#she's ridiculous and she. she's not even fully geaRED

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

making Saoirse a fully functional Vindicator was both the best and worst decision I've made because, on one hand, she's extremely strong with higher damage than any of my other characters... but on the other hand. she's extremely strong with higher damage than any of my other characters.

[lunallaa]

||calling him by his first name||

gotham knights!jason todd x gn!reader

{not edited/proof read please excuse any errors♡}

You honestly didn't even realize that you said it. It was one of those rare late nights where Jason was out on patrol, and you were stuck back home at your shared apartment, struggling to fall asleep ever since he had left for the night. Normally after a long day of work and errands like today sleep came easy, you'd take a hot shower maybe have a cup of that tea Jason buys specifically to help with sleep, and then gather you and the new kitten the two have recently adopted and sleep until he came home. Tonight however, was a different case. No amount of tossing and turning, fluffing your pillows, cups of tea, or white noise playing on your phone could help you sleep.

Thankfully after however many(few) hours your body must've finally realized that you were in fact tired and in need of sleep cause when you woke up next, it was to your kitten stirring and loudly meowing at the bedroom door. Jason was finally home, and from the sounds of things he had just put away his gear from patrol and was making his way to your shared bedroom. You were always confident in your boyfriend and his family's capabilities at what they do, that you never exactly feared one of them never coming home, but it always filled you with such relief and peace whenever he walked through that door. Most times he's worn down and maybe nursing an injury but he's in one peice.

“Welcome home Jason.”

You had barely managed to say it in an audible enough volume with how much sleep and exhaustion you were fighting off. Despite that, it was clear he had heard you anyways. Through half lidded eyes struggling to remain open for more than a few seconds at a time you saw him pause from loving on your kitten almost as if you had told him something ridiculous and he was taking a moment to process it. It wasn't until you had registered his silence lasting longer that it should've for a moment like this, that you started to sober up from you sleepy state and turn your full attention to him.

“What's the matter-”

“Are you mad at me?”

“What are you tal-”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Jason-”

“You're mad at me.”

With a huff you push yourself up and remove yourself from the plush warm covers and expose yourself to the surprisingly cold air of your bedroom as you sit and stare at your boyfriend who stands holding your cat just a few feet from you staring back at you.

“Why would I be mad?”

“You called me Jason.”

You're tempted to crawl right back under your blankets. For how large and scary your boyfriend tends to be, when it comes to you he can be so silly and endearingly pathetic. You will admit that you hardly ever call him by his first name after the first few months of dating and it had only been petnames and nicknames since. Both of your first names were a rare occurrence in your household with how disgustingly in love and sappy the two of you were.

“You're worried cause I called you…your name?”

“You never call me just Jason and you know that.”

“You're an idiot” he's your idiot.

The slight tension in his shoulders immediately deflates as he feigns a dramatic gasp and covers your kitten's ears as if you said a very nasty swear at the two of them.

“How could you say that in front of our daughter! Do you know how damaging it will be for her to see her parents fight?”

“Well seeing as she's only been home for a month and walked in on her parents being very loving with each other more times than we can count on both of our hands combined, I'd say she'll be just fine.”

With the tension fully dissipated now and the both of you all giggles and love sick smiles, Jason walks over to where you sit in bed and plops the kitten on your lap before kissing you softly. The sneaky bastard tries to heaten the moment up, but you (hesitantly) pull away before he's successful.

“Nuh uh. Go shower you smell like gunpowder and outside.”

“What? I thought you liked my natural musk.” He’s got that stupid playful smile on his face that never fails to get a giggle out of you.

“That is not your natural “musk”, you smell like Gotham. Now go shower before you're sleeping on the couch tonight. Jason.”

He immediately straightens up and pouts at your use of his first name again but still makes his way to the bathroom. You don't miss the way he leaves the door completely open as he turns on the water and undresses as an invitation for you to join him. With a dreamy sigh and a kiss to your kitten's forehead, you get yourself up and out of bed and make your way to the bathroom door.

Inspired by a blurb from @gay-dorito-dust !

Read it here!

[ladylooch]

Love & Fairness -[Nico Hischier]

A/N: OPE! I LIED!!!! We do have a full fic for Sunday! The Nico and Lexi angst I've been hinting at for months from that original lil blurb. Hope you all enjoy a little roller coaster for our perfect parents.

Word Count: 4.3k

Timeline wise: Nico and Lexi are married. Lucie is between 1-2. Mack and Sophie are not born.

The night is coated with cozy nostalgia in a dimly lit Hoboken restaurant. Lexi sits with her former nursing coworkers, discussing the most ridiculous patient and staff stories from the hospital since the last time they all connected. Lexi is embarrassed to admit that she hasn’t been able to attend one of these meet ups since Lucie was 3 months old. Her daughter is over a year old now. But life has been hectic with her and Nico’s new addition, plus the long stretches of hockey the Devils have been playing. 

It’s all worth the sacrifice to watch Nico hoist the cup above his head. Soon, Lexi thinks. Soon he will reach his dream and then maybe the pressure can ease a bit. 

With two fingers, she twirls the stem of her now empty martini glass as Gretchen whines about the limited available to take time off with how short staffed the hospital is. 

“We need more people. They can’t even find nurses through the program Lexi came here on.”

“Really?” Lexi’s eye raise in surprise. “It was so competitive when I started there.”

“The pandemic has thinned the desire. Plus working conditions are awful.” Lexi nods. The circumstances weren’t great when she left either.

“Honestly, even if we could find part time people it would help alleviate the pressure.” Ashley mutters, throwing her curly red hair back over her shoulder. The table pauses. Then collectively, they all glance Lexi’s way, including Shawna, who had been relatively quiet.

“What? Me?”

“You were just talking about how boring and mundane your life has been. Maybe… coming back part time would help fulfill your sense of purpose.” Ashley shrugs. 

“Lex, things haven’t been the same since you left. We could really use your sunshine right now.” Gretchen adds on. 

“I am raising my daughter. That is my priority.” Lexi hears herself say the same thing her and Nico have talked about since Lexi became pregnant. But inside her body, a bubble of hope and excitement fills her chest. It starts as a tiny, translucent circle and begins to grow the more the two women encourage her to reconsider. 

“Raising Lucie is incredibly important.” Shawn agrees. “This wouldn’t detract from that, especially on a part time basis. Think of your immediate impact! You haven’t been out of the industry that long. All your certifications are still relevant. You could easily slide in a few days a week, for 3-4 hours at a time. They’re even allowing part-timers to build their own schedule from week to week. It would be the perfect fit for you!”

“And they have daycare in the hospital now! You could bring Lucie there. Socialization is so important for babies. You could have it all right there rather than scheduling a million mommy and me play dates.”

Lexi stares at her three friends in front of her, a slight smile on her face. The gears turn in her head, consider, contemplating, feeling excited at the prospect of returning to a profession she spent so many hours of her life working in. But the though of Brady looms over her head. Losing him took Lexi a long time to get through. She still wakes up at night sometimes, hearing the flat line of his monitor.

“I don’t think I could go back to pediatric. Not with Lucie.” Lexi shakes her head, sighing.

“You wouldn’t have to. They are fully staffed.” Gretchen assures. She begins to dig around in her purse. “Look, just call Aly. She would be excited to hear from you. The rest could easily get worked out.” Lexi takes Ally Schneider’s card, her former boss. Ally had been the one who held Lexi after she lost Brady. She was the one who sent Lexi home and she was the one who accepted her resignation a week later, with full grace and understanding. She would be compassionate and supportive of Lexi being a mother. Maybe this could work. 

In a quiet room, in the back of her mind, a part of her pauses at the thought of bringing this up to Nico. He is so proud of Lexi being a stay at home mom and wife. He shouts it to anyone who will listen about Lexi’s important role in their household. She does worthwhile work for them. He puts he on a pedestal because of it.

Lexi decides that she will talk to Ally first, before she approaches it with Nico. After all, her friends have a clear agenda here. Maybe it wouldn’t be as simple and flexible as they are portraying. 

So Lexi decides, before she talks to Nico, she will talk to Ally. 

- - -

Later that week, Lexi steps out of her evening shower, onto the white, memory foam mat. Nico waits outside the glass enclosure, holding up a fluffy towel for her to step into. He wraps it around her back, then lazily stuffs one corner over the other into her breasts. Lexi grips the towel closed, knowing it won’t stay up like that. That may have been her husband’s agenda.

“Thank you.” She sighs, getting on her tip toes to kiss him. He crushes her into his chest, using his tongue to trace along her lip, then dash into her mouth. Lexi melts into his sexy warmth. Nico grips the towel at her hips, pulling her flush with him. 

“You’re welcome. Luc is sleeping.”

“Finally.” Lexi sighs. 

They had a hard night with Lucie. She was fighting sleep from the moment dinner ended, rubbing her eyes, and saying no to bed time, even to daddy. They both took turns rocking her, putting her in her crib, but nothing was giving. Finally, Nico took her to the couch with a warmed up blanket from the dryer. Lexi disappeared upstairs at Nico’s request. Between now and then, their little girl finally succumbed. Nights like this are becoming more prevalent for Lucie. Lexi is not surprised as their little girl is more toddler than baby these days. Both her and Nico need to buckle up for the upcoming roller coaster of their daughter growing up. She smiles at the thought. There is no one else Lexi would rather do this with. 

How will you going back to work effect her? An inner voice whispers like a siren.

Lexi raises her green eyes to the mirror, staring at her expression. She looks worried. And she is. Because she has a job offer expiring tomorrow that she still hasn’t talked to her husband about. She never expected to walk out of her meeting with Ally three days ago with an offer of employment. She had told Ally she needed time to talk to Nico, but then the Devils lost two back to back games and Nico’s mood has been less than desirable for the conversation. 

Beside her, Nico grabs his tooth brush then dots toothpaste on the bristles. Lexi assesses his mood, seeing him relaxed although a bit tired.

“Can we talk about something?” She begins while dabbing a finger into her moisturizer. She presses three generous dots in a triangle, then begins to smooth them into her face.

“Mhm.” He says around the tooth brush oscillating against his back molars.

“I think…” Lexi starts, then swallows loudly as she stop herself. Nico continues to brush his teeth, looking at her in the mirror. She pretends to smooth out more of her moisturizer on her neck. Her heart flutters heavily against her throat. When she doesn’t continue, Nico turns fully to look at her.

“What?” He mumbles around the white foam in his mouth. Her tongue caresses the side of her mouth anxiously.

Why is this so hard to spit out?

Nico spits out his toothpaste, then wipes his mouth.

“I think I want to go back to work.” She finally sputters out. Nothing about her voice sounds confident. Nico whips his head in surprise at her. He opens his mouth and then closes it, pursing his lips. Lexi immediately sense his annoyance.

“Okay? But, we have talked about how important it is for you to stay home with Luc? You’ve always agreed to that.”

“Yeah….” She trails off, sticking her tongue into the pocket of her cheek so it juts out. “But I’ve been thinking about what I want lately, as me, and I really miss working with patients and having a place to go outside of here.” Nico’s eyes widen, and he looks away, sighing. 

“Okay.” He shakes his head. “I thought you were done with nursing after Brady.” Lexi doesn’t flinch at his name, but her heartbeat patters more heavily in her body.

“I thought so too, but it’s been calling to me the last few months. And I have an opportunity to go back.”

“I don’t see how that is going to work for our family.” Nico shrugs simply, already seeming done with the conversation.

“Well, can we talk about it? Because I talked with Ally-” 

“What does you talking with Ally have to do with our family? Because you and I have already discussed this, before we had Lucie. You said you would stay home because I’m gone so much. How…” Nico scoffs, looking above her head, trying to find his words. “So what, someone else is going to come here every day and watch her? Or we drop her off at some day care center where random people are raising her?”

“They have a daycare at the hospital. She could go-”

“No. Our daughter deserves better than that.” Nico shakes his head vigorously.

“So you just unilaterally decide this for me then?”

“So you unilaterally get to decide to go back to work?” He shoots back at her. Lexi stand up completely straight, rolling her shoulders back.

“You don’t own me.” She hisses out unexpectedly. Immediately, she wants to take the words back at the fire igniting in Nico’s eyes. His cheeks begin to turn red in frustration while he forces a hand through his long, brown locks.

“When did I say that?” Nico snaps. His tone and voice are reaching places Lexi has never heard from him. Her eyes narrow at him, then she turns to leave the bathroom. Nico is hot on her heels. “You’re putting me in a position to be the asshole, Lex. You and I agreed you would stay home with our kids.”

“Well I need something more!” She huffs at him. “Emma gets to go be-”

“That’s Emma and Timo. Not us.” She startles, feeling like a scolded child by their parent. Tears begin to fill her eyes at the shame of his disappointed scowl.

“I’m allowed to change my mind.” She whispers to him, hating the way her lip trembles.

“Yeah you are, but not when it ruins our kid’s life.”

“Nico, that is so unfair.” Her tone wobbles at her words. Nico’s jaw tightens at the two drops that escape her lids. He looks away, large eyebrows jumping as he tries to brush the effect of her emotions away.

“I don’t care, Lexi.” Nico shakes his head again. “The answer is no.” 

Lexi shakes her head in disgust before heading into their master closet to change. She cries as she pulls on her pajamas. When she returns with tears on her face, Nico doesn’t even care.

Instead, he climbs into bed and turns his back to her like a cold, distant monster.

- - -

Nico and Lexi don’t talk the whole next day. Not even about Lucie. They move around the house, avoiding each other. She goes to the store to grab groceries; he stays home with Lucie. They sit silently, watching TV during dinner. Lucie doesn’t seem to notice, snacking on her food and playing with her toys like everything is normal. 

This continues into the following morning when Nico has to head out on a five game road trip. He dotes all over their daughter as Lexi’s resentment for him breeds into an ugly, angry tyrant in her mind. She doesn’t even let him kiss her cheek when he is about to leave. She slides away from him, turning her back on him like he did to her two nights ago. His heavy sigh makes tears sting her eyes, like she is the one in the wrong here.

“Lex.”

“Nothing about this will be resolved before you leave in the next two minutes. Travel safe.” She responds without turning towards him.

He stands there for a few more moments, rubbing his hand along Lucie’s head as she munches on her oatmeal. Internally, Lexi wonders if he will try to find some middle ground regardless of her words. But then Nico leaves without apologizing, or saying I love you, or providing any comfort like he usually does. She feels herself hating him a little bit more.

She doesn’t watch the Devils games that week.

She is so angry with Nico. They do nightly FaceTime calls with Lucie, but Lexi don’t speak to her husband. Nico gets more and more frustrated with her. It begins to bleed out onto the ice against the St. Louis Blues. Nico gets two penalties in the game, including five minutes for fighting. Of course, Lexi doesn’t know this because she is watching. She knows because Emma Meier shows up at their door with a bottle of rose the next day.

“What is going on?” She asks when Lexi opens the door. Lio is on her hip, munching on an apple sauce pouch as she strolls in. Emma is in dark wash, tight designer jeans and a tan, long sleeved crop top. Her hair is straightened and perfect, not even a hint of frizz from the rainy humidity earlier in the morning. She puts the bottle of rose on the counter, then goes to put Lio next to Lucie. She’s pulling her skin tight jeans back up her waist as she looks expectantly at Lexi. “Nico wouldn’t share anything with me. Timo couldn’t get it out of him either.”

“Of course not.” Lexi snorts, then rolls her tense neck muscles out. Emma nods her head at Lexi to continue. She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “I want to go back to work and the dictator of this house said no.” Emma widens her eyes. 

“Nico said no?” The words seemingly taste awful to her as she says them. 

“Yep. He told me if I go back to work I’m ruining our daughter’s life.”

“No.” Emma’s mouth opens in shock.

“Yes!” Lexi exclaims, reaching for the bottle of wine. She twists the top open, then takes two really big glugs. The acidity burns at her esophagus as she puts the bottle back down. Emma picks it up, taking a more delicate sip. She slowly blinks and shakes her head.

“Wow, I’m surprised.”

“Me too.” Lexi responds, sighing heavily. Tears prick at her eyes as she recounts the conversation from last week. She purses her lips, looking back at Emma.

“I don’t understand why he gets to make this decision for me?”

“He doesn’t.” Emma says simply. “This is your life. You have the right to do the things you want to do with it. Your partner needs to be supportive of that.”

“Nico doesn’t seem to see it that way.” Lexi looks out into the living room, watching as Lucie coos at Lio, holding up a large, red lego block. Lio takes it from her, then puts it next to a blue one.

“Oh we can’t do that one. Rangers colors.” Lio shakes his head. “Grab a green one, LuLu.” 

“I’ll talk to him.” Emma insists after pouring two glasses of rose. “He is being unreasonable.”

“Actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t.” Lexi sighs, tracing a circle onto the marble counter top, then looks up at her. “I think it would just make it worse.” Emma scans her sister-in-law, then nods in understanding.

This is one they’ll have to work through on their own.

