#file under: muses: stan

[knotfodder]

name: Stanley Pines nicknames: Stan dob. age: June 15 (25-45) gender: Male pronouns: (he/him/his) secondary gender: Omega occupation: entrepreneur species: human (unless..?) younger fc: Tyler Hoechlin older fc: Jeffrey Dean Morgan

+resourceful, clever, street smart+ -greedy, self-serving, impulsive-

[diabolica45]

Chapter 13: Always, Forever

Homelander and Reader go to therapy - it goes exactly how you'd expect. Stan assures Rangel things are going according to plan.

Notes:

"Couple's Therapy": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulj5UJ5GHvE

Homelander and the woman sat across from Dr. Rangel on her leather sofa, both hiding faint grimaces. This was nothing like their couch, which enveloped every fiber of their beings, pulling them softly into its cushiony depths. This couch was unyielding, and firm - harsh, even. The woman grimaced, and Homelander patted her hand. He understood, she thought, leaning into him.

Dr. Rangel sat at her desk, reading their files, before looking up at them, her face smooth. Neither of them moved to open the conversation; Therese knew that Homelander thrived on attention, on making others bend to his will, and initiating this conversation would be a hard concession to make - one she wasn't sure the session could come back from. So she waited, hands steepled under her chin, her soft exhale wafting through the space. Homelander shifted slightly, the woman turning to face Rangel as well, their faces stony. The woman drew absentminded, lazy circles on Homelander's thigh with her finger, the circling motion taunting in its softness.

Homelander glanced at the woman, something warm tugging at his heart as she pretended to fish a speck of dirt from under her nail. She saw it, he knew - Rangel's game - and she wasn't just going to play. She was going to win. They were going to win.

The woman pressed a kiss to Homelander's shoulder, feeling the warmth of him under his suit and sighing. He was hers, finally hers - and this session was just further proof. When Stan had called the two of them into his office, after they'd watched Vought clean up the massacre then gone home, (her apartment, her heart trilled), she'd looked up at Homelander in fear. This was it, she knew. Stan would tell them that they'd gone too far - that they were taking him away, sending her back to the asylum for another two years... her heart had seized, burning with fury. You idiot, she'd thought balefully. Hadn't he just learned how that would end? They were happy. They were in love - no, they were complete now. But if that wasn't reason enough to leave them alone, she mused, thoughts darkening, then maybe the Voughtland Massacre hadn't been enough. The death toll had been merciful, she thought furiously. She'd squeezed Homelander's hand, eyes promising violence, and he'd looked back into her, his own gaze a red-hot reflection, as he squeezed back.

But when he'd welcomed her into the Vought Family with open arms, offering her residence in the Tower, full amenities, comprehensive healthcare, and a weekly stipend... she couldn't help but drop er jaw in shock. Was this a trap? A trick? A million potential plots raced through her head; human testing, disappearing her from existence, holding her captive... But Homelander had rubbed her hand he held in his with his thumb, and she'd melted. Waking up next to him, day after day... being closer than ever, the Tower at their command. So she'd nodded her acceptance, signing her signature in bold, dark font.

Homelander smirked, sensing Rangel's mounting frustration at their silence; he opened his mouth dramatically, as though to speak - only to close it, sharing a quiet laugh with the woman. Dr Rangel held her pen still in her hand, eyebrow raised. Above them on the wall, the clock ticked on. Thirty five more minutes, the woman thought, satisfied, as she settled in.

Finally, with a terse little sigh, Dr. Rangel spoke, her voice polite as always, if a bit tight. "Alright, you win," she said playfully; the woman gave a pleased murmur, nodding to Homelander. "I'd like to thank you, firstly, for your time today, and say that, no matter what you may think, I do believe that the relationship you've formed has been beneficial to you." The couple looked on, unconvinced. Dr. Rangel raised her hand in their direction.

"Homelander - you've been seen offering signed photographs to small business owners, gifting merchandise to fans... and you," she said, gesturing to the woman, "you've been making marked improvements as well. A raise at your job, finally opening up to someone new? Despite the adverse effects... I think it's a fair assessment to say that this relationship does serve to ground the two of you in some way." The woman looked Rangel straight on, eyes blackening. 

"You've been watching us." she said flatly. Dr. Rangel nodded. "Of course. It's not every day Vought's most powerful asset takes to someone the way Homelander has with you - that's a role we take very seriously. To that end, you'll have Vought's full support - but with the caveat that you will be under the company's eye. It's just the nature of the beast, I'm afraid."

Homelander's jaw twitched, and the woman leaned in, disgust burning her face hot. "It's like... you can't even see what a violation that is. What a violation this company is.  'Vought's full support' - the housing, the stipend... " she scowled, eyeing Rangel hatefully. "I'm not your fucking pet - and neither is he."

The woman set back into the chair, nearly scooting into Homelander's lap. Dr. Rangel raised a brow, writing in her notepad for a while, then looked to the woman again, her expression inquisitive.

"I hear your anger - this sense of righteous indignation on you and Homelander's behalf. And while I understand - after all, nobody wants to hear that they're being surveilled... I can't help but think, and wonder: your relationship, while, as I said can be beneficial in some ways, is fairly young - perhaps a month old?"

The woman narrowed her eyes distrustfully, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Homelander squared his jaw, teeth gritted hard. He locked his eyes onto Rangel, daring her to finish her thought. Rangel pressed on, her tone easy.

"What are you insinuating..." Homelander growled, his voice dark. Dr. Rangel ignored him, keeping her gaze on the woman.

"I suppose what I'm asking is this: what is the basis of your belief... of Homelander's suffering at Vought's hands? Has he ever told you this, at all?"

Homelander shot up at once, lunging forward to stare daggers into Rangel, eyes burning red. "Watch it," he warned testily, the heat of his gaze bringing an ominous drone with it. The woman matched his fury, her face set into a terrible glower. Rangel raised her hands.

"Okay," she said calmly, shaking her head and striking out one of her notes. "It isn't my place to speculate on the nature of your relationship, or whatever understandings you have of each other; for that I apologize." Homelander curled his lip, fingers twitching, before he slowly leaned back into his seat. "Damn right it's not," he grumbled, pulling the woman closer.

"However..." Dr. Rangel started again, "I believe, as a citizen of this city, it is my place to question the consequences of this relationship - particularly in regards to the violence it begets." Homelander rolled his eyes, scoffing.

"The Massacre. I'd like to talk about the Massacre." Homelander shrugged; beside him, the woman had now a look of detached boredom to her face, a half-lidded dismissal in her eyes.

"What's there to talk about?" Homelander asked petulantly, raising his brows. "They were in my way. And besides - the Seven should have known better than to try something like that. Stan told Sage to back down, and she didn't." The woman nodded. "I told them to let me go, but they didn't listen until it was too late." Homelander looked down at her then, his eyes soft.

Rangel looked like she might press the matter further, but, thinking wiser of it, she let the words hang in the room, her mind stalled as they echoed back at her. This was an impossible task, the thought came to her solidly. No measure of therapy they did would ever work - not as long as they were together... and they'd all seen how separating them had gone. Fighting back a sigh, she reviewed her notes, her stomach tightening as she read.

Silence. Ten minutes, and thirty five seconds - before I broke it. I had to - they'd do this all session if I let them.

"Let them". As if. Homelander and the woman, but especially the woman now, seem completely ardent in their defense of this union. Her speculations on Homelander's alleged suffering do raise eyebrows, though - there's no way she could know, but she acts as though she does.

Likely she's been stalking him.

Not worth pressing at the current time. 

Homelander seems content to allow the woman to defend him; I wonder about this. For anyone else, being spoken for in such a way would be seen as disrespect - but in her case... could it be that he enjoys her fighting for him - for them?

Speak to Stan after this meeting. 

Dr. Rangel looked up at the couple again, a smile on her face. "Understood," she said, watching as their faces curled in suspicion. "I won't press it further." She moved to fish something out of her drawer: two sheets of paper and two pens. 

"I would, though, like to ask you to take this short assessment - both of you. I feel that it would serve to better help me, as well as yourselves, understand what might lie behind this lack of concern for the damage you caused, even in the name of love."

The woman picked up the sheets and pens, passing one to Homelander, and scoffed. "You want us to take the Hare Psychopathy Checklist."

Dr. Rangel nodded. "Yes. I think it would be informative - or, at the very least, a way for you to see each other through a different lens."

Homelander looked the checklist over, something he couldn't explain surging within him. The woman had been right - this was a violation. Everything Vought did was a violation. It hadn't been enough to spy on them while they shopped, or send Noir to her apartment; they wanted to crack open their skulls, and force their way inside there, too. He grit his teeth - but softened slightly, when he saw that the woman was looking the test over, filling it in carefully - honestly. Homelander picked up his pen, and turned his gaze to the page.

Homelander felt numb as he filled in the answers, the hand gripping the pen no longer feeling like his own. The memories came flooding back to him - the bloodshed, the torture - washing over him until the bite of iron filled his nose. He bit back a rare gag, before turning to the woman when she squeezed his hand. filling out the checklist as though it were a puzzle, or a game. She smiled at him, and her words from before echoed in his mind.

You said it need to be done. I believe you.

Homelander swallowed, before stiffly passing his assessment back to Rangel along with the woman, a dark gleam in her eye. Dr. Rangel took the papers, looking through them with a gaze that betrayed nothing, making notes, circling, inspecting with a fine-tooth comb - before she passed the papers back to them silently. 

"32 out of 44," the woman murmured, before looking up at Rangel. "Is that high?" she asked, voice tentatively excited.

Homelander looked down at his paper, a mix of satisfaction and a strange dread swirling within him. The woman turned to face him, eyes searching. "Homelander?"

He blinked, twice, before looking down.

"34," he said, before steeling himself, looking down at her. "I got 34 out of 44." The woman's eyes widened, before she smiled softly. "You do get it," she murmured, taking his hand in hers.

Homelander reached forward, pulling her onto his lap and kissing her, mouth soft and wild all at once. Her words floated through him, settling in his chest and spreading in his veins, until the refrain made its home in his every cell. The sound of her was all-encompassing, he thought; she was in his lap, at his ear, wrapped around his heart, his lungs; if he listened closely, he could hear her gentle lilt, calling to him at the forefront of his brain.

You do get it...

I do, Homelander thought, tracing her body with reverent hands. I really, really do.

Dr. Rangel cleared her throat as the couple embraced, but lost in their union, they paid her no mind, instead pulling each other closer, the gasps that poured from their lips like the jagged plunge of a waterfall. 

Finally, they broke away, faces tinged with shy glee. Homelander pecked the woman on the nose. "I got you beat," he teased, laughing softly when the woman nipped at his lower lip. "For now," she countered playfully, holding him again. She turned in his lap to face Dr. Rangel, who wore an expression of polite incredulousness. She wrote for a second, and then looked up.

"You know what, Rangel? I think this session was a success!" the woman said, her tone spilling over with mirth. Homelander laughed, kissing her forehead. "Actually? I think I agree. You've given us a lot to think about," he snarked, rising to his feet. He held out his hand, and the woman took it. Taking her in his arms, he floated to the door, throwing Dr. Rangel one last spiteful little smirk, before exiting. Rangel watched them go, a polite smile on her face, until they left the room, before holding her head in her hands and sighing.

Damn it, Stan. What are you thinking, tasking me with them? What is your plan?

Stan stood by the window, a stack of files in his hands, as Rangel laid out the proceedings of Homelander and the woman's therapy session out to him, her voice drawn.

"I knew it was likely that neither of them would be concerned with the checklist - that was never the point. But the points you had me bring up, especially the stalking implication? You push them too far, Stan -  and, forgive me for saying this... not at your own expense. I risk my life to further your plans for Homelander, and you won't make clear what those plans are. Frankly, sir, I believe this is information I have the right to know."

Stan let the words settle in the air, a curious expression on his face as he regarded Rangel. She was the top psychologist in her field, the one Vought had copied techniques from before hiring her on officially. She'd threatened to take them to court for it, he remembered fondly. Both of them knew it wouldn't have ended in her favor, but the damage she'd threatened to do to the company - revealing confidential documents, encouraging Vought personnel to come forward, writing a statement herself, with all the authority her position in the psychology world entailed - had proved to be too large of a threat. So he'd offered her a position within Vought itself, complete with a salary and benefits package too lucrative to decline.

Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends? Stan thought, his smile etching a degree warmer a he nodded finally, turning to face Rangel.

"You're right," he started, hands clasped in front of him. "I've been... withholding with my plans regarding Homelander. But that is because I know Homelander. He's a paranoid egomaniac who would sniff out the first sign of a plot against him, especially while in such close quarters. If you'd known the plan, you would have behaved differently. You would have," he said, stopping Rangel's protest with a stern look. "All you need to know for now... is what they tell you. What questions I need you to ask. You may have been right about the stalking - but that was a necessary risk. We need to gauge the depth of their bond, as well as any contributing factors that lead to its strength."

Rangel, exasperated, raised her brows and sighed heavily, leaning in. "But why, Stan? To what end? Surely not for the goal of helping them." Stan gave an amused tut, eyes slightly crinkled. Therese never failed to amuse him when she got indignant like this.

"Of course not," he said. "But that is something you will come to learn in due time." And with that, he moved to sit at his desk, reading through his files again. Dr. Rangel waited for a moment, her gaze beaming into his bowed head, before giving an annoyed tut and leaving, the click of the door gentle as she exited. Stan read on, eyes a million lightyears away.

The woman in the file was 19 years old, a scrappy little thing with lank, dark hair that hung like a curtain, obscuring her face from view. Single, no family, no education past public school, though she had tried - and was drowning in debt as a result. Spotty job history, but had been working at a library for the past few months before answering Vought's ad. She was a New York native, had never left the state. Addict parents, before they died. Drug dependent, Stan saw, eyeing the note about a small, violet mark standing faintly at the crease of her elbow. But that would have to be fine - she was the only one to have stayed past the disclaimers. 

Jane Wright.

Stan looked up from her file, the story of her life, and towards his desktop. Her intake video. Jane sat on a doctor's bench, wearing a hospital gown, revealing eyes framed by violent gray rings when she raised her head. They'd kept her within the Tower to ensure she was thoroughly detoxed before implantation, and she was nearing her limit. Her voice was cracked, raw, when she spoke to the person behind the camera, beseeching them with that awful, bleary gaze.

"Please," she rasped. "Just one more hit... I can't get clean cold turkey. I've tried before; it's not going to work."

The person behind the camera answered her calmly. "Vought strives to ensure the success of this project by any means necessary, Ms. Wright. That means nothing that could endanger the fetus - you need a clean break. No tapering."

Jane's eyebrows shot up, a fight on her lips, before her face bloomed a delicate green beneath her sick pallor; someone offered her a wastebasket offscreen, their arm reaching forward and dangling it towards her. She snatched it up, and vomited soundly, heaving as her stomach emptied itself. She spat into the trashcan afterward, taking a swig of water.

"You have to let me out of here,"  Jane begged, shaking her head. "I'll come back, I swear. I just can't do this."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Ms. Wright. Engaging in illicit drug consumption would endanger the fetus."

Stan shut off the video before Jane vomited again; she'd spent the next four days purging the drugs from her system, and another week being slowly brought back to full health, complete with an IV, a sturdy regime of nutrient dense foods, and a Trazadone-induced bedtime of 9pm. She was an ordinary girl, Stan mused, with ordinary problems. But what set her apart in Vought's eyes was her resolve. Each time she'd picked herself off the floor after emptying her stomach, or answered Vought's questions at the height of withdrawal, she proved that she was the perfect subject for Project Odessa. She was strong, he praised her. And this newest creation she would bring forth needed strength - as much of it as he could get.

[e350tb]

Gravity Falls/Doctor Who - Mabel Vs The Toymaker

Mabel stood in front of the small toy store in the Gravity Falls Mall, her face set in an uncharacteristic determined frown.

It wasn’t really that much to look at. It was a faux-retro structure, the facade make of dyed red teak, with a black sign above it that read ‘The Toyroom Toys and Gifts.’ There were puppets and dolls displayed in the window next to the big wooden door, each of them painted and dressed in bright colourful costumes - clowns, jesters, harlequins, all garish in tone.

Soos swallowed as they approached the shop, gazing at the window. He looked closely at a doll with brown skin and messy hair, wearing a purple-and-white clown suit with a big red nose.

“You sure they’re here, dood?” he asked.

“The mysterious toy store that appeared overnight?” replied Mabel. “Of course Dipper would’ve come here. He couldn’t pass up a mystery like that!”

“Oh, okay.” Soos tugged on his collar. “But shouldn’t we get Stan and Ford before we go in?”

“I left a note on the table,” replied Mabel. “If anything awful happens to us, they’ll come to the rescue!”

“Oh.” Soos gulped. “Good.”

Mabel pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The store was dark, eerily lit by old electric lights that left long shadows over the creaking wooden floorboards. There were rows and rows of toys on shelves to the left and right, hidden by the darkness, but the middle of the shop was clear like a gangway, leading to the black oak counter. Behind this were more puppets, hung on hooks liked hanged men, and a few dusty old board games on small shelves below. There was nobody at the counter, but an old bell stood by the equally ancient-looking cash register.

Mabel and Soos walked to the counter, the floors squeaking and groaning under their weight. Without hesitation, Mabel began pressing the button on the bell – the dinging echoed.

“Heh, guess nobody’s home,” said Soos. “We should–”

He turned around.

“Wilkommen to mein shop.”

Soos jumped and screamed. A man had appeared behind him – he wore a cowboy’s outfit, a clearly plastic badge on his white buttoned shirt and a big black hat framing his forehead. He seemed an older gentlemen, grey-haired and somewhat weathered, but the wide smile seemed almost childish. Were it not for the strange glimmer in his blue eyes, he’d almost seem like an ordinary, if eccentric, shopkeeper.

“Oh! Sorry dude, you crept up on me!” Soos rubbed the back of his head. “Uh, we’re just here to…”

“Cut the act!” snapped Mabel, pointing accusingly at the shopkeeper. “Where’s Dipper? What did you do to him?”

The man’s brows shot up.

“Dipper?” He rubbed his chin. “Do we have ein Dipper? Let me think…”

He walked behind the counter, kneeling down to look beneath it.

“I think I saw the Dipper,” he said. “Would he have been with the red-haired girl? Green flannel, freckles?”

“Yeah,” replied Mabel, crossing her arms. “Where are they?”

“Let me see… that would be filed under das ‘Pine Tree,” mused the man. “Und das ice bag…”

Mabel smacked her hands on the counter.

“Where are they?” she demanded again.

“Now really, there’s a lot under here,” replied the shopkeeper. “I need a little time to… aha!”

He stood up, his hands cupped together.

“Now, you is looking for the Dipper, ja?” he said. “Und the Wendy?”

“Yeah!” snapped Mabel. “Where are they?”

“Uh… dood,” Soos put a hand on Mabel’s shoulder. “We never told him Wendy’s name.”

“Here ist das Dipper…” The man placed a small object on the counter. “...und das Wendy.” He placed another next to it.

