#like i think we all forget that if they make another top gun they will most certainly have mav married to or otherwise

[actuallyitsstar]

have u seen the top gun 3 leaks/rumors?? GOD i hope it's true 😭😭😭 i need to see miles teller bradley bradshaw again

aaaaa hi there nonnie!! omg yes i have!! i'm just a bit 50/50 on the whole idea if i'm being honest- on the one hand, i would love so so much to see our favorite old man and the daggers and ofc bradley ;) again, and there are so many things about top gun/tgm that i think can rly be expanded upon and explored!! but on the other hand, i am worried that so close together and with it seeming a bit like a studio rush due to money or contracts or bargaining, idk. it might not turn out how i'm/we're hoping and i'd almost rather keep what we have now than have something we don't like become canon as a result of something like that 😭😭 i guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens! i am excited, but mostly, i am cautious, and very very nervous lol.

everyone has varying interpretations of our current canon material, and in their own way and their own universe everyone is right- but i do fear what would happen if they made a third movie that drew the line. someone will get alienated no matter what, and who knows what they could decide to do! they could rule out or include a relationship we consider basically canon or to be an ick, or they could directly contradict a beloved fandom headcanon that we all hold dear and turn those of us already quite committed to it into au participators all at once.... etc. of course, on the other hand, they could do exactly what we hope for- you never know- we just all hope for such different things. i worry that there's no way to make as well done and well received a movie as tgm due to the loss of the nostalgia factor and the rush and the split fanbase demographics, but at the same time i am excited by the possibility of seeing the things i'd want to see! it's all quite up in the air, but we'll have to be patient i suppose!

(thanks so much for the ask, nonnie! have a lovely day!! <3)

[artists-ally]

what about Harvey when he’s jealous? His wife is attending an event at the firm with him, she’s wearing a nice dress and one of his rivals from another firm is oggling her and she dogdes his advances gracefully, but when they get home he’s bending her on the closest surface and chanting “mine” skxmcmdks

{Put it on Me} Reader x Harvey Specter

oh BOY have I been thinking about this tehe. Also, you are my soul source of Harvey inspiration pls pls pls keep the requests coming. I have such a hard time coming up with ideas on my on so getting to create something specific really helps. Enjoy loves!!! title from this song

Word Count: 3,375

Warnings: jealousy, minor dom/sub concepts, unprotected sex, flirty banter, Harvey being a possessive mf.

~~~~~~~

As I stepped around the corner of the hallway, Harvey was leaning against the kitchen island, hands braced on the counter, gaze very much pinned on my silhouette.

“So, what do you think?” I asked, gesturing to the gown I had picked out over the weekend. “I thought the green would match well with yours.”

Harvey’s eyes melted over my frame, scanning every inch as he just stood. Watching. “You… Yn, you look breathtaking. What do you say we skip the firm announcement and just stay in?”

I laughed, the sound of my heels echoing off the walls. “As much as that sounds like a great idea, we can’t exactly snub off the announcement of a merger.”

“You just have to be the buzzkill don’t you?” Harvey smiled, planting his hands on my hips. “I should have you locked up for how good you look.”

“I don’t think you’d be able to convince a jury I’ve committed a crime, not if I bat my lashes and give them that flirty smile that sent you crawling to the floor.”

His eyes narrowed, backing me against the island in a firm spin. “Let’s not forget who can make those same lashes flutter shut, either.”

Bastard.

Harvey was dressed well– he always was. Terribly and insufferably great at finding the perfect suit. It was a three piece; the vest and jacket were black, but he wore this green tie that went with my dress. He said that since this would be the first event we attended together as a married couple, he wanted everyone to know.

Endearing, and mildly possessive.

I loved it when he was possessive.

“Okay, Maverick, let’s get to the flightdeck before we run out of fuel,” I patted his chest, grabbing my clutch and slipping in my earrings.

“Have I ever told you how much I love it when you make Top Gun references?”

“Almost as many times as you’ve told me how much you love when I’m on my knees,” I whispered in his ear before heading to the door.

Harvey landed a firm smack on my ass, sending laughter tumbling out of me before we kissed and headed down to the limo waiting for us.

I looked up and out of the window, taking in the views of the towering skyscrapers. The venu was gorgeous; all sleek marble and intricate architecture. Who knew such a place existed in New York.

When we arrived, Harvey stepped out first, taking my hand and guiding me out. I clutched his bicep as we ascended the stairs, greeting the security guard in front of the glass doors.

“Ahh, Mr. and Mrs. Specter,” the guard greeted. “Welcome. Ms. Pearson and Mr. Litt are waiting for you inside, as well as the other guests.”

Harvey gave me a nod, and I gave him one back. “Thank you, sir.”

He opened the door for us, and the inside was just as meticulously crafted as the outside. It was stunning, truly stunning. They don’t make buildings like this anymore, and that makes me a little sad.

“Yn!” Donna called out, several heads turning in our direction. “Oh my god you look amazing!”

“I couldn’t say anything less about you, Donna. You look so good, that royal blue makes your hair look so awesome,” I smiled pressing a kiss to her cheek. “And you too, Jessica. You look marvelous.”

“Thank you, Yn,” she smiled, accepting my hug. “Don’t you clean up nice, Harvey.”

He rolled his eyes, snagging a flute of champagne from a waiter on their way by. “I’ve been known to clean up every now and then.”

Conversation flowed easily between the small cluster I’ve been encompassed with. It is so nice to have such a tight knit group of people to not only call my friends, but my family. When Harvey first brought me around them, it had just been after a huge win against a firm enemy. Daniel Hardman, who I’ve come to know the full story about, had his ass handed to him. Afterwards, Harvey was far too proud to keep his mouth shut about us and insisted I needed to be a part of the celebration.

Donna was the first to meet me, and we shared one look and knew we were gonna be best friends. We made an incredible team. Especially when we teamed up against Harvey together.

Jessica was polite, but not nearly as friendly as Donna or Louis. Mike was nice, and so was Rachel, but they were too love struck, always off in their own little bubble.

Cuties.

Dinner was served just before eight and we dined, exchanging stories left and right. I got to hear about his days at the firm from their perspective, to which I get to tell them from mine. Wildly different, might I add.

The food was rich and decadent; a choice between a filet mignon or a salmon steak. I went with the filet mignon, it looked too good to pass up. Apparently everyone else agreed because our plates all looked identical when they came out.

More champagne and a belly full of great food later, Harvey and I found ourselves at the bar, ordering drinks for ourselves. Sure Harvey enjoyed the company of his co-workers, but even he needed a break from the people he saw every day. And so did I.

“If she comes back, order me an old fashioned for me my love?” Harvey said, kissing the back of my hand. “I just saw one of our investors walk in. I want to make sure he keeps investing.”

“I’ll make sure she puts in an extra cherry for you,” I winked, letting his lips fall onto mine.

“God I love you.”

With a lingering touch, he was off across the room, that classic Harvey Specter saunter to his gait. He looked so confident, so proud of all the work he had accomplished in his career. And he should be. Harvey has built an empire here in New York and has done more than earn his reputation.

It baffled me that underneath that ‘tough as nails’ attitude, was just someone who wanted to be loved and cherished as much as I had. I love Harvey, with every bit of my soul. He was so deserving of someone who truly loved him and not the amount of zeros in his bank account.

When we first met, I hadn’t known who he was, and he liked that very much. He told me he was a lawyer, a good one, but never specified which didn’t bother me really at all. It was complicated for a long while, but eventually I wore him down and he opened up. There weren’t any details of his life he didn’t share once that wall was broken down. When I met Donna for the first time, she thanked me for it. She said that I pulled that child-like behavior out of him and made him fall in love with being a lawyer all over again.

That made my heart swell with pride.

A gentle tap on my shoulder pulled me out of my memory of Harvey, and I met a pair of tempest blue eyes.

“Oh, hello,” I gave a polite smile, turning to face the man.

“Hello to you, too,” he smiled, eyes darting around my face. “I’m Travis.”

“Yn,” I said, taking his hand in mine.

“You know,” he rubbed his fingers over his chin, “Most people tend to just wear an outfit, but clearly you are going the extra mile by capturing everyone’s attention by simply sitting here.”

I hit my smile, “Well, that is kind of you to say.”

“And the earrings, they really bring the whole thing together. Did you do your hair yourself?”

“Yes,” I exclaimed, rather enthusiastically. “It looks a lot more complicated than it was. It genuinely only took me five or six minutes to do but it looks incredible, right?”

I swiveled in the bar stool, turning the back of my head to him. He blew out a low whistle and gave a light applause, “It looks amazing.”

“Are you here from the merger?” I asked, not recognizing this Tanner fellow.

“Oh, no I am merely here as a… a guest.” His eye had this glint to it when he took a sip of his clear drink. I could smell the vodka from here.

“Me too,” I said, turning my attention to the space around us. “Isn’t this place so cool? I love all the columns and pillars and- oh! Excuse me, can I get an old fashioned? With an extra cherry in it?”

“Of course,” the bartender nodded, walking away to start mixing the drink.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for whiskey kinda girl,” Travis said, resting his elbows on the counter beside me.

“Oh, I’m not it’s for-”

“Tanner.” Harvey’s voice slithered down my spine. He sounded so… so repulsed.

“Harvey,” Travis pushed to his full height. “Nice to see you here-”

“What are you doing here.” It wasn’t a question.

“Your name is Tanner?” I asked. Why would he lie to me?

“No, no my name is Travis. Tanner is my last name.”

“She doesn’t give a shit about what your last name is. Now get the hell out of here.”

“Woah, calm down Harvey. I’m just talking with this beautiful lady, no need to twist your panties. I was here first, you don’t get to swoop in here and steal my conversation,” Travis frowned, setting the glass down rather harshly on the counter.

“Hey Yn, isn’t that an 8 carat diamond?” Harvey stood directly behind me, sliding his fingers down my left arm, grabbing my wrist and facing it towards Travis.

“Uhh, yeah what’s going-”

“That's right, it is. Funny how I knew that, isn’t it Tanner? Well, that’s because I bought it for her. So how about you get the hell out of here and if I ever catch you trying to flirt with my wife again I will put you six feet in the fucking dirt, do you understand me?”

My eyes damn near fell out of my fucking skull. I knew Travis was being polite, or flirting I guess, but I wasn’t going to let anything come of it, of course.

Travis looked like he was going to be sick. He scurried off, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.

Harvey dropped my hand and reached around me to grab his freshly crafted drink.

“Okay, hotshot, what was that all about?”

“Do you remember that shit-show of a case that we fought a few months ago, the one that got reopened after four years?” I nodded. “Yeah, that was him. And that's the asshole who tried to have me disbarred.”

Holy shit. “Oh, fuck Harvey. I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he smiled faintly. “There’s no other reason he’s here tonight other than to piss me off.”

“Don’t let it get to you,” I said, standing up and taking his face in my hands. “Would you like to passionately make out in front of all these people just to make Travis Tanner mad?”

“Yes, yes I would like that very much,” Harvey grinned, linking his arm around my wait and pressing me close before sending a shiver down my spine with the force of his lips on mine.

“That guy is an asshole,” I said, needing a moment to catch my breath. Surely that did the trick, Travis was nowhere in sight. “You shouldn’t trust anyone with two first names, it’s weird.”

Harvey bellowed out a laugh, nodding his head over his shoulder. I could tell he wanted to leave, but I wouldn’t let him slink off without saying proper goodbyes to everyone that was worth an explanation as to where we fled to.

Donna didn’t need to see us leave, because I had a text on my phone with a bunch of eggplant and peace emoji’s with an accompanying message that said ‘GONNA BE SOME GOOD D TONIGHT GIRL’. She must’ve seen the whole interaction between Travis, Harvey and I.

All I sent back was a winky face.

By the time we got off the elevator, Harvey couldn’t keep his hands off of me. Not that I wanted him to, but we hadn’t even made it outside before his tongue was sweeping inside my mouth.

We pressed to the front door while jammed in the key, effortlessly unlocking it like he had done it a thousand times before. We crashed through, and Harvey wasted no time pinning me to the door.

“Mmm Harvey,” I whined into his mouth.

“Yes, pretty girl?” God damn did I love when he calls me that. “What do you need?”

“You, just you,” I looked at him through my lashes, watching that evil smirk wash over his features. Nothing could have stopped his hand clamping around my throat, pulling me off the door and into the kitchen. He hoisted me up onto the island and began to strip.

Harvey tossed his jacket onto the counter behind him, the tie was next. He made it painfully slow, doing nothing to hide his intentions of making it agonizing for me. I rolled my eyes, hands finding the buttons on his vest, flinging it over my shoulder.

“Needy,” he gripped my chin, crushing his mouth with mine. For a few minutes, or hours, we drank each other in. Restless hands and desperate pleas of need. Silk wrapped around my wrists, tight and commanding. I looked down and saw his tie around them, knotted in a figure eight and yanked until it burned.

“Harvey-”

“You’re mine. All. Mine. No one else has the right to do so much as think otherwise.” My core rippled with heat, eyes lulling shut at his words. “Aww, you like hearing that, don’t you? That I get to see you like this? All tied up? Such a pretty girl, Yn. I bet you’re such a mess for me already.”

He grabbed the fabric around my wrists and pulled me off the counter, flipping me over and forcing me to bend over. Harvey fisted up the hem of my skirt, quite literally tearing my thong off my hips.

I went to yell at him, but his finger dragged between my legs, and my spine shivered. “Fuck, Harvey…”

“You are a mess for me,” I could hear the possession in his voice. “Mmm, and you taste so sweet, Yn.”

I heard his fly unzip, the clang of his belt following after. My toes barely touched the ground as my forearms pressed against my ribs. I tried to scramble up a little so my hips fit with the edge of the counter, but Harvey just gripped the back of my hair and pulled me up.

He clicked his tongue, “Oh Yn, such a pretty thing you are. And I am going to have my way with you, and you’re gonna scream my name for the whole city to hear.”

I clenched my thighs together, pressing my forehead against the cool surface, though it quickly warmed with my breathing and panting. I felt the tip of his cock press against me, and his hips slowly met mine.

He pushed me further onto the counter, thankfully letting go of my hair before he pulled out.

Harvey’s hands on my hips were brutal; bruising my skin, commanding, feverish as they roamed my ass and thighs. Clawing marks.

“God Yn…” he sighed out, thrusting all the way back in, pulling my hips all the way flush with his. “Fuck you are so warm. So perfect for my cock.”

“Please,” I begged, wiggling my ass to entice him further.

“Please what, pretty girl? Come one, use your words.”

I shuddered around him, and he laughed at me. A cruel, wicked laugh as he stuffed himself further.

“Harder, I want- need it harder.”

“That’s my girl,” Harvey landed his palm on my ass, undoubtedly turning it bright red as he did it again. With one snap of his hips, and I knew I was gonna be ripped apart.

I didn’t know that much about Travis Tanner, but judging by the way this was going, Harvey really fucking hated the guy. If Harvey had any other enemies, maybe I should let them all flirt with me if it has the chance of turning into this.

My chest rammed across the counter, my thighs and pelvic bone rocking into the side of the island. It hurt, fuck did it hurt, but it made it so much better. Harvey’s brutal pace had him panting and groaning, cursing under his breath while he fisted his hand back in my hair.

I craned up, back aching with the force of his unyielding grip. It was hard to breathe, in the most soul fluttering way possible. It was such a euphoric feeling to be under his complete control.

“Yeah, you love this, don’t you? Being completely at my mercy? Submitting to my every decision?”

“Yes Harvey,” I whimpered. Full on whimpered. “Fuck-”

“Don’t be shy, pretty girl, let it all out for me to hear.”

He threw my head down, hair swinging around my shoulders and falling in my face. I let my head go limp, moans pouring out of my mouth. His hips slammed into mine, brutal and ruthless. Every inch of my body was on fire, veins pumping blood widely through my limbs, making them tingle. My toes curled, knees knocking into the wood paneling over and over and over.

I couldn’t do anything, couldn’t say anything, to get him to slow his pace. I writhed and cried out his name. I could hear it echo off the walls, and I knew our neighbors would be taping a complaint to our door by the morning.

“Fuck, baby, gonna cum,” he threw his head back, hips stuttering as he held on to my waist. “Fuck, Yn you are so fucking messy for me. Gonna fill you up.”

I squirmed when his finger brushed against my clit, chills spreading all down my arms and back. I felt tears prick my eyes. I hadn’t even realized how close I actually was to my release, and it slammed into me without any hint of a warning.

“Yeah, that's it, pretty girl. Cum on my cock,” Harvey’s voice was like a sin. Pure, raw, unfiltered sin.

His fingers circled and circled around, lighting my body and dragging out the waves of pleasure that rolled through me.

Harvey let out a string of curses, and his hips stilled. He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me down onto him, hips ramming in once-twice-three-four times before he stilled. He bent over me, heaving for a breath against the middle of my back.

I called his name several times, unable to keep still. My hands were going numb from the bindings, and my knees and hips ached.

With a big inhale, Harvey lifted off my body. His hands trailed all the way down my back to my exposed ass, pulling it apart. “Well, would you look at that. So messy, full of me…”

My pussy clenched around him, and I felt his release slide down the inside of my thigh. His finger dragged his back up and speared it into my skin.

“That’s right, pretty girl, you’re all mine, aren’t you? Say it.”

“I’m yours Harvey, all yours,” I plead, wallowing in the feeling of pure bliss. His hands were much more gentle this time around when he lowered me back to the ground.

That mouth of his most certainly wasn’t. Harvey forced his tongue in, practically shoving it down my throat. I choked, and he grinned like the devil.

“Yeah, that’s right, Yn. You’re all mine. All fucking mine.”

I stared up at him in a starry daze. My head was foggy, and my legs were weak. “God do I love it when you get like this.”

Harvey’s hand caressed my cheek, thumb sweeping under my eye to where I’m sure my makeup was smudged.

“And god do I love it when you let me worship you, fucking you exactly like you deserve to be. No one else could ever fuck you as good as I can. Right, pretty girl?”

I grinned, equally as devilish as him, “Right, Harvey.”

~~~~~

Reader's dress

Harvey's suit

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [30] - Daring

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: A promising heir is a daring one.

Word Count: 2600

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Well, mind blowing sex was an aspect of this marriage that you hadn’t expected, but you weren’t going to complain.

You tried to catch your breath as Bucky fell on his back next to you on the bed, a smirk curling his lips.

“So how many stars is that?”

“…Six stars out of five,” you said, still panting and he let out a chuckle.

“I want it in writing, princess.”

“The sex journal is all the way there,” you motioned at the other side of the room but before he could say anything, your phone started vibrating on the nightstand. You grabbed it, then let out a groan and sat up in bed, then quickly started typing back.

“What is it?” Bucky asked, his fingertips tracing over your spine making you smile before you licked your lips.

“My aunt,” you muttered and scoffed when she sent you another text. “She wants to invite us to dinner.”

“Tell her we’re busy,” Bucky said calmly and you ran a hand over your face before you sent the answer and tossed the phone back to the nightstand. You let yourself fall back on the bed, making Bucky chuckle as he propped his head up on his fist.

“What’s going on?”

“She just…” you trailed off and let out a small laugh. “You know, she thinks I should ask you to help Ian out on that meeting.”

He raised his brows. “Hm?”

“Yeah,” you said. “And she had the audacity to say Ian would help me out if I fucked up like he did.”

“He wouldn’t help you out.”

“Nope.”

“And you wouldn’t have fucked up like he did.”

You bit inside your cheek, deep in thought and Bucky nuzzled to your neck before getting on top of you again, making you giggle. He settled between your legs and looked down at you, cupping your face to caress your cheekbone with his thumb.

“What is it?” he murmured, his voice soft and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, gazing up at him.

“The way she talks to me,” you muttered. “Or Ian, or my father, or your father, they—none of them take me seriously, Bucky.”  

“I take you seriously.”

I nibbled on your lip, trying to decide whether to ask the question that had been on your mind for the last week but in the end, your need for assurance got the best of you;

“And this doesn’t change things?”

He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Us having sex,” you said. “I mean granted it’s no strings attached but—”

“Marriage is a string,” Bucky added helpfully and you rolled your eyes.

“Fake marriage,” you corrected him. “But either way, I don’t want this to make you go all…”

Bucky pulled his brows together. “Hm?”

“I’ve seen how spouses are treated in this line of work,” you said. “I just want to make sure we’re both on the same page here.”

“How are they treated?” Bucky asked with a small smirk and you raised your brows.

“Like they’re fucking porcelain dolls,” you said. “They’re kept out of the business, and you can’t pull that shit with me. I’m still your business partner.”

“I’m not going to keep you out of the business.”

“Good.”

“But I’m not going to put you in unnecessary danger—and before you start,” he added when he saw your expression. “I wasn’t going to do that before we had sex either. So technically, this doesn’t change things.”

Your frown deepened and you pulled back slightly when he leaned in to kiss you.

“Define unnecessary danger,” you demanded and he heaved a sigh.

“Can we go back to the part I was inside you—”

“Not until I’m convinced I’m not getting fucked over.”

“Fucked yes, over no—”

“Bucky,” you said, looking up at him to see the soft light shining in his blue eyes. He licked his lips, his fingers stroking over your hair.

“There’s a war going on, Charm,” he said gently. “Yes we’re going to put you on your father’s throne but in the meantime, I need you to be safe.”

You could feel the pleasant warmth in your ribcage as you traced the tattoo on his chest with your fingertips absentmindedly, and he nudged your nose with his, making you giggle before he pecked you on the lips.

“So just…don’t do that shit where you look for trouble?”

Your smile widened and you heaved an exaggerated sigh, then wrapped your arms around his neck.

“And you don’t count as trouble, Barnes?”

That made him smirk as he leaned in.

“Maybe,” he admitted, brushing his lips against yours. “Almost as much as you, sweetheart.”

                                                         *

Sit downs were an expected part of the business, they took place every six months but this time, it was moved to an earlier time per everyone’s request. As it turned out, Ian’s fuck up was too big to wait and you had to actually hold back from bursting into a song every couple of hours, excitement making your head spin.

This evening was the first real step in undermining Ian and showing your worth to the rest of the bosses.

