#where wheelchairs can just roll on and be strapped in and we can enjoy the ride

[mj-iza-writer]

I’ve been thinking about vampire hunter x lab vampire whumpee.

Imagine caretaker killing vampires all their life but suddenly decided to research vampires to better hunt them. Caretaker finally capturing whumpee, Fortunately whumpee is one of those good vampires. Caretaker of course doesn’t know this and just assumes whumpee is one of the evil vampires. Whumpee trying to explain to caretaker that they’re innocent but they’re muzzled so they can’t say anything, Even then caretaker doesn’t actively hurt whumpee outside of researching

Anyways its find to hard a trope where vampire hunters are caretakers. The last time i’ve seen vampire hunter caretaker are from ash & callum but even the author stopped updating.

So i want to thank you for doing this ask and remember to take care of yourself💛

I am so sorry about how long this took. I didn't like how the first story was going, so I rewrote it. I really hope you enjoy. Thankyou for the request as well.

Caretaker had requested for one of their friends to trap a vampire for them to study while they were recovering from a recent illness.

They had hoped to get back to the hunt as soon as they could, but this illness was lasting to long. They figured the next best thing would be to study one and help the hunt.

Their friend smirked while they rolled the box into Caretaker's study.

"You're package is here", their friend slammed it down roughly.

"Grayson, be careful with my new lab rat", Caretaker rolled in quickly.

"Sorry, they've been a little annoying in there, so I thought I'd shake them up a little", Grayson slammed down on the box.

Caretaker rolled around and looked it over.

"How are you feeling?", Grayson looked at them worriedly.

"It's still in me. I really wish it would give me back my legs at least", Caretaker sighed as they moved their wheelchair around.

"Well you get some cool wheels", Grayson started to pull nails out of the box to open it, "when you get back out to hunting, we can add an engine or rockets to your chair", Grayson chuckled, "you'd be able to catch those vampires then."

"I don't know about that", Caretaker smiled.

"Well this is your vampire... they got a little banged up while I was capturing them", Grayson finally pulled the side of the box away to reveal the vampire.

Caretaker looked in and saw them tied in a kneeling position. They seemed to be squinting in the new lighting.

"I'd say you roughed them up quite a bit", Caretaker studied them closely.

"They're a fighter, so be warned. Get help if you need them to be moved", Grayson reached in and grabbed at the vampire.

"Stop fighting me", Grayson smacked at them when the vampire pulled away.

Caretaker watched as Grayson strapped the vampire to a metal table in the lab.

"I just plan on keeping them strapped to that for now", Caretaker watched as the vampire fought against the restraints. Muffled screams and what seemed to be curses exited its gagged mouth. "They won't get out of it, and it has wheels so I can wheel them around, plus it's the perfect height for me."

"Still be careful", Grayson warned, "they will take advantage of you if they get a chance."

Caretaker nodded, "come on, I got money for your troubles."

"No no, consider it a gift", Grayson smirked up at the vampire, who was staring angrily at them both, "one less vampire out their. Plus, you may learn some things that will help us hunters."

"I have to give you something for your troubles. You look about as banged up as they do", Caretaker looked them up and down.

"Well if you insist... I am hungry, and I know you are a great cook", Grayson made a sly smile, "I would love a meal."

"I can do that, this way to the kitchen", Caretaker started to push their wheelchair forward, but was surprised when Grayson started to help them.

"Are you okay if I give you a hand?", Grayson saw their surprise and stopped.

"Yes that would be great", Caretaker nodded, "thankyou."

The vampire started to squirm on the table again when they saw them leaving the room.

"Just stay their", Grayson ordered, "Caretaker will be back to deal with you later."

The vampire looked around the room nervously.

"Why is all of this happening?", they whispered into the gag.

The vampire gasped as a knife was sliced along their arm.

"Amazing that you feel it, but there is no blood", Caretaker sighed.

"Hmm-himph", the vampire mumbled into the gag.

"What's that?", Caretaker grinned, "do want the gag taken off?"

The vampire quickly nodded and looked at them longingly.

"How about later when I'm finished with you", Caretaker mocked, "maybe I'll let you plead for it later."

Caretaker made another cut in a different area, then came back to the first.

"Where did it go?", Caretaker took a closer look.

The vampire strained to look at their arm, then glared at Caretaker.

Caretaker looked at the second cut and found it to had vanished.

"Amazing.... you can heal that quickly?", Caretaker studied them.

The vampire made a quirk jerk, causing Caretaker role back quickly.

Caretaker looked up and saw the slight smirk on the vampire's face.

"Oh you have jokes, hmm", Caretaker frowned, "we'll here is your prize... you get no blood tonight."

The vampire's smirk disappeared.

"Exactly... let's see how fast that healing factor works when your blood reserves are diminished", Caretaker smiled evilly, "exciting isn't it?"

The vampire started to thrash on the table.

"Yep, get it all out before you go into storage", Caretaker rolled away.

Caretaker came back once the vampire settled on the table again.

"You're finally done?", Caretaker sighed.

Whumpee nodded weakly and made made a tired gasp.

"I suppose we can take the gag out of your mouth now", Caretaker reached up to undo it.

Caretaker watched as the vampire stretched and closed its mouth a few times.

"Do you.... do you torture all of your prisoners before you know anything about them? I would at least like to know the name of a person before I stabbed them", the vampire glared.

"So I suppose you get the name of every neck you bite then", Caretaker locked their wheelchair into place.

"I know all of the people that feed me, because I have human friends that help me", the vampire frowned, "I'm less of a monster than you and your buddy Grayson."

"Really contemplating putting the gag back in your mouth now", Caretaker frowned, "are you always this annoying?"

"Oh yeah, I don't like what you're saying so let's just stuff a scarf down your throat", the vampire argued, "typical hunter."

"Typical vampire to think their opinion matters", Caretaker prided.

Caretaker started to think about which cell they wanted to use during a silent moment.

"It's Whumpee, by the way."

"Hmm?", Caretaker hummed as they weren't paying attention.

"My name is Whumpee", the vampire repeated, "in case you want to use some sort of decency while interacting with me."

"Why would I want to be decent with you, blood sucker?", Caretaker frowned.

"I don't know.... just a thought", Whumpee looked down over themself, at least as far as they could see.

"Well stop thinking", Caretaker started to roll away, "I'm going to make sure your cell is ready for you."

Whumpee waited for them to leave before they looked around the room for some way out.

"Bingo", Whumpee whispered as they noticed the tables had a button release for the restraints, "hunters are so stupid."

They could hear the squeak in Caretaker's wheelchair getting close.

'I will learn a few things about this one before I escape', Whumpee decided to themself.

"So then what's you name", Whumpee studied the halls while the table was pushed to their cell.

"Why do you want to know?", Caretaker stated gruffly.

"Just wanted to know what to call you... that's it....geesh", Whumpee frowned, "I'm really not the enemy here, you know. I get my blood from willing friends. I haven't attacked a single human besides when your friend attacked me tonight. I'm actually rea...."

"Do you ever stop talking?", Caretaker questioned harshly.

"Sorry", Whumpee whispered.

The next night Caretaker slammed the cell door opened.

"I have decided to autopsy you open today", Caretaker announced gleefully.

"Like hell you will", Whumpee used their telekinesis to hit the button to unlock their restraints.

Caretaker quickly slammed the cell bars shut before Whumpee could get out.

"What the heck do you think you're doing?", Caretaker yelled.

"Freaking surviving, you idiot", Whumpee yelled back, "I'd rather not be cut open, thanks."

"I was joking", Caretaker frowned, "what, can't take a joke?"

"Not one like that... I don't know what you want from me. You've already cut into me twice", Whumpee knelt on one knee while still on the table, "I'm not chancing it."

Grayson was called back in to gain control of the vampire.

"Do you have a table that doesn't have an unlocking system like that?", Grayson questioned while they held Whumpee's head down against the floor.

Whumpee tried to squirm out of their grip, but Grayson was definitely stronger at this very moment.

Whumpee resorted to yelling curses atbthem both.

"I have a chair, but it's not mobile", Caretaker frowned, "it's in the lab."

Whumpee was restrained and pushed forward by Grayson.

Whumpee limped weakly and tiredly. They were using too much of their blood reserve to try to heal everything again.

Grayson got them situated into the chair, and left soon after. They still had a few hits before morning.

"Please.... I-I need blood", Whumpee whispered.

"After that?", Caretaker yelled, "are you that bold?"

"I was... just trying to... survive", Whumpee whispered, "you'd... do the same."

"You get no blood", Caretaker turned their chair and rolled away.

Whumpee leaned forward in the chair. Their blood reserve was gone, and any injuries sustained now. Wouldn't be healed.

'I have to behave', Whumpee told themself, 'and hope for mercy.'

Caretaker left Whumpee alone for the rest of the night and went to fall asleep.

Whumpee also fell asleep... this was the first time they had fallen asleep in years. They were too weak to keep their eyes open.

"Wake up."

Whumpee felt someone smacking at their cheek semi gently.

"Mmm", Whumpee moaned as they opened their eyes.

"I didn't know vampire slept", Caretaker rolled away once they saw Whumpee was awake.

"They do when their blood reserve is low", Whumpee kept their head lowered.

"How are you so low already... I was planning on a few days", Caretaker reached for a scalpel.

"My friends were out of town... I haven't fed for a few nights. I was on my way to see them when your friend kidnapped me", Whumpee saw the scalpel out of the corner of their eye and tried to pull away, "I can't heal anything you do to me... please have mercy. I haven't done anything to deserve your torment."

"You're a vampire... you deserve all of this", Caretaker sliced at Whumpee's arm.

Whumpee gasped again and looked away.

Caretaker let them sit for a few minutes, then came back.

"It may have healed a little, but not as well as yesterday", Caretaker documented the findings.

"If I behave.... can... will.... may I have some blood... please?", Whumpee whispered.

"We'll see", Caretaker looked up at them.

Whumpee held their head lower again.

After lunch, Caretaker came back into the lab and frowned at the vampire.

"Vampires can go a while without feeding.... why are you so desperate", Caretaker questioned.

"The truth is my friends moved far away from here a year or so ago. They said they would come back to the old place to feed me every once in a while. They've never returned, and I haven't fed in a long time. I was going to check again when I was kidnapped", Whumpee admitted, "I've checked nightly in hopes they would be there to help me like I've helped them in the past."

"You seriously haven't fed in that long?", Caretaker actually made a concerned face.

"No", Whumpee whispered, "I haven't."

"Hmm, I didn't know you bloodsuckers could have so much control over yourselves", Caretaker checked a few shelves, "if I must, I must... can't let you die on my watch."

Caretaker drew some of their own blood and, with shaky hands, lifted it to Whumpee's lips.

Whumpee took a few gulps before making a strange face.

"What?", Caretaker frowned.

"Visit your doctor and ask to be checked for ataxia-pancytopenia. I've tasted blood like this before, you're short red blood cells. It's a neurological condition that affects tissue and other parts of the cerebellum. This would explain your wheelchair and movement issue. It's rare, but I've had blood like this before", Whumpee frowned.

Caretaker did some research and was interested to find they did indeed show most of the symptoms.

Whumpee was allowed to sit in a cell for the time being. Caretaker didn't feel safe yet to let Whumpee roam free, but Whumpee had earned enough trust to not be tied down.

Whumpee sat back into the shadows of the cell. All they could think about was if they were wrong. Wrong for telling their captor about an illness. Or gave a wrong diagnosis. Their captor would be mad if they were wrong.

Footprints came from down the hall.

Whumpee cowarded back as deep as the wall allowed.

"No, not you again", Whumpee whispered as Grayson stopped at their cell's entrance, "I'm being good... I promise."

"Are you really?", Grayson smirked evilly.

Whumpee quickly nodded.

"Well that's a shock", Grayson chuckled, "relax, I'm not here to hurt you. Caretaker asked if I'd do them a favor for your health's sake. Their blood isn't able to sustain you, so once a month, I will donate some blood to feed you. It's starting right now with this serving. Caretaker asked me to bring it to you as they had to go to their doctors appointment for results."

Whumpee watched nervously as Grayson brought a full cup of red fluid from behind their back. The air they sniffed was full of fresh blood.

"Th-thats for me?", Whumpee asked timidly.

"Well I'm certainly not going to drink it. You're the only blood sucker here", Grayson sarcastically asked, "do you want it or not?"

Whumpee nodded nervously.

"Then come get it", Grayson slid the cup through the bars, "I'm not opening your cell."

Whumpee got up on their knees and quickly inched to the offered cup.

They took it with shaky hands and started to gulp it down.

"Th-thankyou", Whumpee took a second, "I appreciate you being willing to feed me."

"Well you may be saving my friend.... they've been dealing with this for a few months. I'm thankful you may have given them a new lead to investigate. Hopefully they will get help now", Grayson leaned against the cell bars, "even if they won't be able to hunt again. They will be able to study you and help the rest of us. Though I'm sure you don't like the idea of us hunting your kind."

"Vampires don't really think like that. Some of us have family units to take care of each other. Many don't... less vampires mean less competition. If you're weak you should avoid hunters and the higher powered fiends. They will typical protect you, but send you out as bate. If you're more powered you should get some dumb young vamps to have under your wing. Teach them, but use them as bate", Whumpee frowned at the empty cup, "over all your safer with less vampire's around you. You hunters actually help is emmensly."

"Huh..  never really thought about that", Grayson admitted, "I guess you all would have more competition if we weren't regularly hunting. The smarter, stronger ones know how to avoid us. The weaker maybe newer ones don't have that knowledge yet... they fall into a desperate attempt to learn with an older one, and that could be their undoing. Now I'm curious.... where do you fall in line with that?"

"Desperate loner... with friends who didn't hold up their part of the deal after I helped them", Whumpee stood this time and carried the cup back to Grayson, "I am on the stronger side in the vampire world. I've been one for a while, and only survived on the kindness of others who have fed me. You don't have to be the monster others think and say you are."

"Hmm", Grayson took the cup.

"I am willing to help you both as long as I am respected and taken care of", Whumpee looked into Grayson's eyes, "I'll allow whatever humane test you want to run on me even. I've been alive long enough to not care anymore."

Grayson chuckled, "I'll talk to Caretaker and get back to you."

Whumpee tucked themself back into the corner of their cell, and actually found themself comfortable enough to fall alseep again.

"Wake up."

Whumpee woke up to someone opening their cell again.

"Rest in peace doesn't mean anything to the both of you does it", Whumpee frowned at Grayson.

"You can rest when you're dead", Grayson waved handcuffs.

"I am dead", Whumpee frowned, "you don't need those, I won't fight you."

"Settles my mind when I see vampires in chains", Grayson smirked.

"Sounds like you're a sadist then", Whumpee smirked back, but lifted their arms to allow the handcuffs to be placed, "whatever makes the big bad hunter relieved."

"You said you'd work with us, didn't you?", Grayson frowned, "I just hear complaining."

"I did say I'd work with you... I didn't say anything about not being sarcastic about it", Whumpee turned to allow Grayson to cuff them behind their back, "it's part of my charm."

Whumpee was led to the lab where Caretaker waited.

"My results are in, and you were right. My doctor hadn't even considered that disorder and was surprised by the results. I am being put on a care regime to help with symptoms. It's taken months to get answers, and with a drink of my blood, you knew exactly what it was."

"Vampires are good at finding health problems. I know one vampire who teamed up with a doctor. They would always take an extra vile of blood so the vampire could taste it. Many patients were diagnosed within a month or less", Whumpee smiled, "that doctor was very popular in their life, and very smart to use a vampire in such. The vampire was happy as well. They had a constant supply of blood to feed on. Another example of a good vampire."

"Speaking of which... Grayson told me a little of what you talked about earlier. Since this is my lab, I make the final decision. We can talk later on what request you might have to make yourself more comfortable here. I think it sounds like a fair deal. That is if you are okay with it still. Like I said, we can talk later and go over what would work."

Whumpee nodded, "that sounds like a deal."

Later Caretaker walked past the lab and saw Whumpee looking at some of their tools.

Whumpee turned and saw them watching.

"Tools have changed so much since the old days", Whumpee grinned, then turned back to look more.

"Yes I suppose so", Caretaker nodded as they came closer, "some are just as barbaric as they were in old medicine though.

Whumpee nodded.

"No worries though... as agreed upon, by your request and our contract. These tools will be used for studying. No harm will come to you outside of what you are comfortable with", Caretaker smiled, "come on, I have your room ready. I managed to make it dark enough for you."

Whumpee nodded, "thankyou."

"Let's get started then", Caretaker grinned.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

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@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

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@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie

[kittlesandbugs]

FHR: Just a chat (AO3 link here) Pairing: Sidestep/Ricardo Ortega (hints of Chargentstep), Sidestep & Hollow Ground Warnings: None, they're just chatting lol Word Count: 1720 Summary: Ortega takes Sidestep to the park to get some fresh air after being cooped up with broken legs in his apartment for a couple weeks. When he steps away for a few minutes to take care of something, someone else swings by for a talk.

It's a peaceful day at Memorial Park. The sun is shining through the carefully maintained trees, dappling the green grass. The air is cool and calm, balmy even with your multiple layers. The birds are chirping around you and every so often, a squirrel darts by. The air is full of children's laughter as they play on the jungle gym. People are calm and content around you, enjoying the nice weather. 

You haven’t been this tense since the last time you were hauled into a lab and strapped down. 

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," you hiss at Ortega, sitting on the bench next to your wheelchair. 

He's lounging, at ease, though still alert. You see it the way his eyes roam around through the back of his sunglasses, watching everyone and everything around you. "Relax, Riley. Nothing is going to happen here," he chuckles. His hand starts towards your knee to give what you assume is supposed to be a reassuring pat before stopping and redirecting to your arm. You don't like it when anyone touches your casts. "You need some fresh air and sunlight once in a while. You were going crazy in the apartment."

"You could have at least waited for Argent to come over," you growl quietly. "Four eyes are better than two."

"We got four eyes. Hell, four hundred probably, if we count your telepathy." 

"Fine, four working legs." You roll your eyes at the pedantry. 

"We're in broad daylight in the good side of town, no one knows we're here. Relax." 

There's a little note of a plea in there that makes you sigh and nod. He is right, but you aren't going to tell him that. The chances of anyone coming after you in broad daylight on this side of town are almost nonexistent. And if they knew where you were, they would have gone for the significantly easier hit on Ortega's apartment by now. 

So you try. Take in some sun from the sky. Some sun from the carefree kids running past in a game of tag. As good for your brain as dogs, and they're here too. You sink into the padded chair and close your eyes, trying to focus on them rather than the itch of your healing bones that reminds you just how helpless you actually are. 

"Hey, wait here a moment," Ortega says after a few minutes of peace and quiet. You open your eyes to find him perched at the edge of the bench, eyes honed in on something. Your gaze follows but you can't make out who or what he sees at this distance. Are his sunglasses enhancing his vision? Probably, knowing him. You try to follow his line of sight with your telepathy, but what you find that might be getting his attention is strange. Foggy. Nebulous. It's difficult to latch on to any thoughts. Not blocking you like numbers, no, that's closer to the static of Ortega's brain. But someone that is definitely strange. Who is it? 

"Ric, what do you see?" you whisper harshly, the anxiety you felt earlier returning in full force like a hammer strike to your skull as he starts to rise, gesturing with his hand for you to stay put. Like you have a choice

"Just an old friend," he says, the cant of his lips saying the opposite. "I'll be right back. You're safe here."

And then he's off at a swift jog before you can protest, leaving you fumbling for the locked brakes you can't easily reach on the wheelchair handles. 

"Wait! You stupid fucking jackass—" 

"He is, isn't he?" A laugh behind you, and it takes all you have not to scream as a familiar lanky figure folds into Ortega's vacated seat. She's dressed in a finely woven linen jumpsuit, warm sepia with matching leather loafers, her gold piercings sparkling in the dappled sunlight. Her too similar face looks at you with a too similar crooked smile. 

Hollow Ground. 

How the fuck could she sneak up on you like this? You didn't sense her at all. You still can't. Not even so much as a thought void, just nothing. You've never seen anything like it. How is she concealing herself? What the fuck does she want with you? Your chair is still half-locked, trapping you here. Should you scream? Should you—

" Relax," she says, and it's almost a command as she meets your gaze with your own gray eyes. Still, you try to rein in your heart attempting to race its way out of your ribs. "I just want to talk."

"About what?" Your voice betrays the tension tight in your spine, much as you wish otherwise. If one more person tells you to relax, you think you might actually snap. You need to regain control of yourself. You are Reckoning, for fuck's sake. You're not some helpless child. 

"You," she says simply and then pauses. Frowns. Like she's no longer quite sure of what to say. Like she had a plan, but now she doesn't know if it should be executed. 

You try to touch her thoughts again, and again you're met with less than nothing. Are you hallucinating? No. The man walking down the path sees you both. He isn't worried by what he sees, two sisters having a conversation that seems tense. You aren't going to dig into the implications of that one. So she's here. She wants something, wants it enough to approach you about it. You realize the benefit to her closely kept secret identity means she can approach you freely as long as Ortega is not around. The weird presence you felt before, you realize that was Jake, you felt the same nebulousness of his thoughts when you went to meet Hollow Ground at Parkside. Irresistible bait to lure Ortega away. But you have no idea what it is she wants. So you wait. Ortega is right. No one is going to try and do anything in public in broad daylight. She won't, not like this. 

"What about me…?" you prompt when the quiet of her gets to be too much, impatient to find out what this is about with her mind giving you no clues. 

"How… are you?" she asks, surprisingly tentative. 

That reserved inquiry catches you off-guard, but you recover swiftly, her odd nervousness making you feel more confident despite your obvious weakness. "Oh, you know. Peachy. Just out for a stroll," you drawl, gesturing at your propped up casts. 

She snorts and the corner of her lips twitches. Somehow, your snark steadies her. "I should have expected that."

"Why do you care?" you ask sharply. She's being weird, and you don't like it. What is this about? Why would she risk meeting you like this?

"You're a mystery, Riley Owens. I'd hate it if you died before I could solve it." She smirks as you feel your blood run cold. Something about the way she says your name makes you feel jittery. But even more importantly, how could she possibly know who you are? You never gave your name before, to anyone at Parkside, you were there as your villainous alias. Argent scrubbed all records of your surgery at the hospital, though you have no doubt Hollow Ground knew who had been involved in the wreck. How does she know your name? Do the Rangers have a leak? 

As your brain stumbles over what this could mean, she holds out a small white card with something scrawled on it. An address. You recognize the area. Rich and residential. Very rich and residential. Is this… She can't possibly be just handing you this… 

"Got it memorized?" At your nod, she pockets it with a smile that's a little sharp for your liking. 

"What is your g—" 

"Fuck." Her hand shoots up, silencing you as her head tilts slightly like she's listening to something. You can just make out the outline of a small clear low profile receiver in her over-pierced ear. "We lost your pet Ranger, and he's on his way back. I have to go." She rises from the bench with the grace of a crane, giving you a conspiratorial wink.

"Wait, what— Fuck!" You swear, fumbling for the other lock on your chair before she can get away. 

As she strides away, she calls back, "You should stop by sometime, when you're back on your feet. We have a lot to catch up on."  

For someone so tall, she disappears far too easily into crowds. By the time you can roll after her, she's gone, as traceless as she appeared. What the fuck did she mean, catch up on? You're left sitting there, stewing in your own bile, until Ortega finally returns. 

