#But yeah the generic indeed one has gotten me jobs in the past but it sucks on return rate

[henpeckedho]

Boring Life Update:

I'm bad at follow through so I expect none of these interview and job offers to work out but I turned down three interviews (I wasn't looking at locations and it's a long, dangerous drive to get to the next city over) and have an in person tomorrow in the afternoon.

I was supposed to have a phone interview with yet another place but they never called me, which is a bummer but it happens.

All the interest is giving me a lot of comfort to know I don't suck. I'm still working on separating my self worth from my productivity, honestly, but the mood boost is nice in the meantime.

And in far more interesting news, I'm less than 3 hours away from completing the last Banished achievement which takes a minimum of 33.3 real life hours to finish.

[lsvdw-blog]

Not a Minute More: Part I

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings; Rating: Minor angst at the end; General

Premise: Ethan and MC are living in a honeymoon bliss and going about their normal routine. Then something happens that rocks Ethan to his core and threatens to change his life.

Author’s Note: New series comin' at ya! This is my first time writing fluff, so please excuse me if it's cringey 😅 Thank you to @choiceskatie for pre-reading!! I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💖

~ Monday, 7:00am ~

“Good morning, handsome.”

Serena walks up to an omelette-making Ethan, wraps her arms around his waist, and places a gentle kiss on his shoulder blade.

Ethan places one hand over hers, a smile spreading across his face, while the other wields a spatula.

He plates the omelette, turns the stove off, and turns in Serena’s arms to face her. He tightly envelops her, placing a sweet kiss on her lips.

“Good morning, indeed,” he smiles.

“Mmm, that’s my line,” she says, her hands moving leisurely up his bare chest, and her eyes trailing hungrily over his gym-honed physique.

Ethan lets out a hearty chuckle, turning slightly to grab their breakfast.

“As much as I’d love to take you back to bed," he gives her a quick peck, "you have a big day ahead of you, so,” he hands her a plate, “actual protein.”

“Buzzkill,” Serena pouts as she takes the ham, cheese, and veggie omelette from him. Ethan shakes his head in amusement and places one hand on her lower back to guide her towards the dining room table.

“For now, but in 10 hours…” he raises an eyebrow and smirks at her.

“10 hours and not a minute more,” she responds, sitting down, and giving him a stern look.

He laughs again. Something he’s been doing a lot more of since she came into his life. “Yes, baby.”

That seems to please Serena as she smiles and does a little wiggle in her chair, cutting into her omelette.

His apartment overlooks the glittering Charles River and the towering Boston skyline — a view people would kill for. But he’s not paying attention. His eyes are trained on the woman next to him. His t-shirt falls to her mid-thighs, her midnight hair tied at the nape of her neck, and the dainty gold necklace she never takes off is brilliant in the early morning glow. Serena shifts slightly and the faint smell of sunscreen wafts towards him.

“SPF on the face is important!” He grins at the memory.

She spends most of her time at Ethan's place nowadays. It's more private, compared to her shared apartment, and there's more space for them to sprawl out and be a couple. They cook dinner together, with Ethan learning to make her favorite dishes and incessantly asking her to taste test to ensure he gets the flavor right. They've made loading the dishwasher and walking Jenner into a two person job. He's even caught her stashing away some of his clothes in her overnight bag before: "I'm borrowing them!"

On the off nights when she insists on staying at her place to catch up on laundry or spend time with her friends, Ethan goes home to a dark and unwelcoming apartment. There is no source of laughter, light, or warmth. He never noticed it before, but now, Serena is his source of all of that, and more. Home is wherever she is.

How did I get so lucky?

“Why aren’t you eating?” Her head is tilted to the side and her brows are slightly furrowed.

Her question brings him out of his trance. He stares at her for a beat, his azure eyes filled with adoration. “Just admiring the view.”

Serena rolls her eyes and goes to playfully smack his arm, but he catches it. Interlaces their fingers and brings it to his lips. Her eyes soften as they gaze at each other.

“I could get used to mornings like this, you know," he rumbles.

"Yeah?"

He nods his head. "Yeah. I love spending them with you."

"The feeling is mutual, Dr. Ramsey." She leans in, stopping a hair's breadth away from his lips. "But I gotta get ready for my big day now," she says with a glint in her eye.