You would’ve been lying if you said you didn’t feel a bit guilty about leaving out the second part of the plan when you talked about it with Bucky though. Right now, he only assumed you would be present in the meeting to tear Ian apart just like the rest of the bosses, and to subtly give the message of there being an alternative to the others but in your defense you still weren’t sure how okay he would be with it considering how big of a move it was and you had laid the groundwork for it years and years ago—

Fine, that was a terrible and selfish excuse, but he was going to agree with you once he saw that your plan was working.

 “Are you okay?” Bucky asked once the car came to a stop in front of your father’s house and you snapped out of your thoughts, then nodded your head.

“Uh huh.”

“You sure?”

“He knows I’m going to be in the meeting right?” you asked and he nodded.

“He wasn’t very happy about it,” he said. “Did he not call you?”

“Nope,” you said as the driver opened the door for you. “I can’t even decide if it’s a good sign or a bad sign.”

You stepped out of the car with Bucky following you, and you looked around the yard to see hundreds of men patrolling, jet black parked cars scattered around. Bucky touched the small of your back to gently steer you to the mansion and you both climbed the stairs, then passed through the door.

“Here you two are,” Sam approached you. “Buck, can I borrow you for a moment?”

Bucky turned to look at you as if asking for your permission and you nodded.

“Oh yeah, go ahead,” you said and he pressed a kiss on your temple, then walked away with him. You made your way to the living room where the rest of the bosses were waiting and you gave a small smile to Ryan who smiled at you back, then flung yourself on the couch.

Natasha was there with Yelena, her younger sister who was already named her heir and when her gaze fell on you, she nodded at you with a small smirk, then leaned in to whisper something into Yelena’s ear, making her raise her brows. Stark was in a deep conversation with Clint and you could only guess that Steve was wherever Sam had taken Bucky to, for a conversation before the meeting. Ian muttered something to Ryan, then clenched his teeth and came to sit beside you.

“So,” he said. “Finally you’ll be allowed into a sit down. Must be exciting.”

“I could say the same for you,” you told him. “This is going to be your first sit down as well, after all.”

“For some reason I thought Barnes was too smart for you to manipulate him through his dick, but I guess not.”

You gave him a sweet smile.

“Aw,” you cooed. “I know you’re nervous Ian, but I’m sure they’ll go easy on you.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“Is that why auntie asked me to talk to Bucky?” you asked. “Running to your mommy doesn’t exactly scream confidence, you know?”

“At least I have one to run to,” Ian told you, making your eyes narrow in a glare but before you could say anything, one of your father’s men stepped into the living room.

“The meeting room is ready,” he said and you stood up along with everyone, Bucky entering the room to make a beeline to you.

“Hey, is everything okay?” you asked him and he nodded.

“Oh yeah, nothing to worry about,” he assured you, entwining his fingers with yours. “Come on.”

You followed him to the meeting room, your heart beating in your ears. Being a part of these sit downs was one of the many things that your father had kept you away from, and considering this was the perfect opportunity, you had to make sure not to make any mistakes. Bucky pulled your seat for you and you quietly thanked him, then turned to look at your father who was sitting at the head of the table but he only gave you a disapproving glare, then leaned back as everyone else took their seats.

“Welcome everyone,” he said. “As usual, it’s a pleasure to see all of you here.”

You rested your hand against Bucky’s vibranium one and he turned his head to give you an assuring smile while everyone else around the table returned to sentiment to your father. Ian licked his lips, shifting his weight in his seat.

“We all know why every single member asked for this sit down to be moved to an earlier date,” your father said. “My heir has heard my…criticism in detail before this meeting.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore the disappointment pulling at your stomach at hearing him call Ian his heir.

“But he hasn’t heard yours,” your father said. “And since he is here, no more kid gloves. Who would like to start first?”

Bucky and you had both agreed that staying away from this discussion at first was a good idea, considering your position. You couldn’t look too aggressive or pushy yet, and judging by how Steve and Sam had exchanged glances, so had they.

Everyone around this table knew who Bucky, Steve and Sam supported as your father’s heir after all.

Natasha was the first to speak.

“Well we’re all here short of a couple millions,” she said. “As a result of a raid. By the cops. Right in the middle of a war with Hydra.”

“Not a good look, Ian,” Clint said and Tony hummed.

“That’s putting it lightly,” he commented. “Do you mind walking us through that complete failure that you called a strategy first?”

“We are still looking for the person who’s responsible for the first attack,” Ian started and turned his glances to you but your expression was completely serene. “But unlike other attacks, it didn’t look like a Hydra one.”

Your stomach did a nervous flip.

“And the timing is rather strange, considering it happened right when we’re in a war with Hydra,” he said, making your father pinch the bridge of his nose. “Almost like someone is making use of the war, wouldn’t you say?”

A silence fell upon the room and Sam scoffed.

“I’m sorry, let me get this clear,” he said. “Are you actually insinuating that the attack was done by someone in this room?”

“He’s not.”

“All due respect Arthur, he can answer for himself.”

Ian looked like he was considering saying yes but then gritted his teeth.

“Could have been another gang trying to prove themselves.”

“Yes well, we’re not interested in that right now though, are we?” Steve asked. “We’re talking about the raid. What happened there?”

“After the attack, I needed to find an alternate route,” Ian said. “For the shipment. And I figured, considering the time and the place, the west side second dock made more sense.”

Yelena tilted her head.

“Is this your first time in the city?” she asked, making you bite back a smile. “Is this—has Arthur pull you out of the street on your way to a museum and give you a responsibility?”

A small smirk pulled at Natasha’s lips while Bucky chuckled.

“My sources in the law enforcement assured me—”

“Your sources in the law enforcement lied to you, you mean,” Bucky corrected him and Ian took a deep breath.

“They have been replaced.”

“Not soon enough,” Tony stated. “West side second dock has that reputation for a reason. What, you thought it was just a rumor?”

“As I said, I was misled by my sources.”

“So your sources gave you the false information and now it’s our problem,” Clint said and Steve clicked his tongue.

“You know how it will look from outside,” he said. “The other families in other cities.”

“A war with Hydra and now we can’t even control our own shipments,” Natasha said. “There are already rumors brewing, and this city cannot handle another war on top of all this shit with Hydra.”

“We will present a united front as usual—”

“Right after you pay our losses, you mean?” Clint asked him. “Because in case it has escaped your notice, that raid wasn’t just to your shipment. Ours was there as well, hence the millions of dollars.”

“And thanks to that raid, now those cops are watching the docks very closely,” Bucky said. “How are you planning on solving that?”

“The business will continue once the dust has settled.”

“And the potential losses in the meantime?” Steve asked. “Some of the cities are reconsidering their business deals with New York thanks to the shit you pulled.”

“They’re not going to stop doing business with us,” Ian said and Steve raised his brows.

“Yeah?” he asked. “So you’ve talked to them and made sure of it then?”

That made Ian fall quiet and you licked your lips.

“Which cities are reconsidering their deals?”

“I talked to Boston,” Steve told you. “They seem to be the only ones who are solid. Phoenix is having second thoughts.”

“Washington is a maybe,” Sam said and Natasha hummed.

“Houston is locked in, but Philadelphia has been looking for alternatives, I’ve heard.”

“San Diego?”

“Also a maybe.”

“Dallas?”

“I wouldn’t trust them.”

“We need something big if we want to keep those cities.”

Ian raised his brows.

“Well, as I said—”

“How about you sit this one out right now?” you cut him off. “You have fucked up the stability and the safety of this city, not to mention our deals and nothing you say offers us a solution to any of the problems you created.”

“And your solution is to whine about it?” Ian asked back and Bucky glared at him.

“Arthur, pull your heir into line before he accidentally disrespects my wife.”

“She’s here as an heir,” Ian said and Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“Arthur, pull your heir into line before he accidentally disrespects my heir.”

“Until your actual heir comes along,” Ian corrected him and Bucky opened his mouth but Tony beat him to it.

“That’s not what we’re here for,” he said. “The line of succession is a family matter. Does anyone have a solution for the issue at hand?”

You could feel your heartbeat getting faster but you took a deep breath.

“I do.”

Everyone around the table including Bucky turned to look at you better and Natasha raised her brows while Bucky frowned in confusion.

“You have a solution?” Natasha asked to make sure and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Which is?”

You swallowed thickly, excitement making your ears ring but you managed to smile.

“Chicago,” you said. “I can get us Chicago.”

Chapter 31

[yanfeiimain]

Aventurine NSFW headcanons

c/w: NSFW ! gun play, riding, praise, degradation, genderneutral, nn: angel (reader); sweet thing (aventurine), choking, i think thats it ?

words: ~400

a/n: Aventurine nsfw headcanons bc what did 2.2 do to me! I am normal about him (I swear). No I'm not projecting onto him in the slightest.

Receiving praise / degradation "Aventurine, my sweet thing... Do you even hear yourself? Moaning and begging like a whore. It's truly pathetic. But you make me feel so good, so full. That's right, you fuck me so well, slut." Your words drive him crazy as you bounce on his twitching cock. He's so close, one more word and he would come inside you!

Kink: gunplay (we all saw the final victor light cone) Oh how much it turns him on when you sit on his lap, grinding against him and pressing the cold tip of the gun against his neck. Aventurine's breath hitches as you click the trigger once. You could swear his clothed cock twitched at that moment. Another click and he moans. The danger of this situation turns his desperate brain completely off.

Aventurine is a switch He loves being topped, but nothing is stopping him from topping you either. He likes being in control and making you submit to him as much as giving it to you, he trusts you fully after all! He is, however, a real brat sometimes, just to egg you on.

Kink: voice He just loves your voice- so much that you could make him come untouched by just talking him through it, praising or degrading him. And the way you say his name! So utterly sweet, yet condescending at the same time. It sends him reeling. That's why you two have phone sex almost every time Aventurine is away on a mission for the IPC.

Aventurine is vocal as fuck He's talking the entire time, shamelessly moaning and whimpering into your ear. "ah~ you're so tight around me, feels so good! mh, fuck! just like that!" And when he comes, he lets out a stream of incoherent words and sentences and little 'ah ah ah's. "ah so close ah, ah, ah, please! more I- ah more!"

Kink: choking There's just something about you wrapping your delicate hands around Aventurine's neck that feels so perfect. When you press your fingers against his blood flow, making his brain cloudy and let him forget the world around him for a minute.

Kink: begging Aventurine loves to beg and loves to hear you beg. "Please, angel, let me come! Please I'll be so good, I'll- I'll do anything, please, please, please!" And he would do absolutely anything to come. "Aventurine...! Let- Let me have your cock, please! Fill me up and let me feel you inside! please!" How could he resist your sweet pleas?

[nimpnawakproduction]

The ultimate reference sheets for all of Vash's outfits in Trigun maximum (with commentaries)

IT IS DONE. I'M FREE. Now I can forget all about Trimax and draw Trigun stampede designs only hahaha (just kidding I have things for Trimax on the stove).

Trigun bookclub was an awesome initiative, I loved the manga with my all heart and wanted to honor Nightow's designs ;w; I also wanted to help my fellow artists with references for Vash's clothes because DEAR GOD it's difficult to understand how the hell he dresses himself in the morning. I have a lot of fun dressing and undressing him like a barbie doll. My hyperfixation is completely healthy.

I put a "read more" section to avoid spoilers :) !

The July coat

The very first coat in Trigun chronology and the one he wores during the destruction of July ! There is not a lot of panels to take references but I tried to stay as close as possible to the manga. I don't know what number of prosthesis he had before but let name this one Prosthesis 1.

Scars map

Next, nakey Vash ! There's A LOT of changes between one panel to another. Scars changes places and forms panel to panel and the design evolved from the first chapters of Trigun, the time we see him naked as Eriks and his undressed state while he was a prisoner on the Ark. I drew the scars that appeared more than once or were in clean view in a panel (but really you can do like Nightow and draw as many scars as you want without thinking about consistency, this boy has been in a meat grinder)

After July underclothes

Or the jumpsuit that gave me grey hair. His suit does not make ANY sense, I don't know how the hell he dresses himself in the morning with this. My solution is that it's very long gloves and chaps strapped to a belt. The position and shapes of the belts changes IN EVERY PANEL. Same for his knee guards, sometimes they're here, sometime they cover his shins, sometimes they are tiny..... I gave up in the end and draw them as we see them in the very last panel he wears this suit. But damn he looks good in it.

Also in all of the 13 volumes, there is not a single panel with a clear view of his holster (I checked...) so here is my interpretation.

This is prosthesis n°2, the design is a little different from the first one so I guess Prosthesis 1 got destroyed (this happens a lot).

After July coat

The very first Trigun coat he wears in the manga ! Very simple, very basic, it gives him impossibly wide shoulders but Vash deserves it. The first one is worn Post July until Vash's confrontation against Brilliant Dynamite Neon. The second one is the state of his coat after the sandsteamer incident. He loses his prothesis after his fight against Monev the gale. He meets Wolfwood with only one arm and stays that way while he fights Knives for the first time.

Eriks

I took liberties with colors because there's no colored panels with Vash as Eriks. Yes I drew him without suspenders because he has them for like 5 panels and then Nightow drew him without them for the rest of Eriks arc so I made choices ;w;

I love the fact that Vash choose to wear tight jeans even in his casual outfits, this boy will not let his skin breath. This is now Prosthesis 3 ! It's way less advanced than the ones he wore in the rest of the manga, the other ones seem to replicate skin.

After his years as Eriks

And now the first Maximum coat, he wears it until the famous Yuri hospital arc! Finally an undersuit that makes sense, I love it, too bad Nightow-san decided that I had to suffer and changed it again to add BELTS EVERYWHERE. We only see his legs in this part of the manga so I gave him the same top because I can.

The tubes he has on his waist are filled with bullets, he can connect them to his prosthesis to have a mini machine gun.

We are now at Prosthesis 4 !

Hospitalization on the Home ship

The famous Yuri hospital phase! Vash definitely shared his wardrobe with Wolfwood, you can't tell me otherwise.

The first outfit still shows Prothesis 4 but he keeps it for like 5 minutes and lost it again against Nine-lives. I don't really know if the prothesis comes with the integrated glove or if there's synthetic skin under it but why would he keep the glove on if it's not intergrated?

The second pictures is the different outfits he wears during his convalescence. I took liberties with the colors, I drew this in like 10 minutes, everything seems easy when you don't have to draw BELTS. We are now on Prothesis 5 ! Nightow drew it as a regular arm so I guess Vash wears gloves on top of it??????

Back on the road in pursuit of Knives

He wears this one after his stay at Home, throughout the Dragon's nest ark and until his 2nd fight against Knives.

I liked the design of his jumpsuit until I looked closer at the panels and saw that the design change ON EVERY ONE OF THEM. Knee guard on only one knee? No kneeguards? Two??? WHO KNOWS ??? I tried to make it work but really go wild with this one, even the author does not know how his pant looks.

Still prosthesis 5, BUT UNTIL WHEN?

Prisoner on the Ark

THEY MASSACRED MY BOY. Did they even feed him at least in 7 months? Those pictures are the definition of the drenched kitty cat left under the rain. Give this man a blanket and a therapist.

Bye bye Prothesis 5 ! And see what I mean when I say that his outfit does not make sense????? It comes out in parts????

After his imprisonment on the Ark

The last suit in the manga! He keeps this coat until the end of the story. From this point, only his hair changes (or the color of his coat).

I adore the little angel wing symbol on his left arm, such a cute addition. Too bad it appears in one of the most traumatic event of his life.

Speaking of his jumpsuit...The return of belts.... But at least this outfit stays relatively coherent except for his kneeguards who appear and disappear panel from panel but most of the time he doesn't have any, so no kneeguard it is. Prosthesis 6 hello !

Final battle and end of the story

It hurted to drew those outfits ;w; And working on the design of his coat when he fights Legato made me realize where Orange studio took inspiration to chose the colors for Vash's coat in the final episode of Stampede ! Great job ! I tried to color the same effects as one of the illustrations showing dark Vash but I'm not really good with colors..... He actually radiates energy but with some purple undertones, I took some liberties because those are my drawings I do what I want.

I'm not sure at 100% that he has a tuft of blond hair left when his outfit turns black but his hair is all black at the end of the fight. His prosthesis is destroyed at the end of the fight. He got another one in the final chapter. So 7 prosthesis throughout the story!

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Hungry For Heaven

Summary: Beau knows he shouldn’t have feelings for his young, pretty secretary. But he can’t help it. Pairing: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 4.6k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is my second entry for the 80’s Rocktober Challenge hosted by @roosterforme - I picked Dio’s song “Hungry For Heaven.” I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, Cain is a creep for plot reasons, my gratuitous use of italics and song lyrics, a coyote ugly reference, female receiving oral sex, power imbalance

His girl. Cyclone’s girl. Simpson’s girl. The Admiral’s girl. That’s how most people referred to you when speaking with Beau. And he had never admitted how much he liked it, instead telling people to at least acknowledge your rank. But in the dark of his rooms, in the recesses of his mind, Beau liked it. He liked that you were his. 

Sort of.

Beau knew it was cliche. Falling for his young, pretty secretary was probably the most cliche thing that he could have ever done. But it hadn’t been a choice, really. You had appeared one day, three years ago, like a whirlwind and Beau had been left in your wake. You kept a tight ship, just as he did. You had been a perfect match for him, keeping him organized and on time for all his meetings and classes. You had made the mountains of paperwork he was always saddled with much easier to swallow and he had thought he was dreaming when you’d first handed over a thick stack of papers and told him he just needed to sign at the bottom of the last page. You’d basically done a week of reports for him and had left Beau with a pen in his hand and a tight stomach as you sauntered back out of his office. But that was what you did, he learned. You made his life easier. Gave him time to breathe. You were his girl. 

It was more than a little embarrassing to realize his…affection for you was noticed by anyone. Thankfully, the only person he knew for a fact suspected anything was Admiral Bates, who had quietly told him that it was about time he was happy. Embarrassing. It was a kindness, true, but Beau would have preferred if he hadn’t said anything at all. These feelings were inappropriate and completely against Naval regulation and protocol and he couldn’t stop.

“You’re not staying much later, are you?” 

Beau looked up from his computer, reading yet another request from Maverick about his insane dog fight simulations he wanted the newest Top Gun class to try, to see you in the doorway of his office. The usual, soft smile was on your face—the smile he liked to think you reserved just for him. His mouth curled up at the edges too; he couldn’t help it. “Just trying to rein in Maverick.” 

You scoffed and shook your head but your smile remained. “You’re going to be here all night, then. Again.” 

Beau had to hide his laugh behind his hand. You knew him too well. “I won’t.” 

You hummed, obviously not believing him. “I’ll order you dinner. Do you want Chinese or Italian? You had barbecue two nights ago.” 

His heart twisted, like it usually did whenever you so easily showed how well you knew him. “Italian, if you could, Lieutenant. With-”

“With extra breadsticks, I know. I’ll make sure they don’t forget again.” 

You were gone from the doorway before he could thank you but you returned not thirty minutes later with his promised dinner and another smile. A cursory glance let him know that the extra breadsticks were indeed included this time and you set a silverware roll from the mess hall beside the bag. 

“You’re too good to me, Lieutenant.” Beau winced as soon as the words left his mouth but you simply smiled. “And I thought you were on your way out for the weekend?” 

Your smile widened. “I am. But I wasn’t about to leave you hungry.” 

Beau’s entire chest ached and he tried to smile again but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. “Big plans?” 

“My friend’s bachelorette party. We are going bar hopping after getting pole dance lessons.” You paused before a grimace crumpled your features. “You didn’t need to know that. I apologize. That was unprofessional.” 

Beau felt his throat bob, mouth suddenly dry. Seeing you in your khakis or in any of the other Naval uniforms had been all Beau had been given, aside from when you needed to grab something from your office over the weekend a few months ago and he got to see you in a sinful pair of shorts and low cut top. But imagining you in one of those tight, tiny dresses he knew women your age wore and learning how to dance like that had his stomach in knots. 

He was being unprofessional. He was supposed to be the one who approved or rejected paperwork for relationships like this. He wasn’t supposed to be wanting one. And he wasn’t even sure if you saw him as anything other than the old man who needed help keeping his meetings and paperwork in a row. 

Sure, you joked with him, nursed a glass of expensive bourbon with him after the Uranium Mission, and Beau liked to think he caught you appreciating the view when he partook in the swim call during your last shared deployment and you handed him a towel to dry off…but that did not mean anything in the grand scheme of things. 

He knew that. 

But he couldn’t get you out of his head. 

“I hope you have a good time. You’ve certainly earned it. I know I run you ragged here.” 

The hard line of your shoulders lessened and your smile returned as you shook your head. Your hand settled over his and you gently squeezed his fingers, touch not retreating immediately and Beau tried not to revel in it too much. “I love working for you. You have to know that by now.” Beau watched your mouth open again before you bit your lip. 

Beau could imagine a million different things you could have said after that. But you didn’t say any of them. You didn’t say anything at all aside from a soft, “anyway, have a good night, Admiral. Please don’t stay too late.”

And then you were gone, leaving Beau alone with the scent of your floral perfume, the echo of your warm hand on his, and an ache in his chest. 

It was fine. 

This was fine. 

He ate his dinner as he tried to find the least insane simulation Maverick had requested and hoped that it would end well next week. Honestly, having the Captain as the permanent Top Gun instructor was bad for his heart.

“Are you coming?”

Beau looked up from his paperwork to see Admiral Cain in his doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Oh, that was right. Cain had been invited to see the current Top Gun class in action. The higher ups thought it would be a way to “soften” Cain’s animosity toward manned aircrafts. It was ridiculous because Beau outranked Cain and he still walked around like his shit didn’t stink.

Mostly what it did was raise Beau’s blood pressure and had you running circles around base trying to keep Cain out of Beau’s office. It was a valiant effort, Beau knew, but Cain hardly ever followed any recommendation from someone who he deemed ‘beneath him.’ 

He glanced down at the calendar on his desk and saw your neat handwriting over today’s date. Drinks with Cain? :( 

Dammit.

“Yeah, let me just clean up and-”

“I’ll give you fifteen minutes.” And then he was gone, too. 

Biting back every swear he’d ever learned, Beau stood and cleared his desk of his dinner’s trash and filed everything away to deal with on Monday. He pulled on a different shirt and slacks he kept in his office’s closet for times like this and tried not to seem too unenthusiastic when he met Cain out in the parking lot. The effort was completely negated when the other man started bragging about the bar he wanted to try, touting that it was apparently popular with younger women who preferred older men. 

