#back at it again with my loser agent 8

[iowacosediments]

Octo solider bought a Yuri paddle on her shift

[royalwriteroftheuniverse]

Clint you and Bucky Stuck in a quinnjet during the holidays (ill think of a better name)

@hawkeyes-queen requested a specific holiday one with Clint and reader and Bucky. I tried to include everything you asked for. It's my first time writing for Clint so yea... I hope you like it.

Comments and reblogs welcome no reposting no publishing no translating.

Fluffy slight mention of loss of family/parents and injury. And a dead squirrel- don't ask. 18+ just in case but yea thats about it .

"Were you able to get through? "

"Yea" Clint sighs. "At least Nat is there."

"At least you don't have to wear that ugly sweater."

"Hey my kids made that sweater. And its ugly that's the whole point."

I was the of the only people outside of the avengers who knew clint had a family. They took pity on me, well rather his wife apprently after they had found out I basically didn't have a family Just because of life. Outside of other training I had approached him to learn about the bow and arrow.

"You wanna try Steve again?"

"No, besides Bucky is. Why do you keep asking me about Steve?"

"Because he kept asking me about you"

I confided in Clint a lot I felt like I could trust him and a lot of people I couldn't. So I'd gone to him for advice for a few things. Ok a bunch and his wife for girl stuff that Nat didn't know about.. He said he was more than happy to be my ipso facto family especially given the fact I had taken to the bow like a fish to water asomething that almost no other avenger incicutive agents had done. And also almost immediately hit the target. Which is exactly why he requested me for the mission. It was supposed to be in and out and he wanted another eye in the sky precision with a weapon that didn't cause noise.

"He likes you"

"No he likes that I just don't rely on hand to hand and guns." Thats only why I got so high so fast- talent and an Avenger likes you I'm not ashamed of it either. I'm taking every opportunity and as I see it I impressed him.

"Sure and he just stares at your ass because he's worried about your posture." Bucky chimes in walking over.

"That makes no sense Bucky. "

"That's exactly my point."

"You talk to Steve?"

"Yea says Hi so why didn't you want to talk to him."

"I did I tried to call." Getting defensive why I don't know

"He said you hung up"

"It was the signal- God I hate Tony so much right now."

"Why I thought you didn't like Steve?

"Because I want to be back home. Wallowing in my loser life" I gritted through my teeth

"We're not going to find you on a bridge are we"

"And give Tony the satisfaction of having to call him an angel no thanks"

"What are you two talking about?"

"It's a wonderful Life"

"So why are you concerned about her on a bridge?"

"No, It's a movie there a man on the bridge he was going to jump but an angel shows him how bad people's life would be in he didn't exist."

"So what were your Christmas traditions?" Clint asks.

It was something you never discussed with Clint he thought it was a sad subject for you something you never opened up about but once you said your birthday was never celebrated he had backed off... and made sure you had a nice one.

But since everyone was miserable here he thought he'd ask. He wasn't exactly going to ask Bucky as his last 70 years of being a brainwashed soilder probably included killing people probably didn't include presents and caroling

"Nothing."

"Nothing? No traditions not even opening up a present on Christmas even or getting a picture with Santa?"

"Nope. My parents weren't one for Christmas"

"Why" Bucky asked. Usually even if family didn't do birthday they usually didn't skip Christmas

"I'm Jewish" you shrugged.

"And now I understand." Clint answered and we all laughed a bit.

"If you ever want to come over and light candeles one day or 8...." it was something Buxky didn't speak about wither but now that he knew.....

You looked at Bucky and he smiled.

Clint was lost and lost in thought about the situation that was pressing and has been for a few weeks. More than a few.

"Buck you hungrey?" Clint nudges his head to the side

"Uh yea I am"

"Let's go get some rations"

"Don't worry about asking me boys I can get there myself even though you're going and didn't bother to even ask."

"Oh good" Clint replied "cause I don't care."

You rolled your eyes and then closed them. You weren't hungrey just appreciating the cold floor to sooth your muscles.

"Ok we gotta get those two together." Clint was over this song and dance. And what better time besides Christmas or Hanukkah for that matter. Ok Valentines day but thats a backup.

"Something tells me there's no dance halls I can send her and Steve to." Buck was used to the 40s still and was out of practice and Steve was still well Steve. If the serum enhances everything it definitely had to effect his shyness in women

"Uh no. How was Steve with Mistletoe?"

:readmore:

"You're kidding right. "

"Well I have an idea."

"Steve is comming to get us right"

"Yea he hasn't really celebrated holiday anything since well yea he volunteered."

Buck remembered he tried to get Steve to join in on his family celebrations after he lost his mother but he never took it. But bucky loved the holiday season. He'd always try and get his sister a little hair comb or necklace. He loved seeing her smile. No one had a lot of money during the depression, so it was usually one present for each, but thats what made the holidays special him and his family knew how to make the most out of the least. His sister always did the same. When she was little it had started with drawn pictures- what do you want from a kid. But it was on old homework assignment Bucky had. It had Bucky protecting her and a second one with thier mom and dad and maybe Bucky doing whatever he was into that year and then when She gotten older she was more creative. She had found a hat being thrown out for the tear in it. But she had cleaned it and was able to stick up the hole by embroidering a B with strings she found. Bucky loved that hat. She was young when she made it it wasnt a masterpiece but he had held onto it. He made a mental note to finally take it back from the Smithsonian. He missed it.

He missed Sarah Rogers bakeries too. Steve drew everyone pictures. Often it was portraits. And expertly done. He could've made money if he wanted to. He should have been able to.

"So I say we turn little miss scrooge there into a giant Mistletoe." Clint's eyes gleamed with mischief

"What?" Bucky still hasn't seen the sprint in stupid ugly outfits.

"Use her jacket And decorate her. It's on the chair and by the time Steve gets here it'l be looking like a Mistletoe tree and shell be forced to wear it and you just push Steve into her and he kisses her. Even on the cheek its a start."

Bucky just stands there blinking "Or we could trap them in a small supply closet and I won't let them out until I hear kissing but I guess yours is more festive."

Bucky runs outside to get tree branches and some berries and leaves that resemble Mistletoe and you lay there taking a nap.

The two of them are laughing thier asses off using tape to tape things on your jacket as you sleep. They also decided to add little d

Festive notes like branches they almost put a dead squirrel on there but rabies... they were definitely loosing thier minds.

Steve had called over the intercom link

That he was close to rescuing the three agents from the broken down quintet.

You still layed there peacefully with your eyes closed. Bucky kept looking at your chest to make sure you were actually breathing you were so still. You reminded him of his sister at times. Especially lying there. There was one time his sister did the same, but was lying in Steve's arms hurt. Sbe skinned your knee once because some mean kids pushed her so while Bucky pummeled them Steve comfort her. But Bucky was close enough to hear what was being said. Steve said people were being mean saying she were too weak to play ball with the boys. And Steve held her when she were crying and said "They say the same thing to me"

"But you still play ball"

"Because I'm not weak and you aren't either. Sometimes things like ball take practice and other times people are better than other but everyone can play."

Bucky remembered that so clearly for some reason. Maybe because it was around the holidays and she had given Steve, whom whe called Stevie a kiss under mistletoe that year, which Bucky saw and for a split second he was seriously considering pummeling his best friend to a pulp

It made Bucky a little homesick and a bit blue. He decided he was going to go visit his parents and sisters and then go to something for some kids. To make em smile and maybe spar with Steve to try and pummel him to a pulp.

Bucky nudged you to wake up with his foot and you let out a scream that was heard throughout the jet and over the comm.

"What happened whats going on?"

"I don't- I think uh um." Clint turned around spooked as well. His stomach dropped as he froze for a moment.

"Whose hurt"

"Rodgers theres three of us does Bucky scream like that?"

"Shit what happened"

"Language," Clint let out a chuckle to cover the worry in his voice.

"I'm serious Barton"

"I dont know she's been asleep most of the time"

"Most of the - great ok only 6 hours then. No one thought to check on her?"

"Bucky went to pick her up but the minute he put his hands on her."

"Ow ownow ow don't don't touch me please just don't" you pleaded.

The two men didn't realize how much you had injured yourself on the mission

"What hurts?"

"My toes"

"Your toes?"

"Your toes?" Clint echoed

"Yea they're the only thing that doesn't hurt. "

"Did you fall?" Bucky was trying to put the peices together while Clint was talking to Steve about landing sites and what needed to go now or could wait until later since you were obviously hurt and neither

"Sorta"

"How do you sort of fall?"

"A tree branch broke my fall" not an entire lie just it was a very small thin Charlie brown tree branch and by fall ur foot fell on the ground...when you stepped on said ground...

"Why didn't you say something"

"Adrenaline... shock... trying to ignore it and as still as possible and it worked until someone touched me."

"The cargo bay door opened and Steve instantly found your laying form on the floor"

Leaning down to your level

"Hey so we gotta get you gotta here and into the quinnJet"

"I'm in a quinn jet"

"One the works"

"Mnnn no Steve"

"Hey I got you," he said in a soft voice. "I'll be gentle, I promise." He gave you a small smile.

You groaned in pain. At being slightly lifted

"See not too bad I'll take you to the other quinnjet Buck get her a blanket will ya."

Bucky felt so bad there he and Clint were having fun while you were miserable. Thier ideas of setting you two up fell to the waist side completely forgotten.

"It's pretty cold out ok?"

You looked up at him with widened innocent doe eyes

"Ok" you responded in a smallish voice

And boy was he NOT kidding it was freezing you were really regretting this right now.

Steve went to place you down on the biobed

"No no no no." Please don't just dont make me move

"Sweetheart we gotta know whats wrong." Steve was ever so gentle even with his voice.

"I'll be ok until we get back to the tower just don't let go please Steve I'm fine I just I'll be fine enough to get home please.I know I will please?"

The tears filled your eyes. "Trust me. Were a team right we need to trust eachother"

Steve gave in. But to be fair he sorta gave in the minute you wanted to stay in his arms. The tears were a tipping point.

He held you ever so gently and stroaking your hair on the ride home.

"Why didn't you say something to them."

"I was sleeping Steve"

" I heard you scream I-"

"I'll be ok Can I sleep. "

"It's an 6 hour flight honey I really want to get you-"

"No Steve trust me that's not an issue. Just hold me"

"Ok"

He placed a soft kiss on your head.

"Get some rest you hungry though?"

"No just tired."

"Have some water a bite of a protein bar. Please."

"Come on you're kidding it can't hurt its like be 12 hours without food or water you want to be stuck in the infirmary over the holidays?" Clint provoked you. He knew you didn't. You had a practiced the perfect gingerbread house to load it up.

Bucky had helped give you some water and a protein drink as Steve held you.

Bucky and Clint were talking about the snow storm and navigation when they happened to see the reflection of Steve kissing your head in the mirror

"Did you?"

"Are they? "

"He's probably just trying to comfort her that's all it is you know how she is she loves hugs." Barton was regreatting his plan and already resigned to not going to be able to handle when Lila was a teenager

"He can handle with women who are hurt," Bucky's head cocked. "He's always been soft like that."

And so you slept in his arms most of the flight you were tired and Steve was always cozy and his heart beat had the perfect rhythm like a soothing clock. He was also humming I'll be home for Christmas even though he knew you were Jewish its not like there's a romantic Hanukkah song out there.

Around 3 hours in Bucky walked back to you and Steve as Clint was at the controls though the bad snow storm.

"Hey how's she doing."

"Terrified to be moved Buck how come you didn't notice?"

"Well I we - He knows her better."

"She said nothing and just laid there I thought it was because we asked her about holiday things. You know how she gets." Clint said

"Yea" Steve said with some sorrow knowing exactly how it feels being an orphan. Everyone is at some point but sometimes it happens when you're old enough to not have the legality of needing a guardian but too young to be ok on your own….. When that happens and you don't have anyone there... it's even worse.

Clint was thinking that too. He had learned about that and Nat trusted you and he did trust you too so after seeing you so upset, even though you hid it well he saw, everytime people brought up holidays plans to the point you'd sometimes leave the room he had a discussion with Laura and that was that you were an unofficial official Barton.

He was looking forward to the ugly Christmas sweaters the family did. The kids made you a star one it was more pretty than ugly they always do ugly sweater party and a gingerbread contest of who can make the craziest gingerbread house without it collapsing- even if it ended in a super fueled family. And making cookies for Santa. You loved being able to help Clint and Laura put presents under the tree for the kids. It was something you never did but he senses it was more than that more than- it was like you were apart of his family. Like you were his little sister he helped raise or his own child. He dreaded having to tell his kids you were hurt and couldn't come this year. Nat and Laura could help him tell them but still for the past 5 years you'd been a staple in thier family around the holidays It wouldn't be the same without you. You were his family as much as anyone else.

Getting close to the tower Steve woke up gentle by stroaking your cheek and softly kissing you on your temple. You blinked you eyes open and saw him sweetly looking down at you and smiling. For a moment you forgot where you were, outside of Cap's, no outside of Steve's arms that is.

"We're about to dock sweetheart. I got you. His hold on."

The quinjet docked less than a minute later and the cargo bay door opened

The med team was waiting and you felt so bad.

"Actually,"

You sat up and sort of jumped out if Steve's arms as much you could considering the , gentle hold he had on you "I'm good." leaving the three men in shock

"Please," you looked at Bucky and Clint "I was not going wear that monstrosity that you considered putting a dead squirrel on."

"You mean-"

"She just-"

"Damn-"

"She needs to spend less time with Natasha."

"Steve are we sparring tonight or what?" You winked.

"We're shipping out in a few-" Clint yelled out "It's like I already have an adult teenage child." He murmured to himself.

"Oh right shit Steve I need some help with something" you had to get all the presents carried and why do it when Steve can? And you can stare at his biceps as he is holding everything at once

Steve jogged up to meet you. Besids he had a bone to pick.

"You scared the shit out if me I thought I'd be spending the whole night in sickbay with you or worse"

"Nope. They wanted us to kiss. I had to do something. Otherwise they had a bad plan"

"What?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Apprently you talked too much about me to Clint!" You pinched him

"Well how else am I supposed to figure out a gift?"

"Ask me what I want you dumbell"

Steve stopped you in the hallway.

"What do you want?"

"A kiss." You smile.

"Well that I can give you right now."

Clint decided there and then he was going to lock Lila up until she was 50 years old. If he can't handle you kissing a boy, Captain America the probably nicest and most respectful guy on the earth, he's never going to be able to handle Lila and boys. Nope. He was going to lock her in her room after Christmas. He was considering even locking you in there too.

@taglist

@nana1000night @sapphire-rogers @patzammit @sparklybarbarianninja @coltrainbat

[violethursday]

Uhhh here's a W.I.P I don't plan on finishing because this is from a year ago and my OCs are vastly different now

“Great job Agent 3!” cheered Cap’n Cuttlefish as Three approached him. “Now, let’s stop DJ Octavio once and for all!”

“Sure thing, Captain,” Three replied as he took a big sigh of relief. Finally, it was over, he could go back to playing turf war with his friends and laze around without worrying if they’re any octarians behind his back.

Cuttlefish and Three carefully guided the floating platform down to the ground so they could find Octavio. When the duo reached the floor, they were greeted by a bunch of excited octarians cheering. Why are they so happy?

“What’s going on?” Cap’n Cuttlefish asked. He then decided to eavesdrop on a conversation to learn more.

“That was the greatest concert I’ve ever seen!” an octarian exclaimed to another octarian. 

“I know right? I hope DJ Octavio does this again!” the other octarian replied back.

“Uh…” Cuttlefish questioned in confusion as he was trying to find words to say.

“Just…don’t mind them,” Three remarked as they saw Octavio in the distance.

Octavio was still lying on the floor after being splatted by Three, but two octarians were chatting with him. One looked as old as the Squid sisters; she was wearing a simple purple kimono and had her dull red hair styled up fancy. The other one though wasn’t fully grown yet; she was wearing a simple red kimono.

So the two octarians are meant to be Octavio's granddaughters, but now they're sorta fused into one character AKA Octavia AKA my Agent 8. Surprisingly Agent 3 is calm in this one because my version of Agent 3 at the time was a cocky loser.

[slowly-writing]

Short

Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader

Avengers x Romanoff!Reader

Word count: 1.4K

Requested by anon: Little widow is super short and all the avengers find it adorable.

A/N: as someone who is 5’11” (180cm) I did the best I could with this one. I apologize if it’s not very accurate 

“Woah! Let me grab that, y/n,” Steve says as he wraps one arm around your waist, the other hand grabbing the box of granola bars you were climbing for.

“I almost had it,” you whine as he sets you down.

“Yeah sure. Almost had a concussion is more like it,” Tony teases and you glare.

“I had everything under control. I was almost tall enough to reach it,” you cross your arms over your chest and your mom coughs to cover a laugh.

“You were balancing on a stool that was teetering on one leg on your…” she pauses to pick up the book, “biology textbook. Great, glad you’re getting some use out of that.”

“Yeah well, it won’t tell me why I haven’t hit my growth spurt yet, so at least it’s good for something,” you shrug, grabbing it from her hands and shoving it in your bag.

“Kid, don’t you think you’re a little old-“

“Don’t!” You cut Tony off. “I am not too old for a growth spurt. I don’t care how old I am. I refuse to be 5’1 for the rest of my life.”

“Alright,” he raises his hands in surrender and you roll your eyes.

“Whatever. I’m gonna be late for school.”

“Have a good day,” your mom calls.

“Try not to get mistaken for a freshman again,” Clint’s words are acknowledged by way of you flipping him off as you make your way out the door.

xxxxx

“Here,” Peter appears behind you, grabbing the textbook you were jumping for.

“Thanks,” you grumble and he grins.

“Are you sure you don’t want to switch lockers? It’s killing my back to crouch down to the lower ones anyway. Jumping doesn’t seem like the most effective use of your locker,” he offers for the tenth time and you shake your head.

“I’m fine! I can reach it all!”

“Yeah when I use my powers for you,” Wanda’s voice calls and you turn, glaring.

“Whole lot of help you were this morning. Steve’s convinced I almost broke my neck climbing for my breakfast,” you whine and she chuckles, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“My deepest apologies. I’ll just skip my morning training with Agent Hill. I’m sure that would go over just fine,” she teases and you roll your eyes, leaning into her nonetheless.

“You just gotta get on her good side. I get to do my training after school instead of before,” you smirk and she rolls her eyes.

“That’s because she’s known you since you were three and therefore treats you like family. Not an agent,” Wanda retorts and you just shrug.

“Ya know, it’s  the 21st century,” Peter’s still stuck on the previous topic and you shake your head. “I don’t think scavenging for food is supposed to be a life threatening process anymore. Cause like, evolution and all that,”

“Well y/n’s evolution didn’t get the message,” Wanda responds and you smack both their shoulders.

“You guys suck,” you whine and Wanda laughs.

“We’re only teasing, love. You’re adorable. We have to tease you to compete for some attention. You’re too cute to look away from.” You eye Wanda for a few moments.

“I can’t tell if that was supposed to be patronizing or not, but it’s too early to analyze all that, so I’m gonna go with thank you as my response,” you tell her, standing up on your toes and pulling her down by the collar of her shirt to kiss her cheek.

“You can’t even reach your girlfriend's face to kiss her,” Peter chokes out through a laugh.

“At least I have a girlfriend,” you try to jab back but he brushes right over it.

“Say, have you ever been on a roller coaster before? Or do you not measure up yet?” He says and you lunge for him. He quickly places a hand on your forehead, holding you back where your arms can’t reach him. You can feel your cheeks heat up as Wanda tries her best to hide her laugh behind you. You hit his elbow, making his arm buckle, and pull it over your shoulder. You use his weight against him as he stumbles forward and throw him over your shoulder.

“Holy shit,” Wanda breaths out.

“How the hell did you do that?” Peter asks as he catches his breath and you shrug.

“Did you forget who my mom is? I learned how to do that when I was 8. We were literally talking about my training like 30 seconds ago,” you call over your shoulder as you take Wanda’s hand and pull her to class.

xxxxxx

What’s up losers?” Mj asks as she joins your group.

“We’re thinking about heading to the tower to study for the geometry test next week, wanna come?” Peter asks, unphased by MJ’s snarkiness. Loser is pretty much a term of endearment in her book.

“Plus it’s movie night  if you guys wanna crash it. Fair warning though, it’s Steve’s turn to pick so it’ll probably be old as hell,” you add in and Ned nods.

“Sounds awesome! I’ll watch an old movie if it means hanging with the avengers!” His enthusiasm brings a smile to your face, though it’s quickly knocked off as MJ uses your head as an armrest.

“I’m in,” she says and you glare up at her, elbowing her in the ribs.

“Too bad, you’re not invited anymore,” you say angrily and she laughs.

“Anyone else feel like they’re being yelled at by a middle schooler when she’s mad?” She teases again and Wanda quickly wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling your back into her chest.

