#the community notes feature came in handy too

[flowerpotmage]

Tight Grip, Broken Dam (4)

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You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest. If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Notes: for series: slow burn, ambiguous relationship, found family dynamics, reader is in their late 20s. for chapter: action scene, nongraphic injury

Word Count: roughly 3k

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

The first time you had held Miguel was in his lab. It was the earlier days, the grief still raw, the man still shell-shocked. You were brand new to the multiverse, to Earth-928.

You had found him watching videos of his daughter.

“Miguel?”

You’d never seen him close windows on his platform display so fast, before or since then. You waited for him to say something, anything, but all you saw was the tension in his shoulders.

“I’ll leave these here, we just thought you'd like to have some food…” you said, glancing up at him while you placed the takeout box on a level surface.

“Thank you.”

The ghost of a wobble in his voice made you pause, look closer at him. A thwip and a swing, and you were suddenly on the platform with him. He turned to look at you, the vague surprise on his face doing little to hide the shine of his eyes.

And then you hugged him, your arms around his waist and your head against his chest as you squeezed him tight. He clearly didn't know what to do, his own arms floated awkwardly in the air.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m returning the favor,” you mumbled. “From when we met.”

His body seemed to relax at that, just slightly, and his hands came to rest lightly on your back.

“...Thank you.”

You wake twenty minutes before your alarm feeling ill-rested and ill at ease, your dream fading rapidly from your mind. Turning your head to look at where your phone is charging on the edge of the mattress (“You really shouldn’t sleep with that thing in your bed,” you hear Miguel say in the back of your mind), you stare at it as if it will miraculously fix your previous night’s sleep, or suddenly announce that you actually have hours left to return to dreamland.

No such luck.

So you drag yourself out of bed, feeling much like a cursed skeleton climbing from a blackened pit, and reluctantly start your day.

When you head out you leave a sleeping Gwen in the apartment, your dimension-hopping watch in your inner coat pocket beside your mask in case she needs to contact you. You don’t have time to get a burner phone for her this morning, but you put it on your mental to-do list.

Like many Spider-People, your day job is in journalism. You’ve lost track of how many Peter Parkers work in photo -journalism, and how many at the Daily Bugle specifically. You’re no stranger to J. Jonah Jameson and his anti-Spider-Person vendetta, being the target of it here in your own dimension, but you couldn't imagine working for him too. No, your main job is writing for the features section of an entirely different paper, often assigned to human interest pieces, community events, and independent art exhibits. This only pays about half the bills, freelance barely covering the rest, but the hours are flexible and your journalism pass has come in handy enough times during Spider-sleuthing that you wouldn’t change a thing.

Well, besides more pay. Obviously. So… yeah, actually, maybe one thing.

But your heart’s barely in it today. While your body sits in the paper’s office floor, waiting to talk with the editor in chief about your latest piece, your head is–

“You okay today? You look about a million miles away,” one of your colleagues seems to materialize before you, her long pin-straight blonde hair tucked behind one ear.

You give an apologetic smile. Even under the terrible fluorescence of the office lights she manages to look like an ethereal elven being.

So not fair.

“Sorry, late night,” you chuckle weakly. “Didn’t sleep well.”

“I’m guessing from the way you say that, it wasn’t for any fun reason,” she attempts to joke, and you chuckle.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Just uh, one of those nights.”

She glances at the door behind you. “Good luck with Ellison. Ben’s got him in a real mood today, I hear.”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

She smiles, turning to head to the door. “See ya later then.”

You return the smile. “Bye, Karen.”

She’s passing through the office door when the editor’s office opens and a balding, bearded man pokes his head out, fixing you under his bespectacled stare.

“ Please tell me you have good things to tell me today.”

“Mitchell,” you greet, rising from the plastic chair to follow him into his office. “Have I ever let you down?”

“Only about five times in recent memory,” he says, motioning for you to close the door as he turns the corner around to the back of his desk, sitting down.

“Fair,” you acknowledge. “But then did I not totally make up for those?”

He rolls his eyes begrudgingly. “Okay, fine.” He gestures at you. “Out with it.”

“I need an extension.”

He sighs, going to take off his glasses–

“I’m kidding,” you quickly say. And then, “Sorry,” when he glares at you from under his crunched together eyebrows. “I actually finished early, it should be in your inbox, and,” you fish out a thin stack of paper collected in a binder clip, holding them towards him in offering. “I brought you a hard copy for your notes. I know the printer here is on the fritz.”

He raises his eyebrows, reaching across the table to accept the papers. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” you say. “Because I'm going to assume you can't pay me for it yet, so I won't even ask. Can I have my next story?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to finish so soon,” he says, plopping the papers down on his desk. “I won’t have more for you for at least a week, since you refuse to cover the Spider.”

“Conflict of interest,” you immediately recite, punching your hands into your coat pockets.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves you off. “Take the week, use it to catch up on your freelance work, see if there’s anything you wanna pitch to me.”

You nod, the two of you say your farewells, and you exit the office.

Back on the street, a light wind nips at your nose and ears. There’s no aggression behind it, the nips as harmless as a teething puppy, but the chill is there nonetheless. Once again you punch your hands into your pockets to spare your fingers the gummy mouthing of the wind, letting it chase you down the sidewalk and dance around your heels.

With nothing but time to kill, you scan through your mental list of tasks and errands—

Ah. A phone for Gwen.

The simple errand was going very, very wrong.

First, on the way there, you had gotten swept into a car chase as The Spider, at one point narrowly dodging a bullet with your name on it. The unnamed woman from the last night Miguel had stayed over flashed through your mind when it blew past you, throwing you off and earning you a road rash on your hands, knee, and one forearm that you’d be feeling for the next few days, at least. God, you wish you had a better healing factor.

Second, the first phone-related store you happened upon was one of those places with windows pasted with advertisements, the glass behind bars, and the entire storefront covered in bright glittery and flashing signage. Most prominent was the ‘ WE BUY GOLD!!!’ sign dancing with all the enthusiasm of a Las Vegas showgirl.

It was also being robbed. Which wasn’t a problem for you of course, it was just that you were starting to feel pretty damn drained already and it wasn’t even noon.

After some acrobatics that would impress even Gwen, you succeeded in webbing up the four men involved with the overzealous attempted robbery, leaving them hanging from the lampost outside to be picked up before buying a prepaid flip phone with cash.

But no, that wasn’t all that went wrong. You believed yourself to be in the clear, stopping to get a sandwich once back in your civilian clothes, and now you sat on a bench in the square watching manicured bushes rustle in the midday breeze.

“Mm,” you hum, swallowing your first bite of your sandwich, and going for another.

And then, the third thing goes wrong. A portal opens up and spits out a rather tall man, covered head to toe in glowing and moving circuit-board patterns under his hat and trenchcoat. The air buzzes with static even from where you sit nearly twenty feet away, your internal alarm blaring like a bad horror movie.

His head turns with a sudden, jerking motion, looking you directly in the eyes.

“Oh, shit.”

His body turns to face you, moving as jerky as his head had. You barely have time to jump up and run, abandoning your sandwich, before his arm lifts and he fires a goddamn laser ball at you.

“Shit, shit!”

You scatter with the other handful of people who had been in the square, searching frantically for somewhere to pull on your mask and safely ditch your things. It takes a moment, but you manage it, and when you emerge from the tiny alley to slingshot yourself back to the square, the anomaly is walking straight for you, movements jerky and mechanical.

“Ohhh, this isn’t good,” you lift your watch to your masked face as you land on a grassy patch. “I need backup! Anomaly on Earth-”

You don’t manage to get your dimension number out as you speak into your watch, because a second laser blast is heading straight for you. Your internal alarm bell screeches at you just in time for you to dodge and for it to fly through empty air where your rib cage had been moments before.

You land in a roll, scraping your road-rash all over again, standing as the park tree behind where you had stood moments shatters and topples, branches bouncing and rustling against themselves in a way that sounds quite a lot like the blood rushing through your ears.

You shoot a web at the electric man, but his cannon arm— Holy shit, his whole arm? —tears through it like, well, a cobweb.

“Electro!” You shout, taking a wild guess as to his identity. You don’t have an Electro on your earth, but you’ve heard enough and seen enough waiting to be sent home, so you connect the dots. “We don’t need to do this! I can hel-”

“Not. Elec. Tro.” He speaks, voice choppy like his movements, distorted and filtered. “Ven. Ture.”

Dots un- connected.

“Wha-? Who?”

He raises his cannon arm at you once more. You start to run, looking for something with height.

No such luck.

Then across the square a familiar golden portal opens, pulling your attention.

It pulls Venture’s too.

A figure steps out, Venture swinging his cannon arm in the new direction. You call out in warning, shooting your webs to grab his arm. The sudden pull on his arm throws his aim off and the cannon fires into a bench, leaving a charred hole the size of a man’s torso where the laser hits.

You see a piece of charred sandwich wrapper comically flutter away from the blast as a familiar voice calls out to you, using your alias of Spider.

Your head whips to see Miguel. Miguel, who you’ve just saved.

Miguel who could be vaporized right now.

“Wrap him up!” He shouts, and you nod, Miguel charging Venture while you have his arm webbed and unable to aim at him.

You seem to realize at the same time that Venture does that just because he cannot pull against your web to shoot Miguel, doesn’t mean he can’t just turn towards you.

You don't register the words, but you recognize Miguel’s shout as you backflip and narrowly dodge yet another blast from Venture’s laser cannon arm. When you’ve righted yourself you see Venture firing wildly, Miguel’s talons digging into and cracking the cannon as he shoves it aside.

You’re sprinting towards them, shooting webs to pin the cannon arm to the ground before Venture can raise it and shoot Miguel, who’s baring his teeth to bite down on the man’s other arm.

Alarm bells.

“Wait, don’t–!” You cry, shooting webs to pin down Venture’s other arm, grabbing Miguel’s shoulder to pull him back.

“Why not?!” He snarls, whipping his head and shoulders to face you, all adrenaline and teeth and talons as he crouches over Venture.

“He’s not– He’s all– he’s all juiced up with electricity–” you scramble to explain, waving your hands around.

His eyes dart over your face, your body, catching on your scraped hands, knee, and elbow. He stiffens further, breathing heavily from the short fight. In the blink of an eye he whips back around, punches Venture in the face, knocking him out cold.

“Jesus,” you whisper, eyes wide.

Miguel rises and begins to tie Venture up with his own webs, tearing yours off the now unconscious figure’s arms so that they’re no longer stuck to the ground. You’ve seen his talons before, of course, but you can’t help but stare at the quick work they make of your webs.

His mask is back on when he straightens to his full height, turning to look at you.

“Are you alright?” He asks, nodding his head at your scrapes.

You blink under your mask, looking down. Only now do you see that the scrapes on one of your hands and on your knee are bleeding again. As the fog of adrenaline begins to recede the sting of pain comes in to replace it.

“Oh, yeah. This wasn’t him, this was… earlier.” You flex your hands slightly at the growing sting in your palms, glad he can’t see your slight grimace under your mask. “It’s been an… eventful day.”

Miguel stares at you for a moment, before looking down to tap his watch. “Come to HQ.”

You nod.

Miguel insists you get your scrapes cleaned up by one of the medically trained Spider-Men at HQ when you get back. He lurks in the corner, his elbow resting on his other arm crossed over his ribs as he taps at his chin, his bottom lip. He takes brief breaks from glaring at the floor to take the occasional quick glance up at you, his fingers pausing in their tapping when he does.

“No significant debris,” Doctor Spidey says, pushing away on his stool to retrieve bandages where they sit waiting on the counter nearby after cleaning your scrapes. “They’ll heal up fast, just keep it clean for the next while until they do.”

You nod, keeping your palm out for him to wrap. Both of you try to pretend that Miguel isn’t hovering in the corner while bandages are wrapped around your palms, your outer forearm, and your knee.

“Alright!” Doctor Spidey says. “You’re good to go.”

After expressing your thanks you exit the doctor’s office, Miguel’s towering form following behind you.

“How’d you get those anyway?”

You turn to look at him, a brief jolt going through you when you find his eyes already on you. His brow is furrowed, and the muscle in his jaw twitches when he turns his gaze forward to focus on the path of the hall you both journey down.

“Oh, um, car chase earlier,” you say, wishing you had pockets to put your hands into. You finally look away, watching the ground in front of your feet.

Miguel’s form by your side eats up your awareness, even as you pass other Spider-People and exchange passing hellos. Something restless and hot rolls off his body, and it swallows you up like water.

“You need to be more careful,” he says, and his voice is sharp with agitation, frustration.

You bristle at his tone.

“I am careful. I was careful.” You frown, turning to look at him.

The muscle in his jaw twitches again.

“Yeah. Clearly.” He says, glancing at your injuries and looking away just as you frown and start to open your mouth.

“Miguel, hey! Oh-ho, and our little Garden Spider?”

It’s Peter who interrupts whatever it is you're about to say to Miguel. As usual he has May with him in the baby carrier, and her pudgy little hands hold onto his fingers as he absentmindedly bounces them in the air.

You do your best to school your features, your mask clenched in your hand as you try to take your attention back from Miguel and his now crossed arms in the corner of your vision.

“Hey Peter,” you give a close lipped smile, hoping it doesn't look as tense and forced as it feels.

He glances between the two of you, Miguel’s tense body and crossed arms, then your own stiff posture and your bandages.

“Damn,” he raises his eyebrows. “What happened to you ?”

Miguel’s crossed arms tense in the corner of your eye.

“Car chase,” you manage to say. “Slipped.” You shrug, mustering up every ounce of nonchalance in your body.

“Oh,” he laughs. “I’ve been there. Road rash is no fun. Y’know, one time–”

“Peter, as fascinating as I’m sure this story is, I have things to get to,” Miguel interrupts.

“Right,” Peter shrugs it off like it's no big deal, stepping out of the way. “You’re missing out though, it’s a pretty good story.”

“Uh-huh.” Miguel lets his arms uncross as he starts to walk again, and he gets a few large strides past Peter before he falters to a stop, turning to look back over his shoulder.

You want to continue on walking with him, you really do. That new feeling you’re getting all too familiar with, the one that squeezes your ribs, returns when his eyes meet yours. He hesitates, something unsure in his eyes.

“We still need to debrief,” Miguel says.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

Miguel hesitates still, turning away at last and then walking away, shoulders tense.

Once Miguel turns the corner, Peter turns to you. “I feel like I interrupted something.”

You slump slightly, rubbing your now furrowed brow. “Today sucks, Peter.”

“Aw, hey,” Peter says, stepping closer to put a fatherly arm over your shoulders, May reaching out to pat you. “Wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head. “No, I should…” you trail off and gesture in the direction Miguel had left.

“Right. Baaad idea to keep boss-man waiting.”

You nod. Peter pats your back.

“Listen,” he says, pulling back but keeping a hand on your shoulder as you lift a hand to let May grab your finger. “Whatever it is, it’s just because he cares. You know that right?”

You nod. “Yeah, I know.” Letting go of May’s hand, you give Peter a tired, thankful smile. “I’ll see you around.”

You’re almost out of earshot when you hear Peter mumble to May:

“Those two are killing me, kid.”

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[estirose]

A (relatively) short TapXR wearable keyboard review

TL;DR: An unusual but handy and kinda fun keyboard currently (as of late 2023) let down by a rushed winter holiday release and issues carried over from earlier models, but updates are coming to fix issues and add features.

The keyboards put out by Tap Systems (Tap from now on) are always hard to explain in a short review. They are keyboards without keys, instead using finger taps to indicate letters, numbers, symbols, and punctuation. If you like quirky, unusual keyboards and are willing to put up with some of the issues, this may be a fun and handy one to use. 

(Pictured: The TapXR in top and side view - the black part is the sensor)

In order to keep this review from being even longer than it already is, I’m going to try to summarize the salient points, and maybe write a much longer review later.

The TapXR is the third of the Tap Bluetooth keyboards, following the Tap Strap in 2016 and the Tap Strap 2 in 2018. Earlier models resembled rings attached together with cords and worn at the base of the fingers; the TapXR uses an entirely different form factor. (This is not my first Tap keyboard as I own a Tap Strap.)

Comes with: My box came with both large and small wristbands, the sensor, a charging cradle, a quick start guide, a reference card outlining most of the Tap Alphabet, and a 20% off on an extra wristband.

Why I like this keyboard: I just love weird and unusual keyboards. In addition, it’s small, very portable, and easy to activate. During my work day, I often use it with my phone to write quick notes for things I need to do or look up later, and after work, I switch it to my Steam Deck to type in text, make notes, and do other things that benefit from keyboard input when I'm playing games. In addition, if I want to, I can configure a custom keyboard for frequently-used key presses.

Compatibility: Anything that can take input from a Bluetooth keyboard. Tap has a video guide on how to enable input on the Apple Watch.

Form factor: The TapXR is a small sensor attached to a stiff, rubbery-feeling band that is worn around the wrist/arm - on the underside of the wrist/arm when using the keyboard and on the top of the wrist when not. I wish that Tap had made a medium band as the large is definitely too large but the small sometimes feels a bit tight on my wrist.  That being said, I've worn it all day with no issues.

How the keyboard works: The sensor module uses a camera along with other sensors to detect finger and hand movement. Letters, symbols, punctuation, and symbols are formed by tapping one or more fingers on a (preferably hard) surface in what Tap calls the Tap Alphabet.

Turning on and off: Very easy. The keyboard turns on when you extend the sensor from the band and turns off when retracted. I suggest keeping the keyboard off unless needed.

Battery: Currently, I can get about 1-3 hours of power, but I find the keyboard recharges fairly quickly in its charging cradle (which uses a USB-C connection; you may wish to connect it to a USB-A to USB-C connector if you don’t have a ready way to plug into USB-C). Hopefully future firmware updates will up this battery life to the promised 10 hours.

Learning the keyboard: Takes some time due to the specialized nature of how this keyboard works. Expect to put several hours into practice before being able to form the muscle memory needed to type without constantly checking a reference, and even more to type at a decent speed. Unfortunately, the usual training apps (TapGenius and TapAcademy) have not been updated to work with the TapXR; reports on various forums indicate that the community has only been able to get the apps working sporadically with the new keyboard. The main app (TapManager) has some basic tutorials; I find the basic tutorial easy to follow but had trouble with the more advanced one despite being fairly familiar (though rusty) with the Tap Alphabet.

Accuracy: Sometimes, the sensor does not detect the finger positions correctly, causing the wrong set of finger taps to be read and therefore the wrong character to be output. (This being said, I generally find the keyboard more accurate than the Tap Strap, especially on softer surfaces.) As a left-handed person, I think the sensor sometimes misinterprets the camera input and tries to interpret my typing as if I was right-handed, which also causes incorrect character output. Typing on a harder surface provides more accuracy than a softer surface, though I’ve actually been able to type pretty accurately on my couch. Hopefully some of the accuracy issues I and others are currently seeing will be fixed - or at least mitigated - in a later firmware update.

Speed: Most people after a lot of training can type up to 30wpm, with the speed record at slightly over 60wpm. I’m currently typing (after a week of trying to both remember the Tap Alphabet after being rusty and trying to remember my fingers needed to be visible to the camera) at about 10-14wpm. Some of this is the accuracy issues mentioned above, some of it is because of the way that the Tap Alphabet is set up.

Mouse: I did not get a chance to test this feature as it was not available as of the writing of this review. It is supposed to come in an update in early 2024. 

Configuration: During setup, you’re prompted to download TapManager for either iOS or Android. TapManager is used to push firmware updates and settings, add custom keyboards (your own or someone else’s), and as noted above, provides a minimal set of tutorials on how to wear the TapXR and how to do basic tapping/typing. It does not need to be open to use the keyboard.

[ledenews]

ON THE NAIL! – Questions & Answers: Halloween Weekend

(Publisher’s Note: Last week, it was about expectations. This week, it’s about the team and the fan experience inside Wesbanco Arena, and that’s why Jeff concentrates on those topics as the Nailers prepare for home games this evening and Sunday afternoon.) Now that you have seen this year’s team play, what is your overall impression of the team and what you believe Head Coach Derek Army was going after when recruiting the players? I will say that this year's team, through just two games, vexes me somewhat.  I've seen the good (we'll get to that soon) and the quite bad, all in the course of a weekend.  I know they have 70 more of these to play this season, including two more at home this weekend on Friday and Sunday, but this really already feels like an important moment for this team.  This is where Derek Army has to be able to trust the leadership on the team to pull things together and not let it slip into frustration. I saw their updates on Facebook and across social media about team activities they were doing and different things they had going on in the community, and I really think that's going to be important right now.  It gives them a chance to work together and learn more about one another.  One of the downfalls of a rather short training camp and preseason is you don't get that chance to turn this thing into a team right away.  By doing things together, you get that feeling for one another. I also think this could be where that returning core really comes in handy too.  They saw last year all of the ups and downs you can have here, and found a way to turn it into a playoff team that actually won a round.  I think, if Coach Army leans on those guys and lets them set the tempo a bit for the rest of the team, it could be very beneficial.  I hope the team is also buying into what Coach Army is saying, because, as I said last week, I think he has that mindset that can really help these players develop over the next 5 months or so to become that team that can take the step that last year's team couldn't. What do you think they’ve done well despite the 0-2-0 start to the season? Sometimes it's hard to see much positive out of a weekend like the Nailers just had, losing on Saturday 5-3 after being up 3-0 over halfway through the game, and then coming out completely flat on Sunday and giving up 3 goals in the first 5:06 of the game and losing 4-2.  But in watching both games, I did see some things the team can use and build on moving forward. I liked what Wheeling did on their penalty kill for most of their chances in both games.  I know Toledo scored their first goal on Saturday on the power play, but I still like how the team set it up and pressured the puck as they passed it around and kept it mostly towards the outside of the box.  Carter Johnson, to me, stood out in both games when it came to the kill, finding ways to possess the puck and force Toledo to chase, killing precious seconds every time.  I think, to me, having that part of your game be solid can be beneficial as you make your way through the season. Also, I was very impressed with the play of Tommy Nappier in the net on Saturday.  He found ways to be square to shooters and also moved around the crease very well when Toledo executed their passing plays.  Of the five goals that went in while he was on the ice, I can only think of one where I feel like it was due to his mistake in net.  I feel like he needs to be able to count on those five guys in front of him to make it harder for their opponent to get those shots through, but if he plays like he did on Saturday all season, I feel like he's in for a very good year. What new in-game entertainment features did you enjoy the most? I know it's not necessarily new, but any time they have a dancing competition for the fans is always a fun time, especially when they can get the kids involved.  Both nights so far this year, the National Anthem has been sung by a youth group who stayed for the game, and the cameras found them during the "Dance for your Dinner" competition and they were absolutely having a blast with it.  I think anything the team can do to keep kids engaged with the product and enjoying their time there would greatly help them the rest of the way. At the game on Saturday, I had a family of four (parents with a son and daughter) sitting in front of me, and when the Zooperstars came out on the ice to do their routine, the children had such a great time.  They were dancing around and watching and laughing, and to me, that's what hockey should be.  Something to be enjoyed.  Now those kids can go to school the next day and tell their friends how much fun they had at the Nailers game, and now those kids will want to go too, and if they enjoy it, it can snowball from there.  Growing a fan base, especially a young fan base, should be something the Nailers organization aims to achieve as best they can. Did you catch the time-lapse video of the installation of the arena’s new, $1.2 million ice system? Pretty amazing, huh? I did get a chance to watch the timelapse video of the new ice system being installed and, let me tell you, I actually felt some emotions watching something like that being done in our city.  For anyone who hasn't seen it, please find a way to watch it.  To me, it shows the level of investment in something in our community that we don't see very often these days, especially in somewhat smaller cities.  This was done not just for the future of this hockey team, but to keep our arena viable for other activities as well.  I found it downright awe-inspiring to watch as those guys kept coming in, day after day, and working as hard as they could to make sure the building was ready in time for this past weekend.  To watch it go dark at the end of the day, just for the next day to come and everyone to get back to work was really something to behold.  And I will say this, watching both of those games this weekend, I couldn't help but remark to my wife just how great the ice surface looked compared to what I remember seeing there.  Great work all the way around. Have you ever tossed a hockey puck into the laundry basket during the “Chuck a Puck” game during the second intermission? I generally don't take part in the "Chuck a Puck" event, as I know myself and my arm strength just isn't enough to get it there from where I like to be.  I have tried to do it a few times in the past, and was able to get it to the ice, but couldn't get enough of a bounce to have a hope in getting it into the laundry basket.  I'm always amazed at how many do fall in every game, because I feel like it would be quite difficult to do that, depending on where you're sitting.  Who knows, maybe I'll find a way to sit somewhere that I feel I have a chance to do it at the next game and I'll take the best shot I have.  I probably still won't make it (there's a reason I played offensive and defensive line in football, and it wasn't just my size), but the proceeds go to a good cause. See you this Halloween weekend at the arena. Read the full article

[sonoftatooine]

ooh can I ask about any "Sith Anakin" of your choice and Winter Soldier AU for the ask game?

Hi, thanks for the ask! :D

SITH ANAKIN

My Raised as a Sith Anakin AU is pretty much what the name suggests - instead of becoming a Jedi at the end of TPM, Yoda senses too much danger in Anakin's training and refuses to admit him into the order, and because of this he's sent back to Tatooine and snatched up by Palpatine. The AU itself is made up of a series of fics which - very loosely - follow along the lines of various events of TCW. This particular extract is from 'The Clone Trooper', which is one of the very early fics in the series, and is one of the first things I wrote for SW:

The planet was nothing but dust and storms and death, and would have been noted as little more than an uninteresting blip on a starpilot's navigation computer if not for the raging battle that had just been waged on its surface several standard hours ago. Now, all was quiet—or it would have been, if not for the frequent winds that roared endlessly across the plains, and the crackling of bright, hungry flames in the distance. But beneath it, there was no shouting of soldiers, no screams of civilians—not even the inexorable clanking march of a battalion of droids carried through the air. All was silent. All was still.

Into this silence came two figures, one organic, one droid. The first was tall, cloaked in black with a deep hood pulled low over his head and his face covered up to the eyes. The second was a B1 series battle droid, painted with stark black stripes and clutching a blaster in one hand, and a hand-held scanner in the other. Despite one's expression being hidden, and the other incapable of forming an expression in the first place, neither seemed happy to be there.

With a sigh, Vader adjusted the cloth he had tied over his nose and mouth back on board the Twilight, his airways raw and his eyes stinging. It was a rather feeble barrier against the conditions of the planet, but the best he had had on hand. Really, it had been just his luck to arrive on this Force-damned little backwater just as a ferocious dust storm was kicking up. The stuff was whirling in the air so thick it was as if a muddy shroud had settled about them, absolute and impenetrable—he could barely have seen his own hand stretched out before him even if his eyes weren't being relentlessly assaulted with grit. It wouldn't have surprised him if he completed his mission only to find his ship half-buried under it once he returned. And that was to say nothing of Bee-One and himself in the long trek across the plain ahead of them. And that, that would not do.

The wind was howling all around him like the wailing of the dead, but Vader did not need an overactive imagination to hear the echoes of the battle reverberating in the Force. So little time had passed since the desolate plain had been full of living beings, bleeding out their suffering into the atmosphere around them, saturated thick with their fear, their anger and pain and hatred. It rushed in on him like the tides at Kamino as he opened himself up to the Force, so sudden and intense that it might have bowled him over had it not been for his years of training. He winced at the sensation—the Force was always so very loud, too loud and too bright, and now it burnt as if he were filled from crown to toe with too-hot lava—and his first instinct, as always, was to recoil. He forced himself to endure, pulling and pulling at each sensation until they lit the furnace of his own fury, and he felt his power uncoil like a dragon in his chest. The dust halted in its tracks.

“Thanks!,” came Bee-One's chipper voice over the roar of the wind. His attention was no longer on the scanner, but on the dust around them. The storm raged around them as fiercely as ever, but before the dust could reach them, it was pushed away, like filings repelled from a magnet. “That's a pretty handy trick!”

“My master has taught me a great deal,” Vader replied, his voice muffled by the cloth covering his face. He tried not to think about the one time he had seen Sidious do this, on another planet, with the sands that should have kept the Outlanders at bay parting before his new owner and closing about him like a cage, the blazing wreck of Watto's shop a faint orange glow in the distance, and his mother's screams drowned out by the shrieking of the winds— “Come on, we had better get moving.”

“Roger, roger!” It was the way Bee-One always said it—ever so slightly wry for all his chirpiness—and Vader clung to the familiarity of it, pushing the memories away. This was not Tatooine. No matter how much it may remind him— This was not Tatooine.

WINTER SOLDIER AU

So, I've managed to end up with two separate Winter Soldier AUs, so hopefully this is the one you wanted! This one is based on the premise that Anakin didn't turn to the Dark Side during ROTS and manages to escape Order 66 with a pregnant Padme. Later, the whole Skywalker family is captured by the Empire and Anakin has his memory wiped by Palpatine. It features sort of ghost Padme communicating with her family through dreams and Luke and Leia as Palpatine's adopted wards. This is a little snippet of a scene between Anakin and Leia that I'm writing (just for context, Leia knows that he's her father at this point but he doesn't remember):

"Lord Vader!" she exclaimed eyes wide as her bright little Force presence flared up in surprise. He raised his eyebrows at her expectantly, refusing to show any sign of being abashed at being caught unmasked and wandering through the halls of his master's private collection in the middle of the night. The little princess may be one of his master's heirs, but she was still a child - one who should have been asleep and safely tucked away in bed hours ago.

"Your Highness," he said. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

Leia, unsurprisingly, did not have the grace to look even remotely sheepish at having been caught so flagrantly flouting her father's rules and escaping both her nanny and her guards to boot. Instead, small arms crossed in a mimicry of his own pose, she simply stared up at him, unblinking and defiant, bestowing upon him the fiercest pout she could muster.

"I couldn't sleep," she said ever so slightly petulant. "What are you doing up?"

Vader frowned down at her, unimpressed.

"Thinking."

"About what?"

"About things not for the ears of princesses who should be in bed" he retorted sternly. Apparently, the girl was no more impressed by his evasiveness as he was by her antics, but that didn't mean she was going to get the answers she wanted. The gaze he levelled her with would have been enough to make one of his officers quake in their boots had they known to recognise him without his mask, but the unruly child did not so much as twitch under his firm stare. She glared right back at him, unrepentant.

"I don't want to go to bed," she snapped. "I'm not sleepy!"

Vader sighed. Clearly the hard line was not the right approach, but really, he should have expected that. Little Princess Leia had never been one to be cowed by disapproving words.

"You will be in the morning," he explained, with a patience that he suspected would earn him a few raised eyebrows from his men had they been here. "And then your father will be cross with you for wandering about the Palace on your own."

Mentioning his master was the wrong thing to say. All of a sudden, Leia's eyes filled with tears.

"He's not my father!," she cried stamping her foot on the ground with all the force she could muster. "He's horrible and I hate him! He punishes me no matter what I do so I might as well do something to get in trouble for."

ASK ME ABOUT MY WIPS

[stilinskitpose]

Pining over him // Peter Hale

Pairing: Peter Hale x female reader

Warnings: nsfw , smut , slight daddy kink, hair pulling, choking, unprotected sex, tonnnn of dirty talk and just a lot of sexy sin (plotless kind of)

Characters: Peter, Derek, Stiles, Scott, implies pack, y/n

Summery: The young reader has been fantasising about the feeling of being with a real man for a while now, a real man being no other than the notorious Peter Hale. However, it’s hard to be taken seriously when Peter thinks you are no more than an annoying little teenage girl.

Word Count: lost count it’s a ton

Authors Note: This is my first time posting on tumblr, let alone posting a smut imagine soooo I don’t know how this will turn out. I’m just going with the flow of my hormonal teenage instincts ;)

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“Y/n, did you even listen to a word that I just said?”

The deepness of the voice made you snap out of you staring at the entertaining spider that was crawling up the corner wall of Dereks loft, which caused you to jump suddenly on your squished position on the coach, trapped between two clowns, Scott and Stiles.

The quiet yelp you let out made Stiles stiffle a snort causing you to elbow him in the shoulder. The fucker deserved that. You let out a content sigh and an evil smile when you heard a sound of pain from your annoying brother from another mother. What can I say, the pain he feels makes me wither in complete pleasure. I snort at my chain of thoughts and look up to see a confused Derek Hale.

"Yeah sorry, I was just-", Trailing off mid sentence thinking of a viable reason for not listening to the former Alpha. Thinking it would be funny to tell them about the entertaining spider that just crawled under the crack of the wall on the other side of the spacious loft.

“There was a spider” You answer timidly, grimacing at yourself for sounding so stupid in the room full of your pack. Derek looks at you quizzingly, you giving him the most innocent look you could muster, he sighs before letting a small smile come across his features from your utter randomness.

“I was just telling you how we need to keep you somewhere safe incase the Darach decides to pay you a visit” Derek says quickly, you sigh in annoyance hating being treated like a defenceless little girl. You understood that you weren’t anything supernatural or anything but you would think Derek would have a little faith in you since you were so handy with a frying pan from being in a near death experience with the twin Alphas not so long ago. You chuckle subconsciously at the memory.

A mutter of agreements are heard from around the loft from your oh so fellow pack members. Betrayed and defeated, you try voice your opinion on the matter.

“What? No” You probably looked like a kicked puppy. You definatly felt like one. You continued “I’m not some helpless human Derek. Stiles is more helpless than me!” You whine flicking Stiles in the head which he repeated the action harder on me causing me to poke him in the ribs.

“Why has this suddenly turned into bash Stiles day? You know I have feelings too” Stiles offendingly says, his arms spazzing at his sides to try and prove his point.

“When am I ever nice to you” you scoff jokingly earning a chuckle in agreement from him before he went back to listening to the arguement infront of him wishing he had a bowl of popcorn to go along with it.

Derek ignores Stiles and resumes telling me that it’s for my own good. Blah blah.

“Where will I even go anyway? It’s not like I have a line of people waiting to protect me from the looming and pending doom of death itself” You replied, words laced with exaggeration.

“I’ll look after her, it’s not like I have anything better to do”

The husky voice came from the corner of the room shadows dancing across the body of the person that is wanting to ‘look after her’. What am I, a dog? Y/n replied in her head afraid to reply that response out loud since the deep voice belonged to a man she have been shamefully harbouring a crush on for some time now. Peter fucking Hale.

It’s not like she was afraid to converse with him, it’s just that she was terrified of making a fool of her self by stuttering out a few syllables before halting and staring at his piercing blue eyed that made her legs buckle submissively from the dominance they give off. She doesn’t know how he does it, makes her feel like her skin is on fire whilst her heart pounds faster than humanly normal. Without even meaning to aswell. It’s like he was a complete natural at turning her into jelly without even noticing. It riles her up to no extent.

Your eyes widen in shock and your heart beat began to rise much to your dismay, knowing that he probably knew the effects he had on you, since he had spectacular werewolf senses, made you want to crawl into a ball and wither away in embarrassment. But he never made any indication that he knew either from being completely oblivious or because he wanted to salvage that slither of pride you had left for yourself. You prayed the first. But you doubted it since Peter isn’t exactly known for being the nicest human in the planet.

You knew you were probably over exaggerating and stressing about this whole situation way to much but you just couldn’t comprehend what you would do if Peter found out the way you feel since he is abit older than you, being still only a junior in highschool yourself and him being a fully grown mature man that you wanted to pounce on all the damn time. Jesus I need to get laid, preferably by the man invading my dreams at night but desperate times cause desperate measures.

“Look after me? I’m not a child, I don’t need watching over, I have things to do like watching the last season of The Vampire Diaires even though I’m shitting scared to because Stephen dies” You ramble a butt load of word vomit wanting to shut up but your nerves were your worst enemy in situations like these.

“Hey don’t aim your anger on me I’m just volenteering to keep the weak and innocent out of harms way, that’s character development if you ask me” Peter replies smugly as his gaze burns into the your own. You muster up a harsh glare at Mr Hottie before pivoting to face Derek who was evidently waying the little options he had.

“Your not seriously considering this right? You hate him, everyone hates him” I bitterly state, relunctanly turning around to meet Mr Hotties patronising gaze. The evident smirk plastered on his handsome face tells me that he’s enjoying being the cause of this conflict. Mockingly sending a small wave as if proud of the past he has with the pack before him.

Everyone once again agrees with my statement causing Peter to let out an annoyed sigh before saying “I thought we all got over this anger that has been directed towards yours truely, It will give you wrinkles if you frown at me like that sweetheart”, he humours the situation by sending a wink in my direction. Ugh.

“It’s not like we have a lot of options right now y/n, as much as I don’t like it we need as many people focused on defeating the Darach. It will only be for a few days at the maximum. I promise. Please?” Derek had is puppy dog eyes displayed making it very hard for me to deny him, so I bit my tongue and agreed.

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Derek had dropped me off at Mr Hotties apartment with my bag laying heavy on my shoulders ready to stay for a few nights. This whole situation is bitter sweet if you ask me. Bitter because you didn’t know if these few days will hold a wave of awkwardness between the two of you and a lack of communication since the both of you have never had a proper convosation other than yesterday when he offered to keep you hostage in his apartment. And sweet because you’d have eye candy for a while. I was not complaining. It’s a win win situation.

You stroll around the apartment amused “I’m not going to lie I have always wondered if you lived in a secret lab or in an underground network of tunnels or something like that but this will do I guess ” you snickered and joked. Peter lifted an eyebrow and smirked saying “I’m not a complete animal darling”. My stomache filled with butterflies at his statement and I cleared my throat looking around the apartment once again.

Peter leaned on the doorframe and cocked his hip against it whilst his arms were crossed. Damn. He gave me a once over eyes lingering on the exposed area where my mid thigh length skirt lay. ���Aren’t you a little young to be wearing that?” I frowned and looked up at his defined features past his broard strong shoulders.

“I’m nearly 18 I can wear whatever the hell I want” I scoffed. Peter held his hands up in mock surrender before strolling into the kitchen with his back facing me. I could see the defining back muscles from the outline of his green v neck and the way his bisceps flexed when reaching into one of the cupboards for two mugs. His hands. Oh holy Jesus his hands. The muscular and veiny hands gripped onto the coffee mugs send a wave of arousal downstairs. My mouth turned into an o shape as I imagined all the things those hands could do to me. All the filthy things. A girl can only take so much! As my eyes began to travel down the werewolf in front of me I started to bite my lip at the way his jeans hugged his cheeks as they clung amazingly against his thick legs that held rippling muscle. I have got to ask him what his leg day routine is.

A hand started to wave across of my face as if trying to get my attention, I averted my eyes away from the goodies to see Peter staring at me with a wide smirk along his smug face.

“Are you okay there y/n? You look a little flustered. Something on your mind?” He walked towards me untill I could feel his lips skimming the top of my ear. I gulped in suprised as my eyes widened and started stuttering out an excuse.

“Oh u-um I was just— nothing” I hung my head to look at my feet awkwardly as they began shifting from nerves.

“Hmm okay let me show you where you’ll be sleeping” he his voice rasped against my ear which sent shivers around my body.

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He knew exactly what he was doing. I mean how couldn’t he? It was like we were playing a game of cat and mouse. More like werewolf and human. I snorted out a chuckle at my pathetic joke as I lay down on the bed in the spare bedroom that Peter allowed me to use. Glancing down at my lack of clothing, an oversized t shirt that said ‘bugs life forever’ and a pair of white lace panties I let out a heavy sigh clocking my head untill it reached the my phone saying it was 2:45am. My throat was dry from overthinking earlier with Peter, how he got so close to me, pressing his body against mine. Why would he even do that? He thinks I’m an annoying teenager. A child.

Wanting to wet my parched throat I hopped towards the kitchen quietly, attempting not to wake Peter from his room and not bothering with putting on sweatpants as I didn’t suspect anyone to see me in this state. I reached my arms out to the highest cupboard in the kitchen, straining my arm at the height of it and huffed when I couldn’t reach it. A deep voice made me freeze in my position and slowly turn around.

“Did I say you could use my kitchen without my permission?” I gasped as I saw his shirtless form, rippling muscle clouded his chest with light scattered chest hair in the centre that led towards the waistband of his sweatpants. Atleast someone thought about wearing sweatpants.

Holy Jesus for I have sinned. “I didn’t think you would have a problem with it since you offered to imprison me inside the walls of your apartment” I muttered angrily starting to once again reach for the glass that I am determined to get. Little did you know that Peters eyes wandered past the hemline of the oversized sweatshirt you were wearing that was hiked up from you stretching to reach the glass, this eyes lingered on the exposed skin of your thighs and the white lace panties that hugged the underline of your firm ass. Having these sudden dirty thoughts that clouded his mind from his previous dream feels wrong since you are much younger than him. But Jesus did it feel so right to him.

The feeling of someone pressed against you from behind startles you. You move to spin around when a deep voice interrupts you. “I’ll get it for you, don’t strain yourself darling” Peters voice seemed strained as if he was trying to keep himself together as you let out a choked sigh at how close proximity you both were to eachother. As he reached up to grab you a glass and handed it to you, your response make you regret the day you were born. Started from your hands brushing you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Thankyou daddy” Both his and your eyes widen at your statement.

Oh my god. Did I really just say that out loud? Judging by his expression, I’m pretty sure I did. Shit. What the fuck is wrong with you? Someone please just kill me right now. A werewolf could come up to me right now and kill me and I would say thankyou.

This is why I shouldn’t be allowed to mingle with others

As he was about to say something but you step back abruptly and close your eyes from shear embarrassment.

A husky voice made you jump on the spot, “ say it again” His eyes glazed over in pure hunger as he watched me like I was his prey and he was the predator.

“I-I don’t know w-what your talking about” my voice sqeaked in pure humiliation

“Say it again” he repeats himself before stalking his way towards you and wrapping his hand round your throat as he squeezed lightly sending an electric feeling of pleasure towards your core. You whimpered at the contact and threw your head back at the sight of this heated haze that bore into yours and so he could reach more of your exposed throat.

“Yes, you do. Say it again. I won’t ask a third time.” He growls and you can feel yourself begin to dampen at his forceful tone.

“Thankyou daddy” You coo.

Fuck.” He curses before lunging forward and taking your lips with his. You immediately open your mouth to his probing tongue and moan when it brushes over yours. Peter pulls away from your wet lips and traces his tongue down your throat as his lips begin to suck along the side of your neck surely leaving marks as he does it making you whine and shudder in pleasure. His impossibly enormous hands glide their way to my chest before capturing my breasts through my sweatshirt starting to kneed and pinch my nipples as he held intense eye contact with me.

“These-” he stopped to grasp them harshly before tearing the fabric of my sweatshirt off making direct contact with them this time with his warm and inviting hands that made me choke a whimper as I was being dominated by the man that I have pined over for as long as I have known him. “Are mine” he finished with a growl flashing his blue luminous eyes. His lips began to assault the hardened nipples, swirling his warm tongue round the bud then biting them teasingly.

“Say it, say that you are mine little girl” he demanded as his hand reached down to cup my pussy through my white lace panties.

“Oh god- oh god yes! I’m yours” I managed to stutter as I became a moaning mess as his magic fingers circled around my clothed clit before he moved them aside and plunged two fingers inside my tight walls.

Barely forming a grammatically correct sentence from the immense feeling of pleasure that I was going through, I reached down bravely to palm his prominent bulge that twitched under my palm.

He growled as his hands ran down your back, grabbing your ass between his hands touching outline of your pussy through your thin lace panties. He pushes you back into the kitchen until you feel your back hit the kitchen table. Peter pulls back away from your lips and flips you around, bending you over the table.

Shocked from the turn of events you let out a yelp, “What are you doing?” you moan and cry out as his hands pull down your panties, kicking your legs open with his feet.

“Giving you what you want baby” He husks as his hands pull down your shorts, kicking your legs open with his feet. You hear him unbuckle his belt before shoving his hand between your legs. “Your soaked” he groans before shoving his cock deep inside your pink and wet pussy.

“ Did you not think I’d notice how you feel about me baby? Your arousal always in the air for me to smell all the damn time I’m around you baby girl, you don’t even realise how hard it was to resist the urge to fuck you everytime I saw you” You purr in content at his sinful string of words.

“Peter please” you beg. He slaps your ass hard causing you to let out a loud moan. “That’s not my name” he glares. Realising what you meant it took you no time before pleasing him again.

“Daddy! O-oh fuck yes!”

“That’s a good girl, I’m going to fucking ruin you” he growls in your ear making you whimper. His dirty words only spurring how turned on you are.

“Please don’t stop what your doing” your desperate gasps are all that he needed to fuck you untill your screaming his name.

He begins to ram his cock in and out of your pussy as you let out a stream of loud and sinful moans, pounding you into the table, making the table legs squeak against the hard floor. He reached round to grip your hair as the other slings around your throat holding you in place as he begins to whisper dirty words into your ear that makes you eager to feel your pussy pulsate around his hard and thick length.

“Who knew you were such a naughty girl y/n? Desperate to feel my cock inside you, I bet you like it when I fuck you don’t you? Huh? Rough and hard?” You managed to humm before it turned into a stuttered moan as you felt yourself beginning to quiver and your legs to shake he continued to pound you with his cock.

Suddenly the feeling of a knot forming below your stomache makes you stutter out a moan “ holy shit, yes, yes!” You scream as you come undone around him as he continues to pound you through your orgasm. A stream of grunts follow after yours as he came inside you, milking your walls with his hot cum.

“Wow, that was unexpected” you grunt as you try and catch your breath, leaning against the kitchen table.

“You started it, calling me daddy and all” he teased whilst he send you a smirk.

“Well I’ll call you daddy as much as you want next time” you reach out to pull at his short hair leaning to give him a subtle kiss on his lips that lingered.

“Darling, next time I plan to fuck that warm little mouth with my cock” he growls.

That can definitely be arranged

[vampiresuns]

Creature Comfort

✴︎ CREATURE COMFORT ✴︎ 

2.9k words. In which Anatole learns the Band is in Vesuvia after Alec’s death and runs to them, pretending there isn’t one of them in specific he wants to see.

Leon (he/they) is @apprenticealec​‘s, and this piece is brought to you after her last fic, January, activated the Janiverse brainworms. Please go read that if you haven’t already.

Nadia was never late for a meeting. Ever. 

Anatole looked at his uncle with a questioning look, one of the many non-verbal communication cues they had developed while working together. They came in handy in moments like these. He shrugged at him, rolling his eyes and asking to be brought a wine glass and a very specific bottle from something Anatole didn’t even recognise, ignoring Lucio’s complaints about not being able to have wine himself. Anatole began to fidget with his quill, shaking it between his fingers, making it tap with his papers.

He didn’t want to be here. Not in Lucio’s room. It was too close to the plague. It was not safe enough. Him and Valerius could come in contact with it and bring it to the Palazzo. They could give it to anyone. They could get it themselves. 

Anatole couldn’t lose more people. Paris, though for different reasons than Plague was gone, Anzano was gone — and with them, part of Amparo’s joy — and while his parents were here, which was always a comfort, he constantly lived in fear his mother who had volunteered as a doctor would get it.

What if Valeriy got it? His chest constricted at the idea. Things with him were tense right then, but it was nothing Anatole could blame on any of them, because saying that they were going through a lot was a gross understatement. He wanted to take his uncle’s hand, something he would’ve done if they had been in the comfort of his office, but instead they were in Lucio’s fucking bedroom. What if he lost them too, because this, this, this, negligent imbecile with it’s negligent court still didn’t listen, still refused help. 

His tapping became louder. Probably, along with his aunt, the death which weighed him down the most was Alec’s. It didn’t feel just like losing her, but Ilya and Asra in the process, for their own different reasons. 

At times like this, he wished the band was here. 

“Hey, little Valerius, could you stop that tapping can’t you see it gives me a headache?”

Anatole tapped his quill one more time, on purpose. Lucio threw him a dirty look, but the Gods (whomever those were) knew Anatole couldn’t care less. 

“You’re not going to apologise?”

“Did I give you the headache? With my tapping, or didn’t you say you already had one when we came in?”

“Aelius,” Valerius warned him. He didn’t actually care how he spoke to Lucio, he knew that, but now was not the best time. 

Nadia arrived before things could escalate, excusing herself by saying she had taken longer with her cousin than she had thought she would take. Now, as a rule, Anatole never talked about his personal life when he was in Court duty. If he could pretend he didn’t have a personal life, the better. It was all out of professionalism, a defence mechanism and him being a naturally private person who wanted people who were not part of his circle to stay the fuck away from his personal business. He was good at redirecting personal questions he didn’t want to answer, and his own abilities allowed him to know beforehand when people had what he described as ‘icky interest’, unable to describe the leftover sensation his magic left him in any other way.

But it was late autumn, and he had seen so many Vesuvians die, his friend had died, his aunt had died, and for a moment his heart betrayed him, thinking that maybe, just maybe seeing Leon alive and well would be a comfort. 

Why? He couldn’t tell. They had nothing that was serious, but right then he would’ve given anything for the comfort of his laughter. For allowing himself, for one moment, to focus on anything other than the impotence of his position. 

Now, when Anatole got single minded, his ability to see consequences blurred a little, however, he had enough mind to change to Prakran when speaking to Nadia. “Was it Jamil? Is he alone?”

It was a way to loophole his own rule about no personal talk at work, and a way to keep Lucio at a distance. He would keep the Count at a distance no matter what. 

“Aelius,” Valerius said, standing close to him, his voice no longer the Consul’s, but his uncle’s, “I don’t think now is the time.”

For Valerius to be speaking to him like that in public, Anatole must’ve looked frazzled. Valerius was a peculiar man: Anatole couldn’t say he had met many more people, if anyone at all, who were two distinctively different people in private and in public and managed to come off as authentic on both occasions. The cues were there in either scenario, but it made sense why people who only knew Valerius publicly couldn’t understand why someone such as Anatole put up with him for any other reason than personal ambition. 

Right then, however, as Nadia replied that yes, it was Jamil and the Band, Anatole couldn’t listen to his uncle, but he pleaded to him silently — another of their nonverbal cues — when he passed on his quill and his papers to him. 

“I have to go.” 

“Aelius,” and, of course, the Consul was back. “Your duties.”

Anatole raised a single eyebrow at his uncle. He would rather get chewed back when they were home about this than staying; besides, what could he say? His Court performance was stellar. He cleared his throat. “Clean water sources, especially if we can get a way to pool the infected water back so we can study it are a priority, the chain supply for the flooded district completely broke, and you need to speak to the Guild of Merchants about it. A new group of nurses has been taken to the Lazaret this morning, and according to three different accounts we should get more court magicians to see whether or not this disease has a magical origin. Did I miss anything, Consul?”

Anatole didn’t wait for an answer. Bringing out a face covering from one of his pockets, he tied it with practice around his face, breaking into a race before anyone could stop him. 

His steps echoed through the halls of the Palace as he ran. Outside, the sure clacking sound against the cobblestones travelled with him as he made his way through the City as fast as he could. He felt his chest burn from exhaustion and a frantically beating heart, but he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t slow down until he was near the familiar street of Camia’s shop and dusk fell on the City. 

He sat outside to catch his breath for a moment, something twisting inside him when he realised what he had done: he had almost snapped at the Count (again), he had barged the Countess with questions, and he had deflected a meeting he had to attend. Sure, his notes had all the information they needed, so Valerius could literally read them aloud and it’ll be just as if he was there, but he had been working in the Court for three years now. He should know better than shoving his sense of duty into someone else’s hands because he wanted—

What did he want? He felt the words freezing at his throat, a knot threatening to make all words escape him, forever, as he hanged on the cliff’s edge, refusing to look down because looking down meant admitting to himself too many things he didn’t want to admit. That he couldn’t admit. 

He was there anyway, so he knocked on the door. 

As soon as he stepped inside, he felt like coming here was a mistake, but once again, he couldn’t turn back. Out of stubbornness or true caring, he didn’t know. Perhaps both. Pulling through his impulsive decision was better than allowing the skin crawling sensation that he wasn’t wanted there win. No, he’d push down under a rug, and deal with it when he was alone. It wasn’t Camia, however, who made him feel that way. Camia had given him a half-hug, half-shoulder grab that was all the same full of affection that he was happy to retrieve as she asked about him, and he allowed himself to finally answer a personal question, and he asked about her and how she was doing, if there anything he could do.

It was Leon. 

The source of the skin crawling sensation grew just a little bigger, threatening to snap his gut in two. 

“You too? I didn’t realise we were hosting a pity party.” 

He had never been more thankful for Leon not to be able to see his face, and never more embarrassed that Camia could. He exhaled, letting a practiced neutrality settle on his own features. 

“Right. Anyway—”

“What’s your excuse that you didn’t know and you were so very busy following the Consul around.”

“Leon,” Camia said, “Nana, I’m sorry.”

He gritted his teeth as he replied. “I did know Alec died,” saying it was more difficult that he wanted to acknowledge, “I knew almost immediately. I have ways to keep tabs on the Lazaret, or rather, I have to overview the death lists, if you wanted to know how I knew, Leon. There’s no need to apologise Cami, I just didn’t know you were still in the City. Asra mentioned talking to you, but him and I aren’t precisely on speaking terms at the moment.”

He took a deep breath, letting out a sigh. “But I didn’t come to bore you with my accommodated Court position troubles, of course, I came because grieving is a bitch, life doesn’t stop for it, and I’m sure you all need a hand.”

As he tried to make his way to the kitchen, telling Camia an inventory of things he was happy to help with, insisted to help with, Leon stood between him and his way. For the first time since he had arrived, and for the first time in what it felt like too long, Anatole allowed himself to look at Leon. He wasn’t going to lie to himself: Leon’s face had crept onto his memories too often, sitting too comfortably in the back of his mind as a source of ongoing, mental conversation between him and what he thought Leon would bicker about when he was tired of the Courtiers being terrible, or other people who worked in it being just as exhausting as them. 

That Leon and this Leon didn’t look anything alike. He was thinner, his hair looked messier, he looked sad. He looked incommensurably sad. It made Anatole want to reach out and pull him close. 

Leon wouldn’t want that, and even if Anatole gave into wishful thinking, his words were enough to cut that thread: “What do you think you’re doing?”

“It’s called helping you, I mean your friends. So if you please let me go to the kitchen to make a list.”

“But why? Is it guilt, Anatole?”

He shouldn’t have come here. “I do not dignify stupid questions with answers, Leon. No matter who they come from.” 

He stepped to the side, walking past Leon and making his way through the shop for pen and paper. He hadn’t been there too many times, but he had been there enough times to have a vague idea of where they were. He settled in the kitchen area to make a list of things he could get for them right then, and things he could help them procure regularly. If anyone came to ask about his own grieving, he already had an answer prepared as using his extensive, notoriously tightly knit family was always a good excuse. Two of his friends had come live with them, because it was safer. He had people. 

They didn’t need to know how much he spoke of or he let himself feel around them. He would’ve liked to talk with them about Alec, talking helped him process things, but he thought it was unfair to ask, so he didn’t. He didn’t ask, and wrote his list instead, pretending he couldn’t hear Leon and Camia bicker about him somewhere else in the shop. 

He left through the back door to go into the market, came back through it. Brewed tea for everyone, and cooked dinner bringing Jamil a tray with food when it was done. 

“It’s been a while since I had to use a kitchen, but I want to think I haven’t turned completely useless,” he told an unresponsive Jamil as he squeezed his shoulder. “If you want me to tell Valeriy you’re here, I would be happy to help with that too, just let me know, will you?” 

Jamil didn’t say anything, but Anatole didn’t expect him to. 

Camia told him off for not asking for help with dinner and he shrugged, making nothing out of it. “It’s the least I could do.” 

Leon spoke before Camia could reply. His tone was less hostile, but still far removed. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“You always do that thing where you do more than people usually would, and then call it nothing.” 

“If you want to file a complaint, the booth is open from monday to thursday, from 11 am to 3 pm, and it’s well past that hour, so I don’t think I’m taking criticism at the moment. Look, I know you’re going to tell me that was my own decision, but I almost snapped at the Count and ditched a meeting to be here. I came as soon as I knew, and before you say anything else, Leon, I am well aware you are all more than capable than taking care of yourselves, and that you are capable of being responsible for once—”

“What’s that supposed to mean—”

“I think you’ve interrupted me enough. I’m not Nadia. I’m not someone you can chew because it’s easier to process what you’re feeling that way. It hu— it’s not fair.”

To his surprise, Leon didn’t fight back. Instead, he asked Camia if he could excuse him and Anatole for a moment. Leon surprised him again by apologising. 

“I… what?”

“Take it or leave it,” Leon said, trying his best to emulate their playful bickering, but Anatole could tell in his words that he was far, far away. His mind was somewhere else, and he couldn’t do anything but respect that.

“You don’t have to entertain me, you know? I really didn’t come because I would get something out of it, other than lending a hand to people I care about. I believe I told you already what I believe about affection.”

They stood together in silence, Anatole wanting to reach out and hug Leon. All he allowed himself to do instead was run his finger over Leon’s forearm twice. Exactly twice. 

“Leon, do you know that if you, you specifically, ever needed anything I would help you, right? If you let me be there for you, I’d be happy to do it.” 

Leon put his hand on Anatole’s arm. Anatole, for a second, allowed himself to believe in every possible, positive outcome of the interaction. Thousands of Leon’s existed in that moment, as many as crossroads existed right then. Some thanked him, a heartfelt thank you he could feel through his words, his magic absorbing the warmth of it. Some hugged him, for long minutes until Camia came to retrieve them, and they knew they could all be sad together, but they would be together nonetheless. Others kissed him, kissed him like Anatole desperately wanted to, his treacherous heart screaming for Leon to turn to him at the worst possible time to ask for such a selfish thing that Leon couldn’t possibly want, but it didn’t matter. Because in that moment he allowed himself to hope for once in months and—

“Could you keep an eye on Asra?”

What he wanted to reply was who kept an eye on Leon, he could keep an eye on Leon. What he said was: “Is something the matter?”

“You both work at the palace, you see him more than we do and I’m worried about him. I’m afraid he’s looking into things he can’t control.”

Anatole stepped back, straightening invisible wrinkles from his coat, clearing his throat. “I will, but I need you to promise not to stretch yourself too thin… actually, I will anyway, I’m sure you don’t need me bossing around.”

Leon’s smile was weak, but sincere. “Will you take care?”

“Leon, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“You said you almost snapped at Lucio.”

“He wanted me to stop tapping a quill, it was nothing, he never means it when I’m bouncing stuff against things. Not that I’m making excuses for him, I have better things to do with my time.”

“I know he’s sick but—”

“Leon, I don’t want to talk about my insufferable boss.”

Anatole wanted to take a Gondola back home, he didn’t want to walk. He wanted to sit down on one of the boats and see the stars reflected in the water, swirling as the gondolier moved, and make inconsequential chatter with them, but he had never been very good at lying to himself. 

He was feeling too many things he couldn’t admit, he was feeling too much altogether and whenever he was overwhelmed, he cried. He could cry in silence, him and the City and his steps as he made his way back to the Heart District and pretended he knew what to do about his own. For the first time in forever, he wished he hadn’t taught himself to hope. 

[elylandon]

Part 1 - Chapter 8: Voices

Summary: You’re running for your life when you cross paths with an ex-bounty hunter and his small, green companion. You never thought you’d find someone throughout the whole galaxy who was as lost as you.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 4,681

Rating/Warnings: M for mature content. Swearing, violence, [eventual smut], etc.

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9 

Note: (Slight AU - Slow Burn) I hope you enjoy this one! ❤

---

While the Razor Crest was a decently sized ship, it could still feel a bit cramped at times. You never liked tight spaces, but you could say you were used to sharing such close quarters with others. There were times when you had shared tiny rooms with two or three other girls in overflowing group homes, and other times when you were dragged into tight corners of Thasar’s estate by some of his business partners. So being stuck on the Crest for days on end, or crammed into that small barn back on Sorgan, hadn’t ever bothered you before.

But then everything changed. You had to admit that it wasn’t exactly instantaneous. It was a gradual change you hadn’t noticed until you were painfully aware of it. How could you not be when every time you saw the Mandalorian, your stomach would erupt in a fit of flutters, and every time he spoke, those flutters would melt into something deeper? And thanks to the confined space of the Razor Crest, seeing and hearing him was such a regular occurrence that, after two weeks of this, you were starting to lose your mind.

You just had to go and tell him how much he meant to you all those days ago, how much you trusted him now, when you had every reason not to trust anyone ever again. And then he just had to jump on your vulnerability wagon and tell you his name, wholeheartedly relaying that he trusted you too.

You needed to get off this gods damned ship.

That was difficult when your party hadn’t exactly found an ideal place to stay just yet. However, as much as you wanted the space to privately mull over all these troublesome feelings you were having around the Mandalorian, you’d desperately appreciate at least a few short hours off this ship for a supply run. So that’s what you suggested to Din.

“I don’t think we should go back to my usual spots,” Din said from his chair, filtering through different planets on his radar. “By now, the Guild might have discovered them and asked after me, knowing now that I visit those places every few weeks.”

You nodded from your co-pilot’s chair, assenting his point. The child was, as per usual, perched in your lap, happily fidgeting with your pendant. He was alternating between lightly sucking on it, and determinedly examining it. This kid really loved small, shiny objects.

“What if we went somewhere completely random? Just pick a planet, land and barter really quick, and then be back in space within a couple hours.”

“We’re easier targets on land. We’d risk alerting any nearby bounty hunters of our proximity,” Din stated matter-of-factly. You sighed.

“We’re risking that no matter where we go.”

“I know,” he said, thoughtfully tapping his fingers against each of the control sticks. He stared at the radar for a long moment, but finally selected a destination.

“What did you settle for?” you asked, sitting up a little to get a look over his shoulder.

“It’s a moon of the planet nearest to us. Seems to be a hub for trade. If any nearby tracking fobs go off, they’ll most likely assume we’re on the planet before they realize that we’re not. It’ll give us a little time.”

“A few hours worth, maybe?” There was a hopeful lilt to your tone.

“We shouldn’t push our luck. Two hours max.”

“Fair enough,” you agreed, relieved. Din could tell. He glanced back at you.

“What? It’s only been two weeks and you’re already starting to feel restless?”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, squelching the jitters vibrating through your body at his attention.

---

Din watched as your shoulders immediately relaxed upon disembarking the ship. He had witnessed them inch higher and higher with each day that they remained stuck out in space, searching in vain for their next sanctuary. You wouldn’t admit it, but the close quarters were finally starting to get to you.

Din knew this, because he could feel it as well. He wanted to say it was because he wasn’t used to travelling with others, but that was a complete lie. It was your presence that was making him antsy.

Whenever the two of you were in the same space on the ship, he was hyperaware of every move and sound you made. Often times, part of him was tempted to snap at you, and convince you to leave him be, so he could focus on the task at hand. But he never acted on it. He was grudgingly coming to the conclusion that he wanted that awareness of you, constantly.

Din had admitted to himself on Sorgan that he hadn’t wanted to leave you and the child behind, despite thinking it was in the best interests of you both. Now, though, it was beyond that. After everything you had said to him as the three of you left Sorgan, he wasn’t sure he could have gone through with it, no matter how determined he was. Your words had settled something in him, and he was still trying to come to terms with that.

He needed to get off that damned ship, too.

You took a few steps off the ramp, head swiveling, taking everything in. The child mimicked you as he sat in his satchel hanging against your hip. Your hand was resting against the outside of the bag, and the child’s ears twitched as he reached out with his own pudgy hands to grasp yours and hold it close. Din’s chest tightened as he looked on, and he blew out an annoyed breath at the feeling.

“Come on,” he said, trying but failing not to sound curt in his frustration. “We’re on the clock. Let’s see what we can find.”

---

Din’s hand kept finding the small of your back as he guided you through throngs of people in the market. You were very capable of maneuvering on your own, but didn’t dare say so. You were afraid that, if you gave him any indication that you were put off by this gesture, then he’d stop, and never do it again. So you smothered the butterflies dancing the conga in your stomach and allowed him to steer you along.

Aside from the very slight herded-little-lamb feeling, the gesture was very… pleasant.

Two hours flew by like that, and the two of you found everything you needed, including a drum of fuel that Din could syphon from. That would last you another couple weeks in space.

Great.

For the most part, every merchant you met had been friendly and fair. That was, until you came across a vendor selling miscellaneous parts and gadgets. Something displayed in the stall had caught your attention, and you dragged Din over to get a look. The surly old woman manning the stand eyed your approach, running a very telling glance over Din’s gleaming Mandalorian armor.

“Check these out,” you said excitedly, reaching for two earpieces that sort of reminded you of Bluetooth headsets. You handed one to Din. “They’re ear comlinks. They might come in handy.”

“What makes you say that?” Din questioned, inspecting the gadget.

“You’re going to have to take on jobs soon, and I won’t be able weasel my way into coming with you, kid in tow. We could use these to communicate, in case you wind up being gone longer than a few hours.”

Din considered this, but wound up shaking his head.

“That’s not a bad idea, but these have seen better days.” He waved the earpiece. “I’m pretty sure this one is broken.” You took it from him and examined it, then smiled up at him.

“I can fix them, though. I’m certain I could increase their range sensitivity too.”

“To how much?”

“As long as we’re on the same planet, we should have a stable connection.”

He really did like the practicality of the idea. He was also all too aware that his funds were running low, and that he’d need to rectify that soon. He hated to admit it, but he knew he’d fret if he left you and the child alone for several hours… or days. He knew you’d worry too, not knowing if he was having a difficult hunt, or if he was dead in a ditch. If you were sure you could get them working, and working that well, then he wasn’t opposed to it.

“How much?” he asked the merchant woman. She once again ran an appraising eye over his armor, then named her price.

It was outrageous.

“Now way,” you argued, holding the earpieces out for the woman to see the damage. “They’re broken. They should be a fraction of the original asking price.” The woman shook her head.

“That’s a seven percent increase of what I bought them for. I have to make a profit for a living, girl.”

“I think you must be misremembering how much you purchased this junk for,” Din said lowly.

“The price is the price,” she quipped, not budging an inch. Din sighed.

“Fine. Forget it then, Y/N. I’m sure we can take our business elsewhere for a better bargain.”

Din started to leave, but then he noticed your expression and stopped. You were so focused, making deliberate eye contact with the woman, face a serene, calm mask. It almost looked like the two of you were in a trance. On a strange impulse, Din reached for your arm, planning to grab your elbow and carefully pull you out of it. But you spoke before his fingers grazed you.

“You will reconsider,” you said, voice monotone and even. “-and give us a fair deal on the broken comlinks.”

The woman blinked languidly, then straightened. Din watched, bemused, as she replied in the same monotone voice.

“I will reconsider, and give you a fair deal on the broken comlinks.”

If you could see his face, you might have laughed as his mouth slackened a little, a confused and troubled look marring his features. A far more reasonable amount of credits changed hands and you pocketed the earpieces, stroking the child’s ear as you brought your hand back to rest over him. As the woman started to blink more rapidly, coming out of whatever spell you had put her in, you quickly turned towards Din and grabbed his forearm with your free hand, pulling him away from the stall.

“Time’s up, right?” you asked, not even looking back at him. “We should get going.”

When Din found his words again, he said, “Just going to gloss right over whatever the hell that was back there?”

“Honestly, I’m still trying to figure out exactly how these powers work myself.”

As Din matched your stride through the market, you grudgingly released his arm. He looked at you sidelong.

“I thought you could only move things, like the kid.”

“If his abilities and mine are the same, I have a feeling he can do more than lift a mudhorn,” you shrugged, weaving in and out of crowds.

“Explain,” Din demanded.

“I will. When we’re back on the ship.”

---

Once you all were on course again, Din found himself watching you tinker with the earpieces. He was handing you tools when you asked for them, and waiting until you were ready to start explaining what had happened with the merchant. He had hauled the necessary equipment you needed into the cockpit, neither of you wanting to disturb the child that was sleeping down on Din’s cot. The comlinks were so small, and the tiny wiring looked a little complicated in his opinion, but you seemed to know what you were doing, so he just observed. Several times you had glanced up and noticed the set of his broad shoulders. He was waiting, but he was apprehensive, strumming like a livewire. You sighed.

“When I was a kid, there had been a couple times when I was able to-” you tried to find the right words. “-strongly convince others to do or not do things.” You refocused your attention on the earpieces, working while you talked, not really wanting to meet his concealed eyes as you told him this.

“Like one of my foster moms. Her husband would slap her around, and one day I got so sick of it, I threatened to knife him in his sleep if he didn’t stop. I was barely nine; I’m not sure what made me think I could play the intimidation card. He just locked me in a closet for several days.”

You really didn’t like talking about these things. However, you knew it would be easier for Din to understand the revelation you made with that woman today if you gave him a few examples. You soldiered on.

“I wasn’t sure how many days it had been, but I was starving, and I heard her walk by. I remember her opening the door when I called out to her, and I saw the absolute horror in her eyes at what her husband was doing to me. But there was also her fear of disobeying him, of the beating she would get if he saw her even talking to me. I didn’t really give a damn what she felt at that moment. She was letting him get away with it, even after I stood up for her, so she could go to hell for all I cared. But, I was so hungry, so I was going to do everything I could to get her to bring me some food. I found it strange that it didn’t take much.”

Din remained completely still as you spoke. You had to keep checking his chest to make sure he was even breathing, as if his tightly clenched fists sitting atop the armrests of his chair wasn’t enough of an indication that he was taking in your every word.

“Another time, there was a foster brother. I was thirteen, and he was a lot older than me. He used to sneak into my room at night to watch me sleep. I tried to pretend like I never noticed him, hoping he’d get bored and stop. But I could tell that he wouldn’t. Something inside me told me that I had to make him stop. So I told him to, and he did.”

You swallowed thickly after that one, and decided that was enough sharing for now.

“I couldn’t ever do this thing consistently. My attempts failed more often than not. That day, when we first met, I had been able to do it with Gurn to get me and the child out of that cage. But today, when I was listening to that woman, I could just tell she was lying. She hadn’t bought the comlinks. She’d stolen them, and was disappointed when she realized they were broken. She was trying to cheat us like she had been cheated.”

“How could you tell all that?” Din asked, speaking for the first time since being back on the Crest.

“I-I think that’s part of the ability. I’d never realized it before, but every time I have successfully influenced someone’s thoughts, I had been able to sort of discern what they were thinking. With the foster mom, it was her desire to help me, and her fear of getting caught. With Gurn, I could tell he was intrigued by my plan to escape, always eager to hunt me down. It was like a game to him. And then with this merchant, I could just sense that she was lying, and that she thought we were made of money because of your armor.”

“So… you can read minds then?” Din asked hesitantly, but you shook your head, scrunching up your nose.

“I think that’s a strong way of putting it. It’s more like these people had unguarded, weak minds. They were more susceptible to being influenced, to me sensing what they were thinking. But it’s always been a strain. It’s not like I can sit here and hear what you’re thinking, and I hope you know that I have no desire to influence you in any way.” 

With that said, you finally met his eyes again.

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded, mulling over your words. “Do you think the kid can do these things too?” You shrugged helplessly.

“I don’t know. I didn’t even know I could throw people across rooms until it happened. If I can do more than I originally thought, then… it’s possible he can do more as well.”

The two of you fell quiet then, and Din continued to watch you. As much as your explanation had sent his mind into a tailspin, watching you work was… calming. It didn’t matter if it was something like this, maintaining the ship, or playing with and caring for the kid, something about the way you did things was soothing. He couldn’t think of a better way to phrase it, but the moment he saw that focus in your eyes, and could imagine the gears turning in your brain, he felt like he could relax for once. Your presence alone took some of the pressure off, easing the constant tension he felt even before taking on the kid and crossing the Guild. He wasn’t alone in this anymore.

That’s what having a partner was for, wasn’t it? To share some of those burdens, and work through them together? Well, one of those problems the two of you would have to face together was the kid and his powers.

Technically, the child was older than you, but for whatever species he was, he was only a baby, already out there lifting mudhorns with his mind. Din knew he would have to start finding answers soon, for both you and the child, but the two of you agreed that he was comparatively more powerful. Din would need to fully understand what he was capable of in the future if he was going to continue watching over him.

Another burden being tackled together in your partnership was your past. He remembered thinking weeks and weeks ago that he wasn’t the person you should be untangling your story with, that he didn’t want to be. Now, he couldn’t imagine not being that person. It was a slow process. You were always so hesitant to let even the smallest details leak, and quick to regret allowing those leaks to happen. But you still managed to keep from bottling everything, and never once took back your words once you’d said them.

It made Din wonder if he could tell you about the things that he’s done, the things that gave him nightmares.

“Okay!” you suddenly exclaimed, causing Din to jump out of his thoughts. He tumbled back into the present to see you clicking the plastic around the wires shut before holding out one of the earpieces for him to take.

“I think they’re good to go. Time to test these babies out!"

Din suddenly realized something as he took the earpiece, and kicked himself for not thinking about it sooner.

“I’m going to have to take my helmet off.” You only nodded, as if, unlike him, you’d already thought of this.

“Yes, but for the test, I’m gonna head to the back of the ship, so we can’t hear each other except for in these. I won’t see a thing.”

You held yours up to show him the three buttons on the outside of them.

“This one turns yours on and off. This middle button is to mute yourself, and this bottom button is to mute me,” you explained. Another stupid thought crossed his mind. How had he originally thought that this was a good idea?

“How am I supposed to mess with the buttons with my helmet on?” Again, it seemed you had already thought about this. You smiled.

“Don’t worry. I have an idea for that. Let’s just make sure they work first.”

A few moments later, when he was sure you were at the back of the hull, he slipped off his helmet. Cool air touched his cheeks and he sucked in a lungful of fresh, unfiltered air. Ever since he swore the Creed and donned the helmet, in these moments, he could never decide if he was relieved to have the thing off, or panicked until he put it back on. But that was a nearly lifelong struggle he could deal with another time. For now, he tucked the comlink into his ear, and pressed the top button to turn it on as you instructed.

“Din?” your soft voice said over a current of static. That thing in Din’s chest lurched again, and he really wished it would stop.

“Sounds like they work,” he replied, about to pull the helmet back over his head.

“Yes!” you whooped in victory, and his lips tugged upwards at the sound.

“Alright,” you continued. “We should test the mute buttons, so don’t put your helmet back on just yet.”

He agreed and asked you what you wanted him to do. The two of you each tested muting yourselves, and then each other, finding that everything seemed to be in working order. You warned him you were coming back towards the cockpit, so he pulled the earpiece out and put his helmet back on. Within seconds you called up to him from the bottom of the ladder and he walked over to peer down at your beaming face.

“What was that idea of yours, then?” he asked, and your smile turned sheepish.

“Well, you’ll have to trust me for this part.” His shoulders bunched.

“Why?”

“I’m almost completely certain I can make it so you can control the earpiece from your vambrace. However, I’ll have to wirelessly connect it to the tech in your helmet.”

That fluttering in his chest from earlier evolved into a complete jolt of panic, but he quickly stifled it. Din did trust you. He was going to have to start showing it. He nodded his consent.

You asked him to drop down a couple of the tools you would need, including the earpiece, then you promptly turned away from him and closed your eyes. You lifted your hands above your head and waited, until you felt the cold weight of his helmet settle into your hands.

If he thought his heart was racing, he had no idea that yours was about to come crashing out of your chest. You knew the severity of what you had asked him. He’d told you about the Creed, what it meant to wear the armor, and why it was so important to keep himself masked from any other living being. So you knew very well the faith he was putting in you as he passed down his helmet, standing maskless above you. You were not going to betray that trust.

“Go ahead and stay up there for now,” you instructed. “I’m going to sit here in case I need you to toss me down any other tools.”

And so you sat, keeping your eyes closed until your back was leaning against the ladder. This way, you’d very deliberately have to crane your neck back in order to look up into the cockpit. When you opened your eyes, you glanced down at the helmet sitting gingerly in your lap. It was kind of odd, seeing the helmet without the rest of Din attached to it. 

You shook your head at the thought and flipped the helmet over, taking a look at the inside. You went to work trying to find something to make a wireless connection. You knew there had to be one, because you had seen him use his vambrace to control what he saw through the helmet. You resisted the urge to pump your fist in the air when you found it, and then rolled your eyes when you heard a slight clinking above you as Din shifted his weight.

“If you keep hovering like that, I might accidentally look up and see you,” you teased.

“I’m just making sure you don’t break anything.”

You froze, fingers stilling inside his helmet. You had just heard his voice… his real, unaltered voice, completely free of the modulator and the brief static of the earpiece. It was deep, warm, and reposeful. Those butterflies came to life once again, and heat not only touched your cheeks, but pooled in your belly. The most surprising of your reactions, though? Your eyes started to sting, tears threatening. 

“What’s wrong,” Din asked, noticing you had stopped working. You sucked in a quiet, ragged breath, blinked rapidly against the brimming tears, and shoved all those crazy emotions back, back, back. You could think about them later, but not in front of him. 

“Is umm,” you quickly tried to think of something that might have made you pause, and would possibly explain the slight quiver in your voice. “Is this allowed? I just realized- i-it’s not forbidden for someone to tamper with your armor, is it?”

Nice save.

You couldn’t see it, but you could tell when he had shrugged his shoulders. 

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Oh gods. You were so desperately torn. You wanted him to keep speaking, keep talking to you forever and ever, so you could just melt into the sound of his voice. But you also wanted him to shut up until the helmet was back on, because his voice was making you feel things, and it was so distracting, and-

“I’m sure it’s fine, Y/N,” he said slowly, still wondering why you were hesitating.

“R-right,” you quickly said, getting back to the task at hand. Internally though, after hearing him say your name-

Gods, I am so fucked. 

You worked for a couple more minutes, trying to calm yourself down, when he spoke again. 

“Kid’s awake.” You quickly glanced over and saw that the child had waddled up to you, wide eyes fixed on Din’s helmet. You smiled at him, but then noticed his puckered brow bone. He reached a stubby hand out, touching the helmet… and then his lower lip started trembling. 

“Oh no!” you exclaimed, dropping the helmet in your lap and lifting the kid to cradle him against your chest. 

“What is it?” Din asked, concern touching his tone. The child looked even more upset, hearing Din’s voice while continuing to stare at the helmet. 

“I think he thinks you’ve been decapitated,” you said, trying so, so hard to keep the panicked giggles out of your voice. The child’s reaction at seeing his Mando without a body was so cute, so heartbreaking, you weren't sure if you wanted to laugh or cry. 

“It’s okay, little guy, he’s safe. He’s up there, but you can’t look just yet,” you explained, pointing up at the cockpit. You heard Din step back as the child looked up, and you made quick work to finish connecting the comlink while Din spoke soothingly to the child. The sound calmed you too, allowing you to move beyond your previous feelings while you finished. 

When all was said and done, you covered both your eyes and the child’s while Din climbed down the ladder. He let you know when he had the helmet back on, then sat next to you, stealing the child from your lap as he instantly reached for his Mando. 

You watched them for a moment.

These two are going to be the death of me, you thought. 

“Are you going to keep your earpiece on all the time?” he asked, pulling you from your happy thoughts. You nodded. 

“Yeah, I think so. But don’t worry, I’ll mute myself if we’re in the same space, or if I’m annoying you with my constant blathering,” you laughed. Din shook his head, though. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he said thoughtfully, eyes still on the child. “I don’t mind the blathering. In fact, I find a kind of solace... in the sound of your voice.”

Your eyes widened, and your cheeks lit up once again. 

Yeah, I am definitely fucked.

---

Tag List: Please, please, please let me know if I missed you or the tag isn’t working. 

@sirianfromsixties @doubtedbus409 @shadowfoxey @knockbeforeyouspeak @ispilledmyink @sinon36 @whenthestarsfalldowntonight @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @imaginebeinlovedbyme @marvelobsessiononastick @pascalisthepunkest @yepimthatperson @stevieharrrr @sunkissed-winter @the-feckless-wonder @fruitsaladtree @adikaofmandalore @irishleesh93 

[someonexsomeone]

Oddjob!Mark

Guide for the wildlife tours

He’s always been fascinated with animals, ever since he was a kid

His parents thought they nailed it with his birthday present on his 10th birthday, a dog that was full of energy, but Mark thought it was just...okay

Not that he didn’t love his dog

Of course he loved it with all his heart

But it wasn't...a tiger, a lion, a bear (oh my!) 

Mark went through all the phases a kid goes through - pirate, cowboy, princess, athlete - but nothing really stuck

That is, until, he went into the third grade and his teacher had a collection of books on safari animals

There was just something about them that enamoured Mark to the extent that everything in his life was revolved around the jungles and deserts that inhabited creatures of every kind

From that day forward, Mark knew he wanted to grow up and work with animals

For a while, Mark thought he wanted to be a veterinarian

Got as far as college before he realized that he really couldn’t handle being around sad and sick animals

(and really couldn’t stomach the thought of having to tell someone their pet has passed away)

So he dropped out of that, much to his parents dismay, and transferred to a safer business major

Turns out, he has all the charm for presentations, but absolutely no idea when it came to delivering numbers

Math in high school was fun for him, but how the heck was he supposed to prove this product was worth it based on calculations alone?

His advisor was kind enough and sat down with him for over an hour trying to figure out a good major for him, one that was connected to animals

Unfortunately, zoology was ruled out pretty quick as Mark detested the idea of having to stay in school long enough for a PhD

By some stroke of luck, Mark was finally able to pick communications as a degree

He loved his classes, his natural charisma really coming in handy

He also, accidently, completed both a history and environmental studies minor by simply taking all the classes on animals that he could find

It was a strange collection of skills he had developed through his years in college, but an even stranger series of events that would somehow utilize everything he learned

On a random post-college road trip with some of his friends, they decided to visit this seemingly kiddy zoo just for fun they happened upon

They had plenty of time on their hands - no jobs, significant others, or classes were waiting for them, why not spend the whole day at the zoo?

Mark had to admit that the city they were in was pretty cute, full of people of all ages, and even a small private college to fill the space

The zoo was pretty impressive for the location, and full to the brim with families and friends just enjoying their summer vacation

Mark couldn’t help but note the small note on the corner of every map, hidden in the plea for any donation money, that this zoo also acted as a sanctuary and rehabilitation center

The boys spent their day enjoying everything the zoo had to offer, including the nasty sugared sweets shaped like the different animals throughout the park

The longest line by far was for a tropical boat ride, signs posted all around the entrance promising up close and personal interactions with animals, all from the safety of a small motorized boat. There was even a tour guide aboard to detail the experience!

Did he feel bad making his friends wait in a too long line on a hot day? Yes. Did he feel silly by how giddy he got? Possibly. Did he regret it? Absolutely not.

Within the first five minutes of the ride, Mark just felt something click

That tour guide looked like he was having the time of his life, despite the fact that this was probably the hundredth time he’s don't this exact speech

He even got just as excited as everyone else when the tiger, visible through the glass pane to their right, leap from his tree on to a rock to lounge

For the first time ever, Mark felt like he knew what he wanted to do

He couldn’t stop himself, despite protests from his friends, as he walked towards the tour guide after the tour was over

“So...uh...I really liked the show today. How do I get a job like that?”

The tour guide, whose nametag read Eric, was more than happy to tell him all about his job, the qualifications, and the amazing things he gets to do with animals during his shifts

He even got a monkey to land on his shoulder once!

Mark was completely starstruck

Within the hour, he was handing in his half-hazardly made resume (completely hand written on the back of a disposable map he found because who knew he was going to find his dream job on his stupid road trip?)

Mark has an inkling that Eric put in a good word for him, because the next day, when he was already hours away from the zoo, he got a call for an in-person interview

After ditching his friends, taking a bus back, and somehow scrounging up a presentable outfit for his interview, Mark was agreeing to his new job

And who else happened to be there, applying for an internship in the marketing department - you!

You sat beside Mark, both your legs jittering up and down as you waited in the silent back office, just waiting for your interview

Mark sat beside you (you only knew his name because he was kind enough to introduce himself when you sat down), fidgeting with a rather hideous tie

He was pulling on the ends of it, trying to get it to lay down straight but nothing he seemed to do made the fabric behave

After watching him struggle for a moment, you giggled quietly

“What’s so funny?”

“Your tie. You did it wrong.”

Mark couldn’t help but flush in embarrassment

“I haven’t really had to wear a tie recently. I’m kinda out of practice.”

“Did you want some help?”

He nodded sheepishly

It was almost romantic, the way you leaned over and redid his tie for him, fingers trying to move quickly despite how the trembled slightly

Mark tried to look anywhere but you, but your concentrated face was so cute he couldn’t help his eyes as they drifted over your features

Your blushed cheeks made you even cuter

Mark watched as you finished, your hands resting on his chest lightly as you made eye contact

Only the clearing of the interviewers throat made you two jump apart finally

She was staring down at you, a teasing smile on your face as she called you to her office for her interview

“Good luck,” he called quietly

The smile you gave him made his knees weak

Of course he got the job, and of course he was amazing at it

He was just a natural performer, entertaining the crowd

Every passenger could easily sense his passion for the things he was talking about, and it made them enjoy it that much more

(it also helped that he was extremely easy on the eyes)

Despite being able to talk and get to know people, be with animals all day, and get paid for basically being a kid again, Mark still thinks the best part of his job is seeing you every day

You make sure to pop into one of his tour every once and awhile, sitting right near the front so you can oogle at him all you want

Mark still remembers the shock of seeing you getting on his boat on his first day on the job

You looked up at him with those big ol eyes and made his heart melt

This of course did not go unnoticed by Eric, who had basically become his mentor of sorts

All it took was a single pep talk from him to get Mark off his ass to ask you out

Of course you said yes

It was obvious to everyone the minute you started dating, but who cares?

Nothing was more entertaining than watching you two sitting together and munching on the overpriced and bland cafeteria food, looking at each other with hearts in your eyes

[constant-and-immovable]

au: a hearth & home port

People come from all over, even from Bristol to stay at the inn, fiddlers playing almost nightly, and one of the owners at the piano. Redone and rebuilt, built onto with riches from rumors only say where, it’s become a  tradition for city families to holiday there who can’t quite afford a house in the country. The cove protected most of each day from strong tides, keeps the sandy beach preserved where otherwise there would only be rock and pebble. The lighthouse down the way ships in the distance leaving Bristol for the wider world.

And the stories that the proprietor tells.... Tales of adventure and romance and gold and blood....

Self indulgent and sweet, a mix of hurt comfort fic and fluff, started by myself and @wannabe-british-fangirl​. I’m not very likely to write long form material for it because we plotted almost the whole thing together, so while the kids were my characters, we both came up with it, and despite searching the chat for details, it was almost impossible to figure whose plotpoints were whose.

I did however write a timeline for it that I’ll post in the AU’s tags at some point.

But for now, meet the newer characters....

Their ages in the portraits aren’t quite right, and I’m not happy with ANY of their hairstyles or Ella’s hair color, but the site I used was an AI portrait maker and I got about as close as I could.

Cassiopeia [Cassie] Hawkins: a hell of a surprise, and a lovesick promise that if Silver stayed around, Jim would let him name her. At least, she thinks, she can shorten her name to Cassie, Cass. Even as an infant she had more in her features of her father than her mother, grew up pretty if not lanky, sharp. Prefers men’s clothing, and rougher company. The best sailor out of the lot, has been caught taking the schooner out alone at night. Has been caught as a teenager in the stable loft with the blacksmith’s oldest daughter and the grocer’s daughter.

Gets dragged home by soldiers at the age of sixteen, busted for highway robbery. A screaming match between her and her parents, sisters listening from the door, “You’re going to tell me I’ve done wrong with empty guns, robbing rich men of their tenants gold, when you used to gut men alive for information, and you never minded.”

She’s gone in the morning, a note and little else, returns a year later with the captain of her ship on her arm. The fourth generation of Hawkins women to find an older sailor and decide that he was hers.

Perpetual corner-lurker at social events unless the crowd is her age and there is copious alcohol involved, in which case she quickly becomes the center of attention, charming everyone in the room with her stories and a wink.

Cassie is never exactly close with her siblings, preferring to keep to her own room rather than the communal gathering space that Ella and Lyra’s room has become. She’s also the parrot’s favorite, and it’s unsaid but understood that when her father is gone, she’ll be the one taking Flint.

Capella [Ella] Hawkins: barely a surprise at all, despite being less than a year younger than her elder sister. The only member of the family who isn’t a fan of sea, trusting no captain or sailor other than her parents or her older sister, and no ship other than their schooner. She’s the only one who doesn’t have to be guilted or forced to work the kitchen, the best cook of the family, and quick with practical numbers and sums. Doesn’t look much like either of her parents, or (to Jim’s faded memories) any of her side of the family. Silver insists she looks just like the two of them nonetheless. Possesses more common sense than every other member of the household combined.

Extroverted and warm, she’s the one that half the town asks after, the “normal” girl in a family of changlings. The only one of the girls to grow her hair long.

Lyra Hawkins: older than her twin sister by several minutes. The older she gets the more she looks uncannily like her mother. She’s around fifteen when Silver notices, she looks just like her mum at that age...relatively horrifying, considering his girl is only a girl. Young. Very young. He’s threatened the lives of multiple men passing though Black Cove to stay the hell away from his girls but Jim was this old when he remembers trying to charm her.

“Jim, I’m a bad man.” “Congratulations, you’re four children and seventeen years too late for that revelation.”

Lyra is the dreamiest of them, listening to her father’s stories (and believing them) long after the rest of the girls have moved on from it. She knows that her mother has written some of them down, but she crafts them into something more wild and exciting, fairy stories and myths, and takes to writing poetry and prose. She’s right at home on the water, but likes society. Meets a young woman who’s painting a lighthouse in southern France one summer while the family is on holiday, and stays in touch with her through flowering letters, and eventually travels with her.

Social, like Ella (the sister she’s closest to, closer even than her own twin), she loves parties and company and dancing. Good with horses and animals.

Vega Hawkins: What felt like several minutes passe between the midwife’s assistant handing her to her father and her first breath--only moments likely, blue-grey and looking far too small, it’s not thought she’ll live through the night, nor will her mother. She pulls through of course, so does Jim, but that’s the end of that. Lyra was intended to be the last as it was, but Vega never lets herself feel like she was unwanted. Sometimes she feels like half a ghost, quiet, quick, clever. She has a sharpness to her with numbers, science, stars.

While Cassie and Ella tend to avoid the full use of their first names, Vega doesn’t mind it. She’s not particularly close to her twin, but has an understanding with her oldest sister about the need for isolation. When Lyra and Cassie rolled their eyes over learning sums, Vega quickly surpassed Ella’s skill, and soon her father’s. Nothing he knew she couldn’t figure, not even when there would be letters in with the numbers.

The sea is nice, and she’s handy at mapmaking but her eyes keep looking up.

“Where’s your sister?”

Ella counts heads at the table before answering her father: her and Cassie in a cut throat game of cards, and Lyra attempting a watercolor painting (poorly.)

“Vega’s on the roof.”

“Oh, that’s--WHERE?”

“Mum’s with her.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

 Luckily they’re not up in the turrets, but on a flatter section of the roof, Jim’s grandfather’s spyglass with them. Still. it’s over a 12 ft. drop if they fall.

Vega runs away too, but inland to university, dressed as a boy, for astronomy and physics.

The girls will also be the same in the AU that goes under the tag ‘‘An AU in Hell’‘

[detectivegabor]

Awkward Lunch Date || Discord Para

FEATURING: Sven Bjorgman, Felix Fix, Bianca Gabor, Bernard Newhart (( @svenhq, @icanfelixfixit, @detectivenewhart ))

RATING: G

BRIEF SUMMARY: An awkward lunch date between four people who have way more connections between them than four people should even in a small town. Takes place a few days after the festival.

SVEN: The text thread with Bianca was a delight and in all honesty it brought amusement to the day as he headed into the Golden Dragon to pick up the order he had phoned in for Bianca and himself that day. Though he knew Bernard and Felix would be there so he doubled it to be a sort of share party in case they were hungry.

Sven walked into the office never having been there before and asked to see if Bianca was available or on her lunch break yet. As he couldn’t just walk into the back like he owned the place, instead taking a seat as he waited for either her to come out or for her come get him which is when Felix walked in; “Oh hey-...just in time”

FELIX: Felix had spent a while trying to figure out what shirt to wear. He wanted to look nice, but not too nice for lunch with a friend and a friend(?) and a friend(?)'s partner he'd heard about but never met. He eventually settled on a plaid button up with short sleeves, along with his usual jeans and boots. He was slightly later than intended but still managed to be on time.

"Heya, Sven." He noticed the bags Sven had. "Ooh, Golden Dragon. That'll be tasty." He took a seat next to Sven. "Do they know we're here yet?"

BIANCA: After the festival (and the revelations that followed), Bianca had pretty much settled back into her normal routine as if absolutely nothing significant had happened. She had always been good at understanding her own emotions and accepting them, and never had that been more useful to her than when she decided to drag her partner along to a lunch with Sven, i.e. the other participating party in some compromising surveillance footage he had recently helped her erase.

What she had not been prepared for was to see said person's boss with him when she walked out to greet them. Bianca had only ever seen Felix in passing, and now that she knew exactly how... well-acquainted he was with Bernard, she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about him. Maybe she was the tiniest bit jealous, but even that was an emotion that she acknowledged, accepted, and then ignored as she approached them both. "We do," she said with a warm smile, reaching to hug Sven and give him a kiss on the cheek before offering her hand to Felix. "Hi, you must be Felix. It's nice to meet you. I'm Bianca."

BERNARD: With the festival having passed, a lot of the busy body work had become stagnant over the last few days. There were only so many leads they could follow for so long until they dried up completely. While he was still a bit mortified over his actions at said festival he was grateful things with Felix had been made all right for now. They were friends plain and simple, which is what he needed right now. Even Bianca's mission impossible with the tapes had settled without much dispute. For now the office was drama free which he was grateful for as he worked at his desk going over interview reports.

He spotted Bianca walking off, glancing at the clock he noted the time and figured she was grabbing their lunch for the day. Take out seemed to be the go to when lunch was her turn he learned over the years. Not that he blamed her, it was quick and easy to have at the station. Still after a few minutes he wondered how much food she'd ordered for her to take so long. Walking out to join her he spotted Sven and remembered their lunch meeting was today. Bringing his hand up he was about to wave before he spotted Felix sitting next to Sven. He almost didn't notice Bianca greeting Sven before moving onto Felix; feeling like he'd missed something he opted instead to put on his best poker face. "Hey Felix," he greeted cheerfully before glancing at Sven and extending his hand. "And you're Sven, right? I'm Bernard Newhart," he said. Well lunch would be interesting but he was nothing if not polite. Glancing at Bianca he cocked his head to the side, "We commandeering a table in the break room or going on the hunt outside for seating?"

SVEN: Sven felt like it was best to ask Felix to come with him, he had been in the hospital for a day or two, had probably way too many hassles come his way with work and the festival and probably needed a distraction to take his mind off of it. Besides with the way Bianca had invited Bernard he felt slightly awkward just being there with a good friend of his and someone he didn’t know very well but knew Bianca had him in her life for a good while. “Oh yeah, Bianca likes Chinese food and I still had that flyer that the owners daughter gave me so it look like it came in handy!”

Seeing Bianca come in the room, another behind her which he could only assume to be Bernard as he stood up leaning in and offering her his cheek smiling as he showed her the bag; “I told them to make it extra hot-... and yes-... this is Felix I hope you don’t mind me bringing him, he was in the hospital the past day or so and figured he could do with a change of scenery” gesturing to his boss before greeting Bernard; “Ah yes, the guy from her t-shirt at the festival. Makes sense now-... but the table seems fair right. Considering this might not go down well unless we sit on grass and brace the cloudy weather outside-...it looks like it might rain actually”

FELIX: "It came in handy?" Felix pointed double finger-guns at Sven. "I thought that was my thing!"

He stood up to accept Bianca's handshake. "And very nice to meet you too, Bianca." A pretty face and polite smile with surprisingly firm hand grip definitely lined up with what he had heard about her. He was feeling pretty good when Bernard walked over. His friend Bernard! Just his friend. Like they had agreed. Definitely no other feelings involved, nope. He waved back to Bernard and waited to see where they'd go to eat.

BIANCA: "Of course I don't mind," Bianca replied, glancing first from Sven to Felix, then from Felix to Bernard, and then back to Sven again. And she didn't mind, really. Or at least she didn't want to mind. But the longer that she stood there, letting the full scope of the situation sink in, the more she was starting to regret agreeing to this lunch in the first place. Ironically, she had initially suggested that she bring Bernard along with her because she thought that he would be a good buffer for any potential residual awkwardness with Sven, but that was before she realised that her and Sven were definitely the least awkward part of this. "The more the merrier. And I agree, we should commandeer a table in the break room. Just follow me."

Making her way toward the break room, Bianca picked up her pace in order to pull slightly ahead of the group, if only so that she could have just a few seconds to herself to process her thoughts and feelings. And by process, she meant acknowledging them, skipping the acceptance part, and heading straight for ignoring them. Because she had already decided that it didn't matter how she felt. Because Bernard was her friend, first and foremost, and she didn't begrudge her friends good things. She was being wholly supportive of Sven and Anita. And that was the same thing, right?

BERNARD: Bernard had overheard Felix's pun and snorted a fond smiling forming on his face at the man's antics. Eyes flickering back to Sven while everyone was introducing themselves he chuckled at the mention of their shirts. "That be me, Chief was trying to pull a joke on us but he underestimates how far Bianca will take this." Thought it wasn't like he hadn't worn it out of his own pettiness, but he also liked the fact that it was a further sign of them being best friends.

With everyone voting for a table Bernard let Sven walk after Bianca first, like always she made the first move. He was content to take the rear making sure no one gave them trouble for having two civilians join them in the break room. This also put him a position right next to Felix. He smiled warmly at the other man, after all after the hospital they'd agree to be friends, something he was grateful they'd both agreed to with little fanfare. "You know when I said I'd be happy to meet up again I didn't expect to see you quite so soon," he joked, "Have you been feeling alright?" the last question asked a bit more hushed to conserve some level of privacy. It hadn't gone past his notice the occasional pair of eyes watching them enter and sit around a break table. Office, police station, they were all the same, people loved to gossip.

SVEN: Sven followed Bianca. It was nice to see him finally meeting the guy that she always spoke about and honestly it made sense now. Usually you didn’t need a whole year with a person to pick up vibes on how two people act around each other and Sven was one of them. He could sense how close they were and from what Bianca has mentioned it just put everything all together for him in his head; “Felix that was a me level kind of joke” maybe the dude had been hanging around him too much. Or the other way around considering he worked for him.

“Oh you two know each other?” He turned to see Felix and Bernard communicating seeing this as a good thing and that he had picked the right person to come along not understanding all of the connections between the four of them; “Honestly I loved it. The t-shirts were great idea. I had to admit it was my first introduction to you at the same like in person so it’s like meeting you again!” Entering the lunch room where all the tables were plopping they food down in the middle; “help yourselves guys!”

FELIX: Felix could feel a bit of awkward tension under all of the cordial small talk, which was a bit warranted, for several reasons. One additional reason, though, was revealed by Bernard's comment. "Honestly I thought Sven told you both that I was coming? I'm sorry about that," he smiled awkwardly. "I'm feeling fine now, it's all pretty much worn off." That was only partly a lie; any instance of feeling not-fine wasn't caused by the drug at this point. He could feel his heart rate pick up as Bernard walked closer to him, as much as he wished it wouldn't. Just friends, like they had decided. Bernard was his friend, who happened to be very charming, and handsome, and had a great di- dammitnostopit.

He managed to shove those feelings back and lock them up when they got distracted by the food. He grabbed the plastic silverware sets from the bag and passed them out. "Do you guys have plates in here?"

BIANCA: By the time that they had reached the break room, Bianca had successfully managed to talk herself out of feeling awkward and uncomfortable about the whole thing, although it remained to see how long that feeling would last. Turning to Felix, she nodded in response to his question. "Yeah, let me get some," she said with a smile, heading off to the little kitchenette and grabbing four plates before returning to the table and placing the stack somewhere in the middle of all the food.

At this point she was pretty much working on autopilot, falling back on her instincts as she took a seat and grabbed the top plate from the stack, handing it to Bernard before reaching for a container of egg rolls and proceeding to count the amount of them that was inside the box. "So, how have you both been doing?" Bianca asked casually, looking up once she was satisfied that there weren't thirteen of them, pushing the container in Bernard's direction, and going for the next countable thing.

BERNARD: Glancing forward at Sven Bernard settled for a half truth unsure of how much of his personal business Felix had told him. "We use to be drinking buddies, least before we both went back to being complete workaholics." Turning back to Felix he scrunched his brows, "To be honest I completely forgot Sven was coming, work and all that, and I'm honestly glad you're here too." Pausing he glanced between the two men, "Two people who don't look stressed as hell this week is a welcome change of pace. Thanks for bringing us lunch and some nicer company." The general feel at the precinct was tense to put it lightly, that and while he would have been happy to keep working he was grateful to both for being able to make Bianca slow down this week.

Letting Bianca get them set up with plates he went to the fridge pulling out various soda cans and setting them in the middle to let everyone have their pick. "Not the first time we made use of a Christmas gag gift," he said taking a seat across from Bianca at the table. He sent her a grateful smile as he pulled out an egg roll for his own plate before adding some noodles. With her around he had been able to get past his own phobia, while it still bothered him he very rarely went into panic about it now.

SVEN: Sven didn’t know that they all knew each other and it was all so foreign to him,  the fact that he knew Bianca and Bianca knew Bernard and Bernard knew Felix and Felix knew Bernard. How did this situation come about? He had no idea but he was in for a ride.

“So let me get this straight. I went out on one outing with Bianca and you guys went out drinking?” He joked “I don’t know if I should be laughing at the fact that we both happened to be in the company of cops. Who happened to be partners. Who our also our friends-... the irony there is fantastic” Sven sat back with his plate of food picking at it

FELIX: Felix scrunched his eyebrows. "I thought I told you that I knew Bernard a few days ago, at the hospital?" Felix had kind of bared his soul to Sven; he didn't go that in-depth talking about his feelings very often. That hurt a little bit but, eh, Sven did seem like the kind of guy to forget things from a few days ago. It might be better if he didn't remember so many details, too. "It's definitely wild that we know each other separately like that, though."

He grabbed a plate and one of the boxes and served himself some fried rice. "I'm doing pretty well, Bianca, thanks for asking. Feeling a lot better than a few days ago, that's for sure." The physical and most of the mental aftereffects had worn off, but the overthinking habit was sticking around a bit. Or maybe he overthought things before, and was noticing it more now? Wait, now he was overthinking how much he was overthinking. "How are things going here? Y'all aren't going too crazy with all the work, are ya?"

BIANCA: Drinking buddies. Bianca almost snorted out loud at the description, but managed to remind herself at the last second that it was entirely up to Bernard and Felix how oblique they wanted to be about how they knew each other, and it was none of her business either way. Was she dying to know exactly what Felix had told Sven about Bernard at the hospital a few days ago? Of course. But it was still none of her business.

It was only after she finished counting a box of dumpling and pushed that in Bernard's direction that she started serving food on her own plate, telling herself once more that if this were any other situation with any other friend, she would be curious and excited about it. She would want to get to know Felix better. And at the end of the day, a good friend was what she was first and foremost, and that was the only thing that mattered. "Might be going a little bit crazy," Bianca replied with a soft chuckle, scooping noodles and a whole lot of hot sauce onto her plate before looking up at her partner. "Of course, this one is as sane as ever. No idea how he does it."

BERNARD: Alright so they all knew each other, he honestly felt like he should be more surprised than he was. Then again this was a small town, he'd be surprised if these were the only connections they shared. Especially considering the three of them were way bigger social butterflies than himself. "You talk about me now?" Bernard asked looking at Felix curiously, an amused smile on his face. Thinking on it he could only think of one other person who may know about the two of them from sheer coincidence. It wasn't like he was bothered by it more surprised than anything. After all it barely been a couple days since he'd told Bianca about him and Felix.

Adding dumplings and rice to his own plate he took a few bites as he listened to the various conversation bits happening around him. Smirking he shot Bianca a look, "You're crazy enough for the both of us, one of us needs to be able to keep things on track." Glancing between their two lunch guests he cocked his head the side, "I'm glad you're feeling better Felix, but how bout you Sven? Feeling alright since the festival?" Opening a can he took a sip of soda, his mind drifted for a minute to what Bianca had said about the festival and that tape. His mouth felt dryer than usual as he drank to relax, he assumed what bothered him about not having been there was that he hadn't been able to help Bianca. While he doubted anything close to what happened between him and Felix, or her and Sven would have happened between them, it bugged him that she'd been a vulnerable position and he'd been away from her. Pushing those thoughts away he set his drink back down refocusing on the conversation to keep the positive mood going.

SVEN: is currently spacing out, probably thinking about Anita's wet shirt

FELIX: Felix almost felt like he'd just been caught when Bernard asked his question. "Ah, yeah, I just mentioned how we saw each other at the festival for the first time in a while," Felix chuckled. There was no need to go into detail about exactly how much he went into detail. He figured, based on how Bernard always talked about Bianca, that he'd already told her about what happened at the festival, but he didn't want to make any assumptions and air out more laundry than he needed to.

"Yeah I figured as much." Felix nodded before taking another bite of rice. "It's just a whole thing. So many people got hit, and I can't imagine you could get any exact numbers." He grabbed a couple of egg rolls. "I shouldn't be telling you what you already know, though. Have you been doing much outside of work?"

BIANCA: Bianca was trying her best. Honestly, she really was. She had been trying her best for the past couple of days, with what she personally thought were fair to middling results; and while there had been a handful of moments since that night she'd gotten drunk with Anita that made her feel like she had to struggle a little more than usual, none of them had anything on how hard she felt like she had to try during this particular lunch with these particular people. Which made her feel bad, because she didn't like this side of herself. Somehow, being bad at putting her personal feelings aside felt worse in this situation than when she was bad at doing it for work.

"Wait, people actually do things outside of work? Woah, hold on. This is a novel concept to me." She was joking, of course, but as soon as she said it she immediately started wondering if it had been too much to joke about her (and Bernard's) workaholic tendencies with Felix when she had just met him. After which she started wondering if maybe she was thinking about this too much. "Jokes aside, I had drinks with a friend the other night. Actually, Sven over here knows her too. He helped fix her shower." As she thought about the night in question, Bianca's gaze instinctively moved from Felix to Bernard, drunken memories playing in her head before she shoved them back into the dark drawer where they belonged. No. Not now. Now was the worst possible time to be thinking about that.

BERNARD: Bernad's face heated up at Felix's words, his mind flashing back to what had happened between. It wasn't like he hadn't enjoyed themselves, but he hated the fact it had been under the influence of a drug. He was a logical guy, he'd kept his thoughts on Felix fairly controlled during their fling and even after it. Pixie dust had forced him into a corner he didn't enjoy being in, having to work things out with Felix to make sure they were on the same page. Bernard wasn't in a point in his life where he could place someone before his work, that and the Calhoun situation. He thought the two would compliment each other well, and they both deserved something good like that. "Right," he said nodding at Felix's words, "We didn't really get much of a chance to talk and catch up before the Chief called. We should though, could get craft beers." He didn't like them but Calhoun and Felix seemed to, he could work with that.

Bernard glanced at Bianca while quietly eating his own lunch. He couldn't put his finger on it but she seemed slightly off. She seemed tense? That didn't make sense, glancing at their lunch guests the wheels in his head turned slowly. At her remarks about who he only knew could be Anita he wondered if she really was completely fine with it. Even if she wanted something he could see her giving it up for a friend. Glancing at Sven again he raised a brow in surprise, "Were talking about Anita right? She actually let you help?" He couldn't hide the surprise in his own voice. The times he'd gone out with Anita and Bianca she was very much do everything herself kind of person.

SVEN: Sven had zoned out a bit, he didn't know it had happened and he didn't know how it happened but his spine relaxed against the seat, his mind drifting off a million miles away thinking about that moment with Anita, how their eyes connected, how it wasn't just one of those moments where you look at someone and that was it. There was something else under lying there, and that moment - that one specific moment kept replaying inside his head. It couldn't stop. Anita's face, those eyes and those lips and by god that t-shirt-... he swore the lord was testing him that day and slowly but surely a smile spread across his face as he thought about the brunette.

Almost thinking that he had heard her name on accident; "Oh yes-... Anita-..." god he was loosing it, he was well and truly loosing it, sitting up straighter, his features brighter and his energy that more intense as he came to speak about the other; "I did and my god was it funny, so like I went over to her house because she needed help and yes, she did it herself, like I was all for coaching her on how to do things" he had come so alive and so animated when telling the story, the smile never leaving his face once as he did; "and like I was telling her how to unhook the old shower head and as she did-..." pausing to laugh at the situation before telling it, he needed a moment; "water just starts spraying everywhere, like we literally both got soaked and she got so angry with herself because of it-... but I found it so cute as she started laughing-...." that laughter that could cure any problem in the world-... Sven swore he heard it in his dreams; "It was such a good day-... so good"

FELIX: Felix caught Bernard's eye and gave him an apologetic look before the conversation continued on. "Yeah, we really need to get together and properly catch up at some point." He laughed at Bianca's joke. "Oh I feel you there. Running what's technically two businesses really limits my time for socializing."

He rolled his eyes a little and smiled as Sven checked back into the conversation and started talking. He had already heard a bit about Sven's day with Anita - he made everyone report back to him with how house calls went. "And I emphasize again, if you're going to end up seeing her romantically, make sure it's off the clock next time," Felix laughed.

BIANCA: As she had predicted, Sven took the bait and Bianca breathed the slightest sigh of relief as the conversation moved on to Anita. She could feel Bernard glancing toward her as she twirled noodles and hot sauce onto her fork, and she knew that the reason he was doing it was to check that everything was fine; but even if she wanted to reassure him, she just couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. Because she knew that he would clearly be able to see that everything wasn't fine. God, sometimes it was really infuriating to have a partner who could read her that well.

"Well, if it's on the clock, then you're going to have to charge her," Bianca joked, looking from Sven to Felix and offering the latter an amused smile. Just because she was a little bit (a lot) jealous didn't mean that she couldn't at least attempt to bond with him. Infuriatingly enough, he seemed like an extremely nice guy. "Your boss over here is trying to run a business, after all."

BERNARD: Bernard's brow furrowed half tuning in and out of Sven's commentary on Anita. It wasn't like her not to meet his gaze. He felt a sinking feeling form in his stomach, he couldn't remember the last time they fell out of synch like this. Glancing at her again he looked back at Sven. She had asked about Anita sincerely enough so that likely wasn't the issue. So what was then? Honestly when was the last time he'd wondered about her mood like this? Since the tape incident it felt like something had shifted without him realizing. Now wasn't the time to ask though he'd just have to keep an eye out on things.

Catching Felix's look he gave him a small smile to let him know they were still good. The last thing he wanted was to deal with two people pulling away from him. Then again maybe that was it he thought briefly, maybe this was all just in his head or the issue was just him. Forcing those thoughts away, he tuned back in catching the tail end of the story chuckling at Anita's reactions. Sounded about right to him. He was tempted to ask Bianca if he could get Anita's side of the story to see if was as rose tinted as Sven's. "Make sure she's being charged for handyman work at least," he joked, "Anything else and we might have to actually haul you in, and doubt Felix wants to bail you out for that."

SVEN: Sven had to laugh at what Felix had said, to be honest he didn't want to charge Anita but at the same time he knew that Felix had a business to run; "I know I know, I mean to be honest I didn't want to but I promise you-... I'm a respective employee, she actually made me dinner too-... it was amazing" he didn't plan on being there for as long as he did but he was and to be honest he would go there again.

"Dear god, no-... I mean so many people have been commenting on my appearance but I don't think I could be a stripper or actually pay anyone for that" now he was getting red and rosy in the cheeks especially thinking about sex in general with Anita; of course he had wanted that but there was still a lot to go with them and they had already just begun; "If Felix won't bail me out I'm sure Roger would-... call him up like 'Hey lover boy-... I'm in need of some assistance here' though he might think I'm talking about something else so that might not actually be a good idea" he laughed it off

FELIX: Felix had just started taking a sip of soda when Bianca and Bernard made their jokes, and he nearly choked. He coughed and cleared his throat before responding. "That - that certainly wouldn't be good for our reputation, that's for sure."

He didn't much care to know about the sex lives of his employees (except one, but he wasn't going to go into that), so he tried to make himself tune out a bit as Sven kept on the subject. The lunch was going well so far. There was still the slightest hint of awkwardness between himself and Bernard, but as long as Felix could keep those lingering feelings in check, they should be fine as friends. Speaking of, thinking about Bernard with the topic of the conversation at hand brought up some memories that he pushed away as quickly as they sprung to mind. The phrase "just friends!" had become his internal mantra at this point.

BIANCA: A small, amused smile tugged at Bianca's lips when Bernard continued riffing off her joke, and without really thinking about it, she turned to look at him in order to convey her appreciation (and perhaps a little bit of that shared secret amusement at the situation as a whole that she was used to communicating with him without words) . It was such a reflex for her that she didn't even realise that she was doing it until she felt her heart ache in her chest and she suddenly looked away.

"Hmm, I'd argue that Roger is a little bit too preoccupied these days to be helpful in any situation," she replied with a grin, reaching for her glass water before shaking her head to herself. "Men. Honestly, you're all the same. No offence, Sven." It was said endearingly and in jest, after which her gaze flitted toward Felix and she wondered, for a brief moment, if he felt as awkward as she did. A pang of guilt hit her, followed by a wave of sympathy that managed to eclipse all of the less generous thoughts that she was having. "Of course, I don't know you well enough to include you in this somewhat scathing indictment, although from what I can tell, I probably wouldn't even if I did."

BERNARD: He had been slowly working his way through his food before he caught her gaze. The effect was almost instant, he relaxed a bright look on his face. Has she just...was that a flinch? Dropping his own look he hid the hurt by picking at his food and sipping at his drink. What the hell was that?

Hearing Felix he glanced up and without thinking patted the man's back to help him out. Once he settled he rubbed his back, "Think we almost broke Felix there," he joked giving the man's shoulder a squeeze before going back to picking at his food. Glancing at Sven he raised a brow opting to ignore whatever that sinking feeling was. "From what I've been hearing it be a miracle to pull Roger away from his new girl."

SVEN: Sven was totally oblivious to what was going around him, the tension between Bianca and Bernard and Bernard and Felix. It was almost like he was in his own little bubble and no one could stop him. It was actually quite sad to be this hooked on a female but yet here he was; "Oh god dammit, I am gonna have to kill someone aren't I?" there was a running joke with Roger and Sven and of course Sven could never actually kill anyone the joke was out there.

"Oh wooops-... I said that in a room full of cops and my boss-... couldn't have been at a more worse time" it was all for jokes and laughter and he would never actually kill anyone but he did turn to Bianca; "Still not going to put me in handcuffs yet?" a slight smirk on his face as he held up his hands, wrists bound-... "Bernard?"

FELIX: Felix was initially appreciative of Bernard's actions, but when the back pats tuned into back rubs he tensed up and almost started coughing again. That was way too tender for Felix's current mental state to handle at the moment. He was grateful that Bianca's comment was able to distract him. "I'm glad I give off that impression. Hopefully once we get to know each other better I can prove it true." Bianca seemed nice, and he really did hope he might become friends with her.

He gave a bemused grin to Sven's antics. "Oh, I dunno, you know Sven. You might wanna book him now before he does anything crazy."

BIANCA: Bianca offered Felix a smile and an affirmative nod in response to his comment. She did genuinely want to get to know him better. At least, the part of her that was Bernard's best friend wanted to get to know him better, and the other part of her didn't matter in the long run. It was a can of worms that she had accidentally opened and was now desperately trying to reseal in spite of how impossible it seemed to her.

"Oh, don't tempt me," she replied, still looking at Felix before turning toward Sven. "You, don't drag Bernard into this. That handcuffs thing is between you and me." Bianca paused, closing her eyes and shaking her head to herself, before looking up again. "That came out wrong."

BERNARD: Still poking at his food he listened to the conversation that continued around him. He was glad that Felix and Bianca seemed to be getting along, they were both friendly so it wasn't too surprising. At Sven's comments he slowly scooted his chair away from him, that was Bianca's to deal with. Glancing at Bianca he raised a brow, "Someone's off their game today," he quipped.

Out of habit he gave her their usual smile, though this time it was his turn to look away quickly. Looking at the middle of the table he reached for a fortune cookie in the center. Popping it open he glanced at the lucky numbers happy to not see a 13 before reading the fortune out loud, "Keep your eyes open. You never know what you might see, here's hoping it's about the case."

SVEN: Sven was enjoying the lunch for what it was, just a group of people coming together to eat Chinese Food, but this was probably because he wasn't subjected to the awkwardness the other three were and didn't pick up on it thanks to Anita and the situation earlier that was on his brain.

"Protective are we?" he turned to Bianca who had gone on the defensive over the handcuff joke that he had brought up; "You better watch out Felix you know how nuts I can get, remember the April Fools Jokes I did?" referring to the little pranks he did that had Felix probably looking at with him all shades of confusion and most likely frustration

"Oh god I am literally so scared to see what mine says-... it probably will be like-... 'look behind you, you're next' or something" always having a strange thing with Fortune Cookies. “Your love life will soon be happy and harmonious.” reading that had Sven blushing immensely Anita immediately coming to mind; "Whelp-... guess I better call her"

FELIX: "Oh lord, April Fool's. How could I forget?" Felix grimaced, remembering how one of the chairs hadn't been properly looked over at the end of the day, and he'd sat down hard on a whoopee cushion in front of a particularly high-buying customer. Luckily she had good humor about it, but Felix had been incredibly close to taking the possible lost sale out of Sven's paycheck.

"Ooh yes, fortune cookies." Felix had never put too much stock into fortune cookies, but he found the whole practice to be fun. He grabbed one of the two remaining cookies and cracked it open. "Mine says-" He cut himself off as he read the fortune. A good friendship is often more important than a passionate romance. His face felt like it had just been blasted with a heat gun. "I-it says that my business endeavors will be successful this week," he lied. "That's good news for both of us, huh, Sven?" He attempted to deflect any attention away from himself.

BIANCA: Bianca glanced back at Bernard, catching the tail end of that smile (her smile, although it wasn't really hers, was it?), fully prepared to offer him a playful eye roll and a snarky retort when he suddenly looked away. She blinked slowly, trying to process what had just happened, before deciding to simply shake off the uncomfortable feeling and focus on the fortunes being read. Which was easier said than done when Bernard opened his and read out that. If it weren't for the fact that she would look insane to everyone around her, she might have burst out laughing from the sheer irony of it; not because she thought that it was funny, but because she didn't know what else to do with all of her frustration and pent up emotions other than laugh.

In the end, she managed to delay her reaction enough to pass off the soft chuckle that escaped her lips as amusement at Sven's antics, before turning her attention to Felix as he read out his fortune. Or didn't read out his fortune? Bianca couldn't quite tell, and she wasn't quite sure what motive he had for lying, but she felt enough sympathy for him that she quickly reached for the last fortune cookie in order to help deflect attention away from him. Cracking the cookie open, she unfurled the piece of paper inside. "It says 'The greatest risk is not taking one'," she read out loud, looking up instinctively at Bernard while wondering what kind of cruel prank the universe was trying to play on her now. "Well. I do agree with that." Mostly.

BERNARD: Whatever weird tension was going on between Bianca and him would have to be solved later. They still had work after this lunch ended after all, hell maybe work would help fix whatever was going on. They were a team and he couldn't imagine working this case with anyone else. "Never really was a fan of pranks," Bernard admitted. Too many hazing rituals from his fellow officers his first year had given him enough for a life time. He managed a small laugh at Sven's fortune, well good luck to him he thought. He'd either end up on a date with Anita or under her heel, which based on his earlier comments wouldn't be an issue either way.

At Felix's he was half tempted to ask what the fortune really was. He'd spent enough time around the other man to know he was a horrible liar with an even worse poker face. Still he seemed flustered enough, anymore teasing and he'd just alienate the other man. "Well looks like we're all having a good week," he said before catching Bianca's fortune. Shaking his head he actually let out a genuine laugh. "I think ours got switched B, when the hell have you ever not taken a risk?" He quipped playfully.

SVEN: This is where Sven started to drift again, kind of just looking at his fortune cookie while everyone just chatted wondering if he should call Anita-... he had been thinking about her alot and he didn't want to come off too strong because he knew that it didn't work with literally any one in the past so this time he wanted to take it different; "I am just gonna go-... call someone-... you guys continue without me"

He seemed distracted and in a haze as he stood up and exited the scene, he really wanted to be in it with the other three but this girl was getting to him in the best way possible and this fortune cookie only really solidified that as he took his phone out putting it to his ear while the others conversed and chatted animatedly in the background hoping that he was able to hear her voice.

FELIX: Felix was looking to Sven to respond to the comment he made when the other excused himself and got up. Alrighty then. The guy who invited him here just walked off to talk to a girl he'd met days prior. Felix was no stranger to pleasant small talk with strangers, but one less neutral party made things feel even more dire with Bernard.

"Yeah, some good luck this week would definitely be welcome after everything." He attempted to stealthily shove his fortune into his pocket to prevent any follow-up questions. He happily sat back and let Bernard and Bianca quip back and forth while he attempted to compose himself.

BIANCA: Bianca was still holding the fortune in her hand trying to process what she had just read by the time that Sven suddenly stood up and excused himself from the conversation. It was enough of a distraction that she looked up and watched him leave the room before turning her attention back to Felix, lifting her shoulder in a small shrug and smiling sympathetically, as if to say 'well, guess that's that then'.

"Hey now, I don't always take risks," she quipped back at Bernard with a wry smile, injecting a level of lightheartedness into it that didn't feel entirely genuine, but was mostly there to spite the part of herself who knew exactly which risks she didn't take. Taking a deep breath, she looked between the two remaining participants of their lunch date and offered up another, softer smile. "Well, we should probably get back to work," she continued, before her eyes settled on Felix. "Do you want a cup of coffee, or something? We could grab one on the way out while waiting for Sven to finish up his call."

BERNARD: "Yea that's only true 5 percent of the time when you actually listen to me," he quipped back a smile that didn't really reach his eyes on his face. He raised a brow watching as Sven rushed off, well now that was for Anita to deal with . Glancing at Felix he couldn't help but frown a bit as Sven ducked out. "Well thanks for bringing lunch," he said figuring Felix could pass it on later before adding in, "It was good seeing you again, here's to beers later."

Standing up he started gathering up the stray containers and plates. "I'll clean up if you wanna lead them out," Bernard said casually and keeping his head down. He wasn't sure what was up with them but he also couldn't handle another weird flinch. Cleaning up kept him busy and he tried to shake off the weird feeling the lunch had created. He tried rationalizing it out in his head. Sure they were best friends and all, but they could have off day, plenty of people did all the time. This wouldn't be permanent afterall. Right?

[xathia-89]

The Handy Boyfriends

Tagging @stupidoafofspades because she loves when I write this stuff. Kind of NSFW, nothing explicit but you don’t need an imagination to know what happens.

I was hiding behind my hands, my face flushed bright red, and we had yet to leave the car. Both of my boyfriends were having way too much fun, especially for a reason behind our shopping trip. I couldn’t get out of the car quickly enough, leaving the boys to follow as I grabbed a trolley from near the entrance. I wasted no time in waiting for them, choosing to head into the DIY store with the intent of losing myself in the paints, wallpapers, cushions and bedding for long enough to be able to cool down at the very least. If not, until we had to leave with our purchases. 

Little did I know what I was letting them plan in my absence. It didn’t take too long for me to become absorbed into the colour palettes, thinking about what we already had going and what I wanted to create mood-wise. I had left myself wide open, a rookie error before a teasing growl broke my concentration and revealed my mistake. 

“I seem to have caught a kitten,” Masa was highly amused, his arms wrapped around my waist, as Shingen dropped some power tools into the trolley with one of those little smirks on his face. 

“What are you two planning?” I frowned, tilting my head back to bargain for my release with a kiss to Masa’s cheek. 

“Nothing, our goddess,” Shingen laughed, taking control of the trolley from me, and leaning against the handle. “Did you have any colours decided on?”

“Pastel on three walls, and wallpapering the fourth as a feature wall was my idea. Though I’m not sure if a pattern from the wallpaper would be the best idea or to go for a solid paint job,” I mumbled, trying to stay on topic and ignore the butterfly kisses that Shingen was planting behind my ear. 

“I think wallpaper with this firework pattern would be perfect,” Shingen was giving me a half smirk, half smile, lazily stretching the midnight blue background with golden ‘explosions’ splattered across it. His dark eyes were alight with mischief before an old lady coughed and tutted at us. Shingen was already unloading a few rolls of the wallpaper into the trolley as I finally untangled myself from Masa’s arms to grab a couple of tins of a pale gold paint, the tin promising a glittering sheen to cover the walls with. Masa reluctantly let my waist go, in exchange for holding my hand and then pulling me in the direction of the timber section of the store. 

The boys had already gotten something planned, throwing in various pieces with an only limited conference, occasionally muttering about checking lengths and widths of planks before they would agree and it would end up in the trolley. It was more than a little suspicious, but any objection or interference from me would merely mean the objects would be lifted over my head and put in without any answers. 

It was the rope that really confused me. I tilted my head before Shingen dashed in the opposite direction without a word. I looked at Masa, who grinned back at me in that familiar and feral fashion and pushed the trolley in the direction of the checkouts.

***

I had to swear that my boss was involved behind all of this as well. It wouldn’t have surprised me knowing Nobunaga and Masa. An international man of business, who phoned me the second we had gotten home from the DIY place, and told me that we were flying out to South Africa for a week the following day. I was his executive assistant, meaning I did all of the paperwork and jobs he didn’t want to do as I rushed through our house to get my work laptop open and running. I needed to arrange the hotels and car hire, as well as to follow any appointment scheduling that had been emailed over along with the information for the flights. I was too preoccupied even to try and make sense of what my boyfriends were up to. 

One week, however, turned into two weeks and three days. The only good thing about flying with my boss was that he only ever flew long-distance with the companies who had the seats to bed option. Though I had been convinced that Hideyoshi thought I was trying something with Nobunaga when the conversations about seating arrangements had occurred. I was getting the stink eye from Hideyoshi until Nobunaga had given him his goodnight kiss, and a few tender words, before leaving him in the row in front of us with Mitsuhide. It was a comfort thing for me since Nobunaga liked to cuddle, and it made me sleep properly at least since it was how Masa slept at home. It also came with the added bonus that Nobunaga knew no one could try anything with me if it was him who I shared with in the communal spaces, which was the primary reason if anyone asked. 

I couldn’t wait to see my boys, even if they were trouble on an almost constant basis. Though neither of them were able to get off work early to meet me at the airport, so I had to make my own way home. Shingen had a contract at work, and Masa had been pulled in to look after Nobunaga’s company since Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi had gone with him. I was given the rest of the day off, standard for my boss to head straight for the company coming off the plane. Long, hot shower for me at my own place it was. 

The water was so refreshing, especially since the boys had left me with an ‘apology pack’ in the kitchen. It had contained some of the expensive shampoo and shower gel I reserved for after bad days at work, some Belgian chocolate truffles, a note saying there was a bento box for me in the fridge and that I was expected to be found with the bento empty and on the sofa and watching TV when they got home. The thought they had put into it made it a big shame to not argue for once in my life. 

***

Masa chuckled to himself as he unlocked the front door. He knew Natsuki would be waiting for them after such an impromptu trip. Nobunaga was renown for jetting off last minute on business trips; plans were something for other people to sort out, which is how Nobunaga had come to hiring Natsuki, and how Masa had met her. She had been dating Shingen when she had started the job, and it hadn’t stopped Masa from chasing his interest. The first office outing with her, had also introduced the tall and broad redhead, who had been the most shocked when Masa had declared to Shingen that Natsuki was the most beautiful woman ever, and the two were soon ‘comparing’ compliments of her, until Natsuki had found out what was happening and came to put a stop to it. 

He hadn’t expected to be kissing Shingen first. The cognac had already started Shingen’s engine before the redhead was kissing Masa so thoroughly that Natsuki had to intervene to try and keep it decent. Masa had come home with them that night and simply hadn’t left. Shogetsu was more than a little disgruntled to find out that he was now housing with an Ovcharka breed of dog, called Koro, who was one of the biggest pushovers ever. The dog in question was cuddled up to his sleeping girlfriend, being used as a pillow and teddy bear, while giving Masa puppy eyes, since he knew that he shouldn’t be up on the sofa. 

“You keep her there, I need to finish setting the room up,” Masa grinned, brushing the lightest of kisses to Natsuki’s forehead before marching off to the locked bedroom. 

It was cosy, as I realised that I had fallen asleep on the sofa. Shingen’s dressing gown had been the only thing for me to change into since the door to our bedroom had been locked. I recognised the feeling of Koro’s fur beneath my fingers; the overgrown puppy had decided I needed someone to cuddle with since my usual options had both been at work before I slowly began to lift my head. 

“Welcome home, angel,” Shingen was sat in one of the armchairs, book in hand and glasses on. It gave a deceptively mature appearance to him, and he knew how much I liked the glasses look on him. 

“Mm, hello,” I murmured, rubbing my eyes free of sleep until I felt someone else wiping at my other eye. I frowned, impatiently waiting for the world to come into focus. 

Masa was sat on the floor in front of me and Koro, his back to us to ensure that we wouldn’t fall off the sofa. Shogetsu had been fast asleep in Masa’s lap, and now glaring at me because I had disturbed him. Masa’s fingers were affectionately stroking at my cheek, a fond expression on his face. 

“Nobunaga must have worked you hard,” Masa chuckled, as I cuddled back into the cosy fur and a contented puppy. 

“We should show her the hard work we’ve done in her absence,” Shingen chuckled, tucking his glasses into his case, before trying to move the shaggy dog off the spot. 

It wasn’t two seconds before Masa had swept me up into his arms, and Shingen was waiting for us at the doorway to our room. 

My jaw dropped at the big reveal. The boys had wholly renovated, the ‘bed’ we had before, which was really two double beds hashed together, was gone, and in its place was a solid base about three feet off the ground, the mattress sunken into it and I was willing to bet that there was a functional storage unit underneath as well before Masa lowered me to the soft sheets. 

It was a soft kiss from Shingen after he tilted my head up. One kiss led to two, a teasing nip asking for entrance. His tongue was thoroughly exploring my mouth, as Masa had already freed me from the offending robe. I was left open to all attacks from the boys until they caught me by surprise again. 

Silk was wrapped around my wrist before I recognised the rope it was attached to as being from our DIY shopping trip. Not that I was given any chance to attempt escape since my ankles had been subjected to the same treatment. 

Shingen began to place the tiniest of kisses up the inside of my legs. A feat usually fraught with keeping my thighs apart, but the restraints had me at the mercy of the boys. 

“Close your eyes, princess,” Masa whispered, using the joint nickname for me on purpose. “And let us show you how much we missed you.”

Natsuki was curled up to Shingen, a small smile on her face as she slept. Masa stroked her hair out of her face to ensure that she was sleeping soundly. 

“I think our handy work stood up to the task and won her approval,” Shingen chuckled, his body already beginning to slip into slumber. 

“She pulled more than I thought she would, I wasn’t sure if the silk was going to tear away from the rope at one point,” Masamune replied, snuggling up to her back and wrapping his arms around her waist. “When I said we needed more time, I wasn’t expecting nearly ten days.”

“I told you to clarify,” the other man teased, before the Sandman came to take them both for the night. 

[science-hoes]

A Visit

Summary: Bruce goes to visit his goddaughter Morgan for the first time and opens up to Tony about his life for the past few months.

Warnings: Endgame spoilers

Pairings: Bruce/Betty, Bruce/Natasha (mentioned), Tony/Pepper, Science Bros

Words: 1.2k+

Bruce Banner was coming to visit Tony and Pepper’s home next to the lake. He hadn’t met his goddaughter yet, but he was rather excited to. She was only six months old, and Tony insisted that she was already reading full novels.

Bruce had been keeping himself busy after the snap. After half of the population disappeared, there was a sudden need for professors at colleges. Bruce currently taught at Johns Hopkins University in physics, chemistry, and biomedical engineering. His students thrived because they finally had a teacher that helped them genuinely learn and succeed (even if it meant their other teachers had turned to dust). Teenagers across the country were dying to get into his lectures to hear him teach.

But it was Spring Break. And Bruce needed to get out of Maryland. So he drove a few hours to get to upstate New York to reach Tony’s new home. The last time Tony saw Bruce, he had fixed up his car with an updated GPS, since the snap had caused lots of destruction to several transportation paths. The GPS was certainly coming in handy while driving down the wooded area near Tony’s home.

As Bruce pulled into the driveway, he could see Pepper out in the garden planting flowers. He got out of the car and was met with a tight hug by his friend.

“Hey, Pepper. How are you?” Bruce asked, returning the embrace.

“I’m okay. And tired.” She responded, pulling away to look to the house, where Tony was walking out with a bundle of blankets in his arms.

“How are ya, Banner?” He asked, walking carefully down the steps to reach them.

Bruce smiled and pulled at his sleeves, his natural nervous tendency. “I’m fine, Tony. How’s the research going?” He asked.

Tony sighed and shook his head. “It’s…it’s not going. I’ll need you to take a look at some algorithms tonight. I’ve been too busy with this little nugget to focus.” He responded, taking a step closer to show Bruce his goddaughter. “Bruce, meet Morgan. Morgan, meet Bruce.”

Bruce smiled warmly at the baby, noting the dark brown eyes that matched Tony’s, and the light hair that would inevitably turn darker. “She’s beautiful. A perfect mix of both of you.” He complemented.

“Isn’t she? I think she’s got Pepper’s fine-tuned hearing because I swear she can hear the slightest sound of me working at night.” Tony rambled, looking to his wife.

Pepper smiled and gently kissed Morgan’s cheek. “Because she knows you’re supposed to be resting like everyone else.” She said before returning to the garden.

Tony sighed and shook his head. “You know, she keeps telling me to rest, but she hasn’t stopped either.” He noted, watching Pepper begin to plant more flowers and seeds.

It took a moment for Bruce to understand, but he remembered his own attempts to preserve what was left of life on Earth with his biology labs. “She wants to create more life.” He stated.

Tony sighed at walked up the stairs to sit on the porch swing. “Yep. And I told her we had to wait until Morgan is at least one until we can start more repopulation.” He dryly joked. Bruce sat down next to him on the swing, still pulling at his sleeves. Tony noticed this and rolled his eyes. “Bruce, what’s got you anxious today?”

Bruce immediately placed his hands on his knees. “Nothing. I’m fine.” He answered.

Tony rolled his eyes slightly. “I know you. You’re stressing over something. What is it?” He asked.

Bruce sighed and looked to Morgan. “I don’t know, Tony…I just…haven’t been around a baby in years.” He answered.

Morgan was cooing softly, kicking her feet around in the blanket. Tony smiled and brushed his fingers against her cheek. “Well, you forget that we both had two children of our own. Vision and Ultron? Ring any bells?”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Tony, I meant-“

“I know what you meant, Bruce. I’m sorry. Using humor as a coping mechanism has become more frequent these days.” Tony interrupted. He gently lifted Morgan to place her in Bruce’s arms.

Bruce carefully cradled the baby in his arms, adjusting the blankets so Morgan didn’t sink too far into them. Morgan began scanning her new holder’s face, dark brown eyes darting from feature to feature on Bruce’s face. Her own eyes resembling Bruce’s, and her toothless smile reminding him of the joy from someone else…

Tony watched the two interact and felt sorrow in his heart for his friend. He shifted slightly so that he leaned back on the swing. “I heard about her.” He said.

Bruce looked away from Morgan to react to her father’s words. He was silent for a second, figuring that Tony wouldn’t possibly remember her.

“Mr. Secretary of Defense called me not too long after my grand return home. He…he told me that she was gone. She was alone.” Tony tried to explain.

Bruce felt tears sting his eyes, and he removed his glasses. Morgan quickly grabbed them out of interest, and he let her hold them. “When I left, I didn’t know where to go. Whenever I don’t know where to go, I go back to her. And she’s always there. Angry at me for not calling her. Crying because we’re able to hold each other for the first time in years.” He explained, trying to carefully control his breathing. “But when I got to her house…she was gone. She left Leonard after Harlem…she’s been alone ever since.”

Tony carefully put a hand on Bruce’s back, rubbing gently to sooth his pain. “And she was dust?” He asked.

Bruce bit the inside of his lip and nodded. “She’d given me a spare key, so I walked in. And…she had been grading papers. She was in the middle of writing a sentence, the marker was still open. And there was just dust all over the couch.” He managed to speak.

Morgan began to babble to her father and Bruce, trying to communicate with them. Bruce managed to smile despite his heart hurting. Tony nodded, as if understanding Morgan.

“Well, Morgan says at least she isn’t living in this…postapocalyptic world. She’s at peace.” Tony said, remembering the boy whose body dusted in his own arms.

Bruce nodded. “Well, she’s right.” He said, using a finger to tickle Morgan’s blanket covered stomach. The baby let out a happy squeal and waved her arms excitedly.

Tony smiled at the interaction between his best friend and his daughter. “You could always start over, Bruce…I mean, Natasha still lives at the Avengers compound.” He suggested.

Bruce sighed and shook his head. “Natasha is a good woman. She’s probably a good match for me, too, but…she’s not Betty. And I never stopped loving Betty.”

Tony nodded, looking out to the garden where Pepper was. “I understand. No matter what came between me and Pepper…I just couldn’t love another woman.” He admitted, but then he looked back to Bruce. “I’m working on that damn time machine, Bruce. We’ll get them back eventually.”

Bruce smiled at his friend’s ambition. Morgan began to pull at Bruce’s shirt, so he held her upright so that she had better access to explore whatever she cared for. Morgan began to snatch at the peppered curls that had grown back out since the battle in Wakanda.

“I know.” Bruce finally answered Tony’s statement, feeling at peace again. For the first time in years, he felt more at peace around his family. Despite the suffering that had plagued the planet for too long, he knew that they would find a fix. No matter how long or whatever it took.

[theonyxpath]

This is the last week for the Mummy: The Curse 2e Kickstarter and as that gets “wrapped up” on Thursday we’re going to run right from that to set up our booth at PAX Unplugged in Philadelphia, PA.

Ah, Philly! City of my birth and youth! City of cheesesteaks, soft pretzels, and bad attitudes! I return, anon!

But before that: please check out the Mummy 2e Kickstarter if you haven’t already! We’d love to achieve the next chunk of the Book of Lasting Death and get some more Utterances and Judges in there – but we need your help! If you’ve already pledged – tell your friends! Wander the streets and alert the neighbors! If you haven’t pledged, well here’s the link: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/339646881/mummy-the-curse-2nd-edition

Let’s go out strong! (Like the reverse of the Mummys…)

V5 Chicago Folio illustration by Michael Gaydos

We’ll be coming in strong to PAX Unplugged this coming week, with myself and LisaT, Mighty Matt McElroy, Fast Eddy Webb, Dangerous Dixie Cochran, Neall Raemonn Price, Meghan Fitzgerald, Travis Legge, Danielle Lauzon, and Crystal Mazur attending!

Dixie, LisaT, Matt, and myself will be in our booth handing out our new brochure and answering questions – but most of all, we’ll be directing folks to, and signing them up for, demos in both the booth and at our demo table in the gaming area.

Our table is in Area 119a, we’ve been told, in fact! Look right there in this handy map! (Thanks, Ian!)

Right now, the menu for gaming with the rest of our crew is:

Meghan: Changeling: the Lost 2e and Contagion Chronicle

Neall: Scion Hero 2e and Mummy: the Curse 2e

Danielle: Trinity Continuum and Dystopia Rising: Evolution

Eddy: Pugmire and Fetch Quest

Travis: Scarred Lands and Legendlore 

Crystal: Monarchies of Mau and Chicago by Night

Matt: Scarred Lands and Cavaliers of Mars

So come on by if you want to sit in on a game and we’ll get you scheduled! Plus, with the brochure, we’ll be announcing at least one secret project, and we’ll be glad to answer questions about that.

We’ll also be directing anyone who wants to buy our games to right across the aisle from us at Studio2 – which is just darn convenient! Let me underline that: we aren’t selling books at our booth, Studio2 is selling them for us! Here’s another handy map:

Looking forward to seeing a bunch of you folks there – it is a very cool con!

Now, here’s some follow-ups for some things I mentioned last week:

The Pugmire Wolfenoot sale went really well, and both Pugsteady and Onyx Path were able to send nice-sized donations to the Guide Dog Foundation for the Blind! Thanks to all of you who participated in the sale and helped us help them!

Our Reddit AMA went fantastically for about 5 hours and many, many, in-depth questions were asked and answered. Thanks to all of you that participated and if you have any further questions and are at PAX Unplugged, we’ll be glad to continue the conversations! I’ll be there with bells on – well, at least one bell!

They Came From Beneath the Sea! illustration by Eric Lofgren

Last Friday’s Onyx Pathcast started out normally, but then exploded into a frenzy of creative ideas and after the dust settled (or the verbal equivalent) Dixie, Matthew, and Eddy had brain-stormed six new games!

Their titles are:

* Game 1: Envelopes and Urban Legends * Game 2: The Calamari of Crime * Game 3: Super Dragon Dining Crisis Tensai: Apocalypse Ultima EX * Game 4: Universal Faultlines * Game 5: Barn Raising * Game 6: Love in the Time of Androids

You really have to listen to get the actual details of these games, and the wacky yet very typical way that they were conceptualized by the Trio, but even the titles give you some idea of the range of genres and approaches they played around with.

While I was listening – like I do every week, Matthew – it struck me that while the gang were riffing pretty wildly, the process is really very typical for a lot of our creative meetings. For years we’ve tried to use the rules of Improv in our game brainstorming. Like, don’t negate what the last person threw out to the group, try and build upon it.

The old “Yes, and…” rather than “No”.

There’s more than enough time to apply critical or realistic thinking to the ideas, first you need to let the ideas pour out.

(And this is actually not easy to do! A lot of our Onyx Path crew are extremely realistic about the challenges inherent to creating projects, and have very strong opinions and likes and dislikes (hard to believe, I know), so holding those comments back can run against our very natures.)

But as you can tell with this Pathcast, or with my riffing with Matthew half a year ago in the UK GamesExpo edition of the Pathcast where we combined Transformers, Thomas the Tank Engine, and Scion, there’s something innately and deeply fun and satisfying to just letting loose with our imaginations!

Which is, I think, the single greatest part of the TTRPG hobby, and why so many of us love it so much. And, in our case at Onyx Path, why we are so excited to create:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

Kickstarter!

The Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition Kickstarter is now IN ITS LAST WEEK and has passed 200% funding and has over 1000 backers with over a week to go. Backers have already unlocked the Mummy 2e Screen as a Stretch Goal, additional Utterances, and a whole new project: the Mummy 2e Companion!

Please check out this blog from several weeks ago for a description of all the amazing features of this new edition!

Be there to witness the majesty and terror of this new version of Mummy: The Curse! https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/339646881/mummy-the-curse-2nd-edition

Next Kickstarter: V5 Cults of the Blood Gods!

Onyx Path Media!

This Friday’s Onyx Pathcast features an interview with fabulous freelancer Lauren Roy! Available on Podbean or on your favorite podcast venue!

It’s another busy week for Onyx Path and our merry band of fantastic streamers on Twitch this week, with games of Vampire: The Masquerade, Pugmire, Scarred Lands, Aberrant, Changeling: The Lost, Hunter: The Vigil, and more random drop-in games taking place all the time! If you’re subscribed to our channel, you can find some of last week’s games, including Scion as run by Neall Raemonn Price, developer of the game!

What’s more, if you’re a fan of Scion, be sure to check out The Gentleman’s Guide to Scion over on Matthew Dawkins’ YouTube channel! It’s only on the second video so far, so there’s plenty of time to catch up. Check out youtube.com/user/clackclickbang

Please find us, follow us, and subscribe to us on twitch.tv/theonyxpath If Twitch isn’t your jam, maybe YouTube is! We’re steadily migrating all our content from Twitch to YouTube, but there’s new videos too! Travis Legge and Matthew Dawkins like to dive bomb the news onto different channels at different times, just to keep everyone on their toes, and this week it’ll be on YouTube again! Subscribe to youtube.com/user/theonyxpath

On redmoonroleplaying.com, Klara Herbol runs Vampire: The Masquerade for Matthew Dawkins and the Red Moon Roleplaying team, while Matthew runs Mummy: The Curse for John Burke, Bianca Savazzi, and Craig Austin from Red Moon! Lots of actual plays of tremendous quality there, for you to check out and enjoy.

Occultists Anonymous are back with more Mage: The Awakening fun right here

Episode 62: Another Round of Darts  The cabal’s plans are interrupted by the arrival of an old acquaintance and have to clean up a mess that isn’t their fault…  https://youtu.be/_JZyq57KNOo

Episode 63: Taking It Offline  The cabal meet with the Phantasm Society in hiding and plan how to stop the Hunters before they become more of a problem.https://youtu.be/zlSrGhu1Eis

The Story Told Podcast interviewed our very own Ian Watson regarding the Trinity Continuum:  http://thestorytold.libsyn.com/episode-41-aeon-interview-with-ian-watson 

And did you miss Mage: The Podcast interviewing Matthew Dawkins about Technocracy Reloaded and other books? Never fear, the interview is right here: https://magethepodcast.com/index.php/2019/11/24/m5-meditations-metanarrative-tools-and-mummy-with-matthew-dawkins/

Drop Matthew a message via the contact button on matthewdawkins.com if you have actual plays, reviews, or game overviews you want us to profile on the blog!

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

Electronic Gaming!

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

On Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these latest fiction books:

Our Sales Partners!

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scarred Lands (Pathfinder) books are also on sale at Studio2, and they have the 5e version, supplements, and dice as well!: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/scarred-lands

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And NOW Scion Origin and Scion Hero are available to order!

As always, you can find most of Onyx Path’s titles at DriveThruRPG.com!

There’s still time to join DTRPG‘s massive sale for Cyber Monday!

https://www.storytellersvault.com/featured.php?promotion_id=CybeM19STV

https://www.drivethrurpg.com/blackfriday.php?manufacturers_id=4261

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, we are proud to announce the PDF and physical book PoD versions of both the Trinity Continuum Core Rulebook and Trinity Continuum: Aeon core book are available on DTRPG!

Conventions!

PAX Unplugged: December 6th – 8th, in Philadelphia, PA. We’re going to have lots and lots of gaming for folks to sign up for, a lot of them featuring our game creators! See maps and things above! 2020: Midwinter: January 9th – 12th, in Milwaukee, WI. Check out David Fuller’s Athens, Ohio Scion actual play tie-in adventure (soon to be coming to the Storypath Nexus community content site) that will be running at Midwinter. The event url is below: https://tabletop.events/conventions/midwinter-gaming-convention-2020/schedule/402

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

N!ternational Wrestling Entertainment (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Creating in the Realms of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Contagion Chronicle Ready-Made Characters (Chronicles of Darkness)

Trinity Continuum: Adventure! core (Trinity Continuum: Adventure!)

Duke Rollo fiction (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Redlines

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Second Draft

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

Player’s Guide to the Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Contagion Chronicle Jumpstart (Chronicles of Darkness)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Development

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

TC: Aberrant Reference Screen (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Lunars Novella (Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Manuscript Approval

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

Titanomachy (Scion 2nd Edition)

Post-Approval Development

Scion LARP Rules (Scion)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Editing

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

Let the Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Geist 2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Mythical Denizens (Creatures of the World Bestiary) (Scion 2nd Edition)

Pirates of Pugmire KS-Added Adventure (Realms of Pugmire)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad (Scarred Lands)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Wraith20 Fiction Anthology (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Post-Editing Development

Chicago Folio/Dossier (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

TC: Aeon Ready-Made Characters (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

Oak, Ash, and Thorn: Changeling: The Lost 2nd Companion (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

W20 Shattered Dreams Gift Cards (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

TC: Aeon Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Vigil Watch (Scarred Lands)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Indexing

ART DIRECTION FROM MIKE CHANEY!

In Art Direction

Contagion Chronicle – Going over sketches.

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant

Hunter: The Vigil 2e – Reviewing art that’s already in.

Ex3 Lunars – Just need two artists’ pieces in.

TCfBtS!: Heroic Land Dwellers

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed – Contacting two more artists.

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

Cults of the Blood God (KS) – Art all seems ready.

Chicago Folio – Got cover in this morning.

Mummy 2 (KS) – Going.

City of the Towered Tombs

Let the Streets Run Red – Going over artnotes and dividing stuff up.

CtL Oak Ash and Thorn – Awaiting artnotes.

Scion Mythical Denizens – Going over sketches.

Deviant

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad – Sending out art notes and contracts.

Vigil Watch – Awaiting artnotes.

In Layout

Chicago Folio

Trinity Continuum Aeon: Distant Worlds – Haven’t forgotten it.

VtR Spilled Blood – Josh is working on it.

Pirates of Pugmire

Proofing

Memento Mori – Awaiting Dev comments.

Dark Eras 2 – Aileen working up the cover.

Trinity Continuum Aeon Jumpstart

M20 Book of the Fallen – Backer PDF errata is with Josh.

They Came from Beneath the Sea!

At Press

Trinity: In Media Res – PoD proofs coming.

V5: Chicago – Shipping to the KS fulfillment shippers. PoD files up and processing.

Aeon Aexpansion – PoD proofs coming.

Geist 2e (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition) – At press, proofs signed off on.

Geist 2e Screen – At press, waiting for proofs.

DR:E – At press, waiting for proofs.

DRE Screen – At press, waiting for proofs.

DR:E Threat Guide – Helnau’s Guide to Wasteland Beasties – PoD proof on the way.

Trinity RMCs

Tales of Good Dogs – Putting up PoD files.

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

Celebrating Wikipedia-weirdness, in that it’s really easy to see (and construct) all sorts of patterns from the items in it. Like these all here on December 2nd, Cuba’s Armed Forces Day:

1956 – The Granma reaches the shores of Cuba’s Oriente Province. Fidel Castro, Che Guevara and 80 other members of the 26th of July Movement disembark to initiate the Cuban Revolution.

1961 – In a nationally broadcast speech, Cuban leader Fidel Castro declares that he is a Marxist–Leninist and that Cuba is going to adopt Communism.

1976 – Fidel Castro becomes President of Cuba, replacing Osvaldo Dorticós Torrado.

1986 – Death of Desi Arnaz, Cuban-American actor, singer, businessman, and television producer (b. 1917)

Busy date!

[schoolcalidity]

Better to be Jews than Christians

Better to be Jews than Christians

Anton de Montoro and the Spanish Converts

By Jeffrey Gorsky

(adapted from a chapter in my history: Jewish Blood, the Tragedy of the Iberian Jews.)

The 15th Century Castilian Anton de Montoro was the most representative poet of the Spanish "conversos". A convert to Catholicism, he flaunted his Jewish heritage. He dramatized the plight of his fellow converts, victims of discrimination and violent persecution. He wrote about something unique in Jewish history—a community of thousands brought into Catholicism through force or compulsion, trying to fit into their new Christian world.

The conversions came at the end of one of the most successful Jewish periods in human history. For centuries, during the "convivencia", Jews prospered from unprecedented, if limited, tolerance from Muslim and Christian rulers. The Jews exploited new opportunities for power, riches, and cultural and scientific encounters. Their success led them to call their land Sepharad, a name from the book of Obadiah that implied that Spanish Jews were the successors to the Jews of Israel.

This world ended in 1391. A rogue priest named Ferran Martinez incited mobs to riot throughout Spain with the slogan "Convert or die". When the violence ended, further State and Church repression followed. After 20 years of repression, a third to half of the Spanish Jews had converted.

These "conversos" quickly achieved enormous success. They obtained high public office, rose to the top of the Church hierarchy, and married into the aristocracy. But their success bred resentment. During 60 years of civil war and instability, they became handy scapegoats. They inherited the hatred and resentment traditionally directed against Jews. This led to violent anti-Convert riots, mostly centered in Southern Spain.

By the reign of Enrique IV (half-brother to his successor, Queen Isabella), most conversos had been Christian for two generations or more. This new generation had much less solidarity as conversos than their previously converted forefathers. The instinct of Jews and early conversos to side with the King for protection led the first generation to side almost unanimously with King Juan II and his principal minister Alvaro de Luna—but Luna sold them out. When Juan's son Enrique inherited both the throne and civil unrest, conversos were on all sides of the new civil wars: some stuck by the King, some sided with his brother Prince Alfonso, while others supported the untrustworthy minister Don Pacheco even after he showed he could be as treasonous to conversos as he was to the King.

The new political loyalties of the conversos reflected their assimilation and adoption of Old Christian manners. But while the conversos rejected Judaism (whether through free-will or compulsion) they were still distrusted and discriminated against by Old Christians. This blocked full assimilation. Conversos developed their own perspective and customs. This soon became an important force in Spanish art and culture.

The converso perspective first erupted through humor. The court jester, or truhan, became a feature of the Court in the 15th Century. The jesters were largely or wholly conversos. This may have been in part due to the Jewish cultural acceptance of humor. It also reflected the conversos marginal status—it was easier for Old Christians to make fun of these former Jews, and they in turn could look more skeptically and satirically at Castilian society.

A school of poetry developed during this period, with the poets called the Cancieneros, or songsters. While these poets wrote in a wide variety of styles, much of their poetry was burlesque, jester poetry written to entertain and gain the patronage of the royal court and grandees.

Many if not most of these poets were conversos. Among them, Anton de Montoro stood out as the cancionero poet who most openly admitted to his Jewish heritage. He dramatized the plight of the converso, and protested the killings and discrimination conversos suffered in Castile.

Born a Jew around 1404 in or near Cordoba, Montoro probably converted around the time of the anti-Jewish legislation of 1414. His Jewish name was Saul, and his mother remained Jewish.

He became known as the "Ropero", or clothes peddler. Trade had a low status in Castilian society, and this trade was particularly low. A tailor could service the aristocracy, and anyone with money would have clothes made-to-order. A seller of used or ready made clothes only serviced those too poor to buy fashionable wear.

He became known as a poet late in life. His first known poems date from the 1440s, when he obtained the patronage of the dominant aristocrat of Cordoba. He became one of the most successful poets of his day, engaging in poetry duels or correspondence with other well-known poets, and leaving a reasonably substantial estate.

Montoro may have stressed his low class and Jewish background partly as a pose. Like jesters, the comic cancioneros poked fun at themselves. Juan Baena, for example, a prominent converso poet, pointed to his physical ugliness and short-stature.1 Montoro's low-class occupation and Jewish background allowed, like a physical defect, for self-deprecating humor.

Montoro often satirized his Jewish descent. In a poem to his wife, he notes that they were well matched as conversos, and that he won the match because she was considered unworthy for any reputable Christian:

"You and I and to have but little worth, we had better both pervert a single house only, and not two. For [wishing] to enjoy a good husband would be a waste of time for you, and an offense to good reason; So I, old, dirty, and meek, will caress a pretty woman."2

As a comic poet of his era, he could be bawdy even by our standards. One of his poems is called, To the Woman Who Is All Tits and Ass (Montoro a Una Mujer Que Todo Era Tetas Y Culo)3. In Montoro to the Woman Who Called Him Jew, his response to what a woman meant as an insult is to refer to her as a sodomite, implying that the mouth that sent out that insult was used to perform oral sex.4

In several poems, without entirely abandoning the satiric voice, he bitterly protested the mistreatment of the conversos. After the attacks on the conversos in Carmona, he addressed King Enrique IV: "What death can you impose on me/That I have not already suffered?"5

The massacre of conversos in his hometown of Cordoba elicited a lengthy and complicated poem to Alonso de Aguilar, the aristocrat who after befriending the conversos deserted them during the attack and then allowed them to be exiled and barred from public office: "Montoro to Don Alonso de Aguilar on the Destruction of the Conversos of Cordoba". The poem begins as a fulsome panegyric to Aguilar, possibly reflecting Montoro's need to continue to live under Aguilar's protection in Cordoba. Only after eight verses of praising Aguilar does Montoro turn to the massacre, noting that after this disaster "it would serve the conversos better to be Jews than Christians."6

By verse 19, he praises the Grandee, and abjectly begs mercy for the conversos: "We want to give you tributes, be your slaves and serve you, we are impoverished, cuckolded, faggots, deceived, open to any humiliation only to survive." In the next verse, Motoro describes himself as "wretched, the first to wear the livery of the blacksmith" (the man who started the anti-converso riots). He pleads for the grandee's mercy, while he remains "starving, naked, impoverished, cuckold, and ailing."7

It has been suggested that this poem is an ironic attack on his former patron. Yet there is no apparent irony in the poem. The main attitude seems to be helpless despair in wake of the destruction of his fellow converts.

His best-known depiction of the plight of the conversos comes in his poem dedicated to Queen Isabel:

"O sad, bitter clothes-peddler [ropero] who does not feel your sorrow! Here you are, seventy years of age, and have always said [to the Virgin]: "you remained immaculate," and have never sworn [directly] by the Creator. I recite the credo, I worship pots full of greasy pork, I eat bacon half-cooked, listen to Mass, cross myself while touching holy waters-- and never could I kill these traces of the confeso.

With my knees bent and in great devotion in days set for holiness I pray, rosary in hand, reciting the beads of the Passion, adoring the God-and-Man as my highest Lord,"8 Yet for all the Christian things I do I'm still called that old faggot Jew.

The epitath at the end of the verse, "puto Judio" is a generic insult, not an imputation of homosexuality—it is the worst insult in the language: "behind the sodomite, bearer of pestilence, is the outline of the converso. They are joined in the worst popular insult that could be hurled: 'faggot Jew!.'. 9 "The English translation of "puto judio" cannot fully convey the pejorative sense of this masculinization of "puta," which figures the Jewish male subject both as a whore and as the passive partner in the homosexual act. " 10

The poem ends with a chilling prediction of the soon to be established auto-da-fe: He asks Queen Isabella, if she must burn conversos, to do it at Christmastime, when the warmth of the fire will be better appreciated.

Montoro evaded the Inquisition. He died soon after writing the poem, probably before the Inquisition came into force. He showed his lack of respect for the Church by leaving it only a nominal sum in his will. His wife was not as fortunate: she was burned as a heretic before April, 1487.11

As an artist, Montoro represents both a dead-end and a harbinger. He was a dead-end because with the imposition of the Spanish Inquisition and the purity of blood laws, conversos after him could no longer proudly point to their Jewish roots. That attitude would lead to being burned to death as a heretic. Converso artists turned instead to secrecy and indirection. It is no coincidence that the two most important works by conversos, La Celestina and Lazarillo de Tormes (both classics of world literature), were both initially published anonymously.

He was a harbinger in that the attitudes he and other cancioneros embraced: irony, irreverence, and the use of low class characters to attack the pretensions of the higher classes, would soon inspire a much more important genre. Picaresque literature came out of the cancionero tradition.12 The picaresque novel, in its turn, was to become part of the foundation of modern literature.

1

Francisco Marquez Villanueva, "Jewish 'Fools' of the Spanish Fifteenth Century",

Hispanic Review

, V. 50, No. 4 (Autumn, 1982), P. 393.

2 Yirmihayu Yovel, "Converso Dualities in the First Generation: The Cancioneros", Jewish Social Studies, V.4, N. 3 (1998), P. 4-5.

3 Montoro, Antón de. Poesía completa. Ed. Marithelma Costa. Cleveland: Cleveland State University Press, 1990., Poem No. 12

4 Ibid, poem No. 10

5 Marquez Villanueva, P. 403.

6 Montoro, Antón de. Poesía completa, P. 23

7 Ibid, P. 29-30

8 Yovel, P. 5-6

9 Barbara Weissberger "A Tierra, Puto!", in Queer Iberia, (Duke University Press, 1999), p. 294

10 Ibid, P. 316

11 Marquez Villanueva, P. 397

12 Victoriano Roncero Lopez, "Lazarillo, Guzman and Buffoon Literature", MLN 116 (2001), P. 237.

This article is adapted from a chapter in my draft history: Jewish Blood, The Tragedy of the Iberian Jews, about the Spanish Heine, Anton de Montoro, who dramatized the plight of the forced converts in 15th Century Spain.

[mostlystuckony]

Prompt from my friend @fandoms-are-my-lifestyle

Can I have “staggering or walking ungracefully before they can catch themselves”, “Shivering long after everyone else has stopped”, and “Scared to sleep around others because of nightmares” for 500, please? (About Tony)

(From this handy whump bingo board)

Tony was really having an off day.

He wasn't sure when the actual day had started exactly, because it'd been a while since he'd last slept, but at some point everything had gone to shit.

It had started with the battle alarm going off. Wait, no. It had started when he spilled coffee all over himself right before the alarm went off.  And Dum-E’s reaction had been to drench him with the fire extinguisher. 

There'd been no time to change and Tony had been forced to go into battle with stained wet clothes.

He'd gone upstairs to find the rest of the team assembled already.

Bruce frowned as Tony stumbled towards them, but he didn't have time to say anything before Steve was mother henning them.

"Iron Man." He said.

"Still Tony, not in the suit yet." Tony answered, falling into place beside Natasha, who was already suited up. He almost tripped, regained his balance a little, and started to teeter. Nat caught him by the arm, giving him a slightly concerned side-glance.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Tony then. You're going to need to suit up. The mission is in the middle of nowhere, and it's cold."

"Don't worry Cap, I've got insulated heating. I'll be fine. Everyone else's winter gear is functioning, right?"

There were murmurs of assent from everyone.

"Alright then." Steve said, "let's head out. Tony, you fly ahead of the quinjet and let us know what we're up against."

"On it."

Tony called the suit and took off to the coordinates that Jarvis so helpfully provided him with. (He might have dozed off on the way a little, sue him. Jarvis was an excellent co-pilot)

"Okay, Iron Man, what are we looking at?" Steve’s voice came through his comm.

Tony scanned the snow-covered ground with every special feature his armour had. "I'm not seeing anything. What did the call say?"

"It just called for The Avengers to come to these coordinates. Said it was the world ending type of situation. The call came directly from S.H.I.E.L.D."

"There's gotta be something." Tony muttered to himself.

Without warning, the Iron Man suit shut off completely, and Tony started to fall. "Cap? I'm being knocked out of the sky!" 

There was no response. Tony realized that of course, if the suit wasn't functioning, neither was his communications.  He could do nothing except watch the ground rush up to him.

Tony hit the ground landing face-up. Luckily, he hadn't been flying all that high, and the snow made for a semi-soft landing.

Within five minutes, the air was full of the sound of the quinjet. Tony, stuck in his immobile armour, couldn't signal to them, but his suit stood out starkly enough against the white landscape.

Tony could only watch helplessly as the plane hit presumably the same spot he had, and went down.

Luckily, due to inertia, Tony wasn't crushed. The plane crashed down literal inches from where he was laying.

For a few heartstopping seconds, Tony wondered if they'd all been injured in the collison. Then the emergency side door was forcefully opened, and Steve came tumbling out.

"Tony? Tony!" Steve plowed through the snow and dropped at Tony's side, ripping off the face plate.

"Yeah yeah, I'm all good." Tony reassured him. "I'm just a little bit stuck . . . "

"How do I get you out of there?" Steve asked determinedly.

Behind him, Tony could see Thor and Clint exiting the quinjet and coming over, Clint looking back apprehensively.

"There's a manual unlocking mechanism under a panel on the side." Tony told him. "You know, so that I won't accidentally get ejected out of it during battle."

"But you're not hurt?" Steve asked. He found the panel. The armour collapsed into the snow, leaving Tony completely exposed.

"I will be if I don't get out of this cold." Tony said, gritting his teeth and wrapping his arms around himself to stave off the shivering. He could already feel his chest and stiff joints aching more from the cold.

Thor muscled his way forwards, scooping Tony up and carrying him towards the plane.

"Thank you." Tony huddled into the god's chest, greatfull for the extra warmth.

"Wait!" Clint said, "Nat was calming the big guy down so he wouldn't wreck anything."

All four men stared at the quinjet apprehensively.

Natasha poked her head out. "It's all clear!" She called. "You guys going to just stand there and freeze?"

Inside the quinjet was warmer than the outside, but it was quickly dropping. Steve had kicked the door open, thereby damaging it and now it couldn't close completely. Tony had the bright idea of stuffing it with something, and Thor obligingly took off his asgardian scarf and offered it up.

Bruce wasn't looking too hot.

"Is everyone okay?" Tony asked.

"I just got really startled." Bruce was clearly feeling extremely guilty.

"It's fine." Natasha told him. "The Hulk didn't smash anything or hurt anyone."

"Barton, Romanoff. You're both okay?" Tony persisted.

"Yeah, I wasn't flying us too high." Clint assured him. "We were planning on unrealistically jumping out of the plane like badasses and into the battle."

"There is no battle here." Thor boomed.

All of them looked at each other uneasily. Thor was right. There was just white snow stretching out for as far as any of them could see.

"Hey, Tony?" Natasha said.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

Tony frowned. "Why wouldn't I be-"

"You're shivering." She interrupted.

"Nat's right." Bruce squinted at him. "And your clothes are wet. Why are they wet? You were outside like that, even if it was just for a minute."

Oh. Right, the continuing of the bad. (besides for being knocked out of the sky and sent on what was apparently a false mission) Wet clothes in the cold = pneumonia, Tony's brain informed him

"Shit." He muttered.

"You need to change." Cap said. He didn't even reprimand Tony's language, which meant he was really worried. "Now, Tony."

"I-I don't think theres any other clothes here," the genius said, teeth chattering. He swore he could feel the damp parts of his clothing stiffening and turning to ice.

"Take your shirt off." Natasha ordered.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Do it." Bruce agreed.

Tony shrugged his T-shirt off, very self conscious of the arc-reactor and the scars surrounding it. Clint handed him the shock blanket that was most often used by Bruce post-battle.

Wrapping it around himself, Tony glared at them. "I'm not taking the bottom half off. I'm pretty sure my underwear is wet and as much as I'm sure all of you would enjoy it, I'm not stripping in front of you."

"I have an extra pair of pants." Bruce said, "courtesy of the Hulk. Please keep the underpants on though."

"We won't peek, promise." Clint said, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that implied he'd definitely be peeking. Nat elbowed him.

Tony gingerly shimmied out of his pants, trying to keep the blanket somewhat draped around him both to keep warm and protect his teammates eyes.

He felt a little better once his legs were dry, but he was still shivering more violently than ever.

"So does anyone have an idea of what made everything stop working?" Clint asked

"It must have been an EMP." Tony said. "Which means someone wants to keep us here."

He was uncomfortably aware that EMP’s rendered only him useless.  Cap still had the shield, Bruce could still Hulk-out, Clint could manually reach his arrows, even without the electric swivelling quiver, Nat still had knives and Thor could still use his hammer.  The suit on the other hand, was now reduced to a hunk of metal.

Everyone tensed, glancing towards the windows nervously.

"I'm going to check storage, see if we have any more knives." Natasha said.

"Guys, look at this." She came back a minute later, a note in hand.

"It says, 'Enjoy your team bonding session. -Fury'" Steve read.

"And the storage unit is full of pillows and blankets." Said Natasha.

"Well that's just great." Tony said.

Steve's face contorted in worry and he went to the back of the plane, rummaged through storage, and handed Tony a blanket.

"If we're going to be here for a while then we need to figure out how to keep warm."

"Cap and Thor. You guys generate more body heat than the rest of us, so prepare to become our personal heaters." Natasha announced.

"This'll be fun." Clint chimed in. "Like a slumber party."

"We should hang some of the blankets over the window to insulate it." Bruce said.

"But then some of us shall be blanket-less!" Thor protested.

"It's actually a better idea for us to share blankets and cuddle. It'll conserve body heat." Bruce told him causually.

Thor brightened instantly. "On Asgard cuddling is considered the best way to bond with our brothers and sisters! I shall much enjoy cuddling with you, friend Bruce."

Tony wasn't sure if it was the lighting or what, but Bruce looked like he might be blushing.

"And the rest of you, of course." Thor added.

"Alright." Cap conceded. "Window insulation and team cuddling it is."

"And um." Bruce shifted uncomfortably. "The absolutely best way to conserve body heat is to cuddle naked."

"Oh hell no," said Natasha. "No offense but I'm not getting naked with any of you." Then she sent a considering glance around the cabin. "At least not in this current situation."

"None taken." Steve said. "But us guys can take our shirts off if you're okay with that?"

Natasha nodded. "That's fine."

"Oh joy, Thor and Cap shirtless." Tony muttered. Clint looked a little insulted.

"Tony, you're coming over here." Steve said. He gathered the scientist up in his arms.

"Wait, What's happening?" Tony asked, squirming and bewildered.

Clint handed Steve another blanket, which he wrapped around him and Tony. "You're still shivering." He said patiently. "I'm going to warm you up, is all."

Tony huddled reluctantly into Steve. He wasn't so cool with so much touching from people besides for Pepper and Rhodey.

But Steve was warm, so there was that.

"We should play a game or something." Clint said, after the sheet had been put over the window and everyone was cuddled in close to each other.

Everyone looked at him.

“What?  It’s supposed to be team bonding anyways, and it’s going to be really boring sitting around and doing nothing.”

“He’s right.”  Natasha shrugged.  “Never have I ever?”

“I do not know of this game, but I shall be pleased to learn!”  said Thor. 

“Can we at least try to keep it clean?”  Bruce pleaded.  

“There’s no fun in clean games, Brucey,” Tony said, shaking his head.

Surprisingly, Tony felt Steve’s chest rumble with a laugh behind him.  Huh, maybe the captain wasn’t such a tightass after all. 

That was how Tony’s terrible day started coming to an end.  First though, the worst part had to happen. 

The night itself had been fun. Snacking on food they had found in the storage room, they played not only never have I ever, but also truth or dare (mostly just truth, since nobody wanted to get up) and exchanged a lot of childhood stories.

That last bit had turned sharply into a DMC since they’d all had fairly shitty childhoods, with the exception of Thor. 

Finally the conversation had dwindled and Steve insisted they all get some sleep.  

The quinjet seriously looked like something out of a teen sleepover.  There were pillows spread all across the space to serve as one huge makeshift mattress.  Everyone was draped over each other, surprisingly at ease, and fast asleep.

Well, everyone except for Tony.  He could feel sleep pulling at him, and sure, maybe he hadn’t actually gotten any rest in several days but he couldn’t fall asleep.  He just couldn’t.  

Tony avoided sleeping at all if he could help it, but one thing he wouldn’t compromise on was sleeping in front of others. The nightmares were bad enough without an audience to experience his pitiful whimpers and screaming himself awake.

Pepper had already left him when she found out.  First she was mad he wasn’t sleeping, then she was mad he kept accidentally waking her up.  

She had started off consoling and supportive, but in time it had turned into “I can’t do this Tony.  We can’t be together if we can’t even sleep in the same room.”

Tony shuddered, remembering how much worse the nightmares had gotten when he realized she wasn’t there when he woke up.  The dreams about losing her had almost tripled.  

He’d gotten over that eventually, though. Now all his terror centered around flying into the portal alone, sure he was going to die, Afganistan, and the team abandoning him.   

“Tony?” Steve whispered.  “Are you still awake?”

For a second Tony considered not answering and pretending to be asleep but he was sure Steve wouldn’t have asked unless he was sure Tony was up.

“Yeah, Can’t sleep.”  Tony tried to pass it off as nothing important. 

“Are you warm enough?” 

To Tony’s dismay, Steve started sitting up, and the other Avengers began stirring.

“No! dont-”

“Go to sleep Tony.”  Clint mumbled.

“I can’t.”  Tony hissed. To his everlasting shame, tears began forming in his eyes.  It had to be the exhaustion. Everyone cried a little when they were  massively sleep deprived. 

“Why are we awake again?”  Bruce sat up, disentangling himself from Thor and Natasha, rubbing his eyes.

“Tony can’t sleep.”  Nat told him.

“Tell us what ails you, friend Anthony.  Thor said, his voice surprisingly gentle.

“It’s nothing.  Insomnia.”  Tony muttered, refusing to look any of them in the eyes. 

“It’s more than that.”  Steve frowned.  “C’mon, you can tell us.”

“Is it nightmares?”  Natasha asked quietly.

Reluctantly, Tony nodded.  

Thor reached for him and started rocking Tony in his ginormous arms.

“Um. What are you doing, big guy?”  Clint asked cautiously.  

Tony was too caught off guard to speak. 

“Loki used to have many a nightmare when he was younger.”  Thor explained.  “This always managed to soothe him.”

“How long has it been since you slept?”  Bruce asked.

“I don’t even know.”  Tony admitted.  “Jarvis would know.”

“You need sleep.”  Steve said firmly.

“I told you already, I can’t.”  Tony said desperately. 

“Because you’ll have nightmares?” Steve asked.

“Yes!”

“We all have nightmares, Tony.”  Clint said quietly.  “I dream about being controlled by Loki almost every night.”  He glance at Thor. “Uh. No offense.”

“None taken.”  Thor assured him.

“Sometimes I dream about all the people I killed.”  Natasha confessed.

“Me too.”  Bruce said.

“I dream about the plane going down, and  losing Bucky, and sometimes about losing you guys.”  Steve said quietly.  

Tony looked at him, speechless. 

“Sometimes I have to yell myself awake.”  Bruce told him. “It’s okay if you do too.”

Tony wanted to protest, but Natasha sat next to Thor and started carding her fingers through his hair, and he helplessly succumbed to their gentle comfort. 

And if he woke up gasping, sure that he was dying, someone was there to calm him down and help him get back to sleep.  

He also wasn’t the only one.  Clint woke up and immediately reached for his bow before realizing where he was.  Steve woke up yelling “Bucky!”  and Bruce curled into him comfortingly.

In the morning, Fury pried the quinjet door open and found them tangled in a mess of limbs and smiled, because their forced team bonding had been far more succesfull than he’d imagined.

It was totally worth the way all of them tried to kill him the second they woke up. 

[d-noona]

BODYGUARD MISSION

SUMMARY: Y/N had teased him, insulted him, but still she seemed to be stuck with Park Jimin as her official chaperone. He'd been appointed to look after her during a crucial assignment in Korea, and he refused to leave her sight - day and night. Jimin was taking this bodyguard business far too seriously. Just because Y/N was pretty and petite, that didn't mean she isn't a force to be reckoned with. She would not be seduced by Jimin. At least, that was the idea. Until her twenty-four-hour bodyguard decided the safest place for her was his bed.

WORDS: 1719

Park Jimin x Reader

CHAPTER 02 - Coming Soon!

CHAPTER 01 – THE AIRPORT

“Damn!” Y/N thought angrily, and exclaimed, “But I won’t need an interpreter.”

“Do you speak Korean?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do,” she said triumphantly. But then she looked into her boss’s skeptical eyes, reluctantly added, “A little.” “How little?” asked her boss. She gave him one of her sudden smiles, her brown eyes lighting with mischief. “Enough to say no if I’m propositioned.” He laughed, wanting to be serious but unable to resist her smile. “But do you speak enough Korean to recognize a proposition if you hear one?”

“One could be deaf and dumb and still recognize that!” He shook his head at her and said, “I know you’re a capable career woman and all the rest of it, but I’m not going to risk letting you go in Korea without someone keeping an eye on you.” Y/N hated the sound of that; she had reasons, important and secret reasons –of her own for going to Korea that had nothing to do with the assignment she’d been given, and to have someone looking over her shoulder would be inconvenient to say the least. But it was important not to jeopardize the trip so, to keep the boss sweet, she smiled and said, “OK, leave it with me. I’ll find someone out there.”

“No need,” he said with a pleased note. “I already know someone based in Seoul. A family friend, I suppose you could call him. His name is Park Jimin and he works for a bank that’s opening up a branch over there. He speaks the language, plus he can communicate in English, and will give you all the help you need. I’ll have him meet you when you arrive.”

“Wonderful.” Y/N enthused, while inwardly cursing, and she determined to get rid of this extremely unwanted man at the first opportunity. She thought the opportunity would present itself at Seoul Airport. Surely in the bustle of a huge international concourse it would be possible to lose herself in the crowd, slip into a taxi and so free herself of her boss’s pal right at the start. There was bustle, all right. There was complete chaos, and that was even before Y/N got through the concourse. Everybody seemed to be flying in to Korea that August day, and they were all herded into a great crowd that gradually developed into long queues of passengers waiting to have their visas and passports checked, the officials’ achingly slow and letting only one person through at a time.

Y/N stood in the queue for over two long hours, weighed down by her expensive camera equipment that she didn’t dare rest on the ground in case it got kicked by people pressing all around her. A large man stood on her foot, and a fat woman with elbows made of steel tried to push in front of her, thinking Y/N a soft touch because she was so petite, but received a blazing look from angry brown eyes that stopped her in her tracks. The only compensation in all this, Y/N decided, was that Park Jimin would certainly have given up on her and gone home long before she got through. Once past this barrier she had to join another queue to change some money into Korean Won, retrieve her suitcase, and wait in yet another line to go through the baggage check, so that it was over three hours before Y/N eventually emerged, tired, hot and thirsty, into the main concourse.

She didn’t even bother to look for some middle age man with a very fed-up expression holding up a board with her name on it, but just headed for the welcome air and a taxi. There were a lot of taxis, all looking equally old and unreliable, but before Y/N could get a hand free to hail one, a modern silver grey Mercedes, large and sleek, pulled up at the curb beside her. A man got out, quite young, tall and lean and with thick dark hair. Y/N gave him a glance, made a mental note that Korean men were much better looking than she’d expected, the dismissed him as she tried to attract the attention of a taxi driver by standing on tiptoe to look over the roof of the Merc and wave.

“Miss L/N?

Y/N blinked, and slowly turned. The man from the Mercedes, in his immaculate dark suit, was looking at her expectantly. She thought of denying her identity but there was no way this man could be a buddy of her boss, who was not only well into his fifties but had the middle-aged belly to go with it. “Yes,” she acknowledged guardedly. He held out a hand. “I’m Park Jimin. Welcome to Korea.”

Slowly, with inner chagrin, she put her hand in his and had it briskly shaken. He was very businesslike, opening the passenger door for her, putting her case and camera equipment in the boot, ignoring the blare of an impatient taxi horn, getting in and driving away, all within a minute. “How did you know it was me?” she asked, looking at the lean planes of his profile with very mixed feelings. “I was given a description –and then there was all the photography stuff.” Fleetingly Y/N wondered how her boss had described her. Short, long black wavy hair, and sexy probably, knowing him. She had been given no description of the man beside her, and as she had no intention of using him hadn’t asked for one. But maybe it would have been helpful to know in advance that Park Jimin was both good looking and judging by his clothes, the Cartier watch on his wrist and the car, he is fairly affluent. His voice, too, was attractive, being smooth and with the unmistakable accent of a good school.

“I thought you’d given up on me after the hold up at the airport” she remarked. “What hold up?” he asked. Y/N gave a small gasp. “I was queuing in there for over three hours! I thought the officials had gone on a work to rule, or something.” Jimin gave her an amused glance. “No, it’s always like that. I didn’t bother to set out until long after your flight was due. Weren’t you warned?”

“No I wasn’t,” she said feelingly. To her annoyance, he laughed. “That sounds like Bang,” he commented naming her boss. “Is he a close friend of your?” she asked curiously. “No, but he knows my parents quite well. They have shared interest in horse racing.” So that explained the age difference, Y/N realized, guessing that Jimin must be in his mid-twenties, a whole generation younger than her boss. He hadn’t asked her where she wanted to be taken to, so she said “I take it were going somewhere particular?”

“To your hotel” says Jimin. “I haven’t chosen one yet,” she pointed out. “I know, so I’ve booked you into The Shilla Hotel. It’s a luxury five star hotel, modernized, and it’s handy for tours in Seoul.” Y/N frowned at Jimin “But I intended to stay at The Riverside Hotel,” Y/N said frostily, annoyed at his high-handedness. To her further annoyance he gave an amused, almost pitying look. “Believe me, you wouldn’t like it there. It’s where all the communist officials from out of town used to stay. And it’s still very basic.”

“Have you ever thought that perhaps I’d prefer to find out for myself?” she told him stiffly. Another amused glance came her way “Ah, you’re into this feminism thing, are you?” Jimin remarked with casual chauvinism. It was the kind of remark that immediately put her back. Y/N thought of telling him exactly what she thought of his attitude, but the shrugged inwardly and let it go; as she intended to ditch him just as soon as possible there seemed no point in setting him straight. But it made her decide at once that he was the sort of man she had absolutely no time for; one who was still trapped in the time-warp of gender stereotyping.

Lord, he probably even thought that the little woman’s place was still tied to the kitchen sink! Giving him a sideways prejudice glance from under her lashes, Y/N momentary thought that it was a pity he wasn’t her type, because she had to admit that his clear cut features under level eyebrows were more than attractive. And he had the kind of tall, broad-shouldered but slim figure that made clothes look good on him, even elegant. When that adjective came to her mind it caught her by surprise; it wasn’t one she often ascribed to a man but it fitted him exactly. However if there was one kind of man she couldn’t stand it was one who was narrow-minded in his attitude towards women. Y/N had come across it too many times in the past. At first she had fought it, but had come to realize that most of the time she was beating her head against a solid concrete wall.  The poor creatures had chauvinism ingrained into them from the cradle and nothing she could say or do would change it. So now she employed a more subtle method, and where necessary used the chauvinism for her own ends.

And looking at Park Jimin, she decided to do the same now. To use him until she was ready to ditch him and go off on her own secret quest. Smiling inwardly, she turned to look out the window at this new country she’s read so much about. The road were full of cars that belted out choking exhaust fumes. Her thoughts were cut off when he suddenly heard Jimin speak. “You must be extremely good at your job to be given such responsible assignment,” Jimin commented. Flattery and condescension all in one sentence. It would almost be a pleasure to take him down a peg or two. Y/N thought tartly, and id all she’d had to think about was her assignment she might have taken the time to do so, just for the hell of it. But right now she had other, far more important things on her mind. The streets widened into broad thoroughfares, the buildings became grander, and Y/N gave a gasp of pleasure as she caught a glimpse of the beautiful place.