He's sweaty, looking a little tired and roughed up. You think you can see the outline of a bruise blooming under the edge of his bearded cheek. He's definitely been in a fight. You don't know if you should be pleased or pissed that he learned to leave civilians behind for these kinds of escapades after his stunt with Jolene went awry. "Hey," he says with a little wave as he catches his breath. "Everything okay?"

 "Just dandy," you snarl, playing into being pissed that he left you. If he knew who just stopped by to pay you a friendly chat, he'd shit his own generator. "Sitting like a duck while you go haring off to go fight some rando."

Luckily, you think he's getting the right message, because he holds his hands up, placating, as he talks to you in the same tone he uses with his unruly horse at the ranch. "Hey, c'mon. I was just gone a few minutes. Nothing happened, right?" 

"Yeah," you lie with a sigh, dragging a hand down your face. "Nothing happened."

He grabs onto the handlebars of your chair, and if he notices you've unlocked it, he doesn't comment on it as he starts walking you through the park. "Angie texted me about meeting us at the ice cream stand. You want to get some ice cream before we go home?" 

"Yeah." Sugar will help steady your nerves. Get your mind off what just happened. “Let’s get some ice cream and go home.”

You have a lot of thinking to do later.

[missmitchieg]

I've been trying to understand for years and I just can't make sense in my brain why some people think that wheelchair users are "trapped in"/"confined to" a wheelchair. Like

Having and using a wheelchair (and especially a really nice, comfy chair customized to your specific needs) is better and a lot more fun than being completely bedridden, or as you lot would probably call it, "confined to" the bed. In a wheelchair, we can get out of the house and go to the store, or the cinema, or a theme park if we so please*. Having a wheelchair is actually freedom, not "confinement".

This might come as a bit of a shock, but not all wheelchair users are full-time users. Like, some of us do have some amount of leg function and can and do stand and walk a bit, with or without an aid like a cane or crutches*. It's called being an ambulatory wheelchair user.

*Sure, with some occasional difficulties as the whole world is decidedly not adapted for accessibility, but we can do it.

*With VS without aid & cane VS crutches depends on the individual and their needs.

[tomhardydallasstarsgirl]

FUCK.YOU.ANGEL.REYES

Chapter 3

Characters: Angel Reyes x Black Reader

Summary: You return to Santo Padre after being gone for nearly 15 years. Your life and also others will change. Affecting everything you hold dear including your Mayan MC Family.

Warnings: Swearing, Unprotected Sex, and bodily fluids (Male and Female)  Sex/Oral Sex Female  and Male Receiving

Pic Credit @angels-reyes​

Angel finally lets you come up for air after eating you out again. As you two hop in the car to head over to hospital to spend some time with Mama Sadie. You sit back and watch Angel and your grandmother laugh and carry on for what seems like forever. He even takes her out for a walk during her physical therapy time which melted your heart and defenses even more. You loved his laugh as he enjoyed the dirty jokes your little slip of a grandmother was telling a man who was twice her height and weight. As you watch them interact you receive a call from Bishop.

“Hola Obispo. Is everything okay? You need to speak with Angel? I’ll get him if you need me too”, you ask.

“No sweetheart actually if he hasn’t told you I gave him the next 2 days off to keep you company” smiled Bishop.

“Oh, as in baby sit me right?” you ask.

“No not to babysit. He’s not your daddy Y/N”, says Bishop as you laugh to yourself because as of last night and this morning you’ve been calling Angel daddy non-stop.

“Actually to keep you busy because we have a surprise for you and it won’t be here until two days from now”, says Bishop as your interest is now piqued with curiosity of what it could be.

“Oh, Bishop can I have a guess pleeeeease”, you ask jumping up and down as Angel watches you looking curious.

“No mi amor. We all want to see the look on your face when you see what you have coming”, chuckles Bishop.

“Okay Bishop. So, I can’t ask Naomi about it?”, as you hear Bishop sigh heavily on the phone.

“Did I say something wrong by mentioning Naomi just now?” you ask with concern.

“Uhh no sweetheart no at all. I just think that I’m too old for her” as anxiety rises in his voice.

You had a look of apprehension on your face as your mind went back to the night before. Because from what you witnessed between Bishop and Naomi it was cute, adorable and at times very sexy and most definitely absolutely mutual. Even the phone conversation that he interrupted between you and Naomi to get her off made you feel that they would hit it off.

“So, are you wanting to stop getting to know her because of certain “Differences” you two have?”, you say as Bishop can tell that you’re getting a bit upset.

“No pequeno, that’s not what I want to do with Naomi. I mean I’m feeling her a lot. I mean she’s beautiful, smart, sexy and she funny too”, as he sounds anxious.  

It shocked you that the Bishop you heard about while you were growing up was all about his business, ruthless and cut throat at times. But, as you take in this conversation he seemed vulnerable about your good friend Naomi. It almost broke your heart to hear Bishop worrying if he can keep your friend happy.

“Bishop I don’t think you have anything to worry about. My homegirl digs you and you’re all she talks about. To me things can go nowhere but up. And also I don’t want to hear you two having sex on the phone anymore”, you say causing Bishop to bellow with laughter as a clear sign that he feels better after speaking with you.

“Thank you, baby girl for talking me down from that ledge.”

“No problem Bishop. Can you give me a hint of my surprise now?”

“Nope. Nice try novia” says Bishop.

“Can’t blame a girl for trying”, as you two say your final goodbyes.

“Everything alright bonita” says Angel as he walks back with your grandmother.

“Yes, it is. Just got off the phone with Bishop. He needed some advice about something that’s all”.

“So grandbaby been curious to know if have you and this tall strapping young fellow had sex yet?” as Angel goes off with the biggest laugh you’ve ever heard. All you wish is for the ground below to swallow you up as you to run and hide front this conversation.

“I take that back grandbaby”.

“Good. Thank you Mama Sa-”

“He looks more like a big eater to me. Maybe he’d tell you what you taste like too”.

“That I did do Mama Sadie”, as Angel is laughing non-stop now as you stomp off mad.

“Awwww grandbaby come back” says Sadie as she sits back into the wheelchair as Angel pushes her back to the hospital laughing his head off still at you demise.  

“Come on Colibri. Baby, Mama Sadie was just messing around” as your granny joins in laughing with Angel all the way back to her private room.

You sit in a chair next to her bed with a pouting look on your face as Angel wheels in your grandmother. Angel helps sit her back into her bed comfortably. You couldn’t help but, pay attention to his attentiveness and caring nature for Mama Sadie. If you’re not mistaken seeing him this way kind of got you all hot and bothered turning you on. Especially since you two haven’t had vaginal sex yet. Hell, you might just ride his dick later on tonight due to the way he took care of your grandmother. You gotta admit that it did upset you a bit how he openly admitted to eating your pussy to your to Mama Sadie. But, in retrospect he is not ashamed to admit his sexual nature out in the open when it comes to you. I’m mean you are so confident of yourself thinking you’ll be able to hold your own against the great Angel Reyes but, you’d hate to be proven wrong again.

After spending pretty much of the day with Mama Sadie Angel waited outside in the car as you were at home packing a bag to spend at Angel’s for the next of days. Heading out to the front door to the car you notice Angel being nosy attempting to open a package.

“Hey, excuse you!! Gimme that Angel right now”, as Angel holds the package up in the air over his head as you try your damnest to get it from him. He laughs at you as he keeps it away from you. You pout as you stop jumping hoping he lets his guard down. Right on time as he does you playfully punch him in the stomach. He keels over as you grab it from him to inspect the contents as you sit the package on the trunk of the car as you attempt to open it as Angel presses his body against yours. Having curiosity of what’s in it. He kisses you on top of your head and wrapping his tatted arms around your shoulders as you take a closer look.  

“Here take my knife”, as Angel offers you his.

“Oh, I got my own”, as you pull it from your purse and shake it open as Angel’s eyes bulge wide.

“Fuck girl, where the did you get this fucking knife from?”, as he inspects it.

“My mama got it for me”, as you take it back putting it away.

“Should I be worried?” asks Angel.

 “Do you want to find out?”, as Angel raises his hands in protest taking a step back as you laugh at him.

You finally open the box and curious to try to figure out why were sent this package.

“SAVAGE FENTY by Rihanna?” you both say at the same time as you notice a notice inside.

“To my beautiful and gorgeous grandbaby. Also, baby-girl you’re not getting any younger either. Wouldn’t mind that you and that tall drink of water Angel give me some beautiful grandbabies”, you read as Angel laughs under his breath.

“Uggghhhhh Mama Sadie”, you say as you look to the sky wanting to scream as you take a deep breath.

“Fuck girl are those crotchless?”, as Angel attempts to look at what’s in the box but, you snatch it away.

“If you behave Angel Reyes I may do a fashion show for you”, you say as Angel’s face grows dark but, your phone rings as it’s a call from Scarlett.

“Hey honey what you doing right now?”, she asks.

“Trying to tame Angel right now because of a package Mama Sadie sent me”.

“Whoa wait I was sent one too” says Scarlett looking out of the corner of her eye as Riz is anxious for her to open it.

“So basically my grandmother is pimping us to Mayans with sexy lingerie” you say as Angel can’t help but laugh.

“Has Danielle and Naomi called at all?”, asks Scarlett.

“Girl please I’m sure Naomi is walking around at home crotchless for El Presidente right now and as for Danielle EZ is probably enjoying the view or she’s hip deep full of baby brother right now.”

“Say Colibri you know I can hear you right?” says Angel as Scarlett laughs on the phone.

“My bad Daddy” as you blow him a kiss and he laughs rolling his eyes.

“Well I was calling to see if we all could meet up for dinner with the fellas tonight”.

“Sure sounds good to me Scarlett”, we’ll see you in a few.

“And wear something nice please”, she shouts before hanging up with you.

Later that evening Angel dropped you off at a local restaurant as the guys had to handle some quick business at the clubhouse. You met your best friends at the bar having drinks and catching up. Your friends teased and razzed you because what you told them about Mama Sadie embarrassing you and Angel going right a long with it. Especially he openly admitted to her what you tasted like. Oh you were further embarrassed now that your girls are aware of it too.

“Excuse me ladies these are from the gentlemen over there” says the bartender as he pointed towards a table of 4 very attractive men as they all hoisted their glasses in you and your friends direction. You all gave them a kind nod as you all went back to talking.

“Good thing the fellas aren’t here to see this. Especially Bishop”, says Naomi gyrating her hips.

“That hickey on your neck says it all honey. Along with how you walked in here”, says Danielle as you all laughed and howled.

“Scarlett are those Riz’s leather bracelets he always wearing?” Naomi ask while grabbing her wrists for a closer look.

“Yes sugar, Poor baby lost them in a strip poker game we were playing last night”, as you all laugh at her flexing playfully.

“Danielle you been quiet and all googly eyes since we got here tonight” you asked as she jumped being snapped back to reality.

“Huh, What you say?”, she asks looking guilty as he mind been wondering on and on about EZ.

“I can’t help it y’all. EZ has had me scaling the walls away from him last night, this morning and this afternoon. I don’t know what it is that he can’t get enough of”.

“Girl that Punani of yours”, says Naomi as you all clink glasses taking another sip laughing out loud.

Not even a minute later you all were approached by the gentlemen from the table earlier.

“Now why is that we see 4 beautiful ladies all alone”, says the leader of the group as his eyes are fixated on you flashing a big smile as you roll your eyes.

“Actually we are not alone just waiting on our daddies”, says Naomi as you choke on your drink from the surprise comment she just made as if she just read your mind as Scarlett is rubbing your back.

“Well we’ll keep you company until your DADDIES ARRIVE”, as the men attempt to invade you and your girls personal space.

“That won’t be necessary vato”, as everyone turns around seeing Bishop and Riz as Scarlett and Naomi approach them giving them passionate hugs and kisses.

The two other guys step away from you and Danielle not realizing that Angel and EZ are on the 6 as Bishop and Riz watch what is about to unfold in front of them with smiles on their faces and their arms around their ladies.

“BOO!!!”, yells Angel as the two men are startled as EZ laughs at his older brother taunt.

The dudes suddenly notice the Leather Kuttes with the words “MAYANS MC” all four of them are wearing which gives them second thoughts to want to challenge them

“Oh hey guys sorry the interrupting the lovely ladies evening” says the head one as he hurry to pay the tab as they all leave in a hurry.

“Hey thanks man” says Ez as he gives the bartender a tip for the heads up.

“Sorry we’re late. Got a bit hung up at with club business” says Angel pulling you close kissing your lips as you nibble on his bottom one.

You all vacate the bar and sit down to dinner which was a nice change for once. Everyone chimed in on conversations once in a while but, you all were too busy eating in hushed tones and being close to your Mayan men. Angel had his hand on your thigh making lazy circles while whispering sweet nasty Spanish in your ear making you warm around your neck and pool between your legs as you try to feed each other a slice of Chocolate Cake.  You hate that you decided to wear a pair of those crotchless panties as you regret it now. Because you swear you can feel your juices running down your thighs as Angel dark brown eyes were watching you. You didn’t want to make it obvious that you were horny and wet as fuck. You wish you could live out that fantasy of you riding his dick while others watch you come apart all over him.

“Hey let me use the Ladies room baby��� as you excused yourself in a hurry hoping he doesn’t see anything.

Too bad all seeing eye Angel noticed that the cloth napkin and the seat were both wet as he watched you heading in the direction of the women’s restroom.

“Ladies will you join me please”, as you call your girls to join you but, you couldn’t help notice that smack on the ass Naomi got from Bishop as she giggled. To that passionate hand kiss from Riz to Scarlett’s hand and the ear bite EZ gave Danielle as she laughed running away.

As you used the restroom freshening yourself up you heard your phone chime as Danielle was holding it for you as you flush the toilet fixing your dress.

“Hey Y/N want me to check your phone for you?” Danielle asks you and you say yes with any hesitation assuming it would be something random or regarding Photography inquiries.

“I don’t think it was a good idea Colibri to be wearing crotchless panties when my pussy is wetting up the seat and this napkin you were sitting on”, reads Danielle as you bust out of the stall.

“Damn say what”, says Naomi and Scarlett simultaneously as you try to grab you phone from Danielle as another chime comes in.

“Girl this muthafucka sent pics too”, laughs Danielle out loud as you finally snatch your phone back seeing the second message.

“Damn querida I hope when you get on my dick tonight it gets the same treatment as these two” as you see a picture of the wet seat and cloth napkin as your face warms up.

“HA!!!! I know Angel stretching you out tonight” purrs Scarlett as the others laugh leaving the restroom ahead of you.

Angel pays along with his fellow brothers as you all leave the restaurant. Outside you all make small conversation as you all say your goodbyes.

“Well Naomi and I have an engagement that needs to be sought out”, says Bishop wrapping a strong arm around her keeping her close.

“Sounds more like an Entanglement to me”, you say as she pops you on your ass as you laugh making her blush.

“Is everything good with you two” you ask Bishop as he hugs you.”

“It is sweetheart. I’m sorry for calling you frantic like that the other day. Maybe I got all nervous because I can see myself with her in the end pequeno”, as he watches her laughing at Angel and EZ tease one another.

“No problem Obispo. Glad that its going good for you both” as you kiss him on the cheek while Angel comes up behind you kissing your neck.

“You ready carino?” asks Angel as EZ with Danielle along with Riz and Scarlett leave as you two are alone.

You hesitate as you see Angel’s motorcycle which you haven’t taken a ride on it yet.

“What’s wrong mi amor?” as Angel sees your doubt written all over your face.

“Hey its safe baby. Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you. Just hold on. I want to see my beautiful Mujer Fenomenal ride with me” begs Angel as he flashes you those puppy brown eyes as you cave in.

“Okay Angel” you say as he hands you a helmet as he kicks the stand upright.

You finally climb on situating yourself firmly resting your small body against Angel’s tall one as he gives his bike a good rev as the vibration courses through your body as a moan escapes your lips as smirks as he pulls off. You grab his waist tighter as he speeds up as he laughs at you. He comes to a stop light as he rests his gloved hand on your thigh giving it a gentle squeeze sending chills through your body sending your senses into overload. You two don’t notice but, there are two vehicles flanking Angel’s motorcycle. One is of a couple and the second car is full of females. Of course, wearing the panties coupled with the revving of his massive motorcycle between your legs and Angel’s touch is driving you insane. All you want to do literally is just get on your knees and suck Angel off until he shoots his seed to the back of your throat swallowing every drop of him.

“Hmm I gotta get you home baby. So I can wear you out all night long. But, first I must do this”, as Angel turns one of the handles to rev up his motorcycle.

“I need you nice and wet for me when I get you home mi amor”, as he revs it again as the people notice your body starting to shake.

“Bitch are you all seeing this shit”, says one chick with all her friends watching and gasp as is Angel getting you off in front of them as you grab onto his Leather Kutte as a smile is plastered all over Angel’s face.  

“Damn you see that? He got her coming all over his seat”, says the man in the other car as his female grips the door handle and crossing her legs.

Angel switches the rev pattern as it becomes short and fast as your breathing turns to short gasps. The light hasn’t changed yet as people are walking the cross walk smiling and blushing as your openly reaching your orgasm openly.

“That’s it baby. Come on daddy seat”, says Angel as you pull his body to yourself as he cheers you on.

With one hand he continue to rev the bike and with his other gloved hand he reached around dipping two fingers inside of you.

“Oh shit did he just dip in her pussy just like that?”, says one female in the car with her friends.

“Who want to bet that this muthafucka lick his glove after” says another female as there’s a wager raised.

“Your breathing harder now as the revs come faster as you rock back and forth on his seat behind him as his smirk turns into a full evil smile”.

Too bad you didn’t even notice your homegirls and their Mayan lovers pull right behind you both as they watch you unfold as their men are smiling shaking their heads and your girls are shocked by your unbashful moans as you rock your body against your man not giving one fuck whose watching you.

“I know your so close baby. Ven por papi, Ven por papi, Ven por papi”, as Angel gives his bike a long rev that sends you over the edge.

Finally tight corded rope pops inside you as you let out the loudest orgasmic scream. All the women gasp by covering their mouths as the men looking can’t do anything but smile as Angel removes his fingers tasting you as your body falls against his catching your breath.

“Good girl”, he whispers as he rubs your thigh again as the light turns green as he burns rubber blasting down the street.

But, of course the lady with her man had to light a cigarette while the car full of chicks had to pay the one female that made the wager of Angel sucking your juices off his leather covered fingers. Your girls were all now horny as hell as their Mayan men had to make haste to take them home to find the first available flat surface to put them on.

You both finally arrive at Angel’s as he had to carry you inside his house because of your wobbly legs.

You grab his keys as you unlock his door as he still holding you as he kicks the door closed.

He sits you down as you see his house is dark to only see candles are lit all over and there’s a trail colorful rose petals leading to his bathroom and beyond to his master bedroom.

“Angel when did you have time to do all this baby”, you ask as you can’t believe what is in front of you.

“You have to give thanks to Danielle and the prospect for all this”

“You like it querida”, asks Angel walks up behind you slowly unzipping your dress while removing your heels as he kneels in front of you. His dark brown eyes are fixated on you as he removes your bra and panties. Now you return the favor as you slowly undress Angel removing his leather kutte first. Followed by his shirt and dark jeans. You couldn’t help but, not notice Angel’s upper body as you circle him slowly tracing your finger-tips along his tatted and tanned skin. You wanted to run your tongue along his flex pecs, chiseled abs and those sexy veins popping out on his arms and chest. He kicks off his boots and socks as you remove his boxer briefs revealing his beautiful and heavy dick you haven’t had the opportunity to feel inside you yet as you nervously bit your bottom lip. You hop into his arms as he takes you to his bathroom to see a warm bath was also drawn for the both of you surrounding by tea lit candles. He pins up your hair as he helps you climb in first as he rests his body against yours. The only sounds that are heard are the splashes of water and the rising and fall of each other’s chest as  you both bath one another in a comfortable and romantic silence. After you’re both wrapped in towels as Angel walks you to his Master bedroom following the rose petal trail and more candlelight everywhere. You sit on the bed facing him as you pull off his towel grabbing his dick as he hisses through his teeth. The girth and length of his beautiful dick is astounding as you softly grab onto his balls as you give them each a soft kiss as Angel gets antsy. You flick your tongue at the mushroom shaped head of his dick as you lick the pre-cum that comes out as you circle your tongue taking it all. He grabs your hair as you take him deep into your mouth.

“FUCK GIRL!!”, shouts Angel as you start a rhythm taking him in and out of your mouth as saliva runs and your eyes water.

“Mierda. For a person who hasn’t really had sex or sucked some dick you sure is sucking me off like a fucking porn star Colibri” as his words spur you on.

You moan as you suck him faster as you flatten your tongue taking a bit more of him in as you feel Angel starting to tense up as he’s getting close.

“You fucking love sucking daddy’s fat dick like the sweet good slut that you are huh?” as his nasty words had you pooling between your legs again.

His stomach muscles tightened as he let out a deep-rooted guttural groan as hot shots filled your mouth.

“You better catch every fucking drop Cochina”, he says as he catches his breath.

Before you know he has you pinned onto your back as he kisses you deeply. Sending shockwaves through you causing your toes to curl. Flicking his tongue on your neck as he licks a trail around your breasts as he sucks on a nipple as you moan arching from his bed. He pulls you up into his as he lines his dick up to your center. He enters you slowly as the air was suck out of your lungs as you spasm trying to adjust to his size as you squeeze your eyes close.

“Open your eyes baby. Look at daddy as you ride this dick girl”.

You slowly move back and forth against him as you take him one inch at a time.

“Remember keep those beautiful eyes on me baby as you take my dick. Don’t fucking make me repeat again you hear me”, commands Angel as he smacks you on the ass spurring you on to ride him faster as begin to bounce on him as you shove his upper half onto the bed.

“That’s it carino. Ride the shit out this dick like it’s yours baby”, as Angel sits up making sure you keep your eyes on him as the first colliding wave of an orgasm washes over you.

“Yes. Oh fuck yes that was a good one. Keep coming on daddy’s dick” as you almost close your eyes due to that orgasm almost wiping out all your energy. Angel flips you on your back spreading your legs as he fills you up again as you grab his bed sheets.

“Fuck your tight Colibri”, as he starts to move inside of you again as his strokes were connecting with your g-spot as you moan and mewl as he stretches out to his liking as he whispers to you.

“You belong to me Y/N. These beautiful eyes. These soft lips (he kisses them). These long legs and soft arms. These cute toes and soft feet. They belong to me. Your heart. Your mind, soul and body all belong to me querida. You’re mine my love. No other man can make you feel like the way I do. Come like how I do”, whispers Angel as a second orgasm comes as you whisper to Angel.

“Then take it all my Angel. Take all of me daddy. I want you to have all of me”, as you cry out as Angel strokes faster as you dig your nails into his back.

“Fuck me harder my Angel”, you demand as he placed your legs on his shoulders as digs into you pounding you into the mattress as he grabs another orgasm from you as your eyes see pops and bursts of fluorescent lights of the heavens. The headboard bangs the wall harder as he pulls back to back orgasms. You are placed on all fours as Angel lines you up filling you in again burying his dick inside of you as you stiffen up. He fucks you into oblivion as he grabs your hair as skin on skin claps fill his bedroom as he strokes another one from you as tears fall as your crying his name over and over like a rehearsed line in your head over and over. He finally follows you as he grabs your neck pulling you towards him as he empties his essence inside of you as you both tumble onto the bed. His heavy body is on you as you feel satisfied, satiated and sore all at the same time. Angel finally rolls off of you as he grabs a washcloth to clean you up and covers your body in the black silk sheets that are on his bed. He puts on his boxer briefs back on as he returns with cold wine for you and beer for himself as he rolls a blunt to share with you.