“But she doesn’t fight like a middle schooler, Peter learned that the hard way this morning. So let’s lay off before someone ends up with a black eye, alright?” Wanda says calmly and you sink into her embrace. You grab one of her hands from where they’re laced together by your chest and start playing with the rings on her fingers.

“I don’t look like a kid,” you mumble and you feel Wanda place a kiss on the top of your head.

“Of course you don’t” she reasures you.

“Yeah, totally. The whining totally helps your case Romanoff,” Peter adds and you glare as you all make your way out of the school.

xxxxx

“Race to the movie room?” Peter suggests and Ned frowns.

“But y/n’s like, short as hell, no offense,” he says and you laugh at his innocent look, “how is that fair.”

“Don’t worry Ned. I’ll manage,” you say before Peter takes off everyone else following suit. THey weave around the furniture and you smirk, placing your hand on the back of the sofa and throwing yourself over it. One foot lands on the coffee table and you use it to push off of, grabbing the pull up bar in the doorway that Steve insisted needed to be in the common room (you still think it’s cause he likes to show off) and doing an elegant flip, laning in front of the door to the movie room with a bow.

“Seriously, how the hell do you do that kind of stuff?” MJ asks, slightly out of breath, but still smiling since she beat Peter.

“What part of ‘raised by an assassin’ isn’t clicking for you guys?” you ask and a voice behind them draws their attention.

“Hey, I stopped being an assassin long before I started raising you,” your mom argues and you just shrug.

“Doesn’t make you any less paranoid or scary. You’re the one who insisted I needed to know how to defend myself, so I’m simply reaping the benefits,” you say with a grin, leaning into Wanda who is rolling her eyes at your antics.

“I seem to remember you begging me to train you so you could go on missions,” your mom counters with a raised eyebrow. Before you can respond Tony’s voice comes from the room you just vacated.

“Why the hell is there a footprint on my table?” He yells and you all freeze.

“Maybe if we’re quiet he won’t know we’re here?” Ned whispers, but even he sounds unsure of the plan.

“I can see the pile of backpacks by the elevator. When I find out whose foot was on my table they’re grounded. I don’t care if you’re not my children,” Tony yells again.

“Race you to...anywhere but here!” you whisper-yell before taking off, the four teenagers hot on your trail as your mom rolls her eyes behind you.

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnightdaily-blog @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx 

[infernal-fire]

I love your dark Jake Jensen and I have a request for him, so the team gets in contact with reader for supplies for a mission an Jensen feels a spark between them so he makes every excuse to talk to reader to the point the team teased but helps him out with his grand scheme to get with reader but they don't know how far he'd go to make reader his ☺️💕 thanks

I love a good dark!jake fic!! I have changed the specifics a litttllle bit so i hope this is alright :)

Warnings: implied noncon/dubcon, some creepy behaviour, mention of stalking, drugging, mention of breeding kink

Summary: 5 days; that’s how long it takes him to become fixated on you.

Wc: 2k 

You’re My Delusion

They could have gone to any supplier. Fate would have it that Aisha wanted you, and only you. 

The melodious tune of a piano ringtone chimed in your bag. You ask the other daycare teacher to take over for you and picked up the phone: Unknown Number. You watched the phone ring until the line went dead and resumed your day. 

It may have been an ‘unknown number’, but your subconscious unequivocally knew who it was. Grumbling at the thought of being contacted again, you twisted the handle to your condo. Of course, you didn’t bat an eye when there was an envelope on your countertop, one that you didn’t put there; Aisha knew that you knew the phone would ring again, and if you didn’t answer, she would pay you a visit.

When Unknown Number flashed across your screen for the second time that day, you considered letting it go to voicemail again, but picked up anyway. 

“Aisha.”

“Y/N.”

“If you’re gonna ask me for an assist-”

Aisha cut you off. “I know you don’t do missions anymore. We need a safe house that’s off the books.”

“Who’s we?”

“They’re all men.” As if on cue, you heard someone guffaw in the background. “It’s making me lose my goddamn mind,” she elucidated. 

“You know I don’t really do this stuff anymore,” you huffed, “But I’m making an exception this one time. For you.” You could hear Aisha let out a squeal of happiness, and realized how bad it must be if she uncharacteristically showed excitement.

//

While cleaning up your old warehouse-turned-safehouse, Aisha’s words echoed in the back of your head. “Some of them are a little... bulky. Let them sleep on the floor.” You tried to protest, asking her, what’s the point of a safehouse if they aren’t resting well, but she dismissed the question. “Trust me. They’re nothing more than cavemen.”

It was 4 AM; foot tapping impatiently and sipping on the third coffee of the night, you smacked your forehead in frustration. It was way past bedtime. After living alongside Aisha for years, anyone would appreciate nights that consist of 8 hours of sleep. 

You could certainly appreciate it. Being a daycare teacher, living in a civilian condominium and not engaging in government work was something you couldn’t take for granted. Not after all the shit you’ve seen. 

3 brusque knocks sounded on the metal door to your right. Your head snapped to the source, waiting for Aisha to call out the code word. 

“LOSERS!” a voice hollered from the other side. You trudged to the door, trying to shake off the dizziness that came with standing up too fast. 

Opening the door with caution, you had only blinked a few times before a body pulled you into a tight embrace.

“You’re never this excited to see me. That bad, huh,” you sneered. 

“You have no idea.” Aisha pulled out of the hug and turned to face the men who had lined up nearby. 

“So… who’s this?” The guy with dirty blonde hair, nerd glasses and a horrible sense of fashion piped up. His whole appearance was an oxymoron to his build - muscles protruded out of the bright pink shirt that hugged him like a second skin. On the other hand, you couldn’t imagine him as anything more than a harmless golden retriever.

“Don’t ask as if you don’t know Jensen,” Aisha groused. You could practically hear her roll her eyes. 

“What’s your name, darling?” another guy spoke. He exuded the energy of a leader; you looked him straight in the eyes and gave him your name. 

The golden retriever repeated your name as if to try out the taste of it on his tongue. You gave him a lopsided, close-mouthed smile and asked Aisha for her teammates’ names. 

“You don’t need to learn their names.” She stalked off, unwilling to be a part of the conversation any longer. 

The guy you had assumed was the leader sighed at her attitude before introducing himself as ‘Clay’. He pointed at each person and gave you their titles. 

“Okay so you’re Clay, that’s Cougar, Roque,” you skipped over Jake, “and Pooch.” 

“Me?” Jake softly inquired.

The rest of the team began picking up their things and walking away, but not before Pooch nudged Jensen with his shoulder and winked. The puppy-like man flushed in response and rubbed the nape of his neck.

“What about you?” you asked once you were alone. 

“You didn’t say my name.” 

“I know it’s Jake… but can I call you ‘daddy’ instead?” 

He froze up, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Relax Jakey,” you put a hand on his chest, “I’m only teasing.” You winked and strutted away, snickering to yourself at how he looked like he was about to pass out.

The entire team was trying to egg you and Jensen on. Well, not the entire team. 

Aisha and Roque couldn’t care less, and Cougar did nothing more than smirk at your playful banter. 

Often, Jensen would start a conversation that would escalate quickly, your witty dialogue interrupting his rationale. You thought it was adorable how he didn’t know how to respond; a guy like him could have fantastic game, but he was too much of a sweetheart, not the mention, way too awkward. 

One particular night, you let down your guard, just enough to actually get to know him. 

“You seem like a really supportive uncle,” you commented at his excitement for his niece’s next soccer game. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. I wish my parents would have done this for me.”

“Done what?”

“You know… Tell me they’re proud of me.”

“Well Jake... I think you should know, that I’m proud of you for everything you’re doing for the country.”

Jake looked up at you, sporting the signature look of the uncertainty of how to respond. It didn’t take a genius to be able to tell that he wasn’t used to being praised. 

“Thank you. That means a lot more than you know,” he quietly responded. 

The rest of the night was spent in a solemn, yet understanding silence, one that both of you were oddly comfortable with. 

Unfortunately, that would also be the last time you saw him. 

Or so you think. 

The mission went sour, and for the first time since retirement, you wished you had assisted. Maybe if you assisted, the mission wouldn’t have gone south. Maybe if you assisted... you would have been able to say goodbye. 

Without even realizing it, Jake had burrowed a little hole into your heart. You hoped life could go on with the little leak in your pump. Regardless, there is no time for sulking; after all, no amount of reminiscing would change the way things happened.

It had been months after Aisha and the team went back into hiding but you were faring well. Life as you knew it had continued without a trace of the burly, soft man-baby. You almost forgot about the ordeal, up until that day. Perhaps it was fate that had you switch the TV on at that time. You would never know.

A team of rogue CIA agents, presumed to be dead, have now infiltrated a crime branch operating within the US government. They have been pardoned from their status as “Enemies of State” but can no longer work for the CIA taskforce, as their identities have been indefinitely compromised. 

You blinked at the screen, watching Aisha’s name and picture appear. Subsequently, there was Clay, Pooch, Jensen, Cougar and Roque. You were happy for them.

Pooch could go back home to his wife. It was hard to imagine what it must have been like for the missus; pregnant and alone. Though you didn’t know Pooch that well, you knew he was a good partner and husband. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your front door shutting and clicking in place. Your hand frantically pressed the ‘volume up’ button on the TV as you hurled for the handgun under your pillow. 

Sliding to the wall beside the door, you cautiously peered into the dark hallway and made out a large figure. You huffed quietly before appearing in the doorframe with your gun pointing straight at the mystery guy. At this point, you had a good idea of who it was, but you wanted to mess with him anyway. “Hands up, and not another step forward.” 

He tried to speak, but you cut him off. 

“Don’t. speak,” you punctuated each word. Reaching for the light switch, you flipped on the hallway light. The dim light revealed your golden retriever standing there with his eyes wide open in fear. 

“Don’t shoot?” he said, like a question. 

You grinned and tucked the gun into your waistband.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I should come see you.” 

“You could have knocked, like a normal person.”

He shrugged sheepishly. 

“How do you know where I live?” you questioned. To that, he fiddled with his fingers and looked down. 

“Only Aisha knows this place. And I know she would have never told you.” You intently stared at him while leaning into the nearest wall and folding your arms.

Jake didn’t want to tell you that he had been stalking you. Every spare moment he had during the remainder of the mission was spent tracking you. After a few weeks, it felt as though you had moved on. It pained him, to say the least.

“I- uhm,” he looked up at you and took a step forward, “Hey, I just-...” He stopped when you reached for your handgun again, now wary of his intentions.

He put his hands back up. 

“I wanted to ask you out properly.”

“What do you mean ‘properly’? We were never going out, to begin with.”

Before you understood the spur of movement, Jake lunged for you and plucked the handgun out of your pyjama’s waistband, throwing it over the railing of your staircase. You tried to kick him, but he pricked you without giving you a moment to react. 

“What did you give me?” You clutched your neck in the spot he sunk the needle. 

“I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to do that,” he exhaled. He tried to hold you, but you weakly pushed him off, still trying to recover from the shock of his betrayal. 

“Takes 5 minutes to really work,” he scratched his neck. 

Then there was the fight. You gave it your all but with no weapon or leverage, you were going up against 200 pounds of pure muscle who was hell-bent on restraining you for some reason. 

2 minutes into the fight, you began to really feel the effects of whatever he gave you. He point-blank caught a punch that you tried to drill into his sternum. You look up at him incredulously, unable to still believe that he was trying to take you down right now. 

At last, he snapped. 

“Listen to me,” he grasped both your hands.

You momentarily struggled, but your shoulders slumped and you gave up on trying to free your wrists. 

“How could you move on without me?” he asked, attempting to look you in your eyes. You wouldn’t meet them. 

“Jake, you are delusional! I barely had a crush on you for 5 days,” you cried, letting the wetness spread over your cheeks freely. At this point, it was clear, what he was here for. 

“You should know, those 5 days were some of the best in my 29 years of living. I want that for the rest of my life.”

“Why couldn’t you have done this like a normal person?” You finally met his eyes with an excess of tears blurring your vision. 

“You keep saying that,” he began, letting go of your arms and wiping your tears, “but you know that you and I are not normal.” Jake leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

Your legs were beginning to buckle, but Jake caught you, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He strode into your bedroom as if he had been there a thousand times, put you down on the bed gently, and brushed the hair out of your face. 

Here we have Sergeant Linwood ‘Pooch’ and his wife reuniting. It is the first time he has seen her since his last mission, before disappearing. It is also the first time he will be seeing his child. Definitely, an emotion reun-

Your captor turned off the TV and turned to smile at you.

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” he asked, but seemed as if he were talking to himself. 

You couldn’t respond, all your muscles now refusing to attend to your demands. Instead, more tears streaked down your face. 

“A baby,” he whispered, “Yes, that would be nice.”

Masterlist

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[hunni-pen]

KINTOBER DAY 8: BAKUGOU/READER

Warnings: light quirk play.

Kinks: Hatefucking/rough, if yuh squint fisting

Notes: cracks my kunckles* I’ve been waiting for this one. Turning it up!

Word count: 1.3k

For the most part, your relationship with Katsuki was very good. He adored you, treated you like a goddess. He always catered to your needs, and you his, and the sex life was even better.

Up until recently. For the past two weeks you and Katsuki had been fighting nonstop. Over the smallest things! Dirty dishes, dinner, hero reports, who took all the hot water in the shower. And yea that last one insinuates that the two of you were so tense that you’d definitely argue in the shower.

Now what was causing all this tension? Well, your PR agent, yes the man who controls how the public perceives yours and Katsukis relationship, asked you on a date, in front of Katsuki. You had jokingly played along.

That was until Katsuki got butt hurt and started an argument about it. Declaring that you should fire your PR agent and hire a woman. So you responded “what do you could date her behind my back.” Way to go petty ass queen.

Of course that comment caused him to almost blow up. He had blinked at you once, then all at once snatched his pillow and left the room. So things had been on edge.

It wasn’t any better even two weeks later, the two of you had left the Friday hero meeting where you’d chosen to spite him by sitting next to Deku. The poor little guy was quaking during his report from the sheer force of Katsukis glare.

So the car ride home was very stale. But as soon as the door was closed Katsuki was already interrogating you about the whole scene. His jealousy was overbearing and so you covered your ears and walked to the bedroom.

This obviously irritated him to no end. Thus the name calling began. Finally you swing around right as he shouted, “you are acting like such a whore!”

Your jaw dropped, never in the year and a half that you had been dating the Bakugou Katsuki, he had never, never, called you a whore, at least outside of the bedroom.

“So I’m a whore now? Is that the conclusion you’ve come to? You are a nagging overbearing peace of shit! I can’t have my own life without you somewhere in it!” Your voice raised in pitch and volume surprisingly fast.

“You are so fucking insecure about yourself that you can’t even trust me! How am I supposed to be with someone like that?”

“Then we should just break up right?”

The room went dead silent and you took this time to realize how close to two of you were. Pushed up against the hallway wall, your noses almost touching. His eyes bared down on you with ferocity.

You smirked tilting your head back to rest against the wall. “You couldn’t break up with me if your life depended on it.”

Katsuki sucked in a breath and suddenly his lips were pressed hard against yours, and you kissed him back. He forced your arms against the wall your body following to fully hit the walls

He growled into the kiss, “I just want to fuck the shit out of you.”

“Are you sure you wanna fuck a whore?” You nipped his lip as he pulled away.

“Yeah, I want to fuck your brains out whore.”

He hooked his arms under your thighs and lifted you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist and he slammed you back into the wall. Lips already crashing with yours. You barely had time to respond before he was working his way down your neck.

You gasped and grabbed his hair when you felt his actual teeth hook onto your skin. You gave it a pull, your brow furrowing in pain. Yet oddly enough you wanted to squeeze your thighs together in pleasure.

“Just say you want me to fuck you,” he groaned into your neck.

You pressed a slow kiss to the shell of his ear, whispering, “please fuck me.”

He pulled your bodies off the wall, marching to the bedroom where he tossed you on the bed. You immediately scrambled to toss your shirt off and unbutton your pants. Katsuki took his time with his buttons. Letting his pants drop and yanking his shirt over his head.

He grabbed you by your ankles and yanked you to the end of the bed. “You don’t even know what’s coming to you.”

You helped him slide out of your panties and he attached his lips to your entrance. He immediately slipped his tongue inside of you before licking a stripe all the way up to your clit. Your legs shook from the pleasure you received just from that one movement .

“I’m gonna fuck your better than those losers could dream, cause I am better than them. I’ll always be better than them, and I’ll have you screaming about it.” He was glaring up at you and you couldn’t help but glare right back.

“Like hell you could,” you responded back.

His hands that gripped your sides began to heat up and small prickling pops erupted on. Your skin. You obviously struck a nerve, his nails digging into your skin as he went back to fucking you with his mouth. His nails scratched down your leg before he inserted two.

He hovered over your body, pumping his fingers in and out at a fast pace for just beginning. Watching with cruel amusement as your face contorted and your mouth fell open a moan forcing its way out.

“Look at you, practically shouting from just two fingers. Let’s see what happens when I add one more.” He inserted another one, curling them up to press against your g-spot.

“Shit,” you gasped as he pumped them in and out at a faster pace. “Katsuki, s-slow down.”

“Why? I thought you wanted to be fucked. So I’m gonna fuck you.”

“You’re just going too fast.”

“Then, we’ll slow down, but we’ll add another finger.” He pulled the three fingers all the way out and groaned as he watched your dripping cunt completely swallowing the fingers. “Oh shit baby, you’re almost at a whole fist. Let’s just add the last finger.”

You started to sit up, “n-no Katsuki, no, no, no,” he added his thumb and you suddenly squeezed around his fist. You tried to blink back your tears, moaning his name loudly.

A few slow pumps of his fist had you cumming all over his hand and he pulled out. Completely ignoring the mess he flipped you on your stomach. Shoving his cock inside you without warning and immediately fucking you into the bed.

You squealed, grabbing the sheets with all your strength. Katsuki growled and groaned behind you. While you tried your hardest not to cum again so soon. The mixing of all this pain and pleasure you were currently receiving was sending your brain into overdrive.

Drool falling down your chin, a pained whine emitting from your agape mouth as your ass received an especially hard slap smoke coming from Katsukis hands.

“Look at you, making such slutty faces. Am I fucking you well?”

“Yes,” you choked out.

“Who’s fucking you so hard huh?”

“Y-you!”

“Who is?”

“You Katsuki,” you cried, another orgasm causing you to tighten around him. He groaned loudly, not expecting the sudden tightness. Yet he kept going.

You were so overstimulated it hurt. Every thrust caused another cry to come from your mouth, till he was spilling his load completely inside you.

He pulled out and you flopped down. Rolling on your side and curling up. That actually hurt a lot. Your cervix would probably be bruised for a while unless you got hurt at work and found an excuse to get healed up by the pros.

The bed creaked and he headed to the bathroom. Surprisingly he came back with a warm wet towel. Kindly wiping you down entirely.

You sniffled as he finished, “Katsuki, we really have to make this relationship thing work.”

“I know,” he murmured, he grabbed you and pulled you close.

“But you need to put more faith in me. I only have eyes for you. It’s the truth,” you exclaimed, getting more fired up.

“I’ll work on it.”

“I’ll hold ya to that.”

————

There may be a lot of errors at the end but I’m literally falling asleep.

[hansolmates]

cherry contact |🍒

summary: jihoon has access to all versions of you - your credit score, shopping habits, work emails, even your terrible tinder history. pairing; fbi agent!jihoon x civilian!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, crack, it’s really just that “your fbi agent” meme that caused everyone 8 years ago to put tape over their webcams, questionable viewing habits for an fbi agent, language, dick talk, mentions of sex, jihoon has feelings and is confused, he is a PINER, tw—sexual harassment  w/c; 3.3k  a/n; i can’t believe i finished this😭😭 part of meraki’s job collaboration and i’ve been dying to do a svt collab since the dawn of time and finally today’s the day! it’s been a hot moment since i’ve written for jihoon, glad i managed to get those svt writing muscles going! a huge thank you to @merakiiverse​ and @woozisnoots​ for putting this together. readers pls definitely check back on the masterlist linked above to see more of the other talented cwc writers and their rendition of the job prompt!

if you like this fic please consider giving it a like n’share!🤓🖥🤓🖥

“Kevin, 32, works at Kodak,” you scroll further to the description, “I love being tied up and need a dominatrix, have swing at home—no.” Swipe right. 

“Lisa, 24, works at Infinity Dance Studio,” you definitely are weak for athletic ladies, “My hobbies include cuticle care and online shopping! Looking for a sugar daddy or mommy that can spoil me rotten—definitely can’t afford that kind of relationship.” Swipe right. 

“Hansol, 26, works in an art museum,” sounds promising, you love art, “wait, why are all his pictures of him holding fish? Is he inside a fish? Who the heck finds that attractive?” Swipe right. 

