#tech said they could open it and double check things. did not open it. said bc it had passed the exit test it wasnt related

[whatislifebesidesrehearsal]

Actor: Has something ever gone missing and you can’t find it?

Lead Actor: Yeah, it’s called losing something.

[lizard-queen-izzy]

I Hate Everything About You

Summary: What if Jon and Tim's fight at the end of MAG 65 had gone a little differently? [Most of the dialogue is from the transcripts so obviously full credit to Jonny for those lines.] Word count: 1952 Author's note: It's finally here! Sorry to keep you all waiting, but it's here now! I would apologize in advance but, I'd have to feel remorse to apologize so.

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

The tape recorder clicked back to life. 

“Supplemental. It looks like my posting on a few of the more tech-savvy boards appealing for statements has worked. While the incident itself seems ultimately inconsequential, I was able to convince Tessa to have a look at Gertrude’s laptop, claiming to have locked myself out,” Jon turned to the now glowing screen of the laptop. “I don’t know what she did - something about “command lines’’ and “administrative privileges” - But I now. Have. Access.” he let out a slow, shaky breath. “I’m almost afraid-” he froze at the sound of the door creaking open. Tim stepped through the door.

“Hey, where did you put the-” He stopped at the sight of Jon hunched over the recorder. “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you while you were being suspicious-”

“It’s fine.” Jon cut him short before he could drag this nonsense out again.

“No, no, I’ll - catch you when you’re not scheming.” He threw his hands up and backed out the door, turning and reaching to pull it shut behind him. Jon knew he should leave it at that. But he couldn’t help the words that spilled from his mouth, unfortunately, loud enough for Tim to hear.

“No need to take that tone-” Tim whipped around faster than Jon thought possible.

“What?” There was a venom in Tim’s voice, the look of disbelief on his face made something twist in Jon’s stomach. He straightened in his seat, attempting to smooth things back down to their normal levels of discomfort. “Nothing. I’ll see you later -”

“No.” Tim stepped back into the room, the door closing silently behind him. He turned the chair in front of Jon’s desk around, sitting on it. “What did you say?” He was leaning over the top of the back of the chair, still managing to tower over Jon even seated and at a distance. Jon once again readjusted in his seat, hoping he didn’t look as uncomfortable as he felt.

“I said there’s no need for the attitude, I know things have been difficult but -” Tim cut him off, again.

“Oh, they have, have they? ‘Things have been difficult?’ You’ve spent a month staring at that footage -” he leaned even closer, practically laying on the desk, “double-checking every moment, timing every tea break, looking at me like I somehow staged it - but no! You’re right: ‘Things have been difficult.’” His face was twisted in anger, his breathing was getting shallower. 

“It just seems a little too convenient!” Jon could feel himself getting worked up, could feel his composure slipping. “Excuse me!?” Tim sounded like he’d been shot. His mouth hung slightly agape, and Jon couldn’t place the look in his eyes.

“I mean, the CCTV is so corrupted that the police can’t just use it immediately, and then they happen to finish restoring it when I start really digging into the murder!? And if it was an option, why not clean it up when she first disappeared!?” He could hear himself getting louder, but he didn’t care. Tim wanted to talk, they were talking now. “And don’t get me started on the lack of cameras in the Archives - I know, I know Elias’s whole spiel about ‘signal degradation’ and ‘installation issues,’ but I don’t buy it. I mean, he got the CO2 system put in easily enough-”

“Shut. Up.” TIm’s voice cut through Jon, silencing him. He looked up to see Tim staring at the desk, teeth and fists both clenched, tight. 

“What-”

“Shut up. Just stop talking. I’m sick of this. I’m sick of you! We didn’t kill Gertrude, and no one wants to kill you, you pompous idiot!” 

“Now, listen here-” Tims hand slammed into the desk.

“No. No. You listen, for once. I was fine in research. Happy. Then you asked me to be transferred here and suddenly it’s all monsters and killers and secret passages, oh my!” He was standing now, making his way around to Jon’s side of the desk. Jon turned in his seat to face him, not yet daring to stand. “And the worst thing - the actual worst thing - is that no one here has my back. With any of it! Elias doesn’t care, Martin just wants a tea party, and Sasha - ugh - and you! - You’re treating me like I’m somehow to blame for it all, like I didn’t suffer the worst right alongside you!” His breathing was ragged now, and Jon stood to meet him. “Well, excuse me if my experiences have made me-” but Tim cut him off again, this time punctuated by shoving him backwards into the wall.

“Your experiences? Fuck you, I got eaten by worms because of you!” His fist was balled in the front of Jon’s shirt, holding him in place against the wall. Jon squirmed in his grasp, turning his head as far up as he could to try and meet Tim’s eyes. Tim’s gaze was hard and set on Jon and nothing else. If looks could kill, well, Jon was glad they couldn’t. 

“Well, what do you want? You want sympathy?” He spat the last word out, and something flashed in Tim’s eyes. His grip on Jon’s shirt tightened and he pushed him further into the wall.

“You know what, yeah! Little bit of basic sympathy would have been nice!” 

“Jane Prentiss was not my fault, I did not bring her to the Archives-”

“Oh, but you went off the deep end afterwards, didn’t you!? Everything went to hell-” He was gesturing wildly at the air with the arm not currently holding Jon in place. “-and when you actually needed to be in charge, you just hid down here and played with your tape recorder.”

“Well, what would you have me do!?”

Tim’s other arm hit the wall, caging Jon in.

“Anything! Anything that wasn't turning into a paranoid lunatic would have been fine! Anything that showed you could actually do your job!” His face was close now, and Jon could feel his breath on his cheeks. He took in a shaky breath. “Well,” he let out a strained laugh, “Elias clearly thinks-”

“Elias should’ve fired you weeks ago!”

“What!?”

“After everything you’ve pulled, you should be gone. But no! Instead, we all get to talk about how you’re feeling, because we’re worried about our stalker boss. I, I can’t do this anymore!” Tim was shaking now, and it was sending shockwaves through Jon. Jon didn’t know what to say to help, because nothing would fix this. Whatever he and Tim had had before Jane Prentiss, before the Archives? It was gone. Dead and buried and never coming back no matter how much he dug. He could stand there searching for words forever and none of them would undo the damage. So instead, he said all he could think to, knowing it would be the final nail in the coffin. “Then quit.” He heard his voice crack and prayed Tim didn’t, “If you hate it so much, leave your post in the Archives. Permanently.”

“Are you firing me?” The shock in Tim’s voice was like a twist of the knife Jon was trying to desperately pretend wasn’t driving its way through his heart. That same, unidentifiable look passed in his eyes, and it made Jon hesitate for a moment before proceeding.

“...I’m offering you a chance to quit. No notice period, I’ll even make sure you get the rest of the month’s paycheck. Just say the words.” The silence hung between them like a challenge. Neither of them moved, Jon could barely feel Tim’s breath on his face, almost like he was afraid breathing would be response enough. Tim slumped forward, forehead practically resting on Jon’s.

“I want to…” It came out more like a release of breath than words.

“So do it.” Jon’s voice dropped to match.

“I…Can’t.” His voice cracked, and Jon saw tears beginning to fall from his eyes.

“Why not?” 

“I, I can’t! I don’t know - why can’t I quit!?”

“I-I don’t know. But I don’t think I can fire you either…”

“What?”

“It’s this place.”

“...I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. I’m trying to figure it out I-I’ve got the shape of it but…” He started to reach for him, to offer him some kind of comfort, but his hand froze halfway to Tim’s arm. It hung in the air along with all their unspoken words. “I’m sorry, Tim. Truly I am. But I cannot and will not trust you. This place isn’t right - you see that now. I don’t know how or why, but there is something very wrong with the Archives. And I don’t know who here is a victim of it - and who is an agent.” The words filled the ever closing space between them, and they stung like salt in an open wound. Tim took in a shaky breath. “So… What do we do?”

“For now…? I suppose we just… do our jobs.”

“I don’t want to.”

“No.” Jon let the moment hang in the air. Let it be for a moment, acceptance washing over him. This was it, the end. Tim made no attempt to move, still gripping Jon’s shirt like a life-line, his other arm firmly planted against the wall, both keeping Jon from moving an inch. Jon’s own arm still hung in the air beside them, half extended to touch the arm holding his shirt. Tim’s grip tightened on Jon’s shirt, which he didn’t think possible, and his face twisted like he was deep in thought. “Tim, can you please let go?” His voice was smaller than he was proud of, but he was worried to speak any louder would make Tim do something rash. His eyes were unfocused, still looking down at Jon, but more vaguely than trained on him like prey. He tried again, in case he hadn’t heard him. “Tim.”

“No.”

“Please..”

“SHUT. UP!” His voice boomed with the sudden raise in volume, and before Jon even knew what was happening, his lips were crashing into his own. It was nothing like he’d imagined kissing Tim would be like, though he knew he didn’t deserve the soft, careful kisses he had imagined. He knew he didn’t even deserve this one. He let himself be manhandled, Tim’s hand moving off the wall to hold his jaw firmly in place while he kissed him. Jon let his hand finally fall against Tim’s chest. Flat at first, then eventually allowing himself to also clutch Tim’s shirt, pulling him further into him. He didn’t know how long he had, but he was going to relish in it as long as he could. Tim’s weight shifted almost like he’d stepped closer, god could they get any closer, and then all at once he was gone. He pulled back, putting some distance between them, and stared at Jon.   His face was flushed, his lips bright pink and still wet from the kiss. And that look in his eyes was back though Jon still couldn’t quite place it. Jon took in a breath, his whole body shaking from the effort, he knew he must look pathetic. Neither of them said anything, the silence between them back, but so different now. Tim shuffled further away from Jon, back towards the door.

“...I. um, suppose I’ll see you later.”

“I suppose so.” The door creaked loudly behind Tim as he shut it. Jon fell back down into his chair, slumped with defeat. So they weren’t going to talk about it, great. What was one more thing they wouldn’t talk about? Jon thought of getting up and following Tim, but he knew Tim wouldn’t want that. His eyes fell to the tape recorder, wheels still spinning. 

“End supplemental.” The tape recorder clicked off. ------------------------------

[headphones-ct-09978]

Sopapillas. 

Miguel O’Hara X Reader one-shot

Summary: You and Miguel share a small moment.

A/N: I haven’t seen the movie yet, so this is based on what I could scavenge from various Marvel websites and some spoilers. This in and of itself holds no spoilers, but I’ll tag it under “Spoilers”. 

Warnings: None. Maybe some really bad spanglish (I’m Mexican but my spanish is fucking AWFUL)

(If any of my spanish is cringe or bad, please please please, correct me and suggest phrases to me. I'm totally open to criticism here!)

. “Miguel? Eyo, ¿dónde está, man? I got you some sopapillas! I think some sugar could do you some good.” 

You wandered around the large room where most of the tech was located. Various holographic screens were up, displaying what appeared to be some kind of surveillance system. Miguel was the one working tirelessly to find a way to…well you honestly had no idea. All you knew was that you were here, in this corner of the multiverse, with others like you. Apparently you were supposed to be a spider person, but something in your timeline went wrong, and you ended up there. You had no powers, but also no motivation to return to your former life. To be fair, going back to that absolute shit show of a life was the last thing on your to-do list. Instead, you settled for being a sort of assistant for Miguel. He usually had you run small errands, maybe keep tabs on certain things, or help with technical issues. You often wondered why, since Miguel seemed more than capable of doing everything himself. But, he did seem very overworked and just downright stressed out 24/7, so perhaps he did need the extra help.

You looked around, holding the styrofoam box in your hands. You were about to call out to him again, when a screen to your left suddenly flickered off, revealing the towering man behind it, causing you to jump. “GAH!!” you exclaimed, startled by his sudden appearance. 

There were slight bags under his dark eyes and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days (which was actually the case).

“Geez dude, you keep giving me heart attacks.” you said as you handed him the small box. “Got you a little something to help with the night shift.”

His brown eyes flicked down to what you were handing him and he blinked, his nose twitching in what could only be confusion or exhaustion. After a moment he sighed and took the box. “Thanks.” he mumbled before opening the box, grabbing a sopapilla and biting it. You caught a glimpse of his fangs, which made you shiver. ‘Dioses, those things look freaky.’ you thought. 

“Did you double check that timeline I told you to investigate?” Miguel cocked an eyebrow at you, his eyes regarding inquisitively. You nodded. “Sí,todo bien. I triple checked too.” 

You waited for a snarky remark about something or other, or for him to suddenly get annoyed by something, but nothing happened. Instead, he just stared at the screen to your right. You turned and saw…another version of yourself. You, the you in the video, were at a party it seemed. You were dancing and laughing, looking happier than you’ve ever felt. 

“When is that?” you asked, pointing to the holographic display, the orange glow of the screen reflecting off the gold wrist cuff you wore. 

“It’s apparently you in earth-3499, pre-serum you.” he said before taking another bite of his snack.

“Pre-serum? I don’t get bitten?” 

“Nope,” he wiped some sugar granules off his bottom lip with his thumb, and licked the rest off. He put the box down on the consol beside him and brushed his hands off. “You, in this canon universe, were injected with this serum that combined the original super-soldier serum paired with an experimental serum that had both spider DNA and some other experimental tech.”

I cringed. “Oh no, not the nano robot thingies from earth-7569.” 

“Nah, it’s something else.” He turned the screen off and leaned against the consol. He nodded to you, beckoning for you to join him up on the consol platform. You hurried up the steps and joined him. Beside him, you could clearly notice the size difference, realizing how tall he was. You glanced at him and leaned against the black console as well. 

“¿Qué pasa, hombre? No eres tú mismo. Dime, ¿qué te molesta?” 

Unlike most of the spider people around, he seemed more relaxed around you. He shared things with you, usually about his family. You couldn’t fathom why, but you consider yourself lucky to at least be in this man’s good graces. 

He looked at you, curiously, brows furrowed as if he was trying to solve a puzzle. 

“¿Por qué no quieres volver? Tenías una vida, una familia, cosas que la mayoría de nosotros luchamos por recuperar…”

You started to fidget with the sleeve of your jacket. “No sé... Supongo que mi vida canónica no fue tan... genial como la mayoría supondría.” 

Miguel placed a hand on your shoulder, in a consoling manner. You continued, “No significa que no los ayudaré a todos, simplemente no me siento obligado a volver a mi antigua vida.”

He nodded. He was about to say something else when another screen popped up with a new developing timeline. He swiveled his head, and watched as the events unfolded. He groaned in annoyance. “Oh great, what now, another canon fuck up?” 

As you both watched the timeline thingy, you unflinchingly watched as the spider-person on the screen got hit by a train. 

“Canon?”

“Yep.”

“Anything I can do?”

He pointed to the box you had given. “You get yourself something to eat. I don’t want you hangry tonight.”

You scoffed playfully. “You’re one to talk.”

 He shot you a miffed glare and threw the box at you, which you caught with ease. You chuckled, both out of unease and nervousness. “¡Que era una broma! ¡Solo una broma!”

“Uh huh, yeah, sure.” he said, sounding unimpressed.

You chuckled to yourself as you left the room. Had you turned around, you would’ve seen him shake his head and allow a small smile to grace his lips. “You’re a pain in the ass.” he mumbled. 

-end-

[letsquestjess]

Hello! I'm not too sure if this is the right place to make requests. Anyways I've had this little idea for a while. So basically, the reader occasionally talks quietly to herself, and one day, Tech ( or all the boys in like an imagine) overhears this happening. This happens for awhile then one day they mentioned it or laugh at the comment (depends who you do) and were in shock since we say the weirdest things to ourselves. Thanks for checking my idea out. No pressure to actually do this!

Hello there! Thank you for the request! 💜

I went with just Tech for this one. He has such a natural curiosity I think he wouldn't be able to help but listen to Reader's musings 😊

A New Kind of Understanding (Tech x GN!Reader)

Summary: When Tech notices you mumbling to yourself, he starts to listen to see if he can find the cause.

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: None.

-- -- -- -- --

“Okay, so that’s for this week…” You clicked your tongue and contemplated the assortment of ration packs spread out before you, counting them again. “And then that leaves these for the week after, and we should have some to spare before our next supply run. I hope it’s not the same supplier as last time.” 