He lights the blunt as he takes a hit first and passes it to you. He watches you as you take a pull from it with expertise as you finally expel the smoke. His back is to you as he sits on the floor at the bottom of the bed. You watch the flickering candles against his beautiful tatted skin as you run your fingers through his mane as you kiss his neck. He turns to face you ask he kisses you.

“Hey I want you to wear this mi amor”, says Angel as he removes his golden necklace.

“Whoa Angel I can't wear that. It belongs to you. Also, I notice Ezekiel has the same one”, you say in protest.

“Yeah the same one that Danielle is now wearing around her neck” says Angel as he gets up to sit down in the middle of his bed pulling into his lap as you face him. You notice that the candlelight dances in his beautiful brown eyes as you can’t help but, smile down at him. You have accepted that Angel Ignacio Reyes has to be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. You felt in your heart that he wouldn’t hurt or take advantage of you as those walls you built guarding your feelings, emotions and heart no longer existed as you gave in to him. He places the necklace around your neck.

“Eres mia Y/N. Te Quiero Mi Reina”, whispers Angel resting his forehead against yours.

“Te Amo Mi Rey”, you whisper to Angel as he slowly removes the bed sheet from you body.

He takes your body again and again through out the night. Sending your body and soul to heightened places its never been and what assumed never existed. Losing count of how many orgasms you both accomplished you both fell asleep holding each other close.   @lauraashley93 @claytoncardenasbabymama @sesamepancakes @pananegra

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 8.

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: Language, sexual themes, harassment, injuries. Rated M.

(Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.)

“Oh yes… Oh God, yes!”.

Ricks nails bore into my skin, scratching: and leaving red and white traces in their wake.

“Please don’t stop”, I gasped.

Looking up at me, he rearranged his body, giving him better access to his target,

I kicked my leg, moaning.

“Lie still”, he mumbled, and used his free hand to hold the leg down.

“Mhmm”, I responded, and sighed.

“You’re enjoying this too much”, Rick said, and pulled his fingers out from under the bandage on my foot.

I whimpered.

“No… please”, I said, grabbing his hand, and pushing it back towards my ankle. “You have no idea how itchy that thing is!”. He chuckled at me.

“Maybe next time, don’t let Harley cover your foot in glitter body lotion, before she wraps it up”.

“She said it was antibacterial. And I thought she was supposed to be a doctor”.

“Of psychiatry”, he smiled.

“Right”, I remembered. “Ironic”.

He laid back, putting his head on the pillow. I rolled over, a piece of paper sticking to my sweaty thigh.

Putting his arm behind my head, I snuggled up to him; our fingers entangled on his chest.

“Flag…”, I began.

“Rick”, he interrupted.

“Rick”, I smirked. “Rick with the amazing dick”.

“That’s… terrible”, he laughed, pulled me in and kissed my forehead. Our legs entwined. “What were you gonna say?”.

“What happens now?”, I asked.

“I don’t know. You don’t belong out there with them… us”, he finished.

“I think I do”, I said, turning my face to look at him. His eyes darkened. “Look; I’m a criminal. I’ve done things, I wish I hadn’t”.

“We all have”, he said quietly. I continued.

“But here, I can do something with this thing that was put on me. I can use it to help people like the ones we saved today”.

Rick sighed.

“That’s great, in theory”, he said.

“What do you mean?”, I wondered.

He looked uncomfortable for a second, pulled his arm out from behind my head, and sat up. I stroked my fingers up and down his back as he spoke.

“Can I say something, without you smacking me across the face again?”, he asked. I rolled my eyes in response. “You’re rash, you take unnecessary risks…”. I interrupted.

“Just like every other person in the squad!”.

“…and you’re not as strong as you think”, he finished.

I sat up. “I was strong enough to give you a run for your money, back when we were wrestling in that alley”, I said, and kissed his shoulder.

He turned to face me, and with a hand on my waist, he pushed me back down on the bed, and got on top of me.

“Maybe I was just enjoying rubbing up against you”, he breathed; and began to place small kisses down my neck.

“Are you trying to distract me?”, I laughed, and struggled against his grip. He chuckled against my neck, and started trailing his hand down my side, placing it on my buttcheek.

“What are you doing?”, I giggled.

“Checking out the asset”, he whispered into my ear, and squeezed my cheek. I squealed and laughed.

His phone buzzed in his pants pocket on the floor. He reached to pull it out; and the display read A. Waller.

“Flag”, he answered, and put a finger to his lips, hushing me.

“You heard. Yes… I know…”. He put his feet on the floor, and looked over his shoulder at me for a second.

“No, that’s not… No. Waller… Wall… Amanda! It’s too soon!”, he said in to the phone. He sighed.

“Yes, I know. I understand. Yeah… see you then”. He hung up. “Bitch!”. He threw the phone across the bed.

“Back to work?”, I asked, sitting up.

He ran his hand down his face, and turned halfway towards me.

“Waller… is coming here, to brief you all personally”.

“What does that mean?”, I asked, worried.

“I don’t know all the details, but it’s probably not good”. He turned all the way towards me, and took my hand, placing it on his cheek.

“There are things I can’t tell you. Not because I don’t want to, but because I wouldn’t even know where to start. The next couple of days you might hear some things…”, he said, and put his hands on either side of my face. “I need you to know, that this is real”.

“I know it is”, I said, and ran my thumb over his bottom lip. “I know”.

We got out of the bed, and started to dress. While Rick tied his boots, I picked up the harness, and looked at it.

Rick turned to face me, as I started putting it on.

“I’m sorry”, he said, and looked at the ground in front of him.

I limped over to him, stroke his cheek, and kissed his lips softly. Slipping my hand into his pocket, I pulled out the key he had placed there; and put it in his hand.

“Let’s just get this over with”, I said, and connected the straps to the disc on my chest; so he could lock it.

He did, and then pressed the button on his wrist. A short beep, and the light turned from green to red.

“This thing coming up… it doesn’t sound good. But I’m going to do whatever I have to, to make sure you’re safe”. He put his forehead to mine.

“I’m a big girl, Rick”, I smiled.

“You’re hotheaded and stubborn. And that’s not a compliment”, he said. “To top that of, you’re still injured”.

“Keep going like this, and I will smack you”, I smirked. He put his lips to mine, savoring the feeling.

“Just please… follow my orders, and we’ll get through this”.

I smiled at him.

“Yes, colonel Flag, sir!”.

He smirked, and we went out the door.

---

I’d had to go back to my cell; but I’d fallen asleep quickly, once Rick had led me there, removed my harness, and left me – after a quick kiss, while no one was watching.

The next morning, we were gathered in the gym.

Digger, as always, looked chronically hung over, but the only other member of the team seeming affected by the “party” the night before, was Harley; who was wearing a pair of oversized sunglasses, and clutching a tiny cup of espresso.

I was sitting in my wheelchair, though I did not need it; it just so happened to be the most comfortable chair in the room. Foot raised on the empty beer crate, I was pretending to read my copy of Alice.

“Mhm”, said a voice from behind me. “Must have been a good one”.

Floyd sat down next to me.

“I’m not sure what you mean”, I said unconvincingly.

“You’ve been reading that same page for the last 20 minutes”, he said.

“It’s my favorite part”, I retorted.

“And,” he continued “you’re holding it upside down”.

My face reddened, and I put down the book.

“Anyone else notice?”, I asked.

“Oh, we all know. You have a hickey the size of Florida on your neck”, he chuckled.

“Fuck”, I gasped, and tried to cover my neck with my hand.

“Too late, girl”, Floyd smiled widely. “Only thing, I can’t figure out which one of these nasty ass guards you’d be willing to knock it with”.

So he didn’t know about Flag. Rick.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen”, I groaned. He laughed and patted my shoulder.

“Hey, you’ll get no shit from me. We all need a little tlc sometimes”, he smiled, and got up to walk away. Turning around, he stopped for a second.

“Did you find your something to live for?”.

“Maybe”, I said honestly. He nodded, and went to join Diablo at the dumbbells.

The metal doors opened, and Griggs came in, followed closely by a dozen of his men. No matter how badass he tried to look, it was clear he was terrified of us; especially when we were grouped together.

“Hey shitheads. Line up!”, he barked. “You had a nice party last night it seems”.

We all got in line, about six feet between us, as we stood next to each other; hands on our heads, and legs spread. Griggs walked up to a grey-faced Digger.

“Crocodile Dundee; stand up straight when I’m talking to you”, he roared in to the poor mans face; as he was doing his best to block out the sound with his hands.

He walked back and forth in front of us, avoiding getting too close to Croc, who was standing at the end of the line.

“You need to clean this shit up!”, he yelled, and kicked at the beer case I’d been resting my foot on earlier.

“I’ve been told you have guests coming in. That woman, Waller, and the colonels samurai”.

I started swaying; my ankle giving in to pain. It was difficult to stand up straight. Griggs sauntered over to me, and put his hands on my waist. I heard mumbling and a growl coming from my friends; but the guards all cocked their guns, and aimed them at our group.

“How’s the foot?”, he said quietly, looking into my eyes, swaying back and forth with me; in a weird slow dance.

“I heard you went to visit colonel Douche last night. You were in there a long time, Puss”, he jeered. “Did ya’ give the soldier boy a little lapdance? You’re good at that, ain’t you? What was that place called you worked at? Scottys’?”.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Floyd sending me a look of confusion.

“Get off me”, I hissed; trying to create distance between us, still keeping my hands on my head.

“Oh, come on”, Griggs smirked, leaning in to me. “You like a man in uniform, don’t you? All someone has to do is flash a bit of rank, and you’ll spread ‘em. Screwing your way out of here…”.

A bright voice interrupted him.

“In my professional experience, slut shaming is usually a sign of extreme insecurity, and pent up sexual frustration, stemming from the aggressing party not interacting in any kind of physical intercourse themselves”, Harley said pointedly. “Blue balls much?”, she finished, smiling brightly.

Griggs stepped away from me, and stormed towards her. He was stopped dead in his tracks, as Digger bent forward in front of him, heaving; and letting out a steady stream of his stomach content; making it land on Griggs’ uniform.

“Shit. You disgusting… Shit!”, Griggs yelped, and stormed towards the door, followed by his guards, who kept aiming their guns at us until the door closed behind them.

“Oops, sorry mate”, Digger burped. We all laughed.

“Come on man, let’s get you cleaned up”, Diablo said, and supported Diggers weight on their way to the bathroom. “Good job”, I heard him laugh, as they walked away.

I went to sit down; my hands shaking, as I arranged myself in the wheelchair.

“You and Flag, huh?”. Floyd was looking down at me. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been with some nasty ass skanks in my day. But… really?”, he looked at me, disbelieving.

I sighed.

“It’s like I said. It wasn’t supposed to happen”. I looked up at him. “But it did”.

Floyd tilted his head.

“I guess he’s got that Ken doll thing going for him. And he’s not a total asshole. Just be careful this doesn’t fuck up your situation in this place. We got it better here than we could have wished for, being who we are”, he said, and crouched in front of me.

“Live, Y/N”, he said quietly, squeezed my knee gently; and left me alone to my thoughts.

---

“You’re going to Gotham”.

Waller was briefing us in a conference room, connected to hallway outside the gym. We were all sitting around a table that gave off an aroma of stale coffee and cigarette smoke, looking at a slideshow, that would probably be destroyed once this meeting was over.

In a corner of the room stood a masked Asian woman, carrying a sword. Rick had introduced her to me as Katana.

“She’s got his back”, Harley had beemed at me, grabbing Katana in her arms, and giving her a tight squeeze. “I’ve missed you so much!”. Katana had retreated as quickly as she could; and was now scowling at us from her corner.

“A terrorist group has threatened an attack on Midtown, three days from now”, Waller said. “Exactly where has yet to be confirmed; but we suspect it will be going down in the area of Gotham Proper. This makes either Gotham U., Central High School, or Gotham Hospital likely targets. Either way, casualties will be in the thousands”.

She switched the slide, showing us a map of what seemed to be the western part of Gotham.

“It seems the group has gained access to all surveillance footage in the area, meaning they will notice us coming at them, regardless of which direction we decide to take”.

“We?”, Diablo asked.

“Well, you. Obviously”, Waller retorted. “Police and military have been ordered to act as normal; not evacuate or show any sign that we are taking this threat seriously”.

“So basically, you’re letting people die”, Floyd said, trying to control his temper. “Why?”.

“Don’t worry, Deadshot. Your daughter and her mother have been sent on vacation to the west coast, visiting family.

“They ain’t got no family on the west coast”, Floyd growled.

“They do now”, Waller said.

“Get to the point, Waller. What do we need to do?”, Rick asked.

“You need to go in quietly, but well-armed”. She looked at me. “This is where you come in, Chess”.

Ricks eyes were instantly on me; worried and enraged.

“No, she’s not ready.”, he said as calmly as he could. Across the table, Harley was making a heart shape with her hands, winking at me.

“Colonel, you need to go in invisibly. Literally”, Waller said to him.

Rick walked up to her, and lowered his voice.

“She almost died yesterday. Her ankle is messed up; and she might have a couple of fractured ribs; due to the beating you let the guards here give her”. That last part was only half true, as I’d had no trouble with my ribs, when he was holding on to me for dear life, as I rode him the night before.

“I didn’t let the guards do anything. Y/N is a prisoner here at Belle Reve, and whatever treatment she receives from the staff here, is between her and them”. I really don’t like you, I thought.

“Amanda…”, Rick said, but was interrupted.

“Let’s speak in private”, Waller said coldly.

---

Rick and Katana walked us back to the gym, leaving Waller waiting for them in the conference room.

Once back, and out of sight of the guards, Rick looked at us all, his eyes ending up meeting mine. He lifted his hand, and pressed the button on his wrist. My disc shone green.

Katana grabbed his arm, and angrily said something I couldn’t understand.

“She deserves to know”, Rick said quietly, and walked up to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Remember what I said last night”, he said in a hushed tone. “And be quiet”.

I nodded, and disappeared from view.

Leaving the rest of the group behind, waiting for more instruction; we walked back to the conference room. Katana was grumbling something all the way; the only word I could understand being “stupid”.

Waller was sitting at the end of the table when we came in. I lightly touched Ricks arm, letting him know I was there. He sighed.

“Amanda, this is dangerous”, he said.

“I know”, she answered. “That’s why it’s these people doing it”.

“But her?”, he asked, sitting down in one of the chairs. It seemed he couldn’t sit far enough away from her; such was his aggravation.

“She’s getting to you”, Waller said matter-of-factly. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we?”.

“No. This is not that. She is a member of my team, who just so happens to be completely unprepared for this situation”. I stood against the wall behind him, watching his shoulders move as he spoke.

“This is not your team, Flag”, she said harshly. “These are assets; they’re disposable. You’re not supposed to make friends with them”.

“I am the leader of that squad”, Rick tried, with an authoritative voice.

“You are the babysitter of a bunch of gangbangers and psychopaths; put in this jail to be punished for their deeds. That gym out there was supposed to be a training facility. In stead you’ve let them turn it in to a frat house”.

Rick slammed his fist into the table, making me jump. Katana looked in my direction, letting me know she’d heard me. I needed to be quieter.

“You can’t ask this of them!”, he yelled. “She could die. They could all die!”.

“So?”, Waller said, voice leveled; eyes cold.

“How long have you known about her?”, he asked.

“She’s been on the board for a while; a file I kept in my drawer for when I needed her. When this threat came in, I knew it was time to extract her”.

“This is the one, isn’t it?”, Rick said. “The one you’ve been preparing for months. The one you didn’t want to tell me about. Why?”.

“Because I knew what your reaction would be, and I didn’t have time to deal with your sensitive emotions”, she answered.

Rick sighed. “There is no threat, is there?”.

“There is a threat, but it’s not new. We’ve known about this group for a little over a year”.

“Then why now?”, he wondered.

“Because we caught her”, she answered. “Now we finally have a chance of taking them down; because they won’t be able to see you coming”.

“And the attack? That’s bullshit?”. He was tensing up.

“Not exactly”, Waller said, gathering her papers. “We know they have access to explosives, and that they are able to set them up quickly; causing great damage to a large area. The three targets I mentioned before, are still the most likely to be hit”.

Rick stood up and walked over to her, staring her down menacingly.

“When we finish this one; you and me – we’re done”.

She took her papers and walked towards the door.

“If you say so”, she said, and closed the door behind her.

 Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r​

@hyp-oh-critical​

[knight-ingale]

Chapter 1, Leaving the Sun

A/N: hey, it's Knightingale! This is the first chapter of my Twilight fanfiction I started writing this year. I edited this after I posted on my laptop so hopefully it looks better. 2020 is a mess and I just wanted to write some garbage fanfiction. Let me know what you think of it!

---------------- 

You looked out the open car window into the wide expanse of Arizona’s cloudless open sky, a backdrop of perfect blue against the tall buildings placed in the desert of your home state. Soon, your new home would be in Forks, Washington, which differed very much from here. The open sky in Phoenix was ever-present, only gracing the dusty ground and perpetually dying lawns a few times each year with rain an average of 33 times. Yes, you had checked. In Forks, the sky was framed by tall trees when you looked up into the shaded clouds that were nearly always hanging in the air. The rain was just as present as the greenery that covered the trees, raining nearly every day. Phoenix was where you had lived with your sister and mother for all your life. Forks is the home of your father, Charlie. You call him “Dad” to his face, of course, but you had fallen into the same habit as your older sister Bella when addressing him to others as “Charlie”.  Last you had been to Forks was three summers ago when you had made your month-long summer visit to his little home in the rainy forests. Bella, your elder sister, who detested Forks, had put up enough of a fight to convince both your parents to let the two of you stay in Phoenix for the summer, bringing Charlie up instead for a mere two weeks in Cali. Now you and your sister were moving to live with him there!

You were much more excited about your leaving compared to your sister. You hadn’t been to Forks since you were 12 years old. You had often enjoyed your trips every summer, living with your dad for a month felt like a fairy tale. The large forests covered in green was like an alien world compared to Phoenix, as if you had stepped through a faery gate and was transported to another dimension. One filled with trees that held up the clouds, a place full of desaturated buildings full of cozy warmth and forgotten smiles.

You’re mother, Renne, broke you out of her daydreams with her voice, 

“Bella,” she sighs to your older sister, “You don’t have to do this.” She glances at you through the rear-view mirror, “Neither of you do.” she looks back to Bella, her main concern, with her sweet, childish eyes. You can see Bella’s face tighten with nervous anxiety in the car doors outside mirror. You knew why she was anxious. As much as you loved her, Renne could be a little… absent-minded sometimes. She wasn’t dumb or dull-minded, quite the opposite, actually. Her mind was always in so many places at once; like a box of little bunny rabbits, hopping energetically from place to place. Unfortunately, this caused her to forget things sometimes. Like having a bag of marbles, but the bottom seam of the bag is ripped and marbles keep spilling out. You can catch them and try to open the pouch and put them in, but you’d still keep dropping marbles. That’s why you and Bella were around, you caught all of the marbles and put them back in the bag before she ran off to a new idea, leaving her little thoughts behind. Bella sighs herself before finally speaking, 

“I want to go.” she lied. Everyone in the car knew that was a blatant lie, but she had said it so often lately, someone who didn’t know her would have believed it. Luckily for you, you had spent the last 15 years with her, you knew your sister and her habits better than she probably did. Your mom looks up to the rear-view again, but you just smile, 

“I’m actually excited to go to Forks, mom!” You playfully glare at Bella as you lean towards her shoulder of the seat, “Besides, I’ll consider this making up for Bells throwing a tantrum and keeping me from Charlie’s place for three years.” Bella scoffs as she rolls her eyes, but she can’t keep the smile off her face, 

“You say that like I’ve forgiven you for pretending to be ‘Bloody Mary’” she jokes. You laugh. You lean back in your seat, letting the relative silence continue, the only hearing the quiet melodies on the radio and the rushing of wind as you neared your first destination, the airport.

When you had reached the airport and gotten your suitcases out of the back. Even between the two of you, there wasn’t much, only a few bags per person. Due to the near-polar-opposites of your parent’s climates, not much of your wardrobe was suitable for Forks’ usual weather forecasts. You and Bella actually had to go out and buy the warmest clothing possible manufactured in Phoenix, which wasn’t much, due to the near insufferable heat of the summer and mild heat that still hung around in the dead of winter months. Once you both had your bags out of the car, Renne turned to you both, looking equal parts loving and anxious.

“Tell Charlie I said ‘hi’” You smile, 

“We will,” You both answer. Your mom grabs one of your and Bella’s hands, 

“I’ll see you soon,” she insists, worry burning in her eyes, “You girls can come home whenever you want- I’ll come right back as soon as you need me!” Bella almost noticeably winces, she knows your mom really loved you both, but she was in love and wanted to spend time with your traveling step-father, Phil.

“Don’t worry about us,” She urges, “It’ll be great. I love you, Mom.” You smile and pull your mom into a hug, entrapping Bella into your cocoon of love with you.

“I love you, Mom.” you murmur into her ear. 

With that, you and Bella set off into the airport’s main building, taking the path familiar to you, one that you had taken with your sister every summer until three years ago.

Going through customs was easy, the only three carry on items being a pair of cheap earbuds, an iPod mini, and a parka. The parka for the predictable forecast of rainy weather, and the iPod to keep yourself entertained during the 4-hour flight. You were delighted when no one was sitting in the third seat in your row, but it was only to be expected. There weren’t many people coming from the blistering heat of Phoenix willingly leaving for the downcast rain puddle that is Forks, Washington.

Once the plane had landed, you and Bella stepped out into the rainy sky of Port Angeles. Charlie, your father was waiting for you both in the police cruiser, like he had every year you visited before. Charlie, being the Chief of Police in town, only drove the cruiser, instead of getting his own car. It made sense to you, why buy another of something you already have that works perfectly? Bella however did not like the idea of being driven around in it. Something Bella had adamantly refused to endure was riding to school in the cop car, “Nothing slows down traffic like a cop,” she complained. Because of this, she was hellbent on buying her own vehicle to drive to school in, regardless of her smaller-than-desired budget.

Charlie welcomed you both as you boarded off of the plane, well, Bella more stumbled. That’s why you had come off first, grabbing her arm to keep her from having a personal encounter with the asphalt landing beneath you. Charlie awkwardly hugged you both.

“It’s good to see you girls,” he says smiling at you both as he pulls away. “You haven’t changed much, Bells. Y/n, you’ve grown taller, kiddo!” he laughs, “How’s Renee?” 

“Mom’s fine, It’s good to see you too, Dad.” Bella answers. Of course, she doesn’t call him Charlie to his face. You smile, 

“Mom says ‘Hi’” Charlie nods and helps you both with your luggage. All of Bella’s things fit into the trunk, as well as most of your own, you only needed to put your biggest case of clothing with you in the back. As soon as you all strap into the cruiser, Charlie makes an announcement,

“I found a good car for the two of you, really cheap.” A car? 

“What kind of car?” Bella asks suspiciously.

“Well, it’s a truck actually, a Chevy.” Oh, a truck. Maybe then it’d be more durable. God knows you’d need it. You didn’t have your license yet, so Bella was the only option to get you to school. If you didn’t want to be brought to school behind the separation grate of a cop car, that is.