- - -

The night Nico is due home, Lexi stares at the ceiling, replaying everything that has happened in the last two weeks. Life went from the mundane, same day over and over again, to this angsty, aching storyline of push and pull between a husband and wife. She went from having no job prospects, to receiving an offer, to turning it down. She hasn’t even told Nico. She doesn’t want to. Doesn’t feel like he deserves to know with the way he has been acting.

Her phone lights up the room as the garage camera catches Nico returning home from his late night flight from Colorado. Tears curve into the water line of Lexi’s eyes. Normally, after a road trip this long, she would gallop down the stairs excitedly to throw herself into his arms. He could catch her. They would make out like teenagers against the refrigerator, then he would carry her upstairs to make love. 

Not tonight.

Her brain traces his path through the house from memory, knowing when he stops at Lucie’s room. Five minutes later, she hears him rustling with his bag outside and closes her eyes, pretending to be asleep so she can avoid an interaction with him. Her lip trembles as she shakily swallows to wet her dry throat.

Nico comes into the bedroom almost completely silent. He drops his things in the closet and presumably changes. Lexi’s chest aches when he comes to the bed and grabs his pillow afterwards. His footsteps are so silent, when his voice speaks from next to her, her heart jumped into her throat. 

“Lex?” She startles at his touch. Nico grimaces. “I’m sorry… When I went in to kiss Luc, she was hot. She has a fever.” Lexi moves to get up. Lucie was fine when she checked her a few hours ago. “No, please. I’d like to take care of her myself.” 

“You can bring her in here.”

“No, you deserve to sleep.” He reaches out tentatively for her cheek, cupping it briefly. “Goodnight. I love you.” It’s the first time he’s said it to her directly in a week. He moves to pull away and she grips his wrist.

“I love you too.” She earnestly looks into his deep, brown eyes. “But I am also so mad at you.”

"I know. You have every right to be.” He maintains direct eye contact when he says it. Lexi’s eyebrows furrow. “We will talk tomorrow.” He leans down tentatively and Lexi goes the other 50% until their lips meet. The kiss is sad and achey. Their lips crave the taste of the other, but can’t go all in like they want to. Lexi pulls away first, stroking her nose along Nico’s. She can feel his lashes against her forehead. Then he pulls away to go lay on the floor of their daughter’s room.

The next morning, Lexi is up first. She pokes her head into the guest room, seeing Nico and Lucie have moved there together. Lucie’s bare feet are pressed into Nico’s chest, cheeks pink, hair wild like it had been sweaty and dried sometime during the night. Lexi creeps in, pressing a hand to her toddler’s forehead. No fever. With that comfort, she tiptoes from the room again. 

Downstairs, she makes herself a berry smoothie and settles into the couch with a book. She stays there for a bit, then begins to feel antsy waiting for her loves to wake up. She heads back upstairs, unpacking Nico’s bag completely and getting started on his laundry. She bring his three suits to the downstairs closet for dry cleaning to pick up tomorrow.

It’s almost lunch time when a sleepy Nico and Lucie come downstairs together. Lucie smiles at her mama around a pacifier in her mouth. Lexi arches a slender eyebrow at Nico. Lucie hasn’t had pacifiers for 6 months.

“I lost the battle.” He groggily mumbles. His long hair is flopping every which way. He hands their daughter over to Lexi, then kisses her head. “ ‘m gonna take a shower.”

Nico disappears back upstairs while Lexi gives Lucie some of her leftover smoothie. She sucks it up happily, babbling for some banana when she is done. Lexi is cutting that up when Nico returns downstairs. His hair is slicked back from his shower. He is dressed in new lounge sweats while texting on his phone.

“Do you want a smoothie?” Lexi asks him.

“No, I’m going to make myself some eggs. Do you want any?”

“No, I already ate.”

“Okay.” He wraps an arm around her waist from behind. Lexi resists the urge to tense, trying to purposefully relax her upper body. Nico rests his chin on one of her shoulders, then turns his nose into her neck.

“I was completely out of line last week.” He murmurs while staying there. Lexi scoops up the banana pieces and puts them in a small bowl for Lucie, then slides it across the counter to where she is in her highchair. Lexi puts the knife down and turns so her and Nico are facing each other. He keeps her enclosed in his arms with a palm resting on the counter, on either side her.

“Do you only love me because I’m the mother of your child?” Lexi ponders.

“No, Lex. I love you. The person. So much.” He finishes with a whisper. His eyes trace her face earnestly. Lexi nods. 

“I turned them down.” She admits.

“I’m sorry.”

“And I’m sorry if I have a hard time believing that.” Lexi says pointedly. 

“Fair.” Nico nods then swallows hard. “But I am.” 

“Can I get an explanation?” Lexi asks. She reaches her hands out to rest on his hips, gripping the waistband of his joggers as an anchor.

“I’m having a hard time with how much I’m missing of Lucie growing up. And I put that fear into you last week. Like… I’ve been able to fall back on the idea that you’re here. And if you go back to work, what will I have to ease my failures as a father?” He touches his chest delicately. Lexi lowers her gaze to his beaded bracelets. She moves one of her hands up to hold his wrist. “If this is what you need to do… to be happy… to feel what I get to feel when I step onto the ice every day, then I am in full support of you.”

She stares at his chest, letting his words sink in. As he always is, Nico is patient. When her eyes meet his again, they stare at each other wordlessly for a moment. She is wary. He can sense it.

“I know I hurt you and I’m so sorry.” He whispers. She nods her head in recognition of his apology.

“Nico, you are an amazing dad. It makes me really sad you feel like you’re failing our daughter. That couldn’t be farther from the truth.” She shakes her head, blowing out a sigh. “And I wish you would have shared that with me before it turned into this.”

“I’m embarrassed.” He shrugs. “I’ve been good at everything my whole life. Working so hard to overcome any obstacles.. but there are things I can’t give to Lucie and it kills me, babe.” The way he says babe wrecks her. Lexi moves his hand to the side so she can slide against his chest. Her fingers clutch at his muscular back and dig into his scalp as she cradles their heads together.

“She is so lucky to have you, Neeks.” Lexi turns to kiss his stubbled cheek. He buries his nose deeper into her collar bone as she stroke along his spine. “I am too.” His large arms wrap around her waist, enclosing it completely.

“Tell me again?”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me you are thinking about going back to work.”

“I’m… thinking about going back to work?”

“Okay. Whatever you want to do is what works for our family. We will figure it out.” Nico murmurs. “That’s what I should have said to you. I’m sorry I didn’t.” Lexi smiles against his cheek. Nico turns, capturing her lips. 

“I accept your apology.” She murmurs. “But I really did already turn Ally down.”

“I’ll call Ally. Tell her your husband was a fucking idiot last week, but he’s done with that.” Lexi chuckles, top teeth dragging over her bottom lip. 

“I would like to try it. See if we can find a balance?” 

“Yes, 100% yes, baby.” 

Across the counter, Lucie squeals excitedly then throws her banana bowl onto the floor. 

“Oh! LuLu is in too!” Nico cheers. “Yay mommy!!!” He claps around her back. Lexi chuckles, a whole body rumbling one as her and Nico separate. Nico grabs Lexi’s phone, sliding it across the counter. “Call Ally.” 

Ally extends another offer to Lexi immediately on the phone. 

Within an hour, Lexi has signed an offer letter and has orientation scheduled for the following Monday. Nico brings her to her first day of work, packs her lunch, and spends the whole time Lexi is working with Lucie in the day care, spending time with the kids, signing autographs for staff members and patients alike. By the end of the Lexi’s four hour shift, he is exhausted.

“No wonder you need a break.” He mumbles, exhaustedly running a hand over his hand. “And she isn’t even tired.” He points out about a babbling Lucie in her carseat. 

“Welcome to my life.” Lexi smirks, then clicks her seatbelt in place. Nico wraps her hand in his, bringing it up to kiss along her knuckles. “So what’s for dinner stay at home dad?” Nico balks at her.

“McDonalds.” He chuckles, turning out of the parking lot.

With ease, the Hischiers settled into this adjusted life, until two pink lines show up a few months later on a test in their master bathroom.

Read more Nico and Lexi here.

[zeroseuniverse]

Cat Nap

Word Count: 696

Warnings: Mentions of narcolepsy (incase that's triggering) none other than that.

Summary: In which sharing a sleep schedule in separate time zones was not a good soul bond.

“Good news it’s not narcolepsy.” The doctor hummed looking down at her chart with an odd look.

“Then what is it? Because falling asleep in the middle of work is something I can't afford.” She frowned, twiddling with her fingers trying to wring out her anxiety.

“Seems it’s your soul bond, you’re connected by sleep.”

“Oh that’s perfect!” Her father cackled, finding the whole things amusing.

“Dad!”

“What? I’m not wrong, you are paired with someone who sleeps a lot, it would explain your recent insomnia spells if you live in a different time zone.”

“Let’s not go into time zones,  maybe they work a night shift.” She groaned, packing her bag after filling out the necessary paperwork to leave.

“I don’t know honey.”

“Are you packed?” She wondered, hoping to change the topic, her father rolled his eyes, putting the car in gear and backing out of his parking space. 

“Yes, I am. But I’m not comfortable leaving you here alone.”

“I’m a fully grown adult.”She deadpanned, not liking that her father was babying her.

“A fully grown adult with a soul bond that causes her to sleep sixteen hours a day, I mean come on, is your soulmate a cat?” He argued, turning a corner.

“Probably, you know I’m a cat person.” She shrugged, not even thinking twice about the joke her father had cracked, “I can survive alone.”

“No you won’t because I think you should come with me.” He blurted, earning an eye roll.

“This is ridiculous.” 

“No it’s really not, if you’re here you’ll eat during the night and it’ll mess up your systems more and make you sick. So come with me and I can monitor you. You’re already basically in Korea’s time zone with the way you sleep so you won’t have to readjust much.”

–

And that’s how she ended up in Seoul, South Korea. Her father had a huge conference to attend here and so she was mainly left to her own whims. After about two days she realized she really was on Korea’s time, she slept perfectly through the night and woke up more energized than ever, and her father was rather smug about this when he noticed. One day she was taking a walk near the river when she saw six men playing around in the grass, one of them looking her way when he noticed the eyes, he gave her a weary bunny-like smile before turning away. She looked around to find a bench, though someone was already sitting on it, there was enough space for her to give them distance. So She sat on the edge of the bench and looked up at the clouds with a soft smile, not noticing the soft gaze she received or the thrumming under her skin from the bond, all she knew was the most relaxed she had ever been, and as she dozed off, the man next to her followed in suit. And so they rested, the most content faces being shown to the members nearby who knew Yoongi would never fall asleep next to a stranger, so he must’ve fallen asleep before she sat. Jungkook walked over and woke his hyung up but was startled by Jimin’s gasp, he glanced back to see what was going on and followed Jimin’s eyes to the woman on the bench began stirring, which really didn’t make much sense, they hadn’t made any noise.

Yoongi grumpily woke up, shaking Jungkooks hand off of his shoulder, reaching out to the woman subconsciously, and when their skin connected, the thrums were impossible to ignore for her, making her gasp loudly. 

“Oh My God.” Taehyung watched on with wide eyes as Yoongi initiated affection with the stranger, Yoongi pulled her close nuzzling into her neck sleepily which she squealed a bit at. 

“Are you actually a cat? Cause if you are, my dad is going to love this.” She teased, causing Yoongi to bite her gently in defiance. It might’ve been too soon for that in normal relationships, however soulmates were known to basically jump each other on sight so he’d say this was pretty tame.

“Oh you are such a cat.”

[paper-cuts-and-fresh-bruises]

So I thought I'd make a post on this as it's been a minute since the season 3 trailer dropped and what I'll be talking about was something that was making the rounds and I thought I'd say something when the craze had died down; but amongst the various topics of conversation, weirdly Colin's virginity seems to have come up, along with the general nature of his sexual experience. So be warned I'm going to be referring to spoilers at points from what's been posted by others on here and on Reddit, I'll leave a gap between this paragraph and the next so there you go, read at your own discretion. (note: post may be long, whoops)

So even if you've remained away from spoilers and seen only the trailer and other official promo stuff, it's clear that Colin has returned from his travel's more experienced this time in more ways than one, namely it is clear that he has been deflowered (kind of hate this term but I couldn't think of something else), and beyond that he's then also become particularly experienced in the bedroom and in the ways of charming women and such. I've seen some people say that they wished he'd still been a virgin more so because they would've found the dynamic of both him and Penelope being virgins something interesting to see as a shift from dynamics of previous seasons, and whilst I don't necessarily hate that, what's disturbed me is the way other people have had such a visceral reaction to Colin having any involvement with any other woman ever and getting ridiculously angry; which is funny when really they should be seen as interesting points of character development. In episode 1 of season 3 he returns home obviously looking as he does now and there's the whole sequence of the dropped glove that he picks up and kisses the hand of the lady in question it belongs to, Colin has returned feeling he has a solid sense of himself but also thinks himself untethered to the necessity of connection in order to engage in sex or even just flirtation, but this is important as the season progresses. In episode 2 from what I've read, he visits a brothel in which he pays for the services of a woman who works there, everything goes fine, I don't know exactly how much we will see of that encounter but it'll probably be enough; also to note, the source of this information stated very clearly that this interaction and a following one in episode 4 do not bear significance or even compare on what we will get with Polin in terms of an array of content that this season delivers.

Speaking of episode 4, reportedly he goes again but this time he's unable to engage as well as he did before and without a doubt this is due to Penelope. Additionally, this is an interesting look at sex in terms of it just being for gratification, and sex in terms of connection, a means to an end versus an act of love. In previous seasons, the depiction of brothels/sex work establishments doesn't really bear the same importance plot wise (side note I am not nor should you go shaming these people in that line of work as it's one that deserved respect like any other, it is simply functioning as a part of the conversation here), unlike here where I think that it's really important as it show's Colin's inner need for connection in order for it to work, because when he was away he probably had no issues getting his kicks because he convinced himself this felt right and back home would be no different, but that only lasts briefly and why you may ask? because the friend who he'd left and returned to transforms from a woman only in name to a woman in fully realised form, from a wallflower into an Emerald, and this kicks into gear the real maturity he needed to gain, realising from not just her appearance but the other qualities she possesses and the ways in which he is both attached and attracted to her, that she is who he has truly loved this whole time, he just needed to get out of his own head. It should also be pointed out that in the show, Colin has always drifted with finding himself let alone sorting out his feelings, so it is highly likely whilst he was technically violating polite society rules with his interactions with Penelope and this should've fired something off in his brain, that it caused him instead to think this is simply something that someone does with a friend they value highly versus being a by-product of his underlying feelings that he has with no one else. And as such, whereas Penelope was the one pining before, now he will be the one doing so and he's no longer on the pedestal he was previously so they'll be on even ground to start something real.

On a quick note, this is a friends to lovers ship but I want to make it clear, especially with men and women dynamics, that not all friends are going to have this trajectory whether we're talking about characters or irl people; friends to lovers tropes should be understood as two people who's connection starts with friendship and there's always a sense it could be something more whether or not both parties are consciously aware and it's to do with how they explore that, and is NOT in any way the case that these friends can somehow never be just friends with a strong connection, case and point Penelope and Morgan from Criminal Minds, close friends and nothing more and they're great.

Something also to say is that the obsession with Colin's sexual experience is just as bad as they way women are treated for their sexual experience, it creates this weird value and attributes a weird rating system of respect to something that's not our business, as well as fetishizing what people do or don't do with their bodies and making assumptions about their activities, so you know maybe we should agree to not do that. Beyond that, how about we actually watch what happens instead of spiralling out of control about this stuff. Also, if I see anyone who aren't fans of this ship to begin with, just leave, you're wasting energy on something that you literally don't need to be, do what the rest of us do and exit out and invest your time in what you actually enjoy instead of festering hate.

[ptn-imagines]

Hello! I've been looking around the PTN blogs and didn't found that much work about us being a sinner, i would love to see Langley in a relationship with a mad guard dog sinner reader

I see we as a society have progressed from wanting to kiss Rahu to wanting to be Rahu. I completely get that though.

Hope you enjoy, anon! Warnings for violence and some minor coercion (NOT in regards to the relationship) beneath the cut.

Langley in a relationship with a “mad guard dog” Sinner!Reader

Honestly, Langley is not the sort of person who needs a bodyguard, Paradeisian or not, so one couldn’t help but wonder just what she was playing at by hiring you. Perhaps it had something to do with her enmity with the Hush, seeing as Shalom had acquired a bodyguard for herself? Whatever, you weren’t paid to speculate.

The first time you met Langley was shortly after you were detained by the MBCC. You were an S-Rank Endura Sinner, kept under high security as you had caused a massive incident and been incompliant during interrogation. Even the shackles weren’t enough to keep you in line – or rather, the Chief simply refused to deny even you your autonomy if they could help it. What a sentimental fool.

