#Space Caretaker for Hire!
Text
Spent the last couple weeks redesigning some of the characters for the game im making.
Designing aliens are always so fun since I can pretty much do with ever i want with them :}}
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
I feel like people often don’t talk about the experiences of disabled people who have caretakers because so much of the conversation is about us—not including us.
I receive in home care for 30 hours a week (+ 4 hours/week for respite). This is paid for by Medicaid (state insurance). Outside of paid hours, my primary caretakers care for me unpaid and assist me most of the time. I’m very rarely left alone due to my high support needs. Often, when I am left alone, I am completely bedridden or at minimum housebound. I have frequent emergency life threatening health problems, falls, and serious injuries even with support in place, and these things significantly increase when I’m on my own.
I’m extremely lucky that my paid caretakers are my partner, my sister (the only family member I have regular contact with, I’m estranged from the rest of my immediate family and most of my extended family) and my best friend.
I used to have agency staffing which was horrible for me and borderline traumatic. At several points, before doing the self directed care option (which allows me to choose my own staff, hire and train them myself and dictate hours for them), I opted to not have any staffing. I was regularly in the emergency room. I can’t drive, so I was having to walk and if I was lucky enough to be able to take the bus on occasion or get a ride from a Facebook acquaintance, they were few and far in between. I don’t have family support, and even my sister who is supportive wasn’t living in the state at the time and doesn’t have a car most of the time.
And before I could even choose which staffing option, even though medically it had been deemed essential for me to have in home care, even though my insurance covered it, I had to wait several years (I was 18 when I was approved) until I was 21 to qualify to start. The reason why: I was legally an “adult disabled child” because of my high support needs (which is funny because I STILL don’t have SSI at age 24) and thus legally unable to consent to my own care plan. I needed a blood relative to consent, and that same blood relative (who had to have proof of such!) couldn’t care for me. At the time, my sister was the only person who could’ve been my caregiver and also she is the only verifiable blood relative I have contact with for safety reasons, and my only relative on this side of the USA.
The first business day after my 21st birthday I immediately got things set up to get in home care.
This is out of date, I get assistance with more than just these highlighted ADL (activities of daily living) tasks now.
In short: my day-to-day life is entirely dependent on others.
And there’s power imbalances that exist between me and my caregivers, even with my current caregivers being amazing and anti-ableist. They will always exist. We talk about the power dynamics of me being dependent on them for my survival, and how heavy that weight can be for each of us.
Having caregivers often means that accessibility is extra difficult— I’ve been told straight up multiple times that I can’t have assistance from my caregivers to help me change in a changing room when we’re out shopping. That they can’t go into the bathroom with me, that they can’t help me get un/dressed during appointments, that they can’t come into spaces with me.
I’ve been denied access to psychiatric care because I can’t do my daily living tasks (ADLs- the highlighted items) independently. And when I’m in a hospital or emergency room, I can’t have my in home workers be paid to care for me, there’s an expectation that the nursing staff at the hospital will do it. Even though my caregivers were specifically trained to learn my body and needs for weeks and have been working with me for years. I have severe cPTSD and showering in front of a stranger is something I cannot do. I would rather fall or faint or get injured or just not shower than deal with that. But I’m expected to just let anyone have access to my body just because I’m physically disabled and need support.
When I faint/fall/get injured/have life threatening health issues arise while I’m not clothed, or when I’m otherwise vulnerable, I’m supposed to let strangers just touch me however they want to. I have to show them my chest (for my cardiac care) and let them poke and examine me. I can’t object without losing access to vital care.
I have agency. I have rights. I have autonomy. I deserve to be able to exercise these things.
#chronically couchbound#disability#disabled#disabled pride#cripple punk#cripplepunk#disability pride#high support needs#ableism#professional caregiver#activities of daily living#ADL#medicaid#healthcare#in home care#home care#home care aids#nothing about us without us
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
in which chilchuck tries to get some but ends up a sucker to his caretaker instinct once again
i just wanted to write something where chilchuck unironically indulges laios' hyperfixation, lol. im folding this into something larger but it kind of stands on its own for now, so here.
“Hey,” Chilchuck slurred. An arm crawled around Laios’ shoulder, stirring him from his reading. “What are you doing up? It’s my shift.”
“Just research,” Laios replied cheerily. His eyes were drawn back to the book and away from Chilchuck, something that elicited a soft huff of irritation. “I’ll still be good to take over for you. I’m kind of wound up, you know? Couldn’t sleep.”
“Yeah,” Chilchuck snickered, his hand brushing across Laios’ chest with just a bit too much pressure to be purely friendly. “I’ve been wound up, too.”
Laios met Chilchuck’s lascivious gaze with concern. “Are you starving yourself again? You wouldn’t have such bad insomnia if you ate well.”
“I got wine, there’s nutrients in that,” Chilchuck giggled, giving Laios’ tit a fond pat. Laios smelled the drink on his breath and the hair on his neck stood on end.
“On an empty stomach? Chil…”
“What you getting worked up for? I’m fine. I know what I’m doing.”
Laios’ brows furrowed. Chil stared up at him, waiting for him to back down, and the smug smirk only widened when he didn’t.
“You gonna force-feed me or something? I didn’t take you as into that kind of thing.”
“Knowing how depraved you are, you’d enjoy it if I did.”
Chilchuck scoffed. “Oh, yeah, you’re one to talk—”
Laios closed his book. “You’re being reckless,” he declared, in that know-it-all leader tone. Rarely used—Laios hated using it—but terse enough for Chilchuck to tilt his head and shut his mouth for a minute. Not long enough.
“Being a little tipsy doesn’t mean my eyes and ears don’t work,” Chilchuck groaned, pulling away and slumping onto the next step up from the one he was perched on. “It’s not my job to fight them anyway. All I gotta do is throw the bottle at your head and I’ve done my part.”
“I’m not talking about the party, Chil.”
Chilchuck shrunk away from Laios and crossed his arms.
“When did you become such a nag?” Chilchuck groaned. “I’m older than you. I know my limits.”
Laios turned from his seat on the floor, rising on his knees, invading Chilchuck’s space. He braced his arms on either side of Chilchuck’s lap.
“Do I have to say why?” Laios rumbled. “If you don’t want me to care, stop making passes at me.”
Chilchuck clucked his tongue. “Didn’t have to hit on you to get you to take a few quills to the back for my bony ass.”
“So much for never talking about that again.”
Chilchuck grinned. Laios’ eye twitched, knowing that Chil knew he’d taken the bait. Chilchuck reached up to cup Laios’ face; Laios let him, unfortunately.
“You can relax, big guy,” Chilchuck said, and the softness in his voice made Laios deflate all at once. “I got by just fine until you hired me. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I want to believe you,” Laios murmured. Chilchuck could feel the muscles of his jaw working as he spoke, the weight of his heavy tallman skull in his palms. “I do. But you don’t know—"
“I’m fine,” Chilchuck asserted. “What’s got you so…?”
He stopped, bit his tongue. Laios looked up at him with those insufferable, upturned puppy dog eyes, deep amber in the low firelight, and he remembered. Chilchuck let out a long-suffering sigh, stroked up his cheek into Laios’ hair and scratched his scalp.
“We got this,” Chilchuck said. “It’ll be alright.” Laios slumped forward into Chilchuck’s lap, thick jaw slamming down onto his legs like a harpsichord lid, and Chilchuck squawked. Laios turned his face into the loose-fitting, threadbare slacks Chilchuck normally wore to bed, sucking in a long breath that made his back rise and then letting it all out through his nose. It reminded Chilchuck of Leed’s wargs after a good dinner, resting their big, wrinkly heads on any friendly knee and whining for attention.
Chilchuck scratched at his sideburns. He knew propositioning Laios would be risky in the dungeon, but this wasn’t the kind of disaster he’d envisioned if it went wrong. His hand came to rest on Laios’ back, and he rubbed it along the length of Laios’ spine. Laios’ broad body sunk that much further into his lap. Chilchuck’s calves were going numb, but he held deathly stll, as if he’d scare Laios off. As if he didn’t want to scare Laios off and get out of this mess.
“We’ll find Falin,” Chilchuck said. “We did it before, and we’ll do it again.” Neither of them believed it, really, but it was a nice thought. Maybe if they chanted it enough a spell would be cast. No mana sickness yet; they’d have to keep at it.
“I’m pretty confident about that,” said Laios, muffled in Chilchuck’s legs. His breath puffed warm on his thighs in short, controlled breaths. “But if we do and we don’t get her, if the Mad Mage takes care of us, then—it’s not just Falin, anymore.”
Chilchuck’s breath caught. His fingers curled in Laios’ shirt and tugged fitfully. Laios didn’t budge.
“She used to be all I had, you know.” Laios hugged Chilchuck’s pins-and-needles calves, which further trapped him but also returned some level of blood flow. Small blessings. Chilchuck wished he were dead. “That was fine. It was—better that way. Less to worry about. Then I found a nice girl, and I proposed—"
“Wait, what?”
“—she was so cute, so nice to me, but when my father said Falin would have to leave, I couldn’t just leave my little sister to rot somewhere, so—I broke it off. It didn’t matter, if I could earn enough money and Falin would be okay—”
Try faking a heart attack. You have the plausible deniability. “He… sent Falin away?” He was dimly aware of Marcille and Falin having met at magic school. “You were supporting her?”
“—but I didn’t even—need to. She was happy where she was. And I still—I still dragged her here, let her get eaten, let the Mad Mage take her. What kind of brother—”
Chilchuck gripped the back of Laios’ skull and pulled at his hair, not enough to move him, but enough to shut him up. He let go and ruffled it instead, soothing out the tension in his scalp. Laios melted, limbs melting to the stone tunnel floor.
