#i am sorry is that after 13 seasons straight of that I am so relieved whenever that happens

[snarkylinda]

No to be an simp in main but as if Matt Simmons couldn't get more attractive- HE LISTENS TO SPENCER RANTS WITHOUT LOOKING ANNOYED OR WEIRDED OUT

[misslilli]

Hope you guys are not too busy with Fictober 😄 thank you, as always, for your amazing feedback!

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 26 - A Pivotal Peppermint Mocha

[ DS ]

He respects my wishes, of course he does, and I don’t see him before or after Thanksgiving break, except for a few glimpses from afar, across the school yard or at the farmer’s market. As time passes, each time I see him, it gets less and less painful and my funk begins to lift. My kids at school breathe a sigh of relief and my friends stop tiptoeing around me. The nights get easier, too, and I manage at least a few hours of shut-eye.

I just got home from school, a little earlier than usual and I can hear the girls chatting and laughing in the kitchen.

“…and then Squirrel rolled her eyes and said: ‘But Felix, that’s impossible, no-one can stuff 100 marshmallows into their mouth, not even your dad!’ I get such a kick out of this kid, he insisted over and over again that Moose could do it and he’ll prove it to her. You should’ve seen the exasperated look on Squirrel’s face!”

What the hell? That conversation is eerily familiar because I’ve just had it this morning at recess. Why the fuck are they referring to us as Moose and Squirrel?

They jump about a mile as I step into the kitchen, guilty looks plastered all over their faces. Sarah, who just told the story, starts to speak first. “Uuuh.. hey D, you’re home early…” My hands on my hips, I give them each a long, hard stare.

“Who. The Fuck. Are Moose and Squirrel?” They share a look I can’t decipher and Holly pulls out a chair.

“You better sit down for this, D.” I do as I’m told and glance around the table, waiting for someone to start explaining what’s going on.

Sarah and Holly both make it clear by silently staring at Alex, the calm one of our group, the one they trust can explain in a way I won’t kick their asses afterwards.

Alex folds her hands in front of her and takes a deep breath. “Okay. I’d like to preface this with stating that everything we did was done with love and because we care about you and your happiness.” ‘Oh goody, I can’t wait to see where this is going…’

“We’ve been talking about Moo- Mulder a lot at our Friday night dinners and we could tell that you liked him. When nothing happened and no-one made the first move, we thought we’d give fate little pushes in the right direction.” I stare at her, starting to panic.

“Oh God, what did you do? Is anyone else in on this thing? Is he in on this whole thing?”

“No, no, no-one knows except for us. And Miss Hannigan, but only because we needed her help with the costumes and we swore her to secrecy.” I snort, you can’t swear the town gossip to secrecy.

“So the Halloween costume was your doing? That we went to the town fair in a couple’s costume?” Alex nods. “What else?”

“Just little things, I swear. Remember when we were at the Farmer’s Market and we all had various errands to run? We saw Felix and Mulder were heading over, so we scattered to give you some alone time.” Which led to our first quasi-semi-let’s not call it a date-date, yes I remember.

“So what’s the Moose and Squirrel business then?”

“Well, since it was all a secret operation, we needed codenames. Sarah came up with a play on the first letters of your last names and we thought it was cute, especially since there’s such a big height difference between these characters too. This was how Operation: Bullwinkle was born. Of course, after the basketball fiasco, we called it off… are you mad, D?” I sit in silence for a while, taking in the things my friends came up with to set Mulder and I up.

They eye me anxiously, trying to gauge my reaction and if they should run for cover right about now.

“No, I’m not mad. It was actually a really clever secret operation and I’m kind of sad it didn’t work out the way we all wanted.” Holly lifts her shoulders, relieved that I understood that they didn’t mean to cause any harm.

“Never say never, D.”

—————

[ FM ]

My mom has taken Felix with her while she’s out grocery shopping, which gives me a good part of the afternoon to leave the house and roam the streets. A good way to clear my head. It’s the first week of December, but New England hasn’t been graced with snow yet, just a misty cold that seeps into your coat and straight through to your bones.

My hands are freezing because I forgot to take my gloves, so when the green logo of the local Starbucks catches my eye, I go in to warm up and get a cup of coffee.

Usually, I avoid this place like the plague, I don’t possess the fast decision making skills required to choose from the 999 combinations, just to have a cup of freakishly overpriced coffee.

I can barely get through the door, the place is jam packed and soon, I can smell why. Peppermint Mocha season starts today. The prospect of standing in line for hours almost makes me turn back, but something stops me from leaving.

Most of the people are holding a cup in their hands gleefully already, so I push my way through the crowd to where the line starts. When I reach it, I find myself dumbly staring at the back of a fiery head of hair, a shade I’d recognize anywhere in the world and in the most crowded places.

Shi-hit, does this break the ‘giving space’ rule? No, I’m just getting a cup of coffee on a cold winter day, no big deal. I don’t even have to talk to her. Yeah right, who am I kidding?

—————

[ DS ]

I’m way too excited about the start of Peppermint Mocha season, so here I am, in a place packed with people, patiently waiting in line to finally get my hands on that glorious to-go cup of Christmas Spirit.

I’m next in line when the person in front of me turns a little too quickly, making me take a step backwards to let them pass, bumping into the person standing behind. I mumble a “I’m sorry!” over my shoulder and freeze when I hear a familiar voice respond with an “Don’t worry about it.”

Counting to ten in my head before I turn my head, I come to face with a grinning Fox Mulder, who adds “Fancy bumping into you here!” His silly pun elicits the first genuine smile I’ve given in weeks.

“Technically, you didn’t bump into me, I bumped into you.”

He grins even wider and nudges my shoulder with his index finger. “There. So, I’m new in town, what’s good here?”

I order my Peppermint Mocha with sweet cream foam and an extra espresso shot while he pretends to gag, he orders his black coffee to my snort and the barista’s comment on what kind of first name ‘Mulder’ is. We move to stand at the end of the counter to wait for our coffees.

“Sometimes, I just want to tell them my name is Bob, just so I don’t have to explain Mulder or Fox to another barista.”

“Don’t ask me how many time’s I’ve been Donna, Danny or Dinara and one time, Daniel. I think they do it on purpose. At least yours is easy to spell, Eff - Oh - Ex.”

“Oh I bet you were a regular hit at the spelling bee, with those mad skills of yours!”

“I’m a woman of many talents, Bob.”

The barista calls out our names, ‘Peppermint Mocha for Daisy, black coffee for Mouldy’ and we reach out to accept our respective cups. Pushing out way to the crowd, we continue our conversation.

“Daisy? That's not even remotely close to my real name… but Mouldy is freaking priceless!” Her giggle at their slip up almost makes it worth it to have a shitty first name.

“Yeah, yeah, make fun of the guy with the funny name. I kind of like Daisy, though, it’s a pretty name!”

I’m so happy to see that we turn to head in the same direction, strolling along the crowded sidewalk, sipping our coffee. I have to walk pretty fast to keep up with his long strides.

“It is, yeah! So tell me, Eff- Oh- Ex, how much flak did you have to take way back in the day, when “What does the Fox say?” came out?” I shudder at the memory.

“They didn’t tease me with it. Much. Just a lot of ring-ding-dingalinging. It became a thing in my friend group, whenever they asked me something, they’d add ‘So what does the Fox say?’. It went on a long time and they still do it sometimes, when we get together, just to drive me nuts!”

“I hope for your sake that Felix never discovers that song, he’d have a field day!” Oh God, she’s right. Must keep him away from it at all costs. At my panic face, she laughs an evil laugh. “We do listen to a lot of music at recess…”

“Oh no, you wouldn’t!” I point an icy finger at her. “Promise me you wouldn’t!”

“Well, it does have a lot of educational material in it, with all the animal sounds…”

“I’ll have you know that you hold my sanity in your hands, handle with care!”

“I hear they have a lot of fun pills at the asylum, maybe I’ll come visit so you can sneak me some!”

We come to stand at the junction where we have to part ways and she raises her cup.

“Have a good day, Mouldy!”

“You too, Daisy!”

—————

[ DS ]

I think about the strange but fun encounter all the way home, the world didn’t end like I thought it would when we met again and it was a rather pleasant conversation. Like a conversation between long-time friends, even though friendship is not exactly what I’m looking for here. But it’ll have to do, for now. It’s just nice to talk to him again.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Light Fingers (The Umbrella Academy)

Diego’s vigilantism brings him repeatedly across the path of a young cat burglar. But as he finds himself developing feelings for the thief, he begins to wonder if there’s more to her than meets the eye, and whether they’re really on opposite sides. And as their relationship deepens, it brings with it a plot involving his estranged adopted father, and threatens to destroy all of them.

CHAPTER 13: DARKNESS FALLS

Word Count: 2362 Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Reader Rating: T Content Warnings: swearing, references to violence (canon-typical), heavy angst, sort of spoilers for TUA season 1? Cross-posted to AO3: here

Previous Chapter: Confrontation || Masterlist

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Two weeks after your visit to the Academy, and everything that followed, a headline caught your eye as you poured coffee for a couple at the diner. ‘Eccentric Billionaire Reginald Hargreeves Under Federal Investigation. Crimes include Smuggling, Arms Dealing, Fraud’ screamed out at you in bold black print and you barely managed not to scald yourself as your hand trembled.

Your mind was racing. It hadn’t seemed real, when you were making phone calls and “visiting old friends” and whispering in the right, or wrong, ears. It was a stab in the dark, that you never expected to amount to anything. But it seemed like someone, somewhere, had listened and moved on D.S. Umbrella and your father-in-law.

A bubble of elation built up in your chest. Unable to contain yourself, you yelled out that you were taking your 15, despite the earliness of the hour, and jogged down the street to pick up a copy of the morning paper for yourself. As you scanned the article, more snippets jumped out: “midnight raid,” “suspicious and hazardous materials,” “illegal within city limits.” They also mentioned looking into his accounts, heavy investigation into recent break-ins at the warehouse that authorities suspected were to cover up evidence, and a re-examination of the adoption records for his now infamous Academy of children. That last one made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t wanted to drag Diego or his family into any of this, and certainly not risk having his world flipped upside down. Still, there was hope nothing would come of that bit, and he would never have to be involved, and everything else was well worth it.

With a giddy giggle, relieved and stunned that things were going better than you could have hoped, you tucked the paper into your bag and returned to work, feeling lighter than you had in a while.

~

“This is insane,” Diego said, dropping onto the couch, head in his hands and the copy of the paper you’d brought home on the table in front of him.

“Is it?” you countered, sitting down on the far end and tucking your knees up to your chest. “We knew he was up to something…”

“But not this! Why would he raise us the way he did if he was a criminal?”

“Covering his tracks maybe? Or there’s something bigger here we haven’t put together.”

“You’re not even a little surprised by this,” there was something flat to his tone.

You shrugged, knowing that he knew you too well to deny it.

“What did you do?”

“Technically, nothing.” He fixed with you a firm, unamused expression that made you sigh. “I just talked to people. Gossip, anonymous tips, that sort of thing. I didn’t really think anyone would listen.”

His jaw clenched as he struggled to reign in his anger. “Who else did you talk to?”

“A few journalists, some law enforcement that Patch put me in touch with who wouldn’t ask too many questions, some folks in my line of work. That one clearly didn’t go anywhere, or we would have heard by now, especially if there’s an investigation too.”

“Thieves?”

“No waitstaff.” You rolled your eyes.

“What for?”

“I thought...I figured if some other crews went in, free looting, it would make it harder to figure out what we took, cover our tracks some.”

“That doesn’t make sense. He already knew we were there. Y/N, what aren’t you telling me?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s done now. I’m sure nothing will happen, the authorities are probably in his pocket, and if not...Prison for someone like your father isn’t even that bad. It’s a penthouse, just one with a 24/7 guard at the door.”

Diego looked annoyed but didn’t say anything else. You bit your lip, the silence tense over the two of you.

“I’m sorry, Diego. I just thought...it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

He grunted in acknowledgement. A moment later, he stood, silently getting ready for bed, despite the relatively early hour, and went to bed without a word. You waited, fighting back tears, still curled on the couch. You didn’t expect Diego to be thrilled the way you were that something was happening with Reginald, but you also hadn’t predicted this anger.

“Y/N,” he called softly, an indeterminate time later, making you jump. “Come to bed, sweetheart.”

~

Things in the household felt fragile after that, even the dog could sense that both you and Diego were tip-toeing on eggshells, waiting for the outcome of the investigation, like the Sword of Damocles.

And then it dropped, with a breaking news bulletin, one that made you almost grateful that Diego had a late night at the gym. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shuddering, as you watched an all too familiar building go up in smoke.

“No one knows what, if anything, was taken by the miscreants seen fleeing the warehouse shortly before the explosion, or why they chose to destroy the structure so definitively,” the news anchor said, the rest of her words blending into a drone in the back of your mind.

At some point, you fell asleep there on the couch, waiting for Diego to come home, startled awake in the morning when the door slammed shut.

“Diego?” you asked, frowning and rising to greet him. “Are you okay?”

He laughed bitterly, shaking off your hand on his arm and stepping away. “You’re really asking me that, Y/N? After everything you’ve done?”

“What are you talking about, Diego?”

“I’m not an idiot Y/N.”

“No but evidently I am, because I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about, baby.”

“Don’t,” he growled, shaking his head again. “D.S. Umbrella. Thieves, an explosion. You’re honestly trying to tell me you had nothing to do with it?”

“I didn’t! Not...directly!” you protested. “I promised you that I wouldn’t go after him, so I called in friends who could, who would.”

“How is that any different?”

“I...you said yourself that he was dangerous, and he proved that to me. And I got scared okay? I panicked, and when I saw a solution, I took it. Torch and burn, and salt the earth seemed like a good idea.”

“And Luther? Was he part of your plan or just an acceptable casualty?”

“What do you mean?” your frown shifted from one of upset to confusion.

“Pogo called, last night. Dad sent Luther to the warehouse had he got caught in your friends’ chemical explosion. He’s lucky to be alive.”

There was a slight hitch to his voice as he spoke, and you knew that despite the years of tension between them, hearing such news about his brother had shaken Diego badly. And you hadn’t been there for him. You reached out for his hand, to comfort him as you usually would before recoiling.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen. No one was supposed to get hurt.”

Diego scoffed in disbelief, nostrils flaring angrily. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because I don’t hate your brother, and I had no reason to want that. Because your father was the one who sent him in, alone and probably unprepared even though he knew better than anyone what hazards were in there. Because I’m your wife, and I wouldn’t lie to you, not when it mattered. Because I never wanted any of this, I just couldn't sit back and do nothing.”

“Why not? And give me a straight answer this time, Y/N.”

“While you and Luther were busy getting out all your boyhood aggression or whatever, I tried to find answers just like we planned. Only instead I ended up having a nice little chat with Reginald. And he said that everything was staged, that it was an audition. That I passed. And he threatened you, and he called the Academy a failed experiment.”

“You never said anything to me.”

“I didn’t know how,” your voice was sharp, pleading. “I have even less answers than I did when we started. All I have is that your father didn’t care about you, but he did about me, for something. He was willing to let you die to test what I could do. He was okay with the idea of hurting you to keep me in line. I...I had to protect you. So I did the only thing I could think of to do.”

“We’re s-supposed to be a team.” His eyes were still dry, but you could see the pain written across his features, and you closed your eyes against the sight.

“I know,” you said softly.

“W-w-we could have figured it out t-to-tog-gether if you had ta-lked to me…”

“We tried that Diego,” you wanted so badly to reach out for him. You hated that you couldn’t. Not now. “It had us spinning in circles.”

"So you just shut m-m-me out?" His lip quivered.

“Would you have done any differently?” you gave up on even trying to keep your own emotions out of your voice, tilting your head in question as you looked at your husband, the man you loved, and said words that you knew were breaking both your hearts. “Honestly?”

He was painfully silent, lips pressed together and eyes downcast as he considered your words, and what his answer would be. Rather than let the question continue to stew, you forged onward, almost afraid of what would happen if you didn’t.

“I’m truly sorry that Luther got hurt, and glad he’ll be okay. But I still stand by what I did. It was the right choice to make. If anything, it worked out better than I had hoped.”

“H-how could you say t-tha-that?” despite his stutter there was outrage in his voice now, raising the pitch to almost a shout.

“If it’s him or you, as far as I’m concerned, there’s no choice. I’m not sorry for that.” You shrugged. “And maybe almost losing his last loyal son will be enough to get your father to back off, to rethink, stop doing...whatever it is he’s doing.”

Diego’s body tensed and his eyes narrowed to a glare, the full fury and hatred locked inside suddenly directed at you. There was no trace of the pain in his voice now and it made your blood run cold.

“Luther’s an asshole, but he’s m-y family.”

“I know that, Diego. And I know how much family means to you. That wasn’t how I—”

“You know, you’re starting to sound a lot like my father.”

You stared at him, aghast.

“You’ve been just like him this whole time, haven’t you?”

“What?” you couldn’t keep the break and horror from your voice, didn’t want to.

“All this scheming and planning. Using the rest of us as puppets. It’s all about the so-called greater good. And screw anyone that gets in your way.”

“Diego, that’s not—” You tried to pull your emotions back into check but couldn’t. Hot, desperate tears pooled in your eyes before spilling down your cheeks.

‘Not what?’ you froze to ask yourself. ‘Not fair? Not true? Isn’t it though? Wasn’t he completely right, that you and Reginald were circling each other, playing a game with each other? Lay a trap, dance away from it. Steal a piece of information, change it’s meaning. Capture a bishop, sacrifice a knight. Move and counter-move. For months now.’

“I’m going to the gym tonight,” he said, making a dismissive gesture when you remained silent for too long. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He turned on his heel, throwing a few things in a duffle bag haphazardly.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” you said quietly as you watched him pack, rooted in your spot in the living room.

“Of course it was a mistake!”

“I don’t mean things with your father or D.S. Umbrella,” you took a deep, shuddery breath. “I...I mean us.”

“What?” his voice dropped, all the anger leeching away as he hesitated in the middle of folding one of his turtlenecks.

You took a shuddering breath, “None of this would have happened if we hadn’t gotten tangled up trying to pretend we fit together, in each other’s lives.”

“Y/N. Stop.” He shook his head, words clipped and forced. “Don’t say that.”

“Say what Diego? What we’re both thinking? I love you, so much. More than I can possibly say. But...I don’t think that’s enough. I was...we were better off alone. Everyone was.”

“That’s not t-true.” He took a step toward you and you took a step back. He looked like the world had just dropped out from under him.

“Tell me I’m wrong. Please?” you begged, voice and lip trembling. “If you can say that, after everything I’ve done, after all of this, I’ll believe you. But...don’t say if it’s not true.”

“That’s it?”

“I don’t know.”