Mabel took up the objects with trembling hands. One was a wooden figurine teenage boy, wearing a vest, orange shirt and shorts, and clad in a familiar blue and white hat, smiling fairly neutrally up at her. The other was a teenage girl with long red hair, a trapper hat, a green flannel shirt and jeans, again with an easy smile. Their features were printed on the front and back of the flat figures, with the sides an unpainted wood colour. They were like little figures from an old wooden train set.

“What did you do to them?!” Mabel exclaimed, horrified.

“Ah, you see, little Dipper wanted to see what the ‘mystery’ of this little shop was,” replied the man, “so he dragged his little girlfriend here to snoop around, see what they could see. Und that’s when they found me, and all of my toys, and Dipper, he was so confident, he wanted me to let them go. So I told him I would play a game with him. If he won, I’d give him all my toys. But if I won…”

He grinned, and Mabel noticed he seemed to have far too many teeth. A single golden tooth shimmered in the left side of his mouth.

“Ah, but I did win,” he continued. “And now we both have what we wanted, ja? Dipper und Wendy get to know the mystery of the toy shop, forever und ever, and I get some more new toys to have fun with.”

“But why?” asked Mabel. “Why make them this? Who are you?”

The man took the wooden Dipper and Wendy out of Mabel’s hands, placing them on the table.

“I am the Toymaker,” he replied, his accent slipping from a faux German to a deep British.

“Yeah, kinda guess that, dood,” said Soos, looking around. “I mean I guess it’s a hobby.”

“Soos!”

“What? You gotta hand it to him, there’s some pretty neat stuff in here,” Soos shrugged.

Mabel narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah, sorry, I deserve that.” Soos looked at his feet.

Mabel turned back to the Toymaker, reaching for the wooden figures.

“Ah-ah-ah!” the Toymaker raised his hand. “You cannot be having my toys. That is theft! Scandalous!”

“They’re not yours!” shouted Mabel.

“But they are,” replied the Toymaker. “I won them, fair und square! If you want them back, you must be winning the game yourself.”

Mabel and Soos exchanged glances.

“Soos,” she said, “go tell Grunkle Stan what’s happening.”

“On it!” Soos saluted and headed for the door. He reached it, pushed on it - and slammed into it as it failed to move.

“Aw man, I always do that…”

He tried pulling, but to no avail.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” said the Toymaker. “No leaving until the game is complete.”

Mabel furrowed her brow.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll play your game. I mean, I don’t really have a choice…”

The Toymaker leaned in.

“Well then,” he said, and the store shifted around them. Suddenly, the counter was a table, and Mabel was swept onto a chair across from the Toymaker. She heard a yelp, and Soos was pushed into place next to them.

The Toymaker narrowed his eyes.

“What shall we play?”

He leaned back, producing a deck of cards which he began to shuffle.

“I have been busy since I found your brother, you know,” he said, his accent becoming British again. “Your town has been an interesting little distraction from my… current game. So much more colourful than that joyless Doctor…”

He flipped through the cards impossibly quickly.

“I beat the Time Baby in a game of snap,” he said, “and made him into so many marbles. I trapped the unicorns in slide-puzzles, and exiled the Shapeshifter to the Baltic Avenue space - though I prefer Coventry Street myself. I made Blendin Blandin my Joker card…”

He held up the Joker, revealing a picture of the time traveller on the front. He tossed it away contemptuously.

“Bill Cipher played for his freedom,” he continued. “He lost. I made him a talking board.”

“Bill?” Mabel’s eyes widened. “But how?”

“I still wait for the main game,” said the Toymaker, ignoring Mabel’s response. “The final contest against the Doctor. But I do enjoy a few extra games on the side.”

“Who’s the Doctor?” asked Soos.

“I don’t get it,” said Mabel. “Dipper and Wendy only disappeared last night. How’d you get the time to play against all those other people?”

“You really think I would be so boring as to obey the rules of linear time?” sniffed the Toymaker.

Mabel stared at the Dipper and Wendy figures.

“So they could’ve actually been here for…”

“We have spoken enough!” The Toymaker’s German accent briefly returned. “Now… what shall we play, Mabel Pines?”

“How do we know you won’t cheat?” asked Mabel.

The Toymaker’s eyes widened.

“Never!” he exclaimed. “Outrageous! For shame! I must abide by the rules of the game! To do otherwise would be unthinkable!”

Mabel and Soos exchanged glances.

“Go fish,” declared Mabel. “We’ll play that.”

“Sehr gut!” The German accent was back again as he dealt the cards - seven for him, seven for Mabel. He shuffled the cards again and placed them face down in the middle. “Most matches win?”

“You’re on.”

The Toymaker leaned in.

“By all means,” he said. “You first.”

Mabel looked down at her hand - ten of spades, queen of hearts, eight of hearts, seven of diamonds, ace of diamonds, seven of clubs and nine of clubs. She swallowed.

“Do you have any sevens?” she asked.

The Toymaker pulled a single card from his deck and handed it over - the seven of diamonds. Soos began to lean over to see his hand - he slapped him away.

“Okay… do you have any tens?”

The Toymaker smirked.

“Go fish.”

Mabel picked up another card - the nine of spades. The Toymaker studied his cards.

“You know, your brother challenged me to a game of logic,” he said. “Chess. Do you have any eights?”

Mabel swallowed, handing over her eight of hearts.

“Chess?” she quizzed.

“Ja,” the Toymaker nodded. “Nearly won too. Just made one tiny wrong move… but sometimes that’s all it takes.”

He smirked.

“Show me your Queens.”

Mabel handed over the queen of hearts.

“Aw man, dood, I can’t watch…” Soos covered his eyes.

“It’s always the ones that be thinking they are the cleverest,” sneered the Toymaker. “I would like to play your Großonkel Ford after we’ve finished here. Fours?”

Mabel shook her head. “Go fish.”

The Toymaker shrugged, drawing a card.

“It is always fun to play against the hubristic,” he said.

“Got any aces?” demanded Mabel.

The Toymaker smirked again. “Go fish.”

Mabel drew once more - the Jack of clubs.

“Ford would clean you up,” she snorted.

“No, I think I would be doing the cleaning,” he replied. “He is, as they say, too clever by half. Like the poor Dipper. Got any nines?”

With a shaking hand, Mabel handed over her two nines.

“Wunderbar,” said the Toymaker. “And any fives?”

“Go fish, jerk,” spat Mabel.

“Ooh, bad sportsmanship.” The toymaker shook his head as he drew a card. “But I am right, no? Sooner or later he was always going to end up in a fight he couldn’t win.”

“Jacks?” asked Mabel, trying not to take the bait.

“You must be going fishing!” The Toymaker clapped his hands together.

Mabel gritted her teeth, drawing the king of diamonds. The Toymaker grinned unpleasantly.

“Sevens?”

Mabel gulped - she had three, nearly a match. Still, she reluctantly handed them over.

“And poor Wendy,” he continued. “She tried to fight me when he lost – can you believe that? So uncivilised. Threes?”

“Go fish.”

“But what can you expect from her kind?” asked the Toymaker, drawing the card. “So headstrong. So foolish. If she wanted so badly to stay with her Dipper, I could only oblige.”

“Got any fours?”

“Go und fish!”

Mabel drew a card - the ace of hearts.

“So many possibilities for matches,” said the Toymaker, looking at his hand. “Any nines?”

“Go fish.”

The Toymaker shrugged, drawing a card.

“Jacks?” asked Mabel.

The Toymaker handed over a card - the Jack of hearts.

“How about you give me my sevens back?” she demanded.

The Toymaker smiled wryly and did so.

“How ‘bout any tens?”

“Go fish.”

She drew a three of hearts.

It continued like this for a few more turns. The Toymaker quickly seized the three but had to go fish asking for twos. Mabel claimed the three of clubs from him but lost out asking for fours - she ‘fished’ a four of diamonds, ironically enough. The Toymaker took Mabel’s aces, but went fishing when she had no fives. Mabel asked for Jacks and got nothing, fishing a ten of hearts.

The Toymaker smirked.

“Your sevens, fraulein.”

Mabel handed them over with a shaking hand, and the Toymaker laid them out in front of him, along with a single seven of spades from his hand.

“Ein point for me.”

“Uh, when we get turned into toys and stuff,” said Soos, “can I be a teddy bear? Feels like that’d hurt less.”

“Soos!” exclaimed Mabel.

“Any tens?”

Mabel swallowed as she handed them over.

“Just sayin’,” Soos shrugged.

“How about twos?”

“Go fish,” grunted Mabel.

She looked at her hand as the Toymaker did so.

“Any nines?” she asked.

The Toymaker handed over the nines of clubs, spades and hearts.

“You would be making good playing cards, I think,” he said.

“Shut up,” said Mabel. “Threes?”

“Go und fish.”

She drew the five of spades…

“Any Kings?”

…and handed over the King of Diamonds. She had no sixes, though, so the Toymaker drew.

On the game went. Mabel got two eights, spades and hearts, but the Toymaker had no fours, so she drew a four of clubs. The Toymaker asks for eights but got none. Mabel took three twos from him, missing only the two of spades, and reclaimed the nines, but he had no threes, so she drew. The Toymaker requested aces but got nothing.

“Any fives?”

The Toymaker handed over three cards. She gathered them with her five of spades and slapped them on the table in front of her.

“Read ‘em and weep, sucker!” she snapped. “One to me! Now show me a three!”

“Nein, go fish.”

Mabel slapped her forehead and drew. As she did so, her eyes widened, and she gathered the new jack with her three other jacks and put them in front of her.

“Two to me.”

“Ja, ja, very good,” the Toymaker said dismissively. “Your nines.”

Mabel shook her head as she handed over her three nines.

“Und your aces?”

“Go fish,” snorted Mabel.

The Toymaker drew.

“Show me your fours.”

“Nein, go fish.”

She drew an eight of diamonds, and immediately had to hand it over as the Toymaker asked for eights. She had no Kings, so he drew again.

On it went. Mabel asked for tens and got nothing, but drew the ten of clubs anyway. The Toymaker took back the nines and unsuccessfully tried for eights. Mabel took back the Kings but had no luck on threes. She drew a queen of diamonds that the Toymaker promptly took, along with her twos. These he drew in front of him - another set. He had no luck on nines, and Mabel took the queens back. He’d no threes so she drew again - eight of clubs.

The Toymaker took her tens. He had no luck on aces, but drew the nine of diamonds and made another match. Mabels took his aces, but drew when he had no kings. He took her fours, and then looked at her over the cards.

“Shall we up the ante?” he asked. “One turn each from now on. We keep going until we have no cards.”

Mabel scratched her chin.

“Wouldn’t that be messing with the rules?” she asked.

“Not,” replied the Toymaker, “if they are house rules.”

Mabel nodded.

“Fine,” she said.

She looked at her cards.

“Eights?”

The Toymaker handed over three - another set!

“Sixes?” he asked.

Mabel handed over her six, and the Toymaker made another set.

“Aw dood…” Soos clutched his head, sweating.

“Threes.”

“Go fish.”

Mabel drew a card - three of diamonds.

“Fours?”

Mabel swallowed. “Go fish.”

He drew a card.

“Kings?”

“Go fish.”

She drew the four of spades.

“Tens?”

“Go fish.”

He drew as she looked at her cards, sweating.

She inhaled deeply.

“Aces?”

He handed over two cards, and Mabel made another set.

“Fours?” he asked again.

Mabel handed over hers - he made a set once more. She looked at her cards - three threes, three queens, three kings.

“Q-queens?” she stammered.

“Go und fish.”

She drew with trembling hand, and produced the king of spades. She laid them out - one more match.

“We are tied!” exclaimed the Toymaker. “With three suits left in play. Oh, I am so excited! Now… your threes.”

Mabel swallowed, handing them over.

“Now,” exclaimed the Toymaker. “The gamble! I have six cards, you have three. To complete the set, one of us must draw. Will it be you?”

Mabel looked down at the deck - there were a paltry few cards left. She took a deep breath and channelled her inner Grunkle Stan.

“Got any queens?” she asked, knowing full-well he didn’t.

He gestured to the cards, and she drew.

She looked down at the Three of Spades in her hand.

“Your turn.”

“Hmm…” the Toymaker scratched his chin. “If I correctly guess what you have, I can take it, and you lose. But if I don’t… a roll of the dice. A pure gamble.”

He leaned in, studying Mabel closely.

“Do you have any… tens?”

Mabel let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“Go fish.”

He did so.

“Ten of diamonds,” he said, “a set.”

He laid them in front of him.

“Got any threes?” demanded Mabel.

He handed three over, and she too made a set.

“No cards,” said the Toymaker. “I have no choice but to draw… and we both know I’ll get…”

He drew the card.

“Got any queens?” asked Mabel.

“The Queen of Spades,” nodded the Toymaker. “The last remaining card.”

He handed it over, and Mabel laid her remaining cards in front of her.

“Seven points,” said Mabel. “You’ve only got six. I win.”

The Toymaker nodded, impressed.

“A bold gamble at the end,” he said. “You would put so much on the line to save your brother. It… puzzles me.”

Mabel leaned over the table.

“Give them back,” she snarled. “Now.”

The Toymaker adjusted his hat.

“Well why didn’t y’all just say so?” he asked in an exaggerated cowboy accent. “One Dipper n’ one Wendy comin’ right up!”

He clapped his hands together.

“O’ course,” he continued, “you never specified in what condition you’d get ‘em, sooo…”

“Wait, what?” exclaimed Mabel.

“Aw dood! He tricked us with genie logic!” blurted Soos.

“No, I want them back as people!” shouted Mabel. “You hear me? As peo–”

“Guten tag, fraulein! Danke for playing!”

Mabel felt herself being sucked backwards, flying through the air towards the door - which seemed a lot farther away then it had been when she entered. With a mighty crash, she slammed through the door, skidding along the cold, marble floors of the mall and coming to a stop in front of a bench. Soos flew out after her, flying across the mall and into a garbage can on the other side.

“Mabel!”

Mabel looked up, rubbing her head. Grunkle Stan was leaning over her, clutching her shoulders.

“What happened?!” he exclaimed. “What did that shyster do to you? I’m gonna give him a piece o’...”

“That might not be possible, Stanley.”

Ford was looking back towards the store front - the toy shop was gone, replaced with a close shutter and a ‘new store opening soon’ banner. He shook his head, turning back to Mabel.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Where’s Dipper and Wendy?”

Mabel felt something hard in her hand - she opened it, and the little figures that were her brother and friend sat on her palm, as inanimate as any object.

“Ford,” said Stan, his voice dangerously calm. “We’re gonna find this jerk, right?”

Ford shook his head.

“I don’t know, Stan,” he replied. “The Celestial Toymaker might only be found if he wants to be found. It’s possible he’s tracking an, uh, mutual acquaintance, but if anything that man’s even more difficult to find.”

“But we can turn them back, right?” Mabel asked.

Ford put a hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “But I will try, I promise.”

“And if we can’t?” demanded Stan.

Ford took a deep breath.

“Then we track him,” he said. “And if we can’t track him… we wait.”

Mabel looked down at the small figures, wondering what they must be feeling right now. She blinked some tears out of her eyes and held them close to her heart, hoping they could at least feel the beat.

“I’ll fix this, guys,” she whispered. “I promise.”

Dipper and Wendy didn’t reply.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

rock and roll and leather skirts.

pairing: rockstar!sebastian stan x writer!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (18+), slight breeding and choking kink

a/n: i just really love returning to this pairing. enjoy xx

It was torture.

Sebastian was sure that the way his wife looked in the crowd was nothing but torture designed to ensure he had a hard on for the whole of the show. He just couldn’t help it. How could he when she was dancing in the front row in nothing but the skinniest pair of heels, a thin strap black top and the tightest leather skirt ever designed by man. Adding to all of that, he hadn’t seen her in the past three months, stuck on an European tour his wife couldn’t accompany him on, thus he felt like he was three seconds away from pulling her on stage and having his way with her. He just couldn’t help it, his eyes couldn’t leave her. She was almost like his very own rock muse, a nymph tempting him with flowing locks as she danced to his music and soft skin illuminated by the bright halcyon light. He could hear unwritten music whenever he looked at her and god if he couldn’t help to hear the music that would come out of her scarlet tinted lips when he got his hands on her. 

The set seemed to last forever and while he adored his job and adored to play a sold out stadium, he loved to watch his wife squirm under him. As the last chord played, he was out the stadium, finding the first water bottle to throw over himself before the next morning headliner became his and his raging hard on, which he guessed wouldn’t be the first time that happened. Pushing his hair away from his face, he saw her strut backstage, the red backstage pass resting against her breasts. God damn it, that woman would be the reason he’d someday get caught and arrested for public indecency. She smiled with a grace that was so typically hers, wrapping her arms around him before leaning over to kiss him. 

How in the heck had he even scored her? He still looked like a crazy man, with messy hair and tattoos he regretted scattered all over him and she, god, she was fantastic. He could never write enough love songs about it and he couldn’t even write enough songs at how fucking good that skirt looked on her. He interrupted the kiss himself to look at her, at how fucking delectable she was even after all these yers. Of course, she now hated him less than when she first met him. 

     - Baby, that fucking skirt ... - his hand sneaked up to her ass, cupping it shamelessly as if there wasn’t staff or any of his bandmates around. 

     - I missed you too. - she teased, her hands warm against his shirtless shoulders. His fingers traced her arm, lips ghosting over her shoulder and up her neck, just below her ear. - Seb, the boys ...

     - Shouldn’t have worn that skirt then, baby bunny. - he nibbled the soft skin under her ear, hard enough to leave a mark so the dad who always sized her up at school drop offs would know he was back in town. - Fuck, you come here after I haven’t seen you for months dressed like every rocker’s wet dream. 

    - I wanted to look good for you. - she flushed under his gaze.

Fuck, she couldn’t look any sweeter with her little hot cheeks and watery eyes as if they hadn’t been married for 5 years and trying and testing both his and her fantasies; however, this skirt seemed to do it for him. He could feel his trousers tighten just thinking about it and those heels making her legs so long did not help either. His hand cupped her thigh, pushing it to hook against his own leg as he kissed her neck, sensing the nice soft flower scent from her perfume. God, he fucking missed her. 

    - You’re gonna let me fuck you, baby? - he whispered against her ear, breathy laugh escaping as he heard that soft little moan she wanted to hide from him finally materialise. - Hm? You want me to fuck you silly backstage? You want it, bunny baby?

     - Seb ... - she whined her eyes gazing the set around her, worried anyone was watching but everyone mostly ignored it. It was a rock concert backstage, sex was as ordinary as clouds in the sky. - Seb, the people ...

      - Aw bunny baby ... - he pinched her chin, pulling it up so she was looking at his eyes, his blue eyes which were now midnight blue clouded by lust. - Don’t worry, don’t want any fucking roadie getting any ideas. 