“Billiam, 31, works in finance. Needs a bratty baby girl who can triangle,” you grimace, “what is with these guys and stating their kinks from the get-go? Gotta take a girl out to dinner first, and the fuck is a triangle?” 

You swore off Tinder since the dark ages, also known as senior year of college. However you’re in a particular slump, thirst-trapped between needing some serious dick and a committed relationship. You’d prefer the latter, but after a stressful day at work and the fact that it’s the ass crack o’dawn, you’ll take what you can get. 

“Bye Billiam,” you sing-song into your phone, moving to swipe right. 

Except you accidentally drop your phone between your sheets, and when you pick it up you accidentally swipe left. 

“Fuck fuck fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget!” you cry out into oblivion. You’re so glad you live alone at the very least, it stops you from looking like a crazy person when you talk your potential sexipades out. 

Billiam has Super-liked you! 

“No. Nononono—” you bludgeon your head against your pillow, frowning when your phone opens up a chat for you and Billiam. 

Billiam: hi can u check if my dick is too small

You: please, don’t send me a picture of your dick. 

Billiam is typing… 

You: for fuck’s sake—

“—that’s disgusting,” Jihoon curses, and immediately sends out the screenshot for sexual harassment. 

“What’s disgusting?” Mingyu chimes, swiveling in his spinny chair from his side of the room.

“Don’t look,” Jihoon gags, reaching for a bottle of Coca-Cola from the mini-fridge. “You’ll throw up your fried chicken.” 

“My person is a twenty-one year old nympho who also happens to be a incel,” Mingyu chastises to his screen, closing up the eighth tab of BBC porn he’s seen this week, “he doesn’t know how well he’s avoiding the FBI’s eyes,” Mingyu shakes his head, “so I’ve seen some pretty bad shit, but I’ll take your word for it.” 

“No,” he echoes your name like you’ve done the most heinous thing in the world, “no, no! Why would you swipe left on Jackson? You’re way out of his league! He literally looks like he has a pea-sized brain!” 

“He does look like he has half a brain cell,” your voice reverberates through his noise-cancelling headphones, unknowingly agreeing to Jihoon’s passionate throw of anger, “but I’m deprived and desperate, so!” 

It’s like you can hear his sentiments exactly. 

“Literally, you could have any person you want,” Jihoon chastises through his desktop, glaring heavily at your bedroom camera, “you’re wasting your time with these losers!” 

Oblivious, you let yourself dangle across the bed. The camera isn’t the best quality, but Jihoon watches intently at the rise and fall of your chest as you attempt to fall into a fitful sleep. 

“Some yell at screens for soccer,” Minghao says to the air from his cubicle, “some yell for Starcraft, but Jihoon yells for Tinder like it’s an Olympic sport.” 

“Jihoonie,” Mingyu rolls around his chair, resting a long arm over the backrest, “do you have a crush on your civilian?” 

Jihoon immediately swivels around his hair, meeting the amused eyes of Mingyu. “No,” he says sharply, whipping around to glare at his screen. 

He glares harder the longer Mingyu’s simple question sinks in. He doesn’t have a crush on you, he likes you. Jihoon swallows his sigh, wondering why you would want to go as low as Tinder to look for a potential tryst. From your profile, you’re absolutely beautiful and intelligent. You have simple pleasures that match his—a hot cup of tea right after dark, snuggling under a weighted blanket while watching anime, and sleeping in on Sundays.

Unlike him, you don’t see the world through half a dozen lenses and a plethora of information right at your fingertips. No, you’re lucky. 

“Hey can you grab me my water bottle?” Mingyu asks over his shoulder. 

Jihoon thinks nothing of it, leaving his post for the thirty seconds it takes to get to the mini-fridge and grab Mingyu’s Hydroflask. 

“You got a call,” Mingyu says when he plops the bottle on his desk, indicating to the red blinker on Jihoon’s computer. 

It isn’t until he puts on his headphones does he take care to see why his blinker is going off. 

He’s getting an incoming call. From you. 

You’ve been waiting on the line for about two minutes. He lets two additional minutes breeze by because Jihoon is internally screaming. You’re calling again. There’s a fire blazing in his brain, his fingers hot as he twitches against the spacebar of his keyboard. 

From the monitor he can see that you’ve given up on sleep, hands pawing through your drawer so you can take a final swipe at your magenta-tinted lip balm before nesting yourself in the sheets. You’re kicking around as if you don’t have work at 9AM, smacking your lips to apply the shiny salve while you wait for your call to be picked up. 

“Why is my civilian calling me,” it isn’t a question, it’s a thinly veiled indication that Jihoon is ready to fight whoever compromised him like this. 

Mingyu and Minghao fail to answer. That’s okay, he isn’t opposed to killing both if neither fess up. 

It would be so easy for him to ignore the call, or redirect it to another part of the office. Yet he aches to talk to you, for real talk to you. As if you’re just two regular plain-old human beings with normal lives, and as if he didn’t know every nook and cranny about your daily routine and your favorite breakfast foods.

Call it pride, call it confidence, but Jihoon’s been pretty good at games and he hopes prior experience helps him get over this hurdle. Slipping on his headset, he accepts the call and answers in a controlled voice, “This is the local hotline for sexual harassment reports, are you here to report a case?” 

Okay, so this is the closest thing he can get to having a full-fledged conversation with you, so he’ll take it. 

“Hi,” you mumble your name into the phone, and he nearly disintegrates right then and there. It’s different when he can hear your voice directly in his ears, definitively reaching out to him as opposed to being a fly on the wall, “I received an email that a report was sent out for my previous chat as sexual harassment, but I didn’t send out a report.” 

“Yes,” Jihoon replies smoothly, tapping his nails against his thighs, “it’s a new update.” 

“Oh, well thank you,” you reply, and Jihoon sees from the camera that you’re staring at your phone in curiosity. 

“It’s my job,” he says, and the words hold more weight than you think, “are you okay?” 

“Is it also your job to ask how I’m doing?” 

He smiles wryly, and he looks up at the monitor to see how you’ve considerably relaxed on your bed. Your legs dangle in the air, and you’re hugging a mango plushie with all the love in the world. “Not really, but I figured I’d ask. I don’t think I’d be able to recover from a dick that looks like an unhinged toenail.” 

Your laugh flutters in his ears, and his stomach is flip-flopping with more than just his shitty ramen lunch. Your face curls and wrinkles into happiness at the lewd joke, and you rest your chin on your stuffed fruit. 

“I’m okay,” you finally answer, “it’s not the first time I’ve seen subpar dick. But thank you… what’s your name?” 

“Uji,” he says, a codename that he considers as precious as his actual name, “feel free to call or text this number if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable and in distress.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, good night Uji.” 

“Good night.” 

That wasn’t so bad, Jihoon thinks as he hangs up the phone. He dims the monitors to let you freshen up and get ready for bed, as per your schedule. After tonight, he hopes he can be sated with his curiosity of you. Maybe he needs to follow your plans and open up a dating account or something, he feels that he’s starting to get a little too engrossed in your presence. 

The waning starts today. 

You: help, i’m feeling uncomfortable and in distress

Uji: what is it this time? 

You: i can’t decide which weighted blanket i should get. Will more weight make me feel more comforted or will i accidentally suffocate myself in my sleep? 

The waning of you did not start that night, in fact it never began. Jihoon’s been on edge for weeks, simultaneously teetering between what he calls the high-school equivalent of the talking stage and an absolute catastrophe. 

It started as an accident, you meant to call your friend’s number for cooking help but since the last call before your friends was his, you called Jihoon instead. To your surprise, he knew how to roll out homemade pasta without a pasta machine. You kept him on the call for the entirety of dinner preparation, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride when your pasta turned out perfect and you were happy and full for the entire night. 

Weeks later, and you’ve been texting each other for shits and giggles. At first you chalk up your insistence that he’s basically Human Google and has the answers to seemingly anything and everything, but over time it seems that you enjoy your daily interactions with him. Whether it be a simple phone call asking how to unclog your drain or a screenshot comparing two different KitchenAids, he’s at your disposal. 

The burner phone he’s been holding as of late is on silent, but he’s able to pick it up immediately. It’s almost intuition, coupled with the way he notices whenever you seem in a pickle and you need to contact him. However he does not have a chance to formulate a reply, as you’re now calling him.

“Couldn’t wait?” he speaks as if you’re familiar with each other, as if you’re friends. Jihoon longs for that so much, he would love to be upgraded to someone other than the IT guy you text for funsies. 

“Yes,” you say, voice laced with determination, “I’m deciding on whether to just like or Super-Like this guy on Light a Flame.” 

Jihoon deflates a little, but steels himself. You’d never want to go on a date with the IT guy, it seems that you enjoy the anonymity of your recent communications. Your conversations are definitely meme-worthy. 

“Who is it?” 

“His name’s Lee Jihoon, 25, works in the FBI.” 

He chokes on his coffee, precious beans from Argentina, and the liquid is flying across his keyboard. 

Pulling up your phone view, it confirms the worst. In a moment of Weakness with a capital W, Jihoon had caved and made a Light a Flame profile the other night. It’s an app reserved for more serious relationships, which means you’ve finally graduated from Tinder. 

“Are you okay?” he wants to cry when he hears you on the other line, genuinely panicked. “Do you need me to send you his profile?” 

“N-no,” he sputters, rubbing a rough napkin from McDonalds over his dripping chin. He thought he privated his profile last week after he realized there was nothing he could do to let loose of you. Turns out that isn’t the case, because you’re currently pursuing his profile and actually kinda-sorta considering him for a potentially serious relationship. 

“C’mon, Uji,” you tease lightly, “you always seem to know what to do. This is your area of expertise after all, since you work for that kind of department.” 

What should he do, scratch that, what can he do? It’s a complete violation of policy to be fraternizing with his civilian life. Sure, there has been episodes of civilians and agents meeting each other, but only minor violations that both parties forgot about shortly after. He’s so far deep at this point, he can risk being relocated or losing his civilian—losing you. 

“Do you think he really works in the FBI?” you say when he doesn’t reply immediately, “he’s really cute, though. Totally looks like my style, and he likes My Hero as well! C’mon, I just need for you to check as to whether he’s a homicidal maniac or a compulsive liar.” 

Liar. He’s a liar. 

That self-accusation prompts him to slump in defeat, and he mumbles in the phone, “I don’t think he’s worth it. I’d say pass.” 

“Hey, Coups has seniority,” Soonyoung pats Jihoon thoughtfully on the back with one hand, and grilling meat with the other. Barbeque always lifted up Jihoon’s spirits. “Why don’t you give it a chance and meet her for real? And then he can give me your super cute civilian and then he can give my shitty civilian to some newbie.” 

“And if it doesn’t work out, I just lose her,” Jihoon’s eyes are watering, most likely from the excess smoke around their grill, but it does align with his current state of sadness. It was the right thing to do, he thinks over and over as he replays that phonecall from last night. “Hoshi, if you were in my situation, would you have done the same?” 

“Like I said–” Soonyoung—codename Hoshi, waves his tongs around like a magic wand, “your civilian is super cute, so I would be making a beeline to her house and—” 

“Okay, don’t finish that sentence,” you’re his civilian, not Soonyoung’s. 

“Cheer up, c’mon,” Soonyoung’s filling his bowl with all sorts of delicious things, charred vegetables, mixed rice, and pork belly. Jihoon’s favorite is pork belly, so eventually he relents with a timid smile, taking out his chopsticks to appease his friend, “there it is, Uji. Food always makes things better—” 

“Uji?” 

Both off-duty agents freeze, hearing the familiar ting of your voice as it glares holes into Jihoon’s back. It’s you. Since they’re off the clock, he would have no idea you’d be here. Usually that’s fine, it’s early morning and it’s pretty unlikely that you’d run into your civilian considering you’re supposed to know every second of their schedule. It seems that tonight you’ve varied from the norm. 

“Uh, hey?” 

His back is still facing you, and he’s side eying Soonyoung in a panic. He’s wearing a cap and a nondescript hoodie, feeling like a shlub as your familiar voice pings back at him with excitement. 

“I knew I recognized your voice!” you’re unfazed, definitely not realizing the distress the two men are currently going through. “What a small world, I didn’t think we’d ever actually run into each other!” 

“Talk to her, you ass!” Soonyoung hisses, and immediately swivels his chair so he has no choice but to face you.

You’re so, so pretty. Prettier in person, prettier than any crappy 480p screen can give him. You’re definitely not dressed for barbeque, in fact you look like you’re just passing by to pick up a to-go order after a night out. You’re dressed in a silky looking velvet off-the-shoulder top, the cherry red color practically melting onto your skin. The black skirt paired with it has Jihoon salivating for more than just barbeque, and he has no idea how to look away. 

The smile is wiped clean off your face however, and you recognize him almost immediately. “Jihoon?” 

This should be a moment of joy for him, after all it’s far too late to go back at this point. You look a little hurt, your face twisted in confusion as you put two and two together. 

Soonyoung excuses himself to go to the bathroom, although neither party seems to care. The lame, over-distended EDM music that plays over the cacophony of the barbeque place seems to melt in the atmosphere, much like how the smoke hits the fan, and it’s just you two in the room. Jihoon gestures a pale hand to Soonyoung’s seat, and you take a beat to reluctantly sit yourself down. 

You clutch your skirt with both hands, thumbs ringing against the pleats and ironing them out. “So, you’re also Jihoon?” your voice is tiny, small and sad. Jihoon feels liquid guilt inject in his veins, and he wishes he could reach out and pat your shoulder, hold your hand, something. However no matter how much he knows you, he’s a stranger to you. “Why did you lie to me?” 

“It’s… complicated,” you shake your head at his pathetic reply, and Jihoon hates this. He feels like he’s drowning in smoke and mirrors and the cloying scent of pork belly is now sticking to all his senses, immobilizing him. 

With a cross of your arms, you scoff, “It’s always complicated.” 

“Please don’t think I said those things the other night because I don’t want to date you,” Jihoon tumbles the words out like a hamster wheel, wanting to speed up to your pace as fast as he can, “I want to, I really do, but it’s—”

“Complicated.” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you sit in silence, letting the noise back into your little bubble. Jihoon feels his stare on you, akin to how a teacher looks over your shoulder during an exam. He robotically eats rice, grain after grain as he lets you have your look. 

The slope of his nose, the cotton smooth skin, the lean yet strong stature. You can’t believe he matches the Light a Flame profile perfectly. Other than the frumpy clothes, he matches the man on your phone, a simple picture in a black suit that reminds you strangely of the movie Kingsman. You mentally roll through what you remember from his profile, his hobbies, his likes and dislikes, his occupation—

“Wait,” you pause, your brows knitting together, “so the FBI thing on your profile… is not a joke?” 

Jihoon forgets to chew his last bite, and he swallows a whole two centimeters of meat down his throat. Ouch. 

“It’s—” 

“Complicated.” 

The adjective has a whole new meaning now. It’s crazy how in so little words, so much is exchanged between you two. You might not be realizing it, but Jihoon’s so attuned to you he feels like the pick to your guitar, strumming and humming along your chords like it’s second nature. It really isn’t fair, but anticipating your reactions helps greatly. 

“There’s things you’re not telling me.” 

“Right.” 

“And things you can’t tell me,” you add. 

“Yes.” 

“Then what are some things you can tell me?” 

“I’d… rather not here,” Jihoon’s eyes dart around the room, looking for all the pinholes and micro cams attached to the restaurant. By the bonsai, under the table, in the koi tank, “I need to work out some paperwork before anything.” 

“Paperwork?” 

Jihoon nods mutely, but he looks at you with a litany of emotions in his eyes you’re reeling back in your stool. Why do you feel like this man knows you from a simple five-minute interaction? And why do you feel like you can trust this man with your life? 

“Okay,” you finally say. 

“Really? Okay?” you think he’s cute, the way his eyes perk up and his back straightens. 

“Really.” 

Silence fills the space once more. This time however, it feels more at ease. 

“The only reason why I’m saying yes,” you pretend to nonchalantly play with your fingertips, a manicure reserved for a date you’ve long abandoned for this evening in favor of a new flame, “is because I think FBI agents are kinda hot.” 

A flush blooms on Jihoon’s cheeks, and you can’t help but giggle. 

[redstarwriting]

New Moves

Natasha x Fem!Reader

Request: “Hi! I love your writing, can I request a nat x fem reader fic where reader is from M15 and was sent to assist the avengers team? She's a techie and very skilled fighter and ends up saving Nats life during a hydra raid on the compound, up to you exactly how they get together! Hope this is okay :)”

Word Count: 1,807

Genre: Not totally sure to be honest with you

Warnings: swearing, suggestive themes, fighting, guns

A/N: Thank you so much nonnie! I’m really happy you enjoy my writing. I really like writing fem!readers for Nat, so this was a treat to write and it made me feel better writing it! So that’s a plus. I hope this lived up to your expectations! I’m sorry it took me so long. Please enjoy!

───────────────────────────────────

“So why exactly was I the one sent to do this? There are plenty of other people qualified for this job,” you complain to your best friend who only raises a single eyebrow at you. “You serious? (Y/N), you know you’re the only person that can help the Avengers on this.” You scoff at them. “Oh please. Shouldn’t they have someone who is actually, you know, meant to be a fighter? I like to do things with computers!”

“Okay, fair, but you’re also one of the best if not the best fighters we have here! Listen, (Y/N), I know you would rather be stuck here typing away at your computer like the lame ass that you are, but you need to go kick some ass with the Earth’s mightiest heroes.” You roll your eyes at their statement before sighing deeply, checking your watch. “Well, I suppose I better go. I’ve stalled my flight long enough.” “When were you supposed to leave?”

“Eight in the morning.”

“(Y/N)! It’s nearly 9:15! You can’t just-”

“Yeah, yeah, save me the lecture. I’ll see you after I get back from this mission. Don’t eat any of the food I have in my office. I’ll know it was you,” you say, narrowing your eyes at them. They just flip you off as you walk away with a smirk on your face. You make your way to the hangar where you were supposed to be literally an hour and fifteen minutes ago. To say you got a stern talking to from the pilot was an understatement. The next eight hours were very awkward for you, as you warmed up your muscles in the back of the jet. You were about to assist the Avengers after all. You may as well be warmed up, anything and everything can happen when it comes to them.

It’s not that you hated the Avengers, far from it actually. You admired them greatly. The reason you didn’t want to do this mission was genuinely because you’d rather be at your computer. While fighting is all good and fun, hacking, figuring out puzzles, finding information on people, even fixing technology was just so much more of a thrill for you. You didn’t mind kicking some serious ass every once in a while, but your heart is where there’s a hard drive. You also may have had a Fat Crush on Natasha Romanoff. What a woman. You sigh and blush thinking about it but continue warming up. The flight goes by decently fast, or as fast as an 8-hour flight can go. You land at the Avengers Compound, and although you’re a tad nervous, you aren’t showing it.

You walk out of the plane, saluting to your pilot who just stares at you before he takes off. You chuckle to yourself; you really did make a new enemy today. “(Y/N) (L/N), it is great to finally meet you. We’ve been told about your skills and we believe you’ll be a valuable asset to this mission. I am-”

“Maria Hill. And you are Nick Fury. I do my research. Now tell me, what exactly am I meant to be doing?” you ask, not slowing down your walk. After all, you had work to do. Better to get it done than sit around talking. You don’t see it but Nick and Maria share a glance. You definitely lived up to what they expected. “Well, it seems there’s a new Hydra base, but we can’t pinpoint exactly where it is,” Maria explains, and you glance back at her. “Are they just changing the IP Address around? I don’t suppose you wouldn’t have needed to call me in if that were the case,” you think out loud and Maria nods. “We originally thought that was the case, but… then it got a little more complicated.” You stop walking and look at her with a confused expression. “We’ll let Stark tell you what’s happening. We have some… other… business to attend to,” Fury says. You nod at him and walk into the room where the Avengers are. Why are your hands sweating? They need to stop that. They need to stop that right now. Why are you nervous? What is going-

“Agent (L/N)?” you hear a voice which snaps you out of your mind and you look to see the Tony Stark in front of you. “Tony Stark,” you say, holding your hand out to him to shake which he does. “So why am I here? I’m assuming you need to find more than an IP Address,” you say and he nods, motioning you over to his work space. That’s when you notice Natasha is also with him. And by default, with you. Aaaand now your hands are sweaty again. Great. “It’s nice to meet you Agent (L/N). I’m Natasha Romanoff,” she says to you, and you give a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you too, Agent Romanoff.”

“Okay, time to pay attention to this one now. Basically, there’s this new Hydra base, right? We need to find it to stop it because we believe it’s their new main base. Not good. The only problem is, we can’t pinpoint this new base down. At first, we thought it was what you said, an IP Address constantly changing which is easy to crack., I could do it in my sleep. But then when I tried and nothing was working, I realized we were dealing with something more… complex. Bigger, in a word.”

“And what you mean by bigger is…?”