“Where did you find it?” Bella asks.

“Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?” La Push was the little Native-American reservation down at the coast if you remembered right. Billy, Billy… You let out a little “oh!” before Bella can respond.

“He was that guy we’d go fishing with, right?” You remembered him faintly. He lived on the reservation with two, no, three kids. You remembered two sisters, twins, and a little boy. Man, you hadn’t thought about them in years! Of course, that couldn’t be helped, since Bella treated Forks liked it was cursed with the plague for years, enough to stop your summerly visits.

“Yup, that’s him,” your dad confirms, “He’s in a wheelchair now, so he can’t drive anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap.” Bella, ever suspicious of this vehicle, prods further, 

“What year is it?”  You can see Charlie make a slight face at Bella’s question, 

“Well… Billy’s done some work to the engine- it’s only a few years old really,” he tries vainly. 

“When did he buy it?” Bella continues. 

“He bought it in 1984, I think.”

“Did he buy it new?” Charlie sighs at the question, 

“Well, no. I think it was new in the early sixties- or late fifties, at the earliest,” he admits. Bella sigh herself, 

“Ch- Dad,” she starts, “Neither Y/N or I know anything about cars! We wouldn’t be able to fix it if anything went wrong, and I can’t really afford a mechanic-” she rambles anxiously before Charlie stops her, 

“Really, Bella, the thing runs great. They don’t build them like that anymore.” Bella stews in her thoughts for a moment, you break the silence, 

“I mean, if anything, I’m more than happy to get to school in something other than the back of a cop car,” you laugh easily, “I mean, can you imagine, coming to school on the first day in the back of the Chief’s cruiser like a criminal? Talk about a first impression!” Charlie is able to laugh at your light humor with you before Bella asks another question, 

“How cheap is… cheap?” she asks, quieting your laughter quickly. 

“Well, girls, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift.” you can see Charlie peek over at Bella before glancing at you through the rear-view hopefully. Already… wow, was the truck free?

“You didn’t have to do that, Dad, I was going to buy us a car myself,” Bella says. Charlie looks straight ahead at the road before answering, obviously trying to get his emotions out without his usual awkwardness.

“I don’t mind. I want you to be happy here.” His last sentence was obviously more pointed at your sister than you. She had never really hidden her… distaste for Forks. Charlie seemed rather pleased the two of you had willingly decided to come live with him for a more permanent amount of time.

“That’s really nice Dad,” Bella says, looking straight out the front window, just like your dad. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.” You smile at the two in front of you, 

“Thanks, Dad!” He makes a gruff sound of affirmation, slightly awkward, but mostly pleased at your positive reaction,

“Well, now, you’re welcome.” You settled against the window and car door and pop your earbuds in their place as you press play on your iPod. You look out through a rain covered window, alternating between watching the terrain run behind you and focusing on the water droplets streaking across the glass, seeing which ones met the bottom first.

Eventually, you made it home. You recognized the curve of the road, seeing a peek of the washed-out color of the white house and dark roof through the brilliant green of the trees. What was the most eye-catching about the scene was the contrasting red truck in the driveway. Bella hopped out of the front with almost excited energy. 

“Wow Dad,” she exclaims slightly louder than her usual, quiet volume, “I love it! Thanks!” You climbed out of the back, pausing your music and stuffing the earbuds into your pocket as you made your way beside your sister. Despite being the complementary color of green, the washed-out fade of the red paint made the truck look perfect in the surrounding environment. It was big and old, but it was sturdy looking, like a little tank. This was definitely one of the trucks that could get in a collision and crush the opposing vehicle like an empty soda can. At least if Bella managed to crash the two of you, you’d probably live!

Charlie calls you both to the back of the truck after accepting your thanks and words of appreciation as best as he could, helping you both unpack your luggage from the cruiser. It only took one trip. Bella carried her luggage upstairs with your dad’s help, and you dragged your own into your room on the main floor of the house. 

Originally, you and Bella had shared the nursery, but around 11 years old, the two of you convinced (or complained, depends on who you ask)  your dad to let you and Bella have separate rooms. Your little room was wedged between the stairs and the living room, the smallest room in the house. It wasn’t bad though. The walls were painted navy blue with old glow in the dark stars stuck all over the popcorn ceiling and tops of the walls. You still had the white garlands of Christmas lights tacked up the to corners of your ceilings, and the lace curtains still hung over the window. Your window faced the back of the house directly into the forest behind. There was enough room for your twin-sized bed and a small desk and bookshelf shoved into one corner, your dresser snug in a corner on one side of your bed, and nightstand on the other. There was an old computer upstairs in Bella’s room, the nursery. Your mom had all but demanded it be there for easy communication. You missed her already.

You didn’t set to really putting your room together, other than putting clothes in drawers and hanging what little you had in the closet. You decided you’d unpack all personal items later, but dug out your backpack. A white canvas backpack with two bottle pockets on the sides and a smaller, extra on the front. You had doodled on it with markers last year, but it hadn’t fallen apart yet so you had been using it this year too. Your now emptied folders and binders took up space in the main pocket; your pencil case and an extra pencil case full of period products housed in the smaller one. Your backpack was set. You decide on what to wear for tomorrow, familiarizing yourself with your new set up in the process. By the time you had busied yourself with the small tasks you could, the sun had fully set behind the cover of clouds.

You made your way upstairs to your sister’s room, peaking your head through the door. Bella had put on her pajamas and was sitting in bed, gazing out into the night. In the low light of the lamp she had on, you could see she wasn’t feeling great about tomorrow.

“Hey Bells,” you call softly. She looks over to you, not bothering to change her expression. She already learned she couldn’t hide how she felt around you, so she stopped trying quite a while ago. “Not excited for tomorrow, huh?” You slide into the room fully, gently closing the door behind you. She sighs as you set down across from her.

“Not really.” She admits. “Forks Highs-school only has three hundred and fifty-seven students,”

“Now fifty-eight,” you interject. She nods and closes her eyes, 

“Exactly. Everyone around here has grown up together- their grandparents were toddlers together! We’re the new girls from the big city-”

“A curiosity,” you agree tiredly, 

“A freak,” she grumbles pessimistically. “I mean, we don’t look how girls from Phoenix should, I know I don’t. I should be tan, sporty, blonde- a volleyball player, or a cheerleader, perhaps- everything people think about when they think of living in the valley of the sun!”

“You know neither of us should ever be let in a quarter-mile vicinity of a volleyball, first of all-” you joke, “and second, I don’t think being sporty or tan would really help anyway. If Phoenix is the ‘valley of the sun’, then Forks in “the valley of rain clouds’. I don’t think a lot of the other white people here are going to be very tan.” Bella manages a genuine, albeit small, laugh. “I don’t think we’d fit in anywhere, Bells, not unless we find people like us.” She sighs, 

“Other people with glitches in their brains.” You shrug, 

“I don’t think its a glitch. We’re just wired differently. Besides, our brains are literally meat-jello full of electricity, some of them are bound to work a little strange, right?” She laughs, louder this time. You give her a side hug before standing up. “Alright, I’m heading to bed. See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight,”’ Bella says un-enthusiastically. You exit the room and call down the short hallway to Charlie’s room, 

“Night, Dad!” He pokes his head out of the door a moment after, 

“Night honey, see you in the morning.” He goes back to his room and closes the door. You trail your way down the stairs and to your room before crawling under the blankets. You were going to need your sleep for tomorrow. After all, you were starting your first day at a new school. Forks High, now at a population of 359.

[i-heart-danchou]

Bells

This is for bottom Erwin week day 2, Official Art AU

Is the art I’ve chosen, from the wit production team’s beautiful eruri bounty that they released during production of season 3.  The text says “I want to see your laughing face”

----

It’s the way he laughs. The Commander’s whole face lights up, his body shakes, his eyes crinkle and he can’t control his joy.  Erwin is a man in control of his emotions; disciplined, severe, intimidating… but catch him in just the right moment and he can’t stop himself, he laughs and it warms Levi to the core.

It’s not always big belly laughs either— sometimes it’s a warm soft chuckle, a bit of mirth escaping the Commander when Levi snarks him in private.  It grounds both of them, alleviates the severity of their situations a little… they’re both human, and they bicker and fight because they love each other, because every day Erwin stares death in the face and laughs.

**

They're at a party together, some post mission hootenanny Hanji’s thrown together since no one died this time.  It was one of the first missions since Erwin had become Commander, the second where his long distance formation had been implemented, and shit, it’s worked like a fucking charm.

Mike and Hanji have pilfered some alcohol from somewhere, and the new recruits are quite happy to drink up a storm with their leaders.  

Erwin isn’t the sort to get sloppy in front of his coworkers, nor was Levi for that matter.  So they sit back together, Levi fixed some tea, and they watch the party unfold from a distance.  

“Those two.”  Levi mutters, pointing at two young men seconds away from a brawl. “Definitely fucking.”

Erwin smiles and leans close.  “Oh yeah?  How can you tell?”

Levi puts his arm on Erwin’s shoulder, enjoying the warm, hard weight and power he feels under his muscles.  “Cause that’s how it always starts, right?  Two guys fight, it’s charged, it’s hot, they pin each other to the ground and three weeks later some blond dumb idiot’s getting porked by his subordinate.”

Erwin laughs then, loud and hard enough that Levi fears everyone will gawk at them but thankfully they’re all entrenched in their own bullshit by then.  “I don’t know if that’s how most relationships start, Levi.”

Silver eyes roll up incredulously.  “Oh yeah?  How do you think it’s supposed to go?”

Erwin’s smile is warm and soft.  “You see someone incredible, they take your breath away.  You think ‘I need him, I need him in my life and I’ll do anything I can to make him mine.’”

Levi’s cheeks go pink and he ignores them.  

“But how do you win over someone who hates you? Overt displays of strength? Abusing positions of power?”  Erwin’s hips nudge Levi’s as they sit together.  “No.  It’s mutual respect, and trust, and wanting to make each other happy.  This didn’t happen because we fought in the underground.  It happened because I grew to adore you.”

Levi looks away, huffing a chuckle into his tea.  “You’re lucky you’re so good looking.  Cheesy shit like that’d make anyone’s stomach turn.”

Erwin laughs again, and Levi can’t help but smile.  This man.  This man is everything.

**

Erwin smiles when he loses his arm.  He laughs when he’s informed by his colleague that his legs are about to be broken.  Levi wonders if he’s a fucking masochist, and stuffs that little tidbit away for later.  

He’s always had trouble saying no to Erwin… he’s chasing his dream like a child and Levi knows they probably won’t come back alive.  But that laugh, that fucking soft, open laugh… he knows he’s lost, he knows Erwin’s going to lead them into hell like the shit eating magnificent beast that he is.  

Erwin smiles as they depart civilization, cheered on by the public for the first time in Survey Corps history… and he smiles when Levi tells him to die.  

That smile lacerates Levi’s heart and he feels like he’s dying when he makes that last charge.  That smile’ll give him strength, drive him forward… the last gift Erwin gave him.

The beast titan falls and makes a fucking getaway like a coward, and Levi doesn’t have the gas to chase after him.  He scans the green field of dead soldiers, like a graverobbing magpie he wonders if there’s some equipment he can wrestle off of a corpse. But… that smile, Erwin’s soft voice echoing in his ears… a niggling voice at the back of Levi’s mind wonders.

‘What if Erwin’s not dead?’

It’s not hard to find him, even amongst the thousands of dead and wounded men.  His horse is snow white, his hair is spun gold; even bleeding out he’s beautiful he’s sunlight and Levi runs to his Commander.  

“Erwin!”  Levi falls to his knees and rolls him on his back.  He’s breathing, he’s wounded, but… he’ll live.  Holy fuck, he’ll live.  

“…Levi?” Erwin’s pale, he’s in agony, his breathing is harsh but he laughs, he fucking laughs.  A weak little chuckle, a broken cough in a flailing chest.  “You’re on the… on the wrong end of the battlefield I think.” He shuts his eyes against the pain.  “Did you win?”

Levi nods and clutches Erwin’s hand to his chest.  “Yeah.  We won.”  A swallow.  “I ran out of gas, I figured… maybe I could steal yours since you’re a lazy sack of shit laying around while the battle’s still going.”

Erwin’s smile broadens; he laughs once more but his body seizes in pain.  

“Erwin.”  Levi says urgently, patiently.  “The brats probably need some adults to help them.  Can you move?”

That smile falters, only slightly, only slightly, a light quiver in the wind.  Erwin meets Levi’s gaze.  “I can’t feel my legs, Levi.”

Silver eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and Levi licks his lips.  “Stay here.”  Stupid.  Stupid thing to say.  “I’ll get some supplies and we can finish what we started.”

They soar back together, Erwin strapped to Levi’s back like an infant.  Armin is badly wounded, he gets the injection and everything shifts in their favor.  Erwin can’t join them in the basement, but the man can’t stop smiling.  

It baffles Levi sometimes, how much abuse one man can take and still find joy in the world.  A murdered father, a lonely childhood, a limb lost, a near execution and now… his body is broken, useless, beyond repair, and the fucking Commander is smiling.  

**

All Eldians receive the same message of indiscriminate genocide.  It’s worse than Levi dared imagine, worse than Zeke had planned for them too.  

Erwin’s spent the last four years in a wheelchair, helping from the sidelines because his mind is as sharp as it’s ever been.  He and Levi exchange a glance and Levi begins to suit up once more.

They don’t need to exchange words… Levi’s probably going to the other end of the world for this battle, this will decide the fate of the world, and Erwin will be dead weight.  Erwin squeezes Levi’s hand and brings it to his lips.  

“Be careful.”  He whispers.

“I’m always careful.”  Levi retorts, though the scar on his face says otherwise.  “And you remember our rules for when I’m gone.”

Erwin cocks an eyebrow, a smirk loaded up and ready to be deployed for whatever snark his husband’s got lined up.

“No getting killed and no fucking mistresses.”

Erwin’s laugh is like bells, and it keeps Levi standing.

[okskz]

Hurting.

Mia + Stray Kids

mia gets injured causing her to miss out on performing which she doesn’t take too well.

the last thing I wanted to do was hurt my poor mia, but anyways I hope you guys enjoy reading this and remember requests are still OPEN! also send in some feedback, I’ll appreciate it a lot.

[10th Member of Stray Kids]

“Let me do it one more time.” Mia huffed, looking at the three boys in front of her.

Mia was currently going over her dance she would be doing as an intro for their up coming music show. She was hyped that they chose her, especially since this by far was her favorite comeback yet. And now she was showing off her skills as the dancer she is.

“You went over it like five times already. It’s perfect, Mia.” Felix said.

For support, all of dance line was with her since she mainly wanted their opinions.

“I know, but I just want to make sure I have it all down.”

“Ugh, Mia. You do.” Minho whined. “Can we go home now?”

“Just one more time.” Mia said. “Please.”

“Okay, fine. Just one more time.”

Hyunjin pressed play and the music began. Mia began to dance, going with the flow of the music but yet hitting the right steps. She had came up with the choreography and loved how it was turning out.

The three boys watched her as she danced. Although it was their sixth time watching her go over it, they were still hyping Mia up. They knew how much she loved to dance.

When Mia was done, the boys began to clap. “Amazing, Mia, like always.” Minho said, adding some sarcasm in his words. All he wanted was to go home.

Mia rolled her eyes as she slightly pushed him. “Let me go over it again.” She joked.

“No!” The three said in sync.

Mia laughed as she saw all their faces. “I’m kidding!”

“Are you excited?” Hyunjin asked.

“Yes!” Mia exclaimed, jumping up and down. “Which is why I want everything to be perfect.”

“Calm down, Mia.” Minho chuckled grabbing her by the shoulders. “You’re going to do great.”

Felix nodded his head. “They did good by choosing you.”

Mia looked down at her feet then back up smiling at them. She always loved how supportive they were of her. “Thanks guys.”

“Alright, lets go get something to drink downstairs so we can finally go back to the dorms.” Minho said, already heading to the door.

The four walked out, making their way downstairs to the cafe.

As they were going down the stairs, Mia was too busy on her phone to see watch herself when going down the steps. She was almost to the end when she misstepped on the fourth to last step, making her twist her ankle weird as she fell forward, landing on the ground.

“Mia!” Minho shouted.

All three boys went running to her, seeing Mia sit up and grabbing on her right ankle.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin worriedly asked, running his hand up and down her back.

“I think so, I don’t know.” Mia said. “I mean it did hurt but I think I can pass through it.”

Hyunjin and Felix helped Mia stand back up on her feet. She began to wince when she put pressure on her ankle. “Ow!” She cried. “Ok that hurts a lot.”

She even tried to walk forward but it was no use because the pain became stronger with the weight she was putting on her ankle. Mia lifted up her right leg, holding on tight to Hyunjin and Felix.

“We need to get you to a hospital right now.” Minho informed, taking out his phone. “One of you carry her while I call Chan.”

Hyunjin got ahold of Mia, lifting her up bridalstyle while Felix grabbed her belongings.

“Uh, Chan?” Minho said once Chan answered his phone call. “Don’t ask anything, I’ll answer you when you get there but we’re taking Mia to the hospital.”

Chan’s eyes grew wide. “What?!” He shouted, causing the rest of the members to look at him weird. “We’ll be right there.”

“What happened?” Woojin asked.

“We gotta go, they’re taking Mia to the hospital.”

Changbin jolted up from the couch when hearing what he said. “Why what happened?”

“Minho said he’ll explain later, lets just go right now.”

***

“Well, by the looks of the xrays, you have a sprained ankle.” The doctor said, pointing at the xrays of Mia’s ankle. “It could have been worse with the fall you had but luckily it’s nothing major.”

“But this also means you’ll have to be pulled out of any activities you have going on.”

Mia’s stomach sunk. This was the last thing she wanted to hear come out of his mouth. She didn’t want to miss out on anything during this comeback.

Minho grabbed Mia’s hand, rubbing his thumb softly on it. After he had explained what happened to the others, Mia had wanted him back to keep her company.

“It’s going to heal quickly, right?” Mia questioned.

The doctor sighed. “Sprained ankles usually heal within two weeks or more depending on the situation. Yours will probably be about two and half weeks maybe. You’re just going to have to let it heal on its own, so that means a lot of resting and no putting weight on it.”

Mia lowered her head, beginning to feel her eyes get watery. But she held them back knowing she didn’t want to seem weak in front of them.

“I’ll leave you two be. I’m going to grab some things to wrap your ankle with.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Minho bowed.

When the doctor left, a few minutes after, all the members came in. Chan being the first one to get to Mia. “Hey champ.” He said, noticing how silent she was.

“The doctor told us everything.” He added. “You okay?”

Mia shook her head, still looking down at her lap. “No, I don’t want to miss out on performing.”

Chan sighed, wrapping his arm around Mia’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Mia.”

“You don’t understand, I was so excited about this comeback. I got to finally choreograph something, this by far as been my favorite comeback and now I have to miss it.” She said, anger getting to her. “And now I have to miss out on doing the dance intro for the music show.”

The boys felt for her, especially Seungmin knowing how it felt to miss out on a few things.

Mia went back to being silent, the boys knowing she was angry. They knew her too well by now.

Minus Minho, the boys all left when the doctor came back. He bandaged Mia’s ankle then put an ankle strap around it.

“You should be all good to go now, just be careful and rest well.”

“Thank you.” Mia mumbled as Minho helped her sit on the wheelchair.

He rolled her out to where the boys were at in the waiting area. “Good to go.” Minho said.

Everyone got up, walking behind the two as Minho continued to push her.

When they got back home, Minho helped her lay down on her bed. There wasn’t much Mia could now, so she decided on taking a nap.

“Let us know if you need anything.” Chan said closing the door after Minho had walked out. The two knew she wanted to be alone at the moment.

A few minutes passed and Changbin came into the room, walking over to Mia. He sat down next to her, rubbing her head. Mia wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

“This sucks.” She said.

“It does, but we can’t do anything about it.” Changbin said, going down to kiss her forehead. “But you’re going to get through this. and me, along with the others, are here for you.”

Mia softly smiled as she had her eyes closed, sleep taking over her as Changbin continued to run his fingers through her hair.

Changbin smiled at his sleeping girlfriend, kissing her forehead once more.

[hotoffthepressfics]

Teach Me How to Dance with You

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 4,832

Summary: After a botched mission the Reader tries to get closer to Bucky, but can she get passed his trauma and get close to the man underneath?

Warnings: Injury and violence, angst, fluff

Chapter Soundtrack:

“How ‘Bout a Dance?” - Laura Osnes

“Teach Me How to Dance With You” - Causes

“Try a Little Tenderness” - Frank Sinatra

A/N: Hands down, my favorite fic I’ve ever written. I hope you all enjoy this super fluffy piece. 💕

Distant rumbling shakes the destroyed building. Small clumps of concrete drop like hail. The heavy slab of wall shifts lower, putting more pressure on your pinned leg. You groan in pain; your brain scrambling to figure a way out. You had tried to contact the others, but your comm had been damaged in the explosion.

The mission was supposed to be straightforward. Clear out the Hydra cell, take back any intel gathered. Except that someone had been ready for you.

The ground shakes again as more aftershocks roll through the vicinity. The wall moves another inch lower. You scream this time, the pain becoming unbearable. You wonder briefly if this is where you’ll die when you hear someone shouting. You crane your neck to see who’s coming. A dark figure cautiously creeps through the dust and smoke, body in a battle ready stance.

“I’m – here! Please, help me!” Your voice grates against your throat, coughing as you inhale to speak.

The figure zeroes in on you, quickly approaching. It dawns on you that perhaps this wouldn’t be an ally, but an enemy. If it was an enemy then at least this pain would be over soon.

Relief floods your veins as soon as a certain super soldier’s features come into view. His eyes widen in recognition and he drops to your side.

“Y/N! Can you move?” Bucky asks, assessing your predicament.

You shake your head.

“No, my leg’s pinned. The wall fell as soon as the chaos started and I wasn’t fast enough to move out of the way.” You answer a bit ruefully.

You’re suddenly aware that the pain in your leg has subsided. In fact, all sensation of feeling is muted as you attempt to wiggle your toes. You fight the rising panic.

“I’m gonna lift this up and you need to move out from under it. You got that?” Bucky instructs.

You nod and brace your hands against the floor. Bucky positions his hands underneath the rubble and lifts, his metal arm whirring with the force needed to move the heavy object. As soon as it’s high enough you pull and kick with your good leg until you’ve slid clear of the debris. Bucky drops the slab to the floor.

It was like someone had dropped hundreds of fire ants down your leg, the sudden rush of blood tripling the dulled pain. You hold your breath, trying not to scream. Small black dot swim in your vision. You’re dimly aware of someone speaking, the agony making it hard to focus on anything else.

Without warning you feel yourself become weightless as two arms lock beneath your back and knees. The jostling movements as Bucky carries you quickly from the scene renew the pain in waves. You whimper pathetically and beg him to stop.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I know it hurts, but we have to get you out of here. I promise, when this mess is over I’ll do whatever you ask, doll.”

You whimper again but nod and press your face into his shoulder, the coolness of the Vibranium soothing on your fevered cheek. You hear Bucky speak again.

“I’ve got Agent Y/L/N. She’s injured pretty bad. We’ll rendezvous at the quinjet.”

Steve responds though you don’t catch it. Bucky moves quickly, taking care not to jostle you too much. You attempt to keep your whimpers and groans to a minimum, though the trek to the jet feels like an eternity. As you two come up to it Steve careens around a corner and ushers you in.