Your gut gnawed at you, the still image of the burning warehouse catching in the corner of your eye. It felt like he was going to forgive you, even for a moment, for that, for Luther, and you couldn’t fathom that. And the more you spoke, the more you found yourself meaning the words. You loved him, and he loved you, and that could only hurt.

“I should go,” he said, half-heartedly, almost asking you to stop him.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

His keys rattled as he picked them up, and the door closing behind him seemed louder than you had ever imagined possible. It felt like one of his daggers was protruding from your chest. You couldn’t breathe.

“Diego, wait!” you called shakily, throwing open the door but not quite chasing him into the hallway.

He stopped but didn’t turn around. Silence hung like a wall between you. Your tongue felt like lead. What could you possibly say to undo what you had just done?

The minutes dragged on, the silence unbroken.

With a sigh you could almost imagine wafting back to flutter over you, he started to move again, and you stood there until his back disappeared. Only when he was truly gone, did you sink to the floor.

“Goodbye Diego,” you murmured, the words trailing off into a sob.

[drreid187]

Tensions Are High (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Hii, this is my first xReader I've posted, I wrote it late last night and I'm not super proud of it but I wanted to get over my fear of posting my writing. Hope you like it!

Summary: Set in Season 13 Episode 1 (Season 13 SPOILER WARNING) When the team are looking for Emily. Spencer is extremely frustrated and angry because his brain isn't working as quickly as usual. Reader is there to help and he unfortunately takes it out on her.

Pairing: Spencer × Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing

“Agent Simmons, Agent Y/L/N thank you so much for coming, we need all the help we can get.” Penelope Garcia greeted both Matt and you when you stepped out of the elevator that evening. You knew that a lot of the team were in hospital and unable to work as well as usual.

“We'll do whatever we can to help find Emily.” You assured her, gently resting your hand on her arm, she kindly smiled at you.

You had worked with Emily briefly about a year ago and you were very fond of her, she told you that despite your young age you were one of the best new agents she'd ever seen. You had been in awe of her. It was heartbreaking to know that she was now in danger.

“Agent Y/L/N, Agent Simmons, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. We don't have time to do polite greetings, let's just get to work.” Garcia said, you smiled at Spencer, but his face remained blank and he looked down at the file in his hands. Garcia handed you a brown file of your own, and you followed Spencer to the board room where you sat on opposite sides of the round table, both silently muttering things to yourselves. Simmons was helping Garcia narrow down some things on the computer so you were alone with Spencer.

After 25 minutes of filtering through each and every detail, neither of you had said anything and eventually you stood up.

“I think that -” You began, but Spencer quickly cut you off.

“What do you think?” He said, his voice aggressive, “What could you possibly be thinking that would be helpful? You've been sitting there tapping your nails against the table, barely paying attention, playing with your hair, and frankly, acting like a teenage girl. You've done nothing but distract me for the last twenty minutes, and I don't need some kid agent trying to give me their bullshit input.”

You were extremely taken aback, you couldn't believe that these words were leaving Spencer's mouth, you had heard so many different things about him, none of them bad. You hadn't even noticed you were doing those things, they were involuntary to you. Reid's words had really upset you but you decided against inappropriately yelling at him like he had just done to you.

“I'm going to pretend you didn't just say those horrible things, Dr. Reid.” You said, walking towards the door, “Oh, and by the way, Dr. Reid, from what I know, you were once that ‘kid agent' that no one wanted a bullshit input from.”

You didn't even bother to look back at Spencer. You walked straight up to Garcia.

“B-Cap is short for Banisteriopsis caapi, it's often used as a hallucinogen in Ayahuasca.” I stated, dropping the file onto the desk. Both Garcia and Simmons looked up at you flabbergasted that you had come to the conclusion faster than the resident genius. You turned your head to see Spencer Reid with a look on his face that read as deeply shocked.

Two hours later

The team arrived back at HQ, with Emily safe and sound. They all gathered together, hugging one another.

“Y/N!” Emily's voice was full of joy when she spotted you, you moved towards her and she enveloped you into a big hug. “Spencer told me how you figured it out, thank you for saving my life.”

“Anytime, Emily.” You smiled and she pulled you into another embrace.

You were briefly introduced to Agent Luke Alvez who then informed you that Scratch had died. You were relieved knowing that someone with a history as violent and evil as his was finally gone.

“Agent Y/L/N, could I speak to you privately please?” You heard Spencer standing behind you and you turned and stared at him for a moment.

“Sure.” You said, following him back to the board room.

“I want to apologise for my behaviour earlier, it was extremely unprofessional and I said some horrible things that I didn't mean.” Spencer stood with his hands in his pockets and he looked up from the floor to you, meeting your eyes.

“Thank you for your apology.” You said, turning to leave.

“Y/N,” Spencer called out, switching to your first name. You spun around on your heel to face him.

“I-I have a long history with Scratch, my mother was abducted this year, I'm just out of prison and I know it's no excuse for how I acted but I really am sorry, Y/N.” Spencer said, “I'm really embarrassed, and I just want you to know that I don't see you as a teenage girl or some kid agent. In fact, I think you're wonderful.”

“Thank you, Spencer, I appreciate it.” You nodded, slightly smiling. “Maybe we'll work together again soon.”

For the first time that day, Spencer smiled at you.

“I really hope so.” He replied as you left the room.

Hmm… part 2?

[storytime-hoe]

Tough Love Ch.13

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x O/C

Summary: Story picks up during season three as the group goes into Woodbury to rescue Glenn and Maggie from the Governor. However, they pick up another prisoner of Woodbury, Emma (O/C). She is a thief who fears friendships after her hard losses. She stays on the move, studying communities from afar and then robbing them blind. She has stayed alive this way for a while until the Governor catches her in the act. Now she finds herself with the group from the prison in a mission to kill the Governor for what he has done to her. She plans on stealing supplies from the prison group after the Governor is killed, but she might be growing a little too close to the groups members, especially one man in particular: Daryl Dixon.

Warnings: Slow burn, language, usual twd violence, mentions of abuse/rape

Authors Note: Woah. I did not expect to be away for this long but if you do care about my excuse this time it was that I was going through some shit. I moved to college extremely far from home and it was a lot for me to take in. It’s a new environment and I don’t have any friends as of right now so I was in a dark state of mind. I still am struggling, but I am trying to force myself to get into routine again and to be a normal human being who knows how to smile and act like an adult. It’s rough.

Anyway, I am so sorry to leave that last chapter off on a cliffhanger like that. I am going to have the next few chapters up within the week (probably three days apart from one another) so do not worry about me disappearing again. But I live in a different time zone so it’ll be a little different from when I usually post, just a heads up.

That all being said, this chapter is a hot mess per usual, and I am sorry if some of it is contradictory or a confusing. I wrote it very rushed and I am not proud of that but please stay with me it’ll all get good soon. 

Previously: Ch.1       Ch.2       Ch.3       Ch.4     Ch.5      Ch.6     Ch.7       Ch.8       Ch.9       Ch.10          Ch.11        Ch.12

Tears had started to rim the edges of my eyes. The dead were clawing at the balcony's supports, but I couldn't do anything about it, despite Sasha and Glenn screaming at me to get inside the building and off of the collapsing platform. Their words were muffled out by the screams of the dead. 

I stared out in front of me like a statue, my world crashing down around me much like the first half of the balcony went crashing down.

My feet flew out from under me from the collision, but I was able to grasp the windowsill and clutch onto the building before the rest of the balcony went down on top on the Walkers. My chest heaved with the grief that was swirling around inside of me. With my mind a jumbled mess and motivation to live now out the door, my arms were quick to start aching as I held on to the window. They wouldn't be able to hold my dangling body forever and it didn't look like there was any other option except down into the filthy hands that would tear me limb from limb.

I wanted to open up the window, but it only opened from inside so I would have to shatter it, which is a lot harder than they make it look in the movies. A window is one tough bitch. No amount of pounding on it with the butt of my gun was breaking it; it didn't even leave a scratch.

With every swing I took at the window I felt my hopes dwindling away. I gasped out a desperate cry and the tears came flowing. This was the end. I not only made it my end, but Daryl's too, and possibly Sasha's and Glenn's if they couldn't get out of this mess.

A dark sadness washed over me. My arms were giving out. I felt my fingers sliding down the windowsill, the hungry cries of the Walkers getting louder, lulling me to them like sirens of the sea. It wouldn't be the peaceful death that I dreamed for at night. I didn't earn a peaceful death. I deserved to be ripped apart, just like Daryl had been, just like my brother had been.

I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath, readying myself to let go of the window and have the fate that everyone I loved always ended with. This was it. My time had come. After all the shit I went through; after surviving months at Woodbury. This was how I went down. I really was pathetic.

Before my fingers could slip from the ledge, a hand shot out from the window and grabbed my wrist so tightly that I yelped at the pain. When the collar of my shirt started to be pulled on, my first instinct was to fight whoever this was. My eyes shot open, and I writhed in the grasp of whoever had me. I figured it couldn't be anyone good, considering I thought my group mates were either dead or no where near me to be of any help, but I froze when I was yanked up high enough to lock eyes with a pair of squinted blue ones.

"C'mon! Le's go!" Daryl gravelly yelled at me, trying to shake me from my shocked state, his glare on me was the same one that he’d given me ever since our last argument. "Stop fuckin' aroun'," he growled at me while clutching at my form still half dangling out the window.

In any other circumstance I would have rolled my eyes. Stop fucking around? Really? Like I wanted to be in this situation for the shits and giggles? However, I refrained from saying anything, I was honestly too relieved to see him alive to form sentences. My brain was turning to putty at the sight of him and all human functions were shutting down in me.

Daryl yanked me the rest of the way inside the building with much effort, considering I wasn't being much help. I looked like an idiot gawking at him from the floor as he wrapped his arms around me to lift me to my feet. I held onto his arms like a lifeline, trying desperately to swallow down all the emotions that were itching to burst out of me.

I couldn't fucking believe he was back. He was here, in front of me, breathing and alive. I was so undoubtedly joyful to see him here again that I wanted to hug onto him and never let go, despite how mean and pushy he had been towards me the past few days. 

I ran my hands up his arms to his shoulders and eventually down his chest, trying to convince myself that he was actually here and not some sick dream or hallucination.

"Emma," he started, trying to get my attention, but my eyes darted wildly to every part of him. "Em," he said more urgently, grabbing my hands in his with a rough shake and forcing me to look into his eyes again. He was still a little cold towards me, but his eyes held a much softer look now as he spoke. "I'm 'ere, it's me. Okay? We gotta get outta 'ere."

I stared at him with watery eyes. He was right. I needed to get my shit together before I did get us killed, but my mind was just so cloudy that I couldn't think straight if I tried.

Daryl obviously didn't have time for me to snap back to reality as he gripped my wrist in his coarse hand  and pulled me down a flight of stairs and out the back door.

I wasn't the type of person to freeze up in situations, but right now I was acting like a fucking child. My mind was in a haze; panic about Sasha and Glenn and Daryl and me hit me like a brick wall and it was all too much. I couldn't think to help Daryl figure out how the hell we were going to get out of this. I couldn't force myself to be the strong leader that I always tried being. It was like I was turning into a complete fucking different person all because I was spooked by Daryl's short disappearance.

Damn, did I have it bad for him or what?

"Get on." Daryl tugged on my arm roughly and pushed me to get on his motorcycle that he had hidden under some brush. Once I was seated on the bike he took my hands and placed them on the handlebars. "Listen," he commanded, making my eyes shoot to his at the urgency in his voice. If I couldn’t form my own thoughts right now then I would gladly do whatever he wanted me to do. "Ya gotta lead half of 'em that a'way. I gotta get Sasha and Glenn out, can't take em all at once."

My eyes widened as his words registered in my head. He expected me to ride this thing by myself? And with a hoard of Walkers on my tail at that?

 "I don't know how to fucking ride this thing," I shouted at him, feeling a part of my usual stubborn self returning.

He rolled his eyes and started it up for me. "Of course you fucking don't," he grumbled to himself. "This is the break. This makes it go."

I furrowed my brow at his condescending tone.

"Em, you'll be fine. It's like riding a bicycle with less work. I'll meet ya at the main road where we left the car. Loose 'em 'fore then."

Before I could even argue that there was no way in hell this was going to be as easy as riding a bicycle, he was running off in the opposite direction, leaving me alone with a herd charging at me.

How did he have so much confidence that I could succeed in this? He saw how I was right now, I could barely make my own two feet work let alone drive a fucking vehicle. Maybe he just didn’t care if I got overwhelmed by the Walkers, because either way it would be the distraction he needed.  

My grip tightened on the handles and I gulped as the Walkers were nearing me. I was going to do this because everyone was depending on me. And I was going to live out of spite, because Daryl fucking Dixon was not getting rid of me that easily.

Sure, Daryl might be trying to hate my guts after our last screaming match at the prison, but we both knew he can’t stay that way forever. Most of the time, Daryl and I can't fucking stand each other, even before the night that he declared he was going to stop giving a shit about me, but we are attracted like magnets and there was nothing we could do to fix that. I would always come back to him, no matter how shitty he might make me feel after an argument. And I had a feeling it was the same for him.

Ever since I met him we were arguing and fighting against the intimate tension we have around each other. I think that might be why we are always disagreeing, because we just don't want to be on the same page. It scared me, that was for sure, knowing that there was someone that I was so compatible with. I have been pushing all the feelings that I had away and was in such denial that there was any kind of spark between us. But after thinking that I had lost Daryl forever? There could be no denying it anymore. I was falling hard for the stupid redneck. And I was done denying that, whether he was or not. 

I had been driving the motorcycle shakily for a while as I thought out everything. My hands were so sweaty on the bars that I would have to wipe them on my jeans every now and again. My heart rate was sky high the entire time I was on the damn bike, my legs shaking. I couldn't wait to get off of the fucking thing, so I lead my half of the herd away rather quickly and ditched them in no time.

Coming down the road in a zigzag because I could barely driving the fucking motorcycle, I caught sight of Daryl sitting on the side of the road with Glenn and Sash by his side. I praised whatever God would hear me. This nightmare was coming to an end and we could go back to the prison all in one piece.

Daryl stood up as I shakily drove the motorcycle up to him and hopped off of it. I more like fell off the bike, but Daryl's hands were there supporting me in a second. Seeing him alive made me so happy that I could have kissed him right then and there. But me being me I did the opposite.

I pulled my arm out of his steadying hold and reeled it back. I swung my fist at him, coming in solid contact with his arm. Hard.

He was startled and confused, taking a step back from me while he rubbed at his arm. I saw him getting ready to open his mouth and rip me a new one for hitting him, but I didn't give him the chance to speak. 

"Don't you ever tell me to drive that fucking deathtrap again," I yelled.

He blinked at me before realizing that I was talking about his motorcycle, then the biggest fucking grin slowly spread across his face. 

I wanted to stay mad, but if I’m honest I was just glad to see him with an expression that wasn’t full of hate for me. And maybe finally he had moved passed being angry at me and even if he didn’t like me the way that I liked him, we could at least go back to being normal fucking friend again. 

Yeah, that wouldn’t be so bad. 

***

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@daryldixonandfrogs @jodiereedus22 @xchrisxevansx

[sunlightdances]

Blooming in the Shadows (1/6)

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader Rating: Overall PG-13 because of canon-typical violence. Also swearing. Words: 2,573 (this part) Warnings: Angst! Dean and the Reader swearing like sailors! Mutual pining with a dash of bed sharing and a slow burn romance added in for extra fluffy goodness. Summary: You and Dean Winchester are barely friends. His sudden reappearance from Hell brings you together, and you find yourself right back in the life you ran away from when you were a teenager. (Canon AU that takes place during season 4, specifically starting at 4.01 - for reference, Dean is 29) Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or Dean Winchester. I also don’t own “Love is a Wild Thing” by Kacey Musgraves, which I used lyrics from for the title. I do own original elements of the plot. Please don’t repost my work on any other sites (ao3 and wattpad included!) - reblogs are welcomed, as are replies and likes! 

Links in posts are acting dumb, but you can find the master list for this fic on my blog, as well as my full master list :)

The gravel crunches under your boots as you walk slowly across the parking lot, your gun at the ready, your heart hammering in your ears. You feel half-deaf - the high pitched noise from a few minutes earlier enough to knock out the windows in this gas station, and the hearing from your ears.

It makes you jumpy - worried that something is going to have an advantage over you because your senses are muted.

Your car had all but died driving down this lonely stretch of highway, your hunter senses instantly on alert when the radio fizzled and faded out, your engine following suit soon after. Your car windows were the next things to bite it - the sound so piercing it shattered every window. You’ll have time to be embarrassed about the pained scream you had let out later.

“What the hell…” you whisper, looking at the doorway and the blown out windows, seeing salt lines spread across.

“Hands up.” A deep voice from behind you startles you, and you curse as you flinch. “Where I can see both of them.”

You turn slowly, and your hand drops when you realize who you’re looking at. “Jesus Christ--” you curse, gun flying back up at the ready.

His eyes widen as he recognizes you, and your own eyes harden, because no matter what your eyes are telling you, your heart knows this is not Dean Winchester.

Dean Winchester is in hell.

“Kid, you have no idea how good it is to see you.”

Another strike. The Dean you know would never be happy to see you, no matter the circumstances. “Don’t move,” you hiss, taking a step towards it. “Don’t fucking move or I swear, I’ll--”

“It’s me.”

Strike three.

“Bullshit. Give me one reason I shouldn’t take a shot right now.” You will your hands not to shake. You need to have the upper hand here.

“Do the checks.” His voice is sharp. You flinch again, cursing under your breath softly. “Do it.”

Still aiming your gun with one hand, you take a step closer, pulling a knife from your back pocket. He’s in short sleeves, so it’s not difficult to slowly move down, eyes on his, nicking him with the silver knife.

If he hears your audible sigh of relief, he doesn’t say anything.

“Wait,” you say before he can move, “One more.” The knife goes back in your pocket. You did your flask out of your other pocket. A quick flick of your wrist and his face is doused in holy water. His eyes scrunch in discomfort, but otherwise there’s no sizzling of flesh, no screams of fury.

It’s him. It’s Dean.

You both stare at each other, not sure what to do. You’ve never been huggers, so you say the only thing you can think of.