“It’s jumping IP Addresses, yes. The only catch is that it’s jumping IP Addresses in space.”

“…In space?”

“In. Space.”

“You’re serious? That’s absolutely mental,” you mumble, completely amazed. You start typing away on his tech as he watches. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Natasha watching as well, and you smirk to yourself. “Even though I am the smartest man alive when it comes to tech, I couldn’t figure it out. So, naturally, I decided the smartest woman in tech could.” You wink at him before saying, “Give me forty-five minutes. I’ll figure it out.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“You’re pretty confident,” Natasha says, and you give her a small smirk. “Well this is my specialty. The addition of space to it is just a fun little puzzle I need to solve to crack the code. This will be a fun little challenge,” you say half to her and half you talking to yourself. You’re so enveloped in the work you’re doing; you don’t notice her little chuckle. What you do notice, though, is the sudden sound of breaking glass and gunshots. Your expression turns from confusion to anger as you realize, “Stark, did you forget to hide the IP Address for this system here?!”

“…You know, I may have forgotten that tiny part.” You duck down as the glass behind Tony breaks, Natasha following with you and Tony suits up. He starts shooting blasters at the intruders, but there’s a significant amount. Luckily for you, not all of them are armed. “I’m going to go look for Cap, you two handle any others who come in here,” Tony says before running out of the room. You and Natasha exchange a glance before a new group of men run in the room. You pull out your gun, and start shooting at them, Natasha doing the same. Right when it looks like you’re done and the last man is down, you hear a sudden gasp. You turn and look at Natasha, who was caught off guard by one of the Hydra agents. He has a gun to her head, and he doesn’t look like he’s about to waste any time with the trigger. “I don’t think so, bastard,” you mumble before jumping into action.

You grab the wrist he’s holding the gun in, twisting it as hard as you can which results in a loud pop. He yells in pain, dropping his weapon, but now his attention is on you. He throws Natasha to the ground, getting ready to take a swing at you, but you expertly dodge his punch, sliding swiftly under his arm. You then elbow him in the side, causing him to jolt forward, giving you the perfect opportunity to kick your leg up and bring it down on the back of his neck, forcing him to the ground. You then grab his hair, yanking his head up and then forcefully smashing it onto the ground, knocking him out. While you do this, Natasha watches. She was ready to jump up and save you, but it seemed like you had everything handled. Even when a guy tried to sneak up behind you after you took the one who was after her out. You didn’t even need to look to know that someone was there. You stepped back onto one oof his feet as forcefully as you could, which caused him to double over, giving you the perfect opportunity to elbow him in the face. He staggered backwards as you turned around, getting low and using your leg to take out his, causing him to land on the ground with a loud bang. Luckily, he hit his head on the way down, so he was out cold, and you didn’t even need to do anything else to stop him.

“Nice going, (L/N),” you hear Natasha say and you look over to see her with a smirk on her face. “Oh, it was nothing really,” you respond, trying to not let the look on her face affect you, but definitely failing. She definitely knew it affected you. Oh God. “Maybe you could teach me a few of your moves after you figure out this Hydra space thing?” she suggests, and now it’s your time to smirk. “The Black Widow is asking me to show her some moves?” you ask, and she chuckles. “She is. She’s… interested in what you could teach her.” Now there was no hiding the blush dusting your face. You clear your throat, tryin to not look like a loser before turning back to what you were working on before. “I’ll be done with this in-”

“Forty-five minutes?”

“Thirty-five, actually,” you say, a glint in your eye. She smiles. “I’ll be waiting.”

Now you did figure out where the Hydra base was and you did teach Natasha some new moves. No, actually, you taught her some combat moves. She was really impressed with what you did and was willing to learn from you. Don’t worry though, she taught you plenty of new moves too. Now after this incident you were called in to help the Avengers many more times. And now any time you need to go help them, you leave early. After all, you’d be a bad girlfriend if you didn’t visit every so often.

[mythrilhusk]

Korosensei Never Dies -Chapter 9

Words: 2,140 Ao3 Version Chapter 8 (Last)

TW: threats of violence, heavy (but short) discussions of death/murder

Quackity scowls blearily at the returning heroes. He and the other Ducklings were up the whole damn night trying to work out infiltration plans after Bad gave them the location of the laboratory and then peaced out with his team of scammers. Bad won't be returning again, but thanks to him, the Ducklings missed the whole rescue mission.

It's summer vacation, so everyone ought to be home anyway, but Philza promised to teach them fighting, and by the goddamned stars, Quackity is determined to make the old man follow through. 

Philza steps tiredly into the classroom. His bloodshot, baggy eyes go wide in surprise as he sees all the students gathered there. Quackity salutes him with a smirk. Ranboo hides in the shadows of the door, watching Phil with worried sulkiness. 

"Kids, I need a favor." Philza collapses into a chair, hiding his face. "I know you want him dead. But- please. Wait a bit." He hesitates and then continues in a ragged voice, "Purpled hit him with a neutralizing agent. He- he can die, again. I'm begging you all, please don't tell anyone or try to kill him until our time is up." 

"Why should we??" Quackity demands, realizing immediately with a confusing mixture of delight and horror that Technoblade has been rendered vulnerable. Does this mean their plan to sneak into the lab is pointless now? "I don't know." Philza hiccups. He's crying. The tears burn a hole through Quackity's delight. "I don't know, dammit. Please, just wait to kill him at the end of the year. No, better, kill both of us then, I've done the same terrible things as he has! I should be punished too, goddammit, why is he the one to suffer for both our crimes??" 

"I'll wait." Quackity leans back. "I'll fucking wait till time's up, but that doesn't mean I'm giving up my revenge." 

"I'll wait too!" Tommy cries. "I'm the fucking king of procrastination!" 

Sapnap and the Ducklings follow Quackity's example. The others follow Tommy's example. Together, the class proclaims their willingness to postpone Techno's death. 

Philza rubs his eyes and takes the handkerchief Tommy stole from Wilbur to offer him. "Thank you, kids." 

"We still get fighting lessons, right?" Quackity asks with a scowl.

"Yes, of course you do. You've all earned them." Philza smiles tremulously. "Ranboo, Techno, you can come out." 

Ranboo steps into the light, blatantly normal-seeming, so unlike the nightmare Tommy and Charlie described. He hovers beside Technoblade as the former terrorist limps through the room to reach his desk. He seems so small and frail without the mutation-induced strength. He looks so weak. Quackity could put a bullet through his head right now and he wouldn't be able to dodge or absorb it. 

But Quackity sees Philza watching Techno with worried, fond eyes. He thinks of Sapnap. Of Techno eating the goddamn grenade to save Sapnap. 

Quackity decides he can wait. If he kills Technoblade right away, after all, Philza won't give anybody fighting lessons. 

And if Philza doesn't give them fighting lessons, then who the fuck is going to wreak vengeance on whatever motherfucking scientists created the mutants?

++++

Niki and Jack watch through binoculars as their enemies spar with each other in the clearing outside the remote school building designated for Class 3-E. "Dang." Jack says. "They're not bad." 

"They can't fight a bomb." Niki grins. 

"Much less ten." Jack matches Niki's toothy smile. 

"Did you get the supplies?" 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Good work, Jack." Niki drops lightly from the tree. "We can proceed with the operation Smithereens in a week." 

"Awesome." Jack chuckles darkly. "Do we really want to give them that much time, though?" 

"We need to get them acclimated to the bait, first." Niki taps her fingers to her lips. "This will go wonderfully, Jack, don't worry. That loser class won't be a threat much longer." 

++++

"Sir, Purpled is dead." HBomb reports, wincing nervously in apprehension. 

"The fuck he is, I told that bitch to get me Technoblade, and by god, he'd better do it!" Schlatt tips a whiskey bottle into his mouth, gulping the burning liquid down. He lowers it and peers at HBomb. "Unless somebody fucked up again." 

"He must have, sir." HBomb grasps the lifeline eagerly. "The neutralizing agent was nowhere near his body." 

"What?" Schlatt says calmly, his tone barely warning of the torrent of rage he's about to unleash upon the poor unwitting HBomb. "Where the fuck is it, then?" 

"Our clean-up team found the crushed casing nearby!" HBomb continues to dig his grave. "So-" 

"So he found it, and destroyed it." Schlatt snarls. 

HBomb nods quickly. "Y-yes, but-"

"Do you know how long it took to make enough neutralizer for one dart??" 

"Months, sir, but-"

"And you're telling me Purpled fucked up badly enough that somehow that goddamn mutant knew about the dart and destroyed it." 

"Well- see, we have reason to believe Dream is involved!" 

"Damn it!" Schlatt bellows and smashes the whiskey bottle on the table. His hand starts to bleed and sting from the shards. "HBomb." He growls, trying to pretend he's still in control; he needs to still be in control. "Why the fuck is that motherfucking spider involved?? I gave him a mutant already, why the hell does he want to steal mine??" 

"I thought you'd want his help!" HBomb squeals. "So I let him know we're trying to hunt Technoblade down!" 

"Fuck this, fuck you, you motherfucking imbecile, you complete and utter moron, why the fUCK WOULD YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THIS??" Schlatt roars. 

HBomb cowers, hiding ineffectively behind his broom. "I- I'm sorry, sir, but I thought-"

"Well, there's the fucking problem, yeah, bitch?? You thought. I do the thinking here." Schlatt reaches for his gun. "You want to know what I'm thinking, HBomb? Do you want to know what I'm thinking of, right fucking now??" 

"Pl-please-" HBomb whimpers, staring into the barrel as it aims between his eyes. 

"I'm thinking you're fucking useless to me, HBomb. And you know what happens to useless whiny bitches like you, right?" 

"Please don't kill me!" HBomb sobs. 

"Ahh, whatever." Schlatt lowers the gun, too furious to admit he can't bring himself to actually pull the trigger and become a murderer. "Leave my sight and don't fucking show your ugly mug for a week." 

HBomb scurries away, leaving Schlatt to bind his bloody hand, alone in the sterile laboratory. 

++++

Getting beaten up would have been bearable. Being bullied mercilessly would have been completely deserved. But being completely and utterly ignored for days on end breaks Eret like a goddamn crusher.

The more he thinks back on her actions, the guiltier she feels. During the sparring classes, they copy Philza's moves alone, behind everyone else working with partners. When the class decides to camp in the forest for the rest of summer vacation, Eret sets up his tent several meters away from the rest. She stands back and watches their former friends banter and laugh as they raise their own tents. 

"Hey."

Eret almost jumps at the low voice of Ranboo addressing her. Turning, he faces the mutant, clenching her hands to hide the trembling. "Yeah?" 

Ranboo steps up next to them, gazing into the smoking campfire amidst the scattered tents. "Why are you scared of me?" 

"You- you already know why." Eret stares at his hands. Out, out, damned spot.

"Um. I don't really remember, but yeah, okay." Ranboo sighs. "I- I don't think I'm sorry." 

"Neither am I, apparently." Bitterly laughing, Eret grips her chest as the sharp pain of grief blossoms. 

"I think you are." 

"What do you know??" Eret lashes out, shoving Ranboo. "If everything had gone according to plan, it would all be fine!" 

"But you still wouldn't have any friends." Ranboo replies calmly. 

It hurts that he's right. Eret knows he's right. They turn away, hunched and close to tears. "Why am I scared of you?" She mutters in a low, desperate voice. "Because I know. I saw what you are. I know you- you killed Purpled." 

Ranboo frowns. "Techno killed him." He says it so casually. Techno. As though the bastard wasn't a mass-murderer and terrorist, bestowing violence in the name of anarchy and blood. "What do you think I am?" 

"A monster." Eret snaps, rounding on Ranboo, who backpedals with surprised fear in his eyes. "You're a monster. You might not remember. Your friends might pretend to forget. But I know." 

Ranboo gathers his composure and stands his ground, forcing Eret back a step. "If I'm a monster, and I protected my friends... what does that make you?" He turns on his heel and storms away into the trees. 

Shattered and lost, Eret can only watch him disappear. 

++++

Karl slips a briefcase under the table to his contact, who takes it and gives it a little shake. His contact then slides a folder over the table. Karl snatches it and stuffs it in his backpack. The two remain in silence for a moment longer. Karl leaves first. 

Once out of the main school's cafe, he runs all the way through the woods to the Ducklings' treehouse. Echoing footsteps crack twigs behind him as he reaches the gang's base. 

"Hey, what's that?" Fundy doesn't even bother trying to hide anymore as Karl climbs into the treehouse. 

Karl pulls the ladder up. "None of your business." 

"C'mon, we're in the same class!" 

"You're not a Duckling." 

"I can help!! Pleassse?" Fundy begs. 

"Who the fuck is bugging you, Karl??" Quackity sticks his head out the window. "Fundy?? Get the hell outta here." 

"That was HBomb you were talking to!" Fundy cries desperately. Karl groans and hides his face in his hoodie. "I know that guy! I used to work for him!" 

"Where?" Quackity asks. 

"Some laboratory in the capital!" Fundy cries. "I was shadowing him for a potential internship!" 

"Let the ladder down." Quackity orders. Karl sighs as he obeys. 

"Fine, but I don't trust you." 

"You don't have to." Fundy gives a smug smile as he leaps up the ladder. 

Karl enters the treehouse and sets the blueprints down on the table. Sapnap and Foolish stop painting Connor's hair and gather around with Quackity and Fundy. 

The laboratory blueprints spread across the table, promising revenge. Karl looks up and sees the hungry fire in Quackity's eyes. He looks to the side and meets the molten steel in Sapnap's gaze. 

Quackity draws his dagger and sets the point on the blueprints. "Whoever the fuck's been experimenting on people, let's fucking find them and end their pathetic lives." 

++++

Technoblade slashes the saplings with a rapier, taking out his frustrated fury on the innocent young trees, ignoring the twinges of pain. He shouldn't be this weak. 

Even before Schlatt started experimenting on him, he was stronger than this. He was powerful. The best fighter, the best tactician, the best at strategy. Now his body is frail and hurts merely to move. 

He tries to snarl, but his breath catches in his throat, fear slithering roots into his chest. Irrational. He's being irrational. Technoblade isn't afraid of anything. 

Except perhaps the pale blue of scrubs, the glint of scalpels, the searing agony- No! Technoblade scowls and tries to shove the flashes of terror and hunger and bitter, helpless rage away. 

Philza approaches him with a cup of tea. Technoblade flinches away, unable to look at the man he failed, the friend he abandoned. "Techno?" Philza sets the tea down on a fallen tree and presses a hand to Technoblade's shoulder. 

"Who am I, Phil?" Technoblade begs. Weak. The old Technoblade would never beg, would never cry. 

"You're my friend." Philza answers. 

"Why aren't I dead?" 

"The kids agreed to keep it a secret and wait until the year is up." 

"Phil. It's not going to last forever, Phil, you need to kill me soon. I can feel the damn resonancy in my chest. I don't know how long you have, but you need to kill me before I destroy the world." 

"Techno." Philza's voice shakes. "No. Techno, we'll find something."

"Find what?? It hurts, Phil. It hurts to move, it hurts to talk... I've killed so many people, Phil, I deserve this, I deserve to die! Kill me, please. The kids are too innocent. They don't need to be turned into murderers like me." He thinks of Quackity, the blazing fire. He thinks of Ranboo, the gentle nightmare. Of Tommy, the merciless sunshine. Each and every student. They deserve better. 

"Technoblade." Philza grips Techno's chin and brushes back his hair. "I deserve death as much as you. But I'm going to keep living. There's still people we need to kill, Techno, there's still governments to dismantle! We can't end now! We'll find a cure. A real cure. I promise." 

"I don't want you to die." 

"Ditto, mate." Philza embraces Techno gently. Techno wraps his arms around his friend, afraid to let go.

[theurbansquared]

Guide To Avoiding A Loser Brokerage

by James Hill | theurbansquared

Brokers can be bastards and some even get better at it while other brokers are legitimate life-changing business Sherpas

A broker is supposed to guide you through a career in real estate much like a coach or pimp - offering protection and how to understand a complicated system better and direct it to revenue  without getting your neck broke while playing the game. I created and ran the most well-reviewed, largest full-service brokerage in the fastest-growing city in America.  This gave me access to nearly ever broker and their broker's pay structure and innovations. I also got the agent's version of my same broker buddies brokerages when they eventually joined my brokerage; hovering anywhere from 20–60 agents. Trending insider chatter has blame going to real estate brokers of decades past (and current) and how they’ve managed their agents - - letting unsupervised  agents with no experience run wild on the streets practicing on the public wearing out Realtor love and making a need for all the Mountain Dew-made Zillow-y options that currently exist.

Brokers are out of touch more than ever with today’s current media load, having to understand and use social media platforms for their advertising (since the private Town & Country affair that real estate once was is forever over and the landscape is a bit more like a half Juggalo, half programmer flea market).

Let’s dive into some situations and tenets that most agents don’t consider when choosing a brokerage.

Sales Volume

This is a bit of negotiating psychology and due diligence. Simply ask how much sales they (the brokerage) did last year and how much they’re currently at. If they don’t know these numbers they’re goons. If they don’t give it, you guessed it - they’re hiding something; their lack of revenue. I’ve hired and fired hundreds of agents and in interviews so few ask this question but it’s one of the most important questions you can ask as an agent and you need the information. An agent that doesn’t ask this has already given a tell that they’re not a top producer since they’re not interested in the production capacity of the team they may join. No bueno. Creep the brokerage as well obvi -- reviews, FB & IG engagement and current running ads, and make sure the company Christmas Party isn’t catered by Chic-fil-a at a Burnet Road dive bar.

Office

40% of your learning and 350% of your work will be done at the office. Those numbers will make sense 90% of the time after a few years in real estate. The rest should be on the streets - your car, properties, driving 75 mph talking and sending out docs, gorging on breath mints. Office, home, tiny homes, motorhomes have all blended into one larger conversation where work/live ethos are all in re-definition.

But, when you do need a more savvy moment in any market when people talk about borrowing or selling something that’s over $100K they don’t want to hear some bullshit too loud pedantic conversation seated right next to them at Starbucks or the local kooky coffee shop. In real estate Murphy’s Law is always in effect. The super important listing sign off that has to go well and they want to hear you pitch again before deciding? There will be someone (at this super ‘caj’ coffee house meeting) there projectile vomiting, or throwing cats, or something else tiresome or bad that takes more calls.

Speech and body language are massive parts of sales so when the entire set is thrown because a barista is running through a whole Sublime album. You want the most inviting cool office you can ever pull off at any given moment in real estate . Was that ever a question? There's a balance  -- you can't afford that year one or three, but it’s called real estate for a reason. Sexy, exciting buildings is what the brochure said when I joined. Also, it’s about style not size.

If you haven’t lost business to coffee house back pressure you really haven’t failed at agency properly.

Social IQ

Social reach is the only conversation now. Many brokerages won’t make it as the lead generating aspects of the industry aren't powered by a private MLS anyone and the publicly-hated ‘Realtor’ designation have both brokers and agents guessing about tomorrow. Calendars, best practices and free shitty tips & templates are the du jour of the day for anyone trying to get an agent's eyes. You can Google and get all the ‘basic’ social media dance steps, but with everyone at the same happy hunting spot, you’re being covered up, which leaves all your new artistic efforts fruitless and also squandering winning time.

Traffic, leads and engagement are all separate areas that have to be fulfilled properly and even this is in flux with historic corporations and current start ups all on the same advertising playing field. Social reach and engagement is about going to the consumer direct and becoming their friend with soft bribes -- free food, gifts, prizes (trips, events tickets) or industry work tools. The great news is, real estate has always been mostly consumer direct - start up a convoy at the grocery store (bar, church, meetup) and you’re in the car that weekend looking for houses with a new client. While you, your brokerage and the world are figuring out their exact social media mix, you need to make sure a brokerage isn’t lost on social media since many won’t be able to stay in business in the next few short years. Your brokerage needs to have a plan and and at best some presence on social media. Plus, they should be running low-cost performative marketing ad campaigns to get a feel for what and if set user groups are responding to ads. Anyone can post on IG but people engage on IG when they become inspired. A brokerage should have some sort of inspiration and relationship tied in with the local allure of their city --  or heading that direction.

Mentoring

Much like a neurotic buyer chasing an interest rate for their home mortgage (and then never buying a house) agents too focused on commission may miss the essential career need for mentoring -- for their clients and career. I had a 5 deal minimum for my new agents before they were ever unsupervised and received more commission. I've had new agents with celeb clients in hand and celeb agents with no clients in hand. No one wants to do business with someone with absolutely has no, experience but they do it because they like you as a friend or fam. Your mentor is the person riding shotgun with you at the beginning of your career. On many levels you want to be this person since they embody the position and role. You're literally and figuratively are borrowing experience from them and they deserve to be paid for it. You always have to strengthen your brand outside of your brokerage but if you don’t have any experience your brand doesn’t have ‘strength’ you simply have a logo and a drag & drop website where you're possibly talking about yourself and love of unicorns or football shit but the big boat deals you dream about in bed aren’t gotten this way. Remember, no unicorn could ever throw a football good without a lot of practice and a good mentor.