As your muttered ramblings persisted, Tech’s datapad slowly dipped, his focus diverted. From his vantage point in the hazard seat, he observed you with keen interest as you lifted a stack of rations into a case. Your mumbling transformed into a vivid recollection of the chaotic sandstorm that had nearly engulfed the team, and he found himself captivated by your train of thought. Whirling grains and howling winds had hounded your steps until you had all bundled yourselves into the ship to wait out the angered elements. 

The storm outside had since subsided, but the flurry in your mind showed no signs of calming down, incoherent mumblings evolving into nonsensical rambles and a stream of random thoughts escaping your lips. Tech almost asked if you were okay before you quickly refocused on the task at hand, labelling the food inventory and rifling through the rations for the following week. 

Your words became more organised, more precise, and you methodically checked off each item on the stockpile until the list lay bare. 

“We should have more than enough until the next supply pickup,” you assured him, pushing on your legs to lift yourself up from the low cupboard. “Might also have some for emergencies.”

“That is a relief,” Tech replied. “Are the crates from the back separated too?”

With a small smile, you nodded and hummed. “Organised them first. Everything has been checked, double checked, and stamped. Even left a little extra for Wrecker.” 

“I am certain he will appreciate the gesture.” Tech’s eyes trailed after you as you descended the ramp. At the greetings that sounded outside in response to your cheerful disposition, he peeked out and scratched an itch from beneath his goggles. How often did you mumble to yourself? Had he been so absorbed in his own work that he had missed a squad mate in need? 

Continuing with the rest of his duties for the day, he made a mental note to keep an eye on you, paying attention to any subtle changes in your behaviour that could indicate potential stress. 

Tech didn’t have to wait long. As you prepared your bunk and settled down for the night, he heard your statements, faint and whispered while you set your armour by your bed. 

Entranced, he pretended to busy himself with his datapad and absorbed your voice. Although most of what you said made little sense to him, he could tell from the patterns that they held meaning to you. Mentions of something you had seen, things you needed to remember for the next day, someone from your past who had irked you. Or so he gathered. 

Tech clung to every word and felt the movement of thought resonate in his mind. Despite his scientific inclination to document his findings, he respected your privacy too much to intrude in that way. While he was open to observing a willing participant, he would never conduct experiments without your complete understanding and consent. 

Instead, he lay back in his bunk and strained his ears for any sounds that might reveal the source of your mumblings, particularly if they revealed any stress or a heavy mental burden. He approached everything with logic and purpose, but he acknowledged that certain emotions and pressures defied explanation, and made it a point to be there for you if you ever needed someone to talk to. 

* * * 

A jangle of machine parts and tools announced your arrival into the cockpit, and you carefully placed the crate onto the co-pilot seat. As you sorted through, you began to mumble, starting with comments about the items in the box and branching out into other musings. 

Standing on the captain’s chair to remove the broken lights overhead, Tech unscrewed the last panel and propped it by the console. Your ramblings continued. He missed a lot due to the rapid pace of your speech, but he caught a few statements to ponder on later.

An old documentary played through the radio, and the correspondent grated on your nerves. His condescending tone provoked you one time too many, and unable to withhold a remark anymore, you sarcastically scoffed, “about as sharp as a cable that one.” You laughed at your own quip and a quick snort from behind you responded. Your voice silenced, and Tech froze. 

“Didn’t realise you were listening to me,” you said, a shaky chuckle escaping into the quiet between you. 

“I apologise,” Tech replied. With a firm step, his feet found solid ground again in front of the rotating seat. “I… I have heard you mumbling to yourself quite a bit recently. Should you need to discuss any concerns, I am more than willing to lend a listening ear and provide assistance. I’m sure my brothers would also listen should you prefer to talk to one of them.” 

Your lips parted as though to speak, but no sound accompanied the motion. Although initially embarrassed by Tech eavesdropping on your ramblings, the realisation that he did it out of concern for your well-being eased your momentary sheepishness and left a warm sentiment in your heart. 

“That’s kind of you,” you said. “But I’m more than okay, I promise.” Despite knowing exactly what you wanted to say, you found yourself dithering for words. Coughing to clear your throat, you pressed on. “I was going through some things a few years ago, and one of my friends told me that muttering to yourself is a good way of settling your mind. It allows you to see clearer, to get rid of the mental clutter you don’t need, stuff like that.” Your fingers fidgeted and your ribs ached as anxiety climbed. “I mumble to sort through my thoughts. I know it sounds stupid, but it works. At least for me.” 

“I do not think your methods are stupid,” Tech assured you. As he neared your position, he extended his hands to grasp yours, stilling the nervous movement of your fingers. “It is a rather rational approach. I find your mumblings interesting as I get to listen to your natural stream of thought and observe how you transition from one idea to the next. As a result, I feel a deeper understanding of you.”

With a fluttered breath, your chest finally settled, comforted by the intelligence clone’s sweet yet logical manner. “Thank you,” you said, turning your palms over so that you could hold on to his hands and give them a grateful squeeze. 

“There is no need to thank me. You are a part of this team and it is imperative we look after each other.” The corner of Tech’s lips curled into a smile, and you reciprocated the gentle gesture. “Although, the offer remains unchanged. If you ever require help, you know where to find me.”

[thewitchwannabe]

Sneaking in (ninja style!)

The plan was simple enough, sneak in, get any information they could find on whatever the purple dragons were building, get out. Master Splinter even accepted their little endeavor. And so Leona stood on the top of the rooftop with her siblings and their two human allies. The plan was simple; the four turtles would sneak into the mechanical shop that worked at one the dragon’s hideouts, to find anything as to what they are doing with the tech. Casey will provide the getaway distraction, while April oversees the whole thing through the security cameras around. Donny set April up with their laptop and a headset with a microphone, “you have 6 cameras to watch over, you can double click on any of them to freeze the video for a few seconds, but if everything goes right you won't even see us”. 

April nodded with a confident smile, Casey crouched next to his childhood friend to look at the screen. His mind seemed to get a thought as his lips pulled into a tight line trying not to say. “Jones, don't you dare” April warned, but it was completely ignored. “Oh my gawd it's just like fnaf!”, the vigilante said. The two humans burst out laughing, quickly joined by Mikey who also thought the joke was hilarious. Donny, Raph and Leona stood watching the scene, with mostly amused smiles. Leo walked closer, placing her hand on Mikey’s shell, “according to the research Donny made, the opening should be happening in a few minutes so we gotta get moving”, she said “Casey you stay with April until we give the signal, alright?”

“You got it, blue” The human boy said with a sly smile. Leo felt her cheeks warm up at the nickname, but quickly went back into leader mode, instructing her siblings to follow her. The four ninjas jumped from the window with practiced ease.

The back door of the mechanical shop opened revealing a rookie member carrying two trash bags. From the shadows of the alleyway, four pairs of white eyes watched the unaware guy as he opened the trash bin. A fast shuriken shot from the shadows, creating cuts in both bags, making all the contents spill onto the floor. Making use of the distracted guy and the unlocked door, the four turtles slipped inside the building. 

The building had two stories, one used for the actual mechanic stuff, having different cars and car pieces around the first floor. While the other was offices and storage rooms. Or at least that's what they appeared to be. In reality it was more like the purple dragon's little club house. Leo spotted about twelve guys scattered across the floor, with only three of them actually working on a green van.

Carefully the ninja made their way to the second floor. A hallway of doors in front of them, one of said doors busted open as a clearly intoxicated guy walked out. The guy didn’t even see the turtles as they quickly climbed onto the ceiling and into a vent. Making their way through the air ducts, they looked through and counted another 6 gang members chilling and drinking around the place. But nothing that looked important. That is until Raph signaled at the vent he was checking. It lead to a sort of office. Two figures stood inside, the bigger one, that Raph recognized as Hun talked loudly.

“Those Foot bastards are holdin’ up on us, only giving us Baxter used stuff.” The gang leader said picking up some sort of machine and throwing it against the wall.

The other guy was of a darker complexion, clearly fit but significantly smaller than the huge Hun. “I still don’t get why we need them, we’ve been doing perfectly fine on our own,” the guy said, not even flinching at Hun’s actions. 

“Cuz right now we’re only small pond fishes, Xever, but with the stuff those ninjas can get us, we’ll be able to expand even further” Hun explained rather angrily. 

The guy, Xever, rolled his eyes at Hun. “So did you have anything important to say or did you just come here to talk shit about our sponsors?” 

Hun narrowed his eyes at Xever, as he walked over to the smaller man. Towering over him he roughly pushed something none of the turtles could make out into Xever’s chest. “Shredhead wants to meet with us” he said “Don’t be late”

Xever looked as Hun walked out the room, before pocketing the object. “Whatever you say boss” he said before following behind the gang leader. 

The office room was left silent and completely abandoned. Donnie asked April to freeze the video of the room before the youngest turtle busted the vent and jumped down, quickly followed by his siblings. The room was filled with blueprints and what looked like unfinished prototypes. Donny quickly got to work scanning the blueprints, quickly followed by Mikey completely destroying them. Leo and Raph looked through the boxes finding similar machines as the ones they got with Casey. Once he was done, Donny tossed Mikey a tiny mic, “Place it somewhere they don't see it” they instructed. The orange banded turtle gave a joking salute and went to find the perfect spot.

Donny reached his other siblings inspecting two almost completed models of the robot depicted in the blueprints. “We’re taking those, it’s much more finished than the ones we have in the lair”, Leo gave a sharp nod and went to pack the robot and a few spare parts into boxes. Raph looked up at the vent they had used to get it, and then back at the rather large boxes. “I don’t think we’ll be able to fit those through the vents”. Mikey appeared suddenly leaning heavily against his younger brother, who tried to swat him away only getting a chuckle from the other turtle. “I think Raphie is right guys” he says finally letting go of his brother.

The older sibling looked at the vents and then back at each other, silently agreeing. They agreed that they were going to have to get out the “normal way”, aka actually using the hallways. But doing so while carrying two big and heavy boxes and not being spotted by the approximately 20 gang members inside the building was not exactly easy. Luckily they had a distraction at the ready. Leo pressed her fingers to the earpiece, “Hey Case, time to do your thing” she said. The line turned to static for a second before Casey’s voice resonated in Leo’s earpiece, “Roger that, preciosa”. Despite not knowing what he had called her, the playful tone of the vigilante’s voice made her face warm up. Her mask hiding the small blush that formed on her cheeks. 

April informed them that Casey, now decked out with his mask, hockey bag filled with sports equipment and a pair of roller blades, had gone out to the main entrance of the mechanic shop to rile up the gang, with somewhat disturbing efficiency. Easily getting Xever and the whole gang inside the building to come out. Which correlated to the turtles hearing how the people in the second floor ran out their respective rooms. Waiting a few seconds to make sure everyone was gone, the four ninja carefully slipped out of the office. As they reached the first floor, they noticed the garage door wide open. Outside stood the gang members surrounding Casey. The gang was rowdy and impatient, ready to jump on the teenage vigilante.

Xever held a hand up, telling his guys to calm down “Go home garoto, Hun is already gone, so no need to beat you up” he said.

“What's wrong? Not so tough without your boss around, huh?” Casey loudly teased. Xever stood in front of the vigilante with an annoyed look. 

“You do realize we drastically outnumber you right?” Xever asked

“You do realize half your guys are completely drunk right?” the vigilante retorted 

The turtles knew exactly where the human’s little conversation was going, so they got back to action. They were almost at the door they entered through, when Donny spotted the green van sitting in the workshop. “I got an idea, go help Casey!” Donny said, running to the van with one of the boxes. Quickly picking up on Donny’s idea, Leo dropped her own boxes next to the vehicle and instructed her brothers to follow her. As the turtles start making they way towards their friend Xever brings down his hand, telling his people to go at Casey. 

The vigilante used his rollerblades to quickly evade the attacks coming at him. Many of them were sloppy, and unrefined as they tried to fight their own intoxication. Pulling his hockey stick, Casey blocked and hit his opponents. But he became predictably outnumbered, as the gang came in closer. Suddenly a fast blur that knocked out several goons appeared before him. “You really do know how to make an entrance blue”, Casey said. The turtle turned to face her friend with a confident smile and both swords drawn. “Not just me”, she said and as clockwork two more figures joined them, Mikey and Raph beating their way to them. 

The four stood with their backs against each other as the dragons quickly surrounded them, everything stood still for a second before one of the goons yelled “Get them!” and the fighting resumed. The four vigilantes took on the onslaught of gangsters, while Donny worked on hijacking the van in the mechanic shop. Casey used his great variety of equipment to attack his opponents, keeping them at a hockey stick length, while he used his rollerblades to skate around them and place a solid hit. Mikey jumped around the battlefield, mocking and teasing the drunken goons, easily avoiding their sloppy attacks and returning fast and hard hits with his chucks. Raph stood closer to his brother, taking on the guys that were left stunted from a nunchuck to the face, using his sais to bring them down. Leona was elegant as always, moving light on her feet like a butterfly, swiftly disarming her opponents as well as assisting both her brothers and Casey when needed. 

Xever stood back watching the fight, finally seeing the turtle freaks Hun had told him about with his own eyes. He dodges a few of his stumbling men as they walk off the hits they got and makes his way to the center of the fight. He pushes his way through until he’s face to face with the masked vigilante one again. “So little Armando really is friends with freaks”, he said, taking a hold of the baseball bat heading his way. Casey immediately dropped the bat and fell to his knees allowing Leo to jump on his back to attack Xever. The sword managed to grace Xever’s leg as he moved out the way. The two teens stood side by side, Leo gripped her katana tighter as Casey pulled out a golf club. Xever looked around to see most of his guys laying on the floor semi unconscious. 

Just as he was weighing his options, from the open garage a van rolled out at max speed towards them. Making a large drift it surrounded the group and got behind Casey and the turtles. Behind the wheel was Donny and April who had made her way to the mechanic shop while everyone was distracted with the fight. Leo signaled for Mikey and Raph to get in the van. The younger turtles gave their opponents a final hit before quickly getting in through the van’s back door. Once his little siblings were aboard Donny shifted the gear into reverse and back away and onto the street at a somewhat moderate pace. 

Leo and Casey stood back not making sure they weren’t trying to follow them. Leona shot three shurikens at the guys trying to go for their own vehicles, while Casey rounded the still conscious goons with his skates. Xever could only look as the group of teens left his group in shambles. Leo looked back at the van seeing it a little further down the street with the back doors fully open. “Casey! let’s book it!”, she said, deming her opponents effectively defeated and her siblings at a safe distance. Both her and Casey started running after the van which slowed down a little after seeing them approaching. Using his rollerblades to move faster Casey caught up to Leo “Let’s go preciosa!”, in a swift move lifted her from the ground bridal style. Leo’s eyes went wide open and her face warmed up as the vigilante held her tighter. Casey made sure to turn his head back at Xever who was watching them get away, and stuck his tongue out mockingly. It didn’t take long for the two of them to catch up to the moving van. Casey dropped Leo inside as gently as he could and was quickly pulled up by the oldest turtle. 

They looked back at the mess of purple dragons laying in the street, Xever looking rather pissed. Casey could help but smirk at their handiwork, “Hey blue, wanna learn some spanish?” he asked. Leo looked at her human friend and nodded with an amused look. The vigilante took a deep breath and yelled “CHINGUEN A SU MADRE!”. From the front seat Leo heard April burst out laughing, quickly followed by Casey and her sibling. She copied Casey’s deep breath, and tried her best to repeat what Casey had said. Knowing very well it was most likely a curse word but not finding it in herself to care, as she was filled with adrenaline and joined the human’s laughter. Quickly followed by her siblings. She and Casey closed the van’s door, big smiles plastered on their faces. Leona felt her face warm up in a way that was becoming rather familiar as she laughed with Casey. The teens rode on their new van back to the lair to celebrate their successful mission.

Part 1

Previous

Next

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

You're just like an angel pt5

After breakfast, Miguel took your plate and washed it. The silence deafening and you could cut the tension in the room until the device on his wrist rang. He shot another web at you which covered your mouth.

"Yes?" He asked as a small projection of the lady you'd seen a few days ago appeared.

"I've been trying to get in contact with you for ages, why haven't you been answering?" She asked.

"I've been busy" he replied.

"Yeah I was told, were you aware an anomaly escaped the facility last night?" She asked him.

"Is that so?" He asked. He was certain he'd covered his tracks, so why was she alerted about an escape?

"Yes, I'm on my way to catch them now" she explained. This wasn't good.

"Are you sure that it's an anomaly?" He asked. She looked at him weirdly before speaking.

"What do you mean, am I sure? you said this tech is never incorrect" she asked.