“Dean, what the hell?”

~~~~

Hours later, your hearing is almost back to normal as you sit with Dean in the grimy restroom of the gas station, watching as he washes his face and takes some antiseptic to the cuts littering his forearms and face. He winces, meeting your eyes in the mirror. You look away quickly.

“So…” He starts, clearing his throat. “Come here often?”

You meet his gaze with a blank look. “I was driving. Car stopped. Then the noise, and… you know the rest, I guess.” You stand, starting to pace. “How are you here? How is this possible? Sam--”

“Sam said I was in hell.”

You shrug. “Well, yeah.”

“Didn’t know you two still talked.”

You roll your eyes. “Are we really going to do this right now? One of you was going to hell - he thought I should know about it.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you’re about to tell him how typical it is that he’s ignoring you even though you’re literally the only one who can get him out of here right now-- you see that he’s staring at his shoulder.

There’s a fucking handprint burned into his arm.

“What the--”

“Fuck.” Dean finishes, and you think it’s the only time the two of you have ever been on the same page in your entire lives.

“Don’t panic,” you say, more to yourself than him, but he takes offense anyway.

“I’m not panicking. You don’t panic.”

“I wasn’t--” You stop yourself with a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Never mind. We have to get out of here. Whatever that was… I don’t really feel like sticking around to find out how pissed it’s going to be when it comes back.”

Begrudgingly, he agrees. You gather up your bag and sling it over your shoulder, Dean following you out of the building, the sunlight reflecting off the broken glass making you shield your eyes.

Your car is only about fifty feet away. Dean stops halfway there. “Your car?”

You groan. “Really, Dean? How else are we supposed to get out of here?”

He glares. “I meant -- you said your engine died. Am I going to have to work on this car?” The again goes without saying, images of a teenage Dean grumbling as he changes the oil in your car flashing through your head.

You shrug. “I guess so, I don’t know. I didn’t do this on purpose, you know.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he’s not arguing either, so you take it as a win. He opens the hood and you watch as he goes to work with the few tools you had in the trunk, grumbling to himself the entire time.

You can’t help but be on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop - either for whatever blew out the windows in town to show up again, or for Dean to decide he’s had enough and leave you here.

“Get inside and turn the key, kid,” Dean says, and for once you don’t argue. You get in the driver’s seat and start the engine, laughing triumphantly when it starts right up. Dean peers around the hood, an answering grin on his face. He shuts the hood and slides into the passenger seat, tossing both of your bags over his shoulder and into the back seat.

“Careful, the glass--”

“Just drive,” Dean says, “You remember the way to Bobby’s?”

You glare at him, the car still in park. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Just wondered if you remembered where it was, seeing as how you turned tail and never came back as soon as you were old enough--”

“You can walk there, if you’d like.” Your voice is cold. You hate him. You hate that he has the ability to make you feel like you’re the absolute scum of the earth. As if you don’t feel enough guilt about the way you left things all those years ago.

“I’m--” He stops himself, closing his eyes briefly. He lets out a deep exhale. “Sorry. I’m just--”

“I know.” You keep your voice quiet. “Let’s just-- we’ll get to Bobby’s and he’ll know what to do.” Almost to yourself, you repeat it. “He’ll know what to do.”

Your foot hits the gas, and you start to drive.

.

.

.

Bobby reacts much in the same way you had, splashing holy water in both of your faces before he grabs Dean into a bone crushing hug. You stand there, arms wrapped around your stomach, trying to remind yourself that there’s clearly something bigger going on here, so you don’t have time to feel like an outsider.

“Don’t just stand there,” Bobby says, gruff, grabbing your elbow and tugging you in, so you’re awkwardly pinned underneath Bobby’s arm and pressed up against Dean’s side, the weirdest group hug in the history of mankind.

“Okay, okay,” Dean says, “I hate to break up this happy family moment, but we have to figure out what the hell is going on. How long have I been gone? Where’s Sam?”

You could hear a pin drop.

“It’s been four months,” You say quietly.

“That’s it?” Dean looks back and forth between you and Bobby. “That doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I haven’t seen or heard from Sam since we buried you.” Bobby says, and you freeze. Yikes, that’s not what you were expecting.

“Since you buried me? What the hell?” Dean asks through grit teeth.

“Sam was dead set against a hunter’s funeral. I couldn’t-- it wasn’t my decision to make. Lucky for you,” He adds, glaring at Dean, who rolls his eyes.

“No one’s heard from Sam in months?” He looks back at you.

You shrug. “He called me when-- when you died. That’s the last I heard from him.”

“He doesn’t want to be found, Dean.” Bobby says.

Dean runs a hand through his hair. “I-- I need some air. We need to find him.” Dean says, voice tight, before he pushes through the screen door and out into the yard.

You watch him go, wary, before looking back over at Bobby, who’s already looking at you. “What?”

“Did you get him out?” Bobby asks, almost a growl.

“Excuse me?”

“You brought him here. He was supposed to be in hell.” Bobby takes a step closer. “Did you make a deal?”

The air is practically sucked out of your lungs. Jesus, no wonder Bobby is so pissed all of a sudden. “No! God, Bobby.” You cross your arms tight over your chest. “I found him. It was coincidence, the whole thing. I don’t know any more than you do about how he got out.”

“I’m just saying, I know how you feel--”

You hold your hand up, “Stop right there. I don’t feel anything.” You’re so angry you can barely see straight. It’s not like you’re not relieved Dean isn’t being tortured in hell. No matter how much you two can’t stand each other, you’d never wish that on him. But you absolutely do not have feelings for him.

Maybe you did once, when you were young and stupid and didn’t know how the world worked. Before you realized what a fucking cliche it was - a young, starry-eyed hunter and the over-protective, broody type. God. What a riot. Sure, you thought he was attractive. You knew deep down he was a good person. It was easy for you to develop a crush on him when you were sixteen and constantly in close quarters with him.

But then he developed a mean streak, and you received the message loud and clear. You hit the road as soon as you felt confident enough to hunt on your own, and didn’t look back.

10 years earlier…

You’re struggling to keep your voice down as you stand almost toe to toe with Bobby in the kitchen, very aware of the Winchesters asleep in one of the bedrooms upstairs.

“I’m not asking for your permission,” you tell him.

“Good, because I’m not giving it.” He fires back.

You resist the urge to stomp your foot. Certainly wouldn’t help your case. “Bobby, I-- I am so grateful to you. You have no idea. But I have to do this. I can’t stay here anymore. I’m just in the way.”

“You’re not in the way. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“What’s going on?” A deep voice interrupts, and you turn to look at Dean standing at the bottom of the stairs.

He looks between you and Bobby, and then his gaze finally settles on the bag at your feet.

“Going somewhere?”

“I’m not doing this. I’ll call when I get to a motel,” you say, leaning in to give Bobby a hug before he can say anything else.

Dean says your name, but you ignore him. You shoulder your way out the front door, trying like hell to keep your tears at bay, because despite what Bobby thinks, this actually isn’t the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do.

“Hey!”

You stop, shoulders slumping as you hear his voice. Jesus, you really don’t want to argue with him. Not now.

“What the hell is going on?” His eyes are a little wild. You chalk it up to it being the middle of the night. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving.” You take the few remaining steps towards your car, wrenching open the driver’s side back door to toss your bag onto the seat.

“What are you talking about?”

“God!” You whirl around, “Why is this so hard for everyone to understand! I’m leaving. I’m going to hunt on my own, or find some friends, or whatever. I’m going.”

Dean actually looks a little speechless, which would be a first for him. “Why?”

You can’t help it, you laugh. You laugh so hard you know he’s probably thinking you’re possessed. “Isn’t this what you wanted, Dean? Now it’ll be just the three of you, the way it was before I came along and ruined everything.”

He looks like you’ve slapped him across the face. “I never--”

“Yes, you did. Look, I don’t know what I ever did to make you hate me so much, after all, it wasn’t my fault that demon killed my parents and I had nowhere else to go. But you do, and I can’t-- living here with all of you and constantly feeling like I don’t belong here is… it’s suffocating. I can’t stand it anymore. So I’m going.”

Dean shifts his weight, his hands going to his hips. “What about Bobby? Sam? You’re just going to turn your back on them.”

You try not to flinch at the way he pointedly leaves himself out of the list of people you care about.

“I’m not turning my back on anyone. I don’t belong here. I never have.” You can’t help but add, “You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

His mouth opens and closes again, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. You hate yourself for the tiny flare of hope that springs up inside you.

“If you go now, you don’t get to come back.”

And… that’s it. The last piece of your already fragile heart breaks. You’re surprised it isn’t an audible sound. A tear slips down your cheek, but you’re too exhausted to wipe it away.

“I have to go,” Is all you can say, softly, and you watch as he takes a half step towards you before stopping, clenching his fists at his sides. He turns on his heel and heads inside without so much as a backwards glance, and only when you’re in the car, pulling out onto the main road, do you let the rest of your tears fall.

Now

Bobby checks you over for a concussion even though you insist you’re fine, and you convince him to go check on Dean, too.

You take the precious few minutes you’re alone to reacquaint yourself with the old house, running your fingers reverently over the spines of the books on the shelves, and smiling at the pictures of the Winchesters and Bobby.

You have to remember that whatever is going on here is bigger than you. It’s bigger than whatever bad blood there is between you and Dean. You decide you’re going to take the high road and help them with whatever this is, but leave as soon as they’ve got it handled. You won’t be a burden to them. Not anymore.

When they come back in, Dean’s sleeve is rolled up again, the edges of that burn mark peeking out underneath black cotton. You try not to stare at it.

“I got a hit on the GPS on Sam’s phone.”

Tag list for this fic is OPEN. Please send me an ASK to be added - they’re much easier for me to keep track of! 

New chapters posted every Friday!

[my-love-peterp]

Mistaken Chapter Seven

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Word Count: 4268

THERE ARE NO ENDGAME SPOILERS, THIS IS A DELAYED UPLOAD FROM AO3

Fic Summary: Peter Parker has been given the responsibility of bringing in a new recruit. Now, as an adult, he realizes that none of the trashy YA novels he read in high school could have prepared him for this. There was a storm on the horizon, and all they could do from the Tower is watch.

Chapter Summary: So this is definitely a chapter on my list of necessary revisions HOWEVER,  I’m writing one from some other characters POV just to shed some extra light on the circumstances surrounding what happens in this chapter. I think for sure we’ll get some Tony vignettes and maybe Steve and Darcy as well, just assessing Kaida and Tony and their states of mind (fragile, not great) and get into some motivating factors. Also, I know it’s a long time in coming but the big bad is coming soon. It’s not just Kaida vs herself as the main conflict in this piece. 

Warnings: drinking, smut, the like

Chapter One   Chapter Two   Chapter Three   Chapter Four   Chapter Five Chapter Six

The next day, I was reading the next book on my to be read list when Peter came screeching into the common room. “Cranewood!!” He practically shrieked as he ran, hips first into the back of the couch I was lounging one. He miscalculated his own speed and toppled over the back, faceplanting right into my lap.

“Oh my god, oh my god I’m so sorry I didn’t-oh, Jesus, I’m so sorry I just totally invaded your personal space and literally put my face there and oh my god.” He cut his own self off and blushed so deep, the tips of his ears almost flowed red. Peter licked himself back up and adjusted his blue sweatshirt before running his hands through the hair on the back of his neck and refusing to make eye contact with me.

“Peter?”

“Y-yeah what’s up Kaida,” he managed to squeak out before coughing and clearing his throat, lowering his voice to compensate. I just stared back at him expectantly, dog-earring my page before slamming the book shut between my thighs. He blinked twice before shifting uncomfortably between feet. I swear, for an adult man, this boy sure acted like a gawky sophomore a lot.

“Oh. Oh yeah!!! We’ve met before. Cranewood School for Girls. Technically you and Spider-Man met but... I’m hurt that you were never even going to mention the first time I saved your life. What’s up with that? And also how did a Hydra ghost end up on Long Island at an elite prep school for upstanding young women and-“ I tuned him out unconsciously.

In truth, I had completely forgotten my run in with Spider-Man when I was 13. My sister and I were much too busy then still readjusting to a normal lifestyle we’d never had and covering our tracks while breaking enough laws to provide for ourselves, day in and day out.

Nadia had laundered enough money that We had more than enough for a down payment on a small apartment in the Long Island area and I was proficient enough in my mimicry and illusion work that we were able to enroll in school with a late start due to our “parents” and their extremely generous donations. It certainly helped that Nadia and I were both whip-smart.

I remembered the day Spidey was talking about. Some jack booted Hydra thug had stormed the grounds and held my class hostage, because his primary target, Anna, who was the daughter of a senator, was my classmate. Luckily, she sat about as far away from me as popular so the Agent was never able to see my face. I didn’t realize the whole upset was over until I had felt a large hand rubbing my back.

Of course, it was Spider-Man that came to my rescue. That day seemed to repeat itself over and over with no end sight. Of course, he was comforting me. His super hearing was the first power I’d ever assimilated by accident. We should test that more in the lab.

As I opened my mouth to finally suggest a battery of tests to Peter, FRIDAY started shouting instructions to be heard over the loud clang of the emergency bell.

Science could wait.

A few months later

The alarm cut through my concentration. It turned out to be just a bigger Code Green false alarm. We’d had two in the last week. I’m not blaming it on any specific individuals but there’s was something to be said in the 200% uptick in near Code Green’s since Dr. Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis, intern and mechanical engineer extraordinaire returned from Reykjavik. But who was I to complain? After the relocated to the Tower back in May, just three months ago, there were more Strawberry pop tarts in the pantries than I’d ever seen before in my life. And it was so relieving to have another ‘devil may care’ woman around the Tower.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Natasha for all that she is but she’s just a teacher to me. And Wanda read as more of a mom friend in my mind. Darcy is the kind of girl you make up desperate housewives drinking games with. We gravitated toward each other immediately, bonding over baking, needling Tony, and then bemoaning the lack of clubbing appropriate company. She also held no judgment for me about my past, which I couldn’t believe until I saw her and Bucky making googly eyes at each other from across the room, then it all clicked.

Darcy Lewis had become my best friend, big sister and closest confidant and just a week’s time. Now, a few months later, there were still no hydra threats and my probation was set to be lifted this evening. “The perfect time to go clubbing “ Darcy had declared it, before enlisting my strengths to remove, forcibly if necessary, the science squad from their labs. And then to force them out into the world of the living. The only member to straight up refuse was Tony, as was expected. We had been… Cordial to one another but never anything more. I am nearly positive he had Friday keep tabs on my location just so he could avoid me at all times. Inevitably, we would run into each other Coming and going from our quarters or as we made our way to and from our designated lab spaces. I still didn’t quite understand why Tony lived on the same floor as the rest of the Avengers when I knew damn well he had his own penthouse in the tower.

Anyways, my lab was certainly something to behold. The calling it my lab was a bit of a stretch considering I didn’t build anything really, I just tested my powers and checked my biological markers with gadgets that Tony, Bruce, and Dr. Helen Cho had come up with together. We were still waiting for a contact from a group called the guardians who would potential he be able to determine what part alien I am. But it was the world’s most high tech library/relaxation room/artist’s studio. All to make remaining in it all day for the sake of data aggregation tenable.

To say I was bored out of my mind at first was an understatement. But over time I began to have visitors. Darcy was a daily, and surprisingly, so was Pietro. Peter and Bucky also visited, if less frequently. And, oddly enough, Vision was there almost all the time. I asked him about it once and he shrugged (how does a former AI program shrug so effectively) and simply stated that my presence combed his mind. Whatever that meant.

In any case, I wasn’t as bored or lonely anymore. In fact, I could almost swear that something was developing between Pietro and I.

Earlier this week, as I was doing the Times word search and also project in my powers to deflect incoming projectiles, my hair was flipped up and into my face, causing my concentration to skip which led to a tennis ball smacking me right in the face. Above me, Pietro burst out laughing and DUM-E beeped apologetically.

“I don’t think I can forgive you for this,“ I deadpanned, reaching back to jab him in the kidney, which he promptly dodged, all the while still cackling. When his laughing fit finally subsided, he stood back up straight.

“I have an idea, “he announced proudly.

“Stop the presses everyone, and called the Vatican, Speedy here has an idea. It must be a miracle. First one in a decade. The world must be ending,” I replied, looking at him and trying not to smirk. I will give him props because the obscene shocked and hurt that filled his face moments later was almost convincing. He chuckled and moved to sit on the stool next to me. He said nothing, only staring at me.

“Okay Zippy, what was your big idea?”

“You haven’t tested your instinctual and biological responses enough. For example, the fight or flight instinct is recreated too imperfectly in simulated situations to be of any use to you. However, there is another way around that beyond throwing yourself into open combat.” I tilted my head, waiting for him to continue. He leaned forward placing his hands on my side and leaning closer. Hesitant but not opposed, my eyes fluttered chat. Instead of kissing me as I had assumed (hoped!) was his plan, I felt his lips brush against the shell of my ear. I shattered at the sensation, anticipating.

“I have a question “, he whispered. I mumbled my acknowledgment and it took me a few seconds to process what he had said and by that time it was already too late. “ are you ticklish,” he had whisper gently. Now he was mercilessly attacking my side with one, extremely quick fingers, whenever I moved to try to escape, he was there.

I collapsed to the ground, giggling breathlessly before I cut myself and put on my grumpy face. Pietro smiled lazily and shifted so his knees were on either side of my thighs.

“ if you tickle me again, I’ll scream,” I warned him.

“ I bet I could have you screaming my name,” he replied cheesily.

“ I actually hate you right now. I’m considering making you my official arch nemesis. I might make T-shirts. And badges. Definitely badges.”