Bucky sets you onto a seat and begins strapping you in as Nat, Sam, and the rest of the team barrel into the jet. Steve walks over to you. He kneels to inspect your wound, gingerly lifting the torn cloth and prodding the flesh beneath.

“What happened?” He asks you, his piercing blues staring up at you.

“Explosion… concrete wall…boom.” You weakly mimic the slab falling down with your arm. Your head lulls to the side. “Couldn’t move.”

Steve hums in understanding and resumes his examination. He nods once.

“The good thing is the skin isn’t broken, but you could be bleeding internally. Not to mention that the bone might be broken. Fractured at the least.” He says, a little relieved though still a bit grim.

Now that eminent danger was diverted the adrenaline was wearing off. Your eyes feel heavy and you struggle to keep them open. They drift close and Steve digs his thumb into your wounded leg. You yelp and yank away from his grasp, eyes snapping open to glare at him. He grins repentantly.

“Sorry Y/N, but we need to you stay awake until we can get you properly checked.”

“Well then, stop probing my poor leg and get this thing in the air already!” You whine, a little too petulant. You were hurt; you were allowed to be a little childish.

He leaves you be and begins giving commands to head back to the tower. Bucky takes the seat to your left and straps himself in. You incline your head towards him, trying to focus on his movements to stay awake. When he’s finished he rests his hand against his thigh, waiting for lift off.

You study his hand for a moment. On instinct you reach for it. Bucky pulls back the second your fingers make contact with his skin, but then he turns his hand over and laces his fingers with yours.

Silence passes between you two for a beat, then you mumble, “Dancing.”

Bucky cocks his head towards you, one eyebrow quirked. “What?”

“You said… you would do.. anything I asked. I want… you to.. dance with me.” You pant, the effort to remain conscious taking its toll.

He smirks and narrows his eyes at you, “Any particular reason for that request?”

You clumsily shake your head, eyes dropping closed. A sharp pain spreads over your cheek. You crack open your left eye and scowl. Bucky’s smirk widens and releases his hold on your pinched cheek.

“Alright, it’s a deal.”

•••

Recovering from you injury was a bitch. The silver lining had been that, thanks to Tony’s fancy, high – tech machines, you’d be able to walk again. The dark cloud had been the endless, and oh did you mean endless, weeks of healing and physical therapy.

A super soldier with incredible healing abilities you were not. Damn them.

No matter the struggle, you’d been determined to make a fast recovery. Tony Stark’s annual Avengers Gala has been two months away. Normally that wouldn’t interest you much, but this time was different. This time you had the procured promise from one Winter Soldier for a dance.

You recall the night you’d found a somber Rogers nursing a glass of whiskey, though it didn’t do much for him. You’d sat and listened to him reminisce about the good ol’ days. He told you how Bucky would try to set him up on dates and force him to go dancing. Steve bragged about how light on his feet Bucky used to be. He could sweep any dame he wanted off onto the dance floor and she’d be his. However, once he’d come back he never indulged in such things anymore. He figured Bucky felt he didn’t have a right to, after all the damage he’d caused.

It made your heart ache. After all he’d been through Bucky deserved more than the self – hatred he’d been made to feel. You wanted to give him back a piece of himself, even if for a moment. The problem was you’d just never had the nerve to broach the subject with him.

Until the accident. Perhaps it’d been the thought of never seeing him again without telling him how you feel, the delirium from your injury, or a bit of both. Whatever the case, you couldn’t stop picturing a scene with just the two of you dancing, Bucky smiling ear to ear. The image was so perfect you could believe you had died. So, without overthinking it, you’d asked him.

You’d been elated when he agreed. You worked hard and it had paid off, and he’d been there to help you initially. However, as the weeks went by Bucky became more reclusive. A dark shadow seemed to hang off of him, and it made you nervous. The Gala couldn’t come at a better time.

Now you sit in your wheelchair impatiently waiting for the elevator to take you down to the party. You smooth your hands over your curls and down to your white dress skirt, fiddling with the twin splits up to the tops of your thighs where intricate lace peaked through. You could walk now, in short bursts, but you couldn’t pass up the little show you could put on once you joined in the partying.

The elevator doors ding and slide open to reveal a very sophisticated Natasha. She wore a form – fitting, slate gray dress. Her fiery red hair is piled high on her head, little ringlets falling to frame her face. She looks stunning, as always. Nat whistles when you come into view. You roll your eyes but you grin widely. As you both settle into the descending compartment you shiver. Your veins buzz with the nervous anticipation.

“Are you ready?” Nat asks as she grips the handles for your wheelchair.

“Umm, excited, yes. Ready?... I’m not so sure yet.” You respond.

Nat pushes you out of the elevator and towards the double doors at the end of the hall. She steadies the seat as you stand.

“It’s going to be great, now get in there!” She encourages.

You take one last deep breath, roll back your shoulders, and waltz in. Your first steps are little wobbly, and you question for a moment if wearing the heels had been a good idea. You find your balance though and walk a little more confidently.

The event is in full swing. Civilians and agents mill about, chatting, laughing, and schmoozing the other Avengers. So many beautiful people but you are only interested in finding one in particular. As your eyes scan the crowd Steve steps in front of you, arms spread wide to take you all in. A beaming smile splits his face.

“Look at you! It’s good to see you are up on your feet again.” He exclaims, wrapping you up in a giant bear hug.

You laugh softly and return the embrace.

“Thanks, it’s good to be able to move around on my own. Have you seen…” you let the sentence trail off, slightly embarrassed to be so intent on the task at hand.

Steve pulls away and chuckles softly. He stands to the side and points to the bar in the far right corner.

“He’s over there. It took a lot to get him dressed and down here, so he’s brooding over a glass of bourbon. Seeing you might cheer him up though.” Steve pats your back good naturedly and steps behind you to greet Natasha.

Your heart flips inside your chest at the sight of him. Bucky looks stunning in the black, tailored suit. His dark, shaggy hair slicked back from his face. He turns his head at that moment to gaze out at the crowd. A small strand of hair falls rebelliously over his forehead, making him look a little more vulnerable than usual. As if attracted to your gaze his dazzling blue eyes lock onto yours. Your spirits dampen a little at the dark circles under them, his look a little hollow.

You begin to make your way over to Bucky, but every few feet someone stops you to congratulate you on your recovery and make small talk. Your gaze drifts back to Bucky every now and then. He had turned back around, hunched over the bar.

After what felt like an eternity you finally made it over. You lean against the counter and shift your body towards Bucky, beaming up at him. He continues to bore holes into the countertop. The circles under his eyes appear much worse this close up. Your smile falters a bit. You reach up for his hand.

"Hey, are you okay?" You squeeze your fingers around his metal palm.

His eyes flick up to your face, breaking himself out of his daze. He inhales deeply and adjusts his stance, drawing his hand out of yours in the process. You try not to let your disappointment show.

"Yeah, I'm great. Couldn't be better." He states flatly, a small lopsided grin forming but it doesn't reach his eyes.

He looks a little wild, like an animal caged and in desperate need to flee. You study him silently for a moment before you attempt to reach out to him again. Placing a gentle touch against his shoulder you try once more to get him to confide in you.

"I just... I'm worried about you." You hope your eyes convey the feeling and sincerity in your words.

Bucky holds your gaze for a beat before he scoffs.

"No need to worry about me, doll. I'm as fine as a warm, summer day in July." He takes a swig of his bourbon, grimacing as it burns down.

He returns to sullenly staring at the counter. You watch him sadly, letting your hand drift slowly down his metal arm. You feel each ridge through his suit. The band changes songs and your mind registers the slower tempo. Your smile regains its strength and you renew your efforts to draw Bucky away from the bar.

"Come on, I think I know a way to cheer you up" Your voice eager as you turn to pull him to the dance floor.

The farther you walk away, however, you feel Bucky's hand disappear from your hold. You slowly spin back and watch as Bucky pushes off the bar counter and heads to the exit, dragging his glass along the top. When he reaches the edge, he throws back his head and downs the rest of his alcohol. The glass clinks against the surface as he sets it back down and leaves through the doors you had entered.

You stand there at a loss, your high spirits quickly deflating. You knew it was silly to think so, but it felt like all eyes were on you and had witnessed your spectacular failure. A hand brushes against your shoulder and you jump. You look up at Steve's sympathetic face. At least one person had seen. He holds out his hand to you.

"I may not be as good a partner as him, but could I have this dance?” Steve asks.

You force a small smile and place your hand in his, your vision becoming blurry with unshed tears. He leads you to the dance floor and pulls you into position. You allow him to lead you through the song, eyes downcast at your feet.

"Hey."

You glance up to Steve's face. He smiles gently. "Give him some time, he's going through a bad spell."

You cast your eyes to the floor once more, saying nothing. The band closes the song and Steve tucks your arm through his, leading you around the room to mingle. You put on a brave face, being polite and friendly. A little while later Sam asks you to dance and you nod, pulling away from Steve. It's enjoyable and you appreciate their kindness in trying to cheer you, but you just want to wallow in self – pity. After an hour passes you decide enough time has passed to make excuses and retreat to your bedroom.

Everyone urges you to stay and revel a little more but you blame your departure on your healing leg and bow out. It wasn't a complete lie; a slow ache had begun in your muscle. Only when the elevator doors slide close do you allow yourself to shed the tears you'd been holding at bay. Some enchanted evening this turned out to be.

•••

Bucky shoots up off of his bed as his nightmare jolts him awake. He pants heavily, blinking to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He looks down at his chest; the white dress shirt he'd passed out in clinging to his form from the sweat pouring off of his body. Bucky flops back down on the mattress breathing slowly to calm his rapidly beating heart.

It was just a nightmare. It wasn't real. Y/N is safe.

Probably. He hoped you were safe. He'd retreated from Stark's asinine party to ensure you'd be safe. From him.

The nightmares weren't an unusual thing. They'd plagued him since he'd come out of being the Winter Soldier. His past misdeeds coming back in pieces to haunt him. Now, though, they had begun to morph. Making Bucky believe he might be responsible for everything that failed in missions against Hydra. He had been their assassin after all. Couldn't they still find a way to control him?

They now begun to convince him he had caused the explosion that hurt Y/N. His relief had been so instantaneous when he'd found her that he'd wanted to do nothing more than hold her and keep her safe. He had determined to get closer to her when they got back. Then the nightmares made him realize how wrong he'd be for Y/N. Bucky had nothing good to offer her; just heartache and pain.

Since then he'd started distancing himself from her. He had intended never to set foot downstairs tonight, but Steve had been so adamant he attend Bucky couldn't really say no. The moment Y/N walked into the room he'd wanted to pull her close and never let go. She looked so radiant, and when she'd seen him? That smile would keep him warm for days. Bucky loathed how much he'd enjoyed her touch. She was too good for him. She didn't understand the things he'd done, not really. Which is why he'd needed to leave.

Here in his quiet room Bucky could strengthen his resolve to let her go. He swallows, the saliva sticking to his parched throat. He needed another drink, though it did nothing really. Just quenched a thirst. Figuring the party had long ended he makes his way back downstairs to the bar.

He's surprised to find Steve sitting alone at the bar when he arrives. Steve pours and downs a series of shots attempting to get enough alcohol in his system to generate a buzz. Bucky slides into the seat next to him and pours himself a shot. Steve glances over and snorts. He shakes his head in disapproval.

"You're a real jackass, you know that?" Steve says, a tinge of anger to his voice.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Not that I'm disagreeing, but what is it for this time?" He challenges.

Steve inclines his head to stare at Bucky for a moment. He shakes his head again and throws back another shot.

"If you really aren't aware then maybe don't make promises you don't intend to keep. My god, you didn't have to see her face. It was like you'd kicked a puppy.”

Bucky furrows his brows. Now he was really confused. He downs his own shot and slams it onto the counter.

"Kicked a puppy? What the hell are you talking about?" He demands.

"Y/N! She'd been working so hard to be able to dance with you tonight but your head is so far up your ass that you can't appreciate all that effort. A beautiful woman wanted to make you happy, but you're too busy focusing on sulking. I'm certain she's given up now." Steve brings the glass to his lips but thinks better of it. He sets the glass back down.

Bucky sits stunned. The alcohol he'd just consumed churning uncomfortably in his stomach. He had made Y/N that promise, hadn't he? That's where she'd been trying to lead him tonight but he'd been too stubborn to notice. He had wanted to keep her safe, not hurt her with his perceived callousness. Bucky rests his head against the counter, exhaling loudly.

"I'm an idiot." He admits to Steve.

Steve hums in agreement. Bucky needed to make this right, at least for Y/N's sake. He lifts his head and gazes at his lifelong friend.

"Help me fix this?" He asks.

"How?" Steve stares at him one eyebrow cocked in question.

Bucky mulls it over for a minute, an idea formulating. He smirks and says, "Do you think you have a way of getting onto Stark's landing platform?"

•••

You had gone to bed hours ago but sleep was far from you tonight. You'd wept heavily and though the tears had stopped flowing your depressed mood kept replaying the disaster of tonight over and over, trying to discover what you'd done wrong. To top it all off, you really had overdone the walking. The dull throbbing of over exertion radiating up your thigh, adding to your misery.

It'd all been for nothing.

You thought sadly. You could get up and take some pain killers, but you decide to use the pain to indulge in your pity party.

A soft knocking sounds at your door. You ignore it hoping whoever it is will assume you'd fallen asleep and leave you alone. A minute passes before the action is repeated. Again, and again. The fourth time you sigh in frustration. You'd think they'd get the hint! You sit up in bed pulling the covers up to your hips before you lean over and switch on your beside lamp.

"Come in." You grumble trying to infuse as much annoyance into your voice as possible.

You weren't really sure who you'd been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been Bucky. You glance down at his feet as he stands in the doorway, unable to meet his gaze. Neither of you says anything for a moment. Beginning to feel awkward you clear your throat.

"Is there something you want, James?" You rarely used his given name, but your feelings were still raw from his snub. Endearing nicknames were not what you wanted to use right now.

When he still doesn't respond you huff and shift away from him, flinging the covers over yourself. You really didn't want to play games. You hear his footsteps approach and travel across to the other side of the bed. You shut your eyes as soon as you feel the covers slide down your head and body. Another moment of silence passes. Finally, Bucky sighs and murmurs,

"Y/N, please look at me."

You want to refuse him, but curiosity won out. You slowly open your eyes and peer up at him, hoping the puffiness from your bout of crying isn't noticable. Bucky kneels, carefully picking up your hands and gingerly holding them against his firm chest. You feel the steady rhythm of his heart underneath. You glance at your joined hands than back up to his face, eyebrows quirked in confusion.

"I want a do over." He says finally, "I'm a complete idiot, I know. I need you to understand that I never wanted to hurt you. I made you a promise, and I never break my promises. Just ask Steve." He winks and grins widely, trying to alleviate the tension.

His mood swings were starting to make you feel like you were on a roller coaster. One moment he was sweet as honey towards you, the next he was acting like he wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole. It was getting tiresome.

"James..." You pull at your hands but they remain firm in his grasp. You inhale a shaky breath, tears pricking your eyes anew.

You drop your gaze to your body lying on the bed. You had wanted to give him one perfect night. The gift of one good memory out of so many bad ones. Now instead of the gorgeous gown you’d been wearing you were dressed in a plain chemise. Your curled hair brushed out, not to mention your face. It was scrubbed clean of makeup, a combination of you washing or crying it off. No, this was not how you had pictured yourself appearing when you made this memory. You offered a more practical excuse than this however.

"James, it's too late. I wanted tonight to be special for you, but I can't even stand right now. I – I overdid it tonight. My leg is killing me and I'd be useless as a dance partner." You laugh bitterly.

Bucky is quiet for a few seconds, his thumbs grazing the backs of your hands lazily. You can physically see the lightbulb go off in his head when he gives you a sly grin.

"I can work around that."

•••

After a little more convincing on his part, you agree to Bucky's do – over. He cautiously scoops you up and carries you bridal – style out into the hallway. Just as he had the day you'd been injured, although this time was much more pleasant.

Inside the elevator you rest your head on his shoulder, content to be close to Bucky like this. You let your eyelids shut for a moment, soothed by his even breathing. The elevator dips as it stops. You’re aware of the gentle sway as he resumes walking but you keep your eyes closed, trusting him.

“Open your eyes, doll.” Bucky whispers softly.

You comply, looking up at his face before shifting your gaze outwards. Your breath is taken by the sight.

Amid the stars and city lights below Tony’s landing pad twinkles with flashing lights. A soft wind blows a few strands of hair across your face as Bucky moves you out onto the center of it. The blinking lights illuminate you both. It was like you’d stepped out into the middle of the sky, surrounded by the tiny celestial bodies.

Lost in your wonderment you’re caught by surprise as Bucky gently drops your legs. He easily catches you by your waist before your feet even touch the ground, careful not to put weight on your healing leg.

He draws you closer, placing your feet atop his as the sound of an old forties song begins to play around you. You hold Bucky’s gaze with wide eyes, speechless.

“I know it’s a little late, but may I have this dance?” He asks in earnest.

You can only nod shyly. He smirks and wraps his metal arm around your middle, supporting your weight as he moves his feet to sway to the music.

As the music continues you laugh quietly, a little giddy from the whirlwind of emotions you’d felt that night. You press your cheek against his shoulder. Trying to memorize the feel of his arm pressed to your back. The soft material of his dress shirt wrinkled beneath your hands. The words of the music playing. You feel Bucky’s breath whisper against your ear.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize my mistake. I just… didn’t want you hurt because… of what I am. What I’ve been.” He admits.

You lift your head to stare into his clear blue eyes, the low light deepening them. Suddenly you’re aware of the hidden emotion in them, afraid of what they’ll find in your returning gaze. He was opening himself up to you, part of him expecting you to reject him. You notice his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, uncomfortable with your scrutiny.

You smile sweetly, placing a gentle hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone. His eyes flutter closed as he presses his face into your palm, so touch starved.

“Everyone was some darkness in their past, Bucky. You, Nat, Steve, Sam… even me. You can’t dwell in it forever, but if you must then let me stay in that darkness with you.” You intone quietly.

Bucky doesn’t respond, letting your words work themselves into his mind. The song slows and he dips you. You let your knees bend with the motion, holding his gaze. Without much thought you lean up and press your lips to his.

You would have thought you’d prodded him with a taser the way he jumped back. So caught off guard he drops you flat on your back, breaking the magic of the moment. You burst into laughter as Bucky swears and drops to his knees, apologizing. He scoops you into his lap, running his hands along your body, inspecting if he’d hurt you.

“I’m fine, Bucky. I’m a little sturdier than that. A little fall isn’t going to kill me.” You grasp his face between your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“You’re a good man, James Buchanan Barnes. I believe in you, even if you don’t.” You say gently.

He glances down a moment, his hands trailing along your waist as he draws you closer.

“I’m beginning to understand that.” He says just before he captures you lips once more in a burning kiss.

EVERYTHING TAGLIST:

@booktvmoviefangirl @lowkeybuckyb @mrsdaamneron @xxashy999xx @c-ly-g @coal000 @rroguebones @ghostlyrose2 @part-time-patronus @emelielwh @peaceinourtime82 @buckysforeverprincess @geeksareunique @amnahs9695 @v-2bucky @scarlet-skywalkers @lokilvrr @thisismysecrethappyplace @sacre-bluhm @tatertot1097 @until-theend-oftheline @amoonagedaydreamer @marvelouspottering @thatfanficstuff @chuuulip @averyrogers83 @ellaprime68 @shield-agent78 @jewels2876

BUCKY BARNES TAGLIST:

@bloodiedskirtts @igotkatiepowers @misplacedorphan @superwholockwannabe @moonstruckhargrove @ladysergeantbarnes

[megalony]

Protect you- Part 9

Another part for my bodyguard! Ben Hardy series, thank you to everyone for the lovely feedback it is much appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction

Series taglist: @onceuponadetectivedemigod @coldmuffinpartycloud @happyvoidhumanhands @catharticcrelief

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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

Peeking his head around the paper-thin blue sheet, Joe sighed in utter relief that he had found (Y/n). He had look in on about three people now down in A&E who were all either shocked or annoyed to find him looking into the small cubicles sectioned by sheets.

Joe had the choice of heading into A&E with (Y/n) where she was being patched up or he could head down with Ben and see what was wrong with him. Joe had decided he would follow Ben and then find (Y/n) when he was able to give her some news to tide her over until she could see him. No one knew whereabouts she was so he had gone up and down the floor searching for his friend.

Heading into the sectioned off 'room' or whatever it was meant to be, Joe didn't ask before he perched himself on the edge of the bed (Y/n) was sitting on. Her head was bowed forward, arms secured round her chest as her legs were quivering but set straight on the bed. The nurse had decided it was best to tend to her head first which had needed stitches before she cleaned (Y/n)'s left hand from the nail she caught. Now moving to her right knee which was dislocated. She had quickly taped (Y/n)'s toes together as her big toe had been broken but was of not much concern at the moment.

(Y/n) didn't bother to look up, knowing Joe was the only person she had other than Ben. Her mother wouldn't have been informed yet and (Y/n) didn't want her mother here. Asking what had happened, demanding to know every detail and then somehow chiding (Y/n) for it.

When Ben had asked about why her mother seemed to uncaring and stuck up, (Y/n) revealed her secrets.

In her mother's head, if (Y/n) hadn't of gone to the police- even though the boy would be free- her brother would be alive. She had brought him into the situation because there was no way she could have justified why she was at that house without bringing her brother into the scene. So she had dragged him down with her and he crumbled. She cost her parents a child because she thought she was doing the right thing but she had only lost her brother, her parents and a portion of her life. So she punished herself every day for it.

Leaning over, Joe took a peek at her head, seeing there was a horizontal slash mark where the skin had split from connecting with the stall and then the floor a few times. He cringed before moving to wrap his arms around (Y/n), pulling her into his chest as a sob escaped her lips.

She was broken and Joe wanted to hold her pieces together.

He rubbed his hand up and down her arm as his eyes drifted to the nurse. (Y/n)'s trouser leg was rolled up causing it to be rather tight on her thigh but she could hardly feel the pressure anymore. An injection had been placed right into her joint moments before Joe entered as there was now another nurse in with them.

One nurse held (Y/n)'s upper leg before her knee as the other nurse held her lower leg, seeing (Y/n) didn't need a countdown until they put it back into its socket. Holding her breath, the nurse stretched her lower leg so the bones were straight before suddenly pushing it quickly, hearing the crunching pop showing it was now in place. (Y/n) screamed the moment the bones were connected again, her body trembling as she pressed herself further into Joe.

"I'm going to give you an anti-inflammatory and set a foam cast on your knee then you can relax for a while."

(Y/n) didn't respond.

Joe watched a needle press right into the swollen joint which made him feel queasy before her trouser leg was rolled back down and a black cast was strapped over her knee to keep the joint in place. Both nurses left the cubicle, pulling the curtain closed to give them some privacy.

"Ben... h-how is he?" (Y/n) latched her fingers into Joe's shirt as if needing something to ground herself as he slowly pulled back so he could look at her properly. There was a look in his eyes that worried her and caused more tears to well in front of her vision.

Ben had blacked out on her, he had lost consciousness and (Y/n) had done the same before waking up in the ambulance. No one would tell her where Ben was or how he was, if he was okay, if he was suffering or in surgery or not as bad as he had looked. She had no information on him except hearing Joe say he would find out for her and off he went. She needed to know that Ben was okay because he was in this mess because of her. She had been the reason Joe asked him to help her. She was the reason Ben had gotten hurt and bloodied and bruised and unconscious. If she hadn't of asked him to help her then he wouldn't be in the hospital right now.