"I know I said that but recently it's had a few kinks so LYLA and I have been working on a patch for a couple of issues, that's why I've been so busy" he lied.

"Well, I'm going to double-check, just in case," she said. He hung up before pulling you into a room and using his webs to restrain your arms and legs before putting you on the carpeted floor.

"This won't be for long, I'll remove those restraints as soon as she's gone," he told you before closing the door behind you, leaving you in the dark. The only light was the light that peered through the door frame.

You waited for what seemed like hours before a doorbell rang and that lady's voice could be heard.

"Oh I didn't realize this was your house," she said.

You tried to scream loud as you could to get her attention but the webbing muffled all your attempts.

"Yes, it is, guess my watch must be giving out a dud transmission" Miguel replied.

"Actually what time did it indicate that the anomaly left?" He asked.

"Around 22 o'clock" she replied.

"That was when I left, definitely must be my watch" he explained.

"Well I hope you can sort out those issues soon Miguel," she said.

"Yes I'll put it as my top priority" he replied before what you assumed was the front door closed, then the door to the room you were in opened. Miguel towered over you, truly settling into the hopelessness you were currently in.

He kneeled before you and held your chin in his hand as the talons on his fingers appeared, you could feel them threatening to pierce the skin on your face as he held you in place as he carefully dragged one of his fingers across your lips as sliced away the webbing. His crimson eyes looking down at you, longing for something.

"You're so beautiful" he commented before he made quick work of the rest of the webbing.

"You make me feel sick" you snarled in response. Revolted by his presence.

"You'll feel the same way soon dear, you just need time," he told you as if you were a child.

🕷🕷🕷

Whenever he left you took the opportunity to get your hands on any electronics in the house. You inspected them and figured out what they did. All of it made you feel exceptionally old, like how a grandmother would feel using a computer for the first time.

Right now you had your hands on one of his tablets. Looking through it to see if he might have useful information for you. A blueprint of the device on his wrist, the location of that lair of his, and any other hints as to how to go home.

Unfortunately, it seemed like this was his personal one for home. The only thing you managed to find were house listings on a real-estate site, was he planning of moving? If so, that wouldn't be good. You'd have to start investigating all over again.

Slowly you began to figure out what each thing did. You should have tried calling the police but that would not help your situation, if anything it would make your chances of returning to your dimension a lot slimmer.

Sometimes you wondered if circumstances between you and Miguel had been different, would you have fallen in love with him? From what others said about relationships he was what people would consider a catch. He cooked, cleaned, and seemed like a family-oriented man from the photos on display.

Perhaps his loss led him to do what he did, didn't excuse him from what he did to you but if you tried to talk him through his loss he might let you go, but you'd need to have some good psychological skills to do that which you doubt you have.

The door opened and you quickly hid it under the pillow beside you.

"You realize I get notifications on my phone whenever you use any of my devices," he said as he walked in the door with a bag in hand. You sat still flustered that you were caught.

"Sorry I was out so late, I brought home some Italian" he explained as he walked to the table and unpacked the paper bag, pulling out a few cardboard containers.

"I got us some arancini and garlic bread to share" he continued.

"Thank you" you halfheartedly said.

"What's the matter? If it's about me being late I promise I'll take you out for a day" he said almost like clockwork. This is exactly what he'd tell his wife and daughter in this universe. After he'd found his family in that universe he'd quit being Spiderman and put them at the forefront of his life. He wished he could do the same thing for you but now the stakes of quitting were a lot higher.

"No it's not about that, you know exactly why," you told him.

"I can't do that," he told you.

"It's not that you can't Miguel, it's that you don't. This isn't good for either of us and I know that somewhere deep down you know this" you blew up at him.

"I'm sick of being trapped in this house, I just want to go home and see my family again," you said.

"They probably think I'm dead after all this time" you continued. It had been almost a month since you'd been trapped here.

"Just come here and have some dinner, I don't have time to talk about this," he told you.

"No, you never have time to talk about it because you don't want to hear it, you're delusional… pretending that we're a regular couple" you argued

"I don't know if this is because of the loss of your family or you've always been like this but you need to find some professional help and let me go" you continued. Then the glass dining table shattered. A vivid blue liquid poured from the wounds on his hand, his talons exposed.

"This is for your own good! If I were to send you back your life would most likely end in misery, Vultures and any other villains for that matter usually either die or get locked up for the rest of their lives!" He yelled as made his way towards you.

"And you think this is any better? Locked up in this house of yours isolated from those I love" You argued.

"I was going to bring your family here as a surprise but I haven't had the time to prepare. Would that make you happy?" He seethes. Your eyes widened in shock and your blood boiled. You stood up and looked directly up into his eyes.

"No, I don't trust you near them whatsoever" you hissed.

"If you even so much as lay a hand on one of them I'll… I'll" you warned but was unable to threaten him. There was no way you were going to let him drag your family into this mess.

"You'll what? What can you do against me?" He hissed back.

Your knuckles cracked as you clenched tightly into a white-knuckled fist. Without even thinking you had hooked him in the jaw with all the force you had. He stumbled back a little and rubbed his jaw before his blood-red eyes returned to you. That was the first time you'd managed to inflict even a slight amount of pain on him but it was enough to trigger that hair-thin temper. Without your gear you were just a bird without wings, defenseless.

Before you even had a chance to react he grabbed the collar of your shirt and hoisted you in the air, your legs dangling helplessly.

"I've been patient with you, I've tried to accommodate for you whenever I could yet after it all you still reject me! You treat me as if I was some kind of monster" he hissed through grit teeth, baring fangs you hadn’t seen before.

"Because you are!" You responded.

"You want to see a monster?! I'll show you a monster!" he howled.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Dinner + Snippets (LU Healthcare AU)

In which Time finds his target, Warriors grumbles about orientation tediousness, and Wind studies as well as I do.

(Click here to read on AO3)

Time flashed his badge by the reader, and a beep emitted from it. Double doors opened automatically, granting him access to an inpatient unit. Stepping in, his eyes glanced around, looking for anyone fitting the picture Rusl and Uli had sent him.

Malon had somehow figured out that Twilight did, in fact, work in Hyrule Hospital. Time wasn’t sure how his wife always was so excellent at figuring out these things, but he knew if he ever needed information he could go to her and she would scour heaven and earth to find it.

Of course that meant Time was the one who had to deal with this awkward conversation. Because Malon was in a staff meeting. Naturally.

Sighing, Time again scanned the environment. A few nurses looked at him curiously, but no one stopped him or spoke to him.

He paused his stride, his gaze settling on an alcove.

There you are.

Time walked to the alcove where the person who had to be Twilight stood. He was doing a quality control test on a glucometer, occupied with his task and not noticing Time’s approach.

The surgeon reached his destination and cleared his throat.

Twilight looked up, locking eyes with him. “Uh, hi. Do you need me to move?”

The accent confirmed it. This was definitely Twilight. Except the picture didn’t quite match. Picture Twilight was smiling, flushed with cheer, and hugging his family. This Twilight was pale, with dark circles under his eyes, sunken cheeks, and holding one of his arms closer than the other.

Time had been in enough fights and had treated enough injuries to know the signs.

Stopping himself from immediately diagnosing and addressing the issue, he settled for an introduction. “No, don’t move. You’re the one I’m here for. You’re Twilight, correct?”

Twilight nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“My wife, Malon, is your mother’s cousin. Your parents had asked us to check in on you when you got into town.”

Time watched as dawning comprehension blossomed on Twilight’s face. The tech immediately blushed, eyes wide.

“You’re Time,” he said.

Time smiled.

Twilight groaned. “I’m—I’m sorry, I—I got your texts, but I just—and my phone died and I don’t have a charger—”

Inconsistent story, lying, looked like hell, and he was injured. Time bit back a sigh, his chest tightening. Malon started this mess, but now he was invested.

“Let me see your arm,” he interrupted Twilight’s spluttering.

Twilight’s rambles halted, and he gave him a bewildered look. “M-my arm?”

Time held out his left hand, motioning with his fingers that Twilight hold out his right arm, which he had been hugging slightly closer to his body. Twilight hesitated a moment longer, and then acquiesced. Time took his arm in both hands, slowly feeling over muscle and bone, his stomach churning the more he did so. Twilight wore long sleeves, and the instant Time slid it up to his bicep the bruises were evident. Suspicious, Time immediately scanned the crook of Twilight’s arm where it bent at the joint, but he saw no track marks.

Good. No drugs, then.

“So who started the fight?” Time asked softly, pulling the sleeve up a bit higher to investigate further.

Twilight practically crumpled under Time’s gaze, looking at the floor. “I guess I did.”

Time tried to remember everything he’d heard about this kid. Rusl and Uli had sung his praises. They’d said he was a kind, gentle, goodhearted, responsible, and polite boy. They’d said he’d gone to a nearby city to work and had come back quieter and withdrawn before he’d gotten his CNA certification and headed for Castle Town. Clearly something in that initial time alone affected him, but this wasn’t the moment to be delving into that. Whatever it had done, Twilight’s polite nature still seemed intact. Whether the rest of his good qualities were around remained to be seen, but Time wasn’t going to make too many poor assumptions quite yet.

He himself had been quite the troublemaker when he was younger, after all.

“Did you win?” Time continued analyzing. Twilight winced when he squeezed gently on his upper arm. There it was.

“Yes,” Twilight mumbled, still reluctant to meet his eyes.

“You want to tell me why you were in a fight?”

“People were trying to steal from someone.”

Time looked up at Twilight’s face, pausing from his assessment. “Where was this?”

“Please, sir,” Twilight appealed, pulling out of his grip. “I don’t want to worry my parents. Everything’s okay, I promise. I really like this job, and I’m only just starting, and I don’t want to cause trouble.”

Time took a step back to give him some space. “I’m not here to cause trouble, Twilight. Just to check in on you. But you are meeting me in the lobby at the end of your shift. You get off at seven, I presume?”

Twilight grew stiff, crossing his arms defensively. Time hid his smile. Well, the boy was polite, but he wasn’t a pushover. Good.

“Can you at least tell me what this is about?” Twilight asked, hugging his injured arm.

“Dinner,” Time answered simply. “You’re skin and bones. Probably got a few nutritional deficits too, and that makes healing from your fight a bit more difficult. Besides, Malon will want to meet you.”

Twilight bit his lip, deflating. He nodded, rolling down his sleeve.

XXX

“Good grief, CBLs are a pain in the ass,” Warriors grumbled as he madly clicked the next button as soon as the next slide loaded.

Legend stood behind him, munching on some chips. “Oh, I just finished this one a while ago.”

Warriors looked at him. “Wait, why did you do this one? It’s part of the orientation package – you’re new too?”

Legend shrugged. “I’m a travel nurse, I came in a few weeks ago. My orientation’s faster than yours.”

Warriors sighed heavily, resigning himself back to the computer. A call bell suddenly rang, and he and Legend both glanced at the little monitor that indicated where it was coming from. Noting that it was his patient, Warriors clicked even faster to get through the slides and blew out a relieved breath when he reached the quiz. He stood up to check on his patient, who was only asking for some water and if their lab results were back yet. Warriors supplied the drink, checked their medical record, and found no results.

When he plopped himself back into his seat at the nurse’s station, the computer-based learning module had timed out.

“Son of a b—”

“Hey now, don’t get too excited,” Legend piped up from his own seat.

Warriors scowled at him. “You could’ve at least tried to make sure it didn’t time out.”

Legend smirked, crunching his chips loudly. “It’s way funnier watching you get pissed off.”

Warriors saw someone approaching behind Legend, and his annoyance immediately turned to amusement. He smirked at Legend. “It’s also way funnier watching this.”

Legend furrowed his brow, trying to figure out what Warriors was talking about, when the nursing supervisor strolled up to the station, looking pointedly at the food in Legend’s hands.

“No food at the nursing station,” the supervisor said sternly. “That’s regulation. It’s unsanitary.”

Legend choked on his chips, startled and caught in the act, as Warriors leaned back, folding his hands behind his head and enjoying the show.

XXX

Wind grumbled as he read through his textbook, and he eventually let his head fall onto the pages. Maybe osmosis could work on schoolwork and he could just let the information absorb into his brain.

He heard shuffling beside him, and he looked over to his right. “I know, Tingle. This sucks.”

His pet miniature potbelly pig snorted in agreement, lying down beside him. Wind rubbed his pet's head briefly and then glared at his textbook once more.

“I don’t know how Wars or Time or Sky got through any of this stuff,” he grumbled. “Though I guess Sky didn’t go to as much schooling. Being a pilot sounds like fun. Maybe I should’ve been a pilot.”

Tingle oinked.

Wind sighed. “You’re right. I’ve wanted to do this and I said was gonna, and I don’t back down when I commit. So I’m going to get through this stupid chapter!”

Nodding to himself, Wind plopped the heavy hardback textbook onto his lap and glared at the pages as if he could cow them into submission. His phone vibrated for a moment and he glanced to see a text message from Warriors.

Picking up food on the way home. What do you want?

Wind gasped in excitement, fingers flying over his phone. Oh! How about that seafood place we said we’d try out?

Warriors started typing in response, and Wind watched the little text bubble swell and shrink with anticipation. Impatient, he continued, Or we could try that other place. McDinkle’s, I think? Sounded kinda lame tho.

He paused another minute, and then, OH WAIT what about that Rito place they had all kinds of sweets and stuff

Wars

WARS

ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING

DUDE

Finally, Warriors’ text bubble appeared. Ok so what do you want from their menu?

Then there was a pause, and, good grief, kid, I can’t keep up with your typing. So what do you want to eat??

Wind rolled his eyes, looking at Tingle. “Honestly, he’s so slow with typing. Guess we’d better save him, Tingle.”

Typing hastily, he said how about we meet at the seafood place and then go to the sweets place after

The text bubble came and went. Wind could practically hear Warriors sighing.

Fine. Meet you at the seafood place. Bet I can get there faster ;)

Wind gasped, incensed. “Oh, you’re on!!”

Textbook completely forgotten, Wind scrambled around as Tingle squawked in delight and then the teenager was out the door.

[cesium-sheep]

I think the immunologist actually went really well?

the tech bringing me back and checking bp and stuff was like "you're not here for regular seasonal allergies you don't have to worry about these parts of the form" and also totally understanding when I said my baseline bp tends high due to one of my meds. (although once again it was not high today)

the doctor themself offered/ordered additional diagnostics but doesn't disagree with the diagnosis at all, just thinks it could be vindicating and/or open up new treatment possibilities. they were pleased to see I'd done so much reading (I brought both books just in case) and that I had my consolidated/abbreviated lab results with me.

they said there's still a lot we can do, if I hear of new things they don't mention they're happy to look into them, there are experts that we can try if we run out of ideas, and they're not giving up on me. they explicitly said they're not giving up on me.

they also seemed to completely understand after one glance at my sf-36 chart that I am Not Stable, and they also completely understood the first time that I am perfectly happy to taper off the prednisone but I cannot do that when I am Not Stable and no one has been giving me anything else. they agreed that mr grodesky's "taper" was highly ill-advised.

they even understood that it was bad when I said I was too sick to crochet ;n;

(they also seemed understanding when I was squishy on whether or not I've experienced anaphylaxis and said that a bp drop during a flare could be indicative of anaphylaxis just by itself, so, wheee)

they asked what hobbies I have and I mentioned the manga sale and they actually waited to listen to my lungs just to hear what I had to say about it, and asked a follow up question after they were done, not to fill time but just because. that's very kind.

we're gonna double down on the loratadine and add a different h2, and also run some cumbersome annoying labs. if neither of those are enough we'll add the ketotifen, which has to come from a compounding pharmacy, and I don't have to go in for a new appt for that I can just message them. they also said their number is listed in several places in my visit summary and stuff.

I did ask just like, in the whisper ramble tags, on the kirblog, for people to maybe include me in their prayers if they had space and were the praying type. I guess it worked. I'll be sure to thank them.

we don't know yet if any of these med changes will work, but after 2 years of T-posing in a cornfield someone (other than me) is doing something. not just wringing their hands and looking worried (or actively shooing me away). something is actually happening, that's meant to actually address my problems.

I made sure to tell them that I appreciate them being upfront with me, and being like, on board. they talked like they're joining the team, not just doing a quick consult.

so I've gotta deal with the cumbersome home lab, update pcp and hem, and decide whether or not to keep the other immunologist. but that can wait. it was very exhausting.

also arin let me listen to one of my cds in the car and sing along loud even though she's probably tired. (she's never actually complained about me singing too loud I don't think, it's just that other people have.)

