#op(?) or whoever gave him that shirt I LOVE YOU

[drugsforaddicts]

I'M GONNA CRY (x)

[epickiya722]

REACTIONS TO EPISODE 2 - MIRUKO, THE NO. 5 HERO 💜🐇🌙

LAST EPISODE'S REACTIONS HERE!!

Once more, my reactions are not be taken all serious. Genuine reactions, but also played for laughs. Pictures will he included for any clarification of whatever scene I'm talking about, but I also don't intend to put a lot of pictures.

Also, given this is a Miruko episode, there will no doubt be a lot of Miruko love here. Anyone who follows my blog is well aware I adore her and she's my fave in the whole series (tied with Midoriya). With that said, if you have a problem with it, DO NOT PROCEED THEN! DON'T EVEN COMMENT IF YOU HAVE NOTHING NICE TO SAY! DON'T CARE FOR THE SLANDER! WE ALL HAVE OUR FAVORITE CHARACTERS AND MIRUKO JUST HAPPENS TO BE MINE!

Onwards!!

I want to start off by saying, RIP to Johnny. He was just a little guy in a big world. You deserved better.

WHEN SHE DID THE KICK!! WHY IS MIRUKO SO BADASS?!

What reason did they have to show Johnny's corpse?! DEVASTING!

Alright, Doctor, I feel a little sorry for you. It's hard to see your life's work come crumbling in front of you... I still don't like you.

OP a banger as always!

She called him an old geezer. I'm sorry, that did tickle me. That little grin of hers.

Real quick though, again, shoutout to Sayaka Kinoshita! Her voice acting for Miruko is AMAZING, she really embodies the power of her. I can't wait to hear Anairis Quiñones for the dub.

"I'll know once I kick him." PLEASE DO, QUEEN!!

"Capture Garaki." "I gotta kick him first." Miruko, I beg you, never stop being you.

Endeavor really out here offering Eraser Head to be his sidekick... okay, man recognizes potential, I guess??? Admittedly that was funny because of Eraser's response.

"No thanks. I need to take care of my lousy students." Putting that in my favorite quotes list!

Aizawa looks so done. And then Endeavor smirks at him. My guy...!

I'm glad the Nomus wear pants... but what about shirts? They don't get cold? Look, I'm already worrying about Kirishima and Tetsutetsu.

*shows the hero kids* MY BABIES!!!

*shows Burnin* MY OTHER QUEEN!!! 💚❤️‍🔥

You know what, Bakugou by now wouldn't actually mind evacuating civilians since it means saving people. So to see him be agitated about it so... OOC for me, I'll admit, since CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. It was played for comedy, but still. I mean reimagined him approaching a doorbell all calm like actually really chill, and then screaming "EVACUATE!!" because he would want people to get the stepping, hurrying up so they won't be in danger. I was actually confused at that part because I know that wasn't in the manga and I had to figure out where does that play at and it really was just a scene that was added in. It had to happen between chapter 359 and 370 theoretically, but I just imagined something different. 🤷🏿‍♀️

Okay, the little "mmmhmmm" sound that Crust makes? I want a whole audio compilation of that.

"They're all common soldiers. Poor things!" LIKE?! HELLO?! I honestly do feel sorry for the Nomus. *glares at AFO & the Doctor*

*Present Mic does his introducing of the quirk and character thing* Whoever made the decision for Mic to do that is a genius.

The Doctor pleading to Miruko about being the real one and she still insists on kicking him. Show him no mercy!!

I need Tomura to dress more like that!!! Wait... why does this feel like foreshadowing to me? *shivers in manga reader*

Them High Ends!!!

It's gross but omg when she did the thing!! Miruko, what reason do you have to be so badass?

THEY GAVE HER THE HALFTIME CUT!! THANK YOU THAT'S ALL I ASKED FOR LAST WEEK!!! 💜🐇🌙

MY BOY KAMINARI GOT ONE TOO?! HELL YES!!! ⚡️⚡️⚡️

Okay, I like Crust. This man has sympathy!

Thanks for the Nomu lesson!! I was a little curious about them and I know he didn't just name that Nomu "Woman".

*shows AFO in prison* He looks like he's in timeout... well he is.

DO NOT CALL TOMURA YOUR MASTERPIECE!! HE IS A HUMAN BEING THAT HAS YET TO CATCH A BREAK!! FIGHT ME!!

THE SCENE!! THAT SCENE!! I LOVE YOU MIRUKO!!! 💜💜💜

LUNA RING!! LUNA FALL!! OMG THE WHOLE FIGHT SCENE WHERE SHE'S JUMPING AROUND DOING FLIPS AND THE MUSIC!!! THEY DID NOT DISAPPOINT!!! 😭💜🐇🌙 DO NOT BE SURPRISED WHEN I MAKE GIFS OF THIS!!!

WHEN SHE RIPPED HIS HEAD OFF!! THAT'S FOR HER DAMN ARM!!!

"Zombies won't be able to kill the hero, Miruko!" TELL ME WHY SHE'S NOT #1!!! I'M DONE, I CAN'T!! SHE'S TOO MUCH OF A BAD BITCH AND I JUST CAN'T DEAL!! OMG!!

Damn, ya'll actually still walking through the forest? I really thought the action started with ya'll too already.

Cementos' face though in this shot. Hee hee. Why is that funny to me?

Damn, Edge Shot is so pretty.

I love it when Sero just doesn't deal with Mineta. "Stand up." I love you, Sero.

How many cat folks do we have in BNHA?!

Scratch that (unintentionally pun), how many animal themed folks we have in BNHA?!

Jiro worrying about Kaminari... 😭😭😭

Omg, Kaminari freaking out (relatable) and Midnight and Tokoyami reassuring him... 😭😭😭

Skeptic is the bravest soul I know because ain't no way I would be running with an OPEN LAPTOP and typing on it at the same time without the fear of dropping it.

First off, Skeptic, do NOT blame Twice for anything! DO NOT!

Oh, shit, we got Kaminari's evil uncle in the building!! (They aren't really related... but it's funny this is the third person I have seen have yellow and black hair like Kaminari. He even got the bolt.)

Okay, Cementos! You go, boy! 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾

THAT SCENE!! THAT KAMIJIRO SCENE!! MY HEART!!!

THE TOKOKAMI SCENE!!! MY HEART!!!

ALRIGHT, KAMINARI!!! THAT'S MY BOY!!! YES!!! YES, KING!!!

I love that this episode gave my Miruko and Kaminari badass moments. Today has been a good day.

Let me just say this because personally, I feel this does need to be said. We all have our opinions and whatnot, but sometimes I feel like 98% go into watching and reading something with a critical mind first. Go into watching and reading something with the purpose to be entertained before you decide to criticize something. Otherwise, you will ruin the experience for yourself and not enjoy the moments you wanted to.

Like I wasn't going into watching this episode to critique it. I went in first with the excitement to see Miruko, Kaminari and the others. I want to be entertained first and then I'll go back and critique if I wanted to. Enjoy and then critique. You don't have to enjoy it, no, but seriously REMEMBER THIS IS FICTION! TREAT IT AS SUCH!!

Overall opinion, I did enjoy what I watched, but the only thing that bothered me was the Bakugou scene, I mean I feel like that whole scene didn't even need to be there. Yes, including taking Iida, Midoriya, Koda, Uraraka, Asui and Todoroki out, so be it. *narrows eyes* Honestly, someone at BONES has to have some personal vendetta against Katsuki. Not the whole studio, but just someone. If it was the whole studio, let's be honest, there wouldn't have been that scene where Katsuki told the kid about looking at his own flaws before judging others two seasons ago or last season with the whole Team Bakugou vs Team Tokage episode. I have already prepared myself for all the unnecessary moments like Bakugou being agitated because it's not nothing new and it won't stop.

Reminder though, this is the season where THAT SCENE happens and us manga readers know better. I feel like that's important. There will never be the stopping of character mistreatment be it from the inside or from antis and as people who are fans of Bakugou (or just any character who gets this treatment), let's remind ourselves that we know the original source (the manga and Horikoshi) and we know how it supposed to be and we just continue enjoying Bakugou content that is enjoyable.

[pixelwisp-archive]

oooo sharing a bed with matsukawa?? i love that man but anyone honestly this trope is too good ajdhdjjd

hi ori ily 🖤🖤

hiii Amaya ily <333 I've had this idea in my head forever so this was literally perfect ;-;

wc: just under 1k

Issei Matsukawa was pretty sure that some higher power thrived off of watching him suffer. As if the last few months weren’t taxing enough - The entire process of getting ordained, dealing with groomzilla Oikawa, dealing with other groomzilla Iwaizumi, and taking on a co op role of Iwa’s Best Man with Makki, who, by all accounts, should never be allowed to plan anything by himself - he now had to share a room with you; his best friend, Oikawa’s person of honor, and someone he’s been disgustingly in love with for so long he’s forgotten what it’s like to not be in love with you.

When he first found out the news, he thought ‘this is fine, we can handle this. It’s just a room’, but the back of his mind was frantically trying to figure out what he possibly could have done that would have pissed the gods enough for them to punish him like this (he could only recall that one time during New Years, when he picked his nose and wiped it on the shrine; but he was six, and Makki had dared him, so surely they had forgiven him for that?). He was too stuck in his head to notice the lilt in Oikawa’s voice as he explained that ‘We’re just trying to save some money, and Makki is already rooming with so-and-so, so you understand, right Mattsun?’, nor the mischievous glint in his eyes as he handed him the two hotel room keys, along with an order to not show up late to the ceremony, to which Mattsun only barely nodded to.

One night. One room. It’s fine, he thinks. 

It was not fine.

His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach when he saw the singular mattress in the middle of the hotel room. He briefly wondered if Oikawa was the aforementioned higher power. Does he know about the booger? 

Mattsun almost wanted to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, because of course. Of course Oikawa would use his own wedding to try to get Mattsun to confess for the millionth time. Of course Oikawa would make it as uncomfortable as possible for him in the process. Of course Makki would be in on it; Iwaizumi too, probably (although begrudgingly so). Of course he was, once again, at the mercy of his shitty friends, forced to suffer through another awful set up that’s destined to go horribly wrong. 

He knew whoever was "upstairs" was laughing at him. They were laughing at his suffering and honestly? He wouldn't be surprised if Oikawa did turn out to be some sort of demigod, who's only mission was to make Mattsun wish the next funeral he'd have to plan was his own.

After a rush to the bathroom, a splash of cold water, and a less-than-peppy "pep" talk in the mirror, Mattsun decided that he could do this. He can totally sleep next to you for one night. He'll face away from you, or lay over the blankets, or even sleep on the floor - whatever will help minimize contact between you two. He'll hash out the details later. The important thing is, he can do this.

He could not do this.

He didn't plan for you to look as good as you did tonight. He didn't think to consider that you would practically beg him to dance, feeling you pressed up against his chest as you giggled breathlessly into his ear. He didn't factor in the possibility that you would forget to pack pajamas, which meant you ended up in one of his shirts. He didn't take into account how good you always smelled, and how it would envelope him as you laid next to him, soft breaths hitting his shoulder as he stared at the ceiling.

Mattsun played with his fingers as he tried his best to force sleep to overtake him, but all the little things had been building up throughout the day, and he was just so tired, and so hopelessly in love, he just couldn't take it anymore.

He shifted; turned toward you. He took a moment to appreciate the moonlit path that shimmered across your cheekbone, the way your other cheek squished against the pillow, the hands that balled together against your chest. He saw your nose scrunch a little at something - probably his breath - and the final thread of hesitation gave away.

"Hey. Are you awake?" His voice was soft, a whisper, in case you were actually sleeping.

Your nose scrunched again.

"No," you whispered back, and you smiled and opened your eyes to look at him. His breath caught in his throat, but he somehow managed a smile back.

"Funny."

"I'm here all week."

"Y/n," he started. He swallowed. "Are we friends?"

You furrowed your brows, and nodded slowly.

He exhaled. Reached a hand to touch your cheek. His fingertips danced over your skin - his touch light as a feather, like you were the most delicate thing in the world.

"Just friends?"

You looked at him for what felt like an eternity, your face unreadable. He couldn't tell what you were thinking, and every second you didn't answer him had him falling deeper into a new kind of pain he had never experienced before.

You shook your head.

He felt the hope spread throughout his chest as he sucked in a breath. His touch deepened, ever so slightly.

"More?" He whispered. You reached up to cup the hand on your cheek, turning your head to place a soft kiss into his palm.

"More," you affirmed.

Issei Matsukawa was pretty sure that he owed an apology to whatever higher power he had been cursing the last few months. Maybe Oikawa wasn't a demigod - or maybe he was, but he was helpful rather than spiteful - and maybe whoever was hanging out upstairs dealing with him had been as frustrated with him as he had been with himself.

As his fingers trailed up your thigh and you whispered love into every inch of his skin, he realized, begrudgingly, that he would have to thank Oikawa tomorrow, but when he smiled against your lips for the first time, he decided that maybe thanking Oikawa wasn't the worst thing in the world if it meant he finally got to have you.

Requests are open! 

[the-iceni-bitch]

Here Comes the Hammer

Pairing: Thor x fem!Reader

Words: 2709

Summary: The team’s teasing leads to you and your Asgardian boyfriend trying an adventurous new position.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, oral sex (F receiving), unprotected vaginal sex in a position that could potentially cause injury if attempted without proper prep), fluffy Thor, SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!!

A/N: This is for @imanuglywombat‘s “Is that even a sex position?” weekly challenge, this week being “Thor’s Hammer”, so I figured our favorite Asgardian puppy would be perfect for this! Sort of a continuation of my previous Thor fic, but could def be considered a one shot. 

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!

You had been working in the lab with Bruce for 3 hours now, making final tweaks to a formula that had been nagging at you for weeks. You were about to run another test when both of your phones went off, indicating someone had put out something in the group chat.

“Anything important?” You asked as Bruce moved to check his phone, since he was closer, continuing to scribble notes on your clipboard.

“Not sure, it looks like Nat sent us a video.” He opened the message and suddenly turned beet red, slamming his phone face down on the table immediately. “No, not important.”

“Shit, what’s wrong?” You asked, worried at his sudden change in demeanor when you heard another ding from your devices.

“Y’know, I think I’m gonna take a break.” He said, his voice cracking as he tugged at his collar. He avoided making eye contact with you as he shuffled out of the lab.

“What? Banner! We’re about to run the final test!” You yelled after him as he scurried away. “Alright what the fuck is going on.” You grumbled as you moved to pick up your phone, hissing between your teeth as you opened the attachment. “Son of a bitch, Romanoff!!” You bellowed as you tore out of the lab.

You stormed through the compound, fully prepared to beat the shit out of your friend once you found her. Sam and Steve saw you first and quickly moved out of your way, Sam trying to suppress his laughter while Steve avoided eye contact with you, a flush creeping over his neck as he spluttered. You just flipped the two of them off as you strode past them, sending Sam into hysterics.

“Hey there, Y/N. Did you happen to see that video Nat sent out earlier?” Tony asked you innocently as you thundered into the commissary, seething.

“Where the fuck is she, Tony? I’m going to murder her.” You growled at him, your unsuccessful search making you even more angry.

“She and Clint headed out on an op this morning, why is something wrong?” He was giving you that stupid shit-eating grin that you just wanted to slap off his smug face.

“Good morning, Stark! Y/N, my love, I was so distressed when I woke to find you missing from our bed!” Thor bent down to give you a deep kiss, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips before pressing between and tangling with yours. You had to put a hand on his chest and push him away after a minute so you could catch your breath, your brain needing a second to reset. “Also, I ran into Banner, he seemed rather upset when I tried to speak to him, and I’ve noticed people acting strangely whenever I approach them.”  Maria walked into the kitchen then but immediately turned around and left when she saw you, giggling. “See? Just like that.”

You rolled your head to glare at Tony, whose grin had now spread so wide it was bordering on Cheshire cat territory. He put up his hands and started backing away as you narrowed your eyes and growled at him. “I’ll let you two talk.”

“Has something happened?” Thor was looking at you with concern as he cupped your cheek, bringing your face around so he could gaze into your eyes.

You felt yourself relax as you looked back at him. He was so considerate and sweet and when he looked at you like this you could just melt. Damn him.

“Thor, sweetie.” You searched for the words to explain exactly what had set you off and made every interaction the two of you were going to have with the team in the future extremely awkward. “Hmm, y’know how different sex positions have names, and how some of them could probably be considered funny?”

“Yes, you Midgardians are wonderfully inventive. I do admire your wit.” He grinned at you.

“Right, well… shit. Fuck it, I’m just going to show you.” You pulled your phone out of your coat pocket and opened the group chat with a sigh. Curse the man for not being able to figure out smart phones. There were significantly more responses to the video now, mostly laughing faces and reaction GIFs. God, you hated your friends sometimes.

This you, Y/N? Natasha had provided as a caption.

Thor watched the video with intense interest as it played, eyes glued to the screen. It opened with the words “Thor’s Hammer” scrolling across the screen before opening to a woman bent almost in half on a couch as her partner towered over her, fucking her brutally as she screamed in pleasure.

“She seemed to enjoy herself.” He said as the video ended, brows furrowed as he considered things. “Natasha’s joke is that you’re the woman in the video? Because the sex position is called ‘Thor’s Hammer’, and you’re sleeping with me, and I’m Thor?”

You let out a sigh of relief and nodded. Sometimes you had to explain these types of jokes to him and a certain amount of humor was lost in translation. You poured the two of you some tea and handed him his before leaning back on the counter and taking a deep breath.

“And you’re angry because Natasha made a sex joke at your expense?”

“Kind of.” You frowned as you considered what exactly had set you off about the video. “I guess it was more the surprise of it. And the fact that she sent it to all of our friends, some of whom have very old-fashioned ideas about this sort of thing.” You said, considering poor Steve.

“Ah, yes, the Captain.” He said with a wry smirk before gulping down the rest of his tea and putting the mug in the dishwasher. “I think I know how to get back at her.” He said as he lifted your phone again, starting to type something.

“No, honey, what’re you doing?” You reached for your phone, but he danced away from you, chuckling as he kept the device just out of your reach. “Thor.”

“Gods, how can you type anything with this tiny little keyboard?” He complained as he continued playing his game of keep away. He was now typing one handed as lifted the phone over his head, doing his best to hold you back with his other arm. He’d underestimated your persistence though as you climbed on the counter and pounced on his back.

“Aha, sent!” He beamed at you over his shoulder as you tried to shimmy up him like a tree, your legs wrapped around his waist as you reached for your device.

“What did you do?” You hissed as he dropped the phone into your hand. “Thanks for the inspiration, Natasha. Thor. Oh my god!” You groaned, tucking your head into his shoulder. “That took you so long to type!”

“Those buttons are too small!” He chuckled, wrapping his arms behind him to bring you around to his front and pressing his lips to your hair.

Your phone was buzzing in your hand repeatedly in your hand. You took a look at the screen and cursed, damning whoever had told Tony Stark about reaction GIFs. The man was a menace.