And while Beau did think of you for a moment, his stomach still rolled with the thought that Cain was on the prowl for someone younger when Beau knew that he had a wife and kids waiting at home for him. But still, he went, knowing the higher ups would frown at him not wanting to “play nice.” 

(Beau pocketed the thought that he could have Cain dishonorably discharged if he actually did something.) 

The drive to the bar was thankfully short and Beau had repeatedly told himself that it would be fine to leave after one overpriced drink before parking. He could hear the classic rock pouring from the stout brick building and he could still hear the waves crashing against the shore as he stepped up toward the front door. The bouncer at the front waved him in and Beau saw Cain already striding up toward the bar, turning his head to watch as a woman, carrying a tray of shots to a different table, walked by. 

Cain settled at the bar and Beau begrudgingly stood near him and waited for one of the three bartenders to take their order. When they were noticed, Cain was more than a little shameless with staring down the bartender’s shirt when she came to their corner of the bar top so Beau made a mental note to give her an extra tip with his drink as a silent apology. 

“What can I get started for you?” She asked, turning to Beau with a roll of her eyes. She’d apparently already had a long night. 

“Cognac, please.” 

The bartender quirked an eyebrow but almost smiled. “You seem like a top shelf kind of guy. Am I right?” 

Beau nodded and watched her grab a bottle of cognac he also had in his personal bar back home (where he’d rather be, but that was beside the point) and poured a few fingers of it into a glass before setting it atop a monogrammed napkin and pushing it in front of him. He handed over his card without a fuss and she seemed grateful when he didn’t ask to open a tab. 

Beau vacated his spot at the bar after leaving his promised tip and it was quickly taken by a woman who had to be about your age with a sash across her chest that read “Made of DisHonor” in bold, pink lettering. It was funny—there must be a bachelorette party here somewhere. 

Again, he thought of you—you had said your friend’s bachelorette party was tonight. 

As Beau settled into an overstuffed booth near one of the stained glass windows, he saw Cain still at the bar, now turned around to lean against it as he sipped on his martini. His gaze was bouncing from one woman to the next while completely ignoring the other men who would have probably preferred his spot at the bar to order. But it hardly mattered, really. Beau would have been content with finishing his drink by himself and not interacting with Cain at all. But Cain did eventually did spot him and Beau raised his glass in half hearted welcome but hoped that it would not be taken. 

Cain didn’t pick up on the abject disinterest on Beau’s face and started to make his way over. Dammit. However, he made it only a half dozen steps before getting pulled to a stop by a woman in a tight dress and a bright smile. 

Damn. All right. Apparently the reputation this bar had was not completely unfounded. 

Beau was quick to drag his gaze away from the uncomfortable scene and spotted the girl with the sash walking away from the bar with a tray of what looked like Jell-O shots in her hands. Beau watched her go with a smile, remembering his days back in college when his tongue was blue from drinks like those. She quickly passed out the small plastic cups and the grip Beau had on his cognac nearly slipped when he recognized one of the women in her group. 

You. 

God. You had always been beautiful but right now you were truly something else. Sinful and ethereal all at once. Stunning. Short dress. High heels. Burgundy lips. You were dressed for the festivities. Your sash read “Miss Behaving.” 

Of course it did. 

The bride, a cute woman in a tiny white dress with a giant white bow on the back of her head, herded everyone a little bit out of the throughway so a small group of men could get to the bar without needing to walk around. And you ended up closer to him. He could hear your laugh over the music as your friend pushed one of the Jell-O shots into your hand. 

“I’m driving tonight! I can only have one drink.” 

The woman with the Made of Dishonor sash pouted but still made sure your fingers were curled around the tiny plastic cup. “You said that at the last two bars, too. That’s why I got you a non-alcoholic Jell-O shot. Congrats. That is pure sugar and water, babe.” 

You laughed and Beau found himself smiling at the sound of it; he liked hearing you be happy. And he should have known that you would be the designated driver for your friends—you were always taking care of someone. (Usually it was him.) 

He watched you and your friends take the caps off the shots and clink them together with a shout of cheers for the bride as he took another sip of his own drink. It nearly came right back out as he coughed, watching your tongue skirt around the plastic. 

“There we go!” The bride cheered before patting your cheek with uncoordinated fingers but you laughed anyway. “I want you to have fun. Have fun with me.” 

“I am having fun! I promise,” you said before catching her hand and kissing her fingers, earning a giggle of your own. “And tonight isn’t about me!”

“I picked this bar for you!” The maid of honor said with a laugh of her own. “I was hoping I would be able to get your mind off that man who shall not be named.” “No, you chose it because they let you dance on the bar.” “That’s besides the point,” she retorted, finger pointed in your direction. “Two birds, one stone or whatever.” 

“What?” The bride asked, dragging out the single syllable. 

The maid of honor shook her head. “Babe, it has been over a year and you’re still hung up on him. You either need to get under him or get over him.” 

You swirled your finger around the empty, plastic container, pretending to care about the remnants of your Jell-O shot. “I can’t help it.” 

“What’s so special about him?” Another woman asked, stealing a second shot. “A year’s a long time.” 

“Oh no,” one of your friends groaned. “Don’t get her started.”

The bride pouted again. “But I wanna hear it. I don’t hear anything anymore! I don’t even know who we’re talking about!” 

“I’ve told you about him twice but that just…doesn’t matter,” you said, probably noting how intoxicated she was at the moment. “You’re busy with wedding planning, sweetheart. We don’t want to bother you.” 

She waved it away, pout persisting. “Tell me. Tell me right now! I’m your best…” she hiccuped. “Best friend. Tell me.” 

You licked your lips before sighing. “He’s…my boss.” 

There was an answering squeal from the bride and a few others in your group before you waved it away with a halfhearted scowl, like you were trying to keep the smile from your face. 

The grip on his drink was near painful now. 

You were talking about him. You had been hung up on him for over a year. 

“He’s just handsome and kind and funny. He’s nice when he wants to be and he’s always nice to me.” 

“But not to everyone else, right?” The maid of honor said, sounding like she’d heard this before. 

Beau adjusted his posture to try to hear your group better over the blaring guitars and thumping drums. He wanted to know what you had been saying—apparently repeatedly. 

“Yeah. I mean, he runs a tight ship-”

“That is a terrible pun.” 

“-but he tries to keep everyone safe and he just expects everyone else to do the same. So-”

“You’re burying the lede here. He’s smoking hot. A complete silver fox who’s got a banging bod.” 

You gaped at the Maid of Honor’s outburst and Beau watched your mouth open and close a few more times without a single word coming out. Is that what you had told your friends?

“And he’s sweet to you?” The bride repeated, hazy eyes sparkling. “You hafta marry him.” 

“They’re a sight for sore eyes. Good choice.” 

Beau felt something in his neck pop when he quickly turned his head to see Cain settling opposite him in the booth. The other man’s eyes were dragging all over your group without a care in the world. Dragging all over you. “Did you strike out?” The words were out of his mouth before he could even begin to think of a different response. “I saw you talking to someone else.” It was a pitiful recovery but Beau hid his distaste for the entire situation behind another gulp of his liquor. 

Cain’s mouth curled into a scowl for a moment. “You’ve been sitting here alone all night. You’re not doing any better.” A familiar sneer pushed at his features before he once again looked at your group. “Are you one of those that just likes to look?” 

Thankfully or not, Cain didn’t wait for an answer and stood again, making his way over to your group. Just for a moment, Beau thought about just leaving. Just getting up and leaving and pretending this entire night never happened. 

“A-Admiral Cain.” 

Your voice cut through Beau’s thoughts with ease. 

“I…I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

Cain squinted at you, probably trying to place your face and Beau saw the exact moment Cain recognized you, a smirk pushing at his mouth. A few of your friends started whispering into each other’s ears, probably wondering if this was the Admiral you were hung up on. “Ah, Lieutenant, I should have known it was you.” 

“Oh?” 

Cain’s smirk grew. “Yes ma’am. I think I’d recognize that-”

Beau had heard quite enough and stood abruptly, cognac still in his hand. “I think we’ve had enough tonight, Admiral. Time to head out.” 

The shock on your face only grew more apparent as you looked at him. “Admiral Simpson. Um…h-hi.” 

“That’s him,” the maid of honor hissed into the bride’s ear. 

Cain’s eyes were hard as they bored into the side of Beau’s face. He could feel them. But he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were even more beautiful up close. Dammit. Again.

“Why don’t we let the ladies decide if I’ve had enough?”

Your eyes went wide and you took a step in front of your friends, hands fanning out to keep them behind you. “I apologize, sir, but I don’t think that is entirely appropriate.” 

“It could be our little secret and shouldn’t I be the one who says whether or not something is inappropriate? I’m sure we can all keep a secret.” 

Something Beau had spent years trying to suppress started to bite at the back of his mind. Cold rage. He moved to step in front of Cain, blocking you from the other man’s gaze. “We’re done here, Cain.” 

The tense line of his shoulders relaxed when he felt your warm hand press against his back. A quiet thank you. And the simple touch had warmth bleeding over him. 

“We are just about to leave-”

“Bride and babes!” The bartender who had served Beau hollered. “You’re up!” 

The maid of honor let out a curse and muttered something about never planning anything ever again before pushing everyone toward the bar again. And then Cain was saying something, Beau could hear the rumble of his voice at the back of his mind like a buzzing fly, but Beau couldn’t take his eyes off you. 

You as you tugged down your skirt after it had ridden up when you climbed. 

You as you helped the bride step onto one of the barstools. 

You as you followed suit until you and the rest of your friends were lined up on the bar. 

“Ladies and gents,” the bartender’s voice cut through the din of the bar just before the last song ended. “We have a special group here tonight. And they want to put on a little show for you all.” 

The crowd gave a raucous cheer and then the opening chords of a song he knew well swelled over the bar’s speakers. And then you (and your friends) started to dance. It was filled with spins and giggles followed by twists and turns that had your legs nearly glowing in the low light of the bar as Dio continued to sing. 

You're in danger, the last of a line

But the vision lasts forever…

The watching crowd hollered when you and the maid of honor showed off the moves you must have learned at your pole dancing lessons on either side of the bride. Beau couldn’t take his eyes off you. Wouldn’t. 

“I see it now.” Cain’s voice pulled his attention for just a moment. “You want her all to yourself.” 

He didn’t deign it worthy of a response. And honestly, what could he say? Denying it would be fruitless and accepting it would be handing over power to Cain. So, Beau said nothing. 

The young just getting older

We are sunlight

We can sparkle and shine

And our dreams are what we're made of… He just watched you. 

He dragged his eyes up your form and saw you looking straight at him. 

Just hold on You can make it happen for you Reach for the stars and you will fly You're hungry for heaven Hungry for heaven Hungry for heaven But you need a little hell, oh, hungry…

And, just for a moment, Beau felt like you were doing this all for him. This entire show was for him. That little dress and the way you inched it up your thighs as you moved was for him. The burgundy-tinged smile was just for him. The way your half-lidded gaze never strayed far from him in the crowd was for him. And maybe it was. Maybe it was all for him because as soon as the song ended and you helped your giggling friends off the bar—taking extra care to help the bride down as she poked at the tip of your nose—you turned to him. While your friends were swarmed by other patrons of the bar who had appreciated the show, you only looked at him. And then you were moving, pushing your way through the accumulated crowd and toward him. You licked your lips just before you slowed to a stop in front of him and Beau tracked the movement with his heart hammering in his throat. “Did you enjoy the show?” And what was he supposed to say to that? He had the wherewithal to notice Cain had retreated to a darkened corner with another drink and a different woman, his attention completely diverted. Beau paused for a moment before nodding. What good would lying do now? Something had shifted, irreparably changed. For better or worse. 

He could smell your perfume again as you moved closer, closer, closer. God, you were beautiful. And a voice that sounded almost like himself was screaming at the back of his mind that this was wrong, this was against all sorts of Naval regulations, that this would only end poorly- But it quieted as soon as your fingers pressed against his chest. He could feel each of your breaths against his mouth. He could smell your floral perfume with each of his own inhales and wanted to bury his nose in it. In you. But what Beau happily noticed was the lack of alcohol that hit his nose. You were sober. 

He knew adrenaline could make people do things that were out of character. Plenty of pilots, himself included, had landed their jet and jumped out, heart hammering and nerves buzzing. Maybe it was that for you, high off the little performance. Confident enough to approach your direct superior in a crowd. You sought him out. There was a silent conversation between you; were you going to do this? Could either of you stop? And Beau surged forward with his inevitable answer, closing the gap.

You tasted like heaven. Sticky sweet with a bite of something else and your hand gently curled over his chest as you sighed against his mouth. Your fingers inched up to press at the side of his neck as he licked between your lips. 

Every sigh, every little noise, every brush of your mouth against his had his heart racing. This was what he needed, what every part of him had wanted since you had first spent the night at his side, helping him do monotonous paperwork. Just you, in his arms, and your taste on his tongue. 

He didn’t even recall pulling you toward the small hallway that led to the bathrooms but he felt your smile against his mouth when he backed you against the wall. Your next breath puffed against his wet lips and your eyes still sparkled in the hallway’s shitty light. “We might have fifteen minutes before someone comes looking.” “I can do a lot in fifteen minutes.” 

The bathroom door creaked when he pulled you through it and the lock gave an answering click when he engaged it. You were soft everywhere and Beau groaned against your mouth as his hands skirted up your thighs, dragging the minuscule skirt of your dress with it. And you were sweet everywhere, too, as he tugged the tiny scrap of lace between your thighs to the side and drank you down. Your hands curled into his hair as he pulled one of your legs up and over his shoulder. He kept you upright as each flick of his tongue had you shaking and whimpering and filling his mouth. 

He could do this forever, even if his knees ached and his trousers were unbearably tight. 

Just as you shook in his grip and he felt you sliding down his chin, there was a sharp knock at the door. 

“We’re leaving! I’m giving you exactly thirty seconds to meet us outside.” 

Beau recognized the maid of honor’s voice on the other side. It was quickly followed by a chorus of giggles. But he hardly heard any of it as you sighed and curled your hands beneath Beau’s chin and pulled him up with a gentle tug. You kissed him, undoubtedly tasting yourself on his tongue, as your thumb swept gentle circles against his cheek. 

Your eyes were hazy and half-lidded again and you stole another kiss against his mouth when he pulled your dress back down. 

“You can definitely do a lot in fifteen minutes, Admiral.” Your finger swept beneath his lip, gathering the evidence of your secret and you licked it away. “I’ll return the favor. I promise.” 

Before you slipped away from him again, Beau kissed you again. He couldn’t get enough of it, of you. Nor the soft laugh you let out as you whispered you’d see him on Monday. 

Monday was going to be interesting. He didn’t know what it would bring, how any of this would turn out, but he had hope. And he liked to think you did, too. 

Beau couldn’t wait. 

A/N: please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

[sorchathered]

Dream Come True

Pairing- Bob Floyd/reader

Warnings-maybe language? It’s just straight fluff with maybe a twinge of angst.

Summary- reader can’t keep her feelings to herself anymore, Bob is an absolute dreamboat.

The Hard Deck is completely packed, everyone is off for the holiday weekend and it couldn’t be more overwhelming. You and Bob have hunkered down in a corner booth near the pool tables, nursing your beers while you watch the rest of the squad attempt to take on Hangman and Coyote at what is sure to be another devastating loss.

Bob comes back from the bar with more peanuts as you notice a few girls at the bar looking at him like he could be their next meal, and in true Bob fashion, he is absolutely clueless at just how hot he actually is. Just as charming as Rooster, and definitely just as handsome as Hangman; but the shy soft spoken man in front of you seems completely unaware of the looks he gets every time he steps into Penny’s bar. It’d almost be funny if you weren’t also one of the girls vying for his attention and getting absolutely nowhere.

“Goodness it sure is busy tonight, those girls couldn’t have gotten closer to me if they tried” he said, and you can’t help but throw your head back and laugh at how oblivious he was.

He quirks an eyebrow in your direction as you settle down with a deep sigh.

“You really don’t know the effect you have on people do you?” You say, mostly to yourself shaking your head with a smile, staring at your beer instead of at the bewildered WSO sitting next to you.

“Wha- Who? Me?!” Bob is beet red now, looking absolutely anywhere but at your face.

“Yes you! They were practically throwing themselves at you goofball!” Facepalming and erupting in giggles at the shock on his face.

He’s laughing with you in earnest now, but you can tell he still doesn’t quite believe you.

“Well that’s awful sweet of them darlin’ but I’ve got everything I need right here” reaching across the table and patting your hand, lingering a little longer than normal for two people who are supposedly just friends.

It’s always been like this, ever since the two of you met in the academy almost a decade ago. Sure you’ve both dated other people, but it never goes anywhere. Everyone always jokes that you’ll be married with a brood of kids one day and it gets passed off with an awkward laugh and quick subject change.

One of you is going to have to have the courage to breach whatever this is; a crush, sexual tension, love? Oh God shut up brain don’t get ahead of yourself…you’re smarter than this, if he had wanted you he would have said something by now. You could come out of your skin just thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, be his girlfriend, one day be his wife…

He’s looking at you now, eyebrows furrowed and looking a little worried that maybe the heat has gotten to you after all because you’ve all but spaced out trying to fight the war you’re having internally.

“Sweets if you think any harder your head is gonna explode, what’s going on up there?”

You open your mouth to tell him everything is fine but that is definitely (unfortunately) not what comes flying out.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since we got back to Top Gun, hell probably longer than that and I doubt you feel the same and oh God this is so awkward you know what just forget I ever said anything.” You blurted it out, literal word vomit. Good job genius now he probably thinks you’re nuts.

You can’t stay and look, it’s too hot in your little corner booth and you can feel the walls closing in so you jump up and whisper a half ass apology as you push out through the crowd and mercifully make it through the door.

Gasping in the sea air and trying to regulate your breathing are proving to be difficult now, because omg what the hell were you thinking? You told your colleague (yes he was more like your best friend but nevertheless) Bob Freaking Floyd, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen that you are in love with him and then ran out of the bar like Cinderella at midnight.

While your brain is spinning out of control, you barely notice the door opening behind you, and you certainly didn’t expect to startle as the person that came through the door links his fingers with yours.

It’s him, because of course it is. You knew better than to think you could just drop a bomb like that thinking he would let it go. Taking a deep breath you spin around to his kind face and stupidly perfect blue eyes.

“You done spiraling so we can actually talk about what the hell just happened?” He says, rubbing the back of his neck and for the first time in years you can’t get a read on him. Normally you can clock how he’s feeling from a mile away but this…this is something different.

“Is there any way I can get you to forget it?”

“Not a chance”

“I- fine.”

You open and close your mouth and try to get the words out but there’s only one thing your brain is screaming at you.

3 words, 8 letters. You say it to him in your head every day, when he’s sharing his snacks with you during Mav’s long lectures, when you are watching whatever sci fi show he’s currently obsessing over and his rambling commentary has you laughing at his nerdiness, when he sees a dog in public and immediately has to burst out for you to look at the puppy and you completely swoon over him because he may be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

Just say it. Life is too damn short. Especially in your line of work.

“I love you Robby. If it screws everything up between us and we can’t move on from this I get it, but I can’t keep it in anymore I-I’m sorry.” You’re staring at your feet now, starting to wish you could just teleport to another place or jump in whatever Time Machine exists in his shows to go back to before this ever happened.

But Bob? Robert Floyd, man of your dreams? He’s not phased or shaken, not one bit. He leans in, pulls your face in with both his hands and kisses you like it’s something the two of you have always done, like it should be completely obvious to you that he’s always felt this way, he was just waiting for you to solve the puzzle yourself.

Pulling away far sooner than you’d like, he has the audacity to chuckle when you try to chase his lips.

“Silly girl, it’s always been you don’t you know that? I was just waitin’ on you to decide what you wanted, now mind you I didn’t think it’d take you this long, but I’d wait forever if it meant we ended up here.”

You let out a watery laugh as more tears stream down your face, Bob quick to swipe them away with his thumb.

“Come on sweets, let me take you home and we can spend all weekend talking about what our forever should look like, because now that I’ve got you I’m not letting you go.”

And you do just that, because he really is everything you ever dreamed.

[numberonenat]

i asked chat gpt to make a playlist based on my candy love characters...

here's part 2 and 3: others / dateables ul + chani

here's what it gave me:

castiel:

"make me wanna die" by the pretty reckless

"ignorance" by paramore

"welcome to the black parade" by my chemical romance

"bring me to life" by evanescence

"sugar, we're goin down" by fall out boy

"i write sins not tragedies" by panic! at the disco

"sk8er boi" by avril lavigne

"boulevard of broken dreams" by green day

"dirty little secret" by the all-american rejects

"i hate everything about you" by three days grace

"numb" by linkin park

"so cold" by breaking benjamin

"gasoline" by halsey

"the kill (bury me)" by 30 seconds to mars

"i miss you" by blink-182

nathaniel:

"fix you" by coldplay

"fireflies" by owl city

"hey, soul sister" by train

"how to save a life" by the fray

"i'm yours" by jason mraz

"all of me" by john legend

"love song" by sara bareilles

"banana pancakes" by jack johnson

"you're beautiful" by james blunt

"the way i am" by ingrid michaelson

"thinking out loud" by ed sheeran

"bubbly" by colbie caillat

"say something" by a great big world

"make you feel my love" by adele

"count on me" by bruno mars

lysandre:

"supermassive black hole" by muse

"personal jesus" by depeche mode

"sweater weather" by the neighbourhood

"mr. brightside" by the killers

"do i wanna know?" by arctic monkeys

"intro" by the xx

"shake it out" by florence + the machine

"summertime sadness" by lana del rey

"creep" by radiohead

"running up that hill" by placebo

"closer" by nine inch nails

"only happy when it rains" by garbage

"1979" by the smashing pumpkins

"sour times" by portishead

"teardrop" by massive attack

kentin:

"good vibrations" by the beach boys

"walking on sunshine" by katrina and the waves

"don't stop believin'" by journey

"good time" by owl city

"here comes the sun" by the beatles

"happy" by pharrell williams

"sun street" by katrina and the waves

"shut up and dance" by walk the moon

"i'm a believer" by the monkees

"africa" by toto

"i'm gonna be (500 miles)" by the proclaimers

"dancing queen" by abba

"mr. blue sky" by elo

"all star" by smash mouth

"on top of the world" by imagine dragons

armin:

"video killed the radio star" by the buggles

"don't stop me now" by queen

"bohemian rhapsody" by queen

"take on me" by a-ha

"livin' on a prayer" by bon jovi

"sweet child o' mine" by guns n' roses

"every breath you take" by the police

"another one bites the dust" by queen

"don't you (forget about me)" by simple minds

"eye of the tiger" by survivor

"we will rock you" by queen

"don't stop believin'" by journey

"sweet caroline" by neil diamond

"boys of summer" by don henley

"hotel california" by eagles

i actually like this a lot lol

this is always so fun to make even if they don't make sense so yeah qskjvfhdjw

i'll make a part 2!!!

