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thebigbadbatswife · 1 year

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Internal Conflict (Part 2 of 3)

Pairing - Batman x F!Hero!Reader Series - Under Your Skin Part 1 here | Part 3 here

Summary - Following the aftermath of your fight with the Dark Knight, you end up recieving a call from him asking you for help on one of his cases. Making you wonder, just what is he up to?

Warnings - Canon typical violence, brief mention of death, major character injury, blood. (If I somehow missed a TW, lmk!)

A/N - Since for October I'll be posting what I've written for Kinktober, Part 3 will be coming sometime during Novemeber simply so it isn't lost in the wave of fics! As always hope you enjoy! 💜

Taglist - At the end of the fic. Please message me if you would like to be added/removed.

Word Count - 5.1k

You sighed softly as you wrapped the towel around your body and walked out of the bathroom. The blinds were open, allowing the early morning sunlight to stream into your bedroom. Something that your cat was taking full advantage of as he was fully stretched out across your bed. You chuckled as you briefly stopped to ruffle his fur, earning you a small chirp as his eyes opened and he greeted you.

“How about some breakfast?” He perked up at that, meowing as he got back up onto his paws and followed you from the bedroom to the kitchen.

Today was going to be a good day, you had decided. Not even Batman was going to get you down. Not that he had been doing much in the ways of talking, or arguing, with you anyway. Of course that was likely down to how good you had become at avoiding him or making sure you had left the room before anyone else. Now the only time he spoke to you was during briefing, the middle of a mission or debriefing.

The injury that you had sustained during Lex’s attack had not only kept you away from your usual superhero duties, but had left quite the scar. Some of your focus over the past few weeks had been on healing and slowly building your strength back up, following the advice that Black Canary had given you. Though you had no actual proof, you suspected that the advice had actually come from Batman. Why he hadn’t just given it to you direct, you didn’t understand. You might hate his guts, but he was still a teammate. And a teammate who was very knowledgeable when it came to the medical side of things. If he had any advice to give in regards to that, then you would listen.

The rest of your focus had been on your equipment and future suits. It was important, not only to be prepared, but to stay a few steps ahead of the bad guys.

Now that your leg was fully healed, you would be returning to the Watchtower today. Though had been talking to everyone, other than Batman, through the group chat that The Flash had set up, it wasn’t the same as seeing everyone in person. You had also missed kicking bad guys’ asses and doing your best to make the world a little bit better.

After you had gotten your cat his breakfast, you proceeded to make yourself something and sat down on your couch. It was rare that you were awake this early. Typically waking up either right before or right after midday. You were curious of what sort of trashy tv was on at this time in the morning. As you flipped through the channels, you came across a talkshow that had Bruce Wayne on as their guest star. You didn’t have a clue as to what had been said, but the host was laughing rather hard. With nothing else to watch, you decided to leave it on while you ate. Besides, he was very easy on the eyes. He was a man that you certainly wouldn’t throw out of your bed.

You scoffed and shook your head. Damn. Was this really what you were doing? Fantasising about a well known womanising billionaire? Dammit, you really needed to get out more. It was just a shame that the superhero lifestyle didn’t really allow for that. You switched the tv off and focused on finishing your breakfast. It wasn’t going to do you any good to dwell on things like that. The life that you had choses was a good one, even if it did get lonely at times.

Once you were finished with breakfast, and had finally gotten dressed, you walked over to your bookcase and pulled on rather inconspicuous book. There were several clicking noises and the bookcase slid back before sliding to the side, revealing a hidden elevator. You stepped inside and pressed one of two buttons. As the doors slid shut, the bookcase slid back into place.

The elevator trip was a long one. It had to be to get from your apartment all the way down to the hidden basement of this building. The money wasn’t yours. At least it hadn’t always been yours. The money, the company, the real estate. All of it had been your father’s, but after his untimely death everything he’d had landed into your lap.

Your father’s death had been the catalyst to your new life as a crimefighter. That was a day that you didn’t like to dwell on for too long. Besides today was supposed to be a good day and it very well couldn’t be if you were wishing you could change the past.

The doors of the elevator dinged as they opened up into your base. It wasn’t the most hightech place, especially when compared to a place like the Watchtower, but it did everything you needed it do. And you weren’t looking to upgrade it right now.

A large black box sat on the centre table. The sight of it made you smile. You had forgotten that was down here. Your new suit. You hadn’t had a chance to try it on before Luthor had injured you. Well what better time to debut it than now?

Your smile was big as you checked yourself out in the mirror. Your friend had done well. Very well. From the colours to the new kevlar weave, it was a hell of a lot better than your last one. And it should hold up nicely against bald rich men and their overly large mechs. Mechs that were definitely compensating for something.

Once you had gone through your gear, making sure you had everything you needed, you left your base and headed for the nearest zeta tube.

The Watchtower was quiet when you arrived. Which wasn’t a surprise, with how early it was. You imagined people had either already gone home, after working all night, or were slowly waking up. Being mindful of that, you kept your steps light and made you way toward the breakroom. As you entered the room you were greeted with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Other than yourself the only other person in the breakroom was Black Canary.

In recent months you and her had become quite close. So close, in fact, that you knew each other’s secret identities. After all, you weren’t just coworkers or allies, you were friends. And it felt good to have friends that you could share the burdens of a superhero life with. As much as you trusted your friend that made your suits, at the same time you knew that there were lots of things that she couldn’t understand.

“Welcome back,” Dinah greeted you as you entered the room. “There’s coffee, if you want any.”

“Thanks, it feels good to be back,” you replied. You made your way over to the coffee machine and poured yourself a cup before joining her at the table.

The two of you spent the morning catching up with each other. It felt good to finally catch up with each other in person. It really wasn’t the same using text on a screen. As you chatted, the door to the breakroom opened and in walked Batman. You took a long drink from your cup, keeping your focus on what Dinah was saying, pretending that he wasn’t there. He didn’t stay in the breakroom for long. Grabbing himself some coffee before leaving again.

She looked between you and the closed door. You thought she was going to ask you what was going on there, you knew the question had to be everyone’s minds. The two of you go from being at each other’s throats to not speaking whatsoever? She didn’t though.

“Me, Ollie and Hal are going to a bar later tonight, if you want to come along as well?” she offered.

It sounded good; a night out with your friends. It had been awhile since you had last been out. Maybe that was what you needed. To go out, get drunk and maybe end up waking up next to a stranger. Something that might help in you in forgetting how it had felt to have sex with him.

You nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great. I would love to. You know, as long as no supervillain tries world domination again.”

Dinah chuckled at that.

The bar was far quieter than you had thought it was going to be. It didn’t look like you were going to be taking anyone back to your hotel room tonight. Which was fine. You were here to hang out with your friends after all. While Dinah, Oliver and Hal had ordered themselves some beers, you had opted for just a soda. The more you had thought about it, the more you hadn’t wanted to get drunk. You would rather to keep a clear and focused mind. Maybe next time.

Right now the four of you were laughing at Hal’s rather on point impression of Batman. You shook your head, smiling, and calming yourself down long enough to take a sip of your drink. After weeks of being cooped up, using the majority of your free time to focus on future equipment blueprints and potential future materiels to use, while your leg had healed, it felt good to be out with them.

Oliver raised his beer bottle to his lips, frowning when he found it empty. “I’m gonna go and get us another round,” he announced as he got up and turned to head toward the bar.

“I’ll help you,” Hal said very abruptly, going after him.

You frowned. That was… strange. What was going on with him? That was when you saw it, out of the corner of your eye, Dinah moving, leaning in close to you, so that no one would overhear. Now you understood.

“You and Batman. Spill.”

You looked at her like she had just grown horns. You scoffed. “What do you mean “spill”? You’ve seen the arguments. Everyone one has. What else is there to talk about?”

She raised an eyebrow at you. It was more than clear that she didn’t believe a word you were saying. “Right. That’s why you both disappeared for hours at a time afterward hmmm? Because there’s nothing else to talk about?”

Okay. It was clear to you that she definitely knew what happened between you and Batman, but how? Had she somehow overheard the two of you? Mentally, you shook your head. It didn’t matter how close you were with her, you would still rather forget what had happened between you and Batman and talking to her about it wouldn’t help. Before anything else could be said, Oliver and Hal returned to the table, drinks in hand.

“And what were you two talking about?” Oliver asked as he set down his and Dinah’s drinks, while Hal set down his and yours. You thanked him.

“Nothing, just some girl talk,” she replied. You nodded in agreement with her before taking a sip of your drink.

The rest of the night went by quickly. The situation between you and Batman wasn’t brought up again, but you didn’t believe that Oliver and Hal were oblivious to the situation. The timing of their leaving and Dinah’s questions were too much of a coincidence. It made you wonder how many more Leaguers were aware of it.

As the night came to a close, they walked you back to the zeta tube. Since you weren’t having a one night stand tonight, you figured you may as well just go back to your apartment.

You were curled up on your couch, underneath a fleece with a bowl of popcorn on your lap. You were watching a movie you had been meaning to watch for a while now, but had just never got around to it. Until now. It had felt good to go out with your friend, but it had completely drained your social battery. You needed to recharge, so to speak. And this was the perfect way to do so.

You were about halfway through the movie when the phone you had specifically for League only business, started to ring. It was for emergencies, in case that you weren’t on the Watchtower ro away from home. You paused the movie and picked up the phone, growing when you saw who was calling you. Batman? There were plenty of other Leaguers available tonight, so why you?

You pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. He was a teammate and he needed help.

“Where are you?” you asked as soon as you had answered the phone. There wasn’t any time to waste if he was in trouble.

“There’s an old amusement park, just outside of Gotham.” He sounded winded. Something you were sure that you had only picked up on because of you… time together.

“I’m on my way.”

The sight of the amusement park had the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. It just seemed… wrong. A place that was supposed to be filled with people, lights and laughter was dark, devoid of life and decaying. It was unsettling. The fog drifting in certainly wasn’t helping with that.

You stayed down and kept your steps light as you stalked through the park, looking for Batman. You wouldn’t lie, it confused you a lot. Why he would call you, of all people, for help. Hell, the fact that he had called for help to begin with. You had heard the stories from the other Leaguers. How is stubbornness to handle things all by himself had nearly killed him more than once. Not to mention that he had made his feeling about you more than perfectly clear. So why had he asked you for help? Especially when there were other Leaguers that he not only liked more, but had more experience with this sort of thing than you did. There were plenty of them on standby. You knew because you had double checked, in case the two of you weren’t enough for whatever this threat was.

You thought about asking him why, once you found him, but you dismissed it almost as quickly as it had come to mind. He wouldn’t tell you even if you did. There was no point in wasting your breath.

The old rides groaned and creaked. Chains, whose purpose had been long forgotten rattled and banged against various makeshift poles and equally rusted poles. The cleaning noise echoing around you. The shadowy remains of the rollercoaster loomed high above you, like the unnatural skeleton of some giant creature. If you hadn’t been unsettled before, you certainly were now.

Voices ahead caught your attention. They were loud and distressed. Like they had been attacked. You had a good feeling you knew by who. Sticking to the shadows, you slowly began to creep toward them. Through the fog, two silhouettes started to take shape ahead of you, but before you could get closer, someone grabbed you. An arm wrapped around your waist white the other covered your mouth, pulling you to the side and keeping you secured against a muscular chest. Your instincts had kicked in and you attempted to fight against the person who had grabbed you, not stopping to think who it might actually be. You stopped when you heard his voice.

“It’s me.” His voice was deep and gravelly, sending goosebumps across your skin. You were thankful your suit didn’t show any skin.

Even as you stopped fighting, your body remained tense. You stayed still and silent. The two of you watched as the two figures, two henchmen dressed in black and red, rushed past. They were yelling at how Batman must have gone in the direction they were headed, completely unaware that in their hurry they had run past him and you. When they were gone, their footsteps fading, he released his grip on you. Now free, you spun around to face him.

You were so close together, lips centimetres apart. If either of you moved forward just a little bit they would meet…

You snapped out of it immediately and backed away from him, putting space between you both. What the hell where you thinking? This was not the time or place to be thinking with anything other than you brain. Especially with him, of all people.

“What’s going on?” you asked, making sure to keep your voice low.

He gestured with his head for you to follow him before he moved away from the wall, continuing down the makeshift alleyway.

“I’ve been investigating the recent super villain attacks,” he started to explain as he led you through the park. “So many happening so close together is too much for it to be a coincidence.”

You stuck to the shadows and kept low. The henchmen were on high alert, from their run in with Batman. You were sure that their trigger fingers were itching, ready to fire at anything that looked just a little bit like a bat.

“They’re connected?” While you had found the attacks a little strange, you hadn’t found it so strange to have thought that they might be connected.

He nodded and looked over his shoulder at you. “Tonight should prove that.” Then he turned back and continued leading you.

Batman didn’t elaborate further. Not that that wasn’t unexpected. He had a thing for being cryptic. That was something you had learned quickly after joining the League. The amusement park was crawling with henchmen as well. Too much talking and you could definitely end up drawing some very much unwanted attention. Being silent for the time being would be best.

Still, it was gnawing at you. Why had he asked for your help? There was a part of you that really wanted to know. You remembered the night in Star City vividly. The words said, how he had snapped at you. Showing his true colours. Similar fights had broken out on the Watchtower, more often than not involving him and Hal. As far as you knew he had never called him for assistance. Especially when there were other Leaguers he preferred working with. Then it hit you. Was this his way of attempting to start over with you?

The two of you soon came to a funhouse. Which, unlike the rest of the park, was seemingly devoid of life entirely. The quiet though. It didn’t feel natural.

Batman rose a hand as he stopped in his tracks, stopping you at the same time.

“Something’s wrong,” he stated, voice low.

“Definitely,” you agreed with him for once. “Could it be a trap?”

“Maybe. Stick close.”

You nodded and followed him into the funhouse.

Floorboards creaked beneath your feet. Some of them felt like they were about to break beneath your weight. So you kept your steps as light as possible, hoping to avoid that. You didn’t want to reinjure your leg. There was a strong stench of wood rot and mould, making you wrinkle your noise in disgust. The further into the funhouse that you got, the worse the smells started to get.

After walking through a couple of rooms that had clearly been gutted, you and Batman came to a hallway full of mirrors. The distorted mirrors coerced the walls and ceiling. They were either cracked or broken, glass littering the floor, cracking and crunching beneath your boots. He came to a stop before one of the broken mirrors, something catching his eye, and stepped through it. You followed after him, careful of the jagged pieces of glass that were still attached to the frame.

There was a short hallway behind the mirror, with a door at the end of it. Likely for employees back when this place was still operational. Batman had already dropped down onto one knee, lockpicking equipment in hand, working on the door’s lock. You kept watch, listening for anyone who might potentially be headed this way. A few minutes later, you heard the door creak open.

It hadn’t been open for even a few seconds before the smell hit you. It had you coughing hard and gagging, though nothing came up. You covered your nose with your arm, hoping to try and block out some of the smell. It felt like it was all over you, coating your hair, skin and the inside of your throat and nose. You had no idea if you were ever going to be able to get it off of you. It was a smell of rot, but not like what you had been breathing in throughout the funhouse so far. This was far, far worse. The only thing you could think was that this was what death must smell like. Which had your stomach churning.

Other than a few coughs when the door first opened, Batman didn’t seem to be overly effected by the smell. It made you wonder just how many times he had to have encountered the stench before for it to not effect him as much as it was effecting you. You were about to ask him to confirm that what you thought you were smelling was exactly that, when you were stopped by the sound of laughter.

“Are those—”

“Hyenas? Yes,” he cut you off. “Two of them, to be exact. Stay close.”

Hyenas? Who of Gotham’s criminals kept hyenas again? You racked your brain for the answer. It came to you as you followed him further in. Harley Quinn. She kept hyenas. You were only aware of that because everytime she did something it was big, televised and all over social media.

“Harley Quinn is here?”

“Most likely, but even if she’s not here currently she would have left something behind,” he replied. “Either way we should stay on high alert. She’s become even more dangerous since Joker’s death.”

“Didn’t she kill him?”

“Yes, in a slaughter house. There wasn’t much left of him.”

Though he didn’t go into detail, your mind unprovoked conjured up an image of what likely happened, making you cringe.

“You saw?”

He was silent for a moment before finally answering you. “Yes. I arrived too late to stop her.”

As you continued deeper into the funhouse, the smell of rot grew stronger, making you gag again. The hyenas’ laughter had stopped by now, which made you even more anxious. At least before, when they were making noise, you could have pinpointed where they were.

After walking down a maze fo corridors that all looked the same as each other, the two of you soon came to a room where the smell was it’s strongest. It wasn’t hard to see why. You didn’t know what this room would have been when the funhouse was being used, but now it had a large cage in the centre of it. There were two hyenas with spiked collars with in the cage, surrounded by bones and fighting over a piece of meat. It looked fresh, meaning they had been fed recently. Harley was probably close by then.

The bigger of the two won the fight and ran of with its prize. While the smaller one now had its attention fixed on you and Batman. Its ears came forward as it sniffed the air intensely. You were grateful for the bars the stood between you and the hyenas.

There was a couple of desks shoved into the corner of the the room, piled with various papers and files and there was a map of Gotham attached to a corkboard, sitting just above the desks. While you had been focused on Harley’s pets, Batman had already made his way over to the desk and was going through the papers.

“She stole them from the zoo an hour afterwards,” he answered your unasked question, like he could read your mind.

You nodded and moved away from the cage, deciding to help him go through the papers to help him. Only for him to bat your hands way and glaring at you for getting in his way.

“Only trying to help!” you snapped.

“Then keep watch,” he grumbled, looking way from you and continuing to focus on the task at hand.

Folding your arms across your chest, your turned away from the desk to survey the rest of the room. If Harley was still around, after feeding the hyenas, she wasn’t going to be getting the drop on the two of you. As you kept watch, you listened to the way he was sutling through the papers.

Wondering what was taking so long, you briefly looked over your shoulder, watching how he shuffled through the papers and kept looking up at the map. Trying to match the information with the scribbles perhaps? Before you could think to ask, his head snapped up and you found yourself being thrown across the room.

You hit the floor, hard. Pain radiated through your arm and ribs at how awkward your landing was. Your arm, thankfully, hadn’t been broken in the fall, but with the way your ribs hurt from just shallow breaths you figured a couple of them had to be broken. As you pushed yourself up from the ground, hissing as your arm protested, you looked back over to where you had just been standing.

Batman laid on the floor, completely still, whilst Harley Quinn stood over him, an almost comically large mallet in her hands. How the hell was she carrying that thing, let alone managing to swing it?

She looked away from his body and over to you.

“Who are you? Batsy’s newest sidekick or just the stand in until Catwoman comes back?” she taunted, a smile on her face.

You pushed down the anger you could feel rising in you at her comment. You couldn’t let her get a rise out of you. Doing so could, and most likely would, get both you and Batman killed. If that initial hit from the mallet hadn’t already killed him. You really hoped that it hadn’t. One of your hands came up to your utility belt and pressed the SOS button there. Though you were sure you could take Harley on, Batman was still in need of serious and immediate medical attention and you seriously doubted you would be able to haul him out of here by yourself.

“The silent type like him huh? Ugh, how boring!” She rolled her eyes.

She charged for you, her mallet at the ready. You waited until the last second to jump out of the way. The resulting swing made Harley stumble and almost fall over. While she had the strength to lift and swing the mallet, her control over it seemed to depend whether or not she hit someone with it. You could work with that.

You kept light on your feet, dodging each of her swing. The aim right now was to try to tire her out, before you got tired yourself. Which would hopefully give you an opening to take her out.

“Stop moving!” she yelled as you dodged again. The time, instead of hitting air, the mallet smashed into the door of the cage. The door squeaked as it swung open and banged against the bars of the cage. She laughed manically and pointed at you. “Babies! Get her!”

The hyenas whooped and giggled as they ran out of their cage, baring their teeth as the headed straight for you. You didn’t want to hurt them, at the same time you really didn’t fancy getting ripped apart by them. You narrowly avoided the bigger on as it lunged for you and kicked out at the other one, trying to force it back. You went to reach for your belt, but a gunshot rang out, making you jump.

“Uh uh uh! My babies can’t use flash grenades so neither can you! The next bullet goes into your leg if I see you reaching for that pesky belt again!” Harley was now sat on one of the desks. Her mallet was propped up next to it and a gun in her hand. Batman was still laying on the ground, unmoving. God, you wished he would just spring back up and surprise her. But he wasn’t going to. This was all up to you.

The hyenas were well coordinated, doing their best to get you to jump back into either one of their jaws. Which you really didn’t want. You could smell the rotten meat stuck deep within their sharp teeth. You were sure that a single bite from either of them would likely be singing your death certificate. The longer this went on for the more chance they had to do that. You were going to be bitten if you didn’t find a way to either render them unconscious or scare them.