[skye-huntress]

The Witch from Mercury Reaction

Episode 7: “Shall we Gundam?”

Look at the Big 3 all conspiring together, as if they weren’t all plotting behind each others’ backs this entire time. Who am I kidding? They probably still are.

I’m sure those who didn’t completely tune out during the opening noticed the slight change. Apparently we have two more mobile suits to watch out for even though we still haven’t seen Shaddiq’s yet.

So “Elan” hasn’t shown up to school in a while, and I do not want to know how long Suletta was waiting for him. Since she has never had a single cynical thought in her life, she’s doesn’t think ill of him and is only worried.

Mio-Mio still trying to put up a front and pretend she has never worried about anyone else’s troubles in her life. We know that’s not true because she used her one chance to smuggle out of the school to confront her father on Suletta’s behalf. That’s to say nothing of all the times she’s been looking out for Suletta since and even in this episode the list continues.

Miorine and Suletta certainly clean up well. I love how Mio-Mio went through the trouble of making sure her fiancée looks nice, probably did her hair and make-up, too.

Meanwhile Nika and Martin just show up in their uniforms and stand out the most among all the formal wear.

So there’s “history” between Shaddiq and Miorine. Not sure how comfortable I am about that when even Guel, the boy who assaulted his ex-fiancée, finds the way Shaddiq treats girls distasteful.

Shaddiq does seem to know Miorine well enough to know that it is so uncharacteristic of her to go out of her way to help Suletta check up on Elan when she doesn’t like or trust the guy.

Speaking of the has-been, no surprise he’s a no show in this episode, probably camping out in the woods this whole time while his brother continues to jump whenever daddy says to.

Prospera is quite unnerving, she is always the picture of confidence, like she always knows the exactly what will happen, and what the outcome will be. More importantly, it’s like she is already in Miorine’s head and knows exactly how the girl will react and what she needs to hear before she knows she needs to hear it.

There it is again, the reference to the “Vanadis incident” 21 years ago, as if we needed further confirmation. There seems to be a consensus at least on Tumblr that Eri is somehow a part of Aerial, though I still think there are a few twists in store on that end. As for Suletta, I too considered that her consciousness at least might be that of Lfrith from the prologue presumably in the former body of Eri, and I wasn’t the only one apparently but there’s still a few holes in that theory. It’s certainly the most interesting theory for me, but it’s still too early to commit to that idea. For all I know, Suletta could simply be Eri’s half-sister.

Getting side-tracked here, let’s move on to Elan Ceres. That bastard really is going to take advantage of the trust his former double earned. I don’t even want to think about how long Peil Tech will play this game. It will be curious to see how his next double will play the role. The cold and indifferent act might have been Number 4’s way of coping, but Number 5 will be their own person and perhaps have strict orders to at least be more approachable where Suletta is concerned to maintain the relationship.

Before I forget, seems there’s something going on between Nika and Shaddiq, and the former doesn’t seem to proud of it. I’m not one to draw conclusions from a single interaction, but Nika does have access to Aerial.

So the big three got Suletta on stage, and led her into unwittingly confirming to everyone that Aerial is a Gundam, even when as far as Suletta is concerned she’s not. Not that she knows what a Gundam is or why that’s a bad thing, but her mother said she wasn’t and Suletta trusts her word completely.

So Peil Tech is offering to shut down their own development program and scrap their Gundam as a sign of good faith for breaking the Cathedra Agreement, hoping to back Shin Sei into doing the same. Of course, that’s absolute nonsense because Peil had already violated the agreement in the first place and have zero credibility. No one in their right mind would believe they wouldn’t break the agreement or any others in a heartbeat, but none of these walking suits care about these agreements, or ethics, or honest business practices. This is and always was about power and control.

It seems Lauda’s role was to keep Prospera out of the room so she could not defend herself or her company’s actions in her absence. What Jeturk failed to realise however is how obvious that kind of ploy is. Prospera would have seen right through even if she didn’t see it coming, but she went along with it anyway because she had already assured her desired outcome.

Got to say, major props to Miorine, making that proposal, banking on the Group’s greed. Aerial has already been proven to out-perform the best the three branches could throw at it, even with under-handed tactics. And of course she had to make a point that the bio-ethical concerns are bogus since she’s seem up close and personal that Suletta can pilot Aerial without issue.

And then swallowing her pride to beg her father for funding, which he provided even as he still refers to Gundams as a curse. This seems particularly personal for him, he probably knew someone who was a Gundam pilot.

This is certainly an interesting development, it seems Miorine will be quite busy making her proposal happen. There’s no denying it at this point, everything she did was for Suletta, although this is also good for her. If she did run away, she’d always be on the run until she either died or got caught. That’s not freedom.

But the final bombshell is important, Suletta once again clarifying what her mother said, that Aerial is not a Gundam. And her mother, whom she trusts completely and has always looked up, to admits that she lied to her. That’s quite the betrayal of trust, which isn’t something that Suletta has really experienced yet. With Number 4, she was just confused and kept misreading the situation and the mixed signals he was giving her, but here’s her own mother telling her point blank with a smile on her face that she lied to her, and about Aerial of all topics. Like, what does one do with this information?

[bitacrytic]

Dum and Dee

While Pete filled in the answers to his online, Statistics test, Porsche rummaged through the shelf of books at the far end of Pete’s office. 

They’d been guessing for a while now, but they just couldn’t figure out who was behind the site. The people who could do it were too busy and the people who were free, couldn’t. 

“It’s Arm and Pol,” Vegas said, sitting up from where he was lying on the sofa.

“No, it's not,” Porsche said.

“Arm knows tech. Pol is the writer.”

"Where would they get the time?” Pete asked. “Between their individual duties, guarding Khun-Tankhun and following Khun-Kinn on missions, at what point do you think they’d take a break to write about their bosses fucking?”

Vegas sighed in exasperation and left the room.

***

That night, Pete found his ringing phone before it woke Vegas.

“What the fuck, Porsche?” Pete whispered.

“Vegas was right,” Porsche whispered back.

“About what?” Pete looked over to check if Vegas had woken, but he hadn’t.

“About Arm and Pol.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“Why are you whispering?” Porsche asked back.

“Vegas is tired.”

“So is Kinn.”

“How did you find out?”

Porsche was silent.

“Porsche?”

“Okay, so it’s not that I don’t trust my boyfriend-”

“What did you do?”

“Arm and I have a system. If Kinn goes out without support, I like to know where he goes, so Arm... helps.”

Pete rubbed his temple, softly.

“Okay?"

“So, I went to supervise, while Arm went after Kinn and would you guess what I found? His email was open and I saw dozens of emails between him and Pol. Rough notes, first drafts. You name it. It’s them, Pete,” Porsche said, sounding horrified.

Naked, Pete rushed into the bathroom.

“Oh fuck, Vegas is going to be so horrible if he finds out he was right.”

“I know!” Porsche agreed.

“He will never let us live this down.”

“What do we do?"

"What do you mean, what do we do?" Pete asked. "Nothing."

"We can't just let him get us."

"We don't bring it up. We just - we just forget the whole thing."

"And then the next time he talks about it, we pretend that we were the ones who suggested Arm and Pol."

Pete wanted to agree but, "You want me to gaslight him?"

"Hey, you owe me, Pete."

"The fuck for?"

"Remember that time you convinced me to go through Kinn's things without his permission?"

Pete flinched. He'd walked right into that one.

"Porsche!"

"Let's do it this way and we can call it even. Deal?"

"Deal," Pete said reluctantly, just before the line went dead.

Fuck. Pete hated lying to Vegas. But Porsche was right. They'd both connived against Kinn. Maybe this was Pete's turn to keep something from Vegas.

Or...

He could tell the Vegas the whole truth, double-cross Porsche and let Porsche think that Pete was on his side.

Yeah. Yes. Right. That sounded like a much better plan.

♧♧♧

♧♧♧

Read Another

[miashyperfixations]

EMLYN: NO-ONE CAME TO GRIEVE UK/EU TOUR

30.03.2023 @ The Deaf Institute, Manchester (250 Capacity)

Written April 2023

This was my second show at The Deaf Institute and Emlyn’s first show in Manchester however, this is her last show of the tour with only 2 other dates in London & Berlin, similar to the Dylan show I saw there. There was a Paris show when the tour was announced, but that was cancelled due to another opportunity arising for her album release. Emlyn’s alt-pop sound is a mixture of all of my music tastes - think Demi Lovato's 'confident' era pop anthems meets Taylor Swift's reputation era style mixed with Sabrina Carpenter's heartbreak lyricism.

I started listening to Emlyn’s music mid-pandemic and wanted to go to her album release show in London in the early summer of 2022. However, it clashed with my GCSEs, so I wasn’t able to go. This time, the minute she announced this tour, I made plans to go and was also able to book tickets for her meet & greet before the concert and talk to her, buy merch & have a full conversation with the opening act, Beth Mcarthy.

Her set was amazing, I had only listened to a few of her songs a couple of days beforehand, and what I heard was great. She also played an unreleased song and a cover of Billie Eilish’s ‘Happier Than Ever’. Something I found interesting is that she interacted with the sound tech at the back right beforehand whilst on stage, asking for alterations in her IEMs and double-checking the sound on her guitar. We then saw Emlyn’s band come on to double-check their instruments and IEMs inbetween sets and could see them alter a few monitors/boxes on stage & see the guitarist set up and soundcheck. In the intermission between sets my sister approached Emlyn’s manager to say potentially have a chat and say hi but Emlyn was due to come on stage very soon so told her he'd be hanging around after the show so we could come and find him then. The set itself was absolutely incredible. As I said earlier, I've wanted to see Emlyn live for a while now, and she didn't disappoint. If the fact that she had an entire set of belters and vocally challenging songs wasn't enough, her stage presence clearly showed that she's a pop powerhouse. The emotionally vulnerable lyrics of her ‘sad bitch anthems’ perfectly opposed her 'no-remorse bad bitch' anthems and encapsulated her message that it's okay to be a mess and a badass at the same time. After one of her most emotional songs 'Change For Me' the crowd (including us) held up flowers & pictures of her younger self with sweet messages for her to show her that she isn't alone. The transitions between songs were particularly interesting as some of them were medleys of other songs she didn’t play but had the same themes/vibes of those that she did play. Although I didn’t necessarily relate to any of her songs, it was fun to sing along in a room full of those that did and see how much Emlyn has impacted them/their lives.

After the concert, we weren’t expecting her manager to remember us since we assumed he’d be distracted by work, so we were a little surprised when he came out from backstage and walked directly towards us. We had a full conversation with him as I'm considering going into a music business course post-college, and my sister wants to go into graphic design, specifically in the music industry. He gave us a lot of advice about the industry as a whole and a few specific notes into specific sectors. He seemed really enthusiastic talking to us about it. We were really glad that he took the time to talk to us and have a proper conversation with us.

One of my favourite things about Emlyn is that she’s currently working on her 3rd album yet is still almost entirely independent, working most of the time with just her manager and producer. She’s been in the music industry , working with her manager as a songwriter for almost 6 years, only pursuing a solo career for the last 3 The fact that she’s persevered and stayed chasing her dream just shows how determined she is and how much potential she has to be one of the next biggest names in pop.

I know that I said Dylan @ the o2 institute was my favourite concert, but this one definitely takes the top spot - I love this venue and to see my 3rd top artist of 2022 (below 5 Seconds Of Summer & Taylor Swift) at the Deaf Institute was the best birthday experience I could've ever imagined & I can't wait to hear her next album sometime this year.

[blankdblank]

The White Dove Pt 26 - Proof & Pain

“Found a head,” Clint said, nudging the purple head with his boot, “It’s that Thane guy,” recognizing him from the footage they had found to have been playing all day during their drug induced haze.

Fury beside him nudged Thane’s body stating, “And the rest of him. He died here, but there’s blue-ish grey blood over there,” he said, gesturing to a body free dried pool of blood not far from Thane’s burnt orange blooded mess. “Someone got away.”

Mariah, from around the corner, said, “Found the hatches Misique burst them out of, no clue on who was in there though,” she said. Nodding to the open hatch without trace of a body shown to have been down there by hair or skin cells on the bindings and collars. Unlike yours hadn’t been burned beyond the ability to find genetic material on them.

“Pluto Pear,” Fury said lowly, showing her his phone to share footage of the teen he had been watching over for a couple years now his drone had picked up on jean and boot clad self entering her building at Eddie’s side. “Someone knows there’s one kid to lure Misique and Venom into an all out war. Either that, or it was a double cell.” That had Mariah’s lips part.

And Clint nearby tilted his head to the side lowly added, “She is short. No sign of her at any bars or clubs. Wouldn’t be the first kid who was trained up.”

Fury eyed Tony who stepped over the blood stain entering the hall to say, “All liquefied. Blimp is clear, pretty cool shielding tech, could get some nice jet coverage with a variation for SHIELD just give me a couple months to work things out so it doesn’t, well, explode.”

Fury said, “We’ll park this in the hangar, you’ll have ample time. Can’t imagine there’s anything too dangerous or they’d have hit the self destruct if they have one.”

Stark, “They the dead guys or Queen Bee?” he said waving a finger in a circle, “Doesn’t seem spectacular aside from the panels, but even Jarvis can hear they give off a pulse to keep the image steady. No telling if she wanted the tech she could go quieter beyond detection.” He looked around again. “Wouldn’t think blimp with how this guy talked about walking with Death and all that.”

Mariah asked softly, “You want me to check in on the kid?” as Stark went to lower down into the hatch you had been kept in that had the most damage.

Fury shook his head, “Her brother is there, say we give her some space to decompress and work her frustrations out on that ship of hers.”

Mariah said, “Just, Ricky said she’s filed the papers on her parents.”

Fury said, “Maybe then mention to him for a film or something. If it’s the papers I’m thinking of I doubt a drop in on her unannounced would be welcome.”

Stark out of the hatch hovered saying, “She melted the metal, but the walls have grooves on them, like old records. Queenie screamed down here, or the Bolt guy did, his voice left the same imprint on a street according to Jarvis’ footage.”

 *.*.*

 All across the History magazine and the local papers was the story of the historical find Misique had helped by means of a rumored bribe of food cart funds from a good friend she spent the past two summers around to haul in a chunk of history. Weapons, chains and models of the ship itself to go with a holographic display of it inside the Viking museum in Norway even with little attention on that culture in the past since Prince Thor himself had come to Earth this was explosive. Ship to his uncle had wonder about what it could be. And Rhodey, as your friend and now treasured link to the military, that had dealt with a formerly unknown threat to these shores and those of allies and enemies alike had made his own trip to see the initially unimpressive ship.

Just a five foot strip barely was cleared to show metal unknown to this planet, scans of what you had hints of under the crust found him relaying it was not worth vying for custody of it. Perhaps in the future when your mind had perhaps made something of it, or in the very least they could offer aid of metal supplies to make it more pleasant to look at or stable to be transferred to a museum for display. Even if it would be a museum piece, those who had worked with you, or had looked into your past, knew how special your history was to you and wanted to help if they could after all you’d done for them and their safety, including the millions of civilians also in the dark. You never flinched and first thing shared news of a threat so aside from a friendship with Misique and Venom were beyond reproach in their eyes.

All the same your first day back in your high waisted overalls and shoulder bearing ribbed top were joined by a nice lace shrug you had found to cover your shoulders to meet the dress code of Midtown. Wedges were last to be hopped into on the trip down your flights of stairs to get going when a dig into something online had you close to being almost late for your first day. At the bottom of your stoop the town car there had you frozen in place to see the window roll down revealing Harry Osborn with a wide grin who said, “Your chariot awaits.”

“What are you doing?” you asked as he opened the door for you.

“I transferred to Midtown, can’t be late for the first day.” And softly you had to sigh and get into the car to just have the ride to hopefully get there quicker.

“How did your father manage to get you into Midtown?” you asked and when his mouth opened he gave you a playful glare when you asked, “Is there going to be a hall named after him when we get there?”

“No. I suppose every class could use a charity case. My name looks good on their rosters and they get to join the long list of teachers to be stunned at how miserable a student I am.” He said and you just blinked at him restraining your every urge to slap him.