[lilacargent]

At it again, from another angle this time.

‘Old’ weapons. Or at least redundant, as a species traverses into space the new technology makes an old gun or even older sword/arrow/spear and so on useless and nearly powerless. The new weapons are ‘ray this’ and ‘beam that’ ‘plasma so and so’ .

Ofcourse this makes sense, the energy based weapons are far less wasteful and lighter, easier to carry and easier to handle. No need to sharpen weapons with a plasma blade and even then, why use close quarters weapons if you have access to stun, kill or poison rays and many more.

On top of that many civilisations prefer to forget their less then stellar past and make analog weapons obsolete. When the humans joined the council many expected them to do the same. They didn’t, production stopped yes, but interested people could still partake in lessons and the old fashioned ways were shown off in museums. Training to be part of a spaceship crew still included lessons in their old weapons as an opportunity to be prepared for going to “newer” worlds.

So with that in mind i have a few little vignettes ideas and for ease’ sake its gonna be on the same ship, the Serpentine.

Important crew:

Primoz, captain -Limoyh a four armed species-

Krag, second in command (brother of Primoz)

Kit, dokter -avian, bird like, she has feathers like a swallow-

Ortez, ASR (all species resources, human resources in space) -kiltak, insectoid species, think ants but exoskeleton-

Lugea, helmsperson (does the steering) -rock like alien-

Artex, engineer/mechanic 1 -also Kiltak-

And then our humans:

Kamari, navigator -Eritrean woman- (has cat named Sidra)

Markus, weapons expert (knows how to use them and upkeep, also shields) -Swedish man-

Petrus, mechanic/engineer 2 -Italian man-

Lilly, administrator/note keeper (learns languages for fun)-english woman-

Yes i know all of this could have also been accomplished by saying they are all from America… nope this is more fun. This is under the assumption that to get into the joint academy for space faring you need to be able to speak and write English.

Obviously there are more people on the ship but these are most important

~~~~~~~~

1. Sparring

Ortez was having a good day, the serpentine had left port and was making good progress toward their next destination on w-kl-18, referred to as deltax by it’s residents, for a routine drop off.

In port on Unity (the planet where the council resides and the universal court is) they picked up the final crew members among who a ‘team’ of humans. Pre bonded humans were supposed to be less chaos inducing and easier bonded with the rest of the crew. Ortez was rather happy the captain listened to him on this matter.

The humans had been more diverse than he expected and were currently what they called ‘settling in’. He was on his way to the rooms they had.

‘Stop it please we’ve been here less than 4 hours!’ The soft voice he recognises as Lilly’s is barely audible over the loud clanging sounds. Rounding the corner Ortez sees a terrifying scene. The two human males locked together with two sticks made of metal baring teeth at each other, with a push the olive skinned man, he remembers is called Petrus, breaks the hold and goes in low swiping at the tall mans legs making Markus fall over.

Ortez is about to intervene when without a sound the dark skinned leader of the group seemingly appears without a sound behind him and runs into the fray with a similar stick.

Whacking Petrus stick away from Markus’ throat she steps inbetween “stop it. You’re scaring our ASR. We want to make a good impression remember.” The men look right at him and both put down the sticks, Markus puts his hand up in a ‘wave’ “sorry about that, Ortez it was right? We were just sparring.’ Moving further into the room he uncurls his front two claws tapping at the metal poles “sparring with this? We usually only do body to body training, this seems rather old.” Petrus speaks up to that “ah yes those are old earth weapons, we like keeping up a bit of skill with several kinds as a side activity. Don’t worry tho, we train with blunt weapons.”

Not entirely appeased the insectoid looks to the imposing woman, who seems entirely at ease even though two people had been fighting. When she caught his eyes, she smiled that terrible toothy grin “truly don’t worry, like Petrus said they are blunt and it is a way for us to let of some steam and keep in shape. But next time we’ll do it in the training rooms… right boys?” Pinning the two men with withering stares they nodded quickly.

Ortez did not know humans released steam, but he felt right now was not the moment to go into that. Saying his goodbye he skittered to inform the captain.

This was bound to be interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~

2. “The Roman empire”

“So you are telling me that at any given moment you could be thinking about a several thousand years old society that no longer exists and it would surprise nobody?” Artex was perplexed, when he and Petrus were working on the reactor core Lilly had wandered through and mentioned this old civilisation sparking heated debate. She thought the greeks were far more interesting but Petrus had been unmoved by her arguments. The other man speaks while pushing some buttons “well yea, the empire made great strides and amazing structures, Lilly just prefers the mythos of the greek while i enjoy the focus on millitary prowess.” Shrugging he looks up “don’t you guys have something like that?” Artex stretches his legs, all 6 of them in a wave like motion “not really, when change happened the history books were changed to make it seem like it was always that way” the human makes eye contact “wait so how do you know how to play -old civilisation- as a kid? We play fought with wooden sticks, wooden swords and branches we cut to look like guns…” that horrofied the insectoid, raised with violence like it was a normal thing.

Almost like they never left their dark ages

~~~~~~~~~~~~

3. Whats in a name (bit off topic but the idea just kinda happened)

Te very first time the humans were introduced to their new crew there was a bit of a hiccup. When Kamari introduced herself they looked up a bit confused but went further down the row. After Lilly they came back around and referred to Kamari as moon. Now Kamari recognised the strange look, they had translators that only had basic human translation, which means that her name “Kamari” which comes from Arabic and is a word for moon/soft glow of the moon, is translated fully but not as name so when they speak to her it translates out of their language to English which would be moon. This is luckily easily fixed with an update, but it was something that stil spoke of how new the human race was to the cosmos.

Her cat Sidra made them laugh as that means Star so she was the moon with her star.

(Random thought about how multiple human languages could screw with translations)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soooooo kinda had a 4th story that is pretty sad but also bad ass, but this is getting too long already

Imma write that in a new post over the coming days

Hopefully people like this, if you have prompts you’d like to see with this crew feel free to ask.

[elletheactualmenace]

Party In France

Pairing: 11th Doctor x fem!reader

Summary: You and the Doctor go to a party in France.

Warnings: guns, suggestive, a window breaks?

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: Enjoy!

“How does this one look?” You ask as you walk into the consol room. You’ve got on a teal and pink dress with white lace on the top rim. It's got a huge train and a tight corset.

The Doctor spins on his heel to look at you. He’s dressed already, but waiting for you to find a dress that you like. His smile morphs into a small frown when his eyes land on you. It makes you worry. Do you really look that bad? You think to yourself.

“What?” You ask the Doctor and his shoulders slump. “It’s a beautiful dress. It just won't work for this party. Plus it doesn’t match my handsome outfit.” He states with a proud smirk plastered on his face. Your worried attitude quickly slips away into an annoyed one. Of course that was the thing he was thinking about.

“Ok, sure. Whatever you say. It would be a felony if the Doctor's plus one didn’t wear a matching outfit.” You sarcastically reply rolling your eyes.

“You know we can’t do this all night, right? We’ll be late.” You utter out with a huff, trying to adjust the corset to be more comfortable against your rib cage.

“Oh, but on the contrary, dear. We are time travelers and with this beautiful machine,” He says in an almost sugar sweet voice towards the control panel. You raise a brow at his tone. “We technically can’t be late to anything.”

“Oh, oh, oh but you forget, my dearest darling,” You mockingly rebuttal. “Our beautiful Tardis doesn't alway like to listen to you. Does she?” You point out, hand on your hip. “So if she wants us to be late, we’ll be late.” The Doctor gives you an unamused look.

“It has happened once or twice, yes.” He mutters quietly, because he doesn’t like being refuted. “You better hurry up then, you annoyingly beautiful, know-it-all. Before I leave you here.” He tuts out. You roll your eyes with a grin.

“Of course, my liege.” You sarcastically remark curtsying. He just smirks and tries to make a sound similar to one of annoyance. But he instead gives in and chuckles with a smile. You turn and shuffle back to the hall leading out of the console room to try on, and probably get another disapproved dress. You smile softly and shake your head at the Doctor's fussiness. But you know that he can tell when you like a dress and when you don’t. He will make you keep trying them on until he knows you like it. He also just likes you putting on snarky attitude fashion shows for him, so he can comment back at you with snarkiness as well.

——

“Doctor?” You tap your foot with an annoyed look on your face. You sense something is off and know it has something to do with him. He just turns to you with a worried expression on his face, and smiles nervously as you raise your eyebrows in confusion.

“Okay umm slight problem,” The Doctor chuckles nervously.

“And the problem being?” You ask, giving him a threatening smile. He breathes out a sigh and looks behind him at the people in huge gowns and fancy suits, like the one he has on. “I may have brought us to the wrong time…” He fiddled with his long blue and gold coat. 

You sigh and put your face in your hands. “Please do not tell me you put that stupid unlucky bow tie of yours on under your outfit” You shake your head and peek from between your fingers to see him scratching the back of his head. You let out a frustrated sigh. 

“Wanted a bit of fun?” He tries, but he seems unconvinced himself.

Both you and the Doctor are wearing clothing from the late 1780s. The Doctor is wearing a blue, gold and white outfit that was commonly worn during the time period. And you finally decided on wearing a classic puffed up blue dress with layers of skirts beneath the colorful top one. The bustle you are wearing is making it hard to breathe. It may have taken you over an hour to find a dress, but you look stunning.

The Doctor had promised you a safe enjoyable night. Obviously it has not gone to plan. The night began slowly and wonderfully. It looked then, like it was going to be, and would stay, calm and normal. Well as normal as a night in the 18th century could be.

“Okay,” you breath out “What have you gotten us into this time?” You sigh hands on your hips.

“You know some French history, right?” He asks, still fiddling with his outfit. “Yes.” You reply looking up at him.

“Okay good, that’s good. Now before I get you too worried or anxious about this whole thing,” he holds out his hand to you. “Let’s get our daily dose of running in. How ‘bout it? What do ya’ say?”

You look at his hand, shake your head, smile and take his hand. “Oh what the hell, Geronimo.” He grins and repeats your words before dashing hand in hand with you through the big 18th century doors.

——

You run with your dress in your hands so it doesn’t trip you. The Doctor runs next to you.

“So,” you pant out, “where are we running to?”

“The Tardis!” He responds. “We shouldn’t be here, so we are leaving.” You nod in understanding.

You both continue to run down the long high ceilinged hall of the palace that the party was taking place in.

“If we aren’t supposed to be here, why did we come in the first place?” Your eyebrows scrunch while you huff and pant down the halls.

“I was invited a long time ago and I assumed it would be fine!” The Doctor says marking a sharp turn and you stumble after him.

“What are we running from?” Ask almost tripping in your heels. The second the Doctor opens his mouth to speak, a loud crash and bomb flashes behind you. You duck and try to cover your head as you continue running. 

“I’m going to kill you,” you mutter and the Doctor takes hold of your hand grinning.

“Promise you can, as soon as we’re safe.”

You continue running, not looking back. Panting as you hold your dress up. The Doctor makes a sharp turn around a corner and you stumble after him.

“Doctor!” You call as you begin falling behind. He glances back.

“Hurry up!” He shouts. You grumble loudly.

“I’m trying!” You shout back. The Doctor slows down to match your pace and grabs your arm.

“I know it’s hard in your outfit, but we’ve really got to go.” The Doctor says in a hasty voice.

“What are we running from?” You pant.

“The French.”

“What?!” You yelp.

The Doctor pulls you with him through large doors and into a room. You double over, hand on your legs, trying to catch your breath.

The Doctor scans his sonic against the doors lock and a sound clicks.

“Okay.” He sighs, turning to the large window opposite you. 

“Stop.” You state firmly making him quickly spin to look at you. His face scrunched with confusion and concern.

“Tell me what’s going on. Right now.” You grumble out angrily as your chest rises and falls as much as possible in the tight bustle.

“Well you know of the French Revolution, yes?” He asks as he turns to begin inspecting the window, trying to avoid eye contact.

You hum with a nod and he continues.

“Alright well, the French people are mad, and the French royals are about to be killed. Or overthrown I suppose.” He huffs trying to open the large window. But it seems to be sealed. He continues.

“And while getting our drinks I found out that some of the people here aren’t in fact French humans.” 

“French aliens?” You ask, confused.

“Yes, French aliens. That I- erm, that I…”

“Insulted? Offended?” You list and the Doctor rolls his eyes.

“Yes and yes.” The Doctor sighs.

The Doctor walks over to you and picks up a fancy looking chair sitting next to you. You move out of his way and watch him as he takes the fancy wooden chair to the window. He lifts it up to his shoulder.

He grins at you before bashing the chair against the glass of the window, in the process tossing it out of the building. Glass sharers all over the floor with a loud crash. The Doctor reaches his hand out for you to take.

“Come on darling,” He grins breathlessly, you roll your eyes at his pet name.

“Fine, but if I die you better leave me in the dress. People should know what you put me through.” 

He scoffs as you take his hand.

“Just come on.” He sighs.

——

Your heels sink into the muddy ground. You have to pull your leg up like a ton of bricks are attached to them just to take a step. The Doctor isn’t having as much trouble. He’s practically walking on it as it’s not there.

“Doctor, slow down!” You whisper yell, and he quickly shushes you.

“Y/n what have I said? You need to stay quiet. It’s a matter of life and death-“

“Not unlike any other day for us,” You comment with a sigh.

“Unfortunately yes, now please, shush!” You roll your eyes but trudge on.

At this point you have given up on your dress, letting it drag in the mud. Hopefully if you are buried in this dress, someone will have the decency to clean it up a little.

“Look! I see the Tardis just over there!” The Doctor smiles and takes hold of your hand. You make sure your grip is firm so his hand doesn’t slip from yours. It’s happened before, he doesn’t even notice so it usually ends bad.

“Thank god.” You say with a relieved smile. 

The Doctor pulls you along with him and you try to keep up in your treacherous outfit. But you don’t have such luck. Your foot slips from your shoe and your body halts completely. In the presses the Doctor gets pulled back. The Doctor looks at you confused.

“Y/n? What’s the matter?” He looks you up and down worried. Why did you stop, did you see something, did you get hurt?

“My shoe’s in the mud and so is my foot.” You practically whine out. “Sorry, we can keep going, it just startled me.” You try to brush off.

“You sure? I can just grab it for yo-“

“Doctor, we're wasting time, just keep waking. This is a useless conversation.” You huff and move to take the lead. This time you are in front.

“Right. But I could just get it-“ You snatch his hand shaking your head as you continue walking. 

“Life and death, remember?” You question as the mud covers my bare foot like a sock. At this point you don’t even care about the mushy mud between your toes. The Doctor just nods, suddenly remembering the seriousness of the situation.

As you near the Tardis you can hear shouting coming closer. You and the Doctor make eye contact, both silently agreeing to sprint the rest of the way to the Tardis. 

The Doctor begins sprinting first, almost making you stumble at his speed. The Doctor quickly drags you along. Your feet continue to sink deep in the mud but this time you push harder to keep up with him.

The shouting becomes louder. And suddenly you and the Doctor are surrounded by people from the party you just escaped. The aliens, you assume when you see their non-human guns. You sigh in defeat.

“Nothing can work with you,” You grumble out, turning to the Doctor. He just smiles at you nervously.

“I can get us out of this,” He whispers to you.

”Hands up! Where we can see them!” One of the men circling you says. You raise your hands in surrender and have to nudge the Doctor with your elbow to do the same.

”Gentlemen, so sorry if we seem suspicious, me and my date were, uh, we were…” The Doctor starts, trying to come up with an excuse.

”We were going to have sex.” You finish for him, ignoring the heat on your checks. It was the only reason you could think of as to why you would be sneaking away. The Doctor's head whips around to face you, his face red and his eyes wide. His brows scrunch as he looks at you.

“What?” The Doctor squeaks out.

”Nevermind what you were going to do,” The man growels out, “You’re coming with us.” He says taking a step closer, and aiming his gun at you. The Doctor seems to snap out of his embarrassment trance when he notices the threatening gun directed towards you.

”Really quickly though, do you mind if me and my date get a few kisses in, in this blue odd looking box?” You ask, smiling shyly. The man looks like he’s thinking it over, and you hold your breath.

”We’ll be quick, you men can be outside the whole time, just for modesty.” The Doctor quickly adds on, glancing at the others surrounding us. The man with the gun grunts and nods.

”Fine, but no more than five minutes you horny scum.” He says pointing for us to move into the Tardis.

You thank him with a curtsy. You and the Doctor rush over to the doors of the Tardis. You make sure not to open the doors too wide so that they can’t see the inside of the Tardis. 

“We’ll be fast.” You add before slipping in, the Doctor quickly follows. 

As the door shuts, the Doctor sighs loudly and leans his weight against the door. You stand, panting, with your hands on your hips. You watch him with a small laugh. Even though you could’ve died, the thrill of getting away was always fun. 

You move over to the console and start it up. You’re not sure where you’re bringing it, just away from France. The Doctor now moves from against the door as the Tardis begins to whirl. 

“What now?” You ask as you begin to loosen the ties on your uncomfortable corset. 

The Doctor says nothing, and it looks like the gears are turning in his head. It looks like he is trying to think back. “I’m pretty sure I remember dealing with this earlier.” The Doctor speaks, still thinking. Your head tilts in confusion.

“Remember?” He asks, “I think I had those sandshoes and the tight suits.” The Doctor pounders aloud.

“You mean the sexy suits?” You ask with a slight smirk. The Doctor blushes, but then becomes a bit defensive.

“You don’t think my tweed jackets are sexy?” He asks with a furrowed brow. You smile playfully.

“I never said that.” You chuckle. The Doctor just rolls his eyes and moves on with the conversation.

“Maybe, but were you thinking it?” He asks suspiciously.

“No. I think you’re quite handsome.” You admit. The Doctor seems content with the answers and turns.

“We really get everywhere.” You note. The Doctor nods and smiles.

“We do, so we can just leave,” The Doctor explains simply as he goes over to the console. He turns knobs and switches, redirecting the Tardis from the random place you put in earlier.

“That’s a first,” You comment with a smile and you pull the ties on your dress even looser.. “It’s kinda nice, though.” You say smirking slightly. 

You walk over to the Doctor to place your hands on his chest. You smile up at him lazily. “Well since we’re off the hook, we did say we’d get a few kisses in.” You mumble up to him. 

The Doctor blushes but smiles. “As you wish,” he says softly, “you horny scum.” The Doctor adds with a playful smirk. He then glances down at your muddy feet.

“Maybe you should get cleaned up first.” He says with a chuckle. You look down to my feet and then to his muddy shoes.

“You’re one to talk.” You utter out, before reaching up to crash your mouth against his.

[girlwitheconverse]

COLLAPSING : ̗̀➛ König

Pairing: König x fem!reader

Genre: romance, angst

Story type: one shot

Word count: 1k

TW(s): canon violence, explosions, death

masterlist

“Almost done.” You say in your earpiece as you move your sniper rifle around, using the crosshairs to search for other possible enemies. You recognize one and shoot them right in the head, perfect you think to yourself.

“Someone is coming into your building, I’ll watch your back.” You hear the voice of your Colonel say in your ear, you’re hiding at the top floor of an abandoned building so you could see the enemies better.

Suddenly you hear silent footsteps behind you and you slowly take your dagger and gun from your gear, trying to act like you’ve heard nothing. As soon as you feel them behind you you quickly roll on your back and shoot at the face but you miss, they try to shoot you but you dodge the bullet and stand up.

You grab his arms and stab his neck, hitting the jugular.

He falls immediately on the ground and in a few seconds he’s dead on the floor.

“Looks like you can watch your back by yourself.” You hear your Colonel say from the door as he leans against it.

“Of course I can, König.” You say with a smile as you lay down on your stomach on the building’s balcony, in the same position you were before the interruption to watch out for enemies. You hear König sitting next to you. “You’re just going to sit here?”

“Why not? All the enemies have been taken down, this is just a plus.” He says with a sigh as he leans his head against the wall and looks at you.

“Better safe than sorry.” You say as you continue to watch out through the viewfinder.

“So…Horangi told me that you’ve chosen a wedding dress…” He says with a smirk under the mask, or, the shirt that he uses as mask.

You roll your eyes, “Of course he told you…”

“Can I see it?” he asks.

“No you can’t, you know it’s bad luck if the groom sees the bride in the dress before the wedding!” You say as you give him a brief look through the corner of your eyes.

“Oh c’mon, liebe!” he pouts “can you at least describe it to me?”

“Forget it.” You say as you chuckle at his eagerness, then you notice strange movements outside, you recognize a few people with the enemy’s uniform. “We may have some problems, Colonel.”

“What?” he asks as he immediately switches back to work mode and looks out the balcony. “What are they doing?”

“All these men were in this building and they didn’t attack us?” you say confused, “I mean you’re the Colonel, a pretty big target, and they didn’t even try to scratch you?”

“Something’s fishy here.” He says as he lays down next to you. You use the viewfinder to zoom more and then you see it.

“I think they have a bomb…Unless what they have in their hands are just random remotes…” You say with wide eyes.

“You think that they’ve placed a bomb under this building?” he asks as he looks at me.

Then you hear an explosion, immediately followed by the shaking of the building.

“I think so, we need to run.”

You and König run down the stairs of the abandoned building as explosions continue and the shaking increases.

“Shit!” You scream as the stairs collapse in front of you, between you and the next step there are now more than five meters.

And that step collapses too. You’re blocked on that floor, the sixth.

“Verdammt!” König says as he leads you around the floor, searching for a way down.

Another explosion and a part of the floor where you are standing next to falls down.

“König, stop!” You scream, “We can do nothing, you can do nothing!” You say as you tug at his hand to make him stop, “we’re walking corpses!”

He stops and turns to look at you, “I know…I just…” he says as he looks around.

You tug at his mask, “please, I don’t want to die looking at your mask, I want to see your face.”