Ethan tries, and fails, to catch her lips with his own as she leans away and gets up from the table. "You're such a tease."

"Am I? Or are you just getting slow in your old age?" She playfully retorts.

Ethan stands abruptly from the table, chasing after her. Serena squeals in surprise and takes off towards the ensuite.

~ 7:40am ~

Ethan is leaning against the doorframe, arms and feet crossed, admiring Serena as she applies the finishing touches to her makeup.

"How many times are you going to stare at me today?" Serena questions.

He pushes off the doorframe and walks over to her. "As many times as you'll allow Rookie."

He hugs her waist. "Are you ready for today?"

Serena sighs and leans back into him. "I'm a little nervous. If testing doesn't go well today, we'll have to start from scratch. All our work, gone."

For the past few months, Serena has been consulting on a classified research project headed by scientists and engineers at Harvard University. The team was incredibly impressed with her capabilities, shown in saving Dr. Banerji's life and being the 2nd youngest member of the renowned Edenbrook Diagnostics Team, and liked that she provided a younger perspective. They brought her on and Ethan makes the 15 minute detour to drop her off three times a week.

"You all are ready. It will go great."

She locks eyes with him in the mirror. "Thank you, E."

~ 8:15am ~

Ethan puts the car in park, turns on his hazards, and turns to look at her.

"I can't wait to hear all about how today was an absolute success. You don't need it, but good luck." He squeezes her hand.

She nods. "Only 8 hours and 45 minutes left."

"And not a minute more," he smiles at her before leaning in to kiss her.

Ethan pulls away first, not wanting her to be late, but Serena continues to go back in for more soft kisses. After the sixth one, she finally pulls away smiling. She opens the car door, swings her legs out, and walks through the secured entrance.

~ 11:00am ~

The Diagnostics Team currently has no patients, so Ethan's morning is mundane, filled with meetings and endless paperwork. He itches to call Serena to break up the monotony, but knows she won't have her phone on her until lunch: no cell phones allowed in the lab. He settles on sending her a quick text — it'll be waiting for her. He pulls up their messaging thread, sends the text, and his eyes wander upward to see the remnants of their last conversation.

She had gotten, and dressed, Jenner in a new bow tie. She then blew up Ethan's phone with photos of Jenner, photos of her and Jenner, and even a few where she was wearing one of Ethan's bow ties to match.

"Look, we're twins!!"

Ethan re-scrolls through all of the photos and can't help the smile that lights up his face at how excited she gets about a small accessory for his dog. God, I love her.

There it is again, Ethan thinks. The 3 words and 8 letters that he never thought he'd feel, let alone want to voice. This feeling has become overwhelming in the past few weeks. He's reminded of it whenever he inhales the lingering scent of her perfume in the office, when he finds one of her forgotten face products at his place, the small moments they share when she sneaks away to visit him, "just because." It consumes him and makes his heart swell.

But he knows she's been extremely stressed with project duties, on top of handling the Diagnostics Team and regular patients. It just doesn't seem right to blurt it out when she's juggling so many things. But if all goes well, her portion of the project ends on Thursday and she'll be back to her normal workload. That's why he's been secretly making romantic plans for this weekend, not only to celebrate her success, but to also finally tell her how he feels. He wants the first time he utters those words to her to be special. Magical. Extraordinary. Just like her.

Just then, his pager beeps and he's pulled out of his second Serena trance of the day. He sets his phone down on the table, pulls out his pager, and is met with a message from Dr. Delarosa, asking for a consult. Just as he exits through the door, his phone lights up with a photo of Serena and her incoming call.

~ 2:15pm ~

The consultation with Ines turned into admitting the patient under the Diagnostics Team and the rest of the afternoon was spent running through possible diagnoses. Before he knew it, it had been over 3 hours and Ethan hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning. He can't help but think how much easier this case would be with Serena here and her perspective. Not only does her presence help keep him calm, but she always comes up with suggestions that would inevitably lead to the correct diagnosis. He throws his glasses on the table and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.

He begins to stand, wanting to make his way to his desk, intending to call Serena on the off chance she picks up. However, before he's even able to reach his full height, Dr. Banerji walks in.