Poor Steve wandered into the commissary to see you wound around your Asgardian boyfriend, slightly disheveled after your attempt to get your phone back.

“Oh my god.” He spluttered before backing out of the kitchen, all the blood draining from his face as he avoided making eye contact with you. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, Steve!” You called after him, untangling yourself from Thor as he let out a deep laugh. You tried to catch up to him but when you poked your head out the doorframe, all you got at was him jogging away down the corridor. “That poor prude.” You said, shaking your head as you turned back to Thor, yelping to find him right behind you.

“You ready to try it out, love?” He asked, gazing down at your through lust blown pupils as he pressed you against the doorframe.

“Fuck.” You whined as he buried his face in your neck, brushing his teeth over your jugular before sucking at the hollow behind your ear, and your felt a rush of arousal flood your panties. “Thor, we need to go back to the room.”

“Why? It’s not like we’ve never done it in the commissary before.” He mumbled against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of electricity that you were pretty sure he did on purpose.

“Not at 11 AM!” You gasped as his fingers dug into your hips and pressed you into him, grinding his growing erection against your hip.

“I think maybe you’re the prude.” He teased before lifting you effortlessly and flinging you over his shoulder with a squeal, silencing you with a slap on the ass as he started carrying you back to your room, grinning at each person he passed as you laughed breathlessly.

You groaned as you passed Sam and Rhodes chatting in the hall, the two of them giving you lecherous grins and catcalls as Thor strode past determinedly. Maria gave you a double thumbs up when she saw the two of you, and you returned it with a grin.

You finally reached your apartment and he kicked the door open with a slam, making you jump. He dropped you on the couch and gave you a quick peck on the lips before going to close the door, and you worked on stripping off your clothes. When he turned back to you, you were in only your bra and panties, and he growled as he stalked towards you.

He ripped off his shirt before pouncing on you, burying his face between your breasts as his arms wrapped around you, pressing you to him as he sucked soft bruises against your skin, making you whine. His fingers moved to the clasps of your bra, undoing it quickly and sliding it down your shoulders before tossing it aside. You ran your fingers through his hair as he laved his tongue over one of your nipples, drawing it to a sensitive peak as he palmed your other breast. He moved to do the same with your other bud at the same time he dipped his fingers into your panties, humming against you as his fingers brushed over your slick coated folds.

“Fuck.” You groaned as he slipped a finger inside you, your hands tugging painfully at his hair as he curled it against that sweet spot and you clenched around him.

“I want you ready for me love.” He murmured as he brought his face back up to yours, pressing his lips to yours softly before slipping his tongue into your mouth and curling it against your own. You felt his grin as you whined when he slid a second finger inside you, scissoring them as he stretched your canal and you arched yourself into his hand. He gave you one more quick peck on the lips before leaving a trail of soft kisses down your torso, coming to rest between your thighs and slipping off your panties.

He ran his tongue over your folds as his fingers curled inside you, making you squirm as he kept bypassing your clit, his breath teasing it without ever making content.

“Damnit, Thor!” You cursed him as he brushed his tongue past your tiny bundle of nerves again. It was throbbing with need as he fucked you with his fingers. “Quit being a fucking tease!”

His chest rumbled as he gave a low chuckle, then his lips wrapped around your clit and you saw stars. Your thighs clenched around his head and every muscle in your back seized, arching you off the couch violently as you came against his face. You were white-knuckling the cushions as you rode it out, your muscles vibrating with pleasure as you came down slowly.

Thor stood up once you relaxed your thighs, beaming down at you as he slipped out of his jeans and boxer briefs. You were looking a bit fucked out, but the grin you gave him let him know you were still up for more.

“You ready for the hammer?” He asked you with a lecherous wink.

You giggled hysterically as he yanked you down the couch, hooking his hands under your knees as he climbed above you, one foot resting on the armrest and the other stretched over your torso and slotted under your neck as you brought your knees up to rest against your cheek.

“Thank god I took up yoga huh?” You joked as you schooled your breathing.

He gave you a grin as he slid into you easily, letting out a deep groan as you drew him into you, your cunt clenching and fluttering around him as he slowly sheathed himself in you.

“Fuck.” He hissed, making you whine. Thor almost never cursed and when he did, it did things to you. “You still alright, beautiful?”

“I’m great. Oh my god!” He was fully seated in you now, and his massive cock was hitting you in a spot that was previously undiscovered, lighting you up from the inside. “Jesus, fuck, right there!”

He slipped out of you a bit before slamming home again and you almost blacked out, it felt so good. He began thrusting in earnest and you were having trouble thinking as he dragged himself over that spot with each plunge.

All you could focus on was the feel of him moving inside you, each thrust bringing you closer to what you were sure was going to be the most intense orgasm you had ever had. Your breath was coming in shallow gasps, and you were worried about passing out.

“Gods, you feel amazing.” He whispered as you squeezed your thighs together, tightening yourself around his cock even more. Your pussy was absolutely soaked, a series of lewd squelches filling the room as he thrust into you over and over. You wrapped your hand around his calf, seeking an anchor as he pounded you into the cushions, making it difficult to catch your breath. “You close, love?”

All you could do was whimper as your cunt clamped down on him, your release squirting out of you as you came harder than you ever had. You felt him throbbing inside of you when he let out a moan and suddenly you were flooded with warmth as he shot his cum into you, continuing his thrusts and shoving his seed deep inside you.

Thor pulled out of you gingerly once he was finished, watching you closely for any signs of injury. You just laid there as you came down, your knees on either side of your face which looked exceptionally fucked out, your mouth in a sloppy grin as he looked at you.

“Can you move, sweetheart?” He asked as he moved around the sofa, seriously concerned he might have broken something in you.

“Just a sec.” You groaned before working to unfold yourself, your muscles stiff from being bent in that unnatural position for so long. “Fuck me.”

He knelt next to and pressed his lips to yours, one hand cradling your head as he scooped the other under your knees and picked you up easily, starting to carry you to the bathroom.

“Let’s run a bath for you, love.” He murmured as you tucked your face into his neck blissed out. “Give those muscles a break.”

“Jesus, honey, you’re spoiling me.” You whispered, rolling your eyes at how fucking sweet he was.

“Good.” He murmured against your hair. “I like spoiling you.”

You groaned at that, and he gave you a wink.

The two of you made your way down to the commissary for game night three hours later. You had never felt more relaxed, though your legs were still a bit jelly-like. Nat saw you first and gave a wolf-whistle, quickly joined by the rest of the team, giving you a chorus of jeers and catcalls.

“Hey Friday,” Tony called, “play ‘Here Comes the Hammer.’”

Thor let out a roar of laughter and you just rolled your eyes as the two of you sat down, curling around each other as you prepared for a cutthroat game of mafia.

Tags!!

@slothspaghettiwrites @captain-asguard @starlightcrystalline @bonkywobble @chubbybuckydumpling @StanAllStarks @blackestpinkworld @wandering-spiritash @shutupstevie  @drabblewithfrannybarnes @stargazingfangirl18 @jack-skellingtons-stuff @chrissquares @imanuglywombat

[darylandbethfanforever9]

Devil’s Backbone

Devil’s Backbone

Chapter 1

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ 

Warnings: Smut, violence, flashbacks of past sexual assault, descriptions of torture and racial slurs

This story will contain spoilers for FATWS, and a few spoilers about Black Widow. This is not a Tony Stark friendly story.

I hope everyone enjoys the story :)

Pairings: Bucky/OC, Steve/Natasha, Billy/Wanda/Grant, Clint/Laura, and Sam/Sharon. Tony/Pepper, (mentioned only).

Summary: In the aftermath of the Blip, Bucky struggled to find his place among the world and the Avengers. However, when he is sent on a mission to Madripoor to investigate a mystery woman, he starts to realize maybe his past isn't too far behind him. Co-Written with WalkingPotterGirl14

The Novosibirsk HYDRA base had been abandoned for at least a few years, but it had been in use recently. The rooms were vacant of any dust, something that James Buchanan Barnes noticed as he surveyed the building that had once been his former home as the Winter Soldier. He couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. He had insisted that the bodies of the five Winter Soldiers be given a burial. Plenty of the Avengers had backed him up when Tony had refused to do so. Anything that was of use had been taken away as evidence against HYDRA, seeing as they had been rebuilding their empire. Bucky couldn't help but remember Zola's words. "Cut off one head, two more shall take its place," the recording of Zola had said gleefully. Bucky had shot the machine to pieces in case the AI had planned on blowing them up. He was just about to leave when he found a file disregarded in one of the rooms that were used for medical use. It was mostly written in a mixture of Russian, Belarusian and Ukrainian. Before he could really take a look at it, though, a voice called out. "Bucky, you ready to go?" Sam asked quietly. He nodded and put the file in his backpack, before leaving the room. They joined the others, who were also ready to leave, and made their way to the quinjet.

The young woman's dark hazel eyes snapped open as she was awakened from her sleep. She looked around the room wearily, wondering where her handlers were and if they had fled? It had been so long… She couldn't remember for how long she had been, however…but the last thing she recalled was being taken away to have her mind wiped. If that was the case, then it had been 2016. What had happened since then? Suddenly, she heard a quinjet starting up above the base. She needed to board that plane, before HYDRA returned. That was her way out. That had to be. Quickly, she started running up the stairs, shielding her eyes from the blizzard, and shivered slightly. However, not even the cold could stop her from climbing onto this machine somehow. She found a back door hatchet in the quinjet, before climbing inside and locking the hatch. She made her way to the lower deck, before seeing a flash of red hair. Her eyes narrowed as she hid, but flashes of her mind came back to her. She knew that hair colour, but she couldn't remember who had it. Damn it. She sighed, before settling down, and prepared to get to her next destination.

Bucky sighed in relief when they landed at the Avengers Facility, but grimaced at the weather forecast. The news reporter said that it would be the coldest March on record and advised people to stay at home until the storm passed. He intended on going to his apartment, have a much needed warm shower and then watch the baseball game with Steve, Sam and Clint tonight. He was going to spoil Alpine. He loved the white fluffy cat that he'd rescued from the streets. He went downstairs to get his backpack when he noticed that it hadn't been where he had put it. He frowned, looking around and shrugged. It wasn't like there was anything important in there from before, but maybe he had left it at the base? No, that didn't make any sense. He lets out a soft sigh and glances away, turning back towards the facility. "Hey," he hears from before, feeling himself smile as Steve emerged, his brow raised. "What's going on? We got a whole pizza in here for you." Bucky snorts. "I don't need that much food." "Debatable," Steve states, chuckling lightly. "But you, okay? You look like you've seen a ghost?" "Eh…think I'm just seeing things." Bucky nods towards the base. "Come on. I'll take a slice and then we head back. We gotta get shelter before this storm hits." Steve nods, pushing him forward gently. "Now that sounds like a plan."

The young woman waits until everyone was gone and the voices had stopped, and only then did she allow herself to emerge from the cargo section of the quinjet, moving as quickly as possible. Jesus Christ, it was cold here too. Why couldn't they have flown to somewhere warm. She glances up at the giant "A" that sat atop this building, and with a start, she realizes that it was an Avengers base. Out of every damn place she could have flown to… You know what? It didn't matter. All that mattered was getting some form of clothing and getting clean. She quickly heads in, taking quick glances around to make sure no one was there. Strangely, there was no one around. But she had a feeling it was most likely because they were in a meeting of some sorts. Great. That gave her the perfect timing. The young woman moves as fast as she could through the halls, looking around, trying to pinpoint out the one spot that she so desperately wanted. And there, near the end, it was. A door with the label 'shower rooms.' She practically groans in pleasure before racing inside, locking the door behind her so she could be alone. While she would like to enjoy this shower as long as possible, she knew her time was limited. So today, it would only be for the basics. As soon as the water had turned warm, she stripped herself of her clothes and stepped in. She always had a regimen, even something she could remember with her fuddled head. Hair, face, body. Those three steps to get it done as soon as possible. And that was exactly what she did, watching as the dirt and grime began to roll of her body in waves. By the end of the shower, the drain was clogged. But hey, it wasn't her problem. And now she smelt of lilacs, so it was even better. She steps out and grabs a towel, unlocking the door and glancing out. There had to be rooms or something here with clothes of some sort. Maybe something she could change into. She had stolen a backpack from someone – maybe that could work. Quickly now, she runs across the hallways to what seemed to be bedrooms, cursing the ones that were locked and then finally finding a few that were open. As she steps inside, she pillages the drawers, finding some jeans, shirts, pajamas, underwear – the whole nine yards. Yes, this was a goldmine. The next couple of rooms seem to have the same amount of clothing, which she steals from as well. Usually, she was never one to just take people's belongings. That was always her caretaker’s orders. If she put one toe out of line, well…that was that. It was the end. But now, her caretakers weren't here. She could do whatever she wanted. And that meant this. As soon as she had changed into some clothes and stuffed several other pieces in the backpack she took, she grabbed some shoes and put them on, heading towards the hallway once more and then racing out. Thank God that this meeting was going on long enough. When she exited the building, she did see plenty of vehicles, waiting to be used. Maybe she could hot-wire a car of some sorts? But as she walked up to a motorcycle, she feels herself smile. Whoever had driven this left the keys in it. "Dumb fuck," she mutters, before getting on and straddling it as quickly as possible. She gives a mock salute to the base before taking off, leaving this area behind.

"What exactly did you find at the base?" Fury asks, his brow furrowed. "All I see here are some old techs that don't quite work anymore. You said this meeting was for something important." "It is, sir," Sam says. "Bucky found this." He brings over the folder that Bucky had found. "He didn't have the time to read it while in the quinjet, but I did, and what's in there is…real fucked up. I don't know if this is going on anymore but…. just read it." Fury takes the file with interest, putting it under a projector so they all could see what was inside.

The file detailed a program called the Black Widow Ops Program that began in the 1950's. It took orphaned young girls as young as five years old to be trained at the Red Room Academy, which was located in the Maryina Horka Forest in Belarus. "The Red Room has ties to an agency called Leviathan. Leviathan is a Soviet deep science and espionage agency. S.H.I.E.L.D had a run in with one of their operatives - a woman called Dottie Underwood. The Leviathan program was shut down in 1963 but the Red Room was already functioning," Steve explained quietly, his voice grim. Fury flipped through the file, his face turning grave at every turn of the file. Everyone at the table was given a copy. Most of the names were crossed out, having died during missions or from training. Bucky glanced at the names, recognizing a few of them. Polina, Irina, Viktoriya, Zorya, Natasha and Yelena. There was another name, but it had been redacted. "All of the people on this list are dead aside from me, Melina, Yelena and Alexei. We shut down the Red Room once and for all after Taskmaster, along with Lukin, restarted the program in 2016. We destroyed the building, and all the girls were killed or had died," Natasha said firmly, her face giving away nothing. He knew better though. She and Yelena were hiding something. "How can you be so sure, Romanoff?" Tony asked snidely, glaring over at her from where he sat next to Bruce and Rhodey. He had been acting like an ass since the Decimation had been reversed. "Because we killed all of them, Stark. They were too dangerous to be allowed to live. Something that the Soldat would know," Yelena answered coldly, her brown eyes flicking briefly towards Bucky. "Don't you dare bring her up, Yelena! You don't have the right to mention her and neither do you Natalia!" Bucky said dangerously. He grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the room. Steve gave Yelena a look of disappointment while Sam ignored her, and both went to check on Bucky. Wanda followed shortly after, with Billy Russo and Grant Ward leaving as well. "We'll continue this meeting in the morning, everyone. Next time, Yelena, I suggest keeping your mouth shut," Fury said warningly, before leaving with his leather coat billowing behind him as he walked out the door. Bruce, Clint, Natasha, Tony, Kate and Yelena were the only ones left in the conference room. An uncomfortable silence hung over them. Clint was the first to say what Bruce and Kate were thinking. "Did you really have to bring up Bucky's past, Yelena? For Christ's sake, he's been through enough. I get that you're mad at him for beating Alexei, but it's not his fault that Alexei got sent to prison!" Clint said angrily, before leaving. Kate left with him. Bruce shook his head. He liked Bucky and didn't understand why Natasha and Yelena harbored so much distrust towards him. Tony hated the man and refused to let him stay at the facility.

Bucky had gone to the garage to get his bike. He just wanted to get away from this place. He knew he wasn't welcome at the compound, but neither was Steve, Sam, Clint, or Wanda for still agreeing with Steve on the accords to an extent. No matter how hard he tried, people were still afraid of him. Some even said on Twitter that Tony should have killed him in Siberia when his arm had been blown off. He sighed heavily, before starting up the engine and drove out of the garage, making his way home. It doesn't take long, thankfully, since they were so close to the city. He parked outside his apartment, heading up the stairs before opening the door and being greeted by Alpine. The fluffy white cat purred at seeing him. He crouched down to stroke him tenderly behind the ear. The cat purred loudly before he locked the door and went to wash his bowl. After finishing that, he gave Alpine fresh water and fresh food and biscuits. He smiled as he watched Alpine eat happily, before turning on the TV and started cooking dinner. "You don't deserve to be an Avenger, you murderer!" Tony had snarled at him when Fury announced Bucky was being added to the team. All he could did now was prove all of them that he did deserve to be an Avenger. It was all he could do. He made sure to text Sam and Stave that he was alright. He didn't want to burden Steve and Sam, or Clint and Wanda. They were good to him, along with Yori and Leah, even though Yori knew it was him that had killed his son.

Anastasia had dumped the bike at the nearest garage before going to a long-abandoned HYDRA safe house in the Upper West Side. She checked to see if anyone had been there lately, but luckily, no one had ever checked the place out. She took off the black leather jacket before checking the office and logged into the computer. She typed in the password, relieved when it was correct and was greeted with a very large amount of money. "You were a bastard, Pierce. I fucking hated you, but at least you didn't lose the money after all this time," she remarked coldly, before deciding to make her way to Madripoor, converting the money to cash just as quickly through the machine. It was probably the safest place for her, considering that the Avengers would soon find out that the HYDRA safe house had been slept in and the money was gone. She counted the notes carefully, stunned that she had over 4.29 million dollars in cash. She intended on donating some of the money though to a few charities that she genuinely liked. The Red Room and HYDRA had always hated how she was still soft despite the brutal training they put her through. Not to mention the days of starvation and having broken bones from sparring sessions.