She didn’t even know what to say, instead nodding as she herself started to get uncomfortable with not being flushed to him. He hoisted her up, his hands gripping her waist as he made his way into the first room he could find. It didn’t matter where they were, if he couldn’t be inside her, he felt like he was going to explode. He pinned her against the door, his hands travelling and roaming her body while he kissed her neck and pulse, lightly bitting onto her skin as if he wanted to claim her. He wanted to claim her. 

     - Looking all sinful on the front row. - he growled recalling that view from the stage. - Getting all those stupid boys with their girlfriends all fired up. Raising their hopes up ...

     - I’m not. - she moaned as he bite harshly on her neck. 

     - You’re mine. - his voice was strained, partly from singing, partly from pure jealousy. He normally kept it under wraps yet she couldn’t help but feel attracted to it whenever he acted possessive about her. His lips crashed against hers, hands pushing her skirt off and onto the floor, causing a bit of tear to the fabric. Not that any of them minded. - I’ll fucking prove to you just how much you’re mine.

     - Please. - she begged, parting her legs for her generous lover. However, he was not in the mood for gentleness. As her hands travelled up his chest, feeling every ripple of his skin, he caged and trapped her hands above her head, mockingly smiling as she looked at him confused. 

     - Aren’t you pretty? - he mocked her, tongue licking his lips as he observed her chest raise up and down. - So fucking pretty, baby. Wanna know what it felt like seeing you and not being able to do anything?

His distance from her didn’t last long enough, he was back on her like a wolf. He wanted to bask on her scent, lips climbing up from her neck to her lips in slow, desperate motions. She whined wantonly, wanting to be freed from his grip to touch him, try to undress him, anything, but he didn’t allow her. No, Sebastian liked control and he was going to remain holding power over it. Pulling her underwear to the middle of her legs, he started to torture her sex, his fingers slowly thrusting in and out of her heat. Her chest rose up and down in slower motions, head trashing from side to side as she tried to deal with how his feeling felt dragging against her walls. God, he could make that vision the cover of his next album. Her breathe was rapid and uncontrolled, hands and fingers tensing as she felt her abdomen tighten up only to loosen up as he took his fingers off her heat. She looked at him betrayed and upset but he only smiled, bringing his fingers to his lips, licking them in sin. 

     - Felt like that. - he almost mocked her state, proud he had gotten his satisfaction but that wasn’t enough. Looking at her only fired her up even more. He let go of her hands, both of his hands cupping her face to kiss her fervently and harshly as if she was going to disappear. Her nails dragged up his back, leaving marks which were sure to make her proud until they reached his leather trousers. She quickly made way of unbuttoning them, trying to push it down but her slowness saw him help her out. 

He guided the head of his cock towards her folds before he quickly sheathed himself inside her heat. He growled, eyes rolling as he seemed to find himself in his personal eden the more he buried himself in her. Her hands pulled at him, holding him closed as he reached a hilt. His lips quickly founds hers as he started to thrust in and out of her slowly and filed with wanton. Her moans were musical and breathy, her walls contracted around him almost in sync and he swore he could die happy like this. 

     - Fuck, baby. Had forgotten how good you fucking felt around me. - he spoke through wet kisses, his hands slowly guiding her hip movements. - Aren’t you a fucking minx? My own little sex muse. 

     - Seb, please. - her nails buried onto the skin of his back, trying to quicken her movements. He wanted to go fast, rough, ignore her pleasure and merely take his but how could he when she looked so delectable, so sweet begging for him. - Please.

     - Oh, baby ... - he growled out, hand holding her neck against the door as he snapped his hips forward. She broke on in a long moan as his cock dragged in and out of her wall, mixing with the lewd sounds of his skin hitting hers. Her breathe struggled to recover, shaky from the sheer pleasure of him snapping his hips in and out of her without a care and from his grip on her neck. Her hands gripped at his body as he continued his assault on her cunt, lips sometimes stealing dirty, messy kisses from her, drinking from her lips. - Are you gonna let me cum inside of you, bunny baby? Have you dripping with my cum as you step outside? Huh? You gonna let me?

     - Please. - she moaned pathetically, no longer caring how she’d look once she stepped outside. He smiled through the kiss, hand leaving her neck to toy with her clit, the other helping him pull himself in and out of her in almost animal movements. He wanted it, he wanted her to fall apart, he wanted the world to know she was his. His moves grew uncontrollable and out of pace until his hips jerked still, a dirty, raspy moan leaving the rocker’s mouth as ropes and ropes of white cum painted her walls, some of it slightly trickling down her leg.

She held herself against him, trying to hold her legs up despite how trembly they felt. He panted through a smile, looking down to bask in another one of her kisses, holding her against him before she could fall. The two collapsed onto a nearby couch, her half naked body flushed against his as both tried to regain some sense of regular breathing. 

     - Three months is too long, baby bun. 

     - I know. - she rested her chin on his chest, looking up at him with a mischievous little smile. 

     -  Sex’s incredible though. - he stole a playful kiss from her. - I might just put your moans in a song one day.

     - Don’t you dare. - she herself peppered kisses onto his lips, jokingly pointed her finger at him.

     - Fucking love you, baby. Fucking love you. 

[what-is-your-plan-today]

CSI: Rogers and Barnes- The Serious Cereal Serial Killer Ch 13: Cap’N Crunch

Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: The investigation begins to slot together...with some suprising results.

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s!!!!

Episode Pairings:  Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Song for Episode:  The Imitation Game by Alexandre Desplat

A/N: This is a LONG chapter guys, but  the case  is cracked... ooooohhhhhhh!

As always we live for re-blogs and comments  

CSI Rogers and Barnes Master List // Main Masterlist I'd look at one of my stonecutters hammering away at the rock, perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet, at the hundred and first blow it would split in two, and I knew it was not that blow that did it, but all that had gone before. - Jacob  Riis

By the time they had arrived at Pierce’s, the press were already circling like vultures. Steve called Fury on the way to fill him in on what they had found in Stan’s notes and to his surprise the Commander wasn’t as shocked as Steve had expected. Mind you, he had stated to Steve that he suspected a cover up had happened so maybe this was simply cementing his initial suspicions. The Captain drove carefully through the crowd which was being parted by a number of Thor’s officers, before the large blonde himself gave them both a nod, lifting the tape to allow him to steer his car into the inner boundary. They parked up, climbed out and headed up the drive way which led to the double garage at the side of the large house.

Tony, Sam and Bruce were already in the garage along with Bucky and Commander Fury.

“Sir.” Steve nodded to the man, watching in the corner of his eye as Katie approached the car, stopping by the driver’s side to get a look.

“I take it that’s what killed him.” She said, nodding to the body. Steve walked up behind her, stooped down and his eyes flickered to the single bullet hole straight between Pierce’s eyes.

“Yup.” Tony said. “No other marks or bruises. The blood splatter indicates that he was shot where he is now, so we’re not looking for a second crime scene, same as the others in that respect.” “Yeah, and here’s your cereal…” Bruce said, holding up a clear bag “I’m no expert but these look like Apple Puffs to me.” “Well that fits.” Bucky said “AP, Alexander Pierce.”

“Time of death?” Steve asked and Tony looked at him.

“Judging from the body you’re probably looking at between 5 and 6 hours ago.” “We’ll know more when we get him on the slab.” Sam said, and Steve nodded.

“5 or 6 hours ago means he was killed in daylight.” Fury said, and Steve took a deep breath.

“I’ll get Thor to have his team conduct a door-to-door.” he said, and Fury nodded as the Captain turned to Bucky “I take it there were no signs of breaking and entering?”

“No.” Bucky said. “Natasha and Clint are in the house supervising the detailed forensics sweep but so far nothing. No forced door, picked locks, smashed windows.”

“Which confirms, as with all the others that Pierce knew his attacker.” Steve nodded.

“This is all pointing one way.” Katie said, “Rumlow. He fits the Profile to a tee…”

“But if what you found in those files is right, Pierce has been shielding Rumlow, hell, hey all have one way or another. If it’s him, why is he targeting them? Fury asked

“And why is he suddenly breaking with his MO?” Steve asked, “None of our other bodies have been killed at home or in broad daylight.”

“Maybe he’s just getting sloppy.” Bucky shrugged

“No.” Katie shook her head “That was an execution. Nothing about this is sloppy. If you want my opinion, he’s reached the end, everyone on that list of people involved in the conspiracy is now dead. This was done on purpose so we would find him like this, he’s taunting us…look what I did before you figured it out…”

“But that doesn’t answer my question.” Fury said “Why would Rumlow target the people who protected him?”

"Maybe he's just a fuckin’ psycho." Bucky shrugged “I mean, hey, Sam…”  Sam looked up at his shout “You said the last body, Schmidt, had been beaten in a blind rage right, symptomatic with someone losing their temper?”

“Yeah…” Sam nodded before he bent back over into the car, continuing his examinations and Bucky looked at her

“Point proven, he’s a loop.” “No. He’s not. He's too meticulous.” Katie shook her head and looked at Bucky “Each killing escalated in violence right? I think he was doing that to frighten Pierce. Leading him to think he was going to meet the most violent end of all.” she bit her lip. “What is it?” Steve asked.

“Rumlow can't have known for long...that Pierce was his father I mean.”

“His what?” Bucky spluttered as he looked at Katie then to Steve as Sam let out a huff of surprise too.

“Oh, yeah, there’s a lot we need to fill you in on…” Steve looked at the sergeant apologetically. “But not here…” Bucky nodded and Katie continued.

“If he had known, he would have been using him long before the rape case to progress his career because that's what he was like, a narcissist. Everything was about him. When Sarah Klein turned him down, he took her anyway...and then tried to do the same with me.”

“So he finds out about his parentage...he tells Pierce to make the rape case go away or he blows the fact that he got an underage girl pregnant.” Steve looked at her and she looked at him.

“That’s my guess, yeah.”

“So Pierce plays ball otherwise his career and reputation are dead in the water.” Fury mused “Which leaves Rumlow free to continue at the 99…” “And then he assaulted me.”  Katie swallowed “Which is where my dad comes into it. The assault charge against me is dropped as well, and we can assume Pierce was to thank for that too, only this time they hadn’t factored in Dad’s amazing ability to kick up a shit storm…so Pierce has no alternative but to force Rumlow to resign.”  she paused again and Steve spotted the look on her face, the look she wore when things were finally slotting into place.

“That’s what this is about…” she continued and looked up at Steve, then to Fury then to Bucky “In Rumlow’s eyes they all failed him…” she looked back at Steve “Rumlow had no family, no wife, nothing but the job so take that away from him and he becomes a no-one, which is the worst thing in the world that can happen to a narcissist.”

“But why wait 5 years?” Bucky looked at her.

“He didn’t.” she said, shaking her head “He killed the person he blamed at the time- My dad. Then 18 months or so later he gets busted for the robbery and handed 3 years. Only Pierce doesn’t bail him out this time so he spends his sentence getting angrier and angrier, because everyone else is to blame but himself. He gets out, and starts hunting the rest of them down. One by one. Anyone and everyone that he feels is at fault.”

There was a moment’s pause.

“Well…” Fury looked at Katie, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards lightly “Looks like you just cracked it Stark…”

And damned it, Steve couldn’t help the proud smile that spread across his face. His girl was clever, and he fucking loved her brain as well as her beauty.

“No wonder you wanted to bring her back from DC. Well, apart from the obvious more selfish reasons…” Bucky muttered to Steve, who looked at him, raising his eyebrow.

“I told you Buck…” he said, watching Katie who was talking to Fury now “She’s the best in the business.”

“…we still need to find him.” her voice said as Steve tuned back into what she was now discussing with the Commander. “And I need to prove it too. Back it all up with facts so it isn’t merely supposition…and I still want to know for sure what the fuck the cereal is all about.”

“So do I.” Fury said, as he looked at his watch “Ok, I’m gonna head back to Plaza, speak to Rhodes and Wuntcsh. We need to handle this press release carefully.” “I think we need to put Rumlow’s face out there.” Katie said “Let’s name him, have everyone in the country looking for him.”

Fury nodded “I agree, time we went public. Keep me up to speed.”

“Sir.” Steve nodded and watched the man make his way down towards his car. He turned back to his troops just as Natasha and Clint emerged from the house “Anything?”

They both shook their heads “Nothing out of the ordinary.” “Alright, in that case can you organise and supervise the house to house, Nat, get Thor onto it. Someone has to have seen something. Meanwhile, we’ll head back to the station.” he looked at Katie, Clint then Bucky “We’ll start digging into this theory, see if we can make it tie up. We could use your hawk eyes on this one Clint.”

“Happy to oblige Cap.” he saluted, before he turned to Nat “You keep my car, I’ll grab a lift off Super Serge…” he said, patting Bucky’s shoulder.

“Lucky me.” Bucky rolled his eyes, playfully.

***** They had been back at the station for roughly 2 hours, digging through everything they could think of whilst sprawled in the Incident Room. Clint had ordered pizza in for them, and as such there were discarded boxes along with cans of soda littered around the place, adding to the general chaos of the room.

Katie had written the key points of her theory on the whiteboard, and they were busy tacking documents to the board which seemed to back the different points up. The idea being, as Katie said, they could make connections, trace one link to another easier if the visuals were right there in front of them

It struck Steve just how like Howard Katie was. She worked in a very similar way, his mantra always being that if you eliminated the impossible, no matter what remains, however improbable, it had to be the truth. His daughter seemed to do the same. She was eliminating things that didn’t matter, that couldn’t possibly be true, things that were unimportant as she was following this one thread through the entire case. She’d said right from the off Rumlow was involved, even though they’d had no hard evidence to back that up. Well, now they did, and they were uncovering more and more as they worked.

Steve looked up as he saw Katie reaching for her phone. “Yeah, you get something?” he watched as she paused, her hand running through her hair before she grinned “Tony’ you're a fucking genius..."

She put the phone down and she stood up, moving to the board and pulling the DNA results off from where they'd been tacked up

"These are duplications..." she says "Tony's been digging and talking to a few of his friends in the private sector...apparently these were run originally by a Dr Armin Zola, who was struck off not long after for malpractice. The originals were mailed out to a Mr Brock Rumlow a few weeks before the rape took place...and guess what? Zola turned up dead a week or so later...choked on a steak."

"How the fuck did Tony find that out?" Bucky looked at her.

"Ok, when I say talking to a few friends...I actually mean hacking, but that's not important. I was right, Rumlow didn’t know until that point and ever since he's been using it. Pierce keeps him out of jail but when he's done for robbery he can't…” she tapped at a photo on the board, “because the CCTV footage, everything...it's too much. It would attract attention.”

Steve looked at her, then Bucky before Clint spoke up.

“Yeah, and I've been digging into Rumlow's financials. The guy was destitute. After leaving the police he struggled to find work- was doing the odd bit of security but nothing big, and he couldn't take his pension yet. This was the prosecutions main angle during the robbery case- that he needed the money.”

“The cereal…” Katie mumbled. “Fuck, when I said about the caviar and silver spoons normally being used about making a point, people being rich.”

“He is making the same point, but the other way around.” Steve looked at her and she nodded.

“No posh or fancy silver spoons for me, just mundane cereal. He’s bitter. Bitter he never had the fucking lifestyle that being Pierces kid would have brought him.”

“So he kills Zola…” Bucky looked up “And makes it look like an accident?” Katie bit her lip and something else flashed in her eyes and her mouth dropped open.

“What is it?” Steve looked at her.

“I don’t think he did…”

“The MO…” Bucky started, but she shook her head.

“It’s different. None of the others actually died from choking. They were hit with a hammer, or in Pierce’s case shot.”

“So someone else did Zola…” Bucky looked at her and Steve let out a sigh, the dots connecting in his own mind.

“Pierce.” he said looking at Katie. “Rumlow approaches him with the evidence and he kills Zola to keep his dirty little secret quiet...”

“And then when my dad uncovers all this…he killed him, and mom too.” She shook her head, looking down before she reached for her chair sinking into it “It was Pierce…he killed my parents…I can’t believe it.”

The room fell silent as the 3 men all exchanged a look and Steve turned back to his girl, whose eyes had filled with tears. And at that point, he decided enough was enough.

"Alright, I'm calling it." he said "It's midnight, it's been a long day.” he took a deep breath “Rumlow must have been staying somewhere since he got out of jail. Tomorrow we need to find out where” he turned then to Clint, “We’ll reconvene here at 8 am sharp. Barton, first thing I want you and Nat to follow any lead, no matter how small we got from the house to house. And before you go, get onto Thor...I want all eyes out for Rumlow on the night shift. If they see him, arrest on sight.”

****

Steve, Katie and Bucky all climbed out of Steve’s car in the underground parking lot attached to the apartment block. Steve headed to the trunk and pulled out Katie’s bag, which Bucky noticed was larger than normal meaning she was intending on staying for longer than the night, but he refrained from making any snarky comment. She’d hardly spoken a word all the way home and he couldn’t blame her. Instead he simply observed as Steve reached for her hand which she took and the two of them walked slightly ahead of him to the door that led to the elevators.

They emerged onto the landing and Steve unlocked the door, swinging it open to let Katie in first. Once she was in she took off her jacket, hung it on the coat stand by the door and turned to them both.

“I don’t want to be rude but I’m exhausted. I’m gonna take a shower and get in bed.” Bucky gave her a smile “Don’t blame you Doll Face.”

She managed a roll of her eyes with a smile at the nickname and she moved to take her bag from Steve but he shook his head.

“It’s ok, I’ve got it.” he said and she smiled at him before she turned back to Bucky.

“Night Buck.” “Yeah, see you in the morning.” he said.

Steve followed her down to his room where he deposited her bag on the chair in the corner and she turned to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. The rain was beating against the bedroom window and he glanced outside, his chin resting on the top of her head as he gave a sigh. Looked like this shit weather was in for the night, which was fairly apt really all things considered. Eventually she stepped back and looked up at him and he leaned down pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“Go get sorted.” he said, “I won’t be far behind you. Do you want a drink or anything?” “No, I’m good thanks Stevie.”

He smiled again and then left her to her own devices. When he walked back into the kitchen Bucky was sat at the breakfast bar and slid him an open beer as he dropped onto the stool besides him.

“She ok?” Bucky asked.

“Not really.” Steve sighed

“And what about you?” Bucky looked at him. “You were close to Howard. That’s bound to have been a head fuck.” “You’re not wrong.” Steve sighed “We gotta catch this bastard Bucky. Pierce will never face justice for what he did but Rumlow can.” “And he will.” Bucky said, taking a mouthful of his beer “We’ll find him.”

The two friends sat talking until their beer was finished and at that both decided to call it a night. Steve’s room was dark when he entered, the only light coming from outside street lighting which flooded through the crack in the curtains. He went to pull them shut tightly but Katie stopped him.

“Don’t, I like the light.” He chuckled as he turned to face her “Now we both know you’re not afraid of the dark, Star.” “I know…” she said as he pulled off his Henley, discarding it over her pile of clothes on the chair “I just like it, that’s all.” Once he was down to his boxers he crawled over her, dropping a kiss to her lips “I’ll be 5. Just gonna shower.” “Ok.” she yawned, settling herself down further under the covers.