Support

Support in a brokerage is really communication and solutions for small problems, and systems for managing bigger ones with people. Most of the annoying things in real estate happen outside of the deal - contracts, calls, emails, docs, signatures, more docs. You typically want a super admin, broker, or agent manager that you can call and they pick up the phone. It’s pretty simple. With a mentor, admin, or broker you’re going to have a n 8:30 PM question or deal that’s going down. You’ll need printer help. Real estate always happens now (this was one of the main mantras in my office). Printing, prequal, weekend support and constant post dinner shenanigans.

Training

Meet Frank Miller, David Mamet, the Sex Pistols, Tony Robbins, Wayne Dyer, Hendrix, Tom Hopkins, The World’s Greatest Detective and Conan The Barbarian. We had a lot of different inspirations for the style and ethos of our urban brokerage. The World’s Greatest Detective is Batman. It was a moniker that became popular in the seventies. We used this example about how important due diligence and proper Fact Finding techniques are for serving and closing deals for clients. (It’s almost essential to be inquisitive in real estate esp about property/development to have success). Training is largely your sales meeting(s). Although I don’t come from a car background I’ve mentored many car guys transferring to real estate (they typically are out of the industry within 2 years and are there only for boom markets). Car guys have meetings every morning 6 days a week and they’re not at 9 or 10 am. They’re already working.

free module: The Burger King Phenomena: Why Agents Do Less Working For Themselves Than If They Were Working At Burger King

Many brokerages have no training/meeting schedule (monthly doesn’t count -- that’s a meet and greet company pump and catch up meeting). If a brokerage doesn’t have training on a schedule then there is no training. You’ll possibly be thrown a 3-ring binder, or given some PDF’s, or links to old bizarre training videos or a soup sandwich of all three and sometimes even a bill for the training. An agent’s training/meetings and their attendance to them are the difference between an agent making it or not when you’re 24 months or less in the role as an agent especially in the fast turbulent waters of the current 2021 market where brokerage and agent purpose and pay are under attack. From my experience, new agents that hide die.

Media

Having a background as a creative director I’m aware with great detail of agency and brokerage media needs, the cost and time they extract, and the corresponding revenue they’re projected to bring back. Brokerages are looking for their purpose now as simply having a brokerage doesn’t bring in leads like it used to. This is fitting, since the digital dumbass brokers that that didn’t understand the importance of ‘the web’ rickshawed our MLS data and sold the agent/broker centric real estate system for their benefit while current agents are left with an empty greasy enough to-go box to curl up with. Brokerages were never media houses or ad agencies but now that consumer level graphic programs and website builders are ubiquitous and any agent after being licensed for 10 days can drag & drop a website up in 4 hours and make it look like a brokerage that’s been around for years. I know I’m going wide on the subject here but stay with me because this is the crux of where the industry and consumer are renegotiating roles.

A brokerage’s value proposition has changed drastically with the telecommute revolution that was only sped and strengthened by Covid. Also, generational knowledge base gaps in technology are more apparent than ever with technology as younger agents can often be more media savvy than their broker. The market is flooded with self appointed companies or gurus that are taking on the role of the classic ad agency (Mad Men) or media production house. Also beware of real estate coaches with little or no real estate experience offering to guide you in social media. Okay media can’t be used in apex situations (such as the luxury listings you’re after) and doesn’t draw apex listings. Beware of tapioca room temperature tips and general lists from companies that can appear informative but are really boilerplate low grade data to get your attention to ultimately upsell you on a paid service.

As an agent or a brokerage, consumer level graphic and website building programs can be a death ticket to your business as your competitors have the same tools and are cranking out the same type of style of messaging you are now. Now agents, principals, admins and in art class creating flyers. This has been done since the nineties as the valleys of dead agent careers is full of 2-day Microsoft Word (or any of their shitty office offerings) seshes to produce nasty flyers and presentations. These programs are fun and making bad flyers absolutely work related - the kind of work you don’t want’ related to your business because it’s adult crayon coloring. Activity does not equal production. Staying busy doing the wrong things doesn’t make money in real estate. Rather than spending agent winning time staying in the wrong lanes for way too long, get with a team or brokerage that are providing the most exceptional visual media you can find in your market. It used to be cool 2 years ago, now it’s the only thing that matters. Visual content.

free module: Better Agent Media, Less Agent Money (media tips and hacks).

Access

This is access to your broker. Brokers with families are typically less available. Your best bet as an agent is looking for a grinder broker who sleeps on the couch at their office. This person doesn’t have kids to build into so they’ll build into your career and you’ll get the most out of these brokers. Beware of cheesedick, apathetic, rich boy, bored brokers not around and more concerned with projects like a shitty vanity wine brand that their wife’s forced them to launch since she’s not living her best life anymore as an agent.

Style

What kind of style is your brokerage? Is there an opportunity to bring more style sophistication to the market -- standout in a smaller market? Or, are you in an ultra stylish market currently and butt hurt because you already have a little story about how you’re going to keep it real and be a Dockers wearing slob for eternity? The thing about style in agency is you always need to look like you can list a million dollar house. Oh, is it really that simple? Yes it is. You complicated it. Clients always care about their housing a little bit more than they care about your real estate career. They don’t have time to figure out why you’re wearing shoe styles from 7 years ago. Don’t make it hard for people to do business with you. If you’re ugly, even better. It can be a massive advantage. Everyone on the planet loves when someone who doesn’t fall into our general current ‘attractive’ spectrum doesn’t give af, looks great and puts themselves together in a stylish way that the viewer can understand (can I get away with Teen Wolf?). A great side benefit from this step in the right direction is it’s a great way to make someone who is conventionally attractive insecure.

You want to be in the same style as the people in your area but the secret is you need to lead that style pack if you can -- you always lead and dress apex. Years ago this was anecdotal but after over 100K hours in real estate a good suite (tailored) saved my ass and literally got me business. I listed the largest house in east Austin because of a suit (and got a front page story on the newspaper real estate section for free because the owner saw me walking into the next door neighbor’s house).

Offices, dress, logo, email signature are all elements of you and your brokerage’s style. Style in and of itself isn’t enough to be a top producer in real estate. I’ve had stylish and even celebrity agents that didn't do zilch, but style often is a fingerprint to something more.

Picking the right elements for your agent style is an art because you have to offer something from yourself that’s unique enough as well as something familiar (a bridge to your uniqueness). I have a background as a musician and also as a merchant sailor. Fortunately those are easy convo starters. You could be a philatelist and have some challenges, but regardless it absolutely will take a year or three to develop your own angle and style towards the market as you learn it and the agent role more.

Things that look attractive and familiar puts client’s psychologies at ease. So, if skinny jeans are in you better get in them (that’s like five years old now). You’re on stage. You don’t wear what the worker people behind the camera wear. If you want to wear boring shit get on the other side of the camera. If you want less leads saddle up to a forgettable brokerage. People have hard days. They want you to put an effort into your real estate agency role. Currently it’s a fried role so you’re dealing with that too. People love to be smiled at and sold and especially from someone who smells good. It doesn't ever get old. Don’t make them beg for your charm. Be a nice charming person with a shirt that fits good, it’s a powerful combo.

Get My Damn Paper

If you’ve never seen a werewolf in daylight mess with an agent’s commission after the deal’s done and funded. Admin? Who is the damn person who does the admin? (accounts payable is the icey pro word if you like). That person that you contact to get your commission check cut? If that person is a weirdo, or there’s an unfriendly or sketchy quality to the office or admin staff, do not go forward (don’t confuse this with new people or industry jitters). Grab some free coffee, leave the smarm and jet to the next brokerage blind date.

Software

CRM is an annoying conversation. Here’s the things with CRM’s - for all the work CRMs curtail, because of their complexity and existence and the work(time) they take to interact with you need to consider how much work you’re putting into operating the CRM software verses how much time it’s saving. Many times brokerages have expensive yearly subscriptions with per agent fees for their CRM which can make the brokerage have a zealot meth thing for the ‘team’ software and promise you can’t have a career without taking a bump too. To understand CRM better before it was a name, Client Relationship Management is what analog Proximity became. Let me explain -  being close to people in Church, bar, school, same building -- all give proximity. This becomes familiarity, then ease, then trust. People do business with people they trust & like. Once people disconnected physically and started using other means more contact attempts have to be made to work for or ‘prove’ worth.

Follow Up is a large component of most CRM’s and there are gobs of money for agents who follow up meticulously. Simply ask the broker what CRM they use and research it. Something to remember - unless you’re extremely busy with your career you don’t need a CRM. You can manage & database your clients & leads ‘by hand’ and strap it to the cloud with G-Suite/Google Sheets.

Brokerage Name

A small but important aside, if a brokerage have named themselves after a precious metal or a gem, or if it says elite in the name then it’s not elite. If it has the words prestige or worldwide or international it may not be any of those either. I know a handful of exceptions to this rule but this is a great dirty primer to use when choosing a brokerage that’s going to propel your career and have shrimp options at the Christmas Party.

[winslow-schott-4-the-winn]

The 4 Times Winn Schott Tried to Confess, and the One Time Kara Did It First  Part 3/5

Summary: When Clark and Kara haven’t seen each other in a while 

A/N: I am so sorry this took to so long to get up, I just got some writers block in the middle but I know I am going to try my hardest to get the next part up 

It had been a while since Kara and Clark had actually seen each other so they thought it would be nice to hold a little BBQ with both the Danvers and Kents. Sure, Kara brought along Winn, James, Nia, and Brainy but they counted as family at this point. Especially since James was friends with both Kara and Clark. They planned this a week before it even happened, yet when the day came everyone was beyond excited. They all agreed to meet up at Kara’s apartment so they could all drive to Clark’s farm. Kara had been up since 7, getting some snacks and drinks into a bag for the road trip. She also made sure to pack the chargers and books for herself. By the time 8:30 came around, only James and Alex had showed u p to her house. Kara was just about to say something when there was a knock on the door.

“Well, I’ll get that” James said, sending a smile to Kara. He was hoping it would calm her down, anyone could sense how stressed she was. As James opened the door, in walked Brainy and Nia. Nia carried a small picnic basket, a big smile on her face. 

“Sorry we’re late, I got carried away trying to finish these cookies and my mother's famous egg salad. We then stopped by the store to pick up some various food items” she explained as she sat the basket down,Brainy followed by putting down what seemed to be a bag of alcohol. 

“Oh please say that’s whisky” Alex said as she tried to rush over to it, but Kara’s arm stopped her.

“Now is not the time for that” she said before glancing between James and Brainy, “Any news on Winn?’ she asked, putting her hands in her pocket. 

“Well, I heard that he was running by a do-” Brainy started to say until Nia nudged him, giving him a look.

“He’s on his way now, don’t worry” she said as the look turned into a smile. Kara was confused and shrugged it off, 

“Well, let’s get packed up. I think two cars should be enough. I can drive car one and Alex can drive car two” Kara explained as she grabbed her bag.

“Then James and Winn will be riding with me” Alex said, plucking the whisky from the table and heading out the door. James chuckled and shook his head, smiling a bit. 

“I’ll make sure to keep on her, both of them actually” he said before following Alex. Kara and Nia looked at each other with a knowing look,

“Disney music the whole time?” Kara asked and Nia immediately nodded. They high fived before grabbing what they needed and heading down to the cars. When Alex got down to her car, Winn was just pulling up to his. He stepped out of his car before going to the drivers side, pulling you a bag and a box. Kara squealed a bit when she saw him. He couldn’t tell if it was because of him or what was in the box. He didn’t care as long as he gotta see her smile.

“Oh Winn, please tell me you got me some crullers” she said as she walked up to him. He didn’t even put his bag away before opening the box to show her, 

“You know I did,” he said, smiling at her.

“Oh I love you!” she said,l grabbing one before kissing his cheek and heading over to her car. Winn was frozen in shock, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. James chuckled, putting a hand on Winn’s shoulder, 

“I see someone is slowly getting out of the friendzone,”  he joked. Winn was just speechless, incoherent words came out of his mouth as he tried to process what was going on. This just made James laugh even more. Then, as if on cue there was a car honk. They both turned to see Alex, rolling a window down. 

“Get in losers, we’re going to a bbq”  she said, putting some sunglasses on. Both boys laughed before getting in the car. James took the passenger seat while Winn sat in the back. Of course, he didn’t mind it, he could easily fall asleep if he got tired. 

“Hey Alex, did you hear what Winn did?” James asked, a small smirk on his face.

“Oh no no no, we don’t have to talk about that” Winn said, hoping they might just ignore it.

“No I did not, but do explain” she said, glancing back at Winn through her rearview mirror. 

“He brought your sister some donuts , which earned him a kiss on the cheek”

“Oh really?”

‘Yes but it doesn’t matter, it meant nothing” Winn said, trying to shrug it off. Alex gave him a look through the rearview mirror again. He said, annoyed with how well Alex could read him. “Alright fine… it meant something”

“Oh we know” James said before Alex joined in,

“All of us know about your feelings towards Kara, besides Kara herself. She is just too wrapped up in work and being Supergirl to realise anyone liking her” Winn was just quite the rest of the trip, a blush never leaving his cheeks. It took only three hours to get to the Kent farm, where they all agreed to have the bbq. When Alex, Winn, and James got out of their car Clark and Jereamiah were already at the grill, making various meat items. 

Hi dad, hey Clark” Alex said, walking up to them and hugging them both. Winn helps bring various bags and items. 

“Aw thanks Winn, you’re such a sweetie” Eliza said, unpacking some food from the bags he brought in.

“Of course, anything for you Mrs,Danvers. Anything else I can help you with?” he asked, leaning against the counter a bit. 

“Oh no, I think I’ve got it under control from here but I will be sure to call for you if I need any help”  she said before Winn left to go sit with James in the living room. They spent most of the time watching a movie while waiting for some food, soon enough everyone was called outside. There was a few tables with chairs,

“You guys serve yourselves and sit wherever” Clark said as he helped Lois set up a few things at the table. Winn went up, beyond excited to eat the cheeseburger. He grabbed a few before grabbing an empty chair, the chair beside him was soon filled by Kara. 

“Hey Winn”

“Oh hey Kara, how’s the bbq been so far?” he asked, striking up a conversation as he ate his burger. He hummed in content at the first bite, he knew Clark could cook but he didn;t think it would taste that good. Kara noticed and laughed a bit, 

“Is it that good?” she asked, taking a bite of her hot dog. 

“Oh it’s amazing!” he said before taking another bite from the burger. Kara justed watched in enjoyment as the boy beside her devoured his burger, she couldn't help but smile at his reaction. 

“So Kara, how’s your love life?”  ELiza asked as she ate some potato salad. Kara just laughed, shaking her head before putting a strawberry into her mouth.

“My love life is basically nonexistent. I’ve been focusing on my work” 

“So there’s no one who peaks your interest?” her mom asks as she starts to eat some of the steak off her plate. Clearly she had someone in mind but she wasn’t wanting to say it. 

“No, Eliza, there isn’t anyone” Kara responded, being adamant that Eliza would listen to her. Eliza sighed a bit, sticking some steak in her mouth. Then, various conversations went around the table and Winn would jump in at certain moments. The dinner finally ended and everyone beside Winn and Kara went inside to play various board games. Winn had thought he was outside by himself, wanting the time to look up at the stars. But when he heard the sound of shoe’s against the pavement, he looked over. That’s when he saw Kara with her cardigan wrapped around her.  

“I’m assuming you’re out here for the stars too?” she asked, walking up to her. He chuckled, looking back up. 

“Of course I am. I am Agent Schott afterall, protector of the stars”  Kara chuckled and tried not to lean against Winn, although she kinda wanted to. 

“So, what do you see?” she asked, trying to spark a conversation. 

“Well, do you see that right there?” he asked, pointing to a point at the sky. She squinted a bit, sighing when she couldn’t see it, “Come here” he said, gesturing for Kara to come to him. She nibbled on her bottom lip before she moved to stand in front of him. He was honestly shocked, he didn’t expect for Kara to actually move over to him. But he did put her arms around her slightly before lifting one arm up to the sky again. “Well, do you see that right there?” he asked. He could feel the small smile grow in her face, 

“Yeah, it’s a constellation. Right?” he asked, not moving from between Winn’s arms. 

“Yeah, it’s actually the Little Dipper, in Ursa Minor.”

“Oh yeah, I can see it,” she said, not moving from her spot. 

“If you follow the star at the tip of the handle…” His finger moved as he spoke. “You can find the Big Dipper, in Ursa Major. And between the two is Draco.”

“Malfoy?”  Winn laughed.

“Well, it is what he’s named after.” he said. 

“Wait really?” she said, looking back at him. Although she had to look up a little bit, with Winn being just 2 inches taller than her. Winn laughed and shrugged, 

“I honestly don’t know but it’s a safe assumption. They got the name Beetlejuice from the Betelgeuse star” 

“God you're such a nerd” she said, chuckling while turning to face him. She forgot she was between his arms before they were nose to nose. They both felt their breathing hitch a bit but they didn’t move. Winn found himself glancing down at Kara’s lips. He wished he had the confidence to actually try to kiss her but instead he cleared her throat. 

“Yeah so...I have something to say,” he said, gaining enough confidence to admit something. Her eyebrow quirked a bit, he opened his mouth to say something till they heard the sliding door open. 

“Kara honey, could you please come in. Nia and James want smores and it’s too windy for a fire”  Eliza said, getting Kara’s attention.

“Uh… I gotta go” she said in a hushed tone before snaking her way out of Winn’s arms and heading inside. Winn sighed, his eyes following her inside. When Kara got inside, she was soon asked questions from her mother. 

“What was happening out there sweetie?”

“I..uh.. I actually don’t know” she said, trying to ignore the blush on her cheeks. 

“Your blush tells a different story,” Alex said from her spot at the counter, taking a sip of wine after she spoke.

[drunk-onsunlight]

Day #4 of Promptmas

Chapter 4:  Look out the window at that storm

Summary:

Ice skating date? Cute coffee shop I found online and passed the address to Peter so he could take MJ there. Spidey finally meets Black Cat in person, or something like that.

Chapter 1: Beautiful what’s your hurry?

Chapter 2: I’ll hold your hands (they’re just like ice)

Chapter 3: Mind if move in closer?

Concept: Ice Skating

Dialogue: “If you sing Jingle Bells one more time…” & “Do you mind?” “What? I’m cold”

December 20th

The day was particularly cold and MJ was trying not to kill Peter. He was on his tenth time humming Jingle Bells and it was just 9am. MJ opened the curtains and took a look outside, the snow was falling down slowly. She loved the view of the city she grew up in during winter season. The phone on her pocket vibrated with a new message, her friend was informing her about that guy that was bothering MJ so much, people saw her as a villain when she was trying to help the city. Not that she cared what people thought about her, maybe they will found out one day. She needs to make a plan for tonight, she can’t let them create whatever they are trying to do If that implies hurting people, innocent people like her friend.

“Michelle?” she had been so distracted by her message that she didn’t notice Peter calling her name

“Parker?” She placed her phone back on her pocket and turned around to face Peter. He was standing in the middle of the living room looking at her with an expression she couldn’t read properly

“What would you say if I tell you that I want to go ice skating… with you” the invitation took MJ off guard but she actually liked the idea

“yeah. Why not? Is Morgan going?” Was this a friendly invitation or actually was Morgan going and he still wanted them to bond even more?

“No, she is not coming. But if you want to invite her…” She really liked Morgan but she wanted to spend some quality time with Peter. Uni, Black Cat and her part time job ended up in not seeing her roommate a lot and she missed spending time with the loser.

“No. It’s fine. What if we go grab something to eat and then go ice skating?”

“Rockefeller Center?”

“There is no better place to go ice skating than Rockefeller Center, loser.” It was close to 10am, while they found something to eat it could be close to midday and maybe they could walk to Manhattan to be there late afternoon and finally ice skate together.

“I want to show you a place I found. I think you’ll love it” Peter’s eyes were shining with excitement.

“Then let’s go” They gathered their belongings and went out to the cold day.

They were walking quietly when she heard a little sound next to her, a mumbling of a song. Oh, no. not again.

“Peter, if you sing Jingle Bells one more time I swear to god I will push you while skating and I’m making sure you die” it wasn’t the fact that he was humming the song, it was that she seriously hated the song.

“Why you hate Christmas carols so much?”

“I don’t hate all of those but that specific one doesn’t make any sense. It’s the same verse over and over again” Peter didn’t say anything, he just looked at her for a few seconds and kept walking. They fell into a comfortable silence, MJ loved that. At first when they moved together there was awkward silences that none of them knew how to fill, but now it was different. They could be studying at 1am in complete silence, just the sound of their keyboards and the company was enough, no words needed.