"He's in surgery." Joe spoke slowly as not to alarm or suddenly send (Y/n) into shock but it seemed too late for that. As soon as the words left his lips (Y/n) was crumbling to pieces in his arms.

Her hands pressed to her eyes and clawing at her skin as she screamed, wanting to double over but her back had seized up hours ago. She let Joe pull her back into his arms as her mind started to crumble like the foundations of a building suffering an earthquake. She had caused this. Ben didn't deserve it but now he was hurt.

"Why?" (Y/n) managed to croak, her knee no longer hurt as much as her head.

"(Y/n), just calm down for a minute-" Joe didn't want to disclose everything the nurse had told him if it was only going to send his friend into a state of trauma. She had been through far too much these past few months and he didn't want to make her any worse. He needed her to take a calming breath and try to get herself together, to be alright enough to listen to him.

"Why?!"

"He got stabbed, the knife hit his intestine but he must have been fighting because he got internal bleeding in his intestine. When they fought, it ruptured Ben's spleen and that caused more bleeding. He's in surgery to remove his spleen and stop the bleeding... he could be there for hours." Joe had lied to the nurse and told her he was Ben's brother in order to find out what had happened to his friend. All he had seen was Ben being taken into the ambulance but there was blood all over him and in the toilets where he and (Y/n) were found.

The knife caught his intestine which had caused a lot of bleeding from the knees and punches he received. But his spleen had been ruptured meaning some of the kicks had been forceful and the rather useless organ was going to have to be removed or Ben wouldn't survive with a ruptured organ.

Surgery was going to take a while to remove his spleen, patch up his intestine and stop all the bleeding he was going through. It could go on well into the night.

(Y/n) didn't know if she could survive that. Waiting in here for hours on end with nothing to do but think about how she had caused this. She had put Ben's life in danger because he had put himself between her and her attacker. If she had just moved away, gone to Scotland or over to the States, she wouldn't have done all of this. She wouldn't have been found and she and Ben would have been alright in spite of never knowing one another. She would have saved everyone the pain and agony of this if she had done things differently.

But there was a part of her mind that was being selfish. A small part of her that was telling her she wouldn't do that.

(Y/n) would never have gone away and given the chance again, she would have taken Joe up on his offer for his friend to protect her because she was scared and worried. She had been frightened enough to know she shouldn't be on her own and to know she wanted to be safe. (Y/n) had wanted to know what it felt like to feel safe in her own home again or out in the streets and Ben had given her that. He had protected her on every occasion and (Y/n) wouldn't give that up.

She would take this route again because the selfish part of her knew that she wouldn't want a life where Ben wasn't in it in some form. She had gotten him in her life as her bodyguard and then as her boyfriend and she didn't want to go back to being without him.

But her selfishness may just have killed him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Come on." Joe whispered quietly, slinging (Y/n)'s arm over his shoulder as he wrapped his arm carefully around her middle. He eased her from the bed and to her feet, allowing her to lean her weight onto him as she brought her right foot from the ground. Any pressure on her knee was painful enough, walking wasn't the best option at the moment but Joe knew she was less likely to want a wheelchair.

Feeling drowsy, (Y/n) rubbed at her eyes with her free hand as Joe led the pair of them out of the room she had been moved to.

"Where are we going?" (Y/n) whispered although she wasn't sure why they were talking in hushed tones. Her head turned to the right so she could look at Joe who was smiling gently showing nothing bad had happened in the time she had been asleep.

When the nurse had come back to check on (Y/n) she found her in hysterics and Joe could do nothing to calm her down. So they had given her something to make her sleep before transferring her to a room instead of staying in A&E. Joe, although he had been sad for his friend, had been relieved she was asleep. It meant (Y/n) didn't send herself insane with worry or guilt and she could get some much-needed rest for a few hours. She had slept through the rest of Ben's surgery and it was now ten o'clock in the evening.

Now that (Y/n) was waking up, Joe decided it was the best time to sneak her into Ben's room so she wouldn't worry any longer than she already had. He had seen his friend already and talked to him, updating him about (Y/n)'s condition amongst a few other things before coming to get her.

"The nurse won't want you leaving your room, but Ben's awake now." Joe felt (Y/n) jump beside him at the news as her heart started to batter against her ribcage. He was awake, that meant that the surgery must have gone well, especially if Joe was taking her to see him.

"H-he's okay?"

"He's fine. No spleen, no more bleeding, all stitched up and good as new." They had given Ben a blood transfusion after removing his spleen and stitching up his intestine which hadn't had much of a wound thankfully. All the bleeding had been stopped and he was now alright. Sore and tired but he was alive and relatively okay which was the main thing.

Walking (Y/n) down the corridor, Joe turned left and guided them both down the adjoining corridor before stopping in front of one of the rooms.

He looked at (Y/n), silently asking if she was okay and ready to go in or if she needed a minute. (Y/n) bit her lower lip out of habit as she wondered how Ben would be. Would he be sitting up, lying down, lucid or perfectly awake? Would he be happy to see her or would he blame her for this? Would he shout at her, blame her for almost killing him, for trying to steal his life or take his life in place of her own? Maybe going to see him wasn't such a good idea after all.

As if sensing her hesitation and the thoughts swirling around in her head, Joe squeezed her hip, a lopsided smile coming onto his features.

"He wants to see you."

That was all the encouragement (Y/n) needed for her to nod that she wanted to go in. The way Joe spoke showed that Ben didn't want to see her for the purpose of shouting or accusing her of anything. His tone showed that Ben really wanted to see her and she could hardly wait out here for the rest of the night trying to find her nerves.

To her surprise, Ben was already sitting up which made her wonder just how long she had been asleep and how long he had been awake. He looked a lot paler than usual in a way that made him look sick, even his lips that were usually rose-red were pale pink. His eyes were almost like glass which was beginning to crack and they had circles of purple mixed with red beneath them but he was smiling when his eyes latched onto her frame.

He had a heartbeat monitor in his right index finger, a cap in his vein for what she suspected was morphine, another drip in his elbow for fluids and she could see a bandage surrounding his torso. His nose had been set back in place but it was beginning to bruise too.

Moving over to the chair settled to their right, Joe gently eased (Y/n) down so she was sitting in the chair which had been pulled close to the bed.

"I'll give you two some space." Joe stated quietly, leaning to kiss the top of (Y/n)'s head before he disappeared out of the room. Not wanting to intrude when he knew they had things they needed to talk about.

The pair seemed to stare at one another for a few minutes, debating which one of them was going to be the one to speak first. (Y/n) could think of a million things to say but none of them wanted to leave her lips. She noticed Ben wasn't thinking about what he wanted to say, he was analysing her instead. His eyes glancing over her features to see if she was hurt, looking to her left hand which had a cut down the middle of her palm. Seeing the very eyecatching cast on her knee which was why Joe had practically dragged her in here. He saw the little twinges of pain she was feeling when she tried to lean over but decided against it when her back screamed.

"I'm so sorry." (Y/n) let her eyes look down to her hands to save herself from seeing his reaction as she felt the tears beginning to fall from her eyes. "What for?" Ben sounded genuinely confused as to what she was talking about. There was a sadness in his eyes as his neutral expression wasn't there anymore. His lips were curving down at the corners as he felt his heart breaking at how broken she looked.

When her head bowed down, her hands pressed to her chest, her body froze as she felt Ben's fingertips ever so gently gliding over her head near her stitches. He didn't know she got hurt so much. He thought she had been pushed down, he didn't think she'd gotten cut or bashed about like that. He hadn't seen anything wrong with her legs either and yet she couldn't walk without her face twitching with uncontrollable pain.

"Y-you could have died!" (Y/n) raised her voice just a little as she tilted her head up to look at him. Her eyes looked like they were drowning as her lips were wobbling from the sobs and cries she was trying her hardest to hold back. "I- I thought... if you... t-then it would have been my fault." She hadn't known if she would have gotten the chance to see Ben again. To have a ruptured spleen was one thing, but to have such internal bleeding was something else and the surgery seemed to have taken forever. (Y/n) had been so sure he wouldn't have made it out of that operating room and she knew if that happened then it would be down to her.

A fresh river of tears escaped her eyes when Ben moved his hand to brush his thumb over her tears, swiping them away because they were hurting him as much as they were hurting her. He didn't want to see her cry, he wanted to see her smile or laugh or look away when she blushed.

"You asked me to protect you. But you never asked me to get stabbed, I got into that fight and I knew the risks. My job is to keep you safe, I wouldn't be doing that if I didn't put myself on the line at some point... besides, you still got hurt anyway."

(Y/n) had asked Ben to protect her but he knew she didn't think about it fully in the sense that he could get hurt. She thought since it was his job he wouldn't get stabbed or punched or shot at or kicked or anything. It just didn't spring to mind and then because she had asked him to help her she thought the responsibility lied with her when he was hurt. But Ben had walked into this job knowing that at any moment he could be hurt or he could die. He knew what he was getting himself into and the moment he got stabbed he could have turned around.

Ben could have gone back into the restaurant and asked for an ambulance, he could have left and got treated then and there. But he made the decision to carry on. To go into that bathroom and take another battering to make sure she wouldn't be killed.

He had failed when he said he would protect her because he didn't protect her fully. He had still let a threat get into the same room with her and be locked in there. He had let (Y/n) get hurt as much as he didn't want to believe it but he had allowed himself to get hurt because he took the risk of getting involved. She was not at fault for his injuries.

"I... I was stupid..." A rush of adrenaline sparked to life in her stomach when Ben suddenly cupped her chin in his hand, tilting her head so she was looking at him instead of her hands. He raised a brow at her comment as his head cocked to the side showing her he didn't believe it and he needed an explination for why she thought that. "There was a window in the end stall, I- I thought I could get out but it was a stupid thought... but I tried. I could only just get my shoulders in the space... got my head out the window a-and he grabbed me."

(Y/n) knew the moment the thought popped into her head that it was a stupid fantasy to think she could do that. Only in the movies did people escape out of bathroom windows and manage to get away unharmed. She should have known she wouldn't have the time to climb up and crawl out of there. Yet she still tried and almost broke her back and legs in the process.

"Love, being stupid implies you did something foolish like provoke him or pretend to faint. You saw an escape and you tried to get away, you're never going to be stupid for trying to save yourself. You wouldn't say it was stupid if you had more time to get out."

Stupid implied she did something that would cause more chaos or something that was pointless. When (Y/n) tried to escape, it wasn't pointless because she could have made it out if she had ten or twenty more seconds. She didn't pretend to faint and give him an advantage, she didn't provoke him and make him angry. She tried to get herself out of an impossible situation and Ben was proud of her for that. For not waiting like a sitting duck for him because that would put her in more danger if she didn't put up a fight.

If she had escaped through the window she wouldn't see it as a stupid idea, just because it didn't work didn't automatically mean it was wrong or foolish.

"I knew I wouldn't have enough time. He pulled me back b-but then just let go, I landed on the toilet and smacked my head on the wall. I could have broken my legs because I tried something I knew wouldn't work."

"You could have gotten a broken neck, a broken back, shoulder, arm. You could have died if you didn't waste that extra time trying to get away." Moving his hand, Ben motioned for her to lay on the bed with him. His expression told her not to even ask if she should in fear of hurting him because he wasn't having it. He wanted his arms around her and he didn't care what the regulations said, he was going to hug her.

Using the bed as support, (Y/n) pushed herself up before hopping the small space to sit on the bed. Laying on her front to ease the pain in her bruised back and her stitched head. She rested her cheek on Ben's shoulder, her arm wrapping around his upper chest away from his bandages as she felt him sigh as he wrapped his arms around her. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, being mindful of the stitches on the back of her head as he felt a wave of relief and content washing over him to have her back in his arms.

"I could have done things differently, you could have done things differently but what would be the point when in this outcome we're both okay? All that matters is I've got you, right here, right now, in my arms. You don't have to be afraid anymore and I'm not gonna leave you."

They could have done things differently, there were a thousand different ways this could have played out today but there was no point worrying about them if in this outcome both of them were alive and going to be okay. Ben had (Y/n) in his arms which is right where they both wanted her to be and she was relieved that Ben was going to be alright. They had no more reasons to worry anymore and Ben wasn't going to up and leave her after this. He wasn't walking away when he had only just gotten her into his life.

"D-did they arrest Daniel?"

The way Ben spoke implied that he had been told what happened to Daniel and (Y/n) just realised she never asked Joe if Daniel had been arrested or brought to the hospital. She didn't know what had happened to him.

When Ben gave no answer, (Y/n) tilted her head so her chin was resting on his shoulder, her eyes burning into his own as a silent conversation passed between them. She expected Joe not to tell her because he didn't want to panic her but she expected Ben to talk to her. To not hide anything from her especially not something like this when he knew she had to know to stop herself from worrying and overthinking.

Biting his bottom lip, Ben leaned his head to the side as his eyes told her she had to stay calm as he sighed.

"They couldn't arrest him, love... I killed him."

[renee-writer]

One Step Into the Future Chapter 26 Security Guard

“Security Guard?” Jamie jumps up. The lass sounds distressed.

“Aye lass.” It is his first day back and he tries to anticipate anything.

“My mam. She needs the doctor and I need help getting her in.”

“I can help with that.” He follows her out to her car. The lass was a wee wisp of a thing. Her mam not so much. He looks at her and then at her daughter.

“I know. Do you need me to get help?”

“Nae lass. Just a wheelchair.” He is proud of himself for recalling that is what they were called. He had called them wheeled chairs at first and got some strange looks. She nods and hurries to fetch one.

“You are strong looking lad but you might need help.” Her mam says. “I am near 500 pounds.”

“I've ye lass. Dinna fash.” He has the daughter lock and hold the wheelchair. He gets under her, and, with a grunt, he lifts up and into it.”

“You are strong!” The young lass is impressed and gives him an appraising look.

“Aye.” He takes a moment to catch his breath. “Let me wheel her in for ye. My girlfriend,” he understood the look and wishes to halt it,” or one of the other doctors will see her.”

He leaves them at reception and goes to get a drink out of the strange vending machine. He really enjoys the colas but Claire says he should limit them. It is just after the big lass, he needs something cold.

“Can you help me sir?” He looks down at the little lass. No more the five, her hair is in two braids and she wears a dress that reaches her knees.

“Aye lass. What do ye need?”

“My mam. I came to see the fishes and can't find her” She points towards the fish tank.

“I see. Where were ye and yer mam before ye came tae see the fishes?”

“The A&E. My brother gots hurt.”

“Weel, I work there sae I ken exactly where it is. Come lass,” the cola can wait,” I will take ye back tae yer mam.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh God! Clarisse! Where were you?” She runs up followed by a lad of three with a rag around his finger.

“I went to see the fishies!” She starts to cry when she sees her mam.

“You must tell me when you leave.” She pulls her close. “Thank you sir. She really knows better. I am glad she did as my husband and I have taught her and found someone in a uniform.”

“Aye. Dinna be tae hard on her. She is a good lass.”

“She is. Thank you.’ She lead her daughter away, simultaneously fussing and hugging. He smiles.

“Security to curtain 4!” It came over his radio and over the loud speaker. He hurries back to where Claire is. He finds a huge man that several lasses are trying to hold down with the assistance of Joe.

“Hold him down Mr. Fraser. So we can get him secured.” Joe instructs. He presses the man down. He is still struggling. He presses down harder and sees Joe give him a shot. The nurses strap his arms and legs down.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome. Is he going to be okay?”

“Yes. He has a mental illness and is off his meds. We will get him back on.”

He is sitting later, drinking the cola he had finally got. He watches the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees him drop. He had been sitting on the chair, waiting to go back.

“Sean!” the lass by him screams. He jumps up and runs over to them. “Help him!” She looks to him as a person of authority. He kneels by him. The lad is thrashing around. He seems to be choking. He turns him to his side.

“Go get a nurse!” he orders the lass. She runs towards the back. Jamie pats his back. “Breath for me lad. Keep breathing.”

“Grand job Jamie. We've him.” He looks up and meets Claire's eyes. She and a few nurses are there. They have one of the rolling beds. “Just help us get him on the stretcher.” He helps them lift him up.

“How long as he been seizing? Err jerking around?”

“Around three minutes.”

“Okay. You did well.” They hurry him back.

“Will he be okay?” he calls after them.

“Most likely. Just needs meds.”

He writes out, in beautiful, flowing cursive, about the man who fell, the lost little lass, the lad who needed restrained, and the big lass who needed help getting in. As well as all the others he had helped that day. He signs the last one and gives them to his supervisor. He then meets Claire at the car.

“How was your day?” She asks. He tells her with a smile.

[ambereyesandwine]

We’ve Got Soul: Chapter 5

WC: 3073

Warnings: Sass as always, Cursing as always, Elijah Kamski being a creep, some angst because we can’t save Gavin from his childhood, Gavin being not nice to Markus

Beta’d By: @teaspacebar

Notes: She’s late, but she’s here and bigger than ever. This chapter is about the art show and the things that follow shortly after, and is our last chapter of pre-game content. The next chapter will start into events from the game, so get ready. PS: the entirety of the fic so far is almost 12,600 words, which makes it longer than the middle school project where I had to write a “book”. Do with that info what you will.

Chapter 5:

June 4, 2038

6:44 P.M.

           “Breathe. You’re going to be fine.” Carl sounded as calm as ever.

           “Easy for you to say. You’ve done a million of these.” Fantasia wrung her hands and clutched them to her chest. “What if no one likes them?”

           “Do you like them?”

           “What?” She looked to her mentor.

           “I asked if you like them. Are you proud of the work you’ve done?”

           “Yes,” Fantasia stated firmly.

           “Then fuck what they think.” Carl glanced at the watch he was wearing before speaking again. “You have about fifteen minutes to take a lap and make sure everything looks the way you want it to before those doors open and you suddenly become occupied for the next few hours.”

           She nodded. “Okay.” Fantasia walked away to inspect each of the displays. By the time she was done, she was feeling much less nervous. “Carl, I-” She stopped short when she saw people start flooding into the room. “Oh, we’re starting. Okay.”

           It was several minutes of “Nice to meet you,” and “Thank you so much for coming,” before a pair of hands covered Fantasia’s eyes from behind.

           “Guess who.”

           “Well I know it’s not my best friend, cause he knows better than to touch my face when I’m wearing a full face of makeup.”

           “Oh shit!” Gavin immediately pulled his hands away and Fantasia saw him check them over for make-up.

           Fantasia chuckled slightly before reassuring him. “You’re fine, I’m wearing an entire bottle of setting spray.”

           Gavin’s face scrunched with confusion. “I have no idea what that means.”

           “It means I’m gonna need a fire hose to get my makeup off tonight.” She took a step forward to hug him. “I’m really glad you’re here, this has been insane.”

           “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.” He held her tightly as he spoke.

           When the two separated and Fantasia began to back away, she looked Gavin up and down. “You even got all dressed up,” She said with shock.

           “Well yeah, who do you think I am? I’m not going to show up to my best friends fancy art show scruffy and tieless.” He stood up tall and adjusted his sleeves, clearly proud of his appearance. “But,” Gavin gestured with open palms toward Fantasia, “Tonight’s not about me, and you look beautiful.”

           Fantasia’s smile spread quickly. “Aw than-”

      ��    “Even though you’re still not as tall as me, even in four-inch heels.”

            “You’re a dick.”

           “An aspiring artist can never be too humble.”

           “Fantasia?”

           She turned to find that Markus had approached her and Gavin. “Markus, hi,” She said with a soft smile.

           “Carl asked me to come check on you,” Markus said, “Are you doing well so far?”

           “I am, thank you.” Her cheeks bloomed a soft pink. “Gavin, this is Markus, he takes care of Carl and is probably the only reason that man is even still alive.” Fantasia introduced as Carl wheeled over.

           “You and I both know that if I had to, I would find a way to survive on paint chips and spite.” Carl said before leaning forward slightly to shake Gavin’s hand. “I’m Carl.”

           Gavin took the other man’s hand and responded, “I’m Gavin, I’m a detective for the DPD.”

           “And speaking of the DPD, we’re here!” Chris Miller’s voice rang from a few feet away, but he quickly closed the distance to hug Fantasia.

           “Hi, Chris,” She hugged him in return before reaching for his companion. “Hi, Tina,” She hugged the other woman with a smile. “How are you guys doing?”

           “Doing good. All of this is amazing, I knew you were good with spray paint, but this is so cool.” Chris’s voice was filled with awe as he looked around the room.

           “We’re gonna keep looking around,” Tina suggested. “You’re really talented Fantasia.”

           “Thank you, guys,” Fantasia smiled and waved slightly as the pair left the group.

           “It’s nice to meet you, Gavin,” Markus spoke kindly as he picked up the conversation from moments ago.

           “Yeah, I’m sure.” Gavin turned toward Fantasia, “I’m going to go catch up with Tina and Chris. I’ll see you later.” He wrapped his arm protectively around Fantasia and stared Markus down for a moment before releasing Fantasia and leaving.

           “I’m sorry, I don’t know what all that was about,” She apologized to Markus for the other man’s odd behavior.

           He smiled slightly as he spoke, “It’s alright. Do you need anything?”

           “I think I’m okay actually, but-”

           “But I have some business with an old friend, and I need Markus’s help,” Carl interjected. “So, we’ll be back in a little while. Try to talk to some more people and make as many connections as you can. This should get you a good start in the professional world, especially if you network well tonight.”

           “Yes, sir,” Fantasia said with snark in her voice.

           Carl only shook his head in response as Markus pushed his wheelchair away.

           Fantasia took a moment to look around the room and couldn’t help but smile about all the people that seemed to be enjoying her work. She heard a throat clear behind her and Fantasia turned to scold the man. “Gavin, I don’t know- Oh.” Her words stopped short when she realized it was not Gavin standing behind her. “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

           “An honest mistake,” The man said matter-of-factly. “Sounds like you could use a drink.” He snapped his fingers and one of the wait staff rushed over to offer champagne. The man took one and handed it to Fantasia before introducing himself. “I’m Elijah, an old friend of Carl’s. You must be the North Star of the evening, Fantasia.”

           “Uh, yes.”

           “Mm,” His eyes slowly traced down her body and back up to her face. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He noticed Fantasia’s uncomfortable smile and chose a different approach. “’The Learning Curve’ is an interesting name for an art show.”

           “This whole show is works I’ve done while apprenticed to Carl. I think the name is fitting.”

           “I agree. Although, you’ll have to come into your own if you want to be a real artist someday.” He took a step toward Fantasia. “You’ll need good connections for that.”

           Fantasia took a step back, “That’s what this show is for, but thank you for the tip.”

           “Of course.” He took another step closer. “If you ever need anything, you’re welcome to come to me for help, with very minimal strings attached of course.” He winked as a cocky smile covered the lower half of his face. “I’m sure you can google my phone number when you decide you need it. Have fun with your little show,” Was all he said before walking away.

           “Who was that?”

           “AH,” Fantasia yelped and quickly turned to find Gavin standing behind her. “Oh, it’s just you.”

           “Woah, just me? Ouch.” He feigned being upset.

           “I’m sorry, that guy was just so creepy.”

           “Yeah, he looked like it. You good?”

           Fantasia nodded, “I’m fine. I definitely don’t want this though.” She put the champagne Elijah had given her on the tray of a passing waiter.