Steve took the hottest shower he could stand, willing the warmth to wash away the events of the day. His shoulders ached from them being so damned tense and he rolled them slightly, cracking his neck from side to side as the water beat down on him. Once he was done he headed back to his room, towelled off, pulled a clean pair of boxers on and settled down besides Katie. He pulled her to him, her back pressed to his chest as he dropped a soft kiss to her bare shoulder just to the side of the strap of her cami top. They lay silent for a while, the only sound was the rain falling outside, but he could tell she wasn’t asleep from her breathing.

“Remember that trip we took to Camp Lehigh.” Katie broke the silence and Steve took a deep breath.

“How could I forget?” he smiled. And he meant it, that weekend was ingrained in his brain forever. He’d split up with Peggy a few weeks before hand and Katie had split up with Grant a couple of months before that as well. The pair of them had been miserable, basically slumping around her apartment or his, wallowing in their joint grief and pity before Katie had decided they needed to go and do something, something fun. Camp Lehigh had been somewhere that her parents had taken her and Tony every year as kids, an activities camp of sorts, with little cabins and all kinds of sports and activities to do, so on a whim she’d booked them in for the weekend and they’d headed off. It had been great. They’d gone hiking, done the assault courses, paintballing, kayaking, drunk round the campfire with the other people there. In fact, that was where her star necklace had come from, the gift shop. It was a cheap, sterling silver pendant but he’d wanted to say thank you as the weekend had been a balm to his soul. Upon leaving they’d vowed that was it, their lives started over and they moved forward. Which was what they had done, and every spare bit of time they had they’d filled with something fun.

“You made me take the top bunk.” She said, “You were afraid if you took it you’d come falling through and land on me in the middle of the night.”

“Well on the second night we both ended up in the bottom one anyway.” he said, his arm pulling her closer “It was raining, like it is now, and then it thundered and you shit yourself.” “I did not…” she said indignantly, causing him to snort. “Ok, maybe a little…”

They fell silent again, and she shuffled in his arms, turning to face him. “You know, that night when we just lay there and we were talking for hours until you fell asleep…I could feel your heart beating in your chest and I remember asking myself how Peggy could have ever let you go.” Steve looked down at her, brushing her hair back slightly off her face as she continued. “In fact, I think that’s the moment I realised I loved you. I mean, I’d had those feelings for you for a long time but that was the time I finally understood why whenever I was with you I got that safe, happy feeling.” Steve pressed a kiss to her lips, his forehead resting against hers. “We wasted a lot of time Doll.”

“I know.” she sighed. “So stupid when you look back on it isn’t it?” “Well, there’s no point thinking about it now.” he said softly, his hand gently sliding up and down her back “You’re stuck with me forever.” “Promise?”

“Cross my heart Star.” he said, his lips catching hers again in a soft kiss before he grinned. “Even if you are afraid of thunder.” “Piss off…” She chuckled, shoving him gently.

“You know, I always found it odd…how you could be so scared of thunder but quite like a Storm…” he quipped and she let out a groan.

“Again, Steve?”

“Sorry, sorry…” he chuckled, “I know, it’s just…well it was only a week ago tonight that I thought I’d lost you again when you left with him.” “Keep on mentioning him and I just might do it again.” “Uh-uh…” he said, grinning as he rolled her onto her back. “Like I said, you’re stuck with me forever. You’re never leaving.” “Never?” “No.” “What you gonna do? Handcuff me to the bed?” Steve let out a soft groan as she tilted her hips upwards, pushing into his groin “Don’t tempt me Star…” She bit her lip as she looked up at him. “You wanna go all bad cop Captain?”

“Yeah, well, you bring out the absolute worst in me…”

“You love it.” she teased.

“No, I love you. The rest of the shit just comes along.” he mumbled, his lips catching hers again. This kiss this time fevered as her tongue slid into his mouth, tangling with his own. She gave a soft moan which almost died in her throat as she pulled back and looked up at him, her hands tangling in his hair. It took a while for the fog to clear from his lust addled brain, but eventually Steve pulled back, searching her eyes in the dim light of the room.

“Sweetheart, you need sleep…” he said, clearing his throat as his nose brushed up against hers. “After everything that’s happened today, I-“

“I need to forget…” she whispered, cutting him off, her hand cupping his face. “Please, make me forget Stevie…” She whispered into his mouth.

And that was it. Suddenly he was pulling her top over her head, his mouth nipping and sucking at her chest as she writhed and keened underneath him. His hand worked into the waistband of the shorts she was wearing and she gasped as his fingers gently started to tease her, before he upped the pace slightly, and with a flick of his wrist pushed two inside her, curling against that soft spot that he knew would leave her boneless and pliant underneath him.

“I love you…I love you so fucking much…”He said, making her groan again as he continued to work her with his hand. Eventually she couldn’t take it anymore and she wriggled underneath him.

“You want something?” he teased and she raised her head, glowering at him.

“Steve if you don’t fuck me right now I swear to God…” “You’ll do what?” he raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll call Storm…”

“Doll, don’t threaten me…” his voice grew low. She was such a mouthy little shit at times and she knew what buttons to press and when to press them, fucking brat.

“Or what?” she propped herself up on her elbows. Oh he knew exactly what. In a flash he had reached out, and grabbed at her hips, flipping her over so that her front was pressed into the bed covers. She let out a little shriek, followed by a dirty giggle which made his already evident arousal even harder as he crawled over her, nipping at her neck. In seconds he had her moaning again, and grinning to himself he pulled back slightly and she let out a cry of frustration.

“Steve…” she said, her voice pleading. He completely ignored her as he hovered over her, his mouth tracing a line down her spine as she continued to whimper. His lips formed a smirk against her skin and as he reached the dip of her lower back he wriggled out of his boxers and grasped her hips, pulling her ass off the bed. He easily discarded her shorts before he positioned himself behind her, the tip of his aching, rock hard cock simply teasing at her entrance.

“This what you want?” he practically purred and she groaned.

“Yes, Jesus Christ…” In one swift move he was buried to the hilt and she let out a load moan, her face muffled slightly by the pillow.

“Ah, ah Star” he said, as his hand reached out and gripped her shoulder, he pulled her back so she was propped up on her elbows “I wanna hear you…”

Katie bit her lip as he started moving, hard, fast, deep. He could tell that every thrust was rocking her very core and she was putty in his hands within minutes. As his hips snapped back and forth, loud grunts and groans filled the room, mingling with the sound of skin slapping on skin as he continued his ferocious pace, his hand still on her shoulder pulling her back onto him with every pound forward he made. Steve bent over her to nip at Katie’s neck, a little harder than usual, and he spoke into her ear with a growl. "You feel so good. So fucking good.”

"So do you…" she moaned to him as he kept up his relentless pace, and she felt the release creeping up through her belly. “Shit…Captain…” Captain…fuck he loved that! He gave another nip to her neck before he pulled back, looking down at the place they were joined, were he was pumping in and out of her as he continued his salacious assault on her spot. He felt her legs go rigid and she tightened around him, her head tipping back.

“Come for me doll…” he groaned and a loud cry ripped from her throat as her hands fisted around the sheets and her entire body shook. Unable to control herself she collapsed and in a flash Steve curled his arm around her waist, he’d never let her fall. A few short thrusts and he was done, the entire world around him tilted on its axis as he spilled himself inside of her with a low growl, before he collapsed forward, letting her down as gently as he could, finally face planting onto the bed, sweating and spent besides her. Neither of them moved for a moment, the only sounds that could now be heard was deep breathing from both of them as they came down from their high, fighting for composure. Eventually Steve felt Katie move and he turned his head lazily to the right to see she was led on her stomach, her head turned towards him, and at the sight of her looking utterly wrecked thanks to him, he couldn’t help the smug grin spreading across his face.

“I kinda like Bad Cop.” She mumbled and he laughed, reaching out to brush her hair behind her ear before he pulled her face towards his for a soft, gentle kiss.

********

Steve's eyelids were heavy the following morning and he struggled to open his eyes before rubbing them and giving a yawn. His bladder was full but his mind wandered to the events the previous day, exhausting as they had been, which had led to a no less exhausting, albeit for better reasons, night. He smiled as he turned around to reach for Katie only to find the left side of his bed empty. He ran a hand over the vacated space and sighed at the cold touch.

After the customary visit to the bathroom and putting on a t-shirt, Steve went out of his bedroom and headed for the kitchen, following the clattering sounds of breakfast getting ready as if he was following the Pied Piper. When he reached the kitchen door the smell of something just baked mixed with the delicious scent of freshly brewed coffee hit his nostrils.

But something even more delicious caught his sight. Just as he had predicted Katie was already up, making breakfast. She was wearing one of his Henley shirts over her lacy panties and nothing more. He was sure. He had spotted Katie's bra discarded over the back of the chair with the rest of her clothes from the previous night before heading out. Steve felt something stir inside his boxer briefs at the sight of his shirt covering the curve of his girl's ass and how it hung over the upper part of her thighs. Fortunately, he had decided as a last minute decision to put on a pair of pyjama pants.

He couldn't deny the sight of Katie, in his clothes, making breakfast in his kitchen like she just belonged, made his chest burst with happiness. To the point that he let out a contented sigh from where he was leaning on the kitchen's door frame.

It was then that Bucky, who was sitting at the breakfast bar eating his plums, noticed his presence and turned around. He saw his friend, and observed the way he was staring at Katie and mouthed Pervert at him.  Steve just smiled and said "Morning." At that Katie turned to greet him back and Steve instantly saw the stains on her cheeks. She had been crying. He gave her a concerned look before turning to look at Bucky who didn't need any words to understand what he was expected to do.

"Erm, I'm gonna get ready." he said as he just sat up before nodding at Steve as he left the kitchen giving them some space.

Steve then crossed the floor of the room towards her and Katie simply leaned into him, wrapping her arms round his wide back. Her face pressed into his T-shirt, inhaling his scent. He didn't say anything. He just rubbed his girl's back as he thought he could get used to her being there in his arms every morning, before stepping back and wiping her face with his finger pads.

"Sweetheart, how much sleep did you get?" he asked her softly.

"Few hours." she shrugged. "I just couldn't stop thinking about mum and dad... and how Tony needs to know we're pretty sure Pierce did it and..."

Steve sensed her beginning to spiral and decided to take the matter in his hands.

"Shhhhh...Star, just breathe... let me help you with this ok? We'll go to the station, check on the status of the search for Rumlow and then we'll go speak to Tony." he cooed, hugging her against his chest again.

Katie nodded and Steve, satisfied with how things were turning out, tried again with another distraction.

"What were you cooking?" he asked nodding towards the stove.

"I did cinnamon buns, your Ma's recipe...and was just whipping up some eggs and bacon." she answered as she resumed her position in front of the bowls and pans that were scattered over the kitchen counter.

Steve realised then she had to have been up for hours if she had managed cinnamon buns as whenever she made those, she usually got them ready the night before to bake in the morning.  He shook his head in a disapproving gesture before approaching her again, hugging her from behind this time, and kissing her head.

"Ok Doll, let's get those ready and we can eat." he suggested.

"I'm not that hungry..." Katie began to explain.

"That wasn't a request. You're already sleep deprived. I don't want you fainting because you haven't eaten." Steve stated, nearly ordered, going into concerned Captain mode.

She saw Katie smile, instead of getting all pissy at his commanding tone of voice, and bite her lip.

"What?" he asked.

"You'll make a great husband one day..." she said with a simile that reached her eyes.

And just like that Steve was brought back to his ma's banter about the ring and the proposal for the second time in less than 24 hours.  And not only that. Fucking hell! It hadn't even been a week since they had got back together. What day was today anyway? Friday? Just the previous Friday he was moping around and getting dragged to the Compound in a stormy, you could say, turn of events. But then again, as everyone liked to point out lately, they went back to 10 years before any of this. Everything they've done...it really was like they had dated but without the physical side. How the fuck did he not see what was right in front of his damned eyes for all that time? Coz you're a stupid, punk. His little inner voice answered for him, a voice which was annoyingly similar to Bucky's. But back to the husband thing....

"Well, as long as it's your husband Doll..." Steve said as he felt his cheeks flush.

Katie stopped what she was doing to look at him and simply smiled again, that damned smile that got him weak, before giving him a gentle kiss.

He then grabbed a tea towel from the breakfast bar and threw it over his shoulder to start helping Katie.  He was loving the domesticity. How she directed him around as if they were a pair of newly- weds getting breakfast ready on a lazy Sunday morning. Again those marriage thoughts but he didn't mind as he helped her with the food before shoving more coffee on. And then their domestic bliss was broken by a piercing sound.

"Can I come back in now? I'm starving!" Bucky shouted from somewhere in the living room.

"Jerk." Steve yelled back.

"Smells good, doll face" Bucky said when he appeared in the kitchen a few seconds later.

"That fucking name!" Katie said, throwing a spoon at him.

"You know? I still remember the first time I called you that and you got mad." Bucky grinned catching said spoon expertly in his right hand.

"I hated you back then." Katie retorted as she whipped the eggs.

"You didn't doll face. You loved me. And HIM." Bucky said gesturing to Steve.  "Even though you pretended otherwise." he shrugged before biting another plum.

Steve then saw Katie stop what she was doing and slowly turn to look at his friend with narrowed eyes. There she is, he thought, his face cracking into a grin at the dirty look she was shooting his best friend.

"Piss off Barnes."

Bucky laughed before looking at Steve. "Steve tell her how you were mad at me coz you thought I was hitting on her."

"No...that's...I never said that..." Steve tried to protest as he looked from Bucky to Katie.

"Oh you absolutely did." Bucky said nodding exaggeratedly.

"Seriously Steve...you can't lie for shit." Katie said after watching him for a couple of seconds, a smile playing on her face.

"Remember when they all gave you the slip and I bought you lunch?" Bucky asked Katie. “Well apparently I did that because I wanted to bone you…” At that Katie let out a huge laugh and Steve sighed, shaking his head.

"Ok, maybe I was a little paranoid..."

"Yes, paranoically in love...." Bucky quipped.

"Do you wanna eat this breakfast or wear it, jerk?" Steve said with feigned indignation. Well, maybe not so feigned. Although it was true, he didn't like being exposed like that. Not that Katie didn't know how he had felt about her, though.

Katie chuckled and shook her head as she started to plate up breakfast.

Bucky then shot Steve a wink, to which the captain mouthed Thank you. He really appreciated his friend's efforts to keep her distracted from her thoughts again. Even though Bucky could be like an annoying little brother at times, Steve felt the dynamic the three of them had set was remarkably good. True Katie and Bucky had hit it off from the beginning, despite their constant bickering, but the addition of Bucky to the equation that was his and Katie's budding relationship was flawless. Mind you, he could be a teasing jerk sometimes, and there was no way he didn't hear them the previous night the way they were going at it but he hadn't passed any comment. Not yet, at least.

They headed for the station without further ado that morning. There was so much to do, so many phone calls to make, so many reports and evidence to go through once more, now the case had taken a much needed, though unexpected, turn. They had no time to waste and they were also eager to know if the search on Rumlow had thrown any light.

So Steve pulled the car into the station's parking lot after a quick stop to grab their usual morning coffee treat, seeing as it was his turn to buy and Bucky wasn't willing to let it go. No matter how busy they were, no matter what the circumstances were. Steve wondered what was with Bucky and just eating plums for breakfast first thing in the morning and not having his dose of caffeine until much later through the day. Unless he was hungover that is, which was happening a lot quite recently.

When the three of them entered the station's main office they were met with a face they weren't expecting. Sure, they didn't expect to find Wanda but her replacement had arrived fast and might have caused a stir in the organization of another precinct.

"Gina! Oh my god..." Katie squealed, approaching the woman with her arms open.

"What are you doing here? Not that I don't want you here but are you Wanda's replacement?" Steve asked, trying to understand.

"Kinda... I'm gonna be doing 2 days here, 3 at the 99 until Fury finds someone." Gina explained as she stepped back from Katie’s embrace.

"Fury didn't tell me he was calling you in." Steve frowned.

"Well, there's a lot of things he doesn't tell people." Gina shrugged, as if she hung out with Fury on a daily basis.

Steve went quiet and looked at Katie, who was unsuccessfully trying not to laugh. His own mouth was quirking as well when he turned around to look at Bucky who had an expression of utter whatthefuckness, if that was even a word, all over his face. But Gina didn't seem to be bothered in the slightest, as she continued sharpening the pencils Wanda had left in the pencil pot at the reception desk before asking. "What did you do to Maximoff."

"I didn't do anything to her, she quit." Steve informed, yet a bit offended.

"Ah, maybe that's why she resigned... Anyway Captain, your post is on your desk and I sent pretty eyes out for a Danish." Gina said, turning into assistant mode.

"Who's pretty eyes?" Bucky asked.

He had met the woman twice, once when he had been at the 99 with Katie to fetch Rumlow's case files and the other a week or so ago on the night out. He remembered clearly on their trip to the 99 Station, she had been teaching Holt how to trash talk. Frankly, the woman was something else.

"Clint..." Katie said, smiling as she sat down on her chair and switched her computer on.

"Is he married?" Gina asked nonchalantly.

The three of them then paused and looked at one another. They didn't know what to say because, truth be told, they hadn’t got a clue.

"I dunno actually, ask Romanoff..." Katie was the first to speak.

"She's kinda scary..." Gina trailed.

"No more than Diaz." Katie quipped, winking an eye at her.

"Yeah, ok, fair point. Anyway I'd love to chat all day but I got stuff to do so stop distracting me." Gina shrugged and started to sort some post on Romanoff's and Barton's desks.

Steve frowned and opened his mouth to say something to the woman but he was utterly lost for words. If whatthefuckness really wasn’t a term then someone needed to add it to the dictionary because that was the only thing that came to his mind right then. So he closed his mouth again and looked at Katie, who again was trying not to laugh.

He was so lost for words to express what he had just experienced that he didn't think too much of it when he dropped a kiss to Katie's cheek who looked up at him surprised.

"Oh... Ok... Finally." Gina said casually before heading back to her desk.

Steve then went bright red at the realization of what he had just done. That was not what he was supposed to be doing in the office he thought as he headed for his office door in a rush, cursing internally, without glancing in Bucky's direction. He didn't need to look at him to know he would be grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Thank God, Clint and Nat were nowhere to be seen.

Speaking of the devils, just as Steve was closing the door of his office he saw Clint walk in with Natasha with a brown paper bag, presumably from the deli round the corner. He could hear the banter the two detectives were having with Gina as he took off his jacket hung it over his chair's back.

He ignored the muffled sounds that came from the main office and decided to have a look at his post. He picked up a few letters and went through them. It seemed to be just the normal internal memos and stuff. There was also a note from Fury to say Gina would be starting. No shit Sherlock, he thought.

He then noticed one manila envelope that was a bit larger than normal. He frowned as he opened it to discover it was a box of special K cereal. He instantly dropped it and stood up giving a very loud “Fuck!”

Steve could hear the sound of chairs being dragged and concerned words he could not fully understand in the main office before his office door was slammed open and everyone headed inside, Katie leading them. But they all stopped on their tracks as they spotted the cereal box on his desk.