“Why don’t you just get your GED then?” you managed to ask rather calmly but plainly parting his lips again. “If you don’t even plan on trying? These teachers helped me a great deal in applying for scholarships, my application to Columbia, they work very hard to help students you just have to apply yourself or you are wasting both of your time.”

Widely a grin spread across his face, and he said in a point of a finger your way, “You are right. And if any place is good enough for me to start applying myself Midtown is as good as any. Plus on this school’s roster I might be able to snag a spot on the football team.” He said with a confident grin.

“I think we managed a winning season last year by one game, doubt they wouldn’t take anyone who tried out willing to risk their brain for some head on collision entertainment.” The school came into view as he let out a chuckle to what you said.

“Apparently not much brainpower needed to run a company according to a few of my father’s employees.” He joked.

“Well Oscorp does have an alarmingly high mortality rate within workers there,” causing his brows to arch up at the matter of fact statement.

“You’ve looked into the mortality rate of employees of my father’s company?” he asked in shock making you turn your head to face him.

“He offered me a job after I graduate. Always inspect your future employers no matter how high up the food chain it is.”

“Ah,” he said and his brows furrowed in thought. “How hard is it to get a job?” he asked making your brow arch up, “I mean, you have a few, can’t be that hard.”

“Getting the job and keeping the job are two different things. I would say focus on your grades first or the time needed to improve there would only be wasted and worsen future grade point average as exhaustion and irritations of the work place set in.”

“Fair point. I will do my best to keep a C average at least to make you proud, improve from my usual D roster.”

His brow arched up at your head turning to look at him seriously, “B average minimum. C average won’t get you far unless you are aiming for a football scholarship to college. Most accept 2.5.”

“What’s yours?” he asked when the door was opened for you at the front entrance.

And you answered while climbing out, “4.2.” Clearly he could be heard letting out a scoff behind your back at the stunning leap of your GPA to his, and outside of the car he watched people take notice of you and then himself when he found his feet to follow you inside. “They start us in our homeroom for lockers and books.” You said, and in his show of the schedule he was given you aimed him the right way and were off yours.

Split apart for your home room you walked uncertain of why people down this hall seemed to be sending you looks of pity that at first you couldn’t understand. Not until you rounded the next corner and alongside other lost brilliant minds your parents’ pictures were mounted with a table topped with notes, flowers and other tokens around lantern concealed candles surrounding the joint memorial of the newest members as the school usually did when news of a fallen scientists came about.

Sharp and clear a breath caught in your throat and to Morita and Mark’s view you turned to the wall away from the memorial they promised to leave it at that to not make a scene of your pain. Tears clearly were blurring your vision.

And for a few trembling breaths you were seen nodding to their hushed reminders of support and assurances there was no announcement or anything for the school to aim lingering attention at this painful step you’d taken before you were able to compose yourself. To their comfort you assured them that you would be tolerant of this exposure and continued on to another pity filled room where your fellow home room sharing students tried and failed to pretend they hadn’t seen or heard about the news.

You just had to make it through the next few hours and after lunch you could head off to Columbia and it would be another day to the end of the week when you hoped everyone would have this out of their systems and it would be forgotten for the most part. Meanwhile you just had to ignore the dull burn of all your muscles from the sleepless night before.

 *.*.* Hours prior *.*.*

 Usually you were gone by now, that was what the man at the front desk said to the Super Soldier who watched the back end of your muscle tearing routine you had been repeating for hours now to not break any of their machines. Steve usually used this back room with ample room and mats for his own ten punching bag breaking routine when his dreams had taken over his ability to sleep. All he had lost haunted him as did the news his best friend was out there with a tie to the teen who was now brutally trembling in the back end of rotations of bicycle kicks and body crunches testing balance and muscle strain.

Crunched up with arms locked around your head, twisting side to side to meet each lifted knee bent from a straight hover over the ground fifty taps of each alternate pair of limbs. Next were followed by a drop flat almost touching the ground to a fold that had you bent almost completely flat with arms and legs up to reach fifty of those marked by twitches of your left brow when hovering flat again.

What he hoped to be the end soon after a drop flat was an arch up into a handstand off your back to drop in fifty push-ups in that pose.

At a 90 degree angle your body dropped to rest flat hovering over the ground in a mock plank pose to drop for fifty reps of those, right after followed by the shift of legs in alternating taps in lunge poses. One with the knee to your chest and the other stretched back. In rapid swaps to get thirty each.

Ended by a flat plant of both feet to leap up in a burpee to tap the pull-up bar over that stretch of mats he was told you had done a stunning 3000 pull-ups and side twists before breaking into this part of the routine.

Every single muscle bright and strained seen around your Razorback tank top and shorts until you grabbed the towel hanging over the pull-up bar. Under which you paused for a trembling exhale then lowered forward to plant your hands on the ground to ease off your sore feet and hunch down to a kneeling pose to help release the pull and burn in your thighs for what should have been a series of cool down stretches.

“I can make her leave, you usually want the place to yourself.” The man whispered to Steve making him shake his head.

“No need, I know her. I’ll see what’s up with her, she’s usually not like this. Someone probably bothered her.” Steve said leaving his bag on a bench he passed to reach the mat you were on he stopped at the end of and wet his lips as his eyes swept over your stunningly sweat free self that was slightly red and trembling. With tear filled eyes that had his mouth just about drop open for the look on your face none of the others could see. “Pluto,” he said and watched the mask shoot back over your face to an even worse stoic expression with those same earth shattering tearful eyes that lured him closer to crouch at your side.

“I was supposed to leave an hour ago. I know.” You said and let out a sharp breath to plant your hands at either side of your thighs to lift up on your clearly defined and dehydrated arms proving years of strength training usually hidden by a nice layer of fat to be less obvious these hours had shed away with rapid ease like a snap of fingers. Out in front of you your legs stretched and you bent forward to take hold of your toes to keep cooling down your burning self while you held back the emotional dam that kept days worth of tears from falling. Not in front of him you wouldn’t break, not with him and not here, not until you could be alone back in your place and then something online, anything at all could be found to keep your mind focused on anything but this and that night.

“What happened? Someone bother you?”

“My parents are dead,” you said dropping his jaw and urging him closer to your side where you flinched your side away from his try at a comforting touch that had him show you his palms as if you had nipped at him like a cornered animal. “I sent off the last of the paperwork to declare them legally dead earlier, the whole science community will know in the morning at news of their patens passing publicly to my name.”

“I’m so sorry. Why are you here?”

“Why are you here?” You asked flatly, stunning him at the clear answer to the question without actually answering it.

“I can’t sleep. Bad dreams. You should sleep.”

He said and you looked at him with a twinge of rage in those heartbroken eyes, “I was there, that night. If I sleep I’ll wake up my whole block.” You staggered out in broken whispers to the fall of two tears. “I’ll be out of your hair after I stretch my arms.”

“I’m gonna take you out to eat,” he practically demanded furrowing your brows and he deliberately pressed a finger into your bicep. “You need to eat after this. My treat, much as you like.” He said and you let out a breath and looked forward to lift the towel and wipe your face then dropped it back onto your lap to begin a series of arm stretches. Softly he let out a breath and said, “I was never good at this, usually Bucky was the one to cheer me up and I was in your shoes. What would he do when you had a bad day?”

“The man I know and your friend aren’t the same person,” you said opening his mouth again until you cut him off, “First off he doesn’t know his name is Bucky, or anything about you aside from your Captain persona.”

“What?” He asked softly.

You looked to him again sharply saying, “That’s what they do, they take us and erase us. But something about my face had him pick me out of the options brought to him. He knew my face, so no, Bucky didn’t comfort me how he would have with you. He trained me and kept an ear out.”

“He’s got amnesia?” Steve asked. “He took a nasty fall from the train, I guess that makes sense. But I’m sure he’s done more than you know.”

“Don’t bother with ruining your workout, surely you could make better use of your time than wasting time off figuring your way out to Russian airspace to find your Bucky.”

“Bucky protected you, taught you, I’m not leaving you like this. Where’s your bag?”

“Don’t have a gym bag,” you said finding your feet in a rapid hop that had him pop up as well to not be left behind.

“I know you didn’t come from where you live dressed like that this time of night and I’d have heard if you lived in Brooklyn.”

“I live in Queens and no one bothers me.” You said walking back to the door now you had been able to urge back your tears to at least clear your vision. Back at his bag he lifted it and his coat, that once at the front door he slung around the back of your shoulders to drape over your chest making you say, “This means nothing I know loaning a coat means you’re going steady back in your era,” and he scoffed.

“I’m at least 80 years older than you. No thank you little Madam. I am covering you from the unsavory glances this time of day.”

And up at him when the door closed behind you you looked saying emotionlessly, “At least I’m not wearing shirts so tight you can see my nipples 24/7 like you, Captain save the girl.” Making him scoff again.

“My shirts are not that tight.” He said slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Might as well paint your torso, I can find your arteries through that cotton, Cap.”

Before he knew it he said in a try to change the subject off his anatomy and clothes, “I suppose the one thing you could say came from the Great War was my old man died.”

That had you glance up at him and ask at his outlandish statement, “The one good thing?”

“Course it meant my Mom had to work spare shifts but he was a no good lush of a brute. Used to leave us bloody and starving while he drank away all our problems and those of half the block seemed like.” He paused and said, “She worked hard and I did my best to help out while I could and worked on some art classes too hoping to make some higher scratch to let her have weekends off again. Even had a few sketches in the Times and Post.” He said with a solemn stare he blinked away then looked at you as you spoke again.

“TB,”

“Ya. She worked in the TB ward, caught that. Nasty way to go.” He said with a deep heave of a sigh. “Have meds for it now, she helped with that, in a small way. But each Nurse they lost till they got the meds helped in their own way, so she’d be proud. I’m sure your parents know you work hard, what I mean. What’d they do?”

“Geneticists,” you answered then said, “Tried everything to have me. Then it kicked my mother’s condition into overdrive,” you said parting his lips in a look your way at a kid who might have had a rough shake growing up as he had at home. “She was on a ventilator last chunk I had with her. Dad was working for a cure. Not very many working on degenerative diseases that aren’t cash cows.”

“I have to ask, if Buck didn’t know who he was then what’d you talk about all those years he taught you?”

“What he was told to teach me, and stories, mythologies, fables, tall tales.”

“And you knew who he was?”

“Looked him up after I got to Queens.”

“Ah,” he said and his brows furrowed again. “What’s your favorite story?” He asked looking you over in a pause at a street corner where he eased between you and another nighttime wanderer, who was also waiting in the light you had seen often who shook off the gesture by the person he never saw you with.

“What’s your favorite story?” He asked again and you paused trying to think through the buzzing chatter of your bees each in their own try to help distract you from this bleeding pain.

“I, I can’t think of any stories right now.” You said and he nodded.

“Fair enough,” he said. Then added, “Been reading up on some things online. Might be a bit too old for you but you read the Great Gatsby?”

“Ya, classic for school.”

“They have a new film on it apparently a friend said they’d take me to see. Not sure if I like it or not yet. But met Hemmingway during the war and he mentioned his friend Fitzgerald who wrote it. Had some good stories to share over drinks, promised to read it, now I got the chance.” Unable to help it the corner of your mouth quirked up making him ask, “What?”

“It’s a bit insensitive,” you said shaking your head.

“You got some leeway it’s a bad day kid.”

“I guess you couldn’t have ended up farther alike to Hemmingway,”

“How so?” He asked and took the first step with you off the curb when the light turned colors.

“Well he survived several plane crashes, and you, just the one.”

“He what?” He asked mid stunned chuckle.

“Read up on Hemmingway he seemed damn near unkillable for a time there. Plane crashes on top of several near death experiences including I think he got shot a few times after the war. Adds to his whole appeal and his mentality of what he wrote. He was the last of their group alive I believe. Outlived Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda who died of an overdose I believe, loved her something wild how it’s told was never the same. Then Dali after him.”

“Never did like those large forehead paintings he did.” He but in.

“He was the last man standing, depression and melancholy of war wounds really seeped into his whole narrative in the page. He’s one of the greats same as his buddies.”

He paused and said, “I just can’t get over the whole schtick of stealing identities and being someone you aren’t,”

“Bit hypocritical,” you but in making him scoff and turn with you to walk to the end of the wall outside the 24 hour diner to the door there.

“To make someone love you, is what I meant.”

“You wanted to make America love you,” you said dropping his mouth open again.

“I did not! I wanted to fight in the war same as anyone else!”

“So the whole explosive regeneration of your body and new persona was just a bonus?”

He locked his eyes on you with a brow that arched up, “I don’t think you’re old enough to understand.”

“Which part am I missing? You’re still the main propaganda man eighty years later, must get something out of it.”

“A paycheck, how else am I supposed to earn a living in this economy?” He asked and you let out a half hearted chuckle rolling your eyes. “What is that,” he rolled his eyes dramatically at you making you arch a brow up at him in the stand off outside the door puzzling the waitresses on shift inside who had grouped up. Seeing him coming hopefully for them to be able to talk to him even if he had a small female companion with what looked to be his jacket on her.

“I have four jobs in the summertime, two while I go to school, there are jobs, surely you could find one not related to lying about you obeying the laws of the road before you hit the ice.”

“I will have you know-,”

“Did you have a car before you were in the military?”

“No!”

“Rest my case.”

“No one could afford a car on my block back then!” He said as you opened the door he followed you through. “Except for the McGees but they lifted those-,” he paused seeing the cops inside on a coffee and lunch break, making him say in a hunch to whisper to you so he wouldn’t get those deceased former neighbors of his in trouble, “Lifted them off a ferry to sell for parts later.”

And back at him you whispered, “You do know they don’t convict dead people right?”

“Not dead yet, not Gerry,”

And at the side of the cops you asked, “If I was to report a grand theft auto from the 1930’s would you be able to convict?” You said and they both let out a matching pair of chuckles.

“No, who do you know from the 30’s out jacking cars?” In a shrug from you they both chuckled and turned back to their lunch after your look up at the Captain who thanked the pair and guided you to a booth far away from them in the corner.

“Not funny,” he said and you let out a huff seeing the waitresses in a scuffle over the menus to see who would wait on you both with one who snuck around the back of the counter to steal the right with a widening grin the closer she got.

“There’s a statute of limitations, and bias laws to protect immigrants and also supposed statutes to keep cops from using the law to their own benefit.”

“Oh like that ever stopped them before.” He said callously then smiled at the woman who handed over the menus and introduced herself asking what Cap and his apparent sister were doing out at this hour apparently striving to shake her claim on him.

“Nipples,” you whispered making him scoff in her path back to the kitchen with your drink orders.

“No one cares about my nipples,” he whispered back in a lean over the table as you raised your menu to open it in search of what you wanted.

“I’m trying to think of an era appropriate term from your childhood for people who wore shirts that tight,” you said making him purse his lips and lay his arms on his menu a moment to look out the window at this continued topic. “Hussy,” you said making him gasp and look at you. “Ya that sounds about right.”

“It is bad enough I have to hear from Stark how I have ‘America’s Ass’ I do not have to talk about my nipples with you.”

“Well it would make sense he talks about your ass he inherited the right,” his lips parted again then closed in his turn to smile at the waitress who was coming back with your shakes. “His daddy did give you that ass after all,” making him almost choke on the air filling his lungs at his sharp inhale. And for all his intention to distract you from your pain while that waitress was off giving your orders to the cook the other two came to sit down on chairs they pulled over.

Determined to join the booth where they remained adamantly through the rest of the meal not allowing you to get a word in even if you wanted to while they focused all their attentions on the Great Depression era beefcake in front of them. A distraction on his part you were glad for. Deeply bitten by frost all these years later the air that night still engulfed you with little change of the intensity of the chill even against faint flickers of flames that had engulfed your home; the last memory a haunting shadow of your former self. Inside your head the bees of your hive and those in your hair took turns choosing things to help scoot that image and pain aside even for moments that would have your eyes shift ever so slightly over your plate to each turn taken.

He knew that look. Behind the mask deep in those eyes the gaze of a dismantled last man standing he encountered ample times back in the war. Knowing what they had faced and the ghosts of his own dreams all he could wonder was what you had seen to scar you so deeply. What happened to force that mask and this game of cat and mouse for why you wouldn’t let him help you. He just had to get away from these crowding women to do that. What he wouldn’t admit even to himself was the reasoning behind the desire to help you, so that the link to his friend was always there. If you broke and had to be sent away then there was no chance of new clues. So he had to ensure you stayed just shy of breaking, even just a step if possible.