“Who’s making badges? Didn’t you know nemesis badges are so last season? This is why you should consult the great and powerful Darcy on all things,” came the snarky voice of my best friend from the lab door. I urgently pushed Pietro up and off of me. But as was the theme of the day, I was seconds too late, and Darcy saw us in a position that looked extremely compromising without context.

She raised her eyebrows at me, cheeks twitching as she managed, for once, to hold back whatever retort she thought of once she saw me beneath Pietro. Instead, she readjusted herself and offered me a hand to pick me up off of the slightly dusty floor. I made a mental note to give DUM-E the Swiffer tonight.

After I was back on my feet and thoroughly dusted off, Darcy approached the silver-haired man who was currently leaning against one of my shoulder high bookshelves, jabbing her finger into his sternum. “You hurt my sister and I know an Asgardian who can make your life a living hell. And no, I’m not talking about Thor. Plus, you should be scared of me, I’ve bested him in combat once before and I can certainly take you. So watch yourself Maximoff,” she growled before stomping away, grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me along behind her. “We’ve talked about this,” she hissed at me after her suite door slammed behind us. She’d been silent the entire elevator ride down to her floor. I loved Darcy but she was still a little paranoid about FRIDAY always being present and listening in.

“Darcy it wasn’t like that, he... tickled me?”

She snorted in disbelief. “Yeah, I bet he did. Looked like he wanted to do a lot more from where I was standing kid. I’m telling you he’s bad news. What do you see in him anyway?”

I scoffed at her insinuation that somehow, Pietro would be the rotten one between us. “Dee I was literally sleeping with Tony Stark a few months ago while I had intimate knowledge of his fiancés fate. Plus I’m not exactly innocent in literally any sense if the word...” I trailed off but she just glared at me, which was her way of telling me that we weren’t leaving until I answered all of her questions.

I sighed and plopped myself down on her cozy armchair, putting my feet up. “It’s just... he’s easy to be around Darcy. It’s not hard, I don’t have to think about anything twice, there’s no pressure. He’s funny, makes me smile, puts up with my shit. And he doesn’t want more from me than I’m willing to give. We’re as easy as breathing.” I blinked, shocked at the words that had just come out of my mouth. Sure, I would admit to having a crush on the guy, he was hot and snarky. I loved that. Wait, love? I really was losing my mind.

“You know what, forget anything I just said. Let’s go out clubbing like you suggested and find me a man to get under for the night. I have to blow off some steam. I’m delusional and sappy over here.”

Darcy shrugged, noncommittally. “What?!” I demanded, confused as all hell.

“If you really feel that way about him, you should tell him. He may not be pushing you to give more than you’re ready for, but is he going to be prepared to give you everything you want, or is he just here for the safe convenience of it Kaida? You two have been prancing around each other like orphaned fawns, afraid to let yourselves get hurt and calling it sacrifice for the other. Or maybe he just doesn’t care and wants to play dirty because you’re available and convenient. “

I was a little hurt at her words but I could see the truth behind them. It was time Pietro and I had a chat. But not before I went out and had fun with my best friend. I relayed that thought to Darcy who excitedly squealed as we plotted to get the Science Squad out and about with us.

That brings us to now. Several of us piling into the biggest limo I’d ever seen. Bruce, Jane, Nat, Clint, Thor, Wanda, Pietro, Sam, Helen, the super soldiers, and even Peter had elected to join Darcy and I out tonight. It was certainly going to be one for the history books.

Smushed as we were in the back of the vehicle, it was oddly calming. For the first time today I felt as though I had time to just think for myself. I brushed my hand along my inner left forearm and shivered as a chill climbed down my spine. The perfectly raised but horrifically off-kilter writing simply read ‘cereal?’ today. Not much to go on if I were actively looking for my soulmate. Not that I would.

Whatever being it was that decided that two halves, or sometimes thirds or fourths of the same soul, would be imprinted with the first and last words their counterparts said for that day, was a complete and total madman.

It wasn’t a whole lot to go off of. I knew they were older than me because I’d gotten the marking before I could speak and I was advanced for my age. I knew they were New Yorkers just by the way they’d mention certain places and things offhand.

But I wasn’t looking for them. It was fairly obvious to me, at that point, that becoming a fixture in my life was beneficial to absolutely no one. And, based on the blip of feeling or insight I’d get mentally from my soulmate bond, whoever they were had a strong sense of duty. Someone who felt duty bound to a person like me would only end up dead.

And yeah, maybe I was kidding myself and these were really just excuses to protect myself from losing more of the people I cared about but honestly who gave a fuck. There were millions of people in this city. What were the odds we’d even run into each other?

Too high. But there was nothing I could do about that.

And then, after what felt like hours, the car stopped and the group spilled out on to the sidewalk before scrambling to the door of the club, bypassing the line. It was one of the classier, more exclusive establishments in town but not too high brow to preclude any riff-raff.

Cue Darcy Lewis, the bane of all rationality. Darcy’s personality was that of an instigator. I, on the other hand, would never back down when challenged. That meant five tequila shots in five minutes in addition to getting three random numbers. Just for fun. A few shots later and Darcy hauled me on to the dance floor.

We writhed and twisted around each other, alternating between cackling at one another and concentrating on looking appealing and feeling sexy. Her hands roamed my body and rested on my hips as I playfully ground myself back into her.

I could see Natasha posted up in the corner, sipping a sea breeze and keeping her eyes open. Bruce stood a few feet away from her, nervously twitching but slugging back some whiskey. Clint was at the bar pounding back beers with Helen, Jane, Thor, and Sam. All seemed deeply invested in a manic take the Asgardian was telling, arms flailing and making weird shapes as he attempted to act out whichever feat of heroism was on tap for tonight. Wanda stood behind them but looked a little lost. That’s when I noticed that Pietro and Peter were both missing.

Peter was easy enough to find, he was perched next to the top of the stairs, keeping up surveillance of the entire place, the boy having no idea how to relax. I was about to mention Pietro’s absence to the brunette behind me when the wind rushed around me. Suddenly, I wasn’t on the dance floor with Darcy but back at the bar with Pietro.

“What the fuck dude,” I bit out, slapping his arm. “You can’t just speed someone without permission, it doesn’t work like that.” Pietro just shrugged and smiled lopsidedly. It was the kind of smile that got him off for everything. And now was no exception.

“But Kaida, you promised to show me what body shots were some day. I would like to do them now if that is okay. I still have not learned all of your silly American customs.”

I was just gone enough to nod eagerly while my body flushed hot. Body shot demonstrations were requested and so they would be done. We started simple, cleavage shots, I showed him with Darcy and then he practiced on me. His scruff scraped pleasantly against my overheated skin and I trembled. Then Darcy whispered salaciously in Pietro’s ear as I rested up against the bar. In a flash, Pietro‘s hands were squeezing around my hips and I was laying on top of the bar, shirt hiked up.

Tequila was poured and salt sprinkled around my Navel by Darcy freakin' Lewis, who, just hours earlier, had scolded both Pietro and I for our touching antics. But now, here she was, encouraging Pietro to haul me on to the bar. Before I could process that emotional whiplash, Pietro’s face was hovering over my stomach, a wicked smile filling his expression. I squirmed and he responded by dipping his head, using his tongue to swipe up the salt from my body before continuing down and sucking on my navel, slurping up all the tequila. My body was positively on fire. I opened my mouth in a breathless moan and nearly choked when my best friend shoved the rind of lime between my teeth. Her face was quickly replaced by Pietro’s. His eyes burned into mine, his pupils were blown, dark and hungry. He placed his mouth over mine, biting down surprisingly gently so lime juice with a hint of a taste that must be pure Pietro flooded my mouth. Icy fire burned through my veins as I completely forgot the discomfort of the hardwood bar pressing against my back. We were drawing closer and closer to each other as Pietro decisively removed the line from my mouth.

The trance was broken by a cough and a throat clearing. The Spiders Two, Peter and Natasha, were standing behind Pietro, arms crossed. Nat’s face was expressionless, but Peter‘s emotions were somewhat clear. He looked uncomfortable, annoyed and something else I couldn’t quite get a read on. My mouth fell open in a drunken grin, as I waved awkwardly to them, attempting to lift my head and slide off the bar and to my feet. Unfortunately, I was still more than a little boneless from the whole “Pietro‘s lips and tongue on my body“ situation, so, while I did manage to slide off the bar, landing on my feet and my high heels was a whole different story.

Long story short, I simply didn’t. Fortunately, when you’re friends with other enhanced people, their reflexes are typically pretty good. So I felt long, pale arms lock around my middle and stop me from falling. I grinned widely again at the feeling of thick ropey muscles encompassing me.

As I righted myself, the arms remained around me, hints of spicy cologne filling my nostrils when I slouched back into the warm body that stood behind me, closing my eyes and tilting my head back to nuzzle into Pietro’s neck. His breath caught and he let out a weirdly high pitched squeak in surprise.

“Oh shoot,” I stammered reflexively, looking down, “did I step on your foot or something? I know these heels can be a bitch.” It took me a minute to realize why what I was seeing felt so wrong. Instead of the tight black jeans Pietro had been wearing that night, my rescued had on dorky khakis and a blue button up. Peter.

“Fuck, Peter I didn’t know it was you, god damn I like almost assaulted you there. I’m so, so sorry. Jesus Christ, no more tequila for me ever.” I just kept rattling off apologies until he waved me away and Darcy took my arm to lead me out to a cab that was pulling up for us. It was time for me to go home, so Clint was being sent with me to supervise and make sure I made it back to the Tower in one piece and then he’d take one of Tony’s cars to drive back to his farmstead. “I’ve gotta take the kids to school tomorrow. Laura has a doctor’s appointment and I’m trying to be a good dad. You know, the whole nine yards. Or at least as good of a dad as a world-renowned assassin can be.” He ended up using the ride to babble on TL me about everything Nathaniel was getting up to at the moment and the big fiasco when he found out he was named after a girl and the killer meltdown when his parents rebuked him.

Clint deposited me in the elevator and hit my floor for me before he took off to the tunnel leading towards our parking garage. For the first fifth floors, everything was silent save for the occasional squeak of a gear or run of a pulley. Until the elevator stopped on one of the lab floors. I should have realized at that moment that all but one member of the Science Squad had been out that night, but it didn’t until I saw him step into the elevator beside me.

We stiffened simultaneously as Tony and I took the other in. Taking opposite corners, we studiously ignored each other as the elevator began moving. It was uncomfortable and deafeningly quiet, but that was probably more than I deserved. And then, as though whatever cosmic being had a direct line to my thoughts coupled with a sick sense of humor, the elevator froze, the lights went dark and an alarm started blaring, quickly followed by the emergency sprinkler system.

So to recap, I was trapped in a metal box, in the dark, being pelted with cold water, quite similar to what my parents used to do to Nadia and me.

It was at this moment that I had my worst panic attack to date. The sharp sense of panic cut down whatever buzz I had built up from the night before. Pure unadulterated terror flooded my chest as I collapsed to the floor, twitching. My chest heaved with silent sobs, my trauma reminding me that if I made a sound, Nadia would be punished and vice verse. Tears streamed down my cheeks and bile coated my throat. I could hear tony working frantically to desired the elevator panel and talking at me. I couldn’t hear what he was saying. It didn’t matter. I was too far gone.

Minutes, maybe hours passed. Before I could think clearly, I was entirely disassociated and then sleeping in a wet puddle on the floor of our stalled elevator.

When I woke up the next morning, I was in my own bed, drowning in an oversized hoody that I recognized as one I had stolen from Bucky weeks ago, that if I had to guess, he had originally stolen from Cap. It was royal blue number with a vintage style logo for the Brooklyn Dodgers, whose move was still a sore spot for Steve Rogers.

I sat up groggily, head pounding. As I finger combed my hair and stood to use my restroom, I heard gently snores coming from the plush sectional in my living room. Lo and behold, the Tony Stark was slumped over, not even under a blanket. The events of last night all came flooding back to me and I flushed a bright pink in embarrassment. I’d never shown just how deep that particular weakness ran for me. I turned back and tried to tiptoe out of the room and down to the communal floor for breakfast when Tony’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

“I think it’s time we had a talk.”

TAGLIST: @peeterparkr @private-bucky-barnes @laurfangirl424 @bucktitybarnes

[tiny-cloud-dragon]

Random Bits: FF7 03

I’m actually not sure I’ve already posted this here or not, so I’ going to post it (possibly again)

[Setting - Cloud finally finds out what gets under Zack’s skin.]

[Location - the streets of Midgar Edge - noon.]

A disembodied Angeal Head floated across the velvety black screen of Cloud's memory, bouncing slowly in random directions like the ghost of an old Windows Logo screensaver. 

"Go take a walk!" it commanded with each ricochet.

It was joined by a Zack Head, which also began bouncing randomly around and repeating "No, don't eat him!"

Cloud scowled to himself as the memory flickered unbidden across the backs of his eyelids.

*woowoowooscenetransitionwoowoowoo*

1st Class SOLDIER Timothy Titsworth burst into the conference room with the force of an angry soccer mom who has just found out her little angel was allowed to watch a PG-13 movie. Known as "Tiddy" (because there was no joining an army without acquiring some kind of weird, cool, humorous, or downright embarrassing nickname that you either loved or hated), Timothy showed great promise as a SOLDIER, but he was overly ambitious, and more than a bit egotistical.  

"What the hell, Tiddy!" Angeal barked, rising from his seat at the conference table, where he had been discussing plans for the upcoming Games with Zack, Cloud, and President Rufus Shinra.

"What the hell, indeed, Sir!" Titsworth snarled, saluting as an afterthought. "I want to be assigned to a higher level training mission-!"

"No." Cloud said firmly as Angeal apologized to Rufus for the interruption. "I already told you that you aren't ready. Get out, now. I am in the middle of a meeting, and you are out of line, Private Tiddy." he continued, deliberately stressing Titsworth's rank as an unspoken reminder of who he was speaking to, and unintentionally making a pun that caused Zack to make a very un-General like snorting sound.

Titsworth looked at Zack like a miffed child hoping that Daddy might say 'yes', even though Mommy  had already said 'no'. 

"General Fair, I-!"

The room was suddenly full of angry dragon. Papers scattered, people made exclamations of surprise, chairs tipped, and someone laughed as Cloud Shifted into his ELIETE form and, with mouth gaping, lunged across the desk at Titsworth. 

Zack jumped on Cloud's long neck, landing just behind his head, and managed to grab the long, whisker/tendril/moustache/feeler thingies trailing from the sides of his snout and hauled on them like reins while shouting "No, don't eat him!"

Massive jaws with long fangs snapped shut inches from Titsworth's face and Cloud goose-honked in pained surprise, pulling his head up and back, twisting it from side to side while backing up as he tried to relieve the sharp pulling on his face feelers.  He Shifted back to his normal shape, leaving Zack sitting in mid-air for the length of an eye blink before gravity caught up with reality and he crashed to the floor.

Zack immediately bounced up and grabbed Cloud by the arm before he could lunge at Titsworth again.

"Go take a walk, "Angeal snapped at Cloud, who was all scowls and hisses. 

"But what about-!" Titsworth began from where he had fetched up against the wall. Like a terrier with a rat, he was not about to let the argument go, out of either a poor sense of self-preservation, or out-right stupidity.

"Shut up, before I tell General Fair to let him go, and we end up having to send your mother an 'In Sympathy for Your Loss' card!" Angeal snapped with that tight-lipped, angry-eyed expression that most teens didn't even have to see to know it was being made. It was an expression that had its own sound. 

Titsworth huffed, but closed his mouth. He remained on the floor, sitting very still as Cloud stormed out of the room. Dragons were like cats. They would go after anything that moved, so it was best not to draw their attention.

*woowoowooscenetransitionwoowoowoo* Cloud shook his head at the memory, causing the Heads to bounce violently around and collide with each other with a double "ouch!" before they faded away. He was only mildly annoyed by now, having walked several blocks, but he couldn't help but feel unjustly put-upon. It wasn't like he'd chosen his ELITE form, and he couldn't help that it would sometimes take over.  It wasn't his fault that dragons had a very simple idea of what constituted 'conflict resolution', and that it mostly involved eating whomever caused the conflict. 

Go take a walk...

Cloud would have rather gone out for a nice long flight. It was much more fun, and relaxing, but it did tend to stir up the city's inhabitants. There was just something about a black winged shadow passing overhead that would send people screaming in panic. Old instincts died hard, and deep in most the primitive part of their brains, people were still just small, soft-bodied squeaky creatures hiding under leaves and flinching at shadows.

He turned a corner and continued walking briskly along the shop lined street, noticing that other pedestrians were trying to avoid him without looking like they were avoiding him. It might have worked, if it had been one or two individuals. There is just nothing subtle about an entire crowd suddenly crossing to the other side of the street.  

Cloud found himself completely alone on the sidewalk. That was fine with him. At least he didn't have to feel like he was in the middle of a school of salmon during their running season. 

The ponderous growl of a heavy engine pulled Cloud from his musings. He paused and turned just in time to watch one of the army's humvees pull up to the curb beside him.

Zack, grinning from ear to ear, leaned toward the open passenger side window and said, in his best Creepy Witch Voice, "Need a ride little girl?"

Cloud hissed at him and resumed walking, forcing Zack to drive slowly along beside him.

"Come on, Spiky! I'm sorry I pulled your face feelers!"

Cloud pointedly ignored him.

"Don't be salty,"

Cloud kept walking.

"Don't be like that-!" Zack steered around a parked car and rolled back along side Cloud. "I'll let you work my stick-shift!"

The offer was met with an icy side eye and frigid silence.

"I'll pay you," Zack venture playfully, with a cheeky grin.

"You can't afford me." Cloud replied curtly.

Zack's grin froze, then shattered into an open mouthed gape as the comment hit him like a cast-iron lightning bolt. The hairs on the back of his neck rose at the feeling that a white-hot icicle had just been fired through his brain.

"I...did...did you...just...?" he stammered, the humvee stalling as he briefly forgot how to drive. Well, I'll be dipped in shit! Now I know how Dr. Hyansen felt! Zack thought after he recovered enough from the unexpected sarcasm that he was able to get the vehicle restarted.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" Zack called as he caught up to Cloud and parked. "Just get in, okay? Look," he said, holding up a brown paper bag, "I brought shrimp yum yum sitcks!"