Natasha had gone to her room to have a shower and get changed into more comfortable clothing, only to realize that some of her clothes were missing. Namely one of her black leather jackets was missing along with a pair of her size seven black combat boots. Did Yelena or Wanda take her clothes? Her brow furrows before she moves outside. "Wanda?" She calls out as she sees the Avenger pass her. She looks up as she does. "Did you take any of my clothes?" Wanda's brow furrows before she shakes her head. "No, not at all. Is your stuff missing?" "Stuff from me is missing too," Yelena says, emerging from her room. "Couple of my shirts." "Huh," Natasha mutters before turning to Wanda. "Sorry for bothering you. Think we might have just misplaced stuff." Wanda smiles a bit. "We all do that sometimes." She waves bye to her as she heads back towards her room, but as soon as she had moved around the other side of the hallway, Natasha pulls Yelena into her room, before closing the door behind her. Instantly, Yelena's eyes turn to her. "What's going on?" "You and I both know what I'm thinking," she says lowly. "Why do we think that our clothes are missing?" "Could just be some kid who broke in." "Come on, some kid can't break into an Avenger's base," Natasha chastises. "Barely anyone knows where this place is unless told…it had to be someone who had tailed us back all the way from…you know where." Yelena's eyes widen a bit. "You don't think-" "We didn't see anyone there but…but what if? There might have been someone who has escaped the HYDRA base when we left and is now just…roaming around New York City. How else would our clothes be missing? They must have stolen them to get clean and then taken off." Yelena bites her lip and then nods her head slowly. "It does make sense." "Fury," she says quietly, bringing Yelena's attention back to her. "There are hidden cameras in the hallways. We could ask him for security access to see who it was." "Fury isn't really in my good graces right now," Yelena mutters.

"It doesn't matter. If the safety of our organization is at stake, he will let you go through his cameras. He'll go down for SHIELD, you know this." She glances towards the door. "We need to try and take care of this. As soon as possible." Yelena nods, sighing. "I know…I know."

She had to admit that New York City was nice. It had been years since she had been to this place, only with the intention of missions, and even then, she could hardly remember what it was like. But with the money she did have now, she might as well buy a few things before she was on her way to Madripoor. As she walks into a tiny coffee shop that seemed to be below an apartment building, she asks quietly for a cup of coffee black and two cookies – might as well get some good stuff in her prior to a long flight. "What's the name?" The barista asks politely. For a moment, she froze. Her name brought back so many painful memories. So many that she wanted to forget. She hated even thinking of her time in that spiteful, horrible prison. So, she makes a change, right here and now. "Ana," she says softly. "It's Ana." The barista nods, writing her name down on a cup. There, a refreshing new start. She was no longer Anastasia. She was Ana. Fair and square, no ifs ands or buts. She wasn't going to be HYDRA's puppet anymore…even if her memory wasn't the same. She moves to take a seat over in the corner, waiting patiently for her food and drink to be done. In the meantime, she saw someone else come in, a man that looked to be slightly older than her but not by much. He had a jacket and gloves covering his hands. She had to admit he was quite handsome, but the last thing on her mind was to get infatuated with a random stranger. Quietly, she listens to his order, what seemed to be a sweeter coffee with a cookie as well, but then he reaches into his wallet and is unable to produce the money for the second item. He sighs and only pays for the coffee, going to sit down. She glances over at him as she hears her name called. "Ana!" Quickly she gets up, grabbing her hot coffee before looking over at the man, quietly glancing down at his phone. If she wanted to start new, she'd start new. She heads over to where he sits, and he looks up at her in surprise. "I…know you don't know me, but I overheard you and-I'm not good with this, just here." Ana gently lowers the cookie onto the table, and a kind smile comes over his lips before he looks up at her. "You didn't have to do that." Ana shrugs lightly. "I heard about the storm that's going to be happening soon…we all gotta look out for each other, right?" She asks. He chuckles a bit and nods. "Indeed, we do…wish others saw it that way." He looks back up at her, his brow furrowed. She tilts her head. "I'm sorry, you…you just look familiar." "Strange…quite sure I've never met you," she chuckles a bit, rubbing the back of her head. "I must sound so weird," he states, shaking his head. "It's okay," she responds lightly, but she had to admit inwardly the stranger did have a nice smile. A part of her wanted to sit down and talk with him more but she knew she had a flight to catch. "But enjoy the cookie, stranger. I have to get out of here. Stay warm." He offers another smile to her. "You too." Ana smiles at him before heading out the door, holding onto her bag tightly and her coffee in the other hand. For a second, she pauses, glancing back at the coffee shop. Strange…he felt familiar too. But that was impossible. The only person she ever knew was long gone…or at least she thought he was. Maybe she was just crazy. Yeah, she was crazy. Ana shakes her head and quickly heads back towards the street, whistling out for a cab. It was time she got out of this town.

"It's nine at night," Wanda mutters, angrily coming into the briefing room with the other Avengers. "What is it that you all could need at this hour? We're supposed to be resting for the upcoming mission." Fury sighs as everyone takes a seat. "We got a big problem – wait, where's Barnes?" "Who cares?" Tony mutters. Steve glares at him before sighing at Fury. "Bucky went home after the incident this afternoon." "Goddammit – get his ass back here. We can start then. And Yelena – keep your mouth shut!" Yelena rolls her eyes but nods, crossing her arms against her chest. Steve grabs his phone, quickly making the call to Bucky. And hopefully, he wouldn't face the wrath of the Winter Soldier when he returned back here. Thankfully, the snow hadn't started yet but soon enough they'd be snowed in.

"Really?" Bucky asks as he comes in, his brow furrowed. "I literally just settled down to relax." "Sit your whiny ass down," Fury states, gesturing to the spot next to Steve, which he does. "Now that everyone is here, I didn't want to wake you all up or bring you in for nothing. We've had an issue here at the compound. Something that all of you need to be aware of." At that moment, he pulls up what seems to be security came footage, and there in the hallways was a girl.

tag list: @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @sapphirescrolls , @americasass81​ @marvelfansworld , @connie326 , @joannaliceevans-fanficblog , @queenoftheunderdark @navybrat817 and @threeminutesoflife , @lex-the-flex, @world-of-aus, @avintagekiss24 and @the-soulofdevil, @gogolucky13 and @kenzieam and @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​

[canary3d-obsessed]

Lost Tomb Lewks, Part 7

The Warehouse 11 Special

(Masterpost)

Warning: Spoilers for Season 1 of The Lost Tomb Reboot

Rather than intersperse an endless series of slightly-different Warehouse 11 outfits throughout the series, I’m going to cover them all in one long post. Wu Xie spends a LOT of time in various Warehouse 11 uniforms. but at least he doesn’t spend three episodes chained to a pillar; I’m looking at you, Shen Wei. 

Out of curiosity, I made a swatch of all of the colors used in these looks. It’s actually a pretty good range. They’re not very exciting colors, but the baseline blue-green color of most of the uniforms is flattering. 

Look 31 is the Transport Driver uniform.  This starts off being worn by future friend Li Jiale, who becomes a temporary enemy when Wu Xie tasers him into unconsciousness and steals his clothes and truck. Some people can’t take a joke. 

This uniform is a rich blue with maroon detailing on the chest pockets and a striped ribbon across the chest. It features a closely-fitted hat and a blue and white arm patch. 

The arm patch features a swirly design similar to traditional cloud, bat, and butterfly embroideries; perhaps it’s meant to represent one of the various bugs that will try to kill Wu Xie during his time in the caverns of Warehouse 11.

Look 32 belongs to Bai Haotian, aka Xiao Bai, who is such a delightful character she almost makes up for the other two major female characters in this thing.  Not only does she not suffer in order for a man to have feelings about her suffering, but when she is rescued from danger by the man she loves, it does not lead to making out or other intimate moments. So refreshing!

Her uniform is not particularly refreshing, but it is different from Wu Xie’s, and she looks cute in it. This look features fitted dark trousers (it’s hard to tell from the lighting if they are black, green, or blue), a jacket in Pantone 5473C with a collar and pocket flaps in 5477C. Sorry for busting out the Pantone refs but I can only type “green” so many times. 

Xiao Bai’s jacket has pleated box pockets over the boobs, which look fine on a person with small boobs. As long as they don’t try to actually put anything in the pockets.  The jacket is fitted through the shoulders with a reverse pleat in the center back. She wears it with a white shirt, suitable for writing on.

(More behind the cut!)

Xiao Bai accessorizes this look with pink underclothes that she hides as quickly as possible, while Wu Xie politely avoids looking quickly checks them out.  

Look 33 is Wu Xie’s Level 1 Uniform. It’s Pantone 5473C with pointed pocket flaps in 5477C and a white-and-5473C striped band across the chest and back. 

It features a close-fitted cap that matches the shirt, and dark cargo pants.

It’s got an inverted pleat in the back and military-style straps on the shoulders. Everything fastens with snaps with shiny black dome covers.

Like all Warehouse 11 indoor uniforms, this has a badge on the chest that’s somewhere between a yellow brass and a green bronze color, depending on how it catches the light. The drivers don’t seem to have these badges. 

I actually kind of like Wu Xie in a hat. 

Wu Xie wears this uniform with black lace-up work/hiking boots. I don’t know if these are part of everyone’s uniform or if it’s a BYOS kind of place. It’s mostly too dark to get a good look at anyone’s feet. 

Look 34 is Wu Xie’s Level 1 uniform with a black tee shirt and socks. 

This is a good look for kissing your own biceps and saying “welcome to the gun show, ladies!” lying down under the stars with a girl and talking about constellations, in a nice twist on a classic romance trope.  

I normally don’t project ideas about friendship onto strangers who work on or star in TV shows, but I really feel like this camera operator understands me. 

Wu Xie accessorizes this look with a water bottle with a picture of his boyfriend on it. 

Wu Xie: If you have one Wu baby and one Zhang baby that will provide a new generation for all three of our families. I promise you’ll like Xiao Ge. He’s...very talented.

This look goes well with having a beautiful face and a loving camera operator & director of photography. 

I could wish the lighting designer was less fond of green, but the plot demands it, alas.

Xiao Bai’s outfit also goes well with having a beautiful face. Her haircut does, too--it’s super cute and flattering. 

Look 35 is Wu Xie’s testing outfit for the first test. It’s his level one uniform, untucked, with dark glasses and fingerless gloves. 

And his tongue. 

OP did not speed up that gif on purpose; she captures everything at that speed, honest.

Look 36 is Wu Xie’s Level 8 Uniform. When they gave him this, did he think “oh, different uniforms for different levels, I wonder which level Xiao Bai’s uniform signifies? He did not. Neither did OP.  

This uniform features a jacket in the green/green color scheme, with two pleated boxy pockets at the waist and one on the right side of the chest. The collar is an open triangle lapel instead of the two-part suit collar featured on Xiao Bai’s jacket - his jacket is tailored more like a work shirt. It’s worn untucked and doesn’t have a waistband. The white-and-green striped ribbon that was over the chest on the level 1 uniform makes an appearance here as tiny tabs on the pocket flaps.  He wears a brown button-up shirt underneath.

I gotta say, the costume department really did a great job designing a whole range of uniforms that have repeating motifs, coloring, and detailing, while changing up how everything is put together.  

All the uniform variations take me back--WAY back--to when I was a girl scout in the 1970s. My troop mostly wore badge vests or sashes over normal clothes but we all liked to look at the glamorous uniforms in the catalogs.

Actually the girl on the floor looks really sharp. Which is probably why she’s keeping away from the nerds on the left. 

Look 37 is Wu Xie’s second test outfit. Yeah, we’re going out of order, to break up the sea of green with some smooth, glowing skin.

Zhu Yilong has nice arms, and whoever designed this sequence thinks so to. Particularly when considering the clothing item Wu Xie puts on over his undershirt.

This lil’ vest would be right at home at International Mister Leather Twill. What on earth is the purpose of a vest with pockets that you wear under an outer shirt with pockets? Other than to give you more time to show off your arms while dressing?

It features black panels on the upper chest and back; one flap pocket closure and one strap pocket closure, a...zipper? down the front? With black fabric on either side.

He wears it under his untucked level one shirt. There is no way anybody wears these vests under their shirts for normal wear - the pockets would keep anything over it from laying flat.

Look 38 is the Supervisor outfit worn by Jia Kezi.

It’s all one color--Pantone 5473C--and has rounded puffy pockets on the chest with rounded flaps, rather than the square ones featured on Xiao Bai’s uniform of the flat chest pockets of the level 1 uniform.

It has a covered placket and a high band collar, with the same close-fitted cap featured in the other uniforms.

He looks really good in this cap, which shows off his beautiful eyes and eyebrows better than his floppy hair, I think. He accessorizes this look with warm-toned skin, a cleft chin and sculpted cheekbones.

Look 39 is Wu Xie’s level 14 uniform, which shows that he’s a director now. 

 It looks exactly like Director Ding’s uniform. 

and, oh hey! It also looks exactly like Bai Haotian’s uniform. 

Her entire disguise was to change badges and remove her tie. 

Look 40 is the last Warehouse 11 uniform. It belongs to book author/screenwriter/producer Nan Pai San Shu, who gets to wear a brown vest and shirt instead of green & green, and whose badge says he’s Level 18. As befits the creator of this endlessly entertaining world and these delightful characters. 

More Lewks coming soon! Including several that are not green!

[rochiomaru]

My Brother's Keeper

Things have been going well for the Family at Spider Miles. I continue to make plans to invade underground trades deeper within the Grand Line, the money is pouring in, and I have learned that Dressrosa has become ripe for the Donquixote lineage to return where we belong. I smile whenever I think of this land, as it is mine by right of my birth. 

Those fools at Mariejois thought to take my royalty from me when they cast me from heaven, but my family ruled that land long before the Celestial Dragons became what they are now. Taking back this nation will be the first piece in shoving my bloodline down their fat, self-righteous throats!  Finally, I shall be acknowledged as the king that I was born to be and can stop living in this trash heap. I can begin to provide more for my family and to give them all they deserve! 

A part of me thinks that everything is lies, but I ignore these troubling thoughts. My family loves me and have been here for me since I was ten years old. My brother has come back to me and stands at my right hand. How can it be anything other than perfect? 

It is what I have always dreamed of. And now with Law here, my little family somehow feels complete. Not that I would love the other children less. That is why I gave them devil fruits to make them stronger, just as Trebol did for me. It’s what you do for those you care for. You give them ways to protect themselves and those they love, as well as the power to take revenge on those who hurt them. To make them invincible to the world!

There’s a small feeling of uneasiness in the back of my mind as I think of Trebol. The voices like to mock me, saying that he is using me. However, I know he loves and worships me. Without him, I would have died years ago… Right? I shake my head to clear the unwelcome feeling and refocus my attention on Law. 

I haven’t really seen him around since the other night at dinner. I can feel the frown deepen on my face as I remember the cruel way some of the others treated the boy. I have been gathering devil fruits and either using them, or selling them for a while now, but there is one that I have been unable to reach that would be of great use, I think. 

The Ope Ope no Mi. The power of this fruit would undoubtedly save his life and would allow him to heal others. He was already training to be a doctor with his biological family. Maybe he will allow me to adopt him into my family and continue his education. Once I find that fruit, Law will be unstoppable. He will be my successor. My own son. The smile on my face practically hurts, but I do not remember having been this happy before. Not even before my family broke when we left heaven.

I call for Machvise and Giolla to go and find him for me before going into my room to read. I take off my glasses and drink some wine to try and relax after a long day. I do not even notice the world beginning to fade away when suddenly I am there again. 

I can feel my body struggle against the villagers, but the flames are hot against my skin! The ropes are again digging into my flesh and the blood is pounding in my ears. The pain is so much! Please make it stop! I can sense the arrow loosed towards my brother when the power wrenches from my stomach.

The next thing I know, I am again in my room, covered in sweat, and I can’t breathe. I lean forward, gasping for air, but the tightness in my chest will not relax. I reach for my sunglasses, and though they bring me some relief, the bottle of wine next to them is a welcome sight. I grab the bottle and begin to drink without even bothering to use my glass. Anything to drown the memories and thoughts that come from these nightmares. I don’t even care how I must look right now. For a moment I wonder what it was that brought this on after so many months of being free from this problem.

However, as the world comes back into focus, my attention is taken from my musing and I notice what must have woken me. The transponder snail keeps his incessant ringing until I pick up the receiver. Ah. It seems they have found Law. I throw down the bottle and the sound of breaking glass barely even registers. I will have Baby 5 come clean it up later, as I have far more important things to attend to now.

Once I make my way into one of our common areas, I see that Rosinante is already there. He looks at me and appears to get up to leave. I shake my head at him and smile. “Please stay, brother. I would like you here for this.” 

He nods and pulls out a cigarette. I reach over to light it for him to ensure he does not set himself on fire again. As I watch him take a drag, I smile softly. He is truly my light and the one to save me from myself. We are the same and I know that he will take my pain and save me from these demons that constantly scream in my head. I was so lost before he returned to me. I wonder if he felt lost too?

I am about to tell him my plans for Law, as I want him to understand how important it will be for me to have a son to carry on the Donquixote legacy. I know my brother doesn’t like children, but if he would just give Law a chance, I know he would see the same thing I do! He would see the same piece in him that is in us. The same pain, the same potential, the same power…

I go to say something to my brother when there is movement at the door and my family has returned with Law carried between them. He looks angry, but that is nothing new. I smile at the boy and watch as they tossed him to the ground. I glared at the two of them and let a piece of my haki catch their attention. Apparently, they did not understand my intentions the other night at dinner. Well, at least after this moment, Law’s place here will be undeniably clear.

“Law, I called you in for just one thing. I’ve decided to welcome you to the Donquixote family officially.” I sat back and genuinely enjoyed watching Law’s mouth drop open in shock. I’m not sure why he thought he had been summoned before me, but I know he did not expect this. I was expecting some push back from my family, but fortunately they seemed to be happy for the boy and are congratulating him.

I feel like I should explain myself to him. He is, after all, going to be my son in all but blood. “Because you went through such a horrible experience, you got that incomparable hateful look in your eyes.” I look into his eyes. “You have the quality.”

Giolla puts her hand on his head and begins fawning over the boy while going on about my “vision”, but he seems to reject her assessment, bringing up his illness. The voices are clamoring within my mind, but I don’t care because this is such a happy day for me! I’m going to have a son and I will raise and protect him. I will give him a place in ten years as my legacy to the world, so how would I ever let him die?

I begin to laugh and tell him it depends on his luck, though I know it has nothing to do at all with luck. He was destined to become the son of a god. I have the blood of celestial dragons in me, whether the fools at Mariejois were willing to let me and my brother back into heaven or not. The voices and that power are swelling inside my core and I am beginning to become overwhelmed in it all.

I told Law about the devil fruits and that there are types that could heal him, though I did not mention the exact one I have in mind for him. That will come for later. I also told him that in ten years I want him for my second in command. I know that the boy is still skittish and very prideful. I want him to build bonds with me and the other family members before I push him too fast. I’ve already given him a lot of information, so I will see if he will grasp the opportunity presented to him.

At that moment Rosinante begins to cough and my attention is taken away from Law. As I look towards my brother, I suddenly feel like all the air has been sucked from my lungs and the smile is wiped from my face. I force myself to stay calm as I see blood covering Rosi’s side. 

For the slightest of moments, even the voices have gone completely silent and everything is numb inside at the sight of his shirt soaked in dark red liquid, though he appears to be trying to hide the spot beneath his hand. In the back of my mind, the only thought I can form is that the villagers got my brother with their arrows. My brother is going to die!