König nods and takes off his mask, showing you his face, his handsome face, the same face that took you one and half year of relationship to finally see. You still remember how you cried when you saw his face for the first time, now six years ago.

“So this is how it’s going to end, uh?” he says as he sits on the floor, ignoring the shaking of the building — you do the same. “But in the end, I liked my life…”

“Siren…” you whisper as you sit next to him, he turns his head to look at you, confused. “My dress — you sob — it was a siren dress with a lace bodice, I couldn’t wait to show it to you on the day of our wedding.”

König’s eyes widen and a tear rolls down his cheek, “I…I’m sure you looked incredible in it…” he says with a smile as he imagines it. “My only regret in life is not marrying you sooner.”

The building shakes again and you move even closer to König, you kiss his lips softly between the tears. Konig takes your dog tags and ties the chains together so that you always stay close together.

“Now we’re married.” he says with a forced smirk as he looks at the tied dog tags that are between your bodies. That only makes you sob harder, you wrap your hand over the dog tags and König wraps his hand over yours.

“I know I should hope that you had never come in here to watch my back....But…I don’t want to die alone.” You sob as you look up at him, “And I’m so happy to die with you.”

“Stupid, If I hadn't gone in earlier I would have gone in at the first explosion, I would never have left you alone to die.” He chuckles as he cups your cheek in his hand, “If you die, I die…I couldn’t live without you.”

You kiss him again and there’s another explosion, you hug him and hide your face in his chest. When, after a few seconds, you try to move to look at him again he places his hand on the back of your head and holds you in place.

“Don’t look up.” He says as he caresses the back of your head.

You realize and you squeeze him harder, “The roof over us is going to collapse, isn’t it?”

“Anytime now, I don’t want you to look.” König says as he holds you closer and tighter, “I hope to meet you again in another life, a life when we get really married…” He chokes a sob, he needs to be strong for you in these last moments. “I love you.”

You sob, “I love you too…so much…”

Then there’s another explosion and the building shakes again. You hear the sound of walls crushing. You feel König kissing your head one last time and then everything happens quickly.

The roof falls. Pain. You see everything black and, after a few minutes…

Silence.

If you liked this story (if I made you cry) reblog, like and comment. <3

[wolven91]

Drifting - Part 4

Casper felt *strong*.

He felt like until now, there had been a fear in the back of his mind. A fear that one day his body would fail him.

But as he reached for the metal shutter door, several meters wide and taller than him, his muscles pulled without hesitation. There was no pain, no pressure as his arms engaged and tore the metal upwards with the ease of lifting a single petal that had fallen from a delicate flower.

Once the shutter was mostly up, it stopped and dented, jammed at an angle, Casper considered it for a moment and mentally shrugged, his arms not being able to make that gesture at the moment.

Ducking under and through the shutter door, the man looked out across a great landscape. Turning to peer left and right, the building he had been in was a featureless concrete slab that showed signs of scorch marks and lumps of the solid material broken and pitted as if shot with a gun.

There were no windows or doors all along the space with the exception of the series of hanger bay doors. But Casper had no interest in those, he was staring at the odd shapes and objects in the distance partially hidden by huge rolling hills and dunes.

Who could stop him now from taking a quick look? He felt *free*. What would have caused him pause before was no longer a concern.

The moment he stepped from the safety of the shutter door, he felt his foot sink into the earth, unsteadying him, making him look down. Casper watched as great mounds of dirt built up around his metal foot, as if he was far heavier than normal. He *was* heavier. Why was he..?

It came rushing back. He was piloting a mech. It was an odd sensation to remember such an important and obvious concept. How could he forget such a thing?

The man straightened and took a breath.

Breathing in the alien world's clean air it satisfied him. It was cool and rich with untainted oxygen. He could taste that there were very few particulates to damage him. He knew information this on a factual level.

The young man breathed in again; he could feel his lungs fill and his heart sing for it. He touched a hand to his chest over his heart, only for a 'clang' to draw his head down.

A metal hand, against a metal chest.

If he could frown, he would have. He settled for his optics to click shut, clean themselves, then click open again.

Why was it so hard to remember who he was inside the machine?

"Casper! You having fun there?" Demanded Zeet inside Casper's head.

[I think I broke the door. Sorry about that.]

A moment's pause.

"Ha! Break all the doors you like, it appears like you're already, ready to go for a stroll?" He sounded completely unfazed by the human's destruction; almost giddy even.

[The air out here is... I don't know how to describe it. Cleaner?]

"Your generator needs oxygen to burn, the one in your chest is only a basic model. Barely enough power to run your current rig, although I have tinkered with it, so it should suffice for what we have planned." Came a smug response from Zeet.

"I suspect the air out there is a better quality than the hanger, what with the enclosed space and multiple generators running." The head engineer explained, again, unbothered by the idea of generators running without significant air flow in an enclosed space.

[I think you're right.]

Casper took another step, for the second time finding his footing unstable. Zeet seemed to anticipate Casper's next question.

"We deliberately use loose dirt in the starting area, the idea is to force new pilots to learn how to adjust and fall without fear of being at the top of a hill or a distance away from rescue."

[I think I'm alright.]

As Casper took more steps, they became more confident. He stopped looking down and looked up, to the horizon where the strange square shapes peeked over the hills.

[What's that?] The human asked, while the mech briefly lifted one of its arms and pointed at the structures before dropping it back down to its side. Why did it move so organically?

"An assault course of sorts, although this would be far into your future as a pilot before you'd go over there. That said, I feel that it would be rather pointless to have you make such progress without letting you find your limits. Why not head over and see what you do?" Suggested the voice.

"This is ill advised. We haven't got nearly enough sensors or monitors to keep track of the relevant information." Came Wren's voice, quiet until now.

"You're telling me you don't have his readouts?"

"Not nearly as many as I'd like or choose! This was meant to be a proof of concept! Not a full-scale exercise!"

"Then you will take a page out of our books and plan for any eventuality in future. Casper! Onwards!" Zeet demanded, dismissing the doctor's comments with an almost audible flick of his hand.

Casper urged himself out into the open fields and over the green grass covered dunes. He wandered over to the distant objects without issue, merely walking up then down the rough terrain without delay. By the time he began to near the objects, the human inside the towering machine had long forgotten that he existed once more. Once he arrived at the strange shapes, the young man discovered that he found that they made up a replica of a large town, or centre of a city.

As he walking amongst the buildings, choosing the centre of a street, he noted there were no vehicles, the shop fronts weren't hollow and the buildings themselves; solid blocks without features. It was strange to be reminded of what the world was supposed to somewhat look like now, as he strolled down the main road of the faux town.

[I thought you said this was an assault course?] Casper sent back to the hanger, not seeing the drones overhead, watching his every move. He gingerly laid a hand on the top of what could have been a low corner shop as he reached a intersection of four roads.

"Well we can certainly put you through your paces if you like?" Came a flat tone. Gone was the confidence or giddy vibe to his words. Casper's optics clicked as he felt a strange sensation of danger creep over him. He looked down at one of his hands and made a fist before relaxing. Unlike his own hands, that had a constant tremble since the loss of Earth, these metal hands were perfectly still. Casper never noticed this however.

Casper had done assault courses on Earth. 'Team building' exercises. He wasn't brawny or even particularly fast. He was clever, but powerful wasn't a word he'd use in any self description.

Until today...

He *felt* powerful. He could trust his legs, trust his arms.

To the camera drones overhead, the basic mech, one that was designed to take punishment, but not excel at much else, tilted its reconnaissance unit that sat atop its shoulders as if to crack it's neck. If it were organic, of course.

[Go for it.]

"Understood." Came the immediate reply before Casper got the profound feeling that his next words were not address to the human. "Qik? You're up."

[Qik?]

"Defend yourself Casper." Came a dispassionate response.

[Wait, what? I thought this was an assault course?]

"Defeat the aggressor. No further communication will be acknowledged or sent." Zeet stated, before the human felt whatever connection that was within Casper's head, closedoff.

'Defend' himself? 'Defeat the aggressor'?!

Was he expected to fight? Casper couldn't fight! He'd never been in anymore more than a scuffle when he was twelve! He stepped away from the corner building and into the centre of the intersection, looking around himself for a threat. There were alleys and smaller roads he could duck down to break line of sight, but he need to know *where* the 'aggressor' was coming from!

Casper blinked, and in his panic, his need to find the threat, he felt his mind suddenly expand past what he could see.

It was as if a new sense had just opened up to him. Like he'd lived his life with his eyes closed and was blind, only to discover now; that he could see. This new sensation was not sight, but Casper could *feel* movement of something large and fast approaching him from the hangers to the south, where he had been only a few minutes before.

Whatever it was, it was big and fast. He could sense it was as big as he was. Nothing like the tiny dots that floated harmlessly above.

Aware of the direction of the threat, Casper ducked, dropping his head low and ensuring he himself couldn't be seen over the tops of any of the lower buildings. Quickly shuffling, the man got off the street and ducked down a side road, scooting further down, almost leaning against the building with his back. He paid no attention to the scrapes and loose concrete dust the metal of his back scratched off the structures.

{What idiot did that moron trick into this game this time?}

It was a genderless statement, devoid of emotion. It wasn't talking, like Zeet over the radio. It was text, and an image of a command line and the words filled in at the front of Casper's mind. The man could feel that he could respond.

[I'm the new guy.]

{Cute. Come out and I'll make this quick.}

[Sure, where are you?]

{Finally, a smart one, I'm coming up the main ingress.}

The young man had no interest in revealing himself. Just because the words carried no tone or emotion did not mean that he was a fool. He could sense the threat, it had crossed the distance from the hangers to the fake-town in a matter of less than a minute, whereas it took him substantially longer. Now though, he could see the pulsing 'blip' in his mind's eye. It was slowly making its way up the centre of the town, truthfully being exactly where it had told him it would be.

{I'm starting to suspect you're thinking you're clever...}

[Why's that?]

{You're hiding.}

[I'm struggling to work the controls. Only just started piloting.]

{I don't like liars 'new guy'}

As he crept around the main road, quickly tip toing across the intersecting main road, and using the alleys and smaller side roads to move around, Casper caught his first glimpse of the threat. It was a mech, but unlike his own; blocky, thick with exposed metal, pistons and wires. This one was sleek, designed for speed, but no less deadly. It reminded him of a sword. The sharp angles, the pointed feet that stabbed into the ground. It had a series of spikes along it's back like boney wings.

The whole thing screamed 'professional', all wrapped up in a red and silver paint job. It was the mech of a main character to Casper's eyes.

It didnt so much as walk or move either, the word that sprang to Casper's mind was 'stalking'. It stalked forwards, it's 'head' a pointed eagle-like structure, turning left to right, obviously scanning for him.

[What makes you think I'm a liar?]

{This is just getting insulting now. I'm the final test 'new guy'. You think they'd put you against me? Before you can even move?}

[Stranger things have happened.]

Casper got no response to his last message, but watched as the pointed head, ducked low and out of sight. He was positioned behind her now, closer to the south, nearer the hangers where she had entered, but he now lost track of her. Casper wasn't a fighter, he had no intention of getting into a brawl and made his way to the edge of the town fully intending on running back to the hangers.

The young man wasn't without some knowledge of how to throw a punch. After a physical altercation in his younger school years, his overly dramatic mother had sent him to self defence classes to stand up to the bullies. Instead of being beaten up in just a school setting, he was summarily beaten up in an official setting instead.

All he'd learnt was howto roll with the punches, literally. Casper never stayed on the ground, that was where 'bad' always ended up 'worse'.

Still crouched, sometimes using his hands against the hardtop of the fake roads to help him move, Casper finally made it to the edge of the town and learnt that it wasn't going to be that easy.

The second part of his mech broke the edge boundary of the faux town, a klaxon sounded along with one of the annoying drones swooping down with a red, flashing light directly over his head.

Casper bolted across the road and practically dived into an alleyway, into the town and away from the alarm, which remained in place. His head poked out from around a corner further into the town to see if the mysterious mech had approached to investigate.

The pointed leg that swung at Casper's head missed by what felt like mere inches, saved only because he flinched at something moving fast and fell backwards, deeper into the alleyway. The assaulting red and silver mech obliterated the plain wall with its kick in a shower of destroyed concrete and rebar; bent and demolished at the sheer force of its strike.

{You're fast.} Came a message.

Casper was up, his fists raised, elbows in. He was in his pocket and ready to protect his head.

The heel kick to his solar plexus sent him backwards, arms outstretched by the sheer force as he flew out of the other end of the alleyway and rolling head over heels into the main road again.

{Not fast enough.}

Casper backward rolled onto his feet, one of the buildings arresting his movement in a jarring thud that stuttered his vision. He didn't think, merely moved as he dived to his left down the main road. The besieged building that he'd lent against only moments ago was already buckled, but the rocket propelled mech that slammed into it with its shoulder, destroyed it in a shower of crumbling dust and materials.

The assaulting mech stomped from the cloud of debris and glared down the main road; its own optic sensors scanning for the new pilot.

The road was empty.

{You know I would have already won this right?} The red and silver mech taunted, stalking forwards, looking left and right, clearing buildings. It was sending the message over an open band, so anyone with ears on could hear it.

[I'm still standing.] Came a similar open frequency message. Qik snarled. She couldn't track or know where the new pilot was, she was working on visuals only.

{They disable my tracking system. To give you the tinest of a chance.}

She was crouched low, clearing corners, making sure the 'new guy' didn't try what she had and kick her recon unit in. Without eyes, it was an automatic win for whoever could see.

[If it's any consolation, I don't think this has a tracking system.]

Qik smirked, cocky son of a bitch. She was going to enjoy breaking him down, bit by-

[Heads up!]

A shadow flickered across the street and Qik span on one foot, swinging her leg round in a perfect roundhouse kick that would cut any mech that was in range behind her in half.

But despite her aiming high, looking to destroy an arm or even knock off the head of the opponent, her kick was too low.

From atop a building, the new mech was halfway through a jump and falling rapidly towards Qik. It was a terrible, stupid idea. Gravity was not friendly with anything as big and heavy as a mech. Only those rigs with jump packs and boosters could consider leaving the ground. But this idiot had climbed a building and had launched itself at her?!

So shocked was she, that this idiot would try such an insane and self-destructive move, Qik couldn't decide how to react. She had literally never seen this before.

That delay was enough.

On his way past, Casper grabbed a hold of the eagle-esque head and held on tight, his metal fingers denting the recon unit casing.

Gravity grabbed him and threw him against her, flipping him over her while he hurtled towards the ground in a mulit-ton mech that landed squarely on its recon unit, destroying into a million tiny, expensive pieces. Qik landed on her back, but immediately lost all visual read outs as her own unit was partislly torn from its housing.

{*What?!*} Qik demanded, unbelieving this idiot could succeed in such a stupid move! This was squidgit-shit!

"What?!" Blurted Zeet, blinking as the human had just defeated, the undefeated mercenary; Qik on his very first jaunt within a single hour of his first mech startup.

[What?] Asked Casper, also blinded and unable to move, but wholly unaware of the shitstorm he had just started.

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

[drefear]

Hail to the King

Chapter 4: Understanding

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the head of the biggest mafia family in Nueva York, scaring almost all of its citizens. Except you. And that’s exactly what he needs.

TW: angst, violence, backstory, Miguel will consistently be a dick.

Your back hit the mat beneath you with a thud, knocking the wind out of your lungs. You hissed at the bruise that would form on your leg now, taking another hit from Miguel. 

“Get up.” He commanded and you glared at him, looking over your weaker frame like a tree staring down at a squirrel. “You haven’t improved.” 

“Well, it’s been a week! Can’t you just teach me to shoot a gun?” You panted, trying to regain your breath as he rolled his eyes at you. 

“And if you drop your gun?” His face was still hard, stoic, as he gave you a sharp tone. “Or even better, if you forget it? What will you do then?” He asks. 

You fall silent, sighing and getting up. “Ok, fair… but I’m not big like you, and I’m definitely not as strong.” You get into the fighting stance he taught you an hour ago. “And this is my first lesson.” 

He shot out a punch and you leaned out of the way, before feeling his foot pull your knees forward, bringing you to a kneeling position before him. His hand grabs your throat as he bends down, too tall to grab you normally. 

“Again.” He stated, before you stood up, huffing. 

“This is getting me nowhere.”

“Because you’re not understanding how dire these lessons are. You’d be dead in ten minutes if you had to handle a fraction of what I do in a week. Your first meeting would have you being sold on the black market.” His words were like a movie, not reality, right? 

“The black market is real?” 

“…carajo.” He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Maybe you should have stayed a waitress…” Miguel mumbled as you glared at him now, disliking the feeling of not being able to do something. 

“Again.” You called out and let him throw the first punch, dodging and slipping past him, punching him in the back. He barely moves as he looks at you over his shoulder. 

“Ok. You got past me and got a hit in. Let’s end today on that note.” He straightened up and rolled his shoulders, barely having broken a sweat during your training. Meanwhile, you were gasping for air most of the time. “Start training in the gym to grow some stamina.” 

“And when the hell am I supposed to have time for that?” 

“You work 8-5, we train from 5:30-7, so you should use the gym from 7-8. You can run for about an hour, or do some sort of cardio.” He stated like it was completely natural. “How do you think everyone else in the world does it?” You crossed your arm, hating this all. 

“Most normal jobs just make you finish reports.” 

“I could fire you, if you’d like.” He added. You pondered a bit at the idea of finding a new job and a new apartment. You mentally realized that you were essentially fucked without your position here, working for Spider Man. 

“Fine, fine, relax.” You stretched your arms as you felt the sore muscles start to settle in. He gave you a rough first lesson, and basically beat you to a pulp at the same time. You glanced and he wasn’t even tired, not even sweating. This was just another day to him. 

And then it dawned on you. He didn’t have to be here, helping you. He did this because he wanted you to be able to protect yourself from your ex, to protect yourself in the world, and in his world. You mentally sighed in defeat as you looked back up at him. 

“By the way… thanks. For teaching me.” 

“Don’t thank me.” Is all he said as he walked away. You retreated to the women’s locker room as he went to the men’s and rinsed off, scrubbing the layers of sweat you’d accrued during that session and threw on some t-shirt and sweatpants. You exited and saw him waiting for you. 

You couldn’t help but gawk a bit. He was still a bit wet from rinsing off himself and wearing a clean tank top with basketball shorts. Quirking his brow at you, he narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue. You snapped out of the small daze and walked towards the door, as he followed. “Sorry, I just remembered. I called three escort services and they all refused.” 

“What do you mean they refused?” 

“They agreed until they asked who the service was for and when I told them, they said no thank you. One actually just hung up on me.” You glanced up at him and you saw that he was… pouting? 

“Great. So word got around, hmm?” He mumbled and now it was your turn to raise a brow in confusion. He huffed and looked away. “I have a… unhealthy sexual appetite, and one of the last times I used an escort service, I may have insulted the girl.” 

“May have? What did you say?” He was quiet, not wanting to say it out loud as you crossed your arms. “Tell me.” You rushed him and he blew a strand of hair from his face in defeat. 

“Ok, I called her an ugly duckling and said that I didn’t use an escort service for some vanilla chick with no ass.” He rushed out the sentence, but each word took you a second to process. Once you did, you smacked his arm and he jolted. “Hey!” 

“What’s wrong with you? Are you trying to make someone mad, or are you just naturally talented at being a grade A dick?” You barked and placed your hands on your hips, “No wonder you need someone to monitor you! You’re terrible with people.” You announced and he looked down at you with a bored expression, as if you were just talking about the weather. 

“Look, I’m not proud of it. I just get annoyed when I can’t get off.” He rolled his neck and started walking again like what he’d just said was no big deal. 

“You need a therapist.” 

“No, what I need is for you to find me a date.” He glanced at you sideways and you were awestruck. 

“How am I supposed to find you a nice woman to have as a date to this event if you scare away everyone you meet and ruin peoples lives?” 

“I did not ruin her life, she got the wrong idea. I wanted sex, she wanted a relationship.” Miguel’s lack of emotion was starting to really piss you off. 

“Whatever. If I find you someone and they can’t deal with you, then it’s not my fault.” You waved him off as you got into the elevator with him. He tilted his head while looking at you and after a moment of silence, finally spoke again. 

“You’ll be my date.” His voice was serious, but you couldn't help but laugh. When he wasn’t smiling or laughing with you, you started to worry. 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Dead serious.” “Why me?” You asked, shoulders slumping a bit in exaggeration to show how badly you did not want to go. 

“You’re technically single, you can handle my honesty, and you’re gorgeous. Problem solved.” He gave you a curt nod as the doors opened again and he stepped out. You followed hot on his heels. 

“Problem most definitely not solved.” 

“How?” 

“I won’t fuck you!” You threw your hands up, making him spin around to you and think for a second. His nose scrunched a bit as you shook your head. “I don’t have a dress for this either.” 

“Use the company card.” He waved that off and walked back towards your car. “I can find a fuck for the night if I want one. I don’t expect you to sleep with me, and I’m somewhat shocked you thought that was a stipulation.” He didn’t turn around, just continued and stood by your driver’s side door as he waited patiently for you to catch up. 

Meanwhile, you were practically bursting into flames from anger. “I have a headache.” 

“I’ll have a car waiting at 6pm on Saturday. Be early.” He spoke as you got into the car, shutting the door without a response. Getting fired started to sound like fun… 

Thank God for the weekend. You spent that Saturday lounging around your apartment, just decompressing from the hectic week you had. A few times, you thought you heard something coming from your window, and maybe your fire escape, but you also had noisy neighbors and lived in a big city, so you shrugged it off. Cleaning, listening to music, cooking, and doing some living room yoga was mainly what your day had consisted of. At night, you tossed and turned about the stupid event Miguel was now forcing you to go to.

No, forcing you to be his date to, and it made you restless. What the fuck were you going to do?

Sunday, you had accepted your fate with this whole gala-event thing and decided to go shopping. You'd buy a super expensive dress, and a bunch of jewelry to match, and you'd get Lyla to sign off for the business expense. Because fuck him.

It was time to treat yourself, and you did just that. Lunch by the garden and shopping on 5th was something you'd never get used to, but you loved it just the same.

Strolling into multiple different stores, you finally stood as someone walked up to you to help you.

"I'm looking for something that would make a man without a heart fall to his knees, and it's going to be a very big gala."