"My boy, are you busy?"

"No. Am I needed somewhere?"

Naveen looks at him for a beat too long, causing Ethan's confusion to spike. Naveen walks to the center table and switches on the TV. There, panning around the screen is an aerial view of the Harvard University lab complex, surrounded by police cars and SWAT members, as well as multiple aircraft. In bold letters, scrolling endlessly across the bottom of the screen is: Possible attack at Harvard University labs. On lockdown.

Ethan gawks at the screen with wide eyes and his pulse immediately picks up.

"Isn't Serena at Harvard labs today?"

~~~~~~

Disclaimer: I know Ethan starts his day and gets to the hospital at an ungodly hour, but let's ignore that bc I am my MC is not a morning person 😅

[schrijverr]

Hold Me Together

Chapter 2 out of 4

Eliot gets hurt on a job and then sick. Hardison and Parker waste no time to jump in to care for him and it becomes harder and harder to say no to their care when it’s just so nice. After he has a nightmare, they’re there for him and feelings come to light.

AKA Eliot has a terrible time physically (and partly emotionally), but gets lots of cuddles and two partners in the end.

On AO3.

Ships: Thiefsome OT3

Warnings: Eliot's low self-esteem and the flu

~~~~~~~~~~

Pull Me Close

When he awoke the next morning, he was pinned down by two warm weights at his sides. He kept his breathing steady, as if he were still asleep while he assessed the situation, before last night came back to him.

He felt a heat rising to his cheeks as he cracked open one eye to look, the other having swollen shut throughout the night. It was indeed Parker and Hardison who were pinning him down and he knew he couldn't sneak out without them noticing right now. He was trapped and sooner or later he would have to face them again.

Quietly he sorted through everything, hoping to come up with a plan to make this less awkward for everyone involved.

If he moved now, they would wake up and know he was awake and he would have to talk to them, but if he pretended to still be asleep maybe they’d leave him alone, however that would be unrealistic, because he would never sleep through them waking up and it was creepy to pretend to sleep just so that you could enjoy laying in the warmth of your two coworkers that you were in love with without having to deal with the mess that made.

But, fuck, he was comfortable. More comfortable that he’d been in years. The pain had dulled a lot and he was warm and cozy under the sheets with Parker and Hardison there. Hardison snored softly and Parker’s fingers skittered over him in her sleep, almost miming a pickpocket.

It was something nice that he would never have, never deserve. And while it was selfish, he didn’t want it to end just yet.

Still, he had no say in that and all his thinking was for naught when his door slammed open and the familiar silhouette of Nate appeared, saying: “Ah, there you all are. It’s eight, we want to leave as soon as we can.”

“We’ll be there,” Parker chirped, having gone from fast asleep to awake in a moment. Nate nodded at her, before leaving.

On Eliot’s other side, Hardison was taking his time, burrowing his face into Eliot’s uninjured shoulder as he whined softly. Eliot couldn't blame him, they’d gotten to the hotel around three in the morning, so they’d had less than five hours if it was eight now. Still, the hot breaths on his neck were not good if he wanted to keep this platonic, so he poked Hardison and grouched: “Get off me, man.”

“Wha?” Hardison looked up, smiling in a way that made Eliot’s heart twist when he saw it, before he said: “Hey, it’s you. How you doin’?”

“I’m fine, slight headache and sore muscles,,” Eliot told him honestly. “I’ll be up and running in no time, now just get off me so that I can get up.”

“Your eye is bruised,” Hardison frowned, noticing the black eye that had been a light bruise a few hours ago.

“Yeah,” Parker agreed poking it and making him wince.

“Don’t touch it, Parker,” he said, leading her hand away from his face. “It’s fine, just a bruise that I forgot to cool, it’s nothing. Now stop pinning me to the mattress.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, man,” Hardison got off and Eliot could see the other man was just wearing sweatpants nothing else and his face got a bit hot again, so he looked to the other side, only to discover that Parker was in nothing but a shirt and underwear. God either loved or hated him very much.

So, instead of focusing on them, he focused on getting to a sitting position, pleased to find he could do that on his own.

