#took nearly 5 hours cause of all the detail
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LOOK AT THIS TATTOO I GOT OF MY DOG
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eddie! x fem reader
summary: 3 years later; happy birthday
I can’t believe this is almost the end. It is so bittersweet to be uploading this and thanking you all for the continued support on this story. I hope you will miss eddie + tooty just as much as I will. The epilogue is next and then a fun little surprise for you all.
trigger warnings: fluff, sweet sweet fluff 💕
Crinkly paper streamers twist down into even boughs along the cedar planked walls. A homemade banner crafted with the best paint Melvald’s could offer, hung over the sliding patio door, freckled with glitter and deep hues of scarlet and onyx.
Carefully stenciled uniform letters spelling out a greeting for the birthday boy, line the banner— perfectly positioned.
Looking at it now, you can nearly feel the backache it caused from the leaned over pretzel position you were tangled in while attempting to make it look store bought. Instead it took hours and a ruined shirt to paint each letter with precision on your living room floor.
Red plastic cups were stacked in a corner on top of a cheap plastic table cloth adorned with paper plates and plastic utensils. A smaller card table from the Wheeler-Byer’s held a two tiered homemade cake, dolloped with sticky whipped strawberry frosting. His favorite.
Polaroids of the birthday boy were placed, in no particular pattern, with sticky tack to the wall above the card table holding the presents.
Various shots from the past year capturing adventures big and small. He had wanted that.
Wanted to remember every detail— an important step to moving forward, leaving the past in the dust and enjoying the second chance at life you had both been given.
The pictures were mostly candids, snapped in the blur of a moment, memories to be cherished for a lifetime to come. And although some of them were cheesy, or horribly cliche; they held delicate moments of the past two years of you and Eddie, together at last.
You suck the sticky remnants of frosting from your thumb as you carefully arrange a framed picture of his graduation day just so on the table, stepping back and admiring the hard work and weeks worth of planning you had done.
Your fingers dance along the sharp edges of the selected photos you had given Jonathan to print for you. 8”x10”, 5”x7”, colored, sepia tone, and even black and white you had wanted to give it more of a collage feel to the project, and Jonathan did a great job.
The pictures varied from moments that probably didn’t need to be remembered and ones that should have been taken by a professional, but it was perfect, exactly the way you had envisioned it.
A snapshot photo of Eddie’s plump lips wrapped around a brown beer bottle after a night of helping Wayne paint the outside of his trailer, his signature middle finger in the air, the rings glittering with the flash— was propped next to a candle.
One of Wayne and Eddie hugging on Christmas last year, a small tree tucked into the corner of the yellowing smoke stained walls and part of your finger covering the lens, and another one right after the first of them both looking shocked that you snapped the picture.
A picture of you and him, holding fishing poles on the bank of Lover’s Lake. His arm wrapped around your waist, your pole holding a sizable fish, his line snagged on moss and a tattered beat up tennis shoe, a proud smile on his face as he looked down at you, you mid laugh as Wayne teased Eddie behind the lens.
Another of just him in black and white, asleep on the bed you shared his dark tattoos looked piercing against his bare chested. Long angelic lashes closed against pinked warm cheeks, the silver scar barely visible on his bottom lip.
One with Eddie and the boys, sitting in the backyard, the tails of the fire licking into the sun fading sky, his hands wild in the middle of explaining a campaign idea.
A candid of Steve, Eddie, Robin and Dustin wearing their tuxes and running into the ocean. Shoes snug into the sand and socks left forgotten. Steve’s white jacket thrown into the air, half of a laughing, Leighanne all dolled up and beautiful on their big day.
A photo from the same day, but of only you and him, your lips perched on his cheek as he held you in his lap in the back of a limo. His other cheek sparkling with the residue of a lipgloss kiss, one hand holding your strappy lavender heels, the other wrapped around your waist. His dimpled smile wide and toothy.
And finally, your favorite one: one of just you and him, dressed in your homemade costumes as Mario and Luigi. A felt mustache falling from under your nose,his white gloved hands holding up rock n’ roll. Right before you two had won the Halloween costume contest at Nancy and Jonathan’s house.
Wayne had brought baby pictures that he had dug out of an old box in the forgotten storage shed when you had moved in. Dust lining the frames showing a brown haired baby with doe eyes, drooling over a washcloth while in the sink for a bath. A curly haired toddler with a big smile while on the swings at a park. And many more that were placed around the house.
The most special of them all sat on Eddie’s bedside table: a woman with soft honey muddied curls sweeping down to the middle of a white blouse, sunglasses pushed into her hair atop her head, kissing the forehead of a baby swaddled in a blanket.
“Tooty!” Gareth called from the kitchen, “phone call!”
You set the napkins next to Nancy who was meticulously adjusting the m&m dish into its correct place. Trying to balance out the clashing colors with the black and red theme.
“Looks perfect as always, Nance,” you murmur as you squeeze her arm gently when you pass her.
She huffs in disapproval, sweeping a permed curl behind her ear, her finger to her lips as she tuts, “it’s missing something.” You squeeze her arm again and trot into the living room.
Gareth is holding the blue phone by the long cord twirling it around like a pair of nunchucks, shoving the last bits of a hot dog in his mouth, ketchup wedged into the corner by his lips. “ it’s Hig D,” he announciates horribly, “somthin’ about heddie— shit that’s good— something about them just getting ready to leave work.”
laughing at him you can only roll your eyes, “you’ll make a good whore someday deep throatin’ like that,” you tease, taking the phone from his hand.
Gareth chuckles and shoves your shoulder, “haven't had any complaints yet, Oh! By the way, I need a three day extension on rent. Cool?”
Rolling your eyes again, a smile escapes your lips as you flip him off.
Of all of Eddie’s friends, Gareth was the hardest one to crack, but now he was easily your favorite. He reminded you a lot of Eddie in high school. A wild haired mess, always down for a crazy adventure to surely land him into trouble. But a big ol softie when it came down to people he cared about, especially Will.
Curling your fingers around the telephone cord, you talk into the receiver, “hey D, what’s up?”
—-
Argyle and Jonathan arrive through the front door, smelling like purple palm tree delight and balancing pizza boxes in their arms.
Robin spins at least a dozen times trying to find a place for the tower of cheesed pie and nearly knocks into Jonathan in her pursuit of frenzy. The boys slide them into place onto a card table against the kitchen wall, a photo of you and Eddie holding the keys to Hop’s cabin with wide grins on your faces hanging above it.
The brisk May breeze flows through the house, flickering the candles and making the helium balloons bump into one another in a lazy staticky dance.
A blur of red stalks into the house holding two bottles of liquor in each hand, a baseball hat backwards on her head, “hope Eddie likes whiskey because that’s all Walt would sell me,” she says heaving the bottles onto the counter in a clunkered manner, wiping the sweat from her freckled forehead, sporting a fresh new bob cut all thanks to you, “stubborn ass, he charged me nearly double,” she huffs, folding the paper sacks haphazardly, “son-of-a-bitch wouldn’t even let me use my employee rate!”
“Thanks for getting it Maxi-pad,” you say over your shoulder stifling a giggle from the old nickname you hadn’t called her since middle school, “Eddie’ll drink beer from a boot as long as he got a buzz from it—let me know what I owe you.”
She spins on squeaky sneakers and grabs a slice of pizza from one of the leaning boxes, squishing the greasy cheese between her teeth, talking with a mouthful “quit— we’re square for all the times you’ve come over since moving back.”
A sad expression falters behind the mask on her porcelain complexion. But she’s quick to shove it all away. It had been months since she’d been back in Hawkins, and your friend since elementary school was just starting to get her life back into order.
“Eddie’s offer still stands by the way,” you gently whisper, turning away from placing candles into the pink frosting to give her a quick squeeze, the fringes of your friendship mending together after years of not really speaking.
Holding Max at arms length you raise your eyebrows at her, “I’m serious,” a clip in your voice that even Nancy would envy.
She shrugs quickly and looks back with wet blue eyes, not willing to let her guard down on the eve of a party, “I’ll think about it,” her jaw set tight.
“Let's have fun tonight, okay?” she begs, “it isn’t every day Eddie’s old decrepit ass turns forty.”
The giggle she was hoping for to ease the tension tickled your throat, “he’s twenty nine, Maxine,” you tease back.
“Oh-ho-ho,” she chuckles, crossing the linoleum to the fridge in a swift motion, throwing open the door and leaning into the illuminated box, fingers dancing along the brown neck of a Bud Light, a smug smile on her salmon lips, “government names huh, T? I’ll remember that.”
—
Will and Mike were in charge of moving vehicles behind the north tree line away from the driveway and out of sight. Each car owner silently held their breath and the litter of anxiety rising higher as Mike got behind the wheel of each car. 13 tickets by Hopper’s deputies hadn’t slowed him down yet.
Leighanne, and El had just finished hanging the decorative white lights on the back deck and around the trees. The backyard looked like a little cozy oasis. And it warmed your soul to see it all come together.
It was rough when you had first moved in here. Hopper had a buddy who owned the cabin you now call home. It was far from town but hadn’t been renovated in years. Nothing a little elbow grease and nights after work wouldn’t fix, it took six months with help from just about everyone you knew, but the place was perfect.
And after everything that happened in Hawkins, Eddie’s promise stuck.
He got you both out. Started a new life away from the wandering eyes and whispered lies. Even after he was cleared, people still wouldn’t let it go.
But, the cabin was everything you could imagine and more. Perched into a thick grove of trees. Secluded. Secretive. Exactly what you both needed.
It was heaven.
Lounging on blankets in the soft grass, bare toes curled into the soft comforter, the girls sat back and laughed as Steve nearly tipped over the entire pan of grilled burgers and hot dogs.
“Yeah laugh it up you two!” Steve scolded playfully, tugging and shoving a hand into the thick tuft of hair on his head, “you won’t be laughing when there’s nothing to eat!”
“Such sass from The Grill Master,” Leighanne giggled, covering her mouth with a delicate hand, a large diamond on her ring finger.
Before Steve could whip up something cheeky, Arygle’s smooth baritone voice broke amongst the laughs, “Damn my dude,” he chuckled, leading Eden’s small frame through the patio door, “smells good out here.”
Steve huffs again, “Thanks, I’m just doing what I’m told, don’t mind the peanut gallery back there,” he gestures with his spatula to the two giggling gals on the blanket.
The keg was perched on the small back deck, ice melting slowly around the tin base. Steve had been grilling burgers for the last half hour, smears of grease rubbed on the bottom of his red apron embossed with fancy lettering, kiss the cook.
“And you’re doing it man,” Argyle salutes him as a fellow culinary soldier, “it’s art what you’re doing dude, pure fuckin art—like Picasso if he was a chef… piSteveo.”
“Okay man—yeah, I get it,” Steve says all in one breath, rolling his eyes and cracking a grin back at his bride who was biting her own cheek and trying not to laugh. “Dustin and Susie ride with you?”
“Yeah,” Eden scowls, crossing her legs and dragging Argyle down to sit on the picnic bench, her black pixie cut fluttering in the light breeze resembling a real life goth tinkerbell, “that four eyed little shit kept going on and on about the ecosystem and methane gas or whatever, so yeah they’re here— probably terrorizing everyone else about the election or some shit.”
Steve snorts and flips another burger onto the grates, the sizzle of charred seasoned beef signaling the first signs of summer, “sounds about right.”
“Alright guys,” you say stepping through the sliding patio door, the sun close to setting in the west taking the warmth with it, “D said they’re just leaving so everyone get in position.”
-
“..I’m just sayin’ is all,” D barks, finishing wiping the grease from a gas station bean burrito on the back of his hand from his pudgy lips, “I’ll give you top dollar for it.”
Eddie took another sip from his Mt. Dew, barreling down the highway and thumping his thumb along the steering wheel, contemplating heavily on what Big D had been asking of him.
“fuck I dunno man… it’s like a part of me y’know?”
Eddie rubs the beginning of his scruffy chin, unable to grow a full beard even though he’s nearly in his thirties, Peter Pan syndrome hitting him square in the jaw.
“had it since I was fifteen, fixed it all up with my uncle,” he mumbles lighting a cigarette between his teeth, “it’s a staple to the Munson name.”
D rolls his eyes and tosses the foil wrapper to the floorboards of Eddie’s truck. “that was like twenty years ago man, you don’t even drive it anymore.”
Eddie chuckles through a cloud a smoke, turning the steering wheel to the right down the hidden driveway, overgrown grass on both ends of a rotted through fence post, “easy there asshole— ‘sides, thought you were buying Jeff’s mom’s car?”
D slides belches loud and throws his chubby hand out the window, fresh air wiggling his fingers slowly, “I did, just gotta fix it up, but the van would be my daily driving chick magnet.” He wiggles his eyebrows like two black caterpillars dancing a tango.
Eddie smiles to himself, memories of past times booze cruising to Rick’s and hauling band equipment to the Hideout. Times long gone and fading like the moon into dawn.
A time when he was ruthless, chaotic and hungry for the world’s shittiness just so he could add his own fucked up version to it. A big fuck you to anyone who ever doubted him.
A time before you were officially his.
Nowadays the bear inside of him was tame, licking its paws in laziness, hibernating with the sounds of a calm beating heart. Fed and cared for, content.
“We’ll see,” he replies, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth, “you still owe me $40 for that service you gifted to that waitress last week, fucker.”
“Pffft,” D says lighting a cigarette, “take it out of my check boss man.”
Eddie cranked his lips into a smirk, it still didn’t feel real.
-
The roar of Eddie’s diesel truck echoes along the tree line, vibrating against the fallen branches from the late winter storm that snapped full grown Red Oaks like matchsticks when the ice built heavy onto its branches.
The cabin lights were dim, curtains pulled tight to barely show the glimpse of any crack of light. It wasn’t unusual, your lives were kept pretty private after everything that happened, doors always locked.
“The hell?” Eddie grumbled, wiggling the stick into neutral with the palm of his hand and killing the engine, the old dodge sputtering out to quiet, “thought you said Gareth was comin’ over to practice tonight?”
D fumbled for words, reaching for the metal door handle “no, yeah he’s here— maybe Will dropped ‘im off.”
Eddie quirked an eyebrow, the exhaustion from work taking over his features as he let out a loud yawn and arched his back against the velour seats, he climbed out of the pickup, lunchbox in tow.
“alright man, ‘m just gonna shower quick,” he hooks a thumb behind his shoulder, walking up the stone path to the front door, “think Tooty still has the hose hooked up if you wanted to rinse off.”
D stomps around the truck, leaning a thick arm onto the hood, “don’t make any special accommodations for me dude, I’m cool.”
“Yeah yeah you’re pretty cool alright,” Eddie said climbing the two steps with heavy footsteps, and putting a brass key into the knob, twisting it in his grasp, “why’d you think I had the window dow—”
Eddie is almost knocked back into the wall by the room full of his friends shouting surprise! as he entered the cabin.
Shock and a racing heartbeat wash away to a dimpled smile and squinted eyes. It was worth the weeks of planning and aligning everyone’s schedules to make it all work out. And in the end, the crowd turned into a blur when you peaked your head behind the kitchen wall grinning wide at the handsome man at the door.
His girl. His one and only. Spoiling him with a surprise party. Mouthing “happy birthday baby,” from across the room with a warm smile that still was able to tinge his cheeks in the prettiest shade of bashful.
Backs were slapped and shoulders clapped as Eddie made his way around to the guests. His smile was wide and toothy, lighting up the room with his deep laugh and dimples.
He hugged friends like he hadn’t seen them in years, pressed cheek to cheek and apologizing later for grease smudges left on their shirts.
“Shit,” Wayne breathed, as he stepped into the doorway, finding you immediately and looking sympathetic, “sorry we’re late, the missus was wrappin’ a last minute gift.”
Nancy and Mike’s mom stood tucked beneath Wayne’s arm. Four gifts wrapped tight and pristine, held in her arms. The alimony from Ted was still treating her more than well.
“Wayne,” Karen giggles like a schoolgirl, a long manicured hand to his denim jacket, dismissing him with a wink, “here Tooty,” she gleams, walking towards you with her arms outstretched, embracing you in a hug, “it’s just a little something for the two of you, saw it at the mall and couldn’t resist!”
It was an adjustment for the youngest Wheeler when Karen left Ted. Nancy and Mike didn’t seem to care, having already been moved out of the house and living their own lives. But Holly took it hard, refusing to see her mother at all.
“It’s perfect thank you Karen,” Eddie said, sneaking around you, his fingers dragging along your lower back and down your hip, sending shivers to your core. A quick wink to you as he grabs the gifts from her and Wayne.
He was happy for them, he had never seen Wayne with someone who treated him so well before in his life, he gave his shoulder a squeeze, “next time put your glasses on so you can see while driving, might get here on time, old man.”
Wayne rolled his eyes and put Eddie in a headlock, “I ain’t here to see you anyhow, came to see my favorite daughter in law to be if you’d just marry her already, didn’t even know it was your birthday you little punk.”
“Yeah yeah,” Eddie scoffed, “that’s why it says ‘Ed’s birthday’ on the calendar in your office, right? Because you didn’t know?”
Wayne releases Eddie and gives him a side hug, “been celebratin’ this day for twenty-three years with y’ boy, I ain’t never forgettin’”
Karen was always like a mother to you. The Wheeler’s held such a special place in your heart, and you’d always be grateful for the kindness both her and Ted had shown you when you were growing up. Seeing her now with Wayne surprisingly wasn’t that odd. They balanced each other well.
Wayne pulls you into the other side of him, keeping you and Eddie under each arm, “looks real good in here darlin’” He says, looking down at you with icy blue eyes, “sure am glad y’ learned how to tame this wild li’l shit.”
you smile up at the Munson’s and Eddie sticks out his tongue at you.
“Now,” he says addressing only Eddie, “I swear on my mama and daddy’s graves, Ed, you better marry this girl someday or ‘m gonna hang y’ from your toes by that clothesline out back.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, but before he can speak, Nancy waves at her mother and stands atop a metal chair.
“Alright everyone, let’s go out back and we can start eating.”
Once the room emptied it was just you and Eddie. The tension was always thick in every room you were in with him, electric in ways that buzzed between your legs and made your head feel fuzzy.
You waited your turn patiently.
Eddie coins a coy grin behind his plump lips, walking with his hands behind his back and moving his shoulder low, cocking his head.
Your hands, busy themselves with arranging presents, fingers slipping between the silky ribbons and plucking the ends to watch them curl. Warm arms surround your waist and you act surprised and let out a squeal.