Cloud's eyes were instantly glued to the bag. The scent of shrimp and vegetables in a crispy wrapper covered in toasted sesame seeds hit him straight in the olfactory receptors. He struggled with himself, pushing for Caution, while the dragon part of him drooled all over Common Sense. 

It's obviously a bribe, Cloud warned the dragon.

Shrimp yum yum sticks!

No, he's using food to-!

Shrimp yum yum sticks!

But, listen, he-!

NO! SHRIMP YUM YUM STICKS!

Cloud's stomach growled, and he gave in. As he climbed into the passenger's seat, he had to laugh at himself. Hey little boy, I've got some candy in my van, he thought with a wry snort.

"What are you laughing at?" Zack asked.

"Nothing." Cloud said slightly irritated at how he would do almost anything for those stupid sticks. It was a good thing Zack hadn't brought canned cat food... Cloud snatched the bag from Zack and took a big bite out of one of the sticks while the dragon part of him happily chanted Shrimp, shrimp, shrimp, shrimp, shrimp!

"You can still work my stick-shift if you want," Zack offered jokingly, patting the shift handle. He completely missed the slight tightening around Cloud's eyes, and the tiniest of upward curving at the corners of his mouth. 

"I'll pass," Cloud replied, the words coming out slightly distorted as he shoved another yum yum stick into his mouth. "Your knob is too small."

"Wha-!" Zack all but yelped, a full body cringe slamming down his spine as his body tried to physically force the word 'knob' back out through his ears. 

"The knob," Cloud repeated as Zack cringed again, "It's, too small so it makes your hand hurt on long drives."

Zack shot him a suspicious look, but it merely ricocheted harmlessly off the look of genuine sincerity and yum yum stick crumbs on Cloud's face.

"Maybe I should put in a request for bigger knobs..." Cloud suggested, "Bigger knobs would fit more comfortably in your hand and make them easier to manipulate for longer periods of time, right?"

Zack flinched and Cloud could almost see his brain shudder as it tried to use its own stem to tear out his eardrums.

"Stop it!" Zack snapped.

"Stop what?"

"Saying...'knob',"

"What's wrong with the word 'knob'?" Cloud asked, his eyebrows pinching together in confusion while Zack cringed.

"You saying it. It's just...wrong,"

"I'm saying 'knob' wrong?"

"NO! Just stop saying it!"

"There's nothing wrong with knobs," Cloud chided. "Lot's of things have knobs," he continued while Zack cringed  and flinched along. 

"Like radios. Radios have knobs. And tv's have knobs. Dressers have knobs. Oh, and cabinets have knobs. Beds have knobs, and you can put a knob of butter on your toast. Trees have knobs too, and hands can get knobby, and even people have knobs! My mom had knobs and she said that when I annoyed her I was 'twisting her knobs'...or was that 'pushing her buttons? I forget-!"

"Stop saying 'knob'! Zack wailed, hands clamped protectively over his ears.

"Why are you getting so bent out of shape over the word 'knob'?

Zack bristled at the word, his hair lifting like the hackles of an angry wolf. It was then that he noticed the slight crinkling around Cloud's eyes.

"You dick!" Zack snarled, annoyed. "Play Backwater Dummy with me, will you?" He leaned in close, and with a malicious grin, started wiggling his eyebrows.

Cloud recoiled, Shifting into his half-form and hissing shrimp yum yum stick all over Zack's face as memories of a certain Inspector's rather mobile eyebrows rose up to haunt him like a greasy meal at 3am after six beers. 

Unperturbed by the macerated mist, Zack continued wiggling his eyebrows, laughing evilly, "How do you like that huh? Say 'knob' again, you little turd!" He reached out to playfully poke Cloud. 

Out of pure reflex Cloud bit the offending appendage.

Zack yelped more out of surprise than pain, and snatched his hand away, retreating back to the driver's seat to inspect the damage.

"Not cool, man, you gave me a noodle hand!" He said with a pout, illustrating his grievance by flapping his now numb hand around on the end of his wrist.

"I didn't mean to,"

Zack started using his left hand to rapidly and repetitively smack his right arm against his thigh. 

"You want a rag...or... something?"

Zack paused, eyeing Cloud suspiciously. Almost afraid of the answer, he risked asking "For what?"

"So you won't be walking around the rest of the day wearing that  shrimp facial."

"Oh. Yeah." Zack replied, realizing that the remnants of shrimp yum yum sticks were quietly getting crusty on his skin. He took the napkins Cloud fished out of the crumpled bag  on the floor boards and awkwardly used his left hand to wipe his face.

"How's your hand?" Cloud inquired, a note of guilt hovering in his voice.

"Hanging in there," Zack replied with a lopsided grin.

Cloud signed into his hands in mild irritation at Zack's penchant for making jokes out of everything.He felt Zack patting him on the shoulder. There was something awkward about the gesture that had nothing to do with the current atmosphere. 

Looking up, Cloud saw Zack using his left hand to hold his numb arm up by the elbow and slap the appendage down on his shoulder. He imagined that this was exactly how it felt to be patted by a zombie. Cloud snorted in reluctant amusement and shoved the dead arm off his shoulder. The limp limb bounced off the back of the seat and slithered down the armrest to swing loosely at Zack's side.

Both men stared at the arm mutely until it stopped swinging like a slowly winding down clock pendulum before looking at each other.

Zack arched an eyebrow and said, "What? You like the angle of the dangle?"

Cloud rolled his eyes so hard he almost became the first person to find out what the backs of his own eye sockets looked like.

Zack laughed and started the vehicle.

"What are you doing?" Cloud asked in alarm, "You can't drive like that!"

"Sure I can. I'll drive, and you can work my stick!"

"Move, I'm driving."

"Fine. Killjoy.Want me to shift your stick?" Zack asked as Cloud settled into the driver's seat.

"No thanks, I can do it myself."

"Riiiight!" Zack drawled, doing a single finger gun.

"Do you want two noodle arms? Because that's how you get two noodle arms."

"Okay, okay. It's gone, see?" Zack pretended to chuck the offensive appendage armament behind him. 

"You know, it's a good thing we aren't too far from Base." Cloud said as he pulled out into traffic. 

"Why?"

"My hand won't have time to cramp up because of the--!"

"Don't say it--!"

"Knob."

Zack's distressed cry of "Stop saying 'knob'!" rang in the air before dopplering into silence as they drove away.

End.

[californiannostalgia]

Holy Shit Voltron Season 6

They did NOT pull their punches, WOW. This has gotta be my favorite season yet. Emotions were flying, space was beautiful/terrifying, important plot points were coming together, and the action was AMAZING.

*SPOILER ALERT IMMA GONNA START BLATHERING*

1. Lotor: Lotor is fucking insane and the creators played it PERFECTLY. His childhood was obviously one of continuous abuse, and I’m guessing the derision he faced for being a half-breed was worse than we’d thought, because he outright despises the Galra. He doesn't want to hear an apology from the monster that wears his mother's face, and when his father is mentioned, he FLIPS. 

It’s hard to wholeheartedly hate him because we’ve seen the potential for goodness inside of him, but with no one to teach him that genocide or forced sacrifices is wrong, he's grown up warped and twisted. What he did to the Alteans strikes me as especially awful because he genuinely sees himself as a savior of Altea. I think his falling for Allura might have been partly because she was the first sincerely kind being he's interacted with, and partly because his ideals of a perfect Altean future included the Princess in it.

Whereas Zarkon felt like a dark, immovable force, Lotor is intelligent, flexible, and much, much scarier. He fooled the Paladins, his Generals, the Galra, the Alteans—like Lance said, he fooled everyone. If he emerges from that overcharge of Quintessence for a final boss fight, he's going to be utterly terrifying. Madness runs in his family, it seems, and it's rendered more disturbing by the tragic circumstances behind it. Lotor should be proud, though. He has more than outdone his father.

2. Allura: Her Altean magics gave the enemy an impossible advantage, but also saved everyone over and over again. When she blasts Lotor with that crazy amount of Quintessence, a part of me felt disturbed by how sad the situation was. This stupid war is forcing a kindhearted child to push someone she cared about (even if it was a relationship built on falsehoods) straight into madness's open arms. Fuck war, really.

Part of her wanted to save him from becoming even more of a monster, but Allura knows where her duties lie. She doesn't have the luxury of feeling sympathetic towards the enemy. She leaves Lotor behind to his madness. She doesn't even blink at destroying the Castle of Lions, the one last piece of Altea she has left. She's a lion goddess, and I love her.

3. Keith: THAT'S WHAT I CALL CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. Marmora training plus two years in the presence of a solid parent figure and a space pet did him good. When he returned, he came back decisive, hardened, and completely ready for Black. Watching him claim his seat without a moment of hesitation gave me the shivers. The backstory episode was so good, too. This kid loves his fellow paladins with all his heart, and it's great to see his love giving him the strength to save the people that matter to him. Especially Shiro.

Oh, and you know that moment at the end of the fifth episode, when Keith nearly gives up on himself? Not caring about himself is what he does, what he’s used to. But at the last moment, he remembers how Shiro pleaded him not to give up on himself, and opens his eyes. That moment he decides to live is the definition of epic. (Also, HOLY FUCK THAT MARK WAS A SCAR??)

4. Clone Shiro: I can't believe they made us grow fond of the Shiro Clone through the D&D episode (showing off Takashi's dumb nerdy core, god I love him) before pulling the inevitable betrayal. Even though we saw it coming, they made us remember that part of him is the Shiro we love, so that the battle between the two Black Paladins could carry a sufficiently devastating note. 

I now understand why Shiro seemed so obsessed with playing a Paladin. It was because a Paladin is what the Clone was programmed to be, the only thing he knew how to be. Add that to the fact that the last thing the Clone says is Keith’s name? Yeah, the Clone Angst was strong.

5. Shiro: I'd forgotten how good and pure the real Shiro was. His acceptance and encouragement is like hot chocolate. BUT WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOUVE BEEN DEAD ALL THIS TIME. WHY WOULD YOU DROP SUCH A BOMB SO MATTER-OF-FACTLY? 

God, I'm ecstatic to have him back, grandpa hair and all. Thank you, Lion Goddess Allura. (Since this means he didn't go through any more suffering after the end of season 2, I'm strangely relieved?) (Does this mean we get a Shiro video diary now?)

6. Hunk: That first episode of him using his understanding of Galra culture to save an innocent planet was amazing. (I also really liked the command structure the team has. They readily defer to whoever has the most knowledge about a given task and follow that paladin's orders. It's a jarring contrast with how Clone Shiro was acting last season. But I digress.) Watching Hunk being a genius engineer in action is the best. I love one sarcastic, pessimistic child who basically has a heart of gold.

6. Pidge: She hesitated once and failed to stop the Clone Shiro from leaving with Lotor. When the Castle is hacked and her programs are being taken down, she pulls out her last resort card. Using that program is tantamount to admitting that she cannot trust her Shiro, and it is a crushing revelation for her, the team, and us. But she doesn’t hesitate again. (Always a joy to see her work her programming magic.)

7. Lance: The rapport Allura and Lance have with each other is the purest thing. He throws himself into harm's way for her and nearly dies. She jumps out of her lion to go help him when there's a radioactive flare moments away from coming into contact with her position. If one of them is sad, the other is there to offer emotional backup, without question. I dig this healthy supportive relationship.

What’s special about his character is that Lance is a solid presence to lean on for the others—whether he’s providing emotional support for Keith, Clone Shiro, and Allura, or taking command in the absence of a clear leader. Funny thing is, he can’t do shit for himself. His self-esteem is getting lower than ever. He openly cried (something he never lets himself do) thinking he failed Shiro. The self-hatred at his own mistakes and supposed uselessness is gonna blow up sometime soon, and I look forward to the day that time bomb finally goes off. 

8. Coran: I could feel his grief for his dead planet, his sense of inadequacy compared to his grandfather. Very pleased that they gave us quality Coran Feels. (Also, Dungeonmaster/Dragon Coran was amazing.)

9. Krolia: Keith's parents fought so hard to protect the universe and their child. I can't forget the look in Krolia's eyes when the memory beam showed her a tiny Keith standing in front of a tombstone.

10. Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid: They're trying to be loyal to the Empire, trying to save their people. They're being faced with impossible decisions left and right, and I'm curious what they'll be doing next.

11. Haggar/Honerva: She is genuinely sorry to Lotor, but sorry can't erase a millennia's worth of abuse and she knows it. I wonder what she will think when she finds out her son has followed her and Zarkon's descent into madness? I wonder what plans she has in place. (Could she be the final villain?)

12. Team Voltron: Here's the thing. In previous seasons, they were Paladins, yes, but they were still kids. They messed around with cows, made stupid jokes, generally powered through hard battles with the help of luck and sheer determination. But this season, when they charged into battle screaming, shield up and sword drawn? They no longer felt like brave kids going to war. They felt like the motherfucking Defenders of the Universe, through and through. (I didn't think I'd ever be this into a show about color-coded robot pilots. I was wrong.)

The scene where they pack their things to leave the Castle behind communicates the sense that there is no going back for them, that they are permanently changed and will constantly continue moving forward. It’s exciting. I can't wait for them to return to earth as hot badasses and bask in the respect they deserve. (Also someone needs to punch Iverson.)

13. Overall: The gorgeous backdrops, the pacing of the plot, the presentation of the scenes, the action sequences, the sound effects and acting—they were faultless. The soundtrack was great. There were countless moments of pure badassery: Krolia's fight, Keith vs. Clone Shiro, that Pidge-and-Lance tag-teaming action, Hunk's powerup, Voltron tearing a rift into the fabric of reality, etc. I loved it, I loved every precious second of this season, and I am blessed to be able to witness this masterpiece unfold before my eyes. 

[malmuses]

A Very Human Risk - Part 1 - Sam

Author’s Notes:

My very first fanfic, not to mention the first thing I’ve written in at least 10 years. Eek! This tumblr is really for myself, to prove that I can do it... but just in case anyone stumbles across it, here’s a quick Authors Note and summary.

There are 6 parts to this fic, from various character points of view, and an epilogue. (So technically 7 parts I suppose....) They are all already complete, but I plan on posting them separately over the next couple of weeks after proofing and editing. If anyone reads, I’d love a message or comment to say hi! I’ll likely post a more in-depth authors note when I’m done.

This fic is set during early to mid Season 13, shortly after Cas’s return from The Empty. 

Summary

Team Free Will’s thousand mile journey home from a routine hunt is going to take a little longer than planned. Sam’s patience with Dean and his Angel’s lack of true communication doesn’t last that far...

Destiel, Humor, Optional Smut. GO!

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

A Very Human Risk

Part One - Sam

Blood. Miscellaneous viscera. A small chunk of what might be intestine… more blood. Sam idly examined the stains on his pants while he waited for the lights to change. He was sat shotgun in the front of the Impala, ignoring the thump of his possibly-concussed head so that Dean could swing them through the drive-thru of a small mom-and-pop burger joint near Zebulon, North Carolina. Something clear and kinda greasy… was that spinal fluid? Some days, it was definitely better to pick a food option where they didn’t have to get out of the car. In the wide back seat, Cas shifted his weight forward and reached into the driver’s space. He seemed miraculously clean himself, but he had no qualms or squeamishness about the lump of something-or-other he flicked out of Deans sandy hair. There was a tiny plop as whatever-it-was landed on the dashboard.

“Hey, watch the tunes…” Dean grumbled mildly, pushing a slightly yellowed cassette of Styx songs away from the chunk.

Cas made no response, instead retreating to his often worn silent-but-listening expression and returning his gaze out of the window.

A few minutes later, Dean passed a large brown bag of warmth and questionable nutrition over to Sam, who settled it on his lap among the stains and began to rifle through as they made their way back to the highway. “They forgot a fork for my salad…” Sam lamented quietly.

“Guess you’ll have to eat it straight out of the bowl, like a true rabbit.” Dean offered with a slight grin. His words were teasing, but his tone was thin and tired. He shifted in his seat, wincing sorely at an assortment of minor wounds.

They had been on the road for several hours since they ganked a whole nest of vampires near the coast, trying to make sure they’d shaken a particularly curious traffic cop who pulled them on the way back from cleaning up the remains. He’d found no issue with the license of a certain Edward Halen, thank Chuck, but had seemed more than a little disturbed by the state of the car and its occupants. Dean had thought it best to ditch their plan to wash up in a nearby motel and stay on the road until they were well clear. Although filthy, beaten and in several cases bleeding, none of them were gravely wounded and they figured a good few hours of the road back home couldn’t hurt.

“You should rest soon.” It was a statement from Cas in the back. “Or at least shower…”

We must smell awful to him, Sam contemplated.

Dean opened his mouth to offer a quick retort, but after a couple of seconds he merely sighed and agreed. 

“Yeah. Let’s find somewhere with a room for tonight. It’s over a thousand miles back to Kansas, so we’re not getting back to the Bunker today anyways. Or at least a by-the-hour with a ton of hot water.” 

He paused briefly to check the traffic before swinging the car out onto the highway. “I’ll head towards Raleigh, there’s bound to be some kinda motel before we hit the city.”

Sam nodded idly, distracted by more pressing matters. “Dean, did you seriously order three cheeseburgers?”

“Yes.” His brother snapped, before rolling his eyes and relenting. “One’s for Cas, bitch.”

“Cas doesn’t eat, jerk.”

“Oh, but I can.” The speed with which Cas snatched the offending item from Sam’s hand was really unnecessary. Sam watched Dean’s eyes slide back to look at the angel as he unwrapped the greasy package, biting into the burger with a contented little sigh. His brother looked pleased with himself, a tiny smile curling his lip as their eyes caught and hovered for just a second too long, before Dean had to return his gaze to the tarmac. Sam said nothing; he’d been around these two long enough to know moments like that weren’t his to intrude on. The silence that followed though… that bugged him a lot more than it used to before.

* * *

Throwing the motel card to Dean, Sam ducked down into the driver’s seat of the Impala. 

“Go grab the first shower Dean, so we can get your injuries patched up…. Cas and I will run to that grocery store we passed and grab some beer and snacks for later.”

Without waiting for a response, Sam spun out of the Motel 8 parking lot. Looking over his shoulder he caught Cas’s slightly confused expression, but the angel said nothing and remained in place on the back seat, almost eerily immobile as the Impala lurched over the uneven gravel. It took only a couple of minutes to get to the Food Lion parking lot. As the car settled, Sam took the key and slipped it into his pocket, but didn’t immediately move.

“Perhaps I should fetch the beer, Sam.” Cas rumbled mildly. “For once, I may draw less attention.” He gestured to Sam’s splattered clothing.

“Yeah, I really took the brunt of the spray when Dean hacked that brunette.”

The door creaked as Cas began to open it.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Sam?”

Sam took a moment, before turning his giant form in the seat so he could look at the angelic face in the back, who still had one hand on the door handle. “Do you love my brother, Cas?”

A ghost of something shot across Castiel’s brilliant blue eyes before he responded. “Of course, Sam. You’re both family to me.”

