#And want at least ONE S/I that is Short Angry Guy coded

[kakusu-shipping]

Finally... S/I lore built completely off a friend's S/I... I have peaked. Jade the Dragon (MLP version) is @delightfuldevin's S/I. Thanks again for letting me use you as a building block for this one!!

I've actually had a concept of a Dragon S/I for MLP for a long time. I thought the concept that Dragons grow based on their hoard was fascinating and though what would happen if a Dragon had nothing? And also sense Twilight had to hatch a Dragon Egg for her Magic exam, did other students do the same? What happened to those dragons?

This is just the combination of those two concepts.

Most dragons have Something. The first thing they are given is their name, usually dragons are named after something precious and hoard worthy, hoping starting with something so precious would lead them to greatness in their futures.

The student who hatched Emile didn't give him a name, or anything really. They weren't friends. To them, Emile was just a pair of claws that could write and hold things. To Emile, the Student was his boss. They were co-workers at most.

Eventually, this student flunked out of Celestia's magic school, leaving Emile no where else to go. He was around 13 at this time, still without a name or anything else one may consider a hoard, and still the size of a child.

Princess Celestia ended up offering him a job, sense he stuck around and wandered aimlessly without the student to tell him what to do. He worked as Celestia's right hoof, like a Dragon would to a magic student. He wrote her letters and retrieved her books. She didn't need him, and he knew that, but Emile was never one to ask for much of anything, so he worked for the Princess without a word of resistance.

Working for the Princess came with many more freedoms than Emile was use to, but still nothing he could claim as his. He stayed in a guest room in the Castle, never spoke as his room, never decorated outside of what already existed. He gained knowledge from the Castle's Library, from borrowed books. He paid for his meals with hard work, he always put things back where he got them. Nothing was to keep.

This continued until Emile met Jade, a strange Dragon who'd come and go as he pleased, and talked of adventures through portals and across realities. Jade gave Emile his name, and with it Emile felt 10 feet tall. Jade gave Emile Friendship and Family, things one wouldn't consider to be owned, but when Emile first claimed Jade as his friend it became obvious he'd grown, more than physically.

Perhaps, with Jade's help, Emile can find he has the right to ask for thing and take up space.

[mytearsbuckochet]

What's your most hated Bummy scene?? I'll tell you mine. It has to be the kiss in the hospital lobby and buck getting outed because of his soot covered mouth. Never hated a 911 episode more than that. I love Buck. They just made a mockery out of him by that scene.

Where do I even start.. Couldn't agree more about the soot scene, although I'm more angry at the writers about that one than I am at Tommy, given how important it was to Buck that he came out to Eddie and Maddie on his own terms and how much weight he gave those interactions I feel like even though that one was supposed to be a cute little "hehe look this is very Buck coded", it fell short in that I would've liked everyone else at the 118 to find out in a more heartfelt way ya know??

In terms of my least favourite(s), the whole arc with billy boils was a very interesting play by the writers in that it highlighted the differences between Eddie and Tommy in a meaningful way. On one hand, Eddie, who has presumably been with Buck in the hospital the whole time he was being treated for his boils, is used to Buck's hyperfixations and Wiki deep dives, and finds them wholesome and cute. I reblogged a post a little bit ago where Buck told Maddie about how her and Chim always finish each others sentences and that theyre basically already dating, and then contrasted with how Eddie was finishing Buck's sentences in that scene. Buddie fanatic aside (I will admit im obsessed with these two idiots), THIS is the kind of domesticity I've always wanted for Buck's partners, where they acknowledge and love those little moments that he has.

Now lets go ahead and look at Tommy's side of this whole thing: Tommy's reaction to seeing the boils + how he treated and viewed Buck's obsession as exactly that, an obsession + the graveyard scene??? You can break it down into "oh well Buddie have known eachother since s2, Bummy have been together 6 months", but from my perspective the fact that Buck didn't even realise Tommy didn't like women until their 6 month anniversary (???) just goes to show that they don't really know that much about one another. Tommy was completely right in the breakup scene; he was definitely not Buck's last, and the poor guy is definitely in need of some self exploration (#letbuckfuck) before I'd be happy to see Buddie honestly (and thats not even considering the work that needs to be done on Eddie, my guy is going through it rn with Chris). Anyway; I just read this amazing fic by playinginthundestorms (on ao3) and I think the way they described Tommy (slightly Tommy bashing), was overall how I imagine he sees Buck. It never really felt like Tommy was fond of these little things Buck does in the way that Eddie (and the rest of the 118) are, more seeing him as childish or juvenile as the fic described. And it makes sense, tommy is older than Buck. A whole other can of worms and probably the icing on the cake for me was the Abby debacle, the misogyny really showed??? like man you have not changed since Hen my lord. Calling Abby out for running off with some "himbo half her age" was wild considering thats what he is currently doing with Buck? Especially with all the shit she had to go through with her mum at the time? Like what on earth is your excuse Temu? Anyway, to cut a long rant short, I actually have given you like 50 reasons, but i definitely think that Tommy was a well placed plot device and it was obvious from the start. Also, ABC could've chosen ANYONE to be Buck's first experience with a man and they were like yep lets use the racist homophobe from Chim and Hen begins cos why not?! I probably would've had a far less negative opinion of him if he was a fresh character, and I think that's on purpose, I think it would be really interesting if they go down the road of hen and chim sharing their experiences with Tommy now that they've broken up, and that they didn't say anything cos they just wanted Buck to be happy. Definitely after that heartfelt scene with Hen especially, that I didn't get cos of that bloody soot scene.

[et-mberg]

Affection (Isaac McAdoo x fem!OC)

This one may be short, but I still believe it to be adorable.

Thank you to everyone who liked my post about being interested in possible Isaac McAdoo content.

If you would like to read the actual fanfiction (that has only just begun) – you can find it on Wattpad, titled “David Bowie Eyes”

Rhea Ripley as “Bowie” Roscoe

xXx

Just recently Bowie had begun to train with the Boys.

She could no longer work in martial arts, therefore she was much less physically active.

But now, that she could do more extensive training again, having finally fully recovered from her brain surgery, she had to make use of the opportunity.

Sure, she was no footballer, but she certainly could run, do weight training and more similar physical stuff.

She was glad, that not all her hard work in the past had gone to waste during her recovery.

It was after the most recent workout in the gym, when she was sweaty and ready for a shower, that she was approached by the resident Frenchman, “Ma Cherie, I need a favour.”

An eyebrow of suspicion raised and her voice cautious, she agreed, asking what he wanted.

“I have been invited to a wine tasting event by a potential sponsor. I would like to take you with me”

“Okay? Why invite me?”, she was still very much suspicious.

Richard was a flirt, always has been, it was simply a part of him and it did not bother her, it was rather flattering and did good for her self-confidence, but never before had he honestly invited her to something like this, or something without at least one other person from the team.

“We French believe, that beautiful women by our side bring luck”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

That sentence was followed by a loud “Oi!” from Captain Isaac McAdoo.

The amount of “Oi!”s yelled by the guys to get someone’s attention was astounding.

A determined look on his face, well, more determined than usual, he made his way over to Bowie and Richard, the second of whom he did not knowledge for the moment, taking the former’s face gently between his hands.

His voice was stern, possibly somewhat angry, even though his words were most certainly not, “You’re fucking beautiful, Bruv. If beautiful women bring luck, then there is no one else he could take to be luckier.”

Isaac’s next words addressed his teammate, looking at him, but not taking his hands from Bowie’s reddening cheeks, “She’s coming with you. Tell me the dress code and I’ll get her something.”

Isaac looked back to Bowie.

After a determined – that man truly was determination personified - nod, he took advantage of his 13 centimeters height advantage to press a kiss to her forehead and walked away without another word.

Richard was quite amused when he asked, “what just happened?”

Bowie, incredibly confused and flustered, simply answered him, that she would apparently join him before taking her change of clothes and walking off to take a shower, knowing that her boys had enough respect for her, to not peek.

And knowing that Roy and Isaac would hurt anyone who tried.

The Richmond players had better things to do, to even think about that, anyway – an animated discussion:

How did those two think, that they were not together?!

[luxshine]

Stranger Things Season 3 episode 3

Max is being a great friend for Eleven, but I wonder if anyone has told drunk Hooper where El is.

Will needs a better group of friends.

Mike also needs to remember that his girlfriend CAN and will check on him telepathically.

AND OMG, Hooper is SO happy that Mike is not there, that El has girl who is a friend, and ok, he's drinking too much, but he is right to be happy (although I am sure that in the 2000's? Girls would also been forbidden to close the door)

Spying on people is a BAD idea. But spying on Billy? Right now? Oh, worst AND BEST idea of all times since we need to get this plot moving and I am not sure they will listen to Dustin about the russian spies.

Will knows how to get what he wants. Good for him. He still needs better taste in men and friends.

Yes, Hooper actor was getting ready for Red Guardian, wasn't he? And the writers really hate his character because last season Hooper would have completely listened to Joyce about the magnets instead of staying angry for being jealous.

I see that all heterosexual men in the series have gone idiotic. Like, the only smart ones left are Steve and Will. Dustin is also smart, and he has a girlfriend, but given that all the others lost their mind, I am going to assume he's bi like his brother Steve.

Billy's room is surprisingly clean for a metal head of the 80's.

El knows. Oh, El knows something is seriously wrong with Bill. Time for Max to know her brother is a serial killer.

Seriously, I hate Nancy but I wouldn't blame her for going postal at the newspaper.

Ok. Dustin is straight. His gaydar is completely broken because he can't see that Robin and Steve? Totally siblings, not boyfriend-girlfriend. But also, he's very, very interested in keeping Steve happy. I love him.

Will is suffering a lot, and he really needs better friends. And wow, Mike. That is so jerky. "Not my fault you don't like girls". UGH. Mike, drop dead. In a ditch.

El is going to have to tell Max her brother is a serial killer.

Hooper is a jerk and I am so sorry that Joyce is still suffering for Bob's death.

Steve and Dustin need to learn a bit about spying because that guy looks more like an idiot gym rat than a russian guy and I was completely right. Also, Steve, his eyes are up there.

And of course, Robin is SO cool that she is the one who finds the Russians and breaks the code. I really like her more than Nancy already.

Nancy, just saying, you can add arsenic to the coffee and no one will miss those jerks. I mean, no one would even report the murders because it would not be a story and no reporter would be left to report them!

Oh hey! There's the Hooper I love! Speaking about feelings, understanding how people feel, being empathic and understanding! Ok, he still haven't got the memo that he should listen to Joyce's intuition, but at LEAST he is being the Hooper I love.

Will got one more thing that Eleven hasn't got: an apology! Well, he would have gotten it if the others had remembered where he goes when he feels lonely and sad. WIll, get a boyfriend, and then you can go back to those days of happiness. Also, start wearing pants. One of the problems is that you look very, very weird in those shorts. Steve can rock them, you can't.

Mrs. Driscoll got eaten by the Blob, didn't she?

Oh, worse. She got infected. And Jonathan forgot his camera. Jimmy Olsen, he's not.

Oh Steve... you know you are going to have to be super babysitter again, don't you? I mean, this time it took Dustin only three episodes to get himself in real deep shit. He's getting better at that! Which is not good for Steve's blood pressure but it's great for plot!

So Billy IS the Mind Flayer. That means that Billy is dead. Good. Now can we kill the Mind Flayer?

[holykillercake]

FRIED EGGS

KOBY x Pirate!Reader

word count: 2k

summary: Being infiltrated as a Marine and keeping your feelings under control was easy until you were assigned to work with Marine Captain Koby. How you wished he was a jerk.

highlight: ¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨

warnings: read under the risk of developing diabetes.

notes: Hey, guys! This was a lovely request from @pure-kirarin! <3 I had to stop other projects to make this one because Koby threw me out of my comfort zone hahaha I really hope you like!! ALSO 1) Happy Birthday Sabo-kun! ALSO 2) In order to add more dept to the story, the main character is part of a Yonkos´crew, but I wrote in a way that all fit, so choose your favorite! ALSO 3) ART ALERT!

Leave comments, hearts and love!

¨You have been doing a remarkable job in such little time, Commander L/N. We all have great expectations regarding your transference to our Marine Headquarters.¨ 

The words of the Rear Admiral barely scratched your mind as you discreetly observed the pink-haired boy´s reflection on the crystal clear window. 

He maintained a similar posture to yours: chin up, chest out, shoulders back, and stomach in. However, while your fingers remained paralleled to your trousers, you took a glimpse of his clenched fist, thumb fidgeting the side of his index finger. 

¨Vice Admiral Tsuru was reluctant to sign your transfer. She said you remind her of herself in the past, which is always an excellent compliment to hear.¨ you nodded, acknowledging his words  ¨We´re glad we convinced her.¨

Your heart warmed with his words, and you almost felt bad because you knew the disappointing outcome O-Tsuru-san would have at the end of this. She trained you with the iron face of a merciless soldier, and the elegance that resembled the animal of her name.

It has been three years since you received the green card from your captain to part ways in a long-term solo mission. A journey to excavate the putrid secrets of the so-called defenders of the law. You learned after a short time that justice is not so black and white.

Not that you planned to reveal the dirt, no. That intel your captain could sell to the Revolutionary Army and keep the capital running. You were interested in the arms race, the corrupt diplomacy, and more importantly, the dark pipes where traitors flowed.

Someone from inside the Yonkos was feeding the Marines with crucial information about the Emperors´ activities. And in such a close fight, you could not take those risks.

All other Emperors must have their own undercover agents within the Marines, but even that was a dispute. You could point some names to your boss, who confirmed what was suspected. Those would usually be the best of the best, extravagant and loud.

But not you. You didn't have to make that much noise. You slid between the floors of New Marineford like a snake swimming with the current. Earning the respect of your superiors and being promoted without ringing any bells. You accepted each medal with a firm salutation and relentless performance. 

¨The trip must have been displeasing. Submerging ten thousand meters underwater and rising to these fiendish waters require a good rest. Our Marine Captain Koby will escort you to your quarters, Commander Y/N. The remaining instructions shall be presented tomorrow.¨

You saluted the Rear Admiral in front of you and turned to the exit, passing by Koby, who waited for you to leave first.  When your paths crossed, the pace of your heartbeats quickened, pumping more blood through your body and leaving a burning sensation on your cheeks. 

The involuntary response was instantly interpreted as alertness to danger, which needed to be handled with caution. 

Can´t let my guard down around this one, you thought.

In fact, you planned to keep as much distance as you could from him. An officer let slip that he has been gaining incredible control over his Observation Haki since the Paramount War. 

But the wind seemed to change direction, and you began to swim against the current. When the morning came, you were assigned to be his partner for an undetermined time, and he would act as your superior. The idea of being bossed around by a younger marine got your temper sparked. 

Only he was not like the others, treating you in a patronizing and condescending way. He spoke to you with the same cordiality and politeness he addressed everybody else. 

Slowly, your concrete cold expression began to soothe. You would still remind yourself how annoying his good manners were, though. So annoying, seriously!

¨Good morning, Y/N-san!¨ he greeted as you joined him for breakfast. 

¨Good morning, Koby.¨ 

¨Our Border Force correspondent sent his report early in the morning with information about possible Yonkos´ alliances in the Wano Country. We are arranging a meeting as soon as possible.¨ 

You didn´t like to handle work so early, but this subject, in particular, raised your spirits. ¨Good. It was about time.¨

You noticed that he wore a different headband. ¨What happened?¨ 

¨Hm?¨ he brought the soup bowl close to his mouth. 

¨The bandana. Green, with the fried eggs.¨ he choked on the miso soup, coughing like he had swallowed poison. 

You reached for a paper tissue and handed it to him. ¨K-Koby, are you ok?¨

¨Y-Y/N... Y/N-san...¨ he coughed some more ¨They´re not... fried eggs...¨

¨Oh...¨ your brows raised slightly ¨What are they?¨

A depressive aura grew around him ¨They are flowers, YN-san...¨

The edge of your lips contorted as you tried to hide a smile. You haven´t felt like smiling genuinely for years. Annoying boy!

From that moment on, ignoring him became more difficult. He started to ask you to train with him or invite you to spend some time with him and Helmeppo whenever you had free time. Eventually, he began to ask you how he looked before an important meeting. 

Most of the time, you would reply something like ¨ok¨. But sometimes, the mouth was quicker than the brain, and you would let an ¨impeccable¨ slip out, followed by an awkward throat clearing and blushed cheeks. 

From both sides.

•

¨Oh my-¨ you stopped yourself from finishing the sentence. 

You were chosen to complete this mission due to your excellent skills in hiding emotions and acting calm under stressful situations. No one could break you. 

Within the Marines, no joke could make you crack a smile, and no torture could make you spill secrets. 

Why did you want to ask if he was ok?

Koby had entered his office with bumps and bloody bruises over his face. His always neat uniform was blotchy, and he carried a first aid kit. 

¨Garp-san paid a visit.¨ He sat on the couch and opened the white box, throwing everything on the coffee table. ¨I bet it wasn't like this with Tsuru-san.¨ he chuckled. 

¨No. She would beat me up, wash me and hang me up to dry.¨ 

You shot from the chair, moving towards the clumsy pinkette, who struggled to attend to his injuries. He tried to hold the mirror with one hand and suture his gash with the other. 

¨Thank yo-¨

¨Shh. Don´t move.¨

You leaned closer to have a better look, giving Koby the same chance. Your delicate perfume smelled like it was tailor-made for you. Your breathing was slightly irregular, and your lip twitched with every given stitch. Your fingers felt like feathers on his skin, so much that he didn´t even feel a sting. 

The job was fast and efficient, making Koby wish Garp had put more effort into his Love Fist. Grabbing a piece of wet cotton, you cleaned the dried blood.  

¨Alright...¨ you whispered.

¨Alright...¨ he whispered back.

You were inches apart from his face, your eyes traveling across the scar on his forehead, the pink locks, and kind features. Your mind traced back all the way to the Paramount War. You had very little knowledge about him, but the words he spoke that day have always made your heart pound like cannonballs. 

You will make an excellent Admiral one day, Koby. 

I hope you don´t hate me. 

¨Y-Y/N-san...¨

¨Hm?¨

¨Your smile is beautiful.¨

¨What?¨ The stupid scene of yours was interrupted like a DJ stopping the record player. 

With cheeks getting pinker than his hair, you shot up and marched back to the chair and your newspaper. ¨You clean this up.¨ 

He left a low chuckle out and began gathering the mess. 

Oh, no, Y/N. You have got to be kidding me. 

He is a freaking marine. Breathe. 

There were a vast number of reasons why you couldn´t like him: from him being a Marine Captain and you being a pirate to the fact that your mission was coming to a conclusion.

Meaning that your journey as his partner would be very soon reaching its end. The meeting with this mysterious correspondent regarding the Yonkos´ operations in the New World would be the last move in this chess game. You would be going home. Mission completed. Everything perfect, right? 

Right, perfect. Impeccable! Ugh!

•

¨... confirm secure line.¨

¨This is Border Officer code 404890. Secure line confirmed.¨ you spoke with a low but clear voice through the nail transponder. 

¨What´s the status on our birdie?¨

¨Positive. The birdie is located at 03:24:01.¨ you gave your boss a coordinate to the name of the Marine informant. The answer you took three years to find out remained on file number one, third page, suspect number twenty-four. 

An amused laugh echoed on your end, and you buried the speaker on your jacket to muffled the sound. 

¨At least he is not one of ours.¨ a chuckle ¨Great job, Y/N.¨

¨Thank you, boss.¨

¨I know this mustn't have been easy, but you were impeccable as always.¨

Yeah, impeccable. 

¨You know the protocol now. We´ll see each other in a few days. You´ll have a party waiting for you, kid.¨

¨Aye, aye, boss. But I want the good booze.¨  Both of you laughed. 

You finished the call, and the smile on your lips died as the image of a pink-haired boy invaded your mind. You wished he was a jerk like everybody else. 

It would have been so easy. 

¨Who were you talking to?¨ your chest contracted, pushing the air out of your lungs and sending extra blood supply to your muscles. 

You hid the transponder into your jacket and turned, facing your Marine Captain. 

¨Eavesdropping, Koby?¨

What should I do?

¨Y/N-san, who were you talking to?¨ he repeated himself, offering the benefit of the doubt. You sighed.

¨My captain.¨ 

Why the need to be honest with him?

¨Y/N-san, please don´t tell me-¨

¨I´m sorry, Koby. I wish I didn´t have to do this.¨ you couldn´t bring yourself to face him.

¨A-Are you a pirate? Why?¨

You chuckled ¨Why am I a pirate?¨

¨Why did you do this?¨ his face was pale, making your guts twitch in guilt.

¨I´m on a mission. But I´ll leave soon.¨

¨You are like... Vergo-san.¨ he sounded disappointed.

¨I am nothing like Vergo. You know this.¨ or at least you hoped he did. 

He closed the door slowly, eyes fixed on your figure. The bright light from the window made him look like an ethereal painting.

While you tried to predict his next move, whether he was going to interrogate you or kick your ass, Koby acted calm and collected, not hesitating. He trusted his Observation Haki to guide his next move. Or maybe his heart.

You saw a pink blur closing distance like a missile, and before you could dodge, his hands pulled you by the waist, connecting your bodies and lips. 

He forced your back to meet the thick window with a gasp that was muffled by the kiss. His touch was rough upon the fabric of your uniform, but his mouth felt soft against yours.

Your hands moved to his hair, removing the round pair of glasses and the green bandana so you could get lost in his locks. His grip was harsh under the fabric of your uniform, but his hair felt soft on your fingertips. 

A moan escaped your lips when he parted the kiss with a loud snap and struck the glass with both hands, keeping you trapped in the middle. You let go of his hair and grabbed him by the collar, not letting him go away.

¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨ his breath was heavy and carried with a myriad of emotions. 

¨I know... I am sorry.¨

¨Why?¨

¨Because I like you, Koby. A lot.¨ he paused for a second, fighting the urge to admit the same.

¨What was your mission?¨

This is the last lie, I promise, Koby. ¨The Marines possessed vital information about something my boss wants. I needed to get it.¨

¨Now that I know that you´re a pirate and that you stole Marine´s assets, I´m gonna have to hunt you down.¨

¨I´ll be waiting for you.¨ 

You stared him in the eyes, and he kissed you to stop himself from saying what he really wanted. 

I love you, Y/N-san.

Diary of Koby-Meppo: The Fried Egg Life Crisis.

💕 @vemuabhi

[londonskies]

DON’T SAY THE S WORD!!

https://images.app.goo.gl/JKKNVtwZNGAVVwzB9

In which Corpse has a secret girlfriend and his insomnia is driving them both up the wall, putting precious Sykkuno in danger because he said the word “Sleep”. 

Hi! This is just a once in a blue moon, feel good, fluff fic cause I have commitment issues on my writing lol. 

Yes, my writing style is long winded, I’m really sorry, but I hope you enjoy it! 

credits to  u/balderdash_lee on reddit

Corpse had not slept for close to 50 hours by the time that they had started their latest month prior pre-planned plasmophobia session with Rae, Sykkunno and Toast, but it was like he was hyped up on sugar for the last hour or so and Y/n was really beginning to get worried. 

This was a tattletale sign of the huge crash her boyfriend was about to go through, and yet the stubborn man just would not step away from his computer.

She had tried everything, from luring him with pizza (to which he had snatched a few slices and had just retreated to his gaming room once more) to telling him that there was a fire in the kitchen (to which he replied was virtually impossible given how meticulous Y/n was in the kitchen) to faking an injury (which corpse called bullshit on without even looking at her).

It was getting really frustrating and she knew for a fact that the longer her boyfriend was going to wait this out, the worse he was going to feel.

And the worse he was going to act. 

He would never hurt anyone, ever. The man was the definition of a soft boi beyond his brain meltingly amazing voice. But when he was beyond bone dead tired like he was right now, he had the tendency to act mean, and the only person who had the capability of calming him down in the middle of the pandemic was Y/n, and she would have to hijack his stream. 

The stream that was filled with hundreds of thousands of people who didn’t even know that their precious Corpse was in a relationship with anyone. 

Would she have the chance to mute him before he went on his tired, angry, borderline crazy monologue? She would try, but probably not. 

Y/n had to bring out the big guns. 

Rae and Toast were pretty easy people to conspire with and were almost always down to do pranks and other shit that Y/n came up with, and always, always down to do whatever it took to get Corpse to take care of himself. 

Sykkuno though, bless him, the cutest, most clueless person Y/n had ever met. 

He was always very concerned for Corpse’s health but was the worst at going incognito. So Rae and Toast were the ones who used their code word (lights out) and had always been the ones who had the role of making sure Sykkuno knew what to do. 

“Aaaaaaaaaaanddd, lights out baby!” Rae screamed as she made her way past Sykkuno at the entrance of the house they were in at the moment, but Sykkuno, the precious little boy that he is, just watched Rae with a bewildered face, getting even more confused when Toast made his way past him as well, whispering “Lights out.” and moving back to the truck in the game. 

From inside, Corpse’s character was busy laughing at a joke he made about a picture in the wall and had not noticed the other two missing. He did notice though, when Sykkuno appeared near him to ask him what was up before convulsing and dropping to the floor. 

Corpse’s laugh was noticeably more manic now, getting a lot more high pitched and erratic. For a second, Sykkuno laughed with him, then when Corpse’s went on for too long, suddenly looked confused on his stream, turning to face the general vicinity he Corpse’s character was. 

So he spoke through their always open discord chat. “Uhh, Corpse? You okay there buddy?” 

The stubborn man just kept laughing, Y/n increasingly getting concerned as she watched all 4 player’s streams on different devices one room over. Rae and Toast were chatting about the pills in the truck, so as to not alarm Corpse of the lowkey distraction they were doing to finish the game easy (aka getting at least 3 of them killed), and then giving excuses to stop streaming and giving Y/n a chance to haul his ass to bed. 

Sykkuno on the other hand, was now (against all plans spoken about prior) continuing to talk to Corpse. 

“Corpse?” the timid man spoke once more, finally reaching the ever more manic Corpse. 

All of a sudden, an eerie silence fell around the two of them, settling for a few seconds before getting filled by a flat “Yea?” from Corpse. 

Y/n could almost hear the sentence that Sy would reply to that, and at that moment, she knew, they were fucked. 

With a quick “Fuckin shite” to both Rae and Toast’s chat, Y/n bounded over to Corpse’s office, hearing tail end of the question that was about to make Corpse’s brain go kaboom. 

“You sound tired man, maybe you should sleep for a bit?” 

She knew he only meant good. Sykkuno was just one of those guys that would never want to hurt anyone. She knew it, Corpse knew it, everyone knew it. 

But her secret boyfriend was sleep deprived and going batshit crazy because of it, and currently, his trigger word was the word Sleep.

Y/n would give poor Sy a viking funeral if she can’t stop this.

“I am not tire-” Corpse was pretty intimidating when he wanted to be, and I knew that that low voice of his would scare every single hitman in a 1000 mile radius when used in a booming, angry way. And the way his voice was escalating was sure to end in said booming, angry way.

Y/n sprinted into his recording room, only partially wincing at the horridly loud bang the door made when she wrenched it open to fling herself at her boyfriend. The world seemed to slow as she soared through the air, uncaring if she knocked things out of the way. 

Gotta make sure their baby Sy would never be at that end of Corpse’s fury. 

She partially landed on his lap, torso hanging off the side. It hurt as her ribs made contact on the armrest of his computer chair, but it stopped his tirade with a surprised “Ooof!” and knocked him away from his PC.

“Honey!! Don’t yell at Sy!” 

“Y/n???”

Oh shit. 

Of course Sykkuno had to yell out her name during a stream. She had bet Toast 200 dollars that Sy would be the one to drop her name, and it was high time she cashed in. 

Y/n fixed herself on Corpse’s lap, shoving his headphones off of him and forcing him into a hug. Of course he protested, but eventually relaxed in her grip, muttering about how his eyes and wrists hurt now but he promised to play with the OTV peeps and his insomnia hit him too hard these past few days. 

“Baby,” he whispered hoarsely, his grip tightening on her as well. It only took a moment for Y/n to realize that her boyfriend was shaking, trying not to fall apart. “It hurts.” 

She ran her fingers through his hair, putting a kiss on the top of his head as he relaxed even more. They had to move to a more comfortable space soon or else Corpse would fall asleep here and she would have to move him (which at 5 feet, is not very easy.) but he was relaxing and Y/n couldn’t make herself distract him from that. 

“I know babe, it’s okay. We’ll breathe through it. You can do it, I know you can.” Corpse would never fess up to crying, but the growing patch of tears on her sweater was evidence of the amount of pain that he was experiencing. 

His dedication was amazing, but a lot of the time he sacrificed his health for it. So as much as she didn’t want to hold him back, sometimes she really just had to step in and meddle to save him from himself.

They stayed like that for a while, Y/n occasionally having to coach him through his breathing, but overall, they were doing fine. 

Y/n smiled into his hair when he finally stopped shaking. “That’s it babe, you’re doing amazing.” she whispered, moving to get off his lap. She wasn’t the lightest person despite her shortness, her curves never letting her be skinny, so she was sure that her sitting on his lap was making his legs go numb. Corpse, on the other hand, only held on tighter, basically turning into a koala at this point. 

“Corpse, Honey, your legs are gonna go numb, babe.” she giggled. She tried to put him at arm’s length, but her apparently octopus boyfriend had planned to never let her go. 

“No.” he mumbled, pressing his face ever tighter into her sweater, making her giggle, in turn, making him smile. 

Eventually, he detached his face from her sweater and peeked up at his girlfriend, the visual of his tousled hair, pout, one sparkling eye and the other now only partially covered by his falling eyepatch, but both with smudged eyeliner and mirth, made her melt.  “Don’t go, please?” Y/n giggled at him. “I’m not gonna leave babe, I just gotta get off your lap before I make your legs undergo hypoxia.” 

“I’d let them cut off my legs if it meant having you here forever.” if she hadn’t already fallen in love with this man, she would say that this was the moment that she fell in love with him. But falling in love with him over and over again was probably something that she would never stop doing, even if Corpse ever decided to not love her back one day. 

They were jolted out of their happy little bubble when they heard a loud screech coming from his headphones making a sound more akin to blasting speakers than headphones, which had apparently fallen just beside them on the table instead of the floor like Y/n anticipated. “STOP YOUR LOVING AND GO TO SLEEP CORPSE!” Rae screeched, making the both of them laugh out loud, but one look at his screen stopped them at their tracks.

Corpse was miraculously still alive in game, Rae’s character moving back and forth in front of his. 

Rae… was streaming, right? 

Oh shit numero dos. 

One look at the chat showed that they had just outed themselves. The sappy couple making everyone watching go absolutely bonkers at the chat. 

“WHO IS THAT?” -ijustlovemakingsounds

“HONEY???? BABE?????” - corpseybae

“WHAT IS HAPPENING??” -randomuser

“IS CORPSE OKAY?” -ShinigamiEyes

“CORPSE??” -corpsekkuno28

“BABY?????” -honestlywtf

“HE’S SO SWEET OMGOMGOMGOMG!!!!!!!” -cutiepiecorpsey

“WAIT WAIT WAIT IS HE OKAY????” -omgilovehim

“WHO THE HECK??” -wifeyyyycorpse

Both parties were staring wide eyed at the screens. Even with slow mode on, the chat was going a hundred miles per hour and all they were seeing were screaming chats in all caps zooming up. 

For a second Y/n just kept staring quietly, and then the first giggle escaped her and soon, both of them were a giggling pile of sweaters and limbs on Corpse’s computer chair, not even trying to stop their antics. Rae screamed another “YOU’RE BOTH CUTE AND WE ALL KNOW IT STOP AND SLEEP!!” 

The laughter seemed endless. 

It was the sound of Y/n’s phone ringing from the other room that finally got her up from the warm confines of Corpse’s lap. But before she left, she was going to make sure that Corpse was not just going to continue streaming in her absence. 