He sets you down and pushes the collar of your shirt to the side, pressing his lips like angel’s wings to the skin on your shoulder, relishing in the way the goosebumps crawled across your flesh.
“Eddie,” you hum, working your fingers behind you to pull on the tendrils of sweaty hair tucked behind his neck.
“Hmm?” He breathes hot across your neck, working his way up to the dainty gold necklace, the same one brandishing the ring he gave you for Christmas in 1992, nothing compared to the one he was eyeballing at the jewelry store in the mall.
Rubbing the underside of your chin with the bulb of his nose, you shudder and feel his grin on your skin, “all of this for me?”
You nod and whine when a large hand dances across the waist of your jeans. And almost let out a moan when he nips at your earlobe.
Eddie’s work days were long but the nights spent between the sheets were longer, both of you never getting enough of each other. The passion and static was always there.
“Wanted to surprise my birthday boy,” you breathed as your head fell back into his shoulder, and he bucked his hips into you, pushing you into the rickety table and shaking the presents.
“You’re too good to me,” Eddie whispered into your ear, his fingers digging into your hips. “How am I ever going to thank my pretty gir—?”
“Hey you guys comin’ or what?” Steve asks, hands on his hips and a scorch mark on his apron, “Nancy’s making a fucking seating chart out there, and I really hope you have liability insurance because Argyle is trying to teach Dustin yoga.”
Eddie takes his lips from your neck and turns to face Steve, “I mean, we coulda been if you hadn’t barged in.”
“Eddie!” you laugh, slapping his chest lightly, and straightening your shirt, “we’ll be right out Steve, just going to give Eddie his birthday present.”
His eyes sparkle in mischievous wonder, “oooh you think we have time?” He says unbuttoning his work blues, “I like the way you think dirty sweetheart.”
You roll your eyes and tug him down the hallway to your bedroom.
“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters under his breath, shaking his head and making his way through the patio door, “nah don’t worry I’ll entertain the guests,” he says in annoyance, “maybe we can play parcheesi or hotdog Jenga.”
—
“Don’t peek!”
“Oh c’mon!”
“Eddie.”
“Ugh fine, but you better be naked or I’ll pout.”
“Such a brat...”
“Don’t act surprised babe.”
“Alright open, but I am very much still dressed, that part of your present is later tonight.”
Eddie had showered and was getting dressed shoving his feet into a worn pair of converse when you waltzed into the room, a small oblong box behind your back.
Dropping the carefully wrapped present into his awaiting hands, he holds the box like a carton of eggs. One eye peeked open, “well,” Eddie says rubbing the corners of the box with the calloused pads on his thumbs, “this doesn’t feel like a puppy.”
“You poor boy,” you tease with a shove to his shoulder, and a kiss to his cheek, “how will you ever live?”
Eddie tears the paper with a hook of his finger where the tape joins the pieces, wet tendrils of hair dripping water marks onto the wrapping, “it’ll be hard but I think I’ll manage.”
Biting your lip in anticipation you watch as Eddie tears the paper in boyish glee. And you aren’t sure who’s smile is wider when he finally opens the small rectangle shaped box.
It took awhile to save up for it. Cutting countless heads of hair in the renovated room above Master Mechanic’s, the auto shop Eddie co-owned with Wayne in Bridgeport, and earning a small wage by cleaning houses for a few hours on the weekends.
But every scrubbed toilet, every rolled perm rod was worth it when Eddie opened his present.
“It's about time you saw them live, yeah?”
Tickets to Metallica, the same gift. But this time with the promise of actually going and witnessing their magic.
“Oh baby,” Eddie nearly cried, running his fingers over the inked words carefully, he set the tickets down on the comforter and wrapped his hands around your waist pulling you into him, “why are you so good to me?”
And just like the first time he asked you, years ago, before you were his and he was yours. When you were just roommates exchanging gifts on Christmas. You told him what you should have then.
but you don’t fight to find the words anymore, or wonder if it’ll sound dumb. Everything you've been through with Eddie you could never imagine living life with anyone other than him.
The words come easy, and it’s one of the truest things you’ve ever said.
“Because you’re a good man. Because you’re the reason I wake up smiling every morning. Because I have never loved anyone the way that I love you, and I’ll always, always regret not telling you sooner.”
Eddie smiles with a quivering lip and you lean down to wipe the tears from his eyes, his arms wrap around you tight like a vice grip.
Looking into his eyes, he somehow looked better with every year passing, truly aging like fine wine, and you were drunk on him.
“Don’t cry on your birthday baby, it’s supposed to be a party,” you smile warmly at him, bringing his chin up a bit
so you can press a gentle kiss to his lips.
Pulling you into him so you’re straddling his hips, he whispers an I love you into your ear with your real name attached at the end, all satiny on his breath like a Hershey kiss.
You don’t hear your God given name very often, having hated it for as long as you remember. Stubbornly telling everyone at a young age that your name was Tooty. Even writing it on all of your school papers as early as kindergarten.
But when Eddie said it, it set your soul on fire. Like a secret kept finally being told. Like another wall breaking down with him holding the sledge hammer. Like the first bite of a warm brownie from the oven. It felt good.
He presses slow kisses into your neck and moves his large hands to rock your hips against him, “you’re never gonna get rid of me, you know that right?”
“Fuck I hope not,” you whisper as you nip at his bare shoulder, “I made your favorite cake for tonight and everything.”
“Mmm,” Eddie purrs against the column of your throat, “strawberry?”
Gathering skin between your teeth you suck a small bruise into his pale neck, tongue swirling soft then firm, his pretty noises filling the bedroom walls.
“Yep,” you breathe with swollen lips, and popping the ‘p’, “extra frosting.”
“Lady evil at it again,” Eddie teases, capturing your lips into a hungry kiss, his hands scoring down your back and bringing your hips impossibly closer to where you were both aching.
You giggle as he breaks away, and tickles your sides. He flips you onto the bed. The bulb of his nose wedging between your neck and shoulder as his hips hold you in place, his fingers dig into your armpits, and your ribs.
You laugh until your face is red and your neck is slick and painted with a stain of raspberry teeth marks and the lap of his tongue licking the bites better.
He gives you a wicked grin, out of breath and his lips swollen, his demeanor changes into something serious.
He holds his hand on your cheek, sweeping your skin delicately with the pad of his thumb, holding you so gently as if you were made of porcelain, “I’m gonna make you my wife.”
Your fingernails scratch lightly down his chest, skipping over the tattoo of little angel wings and a halo for the unborn child you didn’t get the luxury of holding, matching the one on your inner arm. The date etched below in Eddie’s own handwriting.
It wasn’t the only new tattoo he had gotten since that day.
He also had a mockup of a cartoon lady, devil horns on her head and a long black demon tail wagging behind her, that sat on his bicep. A pout identical to yours on her pretty little face, arms crossed in a fit. ‘my girl’ in old English font beneath her little stiletto heels.
Your fingertips trace the lines of blank ink on his chest. And you lift your eyes to his.
Opening your soul to him for the millionth time, spreading its wings and joining with his into that dream land he swore he’d take you to, dancing on the rings of Saturn, bathing in the springs of Jupiter.
He smiles softly and so do you, heart soaring and beating fast, “about damn time,” you whisper softly just before his lips close around yours.
Although your life would never be the same after that awful day, the one you were crafting and coloring outside the straight black lines with Eddie by your side, was pretty damn great.
And you wouldn’t change a thing.
🤧
🏷️
@bebe07011 @dashingdeb16 @hiscrimsonangel @luxaeterna13 @enam3l
#eddie munson#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader#fic recs#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#honey I’m home series
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ready for another lie?
// carmen berzatto x reader
song: Diet Mountain Dew.
pairings: nyc chef!carmen x journalist!reader
mdni!! i'm not responsible for your media consumption.
warnings: smutty smut, VERY DETAILED, fem!reader, oral and fingering (f!recieving), porn with plot, drinking, cursing, kinda subby carmy, praise kink, alludes to piv but it doesn't happen, complete and utter filth, i'm giving the people what they want don't look at me!!!
essentially a prequel, 1 year before the start of season 1 of The Bear.
"Fuck youuuuu! It's Friday, loosen up!" A groggy voice yelled from across the bar, cursing you for declining another drink.
You watched your friends flirt with the bartender over the course of 2 rounds of shots; causing harmless fuckery with the several guys who tried flattering them. You were actually bored for once. It made you sick.
You waited for something, anything else to impress you. You tried convincing yourself you didn't have to leave, that your friends wanted you here, and that nights like these were "good for your soul," but there seemed to be no hope.
"Just two vodka tonics. Oh, and a white Negroni. Uh, yes— yes, thank you." You caught a blonde curl from the stool next to you in the corner of your peripheral vision, and you dared to turn your head. You were met by the sight of an oddly familiar guy—and then it hit you like a semi truck.
The man you wrote your final thesis on "the senses creating art," about. Food & Wines best new chef, as of late.
You'd spent an entire year and a half traveling the world (after finally making a name for yourself as a journalist, and snagging a place in Food & Wines top writers) and interviewing the faces of all forms of modern art, representing one of each of the 5 senses.
Casey French, a fragrance designer as the face of "smell." Christopher Knowles, a fashion designer who specialized in optical wear as the face of "sight."
The list went on, until it ended at Carmen Berzatto, on "taste," just 6 months ago. It was September now, and you almost forgot about the 2 and a half hours you took from your day to sit down and talk to him in that studio. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you felt the pores in your palms release a nervous sweat.
You blinked rapidly, wondering if you were really seeing him— out of all the other Friday nights, when he could've visited all the other bars. But he chose this Friday, at this bar, next to you. You needed to say something.
"I'll take a Negroni too, actually. And you can just close out my tab for tonight." You handed the bartender your card after you anxiously fished it out of your wallet, trying to seem completely oblivious to Carmen's stare. Carmen clenched his teeth, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he kept his gaze focused on you.
"Holy shit! Is that—" A slightly younger man nearly yelped while he inappropriately pointed at you, quickly being shut down by his peer, and being told to "shut the fuck up," but Carmen stayed silent. He was dumbfounded at the sight of you.
"Uh, hi. Funny seeing you here," you croaked, swallowing hard when you realized how much of a horrible excuse of a "hello," that was. Carmen didn't seem to mind, dragging his head out of the clouds and smiling back at you as he received his glass.
"Oh my god, yeah. Wow, I— it's good to see you."
Carmen glanced down at your drink, watching you trace your fingertip around the rim of the short glass. He gazed at your fresh manicure, the beautifully layered rings on your fingers, the diamonds on your wrists, the black dress with a slit that exposed your leg up to your mid-thigh. Carmen always thought you looked nice, only being used to your blazers and gorgeous vintage pants that he was a little jealous of, but this was different.
And as if you weren't already anxious enough, Carmen's "friends" immediately arose from their stools and made their way to an empty table, leaving the two of you alone again. Just looking at him and his clean suit and tie made you nervous, especially with the ink on his hands still visible.
"Good to see you too, Carmen," you smiled, cheeks aching as you tried desperately to hide your excitement. Admittedly, you admired him. That wasn't new. But that feeling in your stomach, that aching, yearning feeling was.
"I don't usually do these things," Carmen mumbled, taking a sip from his glass and licking his lips.
"Me neither. It's kinda— I don't know, icky."
You knew Carmen avoided big gatherings like this, but they were usually tolerable thanks to people who "knew him" enough to let him hang around their groups in silence while they practically screamed at each other. But his free time just never seemed to align with anyone else worth talking to... until tonight.
"Icky. Couldn't have worded it better," Carmen tried not to laugh at your expense, keeping his tongue between his teeth as both of you fought back a smile.
"You get it! God, anyway—how've you been?" You inched closer to him, resting your chin in your palm as your elbows were propped up on the counter. You made sure to keep your stare on him and only him, glancing from his nose, to his lips, and back into his eyes. You knew exactly what you were doing, and it was too late to stop now.
Carmen paused, his mouth gaping open slightly as he thought of what he could possibly say to convey that he could be doing better, without completely ruining the mood. He sucked his teeth as he took a deep breath, his eyes glued to the floor until he finally looked at you again.
"Alright, I guess. Managing. How're you?"
"Managing. But really though. Like, has anything changed?"
Carmen thought about your question, realizing how much he seemed to relax tonight—while simultaneously being the most nervous he'd ever been outside of work in the last year. Was it being out and public after a long week? Was it the fact that he still felt so stupid for not getting your actual number, and instead only having access to your business email which was provided by your agent? Was it the smell of your perfume? Was it just you?
"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I guess some things have changed."
He couldn't help but awe at the way you did your hair and your makeup that night, appreciating the tiny details your jewelry and purse of choice added to the look. He hardly ever thought twice about the attractive women he'd run into; making small talk and watching them get bored with his interests.
But now you were here; his fantasies, his desires were here, right next to him; wearing a dress that flattered your cleavage and cinched you at the waist, black heels that tapped against the footrest of the barstool. It made his head foggy, and he couldn't even wrap his head around the encounter.
After finishing your Negroni's over the course of 3 separate conversations that left you with a cramp in your side and your cheeks hurting from smiling—basically hitting it off like you were actual friends, you decided to pull the classic...
"You wanna get out of here?"
Two successful, somewhat well known adults in their lines of work were allowed to be human, right? They were allowed to share deep belly laughs with someone they didn't originally plan to see outside of a work setting, right?
Wrong. It was unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted: everything you promised you'd never be around him.
Carmen knew this.
But he was eye-fucking you in that goddamn interview. His tattooed hands rubbing against his thighs as he sat in front of you in the white light of that studio, his gentle voice contradicting his large, almost intimidating arms—it was all you could think about when you wrote your thesis. And now you were gonna be alone with him.
And despite his worries, despite the nervous sweat beading on his forehead, despite his growing anticipation when he admired your figure like a horny teenager, Carmen agreed. The smirk on your face and your manicured nails in between your pearly white teeth was convincing enough. He knew it was risky, given the fact that you still wrote for Food & Wine every couple of months: being more than capable of ruining his career with one wrong, but so right move.
"Yeah, actually."
Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.
Fuck it.
Carmen closed his tab, gently helping you down from the barstool by your hand. You held your purse close to you while waving a shy goodbye to your friends, who were drunkenly squealing in excitement for you. Carmen's peers seemed to be out of sight; therefore, out of mind. You felt your cheeks go hot, every part of your body tingling. Neither of you knew where you were going. Just not here, and not with everyone else.
He couldn't even think about the fact that he would be back in the glowing white light of the kitchen that following Monday, and you completely forgot about the paper you had to start by Sunday night. And it was way too late to care about any of that now.
You decided your apartment was best.
"Fuck.." Carmen grunted under his breath, his eyes hooded while he felt his pants tighten against his throbbing length. He spread his legs wider as you palmed him, trying to ease some of his tension. You hovered over him as he lied down, sprawled out on your leather couch. His hands were clawing at anything he could reach; your hair, your thighs, the straps of your dress until he pulled it down to your hips, and finally the clasp of your bra.
His bare chest heaved, red and covered in sweat. His dress shirt, tie, and jacket were somewhere in the mess of your apartment. He was honestly too desperate to care.
"You okay with me takin' this off?" Carmen whispered as he cupped your cheek, keeping his fingers prepared to unclip your bra with your permission. He admired every inch of your flushed face as he waited for answer.
"Mhm," you soothed him as your hand moved up and unbuttoned his pants the second your lips moved onto his. Saliva pooled in your mouths with every kiss, turning into a sloppy mess of tongue and teeth. Carmen struggled, but eventually tossed your bra onto the living room floor, his mouth just centimeters away from yours as he exhaled heavy breaths.
You sat up straight, pulling Carmen up by his shoulders and smashing your lips back into his. He pulled sway to breathe, taking it upon himself to peel the rest of your dress off. His tattooed hands gently caressed your plush thighs, his calloused fingers sliding under the hem of your lace underwear. He practically worshiped you like this, planting open mouthed kisses along your jawline and neck.
Carmen needed to hear you, feel you, taste you.
"I wanna taste you, if–if that's alright," he placed one last kiss of gratitude on collarbone before he looked up at you through lust-blown, half-lid eyes.
Your entire body began to heat up again, and Carmen's words went straight to your needy cunt. You could feel yourself dripping through your panties while you put a hand over your mouth in embarrassment, nodding frantically.
"Please," you begged, a mixture of a moan and a silent cry escaping. Carmen's hands detached from your thighs, your hips writhing up from the loss of contact. Without another word, he nodded his head, letting his hands travel down your hips as he got down on his knees in front of you.
Carmen took a shaky breath, glancing from your pleading eyes and back down to your bottom half. He hesitated, choosing to plant one more line of kisses from your tits down to your navel before giving you one last look for permission. He put his hand between your inner thighs, asking you to spread further. You blinked slowly while he peeled your panties off of you, wondering if he would notice how wet you already were.
Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.
Carmen licked his lips, admiring the sight of your puffy slit in hesitation. With your body sprawled out in front of him, your pretty face looking down at him...how could he not eat you out right on that leather couch?
"I've got you, baby," Carmen cooed, his eyes wide as he nearly drooled over the glossy puddle in your underwear. He gently placed your calves over his shoulders, his calloused hands scooping the underside of your thighs.
Carmens wet tongue licked a bold stripe from your hole up to your soaked clit, not a drop of your arousal going to waste. You grew impatient, the kitten licks he gave your sensitive bundle of nerves driving you mad.
"C'mon, Carmy, I—" You whined, pleading that he'd pick up the pace. Carmen decided not to hold back, giving your throbbing clit aggressive sucks that he'd later soothe with slow, flat-tongued licks.
You bit down on your hand while the other entangled in his hair to muffle the sinful noises you made. Carmen felt his stomach turn at the sound of his name falling from your gaping mouth.
Carmen took note of how much you loved his tongue diving into your weeping hole, earning whimpers and cries of "please," and "oh, fuck, Carmen." He groaned into your pussy when you caught a grip on his hair, placing his head even deeper between your thighs. He moved his hands from your thighs and up to your waist—forcing your jerky hips down on the couch. He wanted to make sure you didn't miss a single bit of pleasure.
"Can I.. uh, can I try something?" He stammered, picking his head up with his chin shiny with your liquids as his hand crept back down, prying between your folds. Carmen needed to keep every part of him busy so he wouldn't have to focus on the aching bulge, already leaking precum in his boxers. He felt his thighs clench as he fucking whimpered beneath you.
"S–sure.." You nodded frantically again, tossing your head back as Carmen carefully inserted a digit into your core. You whimpered in slight discomfort as he stretched you out, which he immediately reassured softly.