“I see why you’ve been so wound up,” Chilchuck said. “You’ve just been sitting here and spiraling. Are you even reading that book?”
Laios squeezed Chilchuck’s legs to his chest. “Not really. I’m looking at the words but I’m not… retaining anything.”
That’s bad. “Let me see it.” Laios looked up at Chilchuck with confusion, then distrust. “Please?” That only confused Laios further, but he lifted the worn old tome from the floor for Chilchuck to take.
“Dragons of the Eastern Archipelago,” Chilchuck read out. “Another cookbook, eh?”
The jocular tone whiffed right past Laios’ ears. “It’s… not really research,” he admitted. Chilchuck thumbed through the pages—there were many detailed technical sketches of long-bodied, short-limbed dragons with horsehair and deer antlers, strange boggling eyes and stretched lips. More impressionistic doodles filled the margins, with scrawled-circle eyes and jagged teeth, little flared scratches of the broad side of a pencil representative of dragon fire. Their fat snake bodies had wobbly, uneven sides and sloppily looping scales—but some were a little more distinguishable as a dragon than others.
“Ah.” Chilchuck cleared his throat. “Nothing wrong with a little light reading, I guess.” He tried on a smile. “The, uh, pictures are nice.”
“I kept telling Falin that long don’t breathe fire,” Laios said, voice tight, “but she kept saying it would be cooler if they did.”
“That’s what they’re called? Longs? Seems kind of on-the-nose.”
That managed to get a laugh out of Laios, but it sounded more exasperated than anything. “It’s just one of the native words used for them, but it’s not Shuro’s language, apparently. The word he uses is ryu.”
“I haven’t seen anydragons other than red and green. Maybe it’s just the dungeons I’ve been to.” Chilchuck said. He winced, realizing he’d just stumbled over a lecture topic, but Laios stayed folded across his lap, seemingly having gotten comfortable there, and stayed quiet. The silence made Chilchuck’s hair bristle. Chilchuck nudged him, knuckles against Laios’ temple.
“C’mon, man, I set you up. Go on.”
“Now you’re just making fun of me.”
“Seriously, Laios. I really want to know this time, and you’re gonna sulk about it?”
Laios turned up from his lap to read Chilchuck’s face, though he never seemed to be able to get it right all the other times he’d attempted it. Chilchuck heaved a melodramatic sigh and patted Laios’ head, an action that lowered his hackles. It really shouldn’t have worked that easily, but Laios closed his eyes and hummed.
“There are… so many kinds,” Laios said dreamily. Dread began to creep in on Chilchuck’s charitable mood, but he’d talked himself into a corner. “They’re super adaptable. Pretty much anywhere you have a dungeon or an ecosystem robust enough to support one, you can find a dragon.”
“I’ve, uh, heard about white dragons. Furry ones, kind of like these guys, but with wings and the stocky body type. Never seen one, though, so it could have been bullshit.”
“Oh, they’re real. Pretty common up north.”
“Do they really breathe ice? How does that work?”
“Basically, yeah. It’s super-cooled air. They have huge lungs and a fuel organ like a red dragon, but instead of burning the waste matter inside, it liquefies it into a kind of slurry—” Chilchuck grimaced, but Laios was already talking with his hands and not measuring Chilchuck’s enthusiasm. “—that undergoes a rapid chemical reaction when exposed to the air the dragon exhales.”
“Huh.” Chilchuck absently stroked the back of Laios’ neck. Laios squirmed, but didn’t complain. He slipped out of his kneeling position to sit flatter against the wall, head still flopped over Chilchuck’s lap but looking outward toward the fire. The angle looked uncomfortable, so Chilchuck dropped a step lower, letting Laios slide over just a bit more, lay more solidly in Chilchuck’s lap. Laios’ ears had turned red. “Y’know, I always just figured magic did it. I never knew any of the biology until I met you.”
“You wouldn’t be wrong for thinking that way,” Laios half-shrugged. “They wouldn’t exist without some kind of mana source, so they’re still a product of magic. But to sustain the kind of huge, complex bodies dragons have on mana alone would starve the ecosystem, so they have to develop organs and bones to keep them upright and moving to serve their purpose.”
“To destroy whatever enters their lair?”
“To survive.”
“Same as the rest of us, then.”
Laios hummed. Chilchuck’s wrists had begun to hurt from holding the book, so he propped it up on the crown of Laios’ skull. He didn’t seem to mind.
“So what’s this big pearl they keep drawing the long dragon with?” Chilchuck asked, even though the answer was right beneath it, indicated helpfully in a list of figures.
“Oh, that’s an egg, believe it or not.”
“No kidding.”
“Dragon clutches start out pretty big, but because of how demanding the hatchlings are, most of them don’t survive to adulthood. Some species of dragon choose a ‘favorite’ out of their eggs to focus on and raise instead…”
Chilchuck smiled into the palm of his hand as Laios rambled, flipping through the book to keep his eyes open as Laios talked, listening as the spaces between words grew and his tangents unspooled, dissolving into dreamlike nonsense. The weight of Laios’ head got heavier in Chilchuck’s lap until the static crept back in, but Chilchuck had no intention of moving him anymore. It was well past the scheduled watch shift change by the time Laios began to softly snore, but Chilchuck didn’t rouse him.
99 notes
·
View notes
Note
is it possible for a Carol Danvers x reader where Reader is a new caretaker of the baby flerkens/kittens and sometimes asks Carol tips since she looks after Goose while this is happening Kamala ships it and asks Kate to help her ship set sail and the two of them tries to be like spies like the Black Widow siblings but fails and in the end Carol has the guts to asks reader out but Kamala and Kate has to do training about stealth as punishment?
this is so cuteeee ahhh
love the flerkens with all my heart so i'm so excited to write this <3
it'll actually be the first carol oneshot i've posted!! (despite writing hundreds and hating all of them lol) so thank you for requesting bestie <3333
sorry it took so long but here you go :)
pairing: Carol Danvers x gn reader
summary: taking care of baby flerkens is scary. That's for sure. But would such a positive outcome of getting a date with a pretty superhero be enough to make you stay?
a/n: love the ask, hate my writing. just like always.
carol is wifey tho so we chill.
You wouldn’t exactly say your job is superhero important, but taking care of thirty kittens who can open up their mouths and swallow you whole at any second has its own set of risks.
It started with you going to visit the vet place you used to work at as a doctor before leaving to pursue other interests. You’re still close friends with the rest of the vet’s there, so you go and visit when you have time. While you were there, your friend Maggie had been telling you about some girl that came in with thirty cats, which surprisingly, has been seen before. That wasn't why this lady was remembered in the office so well. It was because the kittens kept eating workers, just to spit them back up perfectly fine- well maybe a little bit covered in saliva- about an hour later.
When Maggie described the woman, an older blonde woman that had manners, was accompanied by two young girls that wouldn't stop getting on her nerves, and had fists that glowed when one of the girls accidentally ate a dog treat that was shaped like a cupcake. The woman's name was Carol Danvers- a superhero you and millions of other people were familiar with- and her friends, Kamala Khan and Kate Bishop.
Fun day for the office, and you could only say you wish you’d been there to see it. The smirk on your friend's face was one you see quite often, one she only has when she’s planning something.
So that day, you left the vet building with a piece of paper in hand, one that had a messily scribbled out phone number. Carol’s number. She’s looking for someone to take care of the flerken kittens while she's at work, and she was so happy to hear back from someone that she hired you without even asking to see your credentials.
That's how you find yourself here, chasing around one of the kittens with a treat in hand. Kamala, the sweetest angel, was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now she’s in the wrong place. I.E, one of the kittens' stomachs. As Carol explained it, whatever goes in their mouths aren't technically in their stomachs, just in a pocket of time and space that starts in their stomachs. At least, that's what you thought she said. You were too busy watching the way her arm muscles flexed in the tank top she was wearing while she was hammering a nail to connect parts of the giant bed she’s building for the kittens.
Suddenly, as you get into the kitchen with the cat still several feet in front of you, somebody chuckles and leans down to catch the meowing animal before it can escape again. It’s Carol, dressed in her usual attire of slightly baggy jeans, an old band t-shirt and converse.
She holds the cat up but it’s armpits, facing him away from her and in the opposite direction of you before she says, “give her back.” That’s all it takes, and then the kitten opens it’s mouth and spits out Kamala.
You’re barely paying attention to the girl gasping for air on the floor though, instead you’re watching Carol's cute smile as she nuzzles the cat and then sets him back on the ground. “How’ you do that?” You start, trying to get your breathing back to normal. “I’ve been trying to catch him for like an hour.”
“Yeah, that was a really long time!” Kamala chimes in, but neither you nor Carol are listening.
“I learned from Goose that if you show disappointment in your voice, they’ll let ‘em go. Weird, but effective.” The blonde says before she goes back to cooking. “I’m making lunch. You want some, honey?
You find yourself turning crimson at the nickname, about to say no thank you before suddenly Carol is speaking again, panic in her voice. “I mean do you want honey! In the tea! That I haven’t made yet. Not you honey! This honey!” She holds up a honey container shaped like a bear to prove her point.
Kamala smirks, awkwardly winking at Carol and mouthing the word, “Smooth!” before the superhero finally just shoves her out of the room.
You sigh, nodding your head before grabbing the baby flerken and making your way out of the room. It’s obvious she doesn’t feel the same way and you shouldn’t be surprised. Why would a superhero like her fall for…you?
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Carol Danvers is madly in love with you.
You don’t know that, of course. But she is.
It’s why she’s here, panicking in the kitchen after accidentally calling you a nickname. Someone snickers behind her, and without missing a beat, she throws a rag towards Kamala’s head. “Shut up. That sucked! What is wrong with me? The blonde pleads, and Kamala’s eyes soften even though her tone is still teasing as she says in a sing-songy voice, “You like them.”