“Sooo….” Y/n turned them over so that she was facing the screen and not him, talking directly into the mic as she scrambled for the headphones she had shoved off of his head. “Yes Corpse Husband has a Corpse wife and she’s now taking him back to their coffins because the hubby is a stubborn piece of shit and has not slept in more than 50 hours.” 

The casual information drop made the chat go even crazier, people now freaking out about her, trying to find out who she was, what she did, when and where they met, stuff like that. “I’ll see what I can do to answer your questions, you simps. But I gotta knock him out for now, and I promise you won’t be left hanging.” 

She felt him wrap his arms around her waist once more, feeling him press his face tightly against her back. “Baby,” he started to say, but Y/n cut him off with a few pats to wherever she could reach behind her.

“Sorry, but the jackass is now cut off from the mic and shall be cut off until he sleeps, so I shall be the one to say, good day to you sirs and madams, he shall see you on the next one! Bye!!!!” 

Then a pause, and a quietly frustrated “Hun, how do you turn it off??”

The chat was flooded with variations of “She’s so cute!!” and as tempted as he was to keep it going for a bit, he knew that it would upset and worry his adorable girlfriend to do so. 

So from his vantage point, he just mumbled a quick “Bye!” before cutting off stream. Normally, he would stay and read superchats and see how many new members he had gained, but this time, his tiny, but determined girlfriend was dead set on getting him to chill his ass out. 

And he let you.

He watched as you dragged him off to bed, tucking him in all the fluffy blankets you’d gotten for his comfort, smiled as you eagerly burrowed yourself under the fluff with him, sighed contentedly as your warmth surrounded him as you cuddled into him. 

He basked in your presence as he held you back just as tight, feeling you plant a kiss in his hair and smile as he relaxed ever more. From across the room, the mirror reflected the image of the two of you, touching the deepest recesses of the soul he would never claim to have. 

And as he drifted off, he watched as you glowed in the streaks of the fading afternoon sun, peeking through their heavy curtains, he thought:

What more was there to ask for? 

[kentochronicles]

***SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 5 OF WANDAVISION***

HOLY SHITE MY MIND IS BLOWN

TOMMY AND BILLY CRYING

“Do you want me to take that again?” “Take it from the top?”

Agnes knows ! Tiger - Ralph

“Dark liquor” Vision being concerned

Billy and Tommy aged up?!

I DO NOT TRUST HAYWARD

SCARLET WITCH - TALKING ABOUT HOW WANDA DOESN’T HAVE A CODENAME

SIS STRAIGHT UP TOOK VISIONS CORPSE

HEX — HER POWERS GET REFERRED TO AS HEX POWERS SOMETIMES IN THE COMICS

CAPTAIN MARVEL REFERENCE

NORM SAYING NONE OF IT IS REAL

SPARKY THE DOG - VISION HAD A STAND ALONE AND STOLE A DOG

HER ACCENT

LAGOS

SHE DOESNT KNOW HOW ANY OF THIS STARTED IN THE FIRST PLACE

EVAN PETERS AS QUICKSILVER

DARCY GOING “SHE RECAST PIETRO?” MOOOD

X-MEN, START TO THE MULTIVERSE?!

WANDA CAN’T BE THE ONLY ONE CONTROLLING IT

IS MONICA MAD AT CAROL???

MONICA X DARCY?! WHAT A POWER COUPLE THAT WOULD BE

SIS REALLY ENDGAME - ENDGAME ENDED WITH TONY’S FUNERAL AND WANDA PROBS WENT STRAIGHT FROM THERE AND STOLE HER DEAD BF’S CORPSE (can’t really blame her, it looked like they were trying to experiment on Vis and could it be Hayward behind it?)

WHO WAS THAT ENGINEER THAT MONICA WAS GOING TO CONTACT?

BABY VISION

AND AGNES DEFINITELY KNOWS SOMETHING

DARCY FINALLY GOT HER COFFEE

SO VIS SAID THAT WANDA COULD’VE MADE EVERYTHING SUBCONSCIOUSLY AND THAT OVER TIME SHE BECAME AWARE OF IT, AND SIS DEFO HAS SOME CONTROL BUT IT’S NOT ALL HER. I THINK AGNES IS AGATHA HARKNESS AND EITHER MEPHISTO IS BEHIND IT OR IT’S NIGHTMARE AND THEY’VE MAYBE POWERED UP NIGHTMARE

***FURTHER UPDATES AND EASTER EGGS***

Auntie Agnes and Agnes saying she has a few tricks up her sleeve - we should definitely take note of that seeing as Agnes definitely has something to do with the whole situation

Wanda and Vision’s house changed again, being inspired by Family Ties, possibly Full House and Growing Pains

“Do you want me to take it from the top?” It seems as though when someone, this time Vision, steers away from the script, things either reset themselves or people become aware to some capacity, although Agnes probably already knows

Speaking of Growing Pains - It had a spin off called “Just the 10 of Us” in which the director for Wandavision, Matt Shakman, was apart of the cast - and seemingly also inspired the theme song for this week

We should definitely keep an eye on Monica and her potential for powers. With Maria last episode revealed to have gone by the name ‘Photon’ (which is a name that Monica uses as one of her aliases in the comics) and could inspire Monica’s name as she develops her powers - those scans didn’t look 100% normal. Monica has also used the Captain Marvel monicker in the comics

Wanda’s energy field and such being referred to as “Hex” short for Hexagon, could be a little nod to the comics where Wanda’s powers are sometimes called Hex powers

She’s never been referred to as the Scarlet Witch on the big screen - and it seems as though she soon may earn that code name

So we now know that Wanda stole Vision’s corpse from S.W.O.R.D, but did she actually re animate him fully? He’s still got the gem in the centre of his forehead, but the last time he had it was in Infinity War where it promptly got ripped out by Thanos - so has Wanda found her own way of reanimating him and he’s alive or is he dead and just a trick of the mind - though from other trailers/previews, Vis is seen trying to and looks successful at leaving Wanda’s barrier

They had a little call back to Captain America: Civil War with the Sokovia Accords, which were targeting the Avengers in general but were created when Wanda lost control of her powers and killed civilians

A little joke towards Vis as playing “Father Knows Best” in their little suburbia - Which was a sitcom that ran for 200 episodes in the 50’s

Sparky ! A little nod to the little green dog from the Walta and King comics run for Vision and unfortunately soon meets the same fate 💔

A little nod to Endgame when we hear from Monica that Wanda definitely could’ve taken down Thanos by herself had Thanos not rained fire - and Jimmy arguing that Captain Marvel could’ve just as easily done it - which leaves Monica with an angry look on her face

Good ol’ dial up internet

Can Vis “save” the residents of Westview? He can still seemingly interact with people’s minds, with or without the mind stone - Norm soon comes out of his trance as Vis snaps him out of it and asks to call his sister and that he has to save them all from “her” - now this “her” could be Wanda...but it could also be Agnes and then Vis shuts him down soon enough again and Norm goes back to his sit com self

Billy and Tommy are fully aware, or at least suspect Wanda’s abilities - after asking her to bring back Sparky from the dead and speaking of Billy and Tommy - could they be semi permanent fixtures in the MCU, it would help to introduce the Young Avengers eventually. They'll do Young Avengers at some point since Kang is supposed to be a thing in the third Ant-Man.

Teddy, unfortunately, I don't think will be here for a bit (I really hope he is though!). I think the guy they hired that everyone is rumoring to be Teddy might just be an episode about Billy coming to terms with his sexuality and Wanda and Vis learning to accept it in the way that era of tv they're in would go about with that kind of episode and the dude is just a dude - but again, I really hope it’s Teddy 😭

Wanda leaves the hex after a mini missile/plane tries to shoot at her - and she’s in her Scarlet Witch costume and is seemingly mostly back to her “normal self”, which includes her accent !

Lagos brand paper towels - “For when you make a mess you didn’t mean to” - a nod to Civil War again in which Wanda accidentally blew up a building in Lagos and caused the Sokovian accords to come to fruition

The mail man again - I also think he was in the commercial but anywho - “Your mom won’t let him go far” similar to “Much like she won’t let anyone leave” a potential nod to Wanda or Agnes not letting anyone leave?

“We can’t reverse death” and yet she brought Vision back - keeping in mind that he’s an android but still a little foreshadow to what happened at the end of the ep? Better yet, could Pietro coming back be a distraction for Wanda? Agnes or whoever introducing someone that Wanda lives in hopes that she won’t go full on breakdown superpowers or just to give her an attachment to Westview even more and make her not want to leave at all

“She recasted Pietro” EVAN ! I’m so pumped for this - it seems this could turn into the X-Men making their debut earlier than expected possibly? In any case, it’s a nice little Easter Egg to the previous Fox franchise of X-Men movies where Evan played Peter Maximoff “Quicksilver” alongside James McAvoy as Prof X, Hugh Jackman as Wolverine and so many others - and with Deadpool being confirmed as Disney’s first R rated film, it seems Mutants are definitely on their way to the MCU

Agnes is definitely Agatha or a gender bent Nightmare

The way Billy shed himself and Tommy up was scary - definitely a little nod to his powers coming in

Multiple different perspectives of Wanda saying that Monica left

Red Hex dialled up to around light sources (computer, window, etc.)

Vision mentions reading Charles Darwin’s The Descent of Man - which could refer to Mutants entering the MCU, Mutants being superior to humans

Agnes calls herself Auntie Agnes - in episode 2 during the title sequence in the grocery store there’s a product called ‘Auntie A’s Kitty Litter’

Agnes refers to herself as a Tiger and in the episode, there’s a Tiger on the dining table in the kitchen - could that be a listening device, her eyes and ears?

There are no other children in Westview - Billy and Tommy are immune because they have no prior trauma

Elizabeth Olsen’s photos are real and slightly altered with Sokovian flags in the background

In the birthday shot of Billy and Tommy, they have ‘1,2,3,4,5’ candles all on one cake

In the holiday photos, Vision goes from Turkey to Easter Bunny, to Santa and progressively gets more unhappy - realising he no longer wants to play along in Wanda’s Hex

During Monica’s callbacks to seeing Wanda’s pain inside her head, we see a new shot of Wanda crying - it looks like it’s around the time she stole Vision’s corpse, as the outfit she’s wearing is very similar, if not the same - could this be an after shot of when she’s trying to bring Vision back?

During the scene where we see the footage of Wanda stealing Vision’s corpse, the S.W.O.R.D logo that appears on the table has 8 stars around the rim of the logo but then has a 9th one in the middle - could this be a little Easter Egg to the nine realms of the Cosmos? And there’s also a map showing Cape Canaveral, could that be where S.W.O.R.D’s headquarters are?

Wanda and Pietro were born in 1989 to Irina and Oleg Maximoff - who were killed in an air raid when the twins were 10. In the comics, Wanda and Pietro were raised by Django and Maria Maximoff, before their true parentage was revealed as being the children of Magneto, however, in the comics this has been retconned so that Wanda and Pietro are no longer Mutants and the High Evolutionary had just disguised them as Mutants (something I think they should undo tbh - MARVEL, PLEASE MAKE WANDA AND PIETRO MUTANTS AGAIN!!!)

Speaking of the air raid, that was also referenced in Age of Ultron by Pietro and Wanda - “We were 10 years old, having dinner the four of us. And the first shell hits 2 floors below, makes a hole in the floor” - was the beeping Stark toaster be what that was referring to?

WHIH reappears for a brief cameo as the news service in the MCU - and Hayward cuts off Jimmy as he was trying to defend Wanda’s reputation, in which Jimmy then turns to Darcy and says “I try not to speak ill of people” Darcy then follows up with “Then allow me, Hayward’s a-“ and then she’s cut off by a shot back to Hayward saying the word “Terrorist” which would make sense as it seems with Vision’s corpse, he may have been trying to make sentient weapons and by subverting Vision’s will and blaming Wanda of doing the same. In the footage shown of Wanda stealing Vision’s remains, we see Vision broken up into parts and S.W.O.R.D seems to be experimenting on him and this seems to be the robotics/nanotech project that Hayward was referring to. Monica asks Hayward about the footage saying “When was this?” to which Hayward replies saying “9 days ago. Maximoff stormed our facility, stole Vision’s body and resurrected him” - this would mean that Wanda took Vision 2 weeks after the events of Endgame, about a week before Monica returned to S.W.O.R.D and Hayward didn’t tell her any of this and when he sent her in there, he knew exactly what he was doing - with her reputation after Civil War, this makes it easier for Hayward to paint her as the villain.

Back in Westview, Tommy wears red and Billy wears green - which are the colours that Wiccan and Speed wear in the comics, respectively. And it’s also the colours that Wanda and Vision are known for and appears quite a lot in their wardrobes

More in regards to Sparky, he was the synthezoid dog in Tom King’s run of Vision - the story being that he was originally a dog named Zeke who unfortunately passed away after digging up the Grim Reaper’s corpse and getting zapped. The Grim Reaper’s helmet appears during the title sequence of Episode 2 in the floorboards. Could Sparky have been trying to dig up a similar thing when he was caught by Agnes and consequently killed?

Monica mentions that she knows this aerospace engineer, they’re never shown but she is seen texting them. Could it be Reed Richards a.k.a Mr Fantastic? Hayward did mention that some astronauts used to work for S.W.O.R.D before a mission went haywire - though it seems a bit lacklustre to introduce such highly anticipated characters this way. Could it instead be the Skrull daughter of Talos that Monica befriended at the end of Captain Marvel? She mentioned that they had extraterrestrial allies in episode 4 working with her and Fury as apart of S.W.O.R.D - in the Spanish subtitles they use the feminine articles for this engineer - so I think it’s more likely to be Talos’s daughter

The board that we saw in Episode 4 now includes the mailman, drivers license and all - could he be Jimmy’s missing witness?

The tension in the room after Jimmy references Carol is similarly seen when in Spider-Man: Far From Home, where Peter asks Skrull Fury/Talos “How about Captain Marvel?” To which Talos replies “Don’t involve her name”. Fury, Monica and Talos were all on the side of the Skrulls by then end of Captain Marvel and the space station that Fury was on maybe apart of S.W.O.R.D. So did Carol betray them?

A slight reference to Captain America: The First Avenger is made when Monica pulls a Peggy Carter and shoots at something to see if it’s bulletproof, in Peggy’s case it was the iconic Captain America shield and in the case of Monica, it was her clothes that she was wearing after Wanda threw her out of the Hex

Abilash (Norm) never states that Wanda is the one that Vision has to save them from, it’s just “her” - could this instead be Agnes?

When Billy is training Sparky to sit, he puts the treat by his ear up to his temple - a future reference that Billy will one day share the same powers as his mum?

During the scene in which Wanda leaves the Hex briefly, she turns the guns onto Hayward but none are trained on Monica - she may still trust Monica slightly, whereas with Hayward, she slightly more pissed off because of what he was doing to Vision’s remains. And turning a bunch of guns on the people you don’t trust? Like father, like daughter as Magneto pulls a similar move in one of the X-Men films - Hopefully, the big cameo they keep teasing will be Ian McKellan as Magneto or the Magnus of this House of M adaptation

During when Agnes “found” Sparky, she says he died from eating too many leaves from her plants - in the Tom King Vision run, one of Vision’s kids ends up killing Sparky and sees inside his stomach that there’s a plant that Agatha Harkness grows in her garden

All the names that appear during the credits that Wanda tries to run to end the show and to stop Vision from talking are names of people who work on the actual Wandavision show itself

When Evan Peter’s version of Quicksilver shows up, he says “Does a long lost bro get to squeeze his sister to death or what?” I DO NOT TRUST THIS PIETRO - Similar to Wandavision, the Fox X-Men movies moved up decade by decade - First Class was in the 1960s, Days of Future Past was in the 1970s, Apocalypse was in the 1980s and Dark Phoenix was in the 1990’s - which would make even more sense as MCU! Pietro wasn’t born until 1989, whereas Peter was active during the 1980s. I reckon that this Pietro is Jimmy’s missing witness, Agnes’s husband Ralph and is disguising itself as a comforting presence to Wanda as Vision no longer brings comfort and is trying to bring Wanda back to reality - and when he shows up, the mirror in the background behind Wanda is slightly distorted but his hand looks red and in the shot as well, there seems to be a grey arm reaching towards Pietro - in the shot itself behind and in front of Wanda, there’s nothing there but in the mirror, there is! Either way, I do not trust this Pietro and it’s just an entity trying to give Wanda the last thing that could make her happy - but it won’t last, as everything is already breaking down around her.

I seriously seriously love this show so much 💙

[master-sass-blast]

This Life is Infinite: Chapter One.

OH YEAH. IT'S TIME, BITCHES!!!

Summary: The Infinity War Fic aka I do whatever the fuck I want with the Russo's canon.

Get ready for the most ambitious crossover in CHC history.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, Alexandra Rasputin x Nikolai Rasputin, and Kitty Pryde x Illyana Rasputin.

Rating: M for canon typical violence and death threats.

Word Count: 10k... oops.

Set after "Children of the Gods: Part Three."

Author's Note: Tentatively, I’m back from my hiatus. Things are nowhere near settled with my mental health, but I’m feeling well enough to post again.

I think it mostly goes without saying that updates for this series might be a little irregular going forward; not only do I need to take care of myself, but I also need to find a better balance with posting fanfiction and the rest of my life. As always, I will do my best to be clear with you all about what to expect in terms of updates and wait times.

Thank you again for your compassion and understanding.

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @leo-writer, @emma-frxst, @sadstone-s

It’s not every day that mysterious, leather-clad men appear –quite literally, considering they teleported in—in your kitchen unannounced.

(Okay, perhaps they don’t qualify as “mysterious” when one of them is your dad, one of them is your brother, and the third is your uncle, but there’s a fourth man with them that you don’t recognize, so you like to think that the principle of the expression remains intact.)

You glance between Nate, Wade, your uncle, and the aforementioned unrecognized fourth man, then lift the box of cereal you’d been pouring into a bowl by way of greeting. “Breakfast?”

***

(The fourth man, as it turns out, goes by the code name “Kronos” –which, in terms of super cool code names, ranks at about an eight.)

“There’s a war coming,” Nate explains while the four of you stand around your kitchen counter. “Apocalypse is stirring. He’ll be sending his allies to Earth to initiate the first stage of the war, so that he’ll encounter less resistance when he comes to rule.”

“‘s called ‘The Decimation,’” Wade interjects as he shovels spoonfuls of Lucky Charms into his mouth. He points at his bowl, then jerks his head at the fridge. “D’ y’all have chocolate syrup?”

“Yeah, second shelf on the door.” You take another bite of your cereal, swallow, then ask Nathan, “What… what happens with ‘The Decimation?’”

“One of Apocalypse’s allies, Thanos, will arrive with his armies and generals. He’ll use his own forces to annihilate the heroes of Earth, then he’ll finish assembling the Infinity Stones and gauntlet and use them to wipe out half of all life across the cosmos.”

You purse your lips together and eye your dad warily. “If… if this was anyone other than you saying this, I’d say this all sounds like a hackneyed comic book and-or movie plot.”

“His information checks out,” Kronos says, voice low and gravelly. “Our cross-temporal intel confirms communications between Apocalypse and Thanos. We might have a few weeks to prepare for Thanos’s arrival –and that’s if we’re lucky.”

Wade snorts and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “handwavey bullshit” under his breath.

You look to your uncle. “And you’re here because…”

“Need to talk to Xavier,” your uncle answers, “and then alert the Avengers and anyone else that can help us face Thanos.”

“Right,” you say slowly. “And you stopped here first because…”

“I was hungry,” Wade blurts as he drizzles more chocolate syrup on top of his cereal.

“You have credibility,” Nathan says while shooting Wade an equally annoyed and endeared look. “Xavier and Piotr listen to you, and the rest of the X-Men listen to them. We can’t afford to deal with a bunch of hesitating and infighting right now. We need to get our shit together and defeat Thanos, or the world as we know it is fucked.”

“Question.” Wade lifts his spoon. “Does Donald Trump die in this decimation bullshit?”

“We’ll deal with him later,” your uncle stage-whispers to Wade.

“If you’re all sure…” You wait for all four of them to nod, then sigh and shrug. “Alright. I think most of the X-Men are training right now. Let’s go talk to them.”

***

“This all sounds fucking insane.”

Wade gasps. The eyes on his mask widen as he lifts a gloved hand to where his mouth is under his mask. “James Doohan used a no-no word! My goodness gracious golly!”

Scott Summers scowls, but otherwise ignores Wade. He turns to the Professor, expression incredulous. “Do you believe… any of this?”

Xavier grimaces. “Our sources through Kronos” –he gestures to your uncle’s colleague—“have been confirming the intentions of Apocalypse for several years now. The difficulty was always in determining when Apocalypse would act, and in which timeline –though, now that we have Cable’s intel, we’ve been able to figure those two details out.”

“If Thanos is as powerful as you’re saying,” Ororo pipes up, looking at Nathan, “then how are we supposed to defeat him?”

“Any way we can,” Nathan fires back, expression grim.

“Our intel says that Thanos only has three of the six Infinity Stones, along with the gauntlet,” Kronos adds. “If we can keep the last three stones out of his hands and defeat his armies here on Earth, we’ll have better odds of facing Apocalypse down the road.”

“Right,” Jean says. “And where are the last three stones?”

“The Mind Stone is in the possession of Vision, an android created by Ultron, who now works with the Avengers,” Kronos explains. “The Time Stone is in the possession of Doctor Stephen Strange, who leads an order of sorcerers and magic users in New York. The Soul Stone… has yet to be located.”

“And we’re sure that Thanos is coming here?” Ororo asks, brows raised in skepticism.

“One of the unifying features across the pertinent timelines is a battle that takes place on Earth, specifically in the country of Wakanda,” Kronos answers. “Regardless of the other features in the timeline, there is always a major confrontation between Thanos and the forces of earth there.”

“Great,” Rogue deadpans, expression flat. “Now we just have to convince them to let us in. ‘Excuse me, your Majesty T’Challa, but there’s an evil spaceman that is collecting all powerful rhinestones and he’s going to come here to try and wipe out half of all life on Earth, so we need you to let us into your country with strict visitation policies to we can help you fight him.’ Yeah, that’ll go over real well.”

“We don’t have time to waste on sarcastic bullshit,” Nathan grits out, cybernetic eye flaring as he glares at Rogue. “We’ll handle getting the Avengers and Wakanda on board,” he says, turning to the Professor. “I take it we can trust you to get your team and Magneto collected?”

“I’ll contact Erik,” Xavier promises before looking over at your husband. “Piotr, would you mind calling your family? I believe, given the severity of the coming conflict, having as many hands as possible would be in our best interests.”

Piotr nods. “Konechno –of course.” He looks up at you from where he’s sitting, confusion clear in his sky blue eyes—

“You good to come with us?” Nathan asks, tapping your shoulder lightly to get your attention. “We’ll need help talking to Stark.”

“Huh? Uh –yeah. Sure.” You look back at Piotr; the request to ask for five minutes, just five minutes, to talk to your husband is on the tip of your tongue—

Nate tugs you –gently—a couple inches closer, then says, “Bodyslide by five.”

The room blurs, then disappears from view.

***

You’ve only bodyslid with Nathan a handful of times –and each time you do, you’re always caught off guard by how fucking weird it feels.

Your stomach lurches like you’ve just gone down the steepest drop on a rollercoaster, even though the ground remains steady beneath your feet. In a flash, there’s a brand new room in front of you –sleek, monochromatic cabinets, white marble countertops, stainless steel appliances and fixtures, the works. The space oozes sophistication, function, style –and money. So much money.

Given everything you’ve heard about Tony Stark, it makes sense.

“Deep breaths,” Nathan says. He places a steadying hand on your shoulder while you blink rapidly. “In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

You do your best to comply –though it’s a bit difficult, given that your brain is shrieking ‘sensory overload’ while trying to adjust to the new lighting, the new sounds, the sensation of having moved without really having moved at all, at least in the sense of walking or riding in a car—

And then alarms start blaring. Red lights flash, klaxons go off, the works.

Wade swears and claps his hands over his ears. “Christ! For a guy who has literal robots that can wipe his ass with dollar bills, you think he’d invest in something a little easier on the ears!”

“Wilson!” The klaxons and red lights cut out, replaced by various whirring noises and the sound of hurried, angry footsteps. “I swear to God, if you’ve hijacked one of my jets again, I’m gonna –who the fuck are all of you?”

Tony Stark looks… nothing like what you see in the papers. Granted, his face and hair look largely the same, but he’s not wearing the crisp, stylish suits that all the magazines, articles, papers, and interviews feature him wearing. He’s got on a worn, holey Metallica shirt, ripped, grease stained jeans, and a pair of scuffed sneakers that look like they might’ve been purchased ten years ago, for all that they’re barely holding together.

The army of security bots hovering and whirring around him, however, do fit his press image.

“Jon Snow!” Wade chirps, waggling his fingers at the harried “genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist.” “Long time, no talk. How’s Daenerys doing?”

“Summers, would you do me a favor and put your psychopath on a leash?” Tony asks, tone less than polite or pleasant as he focuses on Nate. “Preferably a nice short one that’s far away from me?”

“We’re here to talk,” Nathan says –though he does stop Wade from trying to play with the knives in the block on the kitchen counter. “It’s a matter of life and death. The well-being of the entire universe is at stake.”

“Yeah, been there, done that,” Tony says, looking none too impressed.

“One of your colleagues may have mentioned his name,” Kronos interjects, taking a step forward. “Does the word ‘Thanos’ ring any bells?”

Tony’s expression sobers for an instant, but he hides it quickly enough. “This is private property, and you’re all—”

A red being with a green suit and a yellow gem in the center of his forehead emerges from the floor. He places himself between Tony and the rest of you. “Would you like me to escort them out, Mr. Stark?”

“Ah, Casper the Friendly Android with No Concept of Personal Boundaries Despite the Infinite Knowledge!” Wade fires back, waving cheerfully. “How you doing, twenty-twenty?”

Vision sighs, longsuffering. “You have been expressly forbidden from these premises, Mr. Wilson.”

“Unless he’s here under my direct supervision,” Nathan fires back. “Stark, we need to talk about this—”

“Tony?” A tall, elegant woman with red hair wearing a tailored, navy blue dress walks up behind the man in question. She flashes you all a polite smile, but there’s no missing the way her gaze cautiously assesses each one of you. “I’m guessing these aren’t –oh. Wade’s here.”

Wade waves in response. “Hi, Miss Potts! How’s being a CEO?”

“It’s going very well, thank you,” Pepper replies politely –though, this time, she’s scanning the room for missing objects and-or visible damage. When nothing turns up, she looks back at Tony. “Are we escorting them out?”

“They claim to have information about the end of the world,” Tony says, tone flippant –though the grave expression on his face belies his snark. “About Thanos.”

Recognition flashes over Pepper’s face, though her polite mask never fully slips. She nods, then says, “Are we going to listen to them?”

“Probably should,” Tony replies in the same lackadaisical tone. “I’m not turning off the security drones while Wilson’s here, though.”

“Just for that, I’m pissing in your Ficus before I leave,” Wade huffs.

“That seems like it’s for the best,” Pepper tells Tony, smiling going tight at the edges while she stares at Wade. She takes a breath, steeling herself, then steps past Tony and nods at the rest of you in greeting. “Sorry for the confusion. Would you mind coming with us, so we can talk somewhere more comfortable?”

***

“I started connecting the dots after Thor left,” Tony explains, twirling a pencil between his fingers as he paces back and forth. “He mentioned Thanos briefly –but with the destruction and repurposing of Loki’s staff, the straggling records of Dormammu’s attack and the use of the Time Stone by Strange, the roles that the Tesseract and Loki’s staff played in the attack on New York by the Chitauri…” He sighs, pausing to stare out at the window at some unseen object before grimacing and shrugging. “It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

You’re all gathered in a conference room –which, as with the kitchen, carries the same modern, sleek style. Floor to ceiling windows show off the training grounds and the forest that conceals the base from the rest of the world. A massive plasma TV takes up one of the far walls, while the other walls are taken up by various dormant, holographic and electronic displays (made by Stark himself, no doubt). A black, oblong table sits in the center of the room, with leather, silver studded swivel chairs positioned around it.

“How many are there?” Tony asks, looking first at Kronos, then at Nathan. “How much time do we have?”

“There are six Infinity Stones in total,” Kronos says. “Thanos already has three –the Space stone, which was contained by the Tesseract, the Reality stone and the Power stone. Your colleague, Vision—” he gestures to the android “—is in possession of the Mind Stone already, and Stephen Strange has the Time Stone. Our agents have been unable to confirm the whereabouts of the Soul Stone, but we’re certain that Thanos doesn’t have it.”

“Yet,” Tony adds, tone pessimistic.

“As far as time goes, we have a few days at most,” Nathan says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe a week, if we’re lucky.”

Tony grimaces. “That doesn’t bode well for rebuilding international relations on a dime. Or team morale for that matter.”

“Sort it out,” Nathan gravels out. “We’ve got bigger issues.”

“We won’t have time for issues if we can’t even pull a team together,” Tony snaps.

“If it helps…” Kronos withdraws a flash drive from his jacket pocket and holds it out to Tony. “The evidence of Thanos’s collection of the stones and his plans to come here.”

Tony accepts the flash drive. He turns it over in his fingers a couple times –no doubt mentally comparing the drive to the technology he’s created—then pockets it. “And Xavier’s on board with all this?”

You blink when you realize everyone’s staring at you. “Uh –yes. He’s contacting Erik Lensherr for some additional support, and the rest of the X-Men are ready to take on Thanos as well.”

“Great.” Tony stares down at the table for a moment, expression slightly melancholy but otherwise inscrutable, but then he snaps back to his usual self. “Good meeting. I’ll text you with the details.”

“Ooh, does that mean we’re trading numbers?” Wade gasps, pressing his hands on either side of his face. “I’ll put you on my favorites list.”

“I’ll contact Xavier,” Tony amends, shooting Wade a slightly harried look.

“We’ll be ready,” you assure him, at a loss for what else to say as you hook your arm around Wade’s to keep him from messing with the holographic display system.

“Vision will escort you out,” Pepper says with a polite smile and nod.

“I’ll make you a friendship bracelet, Tony the Tiger!” Wade calls as you and Nathan gently usher him towards the door. “Wait –stop shoving me! I need to get his wrist size!”

“Later, gorgeous,” Nate says with a barely suppressed smile.

Under any other circumstances, you’d laugh, but the stony foreboding weighing down your gut makes it too hard to even muster up a chuckle –especially when you catch Tony slumping down into one of the conference room chairs with a despairing expression on his face. You force yourself to focus on getting Wade out of the Avenger’s headquarters without stealing anything –though that does little to calm your swirling thoughts. How in the hell are we gonna pull this off?

***

“Are you okay?”

You sigh, instinctively wriggling back against Piotr’s chest as he lays down behind you. “Define ‘okay.’”

It’s nearly midnight now. Between contacting other allies for help –Nathan had you all bodysliding around New York for the better part of the day to reach out to the Hell’s Kitchen figures—and learning up about Thanos’s army and what could be expected in a confrontation against him, you didn’t get home until well after dinner.

You’re in bed now, too tired for anything else. You stare out the windows that overlook the balcony, purposefully trying to keep your mind blank so you don’t grow overwhelmed by the chaos buzzing in your brain.

Because this is insane. This is beyond mutant trafficking or petty grievances between groups of mutant rivals or even being gunned down by the mafia. This is beyond abusive parents, groups of hateful bigots, or anti-mutant legislators.

It’s –quite literally—the fate of the entire world. The entire galaxy. Based on Nathan’s reports of the future, half of all life is wiped out. People, animals, plants –all gone, dissolved into piles of ash… and for what? So some egomaniac can have his moment of glory?

Your stomach curdles when you even try to contemplate a life without Piotr.

“Hey.” Piotr draws you in close when you start crying. “Tische, myshka. Everything is okay.”