He was still in Hardison’s hoodie and his own sweatpants and he really didn’t want to change. This was comfortable and warm and it would be easy to take off at home when he was by himself again, which twisted something cold in his chest. Besides he could always wash it and give it back later, an excuse to keep it for a little while. He asked: “Hey, man, can I keep this for today?” as he rubbed the sleeves between his fingers, trying not to think how sad it was that he wanted to keep it, just craving a bit of comfort for today. He still felt groggy and generally uncomfortable.

Hardison looked over, a strange look coming over his face when he saw how the sleeves fell over Eliot’s hands, before he nodded: “Yeah, course.”

“Cool, thanks.” Now this was just getting awkward, so Eliot swung his legs over the side of the bed where Parker had been, since she had disappeared a few seconds ago.

Before he could stand up, however, Hardison was crawling after him, nearly toppling off the bed, before he said: “Wait! Stop. You can’t just do that, Eliot. Your ankle is hurt.”

“Me and my ankle will live,” Eliot informed him. It would be slightly painful to walk, but not impossible.

“Just let me help for a moment,” Hardison asked, quickly pulling on a shirt he found on the floor, before offering a hand.

Eliot rolled his eyes at the fussing, but he was also selfish enough to allow it. It was going to be over soon anyway, why not enjoy a bit of contact? Hardison wanted to help, so it wasn’t taking advantage of it, and not putting any weight on his ankle would be a smart move.

So, they made their way downstairs, with Hardison carrying Eliot’s bag and laying his hand on Eliot’s waist again, while Parker met them at the elevator, her and Hardison’s stuff in hand almost as if they’d planned this.

He tried not to think about it as Hardison led him to the table where Sophie was sitting, before telling him he was to stay there and that Hardison would get him a plate from the buffet. Once he was gone, Sophie leaned over and asked: “So, good night?”

“Was fine,” he replied, eyeing her suspiciously after she’d grinned at him and flicked her eyes towards Hardison and Parker. Had she figured out his feelings? Was he being obvious? Did she think something happened between them? Trying to play it cool, he added: “Got more than 90 minutes of sleep for a change.”

“Oh, your productivity out the door like that,” she teased, luckily dropping any suggestiveness and prying.

“I was productive in healing my body,” he shot back, hiding his relief.

Sophie frowned at his face, cocking her head. “I can see that,” she said sarcastically.

“Come on, Soph, this is not my first black eye,” Eliot said. “My stitches are clean, my ankle is wrapped, my shoulder is back. I’m as good as I can be, little swollen eye is nothing. Could be much worse. Has been in the past.”

At that point Hardison came back with a plate of stuff Eliot actually liked, which touched him more than he’d liked to admit. He put the plate down in front of Eliot, inserting himself into the conversation: “Is he trying to tell you he’s fine by telling you everything that’s wrong with him and reminding you that he’s had a shit life?”

“Yes, it’s not really working,” Sophie said, before Eliot could protest that it was useful, because he was reminding them this was his job and it was okay, that he was okay and taken care off, because all his wounds were clean and it wasn’t that bad.

Instead of saying all that, however, he shoved a fork of food into his mouth and glowered: “See if I ever tell you about my injuries again.”

“He’s grouching, that means he’s okay, right?” Parker asked, poking his cheek again.

“Stop that, Parker,” he snapped, not really mad at her, because he was weak and would do anything to make her happy.

“Jup, he’s okay,” Hardison said, smiling and Eliot wanted to smack him, but he was right and cute, so he couldn’t. “And he’s telling us about his injuries next time.”

“Or we’ll force him!” Parker added enthusiastically.

“Was it that bad?” Sophie was immediately worried again and Eliot wanted them to stop fussing, because it felt weird and twisty in his chest when they did and he hated that he didn’t know what to do with the feeling.

“No, it wasn’t, I’m-” he got cut off by Hardison, who said: “He was kinda out of it for a bit, but nothing we couldn't handle. He was a bit grumpy about the whole thing, but he’s always like that. We just need to keep his leg up and as cool as we can during the drive and he should be set. Probably sleep a bit on the way too.”

“And how am going to sleep in that crappy van?” Eliot grouched. He wanted to protest it all, but no one was listening to him, so protesting seemed a bit redundant. Besides it was hard to be mad at them about it when it seemed like they all cared about his well being and the twisty feeling in his chest was only getting twistier.