As you did your best to avoid the hyenas, you were getting closer and closer to Harley. Who was getting more and more annoyed that her “babies” hadn’t ripped you apart yet. Taking both her and the hyenas by surprise, you darted forward and grabbed the mallet, doing your very best to swing it. It hit one of the hyenas, making it yelp as it slid across the floor. When it climbed back up onto its feet, it ran out of the room, the other one following close behind. You let go of the mallet and it hit the floor with a loud thump.

“How dare you!” she screamed, the gun she held was now pointed directly at you. Though you jumped out of the way as she pulled the trigger, pain flared through your side. Ignoring the pain in your side, you darted forward again. Disarming her with a kick and slamming her head down into the desk, successfully knocking her out cold.

Your hand went to your side and when you pulled it away again, it was covered in your blood.

“Fuck,” you muttered, pressing your hand back against your side. You really hoped that the bullet hadn’t hit anything vital.

After handcuffing her, you left Harley laying where she was and dropped down by Batman’s side. “You had better not be dead,” you told him. Using your non-bloodied hand, you slipped it beneath his cowl to get to his neck. You sighed in relief when you finally found his pulse. You removed your hand and slumped against the desk. Now all you had to do was wait for help to arrive and hope that her thugs or hyenas didn’t end up coming back beforehand.

So much for today being a good day.

Taglist - @the-last-twin-of-krypton @bakugous-bakahoe @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople @little-rivers @callalily2000 @geminicinderella @warsaur @theclassicvinyldragon @aniya7 @bluebear19 @jdream55 @thedeadlythoughts

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman x fem!reader #batman imagine #bruce wayne imagine #under your skin verse #my writing

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curtis-corner · 23 days

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STAND BY ME (Darry Curtis) PART 7

Fic masterlist here

Fun fact: the end of this chapter was one of the first ideas I had when coming up with this story. Enjoy and I promise an update next week because I think y'all are going to want one!

Taglist: @lovelylegolas2123 @amnestyliketaz

PART 7

You never used to mind working the later shift on Friday nights, but ever since you had starting dating Darry, you dread the time spent away. Knowing he was at his house and you could be there too made you antsy and you looked at the clock more than usual.

The door jingles and you look up from organizing receipts when you hear someone say your name.

“Sally?!” You exclaim, coming out from around the register to greet your old high school friend. It had been over a year since you last saw her, she got married right out of high school to an army man and moved up to Kentucky.

“I meant to write, I’m back for a week to visit with my folks. Needed to pick up a few things,” she gestures to the aisles. You catch up for a few minutes and help her find what she needs.

You are ringing her up when the door chimes again and you glance up to see Darry walking in. Sally gives you a not so subtle look as he approaches the register, she knew about your old crush on Darry and you know she’s going to go wild when she finds out you are dating.

“Hey baby,” he says when he approaches, leaning against the side of the counter and smiling. He glances over at Sally, whose mouth is wide open as she looks between the two of you.

“Sally, you remember Darry Curtis,” You awkwardly wave between the two of them.

“Hi Sally,” Darry voice is smooth, a clear contrast to yours. Sally closes her mouth, but her wide eyes turn to you.

“Seems I ain’t the only one forgetting to write with important news!” You groan. “Oh don’t you groan at me, missy, I was there when your Curtis crush started-“

“Curtis crush?” Darry raises one eyebrow and now your face is really heating up.

“And it was like pullin’ a tooth to get you to talk about it, but you’d blush even harder than you are now-“

“Alright, here’s your change.” You shove a few coins into her hand. “I’ll ring your parents tomorrow, we’ll catch up this week, I swear it.”

She leaves and you turn to Darry, who is smiling like a cat with a canary, but he opens his arms and you go right into his embrace.

It had become a little tradition on Fridays to have a date night in, and you felt spoiled by the effort Darry always put into it. He poured you a glass of wine and went about heating up your portion of baked chicken, potatoes and green beans. Darry always ate with his brothers, but made sure to save enough for you, and you made sure to always share some of your plate with him.

You had been dating Darry a few months now, but you still hadn’t gotten fully used to the feeling of being taken care of.

After dinner, you snuggle into his side on the old couch and lace your fingers through his. Steve and Soda had gone out and Pony was working on his story in his room.

“I think I need to repaint the kitchen.” Darry says, his thumb tracing circles on the spot where it met your hand.

“A nice light blue would be pretty.” You offer and he presses a kiss to the side of your head. You fight the urge to turn and capture his lips – you had already been caught making out once tonight by Ponyboy, you didn’t need to make him blush any harder.

“You wanna help me pick out the color?” Darry murmurs and you nod, snuggling closer.

“I’ve always wanted to paint a room.” You tell him. “My house is all white, nothing pretty going on. When I was little I would ask my parents if we could paint them, but they always said no. Once,” You giggle a little. “Once I took crayons to my bedroom wall and started coloring it.

“How much trouble did you get in?” Darry asks, chuckling.

“None, actually. I moved the vanity so it covered it. It’s still there.” Darry looks down at you and smiles.

“Smart girl.”

“They didn’t come check on me a lot anyway,” You say and Darry presses another kiss to the side of your head. “When I was little, sometimes my mom would have to take me on her jobs. She cleaned houses for some Soc families. I always knew I wouldn’t have a big old mansion on the West Side. But there’s these neighborhoods you pass on the way – like near the high school?” Darry nods.

“More middle-class kind of ones. We do jobs there.”

“I always thought those are nice. Nicer than what’s on the East Side, at least. I would look at them from the bus window and the yards were all kept up and it just seemed…safe.”

“I like those houses too.” Darry says and you sit for another minute, just holding hands. A door creaks open and footsteps come down the short hallway.

“I’m coming in the living room. I better not be scarred for life again.” He announces and Darry rolls his eyes.

“Smartass.” He answers and Pony rounds the corner with a knowing grin.

“Can we watch a tv show? My hand is cramping up,” he lifts his right hand and gives it a shake.

“Sure.” Darry slides over and Pony sits on his other side, leaning in close and Darry tucks his other arm around him.

You knew Darry still worried sometimes about not being able to take you out as often as he would like, or the fact that your time together often included at least one of his brothers, but the truth was you loved it.

You loved how Soda would turn up the radio when he was doing dishes and dance around so much it would take twice as long for him to finish them. You loved that Ponyboy would sometimes ask you to check over your history homework since he knew it was your favorite subject. Even with everything the Curtis family had gone through, the house was still warm and bursting with love and you considered yourself lucky to be a part of it.

Pony fell asleep not twenty minutes after he sat down, and Soda and Steve came home tracking in so much snow that you though Darry was going to make them sleep outside. You talked with them for a few minutes while Darry walked a half-asleep Ponyboy to bed, and then Darry begrudgingly took you home.

It was freezing, but that never stopped Darry from walking you right up to the door. While you both pushed the line in private, at his core Darry was still a gentleman.

But not too much of a gentleman to give up pushing you against the front of the house and kissing you senseless.

“I hate sayin’ goodnight to you.” He murmurs into your neck and you sigh.

“I know the feeling.” He wraps his strong arms around you one more time before walking you to the door. His brows furrow.

“Doesn’t your dad usually leave a light or two on?”

“Only because he doesn’t remember to turn them off.” You reach into your pocketbook for your house key.

“He’ll be home in what, an hour or two?” Darry is still looking around. He had made it clear many times he does not like dropping you off at an empty house.

“Usually about that.” You hold off on opening the door and instead sneak one last kiss from your boyfriend. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” You two had plans to go to dinner and for a drive after you freshen up from your day shift.

“I love you,” Darry says, as earnestly as he did the first time. And just like the first time, it still nearly knocks you off your feet.

“I love you too. Drive home safe.”

The wind whips through the house when you open the door and you hear a few papers rustling on the table. You hope your neatly piled bills aren’t scattered all over the floor.

You do your usual bedtime routine – change into pajamas, brush your teeth, use a cold cream and washcloth to take off your makeup. It’s quiet but peaceful, and you are nearly snuggled into bed when you remember you forgot to get a glass of water.

You walk to the kitchen and catch the corner of a paper from under the table. When you pick it up, you see it’s not a bill but a note from your father:

In some trouble. Out of town. Lock the doors.

You read it again before an icy feeling starts to crawl down the back of your neck. You never locked the doors when your dad was out, he usually came home so loaded he couldn’t open them with a key. With the note clutched in your hand, you hurry to the front door and lock it.

You can feel your heart beating a little faster and you go back to your bedroom and try to take deep breaths.

You glance at the clock – nearly one in the morning. You’re having an internal debate on whether to call Darry when you hear glass smashing from the front of the house.

You hear a thunk, and then two male voices arguing, one sounding further than the other. Another smash of glass and the voices are slightly louder.

“You think he skipped town?”

“Better not have, boss will have a cow. Now find that money.”

There’s movement and shuffling and the terror that has gripped you since the first sound of breaking glass suddenly propels you into action. You grab your pocketbook from the nightstand and shove your feet into slippers before opening your bedroom window as quietly as you can.

You hear more banging, and it’s getting closer. You hoist your leg over the windowsill and climb out. Your back leg hitches on the windowsill and you fall the short distance to the ground, landing on patch of ice and gravel.

You ignore the throbbing in your right arm and without another look back, you run like hell.

#stand by me: darry curtis #darry curtis x reader #darry curtis fanfiction #the outsiders fanfiction

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stcverogers · 2 years

Text

JANUARY FIC RECS!

fics that i’ve been reading and obsessing with over the month of january

this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them.

F: fluff A: angst S: smut

𖥻 - series /multi part

masterlist

BUCKY BARNES

F: how's your head? by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky you and bucky didn't exactly have a meet-cute. your first encounter is you bleeding from your head.

F: bucky being shy around a girl he likes + part 2 by @ro-is-struggling

F + A: through his eyes by @sebbytrash 𖥻 ever since bucky came to the compound, he always thought you were familiar. when he slowly regains his memories as the winter soldier, he is horrified.

F: pastel colours by @the-canary 𖥻 mr barnes, the physics teacher, seems to have a thing for stealing pens. you, an avid stationary collector, cannot stand it.

F + A: caught in the fire by @dreamwritesimagines 𖥻 growing up in a bakery right in the middle of a mob neutral zone, it’s no surprise you and bucky barnes become the best of friends. life gets in the way and you facing circumstances. whether you let bucky stand by you through it all is up to you.

A: say it by @sgtjbuccky 𖥻 you love bucky with all that you have. sacrificing yourself to save him included.

F + A: the new recruit by @angstysebfan 𖥻 you and bucky were in a good place. a new recruit to shields threatens to take it all away

F + A: picture perfect by @writingsoftheloser 𖥻 you're steve's fake girlfriend to help make his crush jealous. you meet his best friend and fall in love with him. all while trying to keep up your facade with steve.

F + A: something domestic by @fandoms-writings 𖥻 a majority of bucky's adult life has been dedicated to the military. losing an arm and being discharged leaves bucky to try and rediscover who he is, even if it meant living a hundred miles away from the city in the middle of nowhere.

F + A: heart of glass by @buckybabesonly you and bucky rarely had disagreements, let alone he be angry at you.

F + A: accidentally in love by @creativebeang 𖥻 sargeant barnes was a complete hardass. he always had something to critique you about. a mission gone wrong flips a switch in his head and suddenly he's all over you.

F + A: the ask out by @delaber bucky barnes is no longer the charming boytoy he once was. it's completely evident in his interaction with you.

F: old fashioned by @demxters bucky was traditional, old fashioned, nothing like other men of current times.

F + A: personal ghosts by @fandoms-writings you lose bucky to the snap and he presence looms over you even after he's gone

F + A: they don't know you the way i do by @themorningsunshine bucky overhears a conversation between a few agents, agreeing with what they have to say about him.

A: out of time by @drailyter all good things must come to an end, your relationship included

F + A: the outbreak + part 2 by @stxrvel in your head, a self sacrifice is nothing as compared to a successful mission. bucky thinks differently and it causes your friendship with him to crumble.

F: missed you by @stuckylaufeyson bucky comes home from work missing you more than usual.

F + A: relationship tutor by @samingtonwilson 𖥻 bucky is infatuated with natasha rudolph, who you happen to know from your yoga class. you reluctantly agree to be his wingwoman.

F + A: looking for a heartbeat by @justreadingfics 𖥻 you left without a word 2 years ago to finally pursue what you have been searching for your whole life. you're back in new york now and it seems that bucky's long moved on from you

F + A: vacant mirrors by @whirlybirbs 𖥻 the blip chipped away at everyone. you were no different. dr hart shares an office with fellow therapist dr raynor. this meant that you shared a waiting room with one james buchanan barnes.

F + A: time after time by @justsomebucky 𖥻 at just seven years old, your parents got divorced. you move in next door to the barnes family. it's only right that you became friends with bucky.

F + A: until his last breath by @witchywithwhiskey bucky comforts you after a break up with your long-term boyfriend.

AARON HOTCHNER

F: mess of mine + i'm a mess but by @hotchgirlsummer you are far from SSA hotchner's type. he usually goes for those older, mature. not adorably clueless women who work at a clothes shop.

F + A: 'tis the season by @happiest-hotch 𖥻 hotch needs his family to get off his back when he visits them for the holidays. you come up with the terrible idea of being his fake-date. what's worse? you have feelings for him.

F: the mark of a lover by @wildflowerluver aaron hotchner is not a touchy person. the five times hotch has to adjust to your physical affection and the one time he embraces it

THE BATMAN

F + A: all for us by @the-daydreaming-show 𖥻 jason's death had been tragic for the waynes. you will do whatever it takes for you to be the happy family you once were.

F + A: one bad day... by @a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all 𖥻 bruce refuses to avenge jason's death due to his moral code. you, however, do not share the same morals as him.

S: the billionaire affair by @kaleidoscopewritings19 𖥻 you and bruce rekindle an old flame, despite being married.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky fic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch fluff #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne fluff #claire’s fic recs

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anarchotolkienist · 2 months

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would you say then that neopagan celtic revival movements are primarily centered outside of ireland (&the other isles) instead of there be perhaps large movements of celtic revival in these ancestral lands? it seems to me from what you’ve said that in the ancestral lands, most people of celtic descent are practicing or nominative Christians. And it also seems that any existing celtic revivalist movements in the ancestral lands today are afflicted by that noble savage folkloric fetishism you’ve spoken of. From your perspective and experience, I wonder that there aren’t many or any that don’t play to those harmful tropes? Seems rather rare. I ask because in Canary Islands there’s been syncretic revivalist movements seeking to reestablish indigenous Canarian spiritualities within contemporary religion. Perhaps that’s different than most neopagan revival with the Christian syncretism being incorporated, rather than discarded. Food for thought

I would first caution against even using the term 'celtic' in this way, of a unitary territory or ethnic group - such a thing has never existed outside the minds of the far right, whether they conceive themselves as in favour of the 'celts' (as most of them do today) or against them (as the eugenicists who invented the racial category did). Someone being "of Celtic descent" means absolutely nothing if they don't have the language and never knew someone - say, a parent or grandparent - who did. This is of course quite different from the Canaries, where the indigenous language has been completely wiped out, so long ago that very little is known of it, as I understand the situation - though I am more ignorant of Spanish colonialism than I want to be.

I think the most important thing to remember about the neo-pagan 'revival' with regards to 'celtic' spirituality is that it emerges completely outside of the actual language community, the people who actually carry Gaelic/welsh/Breton culture in some way. It is fundamentally shaped, therefore, by stereotypes and other ideas that can't be checked by them against the actually existing people and culture. The Gael, speaking of the group I know the best, is weak, in practice, and has no voice of their own to speak up and defend themselves - they try, again and again, but they mostly do it in their own language, which none of the intellectuals who invent this rubbish speaks. Due to the history of suppression and oppression, there is essentially no Gaelic middle class, which can read and write in English, which can defend them. The few intellectuals who could (Fear Chanaigh, Alasdair MacIlleMhìcheil, maybe) were easily ignored. Because of the presence of Gaelic within the imperial core - on the English-speaking core - it's much more known of than, say, indigenous Canarians, but this means that false information spreads even faster to people - Americans - who have even less connection to the actual culture than, say, Scottish Lowlanders do. I think this matters, too, for why it's so incredibly widespread.

I think you're right to identify the openness towards syncretism as being core to it. To the extent that there is some animistic survivals on modern Gaelic folklore (which I'm less than convinced of myself, but some people, including some Gaels, believe), it has been syncretic with Christianity for more than a thousand years at the time it starts to be recorded in a modern form. It needs to be remembered, too, that unlike in the Canaries the introduction of Christianity did not come through colonialism at all, but it was adopted by the Gaels en masse long before colonisation begins, a significant difference between Gaeldom and the natives in the Canaries or elsewhere in the Spanish empire. I hope that sort of answered your question?

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rjzimmerman · 2 months

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Excerpt from this story from Yale Environment 360:

Strong winds sweep over the Rhön, a vast region of rolling, forested hills and pastureland in central Germany. Undeterred, Stefan Zaenker, leading a group of four volunteers, runs through his checklist alongside a forest road. Are rubber boots disinfected to prevent introducing potentially harmful microorganisms into the wetland? Are the team app and GPS functioning correctly? Have enough flags been packed?

When all is in order, Zaenker, 56, leads the group into a soggy alder forest. Its mission for the day: to locate and map as-yet-undiscovered springs and document any species inhabiting them.

A senior conservation official for the state of Hesse, Zaenker considers springs so important for human life and biodiversity that he — along with volunteers from the Hesse Association for Cave and Karst Research — spends much of his spare time conducting large-scale searches for them in the Rhön, which includes the German states of Bavaria, Thuringia, and Hesse, and in a nearby national park.

Conservation strategies around the globe focus on rivers, bogs, forests, reefs, and many other habitat types. Springs rarely get any special attention. In the United States, for example, springs do “not appear to be a prominent feature on the conservation radar,” says Kirsten Work, a zoologist from Stetson University in DeLand, Florida.

But for the biosphere, these tiny spots dotted across Earth’s land surface play a powerful role: They connect reservoirs of groundwater to the outside, sunlit world. Only so-called “fossil” aquifers — ancient bodies of groundwater that do not recharge — lack a link with the surface. Without a continual connection to groundwater, which also feeds rivers, many landscapes would quickly dry up and become hotter. In addition, springs are home to a wide range of highly specialized species, some of which live outside by night and in the darkness of groundwater by day.

Far too little is known about where springs occur and what species they harbor, Zaenker says. In a country like Germany, which has no wilderness but a very efficient bureaucracy, most people assume that everything in nature has already been discovered and mapped. This is not true, he claims: “I can stand right next to an impressive spring with water flowing out, but the official topographical map shows nothing.” Official maps denote springs with a blue dot, indicating they are habitats protected by law. Yet many — if not most — springs remained undocumented. “How are we going to effectively protect these important habitats or know if they dry up,” asks Zaenker, “if we don’t even know they exist?”

Halfway around the globe, ecologist Larry Stevens is on a similar mission and is equally worried about the future of springs. In 2013, Stevens cofounded the Springs Stewardship Institute, a nonprofit science initiative linked with the Museum of Northern Arizona, and in 2023 he published Springs of the World: Distribution, Ecology, and Conservation. Stevens considers springs prime examples of “canaries in coal mines” because they act as early warning systems of water table decline and biodiversity loss.

Stevens is particularly fascinated by the large number of highly specialized and endemic species found in and around springs. He points out that with constant temperatures and high purity, spring water offers unique living conditions. Springs are often isolated from one another geographically and many have been in place for millennia, characteristics that make them hotspots for new species to arise and refuges for species that have lost their habitats elsewhere. “Although miniscule in habitat area compared to rivers, lakes, and oceans, springs support more than 10 percent of U.S. endangered species, as well as thousands of other rare and endemic biota,” he notes. For example, the so-called Comal Springs riffle beetle is limited to a few springs in Texas, while the endangered White River springfish lives only in isolated warm springs in eastern Nevada.

While there are many spectacular springs — like the white Pamukkale terraces of Turkey, Blue Spring in New Zealand, or the hot springs in Yellowstone National Park — most are rather inconspicuous. That doesn’t diminish their importance, though. Every creek, river, pond, and lake starts with at least one, and often many, springs.

#freshwater #freshwater springs

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neutron-stars-collision · 3 months

Text

Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 7 - Bermondsey Underground Station

Masterlist; Chapter 6 Summary: You reconnect with Neil a couple of days after the night you spent together. The meeting sparks many questions and revelations. In other news: Tenet agents are a nuisance. Neil knows that best. Warnings: Swearing, explicit language, tiny bits of angst because who would I be without it. Author's Notes: It's been 84 years... but it's here! 🎉 And it's 16k apparently. Sorry about that. As you've noticed my brain (and heart) are all over the place but this story is still very much alive. These two are not letting me go, soo... Let's keep going. Thank you to anyone who's waited this long 💕 I really appreciate you. I've got so much planned for them and very excited to share it with you. And, seeing as from next Saturday I'll be in London for a week, there might be even more inspiration ✨ (I'm definitely taking Jubilee Line from St. John's Wood to Canary Wharf. It's all I'm saying) For now - enjoy two idiots being idiots. And a cameo appearances from the Tenet crew because it's high time Cupid met them ;))) Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added)

Checking the contents of your bag one last time before leaving the flat, you sighed from the oncoming headache already building behind your temple. What a stupid idea it was to hit the snooze button five times instead of being a big girl and getting up at the first sound of your alarm. Now, thanks to your idiocy, you had no time to get that much-needed hit of caffeine if you were to make it for the usual 7:21 train from St. John’s Wood. And you were keen to make it. If only because you promised him.

You were less eager to admit other reasons motivated the rush, going far beyond an agreement that Neil would not hold it against you if you were to break the promise. Reasons such as the inexplicable itch underneath your skin that started sometime last night upon a reminder that you were going to see him today. For the first time since that night. The nightÔ - now officially trademarked, thanks to your idiotic brain. The feeling did not cease even when you tried to remind yourself that there was nothing extraordinary about what transpired then. No actual reason to behave in this irrational way.

Nothing of importance happened. Nothing ground-breaking or life-changing. Just an expected result of weeks of flirting and tension triggered by a bottle of red wine and a natural connection. Just spectacular sex.

If you dared add. A self-satisfied smile stretched over your face at a mere memory, powering you through those final steps before you could leave the apartment and lock the doors, bounding down the steps with no concern over the noise. Fuck the neighbours. Or something like that.

By now, four days later, you were quite good at getting rid of the confusing thoughts the moment they bloomed. Not seeing Neil certainly helped, as did the harrowing afternoons and evenings devoted to the performances. On the stage, you never had the time to think about nonsense such as this, focused on executing the choreography and maintaining that signature, flirtatious Cupid smile that was even rewarded a mention in one of the first ballet reviews. (Truly, a highlight of your unmemorable life if you were to be honest).

The other thing that helped make sense of the mess in your head was Neil’s phone call. It acted as a push in the right direction, a reminder that you had to be the reasonable one. The one to guide him along, highlighting the facts as there were. That the night mattered, in the meaning that it was hardly forgettable. Nothing had to change between you. And most importantly, Neil was the one calling the shots because you were more than happy to continue.

You repeated those truths in the quiet of your head until they felt like certainties. And now, finally, they did. On a cloudy Wednesday morning, you could freely admit you knew what you were doing. The Friday night confusion was just a glitch, an inconsequential event in the grand scheme of things that would bear no impact. Now or ever.

Smiling as you shouldered past the loitering tourists at the entrance to the station, you allowed yourself a nod. Everything was in order. The last piece of the puzzle – Neil’s say in the matter – was the only thing missing.

Despite the wish to remain as detached as possible, you hoped it would be a ‘yes’ rather than the opposite. Even if only because your selfish soul did not want to let him go. Just yet.

The 7:21 train arrived at the platform as you stepped off the escalator and rushed into the middle carriage. By now, your gaze was trained on finding Neil with embarrassing speed, eyes darting over the faces of commuters until they would find what they sought. Today, it took less than ten seconds to locate him, sat in one of the double-seat rows. Neil must have been on the lookout as well, for as soon as your eyes fell on him, you found him staring back. An unshakeable shiver travelled down your spine as Neil’s mouth quirked into a smile. Friendly, yet uncertain. As if he was debating the possibility that you could turn on your heel and leave instead of crossing the space to join him. The idea seemed ridiculous enough that you had to smother a laugh as you fell into the plastic seat with a bright grin ready on your face.

There was no other place you would rather be. Truly.

“Hi,” raising your hand in a pointless wave, you widened the obnoxious grin and allowed yourself another scanning look over his face.

Nothing seemed to be amiss except for the slight weariness in his gaze, as if, for Neil, the few days apart did not eradicate the doubts and worries. As if he was still not sure where you would go from here. Or how he should act around you now. After everything.

You vowed to erase his concerns before you were to part at Southwark. That simply would not do.

“Hey…” Neil murmured the complimentary greeting, his hands flexing in his lap. Before you could decide to reach over and still their nervous twitching, a flash of pain passed through your skull, making you wince. That did not go unnoticed “Are you okay?” the softness of his tone made your heart give out a warning summersault.

With anyone else, you would heed the warning and do everything to get rid of the strange sensation filling your chest. With Neil, you could only swallow past the feeling and offer him a dimmed smile and an honest reply:

“Yeah, it’s just a headache. I didn’t have the time for coffee if I wanted to make it” the grumpiness shone through your voice as you pressed your fingers against the throbbing spot on your temple and sent an inward curse to the gods responsible for the passage of time.

With half the mind to start digging in your bag for the painkiller that was definitely (hopefully) somewhere inside, you did not clock Neil’s movements until he tapped your knee and placed a takeaway coffee cup in your line of vision. Startled, you turned your head to look at him, an unasked question already on your tongue.

“Here, you can finish this” flashing you an easy smile, Neil all but shoved the lukewarm cup into your hand.

Your brain needed additional minutes to process the unforeseen developments as you tightened the hold over the cup and regarded him silently. Only then the shocked, delighted smile made an appearance on your face:

“Good god, I didn’t know we’re at the stage where we’re sharing caffeine sources” the faux gasp was a worthwhile addition, triggering Neil’s laughter.

For a split second, you were content to bask in the glory of it and the knowledge that you were the sole cause. You did this to him.

Still, the sentiment was true. You could barely recall the last time someone was kind enough to buy coffee for you, let alone share theirs. And never on their own accord, leaving you almost lightheaded from the tenderness of the gesture. You stifled the feeling with another exaggerated smile.

“Do you want it or not?” Neil arched his eyebrow, aiming for sternness but failing.

You could see the joy in his eyes, lighting them from within.

“Oh, I do, I do” sending him one last grin, you raised the cup to your mouth and took a long sip. As that first taste of the cappuccino hit your tastebuds, you stifled a pleased groan and relaxed into the seat, “Thank you, kind Sir” tipping an invisible top hat at Neil, you cherished another chuckle dragged out of him and added, “You’ve saved my life” taking another sip, you met Neil’s gaze, seemingly unwavering in its focus on your face.

You watched as his eyes roamed over your features to glance at your mouth and stay there. Stuck perhaps. Without daring to give it second thoughts, you allowed your tongue to dart out and swipe over your lips. Even then, you did not look away from Neil, feeling the electricity crackle and snap between you. Another beat passed before he looked up, startled and caught with the blush dusting his cheeks. It was impossible not to chuckle, breaking the tension by looking away.

Not without effort. And not for long.

“Eternally at your service” you got as far as downing the coffee before Neil spoke again, his quip making you inhale sharply.

Being caught unaware by blatant flirting was new. Unprecedented, yet not unwelcome. And easily redeemed. You turned your head to meet Neil’s unwavering gaze and offered a knowing smirk, matching his expression. Without wasting another second, you leaned in closer, eradicating the gap between you and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“You are, aren’t you?” the question did what you needed it to as Neil leaned back enough to meet your gaze again and quirked the corner of his mouth into a pleased smile.

The awkwardness of those first few minutes seemed to be past you now, overtaken by the easy banter. You settled into the feeling and the comfort it brought without trying to understand why that was the case. It was better that way.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you felt Neil’s gaze back on you. Its weight was not a burden, leisurely caressing the outlines of your body before opening the page for a new question:

“So… How’s work?” you glanced at Neil just in time to see his easy smile, the interest clear in his eyes.

That part of your friendship was something you valued highly because you could not find it anywhere else. With anyone else. Only Neil seemed to care about the mechanics of professional ballet and the trials and tribulations it entailed. Only he seemed curious about your goals and aspirations, always so eager to hype you up despite you never asking for it.

You were sure the soft smile was already present on your face as you offered him a reply:

“It’s good. Got stellar reviews, as I’ve told you, and now the other Cupid is taking over for a couple of days so I can prepare for the auditions for the next one” the mention of what awaited spiked your anxiety, even if only by a fraction.

Because the prospect was terrifying. Even with the hours of prep and previous season’s experience, you could not ignore the fears. There was no certainty you were good enough to get another breaking role. There was no confidence in that matter either if you had to search your heart and soul. There was only fear nagging at the edges of your conscience with increasing urgency.

You knew it would only get worse in the span of half a week that was left.

“The Nutcracker?” Neil’s complimentary question kept you anchored in the present.

It also proved that he listened to all the bullshit you spewed every time you met. And that, much like shared coffee and the desire to get to know you, was worth more than you could express. More than you dared contemplate if you wanted to maintain the relatively unbothered mood and the illusion of nonchalance.

“Yeah. I’ll prepare a couple of variations and hope for the best” only when you felt Neil’s hand cover yours did you become aware of your fidgeting, of the restless fingers picking at the hangnails. The comforting weight of his palm stilted the movement and offered bravery you did not realise you needed to speak the thoughts into existence, “I could show you what I’ve got in a couple of days,” the wavering notes of your voice made you cringe, instantly removing any pretence of cool you wished you could maintain. If only because you cared. Too much “If you-” the end of that rambled disclaimer was cut short.

Thank god.

“I’d like that” Neil squeezed your hands and sent you a reassuring smile, somehow already knowing what it was that you needed, “Seems like I’m already experiencing the withdrawal symptoms” the candid tone did nothing to help you ignore his wink or minimise the impact of the statement.

You blinked twice as your brain absorbed and processed the words. Only then you turned towards Neil with a deadpan expression and asked:

“… from my unremarkable dancing?” measuring him up silently, you took passive note of the station you had just arrived at.

There was still time. Time to offer Neil space to take back what he just bestowed on you. For him to deny the praise hidden in the corners of his affectionate smile and within the light in his eyes. But he did not seem eager to backtrack on the words you did not think you deserved.

“From your incredible dancing, Cupid,” signing off the accolade with another one of his charming smiles, he lifted your hand to his lips and turned it to press a fleeting kiss to the inside of your wrist.

Over the pulse point. A gasp was inevitable as you closed your eyes and let the sensation burn through your body and soul. Just as Neil intended. It was fleeting, yet the impact felt almost permanent. Impossible to shake off.

You did your best, opening your eyes to see his pleased smirk and ignoring it entirely to huff in pretend annoyance:

“Christ, you’re such a charmer” an eye roll thrown into the mix completed the act as Neil let go of your hand and let it drop back to your lap.

The sensation persisted, making your skin tingle. Unconsciously, your thumb rubbed over the exact spot he kissed. It did nothing to eradicate the sensitivity.

“You like it, though” mindless of your turmoil, Neil bumped his shoulder into yours, the dangerous grin blooming on his beautiful face.

It took you one look to know you were foolish to think one night with him could have been enough. Stupid to believe Neil was someone you could let slip through your fingers after getting to have him. Now, with the decision entirely up to him, you could only wait, taking what was freely offered. With that reminder, it was easy to forgo the remains of pretence. Even if just this once. Once more.

“You’re right” the only sign that he was not expecting your straightforward answer was how his eyes widened, roaming over your face with renewed intensity. By now, you knew there was no point in trying to decipher his looks, so you simply stared back. Unwavering and confident in what you wanted him to know, “I like you,” noting the slight hitch in his breath, you added, “Neil,” emphasizing his name the way you did on Friday night, you met his increasingly alarmed gaze and offered a smile. A wordless reassurance that he need not fret that you have gone insane. Not yet, anyway. Before the charged moment could evolve into something you could not control, you swallowed hard and asked the only question that required no thinking or clarity of mind, “How’s the parish?”

The manic grin, signing off the not-subtle change of topic, was a touch too much. Admittedly. It slid off your face as quickly as it appeared and was buried in the hard stare you directed at the dirty floor of the carriage.

But not for long.

“Great, many… devotees and all” the joy in Neil’s voice alone was not enough to make you look up.

But it was enough to make you crack a tentative smile, relieved that the joke still had not gone stale. You quite enjoyed it. For whatever reason.

Following the hopeful thought, you raised your head again to meet his gaze. On the periphery of your attention, you noticed the fact that Neil had never looked away, but you filed the knowledge for future use (that would likely never come) and instead offered him a cheeky look:

“All that jazz?” framing your face with infamous jazz hands, you waited with bated breath for the quip to land.

It did with an uproar of laughter and Neil’s striking eyes gazing at you with something you could not decipher if you tried. Wordlessly, you offered him something similar, an affectionate look that spoke words you never could force your tongue to form. It spoke of comfort. Of being understood like never before. The gratitude in Neil’s face was worth the risk.

“Jazz and hymnals,” offering you another manic grin, he broke the eye contact to glance at the floor. Before you could begin to think of something to say, Neil swallowed hard and spoke again, “Actually, I wanted to ask if you wanted to join me and some of my work friends in a pub on Friday?” the only sign that he was nervous was the slight tremble in his voice, followed with close to no time given for your answer, before Neil dived into another winded explanation, “It’s just a hangout, but ever since I dared mention that I met a ballerina, they won’t stop pestering me about you” a nervous chuckle tore from his parted mouth, making you look up and study him closely. That strange shyness seemed to be back, as always out of place on such a beautiful face. It bloomed along the sharp lines of his cheekbones and in how he picked at the chapped skin of his bottom lip with his teeth. Without thinking, you covered his fidgeting hands with yours. A gentle squeeze was all the confirmation you needed to know it was a good call, “So I want to introduce you” his earnest eyes met yours, but before you could even think about the answer, Neil added, “As my friend” he nodded, once and curtly as if convincing himself of what he just said and he fell silent.

The resulting pause was almost hard to absorb. It rang in your ears like an explosion. That was not something you expected to hear. Probably never. Not from Neil. Admittedly, the concept of him talking about you with someone else seemed foreign enough to be nonsense. Not probable.

And yet. You did not have to search your heart to know what the answer was supposed to be.

Aware of the few different ways you could approach it, you chose to fall back on what came naturally. Unlike honesty and vulnerability.

“As long as no one asks me to get on my knees and pray, I’m in” shooting Neil a smirk that felt a tad too much, you waited for his startled gaze to meet yours and winked, dropping your voice a notch to share what was meant for his ears only “And yes, I would get on my knees for other reasons” there was nothing to add there.

And nothing to take back either. No regrets as you stared at Neil, patiently awaiting a response. All the while, your fingers kept the loose hold over his hand, brushing over his knuckles in repetitive moves to soothe the both of you. Even if you would never admit as much.

You watched as the shock in his eyes gave way to begrudged acceptance, disappointed yet not surprised by your constant desire to be a nuisance. It was almost flattering. It made your blood sing with a spark of something you were keen to assign to pure exhilaration. And arousal, too.

“I didn’t ask” after what felt like ages of silence, Neil swallowed hard and made an effort to look away from you, feigning disinterest.

Still, his fingers squeezed yours, betraying the act. Smiling, you squeezed back and disentangled your hand from his as you took note of the approaching station. It was funny (and fucking annoying) how fast time seemed to pass when one wanted to cherish every second.

“But you wanted to,” shrugging upon Neil’s arched eyebrow and an indignant noise of protest that was never going anywhere, you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek fleetingly and got up from the seat “Give me time and place, and I’ll be there” smiling in the face of his utter bewilderment, you added, “On my best behaviour” a glance out the window showed you the tiled wall of the Southwark station, and signalled that it was high time to move.

Unfortunately.

“Like right now?” the humour in Neil’s voice was a reason to look back at him, taking note of the delight you could see on his face.

It proved all you already knew. He enjoyed it. All of it. Your insanity included. The understanding was enough to make you grin like a mad woman and nod:

“Yes, exactly,” the carriage drew to a slow stop, and people rushed from their seats as you gripped the railing and met Neil’s gaze for another prolonged moment.

“Perfect,” mirroring your smile, Neil’s mouth twisted into another trademark smirk.

The doors slid open with the PA message talking of gaps and stations. You raised your hand in a brief wave as you let the tide of commuters lead you onto the platform and away from Neil.

Not bad for a first meeting. Right?

***

In hindsight, which was a gift many possessed, but Neil decidedly did not, it was probably expected, that his friends would take every opportune moment to ask about Cupid. Even when taking a short break in the common room. Even when he was halfway through the second espresso of the day (and a third cup of coffee, because whoever needed sanity, anyway?). Even when it was the last thing he expected. Or, perhaps, especially then.

“How’s your ballerina, mate?” the question arrived exactly when Neil had his mouth full of coffee and was too busy staring at his phone to realise he was targeted with another of Ives’ laser stares.

A coughing fit, brought forward by the ever so graceful tendency to choke on drinks whenever cornered, was the only answer Neil was capable of for the first ten seconds. Glaring at Ives with what he hoped was enough murderous intent to make the soldier reflect on his actions, he put the cup on the coffee table in front and glanced at the remaining person in the room. Just to anticipate further assault, should it follow. Naturally.

Wheeler seemed unbothered, sipping her daily green tea and scrolling on the phone. But by now, Neil knew better than to ignore her existence. With one final warning look in her direction, he turned back to Ives. Just in time to see an infuriating grin spread over the man’s face, begging to be wiped with a punch. Ignoring the urge to do just that, Neil offered a reply:

“She’s… good. Great” the words felt flat, not measuring up to everything Cupid was.

But it was also the only admiration Neil was willing to impart to them. Those words were safe, not betraying the exact depths of his affection. He might not be embarrassed about how much he valued Cupid and every little thing about her, but he was certainly not eager to get into another conversation that would lead nowhere. The teasing was awful, as it was already.

“Of course she is,” Ives’ repartee muttered loudly enough to be heard by Neil from the other side of the room was accompanied by another of his annoying smirks.

Was Neil a better, smarter person, he probably would have ignored it. But he was neither better nor smarter. The spark of exasperation has been lit, burning through his chest with increased ferocity. But, sadly, no matter how frustrated Neil felt, he knew that none of it warranted physical violence. Yet, that is.

So, leaning back on the sofa to at least maintain physical comfort, since the mental one was not available, Neil chose to channel the ire into words.

“Your point?” arching his eyebrow, he focused his gaze on the current enemy of the state, awaiting an answer. When nothing followed except for Ives’ nonchalant shrug and Wheeler’s scoff in the background, he continued, “Never mind, I don’t care” he knew he sounded like a petulant child throwing a tantrum, but there was hardly anything to do but push onwards, choosing this moment to drop the news his ‘friends’ (way too generous term) surely would be interested in “I invited her to the pub, by the way,” Neil could feel the grin making its place on his face, erasing any pretence of indifference “Tomorrow” even the reminder alone was enough to spark the excitement.

Alongside it, he could feel the inklings of anxiety bloom to life. If only because he had no idea how Cupid would react to the antics of his friends. Or whether his dear crew was even capable of surviving her. He pushed past the worrying thoughts for the time being by reaching out for the cookies on the table. The sweetness of chocolate chips melted on his tongue, eradicating the fears. For now.

“Why?” this time, Ives’ question was stripped of all remaining nonchalance and certainty.

He was not expecting that. Neil’s mouth twisted into a smirk, revelling in satisfaction. He met the man’s surprised stare with confidence, taking in the uncertainty coming to life underneath that cocksure act his friend liked to maintain. Well, no more.

One glance at Wheeler confirmed the upper hand he has seemingly achieved, making Neil push forward:

“Because maybe once you meet her, you’ll stop being so annoying about this,” the steel edge in his tone was not something he could explain.

Except that he suddenly felt the need to defend the relationship with the woman in question against all forms of offence. Even imaginary.

“No chance, sweetheart” it seemed that Ives did not need as much time as Neil hoped to recover.

The grin was back on his face, accompanied by a wink. Outrageous. Ignoring the sudden urge to hiss like a furious cat, Neil rolled his eyes and dropped his gaze to the table.

Despite her suspicious silence, he could feel Wheeler’s eyes boring holes into his head from her perch in the corner of the room. That was a ticking bomb, awaiting her moment in the chaos to blow up. Or, less dramatically put, waiting for her time to shine and ask a question Neil knew he would not be able to answer. It hung over his head like the guillotine’s blade.

“Yeah, I worried as much,” punctuating the annoyance with a huff, he raised his head with renewed determination. It fueled the words he needed to be spoken, “Still, Cupid is delightful, so you’ll sure like her” it was as much a certainty as it was a plea.

A hopeful thought. A dose of wishful thinking, indeed.

Somewhere at the back of his head, Neil became aware of the many different words to describe her whirling around his brain, thousands of synonyms and endearments scratching at his consciousness. As if desperate to be heard. To make a point. But there was no point to make here. Cupid was a delight. She was also the most beautiful woman he had ever met. She was someone he could not have. But that was alright. It really was.

“I’ve no doubts about that” Wheeler’s voice broke the silence, startling Neil. He turned his head sharply to face her, noticing the quiet confidence visible in her sharp green gaze. Still, he appreciated the vote of trust, “Did you kiss?” the question exploded with the force of an atomic bomb.

As he should have expected. The nonchalance in her face told Neil he fucked up, ignored the signs, and now he has been left gaping at his two tormentors with no way out of the interrogation. Well, he could have just got up and left. But Neil was also pretty sure he would be cornered in the lift next. Or on the stairs. Or wherever else it was possible to torture him. Sighing heavily, Neil sagged onto the sofa and covered his face with his hands. A deep breath or two were in order. Perhaps he was overreacting. The dramatic tendencies yet again won with any sense of logic or stoicism. As always.

Fuck it. Heaving another weary sigh, Neil raised his head to stare at the wall as he stammered:

“I- We-” finally, he summoned enough courage to say what needed to be said, “Yeah… we did” with the speed of his thoughts at the minute, it was no surprise that the brain did not get the memo to stop fucking talking. No surprise at all to hear himself add another tidbit of information, almost without his conscious decision to do so, “We also had sex” as soon as the words left this mouth, Neil groaned, barely resisting the urge to get up and flee the scene with burning cheeks and mortification capable of killing him on the spot.

The fact that this sometimes happened – saying things before he was even aware he was doing it – was embarrassing enough. Especially now. The silence in the room upon his ill-timed admission felt thick enough to be cut with a knife. Even a butter knife. Unwilling to see the exact reactions on the faces of his companions, Neil trained his gaze on the floor, feeling the blood rush in his ears, the pulse pounding with worrying speed. He could feel their stares, boring holes in his head and trying to peer inside.

“You- what?” in the few years of knowing Ives, Neil was sure he had never heard the man quite so flabbergasted.

If it were not so surprising he would almost find the reaction offensive. Because why was it so unexpected? He tried not to ponder the answers to that question.

“Last Friday, after the ballet,” throwing the background information with as much indifference as possible, Neil slowly raised his head.

He was met with a wide-eyed stare from Ives’, his bright blue eyes seemingly stuck in a constant state of shock. Yeah, that was that when it came to not being offended. Exasperation rose in his chest, tempting Neil to do something very stupid. But before he could utter another word, Wheeler’s question filled the silence:

“So, you’re together now?” contrasting her trusted partner in crime, the brown-haired woman appeared disturbingly calm.

She put down the cup of tea with a measured move and rested her hip against the cupboards, unnervingly staring at Neil.

There was no need. He seemed unable to keep quiet anyway.

“No, of course not. I’ve told you that she doesn’t do relationships. It’s just sex” this was an answer long prepared, something he could recite from the heart. Why that was, Neil dared not think. Instead, he shrugged, for the umpteenth time within the past ten minutes, wishing to exit the conversation and escape to the North Pole. Or someplace like that. Polar bears were sure much better company to the two idiots he was paired off with presently, “Why are you staring at me like that, Ives?” he could hear the edge in his voice, the sharpness of vowels revealing the depths of annoyance.

The last thing Neil needed was someone sowing doubts about what was unchangeable. Not now when he finally began to feel settled again, for the first time since that fateful Friday night. Now, when he was so close to giving Cupid the answer. Now, when he almost felt like he knew what he wanted to do about it.

Not now.

“Because I think you’ve gone insane” there was no dose of mercy or understanding in Ives’ reply; the man focused his blue-eyed gaze on Neil without respite, clearly driven to say his part. For better or for worse, “You don’t do casual sex. With anyone” before Neil could offer an interjection at what was clearly not true, the man continued. Somehow filled with more passion and conviction, “Christ, I’m pretty sure you turned down at least three girls for that very reason last year. You’re a romantic, Neil” the sign-off proved to be the last straw.

Neil rolled his eyes against the allegation and stood up, fire blazing in his gaze. For whatever reason, he did not know. Except that something in the impertinent tirade of his friend irked him beyond compare.

Yes, maybe what Ives said was true. Maybe he turned down offers for casual sex before. But that did not mean a thing. Because all those other women were not her. They were not worth changing his ideals for what could also prove to be an unsatisfactory result. Only she seemed worth the risk.

And yes, Neil was aware of how pathetic that sounded. He shook his head against the ridiculous thoughts and paced the room before finding apt words to defend his choices. Not that he had to defend anything, of course. Still-

“No, I’m not” if that was a stretch, no one had to be any wiser. Just in case, however, Neil trained his gaze on the floor instead of looking at his companions, “Just because I’ve never done it before doesn’t mean I can’t now” there, that sounded perfectly composed and reasonable “It’s fine. I like her, and we’ve got a good thing going” finishing the speech with the only sentiment he was moderately sure of, Neil risked a glance at his friends.

Ives still looked infuriatingly impassioned, as if barely holding himself back from making more incorrect assumptions, but it was Wheeler’s expression that made Neil falter. His restless eyes finally found purchase for more than a second at a time. If only so he could understand what that introspective look in her eyes meant. And what potential trouble could it bring.

“If you say so,” Ives’ dejected reply almost went unnoticed, falling under the radar as the man sighed heavily, as it was him who was being violently verbally attacked.

The audacity was something else.

“We’re just worried about you. We’d rather avoid a repeat of the last time someone broke your heart” Wheeler’s voice was laced with concern as she breached the space and placed her hand on Neil’s shoulder with a stoic yet meaningful look in her eyes.

The tight smile completed the picture as she squeezed his shoulder and left as quickly as she had approached him. Still, the gesture lingered, making Neil falter. Because he knew what Wheeler meant. He knew it too well. Sometimes during those darkest moments, he could still remember how it felt. The searing pain in his chest and the inescapable knowledge that he was not enough. That he never would be. That the heartbreak would follow him wherever he went because there was no universe in which Neil was destined for a happily ever after.

Sometimes, it was easy to believe that, too.

Most of the time, however, he ignored those thoughts. Like now, when that first sting of tears at the back of his eyelids spelt trouble and unwanted attention. When he could feel the tightness in his throat threaten to trigger something no one wanted to see in public. Not now. Not ever.

Instead, Neil plastered on another obnoxious grin. The blinding strength of it was almost enough to get rid of the residual feelings.

“Well, worry not! It won’t happen” to reinforce the intended effects, Neil notched up the cockiness in his smirk and flopped back onto the sofa with all the air of someone certain they were making correct decisions.

Or, at least, that was the hope. That no one would see past his act despite the edges of the mask slipping with every second.

Taking a fortifying breath, Neil swallowed hard and settled against the cushions, hoping the softness would anchor him. A glance at the watch confirmed his hopes – not much time was left till he had somewhere to be. A handy excuse to leave faintly appeared on the horizon, teasing him with potential and salvation. Only, it still had to wait…

As soon as the faint hope glimmered, making Neil feel a tiny bit better about his current situation, Ives broke the silence. The only way he knew how:

“So… how was the sex?” Neil’s head swivelled in the direction of the man at breakneck speed, a blush already blooming on his cheeks.

It was mortifying how little it took to reduce him to a blushing fool these days. How one mention of Cupid, or the moment they shared, was enough to render him incapable of acting like a grown-up. How there was nothing to do about it but groan out loud and cover his face with his hands, hoping to escape the scrutiny. While knowing it was too late, anyway.

Before he could find an apt response (or any words at all, in fact), Wheeler interrupted the silence with her frustrated sigh, annoyance tinting the words:

“Ives, for fuck’s sake…” even without looking at her friend, Neil knew she was rolling her eyes, equally fed up with Ives’ antics.

Not for the first time, he felt gratitude for her existence and the constant intolerance of bullshit. Neil hoped to convey as much through a quick smile, shot in her direction sometime between staring at the floor and pondering the best course of action. She smiled back, briefly dropping the disinterested frown that seemed at home on her face whenever friendship dramatics unfolded. Which was more often than Neil would like to admit.

Apparently, a penchant for drama was a contagious trait. Sadly.

“What? I gotta ask the important questions” the lack of remorse on Ives’ face told Neil all he needed to know about the situation.

There was either option a – leaving the room as he stood, without a further word or a gesture, aware that he would be cornered by his dear friend shortly. There was also option b – answering the question in the vaguest way possible and hopefully buying himself time and necessary peace.

Was it really a choice? Sighing heavily, Neil strengthened his back and met the awaiting blue gaze with what he hoped to be confidence.

“Very good. Might I say euphorically good,” he could feel the smirk make home on his face as memories followed the words, offering a gratifying reel of moments he was sure he could never forget. It never failed to make him grin like an idiot and consider doing something reckless like calling Cupid and asking her out. As a friend, that is. A friend you wanted to have sex with again. Instead, he allowed himself to soften the voice and add, “She’s… incredible” it was a severe understatement, but then the present company was not worth hearing peans he could bestow upon her.

Those words were meant for her ears only. And yes, he knew how it sounded. How it pointed towards things Neil was not admitting, not even to himself. But that, too, was best ignored. Forever.

Before Neil could find the necessary words to follow the admission and, hopefully, exit the conversation altogether, the door creaked. All three pairs of eyes snapped towards it, displaying different stages of shock and bewilderment.

Neil watched as The Protagonist stepped inside, the dynamic of his movements stopping on the threshold as the man took in the scene presented before him. Cocking an eyebrow in a silent question, the older man closed the door behind his back and regarded them coolly.

“Uh oh,” the phrase, offered casually, without a dose of interest or intrigue, was accompanied by another taxing look.

Worryingly, it was focused on Neil only. The dark eyes of his best friend (and boss) scanned him from head to toe, undoubtedly clocking everything he hoped to conceal. Stifling the sudden urge to drown himself in the cup of lukewarm coffee someone abandoned on the table hours before, Neil sagged on the sofa. That was not going to be fun.

“Uh oh, indeed” even without looking at him, Neil could tell Ives was smirking.

Feeling the three pairs of eyes focus on him again, he groaned.

He was completely and utterly fucked, it seemed.

***

Usually, Friday evenings in the pub were not associated with anxious thoughts or fidgeting hands, interchangeably tugging and relaxing the chain clasped around your neck. But that was not a usual Friday night, and no amount of mental coaching could change that fact or convince you to stop worrying. No, the nerves seemed ingrained in the fabric of your soul as you exited the Leicester Square station and rushed through the streets of Chinatown, rapidly filling with people. You swallowed past the overwhelming onslaught of worries and pushed onwards, only briefly stopping underneath the red lanterns to double-check the location and whether you were still on the course.

When Neil sent you the address earlier that day, you admitted that the choice of locale was greatly appreciated. That was your hunting ground so to speak. The streets, where you felt most at home, with the bright lights proceeding your steps and the bustle of the city filling your heart. But even the comfort of the familiar environment did not eradicate the fears. The millions of what-ifs swirling around in your head all pointing out that one crucial fact – there was no guarantee that his friends would like you. None at all.

And the alternative was too terrifying to consider. Admittedly, this was not a place you visited often. Not a predicament you knew too well. Because, usually, you could not care less. Did not give a flying fuck about whether someone liked you or even accepted you because if they did not – well, their loss. But those life rules did not seem applicable this time. Not when the stakes suddenly seemed higher than gaining a stranger’s sympathy. Even though you could hardly explain what the alternatives were and why they scared you quite so much.

Glancing up from the phone screen, you double-checked the pub name with the address typed into the search bar and closed the app. Pocketing the device, you crossed the street and stopped just before the doorway. The bar was half-full, the music not quite booming yet filling the interior with cosiness and warmth that beckoned you inside, sparking the courage that began to flicker in your heart. As if sensing your moment of indecision, your phone buzzed. A single text from Neil appeared on the screen:

/✝️, 8:03 pm/ I’m here if you’re early.

Despite the nerves, you grinned. A ridiculous giggle escaped your throat as you pushed the door and entered the pub. That was a sign if you ever saw one. The contrasting warmth seeped into your bones as you unzipped the jacket and manoeuvred around the tables to the room in the back. This part of the bar was empty, save for a larger table in the corner. As soon as you entered the space, Neil raised his head and met your gaze with a bright smile. It was impossible not to grin back, taking in the warm light reflecting in his golden hair and the undone top buttons of his navy shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Even now, after everything, the sight never failed to make your pulse quicken, revealing the truth you could not ignore. That you wanted him. Still.

Probably more so now that you knew what it was like to have him.

That reminder alone was a reason to push all thoughts to the back of your mind and close the remaining gap in three steps. Shooting him an overly confident grin as a greeting, you drew back the chair opposite Neil’s and took off your jacket, draping the covering over the backrest and sitting down without as much as a word. If Neil noticed the unusual silence, he did not show it, instead following your every move with curiosity in his eyes. Once you were settled and allowed yourself to rest your gaze on him, Neil’s smile softened into something fragile. Something kinder than you were used to. You basked in the warmth of his expression as he broke the silence:

“I’m glad you came” that same affection tinted the simple sentiment, quieting the nerves in your head, even if only for a second.

For whatever reason, the fears seemed worth it if that was the reaction you earned by going through the pains of what was coming. It was shining in the blue of his eyes, luring you in like a spell. Without thinking about it, you darted a hand forward and quickly patted his hands, folded atop the table. The corner of his mouth twitched, clearly noticing your gesture. It was a nice feeling to be seen like that, appreciated for every tiny thing you did or said.

“Well, I promised, didn’t I?” the awkwardness slipped out alongside a weak chuckle you attempted, hoping to balance out the sudden pull towards seriousness in this conversation. You weren’t supposed to be serious, “When are-” the question, the only one you could think of suddenly, got cut short by Neil’s answer.

“In about ten minutes. They might be late, though” he glanced at the watch, almost in an afterthought.

Unashamedly, you let out a long sigh, feeling weariness fade for a short while. Ten minutes seemed like an apt time to settle. Or at least enjoy what you have right here and now. What you feared to lose more than you could admit.

Where was courage when one needed it desperately?

“Cool…” your knuckles rapped against the table, hoping to find the bravery in the rhythmless sound, but to no avail. You looked up, instantly caught in Neil’s blue gaze, staring back at you intently. As always. As if there was anything of interest that he could find only on your face, “Can I ask you something?” there was no way of getting rid of the tremors in your voice.

“Always,” Neil nodded, generous enough to spare you the suspense.

Taking a deep breath, you raised your head once more, plunging into the deep end:

“Are we still going to be friends if they hate me?” with no right way for a question like this to come out, you still cringed, wincing as soon as the words left your mouth.

Clingy. Pathetic. So unlike what you thought you knew about yourself. And yet. Because that was the crux of the issue. This deeply rooted fear that Neil’s presence in your life could disappear suddenly without a warning or a reason. A fear you did not understand or experienced before. It was terrifying.

Before your brain could unleash the ramblings, erasing any evidence of the question ever having been asked, you felt Neil’s hand gently cover yours. Despite knowing better, you looked up in time to see another soft smile grace his beautiful features. It mellowed the sharpness of the angles and eased the pain of looking at him.

A pain you were gladly braving every day if it meant you could keep on staring at him. With no desire to understand what that said about you.

“Obviously,” the lack of hesitation on Neil’s part bolstered the faint hope in your soul. It only got stronger as you saw him search your gaze with intent before Neil squeezed your hands and added, “Although I can assure you that they won’t hate you” the lack of judgement in his eyes seemed almost out of place.

A stupid question like that was bound to be judged and ridiculed. Surely. Except Neil did not seem to think so. The realisation made you feel lightheaded. It made no sense in the world order you knew.

You shook your head against the confusion and flipped the hand lying on the table so you could entangle your fingers with his. The softness of his palm moulded to yours as you arched an eyebrow, your face still a picture-perfect of calm:

“How can you be so sure, sunshine?” it was not in your nature to accept reassurance without trying to undermine it. You could tell Neil knew as much. It was there in the utter lack of surprise in his gaze as you prodded, his hand a comforting weight in yours. It helped you take a deep breath and confess what usually remained unsaid, “I know I’m… a lot” your eyes fluttered shut upon the unprecedented display of honesty.

You knew it was true, a fact many thought and no one admitted out loud. Except maybe when they stopped talking to you, leaving you behind without an explanation or an apology. That is when you easily concluded that it has happened again. You were too much. Too much to handle without being enough. Took up too much space without having anything substantial to say or do with it. Asked for too much despite not being worth even an ounce of it. Yeah, that.

It was always like that. So why would it be different this time?

Although you could feel Neil’s piercing gaze on your face, you did not dare look up. Instead, you tightened the hold over his hand and let your thumb brush his skin. The repetitiveness of the caress anchored you in the present. Sometimes, when you were brave enough to contemplate the reality, you marvelled at how easy it was to be like this with him. How you could touch Neil so effortlessly, without worrying about how it would be interpreted or what he could ask for in return.

“You contain multitudes. In the best way,” the affection in his voice made you push against the ridiculous thoughts and look up, even if only to see that same softness reflected in his eyes, “And I’m sure because I can’t imagine meeting you and not being absolutely enchanted, Cupid” squeezing your hand again, he raised your joined palms to lay a kiss on your knuckles.

By now, the move should have been something you were used to. But it wasn’t. It still made you blush, hiding the effects by dropping his gaze and focusing on the table. The warmth his words sparked in your chest simmered with a pleasant heat, almost eradicating every other thought and feeling. Until all that remained was Neil and his steadfast fondness, focused on you. For whatever reason.

It did not take your brain too long to realise the dangers of that line of reasoning, jumping into deflection before any other wayward thought could appear. Raising your head in time for Neil to see a performative eye roll, you replied:

“Christ, you’re really bad for my ego” it was not a lie, and you knew Neil could tell as much from how his mouth twitched.

Still, your hand stayed in his hold, too used to the contact to think about letting go. At least for a little longer.

“Ditto, babe” Neil’s smile widened into a bright grin as he shot you a wink, dropping the new nickname without hesitation.

Almost as if he hoped you would not notice. Wishful thinking and all. The discovery of his slip-up was enough to awaken you, giving your brain something to grasp. A distraction. A way to come back to who you were supposed to be.

Your eyes flashed, a familiar flicker of confidence and control making it easy to hold his gaze. To notice the uncertainty within the blue depths, spurring you on. Before Neil could even think about taking it back, you leaned in, invading his space and getting a whiff of his perfume. Like an addict getting a hit of their drug of choice. Stopping close enough to kiss him if you chose to, you let your nose brush against his in a light caress and whispered a taunting question:

“Ooh, it’s babe now, is it?” the thrill of being this close to him never got old.

It was strengthened by the awed look in his eyes, confirming the suspicions that you finally had the upper hand. Neil looked stunned, blinking rapidly against your proximity and the bold attack you dared execute. You stared as he came to, the hand holding yours twitched and Neil dropped his gaze, overcame with strange bashfulness.

“If you want it to be,” the murmured reply was coloured with sincerity.

Both an admission and a question, opening the floor for your next move. Swallowing past the pause, you opened your mouth to answer before a loud wolf whistle cut through the tension, making you spring back as if burned. Neil dropped your hand, his gaze instantly switching to the doorway. It did not take a genius to figure out that your time has just run out, and the company has arrived.

Fixing a curious smile onto your face, you turned in the chair, your eyes instantly drawn by the arriving group. The reason for your shocking awakening - a tall, muscled man with a buzzcut and a thick beard was the first to enter. His startling blue eyes met yours as his lips twisted into a smug smirk. He glanced at Neil, some silent understanding passing through his gaze before he asked:

“Are we interrupting something?” the unmistakable Cockney accent in his voice made you grin.

The cheekiness of this stranger was something you felt almost at home with. It was something you knew, the familiarity of it quietening the rapid heartbeat in your chest. Somewhat reluctantly, you shifted your eyes to fall on the second person to enter the room. The short woman, her hair twisted into a tight bun (not unlike what you often sported on stage), met your curious stare with one of her own. The last to enter was a tall, Black man. His presence already emitted confidence and charisma that you could not understand. As soon as his eyes met yours, the man smiled – a light, reassuring expression that transformed his face into something kind and open. With a sigh, you twisted back in the chair and closed your eyes briefly.

They did not seem scary… At least not terribly so.

“Not at all,” you only half registered Neil’s hurried response, noticing him rise from the table and gesture towards you with all the awkwardness of someone unable to play it cool. Despite yourself, you smiled at the realisation, “So, this is-” he never got to introduce you, for the sentence got cut short with another boisterous interruption.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” the bearded man approached the table, his wide grin unfading in the face of your bewilderment.

The remaining duo joined him on either side, all three pairs of eyes focused on you without a dose of apprehension. While the scrutiny was something you expected (and were partially used to), it still made you falter. Tightening your shaky hands into fists at your sides, you rose from the chair and faced them with a matching bright grin. By now, the act was almost too easy to take on - no matter the circumstances.

“It is I, indeed” completing the admission with a theatrical courtesy, you extended your palm towards the woman with what seemed like a safe greeting, “Nice to meet you” she met your handshake without hesitation.

The first handshake was followed by a round of introductions and greetings, easing that early discomfort of not knowing people’s names. Through the few minutes, Neil stayed quiet, observing you with an intensity you were slowly getting used to. You did not understand it, but it was almost comforting in its constant presence. Only once you were acquainted, you sat back in the chair. Conscious of the new company, you shifted in the seat and folded your hands atop the table, resisting the urge to meet Neil’s gaze as it bore holes into your head from over the tabletop. Before you could even think of anything to say, Ives broke the silence with what you came to understand as his modus operandi:

“Mate, I must say-” the cheekiness permeated every syllable as the man stared between you and Neil with a wide grin.

Curiosity sparked in your chest as you watched the interaction. The blind panic in Neil’s eyes completed the picture as he leapt from the chair and grabbed the sleeve of Ives’ jacket to pull him up.

“It’s best if you don’t,” the warning in his voice was something new.

Something fascinating, too. Something that you had a feeling you would be repeating in the quiet of your mind later. Later, when you were alone.

Now however, you stared as Neil completed the silent exchange with Ives and informed you all that it was time to get drinks. You got as far as telling him the order of choice for the night before the uncertainty caught up again. With Neil and Ives gone from the table, only two pairs of eyes were trained on you. A small mercy, indeed.

Ignoring the urge to flee the scene, you tried to settle in the seat and raised your gaze to meet the dark stare of the man who introduced himself as John. For some reason, his serious countenance inspired trust, making it a little easier to breathe out. The woman, Wheeler, was more intimidating, although you could not explain why if asked. It was not even that she seemed mean or judgemental, but rather that it was difficult to get a reading on her that you feared what she could be thinking.

Before you had a chance to spiral in that direction, yet again failing under the scrutiny of near strangers, John broke the silence with a question:

“So, how did you meet again?” the curiosity was undeniable in his voice, his eyes watchfully trained on yours.

Almost as if it was a test. Luckily, you knew the answers this time.

“On the tube. Neil was gallant enough to help when I dropped half the contents of my handbag on the floor” a fond smile appeared uninvited on your face, forcing you to drop his gaze and stare at the table instead. That did not go unnoticed. You could still feel their interest, like a constant weight upon your shoulders. It would take much more than this to shake it off, “I wasn’t leaving him alone after that” shrugging, you risked a tentative smile and a glance at your companions.

Judgement was still missing from the picture. Instead, the inquisitive light in Wheeler’s eyes turned into something sharper. For a split second, you felt perceived as if she could see through the bullshit smiles and nonchalant shrugs that made up your protective armour. As if she could peer inside the parts of your mind you did not acknowledge for fear of what you would find there.

Before you could let the simmering panic reap its fruits, John replied:

“And a good thing, too, because he shouldn’t be left unsupervised for too long” the humour in his voice acted like a needed respite, pulling you back from the blooming spiral and into the present.

Despite yourself, you grinned. A startled chuckle escaped your lips, confirming what you knew to be true. That, despite the doubts and perhaps an unconventional run of your friendship, you knew Neil. You understood him.

Enough to know that he should never be left to his own devices for too long.

“I’ve noticed,” a secretive smile shared between the three of you felt almost like an inside joke.

The feeling was strengthened when you heard Neil and Ives return from the bar, their banter audible even from beyond the doorway. You waited until the duo settled at the table again, the ordered drink placed in front of you with a smile, before adding, “Now I’m also forcing ballet education onto him,” winking at Neil to both tease him and draw him back to the conversation, you took a fortifying sip of the alcohol.

Not that liquid courage was needed. Of course.

“Which I don’t mind at all” Neil’s responding grin was worth any possible pain. Its warmth filled you from the inside with a mild bloom of affection, making it that much easier to let go of the remaining fears, “I’ll have to drag you with me someday. You’ll see how amazing she is,” directing the sentence at his friends, Neil took a sip of the pint and stared back as if to challenge your wordless wonder.

Even now, the constant praise was difficult to absorb. How could anyone be this nice and not expect anything in return? You did not know.

“There’ll be no dragging necessary. I’d go willingly” despite the apprehension, the first sentence Wheeler spoke to you was filled with enough friendliness you instantly felt bad for doubting her nature. She offered you a sure smile, the sparks of interest clear in her green gaze, “How long have you been dancing?”

Now that was a question you knew the answer to. Without daring to doubt the sincerity of their investment in your story, you dove into the tale. It twisted through the prodding and the questions, reminding you how much you relished being the object of genuine interest. How nice it was to share stories and have others listen instead of ignoring you or cutting short that which you dared feel passionate about.

Only once your tale found its conclusion in the current day and age, daring to share the hopes for the future, did the nerves resurface. You drowned them in another sip of the drink and chose to ask the question that never strayed too far from your mind these days:

“And you guys? What do you do for work?” admittedly, it was not the smoothest move on your part.

The eagerness shone through each word as you rested your chin on your hand and ignored Neil’s gaze. Perhaps tonight was the lucky one…

“We- You haven’t told her?” as soon as the hope began to build, making you lean forward in anticipation, Ives clearly remembered his surroundings, silencing his own reply with a question directed at Neil.

One glance at the man in question showed you the depths of panic, making you step in. Just in case.

“He hasn’t,” hoping the reassurance in your voice would be enough for them to believe you, you added, tone dropping to that teasing timbre Neil knew well enough, “Which has led to some rather… fascinating conversations” whether mentioning the many inside jokes was a good idea, you did not know.

But it was already done. The reveal did what you needed it to as you watched with interest the many emotions passing through their faces. Brief bewilderment was there, alongside confusion and boundless curiosity. But, perhaps most importantly of all, you could see respect. Hidden behind layers of thoughts and questions, but it was there. You earned it.

And through no other means than being yourself. Little victories have never felt more genuine.

“Such as?” Ives was the first to speak, prodding and teasing, his gaze filled with that familiar cheeky gleam, “Don’t leave us hanging, sweetheart” the nickname rolled off his tongue with ease, which seemed surprising to everyone but the man himself.

You did not mind. Stealing another glance at Neil, if only to check whether he still seemed somewhat alright with the conversation (barely), you allowed your mouth to twist into a telling grin:

“Wouldn’t dream of it” by now, Neil must have known what that smile meant.

The expectation was confirmed by his long-suffering sigh, interjected with a curse and a groan, sounding almost like a plea for heavenly intervention.

That is, if God, the Holy Spirit, or anyone else fancied being cursed while asked for help.

“Jesus fucking-” cutting himself short with another sigh, Neil covered his face with his hands, almost as if unwilling to take part in what would follow.

Still, you could see the remains of a fond smile hiding in the corner of his mouth. That discovery was enough to get rid of any traces of uncertainty. You leaned over the table and dropped your voice to a conspiratory whisper:

“My personal favourite is that Neil is a priest. He’s got the charisma, and I’m pretty sure those dashing looks would help to convert non-believers” admittedly, you were proud of delivering the line with a straight face.

Even more so when, after approximately five seconds, you had the desired reaction of three people dissolving into different stages of laughter at your whim. Despite yourself, you met Neil’s gaze, only to find him beaming with traces of good-natured annoyance in the gleam in his eyes. Wordlessly, you arched an eyebrow, seeking approval. Always eager to be praised for something you felt you deserved. His smile only widened as Neil sneaked a hand beneath the table and briefly squeezed your knee.

That just about did it when it came to praise.

Enough so that when a reply came from your unexpected audience, you were caught unaware by the tone and the knowing smirk present on Ives’ face as he asked:

“Speaking from experience?” startled, you looked up in time to see his confident grin, pointing towards a thought you had not entertained before.

They knew. At some point between the previous Friday night and today, Neil told them what had happened. He has perhaps shared it all, and now you were not only regarded as a strange woman he has befriended on the London Underground but also as someone he had sex with. A lover, if you dared label things. Although obvious a realisation, it was still somewhat unexpected, making your hands twitch as you slipped back on the mask of utter nonchalance. There was no point in pretending now.

“Absolutely” without batting an eyelid, you met Ives’ relentless smirk with an innocent smile of your own, choosing to take back control of the conversations as much as it was possible, “So, whatever parish you belong to, I might want an invitation” concluding the story with a telling wink, you picked up the glass and took a long sip, relishing in the slight burn of alcohol down your throat.

The sensation was enough to distract you from the strange thoughts, inspiring you to give in to the constant pull and meet Neil’s gaze over the table. He was already staring back, his mouth quirked into a soft smile. It was impossible to discern what it meant.

“We’ll come back to this conversation. If that’s okay,” John’s serious voice broke you out of the daydream, making you look up at him with surprise clear on your face.

That same air of authority you noticed the first time you had laid your eyes upon him was even more visible now that you got to talk. Without being able to explain it, you felt like he was the person most in charge out of the whole quartet. The one calling the shots. If anything, the comment enforced the idea, making you drop the playfulness for a split second to offer him a nod:

“Perfectly,” if only to ensure you had not accidentally ended up on the shit list for being too nosy, you added, “Mind you, I’m not holding a grudge. It’s just curiosity,” and it was, just that. The pure desire to know all there was to know about Neil. To piece apart his entire being and analyse it as one does when having encountered something so fascinating they could not walk past it. Yeah, just that. Shaking your head to erase unwanted thoughts, you chose to fall back on what was pleasantly familiar – letting your mouth do the talking without consulting the head on whether it was wise, “Although now that I’ve met you all, I think that perhaps it’s my other guess that makes more sense” letting the sentence trail off to a meaningful pause was an easy fate.

It was something you knew how to do. Entertain. Entrance. Fascinate. All to draw that fleeting attention, which would not solve anything except making you believe you were worth someone’s time. For a short while.

It worked this time, as always. All four pairs of eyes trained on you with curiosity. Ives was the first to break the silence, giving you what you had been waiting for:

“Which is?” arching an eyebrow, he leaned over the table, mirroring your position.

A flash of exhilaration passed through your soul, alighting that which usually laid dormant. Without meaning to, you met Neil’s gaze again, copying the cheeky smile before offering an answer:

“That you’re all in MI6” if not for the distraction in the form of his blue eyes, you were sure you would have clocked in the reactions, or rather the alarming lack of them, sooner. You blinked against the intoxicating pull of him, barely registering the silence from your companions, and found the bravery to add that which was meant for Neil only, “I mean, you could definitely pull off James Bond,” acutely aware of the audience, you tightened your hands into fists in your lap to prevent yourself from reaching out, signing off the statement with a wink.

That, too, hit the mark. You watched with delight as Neil blushed, the pink hue blooming on his cheekbones as he dropped your gaze and downed the rest of his beer. A gleeful chuckle was unavoidable as you finally gathered enough coherence to glance at the remaining companions. The mix of joy, consternation and pensiveness was something to behold, arresting your attention and sparking interest. What could it possibly mean? Questions began multiplying in your brain as you stared, particularly drawn to the exact expression on John’s face. It resembled quiet resolve as if he had just made up his mind about something and would not be persuaded to change it no matter the circumstances.

You had a feeling that you were not an exception to that rule.

“Cupid-” whatever Neil aimed to say got interrupted before you could focus your eyes back on him.

Still, the nickname resounded at the table with an extra impact, perhaps because it was the first time he had used it with the current company present. Despite wishing to remain blind to little details, you took note of the flash of interest in Wheeler’s eyes as her eyes flitted between the two of you. Thinking. You itched to ask what about but also feared the answer. Before you could even gather your thoughts enough to understand the intricacies of the situation, John got up from the chair, pulling Neil alongside him with a tight grip on his shoulder.

“C’mon. Let’s get second round” his tone left no room for discussion as he directed a pointed look at Ives and started for the bar without another word.

You stared as the two men scrambled after him, clearly taken aback by the sudden command. Now, curiosity was an understatement. It bloomed in your chest as you stared at Wheeler, silently begging for answers before you found any words to express an ounce of the confusion:

“What did just-” whatever question you had aimed to ask, you never got the chance as she interrupted you smoothly with a sleight of hand.

“Pay them no mind” that was not a suggestion, either. The order was visible in the focused gaze Wheeler placed on you, its weight quickly becoming bothersome, making you shift in the seat. Soon, you knew it was for a good reason, “Neil really likes you,” there was no question in the statement.

No chance for you to deny the claim. It wasn’t a false claim, either. You knew as much without needing to think about it. He liked you. It was there in every fond look, every tender touch, every affectionate word. And you knew that it was something you were guilty of as well. There was no point in pretending otherwise.

Ignoring the ever-present desire to run away, you strengthened your spine and met her searching gaze with honesty on your face:

“I know. I like him too. Never expected to meet a best friend on the Jubilee line, but well…” shrugging to shake off the remaining worries at your sincerity, you offered her a careful smile.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you understood their importance. You had never admitted it out loud. That this was a first. The first time you voiced what was long established in your mind and heart. What happened before you were aware. Before you could stop it. Was that another mistake? You did not dare answer that question.

Instead, you dropped Wheeler’s gaze and trained your eyes on the table, fingers idly tracing the grains in the dark wood. You knew the conversation was not over now that she had you alone and clearly unable to keep quiet. You did not have to wait long for another hit.

“He told us about what happened after the ballet last week” the judgment was still missing from the equation, no matter how hard you looked for it.

With your suspicions confirmed, there was no point in trying to pretend. No point in acting as if what she believed was untrue. That, too, was a fact. An undeniable truth, memorable and unforgettable.

After a beat, you braved the intensity of her gaze, feeling something else underneath the simple observation. Wheeler hardly seemed like a person to say things without there being a point to them. This time was not any different. The green of her eyes told you she was curious, eager to learn your side of things, but at the same time, she seemed almost wary. Concerned in ways that did not make much sense except for maybe…

“And you’re against it?” the question burst out from your lips before you knew you had formulated it. There was an edge to it that you immediately regretted but did not take back just yet. Not before adding essential information that could sway her. Why it mattered, you did not know, “I must assure you that Neil is in control. I offered to keep this strictly platonic. He’s yet to give me an answer,” the words rushed out with barely a pause in between as if you were on borrowed time.

Perhaps you did not want the company to return before you could wrap up this conversation. Perhaps it felt like if you do as much as hesitate in your answers, you will never get the words out again. And that would not do.

Wheeler only finished her drink in the face of your frenzied confession and took another moment to stare at you calmly before answering:

“I’m not against it, just worried. Neil is a genius, but he’s also a fool. And a romantic, at that,” the tired resignation in her tone provoked a careful smile to appear on your face despite the blooming worry springing alongside it.

It was something you feared, albeit without ever entertaining the thought consciously. His friends had every right to be worried. In fact, you were happy to see someone else care about Neil the way he deserved to be cared for. Intensely. But it was another thing to be seen as a potential threat towards his happiness. Someone to be cautious of. Someone who could hurt Neil. Someone you desperately wanted never to become.

“The worst combo,” ignoring the spiral which had just begun to take root in your mind, you quipped.

The force of the jest got lost somewhere between your head and mouth, lining the words with nerves and uncertainty. It still got a reaction you hoped to achieve as Wheeler’s face broke into a tentative smile.

“Isn’t it just?” her eyes met yours with hints of good-natured delight in the green irises, almost making you feel better about what followed. As soon as she sobered up, you could feel your chest seize painfully, the fear sinking its cold fingers into the fabric of your soul, “The point is that I hope you don’t hurt him. No matter what ends up happening between you” the intent was clear in her gaze.

As was the message. Should you hurt Neil, there would be consequences. Simple. Infinitely more effective than an outright threat.

Somehow, you did not need to search your soul to understand the fear beginning to shape there. You were not scared of what Wheeler or the other would do to you if you hurt Neil. No, it was something much more terrifying. It was the pure horror of knowing that, realistically, you could break his heart. Even if that were the last thing you would want to do. Even if you would never choose to do so. The ability was there. And that was enough.

Swallowing past the desire to flee, you forced yourself to meet her gaze and offer an answer as close to the truth as you could manage. As close as you hoped to be.

“I’ll do my best” you could tell your mouth trembled as you tried to form it into a reassuring smile, but still, you wished for it to be enough.

Because there was nothing better that you could offer. You stared as Wheeler processed your reply, her watchful gaze peering right into the fabric of your soul. It felt like an eternity before she nodded once, ending the conversation with decisiveness. A tired sigh escaped your throat as you sunk lower in the chair. You knew that it would haunt you for days to come.

In the background, you could hear the approaching voices of the rest of your party. The noise sobered you, helping to push against the melancholy and paste on a mischievous smirk. With the mask back in place, you knew you could survive the rest of the evening. Somehow.

***

By the time you had left the pub, the warmth of Neil’s hand on the small of your back guiding you outside, it was late, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. That pleasant tiredness that often came from spending too much time with people, forced to be someone you were never sure you understood, burned through your muscles, leaving you slightly dizzy. But that might have also been the alcohol. Or Neil’s loose handhold, dragging you towards the underground station.

You were not quite sure when it had been decided that you would come back together, only that the conversation involved something with Jubilee Line name-drop and Ives’ boisterous laughter. And a knowing gleam in his eyes that you did not enjoy. Still, as Neil patiently led you down the streets of Soho and towards Leicester Square, you did not mind the result. It gave you more time with him. More time to talk and less time to think about what the eventful evening brought up. About the fears festering in your heart.

Still, the comfortable silence was broken only once you were seated in the carriage, Neil’s thigh pressed against yours on the narrow plastic seats. His hands folded in his lap, tempting you with a comforting touch just a move away. If you dared be bold.

“So… what’s the verdict?” Neil’s question acted like the needed wake-up, pulling from the depths of confusing thoughts and confounding feelings.

It was harmless, instantly drawing your smile from its hiding place. One glance at Neil told you that was the intent, with the affectionate look in his eyes, studying your face. Sometimes, you wondered whether there would ever come a time when you were brave enough to ask what he was thinking about when he stared at you like that. What it meant, if anything at all. Today, you could only return his look and offer a grin as a prologue to your reply:

“They’re insane people” your smile widened as you watched Neil bark out a startled laugh. It was a beautiful sound, making you bask in the glow of those unexpected joys. It was that spark of happiness that made you add, “Just like you,” leaning into his personal space, you gave his shoulder a nudge, this once hoping that the fondness could be seen in your eyes.

You wanted him to notice, to know that the teasing came from no other place but that of affection. That, as you confessed to Wheeler, Neil was important. Probably your best friend. An honourable mantle not many could admit to having possessed. In the entire history of your life.

Neil’s gaze softened as he returned the playful nudge and bumped his nose into yours, drawing a startled gasp from your throat. Proximity tended to do that to you.

“I’d say something about pots and kettles, but-” the warmth in his voice made you wake up from the strange thoughts as you grinned, rolling your eyes at the jest barely disguised behind the good-natured tease.

The sentiment still filled your heart with a contented type of joy, casting the previous anxieties back to the shadows where they lurked. For now, they were not needed. Now, all that mattered was turning your body fully towards Neil and blocking everything except for his beautiful smile and striking blue eyes.

“I own my insanity, thank you very much” feigning nonchalance, you shot him an unimpressed smile before dropping the pretence to offer sincerity. As he deserved, “I like them. They seem fun to be around, and I’d love to meet them again” you met his serious gaze with a wavering smile, feeling it shake beneath the uncertainty that loitered at the edges of your consciousness. Despite the wishes to do so, you did not seem capable of shaking off the anxiety tonight. The addition needed to be said, if only for your sanity, “That is if they don’t hate me” what started loud and confident was finished in a murmur, half-whispered at the dirty carriage floor.

Sudden losses of confidence were something you were not used to, yet getting more accustomed to by the day. At some point, unknowingly to you, along with the trust in the realness of whatever you and Neil had, that old, blind self-assurance dwindled. It was still there but wounded and unable to return to what it was. And you had no idea why that could be except for the terrifying thought that the simple reality of being perceived was enough to tear at your foundations.

You felt Neil’s careful touch, his fingers tipping up your chin, so you had no choice but to meet his reassuring gaze. The pads of his fingers lightly brushed the skin of your neck, kindling the fire that always burned underneath your skin in his presence. You barely resisted the urge to close your eyes and lean into the feeling, forgetting about the conversation and everything else.

“No chance, sweetheart” perhaps the confidence you had been missing could be found in Neil’s smile, shining at you like a beacon of benediction. Or at least it felt like sometimes, especially in the haziness of the late hours and fluorescent lights. Now, as if sensing your uncertainty, Neil covered your hands with his and squeezed them reassuringly, “I’m yet to get professional feedback, but I believe they liked you very much” risking a peek, you met his gaze only to find nothing but affection there, its intensity making you feel lightheaded. No matter the amount of practice, you did not seem capable of getting used to it. Not at all, “Not as much as me, though” when the conclusion to his speech finally arrived, you needed another long moment to process it.

Another beat still to find an opportunity within it. It presented a whole myriad, an easy way out of the conversation that would no longer feel so awfully revealing. A chance for you to reclaim the bravado that so often served as a shield. A protective veil to hide behind until you would be brave enough to face the truth. You were not going to let it pass you by.

Without wasting another second, you presented Neil with a familiar grin as his hand dropped from your chin. You instantly mourned the loss, although you did not let it show.

“Yeah, I’d hope not. I’m not sure I’d be into threesomes” the delivery of the line seemed almost impeccable, making you preen at the instant reaction on Neil’s face in the form of his utter bewilderment. He blinked as if stuck with an exceptionally persistent thought, as a pink hue spread over his cheeks, widening your grin. As always, the instant gratification hit like the finest of drugs, getting right to your head, “Might get too possessive,” the addition, covertly whispered into his ear despite the empty carriage, only strengthened the effect as Neil sputtered, choking on his saliva.

Moments like this were why you knew you were already beyond the hope of saving. There was no going back from this. No chance of forgetting Neil and moving on with your life as if none of this ever happened. Sometimes, when you were brave enough to be honest with yourself, you admitted that you did not want to forget, even if you could.

“Helpful feedback” seemingly recovered from his moment, Neil shot you a glare, barely hiding the happiness visible in his gaze.

Teasing him was always the highlight of every meeting, giving you a chance to practice what you knew you were good at, with the additional advantage of an audience hanging upon each word. Briefly, you wondered whether having an active listener at your beck and call was good for your ego. Decidedly not, but the damage was already done.

“At your service” instead of entertaining the ridiculous thoughts, you mimed a low bow in his direction and squeezed his knee instead of pressing another presumptuous kiss to his cheek. Those would have to be held back until the next time you saw him. Just to be safe.

You met his intense, unwavering gaze just in time to see Neil sober up. His permanent smile faded as he shifted in the seat, almost as if steeling himself for something. Before you could open your mouth to ask, he broke the silence again:

“I have an answer for you” the initial confusion at the opener disappeared as soon as you noticed the uncertainty in his gaze. That sudden shyness you were slowly becoming accustomed to replaced the previous bravery as Neil took a fortifying breath and sighed out the promised answer, “Yes,” there was nothing else to it.

Just one word changing the course of your relationship without a hitch or hesitancy. The suddenness was the only thing that surprised you, with the brain half convinced Neil would need weeks to decide instead of just six days. Still, the uncertainty in his face must have been contagious, for you felt it spread across your soul, eradicating any other feeling or thought. There was no space for joy or excitement at what this course of events would mean for you. There was only doubt.

Whether Neil knew what he was saying. Whether he understood what it meant. Whether he was not making the mistake, Wheeler worried he was capable of. Whether you had the right to ask him in the first place.

Painfully aware of Neil’s attention, you forced your rapid heartbeat to slow down and voiced the only question that felt worth asking:

“Yes?” perhaps it was superfluous, just another second wasted on confirming what was already done and dusted.

Perhaps it spoke volumes about the person you wanted to be – thoughtful, patient, selfless – instead of the one you knew you were. Perhaps it was just another thing you could blame on the alcohol in your system. None of the reasons mattered as soon as Neil’s sombre countenance broke into another sunny smile. His hand came up to hold yours as if without a conscious thought. You settled in the feeling to find the necessary grounding.

“Yes. Because I don’t think I’m capable of keeping hands to myself when I’m with you” although the comment was anything but soft and affectionate, Neil’s hold told another story.

You stared as his thumb traced an invisible path over your knuckles. Over and over again. Until it was a sensation you could anchor within, taking a deep breath to find your footing once more. It would be alright. It had to.

“That’s flattering” despite the numerous buts and ifs whirling in your head, you met Neil’s searching gaze with a semi-confident smile.

You meant it. That much was certain. Because doubts and worries aside, all that mattered was simple: Neil wanted you. Enough so to try something new. Enough so not to choose between your friendship and the intimacy you could have alongside it. Enough so you didn’t have to decide for him instead.

As if reading your mind, Neil turned towards you and tightened the hold over your hand. Without breaking the eye contact, he raised your joined hands to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles, repeating a move already so familiar, yet still somehow unexpected. The breath hitched in your chest as he leaned forward, his other hand cupping your cheek and the thumb carefully brushing over your blushing skin. Quickly, you became incapable of doing anything but stare, awaiting his next move.

Neil’s gaze roamed over your face, as always drawn to your eyes only to glance at your parted lips and get stuck there. Quirking your mouth into a smile, you barely had the mind to find an appropriate quip before Neil wiped the intent clear with one swipe of his thumb. You gasped as you felt his finger trace the contour of your lips, the lipstick applied just before exiting the pub still relatively intact. He seemed to contemplate the next step as his blue eyes flicked to yours, searching for something. Whatever it was, Neil must have found it, for the next thing you registered was a decisive touch of the offending finger, swiping over your lower lip to smudge the lipstick and smear it over the corner of your mouth. Another embarrassing sigh was unavoidable as you glanced up in time to see the hunger in his eyes. As is for the past week, he has been holding himself back just as much as you did. As if this was to be your new normal. The thought alone was enough to make you shiver.

“Even tonight, I thought about dragging you with me to the bathroom and…” the confession was whispered in the meagre space between your faces, Neil’s voice taking on the tone you already knew yet had not heard a while.

The low, husky notes reverberated through your veins, erasing any uncertainties you could have had. None of that mattered. You had Neil to do as you pleased, and he had you. For however long it would last. For however long it would be mutually beneficial. Of course.

Now, with the promise of what could be placed so openly in front of you, you did not want to waste a second longer. Time was precious enough. Ignoring the pounding in your heart and the way Neil’s fingers slipped down the slope of your throat to loosely rest over your collarbone, you decimated the space to nothing but millimetres and whispered:

“Next time, you can just ask” upon his silent question, you nodded, confirming what you hoped would be evident enough, “I’d let you” curling your fingers around his hand touching your collarbone, you pressed your joined hands over your heart and closed the gap to leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

The resistance from claiming his lips was running thinner by the minute. But, as with most things, you needed Neil to take that step. To confirm his words with something much more tangible than your entangled hands and knees pressed close.

“You’d let me do what?” Neil tilted his head slightly as if trying to get a better reading of you.

From the depth of feelings, he must have seen on your face.

The slight smug tint to his smile let you know it was all just a pose. He had it figured out already. Except that being a little shit that he sometimes tended to be, Neil wanted to hear you say it. Assuredly. Loudly. Just so there was no room for doubt and a chance to confirm what you both knew. The desire was very much mutual. Sometimes, especially at night, you liked to recollect the exact feel of his hands on your body and the sounds he made when he came inside you. Those memories were enough to make you climax.

Neil had that much power over you for better or for worse. Somehow, even before actively opening your mouth to speak, you already knew you would not put up a fight. There was no point.

“Whatever you want,” squeezing his hand that was comfortably placed in your lap, you made sure to meet his gaze when stating the obvious.

Neil took it with a blinding smile, his hand letting go of yours to venture up your neck again, lightly brushing over the faded bruises as if he could still remember where he had marked you a week before. You did not tell him that the morning after you took a picture of yourself in the bathroom mirror. Just to have another thing to remember him by.

“And now?” with your proximity, you could feel his breath fan your face with every word spoken.

The intensity in Neil’s gaze was almost too much. Almost, for it was exactly what you needed to be brave again. It strengthened the resolve blooming beneath your skin as you cupped his cheek and stroked the stubble with your thumb. It was impossible not to notice how Neil closed his eyes upon your move, leaning into your palm as if that was what he needed. With the evidence of your shared wants so clearly displayed, you did not need further courage to say what has been nagging at your brain for the past hours. One request gnawing at your mind, heart and soul, impossible to ignored.

“Now just kiss me” frowning at the needy tone of your voice, you waited for Neil’s eyes to snap open to add what was only aimed to be a further persuasion, “Please. It’s been too long,” noting the hunger in his gaze, you knew you did not have to convince him to give you what you asked for.

He wanted it too, only-

“A week” his lips twisted into an amused smirk as he arched his eyebrow in the face of your hunger.

Any other time, you would have let him indulge in it. You would have let him be a nuisance to fulfil the internal quota Neil seemed to have set for himself. But tonight, you had no patience left.

“Exactly. Too long,” freeing your hand to draw him even closer with a hold over his jacket, you closed your eyes and slid your palm to the back of his neck, angling Neil the way you needed him.

Neil did not need further pointers. You heard his quiet groan, half-swallowed by your mouth and felt him pull you as close as physically possible with his arm around your waist and a hand on your cheek. Your body moulded to his shape, lips slanting over his with practised ease. That first swipe of your tongue across his lower lip instantly reminded you exactly why his kisses were something you missed so desperately. The familiar taste filled your senses, making you dig your fingertips in the hair on his nape, tugging gently at the golden locks. It was impossible not to let out a quiet moan straight into his opening mouth. Neil’s tongue greedily collected the sound, mapping the inside of your mouth with attention to detail that still astounded you. As did his unwavering hold, arm gently supporting your back and keeping you close, nestled into his chest and the warmth it provided.

You kissed until oxygen became a prized commodity you could not willingly give up. Even if you wanted to. Only then, with a final decisive peck on his closing lips, you leaned back (only as far as Neil would allow) and opened your eyes. He was one step ahead, staring at you with a soft smile. There was no choice but to mirror the expression, relaxing your hold on his neck and pressing your palm flat over his heart. Neil’s thumb stroked your cheekbone, eliciting an embarrassingly affectionate look in your eyes. As if hoping to rectify its impact, you dropped his gaze and let go of him, aware that more tenderness between you would only spell trouble. And that was the last thing you needed.

As if reading your mind, a feat you were half-sure Neil was capable of (all things considered), he dropped his hands, letting go of you and offered another reassuring smile. A simple gesture yet sufficient in helping your heart rate drop to normal levels. A cursory glance out the window assured you had not accidentally missed your stop - another win for the nonexistent tally. Almost as good as the very next thing Neil chose to say:

“Soon, I might also have that other answer for you” his nonchalant tone was a striking contrast to the previous certainty and smugness.

But it did its job, drawing you in with ease. Despite the fading awkwardness, you met his gaze and noted the sincerity you could see there. The genuine wish to both make you comfortable again and share that one significant piece of his story you did not yet possess.

“The one that got you in trouble tonight?” risking a sly look, you arched an eyebrow and leaned back in the creaky plastic chair.

While Wheeler indirectly told you to drop it, there was no chance you would listen. And especially not when it was just you and Neil, alone and open to each other like always.

You knew you had hit the jackpot with your guess when Neil winced, a passing shell-shocked expression on his face hinting at slight trauma of the kind that only the closest friends could inflict upon one another. Whatever happened when John all but hauled him out of the room was not pleasant. And it only added to the curiosity in your soul.

“It wasn’t- Yes, that one” interrupting his attempt at deflection, Neil nodded, his smile dropping in favour of something much more serious.

It was not a sight you wanted to see. It seemed wrong. Especially then in an empty carriage with the flickering lights after such a pleasant evening. As much as you wanted to know, constantly consumed with the eagerness to unveil that remaining piece of the puzzle labelled ‘Neil’ (the label was blue, with the glittery gold letters and pink heart-shaped embellishments), the other part of your brain hated seeing him so sombre. Hated the fading smiles and the uncertainties those grey moments tended to unleash within Neil. There was no question about what you needed to do.

“That’s okay, I already know all I need” without letting yourself falter, you reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder and offered him a bright smile.

Hoping to convey the most important message – it could wait. There was no rush. Nothing better to do but enjoy what you shared without further need to complicate it.

“Which is?” the hesitation in his question only drove the point forward, helping you eradicate the remaining inhibitions.

Even if just for this one moment. You knew your time was running out, with the St. John’s Wood station approaching mercilessly. If you were in luck, there were perhaps three minutes to spare. Three minutes to show Neil his secret did not matter at all.

Your hand slid down his chest to comfortably settle atop his knee, the warmth of his body slowly becoming your favourite type of anchor. Neil glanced at your subtle move, but he stayed still. Almost as if afraid to move and break the spell. This fear, too, had to be quelled immediately.

“That I’m allowed to do this” with a whisper, you leaned in and closed the gap again by covering his mouth in a gentle kiss. Where previously there was hunger and desire, this time tenderness reigned, helping you settle the right pace with measured pecks and soothing caresses of your hands upon his body. Neil matched you beat for beat, drawing you closer again and gladly accepting all that you were giving. You kissed until a familiar crackle of the PA system made you separate, panting mouth and hazed eyes shared between you. Grinning like a lunatic, you leaned back in for a split second to kiss his cheek and stood up before Neil had a chance to react, “And that you’re my best friend” it almost felt like a relief to say out loud. Especially when the confession was received with Neil’s surprised, yet blinding smile, breaking through the paralysis induced by your sudden actions. The train began to slow down, approaching your station platform. Without another word or reckless act, you approached the doors and turned your head towards him with a simple farewell “Goodnight” as soon as it slid open, you left the carriage.

#neil tenet #tenet movie #tenet #tenet 2020 #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet fanfic #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson x you #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson imagine #deadlines & commitments

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razorblade180 · 7 months

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Ignited 5: Hidden Attack

Ch 4 <-

With no major distractions and vigor to spare, Yujin continued running through the Forever Fall, occasionally coming across pits with future peers trapped inside. She knew better than to completely tank her time but that didn’t stop her from snapping tree limbs and tossing it one at an angle.

“Climb it and then pay the favor forward!” She yelled as she ran. There was a high chance the others would follow the example. Maybe not for righteous reasons, but for the fact that they were all being recorded. No way they would pass if they were caught being too incompetent to escape a deep hole and ignoring others.

Jael kept watching the performance but in all honesty, it wasn’t much. Yujin hardly came across anything worthy of displaying real combat skills. Nevertheless, she watched. Several other contestants had made their way back to the beginning, including the boy in the fox mask. She was only familiar with the boy under it from last year’s departure. Why he was wearing a mask, she didn’t know. Wasn’t keen on asking why either. That was until he approached her to watch as well.

“Sup.” Tenzen said casually. “We really haven’t been properly introduced. My family knows your family and all that jazz. I’m Tenzen. Currently being called-”

“TZ.” Her gaze shifted to him slightly. “What’s with the mask?”

“Oh this old thing? Hehe, I’m a street performer that’s decently sized online.”

Jael vaguely remembers hearing that alias before. Her mind hasn’t been on many other hobbies or interests for awhile now. “That doesn’t make much sense. A group of people called your name earlier, so the mask isn’t hiding much.”

“Oh you misunderstand. People know me for my mask. Not my face. I came here pretty conspicuously but with all the eyes Yujin and her family drew, I went ahead and took some of the heat off.”

“Hmm.” Jael went back to focusing on the screens. “Lucky for her she has so many in her corner.”

Her tone was rather dry and lacking any enthusiasm. Even so, Tenzin got a weird vibe. He only really knew what Yujin told him about Jael. The girl definitely didn’t get out. Lack of communication was to be expected? “Looking for someone in particular? A friend maybe?”

“They already made it through after you. Watching your competition pays off.”

Okay, maybe her social skills were fine? He just wasn’t expecting her to be the super serious type. “That’s true. If you ask me though, nothing is more important than keeping yourself loose until the final moments. All rigid things snap under tension.”

“Or become compacted. Then they become the pressure others bear. But yes…your words have merit.”

“Yeah…” he trailed off, walking away to leave the girl to her own devices. “See ya around.”

“Probably.” Jael barely gave him the time of day. Although, he was pretty keen on the uptick. She made no effort to hide who exactly she was looking at on the monitor. It was a real shame she couldn’t see his face though.

Lilith watched the entire interaction from afar with Canary. She looked at her future teacher to see a level of scrutiny in her gaze. “Something the matter?”

“That girl rubs me the wrong way. It’s common for some people to be calm during examination, but unbothered? I can understand boredom; I definitely was. This though…”

“Maybe it’s your natural biases? Worried she has a grudge against half your family tree?”

“Pfft, depends on the half.” She crossed her arms. “Are you really telling me you don’t feel anything? I’ve been told you have quite the intuition.”

“It’s nothing worth bragging about.” Canary wasn’t wrong to feel tension though. From the looks of it, their esteemed guests were all operating on a different level of tension. “I’m not privy to the ins and outs of every single detail, but there’s definitely something in the air that’s dying to rear its face.”

“So you agree? Regardless, we can handle it. That I’m certain of.”

“Should we though?” Lilith raised a brow. She put her hands behind her back and cocked her head to the side.

“What does that mean?”

“I’ve noticed that despite this being your first time in a while being on this side of Remnant, you would rather speak to me more than the family you have several feet away. And when you do, it’s rather…peckish.”

“Umm, y-you’re point?” Canary wasn’t expecting Lilith to become suddenly off putting.

“You clearly have your own tension you could probably confront now, but like most clever people, you want to do it unimpeded. Correct?”

“I’m also working right now. This is sorta on the job training.”

“And this Jael girl is taking a test. I’m sure whenever she chooses to act, it’ll be on her terms. We could become hurdles much like this course, but there’s only a way around.”

“No offense, but it sounds like you’re content with watching.”

Lilith gave a full grin. “Isn’t that the job? Don’t forget, I’m still a student at the end of the day. Drama among peers is interesting; but don’t worry. Count on me to make sure nothing gets to the point of being irreversible.”

Her words didn’t exactly inspire confidence, but Canary couldn’t say she wasn’t interested. To think so many people around her had something more than meets the eye.

“I’d believe her words if I were you.” Glynda said, maintaining her gaze on the students and the paper she grades them on. “Lilith has an annoying way of being correct more often than not.”

The girl couldn’t help but giggle to herself as she placed her hands on her hips. “Why does it have to be an annoyance exactly?”

Canary could see why her cousin had a soft spot for Lilith. The girl had an odd but attractive personality about her. “Birds of a feather.” She mumbled, turning back towards the screens.

xxxxx

“Alley oop!” Yujin cried out, flinging a straggling beowulf into an incredibly thick wall. She had seen the obstacle back at the other wall, but now that she was up close she could tell an incredible punch would be pretty mediocre against it. Not to mention it was smoother than the last one.

“C’mon. We have a brain for a reason.” She looked both ways to see it stretch out forever. If there was an end, which there had to be, it would eat up too much time to get around it.

A few people she helped had immediately started to climb or even warp short distances up. It would’ve been nice if her kindness was returned in this moment, but Yujin knew it really is a matter of circumstance if anyone could help her. The more she thought out about the singular reality made her ponder if this test was also meant to give a pretty brutal insight of their shortcoming. “I’m in deep water now.” She groaned.

Years of not designing firearms into her weapon suddenly felt like a dumb idea. Tenzen probably rocket jumped! Oh well. No use crying over spilt milk. She had to think of something soon. That’s when a different problem arrived….

“HEEEELLLP!” Cried a girl that was no older than her. She came running out of the thicket and would’ve hit the wall if Yujin didn’t grab her.

“Wow wow wow! Why are you shaking!? The girl’s eyes were shaking with fear and her clothes were covered in mud.

“I- I can feel it! It keeps stalking me! Always getting closer! Eating the grimm!”

Yujin couldn’t believe her ears. A chill went down her back. “Eating?”

The girl nodded furiously. “We need everyone to leave! I’m not cut out for this! I’m only alive because I can feel it!” She tried getting out of Yujin’s grip but she wasn’t going anywhere. “Let go! It’s still stalking!”

“Slow down! What type of grimm!?”

“I don’t know! But it’s huge! The vibrations, I feel them! It’s my semblance!” The girl felt like she could die on the spot, eyes flooding with tears. “It’s getting closer!”

A semblance that involved vibrations. Yujin has been vigilant and she doubted the faculty would leave a grimm in the area too dangerous for a novice to kill. That only left one terrifying thought; Yujin looked down at the dirt. A second later, the minerals trembled more than the frightened girl.

“Shit.” Yujin tossed the girl sky high in the direction of the wall and onlooking participants. She was glad she acted when she did, because now the ground at her feet was gone; shattered to pieces as a massive Death Stalker came lunging out.

xxxxxx

“YUJIN!!” Yang yelled as she watched the screen in immediate horror.

Raven immediately grabbed her hilt but a golden portal opened with Lilith already dashing through it before Raven could draw the blade.

Lilith came sliding out with her auburn bow and drew the golden string back, ready to fire at the beast; her eyes widened in shock to see that while Yujin was in the right pincer, she wasn’t exactly in danger. “Wow…”

Yujin held both sides of the crackling claw open with pure strength. Lilac eyes glared into the many golden eyes of the monster as it tried clipping her with the left claw. Yujin was fortunately still quicker than it, hoisting herself out of its hold and jumping over the second attack. It’s tail flicked rapidly, prompting her to cross both her arms before taking a stab. However, as it struck, a blinding gleam of light flashed by them, severing the stinger. Yujin landed safely and turned her head left as she heard a tree thud. Standing on a branch was Jael sheathing her sword.

The young swordsman looked at the girl with indifference. “Shouldn’t you move now?”

“Uh right!” Yujin grabbed the huge stinger and jumped back. The Death Stalker tried to charge at her but immediately howled in agony as a barrage of arrows blinded several eyes.

It raised both claws to dig down again, yet found no dirt as it struck a glyph. Canary came diving out of the portal with Harbinger crashing down, cutting off a pincer before changing to scythe mode and raking through several legs. The beast only screamed louder until it was silenced, choked by a stinger that was beamed right into its mouth. Canary looked back to see Yujin still in a spear chucking stance. “Nice throw.”

The girl's eyes went back to blue as she took a breath and shrugged. “Yeah? Well y’know?”

Lilith saw the Grimm begin to fade so she turned her gaze to her future peers who looked from the wall, spotting the worried girl who was thrown. Looks like she was physically safe. “I trust all of you are physically well? Please continue and take this moment to understand where you are trying to get accepted into. With all that said…I apologize for this disruption.”

It was the first time today that Lilith actually sounded somber. It wasn’t her fault a Grimm this dangerous was hiding underground. Still, Canary doubts that fact would make her feel better. Instead she put attention on Jael. “Hey? While I appreciate a quick call to actions and am grateful you aided my family, I have to ask you to refrain from doing anything reckless. As talented as you might be, you’re not even a student.”

“Yet.” Jael added confidently. “The portal was opened right next to me. It only made sense to move in.”

Yujin smiled cheerfully. “Can’t argue with that. Not that I needed the save, but I appreciated it all the same! Thank you!”

“It’s nothing worth mentioning.”

Jael jumped down from the tree and made her way back to the portal. Yujin really didn’t think much of it. Jacquelyn did say that Jael needs her focus. Although with skills like hers, Yujin couldn’t imagine why. She didn’t even see the blade, only Jael putting it away. Definitely Adam’s kid.

“Soooo…” Yujin batted her eyes at the two people in charge. “Do I get to walk through the portal? I handled this situation pretty well after all.”

“Tah!” Canary scoffed, “So now you want special treatment. From what I heard, you didn’t even have to take this test since you got a recommendation letter! Sorry squirt, handle the wall!”

“Hehe… worth a shot. No big deal though. I have my ways.”

Canary and Lilith were planning to head back but watched curiously as Yujin made her way towards the wall with a fist raised to the sky!

“Lil? What’s the likelihood she’s about to break her hand on that wall?”

“You tell me. She’s your cousin. Also, Lil?” We’re onto nicknames already?”

Yujin took a deep breath before swinging downward. Not at the wall, but the ground right next to it and under her feet. The single blow was enough to rattle the ground, reducing the spot into rubble and making a crater. Yujin looked straight ahead and sure enough, it was nothing but more dirt ready to be obliterated.

More sounds of tremendous force shook the rock at Lilith’s and Canary’s feet. The former couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hahaha! Well that’s one way to do it! Points for creativity.” Lilith starts walking to the portal.

Canary followed her with a smile on her face. “You make it sound like she needs those points.”

They both returned to the starting area and Canary looked at her family to see that calm expressions returned to them. “I am amazed that no one else ran through the portal with the way you screamed.”

Yang’s face went completely red. “Well…you two missed the part where she caught the claw. After that I may have realized I may have shouted a little too loudly…” She kicked a rock.

Jaune was perfectly calm the entire time. “I knew she could handle it. I’ve caught her in the rain fighting bears before.”

“You mean…the Ursa’s on Patch?” Ruby asked, only to see her father, Jaune, and aunt sigh heavily.

“No.” They said in unison while Tenzen tried to keep it together. He may have a few ridiculous videos to share later.

Not long after, The girl of the hour came walking through the proper portal. Her gloves were covered in soil and she smelled like nature, but she was here.

“Wait…” she blinked twice, realizing where she was. “That was the last obstacle!? It just loops back here!?”

Glynda handed her a green slip of paper. “Congratulations on passing. You will move on to the final portion.”

“I would hope so after what happened! It feels like involuntary extra credit!”

“Welcome to Beacon.” Glynda smirked and walked away. Lilith gave a silent nod to Yujin that basically said, “yeah pretty much.”

With the stragglers arriving and the second portion coming to a close, Glynda gathered in front of the screens as the second group was soaring into view “Alright everyone, well done to those who have made it this far. You will be flown to the next and final destination where you will have a proper chance to recover, eat, and prepare for the next challenge.”

“Is that another lie?” Marcus asked, his voice drained of energy.

“A well deserved question, but an unnecessary one. I’m not in the mindset of deceptive word play, unlike certain people.” She looked at the two culprits. They didn’t even look guilty.

Yujin leaned closer to Tenzen. “I don’t think it was that deceptive.”

“Oh, yeah you missed the funny part. Apparently the people who chose to prepare in town didn’t fail. They’re on their way now.” He pointed to the distant airship.

The girl fell silent, blinking twice as she realized she hasn’t the foggiest clue about how they are being graded if the second group is about to run a used obstacle course. “Elite schools are insane.” Yujin raised her hand. “Headmaster?”

“Yes? Is something the matter?”

“I trust your words, but can we have a show of good faith? What is our final challenge exactly?”

Glynda raised a brow. “ It’s the same as it is every year. For confirmation of that, look no further to the alumni.”

The aspiring heroes turned to the adults. Ruby and Jaune casually took a step away from everyone. “Don’t look at us. We got in on special terms.”

“Tah! Special terms you say.” Glynda scoffed, specifically at Jaune. “Ms. Rose did indeed stop a crime. What was yours, Mr. Arc?” Her eyes narrowed, knowing exactly what he did.

Fortunately Nora was there to pull everyone’s attention. She raised her arm up and chanted, “Hahaha! Aptitude Sparring!”

Those like Yujin, Tenzen, and even Jael were actually aware of this, but it was clear many others found themselves caught off guard. Though the confirmation was reassuring to Yujin. In the grand scheme of events, this exam checked knowledge, practical environmental skills, and combat.

Glynda continued explaining to the crowd. “In this line of work, battles never stop at Grimm unfortunately. It only makes sense to see how you all go against people. I recommend you all take this seriously. You may find this challenge to be the hardest one yet. That is all.”

This is it. At last, this is it! A golden opportunity to face Yujin. Jael could barely contain her enthusiasm, which became increasingly evident with the way her hand gripped the hilt of her blade. Jacquelyn noticed this and couldn’t stand idly by.

“Jael…remember why you’re here.”

“I know exactly why I’m here.” She said immediately. “I would’ve come last year if I didn’t know why I personally chose to wait, and you know that too.”

“There’s a dozen reasons why last year’s plans fell through. A vendetta wasn’t one of them for me. If it was then I wouldn’t have trained you.”

“What’s with the virtuous act all of a sudden?” Jael faced her mother and looked her right in the eyes. “Why are you acting like you aren’t upset, or like you have no clue what my motivations are? I’ve made no effort to truly hide them; unlike my name.” The venom in her voice leaked through in those final words. “I’ve been nothing but patient and obedient. Are you saying it’s been for nothing?”

“I’m saying don’t let it be for nothing! You don’t even know if you’re facing her so stop getting worked up and don’t do something you’ll come to regret. I have no right to tell you to hold in your rage, but understand I will always fundamentally disagree with you if you choose to direct that anger harmfully. Don’t waste your future by being your father’s past.”

Jael’s eyes widened, her heart murmuring from the accusation. “I thought you would have more faith in your daughter. This isn’t anything like he’s done. I thought you of all people would understand remotely just what type of anger I have. However, unlike you, I won’t erase a bloodline.”

Jael walks off without looking back.”I’ll settle with the death of a dream.”

A quiet tension remained in the air. Jacquelyn didn’t even find the opportunity to bring the girl’s blade. She had unsheathed it for the sake of dealing with the grimm but something about it felt…unnatural. Almost as if she was rushing to put it away. The entire thing left Jacquelyn feeling more uneasy. For a moment, the carefully crafted mask Jacquelyn displayed began to slip as her eyes flickered. She took a deep breath, concealing the internal storm. Although now she wondered if the mask was of any use? It clearly wasn’t fooling her youngest. As for the oldest…

Jacquelyn let the air in her lungs escape mournfully. “Stay strong…”

xxxxxxx

It was a silent prayer but a prayer nonetheless that was meant for the girl who quietly sat in a hidden hospital room with her tear stained face resting on the bed; her soft eyes keeping their gaze on the man so still that you could mistake him for a corpse. Her stomach remained empty all day, and her strength only appeared to hold the man’s thin, frail fingers.

Her voice was dry and quiet, the same as it was countless years ago; back in that dark, dark place. “Dad, please…” once again, tears greeted her face and her vibrant white tiger ears fell. “Please…wake up.”

#rwby #rwby au #rwby ignited #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #lilith aspen #glynda goodwitch #raven branwen #canary branwen #yujin xiao long #lie tenzen #jael frost #sienna frost #jacquelyn frost

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j2zara · 2 months

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As the originator of Bluejay I have some formless thoughts on the names for the other two that don’t necessarily have to be integrated mass fandom but

Esme @neerdowellnarrator suggestion for j3 n j4 to be magpie (greed connection) and canary (the omen, the one trying to warn the others to get out before it’s too late) is genuinely brilliant I love it so much

I also like nightingale for j4

I will say, tho. I think J2 is fully ready to glom onto Bluejay as his name name but for j3 and j4 the bird nicknames are just that. They’re Porter pet names but that’s not who they Are.

J4 wants a person name. She’s been mulling this over for a while and she’s been trying to find the right one but nothing has clicked yet (nothing has clicked for me yet ok)

J3 is the most ambivalent about being j3. He does not like being Three but doesn’t mind being J3. For some reason the distinction feels important. In some ways I actually think he tries to own being J3.

Doesn’t stop him from playing around with what the others call him tho but the tone when he workshops is a lot more unserious than j4’s like. Scribbled frenzied notebook of ideas and crossed out names.

J4 wants a name that is not evocative of Jace at all. J3 doesn’t mind a Jace-derivative. Jess, Jax, Jasper etc (that’s an Elijah @delinquentbookworm special thank you) (on a personal note I actually like all of these for him. Even if Jess is mainly bc I can’t stop thinking abt Jess Ross’s cabbage tramp stamp. J3 wishes that was him)

#jan.txt

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dailycass-cain · 1 year

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After much hype, a new volume of Birds of Prey was released this past week. Was it worth the hype? How was the Cass content in it?

Well, time to air my thoughts on Birds of Prey #1.

The first thing that kind of astonished me is the AMOUNT of Cass we got in this issue. Literally, I think writer Kelly Thompson just establishes WHO the keys are for this comic.

It's Dinah and Cass.

Like a part of me thought we'd get a little bone with Cass that sets her up, and she'd disappear amongst the other members. Nope. She gets as much fleshed out in this story as Dinah.

That has me curious given the setup alone of Dinah getting this team together to save Sin (yaaaaah. FINALLY!).

There's A LOT of potential here. A part of me still muses if this will get acknowledged from the ye old Black Canary mini which pulled Sin away from Dinah.

It isn't lost to me at all that throughout this issue Thompson littered a CORNUCOPIA of homages to past Cass stories (and probably other stories too just that I'm not Daily Zealot 😋).

Take for example the aftermath of Cass's introduction in the issue. Besides the sequence being STUNNINGLY drawn and colored by Leonardo Romero and Jordie Bellaire. There's this nugget.

So the very League who broke Dinah/Sin are what paired her with Cass. But that's not the ONLY poetry Thompson delivers in this comic when pertaining to Cass.

There are OTHER callbacks.

Namely, the reason why Cass instantly agrees is "sisterhood" I know someone on Tumblr brought up Cass knowing its importance due to Sandra/Carolyn but I see it as more of a DIFFERENT reason. Something that sadly just ended.

*cough* Batgirls should be still going. Give me three comics of Cass a month dagnabit. *cough*

There are two others but I'll get to that soon. Can I just gawk at this page more?

Again, there are nice parallels here with the Brightest Day BoP volume. Dinah assessing someone just that this time IT IS CASS. No hoopla or things to deny certain other writers from doing this.

We actually have Cass officially on the BoP team in the main DCU.

It's just that this intro means a lot. The moment I got to this page I had the dumbest goofiest grin on my face. Not instant tears (those did occur this issue) like certain other comics of Cass I've read. Just, "Oh yeah this writer gets the character."

Like it was whiplash reading this issue after a certain OTHER comic this week. Like, this issue just feels like a nice pace just going from one scene to the other.

It just flowed so perfectly from one to the other establishing the other members as Dinah and Cass (or all four ladies) recruited them.

This leads me to what DID get me emotional about this issue: Cass meeting Barda.

Like so many years I wanted this. So many times neither character was synched with the other to do it (death and limbo sadly).

This leads me to what DID get me emotional about this issue: Cass meeting Big Barda.

Like so many years I wanted this. So many times neither character was synched with the other to do it (death and limbo sadly). But it FINALLY happened.

And… I'm tearing up looking over the pages plus my mind is on it. 😅

Wrassin frassin….

Like Thompson delivered in spades with Cass/Barda. This is everything I'd imagined and then some.

So with all that out of the way of me gawing at this all. What you really want from me. My thoughts on a certain Cass vs. Harley Quinn.

The truth if you haven't been following me the last few days is.. I didn't mind it. There is a precedent of Cass having trouble with folks like Joker (though he was the easiest to tell in the end), Mad Dog, Mr. Fun, and Harley.

Just that you think I didn't notice what you did Thompson but I caught the homage. Harley and Cass plunge off a building (yes that is Harley not Babs).

Besides the homage and precedent I know many are overlooking how this is all told from Cass's perspective and nothing she does in this tale showcases WHY Harley should be part of this team, other than Cass saying so.

Cass is an unreliable narrator due to well her disorder and can't describe the best words to what happened. Stephanie Brown, she is not at detailing everything PERFECTLY.

I just view it like a Pink Panther film. Cass is the straight man, and Harley was "Clouseauing" her way throughout the scene.

But I digress, if anything the scene made me wonder, "HOW THE HELL DID HARLEY LEARN A LEOPARD PUNCH?!" Only a handful of fighters know that.

HOW THE HECK DID HARLEY KNOW?!

Did the fight make Harley look good? Not really to me. It's Cass's PoV that did it and it didn't convince Dinah, Barda, and Zealot. Just the insistence that Harley is the wild card edge they need (which cues the obligatory reason for Harley being on this team and nothing more).

Still, that particular moment didn't ruin my fun (unlike a prior comic tried to achieve). Birds of Prey #1 was everything I wanted and then some. It made me smile and it made me tear up. It gave me that good Cass content. 😁😁😁

Like I'm pumped for the next issue. Because again, it's giving me something that has always left me lackluster prior. Cass vs. Amazons? More Cass/Dinah? More Cass/Barda? Why is the mysterious person not wanting Babs on this?

Okay. You got me comic.

I really REALLY loved this comic. Like, I never thought in my years as a Cass fan we'd be getting so much content like this. Like, after the heartbreaking loss of Batgirls (and Spirit World being a mini aka I DON'T WANT IT TO END), this series was the pickup I needed.

So to all the creatives involved in this comic. 🙏🙏🙏🙏

#cassandra cain #dc comics #my thoughts

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sleepy-seal · 8 months

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Welcome back to another week of: TMAGP & Treats!

This week's treat: Blood Lemon Poundcake

A fitting name for the subject of the 4th episode. Ingredients were baking mix, water, one egg, and melted butter.

And without further ado, here is my notes and thoughts that I have for this episode:

- started preheating the oven to 350 degrees

- i'll be using baking mix this time so the quality may not be the greatest

- SAM BUDDY WHAT ARE YOU DOING

- ACCESSING RESTRICTED FILES????? STOP PLEASE THAT'S WHAT THE NARRATIVE WANTS

- ahhhhh "the magnus protocol" it all makes sense

- I FUCKING KNEW ITTTTTTTTTTTT AGUSTUS WOULD FINALLY TALK IN THIS

- ALSO WAIT WHO THE FUCK IS AGUSTUS

- PETER LUKAS?????????,

- WAIT JONAH

- JONAH JONAH JONAH JONAH

- is this a will?

- violin violin violin

- OH THANK GOD WE HAVE EGGS I WAS WORRIED THEY DIDN'T BUY ANY

- UH OHHHHHHHHH

- WEEWOO WEEWOO WE HAVE A MURDER LETTER MURDER UP AHEAD I CAN FEEL IT

- i'm gonna be honest i wish i sifted the baking mix beforehand so maybe there would be less lumps in it

- you don't control me

- batter is pretty stiff so i'll shovel it into the pan and put it iDEATH???????

- DUDE WHAT???????

- OH MY GOD

- OH HE'S FUCKING DEAD

- OH HE'S FUCKING DEAD TOO

- what is it with these people and describing their life stories to strangers

- put in the pound cake for 40 minutes! should be enough time to listen And relisten if needed

- OUCH OUCH OUCH

- pain violin. violin that bites you and hates you so so much

- thank you so much agustus we really needed a symphonic performance

- violin wants blood mmmmm yummy yummy yum

- I KNEWWW ITTTTTTTTTT

- VIOLIN NEEDS BLOOD

- KILL MAIM DESTROY VIOLENCE VIOLENCE VIOLENCE VIOLENCE

- ohhhh so the violin makes you kill other people by music alone

- HEY LENA????? WHAT DID YOU DO

- GWEN WHAT DID YOU SEEEEEEEEEEE

- GWEN

- GWENN

- GWEENNNNNNNNNN

OKAY FINAL THOUGHTS:

one:

i was so right in my assumption that agustus would start speaking in this episode. i was surprised though with the fact that it was not elias' voice actor this time. for a bit i was convinced that it might've been peter lukas for a little bit, but it didn't make sense at the moment. it then hit me in a moment of brilliance and subsequent horror that it was most likely jonah's voice. not elias' voice, jonah's. it also fits well with the usual magpod formula. jon/martin usually read more statements, with jonah/elias occasionally reading something of his own, likely something very old and historic. very fun, i like it.

two:

Guys I Am So Worried For Sam. he is poking into places he shouldn't already, and it's only been the 4th episode. we've all seen someone who keeps digging further than they're meant to, and we've seen what happens to them. nothing good. it's a good thing that alice is trying to dissuade sam from prying further. i trust her when she says that he should stay out of it and stop looking into the magnus institute and "the protocol". as the saying goes, canaries should stay above ground.

three:

what was in that video holy shit???????? what did gwen see???? i'm having a hard time wrapping my head around what might've happened. whatever it was, it was enough to put gwendolyn off. possibly something violent, maybe even worse? it sounds like, what Did happen, either involved lena trying to hurt klaus, or hurting someone else. maybe she was even trying to destroy something else, something that would disturb ms. bouchard. and what was that about klaus disappearing again? who is klaus? just some food for thought to chew on until all is revealed later.

it just dawned on me that the video may be correlated with what lena said in ep 1. "Unfortunately, I know what climbing this particular ladder entails, and you don’t have what it takes." perhaps this is tied to the video. maybe what she had to do was much uglier and grim than expected.

four:

lastly, and the most important thing i feel is, i have a feeling our good pals chester, norris, and agustus have a bigger hand on things than i initially thought. i'm sure people have said this already (which i have yet to see), however i feel like people have a point in saying that freddie is doing things on purpose. even colin said that the computer was doing things On Purpose. it might be a little crazy but hear me out.

with the security notification, it's a weird thing that it got directed to alice and not the IT guy, right? well, what if the programs intentionally redirected the notification to alice and not colin? i'm sure that chester and norris are familiar with someone going down a rabbit hole and went too deep to turn back. i think they might have sent it to alice because they want sam to stop looking, and he needs to hear it from someone he trusted.

another thing that points to me believing that freddie may be more in the know than we initially thought is the video sent to gwen at the end. but the real reason i have is not if they're doing it, but why. why would they send her this video? what kind of message are they trying to send? could it be that they're trying to warn her? that lena kelly is not someone to be trusted? or maybe they're giving her an answer to a question she had in her head, the reason as to why she hasn't been promoted yet and still the subordinate of mrs. kelly. or maybe, just maybe, they're telling her what it takes for her to get what she wants. maybe it's giving her the key to a position she's wanted for years.

overall, this episode is very good and got my thinking cap on real good. the blood lemon poundcake was also a real treat. have a good day, cheers!

#tmagp & treats #tmagp spoilers #tmagp

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year

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Chapter 3: 2019, North Island Naval Base - Tinkerbell

Chapter 3 Part 2 of You Are My Soulmate

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Description: You've been unable to deny the pull Rooster Bradshaw has on you. But, he avoids you like you're the plague. When a new mission is given to the pilots, you're honored that your team is to be involved. But the new mission brings new challenges, both amongst the teams you work with and their planes. When Rooster flagrantly disregards what you said for safety, you weren’t expecting the pull you've been feeling to go far deeper than you would ever expect it to.

Disclaimers: Misogynistic speech. Mentioned Homosexual Relationships. Angst. Flagrant disregard for protocols or Authority. Angst. Anguish.

This content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting tag-list requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story.

Warnings: Female!Reader

Word Count: 3792

A/N: Hello, hello! Here's Tinkerbell’s part to the happenings of Chapter 3! Her pain was really hard to write and portray accurstely. In any case, I hope you all love this chapter and feel free to scream at me for it!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

Your mind seems to turn in circles the more you think about it. How could Bradley Bradshaw be your soulmate? Sure he has a gorgeously maintained canary blue truck. Sure he ticks off all of the physical features your soulmate should have. But he's a dick! Your one soft moment with him during the AMDO inspection hasn't changed anything. He still glares whenever he sees you and when you’re with Jake? He’s extra nasty. You’re still not sure what you did to make him hate you so much. If he’s your soulmate, how could he hate you?

You’ve heard first hand how contentious Jake’s relationship had been with him before the Uranium Mission. Is that what this is? Leftover animosity because a pretty girl is close to Jake? Does he not see how happy Jake and Javy are together? They’re so easy to read for you, and you’re sure for at least Phoenix, but it’s hard to know if you haven’t been explicitly told so.

He's a bit of a space cadet whenever you see him following the AMDO inspection. Everytime you make eye contact, he seems to run into something or blush and walk away. Jake takes great pleasure in exploiting this new development, because your best friend is nothing but a dick at the best of times. But even Jake’s fun gets cut short as Top Gun seems to be held in a vice. Rear Admiral Mitchell rarely naps on the sofa in your team’s hangar anymore and all of the admiralty are notoriously short tempered. It’s not the midwinter budget crunch either. You’ve been hearing murmurings of a high profile mission from your friends at the Pentagon, and you have a terrible feeling about what is to come.

When the admiralty assembles your team, the Daggers and the Top Gun cohort in the biggest hangar on base bright and early on a Monday morning, the sick feeling in your stomach intensifies.

“Aviators, following the success of the Dagger Squadron during what we’re choosing to call the Uranium Mission, the Navy assembled the Daggers as a hit squadron. Your mission was to assist at Top Gun and assist the Navy by partaking in all of those missions for which your unique expertise would be necessary. Your specialties are uniquely necessary for this mission. But you alone will not be enough. This is where the current Top Gun cohort comes in.”

“Aviators.” Admiral Mitchell pulls up blueprints and pictures of bunkers located in the middle of a jungle. “These bunkers, aviators, are your target. They’re located just below ground level in a natural depression, surrounded by a Faraday cage and heavily guarded by both ground troops and patrolling jets."

“So what’re we doing, Mav? A bombing run? Why are these bunkers so important?” Phoenix looks intrigued by the prospect. It’s going to be a challenging mission, alright. You can already tell why your team is involved. That Faraday cage is going to be the biggest technological challenge.

“There’s a high-profile US Government informant in those bunkers. They’ve been captured by the enemy and profusely tortured. But we don’t know which building. As the area is heavily wooded and crawling with enemy troops, our air support will scan and identify which bunker the informant is in and laser target the building so the ground team can extract them. But that’s the easy part of the job. The hard part is getting to the enemy facility with miles of heavily patrolled airways between our entry approach and the base itself.”

“Aviators, it will be a dogfight the whole way there. They’ve got 5th gen fighters. Our only hope for survival will be splitting our complement of 16 planes into four teams of four. We’ll have three teams flying single-seater F-18s. Two of those teams will be engaging the enemy in dogfights. The third will be providing air cover for the ground team. The fourth team will be flying at high altitudes in F-15Es equipped with laser sighting and targeting systems. Using satellite imagery, this team will paint the bunker containing the informant with a geo-locked tag.”

“We have to extract the informant before the enemy moves them again. So far they’ve been moving them once a month to another bunker in the area. Our intelligence has confirmed that the informant will be moved to this facility by the end of the month. So we have a few weeks to get the timing right. Failure is not an option.”

Your team already looks ready for the challenge, scrawling ideas down on their tablets while the aviators look at the frankly ridiculous flight plan Admiral Mitchell has pulled up. While you should be doing the same, you’re struck by a couple of things. First, the pure wonder and determination in Rooster’s face. Second, you note how steep the climb is on the F-15Es. The laser sight cannot fail when it’s that high up. Neither can the heat sensors or geo-tag. You can already see the F-15E schematics in front of your eyes as well as potential failure points. You get so wrapped up in your thoughts that it takes Lieutenant Green several tries to jolt you out of your head.

“You alright, Commander?” The hangar’s nearly empty when you smile weakly at her.

“Yeah, Lieutenant Green. I have a few ideas to reinforce the F-15E so it can sustain flight at high altitudes and so the laser targeting and geo tagging functionalities remain stable at high speeds.” Your smile is soft as she excitedly begins chattering on and on.

You spend the next week and half in the hangar, working around the clock on the modifications to the F-15Es. You’re barely eating and sleeping, only years of military training ensuring that you’re presentable. Everything has to be perfect on this mission, especially if he’s going on it, and you know he will. You can’t let anything happen to him. Not to your soul.

It’s a week and a half before the mission when one of the flight crews notice that Lieutenant Bradshaw’s front landing gear isn’t deploying correctly. As the most senior Aviation Maintenance Duty Officer, you add checking out Rooster’s landing gear to your already fully stacked plate. If anything, you push it to the top of your priorities. No soulmate of yours is going up on a training hop with faulty landing gear. Of course, the only time you get to take a look at his jet is at half-past four in the morning. You know the Daggers have been running simulations at six o’clock for the past few days and hope the hour and a half is enough to assuage your worries.

Every joint in your body aches, down to the bone, and you know you don’t look much better than you feel. Your face is drawn and the bags under your eyes are so dark that they’re purple. You’ve resorted to shoving on spectacles just so you can see clearly, your eyes irritated after long hours wearing contacts around jet fumes. Time whizzes by as you slide under his jet and check out every piece. You barely notice the way grease splatters hot on your face, you’re so intent on making sure every part is functioning properly.

The rough “G’morning” you hear startles you out of your meditative work. It is Lieutenant Bradshaw, of course, and his voice sends heat rushing to your face and ties your tongue in knots.

“Lieutenant!” Your voice is a little high pitched as you desperately search for a rag to clean your hands off on. “Good Morning!”

“What’re you doing under there, huh? And so early?" God damn, Naval Aviators are another breed. Standing there in a flight suit, Bradley Bradshaw looks like sin, the baggy flame retardant material unable to hide just how muscular he is.

"One of the ground crew noticed that your front landing gear wasn't deploying to its full capacity yesterday. Before we grounded you for the day, I wanted to check it out and see if I could identify the problem and get it fixed.” You smile at him, but your smile drops off of your face as a frown takes over his.

He’s nearly glaring as he takes in every word that drops from your lips. You know this is an important mission for the aviators, but as far as you’re concerned, Bradley Bradshaw has nothing to be worried about, right?

“Did you find the problem?” His voice is a near growl as he spits the words out, getting into your face. Vitriol, you can handle, even as it hurts your heart.

"Yes, Lieutenant, I did. The hydraulics on the front landing gear aren’t deploying correctly. I’m afraid you will indeed be grounded for part of the day while I get a maintenance crew to swap out the part.” His eyebrows furrow, rage making his jaw sharp as he chews on his words. You can’t bear the rage in his face so you turn to your tablet, checking on North Island’s parts inventory and maintenance roster. As luck would have it, you have both a new landing gear and a maintenance crew available this morning. You’re almost too quick to put in a work order and replacement part requisition form to get him back up in the air.

“I can get a crew assigned, so you should be good to go by mid-morning, Lieutenant.” Your smile is hopeful even as Jake walks into the hangar with the biggest cups of coffee in a drink carrier in his hand.

“Hey, Tink!” Jake must be able to sense how exhausted you are because his Texas drawl is immediately over-exaggerated and goofy. “Your coffee, sweetheart!”

Your grin is a little goofy as you giggle out, “Hey, Jake! Thanks! I’ll come get it in a bit. Give me a few to talk to Lieutenant Bradshaw and I’ll be right there!”

“Of course! Take your time!” Your smile fades as soon as you turn back to Bradley Bradshaw, because the man is glaring at you like you’re everything that’s wrong with the world.

“Lieutenant Commander, that is unacceptable. I need to be out there, flying!” You can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves.

“I understand that, Lieutenant, probably better than anybody. But I can’t replace this part any faster if I did it myself. This is the US Navy. There are procedures that I need to follow.” You’re not sure who you’re trying to placate, him or yourself. Every dirty look he levels you makes you feel like the worst person on the planet.

“Can we at least talk to Mav? See if there isn’t a spare jet or something that I can borrow?” He looks rather like a little boy wheedling for more play time before bed. But you can’t give in to the look in his eyes.

You exhale softly, before pulling up the jet inventory on base. You show him the jets, murmuring, “What do you mean, is there a spare jet you can borrow? This is the Navy, Bradshaw, not a library. As you can see, there isn’t a single jet on base that you could be assigned temporarily.”

But when you look back up, Bradley’s puffing up rather like the one time Jake ran afoul of a rooster at Seresin Ranch. Rage is seeping from every single one of his pores. Just as you open your mouth to reiterate that protocol wouldn’t let you do this even if you tried, he’s spitting words at you again.

“You’re doing this for Bagman, aren’t you?” He’s completely in your face. It takes you far too long to figure out who he’s talking about. Jake?! Where does he fit into this conversation? As far as you know all he did was bring you coffee.

“Why the hell would I do anything for Lieutenant Seresin?” You turn your tablet off and set it on the workbench to the side before turning around and crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Because you want him to get on one of the teams for the mission!” You can’t help the laugh that pours unbidden out of your mouth. That’s one of the most ridiculous things you’ve ever heard.

“Why would I give Jake an advantage that nobody else has?” Bradley just looks at you in shock, swallowing for several moments before turning and charging out the door, muttering “Well, that’s just great!” as he goes.

“The hell was that about, Tink?” You slump right into Jake’s arms, your exhaustion taking the forefront of all your energy as you shrug despondently.

“I dunno, Jake. His front landing gear isn't working and I put in a work order and parts requisition form for the replacement. I told Lieutenant Bradshaw he’s grounded until the maintenance crew is done. He asked me if I was doing this so you got on the mission.” Jake’s face is pinched as he brushes the stray tear off of your cheek.

“Why’re you so worked up over him all the time, huh, sweetheart?” His innocent question sends shame coiling in your gut,

“I-I… I think he’s my soulmate, Jake. I want him to like me so badly, but I think every time he sees me, he thinks badly of me.” You’re blinking back tears with each word. “I just want to be his, Jake. That’s all. I know he’s going on this mission. I just wanted him to be safe when he’s up there.” You sniffle before accepting the coffee. “I’m okay, Jake. I promise. Go fly, flyboy. Be safe?”

You barely catalog the kiss Jake presses against your brow or the flippant salute he gives you as he walks out of the hangar. Your thoughts are a disordered exhausted mess.

You recollect yourself slowly, and are back to normal by the time your team walks in bright and early for their eight o’clock call time. It’s the first stress test of the F-15 E's laser targeting and geo-tagging system at high altitude and the energy is high. Your entire team is strapped into the comms with monitoring equipment on a long table in front of you.

Admiral Mitchell’s call of “Fight’s on!” starts the exercise and you’re captivated by the screaming squeal of the engines as the jets wheel and turn like a flock of metallic birds. The sun streams hot on your head as you and your team feverishly run tests on the new systems. The first aviators up in the F-15Es are the Daggers’ Pilot/WSO pairs. Everything seems to be going well when Halo reports a dead-eye on the laser targeting system. You call for an immediate landing and your team immediately starts analyzing the data as you join them. Partway through, Lieutenant Green turns on the radio and soon enough you have a running commentary to what is happening up in the sky.

Everything is quiet for a quarter of an hour longer when you see a jet come roaring out of the maintenance hangar. You can’t believe what you’re seeing. Is that Lieutenant Bradshaw’s plane? Is he taking off? You know the maintenance crew hasn’t gotten to his plane yet because you’ve been on them about it all morning. You cram your headset back over your head and turn on your mic.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw?! What are you doing?” You know he can hear you, by the heavy breaths you can hear on the other end. But he’s choosing to ignore you.

“Your jet is still not fixed. It’s not safe for you to be up there. Lieutenant!” You’re spiraling into a panic attack. You’re responsible for all the planes up there in the sky today, and all of the pilots in them. Please let him not get hurt. Please.

All of your pleas seem to fall on deaf ears as he takes off anyways and his jet's marker joins the one dogfight team missing a plane. Your heart’s in your throat as you catalog every swooping move his jet makes. Everything seems to be fine and just as you exhale, you hear sirens blaring through the comms. It’s Bradley’s plane. You pull up the monitors on his plane and gasp at the sight of every warning light on board flashing in a discordant harmony.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, decrease altitude, now!” You’re barking out the words even as the diagnostics show near catastrophic engine failure. The jet nosedives, and you join Maverick in screaming, pleading for him to eject.

“Ejection controls are locked up, Mav! I can’t do anything!” Your heart drops at those words. There’s nothing to be done, not by you on the ground or Admiral Mitchell up in the air.

You can hear the automated voice noting the altitude as it decreases too fast to be real. Then there’s silence. Far off in the distance, you hear a boom as the fuel left in the jet explodes. You feel numb as you shakily tug the headset off and stagger to a corner to throw up. A sharp pain’s taken residence where your heart used to be and the taste of bile clouds every sense. Your legs give out, and the last thing you see before you black out is your team’s shocked faces.

You wake to panicked whispering, the beeping of hospital equipment, and a teary Texan drawl.

“Sweetheart? Sweetheart!” He sounds frantic and his yelling draws the Doctor to you.

“Lieutenant Commander? Do you know who you are? Do you know where you are?” You answer the Doctor’s questions while rubbing at the wrist that is handcuffed to the bed.

“You fainted, Lieutenant Commander, when Lieutenant Bradshaw crashed. Do you know why that could be?” The Doctor sounds perfectly matter-of-fact, but you can’t help the shame you feel.

You can’t meet Jake’s eyes as you whisper, “I think he’s my soulmate, Doctor.”

The Doctor’s intake of breath is sharp as he pulls the nurse to the side and has a flurried conversation with her. You hear the words “soulmate” and “possible” and “bond sickness” but don’t get to hear anymore, because the next thing you know Admiral Simpson is glaring down at you in your hospital bed.

“Lieutenant Commander.” He softens his expression a touch, after a cough from Warlock. “What happened today, Tinkerbell? Can you tell me?”

You let it all spill, including the pain you felt when Lieutenant Bradshaw crashed, and vacantly catalog the emotions flying across Cyclone’s face. You still feel numb and emotionless, like a film is separating you from your emotions.

“Lieutenant Junior Grade Taylor saw you working on Lieutenant Bradshaw’s jet this morning at around 0500 hours. He also overheard an altercation you had with Lieutenant Bradshaw over the feasibility of him being able to fly today.”

You have this sick foreboding feeling in your chest at Admiral Simpson’s words.

“He believes you purposely sabotaged Lieutenant Bradshaw’s jet.” You can’t breathe. Holy shit you’re going to go to prison for severely injuring your soulmate if you don’t defend yourself.

“I…” You cough, your throat completely dry. The nurse spoons a few ice chips into your mouth and you let them soothe your throat before you try speaking again.

“I was examining Lieutenant Bradshaw’s jet this morning, that is correct, Admiral. I have a report from the maintenance crew on shift yesterday during training noting the failure of the front landing gear to fully deploy.”

“So I had the crew pull Lieutenant Bradshaw’s jet into the hangar. The altercation Lieutenant Junior Grade Taylor heard us having were solely because of the jet. Lieutenant Bradshaw wanted to know how soon it would be until he could fly again. I had to inform him that I couldn’t allow him to fly until his jet had been repaired and passed all flight readiness assessments - which I was well within my rights to do, sir. That is when Lieutenant Bradshaw accused me of favoring Lieutenant Seresin and sabotaging him so he would be grounded during today’s flight operations. I was quick to correct his assumption. The next time I saw him was when his jet roared out of the hangar and took off without my clearance.”

Your hands are shaky and your voice is thready and weak as you struggle to sit up in the hospital bed.

“I have the work order and part requisition on my tablet as well as the initial report from the maintenance crew.” It’s so obvious he doesn’t believe you, even as he pulls up the relevant reports on the tablet Jake hands him.

“I see …” Admiral Simpson looks like he’d rather chew nails than concede that you’re not at fault. The Doctor pulls him to the side to brief him on your condition but you know you’re not off the hook. Not yet.

“There will be a full investigation into this incident, Lieutenant Commander. In the meantime, I order you to take one month of mandatory leave. The Doctor suspects you have bond sickness. I’m sorry for assuming that your illness was due to guilt. I have full faith that the investigators will find you not culpable for Lieutenant Bradshaw’s injuries.” You can barely breath as the full weight of Admiral Simpson’s words hit you.

He may not think you’re culpable, but the Navy is notorious for rumor-mongering. Everyone in service will hear the rumors before long. No matter what the investigators find, you’re going to be accused of trying to hurt Bradley Bradshaw, well-known Navy legacy and well-liked man. You’ll forever be known as the girl who tried to kill, and maybe succeeded, in killing your soulmate. When you tune back into the hospital room around you, the admirals are gone and only the Doctor and nurse are left in the room.

The walls feel like they’re closing in, even as the Doctor tells you what bond sickness entails. You already feel the pain and exhaustion and weakness he mentions. Combined with the complete hopelessness coursing through your system, you can barely understand what he’s saying.

With your last bit of energy, you ask softly, “What’s Lieutenant Bradshaw’s condition?”

“His plane crashed at a fairly high speed and exploded when it made contact with the ground. He’s got some burning and a lot of broken bones. We’ve put him into a coma and are monitoring his condition closely. We can’t tell you anything else, I’m afraid. You’re not on his paperwork as his soulmate.” Your heart hits rock-bottom at the doctor’s words.

“He didn’t know before he went up. I suspected, but didn’t know for sure, not until I passed out.”

Jake wraps his arms around you as the doctor’s close the door to your room. Your sobs wrack your body and wet his uniform as you fall apart in his arms.

Taglist:

🛩️ @roosters-girl 🛩️ @infamous-reindeer 🛩️ @caitsymichelle13

🛩️ @mattyskies 🛩️ @cosmic-psychickitty 🛩️ @mygyn

🛩️ @julesclues 🛩️ @greenbaby12 🛩️ @bubblegumbeautyqueen

🛩️ @briseisgone 🛩️ @soulmates8

🛩️ @meganlpie 🛩️ @daphne-turner 🛩️ @captain-fandomwriter58

🛩️ @caidi-paris 🛩️@mazzbarnes 🛩️ @thedroneranger

🛩️@super-btstrash-posts 🛩️@eli2447 🛩️@chaoticassidy

🛩️ @kmc1989 🛩️@mayhemmanaged 🛩️@desert-fern

🛩️ @cassiemitchell 🛩️ @dakotakazansky 🛩️ @cherrycola27

🛩️@roosterforme 🛩️@beccaanne814 🛩️

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster angst #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw imagine #unrequited love #soulmates #soulmate!au #angst #enemies to lovers #miscommunication

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