“No shit sherlock. Of course I like them. Have you seen their smile? And the little laugh they do whenever one of the flerkens eat something? Or-”
She’s cut off by Kate barling into the kitchen, Goose in her arms and training suit on. “What’s going on?”
“Carol’s telling us about her crush on the flerkins caretaker.”
“Ooooo! Are you gonna ask them out?”
“Can you two shut up?”
“No. I totally ship you guys!”
“Fine. How about this, if you don’t shut up and let me handle this, I’ll make you do 48 extra hours of training over the course of the next two weeks. That's almost two extra hours a day.”
They shut up.
It’s not like she doesn’t want to go out with you. That would be amazing. But she hasn’t had a relationship in years. Well, there was that little situationship with Valkyrie but we don’t talk about that!
Point is, she doesn’t know all the proper dating etiquette nowadays. Should she take you to dinner and a movie? Ask your kin if it’s okay? Recite poetry?
The two younger girls notice her spiral as she leaves the kitchen, making them feel sorry for their friend. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Kate asks with a smile.
Kamala is silent for a minute before she says, “We should go to the store and get Goose to steal ice cream sandwiches for us because we’re poor?”
“Later. Right now, I think we need to help Carol get a date.”
“I don’t know about this Kate. It’s clear she doesn’t want our help.”
“Wow. Since when did Kamala Khan not want to meddle? It’s like your favorite activity.”
The young girl sighs, petting Goose before she says, “You’re right. Carol needs our help and it’s going to take serious meddling.”
So, with that idea in mind, they come up with a plan. As superheroes, their main job is keeping people out of danger. It’s what Carol also does on a daily basis. If they can put you in a dangerous situation, Carol can swoop in and save you.
It’s why they went to the store and got 2 pounds of butter, melting it over the stove before dumping it all over the living room floor.
Just because they’re superheroes doesn’t mean they’re smart.
Then, they hide behind the kitchen counter, heads peeking over the side that makes it obvious it’s them.
You open the front door, back from your lunch as you call out for the baby flerkens. You stop in your tracks when you see the butter, eyes darting around the house as you call out, “Carol?”
She comes running in, successfully slipping in the butter before you can catch her. Kamala and Kate gasp from their hiding spot, hiding their heads again when Carol narrows her eyes towards them.
“Are you okay? Do you need help?” You say, but she just shakes her head with a grimace. “No. I’m fine. Go on. The kittens are in my room.” With a hesitant nod, you walk around the pool of butter with your crush smack dab in the middle of it, then into the hallway and towards her room.
Carol takes a deep breath while closing her eyes, deciding to lay in shame and butter. Kamala and Kate quietly get up from their hiding spot, taking her moment of silence to escape this situation. “Three hours of extra stealth training tomorrow. A punishment for this and because I don’t know how the hell you two become superheroes. And please….for the love of god….clean up the fucking butter.” The blonde mumbles with her eyes closed, the younger girls grabbing each other's arms as they hold in a groan and continue trying to sneak out despite the fact they’ve already been caught.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
After a quick trip to the grocery store for ice cream, Kamala and Kate spend all night watching movies, eating, and coming up with a new plan to make their ship sail.
Carols a good cook, having had to learn how when she got tired of eating packaged space food on her ship. You don't get home cooked meals a lot, so maybe they can invite you over for a dinner so that you and Carol can have more time to talk about things that aren't work related.
You easily accept their invitation with the idea that Carol knows you'll be there, so its a bit upsetting when you show up and she frowns in confusion. "Hey. Did you forget something?" Carol questions when she opens the front door to see you.
"Um....no. Kamala and Kate invited me for dinner? I figured you knew." You say with a frown of confusion, and she lets out an annoyed sigh that for a second your kinda scared is pointed towards you until she yells, "Kate! Kamala!
They jump up from behind the couch, the nervousness clear in their eyes. "Oh hey Carol. We were just hanging out."
"Behind the couch?"
"Yup. This is our....meeting spot. How'd you not know that?"
The blonde stares at them for a minute before she snickers. "That's another hour of stealth training. Leave the spy stuff to Yelena and Nat from now on girls." You’re still confused about what's happening, but in the end just decide to leave it be and come inside with the dessert you brought.
Carol follows you into the kitchen, thanking you for the treats with a bright smile. “I already ate, and I have to do some repairs on my ship, but I’ll see you tomorrow alright?” With that, she leaves, once again squashing any hope you ever had of starting a relationship with her.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
The next day, you show up at the house to take care of the flerkens like usual though something feels off. The air is more tense, and there’s not laughing going on from some dumb joke Kamala told like there would usually be. It’s always been such a fun, energetic home. Right now though, you feel like you’re in a library and have to stay quiet so a 100 year old librarian doesn’t come and tell you to shut up.
After a awkward run in with Carol in the hallway while you’re on your way to the flerkens room and she’s on her way to make breakfast before leaving packing her bags for the week long job she has to go on in space, she walks into the kitchen were Kamala and Kate are sitting at opposite ends of the table. They’re on their phones, both texting someone.
They’re texting each other about a new plan, but Carol doesn’t need to know that.
“What’s this?” They finally look up from their phones when the blonde speaks, her tone bitter and confused as she holds up a takeaway coffee cup with someone's phone number scribbled messily on it. It’s not her phone number, and it’s not one of the girl’s ethier.
“I don’t know. It’s something your little crush brought in. Said something about the girl behind the counter at the coffee place hitting on them.” Kamala chuckles, fighting the urge to roll her eyes when Kate begins to hit her arm repeatedly.
The archer takes a moment to compose herself before she says in the most casual voice she can muster, “Seems like you missed your chance.”
Carol’s eyes finally move away from the cup to look at her younger friend with wide eyes. “You really think so?” Kamala smiles knowingly and hums. “Yup. I do.”
You come into the kitchen with a flerken in your arms right at that moment, not exactly reading the room as you grab the cup from Carol’s hand and smile. “Thanks captain. I was looking for that.”
You begin to make your way out of the room, but she gently grabs ahold of your wrist before you can so you turn around to face her. She’s nervous, you can tell that by the way her hand absentmindedly draws stars on the counter and she uses her other hand to tap the beat of the Star Wars theme song against her thigh.
“You okay Carol?” You ask with a small chuckle, reaching over to put your hand over the one drawing stars which only seems to make her more nervous.
Kate coughs then whispers, “Chicken.” Carol narrows her eyes at the giggling pair at the table, point towards the entryway to the kitchen. “Out.”
They grumble something about her being a big baby as they leave, but you have a feeling they don’t get very far.
“So I was thinking.” She starts.
You snicker before saying, “That’s never good.”
She groans, playfully shoving you away. The joking helps to ease her nerves a little, and she can finally look you in the eyes as she speaks. “I was thinking….that if you’re free, and you want to, we can maybe….go out to dinner together? Like more than friends? Only if you want to though! I totally understand if you don’t want to and I guess this might have been a little too-” Your laughter cuts her off, but it doesn't help her nerves.
“What's so funny?” She tries to awkwardly giggle as well.
One look at her face is all you need to go silent.
“You’re not kidding?” The question comes out as more of a whisper. Her stomach churns as she shrugs. “Not really.”
You think about it for a minute before asking, “You like me?”
“I really, really like you. But it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I totally understand.”
She watches as a small smile forms on your face, then changes to a cheshire cat grin. “I….I would love to go out to dinner with you Carol. Because I really, really, really like you too.” With that, you pull her into one of the tightest hugs she's ever gotten, her arms hesitantly wrapping around your waist to bring you even closer.
You guys stand there in silence for a few seconds, just enjoying each other's embrace before she suddenly calls out and is followed by loud groans and your laughter, “Girls, I know you’re in the hallway. That’s five hours of stealth training. Really, how have you guys saved cities?"
bonus:
Carol: And me? Oh, I'm 60 years old.
Kate and kamala: damn!
Carol: ……
Kate and kamala: ……we’re sorry.
78 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have seen quite some people being confused about what was Charlie's plan or what he even intended to do, so here is the proper step by step explanation:
P.S : all of this is based on the show, nothing is influenced from the novel.
•Before (kind of) meeting Babe:
As Charlie had mentioned in ep 7, something I had stated before in some other post, his plan was not that extensive. Charlie while being in Tony's space came to know about all the shit he does including babe being the number one target and how Tony had an Enigma going after Babe. He jumped in thinking he would keep an eye on Tony while living with Babe or around babe and would find information about that Enigma too. He wanted to do everything alone but much to his concern,Jeff wanted to help. Anyways. His plan was to be around babe, keep on track with tony 'cause he knew he would find better information of what he is trying to do if he is near babe since babe is the target, find out about that enigma and eventually inform babe about everything when the right time comes. His plan was not to fall for babe or make babe fall either. It is his natural caretaker instict that made him want to save babe. He can't just live his life knowing that someone was in extreme danger. A part of me now believes he was not even supposed to take babe's powers either. He didn't know that babe would hire "boys" to have sex with, that's why he recommends him being his servant, 'cause his plan was to leave later when the time comes, and being "servant" would serve the purpose of being near Babe, BUT was genuinely taken aback when babe wanted to have sex. He was now worried 'cause how is he supposed to be intimate with babe without taking away his powers??? That's why he hesitated before touching babe, remember when he first put his hand on babe's face, he hesitated right there, he also gulped. He was worried and concerned, rather panicking 'cause he knows what happens when he touches. But the entire show is literally, "you can't have A and B, one has to go", so Charlie either had to leave or stay. Telling the truth was not the option 'cause babe wouldn't listen. Babe during that time was being heavily influenced by way, so why would he even think Charlie was telling the truth about his intentions? 'cause atp he was a literal stranger to him.
•After ep 7:
Charlie's plan was severely ruined by Kim, unintentionally, but it did happen. Kim revealing Charlie's main secret disrupted the whole plan. Charlie was not supposed to tell Babe all that before anything happened 'cause the result will be disastrous and we saw that. For babe, along with way 's hypnotism/manipulation, Charlie's secret/lie was a "betrayal" 'cause he didn't know the cause of it until Charlie told him. Here the plan was, when the right time would come, he would have revealed everything 'cause by then Babe would have first handed seen/witnessed/understood the reason, but this reveal being so soon, with the cause being so unclear made Charlie look like a traitor. That's why he had spill everything, every detail. Here, we see something else as well. Charlie had fallen so deeply for babe until now, he could not bare the thought of babe hating him, misunderstanding him. That's why he repeatedly goes after babe, to his very home, to let babe know the truth. He even tells everything about the absorption. He knows babe may never want to see him again, that's why he gulps and hesitates before saying. Babe could have never found out why his senses were gone, but he can't keep babe in dark anymore. If the truth was out, he needed to clear thing out, to atleast let babe know, Charlie would never take advantage of him. When babe turns his back, we see Charlie being terrified, he doesn't even look like that near Tony. He is TERRIFIED babe would hate him. So the hesitation, those unshed tears, the "I can die for you" 'cause AT THAT MOMENT, he was like fuck the plans, if babe wants his powers back, he will get it. Since the truth is out, and he couldn't still find the enigma, atleast let him give back babe's powers, 'cause babe is his priority. And Babe refusing that made Charlie give that genuine smile. It's the way Charlie has this relaxed face when he hugs babe, it's the face of someone who has been misunderstood for so long, finally having someone love him, understand him. The face of relaxation that his love doesn't hate him, would not leave him.
•Fake death:
This one came out later. When CharlieBabe started fighting together, now Charlie openly being able to protect babe, Jeff says if they continue to do that, they all will be killed. Listen, this was Jeff's analogy, he thinks that if they continue to go after tony, they all will die a brutal death. He also tells Charlie that Tony would kidnap him. This "kidnap" thing confirmed that Tony's target has been successfully shifted from Babe to Charlie. But Tony doesn't know that Charlie's powers are absorption and that he can return the powers once dead, so he, for the first time, gives complete responsibility to do something/prepare something that would help him fake his death. He wanted Jeff to look out for this, maybe because he knew since Jeff ran away before, he has some connections 'cause how or where did he live during that time?? Also he just wanted to protect babe, keep him safe and comfort him especially after whatever way did and we all know he blames himself for not doubting way before.
•After "Death" :
With the help of the drugs we see Charlie not only removing his powers but obviously being able to give babe's powers back. But babe going after Tony as a form of revenge is definitely something Charlie got to know through Jeff. One thing is clear that when Jeff gets kidnapped, Charlie calls him too, as usual, maybe to inform him that "uncle" is babe's dad and since Kenta had given away the phone to those boys, definitely they picked up, and since they picked up they definitely informed Charlie how they got the phone. Obviously Charlie connects the dots and goes in to save Jeff, but I believe when he entered the building the first thing he notices is Babe being beaten up, and Charlie being Charlie, enraged that they hurt babe, immediately jump in to save babe, that's why the look he had when he looked at Babe had concern but also grief and guilt, a "fuck I missed you sm", so in my opinion, even this sudden meeting was not a part of the plan. (Obviously the next ep has more information or may be not, so either I am right about this or absolutely wrong lmao)
Jeff and the timeline of his future sightings:
This goes like this:
Now, I remember someone saying how Charlie wanting to "change" future makes the future happen. And that's something interesting to think of, but that's not it. Charlie did not "Change" the future, he "Altered" it. Playing with time is dangerous, so the outcome maybe the same, but the cause can be different.
The "Death on Racetrack" car which was overturned was number "83", exactly the car Charlie was in, BUT in that vision, we all see the person laying face to the ground and blood everywhere. But that's not what happened to Charlie. If Charlie was the one who was supposed to be in the crash, in the "83" car, then the result and cause of THAT accident was different.
Babe going to avenge for Charlie would have been constant but the cause was different and most definitely the result would be. In the vision, we didn't see Alan, we do see CharlieBabe, with a gun pointed at them, but we see Tony with a sword attacking them, killing jeff. We also see Winner killed and Babe crying wounded. Don't know if the last two would happen, and if does what's the cause? But one thing is sure, that the result is altered. In their version, there is a shootout, and Kenta is the one who caught Alan and Jeff, we also see Pete and Way being involved. The future is unchanged, but Charlie's plan to alter it does infact work, he changes a version where they all loose to where they all can survive, where there is a hope to survive.
Also the "kidnap" thing, that would have happened, but in their version, they stated the plan to Tony, thus manipulating the outcome.
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
(Undertale AU) Earthsecret (a.k.a Generation Swap)
I know some else had an AU called Earthsecret but I wanna draw attention to the word HAD. Anyways. Earthsecret! An cool name for what is basically Undertale Generation Swap. The premise is simple, every main character swaps with some one close to them that´s from a past generation. For example, the current royal scientist, Alphys, swaps with the past royal scientist W.D Gaster, and so on with others, ofc, there are some odd balls for some choices but they are there because they have connections with the role of the character they are now in.
Roles:
Frisk <-> Kris (reason: they are both the protagonists in Toby Fox´s games and have a close relation with the Dremurr and Hoilday families)
Flowey <-> Noelle´s Angel Doll (Reason: Because Asriel <-> Noelle, ofc)
Toriel <-> Rudy (Reason: They are both very close with the respective children of their families fulfilling the role of the caretaker and housekeeper)
Napstablook <-> Seam (This one is the first odd ball in the bunch. Reason: They both have a nihilistic careless nature and because the mini bosses swap with the secret bosses)
Sans <-> Grampa Semi (Reason: Semi is implied to be Sans and Papyrus´ grampa, I based him on Sans and Paps´beta design. He´s a journalist and detective for hire)
Papyrus <-> Muttler (Doge) (Reason: Even if this one doesn´t make much sense I choose to swap Paps with this world´s first canine unit member and current protector of snowdin)
Undyne <-> Gerson (Reason: Gerson was the past Royal Guard captain, it makes sense that Him and Undyne would swap)
Mad Dummy <-> Jevil (Third weird swap. Reason: They both share a ballistic erratic nature and also a relation with the person in Napstablook´s role)
Alphys <-> Gaster (Reason: Gaster was the royal scientist before he was shatter between time and space. Now he´s alive and Alphys fell in the CORE)
The Amalgamates <-> The Gaster Followers (Reason: Because Alphys <-> Gaster, ofc)
MTT <-> Spamton (Now this one makes a lot of sense taking in mind the previous mini bosses swap and Gaster´s role. I won´t elaborate much, you can make an image in your mind)
Asgore <-> Mayor C. (Reason: They both share a powerful and politic position in their respective game, where, they are both closed and moor the loss of a child of theirs)
Asriel <-> Noelle (Reason: They both have an important role in their respective games narrative and even if it would have more sense to choose Dess for this, I think Noelle is better)
Chara <-> Dess (Reason: Both mysterious meta characters on their respective narratives. We know so fewer of them and that is enough for me to swap them. They are the cursed kids of their families)
https://www.deviantart.com/redybearsart/art/Undertale-AU-Earthsecret-1013476557
#deltarune fanart#au undertale#undertale fanart#underswap#noelle holiday#kris dreemurr#wd gaster#jevil deltarune#utdr
41 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! Wishing you luck with the rest of your semester 💖
idk if I’m too late to send a request.. sorry
The idea of Cody and reader walking together in a meadow or like a garden together has been rotating in my head for a while. Anything along those lines would make me cry honestly— I know it’s a fairly vague idea but anything you write is always wonderful <3
Love you <3 have a nice day
thank you so much!! i hope you like this, i think i left a little bit of my soul in these words 🥺
words: 959
summary: while hiding away in the gardens of the jedi temple, you find a kindred spirit in the marshal commander of the GAR.
clone troopers masterlist
Two Souls, No Longer Lost
No matter what was happening in the rest of the galaxy, you could always count on the peacefulness and tranquility of the Jedi Temple gardens. Plants you could never name that hailed from planets you would never visit surrounded you as you sat down on the stones that marked a path around the space. Tucked away in this quiet corner of Coruscant, you had the permission of the galaxy to just exist for a few moments at a time, with nothing expected of you.
Working with the GAR was a rewarding way of life, because you enjoyed helping others, but there were times where you felt stifled, times when you wondered why you chosen to enlist in a war knowing that you would likely lose all of the soldiers that you had grown close to. Losing friends in battle never got easier, and you couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for the clones, who were not only losing friends but brothers, as they trudged on alongside their remaining family.
No one knew that you liked to spend your time here. You were sure that the Jedi had to be able to sense you if they wanted to, and no one had told you to leave, so you weren’t worried about that aspect. You were sure that they had to know, or at least Master Yoda knew, especially since your visits to the gardens always lined up to when the 212th battalion was on leave.
Now, sitting on the smooth stones that made up the paved path and staring at two small bugs as they climbed up the stem of particularly bright and colorful flower, you wished your whole life could be like this, and that maybe you should see if the Jedi Temple would hire you as a permanent caretaker of the garden.
You were so lost in thought that you barely registered the sound of someone saying your name, and it wasn’t until the third time that they spoke it did you turn. Commander Cody was standing in front of you, helmetless and having shed the top half of his armor. Leave was good for him, you immediately decided, as you noticed the way his smile looked just a little bit softer and his eyes a little less tired.
“Cody!” you said, not able to hide the confusion from your face. “How did you find me?”
“I wasn’t looking for you,” he admitted softly. “Is this where you disappear to every time we’re on leave?”
You nodded, and Cody sat down beside you. The two of you stared for a few moments at those colorful flowers as they swayed through the air, and eventually you broke the silence. “If you weren’t looking for me, why are you here?”
“I’m not sure honestly,” he said. “I was feeling overwhelmed at the barracks.”
“Well, here is a good place to just exist for a while,” you said. “I can take you on a tour of the garden if you’d like.”
Cody hummed softly. “Maybe in a little while,” he said. “Right now I’m happy where we are. Why do you sit on the ground and not on the bench right over there?”
You laughed as you glanced back at the sturdy looking bench behind you. “I don’t know,” you said. “I just always have.”
A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, and even though neither of you voiced your emotions, you knew that he was feeling the same things that you were. It had to be amplified for him, stuck fighting in a war that he didn’t get to choose to be a part of, to lead a battalion of his brothers knowing he was bringing some of them to their deaths. How hard it was to be the one that survives, especially when you feel that you don’t deserve to be the lucky one who lives to tell the tale.
It started as a natural thing, the way you leaned your head on his shoulder, and he barely even questioned it. Although your relationship with the commander was never as close as it was apparently growing to be, you felt easily the most comfortable around him, and you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that wanted to kiss along the scar above his eye, to love him in a way that he deserved to be in a world that was free of war and hatred.
You were just drifting off to sleep when you felt him gently tap your shoulder. “Do you want to take me on that tour of the gardens now?” he asked.
The hopeful look in his eyes was not something you ever wanted to dim, so you nodded and the two of you stood up, hand in hand as you pulled yourselves off the ground. Stars, you wanted to hold his hand forever if he would let you.
You didn’t know what most of the plants around here were called, so you made up funny names and pretend facts about what planets they came from, and each time you made Cody smile you felt like the world got a little brighter.
There was always hope, no matter how divided the galaxy became, no matter how much you wondered if you were truly doing the right thing. And for you, that hope’s name was Cody and he had the sweetest laugh you’ve ever heard.
Maybe one day the war would be over, and you could build a future with him. But that was a far flung hope intertwined with a unimaginable dream, and so these little moments walking hand in hand and admiring the flowers in the Jedi Temple Gardens had to be good enough for now.
- the end -
#2023 spring ficlets 🐝#commander cody#commander cody x reader#commander cody fanfiction#commander cody x you#cody x reader#commander cody x gender neutral reader#clone wars fanfiction#clone trooper x reader#star wars x reader
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
Random dance opinions
1. Conventions should allow 1 free parent/caretaker for each mini and junior (honestly all minors). Kids that age do still need their parents and it's also a major safety hazard to leave children unguarded in a room full of strangers (especially knowing btf's history...). I think it's morally wrong to charge people for looking after their kids.
2. Yagp should encourage juniors (12–14) more to perform on flats. Many people in that age are still not ready to perform whole variations en pointe but they do it anyway because you kinda "have to" because that's the norm
3. Esmeralda tambourine and Grand Pas should be strictly for seniors only. Esmeralda because it requires so much charisma and maturity to perform, Grand Pas because it is so hard (I know more than one case of dancers getting injured because of it)
4. People are wayyy too nitpicky on Molly and she's actually ones of the less problematic popular studio owners/teachers out there. Club = owned by a trumpie (and also supporter of blue lives matter); Space = actively hires Mark Meismer and tries to hide it; Larkin = Chelsea and her sex offender pedo husband; Stars and MBA = known for body shaming
Now the more random ones
5. I'm no expert but I think some of the contemporary entries should definitely be under lyrical
6. I don't like Expressenz productions at all. Sorry but I don't like 100 dancers on the stage and I don't like their choreo style in general
7. DM opinion: fans were far too hard on Kendall, yeah she cried a lot but she was a sensitive kid and on a reality show set?? I would've cried too
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Alternative text for this -
Super: 'Hey can i get your number?'
Nova, visably texting: 'I dont have a phone'
#the blue one is Nova the yellow one is Super and these are characters from a game im making with some other developers ✌️#SCFH#Space Caretaker for Hire!#original art#comics tag#comics#artists on tumbr#belleskiart
21 notes
·
View notes
Note
So in the Governess AU imagine Sophie entering the miz as the new nanny since the old one retired or something and all these three ladies now have to whack away the ABC brothers with a stick because DAMMIT WHY WON'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE???? (and they really don't want to get fired cause its hard finding a good job with good employers these days) but the brothers are relentless running on love and a shared braincell (and making up outrageous and miniscule reasons to be in the Hastings Estate)
Meanwhile Daphne has half a mind to matchmake and the other half wants to tear her hair out because damn it her brothers are trying tonseduce their best employees and ANTHONY, BENEDICT AND COLIN DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO FIND COMPETENT GOVERNESSES AND NANNIES?????
I was waiting for someone to bring Sophie in. I think with Sophie Daphne would have hired her as a ladies maid, or future ladies maid, for Amelia. Daphne seems like the type to preplan and possibly over plan. But until Amelia officially needs one Sophie helps Kate and Penelope as like an assistant maid to the nursery.
Daphne: Simon, I have found the perfect ladies maid for Amelia!
Simon: But Amelia isn't even one yet?
Daphne: Oh hush. She can help Kate and Penelope until then. After all it will be a few years until they start their governess duties.
So now we also have Benedict acting a fool for his sister's employees and he probably be worse. With Kate and Penelope's positions it's common they were of middle class or high class birth due to them be educated so Anthony and Colin would have to have some tact. Meanwhile Benedict got no idea of Sophie's birth station and would be pulling the be my mistress thing.
First time Sophie tells Kate and Penelope about that Penelope has to hold Kate back from going to beat Benedict's ass. NO KATE WE DON'T WANT TO GET FIRED! THINK OF THE CHILDREN!
Kate huffs but sits back down in their shared living space.
Daphne is torn, Kate, Sophie, and Penelope are her best employees and the children love them. But she has never seen her three older brothers with that lovestruck look in their eyes. She also doesn't know if opening that can of worms would do any damage to Kate, Sophie, and Penelope. She doesn't know their official backgrounds, the names she has officially written down on their employment contracts are Kathani Sheffield, Sophia Beckett, and Penelope Anne. She suspects Kate and Sophie either use their mother's maiden names or fake last names. While she's 85% sure Penelope uses her middle name as her last name. It was not uncommon as to either hide their birth families from the whispers of a working daughter, or hide themselves from their families.
Daphne isn't sure which it is but she's accidentally overheard the three giving each other language lessons in Hindi, French, and Greek. So she knows all three had enough care to be given some sort of education.
The real challenge for ABC is actually Simon and Daphne's hoard of children. Auggie, Amelia, Belinda, Caroline, and eventually David, adore Kate, Sophie, and Penelope. They don't want them leave. Are their uncles trying to steal them away? Oh no, they can not let that happen! Time for cuteness overload to distract their caretakers and cockblock their uncles!
#reason I used sheffield as kate's fake last name is just a fun call back to the book#and i'm pretty sure kate wouldn't give a fuck if whispers circulated that the sheffields had a working daughter/granddaughter#the saphne kids vs abc uncles for the affections of ksp#bridgerton#kathony#benophie#polin#governess au
49 notes
·
View notes
Note
fellow kepler enjoyer here. Pls share your headcanons!! & plug your fic! I’d love to check it out!
Ok first off, here is the fic! It’s a post-canon kepler lives au that is mostly about him actually learning how to be a person and living with what he’s done. I update slower than god but I do update
This fic is full of my headcanons which (in no particular order) include but are not limited to:
- Kepler is not his real surname. He changed it shortly after starting at goddard as part of a process of reinventing himself
- he has a younger brother; younger by about 9 years, who he was the primary caretaker of when they were growing up since their parents were so busy with work most of the time
-he grew up poor and doesn’t like to remember it. This is part of his fascination with certain symbols of refined status later in life
-cutter recruited him straight out of high school. This is part of why he took so long to see how bad goddard was and how much he hated it, I think. Something of a sunk cost fallacy. He was in denial that he would’ve sunk so much of his life into something that ended up failing him so completely. And also, if he were to leave, where would he go? With no college degree and practically no job experience since soon after being recruited the job he was doing was off the record and somewhat illegal, who would hire him?
-when Kepler first approached Jacobi, the flirtation was intentional and manipulative. He knows how to keep people loyal. With Maxwell, all he really needed to do was give her the space and respect she needed, but Jacobi wouldn’t thrive with space. He craved attention and approval, and Kepler was well aware of the effect he would have. It was just little taunts and touches at first. He doesn’t know when he started doing it just to touch him
- Kepler makes some very good soups and stews. And he has a frustratingly wonderful singing voice
#i have some nsf/w hcs as well but we’re just going to throw those in unprompted with the rest of the bunch#van talks#wolf 359#warren kepler#kepcobi#long post
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Parents letting their 12 year olds play VRChat is almost the same thing as leaving them alone in a shopping mall, they will scream, bother people, break stuff, be tormented and exposed to danger. If the kid wants to play set a playdate or something just don't let them roam free
Idk man, make sure the children are only in private instances with other people their age and some sort of guardian like an older kid to supervise them, I DONT KNOW hire VRChat nannies or something that will follow ur child around in public instances and keep weirdos away (this doesn't exist but I'm onto something here)
Leaving your critter free is bothering adults and making them exposed to groomers and NSFW, and no even if they know that porn is bad and stranger is danger THEY SHOULDN'T BE NAVIGATING THOSE SITUATIONS
I say this as someone chronically online that had to take care of my friends because of this kind of shit, I feel like we completely forget that children needs a caretaker to stop them from being little shits (AND PROTECT THEM GODDAMIT)
VRChat is a replica of reality, and in reality if you leave a child free they may walk into NSFW spaces and situations!!! There's no moderation to take care of the child!!!! THE MODERATION IS SUPPOSED TO BE YOUU
I know that this is unrealistic and that no one reading this is even going to be a parent I just see so many ways of letting a child use the internet safely and I need to write this down somewhere, let me rant 😭
Anyways if someone wants to hire me as a VRChat nanny I won't complain ✌️
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thank you so much for this wonderful ask, @frostbitebakery (and sorry for somehow losing the original message)!!! It was a treat to get to reflect on this. I love most of my children mostly equally most of the time, but I tried to pick five fics (one each from five ships) that have a special place in my heart.
Citation Needed (MCU, Stony), co-written with @festiveferret
Professor AU where Tony is a history prof trying to track down an obscure reference to “Project Rebirth” while also avoiding the irritating new hire in Fine Arts, Dr. Grant. I can honestly say this is the most fun I’ve had writing a fic: collaborating with Ferret was a delight and a dream, the worldbuilding was a really exciting puzzle to put together, and I got to write some punishingly niche jokes that I will admit still make me laugh.
Longing (MCU, Sambucky)
In which Sam gets pulled into a memory machine and Bucky goes after him. This fic was such a stretch for me in so many ways: technically, characterologically, emotionally. One of my goals was to explore some of the moments (canon and extra-canon) that make Sam into the character we see in TFATWS. It was the first time I really felt like I'd gotten possessed by a story, and it's still stuck very deep in my feels. There's a sequence in chapter three, starting with the moment in the desert, that felt like an absolute sprint of joy to write.
Recollection (The Clone Wars, Codywan)
Or, Purge Trooper Cody and the Eternal Sunshine of the Reconditioned Mind. Speaking of stories that stretched my abilities, I had laughably little idea how complicated this fic was going to be to orchestrate when I conceived of the idea. It was a juicy challenge for my brain and also a tough challenge for my heart, because I fell into a new level of love for Cody at the same time that I was putting him through the wringer. One of the best parts of the experience was how many moments surprised me - like the final line of dialogue in the bunk sequence in chapter three, which I did not have in mind at all when I started writing the scene but ended up being one of my all-time favorite lines.
Aller-Retour (Andor, Melshian)
a.k.a. 5 times Melshi and Cassian helped each other return from a mission + 1 time they helped someone else get started. The cliff scene in episode 1.11 of Andor took me out at the knees, and this fic gave me a chance to explore what it might look like for Melshi and Cassian to keep holding each other up during their years in the Rebellion. The scenes of caretaking not only fulfilled my personal, insatiable need for hurt/comfort but also gave me a space to process something I've been working through in all of my Melshian fics: what it looks like to love someone in the face of losing them.
When the Time Comes (Top Gun, Hangster and Bradley & Mav)
a.k.a. 5 times someone held Bradley + 1 time he held someone else. This is the most personal fic I’ve ever written, and I honestly did not expect that to happen with Top Gun, but grief is a strange beast, and I truly loved writing this.
---
Thank you again, for the ask, Frost!!! This was really fun to put together. <3<3<3
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
@skyloftian-nutcase fanfic, for your Healthcare AU? It's more likely than you think.
I hope it's ok to post it and tag you like this ;;;; that one post yesterday got my brain goin. I hope its not too out of character for your boys or too off base on the situation lol
--------------------
The staff section of the cafeteria had been cleared of tables and filled to the brim with CPR mannequins, gym mats, and a small army of staff in various locations around the space.
A few, like Wars and Time were pacing through with other educators brought in for the training exercise. Others sat, stood, or laid with index cards; acting out or reading off their cards to the handful who were on their turn for acting as triage and treatment.
"Oh oof ouch, I am dying. My sats are unreadable. Oh no," Legend deadpanned from the blue mat on the floor while one of the hospital's newer hires rocked from foot to foot above him.
"Don't panic, breathe," Time raised his voice a little over the din of the emergency preparedness practice.
"And- and check the leads if they are there? And- or call a code for help?" Time nodded and the new hire ran through the motions.
"Cool, alright Wind, so what is the next step?" Twilight grinned and pulled the young respiratory-therapist-in-training's attention back to the scenario at hand.
"Oh, yeah. Geeze, it's pretty loud and busy."
"Emergencies tend to be. You don't have to get it perfect, that's why we do the course."
"Right," Wind nodded and rechecked the card with the scenario information, "well then, uh, little mister bus crash. Your arm is probably broken and my what big bones you have for a second grader."
"Ha-ha. Take it seriously, please."
"I am. Reading the room, this kid wouldn't take kindly to coddling and lying from what I've heard. Plus it's not a red level emergency so-"
Wind laid Twilight's arm on his own legs on top of his folded up sweater. With slow and purposeful movements he held the hand still gently with one of his own, while the other went for the splinting materials in one of the tubs to the side.
"Your arm is going to get a, uhm," Wind furrowed his brow when Wars and another one of the course leaders walked by, "special jacket that'll hug it and help make it feel better until a doctor can get you a cast."
"My card just says 'inconsolable crying', I'm sure you can imagine what that is like."
"No, no Twi- do it right!"
Legend was propped up on his elbow staring back at the two of them, oh so casually sipping his energy drink while his caretaker was tearing through the provided bins and listening to Time talk them through their panic.
"I'm not taking advice from an unconscious body with an untraceable rhythm that is somehow sitting up and drinking that crap."
"For all you know I'm asleep with detached leads," he stage whispered before slurping obnoxiously.
"I'm going to tie this here and here to help make your arm feel better," Wind half shouted over the other two.
Twilight flipped his behavior card around to show both Wind and Legend the underlined block lettering saying 'inconsolable crying' and shrugging.
Wind rolled his eyes and the motion took his whole head lolling back on his shoulders in exasperation. Legend, the bug, just snorted. Then, of course, Wars looped back around to watch.
"Okay, one knot," Wind spoke as he continued, "and two. How brave! Quick, Legend! Wiggle your fingers!"
"Wha-"
"Flex those fingies! C'mon!"
Legend flexed all of one at Wind's smiling face.
"Watch it!" Twi shouted before catching the glare from Wars. "Thats a swear finger. Tsk tsk."
"That's right! You should show him how to properly wiggle your fingers, kiddo," Wind, to his credit, avoided the patronizing tone most of the others put on when working with younger patients.
Sneaky Wind, trying to score extra points. Twilight lifted the splinted arm ever so slightly and wiggled his fingers in a little wave at Legend. One knot slipped and pinched his arm between it and the splint.
"Good use of age appropriate distraction. Mind the location of the knots on the cravat," Wars smiled and made a note on the clipboard he carried.
"Thanks. Patient is breathing fine, and I'm guessing you still standing here is like, another doctor showing up to take over? Or that I just did enough? I'd still try to sling it for real though, right?" Wind asked.
"Yes, a bit of both. If this was a true mass MVC once you got to this point and had the child safe and supervised, I would suggest you move on to other patients after retying the knot to avoid pinching. Sorry to shove you along so fast, looks like you're all having a great time but we need to keep this moving. Here is your next patient, over there."
Wind took the paper slip and his eyes followed Wars' motion. He slapped his palm into Twilight's hair and gave it a thorough messing-up before moving on.
"Watch it-!" Twi called after him, undoing the splint and resetting the bins for the next waiting person.
"Legend," Time's voice, a warning.
"Okay, okay!" He laid back down, "Ah, oof. I am so unconscious. My breathing is shallow, it's there but shallow, ok? You don't need to crack my ribs for real this time."
"Worst actor, isn't he?" Wild dropped off another bin of equipment and handed Twilight a new stack of cards for the next scenario before moving on to deliver other equipment to the different stations.
#lu in healthcare fanfic#skyloftian nutcase's AU#questionable medical accuracy#not as questionable as the other one i want to try writing some time but that is questionable on purpose#if u want me to take it down or send it to u via ask instead or anything just let me know!!#i just am having a lot of fun reading your au and thinking about it#and learning stuff too. medical stuff is something i dont think i would ever be tired of reading or learning
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rating: 4/5
Book Blurb: A grumpy, rich recluse meets his match in this steamy Beauty and the Beast retelling—with a Succession twist. Fans of fairy tale adaptations, and readers of Julie Murphy and Falon Ballard, will adore Mae Bennett’s debut romance.
Bellamy Price has just been offered the job of a lifetime: lead contractor on the restoration of the mysterious and sprawling Killington Estate. If she meets the owner’s ridiculous timeline, she’ll finally make a name for herself in this male-dominated industry. But when she rolls up her sleeves, slips on her suspenders, and shows up at the crumbling mansion, Bellamy finds the estate very much occupied.
After a traumatic car accident that left his parents dead and himself injured, Oliver Killington, heir to the Killington empire, took up residence as the grumpy caretaker of his grandfather’s mansion. None too pleased by the presence of the hammer-wielding woman who’s moved into his house, Oliver tries to block her at every turn.
But when Bellamy discovers Oliver’s facing his own ultimatum from his grandfather, the two form a cautious truce, which leads to flying sparks that are definitely not from faulty wiring. As Bellamy restores the gleam to the Killington Estate, she’ll have to decide if the walls she’s built around herself are worth knocking down to make space for someone else.
Perfect for fans of Tessa Bailey, this clever, steamy debut novel will have readers rooting for this Beauty and her Beast until the very last page.
Review:
A modern day Beauty and the Beast retelling with a touch of Succession, featuring a grumpy rich recluse and the sweet contractor who was hired to restore his estate... without his knowledge. Bellamy Price comes from a reputable contractor family and she dreams about making her place as a contractor, so when she is offered the job of a lifetime: to be the lead contractor on the restoration of the mysterious Killington Estate, she can't pass it up. If she meets the absurd timeline, she'll establish her name in the industry. Yet the moment she enters the house it is clear the owner of the estate did not expect her and was not looking forward to her staying. Oliver Killington is the heir to the Killington empire and blames himself for his parents deaths and he is now injured and living as a recluse and being a grumpy caretaker to his grandfather's mansion. Oliver wants to stop Bell yet the more time they spend together the more sparks begin to fly. Bell has had her heart broken and is afraid of staying and giving her heart to this man... but maybe this time... she's built her own true love in Killington Estate. This was a really cute modern day retelling and I had fun reading it. It's got spice but it also has sweet moments and it was a really fun way to reimagine the classic story. I would definitely recommend this for fans of fairytale retellings!
*Thanks Netgalley and Alcove Press for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let’s call this one feeling some things out.
Agatha Harkness/Eve Fletcher
Eve has never once liked these calls. She usually hopes that the seniors will be able to keep their wits about them until the end (even though she knows from experience this isn’t always the case) or that their caretakers – children, spouses, grandchildren, someone – notices the slippage of their mind before it gets to this point. It’s worse when it’s someone who used to be so well respected at the center, who has slowly but surely turned into a raving, ranting, raging rascal.
She remembers meeting Evanora Harkness for the first time, remembers how soft the older woman’s hands were, the prim way she smiled, and that she always smelled faintly of olives and roses. The more she slipped, the less the roses – all olives, all brine, all sharp, harsh tang. But Evanora had been one of her first seniors – not one who had been visiting the center before she was hired, but one who started visiting right around the time she’d gotten her first job. Evanora had even still had her wits about her when Eve became first the coordinator and then the executive director. She’d thanked her.
Looking at her spitting, seething, scathing felt like she’d lost something, although she didn’t know what.
Evanora’s daughter, Agatha, is almost Eve’s age, and when she looks at her, Eve can see just why Evanora used to say Eve reminded her of her daughter. But Agatha is stronger than she is. When Evanora begins to spit out curses, Agatha covers her mouth – Don’t be so rude, Mom. They don’t deserve that – and Evanora bites through the back of her hand, drawing blood.
Eve bandages Agatha’s hand after Evanora is moved – for her safety, for theirs – apologizing ahead of time when she pours hydrogen peroxide on the cut. Agatha hisses through clenched teeth, hisses again when Eve places a soft pad atop the cuts and winds gauze tight around it. I’m sorry, she says, although she has done nothing wrong, and when her gaze lifts from Agatha’s hand to her bright blue eyes, she sees another wound there that she cannot touch.
Agatha curves her hand in Eve’s and then gently raises it to her lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. For being so kind to my mother, she says, when she has never once deserved it.
For a moment, Eve wants to say that she doesn’t understand what Agatha is talking about – Evanora has only ever been kind to her – but she hesitates, noting the pain in Agatha’s eyes again, and she keeps those words to herself as the beautiful young woman leaves her office, finds her mother, and disappears.
~
When Agatha’s spouse, Cian, dies a few days later, Eve wants to reach out but feels like that’s not really her place. It isn’t like she’d known Cian, and her only real relationship with Agatha was centered around her relationship with Evanora. They weren’t friends. They didn’t really know each other. She felt like she would be invading some private space.
When Evanora dies about a week after that, Eve musters her courage and goes to the funeral. Partially due to the friendship she’d had with Evanora herself, but also partially to support Agatha during her time of loss. It’s the nice thing to do. The right thing to do.
(Of course, being unable to get Agatha’s eyes out of her mind doesn’t help at all. She has been unable to see any porn with women whose eyes are that shade; whenever she does, she just thinks of Agatha, and that’s not fair to a woman who had just lost her spouse. She doesn’t want to be objectified that way, so she doesn’t want to objectify Agatha that way either.
But she wonders, sometimes.)
Eve sits in the back of the funeral home and hopes that she won’t be seen. She walks up for the visitation afterwards, thinks about saying something to Evanora, and instead ends up just placing her hand atop where the older woman’s have been posed clasping together. Then she turns and sees Agatha, standing alone – Evanora’s only remaining child, unaccompanied by the spouse who should have been standing with her – and can’t stop herself from going to her. Just as with Evanora, Eve places her hand on Agatha’s, notes the rough scabs from the teeth marks Evanora left in the back of Agatha’s hand, and says, soft, I’m sorry for your loss.
Agatha glances up, meets her eyes, and offers her half of a twisted smile. Thanks for coming, hon, she says without a hint of strain to her voice. She would have appreciated that.
Almost – almost – Eve says, I’m not here for her, but that wouldn’t be quite correct. Instead, she gives Agatha’s hand a gentle squeeze and says, even softer, I’m not just here for her. She hesitates, considers, but doesn’t act.
You’re a sweet gal, Agatha says in a tone that suggests she doesn’t believe that one bit, and she leans forward the way Eve didn’t and kisses her cheek.
Thanks for coming.
~
The text comes a few hours later, when Eve is sitting in her bed, a video from her new favorite genre of porn playing in her lap, fingers poised just so, and she pauses for it – it could be an emergency, after all.
Meet up for drinks?
Then, two seconds later: This is Agatha. You gave her your number?
Eve blinks. She had given Evanora her number once, many years back, when she’d been events coordinator. Evanora had known some people who might have been helpful for speaking or crafts. She’d known a lot of people, had a lot of connections, and Eve hadn’t seen any problem with lending out her number if it meant it would help the center. If anything, she’s surprised she not only still has it but that Agatha has been able to find it so easily.
That she’d wanted to find it.
She sends a quick text back – Just tell me where! – and forces herself to hold, the way she’d seen some of the women order the others in her videos, until she gets the answering text. It’s only then that she allows herself to return, to finish, and surprises herself when she finds that she doesn’t need the video anymore, that she doesn’t even turn it on.
~
Eve expects Agatha to have invited other friends of hers and is surprised to find the other woman sitting at the bar alone. It makes this feel a little bit like a date. (She’s not sure if she wants that or not. A part of her aches for it; a part fears hurting Agatha by assuming.)
Agatha drinks rum, scotch, whiskey – a lot of things in a very short order – and for every shot she takes, she offers one to Eve. Sometimes, Eve drinks with her. Others, she doesn’t. She knows her boundaries, and she doesn’t want to go drink for drink with someone whose stomach is apparently much stronger than Eve’s has ever been.
They talk – Eve tries to bring up the funeral, how Agatha must be feeling, but Agatha shuts that down quickly. She doesn’t want to think about that. She doesn’t want to think about any of it. Instead, Agatha asks about Eve’s life – what it’s like to work at the senior center – and when Eve speaks, she listens.
You’re really strong, babe. Agatha lifts her glass, knocks back another shot. I don’t know that I could be around all those old folks just to see them die.
Eve looks into her glass. You never get used to it.
Agatha searches her face and smiles somberly. No, she says, I don’t believe you do.
When Eve finally places her glass down and Agatha orders her another glass of wine with ice (Two, she says, with a wry smile, before turning back to Eve; because I just have to try it), Agatha reaches for her old glass, licks the tip of her finger, and begins to run it around the outer rim, sending a soft, sharp note ringing in the air.
Oh, wow. Eve stares at her. How do you do that?
It’s simple, dear. Agatha takes Eve’s hand, wets her finger with her tongue without thinking, and then slowly moves it around the lip of the glass. You just have to find the sweet spot, and then—
The same note rings out, but Eve isn’t paying attention to the note.
See? Agatha says, pulling her hand away from Eve’s as Eve continues to idly pull out the same note. It’s not hard. You’re a natural, super star. Her bright blue eyes flick up to meet Eve’s, and Eve has a hard time swallowing.
This really feels like a date. Her heart pounds a little too hard in her chest. It’s probably not actually a date. That’s probably all of the porn videos talking, where anything and everything can be an excuse for sex. Even just a meeting at a bar. They’d probably title this something to do with grieving widow has the sadness fucked out of her or something like that, but in more…porn terms. Lots of XXX or MILF or…something like that.
When the wine gets there, Agatha lifts her own glass in a feigned toast, clinks it against Eve’s new glass, and then takes a sip before making a face. This is horrible, babe.
Eve reaches across for the glass. If you don’t like it, don’t drink it!
But Agatha pulls away, holding it to her chest. No. This one’s mine. I like to finish what I start.
Eve licks her lips, bites her lower lip, and then nods once.
~
Agatha calls her a taxi, even though neither of them are drunk.
Eve feels a rush of warmth.
Agatha bends down close to her, and Eve thinks, Well, this is it, then, and leans up to kiss her.
When Agatha freezes, tenses, Eve realizes she has read this entirely wrong. She pulls away, wraps her arms around herself, and apologizes. Profusely. Multiple, multiple, multiple times. She tries not to look up, to see Agatha’s shocked face, and turns to walk away. It isn’t like she lives that far. She can walk home and then come back for her car in the morning. It’s not like she has work or anything.
She doesn’t even make it a block before she feels a hand on her wrist, and she turns with wide eyes to see Agatha behind her.
Agatha gives her a wry smile. Come with me, hon. Then she tugs on her wrist.
In spite of herself, Eve goes with her, a little bit scared but mostly curious.
When they make it to an abandoned alleyway, Agatha glances left and right before pushing Eve up against the nearest brick wall, pressing one hand flat against it, and kissing her. She pauses briefly, searches Eve’s eyes, and asks, voice soft, This okay with you, babe?
Eve nods wordlessly. Then she finds herself pressed harder against the wall as Agatha takes her lips roughly, desperately in her own. She likes to think that she gives as good as she gets, but Agatha is in another league. Eve pushes her hands through Agatha’s jacket, grabs the inside of her shirt, and clings to her, pulls her closer to her. Agatha grabs her ass and squeezes until Eve can feel her shorn nails through her pants, and when Eve moans into Agatha’s mouth, she can feel the other woman smiling against her.
You like that, hon?
Again, Eve nods wordlessly. She doesn’t know what else to say.
Tell me what you want, Agatha murmurs as she traces her nose along Eve’s neck. Tell me. She kisses her neck. What. Again. You. Again. Want.
Eve breathes heavy and forces herself to speak, but the word comes out somewhere rough and rasping, More.
More of what, doll?
Everything.
Agatha smiles against her neck before biting down, hard, where Eve’s neck curves into her shoulder, eliciting another moan as Eve shudders, falters, but Agatha keeps her standing upright. Eve hitches her leg around Agatha’s waist – only one, but then Agatha is lifting her against the wall. She doesn’t know how she’s doing it. She doesn’t care how she’s doing it. Agatha’s fingers find the edge of her shirt and trace soft, gentle back and forth along Eve’s skin, and Eve shudders.
Tell me what you want, pet.
Eve takes a shuddering breath in, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she moves a hand from Agatha’s hair (when did it get there?), takes one of Agatha’s hands in her own, and guides it down into her pants. Please, she says. Please.
And what if I say no?
Eve whimpers. She can’t help it; she whimpers, twists to get some sort of touch, some sort of pressure just where she needs it.
Agatha considers this for a moment. She meets Eve’s eyes. Then she pulls her hand away, slowly lowers Eve so that her foot touches the ground again, and then steps back, grinning. She licks the fingers of the hand Eve guided, head tilting, eyes examining her. Then she smirks.
Not yet, babe.
Not yet? Eve whines. When? She reaches out, grabs Agatha’s wrist. You can’t just—
I can’t? Agatha glances up, meeting Eve’s eyes again. Who’s going to stop me, babe? You?
Eve licks her lips, swallows, and then drops her gaze.
That’s what I thought. Agatha pats her cheek then leans forward and kisses her other cheek. Maybe next time, hm?
Next time? Eve glances up, unable to keep the hope out of her voice. When is next time?
Agatha just smirks. I’ll let you know, hon. Until then…. She reaches out, grabs Eve’s crotch, and then runs a finger along the inseam just there. Something to remember me by.
Eve is still shuddering when Agatha leaves. Confused. Aroused. Desperate.
~
Later, when Eve is curled up in bed, when she’s taken care of herself and fallen back, exhausted but nearly content, on her pillows, her phone vibrates with another text. She reaches over and hesitantly picks it up.
Don’t worry, pet.
I like to finish what I start.
Eve bites her lower lip and, despite how content she already was, closes her eyes and slips her fingers down again.
~
Agatha doesn’t ask her out for drinks again.
Agatha doesn’t text her again.
Three weeks pass without any communication, any notification, any anything from Agatha.
Every time Eve’s phone vibrates with its gentle hum, she reaches for it, scans it, waits eagerly for any one of those gentle vibrations to be Agatha deciding she wants her again, but there’s nothing.
A long line of nothing.
Sometimes, Eve thinks about texting Agatha first, just to see what would happen, but she never does. Agatha just lost her mother, just lost her spouse! It’s not really appropriate for Eve to be going after her right now. She should give her time to mourn. Besides, if Agatha wants her, she can text her again, just like she did the first time. She certainly doesn’t want to be a bother.
But the weeks pass, and the months change, and Eve begins to wonder just how long a mourning period should last. She hates herself for thinking that. She shouldn’t be preying on Agatha’s obvious weakness. She should leave her alone. That’s exactly what she should do.
Eve throws herself into her work. It’s not like that’s hard. She goes through more porn, although none of them make her feel quite like those moments in the alleyway did, and more often than not, she starts to let her mind wander to that, to imagine what it might have been like if Agatha kept going, if she’d given in to what Eve so desperately wanted—
And then feels ashamed of herself for imagining something that Agatha very clearly hadn’t wanted, no matter how good it makes her feel.
Three weeks stretch into four, and four into five, and Eve stares at her phone and then decides, finally, to send Agatha a text. Just a friendly sort of text. That…that should be fine, right? That should be fine. Of course, she goes back and forth over what she’s going to say for so long that five weeks begins to take a sharp corner into six, and by then maybe it’s been too long, but those last texts are so loud and bright, that Eve can’t help but send something.
Hey, it’s me, Eve, just wondering when you were—
Agatha?
I thought you finished what you started, why haven’t you come to finish things yet.
Hey! It’s been a few weeks! Thought I should check in and see how you were—
Eve quickly erases that last message, and as she’s in the process of doing so, she sees the three little dots in a bubble that say Agatha is typing something. Her breath catches in her throat. She stares at the screen. Something, something, and then – nothing. The dots, and the bubble they are in, disappear.
She blinks twice, thinking maybe that will fix it, but there’s still nothing and there is no text.
Without thinking, Eve sends, What were you typing? As soon as the text is sent, she wants to catch it, to erase it. She shouldn’t have sent it, she shouldn’t have—
The bubbles appear again almost immediately, and in a few seconds, she gets her response: Nothing. ;)
Eve stares at the message. She stares at the winking face. That’s flirting; she’s certain that’s flirting. She bites her lower lip, tugs it between her teeth, and then sends: Why don’t you come over here and wink where I can see you? Again, as soon as it’s sent, she wants to pull it back – not because she doesn’t want to try and flirt with Agatha but because that was really poorly worded.
Bubbles. No bubbles. Eve’s breath hitches. Then the bubbles again.
What are you wearing?
Eve takes a deep breath. Why don’t you come and find out?
Come and find out, or find out and cum?
Eve licks her lips. Her gaze shifts left and right. Her fingers hover over the letters, but she can’t get herself to type Both. She swallows once, and as she does, the bubbles reappear.
Where are you?
It’s easy, to send her address. Eve doesn’t know why it’s so easy, but it is.
What is less easy is dressing for the occasion. She has nothing for this.
…somehow, Eve thinks that nothing is exactly what Agatha wants.
~
It has been years since Eve has invited anyone back to her place. That isn’t what this is, but that’s what it feels like when she opens the door to Agatha Harkness. Her heart leaps into her throat, and as soon as she shuts the door behind her, she reaches out for her, only to be stopped by a soft, Not yet, pet.
Eve doesn’t ask when.
She doesn’t lead Agatha into her living room or into her kitchen; Agatha goes where she wants, eyes scanning everything, as she removes her black jacket and folds it neatly over one arm. When she turns to Eve, she appraises her – the soft dress that fits snug against her body, the low cut that reveals the curve of her breasts, the gentle fall of her dark waves about her shoulders, so similar to Agatha’s own and yet not – and she gives a little hum of approval.
Show me to your room.
Eve takes a breath in before saying, hesitant, as she’s heard so many other women say in way too many porn videos, Make me.
Agatha’s eyes sparkle, and she grins. Is that a challenge? She steps closer, places her hand possessively on Eve’s throat, but doesn’t press, doesn’t nick, even though Eve can feel her thumbnail sharp against her skin. Is that what you want, babe?
Eve tilts her head back and meets Agatha’s eyes. She’s not sure how long she can do this, but it’s worth a shot. I want you to finish what you started.
Agatha nods. She licks her lips. Then she tilts her head so that her lips are almost touching Eve’s. Show me to your room. Her hand traces down Eve’s dress, fingers skimming the soft surface, and then she stops, one finger just above where the waistband of Eve’s underwear would be, if she was wearing any. Then she moves to whisper, breath hot on the shell of Eve’s ear, That was not a request. She pulls away just enough to meet Eve’s eyes. Or do you want to be punished?
Eve tries to lean forward to kiss her.
Agatha stops her, placing a finger on Eve’s lips. You’ve waited this long, hon. Surely you can wait a few moments longer. She moves past Eve and drops her jacket on the arm of the couch before turning back. I’ve got a bad back, you see. Beds help with the pressure.
To be quite honest, Eve isn’t sure whether Agatha is lying or not, and she finds that she doesn’t really care. She’s spent nearly two months waiting. Without another word, she takes Agatha’s hand in her own, interlaces their fingers, and gently, gently, gently tugs her down the hallway to her bedroom.
~
The important thing here is this: no one interrupts them.
Agatha is…thorough. Much more thorough than anyone else Eve has ever been with. She makes sure that Eve is well taken care of before she even so much as removes her shirt – unzips the back of Eve’s dress, kisses gentle and without a moment of desperation, and then sits her down on the edge of the bed and gets her close to the edge before laying her back and telling her to wait until she gives her permission.
She finally does when she kisses her, smiling as Eve moans into her mouth once more.
But that is only the first of multiple, and Agatha comes well-prepared with a toy she’s christened Grunty. (Eve does not ask why. She’s not sure she wants to know.)
When they’re done – or, more, when Agatha is done with her, because Eve isn’t sure that Agatha can ever truly be fully satisfied (or perhaps, in the future, she will be, perhaps Eve only needs more time with her to learn, to study, to apply herself in the proper moments) – Agatha curls against her chest, defenseless and small, and looks up at her with big, bright blue eyes. Did I do good?
Eve isn’t sure why she’s asking. Of course, she says. Of course, you did good. The best. I haven’t known anyone better.
But that isn’t enough. Agatha just stares at her, pleading with her eyes, searching for something.
Then Eve gets it.
She smiles, runs her hand through Agatha’s tangled mess of curls, and whispers, You are a very good girl, Agatha Harkness. A very good girl.
Agatha smiles up at her – smiles, not grins, not smirks, not smugness – and then curls a little closer. She doesn’t say anything.
She doesn’t have to.
#bandit fic#agatha harkness#eve fletcher#eve fletcher x agatha harkness#agatha harkness x eve fletcher#agave#agave fic
33 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
tippifunandprose
Tippi Fun & Prose
curioscurio
We are just sitting here
evilscienceblog
احذروا العلم الحديث !
centraldicasweb
CentralDicasWeb
fanganronpacorpseparty
Fanganronpa: Sachiko Ever After