A Gala? Do you mean the one in a week?" The sales woman's eyes widened and you nodded, "Why don't we have you work with a designer and get something custom? Everything off the rack won't be nice enough, especially with your goal." She winked and you smiled, almost evilly. What was more expensive than a custom designer gown?

Matching diamond earrings and a necklace, that's what. And you bought both. What a perfect Sunday.

Nothing about the next day had been what you’d thought would happen when you woke up and maybe that was your karma from your shopping spree.

Sure, the work day was normal. Paperwork, phone calls, walk in on Miguel fucking the director of events, finish a few reports and then work out with Miguel. But a phone call as you had gotten into your car made your blood freeze. 

“Hey baby.” Eddie’s voice had you staring into the nothing in front of you, still parked as his smile could be heard on the other end. 

“H-Hi Eddie.” You barely spoke, only loud enough to answer him so he wouldn’t get mad. 

“I finally found your new phone number, isn’t that great? Now we can talk about you coming home.” The words he was saying made your stomach feel as if it might fall out of your ass. You grit your teeth as you listen, then feel your phone buzz against your ear. 

“Eddie, I’m getting a call on the other line, can I call you back later?” 

“You’re gonna hang up on me?” The irritation in his tone made tears form in your eyes, fear that you hadn’t felt in weeks rising from your toes and washing over you quickly. 

“It’s work, sweetie. Please.” You begged and the buzzing began again, knowing that you’d for sure be in trouble if you let it ring any longer. 

“Don’t make me wait for long.” He said and the line went dead, making you snap back into reality and quickly answer. 

“Hello-” 

“Why have you been sitting in your car this long?” Miguel’s voice was as monotone as ever and you tried to hide your sniffling, which was in vain. “And why do you sound like you’ve been crying?” 

“It’s nothing, I had to make a phone call.” Technically, you weren’t lying. “Which I have to call him back now.” 

“Him?” There was a question in his voice, and when you went to answer, he clicked his tongue. “That jackass called you?” Your silence was deafening as Miguel hummed in response to your lack of an answer. “You’ll stay with someone else tonight.” “What?” You gapped. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Are you forgetting where you work? He could have gone to terrible lengths to find you, and he might be willing to go to worse ones if we don’t figure this all out fast. There’s no time to be so trusting to fate.” He lectured and you huffed, as you were becoming aware that you did a lot with Miguel. 

“I can’t just expect someone to be able to house me for the night.” 

“I can. You’ll stay with Gwen.” He decided and you could barely even speak at his borderline official decree. 

He followed you back to the apartment building and tried as you both stepped into your apartment. As you packed a small bag, he checked all of your windows, your front door, and your fire escape. 

“Have you ever used your fire escape before?” His voice broke you out of the mental checklist you’d created to remember everything you needed to take to Gwen’s. 

“No, why?” You asked in response and he didn’t speak, making you pipe up. “Why?” 

“The ladder is down, but only up to your floor. The rest of the ones above you are still unused, and there’s definitely been someone here because there’s shoe marks all over your level.” His conclusion made your knees weak. Someone had been here. 

“Do you think he’s been here?” You asked, but MIguel shook his head. 

“It wasn’t him. These are dress shoes, italian. He doesn’t seem like the type to wear expensive clothing when going to stalk his ex, which means he has outside help.” When you moved to see where Miguel was, he was crouched down by the metal flooring of the fire escape. He sighed and continued to stare at the markings. “Pack for an extra day, I’ll have Hobie stay here the next two nights and see if he sees anything.” 

“He’ll be staying in my apartment?” You shrunk backwards, becoming overwhelmed. Something was wrong, very wrong. Everything that had happened since you’d moved to the city was strange, almost too planned. You thought backwards to meeting Miguel, working for him, your ex finding you, being forced to work in a position that Lyla obviously could have been handling. It was like everything around you was targeting you. 

“Is someone after me?” You blurted out, and Miguel’s eyes snapped to yours. The answer was clear as day without any words, and you stumbled backwards. “How long? How long have you known this?” You splayed out on the floor, breathing uneven as you felt your chest practically convulsing, and saw him stand up to his full height, like a lion staring down at a field mouse. 

“Get your bag.” His expression was unbothered, almost bored, as he walked back your cowering figure and to the door. “I’ll be waiting in the hall.” 

And there you sat, shivering in the realization that none of this was an accident or luck. 

This was all you. 

The night came and a black blanket covered the sky by the time you arrived at Gwen’s place, getting out and practically running into her waiting arms. Miguel whispered something to the driver, and they made a call. Gwen held you close as you told her about your past, about Eddie and your family. You grew up in a small town, fell in love with your high school sweetheart, got married, and the rest was history. Now, here you were, living in a world that was predetermined around you. You left that part out, since you didn’t have any actual answers yet. 

Gwen nodded and listened like the great friend she was, and told you it would all be ok. That was all you had wanted to hear. 

After some ramens, you moved to lay down on Gwen’s couch and soon fell to sleep to the sound of rain falling outside. Gwen closed her bedroom door and sighed, pulling out her phone. The call only rang once before it was picked up on the other end. 

“Is she asleep?” Miguel asked, obviously not in the mood for pleasantries. Then again, when was he ever?

“She’s asleep, but I think you need to tell her the truth, and preferably soon. She’s not dealing with any of this well, and she’s already been through a lot.” 

“I didn’t ask for the morality police, Gwen, I just need you to keep an eye out right now so that he can’t find her. Hobie and Pavitr are monitoring her apartment now, and once they’re done, I’m having Lyla scan for any bugs or plants.” He explained, “so just do your job and make sure she stays safe. If you need anything else, call Lego. He’ll be staying in a guest suite a few doors from you two in case something happens.” He concluded. “Are we clear?” 

“Crystal.” Gwen answered and waited until he hung up, tossing her phone on her bed and holding her face in her hands. 

Who were you?

Chapter 3 Chapter 5

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[writingthingsisdifficult]

It's been a long, long time

Steve Rogers x reader

Being on a mission, even with Captain America and Bucky Barnes, is a dangerous thing. One could become injured, and maybe even need someone to take care of oneself…

A/N: trying to get into writing again – it’s been a while (you might even say it’s been a long, long time XD ). Contains violence, swearing, bodily harm. Also pining and awkwardness. And a dose of idiots to lovers.

Obligatory English is not my first language.

Word count: 8893

***

The evening is freezing cold. There is promise of snow in the air, but none of us have the time to appreciate it. We have a job to do. Villains to stop, a world to save. You know, the usual. It should be a quick in and out again. Cap and Bucky are taking the helm on this, and I’m bringing up the rear today. 

The only thing heard in the cargo bay as we ready ourselves, check the gear one last time before they let us go, is the noise from the quinjet. Then almost total silence as the pilot switches into stealth mode. A buckle snaps into place, soft steps on the hard floor, a cough. It’s the quiet before the storm.

“You ready?”

“Lead the way, Cap,” I reply with a grin. If he only knew I would follow him through fire and back. 

“Buck?”

“Let’s go.”

The air rushes in as the hatch lowers, and we walk side by side towards the opening. The plan is to jump out once the plane is low enough and enter the base on the north side, then quietly and quickly take out the enemy before we wipe the system in the control room. I do believe there’s a possibility of fire too.

I glance up at Steve. He’s standing still, his face focused and serious, no doubt going over the plan in his head again. To think I would have the privilege of working with him, and Bucky, like this… I feel like I’ve proven myself to… well, myself. And I never really thought that he would be standing here, so close to me. There’s so much I want to say, to tell him, but words can wait until another day. Right now we have a task to do.

I stare into the darkness, watching the tiny lights in the distance grow larger and larger. Good thing I’ve never been afraid of heights. 

Steve jumps first, then Bucky, and soon I follow suit. It’s a short, but exhilarating trip through the air before I hit the ground, tucking my body to do a front flip, and landing on my feet. Then I carefully fold the small parachute and stuff it back into the pouch, sending a quiet thanks to Stark and his nanotech.

Before I allow myself to be proud of my landing, I take a moment to make sure both Steve and Bucky are ok. They look like they’re just out for an evening stroll.  Steve adjusts his shield and gestures silently towards the base. A wordless ‘let’s go’, waiting for confirmation from us. Bucky rolls his shoulders, I nod. The snow on the ground muffles the sound of our steps as we slip undetected into the base.

Peeking around the corner of the nearest building, a shed or storage of some sort, Steve holds up three fingers, then points to the left. Guards. Not unexpected. We all know what to do. Bucky pulls himself up onto the roof. I can’t see him in the dark, but I know he’s positioning himself for an attack.

“Think you can get them to come a bit closer?” Steve whispers, so close to my ear that I can feel the warmth of his breath. A slight tremble ripples over my body, and the hair on the nape of my neck rises. Jeez! That man is going to be the death of me.

“Of course,” I reply confidently, trying hard to not give away that I was two seconds from sinking to my knees in front of him. Holding my head high, I saunter into the lamplight. “Hey, boys. What’s a girl gotta do to have some fun around here?”

Three heads snap up, and after a moment of confusion, they charge, momentarily forgetting the guns in their hands. I whip out my batons and power up the charge, but before I can do anything, Bucky lands on top of the biggest guy. I can hear the snap of the guard’s leg breaking from here; it sends chills down my spine. He groans and mutters something inaudible, but before he can finish his sentence, Bucky’s fist connects with his nose.

Steve whips around the corner, taking the other guards by surprise – at least if we go by the yelling and cursing. And so it begins. I have to keep myself from laughing with the adrenaline and thrill. I almost feel lightheaded as my energy rushes through me. The middle of my baton strikes the soldier’s shin, sending him to the ground. I leap on him, shoving my knee squarely in his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. Then I bring a baton round, activating the switch to send a jolt of electricity through his neck. He collapses down into the snow and twitches for a few seconds.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Steve land a solid blow to the jaw of one of the guards, making him drop like a sack of potatoes. I grant myself a small smile. He returns it when he sees me.

The base isn’t fully manned, but there are still enough soldiers to make me break out a sweat. They’re not very disciplined, though, throwing punches this way and that. Finally a bullet whizzes past, hitting the wall behind us with a bang, but before the shooter can even think about pulling the trigger again, Steve’s shield hits both him and the gun. A previously unseen soldier makes his way to pick it up, but Bucky beats him to it, and knocks him down before throwing the shield back to Steve. The way his shoulders roll with the catch sends a shiver down my spine and heat to my ears. I can only imagine how that would look without the suit. 

“Get a grip! You’re working!” I mutter to myself, shaking my head to clear my mind. But that moment of distraction rewards me a hard blow to the jaw. I stumble backwards and flex it. Nothing’s broken, but it’s gonna leave me with one hell of a bruise.

The idiot thinks he got the upper hand and stalks toward me brandishing a knife. I wink at him and swing around to kick him in the chest. He staggers, and with a swift movement I am on his shoulders, my thighs firmly pressing on his throat. A garbled laugh slips from his lips, and then finally his knife clatters to the ground. The gurgling stops, and he topples over. I roll off him, get to my feet and dust myself off, satisfied with my work.

The fight has died down, the ground is littered with dead or dying men. We take a moment to get control over the situation, to make sure there’s no one lying in wait for us. The area is clear. All soldiers and officers are accounted for.

“Nice save,” Bucky smirks. “I was wondering if you needed help.”

Steve smiles warmly. “She doesn’t. Never have.”

The heat in my ears spreads over my cheeks. Thank my lucky stars that I’m already flushed from the fight. It would be so typical to be betrayed by my rushing blood now, after denying myself the truth for so long. I swallow the giggle in my chest, but I can’t stop the stupid grin. “It’s a team effort,” I huff slightly out of breath, ignoring the embarrassment. “Wouldn’t have survived without you two here. You good?”

Nodding, Bucky pats my shoulder. “Yep. Going to have a few bruises in the morning, but nothing I can’t handle. You?”

“Mhm.” I grin. “We made a good team out there.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, wiping blood from his split lip. “We do make a good team.” He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times to continue, but apparently changes his mind. Instead, he looks to Bucky, and then back at me. His eyes widen, dropping the snow he used to wipe his hands clean.  “Oh, Jesus! Your face! You’re bleeding!”

Wiping my brow, I wave him off. “It’s nothing. The other guy is worse off. Uh, what’s next?” I ask, shifting the conversation to something else, even though I know the plan inside and out. Now that the fight is over, exhaustion rolls over me. I had almost forgotten the toll a mission like this takes. 

“Easiest part left,” Bucky replies, pushing his hair from his face. “Disable the system, and then we get to play with flames.” He grins like a kid that’s been let loose in a candy store. 

“Piece of cake, that. Let’s go so I can get home at take a nice, hot shower. Get all this gunk off of me.” I smack my lips and wipe a lump of something thick and gloopy from my neck. “Ew!”

“According to the map provided by SHIELD, the control room is located right next to the main gate. Follow me. I’d like to get home and take a shower too.” Steve takes off with light steps.

They’re a bit faster than me; I can’t really get my feet to follow. Not that that’s anything unusual. I haven’t got the stamina that the serum gives, so I always follow at my own pace. 

Breathing hard and with adrenaline fading, I lean on the wall for a bit. I just need a small break. Unlike Cap, I can’t do this all day. At least not without a little pause to catch my breath. My uneven breath.

Something feels off. There’s static in my earpiece and a weird rumbling in my mind. I shake to clear my head, but it only makes me dizzy.

When I push off the wall, I wince. The right side of my torso feels warm, too warm, and it aches; that dull ache that leaves an ominous echo in my mind. Looking down, I realise my jacket is torn, and when I touch the fabric, my fingers come away dark and sticky. Fuck!

Glancing up, I see Cap and Bucky pushing on, already almost out of sight, fully focused on the mission. No need to distract them. I’ll deal. We’ll meet at the rendezvous point later.

The zipper sounds harsh in my ears, ripping through the air like a chainsaw, revealing the extent of my predicament. There’s a deep gash running from my bellybutton to my ribs on the right hand side. Double-fuck!

Cold air caresses the wound, snowflakes dance in the dim light. It burns. I have to blink to keep my focus as nausea creeps up, making me even dizzier. My tongue feels thick and fuzzy. No way I’m walking away from this. Rubbing my eyes, I get a final glimpse of Steve rounding the corner and then he’s out of sight. I’m hit with a sudden pang of regret: I never got to tell him… anything.

Time seems to slow down. I suck in air to steel myself, but it stops at the top of my chest. My breath is ragged and shallow. Blood drips from my lips, and I wipe my mouth with heavy movements. 

Everything is so cold. My body weighs so much, making my knees buckle and give out. It’s a strange sensation; feeling both heavy and so light at the same time. Stumbling forward, I suddenly lose my balance. Luckily I manage to catch myself with my hands so I don’t faceplant on the ground. The snow cushions my fall a bit, but the impact still sends a shock through my body, and by the feel of it, my palms are as good as shredded. It doesn’t take long before my clothes are soaked, and soon my bones are frozen through.

When I open my eyes, the bright white has turned a dark, rich crimson. I feel sick. I always knew there were risks being involved in my line of work, but this isn’t how I imagined I’d go.

Every breath is laboured, every movement slow. My lungs convulse and drops of blood and spit flies everywhere. Some hit my cheek, and I recoil from the slap.

I try to push myself up again, but it’s no more than a feeble attempt, resulting in a silent groan and even deeper scrapes on my hands.

Thirty seconds pass at most, but it feels like an eternity. As I sit on my knees and hands, quiet stinging from the cold and the cuts on my knuckles mixes with the throbbing in my side. If only I could have one wish it would be to say goodbye.

There’s a whooshing of something in my ears, my vision is fading. A nothingness seeps in, cinching it to pinpricks in front of me. To my left I vaguely register movement, but I’m too far gone to really notice. I just want the pain to stop. 

My vision goes completely, and shortly after so does my hearing, Gravity takes over, and my head hits the snow with a heavy thud.

There’s a commotion nearby. Or at least I think there is. I’m slipping in and out of consciousness as I’m bleeding out. It’s hard to get at firm grip on anything at all.

There is no light. No sounds. I’m wrapped in a cocoon, like I’m swaddled tightly in a warm blanket. Time is syrup. Everything is so hazy. I’m not sure where I am, or even who I am. Or if I am at all. Just let me drift off to sleep.

I’m jolted and shaken, and the amount of noise around me weighs me down; beeping and muffled rumbling and sounds I can’t place. People whispering. There’s a bird singing somewhere… I think. My ears are buzzing. I try to open my eyes, but the light is so bright it hurts. A soft whimper escapes me, but I can’t speak. The voices get louder, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. It doesn’t take long before darkness consumes me.

A flare of blazing, white light flashes in front of my eyes. My back arches as a sharp pain shoot through my body. The savage scream that erupts from my mouth lingers in my throat, scratching and itching, biting at my consciousness, but the waves I’m riding pull me under again, and I don’t have enough strength to fight them.

Somewhere above my head I hear a frantic “No, no, no…” followed by a quieter “Fix it. Please.” There’s pressure on my shoulders. It’s warm. Pleasant. My head rolls to the side, and it’s dark again.

Someone’s calling my name. The voice is far away, but through the cotton in my ears the urgency is clear. I cannot answer. I don’t know where it’s coming from.

My eyes are crusty when I try to open them. I blink, and blink again. The light is harsh and it does nothing good for the growing headache that throbs in my temples. The room is unfamiliar with its light green walls and – I squint – colourful, abstract paintings. The air smells sharp, a little bitter, but clean. It stings in my nose.

There is… an attempt to sit up, but I’m pinned down by wires and tubes and my own lack of strength. The failed attempt tugs on the needle in my hand. Jesus that hurts! “Fuck!” The word comes out as a coarse croak, setting off a coughing firework befitting an old man.

“Hey, hey, hey… relax.” Light touch on my forehead, and then Steve’s face comes into focus. He looks tired, drawn. But he’s smiling, so I try my best to smile too. My lip cracks. “You scared us. It looked pretty sketchy for a moment.” When he moves closer, he reveals another person standing behind his back. I have to strain my eyes to focus, but after a second I see Bucky, looking so worried I’m tempted to get up to comfort him. 

I begin to speak, but that only starts another coughing fit. 

“Don’t. You’ve been… out for a long time. Here.” Steve pours a glass of lukewarm water and holds it to my lips. 

I drink greedily; I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so delicious. And it washes away the rawness in my throat. “Thank you.” It’s a mere whisper, but at least I can communicate.

Bucky moves to my other side. “You look like shit!” He laughs at my glare. “Really, though, it’s good to have you back, doll. If not, Steve might’ve gone on a rampage…” He chuckles, ducking to avoid Steve’s swat, and picks up the red button. “Let’s call the nurse, hm? Let them know you’re not dead?”

The nurse shoos them out of the room, but she has to use stern words before they reluctantly leave with promises that they’ll be back. 

Feeling my forehead, she gives me a quick smile. “Right, honey. Let’s make sure you’re okay, alright?” She’s a kind woman with light hands, making the testing and prodding and questions almost bearable. She has to take my blood, she says, nodding towards my hands resting on top of the blanket. I lift my left arm, and she fastens a rubber band around it. The smell of the alcohol wipe sticks to my nose like a horse fly. The wet is cold, and when the needle punctures my skin, it’s almost as if I can hear a crisp pop.

I’m used to needles, have no problems with blood work, but when it’s time to change the bandage on my stomach, I squirm in my bed. It hurts, and now that I’m awake, I really just want to fix it myself. 

“Listen,” she starts, using the same stern voice she did on the boys, “I apologise for being harsh, but you died! You’ve been cut open several times, your intestines had to be shoved back in and rearranged, your body is battered and bruised, and I’m amazed you didn’t have any broken bones. By all logic your skull should be cracked. You’re lucky all you got from the resuscitation were a few fractured ribs. We had to keep you in an induced coma for a week just to let your body rest.”

Coma? What? I look from her to the window, a deep furrow between my eyes. 

She laughs, and continue dressing my wound. “It’s okay to be a bit dazed. You’ve been beat up pretty bad. But you’re gonna be as good as new when we’re done with you.”

The next few days goes by at a snail’s pace. Sure, I’ve got plenty of visitors. Nat and Clint, Wanda, even Director Fury swings by one time. Bucky is here most days. So is Steve. He doesn’t leave my side unless he’s told to by the staff. I’m eternally grateful that I don’t have to be alone all the time.

My room is filled with flowers and balloons and get well cards. But I hate being this helpless. Everything hurts; moving, breathing, sleeping… The nurses are doing their job, and it’s a fine job, but I want to go home. I want to sleep in a soft bed with warm covers, with a pair of pyjamas that leaves a bit more to the imagination than the flimsy gown they’ve dressed me in. I miss my TV, my music… I miss the freedom to do as I please. And I’m not afraid to tell the nurses exactly that. 

“We’ll see,” is the only answer I get.

So my days are filled with physical therapy that leaves me sweaty and annoyed – damn, I hate that walker – chatting with whoever is there when I’m feeling up for it, and dozing when I get too tired. Night and day all kinda blend together. It’s difficult to keep track of time.

Whispers draws me out of my slumber.

“You’ve gotta tell her, Steve.”

“I know. But I can’t spring it on her like this. Let her recover first.”

“Fine. But tell her! Or I will!”

“Okay, okay! Shh… you’re waking her!”

I half wonder what that was all about, but I drift off before I can think to ask, and when I wake up again I can’t really tell dreams from reality, so I say nothing.

It’s been a week and a half since I woke up in the hospital bed, and I’m about to start climbing the walls. When Doctor Lloyd comes by on her daily visit I moan about staying again. 

“About that,” she says with a bright smile, giving me hope. “I was thinking it’s about time you get some fresh air.”

“Yes!” I mutter under my breath. Finally! A grin creeps over my lips, and I’m half a second from swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. 

“However –“ She interrupts, stopping me with a look. Her face is serious, but kind. “You can’t be on your own. Not yet.” Her voice full of sympathy. “If I am to discharge you from our care, you need someone who can look after you at home.”

My face and heart falls. “But –“

“Listen. I’m going to be honest with you. You have been through four surgeries, and you have a very long, very tough road of recovery ahead of you. If you’re good, and follow my advice, you’re looking at at least twelve weeks before your body is back to relatively normal. And you need minimum two more weeks without any physical exertion at all. No housework, no lifting, no stretching. You will need help. With everything. Do you have anyone you can call?”