Sam chuckled slightly, but it was a sad sound. 

“Of course.” Despite his tone, his smile to the angel was genuinely fond.  “But… I watched Dean grieve for you when you were in the Empty, Cas. I’ve seen him grieve plenty over the years…Grief for family. Dad. Mom. Bobby… For friends, for Charlie, Kevin, Ellen and Jo…. We thought you were really gone, Cas. Christ, I missed you too. It was awful. But Dean…. I’ve never seen him grieve like that Cas. He lost himself.”

The silence in the trench coat loomed for several moments.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Sam.” His voice a soft, frustrated growl. “It was a stupid move on my part… I was reckless and you paid for that.”

“You made a snap decision Cas, we’ve all done worse,” Sam comforts. “But that’s not my point.”

Castiel’s gaze dropped down and he began to fidget uncharacteristically with his tie.

Sam thinks for a moment about how mad Dean would be if he knew this conversation was why he had kidnapped the angel from the motel. Eh. At least he’ll have something valid to be angry about this week.

“He broke, Cas. He hasn’t told you, but… When I say he lost himself? He almost died. I think he tried…..” Sam’s gentle voice trailed off momentarily as he became aware that he was now using the same tone to speak to Cas as he used to soothe distressed victims and the inevitable bereaved family members they often came across during hunts. “…I mean, I don’t know that he made the conscious decision, but… the day that you came back, he died. To find a ghost. He was gone for a long time… too long. I don’t think he really cared if he came back. Not with you gone.”

When the angel’s eyes rose back up to Sam’s face, the blue was dangerously dark and his brow furrowed noticeably. “You think Dean would give up like that? Because of me?”

“I think….” Sam spread his hands in a calming gesture. “I just think he was grieving for something… more.”

In a moment of bravery, Sam reached awkwardly into the back seat and rested his hand on the angel’s knee. “I just thought… if I told you, maybe…..” He trailed off, unsure now.

Cas looked down at the hand resting on his dress pants, his gaze giving away that it was a strangely alien sight. Cas and Dean shared friendly touches and personal space often. It was comfortable now, normal. But despite the occasional hug or shoulder clap in their history, Sam didn’t usually invade his space more than he had to. His brief smile was grateful.

His otherworldly blue eyes drifted out of the window and rested on an elderly man headed into the grocery store with a cart, following him for a long moment before he eventually looked back to the younger Winchester.

“Sam, you know that… closeness between Humans and Angels is frowned upon.”

It wasn’t quite an admission, but Sam caught it, a small smile breaking his huge face. 

“Being a rebel is hardly new to you, Cas… and it’s not like you and Dean could create a Nephilim or anything. At least, uh…” Sam’s brow furrowed. Could they? Angels didn’t even have a gender, so how much did the vessel really…..

As if watching the cogs in Sam’s brain turn, Cas interrupted briefly. “No. Male human, male angelic vessel. No Nephilim risk there.” He seemed slightly amused by Sam’s momentary confusion, something akin to a smirk briefly passing his lips.

“Right.” Sam’s laugh was somehow relieved. Good. That would be weird as fuck.

Minutes passed, in not totally uncomfortable silence.

“Sam?”

Pushing his hair back behind his ear, Sam quickly brought his attention back to the angel. “Yeah?” He tried for his best open, accepting smile.

“Am I to take it then, that… You would not be adverse to any change in mine and Dean’s… our… relationship? Such as it is?”  Cas seemed to stumble a little with the wording, finding his tongue betraying him in his moment of need, attempting to voice something he had kept unspoken for the best part of a decade. “I’m… nothing, really. Not quite an angel anymore, not quite a human…. and my vessel is male. Dean hasn’t ever indicated that he would, uh, want….”

Cas’s voice gives up the ghost entirely, a flush working its way out of his white shirt collar, much to Sam’s slightly cruel delight. He took a second to bite back a teasing response, not wanting to spook the angel in a pivotal moment. 

“Castiel.” Using the angel’s full name seemed to calm his gaze and bring his attention back to Sam. “You’re my brother, man. Maybe not by blood born...but damn, by blood spilled, you’re my brother. I can’t tell you what Dean wants, or for sure how he’ll react….but I know what I’ve seen, these past years. Life is too short… human life, anyway. I just wanted you to know so that… if you wanted to talk to him, you’d know you had my blessing and my support. Whatever happens.”

“What if he doesn’t want me, Sam?”

The gigantic Winchester was suddenly floored by the raw vulnerability in the angel’s voice. From his awkwardly turned position in the front of the Impala, all he can do is firmly squeeze Castiel’s knee.

“Well… that’s a very human risk, Cas. You may be an angel again, but you out of them all know what it is to feel…. and I think even as an angel you’re capable of sharing that terrifying little part of humanity. All I can tell you is that I’m here for you dude, as trite as that sounds.”

Cas can only nod, his gaze resting soulfully on Sam’s comforting hand.

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

That’s it for today! I’ll be back in a couple of days with Part 2, where we pick up with Dean.

Edit: This fic is now complete! 

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

[laurabk-writes]

SOULDIERS: Chapter One

(PG-13 for some swear words, if that matters to you)

A thumbs up had popped onto the screen of his smartwatch almost half an hour ago. The GPS didn’t show them as being quite that far away, but traffic was usually congested during that hour on a Monday. Zach tried to distract himself from worry by making sure everything was ready for their return home. The large shaker coffee table was set with plates and forks, with each teen’s favorite drink set at their place. A folded towel sat ready at the center for when the curry could be taken off the stove. Their fleece blankets had been gathered and piled on the sofa along with all the loose decorative pillows of the room. But he had the feeling that something was missing.

He stepped back into the kitchen and glanced around, then he remembered: the pain relievers were still sitting on the countertop beneath their usual cabinet. He brought them into the living room and set them on the edge of the table, now seeing that everything was as it should be. Except for the missing people to occupy it.

Samae was the first to stumble in. The front door swung wearily open as she nearly tripped over the threshold. Zach finally began to feel relieved, until he saw the whole girl. It was difficult to tell where the girl’s long black hair ended and the rest of her began. She was covered head to toe in deep black soot and carried the sharp odor of burning hair. But once inside, she held up her hand to stop him from speaking.

“I am fine,” she said in a halfhearted tone. “I just need a shower.” She dropped her backpack by the sofa, kicked off her shoes, and lumbered toward the stairs.

Shortly after, a shorter young woman burst in - Micha. “I said I’m sorry!” she called after Samae. When Samae didn’t respond but progressed up the stairs, Micha huffed. “Fine.” She turned to Zach, only just noticing him standing there. “She’s fine, it’s fine, we’re all fine. Just some accidental friendly fire is all.” She paused to sniff the air. “You made curry?”

Zach simply nodded.

“Ugh! Damnit, I can’t stay, I have an early morning tomorrow.”

Zach held up a finger to signal for her to wait as he disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tupperware full of curry for her.

“Okay,” she said, “it’s a bit scary that you know me this well already, but not as scary as me wanting to tell you how much I love you right now.” She yanked him closer to plant a quick, rough kiss on his forehead, then left with tupperware in hand.

He hardly had time to recover before Gabriele came through the door. She stopped on the doormat to take off her shoes and gently set them aside on the shoe rack. She seemed calm, aside from one of her low-pulled, rose-blonde pigtails hanging loose, missing its hair tie.

“Hi, Zach,” she said with her usual polite smile. “Sorry it took a little while. Micha’s tire had a leak and she had to replace it.”

“That’s alright,” Zach said. He wanted to request that next time they would text him about that sort of thing, but he knew he had to give them a certain amount of trust. The thumbs up meant that everyone was alive and well and on their way home, and he needed to let that be. “Go ahead and sit down. You all can tell me about it after we eat.”

Gabriele nodded and took her seat at the coffee table where the bottled peach iced tea was placed. She picked up the remote, turned on the TV, and tried to remember where they had left off the previous night with their favorite show.

Zach knew that Ana and Cass were coming next because he could hear them from down the driveway. They continued arguing as they stepped inside and took off their shoes.

“No, no, that’s not how it works!” Cass insisted as he dropped a shoe onto the shoe rack. The shoe lost its balance and tumbled to the floor. “It’s not enough that a pig would have wings, it would need some big-ass wings to carry its weight. Birds can fly because their bones are hollow and it makes them light enough to fly, and they probably don’t have as much fat in their body mass index as pigs.”

“Hollow bones?” Ana asked, bewildered as her shoe went flying and hit the side of the sofa. Her backpack bounded after it. “What?! Wouldn’t their organs crush them or something?”

“Bones are still made of harder stuff than organs. It’s like packing pretzels into a bag of marshmallows.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Fine, I’m googling it!” he declared as he took out his phone.

They barely paused their discussion as they went to take their seats at the coffee table. Five down, one to go. And the last one wasn’t far behind. Rapha shut and locked the door behind her after coming inside. She sighed heavily as though catching her breath and gave Zach an eyeroll with a crooked grin.

“Hey, Zach,” she said as she took a moment to lean against the door, holding a paper bag of groceries. “How’s it goin’?”

“Pretty good,” he replied, more casually than he felt at the moment. “Where was it this time?”

“Midtown, near the public pool. But it’s okay.” She put her shoes on the rack then pat him on the shoulder. “Target subdued, no one hurt. Just a bent fence and a flat tire.”

“Gabriele told me about the tire.”

She cocked her head with her brows knit. “I texted you. Didn’t I text you?” She looked down at her smartwatch, tapped it a couple times, then whined: “Fuuuuuck. I missed that other button again. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay now,” he assured her, “just sit down.”

Zach took the bag of groceries to the kitchen for her, while Rapha took her seat at the coffee table, just in time for Gabriele to turn on the next episode of their latest favorite Australian sitcom called Razorwire. Zach turned off the stove and brought out the large pot of curry, placing it on the center of the table. Everyone took turns doling out their own portion, remaining mostly quiet as they ate and watched. Zach took his own portion and sat behind them on the sofa with a can of cola. He wasn’t as big a fan of the show as the others were, but at least it was better than that British one with the talking partridge. That was two and a half seasons of pure torture.

As usual, Ana fell straight asleep as soon as she finished eating, leaning back against the sofa, her head of billowing brown curls adding padding to the cushion. But everyone else was available to talk. Zach unplugged his laptop computer from its perch on the side table, set it on his lap, and booted it up.

“It was midtown,” he mumbled as he began typing, “near the public pool. That’s Ingolfsson Memorial Aquatic Center. Right in the middle of a neighborhood of two-story ranch houses with a dog in every front yard.”

Gabriele raised her hand slightly. “I think I saw a cat in the window of one of them.”

“That’s nice to hear,” he remarked as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “So. How’d it go down?”

Though only just graduated from high school and not that much older than any of them, Zach had always commanded an authority that none of them felt free to question - not even Micha, who was the oldest of them all, nearing twenty-one years old. So when he saw them silently exchanging glances, he could tell they were debating just how much to fudge the truth, and who would be best at doing that. They eventually shrugged and joined in on looking to one person, deferring to Rapha to speak. Now he knew they would try for the truth. She thoughtfully combed her fingers through her auburn hair to loose a knot before speaking.

“Micha made the call. She was swimming at the pool after work. There was this guy, she thought maybe in his mid-thirties, who came through the building and just stood at the side of the pool looking around. He was in a full business suit. Not exactly subtle, really.” She shrugged to her compatriots. “Micha said that it seemed like he was looking right past her, like at the girl swimming behind her, and that’s when he activated his magic.”

“Did anyone notice him vanishing?” Zach asked, typing all the while he was listening.

“Oh. Micha didn’t say. And we forgot to ask.”

“Okay. What then?”

Rapha hesitated as she tried to remember what else Micha had said. “Micha activated her magic right away. She said it should have looked like she just ducked into the water, not vanished. She built up a wave and sent it right at him. He got knocked against the building. A couple people on the lounge chairs nearby got splashed, but they were alright. Then she beeped for all of us.”

“About what time was that again?”

“4:45.”

“Right right. Cass was home, Ana was still at school for machinists club, I had sent Rapha to the store...Gabriele, where were you at the time?”

Gabriele blinked. “Um. I was in the backyard.”

Zach winced. “That’s right, you were reading on the swing, I’m sorry.”

Cass nudged Gabriele, saying, “Well, she just crept around the back like a ninja, after all. Didn’t even say ‘hi’.”

“I was just - ” Gabriele began to protest.

“Don’t...” Cass said with a smirk. “I was just messin’ with you.”

Zach looked up from his laptop for a moment, his eyes straight ahead as he mentally made sure he had then accounted for each member of the group. “And Micah at the pool. Oh, Samae. Where was she?”

Rapha answered, “She was on her way to the pool. The same pool.”

“Got it. Go on.”

Rapha went on to describe supernatural events in a very matter-of-fact manner. Each member of the group arrived to the pool as Micah fended off the man in the suit by violently manipulating the water. All the surrounding patrons managed to flee the scene without serious injury, including the girl that the man originally had meant to attack. At one point, Gabriele was knocked into the water and struggled to keep afloat in the choppy waves, but her pixies were able to pull her out of danger. The battle wasn’t easy, but the team was fairly well in sync. Up to the incident.

“So when did Micah catch Samae on fire?” Zach asked. He asked as though he were a teacher asking a college student what the sum of two and two is. But the group hesitated as though calculating the square root of pi.

Rapha spoke up: “Well, we were having a hard time figuring out what the enemy souldier’s power was. See, this one time that a wave was going at him, he held out his hand, and it froze in place. So Micah thought that he probably had some kind of frost magic. So she threw a fireball at it to see if it would melt, but it bounced off and flew over toward Samae. She dodged out of the way before it hit her full-force, but um...she still got singed a bit.”

Zach didn’t look up from his laptop as he continued to type. “So maybe we don’t test things by throwing fire at them from now on.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll call her in the morning.”

As if on cue, Samae came down the stairs in pajamas, her hair combed but still a little damp. She scooped herself a portion of curry without hesitation, glad to see there was still some steam rising from it. There was a large scorch mark on her right wrist.

“Are you okay?” Gabriele asked.

“A couple burns,” Samae answered between bites. “It took almost half a bottle of shampoo to get all the ashes out.”

Zach nodded. “Just be sure to sit with Rapha before you go to bed.”

Samae nodded but continued eating. “Did you put pears in this?”

“Apples,” Zach corrected.

She smiled a little as she took another bite.

Everyone else sat silent as Zach finished typing something. Then he looked up at them. “Were you able to figure out his magic?”

“We thought maybe,” Cass said, “some kind of kinetic energy thing?”

“So he moved things as well as froze them?”

After thinking a moment and silently conferring with his comrades, he stuttered, “I...I don’t think...so? Just froze things?”

“Just one thing at a time?”

Gabriele piped up, “There was one time where he froze Rapha, then it looked like he tried to freeze Cass, but it didn’t really work.”

Zach nodded pensively. “What happened to him, the enemy souldier? Rapha said you guys subdued him?”

“We did. But then he disappeared.”

“Like disappeared from you, or just became invisible like you all do with humans?”

“Disappeared from us.”

Zach stared at his laptop screen a moment, tapping his fingers against his tightly drawn mouth. “Okay. Thank you. You can go back to your show now.”

Cass switched the TV back on as everyone turned their attention away from Zach. Ana suddenly jolted up, awake. She looked around at very much the same scene she fell asleep to, but checking the time confirmed that she probably missed the debriefing. But no one said anything as she pulled her purple fleece blanket off the sofa and around her shoulders to watch the show with them.

Eventually, they collected their dishes and loaded the dishwasher. Then the girls climbed upstairs to their bedrooms to sleep. Cass went to his bedroom on the first floor, closing his door more loudly than he intended. Rapha remained behind, intently watching Zach as he continued work on his laptop.

She spoke up: “You’re getting some sleep at some point too, right?”

“Yes, I will get some sleep,” he said softly as he took off his glasses to massage his eyes and the bridge of his nose.

She rose to her feet with a soft smile. “Thank you for the most excellent curry.”

“You are most welcome. Goodnight.”

Rapha accepted that as a cue to leave him be. So she bid goodnight and went upstairs. Zach put his laptop back on the side table and plugged it in. He stretched himself out across the sofa, shifting until he was comfortable. He intended to do some more thinking, but could only manage one half-formed thought before drifting off to sleep.

[fire-bear]

13 and 17 with Ladynoir! :)

This is #13. #17 to follow once I’ve written it.

Note 1: I’ve not seen the Christmas episode or any of season 2 so this is based on what I’ve seen so far.

Note 2: This either occurs before Stormy Weather and The Puppeteer happen. Or it happens in a slightly different universe where Manon wasn’t involved in them. Either way, Manon has never met Adrien. Or, because she’s 5 and she met him in different circumstances, she doesn’t remember him? I dunno. Whatever.

Manon’s Christmas Present

“How am Isupposed to get her that, Alya?!” exclaimed Marinette, pacingaround her room. “It’s impossible!”

“Now, honey,don’t be like that,” Alya replied from where she sat backwardson Marinette’s rolling chair. “It’s not impossible.”

“Whydoes she even likehim?!” Marinette cried, throwing her hands in the air.

“Because ofthis.” Alya waved her phone to gain Marinette’s attention beforeturning it around. Marinette rushed towards her, grabbed her handsand pulled the phone closer, squinting at the screen. She instantlyblushed.

There,in all his glory, was Adrien. His blond hair was swept back, hisgreen eyes gazed happily at the camera as if it was where hebelonged. A black scarf was draped around Adrien’s shoulders,artfully situated so that people could see the t-shirt he wore, whatappeared to be a yo-yo printed onto red fabric, black dots litteringit. Underneath was a caption: Get your kids the latestLadybug fashion, for girls andboys.

Marinette grinneddopily at his visage before Alya managed to extricate her hands andpull the phone away. Pouting at her friend, Marinette stepped over toperch on the edge of her desk. “Urgh! Why’d he have to go and dosomething like that?”

“Daddy dearestprobably told him to,” Alya pointed out. “Besides, you knowhe likes Ladybug – he probably jumped through hoops for theopportunity.”

“Right, okay,Adrien is amazing – but we both knew that.”

“Sure,”said Alya, raising a pointed eyebrow. Marinette barely noticed andkept ranting.

“AndI can understand her wanting some of the merchandise,” Marinettecontinued, despite trying not to blush at the idea of it. “Buthow did she find out he’s in my class?! And why does she want meto ask him? That is not going to go well.”