When you first laid eyes on Langley, you felt a plethora of mixed emotions. Disgust and rage, because this woman was the director of the 9th Agency, Paradeisos’s intelligence organization, and you had no reason to believe she was any different to the rest of those scum. Fascination and curiosity, because… this woman was a Sinner.

Eventually the rage won out. Who cares that she was a Sinner? She’s Paradeisian, a gear in the machine that grinds people like you into dust. The only thing that stopped you from trying to attack her were your heavy restraints, applied after the incident in the interrogation room.

Given how you’d treated her, the last thing you expected was to be unchained the very next day. But that’s how things turned out; you couldn’t even fully process the series of events as you were being herded into a 9th Agency car and shipped off to a Paradeisos mansion.

The mansion was large and ornate, and your room was comfortable. You were allowed to even roam in the gardens, though guards were posted to prevent you from leaving the property.

You hated it. Who did that bitch think she was? You weren’t some fucking dog or pet. Mania exacerbated your fury, and you ended up breaking many things inside Langley’s mansion. A sense of vindictive satisfaction washed over you as you observed the mess you had made; surely this would make that bitch realize the mistake she’d made. Chained up in an MBCC cell had to be better than being penned in by this ridiculous attempt at playing house.

Much to your dismay, Langley wasn’t upset by your rampage; if anything, she was amused. She seemed to have expected it even, judging by the smirk on her lips as she shook her head and tutted, “My my, I seem to have picked up quite the troublesome little pet.”

Her words boiled your blood. You! Weren’t! A! Pet! When she expressed her intentions to take you in as her bodyguard, you saw red.

When the haze of Mania cleared from your mind, you were pressed face down on the carpeted floor of the room, the cold steel muzzle of what could only be a gun pressed to the back of your head. “I can’t force you to do it,” Langley murmured, voice low and deadly, “since I’m well aware that it’s foolish to have a bodyguard that wishes for my head. I can keep you here for as long as I like. It’s not a good idea to bite the hand that feeds you.”

Though you despised it, you knew she was correct, so over the next few weeks, you worked on taming the rage inside your veins every time you saw her. If she wanted a bodyguard out of you, all you had to do was bide your time until she realized she wasn’t getting one. Sure, you’d be shipped back to the MBCC, but with escape not an option, this was better than the alternative.

Or at least, that was your plan. As time spun on, it became easier and easier to restrain your anger with each passing day, and something new flooded into the void eagerly. No, not something new, something abandoned; that initial spark of curiosity you had felt towards her.

When you realized this, at first you were suspicious, scrutinizing your interactions with Langley for any sign of deception or manipulation. Unfortunately, there were none, unless you counted your first day at the mansion. Which you definitely were, but other than that… Langley had been nothing but surprisingly kind to you.

Damn it all. When had you stopped seeing her as filthy Paradeisian scum, and instead begun to view her as someone you’d be interested in getting to know? It was an unbelievable hit to your dignity.

You half-couldn’t believe it yourself when you approached her hesitantly, mumbling that “fine, alright, I’ll be your bodyguard.” And from the way Langley smiled, you realized she knew it would turn out like this all along.

The thing is, Langley was incredibly competent and hardly had a need for a bodyguard. Most of the time, she’d dispatched any threats before you even knew they were there, and you suspected that the Corruptors or gangsters or assassins or what-have-you that you did get to take out were her gift to you, a way for you to take out the violence and Mania that thrummed beneath your skin. It had to go somewhere, after all, lest you bring yourself to ruination.

Still, this allowed you to be closer to Langley than you had ever been penned up in her mansion. Always a step behind your mistress, silent most of the time – but sometimes, when nobody else was around, Langley would talk to you, about any and everything, asking for your thoughts and feelings on a wide berth of topics. The last time you’d felt as calm and soothed as in these moments was long before you became a Sinner.

After a year or so spent in Langley’s service, however, a moment arose where you truly had to protect Langley. You don’t know what calculation had been incorrect or what clue had been missed – that wasn’t your job – but something had gone wrong. It felt like a chill down your spine, an uncanny feeling of instinct, and you moved before they did, and your world turned red as the white-hot pain of a knife sunk into your abdomen–

You’re not sure how long you spent unconscious, between the bloody madness and the blissful nothing that followed after, but when you next came to awareness you were laid up in your bed. Wondering how you got here, you tried to sit up – only to hiss in pain as your wound flared up. Looking down, you saw your abdomen wrapped in gauze – that’s right, you remembered now. You’d been stabbed by an assassin trying to protect Langley. Where was she? Was she alright?

Before you could begin to fret too much, the door to your bedroom swung open, and there she was. Her hat covered her expression, but you could nevertheless hear the genuine concern in her voice as she called your name. Langley… cared for you? Really? But you knew the spider well enough to know she wouldn’t fake something like this. Plus, it was in line with what you’d seen of her interactions with her subordinates in the 9th Agency.

You’d been asleep for three days, she told you, and yes, she was fine. Your wound would fully recover but the assassin’s blade had been tinged with Mania, so you’d be on bedrest for longer than normal. The assassin themself was dead. You’d made sure of that. Apparently you’d gone into such a fit of Mania that Langley worried she’d have to shoot you for the sake of everyone present – but there had been no need for that, since apparently after the assassin was dealt with, you’d collapsed then and there.

It was around now that you noticed that you were wearing a clean nightgown, not the clothes you’d worn on the day of the attack. There was also a conspicuous lack of blood on your body. You asked about it, and the answer you got caused you to flush red to your ears – she’d taken care of bathing you herself. “I hope you don’t mind, pet,” she said, with a smirk half-hidden by her hat that indicated to you that she was well aware that you didn’t mind at all, aside from how flustered it made you.

The pain from your injury went ignored as impulse suddenly spurred you to act, as it so often did. You grabbed the spymaster’s face and pulled her closer, crashing your lips together in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. You relished the tiny gasp against your lips, the satisfying thrill of taking Langley herself by surprise just this once; then, her hands were on your hips and she was pulling you closer, her tongue slipping into your mouth as she claimed her rightful dominance.

When you finally parted, breathless, your abdomen was on fire. Noticing this, Langley chuckled and pushed you down by the shoulders. You went willingly. “Try not to tear your stitches open, dear,” she chided, though her tone was amused – and you couldn’t help but notice you were dear now, rather than pet. “We’ll have plenty of time for this once you’ve fully healed and are back to work.”

She didn’t linger for much longer after that – work called – but you were, for once, perfectly content to lay in bed, heart thudding. Langley’s words carried an unspoken promise of a future of you and her, and with the memory of your lips on hers and her tongue in your mouth, you couldn’t wait.

[zeestarfishalien]

Part 11: One Way to Shake Me Up

[Master Post | Next]

Jason would like to comment upon an incredible feature humans have which is adaptability. He’s managed to completely reroute his life and daily routine around a body on a dining table and the spectral dog attached to said body.

He has a smaller two person table which he eats at and otherwise ignores the bigger table with its carefully laid artifacts, runes, and body. It’s kind of in the way so it’s rather impressive the way it’s become just another part of the scenery for Jason. At least it’s like that until he noticed that Spooky goes back into their body every night after Jason himself had gone to bed.

The first time Spooky didn’t climb back out of their body when Jason got up in the afternoon, he nearly panicked trying to find the spirit. He’d like to say he’s gotten better since then…but that would be a lie. Jason can’t quite help that spike of fear every time it takes Spooky a while to be coaxed from their body. They’re struggling with something and can’t communicate what it is. It’s frustrating and worrisome and Zatanna says it’s fine but she doesn’t see the way they look at their body sometimes, like it might eat them.

Yet every night they go back…and every night Jason wishes he could communicate fully with his roommate. There’s a desperation in Spooky’s eyes, something in the way they watch Jason talk or cook or fiddle around with gear in his off time. But the quiver in their legs they can’t quite get to stop for several minutes some days cuts Jason deep. His chest aches for his friend.

He’s not quite sure when exactly he shoved out any lingering hesitation about Spooky. A lot earlier than he likely would have for anyone else though and if Spooky does turn out to be bad news, Jason is going to suffer a lot. He’s attached. Very attached. Spooky is fully a part of his life and he really kind of likes it.

It’s the little things, the way that Spooky nudges his hand when they want his attention (usually to show him a bug or random trinket) or tucks their tail over their eyes when they’re pouting or feigning indifference. They watch movies together and Spooky follows him like a little duckling whenever he’s within their prescribed radius.

It’s not until Jason is ranting to Damian, Alfred, and Cass at Thursday tea time that a solution is presented. It’s presented in the form of a delirious Tim stumbling into the room half asleep.

“You should just put the alphabet on your floor. Or just one of those phrase button things people get for their animals.” He then promptly passes out. It’s ridiculously obvious now that Jason thinks about it and he can’t believe it took a nearly comatose genius to point it out to him. Cass is snickering at something dumb that’s definitely not Jason’s face (hint: it is), so Jason jabs her in the side. At least he tries to.

The smug smirks all around the table are all the response he gets for his antics.

“You know what,” Jason scoots his chair out and makes to stand, “I don’t need to take this.”

“Come now Master Jason. I do believe your friend Spooky can wait until after tea,” Alfred points out, painfully hitting the nail on the head. It’s only because it’s Alfred that Jason sits back down and doesn’t even glare.

The rest of their teatime passes uneventfully and all too slowly in Jason’s opinion. It’s all he can do to sit there feigning serenity, holding his legs perfectly still so they don’t bounce in anticipation.

He’d like to say that he made a swift but not suspiciously swift exit, the smirks on his sibling’s faces said otherwise. Even Alfred had a knowing glint in his eye as he bid Jason a good evening.

Well fuck them!

No, not really…he loves them he’s just anxious and excited and his gut is churning. He might finally have a way to communicate better with Spooky.

He definitely did Not border on the edge of speeding to get back home just a little bit faster.

He’s still careful to make sure no one sees him use the secret entrance to Damian’s little base.

It’s Damian’s. Not his. Not home (but it feels like home).

It doesn’t even have half a kitchen, just a mini fridge and a microwave oven, both of which Jason brought in himself.

They’re gone…

There’s no sign of Spooky in the little one room base they both live in.

It takes Jason 9 minutes to find Spooky pacing the border of their tether to their body. In this case, a rooftop at the end of the block.

Every once in a while they try to go further only for their body to turn to smoke and reform inside the prescribed radius. They return to pacing, eyeing the edge of their limits with a sort of panicked desperation.

“Spooky,” he calls softly. They still startle and skitter farther away. “Hey, it’s just me. Can we go inside?”

They shake their head no, their gaze jumping back to the invisible line they cannot cross.

“I’ve got a way for us to communicate. You can tell me what’s wrong. I’ll do my best to help.”

They spin back to him and he’s seen them desperate but not quite with this same level of agitation, of worry. They’re gaze searching Jason for any hint of a lie or possibly just looking for an affirmation of his words.

“Let’s figure this out together.”

Wowza, here we are. I will fully admit that most of the reason this wasn’t done sooner is that my newest dpxdc fic is taking up my time (and I haven’t even posted any of it yet. Hooo boi…). We’re getting close to some more answers! Next chapter maybe 😉

I’m also back on my Tales of the Land nonsense (a fantasy novel wip) with all the lore building and song writing involved there. Gotta torture my fav half siren thief some more 😈

@rangerhorsetug @treepainting @thatonegirl10 @demiourgias @spooky-fm @antagonisticly @fluffy23sblog @manglethemingle @kyrianclawraith @layyeschips @shepardking @asphyxia778 @ballzfrog @fluffen-spooky @drowningroane @deathsdaisy @malaayna @mistyaltair @potatoeofwisdom @heartsong18 @nixthenerd @icedbluesoul @the-church-grimm @overtherose @sara0055

@dannyphantomphan @nonbinary-disaster @depressed-bitchy-demon @8-29pm @addie-lover-of-stories @lifefilledwithstories @apointlessbox @skulld3mort-1fan @katgirl05 @spookytragedyshark @mandyne-1001 @ascetic-orange @booklover9114 @qualifiedpasta @mouzerequis @fleeting-mists @gin2212 @rollthatcritical @kaitouhime @itsloveleo @litlecameron @phantom-dc @hippityhoppity-iownyourbones @pastalavistamf @kokoroluna @legowerewolf @riasthelustful @agreatcheesecakestudentstuff

@akintoabitch @snowblub @isaactheautobot @jaguarthecat @ventureingonwings

[fookinavocadosman]

episode 1: paradise blues {HS}

It’s the first day of the retreat and y/n is struggling not to pounce on Harry. Secrets are revealed and more secrets are being made. 

warnings: none really. teasing. smut... (maybe)

word count: 2.5k

This morning was a rude awakening.

Literally.

First, Harry decided to tease me awake by using the hand he had on my stomach, letting his fingers play with the tiny bow on my underwear. Then, before I could fully be aware of my surroundings the lights in the bedroom turned on causing, everyone to groan. I bury my head back into the pillow as Harry nuzzles closer to me when a ding is heard throughout the room.

“Good morning. Today is your first full day at the retreat. Enjoy your first day of celibacy.” Lana announces throughout the room and no one makes a move to get up. Harry pushes his hips into mine pulling me closer to him with his arm.

“I don’t want to get up.” He mumbles and I sigh reaching my hand back to thread my fingers through his hair.

“Neither do I.” I mumble back. We all stay in bed before someone actively starts to get ready for the day. I eventually get Harry to let me go and I get ready putting on a black and white bikini before heading out to the pool. I join Niall, Louis, Ava, and Riley in the pool while Sage and Zayn lounge around on the chairs.

“So how are y’all feeling about this retreat so far?” I ask them and most of them respond with shrugs. 

“Upset that I took time off work to do this but it’s whatever nothing I can do now.” Ava says and Riley agrees with her. 

“Who knew that getting chicks would bite me in the ass.” Niall comments and we all laugh.

“God I can’t believe we're getting cockblocked by a fucking cone.” Louis also comments making us laugh even harder. Once everyone settles we begin to talk about our home lives among other things and I begin to observe everyone's behaviors. Niall and Riley seem to be getting close as well as Ava and Louis but I can’t tell what everyone’s motives are towards each other. Eventually, the topic gears back to the retreat when Riley asks a question.

“How much do you guys think the fines are going to be?”

“I think like a peck is going to be $100 and then like a make out would be like $300.” Ava is the first to speak up and I agree with her but Niall shakes his head.

“Knowing that this is supposed to be “rehab” it’s probably worth a good chunk of money. Like a kiss is probably $1000 or something ridiculous.” I shrug my shoulders also agreeing.

“Yeah but let’s hope it’s the first one so we can break the rules more often.” I say and everyone laughs. We stay in the pool for a little more until switching spots with Sage and Zayn. As we relax and dry off in the sun we make small talk about everyone else.

“So if you guys had a free pass to kiss anyone here who would it be? Personally I’d kiss Louis.” Ava asks everyone. Louis says Ava, Riley says Niall, and Niall says Riley to no one’s shock until it’s left to me to answer.

“Uh, probably Harry.” I answer and Ava squeals.

“Oh spill.” She instigates and I roll my eyes flipping onto my stomach.

“I mean we’ve basically been attached at the hip since the moment he arrived and he was pissed yesterday when Zayn kissed me. And he’s fucking fine. Like if this was the actual show I signed up for I’d be fucking him as much as possible.” I explain and Ava and Riley are engrossed while Louis and Niall are having a conversation of their own.

“I get it girl, I’d be jumping Niall if it was under normal circumstances.” Riley supports me while Ava nods.

“Alright I’m going to head out guys I’ll see y’all later.” I tell them waving goodbye to the boys as well as Sage and Zayn. I walk around before finding an empty area with day beds away from everyone. I close my eyes letting myself cool down in the shade until a throat clears. I peek one eye open seeing Harry standing in front of me.

“Is there room for one more?” He asks and I nod moving over so he can fit in. He gets comfortable laying on his back before turning his head to look at me.

“I haven’t seen you since this morning what have you been doing?” He asks me and I shrug.

“I was at the pool with Niall, Louis, Riley, and Ava.” I answer him and he nods.

“How was that?”

“It was good. We just hung out and talked.” I smile as he rolls onto his side to face me his eyes tracing my body up and down. His hand comes to rest on my stomach and I take in a deep breath. He removes his hand from my stomach places it on my hip and rolls me onto my side so we face each other. Our foreheads touch and if I lean any closer we would kiss.

“Careful. We don’t want to break any rules.” I tease him and he smirks letting out a small chuckle.

“You’re right.” He leans back slightly, his hand rubbing up and down my side.

“Lana never said anything about teasing.” Harry says and I shake my head.

“Don’t you even think about it.” I chastise him, bringing my hand up and pausing his movements. A smirk lines his lips as he pulls me into his chest. I sigh as my head rests on his chest hearing his heartbeat. 

His hand rubs up and down my back playing with my hair every couple of passes and I feel peaceful. I eventually move my head up to look at Harry and I see he’s already looking at me. The tension between us is thick. He dips his head down as I crane mine up and we are about to kiss but he pulls away.

