’ night happening in the corner, a few loners like him hovering at the bar. Most everyone was smiling, talking, laughing so hard their whole bodies shook. A whole world of Normal. And Frankie was a tourist.

Pope was right. He couldn’t go back to this. He couldn’t make it through one whole day with blood relatives anymore. What was he thinking? That he could just settle into a normal life like the last decade of his work was nothing? Get a 9-to-5 and a mortgage and a girl – not that he’d ever had too much luck in that department. Especially when there was one girl that eclipsed all others, and he didn’t even know her phone number any more.

The door opened, making the Santa on the bar dance, and every thought in Frankie’s head immediately stopped. His eyes drew wide as he stared, jaw barely restrained from slapping against his chest. Was it really – course it was, there wasn’t anyone else it could be. A whole century could pass, and he’d still know that face.

It was you.

Live, in the flesh you. Cheeks pinked from the wind, haloed by the street lights outside, wrapped in a truly astonishing number of woolen layers. Not a half-remembered fantasy, but Real and breathing and even more beautiful than his memory had claimed.

He watched you shake a few flurries out of your hair and stomp the excess snow off your boots, shutting the door behind you as you waved to the bartender. Your gaze swung across the bar, completely skimming past him, and landed on the girls’ night in the corner. You smiled. He stared.

You began to head over to the people you were obviously here to meet. On nothing but pure instinct, he immediately got out of his stool and followed you. Falling into step behind you, he stretched a hand forward to hook a few fingers inside your elbow.

You looked back at him, and for a heart-breaking breath there was no recognition in your eyes.

Till he gave you a half-smile and said, “Hey Bo.”

You blinked, mouth dropping open. “Frankie?” you asked.

He nodded.

Your astonishment ballooned so wide it froze your whole face solid for a moment. Then you laughed, out of far more shock than amusement, and gave him a smile all his own. “Oh my god!! You’re here!”

You immediately wrapped him in a hug. And though it took him a moment to return it, for the first time in ten whole years, he was home.

Chapter 3: Not my Homeland Anymore

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #my writing #ttds