#but Without Tom there is no top gun full stop

[saltyfilmmajor]

I know in my heart of hearts that they were not going to give tom that best acting nom but by god it makes me sad

[caffeinated-fan]

Desktop>logs>Iceman

Chapter 2

Summary:

A glimpse into a slow day at Top Gun, complete with minor inconveniences and lonely wallowing, hurray!

Notes:

This is my first real attempt at a long fic, and trying to come up with a story. This chapter was started over *checks notes* 267 days ago.... I've spent that past (almost) year reading RoosterForMe fics on tumblr and trying wrangle a similar vibe for this. If you want to read *chef's kiss* TG:M fics I cannot recommend her works enough. <3<3<3

Tuesday morning, 10th June.

Laundry, and sweeping. Groceries-MILK and creamer

I was writing my day plans out, my coffee getting colder next to me. Scribbling in the dates of upcoming appointments and services. My pen settled on the square for Saturday, scribbled in hasty pencil marks was ‘Dinner w/ Kazansky, Kans. Barbeque’.

This would be fine, it wasn’t going to suck. Barbeque is good, and therefore things around barbeque are also good.

“That’s a normal thing to think,” I mumbled to myself, taking a sip of coffee. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy being around other people, quite the opposite.

It’s fine, no one would look at an archivist and assume they’re a party animal. Tom seemed to enjoy my company, he somehow made it easier to talk to him. Like he understood when to give me space to talk, not bowling me over to finish what I was saying.

I stowed my journal in my backpack and set out to work. Stopping by my door to plop my basil plant outside.

“Bye, Boski Boo!” I hollered at the small aquarium in the living room before shutting the door.

I drove up to the MA at the base’s gate, holding out my ID, and sliding my bag to the front to let him check it. The ammunition pouches on his kevlar vest sagged inward without clips to hold them open, but the clip in his gun kept the impression that he very much would shoot me if he had to. I drove past him, continuing down a road leading along the edge of base. Despite working here for almost a year I had rarely seen further into the base, my clearance only allowing me a few blocks in. But, I still got to see the buzz of military life in the distance. I had started getting used to the sound of aircraft zipping overhead and buzzing buildings when they came in to land. Although it made calling people while on base a nightmare with jet engines often drowning out both ends of the line.

I hopped out of my car slinging my bag over my shoulder. The brick building stood in the middle of a perfectly kept green, the paved paths clean and swept. As I walked up the path I remembered my first week here, I would cut the corner and step across the grass. Finally I noticed each time I did a sailor would wince or grimace to themselves. One finally told me they’d had it beaten into them to Never EVER walk on the grass. Apparently one of the Officers liked to make sailors who broke that rule crawl on all fours on the grass next to the paved path.

The doors to the archival building stuck as I moved inside, the sea air eating away at the metal. I waved quickly at the receptionist (Katy?) making a b-line for my office. I pushed the power switch on my computer and set about emptying my bag while it booted up. Digging through the mail for any updates on requested materials and orders for copies.

...

Stacking file-boxes full of newly printed copies, I pushed through my office door towards the archives. Walking down the aisles, carefully returning the cassettes to their boxes along with their CD copies. I’d finished up the day after Tom came by. I'd spent the rest of that day thinking about him sitting quietly, flipping through manila folders. ___

I sat clicking my pen, glancing up at Tom through the open doors. His head was bowed, nose almost touching the papers he was looking at. Leaning on his forearms, his hands cradling his head.

“We have magnifying glasses if you need one,” I softly called out. Tom's head popped up, still hunched over the paper.

“That'd be great, thank you.” He pushed up and rubbed at his eyes. I pulled open a desk drawer, grabbed what I needed and headed over.

“I'm surprised you don't need glasses,” I joked, handing him the magnifying glass.

“Hm. Not yet, but I don't doubt that grandpa reading glasses are in my future.” The mental image of Tom with glasses popped into my head. Oh. That's not bad at all…Maybe he's a horn-rimmed glasses guy, maybe more classic chic,

....

Okay, she's definitely thinking about me in glasses, now. I had no intent on telling her the grandpa glasses were fully in use already. Thankfully I'd only ruined my near sight from shoving my nose in books all day. I'm not sure I could survive Mav knowing I need glasses.

“I'm sure you'll look very distinguished when the day comes.” I felt her hand land on my shoulder before she walked away. Back through the two doorways to sit behind her desk. My face a little warm at the thought of someone finding my glasses attractive

My eyes dropped down to the papers in front of me. A-5 Vigilante variable geometry and their wind tunnel results. My brain goes back to running its two trains of thought. Half of my mind was focusing on the words, the other half combing through ideas to get her to come back over. I cleared my throat, leaning towards the doorway.

“There's one configuration for the A-5 that's an almost wingless design..” ___

The quiet of the archival room pressed against my ears. Layers of paper and cardboard softening the outside world as it slips through the roof and chatters along the metal I-beams.

“Weh, Wil, WILLIAMS! James E.,” my shout of triumph cut through the silence like a knife careening through a window. Pulling down the box I gently laid the cassettes and CDs onto a new cardboard divider and closed the box. My eyes cast around the large, quiet room as I gathered up the box to put it away. The desk by the door, the foldout steel chair looking morose and empty. He’d even pushed it back in. The magnifying glass neatly tucked against the wall. I hadn't had anyone come into records just to read for leisure in a few months. Mostly older sailors coming in on a slow day to peruse photographs and battle plans. I huffed and pushed the box onto the shelf and headed back to my office.

My open notebook caught my attention as I sat back down, Dinner w/ Tom circled in red on the 14th. The day before catching my eye, Friday 13th, making me smile. If I made it through that BBQ would be a nice reward for not getting murdered.

…

“Lieutenant Kazansky to tower, pre-flight checklist complete, awaiting orders.”

“Acknowledged, await further instructions,” the operator’s voice took on a less professional tone as she continued, “Get comfy, Ice, the engineers are still checking the runway for debris.” A jet had come in after hitting some birds and had left some nasty gifts for the ground crews, no one was injured thankfully. I shoved my head back as much as the crowded cockpit would let me. I'd gladly spend all day in my jet but for God's sake usually I was flying. I felt Slider jostle around behind me as he sat forward in his seat.

“Since we have some time to ourselves, let me tell you about that blonde, Rachel,” Slider said, his mask clunking against my chair.

“Is this the dumb one or the pretty dumb one?” I joked, remembering the two from last week. We'd gone to a bar far enough off base that the girls were excited to see a pilot but not total tag chasers. Slider had spent the night with a blonde on each arm like he was weighing his decision on who to stick with me. He was a hell of a RIO, and a decent wingman. Meaning he'd figure out fast if I wanted a girl that night and happily take home both if I didn't.

“Ha-Ha. Condescending laugh. She was plenty smart, works as a receptionist for some big company. Likes old planes. Anyway, she's got a friend, a stewardesses, coming in to visit next week who just adores the strong silent type. Said she'd love to set you up on a double date with us.”

“She sounds less like a hit it and quit it and more like a date, Slider,” I joked. He huffed and sat back in his seat. I waited for him to say some snappy comeback.

“Slider?...She was a one nighter, right?”

“...”

“Oh-ho-ho, Cupid landed a shot last night? That's great Slide, why the hell'd ya keep it from me?” Slider wasn't some chauvinistic prick who'd rather die than say he gets the warm fuzzies.

“Well, she was, a one night, ya'know. I spent the night-,” “Nice.” “I was going to head back home but she offered to order some food and we started talking. Then in the morning she said there was a nice brunch place on the way back to the bar. Her car is cool too, shitty driver though. It just kinda smacked into me, she's so cool, man. I was like some dopey highschooler, cracking jokes and being terrified I'd annoy her somehow.”

“You? Annoy someone? Impossible, you only chew all your pencils and think out loud, have awful hygiene…” I joked, Slider pushing against my chair, before continuing. “I'd love to meet her, blind double date be damned.”

“Tower to Lieutenants, clear to proceed to the runway.”

…

This sucked. Okay not suck-sucks, but I was getting tired of this E-3 and his adherence to Not Helping Me. The wobbly stool was not helping me either, threatening to tip over as I grabbed boxes from the top shelf. He had been courteous when he’d told me what he needed from the archives, though his kindness ended there. Letting me climb up and down to retrieve the hefty boxes.

“Why weren’t you given a ladder? Shouldn’t there be a ladder just for this room?” he asked, shifting the boxes next to him with his foot. He reached up and steadied my back as I climbed down.

“No, there isn’t. The building flooded a few years back and it rusted. Now, we have stools.” I dusted down my shirt and took the box from him. “S’That everything? Good.” GET OUT. He pulled a smile and lead the way out. Catching the door with his shoulder and nodding me past.

I dropped the box I was holding in his arms (probably harder than I should given the contents), pulled a smile, and went to my office. “Thank you, Ma'm. I'll be sure to get these back to you, all papers present.” He flashed a grin and adjusted the boxes to keep them stacked.

“Hope this isn’t the only trip you take over here,” the receptionist, (Katy, no Kathy?) said, pushing her chair back to get the main doors.

“Oh, I don’t think my CO will ever stop sending me here, ‘course you could always come see me.”

I pulled my door closed to avoid hearing them flirt. Kathy (I’ve decided that had to be it) liked uniforms more than the person in them, always chasing around the sailors who’d recently been stationed here. I sat back in my chair with a sigh, trying to calm myself. I shouldn’t be upset. That E-3 wasn’t doing anything wrong. I had no real reason to be annoyed with him. A small flush of guilt spread up my neck. I hated being mad, I hated losing control over myself, I hated how people treated me like a child when I got upset. I blew out a breath, leaned forward, and started typing in the logged out materials.

…

My keys slid into the lock as I shoved my body weight against it. I dropped my bag inside the door, and scooped up my basil plant. The door clicked shut behind me, shutting out the last bit of light. The light of Boski’s tank barely lit up the room as I walked over to him. Boski, my comet goldfish, stared in my general direction from his tank as he swam slowly around. I watched with a small smile as he passed under the sign I hung above his cave, “Lord Byron Boksilous the Spacious”.

“Well, Boski-nova, I had a very boring day, I don’t know how you manage.” I sat down on the floor then let my body fall flat on the carpet. I really did like this job, the hours were fine, pay was decent. My dad had told me stories about how good it was to be contracted by the military in some way. While I wasn’t directly contracted I still had nice benefits.

“Only reason they're so good is no one else is there. It’s one of the largest on base repositories and they hired one person, Boski.” The hand I had raised to make my point clear to Boski flopped down beside me.

“One, angry, lonely person…” Drowning in a little pity pool sounded like a good ending to this day. I layed there watching the reflections of the tank on the walls.

…

My truck's engine rumbled against my back as I stood across from Cary in some hotel parking lot. I’d driven her back after Slider went home with Rachel again, leaving Cary to get a cab. She’d hesitantly accepted my offer to drive her and I’d spent the whole time salvaging my image. It'd been a rocky start to our double date. I spent a good while getting back into the swing of flirting. Cary’d spent the date flicking her attention from me to the first round college game over my shoulder. Slider was right, the two women did enjoy aviation talk. We'd regaled them with training tales and finished with our great tale of flying with Mav, I embellished his prowess for the night, no use adding to his reputation. Now, she stood a few feet away smoking under a half-alive lamppost, the sickly green light making her dress look a weird ocean blue.

“Are you leaving or do you wanna come up?” She’d been smoking in silence for so long I jumped a little. Her eyes were locked on me, her expression was fixed between boredom and bedroom eyes. Or just tired. She’d told me how little sleep she got when she worked, catching a few hours in a cramped hotel room with three other girls. I weighed my options, the evening was awkward and she wasn’t as nice as Rachel was. She wasn’t bratty, she just didn’t care to work around feelings. Preferring to speak as frankly as she could without being overly rude. She was hot, pretty tall, and seemed to have gotten over my rocky start.

She walked to the hotel door and threw away her cigarette, standing by the side entrance. I opened my truck's cab, turned the engine off and put the key in my jacket. My legs carried me to her side as she opened the door, leading me inside.

The door’s lock clicks closed softly

[my-weird-news]

🔥 Culture Clash Explodes in Movie About Child Trafficking!

Right-Wing Blockbusters: Where Explosions Meet Ideology So, picture this: the culture war marches into the movies, but it’s not just your regular ol' conservative grumble about movies being too darn liberal. Nope, nowadays, conservative filmmakers are storming in with their own flicks, waving the flag of unexpected hits and a truckload of ideology. And guess what? They're rocking the cinematic stage, complete with moral panic, secret leftist conspiracies, and a good dash of feeling persecuted. Cue the spotlight on the latest sensation in this right-wing rollercoaster: Sound of Freedom. Starring none other than Jim Caviezel, this film does a little tap dance on the true-ish story of Tim Ballard, the man behind Operation Underground Railroad (OUR). With Elon Musk and Mel Gibson cheering from the sidelines, the movie squared off against Indiana Jones and his magical dial thingy. And get this: it reportedly out-earned Harrison Ford's adventure by a few million bucks. Not too shabby for the underdog indie, huh? But wait, the tale takes a turn towards the absurd. Left-wing folks start aiming their snark cannons at Sound of Freedom, not just for its QAnon-like vibes, but also at the way people are watching it. I mean, some of these viewers are acting like they're at a Top Gun reunion! Is this a movie or a patriotic pilgrimage? Oh, and if that isn’t enough, the film's financial backer gets slapped with a felony kidnapping charge. Yeah, that’s right. Welcome to Hollywood, where reality is wilder than any script. Now, let's talk about the hype machine. Sound of Freedom wasn’t born in Tinseltown but found its savior in Angel Studios, a Utah-based indie company that crowdfunded its way to cinematic glory. They even got Tony Robbins to throw in some dough. Talk about a fan club! The film's not just a movie; it's a patriotic duty, a divine obligation to watch it. And the fun doesn't stop there. Caviezel himself steps in at the end, rallying the troops to buy more tickets and make Sound of Freedom the Uncle Tom's Cabin of modern slavery. Move over, popcorn, it's time to save the world! But as we dive deeper, we hit some rocky waters. QAnon, anyone? The film's not explicitly endorsing it, but the vibes are... there. Caviezel's been dancing with QAnon rhetoric like it's the cha-cha. And guess what? He's even comparing QAnon skeptics to Nazi and Klan fans. Bravo, maestro! Critics, meanwhile, are caught in a circus. They’re getting hit with threats and bizarre theories, all while trying to figure out if the film's really about child trafficking or just a twisted game of telephone. But hold on to your hats, 'cause Sound of Freedom isn't just a movie—it’s also a battlefield. There's the struggle between the film’s earnest plea to save the kids and its shadowy connection to QAnon’s wacky world. Who knew a blockbuster could be so complicated? And speaking of battles, can we just have a regular movie night without sparking a political inferno? Can conservatives enjoy their popcorn and liberals their candy without it turning into a civilizational showdown? But wait, there’s more! The movie's not just a movie; it’s a full-course meal of conservative values. Rugged heroes, patriotic fervor, and a dash of conspiracy—you know, the whole shebang. It's like a cinematic pizza topped with political pepperoni. But let's cut to the chase. Is it really about saving the kids, or is it just another front in the political rumble? OUR might sound heroic, but in reality, it's got a rap sheet of dubious claims and murky motives. So, let's unravel this puzzle: Is Sound of Freedom a crusade against child trafficking, or just a tool for conservatives to stick it to their lefty foes? Who knows, maybe the real rescue mission is rescuing the movie from the clutches of conspiracy. But hey, don't let all the chaos kill the vibe. At its core, Sound of Freedom is just an action flick. Explosions, adrenaline, and a good ol' dose of Hollywood escapism—it's like Taken, with a side of culture war. So, can we enjoy a movie without unleashing a political storm? Can we gobble popcorn without swallowing a whole ideology? It’s a cinematic tug of war, and the only winners seem to be confusion and controversy. In the end, whether you're on the left or the right, one thing's for sure: the movies have become a battlefield where ideology and entertainment wage a never-ending war. So, grab your ticket and buckle up—it's gonna be a bumpy ride! 🍿🎬# Right-Wing Blockbusters: Where Explosions Meet Ideology So, picture this: the culture war marches into the movies, but it’s not just your regular ol' conservative grumble about movies being too darn liberal. Nope, nowadays, conservative filmmakers are storming in with their own flicks, waving the flag of unexpected hits and a truckload of ideology. And guess what? They're rocking the cinematic stage, complete with moral panic, secret leftist conspiracies, and a good dash of feeling persecuted. Cue the spotlight on the latest sensation in this right-wing rollercoaster: Sound of Freedom. Starring none other than Jim Caviezel, this film does a little tap dance on the true-ish story of Tim Ballard, the man behind Operation Underground Railroad (OUR). With Elon Musk and Mel Gibson cheering from the sidelines, the movie squared off against Indiana Jones and his magical dial thingy. And get this: it reportedly out-earned Harrison Ford's adventure by a few million bucks. Not too shabby for the underdog indie, huh? But wait, the tale takes a turn towards the absurd. Left-wing folks start aiming their snark cannons at Sound of Freedom, not just for its QAnon-like vibes, but also at the way people are watching it. I mean, some of these viewers are acting like they're at a Top Gun reunion! Is this a movie or a patriotic pilgrimage? Oh, and if that isn’t enough, the film's financial backer gets slapped with a felony kidnapping charge. Yeah, that’s right. Welcome to Hollywood, where reality is wilder than any script. Now, let's talk about the hype machine. Sound of Freedom wasn’t born in Tinseltown but found its savior in Angel Studios, a Utah-based indie company that crowdfunded its way to cinematic glory. They even got Tony Robbins to throw in some dough. Talk about a fan club! The film's not just a movie; it's a patriotic duty, a divine obligation to watch it. And the fun doesn't stop there. Caviezel himself steps in at the end, rallying the troops to buy more tickets and make Sound of Freedom the Uncle Tom's Cabin of modern slavery. Move over, popcorn, it's time to save the world! But as we dive deeper, we hit some rocky waters. QAnon, anyone? The film's not explicitly endorsing it, but the vibes are... there. Caviezel's been dancing with QAnon rhetoric like it's the cha-cha. And guess what? He's even comparing QAnon skeptics to Nazi and Klan fans. Bravo, maestro! Critics, meanwhile, are caught in a circus. They’re getting hit with threats and bizarre theories, all while trying to figure out if the film's really about child trafficking or just a twisted game of telephone. But hold on to your hats, 'cause Sound of Freedom isn't just a movie—it’s also a battlefield. There's the struggle between the film’s earnest plea to save the kids and its shadowy connection to QAnon’s wacky world. Who knew a blockbuster could be so complicated? And speaking of battles, can we just have a regular movie night without sparking a political inferno? Can conservatives enjoy their popcorn and liberals their candy without it turning into a civilizational showdown? But wait, there’s more! The movie's not just a movie; it’s a full-course meal of conservative values. Rugged heroes, patriotic fervor, and a dash of conspiracy—you know, the whole shebang. It's like a cinematic pizza topped with political pepperoni. But let's cut to the chase. Is it really about saving the kids, or is it just another front in the political rumble? OUR might sound heroic, but in reality, it's got a rap sheet of dubious claims and murky motives. So, let's unravel this puzzle: Is Sound of Freedom a crusade against child trafficking, or just a tool for conservatives to stick it to their lefty foes? Who knows, maybe the real rescue mission is rescuing the movie from the clutches of conspiracy. But hey, don't let all the chaos kill the vibe. At its core, Sound of Freedom is just an action flick. Explosions, adrenaline, and a good ol' dose of Hollywood escapism—it's like Taken, with a side of culture war. So, can we enjoy a movie without unleashing a political storm? Can we gobble popcorn without swallowing a whole ideology? It’s a cinematic tug of war, and the only winners seem to be confusion and controversy. In the end, whether you're on the left or the right, one thing's for sure: the movies have become a battlefield where ideology and entertainment wage a never-ending war. So, grab your ticket and buckle up—it's gonna be a bumpy ride! 🍿🎬 Read the full article

[dragon-kazansky]

Head in the clouds

Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x Reader

Gender neutral reader

[Masterlist]

[Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

Warnings: The moment you’ve all been waiting for!

The past was supposed to stay in the past, but with Goose and Maverick getting into Top Gun, it would seem that it’s repeating itself. No matter what you do, you can never escape Tom Kazansky.

Word count: 2.8k

Chapter Five - Iceman

♡♡♡

Maverick and Goose sit with their fellows pilots ready for the reviews. Iceman and Slider sit directly behind them. Ice with his shades on, arms leaning against the bar running above the front row. He chews his gum, waiting.

Tom was aware that yesterday some family members of the officers landed. Miramar was to be their home for the next weeks. For the past 24 hours he could not shake the thought of if you had been on that plane or not. Tom had always known that Goose and Carole were very dear people to you. In fact, you had told him all those years ago that they were the only family you had.

He casts his gaze, unknown to everyone as his eyes were hidden, down to Goose. Had you come to be closer to him? They wouldn’t leave you on your own, would they? No. He was sure they wouldn’t He can almost feel his heart race at the thought that you were possibly just on his doorstep.

Would that change anything?

He was full of thoughts.

As expected, Mav’s input on what to do had come across reckless. Even though the MIG was defeated, his example was used as what no to do. Ice smirked as he removed his glasses and sat back. Slider leaned down to whisper something to Maverick.

Pete just stared at Charlie. It was her that blew down his example.

Once they were dismissed, Pete stormed off, needing to get away for a while. He needed some time to himself. The best way to keep his mind focused was to ride fast and dangerously on his bike. Charlie tried to talk to him, following him down the steps, but he revved his engine loud, doing it on purpose to drown out her voice. He sped off on his bike. She followed.

Goose was left behind to head out on his own. He knew Maverick needed some alone time. Nick was just barely out of the building when someone called his name. He turned to find Ice standing there, looking at him.

“What’s up, man?” Goose asked, slightly concerned about what was about to happen.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Sure.”

Ice leads Goose over to the side, out of the way of the main entrance. Ice seems a little.... off. Not quite himself, but Goose doesn’t speak up on it.

“What’s up?” Goose repeats his earlier question.

“I just need to settle something. I can’t stop thinking about it, so I need to get off my chest. Your answer will quiet my thoughts and I can continue without issue.”

“Ice, what is it?” Goose is eager to hear whatever it Ice wants to know.

“Are they here?”

Goose should have known that this was about you. There was something in the way Ice was looking at him that told Goose he needed to know. As much as Goose wanted to look out for you and protect you from being hurt by your past, he also knew it was important to give Ice some closure too.

“If I said yes, what happens then?” Goose asked.

“Nothing. I’ll just know.”

“And if I say no?”

“Nothing. I’m just looking for an answer.”

Goose wasn’t sure if Ice was trying to convince him or himself about that. There was no way Ice would just be happy with knowing if you were here or not. You had been a huge part of Ice’s life and Goose was certain he wouldn’t just let that go.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. They’re here.”

Ice nods and clenches his jaw. His eyes move off to the side. Goose can see the gears turning in his head. Ice nods and then walks away. He doesn’t say anything else as he leaves.