“Come on, girl,” Alya said,looking amused. “It’s not that hard. All you have to do is get himto meet you in the park.”

Marinette stared ather for a moment until what she had said sunk in. “You mean ask himon a date?!!” she cried.

Alya laughed. “Nowthat I think about it, that might be the hardest point. But she looksup to you, Marinette. That’s why she’s asked you for this.”

“Urgh!”Marinette stood, took a few steps over to her sofa and collapsed facedown onto it. For a few moments, she sullenly waved her legs in theair, wondering what she could do about the situation. There wasdefinitely no way she could ask Adrien - it was so embarrassing!She’d look sostupid.Maybe she could leave a letter for him on his desk and tell Manon tobe wherever and no-one would be any the wiser. Or she could shovethem in a room together and lock the door behind them.

Oh! She couldtransform into Ladybug and ask Adrien that way!

Atapping on her leg gained her attention. Alya smiled at her when sheturned her head so she could look at her friend. “It really won’tbe as bad as you think it will. He’s not going to think you’restupidorsomething. I bet he’ll say yes, becauseit’syou!”

Marinette smiled atAlya, comforted by her kind – and probably mistaken – words.“Really…?”

“Ofcourse, girl! And I’ll be nearby for moral support!”

“Um,okay.”

At school the next day,while Adrien and Nino were hanging out in the courtyard, Alya draggedMarinette towards them. Marinette kept her gaze fixed on the stringsof tinsel draped across the ceiling and walls. Chloe had alreadycomplained, wanting lights and flashier decorations. Everyone hadtheir fingers crossed that it wouldn’t happen as they wouldn’t beable to move through the halls if she had her way.

Suddenly, Marinettewas pulled to a stop and tugged around so that Alya could look ather. “All right, girl. This is it. You know what you want to say?”

Marinette glanced atthe boys. Adrien was laughing at something Nino had said and lookedas handsome as usual. She whimpered. “I can’t do thi-” she began.

Alya shook her untilMarinette was blinking at her in surprise. “No negative thoughts,”Alya reminded her. “What is it you’re going to say?”

“‘Canyou meet me in the park after school?’”

“Andhave you asked Manon to be there?”

“I’vetold her mother what’s going on and they should be there,”Marinette answered.

“Thenyou’re all set! Go!” And, twirling Marinette around, Alya shovedher towards Adrien.

Marinette stumbled afew steps but managed to keep upright. She glanced back at Alya whogrinned and gave her a thumbs up. Over her shoulder, Marinettespotted Chloe, her eyes narrowing as she spotted the nervous look onMarinette’s face. Quickly, Marinette spun around and walkedhesitantly onward, taking one long, confident stride for every threeshort, hesitant ones.

“Okay,”she muttered to herself. “Okay. You can do this. Nothing’s goingto go wrong. Everything’s fine.”

Hearing the clasp ofher bag open, Marinette looked down to see Tikki beaming up at her.“You can do this, Marinette!” the little kwami declared. “Ibelieve in you so believe in yourself!”

Marinette couldn’thelp but smile at her. “Thanks, Tikki.”

By that point,Marinette was nearing the boys so Tikki hid and Marinette’s bag shut.Steeling herself with a deep breath, Marinette jogged the last fewsteps. She was only a few steps from them when she caught her foot onthe ground and promptly tumbled intothem with a yelp. Her eyes widened as it looked as though Adrien wasgoing to catch her. Then Nino turned to see what the noise was, movedinto her path, and caught her instead. He set her onto her feet,eyebrows raised.

“Woah,there, Marinette! What’s the rush?”

“Ah,er, sorry,” Marinette replied with a little giggle, her handrubbing the back of her head nervously. Adrien was watching her andshe could feel her heart racing, her breath shaky. She shyly glancedat him and tried to remember what she was meaning to say. “I…Well, I… Adrien…”

“Youwanted to talk to me?” asked Adrien, tilting his head slightly.Strands of hair shifted across his forehead and Marinette wanted toswoon at how pretty that looked. Somehow, she managed to hold herselftogether and tried valiantly to remember the question.

“Er.Um. Park with me?!” she practically shouted. As soon as she saidit, she could almost hear Tikki’s facepalm.

“Huh?”said Adrien.

“I-I-I,um…”

“Areyou trying to ask Adrien to go to the park with you?” askedNino, looking at his phone.

Marinetteblinked. “Yes. How did you know?”

“Alyajust messaged me.”

“Oh.”

“Youwant to go to the park? With all our friends?” asked Adrien,looking rather happy.

“Ah,er, no. I’m… I’m sorry but I babysit this little girl and, uh, shedesperately wants to meet you as a Christmas present. See, I askedwhat she’d want from me and she asked me to ask you to let her meetyou. But, of course, I told her no but then Alyasaid it couldn’t hurt and, well, she’ll be in the park afterschool…” Marinette trailed off and allowed herself to take abreath.

“Wow,really?” said Adrien. “Well, that seems like it’ll be morefun than just going straight home! I’ll come with you to the park.”

“What,really?” asked Marinette, dumbfounded.

“Yes.”Adrien smiled at her in an encouraging manner and she smiled dopilyin return.

“Okay.Wow. Yeah, cool. Okay. I’ll… see you after school, then.”

Adriennodded and, before she could embarrass herself any further, Marinetteturned and dashed back to Alya on shaky legs. As soon as she reachedher friend, Alya grabbed hold of her shoulders and drew her to abench they could sit on.

“Well?”she demanded.

“Hesaid yes,” Marinette said, a little absently. She felt as if shewas floating, extremely happy with the outcome.

“Didyou tell him about Manon?” asked Alya, speaking slowly andclearly so that Marinette understood.

“Yeah.”

“Thenthe only thing left for you to do is to ask him on a proper dateafter he meets Manon,” Alya said, folding her arms and smirkingdown at Marinette.

Blinking,Marinette fell heavily back to Earth. “What?”

Adrientold Marinette that he’d forgotten his phone and told her that he’dcatch up. Marinette was a little relieved as she hadn’t preparedanything to talk to him about. She made her way to the park, worryingto Tikki about how to ask Adrien on a date as Alya had suggested. Orwhat to talk about.

Assoon as she walked through the gate, however, she was distracted by acry of her name. Giggling, Marinette caught Manon as she camebarrelling towards her. Lifting her up, Marinette spun with her,their scarves trailing behind them, until Manon was giggling as well.Then she settled Manon on her hip and carried her towards her mother.

“Hi,Marinette!” Manon peeked beyond Marinette’s shoulder and thenlooked back at Marinette, blinking. “Where’s Adrien?”

“He’llbe here soon; don’t worry!”

“Yay!”she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air while Marinette steadiedher. Beaming at Manon, Marinette placed her on the ground and greetedMrs. Chamack, exchanging a few pleasantries while Manon ran aroundthem in excitement. Eventually, Manon stopped with a gasp andcollided with Marinette’s legs. “Adrien!” she cried.

“Hi!”called a familiar voice and, fighting down a blush, Marinette turnedto see Adrien jogging towards them, hand lifted in greeting.Marinette waved back, almost hitting herself in the face, and waitedtill he’d gotten close enough to put a hand on Manon’s head.

“Thisis Manon,” she told him.

Manonblinked her deep, brown eyes up at Adrien. Then she shyly smiled andgiggled. “You’re Adrien.”

“That’sright,” said Adrien, smiling as he went down on one knee tospeak to her. “I hear you liked the things I modelled for theLadybug collection.”

“Yes!”Manon declared, rushing forward to grab his hands. Marinette triednot to get jealous. “No-one believed me, you know.”

“Hm?”

“Itold them I was going to get to meet you for a Christmas present andthey told me I was being stupid.”

“Well,we’ll just need to take lots of pictures, won’t we?” saidAdrien, smiling wide. “And I’ll make sure to sign some-”Before he had finished, Manon darted away and tugged at her bag.

“Mama!”she cried until Mrs. Chamack lowered the bag enough. As soon as Manoncould reach, she unzipped it with such force that Marinette winced.Then Manon pulled out a Ladybug notebook and rushed back to Adrien.“Sign this!” she demanded, opening it up to reveal cut-outsfrom magazines pasted inside. Marinette peered closer and realisedthat they were all of Adrien wearing various Ladybug merchandise.

Nodding,Adrien pulled out a pen from his own bag and wrote out a message forher before signing. “There. Will that do?”

Manonspun the book around and read it, her lips moving. Then, slowly, sheblushed and nodded. “Yeah! Pictures!”

WhileNadja pulled out a camera and Manon pulled Adrien into differentposes, Marinette stood to the side and watched them. She couldn’thelp but smile: Adrien was a natural with kids. He was so open andcarefree – and completely gorgeous. Sighing, Marinette was startledwhen her handbag opened just enough for Tikki to peek out.

“Areyou going to ask him on a date?” she asked, curiously.

Marinettegulped. “I’m not sure. What if he says no? What if he feelsterrible for sayingno? It’s Christmas. I don’t want to upset him…”

Tikkihummed in consideration. “Well, don’t do anything you’reuncomfortable with. Ah!” she added, suddenly struck with athought. Marinette made a questioning hum. “What if heasks you on a date?”

BeforeMarinette could reply, Tikki disappeared and Marinette saw Manonrunning towards her from the corner of her eye. Turning to her at thelast moment, Marinette was quite unprepared for Manon’s arms wrappingaround her legs. With a cry, Marinette waved her arms around in anattempt at balance, failed and fell backwards. Manon didn’t seem tonotice for she immediately clambered onto Marinette’s stomach to giveher a proper hug.

“Thankyou, Marinette!” she said, sweetly. “That was amazing! Waituntil my friends find out!”

“They’regoing to be so surprised!” Marinette agreed, patting Manon’shead.

Mrs.Chamack called on Manon and the little girl scrambled off ofMarinette, waving to her as she rushed off. Marinette sat up anddusted herself off. She was just about to clamber to her feet when ahand appeared in front of her. Surprised, she looked up to see Adriensmiling down at her.

“Needhelp?” he asked.

“Thanks,”murmured Marinette as she accepted it.

Adrienpulled her to her feet and waited while she brushed dirt and dust offherself. When she’d finished, he pushed his hands into his pockets,looking rather nonchalant. “Have you got anything to do now?”he asked.

“Huh?No,” Marinette answered.

“Neitherhave I – except for homework. Would you like to do something funwith me? I expected that to take longer and nobody will be lookingfor me until dinnertime.”

Marinettegaped at him. “Right now?” she asked.

Laughing,Adrien nodded. “Yeah.”

“Likea da-” Marinette began, thoughtlessly. She was saved from makinga fool of herself by the screams. Shocked, they both turned to lookwhere they thought they’d heard them and watched in horror as a freaksnowstorm blasted across the road Manon and her mother had taken togo home.

Thatmade Marinette’s decision for her.

“Oh!I’ve just remembered that I said I’d help my parents with somethingso I have to go,” Marinette hastily explained to Adrien.

“Ah.Okay. I should probably get that homework out of the way,”Adrien said, grimacing at Marinette. “I’ll see you tomorrow atschool.”

“Sure!”

Theyparted ways, each running off to a different corner of the park.Marinette kept watch over her shoulder until Adrien was out of sight,thankfully not tripping up while her attention was divided. Once shecouldn’t see him, she darted off the path and hid behind the bushes.She opened her handbag to find Tikki’s determined face looking backat her, ready for action.

“Tikki,spots on!”

I wasn’t entirely sure what to do when Manon met Adrien so it became this ‘almost asking out on a date thing’ instead… Sorry. ^^”

[luninosity]

And the epilogue - and therefore the actual writing - of Prophecy is complete! Time to send it in to the editors! (I told them about two weeks; this is really closer to one, so maybe we can indeed find ways to shorten some of that 10-month publication process...)

Here, have a piece of the epilogue! (If you read the Evanstan fic version, by the way, this bit is all new - actually the whole story is about twice as long, from 17,452 words to 35,859 words!) (also you can come and order a copy here, if you would like! it should be out roughly around October!) (also for the record there is - in the epilogue, along with some politics and kingdom-merging - one very PG-13 sex scene, nothing explicit, and actually the sex bit is offscreen - we pretty much stop with them naked and looking at each other and happy)

##

Oliver had just got Tir tucked into bed, propped up by pillows and concerned woolly blankets, when the knock came; they shrugged at each other, and Ollie called back, “Come in.” He didn’t want his fairy to move; Tir claimed to be no worse than normal but had been leaning on him more after the stairs, and had cold hands. He’d been planning to grab the latest novel and read aloud until Tirian fell asleep.

 The knock turned into Lyle; their family butler and general font of palace-related knowledge cleared his throat. “We were wondering how Tirian was feeling; Ben said you had to leave the table, upstairs. You know I can always summon the doctor if you’d like.”

 “He’s—”

 “He’s fine,” Tir put in, peeking around Ollie’s shoulder. “Only tired. Thank you, though.”

 “Oh,” Lyle said, radiating paternal worry and pride, “of course you’d be, those big feasts would tire out anybody, all those courses and polite conversation, not to mention you’re barely up and about most days, would you like anything else, then? A tray, extra blankets, the fire lit? We’d meant to have it going but you came down so soon, not that that’s a problem, indeed not.”

 “I think,” Oliver started, meaning to say no, meaning to simply close out the world and shelter Tir alone, “we—” Those fingers in his were cold. Rain hit the cool translucent glass of Tir’s bedroom window, and poured silken ribbons over ancient castle mortar and new-grown climbing vines, and fell noisily to the ground far below.  “A fire would be nice. We won’t need anything else for the night, but if you could light one, we’d be grateful.”

 “No trouble at all.” Lyle vanished; Tir, Ollie discovered, was laughing silently.

 “He thinks we’re still twelve, doesn’t he…”

 “Permanently. Sorry. He was lecturing the castle into tidiness before I was born. Are you comfortable? Want anything?”

 “Only you. Come kiss me?”

 They were deliciously engaged in exactly that when Lyle and two log-bearing footmen appeared, accompanied by Meadowsweet the second housemaid and young Polly, who worked in the kitchen or wherever errands sent her around the palace. They came in laden down with trays of covered dishes; Ollie dove for the closest one and made hasty space on Tir’s bedside desk, and tried not to think about what his hair and lips and shirt-collar looked like. Tir’s mouth was willing and tempting and thoroughly kissed.

 He sat back down on the bed, crossed his legs, and inquired, with regard to the army of trays, “What in the name of the Great North—”

 “Well, and we thought you might be hungry,” Meadow said, “having missed the feast and all, and Tir needs strength, you know,” and added one more plate to the table: blonde, cheerful, stubborn as an older sister. “Nothing fancy or fiddly, but good ham and some cheddar biscuits and my mum’s lemongrass chicken soup. It’ll warm you up.”

 “Tea?” He investigated the silver pot.

 Polly beamed at him. She had mismatched eyes, some silver-streaked fairy legacy someplace in her orphan past; she’d pestered Tir, in calmer days, to examine her for any other signs of magic. “Chocolate. Nice and hot and dark and sweet. We know what he likes.”

 Tir took a sip of hot chocolate, and beamed right back at her. His cheeks were pinker, flushed by kisses and steam; his hair was tucked behind one ear, because Ollie’s hand had run through it, stroking it into place. Under blankets, with pillows and soft happy eyes, he looked cuddly and cherished and very much loved. Ollie had done that.

 His chest expanded with pride.

 The fire leapt upwards, hearty and hot.

 The collected palace staff looked at Tir, and then at Oliver, and then at each other, and hastily vacated the room in order to perform unspecified other tasks. Lyle put his head back in to order, “Oliver, don’t tire that boy out!” and then closed the door definitively behind him, keeping them secluded.

 “Hmm,” Tir said. “Imagine the new additions to the ballads. Ravished by a human.”

 “I’ve been told not to tire you out,” Ollie pointed out, and fed him pieces of ham and cheddar biscuits for a while. He tried not to think about ravishment. He couldn’t help it now. Especially when Tir kissed his fingers after a bite, and those eyes sparkled.

 He might’ve thought, if he’d had room to give it any thought, that kissing his best friend, the boy with whom he’d grown up and learned to use a telescope and gone through sword-training in the practice-yard, could be awkward. It hadn’t been.

 It’d been easy. It’d been another piece of who they were together, new and familiar. A homecoming after a long journey away. A rediscovery, with clearer sight.

 He wanted Tirian rather desperately, he’d found out. He wanted to know it all. To kiss every inch of what he’d once taken for granted. To learn.  

 Tir looked up from chicken soup. “Can I ask you a question?”

 “Sure, anything you want, go ahead.” He took the soup bowl when his fairy appeared to be done, and set it out of the way. The fire gossiped to the rain, cozy; he’d kicked boots off and let one leg dangle to the floor, sitting on the side of Tir’s bed. “If it’s about the wedding, I’m drawing the line at the white samite floor-length robes suggestion, thanks. I’d spill something on it at the first fitting. You know I would.”

 “I like the way you look in blue,” Tir said. “All sort of blue and gold and big and tawny. Like an oversized version of that historical sun-god from the old Southern kingdoms. With a pencil behind your ear. Sorry, what was I asking you?”

 “You got as far as asking whether you could ask me a question, and I said yes. The sun-god who gets chopped into pieces and swallowed by an alligator?”

 “And brought back to life, and it’s a metaphor for the flood season. No. Um. I remember. You don’t…it’s not because you don’t want me, right?”

 “Because I don’t what,” Oliver said, or thought he said. His lips moved, at least.

 “We keep stopping,” Tir explained, sitting up. The hair got in his eyes again. “You—you kiss me, because I ask you to, and then you stop and pull away and—and tell me you don’t want to tire me out, or you’re worried about me breathing unevenly, or—or whatever it is next time, and I know I’ve wanted you for years but this is new for you and if you don’t—”

 Ollie dove across the bed. Ended that sentence right there. Tir’s arms slid around him, holding him close, pulling him down on top. Ravishment, he thought, fairy-stories, seduction, and love. He demanded, lips brushing lips, kisses between words, “You think I don’t want you?”

 “I said I was trying not to think you didn’t want me—”

 “I am worried.” They’d ended up sprawled across the bed, Tir on his back amid pillows, hair dark and long against creamy sheets, eyes wide and not yet convinced but wanting to be, hopeful grey rivers under clouds. Ollie took his own weight, balanced atop him. “I don’t want to—to—we might, I don’t know, set back your recovery or something—”

 “I asked Fadi, you adorable rutabaga.” Tir managed to kick him in the calf, no force behind it; the rivers got exultantly relieved by life-giving downpours. “Which you could’ve done if you were worried. He said I should be fine as long as we don’t try anything more than usually strenuous, and also that it’s about time we got around to this, because he was tempted to lock us in a broom closet.”

 “You and the root vegetable comparisons,” Oliver grumbled, nibbling at his lips, his throat, the enticing little spot just below his jaw. “Is that a thing? Do you have a thing about root vegetables? Should I bring a carrot to bed? And is this okay?”

 “I do not have a thing about—oh yes that’s very much okay, thank you—remind me to make a joke about the size of your carrot—” They were mostly dressed; he’d gotten Tir out of the top layer of banquet clothes and into a quilted robe, earlier, but hadn’t bothered with himself. The robe was nice; he could slide hands under it. Apparently the hands could make his fairy stop talking and gasp in pleasure. He did that again. Tir made a delighted tiny sound, a sound that went straight to his heart and shivered down his spine and made his toes tingle, a sound he’d remember hearing for the first time forever.

 Nimble fairy-fingers were unlacing his shirt; they ran over his chest, curious and enchanted. “I admit to having had dreams about this…every time we went swimming, or you ran around the training yard in the summer with your shirt off…”

 “Okay, unfair, now you have to tell me about those dreams—” His fingers froze on Tir’s hip. “You. Um. You, um. That—it’s not just—you have, um. In. Sort of. Reality. Have you?”

 “What?” Tir managed to give him a quizzical head-tilt while lying down. “Would you please get back to what you were doing? I liked what you were doing. I love your hands. Artistic hands.”