“Don’t want to break the rules now do we?” He teases me and I let out a breath shaking my head as he smiles. He gets up from the day bed holding out his hand and I gladly accept it letting him pull me up. We head inside to the bedroom and see Zayn, Liam, Sage, and Kate all sitting on the bed playing with condoms. I stop in my tracks as I stare confused.

“Where the fuck did you guys get condoms?” I ask and they turn toward me before laughing.

“They were in the cabinets!” Sage laughs while Kate starts blowing one up. I make my way towards them grabbing one to open. I blow it up and tie it off before tucking it under my arm.

“Guys meet Dickie.” I announce holding him up and everyone laughs. I put him on the bed Harry and I share as Harry shakes his head at me.

“Am I getting kicked out of bed for a condom balloon?” He asks and I shrug.

“Be good and we’ll see.” I tease him. He rolls his eyes at me as I sit down on the bed letting myself decompress. A while passes when someone new enters the room and I notice it’s Niall.

“Hey, guys Lana wants us to meet in the cabana.” He tells us and we all nod making our way outside. I sit next to Sage as Harry sits next to me resting his hand on my thigh. We all talk as everyone makes their way to the cabana and once everyone is there Lana dings.

“I have news for everyone.” She begins and people start murmuring about what it could possibly be.

“There has been a breach of the rules.” Everyone’s jaws drop and Harry turns his head to look at me. I widen my eyes not knowing what to do and he squeezes my thigh to reassure me.

“Alright fess up who did it?” Kate asks looking around and I shrug my shoulders staying quiet. No one speaks and people start getting upset. I look back at Harry and he sighs.

“Y/N and I kissed last night.” He announces and I drop my head as everyone shoots theirs to look at us.

“Bloody hell.” Liam groans and Sage lightly slaps my shoulder.

“Your rule break has cost the group $3,000. The prize fund now stands at $97,000.” Lana breaks the tension in the room causing everyone’s jaws to drop. I hold my head in my hands as Harry wraps an arm around my shoulder. I feel a head drop onto my shoulder and soon a voice whispers into my ear,

“Was it at least worth it?” Sage asks and I nod my head and I soon feel her pat my back. I get up from the couch muttering a sorry to everyone before heading inside. Why do I feel so guilty? I’m broken out of my thoughts by Harry calling after me making me stop in my tracks. He catches up to me putting his hands on my face tilting my head up.

“Are you okay?” He asks and I shrug my shoulders.

“I don’t know. I feel bad.” I tell him and he slightly pouts his lips.

“Do you regret it?” He finally asks the looming question and I sigh.

“I know I should but I don’t.” I tell him and he stays silent.

“Do you?” I question back and he immediately shakes his head.

“After even knowing everything that happens I would do it all over again.” He tells me and I let out a slight chuckle dropping my head.

“Keep saying things like that and we’re going to lose another 3k.” I mumble and I hear him chuckle.

“Don’t tempt me.” He whispers kissing my forehead. As the night continues Zayn and Sage get sent on a date by Lana and we all watched from the cabana. It seems like it went well considering when they got back to the bedroom they climbed into bed together.

Harry and I make small talk when the lights go off considering neither of us are tired. His hand runs up and down my side under the covers. As we talk every once and a while his fingers will stop to toy with the band of my underwear. 

When my eyes start to droop he turns me over pulling my back to his chest letting his right arm act as a pillow for my head as his left trails down my stomach his fingertips just barely going past the band of my underwear. I take in a slight breath at the action and he lightly sushes me. His fingertips go past the band but that’s as far as he goes, his hand stays there his thumb moving back and forth along the top.

“I’m pretty sure this is against the rules.” I tilt my head as close as I can to his ear and he lets out a light chuckle. He dips his head down so his lips graze my ear making sure the camera can’t see the movement of his lips.

“No one will know as long as you don’t make a fuss.” He whispers back placing a kiss to my ear before returning his head to its original position. His hand then slides down a little more so his fingertips rest just above my clit. It takes everything in me to keep my breathing steady and not buck my hips against his hand. His lips graze my ear again as he leans in closer.

“Now be a good girl and turn your head into the pillow and pretend like you’re falling asleep.” His voice is raspy, the lust too much for him to handle. I nod my head making it look like I’m snuggling my head into the pillow and I feel his chest vibrate as he hums in approval. 

He adjusts his body slightly so he can move my leg so he has more access to me, his head nuzzles against my neck, and I assume he does it to hide any reactions or movements that can be picked up by the camera. His fingers tease me moving up and down but never touching my clit. After a while when it can be presumed, we're both asleep his fingers finally move down connecting with my clit. My breath nearly catches but I keep my breathing steady to not arouse suspicion.

He rubs lightly at first moving his fingers in a figure 8 but soon he applies more pressure and I feel my stomach start to burn. It’s taking every fiber of my being to stay calm and collected. His fingers eventually dip down playing with the wetness leaking out of my entrance and I feel his chest vibrate against me. His fingers lightly move up and down my slit before one is placed at my entrance. 

My core flutters against the tip of his finger and he takes a second before slowly pushing his finger into me. I subtly bite the pillow to keep any noises from coming out of my mouth as his finger fills me. He slowly moves his finger in and out, caressing my g-spot with every movement. I feel the tingle in my stomach and my hand under the covers grasps his wrist lightly and he stops his movements.

“Do you want me to stop baby?” He asks, voice muffled by the pillow. My voice is low and muffled as I respond. 

“I need more.” His hand moves so two fingers are now positioned at my entrance. As he pushes both in, a slight moan escapes me making him stop his movements.

“Shh baby.” He whispers, and he begins his movements again going slower. His fingers fill me perfectly. Thick and long hitting all the right spots. His fingers thrust in and out of me and I bite my lip muffling any sounds.

“Such a good girl for me.” His thrusts remain consistent until he curls his finger hitting my g-spot. I nearly scream as he continues hitting the sensitive spot, my thighs trying to close around his hand but failing because of the way he’s positioned me. My breathing begins to pick up and I can feel my body overheat. The coil in my abdomen tightens, my core tightening around Harry’s fingers.

“I’m gonna cum.” I whisper into the pillow and Harry’s movements pick up slightly. I push my head down into the pillow in an effort to muffle the noises that slip out of my throat. The coil breaks and my breath catches as the pleasure rushes through my body. His fingers work me through the high and I feel his lips pucker against my neck. 

When I come down I pull on his wrist and he stops his movements cupping my heat. He pulls his hand away slipping his fingers through the wetness now covering my panties as his hand comes to rest on my mound. I regain control of my breathing as he rubs his thumb along my stomach. He lets out a long breath pulling me closer to him and I can feel how hard he is against me. I bring my hand back palming him but he pulls it away.

“I’m fine, now go to sleep.” He whispers. I relax against his hold and let the rise and fall of his chest and the beat of his heart lull me to sleep. 

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[abarbaricyalp]

If Only In My Dreams

It's not Christmas anymore. To be fair, I had this dream on the 27th anyway Some SarahBucky Christmas chaos You can find this fic on AO3 here

It was well past two in the morning, but Sarah was nowhere near sleep. She could feel exhaustion swirling at the edges of her subconscious, but adrenaline, fear, and a fair bit of anger was keeping it at bay. It was Christmas Eve (Christmas Day now?), and instead of being at home, putting out her mama’s reindeer food with the boys and wrapping last minute gifts, they were all sequestered to the new Avengers Headquarters in DC. The building wasn’t even finished yet–there were no other heroes here–but the threat against Sam “and his family” was severe enough to land them here.

She was pretty certain the boys hadn’t realized how serious this was yet. Sam had the same voice their mama did when it came to pretending that things were fine when they were not. Sarah hadn’t inherited it. She developed her own as a parent, and she was sure the boys were slowly beginning to pick up on it the longer she used it. But they didn’t recognize Sam’s, so they believed him when he called this a ‘fun sleepover’ and a ‘secret mission’ instead. But Sarah had heard it. It had sent her heart roiling against her ribs and it hadn’t stopped since she’d answered the phone.

She hated this building. It was so industrial. There were few windows. By design, she supposed. The living quarters were small and bland. There were no colors, no soft spaces. Someone had put two beds into the same room for the boys to use. Someone–Sam or Bucky probably–had thought to grab their blankets and pillows from their rooms at home, but there were no other comforts for them.

Not that they seemed to notice. Someone–again, Sam or Bucky–had converted a meeting room into a movie theater with every other set of bedding in the compound, she thought, laid out on the floor to make a huge movie pit. They’d had full run of the place for the last few days and had charmed all of the extra security that had been assigned to Sam for this threat.

Sam stayed near her and Bucky stayed near the boys, which meant they were all usually in the same room. For the boys, she imagined this did feel almost completely right. All the important people were around them. They were baking and watching movies and concocting ridiculous games with indecipherable rules. 

Sarah, though, knew that tomorrow there’d be no presents, no tree, no reindeer prints on the front porch. The stockings were left over the fireplace, along with the CDs that always played all morning. There’d be no Christmas service and no community party afterwards. She knew it was ridiculous to worry about things like that when there was real danger, but it was Christmas. The boys deserved those things.

Behind her, someone pointedly knocked their knuckles on the doorframe and then came into the kitchen. Sarah looked up from the sugar cookie she was decorating and found Barnes making his way along the perimeter of the space, clearly counting cabinets as he went. He was barely dressed down for bed, in a t-shirt and athletic shorts, rather than the half-done gear he’d been wearing during the day. She imagined he only wasn’t fully done up because he was entertaining the boys, rather than standing sentinel. Still, he looked terribly real like this. It brought some of the comfort of home to this sterile place. She’d woken many mornings to find him halfway through cooking breakfast in an outfit very similar to this. Usually he was barefoot at home, but the even the sneakers he wore now weren’t his typical ready-to-go-boots. 

He finally stopped in front of a cabinet and opened it to reveal rows of blank white mugs. He took down one of a handful that didn’t match–a huge blue thing with the Captain America shield on it–and then set about getting an electric kettle going and tearing open a hot chocolate packet.

“Sam said you were practically nocturnal, but I didn’t believe him ‘cause you sleep like the dead at my house,” Sarah greeted as she went back to the cookie she was decorating.

Bucky snorted. “Sam only says that ‘cause I’m better at napping than him. Sorry to bother you. I didn’t know you were up too. I mean, I thought you might be when the door was open but…”

The kettle turned on and Bucky came to sit in the chair next to the one Sarah was sitting in at the head of the table. In front of her, four pans of sugar cookies sat with various degrees of decorating completion done on them. Most of them were simple. Stars and trees and stockings. But Sarah had created royal icing and found, of all things, a piping set. The decorations were elaborate and lovely. Also kind of boring to do over and over again. She kept jumping to the next shape to keep her mind and hands occupied.

“These are like the videos Sam’s always watching online. This is great. I didn’t know you could do this,” Bucky complimented. He reached out for a Santa hat and traced the seams of the icing colors.

“My college roommate was a baker,” Sarah explained. She’d had to take a deep breath, center herself back to someone pleasant and accommodating, rather than scared and scatterbrained and feeling particularly solitary. Bucky, of all people, would understand, but Sarah still wouldn’t take the risk, wouldn’t put all of that one the man trying to keep them safe. “I spent a lot of time helping her decorate. She’s got a whole confectionary shop in New Orleans now. It’s amazing. The best beignets I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah, Sam said you knew what you were talking about when it came to sweets. I couldn’t just bake my way out of the doghouse.”

Sarah chuckled softly. “Now I can say, Sam only said that ‘cause you can absolutely bake your way out of his doghouse. Boy’s got about 32 sweet tooths.”

“Yeah, I noticed that in his coffee order,” Bucky agreed. He fell quiet again, watching her studiously.

Barnes was something else. From what she’d seen of him, there was nothing to complain about. He was helpful and kind, fiercely loyal and protective. The boys, Sam included, had taken a shine to him that probably would never tarnish. He was handsome and charming in a way that made her stomach get kind of swoopy sometimes like it hadn’t in a while. And she wasn’t blind. She had seen him trip over all his suaveness in an attempt to impress her too. She’d seen him blush when she caught him staring. And she caught him quite a lot. His stare was easy to feel on her.

At the same time, she knew about his history. Sam had told her quite a bit and then Bucky had sat her down as well, before he’d moved to Louisiana himself. The conversation had taken days as he recounted terrible things that he’d done and that had been done to him. She’d read what she could, tried to remember all those news stories from 2014, but she’d mostly been so angry and worried about Sam at the time that she hadn’t paid much attention to the other actors in the whole spectacle.

She tried to find the threads connecting that man to the one beside her now. It was something she did often. But they were expertly tucked into seams and embroidered over. No more puppet strings. No more leashes. Just the foundation strands he’d built upon.

“I’m sorry about all this,” he said suddenly.

Sarah glanced up at him from where she was dotting lights onto a tree. “Did you call in the threat?” she humored.

Bucky ducked his head and then shook it. “Nah, I just mean taking you away from home and all. These things happen all the time.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Bucky blushed deeply. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean…I don’t want you to worry. You’re safe here. We’ll get this taken care of.”

“I know,” she said and let her own doubt into her voice. She finished the lights on the cookie and then looked at him again. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you part of the team trynna find the guy threatening Sam?”

Bucky looked surprised for a moment. “Sam wanted me here. He gets antsy when I have the chance to make a bad decision. There was this woman a few weeks ago who–” He clicked his teeth together with an audible snap and glanced at her apologetically, though he hadn’t gotten to the bad part yet. “Uh, well, anyway. I just don’t like people messing with him. Or any of you guys. And with the kids and you here, we thought it was best if we both stayed.” He was quiet for another second and then added, “I am helping. Going through the data. Directing teams.”

“Strike Team Winter Soldier?” Sarah teased softly.

“Ha! That would be a great name for a team. You’re a natural at this. Let me see about getting you a job with us.” He smiled his dazzling smile and Sarah had to look back to the cookies she was decorating.

It was different than the way the butcher down on Main would wink at her as he air-boxed with Cass and complimented her outfit, no matter how messy she was. Different than Carlos’ shameless flirting when he wanted some free fish. Something about the way Bucky smiled at her, like the way he looked at her, warmed her straight down to the soul. There was no pretense, no hiding, no airs.

Which was to say nothing of the way he hugged her too. The world could stop spinning during those hugs.

Even just his presence in this ridiculous cutting-edge, bland, silver kitchen had warmed the space more than the oven running for hours as she baked.

Just for now, she was going to put away the fear and anger and worry. She was going to set aside all the things they weren’t getting this year. She wasn’t going to think about her house and its lights and the tree in the window. She was just going to enjoy a few minutes with a handsome man who liked her so blatantly it made her go lightheaded.

“Nah, I couldn’t work with you,” she said flippantly, even as her stomach somersaulted. “You’d be too distracting.”

“Oh, would I?” Bucky asked and raised an eyebrow. He scooted his chair closer in some slick move that meant his hands never left the table as he moved them closer to hers. His long fingers trailed over hers until he could coax the icing bag from her grip, and then he pressed her open palm to his, held his other hand over hers. “How could I possibly be that distracting?”

Sarah turned her hand over between his and traced the inside of his wrist. His metal hand was beneath hers, so his pulse fluttered against her touch now. Nothing, other than a hitch in the base of his neck, gave away the tripping of his pulse. He kept his face smooth and amused and endeared.

“Well, take tonight for example,” she said. He hummed encouragingly. “I was here, working away, and you showed up and literally took things out of my hands.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” he apologized dramatically and made as if he was going to get up.

Sarah curled her fingers around his wrist to keep him still. His pulse jumped again as he settled back into the seat. “And I think you’d be very serious at work.” He tilted his head at her. “So I might spend a lot of time trying to make you smile.”

A small, shy smile came out then, like it was summoned. “And why would you do that?”

“I like your smile,” she admitted. “I think you should do it more often.”

“Even at work?” Bucky asked. “That’s hardly fair, Ms. Wilson. I like your smile too but I don’t think you do it at work very often either.”

“Well, maybe you’d need to figure out how to make me smile too,” she suggested.

“So we’d both be distracted.”

Sarah inclined her head now. “Maybe we would. So it would be a terrible idea for me to work with you.”

Bucky’s pulse, which had leveled out at a steady gallop, surged beneath her fingers. “I don’t mind being distracted. Not if it’s you distracting me.”

Of all the corny lines Sarah had ever heard, there was something about the sincerity in Barnes’ voice that made that one one of the best. “Maybe I don’t like being distracted.”

“It wouldn’t actually be a problem,” Bucky promised. “See, if you’re worried that you’ll be too busy thinking about how to make me smile, all you gotta do is come into my eyesight. I’ll smile right away for you.”

“Well, now,” Sarah said, refusing to let all of the emotions trying to make her lovesick win out, “that makes its own problem.”

“Oh, what is it now?” Bucky moaned dramatically.