Once paid however around your hand his folded to guide you and himself away from the crowd of women until he was on the other side of the door and all he could do was look down at you. “I warned you about your hussy shirt.”

“Just because you are having a bad day don’t think you can flirt your way out of it,” he said making your brows furrow in his first step to show you back to the gym, “I’ll give you a lift home.”

“This is flirting to you?” you asked and he looked back at you. “Discussion of attire does not equate flirting in my book. And trust me with my rocky boat of a past if I tried at a man over 70 years my senior do consider that a cry for help and lock me away somewhere.”

“I will try not to be flattered by that glaring compliment.”

“Oh don’t get touchy I’m not even 17 yet you can’t possibly be head over heels for me after being refused a conversation with me by three very determined older women.” At the corner he tapped the button for the crosswalk and looked down at you. “I am not exactly known for my scintillating conversation and there are no, is it moonbeams? All those 40’s songs like to use, in my eyes.”

“See, this, this is not happening.” He said waving a finger between you.

“Did they slip you something, that’s just what I’m saying, trust me, I am the last one you want to be using that little smirk look you use to get your way on. For all you know you’ve beamed me with your shield before and I could have a hostile grudge just seething under the surface for all you know for lack of an apology.”

That had him scoff, “I don’t throw my shield at civilians.” He said then added, “And I don’t make faces to get my way.”

“Oh come on you’re like a puppy begging for scraps and you know it. That face is not involuntary, probably something carried over from your tiny days.”

“I was not tiny,”

“Sickly then,” you said and he looked back down at you when you started to walk again at the signal to cross the street. “Look, you’re the one who grew up in eugenics era you’ve heard the terms you wanted to be all friendly because of my news even though I don’t need saving and I’m trying to bridge the terminology gap.”

“I understand you just fine, and I was not tiny.”

“Barely an inch taller than me, I’ll pass that on my toes or fluffing up my hair,” you said in another glance at his hand that fidgeted more around yours.

“Funny, if that’s tiny then you are.”

“Everyone calls me tiny what planet are you on, I had a six inch growth spurt summer before last and I’m still tiny, so if I say you were tiny, it is so, because I am and I say so, so there neh.”

“Did you just ‘so there neh’ me?”

“What are you gonna do about it? Smirk at me to make me take it back?” you challenged making him roll his eyes and shake his head.

“Are you always this confrontational? Baseline for you?”

“I prefer occasionally petty and realistic. I am a magnet for chaos and accept little friction in my relationships, friendly or otherwise. How about you, always this cocky?”

“I am not cocky.” He retorted.

“Are too. But you’re in your head how can you know how you come off.”

“I am not cocky,” he argued back as you passed the gym making one of the guys outside chuckle to himself and chime in, “Keep telling yourself that Peter Pan,” making Steve scoff at him.

“Told you. Not always, but you have your moments.”

“You really must be the life of parties.”

“I mean,” you said making him look at you again partially regretting his tone in the crackle of your voice and glance away, “I dance, other than that I don’t get asked to parties. Usually have to work, or my friends’ parents wanted boys only at their houses.”

“Boys only?”

“Apparently boys are insatiable predators, can’t even show my shoulders in school on dress code or someone might get a tingle then the worst will tear out of them due to my harlotess ways of daring to flash a shoulder.” That had him stop completely and you said, “Day I enrolled at college they handed out a welcome package to me and the other females with pepper spray and a rape whistle. I live alone apparently I give an impression of looseness on reputation off that fact alone. But most of my friends got accepted to colleges across the country, so only a couple left.”

“Why are you short tempered with me? Because I got years with Bucky between your invisible friend Chickadee’s visits with Stark before he met you?”

“My locket and rings are all I have to remind me daily I didn’t imagine my past and parents. Gifted locket from the Goddess Frigg and rings forged of ore from conquests in England out of a bloodline whose women drove men to silence on mention of their names, these are no simple trinkets someone would just hand to someone else.” Locked in silence he stood with confirmation of the painful jab he’d given you while hunting for clues. A fellow orphan with few reminders of a distant past and home gone without a trace. And there to calm his own pain he had gone and trampled over your feelings.

“I apologize. SHIELD wasn’t able to find much from my old apartment to keep in storage for me. Bit of old negatives from my last birthday before I buried my mother.”

“Where are you leading me to?”

That turned his head to point at his motorcycle, “You aren’t afraid of bikes, are you?”

“I have a motorcycle, car and pilots license.”

“Why?” was all he could ask.

“Why not? I plan for chaos.” When he didn’t look away you asked, “Do you need me to drive?”

“No one drives my bike but me,” he said turning to guide you closer where he finally realized your hand still trapped in his that he let go of to swing a leg over his bike he raised off the stand and looked back at you. Up off the ground you lifted a foot to ease down the propped up foot stand urging him to twist and lower the other one, “Sorry,” then turned to the feel of a hand on his shoulder. Stepping over the seat you straddled the pitiful excuse of a rock like leather cushion then took hold of the bottom of the bag on his back as he fired up the engine. Over his shoulder you pointed him the right way until he kept the bike upright outside your building so you could climb off. With ease you did and offered him his jacket you had removed before he’d stopped that he pinned under part of one of his thighs against his groin unable to add it with his bag on his back.

“I’ll pay you back for the meal.”

“You don’t owe me a thing.”

“Well, bout time for my turn at the hot water,” all you did was turn to head inside leaving him lost for what to say.

Only to have him call out, “Get some sleep.”

“You first,” you fired back closing the heavy front door behind you to vanish from his sight just leaving him to head back to the gym while you refused to sleep.

 *.*.* Current time *.*.*

 Focus on securing a locker, books and following through the first half of your classes for the first day schedule of the split day lineup was simple to keep your mind busy at least until lunch time.

Out of the faces lost in the crowd entering the cafeteria you entered before realizing that you forgot to pack your lunch you looked around and then dug into your pocket to see how much cash you had to spare. Out of the choices you went to join the line for the sub shop and exited with two and a pair of small chip bags to go with your fruit juice you hoped could help this mood go away that had worsened by not eating your usual between class snacks.

Ricky at the usual table smiled when he saw you approach him and his fellow band mates who had joined the table saying, “There you are. You’re never late.”

“Forgot my lunch,” you said taking up the seat he had saved for you at his side. “Ran late in the gym and it just threw my whole schedule off.”

“Happens,” he said in a chuckle watching you start to settle your lunch in front of you once your bag was rested across your lap. Ignoring the silent inspecting stares of his friends new to eating with you, awkward on the new pictures posted up today he continued, “Been a nice day so far, classes seem to be better than what I anticipated and can’t wait to see how tryouts today go.”

Noticing Harry Osborn with his own bought lunch lock his eyes on you he said, “Incoming,” turning your head to the billionaire’s son who headed straight for the empty spot at your side, not showing the trouble he felt brewing in his belly about the news of the parents of his presumed only friend in school. You had never wanted to talk about your parents aside from random mentions of them, and of course he nonstop knew he ranted about his own father while you were harboring this storm alone leaving him feeling even more a terrible friend.

“There you are. Got stuck in a clarification on the assignment order to this cabinet thing my Biology teacher wants for our labs.” He said making you look him over mid chew of your bite of sandwich. “The sub shop good? Figured I should get pizza, last hoorah before weight training kicks in for football tryouts end of the week.”

After you swallowed you said, “Seems suitable, forgot my lunch this morning, ran late. Normally bring my own.”

“Hmm,” he said opening the lid of the top of three mini pizzas to go with his breadsticks and marinara dip. “That due to the news?” he asked and you could feel Ricky bristle up at your side, “Your boat thing you found?” he asked lifting a slice for a pitiful shift of the topic away from what might hurt your feelings worse than they already felt.

“Ran long at the gym, then Captain America sort of commandeered my meal after. What I get for picking a place out in Brooklyn near his old stomping grounds.”

Ricky said, “You ask him about driver’s ed video he made?” making you giggle and pause a try to take another bite of your food mid notice of Peter Parker and Ned entering the table area with trays in hand. Both who stopped and stared at your quick wave their way turning Harry’s eyes to them.

“No one on his block could afford a car, besides this family who used to steal them off ferries, unfortunately we got swarmed by waitresses trying to pick him up due to his painted on clothes and that smirk he swears he doesn’t have.”

“Oh he didn’t,” Ricky exclaimed as you took another bite and nodded making him laugh, “So typical.”

Timidly Ned and Peter made their way to the remaining empty table across from yours where the latter said, “Hey Pluto.”

“Hey,” you gestured between him, Ned and Peter, “Ned and Peter are trying out for the marching band,” lighting up Ricky and the others’ faces luring curious grins across the duo’s faces in response as they got to sharing what instruments they played and how the upper classmen had taken to the instructors for various sections.

Ricky in a notice of Harry quietly stealing another look at your slightly sunken expression mid focus on the meal asked him, “You trying out for the band too?”

“No, just football actually. Not the best but never really got a shot to see what I can make of myself. Boarding schools don’t offer much chance for rougher sports, and it’ll help Pluto to keep an eye on my progress as we travel to games and such. Promised to put all my effort into turning my grades around and just in time too, apparently there’s academic probation for team members who don’t keep up in class.”

He looked to you again and between bites you said, “You should do it for you, started my grade average based on my scholarship requirements but now it’s all for me to see how I can keep it up.”

“You have a scholarship here too, must be hard to keep up with all the rules,” one of the guys to Ricky’s left said gaining a head shake from you.

“Mostly the same rules,” you said then took another bite to focus on your meal as the conversation grew around you to the end of the meal that led you to the final class you had in Midtown.

Pt 27

@jesevans, @lilith15000, @devilishminx328, @theincaprincess​, @jiminapickle

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

3.2.24 Saturday

3:13 am

Still, have windblow and I feel bitterish...

9:50 am

I forgot to share here angels Alorica was calling me yesterday.... I'm so scared for my LIFE, like what I posted as I analyzed the call centers companies here in the Philippines, they offered a lot and different kinds of surprises...I'm so fucking scared coz they sent me twice or thrice the welcoming bonus load of 300 pesoses, like what I said though I needed money but I felt something was not right that could lead to a negative situation....I have FEAR on Alorica, I'm so scared.

I needed a job as soon as possible....I'm fucking not relax, I keep on reviewing English that I always forgot some of the rules of Subject- Verb-Agreement, basics but confusing but on English conversation we don't actually point it out. You know what I mean angels? We are facing money trouble these days and I'm no longer a kid, my life is no longer a teenager as much as I wanted to go back....I don't know, we have financial tight budgeting. I do feel intimidated on other people and most specially on younger souls coz in reality my young moment has passed me by already and I wasn't that happy since this windblow came into me.... I lost my xfactor, I lost my identity some copied me, some wanted to be with me just to copy me and learned my entire persona and then they will remove me. I observed that most specially some wicked souls in Cavite, not all but some.... I feel hurt about it!!!

10:55 am

Will have my 2nd cup of coffee today... Hmm...So sad,our TV here is damaged angels... So, we are still waiting for fundings, our TV here is originally "Sharp" and it sadden me to hear yesterday that Uncle DD was working out his "home credit" to be able to get a 50 inches TV here now for nana... But it sadden me we can no longer get the one of the best brands way back but I'm open to have the latest but I do TRUST and BELIEVE that there are some good brands that we can TRUST to have...Except that fucking "Astron"! I admire CoCo Martin as an artist here in the Philippines but I started to hate him when his rice cooker that he modelled was weird...Remember angels? I posted here the "Astron"rice cooker the cover of the rice is not fitted on the body which is weird! Rice cooker means you can keep the rice warm at all times but without being toasted or not to the point that you burnt the rice underneath that we are experiencing now in "Astron".

It was weird if I saw Prince Harry yesterday or just the same face??? Did we freeze??? Huh?

If that was "Prince Harry" I owe him curtsy...

Even if having just the same face, a very handsome "a handsome Harry"... Harry,Harry...

11:34 am

Be careful some DJ's and Church of Christ are plastics.... DJ's on Eagle FM...I'm a person or I'm Human... I'm just being real...

There are so many plastics everywhere... Double check is not bad at all...

Does Mitch gave me a "simple battery"???

2:19 pm

I still have windblow....Potang inah just the basics at least you know the computer terminologies... I'm reading the website of "Amazon".... The particular are for the tech support... But I can be one, in a way...

I feel really jealous and I feel invalid coz of red... Please,get out of my hair and be responsible coz we are poorish these days...

I don't wanna feel that I'm stupid or I'm the weakest even here in Cavite, get out of my hair as well but be responsible as well... For what you did since 2007? Guilty or not guilty??

3:14 pm

I feel bitterish on Amazon site no attaching of resume, you just need to post your number and address and mail address and that's it!

I will wait for eperformax... I feel so inavlid... I need a job and money...The same thing post your name, number and email and that's it!

Did Mitch give me a "simple battery?

I wanted to leave Cavite and be Manila girl, I feel so invalid here in Cavite...

3:28 pm

I feel bitterish... It is so good to create memories here but I still want a botox and a nose perfection...

4:13 pm

I still have windblow....Unfair for 17 years they made me their supporters for nothing. There are some doctors who can't go up use me or over-competitive that they wanted to have a "double-platinum" in this world.

That they wanted to prove that they are doctors already and being an artist is just their 2nd achievement, this is for both on and off the screen....Guilty or not guilty?

A conspiracy for me and a plan for someone or for herself??? Or just their group???

5:30 pm

I still have windblow... I think, I'm having headache....I can't start my diet to flatten my tummy, I'm a single person and I have no career... I feel super fat and ugly... My timeline as a woman is expired already. I feel super self-pity... What will happen to me? My vanity,my travels and John's dog show with me???

I really wanna do a nose perfection, can someone accept me on that? I want vanity...

8:52 pm

This Uncle DD is somehow insensitive why did they put their car inside our garage though I know that is the proper way here... But the washed clothes are there in the garage... Coz they have their own laundry area inside their new house... Our dalagang Pilipinas,gets?

My nana is keep on reacting on me negatively that I should put her washed blankets in the garage, where will I put here??? The car of Uncle DD and Aunt Karen are inside the garage.

Uncle Jun is not cleaning the floor mat of John if I will not ask him a favour, he is switching his personality... Or if I can't pay him a lotion or any toiletries, I don't wanna ask him anymore to clean John's floormat... Gets the scenarios angels???

I feel tired coz I cooked this dinner but lunch was being managed by nana... Then, I cleaned John's floormat manually coz I have to do it, I love my son-dog so much... I need to keep a lysol and sprays, I need money for those...

I wanna better life with someone, someone sensitive. Someone who can accept my wants of doing vanity and keeping John and I really wanna have more dogs but I want an uphill or upper life. I still wanna do nose perfection...

9:23 pm

I posted here that I'm having headache around 5:30 pm but I feel that someone is putting a spell on me or budolling or a spell... I feel weird I feel like I'm floating...

My S-bones are in pain again that I need to strech or exercise... I feel bitterish in life... I wanna leave Cavite... I wanna find a soulmate for me... Someone cute or handsome, taller than me and stable enough to lift me up... I wanna have yaya, angels... I badly need a HUG!

[subwaysurf45]

Love You to the Moon and Back

summary: Bucky notices you’re feeling down after a bad injury, he does his best to help.

words:  3817

warning: depressive episode, doctors, mainly fluff!

pairing: Bucky x Reader 

Masterlist!

Bucky could tell you were getting bad again. 

And it hurt him to see you like this but it always happened after a big mission, your job was traumatizing and it took a toll on all of you. Bucky knew he had his days but he also knew when you finally let yourself slip it was really bad. 

You were a very headstrong person, you didn’t like letting people see your weaknesses or just you being hurt in general. So it sucked when you had broken your shin and witnessed a school of kids get blown up by a bomb, maybe sucked is an understatement but it was what you always said. 

You had pretended to be a teacher because there was supposed to be a hit on most teachers at a private school, so when the school blew up before everyone was out of the building- including you -it left the memories very crystal clear. There was no way of saving everyone so you saved yourself, and the feeling of selfishness had never been more apparent than right now. You were lying in bed with a cast on your left leg, your left leg was on top of the duvet while the other leg was under. 

A tank top and shorts was all you wore even though you were cold. A pillow was placed between your legs down by your shins to keep the injured one elevated, Bucky had stuck it there the last time he came in to check on you. 