“Here we are” Peter stopped on a corner. There was a really nice looking coffee shop there.

“Mighty Oak Roasters?” she didn’t recognized the name and when she took a look inside, she noticed a normal cafeteria with a particular bar and a huge machine on the back corner

“Yeap. Come on in!” he held the door for her and she moved inside the coffee shop

“Bar or table?”

“Bar” Not that she was thinking about how a date with Peter would be in this exact same place he picked for her, not sure why just yet but sitting with him at the bar made her feel more like a friendly thing and not the image she totally could see in her mind on one of the tables

“Welcome to Mighty Oak Roasters. What do you want to drink?” A very nice girl asked them with her sight on a small notebook on her hand. The huge menu was right in front of her behind the bar hanging on the wall

“Is our first time here so what do you recommend us?” Peter spoke first making the girl look at him

“Well… the coffee shop is focused on vegan pastries and using freshly roasted beans for coffee and self-sustaining tea” the girl was looking between Peter and her. Every time the waitress looked at Peter she stumbled over her words and tended to blush, MJ have seen that reaction many times. Peter was a handsome man, she wasn’t blind, she noticed him since high school and saw him grew up into a man, a handsome one for the matter. But above the whole situation with the waitress, MJ was very impressed. Peter knew MJ so well that he found this vegan self-sustaining place.

“Can you bring me matcha latte, please?”

“For me a mocha, please” Peter didn’t even looked at the menu, he was focused on MJ. He knew how to read her after so many years

“I’m impressed, Parker”

“I knew you would like the place” he was very proud of himself

“Not you first time here, right? You didn’t even look at the menu to order” his confidence dropped a little but kept it cool

“I found the place one day, it looked nice and searched for it later” that wasn’t the full story, MJ knew that much but she wasn’t pushing it either.

The tea was amazing and according with Peter, his mocha was pretty good too. They chatted while on the coffee shop about how their part time jobs were going. MJ decided to finally tell Peter about that photoshoot an agent had offered her to do and he was very surprise but supportive. He told her about how his job in The Bugle was demanding more of him, he never spoke about his famous Spider-Man pictures so she never asked. She told him about a few cases they were working on the lawyer’s firm with a new guy called Harry Osborn and his awful attempts of flirting with her.

The hours passed and soon it was afternoon so they decided to go to the ice rink. It was a half an hour walk, just to give it time for the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree to light up. When they finally arrived it was late afternoon, the air was colder than before and she could see lots of families already ice skating in the rink.

“You ready?” Peter turned around to talk to her. He wasn’t wearing a scarf given that he gave his to the snowman they built with Morgan, but he didn’t seem cold. He looked perfectly fine while she was very cold, she kind of missed wearing her leather suit beneath her clothes

“I was born ready, Parker” MJ knew that phrase always made Peter laugh

“oh. Get out of here!” she loved when he tried to mock her while trying to hide his laugh

It wasn’t the first time they went ice skating but it was the first time alone, they always went with Ned and Betty and even May. Peter was a little clumsy at first but after ten minutes he managed to do a little flip without MJ having to lift him off the ground. MJ used a little bit of her Black Cat abilities to show off. While Peter moved around trying to do his flip, she was skating backwards when she decided to show Peter something she used as Black Cat.

“Hey, loser. I’m going to do a little something over there. Try not to kill yourself while I do that, ok?”

“I’m not gonna die! Maybe I will do another few flips over here”

MJ skated backwards again, gain speed as she went around the rink without stop looking at Peter. Suddenly she opened her arms, then used her left toe to turn while lifting her right foot from the floor, that caused her to turn around in the air once and land on the outside edge of her left foot smoothly, then stopped in front of Peter with an easy smile.

“How did you do that?” Peter was looking at her like she had grown two more heads

“Saw it on an article about ice skating flips and seemed easy enough to try it” It wasn’t an easy flip, she knew that but she did that flip every once in a while when swinging through the buildings, it was easy to do that while trying to escape. The rope attached to her hip making her perfectly stabilized, her high heels allowing her to turn around once and land sometimes on another building, sometimes on the next corner of the same one.

“Easy?  If I try that I probably end up breaking my neck”

“Yeap, you are too clumsy for those things, loser”

They kept trying to do more flips for about half an hour with Peter falling to do most of them and MJ laughing while he seated on the floor.

“Peter you are a mess! You’re going to be all bruised tomorrow. We should go home and get some rest”

“Sounds like a very good idea. Now can you help me stand up and stop laughing?”

“Why? Is really fun to see you trying to get up on your own”

“MJ!”

“Okay! Fine!!!” She took his hand and helped him get up. They moved to the door where they have left their shoes and put them back on. The ride home was full of laughter from MJ and lots of blushes from Peter. They got home by 8, they reheated the pizzas they made from the night before and watched some TV on the living room.

“I think I’m going to sleep. I’m tired. Thanks by the way, the coffee shop and the ice skating, I needed that”

“Any time, MJ. Sleep tight”

“And take care of those bruises, loser”

“will do”

She headed to her room and closed the door behind her. She checked her phone to see if her little friend was fine or if he had any news. She just had a new message from him “u comin’?” She was tired but she also needed to check on him, the situation was getting worst by the second. She replied a quick “yes. Stay safe” and putted her leather suit on. She looked herself in the mirror while adjusting her silver wig and black mask on, she looked exhausted but this was more important, she could sleep tomorrow, she didn’t have any plans after all.

She checked that nobody could see her and then climbed out her window. Her belt had everything she needed for her little mission.  She climbed the wall and got to the rooftop of her own building. She saved her claws, the same ones she used to climb walls, and searched for her phone do a quick call

“Hi, Em. Where are you?” He was the only one that knew her real name and that was dangerous enough

“I’m going out but I need you to tell me what you saw or heard to go safe” it wasn’t time to do small talk and he knew it

“Prowler, something about some equipment to improve his damage on the city, something big Em. But in small amounts so it doesn’t call anyone attention. He was going to take the money tonight to a new place”

“where?”

“Commodore Barry Park at eleven thirty. But please, be careful”

“Like always. I will text you when I have the money”

“Bye Em. Take care”

She ended the call and threw her rope to the next building. She wasn’t as fast as Spider-Man was with his webs but the rope did perfectly fine and she used more the claws to climb than any other artifact she carried with her. She started moving to Brooklyn as fast as she could, she knew the park and knew that it didn’t have lots of places to hide a group of people with weird costumes on. It was going to be an easy task to find them.

She was at the park at eleven, the place was surprisingly empty, maybe it was the low temperature, she was freezing too. She decided to make a round on the park, she moved between the trees, her black leather suit helped her to hide on the shadows, but her wig made it a little more difficult so she needed to think where the moon was placed so her hair could camouflage with the moon.

She found a place above a small building that was near the park and soon she saw the Prowler walking through the park and placed himself under a big tree. If she moved quickly, she could take the money and run without making a big show. When she started moving closer to the Prowler she heard an explosion close to them. The prowler rolled his eyes and spoke to some kind of intercom but she could hear what he was speaking. A few seconds later a second figure with four mechanical arms appeared to her right, his suit was simple, like a mechanical octopus. Too late to get the money from the Prowler now, she will have to do the same from a few days ago, go directly to the warehouse and take the money from there.

A second louder thud shook the three where she was and now she could see the source of the sounds. Rhino was running to the small park and of course, spider-Man was after him. The Prowler and the Octopus man exchanged a look and then turned around and moved to opposite sides. The Prowler walked under the tree she was so she took her chance and jumped right behind him.

“I have heard a lot about you, Prowler” She always tried to change her voice when being Black Cat. He turned around to see her.

“Cat, you are not a myth then”

“I can be a nightmare if you want me to” She walked around him and put her chest closer to his back, she placed her right hand on his shoulder and moved down his arm, when she got to the bag in his hand she moved quickly. She pressed the little button on her palm and her claws popped out, her left hand was on his neck and her right was holding the briefcase handle. A third thud sounded, but this time Rhino took a tree to the ground with him. Prowler saw Spider-Man first so he released the briefcase and ran past Rhino.

“You own me Cat!” the Prowler screamed and looked back at her. His scream made Spider-Man look at her, the robotic eyes in his mask moved like he was trying to focus on her.

“Damn it” MJ cursed under her breath. She didn’t want Spider-Man involved in any of her business. His distraction made Rhino run away but he didn’t follow him, he started moving to her.

“You must be the famous Black Cat, right?” she could tell that he was changing his voice an octave lower, just like she changed her voice but she didn’t care who he was in real life

“If I’m famous then I’m not doing my job well enough” she needed to escape with the money so she started to use her most useful weapon, her charm. She wasn’t an idiot, the leather suit made all her curves stand out, her long legs with high heels made her taller than most men and she used all she could to escape from situations like this one without hurting anyone

“Well, famous for me. I have being searching for you, some petty theft, you are on and off the scene, not making big deals or causing lots of trouble. Wonder why” he knew basic information about her, she could handle that

“Well, I know more about you” she moved closer to him. She was taller than him for very little, maybe without heels he was taller, just maybe “you are an Avenger, one of the old ones. Not as old as Thor or Iron Man but old enough to have their respect. Very close to Iron Man, Doctor Strange and Capitan America. Connections with Wakanda because you are kind of a genius and you probably have rejected bigger projects to keep an eye on New York, so you probably live close too. And half the journalist love you, the other half hates you” She have studied him, there wasn’t enough information but what she got was enough to set him off

“Now I’m ashamed I don’t know any more information about you” he was following the conversation how she needed it to go. She moved to his back, let the briefcase on the grass and placed her hands on his waist

“Do you mind?” Spider-Man flinched at her touch and tried to move away from her. She could feel his hard muscles under the red and black suit

“What? I’m cold and you seem hot enough to help me warm up” she spoke to his ear and she felt him flinch. One of her claws climbed up his arm

“Easy Cat, those claws don’t seem friendly” she had to laugh at that. He knew what she was doing and she was ready to run away if necessary

“Just like those web shooters, I have seen what they can do”

“That’s why you are standing behind me?”

“Very good. You are a genius after all” she heard a little laugh behind his mask but his robotic eyes didn’t show any emotion

“Just very observant. Learned from a friend” she thought about Peter, how at first she observed him all the time and with the time, he learned to look around and take mental notes for later. He appreciated that tip as a photographer with The Bugle

“Very useful. So I should stop all this and just go, right? No need to distract you. Too smart and observant for that, Spidey” She grabbed the briefcase from the grass and started moving to a corner of the park

“Just one question before you go”

“Shoot” She walked backwards not running but not giving him a chance to get her

“Why?”

“Why are you Spider-Man and not a regular citizen?” she didn’t wait for the answer. She threw her rope to a nearby building and did the same flip she had done early on the ice rink. The toe of her foot gave her the impulse to jump while her other leg spun her around on its own axis to land on the corner of the building the rope was holding onto. With her claws she climbed the wall and searched for Spider-Man but didn’t find him.

She made her way home close to 1am. As soon as she arrived, she took her suit of along with her wig and mask, the briefcase was next to her window. She tried to be really quiet, she didn’t wanted to wake Peter up. She put on one of Peter’s shirts she had stolen from him a lot time ago. It was one of his science pun shirts and she liked the soft fabric and maybe the fact that when she took it, it smelled like Peter.

She was lying down on her bed, tired of the day but couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t stop thinking about Spider-Man and Peter. Spidey was nothing like Peter but at the same time there was something familiar with him, something that made her think about Peter when she touched him, when he question her for her actions and when he didn’t answer back to her.

“God, I need to sleep. I’m mixing everything up and that’s definitely not good” She spoke softly to the celling. Thinking about Peter was kind of an issue, but comparing Spider-Man and Peter was insane. Peter had clumsy movements when Spidey was agile in every one of his. Peter was shy while Spidey openly flirted with her. Peter had a strong moral compass while Spidey let her go even when he though she was a thief. They were totally different and she was just wasting time thinking about them.

------------------------------------------

Thanks to @spiderman-homecomeme fro the amazing opportunity to write :3

[lifeofroos]

Part 8! Thanks to everyone who gave support! Writing about Nico has been fun. 

Rest is on AO3! 

@nicoappreciation I don’t know if you wanted to see it... (it’s the Nico therapy fic). 

This Might Be Crazy - part 8: Starbucks Chocolate Milk

There was a knock on my cabin door. I did not recognise the knocking pattern, like I would if it was Will or one of my friends. ‘Yes?’

‘Good afternoon, Nico di Angelo. Have you ever been to highline park?’ Dionysus. Figures. 

‘Highline park, Sir?’ 

‘It is a park in New York city, built on what once was a railway.’

‘And you think that that is the best place for a therapy session?’

‘Perhaps not the best, but it is a place. Are you coming?’ I mean, sure, why not, but also, do I really have a choice?

Ten minutes later, we were walking in highline park, after we had made a pitstop at Starbucks for a hot chocolate. It seemed to be Dionysus’ ideology that you cannot have a therapy session without a drink and I whole-heartedly agreed. 

‘Alright. I noticed that you really made progress with training your new power. Yet, can you explain why you eventually chose to turn the rats to bones when you were previously against that?’

I looked at my chocolate milk. So he had seen the rats despite my best efforts to hide them. ‘One of the rats became really ill. I thought that… maybe I could releave it from its pain. Yet, when I... bonified... it, it acted as if it was any healthy rat, with the added bonus that I can control them if I want to. The soul stayed with it. That made me comfortable enough to try it out on the other rats, because I would not be banishing them to the Underworld.’

‘Are you going to keep the rats in camp Half-blood?’

‘I am planning on releasing them in the woods outside of camp.’

‘Well done, Nico. Very well done.’

I smiled and took a sip of cocoa. Dionysus took a moment to look around the park, so I did the same thing. It was slim, but filled with a lot of greenery and art. It made me feel at ease, which was probably what Dionysus had been going for when he brought me here. 

‘What would you say if I told you we have something difficult to talk about today?’

I don’t like that. ‘Get it over with.’ 

‘Than I am going to do exactly that. Without further ado: I want to talk about your experience with king Minos.’

That? Oh, dude, I thought you wanted to talk more about Cupid, or about my trip down to Tartarus or something. Minos? That’s small potatoes. I took a big gulp before I answered. ‘That’s alright.’ 

‘Alright, than we will talk about your time with one of the idiot kings of Ancient Greece.’ I turned to him. Clearly there was more going on between Minos and Dionysus. ‘Please tell me what happened between you and Minos,’ he continued. ‘No, lets start off easier: how did you meet him?’ 

I stuck my hand out, so that I could touch the fresh april leaves on the bushes. A little dew stuck to my hands. ‘How I met him? Well, eh... It’s…’ Perhaps slightly more difficult to talk about than I initially thought. 

‘Remember: I just want to know how you met him, not why, or when, or anything else.’ 

‘His ghost appeared to me...’ Yes, that is a start, ‘...while I… was trying to summon a different ghost. In the traditional way, not in a son-of-Hades way.’

‘... The traditional way?’ 

‘Yes. Oh! Eh, I did not use blood, though.’ I shrugged. ‘I summoned ghosts with Happy-meals. It worked, okay?’

‘If it works, it works. Happy-meals are cheaper than livestock anyway.’ 

‘Yes, well, so, Minos’ ghost appeared to me, even though he was not the ghost I was looking for. That was…’ I bit my lip and looked at my cup. I stopped walking.

‘Take a deep breath…’ I did as I was told, until I felt calm enough to say it. 

‘I was trying to summon my sisters’ ghost. I wanted to talk to her again…’ I wanted to add a because after that, but that sentence felt redundant. Even a God would understand why I wanted to see Bianca. 

‘Alright. That’s how you met. So, why did you keep him around?’

‘Because he told me he could help me with resurrecting Bianca. And with... getting back at Percy. We already talked about that for a bit.’ 

‘We did. Please go on.’ 

‘So, because I thought he could help me achieve my goals, I kept him around. That. But I do want to say that I did not really have a choice. He… kept appearing. Even when I tried to summon other ghosts, he’d rear his head. Even when I... finally summoned Bianca.’

Dionysus was quiet for a bit. Maybe he thought it would be helpful to let it settle for a moment. ‘Did your sister tell you anything, once you finally got to see her?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can you tell me what?’

‘She said…’ I could still hear her words in my head, ‘She explained to me that I was not angry with Percy, but with her. For…’ Oh man. When do I learn that talking about issues is never as easy as I think? I swallowed the lump that had appeared in my throat, before taking a shaky breath. 

‘I think it might be better if we talk about that at a later moment.’ You think? ‘We were talking about king Minos. Can you tell me about how you stopped talking with him?’ He raised one of his eyebrows, as if he suddenly got the suspicion that our contact did not end.

 ‘He… do you know anything about what happened in the labyrinth?’

‘Parts of it. I was scouting out the minor gods at the time, remember?’ 

Oh, right. ‘Well… Alright. So, after contacting Bianca and hearing what she said... I was not immediately back on Percy’s side, but I grew to be. After Minos caught wind of that, he first tried to sway me. When that did not work… he lied to me, told me Percy and Annabeth were in danger, in order to trick me into being captured by agents of Luke and… you-know-who.’ I took a sip of chocolate milk before I continued. ‘I was captured, so instead of me going after Annabeth and Percy to save them, they had to come and save me. They did so and when they found me, it turned into a battle. During that battle, which was in Daedalus’ workshop…’ I stopped for a second. ‘Oh right, he was in the picture too.’

‘Minos hated him. Always has.’

‘Yes, he really did. But that’s beside the point. During the battle, I opened a fissure in the ground, back to the underworld, and Minos fell through. That ended our contact, except that he went right back to being a judge.’ I felt a little sick at the thought of that man still being in charge of who deserved Elysium and who did not, all because Zeus was adamant about the judges of the underworld being his sons. Maybe we could put Jason in Minos’ place. Hm. Maybe I would bring that up with my dad the next time I saw him.

‘I find it ridiculous too. Minos, a judge of the underworld. The guy is only out for his own good, always has been. Anyway!’ I took a big swig of chocolate milk, while looking at Dionysus. I sensed that I was not the only one in the current company that had bad memories about king Minos. ‘Now, we have the whole story. Minos preyed on you because of the grief you had for your sister, which made you vulnerable, and perhaps even liable to join the titan army.’ I winced at that statement, but I did not go against it. ‘For months, he managed to manipulate you. But then you managed to summon your sister and her words made it difficult for him to keep a grip on you. So, he tricked you into being captured by Kronos’ army. But all's well that ends well and you banished our good old king Minos to the Underworld.’ Yes, keep it at that. I banished him. To the Underworld. Where he is now. I bopped my head in what was meant to be a nod. ‘Good. Now, we have to see if this is still affecting you. But first, look at that.’ He pointed towards an old factory, towering up beisde the Highline. 

‘An old factory?’ 

‘An old factory where they invented the Oreo cookie.’ He shrugged. ‘Someone told me once. I think.’ 

‘Cool.’ I looked at my cup, before taking a tiny sip. There was almost nothing left. 

‘Yes. That concludes our little break. So. Do you ever get in touch with Minos, or with things alluding to Minos, in your everyday life? You can start with easy examples.’ 

Well, my therapist is his son-in-law, for one. ‘Sometimes Chiron talks about him during mythology class.’ So, that was easy and I began with that. ‘So, obviously, sometimes the campers talk about him. And every now and then, when they find out that I met him, they will try to ask me questions about him. That…’ I looked at the skyline and took another deep breath, which calmed me down enough to continue. ‘That is usually when I get nightmares. Only for a few nights at the time, but it is almost as if king Minos notices it when I am thinking about him. Maybe he…’ I shrugged. ‘I don’t understand why he would still be preying on me. The titan war is over and I am not going to do anything for him ever, so…’ I took the last sip of my chocolate milk and immediately felt like I should not have done that. ‘I think he just wants to haunt me out of malice.’ 

Dionysus sighed and nodded. ‘But I get that it is not something that bothers you all the time?’

‘No, as I said, only when someone mentioned him, so, when he is already on my mind. Otherwise he cannot get through my defenses.’ 

‘That sounds like we almost have one subject less to talk about. Do you experience mental or physical pain when you think of Minos, or when he appears in your dreams?’ 

I shrugged, again, wishing I still had some chocolate milk left. I never really dwelled on Minos. He was a giant loser. He had been… a symptom of a disease. ‘It… I don’t think it ever really was about Minos. It was… he… he promised…’ I looked at Dionysus. I could really use someone to think for me right now.  

‘You are thinking that Minos marks a nasty fase in your life, but mostly because you associate him with the grief about your sister and how you allowed that to best you for half a year. There is not a lot of trauma or pain tied to Minos, but there is a lot of trauma in what he represents: the desperate want to get your sister back.’ 

Now there were tears rolling down my face and falling into my empty cup. ‘...Yes,’ I whispered, ‘Because... even though usually I can let it go... there are still days when I miss her more than anything.’ Dionysus tapped my cup, so that it filled up with more chocolate milk. I took a shaky sip. 