Sarah stifled a laugh against her shoulder. She pressed the pads of her fingers closer to his skin, traced along the pale blue vein on his forearm to his elbow. He moved closer like she was reeling him in. “If you smiled too much around me, then I’d want you to do something else too.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked. “Name it. I’ll do it. Anything to keep you distraction free.”

“No, this would be a pretty big distraction,” she said. Bucky, several steps ahead of her, was also swaying in towards her. She took another moment to enjoy the warmth of his arm before she pulled away entirely, leaning back in her chair and bringing her hand with her. Bucky deflated as soon as she wasn’t touching him. “So I wouldn't be able to work with you.”

Even pouting, he still looked smitten. “Ma’am, you were just the distracting one.”

Sarah laughed and shook her head. “Another reason to keep us apart during the work day. Case-in-point, your kettle’s been done for at least five minutes.”

Bucky startled a little, glancing over his shoulder at the electrical kettle, which had switched to its ‘warm’ setting and was condensating on the inside. “You want some chocolate?” he asked as he stood.

Because she was still not thinking about how terrible these few days were, she said yes and pointed to a Wilson Family Seafood mug in the cupboard. He made the hot chocolates in record time and came to sit knee-to-knee with her again.

“How did you possibly extricate yourself from the cuddle puddle the boys had you in?” she asked as she waited for her drink to cool down.

“Have I mentioned I’m an expert spy?” Bucky asked with a teasing grin. “I can get outta most places without being noticed.”

“Nah, I saw the way AJ was clinging onto your arm. I’m surprised you didn’t just take it off and leave him with it.”

Bucky laughed with his head thrown back. Sarah’s whole core warmed, from her stomach to her chest. “Now, why can’t I ever think of doing something like that?”

“Work smarter not harder, Barnes.”

Bucky grinned and drank his hot chocolate because apparently being a super soldier gave him super heat resistance. “Well, I have to admit, I didn’t come straight out here,” he confessed. “There were a few things I wanted to do first. Could I show you? It’s just in the common room.”

Sarah couldn’t imagine anything that Bucky had needed to do in the common room would have any bearing on her, except maybe if he’d actually fixed the TV so the boys didn’t have full control of the one working one in the compound. But she picked up the mug of hot chocolate and followed after him.

The common room was bathed in a warm light from the one lamp in the corner. The overhead fluorescents were off. And there Christmas lights tacked up to the wall. It transformed the entire space from something cold and foreign to a warm welcome. Beneath the lights, there were a pile of gifts.

“Are those…” Sarah started to ask, though she knew the answer. She knew what wrapping paper she’d bought for this year. She knew the sizes of the boxes.

Bucky shifted a little nervously next to her. “Yeah. When I went back to secure the house, I found them. I figured you’d want them.”

The stack looked more like a mirage, a dream, than something real. She kept expecting them to disappear when she blinked. Suddenly, all the roiling emotions that had kept her company for the past several days turned over onto their heads. She was almost so happy and grateful that it was starting to circle back around to tears.

“I, uh, had to wrap a few. I’m really not any good at it. But hopefully the kids won’t even notice,” he continued to explain in embarrassed little starts and stops when she didn’t immediately respond. “You shoulda seen the guys making fun of me on the ride back. Taped my thumb down at one point.”

Sarah reached for his hand quickly, curled her fingers around his and tugged him close to hug him tightly. “You did this for them?”

Bucky didn’t hesitate to hug her back. He held her tighter when she started to shake with emotion and rubbed her back in soothing, grounding motions. His cheek rested on the crown of her head. “Of course I did. For you too, Sarah. You’ve gotta know it was for you too.”

She pressed her face to his neck and collarbone, took in a deep breath of his clean, sharp smell beneath generic laundry detergent.  “Thank you,” she breathed and squeezed her eyes shut.

“You don’t gotta thank me for anything. This is still part of the apology. You should be at home. I just wanted to bring a little bit of home back for you.”

Sarah was still too overcome to say anything, so she just held him tighter. It wasn’t until his palm found its way to her cheek that she finally lifted her face to look at him again. In the dim lights, his blue eyes were practically sparkling, like he was some kind of Christmas card come to life.

“Hey, I got you something too. Figured it’s already Christmas, right?” He pulled a light colored jewelry box from the coffee table beside them and offered it to her. “I don’t know what makes this artisan jewelry, but I’m pretty sure these are the charms you wanted.”

The necklace had a sunflower and a butterfly charm hung on it, with a dainty stone bead between them. They were, in fact, two of the charms that she’d mentioned passingly when the catalog had come in the mail months ago. There was also a ring in the box with three hearts–one big and two little–tumbling across the band.

“Bucky,” she started to say, looking up at him. “This is–”

His hand was on her cheek again–he really did have the longest fingers she’d ever seen–and suddenly they were falling together. She’d never have really thought about the scant inches of difference between her and Bucky’s height, but now, as he dipped his face towards hers and she felt the girlish need to tiptoe up, it was all she could think about.

Bucky was as good at kissing as he was at hugging. His mouth was softer than she had imagined it would be. Not that she did a lot of imagining about Bucky’s mouth, of course. He also leaned into her like he wanted to become the thing that kept her upright, held her face preciously, swooped his thumb over her cheekbone. It all made her lightheaded. She had to place her hands on his chest to stay standing. Otherwise she might just pitch right into him and melt between his ribs.

Somehow, a stuttered breath escaped her lips and Bucky pulled back just enough to brush their noses together. Still, she could see his wide eyes and worried expression.

“Sorry, I forget I don’t have to breathe the same–”

Sarah leaned up to kiss him quiet. He made a pleased, shocked little noise into her mouth, but easily kissed her again. “I was right,” she said when she was sure he wasn’t going to argue again. “You are distracting.”

Bucky grinned and shook his head, dark hair falling into his face. “No, I was right. You’re the distracting one. I don’t know how I’m gonna do anything else again now that I know what that feels like.”

“You better figure it out, ‘cause I need you to put this necklace on.”

Bucky preened and jolted into action, taking the box from her hands and freeing the necklace. He offered the ring out without trying to put it on her finger for her. Then he brushed aside her braids, trailed his fingers over her bare neck, leaned down to kiss some number of her vertebrae reverently, making goosebumps erupt over her skin and a heavy flush follow after his lips. He pulled away after a moment, when her fingers had found his wrist again, and he carefully clipped the necklace in place. He smoothed the chain down over her collarbones, to the top of her sternum before remembering his manners and going no further.

“It suits you,” he said when she turned to face him again, eyes bright. He brushed his thumb over the chain where it sat against the curve of her neck, his hand resting high up on her shoulder, ready to go to her cheek again, pull her close once more, kiss her senseless all over again.

She reached up to touch the charms gently and smiled shyly. “Thank you, Bucky,” she said softly. “This means so much. Especially now.”

“You deserve the world, Sarah,” Bucky said earnestly, shifting his hand just enough to brush his thumb over her cheek. He took a half step closer to her. “Every happiness and beautiful things and joyful Christmases.”

Sarah finished crossing the distance between them and draped her arms around his neck. “Well, superhero, you might’ve just managed to save this one.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about, Ms. Wilson,” he teased, leaning down until his mouth was almost against hers. “This is the best Christmas I’ve had in a long time.”

“How’re you gonna beat it next year?” she wondered, closing her eyes and enjoying the warmth of his body against hers.

“Oh, you want me around next year too, huh? Already got plans?”

“So many plans, Barnes.”

He hugged his arms around her waist and nodded. “I’m all yours,” he promised.

And they kissed again.

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[freesia-writes]

Chapter 23: Revelation

During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with this disillusioned Padawan-turned-mechanic named Vel throughout the events in this action-adventure romance. COVER ART BY @zaana!!

Master List of Chapters

"I still do not understand," Tech insisted, "By virtually any measurement, I followed the correct course of action considering the circumstances." He was pacing back and forth in their accommodation on Alderaan while the others lounged in various states of rest.

"This sort of thing is more complex than military strategy," Hunter responded.

"Yeah!" Wrecker contributed from the corner, through a mouthful of some kind of meat he was eating off a bone, "Women, you know?"

"He doesn't know," Crosshair sneered from the table, where his 773 was laid out in a meticulous pattern for each part to receive a thorough scrutiny, "This is all ridiculous, and not at all our purpose."

"Well, you tried," Hunter interjected with a calming tone, "So that should give you closure."

"It would if it all added up," Tech argued, stopping his pacing momentarily, "But it simply does not make sense."

"Look, I know you're hurt--" Hunter answered.

"I am not hurt," Tech interrupted, far too quickly for it to be true, "It is simply an illogical pattern of cause and effect. I shall determine the confounding variable, then we may proceed."

"You're not the one who gets to determine that," Crosshair said, "You seem to forget you are a soldier of the Republic, not a free-roaming pleasure-seeker."

"We have a couple of weeks here," Hunter said, "So use your free time as you wish, but when it's time to go..."

"I am aware," Tech answered.

***

Vel rolled the spanner in her fingers, brow furrowing once again. She took a deep breath, the scents of repair bay a familiar and soothing cocktail of machinery and solvents. A week had passed since the squad had appeared, reviving the tumult inside that had been thoroughly stifled by months of hurt and new interest. None if it made sense, though. Things had been going so smoothly with Arthen, and then this last week had felt decidedly off. His even-tempered, cheerful demeanor had shifted noticeably; he seemed oddly possessive and wanted to know far more about her plans than usual. 

When asked about it, he brushed it off as concern for her, followed by distraction through a variety of means, from discussing future plans to lavishing her with affection. It had come to a head a few times, when he found her perusing the holonet and angrily insisted on reviewing her communication log and her indignation was provoking.

And then there was Tech. She knew he was still there because she could see their ship in the yard with its neatly folded wings, and she fought to stuff down the memories. She longed to talk to him but refused to be jilted again, yet there was a nagging feeling that she couldn't quite resolve. She set the spanner on a nearby table and went to return her protective gear to the utility closet. 

The repair bay door whooshed open. She turned, expecting to see Arthen, but felt her heart skip a beat as Tech's frame appeared in the doorway. He entered tentatively, fully armored, and looked around the room through his helmet visor, locating her after an inquisitive scan of the surroundings.

"Vel," he began, heading straight for her as he lifted his visor, "There is something I have to tell you."

Possibility after possibility flew through her mind, words that she had hoped to hear him say for so long, but each one felt like a barbed insult after months of being ignored. 

"I don't know if I want to hear it, Tech," she said, feeling her resolve lessen slightly as he drew near. She had forgotten the way he looked in his helmet, large brown eyes shining from its geometric shape, antennae accentuating every movement of his head. 

"I must insist. Please," he said, voice betraying a hint of desperation that seemed so out of character, it increased the gravity of the situation. "Things are not as they have appeared, and I have determined why. I believe this information will change your perception of our current situation."

Now she was curious, though resentfully so, and his earnestness won her over. "Let's hear it then," she said, leaning on the cabinet behind her.

"I tapped into the central communication database to track the many transmissions I sent to you during our time apart. It appears they were re-routed to the medical center staff instead of delivered to your patient inbox. Am I correct in assuming that none of my messages were relayed to you verbally?"

Vel shook her head, partially to indicate her answer and partially in an attempt to rattle her brain into sorting all of this out. She was reeling at the information and what it could mean, and was fortunately spared from speech.

"I surmised as much," Tech continued, his voice rising in volume. "Vel, I was forced to leave during your slumber, therefore I immediately dispatched a transmission to you when we left." He took a step closer, shifting uncomfortably on his feet yet keeping his amber eyes fixed on hers. "I continued to do so on a regular basis, after each mission. I determined it appropriate to share with you the revelations I received upon an analysis of my feelings and proceeded to do so in a variety of ways. You have been at the forefront of my thoughts, often invasively so, and I have anticipated with eagerness a time in which we would be reunited."

It took her a minute to translate it all... the admittance, the implications... the vulnerability. Her heart leapt into her throat as the realization dawned on her, and her assumptions built over the last number of months began to crumble. She was staggering beneath the weight of it all when Tech continued.

"I have attempted to contain, divert, or repress these thoughts, but it appears the emotional system will run its course regardless of mental prowess. In vain have I struggled, and it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed." As he finished, he mentally reviewed his speech and determined it was not the work of art he had hoped. 

"I don't know what to say," Vel said softly, rubbing her head with a hand. 

"I have three things, then," Tech responded in his irresistibly factual manner, "First of all, I would recommend you explore the reason behind the diversion of your communications, using this information." He stepped closer, pressing a data card into her hand before taking a step back and continuing, "Secondly, I encountered this blossom on Glee Anselm and thought of you; I hoped it would bring you delight in its unique ability to bloom for an entire year when kept submerged in water." He produced a small, clear sphere from his utility pouch, holding it up in front of her. The pale green blossom within it caught the light, and she felt a small smile creep onto her face at its delicate beauty. 

"It is almost a precise match to the color of your irises," Tech said, and she looked at him in wonder. 

"Everyone assumes my eyes are grey," Vel said, suddenly feeling as though she might cry.

"Assumptions are often inaccurate when investigated further," He continued, unfazed. "Thirdly, before I leave, I want you to know that I will respect any decision you make in regard to our further interactions. You may respond at your own convenience and comfort." He stepped closer to her, tilting his head amiably, and placed the flower sphere in her other hand before giving almost a slight bow as he turned and left.

Vel stood motionless, jaw slack and eyes wide. The sphere felt weightless in her hand, but the meaning it contained rested heavily on her mind. She had some reflecting to do. 

Author's Note -- Yes, I stole a couple lines from Pride and Prejudice. ;)

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[dainesanddaffodils]

Y’all uh. holy fucking shit I’ve finished Endwalker! So here we have the last (pre-Dawntrial) breakdown of Cimorene’s feelings on her friends and comrades!

Thoughts post-ARR | Thoughts post-Heavensward | Thoughts post-Stormblood | Thoughts post-Shadowbringers

And now, without further ado, Cimorene Greystone’s post-Endwalker relationship vibes!!

Estinien - after some awkward dancing around it - that everyone picked up on - they’re finally officially lovers (after he came to her room. you know the moment.) Cimorene truly loves everything about this ridiculous man, trusts and understands and respects him and knows he feels the same - but also neither is really used to a Conventional Courtship so currently things are a little touch-and-go as they figure out where they want to go moving forward

Alphinaud - her dearest and most beloved baby brother now and always. There is nothing more to say; he means everything to her.

Alisaie - her dearest and darlingest baby sister now and always. Deserves the fucking world and also A Break.

Thancred - the work friend to real friend pipeline kicked into high gear this expansion, though admittedly for a minute it was much more on his side than hers (and took her off guard when she realized how close he considered them). Now he’s a bestie and she cares deeply for him.

Urianger - you did it buddy! you got Cimorene to care about you! Maybe if, as you yourself point out, you’d talked to her before now it would have been sooner! Nonetheless better late than never and she looks upon you - and your relationship with Thancred - with fondness.

Y'shtola - bestie now and always. Cimorene loved getting to spend more time with her while dealing with the Thirteenth. She thinks her world-hopping ambitions are a bit Insane, but like, affectionately - and also if anyone could pull it off, it's her. She can't wait to see where she goes, figuratively and literally.

Krile - That's! Cimorene's! mom! She loves her very much and she is thrilled beyond words that she's going to be on their next adventure, properly. It's what she fucking deserves! (but also nothing is allowed to hurt her or Cimorene will riot)

G'raha - is a lot more chill with him now that he, himself, is a little more chill around her. I'd still say she considers him like a close work friend, but like, she's open to that growing down the line

Tataru - absolute fucking queen who 100% deserves her own trade empire. Cimorene has her back for anything she needs going forward

Vrtra - Cimorene loves him so so so much. Her strong attachment to Midgardsormr means that she met Vrtra and felt immediately protective of him (and he, in turn, of her). Conversely, however, she never feels… at ease around Varshahn because he constantly gives her Uncanny Valley Heebie-Jeebies, even though she knows it’s Vrtra. In spite of this she still cares deeply and would do anything for him.

Matsya - BEST BOYYYYYYYY full stop lmao

Nidhana - Cimorene is like, ever so slightly intimidated by her and her scientific enthusiasm but like, also not in a bad way. Cimorene's just not science-minded at all so half of the things she says go very much over her head. But she's so sweet that it doesn't really matter in the end

Hythlodaeus - i the player love him. Cimorene loves him. Cimorene’s Azem loved him. Most beloved of characters of all time methinks

Hades - Cimorene’s Azem’s relationship with him is that one post that’s like “ships that appear unhealthy but when you consider the two people involved this is actually the healthiest thing for them” and that colors a lot of how Cimorene interacts with him. Like this constant “fuck you” said with unbearable levels of affection.

Venat - Cimorene never, uh, fully trusted Hydaelyn and she feels really bad about that now lmao Venat is so good and Cimorene now holds her in such high esteem like. This woman is Everything.