"Shhh... you're alright. Jus–just relax f'me, yeah?"
Carmen waited until you whined again; his fingers started at an agonizingly slow pace until he heard your moans getting a little too quiet for his liking. He picked his pace up, sliding another thick finger into your hole and ramming into your g-spot. He hesitated, afraid to hurt you—but you quickly dismissed his worries when you urged him that you needed more. Carmen aligned his tongue back with your pussy, sucking hard before comforting your desire with lapping at your clit.
"Oh my god, Carmen," you felt that familiar knot in your stomach, your grip in his hair tightening while your moans grew louder and louder. You didn't care if your neighbors could hear you through the thin walls of your apartment. You didn't even think about what this would look like the morning after—because none of it mattered. Not with Carmen's head between your thighs.
Carmen could tell you were close, prioritizing your pleasure before he could even register how badly he wanted to cum into his boxers. He couldn't help but buck his hips forward, begging for friction while every noise you made just inched him closer to his release... but he needed this to last.
"You close? Let me take care 'f you," he mumbled, breathing heavily against your pussy while he tried his best to stay still. It sent shockwaves through your body, and you tried desperately not to scream his name.
"So... so close.. Fuck, it's too much," your useless protest was cut short by a loud moan, muffled by the sweaty palm of your hand. Your heart pounded in your head as your walls clenched around Carmen's fingers. You weren't used to anything feeling this good in months.
"C'mon baby, you can handle it. You're alright. You're doing so good. Takin' my fingers so fuckin' good," Carmen's raspy voice comforted you. His tongue finally came back to relieve you, his fingers slowing down so as to not overstimulate you, as much as he wanted to.
"Carmy!" Your eyes screwed shut as your thighs shook. You chased your high, practically grinding into his face as his nose bumped your clit while his fingers remained at work.
—
"Jesus..." You panted, grunting in disappointment when you felt Carmen slide his fingers out of you. He licked them clean while your eyes were screwed shut as you tried to recollect yourself. Carmen planted a kiss on your temple the second he sat back up onto the couch, pulling you into his lap by your waist. You felt his erection against your crotch, his already sticky mess combining with your wetness yet again.
"You okay?" Carmen cupped your cheek, pushing any sweaty strands of hair out of your face. And just when he thought he couldn't have felt more proud of you, he melted into the feeling of your lips against his.
You didn't know if you'd ever see him again, you didn't know if this night would magically become niche hot gossip within your respective groups; all you knew was that you wanted him. His lust blown eyes on you, his hands gripping your waist as he bent you over your kitchen counter and fucked you dumb, the sound of sex echoing through your apartment.
Maybe some other Friday night.
#AHHHH i'm screaming#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto smut#i need him biblically#hope u guys like this it took way too long#nyc chef!carmen#he's such a cutie#i need him to eat me#carmy berzatto#jeremy allen white#the bear x reader
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SEEDS Security Codes and Why They Matter
So, I've been thinking about one of the details in Trigun: Stampede that was not present in either '98 or the manga.
In '98, Knives just hacking into the SEEDS codes was left as-is. He walked up to Captain Joey and shot him and apparently took his pilot's seat. Did the Captain have the navigation open at the time? Was it closed and Knives had to do some hacking? Anyway, there, he did it on his own.
Now, in Trigun Maximum, which treats Vash and Knives' childhood differently (just Rem there raising them), there is a foreshadowing of what is to come.
In Volume 6, Rem is depicted waking up to an emergency signal in the middle of her sleeping-hours. (Aw, she sleeps in her regular clothes, mom-jeans and all...). Panicked, she yells at Knives for him and Vash to lock themselves in their rooms and not to come out or speak up for ANY reason, even if they hear voices outside.
She tries to handle the situation, but it goes from bad to worse and the automatic crew-wakening protocol goes into effect, which she is very concerned about (for reasons that we who have read the manga know about)!
In the beginning of Volume 7 the crew wakes up, there's a situation-update. The ships are going off-course and will collide if things are not corrected. They're working through the issues and suddenly, there's an unknown factor that kicks in to correct the course. Rem then gets the crew all settled back in again for nappy-time...
And proceeds immediately to Vash and Knives, where she scolds Knives with (Rem's angry mom-face, my beloved)!
Knives was playing around with the ship codes and systems. He'd apparently hacked his way into the system and was curious about SEEDS' functions. (One would assume that Rem changed some of the codes after this, but I bet they were in some kind of hacking-war, with her trying to stay one step above curious Plant-twins). Knives did not mean to nearly cause a catastrophe, but this shows that he can and is a foreshadowing to when he DOES mean to cause one later.
Now, in Trigun Stampede, it is stated by Nai / Knives that Vash gave him the ship-codes, also that he spent a lot of time and trouble changing the codes for every human ship. (The manga lists the ship they are born on as the Mothership, presumably guiding the entire fleet, in Stampede, it is just Ship 5, which implies multiple guides with multiple navigators).
I am wondering where Studio Orange is going with this.
Will it be a situation like the manga where the kids are just playing around? Little prank-war with Rem? Maybe Vash is sharing a ship code innocently, as part of their games?
Or is it going to be darker, more sinister? I wonder if Vash was originally of the thought of "maybe we need to crash the ships and kill all humans (except Rem) because they're scary and dangerous because of what happened to Tesla" and then had a change of heart and backed out of it? - I can see that happening... him having his cathartic alone-time with Rem as in the manga and then talking things out with Nai and thinking that they weren't going to go through with it. And then Nai betrays him.
I've been wondering about the guilt Vash carries over the Big Fall in Stampede. Is it an unnecessary, undue guilt like he seems to have about a lot of things? Or is there a guilt born from "I had originally planned disaster / we had originally planned disaster" and it came true even after he'd backed out?
It's just that... in both '98 and Maximum, he does carry his cross (that is not Wolfwood's), but he seems to feel less specifically guilty over this (the Big Fall). He's really more like "Knives, how could you do this to everyone / Rem?!" He just seems more guilt-ridden in Stampede than in the other media and I am wondering if there is a dark secret behind it.
I can see it going either way.
#trigun#trigun maximum#trigun stampede#vash the stampede#millions knives#rem saverem#project SEEDS#The Big Fall#trigun analysis#trigun stampede analysis#I really want vash to be innocent in this and it being just him and knives messing around#because I'd rather have the stabby moment to be Vash's dance with darkness#because I really really like the stabby moment#although stampede already messed that up by having Rem just talk about a story about blank tickets#rather than have it be from a personal dream#where's my train-dream stampede?!#I think the train-dream is important to me because I had something similar at a point in my life#before I discovered trigun#I thought my future was tanked because something didn't go as planned#cue me dreaming of an open desert road that lead to anywhere#I woke up refreshed#I also don't want to go back and change my fanfiction
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Marlboro Red 100's (pt.1)
Daryl Dixon x FemReader (No use of Y/N)
Modern/no apocalypse/no walkers AU
Word Count: 3765
Warnings: Mentions of smoking, fluffy-lovey-dovey crap, suggestive-ish, swearing, mention of slight age gap but no ages specified
(Pt.2)
A/N: This is like my second ever one shot I've posted to Tumblr pls enjoy and don't rip me to shreds <3
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1:30 to 2:00
2:00 to 3:00
Then 3:30 to 4:00
4:00 to 5:00
5:00 to 6:00
Your shift dragged on and on the more you glanced at the clock, watching the hands circle around and around, painfully slow. Six more hours. You could do six more hours of this, right? Monotonously scanning items and cashing out customers, fixing displays, cleaning spills, scrubbing toilets, checking inventory; all the wonders of being a minimum wage employee at a gas station corner store. Overworked and underpaid, a sentiment shared by many.
There’s handfuls of regulars at any retail store. Some are pleasant and will make small talk with you, asking about your life or commenting on the weather. Others, not so much. Men can be creepy and some people will share every detail of their life with you, whether you want to hear it or not.
There’s rare times, though, when there's a customer that you actually have genuine interest in talking to. Like today.
The door chime rang out through the desolate store, causing you to repeat your usual “Hi, how’re you?” and turn your gaze from your shift paperwork up to the front door.
There stood a man, broad shoulders and shoulder length, dark hair. He wore dark jeans, heavy-looking boots and a leather vest over a flannel that had the sleeves torn off. His tan, muscular hands and arms were covered in what looked like motor oil. He wiped them on a red rag he took from his back pocket, shaking his hair out of his eyes.
“Hey,” his voice was low and gruff with a bit of a southern accent, “you got a bathroom I could use?”
He raised his arms, showing you the mess on his large hands.
“Yeah, uh, right in the back, to the left.” you stammered, gesturing towards the back of the building.
You’d probably die before you told anyone this, but the whole hot mechanic look some guys came in with really got you going. Not often is there a good looking guy that comes in that you drool over, but every now and then there would be a mechanic or a construction guy or a painter who just looks dirty and you wanted them dirtier. It was weird, you didn't know why, but maybe it was just the idea that they weren't afraid to get their hands dirty, literally.
You watched this one walk to the back, eyes on his biceps. Oh, how you’d like to be nearly crushed between them.
Seriously, being here so long with so little to do makes your mind wander just about anywhere and everywhere and half of what you did during your shift was daydream.
When he disappeared into the men’s room, you leaned against the cigarette wall behind the register, eyes scanning the parking lot outside the window. It was almost abandoned, except for an older man pumping gas into his Subaru and a worn-looking Harley Davidson motorcycle propped up out front.
“Of course he rides a motorcycle,” you mumbled to yourself, shaking your head with a little grin. He definitely seemed the type.
“Say somethin’, sweet ‘eart?” his voice startled you from your thoughts, noticing he’d already washed his hands and was now standing up against the counter.
You couldn’t help the light blush creeping across your face at the nickname, shaking your head and pointing outside, “just sayin’ I like your bike.”
You blinked at him from behind the register, watching his eyes almost light up at the mention of his prized possession. You could feel your heart beating faster at the scent of his cologne mixed with a little gasoline.
“Ain’t she beautiful? Just got done workin’ on ‘er, made a mess but it’s always worth it.” He grinned, glancing out the window at his bike.
“You new ‘round here? I’ve never seen you before,” you decided to blurt out, “think I’d remember ya’.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Not many new people come through here, is all.” you lied, so many different faces slid through every day, but you’d remember his because you’d think about it later with your hands between your thighs.
“Huh,” he hummed, “can I get a pack of the Marlboro red 100’s, darlin’?”
You nodded, turning around and reaching on your tiptoes to grab the pack of cigarettes from the top shelf. Had you been able to feel the way the man’s eyes traveled down from the top of your head to your heels, you would’ve melted into a puddle right there.
“Anythin’ else?” you asked, placing the cigarettes on the counter top.
“One more thing,” he said, handing you a twenty dollar bill, “what’s your name?”
You pointed to the name tag fastened to your shirt and he read it outloud, erupting butterflies in your stomach.
‘’I’m Daryl Dixon. And yeah, I’m new ‘round here. I’ll be back in though, you’ll see more of me.”
“You gonna be a regular?” you asked, crossing your arms and once again leaning against the wall of cigarettes after you handed him his change and closed the drawer.
“Hope so, only If i see more a’ you.”
You rolled your eyes and tried to bite down the smile on your lips, failing miserably.
“Uh-huh, I’m always here, Daryl Dixon,” You teased, letting his name roll off your tongue.
“Then I’ll be back for sure.” He flashed a sweet smile, tapped his hand on the counter and turned to leave.
Once he was out the door, you watched him mount his bike, raking his hands through his hair and kicking up the side stand. As he pulled away, you felt the butterflies still flutter in circles in your stomach, your thoughts still focused on him.
You would see him again. It would be Daryl’s ritual to come in every Friday afternoon for a pack of Marlboro Red 100 cigarettes and sometimes a lighter. Truth was, even if his pack wasn’t empty yet, he’d still stop in every Friday afternoon just to see your pretty face and to watch you stretch the top shelf, his eyes raking over your shape. Jesus, he wanted you so badly it almost hurt, but he had no idea how to approach you about it, he didn’t even know much about you. Small things, like your family stuff and what you did for fun, but nothing much else. To make matters worse, he had to be at least 20 years older than you. What would you want with an old man like him?
Was he really old?
No, but he felt like it.
Except for when he was lost in conversation with you.
Every time he saw you, he felt as though there was no divide and you could’ve known each other years before, old friends meeting up every Friday for a couple months straight. He’d ask questions about you, what your favorite color was, your favorite animal, favorite song, movies, foods, anything he could learn about you, he absorbed like a dry sponge tossed into water. You’d always return the questions, ask him the same, and make mental notes of the answers, the same way he was.
On one sunny, dry, hot Friday afternoon, the door chimed and in walked your favorite regular, Daryl Dixon.
“Hey, honey,” He grinned your way, but instead of walking towards the counter as usual, he turned towards the cooler in the back.
“What, no cigarettes?” you pretended to be shocked, hand over your heart.
‘’I’m gettin’ a drink, hot as shit out there,” he replied, shaking his head and disappearing momentarily behind one of the shelves.
You smiled and rolled your eyes just as the door chimed again, another customer walking in.
He was a short, scrawny guy who couldn't have been more than a couple years older than you. You said your usual greeting and he ignored you, walking up to the counter and simply stating a brand of cigarettes you assumed he wanted. Daryl got in line behind him just as you turned around and bent slightly to grab the pack of cigarettes on the lowest shelf.
From behind you, you heard a whistle.
You snapped back up, looking back and glaring at the asshole. He was chuckling to himself.
“Aw, c’mon, it was a compliment, baby, you got blessed back there,’’ He laughed.
“Fuck off,” you muttered, tossing the cigarettes onto the counter and swiping the scanner over them.
“What was that, babe?” He raised his eyebrows.
Daryl looked like he was about to explode, piping up from behind the guy, “you heard what she said, why don’t ‘cha? Fuck off.”
He nearly spat his words, seconds away from stepping between this douchebag and the counter.
“I ain’t gonna let no bitch talk to me like that,” He snarled, swiping the cigarettes off the counter.
‘’Alright, that’s it,” Daryl placed his drink on the counter and slid it to you, “hold that, sweetheart, okay?” before turning to the other man.
‘’Fuck you think you are, talkin’ to a lady like that? She ain’t no bitch, that’s you. Get the fuck on outta’ here.” He spat, roughly grabbing the younger man by the collar of his t-shirt and shoving him towards the door.
‘’She ain’t no lady-” the guy started, back to the door, but Daryl cut him off.
“She’s every bit a’ one, now get the hell out and leave ‘er alone before I kick your fuckin’ teeth in.”
The guy tried to walk forward, but Daryl shoved him out through the door, onto the pavement. He scrambled up, seemingly too embarrassed to walk back in, and sped off. Daryl picked up the cigarettes from the floor where the guy had dropped them when he was shoved the first time and gently placed them onto the counter.
‘’You alright, honey? I’m sorry ‘bout him, fuckin’ asshole.”
You were just about breathless, a pit in your stomach and a tingle in your chest. You’d hate to admit it to yourself but the way he had defended you turned you on to almost no end. Your heart was beating a million times a minute, deafening in your ears as you blinked at his baby blue eyes.
You almost couldn’t speak, “ ‘m fine.”
“You sure?”
‘’Y-yeah, thank you.”
“Ain’t gotta thank me for nothin’, I’d never let some prick talk to ya’ like that.”
“Daryl?”
You had a bad idea, it was definitely bad and there's no way he’d say yes but your tongue was on a route that your brain couldn’t stop.
“Mhm?” he hummed in response, leaning on his forearms on the counter, so engaged in anything and everything you had to say.
Which made things so much worse for you.
“What are you doing tomorrow night? Are you busy?” you blurted.
Oh, this could be so, so bad.
“What?” He replied, steading himself to stand straight.
Okay, yeah, bad.
“Nevermind, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I-”
“No, no, sorry for what? I ain’t busy tomorrow night, what were you gonna say?”
Daryl looked intrigued, if not a little confused.
“It was stupid, I was gonna ask if you, um, If you’d wanna maybe have dinner or somethin’. Like a date.” You managed to get out, picking at your fingernails with anxiety.
“I ain’t too old for ‘ya?” was the first thing from his mouth after a moment of tense silence.
“Too old?” you questioned, tilting your head, “I’m an adult, Daryl. You can’t be too old for me.”
He sighed, grinning and rubbing the back of his neck as relief filled his body.
“When you want me to pick you up, sweetheart?”
You smiled wide, feeling giddy like this was your very first date all over again.
“Let’s do six o’clock? Here, I’ll give you my address,” you find a piece of a scrapped receipt and scribble your address and phone number, handing it over to him.
He gladly accepts it, folding it and placing it in his jeans pocket.
Before you know it, it’s six o’clock the next evening and you're focused on yourself in the mirror. You’d worn your favorite outfit and done your hair, waiting anxiously for the doorbell.
At five minutes past six, it rang.
You excitedly scurried to the door, opening it to see a slightly nervous Daryl Dixon in his leather vest and flannel button down.
He shook his hair out of his eyes to get a better look at you, making note of every curve and dip that made his head spin.
“You look…real, real pretty,” He managed to mumble out, having a hard time keeping his eyes on yours.
“You do, too,” you teased, stepping out into the evening air and closing the door behind you.
You followed Daryl to his motorcycle, your stomach turning with nerves.
“So where we headin’ off to?” you inquired, watching his broad shoulders in front of you.
“ ‘s a surprise. Figured I outta’ do somethin’ special for a girl like you.”
You blushed, shaking your head and only giggling in response.
“You alright gettin’ on the bike?” He asked sweetly, placing a gentle hand on your elbow.
You could melt under his calloused touch, instinctively leaning your body towards him.
“I should be alright, I think. Just never been on one before,” you caught your lower lip between your teeth.
He noticed the small nervous gesture, reaching over his bike and handing you the single helmet.
“You’re safe with me, alright? Hold on real tight and don’t let go, trust me, ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you,' ' He reassured you.
You hesitated for a moment before tugging the helmet on and letting Daryl help you on the motorcycle behind him. You wrapped your arms tight around his abdomen, leaning your weight on his back.
He was glad you were behind him so you couldn’t see the shade of pink his cheeks had turned or the way he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face even if he tried. You were significantly smaller in stature than he was and he adored the way your smaller arms wrapped tight around him.
“You ready, honey?” He kicked the side stand up, rearing the engine of the bike.
“Sure am, sugar,” You shot back.
His smile grew wider as you both started forward, wind through your clothes sending a light chill through you. The hum of the bike filled your ears as you watched your shadows dance upon the pavement, cast by the late afternoon sun.