‘I think it might be time to stop now,’ Dionysus said in a soothing voice. 

‘Are we not going to talk about Bianca today?’

‘No. That would be too much. We already worked through something else today. Now it is time to let it be for a moment.’ 

I took a few big sips. ‘Hm.’

‘I think I am going to tell you about some of the worst things Minos did as king, now.’

‘Yes, please. Sounds like a blast.’ 

A/N: Every Dutchman knows that the best chocolate milk is from Chocomel. 

Mannn I had to read a lot of parts from battle of the labyrinth again. I was fourteen (I think??) when I first did that and some things definitely slipped my mind (like Nico sees Theseus when he tries to summon Biancas’ ghost?? I forgot??). I hope I got it right now. 

I think this is how Nico feels about Minos. He was just an evil king, one of many, who he banished, so… yeah. 

‘Highline park, sir?’ has as many syllables as ‘Aaron Burr, sir,’ so guess what I had in my head while editing this.

[skullsnsunbeams]

Please enjoy part 2 my commentary of Outer Banks (you can find part 1 here)! Disclaimer: I started this show because I wanted to see all the hype was; I won't lie, I thought it was dumb and cliche throughout most of it. However, since I've finished I can safely say that I NEED A SECOND SEASON BC HOLY FUCK BRO. Don't come at me for MY OPINIONS, & also, most of what I say is in the spur of the moment. If you wanna come talk to me about the show I will GLADLY DO SO.

Ep. 6

• I don't trust Ward, jot that down

• John B is gonna be blinded

• FUCK OFF WARD YOU'RE NOT SLICK

• I WANNA GO AAAAWWWWF

• But now John B is actually on the property so that might be beneficial?

• Lana said fuck the feds and I did too

• BARRY BETTER BEAT RAFE'S ASS

• It's what he deserves :)

• THE CURTAIN JUST MOVED AND KIE SAW IT

• FUCK YEAH KIE SLAP HIS ASS

• Did he just

• He just slapped her back

• MOSQUITOS MEAN WATER

• YUPPPP THERE WE GO POPE KNOWS

• This is deadass the goonies

• "You love the idea of me" YESSSSS SARAH

• YES WARD CHOKE HIS BITCHASS OUT

• "WHERE'S THE BEACH!?"

• It's actually not okay but okay

• Yes he DID say that

• Desgusten

• RAFE IS GONNA STEAL MONEY FROM HIS DAD AND JOHN B IS GONNA BE BLAMED

• AHAHAHAHAH CAUGHT EM

• I love Pope sm

• Adina is that bitch, man

• Barry's gonna get his ass beat by Ward

• I knew it

• THERE'S WARD'S SHORT FUSE

• RAFE YOUR DADDY IS A PSYCHO

• KARMA, BABY, KARMA

• They're gonna trap Sarah and Kie on the boat?

• That's a got damn STING

• Why are they holding the blunt like a cigarette?

• What a shitty fucking person you are, Sarah. That's fucked up.

• SHE CALLED THE COPS I'M CACKLING

• They're gonna get caught by the scary lady

• "Weed? I could go for some weed" same, JJ

• JJ and Pope being assholes about John B and Sarah is my aesthetic

• NO NO NO WHY HER EYES LOOK LIKE THAT

• She's blind, duh

• Gross gross gross

• He's gonna catch something

• Wait does Corona virus exist in the OBX universe?

• "Any dead bodies?" Does the jaw bone he found count?

• That's shit he's covered in shit THAT'S GOLD THAT'S FUCKING GOLD

• JANIE'S GOT A GUN

• This is so cute but I know it's gonna blow up in their faces

Ep. 7

• I hate Ward he's such a sneaky bastard

• He's gonna take him out to sea and MURDER HIM

• or at least, like, warn him

• HE'S SUCH A GOOD LIAR

• Our boy Barry, he's gonna stir some shit up

• I knew it, pretending to be a cop tho?

• John B is B'ing dumb again

• Maybe not

• JJ NOOO

• CRAIN ESTATE IS FOR SALE

• AND WARD IS GONNA BUY IT

• JJ just wants his dad's approval

• THAT'S FOR HIS RESTITUTION

• How did ik this was gonna happen

• I hate his dad

• ahhhhh I WANNA HUG HIIIIIM

• Sarah do be bailin

• She said FUCK VULNERABILITY and to that I say SAME

• Those candles are gonna cause a fire. Old church? The Outsiders vibes

• Did they not just say they were gonna wait? And then immediately fuck? Okay.

• He spent his restitution money. He did exactly what he fought his dad about.

• He needs a hug so bad

• Thank you for hugging him Kie

• GUESS WHO'S CRYING

• ME IT'S ME

• Mr. Cameron, sir, you are operating a motor vehicle whilst drinking. You're providing a minor with alcohol. You should not be the Grand Knight of Rhododendron!!!

• Ward is an eavesdropping little shitfuck

• Blah blah blah all I'm hearing is a rich man trying to get the gold

• "Equitable split" sir you Didn't Find The Gold therefore You Do Not Get A Cut

• FINALLY JOHN B IS BEING SMART

• WARD JUST SNITCHED ON HIMSELF

• WARD KNOWS ABOUT THE DISAPPEARANCE

• Well, son, the sheriff already kinda knows

• What's he gonna do

• THE GAFFING HOOK

Ep. 8

• Ward is literally psycho so that's fun

• WHAT IS THIS SHOW

• HE STOPPED THE HOOK WITH HIS CAST I'M DEEEAAAD

• This turned into Parasite all of a sudden

• And this right here, folks, is called anxiety

• I love GTA

• Ward is actually psychotic

• "Ward you just got involved" just like his daughter did

• Fuck HE KILLED HIM FUCK YOU WARD

• AND HE DIDN'T CALL ANYONE WHAT A CUUUUNT I'M SO MAD

• BIG JOHN IS A LEGEND

• Ow my heart 🥺

• Ward is a big fat liar!!!!!!

• Oh my god JOHN B GONE CRAZY

• Sarah really switched up like that, huh? Shady bitch

• Where's DCS throughout all of this?

• He's doin a lil memorial I'M SAAAAD

• Pope deserves better!!!

• The gold is gone, just watch

• YUP I KNEW IT

• FUCK YOU WARD

• I feel so bad for Pope's dad bc he's had to work hard too, man

• Going to the Bahamas?????????

• Fuck Rafe

• BLAH BLAH BLAH NO ONE LIKES YOUUUU

• Pope whhhyyyy are you telling these PEOPLE ABOUT THE GOLD

• Oh shiiiit Susan knows about OTHER dirty cops

• I hope the plane crashes :)

• WARD IS A PIECE OF SHIIIIIIT

• SUE YEEEES

• John B's nod should not have been sexy

• RAFE YOU SONOFABITCH

• LIKE FATHER LIKE SON!!!!!!!

Ep. 9

• WARD. IS. A. PSYCHO.

• HOW IRONIC THAT RAFE'S TRUCK HAS A BLUE LIVES MATTER FLAG ON THE BACK WINDOW RHSJDJDBDNDH

• Pope is finally letting it out and I'M SO GLAD FOR HIM

• I shouldn't be laughing about Shoupe complaining about the regulator

• Ward really is a psycho

• FUCK THE POLICE

• All teenagers want is their parents' approval and that makes me saaaaaad

• Why do I wanna hug Rafe rn

• HE'S LIKE, NEVER GOTTEN A HUG IN HIS LIFE BEFORE???????

• OW MY HEART

• When the main character becomes a fugitive with a bounty 🥰

• Sarah isn't gonna do shiiiiit

• "What's gonna happen to Rafe?" Nothing. Because he's a rich white boy who can get away with anything bc of his daddy's money and power.

• They better not do a cliff hanger and make us wait til next season

• Rafe is delusional

• "He's a maniac" Pot, meet kettle

• Whose house is this?

• How are you gonna tell him to get out of your house and then chase him when he's trying to leave

• Pope high is amazing

• AW MY BABY

• He deserves the world and more

• NO PLEASE DON'T CRRRRYYYYY

• Topper is gonna let John B go, isn't he?

• He really locked his daughter in her room like Rapunzel

• "Hey Top, hey man, it's John B, hey" HE'S SUCH A LOSER LMAOOOO

• "My bad" My bad!?!??

• They're arguing over what word to use

• This is kinda gay ngl

• THIS FAKE CRYING EJDBEUSHEH SARAH

• Wheezie better not fuck this up bro or I s2g

• TOPPER DEF LET JOHN B OUT I WILL HOLLER

• I think Rafe is gonna get shot

• I hate this

• THE VEEEEENT

• I love rooting for a criminal

• SNITCHES GETS STITCHES, BITCHES

• Topper is gonna switch up on the Kooks and actually help out I bet

• RAFE NEEDS TO BE INSTITUTIONALIZED EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY

• TOPPER IS WEARING THE HOODIE

• THAT'S HOW HE PROVED HIS LOVE FOR HERRR

Ep. 10

• Aw John B

• Pope said FUCK FEELINGS

• Tf is SBI

• State bureau of investigation, got it

• NO, WARD NEEDS TO BEAR RESPONSIBILITY BC IT IS. HIS. FAULT.

• "Idk how to fix it" kill yourself, easy

• Sell? You mean lie. Rich people logic amirite??

• RAFE HAS VOICES IN HIS HEAD HE'S GONE OFF THE DEEP END

• The officer better know the truth

• WARD IS A PATHOLOGICAL LIAR

• The SBI agent sees right through Ward

• I hate this bastard

• FUCK YEAH

• Rafe is TWEAKIN

• Barry to the rescue?

• "I done worse, I was in the army" LMAOOOO

• Nvm Barry is still trash

• TRASH STICKS WITH TRASH

• They're GONE occifer

• AND THE THUNDER ROOLLLLS

• My heart is hurting so bad rn

• Is he gonna give himself up rn?

• I hate when JJ cries

• AHHHHHHHH HIS EYES OPENED AND I GOT SCARED

• OW MY FUCKIN HEART

• Shoupe is a pussy ass bitch too

• Pause, smoke break

• Lessgo

• He's gonna wait for the keys to be close to the car

• CALLED IT

• That was *chef's kiss*

• This is not good

• YEEEEES POPE

• NOOOOOO POPE

• VENGEANCE

• Holy shit

• Okay I'm gonna say it

• This GOT GOOD

• NO MORE CLICHES

• Holy fuuuuck

• If we get a second season, I wanna see Rafe destroyed

• Woah okay

• JJ is third wheel

• This is crazy

• STOP WASTING TIME

• This is all funny bc these kids are 16 and they think they're in love

• I GASPED OMG

• What did this turn into

• There's a cliche!!!

• Holy fuckitnenehehe

• Fuck you Ward

• He's gonna do it

• Ewwww "I'd rather die than be without you"

• What in the ever living hell

• Fuck fuck fuck

• And JJ is left alone

• OH MY GOD IM CRYING

• Holy. Fucking. Shit.

[hippychick006]

15.11: The Gamblers - Episode Review/Recap

This ep follows directly on from last week.   The episode was very mixed, there were 2 distinct storylines that merged at the end.  I had a few issues with the Castiel/Jack side of the story, which I’ll cover later, but the Sam and Dean scenes, for the most part, I was able to enjoy.  I even caught myself smiling… fucking smiling at several moments, because this?  This was a glimpse of what my show once was.  This also explains to the “Just stop watching” brigade why I’m still watching.  The brother scenes were a nugget of gold amongst the dross and worth watching for.

Thank you, Davey Perez, Meredith Glynn and Director Charles Beeson for reminding me, albeit briefly, why I fell in love with this show, and at the same time, why I dislike much of Dabb’s run, which in my humble opinion hasn’t just veered the ship slightly off course; it crashed into an iceberg in 11.21 and has been slowly sinking since then.  I think last week’s episode brought us to the point where half the ship is now vertical, ready to plunge into the depths of the icy ocean...  

...Anyway, enough about sinking ships, the key thing I struggled with going into this episode is the obvious fuck up from the previous week; the entire premise of the Winchester’s losing their “luck” and being reduced to “normal” people, and I want to talk rant about that for a few more minutes before we get onto this episode.  If you want to skip that, I’ll put start and end of rant, so you can skip forward.

Start of rant

In order to enjoy this episode, you pretty much have to ignore much of the previous episode and… that doesn’t sit well with me.  Last week wasn’t just a single scene you can forget ever existed (e.g. the trench-coat scene or Dean’s apology to Cass).  What Dabb did fucked with the entire concept of the show; that the Winchesters are ordinary people who do extraordinary things.  So, it’s really difficult to shake that epic fuck up off and just move on.

I just can’t ever buy in to the concept that the Winchesters were “favoured” or have more luck than “normal” people.   I mean look at Sam’s life for starters; he didn’t know his mom, he was fed demon blood as a baby, was dragged up in a life he hated, constantly moving, being brought up in crappy motels and forced to train to become a hunter.  The love of his life is murdered, and he becomes an orphan at 22.  He died at 23 (for the first time) and then he loses the last remaining member of his family at 24.  The Winchesters are far from “lucky” and if I could be bothered, I’d go looking for mentions of “with the Winchester luck” that have been peppered throughout the series.  Chuck has not “favoured” the Winchesters at all and they haven’t had Charmed lives because of Chuck’s interference.

I also can’t buy into the concept that the Winchesters are anything other than “normal” in the first place.  Sadly, they showed last weeks “fight” scenes during the recap and it did nothing, other than enrage me again.  Sam and Dean are excellent fighters and hunters because they trained from a young age to be as good as they are.  They weren’t “given” anything and certainty not a free ride and fuck Dabb once again for writing that bullshit.  It was nothing less than petty because we rejected his instant Hunter!Barbie fiasco that wasted too much of season 13.

So, how do I move forward from that and manage to enjoy this episode?  The answer in my opinion, is you can’t, because even with a few good brother moments, the entire premise of this week’s episode fails to make sense, because the previous episode fails to make sense.  I’ll cover why that is when we get to the pool game.

End Rant

The episode opens on a recap, and I ask myself why they are using all the bad bits from the previous few episodes, before I remember there weren’t many good bits to select from.  That clip of Jensen with the teeth is still funny. 😂

I love the intro again this week.  The setting was good, the guest actors, the camerawork, the music choice – North to Alaska - which complimented the scene, rather than felt like nails being dragged down a chalkboard.  All classic spn so far, so it has my attention.  

Two men (Joey and Leonard) are playing a game of pool and you can tell this is a high stakes game from the get go.  What the stakes are, we don’t yet know, but when the game ends, we see 2 coins being held in a contraption above the pool table; one glows green then dulls with the coin head disappearing, the other glows green and gets brighter with the coin head gaining in definition.  I don’t think this looks good for the loser.  He agrees and tries to attack the winner with his pool cue.  He’s stopped from doing so by a bouncer who turfs him outside.  👋 cutie tall bouncer.  There’s an absolutely great shot of the loser tossing his coin in the air and the music gets loud again (Hey, I’m here as much for the settings, lighting, music and camerawork as I’m here for the Winchesters – sue me) and then…. Splat.  He’s hit by a truck.  Poor Leonard, red shirt of the episode.  RIP my friend.

As an aside, I like how you guys announce which pocket the 8 ball is going into, we don’t do that.

This was a great into, interesting premise that immediately sucked me in, wanting to find out more.  This is my show.  Great job so far.

The next scene though shows once again how useless, at least for me, the writing is around Castiel.  They wrote an entire scene with him walking into the bunker, seeing a note that has been left, going down to read it “Cass, we’ve gone to Alaska, Sam”.  I’m not going to rant about the twats that insist on saying Sam has spelt it wrong, I’ve already done a post about the arrogance of fans trying to tell the show that created the character that they are wrong with the spelling of that character, so I’ll save you by moving on.

This entire scene, while I liked the shots of the otherwise empty bunker, was just wasting time for me.  I’ve seen people say Sam left a note because Castiel was in heaven and wouldn’t get a text message and how clever of Sam to resort to paper.  I don’t know about anyone else, but I dip in and out of WiFi zones all the time and the moment I dip back in, my phone pings with multiple notifications, so I personally thought this scene was dumb.  It would have been better to see Castiel appear back at the sandpit and get a text notification from Sam with the same message.    

Even better, you could take this scene away and it changes nothing that happens so why include it?  *Whispers* J2 wanted time off and the writers are incompetent of filling that space with something more interesting so use “filler”.  

Interestingly, my computer froze on Castiel’s face for 5 minutes so fuck you Norton or Windows 10 Update for your bad timing in running something in the “background”

BROMENT ALERT

We’re finally with what I’m watching the show for.  Dean and Sam are in baby and driving towards Alaska.  Sam’s phone is lighting up with messages and we find out through Dean that it’s Eileen. 🙄. Oh, Eileen’s being shoved into the narrative now?  Sorry Eileen, the third wheel position on the show has already been filled since Season 7. And fuck you again Dabb because I loved Eileen as a friend of Sam and it’s just yet another thing your reverse Midas fingers have screwed over this season.

Dean: Silent mode is always an option

Me: I love you, have my babies… wait, that came out wrong

Eileen thinks the plan is a little too good to be true.  Sam thinks she might be right.  He’s not convinced the place even exists or that it can fix their problem. Dean thinks it couldn’t hurt and he’s done with normal, including the constant heartburn.

Sam: You know if you changed your diet….  Dean’s frown 😂

Sam insists that no one other than Garth has heard of it and it isn’t in the lore. Dean believes it’s got to be there. He believes Chuck isn’t messing with them,

Dean: He [Chuck] wants us off our game, he wants us weak, ‘cos he’s coming for us Sammy, and when he does, and we haven’t figured this out, we’re DOA.

Mostly a great brother scene, apart from the forced insertion of Eileen – are we incapable of getting a broment in the final chuck damn season, without the completely unnecessary forced inclusion of a third party???!  The scene ends with a great shot of baby.

Back at the bunker and Castiel hears a phone ringing, and… I’m trying not to nitpick, but the way this case comes about just annoys me. There are better ways of bringing this about, than how they did it. But moving on, Castiel answers a random phone that was ringing in Sam’s room, and it’s a sheriff (Jeb Evans) looking for FBI agent, Watts. Castiel tells the sheriff that Agent Watts is working a case in Alaska, and that he is Agent… Lizzo.  I can only assume Dean gave him that alias as I don’t think Castiel would know any musicians on his own.  I like Jeb, who tells Agent Lizzo, they have a homicide and the suspect is someone Agent Watts flagged into the system… and guys… Sam is back to hacking into police systems and I just… I need a moment here as they’ve remembered Sam can hack into systems!

The agent tells Castiel that the suspect is Jack Kline.  

Ummm… Castiel, are you... okay?  Do you… do you maybe need to use the bathroom?  Oh, you’re emoting?  Okay dokay then.  I can’t with this.  I got more out of Leo in the less than 2 minutes he was on screen than I got out of Castiel since his return in season 7.  

Back with the impala, which rolls into a diner stop.  Sam is asleep, and Dean whacks him to wake him up.  Sam wonders why they’ve stopped at “Round up café”.    Dean says it’s the last stop for food for a few hundred miles.

Sam (frowns): Grab something out of the cooler

Dean: Yeah, no, I polished off the last of the sandwiches while you were out

Sam (annoyed): We’re on a budget!

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Last weeks puppy dog eyes fiasco aside, Dean’s still wrapped round Sam’s fingers, they enter the diner, slap some coins on the counter and ask what they can get for $4.60.  Apparently, it’s a slice of pie and a coffee, and I’m moving to Alaska when they secede from the US because that would barely get you just the coffee here.

Dean asks for two forks for the pie

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Long story short on this scene, they get out of the waitress there’s a local urban legend about a magic poolhall in the middle of nowhere, that if you win, you come back lucky.  She says though that no one ever comes back.  Turns out she knew Leonard from the intro, and he went up there because the bank was going to take his house and he met with an accident.

Sam says at least they know now what the downside is.  Dean doesn’t agree, he thinks it could be great, pool is the game of champions, kings, his game, our game, and they have great memories of hustling pool

Sam: yes, because we had to… to eat!

Still not seeing the “luck” Dabb wrote about.  Imagine thinking they were remotely lucky; running scams or hustling pool to put a roof over their head or food in their stomach. And this is where I disconnect with this week’s episode, because of last week’s writing. How are they going to even be good at pool, a game that takes practice and skill?  The things taken away seem to be random and plot devices; lock picking, fighting, hot metal burns, while it appears Dean can still drive okay, fix baby and I’m guessing their pool is going to be okay too, otherwise what’s the point of this episode?  There’s no believable rules to this “bad luck/normal” and I’m left completely drifting and because of it.  It's just badly thought out and executed.

Dean: if pool is the way we get our mojo back then maybe we ain’t as screwed as we thought

Waitress: Hey, you guys drive an impala?... I think you guys have a flat.