"Shit, he hasn’t finished...” Katie looked at it, as she glanced at Steve “Special K... SK...Fuck Steve, he's going for Sarah Klein." Katie stuttered, but still managed to get her thoughts expressed.

Steve blinked at the cereal box just as Katie's words sank in and instantly went into Cap mode.

"Buck, get onto Interpol. We need to inform the German Authorities, warn them. Barton and Romanoff I want everyone looking for Rumlow right now. Get Thor to step up patrols. He has to have been staying somewhere, so find him." he called it, nearly barked.

"I'll grab an evidence bag, get that to Tony." Katie offered.

"Doll, you don't have to do that, I can send someone from patrol..." Steve trailed, his voice softening.

"Did he just say doll?" Clint asked Nat, quirking up his eyebrow.

"Loud and present." she answered.  

"I can do that, Steve." Katie said, ignoring Bucky's smirk as he had overheard Clint and Nat too.

"I’ll go with you, I said I would..." Steve insisted, but she cut him off.

"No, it's fine. I want to talk to him about what we found yesterday and think its best I do that alone. And besides, you're needed here."

"Ok, get to it. I'll call Fury, keep him updated." he said after a moment’s hesitation, nodding.

And that was the cue for everybody to retreat to the main office and start working on their Captain's orders. There was no time to waste. Steve grabbed his phone and was about to dial Fury's extension number when he noticed Bucky hadn't left his office and was smiling at him.

"What?" he asked, placing the phone on his desk again.

"So, before you kissed her cheek, and now you called her Doll in front of everyone." Bucky said, slumping on one of the chairs in front of Steve's desk.

Steve groaned and blushed again before asking “Did I? Fuck... It came out naturally, I didn't mean to..."

"Don't worry, Pal." Bucky said, waving whatever embarrassing thoughts Steve might be getting with a movement of his hand.

"I should control it though, Fury..." Steve said, ignoring his comment.

"Steve, Fury is on your side. Otherwise Katie would be cleaning toilets at Police Plaza instead of being here." Bucky tried to calm him.

But he remarked the last word and Steve got what he was trying to say. It was Saturday. Officially Katie should be off the case, but here she was working on it despite Fury’s orders. Mind you, Fury had been there yesterday when she had basically cracked it and had also, albeit maybe not expressly, given Steve the permission to keep her involved on an unofficial basis…but he would be damned if he abiding by the official orders and benching her now. And he was willing to bet no one in the station would go and tell Fury. With Wanda out of the picture, they were a perfectly assembled team again, watching each other's six.

Steve smiled at him and Bucky stood up and turned to go just as Katie came back with an evidence bag and gloves. He watched as she methodically put the box in the evidence bag and looked at him, nodding.

"Ok, I'll call you in a bit." she said.

"Ok..." Steve nodded and smiled at her. Then he checked around and decided this time it was safe, no eavesdroppers or unwanted witnesses, before saying "Love you. Try not to worry."

"I will and love you too..." she said back before heading off, nodding to Thor who was passing her.

"You're in a rush little Stark?" he asked.

"Gotta get this down to the lab. Talk to you in a bit..." she nodded.

"This is taller and stronger, is he married?" Bucky heard Gina asking Nat.

For the following hour and half everyone was doing what they had been told to as if doing it was second nature to them. The bullring was like a busy marketplace, full of people talking. Thor was helping Nat organize a sting whilst Clint was on the phone talking to some contacts, all of whom seemed to be some sort of former spies if you asked Bucky based on the odd bits of conversation he could get from his desk, trying to trace Rumlow and emailing his photo left, right and centre. Bucky was focused on getting onto Interpol, Rumlow's photo was already at all major airports, but they have to alert the Munich Police force to take Sarah Klein into protective custody.

Gina was assisting them all in whatever phone number or data they might need while screening calls according to importance or relevance to the priority case and taking messages for all of them and Bucky had to give the woman credit, she was doing it well.

At some point Bucky saw Gina stand up from her desk and beeline to Nat's desk where Thor was perched revising some notes on the police operative for the sting.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she said looking at the tall blonde as she pointed in the direction of the kitchen with her right thumb. "Maybe tea?" she insisted, seeing Thor was looking at her wondering who the woman was.

"I don't drink tea." he stated plainly.

"What do you drink?" Gina asked again, now curious about the man.

"Not tea." he stated again as if it was obvious.

Bucky chuckled as he saw Gina look at Thor as if he was some kind of mixture between an alien from another planet and a God, and just as she shrugged and moved to head for the kitchen she nodded at the photos of cereal brands that Natasha was shoving back into a file.

"By the way, what's with the cereal?" she asked.

Natasha then started to explain but soon Thor cut her off and started rambling about how every victim had a different make of cereal shoved down their throats once they were dead. There had been Puffed Rice, Jump Start, Juicy Skulls and finally Apple Puffs.

"God, that's so unimaginative. It should be a cereal that represents the person..." Gina spoke her mind.

"It did." Bucky explained. "It was their initials."

"No. I mean like their personalities..." she said before elaborating on her idea. "So, I would be something sophisticated, like a Granola."

Bucky, Thor and Natasha looked at her, finding it hard to believe what she had just said and Clint snorted as he lifted his eyes from the screen of his computer. At that point Steve walked out about to ask for an update when Gina continued her charade.

"And Captain Hottie Rogers here would be Cap'n Crunch" she said with a flourish of her hand and a wide grin, proud of her own joke.

"What are you talking about?" Steve asked her. "What is she talking about?" he asked again, looking at Natasha this time.

"She's just critiquing the Cereal Serial Killer's choice of breakfast snack." the detective said, smiling slightly.

Steve took a deep breath, reminding himself she wouldn't be here for long, before speaking. "Ok, can we focus, please? Thor, report on your troops."

"The gates of hell are filled with..."

Steve stopped listening to Thor, who seemed to have been infected by Gina's nonsense rambling, as from the corner of his eye he saw Clint whisper something to Nat, who snorted. Steve then glared at her. He had too much on his plate right now as it was and they were starting to give him a headache with their shenanigans and high-school whispers.

"Care to share with the rest of the team?" he asked Clint, sternly.

"Sorry, Cap. It…it was a bad joke." Clint apologized.

"Well, it was clearly amusing so let's hear it." Steve insisted.

Clint looked at Bucky, who nodded discreetly at him. Steve had used his Captain voice, he was pissed off. You'd better answer him, pal.

"I just reminded Nat of a joke we used to make... how Katie would be your Special K, that's all, was just a..." Clint explained. “We code named our matchmaking plan Operation Cap’n Crunch and Special K…you know, it…”

"Ha, that's amusing." Thor's laugh echoed throughout the main office, earning an appreciative look from Gina. "Cap'n Crunch and Special K..." he added, shaking his head.

But instead of laughing at the lame joke a cold feeling washed over Steve as the lightbulb suddenly lit up in his head. "Shit."

"Sorry..." Thor trailed, starting an apology.

But Steve wasn't listening to him, his eyes darted at Bucky instead whose mouth had dropped open.

"It's not Sarah Klein..." Bucky mumbled, looking at his friend.

Steve pulled out his phone and pressed the call button. Bucky saw his hand tremble as he brought the device to his ear and yelled "Buck, call Tony. Check if Katie is there. Hurry!"

Clint and Nat shared an understanding and concerned glance just before Gina asked "What's going on?"

Natasha looked at her and swallowed before answering. "Special K...it's Katie Stark... not Sarah Klein."

"Steve..." Bucky's voice which was slightly shaky attracted all the attention just as Steve looked at him. "Tony says Katie hasn't been to the lab..."

"Fuck!" Steve hollered. "Son of a bitch!" he swore again, kicking a chair before turning and starting barking orders, going on full Captain mode like they had never seen him before.

"Natasha, get the CCTV up from the parking lot." he ordered before pointing at Clint "If she left in her car, get on to traffic, pull up any cameras on the way to the lab, see if they track her plate."

Next he pointed at Thor, then Bucky "You, you with me now, we'll take a patrol car and run the route to the lab..."

There was a flurry of movement in the office as everyone jumped to it. Steve, Bucky and Thor literally ran from the office as soon as Steve had grabbed his jacket. He was trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, but his breakfast wasn't willing to cooperate.

[orangeoctopi7]

A Nostalgia Trip

: Chapter 1 : Chapter 2 : Chapter 3 :

The end of the school day finally rolled around, and the twins met up at the STNLYMBL. Stan's bag was noticeably heavier and bulkier than it had been this morning. 

“Take a look through there and make sure I got everything you need.” Stan said as he handed his pack over to Ford.

The scientist pulled out three different sized spools of copper/nickel solder, and a thin, almost needle-like soldering iron.

“And these are the smallest spools they had?”

“Smallest I could find.”

Ford sighed. “I shouldn’t be surprised, it’s an auto-shop in a high school. I’ll make it work.”

It was an unusually warm day for January, and they drove home in the melting slush. “Wait, stop here!” Ford commanded as they passed the beach. “I’m going to need fine sand for molding.”

Stan pulled into a nearby parking lot. Luckily he had a shovel in the trunk of his car, although he couldn’t remember why, and they found an empty paint can in a nearby dumpster they could use as a bucket.

Ford strode purposefully down to the edge of the surf, where the finest sand would be, when a dark shape at the corner of his eye caught his attention.

"Oh…" he breathed when he turned and saw several tarps that concealed what they were protecting from the wind and snow. He knew exactly what was underneath.

Stan came to a stop beside him, eyes locked on the same tarp-covered shape sitting just far enough up the beach that no waves reached it. They stood there in silence for a solid minute, their errand to collect sand completely forgotten.

"Great…" Stan finally spoke, reaching up and wiping his eyes with the back of his coat sleeve. "Guess it's my turn to get hijacked by hormones."

"Do… do you want to go give her a look over?" Ford asked hesitantly, "For old time's sake?"

Stan just nodded mutely.

They two of them strode solemnly to the tarp and gently removed the layers, revealing the almost-completed Stan’o’war underneath. It was so much smaller than either of them remembered, not even half the size of the repurposed tugboat they’d turned into the Stan’o’war II. The little schooner was just big enough to hold two teenage boys who had reached their full height, but not their full girth. 

Stan reached down and picked up the neatly folded sail sitting at the base of the mast. They’d originally just used some old bedsheets they had ‘rescued’ from the trash, but after doing some research and tests, Ford had found the soft, thin fabric wouldn’t hold up under the strain of a sail. So, over the past three years, they had been hunting down and saving every scrap of sturdy canvas they could find. Stan’d had to carefully stitch them together. That was when he’d first learned how to sew, a skill that had come in handy when he was living on the road, and when cobbling things together for the Mystery Shack.

Ford was appreciating the worn wood of the mast. When they’d first found the wrecked hull as children, most of the structure had rotted out, and they’d had to find a way to replace and attach new wood to the old planks and boards. He had researched old ship-building techniques, and learned a lot about woodworking along the way. He remembered using those woodworking techniques a lot later in life, to make repairs to his research cabin that would later become the Mystery Shack, and to build shelter, transportation, and weapons as he traveled the multiverse.

“D-d’you know what happened to her?” Stan eventually asked, pulling them out of their thoughts.

“...I’m not quite sure.” Ford admitted. “I know mom kept it because Shermie liked to play on it when he was little, but I didn’t ever go home after I got my degree, so… I don’t know what happened after he grew up.”

“Hmm.” Stan grunted in reply. He wasn’t sure what to feel about that. Should they call Shermie once they were out of this, and ask him what happened to it? Or was Stan better off not knowing?

The two of them stood in a pensive silence, taking in this unexpected opportunity to see their old childhood project one more time. They probably could have stayed there all evening, reminiscing and appreciating the hard work they’d put into the schooner, but it was winter, and the sun went down early in the afternoon. As the sun dropped, so did the temperatures.

“Come on, we’d better get that fine sand before we completely lose the light.” Ford finally said, pulling himself away.

* * *

Once they returned home, Ford traced out tiny circuit lines in the sand with a toothpick he'd filed to a fine point. He then melted the solder spool into the miniscule mold. 

"Ok, that will need to set all night, then I'll have to pick out all the sand grains and file down all the points and areas where it's leaked out of the mold."

"And how long will that take?" Stan asked.

"As long as I don't break it while I'm filing, another day."

"And if you do break it while filing?"

"Then I'll have to start over again and melt a new circuit into the mold. If I had a smaller soldering iron, I could just piece it back together, but this one is too big and clumsy."

"So what I'm hearing is we're not gettin' back to our own time before my boxing match with Crampelter tomorrow."

"Probably not."

"Heh, looks like I get to pound that bully's face in one more time."

Ford turned away from his work desk. "I almost wish we could switch places for that."

"It's not worth the hassle." Stan shook his head. "Besides, I dunno if I have the heart to do that again after… y'know, last time."

"I did say almost." 

They shared a small chuckle, and Ford started climbing up to the top bunk.

“Kinda early for bed. Especially for you.”

“I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Yeah, me either.”

“And I didn’t bounce back from it nearly as well as I thought I would.”

“Guess all that junk they say about teenagers needin’ more sleep is true.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

* * *

Going to bed earlier seemed to have helped Ford’s mood, come morning. He wasn’t nearly as groggy and grumpy as he had been yesterday. He still insisted that Stan stop by the doughnut shop on the boardwalk for coffee on the way to school, but he at least had the good sense to swipe enough coins out of the change jar at home to pay for it himself.

Stan, for his part, seemed a little more confident going into school today. Perhaps it was because he was looking forward to the boxing match tonight. It was something familiar, something he and everyone else knew he was good at. 

It was another day of trying to lay low. Another day of coasting through classes. No one seemed suspicious of them. No one seemed to notice how Stan was actually answering questions in their math and science classes. No one seemed to notice that Ford actually managed to climb all the way to the top of the rope in PE. Stan wondered about it out loud to his brother at lunch.

“I believe it’s the timeline resisting change.” Ford mused quietly. “We know changing the greater flow of time is difficult, even when someone is actively attempting to change the past. So far, we’ve been going out of our way to keep things more-or-less the same, so perhaps the time stream just… diverts their attention elsewhere. It makes me wonder: what kind of enormous act would it take to make people notice? To actually alter the flow of time?”

“Ford, we’re not gonna test that theory.” 

“No, of course not. Not on this trip at least.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “I’d prefer not on any trip, but honestly I’d be worried there was something wrong with you if you didn’t say something like that.”

[frankly-art]

There's no better way for me to surmount art block than by drawing pretty centaurs and, well, add @ross.jpg to the growing list of beautiful boys I've taurified in order to pull myself out of a creative slump. I definitely wanted to go a different direction with this than my usual works, one decidedly more stylized (check under the cut to see how my first swing at this concept was turning out, but it just... wasn't what I saw in my head, you know?). It was a really fun style to work in, so who knows—maybe you'll see more stuff like this in the future? Maybe. Also, blame my gratuitous Russian on the fact that I've been stanning Max Barskih pretty hard these past few days... him... pretty.

You know, the real meta-irony of this piece is that my muse's username this time around is @ross.jpg, but all of these files were saved as .png's...

Support me on Ko-Fi and RedBubble!

ArtStation | Instagram | deivantArt

[thepinkwriterr]

Lurking In Derry // Richie Tozier Chapter Six

Richie laid beside me, his chest rises up and down quickly as tried to regain his normal breathing. "One down, 13 more." He smirked. "Everyday? Well," I smirked over at him,"Get ready Tozier, I'm holding you to that." We laughed.

There was a harsh knocking on the door,"Mac!" I panicked, but remembered I had the door locked. "Hold on!" I yelled. I jumped up, throwing on my shorts and the first shirt I found.

I cracked the door open, sticking my head out. "Yeah?" "We have to g-get ready! The p-p-party's in an hour!" He yelled frantically. "Bill, I think I'm just gonna stay up here. I feel terrible." "O-oh okay. I-Is that r-r-r-richie's shirt?" He asked.

"Uh, yeah, I needed one in gym class so he gave me his." "W-wasn't he w-w-wearing it?" I shook my head, hoping he would just leave and not question it. "C-can I ask you s-suh-something?" He asked seriously.

I nodded, stepping out of the room, closing the door behind me. "D-d-does Richie have a cuh-crush on you?" "No, Bill, we're just best friends." "Okay." He nods, making his way down the stairs quickly.

Sighing in relief, I go back to my room. "Goddamn, is he Scooby-Doo?" Richie asks, sitting on the edge of my bed, wearing just his jeans. I laugh, bending over to pick up my shirt. I go to take his off, but he stops me. "I like it. Keep it on." He smiles. I smile back.

"You have to pee after sex, remember? You're gonna get a UTI." I groaned, throwing my head back. "Leave me alone!" He cracks a smile and laughs. "You shouldn't have given me that Womens health book." He shrugged.

"What book?" I asked, furrowing my brows and squinting my eyes in confusion. "Oh, wait, maybe that was Bev..." I laughed, hitting him with my pillow. "Rude!" I laughed. "Go!" He nudged me,"You've gotta be healthy!"

I sighed, going to the door. "Please, lock it, idiot." I laughed as I shut the door. I went down the stairs and into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of Bill. I took a double take and saw...Bev?

Beverly was lying on the table on her back, her legs around Bill's waist. They were making out. My eyes widened, and I ran back up stairs as quietly as possible.

"Wow, that was q-" Richie started. "Bill and Beverly are making out on my kitchen table..." "Get it Bill!" Richie laughed. "That's disgusting." I grimaced. "What we just did wasn't very cleanly either." Richie raised a dark brow.

-

Sex and Candy blared from the stereo downstairs, people's boisterous voices crowding the music. "I didn't know Bill could throw an interesting party. I always thought you were brains in that operation." Richie groaned as he fell back into my bed.

"I was. This party is Bev's doings." I fell next to him. "I can't wait for them all to to leave..." I sighed. "Me too. Then we can sneak downstairs and eat peanut butter from the jar." I giggled at his stupid joke.

Knocking sounded at my door, forcing a groan from my thought. I unlocked and swung the door open to see Stan. "What do you want?" He smirked,"So you are with Richie." I rolled my eyes,"What about it?" He shrugs.

"What the hell do you want Stanley?" Richie asks, sitting up. "Just wanted to see what the lovebirds were up to." He smirks and walks from the doorway. I sigh, leaning against the wall.

-

It was 3 AM, and some of the noise had died down. Richie and I decided we should at least come down and have a little fun.

"Hey Val" Beverly smiled. Bill looked guilty. "Hey guys." "Richie,"  Stan smirked. I rolled my eyes. "I swear..." Richie whispered. I looked at Richie, telling him to calm down. He sighed as Stan smirked again.

"The puh-party's almost over. Where were y-you guys?" Bill asked quietly.

Richie stayed silent, panic flooding his body. "We studied for Physics. That big test is coming up." I simply stated.

"Isn't that in like three weeks?" Stan mused. I shrugged.

"Anyway, you guys have fun." Beverly smiled, walking off with Bill in tow.

"I'm gonna go grab a drink. No funny business, you two." Stan smirked, going to the drink table in the back.