Goose isn’t sure if he did a good thing or not.

The next day comes around and Maverick and Goose have to fly. Goose finds out that Mav spent the night with Charlie after she chased him. She confessed how impressed she was with Maverick’s review, but couldn’t say that in front of everyone. She confessed to having fallen for him.

Goose didn’t need any more details after that.

It was then that Goose opened up to Maverick about his conversation with Ice. Maverick looked at Goose with confusion.

“You told him?”

“He asked me. What was I supposed to do?”

“Not tell him.”

“No offence, Maverick, but if I hadn’t and then he saw them, he would definitely  kick my ass. The only connection he has got to them every day is me, and I think it’s bothering him. I’m a reminder and I don’t want that.”

Mav places a hand on Goose’s shoulder.

“Whatever happens, we look out for Y/N, right?”

“Course we do,” Goose agrees.

They nod and continue onward to their jets. They had a job to do. A job which ended in failure. Though Maverick was complimented on his flying, he was scolded for leaving Hollywood hanging.

This lead to Iceman sharing his opinion in the shower room.

“Maverick, it’s not your flying. It’s your attitude,” Ice says, looking over at him. Maverick wasn’t looking back, he had one leg up on the bench beside Goose, looking up at nothing.

“The enemy’s dangerous, but right now you’re worst than the enemy. You’re dangerous and foolish. You may not like the guys flying with you, they might not like you. Whose side are you on?” Ice asks.

He gets no response. Mav still doesn’t look at him.

Goose catches Iceman’s eye before he leaves. Goose knows Ice didn’t go looking for you after their conversation, otherwise you would have said something.

“At least Viper got Iceman before he got us,” Goose says. “Still got a shot at it.”

“I was stupid. I know better than that. That will never happen again,” Mav tells Goose.

“I know,” Goose says, before he gets up. He faces Maverick. “I know,” he says with a smile. Mav smiles back. Goose leaves.

That night Mav comes to your door. You smile and let him in. You can tell there’s something on his mind. Mav sits on the sofa and lies back. You go and grab him a drink and sit on the floor beside him.

“Talk to me Maverick.”

“Goose and I are in second.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” You ask, gazing at him.

“There’s no prize for second place,” he tells you.

“First place must be pretty darn good then.”

“He is. He’s very good. I’m trying to do better for Goose. but it’s hard. I see an opportunity to do something and I do it, even though it’s not by the book. That’s why I’m second.”

You place your hand on his arm. Mav has pulled out a photo from his wallet. He holds it between his fingers out to you. You pluck the photo from his fingers and turn it over to look at it.

It’s a photo of him and his dad. Pete is only a boy in the photo.

You look up at Pete Mitchell.

“You can do this, Pete. You and Nick together. Who ever this other pilot is, don’t let him get to you. I know you.”

Pete offers you a small smile. Yeah, you do.

“Charlie accepted my offer to come meet you all. Tomorrow at the diner. Sound good?” He asks.

“Sounds perfect. Let me meet the woman who has stolen your heart,” you tease him. Mav just rolls his eyes.

Pete spends the night at your place again. He’s gone when you wake up, but he’s left a note on what time to meet. You smile and prepare for the day. 

When you arrive at the diner, the others are already there. Mav has his arm around a very beautiful woman. You smile as you approach their table. You hold your hand out and she takes it, shaking it. You introduce yourself.

“Charlotte, but you can call me Charlie. I’ve heard so much about you,” she says, smiling. You turn your eyes to Mitchell.

“Have you?” You grin at him.

Pete shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. You laugh as you sit down and Goose goes to order you a drink too.

“It’s nice to finally meet you too, for the record, he talks about you too,” you tell Charlie, smiling. She smiles shyly, blushing at this information. You look at the pair of them. Yeah, they’re cute together.

Where there is a piano, Goose must play. You’ve been at the diner for a while already, but now the party was really starting. Bradley was perched on top of the piano as his father sat at the bench and played loudly, singing even louder.

The words to Great balls of fire were being sung loudly and the rest of you were watching from the table, laughing.

“Maverick will you got fetch him, doesn’t he ever embarrass you?” Carole laughing, elbowing the man beside her. You had since moved seats to sit beside Charlie while Mav sat beside Carole. Charlie had really become a member of the group very quickly and it was nice.

“Goose? Hell no. Well there was the-”

“Admirals daughter,” Carole finished for him. You chuckle softly.

“Oh yes, Penny,” you wiggle your eyebrows over Mav. Charlie just chuckles softly.

“What?”

“He told me all about it,” Carole said. Then he looked at you.

“Goose tells us everything, Mav.” You stick your tongue out at him.

“Does he? Well, that’s great,” Mav says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Carole then confirmed that Goose tells you both about all his romances, digging the hole deeper.

“My angel Goose goes home early for church and you always go home with the hot women,” Carole teases him.

You laugh.

“OK, thank you Carole. I’m going to go embarrass myself with Goose for a while,” Mav says, smiling over to Charlie. 

Maverick goes and stands beside Goose, singing to Bradley and getting the boy to smile. It’s a cute sight.

“I’d love to warn you off about Maverick, but we just love him to death,” Carole says, addressing Charlie. 

You smile as you watch your boys sing their hearts out. 

“You know, I’ve known Pete for a lot of years now, and I’m telling you one thing’s or certain,” Carole goes on, “there are hearts breaking wide open all over the world tonight.”

“Why?” Charlie asks, smiling softly.

“Because unless you are a fool, that boy is off the market,” Carole replies.

You smile as you turn your gaze to Charlie.

“He is one hundred percent in love with you,” you say. Charlie smiles at you. You give her a gentle nudge and turn back to the show.

“Hey Goose, you big stud!” Carole calls out. You grin and your friend’s shenanigans.

“That’s me honey!” Goose calls back.

“Take me to bed or lose be forever!”

“Show me the way home honey,” Goose grins, looking over at her for a moment.

You laugh again, loving every second of this.

“Let’s sing with the family,” Goose says as you three get up and join them. Carole slips into Goose’s lap as Mav throws an arm around Charlie. You stand behind Carole and Goose as you all join in on the singing.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain

Too much love drives a man insane

You broke my will

But what a thrill

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

You all laugh. These are the moments you live for. The mayhem.

On the way out of the diner you assure Maverick that it’s more than OK for him to take Charlie for a ride. You got there on your own, you can make it back OK. You tell Charlie that she’s more than welcome to join you any time. She thanks you and climbs on Mav’s bike. You wave off the Bradshaw’s taking your own leave.

You head home.

It’s dark when you get back. You put on some lights and prepare to make yourself something to drink. You smile as you think about your wonderful afternoon. For a few hours you could pretend everything was normal and you were all just hanging out.

Tomorrow you would wake up knowing your boys were back in their jet and doing more crazy manoeuvres.

Just as you got comfortable and ready to enjoy your evening, there was a knock at the door. You look up with confusion. There was no way Maverick and Charlie had ended their night so early. You were sure they were going to spend another night together.

You get up and make your way to the door.

Everything that happened in the next few seconds was far from what you had expected.

Opening the door reveals a face you were certain you would never see again.

Blue eyes meet yours as he looks up at you, his attention being brought to you when the door opened.

There was no way Tom Kazansky was standing at your door.

It takes a moment for your mind to register what you were seeing. It was definitely him. Blond hair, blue eyes, those goddamn lips you dreamt about for months.

“No.”

You go to shut the door in his face, but he’s quick. He’s strong as he pushes the door back, stopping you from shutting him out. He hears the way your breath hitches when you realise this is a losing battle.

“Please,” he says.

It’s enough. It’s enough to get you to stop fighting him and let him push the door open. You meet his eyes again and everything comes crashing down.

Your perfect day just took a nose dive.

He says your name.

The tears break free.

How could this be happening?

You shake your head and turn your back on him. You walk into your house. He would only fight you with the door if you tried to close it again.

Tom stares at you as you walk away, leaving him on your doorstep.

He had told Goose nothing would happen if he knew you were here or not, but the truth of the matter is he can’t stop himself. The relationship ended on your terms and he never got over it. He dated, sure, but how could he ever settle when he compared everyone to you? His heart never healed from what you had done, so he was never able to let go.

Seeing Goose here at Top Gun just made him think of you. When Goose told him he was still in touch with you, he knew he had to say something. He knew he would have to check in. There was no way he could live knowing you had been at Miramar and he hadn’t come to see you. He had to see you.

You had every right to be upset. You walked away from him. You didn’t want to see him again.

But he needed to see you. He needed to see or himself that you were happy. He needed the closure.

He heard you crying further in the house. Ice took the step and entered your home, closing the door behind him. His eyes find you as you curl in on yourself on the sofa. He stands there, quietly.

“You can’t be here,” he hears you say.

He drops his gaze to the floor.

“Why? Why now?”

He lifts his head back up and locks his gaze back on you. You refuse to meet his eyes, but he can’t blame you for that.

“I had to see you.”

You shake your head.

“No. No you didn’t.”

The gasp you let out startles Ice slightly. He watches you as you look up quickly and then turn to him. You hadn’t had time to think about it until just now. Everything was starting to make a little more sense.

“They didn’t tell me.”

Tom watches you,

“You... You’re in first. You’re their competition. Of course you are. I always knew you were a top pilot. God, I feel so stupid. They didn’t tell me. They knew you were here and they didn’t say anything.”

“Goose told me you were here,” Ice says, not knowing what else to say.

The tears don’t stop.

“The traitor...”

“Listen-”

“No, you listen!” You stand up and you face him. “You get out. You leave. I don’t want to see you again. This is too much. I was supposed to leave you behind and forget about you.”

He says your name.

“No! Go! Get out!” You grab a cushion a throw it at him. “Get out.”

Ice, for the first time since entering your home, begins to crack. His expression falls and he knows coming here was a mistake. He stands there and looks at you for a moment more. Then he turns and he leaves.

He shouldn’t have come here, but he had to. He had to see you.

He’s not sorry he did.

♡♡♡

@lieutenantn - @juniebugg - @shianshian4315 - @midnightdevotion - @sitkafay - @luckyladycreator2 - @mischief-siriusly-managed - @littlebadariell - @constellationscharts - @swisswitchmn - @callsignthirsty - @sarahissilent - @marchingicenotes7 - @kassieesworld - @topgun-imagines -

[mariamariquinha]

Pomegranate (Will ‘Ironhead’ Miller x f! reader)

Summary: Will Miller liked your pomegranate shampoo, and that was the only thing he said for a very long time. 

Word count: 4.9k (I know, take your time because there’s a lot going on here)

Warnings: Bad words, mentions of death, violence, blood, mentions of military service, angst, smut, unprotected p in v sex, shower sex, vaginal fingering and licit drugs. Placed before and after the events of the movie. If I forgot somenthing, let me know!

Author’s Note: I don’t know what happened. It stayed on my Google Docs for days and I just finished in one night. Will Miller deserves good things too; he’s my good boy. 

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

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

Sometimes you would remember specific things. Moments, like fragments of a lifetime ago, when nothing was so fucked up. It made you go well in your career, like Tom Cruise character in Top Gun and shit - having a natural talent for what you did. People even called you Mav, just for the fun of it.

You could recite very clearly your last mission as a military pilot, with the name on the government payroll and all. The messy shit. The unbearable decision to stop because you’ve seen enough. On that day, you saw Santiago Garcia, and of course you could remember the taps he gave in your shoulder. 

His crew was there too, it was some support mission to Delta Force and going back to that damn base in the middle of the African desert was a relief. Francisco said he could do the work when he saw the blood in your uniform; Tom asked how it goes; Benny, God bless him, made an effort to check on you for so long that you yelled.

“That’s not my fucking blood, Benjamin!” 

And usually you were good at compartmentalizing your feelings, as it should, but your hands were shaking and your mind was spinning. 

Ironhead watched you at a distance, later that day when they made you sit on a stretcher because your body was full of adrenaline enough to not feel a cut on your leg. He was standing in the middle of the base, listening to Redfly talking about something. You were looking down, but you felt the stare and the two of you looked at each other like that, between dust and a tent, saying things without words.

That day, you both didn’t talk until it felt appropriate - not that your thing was a secret, but no one ever commented on it, mostly because Will was too imprudent back then to care. Still, he waited until you all got back to the base in Djibouti, when the reports had been made and the superiors heard about the complicated situation which almost killed you. 

The news of your departure was discreet; Benny knew first, after all, he already recognized his intentions before the mission in Africa. So it would be a matter of time before Will heard about it, which sparked a meeting. 

“When were you going to tell me?”

You jumped at the sound of his voice in the silence of the bathroom. He was standing in the doorway with a stern expression, not minding your nudity or the fact that you’re taking a well deserved shower. Well, that was something they'd both gotten over anyway.

“Tell you what?” The question made him scoff, a incredulous smile accompanying the irritated expression he had. 

His silence made you stare at the wall in front of you with too many thoughts in your head. That… difficult feelings bubbling in full swing, the idea of a confrontation that you tried to bury as much as you could right there, in front of you, simply… happening. 

“Are you mad?”

“That depends.” Will started to walk in your direction. “I should?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why.”

“Because you keep pressing me, Will, you…” When you turned around, he was already close enough to tower over your body, not caring for the shower wetting his clothes. “You keep making me feel stupid, asking questions when you should be the one giving me the answers.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t believe it.”

Going back to that moment now, you were pretty sure that this memory stayed vividly in your mind because he was such an attractive man. The moonlight coming from the small windows batted on his face carefully, bringing out all the beautiful details of his expression and the blue eyes he had. 

Huh, what a wonderful moment. 

It was the peak of what you felt for him, because you should be mad at him, just as he should be at you, but the proximity made all of this not necessary. 

“Are you using that shampoo?” He asked with a murmur, his fingers already brushing your damp hair and making you shiver. 

“Pomegranate, yeah.”

“Such a spoiled girl…” 

“Don’t change the subject, Miller.”

“You’re naked in front of me, I can’t help it.” 

“It was your decision.” You turned your face away from his attempt to kiss you. “Unless you want to give me a goodbye, because then I’ll suggest you to wait considering my leg…”

To hell the shower, especially when he leaned in to connect your lips in a heated kiss, pressing his fingers firmly into the skin of your waist. Even in the greatest brutality of his personality, for the first time in months, he manhandled you with care to lean your body against the wall, using all the eagerness of his intentions to invade your mouth with his tongue. 

“Thinking you would go away like that? Mm?” He pressed his clothed crotch in your body, which made you moan lowly. “Thinking you would… leave without feeling me stretching this tight cunt of yours senseless?” 

“Will…”

“You want your answers, yeah? I’ll give it to you.”

Will was huge - oh boy, he was. Even in his intense lust mood, he took care to prepare you for him, fingering your pussy enough to put you on the edge for receiving the best part. The first thrust made you gasp, and he used this vulnerability to hold your chin to look straight at him. 

“I don’t want you to leave… I… I want you with me. Here, in another fucking whole in the middle of nowhere… With me.”

He didn’t move, passing his hand gently on your injured leg while holding the other to fix himself in you, closing his eyes for a moment, as if taking you in with deep breaths.

“Then go with me. Let’s do it together.” You caressed the back of his head. “I want to be with you too.”

“Yeah, I know. Your eyes can’t lie to me, not anymore, not when I…”

Whatever he wanted to say, it never came, and maybe it hurted more than if he used the words precisely. That night, you both fucked with small pants, grunts and moans, feeling each other without the necessity of talking too much. 

At the end, Will’s decision to stay wasn’t announced, but he didn’t ask why you wouldn’t tell him your personal reasons either. Sounded fair. When you cried on his shoulder with his seed leaking on your thighs, he just held you close to him, the tears dissipating in the water. 

Already in the car which would take you to the airport, Benny was the one hugging you, saying to keep in touch, giving small advice to heal your leg. He didn’t mention his brother, you also didn’t ask, so you understood that Will would be a distant memory for your new life - an eventual reminder of the good parts of enlisting in the first place. 

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

Tom dying caught you by surprise, as if it just didn’t make sense considering the circumstances. Not that you both had an amazing relationship, per se, but still… It’s not something you want for someone, principally if this said person stayed out of this type of shit for so long.

You’ve heard about it in Panama, during a two-week mission, you could remember that too. Tania, a fellow friend who offered the job, ended up doing the difficult task of going back to the States and giving condolences. She told you later that Benny understood your absence, but Will asked if you’re okay. 

“And how is he?” 

Tania shrugged, puffing cigarette smoke from her lungs.

“Worried.” She looked at you then. “Maybe he’s not ready to lose another dear friend.”

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

There weren’t many schools in Miami which offered Portuguese lessons, at least not with such a specific target, but it happened because your mother was a teacher there, so the transition looked easy. If she put her efforts to guarantee you would stay still in Florida, you couldn’t tell, but there was a spark in her eyes when the principal of a technical school offered a class for periodic classes. 

His name was Roy - you wouldn’t forget him mentioning a Die Hard line during your interview. 

When Tania called later, three days after you arriving definitely on your new apartment in Sunny Isles and asking why she found a “For Sale” in your house at Kingston, you sighed, abandoning that new chair from IKEA to talk in privacy; in other words, away from your mother comments about her. 

“I’m in Florida now.” 

“What? Florida? Why didn't you tell me?”

“I did, Tania, three months ago. And I’ve been repeating it since then.”

She gave a little ‘huh’.

“I need to stop drinking.”

“Agreed.”

The conversation was easy, even if it was fast and determined, because you needed to repeat all of the other things you’ve already said time and time again. In the end, the idea settled for real in her mind.

“Just don’t go work with Pope, yeah? He would call me just for the fun of it.”

“I’m out for good, Tania. This… I can’t do it. That’s why I left the Army in the first place, so.”

“No, no, you’re totally right and I’m happy for you.” She paused. “Listen, if you ever find Santiago or one of his guys…”

“Okay, no work with them.”

“Good to know you’re listening to me.”

When your mother asked later if you would see them again, you frowned at her.

“You listened?”

“Your friend isn't that subtle about the tone of her voice.”

“... I see.” You bit a piece of bread, but didn’t answer her first question right away because this idea never occured to you. “But no.”

“Why not?”

“Because now that Tania knows, it will be a question of time, so… I just need to wait.”

It happened. Took Santiago two weeks to probably call Tania for another one of their agreements about a job, and maybe one of them did enough research to find the school you’ve been working at. 

“Let's recap the inflection part of the articles, shall we?” You put both hands on your pockets, standing in front of the class with nothing more than ten adult students. “In Portuguese, they precede a noun, being variable in gender and in number. It also…”

He entered discreetly, grinning while looking at you and grabbing your full attention for a few seconds - when the students turned their heads for him too, you got back to the explanation. Even sitting on the corner, you still could see the guy with your peripheral vision the whole time.

“You’re pretty good at it.” He got closer when the class left, just the sound of your fingers organizing the papers on the table. 

“Yes.” You raised your head to take him in. “And you’re older.”

“Some people would take it as a compliment.”

“I’m sure you took it as one.” Going back to the papers, you saw that he didn’t push a chair or tried to get any more comfortable there. “What are you doing here? Never thought about you being a bible seller or something.”

“Says the one wearing blouses and tailored pants.”

The sigh you left made him grin more vividly and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at it.

“Tania made me promise to not work with you.”

“I know, that’s not why I’m here.” You frowned at it, which made him pinch the bridge of his nose and look to the side. “Coffee?”

You considered the proposition with narrowed eyes.

“It’s on you.”

He didn’t even touch his cup while explaining his reasons - that he was literally just passing by when he remembered the place you’ve been working and wanted to talk. Not about the job, you noticed, because his topics were light like two friends catching up on the news. 

When you told about your nomad life, he raised his eyebrows.

“Three months in Guatemala, six in a bungalow closer to Puntarenas, another five at a small apartment in Brazil and a year in Jamaica… That’s a lot.”

“Enough, at least. Everyone needs to stop someday.”

Pope decided to not answer that, so you sipped on your coffee and looked through the window. 

“First it was my father, you know? He got sick and I needed to leave to take care of him. Took me almost five years to keep everything established for my mother, at least to be able to do this.”

“Tania can be kinda tough with her jobs.” He said in a condescending tone.

“Well, at least now I can have my own bedroom. Looks like I’m a grown up now, huh? My therapist would be so proud.”

“Are you going anymore?” The question made you shrug while grabbing a small cookie from the plate in front of you both.

“Now and then. Got better with time, so…” You didn’t elaborate. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you look relaxed. Stopping for a talk with a friend and all, just a good therapist could do that.”

Santiago smiled again, this time more aware of his exposition - at least enough to play with the tablecloth to consider your question. Odd.

“... After Tom, I tried to keep it low. It’s always easy but as you said, it’s getting better.” You wanted to say you’re sorry, give some positive advice, but deep down you knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it. “But guess what, Miller referred me to a great professional, if you need.”

“Benny can be friends with everyone, right?”

“No, not Benny. Ironhead.”

For some reason, you got quiet, the cup which was close to your mouth now hiding your pursed lips. Ironhead… Being a help hand really sounded like him. Maybe he was with another hairstyle? Maybe…

“He’s good, you know.”

“What?” You blinked at Santiago, who just scoffed.

“Will.”

“Mm.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“... No.”

“You should.”

“Santiago…”

“No, no, I’m just being honest, okay? Talking as a friend.” He sipped his coffee. “I told him you’re here in Florida.” 

“You did.”

“Mm-hm.” Another grin, this time more malicious. “And he’s single.”

“Oh, right, fine. Good to know.” The sarcastic tone of your voice was perceptible. 

“No pressure, Mav. But take a look at you now, yeah? Things are different. You two are different. And don’t mind me saying but… You didn’t age a year.”

“God…”

“I’m serious! Listen, Benny will have a fight on Saturday, go watch or - no, we can drink something. All of us, beers, talk about life… Like the old times. The good part.”

“The good part…” You smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

“So it’s a ‘yes’”.

“It’s a maybe.”

“Better than nothing, then. I’ll pass the address and the time.”

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

It was a bad idea.

No, it was a terrible one.

You looked at yourself in the reflection of a car window, taking in the jeans shorts and shirt. Maybe these sneakers made it worse.

The sound of a group of people stumbling out of the bar startled you; enough to make you take a deep breath and go on anyway. It’s not that bad, right? It’s the guys, people who saw the worst and the best side-by-side, friends from work…

“Maverick!”

Benny opened his arms, involving your body in a bear hug before you could have a chance to be aware of your surroundings, and it made you smile in surprise and happiness. 

“Tell me you won at least, would you?”

“With difficulty.” Francisco’ voice made you look behind Benny, just to find the man pursing his lips. 

“Okay, he almost got me, but I’m alright now.”

“Maybe work on your left side, looks like it’s still your weakness.” You raised a hand to grab his chin, taking a good look at a cut on his eyebrow. 

“And looks like you’re still being a pain in the ass.” He teased, pinching your arm lightly. 

“I’ll always be, Miller, never forget.”