😂

Back with Cass and sheriff Jeb, Cass has managed to set up the laptop and access a video the sheriff has sent him.  The video is of Jack killing a doctor and eating his heart. 😷 Jack, no!  I’ll come back to the heart eating later.

Back with the boys, another shot of baby as they pull into “Lurlenes”.  Baby isn’t sounding too good and I think I missed that earlier, but it did somewhat register that she was sounding louder than normal. Good touch.

Dean walks over one of the coins as they head for the entrance which I guess might be Leonard’s from earlier.  I like little details like this.  Once inside, Sam points out they don’t have beer money, much less what it costs to buy into a game.  Dean says they’ll figure something out and goes to the bar and orders two waters. I’m guessing that’s going to hit Dean more than health conscious Sam.  Dean asks the bar person, Evie, how they get into a game.  She calls Pax over and it’s the tall, cutie bouncer from earlier.  Sam asks Evie if she saw Leonard and she says no, but you can tell she’s lying.

Pax takes them to his office and explains the rules of the game, that they don’t bet with money, they bet with luck.  He gets Dean to touch a coin he puts down and it turns green.  Pax looks at the coin and says “not great”

Dean: And that means?

Pax explains that everyone walks in with a certain amount of luck, that the green glow was Dean’s and it was “about average.”  Dean thinks that sounds about right.  I’m going to head-canon that Dean’s luck is about average of the people that find the pool hall, but below average in general, due to Chuck screwing around with them.

Pax says if Dean wins a game, he might see his fortunes improve.

Sam: And if he loses?

 Pax says he can keep playing, but if the coin goes blank, that means you’re out of luck, and you’ve got to leave.  He asks if they’ve got any questions.

Sam (a bit pissy): What is this place? Who owns it?

Pax says he doesn’t know, but if they don’t like it, they are free to leave.

Dean: When I win, can I split it (indicates Sam)… the luck?

Pax (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍 Oh, wait, sorry, that was me

Pax: it’s yours, you can do what you want

Sam asks for a second to talk to his husband brother.

Sam: no, no, no, no, no way (complete with shaking finger)

Dean: man, I’ve been slinging pool cues since before you were born

Snarky!Sam: when you were four, really? In between snack time and nap? 😂

Dean (internally): damn, I forgot you were my brother for a second and I can’t bullshit you

Dean tells Sam that they need to do this, and that Sam is pretty much better than him, at everything, he’s not mad about it, he’s proud… but he can wipe the floor with Sam at pool.  Dean takes Sam’s epic eyeroll as silent permission he can play.

Back with Castiel, he investigates the doctor’s office and finds a weird case which has a sword inside.  We flashback to a previous episode with Sam tied to a chair (🙄 it must have been a Thursday).  Anyway, the flashback tells us the doctor was one of the Grigori, a brotherhood of perfect beings.  I’d forgotten about them and might have to look them up before I touch the heart eating thing. Note: I did look them up and it was a Claire episode, so never mind, that’s why I forgot about them.

We transition from Cas to Jack and he seems to be following someone with the same case as the doctor, so another Grigori.  He follows the Grigori into an abandoned building.

Back at the pool hall and no one is biting to play with the noob.  Okay, I’m ashamed to say I laughed at this next bit, Dean deliberately breaks badly and loudly proclaims that he’s rusty at this.  Oh Dean.  No one’s going to fall for… Surprisingly he actually gets a taker and asks Dean to rack up.  Sam goes back to the bar to speak to Evie.  She asks if he plays and he says not really.  Sam asks Evie what the woman’s deal is that’s playing Dean (Moira).  Evie says she’s been here a while and her sister is in a coma.

Sam goes into awkward question mode, and I have flashbacks to the earlier seasons. He asks about rotten eggs.  Evie responds: Just Charlie…   We pan over to Charlie and he’s playing pool badly. Sam then asks if she’s seen “little bundles” laying around.  She says no, but she gets that he’s trying to figure the place out.  Sam says places like this don’t exist for no reason, she answers that most people think it’s a godsend.  She gives him information on a couple of people playing, they won at first, could have walked away winners, but kept playing until their luck ran sour. She repeats they should have walked away which is a clear warning for Sam who looks over at his brother who wins the game.

Back with Jack, he’s got an angel blade and is still after the Grigori. Unfortunately, the Grigori twigged he was being followed and now has Jack at blade point.

Back at the pool hall and Sam is trying to convince Dean they need to leave, and I’m trying not to be distracted by the picture in the scene behind them.

 Dean (brandishing his coin at Sam): Come on man, I’m on a roll

Snarky!Sam: Dean, you won one game!

Sam thinks the place sucks you in and that if Dean keeps playing, he’ll lose and end up like Leonard.  Dean convinces Sam who reluctantly allows him to have one more game.

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Dean finds his mark, which is Joey from the intro.  We see Dean playing well and Joey asks what his name was again.

Dean: my name is Dean Winchester and I am going to kick your ass.

Sam: 😍 that’s my platonic soulmate husband brother

Joey smiles.  

They talk as Dean clears the table.  Turns out Joey used to work the bull riding circuit.  

Dean (cocky smile): tell me, how was that?… corner pocket.   He misses the shot

Joey (grinning): good times (he pots and all he can do is hide the cue ball behind another ball, giving Dean a very tricky shot on the 8 ball)… and some not so good.

Dean goes to take the shot and Joey challenges double or nothing if Dean misses. Sam doesn’t like it.  Dean asks if Joey is trying to hustle him.

Joey: I thought you were going to kick my ass

Dean smiles and agrees to the deal, does a trick shot with the cue ball jumping over the other ball and potting the 8 ball.

Joey closes his eyes.  Sam looks happy, then Joey says: a hell of a shot.  

Dean watches as the coins glow green and Joey’s coin is now dull, and this is sad because even if Sam and Dean haven’t realised the implication yet, Joey is not long for this world.  Joey leaves, and Sam and Dean follow.  Joey congratulates Dean on the game yet again and says, “I guess you can’t hustle a hustler.” Sam’s concerned when Joey starts coughing.  Turns out Joey is dying, he has cancer, he came to the pool hall to beat it, and Sam and Dean have finally caught up with me that this game sucks.  This is the first time in a long time, I’ve felt anything for a character on this show that we only meet for a limited time in a single episode, so I’m going to kudos the writing and the guest star for this one. This is what happens when you actually put some characterisation into your writing.

Sam and Dean go back inside.  Dean said the plan worked so they should hit the road.

Sam: What about everybody else?

Sam wants to stay and figure out how they can help them. Dean reminds him they are in a fight with God and they just got their mojo back.  Sam challenges whether there’s even enough luck in the coin for them. Dean says they’ll give it a try by him going for a drive and if baby’s okay, they are leaving.  End of.

Back with Castiel and he meets sheriff Jeb at the abandoned building Jack was captured in. A transient spotted Jack going into the building so called the police. Castiel asks Jeb if there are any other abandoned places around. Jeb tells him about a church.

Back with Sam and he’s talking to Charlie, who is apparently playing so his team can win the Super Bowl and part of me is 😂 and part of me is, I feel you my friend, because Canucks and the Stanley Cup, and desperate measures at this stage.  

Sam: that’s great, it is, but is it really worth your life?

Me (picturing the Stanley cup being paraded through the streets of Vancouver): …Yes?!

The puppy dog eyes fail again, Charlie says “just one more game.” And goes back to playing

Evie says at least Sam tried but no one will listen.  She says none of “us” are going anywhere.  Sam asks if they are trapped here, if Evie was trapped here.   She leaves rapidly.

Dean arrives back, baby’s dead again, he didn’t even make it out of the parking lot. Sam takes a look at the coin Dean slams down.  He believes Dean should have won more luck than he did, given how many people Joey likely beat before Dean played him and all that accumulated luck should have gone to Dean when he won, but it doesn’t seem to.  Sam thinks someone is stealing the luck, skimming off the top.  

Dean: You mean like the house?

Sam (lifts coin showing head): her… I think

Dean takes the coin and reads: Atrox Fortvnta

Sam says she’s the Roman goddess of luck.  So, Sam’s allowed to be smart as a plot contrivance this week?  *cough* hot metal burns *cough*.  

They go speak to Evie about who runs the place.  She says she can’t help them. Sam asks why she warned him in the first place.  Evie says so he would take his brother and go.    Dean asks why Evie is there, does the god have something over her. Evie says she played and lost and is only alive because she lets her stay as long as she keeps working.   Sam asks if the god is here, but Evie doesn’t know, she only talks to Pax and drops the revelation that Pax is the god’s son.

Back with Jack and the Grigori has injured him and holding him captive. He knows what Jack is and that he’s powerful.  The Grigori wants to know why Jack killed his kind.  The Grigori have their own frequency of angel radio. Me, 🙄 of course you do because easy plot device.  Before his brother died, he called to the Grigori.  He asks Jack if he did that to draw him out, to kill him too.

Back with Sam and Dean, Sam approaches Pax wanting to ask a question. While Pax is focused on Sam, Dean grabs him and holds him at knifepoint.

Sam (niceness gone): Where’s your mom?

Loved that bit

Pax doesn’t answer so Sam shouts “Fortuna.”  Dean follows with, “We have your son”

 Moira walks through the pool hall and we know she is now Fortuna.

Sam says they know she’s skimming luck and they want it back.  Dean threatens to kill Pax if she doesn’t

Fortuna: well, you probably could, his daddy was human, but no

Pax (shocked pikachu face): Mom!

Fortuna: I’m sorry baby, I can always make more sons

Sam and Dean (shocked pikachu faces).  

Uh oh, leverage gone. Dean releases Pax, but not before the blade cuts his throat a little.

Dean demands Fortuna to play him for it. She says she’s already played him and got a read on him.  He’s just a “beach read”.  Sexy, but skimmable.

Dean (how dare you face): beach read? lady, I’m Tolstoy

Fortuna laughs and says, “That’s very funny” and approaches Sam: this one here, now he could be interesting

Dean (Protective big brother mode activated): Wait, no, no, that’s…. Uh uh

Sam (I’m 36 years old Dean, not a kid anymore mode activated): Fine… Yeah, okay, but not for our luck.  I’ll play for the lives of everybody in here.

Fortuna doesn’t agree, she says the deal is only for their luck and if they lose, she wants their lives.  She wants to make an example of them.

The Grigori is torturing Jack, cutting his skin.  Jack says he can’t kill him.  There’s then expose on the Grigori feeding off souls, and this one feeds off children. I think I’m supposed to not feel sorry for the Grigori when Jack eats his heart, but I do have a few issues which I’ll come onto later.  Jack looks to the side and it’s clear he catches something.  The Grigori reaches for his sword and points it at Jack’s throat. He asks who told Jack that.  He answers Death.  

The Grigori senses someone behind him.  Now given the Grigori are supposed to be elite and much more powerful than ordinary angels, I’m embarrassed for this one and have no idea how on Earth this Grigori managed to survive to being last of his kind as even Castiel despatched him fairly easily, without too much of a fight, but “new canon” I guess. 🤷‍♀️

With no tests whatsoever, Castiel releases Jack from his bonds.  I’m presuming one of Castiel random powers of the week is being able to automatically tell it’s Jack.  We get a Cass and Jack hug and I … don’t really care to be honest.  I can’t watch Cass without viewing that awful scene in Purgatory so I’m over him.

Back at the pool hall, Sam breaks, potting 2 balls immediately.  I love, love, love this next bit: as Sam lines up his next shot, we see Dean nodding in agreement, because yep, that’s the shot he would have went for too.   Sam proceeds to knock down a couple more, Fortuna has said a couple of things, but Sam is focusing on the game.  She asks why they need the luck so bad, girlfriend problems? Liver failure? (She looks at Dean here).  Sam answers: “a curse by god” and misses the next shot.

Fortuna: Life’s a bitch and then you die

Me: Hey! That’s my philosophy!

Dean: THE god literally cursed us

Fortuna (sarcastic disbelief): You’ve met

Dean: Yeah, Little guy, squirrelly as hell

Fortuna: Yeah, that’s him… well, welcome to the club

Dean: the club?

Fortuna answers with exposition while winning the game. God created the world, but humans created the gods, kind of, which led to God creating the other gods. Dean asks why, which makes her angry and she misses the next shot.  She says they were created to take the blame for anything that went wrong.  That only worked for a while before his ego got the better of him, now he hides behind whatever religion pays the biggest syndication deals.  She keeps talking about how pissed she is and that she’s holding a grudge.  Sam meanwhile is quietly potting balls and winning the game.  She realises this and shakes off her mood, “oh well, what can you do?”

Dean: we’re going to fight him

Fortuna: are you now?  And when you lose?

Sam’s voice from off screen: we lose swinging

He then appears in shot and says “8 ball, corner pocket” and she realises the game is nearly over.

Sam lines up for the shot, looks at Dean briefly, then… he wins.  I wasn’t expecting that, and Dean is happy too.

Fortuna (to Sam):  you little minx, you got me talking!

Sam smirks

Fortuna: you’re good

Sam: I learned from my brother

Dean approaches: all right, you know the deal, even up

Fortuna offers to make it interesting, if they are going to fight God, that’s the stuff of heroes and they are going to need the luck of heroes.  Hercules, some other people, she helped them all.  Sam asks what the catch is. She says another game, double or nothing.  

Dean: Double?  That’s how the cowboy died.

Sam agrees to play, “but not for more luck,” he indicates the room, “for them.  If I win, you have to let them go.”

Fortuna: I’m not stopping them

Sam: Okay, when I win, you have to give back the luck you stole, close up shop

Fortuna: What is with you and these losers?  They’re nothing, they don’t matter

Sam: they matter to me

Dean: they matter to us

Everyone in the poolhall (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Fortuna agrees.  She breaks, and it all goes downhill from there.  Sam doesn’t even get to play a shot.  

They lost. There’s silence

Fortuna: you challenged the goddess of luck in her own joint, what did you think was going to happen?

Me: pretty much this tbh, I’m actually surprised Sam won the first game

Dean: well, we had to try

Fortuna: well, that was stupid

My poor boys.  They leave the poolhall.

Dean: I thought she was going to kill us

Sam: well she doesn’t have to, our luck will do that on its own … Dean, we can’t just…

Dean:… leave ‘em?  Yeah, I know.

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Dean: all right, well let’s go get WiFi and see what kills Lady Luck, we’ll circle back

Sam’s agreeing when Evie comes out, followed by the other players.  They ask her what happened. She says Fortuna shut it down.  They ask why

 Evie: Because of you, she said she thought your kind had gone extinct

Sam: Our kind?

Evie: Heroes, like the old days

Fortuna also gave her a message to pass on, “Don’t play Chucks game, make him play yours.

She hands Sam a coin which he somewhat reluctantly takes.  He holds it in his closed fist as she walks away.  He opens his hand and we see the coin glow green on his skin.  Dean “grabby hands” Winchester snatches the coin, getting a glare from Sam and the coin glows green in his hand too.

They get into the car and Dean fires up the engine.  “We’re back baby!”  

Aww, Dean called Sam baby.  

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Also me: You can take your “Castiel is a lamp” sub zero text and whack yourself over the head with it.  

They drive away. And I’m left behind wondering if they’ve got their “normal” luck back or the supercharged hero luck that Sam said he didn’t want and that’s why he was reluctant to take the coin.

They arrive back at the bunker.  Dean’s scratching lottery cards and doesn’t win.  So much for the superhero luck.

Sam consoles his husband brother that they might not have won the lottery, but they have no car trouble, the credit cards work again, and Dean was able to eat back to back bacon double cheeseburgers, that didn’t kill him. So…

Dean: that was beautiful by the way… I’m just saying, would it have killed her to give us a little extra?

Sam: well, she thinks we’re really heroes, maybe they don’t get all the answers

Well hopefully that conversation answered my concern from earlier.

Cass appears, looking shifty (when doesn’t he tbh).  They know something is wrong and Sam asks him.  He steps aside and Jack appears. Jack dorky waves hello and we all melt and immediately forget he killed their mom and did some other really naughty stuff that at the very least should get him a time out.  Apparently, Dean and Sam forget too.    This scene is shot with Jack and Cass at one side of the reading room and Sam and Dean on the other.

Sam: Jack?

Castiel (to Sam): it’s really him

Sam walks over to Jack first and gets quicker as he reaches him and we get a Sam and Jack hug, and since I didn’t get one in season 14, I’ll ignore the mom killing, heart eating etc. for a few minutes and enjoy the hell out of this one. Yes, I’m fickle!  But I loved this nougat eating baby before Dabb ruined him.

Dean walks across more slowly, reaches and grasps Jack behind his neck, staring into his face as if checking it’s really him.  I think he’s struggling to see past the burnt-out eyes which was their last view of him.  He looks briefly at Cass once.  To me it’s a silent thank you (headcanon for bringing Jack back for Sam in particular), and an equally silent, you’re welcome.  Jack looks a little apprehensive as obviously the last time he was alive, Dean was going to shoot him, stopped only by Sam.

They all have a beer at the map table, Sam asks Jack about eating hearts, so it’s good that hasn’t been hidden.  Jack said he had to.

Dean (to Castiel): and you let him?

Castiel nods (likely waiting for the anger for doing the wrong thing)

Dean (shrugs): hmmm

And… that is not my Dean.  They’ve turned him into a neutered house cat and idiots are calling it “growth”.  And all I can hope is that his natural instincts fight their way through, I believe it’s wrong to trust Jack is okay eating hearts, even of ones that eat children’s souls and I hope we see that develop as we progress.

Sam: you could have called us

Jack: every day I wanted to come home, but I couldn’t

Dean: why not?

Jack: because if I don’t stay hidden, if I use my powers, my grandfather, he’ll know I’m back, and try and kill me… again… he’s afraid of me, and that’s why we had to wait.

Castiel: Billy kept him hidden in the empty, until Chuck went off world

Jack: she let me out when it was safe

Dean: safe to what? Eat a bunch of angel hearts?

Jack: safe to do what I have to.  

Turns out the hearts were just the beginning, they made Jack strong, but not strong enough.  If Jack follows her plan, he’ll get stronger and he’ll be able to kill god.

Sam and Dean (in winsync):  bitch please, this is our show!

Not really, that was just me and we end on that note.  I could wish we had ended on “The Gambler” by Kenny Rogers, but season 15 music budget.  Sigh.

So, I have a few other issues with this episode, particularly with the Jack side of the storyline, off the top of my head;  

1)      I’m hoping we aren’t sweeping what he did in season 14 under a rug, a la Castiel.  

2)      I’m hoping we aren’t just going to support him eating hearts (even of bad angels) without fully investigating what this supposed plan is.

3)      I’m struggling with the heart thing anyway. I don’t believe an angel has a heart to eat, only the human vessel does so I’m going to need an explanation on why eating human hearts is supposedly goring to make jack stronger, and why we don’t care about the human vessel

4)      I’m struggling with how a lesser god can give back what God took away, even if that lesser god is the goddess of luck, God still trumps her.  

Other than that, I think Death is bad now, or at least Billy’s version of death is. I think they changed course on wanting to kill the Winchesters a couple of seasons ago when they realised they could play a part in them reaping God. Possible reason, just being tired after all this time, and wanting it all to end. And it can’t end before Chuck dies. Possible power play.

I still think Chuck will die.  I still think the Winchesters will become firewalls, not sure what Jack is, other than a toddler whose power needs to be bound until he can wield it responsibly, and Castiel is going to sacrifice himself at some point. And the less we say about Eileen, the better.

Next episode is up after Hellatus the welcome break from the caricature this show has become 

[yojeongin]

compass; masterlist

pairing: art teacher!taehyung x mom!reader x producer!jungkook

type: bts parenting au, sm au, crack, fluff, and angst

summary: when picking up your son from school with your best friend in order to go to lunch, you meet your son’s art teacher as he posed as a model for your son’s painting, though you’re not looking for anyone that sensitive man helps you change your mind... even if someone else is thinking of coming back to your life. 

a/n: a well deserved masterlist in order to organize this all, lol uwu

[let me know if you want to be added to the taglist]

masterpost

—❁—

introduction

part 1: time to go back

part 2: jared, 19

part 3: see you tomorrow

part 4: ew team quirky

part 5: we cute

part 6: see you

part 7: losers

part 8: switching wigs

part 9: former artist

part 10: fbi in seoul

part 11: try again, bitch

part 12: agent yani

part 13: code blue

part 14: bittersweet

part 15: dad?!

part 16: I miss him…

part 17: blueberry cheesecake

part 18: I’m bitches

part 19: have my heart

part 20: I’ll be here

part 21: I like you too

part 22: ily

part 23: b-boyfriend

part 24: I think

part 25: hentai club

part 26: they fucking

part 27: he stank

part 28: lil meow meow

part 29: soon

part 30: euphoria

epilogue

recommend

if you liked compass, check out: sleepless