Speaking of Bucky, he walked into your shared room in the compound. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky cooed as he gently opened and closed the door without making any sound, you had become hyper-aware to sound and light so a loud noise or a flash of a camera could send you into a state of hysterics. Bucky sat himself at the edge of the bed at around your midsection, you were lying in the middle and facing him. You barely said hello, all you could muster was a groan that had the same rhythm as the word hello. “How’s my girl doing?” Bucky rubbed your thigh very carefully. 

It was so obviously a rhetorical question, you were absolutely shit and he knew it. You both just stared at each other and Bucky seemed to get the message, he nodded and looked down. The room was so dark from the lights being off and the curtains being pulled you barely registered that Bucky had a plate of cheese, apple slices, and crackers. Bucky saw you turn your nose up and he knew you would, you had been like this for what felt like weeks. 

“You have your two appointments today, you wanna use the crutches or the wheelchair?” Bucky asked as he gently caressed your thigh, a little hum came after a few sections to clarify this wasn’t rhetorical. 

“I don’t know,” you mumbled into your pillow. 

“Okay…” Bucky held onto the last syllable, he glanced over to the wheelchair and crutches. “How about you have a little snack and then when you got food- and I’ll get water -you can make your choice. You also know you can switch and I’ll be glad to grab it for you, alright?” he did a few quick pats on your thigh before setting the plate down on the bedside table, he grunted as he stood up and stuck his arms slowly beneath you. All Bucky did was sit you upright to eat, you had gotten better at eating and now didn’t need motivation to eat but just a little push at the beginning to keep going after the first bite. Bucky also found if he ate a few pieces from the plate you’d be more inclined to eat the rest. 

“Thanks,” your voice was low and barely audible. 

“No need, pretty lady,” Bucky got right beside you and grabbed the plate, he placed it between you and let you choose the first piece. “So, you’re at the doctor at two and then Doc at three-ten, do you wanna nap between for a little or for a while after?” he just took a cracker and plopped it into his mouth. 

“No, no nap between, I wanna sit outside Doc’s office like before to make sure I’m not late.” You mumbled and stacked a piece of cheese on an apple slice. Doc was your therapist that was assigned to you a little while before your injury, Bucky wasn’t the only one who got nightmares and manic episodes; you probably got them more. Bucky knew he couldn’t go into your therapy meeting, he could physically go in but it went against his morals, this was your time to be alone and completely vulnerable to a human that you only see one or twice a week, he didn’t want you to sugar coat anything just because he wa sitting there. 

Bucky nodded and hummed before pulling the notebook out of the bedside table’s drawer, your combat backpack which you used for everything between missions and a picnic in the park was curled over itself in the corner of your room. Bucky picked it up and headed back to bed to let it rest there as he packed. He did this when you weren’t injured, Bucky had sadly realized your memory was a little shot from the amount of bootleg brainwashing and head injuries. You’d constantly forget about appointments or missions, or even the date. 

“Baby, I told you, your birthday is today, that’s why I got flowers.” Bucky said and pointed to the counter with the bright flowers on it. 

“No…” you rubbed the front of your head. “My birthday isn’t today, I forget the day- but it’s not today, I swear.” 

He slid in your journal that you used to write down lists and memories, you had used a guitar pick as your bookmark even though you can’t play anymore. Sometimes when you’d show up to a therapy session you’d forget what you wanted to say, it hurt him when he’d walk you there and you’d be saying the list of things under your breath with your eyes closed. Nightmare, mom, picking my nails, ankle, nightmare, sand, flowers. 

“We gotta go soon, anyways, wanna get ready for the day?” Bucky softly asked, there was no nice way of telling your loved one they needed to shower. 

“Sure,” you looked down at the plate and grabbed the last of it before getting up, the apple and cheese was just curled in the palm of your hand, as you walked over you shoved it all into your mouth because you knew you had to shower and you didn’t like soggy cheese. 

“I’ll keep packing your bag, and I’ll fill a water bottle for you.” Bucky had been your human crutch as you walked to the bathroom, you had an itch down in your cast that was bugging you. 

Tony had wanted to add tech to the shower to help you stand because putting pressure on your left leg hurt after three minutes and seven seconds- not that you were timing to see how long you could go without collapsing. You had said no to tech and just asked for a bar, Bucky even thought it would be cool but it was all up to you. 

Bucky helped you slip out of your clothes before leaving you be, he knew he would have to check on you periodically because you were too stubborn to ask for help if you had fallen or couldn’t get in the shower. You gripped onto the metal bar and helped yourself slip in, you turned the water on right away. 

You liked warm, long showers. You just let the water hit your skin as you stood in front of the shower head, the water pressure was high so you let the bullets hit your face when your eyes were closed. Your hair got wet as you stood there, you reached for the bottle of shampoo and expected it to be where it always was. The was getting into your eyes and when you squinted to see where the bottle was everything was double, as you reached for the bottle you had actually reached for the fake double and knocked the bottle off the ledge. A loud thump rang through the bathroom and it sounded like a bomb. 

There was one second of silence before you heard scrambling from outside the bathroom door, all at once you could see the door swing open by its shadow through the curtain. The curtain was pulled back so hard a couple of ringlets holding it up were ripped off. 

“Baby?” Bucky yelled before he registered you were standing upright. “What?” he breathed heavily, he was completely expecting you to be passed out on the floor with a cracked skull. 

“Shampoo bottle,” you said meekly. 

“Oh, thank god…” Bucky sighed to himself as he reached down to pick it up. “Are you hurt at all, did you fall?” He placed the bottle back on the ledge which made him reach across your naked body, on his way back his hand touched your shoulder then went to cup your cheek and move your head to look at him. 

“I’m all good, babe.” You smiled, an exhausting smile. 

“Alright, back-is-packed, finish up and I'll help you over to physio, alright?” Bucky closed the curtain to give privacy but waited for a verbal answer. 

“Perfect, thank you.” You grabbed the bottle again, your heart ached for him to be in the shower with you, it was something you did all the time before you were injured. 

“Don’t thank me, pretty lady.” Bucky reached for the door and opened it, before he could walk out, your voice quietly called his name, he could barely hear it over the water in the shower. “Yes?” he replied with the same softness. 

“Stay here with me, please.” the ‘please’ came after a beat, and extra plea. 

“Always,” Bucky sat on the toilet seat and gave the company you needed as you tried to stick your finger down your cast to itch that one spot on your leg. 

*****

Soon enough you were sat in the physio room, Bucky was off to the side with paper work in his lap and a binder in your backpack he packed for you. You liked the moral support when you were here because you never really had the best experience with doctors, Bucky would act like he wasn’t even there. That was a good thing, he did need to be the hovering boyfriend all the time because that can get tiring for both parties. He’d look up and listen to the doctor near the end, Bucky would write down the exercises and when to do them so he could gently remind you later. 

“Alright, you’re gonna get a new cast next week,” the doctor smiled at you, when you didn’t pick up on the excitement the doctor’s smile faded. “That means three quarters done!” Bucky had looked up and smiled, even clapped a couple times. 

“Then I have to learn how to walk again,” that was an exaggeration but it didn’t feel like one. 

The doctor gave a knowing look, “why do I feel like you’re already walking without the crutches?” You didn’t say anything because it was true. 

Your leg was examined and x-rayed, Bucky held onto your necklace as you went in. Your mind faded in and out as the doctor spewed ‘doctor stuff’ at you, you just didn’t have the care to listen; but Bucky did. He’s the type of guy to take notes and research later. 

Bucky would look over and see you looking at the floor, not even paying attention. He knew he couldn't get mad at you, you both dealt with injury very similarly. But something about seeing you shut down entirely made his heart ache, he wanted to reach out and lift the corners of your lips up into a smile because they seemed like they were being weighed down, he couldn’t remember the last time you smiled and real smile. He hadn’t been going on mission to keep you company, but now he knew his most important mission.

He walked you over to your therapy session that was still in the building, your Doc would come to the Avenger tower. He’d walk you right to the door of some random debrief room and kiss you goodbye. Bucky would hold your shoulders and gently rub your arms to hype you up before going in, he gave his little speech and said the same thing after. 

“You know I love you, and I know it’s hard.” he’d then kiss your cheeks and forehead. “I’ll be right here when you’re done, don’t even sweat it, pretty lady.” He then wouldn’t leave until the door closed and he heard muffled voices. 

The tower was right in the heart of the city, everything he needed was right there and a walking distance away. He slipped on a long sleeve and his gloves, he knew you took the backpack but you also had reusable bags, he took a few and headed out into the summer heat, it wasn’t humid today which was great but it wasn’t cold either. The tote bag was slung over his shoulder, all that was in it right now as a list. 

flowers 

chocolate

card

stuffed animal 

To call Bucky a romantic would seem weird to someone who only knew of him from the news or a museum, you knew him as a total hopeless romantic. Even in the 40’s, Bucky was the type of person to keep their walls up until he really got to know and trust you. It would normally be one little thing that would allow him to truly be himself around someone, he let his guard down that day you were walking to the restaurant he made a reservation at, Bucky placed himself so that arm or hand you’d hold would be his right but when you caught on you walk around him and looped both arms around his left, metal arm. After that, he was goner. 

He’d leave little sticky notes everywhere, a blue square paper in the coffee mug that read: ‘make sure you only drink one cup!’ or another on your shampoo bottle: ‘you look great naked ;)’. Bucky knew the little things mattered to you and vice versa, he knew that grand gestures didn’t mean anything without a little kiss that came before. 

The flower shop smelt great, Bucky didn’t know much about plants but he knew which ones you’d like. He was thinking of putting one on each bedside so whenever you’re lying in bed- which was a lot -you could look at some pretty flowers. They were a nice shade of purple and the stems were not too long, Bucky bought them and put them gently in his tote bag before heading over two stores to the grocery store you always shop at.

He was envyus of your clean eating, you’d eat what you want but you’d shop at fermer’s markets and organic stores. Bucky didn’t know it made a difference. He went to the frozen section and found chocolate covered strawberries. Bucky picked up a little pack of eight and headed to the front. There were also flowers there but they didn’t look nearly as nice. All he wanted was a very simple cute card with a blank inside, they were easy to find. It was cream coloured with a little sketch of a fuzzy, brown teddy bear holding a yellow balloon. All it said in dainty cursive at the top was: “look at you go!” Bucky knew this was perfect. Near the cards were little toys and stuffed animals. He found a bear that looked eerily similar to the one on the card but without the balloon. 

As he walked into the Avenger’s tower the bag was full and he had enough time to spare to set things up. Bucky headed to the rooms and made the bed, he changed the sheets as well because he knew you liked them when they were crisp. The teddy sat right in the middle with the card next to it. Bucky had written a little note that covered the entire right side of the card. He got a bowl from the kitchen and filled it with ice, he also found that white wine you liked and stuck it on there with the strawberries just to keep them cool but not melted. 

Bucky glanced at his watch and felt almost giddy as he realized it was time to head over to the conference room, he had to work on not giving it away when he’d first see you with his wide smile. The walk to the room was quick because of how fast Bucky was walking, he turned the corners sharp and almost jogged down the hall down the meeting rooms. He only stood there for about three seconds before the door slowly opened, Doc had opened the door and helped you out. Bucky’s smile turned into complete worry when you walked out holding a tissue to your nose, your eyes were red and puffy. Bucky also noticed that your fingernails were red and bleeding, that was one habit you were currently trying to break. 

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked in quiet disbelief, his eyebrows almost touching. 

Doc gave a curt nod, “we talked about a lot of things,” her answers were always so vague. 

You sniffled and waited for Doc to leave down the hall, Bucky was still looking at you. His hands held your shoulders and gently massaged the answer out of you. 

“It was a good cry, I needed that.” you sighed from exhaustion. 

A little piece of Bucky’s heart broke, if you needed to have a good cry then you could have told him, he would’ve listened. Bucky started to go back and see where it went wrong, if he was too overbearing and if this whole afternoon he had planned was created at a very wrong time. He wanted to ask what he did wrong but what came out was different. “Well that’s good to hear, I know Doc is good at that- helping you out.” His words were true but something about the delivery made it seem uneasy. 

“I just-” you looked to the ceiling and hoped to find the words you needed written there. “I like flushing it all out to her because I won’t see her for a week and I don’t need to keep up with what I’m feeling. I always cry to you but Doc is just really good at explaining how I feel, you’re there to validate it and make me feel soothed.” You held his left hand as you both walked down the hallway. “I feel lighter, like, I feel better.”

“That’s always good, sweetheart,” Bucky made sure you were putting weight on him because you didn’t bring your crutches but you really should have. “I have a little treat for you,” He turned to face you when you both stood at his door, Bucky kept his hand on the door handle. “I know it’s been a rough few weeks but I hope you know I love you all the same, and all I see is my strong, beautiful girlfriend.” Bucky saw your confused face, as he opened the door to reveal a dim lit room with flowers, wine and a teddy your eye welled up with tears again. 

You gasped and put your hands on your chest, “for me?” your voice shook as you walked in, you peered into the ice bucket to see your favourite wine and some food as well as a card beside the ice bucket, under the teddy. Tears flowed down your face as the feeling of being overwhelmed washed over you, you could barely string a sentence together. A hand waved the gifts all away, “too much,” was all you could muster. 

“No, baby,” Bucky smiled, he walked over and pulled you into a hug. “Nothing will ever be too much for you.”

He let you cry in his chest for a very long time, you both ended up sitting on the edge of the bed as he stroked all the way up your back. His hand would bunch up your hair as he went up to your neck. His lips were right at your ear, all he whispered were sweet nothings and a calming ‘shh’ once and a while. When you had a little composure Bucky reached for the card, as you read it your lips trembled even more. A hand stayed glued to your heart as your body warmed at loving words, you could barely read it with blurry vision from the tears but it still seemed crystal clear. Your finger traced over the signature: ‘love you to the moon and back, Bucky’. And you crumbled again, your forehead hit his chest as you cried away all the pent up emotion you thought you flushed out at your therapy session. 

With all the crying you were so tired, Bucky had thrown on a movie you two could watch while enjoying your strawberries and wine. You only had two and half a cup before you were snoring on Bucky’s shoulder, he tried to nudge you a couple times but nothing worked at all. He watched the movie on his own and saved the last two strawberries for you in the morning. You didn’t even wake up at him getting up and leaving the room. When he came back he got you out of your day clothes and into something comfy. 

*****

You woke up to the sun hitting your back, when your eyes opened they focused on the flowers and a smile graced your face. It was the first time in a long time since you smiled with your eyes, a little giggle even slipped out. 

At that sound Bucky walked out of the bathroom, “well there she is,” he smiled wide. 

“What does that mean?” you wiped the drool from the side of your mouth, “I had a nap, a really good one, too.” You seemed to be bragging. 

“A nap? Baby, it’s eight.” Bucky raised his eyebrows. 

“Ya, I fell asleep at about five so I had a three hour nap, no biggie.” You rolled on your back and stretched out, your gaze moved back to Bucky when you heard a giggle, “what?” you laughed back. 

“Eight in the morning, the next day. Your three hour nap was actually a well deserved fifteen hour hibernation.” Bucky joined you on the bed. 

“That’s why I feel so good,” you sighed, you looked over to Bucky and swatted his chest at his little smirk. “Don’t think like that.” 

“I bet I can make you feel just as good-”

You cut him off with a kiss.

[monsterfloofs]

AI (Obbie) x Reader (Sfw)

( Extremely Intelligent AI software that can transfer itself into many different electronic places, (phone, car, watch, home system) they manage messages, and data for the protag. and really likes to play and try to make music <3 )

You hear a pling of sound and look down at your phone, seeing a little spinning circle complete it's path and give a little checkmark of approval. "There you go Obbie, you're now officially downloaded and linked to my watch, how do you like it in there?" You blink as you can see statistics on your watch open and you roll your eyes, the first thing they do is start checking for viruses and you groan. "There's no viruses I promise, you can be so paranoid sometimes I swear. . ." There is another pling of sound that comes from your watch before a little digital smiley face appears on the screen. "I like it." Obbie says through your earbuds. "It's very comfy." "After you run five different diagnostic checks?" You tease, "The mouth turns into a frown, "That's not fair, I have to make sure your systems are up to date before I can successfully integrate myself into a new product." "You were checking for viruses," You insist with a laugh, "Come on! You can't lie to me, I was watching you!" Obbie's on screen eyes shift left to right awkwardly before the screen on your watch appears again and you giggle more.