I grimace, fighting the sudden pressure behind my eyes. My head is filled with I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to! Of course. I live alone, and she knows it. But I can’t stand the thought of staying in the hospital for a moment longer. I discreetly rub a finger to the corner of my eye, concealing it as removing some gunk, but I know that if I’m not careful, everyone in this room will watch me ugly cry.

There’s beeping in her pocket. She fishes out a small device, nods and walks to the door. “When I return, I’m going to need an answer.”

“Fuck!” I groan loudly when the door clicks behind her.

“What’s wrong?” Steve and Bucky quickly get to their feet.

I glance over at them, blinking away the remaining tears before they can see. They retreated to the far corner to give me some privacy while the doctor talked. “I’m stuck here for the next… god knows how long.”

They cross the room. Steve frowns. “But I thought you were supposed to go home soon.”

“Yeah, so did I. Or… I hoped,” I reply with a sigh. “But they won’t release me unless I have someone who can take care of me while I recover.” I think for a bit, shoulders slumping forward. “My sister lives on the other side of the world, and she’s too busy with work and the kids. Besides, she’s already taking care of Mum. She can’t be on her own with the dementia and all. So she can’t just drop everything and fly out.” Not that I particularly want her to. We’re not that close. It would just be awkward.

“Oh.”

Bucky stares pointedly at Steve, nodding almost imperceptibly towards me, like he’s finishing an argument they’ve had before. 

Steve clears his throat stiffly. “How about, uh, how about you come live with me while you recover?”

My stomach flips, and I’m pretty sure it’s not because of the injury. Looking away, I swallow hard. “I don’t want to burden you with that responsibility.”

“You could never be a burden.”

“But it’s twelve weeks. And I’m gonna be useless for at least two of them.” I’m not gonna lie. Staying with Steve sounds like an absolute dream right now. But chances are it would eat me up to be that close to him for so long.

“Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it. Bucky and I were… discussing it earlier, since we figured you were going to need someone close by –“ He pauses. Rubs the back of his neck. “My apartment is big enough. Please, will you let me help you?”

Bucky smirks. “Yeah, please let him help you. Or else he might just go mad from the guilt.”

Guilt? Confused, I’m about to ask, but then I see Steve’s face, scrunched up like a puppy, mirroring Bucky’s, making me laugh. I shrink from the pain that follows. “Fine. You can help. Just don’t make me laugh.” I make a point of looking inconvenienced, but secretly, gratitude washes over me. If it has to be anyone, I’m glad it’s Steve.

“Good. That’s settled. Thank you.” Steve steps out of the room to make some arrangements, leaving me pondering the guilt comment.

“Bucky?” I shift a bit in the bed to look him in the eyes.

“Yes?” 

“What did you mean that he feels guilty?” 

He looks down for a moment, a grimace flits across his features. “Well, to tell you the truth, we both feel guilty. We just left you, didn’t even check if you were okay –“ He grips the metal railing on the bed, and I can see his face tighten.

“You asked,” I reply, patting his hand. “And I said I were. No reason for you to think otherwise.” They should absolutely not feel guilty. And the way I’m floating with relief and joy from getting out, there is no way I’m letting them feel bad!  

“Yeah, but we should have been with you. You died! You should’ve seen h…” He stops himself. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here, and you’re gonna be okay, and Steve is happy to take care of you.”

There it is again, a small flash of something. But what? Steve would be happy to… My chest tightens, it feels like I’m going to implode. Just as I’m about ask Bucky what that means, Steve comes back. 

“Sorry about that,” he smiles, sliding his phone back in his pocket. “Had to make a few phone calls. Suppose you need some things from your own apartment. Natasha said she’d be more than happy to go over and pack a suitcase for you. And Fury needed to know where to find you should something happen.”

I look at him, bask in his happy smile. Oh yeah, I’m definitely gonna struggle for the next weeks. “You sure it’s okay?” I have to ask, have to know that it’s not just because I was upset or because of guilt.

Bucky and Steve react in unison. Arched eyebrows, annoyed smiles, and exhaling through their noses. “Yes.” And that’s the end of the discussion. Don’t think I’d be able to argue more even if I wanted to. 

Three hours later I’m wheeled out of the front door and over to a waiting car. Bucky tosses a bag with the few possessions I had while admitted into the boot while Steve helps me into the back seat, making sure I’m comfortable before climbing in on the other side. 

Bucky gives us a mock salute, then winks at me. “I’ll see ya later. And please wait a week before you kill him, won’t you?” He shuts the door, and heads over to his motorbike.

“Let’s go,” Steve laughs, shaking his head and gesturing to the driver. “Let’s go home.”

Steve insists on carrying me from the car, and though I protest, I can’t deny that I’m enjoying it quite a bit more than I should. 

He sets me down on the kitchen counter and begins looking through the cupboards. “You hungry? Bet you want something other than hospital food. I haven’t been able to go shopping for a while, but there should be enough to fill you up for now. I’ll call in a few favours, so you don’t have to be alone, okay?”

I start swaying. My muscles aren’t strong enough to sit upright without support yet, but it’s fascinating to watch Steve being so natural in a domestic situation that I don’t say anything, just bite down the struggle. Until I almost wobble off the counter, and knock a small knife to the floor. 

“Oh shit! I didn’t think… you shouldn’t be sitting without a back rest. You’re probably exhausted too.” It isn’t a question at all. 

I wave him off. “Don’t worry about it. But I am tired. Maybe I should just take a teensy nap or something.” The sofa is looking very tempting right now.

“Of course. You sleep. I’ll make us something to eat and come wake you after it’s done.”

“You sure? I mean, I could help with –“

“No. No, you’re not helping me with anything,” he interrupts, dropping the bread so he can pick me up. 

I feel like I don’t weigh a thing, floating through the air, securely enveloped by strong arms. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to feeling his arms around me, and I tuck it away in my mind to remember a rainy day. I almost forget to protest when he passes the sofa, but he just laughs. The rumble from his chest vibrates through me, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stay appropriate.

He nudges the door to the bedroom open with his foot and walks sideways through. When he lets go of me, I sink into the mattress. It feels like a cloud after the hospital bed. Steve glances around the room. “Sorry about the mess. I didn’t have the time to do anything special in here. Just let me put away the clothes –“ He quickly scrunches up a couple of t-shirts and shoves them into a hamper in the corner.

“What, is this… Is this your room? But… where are you gonna – don’t tell me you’re gonna sleep on the sofa! Nope!” It’s out of the question to kick him out of his own bed, and I wriggle to get out of it again.

“Relax.” He looks at me and smiles sheepishly, lifting my leg up again and tucking the blanket tightly around me. “That isn’t my bed. Well, technically it is, but that’s besides the point. It’s not the one I sleep on. Never really gotten used to a normal, civilian mattress, so I usually sleep on a field cot… And I was thinking… So I can be close by in case you need anything, I’ll just sleep on that.” He points to the floor on the other side of the bed. Tucked into the other corner is a mattress, neatly done with folded sheets and everything.

I raise an eyebrow and tilt my head a little bit. “This is awfully well planned out, Captain, considering we made this deal just today. I didn’t even know I would be released until this morning…” I try to sound tough and serious, but I can’t quite hide the twinkle in my voice. Trust Steve to have a plan. Even for this.

He actually blushes, and looks away as he answers. “Uh, well, you see… Bucky – and I – thought it might come to something like this, so I got it a couple of days ago. Besides, I’ve been meaning to get a proper bed for ages. And now I had a good reason.”

“You’re a couple of sneaks, the both of you,” I grin. My chest leaps with the thought of him going through all that hassle just in case I needed a place to stay. “But thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says gruffly. He clicks off the light and glances over his shoulder. “I’ll leave it ajar so I hear you if you need anything.”

I haven’t slept this well in… forever, I think. The bed is perfect, and there’s just something about the room; the light coming from under the door, the scent, whatever it is, that makes me feel safe. 

Steve wakes me a little while later, a tray in hand. “Figured you wanted to be comfortable while eating. And when you’re done, you can sleep a bit more. It’ll be good for you.”

It’s dark when I wake up again. My head hurts, and my mouth is bone dry. A glass of water. That’s what I need. The kitchen isn’t that far, so I roll over on my side and slide my feet to the floor. But I can’t seem to get my abs to follow instructions. Instead I sorta hang over the edge like a slug, unable to get up or down. “Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter, wriggling to get into a better position. But the more I try, the more I twist, and the strain stabs and stings my side.

“What’s going on?” Steve’s voice is groggy with sleep. He sits up so I can see his head over the edge of the bed. Even upside down it looks confused.

“I just wanted to get a glass of water.”

“And you decided that you’d do that yourself. On the first night out of hospital, despite the doctor’s orders to not do anything physical at all?”

I give him my best puppy eyes. “Yes?”

“What am I going to do with you?” he sighs, helping me back under the covers. After propping me up with pillows and checking on my side to make sure nothing is ripped, he fetches a glass of water. When he comes back, he gives me an exasperated smirk. “Next time, just wake me, okay?”

My stomach drops when I see how tired he looks. “I’m sorry,” I start, feeling like this whole situation could have been avoided if only I had paid more attention.

He cuts me off. “Don’t. You don’t have anything to apologise for.”

“Sor–“

He shuts me up with a finger on my lips and a soft shh. “Go back to sleep. You need the rest.”

***

“I think I’ll manage from here,” I say when I’m safely down on the little chair in front of the sink. We decided on using the office chair, since that can spin, and it has wheels, so it’s easier for me to access what I need around the bathroom. Steve has already brought me washcloths, towels and soap, and I’ll spare him the horror of giving me a sponge bath, since I’m not ready for a shower just yet.

“If you’re sure,” he replies. “I’ll be right here if you need me,” he adds when he closes the door.

Washing away the hospital smell that sticks to my face feels amazing. The water is warm, and the cloth is soft. I sigh with contentment as I let it linger over my eyes. 

I pat my face dry and move on to get out of the sweater I’m wearing. Ow! Each time I try to lift my arms and pull it over my head, my stitches sting. After three attempts and lots of quiet swearing, I’m stuck. “Um, Steve?” I call, trying to sound calm, but the burn in my side is concerning. “A little help, please?”

From my limited vision through the fabric I see his head in the mirror, poking through the door, looking increasingly worried, but with a crooked smile on his lips. “Jeez. How did you do that. Here.” He averts his eyes like the perfect gentleman he is when he frees me from my sweater, but he tuts at my stupidity and refusal to do as the doctor instructed. 

I hesitate for a second. “Um... think you can help me unhook my bra too?”

With minimal fumbling, he does as I ask, and before I can say anything else, he wrings a wet cloth and starts washing my back for me. I can’t do anything but close my eyes and breathe as he quietly fusses over my cuts and bruises, before leaving alone to finish cleaning myself. When he returns ten minutes later, I’ve turned into a towel burrito. 

“I figured you needed something to wear, and the clothes Natasha packed didn’t look very comfortable.” He looks down on his hands and then back at me; he’s holding an oversized zipper hoodie and sweatpants.

“Thanks. Those will do.” The fabric is soft, like feathers against my skin. “I’ll be right out.”

“Good,” he replies and leaves me alone again.

A couple of minutes and a good deal of fumbling later, I’ve managed to get into the sweater. Sure, it took time, and sure it was a bit painful, but over all I’m happy with my effort. But it’s another situation altogether with the sweatpants. I just can’t lift my feet high enough to step into them while holding them, and when I drop them to the floor, I can step into them, but I can’t bend down to pull them up. Shit.

Wrapping the towel around my waist, I call for Steve again. “Help?” I squeak, gesturing to the grey bundle on the floor, ignoring the rising heat on my neck. I hadn’t thought of this; that I actually need help getting dressed. For some reason I’m not that embarrassed, really, more disappointed that I have to be that kind of a burden. If we’re going to make this work, I can’t let my pride get in the way.

“Oh.” He watches me intently from the doorway.

“Yeah.” I give him a flat smile. “I think I can get out of my clothes on my own. At least mostly,” I add when I notice the arched eyebrow and crooked smile on his face. “The zipper hoodie works, so that’s good. But… this movement,” I mime pulling up the sweatpants, “hurts. I can’t bend properly, so…”

“It’s what I’m here for,” he says, before quickly adding “to help.” He kneels in front of me and guides first one, then the other foot into the sweatpants, while I hang onto his shoulders for dear life, and he looks away while pulling them up. Only when they’re safely tied and hanging, do I drop the towel. 

I want to thank him, but no sounds come when I open my mouth. So I settle on a smile and a nod, though that is wildly insufficient.

“Sit,” he orders, but his voice is mild, and once I’m down again, he turns the chair around so my back is towards the sink. 

You would think that Steve has done all this before. He knows precisely what he needs to do, and he’s the gentlest being on the earth in this moment, tenderly lowering my head into the sink and making sure I’m comfortable and that the chair doesn’t roll away, all while silently asking me if it’s okay.

“Mhm.” I close my eyes, savouring the sensation of warm, running water over my scalp. Then he begins to massage, and I melt into the chair. An obscene noise rises in my throat, but I swallow thickly, settling for a quiet hum instead. I can get used to this.

The last of the hospital sweat swirls down the drain, replaced by the clean smell of shampoo. That it’s Steve doing it is just icing on the cake. Now, if just that stupid sting in my side could disappear too, my life would be perfect.

With my hair wrapped in a new towel, he picks me up and carries me to the living room. I’m pretty sure I could walk if I wanted, but what’s life without a little exploitation of the situation?

It quickly becomes a routine, him helping me with the things I can’t do, carrying me from room to room. Picking stuff up from the floor when I drop it, making food when I’m hungry… And my heart swells for every kind gesture. I feel like I’m about to explode.

My strength and pain fluctuate over the weeks. Some days I’m ready to take on the world, and Steve has to remind me that I still have a long way to go, others I can hardly get out of bed, but my recovery is definitely moving forward. Before long I can even sit up without support for more than a couple of minutes at a time.

***

The tape tugs on my skin, and I’m glad I only have to change the bandage every other day. I hiss as I pull on it, but I just can’t get myself to rip it off quickly today. Taking a deep breath, I change my grip and try again, but no luck.

“You decent?” Steve’s voice floats through the door, and moments later, his head pops in.

“Yeah,” I answer, not even looking up to see that he’s already in the room.

He gently pushes my hands out of the way. “Let me,” he says, soothing over the red skin where I’ve already managed to remove the tape. His eyes lock with mine, and he gives me a quick smile. “I’ll count to three, then pull, okay?”

I nod and breathe in, then out again. 

“One, two –“ He pulls. 

I let out a loud yelp. “Oh, you fucker!” 

“There you go. Good girl.”

My mind blanks. Did he really…? I hold my breath for a few seconds in fear of making some sound I’ll regret later. Through my haze I barely recognise that the new bandage is already on, and he’s pulling down my sweater. Just before he lets go, his fingers lightly brush over my skin, making my heart flutter like a hummingbird. I’m gonna need a month to recover after this.

He moves to pick me up again, but I want to do it myself. No, I need to do it myself. “I can walk.” I think. My legs suddenly feel so very weak, and when I try to get up, I just can’t.

Instead of commenting, he offers his arm, and practically pulls me to my feet while supporting my back. He’s right there when I take the first, unsteady steps on my own since the fight. I both miss the walker I had in the hospital and don’t, but I know that if I need to, I can always grab onto Steve. Or in the worst case, he’ll lift me up and carry me into the living room.

“So. What do you want to do today?” he asks as we slowly make our way towards the sofa.

“I don’t know. Not much I can do.” I’m not used to sitting still. “How about we just watch TV for now – well, I can watch, if you have other things you want to do.” Please stay with me.

“No, that sounds good.” He brings out a small notebook and a pen. “I have a lot of catching up to do. What do you wanna watch?”

Later that evening, Bucky comes traipsing in with his hands so full of bags that they’re stacked all the way to his elbows. “Food delivery,” he announces loudly, dropping the bags on the floor for Steve to put away. “How’s my favourite patient?” he grins, turning to me.

“Can’t complain. Steve’s being an angel nurse.”

“Good, good.” He’s already on his way out again. “I slipped in a chocolate for you in case you can’t take it anymore,” he adds, pointing to Steve with an exaggerated grimace.

“Thanks. You’re not staying?”

“Nah. Got a mission coming up. And Steve, remember: I’m not your personal DoorDasher.”

Steve laughs and follows him to the door. They remain standing, talking for a bit – whispering so I can’t hear them, but there’s an urgency to underneath their voices. I wonder if Steve was supposed to go on this mission too. A pang of guilt punches me in the gut. Bucky better come back in one piece.

“Be safe,” I say, swallowing hard.

“Don’t worry about me,” he replies and closes the door behind him. Steve busies himself with the groceries.

“What kind of mission?” I ask when he finally sits down again.

“Huh?”

I frown. “Bucky. What was the mission?”

“Oh, didn’t ask. Sorry.”

Despite being so curious that I’m about to burst, I don’t ask again. I’m not privy to all communication between SHIELD and their agents.

***

Steve is gone. He’s been gone for a couple of hours. Think he had to run to the store or something, but I couldn’t go with him. Which is okay, I guess. So I’m lying on the sofa, tapping my fingers, trying to count to 500 backwards. It’s something to do, to keep the boredom at bay. Every day feels like the days I stayed with my grandparents when I was little. You know; constantly a little bored, because you don’t have access to all your toys? But also excited, because you’re on holiday and it’s kinda new and regular routines don’t apply? Quiet days passing slowly, but pleasantly. There’s a kind sort of nostalgia to the whole thing.

Here I don’t have my books or stuff, and though I can always go get some, it’s not the same, because there’s nothing like that feeling of just browsing, picking up the one that piques your interest at that moment… I do have my music, though. It’s on my phone, and that is wonderful. But I miss my record player, and listening to digital music through headphones doesn’t quite give the same experience. On the other hand: I get to spend every day with Steve, and now that I don’t fall asleep from exhaustion every hour, I can actually enjoy it.

When Steve comes back, carrying bags and looking so deliciously domestic that I can’t do anything but sink into the sofa to hide my reaction, I breathe a sigh of relief. Weirdly enough, being alone has started to make me uneasy.

“Welcome home,” I splutter, trying to conceal the sound as a yawn. Outside the sun is setting, sending long, peachy rays that spreads over the walls. If I’m lucky, the colour in my face can be explained away. Not sure he’s fooled.

He gives me a wide smile and brings me a bottle of soda. “Thanks. What do you say we order dinner today? I couldn’t decide what I wanted when I was at the shop, so I just picked something. And now I don’t really feel like making lasagna at all.”

“I’m always up for takeaway. Did you have anything in mind?”

“How about…” he thinks for a bit. “Thai? Form that restaurant down by the square?”

“Absolutely!” He asked me one of the first days what my favourite food was, and I just said the first thing that popped into my head, being too preoccupied with the sight of his shirt straining over his shoulders, but it’s sweet of him to remember. And I do really like Thai food, so it’s a win-win.

Two hours later we’re both full, content, and comfortably seated in the sofa. We’ve made it a habit for me to lie with my head in his lap. That way I can rest, and I don’t have to twist or move in case I get tired. If this is the only good thing that comes from this situation, I will be happy.

He absentmindedly strokes my hair, watching the clouds floating by outside the window. “You wanna watch a movie today?”

“Sure.” I’d go to the end of the world with him if he asked me. I’m not ashamed to admit it. “What do you want to watch?”

“So, I’ve been meaning to… You know I’ve got my list – gotta try to update myself – ”

“Get with the times,” I offer with a smirk, looking up into his face.

“So to speak. There’s a lot of things I missed, you know, when… anyways, I thought maybe we could watch Fellowship of the Ring? I’ve heard a lot of good things about it, and it’s been on my list for a while, ‘cause I really liked the books.”

“I’d love to. It’s one of my favourites.” The prospect of watching Lord of the Rings with Steve makes me warm and fuzzy. 

Somewhere around Weathertop my head starts feeling heavier, and before Arwen has breathed out “What’s this, a ranger caught off his guard?” sleep overtakes me. 

It’s dark outside when I wake up. The light from the tv screen is too bright, illuminating Steve’s peaceful face when I look up. He’s deeply entrenched in what I recognise as scenes from Helm’s Deep, a serene smile on his face. His hand rests on my waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I feel an intense urge to reach up and kiss him, but I don’t. Instead, I hum and stretch and rub my eyes.

He looks down. “Hey.” It’s merely a breath. “I didn’t want to wake you up, you looked so comfortable.”

You have no idea. “How many orcs has Gimli killed yet?” I want to tell him, I should tell him. But I don’t know how. And definitely not now. Not when I’m like this. I don’t want to come across as a smitten patient who has a crush on her carer. Not when this is so much more. Damn! I’m in too deep. This is going to be torture! 

Steve chuckles and glances up at the tv again. “Seventeen?”

There is something in his eyes, I can’t decipher it, and instead of trying, I shift my attention back to the film, muttering “Hado i philinn,” simultaneously  with Aragorn, and lose myself in Middle Earth for a couple of hours.

***

The brush glides through my hair, followed by a gentle hand. Careful movements, every one calculated to do the least amount of damage. It’s a secret dance that we’ve been rehearsing for the last couple of weeks, and I’m sad to see it end. 

On the surface, my wound has healed. I can move a lot easier, stretch my torso, twist around. Yes, I still get tired quickly, and I still can’t stand for long amounts of time, but it’s time I take over my own bedtime routine.

I close my eyes, savour his touch, his fingers in my hair… It’s more than I had ever dreamt of. As I exhale, a tiny whimper follows. Steve stops immediately. Oh no!

He lets go and lean down to get a look at my face. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Was it too rough?”

Shit. How do I explain away this one? I can’t. I shake my head and take a deep breath. Inside me every emotion swirls together like a tempest. “No, Steve. You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, you do everything right. The thing is…” I pause, watching his face fall.

“Oh.” He gets to his feet and starts to walk away, still with the brush in his hand. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

Not thinking, I reach for his hand. I try to pull him back, but I’m not strong enough yet. The movement shoots daggers through my stomach, but it’s easy to ignore it.  “Wait.” The word is small and weak, but important. “Let me finish, please.” Then you can leave, if you need to, I add in my head.

He turns back, watching me with wary eyes. 

I weigh my words. If I’m gonna do this, I’m gonna do this right. “The thing is…” I repeat, then clam up again. Come on! You can do this! I clear my throat. “Steve… I love you.”

His jaw drops, as does the hairbrush. It clatters to the floor, but I don’t think he notices. Blinking stupidly, he just stands there like an idiot. If I weren’t so nervous, I’d laugh.

“I have for a long time,” I continue quickly, afraid I’m gonna lose my momentum. “But I was afraid to say something, because I don’t want you to think I’m crushing because you’re kind to me and take care of me, and I don’t want to ruin our friendship, or the team. I didn’t want to make it awkward, but now that I’ve spent so long with you, I just forgot for a moment, that I’m supposed to be normal, that we’re not…” I trail off, want to finish with together, but I can’t bring myself to it. Is he reacting? His face tells me nothing. Crap. I’ve fucked it up. “Steve, say something? Please?”

He shakes his head. “Uh. Sorry. I just… I’m…” A gentle smile. “I was going insane, trying to figure out how to tell you – how you make me feel. That I haven’t felt like this since I don’t remember when… And then you beat me to it. I could kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

“Uh-huh.” This time it’s my turn to blink stupidly, but it takes me less time to recover. “Yes. Please!” 

I stretch up to meet him halfway, ignoring the doctor’s orders, and throw my arms around him. The distance between us closes and we pause, just for a moment, to drink in the sensation. Both of us smile into the kiss as we melt together, electricity sparking between us, leaping over the skin, tingling in the hottest, darkest depths of our minds. 

When he finally draws back, my breath is heavy. I’m not quite sure where I am, but I’m definitely not complaining. Instead, I pull him back to me, and he follows, hungrily, to kiss me again.

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High Junior Year Ep 1

We're SO Back

School is back in session y’all!!!!

Fantasy High has returned to us after a long break and I am thrilled to come out of my recapping hiatus to bring back the Report Card for Junior Year! You know I could let my favorite chaotic high schoolers go un-analyzed! 

This episode wastes no time in getting started so neither will I. Brennan makes what I think is a very strong narrative choice by starting us in media res at the end of a classic Bad Kids adventure. It is the summer between Sophomore and Junior Year and the party has spent the last four months hot on the trail of the dreaded Night Yorb.

We catch up to our Intrepid Heroes in the Red Waste and they’re trying to catch up to the Night Yorb which is a big, eldritch, manta ray like monster who threatens to plunge the entire world into darkness, creating a very slow (but still effective!) apocalypse! The Night Yorb is flanked by its groupies, made up of members of the many cults dedicated to it (collectively known as “Yorbies”).

As I said, the Bad Kids are hot on its trail, in (and on) the Hangvan. Gorgug (who has been leaning more into his Artificer vibes lately) has outfitted the top of the Hangvan with a solar lasso that can be used to capture and reel in the Night Yorb so that Fig and Adaine can defeat it with a magical sigil. I’m gonna quickly run down where everyone is and what they’re doing:

Adaine and Fig are both standing on top of the Hangvan in order to spring the sigil when the time comes. Adaine is also joined by Boggy and a new addition, Moggy the Doggy (aka, Mordekainen’s Faithful Hound), which is a very round, very cute, very invisible Pomeranian looking dog. 

Gorgug is also up top with them because he’s manning the solar lasso. 

Fabian is inside the Hangvan along with Baby (aka Wretchrot, aka Fig’s screeching blood imp who has no mechanical benefit unless she takes another level of Warlock as Brenan keeping reminding us) and Ecaf, a mirror with a sultry voice that Fabian is *heavily* flirting with, much to everyone’s discomfort. It’s tres Narcissus. (Also, ha, Face backwards. I see you Brennan).

Kristen is in the back with Fabian and Riz is driving, even though he is WAY too small to effectively be driving a Gorgug sized van. 

The Hangman–Fabian’s trusty motorcycle/hellhound–is out in front of the Hangvan.

Also Squeem is on the roof with the others! Beloved, fan favorite Squeem!

Yeah, so this episode does a thing of pretending like we’re jumping into the last episode of an arc that we’ve seen every episode of and introducing characters in a very Sam Reich, “He’s been there this whole time” way even though it’s their first appearance. I think it’s very funny and it reminds me of that Community episode where they’re all flashing back to episodes that never aired. But anyway, I mention this so that if I mention a name and you’re like “Whomst?” it’s probably just a bit, you’re not forgetting a major character.

Anyway, we’re joining this chase already in progress which means our kids are hurt and down spell slots but their opponents are as well. The distribution is pretty uneven–Adaine is way less hurt than Fabian and Kristen for instance, which honestly checks out (curious how they decided on that though). 

Because this episode is just one big battle sequence for the most part, I’m going to follow the precedent I set in the recaps for The Seven and just give the highlights in bullets and then do an analysis on where all the Bad Kids are right now at the end:

Murph comes in hot, using his first action of the new season to shoot his gun and doing 30 points of damage with a 27 to hit. New year, new Murph! 

Siobhan invokes the corn cuties debacle from fight one and all the falling off the tables that happened. Clearly, a bit of Adaine’s oracle energy is rubbing off on her because the next thing that happens in that Fabian decides to jump on top of the Hangvan to cast Faerie Fire on the Night Yorb (which has shrouded itself in magical darkness), rolls the first Nat 1 of the season, absolutely eats it, and gets run over by Riz–narrowly avoiding going down. He’s ultimately fine–The Hangman comes and picks him up–but it’s not a very auspicious star from Master Fabian. 

Emily and Murph have a cute moment of womping Brennan back to back by using Silvery Barbs to make him reroll two attacks on the Hangvan–one of which is a crit–and then giving each other the advantage on the next roll.

Kristen is a real pillar in this encounter–holding up the Circle of Power spell that allows her friends to ignore big chunks of damage that absolutely would have dropped them. But throughout the entire fight, her patron goddess, Cassandra, keeps trying to talk to her and Kristen keeps leaving her on read–we’ll get more into that in a bit. 

Adaine comes in clutch with a Nat 1 portent roll to stop the NIght Yorb from resisting Gorgug’s attempt to reel it in further. Truly, the best time to roll a Nat 1 in this game. Divination Wizards are awesome!

We learn that “Don’t Speak of the Night Yorb” is more than just a silly bit when Fig realizes that saying its name makes it heal up which isn’t great because they’ve been *very* cavalier about invoking its name. 

Squeem gets a big emotional goodbye with Gorgug on top of the Hangvan, heroically leaps off to fend off some Yorbies…and then rolls a 2 and totally faceplants. No! Squeem! Beloved fan favorite Squeem! They already had to revivify you once! 

On the Night Yorb’s turn, Brennan does an attack and shakes so many dice that it sounds like maracas. It’s 61 points of damage and squishy wizard Adaine goes down, but everyone else stays up–large in part due to Kristen’s aforementioned Circle of Power. (Siobhan, describing how bad her saving rolls were zings two separate friends saying, “It was Fabian level nasty. I fucking Murph’d it.”)

Luckily, Fig and Gorgug are up on the roof with Adaine so she does not go sliding off the van when she goes down. They catch her before she can fall. 

At this point the Van has sustained a lot of damage so Murph reminds the teacher that they have homework/Brennan that they have to roll for a mishap. That turns out to be the breaks blowing out. Now, all the Van can do is accelerate! It’s just like the movie Speed!

Two more characters who we totally know and have been here this whole time show up to help–Balthazar and Duggan McCann! A cool grizzled veteran and a centaur cowboy. Riz immediately starts doing cool guy banter with them because he’s somehow convinced them that he’s cool (which he is for the record, just in a completely different way lol). Unfortch, Baz almost right away gets eaten by the NIght Yorb. Who’s gonna take care of his litter (?) of parrots?????

 At this point in the fight, everyone gets a ping on their crystals, reminding them that school starts in three days. This stresses everyone out more than the fight that they’re currently in. 

Fig brings up Adaine with a Healing Word but she immediately has to do Wis save with the rest of the party. She and Fabian fail, but once again Fabian is saved by fear negating effects of his dad’s eyepatch. So Adaine starts to have a panic attack about the fact that she’s fighting the Night Yorb while standing on the roof of a moving vehicle which, real talk, very normal and valid reaction. In fact, probably concerning that she’s reached a point in her life where that *isn’t* the default reaction. 

The Hangvan is coming up on a jump it’ll have to make to continue following the Night Yorb (and it can’t even try to stop because the brakes are cut). Riz fails the roll which means that the van is probably going to fall on its side. Adding insult to injury, a pillar of rock falls and is going to crash into the van, doing even more major damage. 

Fig watches this, and almost dissociates, feeling the weight of the entire summer taken from them to do this quest. Feeling so so tired. Feeling the fact that even if they win, they’re just gonna have to go back to school and adventure some more. A piece of magic she’s been holding inside of for a long time flickers and she hears an enticing voice whisper in her ears. “If you would take me, you know what you would save.” She smells a sour, curdled scent and she knows that if she says yes, she can save her friends. Maybe there’s another way, but she just wants this to be over. “I’m yours,” Fig says. 

There’s a flash of “lemony, yellow, creamy” light (hmmmm) and the rock stops falling. The Hangvan starts righting itself.

And then there’s a sick gurgle from Fig’s stomach. 

Uh-oh, gang. 

For those of you who are new to these recaps, every week, I give one PC Detention and put one on the Honor Roll for their in-game actions. We’re starting off hot this semester with:

Detention 

Kristen Applebees for Being a BAD Friend to Cassandra 

Like, OK. Faith is complicated. Kristen’s relationship with religion is complicated. Being a cleric is complicated. But notice that I didn’t say being a bad *cleric*. I said being a bad *friend*. To be clear, she’s also being a bad cleric, and I’ll talk about that later. But having understandably conflicted views on religion doesn’t make sliding in your Fantasy Airpods while the being who is essentially a lonely teen girl and who is keeping you and all your friends alive tries to talk to you NOT seem like a giant dick move. Come on girl, get it together. 

Honor Roll

Brennan Lee Mulligan for Being a Great DM!

I realized as I was writing this that I’ve given Brennan Detention but never Honor Roll so he’s getting it today. It feels so good to have him back in the dome with the kids and he drew me back into the world, right away. I’m so psyched that we have a full season of this ahead of us! 

CHARACTER CHECK-INS

Like I said earlier, because this is the first episode back, I want to really quickly check in with all of the Bad Kids and where they are, character-wise. I’m going to do this roughly from least concerning to me to most concerning to me. 

-Adaine: Adaine seems like she’s living her best life. She has her frog! She has her dog! Her character art is so much more chill and she’s coming into her own. This season, I’m hoping we get to see more of her relationship with her sister (yes, I’m a predictable bitch. Sue me) and with Zayn (who is also living at Mordred in her tower) who I think has a lot of potential to be an interesting supporting character with more spotlight. But yeah, go Adaine! 

-Gorgug: Gorgug is making his parents proud (not that they ever weren’t) by taking another artificer level. He’s not a 7/3 Barb/Art split. I love that he’s gone from calling himself dumb to taking on this very technical skill. He also apparently has a homunculus? Fascinated to see what that looks like. 

-Riz: Now that his big investigation is over and he knows his dad is a cool secret agent, Riz has switched his subclass from Inquisitor to Arcane Trickster which means he’s got tons of gadgets and that he’s a ring guy now. Love that for him. He’s very much not a chill person though so I’m very curious to know what the next thing he’ll latch onto is. He the kind of guy who always need something going on, you know? 

-Fabian: Fabian is a fancy, dance boy now (6/4 Fighter/Bard)! But that doesn’t mean he’s any less athletic. I mean, have you ever seen a male ballerina? He still is, however, a total disaster. And I mean that affectionately. I mean, his current love interest (?) is a mirror that is showing a fuzzy reflection of his own face. My guy, what are you doing? Although I will say, idk if that’s more or less toxic than him dating Aelwyn. 

-Kristen: Kristen. GIRL. 

OK, so first of all. There is nothing inherently wrong with getting super jacked and like, respect. But in this context it feels like a red flag. Like the kind of thing you do because you’re on the rocks with your girlfriend or if you’ve recently broken up. I will be *very* interested to know what Tracker is up to as she’d not mentioned in this episode. Last we heard, she was out doing cleric stuff for the Moon Goddess, right? Long distance can be hell on a relationship. (Also, idk how seriously we’re supposed to take this but Ally mentioned the one shot it happened in in this episode so Kristen was also totally trying to flirt with a college girl in that college visit oneshot. Brennan shut it down pretty quick, but it very much did happen). 

Also, speaking of cleric stuff, Cass. I feel SO bad for Cass. Like, a god isn’t owed followers, but Kristen chose that role. She CHOSE it. This isn’t like a Helio situation. Cass wasn’t pushy. She specifically says in this episode that she doesn’t want to be pushy. Hell, she says in the episode where she’s introduced that if people don’t want her around she’ll go away. But Kristen chose to be her follower, knowing what the implications of being the sole follower of a goddess is. Cass is made in her image. That’s how deeply entwined they are. Her goddess is made in her image. In The Seven, we learn that Ost’s god hasn’t talked to anyone in years. Kristen has Cass coming in like a mom offering snacks mid battle and Kristen is leaving her on read! It’s honestly kinda hard to watch her be so blithely dismissive of someone so dependent on her even though it’s played off as kind of a joke. I felt like I was watching a loyal puppy get kicked every time they interacted. 

And like, I said this before, Cassandra is made in Kristen’s image. But specifically, she looks like Sophomore year Kristen. Still all skinny and still in her tie-die shirt and shorts. There is a definite vibe of almost wanting to kill the part of yourself that embarasses you, you know? It feels like she's being mean to Cass but also to herself. 

Also, mechanically speaking, it’s wild to be just ignoring the person you’re getting your powers from like this. Like, this is real Wizard behavior. You don’t have to answer to anyone if you studied for your magic but you absolutely do as a cleric. Does Kristen even want to be a cleric? It honestly doesn’t seem like it. She’s shown a pattern of behavior of chafing at every god put in her path, even the ones she literally made up. I thought Cass might be the end of her searching, but we’re right back on the Merry Go Round. The party absolutely needs a healer though so idk how she deals with that. 

I saw the snipped clip of Ally’s interview about Kristen’s arc this season involving what happens when chaos stops being cute, and I can def see seeds being planted. Fascinated to see how they explore that because this feels like a real ticking time bomb of a situation. 

Oh also, her Dex went DOWN????? GIRL!

Fig: I had a lot more to say about Kristen but Fig has to be last on the list for making a deal with a literal devil lol. Like, classic Fig though, right? This WOULD happen. Emily talked about potentially retiring Fig and getting reeled in by some enticing plot hook from Brennan and it feels like we might be about to find out what that is. I won’t speculate on it too much right now because we’re presumably about to find out but there were a LOT of yogurt themed adjectives when that magic activated which has me very split on whether this is about to be deeply concerning or deeply silly. Or both! It could be both! 

Random Thoughts

I LOVE that we have a proper theme song now. It feels so fitting and I love the opening art and it’s all so cool. The show’s so profesh now!

Also, shout out to @caitmayart for making the new art! It has the quality of a professional and the extra love of a fan. It’s my fave D20 official art so far. 

I don’t know when this feature was added but I love that there is a full transcript you can pull up and search and jump to that time in the video now. That’s gonna be SO useful for me. 

One of my favorite things about Adaine is that she’s generally polite but occasionally she’ll just absolutely verbally decimate someone so casually and this episode she said to the Solesian Yorbie they encountered, “What movie theater were you assistant managing before you decided to become a Yorbie?” Brutal. 

Also love how vehement she was about the fact that Brennan couldn’t touch Moggy, even when she went down. You are absolutely NOT gonna kill that dog Brennan.  

“Object interaction, touch Gorgug’s foot.”

Fig asks Gorgug how they can heal a van and he says, “Take it to a shop for 3-4 days.” Zac, underrated comic genius. 

I really can’t overstate how funny it is that Fabian spends most of this episode flirting with his own reflection. I’ve said this many times but something I love about Lou is that he’s not afraid to make Fabian deeply uncool, even though Fabian’s whole thing is being as cool as possible. 

Kristen says she needs to have an intense conversation with Cassandra when the fight is over and what does that mean? Like a breakup conversation? Which I guess would kill her because then she’d have no followers again? I am, como se dice, concerned. 

Also, just looking ahead, Tracker is also a cleric. A pretty faithful one from what I can tell. I have to wonder what her take on Kristen completely neglecting her goddess and church is. 

I think it’s so funny that Emily was thinking about retiring Fig so she could just ride off into the sunset with her cool rockstar life and awesome girlfriend because Riz’s big thing last year was being worried all his friend would pair up and leave him so for him to accept it and then have his fears validated right away would be like, welp. 

At a certain point, Murph has to roll damage and he rolls 45 out of a possible 50 damage. That’s crazy. Let’s see how long that luck holds.

[mikuni14]

Phee and Tan sitting in a tree P-L-O-T-T-I-N-G 🥳

I already rewatched episodes 1-4 once, when it turned out that Phee knew Non, and I even joked that when it turns out that he was working with Tan (there were already theories that Tan was New), I would have to watch these episodes ONCE AGAIN 😄 Not that I'm complaining! I love this series and when I like a series, I love coming back to it. I was going to do it now, especially after episode 10, where the characters were behaving weirdly, but after reading @tbhimnoteasyonmyself fantastic post, I don't have to do it anymore (although I still plan to, maybe after the finale?) because everything is written there 😍

While watching Phee's telling his story to Jin, illustrated with his scenes with Tan and SCENES OF TAN HIMSELF, I kept thinking, wait a minute. What? This is his story, why is he telling shit about Tan, where's his version? Later someone pointed out, that so far, the series has shown events as they are. And yet, suddenly we have a story, and only from one POV. And this story surprisingly whitewashes Phee and makes Tan a monster.

There's a lot that can be said about Phee, but I never got the impression that he was a coward, that he would gossip about someone he was so close to, just like that, even with Non he wasn't a petty bitch. No matter how angry Phee was at Tan, his pretty much nasty behavior as a friend, exposing him to Jin and then the rest of the crew, was completely ooc. And who would he do it for? For them? His "friends"? Are we sure Phee considers them "friends"?

That's why I watched episode 10 again, and the second time it seemed even more strange and raised a lot of questions. Like that scene in the temple:

how easily Phee accuses Tan. He thinks that Tan created a whole complex and based on a series of random coincidences, yet effective plan to kill Por, he thinks that Tan killed Deng by stretching a wire in broad daylight when someone could have noticed him, he thinks that Tan planned another complicated, based on a series of random coincidences, and yet a super effective action with a scooter, luring Top to the temple, poisoning him, hypnotizing him and sending him home to kill people???

Phee talks the most about Tan, portraying him as the biggest threat, and then starts telling a tearful story, "you don't know what I did", "it's all my fault", "I was so terrible towards Non". What's interesting is that Phee doesn't cry in this scene (at least I don't see any tears, although the lighting isn't good), and as we know, Phee cries easily when he's in pain

what effect does Phee achieve? JIN CONFESSES

TA DA! 🥳🎉🏆

what is Phee's reaction to this - a sigh that sounds like a mix of relief and triumph. And disbelief.

another interesting fact: Phee reacts the same way as to Non's "betrayal", at first he seems unable to believe what he hears, then he starts to pace around furiously, trying to control himself. The only difference is that Jin, unlike Non, does not fuel his anger by staying quiet..

During this time, Tan:

tries to calm Tee down, he wants White to take his gun 🤔

interestingly, later he doesn't stop Fluke when he has a gun! 😏

When Phee and Jin show up at home:

Phee informs everyone that Tan is Non's brother and that he WANTS REVENGE

REMEMBER THAT EVERYONE IS HIGH 🚨

Phee creates an atmosphere of threat, revenge that they deserve, and that it's about Non

REMEMBER THAT EVERYONE IS HIGH 🚨🚨

and what's happening? Phee conveniently doesn't have to say more about Tan and Non, because right after that Fluke takes action, steals the gun, has hallucinations, and kills Top

REMEMBER THAT EVERYONE IS HIGH, they just saw a murder, emotions are running high and they feel trapped 🚨🚨🚨

I watched Tan because I love him from that moment on, he is very pleased with the development of events, he is not angry with Phee at all, Phee also suddenly forgets that Tan was supposed to be the biggest monster and a threat

they both actually behave as if they were playing roles, they recite their lines like they're children in a school play, they play the good cop and the bad cop?

what is the effect of all this: TEE FINALLY STARTS TELLING THE TRUTH!!! 🥳🎉🏆

So I have to ask: How were Phee and Tan supposed to get information about Non after getting the boys high on the first night at the party, as Phee said to Jin? They were supposed to be having a great time and then suddenly Phee and Tan would start questioning them about Non and they would just... blurt out everything? 😆 When did Phee and Tan start getting information? NOW.

So, isn't it the case that Phee and Tan rightly guessed that only Tee could know what happened to Non, because the only one capable of making someone disappear is his uncle? There's a lot to be said about the other guys, but they probably don't have the ability, strength, or stomach to "disappear" a person. Probably not even Tee, but he may have something else: INFORMATION.

Did Phee betray Tan in this ep? I'm 99% sure not. They both watch calmly as the rest of the "friends" accuse each other. Phee pays special attention to Tan AND to Tee:

Isn't the most important thing for them (or for Tan especially) is discovering the truth that Tee knows, and the rest is just an accidental casualty of their war? Jin may be important to Phee, who might even want to protect him... but maybe not? Maybe Phee has a moral problem with all of this, but he doesn't feel morally better to stop Tan, seeing what all their "friends" started has led to, and even though he doesn't agree with him, he won't bother him?

(While watching episode 10 again, I also noticed this:

The shadow in the left corner was moving, it looked like there was someone else in the temple with Tan and Top. Non? Perth? Or maybe that woman Keng was working with?)

EDIT: so what I'm trying to say is that Phee and Tan could work together and manipulate others to obtain information about Non, regardless of the costs, and in Tan's case even enjoying the "costs". At least I would like it to be so 😉

Of course, I may see something that isn't there, want to see something more, have too high expectations of DFF. I'm pretty sure that's not the case, but like my dear friend @italianpersonwithashippersheart I've also seen too many good shows that screwed up the ending... But I still have hope 😚 DFF maintained a high standard for me throughout its 10 episodes. Even if they fuck up the ending, even if everything that surprised me in this episode turns out to be me cosplaying Fluke and seeing things that aren't there (and cosplaying Top, because I'm hypnotized by Tan), it's still 10 episodes of excellent content 💖