Richie let out a deep sigh of relief. "Fuckin Stan..." He grumbled. "Hey," I grabbed his arm,"He's just being a dick. Let's go dance." I smirked as I got a girl by Tripping Daises played.

Richie and I danced disgustingly against each other as the grotesque tune carried on. "I've got a girl... and she's gotta guy." The singer whinned as the song came to a close.

-

The party seemed to drag on forever, and Richie and I were over it.

After the noise died down and people filed out, we stood in a small group.

The losers and our new friends Ayla and Jack were standing with us.

"Waffle house?" Bev asked. Beverly Marsh, I hate you. "Sure." Everyone nodded in agreement. Jesus, does this night ever end?

"I think we're gonna stay behind." I stated, pointing to Richie. "Yeah, it's pretty late." Richie yawned.

"Come on guys, don't be lame!" Stan poked. Fuck. You. Stanley Uris. "Okay." I shrugged, worried they would find us out if we pretsted.

"Great! Let's go fuckers." Richie played up excitement too well. "Jack and I will drive." Ayla smiled.

Great, now I get to sit and listen to Stan pretend he's gonna tell people about my secret boyfriend.

The manager looked mortified as ten rowdy teens piled into two tables.

Our waitress reluctantly took our orders, penciling in our ridiculous requests.

The two tables consisted of three chairs on one side, and two on the other.

Richie and I sat at the second table facing Ayla, Bill and Bev. Staring across to the first table I saw Ben, Stan, and Mike. Across from them were Eddie and Jack.

Under the table, Richie grasped my lithe pale hands. I smiled at him lightly.

"And here you are." The waitress smiled sleepily at us, weary as she sat waffles and hash browns on the table.

She brought the other table their food shortly after. "Is there anythin' I can get either of your tables?" She asked politely.

"You only gave us one straw." Richie spoke up, looking from me to the waitress.

"Just share it!" Stan yelled brazenly. I shot him a killer glare. If I could kick him under the table, I would.

"That's disgusting." I answered stalely. I'm so sick of pretending to hate Richie. And Stan's jokes are so old. He can't hold this over our heads forever.

"Here." The woman, who's nametag read Bethany, dug a wrapped straw out of her navy blue apron pocket.

I thanked her, unwrapping the plastic tube and plunging it into my sprite forcefully.

[theharlequinofhate]

CLINICAL

part 1-

Dry, brittle blonde hair hung in his view. No, not fully blonde, if he squinted his eyes enough and if it was the right lighting, he could almost make out a green tint. The shampoo they let him use was so chalked full of chemicals it quickly stripped out dye, and left his already damaged hair worst. Sure if he had some nice conditioner of something then it wouldn’t be so bad, but what else could one expect from the crazy house that is Arkham Asylum.

The fact he got shampoo AND enough shower time to actually wash his hair was a miracle.

“Patient #4479?”

The cold water wasn’t even an issue for him, the dye boxes he ‘acquired’ always said that cool water was best for a more ‘Even application.’

“Patient #4479, can you hear me?”

He shook his hair a bit, watching as the overhead fluorescent light hit a few of his locks. Maybe if he asked nicely they would dye his hair for him. A sudden involuntary jerk brought him out of his vainish musings.

Looking to his left he sees one of the 3 guards stationed around him step back. He must of kicked his chair.

“Patient #4479?”

Oh thats’ right, he was in therapy.

“Oops?”

The doctor before him suddenly pulled a face, almost like he just bit into something that tasted foul. Really was a facial expression that he was used to, at least since he’s been incarcerated. Most of the ones he saw before that were QUITE different.

“As I was saying, I’m Dr. Charles Markus, and I will be taking over your treatments from this day forward.”

The corner of his lips twitched upward into a smile. “New doctor? What about Danny?”

He saw Charles falter slightly at his question, and turn to glance at one of the guards in confusion. This only caused his smile to widen, he could feel the way the skin pulled unnaturally around his mouth.

“You don’t remember?” Charles was now reaching for the manila folder that was placed between them. Probably his medical records.

“Remember What?” He cocked his head to the side, trying to come off as ‘innocent’. But from the way the rookie guard to his right twitched, that was probably a failure.

Charles had opened the file and was skimming it over quickly. “ Patient was administered 400mg of Haloperidol after showing signs of a manic episode.” Charles stopped reading and looked back up to him, the man’s dull brown eyes stared into his green ones with disbelief. “You were informed of Dr.Douglas’s passing, and that I would be taking over in his place.”

He gasped in shock, but even a blind man would have been able to tell he was faking it. “Danny’s dead?!”

Charles glared now, his new doctor wasn’t buying his story of amnesia anymore. “You laughed for 45 minutes straight until a team came to prescribe you a sedative.”

He didn’t bother with pretending anymore, game was over anyway. Shaking his hair out of his face, he stared at Charles full on now, his infamous glasgow smile in place. “ I was upset.”

His new doctor shook his head and leaned forward in his chair. “ Upset? You laughed?!”

He shrugged his shoulders and stretched. His chains rattling with his movements. Twitchy guard to his right made a motion towards his gun, but stopped. So jumpy.

“You know what they say, Laughter is the best medicine.”

He saw Charles slowly shake his head. “And besides...I never would have thought Old Danny boy actually had the guts to pull the trigger. “ a giggle suddenly escapes him. “ I mean come on! A triple homicide and a suicide?! Looks like I owe Billy my pudding cups for the next month!

He couldn’t help himself now and broke down into a laughing fit.

“Get him out of here. We’re done.” Charles sat back in his chair defeated and turns away.

“Call it in Stanford.” The jumpy rookie guard from earlier jerked to attention and pulled out his radio. “Preparing to Transfer The Joker”

The bigger of the two guards paused in unbolting Joker’s chains from the chair and floor to reprimand the rookie for his mistake, it was a big no no to use criminal alises. This only caused the fit of laughter to start again.

“Don’t be so hard on the new kid Cash.”

“Shut it Clown!”

Joker giggled but said nothing, instead he followed along. Allowing Cash to jerk him roughly from the chair and to a standing position. While Cash held him in place, the 3rd guard made sure that his 3 point harness was secure. Wrist. Hips and Ankles.

“Okay ready to move out, sound alarm.”

He saw Cash motion to skittish Stan and the kid opened the door.

“Toodle loo doc..” Joker waved his fingers as best he could to the back of the chair, which still held the slumped form of his new doctor.

Carefully he shuffled form the chair, and out of the room, the cuffs on his ankles restricted his movement, so traveling by foot was slow, but anything was better than that hannibal lecter gurney they strapped him to the first few weeks he was here.

Out in the halls, he noticed how quiet it was, as was the norm for Max Security level 3 patients transfers. Blue siren lights were placed throughout the ceiling of the hallway, every MS3 transfer had the blue lights on and flash along the ceilings, and all activity in the halls would cease and they were to stand flush against the wall. The system was complete overkill, but annoyingly effective.

Rolling his eyes, Joker continues his awkward shuffling behind Cash who was leading the pack, with 2 guards stationed at his side. It was like a bad formation for follow the leader. Joker snorted suddenly at the thought of Cash playing follow the leader.

Skittish and the Strong Silent type guard both tightened their holds on his biceps, and Cash glanced back to send a glace his way. Joker grinned and sent Cash a playful wink.

The elevator dinging in the distances pulled his attention away,

There standing by the elevator was a female doctor he had never seen before. She looked to be struggling a little bit under the weight of a box she was carrying, but she still kindly held the elevator door open for them.

“Ain’t she a pea-“

Strong and silent might have reprimanded him for speaking, but he was too focused on the heart shaped face of the woman before him. She had turned and was currently smiling sweetly at Cash, but what really got his attention was the long deep set scar that traveled along the right side of her mouth, curved up over her cheek and towards her eye.

Without thought he looked down quickly searching for a badge. He needed a name.

Dr. Harleen Quinzel

Ha..ha..haaaaa

[knotfodder]

-

[fmdluna]

[bobby caldwell vc] i bet you’ve wondered where i’ve been!! hi my kings, queens, and in-betweens!! i’m so super excited to be here and present to you my kid, miss moon micha, who is also known as luna of wish!! if you don’t know me, my name is jada, and this is my second go at bringing this mess of a muse to the famed-verse!! i’m back with tons of refreshed inspiration, happiness, and love to give to you all!! so i’m super excited to establish some new connections as well as revive new ones!! i’ve missed this roleplay dearly and am happy to be back, so if you’d like to plot with me please like this and i’d be more than happy to start something up with our characters!! i’ve got discord if youd like it, but ngl i’m the worst at getting back to you. and here’s her plots, profiles, and bio if you’d like!! you know how all that goes, trivia under the cut as well!!

as a preface this whole thing will be v casual because i cba

seoul born & bred, an only child, established in 1998!!

so basically her mother comes from a pretty small town but her father’s from seoul so she started getting that coin!! 

anyways she was raised real uppity, fancy house private schools & all that. but she also lived kind of like a mixed family because her dad was borderline obsessed with western culture so he was always like speak english!! eat american food!! listen to american music!! and she would always be taken on trips to paris france usa and shit but she really didn’t care she just wanted to be at home tbh

her mom is the opposite, always urging her to know her culture & cooking her homemade food and belting all her ballads w/micha. it was a lot less forceful which is part of the reason she prefers her mom and also why she doesn’t have that much of an urge to learn english or travel to other countries & all that

anyways life went on as normal until around middle school where she discovered kpop!! this was made canon last time but i wanted to revisit it!! it sounds stupid but was v influential because it a.) made her a knight stan lol and it b.) showed her the potential of becoming an idol as a career c.) opened her up to the kpop genre!! 

you may think i’m joking but the only music she was ever exposed to was her parent’s taste so it definitely was a change for her

anyways that phase was just spent being a real cringy stan but anyways proceed

 things seem to be okay until money seems to be the only topic of her parent’s conversations - how they’ll get it, how much was lost, all that. her dad’s not making as much as he once was but is still spending like he is, her mom thinks they should downgrade in favor of affordability. the result?? messy messy divorce micha is put in the middle of. 

[tw in brackets: substance abuse & verbal abuse!! i’ll make this quick just in case people are uncomfy with strong mentions of these things!! but basically within the stress her dad found himself caught up in drugs and alcohol and it was just a mess. while he was still his normal charismatic self to others, behind closed doors he got really harsh and used really degrading speech towards them over the span of like....a year.] triggering content ends here!

so - how does this relate to micha?? this is a big reason she’s so “justice for all!! women deserve rights!! we’re powerful!!” because she saw & endured all the shit that her dad put them through and also saw how they got out of it. so now she really feels like being strong and powerful is the only way to compensate for those years that she felt weak.

but!! sad times over. anyways, after dealing with all that her mom and her decided that they’d had enough and moved to their own apartment and her mother filed for divorce. there life was a lot simpler but it was happier, because her father wasn’t in the picture. this is also why micha prefers the simplistic life and hates people who are materialistic now!!

anyways - wrapping this up because it’s 10 and i really need to post my intro lmao.

discovered her love for music!! her and her mom used to sing all the time and she loved it and was like huh maybe i should actually do this music stuff

then!! she joined dimensions for a year as a trainee, hated it, and left. thought she was done with being an idol, then got scouted by bc!! was super super excited, joined & then was a trainee for three years until her debut!!

that whole time she was mad because she felt like she was just being bounced around although she was working hard. a big big reason she’s unsatisfied with being in wish is because she thinks it wasn’t really fitting for her and they just kind of plopped her in there because they didn’t know where else to put her

but now we’re here!! she’s....very Extra. deems herself (and kind of is tbh) one of the least favorite members of wish, more in terms of the company than anything. because she’s very outspoken and speaks against issues when she sees them!!

the reason she’s like this is that she had behaved for all of training & like 2 years into wish’s career but when she realized that wasn’t getting her anywhere and her other member’s started getting opportunities and she didn’t she started acting out (because throwing tantrums makes things better!!)

she just wants a solo and it’s not happening rip

but the thing is she’s such an angel on stage and makes the money she’s supposed to for them so i mean she’s walking on thin ice but she’s not doing enough to get herself fired you know what i mean

as for her around wish, she’s a bit of a grandma?? always telling wish to hush & sit down somewhere, but also can’t be bothered to actually be their mom and take care of them lmao.

as for her public image, she’s known to be a cutesy-badass type?? because she’s real cute visually but like when her little rap parts get on the powerful woman pops out

which is fine,,, but being cute is exhausting and she’s tired and wants girl crush!!

also loves all women everywhere that’s very important

uHhh i don’t know what else to say i’ll add more later but!! she does like doing asmr videos and watching them so if you want muses to share recs!! she’s your girl!!

idk what i’m doing or what else to say but yes i’ll rant all about her in ims if you want she’s a mess ok

[koolkvat-blog]

       hello  loves  ,   what’s  up  !   i’m  super  excited  to  be  here  &  to  finally  play  my  precious girl  ,   jade aka kool kat   .   i’m  LOLA  ,   use  she / her prounouns  ,   i am NINETEEN  ,   &   i  am  currently  in  the  gmt + 1 timezone  which  means  yes  ,  my  ass should’ve  been  awake  for  intro  posting  but  i  don’t  know  what  time  management  is  and  ended  up  swamped  w/  work  ,  so  !   everything   you  need  to  know  about  about  miss  kat  is  under  the  cut  ,   &  i’m  rlly  thrilled  to  be  apart  of  such  a  wonderful  rp  with  such  gorgeous  muses  .  corniness over  ––   if  you’re  looking  to  plot  sumn  out  ,   just  hit  that   ♥︎    &   i’ll  make  my  way  on  over  to  ur  dms  ,  or  feel  free  to  add  me  up   on  discord  which  i’ll  give  in im’s  if  anybody’s  interested  !   ♡♡♡         tw  :   family issues  ,  body image issues  &  drug mention  ( not  explicit ) . 

001 . SYNOPSIS  . FULL     NAME  .      jade        kikuchi . NICKNAMES  .      kool kat    . AGE  .      twenty - one . DATE     OF     BIRTH  .      twenty  -  seventh     of     september   ,     1993      /     libra . PLACE     OF     BIRTH  .      harajuku ,   tokyo ,     japan .         GENDER  .       cisgender     female . SEXUALITY  .     (  closeted  )  pansexual  . NATIONALITY  .      japanese  ,  now  american  too  after  successfully  gaining  citizenship  . ETHNICITY  .      asian  . OCCUPATION  .       fashion designer at katz designz      ,     former  fashion  design  and  journalist  student  back  in  her  original  timeline  . PLAYLIST  .      here  !  (  +  )     charismatic , enthusiastic , warm , energetic , adventurous , compassionate , animated . (  -  )     deceptive ,  independent ,  emotional , territorial , ambitious , impulsive , temperamental , insecure , sarcastic .  

002 . AESTHETIC  .      wheatgrass  smoothies , 90′s  anime  with  subtitles  , chanel  no. 5, speeding  on  a  desert  road  with  the  windows  down ,  painting  your  toenails  on  the  dashboard ,  neon  prints ,  cat  lazing  on  a  balcony  in  the  sun , black  lace ,  japanese  horror  films  ,  sour  cocktails  with  sugar  around  the  rim , half - smoked  cigarettes ,  stacks  of  fashion  magazines , long  hair  hastily  dyed  different  colours in  a  motel  bathroom ,  thrift  stores   .

003. INFORMATION  .

tl;dr : a flighty, inattentive adventurer: a follower of whims; personable and sociable but lacks the skills to maintain relationships because she’s entirely (and perhaps too) career focused, checks her horoscope daily and entirely relies on the stars when concerning relationships, epitome of a britney spears / gwen stefani stan back in the 2000′s, still owns a (bedazzled) flip phone, collector of vintage fashion (chanel, elle, juicy couture etc.) a subscriber to the Leonardo Da Vinci sleeping method; catch her at 2 am making soufflés or buying plane tickets to shiwei so she can really experience the culture: will tell you she loves you ten minutes after first introduction because she’s high: kind of unintentionally insensitive to those she doesn’t know and closed off but in like a cool, lovable way. 

•    heads up im running on like 5 hrs sleep so sry when this inevitably derails ! ok sweet let’s get into this . 

•    so as aforementioned this is jade kukichi, aka, kool kat. she was dubbed that by her friends due to her unique fashion style and sense of dress, and it’s stuck. lbr nobody other than her friends can use that term so if you do, she’s just going to stare at u for a quick sec before saying ‘it’s jade’. 

•    born in harajuku, tokyo to a cardiothoracic surgeon of a father and a politician of a mother, jade grew up traveling the world and becoming flighty af, never thinking she was going to make long - term friends and kinda being okay with that. 

•    her family has never stayed in one place for very long, though her aging parents eventually settled into a permanent residence in the us around the time she turned sixteen, not soon enough for jade to break the habit of wandering, but thankfully quick enough for her to meet the bratz girls who were just as adventurous and fun - loving as she. she's spent much of her teen life jumping from place to place wherever her interests are that moment, collecting people along the way, but to find friends was the only thing she was missing. jade has a brilliant mind, but she lacks patience and follow through. she needs guidance or she'll jump from idea to idea, job to job, whim to whim.

•    ngl, jade pretty much hated her home life. her parents were an overbearing presence in her life, her mother wanting jade to be a proper lady who also went into a profession like theirs (entirely serious and stifling when it came to creativity, doctor, politician, lawyer etc.) while jade herself wanted to check out the latest trends and go to the mall w her friends – so she turned all of her focus and energy into getting good grades in everything she wanted to do in the hopes that she could be the most successful fashion designer, then leaving town forever. 

•    like she spent 7 yrs in high school graduating w honours but she barely knew what was happening in 9/10 of her classes and sometimes she just slept through classes and then wing her exams which she miraculously did well at. it was just not a good idea to send jade to a public school at 11 after being in boarding school for the rest of her life and then never really enforce any rules :~\ she has trouble with that kind of thing.. as in making logical choices instead of saying "YEAH lets go watch american psycho and smoke weed!" skipping chemistry to do just that 

•    she loves fun and values doing what makes her happy over most things. it's hard to pin her down and she spends most of her life chasing after ideas that don't really follow any sort of conscious order, bc she’s really got that ‘i’ve got dreams and i’m gonna do everything in my power to achieve them’ personality. 

•    according to bratz canon she’s worked as literally everything ? she’s one of those insufferable people who r just. good everything ig and that’s just how it is on this bitch of an earth. jade’s been a photographer, a song - writer and bass player in a rock band (shout out to bratz rock angelz the best movie w the best soundtrack ever), a student studying fashion design, a fashion columnist, a quickly fired nanny, and many other things in between. 

•    so when she appears in toonsville she’s kind of out of it that she’s not doing something w her skills and sets up her own business which she loves ? being her own boss suits her fine (for now) because she’s got a Real Job and she's actually trying rly hard so she can fulfill her dreams !! like suck it mom nd dad haha !!!