“Excuse you, Lucille is a beautiful lady and you will treat her as such,” Hardison began. “And second off, you can sleep in the backseat. There’s a storage area between the front seats that you can rest you foot on. Promise me and Parker won’t bother your little nap.”

“I’m not sleeping in the van,” not between the two of you, he added mentally. “And why don’t I get to sit up front? Don’t I have injured rights?”

“No, there’s more space on the backseat and Nate’s driving and you’re horrible when Nate drives,” Hardison explained.

“I’m not horrible when Nate drives, he just sucks at driving,” Eliot frowned.

“He turned on his blinker once and you got annoyed, because it was too early, Eliot,” Sophie pointed out.

“Yeah and what about that time you said he switched lanes wrong,” Parker said. “You were very scary. You’re not even that scary when I drive and everyone hates my driving.”

“I can’t help that Nate can’t drive,” Eliot crossed his arms.

From behind him Nate’s voice said: “I’m glad you think so highly off my driving skills. You’re in the back seat, I don’t need you to grouch at me for hours about holding the steering wheel wrong or whatever you come up with.”

Eliot had registered him coming up behind him, but he didn’t care that Nate heard. He wanted to be mad about being injured and unable to fight, but he wasn’t able to, so he was going to be mad about something else and right now that was Nate’s driving and being in the back seat. He frowned (frowned, not pouted, Hardison): “I’m still gonna yell at you from the back.”

“Sure you are,” Nate said as he started to walk off with a cup of coffee. “Our mark has officially been taken into custody and the victims have been repaid. I want to be home before dinner, so buckle up everyone.”

They grumbled and groaned about it being too earlier to pack up, but no one stayed seated. This time it was Parker steadying him while Hardison carried all their stuff to Lucille.

Getting back into Lucille was another problem and Eliot was glad Nate and Sophie had already gotten into the van, because this was embarrassing enough as it was without onlookers.

Hardison had to support him fully on the left side, where his injured ankle was, but not his ex-dislocated shoulder, while Parker physically put his uninjured foot into Lucille. Then Hardison hoisted them into the van with Parker making sure they wouldn't fall back, until they were in and they could shuffle forwards and get seated.

Eliot was determined not to be visibly injured, so he crossed his arms and planted his feet on the ground, before staring ahead, vowing to keep his one, not swollen eye firmly open for the entire ride.

His plan was ruined by Parker the moment she settled on his other side, because she leaned forwards and put his leg on the little platform and right as he was about to protest, she put a bag of ice cubes on his foot and that actually felt really nice, so he cut himself off with a soft, grumpy thanks. She smiled: “Of course,” before handing him another ice cube bag for his eye.

Still, he could be awake and grumpy about everything, even when they were treating him like he was terribly injured, which he could understand after the fucking spectacle he made of himself last night. So he just told Nate that he shouldn’t pull up so fast, which earned him a glare from the man through the rear view mirror that he ignored.

Parker was on his right fiddling with one of her locks while she gazed out the window. Hardison was on his left and tapping away on a screen that was moving too fast for Eliot to follow. It was peaceful and they talked with each other softly, though Eliot didn’t have the energy to add his own commentary.

He felt bad about being in the middle of them again when they had already missed each other last night because of him. They hadn’t even seen each other during the job either with Hardison on tech support and Parker running between stealing and grifting.

He didn’t know how to bring it up that he wouldn’t mind switching with Hardison so that they could be next to each other and he could lean against the window. It wasn’t that he was tired and wanted to lean against something, he just wanted to have a clear line of sight, that was all.

The ice was slowly melting, until he had two bags of water and they were nearing their first stop, where Nate pulled over. Sophie would be driving the next stretch, because car-safety and all that jazz.

“Want me to get you anything?” Hardison asked when it became clear that Eliot wasn’t leaving the van.

“Nah, I’m good,” he said. “Maybe switch places with me? I can’t lean against anything in the middle.” He didn’t add: ‘and I’m sure you missed Parker,’ partially because he knew it would have come out sounding bitter and that was something he did not need to deal with, both mentally and in real life.

Hardison raised a brow. “And where are you going to rest you foot if you’re on the left? And I know you ain’t going to be on the right, I heard your shoulder that shit was just wrong.”