Before you knew it, Daryl slowed the bike to a stop and turned to speak to you.
“Wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Nah,” you tried to act nonchalant, though your heart was beating like crazy as you handed him the helmet back, “it was fun.”
“So you’ll let me take ya’ out on it again?”
“Well, I’ll have to if we’re gonna go on any more dates, huh?”
Daryl smiled at your quick response, hopping off the bike and helping you do the same.
You checked out your surroundings, a green and desolate park, open lawns with freshly mowed grass and large oak and willow trees.
“You take me here to kill me?” you joked, watching a dragonfly hover over the cement near your feet.
“Nah, cmon,” Daryl chuckled, waving his hand to motion you to follow him, “got somethin’ set up for ya’. Hope you don’t think it’s stupid, I ain’t ever really…’guess I’ve never been on a real date before, so I, uh…I don’t know, hope you like it, is all.”
His nervous babbling as you followed in his direction into the field of grass made you smile wide.
“I’m sure whatever you got up your sleeve is -”
Words failed to form as you saw what he was leading you to. A blanket was laid out under the shade of a beautifully full weeping willow tree. Containers of all sorts of delicious foods were spread out along with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.
“Oh, Daryl, you did all this? For me?”
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss him right there for being so damn sweet.
“Of course, for you,” Daryl smiled, taking a seat on the blanket and tapping the empty space next to him, “what other sweet lady would I do this for?”
You couldn’t hide the large smile spread across your face as you plopped yourself down next to him, taking in the array of foods.
“Wow, this is…you really out did yourself. This is perfect.” you assured him, taking note of the way he was scanning your features to see what you thought of his gesture.
“Think so? Just wanted to make it ‘nice as I could.”
“Perfect, all of it.” You smiled and opened a container of strawberries, popping one in your mouth and offering some to Daryl.
He took one appreciatively, doing the same.
You had a mischievous idea and picked up a strawberry, offering it to Daryl, “Now is this the part of the date where you feed me strawberries like in the movies?”
You thought he’d laugh, shake off your joke in slight rejection and change the subject.
Instead, he gently took the fruit from your fingers, hovering it in front of your lips.
‘’Yeah? Go ahead.”
Your stomach did back flips and you could’ve sworn it tied itself in knots at his words.
Daryl was glad you didn’t seem to notice the way his hand started to shake.
You leaned in, slowly, and caught the fruit between your teeth. You kept your eyes on his as you bit down, pulling away to wipe the juice from your lips.
Unfortunately (or fortunately) for him, that was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced in his life and he immediately went for the wine to calm his nerves.
You watched him uncork the wine in his lap, noticing the slight bulge in the front of his jeans as he tried to hide it with the bottle, though it didn’t do much.
The way you had to do almost nothing but exist in his presence to make him excited had you biting down a smile, watching his hair fall in front of his face as he finally uncorked the bottle. As he poured your glass, you reached a delicate hand forward and brushed the hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear. His eyes shot up to yours, lost in the way the sun hit them and made the color even more stunning.
You were beautiful, ethereal, an angel on earth he had been blessed to be touched by.
And you made him spill the wine.
“S-shit, sorry, I shoulda’ been lookin’, too distracted,” He laughed a little, glancing at the stain of red wine on the blanket.
‘’Distracted with what?” You teased, grabbing the bottle from his hands to pour him his own glass.
“How am I supposed to pay attention when there’s a pretty girl like you lookin’ at me like that?”
“Like what? I’m just lookin’ at you!” You giggled, going to hand him his wine glass.
“Like that!” he exclaimed with a smile, gesturing with his free hand as he took the glass from you, “with them beautiful damn eyes and that pretty smile and that gorgeous face, drivin’ me damn near insane.”
“Oh, please, you say it to flatter me,” you shook your head and laughed, taking a sip from your glass.
“Nah, but if you wanna feel flattered, I’ll sure keep tryin’,” He said, doing the same, “but it ain’t flattery if it’s true.”
You playfully rolled your eyes and had another snack. Daryl sat back against the tree and watched you intently, your lips, nose, jaw, hair, hands, every bit of you.
“You wanna know somethin’?” He said, gaining your attention.
“Hm?”
“I don’t really go through a pack of smokes a week. I just come in every Friday to see you. I like seein’ your pretty face and I like seein’ you reach up to grab ‘em from the top shelf. It’s cute.”
It felt like he knocked the wind right out of you. He really was too damn sweet.
“And I like talkin’ to ya’, like knowin’ more about ya’. Could talk to you for hours.” he added in admission, smiling in adoration at you.
It was almost too much.
“Daryl?”
He sat up, leaning towards you, “Yeah, sweetheart?”
“I want you to kiss me,” you sighed, watching his eyes change, “please, kiss me.”
He wasted no time in placing a gentle hand on the back of your neck and connecting his lips with yours. His lips were soft against yours and tasted of strawberries and wine and cigarettes. His breathing was soft against your cheek as he deepened the kiss, placing his other hand on your waist and absentmindedly tracing circles with his fingers. Your hands were both in his hair, twirling his locks around your fingers. You both eventually broke apart to gaze at each other, breathless and giddy like teenagers.
“I like you a lot, Daryl.” you admitted, again playing with his hair. He leaned into your touch.
“I like you more.” He smiled, fingers still tracing patterns on your waist.
“Oh, you wanna start that fight?” you teased.
“Only if we can make up at the end,” He smiled.
You kissed him again, this time adjusting yourself to be nearly square on his lap. His breathing hitched and he gazed up at you, swiping gently at the hair that had fallen in front of your face.
“Show me how much you like me.” Was all you had to say to have Daryl’s tongue in your mouth, swiping lovingly and softly.
His hands caressed from your shoulder blades down your back to the sides of your hips, kneading your thighs while you tangled your fingers in his hair. He pulled away just an inch to kiss along your jaw and down your neck, biting and sucking softly, earning small mews and moans from you. You mumbled his name in ecstacy, making him groan against your neck. He continued to kiss back up your neck and jaw to once again meet your mouth, using one hand on the back of your neck to keep you as close against him as you could get.
When you two finally broke away from each other, reluctantly, neither of you could wipe the smiles from your faces.
It was no surprise then, when he dropped you home later and walked you to your door, that you both agreed to a second date.
-------------
wooooo pt2 coming eventually!
#daryl dixon#twd daryl#daryl x reader#the walking dead#daryl x you#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixion imagine
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Ever Locked
Part 5: Now You Know From What
Part 4: Good Night, Bunny
pairing: Older!Leon Kennedy x Ex!Coroner’s Assistant Reader
warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, talks of eating out, build up to enjoying trauma and being stalked
extra: i’m so so so so so sorry for the wait! it’s been insane and this job is killing me. I really can’t wait to find another. I’m still livid i lost my original chapter 5 :( I promise i’m gonna be back to writing, at least one chapter a week since i’m working 10 hour shifts a day for 5 days a week.
"So...", green eyes stare back at me as the hands of the waitress move from my vision. "So?", the warmth of the coffee cup is nice against my hands, the rain and near negative degrees having frozen my fingers as i stretch them against the warm cup. "Don't pull that shit on me.", the deadpan delivery nearly had me snort out coffee as her emerald eyes squint. I had no plans of telling Marina anything, nothing about the man from the bar. Nothing about the years before I came to Seattle. "He really unnerved me is all, asking about me and saying we dated. I never saw him before-", the sharp laughter from her voice in reply to my words had me jump, the liquid bit back at my bottom lip, causing me to wince.
"Don't believe me? Ask Ryan.", I nearly rolled my eyes at my best friend. Her lack of trust was not for no reason, but she just needed to drop it. I didn't want to bring her into the world of Leon Kennedy and the undead, it was hard enough having seen it first hand.
She'd just say it was insane sounding or that i must be lying once more. There seems no real way to get out of this but tell her but i truly did not want to. If it were up to me, Ryan wouldn't even know. With relationship came time to come clean, telling him in detail how my ex treated me and the night that lead up to my old ex treated me and the night that lead up to my old home being burnt to a crisp in a bombing.
"I will not, he'll lie to cover your ass. You're that kind of couple.", her tone was not friendly, her accent heavily German, as she took a bite of her eggs. Her eyes narrowing into mine, i could tell just in that look that she was over having to be left out of a good part of my life. She asked to get breakfast out, How could I say no? "You don't trust me and that's starting to upset me.", she continued, cutting another piece of the white fluffy eggs. "It's not that, Marina." the sigh that left my lips heavy and present within our conversation. "You're wonderful and so, so generous. You started hanging with me since day one at White Wolf, I could never not trust you.", the words came out so quick before i could process them. Yet, here i sat, lying to her face. How could she handle the horror that came? Anyway... it's not like Leon is that stupid to try something so many years later, right?
Blackness swirling across my vision, fingers digging into the hallows of my eyes. "I just need to quit attracting all the weirdos and psychos.", a dull bit of laughter fell from my lips, into the tense air that swam around us. "Hey, at least you've never been on a Dateline episode.", she shrugged, if only she knew how close I truly was to having my photo slapped across tv screens across the country, all the "she lit up the room when she walked in" bullshit. "Yeah, you're right.", the words felt a bit more... distanced than before, it seemed the normality crept away after seeing the blue eyes of an angel of pain.
The sound of my phone buzzing brought me back to reality, carving out a piece of waffle, the phone near my grasp as i reach for it. "Anyway, what time do you-", the number that flashes across the screen attached to the message was unfamiliar, the slightly blurry letters mumbling out a 'Bunny... i know you're angry with me, but give me a chance. I was only protecting you and now you know from what.', i felt like the back of my throat was kissed with acid, the hand holding the fork tightening as my brows pinched together. "Hey- earth to weirdo-", Marina's voice came back into recognition. Her laughter cut off as she realized my look of confusion hadn't changed. "You good? What happened?", her fingers wrapping around the glass of her cup, bringing it to her lips as she sucked from the straw.
"Someone texted the wrong number is all.", my eyes lingered on the glass she held before i looked up at her. "That's common right?", she nodded, "Why do you look like you saw a ghost?", did i really look that upset? My fingers gripping the Razr tighter, "They just said some weird shit.", my hand waved her off as i looked back down at the waffle before me, soaked in with syrup and butter. "You need to relax, honestly. You're so strung up over that guy from the bar and it's ridiculous. If you're being honest then he's just some fucking creep who doesn't want to keep it in his pants.", she shrugged, "simple as that.", and how i wished her words weren't more then a hopeful thought. "You're right, you're right.", i concurred, the waffle being stabbed by my fork before shoving the sickly sweet bite between my lips. The sticky, thick heavy taste of syrup carving its way between my taste buds. I could feel a drip, dribbling from the corner of my lips as my phone goes off once more.
'If you'd gone out with me, I'd love to taste that drop of syrup. You should be more careful, Bunny. Don't wanna stain that pretty black shirt, it's so pretty from the back.', my eyes now widened, feeling my pupils bug out from my head as i snap my head around, searching for the brown scruff or the blue eyes. "Hey- you're acting hella weird, girl.", Marina gave me a 'the fuck is wrong with you?' look. My eyes didn't stop searching for the man himself as I knew he had to be here, somewhere. He was a bold bastard, he knew how much this was bothering me as i got another text. 'Aw, searching so hard for me... i'm not easy to catch, Bun.', the sound of a motorcycle revving up caught my ears, snapping my eyes through the window to see a black leather jacket with white pin stripes. Mother fucker- that's him. That's the same jacket he had at the bar. That fucker was watching me.
I had half a mind to hop up and chase down his ass but that would accomplish nothing more than give him more of an opening to my life. He slipped the black helmet over his now brownish hair, fingers clicking through buckle in place as he revved up once more, taking out of the diner parking lot and heading back deeper into town. "Hottie on a bike- you have a boyfriend, miss thing.", Marina joked as i tried to crack a smile for her. "Yeah... just interested in the bike is all.", my words weren't the strongest but i giggled to give her more of a confident answer. The waffle now half eaten as i ran my fork over the pooled up brown amber liquid. "The bike?", her scoff was humor filled. "Yeah, sure and i'm interested in seeing anything as long as it's under a hot man.", she laughed as her explicit meaning was caught. My eyes rolled back as far as they could before i leaned over the table once more. "Shit up and eat your eggs before they get cold from all your talking.", i pointed my fork towards her plate as she poked my fork with hers. "You do the same, been on that waffle for 30 minutes now.", this is why we were best friends, her attitude rivaled mine but in the best way possible.
——————
"You're sure it's him.", I didn't see Ryan much at work, usually just at home or at a restaurant for his breaks. "Yes, i'm sure.", my arms crossed tightly under my chest, his eyes flickering to my tits before back up at me. "You said his name was... Leon...", he snapped his fingers, left hand on his hip as he tried to recall the creeps name. "Leon Scott Kennedy.", my eye narrowed, it seemed everyone had a great 'let's piss her off all day' meeting yesterday. "Right, you still got the test and the number?", he reached out for my phone, his large fingers brushing mine as i passed off the flip phone to him. "Yeah, just- hurry up and get back to me about the restraining order.", my hand fell to my hip. "I don't know if he's going to try anything but just knowing that he was watching me at Benny's.", a shiver ran up my spine at the thought. What if he came into our home? What if he had been watching for longer than i thought before?
"I promise, my love-", his lips pressed to the crown of my head, "-you're my priority at the moment.", he squeezed on my bicep, opening the flip phone and reading the message. His hand gripping the phone in a grip so hard i thought he’d snap the device before he handed it back to me. His hands pulling up his slacks before he wiped at his nose, eyes on the floor before he looked up at me. "You tell me as soon as you get another message. I don't care where you are or if he's watching. Call me and tell me.", he pointed at the phone in my hand. I knew his jealousy had a mean steak but this seemed to tip him off harder than before as he ran his fingers through his hair.
"He like that when you were together?", it was rude, his tone asking and demanding an answer rather than the sweet one usually used to not push her. "No... he was shy back then and a little unexperienced.", i'm not sure why i answered but i did, just to make him feel better. My words seemed to have the opposite reaction of deescalation to escalating the entire thing- before i knew it, my back was pressed to the top of his desk, papers and cups falling over the other side of the mahogany desk. "He didn't know how to treat a pussy as good as yours.", his words came quick as he snatched the joggers off my legs, the wet patch across my underwear definitely not from seeing Leon on that bike from earlier. Something has to be wrong with me... to get so turned on from my psycho ex stalking me.
"Pussy's so wet f' me.", his lips pressed a kiss onto the soaked gusset of the pink underwear. "So soaking wet, don't even gotta ease you up, bed you could take my cock right now.", has i know jealousy was the one thing to break the man- i would've told him more about the men at work. His tongue danced across the gusset, drawing small photos as he teased. "Ry-", my lips bit between my lips. "Be quiet, slut.", he scoffed, his fingers ripping the pink fabric before his pointer and middle fingers tucked the material into the parting of my lips. "Dont need all my coworkers hearing your whore mouth. They'll try to get in this pussy too, you'd like that wouldn't you? Pussy so full of cocks, that's why you didn't tell me about your ex, right? You wanted all day to come to me and tell me he was watching you. Bet he likes to watch you shower too, see you fingers that cunt-", he breathed onto my wet slit, causing a shiver to crawl up my spine.
I know that i shouldn't be turned on by thinking about Leon Kennedy, especially after all the shit and trauma he put me through, but some trauma's manifest themselves on weird ways- mine being i am always turned on by the things he did. That's why i stayed those days... maybe he's not the only fucked up one. Maybe he fucked me up, made me some stupid, small girl. Made me conform to what he gave me... in that little of time, he conditioned me to his type of affection and god- did i love and hate it.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy x reader#resident evil#yandere leon#yandere leon kennedy#resident evil 2#puppy leon#puppy!leon kennedy#resident evil x you#resident evil 4#yandere re2 leon#yandere vendetta leon#yandere re6 leon#yandere!leon kennedy x reader#yandere#rpd leon#re4 leon#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy smut#leon smut#leon resident evil#resident evil leon#di leon#leon kennedy#leon kennedy drabble#leon kennedy ff#female writers#leon x you#leon scott kennedy#leon s kennedy smut
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siren song - chapter 6*
previous chapter: chapter 5
Masterlist
A/N: FIRST: I edited last chapter and added more detail. I wasn't really happy with how it turned out so there's a bit more. Also, MAJOR NSFW warning!! First time writing out smut so I hope it turned out okay!!
Ghost
31 August 2022
1300, Mexican Special Forces Base, Las Almas
As he ran an oiled rag over the barrel of his gun, Ghost thought of summer storms.
Everyone knew when they were coming; the clouds themselves were enough, but the sweet thickness of the air that accompanied them was a dead giveaway. As was the silence the preceded its arrival, the sounds of birds and insects both absent.
Everyone knew the destruction they caused, evident by the flooding and harsh winds that knocked tree trunks onto houses. Roads left undrivable, buildings in ruin.
And even knowing when these storms were about to hit land and knowing the devastation they could leave in their wake, people still sat on their porches and watched as darkness neared, not bothering to hide from its wrath.
And to some, this may seem foolish.
But a Ghost was not one of those people.
He knew there was a beauty in the calm before the storm but also the havoc swirling within it. Lightening tangled like spider webs in the sky would brighten the night like no other, and the heavy downpour didn’t have to feel like drowning; sometimes it was a drink of water after nearly dying of thirst.
And maybe because of all these things, he thought of her too.
She was an enigma. Calm like a gentle breeze, but fervent like a wildfire. Seemingly ruthless and sadistic, but merciful and disciplined. She was not afraid of him, and that was a rare thing in itself; Most people avoided Ghost, not that he was complaining. But she wasn’t fazed, didn’t look at him different because of the mask he wore, and that alone was a fact he reveled in.
During their fight, he could feel the measure of her strength with every hit and determination with every block. The feeling her mouth wrapped around his thumb kept coming to his mind over and over, as did the sight of her smug expression after she bested him. And most of all, the look she gave him afterwards, when he pulled her in close; desire and longing, one he wasn’t sure he could deny if it came down to it.
Ghost took a couple of deep breaths, trying his best to push out all of the images of her. Her sultry gaze, a lacy bra underneath a white tank top dotted with blood, the sound of her moans over the comms, the feel of her against his body.
“Fuck…” Ghost mumbled, finally managing to wrangle up his errant thoughts and return to the task at hand.
He was reassembling his weapon with ease, barely even registering the motions, when Soap walked in.