June 4, 2038

9:10 P.M.

           Gavin walked with Fantasia as she took a lap around the mostly empty venue, holding her shoes by the straps and counting green stickers.

           When Fantasia spoke, it was almost inaudible, and filled with awe. “All of them sold.”

           “What?” Gavin questioned.

           She repeated herself, “All of my paintings were sold tonight.” She looked at him with wide eyes, brimming with tears.

           Gavin mirrored Fantasia’s smile and pulled her into a hug where she happy cried in his arms for a moment before they were interrupted.

           “Fantasia, are you alright?” Markus had approached the pair.

           “She’s fine,” Gavin stated defensively, holding Fantasia closer to him. “Did you get told to come check on her again?”

           Markus’s LED turned yellow for a moment as he processed before responding, “No, I saw she was upset, so I came to see if she needed anything.”

           Fantasia pulled away from Gavin and gently wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m okay, Markus. I’m just overwhelmed. I’m gonna go find Carl and get things wrapped up in here.” She turned to Gavin, “Meet you in the car in like 10?”

           “Sure.” Gavin didn’t look at Fantasia when he answered, he only continued to stare Markus down.

           Fantasia rolled her eyes and walked away, knowing it was best not to get involved in whatever he was trying to do. Wrapping things up with Carl was a quick process of explaining how buyers would receive their paintings and that the venue had its own cleaning and lock up crew that would fix everything up when they cleared out.

           “Okay, I’ll see you guys later.” Fantasia waved to Carl and Markus before exiting the front door of the venue barefoot.

           “Where are your shoes?” Gavin asked as Fantasia dropped into his passenger seat.

           “In my hand.”

           “Let me rephrase: Why aren’t you wearing your shoes?”

           “Because I’ve been in them for hours, and now I’m done.”

           “Yeah, but what if you step on glass or something?”

           “I didn’t though.” Fantasia looked at Gavin, “Can we go now? I’m exhausted.”

           “Yeah.” Gavin put the car in gear and made the mild drive back to his apartment. It was a few moments after they got inside before Gavin spoke again. “Can I ask you something?” He sounded cautious.

           “Sure, what’s up?”

           “What happens now?”

           “Now all of the art that sold will be carefully packaged and shipped out to the people that bought them and-”

           “No, I mean you’re a big artist now.” He interrupted her, “A bunch of important people know who you are so you’re gonna move up in the world and leave the rest of us behind.” It wasn’t a question.

           She turned to face him. “What?”

           “Well why do you need someone like me when you’ve got a whole bunch of new friends like that Kamski guy that can get you anything you want.”

           “Okay first of all, Kamski is a creep, and I would never, and second-”

           “What about when somebody else sees you and thinks they can do better for you? What if you agree with them? I don’t fit in a world full of fancy art shows and champagne and small talk all the time.”

           “No one’s asking you to.”

           “But you’ll need somebody who can when you start getting more attention. You wouldn’t want bad publicity about a shitty best friend ruining your career.”

           Fantasia seethed, “Do you really think that’s who I am? Somebody that trades in their best friend for a newer model just because I sold a few paintings?”

           “Upgrades, right?”

           “Excuse me?”

           “You’ll ditch me the second somebody better comes along. You wouldn’t be the first one, you won’t be the last.”

           The room fell silent, and the pair stared each other down, pain dominating both of their faces.

           “You do not,” Her voice cracked, and tears came to her eyes, “Get to lash out at me because you are scared.”

           Regret took over Gavin’s features the second he saw a tear fall over Fantasia’s cheek. “Tasia, fuck. Tasia, I’m sorry.” He reached out to her, but Fantasia stepped back, shaking her head slightly.

           “No one said anything about me doing all of this,” She gestured to her own body as she spoke, “full time. No one said anything about you being out of place, and even if you were, you tried. For me. And you think that makes me more inclined to abandon you, forget every ounce of our relationship, and find a new ‘best friend’ who’d be better PR?”

           “No, that’s not- I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I fucked up and said something stupid because I’m a fucking idiot. I know you wouldn’t do that.”

           “Stop.”

           “Tasia, please.” He sounded broken as he spoke, reaching for her again. “I’m just-”

           “Gavin,” She spoke softly, “Stop.” She wrapped her arms around him. “It was never one or the other. It’s not a choice between you and my art, because there’s no reason I can’t have both. The idea of giving you up was never even on the table.”

           Gavin slumped into Fantasia’s body and took a heavy breath as he hugged her back.

           “I love you, jackass, even when you get all sabotage-y.”

           “I love you too.”

           Fantasia felt the shoulder of her shirt dampen with tears Gavin would never admit he shed. She rubbed his back and held him tightly until he stopped shaking. “Go get some sleep.”

           “Yeah,” Gavin sniffled and nodded as he backed away from Fantasia to head to his room. “Night.”

           “Good night.” Fantasia stood quietly for a moment before she retrieved her overnight clothes from her bag in the linen closet. She quickly changed and set up her pillow and blanket on the couch to rest.

June 20, 2038

5:22 P.M.

           “This is terrifying,” Gavin stated as he blindly extended his arm to feel for obstructions in his path.

           Fantasia chuckled as she held his other hand, leading him to their destination.  “What, you don’t trust me?”

           “Not even a little. I could run into a pole at any moment.”

           “I’m not going to run you into a pole, I’m not stupid.” Fantasia yanked his hand so he was out of the path of a bicyclist flying down the sidewalk.

           “What was that?”

           “Nothing. There’s two steps here.” She guided him slowly up the steps.

           His passing through an entryway was signaled to Gavin by the small jingle of a bell. “Where are we?”

           The smile was apparent in Fantasia’s voice when she answered, “My studio.”

           “What?”

           “Take the blindfold off.”

           Gavin heard the door shut behind him as he pulled the fabric from his eyes and saw an empty room with white walls and a concrete floor. “Tasia, this-”

           “Isn’t it amazing?”

           He was hesitant to reply, “There’s nothing in it.”

           She laughed. “Well not yet. But soon it’ll be filled with canvases and paint and easels and anything I want.” Her eyes closed dreamily.

           “That’s going to be a lot of work.”

           Fantasia’s response was to look at him pleadingly.

           “You want me to help, don’t you?”

           “Please?”

      ��    He huffed. “Fine, but you owe me.”

           “Actually,” She chuckled, “This is you owing me for when I peeled you off the sidewalk after you went angry-drunk on a bar tender for kicking you out.”

           “I had a bad day, and that was months ago.”

           “And now I’m cashing in on it.”

           “Fine,” He grumbled.

June 29, 2038

2:31 P.M.

           “So, what else is there to do?”

           Fantasia looked over her notebook before answering Gavin’s question. “I think we just need to get these two boxes unpacked and get the futon set up in the back.”

           Gavin looked down into the boxes and snorted. “I’ll take futon duty. I’m not going to sort paints that aren’t even real colors.”

           “These are real colors.”

           “No, they’re not. What happened to just red and blue? Without looking, you tell me what kind of color,” He rummaged around in the box, careful to shield his choice from Fantasia’s eyes, “‘Admiral’ is.”

           She gave him a deadpan stare. “It’s blue.”

           “Damnit.”

           “Yeah, sweetie, that’s why I do art and you solve crimes.”

           “Whatever.” Gavin got up and started walking toward the back room. “I’m gonna go put together your couch-bed.”

           “Thank you!” She called after him as he walked out of the room.

           When Fantasia was almost done getting her paints organized on the shelves, she heard the door-bell jingle and looked over to find Carl and Markus in the doorway.

           “So, this is why you’ve been avoiding my house all week,” Carl stated as he approached Fantasia.

           She greeted him with a smile. “I have not been avoiding, I’ve been working.”

           “Clearly, given that it was just an empty room the last time I saw it. Impressive.”

           “Agreed,” Markus chimed in as he looked around, taking notice of the color-filled shelving that lined an entire wall, and the neatly organized brushes in one corner, and the varying sizes of canvas carefully leaned against a wall in stacks of three or four. “All of this was only a week? How did you get it all done?”

           “I had help,” She reassured. “Gavin?”

           “Yeah?” He came out of the back room, hammer in hand, and his face dropped when he saw Markus. “Oh. Great.”

           “Play nice. This is an important day for me.”

           “Yeah, alright.” He squinted at Markus for a moment before he relented. “What’s up, Tasia?”

           “I have a favor to ask all of you. I want you each to pick a color you think suits you.”

           “Any particular reason?” Carl asked.

           “You’ll find out in a minute.”

           If the men were unsure, none of them showed it. Each of them chose their colors and waited for Fantasia to explain further.

           “I have this idea that’s going to sound so corny, but I’d really like for the four of us to put our handprints on the wall. All three of you are just as much a part of the reason I have this place as I am.”

           “You don’t want them all to match?” Markus questioned.

           “No, I wanted them to be your own colors. Mine will be Boysenberry.” Fantasia showed her bottle of paint to the others.

           Markus showed his, “I chose Golden Yellow.”

           “Maya Blue,” Was Carl’s reply.

           “Forest Green,” Gavin read aloud from the bottle.

           Fantasia helped each of them paint their palms and fingers in their respective colors and chose an area near the door of the studio. “Okay, everybody pick a spot.” Fantasia planted her hand on the wall directly in front of her shoulder and left it there, waiting for the others to do the same.

           Gavin put his hand to the right of Fantasia’s and slightly higher. Markus placed his hand in line with Fantasia’s to her left. Carl’s hand landed lower than the others’, but between Fantasia and Markus.

           “Okay, pull them off,” Fantasia said with a smile and put her hands contentedly on her hips. “I love it.”

           “You just got paint on your overalls.” The monotone statement came from Gavin.

           A look crossed Fantasia’s face like she was dying inside. “I did.”

           “Are they ruined?” Gavin asked.

           Carl answered, “Oh yeah.”

           Fantasia nodded her head and closed her eyes in resignation. “Yeah,” She echoed.

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Sea Legs

Ch. 1 - Paradise 

Boku No Hero Academia / My Hero Academia Quirkless, Mermaid, Modern AU

Rating: Explicit | Excessive Fluff, Blood, Wounds, Nudity, Sex, Cursing and Vulgar Language

Genre: Romance / Humor / Angst

Main Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Koge Naegi (oc)

A trip to her grandmothers beachfront home was something that Koge had done every year of her life. This time, an unlikely discovery would change her life forever. Who knew explaining how to be a human could be so hard. 

In retrospect, there really wasn’t much reason for Koge to complain. Four months at a beach front property, in a huge house, with no responsibilities? It should have sounded like a dream to the young adult, but in her reality, it sounded more like she was going to a prison. To someone else, it sounded like a dream vacation, whom anyone would jump at the chance to take. And all for free, no less. Koge wished she could give it away to someone else, so that they could suffer through it. Maybe she was being a little overdramatic, but no one else knew of the horrifically boring torture she was going to have to go through.

First of all, it wasn’t like she was going to be there alone. No, she would be there visiting her elderly grandmother, who could barely handle such a huge house as it was. Well, her grandmother and the nurses, cleaning staff, and cooks that came to the home daily. Being around her grandmother wasn’t necessarily all that bad, but there were times where she needed to get away from her. If she wanted to do that, then all she could do was go to the beach, or take a two hour long bike ride to the city. That is, if she didn’t want to be locked up in her room with no entertainment whatsoever. Her grandmother had no cable or satellite television, and what was worse, no internet.

All she had was a collection of movies on VHS and DVD, CDs or records for music, and a variety of books and magazines to read from. Koge was pretty sure she had already read all the magazines from the many years she had been coming out here, and had already completed more than half the books. She had seen all the movies, flipped through all the photo albums, heard all the stories. That’s to be expected, after coming to this magnificent home every year since she was three. It didn’t used to be so boring, but now that she had just turned twenty one, it was the definition of a bad time.

Koge knew that she didn’t have to come, her parents told her so. But, her grandma was growing older, and she had always talked about how much she loved for Koge to come stay with her. When that trembling, sweet voice asked her if she had decided earlier that month, the young woman just couldn’t say no. So, resigning herself to four months of near isolation, Koge had packed up and began the long trek down to the beautiful beach. After a three hour plane ride, a crowded train, and a bumpy bus, she arrived to the place where one of her grandmothers caretakers was going to pick her up.

The attempt to get her grandmother to just call a taxi had been fruitless, so Koge was escorted along by a woman maybe a few years her senior, who looked like she would rather be doing anything than this. Koge could empathise, but with the money her grandmother was probably paying the woman, she knew there was no right to complain. Just as Koge knew she had no right to complain about her accommodations, so she just gave a polite bow to the woman, heaved her luggage in the trunk of the car, and shuffled into the back seat to try and keep from conversation.

Koge did have to admit that the loneliness would be nice. She was quite the loner as it was, a bit awkward with people and shut in due to her natural personality. Her constantly blank expression was both like a curse and a blessing. She could keep her emotions hidden when she wanted, but was unable to express them properly when she found herself needing or even wanting to. This drove most people away, all except for her best friend, who had whined about wanting to come with her. Poor Nene, Koge thought in that moment, crossing her legs up into the seat. We’ll see how long she can go without calling me.

“How was the trip down here?” The woman in the driver's seat asked with a forced polite tone. Koge glanced up at the rearview mirror, catching her eyes in that split moment. “It was fine, I guess.”

The awkward silence filled the small car from that moment onward, and it was just as Koge liked it. She wasn’t all that good at small talk, nor did she really enjoy it, especially with someone who huffed and puffed the entire drive.

Annoying.

Forty-five minutes down a winding dirt road wasn’t entirely enjoyable, but Koge did have to admit it was better than the rest of the transportation she had suffered through that day. The view was nothing to scoff at, with vibrant forests and hints of the ocean through the trees to her right. It was something Koge had always marveled at, even from a young age, at how her grandmother lived in such a beautiful, magical place. She used to pretend that she was a magical creature, traveling to an enchanted castle where she would see land and sea monsters everywhere. Much to her disappointment, all she ever saw was annoying laughing white birds and the occasional dead fish on the beaches.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Once, when she was about six or seven, Koge had sworn that she had seen shimmering orange scales break the surface of the ocean. She had tried to convince her parents, but they had told her over and over that it was just an illusion created by the sun. Her grandmother, however, was quite interested in her story and had always humored the thought. A magical creature, a large fish, or just some discarded trash? Who knows what it was, but even to this day, Koge was sure that she hadn’t just imagined it. Either way, it was a memory, and it mattered little now.

Pulling up to the huge mansion was as it always had been, completely breathtaking and incredible. Sure, its age had begun to show itself due to neglect and lack of upkeep, but it was still just as magnificent as it always had been. How her grandmother could stand living here on her own was beyond Koge’s comprehension, but the old woman was happy, and that’s truly all that mattered. Though, the wish that she would at least get some type of internet still tumbled around in Koge’s mind, especially as she pulled out her phone to check the time. No internet, just the ability to call… Damn it.

With a huff of her own, Koge shoved her phone back into her back and opened her car door, not bothering to wait for the woman who was making her way around at a snail's pace. Putting her arms through her backpack straps, Koge took a moment to stretch her sore, stiff limbs, taking in a deep breath of the humid air. Arriving at midday, it was so hot she had already started to sweat, feeling her white hair sticking to the back of her neck. “Man, seems hotter than normal…” Although she was mostly talking to herself, the woman unpacking the trunk responded, with a tone of ‘pay attention and help me’ mixed in her voice.

“Ah, well, not particularly. Let’s get your luggage inside and get out of the heat.”

Unable to resist a small roll of her eyes, Koge complied, taking the heavier bags just to shut the woman up. She didn’t mind the weight of the bags, though she did mind the size of them, as her petite five foot one inch frame had difficulty juggling them about. Still, she was fit and athletic, able to maneuver them with limited problems. Leaving the other woman behind to complain to herself, Koge made her way through the main entryway, where a much more pleasant voice greeted her.

“Koge, my darling! How was the trip?” Wide smile on her wrinkled face, Koge’s grandmother shakily stood from her wheelchair, holding her arms open for a hug. Koge abandoned all her bags, quickly approaching the frail woman before her before gently embracing her. “Hey, Grandma. It was okay. A bit bumpy, you know.”

“Oh, I wish they would fix those darn roads, they’re always so difficult.” Pulling away, her grandmother cupped Koge’s cheeks gently. “I’m just so glad you got here safely. And that you decided to come at all. I was worried you would think you’re too grown up to come see your grandma.”

Koge gave a small shake of her head, helping the elderly woman sit back into her wheelchair. “Of course not. I’m never too old to come see my Grandma Kiki.” Laughing, Kiki held Koge’s hand gently when she was finally sitting comfortably. “Hearing my name does make me sound younger, doesn’t it? My dear, could you help me with my mask here, I’m feeling a bit winded.” With a simple gesture, Koge spotted the oxygen mask resting over the left armrest of the wheelchair, connected to some tanks that hung off the back. As requested, Koge helped to fix the mask over Kiki’s nose and mouth, allowing her to sit back and rest for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Koge.” Kiki began once she felt better, looking up at her granddaughter with a bit of sadness. “I haven’t been feeling well as of late.”

“That’s okay. Don’t push yourself. I’m a bit tired, so how about we both get some rest and I’ll unpack, then we can catch up. What do you say?”

“Aah, I could use a nap, I think. Go on upstairs, dear, and get some rest. I have the room on the far end all made up for you, with a beautiful view of the ocean and a balcony. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

She was right, Koge did love it. The room was huge with its own en suite, with a shower and a jet tub meant for a king. A king bed and a reading nook topped it off, along with a television that didn’t quite fit the updated features of the room. Wow, she must of had this renovated all for my stay. She’s just too sweet.

The best part about the room, however, was the balcony. Just as her grandma had said, the view was breathtaking, and Koge could have sworn she could see miles upon miles down the beach to the left. On the right, the beach ended at a series of forest covered cliffs, with caves she had explored on occasion with her father. It was all so beautiful, the water shimmering as it rolled across the white sand, that Koge immediately felt the urge to go down there and soak in the sun. Then, she thought of how awful her pale skin would burn, and how tired the heat was making her. The beautiful scenery soaked in, Koge began to make her way back into the room, when something caught her eye.

At first, it looked like something orange up against the surface of the water, there and gone again in the same second. Huh… Something orange. Tch, must just be my mind playing tricks, since I had thought about that on the way here.

Ignoring the vision, she opened the french doors and entered her room. Pale blue gaze landing on the bed, she immediately felt herself drawn to it, collapsing onto the fluffy comforter. Wiggling herself under the covers, she cuddled a pillow tightly to her chest, sighing softly in relief.

Four months here…  I think I can manage, as always. It is a beautiful place…

[paladin-pile]

What “Pilot Personality” do each of the Voltron Characters fall into?

This has been sitting in my docs for exactly a year under the title “stupid freaking meta” cause it was a pain to write. But it’s been on my mind so I thought it was time for another post, based on my experience as a pilot and member of the aviation community. 

As I was making this I realized that this might be some good fanfiction material for y’all, so enjoy. (Fyi: every pilot-related example or description I use in this post is a real life true story/situation that I have heard or experienced! Nothing made up.)

I began learning to fly at age 16, before I learned to drive. I got my pilot’s license at age 19 which was almost 6 years ago, and it’s safe to say I’m just a little obsessed. I spent years around pilots from all walks of life, and very quickly caught on to the fact that there are different types of pilots, but still a common thread that goes through everyone.

When I sat down one day in July 2016 and watched Voltron for the first time, I was immediately smitten. It was everything I loved: space, flying, technology, awesome characters, all rolled into one. Interestingly enough, I can pinpoint the EXACT SECOND I first fell in love with this show...

I literally paused the episode here and texted my friend about how I had found the new Big Thing in my life. This was it, this show knew us. As I continued watching I was thrilled to see each character be such a fabulous example of the different types of pilots and have a lot of deep threads I resonated with. I’m going to go through each main character and describe what “type” of pilot they fit and why. So buckle up folks, this post is Hella Long. First up,

Lance

It may be hard to believe, but I speak from experience when I say the vast majority of pilots are exactly like Lance. Even if your normal personality is not like his, he amplifies the traits that are inside every one of us. It doesn’t matter what your personality is like on the ground, your pilot personality can be a lot different, 

Lance isn’t scared. 

These are the kind of people who live for dives and stalls, pitching down the nose and laughing maniacally as the engine builds up to a whine and the ground fills the windshield. In order to get to this point, you have to be really comfortable with the aircraft, know what it can do and what it can’t. This kind of boils down to the first point about pilots in general that are illustrated nicely in the show:

Pilot thing #1: You have a healthy fear of what you should be afraid of, but you know you don’t have to be afraid of much.

Personally I have learned to fear only three things as a pilot: birds, fire, and myself (the ‘myself’ point we’ll come back to later when we talk about Shiro). Most everything else is a non-issue and might even be considered a thrill. This doesn’t mean we’re not cautious and responsible, but we’re not scared.

True, imidately following this scene, Lance crashed the simulator (which I also theorize he did on purpose), so it could be argued he’s not that great of a pilot, but the point still stands. He’s in training, we all did stupid stuff in training, I did stupid stuff in training. It’s the attitude we’re talking about here.

* Side dish for thought: I see a lot of the fandom throwing around the term ‘cargo pilot’ like it’s some sort of insult, or ‘oh that’s so boring and has no prestige whatsoever’ but let me set one thing straight: being a cargo pilot is the BOMB, and I would take that over being a fighter any day.

Flying a 180 ton aircraft filled with supplies or troops through canyons and around mountains, low enough to trim bushes and kick up sand, and the satisfaction of yelling “5 tons of toilet paper comin’ in hot!” into the comms is an end in itself. The poor grunts in the back are strapped in like sardines and trying not to hurl at your erratic maneuvers, but they don’t complain cause they know you have to stay low and move crazy to avoid enemy fire. You and your Thicc Baby are proud as anything when every load is delivered safely, whether its potatoes or tanks. (From what we see in Voltron it seems Lance didn’t want to be a cargo pilot, but I have to admit it would have fit him pretty well.)

#2 Talking to your aircraft

There is not a pilot on the face of the Earth that does not talk to their aircraft like it is a sentinent being, and treat it accordingly. No matter how big and tough we are, you can always catch us patting our ship with a dopey smile and gooey eyes, cooing “Hey Beautiful” or any other myriad of pet names.  It’s a thing, everybody does it. I don’t pretend to know the psychology.

Keith

Ok story time.

A few years back, I took a nurse’s assistant course and worked in a elderly care home.  It was an awful place. Elderly folks who had no family lived in small, dirty rooms, no longer able to care for themselves or sometimes even communicate. I knew everyone on the floor, and tried to show them love as much as possible in their often abusive situation.

One such person was a tall gangly man in his nineties. He was confined to a wheelchair, never made eye contact, and never spoke. Every mealtime we would take him into the cafeteria and sit with him, spoon-feeding because his hands shook too much to hold a utensil. We were encouraged to talk to him as much as we could, even though he never responded and none of us were sure just how mentally present he was.

One time I went into his room, I noticed something. On the rickety table at the end of his bed was a small, dusty photo frame. It held a picture of dashing young man in an Air Force uniform with sharp eyes and half-smirk, a curly-haired little girl in his arms. One of the nurses told me that was him and his daughter. Since we now had a little something in common, I decided to bring it up at the next mealtime.

“Sooo, I saw your picture on the end table,” I hedged, holding out a spoonful of potatoes. I didn’t expect a response, and sure enough, he remained staring at the table blankly.

“You were in the Air Force, huh? That’s pretty neat. I’m a pilot too, but I’ve haven’t flown anything very exciting.” I held the spoon to his mouth and he took it, swallowing slowly.

“P-38’s or P-51’s are my favorite,” I rambled, scraping together the creamed peas. “There’s something about the sound of that Merlin engine that can’t be beat!” I hummed and shook my head with nostalgia. The fighter planes from WW2 had always been my favorite. With the next bite ready, I turned back to him, and almost dropped the spoon in shock.

His head was lifted, back straight, staring at me with such intensity I almost thought he would leap out of the seat. My mouth hung open, spoon frozen midair, and for a moment I sat there in disbelief. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes, bright and fiery, overflowing with words he couldn’t speak. Finally, I recovered enough to smile, wishing I could hear what he wanted to say.

“I love flying,” I whispered, “There’s nothing like it, is there?” His eyes stayed locked on mine, and it was a long time before he could be coaxed into taking another mouthful.

Here’s where I’m going with this. Pilots like Keith are from an era that no longer exists. His are the type we can only find in the silent annals of history, like WW1 and 2. Pilots who were called “knights of the air,” unorthodox and brave in every sense of the word. Cutting out engines and making impossible maneuvers that pushed themselves and their aircraft to the limits and beyond. Split-second, all or nothing stunts that shouldn't have worked but did, pilots that flew by pure instinct and blood running like fire through their veins. Pilots who couldn’t let go of the controls when they landed because they had been gripping them too hard, too long. Pilots who would wait till the very last second to bail out of a burning plane so they could direct it to crash into a target, pilots who coaxed their plane to finish a mission even though half of it was missing, oil was smearing over the canopy, and hydraulic fluid was dripping down their legs. Pilots that got into a new plane that had just been designed and no one knew what it could even do, and flew it anyway. Kamikaze pilots who put their plane into a dive toward a target, knowing it would be the last thing they ever did.

They fought a war, some of them won, and they all disappeared.

The nature of air war isn't like that anymore--with the advent of supersonic jets and drones, the era of the fighter pilot is all but gone, and the gritty sword fights in the sky have become extinct. Even those who are fighter pilots today are given strict guidelines, and risks are reduced to a minimum.

Pilots like Keith don’t exist anymore because they are not born, they are only made under certain circumstances.

The closest you will get to those kind of pilots today are probably bush pilots, they’re pretty much the only ones left that push everything to the limits, fly with no rules, and rely on instinct. But for now, that spirit of Keith, that “you fight like a Galra,” drive, that extra sense and lion-heartedness...are only found in museums, in monuments, and in gravestones.

Shiro

Shiro is a classic fit to what we call a “Jet Jockey.” Responsible, hero-type, yet still a massive dork; the guy you’d see in charge of the Thunderbird demonstration team. He’s a leader, calm, charming, and fierce. It’s in the blood, in the way they walk and smile. When you hear the term ‘you got it or you don’t,” these people definitely “got it.”

They’re perfect, polished in the exterior, but what you sometimes will not notice is their vulnerability. Most all of them have lost close friends, hold some kind of loneliness or sadness in their chest, something that only the love of the air can soothe. Be nice to these guys. People like to put them on a pedestal, but they need human companionship to not let lost in the sky.

I’d like to take a moment here to share my insights from aviation relating to Shiro, namely, Pilot Error, and the Kerberos mission. I see a lot of content in the fandom of Keith and the Holts being outraged that anyone could suggest that the Kerberos crash was caused by pilot error. The typical response is along the lines of, “Shiro was the best, the brightest, most skilled and responsible student, he would NEVER make a mistake like that.”

That’s bullshit and every pilot knows it.

From our very first day in flight school, this concept was drilled into us until we could recite it in our sleep. Mistakes happen to everyone, no matter how good you are or how much experience you have. You think, “Oh I would never do that” or that just because so-and-so is legendary they can do no wrong. It happens every day and the best pilots are not immune. The vast majority of crashes are caused by errors by pilots who are not dummies. It’s the go-to answer when no one is quite sure what happened because it’s the most likely reason. It sobers the rest of us, thinking “that could easily be me,” but we don’t doubt it or get outraged cause we know it can happen to the best of us.

People are prone to make mistakes for no reason, when we know better. It just…didn’t even cross your mind at the time. You thought you were doing the right thing. It’s happened to me personally and I very nearly got killed, but it really opened my eyes to the whole issue.

Semi-related to this is a theory I’ve been toying with: that Shiro getting chosen to pilot the Kerberos mission was a controversial and even scandalous decision. Here’s the cold hard facts: There is no way Shiro was the most experienced pilot at the Garrison. Even if he was a prodigy and had insane natural talent, someone that young just does not have the experience that an older pilot that had been flying for years would have under his belt. Shiro was probably so good that some of the higher-ups at the Garrison wanted to assign him to Kerberos, but the other portion were against it, saying it wasn’t smart to be sending someone so inexperienced, no matter how good he was. When the Kerberos crew disappeared, it could easily have become a huge, maybe even public scandal, where the people who opposed the decision were crying “I told you so!” and citing what a mistake it was to assign someone so young.

The youngest astronaut NASA ever sent to space was 32 years old, and she certainly wasn’t in charge of anything at the time. The youngest person ever in space was a 25-year old Russian cosmonaut named Titov who was essentially strapped into a capsule and launched into orbit to test what happened to the human body in zero gravity for 24 hours (not pleasant, they found out). He was also the second human to go to space, when we knew pretty much nothing about anything. I can’t imagine the guts this guy had, knowing he was going up as an experiment. The whole story is worth checking out. Honestly this sounds more like something the Garrison would do, and the whole situation adds to the suspicion that something is fishy in the place.

Experience rules, I cannot emphasize this enough. It doesn’t matter how “good” you are or how fast you learn, the guy with more experience will always be better than you, no matter how old they are. For Shiro to be the most experienced at such a young age, all the other older pilots and instructors would have to be dead or medically disqualified, or something.

Short end of it is, there is no way Shiro was the best pilot at the Garrison, or the best choice for the mission. Even if he was a prodigy and at the top of his class, which I’m sure he was, that’s not what the higher-ups use to make a decision. Of course, this whole theory might be moot. The creators most likely put Shiro on the Kerberos mission for plot reasons only, but realistically is a little different story.

Hunk

Hunk’s category of pilots hold a special place in my heart: the mechanics. They probably otherwise would not be pilots, but it’s convenient to be able to fly the stuff when they’re running checks. Always covered in grease, their second home is in the hangar, tending to the planes like a kind doctor to a child with the flu. They listen to the aircraft. It’s more of a technical relationship, not quite as mystical as the other pilots tend to portray it. For the Hunk-type, it’s dissected into moving parts.

These folks are NICE. My best friend in training was a mechanic named Bob, who was a ray of sunshine and the sweetest guy absolutely ever. He was also HUMONGOUS, and it was always a kick to seem him squeezing into a tiny Cessna 150 with a squinty-eyed smile and a cheerful “Let’s see how she does!” He would never fly more than a few trips around the pattern.

“Nothing major,” he would say. “I’m not gonna do any crazy stuff like these guys,” *points thumb over shoulder at the Lance-like pilots drinking coffee* “Just little trip around the pattern so I can check out what I did without having to wait for another pilot to take ‘em up.”

They talk up a storm, they ramble. Mechanics tend to make fun of pilots for knowing nothing about how the airplane works, and have gut intuition like no one else. You LISTEN to these guys when they have a hunch or you. will. die.

Pidge

Pidge’s type of pilots are fun to be around. Curious, in the learning stage, usually teenagers, enthusiastic and eager, wanting to be a pilot for the intellectually stimulating reasons (“I read all the fighter manuals”).

I’m reminded of one of the students who was training at the same time I was. 5’4, short cropped hair, large aviator sunglasses, devouring the training books with quick wit and banter with the instructors. She also would roll up to the hanger in her sporty convertible right after getting her drivers license, blaring “Sexy Back” loud enough to shake the propellers off the nearest aircraft.

They may not have the ingrained, primal love for hardcore flying that pilots like Lance, Keith and Shiro have, but to them it’s cool and they love it for their own reasons. It’s a stepping stone to something greater, more knowledge, laid out before them like the rolling landscape far, far below.

Allura

When we’re sorting Voltron characters into pilot categories, Allura drops with a perfect little clink into the box marked Female Helicopter Pilots.

If you’re looking for folks that are Tough, who can catch grenades in their teeth while brandishing two sub-machine guns and walking through fire, you’ve come to the right place. Arnold Schwarzenegger's got nothing on these women. Don’t cross them, they can most likely bench press their own helicopter. They instantly generate mad respect, you feel like bowing whenever they walk in a room.

Fixed-wing pilots and helicopter pilots are two very different breeds, and usually are very loyal to their respective aircrafts. Most airplane pilots wouldn’t be caught dead in a helicopter and vice versa. Of course there are exceptions, but the accepted culture is for the two groups to rib each other, kinda like cat people vs dog people.

These pilots have a beaming smile and deceptively sweet twinkle eyes. These are people who have whipped the butts of every obstacle given to mankind, stared death in the face and beat it with their bare fists. I might be exaggerating here, but this is the feeling one gets when coming across these women.

Coran

Oh Coran, you are one of the most iconic pilot types, and the one folks are most likely to encounter hanging around any small airport. The middle-aged-and-older folks that fly to to other cities for lunches, dubbed “$100 hamburgers.”  They are chipper, wear shorts and Hawaiian shirts, and like to reminisce about the good old days. I am not exaggerating. Most of them are hobby flyers or retirees with eccentric senses of humor and very large amounts of money, maybe more than one plane and an antique car. If you start talking to one, be prepared to spend a while. They are a bottomless well of tall stories of glory, belly laughter, and that snark and slightly odd sense of humor that can turn dark if the right subject is brought up.

All together, pilots are a colorful bunch. Most everyone fits into these basic categories, but there’s a common thread through it all. Love, almost to addiction. Once we get in and taste the crisp air aloft, feel the vibration of the aircraft beneath our fingers, hear that ethereal voice speak to us. There’s no going back. It calls and calls and calls, and the farthest star is too close to hang our dreams.

Hope this has been helpful or interesting to someone. Please feel free to come by and talk to me about anything!

[grootiez]

The Joys of Raising a Teenaged Groot- Chapter 54: The Kick

The next day, the other Guardians came by to visit Groot, who just finished up his breakfast formula and was coming out of the nurse’s office with Rocket and Azrik.

“Hey there, sweetie.” Gamora cheerfully greeted the teenager as he hugged her. “What’re you up to today?”

“Well, Groot is going to be with you guys all day today.” Azrik explains as he takes off his bag that he was hanging from Groot’s chair.

“Won’t you be here though?” Drax questions.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve scheduled for some of the residents to go horseback riding and-.” Azrik began before Gamora put her hand up in the air.

“What about Groot?” Gamora interrupted. “Isn’t he one of your residents?”

“Yes, but it wouldn’t be advisable for him to go. I’m sorry.” Azrik apologizes. “Since he isn’t able to ride a horse, he would only be able to watch everyone else and that wouldn’t be much fun for him. I don’t want him to-.”

“To what?” Gamora sternly asked.

“To feel like he can’t do what everyone else can.” Azrik replies.  “He can do what everyone else can.” Gamora emphasizes. “He just has to do it differently than everyone else.”

Azrik nods in agreement. “Alright. I’ll contact the ranch and tell them that we need a few more horses for you guys.” He then gets out his cell phone to contact the ranch as he escorts the Guardians out to the nursing home’s big bus.

Since the bus had a wheelchair lift equipped on it, Azrik took the opportunity to teach the Guardians how it worked, since the van that they would be getting to drive Groot around would have the same exact lift. He also taught them how to tie down Groot’s wheelchair and how to apply the seat belt to him so that the teen could ride securely in his mobility device. After the other patients (two of which were in their own wheelchairs, but could operate them on their own) and their families were on board, Azrik drove the bus to the ranch.

When they arrived and everyone was off the bus, they all went to where the riding ring was. Mantis was too frightened to get on a horse, so Drax stayed back with her and as an alternative, they brushed some of the horses as the staff at the ranch got them ready to be ridden.

As Groot watches the other patients mount up on the horses, he was scared and nervous, thinking that he would fall off. To prove to Groot that there was nothing to be afraid of, Rocket volunteers to get on his horse, which was a miniature horse, albeit a rambunctious one.

“Haha, you sure that you can ride that horse, Rocket?” Peter chuckles.

“Shut up, Star-Munch! I’ll let you know that I’m-. Whoa! Whoa! WHOA!!!!!” Rocket shouts from the top of his lungs as his horse jostles him while Rocket fails to maintain balance in the saddle, getting bucked off and landing into a fresh pile of horse manure.

“Haha! Looks like you’re not the best at everything.” Peter states as he dismounts his horse. “I, on the other hand-.”

“Oh, blah, blah, blah.” Rocket rolled his eyes as he stood up and tried to get off some of the muck from his jumpsuit. “Just because you were on Terra when you were a kid doesn’t mean that you know everything.”

As Rocket grabbed a towel to wipe his face clean, Peter walked behind his horse and patted it on the back. The horse startled, and Peter, forgetting one of the most important rules of farm life and being around horses, instantly regrets it.

“Oooh!” Peter winces as he brings his knees together and covers the area of impact with his hands. “Right in the gooey bag.” He then promptly falls to the ground in pain.

“Haha!” Rocket was giddy at the sight. “And were you raised on a farm or in the barn, Star-Munch?” He asks as Peter scowls at him.

“Shut up.” Peter growls through his teeth. “Help me up and make sure Gammy doesn’t see.” Rocket grabs a towel and drapes it over him so that the humie doesn’t get the dirt, muck, and whatever else was on the trash panda’s body on himself as Rocket helped a hobbling Peter to the first aid station before he made his own way to the showers.

Meanwhile, Azrik was getting Groot ready to get on his horse. This horse was the most calm of all, which made it a good fit for Groot, who was nervous. Once Azrik pushed Groot’s wheelchair up the mounting ramp, he carefully picked the teen up from his chair and carried him over to the horse. Azrik sat down on the horse bareback before getting Groot in the specially-made saddle that was designed to give him the support that he needed to sit up, although, Azrik was sitting behind him in order to give additional support and to make sure that Groot didn’t fall off.

“Alright, Groot, are you ready to go?” Azrik asks as he grabs the reins and helps Groot hold onto them.

Groot was frightened as the horse took its first step with him on it. He cried and begged to get off, no matter how much Azrik tried to soothe his fears.

Gamora say this and rode her horse over to Groot from where she was riding with Nebula and Kraglin.

“Groot, sweetie.” She places her hand onto him. “Sweetie, don’t be scared. You’re doing great. Remember when you used to ask Rocket for piggyback rides when you were a baby?” Groot nods his head. “This is going to be just like that, except the horse ain’t going to argue...” Groot laughed. “See? It’s going to be fine. Azrik is riding with you to make sure that you’re safe and do you want me to ride alongside you?” Groot again nodded. “Alright, honey, let’s go then.”

Gamora rode alongside Groot and Azrik for the rest of the day. Groot had a good time and enjoyed being around Gamora, who was like a mother to him. When it was time to get off the horse, Gamora helped carry Groot off of the horse and get him into his wheelchair. Rocket met them when they got off the mounting ramp and Azrik went to go get the bus, which Kraglin and Drax helped Peter towards and Mantis and Nebula were already on it.

“Hey, Groot.” Rocket greeted him. “Oh, wait, your feet ain’t on the footrests yet, let’s get them situated before we get on the bus.” He picks up Groot’s left foot and straps it into the restraints on that footrest before moving onto Groot’s right foot.  As Rocket picked up Groot’s right foot, he fails to notice that Groot was starting to swing it and Groot accidentally kicked his father. Rocket then looks at his son, and instead of getting angry or upset with him, he smiled at him, having regained something else that Rocket thought was lost forever. Before Groot was loaded onto the bus, Rocket hugged his son and told him how proud he was. —————————————————————————————————

Read on Ao3.—————————————————————————————————

[collecting-stories]

PT 2 | Modern!Ivar

1 | 2 | 3

Once home from the date Ivar had to wonder what proper etiquette called for in this situation. He really wanted to talk to you again, in fact he really hadn’t wanted to call it a night at all. If he had it his way, and aside from right now he usually did, he wouldn’t have ended the night outside your apartment building. But after dinner he’d asked to walk you home and you let him and you didn’t say anything about him getting to his dorm unaccompanied.  

So he fidgeted around his dorm, trying to decide what to do and thankful that his mother had insisted he not have a roommate. They would have been complaining about the noise for sure if they existed. Instead it was just him, anxiously rolling back and forth in his room, too hyped to go to bed.  

He had texted both of his brothers to ask their advice. Was it too soon to call you? Ubbe said just wait till morning cause you might be sleeping. But that only served to plant seeds of doubt in Ivar’s stomach. What if you were sleeping? What if you had just gone home and gone right to bed and weren’t up like he was, excited about the evening and unable to think of anything else. Hvitserk suggested waiting the standard three days. “Make her wait for your call.” He claimed. As if Ivar was not the one who was desperate.  

No, neither of these suggestions would work. He would focus first on the task of getting to bed, then he would decide what to do. Ivar transferred himself into a stationary chair and began changing for bed. With pants and shirt folded on the desk for his daytime aide to put away in the morning he used his crutches to get from the chair to the bed. Once he’d gotten comfortable in the lumpy college provided bed, he checked his phone.  

He didn’t have to decide after all because sitting there on his phone was a text from you. It said that you had fun and you were glad he had asked you on a date. He considered messaging his brothers again, telling them you had texted back and what should he do next but he decided against it. Ivar gave himself a pep talk, reminding himself that he had asked you out and gone on the date without anyone else’s help.  

Ivar wrote me too than deleted it and wrote I had fun too would you want to get coffee tomorrow and then deleted that to settle on me too once again. Which he immediately followed up with do you want to get coffee tomorrow which he followed up with if you’re free.  

-I have lunch for an hour at one. I can meet you outside the children’s hospital? I’ll be there tomorrow.-  

Ivar was both thankful that tomorrow was Saturday and he had no classes and terrified that you had actually said yes. This meant having to go out with you again. Something he wanted to do but also something that pulled him out of his comfort zone.  

Despite the agreed coffee meet-up not happening until one Ivar was still up early, jittery from nervousness. He texted his aide and told them not to bother coming by, most of his dressing he could manage himself with assistance straps and an old shoehorn he had rigged with velcro. It wasn’t the most ideal thing in the world but sometimes it was nice to not have to rely on someone else for something.  

He didn’t dress up, not that he really had last night either. He’d managed jeans at least yesterday, which were impossible to get on himself and hell to get off at the end of the night. So today he wore track pants and a hoodie. He clipped his bag to his wheelchair and collapsed his crutches so he could hang them from the clips as well.

Ivar met you at the entrance of the main building, having timed the commute from his dorm to the children’s hospital correctly. It was right beside the regular hospital that he’d seen you at yesterday. He was relieved when you came outside, casually dressed in clothes that were appropriate for work but allowed you to do therapy in them.  

“Hey!” You smiled and waved, walking over to him. “So there’s a Starbucks across the street or we can go further up, there’s like food trucks and stuff since this is so close to campus too.”  

“We can do that, I’ll be honest I’m not exactly the eating on the go type.”  

“You should get one of those trays,” You joked,  miming the shape of a food tray in front of you as you started walking beside him.

“I have a cup holder, that’s about as fancy as it gets.” He replied, nodding to the cup holder attached beside his right leg.

“Oh perfect.” You jokingly set the coffee tumbler you’d been carrying into the cup holder and Ivar laughed.  

“Using me for my cup holder.”  

“I mean,” you shrugged, “seriously though that’s my third yeti. The other two got swiped, I can’t leave them anywhere.”  

“You’re joking.”  

“I’m not!” You replied, “people steal them.”  

“When this one disappears you’ll know it was me.” Ivar said. When you made a reach to grab it he swerved away making you laugh. “So, how’s work today?”

“Good, I’m doing pool therapy this afternoon so you’ve got me pre-chlorine.” You replied.  

“Thank goodness. I have a strict policy against dating anyone the smells like chlorine.”

“Bummer,” you laughed. “I was actually going to ask if you’d wanna try the pool sometime?”  

“I don’t know. I don’t really swim.”  

“Well think about it, whatever you’re comfortable with. Anyway, we’ll worry about it when you aren’t taking me out for lunch.”  

You and Ivar both agreed on a food truck that did fries and different types of grilled cheese, which you promised was way better than it sounded. There was a bench close by and you sat down, Ivar rolling his chair in facing you.

“Alright, take your coffee back so I can put my drink down.” He instructed, waving his hand at you.  

“Okay jeez.” You laughed, swapping out your yeti for his soda. “So do you usually go home for the weekends or do you stay here?”  

“I try to stay here, my mom is...well you met my mom.” He grimaced.  

“She seemed nice.”

“She’s overbearing. She wants me to move out and be independent cause she’s worried I’m not getting as much social interaction as my brothers but then I do exactly what she wants and she calls me fifty times a day asking if I'm alright.” He replied. “Oh Ivar, how’s your aide? Are they helping you? Are the books too heavy for you? Is everything accessible? Do you want me to talk to your teachers about you taking breaks or not doing all the homework? Make sure your drinking enough water. It’s everyday.”

“Well to be fair she sounds like a normal mom, but I mean, I see it a lot. Moms don’t want to feel like their kid is missing out and most of the time the kid doesn’t really feel like they are. I think...it’s hard to think about your kid always being the odd one out, so to speak.” You shrugged, “I don’t know, it’s not my place to speak on it.”

“You’re right though, I get where she’s coming from. Part of me kind of hopes this will shake her out of it and she’ll start treating me like she treats my brothers.”

“Are you the youngest?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh no...then you’re the baby forever. Chair or no chair you’re screwed.” You teased, moving your leg so that your foot was on his footrest and pulling him a little closer to you.  

“What about you though? Any siblings?” He asked.

“Younger siblings.”  

“So you’re stuck being the oldest? Then you’re screwed too.”

“Too true.”  

“See I’ve got cripple privilege though. My mom lets me get away with way more shit than my brother’s ever did cause I’m in a chair and she feels guilty. So I’ve got you beat.”

“It appears you do.” You laughed. “Well I am trapped into going back to work while you get to enjoy this lovely day.”  

“I’ll probably just go back to my room and watch netflix.” Ivar shrugged, rolling back so you could stand up and throw out the trash.

“Even that sounds better.”  

“Come over after work. We can do takeout?” He offered, hoping he wasn’t being too forward, what was he supposed to do in these situations. When was hanging out too much hanging out?

“Yeah alright. I’ll probably be like, eight or something cause I’ll have to shower first, get the chlorine out of my hair.” You replied.  

“Oh please do, I don’t want your chlorine hair stinking up my dorm room.” He joked. You laughed and playfully gave him the finger.  

Once you were back to the hospital you turned to Ivar again to say goodbye. “Thanks for lunch, I’ll text you when I’m finished, maybe I can get out early.” You said, already trying to decide if it would be wrong to pass off your last patient to someone else.

“Okay.”  

You leaned down and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth, feeling the way his lips pulled back in a smile at the action. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah, see you tonight.” Ivar nodded, watching you walk back into the hospital, a slightly dazed look on his face.  

I’m honestly just making Ivar a more able-bodied version of my sister at this point lol. Except we have a normal mom. 

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You can find my other Ivar stories here. And Vikings stories here.