•    jade has a lot of weird feelings TM about her body and her looks and struggles a lot with her self confidence :~( she had a shit time at school with boys saying she was too thin and she compensated by acting like she didn't like anyone at all for a while and now she thinks she isn't good enough for anyone when rly she is a cinnamon bun too good for this world too pure 

•    best friend ever she is so good at being a friend if u text her at 3am to go out or cry on her shoulder shes ready to go at 3:15 even if she was sleeping w lots of snacks and treats and love!!! she is sooo extroverted around those she’s comfortable w, she gains so much energy from being around people and she loves being nice and being around ppl she likes 

•    she becomes the mom of groups pretty easily (hence why she’s the leader of the bratz) bc she bottles up most of her own problems to help ppl with theirs!! which is toxic yea but she puts people first always so !! plz help her poor repressed soul!! rip kool kat.. 

•    still super into the stuff of her time so like.. she loves the x files and bad reality tv shows (i want to be a hilton) and reads gossip magazines on the reg because she enjoys that stuff! also very into girl groups.. ginger spice / posh spice is an eternal mood.  

•    anyway yes sweet adult-child of 21 (she is in denial about that tho like she doesn't want to be childish) who is v nice v kind v loyal v baked a lot of time, v passionate v silly. idk what i'm doin hope u like it < 3

004. WANTED CONNECTIONS . 

friends / best friends / ride or dies . jade genuinely loves people, loves talking to strangers and getting into intense conversations with people she’s only just met, learning other people’s way of life and bettering herself for getting. she is, however, incredibly blunt and has never once minced words to keep from hurting someone’s feelings or to ease them into a situation. she’d much rather have a one-time conversation with a stranger than make long lasting relationships. she has three very close friends –  to the point of co - dependence –  and honestly, she’d rather spend all of her time doing things she loves such as her hobbies, sticking her nose into the latest vogue, or searching for cute collars and treats for her cat mica w them instead of making new friends. she's also FUN and she'd be happy to go on crazy road trips or buy out a movie theater for a day or anything that she thinks will her buds happy. she's traveled all over, so she’s v well read and cultured. she loves people but she hates complication and won't deal with any sort of emotional labor. she wants to live in the moment and expects everyone in her life to do so as well. just be chill, y'all. 

frenemies / enemies /  rivals  . please be her enemy, she needs people to antagonize shdhshd. she grew up pretty much affluent so she’s pretty spoiled even if she doesn’t want to admit it, and that rebellious side of her hasn’t died down yet. despite the fact that she is wealthy and in good community standing, she has a hard time letting go of childish grudges. in general she’s got a lot of suppressed feelings and ready to fight everyone who hurts her friends – like an irritated cat – so, honestly, come at her ? she is sometimes a little fickle and flighty and a unintentionally stuck up when it comes to art / fashion and she has definitely said the wrong thing at the wrong time and pissed the wrong people off, she can’t stand anyone underestimating her or thinking she’s dumb bc she’s interested in fashion. like gtfo !

ex’s , fwb’s , possible love interests .  jade is fairly fluid romantically and is the type of person who hates labels but also just wants to be cherished and called cute pet names lowkey. she loves a lot and gives a lot to her relationships, but typically doesn't want to commit to anything important. she’s gone from one disastrous relationship to another, ending up with a boyfriend who constantly ridiculed her image that was essentially the catalyst for her cutting off romantic ties, quite a recent wound before she found herself on the island actually. worst thing is tht she’s convinced herself that she’s been the problem in these relationships –  that she turns good people bad or that she is too much for people to deal with, she’s not sure what the issue is and she doesn’t really want to know. so…. fuck everything amirite ? anyway, she’s a strong independent woman who don’t need no (wo)man. 

etc . pls give me people jade can give a makeover to, people she shares an apartment w on the island, people who think fashion is girly and vapid.. creatives who love what she’s doing, anything tbh << 3

[sugapop-rp]

*:･ﾟƜιѕнℓιѕтѕ Oƒ Ɯιѕнєѕ

              ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ hi, hi! tis bunny anna here and i thought i would decide to make a little wishlist for my muses! i figured this might be handy for in the future because who knows right? so read below to see what i have in mind for my muse beans and if you are interested, please like this post and/or send me a message so we can chit chat about them :) 

note:you do not have to be mutuals with me to do any of this (obviously lol), you can be a random peep passing by that is curious and that’s cool with me! you liking this means i shall be sending you a message instead thus make sure there is a way for me to do that (dm or ask). this will be also updated as time goes on depending on what new idea/muse i may have at the time

Choi Ha-joon, 26 and is an elementary school teacher

“muse a sings like an angel but is really shy so they only sing in the shower. everyday,muse b, who is their neighbor, listens to their singing and thinks muse a is actually a professional singer. one day they meet at the elevator of their building and muse b really wants to ask for muse a to sing a song for them, or just compliment them. but how will they do so without making things awkward? and to top this situation, muse a is also a lotattractive.“

give me that cliche old high school lovers see each other again after school by accident, the feels hit them once again and oof. make it angsty, make it fluffy, idc just give me some of that!

ha-joon is a book lover so what if ha-joon keeps coming to this book store that also involves your muse. they get to know each other for their enjoyment of books but the plot twist of this all is that ha-joon doens’t know your muse is not only an author but one of ha-joon’s favorite writers!

you left your USB flash drive in the library computer and i had to go through your files to figure out who you are and i ended up reading the entirety of this book you’re working on and wow you’re actually really good???? 

Kris Yamada, 26 and is an assassin

so lowkey when i made kris i got a bit inspired by the video game “assassin’s creed” so would be interested to do something loosely based around that. something like say your muse is working for the enemy organization that kris’s order doesn’t like. they meet and get closer (friendship or romantic, doesn’t matter) and go from there? very basic idea i know lol but can be fun i think!

give me assasin buddies, bro this is something that kris is in need of lol. sure he can be like a grouch sometimes but he knows how to have fun! he used to live the wild life so let’s do some wild friend antics lol

speaking of used too’s...why not bring something back from the past for kris?  say maybe an old friend from kirs’s childhood? they can maybe meet on the street one day and they may want to ask questions because of kris suddenly dropping all contact? or we could do the more cliche idea of said friend is now a target and oops, now kris is stuck in an oopsie :’)

Song "Hayes" Hyeok, 26 and is an indie music producer. 

hayes doesn’t have the best relationship with his parents (this can be read in his bio here) so maybe one day his parents may want to do a surprise visit because he does have good contact with his sister and she praised alot about him. his parents (specifically father) wants to see how “amazing hayes is doing”. cue hayes trying to make things not go south because his parents are not fans of the fact that hayes likes boys...so to see him having a boyfriend/fiance/husband may cause some problems to put it lightly. this could include hayes pretending not to be in a relationship with your muse or pretending they are just roommates. a bit of a heavy idea so far in this list, i know but it is something i would like to explore for hayes. 

rival music producers, just give me some of that drama lol

a mentor type friendship where hayes could take in your muse under his wing to help them out in the music scene

“🌟–– we had a really ugly break-up and didn’t talk for a long time but oh hey, you’re at this party too and we’ve had a few drinks and now we’re kissing and … oh, all that wasn’t supposed to happen tonight but we’re sort of on better terms now and yikes!!! i might be falling for you again …”

“muse a is in an accident which leaves them without memory, and muse b had been on their way to break things off with their beloved muse a. when they arrive at the hospital the only thing muse a remembers is how in love they were with muse b, and muse b is forced to keep coming back to positive. muse b is trying to move on, trying to find a way to tell muse b that they want to leave them, but find themselves falling back in love withmuse a. muse a of course, eventually get their memories back, even the ones up until the last moments before the accident where they remember the fights and tension and out of the silence ask ‘youre leaving me arent you?’ but by this time muse b is entirely in love with muse a again, and muse a just feels hurt and decieved“

Sarla Dunnavant, 26 and is a businesswomen (no longer active)

give me that cliche idea of the businesswomen falling for their secretary or something similar, i’m weak for cliche’s and this one would be just fun as fudgecakes lmao.

enemies to lovers;your muse is a rival to sarla’s company and they sort of can’t stand each other ??? but like ??? respect each other at the same time ??? it’s weird but they think they cannot stand each other but one day during some business event, they find out they actually like each other and can get along (can be romantic or platonic)

based of this iconic post

ok hear me out...a sugar baby plot? it doesn’t have to be a schmexy plot either! it can be something like out of kindness (and boredom becuase what else can she do with her money) she will give gifts to your muse. like you want that fancy make up collection? alright, your college? paid off at the moment as we speak. want a lifetime supply of donuts? she can do just that. all she asks is to spend time with her and just chill out. 

Angelica Heartorne, 25 and is a vampire huntress

legit anything vampire stuff related. i am not going to be flippen picky. 

just because she IS  a vampire huntress doesn’t mean it has to be ONLY to vampires. she is multiverse so she can be a hunter for anything supernatural really. this can be something discussed for sure but she is versatile, she doesn’t have to stick to only human like leeches lmao.

a bit of a weird but funny idea that jsut came to mind? but what happens if angelica was dating someone right? but what if that person she was dating...was a vampire and she had no idea about this until by accident or something? please this sounds hilarious to me and would love to rp this out.

“ muse a enters a coffee shop and was in such a rush that she forgot her wallet, as she explains what happened to the worker and ask for them to cancel her order, then suddenly there’s a hand that hoovers over her head and money is slapped on the counter incoming muse b paying for her. muse a is like wHAT THE FUCK ! I AM AN INDEPENDENT WOMEN I DONT NEED ANYONE TO PAY FOR ME, but she turns around and meets eyes with muse b who is beyond attractive. muse a then stumbles and ask how she could repay muse b and he tells her to sit down and enjoy her coffee with him “

“you said you’d call me in the morning but the voicemail you left had her voice in the background”

“ Humans start out at birth with milk white blood. The more crimes they commit, the darker their blood becomes. One day, you meet your soulmate. Skip a few years, and things are amazing… Until your soulmate trips, falls, and exposes black blood… “

based off this post

Jeong Jin-Gi, 25 and is an indie artist

“ Don’t give me one-sided unrequited love, give me two-sided unwanted love. Both sides are deeply in love with the other and both sides are like ‘fuck, really?? them??? really?’ “

“ ok so hear a sister out… i want an actual HEART WRENCHING  celebrity  &  non - celebrity thread. like muse a meeting muse b in the most random place and muse b KNOWS  muse a is famous but they’re not gonna say anything but on the inside they’re secretly freaking out. but they get to talking  &  muse b kinda forgets that they are because they’re just so normal and they have so much fun talking to them,  and muse ahas a rich lifestyle  &  is the most popular person in the world,  yet the only thing they wanna do is be with muse b. but dating the most famous person ever comes with the DISADVANTAGES.  i want the ugly stans drilling them over dating their favorite star,  i want the paparazzi making up stories about muse b  &  giving the constant break up  -  conspiracy’s,  i want the late night drama filled phone  -  calls about “ maybe this is just too much for me  “  &  muse b seeing muse a in a new picture released with ANOTHER  apparent love interest,  and i want new songs released by muse a that’s a little  T O O   emotional to just be a careless piece of work.  i just want the constant back  &  forth between them  & them wondering if their love is strong enough to overcome the difficulties or if all they are is a love that was never meant to last. “

jin ain’t no angel, he’s a bit of a person with an addiction to drgs so give me anything surrounding that. dealers or pals that find out about his addiction, anything really. just want to dive deeper into this side of jin

“i’m trying to start a celebrity gossip blog and you are an effing trainwreck so now i’m lowkey stalking you in hopes of getting a humiliating story” au

plot idea : muse a was a punk, and muse b did ballet. what more can i say? muse a wanted muse b, but muse b would never that secretly she wanted muse a as well. all of muse b’s friends stuck up their nose because they had a problem with muse a’s baggy clothes. five years from now, muse b sits at home. feeding the baby they’re all alone. b turns on tv, and guess who she sees? muse a rocking on mtv.

James Yeeun, 22 and is an art student in college

“im gonna claw myself apart. we watch netflix together and i keep a respectful and responsible distance; you lean against me to pause the screen. ask if i want cookies. i can’t stop staring at your lips. what? i say. i knew what you’d asked me even as you ask again, i just don’t want the moment to end. we’re just friends. we’re just friends.”

okay but how about an “i’m in my twenties and sick of still being a virgin, so one night when i’m drunk i think it’s a good idea to dm my old celebrity crush who is no longer really that famous anyway and ask them to take my virginity – wait why did they just dm me back?? giving me their number?? i don’t even remember doing this” au

“You kissed me on the playground the day before you moved away in the 4th grade and now your dorm is right across the hall from mine” AU

would love to do something where james could realize he DOES like boys as well. this is something he isn’t sure off himself so i would like to dive into this background of james.

so i was watching tiktoks last night and i’ve came across this story time and would love a plot for it… so muse a had a bad childhood for varies of reasons one thing lead to another and they were kicked out of the house, so they ended up couch surfing.. this enters their fear of the dark because they would wake up in the middle of the night not knowing where they are and everything is just dark and scary, so they begin sleeping with night lights or any sort of light that they have. well moving into college means roommates and muse a is too embarrassed to mention how they’re scared of the dark to their roommate. so first night, muse a wakes up screaming and enters muse b aka their roommate into their room and they’re like ?? are you good? finally muse a breaks and tells muse b what happened to them and then next night muse a finds a night light in their room, however, that night they still wake up screaming. muse b wakes up as well and just tell them that they’re ok and that they got them.. second year of college goes by and they’re not roommates anymore. first night moving in, it happens again.. muse a wakes up screaming only to find that muse b texted them that ‘they’re in their new apartment and that everything is going to be okay.’ it could turn into beautiful friendship or maybe something more?? i just want it pls

Rose Price, 23 and is a rebel along with school drop out

lowkey i legit got inspired by the video game character “chloe” from “life is strange” but i decided to do my take of chloe if that makes sense so...rachel amber inspired plot xD to those that are a bit confused, rachel amber the character is someone chloe befriends during her time when life is a bit downhill to put it lightly. they get close (some would say even romantic) and up until the final years of high school...rachel is gone. now in the games, rachel isn’t alive BUT i was thinking why not twist this around? make said missing friend (this would be your muse) show up out of the blue? with no answer as to why they just “left” and simply goes back to how things were. 

“gimme muse a just finished their sentence in jail and they lost contact with most of the people in their former life. on the day of his release, the gate pulls back and their high school sweetheart who they lost contact with years ago muse b is in the parking lot. “

  “i drove two hours to the closest video rental store that’s still operating and you were checking out the only copy of the movie i was after“

“we both decided to take a [yoga/fencing/cooking etc] class and we’re the only two assholes not taking it seriously and everyone else is giving us dirty looks but we keep grinning over at each other“

jsut give me any fxf plot ideas man. i want rose to get some love :(

Daehwi Goe, 24 and is an indie video game creator/works at a cafe

" give me a plot where both muses are each other’s pen pals that end up falling in love through letters please. threads would be in letter format up until they finally meet each other. please. “

“ imagine that you’ve been stood up by your douche of a boyfriend on date night and the waitress keeps asking if you’re ready to order but you keep asking for more time hoping that he’s just late. people are starting to look at you with those apologetic looks like they know and you start to feel worse and worse about the whole situation but as you decide to just get up and leave, this boy you’ve never seen sits down explaining loudly “sorry i’m so late, babe, traffic is crazy right now.” and he quietly adds, “i’m Michael. just go with it, yeah? whoever didn’t bother to show up is a dick.” and so you do go with it because he’s being sweet and trying to save you (and plus he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen) and as you’re leaving the restaurant after the best non-planned date ever, he asks you out for real this time. “

“ AFTER MONTHS YEARS OF REPORTING TO A JOB THAT ABSOLUTELY KILLS MY SOUL, I FINALLY QUIT! WITH NO BACKUP PLAN OR WAY TO PAY MY BILLS ONCE NEXT MONTH IS OVER, I WALKED DANCED OUT OF MY WORKPLACE WITH THE BIGGEST SMILE ON MY FACE.. BUT NOW REALITY IS SINKING IN, THAT I’VE JUST DONE SOMETHING CRAZY IMPULSIVE AND OMG YOU’RE WATCHING ME SPIRAL OVER WHAT A MISTAKE I’VE JUST MADE AND YOU’RE SO SWEET TO OFFER TO BUY ME A DRINK BECAUSE I SURE AF CANNOT AFFORD ONE. “

“we broke up right before a giant roadtrip our friends planned and we don’t want to bail on everyone and ruin the trip so yay, looks like we get to spend a five hour drive and a weekend in a cottage together.”

Adagio Seo, 20 and is a warlock

just give me that chilling adventure’s of sabrina plots man...it’s why adagio was even made lmao.

adagio while yes, i did made him specifically for that show universe, just like angelica he is mulitverse so he’s not off limits to that show only. if you want him to be in a harry potter au? cool with me. a normal college au? also cool with me. want to go full on twlight, even better lmao. just because he is mostly for the show, doesn’t mean he’s not expandable :)

“ does the “i slept with you the other day and i didnt know we had a mutual friend and now we’re sitting across each other for brunch and it’s awkward because i ran out when you were asleep” au exist bc i need that fic “

ok so adagio has an interest of necromancy but like the thing is he’s bad...like really bad at necromancy lmao (there’s a reason he skills in herbal) so like just give the whacky shiz that can happen when doing necromancy wrong. 

basically anything warlock/witch plots, throw them my way! want my wild warlock to have some love :(

Simone Hines, 22 and is a worker at the garden section of homdepot

the happy florist who delivers one flower to the boss of the hardcore law firm across the street everyday, just to make their day a little bit brighter

plot #001: in which muse a is really insecure and struggles with their self-esteem, so muse b, their best friend, starts secretly sending notes with all the reasons to love them.

plot #013: one day, muse a wakes up and finds themself to be in the future, seemingly married to their high school enemy, muse b.

any plot with a soft, sweet, submissive male that needs to be protected at all costs because he’s naive and doesn’t know how to speak up for himself with a girl that’s dominant, rough around the edges, not afraid of anything, and is ready to take on the world.

  tbh i just need a long distance relationship plot where they cry on skype bc they miss each other so much and they have passive aggressive texts bc of what’s on each others snapchat stories but then the fluffy moments when they see each other at the airport and all the desperate please don’t leave me again sex and i just need a long distance plot  

Levi Kim, 24 and owns his own cafe

highkey want a ‘someone wrote your phone number on the wall of a bathroom in my dorm with ‘call for a good time’ and i just texted you to let you know that i scribbled it out and oh wait you’re actually funny and easy to talk to and now we’re talking every day and i might have a tiny little crush on you even tho  i don’t even know your name’ plot

i got up at 2 am to get some snacks at the convenience store down the street and opened my door to find you trying to sleep on the floor of the hallway because your roommate has his fiancée over so i guess i’ll lend you my couch for the night AU

it’s 3 am and you’re blasting off classic rock at full volume and your music taste might be awesome but sOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO FUCKING SLEEP YOU SHITHEAD

utterly obsessed with the niche but incredibly romantic concept that is “late night radio show host falls hopelessly in love with and pines for recurring caller, oblivious to the fact that the person calling in whenever they’re on air is also in love with and pining for them after finding comfort in listening to their voice every night on their long commutes home”

Park Hades, 23 and is next in line for the Park corporations/modern day greek god hades

look i’m glad you have a healthy sex life and all but will you please try not to pierce a whole through my ceiling with your bed thanks

i have a policy of not giving my real name on dating apps and apparently you do the same. we have a good conversation so we decide to meet, but oh no … it turns out you’re my ex. yikes!!!