“But it’s not.” You sniff, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “Nothing about this is fucking okay, Piotr. Someone’s gonna wipe out half of the damn universe because he wants to jerk off to it later.”

“He has to go through us, first,” Piotr reminds you as he presses soft, sweet kisses against your cheek.

“We don’t have the numbers,” you point out bleakly. “We don’t have the ammunition. We don’t have the time to make a solid plan, or to prepare any extra defenses, or—”

Piotr hugs you tight. He kisses the top of your head. His hand strokes up and down your arm in an attempt to soothe you.

You grip his other hand, holding him close to you. You focus on how warm and solid he is. How wonderful he is and how lovely your life is with him. “I love you, Piotr.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and cry some more.

***

The call comes in at five thirty in the morning.

“Stark’s brought around the other Avengers and Wakanda,” Nathan says, sounding far more alert than you ever will at this godforsaken hour. “We’re lifting off at seven.”

“Roger that,” you manage while Piotr turns on the bedside lamp and blinks the sleep out of his eyes. “We’ll be ready.” You set down your phone when the call ends, then groan and drop your head into your pillow. Why can’t the end of the world ever happen in the afternoon?

***

The Blackbird jets are loaded to maximum capacity. Aside from carrying the X-Men and the X-Force exclusive members, you’re also ferrying the Hell’s Kitchen vigilantes, Piotr’s family and Allison, your uncle and his team, and the younger children and their parents to Wakanda for safe-keeping (your uncle’s reasoning was that an enemy of the institute might notice the sudden lack of protection and decide to attack the younger, more vulnerable students and their families for vengeance, so it was better to be safe than sorry).

You keep close to Piotr or to the cockpit, but there’s still no avoiding the tense, cramped feeling.

You’re not the only “birds” in the sky, either. It’s practically a whole convoy, flying out to Wakanda in what might’ve been a formation if Wade didn’t occasionally grab the control and try to do a “barrel roll.” Magneto and his forces are flying in their own airship, while the Avengers are leading their pack in Tony’s custom, “cutting edge of technology” jets.

You watch the small fleet of jets that belong to the Avengers, lips pursed into a tight line. Your gaze darts over to the navigation board every few seconds, tracking your miniscule progress across the Atlantic Ocean towards Wakanda.

There’s a heavy sigh behind you, and then an even heavier pair of arms settle around your shoulders. “Myshka. You should rest.”

You “hmm” softly to let Piotr know you heard him, but you don’t step away from the cockpit door.

He kisses the top of head and starts gently rubbing your neck with his thumbs. “Will be several hours before arrival, dorogoy. There is nothing you can do until then.”

“It feels like wasting time,” you murmur back –because, naturally, Piotr’s seen to the heart of the issue already. “We’ve got so much to do.”

“And we can do nothing until we arrive in Wakanda.” Piotr kisses your temple, then gently nudges you away from the cockpit. “Come sit with me, lyublyu. You will need full energy when we land.”

And that, above all else, is the only reason you let Piotr usher you over to the nearest seat.

You crawl into his lap once he sits, curling up in his arms. You lay your head on his shoulder and let his warmth combined with the gentle thrum of the jet’s sonic engines lull you to sleep.

***

Wakanda is simultaneously everything and nothing like what you expected.

There’s a force shield that surrounds the inner part of the country that gives way as the convoy of ships pass through it. It almost seems to shimmer out of view before revealing an elegant, shining palace and curved, glimmering towers that comprise the larger part of the city. Lush jungle and towering, ice-capped mountains border the city, split by a winding river and rushing waterfalls.

It almost looks too beautiful to be real.

The awe-inducing visuals and technology don’t stop as the convoy flies out to a glittering, black glass structure that, on the navigation board, is labeled as the lab of Princess Shuri. The convoy swoops around to a massive hangar at the base of the building, landing just inside on the polished stone and metal floor.

Waiting for all of you in the hangar is King T’Challa Udaku; he’s wearing a black robe embroidered with silver thread and a vibrant kente scarf, and generally looks every bit as poised and unflappable as he did in the UN interviews. He’s flanked by his Dora Milaje soldiers –who are undeniably badass with their armor and spears, and you catch Ellie, Yukio, and Kitty all staring at the women in awe—and his partner, Nakia, and his sister, Princess Shuri.

Tony and Professor Xavier handle the introductions with the King, which lets you stretch and take in the hangar and throngs of superheroes. You recognize a few of them –Captain America aka Steve Rogers, Ant-Man aka Scott Lang and his entourage --including a man with dark hair styled like Elvis that you recall seeing in some sort of news interview a while back and a young woman with curly brown hair and warm eyes that’s holding his hand-- and War Hero ,aka James Rhodes, aka Tony’s best friend and “work wife”—but some of the entourage members are new to you.

You take a moment to stretch out your back –sleeping in Piotr’s lap isn’t the worst quality rest you’ve ever had, but given the configurations of the jet seats it was a little cramped—and admire the glimmering, inlaid lights on the hangar ceiling. Swanky.

“We have space prepared for the upcoming preparations and hosting all of you,” T’Challa says, voice cutting through the din of the crowd with ease. “If you would all follow Princess Shuri, please.”

Shuri smiles, then motions for everyone to follow her out of the hangar.

Half of the Dora Milaje break away from the formation, keeping a protective line between the princess and everyone else.

You fall into stride alongside your husband, well-practiced by now at matching your steps to his long stride.

***

The “prepared space” winds up being three massive rooms, each with smaller rooms sectioned around the main spaces, a kitchen-slash-rec area that joins the three massive rooms in the center, and three large, communal style bathrooms with multiple stalls for toilets and showers. The main rooms have several long, workstation style tables at them, with some beds stationed at the fringes, and the smaller rooms function only as bedrooms, mostly for the families with kids and the handful of couples present.

“This interface,” Princess Shuri says as she taps on a small disk embedded into the wall, “will let you contact security and staff if you have questions or need to speak with someone. There’s one in each room, for easy access. It will begin glowing and beeping if someone’s trying to send a call to you; you answer by pressing the base,” she explains, demonstrating on the disk.

“We’re expecting another group of people,” Tony pipes up. “Strange is collecting some of our allies from the South Eastern Quadrant. They should be here in the next sixteen hours, give or take.”

Shuri nods. “We’ll contact you when they arrive.” She offers the group a magnanimous nod and smile, then strides out the hall you all entered through, flanked by the Dora Milaje soldiers.

For a moment, no one moves. You all stand around, hesitating as you all try to take in the new scenery and space.

Alex moves first. She sighs, then grabs her duffel and strides towards the nearest workroom. “No point in waiting.”

Her initiative seems to jolt everyone else out of their daze. Everyone sections off, largely sticking with the groups of their original affiliation.

You amble alongside Piotr, peering around the workroom as you try to decide where to set your pack. Here goes nothing.

***

We’re staring down the apocalypse, you muse as you watch everyone set up shop, and it’s all coming down to sewing machines.

It’d come as a shock when Alexandra had lugged the sleek, white machine out of its carrying case. She’d set it on one of the tables, then lifted bolts of thick, rugged Kevlar out of one of her duffels next. Thread, scissors, measuring tape, and gridded cutting boards follow the Kevlar—

And then the sewing machine jammed as soon as Alex turned it on.

“Ty meshok der'ma,” Alex mutters under her breath as she fiddles with the internal mechanisms of the sewing machine. She glares at the gears, grumbling and swearing while she prods at them with a pair of tweezers. “Kakogo khrena tvoya problema?”

The situation seems mundane in its inanity.

The end of the damn world, and we’re being thwarted by twenty pounds of plastic and metal.

“Day mne poprobovat'.” Nikolai crouches down next to his wife. He adjusts the reading glasses perched on his nose, then aims a small flashlight at the interior of the machine. He murmurs and tuts in Russian while prodding at the machine –and then he makes a soft noise of exclamation. “Broken needle. Pryamo tam.”

“Sukin syn.” Alex uses her telekinesis to draw out the metal shard, then lets out an exasperated sigh and spreads her arms when the machine finally makes the proper start up noises. “Thank you.”

“Be nice,” Nikolai chides her with a teasing grin. “Is uncomfortable, having metal stuck in organs. You would not want to work either.”

“I’ve had metal in my organs,” Alex grumbles as she gets her sewing machine configured. “I still managed.” She smirks when Nikolai laughs, then kisses her husband’s cheek before motioning for you to approach. “Come here, ptitsa. I want to reinforce your suit; I need your measurements.”

You round the table, shucking off your sweatshirt so Alex can measure your torso. “Is there anything I need to do?”

“Just hold still, malenkiy,” Alex murmurs as she runs her tape measure around your waist.

“I make no promises,” you joke.

Alex snorts, then moves her measuring tape up to your ribcage.

***

The waiting is, somehow, worse now.

At least on the plan there was a promise of a destination. A sense of the temporary, that you’d be up and moving and doing again within a few hours.

Unfortunately, reality is so often different from how you envision it, just as it is now. Because the reality of the situation is that there are only a limited number of people capable of helping. Nate and Tony are working with the Princess to configure weapons to fight Thanos’s forces, Hank and the healers are preparing a makeshift medical bay, Frank, Wade, Mikhail, and Neena are cleaning and checking guns, Alex, Piotr and Nikolai are taking turns working on fabricating armor for those who need it—

Leaving you with nothing to do. Aside from keeping those who are working well fed and hydrated and managing the kids, all you can do is sit and watch while everyone else prepares.

It’s agony. Your chest aches from stress, and your stomach’s churning so much you can barely choke food down at mealtimes. I need to help more. I need to do something, dammit.

It’s like being in line for random execution and having no idea whether you’re going to be shot or not.

You stay close to Piotr. You run food and snacks and drinks for anyone who needs it. You help manage the kids when the need arises –but since most of their parents are here, the incidents are far and few between.

You sit. And you wait.

It’s all you can do.

***

“Absolutely not.”

“You need to be reasonable.”

“I am. It’s perfectly reasonable to keep a fourteen-year-old off a fucking battlefield!”

Alex sighs. She leans back in her seat and raises an eyebrow at her eldest daughter. “Normally I would agree, but I don’t think you’ll have much say in the matter. Your ability to control her is notably lacking.”

Artemis huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “You try reining in a teenager who’s realized there’s no consequences to her actions.”

“I’m not judging, merely observing,” Alex assures her daughter. “But, at any rate, it’s not unreasonable to predict that she’ll join the fray at some point. Body armor is a necessity.”

“It’s an invitation! She’ll take it as permission!”

“Artemis?” Allison sticks her head into the room, then strides over to her mentor-slash-surrogate mother. “Is everything okay? Who’s getting permission to do what?”

“No one is,” Artemis grumbles, even as she holds her arm out so the teen can lean against her side. “Especially not you.”

Allison lets out a disgusted sigh and rolls her eyes. “I already told you—”

“You’re not fighting.”

“I can handle myself!” Allison snaps. She jerks away from Tatianna, scowling. “You’re treating me like a baby!”

“Compared to me, you are a baby,” the older woman points out drily.

“It’s not your burden to bear,” Alex interjects, fixing the testy teen with an even –though not harsh—stare. “Teenagers shouldn’t have to fight for the future of the world. That’s for adults to handle.”

“No one gets to decide,” Allison grits out, “what my burdens are. And this isn’t about ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t.’”

The corner of Alex’s mouth twitches. She looks up at Artemis, brows raised.

Artemis sighs. She tips her head back, staring up at the ceiling, then looks down at Allison. “You need body armor to keep you safe. That does not mean, however, that you’ll be joining us in the fight against Thanos.”

Allison sweeps her tongue along the inside of her cheek. She crosses her arms and cocks her head to the side. “Pretty sure you don’t get to decide that.”

“Pretty sure you should listen to me,” Artemis fires back, “since I have more experience and am telling you that it’s too much for you to handle.” She lets out an exasperated breath when Allison rolls her eyes, then waves her hand dismissively as if to say ‘I tried.’ “Get her set up.”

Alex nods, then waves Allison over. “Alright, malenkiy. Let’s get you sorted.”

***

“Are you asleep?”

“Nyet.” Piotr rolls over, drapes an arm over you, and kisses your forehead. “I would ask you the same, but…”

You manage a small chuckle. “Pretty obvious answer, yeah.”

The two of you are in one of the private rooms –if only because (aside from your status as married) it has a bed big enough to accommodate Piotr. There’s a small window that overlooks a cavern beneath the lab. Dim, blue light seeps through the glass pane, but it’s not enough to properly illuminate the room.

Piotr’s fingers skim over your upper arm. “Why are you not sleeping, myshka?”

“Can’t,” you admit, voice wavering. You take a deep breath through your nose and try to calm yourself. “I just… I can’t handle not doing anything. It gives me too much time to think about what might happen.”

Piotr croons gently, drawing you in closer so he can tuck you against his chest. He cradles your head with one massive head. “Dorogoy. You know such things are not good for you.”

“Yeah, I know,” you grumble, eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Doesn’t mean that knowledge stops my brain any.”

“Ya znayu,” Piotr murmurs as he kisses your temple. “But everything is going to be alright, myshka.”

“Except it really might not be,” you argue, voice shaking. You grip the material of his shirt, as though he might be wrenched away from you at any moment and whisked away into the wind. “It really might not, Piotr.”

Your husband doesn’t say anything in response to that. He merely holds you closer still and strokes his fingers through your hair.

You press your forehead against his chest and start weeping quietly.

***

The second day is much like the first –a slow, agonizing crawl punctuated by overwhelming anxiety and exhaustion.

You linger at the table where Nate, Tony, and Ellie are modifying guns, handing the three various tools and materials when they ask for it. You watch their progress numbly, brain devoid of anything other than wordless worry.

At least, you watch until Nate texts Piotr to come get you.

“Davay, myshka,” your husband coaxes as he lifts you off your stool. He grunts slightly as he shifts you into a bridal-style hold, then carries you away from the table and out of the room. “Let’s have lunch.”

“But—”

“Is important to stay fed and hydrated.”

“—I was helping.” You peer past Piotr’s arm –then sigh when Nathan gives you a sympathetic, concerned smile and waves you along. “Baby—”

“Just for little bit.” Piotr sets you down when you ask, but he keeps a hand on your shoulder, just in case. “Is not good to sit and stew in anxiety.”

You drop your gaze to the floor. “You can’t prove anything.”

Piotr lifts his hand from your shoulder and cradles your cheek. He strokes his thumb against your skin, waiting until you look up at him before speaking again. “Come have lunch with me, moya lyubov’,” he says with an adoring smile (which you’re certain is a deliberate, tactical move on his part to make sure you don’t try and argue, and dammit if it isn’t working). “I would enjoy your company.”

You scuff the toe of your sneaker against the floor, but ultimately acquiesce. “Alright. I guess I should take a break.”

***

The snooping starts after lunch, while Alex is chewing Frank out for spray-painting his bullet proof vest.

“What, are you looking to ruin perfectly good Kevlar?” Alex gripes as she tosses Frank’s “Punisher” vest aside. “You want to break down the material? Get shot out like some schmuck because you decided to be an artist?”

“It’s strategic,” Frank argues with a good-natured, crooked grin. “Keeps my enemies’ line of sight trained on where I have the most protection.”

Alex nods and makes a sarcastic noise of assent. “‘Strategic.’ Is that what it is? Ya ne mogu v eto poverit'. V moye vremya my nazyvali strategiyu pobedoy, a ne stavili svoyu grebanuyu vizitnuyu kartochku na kazhdoye sovershennoye nami proklyatoye ubiystvo. Get your ass over here, drama boy.” She scoffs and starts measuring Frank’s chest and shoulders. “‘Strategiya,’” she scoffs. “What a load of horse shit.”

“Akh akh,” Nikolai tuts as he walks into the room with a plate of food and glass of water. “What is happening here?”

“I’m pretty sure I upset the apple cart, sir,” Frank says, unabashed.

Nikolai chuckles while Alexandra brings up to speed, ranting in irritated Russian. He sets the plate and glass on the table next to his wife, kisses her head, then ambles back out to the kitchen—

And that’s when you notice it. Or, rather, her.

Natasha Romanoff, aka the Black Widow. Renowned spy, assassin, weapons and espionage expert, and former member of the Avengers if the debacle surrounding the Sokovia Accords is to be believed.

She’s sitting at the kitchen counter on barstool, tapping away at her phone –which isn’t inherently suspicious, but her line of sight lets her look directly into the room you’re all situated in and—

She’s watching Alex.

At first you think she might be watching Frank (which, fair enough, having a mass murderer, somewhat unstable vigilante around is a reasonable cause for caution). But when Frank gets up and walks out (probably to go find Karen), Natasha doesn’t even move. Her gaze –when she’s not looking at her phone—stays fixed on Alexandra while she works at her sewing machine.

For once, you’re grateful Piotr is as large as he is; he makes a great hiding spot to do countersurveillance from.

Natasha approaches slowly, but deliberately. She talks to someone on her phone –whether she’s faking or not doesn’t matter to you, because she still uses it to get off the barstool and amble around while she’s talking. Then, she has a conversation with Captain Rogers, which she uses to get a few feet closer to the doorway.

At some point, you’re not certain if she realizes you’re watching her, only because she gives up the pretense of trying to hide her snooping entirely. She leans against the doorframe, watching Alex intently while she marks, pins, and cuts out fabric.

It’s Illyana who has enough of the whole thing first. Three minutes into Natasha standing in the door way, the blonde sighs, sets her phone down on the work table, and glares up at the red head. “Kakogo khrena ty khochesh?”

Natasha purses her lips slightly. She acknowledges Illyana with a brief glance, then turns her focus back to Alex. “Alexandra.”

“Natalia,” Alex says by way of greeting, not even bothering to look up from her work. “Are you here to help, or are you here to waste my time?”

She grimaces, but recovers and smiles politely. “It’s been a long time.”

“So, you’re here to waste my time,” Alex surmises as she pins a pattern to a piece of heavy black Kevlar.

Natasha swallows reflexively, then turns on her heel and walks away.

***

Half an hour later, it’s Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes’s turn.

The two supersoldiers are far less covert than Agent Romanoff. They stand in the middle of the rec room, a few feet away from the door, and don’t make any attempt to hide their conversation or the fact that they’re watching Alex (and, to some extent, her children and Nikolai as well).

Illyana says something to her mother a few times, but Alex waves her off –and, in general, seems unbothered. “U nas yest' rabota, snezhinka. U nas yest' rabota.”

“Did you know him?” you ask, later, when the Rasputin kids are out of the room. “The Winter Soldier?”

You’ve heard enough through the grapevine to know about the basics of the man’s story –captured by Hydra, experimentation, brainwashing, being coerced into murdering.

(It all sounds chillingly familiar.)

“We crossed paths,” Alex admits with a shrug. She slides a piece of ceramic armor plating inside a Kevlar pouch, then starts sewing the pouch shut. “Overlap was common back in the day.”

“Do you think he remembers you?” you murmur, glancing out at the kitchen (fortunately, Rogers and Barnes are gone for now).

Alex pauses. She purses her lips, then shrugs and resumes working. “I don’t know. He went through a lot with the forced mind wipes. There’s really no way of knowing.”

“Are you going to be in trouble if he does remember you?”

Alex huffs and favors you with a gentle smile. “I’ve gotten out of worse, ptitsa. Don’t worry so much.”

You say that like it’s easy, you think while the knot in your stomach coils tighter.

***

There’s a brief reprieve around dinner. You even manage to relax a little, smiling and chuckling as Piotr and Mikhail bicker and generally irritate each other as much as humanly possible.

Work starts up once more as soon as everyone’s done eating. You nestle yourself against Piotr’s side, relaxed via the virtue of being too tired to be stressed—

And then Tony Stark walks in.

Or perhaps “walk” isn’t the right term. He moves with an air of grandeur and utter self-assurance –which, even with your limited exposure to Tony Stark, you can tell is a “brand standard” for him. He tosses an apple up and down in one hand as he breezes along, expression blasé to the point of looking disinterested as he strides up to the table where Alexandra works.

If it weren’t for Natasha, Captain Rogers, and Sergeant Barnes scoping out the Rasputin matriarch earlier, you would’ve pegged Stark’s visit as entirely coincidental.

“What’s your deal?” Tony asks, leaning against the table next to where Alex is stationed at her sewing machine.

No pretense. No niceties. No attempt at subtlety.

Alex’s lips quirk into an annoyed grimace. She looks up and over the top of her machine for a moment, staring at Nikolai (likely trying to find any scrap of his infinite patience for herself), then lowers her gaze once more and says, “Usually, it’s not answering vague, pointless questions asked by nosey individuals.”

“You’ve got half my team twisted up just by being here,” Tony continues, unruffled. “I’ve seen Romanoff stare down the Hulk on a rampage without flinching. What about you is so special that you make her nervous?”

“Interesting,” Alex comments, almost to herself. “And here I thought, after the Berlin incident, your ‘team’ was largely disbanded. Something about ‘not agreeing with your leadership.’”

Tony’s face twitches, mouth briefly stretching into a pained grimace before he smooths it back out. “You don’t exist.”

“Everyone’s concept of self is different,” Alex mutters as she rips out a crooked seam on an armor pouch.

“There’s no record of your birth. Or your parents, for that matter. Your marriage license has no given maiden name. No history of education, doctor’s visits, driver’s license –nothing until you turned twenty-four.” He takes a bite of his apple, swallows, then says, “People don’t just ‘poof’ into existence as full grown adults. It doesn’t happen.”

“Perhaps,” Alex retorts as she resews the faulty seam, “you are just not very good at finding things.”

“I can find anything.”

“Except, it would seem, a way to keep from trying my patience.”

Tony watches her for a moment longer –then, when she doesn’t say anything, he turns and starts striding out of the room. “I’m going to figure out what’s up with you. There aren’t any secrets that can hide from my A.I.”

Alex doesn’t dignify his departure with a response –but her eyelid twitches as she continues her sewing.

You look up at Piotr, only to find he’s watching Nikolai. You look over at the Rasputin patriarch, and your heart sinks when you see the worried expression on his face.

Nick sighs, then stands and rounds the table. He ambles up behind his wife, drapes his arms around her shoulders, and kisses the top of her head before he starts murmuring to her in quiet, loving Russian.

You lean against Piotr’s side, giving him a reassuring squeeze even though the only thing you feel is disquieted. You force yourself to take a deep breath and relax your jaw as fear starts crawling up your spine once more. One thing at a time. One thing at a time, that’s all you can do.

Except, it seems, when everything decides to happen at once.

***

Meeting the Norse god of thunder is… intense.

Though, that may have to do with the entourage of people he brings with him.

Around three in the morning, Dr. Strange shows up with the remaining allies –Thor, god of thunder, and his brother Loki, god of magic, Bruce Banner aka the Hulk, a woman by the name of Carol, and a group that calls themselves the “Guardians of the Galaxy” (which happens to include a talking raccoon and a sentient tree).

“Just when you thought, like, it couldn’t get weirder,” Kitty mutters to you as she stares at the newest arrivals.

You nod. Granted, your usual metric for all things weird is Wade, who has basically explored every avenue of zany, bizarre, and disturbing—

But yeah, this is pretty fucking weird.

“Where do we stand in preparations for the arrival of Thanos?” Thor asks Tony.

“We’ve got most of the busywork done,” Tony says, outlining the weapons upgrades and the armor work that’s been done. “We waited for major planning until we had everyone here and better intel.”

Thor nods, then gestures to two women standing with the “Guardians of the Galaxy,” one with green skin and dark hair and the other with blue skin and cybernetic enhancements. “This is Gamora and Nebula, daughters of Thanos. They’ll be able to provide information on the strength and size of his forces.”

“Good,” Steve pipes up from where he’s standing with Sam Wilson and Sergeant Barnes. “The sooner we have a plan, the better.”

“It can wait until we’ve slept,” Alex decides, voice crisp. “We won’t come up with anything good while we’re fried.”

Tony blinks, then scowls. “Thanos could be here as soon as this coming morning.”

“Then we’ll be doubly fucked if we’ve stayed up all night trying to scrape together a plan,” Alex replies, unmoved. She crosses her arms when Tony glares at her. “The younger and less experienced of us need rest if this is going to work.”

“I’m with the lady,” Quill pipes up, brushing past Tony. He gives Stark a smile that, if you had to wager, is supposed to be charming but just comes off as arrogant. “I think you’ll find that we… don’t really roll with plans. It’s not our style.”

Alex stares at Quill for a moment, expression vastly unimpressed. She sighs, blinks slowly, shakes her head, then turns on her heel and strides back to the room she’s been sharing with Nick. “Absolutely not. I’m going back to bed.”

As if waiting for a cue, everyone else disperses, muttering about being tired and “needing an IV drip of espresso.”

You shuffle off with Piotr, hand in hand, shivering slightly from nerves. Please just let this go well.

***

“Both the Chitauri and the Klyntaar forces number into the tens of thousands. The Chitauri have sentient airships capable of carrying infantry forces while wreaking their own havoc, in addition to chariots that can carry up to five marksmen at a time. He also has tanks the size of this building that can demolish anything in their path.”

Everyone is gathered in one of the main work rooms. A majority of the people present hang back at the fringes, content to watch while Tony, Captain Rogers, King T’Challa, Alexandra, your uncle, Thor, Quill, and Natasha hash out a strategy.

“He’s trying to overwhelm us with sheer numbers,” Steve says in response to Gamora’s information.

“It might work,” Natasha murmurs, gaze focused on the worktable in front of her. “We don’t have near enough firepower to chip away at that many grunts.”

“Not if we play our cards right,” Alex says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“There’s also our siblings,” Gamora adds with a pained grimace.

Off to the side, Nebula scoffs. “They’re hardly family.”

“Thanos collected beings throughout the galaxy to serve him,” Gamora explains. “To act as his eyes and ears and eliminate his foes. Aside from Nebula and I, he has four other ‘children.’ They’ll be acting as his generals and commanders in the fight –and helping him track down and capture the final infinity stones.”

Tension ripples through the room.

“What do we know about these Infinity Stones?” Alex asks after a moment of fraught silence.

“The stones were originally created by the Celestials,” Loki pipes up from where he’s leaning against a wall. “Their magical properties are tied to aspects of the universe –time, space, reality, and so on. Only beings of immense power can wield them without severe consequences.”

“Thanos has the gauntlet that accompanies the stones,” Thor adds. “With it, once he assembles all six stones, he’ll be able to use them simultaneously.”

“He wants to wipe out half of all life on Earth,” Gamora says, voice wavering slightly. “That’s been his single goal ever since I’ve known him.”

“All men want to be gods,” your uncle jokes half-heartedly.

“Can the stones be broken?” Alex asks.

Loki chuckles, incredulous. “These are magical tools created by the most powerful beings ever known to the galaxy… and you want to break them?”

She shrugs. “Best not to overlook the simplest solution.”

“I’m taking that as a ‘no,’” Steve interjects. “So, if we can’t destroy them, how do we fight them?”

“The only thing powerful enough to combat the effects of the Infinity Stones are the Infinity Stones,” Loki answers.

“And we only have two,” Natasha surmises, expression drawn and grim.

“Three.”

Everyone looks up and turns when Illyana speaks.

She smirks, tilting her chin up when Natasha meets her gaze. “We have three Infinity Stones.”

“Vision has the mind stone, and Dr. Strange has the time stone,” Kronos argues, shaking his head. “The soul stone is still missing.”

Illyana’s smirk broadens. She lifts her hand, curling it as if she was holding something.

A sword materializes in her hand –and in the center of the sword, small but unmistakable, is a glowing orange gem.

Your uncle’s eyes widen. “Holy shit.”

“Three,” Illyana repeats, looking supremely confident and self-satisfied. “Unless there is elusive seventh stone?”

Loki smiles ruefully, shaking his head. “The Goddess of Limbo pulls through. Well done.”

“Okay, but Vision’s stone is in his head and Strange has his stone in a necklace around his neck,” Tony interjects, gesturing to each person in turn.

“Amulet,” Dr. Strange mutters under his breath.

“Your stone disappears if you’re not holding it,” Tony continues, pointing to the sword as Illyana dematerializes it once more. “What’s stopping Thanos from finding it and taking it?”

“I am only person who can use Soul Sword,” Illyana says, arching her eyebrows. “It is bound to me until the next in my line is ready to take my place.”

“My family has been bound to Limbo’s magicks for generations,” Nikolai clarifies when Tony starts sputtering. “Illyana is the keeper of the sword, which means only she can call upon it. Thanos would need our blood to have access to it.”

Tony grimaces. “Still risky.”

“Better than nothing,” your uncle fires back.

“We have a shot of taking down Thanos with the other three Infinity Stones in our camp,” Steve says, planting his hands against the worktable's surface. “Without them, we’re as good as sunk.”

“Well then,” Alex says, smirking. “Let’s make sure we don’t waste our opportunity.”

***

“For the love of god, stop talking.”

“I’m just saying,” Quill starts, spreading his hands in a defensive gesture.

“You’re not saying shit!” Alex snaps, lifting her head from her hands to glare at him. “You’re just wasting our time!”

Once the planning started, a large portion of the crowd dispersed to help wrap up the last of the weapons modification. The leaders from each faction stayed behind –Tony, T’Challa, Steve, Natasha, Thor, Peter Quill, Xavier, your uncle, Alexandra, and Erik—to plan, along with Gamora, Nebula, and Loki so they could offer up information on Thanos, his forces, and the Infinity Stones.

You’d also hung back, since you didn’t have the skills necessary to do the weapons modification. If all I can do is sit around like a nervous lump, may as well do it where I won’t be in the way.

“This plan just isn’t our style,” Quill argues, either immune or completely ignorant to the exasperated sighs and death glares the others are giving him. “We like to take things looser, add a little pizazz.”

“How many times did your parents drop you as a baby?” your uncle asks, staring Quill down. “No, I’m serious,” he adds when Quill glares back at him and opens his mouth to argue. “I’m genuinely at a loss for how you can be this fucking dense.”

“We’re up against overwhelming numbers and powers no one here has ever seen, let alone fought against,” Natasha adds. “We need to allocate our resources carefully if we want even a chance at victory. The three wave strategy is our best chance.”

“Okay,” Quill says, pressing his hands together. “I think we just all need to relax—”

“You’ll be pretty fucking relaxed when I gut you,” Alex grumbles as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Look, the way I see it, Thanos can’t take us all at once!” Quill reasons. “If we hit him with everything we have—”

“We have to survive his armies, too,” Tony adds, words clipped. “Or there won’t be any of us for Thanos to be hit by.”

“No.” Alex glares at Quill when he keeps trying to argue, startling him into silence. “Look at them.” She points at Gamora and Nebula. “These are your friends, da? Your teammates and companions, da? This is their abuser we’re facing. If we lose, what do you think happens to them? Do you think someone that wants to destroy half of all life will have mercy for them? Hm? If you care about them, you pick the plan that has the best shot of ensuring their safety. Got it?”

Quill swallows reflexively. He stares down at the holographic display of the future battlefield, jaw working. He exhales through his nose, slow and stuttered, then nods. “Alright. We… we do the three wave strategy.”

“So glad we can agree,” Alex says, turning her attention back to the battlefield schematic. “Now, we were discussing where to put our snipers…”

***

“—I need both their arms. Trust me, it’s the only way this is gonna work.”

“Look, I’m normally all for a little dismemberment, but I don’t think forming our own amputee league is gonna net us a win here.”

You shake your head as Wade banters back and forth with the talking racoon –whose name is Rocket, apparently—then look over at Nathan. “How long have they been at this?”

“Going on three hours now,” Nate replies. A soft, endeared smile flits across his face when he looks at Wade, but his expression sobers when he resumes his soldering job. “How’s the final plan looking?”

“Everyone but Quill was leaning towards a three-wave tactic.”

Nathan grunts. “Yeah, he seems like a jackass.”

“Alex threatened to gut him.”

“Hey!” Wade shouts, sounding genuinely wounded. “No disemboweling without me!”

“Quill wanted to do an ‘all for one’ attack directly on Thanos.” You sit down next to your dad, studying his face while he works. “You’ve actually fought against these people before. Do… do you think dividing our forces up will actually work?”

“The issue is the land and air forces,” Nathan says, shaking his head. He attaches a power unit to the base of a rifle, then starts welding the compartment shut. “This time doesn’t have the necessary shielding to repel the Chitauri and Klyntaar forces for that long. We’ll have to fight the grunts; holding some of our people back to make sure we have someone to take on Thanos is our best bet.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll win, though,” you point out.

He offers you a melancholy half-smile. “That’s war, kid.”

Your heart sinks further. “Do we even have a chance?”

“Statistics says we do,” Nathan says he strips a piece of wire before threading it into the gun.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Nathan sighs. He looks at you for a long moment, then says, “I think we have the best shot possible with what we have right here, right now.”

You gulp, then nod. It’s still not technically an answer to your question –let alone a positive one—but…

You’ve learned that, sometimes, it better not to dig at these sorts of questions at all.

***

“We’re dividing our forces into thirds.”

You’re all crammed into the rec room post dinner. In the center of the room, by the counter, Tony, Steve, Natasha, and Alex are addressing the crowd in turns.

“The first wave will consist of high stamina fighters and snipers,” Steve says. “There’s a shield system that extends several hundred kilometers around the lab’s perimeter. Wakandan soldiers will join the line of snipers who will pick off any of Thanos’s forces that make it through the shields.”

“We’ll also have any fighters with enhanced stamina on standby, in case there’s a larger breach,” Alex adds. “Their job will be to protect the sniper line from being overrun by the enemy forces.”

“The second wave will be air support,” Tony continues. “Myself, Rhodey, Wilson, and any flying mutants will head out when the Chitauri airships come in. Princess Shuri has a fleet of attack drones at the ready, which can be manned from headquarters in the lab. HQ will have a complete look at the battlefield; all intel will be coming from them during the fight.”

“Third wave is everyone else, save for Illyana, Dr. Strange, and Vision,” Natasha says. “We’ll join the fray when the second wave of Thanos’s forces arrive. The final three” –she nods to Illyana, Dr. Strange, and Vision in turn—“will wait in central headquarters until Thanos arrives, to prevent early capture of the remaining Infinity Stones.”

“In the meantime,” Tony says, “we’re going overtime on modifying rifles to be sonic weapons. They’re more effective against the Klyntar forces than regular firearms. All hands on deck. If you can’t solder, you can run supplies back and forth and help perform diagnostic tests at the firing range. Clear?”

Everyone nods, then breaks off to start working on constructing and testing more “awesome guns.”

You slid your fingers between Piotr’s. Your heart’s in your throat, racing a mile a minute. Your mouth feels dry.

If you were the religious type, you’d start praying. As it is, you make a plea with the universe on the off chance it decides to listen to you –for once.

Please. Please just let this work.

***

“So… about the three-wave plan—”

Tony slams down the compartment piece he’d been working on against the table. He glares at Quill, face strained with barely constrained rage and impatience. “What the fuck is your deal?”

“It’s just not sitting well with me,” Quill continues, leaning against the table. “I’m more of a ‘solo moment’ style person. More of a lone wolf.”

You gape at him. “You… you work with a team of five!”

“I just think that there needs to be a more focused confrontation with Thanos. Y’know, for someone to challenge him, man to man—”

“Some get this idiot out of my face,” Tony snaps, looking around for anyone that might be willing to assist –or, at the very least, drag Quill out of the room by his jacket collar.

“You’re not listening to me!”

“You’re wasting my time!”

“Why does every problem come back to you?” Alex stalks into the work room, eyes glowing a dull shade of copper as irritation takes hold in her. She strides over to Quill, looking like a menace in black leather and Kevlar. “How much more of a nuisance can you possibly make yourself?”

“I’m just pointing out some flaws in the strategy!” Quill argues, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’m being the devil’s advocate!”

“You’re pointing out dick,” Agent Barton, alias Hawkeye, points out from the side (where he’s modifying some of his arrows to release sonic pulses).

“Look,” Quill presses on, ignoring Clint’s comment. “We need to make sure this thing is airtight—”

“We don’t have time for ‘airtight,’” Nathan growls, cybernetic eye flaring. “The goal is to survive, not to create perfection.”

“I really just think—”

Alex scowls –and then her hand snaps out and closes around Quill’s neck. She slams him against the edge of the table, sneering down at him while he coughs and claws –futilely—against her iron grip. “You’re past the point of being a nuisance. You’re a fucking liability.”

Quill wheezes, face slowly turning red.

“If I was paid every time a man like you told me how to do my job…” Her voice trails off, and she lets out a sardonic chuckle. “Let me make something clear to you, Peter Quill.” Her hand tightens around his neck, which makes some ominous creaking noises as she presses against layers of tissue, cartilage, and bone. “I am not about to have an asshole like you risk the lives of my children, the people who are putting their own lives on the line to protect the world, or the future of the damn universe. If you’re going to keep being a jackass about this…” She smirks. “I’ll kill you. I’ll do it right here, right now. I am not going to have a hazard like you on my team or on that battlefield.” She grins nastily, leaning in closer as Quill’s eyes bug out. “Best thing is, no one really knows you’re here. No tracks to cover, no family to pay off, no authorities to worry about. You’d be an unfortunate casualty in war. No one would fucking miss you.”

A chill runs down your spine. You gulp, stomach twisting as you look from Alex, to Quill, to Alex again. Is anyone going to stop her...

“I really don’t know how to make this any fucking clearer, but since you’ve proven to be thick-headed, I’ll summarize: you stray from the plan in any way, and you’re dead. Got it?”

Quill nods hastily. He gasps when Alex releases him, collapsing to the floor. He hacks and coughs, one hand rubbing at his throat while his skin slowly fades away from an angry magenta color.

“So glad we understand one another.” Alex smirks, then turns on her heel and strides out of the work room like nothing even happened.

You purse your lips, trembling while everyone goes back to work like nothing even happened. You try to focus on sorting pieces into containers for the fabricators to grab from, but with your shaking hands it’s near impossible. You duck your head, gritting your teeth together as your stomach churns angrily. I just want this all to be over.

***

The call comes in a couple hours later.

“We’ve got temporal disturbances outside the shield perimeter,” Kronos shouts while alarms blare overhead. “Thanos’s forces have arrived and are attempting to break through to our location.”

Your stomach drops as everyone starts scrambling. You grab your flight jacket and goggles, throwing them on haphazardly. You start running towards the hangar –then stop and switch directions. “Piotr!”

He pauses when he hears your voice, turning and catching you as you leap into his arms. He kisses you briefly –desperately—then pulls back and cups your face in his hands. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You give him a quick hug, then pull away and start sprinting towards the hanger where the rest of the air support is gathering. Tears sting your eyes, but you wipe them away and force down your fear and preemptive grief. Focus. You have to focus.

It’s time.

[baodurs]

i filled out this super cool button character profile by @extraordinarymage for sabrina! thank you for making this, it was a lot of fun to fill out <3 the bulk of it is under a cut and oh boy is it long !!!

Short, Quick Reference

Name: Sabrina Wiseman

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Love Interest: Kent

Main personality trait: Confidence

Secondary personality trait: Morbidity

Relationship with Nick: Full of love, haunted by unaddressed guilt and frustration. But mostly full of love.

Nickname for Nick: Saint Nick (used sparingly)

Resentful or accepting?: Slightly resentful

Main strategy (interpersonal, insightful, innovative?): Insightful

Ethical or expedient?: Expedient

GENERAL

Name: Sabrina Larkspur Wiseman

Nickname(s): Sab, used by anyone; Sabby, only Nick and Sally; and, of course, Button for Nick.

Birthday: I think I made her an October Libra for the purpose of a template I did months ago, but I’m not sure! No concrete birthday yet, I’m always very slow to nail down details like this.

Age: 20

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Hair color + style: Blonde. A little past shoulder length, sometimes wavy. Usually a middle part. For Aeon, tied back in a bun.

Eye color: Blue, entirely because of the section of Frank O’Hara’s “Meditations in an Emergency” that goes, “My eyes are vague blue, like the sky...”

Height: 5′5

Piercings: Multiple in each ear, but a couple have started to close.

Tattoos: None yet! Sab likes the idea of a tattoo but is worried about finding the perfect design, whether she’d end up hating it, that the pain might be greater than she expects and she’ll look like a baby in front of her tattoo artist. I’d like to think she eventually consults Sally and/or Glitch to come up with an idea that she falls in love with, but I haven’t come up with what that would be!

Clothing style: Mostly solid colors, not a lot of patterns. Nothing super bright, but a fairly varied mix of pastels, neutrals, dark colors, black. Partial to denim skirts and sweater tops. Ankle boots. Likes a good turtleneck. She’s bolder when it comes to formal wear, and especially loves suits. Big fan of silk and satin.

Since she has a pretty accurate face claim, I’ll link some gifsets I’ve rb’d for appearance ref if you are so inclined.

STATS

I’m always adjusting minor things and swapping scenes around, but these are from my most recent Sab run! Most scores hover somewhere around these values.

Personality:

Confidence: 53%

Humor: 5%

Morbidity: 22%

Resentful: 57% | Accepting: 43%

Strategy:

Interpersonal: 12%

Insightful: 50%

Innovative: 10%

Ethical: 43% | Expedient: 57%

KEY DECISIONS:

What is Nick’s nickname and why?: Saint Nick, used very rarely. It’s a joking reference to the time she thought Santa was an evil Ment out to ruin Christmas, and a point about Nick overdoing it with the cheer. “Saint Nick” is usually code for “I know you mean well, but please mind your own business.” Otherwise, she just calls him Nick.

What is their favorite type of cookie (and its name and why?): Salted caramel chocolate chip! No special name.

What was their initial reaction to Sally hugging them, as kids?: She just froze. That could just be me projecting adult Sabrina onto her childhood self; I don’t imagine that she was as uncomfortable around strangers or quite as cautious back then. But that’s what I’ll stick with.

How did they ace the ASE test?: The in-game option she takes is “My entire life has revolved around strategic avoidance,” but the one about being just plain smart also sounds like her. If Sab has the chance to thoroughly (over)prepare for something, she will do it. Her mind blindness also has her constantly (over)analyzing situations. So, hard work and relentless anxiety!

Did they manage to win their first assignment? How?: Yes, by having Sally block the door. I’ve headcanoned some slight differences in how it plays out, which I wrote about in-depth here. To summarize, Sab thinks of blocking the door as a desperate last resort, not a clever loophole, and she pushes back against Rosy’s praise because she wishes she could have done it the “real” way. Rosy goes from being impressed to being annoyed that she’s willfully missing the point.

What was the primary emotion Button felt during the Aeon bombing (love, gratitude, etc?): Guilt. She feels very guilty about how much Nick has given up for her in general, but I think that in the moment, it’s on a smaller scale. The fact that Nick was on the phone with her when it happened, coming to her rescue like always, becomes emblematic of their whole relationship for her, and she really fixates on that.

Who drove them home from the hospital from and why?: Glitch. Sab responds to her initial text with “Are you sure?”, and is relieved when Glitch takes that as “Yes, please.” She doesn’t relish the idea of being around someone more connected to her family or Nick at that point.

How do they feel about Nick riding around in their mind?: Worried, at first. Just because it’s so unknown and absolutely insane. After seeing Doctor Amari, she’s excited! Sab is thrilled to be a Pollard Five and intends to take full advantage of it. I am not looking forward to seeing how she reacts when that’s taken away from her.

Why did Button agree to do the undercover mission?: To prove she still deserves to be an MIV. Sabrina feels stupid and reckless for putting herself, Nick, and Aeon in this position, but she knows she’s smart, and she hasn’t worked this hard for nothing. She wants to prove what she could do with a normal Pollard Score and make herself too valuable to give up even when she’s back to Zero.

Told Glitch about your mind blindness?: Depends on the playthrough. I’m constantly going back and forth on whether Sab meets Glitch for coffee or wanders the city with Nick in her second chapter 5 slot (after trying to track down Kent). If she does meet Glitch, though, she absolutely tells her; with how touchy Sab is about privacy, she couldn’t stomach not warning Glitch that Nick could hear everything they said.

Figured out K’s secret?: Nope. She finds enough of the clues to be given the “I knew it!” option in-game, but she didn’t actually put it together. Sab is too angry and embarrassed by learning that Kent is an AMO to find any reason to interrogate it. “The random guy I met before school just happens to be a jerk” is a perfectly sound explanation to her.

Found Noh’s clues?: Not at the metro station. Sometimes she sees the Vengeance brooms in chapter 5 (again, depending on the playthrough), but that’s it.

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP:

Love Interest: Kent

Why them?: Sab feels an immediate kinship with Kent after learning about the NPO program. It’s kind of funny how quickly he moves from the least sympathetic position in her eyes (Ment who got past me and read my mind without my knowledge) to the most sympathetic (non-powered child of a prominent family aiming a league above where he “belongs”). A lot of new respect for his competence. Her fate is sealed when she realizes that his kindness at the hospital wasn’t him trying to make up for some wrongdoing, but just him being very sweet. (She had scoffed over “You needed help.” But now she’s like, “Oh. He meant that?! Fuck.”)

As they spend more time together, Sab realizes how weirdly similar they are in other ways, too. And she starts to feel safe/secure around him in a way that she’s extremely not used to. Growing up surrounded by Ments, Sab has a lot of issues about being too much, too difficult, needing to “be worthy” of love. So someone like Kent who is not a Ment, who has no “obligation” to care about her, and whose judgement she trusts implicitly? Being around him and being loved by him mean a lot, and I think will go a long way towards helping her reflect on her other relationships!

What are their first impressions of each other?: Okay, there are like 3 first impressions with Kent. First: he’s tall and handsome and secretly adorable, and they have similar career goals, so she’s drafting a five-month plan to woo him and get his number. Second: he’s a lying, self-obsessed loser who owes her many explanations. Third: oh no, the first impression was true! And he’s been continually, selflessly kind to her in spite of her overt hostility. Scratch the five-month plan, because the crush was only fun when it was entirely superficial; now she really, really likes him and that just sucks.

We know that Button makes a good impression on K by stopping for their dogs, but apart from that... I mean, the “we confused each other” from chapter 7 is very apt. Sab has lots of shifting personas, and Kent sees pretty much every one within 24 hours. The prevailing impression before everything gets cleared up is probably just that she cares a lot? About everything? Her stopping for the dogs, how seriously she takes the first assignment, the way she seems so deeply affected by something he said or did that morning. It’s a rare side of her to meet first because she usually pretends to be above everything.

What feature does your Button find most attractive in their RO (ex. appearance, personality, etc.)?: Probably his composure. And his... steadfastness? The way he seems unruffled by anything, his soothing presence. She really admires that about him and finds the calm contagious.

What do they do to spend time together?: Going on drives together! Kent driving while Sab plays songs she thinks he’ll like, talking or not talking. Cuddling on the couch while reading their own separate books. Museum dates. Walking the dogs together.

Do they argue? How do they handle arguments and disagreements? How do they make up?: I imagine that the first month or so of their relationship would be difficult, just because they’re both bad at expressing themselves and not used to relying on other people. Kent kind of negates a lot of Sab’s impulses to get defensive or hostile, so instead of arguments, I think there are more likely to be awkward periods where she’s just stewing in something without addressing it. Most of their fights would be, like, one of them becoming really distant for a concerning number of days until the other tries to awkwardly check in on them.

What does their future look like?: Uhh some random lore: I think eventually they do get married, despite neither of them caring that much about it. Sabrina would be excited to have something to plan, and she knows it would make the people around her happy. They have a long engagement; there’s never really an “official” proposal, just an acknowledgement that yeah, they’ll get married one day, and then eventually they get rings. The engagement is almost Sab’s favorite part, honestly. She likes planning and showing off her ring and calling Kent her fiancé, a lot of fanfare on her part for a wedding that ends up being very modest and chill.

OTHER RELATIONSHIPS (Feel free to go in depth!)

Relationship with Nick: When I first started developing Sab, I thought that with as difficult/prickly as she can be, her relationship with Nick would be worse than it is. Never bad, but certainly strained, with more jealousy/resentment on her side. However, she rejected this. She is resentful, but never towards Nick—she internalizes the negative parts of their relationship so they manifest as guilt instead. And that’s the problem, not resentment. Sab thinks he’s overprotective, but that doesn’t make her angry; it just makes her sad. She wishes things were different and he didn’t feel so responsible for her, but she also doesn’t know how she could manage without him taking on so many of her burdens. So, guilt! So much love, but always looming guilt.

Having Nick in her head has helped. It’s added a new kind of guilt (“I’m a horrible person for being so giddy that people can’t hear my thoughts even though that requires my brother to be in a coma”), but getting inside Nick’s head for once and really feeling his love for her changes things. Makes her feel way more secure, I guess? It’s easier to see her brother as human person, a friend who loves her, rather than a perfect selfless paragon who sacrificed everything to raise her, which is an important shift.

There are also Things happening with self-presentation in the fact that they’re both models, and flirts, and pretend to be shallow. And the ways that they’ve responded to vastly different expectations. And selflessness versus selfishness. But I have no idea how to talk about that yet.

Relationship with Father: Strained and distant. Sabrina doesn’t necessarily blame him for leaving, but she hates how he’s handled it. She’s incredibly frustrated that John insists on keeping them in this miserable limbo of uncomfortable visits, even though moving away was (to her) a tacit acknowledgement that she and her parents are better off without each other. He’s trying to force a relationship that Sab thinks is ultimately harmful for everyone involved. For Nick’s sake, she’s willing to grin and bear the visits, but it never works because John can obviously tell it’s an act. He pushes her, she gets defensive, and so on to infinity.

Relationship with Mother: Like with John, Sab doesn’t resent Hope for the incident itself, or for leaving afterward. It was terrifying, and the idea of being around Hope makes her panic—but she thinks of that as just another irrational anxiety symptom, and she’s trying to work through it. What she does resent Hope for is letting it get to that point at all. Sab is incredibly bitter that Hope will suffer silently to the point of almost killing her (during the incident) and potentially herself (with the BRS), while Sab has no choice but to be completely open. Especially because they’re so similar in that way—she’s almost jealous. “Oh, so your silence is allowed to almost kill me and it’s ‘nobody’s fault’ but I can’t pretend to enjoy a single lunch with Dad without him calling me out for lying?”

And even though she doesn’t hold the incident itself against her, Sab is very hung up on “Why are you never quiet? Why are you always there?” She knows, on some level, that this was not a Personal Judgement against her. But because Hope keeps so much quiet, this is the only honest expression of her mother’s feelings that she can remember! It would take a lot for Sab to believe that Hope was really, genuinely interested in reconnecting with her, rather than just pretending to love her "enough” this time because to do otherwise would reflect poorly on Hope as a mother.

Relationship with Sally: Besties <3 Sally is the only member of the Wiseman inner circle that Sab doesn’t have complicated feelings about. They both have hidden morbid streaks that they bring out in each other, and can laugh about. They both have competitive streaks that work well together because they’re always on the same team. And their wants/needs from the relationship complement each other well, I think. Sally has always felt valued because she’s useful and not because she’s loved, while Sab has always felt smothered by love/care without feeling like she genuinely adds value to other people’s lives. So it means a lot to both of them that they’re able to help each other practically, while also genuinely loving and supporting each other outside of that.

Relationship with Gray: Full of trust and genuine care, but predicated on distance. Sab loves him a lot for being so careful not to cross any boundaries, physical or emotional, with her. She’s grateful that he’s there for Nick in a way that she doesn’t feel she can be. But "I like Gray because he doesn’t push me and is good to Nick” means that any hand he extend makes her defensive, because she’ll either view him as an emissary of Nick or start to panic because their normal routine is being disrupted (she doesn’t tell him about Hope in ch 3, for example).

They get along very well in a friend-of-a-friend sort of way, and bond over being cautious counterparts to Nick. Also, Sab never had a crush on Gray, but she is not immune to tall superhero and thinks it’s fun to fake flirt with him. (You know Isabela’s “You have pretty eyes” routine from DA2? Sab does that to Gray when conversations steer towards things she’d rather not talk about.)

Relationship with Glitch: I’m really excited about these two! They click from the start, and Sabrina feels immediately comfortable around Glitch, which makes her feel distinctly uncomfortable whenever she catches herself. Externally, they have pretty different personalities, but they’re both perceptive and... socially manipulative? aware of their self-presentation?... in ways that they both pick up on right away. So it’s a lot of conversational maneuvering and trying to figure out what the other’s game is, while also genuinely enjoying each other’s company.

Relationship with Kent/Kenna: I could go truly insane here. See the romance section above instead.

Relationship with Kim: Sab wants him to like her sooooo bad. He’s one of the only people to ever really get through to her, re: my headcanon conversation after the first assignment. Authority figures tend to treat her as special, whether that’s negatively because of her mind blindness or positively because she’s such an overachiever. She had no idea how to respond to that not being the case (and didn’t handle it well at first), but chapter 6 solidifies her respect for him.

It also turns Rosy’s opinion of Sab around; he was impressed by her in class but left his office thinking she was self-absorbed and naive. But the bombing is a reality check, and her response is very measured and practical in a way that surprises him.

Relationship with Lev: She doesn’t mind the comparisons to Nick or the “maybe one day they’ll fix you” comments as much as you might think. They aren’t her favorite, but she prefers that sort of thing to the inspirational platitudes belied by coddling that she got from her family growing up. Sab has fond memories of Lev and is grateful that he’s always been kind to her, but doesn’t have any particular feelings apart from that.

Relationship with Clarence: Holds a grudge against him for causing a scene, making her late, and generally being a jerk. But she can’t fault him for being right, after what happened! Mostly she just wants to avoid him, but she’ll be thrilled to lord her success over him if/when she proves herself.

Relationship with Dean Branham: Like Rosy, another authority figure that Sab desperately wants to impress. But without the personal investment she has in Rosy’s validation, more “Oh, this person is in charge, so I should make her like me!” Despite Nick’s and Rosy’s reservations, Sabrina doesn’t really have a problem with being “strongarmed” or manipulated into cooperating; for now, she figures Branham was just doing her job and respects her tactics.

Relationship/attitude towards Ments in general: Mostly just uncomfortable and wary around them. Sab doesn’t want her mind read, and she figures that no Ment wants to be forced to read it either. So she has a pretty strict “no Ments” rule for close personal relationships (excluding Nick, Sally, and Gray, of course. But only Nick really counts because he’s the only one who can hear her thoughts whenever she’s nearby). Not out of hatred or resentment, just because she knows it will be easier for everyone in the long run.

Do they have any other important relationships, past or present? (Relatives, friends, etc.?): Not many, but yes! Sab dated around a lot in the 2 years before Aeon (more like year and a half, because she completely shut it down once she was more focused on preparing for the MIV program), but there are 2 relationships that were formative/important for her. A high school sweetheart, and someone Sab met through modeling. She doesn’t keep up with her high school ex, but the model is her best friend outside of Sally and Nick, and they still keep in touch! I’m still developing them/the relationships, and I’ll probably post more about them someday. They’re fun!

PERSONAL BIO

Describe their personality: Confusing and contradictory. She has two main modes that confuse people who meet both (e.g., Kent). She’s either cold, stuck-up, and sometimes hostile, OR she’s charming, frivolous, and sometimes flirty. Mode 1 is tense but stoic and inexpressive; mode 2 is seemingly relaxed but very posed and insincere. Mode 1 is for when she feels uncertain or has no agenda apart from “get to point B”; mode 2 is for when she’s more comfortable or trying to manipulate someone. Her actual personality is a bit closer to the second, but she doesn’t pretend not take things seriously or hide when she’s annoyed.

Strengths: Analytical, methodical, detail-oriented. Very driven and hardworking. May not always act like it, but does have social skills/charisma; a great liar, if you can’t read her mind. Unfailingly loyal and loving to her favorite people, so so so warm and affectionate and supportive if she really loves you. Very perceptive.

Weaknesses: Way too proud. Can be petty and vindictive. Self-absorbed (she doesn’t mean anything by it, but it’s hard for her to see past herself sometimes). Stubborn, hates being wrong. And... emotional isn’t the word, but strong negative emotions can really cloud her judgement. It ties into her being proud, petty, and stubborn; if she’s really upset about something, she can cling to that emotion instead of re-evaluating it or moving forward.

Phobias: From this ask about the phobias that are planned to show up in-game, there are a few that I could see fitting Sab, but I want to wait to see how they’re implemented before I fully commit. Which is very metagame-y, I know (and I am very metagame-y about IF), but “fear of X” is so broad that it really does depend on when/how it manifests in the text.

That being said, agoraphobia is almost a lock; crowds do make Sab very anxious if she can’t keep track of everyone within a certain distance, and if she can’t leave when she starts feeling antsy. Claustrophobia is a maybe. The choice that triggers it (in chapter 4, about hating MRI machines) suits Sab, but I’m not sure if she hates MRI machines because she hates tight spaces, or if it’s more related to her general anxiety about hospitals, medical tests, etc. Which she definitely has!

What activities/club did they do in school?: She avoided anything group-oriented as far as possible. She took piano (maybe violin?) lessons and did recitals, but wasn’t in orchestra. The one exception was maybe National Honor Society or some equivalent, which she would have joined for her resume’s sake. And I think she would have tutored!

Where do they escape to when they need space?: A little used library corner, where she can people watch without being seen/heard.

How do they feel about/cope with their mind blindness?: Sab hates it but tries not to dwell on it. She knows that it’s no one’s fault, and she mainly just tries to... minimize it? Drown out her thoughts, limit her contact with Ments. And, least healthily, very rigidly managing herself. Because there’s so much of her that exists outside of herself, without her control, she tries to either filter or completely suppress everything else. Part of why she got into modeling, she can perform and be perfect and have total control over the final product of her body in the photographs for whatever campaign. Some Day This Will Be Better. But definitely not where she is in current canon.

How has your Button changed since the Incident with Hope?: Developed many new anxieties and disorders and syndromes :) She also became way more self-conscious, as in literally conscious of and way more tightly monitoring herself, what she’s thinking, what she’s expressing, how she’s sitting, etc. Less emotive face, more rigid posture.

If they weren’t an Aeon student, what would they be doing?: Sab would have beaten herself up forever if she “proved everyone right” by avoiding Unity/Ments entirely, so she’d want to stay in the family business somehow. She probably would have ended up doing scientific research on mental agility. Maybe even working for Mirrortech or some other biotech company, which I imagine would have been an interesting conversation to have with the family.

RANDOM FACTS:

Zodiac sign: Like I said, I assigned her Libra months ago for the sake of a template. But I don’t know enough about astrology to commit. Libra or Leo, probably.

Hobbies: Music, reading poetry, “cooking” (i.e., sitting on the counter and not helping while Nick makes dinner)

Likes: Watching other people (Nick) play video games, dressing up, taking long showers/baths, dark chocolate with caramel, back hugs

Dislikes: Being patronized, hot weather, going to the doctor, driving, doing anything she is not good at

Type of bedsheets: Bamboo.

Drink of choice: Cucumber mint lemonade! For hot drinks, some kind of caramel coffee. For alcohol, she refuses to get drunk because she’s terrified of having even less control of her mental broadcast, but at home/around people she trusts she’ll have a glass or two of wine. Doesn’t know enough to be picky, but doesn’t like it too sweet.

Favorite food: Probably some pasta dish Nick makes with asparagus and tomatoes and a lot of garlic.

Favorite color: Like a light turquoise!

Favorite music: Music to her was another mind-shielding tactic before anything else, so she tends to like upbeat-ish electronic/pop stuff. Catchy and repetitive, and/or with lots of personality to drown out her own thoughts. On the other end of the spectrum, she does have a soft spot for crackly, lo-fi, old or old-sounding slow songs—something about fuzzy recordings simulating a weak telepathic signal.

Favorite season: Hmm, spring and autumn are both good. She likes either side of winter.

Anything else you’d like to share: My heart and a long, fulfilling marriage, with anyone who reads all this 💍

[hermannsthumb]

From horny twitter: Hermann writes a very very detailed review of a vibrator online

not sfw below cut!!!!!!!!!!! 

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

Now, usually, Newt doesn’t mess around when he’s on the clock, because that’d be very unprofessional of him and that’s totally not who he is, but he’s in a little bit of a rut with his current project and could use the distraction. Online shopping is his favorite go-to distraction these days: he can lose himself in size charts and color options and hunts for coupon codes and forget, even for a few minutes, that the end of the world is accelerating towards them at an intimidating rate. Plus, he can write off half his shit as work-related expenses. Win-win. Though maybe not this particular search.

Newt has a pretty reliable arsenal of sex toys he’s used on rotation since he packed up and shipped across the world for the PPDC, but the ten-year warranty vibe he’s used since PhD #3 (and his favorite of the bunch) finally crapped out on him last week after a historically intense fight with Hermann got him historically wound up. Eleven years ain’t bad. After testing out a different charger, poking around in the wiring, and even going so far as to zap it a few times with some sorta-stolen drift tech to see if it stirred any life back into it, he finally decided it was time to just mourn, move on, and buy a new one. (Even if, unfortunately, his particular favorite model was discontinued when the company’s factory was destroyed in a kaiju attack and they never quite managed to recover. More casualties of the war.)

The sex toy market is truthfully booming during the apocalypse. It makes sense, Newt guesses—anything for a distraction. Personally, for Newt, orgasms tend to dampen his own existential dread, even if it’s just for a few minutes. He scrolls idly through a few Top Ten For 2023 listicles on various sex magazine websites to see if anything jumps out at him (some of the recommended toys are dildos he already has, and vibes that are a little beyond his k-sci paycheck), just hoping for something to jump out at him. Apparently he missed out on a limited-edition run of jaeger and kaiju-themed vibes and dildos that came out in early January, which he’s honestly a little pissed about—he’s the top expert on kaiju biology, god damn it! Didn’t anyone want to consult with him about their hypothetical junk? Accuracy matters.

“It’s all off,” Newt mutters grumpily as he examines a 360 view of one of the kaiju dildos. Trespasser. “It’s not even the right color. Fucking amateurs. Did they even try?”

“What are you doing?” Hermann says.

Newt slams his laptop shut. Hermann decided to cut his lunch break short today, apparently. “Shopping,” he says.

“You sounded awfully angry about something, is all,” Hermann says. He clacks over to his half of the lab and shrugs off his big parka, then pauses. “Do you need to...talk about it?”

“No,” Newt says.

Hermann breathes out in obvious relief. “Good,” he says.

He takes his usual spot at his chalkboard and resumes his calculating. Newt re-opens his laptop and scrolls away from Trespasser before he can make himself angry over anatomical inaccuracies again. The jaeger vibes from the collection are pretty cool, actually; the designs are a lot cleaner, and their artistic license is a lot more forgivable. The highest-rated of the set is one obviously (but not enough to invoke copyright infringement, if that can even exist for a jaeger) modeled off of Coyote Tango, with like, a million different settings, and an astronomical cost to match. Newt eyes it enviously. He could be shoving that up his ass right now if he’d just signed up for a stupid email list last year.

He follows the link to Amazon to read through some of the reviews enviously, too. Life-changing; best money ever spent; warranty lasts a lifetime. Ten stars across the board. Sold out, obviously. No idea when it’ll be back in stock. He could get the Striker Eureka model for twice the original cost as when it came out, if he wanted, but the idea of constantly having to associate the twenty-something punk Hansen kid with his intimate affairs makes him shudder.

A nine-star review for the Coyote Tango model from someone named MathLover69 is the only one to make Newt really pause, on account of how absolutely insane it is.

I saved quite a few paychecks to purchase this vibrator, and though the cost is steep, I must say it is absolutely worth it. As opposed to my normal vibrator (here another vibe is linked, and Newt’s eyebrows jump at that price, too), which has only five settings, an admittedly bulky body, and average battery life, the CT2023 has a generous ten, a sleeker design, and charges fully in a matter of minutes. The orgasms I have experienced while using it are higher in quality (and more numerous) than any resulting previously from masturbation, though I have not tried beyond setting six yet. It also works wonders for stress relief. (I have an incredibly irritating colleague, and nothing calms me down so much as a quick round with the CT2023 after a spat with him.)

The body is versatile enough to be either inserted into one’s—

Newt feels heat rise to his cheeks in spite of himself, and he skims the second paragraph of MathLover69’s review to get the gist of it—that there are, uh, plenty of ways to utilize the vibe, that it’s discreet and small enough to wear to work (if you were inclined to do so, as MathLover69 implies he might’ve been) and that when combined with the Yamarashi dildo, the pleasurable experience increased tenfold. Talk about oversharing. Jeez.

My only complaint would be that the design is a poor approximation of the real Coyote Tango, and for that I’ve docked a star. I would recommend this product.

“This guy is a total nut,” Newt says to himself.

“Hm?” Hermann says.

Newt considers the implications of showing Hermann the vibrator listing: Hermann will know he was shopping for sex toys, Hermann will know he was shopping for kaiju and jaeger-themed sex toys, Hermann will know he was shopping for kaiju and jaeger-themed sex toys during working hours a mere ten feet away from him. Embarrassing, but on the other hand, MathLover69’s review is too funny to not share with someone else. “Hey, Hermann,” Newt says, angling his laptop towards Hermann. “Look. Who comments shit like this?”

Hermann descends his ladder carefully and inches up behind Newt’s shoulder, squinting at his laptop screen. He immediately turns bright red. Newt must’ve offended his Victorian sensibilities with the mere suggestion of self-abuse. “Oh,” he says. “Er.”

“Way TMI,” Newt says. “Listen to this line. ‘With the Yamarashi toy inserted into one’s mouth, and the CT2023 inserted up one’s—'”

“Well, how else is one meant to review a masturbatory aid?” Hermann snaps, surprising Newt. He looks oddly flustered. “Details can be—er—helpful. Can’t they?”

“Sure, dude,” Newt snorts. “Except they’re obviously just screwing with people. They literally have a 69 in their username.” He taps at the MathLover69, and doesn’t mention—on behalf of Hermann’s delicate mathematician feelings—that the MathLover part is obviously meant as a joke too.

“Well,” Hermann says. “Perhaps it’s just his—er, their birthdate.”

Newt turns around to stare at Hermann, taking in his red cheeks, his red ears, and the gaze he’s fixed steadily on his shoes. It’s all Newt can do to not to gape at him. “Hermann, you’re kidding,” he says. “Right?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hermann says.

“You didn’t,” Newt says.

“I,” Hermann stammers. “Well—”

“I didn’t even know you—”

“That I what?” Hermann says.

Newt gives a half-shrug. Hermann doesn’t seem the type to engage in any sort of vice, let alone this kind. And especially not with the type of sex toys he apparently gravitates towards. (If Newt was a little bolder, and had a little less shame and care for hygiene, he might ask to check out the Yamarashi, because anatomical inaccuracies aside, wow that sounds awesome.) “I mean, you know,” Newt says. “You’re kinda you. No offense.”

Hermann takes offense. “I am human,” he says. “I am allowed to masturbate, Newton, and I was merely attempting to educate other customers about the—product—with my thoroughness.” He adds, awkwardly, “My review was voted very helpful, as you can see.”

“Okay,” Newt says with a grin. “I get it. Sorry.”

Hermann marches back over to his side of the lab with a scowl. Newt waits until he’s sure Hermann’s not watching him, and is too distracted by muttering angrily under his breath, to bookmark MathLover69’s page of reviews.

It turns out (as Newt revisits the page later that night, in the privacy of his bunk) Hermann buys and reviews a truly staggering amount of dildos and sex toys, and on top of that, has absolutely zero filter behind the wall of anonymity. It’s to the extent that some of his reviews read like goddamn sexts.

It took me three occasions to successfully work myself up to taking in the entire length…

My orgasm was so pleasurable I alarmed my colleague with the noise I made, who believed me to have injured myself…

The highest vibration setting is a bit of a disappointment…

These are excellent for double penetration…

It also turns out Hermann is a veritable sex fiend. Or at least a masturbation fiend. Judging by his reviews alone, Hermann’s purchased more than a dozen different toys in the past three years alone. That’s four a year. One every three months. That’s not even including buttplugs, which (according to other reviews) he sometimes just wears into the lab (“work”) for the hell of it, which Newt isn’t even going to think about right now. How the hell has Hermann kept this much of his life under wraps? When the hell does he have time to jerk off as much as he apparently does? No wonder they never seem to have any fucking funding; all of Hermann’s paychecks are funneled directly into his—well.

Newt recalls the faux-injury incident Hermann mentioned in a comment with mild embarrassment. No wonder Hermann had been so weird and flushed when he opened his door, and made excuses to say bye to him so quickly—Newt just caught him (oh, boy) immediately following the best orgasm of his life. Well, mild embarrassment, and a little more than mild arousal. What Newt would’ve given to have been there five minutes earlier, to watch Hermann in the act of the best orgasm of his life, to maybe even be the one to cause it…

What Newt would give to use Hermann’s fancy-shmancy vibrator on him, or literally anything from his giant masturbatory arsenal. Or even just watch him use it on himself. Hermann’s just so damned buttoned-up and uptight—it’s all about the contradictions. Juxtapositions. Newt unzips his jeans and sticks his hand down his boxers. “Stupid Hermann,” he moans, as he begins to bring himself off to the image of Hermann with that stupid kaiju dildo down his throat and that stupid jaeger vibe up his ass. Negotiator of peace between the two? Stupid joke, stupid Hermann. Or maybe he’s picturing Hermann showing up to the lab, all plugged up and loose from using a different vibe on himself that morning. Or maybe Hermann pushing two dildos into himself at once. How the hell can he even manage that? Ass his size— “Oh, goddamn it,” Newt moans again, and comes all over his hand.

Whatever. It’s not like Hermann’s ever going to find out about this.

[solalunar-eclipse]

Scars You Can’t See -  Chapter 9

Chapter title: Final Blow

Word count: about 4000 words

Author’s Note: This was originally just going to be an apology for posting this chapter a week late, but now. Now @khinesthetic has made this wonderful, amazing piece of fanart for SYCS, so. This chapter is going to be their appreciation chapter. (Also, please check out the rest of their blog for more cool art!)

Warning for another panic attack on Shadow’s part. If I’ve written something badly in that section, please let me know.

First  | Previous  |  Next

...

Rouge paced back and forth in the old, tacky motel room that served as the current residence of Team Dark, the worn carpet muffling the clicking of her boots as she moved.

Shadow watched her through vaguely glazed-over eyes, thinking over the basic rudiments of a plan that the bat had laid out for them for the tenth time. The fortress they had in their sights was less than half an hour away- an easy drive compared to some of their extensive cross-country trips. Omega was given the job of getaway driver, despite his protests...unfortunately, a giant five-foot-tall robot was not exactly equipped for this level of stealth.

The two Mobians, then, would have to sneak into one of the most secure facilities on the planet, hack into some of their most secure files without tripping any alarms or otherwise having anybody notice, download all of those files onto their tablet, also without anyone realizing, and get out of said building alive.

This would have been an easy task, usually- the team would have taken it without reservations had it been an assignment from G.U.N. But now, Shadow and Rouge were both heavily underprepared and undersupplied, to say the absolute least. No briefings, no special equipment, and no backup besides Omega. Just them, their wits, and their powers.

And even assuming they survived and escaped capture on the spot...none of them dared to think about what their lives would be like afterwards, if everything went exactly as planned.

As it was, they had tried to get a full nights’ sleep, but they probably wouldn’t be able to get much more rest time than that if they hoped to stay ahead of G.U.N. and successfully complete the mission. So today was the only day to do it.

Right now, the team was just killing time until late afternoon. They thought (or rather hoped) that the guards would be a little more tired by that point, and if the mission took the right amount of time, they might even be able to escape into the night with relative ease. Rouge had planned it all out on the drive over, and sometimes Shadow was truly impressed by her level of tactical skill- especially since she had never had any sort of formal training throughout her line of work. 

Rouge really knew what she was doing.

As time passed, the team tried their best to remain sharp, but it seemed that even resting could become tiring after a while. Eventually, Omega stood up and looked down at both of them. “I have run some calculations. Your mental faculties will continue to deteriorate at a rapid pace if we remain in this room for much longer. This will in turn lower our possible chances of success. We must leave immediately so that our success rate does not fall further, considering it is already dismally low compared to most of our usual missions.”

Shadow frowned, rubbing his brow. Ordinarily, he would have responded to Omega by now, but at the moment, half of the robot’s words had barely even registered. Yet he shouldn’t even be able to get this tired, let alone suffer such consequences from a week or two on high alert.

“Ugh…” Rouge groaned, hauling herself upright. “Let’s just get this over with. I’m too worn out to worry about this anymore. We just do it, and what happens is what happens.”

“Agreed.” Shadow said simply, still trying to ignore the effects of his weariness.

Omega’s eyes turned into their ‘angry’ shapes, but it didn’t seem to be directed at them. “Your cortisol levels have been far above normal for over a week. This level of exposure is highly unhealthy. We must remedy this as soon as the mission is over.”

“Yeah.” Rouge muttered quietly. “If it’s ever over.”

“Studies show that negative thinking precludes negative results. The reverse is also true, for strange reasons unknown to me, as I am not organic. Cease your pessimistic comments, and we will drive to the G.U.N. Fortress immediately.” Omega said firmly, walking out the door. Shadow vaguely realized that the E-series robot had been taking charge more and more over these past few days, and that he’d also become a lot less...enthusiastic around the same time. 

While the hybrid didn’t know if Omega could be worried, the idea that he might be was just a little bit flattering.

…

The drive there was short, barely enough time for Shadow and Rouge to work themselves up into ‘mission mode’. All of the adrenaline that the former had felt last time was barely present now, replaced by a sort of frazzled sensation that made it feel as though every nerve in his body had been overused until it was barely even functional. 

They parked a long ways away to avoid the notice of its various high-tech security measures and just sat there for a second.

The team had been here so many times for various reasons: meetings, briefings, work parties...but this was going to be the first time they entered it illegally. (Or at least, it would be for Shadow. They both suspected that there wasn’t a well-known building in the country that Rouge hadn’t broken into, for kicks if nothing else.)

The robot left the engine running in case of an emergency, switching on his communicator. “Alert me if there are any problems and I will come help you. I will happily destroy this building for a distraction. Or to find you. Or even just for fun.” 

It seemed that Omega had still retained all of his violent tendencies, at least. 

The two rushed over to the entrance, making sure that the guards wouldn’t see them- a practiced maneuver at this point. Rouge carefully turned the two security cameras so that they faced the sky, all without setting off any alarms.

Shadow tucked himself into the niche that held the metal sliding door while Rouge tapped away on the holographic screen near the doorway. His suspicions about the bat having infiltrated this building in the past were confirmed when she whispered to herself, “Let’s see if the backdoor I left is still there...a-ha!” 

She typed in a code on the keypad: 4-8-6-7-8-9. At this point, the entire system automatically let her in- she even had the highest clearance to go with her fake account. Within moments, the door was unlocked with a quiet ‘whoosh’. (Ordinarily, there would have been at least five different checks to pass after this point to get inside, including fingerprint and retina scans.)

Rouge smirked at him before entering the building. “The code is ‘GUN SUX’, in case you’re wondering.”

Shadow could almost have laughed.

They didn’t need to sneak through the halls as much this time, since Shadow decided that it would be better to utilize a few Chaos Controls to get them past some particularly crowded sections. They couldn’t have made it past the ridiculous amounts of security measures- including automated gun turrets- otherwise. This fortress was one of the most protected places on the planet. There was a reason the President had been held there during the Black Arms invasion.

The twisted tangle of halls was specifically designed to confuse intruders, there were cameras to cover nearly all the blind spots, and guards passed every area by in two minute intervals. The hybrid thanked his lucky stars that he was with Rouge, since she seemed to be aware of every tiny flaw in the system, from a glitchy camera that hadn’t been replaced to which guards tended to slack off. He became more and more impressed with his friend’s skills each time she offered him a set of directions that worked without a hitch.

Once, they were nearly discovered, though. A pair of loud footsteps echoed around the metal corridors, sending both Rouge and Shadow into high alert. Quickly, the bat tugged him into an empty room, tucking them both behind a plain desk and out of sight.

“I guess G.U.N. actually switched up the guards for once, ‘cause this guy always used to be paired with another slacker,” she whispered as they walked by, completely oblivious to the two Mobians less than fifteen feet away. They were completely silent, unlike the guards at the old information warehouse- the fortress was much more important to G.U.N. and required a higher level of training and sophistication to maintain its security.

As soon as their steps had faded, the hybrid teleported them both to Rouge’s next location, which was even deeper in the complex. By now, they were several levels below the ground, but they still needed to travel farther to reach the secure servers that comprised G.U.N.’s major database.

Ordinarily, they would have used the elevator, but those didn’t have keypads, just card scanners. If any of the three had attempted to use their cards (which they wouldn’t have anyway, since the system kept track of who scanned their cards at what time) the entire complex would likely have gone into complete lockdown and they would have failed their mission.

Unfortunately, the excessive teleporting left Shadow’s Chaos stores running low, to say the absolute least. He dropped to his knees the second that they entered the main computer room, panting slightly as he leaned his head against the wall while staying out of sight. “You still gonna be good to take care of the rest, honey?” Rouge asked gently, brushing her fingers through the fur on his head. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to pass out on the floor and remain like this forever, but then he paused, bewildered.

“Why am I so tired? I was literally just resting half an hour ago, and now look at me.” he groaned, looking down at his power inhibitors. He hadn’t had access to a Chaos Emerald in ages, so maybe that was the problem? His fingers brushed over one of the golden rings as he considered taking them off- that would provide him with a boost of power…

“No.” Rouge said decisively, holding his wrist so that he couldn’t release the inhibitor. “I’m not having you passing out on me in the middle of our escape, alright? It’s too risky to do that right now.”

“Either way, I’m going to run out of energy soon- wouldn’t it be better to get some more strength?” Shadow asked, his eyes narrowing. 

She tightened her grip on his wrist briefly to make her point before releasing him. “As much as Omega wants to come in and blow this place up...no. There’s so much more that could go wrong, Shadow, and I’m not willing to risk that.” The bat folded her arms, asserting herself as the one in charge...which she always was.

Shadow glowered, frustrated both with himself and the general circumstances. However, he forced himself to listen to her orders, since she usually knew what she was doing- an impressive sign of respect for him. “In that case, I’ll barely be able to do more than a couple of Chaos Spears. You’ll have to move quickly, Rouge.”

They walked among the stacks of black plastic and tiny flickering lights, searching for one specific computer to link into. Within a minute, the bat had discovered exactly what she was looking for and plugged in a cheap second hand tablet that she’d bought with some more of their spare money.

This tall black piece of hardware was part of a stack all the way at the back of the room, shoved into a corner and covered in dust. It looked completely useless and outdated.

At least, if the viewer wasn’t one who could recognize that these models were actually newer than the rest. The dust, the placement, it was all designed to let the computers pass underneath the average person’s radar and keep G.U.N.’s most secret files under high security, multiple firewalls, and the latest in antivirus technology. 

Rouge, however, was by no means an average person.

Meanwhile, Shadow thanked any member of the pantheon that might be listening that they were getting the job done now. Their resources were running low, so he hoped that after this they could go hide somewhere and get a job to survive. Hiding wasn’t ordinarily his preferred reaction (it had never been his preferred reaction, honestly) but it was starting to sound an awful lot better than the current ball of stress that was his life.

“Alright, we’re in.” Rouge whispered quietly, having used her ‘all-access’ password to enter the system yet again. 

The hybrid peered over her shoulder, curious to see what kind of documents she would discover...only to find that most of it was very confusing, to say the least. There seemed to be no sense of organization, to the point where he could barely tell if it was on purpose or just done badly. As a relatively organized person himself, he quickly grew frustrated by the complete lack of any sort of pattern among the various files.

There was at least one part done purposefully, though, because the folder Rouge wanted to access (labeled ‘requisition forms’ in the middle of a video section...suspicious) was blocked by a passcode. The first two tries- TOWERS and CMNDR- didn’t work. 

The bat closed her eyes and bowed her head. To the untrained eye, she might have seemed like someone in defeat, giving up at the first sign of a struggle.

Shadow knew that she was just trying to focus and tap into her skills.

Eventually, she sighed resolutely. “Let’s give this one a go.” She typed in five familiar letters.

M-A-R-I-A.

It seemed that his sister had touched many lives forever, since it worked. Rouge clicked through a few of the files, her eyes widening with each one. Shadow was certain that his own were equal in size, watching as G.U.N. detained people for weeks without trials, arrested innocents doing perfectly legal things, and pulled many others over on the street and forced them to submit to searches without reason.

In short, hurting ordinary people who they were supposed to protect.

It truly felt as though something sick and twisted had taken root inside of the organization, indeed, that it had been allowed (even encouraged) to spread and grow until it choked the life out of every positive reason that had ever been part of G.U.N.’s founding. All that seemed to be left now was a paranoia-ridden, overly-violent military force with little to no conscience or accountability for its actions.

Eventually, the bat closed the folder, downloading the entire thing onto her device. “Let’s go already!” Shadow hissed, hating the idea of staying a moment longer than was absolutely necessary.

“No.” Rouge whispered. “We end this here. Now. Today.”

Then, she maneuvered the folders into a different part of the server, and smiled bitterly. “They can’t claim it’s faked very well if it comes from them.”

And then the master thief uploaded that entire section of their database onto the Internet, through G.U.N.’s website and every single one of their social media accounts, with one short sentence to accompany it: Doesn’t seem like you’re very good at your job, ‘Guardian Units of Nations’.

Shadow grabbed her by the arm as soon as she finished. “Alright, now come on! We have to go, they’ll figure it out soon enough!”

Rouge logged out and unplugged the tablet, and the two of them rushed to the door and peered out of the glass, waiting until the guards had passed. As they rushed outside, the bat remembered to close the door in absolute silence. Then they hurried down the hall, moving as quickly as they could. Rouge flew and Shadow skated to keep the noise level as low as possible, the faint hiss of Chaos energy and the occasional flap of wings the only sound they made as they ran.

They took basically the same route as before, only using a slightly longer path due to the hybrid’s low energy. It still went well at first, as they kept hidden whenever any guards came near. At any rate, there were no shouts of “intruders!” going off as they rushed upwards, through the halls, and towards the exit.

About halfway up a stairwell, though, several things happened in quick succession.

Alarms began to blare throughout the entire building, and red warning lights began to flash all over. The complex began to go into high alert, although the doors remained open to allow the soldiers to get from one place to another quickly. Although the two former agents couldn’t see it, they knew that all important rooms (including the main server area) would have a set of steel guards placed over them by now, so it was good that they had already completed most of their mission. “How did they figure it out that fast?” Rouge gasped, startled. 

That was when they heard the stomping of guards entering the stairwell, heading downwards towards the computer rooms- and their position.

Shadow stumbled on the stairs, the alarms and lights and those sounds triggering his most horrible memory of all. The raid on the ARK had already been brought forcibly to the surface recently, so it was still a particularly raw spot for him. He faintly felt his friend clasp his arm and begin to drag him forward and up, trying to keep him safe despite the walls of his own mind closing in around him. Remembering that he had to flee, the thought across both past and present situations of get out get out get out RIGHT NOW powered him enough to hold on back and even begin to pull her along.

A pair of guards heard him stumbling on the stairwell and began to fire at them as they ran, forcing the two to dodge bullets as they rushed up the stairs. Rouge flew the hedgehog directly up a level of steps before letting him drop and hit the stairwell running, since they didn’t have enough time for her to properly set him down. The gunfire only added to Shadow’s confusion- that and the dark metal walls of the next hall left him blinking and dazed, struggling to recall where he was...or when he was.

This...this is the Fortress, right? No...but that wiring on the walls…

He grabbed someone’s hand- Maria? Rouge? didn’t matter, he had to keep her safe either way- and rushed faster, faster, through the halls and up more stairs, dodged the gunfire, kept running- look there are some doors, why are there doors on the ARK? It looks like Mobius outside- doesn’t matter- we have to get out so let’s go-

They burst through the double doors, Shadow breaking the sound barrier as he did so while Rouge tried to ride the air currents he created as well as she could. It took all of her strength just to cling to his hand so that she wouldn’t be completely blown away by the force of his movement. 

Shadow vaguely heard the screech of car tires and heard Omega shout “I AM ON MY WAY. RUN.” as they blew past him.

His heart was pounding in his chest and his ears and he felt too hot and he could barely breathe, but he had to keep going. His legs were shaking but he pushed onwards through the difficulties, barely even thinking. 

He couldn’t even see the mountains or the sea. His entire world was just the ground ahead of him and the hand in his own.

He had to run.

Eventually, Shadow heard a whirring noise, turning his head to see a helicopter bearing down on them in the sky. The sight of something even more obviously impossible on the ARK than the doors or the grass shook him out of his confused memories slightly, only to leave him out of focus and disoriented. 

Figure it out later, right now you have to move!

Bullets began to spatter across the grass, blasting from double machine guns mounted on the helicopter, and he heard Rouge- yes, it was Rouge, not Maria- yell something along the lines of “What the actual hell?!”.

Shadow didn’t want to know how anyone had ever decided that chasing down two rogue agents, one of whom could break the speed of sound, with a helicopter spraying the entire area with deadly, aerodynamic pieces of steel was the right way to get them back. Or the smart way, honestly. Already, the helicopter’s fuel was running low, considering that their engine had to be supercharged to keep up even for this long.

He rushed into the nearby woods as it fell back, not stopping until they reached the base of the mountains nearby. They crouched underneath a rocky overhang, and Shadow slowly worked to come back to himself fully.

He had escaped with his companion this time…

His unfocused eyes slowly blinked and he shook his head slowly, trying to drive the lingering images from his head. “I’m here, hon, I’m here.” Rouge said softly, and his ears twitched, trying to shake the nagging feeling that this entire situation should be completely different.

“I gotcha, Shadow, but we’re going to have to move eventually...I can hear them starting a search party.” She scoffed. “Stupid of them to be so loud when they’re hunting a bat.”

The hybrid took one deep breath, and then another. “I’ll be alright.” he said quietly, his unwanted thoughts finally receding into the background enough to allow him to focus. He saw Rouge smile at him faintly, squeezing his shoulder once before giving him some space.

A minute or two later, a stick snapped to their left, and both of the highly skilled, rigorously trained Mobians shrieked (in an impressively high register for Shadow especially) and whirled around, ready to fight. Both relaxed, though, upon seeing that it was only Omega, who in turn gave them a quick once-over. “You are both a mess and G.U.N. will be here at any moment. They will begin to sweep this area soon and we must be far away when they do so.”

“Where do we go now?” Shadow asked quietly, his mental capacity strained nearly to its limit.

“Somewhere. Anywhere out of the way, where we can hide out until things quiet down.” Rouge sighed, her eyes downcast.

None of them were looking forward to what came next- a long wait until G.U.N. gave up searching for them, cut off from all of their friends, where they couldn’t go by their real names or enjoy their usual pastimes….

….and that was if they were lucky.

They got back into their car, again, and set off down the highway, again, looking for a place to hide.

Again.

(Shadow was tired of hiding. Sometimes he found himself wondering, as Rouge kept an eye out for nothing more than a sheltered area to pull their car into for the night, if it wouldn’t be better to just give up entirely...but the sheer idea of G.U.N. winning, especially of being put back into stasis, was too horrifying for him to bear.)

He’d rather suffer a lifetime of fear and of looking over shoulders if it meant he could spend it with Rouge and Omega than return to the endless frozen quiet of a stasis pod.

And as they pulled into the woods and began to cover their car with a decent amount of brush and leaves many hours and two states later, he almost felt a sort of resigned peace. Knowing that they had done what was right and that he would get to be with his two closest friends for a while longer was...not bad, all things considered. Sighing, he lay back in his chair, one hand linked with Rouge’s and Omega’s hand resting next to his ears.

They could hide together, at least.

…

In the morning, he woke up to shouting.

“This is the Guardian Units of Nations! Surrender peacefully or we fire!”

Rouge stared at him, her eyes wide.

Shadow was frozen in place- he didn’t think he could have moved had he tried.

Oh, chaos.

[redhawtriot]

Operation Unvirgin (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I had this idea the other day that Bakugou probably would be super celibate. Like he is very goal oriented and doesn't like to attach himself to others, so I feel like he wouldn't have ever bothered with girls or even beat his meat or anything (the shit’s fucking perverted okay?! how could any decent person touch themselves?)

But he hears that Deku is boutta get laid and he gets pissed bc WHAT? That loser is gonna beat him in something?! So he goes on a mission to loose his virginity before Deku. 

So I wrote the NSFW piece of this and it was UTTER GARBAGE, but I know that many of you guys are writers so think of this as a very informal request: Anyone can write the second half of this and tag me and I will repost it (except no non-con plz). It doesn’t matter how long it is.

If this completely flops I will ... sigh... post my shitty NSFW next week... (But please spare me and yourselves from that outcome) 

HnM💕

Bakugou never could understand all the hype surrounding the opposite sex.

The blond man would wrack his brain as he tried to remember the exact moment where his fellow peers stopped looking at girls like the enemy and started looking at them like walking deities, mindlessly floating behind them as if an invisible scent enchanted their spirits. Sometimes he felt like a lone soldier in sustaining self-respect.

In his isolated state, he only watched in disgust as freaks like Mineta and Kaminari drooled over women and reduced themselves into warm bodied zombies in the presence of a vagina. Pathetic.

He would never in a million years let a woman rule over him. He had seen how his hag of a mother treated his father, and he would rather stick his face in a vat of acid than have his soul belong to someone like that.

His stupid mom always told him that he would probably meet someone in high school that would change his mind, but there he was, the night after graduation, victorious in his pursuit of staying the fuck away from crazy broads like her.

In fact, this ridiculous graduation party that Kirishima had dragged him to was probably the last time he would see most of these extras, since he doubted many of them would make it past being D-listers or side-kicks—and that was him being generous.

The colorful beams of light took turns fading in and out of the dark room as the heavy bass of multiple speakers pounded into his body, sending a flurry of vibrations in his abdomen. Although, Bakugou would never admit this out loud, he actually enjoyed this scenery. The stomping of the music reminded him a lot of his own quirk and the lights weren’t completely hideous.

Yeah, as long as no one at this shitty party tried to talk to him or get on his nerves he would be just fine—

“Baku-brooooo!”

God Dammit.

“Hey, dude!” Kaminari threw a sloppy arm over the angrier blond’s shoulders as Kirshima, Deku and Mina all followed behind him through the dense party crowd. Now, if this had been two years ago, Kaminari just might have found himself short an appendage through an explosive altercation; however, throughout his high school career, Bakugou found that simply ignoring the idiots was usually enough to deter them from trying to converse with him.

So Bakugou swallowed the increasing rage that was bubbling in his throat and simply scoffed instead, swatting the man’s arm away from him and turning his back on him and his incoming entourage. Kaminari only laughed in response, “C’mon bro we are officially graduates! Ditch the bad boy act and loosen up a little—we are men now! Just ask Midoriya!” he slyly suggested.

The sound of his rival’s name piqued his interest, yet the stubborn man still refused to give the short-circuited idiot the satisfaction of knowing such a thing, so he continued to glare away from him as Izuku spoke up, “N-no it’s nothing really… Uraraka and I have just been together for a while. Honestly, I don’t even know if I will go for it. I don’t wanna be a jerk or anything bringing it up to her! Forget I said anything at all, actually!” the young man frantically waved his hands as his face became obviously red even in the dimly lit atmosphere.

Mina snickered as her hands found their way to her hips “The shy guy act is cute and all Midoriya, but every girl wants confidence in bed! I am sure she wouldn’t mind if the two of you at least talked about it,” she bumped the green haired boy with her hips as Bakugo furrowed his eyebrows even deeper.

Kirishima was the next to speak up “GO for it, man! There worst that can happen is that she’ll say no!” he heavily patted the concerned Izuku’s back, “But the manliest thing for you to do is respect her boundaries,” he quickly added in.

The green haired man shook his head at the ground, “I should have just kept my big mouth shut...”

“She won’t say no,” Mina sang with a mischievous expression drawn across her face.

The three boys turned their attention to her with confused glances before Kaminari spoke up, “C’mon Mina! You know something don’t you? Spill it!” he begged.

Mina looked as if she were contemplating for only a moment before he gestured for the men to come closer, “Don’t tell her I told you, but…” she trailed off for dramatic effect, “She was totally gonna try to seduce you tonight, Midoriya!!” She winked. Bakugou’s ears perked up at this statement,

“WhAT?” both him and Izuku cried out.

Kaminari and Kirishima laughed at the blond’s outburst, “So you were listening after all, huh Bakugou?” the latter questioned.

“What do you think of the situation, buddy?” Kaminari leaned into the explosive man with a smirk.

“I’m not your damn buddy,” Bakugou bumped the electrical dumbass away from him, “I think you idiot perverts need to stop worrying about whose panties you’re gonna fail getting into and worry about not being able to keep food on your fucking plates when your careers flop!” he barked as the four blinked in surprise at his sudden outburst.

Kaminari saw this as the perfect opportunity to mess with him, “Bakugou are you… a virgin?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“MIND YOUR OWN DAMN BUSINESS, PIKACHU,” the man under interrogation screeched.

“He totally is!” Kaminari threw his hands up in feign shock, causing Mina to giggle.

Izuku awkwardly shifted on the balls of his feet as Kiri loudly spoke up, “Hey guys, it’s not manly to butt into another man’s personal life like that.”

Bakugou ignored his defender and continued screaming at dumb and dumber through the loud music, “S-Shut the hell up!” his face was dusted in a light shade of red as he spoke. He tried to shake these foreign feelings of embarrassment away. So fucking what if he was a virgin?

“Deku still ain’t shit! Who fucking cares if he’s gonna get his dick dirty?! I could fuck any of these bimbos!” he loudly called out, causing a few girls crowding the area to throw him wary glances before they cautiously moved away. The group of friends noticed this and Kamari and Mina failed miserably at stifling their laughs at the scene.

“It’s ‘make love to’, dude…” Kirishima quietly correct his angry friend in a feeble attempt to save his future endeavors with women.

“NO. FUCK! I said what I meant dammit!” he yelled as he once again fought away the redness on his face, “I could fuck any one of these bitches within an inch of their life!” he furiously vowed.

“Any, huh?” Mina questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s what I fucking said, Raccoon eyes!”

“Then how about…” the yellow irises scanned the dense room for a moment before a smile split her face. She happily pointed a finger, “that one!”

Bakugou followed her finger through the crowd and found you on the other side of the room. The fading lights intermittently illuminated your features, but he knew exactly who you were— Y/N L/N.  The only other person at U.A. known for being just as proud as himself if not more. Also known for having a slough of men on your heels at any given moment, but not giving a single one of them any significant time of day.

Mina snickered at Bakugou’s sudden silence, causing him to throw a glare at her. He fought of any creeping feeling of disheartened as he began a march toward your dancing figure, “Fucking easy” he roughly hyped himself up before approaching you.

“Hey,” he barked roughly. It didn’t really come off as much of a greeting and had more of a threatening tone to it, but in your shocked state you could only offer a half-hearted smile at the daunting man before returning to the conversation that you were having with your friends.

However, after a while, you noticed that your friends were distracted as their scared eyes kept darting behind you. He was still there wasn’t he?

You rolled your eyes before throwing a glare in his direction, “Do you fucking want something, dickhead?” you snapped.

“I SHOULD—” he began to threaten but he clamped his mouth shut and bottled up his feelings of rage from being disrespected before he continued, “You…” he barked, an unfamiliar feeling of uncertainty gripping at his chest, “I want you,” he said sternly. He had heard Kaminari say some stupid shit like this before and it worked. If it worked for an idiot like him then surely—

Bakugou’s thoughts were cut off as you simply threw your head back in a fit of laughter before turning your back to him to converse with your friends again, “Anyway,” you loudly began before beginning to talk to you friends again.

Bakugou’s face contorted in aghast uncertainty before he looked back to his classmates. Kaminari was giving him a thumbs down, Mina was giggling like crazy, Kirishima was beaming him a reassuring smile and Deku was no where to be found. Fuck! he probably went off to find Uraraka!

The thought set a competitive fire in his chest as he looked back toward you, “Let’s--“ he stopped himself to re-frame his approach. He thought of the words of encouragement that shitty hair might give him in this moment,

‘Treat her like a queen!’ ‘Ladies love a man with a code! Don’t tell her what to do, ask her!’

“Do... you want to dance,” he forced himself to ask through slightly gritted teeth. This was utterly humiliating.

“You think you can handle it?” you joked through a small smirk before eyeing him up and down. The man only averted his glare from you in response as he scowled at a nearby wall. You gave a small laugh at the display. It was almost childish how he was acting.

You suddenly noticed the red tint that was adorning his cheeks, sending a wave of excitement throughout your body. A sudden predacious urge clutched your abdomen at the sight.

“Okay,” you smiled after wetting your lips. You leaned into him before grabbing his forearm and leading him deep into the hot pool of dancing bodies. He stiffly followed after you.

If he thinks he can handle it then you’ll just have to show him how wrong he is...

[ariainstars]

Ben Solo - A Sad Star Wars Story

Warning: longer post. (And possibly, a few unpopular opinions.)

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

For a start: I’m not here to say I like how the sequels ended with Episode IX, in particular the way they handled their protagonist.

It sucked, to say the least.

I am writing this because looking back now, I can hardly imagine how the authors could have wrapped up the sequel trilogy with the happy ending we expected.

Let’s start with that word: happy. Honestly, did anyone want Ben to be “happy” with what Rey has become? I did expect her to fall down the rabbit hole. We repeatedly have witnessed how aggressive and judgmental she is; and by all logic, she had to meet her own Dark Side in order to realize that she has no right to judge the man she first knew as Kylo Ren. The moment I heard Palpatine’s evil laugh in the first trailer, I figured he had come to pursue Rey, not him. Unfortunately, her moment of shock was short and she hardly learned from it; if anything, since Luke sent her right back into the battle. This scene may have been what fanbros expected from Luke, but honestly, it was ridiculous. It did not fit to The Last Jedi’s Luke and it did not do Rey any favor.

And: had Ben emerged victoriously, found his happy ending, how would the title “The Rise of Skywalker” be justified? He is a Skywalker by blood, but in fact he is a Solo.

  Wrapping Up the Saga

The sequels were received with mixed feelings from the start. Fans of old were angry at The Force Awakens since it seemed to say that history was repeating itself; that the heroes or the original trilogy had brought down the Empire but not managed to preserve peace. We saw them separated from one another as they once had been, disillusioned and worn out. Not the mention the wasp’s nest that was raised by The Last Jedi! If the Prequel Trilogy dismantled the illusion that the Jedi were perfect, the Sequel Trilogy definitively does the same with the Skywalker family. Both messages are clear for everyone to see, provided one is ready and willing to see them.

If Star Wars is a tale with a moral - and given its approach and the fact that it was handed over by Lucas to Disney of all studios it is - then the authors are trying since the 80ies to teach our minds to a compassionate approach on both villains and heroes. One of the main reasons why many fans dislike the prequels is that they expected to see the Jedi and Anakin / Vader being cool; they felt let down by witnessing the Jedi’s narrow-mindedness and Anakin’s strong emotionality. The affronted reactions to The Last Jedi were on the same line of thought. The prequels showed that the Jedi were not the good guys, and for the observant viewer this is already clear enough in the original trilogy. But it was only with The Last Jedi that the elephant in the room was finally approached.

Through Rey, The Rise of Skywalker makes clear that wanting to be a Jedi does not entail actual heroism but the conviction of being a hero. And Rey’s dyad in the Force, the tragic figure of Ben Solo, warns about the dangers coming from a child and teenager no one believed in as a person because everybody only saw his powerful potential.

The Jedi’s Failure

Neither Luke nor Anakin nor Rey needed the Jedi in order to become heroes. They already were good-hearted, brave and idealistic when we first met them. The Jedi ways did not make any of them happy; they learned to use their powers and employed them for short-lived “victories”, but they never found lasting peace.

Not a few fans have wondered how Luke Skywalker, who believed in his father despite all, could give up on his nephew that fatal night (even if it was only a moment of panic). Simply put: as strong and mature as he is by the time of Return of the Jedi, Luke suffers from a father trauma, and he desperately wishes for Vader to become Anakin again, his father, who used to be a hero. When he asks Vader to leave and come with him, it is not out of pure idealism but also a personal request. But Luke did not need his nephew. The moment he had at the temple was a personal issue, it had little to do with Ben’s strength in the Force or his status as Luke’s model student: Luke was afraid that Ben would be the end of everything he loved. Luke, Leia and Han were thrown together by a trauma bonding; Ben had no place with them because he hadn’t been through the same.

The actual tragedy in Ben Solo’s life was the bitter realization, over and over, that he was not needed by anyone (except for being abused, e.g. by Snoke). Ben desired Rey even before he had met her because she was powerful but unexperienced, and he hoped to find sense and belonging by protecting and instructing her. No wonder Rey’s rejection in the Throne Room drove him out of his mind with rage: it was another confirmation of what he had experienced all his life - that people can do without him. So he decided, bitterly and sullenly, that he could do without others as well. But over and over, he had to realize that he could not escape his want for connection. He kept hunting for Rey; and he was very conflicted both when it came to his father and his uncle, letting on that he did have an emotional connection with both of them although he didn’t want to accept it.

Ben’s tragedy was that he did not want to be special at all, and that contrarily to his uncle and grandfather he was aware of it. Ben simply wanted to belong somewhere.

It is an intrinsic part of the saga that a hero is never a hero “because he is superior to others for… reasons”: Star Wars does not bow to that cliché. Some people are born with the capacity to tap into the Force, but not all of the saga’s heroes have it. The morally good qualities a person has, the right decisions they make are not inborn but passed on, learned, communicated. In A New Hope Luke was saved by Han, to whom he had offered companionship and set an example by trying to save Leia. In Return of the Jedi Vader was won over by his son’s loyalty and sacrifice. For an average action film hero, this kind of attitude or outcome of his adventures would be unacceptable: a hero is expected to be triumphant, not saved by someone else. And I know enough fans who don’t understand Luke and prefer Han or Vader to him, who are both cooler and more predictable.

In film, where characters need to be introduced to the audience within the scope of minutes, narratives are applied in a way that the general audience gets them quickly. The downside is that this goes at the expense of nuances. Fans don’t like to see Anakin being passionate and stormy because as Darth Vader he was coded as brutal but cool; they don’t get Obi-Wan’s many mistakes because he was coded as a hero, or Yoda’s arrogance due to his status as a wise old mentor. The sequels brought this dichotomy to a new level coding Rey as the heroine although she has a bad attitude and comes from bad blood, and Ben Solo as the villain when his attitude is conflicted at worst, and who is the offspring of the original story’s heroes. The difference lies in their intentions - hers are good, his are bad. This is interesting because it makes us, the audience, question ourselves as to how and why we believe we can tell good from evil.

You could probably say into a megaphone that the Jedi are not the good guys who always win, that the Force is not a superpower belonging only to the Jedi and that there is no simple Dark and Light but that the Force needs balance: some viewers will never get it. I guess everybody feels the saga’s subtext on a subconscious level; but woe betide if someone like Rian Johnson brings it up to the surface for everyone to see.

  Narrative Key

One of the main reasons why The Last Jedi is so divisive is, I think, that its major theme connecting all of the others is communication. While the prequels told much about miscommunication or lack thereof, Episode VIII is packed full of beautiful examples of what happens when people actually manage to communicate; and even when they do not, they learn from their misunderstanding one another (e.g. Poe with Admiral Holdo).

It is a common but major mistake not to question the narrative key to a story. Many Star Wars fans believe the story is simply about the good guys defeating the bad guys, so they overlook the deeper themes of the saga and respond with outrage when the authors try to humanize their heroes, bringing them down from their alleged pedestal. It is e.g. helpful to know Joseph Campbell’s monomyth theory; to consider that a film saga is not the same as a TV show and that therefore if the characters go through changes these must be significant from one instalment to the next due to the time limitations; to watch a few films by Akira Kurosawa, in particular The Hidden Fortress, to understand the significance of a major event seen through different eyes; or consider the prequels’ parallels with legends, classic literature, or the Bible - Lucifer’s fall, Romeo and Juliet, the tales of King Arthur. Star Wars is a conglomeration of many narratives, from Western films to the Japanese to French fairy tales to Greek mythology to Shakespearean drama. Who approaches these films expecting mere “action” is bound to be disappointed. It is understandable, however, that if you are used to certain kinds of stories, you will assume that every story should basically follow the same lines, and you will have difficulties accepting anything that is different, or believe it’s just badly made.

I still remember the (sometimes vicious) quarrels I followed in an online forum a few years ago about a Japanese mecha anime who some fans by hook or crook wanted to fit into the structure of a French novel. Of course, those two narratives don’t fit together: no wonder most of the other fans didn’t accept that kind of interpretation.

The Phantom of the Opera’s film version of 2004 was largely a failure both with regard to quality and audience appreciation because it made a tacky Byronic romance of a story that actually is a mystery thriller, probably expecting that it would be more appealing that way. What the filmmakers accomplished was making the story flat and the characters annoying by stripping them of the drama behind the original story.

Filming Rebecca’s film version from 1940 Hitchcock managed the transition excellently maintaining the storyline of the original novel; but Daphne duMaurier’s book is a coming-of-age story, and who expects a crime thriller may feel irritated by the narrators’ meandering and detailed inner monologue.

Game of Thrones also could not culminate in “all’s well that ends well”. The last season was not well-made, but I think now that was not the whole reason behind the audience’s disappointment. The show always was very crude and included loads of horrific events; even the worst victims of the war, who seemed to have a justification for their actions and seemed well-meaning, at times did terrible things. It would be a misfit to apply a happy ending to a “sex and violence” narrative as with another martial epic, like Aeneid and Iliad. Who waits for happy endings ought to avoid this kind of story from the start. (Yes, I know, I should listen to my own advice - had I imagined how depressing Rogue One is, Star Wars fan or not, I would probably have skipped it.)

Stories of this kind can be dissatisfying because as an audience, we follow our heroes’ adventures, sometimes for years, and we usually want to see them to find their happiness in the end. But in all honesty: we should have imagined.

That is why I think it was naïve to believe that the sequel trilogy would lead Ben to a happy ending with Rey. I have read more than one fanfiction which irritated me at first, until I realized that they were told on the lines of Fifty Shades of Grey, or Pride and Prejudice. That may work well for a fanfiction, but Star Wars is not a mere romance. Even if there was a hint of the overture to Romeo and Juliet during the abduction: couples based on that trope are not destined to end well. I myself was hoping for a happy ending due to the fact that the saga’s rights were in the hands of Disney of all production companies; and giving that the Skywalker family is one of the most famous in pop culture, I was certain they wouldn’t wipe them out. However I was not quite sure how they would do that and make it convincing, and I was wary when it came to the assumption (which many Reylo’s took for granted) that the love between Rey and Ben would be strong enough to save the galaxy and give them a happy ever after.

When a guy is introduced by murdering a defenseless old man, letting an entire village be wiped out with practiced ease, going on with torturing another guy both physically and mentally and climaxing with the horrible crime of patricide, one can hardly expect a happy ever after for him; even less since so very little was explained in terms of his childhood and adolescence. Some viewers identified with Ben Solo and saw his abandonment and abuse issues; many others didn’t, and none of the sequel films really thematized them. That he made peace with his parents and died to save the girl he loved is sufficient for a convincing redemption arc, not to offer him a happy closure.

  The Trope That Comes Closest

There were a lot of speculations with regard to the trope Ben (Kylo) and Rey were actually modelled on. Romeo and Juliet, Hades and Persephone, Pride and Prejudice or Beauty and the Beast, and there were probably more. Rian Johnson is known for loving The Phantom of the Opera more than any other musical. I don’t think that’s coincidental.

- The phantom is disfigured by birth, Ben is extremely powerful by birth; and Ben also gets disfigured by Rey during their duel. (Vader’s sunken, charred face under the mask was, for a long time, how I imagined the phantom unmasked by the way.) - The phantom is highly intelligent and has huge musical talent. Ben was born with a strong power in the Force. - Both wear masks and look much less threatening without them. They also wear a cloak, and black clothes. - The phantom had committed terrible crimes both to protect himself and to punish a world which would not accept him. Sounds familiar? - In the musical we do not get to know how he became a ruthless monster in the first place. Ditto. - The phantom dies (or disappears, in the musical) because only the girl knew that he was lonely and unhappy and that he still had goodness inside him. She had forgiven him, but the rest of the world wouldn’t have believed her or forgiven him.

Both Kylo Ren and the Phantom are creatures who are at the same time terrible and wonderful. The normal world, populated by average people, cannot accept them because they are both too fascinating and too terrifying. In order to find lasting fulfilment, Ben ought to have found back to humanness. The phantom couldn’t due to his disfigurement and his criminal past; and though Ben loses the scar on his face, the Cain’s mark of the patricide he committed, his deed and his former status as Supreme Leader of the First Order never would have been forgotten.

“Yet in his eyes all the sadness of the world Those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore…” Christine in The Phantom of the Opera (on the rooftop)

  Heroes: Dynamic and Static Characters

A general rule of storytelling is differentiating between dynamic and static (also called “impact”) characters. A static character is like an anchor for others: while they live through crises, learning and maturing, this character always remains his old self and always stands for the same values. He may be misunderstood, opposed and belittled, he may lose the battle, but never the war; and after having helped others through their troubles, he usually is on his own. (Cue: cowboy riding into the sunset.)

Superman stands for peace and justice, Jack Sparrow for freedom, Peter Pan for the innocence of childhood, Paddington for faith in people’s goodness. No wonder they are so popular: it is familiar and reassuring to follow the adventures of someone who is always like a rock in a storm. Static characters are in essence childlike, two-dimensional; which is probably why our child self easily gets attached to them and may be outraged at the idea of them changing, or maybe (gasp) being wrong about something.

But George Lucas developed his saga along the lines of personal growth, and by exploring its themes: thankfully, otherwise it would have become as boring and repetitive as so many other franchises. To continue a story you can either make it dynamic, or press the repeat button over and over. The Skywalker men with their strong emotionality may be unusual heroes, but much more interesting than other, “cooler” guys whose actions are more or less foreseeable. So, I can understand the Disney studio’s choices. On the other hand, it is not surprising when fans of old get angry when their supposedly unalterably perfect heroes make mistakes: everybody wants to know that some things (or persons) never change. Even if on the long run, change might be for the better.

I think one of the sequels’ most important messages was that the Skywalker-Organa-Solo family failed their heir precisely because their mindset did not change. Ben grew up in another world than they did; obsolete political structures, dictatorship or rebellions did not matter to him. But his family wanted him to adhere to the ideals that had gotten them through the war against the Empire, discouraging him from searching and finding his own place in the world, a world that now was very different both from the old Republic and the Empire.

Whether a static or dynamic character is more relatable to the audience is a personal matter. Many fans adore Darth Vader, Leia and Han Solo etc. precisely for the fact that basically they always remain their old selves. Padmé also is a favorite, probably due to the fact that she does not change considerably. Anakin changes a lot, which is perceived as a sign of weakness. Some fans may relate more to Luke, who undergoes serious trials and emerges from them stronger and wiser, far away from the greenhorn he was in A New Hope. And yet Luke’s final decision to throw his weapon away before Palpatine is often perceived as weird to this day. It’s not “heroic”.

The outraged fans who ranted at Luke’s portrayal in The Last Jedi did not realize that Luke was doing something both Obi-Wan and Yoda, or the other Jedi for that matter, never had done: he took responsibility for his actions. In this context Ben was the audience’s self-insert, he was as appalled at Luke’s misstep as we were. Such a blow is enough to send someone on a lonely island to meditate about his mistakes for years, convinced that the world is better without him.

But for the action film audience, that is not acceptable. If you have a light sabre and the Force (an alleged superpower), what do you need responsibility for? You can’t do wrong if you’re the hero, right? Luke also was the only character from the original trilogy who underwent character growth, which makes it all the more ironic that the many, many critics who tear the sequels to pieces are fuming at how Luke could be so “defiled”. Luke grew beyond the person he had been in A New Hope; these fans obviously did not. Which is why the studios thought they had to produce The Rise of Skywalker in order to “appease” them and to give them the Luke Skywalker they wanted.

  Where Does the Galaxy Go From Here?

A conversation between my husband and me, about a year before The Rise of Skywalker came out.

Me: “I hope Ben Solo will survive at the end of the trilogy.” Him: “I do hope that, too. But they won’t give him a happy ending.” Me: “Why?” Him: “He killed his own father.”

I hate to admit it, but he was right. I’m not aware what ethics code is under use in the film industry now, but in any case, the horrible crime of patricide was done; even if it was under coercion, the son traumatized by it, and it ultimately brought him back to redemption. You can’t make a patricide, the former right hand and for a time leader of a terrorist organization a hero and give him a happy ending; in particular when you are Disney of all film studios. (Not to mention that he killed Han Solo, a very popular character.) And from exchanges with other viewers I am aware that many do not understand how Ben killed Han under Snoke’s coercion, and the implications that led him to kill Snoke: they believe he simply did it because it’s something an evil, power-hungry person will do.

Ben dying without anyone knowing that he was not a villain at heart and worse, leaving the fates of the galaxy in the hands of a young woman whom we often saw giving in to evil influences again and again within the scope of minutes was a dangerous turn. If he was but “a child in a mask”, Rey is a child who believes to be a Jedi. How is Rey supposed to be a heroine, with the other half of her soul gone? She and Ben fitted together perfectly because she had the good intentions but a violent attitude, while his intentions were bad but his attitude desperately conflicted because inherently good. Rey came from evil blood but was kind-hearted because she believed in her parent’s love. Ben was the heir of a family of heroes but did not feel loved by them, which made him lonely and bitter. What good is Rey on her own, even more so when at the end of Episode IX she deliberately leaves her friends and goes to a literal desert? The little girl inside of her is still starving for connection, and neither being a Jedi nor a “Skywalker” will appease her. She had to meet Luke to realize that he was a good man but still just a man; a lesson she didn’t quite internalize yet. The sequel trilogy wasn’t her story because her personality hardly developed. It was Ben who went through hell and back.

Films (and film sagas) have a determined length and as a film studio you need time to explore all themes, which in Star Wars are quite complex. The worst mistake I found with Episode IX was that it broke the Campbellian monomyth in favor of a Marvel type B-movie to appease the fans of old who had hated The Last Jedi. Which is understandable from their point of view, but went at the expense of quality. The Rise of Skywalker may have quenched the fire a little, but as a film, it’s frankly forgettable, and compared to the other films from the saga, I doubt that it will age well. Had the sequel trilogy continued Rian Johnson’s approach instead of putting a band-aid on The Last Jedi, it would have been good enough to make a cultural impact the way the classics did. If the sequel trilogy was meant to follow The Hero’s Journey, no one completed it: Ben died and Rey went into exile, and no one brought any kind of elixir or salvation into the world.

All of this is not to say that I have grown to like The Rise of Skywalker and that I am not disappointed about the ending, or no longer sad about Ben Solo’s death. I hope that the next trilogy will give him a second chance: I am still convinced that his ultimate fate should have been to bring lasting Balance to the Force. If I am wrong and his existence practically cancelled the past without improving anything, the whole saga loses its sense. I think that by now he atoned more than enough for his sins.

When I learned that Rian Johnson had negotiated his own trilogy after The Last Jedi, I remember wondering what it would be about. After all, almost everything had been said about the Skywalker saga, hadn’t it?

It hadn’t. I had naively assumed that like with Episodes III and VI, the final revelations were preserved for Episode IX. By now it seems to me like The Rise of Skywalker is meant as an appetizer for the next sequel. It can’t be that the studios unlearned how to make good films in so short a time after The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi, also considering that everything else they made about Star Wars in between (Rogue One, Solo, The Mandalorian) is solid work and not by a long shot as flat as Episode IX.

The studios assuredly will keep their secrets as long as they can. The Mandalorian was met with huge expectations, yet nobody knew about Baby Yoda before the first episode was aired. Due to their depth and love for details, Star Wars films can be watched and discussed over and over, and the message regarding the necessity of Balance is still widely unknown or not accepted by the fans. If this is supposed to be not only an entertaining but also an educational tale, authors must give new fans room to get to know the saga, and old fans time to let the new ideas sink in. Lucas and his collaborators have taken decades trying to teach us that morals are not black and white. But still when The Last Jedi came out, the message was utterly hated.

Whatever Johnson’s trilogy will be about, it can’t be a part of the Skywalker saga any more: they are all dead. Even if Ben is brought back somehow, he is a Solo, so this time it would be the story of his own family. The Skywalker saga was basically Anakin’s, and by reconciling with a Palpatine and giving his life to save the woman he loved his grandson ultimately made up for his sins. The Last Jedi was a bold move; but what are “bold moves” supposed to be good for if they are not followed through? Apart from the fact that the sequels weren’t even exactly bold but drawing sums from what we already could see in original trilogy and prequels about the Jedi and the old Republic.

  Family Is the Key

Star Wars is a family tale. It is for families and it is about families. One of the most frustrating things about The Rise of Skywalker was, for me, that the “new” heroes didn’t make any kind of home or family of their own; and a Star Wars film or series never works without a father figure at its heart. I am sure Ben Solo was ultimately meant to be a father figure; the sequels couldn’t work without even giving him the chance to be one. Anakin and Luke both founded a family - one through marriage, the other befriending many different people. The third generation did not even get a chance either way.

“I believe that you are redeemed by your children.” George Lucas

In Star Wars, children always have to pay for their parent’s sins, and only they can make them atone. Which makes it all the more tragic that Ben is not a father; by this logic, only his child could have saved him, or an adopted one. On seeing the enslaved children of Canto Bight, of whom one is Force-sensitive, I was convinced that the sequels would be the children’s trilogy. (I might have accepted Ben dying had he saved and left them with Rey, who also is an abandoned child and so would have found a meaningful task.)

What the galaxy needs most are not heroes but people. Heroes exist to save desperate situations; lasting peace can only be made by normal people. With Luke becoming a hero in the original trilogy and Anakin a villain in the prequels, I was expecting Ben to find back to humanness. Since we have another trilogy to look forward to, I do still hope Ben will get another chance and this time he will find his happiness; but I also believe that he will have a long way to go before that. By the end of The Rise of Skywalker he is a hero, but in order to be happy he would need to learn how to be fully human, realigning both sides of his personality and healing the gap between them (the way Anakin couldn’t). And you don’t learn how to embrace your humanness quickly after having lost it within the scope of years and years. Ben wanted Rey because she was the only person in the galaxy with whom he could be completely honest. But being human also entails bonding with other people, not only with one’s significant other.

Ben tried to pull off the “bad guy” role and failed because it’s not in his nature. A lot of fans see him as a loser, because whether good or evil, a male protagonist is supposed to be always unfazed. The gentle, nurturing and emphatic personality that comes out in Ben when he is balanced is not that of a warmonger but of a peacekeeper: I see nothing inacceptable or emasculating in that. Unfortunately, who has Luke, Anakin or Han as blueprints for “real” men, won’t accept someone like Ben Solo. I hope that in time, he will be more appreciated, and that his life story will be a warning both for the audience and for the saga itself, i.e. that it is more to the point not to punish a criminal but to prevent him from becoming that way in the first place. Which brings us again to the topic of children and a better way to raise them, Force-sensitive or not.

Rey and Ben both are children with unhealed wounds. Their brief moment of harmony during the Force connection on Ahch-To was so powerful because both were speaking to each other’s inner child: Ben saying to Rey that she was not alone, Rey offering Ben an understanding he had not known before. Padmé also always saw in Anakin the good little boy she had first met; one of the reasons of the unbalance in their relationship was that he felt powerless to do something for her in return.

I think that the sequel trilogy of the Skywalkers wanted to tell us is that even if you save the whole galaxy, it’s not sufficient if afterwards you can’t support and protect your own offspring. When we met Han, Leia and Luke again, their personalities were pretty much as we left them; their mistake in handling Ben can’t have been something they actually did to him, the blunder must lie somewhere in their attitude. All three of them were traumatized by cruelly losing or never having known a healthy family life, so we must assume that after the war against the Empire, they tried to build a new world that would fit to their needs. But if adults build a home, they must do so thinking first and foremost not of themselves but of the ones who need it more than them. Children shape the future, not a victory of “good” over “evil”. And I find it interesting that the codebreaker DJ, who had such a pragmatic view of war, was also someone we met on Canto Bight, like the children. He was a traitor, but as everyone in the saga, even he had a point when he said that ultimately, wars are useless because they always flare up again.

“Good, bad, made-up words. You blow them up today, they blow you up tomorrow.” DJ in The Last Jedi

The last scene of The Last Jedi showed us a Force-sensitive boy sweeping an open space before looking up at the sky and dreaming about being a Jedi. I still believe that this scene’s meaning was “Clear the stage, it’s time for us - the children.”

The Jedi, respectively Force-sensitive creatures, must find new and better ways if they want to be advocates for peace and justice. No institution can claim to have a moral standard if it does not protect, nurture and encourage their most vulnerable and needful members, i.e. the children. Watching the prequels it is shocking to follow how the intelligent, brave and affectionate child Anakin could become the most hated man in the galaxy, crushed in the powerplay between the “good but narrow-minded guys” and the “bad but not always wrong” guys. Both his and his grandson’s dark fate could have been avoided, had it not been for the Jedi mentality based upon the conviction of having the right to destroy everything that does not (or does not seem) to line up with them.

The Star Wars saga told us over and over that power is not what it takes. The Jedi lost the Clone Wars; Vader was a lonely, bitter guy (not to mention Palpatine); Kylo had all the power his grandfather never had and it did him no good. Anakin, Han and Ben all were loved most by their women when they were at their weakest. And this brings me back to what I stated above: stories can be interpreted in different ways, but what about the message the author actually wanted to convey? If I am not getting it all wrong, it’s that compassion and not power is the key to everything good.

Episode VII and IX mirror one another, only VIII hints at a possible balance. Star Wars has a cyclical narrative; Anakin / Vader had his happiest moments and successes in his youth, while his grandson in his own youth hit rock bottom and committed his worst sins. If Kylo Ren’s destiny, as per Adam Driver’s words, is supposed to be the opposite of Darth Vader’s, how can The Rise of Skywalker really be the ultimate ending for him?

  P.S. What do you think, could baby Yoda and Ben meet? Then Obi-Wan and Yoda would be together again in a new way. P.P.S I would also like to see the Force, for once. I’m sure it’s not black and white at all. How about a rainbow? (Does anyone have Rian Johnson’s e-mail…? 😊) P. P.P.S. On the other hand, if the next film starts with Rey being pregnant and not knowing how, I might be sick… ☹

[fantastic-rambles]

Ahhh yaknow what you’re right. I just went back and looked over some of the rod, and I didn’t see Langa explicitly agree to not to skate with Adam. He promised that he wouldn’t quit skating with Reki, but he only acknowledged Reki’s warning to not be reckless. It actually makes a bunch of sense why Langa would be confused by the distancing and argument. I see now why you were upset with Reki’s behavior. It feels kind of like a ‘secret contract’ sorta thing where Reki got upset over a broken rule Langa never realized he was supposed to abide by. And not only is that unfair like you said, but it flipped the situation as if Langa was being untrustworthy to his word when really Reki didn’t trust Langa not to quit skating with him just because of danger/injury. And especially since I’ve seen people make solid arguments for Langa being neurodivergent or neurodivergent-coded, it’s really not a stretch at all for him to see the situation like you did. Langa most likely saw the issue as solely reckless behavior leading to quitting. But clearly Reki’s own jealousy/insecurities added Langa preferring better skaters as potentially leading to them not skating together without ever discussing it until Langa was blindsided during the argument. I would’ve looked a better apology from Reki where he fully explained why he was upset when they were making up. It’s human for his feelings on the issue to change, but that should’ve been better expressed to Langa. Although Langa did a great job of accurately smoothing over what was bothering Reki without that. Maybe that’ll be rectified if he apologizes to Miya. I think Miya deserves one especially since Reki physically shoved him after he opened up about why his actions were such a sore spot for him. I actually thought Miya’s words would help Reki see the other side of things so seeing Miya get pushed was like a “Bro wtf??” moment for me. Again it’s understandable that people act out when they’re angry and Reki was obviously already struggling with his emotions, but it should be acknowledged again how wrong that was. Boy are you opening my eyes to a lot of problematic stuff lol.

Also, I’m very curious as to why you hate Shadow. For me, it’s because I can’t move past that comment in ep 1. I know ppl brush it off as just an (unnecessarily misogynistic) act for his persona, but that woman literally didn’t say anything to him and he insulted her for no reason by using her body as trophy to be defaced if he won. Ew. And just because he’s super nice to the flower shop lady, he does not get a pass. If he’s only respectful to women he’s attracted to and jumps at any other the opportunity to degrade women, he’s still a misogynist. And I’m pretty sure that he already new flower shop lady when the series started, so I don’t think you can argue that his character developed to be better towards women as a whole because of her or that he wouldn’t do something like that again at this point in the story. Especially since the goal of proving yourself as a “strong man” has not historically worked out to men being compassionate with women. (Tho within a vacuum devoid of his other actions, I can appreciate his commitment to a makeup routine)

Oh! And I would totally wanna read that fanfic if you write it!! I’m not even as gung-ho about Adam going to jail as most fans and Adam-haters tbh. Mainly because it’d probably be for political corruption via money bribes which is already kinda common and I don’t think the show has stated him to be doing anything particularly bad with it I don’t think so?? Like it seems to be mainly for the purpose of keeping S secret which is indeed a waste of money and effort when he could just buy it, but on the other hand, there doesn’t seem to be any ill consequences on the citizens the politician represents. So yea, it’s illegal so the jail time is technically deserved. But also like... no harm no foul🤷‍♀️ If he would be getting charged for assaulting other skaters than I definitely think that’s fair, but I doubt that’ll happen in the show just because I feel like no one will actually say anything when the time comes partially due to the shock of his arrest if they’re even involved. And I mean, Cherry was pissed at Adam for getting skaters hurt but still rolled out the hospital and joked like he was fine, so I just don’t particularly see anyone calling him out on it to the point of it being apart of his sentencing. The end of ep 11 with Cherry and Joe arguing about one of them going against Adam just doesn’t sound like condemning him to battery charges to me XD

But yaknow I’ve been loving hurt/comfort type fics lately, so I’d be really interested in seeing Adam truly work and change himself for some type of redemption in that setting. I can see hitting rock bottom as being really good for him given it may provide a reprieve from having to manage his image. Adam is underrated in complexity so it’s always cool when people try to flesh him out more and dive into his inner world. And of course Tadashi is kind of my fave (if you couldn’t tell) so I love anything healing for him as well :)

Yep, I was majorly pissed at Reki for how he treated Langa and Miya. His behavior is absolutely problematic. Not as bad as Adam, obviously, but with everything I’ve said and you’ve realized... yeah. I’m glad he made up with Langa and will probably make up with Miya, but it doesn’t invalidate everything he’s done before. Yes, he’s still an immature teenager, but I don’t think he realizes how messed up his behavior was, even after making up with Langa (the resolution seems to be based on him accepting that he’s not an ace skater, rather than recognizing how toxic his behavior was), so I’m still not satisfied. But hey, it’s probably just me being hyperfixated on trivial details that nobody else even cares about. /shrug

(I’m glad to know that I wasn’t misinterpreting the “promise,” or lack thereof, though!)

And I have two major problems with Shadow. My first--and biggest--problem is, as you’ve pointed out, that he’s an enormous misogynist. At “S,” people have the freedom to be exactly who they are beneath the facades that they show to the world. For example, Adam is someone desperately searching for someone who can understand him, not the perfectly put-together politician Shindo Ainosuke. Cherry and Joe are more true to their “real life” selves, but there are differences in their behavior on the track and off. And then there’s Shadow, the overcompensating “strong man” who threatens to make a guy tattoo “Dumpster Slut” over his girl’s name. So I 100% agree with everything you said about Shadow. He’s a chauvinistic pig.

The second problem is that I honestly think his actions when he’s racing are worse than Adam’s, and the only reason it’s not made out as such is because he’s the buttmonkey rather than the villain. I believe that, as problematic as Adam’s antics are, he does not intend to cause severe physical harm to his opponents. I’ve discussed this idea in more detail in other posts, but in short, even in the most extreme case--Cherry’s--his injuries were far lighter than they would have been if Adam had seriously wanted to hurt him. Death, coma, etc. were all highly probable outcomes of that situation, so the only reason they didn’t happen was because Adam was holding back. Or anime logic. But even anime logic can only stretch so far. And against lesser opponents like Reki, he generally holds onto them to ensure that they don’t accidentally hurt themselves when they’re panicking.

Of course, Shadow doesn’t intend to cause severe physical harm to his opponents either, but he does not exert any control over the situation after he throws fireworks at his opponent or shines a laser in their eyes. We’ve twice seen his opponents fall off the course as a direct result of his actions: Reki in the first race, Harry in the quarterfinals. They could have just as easily fallen off the cliff or slammed into a wall (at full speed) and been badly injured. If Shadow were an actual villain, I fully believe that he would have an actual body count of people who died racing against him (as opposed to Adam’s trail of injured opponents). So it bothers me that people shrug off what Shadow does while screaming for Adam’s death.

As for the scandal subplot... I’m *pretty* sure it’s a lot more serious than Adam bribing the police to leave “S” alone. I think he’s actually involved in some majorly shady/illegal activities politically. Like, in Episode 7, when the other Diet member gets pulled over, arrested, and has his house searched... there’s no way that has anything to do with “S.” At the very least, the two of them were collaborating on something really bad, something serious that Adam lied about under oath, and that’s enough for Adam’s staff to worry about what’s going to happen, especially Tadashi. We don’t know what it is specifically, but it’s definitely a lot more than just passing out bribes to hide “S.”

Lol, I’ll have to see how it goes. Probably won’t start it until after the anime finishes at the very least so I can see how it turns out for Adam and Tadashi, plus I have another half dozen WIPs at the moment and nowhere near enough time to work on them all. xD

[365days365movies]

January 15, 2021: Casino Royale (2006) (Part 1)

So...we meet again, Bond. What’ve you been doing for the past few years?

...What. Not who, James, WHAT. Jeez.

Whatever. BrosBond had 3 movies after GoldenEye, and they were...not great, from what I’ve heard. Remember, I wasn’t as big of a fan of GoldenEye as many critics and fans were; so, I can’t imagine what I’d think of the latter three. Maybe one day, but not today!

Today, I’m focusing my sights on the revitalization of the brand. See, in 2002, Die Another Day came out, and that movie was apparently crazy. TOO crazy. So crazy, in fact, that audiences and critics accused it of losing the plot, and the production studio in charge (Eon Productions) had a yearning to change direction. And their inspiration came from...a surprising place.

See, Joel Schumacher’s campy, over-the-top Batman films were basically wiped out by Christopher Nolan’s 2005 reinvention of the character in Batman Begins. Which is, in my opinion, a highly underrated classic, Seriously. And in 2005, this film was absolutely a smash-hit. Batman was cool again, which a lot of people never thought would happen in film. Eon saw this, and thought...how can we apply that to Bond?

Out with Brosnan...in with Craig.

The first of the new, darker, reinvented Bond films is planned for release in 2006, starring Daniel Craig as the suave, sophisticated spy. And the director of the film was selected to be...Martin Campbell? From GoldenEye? The guy who kinda sorta started the modern over-the-top Bond? Really? I mean, OK. The writers this time are different...except for one. I didn’t talk about the writers last time because I don’t like putting people on blast if I don’t gotta. This time...maybe. We’ll see.

If this Casino Royale is basically Bond Begins, I’m definitely interested. Maybe this’ll revitalize that Bond-love from the Connery days. Let’s find out! We’re also gonna look at the Bond checklist again!

Gadgets: better have more cool gadgets than GoldenEye, I swear...

Bond Girl: GoldenEye’s Natalya wasn’t bad, to be honest; let’s see who his Inevitable Love Interest is this time.

Villain: Alec Trevelyan had so much potential. I need my dastardly villain, let’s do this. Oh, and let’s throw the henchman in here, too. Xenia Onatopp was...a lot...but she was a memorable henchman, at least.

Music: Of course. GoldenEye’s theme was good, and we’ll see how 2006 does.

OK, movie time. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start at an office building in Prague, where a man makes his way up to his office. Waiting there for him is, of course, James Bond (Daniel Craig). The man is Dryden, section chief at the British Embassy in Prague, whom M has accused of selling secrets, a big no-no. But Bond...isn’t a double-0 agent. Huh. You got me interested.

Apparently, agents get the two zeroes once they’ve killed two people on file. James hadn’t killed anyone...until recently. Which is when we get this.

OH SHIT

This is an absolutely BRUTAL fight. It’s not choreographed flashily, it’s not pretty...it’s rough. It’s intense. And it’s...oh my God, wow. Made me feel it. And what’s astonishing is that it’s SO short.

On learning this, Dryden tells him not to worry, the second one is...

...YOU GOT ME. I’M IN FOR THE FUCKIN’ RIDE

HOW??? How is it that in 3 minutes of screentime, I’m already more satisfied by Craig’s Bond than I was for the ENTIRETY of GoldenEye? That is masterfully done, right off the bat. WOW. We even get a smooth-as-silk segue into the classic bullet turret sequence, and that takes us right into the song and opening credits. And...wow.

Here’s the thing about Bond openings, as I mentioned last time: they were all directed by one guy up until GoldenEye, and were basically all silhouetted women with themes and scenes from the movie projected around them. The Brosnan movies followed suit, always having silhouetted women in one way or another. Die Another Day used CGI women and...a really bad Madonna song. It was...it is NOT GOOD, guys. Look it up, it’s the most 2002 thing I’ve ever heard.

But here’s the fin bit about Casino Royale. This is the first Bond movie opening with no women in it. Yeah. It’s the first one. And the song is Chris Cornell’s You Know My Name, and it’s good! Not sure it’s going in my soundtrack, though.

Finally, the opening credits sequence itself: it’s once again Daniel Kleinman doing it, and it’s actually inspired by the first James Bond book Casino Royale, which had already had a TV special and unofficial Bond movie made from it! The cover had a playing card motif, and the opening carries over that motif creatively. I really dig it, if I’m honest! Definitely a welcome break from the 44 years of Bond films preceding it.

Uganda! And we meet the villain of this film: Le Chiffre (Mads Mikkelsen). And GODDAMN if that isn’t a Bond villain! He’s a banker, making a deal with a rebel leader, Steven Obanno (Isaach de Bankole), via their liason Mr. White (Jesper Christiensen). Setting up an attack by supplying Obanno with money, he sells his stocks of a company called Skyfleet, knowing that they’re about to fail.

Meanwhile, a ferret’s fighting an Asian species of cobra. In Madagascar. My zoology senses are EXPLODING, OH my God. So much wrong there. Anyway, there’s a bombmaker in the crowd watching the fight. He’s being tailed by Bond and another agent, Carter, who tips off the guy by being a bad spy. Bond chases him to a construction yard. What now, James?

Awesome. Why is this awesome when I said that the tank was dumb? Because at least it makes sense for a bulldozer to go haywire in a construction yard, just sayin’. Plus, this dude clearly isn’t the best, as he fires on construction workers and cops.

Eventually, this chase sequence brings us to the top of a crane, where this exchange happens.

I, uh...I love this movie already. That’s goddamn great.

The chase scene as a whole is also fantastic, as it continues off the bridge and into an abandoned building, then escalates into the streets, brings in law enforcement, and eventually ends with Bond at an embassy, facing down both the military and the bomb maker. He kills the guy, shoots some gas tanks, grabs the bomb, and then gets the hell out of there.

...Y’know what, that was fucking amazing, but he also almost certainly caused an international incident there. And I should be annoyed about that, but guess what! It makes sense! This is an inexperienced Bond, one who’s JUST been promoted to 00 status as 007, as the prologue explained. So, y’know what? I’m into it!

Cut to a yacht, like you do in a Martin Campbell Bond film. There, we have our villain, Le Chiffre, playing a card game. Also, he weeps blood. Yeah. HE WEEPS BLOOD.

OK, if that isn’t some Bond villain shit, I don’t know WHAT is. He’s also asthmatic, because I love it. I love it so much. He’s a mathematically-brilliant asthmatic that weeps blood. More, please. 

He’s also a person aware of what Bond did at the embassy, as it’s already become an international incident! Thank you for showing consequences, movie! Damn! I love it! This has two additional consequences. One, Le Chiffre notes that the code “Ellipsis” used by the bomber may be soon to expire, indicating a connection between the two. And the second consequence? M’s pissed.

M! DAME JUDI DENCH! One of my favorite things about GoldenEye was bringing in Judi Dench as M, and she made it through the reboot! And she’s still as entertaining as she was before, calling Bond out for his stupidity, and explaining that she misses the Cold War.

In her apartment, M does her normal exposition schtick, and her interactions with Bond are fantastic here. She’s understandably angry at him, and gives him what for, but she’s also clearly impressed that he FIGURED OUT WHERE SHE LIVES, as well as her REAL NAME. Shows her opinion of Bond and aspects of Bond’s character in a single, masterful stroke. 

Well. Goddamn. Done.

The Bahamas! Bond’s here to find Alex Dimitrios (Simon Abkarian), a Greek businessman who’s believed to have a connection with Le Chiffre himself. And, as James Bond is wont to do, he finds him at a party, playing cards. And here’s where the reinvention of Bond comes full circle.

See, Bond’s doing all the typical Bond things, yeah. But there are some differences present here, as well as some neat nuances. Bond isn’t wearing the suit, first of all. He actually hasn’t worn a suit the whole movie, which makes perfect sense for a spy. Suits aren’t exactly the least conspicuous thing in the world; bound to get you noticed if you don’t want to be.

And then, there’s the girl. This is Solange Dimitrios (Catherina Murino), the wife of Alex who was treated BADLY by him at the party. That gives her a reason to take Bond’s offer for a ride to his place, outside of just his raw animalistic charm that he seems to have in some of these movies. Look at that, already more chemistry than he had with Natalya in GoldenEye.

And yes, this results in her cheating on Alex. Is her cheating justified from a moral standpoint? No, of course it isn’t. And of course, this leads to the typical Bond-handsome-sex-GOOD sequence, but again, some nuance here! First of all, he doesn’t win her over with corny clever lines, like what we saw in GoldenEye multiple ties. Second, this is actually all an attempt to get some infomation from her about her husband. Bond might be enjoying it, but his womanizing here actually has a purpose. And that’s rare!

That’s further punctuated by the fact that he STRAIGHT UP LEAVES BEFORE ANYTHING HAPPENS. Yeah, she tells him that Alex just made his way to Miami, and he leaves! Dick move, yeah, but it makes sense! James isn’t here for pleasure, he’s here for work!

He follows Alex to a Bodies at Work exhibit (you know, the preserved and skinned cadavers put into poses that used to tour around the USA? I saw it in Times Square at the end of its popularity. A little ghoulish, maybe, but I think it’s pretty cool), where the two of them get in a very tense close-up knife fight in public.

Alex is dead, but not before passing off a package to someone else at the exhibition. Bond tails the guy to Miami International Airport, where the largest airplane in the world is set to be unveiled. Using the code sent to the bombers, Bond gets into the back, and goes to intercept the disguised bomber who’s set to blow up the SkyChonk (I mean it, that giant airplane is THICCC).

Time for another cool chase sequence! Some luggage is destroyed, along with a bus, the cops join in on the chase, an airplane is prevented from landing (making someone on that plane probably very upset), and Bond somehow manages to prevent the plane from blowing up. And it’s by the SKIN of his teeth, lemme tell you. Also, he blows up a dude with his own flashlight bomb.

Nice. Somehow, Bond isn’t arrested, and makes his way back to the Bahamas. And it looks like Solange isn’t the Bond girl after all. Because she was thought to be the information leak (which she was, to an extent), she was tortured to death. Whoof.

M’s in the Bahamas now, and the exposition continues. She’s done with Bond’s bullshit, and she plants a tracker under his skin. She explains that with the big boi plane destroyed, somebody stood a lot to gain financially from the stock crash to come. Except that the plane wasn’t destroyed, and that person lost $100 million by “betting the wrong way.”

That person, of course, was Le Chiffre, a manthematical genius and chess prodigy, who plays poker for fun, and plays the stock market with his clients’ money. Bond’s the best poker player in MI6 (a good addition that we already saw foreshadowed earlier! See what I mean?), and she’s sending him to a high stakes poker game that Le Chiffre’s looking to regain his money from. 

Bond FINALLY dons his suit, and gets on a train in Montenegro, where he meets...

Vesper Lynd (Eva Green). THERE’S our Bond girl! Although, there’s a reference to Miss Moneypenny in their introduction, which is interesting. But Vesper is an agent for the British Treasury, supplying the money for the buy-in for the tournament. And their conversation on the train...wow. Now THIS is chemistry, seriously.

Vesper’s a great character, and she gives Bond NO quarter. She reads his character, and calls him out very accurately. They also explain why both Bond and Vesper are good at poker: it’s all about reading people. I’m genuinely impressed by how this movie is put together, and how well-thought out Bond is as a character. And this is the dimension I love to see in a Bond girl as well!

GODDAMN, I am in love with this movie. More coming in Part 2!

[mermaidcashton]

dance in the living room, love with an attitude

authors: claire (@mermaidcashton) & laura (@maluminspace)  ship/AU: michael clifford/ashton irwin, roommates AU  prompt: “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.”  wordcount: 10k+ warnings: swearing, implied & explicit sexual content  a/n: • written for @maluminspace & @h0tsos ‘s 5sos fic writers collab (in which we all chose from a list of AU’s and had the above prompt quote to include - check out the masterlist linked to see everyone elses!) • i do not give permission for this (or any of my writing) to be reposted, by anyone, on this or any other website. please don’t do it! • title from ‘only human’ by the jonas brothers dance in the living room, love with an attitude *** The music was probably turned up a little too loud, but it helped to drown out the nerves starting to bubble away in Michael’s tummy.  ‘I hope ‘Ashton’ likes MCR’ he thought as he half-heartedly wiped down the kitchen counters with a damp cloth. He wanted the place to look mildly tidier than it usually did for his new flatmate. First impressions counted for a lot, as his mum had told him twice this week already.

Once the splashes of milk from this morning’s mishap with the cereal had been washed away along with the crumbs from last night’s dinner of peanut butter on toast, he stole a quick glance at the clock on the wall over in the living room area. It wasn’t quite midday, which meant he had a little over an hour until his new roommate was due to arrive. That should mean that he just about had enough time to vacuum the whole flat and take a shower.  Throwing the dishcloth into the little cleaning basket on the window ledge, Michael focused on  screaming the lyrics to ‘Thank you for Venom’ and tried not to focus too much on the anxiety about the rest of the day.

Agreeing to live with someone he’d never met in person probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas. It’s not like Michael had been given much choice, though. His last flatmate had given him less than a week’s notice when she decided to move in with her short-term girlfriend and left Michael with a whole bunch of bills that his meagre paycheck could never stretch far enough to cover. Luckily, his best friend Luke had a work colleague who desperately needed a new place to live since his landlord had slapped him with a very short notice period to move out of his current flat. Luke had offered to give this work friend Michael’s contact details and the following morning, Michael had woken up to a text from a guy called Ashton who was very interested in Michael’s recently vacant spare room. 

After explaining the cost of rent and other bills in a few subsequent texts, Michael had received a very grateful reply from Ashton asking if it would be possible to  move in that weekend. Of course the blonde had agreed, eager to get the awkward first meeting out of the way as soon as possible.

Determined to get his most hated chore done before he could start collecting his thoughts and mentally preparing for the arrival of his new flatmate, Michael grabbed the portable hoover from the charging port on the tiny bit of the kitchen wall that was not taken up by the counters and cabinets. He was just about to press the ‘ON’ button when a knock at the door put an abrupt halt to his plans.

Michael huffed as he made his way over to the front door. The only people that had the security code for the entrance of the building were his parents and Luke, neither of which were due to visit today. That left only someone who had the wrong flat, or one other possible visitor; his neighbour, Calum. They’d hang out sometimes, whenever their days off matched up. Their shared interest in certain obscure and rare computer games and a mutual love of sushi and beer made for hours of fun without the chore of actually having to leave the building. Michael had definitely made sure to let Calum know that he was expecting his new flatmate to arrive today, though, so he was a little confused as to why his neighbour would be dropping by now. 

That feeling only intensified when a glance through the spy hole on his front door revealed that Calum was accompanied by a stranger. He opened the door cautiously, still feeling a little bewildered. 

“Hey, mate.” Calum grinned, waving a handful of unopened letters in greeting. “Just found this guy outside with a bunch of boxes. I knew you were expecting your new flatmate today, so I helped bring his stuff up.” His dark brown eyes surveyed Michael with something like confusion from beneath the rim of his seemingly ever-present black bucket hat. 

Michael could only imagine that his neighbour was mirroring his own befuddled expression because Ashton wasn’t due to arrive for another hour. He forced himself to look over at the stranger, whilst his mind worked over what was happening.

It appeared that Calum was right in assuming this was Ashton. He was indeed carrying a large cardboard box labelled ‘bedroom’ that would definitely suggest he was moving house. There were also a bunch of smaller boxes piled against the wall beside the front door which supported that assumption. 

“Do you guys need any more help?” Calum offered, “I’m free if…”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Michael cut in quickly. “We can take it from here, thanks Cal.” The last thing Michael wanted was more people to see the apartment in its current state. 

“No worries.” Calum smiled, “You know where I am if you change your mind.” He turned his attention to his little fluffy dog who had been patiently waiting for his post-walk nap. “C’mon Duke.” 

Once Calum and his little fluff ball had wandered off across the hall towards their own apartment, Michael turned his attention back to Ashton. Three things struck him about his new flatmate in very quick succession;

Ashton was incredibly hot. His curly black hair hung loosely around his handsome face, framing his chiselled cheekbones and clean shaven, angular jaw beautifully. His hazel eyes were striking from behind the horn-rimmed glasses perched neatly on his perfectly ski-slope shaped nose. 

He looked vaguely familiar. Michael knew that he’d seen Ashton’s face somewhere before but it wouldn’t quite click in his brain. Not that it would be entirely surprising if they’d met before, they did share a close friend after-all. It just seemed a little off that Luke hadn’t reminded Michael of the occasion they'd met at before suggesting they live together.

Despite his silence, Ashton looked somewhat annoyed, possibly bordering on angry. That struck Michael as odd. He had been known to piss people off fairly regularly but seeing as he’d barely even spoken to Ashton, this would be an all time record.

“So you must be Ashton…” Michael smiled, awkwardly tucking a strand of his messy blonde hair behind his ear whilst offering his free hand out for his new flatmate to shake. “I’m Michael, or you can call me Mike if you want. Most of my friends do.” Ashton didn’t accept the offer of a handshake, in fact he made no movement whatsoever. He simply glared at Michael with an increasing level of irritation. “Are you kidding me?” 

Michael knew that he was not the prettiest of people. He dressed casually most of the time and due to Ashton’s early appearance, he’d not yet had a chance to shower and make himself a little more presentable. He didn’t think that he quite deserved such a cutting greeting, though. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you yet, I was just…”

“You don’t even remember me, do you?!” Ashton interrupted, his tone dripping of resentment now. “Fucking unbelievable!”  Michael couldn’t remember ever feeling more confused in his life. Ashton hadn’t mentioned that  they’d previously met in his text messages so why would he be so angry that Michael hadn’t immediately recognised him now? 

The newcomer’s harsh tone had caught Calum’s attention, causing the neighbour to pause in sorting through his mail and stare unashamedly at the scene unfolding across the hall.

“This could only fucking happen to me…” Ashton huffed, adjusting his grip on the box in his arms. “I get turfed out of my flat because my landlord suddenly decides he wants it for his daughter and just when I think I’ve landed on my feet with a new place, my new fucking flatmate turns out to be a one night stand who doesn’t even remember me! Talk about kicking a guy when he’s down!”

Michael barely registered Calum’s audible gasp as realisation crashed around him. Suddenly the memory of the beautiful man that had swept Michael off his feet at a bar a few months back replayed in his head like a movie he’d seen once but hadn’t been able to remember the title of. He’d only known the guy as Ash and he’d assumed it was short for Ashley. Despite the fact that Ash’s hair had been a sexy shade of crimson, styled in a neat quiff and he hadn’t been wearing glasses, it was definitely the same guy that was standing in front of him right now. 

“Ash…” the word escaped Michael almost of it’s own volition. “But I thought that was short for… oh my god, this can’t be happening.” He cupped his own face in his hands as the reality of the awkward situation began to settle into the very fibre of his being.

“Wow, you can’t make this shit up.” Calum gasped, an almost delighted smile on his face. “What’re you guys gonna do?” 

Despite Calum’s annoying rubbernecking, it gave Michael the perfect excuse to look away from Ashton for a second. “Well I’m gonna throw something at you, if you don’t get lost right now, Calum.” He hissed. 

“He’s not the one coming across like a shithead right now.” Ashton scoffed, setting the box in his arms onto the floor. “Being a nosey neighbour still makes you a hell of a better person than the guy that flatters their way into your bed and gives you amazing sex but then gives you a fake number!”

“That’s right.” Calum agreed. “People that do that are the worst. At least have the balls to tell the other person you’re not looking for anything long term before you disappear the next day.”

“Calum, I swear to god…” Michael hissed. 

Ashton shook his head angrily. “He’s right, if you never wanted to see me again, you could have just said. I wouldn’t have wasted some of my best moves on you.” 

“Oh, what were the moves?” Calum smirked, prying his way further into the conversation. 

His neighbour’s blatant disregard for the seriousness of the situation was annoying to say the least. It was also the last thing Michael needed to deal with right now. “Piss off, Calum!”, he snapped. 

Duke yapped disapprovingly at Michael, his tiny eyes focused on the blonde man as his human’s smirk grew even further across his face.

“Oh, you can shut up as well!” Michael snapped at the tiny pooch. “Now you’re yelling at a dog.” Ashton rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s a good thing you blew me off, looks like I had a lucky escape from dating an arsehole!”  Michael really couldn’t envisage the situation getting any worse. At this rate he was going to be searching for another roommate instead of enjoying a pleasant lunch with this one, like he’d hoped. 

“I didn’t give you a fake number!” Michael protested. “I swear, I’m not like that, and I really liked you! I broke my phone, the same weekend we...met.” He felt his cheeks begin to colour, trying his hardest to ignore Calum’s snort as he focused on Ashton’s disbelieving face.

“It took me two weeks to sort out a new one, I had a little pay as you go in between, I had a different number, and I-you did call, then?” Michael paused his blurted explanations to blurt out a question, instead. He had been wondering every time it was late and he was alone for 6 months whether or not he’d missed a call from the best one night stand of his life. 

“Of course I did!” Ashton threw his hands up in exasperation, startling Duke and sending him scuttling back into the still-open doorway of the opposite flat. “I thought we had a connection, we said we wanted to see each other again; that doesn’t happen that often for me! Maybe it does for you…”

“Oh, it definitely doesn’t.” Calum smirked. “The only man who comes to see Michael regularly is the Domino’s delivery guy.” 

Before Michael could blow up at him, Calum backed up properly into his flat, resting his hand on his front door. “It’s a shame, actually,” he continued, smiling encouragingly at his neighbour. “Michael is really a great guy. He always has time for me and Duke; whether it’s for beers, a listening ear, or belly rubs.” 

He throws a wink to Ashton as he shuts his front door with a click. “I’ll leave you to figure out which one is for me. Welcome to the building!” 

Michael knows he needs to gain control of the slightly-stunned silence left in Calum’s wake, fast. He needs to say something apologetic, or charming, or cool. “Do you like fish fingers?” Or that. 

Ashton blinked a few times in quick succession, and Michael wanted to throw himself down the stairs. 

“Do I like fish fingers?” Ashton repeated, pushing his long black hair back with both hands.

Michael flushed again, at least thankful for the fact that he no longer had an audience for the most embarrassing encounter of his life. “It’s just, I thought we could have lunch, and talk, and I’m not really much of a cook, but I have fish fingers, right, and everyone likes fish finger sandwiches...don’t they…” He trailed off, hoping Luke perhaps had another co-worker who needed immediate accommodation. 

Ashton fixed him with the most intense stare he’d ever received in a conversation about freezer food, and Michael tried to match his unrelenting gaze in a way that would make him look less like he wanted to cry. Ashton’s eyes really were beautiful, seeming almost magnified by his glasses. He looked thoughtful and sad now, rather than judgmental and angry, and Michael would take that.

“I do.” Ashton decided on, after what felt like an eternity. He stooped down to pick up his box again, muscles tensing, and Michael’s mind began to wander. 

He remembered Ashton’s arms looking just like that as he lifted him up for the last few feet of the journey to the redhead-at-the-time’s bed. Michael could almost feel his fingers digging into the bare skin of his thighs all over again. The memories of slow, wet, considered neck kisses being broken with teeth, and the delicious burn that started low and spread like wildfire as Ashton stretched him out like he was born to do it.

“Michael? After you?”  Michael snapped out of his daze, dragging his eyes away from Ashton’s lips where they had landed at some point in his reminiscing. He stepped back so Ashton could enter the flat and set the box down by the sofa. “Yeah, great, come in, make yourself at home, I’ll get the rest of your boxes!”   As soon as he was outside in the corridor, Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. ‘Okay, Clifford - you need to snap out of it. Relax and smooth things over so you two can live together.’ He told himself, as sternly as he could manage. ‘We need a roommate more than we need to get laid.’

‘That’s debatable.’ Another voice - which sounded more like Calum than himself - chimed in before Michael shook it off and picked up the stack of cardboard boxes cluttering up the corridor.

‘Okay, you can do this. Damage control. Just be normal. Go in and face this head on. You can do this.’ Michael murmured, running his tongue over his bitten lips as he took his first steps back to where Ashton was waiting.

He hip-checked the front door closed as he re-entered the flat, placing the boxes next to one Ashton had carried in, before straightening up to see Ashton sat on the sofa, looking both nervous and delicious. 

“I…” Michael faltered under Ashton’s almost shy gaze, then caught sight of a slice of Ashton’s firm, hairy stomach from where his t-shirt was riding up slightly.

“I just need to go to the bathroom. Then we can...talk, and eat. Okay?” Michael forced what he hoped was a casual, winning smile, and then scuttled across to the bathroom the moment Ashton made a noise of agreement and nodded his head.

Michael clicked the lock shut and put the toilet lid down as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. He began tapping away with urgency as he took a seat on the toilet, pulling up his message thread with his best friend.

SOS!!!! 🚨

Luke!!!!

Where are you

LUKE FUCK HELP ME YOU DICK

With each message he sent, Michael could feel his panic beginning to swell back up in his chest. Finally, three dots began moving across the message to indicate Luke was writing. Help was on the way.

🥺🥺🥺 What’s up

Michael felt what he knew was an unjustified rage at Luke and his fucking emojis as he furiously typed a reply.

Oh nothing, I just had sex with my new roomate!!!

Michael jumped when his phone immediately started vibrating relentlessly, sliding his finger across the screen and holding it gingerly to his ear. 

“Hello?” He whispered into the receiver. 

“WHAT!!! What do you mean you’ve slept with him?! Ashton was due there at 12, and it’s now...12 minutes past 12! That’s INSANE, even for you! I cannot believe-”

“Luke!” Michael hissed through clenched teeth, turning on the cold tap on the sink before he spoke again. “Not today, idiot! Remember, months ago, when I broke my phone? That weekend, I hooked up with that guy I met at The Alchemist? Red hair, big arms, amazing mouth-”

“Yes, I remember! What’s that got to do with it?” Luke cut in. 

“It was Ashton. I only knew him as Ash, remember? And obviously I never saw him again because I had no way to contact him after I broke my phone. But it’s him, Luke - he’s in my living room! In OUR living room! What am I gonna do?! I am freaking out!”

“Oh my God! You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Mike! You’ve had your new roommates dick in your mouth before he even moved in! Classic you.”

Michael could practically hear Luke’s eyeroll. “This is not classic me! Dick! Help me, Luke!”

“What do you want me to do, I can’t unfuck him for you!” Luke shot back. Michael let out an involuntary whimper and slumped further down on the toilet. He was so screwed.  

***

Michael emerged from the bathroom, Luke’s advice ringing in his ears as he approached Ashton on the sofa.  ‘He’s a really nice guy, Mike; just talk to him. Explain what happened after you hooked up, and say you hope you can put it behind you and be friends. I think he’ll be cool, honestly. Just try not to trip and land on his dick and you should be golden.’ 

He took one last deep breath as he sat down on the black leather beside his one-time lover.

“So, Ashton...I...listen, I’m sorry that I broke my phone and made you think I’d ghosted you. I’m just an idiot that dropped his phone outside Sainsbury’s. And I’m really sorry I didn’t recognise you straight away, I was just expecting someone I hadn’t, and your hair, and glasses, and-” Michael could feel himself starting to babble but he couldn’t stop himself; he was so desperate for Ashton to like him. He was trying not to think about why it was this important to him. 

Ashton held his hand up to stop him with a small smile. “Michael, it’s okay.”  

Michael stopped short in his unravelling with a look of surprise. “It is?”

Ashton’s smile grew wider. “Yeah. I was just a bit blindsided, and I was hurt at the time back then, you know? But you explained, you apologised, and you seem like a nice guy. Luke sure can’t talk you up enough, and I trust him. I have no reason not to believe this is gonna be all good.” 

Michael blinked, unsure if this was too good to be true. “Yeah? So...we’re good? You’re gonna...stay?”

Ashton relaxed back into his seat, toeing his shoes off and under the coffee table. “If that’s okay with you, yeah. We’re both grown ups; we can keep it platonic and put the past behind us, right? Friends?”

Michael nodded, trying to hide the gulp in his throat. “Yeah, of course. Right. Great. Friends.” He could definitely do this.

***

He could definitely not do this. 

It’d been a long one month, two weeks and three days of trying to convince himself that he didn’t want to be anything more than Ashton’s friend and roommate. 

Some days, Michael thought it was possible to put those lingering feelings away and focus on their blossoming platonic relationship. After all, Ashton was everything most people could ever want in a flatmate. He was tidy, considerate, fairly quiet and respectful of personal boundaries. The slightly older man was also great company. Michael has had many pleasant conversations with him over breakfast and in the evenings before they went to bed. 

As lovely as all of that was, Michael had started questioning if it was worth the growing ache in chest for more. Each new thing he learnt about Ashton made him more sure that he was probably the closest thing to the perfect man that Michael would ever know. It was a cruel twist of fate that had meant his one opportunity to have Ashton for himself had slipped through his fingers, quite literally. He cursed himself on a daily basis for that one clumsy moment when he’d fumbled pulling his old phone from his too-tight jeans outside the supermarket and had been forced to watch his only chance with Ashton sink into a muddy puddle. 

Whatever higher powers existed had been even less kind to have that strong, gorgeous, well-hung man turn up on Michael’s doorstep months later, as his only hope of being able to keep the flat he’d grown to love. 

Every day since then, seemed to have presented a new challenge or torture. First it was the tight t-shirts and vests Ashton wore more often than not. They accentuated every muscle of the raven-haired man’s torso and displayed his strong biceps in all their glory. 

Then came the sleepy morning routine they’d subconsciously fallen into. Ashton would emerge from his room in nothing but his loose grey sweats and crooked glasses, his hair ruffled and his eyes heavily lidded, before joining Michael for a hasty breakfast which usually consisted of cereal or toast and mug of strong coffee. It was during these sluggish mornings when they’d started to bond over their mutual love of crime dramas and fantasy movies, among other things. That had naturally led to evening-long Criminal Minds marathons whole weekends debating whether the Lord of the Rings movies or the Harry Potter movies were the better adaptations of their original books. Those playful arguments had spilled over into text messages now, so Michael couldn’t even escape his torturous living situation when he went to work. 

Despite all of that hardship, the most latest and arguably the toughest challenge Michael found himself facing, was Ashton’s morning yoga. At first, the older man had kept that part of his morning routine confined to his bedroom. For some reason or another, over the last week or so, Ashton had decided that the living area was a more suitable location for this activity. 

If Michael thought that sleepy, shirtless morning Ashton was hot, then sleepy, shirtless morning Ashton doing the ‘downward dog’ was positively off the fucking scale. The way his large hands pressed into the yoga mat and the way his strong arms and legs tensed as he straightened his back and pushed his arse up into the air lingered in Michael’s mind all day. These images often flickered through his mind at night too, when he was alone in his bed with nothing but his hand for company. 

Deciding that a little get together with some friends would help dispel some of the tension, Michael floats the idea of asking Calum and Luke over for a ‘lads night’. Ashton had agreed easily, being a generally social person, he’d seemed enthusiastic about the possibility of hosting a mini party. 

A group message is created and it doesn’t take long to settle on the following Friday night for beer, snacks and a FIFA tournament. 

Ashton seemed to have been looking forward to it, often mentioning how excited he was to get to know Calum better and asking Michael to help him decide between certain snacks to purchase for the occasion. 

All in all, Michael was proud of himself for the idea, focusing on hosting a couple of friends had certainly given both him and Ashton something new to focus on. 

It was only when Friday arrived that Michael started to doubt his plan. Watching Ashton arrange plates of snacks on the kitchen counter, with the cutest concentration face he’d ever seen, started to make Michael wish they were spending the evening alone instead. He quickly pushes the thought of his head, berating himself for thinking something so stupid. It’s not like anything could happen between them even if they were alone, they were roommates now, that’s where their relationship ends. 

“So....” Ashton broke the silence enveloping the flat as he finished pouring a bag of cheesy Doritos into a bowl. “Did you finally solve the mystery of who was stealing people’s shit from your fridge at work?” 

Michael was caught off guard by the question. He’d been watching Ashton so intently that he momentarily forgot about everything else. It took him a moment to remember that he’d been keeping Ashton up to date with the ongoing lunch burglar drama at the DIY store he worked at. “Oh, umm no, not yet! But Brenda finally told Linda to stick her fake friendship where the sun doesn’t shine.” 

A genuinely delighted smile burst into Ashton’s face as he headed into the living room area. “Good for her! Linda sounds like a bitch…” 

It really meant a lot to Michael that Ashton took such an interest in his work life. The fact that he cared so much about people he didn’t know, but was aware they meant a lot to Michael, was also heartwarming. 

Before Michael could go into more detail about the break time drama, a knock at the front door interrupted him. “Oh yay! Our first guest!” Ashton beamed, jogging off towards the front door to greet Calum.

***

As soon as the beer and wine had started flowing, Michael’s ever-present pining for Ashton dulled to an almost non existent haze at the edges of his mind. Sure, his knees felt weak every time Ashton flashes him that dopey smile of his and he might have blushed whenever their knees touched as they competed against each other in a thrilling game of virtual soccer. 

That was all better than his usual all-consuming lust, so Michael was somewhat proud of himself. He even managed to surprise the urge to let Ashton win their game, and was almost smug when his player sent the football flying past Ashton’s keeper to secure a 2-1 win. 

“Motherfucker!” Ashton grumbled, throwing his control pad into the sofa as he fixed Michael with look that was almost definitely the hottest gaze he’d ever been caught under. “I’m gonna get you for that, Clifford.” It sounded like a promise that held more weight than the simple challenge to a rematch it was probably meant to be. 

Michael had to fight back a whimper, staring into Ashton’s beautiful hazel eyes this closely was too much. The intensity of it all rendered him momentarily speechless and he was all-too glad when Ashton got to his feet and headed for the kitchen. 

“I need to drown my sorrows.” The black-haired man laughed, breaking the tension that had descended on them before heading off to the kitchen. Ignoring the knowing looks from his two friends, Michael picked up Ashton’s discarded controller and tossed it to Luke. “Your turn to face me, Hemmings. Let’s see if I can beat my all time record of beating you 6-1” 

“Fuck off! You have never beat me that badly.” Luke huffed, picking up the control pad that had just landed in his lap. “I’m gonna enjoy kicking your ass in front of your new boy-“

“Shit, we’re out of beers already!” Ashton’s interruption came at exactly the right moment in Michael’s opinion. He really hadn’t wanted Luke to finish that sentence and now he wouldn’t get the chance. 

“I’ll go to the shop for some more, does anyone have specific requests?” The eldest friend asked as he traipsed back into the living room area. 

“Oh you don’t have to go!” Michael shrugged, “you should stay here, we’ll send Luke instead, he sucks at this game anyway.” 

Luke scoffed, waving his hand defensively. “You’re not getting out of playing me that easily!” 

Ashton laughed, his eyes sparkling as he checked that his wallet was still in his jeans pocket. “It’s fine. I’m already out of the competition and I wouldn’t want to give anyone else an unfair advantage.” 

Maybe it was just the effects of the beers he’d already drank, but Michael could have sworn that Ashton’s gaze lingered on him a little longer than it probably should have. “You’re too nice.” The blonde beamed fondly, “I’ll transfer you my half of the money in the morning, unless you wanna take a tenner from my room?” 

“Oh is that an open invitation?” Calum asked, a lazy smile curling the corners of his lips. “You owe me at least that from when we bet on whether or not Luke could drink that tzatziki sauce last time.” 

“Fuck off, Calum! I don’t owe you a penny, I won that bet, Luke’s a fucking wuss…” 

“Hey! I am not!” Luke interrupted incredulously. 

“Okay, I need to hear that whole story when I get back!” Ashton giggled. “I’ll just grab a case of whatever beer is the cheapest though, yeah.” 

There was a general murder of agreement before Ashton headed out of the front door. Michael fond him watching until Ashton had disappeared into the hallway, swinging the front door closed behind him. “He’s so nice…” The blonde sighed dreamily, still gazing at the closed front door. “Don’t you think he’s just the best?” 

Calum and Luke exchanged a ‘is he for real’ glance before silently agreeing that this was the perfect opportunity to tease Michael about his blatant love for Ashton. 

“Yeah, he’s pretty special.” Calum agreed, smirking slyly. “You really can’t sing his praises highly enough, can you?” 

Shaking his head, Michael finally returned his attention to the TV. “You really can’t, he’s just so kind and sweet.” 

Calum nodded in agreement. “Not bad to look at either!” 

“Right?!” Michael giggled, oblivious to the fact that his tipsiness was making his lips too loose.  

“Hey Mike.” Luke cut in, reaching over to nudge his friend’s shoulder. “How’s being in love with your flatmate working out for you?” His conversational tone was entirely at odds with mischief in his eyes. It confused Michael but the youngest friend’s words were altogether too bold, a blatant overstep if ever there was one. 

Despite his inner rage at being called out like this, Michael fumbled, unable to cobble together an appropriate response. “Ugh, I don’t even… You’re so far-“ 

“There’s no point denying it anymore.” Calum chuckled, “I can feel the sexual tension between you two from across the hall!” 

“God, I bet it’s like watching a car crash, isn’t it?” Luke asked, picking up the bowl of M&M’s on the coffee table. “It’s horrific but you can’t tear your eyes away? Am I right?” 

Calum nodded. “It’s like watching a bad fucking soap opera.” 

Michael felt offended and embarrassed but still no words seemed to form coherently in his mouth. 

“At least it’s a bit less tragic now we can be sure it’s not entirely one sided!” Luke stage whispered with a calculating look on his face as he met Calum’s gaze.

“Yeah, it’s mildly less irritating!” Calum laughed. 

“Wait, what do you mean?” Michael sputtered. “Ash and I agreed that our one night stand is ancient history, we’re not-“ 

“Oh puh-lease!” Calum scoffed. “If you two haven’t fucked again by the end of this month I’ll eat my bucket hat.”

***

Ashton had returned with a case of twenty four bottles of beer and as a result, lad’s night had ended up running into the early hours of Saturday morning. 

Having drank his way through more than his fair share of that case, Michael didn’t end up rising from his pit until noon had long since been and gone. 

“Ah you are still alive!” Ashton chuckled, tearing his attention away from the TV to look at his flatmate. 

This was definitely not fucking fair. Michael didn’t need to look in a mirror to know that he looked exactly as he felt - rough as all hell. Ashton on the other hand, still looked as dreamy as ever. His black curls, although slightly ruffled and fluffy, were still on the stylish side of messy and he’d somehow found the motivation to get dressed, too, something Michael wasn’t even contemplating.

 “I’m glad you’re up now, though, I wondered if you had anything planned for dinner?” Ashton asked, peering at Michael from behind his horn-rimmed glasses. 

The thought of food made Michael’s stomach lurch unpleasantly and he had to fight to hold back a wretch. 

Ashton gives a sympathetic giggle before pausing his show and rising to his feet. “I’ll take that as a no. Don’t worry, buddy. I have a plan but first…” he jogged over to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. “Why don't you go and take a shower while I make you a tea? You’ll feel better after that and then we will talk dinner!” 

As Michael plods over to the bathroom, he shoots one last look over at Ashton, busily preparing mugs on the countertop and tries his absolute hardest to remember a time that he wasn’t in love with his flatmate.

***

As always, Ashton was proven to be 100% correct. 

Michael felt a million times better once he was showered and snuggled on the sofa with a mug of steaming tea. 

“You look a little more alive now.” Ashton smirked, sparing Michael a sideways glance before returning his attention to ‘Law and Order’. “Do you think you can handle talking about dinner yet?” 

The ache in Michael’s stomach felt a lot more like hunger than it had done when he first woke up and the thought of food didn’t make him feel like throwing up anymore so he nodded. “What’re your plans, chef?” 

Ashton’s cheeks turned a rosy pink as he shrugged. “I couldn’t bear to see you try to cobble together another freezer meal so I thought you might like me to teach you a simple pasta dish?” He suggested, his tone a little shy like he was worried what Michael’s reaction would be. “I’ll do most of the work, but I thought if you helped out, you’ll learn how to make something other than Super Noodles.” 

Michael couldn’t even be mad at the subtle dig at his cooking skills. He was terrible in the kitchen and it was just a little embarrassing that Ashton had noticed just how dyer his cooking skills were. “When you say simple, do you mean like a recipe and technique you can write on the back of a postage stamp because that’s about the level of my skill.” 

Rolling his eyes, Ashton casually threw his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “Don't be so hard in yourself, buddy! I once taught Luke how to make scrambled eggs on the stove so he didn’t have to be a savage and use the microwave anymore, so there’s definitely hole for you, I promise.” 

Michael tried to focus on the hat Ashton was saying but all that his slow, hungover brain could process was that he was pressed against his stupidly gorgeous flat mate’s side. The heady smell of Ashton’s minty body wash and the soft scent of his fabric conditioner felt intoxicating and Michael could do nothing besides allow his head to drop into Ashton’s shoulder. 

To the blonde’s surprise, Ashton shuffle away or call him out on it. He simply rests his own head on Michael’s and laughs. “We’ll make a chef of you yet, Clifford.” He promised.

***

They spent a good three hours, watching reruns of C.S.I and making plans to start a Marvel movie marathon after dinner. They sat close to each other the whole time and Michael noticed Ashton watching him from the corner of his eye on at least three separate occasions. 

By the time Ashton suggested they start making dinner, Michael had gone over his conversation with Calum and Luke the previous night, about sixty times. His two best friends had convinced him that Ashton wanted Michael just as much as Michael wanted Ashton. 

“The way he looks at you, dude.” Calum laughed. “He’s practically imagining you naked at any given moment. It’s getting uncomfortable.” 

“Don’t be stupid!” Michael reprimanded. “He doesn’t think of me like that anymore. We had a one night thing months ago. That’s it. Nothing else will ever happen between us again, we’re just flatmates.” 

Calum and Luke exchanged a sceptical glance before bursting into laughter. 

“Yeah right!” Luke huffed sarcastically. “Do you know how many times I hear your name come out of his mouth at work these days?” 

Michael’s cheeks reddened. He had no idea that Ashton talked about him at work. It felt kind of surreal to imagine his roommate relaying snippets of their home life to Luke. 

“Let me guess!” Calum interrupted. “About a thousand…” 

Nodding, Luke drained the last of his beer. “Yeah and that’s just before lunch!”

“Honestly, if they don’t bang soon I’m gonna knock their heads together.” Calum sighed. “Did you know Michael comes over to my place most mornings so he doesn’t have to watch Ashton do topless yoga?” He asked Luke disbelievingly. “I want my lie-in’s back!” 

At the time, Michael hadn’t believed his friends. He didn’t think that there was even a remote possibility that Ashton still carried a torch for him. But in the clear light of day, Michael couldn’t deny that all the signs were there… perhaps there could be more between them after all. 

He followed Ashton into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his grey oversized sweater, trying to clear his mind enough to be able to process learning a new skill. 

“Okay, this is like the simplest recipe I know but it’s delicious and tastes so much better than the freezer junk you usually make for yourself.” Ashton rambles as he grabs a saucepan and a frying pan from the shelf near the cooker.  

“Hey, freezer junk has been my lifeline on many occasions, I’d probably be dead without it.” Michael scoffed, only half joking. 

Ashton rolled his eyes fondly, handing Michael the saucepan. “Fill this with water for me and then put it on the back hob, while it’s boiling I’ll teach you how to make the sauce.” 

As Michael carried out his instructions, he couldn’t help but admire the concentration on Ashton’s face when he began rifling through the fridge and cupboard, pulling out various ingredients. 

Once the pan of water was safely on the job Ashton had indicated, Michael returned his full attention to the slightly older man.

“Right, the first thing we do for the sauce is put 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil into this cold pan.” Ashton explained, pushing his glasses up his nose a little, reminding Michael of a hot English teacher or something… fuck, it was already difficult enough for Michael to concentrate without random fantasies about Ashton fucking him over a desk running through his mind. “Usually I’d never add oil to a cold pan, but for this particular recipe, it works because if the pan was already hot, the first ingredients would burn before the rest was in there.” 

There was something about the way Ashton talked with such passion and confidence that made Michael wish he was confident enough to just drag him to the bedroom, his need for more from Ashton becoming unbearable. He forced himself to nod, pretending like he understood when really, Ashton could be telling him absolutely anything right now, and Michael would not know the difference because all he can think about is the way Ashton had groaned at the feeling of Michael’s nails running down his back and how he’d growled Michael’s name as he neared his climax. 

“Can you pass me the basil?” Ashton asked, pulling Michael out of his memory. 

The blonde surveyed the ingredients on the countertop. Luckily he recognised most of them, so he picked up the basil by process of elimination and handed it to Ashton like a dutiful sous chef. 

Ashton looked mildly impressed as he took the bag of basil and took out handful. “We want about ten or so decent sized leaves and we tear them in half before adding them to the oil, okay?” He waited for Michael’s nod of understanding before tearing the leaves in his hand and dropping them into the pan. 

“Then we need to chop 6-8 cloves of garlic directly into the pan.” Michael looked back at the little stack of ingredients and frowned, noticing an instant problem. “We only have one clove of garlic…” he pointed out, biting his bottom lip worriedly. 

Ashton burst out laughing as he picked the garlic up from the counter. “This is a whole bulb, babe…” he explained, apparently not even noticing his use of the supposedly accidental pet name. 

It was difficult for Michael to feel too offended by Ashton’s laughter when he’d just called him babe, though, so he let it go, focusing on the term of endearment, no matter how accidental it might have been, rather than the humour at his dumb mistake. 

“It’s the smaller, wedge shaped pieces that are cloves, please don’t mix that up if you make this without my help.” Ashton chuckled, breaking six cloves from the bulb and picking up a tiny knife he’d laid out next to the oven. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” Michael pouted. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.” 

Ashton gave him a fond smile. “You’re not alone in that, I promise…” 

It was hard not to feel comforted by Ashton’s lopsided smile, so most of his embarrassment slipped away fairly quickly. 

“I just chop off the little hard parts at the bottom of each clove and peel the skin off before chopping it directly into the pan. Don’t chop it on a board or you’ll lose some of the flavour.” Ashton explained carefully. 

Michael watched with interest as Ashton demonstrated his technique with the first two cloves. He handed the third to Michael along with the knife and gestures for him to add it to the pan. 

It took him probably three times longer to chop that one clove into the pan, than it took Ashton to do the first two, but he was encouraging and patient. The older man praised Michael for completing the tiny task, seeming genuinely impressed.

Once all six cloves of garlic had been added to the pan, Ashton turned on the hob into a medium heat. “Okay, so we stir this together for about five minutes. Can you do that while I open the tin of tomatoes?” 

Michael nodded, picking up the wooden spoon from the counter and storing the simmering ingredients together. It already kinda smelt like his favourite Italian restaurant and his tummy grumbled impatiently. 

“One thing I should specify is, you need to use tins of whole tomatoes, not chopped.” Ashton explained as he poured the first tin of tomatoes into the sizzling pan. “Can you pour in the second one?” 

Michael did as he was told and watched as Ashton squished the whole tomatoes down and stored them into the red eat of the ingredients. 

“Mmm it smells so good.” Michael sighed, breathing in the delicious smells. 

Ashton looked proud of himself as he offered a smile. “Can you take over the stirring while I add the salt?” 

Michael took the spoon from Ashton, ensuring that their fingers brushed. 

There was a moment of eye contact and a silent shifting of tension between the two of them. If ever there was a time to bite the bullet and kiss Ashton, now would be it. His nerves failed him though and he dropped his gaze to the simmering pan. 

Instead of moving around Michael to pick up the salt as he’d done for the tomatoes, Ashton simply reached past the blonde, pushing him against the counter momentarily before he pulled back to add the salt to the pan. 

If Michael had been fully alert, he’d have recognised that for the flirtatious move it was meant to be, as it was, he put it down to a simple lack of judgement on Ashton’s part and continued to concentrate on stirring the sauce.

***

The tomato pasta tasted as good as it had smelt. It turned out to be exactly what Michael’s hungover body had needed. 

He and Ashton had eaten it at their little table in the kitchen. Conversation had flowed freely as always, skirting around flirtatious at times but never quite enough for Michael to pluck up the courage to take things further. 

“The only thing that would have made that better would have been a nice glass of white wine, but I thought you were still a bit too delicate for that.” Ashton giggled as he picked up the empty plates from the table and carried them over to the kitchen sink. 

“Hey, you drank as much as I did!” Michael pouted, picking up the empty glasses and following Ashton to the sink. “How’re you not hungover.” 

Ashton chuckled as he ran the water into the washing up bowl. “You’re just a lightweight, Mikey.” 

It wasn’t the first time Michael had been called that so it didn’t take him by surprise. He laughed it off as he grabbed a tea cloth ready to dry the dishes that Ashton washed. “One day you’ll stop teasing me, Irwin.” 

Ashton shook his head. “Don’t count on it, babe… you’re too easy to make fun of, that’s not my fault.” 

There it was again, that little slip, a fond nickname that roommates probably shouldn’t have for one another. 

Quickly pulling himself together, Michael nudged his flatmate in the arm, just hard enough to pull a surprised “oof” from him. 

“Careful now.” Ashton warned jokingly. “You don’t want to start a scuffle you can’t finish, Clifford.” 

Michael threw caution to the wind and nudged Ashton again, deliberately keeping his gaze on the plate he was drying. 

“That’s it!” Ashton huffed, scooping up a handful of bubbles and swiping them across Michael’s face. 

The blonde spluttered and shook his damp fringe out of his face before fixing Ashton with a glare. A few acts of retaliation flashed through his mind. He could have whipped Ashton with the tea cloth or splashed him with dishwater but none of that happened. 

There was something about the way Ashton’s eyes were sparkling, almost like he was daring Michael to do the thing he’d been too scared to do this whole time. He refused to let another opportunity pass like before when they were making the pasta sauce. Michael tried not to overthink as he stepped forward and cupped Ashton’s face with one hand before leaning in and kissing him. 

The raven-haired man’s lips felt every bit as soft as they had done on that night seven months ago. Ashton didn’t kiss back with the same hunger and desperation that he had done back then, though. 

Michael stepped back, feeling his cheeks heat up in an embarrassed blush. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Ash…” 

Ashton bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at Michael intently. “No…” He said, finally breaking his silence. “You just shouldn’t have waited so long.” 

The older man’s words had barely penetrated Michael’s brain before he was being  pressed against the counter behind him. Ashton’s lips were on his again but this time they were working just like they had been that night at Ashton’s old place. 

The intense kiss pulled a whine from Michael and he automatically wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck. 

It started as a fairly simple kiss but it quickly began to build momentum. It was the crack in the dam holding back all of their emotions for all this time. 

“Ashton…” Michael gasped as they pulled apart for air. “I know we said we should just be friends but…” 

“Fuck being just friends.” Ashton mumbled as he worked kisses down Michael's neck. “I can’t pretend anymore.” 

Those words were all Michael needed to hear in order to relax into this. “I can’t tell you how bad I’ve wanted this.” He whispered. 

Ashton slipped one of his thighs between Michael’s as he nipped at the blonde’s neck. “I think I have some idea.” He groaned. “I never stopped thinking of the way you moaned my name that night, Michael.” The older man confessed, pulling back just enough to look Michael in the eye. “Wanted it again since the moment I walked in here.” 

The way Ashton was looking at him like he wanted to devour every inch of Michael, had the blonde melting. “Me too.” He crashed his lips against Ashton’s in another desperate kiss as he subconsciously rutted against the older man’s thigh. After the months Michael had spent feeling kind of lonely and touch-starved, the tiny amount of friction was enough to have him whimpering against Ashton’s lips. 

“Uh, you sound and taste even better than I remember.” Ashton muttered, pressing his thigh harder against Michael’s crotch to pull another little gasp from him. 

“Ashton! Fuck, please, I…” Michael’s head tipped back as he lost his fight to regain any sort of control over his own body. He was in Ashton’s control now, and Ashton knew it.  

“Come on…” Ashton coaxed, stepping back from Michael as he took both of his hands in his to pull him away from the kitchen counter. Michael whined high in his throat as he easily followed where Ashton led. 

Michael had hardly been into Ashton’s bedroom since he had helped him move some furniture the day he moved in; it had almost felt too intimate to go into Ashton’s personal space given the history between them. Seeing it now, cozy and dark with slithers of light coming through the window from the lamp posts outside, gave Michael a chill; it felt like Ashton was sharing a secret with him.

He followed Ashton’s lead dutifully all the way to the bed, accepting the deep kiss Ashton offered him as a reward, before the older man peeled his oversized sweater from his torso, breaking away to pull it over Michael’s head. Michael wanted more contact, but was disappointed when Ashton gently but decisively laid him down among the crisp sheets, instead. 

Ashton pulled his own t-shirt over his head in one fluid motion and flicked the lamp on his bedside table on, bathing the bed in a warm glow that made Michael feel like he was in a dream. 

Michael gazed in wonder at Ashton as he climbed into bed beside him, letting his eyes travel all over his arms and chest, taking in the extra tone and definition in his body since the last time he’d been able to stare at him like this; clearly, the yoga was doing more than just allowing Ashton to ‘find his centre’. 

He didn’t think he was anything special to look at, but he could see Ashton mirroring his own actions, eyes full of lust searching all over the parts of Michael’s body he could see, and even his gaze lingering on a part he couldn’t.

 “Ash,” Michael breathed out, surprising himself with how far gone he sounded already. “Take ‘em off, I wanna…” He trailed off as Ashton’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, holding eye contact for only a moment before he nodded almost imperceptibly, shuffling down the bed and taking hold of the waistband of Michael’s sweatpants. He returned his gaze to the pale man before him, biting his own lip as he allowed his fingertips to graze the skin of Michael’s hips. “These too?” Ashton questioned in a low voice as he brushed the fabric of Michael’s underwear.    

“Oh God, yeah”, Michael answered, squirming slightly from the infuriatingly gentle feel of Ashton’s touch. Ashton didn’t need to be told twice. Michael shivered with the feeling of being suddenly completely exposed as his sweatpants and underwear hit the carpet. Michael looked up at Ashton through his lashes, braced up on his knees in his black, ripped jeans. “You’d better be planning on losing those in the next second, Irwin.”

Ashton smirked as he undid his jeans. “And I mean your underwear, too!” Michael amended hastily, hungry to see if his memory of Ashton’s body was accurate. 

The dark-haired man’s smirk grew wider at Michael’s clarification, pulling his zip down and allowing his jeans to fall open, exposing only bare skin beneath. “Underwear?” 

Michael’s jaw dropped a little, prompting a deliciously filthy laugh from his roommate. “For the record, roomie - I don’t wear underwear.” Ashton winked as he yanked his jeans down as far as he could in his current position, before wriggling around to pull them off completely. Michael was pleased to see that, if anything, his memory had been selling Ashton short. Blame it on the alcohol. 

Michael didn’t know how to decide on what to do first; on one hand, he wanted to kiss Ashton non-stop for the rest of eternity, but on the other hand, if he didn’t get filled up in the next 10 minutes, he was definitely going to throw a tantrum. Luckily, he realised, it probably wasn’t up to him. All of his experience with Ashton so far told him that the older man would definitely be taking the lead, and this was definitely not a problem for Michael. Indeed, it had worked out very well for him last time, when his staff night out started at the bar and ended with Ashton eating him out like his life depended on it. 

“What are you thinking?” Ashton’s sultry voice broke through his thoughts, apparently wanting a coherent answer despite the fact that he had just begun to run his fingers up and down Michael’s sensitive, pale inner thighs. Michael let out a shuddery breath as he tried to use his words to tell Ashton he wanted anything and everything possible between them, right there and then. Perhaps the way his cock twitched when Ashton let one his nails run over a faded stretch mark right at the base of one of his thighs would speak for itself. 

“Maybe we should get right to, huh, gorgeous?” Ashton teased, withdrawing his touches to lean towards his bedside table. He pulled open the top drawer, fumbling only for a moment until he found what he was looking for. The lube and condom were dropped carelessly onto the mattress as he shut the drawer again, returning his attention to the man almost-beneath him immediately. “We’ve got plenty of time for all the other goods stuff; right now, I need to fuck you, and I know you need me to fuck you...don’t you?”

Michael wondered at what point in his life he had begun to communicate exclusively in whines, but Ashton seemed to be into it, so it didn’t matter. Michael watched impatiently as Ashton popped the top on the half-empty bottle of lube, wasting no time in squirting a generous amount onto two fingers on his right hand and pulling Michael’s leg fully around his hip with his left.

Michael’s heart jumped as much as his cock when Ashton breathed gently on the lube coating his fingers in an attempt to warm it slightly before he brought them straight down to Michael’s bare hole, rubbing over it in a firm circle.

Michael was glad he didn’t have the problem of not wanting his roommate to hear him getting fucked, anymore, as he let out his loudest, neediest whine yet. Ashton proved he had meant what he said about not taking their time with their second tryst, sinking his index finger inside Michael in one fluid motion. Before Michael had got to 10, Ashton was opening him up at a steady, delicious pace and was driving Michael crazy in record time. 

Michael wouldn’t claim to be a pornstar or anything, but he didn’t normally have a problem with stamina. If Ashton kept it up like this, though, Michael was in danger of coming before Ashton’s thick cock got any closer to him, and that was unacceptable.

“Ash, please, I can’t...I want, ne-your cock, please!” Michael cried out as Ashton probed his spot one last time before immediately acquiescing to Michael’s begging. Michael wriggled at the loss of Ashton’s fingers, but took comfort in the fact that Ashton was already tearing the condom packet open. 

Michael watched in awe-tinged anticipation as Ashton gave himself a couple of loose tugs once he had the condom on, before closing in on his lover once more, making sure Michael was laid comfortably on the pillows as he positioned himself over him. Michael clung to Ashton’s shoulders as he lined himself up, just resting the tip on Michael’s slick hole for a moment.

Ashton’s hazel eyes bore down into Michael’s green ones with a soft fire as he raised one hand to brush Michael’s fringe out of his flushed face. Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding as Ashton pushed in - slowly, but all the way.. He felt like he was sinking and floating simultaneously, and wrapped his arms around Ashton’s neck to anchor himself here, with him, in this moment. 

Ashton pressed his face deep into Michael’s neck, kissing and sucking his way up towards Michael’s ear. “You good?” He murmured, shifting his hips a miniscule amount. “Yeah,” Michael breathed, “S’good, please…”.

With a final nip to Michael’s neck, Ashton pulled back slightly and began to move his hips properly, his cock sliding halfway out each time as he began to build a steady rhythm for them. Michael felt that perhaps in their sexual relationship so far, he was earning himself the reputation of a bit of a Pillow Princess, and so he began to move his own hips to meet Ashton’s building thrusts. Ashton groaned, long and loud, at the heightened sensations Michael’s movements brought, and they began to work together towards their goal. 

Suddenly, Ashton’s mouth was crowding his, his tongue sliding into his mouth in a glorious kiss that Michael never wanted to end. He couldn’t tell if it had been 10 minutes or 10 hours when he felt that familiar feeling begin to bubble in the lower stomach. Ashton had begun to up the pace of his thrusts, his hips occasionally stuttering as groans rumbled low in his throat, so Michael knew they were on the same page. 

“Ash,” He murmured in the millisecond between kisses. “Touch me, please, I’m getting so-” Michael broke off into a moan as Ashton was already wrapping a firm hand around his neglected cock, stroking it with determination and flicking his thumb over Michael’s dripping head. “You close, baby?” He murmured, eyes drifting over Michael’s face and the arousal present there. Michael was starting to writhe slightly and his head was flopping to the side on the pillow, but Ashton wanted his attention. With his free hand, he took Michael’s chin and turned his head to meet Ashton’s stare. The moment Michael was forced to meet his strong, heated gaze, his hazel eyes boring down on him with such intensity, Michael felt the kick of heat and it was all over. He cried out Ashton’s name and let out a series of curses and moans as he came, hard and hot over Ashton’s hand and their sweaty stomachs in equal measure.

Michael hadn’t finished himself before he felt Ashton taken by surprise, as well; his hips shooting forward to fill him to the hilt for the last time as he spilt into the condom, releasing Michael’s chin to brace himself through his orgasm on the pillows. “Michael, fuck!”

Michael regained enough control to watch Ashton’s face through hooded eyes as he came, moaning and unrestrained as he finished. He thought he looked heavenly. 

As they both fought to catch their breath, Ashton pulled out gingerly, releasing Michael from his grip as he moved away to remove and dispose of the condom. Michael wriggled in place, trying to get comfortable to recover from what he hoped would be the first of many. Ashton came back from the bin in the corner and flopped back down, alongside Michael now, lifting his arm to allow Michael to snuggle in under it when he wrapped it around him. “So…” He said, sounding casual as you like. “About the whole platonic, friendly, roommate thing…”

masterlist for the 5sos ficwriters collab  • my masterlist