Just like Santiago, everyone was older, but aging like fucking fine wine. And not even a year passed during the small talk you all had, as if nothing never happened at all. 

But of course, someone was missing. 

“Will is in the restroom.” Benny said nonchalantly, bumping his shoulder on yours in a playful act. “Maybe chickening out by seeing his old crush.”

“Benny!” Fish was the one to complain.

“Am I lying? Pope said we would…”

“What would we do?”

Of course he wouldn’t look the same - of course he needed to look better. 

Firstly, Will stayed with a frown on his face, looking directly to his brother to know what was the fuss about, but then he turned his head to you and got completely serious. Santiago nudged Francisco with his elbow. Benny sipped on his beer with a proud smile. You… You just stared back at Will. 

The beard was new, at least from what you remembered, but it wasn’t bad because the Millers would be attractive anyway. 

“Hi.” You said to break the ice, and he blinked a few times before clearing his throat.

“Hey, Mav… I… It’s been a long time.”

“We invited her for some good old drinks with friends, after all our Maverick is back to stay.” Pope mentioned, making Will turn to him with a frown. “I told you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah you did.”

A heavy silence hovered in the air, which made you understand that not everyone was aware of that encounter. 

“What do you drink, Mav? The same?” Benny raised from his seat beside you, a hand on your shoulder to distract your evident embarrassment. 

“... You remember?”

“Landing in Cuba with an airlift in Missouri. Of course I remember.” 

He left in time for Will to take his place in front of you, obviously uncomfortable. 

“What is this thing? Cuba and Missouri?” Fish tried to break the ice again, leaning on the table with curiosity.

“Yes, we used to do this a long time ago. Cuba is for cuba libre, the first drink of the night, and Missouri is Budweiser, the last drink.” 

“Sounds creative.”

“It’s a way to keep good memories.”

Benny would tell later that Santiago planned all of that without telling Will and maybe it was the reason why he stayed so quiet during the first half of the conversation, now and then nodding at something they would say, just to share a look with you. His fingers were fumbling with his beer bottle; when you noticed that, a sense of comfort made you understand the situation better.

Will was nervous. 

Go play pool, you sent to Santiago by text. 

What? 

Just do it.

You thought for a beat before explaining more.

He’s nervous. 

Santi raised his head from the cell phone just to confirm what you’re saying, so when Fish mentioned something about grabbing another round and Benny accompanying Pope on a game, you sighed in relief. 

“Sorry for this.”

“It’s okay.” You reassured him. “I would be mad if someone did that to me.”

“What? No, I’m not mad, just… Maybe I've thought too much about it and they got tired. Sorry.”

Always the cute one, you thought, smiling at him and getting the man to do the same for the first time since your arrival. What a good view.

“Pope told me you’re a teacher now.” 

“Teacher is a strong word, I’m just with some extra Portuguese classes for adults, since I can't teach without a license.” 

“Looks like a teacher to me.”

“Depends.” You shrugged. “The part about putting students in timeout doesn't exist, which is pretty annoying.”

Will could shine so bright with his laugh, it usually changed his whole face naturally, bringing a new side of him you couldn’t see much in the function of your job. Weird. That made you frown. You didn’t remember the last time you cared about making someone laugh. 

“What?” He asked.

“What?” 

“You’re overthinking.”

“... I’m not.”

“You always do that thing when you’re overthinking.”

“What thing?”

“This… frown you had on your face, right here.” Will pointed at his own forehead, doing invisible circles in the air with his finger. “And sometimes you bite your lip.”

Goddammit, is that right?

“See? Again.”

When the tip of that same finger touched your glabella, the giggle which left your mouth would be pretty embarrassing if one of the guys was still there; and the stare he gave to your hand when you grabbed his wrist too. To say your cheeks were hot with that was a statement, for sure. 

You let his arm go, but he eventually brushed his fingers on yours before fully retrieving the hand. 

“It’s good to see you again. After all this time, things were messing up… Feels amazing to find a familiar face.”

“Benny would be offended by it.” 

“I don’t think so. He knows he’s not you.” 

Being really honest, one of the biggest problems you’ve had with Will was how he never said anything. You fell for him, that’s for sure, but when it started to have a weight on your shoulders, plus with the shit happening with your father, you stopped wondering if he ever had this same connection. It was a constant war, after all, and you were young to not ask too many questions back then. 

The death of your father was the confirmation you needed; the card the "Miller family" sent you after that just added one last shovel of dirt to that fleeting relationship; his engagement… Well, it was obvious that the best thing you should do was forget. 

But then Will was there again, giving you the puppy eyes, showing the golden strands of his soft hair and the warmth, already forgotten in some part of your good memory, came back, as if a second round with an explicit sign of affection. 

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked, already draining the last of your beer. 

He just smiled at it, already getting up from the table. When you both got closer to the bar counter to pay for your drinks (with him paying yours with a lot of insistence), you could see Benny giving you both a thumbs up, but it didn’t last long because Will held your hand on that moment. 

“Think we need to say something to them?”

“It can wait.”

“Wait what?”

“Us.”

No, the ride back to your house wasn’t a blur, he made sure of it. You both got in his car calmly, with all the time in the world, choosing a good radio station because Benny stole his pendrive with good music. 

“Radiohead are not that good.” You teased while passing the stations. 

“This is the moment you apologize.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Captain, but that’s not gonna happen.”

“God, it explains why Benny likes you so much.”

Everything passed by in slow motion; the streets, the lights, the beach, like all the stolen moments you’ve had together conditioned in a period of peace, just the discreet sound of Fleetwood Mac and the breeze filling the space. It was something you craved once - something you confessed after dinner on the base, drinking soda and listening to the sounds of that calm night. 

“It’s a good place.”

“Please, don’t say that.” You said, already taking off your shoes by the door. 

“Why not? It is.”

“That sofa has a giant stain of something very dubious and so I asked the estate agent what it was and he…”

Will kissed you softly, a hand bringing you closer by the small of your back while the other stayed on the side of your neck. He didn’t try to deepen it right away, just moving his lips in sync with yours to really taste you slowly. When you both separated for air, your hands were holding his chest. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t wait.”

“Will you keep saying that all night?”

“As many times as necessary.”

You raised a hand, touching his face and watching the way he closed his eyes at the sensation. 

“Make love to me, Will.” The whisper made him open his eyes. “Show me what we missed all this time, what we never had the opportunity to do.”

The next kiss was more fierce, full of passion but controlled by a singular moment of bliss. His tongue cautiously invaded your mouth, massaging, taking everything he could as a starved man. You closed your eyes with a sigh when he started to trail kisses on your neck, leaving small love bites on your chin and throat while holding you firmly against him. 

“Bed.” With the pleading warning, he just nodded and used both arms to raise you from your feet, his fingers buried on the meat of your tights to make you hold him between your legs.

A small gasp escaped you. 

“To the right, first door.”

Being so busy with the kisses you started to put on his neck, you just felt the mattress on your back when Will distanced himself to take his shirt off, and you needed to lean on your elbows to see that small show before making an effort to do the same. 

“Look at you, baby… Remember when I used to mark these perfect titties of yours? Always so… delicious.” He leaned in enough to grab handfuls of them, massaging your hardened nipples over your lacy bra. 

You moaned, pulling him by the belt to stay fully laid on top of you and this time, your kiss had nothing to do with decent feelings. It was sloppy, a lot of hands taking pieces of clothes off and mapping each other’s bodies. He wandered on the valley of your breasts, then your belly, thighs and ass, making you feel his hardened cock through his boxers. You, on the other hand, used the chance while he started to suck and kiss your breasts to hold his hair, tighten his back muscles and nibble on his ear, which made you listen to a grunt from him.

“Needed you so fucking much, Will. Missed you all this time.” 

“I’m here now, my love. I’ll take care of you.”

My love. What a delight for sore ears. 

And what a delight for sore eyes, seeing him redirecting his fingers to your pussy just to catch your wetness and bring it to his mouth. 

“There will be time for me to taste that pussy, yeah? What do you want? Huh? My cock is so fucking hard… Say you want me to fuck you, baby, tell me.”

“Yes… Yes, I want it. Please.”

He obliged with a moan of his, taking his boxers off in a beat before repositioning you both on the bed for a better position, with you on top while he sat with his back on the headboard. You understood his intentions right away, using the advantage to pass the head of his thick and leaking cock on your clit before sinking on it so easily. 

“G-God, Will, you fill me so well.”

“We’ve been here before, baby.” He pulled some strands of your hair, the way you started to rock your hips with his doing a small mess of it. “Meant to be, I should have known it.”

Before he could say something else, you kissed him again, feeling his dick stretching your walls and hitting that spot over and over again. When your movements started to get lazy just like his and the pleasure became too much, Will did that again: he hugged you, burying his face on your chest. 

This time, though, you didn’t cry - at least not in a sad way. 

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

“You still use that shampoo.” He mumbled above you, kissing the top of your head. 

“They don’t have it in Jamaica, needed to use another one made with passion fruit or something.” The answer made him giggle and your head shake in the place that was resting on his chest. 

“I prefer pomegranate.”

“Me too.”

You both stayed quiet for a moment, tired because of the other two orgasms which came during that comeback, but no one wanted to sleep just yet. The breeze coming from the window was good, eliciting good shivers down your spine. 

“I tried to call back then,” His voice was more firm this time. “When your father died.”

This confession frozen you in place, as if you’re absorbing it. 

“Yeah?” You raised your head, leaning on one elbow to look down at him. 

“Mm-hm.” Will nodded. “But I knew that it wouldn’t change things and… I think I was a coward.”

“About what?”

He turned his head to the side, which made you grab his chin to look at you again. 

“Tell me.”

“My feelings for you.”

You both stared at each other in complete silence. In a beat, you noticed that expression you did while overthinking, and he smiled at it.

“That night when you told me I made you feel stupid, I wanted to be able to tell you right away, to say ‘fuck it’ and go back to States with you, start a new life, use that engagement finger on you.” He started to trace patterns on your arm. “It hurted to let you go like that, dealing with the shit of the world when I could be there.”

“... You…” Your voice failed. “Will, you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that?”

“I know. In fact, I understand if you decide to push me away and…”

“No, of course not.” There was a small smile on your face. “I love you, Miller. Always did and always will.”

He gripped your arm more firmly, suppressing another grin at your confession. 

“I’ll take it as a yes.”

“Take it as the truth.”

You both shared a soft kiss, him holding the back of your neck and connecting your foreheads.

“I love you too, Mav.”

[ratquesadilla]

3005 (chapter 2)

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x fem! mitchell! oc

word count: 2106

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41505768/chapters/105225681

“it’s an existential thing”

a story where the return of north island's resident player leaves a girl with a lot of influence in a predicament.

trigger warning for harassment and a little bit of violence in this chapter.

chapter 1 - series masterlist - full masterlist

----

when i was younger we would go to church every sunday. it wasn’t because we were religious or anything but carole thought it was good idea to force me and bradley to make friends. afterwards we would have brunch with the kazanskys and, depending on our behavior that day, bradley and i would get to pick out something sweet from the store before returning home. after she died i stopped going, but my sunday routine would stay relatively the same. instead of going to the store for a candy bar, i would go to the bakery for something sweet. church started at 10, but sarah liked being early so she arrived at 9:30, and ended at 11 so i had an hour and a half to drop off the contraband treats at iceman's house. 

tom was like my dad when i was growing up. i didn’t have maverick and bradley didn’t have goose so he was there to teach us everything we needed to know. when i was 13 he taught me how to play football, and when i was 16 he let me play with the navy boys. when i was 15 and carole was too scared to get in the car with a “reckless teenager”, he taught me and bradley how to drive. everyone knew he didn’t have much time left, but a lot of us were in denial. i saw how much pain carole was in during her last weeks, and i wouldn’t wish that on anyone else, so i was trying my best to make iceman’s final moments semi-enjoyable. 

when i arrived he was in his office. he was too weak and in too much pain to deal with anyone so he handed me an envelope and motioned towards his computer. “deliver this before please, it’s important” on the monitor. the words “captain pete “maverick” mitchell” were written on the front, each letter with a slight shake.

----

business around the base always slowed down around sundown. day shift contractors switching with their night shift counterparts, everyone else getting ready to go home, the heat radiating off of the planes distorting the sunset. i figured the top gun pilots would be debriefing so i headed towards cyclone’s office. 

“mitchell.” he said as i entered the room. he sounded annoyed, and he had the pissed off old man eyebrow thing going on. 

“cyclone.” i replied, trying not to smile. i respected authority but it was always funny to see him get all worked up. i was definitely mavericks daughter, no doubt about it. sassiness was in my dna. “i just wanted to pop in before i delivered this to maverick” i said while pulling the letter out of my bag.

“how’s iceman?” he asked.

“could be better, he’s trying his best.” cyclone nodded, silently acknowledging me. both of us knew he didn’t have much time left, and both of us knew without iceman there was no one to keep my father in the navy. “this is urgent so i’ve got to go, but it was good seeing you.” i said as i quickly left the room. i respected cyclone, but i couldn’t agree with his distaste for maverick. being around him too long always lead to us getting into an argument about one of pete’s rash decisions. 

i was used to the stares from top gun pilots whenever i visited the base. tom frequently had me deliver documents and other things from his house and the attention was fun. i never got involved with the navymen, though it was fun to see how far they would go to get me to notice them, but this time was different. the blonde “cowboy” from the night before had been in my brain for the last 24 hours. something about him drew me towards him. like how the moon was drawn towards earth. 

when i arrived at the hanger they were meeting in the debriefing was nearly over. stepping into the “room” (if you could even call an open hanger a room) i could feel the tension between my father and bradley. i could also feel a pair of blue eyes drilling holes into the back of my head as i walked towards the makeshift platform maverick was on. “that’s all for now, you are dismissed.” he said, mouth slowly shifting into a smile as he saw me. 

“dad!” i squealed, running to hug him.

“mallory!” he replied, lifting me up and spinning around. “you’re so big now.”

“god i’m not a teenager anymore.” i joked. “i haven't grown since i was like 16.”

“i’ll never get used to you being old.”

“you’re the old one, grandpa.” i said as my father dramatically clutched his chest.

“am i really that old” he cried out, pretending to break down in tears. time could change a lot, but it would never stop pete from his theatrics. we quickly caught up and i handed him ice’s letter. our conversation was cut short by him remembering the overdraft from the other night, and he quickly left to pay his long overdue tab. as i stood there i flirted with the idea of visiting the blonde pilot and the rest of the aviators in the ready room. 

is it worth it? i thought. i knew how navymen could be, especially pilots. i couldn’t put myself through months of no contact, which was only one of the worries that came with being with an active duty pilot. i must’ve taken too long thinking because by the time i got to the game room everyone was gone. boys are a headache.

the secret teenage girl in me must have taken over because i somehow ended up at the hard deck, for something other than work this time. i walked into the bar, the cloud of sweat and desperation immediately hitting me, and began walking towards the pool table. that corner of the bar was usually frequented by regulars instead of the top gun pilots that were currently inhabiting the area. Natasha was the first person to notice me. 

i met her years ago when Bradley was at top gun. i was finished with college so i was back at home taking care of carole. she wanted me to leave southern california, earn a bunch of money and be successful, but nothing could keep me from north island. it was my home, and nothing could change that. maybe i was so attached to the island because it was the one place i knew my father would always be able to return, we’ll never know. it didn’t matter if i didn’t know where he was, he knew i was here. 

Phoenix shouted my name as she ran to hug me. “oh my god it’s so good to see you!” i exclaimed. “it’s been forever.”

“last time i was here you were blonde.” she remarked, “and you had a boyfriend.”

“well i grew out the blonde, and we broke up a couple years back.” i replied.

“called it!” she shouted, reaching her hand behind her head to grab money from bradley. “no one in a relationship would be in a bar, alone, with a bunch of pilots on a sunday of all days.”

“you guys bet on me!?” 

“hell yeah we did. i knew that guy was bad news the moment i met him, i caught a vibe.”

“remind me to have you meet all of my future boyfriends, i need to see if your bad news detector is accurate.”

“oh it’s accurate all right, the girl bagman used to be with ended up being totally insane. i knew it from the beginning.” 

“bagman? what’s the story behind that one.” i questioned. my mention of him must have caught his attention because there was suddenly a very tall (very captivating) pilot eyeing us from across the pool table. 

“it’s hangman actually, and you can find out the story if you give me a chance. what d’ya say? save a horse ride a cowboy?” his southern accent coming out, especially during that last sentence. normally lines like that would leave me repulsed, but there was something about the pilot that made his stupid pickup lines work. his shit eating grin was quickly wiped off his face by Bradley “accidentally” hitting him in the hip with the cue in his hands. 

“next time you try to get with mal you should remember who she’s related too, bagman.” bradley spat out. he was obviously annoyed. my father was probably the source of that annoyance but i wasn’t here to play therapist. i wasn’t really sure why i was here, but listening to bradley complain about my dad wasn’t the reason. 

“oh i can handle maverick, what’s he gonna do? make me do extra push up’s because i’m an incredible pilot?” hangman shot back, cockiness oozing out of him as if he was a slug. 

“my father is the least of your problems. unless you’re totally confident that you can face uncle tom.” i joked. it didn’t matter how cocky he was, none of my boyfriends made it past iceman. hearing i was related to tom kazansky was like a punch in the gut for any aviator that tried to get my number, but hangman was doing surprisingly well at keeping his defeat hidden. “i’m heading to the bar does anyone want anything?”, the pilots all responded with various head shakes and no’s. i pulled up to the bar and ordered a vodka cran, feeling a pressure against my lower back.

“hey baby, i saw you walk in earlier. can i buy you a drink?” the mysterious man asked.

“no thanks, i’m not interested.” i replied, pushing his hand off of my back.

“what’s wrong? don’t you like me? i saw the way you were looking at me when you came in.” he said while grabbing my wrist. 

“whatever you thought you saw was bullshit, now leave me alone.” i tried to release myself from his grip, to which he retaliated by squeezing even harder. “i’m asking you nicely, please let go of me.”

“why would i let go? i bet you like this huh.”

“totally love it. do you do this to every girl you try to take home? harass them until they give in and go home with you?” 

“god why do you have to be such a bitch.” he complained. letting go of my wrist to take a sip of his beer. 

“i prefer the term army brat, dick.” i spat at him, stomping on his foot with my heel. my sudden attack startled him giving me a chance to get up from the bar and head towards the exit. oh my god how fucking hard is it to be decent, i thought. as soon as i was outside i ran for my car, fumbling with my bag to try and find my keys. why is there so much shit in here? everytime i thought i found it i just pulled out a lip gloss or a hair tie. anything but my keys. i was freaking out, plain and simple.

“you know if you were a little nicer maybe you’d have a boyfriend!” the creep shouted, hobbling out of the bar. “maybe that’s why you’re a bitter cunt! cause you can’t get fucking laid!”

“fuck.” i whispered. he was getting very close, very fast. “you really don’t wanna do this” i tried to sound assertive but i was fucking terrified. 

“what’re you gonna do? slap me?”

“next time, maybe don’t use your shitty moves on a girl from north island.” i said, kneeing the creep in the balls. “that’s for ruining my night.” he bent over, grabbing his crotch. looking up for a split second before i punched him in the face. “and that’s for putting your hands on me.” i reached into my pocket, finally finding my keys. 

“that was badass.” hangman shouted from the side of the parking lot, walking towards me. “you gotta teach me some of your moves sometime.”

“how much of that did you see?” i shouted back.

“enough.”

“i’m not doing this tonight bagman, i’m tired and i’ve sworn off navymen.”

“it’s jake.” he was 2 feet away at this point, and still getting closer. “jake seresin.”

“well,” i paused, “jake.” he was very very close now. “you can get my number when you prove you deserve it.” closing the gap between us and pulling him into a kiss. 

“i can do that, yeah” he whispered as i pulled away. i could feel his stare lingering as i got into my car. 

“goodnight jake. i’m looking forward to seeing you soon.”

[soft--dragon]

Soft Boy

Based off of this prompt here 

Word Count: 1,750

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don't like that then don't read :)

I hope you like this hun! ^^

Wilbur wasn't really sure what would happen when Tommy came to visit him for the weekend. But it wasn't really this.

The boy was spinning in his desk chair, stretched back and arms crossed behind his head. Wilbur sat on the bed across from it, trying to finish some lyrics for his upcoming song. Tommy had been adamantly trying to guess what it was about for almost a full half hour. Wilbur had been trying to keep the song away from Tommy's prying eyes to keep it a surprise, but the boy was incredibly persistent about knowing about it.

"Wilbur" Tommy whined for the hundredth time, slumping back further into the chair somehow. "Can you please just let me read the lyrics already?"

"Tommy, I told you before, it's not happening" Wilbur rolled his eyes, writing down a few possible notes for a specific sequence of the song. "Now be quiet child."

Tommy stopped in his constant turning in the chair, glaring at Wilbur though his head spun. "Prick" he grumbled.

Wilbur sighed. "Tommy, I want you to be able to hear the song when it's actually ready and sounds good."

Tommy gave him a confused frown. "But your music always sounds good?"

Wilbur pursed his lips together to stop a sappy smile forming, desperately trying to ignore the warmth in his chest from the younger's words. "That's from weeks of work."

"You wrote this in a few days though?"

"It's a draft Tommy."

"And you need someone to proofread it to give you feedback! I can do that!" Tommy's eyes lit up.

"Tommy" Wilbur pressed his pencil to his forehead, releasing an exasperated but fond sigh. "Give it a rest won't you?"

Tommy crossed his arms with a huff, slumping into the chair and pouting. There was silence for a moment, the only sound being Wilbur's pencil scratching against the paper then…

"Philza Minecraft wouldn't treat me like this."

"Tommy!" Wilbur threw up his hands, laughing. "Jesus christ man!"

Tommy was smirking from where he was half slouched down the chair, watching Wilbur intensely. "I'm not wrong."

"Phil doesn't write music!"

"If he did it would be awesome." Tommy then put on his best puppy eyes, pulling out the big guns of acting cute. "Please Wilby? At least let me know how the melody goes?"

Wilbur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, okay you know what? Fine."

He set the paper down and stood, approaching Tommy who blinked up at him, surprised that had actually worked.

"Wha-"

Wilbur set his hands down on the armrests and loomed over Tommy menacingly. "You really want to hear the music?"

"I-I mean...yeah, but I was messing around Wil, you don't actually have to show me it if you don't want to."

Wilbur felt himself soften a little at his little brother's sincere words but he quickly reestablished his intimidating image. "No no, you wanted it, and who am I to refuse my little brother?"

Tommy flushed a little, an embarrassed smile lifting his lips. "Shut up…" he mumbled, trying to hide how much joy Wilbur's words brought him. "Just sing the dumb song."

"Oh I'm not singing it, you are."

Confusion flickered over Tommy's face as he lifted his head to look at Wilbur. "Huh? How am I meant to sing it if I don't even know how it goes?"

Wilbur smirked and then without warning he dug into Tommy's sides.

Tommy's eyes bugged out as he was immediately thrown into laughter. "WAHAHahait! Whahahat thahahe fuhuhuhuck Wilbuhuhur?!"

Wilbur placed fast pokes along Tommy's sides, chuckling when the boy twisted away the best he could trapped in the gaming chair.

Tommy shoved at Wilbur's shoulders, eyes squeezing shut. "Stohohop ihihit Wihihil!"

"You wanted to know what the music was Toms, I'm showing you!" Wilbur grinned. "See I'm planning on doing a piano part specifically for the chorus, let me play it for you."

Wilbur scribbling his fingers quickly along the sides of Tommy's ribs. Tommy squeaked and fell back against the chair, squirming left and right for relief from the tormenting fingers.

"Wihihihihil!"

"No no, it's pitched a bit higher than that, hang on, lemme see if I can get the right note" Wilbur gently rubbed the top bones of Tommy's ribs.

"FUHUHUHUCK!" Tommy squealed, trying to shove the hands away from the horribly ticklish area.

Wilbur's eyes lit up. "There it is! That's the note Toms!"

"Shuhut uhuhup yohohou prihihick!" Tommy squeaked, face flushing pinker and legs kicking against the floor.

Wilbur chuckled fondly, smiling down at his baby brother. "Try to hold that pitch for a bit, it stays like that for about fifteen seconds, I'll give you a hand."

Wilbur's fingers scribbled against the tops of Tommy's ribs again, scratching gently close to his underarms. Tommy squealed through his honey sweet giggles, trying to squirm lower in the chair in hopes to evade the maddening sensations.

"Nononohohoho! Wihihihihil plehehease!"

"Hasn't been fifteen seconds yet Toms! You gotta hold that note for fifteen seconds, it's how the song goes" Wilbur clicked his tongue, fingers prodding around the bones lightly.

Tommy shoved at Wilbur's shoulders with shaking hands, laughter still tumbling out of him. "Fuhuhucking- NOHOHO!"

Wilbur's hands had slipped into Tommy's armpits, spidering along the sensitive skin with precise ticklish touches.

"Atta boy Toms, the notes do go a bit higher there, but then they drop again, mind lowering your pitch please?" Wilbur smirked, shifting his fingers down to Tommy's stomach and wiggling at the sides of his navel.

Tommy twisted at the change of spots, hiccups starting to pepper in between his rich laughter. "N-Nohoho Wihihlby! Nohot thehehere-" Tommy squeaked, trying to push Wilbur's fingers from his sensitive midriff.

Wilbur audibly cooed. "Got a ticklish lil giggle button Tommy boy?"

Tommy flushed, shaking his head as his giggles increased. "Wil-Wilbur dohohon't-"

"Don't what?"

Tommy pressed his head against Wilbur's shoulder, his flustered titters making his shoulders bounce. "Yohohou're beheheing mehehean!"

Wilbur smiled, leaning his head on Tommy's. "Me? Mean? I could never be mean to my little brother."

Tommy pressed his face further into the older's arm, hands gripping his yellow sweater. "Doho yohou really mean it when you cahall me that?"

Wilbur paused his fingers movements, confusion crossing his face. "What?" He asked.

Tommy hesitantly lifted his head from Wilbur's shoulder, hands still holding the fabric of his sweater. "When...when you call me your little brother" he said, a bit timidly. "Do you honestly mean it?"

Wilbur took in Tommy's face. His nervous eyes, his small lip bite, his furrowed brows as he waited for Wilbur's response.

"Toms" Wilbur lifted a hand from Tommy's side to gently cup his cheek. "Of course I mean it, why wouldn't I? I'd never lie to you, you're my Tommy, my little gremlin of a brother. You're the kid that encourages me to get up in the mornings, the kid who understands my sense of humor better than anyone, and the kid who accepted my flaws and loves me unconditionally."

Wilbur smiled, warm and genuine. "Of course you're my brother, no one else could ever do it as well as you do."

Tommy lips parted in awe, rendered speechless for the first time in his life. Wilbur pressed a kiss to the boy's hair, then gently ruffled the fluffy curls.

"I mean it Tommy" he repeated. "Every time I say it."

Tommy swallowed after a second, blinking rapidly then groaned, pressing the back of his hand to his face. "You said it would make you cry when I call you my brother, why is it making me cry when you say it to me?"

Wilbur laughed. "Cause you love me."

"Fuck off" Tommy grumbled but the smile on his face took away the heat.

Wilbur held his hands out to Tommy who took them after a second. Wilbur hauled the boy up and pulled him to his chest, squeezing him gently.

"I love you Tommy" he said quietly. "Need me to say it again?"

Tommy smiled. "No, your whole speech told me that-"

"I love you Tommy" Wilbur repeated, starting to place small kisses in Tommy's hair again. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Tommy shoved at Wilbur's chest, laughing as he tried to duck away from the affection. "You're so embarrassing!"

"I'm not gonna stop until you say it back!" Wilbur crowed, grinning ear to ear now.

"Fuck off!"

"Say it!" Wilbur wiggled his fingers against Tommy's back, dropping his head to blow a raspberry on his neck.

"NOHOHohoho! Wilbur! Stohohop!" Tommy cackled, trying to push away from Wilbur but only arching himself into the man's fingers.

"Only when you say it! It's three words Tommy!" Wilbur spidered lightly at Tommy's lower ribs, blowing another raspberry on the boy's skin. "You do can it!"

Tommy's knees had almost given out under him, Wilbur practically holding up the boy. Tommy squirmed, giggling madly at the gentle tickles and trying not to drop to the floor.

"Fihihine! Okay! I lohohove you Wilbuhuhur!" He turned his head away from the older to hide his red face and rapid giggles. Wilbur's face broke into a massive smile.

"Awwww Tommy!" Wilbur lifted the boy off his feet and hugged him tightly. "Thank you!"

"Lemme down you prick!" Tommy laughed, "I'm gonna start stabbing shit!"

Wilbur squeezed him then lowered the boy again. "You wouldn't stab me would you?"

"Test me and I might."

Wilbur chuckled and turned back to the bed where the song lyrics and his guitar lay. "You actually want to hear what I've got so far?"

Tommy's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Wilbur felt his chest warm at the kid. "Yeah, really."

"Hell yes!" Tommy leapt onto the bed, picked up the guitar and held it out to Wilbur. "Lemme hear it Big Dubs!"

Wilbur rolled his eyes and sat on the bed, adjusting the instrument. "It's still not completely finished yet" he said, tuning it a little.

"That's fine" Tommy lay on his stomach, watching Wilbur with his complete attention. "Anything you play sounds great."

'This kid' Wilbur thought fondly. 'What did I do to deserve him?'

"Okay" he placed the capo onto the frets and strummed the tune with calloused fingers. He took a deep breath; "I'm living the dream, it's just one of those dreams where you're losing all your teeth, and if you think that it gets better, darling, take a look at me…"

[murderousginger]

Running

Finn Shelby x reader

Warnings: language. They're criminals guys, they do bad things.

Word count: 1,111

This song requested by anon.

"I like fucking everything."

That's what he had told the pretty Chinese girl before she put a gun to his head. He hadn't liked that.

"I'm alright," he had panted. "She fired into the ceiling."

He was anything but alright. The fear and adrenaline coursed through him missed with the coke, making the run to the pub feel like he teleported. His lungs burnt and his head spun and all he could feel was fear burning into anger. His brain was off.

When he got to the pub and his brothers stopped him from blowing off the Chinaman's head, he was lost. Confused. Pent up. Angry.

He had been a runner for his brothers all his life, so he did what he knew. He ran.

He hadn't had a destination in mind when he left the pub, he really hadn't. But you made sense. You had known him his entire life and had grown up with him and his lifestyle. You knew what happened, even if you weren't always happy about it. He trusted you like no other.

Finn burst through your door that afternoon like he normally did, but you realized something was off right away. He was the only other person with a key, so you didn't move from your couch or look up from your needlework when you heard the door unlatch and burst open.

"'lo Finn," you called, amused as always by your friend.

You had a long history of Finn refusing to let you have boundaries 'for your own protection.' If you had a secret, he knew of it. If a man was interested in you, Finn had to vet him. It was endearing as much as it was grating at times, but you also knew that you could easily be a liability for the Blinders and for your own health if you tried to keep secrets. You were a vault of secrets of information about the Shelbys and the Blinders, and Finn was only trying to keep his closest friend safe.

You barely had time to look up and move your project from your lap when a disheveled, sweaty Finn hurled himself at you on the couch. You let out a small yelp before you giggled and put your hand through the top of his hair as his arms wrapped around your midsection and he buried his face into your lap. He was shaking as he wrapped himself tighter around you, breathing in your scent with shaky breaths. You frowned as you began smoothing his hair.

"Finn, what's wrong?" You asked, fear starting to course through you. You had only seen him this scared a few times, and most of them dealt with death. Rather than answer, he buried his head in your skirts farther.

"Finn you're scaring me," you said as you began to tremble in his grasp. You grabbed his chin to lift his face to yours, meeting his bloodshot blue eyes.

"I thought I was dead," he mumbled before his lips crashed into yours, toppling you backward as he crawled over you and peppered you in kisses. "The Chinese sent a whore to put a gun to my head for business with Tom, and she shot the ceiling, and I ran to the pub and shot the ceiling, and I thought I was dead."

His lips found yours again and you kissed like he was trying to lose himself in you. Your mind was mud, thick with information that wouldn't process with your best friend's lips making you feel such heated feelings.

You had always had feelings for your friend, but also knew his life and lifestyle wasn't exactly friendly for real feelings. He had only come to you like this once before when his brother had died. You were both mourning and found comfort in each other that night but when the day broke you had pretended like it was all a fever dream that never happened. You were friends. But now he was kissing you like this again in the middle of the afternoon and muddying your thoughts.

You relished his kiss for a moment, enjoying his urgency and need of you. But guilt set in and you pushed him back a moment as you felt his hands start to clamber up your dress to warm skin.

"Finn," you said slowly in an exhale, trying to calm yourself as you met his wild blue eyes. "Do you actually want to kiss me, or are you trying to forget your head?"

He froze, his wild eyes focusing on you as his hands stopped clambering for your skin. He let out a heavy shaking breath as he reluctantly took his hand off your bare thigh and sat up, giving you space. You immediately regretted your question as you sat up beside him.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly as he ran a hand through his hair. "I shouldn't have pushed myself on you, I should have--"

"No, it's--"

"I was such a fuckin' animal," he berated himself as he started pacing the floor, building up steam again. "To think I could just walk in here and attack you like that--"

"Finn-"

"--it's fuckin' dispicable, no matter what just happened," he continued. "I'm pathetic to think--"

"Finn," you said sternly, making him snap to full attention in front of you. "Sit. Down."

Finn immediately did as you said, letting his brain go on autopilot when a sharp tone was used on him. You knew the reaction was ingrained in him thanks to his brothers, but you hated to use it. You let out a sigh as you took his hand.

"Now," you said as you tried to gather yourself. "Finny, why did you come here? Really?"

"I-" he stuttered, wrapping your hand in his. "I dunno. I didn't think. I just ran and here I was."

"I'm here for you, Finny," you said reassuringly. "I just need to know what you need. You need to talk to me about what's in your head."

"I just--" he started. "I was afraid. I didn't think of where to go. I just showed up here."

"So do you need a friend or a shag?" You said bluntly, irritation creeping in. "I'm not waiting here for when your whores are unreliable. I'm worth more than--"

"You're worth more than all the snow and guns in the world," Finn said as he scooped your face in his hands. "I came here without a thought because I know I'm safe with you, love. I don't need a fuck, I just need you."

"Finn Shelby you should have said it sooner then," you said breathlessly as you tackled him to the couch.

[theshelbyclan]

Kindred Spirits

Summary: Finn is bonding with his niece Ruby

(gif by @hellomadelene​) A/N: Somehow I started missing baby Finn like crazy, so I wanted to write a Finn fic and decided to let him bond with Ruby Shelby! This was based on sweet anons request: Could I request 6(“C’mere, you can sit on my lap ‘till I’m done.”), 9 (“Pretend to be my date.”) and 36 (“You aren’t the boss of me.”) from the random prompt list for Finn Shelby please😊 I really love your writing and I loved your characterization of Finn in one of your prompts! You most certainly can! I hope you like it, because it’s unlike anything I’ve written before, as well as being very short… Words: 1094

***

Ruby Shelby’s world was very small. There was her mother and then there was her brother. Her mother was sweet and her brother was loud; that was all she knew. You see, a four-year-old doesn’t realise she’s royalty, just for being a Shelby. And a four-year-old can’t see the empire her father has built, just the house in which they all live. Little Ruby didn’t know anything, accepted all the craziness as part of life and observed it all without many words.

When it was her birthday, daddy was there, but he didn’t pay much attention. When Charlie played the violin, he never really listened. But when Ruby came running up to him in the fields, he was glad to see her, she knew that. “Come here, sweetheart,” he said as he knelt down and swung her through the air, “I’ve missed you.” “I’ve missed you too, daddy.” “How are you doing, eh?” “Mummy’s sad.” “Why?” Ruby shrugged.  Mummy was sad and Charlie was mad, but she had no idea why. Tommy frowned, “Has she said anything?” “No, but she was crying.” “Were you?” he looked at her with worry in his eyes. “No,” was all she said. But her father hadn’t come on his own. Behind him another horse had walked and Ruby’s uncle Finn was riding it. The family was falling apart, Thomas himself most of all, but still Finn followed him if he asked. It was more than Tommy deserved really.

He turned to his youngest brother, “Finn, watch her for me, eh?” “I can’t, Tom, I’ve got this girl–“ Tommy rubbed his forehead and sighed in the most meaningful manner, “Just do as I ask, Finn. It’s business I need to attend to.” Or my wife, he thought, but didn’t say it. And so Ruby was handed over to her uncle Finn.

With that soft Shelby smile, with which he suddenly resembled John more than ever, Finn picked her up, “Well, sweetheart, I suppose you’ll have to make do with me. Let’s go back to Small Heath, alright?” “What girl?” Ruby asked at once, pointedly. He frowned, “What?” “You said you had a girl,” she reminded him, “when daddy asked.” “Yeah,” Finn planted his niece on top of a gigantic horse in her eyes, “Just a girl I was meant to meet today.” “Why?” “Because I like her,” he replied honestly, as he sat behind her on the horse. Slowly they made their way back to the city. “Why?” Ruby asked again. “Well, she’s smart and she’s pretty…” Ruby scrunched up her nose as she was thinking hard, “Are you going to marry her?” Finn laughed out loud, but he didn’t reply.

*** Back at the Garrison, Finn was at home, but Ruby not so much. She grew up in the biggest house and even though her family’s roots lay here, it was all strange to her. Tommy didn’t want her to know about Small Heath too much, but Finn hadn’t thought about that. She was a Shelby, just like him, and this was their home. “Rubes,” Finn urged softly, “come here. I just need to clean this.” And he took out his pistol and started taking it apart. Ruby walked over to him and started picking up the parts. “Don’t touch that,” he raised his eyebrows sternly, “that’s not for little girls.” “Why?” “Because it’s dangerous.” “My daddy has hundreds of those,” she replied in a flash, “and I will too one day.” Finn smirked a little, “These are not for you. Not even when you get older.” Ruby stomped her foot in anger at that, “You’re not the boss of me!” He dropped the cloth and his features softened again, “I know. I’m sorry. Come here, you can sit on my lap until I’m done.” And he pulled the stubborn four-year-old onto the chair. “See this?” he said as he handed her another cloth, admitting defeat, “you have to clean this. Try it. If it’s not clean, it won’t work.” “Why?” her signature question came again. “It just won’t fire.”

And full of patience he showed her how to do it, over and over again. For a moment they cleaned in silence, but then she asked, “Uncle Finn? Where’s the girl you are going to marry?” “Probably at home waiting.” Ruby was quiet for a few more moments. The funny thing was, she was most comfortable around Finn, out of all her uncles and family members. He never lied to her, he was calm and he took the time to be with her. Ruby didn’t talk much and neither did he, so they often just were quiet together or rode horses, in silence. And in a way, they both needed a family member like that. “Uncle Finn?” Ruby turned around to look him in the eye, “I don’t want you to go to this girl.” “Why not?” Finn replied, always amazed by how to-the-point his little niece could be, when she did speak, “Maybe she’s nice.” “No.” “Alright,” he laughed, “What about if you pretend to be my date?” Ruby thought about this for a second, “Why?” “Could be fun,” he said as he put her on the table after the work was done, “we could go to the pictures?” “Really?” her eyes lit up. “Of course!” he smiled broadly, beaming at the sight of his niece this happy. Ruby picked up the gun and gave it to Finn. His face fell a little, “Rubes? Listen to me. These guns, I know you see us with them all the time, but that’s not normal. They’re really not for you.” “Why?” she started again, “Daddy- “ “No,” he stopped her softly, “Daddy needs them, but you don’t. These are bad things, do you understand? They make you do bad things.” Ruby was incredibly smart for her age but still this took her a few moments, “You too?” “Yes. And I hate it,” the truth escaped his lips before he could stop it. “But how else can I be like daddy?” she asked innocently.

“You should never, everpretend to be like him.” Finn shook his head, “You don’t understand yet, but you will, I promise.” And Ruby nodded obediently. “Now, let’s go the pictures, alright? You’ll be the prettiest date I’ve ever had!” he grinned. She jumped off the table excitedly and grabbed his hand.

“Uncle Finn?” she looked up at him. “Rubes?” And she said solemnly, “I like being with you.” “I like being with you too, sweetheart,” and he gently pressed a kiss on her head.

*** Masterlist

[sunnyie-eve]

6 || Bullet wound

Series: Treasure Hunt | Without a Paddle

Word count: 1.7k

PREVIOUS

"Tom... Where were you a river guide?" Dan asks tired.

"San Dimas." Tom says making me want to get up and strangle him.

"Raging Waters?" Jerry says.

"Yeah. They had some serious rapids there, man." Tom answers.

"What, class, toddler?!" I shout at him.

"Hey, I was employee of the month of the Monsoon Lagoon." I throw my head back while they all blame whose fault it is for us getting here.

"Hold on a sec, Tom. We're you really employed of the month?" Jerry asks.

"No. I lied about that, too." He tells us the truth.

"Let's just go home." Dan shouts.

"I agree. That's a great decision. All we gotta do is jump up over that 100 foot waterfall, swim upstream 20 miles, get to the sheriff on the phone... He likes us. I remember. And he'll send out a rescue boat." I grab Dan turning him to the waterfall.

"Hey, there's a beer in the river. Cool. Look at this it's cold." Tom takes it out of the water. While Dan loses his mind, I look at the wedding ring on my finger. Jerry said he still had Billy's compass so we walk south.

"Hey that sounds like Creed." Jerry says.

"I never thought I'd be happy to hear anything that sounds like Creed." Tom says and as we get to the top we see lights.

When we get closer we realize it's the two guys from the river. Dan or either Jerry kicks a van making them know someone is here. "That's a gun." I whisper as we go to hide. "Holy hell." I see the whole shed was full of weed with Tom.

"Hey. These guys are pot farmers." Tom lets Jerry and Dan know.

"What? How do you know that?" Jerry asks so we point it out.

"We should go." Jerry says.

"No shit." I whisper shout at him.

"What are you doing?" I see Tom opening a package.

"I'll write you a prescription. Let's go." Dan tells him as we tell him let's go.

"All right." He comes over making noise.

"Tom!" I growl at him.

As we get ready to leave the dogs show up then the guys. "Hey, guys, um... Listen. We don't want any trouble. Um, we just got lost in the river, you know? Hey, can we use your phone? And... And... Who cares, you know?" Dan says right before they start to shoot at us.

I hiss as I feel a bullet grazed my side as I leap to hide with the guys.

"Let's go through there." Tom points at the wall.

"Where? There's no door." Dan says and the guys look at each before throwing him through the wall.

"Pick him up faster. You giants should have no problem." I shout at them as they grab Dan.

"What do you do?" Jerry asks as Dan set something off.

"Why are there flares?" He asks as we all look us.

"Great mother of ganja." We see a field of them growing pot. The gunshots making us run again but as the field catches fire we start to crack up getting high.

"I never thought I'd die with you losers!" I laugh running.

"It's not so bad." Tom laughs.

"You guys gotta promise my you'll never tell my patients that I got stoned, because if they found out I got stoned, they'll think that I'm a stoner. The next thing you know, I won't have a license anymore. They'll take away all my instruments and my coat and my office, and I won't have... a parking space anymore." Dan cries while we laugh at him. "I lost my legs." He falls straight down.

"You gotta move your legs." We tell him helping him back up.

"They have laser scopes. They had you pinned." Jerry says as we stop to the side.

"Dudes, dudes. Seriously. Seriously. I will give you four cows for Denise's hand in marriage." Tom laughs in a Indian accent.

"Keep moving." I laugh pushing them forward. We look at Dan as he gasps and lean backs mocking the Matrix before running with us again.

We all run into a pond and panic trying to figure out how to hide. We grab a plant that looked like a huge straw so we put it in our mouth and use it like a snorkel. We listen to them yell and come up when we no longer hear them.

"It crawled straight in my stomach. I think it laid eggs in my stomach." Dan coughs as we all get out to keep moving all night.

~

"You think they're still following us?" Dan asks.

"I don't wanna stop and find out." I hiss as my hand hits where the bullet grazed me.

"I think we can slow down. I haven't heard dogs or guns for hours." Jerry says after some time.

"Yeah? You slow down... Get a stick of dynamite up your ass." Dan tells him.

"Calm down, Daniel, we're gonna be all right." Jerry says passing him up.

"No, we're not, Jerry. We could really die out here. Man, I can't believe that I would listen to you guys. Let's go take Billy's trip. Let's... let's find D.B.'s treasure. I'll get a canoe. I'll get some rope." Dan starts to lose it again.

"Is he all right?" Jerry looks at Tom and I.

"Is he having a panic attack?" Tom asks.

"I think his is." We stare at him.

"That's great. Make jokes. That's a really good idea. Is this living in the moment enough for you, Jerry? Is this the carefree life with no response that you wanted? Is this the great wilderness adventure that you were dreaming of?" Dan asks.

"How should I be, Dr. Dan? Tell me." Jerry walks up to him.

"Be scared." Dan says so Jerry said he is.

"Well, then act like it! It is very confusing to people in your life when you don't act the way that you're feeling! No wonder Denise is fed up with you." Dan says making Jerry grab him.

"Hey, hey. That was uncalled for." I step between them and Tom pulls Jerry back.

"No, you staying with an abusive ass is uncalled for. You married a man who was just like your father." He snaps making me grab him by the shirt. "You little weasel." I growl but Tom steps in making me let go of Dan's shirt.

"Take it easy." He tells him.

"You take it easy. Mr. Joe-tattoo. Mr. Motorcycle-man... Mr. Super-cool, Mr. Bullet-wound... Oh, my... Tom... You got shot." Dan says and we see Tom's arm. Dan says he'll stick it up.

"What's wrong with you?" Tom nods his head at where my hand was.

"Just a bullet grazed me." I lift my shirt to show them.

"That will need stitches too." Dan tells me as I sit down next to Tom.

"Did I see you have a lower back tat?" Tom leans closer to me whispering.

"Ugh, yes." I roll my eyes.

"Thought you weren't getting any other than the one on your wrist and ankle?" He laughs.

"Park, you got another tattoo?" Jerry asks.

"I got four more." I tell them and Jerry starts to apologize to Dan.

"Tom, I think you're buying with all that Harley money." Jerry sits with us.

"I'm sorry, I, uh... That whole thing was an exaggeration." Tom tells us.

"What, you don't make that much?" Jerry asks.

"No, I don't sell Harleys. In fact, uh... The only thing I've sold lately is some clothes and CDs. They weren't not even mine." He chuckles.

"Tom, that's not an exaggeration. That's a lie. You know you lie a lot." I laugh.

"I know." He sighs making me rub his good arm.

"What happened?" Dan asks him.

"Well, first it was blackjack. Then the cards went south. So then I started betting football and baseball. I lost everything. What'd I expect? I got no luck. It's like my old man used to say. Family curse. If we didn't have bad luck, we wouldn't have luck at all." Tom explains so Jerry and him talk about how he's not like his father.

"Well, I wouldn't say a lot smarter. Tom... you have a lot more going for you than you think you do." Dan tells him.

"That's easy for you to say Dano. You're a freaking doctor. I mean, you got a big old bank account, a ginormous house, big, think red hair." Tom tells him and Dan them says he develops a new fear like every day.

"Your turn Park." Tom and I swap places.

I turn the other way since he needed my right side then roll my shirt up and lean back a little so he could get to it. "What's the story of this baby." Tom points at the tattoo on the side of my left abdomen.

"It's a sad story." I sigh.

"We just talked about sad things." He looks at the tattoo.

"I lost a baby... Because of Rick." I sigh closing my eyes.

"Because of Rick?! How!?" Jerry shouts.

"I was scared to tell him and when he found out he was pissed. He told me to get rid of it and when I said I wanted a baby he did anything to make me lose it. He succeeded so I got a tattoo. Which pissed him off because he hates that I have tattoos. If you have tattoos you're just a tramp and dirty." I mock him.

"You're a tramp... HA!" Tom laughs.

"What's funny about that?" Dan asks.

"Our Park has a tramp stamp." Tom laughs.

"Hey, it made me more money at the strip club." I laugh.

"Where are your other tats?" Tom asks.

"Right shoulder/ collarbone, and sternum." I tell him and gives me a side smile.

"Done." Dan finishes as we hear his phone ringing. "Hey, would one of you guys grab my phone. My..." We look around then the guys take off.

"Wait guys!" I rush after them then the bear roars making them run back.

NEXT

[bigskydreaming]

And one more bit from the “Kings of the Sky” AU albeit several installments in, because I just......don’t know when or why I stumbled into an obsession with the dynamics between Dick and Jason and Cass as the eldest three Wayne siblings, but its there, its real, and its happening. I’ve stopped fighting it. I just....enjoy writing those three being dumb siblings who are dumb like so, so much.

Anyway, in this AU series, Jason doesn’t go to Ethiopia and die, but rather eventually joins Dick at Titans Tower more regularly and is Flamebird. Both are closer with Bruce here than in canon because Dick helped Bruce and Jason get through the Garzonas stuff and Jason helped kick Bruce in the direction of Dick and adoption papers right after the Brother Blood storyline. Then Cass is actually the third to join the family, by way of Babs, and she’s Batgirl and then Black Bat, but there’s a period of time when its just Dick, Jason and Cass as the Wayne kids. 

(PS - this is the same series as where Jason ends up with his own age group of Titans, and accidentally falls into a love quadrangle of doom that is absolutely NOT a polycule dammit, with Tom Bronson (Tomcat), Ray Terrill (The Ray) and Todd Rice (Obsidian). Which amuses his brother and sister to no end).

Tim and Duke are both next, but sorta at the same time? Like Tim’s story takes a sharp turn when Robin II never dies and obviously is Flamebird now like Robin I is Nightwing, and Tim winds up in foster care after his parents die differently than in canon. Duke is also in foster care at this time, though a different placement, and while no Robin has died here, its been awhile since there’s been one in Gotham, and to kids who grew up with the idea of there always being a Robin, that feels weird and wrong ultimately. 

So Tim and Duke both hit on the idea of being Robin like, at around the same time and totally disconnected from one another, and that leads to them both joining the Batfam around the same time, and co-sharing Robin until Damian arrives much later and they both move on to new identities. But there’s no real confusion between Robins because Duke is the daytime Robin with more yellow coloring in his costume and Tim is the nighttime Robin with more red, and people say Red or Yellow if they ever need to differentiate which Robin they’re talking about. Anyway.

************

So [Tim and Duke] run into trouble eventually and then when running from trouble they run into each other and they’re like….huh. Awkward. And then they decide well, might as well both run from trouble in the same direction, I guess. So they do.

“Did you have a plan for dealing with these guys?” Tim yelled at Duke. The other boy looked back over his shoulder briefly and gave what would probably have been a half-shrug if he didn’t awkwardly try to barrel-roll over a car two seconds later.

“Umm, sorta?”

“How sorta are we talking about? Maybe the two of us together could fill in the gaps in the plan and come up with one full plan?”

“Uh yeah, no, its not that kinda sorta. I meant sorta in the sense that I thought I had a plan but it didn’t work and that’s why these guys are after me. Sooooo…”

“Not helpful, basically.”

“Yeah. Pretty much. And hey, I don’t hear you offering up a plan! Did you even have one at all?”

“Uh….I mean I kinda didn’t think I was going to need one because I figured some kid running around in a mask making a nuisance of himself was the sorta thing that was bound to attract Batman. And so I was just pretty much running around until that happened, and then I’d make a case for how I obviously need training and Gotham needs Robin and if its not me its likely to be someone else trying eventually anyway so why not be me?”

Duke paused just long enough to squint at him. “That’s a terrible plan.”

Tim rolled his eyes. The effort didn’t pair well with his huffing and over-all exertions from running for his life and all that, but necessity demanded. “Yeah I know, that’s why I never said it was a plan! It was mostly….more…idea-ish.”

“I’m just saying, I thought I was doing this wrong, but at least I had a plan! I mean yeah, it might have ended up with me accidentally busting in on what I thought was a bunch of Riddler’s henchmen setting up some kind of clue thing, only it was actually a bunch of Intergang type guys with alien space guns or some shit all dressed up as Riddler henchmen for some reason? I dunno what they were trying to do honestly, but so yeah I might have ended up running away on foot from like twenty of them and some kind of hovercycle -”

“I’m going to cut you off there and say wherever this is going its probably not the superior vantage point I think you think you have.”

Meanwhile, Batman was not going to be coming because he’s off on a JLA mission. However, in his absence Dick and Jason are in town filling in, and they finished taking out the bad guys several blocks back and caught up to whomever was running from them, figured out the situation and are currently sitting on the edge of a rooftop watching them realize they’re totally lost and trying to figure out where to go from here. Mostly because Dick and Jason are incredibly amused listening to their back and forth and also just…this whole situation.

Dick justifies not piping up to let them know they’re safe now by saying this is good intel gathering so we can offer Bruce our assessment as to whether they’re gonna try and keep doing this whether we train them or not, and also how they handle this whole being lost situation. Not knowing they don’t have to run anymore isn’t going to hurt them and really, this is a good field exercise almost.

Jason justifies not piping up by saying this is fucking hilarious and I will hurt you if you end this any sooner than we have to, I deserve this, I had a rough week.

Which is right around the time that Cass pipes up from where she’s been lurking unnoticed behind them this whole time: “Oh no. Was it Tom? Or Ray? Or was it Todd?”

And she does it right in Jason’s ear so he kinda aborted-shrieks and almost falls off the roof except Cass is ready for that and grabs his arm to steady him.

“I hate when you do that!” Jason growls in an attempt to cover up how badly she got him and also because he hates when she does it which is why she does it a lot. Again, they don’t hate each other at all, but they do seem to act like it a lot, and neither of them is entirely sure why. They kinda just started doing it and have each been trying to get the other back ever since and ended up locked in an unending spiral of gotcha-gotchaback, except, y’know, Batfam style.

Dick occasionally picks sides just to muddy the waters. And then he randomly switches sides without warning, so neither of them ever wants to risk getting too peeved at him even when he’s helping the other, because that might push him fully over to the other side and leave them permanently outnumbered, so they’re kinda stuck, which is exactly as he likes it, lol.

“Why are you Satan,” Jason hisses dramatically as he gets up and stomps over to the other side of the roof to sulk, lest she almost knock him off again. Its not the almost falling part that bothers him, its that she’s the one that snatches him to safety each time. She’s like a freaking cat toying with a - yeah not going there, just blaming Selina. Knew them hanging out was going to be bad news for me somehow, he gripes.

Cass just shrugs and smoothly sits down cross-legged right where she is, grinning Cheshire-cat style at him from there. “Childhood trauma,” is her answer.

“Great, and now you’re stealing my comeback on top of it?! Is nothing sacred to you?”

She offers another shrug. He would like to return those for store credit please. Maybe get something useful instead. “Haven’t decided yet. Babs is still helping me explore my options. We’re going alphabetically and we’re only on  the E-religions.”

“God, you’re the worst. I can’t believe you ruined sisters for me.”

“You already used that same line last week when you came out of your room still half-asleep and she was just sitting directly across from your door waiting and staring unblinking and you yelped and dropped your laptop on your toe, and then cursed so loud that B came running around the hall thinking we were being invaded,” Dick reported idly, still perched in the same position he’d been in all along and watching the boys below them. “Just in case you thought no one noticed when you recycle.”

“I noticed too,” Cass added solemnly.

“I have no siblings,” Jason intoned. He threw up his hands dramatically and then loudly jumped down to the street below with a little help from the fire escape. It drew both Duke and Tim’s attention and they startled before realizing it was Flamebird. And that he’d landed on the street and was stalking past them while barely acknowledging them. And that that was Nightwing standing on the roof now with his hands on his hips yelling after him.

“Oh, reeeeeeal subtle. You’re not having fun anymore so you gotta make sure nobody else does either. Wow, the Brat-like behavior, just jumped out of the shadows with that one!”

And that was Flamebird not even turning around and just yelling back. “I HAVE NO SIBLINGS!”

And also they were both pretty sure that was Batgirl crouched on the roof next to Nightwing now, and she was…..sticking her tongue out at Flamebird’s back? No, Batgirl very much definitely was sticking out her tongue, that wasn’t in doubt, it was more just….very unexpected to see.

What was happening right now?

********

Eventually Tim and Duke have inevitably worn down [Bruce’s] resistance to training them by insisting they’re gonna keep doing this and if its not them its gonna be someone sooner or later anyway. Because, as they put it, you guys may not know this but Gotham’s gotten used to Robins by now and it freaks people out not to see one and Robin’s as important as Batman really and there needs to be a Robin and its not just us that will think that, like look at the fact that already two of us had the exact same idea, huh? And also, we’re gonna keep doing it anyway, sooooo….there’s that.

And then Cass vouches that they’re both 100% serious about that.

And then Dick vouches that as a former determined daredevil kid that was absolutely going to keep doing the same thing no matter whether you’d helped me or not, B, I also am of the assessment that these two mean it all the way.

And not to be left out and just to have something to contribute but also grumpy because his brother and sister are picking on him and he’s eighteen going on ten, Jason throws in: “And my assessment is that they both definitely seem dumb enough to keep doing this without help anyway and they definitely need help or they definitely will die, I’d give it a month, month and a half tops.”

And then Bruce dryly thanks his children for their contributions, their keen insights in this matter have been absolutely invaluable, he has no idea how he would make a decision here without it.

“Oooh, a rare sighting of Bat-snark in the wild. Someone call Nat-Geo quick, maybe he’ll do it again,” Dick says.

Bruce sighs. Duke and Tim look like they’re trying to decide if they’re allowed to be amused or if that’s also part of some weird Bat-test that they’re probably taking without even knowing it.

So Tim and Duke move in, start training together, and then also get sent to school together and it takes a month or so of settling in before they decide whether or not they actually are happy about this. There’s a period of deciding they’re supposed to be bitter rivals who snipe at each other back and forth across the dining table at every available opportunity, but that changes the first night Dick and Jason come back from the Tower since Tim and Duke have moved in and where Cass is also home instead of at the Clocktower with Babs.

Since all three of the older Batkids, upon seeing Tim and Duke squabble at dinner, decide to obnoxiously coo about how adorable it is watching the kids play. Which pretty instantly cements Duke and Tim as realizing their best chance of surviving the sudden acquisition of three older superhero ninja foster siblings who all can be as obnoxious as they are dangerous but also as much as they are - Duke and Tim are convinced - all quite insane.

A belief further cemented the next morning, with all three of them having spent the night at the Manor as well. Treating Duke and Tim to their first Saturday morning episode of the Cass and Jason show.

In this episode, Jason emerged from his bedroom in his pajamas still but warily peeking his head out first to look both ways down the hall before deciding it was clear…..and then makes it just almost to the end of the hallway leading to the stairs, when Cass drops down from where she’d been waiting perched above the other side of the door, in such a way as to suddenly fill the doorway just in front of him, hanging upside down suspending herself just with her feet wedged above the doorway, all while keeping her hands crossed her chest, a dead-eyed expression on her face, and with her tongue hanging out like she’s some kind of vampire hanging upside down in mid-slumber.

Jason shrieked and stumbled back a foot before catching himself and shoving two fingers in a cross shape in her direction.

“Demon! DEMON! Goddammit, I abjure thee, that’s supposed to fucking do something about having a demon sister, now what the fuck does it take to banish you!?”

“Can’t be banished,” Cass informed him, still upside down. “Can be bought though.”

Jason halted. “What?”

“I’m really surprised you never figured it out,” Dick said from his room further down the hallway. He was leaning against the doorjamb, arms casually crossed.

“Why did you think she never goes after me?”

Jason swiveled back and forth between his siblings suspiciously, trying to scry both their inscrutable (and in Cass’ case, still upside down) faces for signs they were telling the truth. “You’re telling me that Little Miss Monstrous has been a pain in my ass from day one and the reason she’s never so much as eked a single boo in your direction is you’ve been bribing her all this time?”

Dick shrugged. “Its all about getting in on the ground floor.”

Jason squinted, still unconvinced. “Nuh-uh. No way. You’re just fucking with me. Like if this is for real, what have you been buying her off with?”

Dick smiled beatifically. “Cuddles and hugs.”

“NO! NO! Bullshit! I am NOT falling for this crap again, you are not gonna get me this way this time. I call BS, fuck you, nuh uh, you’re lying out your ass and your ass-face both.”

“Wait, what is this ‘this’ that I did before? What ever are you talking about?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

“Is this about the Care Bear you had when you were fifteen?”

“Shut upppppppppppppppp, I didn’t have a Care Bear then, you’re such a - “

“Oh, I dunno, I’m preeeeetty sure there’s some holiday photos from that year that would say otherwise, pretty definitively in the form of you and your Care Bear….”

“That I only had because you literally just gave it to me as a present solely so that you could claim that I had a Care Bear when I was fifteen, you douchebag!”

“Just because I gave you the Care Bear didn’t mean you had to keep the Care Bear and hold the Care Bear and love the Care Bear, Jay. You chose to do all that.”

“I only kept the damn thing because you’re an asshole who lied about it being a family heirloom so I felt like I had to or I’d be a total jerk. Is nothing sacred to you?”

“I didn’t lie! It is a treasured family heirloom! Its the first Care Bear I gave to my little brother to teach him the important and valuable lesson that Care Bears - say it with me now - “

“Finish that sentence and they will never find your body.”

“CARE!” Cass shrieked from behind him before jumping on Jason’s back and bearing him down to the floor in an undignified tangle as she splayed atop him like a starfish and he stared up at the ceiling in a kind of strangled frozen fury, like there was so much emotion he wanted to process he’d overheated and now was stuck like that until he cooled down.

That was when Dick leaned over him and solemnly added one final thought, as though it was a crucial addition of the gravest importance:: “A lot.”

Jason’s eye twitched.

Dick’s eyes went wide in response. “Uh oh. He went to the Danger Zone. Run Cass. We’ve unleashed the dogs of war!”

Cass was off and on her feet in a second, taking off down the hall like a rocket. “Not the dogs of war!” She yelled.

Dick was only seconds behind her when behind him, Jason rose like an eruption, growling wordlessly and sparks practically flashing from his suddenly flinty eyes. He charged after them like an enraged bull.

“Kenny Loggins wouldn’t want this!” Dick yelled over his shoulder as he rounded the doorway and vanished. Jason rounded it in hot pursuit.

“Poison Ivy won’t even be able to make compost from what’s left of you when I’m through!”

The yelling and running vanished into the distance. Duke and Tim finally looked at each other blankly.

“What?” Tim asked. Duke shrugged helplessly.

A door opened at the end of the hallway. Bruce stuck his head out. “Is it safe?”

Tim just stared at him.

“What?” Duke asked.

**************

LOL mostly I just want to get to the tail end of the series, when Dick and Jason go undercover as supervillains in the Society of well, Supervillains....Dick as War Shrike and Jason as Gray Jay. (A kind of bird usually known for or referenced as being thieving and unpredictable and unexpectedly dangerous despite its size. Jason never went into the Lazarus Pit here and so isn’t as huge as he is in canon, he’s on the smaller side due to his early life’s malnutrition. Living with Bruce helped him catch up enough that he’s not TINY tiny, but he’s still smaller enough that this particular mantle fits him a little better than it would his massive canon depiction).

Cass also partakes in the undercover storyline, just showing up uninvited in a persona she’s crafted for the mission and calls Black Swan. And War Shrike and Gray Jay are both so startled and obviously a little freaked by her unexpected arrival, that combined with her being ticked at her brothers for leaving her behind, RUDE, and them sufficiently cowed and guilted by her wrath, that it all adds up to the other villains as being clear evidence that she is the boss and they are her advance minions. 

Which mollifies and satisfies Cass immensely, and leaves Jason grumpy that their mission was hijacked and also his sister is The Worst, and leaves Dick temporarily disgruntled because This Whole Thing Was His Idea DAMMIT but then five seconds later finding it hilarious because Dick is a chaos connoisseur and he has an appreciation for whimsy and the unexpected.

“I can’t believe you not only gate-crashed our extremely sensitive and delicate undercover operation, but you completely hijacked it as well! This is so typical,” Jason grouched.

Cass simply swept ahead of him and strode down the hallway with lethal grace. “Silence minion.”

Jason spluttered behind her and she grinned to herself. He really made it too easy sometimes.

[dragon-kazansky]

I get a kick out of you

Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x Reader

Platonic! Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x Reader

[Masterlist]

[Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

Warnings: Ice’s health is getting worse. I don’t specify what it is, but just a heads-up if you find it hard to read about declining health.

30 years later and Maverick is back in Top Gun. This time to teach it. It’s his turn to deal with his past, but it’s going to be OK. You’re there to help him. Both of you have someone to look out for.

Admiral Tom Kazansky and yourself are still going strong. Married life is treating you well, but his health is taking a turn. Tom wants to do his best by Pete, but some things are out of his hands.

They both need you now more than ever.

Word count: 2.5k

Chapter Eight - In sickness and in health

♡♡♡

You fussed over Tom from the moment you sent him to bed. You had him change in his pyjamas and get in bed, telling him off if he dared look at his emails on his phone, which you confiscated at one point. You told him he could have it back if someone important called, but other than that, you kept it hidden away.

When you came to bed, he was still awake. He had been reading a book he kept on his bedside table. He looked up from its pages when you came in, smiling at you softly as you got ready for bed. You climbed in and tucked into his side.

“How are you doing?” You asked, keeping your voice no higher than whisper.

He closes his book and turns to you.

“I’m fine,” he tells you. Though the roughness to his voice tells you he’s been coughing again. You frown.

“Tom, please be honest with me.”

“I am. I’m fine.”

Your eyes flicker between his, trying to pick up on any sign of him just telling you that for your sake, but you don’t see anything. He seems to be genuine with you, which shouldn’t surprise you. Tom never lied to you. He was always open about things, which was a boundry you both set after what happened in the past.

“Alright.”

You kiss him on the cheek, letting your lips linger there for a bit. His eyes close and he smiles softly at the feel of your lips on him. When you pull away, his cheek feels cold without your touch. 

He turns and watches you get settled in the bed, as you did every night. You normally, when he decides to read in bed, turn over and get comfortable, allowing him the space to read quietly some more, but tonight he didn’t feel like it. He moved the book back to the table and turned out his light, getting comfortable.

You feel his arm drape over your waist and pull you closer to him. You smile softly as you move yourself, getting comfy next to him. His lips brush against your shoulder.

“I love you,” you hear him whisper.

You smile to yourself.

“I love you too, Tom.”

You know then he’ll sleep soundly. Well, he normally would.

Tom’s health hadn’t been great for some time, but it had been at a level that wasn’t too worrisome, but the coughing had been a lot today. It only got worse during the night.

You’re not sure what time it was. Still pitch-black outside. You didn’t feel him leave the bed, but you could faintly hear the sink running. You didn’t worry too much, as it wouldn’t be the first time one of you got up for a drink in the middle of the night. It was when you heard his coughing as he came back that you sat up and turned to the door.

Your husband comes back into the bedroom with a half full glass of water. He doesn’t realise you’re awake right away, focusing on closing the door and getting back into bed. As he pulls the covers back over him, you turn to face him. Tom lifts a hand to his mouth as he coughs again.

“Do you need anything?” You ask.

He startles, having not known you were awake. He waits for the coughing to stop, shaking his head in the meantime.

“No,” he says, but his voice sounds all the worse now. You sit up and place a hand on his back, rubbing circles there. He takes some deep breaths and gathers himself again. Tom leans into your touch, and you’re quick to wrap your arms around him.

You don’t care that’s some stupid hour of the morning, Tom needed you.

When he feels a bit more comfortable, you both lay down in the bed, but you keep your arm around him. You can’t see his eyes, but you just know he’s looking at you.

“I love you,” you whisper into the dark.

Soft lips press against your forehead.

“I love you too,” he whispers back.

No more words are shared for the rest of the night. You run your fingers through his hair until you know he’s fallen back asleep. Sleep doesn’t come back to you easily.

In the morning, he’s still asleep when you wake. You lay there and watch him for a little while, thoughts running through your head. Worry has set itself in your heart. The man you love is suffering in front of you, and you’re worried it’s only going to get worse.

You get up and decide to make a start on breakfast.

The house is quiet when your family aren’t visiting. Though you have no doubt they’ll be around later. Right now, you’ll focus on giving your husband something wonderful to start his day with.

The plan was to cook him breakfast and bring it to him in bed, but by the time you’re dishing it up, he had woken up, got up, got dressed, and come downstairs. You turn to see him enter the kitchen with the glass he used last night for his water.

“You’re supposed to be resting!” You scold him, glaring at him softly.

Tom doesn’t look the least bit apologetic as he smiles at you and puts the glass in the sink behind you. He stands close, grinning at you with his handsome smile. You lose the glare and chuckle at him.

“Tom, you need rest.”

“I will rest, later.”

You roll your eyes and kiss him. His hands settle on your hips as he kisses you, loving having his hands on you. You have to give him a soft push with your hands on his chest to get him to stop. He chuckles against your cheek. You know he would happily stand there kissing you all over if he wanted to.

“Behave,” you say, trying not to smile.

“Never,” he replies, winking at you.

“Eat your breakfast, Admiral,” you tease, patting his arm and walking around him to get your breakfast ready too.

Tom laughs softly as he takes his plate and heads over to the table.

He seems fine while you both sit down and eat. You both talk a little, eat, drink some juice, laugh a bit. It’s not until you’re clearing up that he coughs into his fist again. You stop what you’re doing to look at him.

“Tom...”

He shakes his head.

He won’t admit anything is wrong because he hates making you worry, but it doesn’t matter anyway. You are worried. He hasn’t been this bad since the first time he got sick. That was so long ago now.

You clear the plates and keep your back to him as you wash up.

Tom watches you from the kitchen table. You’re trying so hard to not let your worry show, but he can tell you’re crying quietly to yourself over there. He gets up slowly, making his way to the sink. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

He hears the sob that escapes your lips.

“Let me call your doctor,” you say, keeping your voice quiet.

He’s silent for a moment, but then he replies just as quietly, “alright.”

Tom holds you a little while longer. You finish up your task, dry your hands, and then go and give his doctor a call. While you do that, Tom sits in his office, looking out his window.

He knows he’s not well. He knows it’s getting worse.

He can’t hide it.

He can’t deny it.

Tom doesn’t want to think about the worst-case scenario. About what will happen to Maverick if he gets worse. About his children. About you. He can see your heart breaking right in front of him, and if he doesn’t recover again this time, it will surely shatter your heart into pieces.

Tom wants to take away all that worry and sadness from you.

He wants you to be happy and loved by him forever.

You open the door to his office quietly, poking your head into the room. He still hears the door open and turns his head in your direction. You walk over to him, reaching your hand to him. Tom takes it when you’re close enough, bringing to his lips.

“He’s coming up to see you today.”

Tom nods, wordlessly.

You can’t help the tears from coming again as you look at him. Tom pulls you into his lap quietly, wrapping his arms around you. He hates it when you cry. He pulls you close enough to kiss your cheek, wanting you as close as possible.

“Don’t cry,” he says.

“I can’t help it. I hated watching you become sick in the first place, and now it’s happening all over again. Tom, they told us it could be so bad if you got like this again. I can’t.... I don’t... I...”

Tom stops you from talking by pulling you into a hug. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder.

“I’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

You want to believe his words. He spoke them so confidently, but the worry hasn’t faded.

You sit with him like that for a short while before leaving him. You had tried to get him to go back to bed, but he refused. Knowing he wouldn’t do that, you left him in his office, letting him catch up with anything he missed yesterday. You had given him his phone back, but even then, he had put it away until now.

Tom’s doctor came by a couple hours later.

Tom was still in his office when you brought the doctor up. You stood by the door as the doctor went in and greeted your husband. Tom looked at you.

“You can stay,” he said.

You shook your head.

“I’ll get out of the way for now... Leave you both to it. I... I’ll go make your tea,” you said, heading out.

Tom watched you go.

The door to the office shut quietly behind you and Tom turned his eyes to the floor. He wanted to hold your hand and tell you everything was fine, but you had called his doctor for a reason. You were scared.

Tom turns back to the doctor when his name is spoken.

You watch the water boil as you wait. You grip the kitchen counter hard. You fear the worse. The warning last time that if he got sick again, it could be severe, you weren’t ready to hear that, never mind see it happen.

You loved Tom more than anything.

If you lost him....

You debate calling Pete, looking at your phone on the counter, but that might be a little immature. The doctor was only examining him, there was nothing set in stone yet. For all you knew, this was nothing but a cough that would clear up in a few days. But with how bad it sounded, and the affect it had on his voice when he was done coughing, you wondered. You worried.

All you seem to do is worry over him.

The water is boiled. You make his tea. You take your time putting his tea set together on a tray to take up to him. You walk slowly back up to his office.

You take your time.

Standing outside his door, you hesitate for a moment. You had given them some time, but you wondered if you would be disturbing them if you went in now. You were about ready to turn and leave, giving them more time, but the door opened, and you looked up to see the doctor standing there.

“He said you might be out here,” the doctor smiled.

You chuckle softly and step inside the office. Tom turns in his chair to look at you, offering you a smile. You return the smile and set the tray on his desk, but he doesn’t even glance at it. He reaches out and holds your hand.

“I think you should stay,” the doctor says to you.

You glance at him and then at your husband. Seeing the look on Tom’s face, you nod once and sit down, letting Tom hold your hand.

“What is it?” You ask, seeing the look on the doctor’s face.

“It’s not great news, I’m afraid,” he tells you.

You give Tom’s hand a squeeze as you try to keep calm. Tom doesn’t take his eyes off of you as you listen to the doctor. He’s not worried about him. He’s worried about you.

“Tell me.”

“Your husband’s health has worsened. The coughing is an early sign, but you knew this from last time.”

You nod your head.

“The good news is, he could recover from this, but there is a high chance he will get worse. From what I have gathered from my examination, his body has taken a much more severe hit this time around. I would hope that you only have to deal with the coughing, Mr Kazansky, but I fear you may feel much more than that. You may grow tired quickly, lose some of your strength, if your coughing gets any worse, you may do some damage to your throat. You may feel dizzy and nauseous if you stand up too long.”

You have to close your eyes and take some deep breaths.

Tom brings your hand to his lips and kisses it again.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t guarantee anything. I fear this may get worse. If it does, you must contact me. There is a high chance this will be life threatening if this goes beyond the coughing.”

You can’t do it anymore.

You cover your mouth as tears fall.

You didn’t want to hear that.

The doctor gives you a moment as Tom pulls you into his arms and holds you. You fall against him, unable to brave face it anymore. No one wants to hear there’s a chance you’ll lose the one person you love.

Tom is the one to see the doctor out while you sit in his office staring at his desk.

The tea is cold now, but Tom doesn’t care. When he sees you sitting there, his heart aches. He walks over to the chair you’re sitting in and crouches down, taking your hands in his.

You turn your eyes to him.

“You’re not allowed to be sick...” You say, kind of teasing, but unable to laugh at your own words.

However, Tom smile at you softly.

“I’m sorry, darling.”

You lean forward and wrap your arms around his neck. Tom catches you and hugs you tight. You bury your face in his shoulder, hiding away from the world.

“You have to get better,” you mumble.

Tom doesn’t say anything, he just looks at the wall behind you as he holds you.

You know you’ll have to tell the children about this at some point, but you’ll tell them later. You’ll make an excuse for them not to visit today, wanting to be alone with Tom for now. You need time to think.

Tom agrees with this idea, because though he has a family to look after should the worst happen, he is more worried about you in this moment.

“Don’t leave me,” you whisper softly in his ear.

Tom swears his heart just broke.

“Not if I can help it,” he replies.

You fear what the future has in store for you both.

♡♡♡

@callsignscupcake - @topgun-imagines - @sitkafay - @theghostofshadows - @shianshian4315 - @mischief-siriusly-managed - @sarahissilent - @mackycat11 - @alphabetsalad - @byebyebreezywrites - @nyx2021 - @alanadetigy - @luckyladycreator2 - @fxngsfxgxrty - @snubug - @almondtofu1 - @criminalmindsandmarvel - @jakexfmc - @marchingicenotes7 - @mavericksicybabe - @some-lovely-day - @poppet05 -

[animebookworm16]

Who Are You? - Angst

For @j3ssisam3ss

This is my angst piece for @maribat-angst-fluff-april, prompt 25 Childhood Friends

It was the middle of winter in Gotham when she showed up. A tiny girl everyone guessed to be about three. She never spoke or made a sound, but she often smiled, even on the coldest nights. The little girl would just curl up to whoever had taken her that day and smile. At first the other homeless believed she'd never make it to spring. But the little girl was full of surprises. Not only did she survive the worst of the winter, she thrived once spring arrived.

Everyone knew she had a name, no one knew what it was, but they knew she had one. They also knew she was old enough to know it. Surprisingly, no one ever tried to give her a new name. Sure she got nicknames. More nicknames than a toddler could ever hope to keep track of, but somehow she did.

The little girl grew. As all children must. And the older children and adults always made sure to enunciate whenever she was in the area, hoping to teach her how to speak. They all banded together, like they always do for the especially young kids, and kept her away from the worst of the drugs, gangs, rogues, and the overall darkest parts of Gotham.  She grew, and most people started calling her Pixie. Their little fairy caused laughter and mischief wherever she went. Even still she rarely spoke, her words as few and far between as they were, were always impactful to whoever she spoke to.

When Jason Todd started living on the street, everything changed. Pixie stuck to his side like glue. She laughed, she started talking, Pixie acted like the entire five years she had been living around Gotham she had been solely waiting for Jason to show up. The ones who raised her would have felt jilted if it hadn't been for how happy the little girl looked. Two years passed and the two ten-year-olds rarely left each other's sides.

Then Jason stole the hubcaps off the Batmobile and Pixie was finally picked up by CPS.

Pixie had to be strapped down by CPS so that she wouldn't hurt anyone. Luckily for her, a young French couple had been passing by when they saw what they were doing, and demanded to adopt the young girl. CPS didn't want to deal with the girl for much longer and agreed. When Tom and Sabine found out she didn't have a name, they quickly named her Marinette Dupain-Cheng and decided her birthday would be the same day they adopted her. 

The newly named Marinette was quickly taken out of Gotham and out of the country as the couple returned to Paris.

She never knew that Jason had been adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Jason was picked up by Batman and quickly adopted by Bruce Wayne. Before long he had taken up the mantle of Robin and was fighting crime.  He looked everywhere for his friend but no matter who or where he asked, no one had any idea. As the months passed, Jason lost hope for ever finding Pixie again.

He would never know that she had been picked up by CPS and adopted by a Parisian couple and taken back to Paris.

In Paris, Marinette always appeared happy, and her new parents were always busy but tried to make time for her. Marinette had taken to wandering Paris. She wanted to be familiar with her new city, even if Tom and Sabine didn't always agree with her new habit.

When she started school, Marinette stayed quiet. Friendly, but quiet. This made her a prime target for the mayor's spoiled daughter Chloe. Marinette allowed it to happen and did nothing to change the status quo. three years passed in this way until suddenly Marinette was seated next to an extremely outspoken girl named Alya, who would absolutely not stand for the status quo, so Marinette filled that space, doing what she'd always done since she'd come to Paris molded herself into what everyone around her wanted. The same day she met her new deskmate, and self-proclaimed bestie, Marinette also became one of the two heroes of Paris, fighting an emotional terrorist who thrived on negative emotions (and just being from Gotham made her a prime target). Marinette became Dame Nuit, with her partner Mister Bug.

She listened to everything Plagg told her, especially the warnings and consequences of using the Black Cat Miraculous.

For the next four years, Marinette would fill every mold she was placed in. The hero, the Guardian, the class president, the perfect baker's daughter, everything. 

Then the consequences started showing up. Marinette knew she had to wrap up Hawk Moth and Mayura quickly. She started pushing it so much that Mister Bug called her out one night and in a single moment of weakness she told him what was happening. What her Miraculous was doing to her.

Mister Bug immediately wanted her to stop and let him give the Miraculous to someone else, but Dame Nuit shut it down saying that even if she stopped now, the damage was done and nothing would change that. In fact, using the Miraculous, while it had started the process, was actually slowing it down. Mister Bug cried when she told him that.

Together they redoubled their efforts to bring Hawk Moth and Mayura down. Of course, Mister Bug insisted on bringing in more permanent heroes, under the guise of keeping one of the two things Hawk Moth was after out of the fight. Dame Nuit then argued that it should be the Ladybug because it's the one that can fix everything which just left them going in circles. But even still she conceded to his request for more backup.

Within six months, Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur had been stripped of their Miraculous and Paris was free to feel their emotions once more. All the Miraculous were returned and Marinette and Adrien revealed their identities to each other.

Adrien stuck to Marinette's side and became an unofficial brother. He helped her as the build-up of chaos in her soul took a physical manifestation, and began to destroy her 

A year after Hawk Moth's defeat Marinette's entire class was granted a trip to Gotham City.

Marinette would have laughed at the irony if she didn't know it would probably be the last place she saw. It was strangely comforting to know that the city that held her most precious memories would also be the place that would hold her last.

In Gotham, Jason grew into a young man. He discovered the woman he thought was his mother wasn't. He tracked down his real mother, then got beaten half to death by the Joker only to be blown up by one of Joker's bombs.

Jason died.

Then Jason was revived by the Lazarus Pits and trained by the League of Shadows. He grew to hate Batman and wanted nothing more than to see the end of the Joker. 

Years later, Jason would return to Gotham only to find he had been replaced and that the Joker was still running free, and alive. Jason tried to kill the new Robin, a kid named Tim Drake, Batman, and the Joker. He managed to end none of them.

Bruce convinced Jason to stick around and one thing led to another and Redhood became part of the Batfamily patrol rotation. He doesn't stay in the manor but he does drop in at least once a month for family dinners at Alfred's request. On the weekends, Jason would take Tim out and teach him how to spot a sniper, an assassin, what different guns look like when someone is trying to hide them, and most importantly, how to defuse a bomb. It becomes a bonding time for the two, but Jason still calls Tim 'Replacement' but now as a term of endearment.

He never forgets Pixie and she is one of the few things that kept him sane during the worst of the Pit Madness.

Then Damian shows up and Jason has no idea how to deal with the tiny Demon Spawn. It's rough going for a while but they all found their ways of bonding and before long they are one large dysfunctional family. 

When Jason turned eighteen, he, Dick, Tim, and Damian welcomed a French class to Wayne Industries for a week-long tour. And that is where he thought he saw someone he would never see again.

Without his permission, Jason called out to her, "Pixie?" It was barely a whisper, but she heard it.

Her head whipped around and she stared at him, "Jason?"

He wanted to say it was a happy reunion. And it kind of was. They hugged. Her class and his brothers stared. Then the tears started. Pixie was smiling but tears were streaming down her face.

One of the other students came over and asked her in French if she was okay. Pixie shook her head and the blond boy asked if there was somewhere she could rest. Jason offered to show them a room. The three of them sat in a quiet room as Pixie cried. She kept leaning into Jason and he wasn't about to stop her. After who knows how long, Pixie dried her eyes and haltingly told Jason what was going on. She told him, how she'd been adopted and went by Marinette now. How she was dying and no one besides Adrien, the blond, knew. How she probably wouldn't make it out of Gotham.

Jason's first reaction was to want to hurt something. His second was to hold Pixie as close as he could and never let her go. Jason cried. 

For the rest of the week everywhere that Pixie went, Jason was close behind. The other Waynes noticed and on the fourth day of their stay, invited Pixie and Adrien to join them for dinner.

There, a not-so-subtle interrogation went down, asking Pixie how she knew Jason. At which point, even Pixie's failing health allowed her to spill so many childhood stories about Jason that even they couldn't resist her knowledge. In return, Jason told Adrien stories he had collected about her as a toddler and little kid. It was the brightest smile Adrien had ever seen on Marinette, and the first real smile Pixie had given Jason all week. He could almost pretend that she wasn't dying.

After dinner Pixie said, "Jason, did I ever tell you about the dream I've had ever since I was a little girl?"

"What dream Pix?"

"I've always wanted to stand at the very top of the Wayne Industries building at dawn, and feel the wind at the top of the world."

"Really?"

Pixie smiled a soft sad smile, "Yeah. Do you think we could do that tomorrow?"

Jason suddenly realized what Pixie was talking about, and had to fight a lump in his throat to answer, "Yeah. Pix. Yeah, we can do that."

Adrien and Pixie stayed the night that night. That morning at about three, Jason woke them up and took them to the top of Wayne Industries. Pixie stood as high up as she possibly could. Adrien and Jason watched her with tears in their eyes. Before long, they were joined by Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin, who all wanted to make sure she wouldn't fall. Jason didn't have the heart to tell them they couldn't stop what was about to happen.

As dawn started to creep up on them, Adrien broke down sobbing, begging Marinette to fight a little longer. When the light hit her head, Marinette closed her eyes and smiled. They all saw her start to fade.

Her hands went first. Like dust. As the light increased so did her fading. Before she faded completely, Pixie walked towards them a peaceful smile on her face. Jason was crying now too. His Pixie looked like a ghost.

And as she faded completely, everyone on that roof heard her say, "My name is Jeanette. It's so nice to meet you!"

[9worldstales]

MCU “Thor: Ragnarok” - The elevator scene

So I’ve heard that Tom Hiddleston’s interview “Tom Hiddleston Looks Back at 10 Years of Loki | Entertainment Weekly” has sparked some discussion…

…because, when talking of the elevator scene Tom said Thor had been honest in it, sparking the joy of who enjoyed that scene which is one of the few emotional moments of the movie between the two in which Thor says something ‘nice’ to Loki (I think that scene is actually one of the most well known and popular about the movie) and the disagreement of who remembered that Thor used that moment to place an obedience disk on Loki’s back, an obedience disk that basically tortures who wear it once it’s activated… and Thor later activated it when Loki attempted to betray him, and left it activated, abandoning him in that hangar where the grandmaster, which he knows has no qualms to melt people who disappoint him, could find Loki. The fact that Korg finds Loki first and free him from that torture is mere luck on Loki and on Thor’s part as Loki will then bring Asgard a ship large enough to save all the Asgardians.

Long story short, a part of the fandom felt that Thor said such words to cause Loki to lower his guard so that he could place the obedience disk.

So I wanted to share my two cents about it.

But first let’s look at the full script for it.

Thor: Hey, so listen, we should talk. Loki: I disagree. Open communication was never our family's forte. Thor: You have no idea. I've had quite the revelation since we spoke last. [The door opens, revealing a bunch of guards. Thor and Loki heft up two Sakaarian guns.] Thor: Hello! Loki: Hi! [Thor and Loki BLAST all the guards, moving to another door.] Loki: Odin brought us together, it's almost poetic that his death should split us apart. We might as well be strangers now. "Two sons of the crown" set adrift. [A guard tries to ambush Loki through the door. Thor TAKES OUT the guard.] Thor: Thought you didn't want to talk about it? Loki: Here's the thing.

[ELEVATOR. Thor and Loki are going up.] Loki: I'm probably better off staying here on Sakaar. Thor: That's exactly what I was thinking. Loki: ...Did you just agree with me? Thor: This place is perfect for you. It's savage, chaotic, lawless. Brother, you're going to do GREAT here. Loki: Do you truly think so little of me? [Thor pauses, considers his brother. Then:] Thor: Loki, I thought the world of you. I thought we were gonna fight side by side forever. But, at the end of the day, you're you, I'm me... I don't know, maybe there's still good in you, but let's be honest, our paths diverged a long time ago. [Loki is wounded by Thor's willingness to discard him. Masks his feelings with:] Loki: It's probably for the best that we never see one another again. [Beat. Thor pats Loki affectionately on the shoulder. Hold on Loki. Did Thor just get through to him?] Thor: That's what you always wanted.

Yeah, I included the bit prior to it because it kind of introduced the scene. And as the obedience disk scene is also part of the discussion, let’s look at it as well.

Loki: I know I've betrayed you many times before, but this time it's truly nothing personal. The reward for your capture will set me up nicely. He triggers the alarm. Thor: Never one for sentiment, were you? Loki: Easier to let it burn. [But then Loki sees Thor holding up a fob device. Loki realizes that Thor affixed an Obedience Disk on him in that heart-to-heart moment.] Thor: I agree. [BZZZT! Thor ZAPS Loki and HOLDS DOWN the button. Loki HITS the ground, WRITHING in pain. Thor approaches. Pause.] Thor: Oh brother, you're becoming predictable. I trust you, you betray me. Round and round in circles we go. [Thor continues to "think about it" for a beat while Loki convulses in agony on the floor. Finally, Thor kneels down:] Thor: See, Loki, life is about, it's about growth. It's about change. But you seem to just wanna stay the same. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you'll always be the God of Mischief, but you could be more. I'll just put this over here for you. [Thor places the fob on top of the security panel, so close but so far from Loki's paralyzed reach.] Thor: Anyway, I got places to be so good luck.

Okay, now with these scenes in mind, let’s go and see how Tom comments the elevator scene.

The elevator scene, in “Ragnarok.” The dialogue was… was scattered across these different… places as they were trying to escape and find their way through. Taika said: “Guys, do you know the rest of the scene?” and we both said: “Yeah.” He said: “Maybe we should just do... do one where we just do all of the dialogue here in the elevator and you haven't really had a chance to catch up and maybe you should just talk to each other,” and Thor… is quite honest with him. And I think it really affects Loki, he thinks ‘oh actually maybe… maybe I got this wrong, maybe I did have a place in that family. Maybe… maybe this guy is my brother,’ but it was a really enjoyable scene because it was just a very quiet moment with Chris in a very calm space in a big colourful spectacular film. [“Tom Hiddleston Looks Back at 10 Years of Loki | Entertainment Weekly”]

So… is Thor being sincere? Or just being manipulative?

When one look at Thor’s sentence there’s a thing that hit me:

Thor: Loki, I thought the world of you. I thought we were gonna fight side by side forever. But, at the end of the day, you're you, I'm me... I don't know, maybe there's still good in you, but let's be honest, our paths diverged a long time ago.

At Loki’s question ‘Do you truly think so little of me?’ Thor doesn’t say ‘No, I think the world of you.’ He says he THOUGHT the world of him. As in previously he thought the world of him and we can speculate this previously refers to before he stopped considering him a ‘brother’ something that happened likely in “The Avengers” according to “Thor: The Dark World”, probably when Thor told him they could stop the Chitauri together and Loki stabbed him.

Thor: I don't. Mother did. You should know that when we fought each other in the past, I did so with a glimmer of hope that my brother was still in there somewhere. That hope no longer exists to protect you. You betray me and I will kill you.

And I can believe Thor used to love Loki before all that, so he’s sincere in saying that, back then, he thought the world of him.

Now, I know there’s people who think Thor didn’t properly appreciate Loki in “Thor”, especially when he used the pretty unlucky sentence ‘Know your place, Brother’ but also when, in a cut scene, he waved away Loki’s contribute to the victory saying ‘Some do battle, others just do tricks’ but this is exactly the point.

Thor’s ‘sin’ in that moment is his vanity, his arc in the movie centred on him learning humility.

Thor loved Loki, same as Kevin Lomax, in “The Devil’s Advocate” loved Mary Ann. There’s quite a good quote in that movie.

John Milton: I rest my case. Vanity is definitely my favorite sin. Self-love, the all-natural opiate. It's not like you didn't care for Mary Ann, Kevin. You were just a little more involved with someone else: yourself.

Thor also in the first half of the movie was more involved in himself than he was in his brother. Or his friends. Let’s remember Fandral got hurt and it was Loki and Volstagg which helped him, while the Thor is described by the script as busy fighting the Frost Giants, his bloodlust rising, with Loki and Sif both telling Thor they’ve to leave instead.

Loki: Thor, we must go! [Thor, still without his hammer, fights his Jotun foes mercilessly, a man consumed by blood lust. Loki sees the look on his brother's face -- the savage thrill of the heat of battle.] Thor: Then go! Sif: There are too many of them! Thor: I can stop them! [The others hesitate. Jotuns break up through the ice all around them.] Sif: Thor! [But Thor ignores his comrades, continues fighting.]

When they’ll be back to Asgard it’ll be Odin who’ll say Fandral has to be taken to the healing room, not Thor, something that the movie will technically address when it’ll show that Thor, once back to Asgard after he learnt humility on Midgard, will be the one to tell his friends to bring Heimdall to the healing room.

in “Thor”, Thor had to be a bad brother due to his vanity… but this doesn’t mean he was an unloving one, just one who might have thought the world about Loki… but thought the whole universe about himself and thought more about himself than he ever did at Loki… because he was vain.

Sadly although most of the second half of the movie is set up to prove Thor is the opposite of how he was before, they never quite manage to prove he would have an opposite dynamic with Loki. He tries to save him twice, and clearly didn’t want him to let go, he tells his brother not to let go, he’s the one who screams when Loki does anyway, while Odin merely says a quiet no which wasn’t even in the original old script, but, unless we consider the fact he accepted Loki to be the king to exist to be the opposite of ‘Know your place, Brother’, this is maybe the only aspect in which the movie doesn’t prove Thor now has a reverse mentality (I’ve listed all the scenes the movie had or was meant to have that proved how Thor made a 180° turn in another meta if someone is interested).

But whatever, Thor’s ‘Loki, I thought the world of you’ was clearly meant to be the truth, Thor used to think so of Loki, the movie is just skipping on the part he wasn’t so good at showing it because in “Thor” Thor was a vain boy.

And it’s likely also the truth how Thor said ‘I thought we were gonna fight side by side forever.’

In “The Avengers” Thor not only insisted for Loki to come back home but also for them to fight together against the Chitauri.

Thor: Look at this! Look around you! You think this madness will end with your rule? Loki: (tries to look away) It's too late. It's too late to stop it. Thor: No. We can. Together.

And the fact they used to fight together is implied in the already mentioned cut scene of “Thor” as well as again, in “The Avengers”.

Thor: We were raised together, we played together, we fought together. Do you remember none of that?

So yes, Thor for a while thought they were gonna fight side by side forever, then things in “The Avengers” went downhill and by the time “Thor: The Dark World” comes around he refuses to acknowledge Loki as his brother… even though he still needs him.

There’s no lies in Thor’s words, he said something he thought before Loki’s fall, that he and Loki would always fight together, on the same side and, all considered, he had no reason to think otherwise. He had no idea things would take a turn for worse so of course he would think Loki would continue to fight at his side. The old script and the novel implied the original plan prior to the coronation was for Thor to rule and for Loki to be at his side, offering him counsel.

Odin: Do you think he's ready? Frigga: He thinks he is. He has his father's confidence. Odin: He'll need his father's wisdom. Frigga: And his humility? [Odin reacts.] Frigga: (cont’d) Thor won't be alone. Loki will be at his side to give him counsel. Have faith in your sons. Odin: Yes, but Thor's still a boy. He could be a great King...

So yes, in this too Thor is sincere. He assumed Loki would stay at his side. He had no reason to think otherwise.

The last bit though, ‘But, at the end of the day, you're you, I'm me... I don't know, maybe there's still good in you, but let's be honest, our paths diverged a long time ago’ is just Thor basically letting go of Loki. Loki is not him, maybe there’s good in Loki, maybe he’s just evil but anyway he isn’t going to be a hero like Thor. As he said before, for Thor, place like Saakar, savage, chaotic, lawless, is perfect for someone like Loki.

Is he being manipulative here? He’s rejecting Loki knowing Loki actually needs Thor to tell him he needs him?

Well this is what Hemsworth said Thor was thinking about Loki:

One of the more fascinating parts of the franchise has been the relationship between Thor and Loki… How do you continue that relationship without repeating what you’ve already done before? Hemsworth: Without giving too much away, I didn't want to repeat that relationship either. And Tom felt the same. All of us were like, ‘What can we do again here?’ There’s a bit of reversal as far as... In the first films, a lot of the time you’re seeing Thor going, 'Come back Loki, and da-da-da-da.' [But now] there’s a feeling from Thor that’s just like, 'You know what, kid? Do what you want. You’re a screw up. So whatever. Do your thing.' [Chris Hemsworth ‘Thor Ragnarok’, Embracing the Comedy, the Thor-Loki Relationship and More]

Loki is a ‘screw up’. He’s no more someone he thought the world of. He doesn’t think anymore they would keep on fighting together. He doesn’t care.

And this is what Waititi said.

Hewitt: For Loki, he might actually be the most emotionally independent of the movie, and I love that the big emotional epiphany comes when one brother is essentially electrocuting the other? Ah- Waititi: *chuckles* Hewitt: *chuckling* Yeah. But there’s a speech to Loki that Thor gives about change and about how you should change, that’s the first time I think Loki’s ever really listened. Waititi: Mm-hmm. Hewitt: From what we’ve seen, you know, there are moments in this movie where, you know, the betrayal takes place as you might expect, and then you begin to move it on beyond that and the character actually begins to change. Ah, can you talk about... progressing Loki, I guess, as a character? Waititi: Yeah. Yeah, well I feel like we were- You know, we didn’t want to change him too much because he was so popular and the fans love that version of him. We wanted to keep- we needed to retain who he is, because when you start changing all of the characters and just doing it for the sake of change, you know, people can’t handle that and definitely fans can’t handle that. So you know he was one of the few characters that we, you know, that we changed and so I made sure that- *pause* -that the main changes that were gonna happen there were to do with the brothers, and to do with their relationship, because I think people wanted to see that arc end on a satisfying way and culmination of all these films and all of the events being that Thor and Loki finally found some sort of way of co-existing without Thor always saying, “Loki, stop this madness! Come hooome! Oh, you can do better!” Instead of pleading with him, just, you know, I feel that’s the most mature version of these guys, you know, is to say to him, “Man, it’s cool. You keep doing what you’re doing, I’m- You know, I don’t need to change you. I’ve all the other stuff to concentrate on, that change thing is up to you, I’m not gonna- I’m sick of, like, pleading with you to, you know, to change your ways.” And I feel like giving that decision to Loki and letting him make that decision for himself was actually the most satisfying version of those have been. [“Empire Podcast Spoiler Special Thor Ragnarok with Taika Waititi”]

To be honest most of the discussion more than about the elevator scene is about the electrocution scene and the first part is Hewitt’s interpretation but Waititi does not disagree. Anyway the root of the discussion is that, according to Waititi, Thor isn’t trying to get Loki to change his mind, Thor is just done with Loki, which fits not just with the electrocution scene but also with the elevator scene. It’s not a very loving message.

If I were to question Hiddleston’s interpretation, I wouldn’t disagree on Thor being honest, I would just find weird that Loki had reacted to such words thinking ‘oh actually maybe… maybe I got this wrong, maybe I did have a place in that family. Maybe… maybe this guy is my brother,’ for two good reasons. One is that Thor spoke not in present simple but in past simple, so maybe that guy WAS his brother, now he doesn’t care about him anymore. As he said in “Thor: The Dark World” Thor has again renounced him. The second is… the electrocution scene, which starts with Loki betraying Thor.

Yeah, I know there are fans who interpret it as Loki not wanting Thor to die fighting Hela which I TRULY love because sometimes fans have better interpretations than the authors on why the character do what they do, but, skipping that the idea of handing him to the Grandmaster who could very well melt him wasn’t that bright (but whatever, Loki could still think he’ll manage to persuade the Grandmaster to let him alive and use him to replace the Hulk), this clearly wasn’t Waititi’s intent.

Waititi didn’t correct Hewitt when he talks about the scene and how that’s the first time Loki’s ever really listened. In Waititi’s intent the elevator’s scene is just an addition, something in which Thor and Loki talk to each other because they hadn’t had the chance to catch up before the electrocution scene that would remark how Loki is again betraying Thor but how Thor this time has grown and can predict Loki’s betrayal and be ready to strike back and even give him the speech that will cause Loki’s change of heart. Long story short, the elevator scene was an afterthought, what was meant to be included was the electrocution scene because on that scene was supposed to be rooted the idea Loki would change.

And of course this is a HUGE problem, because if you, up until a moment before, were willing to sell your brother to someone like the Grandmaster for money, the fact that he electrocute you and leave you writhing in pain on the floor, KNOWING if the Grandmaster finds you empty handed he will melt you… well, this normally wouldn’t inspire you to have brotherly feelings, speech about having the potential for being more or not.

Long story short, the idea that Loki would go to save Thor and the Asgardians DESPITE that, merely due to Thor’s pretty speech, doesn’t really feel that logic at all, never mentioning that something that gives you enough pain to cause you to crumble on the floor and be unable to move might not help you to be an attentive listener.

I’m not even sure why there’s this idea that Thor was always ‘come back, brother’ since in “Thor: The Dark World” Thor definitely wasn’t asking him to come back, he was actually giving up on him in an even more drastic way than he did in “Thor: Ragnarok”…

Loki: You must be truly desperate to come to me for help. What makes you think you can trust me? Thor: I don't. Mother did. You should know that when we fought each other in the past, I did so with a glimmer of hope that my brother was still in there somewhere. That hope no longer exists to protect you. You betray me and I will kill you. [Loki smiles]

It’s not said solely in the script, this is what Hiddleston said about Loki in “Thor: The Dark World” as well:

…and in a way reverse the arc of the character. Because he’s always defined himself in opposition. Thor has always been offering an olive branch. ‘Come back. We forgive you. Come back.’ And it’s Loki’s kind of arrogant privilege to say ‘No. I still hate you.’ And…in this film I think…nobody’s offering the olive branch. He’s in prison, condemned to be written out of history, forgotten, unseen, unheard, and haunted by his demons. You have to change at that point. So that surprised me. How far further down does he go before he hits rock bottom? Is there one for him? And…could he come back up? [“Nov 2013 Hiddleston Interview: Commentary on the Commentary (and much more)“]

…and yet, in “Thor: The Dark World”, despite his brother saying he previously held back when fighting because he hoped his brother was still there (a clear hint he loved such brother) and that now he no longer believes in such hope, Loki didn’t sell him to the Dark Elves and even stopped the Kurse from killing him, which lead him to be stabbed… and mind you, originally the wound was meant to be fatal… but whatever, this is a discussion for another post.

Anyway basically what Thor told him back then… is more or less the same he told him in the elevator scene so Tom Hiddleston’s explanation about how this would AGAIN affect Loki would make sense if it wasn’t for the electrocution scene that gets in the way.

On another note the Junior novel is apparently based on an older script for “Thor: Ragnarok” and in it things work a lot more better.

There’s no elevator scene or electrocution scene. The two brother had a talk in which Thor bares his soul to Loki and encourages him to change as well.

“You’ll help us free Asgard from Hela’s grip when we arrive? I can count on you?” Thor asked. “Of course. After all, I’m sure you blame me for her resurgence. It’s at least I can do.” Loki appeared contrite. “Although, I am curious, why the sudden change of heart to become Odinson and assume the throne?” “It is what is needed to defeat Hela. Therefore it is my duty,” Thor said plainly. He let out a small sigh, his voice almost apologetic. “In the past I demanded the throne when I hadn’t earned it, and then refused the throne when Asgard needed me most. You stole it. Twice.” “Yet you are always forgiven,” Loki said, trying not to sneer. “My point is that our self-centered conflict over Asgard has ruined our kingdom. We have been so focused on fighting for the top we’ve forgotten there’s a middle and a bottom. If I’m to be king, then I want to be a custodian, not a conqueror.” “Why the sudden baring of your soul to me?” Loki asked. Thor turned to his brother. “Because I want to change. I want to be better. And I think you can, too. Helping us escape has shown you can take strides toward that.” He looked at Loki earnestly. “Make a fresh start, brother. It’s time.” [“Thor: Ragnarok - The Junior Novel”]

While this bit is clearly not perfect (especially since there are some canon mistakes) it contains the same idea that Loki should change and be more that is also in the electrocution speech, but it’s way more love inspiring than having your brother leaving you wriggling in pain on the floor.

Thor doesn’t try to pass himself for a perfect hero but admits his faults as well as the wish to be better. This dialogue continues with the theme of “Thor” in which Thor tries to be worthy and, in opening his heart to Loki and saying they can both improve could have reminded him again they used to be brothers who loved each other and their own country.

But, okay, I’m digressing.

On another note… it’s clear they expected Tom Hiddleston to say something nice about “Thor: Ragnarok”. I know there’s a huge part of the fandom who would just love if it were to respectfully disrespected but, for start, I don’t think that’s Hiddleson’s style and, anyway, he wouldn’t be allowed to do so. Not only “Thor: Ragnarok” was successful but Waititi is now directing “Thor: Love and Thunder”. Marvel clearly counts on it to ride the success of “Thor: Ragnarok” and be successful as well so it’s not like they’ll want us to forget it or allow Hiddleston to speak poorly of it.

Still there are some interesting things to point out.

The first is that Hiddleston spoke about the other movies a lot more than about this one. It’s around 1 minute commenting versus the 1 minute and a half of the other 3 movies and he mentions just that one scene while in the others we see more than 1 (I’m obviously skipping “Avengers: Infinity War” and “Avengers: Endgame” because Loki’s role in the was way too small to discuss it at length).

Long story short, while Hiddleston doesn’t say anything against “Thor: Ragnarok” he clearly didn’t have much he wanted to say. He focused on what to the audience felt a nice moment about Thor and Loki and then moved on.

The second scene is that in the montage of the video they cut part of Thor’s sentence so that all the viewers hear is “I thought we were gonna fight side by side forever. But, at the end of the day, you're you, I'm me... I don't know, maybe there's still good in you, but let's be honest, our paths diverged a long time ago.”

Basically they left out the “Loki, I thought the world of you.”

Maybe it’s a coincidence but still it’s interesting they didn’t realize they were cutting the most emotional line of that bit.

Whatever, it happens.

Anyway, for what’s worth, those are my two cents on the whole thing.

[t-o-m-hollands]

Summery: Tom is part of the Firm, a fearless London gang. You knew each other as children, before everything changed. Now your paths cross again.

Pairing: Tom and y/n.

Themes: Mob!Tom, Peaky Blinders inspired, period piece – this is set in 1961, London.

Warnings:  This story will contain themes such as kidnapping, murder, violence and smut. Also a lot of swearing. Also descriptions of injuries. Death of characters (never tom or y/n). Also alcohol, smoking and mentions of drugs.  this is a +18 story

Trigger warnings for this chapter: Smut in this chapter.  Sort of dom/sub vibes but nothing extreme. female oral, male oral. unprotected sex. smoking. mention of gun. one single spank. Sort of edging.

A/N: This is a relationship that I wouldn’t recommend in real life. Also, the Firm was the name of the Kray twins gang. I was just too lazy to come up with a name of my own.  

READ PART I HERE

READ PART II HERE

READ PART III HERE

READ PART IV HERE

READ PART V HERE

London, 1961

                                                       ***

                           my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder

                                                jeff buckley

                                                       ***

On a hard mattress, in a dusty room in Mile End, Tom makes you honey-voiced promises in-between kisses.  

“One day I’ll take you to the Ritz” he says as he’s moving his way down your body, leaving sweet wet kisses in his wake.  

“I’ll have them fill the bathtub with pink champagne and we’ll swim in it until we’re loose-limbed and starry eyed.” He places himself in-between your legs. Lifting your tight he kisses you open-mouthed on the sensitive skin.  

“I’ll feed you dark and ripe and sweet cherries directly from the stem. You’ll never have cherries again without thinking of me. They’ll never taste the same after.” He bites down of your soft flesh, though just teasingly so; the sensation sending bolts of pleasure up your spine.  

“I’ll dress you in silk, and lace, and pearls and diamonds” he continues before blowing hot air on the tiny bite mark and involuntarily you moan, not expecting it to feel as intense as it does. He smirks up at you. 

His hair is a mess. You imagine yours is as well. You’ve been at it all night, only stopping for short intervals of sleep before one of you would start grinding against the other again. You’re sore all over, in a way that makes you feel blessed.  

“Like a gentleman I’ll take you to the nice hotel bed” he says as he cups your cunt, teasing you; unnecessarily so since you’re already wet and ready for him. You buck up against his hand but he just removes it. 

“Then I’ll fuck you like the bastard I really am” he finishes, lightly spanking your cunt, not with a lot of force, but with an open hand. 

“Tom” you whine.  

“Princess?” he teases, a grin on his face.

“I want to taste you” you say and watch as his face freezes, his eyes moving down to your lips.  

“Really?” he asks, somewhat stunned.  

In response you shove his chest gently, until he’s laying on his back beside you. You move, so that you’re in perfect position. You peek up at him through your lashes and he looks at you with something like amazement in his dark gaze as you lower your head closer to his cock. You can see the muscles in his stomach tensing in anticipation. You place your hand around him. He’s thick. Pulling the foreskin back you lick him around the crown. A sharp intake of breath from Tom, and then you place your mouth around his tip and you suck.

Slowly you learn to take more of him down your throat. In between efforts there’s wet and playful licks around his shaft, one of your hands around his girth; moving up and down, the other hand teasing his balls. You wish you could take all of him inside you. You suck on his tip, where he’s leaking precum, and you find you love the musky taste of him. He has a hand in your hair, not forcing you down; just gently holding on to you, almost as if in support. He’s helping you find a rhythm, moving his hips in the pace you set. Broken sounds and groans falling from his lips unrestrained. He’s calling you his good fucking girl. He’s getting closer, you can tell, and he’s so hard in your fist. You suck him harder. His thrusts get wilder and the hand in your hair turns into a fist as he holds on to you for dear life. His groans and moans grow louder and louder and something like a whimper falls from his lips as you finally manage to take all of him down your throat. When you do you look up at him and meet his eyes.  

“Fuck” and his voice is a broken sound “gonna fucking come” he warns, releasing his hand from your hair, giving you the option to pull away. You don’t, and he comes down your throat and you swallow every drop of him, sucking him all the way through his orgasm.  

You lay down beside him on the bed. You can feel how your cheeks are flushed and you bite your lower lip, looking at him with a grin. His chest is heaving, his eyes half-closed.

“Fucking hell” he says, almost in disbelief. He turns to look at you with dark, bewildered eyes. “You know, you look so sweet and innocent. Was worried about corrupting you, you know? But now I’m starting to think you’re the one who’s corrupting me”. He reaches out a hand and cradles your face, before pulling you closer with his other arm, pressing you tight against him. His naked body is warm against yours. He strokes with his thumb over your cheek and it’s gentle and sweet and a feeling flutter like the wings of butterflies in your stomach. The exact same feeling people have been singing about since they knew how to sing. You take in his face. Freckled skin stretched over white bones, dark eyelashes framing his sleepy star-filled, caramel eyes, crinkling at the sides as his thin lips widen in a smile.

He holds his arm around you, holding you to his chest, your foreheads pressed together. Like this you fall asleep for a few hours.  

*

It is raining outside. 

Maybe it had always rained, even as he held you and fucked you against the wall in the living room. It seemed a meaningless detail to have noticed at the time. You had been to occupied with Tom, too full of him. For all you would have cared the world could have crumbled around you.

You look at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Your lips are swollen from kisses, your eyes still heavy with sleep and you wonder if the blush will ever fade from your cheeks. Washing your hands you walk out to rejoin Tom in the bedroom.  

It’s early afternoon now. He had woken you a few hours earlier. Had brought a plate and a knife and a pomegranate to bed and you had watched as he cut the fruit wide open, spread it out in front of you. He fed you the sweet seeds along with excuses for not having anything else to offer you. 

It was messy and raw and delicious. Juice dripping down your chin and he’d kissed you clean.  

Raindrops are crashing against the window in the bedroom as well and it’s blowing up a storm outside. The walls are of a faded green pattern, and the only furnishment in the room a wrought iron bed and beside it a wooden bedside table, on which lay an ashtray, a copy of Goethe’s Faust and a gun.  

And on top of the bed is Tom, still without clothes, and smoking. He’s unashamed in his nudeness; not attempting to hide any part of himself but laid back against the white pillows, cigarette in hand. For a second you stay on the threshold, just observing him. His wide muscular shoulder and defined stomach; a happy trail leading down to his partially erect cock.  

You’re lay down beside him, lean against his shoulder. You’re fucked out and exhausted; your whole body still numb from bliss. The wind blows even harder outside, the windows rattling from the force of it, and you shiver. Tom stretches out his arm and picks up the blanket from where it’s been discarded on the floor and he throws it over you, covers his own lower body with is as well. For a while you lay there in silence and listen to the storm.  

“Who did you lose it to?” he asks at last and blows out smoke into the room.

“Lose what?” you respond, confused.  

“Your virginity” he says. He doesn’t sound intrusive or insistent, just curios. “I mean, we went to the same school after all, did I know him?”

“Yeah” you say, hesitantly, “well, after you left school I went out with Jamie for a little bit”.

You feel his entire body tense beside you. “Jamie Easom?” he asks, disbelief clear in his voice. You don’t look up to meet his gaze, though you can tell he’s angled his face towards yours. Instead you keep your eyes on your blanket-covered feet.  

“In his car” you admit “when we were seventeen”.  

He huffs, and maybe you’re imagining it, but you think the arm around your shoulder tighten slightly. Otherwise he seems unfaced as he drags in another breath from his cigarette.

“Can I taste?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

He raises his eyebrows but looks amused. “You never tried it?”

You shake your head in response. “Daddy would have lost his mind if I came home smelling like smoke”.

His smiles widen and the corners of his caramel eyes crinkles. “You won’t like it, you know. No one does, not at first”.

“Then why do you do it?”

He shrugs. “It sticks with you”

“I just want to try it” you press him.  

He sighs, “alright” he says, though there’s still a slight hint of amusement to his voice, lacing his words, “just one drag”.  

Slowly he moves his hand to your lips and you see faded cuts and scars all over his knuckles, his brown eyes sparkling as he looks down at you. His other hand is cupping your face, stroking your cheek. You place your lips around the cigarette and inhale smoke. It feels dry and warm in your throat but somehow you manage not to cough as you blow the white smoke out into the air.  

You wrinkle your nose and look up at him. “Taste awful” you admit.  

He smile widens, “told you so” ha says and moves the cigarette away from you, placing it between his own two lips again.  

You snuggle up closer to him, and his arm tightens around you.  

After that first night you’d met part of you had wondered if maybe you’d made him up. Wondered if he truly excited. If a man like him really could exist; so full of opposites. It was as if he was more than mortal man. More smoke and mirror than person; more idea than human being.    

You want to unwrap him, un-layer him; spread him open and make sense of him. You want to understand him and see through the smoke and facade.  

You touch his chest and feel a heartbeat underneath, steady and slow.  

“What did you think of me, back then, when we were in school?” you ask, because you’ve always wanted to know. With your hand on his chest you wish you could count the heartbeats it takes for him to answer, but it is an impossible feat.  

“Thought you were too good for the likes of me” he says and takes a final draw from his cig, before putting it out on the ashtray. “Thought you were too good for the likes of Jamie too” he says and the smile he gives you is laced with something tender you don’t yet have a name for.  

“Thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen” he says and smiles. “Used to dream about you all the time.”  

“That’s not true” you say before you can stop yourself, because honestly, the idea of him having wanted you already then feels unfathomable.  

“You calling me a liar?” He asks, eyebrows raised as he looks at you, mock stern written all over his face.  

“Well, what did you use to dream about then?”  

He’s silent for a while as he takes you in, eyes dancing over your features. Then he moves a hand down under the blanket, and cups your cunt with it. He leans down until his mouth is against your ear and he whispers, “I used to dream I could kiss you here”. Gently he presses his finger over your clit.

He pulls off the blanket guides your bodies until you lay spread out in front of him. “Used to wonder what you’d taste like, if you’d taste as sugary as you look”. He leans down and licks your slit, and you want to whimper. He licks you again and he groans.

“Fuck, you taste just like heaven”. He kisses the inside of your thighs, the slight stub on his cheeks burning your skin in the best way.  

“I used to lay in bed at night and wonder how you’d like it” he confesses, before giving your other leg the same treatment, leaving kisses little love-bites all over your skin.  

“I thought l’d start off slow, just kissing you here first” he continues and looks at you, spread out as you are for him, with hungry eyes. Then he does kiss you, in almost a gentle way he presses his mouth to your cunt, just dipping his tongue inside, before really going in for it, almost fucking you with his tongue. You bite your lower lip as you watch him, his mop of brown, dishevelled hair in-between your legs.  

“Or maybe you’d want me to suck you right here” he says and moves his mouth to just above your clit. “Maybe you’d want me to flick it with my tongue until you’re so wet and desperate for my fingers you’ll beg me for more.”  

He licks your entire cunt with wide strokes before moving his mouth back to your clit, pressing the gentlest of kisses against it. “I laid in my bed and i thought, circles” he continues, “just around, and around, and around, and around; slow and steady until you’d claw my back and your back’s arching and you are screaming for more. Until you won’t even know your own name, just mine”. He blows hot air on your aching bud and you buck up against him instinctively. Looking up at you he smiles cockily. 

“Tom, please” you beg, desperate for more; for his tongue, for his fingers, for his cock, for anything.  

“Please what?” he asks. Then he places his mouth around your clit and he sucks. 

Your back arches and your tights tighten around him. “Please, fuck me” you beg.

“No” he says and smiles smugly. He moves up until he’s hovering over you, his face just centimeters from yours.  

“You kept me awake all night, rubbing up against me and begging me to fuck you. Begging me to fuck you harder and faster. To fucking come all over you”. His voice is hoarse and low and he inserts first one finger, and then another inside you, spreading you open. He’s looking at you with hungry eyes. 

“Begging me to fuck you again” he starts to pump his fingers, in and out of you, “and again” he twists them, hitting your spot and for a second everything goes white as sheer pleasure goes thunders through you, “and again”. You’re a moaning mess and he smiles down on you, mouth in a crooked grin. 

“You really are a wicked fucking girl, aren’t you?” he murmurs in your ear. 

He moves his long fingers faster, fucks you with them in such a speed all you can do is buck your hips against him and beg. Beg for him to please, please, please fuck you.  

But the more you beg the slower he goes with his hand, all the while wearing a Cheshire cat grin. You slap your hands against his chest in frustration; buck your hips up against him even higher.  

“Now, now” he says in a warning. He grabs hold of your hand, stopping it from slapping his chest again. His other hand keeps torturing you; continues to push his long fingers in and out of you. His brown locks fall over his face and there’s a glint of mischief in his warm eyes. He really does look devilish.  

“You’re just like a little kitten, aren’t you?” he says huskily, pressing his fingers against the sweet spot inside you, but with nowhere near enough pressure. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm that will shake your entire world and he knows it, is intent on keeping you there, just on the brink of it. You can feel wet running down your slit and pool in-between your legs and honestly, you would have felt ashamed if you hadn’t been so turned on. You have never known desperation like this. 

“You’re all big eyes and teeth and claws when you want something, aren’t you?” He adds, before he leans down to kiss you, it’s opened mouthed and wet and slow. You bite his bottom lip, hard enough to show him that yes, just like him you’re all teeth and claws when you want something badly enough.  

He pulls away, still smiling down at you with that smug face. “No one ever told you princess? You catch more flies with honey than vinegar”.  

“Please” you beg again because it seems to be the only word left in your brain, the need to come having destroyed everything else. Your voice is thick with want.  

“Say pretty please” Tom says, kissing your jaw, continuing to massage your g-spot with his fingers.  

“Pretty please” you whine as you try to buck up against him again.  

You can feel him smile as he kisses your throat. “Say pretty please, Tom”.  

“Pretty please, Tom”  

He moves away from your neck and looks down on you again. His cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling, dark curls askew and wicked smile in place. You finally know why they call him the devil’s boy.  

He moves his thumb over the outline of your lips. They are swollen and wet from his kisses. He’s examining the handiwork.  

Then, in a lower voice he says, “say pretty please Tom, fuck me so hard I forget I’ve ever met Jamie Easom”. 

He grinds the fingers inside you both faster and harder, wet slapping sounds filling the room as he hits just the right spot every time. He moves his thumb over your lip again, resting the rest of his hand against your throat. “Say pretty please Tom, fuck me so good I can never have sex again without thinking about you.”  

It’s like there’s a live wire inside your body, sending out sparks of pure unadulterated pleasure. It’s like you’re looking up at him through a cloud of nearly painful bliss.

You repeat his words.  

He removes his hands from you and in a swift movement he flips you over before grabbing you around your stomach, pulling you until your back is pressed flush up against him. He guides himself inside you a mewling sound fall from your lips and a low groan from his. With a hand around your throat, not pressing; just holding you there, and the other on the place where both your bodies meet.

“Alright?” he asks, the single word coming out breathless and rough in your ear.  

You nod feverently, and honestly; had you felt more at your senses you would have laughed, for alright didn’t cut it. Alright didn’t describe the ticking bomb inside you, waiting to go off and leave you in a state of white bliss. You place your hands on his, over your throat and on your cunt and together you start moving.

Like this he fucks you. Moves you up and down his hard length until your both fighting for air, a thin layer of sweat covering your bodies. And outside the winds grow stronger and the rain fall harder, though you both ignore it. And in the living room a phone keeps ringing and there’s a banging on the dooor, though you both ignore it.   

The entirety of the world has been reduced to is his body, moving in and out of yours.  

Wet slapping sounds as you move against each other. His hand on your throat, his groans in your ear, as his rhythm grows wilder and thrusts grows harder. Your hand, placed over his; placed over your clit, moves in rapid pace. You’re both touching you and his groans in your ear grow louder and your whimpers more desperate.  

“What’d you need?” he asks, his voice so low and gruff in your ear, his south London accent clearer than ever.  

“Harder” is the only thing you manage to press out between mewls of pleasure.

He lets go of your body, pushes you forward until you’re on your hands and knees for him and with his hands on your hips he slams in to you; one time, two times, three times.  

And then the whole world goes white as you come around him.    

***

In the other room there are hushed voices. You stir, feeling disorientated for a few seconds as you look around.

Tom is gone, and you are alone in bed.  

You look around for your clothes but then remember that your dress still lay discarded in the living room. So you pull up the sheets around you, making sure you’re completely covered, and you open the door.  

Tom is standing in the hall in just his trousers, facing a blond man your age with a bandaged shoulder. They both have frustrated looks on their faces and they were clearly in the middle of a discussion, but upon hearing the bedroom door open they both turn to face you.  

The blond man’s eyebrows raise as he takes you in, naked part from the sheets you’re clutching to your body, hair askew and dark hickeys all over your neck. Then he looks to Tom and the claw marks he has all over his chest and back. 

“This is why you didn’t come back to give your report to Fabien?” he says to Tom. “For a fucking shag? Do you have any idea how fucking livid he is with you?”

You can’t see Tom’s face, as he’s turned to face the other man again, but it’s like the air in the room changes in the silence. Like the very atmosphere around the brown eyed boy is loaded with silent threats.  

“How about you let me deal with Fabien, Haz? Yeah? Like I’ve always been able to do”. His voice is low and quiet, yet chills travel down your spine. “So how about you go down the car and wait for me and I’ll come with you in a minute, alright?”  

Haz doesn’t answer, but throws you a last glance before heading out the door. He hadn’t looked annoyed or angry, but rather he’d looked at you with eyes full of curiosity. Tom closes the door behind his friend, leans his forehead against it and sighs heavily.  

Then, head still pressed against the closed door he mutters “sorry, I gotta go”.  

“Can I stay?” you ask, trying not to sound as hopeful as you feel.  

“Your daddy will be wondering where you’ve gotten to” he says, turns around and walks right passed you and into the bedroom, where he picks up his shirt and suspenders and begin to pull them on.  

“I’ll call and tell him I’m sleeping at a friend’s house” you say, though you hate how desperate it comes out. “He never asks any questions.”  

Tom sighs again, sit down on the bed and begins to lace up his boots. “Sorry, but I’ll don’t know how long it’ll be until I’m back. It’s better if you leave.” You can’t help but notice that he’s avoiding your eyes. “So put on your dress and me and Haz will see you safely home, alright”.  

It’s the way he says ‘alright’. He had sounded the same when he was speaking to Haz out in the hall. It wasn’t a request, it was an order. He takes the gun from the nightstand and place it in his holster, hides it under his jacket.  

You clutch on tighter to the fabric around you, and bite your lower lip to keep yourself from crying. “Will I ever see you again?” you ask, voice trembling slightly.  

A final sigh, and then he’s standing in front of you, fully dressed and ready to take on the world all on his own again, while you’re here clutching on to a blanket and trying not to weep. He cups your face; makes you look him in the eye. He looks sad behind his stoic façade.  

“No” he says eventually. “No, not if you have any luck”.  

[fanficparker]

A GAME OF DIAMONDS AND HEARTS // H.O.

>> CHAPTER FOUR

“The life that you seek you shall never find. For when the Gods made man, They kept immortality to themselves.” - The Epic of Gilgamesh

(Frenemies to Lovers! Mob AU! ) Harrison Osterfield x Fem!OC

Word count: 2.47k words

Warning: Swearing, knives, anger issues, guns, handcuffs, kidnapping (kind of?), Harrison Osterfield (Yeah, that's a legit warning)

Synopsis: After the sudden death of his uncle and the eccentric multi-millionaire mafia king Lufian Clarke, Harrison Osterfield’s almost decent life is mostly devastated especially when half of what should be rightfully his fortune is transferred to their immediate rival for reasons he doesn’t know. What’s remaining is him trying to figure out how to deal with this collaboration of two rival corporations that don’t belong together and work on the side of the woman he never knew would ever be referred to as his partner in crime while they are dragged into a mess bigger than what they were trained to handle.

<< THREE [ MASTERLIST ] FIVE >>

Sandhya parked the car at the rear side of an autobody workshop next to a white pickup truck that resembled closer to junk than any actual mode of transportation. It was past ten when she pulled there, and the three people Harrison spotted in the shop were on their way to shut it down for the night's call. He had managed to keep a careful eye at what turns she took as the roads forked or what landmarks she crossed on her way, only to achieve practically nothing. He was a stranger to this place and she being the wicked witch she was, had driven in circles so many times that he was sure, she had managed to complicate the path for him in manners that his head failed to unravel.

"We are here, homies." She announced, yawning at the last part, tapping her palm over the dashboard, tugging the keys from the ignition and then pulling the hand brakes.

Kevin groaned, shuffling in his seat, eyes half-lidded, voice groggy with sleep. The women sitting beside him plucked off her earphones, shutting her laptop. Harrison, on the other hand, chose to inspect the unfamiliar surrounding in the comfort of the car, eyes sceptical and narrowing. He ignored the thud of car doors opening and closing only to be disturbed by a sharp noise of metal keys hitting the window on the other side.

He squirmed at the unpleasant sound and turned to look at the intruder as she leaned across from him, on the opposite side of the car, the neon signboard of the car workshop flashing red light over her face. She looked like an angel from hell.

"Are you moving out? Or should I rather lock you up here?"

Harrison tamped down the urge to roll his eyes and stepped precariously out of the car, rolling up his sleeves and buttoning them near his elbows. He followed the three people as they walk down a slope that connected to an underground parking lot. There were a few cars and motorbikes parked there, most seemed to be in a dire need of repair. It took him roughly two minutes to figure out that it was no underground parking. It was a whole ass hideout disguised on the front with unused motors. They walked into a narrow alleyway, passing through several closed doors of what he assumed were rooms to a living area attached to a kitchen. It wasn't well furnished but furnished enough for a stay. Gray unpainted walls, sofas, tables and chairs, fridge, microwave, a small but flattering shelf full of wine bottles and a CCTV monitor to the top corner that covered the outside of their hideout, all the necessities one needs to survive.

"Hey, we will need your phone and your watch." The other woman he didn't know the name of yet, matched his pace, her laptop tucked below her arm, her green hair shorter than his with a cool undercut to the sides. She looked equally chill and nerdy in her baggy checked shirt, a mixture foreign to him.

He paused on his way, casting her a scathing glare, a bored look wiping over his face the next instant, "And why would I give you that?"

"Because Holly needs to encrypt them," Sandhya replied for her, standing beside the taller girl.

"So that it isn't traceable." Holly reluctantly but quickly added. She was younger than them, probably around Harry's age. Harrison could feel an undercurrent of fear floating through her voice.

"Thank you very much, but..." Harrison replied, not missing a beat, shooting a bitter smile at Sandhya before facing Holly, uttering: "No," his lips forming a proper 'o' as he took a step away only to be stopped by Sandhya's hand grabbing his wrist.

"It's not a choice, Harrison." She asserted.

An order.

Something sour lathered at the back of his tongue. A vein in his forehead twisted. Anger? Resentment? Malice? You just name it. He felt all of them at once.

He jerked away from her grip, releasing his arm. When he turned to face Sandhya again, his entire aspect had changed. His shoulders were square and broad, posture imposing, features stone, eyes icicles. They exchanged a long, threatening glare, eyes never wavering. He took a step ahead, expecting her to step back but she didn't recoil, holding her ground. She had the sort of personality you associate stereotypes with: high cheekbones, tall stature, sharp features but she somehow managed to defy most of them. Without her heels and now wearing some flat running shoes, she barely reached his chin, there was something warm about the softness of her features hidden beneath her belligerent attitude. The little baby fat her genetics had blessed over her face, provided her preys with false hopes of mercy. Betrayal at its finest.

He looked down at her and she looked up at him, their shoes bumping, faces inches apart. Realisation ticks through her mind when she looked a second deeper into his eyes.

He was, perhaps, stalling.

Her neck snapped to the monitor embedded at the top corner of the living space.

Shit.

A car had stopped outside their hideout and two armed men emerged from the car, strolling towards the basement.

She identified one of the men. His men.

"Look ou--" She tried to yell but Harrison didn't allow even an ounce of air to escape from her lungs. He'd grabbed her shoulders swiftly, taking advantage of her diverted attention, squeezing her shoulder blades and twisting her body. Her back flushed against his chest.

Both Kevin and Holly grabbed their pistols, the clicking sound of safety pins dropping echoed in the enclosed space. They pointed the weapon at Harrison but he already had a pocket knife pointed at Sandhya's throat while his other arm was pressed beneath her neck, holding her still.

"Keep your guns down or this floor would bathe in her blood." He warned, poking the tip of the knife into her skin, eyes focused on the pistols.

Kevin and Holly hesitated, their eyes flickering at Sandhya's face. Something passed between their eyes, some sort of permission and they threw their guns down, sliding them away from their reach.

"Hands above your head, quick." Harrison added, "And place them on the wall, face the other side."

Holly and Kevin obeyed without questioning, pressing their palms to the walls, while Harrison bent to pick up their pistols, shoving them at the back of his pants, holding Sandhya on a chokehold.

"I'd warned about your men's involvement in Clarke's murder," she whimpered when he placed the blade near her skin again, getting to his feet, "Yet you let them trace our location," she somehow managed to finish the sentence.

"You speak a lot for someone millimetres apart from dying."

"You won't kill me." She said, gritting her teeth.

"Yeah, but I can hurt you," he whispered near her ear, "And we both know how much I'd like that." His warm breath fanned over her cheek as he dug the pointy edge of the blade to the pulsing side of her neck, pressing not enough to cut her but enough to terrify her.

"Arsehole." She muttered, sucking in a breath.

"Tell me something new." His lips twisted into a devilish grin as he dragged her outside, her loose hair tickling under his chin, his arms clenched so tightly around her that she was sure she would still feel them tomorrow.

"I am telling you..." She tried to breathe and speak.

"Sssh..." Harrison interrupted with a shush, the vibrations moving through her flesh, echoing through her bones.

She tried to ignore the effect of his voice on her spine, suppressing the chilling sensation. "We are on the same team," she whispered softly and carefully as if trying to lull a toddler into handling back their parents' important work files.

"Oh well, then I should be the one giving orders."

They walked to the front of the basement. She could spot the shadowy outline of the two men waiting.

She started trying to resist, wiggling her body in his grip.

"Hey, Hey! Behave. This blade won't spare. Don't blame me."

"Let go, Harrison. Your life is on the edge!" She wiggled harder.

Edge.

He couldn't stop but laugh at the irony in the metaphor she chose.

They reached his men and she stilled in his grip. A white man, she identified as Tom (as Harrison had previously pointed out) and the other man she didn't identify was black and taller than all of them, both standing like soldiers in front of her.

"This is Tom. And this is Tuwaine," he introduced his men.

"This could be dangerous for both of us." She was almost pleading now, eyes pooling with tears of irritation and of failure.

"We don't want to kill her," Tom said, passing Harrison a pair of handcuffs.

And here she thought she had the lead.

"Why do y'll keep telling me that?" Harrison groaned at Tom's advice. He had repeated it over, even Sandhya has said the same thing, twice.

"Do I look like a psychotic killer on a killing frenzy?" He grabbed her wrists, fastening the cuffs behind her back, gripping her upper arm. "I know well who and whom I am supposed to hurt, how and where." He clarified, gently pushing her to sit on the back seat of the car. She obeyed this time, having no choice.

"It's not easy to trust you," Tuwaine added.

Harrison nodded, trying to look offended, "Thanks Tuwaine, I needed that," getting into the car, along with her, keeping a good distance between them. He snorted when she swirled her neck to the other side, refusing to look at him.

Tom settled himself on the driver's seat and Tuwaine sat beside him as the car drove off.

***

The giant gates of the mansion she'd only seen from far away opened like butterfly's wings, welcoming the car where she sat as a hostage.

"Aren't you delighted seeing this place?" Harrison asked in a tone that was closer to mockery than curiosity.

She still refused to look at him yet could hear the smirk in his voice.

"The place you won in the lottery? Or shall I say, cheated--"

"Fuck off." She interrupted but he went on like a guide, ignoring the cuss—

"The second luxurious property in England, just next to the Buckingham Palace."

She chose to ignore too. The main doors to the estate were wide open. Two women came rushing out when the car came to a halt. One of them opened Sandhya's door, pulling her out, holding her forearm, the other pulled a pistol and a knife from her dress.

"Release her," Harrison said nonchalantly, tossing the keys of the cuffs to the first woman. She unlocked the metal and Sandhya pulled her hands from the woman's grip, rubbing her fingers around her wrists.

She walked in, eyes in the front as Harrison and the crew accompanied her.

"Take her to the guest suite." He said and the same woman nodded.

Before she could grip Sandhya's arm, she moved it away, rushing to Harrison, grabbing his shirt collars with both her hands.

"I'd planned everything so intricately and you... You just ruined it all." She spoke with clenched teeth, eyes glistening with emotionless tears. "Do you--Don't understand the gravity of the situation? We are literally playing with fire." She exhaled forcefully.

He chortled.

Playing with fire?

He had committed various mistakes today, more mistakes than he could recount, more mistakes than he could afford. He had let his emotions get the best of him. He had not inspected Clarke's body, then went to beat Dino's men without even being careful of the various other dangers he could cross paths with, then chose to accompany Sandhya alone, got into a life-threatening car chase, had a sniper pointed to his head.

On top of that, he had also failed to consider the disastrous change the mafia world would go through upon the King's death. Damn, he had already played with fire and it was enough for him.

With Clarke's death: The mafia world has never been so free and so trapped. So vulnerable yet so lethal.

Harrison had discovered that for himself. He fucking knew the gravity of the situation! And that's why he chose to take matters into his own hands. He could trust nobody. Especially her.

"You really need to stop with your habit of holding collars." He held her hand in his, thumbs tracing circles over the back.

She continued to search his face, dark eyes filled with disbelief.

"We will work my way. And..." his face hardened at the conjunction, his thumbs stopped their ministrations as he squeezed her hands tighter. "And when I find your involvement in Clarke's murder, I would not hesitate to put a bullet through your skull."

She snorted this time, pulling her hands back.

"This is what you concluded? This? After everything?" She burst out into a peal of bitter laughter, the one that twisted Harrison's gut.

Her eyes hardened again as she jabbed a finger into his chest.

The next words came out as an unchecked storm out of her mouth, "The life you want, you will never get." Her words were merely whispers but worked their way through his gut, burning his chest, crawling through every fibre of his body and she never seemed to stop.

"You'll never be the next Clarke, you'll never even be half of him. Maybe," she hiccupped, "Maybe, he knew that and that's why he chose me, he chose me over you because he knew how incongruous you were."

She took a step forward, her chest pressing against his, standing on her toes, directly meeting his eyes and raising her voice beyond the point of normalcy, "How you were an insult to his legacy!" Pausing to exhale, she continued, her voice back to low, "It was a pity that he gave you half of his kingdom. You didn't even deserve that. You'll never be him. You are nothing like him."

Harrison bit back his tongue, his icy eyes burning from the lack of blinking. The mansion was dead silent, no one had dared to speak or react. He clenched his fists tight, feeling his nails digging into his palms.

"Take her to the room." He instructed, voice barely above a few decibels. He didn't wait for his words to turn to actions, rather he turned on his feet, striding towards his room, jaws tensed, nerves popping through his burning flesh.

His footsteps echoed behind him.

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…TO BE CONTINUED…

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