Hermes - She feels bad for him... like, she does, really. But also. Your hubris, man. Your hubris. She watches him unintentionally orchestrate his and his world's downfall with such precision and is helpless to stop him and so it's never hate. it's not even pity. It's just a sad, tired resignation.

Meteion - baby girl you never asked for this. you just wanted flowers and candy apples and were instead given this man's depression and existential dread and an insane amount of unstable untested power. this wasn't your fault. like... it was, but Cimorene never blames her.

Themis - *DISTRESSED SOBBING*

Zenos - no amount of philosophical posturing is going to convince Cimorene that you have anything whatsoever in common - or even make you interesting to her. she does not think about you at all. leave her alone.

Zero - took all of 5 seconds for Cimorene to say 'this is my sibling now.' She's very protective of her but also is always worried she'll say the wrong thing while teaching her the World - and is glad others have also hopped in to help in that regard. Is so proud of her growth and her heart. Wants only good things for her now and always

… and that’s all she wrote!! This is kinda insane to think about really

See you all in Dawntrail!!

[talesmaniac89]

Charity Heist 1 - aka. The Pre-Coffee Preamble

A Supernatural Heist AU - Masterlist

Pairing: Hitter!Dean x Thief!Reader

Summary: The Singer & Winchester Retrieval Agency is the best group of con artists in the world. But even though Y/N can crack safes, scale buildings and infiltrate even the most secure locations, she still can't find a way to deal with her all consuming feelings for the group's greek god of a hitter; Dean Winchester. How will she handle their next big heist, when she's forced to get up close and personal with the man of her dreams?

Warnings: Idiots in love, smutty thoughts, a lot of swearing and a ton of bad jokes.

Watch the trailer here

A/N: This story is 50% jokes and 50% dirty thoughts. No deep angst, just fun and action! Inspired by the series Leverage.

Y/H/C = Your Hair Colour

Next

“Settle down idjits. We’ve got a new mark,” 

Bobby Singer’s voice was clear and all business over the speaker phone in the middle of the table as the rest of your little ragtag group sank into their seats in the War Room. The gruff voice of your leader easily stopping the early morning squabble for the best breakfast bagels that was a daily occurrence at the Winchester brothers’ hideout.  

The old abandoned Cold War bunker turned high-tech heaven was the collective home and base of operations for your little group of reformed criminals. Better yet, it was comfortably swanky and freaking massive too. Clearly the work of some paranoid 1950s millionaire fearing that someone would set their claws in his bank account in the midst of a possible nuclear war. 

Choosing to instead squander the millions away himself, if your fully kitted out home was anything to go by. As the ridiculously massive underground palace not only had enough bedrooms to house a damn village, but also a random assortment of rec rooms. Ranging from understandable for an apocalypse (a gun range and gym) to just straight up showboating, like the replica Cold War operation room you were currently sitting in. 

Hell, even after living there for years you were sure there were still rooms you’d yet to explore. 

Still, the bunker was your home and workplace, all rolled into one big ball of concrete, high tech gear and enough weapons to arm a militia. Though your job was a little less ‘The Office’, and a hell of a lot more ‘Ocean's Eleven’...

Just with better intentions, actual skills and a higher level of tech. 

In short, your little group was in the business of cons, heists and all things criminal. Though you were far removed from common criminals. No, your marks weren’t the average Joe down the road with too much money lining his pockets. You had your eyes set on bigger fish, or… 

Sharks. 

As a group made up of mainly former criminals and up-to-no-gooders, you all put your skills to good use. Taking on cases from normal folk and the more righteous side of rich who’d been scammed out of their hard-earned cash. Scamming the wannabe Don Corleone’s and other evil bastards who did it right back. Usually with the added benefit of emptying their bank accounts of all their ill-gotten gains. And, as Bobby kept speaking, this seemed to be just the kind of case that would end up adding zeros to your bank account.

You might be fighting the good fight, but that didn’t mean you had to do so for free. After all, what was the point of the swanky bunker life if you couldn’t live it in relative style and comfort?

“This is a good one, real money up for grabs. So, listen close...” He added once the room quieted down. 

As always, the retired military officer was the man with the plan and the guy who decided on your cases. And, as usual, he was locked away somewhere doing God knows what, communicating with you solely via phone. By now your image of Bobby Singer was more speaker than human, or possibly Charlie from Charlie’s Angels; though you weren’t exactly spies. Well…

Not all of you anyway.

Hell, you didn’t even know where he lived. There had  been mentions of your very own kingpin owning some impressive real estate tied to the US military's automotive research and development sector once. Though, if that was true, you wished he’d put some of those resources to good use making you a batmobile. 

You really wanted a batmobile. 

Still, batmobile or no, either way, Bobby was your mastermind. He handled your debriefs, found the connections, got you in the door and more often than not left the legwork to your less-than-family-friendly Scooby gang.

Not that you minded. You loved the action that came with being one of Singer’s little foot soldiers. You got to snatch up some shiny goodies, break into places others saw as impenetrable and, overall, just kick ass. All in the name of doing good. 

Though you’d probably never admit to it in fear of sounding sappy, deciding to work for the Singer & Winchester Retrieval Agency was the best career jump you’d ever made.

Grinning into your coffee at the thought of a big payday, you kept your eyes glued on the speaker in the middle of the fully kitted out breakfast littering the table. With a new case on the horizon, you didn’t even really need the extra shot of espresso in your usual morning double. 

Pent up adrenaline was already coursing through your veins prematurely and leaving you bouncing your leg under the large briefing table. If only to have some outlet for your energy until you could get past the necessary, but boring, planning part of the con and get a piece of the actual action. 

It’d been a quiet month, and damn it… You’d been going stir crazy waiting for another case.

You needed a chance to flex your muscles and ensure your skills were still sharp. There was only so much time you could spend training in the bunker’s gym before you needed real field training again. Your sticky little thieving fingers were itching for something to snatch. 

But first, you had to do the groundwork. No matter how much the little daredevil on your shoulder was ready to shoot first and ask questions later. 

Which meant you had to begrudgingly accept the manilla folder from Sam. Throwing him a small smile that grew wider as the tall man rolled his hazel eyes at you from the way you were nearly bouncing in your seat. The big guy was the youngest of the notorious Winchester brothers, who both topped more than one international most wanted list, and your intelligence guy. 

Information and data gathering were Sam's areas of expertise. Which was why he always helped Bobby with the planning and was the task leader on the ground when the big boss wasn’t there. Which was, honestly, most of the time. 

More than anything else though… Sammy loved his folders.

Every new con had at least one for each of you. Filled to the brim with everything you needed to know to make your next heist go off without a hitch. Yours even came with highlighted sections; color coded by importance and marking the sections you had to read. Since Sam knew you had the attention span of a toddler filled to the brim with sugar and high on a particularly strong strain of mischief. 

Though, truthfully, you did read the info in his precious folders. Every single word. After the briefings. But you’d never tell him. Even under the threat of torture.

Because, even though you loved it when you actually got to stretch your muscles and test your skills, there was no question you’d be dead and buried if it wasn’t for Sam Winchester. His thorough plans and backup scenarios kept your group alive and made you one of the most dangerous con agencies in the world. Hell, before you’d met Sam, your shoot first ask questions later attitude to your own thefts had nearly gotten you killed time and time again. 

Better yet, you were also less likely to be locked behind bars with him on your side.

Having graduated top of his class from Stanford Law, he was more than qualified to keep your not-exactly-legal little group out of trouble. Putting his skills and knowledge to good use; he kept  your plans airtight and made you impenetrable to any possible retribution. Legal or otherwise. 

Judges hated him, lawyers wanted to be him and criminals wanted to hire him. But he was all yours, and by that you meant your group’s. You yourself just saw the big lug of a man as a little brother. One with a massive collection of hair products, flannels and most importantly; one you just absolutely adored annoying. 

Which was why you’d take the fact that you appreciated his folder obsession to your grave.

---

“These guys are real monsters,” 

Bobby’s voice booming over the speaker system shook you out of thoughts as you quickly skimmed the pages detailing the target of your next heist. Grimacing down at the pictures of angry looking men that filled each and every page. All looking as if they’d been typecast for some typical mobster movie; fully equipped with glaring eyes, designer suits and not-so-pleasant dispositions. 

This group seemed to be European, and industrious in their crimes based on what you’d skimmed through so far and what Bobby was saying over the phone. Focusing on white collar cons, scams, money laundering, blackmail and whatever else could net them the biggest profit. 

Which in turn equaled big money for you. Score.

You liked big money. 

It was why you’d decided to become a thief in the first place. Or at least it was why you’d stayed in the business once you ‘broke out on your own’ as you chose to think of it. 

In reality, you’d never really had a choice in the matter, having been forced into a life of crime since childhood. Kidnapped before you were even old enough to remember your parents by a group of men and women in suits who looked suspiciously similar to the ones in the manila folder. Coerced into stealing to stay alive ever since you were old enough to swipe your first piece of candy. And by candy you meant the wallets and documents your adoptive ‘family’ asked you to swipe.

Once you managed to shake them off however, you’d stayed in it for the money. Since your lack of any formal education, or hell, an actual social security number or otherwise registered identity, made it hard for you to walk the straight and narrow. Then, since partnering up with the Winchesters, there was of course also the added benefit of getting most of that cash back to the folks they’d taken it from.

Just like the real-life vigilantes you were. Minus the capes, masks, and superhero names.

Dealing out your own special type of justice to the scumbags that operated just outside the grasp of what the judicial system was capable of tackling by handling the cases that somehow bypassed punishment. Either due to the bad guys having more lawyers, taller stacks of money or the right politicians in their pockets. 

On quieter days, you’d occasionally also steal from bad guys just to, well... Steal from bad guys. Take down a ring of pervs, cause a bit of financial ruin for a mobster or maybe just make life a little bit harder for a dirty politician. ‘Cause the days, and sometimes weeks, between jobs could get boring. 

Not to mention the fact that you were one of those weirdos that loved your job, and annoying baddies just made you all… 

Tingly.

You got to go scaling buildings, play around with high tech toys, trick the best security systems in the world and totally outshine Catwoman. Which wasn’t all that hard really. You were a hell of a lot better at your job than the feline comic book character. Even without the catsuit.

For the first time in your literal life of crime, you were happy. You were doing good. 

Though, as with every vigilante, the authorities most likely wouldn’t agree with you. However, what they thought didn’t really matter in your book... Your little agency of the best fighters, specialists and con men in the world were just too fucking awesome to ever get caught. 

As Bobby would say (sometimes repeatedly while you rolled your eyes at the speaker phone); in your business, confidence was everything. It was literally in the job title. You were confidence men (and women thank-you-very-much), or con men for short. 

You could walk into FBI headquarters, knock on the head honcho's door and easily gain control of the task force out to catch you if you wanted to. It was simply a matter of pushing the right buttons, putting pressure on the right paycheck and threatening the biggest, baddest guy there. 

Actually, rumors in the bunker suggested that Bobby already had the InterPol taskforce out to catch you in his back pocket. And you knew, with 100% certainty, that you’d helped out the Brits by acing your latest case up in New York. So, the MI5 kinda owed you… Big time.

This case, however, was definitely you doing good. And you doubted any government agency out there would stand in your way of taking down this particular group.

These greaseballs were digging their filthy paws into pockets they had no business being in. They’d set up a pretty basic charity scam; tricking money out of the pockets of good samaritans only to line their own and fund their criminal activities. All while actually being the monsters behind the problem they were raising money for. 

After creating the new highly addictive drug plaguing the streets of small-town America, they started the charity “combatting” the very addiction they caused. Raking in the cash from both sides.

It probably also doubled as a money laundering scam if you knew their type. And you did… Intimately. Their type had beaten everything you knew about infiltration and retrieval into you for years. 

Frowning at the words printed on the white paper, you pushed away thoughts of a ruined childhood that you’d rather not linger on just as your hacker and the beautiful brain behind most of your high-tech toys gasped across the table. Dragging you out of your own skim reading and rambling mess of a pre-caffeinated brain with her indignant grumble. 

“Kids? Really? Those soulless bastards are actually targeting teens and kids with that drug?”

Your best friend, Charlie, was the first to speak up past Bobby’s briefing. The words laced with disgust and seasoned with a frown as she devoured the information. Your brainiac best friend was, as always, one step ahead of Bobby’s own slower briefing across the speaker and nearly a full page in front of everyone else due to her speed reading.

The girl was a genius. A kinda scared and slightly neurotic genius, but a genius all the same. And you adored her.  

“They’re mafia… I don’t think they’re too worried about the morality of their scam,” Dean, the older of the two Winchester brothers, shot in. 

Though he was considered your ‘muscle’ and the group’s hitter, Dean Winchester was so much more. The trained mercenary, weapons specialist, mechanical engineer, and possibly also the sexiest man alive, was your group’s proverbial jack of all trades. Though he didn’t know you added that final item to his long list of qualifications in your mind. 

You were an expert at infiltration and retrieval, not an idiot. 

But damn it, that man should be illegal. And not only due to the little fact that he topped more than one most wanted list for his days as a mercenary, his qualifications, and his deadly skills. He was also hot as hell, and you might just maybe have the tiniest of crushes on him. 

Alright… So, the 50% of your brain that wasn’t occupied with thinking of your next con, was fully dedicated to thoughts of the sinfully sexy man. Both the innocent daydreams and the very, very dirty thoughts you indulged in behind closed doors. 

Whenever he was around, you were pretty much mentally tongue-tied like some pre-teen in a coming-of-age B-movie. Minus the bad prom plot, awkward jokes and high school stereotype ensemble cast. 

It wasn’t like you hadn’t been in relationships before, even if they’d mainly been covers for some persona you were playing… But, damn it, none of those men came even close to Dean Winchester.

And as luck would have it, he always sat in the seat right next to yours around the war room table. Which often made it damned near impossible for you to focus on the briefings and debriefings which were kinda integral to your safety and pocketing some not-so-hard-earned cash. 

Hence the need for highlighters, in different colors to boot, and a second read through in the safety of your own room. Far from the reach of his absolutely sinfully delicious arms. 

But heck, how were you supposed to focus on entry strategies when your eyes were constantly drawn to his perfectly proportioned and expertly trained body? 

It was impossible and also very, very mean to ask you to even try.

Especially when it came to those strong arms that you’d spent more than one night in your room dreaming about having wrapped around you. Caging you in his embrace and crushing your heated body against his; hard and soft in all the right places. God, what you wouldn’t give to have those big, calloused hands that were busy leafing through the case details work their magic across your body. Shaping you against him with a hand sliding up your spine or making you his good little girl with a hand wrapped around strands of (Y/H/C) hair… Or...

“Also means this is gonna be dangerous Bobby, these guys don’t mess around,” Dean’s follow up snapped you back out of your own dirty mind as you caught the briefest flash of forest green eyes looking your way. 

Your eyes barely caught his before you forced yourself to look back down at the papers in your own hands. Refocusing on a section that Sam had highlighted in yellow, underlined and circled. Yellow was good, it was bright and definitely not penetrating forest green.

Down girl….

“Neither do you son,” Bobby shot back over the speaker system. 

The heartfelt nickname still felt strange to your ears even though you should’ve already gotten used to it. Bobby raised the Winchester brothers; they were practically family. The rest of you had joined the group later, all scouted by either Bobby or the boys during particularly hard cases or through friends of friends. 

You’d joined two years ago. When they’d needed your particular skill set for a case. And, after nearly having ruined another case of theirs and them saving your life during one of yours, you’d kinda owed them one. The repayment had been a favor for one of Bobby’s friends; stealing back a family heirloom belonging to an older woman from a stereotypical dirty businessman. 

It was almost too easy. A simple pressure-based security system, that you’d completely bypassed by scaling the side of the building and descending in from the ceiling. The nice old lady had even baked you cookies when you went to drop the shiny rock off on behalf of the group. 

They were damn good cookies too. Chocolate chip, none of that raisin bullshit.

Sure, you knew Sam had somehow been behind it all. Talking the nice old lady into baking, in some sugary attempt to bribe you into joining the crew. Since your intelligence expert had put his skills to good use and somehow found out about your one weakness: baked goods. But still, it was the nicest theft you’d ever been part of, so you’d decided to stick around. Not because of cookies or owed favors, but simply because you wanted to use your powers for good instead of evil for once. 

“Mobsters usually also have some pretty good security, but nothing my toys shouldn’t be able to crack. So, if you crack their skulls, you can leave their passwords to me,” Charlie mused, smiling over at where Dean was looking ready to prove himself worthy of his foster father’s words of praise. 

She wasn’t lying either. Even without knowing their full layout, you knew her toys could crack any security system. 

You’d brought Charlie in after about a year with the team. Tagging her in when Sammy had been unable to hack a particularly secure government database over in Iceland. With a promise of getting her a specific limited-edition action figure she’d been eyeing if she helped you out. 

The girl was like an artist with a keyboard and a good WiFi connection. She’d been white-hatting it for most of her life. Though you knew she’d hacked a good few government databases, just to prove she could, even before she took the dive and became your literal partner in crime. Past her skills with a keyboard, she was also your first real friend, and you loved her like a sister. 

She wasn’t really cut out for a life of crime though, considering her skittish personality. So, for most of your decade-long friendship, you’d always kept her out of your more illicit schemes. But what Singer & Winchester Agency was doing... That was right up her alley. What with her massive love for anything vigilante. Especially if it came with capes, superhero costumes and secret identities. All the things you’d rather do without. 

In many ways she was your opposite; the angel on your shoulder where you were the daredevil on hers.

She’d readily decided to help you. Always willing to help a friend in need, especially if it came with the added bonus of mint condition collector items. Even if said promise included speaking to people she didn’t know. 

Which was possibly her least favorite thing in the world to do, other than public speaking to crowds larger than three. Especially when said strangers were, like you, some of the most wanted criminals this side (and likely on the other side too to be honest) of the Atlantic.

Once she’d seen the tech the boys had set up in the bunker however, she’d been sold. Enough to tell you to keep your bonus bribe. Especially since Dean was always there, ready to help her build whatever crazy gadget she dreamed up. As always, your nefarious group of con men always knew which goodies to use to lure someone into joining the agency. With you it had been home baked goodies, and with Charlie it was a literal tech lair. 

That… And the figurine had still made its way to her as an early birthday gift just a month later anyway.

And so, your group had gotten a little bigger. All of you being glorified criminals with hearts of gold had of course made for a weird group dynamic. Yet, you somehow made it work. Even when the newest member of your group joined not all that long ago.

“They’re quite the mixed group. Swedish, French and… Russian huh… My Russian might be a bit rusty, but if I brush up on it I should be able to pull it off,” Your latest recruit, Castiel, shot in as he looked at the papers with his usual tell-tale frown of concentration. 

The guy was more or less still a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in a trench coat to you. Though you were pretty sure his name was fake. 

Castiel, or Cas for short, was your grifter. The man with the face of an angel, who could trick basically anyone into trusting him unconditionally. 

So of course, though you liked the fella, you didn’t really trust him. Especially not since he’d dropped in from out of nowhere only a few months earlier. Pulling your collective asses out of a hellish case at the last minute and helping you put a crime lord behind bars.

He’d apparently worked for the big guy before… As in, working for the president in some manner. Secret Service, CIA, FBI, or one of those, if not all of ‘em. But since he quit and now worked in the law’s gray area, he was considered a threat.  At least that’s what he’d told you and what Charlie had managed to confirm through some very secret databases. Even if 80% of the documents were redacted.

He was nice however. And you’d grown close to him over the last few months since he was normally your partner on heists. Or, mainly, you’d taken a shine to watching Charlie get more and more frustrated as he shrugged off her pop culture references, not understanding any of them. 

Apparently, working for the president left little time to Netflix and Chill, since half of your best friend’s references went straight over the grifter’s head. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he’s spent the better part of his life somewhere off-world on a spaceship. 

Actually…. You didn’t know better. Considering his language skills, the man was nearly otherworldly. Easily emulating any character perfectly once he had his role to play.

---

That was your team.

Bobby, the big boss. Sam for intel & planning. Dean for combat and security. Charlie for anything tech and hacking. Castiel if you needed someone’s pants charmed off. And you; the reformed thief turned infiltration specialist, with sticky fingers that could easily retrieve whatever the baddies of the week had stolen.

Even if you might not know everything about each other. They were your friends and your only family in this messed up world that was filled to the brim with mobsters and other monsters. Each one worse than the one before, and every single one of them so much worse than what hid under people’s beds at night. Because your monsters were very much real. And very much out to kill you. 

All in all, you were a ragtag group of master criminals turned modern day Robin Hoods. Stealing from the criminal underbelly of the great US of A, and giving to the… Well, most of your clients were wealthy enough to hire you. And some might even have their own skeletons hiding among the designer shoes and dresses in their closets. But they were all law-abiding citizens who didn’t deserve the hand life dealt them. The rest was just semantics.

Plus, the boys always insisted that a cut of your earnings went to some charity or other. Normally some organization that stood in juxtaposition to the bad guys you’d just taken down. Just to pour an extra ounce of salt into the wounds of the bastards.

“So, if you’re all done adding your little color commentary and reading the briefs, let’s move on,” Bobby’s gruff voice sounded slightly exasperated across the speaker. 

Which honestly wasn’t anything new. 

It was hard enough to get one of you to listen; all of you at the same time was a freaking miracle. Unless you were out on a job that was, then you were a well-oiled con-machine.  

None of you spoke up, simply nodding at the phone, though you knew your boss couldn’t see you. At least you were around 75% certain he couldn’t. Though you wouldn’t have put it past him to equip your hideout with some hidden cameras. Either way, he was sure to interpret the silence for compliance. 

“Good. The plan is to steal back the money, get the drive where they keep all their sales records and personnel files and preferably also financially cripple their organization just enough to stop them from trying anything like this scam again. Cherry on top would be to put the Al Capone wannabe running the whole show behind bars,” He summed up over the slight crackle of the speakerphone. 

All in all it was pretty simple, as far as plans went. You wouldn’t have to break into any top-secret government facilities this time around at least.

“So, what’s the next step, boss?” You asked, grinning at the rest of the group in anticipation of the next heist. Letting the folder drop unceremoniously down onto the big mahogany table, you kept your eyes on the speaker. Though you knew it would annoy Sam to see you treat his little manila baby so poorly.

“First… We bring in the bad guns,” Bobby said, causing Dean to groan. The rest of your party joining in like an exasperated chorus only a split second later. 

That nickname could only mean one man… Sure, you all had your own backgrounds in the not-so-law-abiding, but that guy easily made each and every one of you look like perfect little angels. 

“Crowley… Really?” Sam asked with a tired sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Confirming what you’d rather have him deny just as the groans died down.  

Big bad was coming to play. 

Fan-fucking-tastic… 

---

Next

Charity Heist: @foxyjwls007 @seppys-return-to-madness @stoneyggirl2 @ladysparkles78 @twinkleinadiamondsky @tmb510 

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @starsandmidnightblue @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun  @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28 @siospins2 @iprobablyshipit91 @mrsjenniferwinchester @leigh70

Forever tags will be added as reblog. Crossed through names can not be tagged.

[fratboykate]

No! Papi! Don’t look at the buzz cut, look at me *dangles pocket watch in a hypnotizing motion* repeat after me: you neeeed to give us bgau 5yrs after snippet. Flo’s hair is still attached to her head. Everything will be fine

But also Netflix needs to get their shit in gear. Good luck bending them to your will

Y'all are so ridiculous lmao. Here's 2.5k words that are probably equal parts angst and domesticity. This is five years post divorce.

///

Yelena sits at a high-end restaurant, sharing her table with a captivating black woman whose radiant smile and crown of ebony curls exude a natural beauty. Their laughter fills the air, a reflection of the deep intimacy and ease that comes with dating for over a year.

With her effortless charm and resilience, Monica Rambeau instantly captured Yelena's heart. The subtle lines on her face tell a story of strength forged through life's trials. What binds these two together goes beyond words. Yelena and Monica share a profound understanding of each other's pain and trauma, an unspoken connection that weaves their lives together. They both carry the weight of loss, have walked the path of military service, and possess a disciplined nature. Yelena's enigmatic allure and sharp intellect fits in perfect harmony with Monica's indomitable spirit and boundless compassion for others. Yelena, often guarded, finds solace in Monica's unwavering support, while Monica draws strength from Yelena's fierce loyalty. They innately understand each other's pain and trauma, creating an unspoken bond that allows them to build a fulfilling life. Together, they’ve envisioned years overflowing with love and commitment. Yelena and Monica have decided to embrace the long haul, fully invested in creating a future, and ready to weather any storm that comes their way.

Yelena takes a delicate sip of her vodka sour, the liquid tang dancing on her tongue, and she can't help but burst into laughter at the absurdity that came out of her partner’s mouth.

"Nic, you did not say that to a four-star general. I don't believe you."

"He was so stunned he didn't even know how to respond."

"And you still walked away with the case assignment?"

"Absolutely. Once he realized I had him cornered, he had no choice but to give in."

Their laughter fills the air, their connection crackling with energy and warmth. But the moment is interrupted when Yelena's phone buzzes in her pocket, pulling her attention away. She retrieves it, glancing at the urgent text message that flashes across the screen: "Emergency at the Bishop property."

"Sorry," Yelena apologizes, her focus shifting entirely to her phone as she begins to type a response.

“Everything okay?” her girlfriend asks, concern etching her features.

A reply message pops up, and Yelena's skin drains of color. Swiftly, she rises from her seat, retrieves her wallet, and drops a few hundred in cash on the table.

"One of Kate's crazies broke into the house while she was there.”

"Oh my god! Is she okay?"

"I don't know. I need to go handle this."

"Yeah. Yeah, of course," Monica replies, her worry evident.

Leaning in, Yelena gently presses her lips against her girlfriend's, a tender farewell.

"I'll be home as soon as I can."

Monica cups Yelena’s face with her hand and delicately caresses her cheek with her thumb.  

"Please be safe."

"Always."

Yelena steals one final kiss before rushing to the door. 

---

The flashing red and blue lights of patrol cars cast an eerie glow, reflecting off the sleek facade of the mansion. They pulse with a sense of urgency as a few dozen members of Yelena's security team and police remain scattered around the premises. Yelena arrives quickly enough that they haven't even driven the intruder away yet. Her eyes lock onto the disheveled figure in the back of the patrol car, his face marked with bruises and tears mixing with snot as they stream down his cheeks.

Yelena's steps boom against the driveway's paving bricks with a determined cadence, underscoring the fury simmering within her. She marches purposefully towards the spot where Clint Barton, the man responsible for overseeing the night shifts, engages in conversation with another guard. The sheer intensity radiating from Yelena is palpable, causing the other bodyguard to grimace, excuse himself, and hastily retreat from the impending storm.

"What the hell happened?" Yelena demands, her voice tight with anger.

"I'm not sure. It looks like the guy broke in through the back, near the guest house.”

"What do you mean you're not sure? Check the damn footage."

"Ma'am, that camera has been down for over a week. Records say we put in the repair request, but the techs haven’t come yet.”

An irate growl builds in Yelena's throat.

"So we have a blind spot, and instead of assigning someone to cover it until it's fixed, you simply left it unattended?"

"No, ma'am. Kaplan has been back there for days, but he went on his lunch break."

"And no one replaced him?"

"We're down two men today, so we didn't have the bodies. There's a flu going around. Richards and Lang called out sick."

“Then you call the office and you have them pull from somewhere else! We have guys on call for this specific reason. You don't leave this property or team short. EVER. Am I clear?"

"Yes, ma'am. I did try to..."

Yelena's focus is abruptly shattered as another body collides into hers with unyielding force. Even before she lays eyes on Kate, she catches a whiff of that familiar perfume, stirring unwanted nostalgia and longing inside her. It's been far too long since they've been this close, yet the effect remains undeniable.

Kate clings to Yelena with a desperate grip, seeking comfort and security in her arms. The blonde adjusts her position within Kate’s arms, turning to face the younger woman directly. Their eyes lock. The instant blue and green meet, it’s as if a dam has burst and a torrent of sobs spills from Kate's trembling form, the weight of her emotions breaking through the surface.

"Hey…Hey…You okay?" Yelena's voice is tinged with concern, her gaze searching for answers.

“I heard your voice. Inside. I heard it…You came.” Kate manages to utter between tears, her voice filled with relief and vulnerability.

“Of course I came. Of course.” Kate's grip tightens around Yelena. Yelena responds by enveloping the brunette in her arms, holding her closer with tender strength. "Is Eli on his way?"

Kate's head shakes against Yelena's chest, tears staining the fabric of her shirt.

"He's in Edinburgh. He's on set, shooting the sequel to his stupid alien movie until June.”

Yelena lets out a sigh.

"I'm calling in more bodies, at least until he comes back. You'll be safe."

Kate looks up at Yelena.

"Can you stay?" Kate asks, her voice soft and small. “Please."

Yelena hesitates for a moment while surveying Kate’s distressed face. With a resolute nod, Yelena reaches out and tenderly takes Kate's hand in her own, their fingers involuntarily intertwining as if guided by an invisible force. Neither of them notices the subtle gesture, too consumed by the moment's graveness and the need to protect and be protected.

With their hands entwined, they move forward, stepping across the entryway and into the house's safety.

---

Yelena steps inside the house, her first time crossing its threshold in five long years. Memories of joy, pleasure, and heartache rush back. It looks different now, the decor changed, but familiar elements still evoke a bittersweet sense of nostalgia. The space is both foreign and strangely familiar, leaving Yelena with conflicting emotions. She's somehow trapped in a paradox. She feels a sense of displacement, like a visitor in her own past, yet there’s also an undeniable feeling that she somehow belongs here, even after all this time.

As Kate settles on the couch, her body curled up protectively, Yelena gracefully lowers herself to a squat, positioning herself at eye level with the younger woman. Their eyes meet, and Yelena's concern deepens.

"Are you okay?"

"I turned around and he was...there."

Kate’s voice trembles as she responds. Yelena shakes her head almost imperceptibly, regret and guilt shadowing her expression.

"Kate, I'm so sorry. This should've never happened. It's my fault. I haven't been checking in on your team enough. I dropped the ball. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Kate's response is immediate, her voice filled with conviction as she counters Yelena's self-blame.

"It is. I take full responsibility, and if you decide to find other security options, I completely understand."

A soft sigh escapes Kate's lips, and she reaches out to gently touch Yelena's arm.

"I'm not sure how many times you're going to make me say this, but I’ll say it again…you're the only person I trust with this.” Kate’s words carry a reassuring sincerity that resonates deeply with Yelena.

"A guy just broke into your house under my watch."

"Not yours. Not specifically."

"You know what I mean."

Yelena's attention drifts towards the kitchen, her eyes catching the telltale signs of a panicked struggle. The scene sends a surge of rage coursing through her veins. She clenches her fists, her jaw tightening as she imagines the terrifying encounter that took place in this very spot.

The remnants of a halfway-finished meal sit abandoned on the counter, a stark reminder of the interrupted peace and normalcy that once filled the room. The scattered utensils and overturned chairs bear witness to the chaotic confrontation between Kate and the intruder. Yelena's mind races, trying to piece together the sequence of events that unfolded, her protective instincts sharpening.

"Were you making dinner?” Kate nods. "I'll make you something."

"It's fine. I'm not hungry anymore."

Yelena refuses to accept Kate's dismissal.

"Something small. Tell me what you want. I’ll make it for you."

The faintest of smiles tugs at the corner of Kate's lips, but her refusal remains steadfast.

“Yel, I’m really not hungry."

They both fail to register the intimacy of the nickname Kate used. Yelena looks at Kate with concern, her brow furrowing slightly and leans closer.

"That chicken strawberry salad you like?” Yelena suggests, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “You always have stuff around to make that."

A small chuckle escapes Kate's lips offering momentary respite from the tension that hangs in the air.

"That's what I was making."

Yelena's smirk widens into a playful grin as their eyes lock in a lingering stare.

"You're nothing if not a creature of habit, Kate Bishop. I have to make a call first and then I'll get on it. Okay?"

With a silent nod, Kate accepts Yelena's offer. Yelena rises, her movements purposeful, and takes a step back, turning towards the living room and kitchen meeting point in the open floor plan. She retrieves her phone from her pocket, her fingers moving swiftly to dial a familiar number. Her voice remains steady and focused as she brings the phone to her ear, masking the underlying emotions.

"Hey...yeah. Yeah. Things are fine...mostly. Yeah...No. I'm probably not coming home tonight. I have to...I have to stay...I'm sorry. There's a lot to deal with over here. I'll make it up to you...I know. I love you too. Bye."

When Yelena turns, Kate's energy feels different, almost palpably so. The call catches her off guard and her previously softened demeanor shifts. At that moment, her body tenses up, and her expression becomes guarded. The realization that Yelena has a partner, someone she didn't even know existed, hits Kate like a punch to the gut. It leaves her feeling unsettled, a mixture of surprise, confusion, and maybe even a hint of betrayal.

"I didn't know you were with someone. I don't want to make it awkward or get you in trouble or...I don't know."

Yelena thought she had walked away far enough for Kate not to overhear her, but her voice must have carried more than she anticipated. Yelena's lips subtly curl upwards as her eyes meet Kate’s.

"You're not."

"You can go. I don't want to keep you from...anything."

Yelena shakes her head as she removes her blazer. In a familiar motion, she neatly drapes it over the back of a nearby breakfast stool, a ritual ingrained in their shared history. It's a small, seemingly insignificant moment, yet it carries a weight of familiarity and comfort between them. The sight evokes memories of countless evenings spent together around that same kitchen island, engaged in deep conversations that stretched late into the night. During those quiet moments, their connection blossomed as they shared their dreams, fears, and secrets with one another. The kitchen became a sanctuary, a space where they could be completely forthcoming and vulnerable, finding serenity in each other's presence. The years now seem to fade away, transporting them back to a time when their lives seamlessly merged into one. Despite the circumstances and the distance that has grown between them, it’s evident that old habits die hard for these two.

"She's used to it. You're not the only one of my clients who has a crisis every so often."

"Right."

"And I think I should also say ‘congratulations’." Yelena points at the giant engagement ring on Kate's hand. "That's an impressive rock.”

"I designed it."

"Wouldn't expect anything else."

Kate's gaze drifts downward, fixated on her thighs. After a moment of silence, she finally speaks.

"I guess we both found our people."

It's easier to say this than to admit the weight of the secret that Kate carries. Merely a week ago, Kate called off her engagement with Eli before he left to shoot his latest film project. The ring on her finger remains, a constant reminder of another failed relationship. It’s a symbol of a shattered commitment she's not yet ready to confront. It's easier to keep it on, avoiding the questions and judgment that would follow its removal.

"I guess we did...I'll make you some food."

Kate nods in gratitude, silently thanking Yelena for the familiar tradition of the blonde making food for the younger woman in moments of turmoil. As Yelena skillfully maneuvers around the kitchen, Kate watches her with a hint of admiration. The clatter of utensils, the sizzle of ingredients, and the rhythmic sounds of Yelena’s cooking fill the air, creating a soothing soundtrack that drowns out the worries of the world. This cocoon of domesticity temporarily shields them from the chaos and uncertainty that looms just beyond the door.

[shortfeather]

the way the water echoes

did a little sprint based on that neverend mod idea, centered on cleo courtesy of @tripping-sideways. posting this mostly unedited; i think tumblr-only writing is gonna be more casual for me than AO3.

warnings: isolation, sort of imprisonment, liminal spaces, drowning, minecraft death mechanics including deliberately forcing a respawn

It doesn’t really hit her until she’s staring at the pit that leads to a second level, communicator hanging silent at her waist, how much trouble she’s in.

Cleo had been searching for an End portal a little closer to their base. Even with the Nether shrinking the distance eightfold, the main portal was ridiculously far from their home, and considering the amount of endstone she was going to be using this season it made sense to find one nearby. The stronghold had been half flooded, and they’d come close to death against the Drowned in the halls before finally making it to the portal room.

The lava was warm against their undead skin, even as the portal frame exuded a voidlike chill. To their delight, the frame had been mostly filled, just two eyes short. Cleo had popped them in, set a bed down for spawn, double-checked their gear, and hopped on through. Had bent their knees slightly, the way every new player is taught, so the jolt of the hard obsidian landing doesn’t do any damage.

Instead, she’d fallen far and landed in a deep pool of water, surrounded by white walls and with a beautiful blue sky shining down from above her. The exact opposite of what they expected.

Really, this whole dimension is about as different from the End as it gets. The End is all disconnected islands, here is a never-ending series of halls and rooms. The End is dark and cold, here is bright and pleasantly warm, enough for the cool water that covers the floor to feel like a comfort. The End is dead, and here there are bushes of something her inventory calls liminalgae, and occasionally, groups creatures similar to axolotls called poolfish. She can even pick them up, attracting them with the liminalgae like a cow to wheat. They're rather cute. The End is mostly void, here there is a beautiful flat ocean beyond the walls that an invisible barrier prevents her from reaching.

The End is a place Cleo knows how to leave, and here she does not.

She’s tried. The first thing she did upon scrambling out of the water was message X, only for her communicator to show a chat validation error. Their messages can’t go through, though waiting about ten minutes shows that they can still see the messages everyone else is sending. That’s comforting, to a degree; if they wait long enough, someone will realize something is wrong, and Xisuma can do his admin-y things and get them out of here. She’d told Joe what she was doing right before she found this dimension; maybe he’ll look into it even before someone thinks to call X in.

While she’d waited for other messages to come in, she’d taken a look around the room. Everything was made out of some variant of an unfamiliar block, similar in look to an iron block, but with a grid pattern and a feel like glazed terracotta. The entrance was decorated beautifully with bushes of the liminalgae stuff, which broke easily beneath her fist and stacked nicely in her inventory.

Which was also how she discovered her inventory was empty. 

Around then, her communicator had displayed a message from Mumbo, something about server lag. Cleo ignored it for a moment, because their inventory was empty, even their armor slots and offhand—they’d been fully prepared to go End mining, going so far as to stick a carved pumpkin on their head. It’s all gone.

Then they process that their communicator buzzed, and the fact that it’s not completely broken isn’t nearly as relieving as it could have been. They still can’t send messages out, but they can see what their friends are coordinating, and be prepared for whatever rescue entails.

Whenever rescue comes.

It doesn’t take long to get bored, which is why Cleo starts exploring, despite the fact that their F3 screen only says no, lmao. X is going to get an earful for including whatever mod this is when she gets back—

For now, they wander. They find some bizarre architecture choices, and rooms full of poolfish and liminalgae both. They discover, with a deep sense of dread, that the beautiful view of the flat ocean outside is a mirage; exploration reveals a set of windows that theoretically should point directly into another hallway, but instead show that bright blue sky. Whatever’s out there… 

Well, she’ll never know what’s out there, because the block refuses to break beneath her fist, no matter how long she punches at it. Same with the walls.

For untold days, she wanders. Without her F3 screen, there’s no way to be accurate about the time she’s spent here, but it feels like a week and a half. There’d been a jolt of hope when Joe asked if someone had seen them recently—but Tango had reminded him that they were End mining, probably deep in the grind by now. It’s been a week and a half, approximately, of ankle-deep water in hallways, and deeper water in grand, open rooms, and nothing to eat but liminalgae and nothing to do but walk around and breed poolfish. They’ve been staying close to the spawn room, unwilling to lose their one known location in this unknown dimension.

Their communicator buzzes more as time passes: Doc pranking Gem, Gem killing him in revenge. Xisuma reminding everyone to avoid the world border chunks until the next update. Grian pretending to be Iskall’s conscience, teaching him how to use boats. She mutes the communicator. It hurts to see everyone this way, while she’s stuck here.

She still checks it; she's not stupid. She just… can’t keep watching the texts fly by without her.

And then she finds the pit.

It’s a room unlike any other she’s seen so far. It leads down, deeper than even the deepest pool of water she’s encountered, and it’s filled with rows of stacked arches, bridging the gap. She crouches onto one and peers down. It’s darker, but not pitch black, and there’s a pool of water at the bottom, the same shape and size as the one they originally fell into.

In her inventory, her collection of favorite poolfish squirm. Cleo’s guts match the motion, because this is obviously where the dimension intends them to go. The pit yawns before her like a beckoning, like a challenge. But there’s no blocks here, no drops from poolfish or craftables with liminalgae. If Cleo jumps down, she has no way back up.

No way save dying, drowning or starving wherever she finds herself. Because that was the other thing she’d tried, when her messages refused to send and her inventory yielded nothing. Cleo had dove down to the bottom of the spawn room pool, and pushed all the air out of their lungs, and breathed in that cool water.

It worked everywhere else. It wasn’t pleasant, but it worked, and they were a grown-up who could work with something that wasn’t pleasant.

They’d respawned in free-fall and crashed into the very pool they’d just died in.

That had been a very brutal realization: they were stuck here. And yet it feels like that realization pales in comparison to the pit before her, the pit that calls to her so tauntingly with its insinuations. That there is more to this place than white walls and fake ocean and sunlight. That there is escape, if she’s willing to fight for it. Escape that may come quicker than her friends.

Cleo has always been a fighter. But they’re smart, too. Before committing either way, they check their communicator.

Unread messages:

<GoodTimeWithScar> DONT HOTGYU ME

<GoodTimeWithScar was shot by Grian>

<Grian> get gud 

<iJevin> seriously, is cleo just living in the end at this point?

<StressMonster101> Im sure theyll be back soon, luv

Without timestamps, it’s impossible to tell how recently Jev and Stress sent their messages, but they make Cleo waver. The safest option is to wait near the spawn room, where X or Joe will eventually spawn in and help her escape with their admin-y ways. With the poolfish and liminalgae, she can survive as long as necessary, although the liminalgae doesn’t seem to regrow. Still—up here, where she understands the terrain, is safest.

<iJevin> stress its been a MONTH

<iJevin> even for a megabase grind thats ridiculous

Cleo’s stomach falls out from under them.

A month?

They’ve been stuck in this endless pseudo-paradise for a month, and people are only just now worrying—

No. No, fuck this, fuck everyone except Joe who asked about them way back towards the start, except he hasn’t said anything since so actually fuck him, too. And fuck X for chatting about updates like everything’s normal, and Ren for saying innuendoes and double entendres like nothing’s wrong, and Grian and Scar for being Grian and Scar when she’s stuck in here—

Fuck Jevin especially, for saying that where they could see, where they could realize no one is coming for them.

Distantly, Cleo realizes that this is a bit much, that people do regularly go off and grind resources for absurd lengths of time, but that doesn’t stop her from beating back sobs by fostering the rage in her chest. Distantly, she realizes that this is all uncomfortably close to a breakdown, and they don’t get those. They don’t do those; they’re a fighter, someone whose first answer is violence and barbed words and arson. 

So. Fuck their friends. Fuck them all. Cleo will rescue herself. 

They double-check their poolfish and liminalgae count—enough to last another goddamn month, if need be—and jump into the dark waters far, far below.

[goth-automaton]

crashes through ceiling excuse me i'm late Lemme bring up one of Twitter Exclusive OCs, what about 5, 12, 19 from the 'GET TO KNOW THE OC ASKS' and 4 and 14 from 'some OC questions…' for… ✨Svetlana✨!

Haha, I knew you'll choose a "Metal Gear Chaos: RE//connection" character, just wasn't sure, if Emma or Svetlana. ^^ I'll be happy to answer questions about Emma too, of course! 💜

But yes, Svetlana Ivanovna Raikova, our dearest Yakutian ball of unresolved traumas (whom I still haven't properly introduced even on Twitter, 'cause I'm a baby and scared of drawing cyborgs, lol). 💜

GET TO KNOW THE OC ASKS

5. Does your OC have a signature weapon and/or attack? How long did they train to master it?

I wouldn't call it "signature", but Svetlana's usual weapons are sniper riffles and army combat knives. She's also good in fistfights – being a ridiculously strong cyborg definitely helps with it.

She started learning to fight shortly after her initial cyborgisation, at the age of 18, and is still fighting while pushing 60 (and later), so, yeah, she had decades to master fighting.

12. Is your OC cynical or optimistic? Who or what shaped their outlook on life?

Hooooo boiiiiiiiii. Svetlana is cynical as hell. Or at least has been for most of her life – being raised by a mother, who was nearly catatonic due to severe trauma and depression, and later watching said mother slowly die from lung infection, when you're only 5, will do that to you. For almost her whole life Svetlana was obsessed with getting revenge on Big Boss, whom she blames (rightfully, btw) for death of her mother. And then she was made aware, that this revenge actually made no fucking sense. And had a little mental breakdown/existential crisis because of it. Poor girl, her whole world shattered.

HOWEVER. After Emma talked her into joining Philanthropy, Svetlana actually chilled out a little and, while she still is more on the cynical side, her world view definitely isn't as negative, as it used to be. She even made friends! She! Hard to believe, isn't it???

19. Has your OC ever had an experience with the paranormal or the divine? What happened? Was it a one time encounter or is it a normal part of their life? Did they find it terrifying or thrilling?

Okay, so this question is... Hard. To me, as an author. Because MGC doesn't have, like, fully set storyline, I'm stil not sure about paranormal things in it... I mean, ghosts and stuff definitely exist in this universe, but... Gaaah, that would require a shitload of explanation!

But... Uuuh... Does meeting a guy, whose soul and consciousness have been forcefully dragged out of the afterlife and implanted into a body of a lobotomized person, count as paranormal? ^^"

some original character (OC) questions

4. What are your character's quirks or eccentricities that make them stand out from others?

She's a technically immortal Russian cyborg born in 1971, who stopped ageing in her thirties, so. XD But more serious: she doesn't show much emotions, partially because of being kinda tired after all these years and partially, 'cause her she has an emotional maturity of a child – again, trauma will do that to you. And, due to being rather avoidant of people for most of her life, Svetlana still sometimes feels a bit out of place, when it comes to interpersonal relationships. But she's getting better!

Also, she's extremely sentimental and often pays homage to her family. She has a whole box of mementos after her mother and (adopted) grandma and has painted traditional Russian ornamental patterns on her battle armour to honour the latter – granny Anna lived from handcraft, she was making matryoshkas, and she taught young Svetlana how to paint them.

14. What is your character's preferred method of self-expression? Do they have any artistic talents or creative outlets?

Lol, I've accidentally already answered that above. XD But yeah, Svetlana is really skilled in painting traditional Russian patterns. ^^

Thank you! 💜

[bellalunadreams]

Okay I have an idea, here me out

ROTTMNT Haunted House AU

April is finally moving out on her own and she found a house for a ridiculously low price! Yeah, sure it’s a fixer upper but what house on the market today isn’t? At least she can actually survive college tuition here.

Bonus it’s fully furnished! You know how expensive furniture is? This is an absolute win.

April walks in the house and starts what will inevitably be a whole lot of cleaning. She dawns her armor against dust and dirt (and lets be real, mold, it’s a really old building) and makes her way through the house.

There are some things that reoccur throughout the house in the cracks and corners, random bits of metal and screws, yarn clippings, some paint splatter, and random slash marks or dents in some of the walls, some have more than others but they are pretty consistent.

What is most prevalent is the Asian decor and theme of the house, the screen doors and decorations, even down to the support structure carvings.

As April works her way further into the house she finds little things she didn’t notice during her walk through with the realtor, one room had teddy bears and some half finished knitting projects in a basket, the next with half finished paintings stashed away and art supplies, another with a metal scraps and small machines on high shelves, and the last had some posters on the walls- well whatever posters weren’t fully rotted or torn down anyway. She could almost make out some faces and letters, whatever was on these posters they definitely felt like they belonged to some teenage boy.

Not to mention an entire room that looked like a hospital??? How old is this medical equipment?

She continued through the rooms cleaning what she could and throwing away anything that couldn’t be saved from mildew or rot.

As she traveled through the house she couldn’t help noticing the overwhelming sense of being watched. April felt this when she was first looking at the house but now it’s even worse.

Especially when she was in the bedrooms.

What happened here? It feels so well lived in, why would they abandon their home and all their things? Furniture I get… but teddy bears? Posters? Models and inventions? Even paints feel like they would have some sentimental value! Who were these people and what happened to them to make them leave everything behind?

An alarm went off

“Shit!” April took out her phone the bright screen in the dark hallway practically blinded her “shit” she snoozed the alarm and raced back to the entry way to the house grabbing her bag and practically ripping off her cleaning gear, sure she would get to class a little dirty but at least she’ll only be a little late. She’d deal with the rest of the house after class.

As April raced out the door practically forgetting to close it behind her a see through purple figure locked it.

“Hey! Don’t do that, she forgot her key on the side table” the figure turned around with an unimpressed quirk of a drawn on eyebrow and stared down the smaller orange figure further up the hall

“Well then maybe she shouldn’t have forgotten her keys-“ he was cut off by a weight thrown around his shoulder “yeah! Or to forget to lock the door, I don’t want some rando to come in off the street and touching my stuff!”

The purple figure pushed the offending arm off his shoulder “sigh, Nardo some ‘rando’ did walk in off the street and touch your stuff, she touched all of our stuff”

The smaller orange figure walked up to the purple and blue one in front of the door “well technically she isn’t ‘some rando’ she did buy the house” there was a huff “just because she bought the house doesn’t mean we know her Michael” the offending blue arm was slung back over his shoulder “yeah Miguel she may own the house but she doesn’t own my soul” the blue figure- ‘Nardo’ proclaimed with a dramatic expression and a hand on his plastron.

“Hey, why are you guys bickering in front of the door?” A large red figure loomed in a door way towering over the other three yet they looked up at him unaffected by his stature.

“Raph! Donnie locked the owner lady out! She left her key on the table!” An orange see through hand gestures over to a small key ring with three keys laying forgotten on the small table next to the door

The large red figure-‘Raph’ sighed “Donnie what did we talk about?” The purple figure-‘Donnie’ rolled his eyes “dramatic sigh- ‘don’t mess with the living’” red translucent arms crossed “and?” “And ‘don’t terrorize the new owner’ even though she touched all my stuff”

Raph gave a nod with a smile not seeming to have heard tail end of what was said under nonexistent breath

“Alright make sure to unlock the door for the owner lady when she gets back-“ “ugh” “-and let’s get started on helping putting away the cleaning stuff she left out” a chorus of groans and complaints rung out “chop! chop! We don’t know when she’ll be back!”

The four transparent figures got to work grabbing what they could to clean up unbeknownst to them that there was a pair of eyes watching through the window on the sides of the door listening to their entire conversation.

“Shit”