At that thought, a hurricane unleashes inside me and the demons begin to howl and rage! Who would dare to harm my precious baby brother? Do they not realize that he is descended from gods? I fight back the swarming madness and keep my face calm, but my fists clench from the efforts and my frown deepens. When I ask Rosi what happened, I am surprised to hear how controlled my voice sounds.

He writes a note to say that an enemy has done this to him, but it does nothing to quell the tempest that is beginning to storm within me. I can feel the violence within me increasing as I picture the vengeance I plan on taking on whoever did this to my brother. I will make an example of them that the whole world will know to not fuck with my family! 

I ask if he took care of them, just to try and get more information from him. I don’t understand why he didn’t say anything to me in the first place. Perhaps when he sees how I rip this enemy to shreds with my strings, and pull the flesh from their bones slowly while they bleed out and scream for hours, he will then understand how much I love him? I would do anything to keep him safe and punish anyone that would dare harm him! He can trust me to save him, just as he’s saving me. We are family, and that's what you do!

He answers me by writing that he finished the enemy off. The pressure on my heart relaxes and I calm the thoughts that torment me, but the wound still bothers me. I can’t lose my brother. “That’s good. Get it treated, okay?” is all I trust myself to say at that moment.

I reach over to pat Rosi on the shoulder and look once more at Law. He looks like he’s in shock, perhaps at my offer to raise him to be my heir? This makes my heart swell with pride, but I can’t deal with my brother’s pain at this moment and don’t dwell on it long. I can feel myself begin to slip into the darkness again and need to go out for some air. I ask Giolla to get medical attention for my brother as I pass her on my way out, and she responds she will get someone right away. I thank her and move on quickly past the others.

As I move to one of my favorite spots to sit on the rails outside of the buildings, I watch the waves crash against the garbage on the shores and try to breathe. I know that my brother can take care of himself, but when I look at him, I see my moth… I see her and I just want to protect him with everything I have. I lost him once and will not lose him again!

The voices began to scream again that he was lying to me and wanted me dead, but I pushed them aside and continued to watch the waves. I know my brother loves me. He is my heart and my salvation. One day, I know we are going to rule the world together.

[tuiccim]

Santi (Part 6)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 2787

Warnings: Angst, fluff, implied smut  

Summary: An op from the past comes back to haunt you. 

Santi Masterlist

Day 95

Six more weeks pass. Three months since Bucky and life is amazing. Missions have been a bitch but well handled. Everything was great. And then your phone rang. 

“Agent Hill.” You answer. 

“Agent Delarosa. You’re needed for a meeting. Can you be here at 11?” As always, Hill gets right to the point. 

“What meeting and where?” You ask. 

“Senator Bloom is coming and wants to go over an old case. Triskelion.” Hill says. 

“What case?” 

“Caruso.”

Your blood runs cold remembering the psychopath who got away. Vincent Caruso was a mobster, weapons dealer, and HYDRA supplier. You had been undercover for 19 months as a fellow dealer and had built a ruthless reputation to attract his attention. Caruso was brutal and had required blood for proof of loyalty. Once proven he had become obsessed with you. Unfortunately, the FBI came in and botched the entire op. Their planned raid ended in a ton of bloodshed and the escape of Vincent. You had gotten up after being shot twice and punched the lead FBI agent in the face before S.H.I.E.L.D. scooped you up.

“I’ll be there.” You say before hanging up. You pin your hair up in a sleek top knot bun and apply makeup. A fitted black pencil skirt, white blouse, and heels complete your outfit. 

"FRIDAY, where’s Bucky?”

“Sergeant Barnes is in the common room.” FRIDAY replied.

You walk into the common room to find Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Natasha. Bucky does a nearly comical double take when he sees you. His face is a mixture of confusion and appreciation. 

“Nice outfit, Doll. We have a date I forgot about?” Bucky smiles as he pulls you to him. 

“Hill called me in for a meeting at the Triskel.” You look over at Nat .”With Senator Bloom.”

“What does that mean?” Bucky asks looking between you and Nat. 

“Nothing good.” Nat says. 

“They want to go over one of my undercover ops.” You say. “I have a feeling I’m about to be blindsided.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. Bucky looks at you, “What op?”

“I can’t tell you.” You say. 

“What the hell does that mean?” Bucky says. 

“It’s codeword classified.” You say, “I’m sorry.” You look up at him apologetically. 

“It’s okay, Doll.” He understands the bureaucracy.

“I gotta go.” You give Bucky a kiss and head to the meeting with a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

Once at the Triskelion, you enter the elevator and hit the button for the floor of Maria’s office. Jack Rollins slips into the elevator just before the doors close. 

“Agent Delarosa.” He says while boldly looking you up and down. 

“Rollins.” You deadpan. 

“How’s life with the Avengers?”

“Great.” 

He takes a step closer and leans in a bit, “Care to get a drink later? Tell me all about it.”

Casually, you reach into your shirt and pull the dogtags you are wearing out to fiddle with. “No, thanks. Don’t think my boyfriend would like that.” 

You look at Rollins and he leans in even further, “What he doesn’t know…” His eyes had flicked to the tags you are toying with that clearly show BARNES, JAMES B. Rollins snaps upright.

“You were saying? What he doesn’t know…” You look at him innocently. 

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.” Rollins is staring a hole through the door now. 

“Sure thing.” You say tucking the dogtags back into your shirt. The elevator doors open and Rollins quickly exits. You hit the door close button and chuckle at his quick exit. 

You are approaching Hill’s office when she walks out and motions for you to follow her. 

“Hello, Agent Delarosa.”

“Hi, Hill. You know, you’re welcome to call me Santi.” You smile. “We’ve worked together long enough.”

She stops and turns to look at you, a slight smirk on her face. “Maria.” She says holding out her hand. You smile and shake on it. 

“How is Sergeant Barnes?”

“Bucky’s great.” You can’t contain your smile when it comes to him. “Where are we going?”

“Fury’s office.” Maria answers. 

You stop in your tracks, “Why does Fury need to be in a meeting about a dead op?”

Maria stares at you for a moment before saying “We need to get in there.”

“I knew it. What is he planning?” You seeth.

“You’ll have to ask him.” Maria says, but then her expression softens, “I’m sorry, Santi. Really.”

You nod and enter Fury's office. 

"Agent Delarosa." Fury greets you.

"Director. Senator Bloom." You nod to both and feel the tightness of your face as you try to control the fear and anger bubbling up.

“Vincent Caruso has resurfaced.” Fury begins. “His operations had been overseas the last three years but he’s back in New York.”

Senator Bloom interjects, “It’s time to take him and whoever he’s supplying for down.”

You cross your arms and split a suspicious look between the two, “And how are you planning to do that?”

“Eve.” Fury states simply. 

“Eve Lastra died in the FBI raid and has been dormant for three years. She can’t just waltz back in the door.” You say. 

“She was shot in the raid. No one said she died. And she’s only been dormant on the East Coast.” Fury states. 

“What did you do?” You glare at Fury. 

“I kept an asset in play.” Fury states simply. “Her name has still been out there since the raid. Now, it’s time for her to return.”

“No.” You say. 

“Agent Delarosa, you have to understand we don’t ask this of you lightly. I understand you were shot on this operation, but we can’t pass up an opportunity like this. You are our best chance of getting in on this. We can’t afford to start over with someone new.” Senator Bloom explains.

“Unfortunately, Senator, I no longer work undercover. I’m an Avenger now.” You say firmly. 

“Santi.” Fury starts. 

“No, Nick.” You look him in the eye. “No. This was the deal. I was out of deep cover ops.”

“It won’t be that long. Not like the last time.” Hill says. 

“You have no idea how long it will be. It could take a week and it could take a year. If Vincent doesn’t shoot me on sight.”

“He’s preparing for something big. It’s going to happen soon. We need you, Agent. You’re the only one that can do this.” Senator Bloom pushes. 

It is taking everything in you not to scream and throw a chair. This is a nightmare come true. Going back undercover with a brutal kingpin and having to be her again. She was by far the worst undercover you ever had to embody. Cold, calculating, ruthless, deadly, terrible. She was a psychopath and it nearly broke you being her. She was the second to last op before you pulled out of deep cover. The thought of returning to being Eve made you sick. 

“When do you need my answer?” You say. 

“Now.” Fury states. 

“I’ll give it to you in 24 hours. Grant my team clearance now.” Your voice is steel.

“The Avengers can’t be a part of this. They’re too recognizable.” Senator Bloom says. 

“I didn’t say they'd be a part of it. I said grant them clearance. My team will know what and where I am if I do this. No exceptions.” You stare the Senator down until he looks to Fury. 

“Granted.” Fury states, crossing his arms. 

You pick up the file and exit. Seething, you get back to the jet and head to the tower.

“FRIDAY, alert the team. Meeting, one hour.”

“Yes, Agent Delarosa.”

Everyone is gathered in the conference room. “Thanks, guys.” You say. 

“What’s going on, Santi?” Cap asks. 

“This operation is codeword clearance. Palermo.” You swipe the information on your tablet onto the conference room screen. “This is Vincent Caruso. He’s a weapons dealer for HYDRA. He’s also the cruelest, most sadistic bastard I’ve ever met. I was in deep cover for 19 months as a fellow weapons dealer, Eve Lastra.” You swipe intel photos of you and Vincent onto the screen. Looking at yourself up there, you pause. You hate her. You hate the purple dyed tips of her hair, and the dark makeup, and the cruel person she is. You are sick at the thought of being her again. “The op was botched when the FBI decided to raid a deal. Vincent escaped and I got shot twice for my trouble.” You look at Bucky who is studying you. “I thought Eve was dead. She’s supposed to be dead, but Fury has kept her name active on the west coast and in Canada. Caruso has resurfaced in New York after being abroad for three years. Apparently, he’s planning a deal and they want Eve to get in on it. I have 24 hours to give an answer, but you all know what they expect to hear.”

Nat is the first to speak, “Will Caruso accept you?”

“He was obsessed with me. He’ll either shoot me on sight or begin his obsession anew.” You look at Bucky. 

“What was the relationship?” Bucky’s face is hard. 

“I was the one thing he wanted but couldn’t have. He loved the cat and mouse game. Eve was deadly and dangerous. He loved that about her but also didn’t want to lose his best supplier and favorite entertainment. The op could take a week and it could take months.”

The room is dead silent until you can’t stand it. 

“Guys...help me. I’m scared.” Your voice cracks just a bit and Bucky is out of his chair with arms around you in an instant. You nearly break down in his arms. “I don’t want to be her again. I hate her and he terrifies me. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You don’t have to do this, Doll.” Bucky says but you all know differently. 

“Where do we come in, Santi?” Steve asks. 

“You can’t. I told Fury I’d only consider this if he gave you all clearance to know the op and where I am.” You say. 

“I’ll go with you.” Bucky says, “As a bodyguard.”

“You can’t. People know who you are. You’re all too recognizable. I have to go in alone again.” You are nearing tears.

“Vis could do it.” Wanda states. “They won’t recognize him if he shifts.”

You look over to Vision. “Can you hold it for hours at a time?”

“Days, if needed.” Vision says.

“Would… Would you be willing to do this, Vision? It would mean staying together. Pretending to be lovers so we can keep Vincent off of me. It could be weeks. Months ,even.”

“I would do anything to help you, Santi.” Vision says. You go over and hug the android to you. 

“Thank you, Vision.” You whisper before turning to hug Wanda also. Once you have let go of Wanda, you turn to the rest of the team. “This could work. We just have to convince Fury.”

Cap takes control of the situation then. “Okay. Everyone take two hours to familiarize yourself with the file. Meet back here to go over everything and come up with a plan. You won’t be doing this alone, Santi. That’s why you have a team now.”

Everyone disbands and Bucky drags you to his room. As soon as the door is closed he crushes you to him. You wrap yourself around him and begin to sob. Bucky picks you up, carries you to the bed, and holds you in his lap as you cry. You let your fear and anxiety out through the tears. 

“I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to. I don’t want to be separated from you.” You cry. 

“I know. I know, Doll. It’s okay.” Bucky soothes as he rubs your back. 

Once the torrent abates you sit up and look at Bucky. “Being her… it was awful. She’s terrible and cruel and it’s me.”

“It’s not you. It’s her. It’s who you had to be for the mission.” Bucky says.

“I killed someone to gain his trust. One of my lieutenants. She got sloppy. Nearly screwed a delivery. He gave me a choice, her or the business. I killed her in front of him. That’s when Vincent’s obsession started. He wanted her and she denied him. One of the few who ever did. I’m scared of what he might do, Bucky.”

“You’ll have Vision this time. He’ll protect you. Just as I’d protect Wanda if it was the other way around. You have a team to help this time. Even if we can’t be together. We’ll be here. Waiting for you to come home. And if he touches you, I’ll kill him.”

“I love you.” You cling to him again and he holds you. 

“I love you, too, Doll. Nothing's gonna change that. Nothing.”

Two hours later, the team met to go over everything. Plans are set into place. Contingencies made. Hours later, Wanda and Nat help you bleach the tips of your hair and then dye them purple. You spend a couple of hours with Vision going over everything and preparing him. 

“Eve is a bitch. She has no chill and no heart. You need to be prepared to see me as her. She’s handsy. And for you to be her lover you’ll have to be a strong presence but still submissive to her. She’s a dominant in everything. She has to have control and will take it any way she can get it. You shouldn't hesitate to touch me or be familiar. I’m going to start acting like her when we are alone together so you can get used to it. Okay?”

“Whatever you think is necessary.” Vision says. He had morphed and was handsome with his blond hair and blue eyes.

“Victor Shade.” You smile at Vision’s new alias and then slip into the persona of Eve. A diluted form of her. “Well, Victor, an old friend of mine has resurfaced. Vincent Caruso. You’ll help me welcome him back to the states, won’t you?” As you say this, you slip from your chair to sit in Vision’s lap with your arms around his neck. 

“Absolutely, darling.” Vision easily slips into character and uses one hand to caress your hip. 

“He’s going to want to kill you.” You smile wickedly. “He’ll want to take your place. You won’t let him, though. Right, Victor?” You bring your face close to Visions and he hesitates for just a moment. 

“Of course not. No one else will touch you while I’m around.” Vision smiles at you darkly. 

“Vis? Santi?” Wanda comes in looking wide eyed. 

You tip your head back to look at her before saying, “Who is this bitch and why is she calling you Vic?” You say and then realize that Eve is wanting to take hold. Abruptly, you stand up. “Sorry, Vis, Wanda. We were working in character. You’re gonna be good, Vision. Thank you for doing this. I know it’s not easy.”

“It’s necessary.” Vision says before going to Wanda.

As you go to exit, Wanda stops you. “It’s going to be okay.” She squeezes your hand. “Vis will protect you.”

“I know and I’ll protect him.” You say. “But I was serious, Vision, he will want you dead.”

“I can handle it, Santi.” Vision says. 

“We should start calling each other by our aliases. That way we won’t slip later.” You say even though you hate hearing yourself called Eve. 

“Tomorrow is soon enough.” Vision says and you nod as they leave. 

“FRIDAY, where’s Bucky?” You ask. 

“Sergeant Barnes is on the roof.” the AI reports.

You walk up behind Bucky as he stands near the edge of the roof looking across the skyline. His hair is blowing in the wind and you stop for a minute to admire him in profile. In the three months since you met you have yet to get over how beautiful he is. To you, the man was a study in perfection. You loved him more than you could imagine. The thought of leaving him for any length of time filled you with dread. Even when you were separated for days on missions you were able to communicate usually. This would be a blackout. 

Bucky turns to you. “How long you gonna stand there and stare?”

“As long as it takes to memorize you.” You smile sadly. 

“I have a better place for us to do that.” Bucky captures your mouth desperately and picks you up to cradle you against his chest. Once in your room, you both work to memorize each other knowing it may be your last night together for quite some time. 

Part 7

[breanime]

Belonging

Here’s an unprompted Jax Teller oneshot because why not?! Haha! Based on this post from @whumpster-dumpster--I LOVED this prompt!

Warning: mentions of physical assault, mild violence

*gif not mine*

Jax woke up to the sound of his phone ringing and pounding on his door. He grabbed his phone, squinting against the brightness, and saw that it was you. Normally, he’d be glad to see that you were calling—the two of you had started sleeping together a month ago, but he’d known you for a lot longer. He liked sleeping with you—more than liked it, he was addicted—but he liked talking with you, too. You were patient and insightful and accepting of him in ways he’d never experienced before. In all honesty, the only reason Jax hadn’t pushed for more than fuck buddies with you was because he didn’t think he deserved you. He was posed to answer the phone when the knocking on his door got louder. Grunting, he got up, threw on the jeans he’d thrown on the floor when he got home, tucked his phone in his pocket, and went to the door.

Whoever was pounding on his front door at 3 in the morning better be ready for one pissed off biker. His phone was still vibrating in his pocket, and Jax decided to be extra harsh with the intruder because they were screwing up potential nookie with you.

Shirtless, operating on less than two hours of sleep, and irritated, Jax stomped over and yanked his door open, not even bothering to look who it was.

It was you.

His eyes widened and his heart stopped. Your lip was bleeding, you had tears streaming down your cheeks, and your hair was mussed and messy. You were shaking, and Jax knew it had nothing to do with the California heat. He stepped up to you, breathing heavily, eyes memorizing every bump and bruise he could see, from your swollen cheek to the scratches on your arms. You didn’t flinch when he put his hand, careful and soft, on your chin. Jax tilted your head, getting a better look at you, feeling his anger rise with each glance. He stuck his thumb out, delicately wiping away the blood on your bottom lip, and he knew he’d be seeing that shade of red in his dreams for nights after this. He was so close to you, he could feel your trembling body, could almost feel your nervous heartbeat, could feel the traces of fear surrounding you. He hoped you could feel his sorrow, his anger, in return. He needed you to know that he would do anything to make sure nothing like this ever happened to you again.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet, barely even audible over the wind and crickets chirping in the distance, but Jax knew you’d hear him. “Who did this to you?”

Your voice was a whisper, but Jax heard you perfectly. “Guy at the bar,” you answered, “I don’t even know his name. He hit on me, and I blew him off.” Jax’s hand was still on your face, and he wiped your tears as they fell. “He was waiting by my car when I got off. He attacked me.”

Jax’s free hand twitched. He wanted a name, a face to bury his fist in. “Did he…?”

“He groped me,” you said, answering his unasked question, “He called me every name in the book, but he was too busy beating my ass to—”

Jax pulled you to him, as gently as he could, and hugged you. You cried into his chest, sobbing as he held you. Jax closed his eyes, too angry to speak, and rubbed your back. You’d been working at the bar for three years now, had dealt with your share of asshole guys, but you’d never been attacked before. “Come on,” he whispered. He led you to his room and sat you on his bed. Silently, he helped you out of your clothes and into one of his shirts. He went to the bathroom and grabbed a wet towel, dapping at your lip with one hand and holding an ice pack in the other. After he’d cleaned you up, he pressed the ice pack to your face, covering your cheek and lip, and replaced his hand with his own. “I gotta make a call,” he said, standing. He bent down and kissed the top of your head. “Be right back.”