 “Tir,” Ollie said, not moving the hands, “that’s—that’s not helping.” Tir liked what he’d been doing. This sounded a lot like someone who hadn’t tried that, or the other thing, or the soon to be next thing, before. “You, ah…you know our wedding…”

 “Yes,” Tir said, with the expression of a man trying to be patient but on the verge of kicking Ollie in the calf again, “our wedding, what about it?”

 “The, um…the wedding…night…”

 “Are you inquiring about the mechanics? I’m quite certain you know what we’re doing. You said as much to me after nearly every experience you had, growing up.”

 “No! I mean, no, I’m so sorry about—how did you ever put up with me, I was awful, I’m awful to you, why didn’t you throw a book at my head—not, um, not me…are you, you know…you haven’t, um…” Now would be a perfect time for magical underhearing. It refused to assist.

  Tir’s mouth fell open. This was unfairly attractive, though that might be because he was lying in bed with legs parted for Oliver to lie between, robe puddled in quilted invitation beneath him. “Are you trying to ask whether I’m a virgin?”

[reallygroovyninja]

This took me forever to fill out and my answers are boring

Random Questions for LGBT Ladies #LGBTask

Random Questions for LGBT Ladies #LGBTask

Below are some questions pertaining to LGBT+ women, conveniently categorized. Have others send you random numbers (there’s 130 of them), or simply answer them yourself. Please reblog!

 SEXUALITY & COMING OUT:

1. How do you define your sexuality? Lesbian

2. What pronouns do you use to identify yourself? Me, Myself and I – I am not into the whole pronoun thing

3. At what age did you first suspect that you are sexually attracted to other girls? 11 or 12

4. At what age did you come to terms with your sexuality? 17

5. Did you have an “aha I like girls” moment or was it more of a gradual realization? It was a more gradual realization

6. How did your sexuality make you feel before you came out? Confused af

7. How did you become comfortable with your sexuality? Talking to someone who made me realize my feelings were ok to have.

8. At what age did you first come out? 18

9. Who was the first person you came out to? How did they take it? A friend and she stated ”About damn time”  

10. Do your parents know about your sexuality? My dad had already passed away so I don’t know if he ever suspected. I am betting he did and yes, my mom knows.

11. How out are you? Very. I don’t hide the fact

12. Do you now identify as something different than when you first came out? I do. I kinda waffled with bi for a year or so.

13. Was anyone surprised when you came out or did people seem to already know? I think most people suspected my attraction to females

14. Has coming out lost you any friends? Not that I was aware of. Coming out when I did at 18 and then moving out of state for college I lost contact with people.

15. How soon after meeting someone do you usually tell them about your sexuality? I judge the situation. It does come out eventually but I am not going to advertise it in work situations etc.

16. How difficult do you find it to sympathize with straight women? I have no problem with it

17. Have you ever wished you were completely straight? No

18. Agree or disagree: Everyone is at least a little bit gay. – Anyone could be a little bit gay in the right situation

19. If you are not a lesbian, about what percentage of the time you find yourself attracted to other girls? n/a

20. Do you think it is possible to be a true 50/50 bisexual, or is the percentage always skewed towards one gender? Most bisexuals I have met have said I am bisexual but lean towards whatever. I guess it’s possible to be attracted to either sex equally

21. How often do you find yourself trying to sneak a peek or staring at a cute girl? When I was single I would do it all the time

22. How accurate is your gaydar? I think when they were passing out gaydar I got in the line for male gaydar. I can pick a gay man out of a crowded room but be totally oblivious to women.

 RELATIONSHIPS & DATING:

23. What is your current relationship status? Married

24. What is the longest relationship you’ve been in? Are you still with that person? 8 years and yes

25. Do you remember anything about the first time you kissed another girl? I was nervous and I remember thinking fuck I am actually kissing a girl.

26. Are you a virgin? If not, what gender did you lose your virginity to? Sorry not a gold star lesbian

27. What is your ideal first date? Something simple like a walk in the park just getting to talk with each other

28. What personality trait are you most attracted to? It’s a toss-up between sense of humor and intelligence

29. How flirty are you? Not very flirty at all.

30. Would you ever want to get married, if not already? I am married

31 Do you want have children someday? Yes

32. Would you ever want to give birth? We decided as a couple if we had children I would try to conceive

33. How often are you asked if you have a boyfriend? Not as much now as when I was single

34. Have you ever liked or dated a girl with the same name as you? No

35. Have you ever been on your period the same time as a girlfriend? Unfortunately, yes

36. Have you and a girlfriend ever been mistaken for sisters? No

37. Have you ever been in a long-distance relationship? Yes

38. Have you ever dated a guy? Yes

39. Has a girl ever dumped you for a guy? Have you? Not that I am aware of and no

40. Has another girl ever hit on you? Yes

41. Have you ever had a crush on a straight girl? Of course, what lesbian hasn’t

42. Have you ever had a crush on a woman who’s significantly older than you? Yes, to a college professor

43. Would you ever date a trans woman? Hmm, I guess if I was attracted to them I could give it a shot

44. Have you ever had a profile on a LGBT dating website or app? yes

45. Where do you think is the best place to meet a potential lover? I don’t think there is a best place because I know people who have met their s/o in all kinds of different places.

46. Do you consider yourself a hopeless romantic? I am not a hopeless romantic but I can be very romantic when I want to be.

 PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:

47. Have you ever cut your hair super short? If not, would you ever want to? No and I think I would look weird with super short hair.

48. Is your nose pierced? No

49. What is your opinion on septum/bull nose piercings? Not my thing but I’m not going to judge you if you do.

50. Do you have any tattoos? If so, of what and where? No

51. How muscular are you? I will go with I am toned but far from muscular

52. Are you or have you ever been a tomboy? I was when I was little but grew out of it

53. Have you ever been told that you’re too pretty to be gay? Yes

54. Have you ever been mistaken as a dude? No

 FASHION STYLE:

55. Do you wear skirts and dresses? If so, how often? I do but not very often these days. The joys of being a work at home employee

56. Do you wear high heels? If so, how often? I can wear high heels but don’t do it very often

57. How much jewelry do you typically wear? I am not a big jewelry person so necklace, watch and normally my wedding band but it needs to be resized. My fingers are thinner now

58. How much makeup do you typically wear? I’m a minimalist unless the occasion calls for more

59. How often do you wear a bra? Every day

60. How often do you wear flannel? Only in the winter and on occasion.

61. Have you ever worn a suit? Not a men’s suit

62. Do you wear any shoes such as combat boots, Doc Martins or Timberlands? I live in the Northeast so everyone owns Tims for the winter

63. Do you carry a purse? Sometimes

64. Do you wear any hats such as snapbacks or beanies? Not very often but I do own a few

65. Have you ever worn any men’s clothing? I love men’s basketball shorts. So damn comfy and perfect for lounging around in  

66. Have you ever dressed in complete drag? No

67. Have you ever shared clothes with a girlfriend? Yes

68. If you want to get married, do you think you will wear a dress? I think if we renewed our vows I would

 ENTERTAINMENT:

69. Who is your favorite LGBT celebrity? I don’t think I have one

70. Have you ever watched The L Word? Some of the seasons

71. Have you ever watched Will & Grace? I have seen a few episodes

72. Have you ever watched RuPaul’s Drag Race? I have but I get annoyed with the bickering

73. How well do you feel LGBT women are portrayed on television? Stop killing off the gays and we would be in better shape

74. Do you listen to any LGBT musicians (i.e. Tegan & Sara, Melissa Etheridge, Chely Wright, Elton John, Sam smith, George Michael, Adam Lambert)? I don’t go out of my way to listen to them

75. Do you watch any LGBT YouTubers? Yes

76. Do you have a favorite LGBT themed movie? Not really

77. Do you have a favorite LGBT themed blog or website? I guess After Ellen

78. Do you read any LGBT magazines? No

79. Have you read any LGBT themed literature? If so, do you have any recommendations? I have but nothing I can think of to recommend at the moment

80. Is there such a thing as “good” lesbian porn? Considering most lesbian porn is for men to get off on it would seem there isn’t but some does exist.

 THIS OR THAT:

81. Boobs or butts? I do love both but its butts for me

82. Beer or wine? I don’t drink either. I am a hard liquor kind of girl

83. Ellen or Portia? I guess Portia. I am totally not into Ellen at all.

 BEING (SOMEWHAT) RANDOM:

84. How much do you like cats? I own one

85. Have you ever been to a gay bar or a gay club? Yes

86. How many LGBT friends do you have? A few

87. Do you have any LGBT relatives? I’m not that close to many of my relatives but I am sure there are a couple in there

88. Have you ever used any words (or variations of) such as lesbian, queer, gay, or homosexual as a password? Thanks for the suggestion I have never used any of those

89. How outdoorsy are you? I don’t consider myself outdoorsy

90. Have you ever driven an SUV, Jeep, or pickup truck? I do own an SUV

91. How many rainbow items do you own? I have a couple gay pride shirts

92. Have you ever celebrated National Coming Out Day (Oct. 11)? No

93. Have you ever participated in the National Day of Silence? Never heard of it

94. Have you ever attended a GSA (Gay Straight Alliance) type of club? Not even in college

95. Have you ever attended a PFLAG (Parents & Friends of Lesbians and Gays) meeting? No

96. Have you ever attended a gay or lesbian wedding? Yes

97. Have you ever been part of a softball team? In high school I was on the team

98. Do you skateboard or longboard at all? Not in a while. I would probably bust my ass skateboarding

99. Do you play any video games? That is my stress reliever at times

 FROM 1-10, HOW ATTRACTIVE ARE:

100. Muscular women? 4

101. Women who wear glasses? 10 – Glasses are fucking sexy

102. Women who are covered with tattoos? 4

103. Women who are covered with piercings? 1

104. Curvy/plus-sized women? 7 – I don’t mind curves at all

105. Women with short hair? 5

106. Highly intelligent women? 8

107. Tall women (i.e. around 1.83 meters/6 feet or taller)? 5

108. Masculine/butch women? 5

 GETTING SERIOUS:

109. What does equality mean to you? Just like the definition - the state of being equal, especially in status, rights, and opportunities.

110. Do you consider yourself a feminist? I do

111. Do you eat meat at all? I love a good steak

112. Are you religious at all? I’m not into organized religion but I have my beliefs

113. Did you vote for Hillary Clinton? Yes

114. How do you feel when platonic female friends refer to each other as girlfriends? Doesn’t bother me

115. How do you feel when people use the word gay to mean things such as stupid, dumb, boring, or idiotic? I dislike it

116. Are you comfortable with terms such as lezzie, lesbo, dyke, homo, or tranny? I don’t say them

117. What are your views on gender identity and bathroom use? Unisex bathrooms so we can end this debate

118. Do you have any opinions on LGBT people in the military? I have no problem with it at all.

119. Have you ever been called a gay slur? Yes

120. Have you ever been queer bashed? No

121. Have you ever been discriminated against because or your sexuality or gender identity? If so, please explain. No

122. Does it really get better? As I get older I find it does get better.

123. How did you feel on June 26, 2015? My marriage was finally legal

124. How accepting of LGBT people is the city/community you live in? I’ve never encountered an issue

125. Have you ever tried to “pray the gay away”? No

126. How annoyed are you with how heteronormative society is? Doesn’t bother me

127. What LGBT stereotype do you most disagree with?  gay men are feminine and less of a man because they are gay.

128. Is there anything about the LGBT community that you wish you knew before coming out? How judgmental some people are within the LGBT community  

129. What advice would you give to a girl who is struggling to figure out her sexuality? You don’t have to put a label on your sexuality. Sometimes it just takes time to figure things out.

130. What advice would you give to a girl who is struggling to come out? Don’t let people pressure you to come out. Do it on your own terms.

[flauntpage]

Your Wednesday Morning Roundup

The Phillies played 15 innings with the Miami Marlins. They won 9-8 on a Nick Williams walkoff double.

Speaking of their young core, Rhys Hoskins did the thing again. Twice.

Nos. 15 and 16 for No. 17.

( … In *just* career game No. 32.) http://pic.twitter.com/OScNQufbBh

— Phillies (@Phillies) September 13, 2017

Here’s some interesting Rhys stats:

At Bats needed for 16 career homers Babe Ruth – 368 Hank Aaron – 536 Barry Bonds – 378 RHYS HOSKINS – 112

— Matt Breen (@matt_breen) September 13, 2017

Phillies with more HR than Hoskins: Tommy Joseph 21, Maikel Franco, 20. MLB games they've played in 2017: Joseph 131, Franco 137, Hoskins 32

— Ryan Lawrence (@ryanlawrence21) September 13, 2017

Rhys Hoskins in 32 games:

16 HRs, 34 RBIs

Projects over 162 games:

81 HRs, 172 RBIs

#Phillies⚾️ http://pic.twitter.com/7bwheNDp3C

— John Clark CSN/NBC (@JClarkCSN) September 13, 2017

Nick Williams, who also joined MLB Tonight after the win, believes Hoskins is an alien, and Hoskins is fine with that:

Nick Williams on Rhys Hoskins:"He's an alien" Hoskins on Williams comments:"Guy is pretty good too, so I guess we can be alien friends".

— Jon Johnson (@jonjohnsonwip) September 13, 2017

The lineup was one that we could see come 2018, with a move or two in the infield. JP Crawford started at second base before moving to third in place of Maikel Franco.

Meanwhile, Nick Pivetta continues to struggle. He pitched five innings and gave up seven runs on eight hits while striking out four. He needs more work.

Phils-Fish again tonight. Aaron Nola for the Phils against Miami’s Dan Straily.

The roundup:

The Phillies and the Atlanta Braves joined forces to make special accommodations for Marlin families:

The Braves provided tickets to the Six Flags and Stone Mountain amusement parks and the World of Coca-Cola museum, along with free tickets to the games at SunTrust Park. When the Marlins arrived in the visiting clubhouse at Citizens Bank Park on Tuesday, they found a stack of complimentary tickets to the Franklin Institute, the Adventure Aquarium and the Philadelphia Zoo. Reliever Brad Ziegler said the Phillies also told the Marlins players they would be providing catered postgame food for family members.

“The Braves and Phillies have been unbelievable,” Ziegler said. “The Braves gave us a letter when we got there, and it basically said, ‘We’re sorry for the circumstances you’re in and we’re going to make your stay as comfortable as possible.’ They were extremely generous. It was right in line with Southern, Georgia hospitality.”

They also unveiled their 2018 schedule:

Mark your calendars!

We open the 2018 season in Atlanta 198 days from now: https://t.co/ahE8gOjOfI http://pic.twitter.com/zPDZEUBJsd

— Phillies (@Phillies) September 12, 2017

They might play the Mets in Williamsport as part of the MLB’s Little League Classic on August 19.

—

Turning to the Eagles, who made a number of moves yesterday:

IN: T Victor Salako, CB De’Vante Bausby (a former Kansas City Chief), K Jake Elliott OUT: CB C.J. Smith, WR Greg Ward IR: K Caleb Sturgis

With Sturgis on injured reserve, that means he’ll have to miss at least the next eight games, and he may have lost his job if Elliott can perform well in his absence. If not, he can be activated from IR after eight games and will be the first of the team’s two players they can take off of IR.

How did the local and national media react to the season opening win?

Kevin detailed the Eagles and their use of the “bubble screen.”

http://pic.twitter.com/hlTtUpULlR

— Chris Jastrzembski (@CFJastrzembski) September 10, 2017

Jim Schwartz isn’t trying to overthrow Doug Pederson’s reign as head coach.

It’s never too early to preview Big Red’s Kansas City Chiefs.

Also, former Eagles Randall Cunningham, Donovan McNabb, Ricky Watters, Terrell Owens, Eric Allen, Brian Dawkins, and former head coach Dick Vermeil were named nominees for the Pro Football Hall of Fame’s Class of 2018.

—

Sixers head coach Brett Brown thinks the next step in Joel Embiid’s development is his consistency to play top-tier basketball in the NBA.

Small forward Robert Covington was 55th in ESPN’s top 100 player rankings.

Stats & Info: You can make a case that no truly impact player flies under the radar more than Covington. Though he was named on just nine of 99 media ballot for All-Defense consideration, Covington led all non-bigs in Defensive Real Plus-Minus last season and, according to RPM’s wins metric, ranked among the 35 most valuable players in the league. Joel Embiid, Ben Simmons, Markelle Fultz and even JJ Redick will likely get more attention, but Covington is just as important to Philadelphia’s mission of making the playoffs in 2017-18.

Covington joins JJ Redick (87), Markelle Fultz (86) and Ben Simmons (84) on the list. The top 50 isn’t out yet, so hence no Embiid.

—

Flyers goaltender Michal Neuvirth is a new father.

Meanwhile, the Flyers have their rookie game tonight against the Islanders at the Wells Fargo Center.

One of those guys that’ll make an appearance is goaltender Alex Lyon, who is looking to take advantage of Anthony Stolarz’s injury and become the top netminder in Lehigh Valley.

Speaking of the Flyers, we have a new Flyers reporter:

Very excited to announce that Anthony SanFilippo @AntSanPhilly will be covering the Flyers for us this year.

— Kyle Scott (@CrossingBroad) September 12, 2017

—

Villanova announced their complete 2017-18 schedule, with all but one of their home games being held at the Wells Fargo Center. Josh Hart already has his season prediction:

Taking bets now‼️ #BigEastChamps #5inARow #NovaNation http://pic.twitter.com/UCZ2BCIin0

— Josh Hart (@joshhart) September 12, 2017

Philadelphia is getting an indoor lacrosse team once again.

—

In other sports news, Charles Oakley still hates James Dolan.

The Cleveland Indians won their 20th straight game, tying an American League record.

Kobe Bryant will have both of his Lakers numbers retired later in December against the Warriors.

ESPN is having a great week so far!

ESPN Statement on Jemele Hill: http://pic.twitter.com/3kfexjx9zQ

— ESPN PR (@ESPNPR) September 12, 2017

Hill tweeted that President Donald Trump was a white supremacist. Think before you tweet.

Kyle: ESPN has no idea what they’re doing. First they give people platforms ostensibly to share their views – which in this case might not be all that far from the truth – and then they disavow that view if it doesn’t poll well with their Middle America audience that they’ve already pissed off by putting that person on-air in the first place. Just own what you do and stop trying to toe the line.

Donald Trump is a white supremacist who has largely surrounded himself w/ other white supremacists.

— Jemele Hill (@jemelehill) September 11, 2017

40-year-old Stephon Marbury hopes to make an NBA comeback later this season after wrapping up his Chinese Basketball Association season. He last played in the NBA back in 2009.

It's time to combine. My next move is the best move. Working on the come back to the #nba http://pic.twitter.com/TaWjqwwekF

— I AM PEACE STAR (@StarburyMarbury) September 12, 2017

Jon Jones’ B-sample has turned positive after failing his drug test while fighting Daniel Cormier at UFC 214.

Even though Sergio Dipp dominated Twitter Monday night and Tuesday morning, you probably missed out on Jim Mora:

Jim Mora Da Gawd http://pic.twitter.com/v0BAGgDl3i

— Andrew (@bamamerl) September 12, 2017

From reader Alex, Andy Reid went back to the pickle juice last Thursday:

@CrossingBroad how about Big Red going with the pickle juice again on Thursday night? From MMQB… http://pic.twitter.com/O2zhqSPanZ

— Alex Mercer (@amercer002) September 11, 2017

—

In the news, Apple has unveiled many of their new products in time for the holidays, especially the new iPhones.

Alligators are probably on the loose in Florida.

Interesting…

Coming soon. Follow us here and on instagram at @ScaramucciPost. http://pic.twitter.com/4eNXUPbk9N

— ScaramucciPost (@ScaramucciPost) September 13, 2017

  Your Wednesday Morning Roundup published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv