#before splitting off saves for these three romances

[hiddenbysuccubi]

I took a break before hitting act 3 of DOS2 to run through Rune Factory 4.

[fics-a-plenty]

Hurtful Words and Bear Hugs

Astarion x gn!reader x Halsin

Word Count: 1,411

TW: Spoilers for Astarion's story in Act 3, mentions Astarion's victims, reader crying

Hi! It's been awhile!

This game literally has me in a choke hold. I am so weak for these two men. I love that you can have a little romance between the three of you. 🥰

As always, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to send any requests for these two as they own my thoughts at the moment!

The days following their victory over his past master, Astarion had struggled with his thoughts and feelings. He felt terrible for how distant he had become, especially as you tried your best to be supportive. Yourself struggling with how to balance giving him his space and wanting to just hold the lost man until his world seemed to piece itself together again.

The one thing stopping him from his full blow guilt was that Halsin was there to distract you at times. The larger man seemed to have a better grasp on his emotions than Astarion did, always seeming to pull you off to some task that needed your attention just at the right times or to lead you back to Astarion's tent with hands and hearts full from their adventures whenever he felt the weight of loneliness creep back in. The pale elf was even sure that at times the druid spoke to Scratch and the owlbear cub to cause small bits of chaos or demand attention from you when he could no longer keep your focus.

Astarion was especially grateful for the times the three of you could spend time together in peaceful silence, either walking around near the camp or just sitting near the fire while he read next to you as you focused on redoing the braids on the side of Halsin's head. While the days seemed to be getting better, and his heart seemed to fill in the empty spots left behind by his revenge and the past that had lead to it, some days seemed to thrust him right back into the deep of it.

He pretended not to see the sad glances you shot him as you racked your brain for some way to help. He knew you meant well and normally he would appreciate it or tease you for how wrapped around his finger you were, but today it just seemed to be to much. He hadn't meant for the groan of annoyance to leave his lips as you came by his tent for the third time today, wanting to check in on him.

"What is it you could possibly want this time?" He snapped as he slammed his book shut, shooting a glare at you from where he sat in his tent. "If you're coming to see how I'm doing, let me save you the breath. I'm the same as I was the other million times you've interrupted me today. Now do you have something to actually contribute to my time or can I read in peace?"

It took a moment for him to realize just what had been said, and by the time the guilt had built up in his chest, your eyes had gone glossy. You turned your face away, not wanting him to see your tears welling up.

"I was just coming to tell you that Halsin and I were going into the city to get a hot meal. I was gonna see if you wanted to come, but I guess I'll let you read."

He could have sworn that he could hear his cold heart crack at the shake in your voice. His lips parted to apologize, but his throat tightened around the words before they could leave. He sat in silence as he watched you turn to walk back to where Halsin was waiting nearby.

His eyes met the druid's before you got to him. The wood elf's eyes seemed to be conflicted, split between knowing Astarion hadn't truly meant to hurt your feelings and the disappointment that the interaction had gone so wrong. Once the two figures were gone from sight, the vampire let out a deep sigh and tried to go back to his book. The words just wouldn't come to him now, and every thought seemed to lead back to the hurt look on your face.

Tossing the book onto the ground next to him, he ran his hands through his hair, partially wishing that he could physically push the thought to the back of his mind or even out of his brain altogether. Deciding to take a walk around camp, the lingering eyes of the other camp inhabitants pushed him to walk further and further away until the camp faded from view.

He wasn't even sure how long he wandered, lost in the downward spiral his mind had fallen into. The tears in your eyes fading into the tears of the past victims as they realized the pain he had lead into. Visions of the lives he had ruined flooded his mind until he couldn't take it. An almost feral scream ripped from his throat as he swung his fist against the trunk of a tree he had wandered to close to, another innocent victim to the control he didn't have over himself.

The pain pulsing in his hand seemed to help ground him as he fell to lean his back against the hard bark. He would have been a sight to anyone wandering by, the pale elf with a bloody hand resting in the ground. His fangs bared in his open mouth, and his chest heaving to try to catch his breath. The now rising moon beginning to reflect off the streaks of wetness down his face.

As his red eyes stared up at the glowing rock, he began to push through the dark thoughts, trying his best to lock them back in the recesses of his mind they belonged in. The sound of your voice began to ring in his mind, helping to fend off the thoughts of self doubt and hatred that lingered. The countless times you had told him that he was good enough, that he was worth being loved and cherished. The times you had kissed his face until these same bad feelings were long forgotten.

As his heart and breath began to settle, the world seemed to know what he needed in that moment, and the wind shifted to blow gently against his face. His lips curled up slightly as the faintest whisp of your scent kissed his skin as if you were there with him. It dawned on him that in the hours he must have been gone that you were probably running yourself wild with worry. A short laugh forced itself from his lips as he imagined Halsin trying to quell your panic, probably saying something about some time in nature doing him good.

The walk back to camp was much quicker that he imagined, his feet pulling him home faster as your scent got stronger. It lead him straight towards Halsin's tent. The deep sound of the man's snore was almost as if he was walking into a real bear hibernating.

He froze for a moment as he saw you curled up against the bear of an elf. Your hand slowly moving back and forth over the hairy chest being the only sign that you were still awake. His feet moved him toward you before he asked them to, before he could even worry about if you would want to see him. He crawled in carefully behind you, not wanting to wake the other. His hand hovered over your side, hesitating at the thought that you may still be hurt.

Your skin against his brought him back to the moment as you pulled his arm over your waist. You thumb began to move side to side on his wrist, your wordless forgiveness warming his chest and releasing tension that he didn't know he was still holding.

"I'm sorry." The words were so quiet as they left his lips that he wasn't even sure he has really said them.

"I know." The quiet response was just as possible to be a fantasy.

"I didn't-" His throat closed again as you turned to look over your shoulder at him.

"I know." Turning your face back forward, you brought his hand to your lips before squeezing it slightly and clutching it to your chest.

The moment of peace was interrupted by the sleeping druid rolling over and throwing his arm over the two. As his thick arm tightened around them, each you and Astarion let out a groan as you were both crushed into the bear hug. The smiles on the three faces and the quiet laughs drifting from the tent seeming to right every wrong in the world for just the moment as the two of you joined Halsin in a well needed night of rest.

[fabled-lady-twilla]

Hi, I'm Twilla and I'm currently in the process of writing a ShigaDeku Dystopia/Soulmate AU fic that no one, and I mean literally NO ONE, asked for! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Why do I always join fandoms late and why do I always somehow end up loving/shipping the rarepairs in fandoms that barely anyone likes or wants to read about lmao? 🥺👉👈

I just finished reading the latest manga chapter, watched all six seasons, and binged all three movies. I am absolutely BURSTING with ideas of where I want this story to go. I want to at least post the first chapter by the time ShigaDeku Week 2024 is here next month. :)

In my fic timeline, the MHA canon story line doesn't happen until Class 1-A's third year, and since my story is set six years after their graduation, most of the main characters are in their mid to late twenties. My story starts after the Quirk Affliction, a strange illness that begins killing off Quirk-users all around to world, resulting in a massive a death toll that causes civilized society to collapse.

Anyways, here's the general synopsis:

The Final War was over before it had even begun. With the onset of the Quirk Affliction, a mysterious illness that disproportionately targeted the Quirks of heroes over the Quirks of villains, the world was left defenseless as it plunged into a new era of chaos and devastation.

It’s been six years since the onset of the Affliction and the death of All Might. Six years since the world’s heroes, and the society they desperately fought to protect, have crumbled into dust in Shigaraki Tomura’s hands.

From the ashes of this destruction, Japan’s new regime was born. The country was split into three territories, each with its own Grand Commander, united in nothing save for one singular rule: life for those who submit, and death for those who do not.

As Grand Commander of the largest and most plentiful of Japan’s territories, Shigaraki has lived the last six years reaping the fruits of his labors and taking pride in helping his Sensei accomplish his dream. But as of late, Tomura has been having strange dreams of his own: hazy memories of an abandoned park, of blooming wisteria trees, of laughter and freckles and forest green eyes.

Midoriya Izuku, now Quirkless due to the Affliction, has not stopped his pursuit of helping others, despite the world — and everything in it — turning itself upside down. Izuku dreams of a brighter future, and strangely enough, dreams of his long-lost childhood friend, Shimura Tenko.

The same Tenko that Izuku had unknowingly befriended as a young boy. The same Tenko who’d stopped him from jumping off the rooftop all those years ago. The same Tenko that, Izuku realized with horror, was now the monster known as Shigaraki Tomura.

Unfortunately, Izuku learns all too late that having a Soulbond with the King of Villains comes with a heavy cost. Shigaraki seems hell-bent on keeping Izuku as close to him as possible, believing Izuku to be his Soulmate, and thus, Shigaraki’s only true weakness, stirring up an ill-fated romance that neither has prepared themselves for.

As a new calamity encroaches upon them in the form of a mad man attempting to become a god, the heroes and villains must find a way to work together and solve the mystery of the Affliction before it destroys the world and everything they hold dear.

✨ P l e a s e ✨ let me know if you're interested in hearing about this by either, liking, reblogging, or sending me a PM. I'm working really hard to get the first chapter of this out by ShigaDeku Week 2024 in May!

Thank you so much for reading. 💚💚💚

[blacklegsanjiii]

•°♤°• Read a Zosan fic where every single male (Except for the male Strawhats; compliments here and there) is attracted to Sanji and I'm so here for that. But think, what would happen if this thing happened in the ASL x Sanji or God AU? That would be so fuking funny and hilarious that alot of men are down bad for this beautiful blond cook with blue eyes with muscular legs and a gable waist.

I would also like to add for the God au that before Sanji lost his godly status and life, he placed the inability to all DF users to be unable to swim. This is their punishment because of what the WG did to the gods (Ex: Sabo, Ace, and Luffy).

First: Yeah, Sanji was fucking pissed and absolutely told the Elders and the World Government to get fucked during the void century and wrapped his most prized creations, amalgamations with the god of life, taking the ability to swim away. If they want to fuck with the gods the gods will fuck right back. Sanji was more than giving, he gave far more than he was worshipped which led to his followers always singing their praises to the ocean, so after the void century his followers were distraught to find the fruits, now called devil fruits because if you eat one you have betrayed the ocean, betrayed him. He is a god who forgives easily, you just need to give it back, it only costs your life. His partners had never seen the god so enraged because he used to bestow fruits to those were so utterly devoted to him or his fellow gods. Now? It doesn't matter if all three of his husbands have eaten a fruit, Ace and Sabo were old enough to remember what happened, Luffy might not have been but it doesn't matter, they do not get leeway either. It's probably a really fucking dark joke he makes despite how often he does save them, just grins at them and says he could always get his fruits back if they want to swim so bad. Sabo didn't eat a fruit in this from what I can find so Sabo spears Sanji overboard quite a bit to avoid his brothers.

I did read that fic as well I think? But like could you imagine the crew are meeting the other gods for whatever reason(how much do you think it would fuck with the romance dawn trio if Buggy was a god? Or the Cross Guild and Shanks?) And a lot of the gods and others are just flirting with Sanji. Nothing new, he's a handsome guy. He is married though, he has the marks from his godly spouses claiming him just as they do from him. Buggy is ruffling their hair and avoiding Luffy because he can't play nice with the god of luck and travelers in this life. Buggy looks at Zoro and just goes 'oh no, poor baby' and does nothing to fix his sense of direction because Buggy is a trickster god, tell me otherwise. Sanji is of course used to striking deals with the clown in past lives for the wayward travelers but also Buggy redirects so many gods from Sanji and tells the blond to quit being born pretty and Sanji rolls his eyes.

There's gods left and right grabbing Sanji and Buggy is sending body parts whenever Zoro and Luffy are distracted by some other god of whatever as they plan their assault on the Elders. The crews are fucking weirded out by the sheer godly power in front of them and how close the gods are to each other. Also Mihawk has to be digging deep into himself to find out the weakling of the Roger pirates is the god of luck and travelers and distracting so many gods from his normal waiter from Baratie who is the god of the ocean. Also Buggy keeps riling up Luffy and splitting apart to escape the sun god. Also he distinctly remembers Ace showing off his godly body at Marineford and watches him shoot off with the blond a few times. Sabo, the chief of staff for the revolutionaries for heaven's sake straight up attacks several gods for getting too handsy with his husband. Mihawk calls Shanks later and asks if he knew Buggy was a god like Luffy or Ace and the silence from Shanks on the other end of the denden is very telling as Crocodile is screaming next to him about how many gods there are and the strawhat crew has. This is a true test of will for them.

(I just had to make buggy the god of luck and travelers it's so him I'm not sorry)

[vauxxy]

sad, beautiful, tragic

distance, timing, breakdown, fighting

silence, the train runs off its tracks

kiss me, try to fix it

could you just try to listen?

hang up, give up

and for the life of us, we can get back

peter parker x reader!!

(treacherous part 2)

PLOT - in which peter parker tries to talk to his rival after multiple drunk make out sessions the previous night.

WARNINGS - sexual references, no smut, make out scenes, allusions to sexual activity, weed, smoking, kiss and makeup attitude

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

“just talk to her, don’t be an arse” gwen smiled, swaying with the movement of the subway. the sun peeked through the windows as the train made its way out of a tunnel and closer to their destination.

“what exactly are you supposed to say to someone you made out with like, 3 times while drunk?? especially if you used to hate their guts”

“i don’t know, ‘sorry i hated you before, i just internalised my fetish for goth stoners as hatred- let’s make out some more’ or something-“ gwen joked, before being cut off by a frustrated peter.

“are you kidding me? she’s gonna spot us across the carriage any second now and i won’t have any idea what to say to her!”

y/n sat cross legged in her seat, reading some depressing book from the early 1900’s about some depressing characters, written by a depressed closeted gay man. she tucked a chunk of hair behind her ears before re-adjusting her headphones. “i bet she’s listening to fucking my chemical romance or korn or some shit,” peter chuckled as his eyebrows furrowed, gripping onto the hanging bars of the train carriage.

“nope, look on spotify,” gwen corrected. peter turned away from y/n to look over at gwen, his eyes drifting to the screen of her phone.

“it says she’s listening to… taylor swift?” she said, a confused expression painted on her face. peter jolted his head back in shock, overcome with anxiety. “aunt may loves taylor swift…” he murmured, the rustle of the train carriage pulling him away from gwen.

“let me see what song,” peter insisted as he gestured to see gwen’s phone. she passed it over to him, watching his face move as he read the title.

“sad, beautiful, tragic… i’m pretty sure that’s from red, right?” peter questioned. gwen shrugged her shoulders in response. “i don’t know. i’m more of a midnights and evermore type of girl” she replied. peter scrolled down to the lyrics of the song, his eyes widening and his lips pursing.

“gwen, i’m totally fucked”

y/n had slept on what had happened the previous night. spider-man saved her from getting robbed and gave her some very unhelpful advice. what the fuck would spider-man know anyways? he doesn’t get any bitches. y/n may have also ghosted peter, but who cares? y/n put her heart out on the table, for some reason expecting more from the person who constantly teased her everyday for 2 years. sure, she should’ve saw it coming, but she didn’t. which is why she was going to be as dramatic as possible.

this meant a new playlist. no more limp biskit; nobody cries to ‘break stuff’!! it was time to listen to the entire red album on repeat, along with ‘ultraviolence’ and elliott smith. y/n was fully ready to be a sad little bitch.

on monday morning, she scored a seat on the subways and started listening to her new playlist, putting on one particular taylor swift song on repeat while she read her sad little bitch book. she looked up for a split second to see peter and gwen talking.

‘oh, so he can make time to talk to gwen, but not the girl he snogged three times?’ y/n thought.

y/n turned up her volume and put away her book as she listened to the lyrics of the song. the train pulled up to the station within walking distance to her school and so she stood up. catching the eye of peter as she walked to the doors, she quickly averted her gaze and took a few steps back.

peter flinched at the sudden eye contact, turning his full body towards gwen. “gwen. do something” he anxiously muttered. gwen nodded, smiling innocently, before beginning to casually walk over to y/n.

“y/n! how’d that hangover treat you?” gwen asked, pulling in y/n for a comfortable hug. y/n smiled hesitantly and embraced the act of affection. “so, so badly,” she replied, thinking back to the incident that followed the day after the party.

“the hangover is the least of my troubles” she stated and she glanced over at peter, who was watching both of them. “oh, do you mean…” gwen asked as she gestured over to the lanky boy trailing behind them, walking onto the platform as the train doors opened.

“what? no! i was mugged,” y/n announced, arching her eyebrows. peter didn’t look surprised. y/n took note of this, feeling somewhat offended that he didn’t care.

“y/n! are you okay?? how did that happen?” gwen asked, completely and utterly shocked. peter walked over. “wait, yeah… are you okay y/n?” he asked, breaking out of his anxious state for one moment.

y/n sighed softly, rolling her eyes. “i’m fine, spider-man saved me and then gave me some very unhelpful advice.” she said as she pursed her lips, her eyes darting between gwen and peter. “he’s a total ride though- i hope he’s not like… 46 or something,” she continued. gwen chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand as her cheeks turned pink. “did you get to feel his abs?” she asked as the trio walked across queens to get to school.

“yeah, they were rock hard. i didn’t expect him to be so fit!” y/n exclaimed. peter tried to stifle his blush as they got closer to the school, blocking out their conversation.

as they entered the gates, gwen quickly walked towards her class, leaving the two alone.

“um, we have math-“

“i know, peter” y/n interrupted. her voice was cold and unemotional- a stark difference form her previous cheerful demeanour. this was the guy that she was squabbling with for years now… the guy that she also maybe had a few steamy dreams about as well. her preconceived notions about peter were contradicting with her fantasies and the realities of what happened over the weekend- causing her to spiral into a semi-depressed state of rage.

peter, on the other hand, knew exactly what he thought of y/n. he always thought that she was attractive, but a total arse. now, he found her being an arse super endearing. but that could have something to do with the fact that they made out 3 times and he almost touched her boobs.

the two walked in awkward silence to their math class, a strong tension in the air. they took their seats and sat painfully silently for an hour.

y/n tapped her pen on her notebook, not listening to a word the teacher was saying. ‘fuck it,’ she thought, ripping out a piece of paper.

she scribbled a few words down before passing it over to peter.

‘make up for ghosting me by skipping second period and hiding in the unisex bathrooms’

‘sure :)’

the unisex bathrooms were dimly lit, far away from the rest of campus. surrounded by unused classrooms. the unisex bathrooms were a prime hookup spot… but for y/n, it was her own personal hotbox.

she lit the end of her joint and put her lighter in her jacket pocket as she leaned against the bathroom wall. y/n took a drag as she stared at the wall. she took another short hit, before passing it to peter. he did the same, his legs crossed.

“so why didn’t you text me, dick face?” she started, crossing her arms. smoke escaped her lips as the talked, mesmerising peter.

“dick face?” peter repeated, stifling a grin as he shook his head.

“um… i guess i didn’t know what to say,” he replied, passing back the joint. y/n smiled awkwardly as she rolled her eyes. “classic parker…”

“well, do you know what to say now?” y/n asked, sliding down to the floor, head level with peter. he shrugged his shoulders. “kinda,” he muttered.

“are you gonna say it, mcslutty?”

“i don’t appreciate the name-calling, y/n.” he said irritably, his voice somewhat breathy.

“you ghosted me too, remember?” peter added, raising his eyebrows.

“yeah, but i was mugged!” she said defensively, opening her mouth in shock. “obviously i was too busy!”

peter laughed, covering his face. “fair point.”peter pursed his lips, looking down before taking another hit of the joint.

peter took a deep breath in, tapping the floor anxiously. “i really like you, y/n” peter averted his eyes. “i used the think i didn’t, but i was just lying to myself so i wouldn’t have to confront the fact that there’s actually nice stuff about you,” he’s smirked.

y/n chuckled. “what nice stuff?”

“your face, obviously. your musical skills, your rolling skills. you’re also really funny, and you’re so generous. you’re not nice to everyone, but you still help everyone- if that makes sense? but yeah… shit like that i guess,”

y/n smiled sincerely, slightly tilting her head to the side. “that’s pretty sweet, shithead”

it took them a whole 40 seconds before they started jamming their lips together, peter’s hands gripping y/n’s waist as she sat on top of his lap. her hands cupped his face gently, occasionally pulling a hand away and running it through his hair.

she pulled away for air, before continuing her attack on his lips, her hands trailing down his torso as she fiddled with his shirt. peter pulled away, looking up at her before her eyes drifting to her hands.

“what are you doing there?” he asked teasingly, his voice limited to a hoarse whisper.

she began to frantically kiss his neck, her hands still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. “felt something hard. wondering if you’re ripped or just really horny.” she muttered breathily, one hand resting under his shirt as she caressed his torso, while the other hand gripped a bundle of his hair.

he looked as her curiously as she felt up his chest, watching her pull away with a look of shock and confusion. “peter? what the fuck?” she exclaimed, her hair messy and cheeks red.

“what? what’s wrong?” peter asked, panicked as his eyes drifted down to his pants, before meeting her eyes again. his face turned red, putting up his hands in surrender.

“hey, you were the one grinding against my-“

“no, you’re fully ripped!” she whispered, her eyes wide as her hand retracted from under his shirt. “jesus christ…” she muttered, lifting his shirt to take a peek.

peter burst out into a fit of dry laughter, tilting his head back and lightly hitting the wall of the bathroom stall.

“oh, yeah. that.” he said casually. y/n grumbled, standing up.

“right. i was not expecting that.” she huffed, her face completely red.

“anyways, i’m not fucking you in a hot-boxed bathroom stall at school. if you decide to stop being a little bitch and message me, maybe i’ll forgive you for ghosting me.” y/n proposed, leaning against the wall as she looked down at peter.

peter nodded, standing up. he opened the door, turning to face her. “yeah, i definitely won’t be ghosting you anytime soon. sorry about that, by the way.” he murmured.

“it’s fine. just as long as you send me a picture of your abs after school.” she demanded, her face completely serious as she looked peter up and down. peter nodded, his eyes wide.

she bit her lip, meeting his eyes once again. “seriously, they’re almost as good at spider-man’s.” she added, exiting the bathroom- leaving peter alone to deal with his thoughts.

[ms-m-astrologer]

The Week Ahead: March 11-17, 2024

A couple of caveats before I get going: one, stupid fucking Daylight Savings Time begins in the US at 2 am local time on Sunday morning - the clocks all go from “01:59” to “03:00;” two, we all enter the “Shadow of the Eclipse” on Friday, March 15. (The Ides of March! Splendid!! /snark)

Lunar Phases

Thursday, March 13, 14:32 UT - Crescent Moon, 8°30’ Taurus

The key phrase for the Crescent lunar phase is “gather and mobilize resources.” We’re practical about it, and can accept good advice, too. We may go a bit overboard as far as quantity goes, looking for several months’ worth of supplies rather than a few weeks.

Sunday, March 17, 04:11 UT - First Quarter Moon, 27°04’ Gemini

The key phrases for the First Quarter lunar phase are “take action,” and “build new structures to support our intentions.” It would be better to wait a few hours, until the Moon enters Cancer at 09:40 UT - before then we can’t see clearly and may think we have more options than actually exist.

Void of Course Moon

Tuesday, March 12, 11:08 UT (Aries) - Wednesday, March 13, 00:28 UT (Taurus)

Thursday, March 14, 22:29 UT (Taurus) - Friday, March 15, 03:16 UT (Gemini)

Sunday, March 17, 04:43 UT (Gemini) - 09:40 UT (Cancer)

Retrograde/Direct/Etc.

Pre-retrograde shadow: Ceres/Capricorn, Pallas Athene/Sagittarius

Retrograde: Juno/Virgo

Post-retrograde shadow: Vesta/Gemini, Jupiter/Pisces

Ingress

Monday, March 11, 21:50 UT - transiting Venus enters Pisces

Venus likes to be here. It’s the sign of her “exaltation” - Pisces brings out her best, provided we keep away from self-pity and dissolute behavior, and manage some healthy boundaries.

Et Cetera

There are two Opportunity Periods this week:

Monday, March 11, 03:15 UT - Tuesday, March 12, 11:08 UT. “Channel your energy and enthusiasm into your new ventures under this positive New Moon.”

Thursday, March 14, 17:57 UT - Friday, March 15, 03:16 UT. “An excellent OP for the arts, romance, or even earthy, practical matters.”

Next week is intense. In order:

Mercury enters its pre-retrograde shadow;

Aries Equinox;

Mars enters Pisces;

Jupiter exits its post-retrograde shadow; and

Saturn enters its pre-retrograde shadow.

Therefore, this week, I think we should focus on building up our strength! That first Opportunity Period is especially conducive for doing that.

The “shadow of the eclipse” is a period of time lasting ten days before the first eclipse, to three days after the last one. It’s supposed to be a time of waiting and watching for any disruptions the eclipses bring. It isn’t advisable to start anything important during this time, unless we don’t care if it splits off into unforeseen tangents. (And hey, sometimes we are up for that, right?)

[b0ttled-r0zez]

STRANGER THINGS SPOILERS

Erm…season 5 hcs/predictions 😔😔 (in my stranger things era) Also long post

So. We know a glimpse of the script got leaked? Well if you didn’t here:

So we know it’s Will, like duh. I think it’s gonna be a flashback to season 1. I have/had a few Headcanons, since Yk how season 4 ended.

It’s gonna take place in a dangerous upside down like, post apocalyptic environment.

Dart might make a comeback, like in the tunnels, Dustin giving him a three musketeer broke its connection with the mind flayer.

He might befriend the group

After he tries to rip Mike’s arm off

Because he tries to pull a Jurassic park move and got Tessa’d

Mike gets seriously hurt 3 seconds into the apocalypse, Dart puts a huge scar/bite mark on his wrist and hand and get his calf bitten and torn by a demogorgan

Will helps (duh)

All the demo creatures get released

People die

El and Mike split up cuz toxicity (and El is an independent woman)

The kid gang is 17/18, the older teens (Steve and Jonathan for ex) around 23/24 and the adults don’t really matter, and Erica is 14

We have a heartfelt Byler coming out scene

The byler kiss takes place in the worst and angsty time possible

Will gets taken by vecna

Idrc if Eddie comes back

Max is permanently blind with messed up bones

They live in Hopper’s cabin

The byler kiss I want to take place in A) The rain while they are having a dispute about whether one goes to save or kill something or B) In castle Byers in the upside down before it was destroyed

Kinda want Rockie, Jopper, Jancy, Lumax, Duzie, and of course can’t forget Will and Mike.

I want a mutual break up between Mileven

No hard feelings between them

I want them to fight Vecna and close the gates

I want them to find Lonnie’s dead body

Dart could be a pet

Will did not agree and Mike doesn’t like dart

Angela dies some how

We get a bunch of fight, fear, and flashbacks

Some angsty romance

Suzie comes back

And a happy ending

Will almost dies

So silly. I doubt my Apocolyptic theme is going to happen but I really like this and have made fan art so yup!

[torchickentacos]

This April 1st, I'm going to be normal about pokeani <3

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LMAO GOTTEM GET REKT ok so

Can we talk about the characters of the day from AG014. What the fuck. Why are they so weird. They're twins. Forrest and Forrester, surname Franklin. They both go by Franklin for some ungodly reason. They look identical with only a minor difference in their outfits. Forrest is a ranger. Of the park variety and not a pokemon ranger. Forrester, his twin, is not a ranger afaik, I think he's just kind of there???? They were both born right outside of Rustboro, but both brothers only have Johto bug type pokemon, and we know that Forrest has never been to Johto because his whole episode arc is May inspiring him to travel on his own, because he's too scared to. He admires her strength and independence or whatever, but we're on AG014, May's only been doing this traveling gig for like a week and she is comically terrible at it for the entire first season and a half. She’s incompetent, said with utmost love and respect. She's only got a torchic and a wurmple right now. Forrest admiring her traveling abilities is like admiring a microwave's ability to be an industrial kitchen. They also give him some pseudo-romance plot with her, because pokeani May was out here captivating multiple people with her dumbass swag. Drew, Forrest, and Sid being the canon ones I remember off the top of my head, but also probably Dawn tbh, and I’m like 85 percent sure she accidentally homewrecked Pacifidlog Joshua even if he didn’t actually like her but I last saw that episode when I was maybe eight years old, so grain of salt. What the fuck. Anyways, Forrest’s all "Oh, seeing you all independent makes me want to travel with you guys! :)" and between that and the weird crush subplot, you'd think they were setting him up to be this important next traveling companion. He's set up as this important guy who's going to stick around. Nope. We never see this guy or his brother ever again. Never again. He shows up in one episode, doesn't elaborate on literally anything, and then leaves. Let's go back to the fact that he has an identical twin, their names are Forrest Franklin and Forrester Franklin, AND THEY BOTH INTRODUCE THEMSELVES AS FRANKLIN? YOUR FIRST NAMES ARE ALREADY BASICALLY THE SAME THING ANYWAYS. WHAT FRESH HELL. 

More random facts. He looks vaguely like Kenny to me. He made his way into one of those pinterest edits. He shares a name with one of Brock's little brothers. His ship name with May is Bugshipping. You know. Because of the bugs. He's voiced by ANDREW RANNELLS. READ THAT AGAIN. He shares a VA with Harley. I’m just at a loss. Pokeani voice acting is its own rabbithole that leads you places like knowing that the following characters share a voice actor: Drew, Brock, Scott, that Magnemite from Journeys, Ghetsis, and King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule. Also the red and yellow M&M in the 2008 M&M wii game. There were four voice acting credits for that game. He was three of them. The only character he didn’t voice seems to be the green M&M, which is actually hilarious given the whole Drew and Ghetsis thing. Anyways.

I'm sure I could go on. Pokeani has so many COTDs that are like this (weird). I could talk about the watermelon farmer. I could talk about Samurai. There's Max (no, not that one). I could talk about fucking. sigh. TOMMY/TOMO/WHATEVER HIS NAME IS. WHATEVER THAT EPISODE WAS. Lord knows I could talk about Brianna (girl... /judgmental). There's essays to be written about Mikey and his weird brothers. I could talk about the dead guy that May and Meowth saved and created a new timeline for, because this dude knocked up his wife and then died in a snow-induced train crash before his wife could tell him about their child, and their grandchild looks weirdly like Brianna. But the dead guy is fine. Don’t worry. May and Meowth saved him with the help of a magical locket. Unclear how or why or literally anything. Just not worrying about it. And there’s the whole split timeline thing. Thanks pokeani. Back to other characters. I need to study Roderick and his little bellsprout and wynaut army and the fact that Paul’s his grandson (allegedly) under a microscope. Solidad might as well be a COTD, but lord knows now isn’t the time for The Solidad Rant. Then there's this next guy with a fucked up family situation. Timmy Grimm. He sounds like a Wizard 101 necromancer. Nobody in pokeani gets a last name but for some reason TIMMY GRIMM did. There's Damian and Seymour and Bill and honestly every single person who showed up in OS tbh. Then there's like. Marble. Old Man Swamp. STEVELAND AND HALVERSON. WHAT KIND OF NAMES EVEN ARE THOSE. S T E V E L A N D  AND  H A L V E R S O N . Steveland……………

You guys wanna know the worst part. Not a single damn thing I said here was an April Fool’s joke. None of it. Everything here is true. I have the world’s most fucked up citations list to prove it. Here. Have it. I don’t even care. It’s in MLA 8 format, but probably wrong because I always lose points for messing up on citations on every paper I write. I’m posting this post and then calling it a day. I’m going to go make some coffee. No in text citations because I can't actually be bothered to put that much effort into this tbh, so. Here. World's worst citations list. I don't even care.

Works Cited

Behindthevoiceactors.com. “Bill Rogers (visual voices guide).” Behind The Voice Actors, https://www.behindthevoiceactors.com/Bill-Rogers/. Accessed 1 April 2024.

Behindthevoiceactors.com. “M&M's Adventure (2008 Video Game).” Behind The Voice Actors, https://www.behindthevoiceactors.com/video-games/MMs-Adventure/. Accessed 1 April 2024.

Bulbapedia. “Forrest Franklin - Bulbapedia, the community-driven Pokémon encyclopedia.” Bulbapedia, https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Forrest_Franklin. Accessed 1 April 2024.

Bulbapedia. “Joshua (Coordinator) - Bulbapedia, the community-driven Pokémon encyclopedia.” Bulbapedia, https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Joshua_(Coordinator). Accessed 1 April 2024.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Living Up To The Legacy P.6 ✈️ | Top Gun Maverick Series

Contains major spoilers for TGM

Catch up on the series -> Series Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Lt. Barbara ‘Legacy’ Mitchell!OC (past/eventual romance), Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x daughter!OC (platonic). Lt. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace (platonic/best friend), every other character in this is a platonic pairing

Content Warnings: profanity, smoking, light angst, fluff, allusions to smut and suggestive content— Minors DNI!! | Female OC (She/her) | wc: 5k+

Premise: The day has come for the special detachment to embark on their mission of blowing up a uranium plant before it is operational. After weeks of denying re-emerging feelings, Barbara and Bradley have found their way back into each other’s arms and have to come to terms with the reality they face moving forward. And their future isn’t the only one at stake on this mission for Barbara may lose the chance to reignite the bond between her and her once estranged father, Pete Mitchell.

Note: this is shorter than the previous chapters and probably will be the shortest of all (except maybe the epilogue). I’m debating on making the last 30 min of the movie one long ass chapter or splitting it up please. I originally had this story as 6 chapters, but then decided on 7 and may do 8 unless you guys are okay with waiting for the last chapter. I am a grad student and currently have a lot of important assignments this month that may put this story on the back burner. I’ll still work on it a little day by day, but may not be able to pump out three thousand words a day like I normally have. I’ll keep you guys updated and I hope you enjoy this chapter ♥️

———————————————

“Talk to me, Goose.”

The words that stuck with him even thirty years after he was gone. Maverick stood alone on the carrier below the deck as the breeze from the ocean before him kissed his face. The memory of him throwing Goose’s tags into the sea as a final send off. Gone, but never forgotten.

“Captain Mitchell,” her voice called to him seconds later, and Maverick slowly turned to see Barbara standing in her flight suit free of gear with tears in her eyes. “Dad,” she corrected, which sent a wave of emotion through him. “You’re where you belong.”

Mav was holding his own tears which he was sure spilled once Barbara approached and launched into his arms. They held each other tightly, Barbara pushing her face against Mav’s chest as his one hand cradled the back of her head. “Make us proud,” she whimpered out, letting the emotion overtake as she tightened the hold around his waist. “And come home. Please.”

A tear dropped from his eye, “I promise.” At that moment the overhead tarmac dropped down and together the two Mitchell’s walked onto it with Mavericks arm around Barbara’s shoulder while hers rested on his waist. As it brought them onto the deck Barbara thought back to the past 48 hours leading to that moment.

When Rooster shamelessly admitted he already had his stuff packed in his Bronco following a much needed second round, he cleared her up and brought her into his arms for some much needed sleep. It was just before midnight when they knocked out—neither wanting to discuss the future—and awoke just after 4 am. To save time they showered together with both having to face away from each other for fear it would lead to something more.

They didn’t have time for that and Barbara would rather sit naked on a hot grill than explain why both she and Rooster were late to the docks.

Her plan was to have him leave before her to avoid suspicion from the others, but Bradley just shook his head and said, “Are you seriously going to ride your bike when you have a backpack and duffle? Just throw it in the Bronco, we’ll go together.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea….”

“What, are you worried about what they may think?” He scoffed, snapping his belt and making sure it was lined with the seam of his uniform. When Barbara went to start a pot of coffee before their shower he had gone to get his stuff. “Hate to break it to you, baby, but they already know.”

“And how exactly do they know?” Barbara questioned with suspicion, lightly coating her eyelashes with mascara before moving to grab her blow dryer. Now she was definitely not looking forward to being on the carrier.

Rooster just smirked at her through the mirror, adjusting his collar. “Wasn’t really hiding my intentions when I asked Phoenix for your address, Barb.”

“Oh,” she hummed, taking her wet brush and running it through the wet strands of hair. “Your intentions were to seduce your ex-wife back into bed. I see.” A gasp escapes her mouth when Rooster’s arms suddenly go around her waist and pull her back to his chest. She nearly drops the brush when he leans down to nip her earlobe.

“My intentions were to win back the woman I love who I made the mistake of walking away from. The sex was a plus.” He pressed a kiss to her jaw, meeting her eye in the mirror. The flush of her face brought Rooster satisfaction, lips curling up as he pressed into her. “Let’s not forget, you’re the one who wanted to dance for me.”

Fuck he got her there. Barbara did initiate round two because to be fucking honest their sex life was never just one and done. Neither were satisfied until at least three orgasms unless they were exhausted from the day. And as a switch, Barbara loved dancing on Rooster to the point he was a babbling mess for her.

His kisses along her jaw and neck brought her out of the lustful thoughts, Barbara gently breaking away with a playful expression. “Now, now, Bardshaw. You know the rules when in uniform. Best to not disrespect it any further.” He groaned, adjusting his pants before checking his watch to see it was already pushing 4:30. Thank God Barbara lived just down the street from the docks.

“Like we haven't done worse,” he snickers when she yelps as he lands a light slap to her ass before walking out of the bathroom to move their bags to the Bronco. While he’s out Barbara quickly dries her (thankfully) short hair in record time and straightens it lightly to give it a cropped effect. With a ‘Hmm’ she realizes she could easily pull off a Mia Wallace look for Halloween.

Putting on some simple studs and giving one last look over to make sure her uniform was polished, Barbara takes her phone, cigarette tin, and any last minute items she forgot before leaving her room. She doesn’t bother making the bed after much debate….the sheets would have to be washed when she returned. Dumping out any leftover coffee and hand washing it, Barbara locks up her home and meets Rooster outside in the already running Bronco. It was still dark out, the horizon just barely starting to light up in the distance.

The second she’s closing the door his lips are on her before she could even buckle up. “What was that for?” She asks with an exhale, surprised by the gesture. Rooster just smiles and replies, “I doubt being on the carrier we’ll be able to be together much. Just in case that was the last time I got to kiss you, I wanted it to be where it felt like home.”

Water lined her eyes, Barbara sniffing as emotion coursed through her. Without warning her hand goes to the back of his neck and pulls him to her again. The kiss is much like the one they shared at the tarmac the day before. Slow and full of love. It would have gone on longer if her phone alarm hadn’t scared the shit out of them.

“Fuck—sorry,” she hits the dismiss, reading the time at 4:40. She mentally patted herself on the back at the fact she managed to shower, dress, do her hair and get out of the house in an impressive amount of time. All with her…ex? Boyfriend? Undecided partnership? They’ll figure it out after the mission.

The golden rule of being in the military: if you’re early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late.

The docks were only a short drive down the street and a left turn into the parking lot, but they couldn’t risk being late. “We should get going.”

“Yeah,” Rooster agreed, kissing her blushing cheek and leaning back into his seat. Barbara buckled in as he reversed in the driveway before starting down the road out of her small neighborhood which consisted mostly of beach houses. The entire drive Rooster held Barbara's hand, bringing it to rest on his right thigh. The music was at a low volume, Barbara had her window down to let the cool breeze from the ocean saunter in.

When they arrived at the docks, most of the team had already arrived. It looked like most had the same idea of carpooling. Harvard and Yale were with Omaha. Phoenix, and Halo caught a ride with Bob while Fanboy hitched one with Payback. Lastly Hangman was pulling in at the same time as them with Coyote.

“You ready?” Rooster softly asked as he shut off the engine and unlocked the doors. The answer didn’t come in words but a simple nod, Barbara giving him a small smile as he grabbed her hand again to gently squeeze it.

As they got out of the Bronco and moved to the back to retrieve their bags. Neither turned to face their fellow aviators who were all pretty much gawking at the sight before them—which they expected. Phoenix was the only one with a genuine smile, happy and relieved to see the two together. Hangman and Coyote expressions were more of, ‘well I’ll be damn.’ The others were a mix of both though they couldn’t help but be surprised at the timing.

Thanking Rooster as he handed her the backpack and duffle, Barbara pulled it around her shoulders and slung the duffle strap onto one. Once Rooster was ready and the car was locked, they walked side by side to meet with Phoenix and Bob who were kind enough to wait on them. There was no mistaking the knowing look Phoenix was sending the two, brows raised to silently say, ‘Lovers quarrel has been settled?’

“Phoenix, Bob,” Barbara nods, removing the cigarette from behind her ear to place it between her lips.

“Morning you two,” Nat smiles, watching Barbara light the tobacco as she comes to her side. Bob and Bradley share a bro handshake, but not before the latter sends a look of disapproval to Barbara.

“This is my last one for a while, okay Bradshaw? Get off my ass.”

Rooster clicks his tongue, trying to stop the smirk from forming, “Wasn’t gonna say anything, but glad to hear it.” Barbara rolls her eyes, walking ahead of the men with Phoenix and leans in to whisper, “He secretly finds it hot, but won’t admit it.”

With a laugh Phoenix nudges her fellow aviator while wiggling her eyebrows, “I take it you two made up?” A huff is her reply, but make no mistake the expression gives Barbara away.

“We’re working on it.”

“I’m happy for you. Really, you two are like Yin and Yang.”

Barbara lets her gaze flicker to the ground briefly after blowing the smoke in the opposite direction, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Phee. We’ve got more pressing matters to focus on.” That has the Lieutenant tilt her head, remembering a certain topic of discussion she’d been dying to ask Barbara about.

“You think Cyclone will really fall through? I mean court-martialing when all you did was prove he was wrong about changing—.”

“I stole a multi million dollar jet, Phee. I quite literally broke the law,” Barbara was aware the two men were more than likely listening to their conversation for their own had fallen silent. She could feel Rooster’s eyes on her. “He can’t go after Maverick just yet, but he can punish me right now. Trust me, the worst thing that could come out of it is a dishonorable discharge.” In the corner of her eye she saw Phoenix draw in a sharp breath. “But maybe the judge or whoever decides my fate will see it was necessary and demote me or hell I don’t know. All I know is I made my bed, now it’s time for me to lay in it.”

“Still I don’t think it’s fair,” Phoenix comments, watching Barbara finish the bud before discarding it in the ashtray on the trash can. “With what Cyclone was planning, none of us would have a chance. It would have put us in harm's way. I mean, yeah we knew the risks and accepted them by doing this job, but still I don’t think anyone is truly ready to lay down their life. And when their superior sees it like that it drops their confidence.”

“I know,” Barbara mutters, pinning a glance to her friend with solemn eyes. “That’s why Mav and I did what we did. He wouldn’t forgive himself if anything happened to you guys out there.” Pain filled her heart at the thought of Maverick losing his wingman. The man has seen more death than the average human and though he acts like it doesn't bother him, Barbara can see the toll it takes on him daily.

Once on the carrier they were issued their rooms with Barbara bunking with Phoenix and Halo. She and Rooster exchanged one last glance before they were separated. Mav had yet to be seen, and Barbara assumed it was because he was doing last minute briefings with Cyclone and Warlock.

Throwing her duffle on the bottom bunk to claim it, much to the annoyance of Phoenix who Barbara just sent a cheeky look to since Halo had already claimed the second bottom bunk, Barbara unpacked her portable memory foam cushion, pillow and thick blanket to lay on the bed. “God, I’m always reminded why I hate being offshore with these damn back breaking mattresses.” The two women make sounds of agreement.

“Hey,” Phoenix sticks her head over from the top bunk, “I just wanna make sure we’re on the same page. We—,” she waves a finger between her and Cali, “won’t have to deal with the possibility of walking in on something between you and Rooster—.”

“Trace, do not finish that sentence!”

“I just want to make sure I don’t see anything I’m not supposed to, C.”

“For God's sake, I am not that shallow. You know the rules.”

“Oh, now you care about rules. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard those words come out of your mouth.” Barbara flipped her off, making the brunette giggle.

“Gotta keep on my P’s and Q’s if I wanna keep my job,” she mumbles under her breath. Last thing she needed was Cyclone adding more shit to his case against her.

“So you two are back together?” Halo wonders with a smile. Barbara groans, putting a hand to her face while the other flips off Phoenix again. Her laughter has the woman tilt her head back with closed eyes like she was praying to a higher power to give her the strength.

She could only imagine what Rooster was dealing with.

Barbara brings her hands together with a deep exhale, “It’s complicated. He came over last night. We…..talked—.”

“Yeah right,” Phoenix snorted. “I saw the look in that man’s eyes last night when he asked for your address. He was on a mission.”

“Natasha…”

“Look, you two are grown ups—once married—and the past week has been filled with suffocating sexual tension.” At Barbara’s mortified look, Phoenix chuckles and goes back to sorting her stuff. “You don’t have to hide the fact y’all hooked up. I mean, we can all put it together since you carpooled.”

Halo agrees, “Yeah, C. Everyone knows—no need to be shy about it. Plus when was the last time you got laid?” Barbara refuses to answer the question, a light blush coating her cheeks. It was embarrassing for the woman to admit the previous night was the first in over two years. Even Rooster had commented how tight she was which made her more flustered. The truth was she tried to have casual hookups a year after the divorce, but the poor guys could not satisfy her. There was no one like Rooster and it was obvious he ruined her for any other man.

They all had poor stamina, couldn’t make her finish, or just overall were bad. It wasn’t like she had a lot of partners—quite frankly it was only three. And she wasn’t going to ask Rooster if he had been with anyone at that time. It wouldn’t be surprising and she had no right to judge. Humans have needs—sexual attraction is part of nature.

Once the three finished up they reported to the mess hall for breakfast. A glare was sent to Rooster when he sat his happy ass down beside Barbara, aware the others were staring at them with mixed expressions. Most of them were amused. “Seriously?” She hissed, stabbing the eggs with a fork.

“What?” He shrugged like he didn’t know what she was talking about. But she knew him better than that.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing, Bradshaw.” The fork waved in his face to emphasize her point. All he did was smirk in return, turning his head away as he brought his coffee to his lips. Phoenix was loving it much to Barbara’s annoyance. So was Payback who was seated next to Rooster.

Breakfast went by fast and soon they were ushered into a room to be debriefed on the day's plans. It would be at least another 24 hours before they were close to the desired location. The time went fast before they knew it. As the hours passed nerves surfaced from everyone on board the carrier. The Dagger Squad were often called away for private briefings and Barbara managed to run into her father at one point which led to the man finding out what happened between her and Rooster.

“I didn’t see your bike or car in the parking lot,” he casually said, noticing the way her body stiffened. “Did you catch a ride with someone?”

“Yeah,” she coughed, hand coming up to block it when really she was trying to hide the blush forming on her cheeks. Without looking at Mav, she admitted, “Bradley and I actually rode together.”

“Oh,” His voice went low, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. Though he was tempted to question the details, the awkward shuffle from his daughter plus the avoidance of looking him in the eye was enough to at least imply something happened. A red color appeared on his own cheeks and Maverick looked away to clear his throat. He decided not to say a word in the end and instead give a curt nod.

Talk about awkward.

Something else that could have had that same feeling came when Barbara was walking to her room late that night and was suddenly pulled from the side into a storage closet. “What the fuck—!” A hand clamped over her mouth as she was brought to a hard chest. The light was off with little light emitting from the window on the door, but the musky scent of familiar cologne had the pilot push away the hand and playfully smack his chest. “Jesus Christ, Bradshaw. Are you out of your mind?”

Rooster lifted her up, securing her legs around his waist with his hands resting on her ass to hold her up. “Sorry, baby.” The apology was flat because in all honesty he wasn’t sorry. Barely could she make out the smug expression on his face.

Barbara tightened her arms that hung around his neck, “What are we teenagers? You can get demoted if we’re caught.” A shudder coursed through her when Rooster started to leave a trail of kisses from her ear to her jaw. “Dammit, Bradshaw, now is not the time to be reckless like me,” she groaned, biting her lip to stop the smile peeking out.

“I missed you,” he whined against her skin, walking a bit so they were pressed against the wall and away from the door. Pleasure filled him when he felt Barbara run her fingers through his hair, aiming for the curls that rested on the nape of his neck.

“You’re a menace,” her lips brushed over his, feeling his smile against her own. “You’ve seen me all day—except for maybe three hours when you were called for a meeting.”

“Still, I missed being close to you,” he presses into her more, “Been waiting all day to get you alone.”

“Oh so you just so happened to know I would be coming down the hallway at that given moment and waited for your chance?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged like it was the most obvious answer. “Baby, now that I have you back in my arms I don’t ever wanna let you go. I’ll take whatever time I can get to be touching and kissing you even if it means sneaking like kids and fooling around in a closet.” With that he leaned in and sealed their lips together. After the sweet kiss that morning, Rooster was counting down the minutes until he could taste Barbara again.

It was like a spark had reignited between the two. While the stance of their relationship was sorta on the fence with no official title, there was no doubt in question they loved each other. Longing looks and light touches as they passed became a habit throughout the day. Unfortunately the addiction Rooster had for Barbara and vice versa was difficult in their situation. Neither had rooms to themselves where they could sneak off to and the carrier had their friends, Maverick, and the Admirals. If they were to get caught in a frisky position word would spread like wildfire.

“You better calm that boner I feel against me, Lieutenant. There’s no way I’m letting you fuck me against this wall when anyone could pass by at any given second.” His groan made her chuckle, pressing a kiss to his pouty lips. “I’m in enough hot water as it is. I’m not gonna let you be in the same boat when you’ve got something big in less than a day.”

“Can we at least make out for a bit?” The question was so expected of Rooster and the tone in which he said it had Barbara slapping a hand to her mouth to muffle her laughter. Rooster giggled with her, adjusting her in his arms when she slid a bit. One calm, Barbara put her hand to his cheek, “Sure, pretty boy. You’ve got fifteen minutes—better make it worthwhile.”

That was a day ago. Now Barbara was walking across the runway of the carrier with Maverick. Cyclone had called a meeting with everyone on board to go over the plan of action one last time just before she found him alone muttering the words, “Talk to me, Goose.”

The jets were lined up, pre-flight checks in order as the pilots arrived. Barbara and Mav walked together with his arm over her shoulder. Several glances were sent their way but Barbara kept her eyes forward as they approached his F-18. Squeezing his hand, Barbara said, “I’ll be right back,” and left for Phoenix and Bob. Jogging over just before they could climb in, Barbara pulled the dark-haired woman into a hug. “You better kick ass out there, Phee.” This mission was personal to Barbara on so many levels.

It has the lives of her father, lover, and friends on the line.

“When have I ever not, C?” She teased back, tightening the hug before releasing so Barbara could do the same to Bob.

“When you get back we’re going dancing like old times.” Back when she and Rooster were married, they had been stationed together with Nat and the two women made it a tradition to have a girls night whenever one returned from an assignment. When Pheonix agreed with a ‘hell yeah’, Barb patted Bob's arm, “Bob here can even join in.”

“Uhh-I-I uh don’t really dance.”

“We’ll teach you,” the wink she sent caused a blush to his cheeks. It reminded her of when they first met just a few short weeks ago. With one last good luck, Barbara departed and went to Fanboy and Payback. She made it quick with a hug and threatening to kick their ass if they didn’t come back in one piece. Spinning on her heel, she made her way back to Mav while looking around for Bradley. When she caught sight of him he wasn’t alone.

Hangman was with him.

It appeared that no words were exchanged with the two men just staring at each other. Then as Barbara got closer she faintly heard over the noise Jake shouting, “you give em’ hell!” Rooster looked stunned, not expecting the words from his rival. As Hangman passed him he remained still, head slightly turning but gaze on the ground. He hadn’t noticed Baraba approaching from the side, who gave a nod to Jake when they caught eyes, but soon lifted his head to find her staring back at him with a nervous expression.

The tension in his posture disappeared, legs moving at a fast rate to close the distance between them. Rooster didn’t care they were out in the open, in uniform, and should be climbing into his jet at that very second. No, he stormed right up to Barbara, free hand not holding his helmet cupping her jaw and bending down to bring her into a searing kiss. The gasp she emitted has his tongue sliding past her lips, deepening the kiss for all eyes to see.

Which all eyes did see. Maverick was trying not to intrude but there was a small smile on his lips. It brought him great joy the two were together again in each other’s arms despite the inner conflict at what they were about to face. On the opposite side the foxtrot teams were exchanging knowing looks, happy while also worried. Hell even Hangman was reacting the same, not ruining the moment with some snide comment.

“I love you,” Barbara stood on her tippy toes, thumb tracing over the scars on Roosters face as tears watered her eyes. “I love you so much, Bradley.”

“I love you too, baby,” he kissed all over her face, holding back his own emotion to not worry her further. God how much he missed hearing those words.

“You got this. As much as I believe in you, you have to believe in yourself more than anything. Trust your instincts. You better—,” she sniffed, pushing a hand against his chest where his heart lay, “—You better fucking come back to me. Or I swear to God, Bradley, I’ll never forgive you. I’ll kick your ass in the afterlife if I have to.” She feels him press his lips to her forehead, lingering there for a second while her eyes close.

“I have to come back, so I can take you to the chapel and wife you up again.”

All the air leaves Barbara, eyes snapping wide open to stare at him in disbelief, “W-what? Are you serious right now?” Did she really hear that right or was she daydreaming? It had to have been a joke.

But it wasn’t a joke.

His face was serious, the sweat bedding along his hairline slowly dripping down as he stared into her soul. “Marry me, Barbara Mitchell. Be my wife again, please. I know I fucked up once—my biggest regret that will haunt me forever—and I will spend the rest of my life making it up if you have me again.” His lips curl up a bit at her look of bewilderment, “Hell we can even get the Chaplin on board to officiate right now—.”

“O-oh my God, no—,” she stuttered out with a watery laugh, her heart literally pounding out of her chest. Leave it to Rooster to want to elope minutes before he’s about to embark on a life or death mission. “We are not shotgunning this again like last time.”

“So is that a yes then?” He smiles at her, eyes full of love and adoration which she mirrors.

Instead of answering yes or no, Barbara simply kisses him and says, “Come back to me and you’ll get your answer.” He kisses her back passionately, knowing damn well it was a yes. Her previous sentence had sealed the deal for him. But, because of the situation Barbara couldn’t bring herself to say the word. There was still that fear something could go wrong.

Together hand in hand they approach his plane but instead of Bradley climbing in they move toward Maverick. “Sir.” Maverick turns around to see the two, Rooster addressing him. Barbara squeezes his hand before letting go and stepping back to give the two space. “I…I just wanna say—,” the sound of the flight crew announcing orders interrupts the pilot. Several crew members run past them, the clock ticking down till go time.

“We’ll talk,” Mav tells him with a nod, “when we get back.” It was a promise. One that sent a wave of anxiety through Barbara as she took in Roosters distressed expression. There was something about the way Maverick said the words that, although assuring, felt worrisome.

A moment passes, then Bradley gives the Captain a nod before spinning around. Placing one last kiss to Barbara’s lips, the two holding each other’s gaze to convey the unspoken words they wished to say, Rooster moves to his jet while she watches on.

“B-Bradley!” Maverick suddenly shouts, causing Rooster to halt his movements. “You got this.” The simple phrase had Barbara’s tears resurface. It was all Rooster wanted to hear from Maverick. Yeah she told him the same thing just moments ago, but it was impactful to hear it from the person he’s trained his entire career to prove himself to.

Barbara could tell the words cut deeply into Rooster, the man releasing a shaky breath as he nodded. When he meets her eye Barbara mouths, ‘I love you,’ which he returns before saluting, shaking the hand of the crew member, and climbing into the F-18. It’s then that Barbara goes to Maverick, arms already open to embrace him. It was no doubt her eyes were rimmed with red after crying so much in the span of just twenty minutes. Her reputation of being an ice cold, nearly emotionless aviator was about to tarnish.

But who could really blame Barbara Mitchell? They’d probably be in the same shoes.

And for Pete Mitchell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d hug his daughter so much. Their strained relationship and her avoidance of his physical touch as a teen and young adult made him realize how precious moments like this were. How he missed out on so much by putting his career first.

He missed her first steps. Her first words. Her first birthday. The first day of school. Her first recital. The first time she broke a bone playing soccer. Her first heartbreak. Her high school prom.

Her college graduation.

Her commission.

Her wedding day.

Pete Maverick Mitchell hardly had regrets for he believed the path one takes was meant to be walked. But in that moment, if he could turn back time and choose a new one, without hesitation he’d choose the one that would have him be the father Barbara deserved, even if it meant giving up the piece of his life he was devoted to. To be a better man for her. For Barbara Caroline ‘Legacy’ Mitchell is who he should have been devoted to from the very beginning the second she was brought into the world. His legacy.

“I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, my darling girl.”

…………………………….

Tag List: @multiple-fandoms-girl, @maverick-wingman, @sgt-huntersupremacy, @the-winter-marvel33, @calicokel, @justanothermagicalsara, @lydia-demarek, @alanadetigy, @shrimping-for-all, @chaoticassidy, @nemtodd-barnes1923, @bradleysgirl, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @mak-32

[thatawkwardmoth]

Part 3 of The Last Of Us headcanons (normal au)

Ellie is not allowed over at the neighbors. She can't act nice and sweet like Sarah barely can. Joel learned this the hard way.

Both girls have a quota they want to fulfill of how many times they make Joel laugh or smile. Has to be at least five times.

Joel is that dad that buys shit in bulk if one of his girls even slightly mentioned that they like it. Ellie used to only drink Cherry Kool-aid Jammers, all summer, it was all he could get her to drink. He still has five boxes in the Garage. Sarah religiously only ate Cinnamon Bagels and he still buys them for breakfast even after five years.

Ellie and Sarah evenly split shotgun. They do not share with Tommy though.

When Ellie came out to Sarah and Joel, both of them were shocked by how hostile she sounded with tears in her eyes and shaking like a leaf.

Joel makes every Christmas the best. He's not big on spending a little at any time of the year but he's definitely saving up more through the holiday months.

Ellie's favorite holiday is Halloween and Sarah's is Christmas. This is their excuse to put Joel through the Nightmare Before Christmas twice in a year.

Ellie will sing the best version of Jack's lament and Sarah will hit every note in Sally's song perfectly.

Ellie likes old Westerns but her favorite genre is horror.

Sarah's favorite is romance or historical dramas.

Sarah was never an IPad kid, she was constantly outside with Joel and Tommy, raised in the Texas sun.

Ellie, on the other hand, grew up in a cramped Boston apartment and sat in front of a TV for hours on end to distract herself from the hunger pains and the loneliness creeping into her bones. Nothing changed when they moved either. Mom was still gone all the time, sick when she was home. All that changed was the small apartment was in Texas, closer to some hospital.

Ellie has to have some electronic in her hand at all times if the car ride goes past three hours. She can't nap every ride away.

Joel bought Ellie her first pride flag and when someone in the Neighborhood said something about it, he placed one right next to the American flag in his yard.

Ellie simps over every cheerleader and it's Sarah's greatest pleasure to take photo and video and blackmail her.

Sarah played soccer for a rec team up until her first year of High School. She got tired of everyone, except her family, making it all about her future and less about the fun she had playing.

She now only plays when it's family dinner and Kevin and Tommy are up against her and Joel. Maria is sitting off to the side with the baby and Ellie is being the worst Ref.

When Ellie gets sick, like really sick, she only wants to watch Strawberry Shortcake and she'll call out for her mom all night long. Sarah curls up with her and Joel lays a sleeping bag out in the hallway just in case one of them needs him.

Sarah was a wandering kid. Not enough to be leashed, just enough to give Joel eyes in the back of his head and heart attacks on the daily.

Ellie has the biggest issue with some of the guys Joel works with. When she's helping on site, they'll make little remarks about little girls and not being fit for the job. Joel just waits for Ellie to snap and then he'll handle the aftermath.

Sarah and Ellie are both Taylor Swift stans. Sarah is Lover-Speak Now-Debut, Ellie is Evermore-Reputation-1989.

Sarah owned a pair of glittery pink cowgirl boots when she was a toddler and Joel cringes at every photo of her with them. They were horrible to put on and they broke ten days after she got them but she loved them so much, Joel bought her another pair.

Ellie has a nerf gun she keeps next to her bed to shoot anyone who doesn't abide by the rule list in the kitchen. Number 4: Ellie's room is off limits unless invited in (barring the exceptions listed at the bottom)

Joel made the rule list purely for Tommy and Maria, they're nice and they're family but sometimes they treat Ellie like she's feral and Sarah like she's an infant, stepping over every boundary.

Ellie has stabbed Joel before. There was only one time they don't regret. Man never should've snuck up on her while hunting and she stands by that.

Ellie loves basketball more than anything. It's her last piece of Riley.

Joel suffers no embarrassment buying things like pads and tampons. Even if he has to buy two different types, he'll never complain.

Sarah is a big Harry Potter stan. Can't stand the author but loved the books and movies and plays to the death.

Ellie, on the other hand, pure Percy Jackson. Constantly taking tests on who her godly parent would be and what type of quest she'd get.

When Ellie told Joel she was fine with any pronouns, Joel straight up at the next dinner was like "Ellie wants you to pass the potatoes Tommy. Listen to him or they can stab you."

Right off the bat, no qualms against it. Made Ellie cry into Sarah's bedsheets that night.

Everyone always acts like Sarah and Ellie are polar opposites, that they couldn't be more different. Joel prides himself on being the one who knows that's false.

Joel has a trophy case the living room, full of Sarah's soccer trophies, Ellie's basketball ones, every certificate and award ever given to them on display.

Proud dad #1.

Sarah and Ellie know that mother's day is a sore subject for them both so they both tease Joel and get him "Best mom ever" shit and watches him cringe and pretend to hate them. But at night time, when they're all curled up on the couch, he hears the soft confession from both about how he's doing great. They don't need mom, he's got this covered.

Father's day is always a giant spectacle with them.

Joel doesn't shame any parents, he can't because he had Sarah young as hell. But when he walks into a doctor's office and sees parents there that don't know anything about their kids, it makes him sick.

He can tell the people at said doctors office everything about his girls medical background without even hesitating. He knows their birthdays and middle names and everything.

Ellie is the main one he takes to the doctor. She hates it though so he always make sure to pack a "Diaper Bag" for her. Blanket from her mom that she loves, headphones, giraffe plush, etc. Even if she thinks it's to childish, he can see the fear in her eyes when they enter. The smell brings her right back to where she lost her mom.

Sarah wants to be a nurse when she grows up. Tommy and Joel are supportive but wondering how bedside manner is going to work with that sassy little shit.

Both girls will take as many pot shots as they want at Joel's age.

Sarah and Ellie love leaving flowers in Joel's hair.

A lot happened to Ellie the first few years of her life and it still haunts her. Joel holds nothing against her and will accept the feral look in their eyes and the new bruises he gets when she gets a flashback. As long as she's still fighting.

Ellie's tiktok is full of random jokes and skits. Teaching ASL to people alongside Sam. Some of them are about what she went through and he gives no fucks about what anyone thinks. Joel said it was OK, and that's the only opinion that matters to her.

Sarah's tiktok is all dances and photo trends. Her and Ellie love pulling prank videos on Kevin and Joel and Tess.

Tess once had a pregnancy scare and Joel was excited to be a dad again. When it was revealed she wasn't pregnant, just stress making her miss her period, they both sat down and talked it out.

Tess told Ellie a few months after that, while hiking with her and Sarah, that had the baby been a boy, she would've fought Joel hard as shit to name it Texas. Ellie loved the name and the meaning behind it and is now rooting for another sibling even harder.

Sarah's favorite inside joke with Ellie is to call her by any name that can be shortened down to Ellie when she's being called by Joel or Sarah.

Example: Eleanor, Elodie, Eloise.

Sarah will dip anything into ranch. Anything. Ellie will dip anything into hot sauce or Buffalo sauce.

Both need those at every dinner. Joel just needs ketchup and mustard.

Joel was introduced to Hozier through Ellie and will listen to it constantly because it makes him think of his girls and everything they've been through.

Bill and Frank are really the only people they ever go on roadtrips to see.

Sarah loves makeup, she loves doing cool looks and drawing little stars and butterflies. She just enjoys playing around and creating cute looks.

Ellie likes a little makeup, she'll even let Sarah do it for her when they're bored on the weekends.

Ellie was a play structure kid. She'd climb any and all things on the playground, hang upside down from the monkey bars and force Joel to spin her on the merry-go-round till she was sick.

Sarah was a swings kid. She'd just chill there and sometimes go to the merry-go-round with Ellie.

Joel still carries around what is essentially a diaper bag for both of his girls. He's ready for anything.

One vegetable that will never enter the house is peas. Everyone hates them.

Ellie will eat raw carrots but no cooked ones. Joel is still confused by it.

[moonsugar-and-spice]

⃤ So, if I can be frank, Lu Dao, don't take too much offense to what I am about to say but you come off as a ladies man.

I have to know, is any one woman capable of your having your devotion or is the sea your only lover?

If you've met this woman already what makes her so special? And if you haven't, what does she have to have to make you turn your ship around?

Send a △ and ask my character(s) a really invasive question.

2/10. He is not easily offended, it’s a beautiful day in Harbor City, and this should be an easy enough question for him to answer.  You’ve caught him walking en route to his ship alongside his first mate, Rizo.

Your footsteps thunk out of sync along the docks, the scent of hot coal and fish guts ripe in the briny air. “A ladies’ man?” echoes Lu Da, as if the notion is preposterous and you’ve just nicked his ego with a blade. 

Rizo meets your eye, only shakes his head, as the three of you stop before a magnificent vessel, all strong lines and gleaming metal, boasting power and resilience, red-tinted windows studding the bridge like jewels.

Her captain grins, extending an arm toward the waiting ramp, the ship’s name glinting in the noonday sun. Revenant's Forge.

As you’re led up to the deck, starting to wonder whether he means to dodge the question, Lu Da counters, “I prefer to think of myself as more of a ladies’ ally…” 

The words hang as he exchanges cheeky greetings with the motley, formidable group that snaps to attention. Then, he turns back to face you, extending his arms slightly as he walks backward, palms open, lips slanting in a smile. Genial. Contagious.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he prompts on your behalf. “Well, it’s true I’m a lucky guy who’s had the pleasure of knowing some pretty remarkable women. Even learned a thing or two from most of ‘em. But, more importantly, I aim to be a man who appreciates and respects the women in my life.” 

Lu Da reaches the sun-warmed taffrail, leaning back against it. A salty breeze musses the fringe of his mohawk. “And y’know, I think that’s what a real ladies’ man is all about. It’s not about collecting conquests or playing some kind of smooth charmer—”

A muffled snort at your side. Rizo clears his throat, throwing on an innocent look.

“It’s not about a silver tongue or irresistible charisma—though those things have their place. It’s about valuing and supporting the women around you. And if all that makes me a ladies’ man?” Lu Da offers a shrug of one brawny shoulder. “Yeah, then I guess you’ll have to count me in.”

“That’s sweet and all, Cap’n,” Rizo cuts in, his amusement reflected amongst the crew. “And while true—you know the lot of us’ll vouch for that—I think our friend’s more referring to the way you busted outta your mama’s womb flirting.”

Raucous laughter ignites and Rizo turns to you, lips splitting in a lupine grin. “Legend has it he winked at the midwives, babbled one of his witty one-liners, and had the lot of ‘em swooning like a bunch of romance scroll heroines. He is a smooth charmer, but the sneaky kind—you don’t see it coming, ‘cause all you can see is the inkocalypse he’s got goin’ on, and then, bam.” The sharp clap of his hands rings in the air. “Slip on it like a papaya rind.”

There is a playful twist on Lu Da’s lips, a laugh huffed through his nose, but even you know well enough that there is no room for real indignation.

“Alright, so maybe I have a bit of a reputation,” he admits, then tosses you a nod. “But, look, if you’re gonna be frank, well then, I guess I’ll be shittily honest.”

The bustling harbor drones and clatters as Lu Da sighs, shifts, sunlight scattered by his rings as he anchors strong hands on either side of him along the rail. His attention drifts and narrows on the distant seam of sea and sky.

Whoops, the dial is ticking up now. 3/10… 4/10…

“Never really admitted this to anyone out loud, save for a few souls,” he begins haltingly. “I enjoy good company, that’s no secret. You could say I’m a people person, half of the time anyway, and the other half I just like fucking with ‘em. Flirting?” His gaze does not slip from where it is moored to the horizon. “Good seventy percent of the time for me it’s a game, another ten percent accounting for boredom. The fun of catching ‘em off guard with a smile, and sure, a smooth word, betting with myself on who’ll respond with disgust or suspicion or desire, which ones’ll turn tail and which’ll catch spark.”

A rueful smile flickers across his face as he drags his gaze back to yours, taps a ringed finger to his temple.

“‘Ah,’ you’re thinking, ‘there’s the shitty part.’ And yeah, probably.” A shadow of something crosses his face, etching a faint furrow between his brows. “But here’s the thing. As a mercenary pirate, my life isn’t exactly conducive to deep romantic connections. Always on the move, never knowing what might happen from one moment to the next, so fleeting encounters are the currency of my existence.

“Then we factor in that among the pool of people undeterred by…” a pause to gesture vaguely at the tattoos, the piercings, the strip of dark hair running down his head, a man who carved his name into the annals of ill-repute, “...there’s a half-dried puddle of the ones who see beyond it. Most’re just down for the thrill, the forbidden, the seductive danger or the usual fetishized attraction, you know. Not much worth taking seriously when you know most of them don’t see you or don’t care to.”

A shimmer of wings slices the air as a gull swoops, diving for a cart. The fisherman lunges but the bird is faster, its prize winking silver as it makes off.

“All that to say, when it is more, the rare times it has been—”

“Put it this way,” says Rizo, “when Lu Da stops playin’ games, you know shit’s got real.”

The acknowledgment tugs at the ink on his face as Lu Da shrugs his head toward his first mate: What he said. “Over the years, there’ve been a few. One or two that mighta stood the long haul even, had it not been for shitty luck or circumstances. Took to joking that the only lady I really need is Soraya, my crossbow, or my ship, and yeah, even the sea herself, and all of it was true. It was easier that way.”

The landscape shifts, his expression softening into something tender and earnest. “And then I met Rinna.”

“Man got obliterated by a love comet, and ever since he’s been orbiting in a cosmic haze of heart-shaped stardust. Just look at ‘im.” 

Lu Da only grins. It should look misplaced, this depth of warmth and affection radiating from a man of such an aspect and infamy. “She’s pretty damn awesome. Strong. Whip-smart. Head-turningly beautiful. But I’ve been around, and that stuff may be great, but it plays second erhu to what really matters.”

There is the clank of metal and low chatter, a sighing groan as the vessel rocks. Most of the crew has dispersed to their various tasks. Only Rizo stays behind, sinewy arms folded across his chest. 

“Rinna… she’s the kind of person who makes you feel alive, makes you believe in yourself, not just who you are but your potential, that your life might actually be worth a…” The words tangle in his chest. Lu Da starts again, his voice huskier, infused with the salt and grit of a life at sea. “Well, she’s got this… supernatural knack for seeing people. I’m talking seeing past all the surface-level and even mid-level shit, straight through to the core of who you are, for better or worse. 

“The first time she called me a good man, I shot it down. Forcing a puzzle piece where it didn’t fit. Done too many bad things, I’d told her. It was true. But she wasn’t convinced. Doesn’t like to define a person by their past, she says. ‘Uh, okay…’” he drawls, a mirror of hesitancy, the fragile dance between hope and trepidation. “I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because it will, of course, it always does. And I’m waiting, and waiting. And slowly, I stop, and I realize she’s for real.

“And it’s not just about the faults and imperfections, how she embraces all of you, no. Somehow, this woman is armed with the power to zero in on the absolute best parts of you. She can see qualities you might not even be aware of yourself, and then she holds them up like precious gems for you to marvel at.” Lu Da swallows thickly, composes himself with the huff of a laugh. His hand slides from the sun-drenched rail to run through his hair. “It’s a bit uncanny at times, actually. But Rinna changed the game. She’s a beacon of light. In this whirlwind life, where the only constants are chaos and change, she’s my north star.”

[le-amewzing]

through and through

Parknight and danger just mix so deliciously in a heart-pounding way and I'm. 83c *Note: This is a combined request by Pinkyeti38 and by Kate on FFN, asking for a Parknight where Parker gets shot and Knight's there to save him, with some Parker whump.

Fic: "through and through" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: Alden Parker/Jess Knight, Nick Torres, & Timothy McGee, with some OC villains

Rating: T

Words: ~4,830

Additional info: romance, action/adventure, hurt/comfort, 3rd person POV

Summary: Their team is under fire, gets split, and is in dire straits. But, Parker thinks, there's no one else he'd rather face mortal danger with than [his very own, personal] Knight.

      The MCRT rolled up to the old Mullholland warehouse, an abandoned factory building in Virginia that had seen better days and hadn't been in use for several decades, going by the various shades of green and gray grime on the outside. Hell, even the old Mullholland logo was present but dilapidated, with the script M missing from the sign, along with all the vowels. And yet somehow all the broken windows were boarded up with fresh plywood.

      Parker huffed in the passenger seat while he scanned the imposing scenery outside the window. "Yeah, I think we're in the right place."

      He didn't need to turn or glance at Knight in the driver's seat to know which expression she wore, hearing his tone: brow pinched together accompanied by the tiniest of smiles. It was one of reluctant encouragement, since they were about to head into the lion's den.

      Parker would take any encouragement he could get right now, though, as he caught Torres' eye in the SUV with McGee and signaled for the other pair of agents where to park. Once the SUV and the sedan were hidden in the shadow of two abutting storage pods parked on the dirt lot in front of the Mullholland warehouse, they all clambered out and made for their trunks, exchanging blazers for protective vests.

      "McGee, did you finish downloading schematics for this place?" Knight asked as she pulled her ponytail free after slipping her NCIS jacket on over her vest.

      "Yeah, luckily," he answered, frowning at his tablet. McGee held it out for the other three to view. "I lost the signal a few miles back, but Kasie knew where we were heading and we'd already put in a call for backup. Kasie had said they might be twenty minutes out or more, though."

      "Better than nothing," Torres grumbled. He pulled a face when Parker and Knight settled him with matching looks of reproach. He pointed to the blueprints. "Please tell me I'm not seeing what I'm seeing, Tim."

      McGee gave them all a tight smile. "Afraid so. The Mullholland Company was a machinery factory with three floors. On the up side, no basement. Down side: Yeah…three floors to cover."

      Parker peeked around the nearest storage pod to double-check his count from when they'd first arrived. "And with four vehicles… Even a conservative estimate of two men per car, that's still double our number, McGee."

      "But Durmaz could be here himself," Knight reminded them.

      And there was the kicker. They couldn't delay when the big fish himself, Alim Durmaz, might be slumming it inside. "I miss the days when villains were more predictable," Parker groused as he checked his magazine before holstering his weapon.

      "Times definitely have changed," McGee said. "Not that Agah Bayar was a good guy, but…it still bothers me that someone like Bayar, at the top of the food chain in the arms trade, is off the table. Gibbs never trusted him, but Bayar was useful and precisely the sort of contact we needed for our case. But to dig up Durmaz instead…"

      Torres snorted. "Are you trying to say Bayar had a businessman's 'finesse,' McGee?"

      The pale fellow shrugged. "That's one way to put it."

      "At the end of the day, an arms dealer is an arms dealer, McGee," Parker pointed out. "Bayar, Durmaz—they'll be brought in at some point, dead or alive, by us or by another agency."

      McGee still frowned, but at least he nodded, seemingly accepting Bayar's fate.

      After a quick overview of the layout, Parker and the others armed themselves before rounding the storage pods to head in. He had half a mind to delay their approach and ask Knight and Torres to disable the vehicles of Durmaz's men—nothing serious, just puncturing a few tires to slow them down—but then Parker changed his mind, much as he hated to do so. While they were suited up and prepped for the worst, technically they'd come here after sending Durmaz several messages, reaching out, looking for information. It wouldn't do them any favors to get off on the wrong foot before even a simple "hello" had been exchanged, especially with someone rumored to be as aggressive as the young Durmaz.

      Torres led their group inside, with McGee and Parker not far behind and Knight pulling up the rear. There were no surprises for them in the former lobby entrance, save for how wide open the space was, as though someone had torn down a wall or two. That seemed easy to confirm, even, given the debris left scattered across the floor.

      "Hey, watch your step," Parker warned. "Last thing we need is anyone stepping on a rusty nail and catching tetanus." He kicked aside a board with the aforementioned protrusions for good measure.

      "Where to next?" Knight asked. "Left, right, or through the big doors?"

      "Big doors lead to the factory floor," McGee said while he squinted at a flickering light overhead. "Right takes us to the employee common areas, while left diverges. Stairs and some of the management offices."

      "Right then," Parker decided. "Even if Durmaz isn't with them, I wouldn't be surprised if his men set up shop there."

      The other three nodded with his assessment, and once more Torres took point. The closer the team got to the rightmost door, the louder sounds on the other side grew. So, Parker had been correct.

      That didn't mean they'd barge right in, though. Parker and McGee got behind the left side of the door, Torres and Knight to the right. McGee cracked it open on Parker's count, and Torres leaned forward ever so slightly—

      The door creaked.

      The sounds inside ceased.

      Parker held his breath. He swore he heard McGee, Torres, and Knight hold theirs, too.

      And then, the next second, they heard the telltale click of someone shifting a gun, aiming undoubtedly at them.

      Parker didn't waste his breath telling his team to run. They each turned on a dime and sprinted from the door as it fell to pieces, riddled with bullets. Parker ducked and felt a familiar hand on his back, keeping him bowed over while they ran.

      But their team's footsteps now had an echo in this abandoned lobby. It was hard to count how many people chased them, with the bullets spraying all around them, but Parker knew he heard extra footfall that wasn't his, wasn't Knight's, wasn't McGee's or Torres'.

      "Tim!" Torres shouted.

      Parker glanced over his shoulder at the same time Knight looked behind her. But there was no body on the floor, just the swinging doors that led to the factory floor.

      And, of course, two men each armed with an assault rifle still chasing the three of them.

      So now Torres ushered Parker along with Knight. They finished closing the distance, bursting through the left-side lobby door, with maybe three seconds to decide where they headed next.

      Their assailants kept shooting, however, even through the door, once more sending bullets and debris flying for Parker, Knight, and Torres to avoid.

      …or, at least, try to avoid, because either these guys had terrible aim or were enjoying some new toys without care or want for bullets. But even a broken clock was wrong twice a day.

      And even someone with shit aim was bound to hit something at some point.

      Parker hissed as a round pierced him by his right shoulder, just beyond where his vest could've protected him. The blow had the weight of a heavy punch behind it on top of the bullet slicing in, knocking most of the breath from him. Parker fell to his knees, trying to catch himself on either of his fellow agents, in the end feebly grasping Knight's forearm.

      Her tight grip on him signaled she knew exactly what had happened, even before she saw the dark, wet blossom on his jacket. "Parker!!"

      Her yelp made Torres do a double-take. He provided them cover as best he could while Knight dragged Parker to safety around the corner, into one of the nearby offices. "How bad?" he asked, reloading.

      "I—I don't know." Knight kept one hand pressed against the wound, making Parker grimace in pain, and she frowned as her eyes roved over his face. "I know, I'm sorry, I know it hurts, but—"

      More gunfire roared in the hallway, getting closer.

      Knight paled, her brow furrowed as she locked eyes with Parker. He patted the hand that kept pressure on his wound.

      "We're sitting ducks in here," Torres growled under his breath. He scanned the small office…and some of his anger dissolved. "Wait. Knight, look."

      The next thing Parker knew, Knight had his bad arm over her shoulders, her hand still pressed against his chest, and they began a slow shuffle on their knees, below the eye line of their assailants, to an old concealed door in the wall, revealing that these once had all been connected offices. Once they were two offices away, Knight propped Parker up in a mildewed chair to get a better look at him. "Nick, we need—"

      "No, you're gonna have to do this part on your own," Torres interrupted.

      Knight whirled around, and Parker caught sight of Torres' resigned expression past her torso. "Nick, you're joking right now."

      "I'm not." He jerked his chin at Parker. "Any other time, sticking together is the way to go. But they splintered Tim off from us so fast, Jess. And Parker…"

      Parker nodded, partly because he understood Torres' point of view and partly because he agreed it was their best option at the moment. There was also still a tiny part of him, of his old self, that wanted to call himself dead weight and insist Knight and Torres move on without him…but no. He'd been with this team well long enough and they'd been through far too many scrapes and close calls to try pulling that same old crap with them.

      "We draw too much attention together," Torres stated. Then he mustered a grin for the other two. "Besides, it'll help me worry less, knowing Parker's in safe hands."

      Parker quirked an eyebrow at that and Knight spluttered, but Torres was done talking. He checked that the coast was clear and darted out the way they'd come. A minute later, from what sounded like the direction of the stairwell, gunfire rang out, but so did Torres' taunts, and Parker and Knight heard what seemed to be stomps up the stairs…perhaps two armed men hustling after one spry and plucky Special Agent.

      "Remind me to smack him later," Knight growled, turning back to Parker and wheeling him in the chair through another couple doors, through a few more offices, until the background noise was too dimmed to be discernible.

      Parker snickered—and winced, since the movement jostled his shoulder too much. "Ah, you don't really want to smack Torres. It's…" He took a breath, closed his eyes in an attempt not to focus on his injury, and tilted his head up at her. "It's frustrating when someone's right and you know you can't argue with them."

      Knight twisted her lips around but nodded. Then she bent over a little, her eyes lingering on his face before returning to where she pressed just beside his shoulder. "My annoyance with him and my desire to round up Durmaz's men aside—we've got to stop your bleeding first."

      "Yeah, I won't argue with that."

      He smirked a little at the dry look Knight shot him, but she otherwise ignored the prod. Instead, Knight set her gun down within reach on the desk to her right. "All right. I, uh. I'm going to take my hand away, because I need to assess how bad it is… Are you ready?"

      Parker swallowed and gritted his teeth. "Just go for it, Jess."

      He closed his eyes, as if that'd help any, and the last thing he saw were those big, brown eyes of her go all round right before she lifted her hand away.

      The pressure from having her hand there hadn't been pleasant. But taking it away? Sudden pain flowed freely through him, racing like fire, and only the reminder that there were people here hunting them had Parker biting back a scream. He clenched his jaw, didn't care whether he broke any teeth—he needed to stay quiet. But fuck if it weren't near impossible to do just that.

      "I know!" Knight whimpered in undertones. With his eyes squeezed shut, he could only picture the expression she made right now, accompanying that wet voice, as if she'd been shot herself. "It hurts, I get that. But, Alden, I need to see— C'mon, lean forward, just a bit— Your jacket's in the way—"

      He curled around her arm partly, letting Knight shimmy his NCIS windbreaker off to assess the damage. The nerve endings around the bullet hole hurt so bad, Parker felt bile rising in the back of his throat. But he focused on breathing, on keeping quiet, on Knight's fingers along his back, on her voice.

      "Okay… Okay, I think this is good," she said. Her voice sounded so close, inches from his ear. She prodded the wound's exit on his back, quick to apologize when Parker hissed again. "I'm sorry! It's just— Look, I think it was a clean shot. There's nothing lodged in you, Alden. This is good."

      Parker swallowed a little bit of saliva in his dry mouth while she leaned him back against the chair. He sighed. "…it could be worse," he conceded. Then he noticed how red and damp Knight's eyes were. "What?"

      She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, which was clean compared to the fresh red on her fingers. "There's—just so much blood. Your jacket's a mess."

      He glanced down at the white shirt he'd worn to the office today. Even accounting for Knight's handprints, the bloodstains had dyed the thing well. "My jacket's my least concern right now." He tried shifting in the chair, but once more he winced. Slight movements were not helping his right arm, through which pain radiated.

      Knight shed her windbreaker. "We can make use of it, though," she said. She wound her windbreaker up, twisting the thin material and knotting it at the sleeves' cuffs. Knight slipped the makeshift sling over Parker's head and gently got his injured arm into place. Then she balled up his own jacket. It had a hole in the front and was in tatters on the back, but, balled up and tucked into his sling high up, it could apply pressure and keep Knight's hands free for her weapon. "There. That should help."

      Parker got to his feet with Knight giving him a hand up. "You're right, it—" But he stopped and gave Knight a partial twirl. His heart sank. "Jess, you're bloody."

      "What?" Knight finally noticed the red smeared along her right arm. "That's probably just yours…yOWCH! DAMMIT, Alden, you didn't need to press a finger to it to prove your point."

      She scowled at Parker's raised eyebrows. But he pulled away a bloodied fingertip from her right shoulder. "It's more than a graze. We need to tie it off."

      "Well, we're not exactly in their infirmary—"

      Parker didn't need the obvious stated. While he couldn't reach the knot behind his neck, he started to slip his bad arm free from the sling she'd placed on him.

      But Knight grabbed his left hand, stopping him. "Hey! Okay, okay… I hear you…" She moved about the office, checking the drawers and the lone file cabinet for anything useful, to no avail. "…well, maybe it's time to get moving. We might come across something in a different room."

      Parker frowned, but he conceded for now.

      The maze of offices turned out to be a fruitless endeavor. Each room was as empty as the last, with the exception of a broken chair or a desk missing drawers here and there. Eventually they left behind the management offices and found what Parker presumed were maybe research and development. These offices had supplies, but nothing that would help them right now. With Mullholland having made machinery and only machinery, he and Knight were surrounded by abandoned mechanical tools. There was nothing but metal and grease and oil cloths, at best—nothing they could use for a fresh wound.

      And fresh it was. Knight had panicked over Parker's blood, but he kept a close eye on her right arm as they moved throughout this part of the factory. His current worry had been replaced with the sight of the crimson stream that kept trickling down her arm, not stopping, not crusting. "Jess," he said, pausing their crawl by stepping in front of her.

      "We haven't found anything to use," she said.

      But Parker shook his head. "If you're not going to undo part of the sling, then tear my sleeve to use." He held out his left arm. The long sleeve of his formerly pristine Oxford stood in stark contrast with the short-sleeve tee she'd worn today.

      Knight frowned.

      "It's going to be the cleanest thing we find in here."

      She gave a little huff and scrunched her nose up at him. But then she was leaning down to reach into her boot. Knight straightened up with a small knife in hand. "This way at least I don't have to tear it."

      He snickered, which didn't hurt as much this time now that his arm was more secure. "You know, this is not the way I prefer you wear my shirts," he quipped.

      Knight laughed but glared at him all at once. "Do not make me laugh while I've got a knife in my hand…!" she scolded. She punctuated that with a little slap to his good shoulder as further reprimand.

      Parker grinned, in spite of their dangerous reality, and he assisted Knight in wrapping the crude bandage around her gash and knotting it, since it was difficult to do it on her own. But finally the stream of red had stopped, and he and Knight could catch their breaths. He ran his good hand through her hair.

      She rested her cheek in his palm.

      "Never a dull moment with this team. Hell, with this agency," he remarked.

      Knight nodded. "But at least it's not on a boat, right?" Her smirk was small…but it was fragile, too. The jest was halfhearted, at best.

      So Parker kissed her—brief but strong, trying to convince them both that they would get out of this situation. Alive.

      They pulled apart and resumed their scouring of the main floor. It was a nerve-racking process, since McGee's tablet signal hadn't been the only thing dropped once they'd arrived; despite hearing no static, Parker and Knight knew their comms were down. On top of that, though Knight was trained to use weapons with either hand, Parker would be shooting with his non-dominant hand when they next faced an opponent.

      The odds really were not swinging in their favor today.

      On this side of the factory, the main floor came to an abrupt end, culminating in a narrow staircase which Knight insisted Parker take first. They emerged on a short landing that opened up to three large overseers' offices set slightly above, beyond a wide, squat, four-step staircase.

      But Parker and Knight didn't have a chance to go investigate those rooms, because two heads with guns cocked emerged from the nearest office.

      Knight knocked Parker aside, taking one gunman out and nailing the other after the second got off one round and missed. She heaved a sigh of relief, which Parker echoed when she drew him back to her. "I think I've had my fill of excitement for—"

      But their reprieve lasted but a second before Parker saw movement out of the corner of his eye and returned the favor. He shoved his bad shoulder into her bad arm, but Parker blinked the stars from his eyes and sought the third gunman out, taking aim and pulling the trigger.

      The bullet hit its intended target, the previously hidden suspect, but this time groans followed the shot.

      Parker huffed, struggling to catch his breath as he and Knight leaned on each other, half propping the other up. Damn pain was still capable of winding him…

      "Stars in my eyes, Alden—let's try not to do that again," Knight said.

      "Ah, yeah… Sorry about that, Jess." He straightened up a moment after she did, though. Once certain they had their bearings, they shuffled over to the bleeding gunman hiding around the corner near the stairwell that had brought Parker and Knight up here.

      Knight squatted and propped the guy up. "You're gonna wanna start talking, buddy."

      He scowled at them and then laughed, never taking his hand away from where blood spilled in thick, little rivers from between his fingers where he covered a spot on the left side of his torso. "Nothing left to lose," he said, though his voice was raspy, and he was close to gasping.

      Parker frowned at his response. "Why's that? You guys abandoning ship?" Ice ran down his spine as a new possibility occurred to him. "Hey. Is this place rigged to blow?"

      The gunman rolled his blue eyes. "You know nothing," he spat, each word coming out in short spurts.

      "Durmaz," Knight said. "Is he here? Was he ever here today?"

      The guy shook his head. "Durmaz left yesterday. He doesn't take meetings at the crash pad."

      Knight looked up and locked eyes with Parker. "Crash pad?"

      Parker shook his head. "Nothing came up in what McGee or Kasie dug up on him."

      Knight jostled the guy awake. "Hey. Hey. What's the crash pad?"

      "Here," he answered. He looked at her with half-lidded eyes. "Only funny business here…no serious business…just…" He took a sighing breath. "Test runs," he finished.

      Parker gripped the handle of his SIG tighter. "Great. We've walked into their firing range," he mumbled.

      He felt Knight tense beside his leg. But she shoved the gunman, harder this time. "All right, so this is your playground. You've got the upper hand," Knight told their suspect.

      He grinned. "We do…"

      "Yes, you all do. So it won't hurt to tell us how many more of you there are."

      The gunman closed his eyes again. For a brief moment, Parker worried that he'd lost enough blood, that that sickly pallor wasn't for show and they were talking to a corpse now. But then his eyes snapped open. He stared up at Parker as if facing Death—then his eyes refocused when Knight moved into his line of sight. He licked his lips and stared at the ground. "…your friends are gone. There are another three of us. You won't make it out of here."

      It wasn't a threat. There was no heat in the guy's voice, nor any hint of nastiness. Perhaps a trace of pity.

      "…thank you," Knight said, standing up and backing away with Parker.

      The gunman said nothing. Even if he had anything else to offer, he no longer could.

      "While I doubt they got McGee and Torres, I believe him about his own friends," Parker said. They retreated towards the short landing and made their way across after they caught sight of something they'd missed before: a small platform looking out over the factory floor.

      "Ditto," Knight agreed. They descended from near the overseers' offices onto the outlook platform, which had been blocked in by glass windows back in the day. But the glass was long gone, leaving them with a pair of thick beams to hide behind.

      They were right to doubt the dying gunman. From up on the platform, Parker and Knight had a wide view of the empty factory floor and spotted McGee and Torres entering the floor from opposite corners. McGee was a little bloody and Torres was limping, but they each had their guns tracked on an assailant who knelt in the middle of the factory floor with his hands behind his head, offering surrender.

      Parker and Knight exchanged a skeptical glance.

      Knight leaned slightly over the ledge—and then she grabbed a fistful of Parker's shirt and pointed.

      No wonder one gunman was a sitting duck…or acting like it. The remaining two suspects were busy sneaking up behind McGee and Torres.

      Things were moving slowly below them, but Parker and Knight wouldn't have much time to intervene. He pulled her back towards the overseers' offices so they could plan and not risk being heard. "Jess—"

      Her eyes were wide. "No, I know. We can't call out to them. Things would go to hell in an instant."

      He nodded. But, worse than that, Parker made a decision that sat like soured milk in his stomach: "We have to split up—you take the right, I'll take the left."

      Knight's fear was clear as day on her stony face, along with a hint, maybe, of anger in that vein pulsing along her jaw, anger that she had to execute her least favorite tactic for the second time today.

      But Parker respected and admired Knight for not delaying.

      She didn't kiss him. She didn't reach out for him.

      Knight trusted him to know what he was doing, to lead them.

      Parker returned to the outlook platform while Knight ran the rest of the length in front of the overseers' offices. There was a small nook where there had to be another staircase, mirroring the one Parker and Knight had climbed before, but there was also an opening, and Parker could spy Knight aiming her gun from his position.

      The only problem now was that they hadn't determined a signal…no, that and Parker wasn't certain Knight could see him.

      Parker rested his gun on the ledge, primed at Torres' would-be attacker across the way.

      Off to Parker's right, he heard Knight scuff her boot, and a pebble tumbled down the nearest steps.

      Ah.

      So they did have a signal, after all.

      "NCIS!" Parker and Knight bellowed from above.

      Down on the factory floor, the sudden noise caught Durmaz's men completely off-guard. Knight's intended target froze, even. Parker's turned his attention from Torres up to the outlook platform to shoot, but Knight and McGee were quicker. McGee noticed the man behind Torres and popped off two rounds while Knight sent two into the center mass of the one behind McGee, leaving the man pretending to be bait to Torres, who tackled and cuffed him before he could reach the assault rifle lying within reach on the floor nearby.

      Knight's target lay motionless on the floor, but McGee's stirred, so McGee jogged towards him and propped the gunman up, cuffing his hands in front and applying pressure to where McGee's bullets had glanced off his collarbone. "Thanks for the perfect timing," he called up to Parker and Knight.

      "I did say we draw too much attention together," Torres teased, going so far as to cluck his tongue at them. Then he shrugged. "But thanks for keeping my beautiful face intact."

      Knight groaned, but Parker snorted. "Eh, just doing the job." That had McGee beaming up at him, and Torres snickered and shook his head.

      Parker backed away from the outlook platform, the adrenaline wearing off now that the factory was welcomingly quiet…for a heartbeat. The next thing he knew, Knight came running to meet him back out in front of the steps by the overseers' offices. And she didn't slow down one bit, crushing him in a hug when she all but crashed into him. "OW, ow, ow, ow, Jess, ow—"

      "OH, God, I'm so sorry, I just—"

      He winced but tried to muster a smile for her, especially when she helped him holster his gun.

      Then Knight cupped Parker's face in her hands, her brow furrowed even as she ran her thumbs along the whiskers below his cheekbones. "I hate those five words, you know."

      Parker frowned in confusion.

      "'We have to split up.'"

      "…ah." There it was, the sour milk, just for being reminded of his decision.

      Knight rested her forehead against his. "I know the context, and it was a good call, but—" She paused to gather her thoughts, and she managed to smile when she met his eyes. "—it was hard to follow, Alden. Fucking difficult. Just so you know, it'll be extremely hard to get rid of me."

      Parker chuckled, gently, and returned her smile as he wrapped his good arm around her waist. "No one's looking to get rid of you," he assured her.

      At that, Knight relaxed against him. This time, when they kissed, it wasn't so brief, but it still conveyed as much as the one earlier had…

      They had gotten out of this, together, alive. And Parker was glad to have someone like Knight by his side, looking to be here, through thick and thin.

8DDD SO! First off, hello, fellow Parknight fans~ I took a brief break (scheduled but not announced) and I'm v happy to deliver this first new Parknight after said break! :D This is actually the last of my pre-s19-finale ideas, *LOL*; I've had this thing outlined since May 7th (I was so busy with Parknight feels back in April and May, like whoa), and I'm ECSTATIC I finally found the time to fulfill this awesome request, bc the plot bunnies rly multiplied here. For one, the casual flirting btwn Parknight? Nonstop. But for two? My OC baddie, Alim Durmaz, who didn't even make a physical appearance, *lol*—I sincerely wanna write him againnnnn. Like. I have some fleshed out notes for him, folks. He needs to appear…! :3c Now, for my fellow OG NCIS fans, I will say I'm not big on the idea of Agah Bayar being dead…but I never actually said he's dead, so. ;) (Ngl, I always found Bayar to be super interesting, yo…and it's also been a while since I last watched s12, so here I am, debating with my parents as to whether he was killed off then??? Bc idr but if so, then this fic is slightly AU and rightly so, dammit. XD) ANYWHO. Lessee… Oh, this was mostly Parker whump but also some slight Knight whump for me, *lol*—I like seeing them take care of each other…! And I guess I gotta write the Knight whump myself. ;P (I just like the idea of him fussing over her and her being exceptionally stubborn. XD) Also, random, but it feels ironic in some ways and yet ultimately appropriate, that this is the first thing I write after "Zeptosecond." XDD (But also after **and this is a spoiler-free zone** the s20 opener that kinda left me wanting. ;P) Final thoughts: The title is a reference both to Parker's thoughts at the end and to his injury (it was a through-and-through gunshot wound). :3c The song "Lullaby of Birdland" gave me Parknight feels when I outlined this, initially (it feels like a good Parknight theme -w-). Btw, the main joke for me while writing this was every time Knight physically had to move Parker or smthg close—all I could think was, "Manhandling: when you gotta handle your man." X'DDD Also, this was done for the 5, 10, 20, 50, 70, 100 Fandoms Challenge as well as the If You Dare Challenge (for prompt #818: reaper) in the HPFC forum on FFN. AHHHH, this was a lot of fun to write…! I hope you two enjoyed this, Pinkyeti38 and Kate…! ;w; And tysm for requesting. For everyone else: Don't forget you, too, can request fic or art or just come gush about Parknight or NCIS with me, and do check out the parknights tumblr when you need some PK sweetness for your soul~

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

[gayhawkelatehomicide]

Meet Miriani Lavellan, my first ever inquisition character (the replay version, because the real first one was on PS4 in 2014) and my first solasmancer. I romanced the egg on my totally blind first playthrough and was appropriately devastated. Here's a bit about her interacting with a normal person in Skyhold, which is the closest to a finished piece about her I have so far. The current title is "A Song in the Stillness" from Trials 1:3

"I have heard the sound

A song in the stillness,

The echo of Your voice,

Calling creation to wake from its slumber."

     The Inquisitor comes down to the holding cells under Skyhold sometimes. She always comes alone, without her intimidating retinue of friends, and without the fancy regalia that she's always in at formal events. Like that, she seems less like The Inquisitor, Herald of Andraste, leader of the armies of the faithful and chosen of the Maker, and more like a real person. She usually brings a snack to split with the guard on duty. More often than not, in the hours between dawn drills and the noon meal, that's Amara Voll. 

 ��   A soldier from the area south of Tantervale, Amara joined the Tantervale guard to send money home and help her family's struggling farm break even. She'd worked every odd job the guard had to offer before settling in as an apprentice jailor. When the sky tore open and demons started falling out, she'd been sitting in a stockade watching two drunks sleep off the effects of their most recent stupidity and listening to an angry Dwarven merchant shout profanities from down the hall. Inquisition recruiters came through a few weeks later, offering better pay and a chance to do something about the state of the world. Letting an opportunity like that pass by would've been stupid. She'd survived Haven by the Maker's grace and her own bloody stubbornness, and found herself in Skyhold. The head jailor appointment came because no one else with any experience managed to make it all the way to their new fortress, and the Commander was making do with what he had. Amara figured it would be a short-term assignment, but no more-qualified replacement has materialized. So she spends most of her days down in the cells, reading books or practicing sword drills to pass the time.

     A lot of the luster of joining the Inquisition has worn off, and Amara's beginning to consider going home. It looks like they've got the ancient darkspawn magister on his back foot; she can go back to her parents without feeling like she's leaving something unfinished. Then the Inquisitor starts passing time in the prison. Not with her, of course. Amara isn't vain enough to think the Herald of Andraste has any interest in her, but there she is. At least three times a week. Offering to share an apple, or some cheese, or a blueberry tart. 

     Inquisitor Lavellan is polite, if distant, and mostly seems grateful to be out of everyone's line of sight. No one comes down here after her, though Amara doesn't know if that's because they have instructions not to or because they don't know where she is. Either way, there are no advisors or messengers or people with problems chasing the Inquisitor up and down the many, many stairs to the holding cells. Amara gets the impression that it's a rare respite in the Inquisitor's long days of deciding the fate of Thedas. 

     Enemies of the Inquisition are in relatively short supply, and they never stay for long. Lady Lavellan is a recruiting judge, when she can be. She's merciful. Some of the nobles don't like that—Amara overhears a couple of fancy-dressed courtiers discussing it in the garden once, where she's spending a few of her off duty hours. One of them says Mistress Poulin should've been dealt with more harshly. Amara just shakes her head at that. She doesn't hear all of the gossip around Skyhold, but even she knows that the poor woman was just trying to save her home. Nobody should go to prison or worse for that. Besides, Mistress Poulin spent most of the week she was in the cells reciting the Chant from memory, praying for forgiveness, and talking to Mother Giselle, so she can't be that bad. 

     Amara is a bit puzzled by how gentle the Inquisitor is with Servis, the Venatori commander of the enemy forces in the Western Approach, but it's beyond her pay grade. She's just glad there had been a templar on guard with her while he was under her watch. It would've been a bad look for such a high profile prisoner to get away, even though all he'd done the one (brief) time he did get out was steal Amara's coin purse. The nobles complain that he should've been locked up or executed, but Inquisitor Lavellan gives him a position as an informant and smuggler. One of the Nightingale's spies, who Amara sometimes passes time with in between assignments, tells her that Servis is being watched closer than a Merchants' Guild treasure vault, and that's good enough for her. The Inquisitor doesn't waste a potential agent, her reputation for mercy is proven to be well-earned, and the holding cells are empty again. 

     The general lack of occupants in the prison and the fact that the Inquisitor doesn't come with a trail of supplicants mean that she and Amara are usually alone when she comes to visit. The first several times, it doesn't result in conversation. The Inquisitor comes through, offers Amara a snack, and goes to sit in the crumbling back end of the prison, dangling her legs over the side and watching the waterfall rush past. The cliff edge makes Amara dizzy, and seeing the last great hope for peace in Thedas sit so close to it makes her quite nervous, so she stays at her post and doesn't watch. She should've guessed that the Inquisitor wouldn't be content with silent company forever, though. 

     "I realize I never asked your name, Sergeant." The Inquisitor is in the process of tearing a chunk of bread in half to split it with Amara when she makes this observation. 

     "Amara Voll, your worship." Amara stands a little straighter.

     Inquisitor Lavellan hums acknowledgement, wrapping the clean dishcloth she brought around her half of the loaf and handing the other half over. "Where are you from, Sergeant Voll?" 

     "Tantervale, worship. Well, near Tantervale. South, a bit." Amara takes her bread, but doesn't start to eat it yet. She's talking to the Inquisitor. She's plenty likely to make a fool of herself without adding the possibility of talking with her mouth full, thank you very much.

     "Lovely country up that way," the Inquisitor smiles, a certain unexpected wistfulness in her expression. "It's beautiful in the fall, particularly the wheat and barley fields when they're ready for harvest. I miss living where it's warm even in the later months, don't you?"

     Slightly taken aback, Amara speaks without thinking. "I didn't know you'd been there, your worship."

     The Inquisitor scrunches up her face and for a moment reminds Amara painfully of her youngest sister when presented with a vegetable. She realizes, looking at her, that the Inquisitor can't be more than twenty years old. "Please, don't call me that. I can take it once or twice, but three times is too many. I've never claimed to be holy or blessed."

     "Oh, I'm so sorry, your-" Amara cuts herself off awkwardly. "Uhm. What should I call you then, Inquisitor?" 

     "You could use my name," she suggests. The teasing warmth in her tone takes the sting out of the words. The more she talks, the more she reminds Amara of her little sister. Now that she thinks about it, Lilly's nineteenth birthday must be next spring.

     "I don't think the Lady Ambassador would be pleased to hear me do that, my lady," Amara replies cautiously. 

     The Inquisitor rolls her eyes. "Josie cares too much about formality. Call me Miriani, please. I hear my name so rarely, these days."

     "Yes ser…"

     The Herald of Andraste crosses the room to sit in one of the other small wooden chairs that are scattered about for the use of the prison's guards and their guests. She pulls off a bite of bread with her teeth and munches on it, closing her eyes for a moment, enjoying the flavor. "Oh, this is fantastic. The cook's new assistant has really outdone himself. I'll have to see that someone confiscates Cook's switches before she does anything to make him want to leave."

     Amara eyes the bread in her own hand. She should probably wait, but… The Inquisitor makes another delighted sound in the back of her throat as she takes her next bite. It would probably be rude to let the bread get cold. Certainly. Very rude. She tears off a bite-sized chunk with her fingers and pops it in her mouth. Warm, buttery goodness bursts over her tongue and she understands the Inquisitor's reaction. The texture is excellent—soft, with just enough crisp in the crust to crunch when you bite it—and the flavor is perfect. It sends Amara back to festival days when her whole family would pile into their farm cart and ride up the road to the nearest village, where they could get bread from a real bakery instead of their mother's rather underwhelming stone oven. 

     They share a brief, companionable silence while they both give the bread their full attention, as it deserves.

     "So, Sergeant Voll from near-Tantervale," the Inquisitor opens eventually, "what brings you so far south?"

     "I joined up before Haven, your w- uh." Amara stumbles, because of course she does. Well, she didn't get this far without learning how to carry on despite awkwardness. "I got recruited in the early days. One of Lord Varric's initiatives in the Free Marches, I think."

     "Oh, I remember those," she smiles into the middle distance, tilting her chair back on two legs and balancing there. "Join the Inquisition for wealth, glory, and a chance to strike back at the sky!" she quotes melodramatically. "I never liked those posters. Did you ever see the ones Varric had printed with me on them?"

     The memory brings an involuntary grin to Amara's lips. "Yeah. They had you all glowing and righteous, with a big Inquisition symbol behind you, and sometimes a raven, right?"

     The Inquisitor groans. "They were terrible. I asked Varric to burn them. Of course, he thought that was hilarious, and Sera started sketching even worse ones. I think she's still got a stack hidden somewhere, waiting to ambush me with them." 

     Amara snorts. "I did run across one pinned to the door of the Singing Maiden. I hope for your sake it wasn't, er. Accurate." 

     "Oh Creators," the Inquisitor hides her face with her free hand. "I thought I took that down before anybody saw it. I told Sera no more art of me with my pants down, for all the good it did me. She reminds me of my cousins—causing problems then getting out of the consequences by being too cute to stay mad at."

     "My youngest brothers are like that," Amara commiserates. "Twins. Too smart for their own good and always up to something."

     "How old are they?" She inquires warmly. 

     "They'll be turning… Maker, must be twelve this summer." 

     "That's such a good year," Miriani smiles. "Three of my clanmates turned twelve a season or so before I left. It was like watching them turn into people in front of my eyes."

     "Yes!" Amara sits up straight in her chair to fix the Inquisitor with a startled look. "That's exactly the feeling. Like before they were echoing everything around them and all of a sudden they've got their own opinions."

     "And they're always such opinions!" she laughs. "I remember that was the year I decided we shouldn't have Keepers anymore. I suppose for a human child that would be like… trying to convince everyone that there shouldn't be chantry mothers, or schoolteachers."

      This draws another undignified snort from Amara. "Oh yes. I think my crusade was against eating meat from animals we'd named, but I remember that phase. Strange to think it happens to the Dalish as well."

     "Why strange?" Miriani takes another bite from the end of her bread and cocks her head, looking curiously at Amara in a motion oddly reminiscent of a bird. 

     "Well… I don't know," Amara hedges, unwilling to give voice to what she now realizes is a less-than-thoughtful preconception. She fumbles something else out in a hurry. "The Dalish we talked to were always so… closed off," she manages not to say "hostile," at least. 

     Miriani hums, considering Amara's words as though it hadn't taken her three minutes of mumbling to produce them. "I suppose we must seem that way, to humans. Do you know, my clan was chased out of a piece of woodland around Pasanan—that's a modest town just east of Ostwick—one year because a farmer saw one of the hunters near his barn, and a week later one of his cattle fell ill? He claimed our hunter must've put something in the feed. Why he would've done such a thing was never discussed, but the villagers came after us with torches and pitchforks."

     Amara frowns. "That's awful!"

     "Yes," Miriani agrees peaceably. "Another time, there'd been a bad harvest the season before we arrived in the area around Serrault. We didn't even camp for three days before the local humans were after us, hurling accusations of Dalish curses until we fled into the Tirashan. There's a varterral that lives on the edge of those woods, and Keeper Istimaethoriel woke it to defend us. If it hadn't driven them off, I truly believe they would've chased us till either we were all dead or they were. As it was, they killed three halla and six of our warriors."

     "I.. I don't know what to say," Amara confesses, appalled. "I'm so sorry."

     Miri waves her off with one hand, a bitter little smile on her face. Her eyes are hard and distant. "It's nothing you did. I'm sure there were perfectly reasonable people back in that village who knew we couldn't have had anything to do with the harvest, and who would've stopped their stupid neighbors if they could. I've long since outgrown holding a grudge against all humans for such things. Being angry at you for what they did would be as useless as them being mad at us over a drought. My point is that the Dalish have a great deal to lose by showing ourselves to be anything but perfect, harmless travelers. It's likely that anyone you spoke with was their clan's best negotiator. You wouldn't know us."

     "I want to," Amara blurts. She immediately bites her tongue. Insensitive, insubordinate, foolish…

     The Inquisitor's smile warms, however. Her fade-green eyes search Amara's face for a moment, and apparently find whatever they're looking for. She nods slightly. "I think I'd like that. It would be nice to talk about my people, if you want to learn. All my friends up there," she tilts her chin towards the stairs, "are either too busy or too caught up in their own troubles. I'd appreciate having…" and here Miriani hesitates. 

     "Well," her smile becomes a shade more self-deprecating, "a normal friend, I suppose. Someone who isn't…"

     "Someone?" Amara finishes, her own awkwardness soothed by the Inquisitor's. 

     "Yes," Miri agrees, relieved. "Sera would say 'someone little', but I wasn't sure how that would go over. But yes. If you'd like."

     "I would, your worship," Amara smiles back. This time, the title is teasing. Just a bit.

     Miri groans. "Please don't start with that again! I came down here to get away from all the stupid ceremony."

     Amara can't help it. She laughs. After a second, the Inquisitor joins her. Her laugh sounds rusty, a little unused, but Amara likes it. Despite the yawning gap between their ranks, despite the different races and the staggeringly disparate upbringings, maybe they can truly be friends. It's a pleasant thought.

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Evelyn & David's Relationship & Divorce Timeline Evelyn Cormier recently introduced her new boyfriend Harrison Holland, and there's plenty to learn about the 90 Day Fiancé alum Evelyn's post-show romance timeline with her ex, David Vázquez Zermeño. The 27-year-old David from Granada, Spain had come across a video of teenage Evelyn singing a Christian worship song. Her beautiful voice, and their shared faith, inspired David to send a photo of himself to Evelyn. When he did, he mentioned that they had a mutual friend. The two then started exchanging messages, When Evelyn finally met David in person, she fell for the good-natured Christian man. SCREENRANT VIDEO OF THE DAYSCROLL TO CONTINUE WITH CONTENT However, in 2023, things are a lot different for Evelyn and David. Evelyn's now a 24-year-old with a brand-new man. Earlier this month, Evelyn posted sweet selfies with her partner Harrison, and told her Instagram followers that, although she likes keeping her personal life mostly private, it was hard for her to keep her joy to herself. Therefore, Evelyn confirmed that the man in the photos was her new boyfriend. Evelyn's supporters celebrated her new relationship, especially since her last one was, according to her, troubled. Evelyn & David's Relationship Was Introduced On 90 Day Fiancé Season 5 David came to the U.S. in 90 Day Fiancé season 5, which meant that he and Evelyn had to get married within 90 days, or he'd have to go back to Spain. David and Evelyn's relationship was pretty tame compared to the other couples in the franchise, but their age gap was the biggest red flag. Evelyn was just 18 years old, and David was 27. The two had been saving themselves for marriage since Evelyn and David came from religious Christian families. She wanted to wed her Spanish fiance before their 1-year anniversary. Evelyn & David Got Married In October 2017 Evelyn wasn't exactly a fan favorite on 90 Day Fiancé. She and David argued often. Even if David had packed his bags and moved to New Hampshire, Claremont, he preferred life in the city. However, to Evelyn, her small town was her home. Evelyn was a control freak when it came to wedding planning. She wanted the groomsmen to wear tuxedos, but David knew his friends were already spending a lot on flying to the wedding. They could have worn simpler, cheaper clothes. Regardless, Evelyn and David got married in October 2017, some three years after David first commented on Evelyn's Instagram. Evelyn & David Appeared On 90 Day Fiancé Spin-off Love Games In 2019, Evelyn was featured in American Idol when she auditioned for season 17, by performing "Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak. Evelyn and David had moved from Claremont, New Hampshire, to Los Angeles in September 2019. She floored Katy Perry with her voice, and made it through the Hollywood Round to the Top 14. Evelyn and David didn't make another 90DF franchise appearance until they were cast in 90 Day Fiancé: Love Games in March 2021. They were one of the 24 different couples in the spin-off. They were going strong until episode 5, in which they couldn’t beat the controversial 90 Day Fiancé mother-son duo, Debbie and Colt Johnson. Evelyn & David Announce Their Split In March 2021, David had an accident, He was hospitalized after he was struck by a car while riding his bike to work. By then, David and Evelyn had faced constant split rumors because they were private on social media. Plus, Evelyn preferred to not wear her wedding ring in pictures. Evelyn had told People in February 2021, “It just gets annoying because, you know, people are constantly asking if we’re still together or, you know, checking if I’m wearing my wedding ring or if I’m not wearing my wedding ring.” She continued, “And I also think it's kind of a rude question to ask a married couple if they're still married.” However, the people who were trying to, “read into everything” were right after all. In November 2021, Evelyn confirmed that she'd decided to divorce David, “after prayerful consideration and counsel.” Her statement to InTouch shows Evelyn saying, “I’ve endured mental and emotional abuse because of a passionless, sexless, and narcissistic relationship.” She added, “This is a good reminder that not everything you see on social media is reality,” posting four years after their wedding. “This is a very difficult time for me and there is a long road of healing ahead, but I’m trusting God and the plan He has for me,” said Evelyn. David, “completely” denied, “those accusations.” Evelyn & David Finalize Their Divorce Out of his respect for the marriage that lasted four years, David chose, “not to disclose any more details.” Five months after the split announcement, Evelyn and David were officially divorced. UsWeekly reported that a judge signed the legal paperwork on April 22, 2022. It was Evelyn who'd filed for divorce in November 2021. This was the end of yet another 90 Day Fiancé romance, but a new beginning certainly, for Evelyn and David. Sources: People, InTouch, UsWeekly [ad_2] Read More

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: Playing Cards (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Playing Cards - Oneshot 

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A STORY UPDATE!

Author’s note:

Hey hi! This is part one of two (?) of the Playing Cards oneshot. I really had fun writing this short story and decided to break it up so it has its moment to shine! I never wrote an obsession to lover fic before so this is a little experiment for me. I like how Joker is all soft and lovey dovey from the jump for Y/n. Meanwhile she's trying to get out of dodge lol. Yeah I'm gonna have fun with this spin off story. 

Do enjoy! 

Taglist!

@blackreaderatrisk   @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angell @kaidennnnn @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @nanalover00​

The breaking news reel on your tv was just background noise at this point. Another crime reported in this crime infested city; you paid it no mind and continued to get dressed. Little did you know...

It was a rare day that it didn't rain in Gotham so you capitalized on the miracle and busted out your new kicks and skinny jeans for your trip to the bookstore.

You snagged your phone from the charger, ignoring the excessive amount of text messages from Barbara urging you to stay in, and made your way towards your front door. However you rounded back to grab your prized headphones.

Noise cancellation was a requirement in a noisy city like Gotham City. Now granted it wasn't the smartest move since you wouldn't hear any nearby gunshots or someone about to rob you, but you survived far worse in your hometown. Your tote bag was just a prop; your phone was glued to your hand and your ID and cash/credit card was tucked in your bra. You knew better.

Your favorite bookstore was in the same building as a popular coffee shop and conveniently across the street from a national bank.

This side of the intersection didn't get much foot traffic since most people used the coffee shop door instead of the bookstore entrance. Either way, the tiny bell above the door announced your arrival, although you didn't hear it. The cashier did and raised her head in greeting but decided to save her breath when she spotted your signature headphones walking by.

Darcy knew you by now. You didn't mean to be rude, you just weren't a socialist.

You would spend two, maybe three hours inside the bookstore browsing around, sipping coffee, or reading the first few chapters of a book before buying it. Some days you brought your laptop and bunkered down at one of the tables scattered about the store to work.

She never asked what it was you worked on and you hardly spoke to her except when it came time to pay. You tipped well and didn't cause any problems with the other customers. That's all she cared about.

You kept your playlist volume up high while you browsed through the vast romance and YA section. Your fingers would brush the spines of a book before you removed it from its home to read the blurb on the back or take a peek at the cover.

If it captured your interest, it was placed in the crook of your arm as you continued down the aisle, head tilted sideways. You'd have a stiff neck later but 'tis the life of a booknerd. This process could go on for hours.

If you didn't have (favorite artist)'s latest song blasting in your ear, you would've heard the startled screams from the other patrons and the ear splitting sound of glass breaking. The entire row of windows facing the street was suddenly shot out. Unfortunately you were none the wiser.

You placed a reverse harem novel back on the shelf and was turning around the corner when a body slammed into your side. The stack of books in your arm went crashing to the ground.

A "Oh my gosh! I'm sorry!" immediately left your mouth as you bent down to pick up your fallen selections.

"Ugh I truly am sorry. I'm such a huge klutz..." Your apology died on your lips when a hand dragged you back down for cover.

The grip was too rough, the hands too cold, so your eyes traveled from the purple gloved holding you to the face it was connected to. Your soul floated up to the ceiling at the sight.

The Joker, Gotham City's worst criminal, (who was supposed to be imprisoned on Arkham Island mind you) was gesturing for you to keep quiet as he looked over your head and through the bookshelves.

Your entire body was shaking. Screw the books. You wouldn't be leaving this store alive. His deadly eyes took a moment to roam your features, silently admiring your beauty but quickly returned to the front of the store. Now was not the time to get distracted.

Joker fled the bank across the street a few minutes ago and he would admit the bookstore wasn't the best hideout. It was too close to the scene and there was no unmarked back entrance to use. Soooo his next idea was a good ol' fashioned hostage and getaway. That's where you came along!

The coffee addicts ran the moment he shattered the window. Everyone else took off when he fired off a few warning shots into the ceiling before ducking for cover himself.

He could hear sirens from here confirming that GCPD was nearing the scene of the crime. In seconds Gotham's finest would be hot on his tail. He needed to blend in or get out of dodge and fast.

Joker was not expecting anyone to still be in the aisles, especially this far into the store, but then he caught sight of your bright colored headphones hidden in your delicate curls and put the puzzle pieces together.

A loner, a true kindred spirit like himself. You were lost in your own world, nodding along to whatever beat drowned out the chaos around you. Apparently you were more invested in the book in your hand– okay perhaps not. Joker watched you push it back onto the shelf and he decided to bomb rush you at that exact moment. Right as he tackled you, an officer spotted him.

"Over here!"

Your heart threatened to jump out of your chest as a clip of bullets rang out over your music and rained books down from the shelves above straight into your lap. One hardcover fell and knocked your headphones clean off but the dull ache was the least of your worries.

You finally heard everything and it was utter chaos. You slapped your hands over your ears to muffle the sensory overload. The loud popping noise, the blaring sirens, and the approaching shouts was jarring but so was the feeling of Joker shielding you from wayward bullets. Over the commotion, you heard his low raspy voice speak up.

"I uh like that one." You blinked in shock and stared at the deranged clown protecting you. The fact that he went out his way to do so had you so confused.

His eyes were fixated on the random book that fell into your lap. On TV Joker's eyes appeared darker than the night, but up close you discovered they were a unique shade of green. He caught your eye, forcing your line of sight to your lap.

You averted your attention to the book and read the title, Distracted By Her Justice by some up and coming YA author. It was on your tbr list but not on today's purchase list. You had to enforce a limit or you would spend all of your rent money.

'If I ever make it out of this alive I am totally moving to a better apartment.' You thought wryly.

You already had four books well within your budget to purchase. "I-I can't afford this." You blurted out. Somehow your outcry was absolutely funny to Joker.

GCPD officers had stopped firing to actually comb the maze of bookshelves for Joker but that didn't stop him from bursting out laughing. His jovial, yet sinister laugh was like ice in your veins. There was an edge to it that terrified you. It was something straight out of a horror film.

He reached out and patted your face twice. Each sting brought tears to your eyes. He made sure to lower his voice so only you and him could hear.

"You should get it. And ahhhhh.." He fished around inside of his pockets for something. You frowned hearing metal clink against metal and wondered what he had hidden inside. "Here's my, uh, card."

He showed you an average Joker from a deck of cards. You eyed it and then his haunting green eyes staring straight into your soul. Surely this was a joke.

He nodded eagerly at you; like he was urging you to take it. If you looked more closely you would've seen his lips mouthing, 'take it' over and over. You hesitated.

"You can't be serious." His red grin quickly fell.

Great, now you made The Joker mad. You signed your death warrant right then and there but much to your shock, Joker simply leaned in closer as if he wasn't already pressed up against you.

His personal brand of cologne consisting of gasoline, something acidic, and cigarettes quickly overwhelmed your senses. You tried leaning away but the hard surface of the bookshelf dug into your back halted your escape.

Joker made sure to invade the last of your personal space with his nose nearly touching yours and his breath fanning over your skin. "I'm always serious. Take. It." You held back tears and took the card from his grasp.

The cops searching the bookstore and the loose pages of books still floating in the air didn't matter. Right now Joker's focus on you took center stage.

Your hand brushed against his during the exchange and the contact churned your stomach. He thought otherwise. Your touch was like electricity shocking him back to life. If Joker thought he was interested in you before then was absolutely obsessed with you now.

Joker admired the frightened look on your face and studied every flicker of emotion that swirled within your e/c orbs. All in all, Joker stared at you like were his next meal.

Gotham City had its fair share of cannibals so you wouldn't be surprised if you actually were.

You felt way too exposed in your halter top and high waisted jeans. Those eyes of his were bottomless pits, unnerving and unrelenting watching its prey. Cornered by a ferocious lion, you became aware of the intimate position Joker put you in. You always joked about finding the love of your life in a bookstore. This was not how it was supposed to go.

You hated your mind for even thinking about The Joker in a romantic way but he was rather attractive up close...

But he's a literal psychopath Y/n. Stand uppp.

Your subconscious had a valid point. You bit your lips and looked off to the side ashamed of your own lustful thoughts. Joker's eyes followed your pink tongue darting out and mirrored the motion with his own. You were such a tease, it was maddening.

Thankfully you didn't see Joker practically drooling over you and even better, you would never know about the disturbing thoughts swarming inside his head. His current thoughts could make a prostitute blush. You could help Joker out of the pickle he found himself in and serve as a form of entertainment while doing so. That is if you cooperated.

Your eyes eventually flickered back to Joker only to find that he was still staring at you. His green eyes would haunt your dreams after today.

You couldn't stomach the awkward silence anymore. "Um.. they've stopped shooting now. You can get off of me."

His lithe body felt too good pressed up against yours. His body ran like a furnace and the heat from him was wearing down your resolve.

Joker raised an eyebrow at your labored breathing and made a show of looking out from the hiding hole he made for the two of you. No one ever ventured this deep into the bookstore and it seemed like the GCPD gave up trying to find Joker within the shelves of literature. It was so quiet you could hear your own heart pounding.

In your mind you thought the madness was over. Joker on the other hand knew better. Gordon and his men were some persistent little piggies. They wouldn't give up the chase just because they were too lazy to search every aisle. No. Joker knew they were waiting for him to make the next move. And boy did he have a trick up his sleeve.

"Is that all you're getting?"

It took you a minute but Joker was talking about the few books you had picked out. With his recommendation, it rounded out to five. You nodded.

"Go~od. Let's go check out, shall we?" You knew he was brewing up something evil.

His frightening smile confirmed it.

Jim Gordon sealed off the back entrance and assigned his men to guard the main and side door that connected from inside the coffee shop. No eye witnesses reported seeing Joker fleeing the scene so that meant the freak was still inside.

All employee personnel had been evacuated safely but the book clerk on duty was quick to notify the authorities that you were unaccounted for. Apparently you were a regular and entered the store with headphones on. If that were the case, you were oblivious to the psychopath barricaded inside with you.

Gordon decided to wait and see what The Joker would do. There wasn't any moment inside the building but sure enough, Joker emerged from the bookshelves, dragging you in front of him as his human shield.

Of course he used you as a hostage. Jim noticed you were oddly calm for someone being held at knifepoint but thought nothing of it.

It had been over an hour since his men first responded to the scene. Joker could have blackmailed you into cooperating by now. Jim was surprised at the things people would do when their lives were at stake. That didn't matter. If everything worked out, you would walk out of this situation alive and well. Batman was en route and would be hauling Joker back to Arkham Asylum right where the clown belonged.

But right now things were tense and anything could happen.

Joker knew when he had an audience and you were the perfect leading lady for his performance. He bent down to whisper more instructions into your ear as you clutched your books for dear life. Ever  since Joker ordered you up off the floor back in the romance section he kept a knife to your jugular.

He reassured you that you would be paying for your books and leaving.

"Ya just gotta walk with me to the front. Can ya do that for me doll?" You chose to ignore the way his voice calling you doll made butterflies flutter inside your stomach.

The longer you stayed in Joker's presence, the harder it became to fight against his charms. He was winning and he knew it.

Your eyes wandered over towards the heavy police presence at the front of the store. By the looks of it, the whole precinct was here. Your wet sob caught in your throat when you saw them raise their weapons at you and Joker.

"Hold your fire! He's got a hostage!" You heard the commissioner shout. Thank goodness someone had some common sense around here.

Joker pushed you to a stop right at the entrance to the cashier line before he glanced around. His greasy hair tickled your cheek with each of his erratic movements.

"The uh.. customer service here is, well, severely lacking. We'd like to checK out now." He taunted the police force blocking his escape.

Gordon wasn't here to play games. He just had to stall until Batman arrived. "Lower your weapon and let her go!"

You heard Joker smack his lips before glancing down at you. "Now... why would I do thaT, Commissioner?" He mocked. "She's a valued customer or so I heard. Isn't that right uh.."

It dawned on Joker that he didn't catch your name. Not like it mattered for his escape plan but he found himself wanting to know.

"Doll?" The nickname would have to do for now. You seemed to respond to it well enough.

You nodded along hoping that the Commissioner saw the desperation in your eyes. Joker dug the knife deeper into your skin making you realize that you forgot your cue.

"Yes! Y-Yes! I just... I just wanna purchase my books and g-go home. That's all."

Jim weighed out his options. Allowing another potential hostage back into the scene was insane yet the longer he stalled the knife at your throat dug in deeper. You whined when it finally punctured your skin and Joker was quick to calm you down. His callous, shh shhh's, only made the pain worse.

"Ma'am wait, it's not safe!!"

Jim and Joker turned towards the main entrance where an officer failed to hold back the bookstore clerk. Darcy ducked under the caution tape and ran behind the counter much to Gordon's shock.

"Ma'am get out of here! It's—"

"I can help the next guest." Her voice wavered and Joker chuckled seeing that he now had two actresses for his show.

"Now that.. thaT is customer service! You heard her toots. We're next." He walked you backwards towards the register and you dropped your books on the counter for Darcy to ring up.

In the corner of your eye you saw the Commissioner signal something to his men. Unfortunately Joker figured out their plan and flipped you around so his back faced the checkout counter instead. You were stuck in his embrace still protecting him from any bullets should the cops try to shoot.

Joker was clever as he was dangerous.

"Go on doll." Joker murmured and kissed the crown of your head. You locked eyes with the Dary as she blushed but began her job. You stayed perfectly still in your bear hug with Joker knowing that all eyes were on you.

Darcy cleared her throat, "D-Did you find everything okay? We.. we um moved the genres around over the weekend and.."

You didn't mean to. Honestly you didn't. But when Joker began planting small kisses on your neck, you moaned. You didn't know if he was just screwing around or actually trying to calm your nerves, regardless it didn't help the situation.

"Y-Yeah! I like the new layout. Much ah.. easier." You yelped.

On a regular day this exchange would just be an overly affectionate boyfriend waiting for his girlfriend to pay. Far too much PDA, but acceptable. Yet Darcy saw the tears in your eyes and the green haired monster cuddling up to you was anything but affectionate or boyfriend material. She was crazy for coming back in here but you needed her support right now.

So with a tight smile she continued scanning your books and pulled up your account. "Y-You have some store points available, Y/n." Her eyes shifted to Joker who stiffened up after hearing your name.

He presented his profile to her. Locking eyes with his dark glare terrified Darcy to the core. Her hands froze waiting on his next move. He silently thanked the cashier for introducing your name into the conversation.

So your name was Y/n. Oh you lived up to the name and then some! It was perfect for a beauty like you. Joker faced the storefront again with this newfound information but not without leaving another unnerving kiss to the back of your neck.

Your head was fuzzy at this point. You shook your head to try and clear it. "Whah?" You stuttered.

"Do ya wanna use your uh points Y/n? I'm paying so why don't ya... preserve those for next time, hmm?" Joker suggested in your ear.

Your eyelids fluttered at his hot breath dancing on your skin and nodded at Darcy, "Yeah that. That's fine."

When would this madness be over? Meanwhile Gordon was outside briefing his men on the situation.

"I have a shot Gordon!" The sharpshooter yelled over the earpiece.

Batman was still delayed with another crime in progress. The situation wasn't getting any better and to make matters worse Joker was showing off his control over the scene right in their faces.

"We are not shooting an innocent civilian! Unless it's a clean shot, your orders remain the same!" Jim replied into his radio.

Sometimes he questioned the morals of his own men. He shook his head and glanced inside the bookstore. He could see Joker holding you tightly and the clown had the audacity to kiss and love all over you.

His gestures kept the both of you moving and there was no way GCPD'S marksmen could get a clear shot and not hurt you in the process. Your back was shielding Joker's front and once it was time to make a payment, there would be no opportunity to pull the trigger.

They fell right into Joker's trap. Gordon cursed and demanded another ETA on their masked vigilante. This was out of their control now.

Back inside you were about to reach for your debit card when Joker stopped you.

"Aht ahtttt. I. Told. You." He tipped your head back with a gloved finger. Once again the knife found a place against your skin, this time on your lower lip.

"I'm paying." He growled.

He flicked his card towards Darcy who scrambled to catch it before it fell behind the counter. Much to her confusion it was just a playing card.

You shared a look with her. 'I know. Just play along.'

Right as she was going to ask for a legit payment method, the ceiling caved in, announcing Batman's dramatic entrance. Darcy screamed and ducked for cover. You wished you could do the same. Joker simply spun you around and laughed at his bestie.

"Well look who decided to finally show up! You're very,, very late bats!" Joker shifted and quickly sealed a kiss on your lips. "Time for you to skedaddle, doll."

You were numb even as Joker shoved you out the way right as Batman raised his fist to strike. You didn't think; you got to your feet and ran to the front of the store where the Commissioner was urging you towards safety.

"Are you alright? Did he hurt you?" Jim and another cop asked you questions a mile a minute but you were in total shock. You heard nothing except the pounding of your own heart.

"H-He kissed me."

[wintcosmetics]

Harvest moon ds walkthrough

#Harvest moon ds walkthrough series

Once you come round, it emerges that the town has essentially been deserted, when the lighthouse's everlasting light was mysteriously extinguished. Shipwrecked, you drift into a small harbour town, once known for its mighty lighthouse, and are saved by a friendly young doctor called Jeanne. Looking for a change of scenery and a fresh start, you set off on a voyage to begin a new life - but, unfortunately, en route to your destination, your ship gets hit by a storm. What is the story in Harvest Moon: Light of Hope? All versions of the game on the Playstation 4 and Nintendo Switch are by default the Special Edition, so console players don't need to watch out for different editions or worry about missing out on anything - there is no standard edition - it's just a bit of a confusing name. The same game is now being remade for the Playstation 4 and Nintendo Switch under the Harvest Moon: Light of Hope Special Edition name, with a few extra additions (most notably an extra romance character - and co-op!). Harvest Moon: Light of Hope originally released on the PC, via Steam, back in November 2017. What's so special about the Harvest Moon: Light of Hope Special Edition? Natsume meanwhile started to make their own version of the game, but still under the same Harvest Moon moniker as before.

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A few years ago, the studio - and therefore the series - split, with publishers Natsume keeping the Harvest Moon licence, and developers Marvelous moving on to make Harvest Moon-alike Story of Seasons instead. More people means more shops, more requests and more faces to befriend, as you carve out your own little rural niche - and who knows, you might even fall in love and start a family too?įor those that haven't been following the series as closely these past few years, it's worth noting that Harvest Moon is no longer developed by the same people as it once was. By planting crops, tending to your farm and looking after your animals, you'll gradually begin to help rebuild the dilapidated Beacon Town, encouraging new people to move in. The newest instalment in the long-running Harvest Moon series, Harvest Moon: Light of Hope, brings more of the same farming, friendship-forming fun, this time to the Playstation 4 and Nintendo Switch. What is Harvest Moon: Light of Hope Special Edition? Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head. If you do not like what was received from the ore or tree, reload the saved game, and try again.I've got a lovely bunch of cabbages, there they are all standing in a row. Save the game before mining an ore lode or chopping a mysterious tree. You will have unlimited time and stamina and can quickly level up before actually starting the game. Instead of following him, tile as much land as possible. When first starting, at the end of the short tutorial where the Harvest Sprite introduces tools and stamina, he will float away and ask you to follow. Woody (Green Harvest Sprite): Meet Catherine, get the axe from Tony, then cut down the trees that could not be taken down with your Old Axe. Oliver (Purple Harvest Sprite): Find the three missing Seasons. Flint (Orange Harvest Sprite): Meet Tony and Emily, get the hammer from Tony, and go to the Underworld Kingdom. Dewey (Blue Harvest Sprite): Catch five fish with the fishing rod obtained from Gilbert. Calvin (Red Harvest Sprite): Place the barn obtained from Doc, and take care the cow obtained from Hunter. Successfully complete the indicated task to unlock the corresponding sprite:īlossom (Pink Harvest Sprite): Plant the Pink Pansy Seeds obtained from Sam.