When he got back, you were under the covers, sitting with your knees pulled up to your chest. The sight made him want to kill someone.

“He paid with a card,” you said, eyes unfocused as Jax stripped down in front of you, “Kept a tab open all night. I think he told me his name, I just didn’t pay any attention…”

Jax climbed into bed with you, and you turned to him, melting into his arms easily. He laid down, mindful of your bruises and aches, and placed your head on his chest. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, voice muffled as he spoke into your hair, “I’m on it.”

You looked up at him, your pretty eyes sad, the cut dark on your sweet lips. “What does that mean?”

“I called the guys,” he said. Jax could never lie to you; you were so open and supportive of him, it was easy to just tell you the truth. It was one of the things that made being around you so dangerous for him. He was more than used to your questioning, he wanted it. He liked it. “Tig, Chibs, Op, and Juice went to the bar. They’re gonna call me back with a name and address.”

“And then what? Will you kill him?” You asked the question casually, as if you were asking about a new set of tires.

“Do you want me to?” He asked back. He wanted to. He definitely wanted to.

You thought about it for a second. “If you kill him,” you asked slowly, “would it blow back on you?”

“Depends,” he answered, hand trailing up and down your arm, “But I don’t mind.” He looked into your eyes, still wet from crying, and wanted nothing more than to hold you like this, safe in his arms, for the rest of his life. “I would do anything for you.”

You looked back into his eyes, fearless and fragile, and gave him one simple command. “Kiss me.”

You slept like a rock all night, curled up in Jax’s arms. You felt him kiss you in your sleep, soft and firm against your swollen cheek, warm lips on your forehead, a welcomed pressure on the crown of your head as you dreamt of nothing. You heard him whisper “be back in a few” at one point, but when you woke up, he was back in bed with you.

“Where’d you go?” You asked, secure in his arms once more.

Jax gave you a soft smile, looking like an angel in the morning light, blonde hair splayed out on the pillow, blue eyes shining. A quick glance at his knuckles showed bruises; he’d worked someone over pretty good from the looks of it. “Took care of that asshole from last night,” he said, “You don’t have anything to worry about. He won’t be bothering you again.”

“Hm…” You kissed him, smiling against his lips. “Do I want to know?”

“We didn’t kill him,” he shrugged, “I wanted to, but the guys thought it’d be good to just teach him a lesson.” He wrapped you in his arms and rolled you onto him so that he could feel your body on his, and more importantly, so you could feel him and know that you were safe. “But between me, Tig, and Op,” he went on, “I guarantee he won’t be showing his face around here again.”

You nodded. You didn’t need to know the details, hearing that was enough to put your mind at ease. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Last night… When I said I’d do anything for you, I meant it.” He put his hand under your—his—shirt, on your bare back. You were warm to the touch, and you fit perfectly against him. You were made for him, and vice versa. “I talked to your boss, convinced him to hire some actual security instead of that old dude with the beer gut,” he said, “Got some time off from the club to take care of you,” he grinned at the surprised look on your face, “I make an excellent nurse.”

“You don’t have to,” you said, “I know you’re busy.”

“Hey,” his voice was soft, but commanding, the prince of Charming, “I’m never too busy for you. Never.” He put two fingers under your chin, muscle memory bringing up the feel of you shaking in his grasp a few hours ago. “You mean too much to me.”

You smiled. You didn’t say anything; you didn’t need to. Instead, you leaned up and pressed your lips to Jax’s again, saying all that you needed to. He got the message loud and clear. He kissed you back softly, careful of your bruises, leaving small pecks after each long kiss, physically incapable of stopping himself from kissing you. Ever careful, Jax rolled you over so he was on top of you, lips still on yours.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him even closer, and you sighed into his mouth. “Jax,” you whispered, shimming your hips as he pulled your panties down, “what…what does this mean? For us?” You asked.

“It means you’re mine,” he answered, tongue flicking over your busted lip, “and nobody messes with my girl.”

Jax felt your smile on his lips, and you giggled as his hands roamed your body freely, caressing you softly. You spent the rest of the day in his arms, rolling around in his bed, whispering, gasping, and eventually screaming his name as he showed you just what it meant to be his.

A few days later, when you went back to work, there were three security guards—two on the floor and one at the exit—and your boss practically dropped on his knees to beg your forgiveness for “letting you get hurt” (he was talking, but you heard Jax’s voice in his words). Jax picked you up at the end of your shift, and though you knew he wouldn’t be able to do that all the time, you were glad to see him. You hoped on the back of his bike after greeting him with a kiss, ready to go, but he stopped you.

“I got something for the bar,” he said, digging in his jacket. He turned to you, a wide grin on his handsome face, and handed you a rolled-up poster.

You unwrapped it and let out a surprised laugh. It was the picture of the guy from that night, the one who attacked you, and he looked way worse than you ever did. One of his eyes was swollen shut, his nose was broken, his lip was fat and there was blood all over his face. Scrawled on the top of the poster was a simple message written in black ink: Mess with my girl, mess with ANY of the girls, this happens to you. Fair warning. “Jesus, Jax,” you said, shaking your head with a smile.

Jax kissed your cheek. “Thought you could hang it up behind the bar,” he said cheerfully, “As a reminder.”

“Sure,” you agreed, letting Jax help you off his bike. He put a hand around your waist and walked back up to the bar with you. “So, is this what it’s gonna be now?” You asked, grinning. “ ‘My girl’ this and ‘don’t fuck with her’ that?”

“Absolutely,” he said back, “you’re mine and everyone needs to know it.”

You looked at the poster and then back up at your man. You felt eyes on you as you walked in with him on your arm, and your grin widened. You were his.

He was yours.

And everyone fucking knew it.

You watched, proud and amused, as Jax put up the poster to uproarious applause, and felt your heart skip a beat when he turned back and smiled at you. Jax hopped down form the bar and kissed you, deep and slow, and you left with no question of who you belonged to.

You were made to be his, and he was made to be yours; your badass biker boy.

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

I hope you liked this! Please let me know what you think! Comments are always appreciated! Also, let me know if you want this prompt with a different character, because I AM WILLING. 

Jax Teller Taglist: @nich0lasmatthews @melissataggart87 @jaxteller87 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes 

Taglist: @lexxierave @loveintheroyalfamily @suchatinyinfinity@fanfictionrecommendations-com  @maxslime-blog @elanor-of-imladris@songforhema @lucielandss @fandomlifeandeverythingelse @themadhatter92@realduckvader @the-blind-assassin-12 @christinawxxx @anabella-baby @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @luminex3 @littlemermaidprobz @ashkuuuu@luckysstrikes @carlaangel86 @floralpeaceofmind @dylanobrusso@teacuplotus @iaintnofurry @thesumofmychoices @ymariejp @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @mrsjaxtellerfan @whovianayesha @holamor @drinix @rhabakoli @stories-you-wont-hear @king4thesirens @bellamys @marauderskeeper @charlylama @thesandbeneathmytoes @gollyderek @something-tofightfor @banditthewriter  @binbons-is-theloml 

[rwby-party]

Fair Game Week, March 21st: Atlas Ball/Mantle Battle

- "Come on Uncle Qrow! You know you're having fun!" Ruby excitedly bounced in front of her uncle as she spoke, she and him dawning matching tuxedos. Their jackets had long tails, they both had a red bow-tie on, but while Qrow had pants on, Ruby had a matching skirt. "If you call 'Babysitting and watching a bunch of kids attempt to flirt and dance' fun, then I suppose your right, Pipsqueak." Qrow chuckled. They both glanced over to Yang and Blake. Yang was trying to teach Blake how to do the Cowboy Boogie to no avail, they both laughing at Blake's failed attempts. Yang mentioned something about her having two left feet when she attempted to teach her again. Qrow and Ruby looked back at each other, Qrow raising an eyebrow at her indignantly. He smirked. "Okay, you're right." Ruby said defeated.

Qrow put his hand on Ruby's head and ruffled her hair, chuckling. "Hey! Stop that!" Ruby pushed his hand off and started messing with her hair. "You'll mess up my 'do." Qrow smiled at her. "Alright, I'll stop." He stuck his tongue out at her. Qrow started to take a few steps before Ruby stopped him. "I'm sorry you're not having fun, Uncle Qrow." "Don't be sorry." He looked at her with a gentle expression. "I'm teasing ya, Ruby. I always have fun with you. I'm just not the 'Ball' type." She smiled at him as the DJ's voice rang up on the intercom. "Right after this song wraps up, we'll be playing our first slow song of the night!" Ruby jolted upwards. "Oh my gosh! Hold on Uncle Qrow, I gotta find Penny!" Before Qrow could respond, Ruby had darted past him in a flurry of petals. He smiled and chuckled to himself as he walked over to a wall and leaned against it. He watched and was entertained as Ruby tried to explain to Penny what slow dancing was. As he slid down to a sitting position, he saw someone approaching him. "Your nieces are something else." A familiar voice called. "They sure are." Qrow beamed as he continued to talk. "Have a seat, Clover. Let's chat." He looked up as he patted the ground beside him. "I'm afraid I can't sit down, friend." Clover smiled as he looked down. He was in a tuxedo himself, wearing a green vest with a pale spring green dress shirt underneath. His badge was pinned on his coat, the green of the pendant matching the tie he picked out. The rest of the Ace Ops stood behind him, close enough to be noticeable but not enough to hear their conversation. They were all decked out in various formal wear.     Qrow noticed them behind Clover. "Ah. Got some Ace Op secret business stuff. Got it." "No, actually." He waved a hand and shooed them off. Elm smiled and winked at him, giving him a thumbs up. Marrow groaned and rolled his eyes as they walked off, acting irritated but his tail was wagging. The flashing lights of the dance room started to dim. Strobe lights stopped flashing, spot lights stopped swinging, and the atmosphere of the room changed. "I was wondering if I could get you to stand too." Qrow tilted his head at him, confused. "...What? Sure, but why?" Qrow's heart skipped a beat as the music faded, he realizing what Clover was about to do. The DJ's voice boomed over the intercom as Qrow got up to his feet. "Up next is our slow song! Make sure you grab a partner to dance with!" Clover extended his hand towards Qrow, he brushing against his pendant in the process. "Qrow, Would you care to join me for a dance?" 'I-Uh." Qrow rubbed the back of his neck. "Sure. Yeah." Clover smiled brightly as Qrow took his hand. He pulled him closer to him. Qrow placed one of his hands on Clover's shoulders as Clover placed one around Qrow's waist. They grabbed the other's free hands and interlocked them, starting to rock back and forth in rhythm. Hush your cries. Close your eyes. Stay with me. Let's just dream, Quietly, Of what might be. Qrow let go of Clover's hand, putting it on his other shoulder. Clover put his other hand on Qrow's waist. Qrow's heart started to beat heavy as his pulse raised. Calm your fear. I'll be near. To you, I'll cling. Rest my friend. Time can mend Many things. Ruby bumped into Qrow while dancing with Penny. He looked at her confused. She gave him an embarrassed smile and meekly waved as Penny tugged her in the opposite direction, Ruby yelping. I don't know the answers. Tomorrow's still unknown. But I can make this promise; You won't be alone. Qrow took in a deep breath. I don't know where we should go. Just feeling farther from our goal. I don't know what path we will be shown, But I know that when I'm with you I'm at home. Yes, I know that when I'm with you I'm at home. As Qrow and Clover swayed back and forth, Yang tapped him on the shoulder as she was dancing with Blake. When Qrow looked at her, she smirked and winked at him, giving him a thumbs up. Blake smiled shyly at him. Qrow's face lit up red before he looked away, hoping Clover didn't notice. He heard Clover softly singing along as they danced. There's a quiet place In my embrace. A haven of safety where I'll dry your tears. Shelter here, In my care. Qrow leaned into Clover's neck, resting his head on his chest. Clover gasped in surprise, but pulled him in closer and wrapped his arms around him, still rocking back and forth and continuing to sing. But even when we stumble, And someday when we fall. What I will remember, That I had you through it all. Qrow squeezed Clover tightly. Clover placed one of his hands on the back of Qrow's head. I don't know where we should go. Just feeling farther from our goal. I don't know what path we will be shown, But I know that when I'm with you I'm at home. Yes, I know that when I'm with you I'm at home. Qrow started to hum along. Yes, I know that when I'm with you I'm at home. Silence filled the room when the song ended, Clover and Qrow still holding their embrace. What felt like hours passed by before they moved out of each other's grasp to find that they were in the middle of the dance floor. The Ace Ops, James Ironwood, Team RWBY and ORNJ were all watching them. Clover looked at Qrow and smiled as Qrow blushed. He cleared his throat nervously. "T-Thank you for the dance, Qrow." "Yeah, you too." There was an awkward pause. "I have to go now. I've got some... Super Secret Ace Op duties to take care of." He nervously chuckled as he walked towards the rest of the Ace ops. James couldn't help but laugh as he watched Clover talking with Elm with a bright red face, Elm beaming with energy and excitement as she talks with him. Ruby slowly slinked towards Qrow, standing beside him. She bumped her elbow against his side a few times. "Are you sure you're not the 'ball'' type, Uncle Qrow?" "I guess not, Kiddo." Qrow was chuckling as he spoke, looking over and smiling at her as his face went flush.  

-

You should really listen to the song while reading LOL Hi while writing this my brain came up with the lovely headcanon that even though Clover can flirt like no other he's like super nervous and dorky about things if it starts to get serious between him and whoever he's flirting with. Also that Elm and Yang are the biggest Fair game shippers but that is kinda fanon already lol This is kinda supposed to be before everything went to hell and a hand basket in Volume 7. I like to imagine that Ironwood organized a ball for them to have fun. (That's why no one else is there.) But didn't expect Clover to end up having a crush on Qrow LOL Also, have a failed sketch that was originally supposed to be in this slot: https://sta.sh/0107dtzehpgq

Maybe I’ll get to it some day...

Enjoy. :)

[things2mustdo]

I doubt anyone needs to be reminded that the media is rotten to the core; even the most reluctant and closed-minded people are accepting this as a given now. But despite the media being widely condemned nowadays (my special thanks to Germans for bringing the word “Lügenpresse” back), few people know or understand what’s really going on in the journalistic kitchens, where the foul slop of lies that people are fed every day is cooked up. However, there is always a way in—through purposeful infiltration or, in my case, by accident.

I have an old friend—let’s call him Sven—whom I always knew as a kind-hearted and sincere man. However, these traits are also coupled with always assuming the best of people and being rather naive. Due to this, he keeps ending up in awkward and sometimes dangerous situations. One of them turned out to be a short stint as a journalist for a popular online newspaper. He barely maintained contact during his employment and eventually went completely off the grid. In about a month, he resurfaced a changed man, and not for the better. As he explained, he quit the job and then shut himself in for a while, armed with nothing but alcohol, to cope with the depression working as a journalist gave him.

Now, this probably sounds very soft to many of you, including myself. Men don’t sink into depressions or try to drink themselves out of problems. While I granted my friend the clemency of explaining his failures to him, I also recognized the usefulness of his experience and started questioning him about what he saw and heard at the job. I will relay his findings below; however, I will not disclose his true name or the name of his employer—given the “free” country we live in, this can land him in very hot water.

Whoever pays you, owns you

Sven joined the ranks of journalists to tell people the truth. To his credit, he believed he would be doing exactly that. His first assignment sounded so simple, after all—talk to a person, record the conversation, write an article, publish it. The reality turned out to be diametrically different—after our fresh-baked journalist returned from his first interview, he was immediately ordered to transcribe the recording and email it to the content manager. Half an hour later Sven received a heavily edited version of the transcript, with the parts he considered most crucial replaced with meaningless buzzwords or removed completely. When he went to the manager to voice his indignation, the manager simply replied: “This man did not pay us for an article that would disparage him. Get back to your desk.”

This was far from the only case of Sven witnessing how much pull money has in journalism. His numerous colleagues almost never produced independent content—they were too busy publishing one paid article after another. When Sven asked whether these articles should be marked as sponsored, the only reply he got was a bitter laugh. Very often the content manager would come over to his desk and say something along the lines of “Do you know the guy you are writing about is a close friend of our boss? Do not screw this article up.” Sven was also surprised to see that many interviewees (usually politicians) would not even bother to talk to him, instead referring him to their secretaries or assistants. One of them even went as far as to hand him a pre-written speech, tell him to work with it and walk away.

However, our Sven also happens to possess a burning sense of justice, which has several times led him to ignore the “recommendations” his content manager gave him, deviate from the official story and allow small snippets of truth to make their way into public view. For each of such occurrences he was called to the manager’s room, given a strict admonishment and had his paycheck for the month reduced. Any “unsanctioned” things that he wrote were quickly edited away afterwards—even if the article had already been read by thousands of people. And his was supposed to be a “neutral and objective” media outlet!

Standards? Never heard of ’em.

It was a big shock for Sven when he finally realized that his employers were beings without conscience who whored themselves out to the highest bidder. It was an even bigger shock when he discovered how nonchalantly his colleagues treated their responsibilities. Investigative journalists relied on information they got from Google searches and Twitter posts, editors and sub-editors used rumors and hearsay to write scathing op-eds, website managers just posted any content that caught their fancy as long as they could come up with a flashy enough headline for it to attract people. Fact-checking was almost unheard of, unless someone specifically paid for it.

When it came to choosing topics and writing articles, the guideline for the entire establishment was simple: do not make the people angry. Not the regular people, mind you—those were not even considered human beings, just a faceless mass that one threw articles at and got pageviews and money in return. No, the label “people” was reserved for people who mattered. This included representatives of the powers that be, well-known public figures, moneybags with fingers in the political pie and, of course, personal buddies of the outlet’s owner.

These were to be protected, coddled and praised at all costs, while everyone else was fair game. Needless to say, politics held as much sway in the outlet as money did—whenever something noteworthy happened, “protectors of truth and objectivity” immediately went to work spinning the events in a way desirable for those holding their leashes. Hit pieces against political opponents and undesirables were churned out, smokescreens were cast, facts were omitted, denied and misinterpreted. Sven confessed to me later that the day his outlet covered the parliamentary elections was the first day in his life when he spent the entire evening drinking. Journalistic ethics, a term that the media loves throwing left and right, turned out to be nothing but hot air.

In the media omelet, you are an egg

The title says it all. For top dogs in the media business, a rank-and-file worker is not just a pawn—he is a condom. Contrary to what many people think, a typical journalist’s existence is quite pathetic: underpaid, undervalued, thankless and constantly bossed around. Staff turnover in the “kitchen” is very high, and not because people are getting promoted. In this field, the term “veteran employee” frequently means a poor sod who has no alternatives and cannot quit.

According to Sven, plenty of his colleagues worked only for the sake of getting their paycheck, which explains their negligence. Grey faces, pinched mouths, shifty eyes and sour attitudes—whatever it takes to get through the day. In addition, the higher-ups avoided any responsibility for the published content: whenever an angry reader called the office and complained about an article, the guy who wrote it was immediately thrown under the bus, even if his work was reviewed and approved by the management before publication. After all, what does it take to find another office drone with half-decent writing skills?