“Lt.,” he greeted, setting his rifle bag at the foot of his bed. Ghost nodded his head in return and traded out the newly assembled weapon for his side arm. As he began taking the pistol apart, Soap sat on the side of the bed.
“Has Siren come back yet?” Soap asked him.
Back? Ghost thought. He wasn’t aware that she had gone anywhere.
“Last I saw her was a few hours ago. No idea where she is now,” Ghost told him.
Soap hummed in acknowledgement, a contemplative look on his face. “Shepherd called for her about a half hour ago.”
That struck Ghost as odd. Not that he didn’t think she was capable of dealing with Shepherd; no, he was more concerned that he, a Lieutenant, was not asked for.
“Wonder why,” Ghost said out loud.
Soap shrugged. “Think it was about the other night?”
Ghost could guess that he was talking about the night she went undercover. A night he was sure he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
“‘Dunno,” Ghost said.
Probably not, he thought to himself. Shepherd didn’t seem too phased by it and from his instructions that night, he seemed to expect that level of performance.
Before he could contemplate anymore, the woman plaguing his thoughts walked through the door to their room, barely sparing either of them a glance as she hurridely grabbed her bag and headed to the bathroom. Ghost and Soap shared a puzzled look, not sure what to think of her lack of acknowledgement.
—
Siren
31 August 2022,
1400, Mexican Special Forces base, Las Almas
You looked in the mirror and once again, you were someone different.
There were no indications of a hardened soldier or an assassin who preyed on weak men. The woman in front of you had kind eyes and a soft smile, a vision of what could have been if life had dealt you a different hand. Sometimes you mourned that life; Maybe by now you’d have a little house and a nice partner to settle down with. But every time you tried to imagine it, you just couldn’t. It was more like forcing a puzzle piece into where it didn’t fit; it would never work, not without cutting out parts of yourself.
Instead of the tight ponytail you typically sported, your hair laid over your left collarbone in an easy braid. The makeup you wore was subtle this time. You didn’t need to stand out; you didn’t need to be the most stunning, most desirable woman this time. You needed to blend in, inconspicuous enough to get near but not draw too much attention. You wore a flowy yellow and orange sundress topped with a jean jacket. You looked “normal” and that was exactly what you were going for.
You put a knife in your jacket pocket and left the bathroom, tote in hand. You walked out and placed the tote by your bed before turning to your teammates. You felt their stares from the moment you walked in and that didn’t change once you left the bathroom in civilian clothes.
“What did Shepherd need you for?” Soap asked as you got a crossbody purse to put your wallet in.
“He wants me to go out for intel,” you told him. “Just me.”
“Alone?” Ghost asked incredulously. “No backup?”
You nodded and put on your flats.
“Not sure that’s a great idea,” Soap commented.
“Regardless, it’s a direct order,” you said, looking at both of them. “I’m not doing what I did last time. Its minimal contact, just listening for Alejandro’s boys to translate.”
“It’s reckless is what it is,” Ghost told you sternly.
You rolled your eyes before letting out a sigh. “You’ve never gone on a mission alone with no backup?”
Ghost didn’t respond to that which is exactly what you expected. He seemed the type to work alone with little to no protections that he’d come out alive.
“You don’t know me, Lieutenant,” you said harshly, taking a step closer to him so you could look glare into his eyes. “You have no idea what kind of shit I have done. The kind where a wrong move leads to death and extraction isn’t an option. This is nothing. Just because I’m not a man—“
“That’s not what this is about,” Ghost interrupted, stepping even closer so you were toe-to-toe. “We are a team. I don’t give a fuck if it’s you or Soap. We shouldn’t take risks if we don’t have to.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. Direct orders from Shepherd supersede yours.”
For a brief moment, you glared at each other, neither of you giving in.
“She’s got a point,” Soap said, much to Ghost’s chagrin.
Ghost took a breath as if he were going to respond but you spoke instead. You needed to get out there soon and going back-and-forth with your superior wasn’t getting you anywhere. “I’ll wear an earpiece this time. You can talk to me if you need to and let me know if they hear anything suspicious. The braid should cover it.”
A beat passed.
“Fine,” Ghost conceded, the slight frustration present in his tone. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
You hummed in acknowledgement and watched as he left the room, likely to the control room.
You gathered your things, tossed a goodbye to Soap over your shoulder, and began looking for Alejandro to let him know the plan and to acquire an earpiece.
—
Once again, you found yourself in a bar in Las Almas, different than the previous one for obvious reasons.
You sat alone at a table in the corner of the room, sipping a cranberry vodka and mentally going over your backstory today. You weren’t planning on needing it but men have come up to you unprovoked before.
Today you were Isabella, 25, on vacation from your job. You worked in sales at an advertisement company in the US but were open to other opportunities if they were offered. You made sure your body language was relaxed and casual, and to not linger look anywhere for too long.
It was a moderately populated bar, with patrons playing pool, watching a soccer game on TV, and chatting amongst themselves. You were near a table of men that you were fairly confident were cartel members but didn’t get a good enough look to know for sure. You were hoping the mic would pick up their voices from where you were, but if not, you may have to improvise.
“Alright, hang tight Sergeant while Alejandro listens in,” Ghost said over the comms. You couldn’t really respond so you complied, just sipping your drink and feigning interest in the ongoing game on TV.
In all honesty, you were surprised Shepherd hadn’t wanted more out of you. When he was desperate for results, he normally sent you in with execute authority, willing to toe the line of legality as long as it got answers. And you were fine with that. You made yourself into the weapon that you were, it would be idiotic to not use it. You didn’t lose a bit of sleep over the people he sent you after; they were evil in more ways than one and normally involved in nefarious practices outside of terrorism.
“Keep doing what you’re doing. We’re getting something.”
And so, you did.
You allowed your gaze to roam over to the table of about five men, only picking out a few words from their conversation. A name appeared a few times, “Diego”, possibly something for the Los Vaqueros to look into.
As you looked around, you saw a different group of men, about three, get up from their place at the bar. Just as it looked like they were about to leave, one of them turned around and started walking your way.
You hoped he was going to the bathroom just so you didn’t have to talk to him and ruin any intel coming through from the mic. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem you would be that lucky tonight.
“Hola,” he greeted with a charming smile. “I’ve never seen you here before.”
Just as he had begun talking to you, Ghost’s voice rang out in your ear. “Get rid of him, Sergeant.”
“Oh, hi!” you greeted with a smile. “I’m on vacation. It’s my first time here actually.”
“Maybe I could show you around some?” he suggested, standing closer to the seat you were in, leaning on the table with one of his hands.
“I’m sorry,” you said with a small, embarrassed smile. “I have a boyfriend. I’m actually waiting for him here.”
“Oh,” he said, looking a little dejected. “I hope you have a good time.”
You nodded and watched his retreating form.
“Good girl.”
You sucked in a breath of surprise at the praise.
Bastard, you thought to yourself. His voice was so dark and deep, and now closer than ever since he was literally talking just to you over the comms. And he knew what he was doing. Likely an attempt to get you back from your fight earlier and the tactics you used.
A little bit of time passed, filled with you keeping your mind under control and Ghost updating you on their progress. Just as you finished your second drink, the men at the table got up to leave. And, just as you suspected, they sported tattoos of the cartel symbol on their bodies.
“Alright, we’ll be there soon,” Ghost said. “Don’t go anywhere.”
You paid your tab in cash and left the building shortly after, content to wait on a bench for your ride to pick you up.
Thoughts of Ghost were becoming quite distracting; the feel of his body against yours, his hand around your neck, a hand inching up your thigh after stitching you up. He was effortlessly intoxicating and all you wanted to do was breathe him in. You weren’t blind, either. You knew that he had to feel it too. Why else would he react so strongly after the fight?
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Siren”
And why did that warning feel more like an invitation?
—-
You made it back to the base after being escorted by one of Alejandro’s men. You weren’t summoned for a meeting about their findings yet so you headed back to your shared room, hoping to get out of the dress and back into your tactical clothes.
Upon arriving, you saw Ghost sitting on the edge of his bed, cleaning his weapons again. It was almost ritual-like, with how often he would clean them.
Soap was nowhere to be seen, likely at the dining hall.
“Lieutenant,” you greeted. He looked up and nodded in return, going back to his task without a further word.
You went into the bathroom and began deconstructing Isabella. You took out your braid and let your locks fall naturally around your face. You hung your jean jacket on a towel rack outside of the door, leaving only your sundress to unzip.
You reached around the back to reach the zipper, but it was at a very awkward angle, and not something you could do by yourself.
You sighed. Perhaps this could be the opportunity you had been waiting for to finally get him out of your system.
“Ghost?” you called out. “Can you help me for a sec?”
You felt giddiness rise in your chest, and for once in a long time, it was not because you were preparing to kill someone.
You heard faint footsteps getting closer and two knocks on the bathroom door. You opened it to find your Lieutenant eyeing you warily like you were a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Smart man.
You stepped away to let him in and shut the door behind him.
“I can’t unzip this,” you told him, gesturing to your dress. “Could you do it for me? Please?”
He nodded once and you turned to face the mirror.
As he came up behind you, you felt the need to push a little bit, just to see what would come of it.
“I told you it wasn’t dangerous.”
He met your gaze in the mirror and narrowed his eyes. “You were lucky.”
“Maybe so,” you replied, feeling his warm hand make contact with your back where the zipper was. “I think I did a great job, though. Worthy of a reward if I do say so myself.”
Every breath between you felt measured, both of you trying to figure the other out as you neared a precipice you couldn’t back away from.
He hummed in acknowledgement and began slowly dragging the zipper down, eyes never breaking from yours.
“After all, you said I was a good girl,” you teased, a smirk forming.
A hand flew to your waist, holding you still as the zipper finally reached the bottom of its track.
You were presenting a clear challenge with your eyes alone, one that you hoped he would take. However, you could see him debating with himself, so you decided to take matters into your own hands with a little provocation.
“Show me what it’s like to be with someone other than people like them,” you told him pointedly.
“Like who?”
“Those weak men,” you said, taking the hand on your waist and guiding it up to your abdomen, “the ones that never take a chance,” and up higher, “the ones that can’t keep up,” and leaving it to rest on your covered breast while you whispered the last part.
“The ones that can’t make me cum.”
A hand flew up to grip your throat, causing you to grin at the motion while he pushed his body tight against yours.
“You’re something else, Siren.” His voice was deeper than you’d ever heard it and it only multiplied the feeling of your arousal.
“I know.” You smiled at him and watched his eyes darken.
He released your throat and pulled the straps of your sundress down your shoulders and peeled it off slowly. It fell to the ground, pooling around your feet, leaving you in a lacy set of underwear and strapless bra while he was fully dressed in tactical gear minus a vest.
You reached around and removed your bra; immediately a hand found your breast and began tugging on your already hardened peak, making you release a quiet moan of pleasure.
Before you could really get into it, his other hand threaded itself into the hair at the base of your skull and made a fist, pulling your head back to look at him in the mirror.
“One rule,” he said. You nodded as best as you could, still slightly distracted by his hand traveling from your breast down your abdomen and stopping right when the tips of his fingers reached your panty line.
“With me, you’re real,” he ordered. “No fake moans. If something doesn’t feel good, you’re going to tell me. This isn’t your job; this is just us.”
You nodded reverently but he tightened his grip causing you to hiss in pleasure-pain.
“Say it.”
“Yes, Ghost. Just us. Now fucking touch me you bastard.”
He chuckled lowly, sliding his hand underneath your underwear and running his fingers through your folds.
“Soaked,” he commented smugly, dragging some of your wetness up to rub your bundle of nerves with his middle finger. You watched the outline of his hand in the mirror, the veins in his arm, the muscles flexing as he began moving his fingers in circles.
“Fuck,” you whispered, just this small touch making you feel so good, so much better than when you touched yourself. “More,” you demanded.
Ghost removed his hand, causing you to whimper at the loss. He spun you around and both of his hands found the edges of your underwear and dragged them down, leaving you completely bare before him. He lifted you by the waist to sit on the sink, your back against the mirror.
He put his hands on both knees and spread them apart, exposing your arousal to him. You watched his eyes flare and his chest rise and fall faster.
He brought his middle and ring finger of one hand to your lips.
“Suck.”
You eagerly opened your mouth and hollowed out your cheeks, caressing his fingers with your tongue. Instead of just staying still like last time, his moved his fingers forward, deeper into your mouth. You stared at him as you swallowed them down, not choking on the digits as he tested your gag reflex. He quietly groaned and removed his now slicked fingers.
The same hand reached down and cupped the apex of your thighs, rubbing your clit a few times before easing his fingers into you, causing your eyes to roll backwards. When you opened your eyes, he waited for you to look right at him before curling them up, eliciting a true moan, one you hadn’t ever heard come from yourself.
He built up a rhythm, going in and out, curling his fingers with every plunge inside, a pressure building up in your abdomen. You were in a constant state of pleasure, mindless to the rest of the world besides the masked man in front of you.
Ghost continued to finger fuck you, dirty and slow, pushing moans out of you effortlessly. You knew you were getting closer and closer and couldn’t stop your words or reactions.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you cried out, thighs beginning to shake.
His unoccupied hand came up to grip your chin and level your stare with his.
“Watch me when you cum,” he ordered. You nodded enthusiastically, not willing to take your eyes off of his.
He sped up and rubbed your clit with his thumb on every push in. You moaned loudly, your eyes becoming hooded as the pleasure became too much for your body to handle. You watched him right as he shoved you over the edge, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. He helped you ride out your orgasm and when you came down, he removed his fingers, now more slick than they were from your mouth.
Ghost’s other hand raised his balaclava enough to reveal his lips, and he placed his fingers coated in your slick into his mouth, groaning as the taste hit his tongue.
“Your cunt tastes fucking good,” he growled, pulling your boneless form off of the sink and turning you around once again, making you lean against the sink on your hands. Even though you just came, you were drunk on him and wanted him even more, wanted anything he’d give you.
“Fuck me, Ghost,” you demanded, sticking your ass out a little, desperate to feel his cock splitting you open.
“Gladly.” His hands fumbled to undo his belt and pants. You felt his warm, velvety cock against your ass and watched as he spat down on his hand. He stroked himself a few times before lining himself up behind you, looking at you before moving.
“Please,” you whispered.
Ghost pushed his hips forward, his cock entering you in one go and causing you to drop your jaw from the fullness while he let out a loud groan.
“Fucking hell,” he said, hands coming up to grip your hips tightly. He pulled almost all the way out before thrusting harshly back in and forcing a moan from you. He filled you just right, on the right side of painful and the epitome of pleasure.
As he rocked in and out, pulling your hips back into him on every thrust in, you thought that if you died right now, you’d be fucking happy, being impaled on this man’s cock.
You have been fucked by countless men but nothing, nothing could ever compare to the borderline religious experience you were having as his length buried itself inside of you over and over again.
You watched his eyes in the mirror; he would look downward to where he was disappearing inside of you and then up to your face, meeting your eyes with an intensity you’d never seen before. His thrusts picked up in pace, but he never sacrificed firmness for speed, the slap of his hips hitting your skin echoing in the bathroom.
Your moans also picked up in frequency as you began to approach your peak once more, his cock hitting the spot deep inside you perfectly each time. You gripped the sink edge so hard that your fingertips were white with the effort.
He pulled you upright, one hand wrapped around your neck, causing an arch to form in your back as he fucked you. His other hand travelled down to your clit and circled it with precision, causing your pleasure to skyrocket tenfold.
“Oh my god…” you cried as his thrusts continued with a deadly consistency.
“Cum,” Ghost told you. “Cum on my cock.”
You cried out the only name you had for him. He shoved himself inside of you deep and held there while you shook and spasmed around him.
“Fuckin’ good girl,” he said in that gravely tone of his.
He maneuvered your body into another position, bending you more forward and holding your arms behind you. With one hand gripping your shoulder and the other holding your arms, he pulled out slowly and slammed back in, causing an almost-sob to come out of you. You felt so damn good, tears started to prick at the corner of your eyes.
The sound of your wetness became very loud as he continued to move in and out, joining the sound of heavy breathing, skin on skin, and your uncontrolled moans.
“So fucking wet,” he groaned, fucking you with an such an intensity that you wouldn’t be surprised to see bruises on you the next day. In fact, you hoped you would, if only to remind you that this wasn’t some dream.
He sped up again; The way he held your body meant that with every thrust in, it jolted you forward but his hands stopped you and brought you backwards instead, making it feel like his cock was pounding into you even deeper than before. You watched yourself getting fucked by your Lieutenant; you looked so fucked out and in a daze. He wasn’t unaffected though. His eyes would occasionally roll back in pleasure and groans would surface after a particularly deep thrust.
“God, Ghost, you feel so good,” you told him. “Never felt like this before.”
“Good.”
Before long, his thrusts became more erratic, signaling he was reaching his end as well. He let go of your arms and instead gripped your waist.
“Touch yourself,” he choked out. You obeyed, rubbing your clit with a furious intensity. You felt yourself approaching an orgasm for the third time, the feeling rapidly increasing with his more vocal groans as he neared the end.
“Shit,” you cried out, falling into pleasure a final time, muscles twitching so badly that Ghost had to hold up most of your weight. By the time you came back to yourself, he couldn’t hold back anymore.
He quickly pulled out and came on your lower back, a heavy groan echoing through the bathroom. You both were still for a second, catching your breath.
He was the first to move; he grabbed a washcloth and wiped his spend from your back and rubbed his fingers over the already forming bruises on your waist from when he came.
“’S okay,” you told him, voice hoarse from use. “We should do that again.”
Your Lieutenant looked back up at you. You were a bit of a mess, with hair mussed and a full-body flush present from all the blood rushing. But that didn’t stop you from giving him a serious stare.
“I’m serious,” you told him. “This doesn’t have to be the last time.”
“We’ll see.”
“You’re welcome to stay but I’m going to shower. We worked up quite a sweat.”
He nodded and was quiet for a second.
“I’m going to go out. Don’t need Soap investigating where we both went if he comes back.”
You nodded in agreement and watched as he tucked himself back in his pants and fixed his belt before walking out. You weren’t offended that he was leaving. You were honest about your intentions; it didn’t need to be anything more than sex.
You had a pleasant ache in your muscles, and you felt sore in all the right places, something you hadn’t really ever felt. You were being honest when you said you hadn’t felt anything like that before.
Hopefully it happens again. And soon.
Taglist:
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#ghost#simon ghost riley smut#ghost fanfiction#simon ghost riley#ghost smut#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x you#ghost x reader#cod mw22
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Making Amends - Hazy - Prompt 18, Chapter 5
@felixmonth, @stainedglassm
Summary: For Felix Month 2021 - beware, the chapters are not in chronological order^^
When Felix loses a bet with his cousin, he has to make amends with Adrien’s friends. Well, at least this provides a good excuse to spent a lot of time with Adrien’s “very good friend”, a certain designer, who may or may not be described as tolerable … or cute.
This may not be so bad.
Yeah, not bad at all.
AO3 | Masterlist
Prompts: First | Previous | Next
Chapters: First | Previous | Next
"Nevertheless," continued Poirot, "in view of what has happened, the police there would like to have another look at the anonymous letter I received. I have said that you and I will go down to Andover at once."
An ear-piercing thunder outside the bay window made Felix jump. He looked up and realised to his surprise that he hadn't even noticed the dark clouds that had claimed the sky. When he had started reading The ABC Murders, one of his favourite Poirot novels by Agatha Christie, only a short while ago the sky had been a cerulean blue, dotted only by a few soft-looking clouds here and there. Now it seemed like the apocalypse had come, another great flood hell-bent on drowning all of Paris. The city lay almost abandoned in the darkness of the overcast sky, which was quite unusual for this hour. Strong winds ripped through streets and alleyways, jolting the shutters of the windows and shaking, no, nearly bending the trees lining the streets of the posh neighbourhood he lived in. The window pane was cold enough that his breath left a small spot on the glass. Another bolt of lightning illuminated the world outside the window for a few moments soon accompanied by its roaring thunder. Heavy drops of rain pounded against the window forming small rivulets as the water ran down the glass.
To be honest, it was the perfect weather for an afternoon reading session with his favourite detective novel. And still, the sudden change in weather didn't sit well with him.
Felix pulled out his phone to check the news. Maybe this was the result of an akuma attack? If he remembered correctly there had been an akuma with weather-based powers in the past. Weather Girl or Storm Witch or something like that. She, like practically every akuma victim, looked nearly as bad as every poor model who had to wear one of his uncle's creations. That was the one relevant information he took from Marinette's rant over text back then. The rant had started with her disappointment over her losing the chance to model with Adrien to the girl she babysat that day, although she was happy the girl had a good time. Felix deliberately forgot this detail and selectively remembered the complaint about the design of the one akuma he heard about before he caused three of them at the same time.
There had indeed been an akuma battle earlier but the victim hadn't possessed any weather powers. In the end, the hero duo won the battle with some safety pins. Felix was confident that the local heroine was well-versed in this item's utilisation.
The lights in the den suddenly turned on and Felix looked over to the door where his mother had just stepped into the room. “Felix, how often have I told you to turn on the lights and not read in the dark? You’re ruining your eyes by doing that,” she reprimanded him, but her voice was gentle. “I just noticed the storm when I heard the thunder. But thank you for turning on the lights,” he answered and looked out again, watching the spectacle for another minute before he wanted to return his attention to his novel.
“It’s really coming down now,” he heard his mother mutter. She had stepped to the window next to him and looked out with a frown. And as much as Felix would like to return to his book, he had a feeling that his mother actually wanted to talk to him about something. Of course, it could also be that she just didn't get the hint that the still-opened book in his lap was
“I just thought how a storm like this is the perfect weather for an afternoon with my favourite detective,” Felix told her and glanced back down to the pages of his novel. "The ABC Murders again?" she wanted to know. There was a slight smile on her lips when she looked at him, but Felix could read the worry in her eyes. He closed the book, showing her the cover to let her know that she was correct, and placed it next to himself.
"What's wrong? I can see that you are worried. Is it Gabriel? What did he do this time?" His mother shook her head. "No, Gabriel doesn't have anything to do with this. At least as far as I know. It's just …" She fell silent and turned fully to him.“Have you heard anything from Marinette?” she asked after a moment of silence.
Felix froze. Why would his mother ask about Marinette? He felt a bit queasy the more he mulled over her words. Was she just trying to make conversation? Or did she have another reason? There had been an akuma battle. Had his mother figured out who Ladybug was as well? Or did he give something away? He could have sworn he didn't change his behaviour after he found out. “Not since school today. Is there a reason you asked?” he carefully probed, trying to seem nonchalant about it. His mother turned back to the window and watched the storm, but her frown had deepened.
“I called Sabine earlier and asked her if we could get something delivered. Initially, she told me that the delivery man had to leave for an emergency, but right at that moment Marinette came back from babysitting the daughter of a friend and she said she would send Marinette to us,” she explained and finally sat down next to him.
“Mrs Cheng sent her daughter out into pandemonium?” he questioned in disbelief and gestured at the apocalyptic conditions outside. His mother shook her head. “That was before the storm. I guess Marinette had to take shelter when that akuma attacked. The battle took place right between the bakery and our building. And right after that, the thunderstorm started. I had hoped she might have sent you a message to let you know she would be late. But if she hasn’t …” His mother fell silent once more, visibly perturbed by the thought of a young teenager running an errand in a storm like this.
Felix picked up his phone again to take a look at his messaging app, but when he couldn't find a text or a voice message from his friend he tried to call her. He had no success, so he put his book down and stood up. “Felix? Where are you going?” He turned at the door back to his mother. “It’s not like Marinette to worry others. If she could, she would let us know she's late. So, I’ll go out to find her,” he declared.
“Felix, look outside! You can’t be serious! We can call the police-”
“I am perfectly serious, mother. If I’m not back or haven’t told you where I am in half an hour, you can still call the police. But I will go out and look for Marinette. After all, if anything happened to her it’s because you asked for a delivery when you could have sent someone. And I will also let Mrs. Cheng know not to spring more responsibilities on Marinette. She already seems to drown in all the burdens people just load on her.”
With that, he got a coat and decided with a look out another window against an umbrella and instead took a rain poncho to go out. The strong wind would have just ripped the umbrella from his hands.
Outside he could only see as far as a few meters. The rain came down heavy and shallow rivers ran down the streets. He tried to walk around at least the bigger puddles, but he couldn’t avoid them all and soon his feet felt wet and cold. He wasn't really angry and immediately regretted his harsh words. His mother had no idea about everything Marinette was juggling. It was his own worry that had made him react harsher than he usually would.
The streets were pretty empty. Most people probably took shelter when the akuma attacked and stayed there when the storm followed after, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t what Marinette had done. After being held up by the akuma she would have felt guilty for being late, so she would have tried to make it as fast as possible through the storm. The thought of her out here all alone gave him another freezing shiver which had nothing to do with the cold rain or the biting wind that found its way under his coat.
It only took ten minutes to find her. Felix had held his eyes open and when he found a person with black hair lying on the pavement he recognised the girl immediately. “Marinette?” Felix gently shook her shoulder and when she wouldn’t react he shook her harder. A groan stopped him. “Marinette?” he repeated with slight trepidation. “Felix?” she slurred and closed her eyes again. Felix looked at his phone to check the time. He could call an ambulance and wait with her, but he could bring her back to his apartment faster than the ambulance could be here. It was only a few minutes, he had taken longer to get here because he was searching and had to be sure since the visibility conditions were quite poor. But he could call his mother and have her call for a doctor and he could bring her to the apartment. By doing this he could try to get her warm and dry while waiting for a doctor.
Decision made he pulled the rain poncho off and draped it carefully over Marinette. After that he called his mother and let her know about his plan then he turned back to Marinette. Felix left the box with the bakery’s logo that had spilt next to her where it was. That stupid delivery was the reason she was in this state. Well, maybe one of the reasons. The pastries were soggy anyway, so nobody would eat them anymore.
The boy tried to pick up Marinette carefully. He made sure to cover her with the poncho as much as possible, so she would be protected from the rain for now. He also held her close to his chest in a desperate effort to share his remaining warmth with the sogging wet icy bundle in his arms as he made his way back to the apartment at a hurried pace.
“Felix?” he heard the girl in his arms rasp after he started walking back to his apartment. “Shhh, Marinette. Everything will be fine. I’ll bring you back to my apartment and we’ll get you dry and warm and comfy there, alright?” he reassured her, but he wasn’t sure whether she could hear him over the thunder and the rain pattering against the material of the poncho. Still, Marinette seemed to relax at his words. “Ev'ything's so hazy. 'don’ like it,” he heard her complain and he felt how she snuggled her face against his shoulder. “We will make the haze disappear,” he promised her after a moment he took to take a deep breath. Marinette just sighed and didn’t stir again until he was back at his building.
The lift couldn’t be fast enough and at the door, he rang the bell and knocked against the door. With his arms full of a bundle of unconscious designer he couldn’t unlock the door on his own. His mother opened, the worry and guilt written across her face. “You found her!” she exclaimed in relief. “Ines has prepared the guest bedroom for her. Ines? Can you help to get her out of her wet clothes? Felix, could you go and get some of your lounge attire? It’s probably still too big, but not as big as my clothes would be.”
Although Felix was loath to leave Marinette for even a second, he agreed that Marinette wouldn’t want him there when she was changed into dry clothes, so he left. In his wardrobe, he looked for the softest, comfiest clothes he had and soon returned with them to his mother. While he was waiting to be allowed back in he heard the bell ring and answered the door. It was the doctor his mother called. He allowed the woman in and led her to the bedroom. His mother came back out and waited with him in front of the door.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she finally admitted. And Felix knew that. He wasn’t truly angry with his mother. Of course, she would assume it was fine if Marinette’s mother said so. He couldn’t blame this on her. He was just worried and his mother was there.
“I know,” he replied and offered her a hug which she accepted. “I’ll still need to have a serious talk with Marinette’s parents and with Marinette. She was lucky. Who knows if she would be as lucky the next time? She needs to take things slower or she needs someone to keep an eye on everything she does, so she won’t overdo herself.”
Actually, this wasn’t a bad idea. He was brilliant at planning and organising. Maybe Marinette would agree to have him manage her schedule. It would give him the perfect reason to spend more time with her as well. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He would approach Marinette about this when she felt better and not a moment earlier.
"Felix?" He looked away from the door to the guest room to his mother. "You're drenched. Go, take a hot bath or at least change into dry clothes as well. I'm sure Marinette wouldn't want you to get sick. The doctor is with her and Ines and I are here. It's going to be fine. You can take care of your own well-being now." She was right. Felix took a deep breath and let it go slowly. He felt the tension slowly leave his body and exhaustion settle in. If he took a bath, he would only fall asleep there, so he decided to just change his clothes. "Thank you, Mom," he croaked and turned away. The worry didn't leave him altogether, but the queasy feeling he had was barely there anymore only to return with a vengeance when he came back in lounge attire to see the doctor talk in a hushed and severe voice to his mother.
“-After enough rest, she should be fine,” the woman ended just as he arrived at the door. She couldn’t tell them more but would inform Marinette’s parents about the details. Felix wasn't satisfied with that, but there wasn't anything he could do. The doctor told them enough to properly take care of Marinette, any more information about her health would be reserved for her family. And after all, this was another way to let them know how dangerous the situation was, by a medical professional no less. He stepped into the room and sat down next to Marinette. No matter how tired he was, he wanted to assure himself of her health condition. Carefully he took her hand in his and gently stroked it. It pained him to see his fiery friend this vulnerable and fragile and he swore to himself, he would never allow anything like this to happen to her again. He would have to be there to prevent a repeat!
“Felix?” he heard Marinette mutter once more. Said boy felt his heart beat a bit faster and stronger. He changed his position so he sat down next to her on the bed and his fingers clasped her hand with a bit more force. “I’m here, Marinette. I’m with you.” The girl smiled a bit. “‘s not hazy an'more. ‘s comfy. Like promised,” she slurred and pulled his hand next to her face to snuggle it as she slipped back into sleep. Felix stayed right next to her on the bed until her parents arrived to bring her back home.
#miraculous ladybug#marinette dupain cheng#felix graham de vanily#felinette#felinette fanfic#felix month 2021#marinette x felix#rich!marinette#felix redemption#bamf marinette#Hexxe: Making Amends
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Nona the Ninth, John 8:1(1)
(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one!)
(No icon) In which we learn why the fandom keeps making reference to cows.
The ash sometimes makes them black out together.(2) He doesn't like losing control. He can't be coaxed to sleep unless she stands in the doorway to guard him. In the dream she doesn't fear sleep, but she doesn't know how to do it, she just collapses to sleep and then wake wherever he puts her.(3)
They make multiple trips down and back up the hill, on the side the waters aren't rising, to bring their things to a concrete building he found.
When they were settled he said: We got some attention up-front, ’cause people thought we were trying to get media jobs with some excellent deepfakes. They thought we were playing a game or giving people a puzzle, maybe doing some branding. Branding, then?(4) Talk about late-late-stage capitalism, right? How far can consumption as praxis go?(5) But I mean, fair enough. It didn’t look real.
As a result, very few people even took them seriously enough to come see them. Out of the few, only five could be convinced to come in and help with tests, on tape. After, two of them walked away, one said nothing, one said he'd call the cops, and only one accepts what he saw as truth.
He said, Then we took off. Thread after thread on message board after message board. People wanting proof. People asking what the fuck it meant. People talking about the LUCIFER telescope and saying we were aliens. People calling me the Antichrist, which was a trip. People writing up these long posts on how the trick was done, how I got the meat into the pie. Was I fake? Was I real? If I was real, what did it mean? Suddenly there were hundreds of people, all there at our front door. They came in caravans, they were sleeping in their cars or putting up tents. A hell of a lot of them had flown out internationally.
Some of those who showed up wanted to witness a miracle. They asked him for help, for faith healing. The odd thing is, he could do it.(6) He could do a whole lot, though not regrowing limbs.
But I spent hours and hours a day playing Jesus. That was nice, those were some of the nicest hours I got to spend.
Eventually, though, he had to start turning people away. M- brought in her nun friend, and John worried he'd get the Antichrist talk from her too, but she pointed him back at the Bible and said, Jesus not being able to say no was his whole problem. He never said no, he never asked anyone to pay, he got too much attention and brought the system down on everyone near him.
After that, John limited "Jesus stuff" to just one hour a day, but some of the damage was already done.
He added, We knew it was going to be a big problem. You’ve got this guy with an army of upward of forty walking corpses that he acquired legally but was meant to bury a while back, it’s time for some hard conversations. He’s curing cancer, that’s great, but he’s bookended by two zombies that they’ve dressed in outfits, that’s bad. You’ve got a wizard out in the wop-wops(7) who’s now got blanket bans from nearly every video upload site(8) and a whole bunch of people have entered the country because of his YouTube channel, the government isn’t all, Love that small-business entrepreneur spirit. The government says, This is a cult.
As the pilgrims and the tourists and the CIA started to close in, it's the nun who saved them. She applied to the Vatican, to petition for John's acts to be considered a miracle because he'd been baptised. He says he'd "only gone to Parachute(9) ’cause of the underage drinking" but the nun was a lifesaver. Then A- brought in his little brother, a hedge fund manager, who was useless but beloved by the group. John knew they were gathering their loved ones, feeling the final confrontation coming.
He said, At that point the government asked us to come in quietly, with our hands up.
His friends didn't want to go, but stopping the cops was all on John. The others weren't an army, not even P- with her sharpshooting. He had the corpses, and a lot of tissue samples, but nothing he could think to really do with them.
Eventually, P- betrayed the police, calling ahead to say the riot squad was on the way.(10) John knew he needed to wall the place off, so he made huge walls, three foot thick, of what the necromancers now call perpetual bone. The cops couldn't get through with any of their tools, and John caught that he hadn't put in air holes before anyone suffocated.
He fell quiet.
After a while she prompted, You made it from your bodies?
He said, Nah. I decided I didn’t want to touch any of the bodies, not only Titania and Ulysses. They’d all been through a lot.
It was at this point that he had the grace to look embarrassed.
He said, I’m not proud of this. But, well—like, we were on farmland. With farm animals. Big things with mass to spare. The field just over the road from us had over eighty head of cattle, field over that had a lot of sheep, and the bush was full of old bones. I had to—get creative. We had to lock C— in the kitchen when she found out so she could throw up in private for a while, and we wouldn’t let her look at it. Thankfully it was dark, so there wasn’t too much to look at.
You could even see it on satellite images on Google Earth, and he thought it was kind of pretty.
And then the government agreed to talk. The world took them seriously after the cow and sheep wall, though they also treated him like some kind of evil, or like he'd done some crime. Which he acknowledges he had in fact done, turning several hundred animals inside-out and not complying with the cops, but, he had extenuating circumstances.
He said, I didn’t care what they thought, I wanted the attention.(11) I wanted to break my NDAs. I wanted to let them know about the cryo plans and how we got shut down. I wanted to talk about you. About how we’d been going to save the world and then the cash dried up for no reason. And now we had a platform, so maybe the cash could come back, somehow. But we’d scared a lot of people. We also had more enemies than we’d ever had before.
He said, I guess you could say … we had beef.
When she did not laugh he said, “I can’t believe nobody’s ever going to laugh at my jokes again. I can’t believe it. It’s all gone, I’m the only one left.(12) It’s just me and you and no more jokes.”
She said, “I still love you.”
And he laughed and said, “That was a good one.” Then he wept again.
=====
(1) John 8:1 is "And Jesus went unto mount Olivet." Which doesn't say much itself, but its context is much greater: John 8:1 begins (or, well, continues, as it began in the previous chapter) the sequence with the infamous bit about "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her." (John 8:7) Mount Olivet, or the Mount of Olives, is where the Pharisees try to catch Jesus out in his faith, they test him with the adulterous woman, and he says, alright, she's done wrong, but whomst among us has not? Feels fairly relevant, for a chapter in which John is tempted to become Jesus, and is tempted to unleash wrath on his enemies, but instead he shows his power defensively. Not quite as biblical as responding in verse and parable but y'know, considering I think the point was the letter translation, it's not bad! In A1Z26, we have THETOWERHA. I got nothin' clever this time for that, we'll have to see where else it goes.
(2) Everything that happens to one, happens to the other, at the same time. Inextricably linked. So, if we think John's talking to who we think he's talking to (hint: not Harrow, but someone he's known for somewhat longer than ten thousand years) how does that line up with this sort of link? What sort of dream logic is that?
(3) John once admitted to Harrow that Alecto was never quite a normal human being. Mercy wasn't even convinced she'd ever had a genetic code to speak of. She and August referred to her in veiled and not-so-veiled terms as a monster, barely human in behaviour or composure. Like she didn't understand how to be a person. (Also, this paragraph includes the line "baby-soft skin hammocks" which is given a whole new dimension when you remember that his sign of office is a crown of baby finger bones. I'm not inserting it into the summary just to say this in a separate footnote, though, so it goes here.)
(4) Five years ago the whole internet revolved around establishing branding, now it's far less firm of a concept, as far as I can tell.
(5) References to some deep lefty beliefs held by John. How many people outside the leftmost quarter of the political compass call anything "praxis"? It's a very specific word to choose here, to say a lot about John. And, there's nothing inherently good about being a leftist, politically speaking. People have done immense harm in the name of communism and socialism. And Muir can invoke all this with a single word.
(6) The same healing we see necromancers doing with thalergy.
(7) NZ slang for the back-of-beyond, the more rural than rural spots.
(8) At best, what he's doing at this point can be termed defilement of a corpse by anyone who's not a true believer. It's not even an unfair interpretation of the truth.
(9) Parachute: A Christian music festival that ended in 2014.
(10) This is really important: Americans, and perhaps the rest of the non-NZ world, probably think of like, the big famous Christian cult raids when they read this, but my many thanks to the writer of this post who outlines that there's actually a really important context of colonial forces raiding Maori faith healers in NZ which is entirely different.
(11) Attention, social influence, an addictive sort of power in its own right. (Not all attention-seeking is toxic, but I feel it's fair to look at the man who made himself emperor and say yeah, he might be toxic. That is, in fact, one of his most compelling character traits.)
(12) He's the only one left... but what about her? Which is it? Of course, it's both. If this is Alecto, then she's no longer with him either, not really. All his friends have left him in one way or another. By his hand or their own or someone else's. He locked Alecto up, whoever and whatever she is or was or will be, in the Locked Tomb that gives the series its name, the tomb around which the whole trilogy quartet revolves. So of course, there's no one left, it's just him... and her, at the end of all things, because of their connection, whatever it means that he keeps calling her Harrow in these dreams of Nona's that she can't remember.
#the locked tomb#tlt#nona the ninth#ntn#nona the ninth spoilers#ntn spoilers#emperor john gaius#harrowhark nonagesimus
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I went to eras tour last night and I just wanted to give you a full and complete rundown of my experience beyond it completely changed my life and I will never be the same. So:
I honestly had the best experience with getting food - we went to subway and the whole experience only took about 5 minutes. We did eat early (around 4:15pm) though so that might be the key
Getting merch was also quite painless. I’m telling you don’t stand in the lines outside the stadium to get merch, everyone will have been doing the before the doors open. We went in around 5pm (half an hour after doors opened) and got straight in the merch line and we were only waiting for around 20-30mins
I am so sad that I didn’t get to see Sabrina perform her set (but we’ll get back to that later)
It was so funny when Travis came into the stadium cause everyone started screaming. And the video of them afterwards is so cute.
It almost didn’t feel real until I actually saw her (with the weather being the way it was I had real fears of it being cancelled)
‘It’s you and me, that’s my whole world’ - she really did something with that
The way all the bracelets lit up in a rainbow for you need to calm down made my heart soar
Fearless (the song) was absolutely something else and was one of my favourite moments of the night
Her playing the well known songs (love story, ybwm, 22, wanegbt, ikywt, and pretty much all of 1989) was absolutely phenomenal and I know red’s set has been quite contentious in particular but that era was honestly one of my favourites (everyone gets so into them and it’s such a communal experience that the evermore and folklore eras don’t have (and those are two of my favourite albums)
Talking of evermore, for some reason I feel like my knowledge of the set list failed me cause I did not realise that she opened with Tis the damn season (I didn’t really watch any livestreams before hand or the movie cause I wanted to experience it first hand first but I still knew what she sand and some semblance of the order she sang the songs in but for some reason that surprised - the best way possible)
Champagne problems and tolerate are still everything to me. I’m just sad cause I could see her playing champagne problem cause the piano was set up behind one of the light towers that was in my line of sight
I don’t have much to comment on for reputation but I loved it so much
She wore the blue dress for speak now era and I cannot even begin to explain how much that meant to me. Also singing long live with Taylor and a crowd of 86,000 is an experience I will never forget
Back to red era and a little more detail on why I adored it so much - 22 was literally the funnest song of the night (maybe only rivalled by shake it off) and when she gave the hat to the little girl, that I believe had cancer, I literally cried; but then wanegbt was playing and I was like I can’t cry during this; the ‘yeah nah’ in the bridge is iconic; ikywt popped off; and of course we have the woman the myth the moment, a10w and it was everything
I absolute loved folklore but I think by the time it came around people were exhausted. It was the era that a lot of people were sitting down (including me for the one and Betty because it was a lot). August was incredible and her playing the bridge of illicit affairs is everything to me
It was really quite genius of her to put 1988 at the end to pump people back up and I also felt as if it went really quickly cause everyone is anticipating the surprise songs
And now to talk about those surprise songs and the freaking announcement (which there were like no signs for mind you and I think I nearly had a heart attack). I was at this point in time trying to FaceTime my sister and mum so they could see the surprise songs and the connection was so shitty by the way. How you get the girl was chill - not really one of my favourite songs but anything taylor plays is incredible so I had fun. But anyway she moves on to the piano and she starts talking about ttpd which I was like okay, cool (I didn’t really think much of it even then until she started talking about what happens at the Paino - show and tell). And at first I was like surely she’s not going to announce something. And then I was like what if she plays a song from ttpd. These are the absolute manic thoughts running through my head. And then she announced it. And I’m sorry but ‘the albatross’. My mind immediately when to the poem the rime of the ancient mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge cause throughout high school in English I literally used the metaphor of the albatross around the neck in so many of my pieces of writing. Anyway so at this point I am currently dying and then she brings out Sabrina (which I kind of thought would happen since she didn’t get to perform and I was so so grateful for cause I love her dearly). And they talked about kangaroos which was hilarious (I guess they would be kinda weird to people who haven’t seen them before). Anyway so they sing white horse which incredible amazing duet that I will never forget and then THEN they sing the fucking bridge of Coney Island and I think I passed out. I’m like shouting to the friends that I went with that she’s playing Coney Island and I can see my mum and my sister on my phone absolutely laughing their heads off at my freak out. Honestly that was everything to me. I am so sorry to anyone who didn’t get to experience a Taylor swift mashup surprise song cause it is something else entirely.
I think I was honestly still in shock for all of the midnights set but honestly I was one of the greatest nights of my life.
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Daily Wrap Up September 21, 2022
Under the cut:
Russia has released some of the Ukrainian fighters it took prisoner after a protracted battle for the port city of Mariupol earlier this year, public broadcaster Suspline said on Wednesday. According to Andriy Yermak, the head of the President's Office, Ukraine returned 215 Ukrainian prisoners of war.
Russian President Vladimir Putin announced the immediate “partial mobilization” of Russian citizens on Wednesday, a move that threatens to escalate his faltering invasion of Ukraine following a string of defeats that caused recriminations in Moscow
Security forces detained more than 1,300 people in Russia on Wednesday at protests denouncing mobilisation, a rights group said, hours after President Vladimir Putin ordered Russia's first military draft since World War Two
Nearly all flights out of Russia were sold out just hours after Vladimir Putin declared a partial mobilisation of reservists
Finland said Wednesday it is working on a federal strategy to “limit or completely prevent” tourism from Russia following the invasion of Ukraine
Russia fired a series of long-range missiles at Ukraine’s second city Kharkiv early on Wednesday, hours after the Kremlin announced plans to annex Ukrainian territory and to carry out a partial mobilisation. Deputy Head of the President’s Office Kyrylo Tymoshenko reported on Sept. 21 that Russian forces launched two missile strikes on the Chuhuiv district of Kharkiv Oblast, damaging the Pechenizka dam.
In a wide-ranging and impassioned televised speech at the UN on Wednesday, Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskiy called on the international community to adopt a 5-point formula to achieve peace and security.
“Russia has released some of the Ukrainian fighters it took prisoner after a protracted battle for the port city of Mariupol earlier this year, public broadcaster Suspline said on Wednesday.
Suspline, citing the Azov battalion unit that did much of the fighting, said an exchange had happened near the northern Ukrainian city of Chernihiv. It gave no details.
The Telegram account of Andriy Biletsky, original founder of the Azov battalion, showed him giving a victory sign with the caption "In service" as he held one of the captives. Reuters was not immediately able to verify when the photo had been taken.
Earlier in the day, Saudi Arabia said Russia had released 10 foreign prisoners of war captured in Ukraine following mediation by Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman.
Last month, the head of the Russian-backed separatist administration in the eastern Ukrainian region of Donetsk said a trial of captured Azov personnel would take place by the end of the summer.
After fighting for weeks from the bunkers and tunnels below Mariupol's giant the steel works, hundreds of Azov fighters surrendered in May to Russian-backed forces.”
-via Reuters
According to Andriy Yermak, the head of the President's Office, Ukraine returned 215 Ukrainian prisoners of war on Sept. 21.
They include defenders of Azovstal, a steel plant that was the Ukrainian military's last stronghold in the city of Mariupol, Donetsk Oblast, before the city became entirely occupied by Russia.
Among the released Ukrainians are top commanders including lieutenant colonel of the National Guard of Ukraine Denys Prokopenko, Azov deputy commander Sviatoslav Palamar, and the commender of the 36th brigade Serhii Volynskyi.
Senior sergeant of the 36th brigade Mykhailo Dianov, and paramedic Kateryna Polishchuk, also known as Ptashka (Bird), were also released. Photos of each of them have been shared on social media upon exchange.
-via Kyiv Independent
~
“Russian President Vladimir Putin announced the immediate “partial mobilization” of Russian citizens on Wednesday, a move that threatens to escalate his faltering invasion of Ukraine following a string of defeats that caused recriminations in Moscow.
Putin said in a speech that he would use “all the means at our disposal,” and even raised the specter of nuclear weapons, if he deemed the “territorial integrity” of Russia to be jeopardized.
The mobilization means citizens who are in the reserve could be called up, and those with military experience would be subject to conscription, Putin said, adding that the necessary decree had already been signed and took effect on Wednesday.
Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu said on Russian television Wednesday morning that the country will call up 300,000 reservists. “These are not some people who have never heard of the army,” Shoigu said. “These are those who have served, have a military registration specialty, have had military experience.”
It comes after a sudden and successful Ukrainian offensive through most of occupied Kharkiv swung momentum in the conflict back towards Kyiv this month. The counter-attacks galvanized Ukraine’s Western backers and caused anger in Russia, which has time and again been stymied in its full-scale assault of its neighboring state that it launched seven months ago.
“Our country also has various means of destruction and in some components more modern than those of the NATO countries, and if the territorial integrity of our country is threatened, we will certainly use all the means at our disposal to protect Russia and our people,” Putin said in his speech Wednesday indicating a possible new chapter in the months-long conflict.
Addressing the potential for escalation and use of nuclear weapons, Putin said: “Those who try to blackmail us with nuclear weapons should know that the prevailing winds can turn in their direction.”
The announcement comes as Russia is believed to face shortages of manpower and follows amendments to Russia’s law on military service made Tuesday, which raise the penalties for resistance related to military service or coercion to violate an official military order during a period of mobilization or martial law.
Putin framed the ongoing fighting as part of a larger struggle for Russian survival against a West whose goal is it is to “weaken, divide and ultimately destroy our country.” Several Russian-occupied regions of Ukraine announced that they will hold referendums on formally joining Russia this week, votes that have widely been dismissed as shams intended to boost Putin’s justifications for further attacks on Ukrainian territory.
“They are already saying directly that they were able to split the Soviet Union in 1991 and now the time has come for Russia to break up into a multitude of regions and areas which are fatally hostile to each other,” Putin said.
But NATO leaders dismissed the announcement as a sign of panic in the Kremlin, and reaffirmed their commitment to supporting Ukraine’s military.“-via CNN
~
“Security forces detained more than 1,300 people in Russia on Wednesday at protests denouncing mobilisation, a rights group said, hours after President Vladimir Putin ordered Russia's first military draft since World War Two.
The independent OVD-Info protest monitoring group said that according to information it had collated from 38 Russian cities, more than 1,311 people had been held by late evening.
It said those figures included at least 502 in Moscow and 524 in St Petersburg, Russia's second most populous city.
Unsanctioned rallies are illegal under Russia's anti-protest laws.
Russian Interior Ministry official Irina Volk, in a statement quoted by Russian news agencies, said officers had cut short attempts to stage what it called small protests.
"In a number of regions, there were attempts to stage unauthorised actions which brought together an extremely small number of participants," Volk was quoted as saying.
"These were all stopped. And those persons who violated laws were detained and taken to police stations for investigation and establish their responsibility."
One-way flights out of Russia were rocketing in price and selling out fast on Wednesday after Putin ordered the immediate call-up of 300,000 reservists.”-via Reuters
~
“Nearly all flights out of Russia were sold out just hours after Vladimir Putin declared a partial mobilisation of reservists.
Google Trends data showed a spike in searches for Aviasales, Russia’s most popular website for buying flights, after Putin’s announcement sparked fears that some men of fighting age would not be allowed to leave the country.
Flights from Moscow to the capitals of Georgia, Turkey and Armenia, all destinations that allow Russians to enter without a visa, were sold out within minutes of Putin’s announcement, according to Aviasales data.
Within hours, direct flights from Moscow to Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan had also stopped showing up on the website. Some routes with stopovers, including from Moscow to Tbilisi, were also unavailable.
The cheapest flights from Moscow to Dubai were costing more than 300,000 roubles (£4,320) – about five times the average monthly wage.”-via The Guardian
~
“Finland said Wednesday it is working on a federal strategy to “limit or completely prevent” tourism from Russia following the invasion of Ukraine.
“This national solution may include new legislation, which would be adopted very quickly,” foreign minister Pekka Haavisto told a press conference, Agence France-Presse reports.
Since Russia’s Covid-19 restrictions expired in July, there has been a boom in Russian travellers and a rising backlash in Europe against allowing in Russian tourists while the war continues.
Finland has significantly reduced tourist visas for Russians in September but tourists continue to enter the country via visas issued by other EU countries in the Schengen borderless travel area.
“Finland does not want to be a country that is a transit country for Schengen visas issued by other countries either,” Haavisto said.
According to a poll published by Finnish daily Ilta-Sanomat on Wednesday, around 70 percent of Finns want their country to stop issuing tourist visas to Russians.
Finland has been calling for an EU decision to limit visas for Russians, but Haavisto noted, “It cannot be guaranteened [sic] that this move would happen very quickly.””-via The Guardian
~
“Russia fired a series of long-range missiles at Ukraine’s second city Kharkiv early on Wednesday, hours after the Kremlin announced plans to annex Ukrainian territory and to carry out a partial mobilisation.
Explosions were heard across Kharkiv at around 2am. At least one missile struck a high-rise apartment in the western Zalutino district. It gouged a hole out of the top of the building and blew out windows in apartments facing onto a grassy square.
Ten residents were injured. It was unclear what Russia was trying to hit. An electricity sub-station targeted last week was several kilometres away. “There was a loud explosion. It was like a firework. I was in shock. I haven’t really come to my senses,” Raisa Nikolaivena, a 61-year-old pensioner said.
She added:
We are peaceful people, small people. It was quiet here up until this moment. Obviously this is Putin’s fault. He’s a terrorist and a criminal.
The emergency services sealed off the area. Municipal workers swept away debris and chopped down trees damaged in the blast. There was a sound of sawing as carpenters cut rectangles of plywood to be used to replace broken glass.”
-via The Guardian
“Deputy Head of the President’s Office Kyrylo Tymoshenko reported on Sept. 21 that Russian forces launched two missile strikes on the Chuhuiv district of Kharkiv Oblast, damaging the Pechenizka dam. Tymoshenko said that the damage will be eliminated shortly.
There were no casualties as a result of the attack, according to the official.
Russia has recently increased the number of attacks on critical infrastructure across Ukraine. An earlier attack on a dam in Kryvyi Rih, Dnipropetrovsk Oblast, on Sept. 14 caused the flooding of over 100 homes.”
-via Kyiv Independent
~
“In a wide-ranging and impassioned televised speech at the UN on Wednesday, Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskiy called on the international community to adopt a 5-point formula to achieve peace and security.
Zelenskiy, who addressed the General Assembly in a pre-recorded video, laid out a “formula for peace” that includes the following measures:
1) Punishment for crimes of aggression including sanctions and the stripping away of veto rights
2) Protection of life as he cited the mass graves of tortured bodies found in Bucha and Izium
3) Restoration of security and territorial integrity, noting that Russia’s attempts at targeting nuclear facilities in Ukraine is going to impact “all of you…because none of you will find a vaccine against radiation sickness”
4) Security and safety guarantees
5) Determination for Ukraine to continue defending itself against Russian aggression
Zelenskiy concluded his speech by calling out the the countries that voted alongside Russia to oppose Ukraine’s request to deliver a remote address as traditional UN procedures only allow in-person participants to deliver addresses.
101 countries voted in favor of the televised address while 19 abstained.
Referring to the possibility of peace talks between Ukraine and Russia, Zelenskiy said, “As for the talks between Ukraine and Russia, probably you have heard different words from Russia about the talks, as if they were ready for them… They talk about the talks but announce military mobilization. They talk about the talks but announce psuedo-referendums.”
In contrast, Zelenskiy reaffirmed that Ukraine is prepared for peace talks but only for “true, honest, fair peace.”
His speech was met with a standing ovation.”-via The Guardian
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Slam! The door closed with a crash, a frantic, frustrated woman being the culprit. With a sigh, the blonde turned hastily toward her desk. Her normally tidy hair stuck out in all directions, her polished pink bangs singed black at their ends, while frustration and anger replaced her typical, calm exterior. Paperwork and files were scattered randomly across the mahogany surface until one could see its polished veneer no more. She slid into her chair and tiredly removed her mask. Groaning exasperatedly, she began sorting through the piles of papers.
Good Lord, she would never be paid enough to deal with this. The emotional toll it took on Arianna was simply too high. When she worked in customer service, at least she could vent to her coworkers when shit inevitably went south. However now Ariana was left constantly trying to please millions, each of her actions as Puppeteer ruthlessly scrutinized by the public, so her mouth had better stay shut. It has always been an impossible task to please everyone. Ariana, like so many before her, was doomed to fail. But alas, here she was, in an attempt to keep up her perfect appearance, two NDAs deep and preparing for a nightmarish week- no, a fortnight of paperwork and little sleep.
A new villain had appeared just a few hours ago, which was not an uncommon occurrence per se and would normally be only a minor inconvenience for Arianna. This time was different, however, for this bastard made their entrance with nothing short of a bang. Literally. Nearly an entire block was leveled to the ground, and though the area was in a shopping district, and evacuated quickly and efficiently, almost a hundred innocent lives were lost. The area was destroyed, unlivable, and ruined, the scent of gunpowder wafting through the air, the ground below scorched from the electric flames.
Seeing the villain standing there, amongst the flames, a wicked grin plastered upon their masked face was something she would never be able to forget, no matter how hard she tried. Those electric attacks, the screams as the buildings began to crumble, would be burned into her vision, into her nightmares for eternity. It felt as though she were back on her first patrol, nothing more than the latest recruit helplessly following her mentor into one deadly situation after another.
Arianna’s hand flew up to her shoulder, aching at the memory of the blast of electric energy the villain had aimed at her. Groaning in pain, she pulled up the new villain's file, #1572b. Being the hero who fought them, it was her job to recount the fight in as much detail as physically possible, for the Hero Corps reference. Every potential weakness and power limitation she perceived was invaluable in future fights. It wasn’t like Arianna could add much to the file currently though since she had been a bit distracted trying not to be shocked to death when fighting the villain.
They had underestimated their new opponent, for the Hero Corps only dispatched her, assuming she would be able to deal with this fresh threat quickly. Ariana wished she could say that she had. But staring down at the reports in front of her, the failure struck Arianna’s heart like an echoing pendulum of agony. News reports and interviews littered her desk, a constant reminder of who and what had been lost. Families left broken, never to be repaired, words forever left unsaid, a bright life snuffed out before it could truly burn.
“The Latest Heroic Failure”
“72 Dead, 16 Injured in Latest Villain Attack”
“Hiding The Stars; Why Weren’t The Top Heroes Dispatched”
“Puppeteer Proves Once More She Isn’t Top 5 Quality”
“Number 4 No More: Hero Fails to Stop Terrorist”
Each article painfully struck her soul. Declarations of her failure to protect the most vulnerable, caused her gut to swim with overwhelming guilt. Deep down, Ariana felt it was unfair for her to take all the blame, one person could only be expected to do so much right? How was she supposed to fight against a threat she knew nothing of, all on her own, with no reinforcement in sight?? And yet none of that truly mattered, not to the public, not to her, the blood was on Ariana’s hands, as much as it was on the criminals, she would fix this, no matter the cost. She had seen much loss in her few years in the Corps, it was never easy, never simple, but she had no choice but to push forward.
The threat needed a name, a title to place beside one who could cause such brutal destruction. Like a raging storm, they swept through, leaving nothing but rubble in their wake. A tempest of self-righteous fury. She stared at the glowing computer screen in front of her, before reaching for the mouse. Opening up the file, Arianna began to type.
Villain File #1572: Tempest
Threat Level: 8
Power: Electrical Manipulation
Type: A1
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Have what I think would be considered a prologue???? To a thing I am trying to write. Constructive criticism is welcome but be gentle cause I haven't done any creative writing in like two years lol
#hero x villain#writing#my wrtitng#what have i done#hero and villian#how the hell do i tag#snippet#????#i think#just realized#i forgot tws#tw death#tw destruction#tw explosion#hope thats right
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tagged by @graveyardrabbit 👍!
last song: mama by mcr <3
currently watching: nothing 😔✊idk its hard to get me to watch tv shows. oh i did jst remember like 2 years ago or sth i started watching Every X-Files Ever with a big excel sheet of all my opinions and shit. but its been hard to get thru bc the later seasons have not been very enjoyable and also ive been Busy with work n putting out consistent art n shit that its hard to justify sitting down and not doing anything for that long ig. ive also slowly been getting thru various slasher franchises&watching iconic horror movies since i love horror but havent watched a lot of the movies, &its easier for me to get thru an hour and a half of sth Complete than 45 mins of a Part of a larger story. the original scream is def the cream of the crop of what ive seen so far, meanwhile i watched the first saw last night and it was incredibly stupid and frustrating to watch. 9/11 rly took its toll on media
currently reading: 😶 even harder than videos bc i absolutely cannot multitask while reading. recently finished frankenstein (which i started literally almost 3 years prior (its not that long or difficult i jst struggle to justify spending time on things that i dont consider “work” in my brain) (also it was p good but you could literally cut out the second part and the story would benefit imo it jst rly slogs down the pace and axes any tension for a lot of details that could be conveyed much quicker if they were explained in less detail)) and the communist manifesto (didnt take nearly as long bc its like pamphlet length gbdkjd) edit everyone go read izroulia actually a new series came out today&i haven't been able to read it yet but its been keeping me going fr i love how earnest it is in being itself its such a good piece of safe media for me if that makes sense
current obsession: ughhhhhhhhh ive been in between obsessions for a lil bit i feel like. idk this is sth i struggle w/ bc the last thing i felt fully like Enveloped in was the adventure zone (orig. arc) which ended. 5 years ago. lemon demon&lemonville came shortly after but it was hard to feel it was on the same scale bc it was actively in creation as i was there and associated #Drama also lessened its grip faster than it would’ve had it been like an existing show or sth. plus theres less ppl obvs. had a brief good omens phase but it burned out pretty quick bc i had so thoroughly dissected it very quickly. &since then ive kind of jst been cycling between existing interests (monster high/fashion dolls in general, mercreatures, creepypasta/slenderman/horror in general) plus the occasional mcr blast but it doesnt quite Grip the same bc there arent like Characters i can rotate. the best ive gotten is obsessing over my own ocverses but its not the same.... idk i rly rly Want to feel the Passion that fandom brings but none of the media thats blown up interests me enough to consider consuming the media or i take a peak&dont like it cause im picky...idk my fundamental problem is that im picky and hard to please bc i can deconstruct things so easily to see its Bones and if a story is more surface level and straightforward and easy to understand its hard for me to keep my attention on it at the stage of my life im in. that being said aquamarine is my fave movie tho so. but then again i think ppl jst write it off cause its a chick flick. idk recommend me things but dont be surprised if its not my vibe ig
ummmmmmmmmmm idk who to tag u can do this if u want to&say i tagged u but i think i was kinda a bummer w/ these answers so 😔✊
#my posts#ty for the tag!#im kinda jst going thru it very very hard atm due to irl stuff.....#theres been 3 deaths in the family in the past year and its looking like a 4th is coming soon&i jst got told yesterday...........plus im al#ays stressed by work [which hopefully will decrease soon since jakes off work for the summer so he can pick me up#instead of taking the bus bc it turns a 10 minute drive into an hour long commute]#ive also been stressed cause this year im focusing on finishing Big Projects but its kind of overwhelming lmao. idk.....&im too stubborn to#take any of it off my pl8 either 😔but i think im jst overwhelmed bc of said irl stuff atm. idk sorry for the sad blast on main ig i jst wan#ted 2 vent bc its hard for me to say it out loud....
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IT'S DONE
THE DUCKS
Critique is tomorrow but I got this thing done at like, 3AM today and everything's all dry now and I'm so happy to finally be making this post so I'm putting it up earlier than I normally do 😭😭
Assignment details below but warning, it's like an adventure log cause holy crap I have so much to say about this
The assignment was to make a structure that:
Had a mechanical function (minimum two)
Included at least one found object (i.e., something that was not provided by the instructor)
Included at least one carved element
...so there was a lot going on for this. I've never carved before, hence why I panick made those ducks a few weeks ago. They were a failsafe, juuuust in case I couldn't figure out the whole "carve a bird" thing in time. Luckily they weren't needed, though if I wasn't in such a hurry I might not have gotten this weird looking cut on my finger that likely won't fully heal :') (battle scars, so it's okay)
They really did take a long time to carve though. For frame of reference, it took about:
~6 hours of listening to people play Phasmophobia for ducky #1
Another 5-6 of listening to Majora's Mask gameplay for ducky #2
About 3-4 hours of various My House videos for the smallest ducky #3 (thanks again for the recommendation 🙏 I was running out of things to fill the silence to)
I'm glad I started them as early as I could, especially with the breaks needed to let my fingers heal because I'm bad w/ knives.
I speed learned how use a sewing machine (thanks mom for letting me borrow it); I didn't have to make the outfits but they're cute so I don't regret it lol. I put elastic or snaps on all of them so they're all removable... maybe I'll make more outfits for them in the future?
I counted my found object as some plexiglass I picked up somewhere, and it turns out, it's not really hard to cut it. Apparently it's not hard to cut real glass either but I wasn't allowed to use it 'cause it's easier to break. I kinda like the window, I wasn't sure about how it'd look at first but I really think it makes it look more polished :D
The red handle was a last minute addition. I quite literally used a spare piece of wood at 1AM this morning and speed carved+painted it. Since it didn't have any major grooves like the ducks, I could saw it down close to the size it needed to be and then carve/sand off the edges to round it off, so I got it done in about an hour and a half. I'm glad I did because I accidently painted the frame a little took dark and needed something to help tie it in a little better. It's still dark, but it sticks out slightly less now??? I hope haha.
I had a lot less trouble using the power tools on campus this time around. That's not saying much because I never really had much trouble in the first place but still, they're nowhere nearly as intimidating as they look.
All in all it was a lot of fun, and I can't wait 'til it's graded cause I'm really excited to bring it home for good :D
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Doctor Who - The Power of the Doctor: so that happened! Initial reaction post, and will be diving into the tags in a little bit, so, uh, blacklist as necessary. Will be using ‘dw spoilers’.
Storywise, very busy, definitely needed the full hour and a half because just an hour would have made it a rushed mess, would probably put it at a 4/5. Continuity-wise, holy shit 5/5. I goddamn adore Tegan and Ace I goddamn loved seeing them together I goddamn loved their reaction to the Doctor being a combination of *awkward staring* and *awkward staring because wtf the Doctor got hot*.
The older Doctors at the edge - goddamn perfect. Eight being a rebel and not wearing a robe you do you bby. And the holograms!! I 100% cried at the Tegan-Five and Ace-Seven conversations and I bet the actors were feeling some kinda way too. Goddamn. The mention of Adric, the "Brave heart!", the Nitro-9 conversation, "We're more than good. We're Ace!". Also the banter between the Master and the companions - Aunt Vanessa, the half-cat thing, the Brigadier and his family are still causing problems and He Took That Personally... good times.
Other comments, more or less in chronological order, reading the Guardian recap mostly:
Regenerating Cybermen still remain one of the freakiest things I've ever seen. It's just so wrong.
Picked that Dan was going to leave as soon as I saw the hole in his helmet :( It reminds me of that MASH episode where Charles is nearly shot and is just staring at the hole in his hat, actually. Different response, but still very much this immediate change in priorities.
Both Tegan and Ace have definitely shared horror stories about Cybermen. Still, Silver Nemesis was still less traumatic than Earthshock, probably. Poor Tegan.
UNIT is not going anywhere! Take that, Brexit.
"How did you even escape from Gallifrey?" "Magnificent attention to detail!" Really, Doctor, he's the Eternal Cockroach (affectionate), you know this.
scuse me where is the Master's room service. Rood.
Ashad continues to be scary as fuck. Sad he presumably got blown up because a partial Cyberman who is actively sadistic is a hell of an opponent.
Dressing for the occasion... *HEAVY SIGH*
Got Boney M's Rasputin stuck in my head as soon as I saw the guy. Lost my shit when they actually played it. Goddamn perfect. I love that chaotic little shit.
Holy shit apparently that's not just a replica, that is the actual 1989 costume jacket and Sophie Aldred has kept it all this time! Like I loved how she still had some music pins even on her fancy suit jacket, but this was the Jacket!!
That is the most hilariously gremlin outfit I've ever seen. Let's see: Thirteen's coat, Ten's tie, Seven's vest, Five's celery, Four's scarf, and Two's recorder.
Seven and Eight bickering over the outfits <3
Hmm, some continuity with Tegan's past - no mention of Nyssa? Maybe she didn't know if Kate would be cool with that. On the other hand, the air hostess in the early 80s bit <3
"You... sort of look like you, but not quite." "I could say the same to you!"
Graham hi Graham!! "Friend of the Doctor. Former bus driver. Worried about the amount of Daleks in here." Oh same.
Ruth!Doctor! Man everyone showing up today!
Stewarts just don't get TARDISes. Just a step too far!
Thirteen in her clever goggles ilu.
Hey uh is there going to be like. Some kind of ramification, geologically, for turning magma into steel? Because I feel that may not be healthy. I'm gonna? Hope that the conversion thing just made the actual lava into steel and maybe just told the magma to take a break, otherwise there may be Issues there lmao.
Everything goes 'splodey, Doctor included D: I'm gonna assume the Master will be fine, although he'll probably have regenerated next time we see him.
Yaz carrying the Doctor ;_; Definitely got flashbacks to Logopolis with her lying on the floor surrounded by her loved ones, and I'm assuming Tegan was thinking exactly the same thing. "Extended fam..."
Everyone dropped off at Croydon. Hopefully actual Croydon, and not Aberdeen...
"A wise person once said to me 'goodbyes only hurt because what came before was so special'. And it’s been so special. You, and Graham, and Ryan and Dan. Nobody else got to be us. Nobody else got to live our days. Nobody. And my hearts are so full of love of all of you. I have loved being with you, Yaz. And I have loved being me." ;_;
Ice cream and not saying goodbye :( I know a lot of people will Have Thoughts about how there wasn't even a kiss or anything, but honestly? I'm not sure the Doctor would have actually wanted to do that to Yaz. She knows she's dying. She knows that whatever they had, it's over, and they'll never see each other as they are again. Maybe her next incarnation will, but it won't be her. And kissing Yaz would have been almost... feeling like a pity kiss? "Well, I didn't want things to end, so I'll give you this one indulgence and then off you trot to do your mourning thing."
The support group ;_; Ian! (William Russell is ninety-seven now! He just broke a world record for the longest time between TV appearances with the same character, fifty-seven years!) Jo! Mel! And Kate's an official companion now too, looks like! God I love Tegan and Ace just flanking Yaz, like. "Yeah, this girl is heartbroken. We're going to look after her."
"The blossomiest blossom. That's the only sad thing. I want to know what happens next. Right then, Doctor Whoever-I-am-about-to-be. Tag. You're it." ;_;
AND THEN, OF COURSE. THAT HAPPENED. What? What?? What?!
Concluding remarks from RTD:
"If you thought the appearance of David Tennant was a shock, we've got plenty more surprises on the way! The path to Ncuti's Fifteenth Doctor is laden with mystery, horror, robots, puppets, danger and fun! And how is it connected to the return of the wonderful Donna Noble? How, what, why? We're giving you a year to speculate, and then all hell lets loose!"
Fifteenth Doctor! Fifteenth Doctor! And three November specials! Official word from the BBC:
"As Jodie Whittaker’s Thirteenth Doctor regenerated on Sunday 23rd October, it was none other than David Tennant who appeared as the Fourteenth Doctor. But what has led to the return of a much loved face?
With David Tennant and Catherine Tate reprising their roles for the 60th anniversary, it has been confirmed that they will appear in three special episodes, set to air in November 2023. The next Doctor, played by Ncuti Gatwa, will then take control of the TARDIS, with his first episode airing over the festive period in 2023."
So... I'm guessing the 60th specials, plural, will all be in the last week of November (ooh, I might get one on my birthday! ...oh dear god I'll be 37), or it'll be three episodes that conclude on the 23rd for the anniversary, the last of the three will feature the regeneration, then the first with Gatwa will be a Christmas or New Year special?
Trailer thoughts: "I don't know who I am any more." Yeah I bet. And given that the shot of Gatwa has him looking visibly confused and also wearing the same tie Tennant is wearing in the promo, he might be appearing here and there all through the three, like a... I guess a vision of the future? Or that preview was for all three? Man, I don't know!
Parting thoughts: storywise, a bit busy, and I feel Dan and Vinder were super underused. But I goddamn loved all the continuity fanservice, and the scenes of the past companions and their Doctors emotionally destroyed me. Whittaker was fantastic in an episode that could have threatened to overshadow her with so much going on (although I feel the post-regeneration reveal did overshadow her), genuinely cried through the regeneration, and goddamn is it next year yet because that was an ending and a half!
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Day 2: Solitary Confinement
Read it on AO3!
William has an insanity attack and nearly kills an inmate. Whump Rating: 2/5
@febuwhump
==================February 2nd, 1984=================
The guard stopped at William’s cell. “So how did they manage to actually get a conviction on you? I mean, we all know you’re a murderer, but you’re in a low security area, so that’s clearly not what they managed to get you on.”
William glared at the guard before answering. “Tax fraud, of all things. It wasn’t even an intentional screw up; I really did just mess up on filing my taxes.” This got the guard to laugh, and William gritted his teeth.
Another guard came in bringing William’s cellmate back. William went to the bed and attempted to sleep.
====Four Hours Later====
When William next woke up, he found himself in solitary confinement, and feeling far more relaxed than he should have been for such a short nap. It took him a few seconds to piece together what happened, but he paled when he figured it out.
“Ah, William, you’re awake.” A guard and what William guessed was a scientist had entered the room. “I assume by your complexion you know roughly what you did, even if you have no memory of the details. Do not worry, your cellmate is alive and doing better than he was three hours ago.” William relaxed a little at that, though he was now on edge for a different reason. A scientist was not a good sign.
“Glad to know, but why are you here?”
“I simply wish to know the triggers for your, ah, turning purple. I have no intentions of trying to get you turned into a weapon for the government; the ethics board would flay me alive. Figuratively, of course, but still.”
William relaxed significantly more at this. “Well, a code purple, which is what I and my family call it when I have an episode, is caused by extremely high levels of stress. Turning purple is something that just happens to occur during it, due to my... heritage, given that it’s practically a straight line up until me. I actually have control of the ability to turn purple, I just don’t tend to do it, as that is all it is.”
“Interesting. Now, you seemed noticeably stronger during this ‘code purple.’ Is there anything to it?”
“Adrenaline, probably.” The scientist took a second to stare before muttering something that sounded like ‘obviously.’
“Now, unfortunately, for the safety of the prison complex, you’ll likely have to stay in solitary confinement for the remainder of your sentence. It was not my decision, and based on what you said I will make an attempt to get the decision reversed, but I cannot make any guarantees.”
William winced at this. He knew for a fact he would likely go code purple much more often in solitary confinement, but he did normally know when an episode was at risk of occurring, at which point they could loose him on the death row inmates if he couldn’t defuse. He explained as much to the scientist, who said he would pass it along to the warden.
Unfortunately, the warden deemed it safer to keep William in solitary confinement. This was about to be a long year.
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