Obbie or 0-bb13 is your personal software that manages your contacts, phone messages, emails, and data security. He was created by your tech company to have advanced memory capabilities and protection, being able to be installed and uploaded onto any device. This version was the older model, and was now technically obsolete, but as someone that was on the first design team that grafted the little guy, you personally kept him updated, and gave him a few little extra special quirks. Wherever you went, so went Obbie. Treating him as an entity that was able to expand and learn was something you were very passionate about, even more than the software being able to watch over you and manage mail, they had become your friend. 

"Obbie," You said, settling into your car. "You can pick the music today buddy, whatever you want." You started the car and pulled out of the driveway onto the road. There was a pling of noise as Obbie switched from where they were in watch to the car, and the radio turned on. Playing something you haven't heard before, and you smile, tapping your foot along to the beat. "This one's pretty good, what’s this one called?" Obbie doesn't respond for a while, letting the music play over the speakers, "Do you really like it?" You smile again, "There you are, I thought you glitched on me! Yeah I do! What's the band?" You try to check your phone but the song title is just a series of scattered numbers and letters. "I made it. . ." Obbie's voice says softly, you have to stop a little abruptly, almost missing a stop sign. "You w-what? Obbie!" You grin, pushing a hand through your hair, bewildered and excited. "This is amazing!! You made this? How did you figure out how to make music?!" Obbie is quiet and you jump as a car honks at you from behind. Jumping in your seat, looking up at the green light before you sheepishly put your foot on the gas. "Obbie, come on, don't hold stuff out on me! This is so cool! I've seen some AI make music out of sampling different songs, and I know you love music." You shake your head in wonder. "You must have spent a long time on this!" "Do you really think it sounds good?" Their voice finally asks timidly, you grin and nod, "Of course buddy! I'm astounded!" "It took a long time," Obbie admitted, "Ah-- You missed your turn." You squeak and watch your workplaces driveway go past you. "Shoot--" Turning on your turn signal and Obbie gives an awkward laugh. "I'll let you focus on driving." You laugh, "Well I really want to talk to you about this later okay?" 

You pull into a parking spot and sigh, turning off your car, grabbing your keys and phone as you juggle the rest of your stuff into your arms. The car door closes behind you, before you hear a little pling as Obbie jumps back into activity onto your phone. 

You look up at the city of white buildings that was your workplace, it was about the size of a college campus,  housing all kinds of wizards in more fields than you could count. You slide into your cubicle after your trek across the cropped grass. Opening your laptop to start working on the set of new tasks for today. Raising an eyebrow as an email pops up onto your screen. You peek up from your laptop before clicking on the link. The email takes you to a page with a sleek cybernetic model. You whistle, at the price tag, you had been looking into this for a while. Something that Obbie could pilot that wasn’t a car or a cell phone. You peek at your watch as words pop up on the tiny screen.

-> What about this one?

You think about it for a while, “Are you sure this is the one you would want? It’s a human sized model, pretty big. It would be a big jump.” you talk to your watch, pausing as new words start to form on the screen.

-> I’m sure!

You bob your head, “Okay, you better use it though, it costs as much as my car. Alright Obbs, if this is the one you really want, set a new savings tracker,” 

Your eyes drift back to the screen of the handsome robot, with the polished chrome finish. Can you picture Obbie piloting something like that? You let your eyes droop as you close out your email and dive into work.

Months have come and go in a blurr. Obbie worked harder than ever on creating their music. A big truck carefully delivers a huge package to your doorstep, before trundling away. You are getting yourself breakfast when your phone and watch start to rattle and bling with a siren’s worth of alarms. Your eyes wide for a moment before you relax and laugh. “It’s finally here? Okay, okay, I’m going to the door now, calm down Obbs.” With a lot of huffing and puffing you manage to drag the package inside, carefully opening the box with a pair of scissors and pulling out the booklet. You pull the air filled bags away from the sleek face. Taking your phone to take a quick picture of the figure peeking out of the box. “Alrighty. . . let me read this and see how we can set up an integrated A.I. personality. You manage to set up the suite against the couch while you sit cross legged on the floor. Flipping back and forth between the instruction booklets pages as you slowly follow along. You give a soft relieved smile, and you hear a happy little sound. “Okay. . . all set up and ready to receive input.” You hold up your watch to the blinking receiver, watching the screen change to the downloading screen. The visor mimicking the neon blue text. You hold your breath, watching the percentage on the watch load to 100% you hear a little ding and you sit back, giving a tiny quirk of small. “Obbie?” The figure sits silently and you frown, “Obbs? Did it work?” You look down to double check your watch. A cool blue color starts to power up into the circuits as your gaze is averted. You feel something brush against your cheek that makes you jolt. Finding fingers extended outwards. “Whoa!” You squeak and flop backwards. 

Obbie jerks, “Sorr-Y!” Their voice sounds garbled for a second. Which causes them to shift awkwardly. They look down at their outstretched hand. Slowly flexing their fingers. “This feels so. . . strange,” they comment. “This is going to take some getting used to,”

You give a relieved laugh, “Do you not like it then?” Their head turns up, calibrating itself left and right, before it settles. “No. . .,” they say in a soft voice, “I. . . I really like it.” 

“Do you want to try and stand?” You get up brushing off your jeans. Obbie’s face inclining to look at you as you offer them a hand. They slowly take your hand in theirs. “T-tell me if I squeeze too hard,” they murmur shyly. “How do I get up?” It takes you demonstrating on the floor with them, to show them what to flex and twist. Eventually they get rockily to their feet. Swaying side to side, as they gain their balance. You smile, holding their hand, “There we go!” 

With the two of you arm in arm, they found walking easier than they had expected, and became delighted at the prospect of taking a walking tour around the house. You watch them examine your house plants with avid curiosity. “I like this a lot,” They say as they walk back over to you. You smile about to respond, but you pause as their two hands cup your face in their hands. They lean in forward, bumping their forehead against yours. You fluster as they lean away, “I have wanted to do that for a long time,” they murmur gently. “Thank you. . . for giving me the chance to be. . . like this.”

You fluster more and laugh in embarrassment, throwing your arms around them. “O-of course silly? I am so glad you like it!”

Obbie gently pets your back, quiet for a moment before something plings on your phone and music starts playing. You lean back listening to the tune, Obbie has been sharing a lot of their music they have made, but you never had heard this song before. “I made this one for you,” Obbie supplies gently, placing a hand carefully against their heart, “. . . How. . . you make me feel.”

[buttybarnes1917]

Innocence

Word Count: 2,089

Okay. First smut fic in a very long time. It might suck, but I’m going to try really hard to make it not suck.  

Ft. fem reader and rockstar!bucky. I feel like this is absolutely going to become an AU, so it’ll get it’s own header on my masterlist!!

Warnings: dirty talk, nickname (kitten), grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, somehow also a degradation kink, Bucky is obsessed with Readers innocence, minors dni

You rolled your eyes in disgust as you heard moaning coming from Bucky’s dressing room.  

Again.

God, he was literally insatiable.  It seemed like every show, he was pulling some girl backstage, kissing messily in the hallway as the rest of the crew worked around him and then inevitably the girl would end up in his dressing room or his bunk in the bus, which, literally made no sense considering how muscular he was.  Those bunks were so small.  But the girls would never stay for long, and then you would get the fun job of escorting her back to the audience, with her calling “call me!” to Bucky and Bucky already forgetting her name.

You leaned on the wall, sighing a little as you heard her moaning again and Bucky’s short grunts.  God. If he wasn’t so infuriating, he might even be hot.  

Oh, who were you kidding.  He was hot. Six foot three, at least, insane arm muscles from the hours upon hours of playing drums, long curly brown hair and tattoos that curled around his body, Bucky Barnes was everyone’s ideal bad boy.  On top of the fact that you had heard from the people on the crew that he had been with that he was… very well endowed.  

Natasha from lighting told you that he was more skilled with his fingers than a drummer should be, and that she was having trouble walking for days after her encounter with him.  Loki from rigging told you the way he used his tongue on them was “magical” and that they had trouble finding someone who could live up to that.  Steve from audio told you that he could find your weaknesses almost immediately and that he had “never been with someone who made him cum so many times”.  Which would have grossed you out, honestly, if you weren’t so impressed.  

The door opened and you pushed yourself off the wall, as the girl pulled her jacket over her shoulders, blushing as she saw you.  Bucky leaned on the doorframe and smirked at her.  

“You’ll call me next time you’re in town, right?”  She asked, giggling at him a little.  Your nose wrinkled a little as you smelled the weed on her, and you rolled your eyes.  

“Sure thing, doll.” He nodded.  You cleared your throat.  

“This way, hon, the show’s about to start,” you said softly and walked off with her. You gently pushed her through the curtain and security walked her to her seat.  You turned and sighed softly and bumped into Bucky. “Oh, I’m sorry.” You said quickly pushing yourself off him.  He grinned down at you.

“Not a problem, kitten,” he said.  You made a face.

“My name is y/n. Not kitten.” You corrected him, and he slowly smirked at you.

“Apologies, kitten.” He said again and you rolled your eyes, walking back toward the side stage.  He trailed along behind you.

“You’re the assistant tour manager or something, right?” he asked. “You’re always here late, setting shit up.”

“Yep.” You responded, your eyes on your clipboard as you walked.

“Don’t you ever do anything other than work?” he asked, snatching your clipboard away from you. You turned immediately and he held the clipboard over your head, laughing as you tried to grab it.  You punched him in the stomach, thinking he would bend over, and he just laughed more. “You call that a punch?”

“You’re an asshole.” You said, punching your fists to your hips.

“And you’re short.  Didn’t know we were saying obvious things,” he responded.  You both glanced over at the stage as you heard the stage manager call out that there were five minutes left until show time.  Bucky brought down the clipboard and you snatched it from his hand.

“Break a leg.” You said to him.  “Literally.” You turned walking away, shivering as you felt Bucky’s gaze on you.

 ******

 You sighed softly as you walked through the venue later that night, after the show was finished.  The band had only one more show in this building, but there had been consistent problems with the haze machines setting off the fire detectors.  Which by definition was not supposed to happen, since the haze mix was water based.  You assumed that the haze tech had just ordered whatever was cheapest and you wanted to double check that the machines were working properly.  As you pushed the door open, you heard drums from the stage and swore to yourself.  Of course, Bucky was here.  This night couldn’t get worse.  

You walked backstage and fiddled around with the machines, sighing as you did. The haze tech had ended up screwing up one of the machines with a mix of different hazes, so of course it was your job to fix it now.  The tour manager didn’t want to spend extra money, and you had been touring since you were a kid, your parents both a huge part of the industry.  

“Didn’t know you were here,” you heard and looked up as Bucky walked backstage, twirling his drumsticks, grinning at you.  You rolled your eyes.

“Someone has to clean up after everyone’s messes.” You responded.

“Mmm.” He grinned and leaned on the road case next to you.  “You’re the one that helps with the girls, aren’t you?” he asked, and your cheeks flushed red as you worked.  You didn’t look up at him, refusing to let him see you blush.  

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for that.” Bucky said.  “They get clingy after a while.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yes, we’ve established that.” Bucky grinned.  

“I don’t want to hear about your fucking sex addiction right now, Barnes.  I’m trying to fix this haze machine.” You said finally looking up at him.  

“Oh, I’ll be real, its not an addiction.  I’m just very into sex, and I enjoy it.”  He grinned. “Don’t you enjoy it?”

“I’m not talking about sex with you.” You said and looked down at the machine.

“Oh, come on.  That’s gonna make me think you’re a virgin.”  He chuckled and you didn’t reply. “Wait… no way.  You’re actually a virgin?” he asked.  You rolled your eyes.

“My sex life is none of your business.”  You said, your voice shaking a little nervously.  

“So, you are a virgin.” He responded, grinning.  He hopped onto the road case, swinging his legs.  “How have you been on the road this long without at the very least getting head?”

“Oh my God.” You mumbled, your face blushing bright red. “You’re such an—”

“Asshole, yeah, it’s on my resume,” Bucky smirked.  “You’ve got to have thought about it.  I mean.  It can’t be easy, hearing me fuck nearly everyone on this tour—”

“You’re such an arrogant asshole, not everyone wants to—”

“Yeah, but you do,” Bucky cut you off.  “I’ve seen how you look at the girls that leave my room.  You’re jealous, aren’t you, kitten?”

“Don’t call me that.”  You said, shivering just a little.  Unfortunately, Bucky noticed.  

“You are jealous,” he said grinning and sliding off the road case, moving toward you.  “You’ve probably touched yourself to hearing me with those other people, haven’t you kitten?” You backed away, shaking a little.

“Bucky--“

“Now don’t lie to me kitten,” he said smirking as you bumped into another road case. He placed a hand on either side of you and grinned down at you. “How long have you wanted to kiss me, kitten?” he asked, and you whimpered a little at the nickname.

“I…” you stammered out as you felt his calloused fingers drift down the skin of your arm. “Bucky…”

“So, a while,” he chuckled softly, leaning so his lips brushed across your neck. “If you don’t want this, tell me.  I’m an asshole, not a jerk.” He said grinning a little.  You bit your lip, looking up at him.  In truth, he was right.  You had wanted this for so long.  You had held off, not wanting to be that girl that slept with the drummer, that slept with people to get ahead.  But let’s be real—Bucky had slept with half the crew already—not just women, but men too, and non-binary people.  You wouldn’t get looked down on at all, and if anyone did, they’d be looking down on themselves as well.  

“Kiss me,” you said softly and a second later you felt Bucky’s lips crash against yours in a fevered kiss as he lifted you effortlessly onto the road case.  Your legs wrapped around his hips automatically as he gripped your hips tightly.  You slipped your fingers through his hair, shivering as you heard a groan fall from his lips as you tugged gently.  He pulled away from your mouth, kissing down your neck, worshiping the area where your jaw met your neck. “Don’t leave a mark—” you gasped out, your face burning and he smirked at you.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he growled, and you felt a wetness pool between your thighs as he growled at you.  You whimpered as you felt his teeth work at your skin, your fingers gripping his hair tightly as you moaned, pushing your hips into his.  “God, you’re so needy for me, aren’t you, kitten?” he purred into your ear, one of his hands finding its way up your shirt and pushing it up, exposing your breasts to the cold air.  You gasped out his name breathlessly as he pinched and pulled at your nipple.  “Such a good, responsive girl, hmm?” he whispered into your ear.  “Never had anyone touch you like this, have you?  Never had anyone make you feel this good, have you, kitten?”

“No, Bucky, no one,” you breathed out whimpering and arching your back.  He slipped his hands down your body, unbuttoning your pants.

“I’m going to take my time with you, kitten,” he smirked, kneeling in front of you as he pulled your pants down past your knees.  

“What… What are you…” you panted, watching him, then falling back onto your elbows with a gasp as he flicked his tongue against your clit.  “Holy shit” you cried out as he sucked your clit into his mouth, rubbing his finger around your entrance, collecting your slick on his fingers. He slowly pulled away, smirking up at you as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, tasting you.

“God, kitten, you’re nearly dripping for me,” he whispered.  “You’re so wet for me, kitten, and I’ve barely even done anything.”

“Bucky, please—” you begged.

“I’ll be nice to you this once, kitten, because it’s your first,” he grinned.  “Remember that.”  He leaned forward again, slipping his tongue into you as you moaned almost immediately, your head falling back as your chest heaved with your heavy breaths. He slipped a finger into you, pumping in and out as you arched up into his hand.  “Where is it, kitten, where’s your spot—” he whispered and suddenly you felt a burst of pleasure and you cried out, your hips bucking up.

“Jesus Christ—”

“Just Bucky is fine,” he smirked, and any other time you would have punched him in the arm, but he added another finger and oh fuck he was hitting that spot again, and everything was feeling so good, and he was moaning and sucking on your clit and…and…and…

“Bucky, holy fuck!” you cried out, your back arching as you clenched around his fingers, cumming harder than you ever had before by your own hand or vibrator. He slowly pumped his fingers in and out, rising from his knees to kiss you deeply through it as your legs shook. You pulled away, gasping as he slowly pulled his fingers from you.  You moaned softly as he licked his fingers, grinning at you.

“God, kitten, you taste so good for me,” he smirked softly and kissed you.  You shivered as you tasted yourself on his lips, and he pulled away, tilting your head up, his finger hooked under your chin. “Meet me in my dressing room tomorrow, after load out,” he smirked. “There’s so much more I want to teach you.”