However, Sven also describes those of his coworkers who enjoyed their job. They arrived at the office with a spring in their step, a smile snaking across their faces and a mischievous glint in their eyes. These were the “talented” favorites of the outlet’s boss—unfeeling, cold assholes who would sell their own mothers for a juicy piece of gossip that they would later smear all over the website. Whenever they got a chance to write a hit piece, spread a nasty rumor or ruin someone’s life, one could almost see them light up from within. Remember all these smug, holier-than-thou, oh-so-intellectual articles churned out by rags like Salon, Dagens Nyheter and Huffington Post? You can bet your pinky finger they were (and are) written by these people. Which brings us to the next topic.

No wrongthink allowed

As you have probably noticed long ago, the media field is a huge and accommodating Petri dish for all varieties of Kulturbolschewismus. In Sven’s case, it wasn’t just a fear-based company policy of snitching and self-censorship, but an actual agenda at work. He told me there was a flowchart hanging in the newsroom explaining what to do when reporting crimes and incidents. It went something like this: “Was the perpetrator native (white)? Y = report in detail, amplify, N = gloss the details over, downplay.”

Sven wrote an article about a national holiday once, but his content manager refused to approve it for publishing due to it being “too patriotic,” advising him instead to “write more inclusively about minorities’ participation in the festival.” Anything praising the country and its indigenous inhabitants was undesirable and omitted whenever possible, while any piece that brimmed with self-hate, praised inhabitants of other (read: African and Muslim) countries or attacked the natives and their way of life was a big hit and flew through approval like a bird.

Needless to say, the outlet’s newsroom was crammed full of women, their pet cucks and, of course, Jews. The former enjoyed absolute power regardless of their position—a simple complaint to HR was enough to fire anyone, no proof required. The cucks, represented by twig-armed, piercing-laden, wispy-bearded creatures in Che Guevara shirts, were very pleased with the way things were going, sipping lattes and snitching to HR on those who expressed ideas incompatible with the narrative. Jews were in their native element in the newsroom, doing their usual “arrogant intellectual” schtick and getting promotions out of nowhere. The majority of articles bashing natives, their culture and values came from them, as later study of the newspaper’s website showed me.

Liars for hire

So, to sum it all up: the media is not composed of good but misguided people, as many still think. On the contrary, it is a very purposeful and self-aware entity that positions itself somewhere between an unscrupulous opportunist and a loyal lapdog of the state. At best, it is faux-patriotic (“such a wonderful country we have, let’s invite more immigrants!”), while at worst, it is openly hostile towards the indigenous population of the country it exists in.

Moreover, it allows for consolidation and self-affirmation of globalist forces—the traitorous governments, the world Jewry, the multinationals, the entertainment industry and the like—against the increasingly disenfranchised and declining native population. And last but not least, the media is complicit in crimes committed in the West by non-White immigrants due to purposeful obfuscation of them and, if that fails, rabble-rousing to pressure the courts into letting the criminals off scot-free. To me, the latter reason alone is enough to send all the journalists and their owners to the gibbet.

The bottom line is to always remember that the media is not your friend in any way, shape or form, even if its lowest tier operatives fit the description of hapless victims rather than nation-wrecking enemies. The media must be opposed, exposed and boycotted at every turn until it starts bleeding money and choking on its own venom.

Read More: Is Washington Post Writer Adam Taylor A Shill Or Part Of Something Larger?

While reading  Roosh’s article about Adam Taylor and the Washington Post, I noticed quite a few things I would like to share with people here. The direct link between Adam Taylor and the Radio Free excerpt is an anomaly. Such blatant copying is a very rare thing to occur because it gives away a possible collusion between entities.

Looking for these open relationships is long and hard. The better way to analyze  the relations and motivations of certain publishers, policy makers and other manipulators  is to study the various themes they put out and where these themes repeat. While Roosh  might assume that Adam Taylor is the paid shill by himself, I’ve noticed that his writing changes to whoever publishes it. Therefore the Washington Post Worldviews section may be the one that is parroting US State Department themes not just Adam Taylor.

As is shown in Roosh’s article, the similarities between Adam Taylor’s piece and Radio Free Europe are quite telling. It is a possibility that it is a coincidence but a small one. People that try to influence public opinion go to great lengths to ensure things like this do not happen which is why I’m assuming that Adam Taylor is  part of larger machine and not a shill by himself.

Looking back at Adam Taylor’s writing for the Huffington Post, he wrote fluff pieces about gay dogs and other mass consumption items for that audience. His writing about geopolitical intrigue only takes the current form when he begins writing for the Washington Post. All his articles are the Who’s Who of what the US State Department doesn’t like. The roster includes Russia, China, Venezuela, Syria, and Zimbabwe. He writes nothing critical of any American allies.

Could this mean that his change in format indicate that someone turned him? I doubt it. Compare his work at the Washington Post to the rest of the “world views” section there, his writing is merely a contribution to a giant echo chamber and not unique to him.

As I said earlier, it’s very rare for open evidence of collusion such as the similar quotations to present themselves. A better technique to discern propaganda and collusion is to analyze trends and themes.You should look for such things as what the work attempts to convey, does it try to get you to think or act in a certain way, and does it try to get you to disregard other things.

In the Adam Taylor case, the pattern changes significantly from the Huffington Post to the Washington Post. You can also apply this trend analysis to pretty much any author. You can even apply to the contributors here at  Return of Kings and see what you get. Do the trends indicate that the publisher may dictate what the writers write about? Do the trends indicate whether or not the writers have freedom to write about whatever they want? To help you readers out on this exercise I’ll inform you there were two articles I did at the direction of the publisher. They were my article for fat shaming week and my article for #backtothekitchen.  Feel free to comment on any other trends you might notice and if they do not line up with the “about” page.

[yandere-oppai]

Not a Kid (pt.1)

Fandom: Young Justice: Outsiders

Relationship: Yandere! Brion x Fem! Reader

Summary: Brion is coming to terms with being in a new place with new people. He may try and take the reader's help as something more.

Word Count:  2208

Note: Not Beta Read

God I love young Justice

---------

You’d been an official-unofficial member of the Justice league Covert Ops Unit (JLCOU) since it was first established. You were around the age of thirteen when you’d accidentally stumbled upon the fact that “Megan” was actually M’gann. You’d simply saw her shapeshift into her classic green skin while she was rushing out of the school. Chances are, to go on a sudden mission that needed taken care of.

That’d taken away a lot of the awkwardness and tension new teenage friendships have and brought you two closer. Since then it was normal for you to pop up at whatever base they were stationed at and just chill with whoever was there. They’d eventually trusted you enough to keep quiet about their hidden activities. And you would never do anything to endanger their trust. Especially not Superboy’s, he kinda scared you when he went into one of his rages. Over the years the team had gone through multiple changes that occurred from both gaining and losing members. You’d always make sure that they knew you were an ally and there if anyone needed a shoulder to cry on. You have this strong theory that your normalness brings some comfort to their abnormal lives.

Even with some years under your belt of dealing with Superpowered teams, you never got to bare witness to any of the members being forcefully brought into the field. It was more so that some tragedy gave them a nudge to pursue crime-fighting. So when Brion, Violet, and forager came into your life it was a no-brainer that you would coddle them. More so Brion because he wasn’t as curious about the world around his considering it wasn’t as “foreign” to him compared to others. He needed a rock to give him an anchor in his time of need. However, it wasn’t an easy time getting him to open up.

“Brion, you didn’t come to dinner so I brought you a plate,” you said stepping out onto the back porch. He was training again, trying to completely control his powers in an accelerated amount of time.

He continued to ignore you. Choosing to focus on the poor tree he’s been targeting for the past hour. You placed the wrapped food onto the outdoor table and sat on the stairs facing the backyard. He fired off a few more inaccurate shots before letting out a frustrated scream. You chuckled a bit at his childish antics.

“You know, Rome wasn’t built in a day. You only got your suit a week ago. Maybe try to pace yourself,” you called out from behind him. He whipped around to glare directly at your form.

“If this is another one of Nightwing’s “patience is virtue” speeches, my head may just split open,” he groaned.

“Maybe those speeches have some weight behind them. You ever think about that?” You asked him is a teasing tone. You earned an angry grunt as he finally chose to fully face you.

“Sure you’d say that! All you do is hang around the heroes! Never actually knowing what it’s like being in the crossfire!” He yelled at you. It didn’t really faze you though. You know that a majority of his anger was coming from teenage angst and a feeling of Monachopsis.

“I think it’s because I “hang out” with my friends, that I know more about the hero lifestyle,” You grinned back at his fuming face.

It took a while to break his hard exterior. It was only after the team’s violent encounter with Lobo that you’d manage to make some ground. He’d been knocked around pretty good compared to the others. So after making sure that Violet was completely healed up, you moved on to him. At first, he refused your help. Stating that he was completely fine. You had to threaten with exemption from the next mission if he didn’t have his wounds looked over. You were BFF’s with the original team. It was common sense that your words held some weight. He huffed and puffed but sat down as you treated his injuries. That same night as you sat applying ointment to his scratches, he couldn’t help but to slightly lean into your touch. Enjoying the small form of comfort. It put you in a good mood for the next week.

From there anytime you stopped at M’gann’s house you check in on the boy. Making sure he was okay and integrating into his new life. Slowly he began to open up to you. Familiarly referring to you and talking to you unprompted. Even coming to you when he was having trouble. When he was frustrated by the fact that no one was telling him anything about his sister or country. Or maybe when he just wanted someone to talk to. You didn’t mind him seeing you as a friend. That’s what made you so approachable. But maybe you should’ve drawn the line out somewhere.

When the team moved in with the rest of the Outsiders your visited had become less frequent with the teens. You felt bad, but with being an adult it couldn’t be helped. Going to M’gann and Superboy’s place had already been out of your way. Traveling to the city to see the kids frequently would just exhaust you further. You didn’t want them to see you with anything less than a smile. So when Doctor Helga asked for someone to stay in the building with the kids for a night, you jumped at the opportunity. After all, it’s been almost a month since you’ve seen them. It was fun spending time with the larger group and seeing Garfield again. So much so that you involuntarily took time away from Brion.

He stared, trying to hide the fact that he was pissed. They were crowding around his girlfriend, making it almost impossible for you to talk to him. Especially the green boy. Big deal, he could transform into animals. Brion was able to literally turn his surroundings into lava. If anything his power was more flashy. Plus his green skin just looked stupid.

“Brion, are you okay? You have smoke coming from….well all over your body,” Violet pointed out. Which caused the surrounding teens and adult to turn and look at him. He blushed from your eyes staring at him so suddenly. He bolted up out of his seat at the invasion.

“I...I am just not feeling well. I’m going to rest in my room for now,” he said before hurriedly making his way upstairs.

“Tell me if you’re feeling any better!” You called out after him.

“I will!” He called back before shutting his door.

He laid in bed, irritated beyond words. You don’t come to visit him for a good month (which feels like forever). And when you finally do come around, it’s not to see him specifically. When he first came to America he’d thought his life was over. What’s worse than being exiled from your own land? Then he saw you, a gorgeous mature woman who’s looks enraptured him. Your glossy (h/l)(h/c) hair that complimented your kind (e/c) eyes just hooked him. He’d thought he was smitten before, but as soon as he saw the personality that went with the looks, he’d completely fallen for you. Sure he acted cold at first, but that was his childish way of roping you into thinking of him. After months of (in his eyes was) flirting and having a slow burn love story, it seemed like you were starting to go cold. He couldn’t let that happened. Maybe it was time to finally put a label on what you two had.

He waited until night fell and his teammates were either asleep or on a mission. As soon as he heard you were coming over he made sure to avoid getting saddled with any distractions. When he peaked out of his room he peeked over the balcony to see you sitting on the couch, with some random movie on the screen. He smiled from seeing you cute formed bundled up in a blanket, before making his way down. The sound of footsteps made you glance over at him.

“I know you just woke up, but a shirt could really prevent you from getting a cold,” you said before flicking your eyes back at the screen. He jumped over the back of the couch and seated himself next to you.

“It is nice to not wear such restrictive clothing sometimes. You should try it sometimes,” he winked. Which didn’t go unnoticed by you. “So what are you watching?”

“MFKZ, I think it’s called,” a glance out of the corner of your eye saw that he was incredibly close to you. As close as he could be without touching you. You chuckled nervously. “You do know the couch is longer than two feet, right Brion?”

“I am aware, but it is very cold. And you’ve warmed up this side of the couch,” he countered.

You didn’t feel the need to ask him much else, too curious to see what exactly he was up to. You continued to sit and watch the movie, only half paying attention. Brion slowly inched his way closer as the movie drew on. Even going as far as to drape his arm over the back of the couch you were seated at. Anyone could see the silent distress that was present on your face if the lights were on. You had to cut things short when he began to run his hand up your exposed thigh.

“Wait, wait, wait!” You squeaked out, grabbing his hand. “Brion, what exactly do you think you’re doing!?”

“I was only trying to...uh...set the mood,” he said with a confused look on his face. As if he thought you were the wrong one for reacting negatively. Like you didn’t like him back.

“Look, Brion,” you stared, placing his hand back on his own lap. “You are in an incredibly vulnerable state right now. Tera’s back, you’ve just joined the Outsiders, and you’re worried about going back to your home. I can understand that you want someone to be a constant in your changing world….and I can’t be that someone.”

“Well, why not!” his tone elevated as he leaned forward. You couldn’t help but flinch back at this.

“Brion, it should be obvious. I’m an adult and you’re still a teen. Even if there was the slim chance that I romantically liked you, I’d immediately be sent to jail. That’s taking advantage of a vulnerable minor!” You shot back.

You returned the silent glare that was directed at you. You needed him to understand that this “relationship” would never become a reality. At this point, you didn’t know what was going through the temperamental boy’s mind. But Brion thought he knew what was going through yours. You brought up your respective age groups, so that must be where your worries came from. You were worried about the two of you getting caught. It wasn’t really about the fact that you only saw him as nothing more than a child who needed help. Well, none of that really mattered to him.

Your surprised yelp was muffled by him as we slammed his lips against your own. Instantly you tried to push the kid off. Using your untoned arms to try and push the considerably more muscular youth off of you. Of course, he didn’t budge. In fact, he pushed himself closer to you so that both of your chests were flush against each other. He continued to press his lips against yours, moving them in a clumsy and infrequent Rhythm. Obviously, this had been his first kiss. When your force didn’t work you turned your head to the side, escaping the forced kiss. That only stopped him for so long because he then began to pepper your neck in desperate kisses.

“Brion, stop,” You said in as stern of a voice as you could. He continued to ignore you and carry on with his actions. Only stopping when you’d managed to awkwardly proper your leg up on the couch and shove him away. You immediately stood up from the couch and made sure your back wasn’t towards him.

“Why did you do that?!” He angrily asked. He was smoldering again, not a good sign. If his meta powers activated you’d both be up shit creek.

“Brion I need you to listen to me. You’re angry and confused right now but I need you to calm down,”

“I AM CALM!” He yelled standing up, causing you to flinch. The ground beneath him to heat up more. It was your luck that his yell had disturbed his sister. Making her peak over the railing to see what was with the commotion.

“Brion, (Y/n) is there something wrong?” She called out with a worried gaze. Brion didn’t look up and continued to glare daggers at you. The silence made you even more fearful of the boy’s next actions.

“Nothing sister, I was just going back to bed,” he turned away and made his way back up the stairs. Your eyes following him the whole time.

‘I really need to speak with Dick in the morning’

[tsuki-chibi]

Adrinette April Day 12: Adrien’s Girlfriend

“I’m really sorry.”

Marinette blinked sluggishly at her best friend and struggled to figure out what Alya could be talking about. Her exhausted brain was coming up blank. She shut the bakery door behind her and gave up.

“What?” she asked through a yawn. An akuma had attacked just after midnight last night; she and Chat hadn’t defeated it until after 5am. Three hours of sleep was most definitely not enough.

Alya looked genuinely pained. “This was posted online this morning. I wanted you to hear about it from me.”

She held her phone out. Marinette squinted at the screen, muffling another yawn. At first she couldn’t figure out what it was. Then she saw the headline, realized, and froze.

The photograph was of none other than Adrien Agreste, time-stamped just after 5:30am that morning. He was clearly kissing someone, but all that could be seen of the woman was the curve of her jaw and several strands of her dark hair falling against her purple shirt. The rest of her face and clothing was hidden by Adrien’s body and the awkward angle that the photo had been taken at.

“Adrien has a girlfriend. No one is sure of who she is, but this photo is all over the place and it’s been verified as real,” Alya explained. “I’m so sorry, Marinette.”

“Uh?” Marinette said intelligently, still frozen.

Alya hugged her. “I know. I was shocked too. That sneaky boy! No one had any idea he was dating someone. Wait till I get my hands on him for keeping such a huge secret!”

“You can’t be mad at him for that,” Marinette said.

“Wanna bet? I have to defend your honor, Marinette!” Alya said, letting go.

“My honor? Alya, Adrien is free to date whoever he wants!” Marinette yelled that last bit after Alya’s retreating figure.

“You better fix this,” Tikki said from inside Marinette’s purse. She sounded way too amused, and Marinette spared a second to glare at her purse. Then she took off after Alya, swearing under her breath.

She got to the school just as Adrien’s car was pulling up. Adrien’s bodyguard got out first, which was fortunate because the car was immediately surrounded by their classmates. Alya couldn’t even get close. Adrien emerged second, looking both weary and resigned as he took in the large crowd.

“I guess I’m not the only one who wants to know the identity of the mystery girl,” Alya said, tapping her phone against her chin.

“No, I guess not,” Marinette said with a frown, narrowing her eyes at the crowd.

“We’ll have to get him alone to yell at him later,” Alya decided.

“Alya, for the love of - look at me, would you?” Marinette said, fully exasperated.

Alya turned to her. “What?”

“Notice my new shirt and hairstyle?” Marinette said pointedly, gesturing to her purple shirt. Today, her hair was loose around her shoulders instead of tied into pigtails. So with her opposite hand, she tugged at a dark curl and raised both eyebrows at Alya.

“You... that was YOU?!” Alya shrieked.

Marinette smiled at her. “Excuse me for a moment. I need to collect my partner.”

As Ladybug, Marinette had experience with crowds. She’d long ago learned how to use her elbows to her advantage. She pushed and shoved her way to the front, until she could duck under the bodyguard’s arm and stand right beside Adrien.

“Marinette?” Adrien said, looking uncertain. They hadn’t talked about this. It was all too new to them. They’d barely made it two weeks and that sucked, but thank god whoever had taken that photograph hadn’t been there five minutes beforehand, because then both she and Adrien would really be screwed.

“Wanna give them a photo op that’ll really make them scream?” she asked mischievously, the words spoken softly enough that only his advanced hearing would pick them up over the students. She held out her hand.