[xdefending]

ANSWER THE FOLLOWING SO PEOPLE KNOW HOW SHIPS WORK ON YOUR BLOG

WHAT’S YOUR OTP FOR YOUR MUSE? :

Lorelei x some god damn peace and quiet.

Also Lorelei x someone who won’t die. That works too.

Oh, and I guess I like the classic HoK x Martin Septim ship, but I enjoy other ships just as much, tbh?

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE? :

Lorelei is chronologically 227 and physically in her late twenties to early thirties, so anywhere under legal age is where I draw the line at shipping romantically. That goes for both mental and physical age. Idc how old your immortal child is mentally or chronologically; if their appearance doesn’t match my limit at the least, I won’t be comfortable with it, sorry.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING? :  

It’s sort of a yes and no for me. On one hand, I definitely ship based on chemistry. If our muses don’t click well, it simply won’t work, and I’m not going to force it to. On the other hand, if I read up on a muse before interacting with them, and I can already sort of assess a pretty good potential for something shippy, I'm not afraid to contact the mun and plot something out along those lines. Sometimes you just know. And it just tends to happen with Lorelei more often than I initially anticipated, especially because she tends to be rather emotionally unavailable due to circumstances regarding her canon.

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY’RE CONSIDERED NS/FW? :

When it becomes implied that nsfw content will be taking place, that’s usually when I put it under the cut. Inappropriate touching/groping/grinding or even just an outright “do you want to have sex?” ---> “yes, please.”

WHO ARE OTHER MUSES YOU SHIP YOUR MUSE WITH? :

Canon muses tend to be pretty obsolete, minus Martin. I guess I also slightly ship her with Legate Rikke because that’s who she married in her first Skyrim file, lmao. I am currently plotting to test the waters with a ship between Lorelei and @mechanicosmia​‘s Sotha Sil because I adore him and it’s something I see potential in, surprisingly. Oh, yeah and @grimhymns​ and I have a cute little ship between my bab and Serana as well.

With oc’s, there is only one ship that I’ve extensively plotted with @grimhymns​, and that’s if she’s still on board with creating Remliel (an Aureal/Golden Saint oc). There have been brief mentions of others, but nothing really developed. I’m always open to welcoming more.

Now, crossover ships? Oh, now I have plenty of those that I would love to write at some point, if I can find willing muns to write them with me. One of my dream crossover ships is Lorelei x Aloy (from Horizon Zero Dawn). I’d at least love to write a close friendship between them if one isn’t willing to write a romantic ship with them. Lorelei would stan Aloy SO MUCH, you have no idea.

ANY NOTPS? :

Not particularly; there aren’t any ships that I’m so much vehemently against. Typically, I’m pretty open to the idea of trying out anything, so long as it makes sense and I can see the potential there. I mean, I definitely can’t see potential in Lorelei being with anyone who represents the opposite of her morality. I feel like there are probably some people out there who ship the HoK with Mehrunes Dagon, for example, lmao.

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU? :

Well, yes, of course. I’m pretty oblivious af, so unless you ask me directly, I probably won’t pick up on your intentions unless they’re explicitly implied ic or something. And I’d feel uncomfortable if someone just outright decided/assumed that a ship will take place without consulting me about it.

HOW OFTEN DO YOU LIKE TO SHIP? :

I’m always open to it, but I like to ship non-romantic ships just as often as romantic ships. /shrug

ARE YOU MULTISHIP? :

Yes. Every ship I write takes place in its own separate verse unless specified otherwise between muns.

ARE YOU SHIP-OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS? :

Somewhere in the middle, I think. I love ships, and they make my rpc experience incredibly enjoyable, but I don’t have to have them, you know. I'm more of a “if the situation calls for it” kind of person.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM? :

I honestly don’t really have one.

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU? :

Ask first, then ramble about shippy headcanons with me if I agree, lol. Because you will be subjected to my pathetic nonsense if you’re brave enough to explore a ship with me.

Tagged by: @mechanicosmia ( ilysm <3 ) Tagging: anyone who wants to do the thing /lazy

[connors-heart]

to be human: [ch. 6. neptune]

playlist - ch. 1 \ ch. 2 \ ch. 3 \ ch. 4 \ ch. 5 \ ch. 7 \ ch. 8

[ being a DCPD detective, your job was relatively normal - that is until androids came along, more specifically, RK800 ]

pairing ⟶ connor x reader

fandom ⟶ detroit: become human

warnings/a.n. ⟶ [mentions of family loss] ; this chapter is just short and to the point w a whole bunch of fluff since i’ve been blue ballin everybody’s emotions lol

w.c. ⟶ 1.5k

tags ⟶ @dragoste-lunes - @swagfeatpayne - @erinacg - @thequirkyn3rd - @the-witch-in-silence - @odd-otter - @randomgrove254 - @johnmulaneyslut - @fanworrior - @sophster1881 - @wowowokapowie - @glyxiebear - @snooper1 - @nefelislytherinpride - @madammarkiplier - @losersunitetonight - @ashtonmichaelhoran - @attackonmikaelson - @deviantly-gayy - @yuckybarness- @drastically-here - @100kindsofblake - @di-the-happy-psychopath - @angrilyangry​ -  @ystlumod-dyslecsig-deillion​ - @kickthenestor​ - @jeanxmarco​ - @pandemoniumambassador

credit: one-of-the-rk800

Peering down at the painkillers in your palm, you went to throw them back, but not before Connor could grab your wrist. Looking up at him, your face contorted, at least as much as it could around the pain of your now bandaged nose that'd been broken back into place an hour prior, in confusion.

��Your doctor recommended that you only take two pills every four to six hours, you shouldn’t be taking five at a time,”

You sighed, gazing at him with a blank, tired stare, “I don’t care, Connor,” you groaned, attempting to pull your wrist from his grip, but to no avail.

He plucked three of the tablets from your hand, grabbing the orange pill bottle from your sink and placing them back in before shoving them into his pocket, “Oxycodone has high potential for abuse and dependence. I’m sorry, Y/N, but I can’t allow you to take more than the recommended dosage,”

Connor watched as you peered at him through an exhausted gaze. Too tired to argue, you tossed the remaining pills from your hand to your mouth before taking the glass of water from Connor’s hand, drinking it down in gulps.

Making your way back into your living room, you took a seat on your couch, in front of the several manila folders that rested upon your coffee table. The couch sank slightly as Connor took a seat next to you, picking up the Carlos Ortiz case and flipping through the stamped papers as Cleo hopped up as well, resting next to him.

“Is Hank coming?” Connor asked, eyes still glued to the file.

You shook your head slightly, “He’s at Jimmy’s Bar, probably getting piss-wasted right now,” you mumbled. The lieutenant's outburst put a damper on your mood to say the least, although, you didn’t doubt the fact that him threatening to take you off of the case was in some way him expressing the fact that he didn’t want you in harm’s way. You found some comfort in it, to an extent anyway. There was little to nothing comforting about getting chewed out by Hank.

Leaning back into the plush couch, a heavy breath escaped your nose as you peered down at the case from earlier that day. The document was all but useful, noting evidence found from the crime scene such as the indecipherable journal as well as the model and serial number and fake drivers license.

You looked over at Connor, nose buried in the three open cases in his lap and hand. You crossed your arms, “We need to find what these cases all have in common,” you noted. He blinked, his hard gaze still set on the files, “From the cases we’ve already closed, it seems to be that a majority of them mention rA9,”

You sat up, resting your elbows on your knees, “So, we’ve established that most of them have a compulsive obsession with this rA9 thing, and see it to be some kind of savior,”

“Correct,”

You watched as Connor absentmindedly scratched Cleo’s ears, “What about the other deviants? The one from the Stan Harris case, and the AX400 model, with the little girl?”

The android looked at you quizzically as you sat in thought for a moment before looking up at him, “I’m just going out on a limb on this one, but… Ethan didn’t kill Stan Harris, not alone at least - from the sound of it there was a group, multiple deviants,”

Connor’s LED ran yellow in thought, “You think there could be a group?”

“It’s possible, I don’t think there’d be a deviant outbreak without them rallying up,” you explained, “Androids are smart, smarter than us at least, I’m convinced there has to be a hideout or something along those lines that they all know about, the same way they all know about rA9,”

“Do you suppose this hideout could be where the android and girl may have been heading?” Connor suggested.

You nodded slowly, your gaze falling onto the carpet, “Probably,”

Connor stared at you, his eyes tracing the purple-blue bruising that looked to peek out from under the bandage on the bridge of your nose.

“Why didn’t you want me to catch them?” he suddenly asked.

Your eyes faltered, closing them shut as if to regain your composure. “I just - … I knew if we brought them in they were going to destroy the android. And I didn’t want to do that to the little girl,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

The android’s brows creased, an oblivious look of confusion on his face. He watched as you opened your eyes slowly before meeting your glazed stare, “I didn’t want to take away her mom,” you explained through a wavering sigh.

The familiar feeling of pity grew heavy within Connor, the same feeling he recognized prior that day after your argument with Hank. Connor found himself with the ability to recognize human emotion and adapt to them, but failing to react to them with a tasteful response. Watching you bite back the verge of tears seconds away from pouring over, he found himself reaching out, interlocking his hand with yours.

You opened your dampened eyes at the feeling of Connor’s skin brushing against your own, his fingers laced between your own. Your heartbeat fluttered as he squeezed slightly, his leg grazing against yours in a faint but deliberate movement. A comfortable silence filled the room for a moment.

Connor parted his lips, hesitating before speaking, “Do you think she loved her?”

Your gaze fell upon him, a questioning look in your eyes, “The android, and the young girl. Do you - do you think she could love her?” he asked.

Staring at him, you nodded slightly, “Yeah,”

You watched as he blinked, looking down at the carpet beneath his feet. Your stare lingered, “What did you feel?”

His gaze raised towards you once again, “When you ‘froze’ back at the cafe last week, you said you felt something you didn’t know how to respond to,”

You barely missed the LED on his temple flash a thoughtful hue of yellow, before returning blue. Connor’s eyes looked between your own, wracking up an answer in his head. His lips parted, but no answer passed them. Your gaze flickered down to his lips, the familiar yearning for the taste of them beginning to awake. Before you could push down the restless urge, Connor leaned in, colling his lips with your own in a haste.

Your lashes fluttered as you squeezed your eyes closed, the sharp sting from your nose barely noticable past the feeling of Connor’s lips.

Connor pulled away slightly, his face inches away from your own. Neither one of you spoke, the stunned looks resting upon your features saying enough. Peering into his eyes, the android in front of you appeared more human than ever, his gaze alive and burning with emotion and his face flushed with color.

The feeling running through every circuit, biocomponent, and artificial nerve in Connor’s body was something indescribable, nothing like he’d felt before, but something he wanted to continue to feel again and again. He looked between your eyes, the flecks of color scattered beyond your blown pupils, he counted every freckle and flawed mark littered throughout your skin, every vein peeking from your tired eyes, the constellation of bruising that dispersed from the center of your nose. He analyzed every land and crevice of your face, concluding that you were anything, if not, perfect.

He released your hand, lifting his own to your cheek. His palm settled against the pooling warmth of your face, your own hand rising to cup his. You stilled as the skin disintegrated, leaving a cool, white plastic in its wake. His hand contrasted against your skin, his thumb grazing your cheek slightly as he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes.

You couldn’t help the grin that grew on your face, “So what did you feel?”

He didn’t make effort to move or answer you, his free hand making way to wrap around your waist, enveloping in your warmth. You reached up to cup his face, his curious eyes fluttering open as you pulled away.

You raised a brow, anticipating his answer. He stared at you, “You feel it too, why don’t you tell me?” he mused.

[bloodfcst-a]

BEST PICTURE NOMINEES AESTHETICS.    repost, don’t reblog. bold whatever applies. tag whoever you want and feel free to add to the categories.

THE SHAPE OF WATER.    

early mornings. art on an easel.  being trapped. flashy cars. self-righteous intolerance. speaking volumes without a word. being submerged.  learning and adapting. raindrops on windows. bubbles rising in water. cats. taboo desires. tanks of water. kitschy nostalgia. kissing underwater. silence. isolation. golden age hollywood. sign language. scales. egg shells. jell-o. the smell of cleaning supplies. creature features. the space race. red coats. monstrous fairy tales. lab coats. lunches in brown bags. the click of shoes. smog. dance routines. slices of pie. toxic masculinity. chains. government secrets. seeing past flaws. floating aimlessly. needles. greens and blues. deep, inexorable scars. gills. music from the 30′s. retro-futurism. bloody handprints. routines. record players. old movies. love in unexpected places.

PHANTOM THREAD.  

a doll in a gilded birdcage. butter to bread. the death of a mother. cycles. hidden messages. a disruptive presence.  longing. wedding gowns. posh control. post-war. brightly colored socks. inner turmoil. poison.  an air of quiet death. hallucinations. family dysfunction. rich fabrics. curses. soft piano music. restrained anger.  spinning out of control. artist and muse. dark love. pastels. peace in the countryside. clockwork dynamics. perfection. wild mushrooms. giving up every piece of yourself. rags to riches. ghosts. new year’s. lingering gazes. needle and thread. fine dining. hearing every sound. being ambushed. ego. flowing dresses. a person out of place. defiance. ink to paper. an artist tortured by their art. obsessive personalities. peepholes. soothing elegance. silk. spiral staircases. driving at high speeds. high society.

THE POST.      

typewriters. newspapers. tense climates. distrust of authority.  internal battles. a legacy at stake. secrets. cover-ups. defending what you believe. peering through windows. melodrama. political corruption.  behind closed doors. sniffing a scoop. ringing phones. lying for over a decade.  cramming and crowding. cold grays. war.  fluorescent lights. treason. shuffled papers. the jungle. a weight on your shoulders. fresh coffee. thousands of deaths.  burglary. finding your voice. risking everything. propaganda.  tough choices. exposure. type being set by hand. workplace rivalries. abusing power. security breaches. hierarchy. a bed strewn with papers and books.paranoia. orders. clicking keys. redacted files. desk clutter. cigarette smoke. precious cargo. vanished technologies. suspenseful conversations. facing charges. courtroom battles. suits and ties.

DARKEST HOUR.  

never surrendering. duty. countless negotiations. the flash of cameras. beaches. historic buildings. guzzling booze. resignation. utter catastrophe. bunkers. radio broadcasts. going against the odds. bathed in red light.  a sense of humor. allies. shouting matches.  small square windows.  selfishness. walking with a cane. war rooms. chandeliers. dust floating in air. righteousness. a poor reputation. an elevator surrounded by darkness.  a world at war. needing a miracle. interruptions. a last hope. cigar smoke. quoting poetry. photos of a loved one.  a single sunbeam. monarchy. vanity. rescue missions. refusing peace. allied chambers. military uniforms. taking a stand. common folk. suicide missions. drums of war. tears down sullen cheeks.  reluctance. complete collapse. evacuations.  enveloped by fog. changing history.  blood, toil, tears and sweat.

THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI.      

severe burns. police uniforms. sirens. the calmness of a deer.  strumming guitars. grieving. horrifying memories. sucker punches. a lack of respect. facing threats. skin under fingernails.  flicking cigarettes. awkward dates. nasty rumors. claustrophobia. lush green pastures. molotov cocktails. the fire of anger and revenge. strangers. no remorse. bashing in windows. the midwest. provoking a fight. pointing fingers. being pressed for time. rundown old houses. grey morality. dark undercurrents. insurmountable losses. cruel laughs.  the american flag. dive bars. guilty no matter what. buildings in flames. ambulances. coughing up blood. spitting. chewing on fingernails. one versus many. black and red. not understanding another’s feelings. a mother and child. the pain of others.  a quest of justice. abandoned billboards. a hardened gaze. driving to nowhere. small towns. last letters. absurd violence.

DUNKIRK.  

burying a body.  warm cider. narrow escapes. a race against time. a small boat. all hope lost. being unable to come home. taken prisoner. shipwrecks.  assuming the identity of someone else.  setting fire to it all.  smoke rising from a crash. sea foam. seaports.rendered blind. dropping to take cover. land, sea, and air. entangled in chain. toast with jam. suspense. waiting for escape. wounded men. lying in the sand. trauma. blank spaces. sinking ships. commended a hero. cocking a gun.  swallowed by darkness. bullet holes. obstacles and delays. a hero’s welcome. planes overhead. the sounds of a ticking clock. bullets ricocheting off metal. people by the thousands. shell-shocked. the explosions of shells on shores. the sound of destruction. rising tides. head injuries. target practice. compressed time and space. the perennial threat of death. oil ignited into flames. lying for the greater good.  blocking out the noise.  primal dangers. taking command. sole survivor.

GET OUT.      

deer antlers. suburbs. hypnosis. strange behavior. familial tension. chopping wood. uneasy stares. tears and a smile. deception. fight or flight.  blindness. survival. sinking into the floor. watching but powerless. strapped to a chair. plugged ears. a failed handshake. car accidents. sunken places. something out of a nightmare.  going hysterical. bingo cards. smoking cigarettes. static on a television set. doing more harm than good.  a hint of a smile. a stranger in any environment that is foreign to them. waiting for someone to come when they never will. overturned candles. wealthy garden parties. constantly looking over your shoulder. silence no matter how hard you scream. trances. catharsis. a battle of wills. layers being peeled back. a cup of tea. nosebleeds. addiction. last bits of life leaving a body. black and white photography.  sprinting at high speeds. conspiracies. surgery. blankly polite speech. noise of a spoon scraping across a teacup. a deer in headlights. staring at your own reflection. unable to sleep.  loyal friends.

LADY BIRD.        

california landscapes. budding romance. uniforms. consolation. plain and luscious colors. apologizing. boorish sex. prom dresses. secondhand dresses. strong personalities. the ups and downs of adolescence. the theatre.  being simultaneously warm and scary.  battling depression.  90’s fashion.  dreaming of elsewhere. partying. signatures on a cast. living on the wrong side of the tracks.  not being bound by any era. rejection. sparklers.  thrift stores.  high school. identity crisis. a place that looks like a memory. going behind backs.  disappointed parents. catholicism.  poverty. busy new york city streets.  monotonous hometowns. shitty bands. anarchy.  drifting in and out of friendships. menial jobs. red hair.  self-given names.  coming-of-age. a broken arm. excessive drinking. first kisses. cupcakes. smudged eye makeup. bruises gained unknowingly. strained relationships. screaming in the middle of the street. thoughtful letters. standing out. decorated bedroom walls. having a change of heart. expressing individuality.

tagged by: @breselin ( we stan tbh )

tagging: y’all just do it i’m sleepy.