Adrien’s eyes widened slightly, and then he smirked with glee. “Absolutely,” he said, and took her hand. Trusting her with everything just like always; she loved him so much it hurt.

Marinette grinned back and pulled sharply. He stumbled towards her. She went with it, catching his waist and half-turning so that she was, essentially, dipping him back like they were dancing. Adrien looked up at her and laughed, one hand now resting lightly on her shoulder. The other touched her hair.

He didn’t have to hold on. They both knew she would never drop him.

Deaf to the sound of the screaming around them, Marinette leaned down and kissed him. He kissed her back, of course, and she could feel his smile.

[ghost-chance]

Our kind of love is:

Chatting online during work breaks entirely in Monty Python GIFS...and understanding each other completely. "NI!" "This? 'Tis but a flesh wound."

Spontaneously glancing at Heiferlump at the same time and sighing in unison.

"How was your day?" "Meh." "Good kind of meh, or bad kind of meh?" "A meh kind of meh." "Ah. I'll throw a pizza in the oven."

Banter. So much frickin' banter. Driving people bananas with the banter.

"That sentence had too many syllables! Apologize!"

Rough day? Pants optional. Bras banned. Grab a butt-pillow and sit on the floor - furniture is for pussies.

"Ugh. These leftovers look like Minion-poisoned-by-nasty-jelly." "Would you rather Mikey-sings-Taps-for-dead-pizza?" "Don't make me go Hawkeye-starts-a-riot-over-spam."

Watching anime and eating cereal in our jammies like grown-ass adults.

"Remind me why I love you?" "I'm a sexy man-beast and I make you laugh." "Oh, right."

Never falling asleep without saying "I love you." Never going separate ways without a hug. Never wondering "is this enough?" without immediately realizing "bitch, please. It's everything."

"WHY ARE YOUR FEET SO FUCKING COLD?!" "Because you won't let me warm them up under your butt. Obviously." 💁

Standing in the aisle on the phone with me to make sure he gets the exact right type, size, and brand of pads. Complains to all nearby men about the injustice of "pussy taxes" just to watch them squirm. Upon return, he creeps past the bedroom, throws chocolate through the door, and runs away cackling. "THE BEAST IS FED!" "You win this time, mortal." 👿

Valentine's day is coming. He notices the date on the calendar. "Nope, you haven't been good enough for flowers. You're getting a dandelion, be thankful." He shows up with a big-ass bouquet of roses...with a dandelion stuck in the middle. It's probably from a sidewalk. It's fucking perfect.

"How did you manage to hurt yourself this time?" "...the fridge is an asshole." "...I'm putting you in a bubble."

One of us pets the cat, the other must also pet the cat. It is the law. 🐈

"Ugh. I don't wanna go to work." "Sorry Sugarbuns, the landlord won't let you bang on da drum all day."

Mutual venting about things that confuse and piss us off so we can somewhat blend in with polite society. "Whoever invented PANTS needs to die!" "Word." "Stanky perfume. What's up with that?" "Duh. It stanks."

Neighbors' impressions: "OMG, they're fighting AGAIN?! Just break up already!" What's actually happening: "HOLYMOTHEROFFRAGGINGFARKNUGGETS! WHAT did you EAT?!" "Heh. Pepperoni."

Good-natured arguing about who has the crazier family. (We both win.)

"Ass." "Butt." "Assbutt." "Supernatural marathon."

Always knowing that no matter what, we've got each other's backs...and one of us is probably about to slip ice down the other's shirt.

"OMG, EW! Why can't you just kiss me on the cheek like a civilized human being? I'm not a graham cracker in kindergarten, you don't have to lick me to keep someone from stealing me!" "But now everyone knows you're mine." 😜

Waking up from a nightmare to find he's already holding me close...and faking sleep because heaven forbid he admit he actually likes cuddling.

Seeking him out when he's been gaming too long, inviting myself into his lap, sprawling out, and staring at him. "Pay attention to me." "My god, you ARE a cat-lady."

So. Many. Freaking. NERD JOKES.

"I hate the world today. Everything sucks and I'm sick of it." "I ordered Chinese." "Things are looking up."

He considers having guests over. I agree. We think about who to call...then drop the idea and watch "Deadpool" in our underwear instead. It's awesome.

"Uh...honey...I screwed up." "...you're grounded from life."

He speaks perfect English; I can't understand him. I've got mush-mouth; he understands every word. How does that work?

"I love Porgs! They're so freaking adorable!" "Eh...no. No Porgs allowed in this house." He gave me a teeny tiny ceramic Porg that very Christmas. ❤

Things we can always count on no matter what: each other, plans going awry, someone lightening a rough situation with humor, and life will always be better together.

"My god you stink." "Well, stay out of my armpit, you won't smell it." "...I'm all the way across the room." "I'm not even home. Your point?"

PUNS result in "That was awful. You should be ashamed."

M*A*S*H marathons. Couch co-op. Board games. Binge-watching NCIS. Debating which actress has the best rack. Insult contests. Tickle-fights over the TV remote. Takeout so I don't poison us by cooking. Too little sleep for a too early day to follow. Best. Day. Ever.

"I can't do this - I just can't do it anymore! Why can't I get words out when I'm around people?! Why can't I just get my brain untangled and TALK?!" "It's not your fault you're wired differently. It's okay." "It's bullshit." "Yep. That's why I don't mind being your voice when you need me." "People suck." "Yes, they do."

So many sexual innuendos in completely nonsexual situations. "There's a hair on my taco." "Well, you say you like'em natural."

Our life is never dull. There are highs, lows, and everything between, but at least we're never bored.

"Love ya, Darlin'." "Love you too...crazy woman." "Ass." "Butt." "Assbutt."

[bitterbeanren]

The best March 17th of my LIFE

My first ever day at Emerald City Comic Con

Scroll to the bottom if you’re only here for my CR cast (sadly incomplete) hug reviews.

So this year, 2019, was the year that I went to ECCC for the first time in my existence. And it was only for one day, but I have a ton of feels. What I’ve written here is incomplete, and just what I can remember, Sunday was a busy day!

I only started getting into Critical Role about a year ago because of posts I saw on this platform and wow, it was really cool. This was after my wonderful month in the hospital and my life-changing trip to Japan. It was mostly something I watched to pass the time, but I am an avid lover of storytelling and of dice collecting so... it stuck with me. Deciding to go to ECCC was kind of a spur of the moment thing that my Partner and I decided to do when looking through the guest list, because most of the CR cast was going to be there, so yeah! Just one day. Hotels are expensive and the 4 day passes were already sold out when we decided to go. And even though I am jobless and stressed and exhausted, it was worth every cent, every minute, and to me the day was everything.

I am a Canadian human, so we woke up hella early to drive to the convention. The plan was to get there, line up to see the vendors, then hurry our booty’s to our photo op, then chill until our autograph sessions and then hopefully check out vendors again before grabbing some dinner. I got to meet someone I befriended on a Fjorester Server (Dunno if I’m allowed to tag them so imma just nott), and they were so nice and cool and their cosplay was very very pretty! So many CR cosplayers let me take pictures with them, and if I’m honest my social energy had started to wear out, but I was having fun (even though I’d forgotten my Tal’dorei campaign book across the border, still kicking myself for that). Since I left behind what I’d wanted to get signed, the hunt was on for something that I loved enough to get autographed. Oh! and I ran into a rl friend of mine and got a couple good hugs so that made me happy and helped recharge my battery a bit.

And then it was Photo Op time.

I got the team up picture with my partner, because I just wanted to be around the group that created such a wonderful community for me to become a part of and even though my partner isn’t as hype as me they are very supportive and also a Sam Riegel fan.. Now I don’t know about the rest of you, but the longer I stand in a line the more anxious and nervous I get. So as the line of critters kept moving, I got more and more panicked. One of the people helping with the line stopped me to ask if I was alright, to tell me that it was going to be fine, and then it was our turn. The first thing out of my mouth was “MATT MERCER WILL YOU CURSE MY DICE?” while awkwardly holding out my Wildmount dice bag. The lines for photo ops always move so fast, and I wasn’t able to pre-order a mercer autograph session so I knew that would be my one opportunity to interact with him. And I felt SO DUMB. But they laughed, and it felt like I actually did something funny, and Marisha and Laura stood on either side of me and we got ready to pose, and I think Matt said “Wait, curse?!” and I was like “YEAH CURSE” because in my mind, cursing my dice would go one of two ways: 1, it would roll FANTASTIC and screw over my players, or 2, it would roll horribly and help my players succeed. Plus, I don’t think I could actually trust any of them to bless my dice. The drive down to Seattle was spent listening to a Vox Machina episode where there were so many natural 1′s.

After the photo was taken, I was exhausted. Didn’t help that I hadn’t eaten since the night before. Didn’t help that I hadn’t had a single sip of coffee. It’s possible that everyone has bad convention habits, but I’m kind of mad at myself for mine. Seriously Ren, you need to eat and stay hydrated!

We went to the Nintendo thing and I pet a couple of dogs that were helping out for at least twenty minutes. There’s just something about petting a dog when you’re anxious that makes all the stress melt away. Then we decided to grab some past 2PM lunch and surprisingly ran into my online friend again! we all ended up grabbing chipotles together, it was a good time (but sadly the last time I saw my online friend for the rest of the day. I’m glad we had goodbye hugs after we ate!). Then it was autograph time. Since I’m an awkward canadian human, I brought some flash cards with notes on them so I’d remember what I wanted to say to people. And since Ashley and Matt were impossible for me to talk to, I wrote a couple things to give to the others to give to them. First person we saw was Sam, which went relatively well. Got a hug, it was a good dad-like hug, if that makes sense. And then my awkward showed and I pulled out the card of things I wanted to tell Liam and said “Please give this to your husband!”

No lie, instant response: “Yeah, of course!” <-Or something of that variation.

Next was Travis. We spoke to him about his work on Ouran and I couldn't find the notes I’d written so I didn’t talk about Fjord, but I made 2 requests. The first was for him to give my note for Ashley to Brian, which he did AUTOMATICALLY. The second was for either a hug or a crisp high five. We both received the crispiest of fives. My partner said that he probably didn’t give me a hug because I’m short and he didn’t want to hurt his back. I MEAN I AM NOTT THAT SHORT TRAVIS IS JUST VERY VERY TALL.

After that we hopped into the Laura line and I chatted with some of the critters around me. Jester and Cad are my two favourite characters, but Laura Bailey is a human I actually needed to read off of my card for because I was so nervous to meet her. I gave her a recipe that I’d been working on for awhile tied with a pretty pink bow. “The Traveler’s Cinnamon Scones!” I’d named them, and one of these days I’ll be posting the recipe for everyone else to try if they want. We’d even brought a few scones and offered them, and she took them, and she gave me a great big warm hug and said in her Jester voice “The Traveler is with you my child” and when we lined up for Liam next, I sat on the ground and cried a little. I felt so bad, because with each of them that I met the more anxious I got and it made it harder and harder to talk to them. For Liam it was the hardest though, because I’d stupidly given his note to Sam. And he asked me for my name, and I broke because I didn’t think he would. And the only thing I could remember was how I loved him playing so many random NPC’s in Fallout New Vegas. My partner talked to him a bit more than me, but I told him that Sam was hopefully going to give him my note later because I just... couldn’t remember through the panic. Liam was the first to give me both a crisp high five and a hug.

Taliesin was next, and my awkward was showing. His hair is just as majestic in person as it is on camera. I told him about how Cad is like, the best big brother in my eyes and how he’s basically the M9′s big bro. He thanked me and told me that that was what he was going for. We both said we were tired and I told him to travel safely. Tal said that he was going to sleep on the plane and I was kind of just like “Lucky! I’m driving so I won’t get to sleep!” I don’t know if his laugh after was because of me or because of something else, but it was a nice laugh.

Last person I got to see was Marisha. Me and her con assistant (?) were talking about a character that the con assistant (?) was making/playing. It helped me calm down a bit before meeting Marisha. I told her a couple things that my friend had (probably jokingly) asked me to say. Like how they love Marisha and that they asked if they could be like Marisha when they were older. I mean, I already said that she could because both of them are awesome. And what Marisha said to me has stuck with me “You can be whoever you want to be.” But then I RUINED THE MOMENT by saying “Yeah! I mean, as long as you don’t steal someones identity!” I told her about how her lipstick is always spot on, I think I rambled for a few seconds about the Fjorjester chat I’m in because that’s where I always compliment her lipstick. I was able to tell her that I appreciate her existence and that I hope that she will continue to be a good role model! Then my partner made a fantastic observation. “I’m surprised you’re wearing sleeves.” Because, as we all know, sleeves are bullshit. But Marisha was so cool, probably literally because she said it was so cold in Seattle, then she pulled back the sleeve to show that she was wearing a sleeveless shirt underneath. The green fish CR shirt iirc! But I actually started crying in front of her, because it had been “a day” and the nice con assistant (?) gave me a tissue STAT and Marisha asked me for my name and hugged me and I told her about the scones.

I really, really hope they liked them.

She said she’d give Matt the note I’d written for him, and I hope that my notes made it because there’s a silly part of me that wants them to know how much they mean to me. It’s dumb, because they definitely hear it from fans all the time. They ask a lot of people for their names. Asking me for mine doesn’t mean anything. But I struggle with self worth a lot. I know that more often then Nott I’m going to be unnoticed. And there are so many wonderful people in the fandom, there were critters that spoke to me first and were understanding about my social anxiety. At least for that day, I felt like I mattered more than usual.

And it really helped.

___________________________________________________

Anyways, hug reviews. Let it be known that from my experience the hugs were all very much top notch!

Sam and Liam give very good dad-like hugs. Considering the running for president of DnD Beyond, however, I do have to say that Liam’s hug was slightly better. Is it the minor height difference? Varying exhaustion levels? Well, it also helped that Liam gave me a crisp high five.

Taliesin’s hug is tied with Liam, as I found his hug a bit more comforting. Definitely some Cad energy up in that hug. And his hair is very nice.

Laura and Marisha were probably my favourite hugs. Marisha hugged me over a table, which made it a bit harder to gauge but there was female strength!!!! Bonus points are given because she had to see me completely crack from the long day of actually being around people. But man, Laura’s hug was so good. Jester voice, the nicest reactions to my stupid gifts, warmth! Kindness! However I am biased, I feel a lot more comfortable hugging females than I do males, even if I am the one requesting the hug.

Really though 10/10 for all of them minus the ones I did not hug. But Travis DID give a very crisp high five. And Matt cursed my dice!

Oh, and if anyone was wondering, we ended up getting them to sign the picture of us together.

It was a really, really great day.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Star Crossed Rivalry: Part 8

Pairings: Opie x Reader (SOA/TWD MC AU Crossover ) Negan daughter!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, little bit of Angst

Word Count: 5,231

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

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

You and Opie had decided before you even left North Carolina that you were not, in any way, setting an alarm clock. You were in zero rush to get up, zero rush to go anywhere, and zero rush to do anything but relax. Away from home, away from the club, away from people that just walked in to your house for no reason what so ever. The only alarm clock you were going to run by was Hunter.

You still couldn’t believe how fortunate you were with your son. Even your dad said it. Since neither of you had to work, since your income came from basically existing as Negan’s daughter, you kept Hunter on a later night, later wake up sleeping pattern. He went to bed around ten thirty, which meant he didn’t wake up until at least eight fifteen. You honestly didn’t understand why other parents didn’t follow in your foot steps, nor did you understand why it made you a ‘bad parent’ (thank you to the judgmental bitch at Walmart that gave you shit for getting Opie’s birthday shopping done at ten at night with your wide awake baby) for still enjoying your sleep. But damn did you absolutely love your decision.

His cute little half babbles woke you, and you couldn’t help but smile like you did every morning. And just like he still did every morning, your husband stuck his arm out to find you in bed. You tangled your feet with his as he slid his hand down your stomach and under the hem of your panties. 

“Opie!” You hissed as you rolled on the bed to look back at him. “He’s…”

“Shhh!” He said as he kissed your shoulder, and slid his other hand up your shirt. “He’s still asleep…” He smirked down at you as he rolled you on to your back and shifted between your legs. “And I want to fuck my wife.”

“Ope! Ooo!” You said as he pulled your panties to the side and pushed the head of his cock into your core. He shushed you again and glanced over at the crib beside the bed and your sleeping son to make sure he didn’t wake up.

“You can do this, baby.” He said as he looked back down at you and rolled his hips forward. “You can stay super, super quiet for me…” You nodded your head, and laced your fingers in his hair as he kissed your forehead. “Because if you fucking wake him, then this stops.” You nodded your head and bit your lip to stay quiet when he snapped his hips forward. Your head continued to nod like a bobble head as he kept a steady pace, filling you repeatedly and perfectly. 

In the year and a half that you had been together, your husband had learned your body better than you knew it yourself and yet he still managed to surprise you every time you were intimate. He knew the exact angle to hold your legs and angle his hips to make a jolt of electricity race through your veins. He knew exactly where to kiss on the front of your throat that sent a shiver up your spine. He knew how hard you liked your hair pulled to make you whined his name the way he fucking adored so damn much… and he knew exactly how much pressure you needed on your clit to get you to cum.

“Come on, baby.” He whispered as he moved his thumb to your bud and pressed down, bringing you both right over to the edge in only a few moments, when someone knocked on your door. You and Opie both grunted in protest, mid-orgasm, as Hunter startled, and started to cry. 

“Mother fucker.” You said as the two of you scrambled apart to answer the door, and tend to your son as well. You grabbed a large, slightly still damp pool towel from the bathroom to wrap around your body as whoever was at the door knocked again. You yanked the door open, and scowled at your dad’s smiling face.

“The fuck were you fucking doing?” He chuckled as he leaned against the door frame. 

“Sleeping. What do you want, Dad?” You snapped as you clutched the towel around you a little more. 

“I came for Hunter.” He said as he gestured to the room behind you. “Frankie’s still passed out, it’s too fucking early to start drinking, and I’m not fucking wandering around a fucking Disney cruise alone.” You nodded your head as you turned your head to look back at Ope, who was changing his son’s wet diaper.

“Give me a second.” Negan chuckled, nodded his head, and leaned back against the wall to wait as you closed the door in his face.

“I’m gunna kill him.” Ope said with a shake of his head as you grabbed his jeans from the night before, and tossed them at him. “Yea, I’m gunna kill your Pop, little man.”

“Just put the jeans on.” You laughed as you pulled your sundress from the hamper you brought and threw it on over your tank top. When he buttoned the top of his pants, you went over and let your dad in to collect his grandson. “What time is it, anyways?” You asked him as you grabbed a bottle from the mini fridge cooler you brought with you, and put it in the bottle warmer the cruise line graciously supplied you. 

“Eight am.” He said as he leaned against your closet door. “And I’m starving. So since you two are so obviously… still tired.” He said with a smirk, loving that he had just interrupted you. “I’m just going to bring my main man to breakfast with me.”

“Better not use him to pick up chicks.” You said as you handed him your diaper bag and waited for the bottle to finish warming. “And make sure you do the bottle first.”

“I know how to fucking parent.” He sighed as Opie grabbed a plain black onesie from the drawer.

“Bibs are still mandatory.” Opie said as he pulled the onesie on, and kissed his son’s head.

“Waste of time.” Negan said as he stood exactly where he was, creating an awkward tension in the room that he absolutely loved as you both said a temporary good bye to your son. When the bottle was finally done, he took it and his grandson with a smile. “Let’s go, little man. Mommy and Daddy wanna fuck.”

“God damn it.” You groaned as your dad walked out the door with a laugh.

“I really hate him sometimes.” Opie said half jokingly as you watched the door close behind him. When it clicked, you looked back over at Opie with a shrug.

“Wanna fuck?” He laughed, and nodded as he came over to pull off your sundress and the tank top you slept in.

“Fucking obviously!”

——

“Well look who finally decided to get outta effin bed.” Negan chuckled as he glanced up at you, Opie, and Frankie, who you had run in to in the elevator on her way up to the Cabanas restaurant breakfast buffet. “Look who it is, bubba.”

“Shut up.” Frankie groaned as she sat down in the chair of the table closest to the corner of the room in typical Negan fashion.

“I was talking about the bunnies.” He chuckled as he got another spoonful of food for his grandson. “Because we need another one of you, right Hunter?”

“Leave ‘em alone, Negan!” Frankie snapped before you could even open your mouth. All three of your eyebrows shot up as Frankie’s face turned bright red.

“Holy shit.” You and Opie said at the same time.

“Baby…”

“OK.” Negan said with a nod, stunned that someone other than you actually stood up to him. “I’ll leave them alone… until the next time I catch them fucking like rabbits.”

“You’re impossible.” Frankie sighed as she grabbed his coffee and glared at him when he tried to stop her.

“Well will you look at that. Someone else willing to stand up to big bad Negan.” You chuckled as you ripped a piece of bacon in half and ate it with a giant, cocky smile. 

“Shut up, brat.” Your dad growled as he gave Hunter another spoonful of food.

“I think Frankie’s gunna give you a run for your money on picking on your dad, hun.” Opie chuckled, grateful that he had an entire table between him and your dad. “I think I’m gunna get a scoreboard…”

“Son-in-law or not, I will fucking kill you.” Your father growled as you smirked at your plate to hide it and pat Opie’s thigh. 

“Alright, that’s enough.” You said as you looked up and grabbed your coffee. You looked over at Frankie and smiled. “I would totally win though.”

“I only snap at him when I’m hungover.” She said as she cut her Mickey waffles.

“She’s much more respectful than the brat I gave life too.” Negan responded as he set Hunter’s spoon in the empty baby food container. “And despite that, I have a surprise for you all the same. Well, mostly for my main man, here.” He said as he wiped off Hunter’s face with his napkin. “I found the shore excursion desk this morning. And I know you guys said you weren’t committing to anything like that because no fucking alarm clocks and shit… But I changed your minds for you. Well Hunter did.” He said as stood Hunter up on his thighs. He screeched happily and bounced as his hazel eyes searched the dining room over Opie’s head. 

“I found a boat tour in Grand Cayman. We don’t get there ’til well after your fucking functioning time. Tours at one, it’s only a two hour trip total max. It’s a half boat, half fucking submarine thing, safe for Hunter. The dude said it’s got enough shit to see out the windows in the water that he’ll be entertained the whole damn time. I just…” He sighed as he looked up at his grandson with so much love it broke your heart. You hadn’t realized that sending you on this cruise for your honeymoon and his anniversary meant so much more to him until that exact moment.

“You’ll do right by him, Daddy.” You whispered as you reached over at touched his arm. “It’s OK.” He nodded his head and kept his slightly tear filled eyes on your son as Opie grabbed your empty coffee mug and his and got up with Frankie right on his heels.

“I fucked up with you, princess.” He said as he looked down at you. “I really fucked up.”

“I know.” You said with a nod. “And you can’t take it back. But you can make it better. For me, for him.” He nodded his head as Hunter flopped down on his lap and babbled away to the older woman at the next table. “Life’s too short, Dad, so don’t beat yourself up for that shit. You can let me live out my second childhood vicariously through my son. Don’t live his life in regret for the past. Live in gratitude that you have a second chance to make your grandson’s life the best fucking experience it can be. And starting off with a Disney cruise.” You said with a nod as you leaned back in your chair. “Win.” He nodded his head some more and kissed the top of Hunter’s head to hide his tears. 

“You make me fucking proud, (Y/N).” He said as he looked up at you with a small smile. “I don’t deserve to be your dad.”

“You don’t.” You said with a huffed laugh as Opie came back over with your coffee. “But then again, no one does. So you’re stuck with me.” His face dropped as he took the cup of coffee Frankie brought him, and held it out of Hunter’s grasp. 

“And then you go opening your fucking mouth.” He sighed with a shake of his head. “Alright, take Hunter. I’m avoiding you for the rest of the sea day because you’re already a pain in my fucking ass and you haven’t been up for a fucking hour.”

“Bye, Dad.” You laughed as you sat Hunter on your lap as Negan grabbed Frankie’s half full plate and silverware for her. “Bye Frankie.”

“See you at dinner! It’s formal night!” She said over her shoulder. You looked over at your husband with a sigh and shook your head.

“How the fuck did our honeymoon become a therapy session for me and my dad and me and my dad’s fucking girlfriend?”

“Because you’re stuck on a boat with them away from the club.” He said as he stabbed a sausage link. “Opposite of the reason why he doesn’t open up at home.”

“It’s still strange to see.” You sighed as you cut your waffles with one hand while holding your son with the other so he could continue to talk to and laugh at the woman at the next table that was now making faces at him. “But I guess I can be grateful, right? My dad’s finally growing up. It just took a new girlfriend and a grandson to do it.”

“You can’t look at it like that, baby.” Opie said with a shake of his head. “Or you’ll resent him…”

“I know.” You said around your bite with a nod. “You’re right.”

“I’m usually right.” He chuckled. “I just let you think you’re always right… Ow!” You laughed as he rubbed his arm where you flicked him.

“I’m the one that’s always right.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Look at you!” You laughed as you tried so hard not to laugh at your son as you switched out his little sun hat with a baby sombrero at a little store along the main road near Cozumel, Mexico’s port. “You’re such a little cutie!”

“Why do you do this to him?” Opie asked as you kissed Hunter’s cheek, pulled your phone from your back pocket, and handed it to your husband.

“Because I know, one day, he will have a girlfriend.” You said as you put a hat on your own head and hiked your chunkster son up on your hip. “Or a boyfriend, I don’t really give a shit. But I know that photos like this, will either embarrass the shit out of him or make him laugh.” You smiled up at your husband and tilted your head to the side. “I’m just trying to be a good mother.” 

“Just so you know.” He chuckled as he took the pictures for you. “I’m telling him it is all your fault.”

“That’s fine.” You said with a smile as you did a little dance with your baby boy. “I’m gunna be the most embarrassing Mommy in the world!” You sang to him, making him squeal in laugher when you carefully dipped him.

“Oh, Hunter, I wish I could save you.” Opie said with a shake of his head as he took another picture for himself. “But I really, really can’t.”

“They have a fucking tequila store.” Negan said as he came out of the jewelry store with Frankie. You involuntarily gaged at the thought of tequila and shook your head.

“Nope.” You said simply. “Y’all can go.”

“Wanna come with me to find a bathroom?” Frankie asked instead as she handed Negan her bag. You nodded your head as you replaced Hunter’s sombrero with his sun hat and put him back in the stroller for a moment. 

“I’m pretty sure there’s a Starbucks up here a ways.” You said as you gestured up the road. “We’ll meet you outside the tequila store.” Ope nodded his head and followed his father-in-law to the store two doors down and you and Frankie kept walking to find the Starbucks. “I hate tequila.” You said with a glance in the giant picture window. “I used to love it but ever since I got pregnant, everything about it just…” You gagged again and shook your head. “Nope. Fuck no.” 

“I grew out of my tequila days.” She said as you stopped at a street corner to wait to cross. You glanced over at her a split second before a small revolver was subtly placed directly between her shoulder blades.

“Vamanos.” A man growled as he put his hand on your shoulder and turned you to your right to lead you deeper into the city. 

“OK.” You said with a nod as you grabbed Frankie’s hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “OK, come on, let’s go this way.” You said as you looked over at her now tear stained face. “Stay calm, OK. Just stay calm.” She nodded her head as tears poured down her cheeks as you glanced up at the street sign in front of you. You took in as many details as you could as the man lead you to an early 2000’s model, silver Nissan Sentra that was parked facing out of an alley a few blocks from the port. You memorized the license plate as best as you could as he popped the trunk, and shoved Frankie toward it with his gun.

“Get in, Frankie.” You said shakily as your abductor handed you a roll of duct tape. “Give me your hands. Together like you’re praying.” She looked up at you in sheer terror as you pulled the edge of the tape free. “Trust me.” With a small nod, she held out her hands and choked out a sob as the gun was pressed into the back of your head.

“Vamos!” The man shouted, making you tape Frankie’s wrist together faster, knowing full well you’d be able to help her out and learning really quickly that this guy was an amateur.

“Back up, sweetie.” You said to her as the man yanked the roll of tape from your hands. 

“Siéntate!” You nodded your head as you turned around and willingly held out your hands toward him, knowing that you were going to escape no matter what. You studied the man’s features, forcing yourself to keep breathing just like your dad always taught you, as he tapped your hands tightly as if that would make a difference.

“No, (Y/N)…” Frankie begged as you scooted back into the trunk once he was done.

“Just hang on, sweetie.” You said as you laid down in front of her, using your small frame to block hers from your attacker. He kept his gun on you and put his finger over his mouth, telling you to stay silent, before he slammed the trunk closed. Frankie yelled ‘no’ as you instantly got to work. 

“Why is this happening?” She sobbed as you looked around for a glow in the dark trunk release tab.

“Hey, I need you to stop for a second.” You said as you moved on to finding something to force the release open. “You forget… I’m Negan’s daughter. Escaping trunks is something he taught me young. Roll up against the seats.”

“I wanna go home.” She sobbed as you pulled up the panel of flooring. You felt around as best as you could as the car pulled into traffic until your fingertips felt a metal tire iron.

“Fuck yea.” You gasped as you stretched a little bit farther, and pulled it free. “Alright, Frankie. I need you to listen to me.” You said as you scooted over in the small space. “The second I pop this trunk, we gotta run. You run straight down the road, and you don’t fucking stop for anything, you hear me?” You heard her hum ‘yes’ as you wedged the tire iron near the latch as best as you could. You only had to wait a few moments for the car to slow down before you yanked down the tire iron as hard as you could and popped the trunk open.

“Run!” You screamed as you gripped your new weapon in your still taped hands and helped Frankie out of the trunk. The two of you took off like bullets as the car screeched to a halt behind you. “Stay in the road!” You yelled as you pushed her with the bent end of the crow bar to run between the two lanes of cars. You could see the ocean in front of you and you kept telling yourself that you were going to make it back home as you dipped through traffic to get home. Your legs ached and your lungs burned with each breath in the heavy humidity, but you didn’t let that stop you. You just knew that if you stopped, you’d be dead.

“Here, turn here!” You shouted over the dozens of horns from drivers angry at you for one reason or another. Frankie followed your instructions blindly as you ran down the main strip back toward the port. You could see your husband’s figure, looming over the cops around him a few blocks up and you let out a sigh of relief. “OPIE!” He whipped around and even from a distance you could see the range of emotions roll though his being. He took off at a run with the stroller to get to you as your father shoved another tourist out of his way to get to Frankie.

“PPE 95 71.” You said as you held out the crow bar to him. “Silver Nissan Sentra. Before 2002.”

“OK, OK. Let me…”

“I got it.” You said as he reached to help you get the duct tape. You lifted your hands above your head, stuck your elbows as far as they would go, and pulled your palms toward your stomach hard, and fast, just like Negan was teaching Frankie. The second you were free, Opie pulled you into his arms and you began to shake violently.

“You’re safe.” He whispered as he rubbed your back. “You’re safe now.”

“I wanna go back to the boat.” You said as tears fell from your eyes. “’s’not safe.”

“Alright, let’s go back.” He agreed with a nod.

“’s’not safe.” You repeated as you looked over at your son. “’s’not safe.” You took a step over and tried to unbuckle the straps to the carseat but you were shaking too badly to do so.

“Hey, hey.” Opie said as he stepped over and gently grabbed your wrists. “Look at me.” Your tear filled whipped up to his hazel ones as he gently pulled off the rest of the tape and dropped it on the ground by the tire iron. “Let’s get on the boat first. It’s… it’s too hot out to carry him all the way back in the sun without the fan.” You nodded your head, not really hearing his reasoning but trusting your husband with your life and your safety.

“She OK?” Negan asked as he held Frankie to his chest. Opie nodded as he moved you between his body and the stroller. 

“She wants to go back to the ship.” Negan nodded as the police stepped forward to get a statement. They started rapid firing questions, making you more and more uncomfortable. You needed space, you needed to get away, and you really needed to feed your crying son.

“I just wanna go!” You screamed at them as you tried to push the stroller forward.

“OK, we’re going.” Opie said with a nod as he purposely boxed you in against the stroller. “Pull the cover down, hun.” You nodded numbly and did what was asked as Negan tried to lead Frankie after you. And officer made the mistake of stepping in his way and you turned your head over at the sound of his growl.

“I suggest you get the FUCK out of my fucking way!” He roared as he picked Frankie up in his arms. “We’ve got nothing to fucking say and you can’t fucking keep us here. You want a formal statement, you can fucking contact Romeo Parada!” Hearing the well known cartel member’s name, the officers instantly stepped back and let him through. “(Y/N), walk.” You nodded your head and continued walking toward the port in front of Opie.

“You called Romeo?” You asked your dad as he shifted his shocked girlfriend in his arms.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” He said with a nod. “He’s flying here now. The CIA has been trying to keep track of fucking sex traffickers in Mexico.” You felt Opie stumble a bit behind you as his head whipped over to your dad.

“CIA?”

“Not now.” Negan said as he turned down the docks toward the boat. “Later.”

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

Opie didn’t know what to do or how to help… and he was a little confused that you didn’t seem more fazed by what happened. He did know, however, that you wouldn’t admit if he wasn’t right up against you, you were silently freaking out. So he sat on the bed, with you between his legs, and Hunter in front of your crossed legs so you could hold him up on the bed to work his leg muscles more. 

“He’s getting close to crawling.” You said a little flatly as you studied the little boy’s face, noticing how he looked more and more like Opie each and every day. “I almost missed it…”

“But you didn’t.” He said as he rubbed your back. “You get to see it.” You nodded your head and startled the slightest bit when someone knocked on the door. “It’s alright, baby girl.” He said as he pulled his long leg back and scooted around you to see if it was yet another member of the cruise staff, Negan, or Romeo. Your whole body stiffened as you pulled Hunter toward you until Romeo walked into the room with two members of the Mexico police. 

“PPE 95 71.” You repeated with a sigh of relief.

“OK, hold on.” Romeo said as he came over to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Let me get set up. Then start from the beginning.” You nodded your hand as you reached out your hand for your husband. He moved back behind you as Romeo pulled out a tape recorder and did his introduction for an official CIA case. When he was done, one of the officers did the same thing for his recorder.

“We were just looking for the Starbucks to use the bathroom.” You started as you kept your eyes on the happy little boy who was more interested with his cardboard colors and shapes book than anything else. “We stopped at the corner a block away and I looked over as the guy put a small caliber revolver in Frankie’s back between her shoulders. I didn’t see him until later but he was tall… about five ten maybe. Medium build, late twenties, early thirties. He had dark brown hair and a short beard. Kinda like my dad’s but colored like Opie’s.” You said as you turned around to look at your husband. “Darker on the sides but a decent amount of grey in the middle.”

“Your dad taught you well.” Romeo commented as you turned back around. You nodded in agreement as you took a deep breath to continue. 

“He wanted me to be prepared just in case. Guy had dark brown eyes, almond shaped, and a scar across his left cheek. Small, about an inch long. Lighter tan skinned, black t-shirt that said something in Spanish I couldn’t understand. Could have been Portuguese. He told us to walk and turned me to the right. We passed 5A and 3A Avenida Sur before he turned us down a little alley where his early 2000 model, Silver Nissan Sentra, white license plate PPE 95 71 was waiting. He made me tape Frankie’s wrists and then he taped mine. Once the trunk was closed, I found a tire iron in the spare tire part and popped the latch. I told Frankie to run between the cars so it would block us from view if the car turned around to come back or whatever. And we didn’t stop running until we got back to Opie.” Romeo nodded his head as he continued to jot down notes. 

“Is there anything else you can remember? Tattoos…?”

“Yea… he had a tattoo on his right upper arm. Could only see the bottom of it.” He nodded his head as his cell phone rang in his pocket.

“Anything else, mija?” He asked as he silenced his phone and came over to sit down on the end of the bed. “You’ve given me so much detail already and I’m so proud of you.” You nodded your head as he smiled at your son, said hi, and pulled out his badge to let the boy play with it. 

“I just tried to stay calm.” You told him as you sat your son down so he could play with the badge until he lost interest. “That’s all I could do. I knew I could make a run for it when he grabbed us at the corner. But I didn’t think Frankie’d be able to keep up if I did. And I couldn’t leave her alone.”

“You did good, mi corazón.” He repeated as he gently touched your leg. “I’m very, very proud of you.”

“Do you think you’d even be able to find this guy?” Opie asked as he continued to rub your back.

“We’ve been closing in on this group.” The first officer said as he flipped his notebook closed and put it in his pocket while Romeo and the second officer turned off their recorders. “Four women taken in a similar situation. Only one of them made it out. She didn’t have nearly as many details but they tried to drug her after they took her out of the trunk. She just happened to have recently gotten sober so her tolerance was pretty high. But she didn’t know where she was or how she got away from there. Just that she had been taken, and drugged.” You nodded your head and looked back down at your little boy as he pushed himself up on all fours like he had been trying for days and looked at the badge he had throw a few feet away.

“Ope.” You whispered as your son rocked back and forth.

“How old is he now?” Romeo asked as he dismissed the other officers with a wave of his hand.

“Six and a half months.” You said with a smile as your little boy got his hand out from under him and put it out in front of his body. It was as far as he had gotten without falling in the past but you knew he’d get there.

“He’s so beautiful.” You nodded your head and silently cheered your son on when he got his other hand in front of him, and scooted forward on his chunky legs.

“He’s going to be trouble one day.” You giggled as your little man apparently mastered the art of crawling in less than three weeks. “We got a crawler.”

“Now it’s time to baby proof the house.” Opie said as your son crawled over to Romeo’s badge and flopped down beside it to pick it back up to chew on it with his one bottom tooth some more until the undercover CIA agent had to leave the boat.

Part 9