“I’ll be fine without resting my foot anywhere. Dammit, Hardison,” Eliot frowned, not sure why the hacker was even fighting him on this.

“You can lean against me, promise I won’t draw on your face,” Hardison said, before walking away so that Eliot couldn't reply. Parker skipped up next to him and asked about the drawing on the face with a bit too much glee.

The words caught up with Eliot and he could feel his cheeks getting warmer, which he pushed down immediately. Hardison had offered it so casually, like it wasn’t weird at all that he was turning down the offer of sitting next to his girlfriend so that Eliot could lean against his shoulder. But maybe Eliot was seeing things where there was nothing, he was injured (minor injuries but that didn’t seem to stop Hardison from worrying), so it could just be a normal offer. It wasn’t as if Hardison hadn’t fallen asleep on his shoulder from time to time.

It wouldn't be weird, he didn’t need to make it weird. Besides, he didn’t needto take him up on the offer and lean on Hardison. He could just not sleep and keep on looking forwards. Yeah, that was a plan.

Soon the others came back, piling into the van once more, with Parker shoving two cold things in his hands as she proudly proclaimed: “They sold ice packs!”

“Oh, thank you, Parker,” he smiled at her, starting to lean forward with a grunt only to find one of the ice packs stolen and being placed on his foot again. He nodded his thanks to Parker, before settling down against the backseat and putting the other ice pack against his eye.

The swelling had gone down already with the ice cubes from the hotel, but the fresh coolness of the ice pack was still welcome.

On his other side, Hardison said: “I managed to convince her not to take the markers, so you’re welcome.”

“And who gave her the idea in the first place,” Eliot shot back, getting an idea. “I’m not risking it by sleeping. You never know if she doesn’t have them anyway.”

“Come on, man, you need the rest,” Hardison tried to argue.

“I already had more sleep than normal, Hardison. I’m fine,” Eliot replied. He did feel tired, but he wasn’t admitting that.

“But I promise I don’t have the markers,” Parker inserted herself into the conversation as well, showing that she only had some hundred dollar bills in her pockets along with some earrings that weren’t hers and a small stuffed mushroom.

“You literally just asked me if we could switch places so that you could lean against something,” it was clear that Hardison wasn’t believing him.

“I thought that you would want to sit next to Parker, sorry for trying to be nice,” he huffed out the truth, hoping it would get them off his back. They stayed silent, so he called out to the front: “Soph, can we please listen to something else, I am so not in the mood for opera.”

Sophie did change the station to something more generic with less high notes that made his head hurt, even if she grumbled: “Someone’s in a mood today.”

He snapped back: “You try getting beat up on a regular basis, see if you’re still sunshine and rainbows after.”

“No, for real, man, you’re never this grouchy,” Hardison frowned, trying to subtly check him over and failing on the subtle part. “Is something wrong? What’s going on?”

“Is there an alien in your stomach controlling you?” Parker asked with wide eyes.

“Dammit, Hardison, I told you not to watch those stupid alien movies with her,” Eliot focused on something other than the uncomfortable questions Hardison had asked.

Because yeah, he was more grouchy than normal and something was wrong, but the something that was wrong was the fact that he had discovered that he was in love with his two best friends and now he was stuck on an eight hour car ride between them after they had seen him vulnerable and he feared that they would catch on or that he was coming between them and it was all the confusing twisty things he had tried to avoid and didn’t want to talk about.

Grouchy didn’t entirely cover that.

“Uhm, excuse you, alien movies are a staple of American culture that everyone should get to experience, so don’t even start there, also you didn’t answer my question,” Hardison told him, leveling him with a stare.

Eliot now had a choice. And it was easily made. “I have a huge headache, Hardison,” he sighed a partially lie, before going on with a whole lie, “I have a headache, I barely slept on the last con and you’re all very loud. I don’t need anyone’s fussing, I just wanted to sit quietly and everyone is making it really hard.”

“Thank you for being honest with us,” Parker said and it was obviously something she’d learned from Sophie and Eliot felt guilty about pretending to be open about his injuries a bit, just so they would get off his back.

“Yeah, man, we’ll be quiet,” Hardison added.

Hardison turned back to his screen and Parker to her locks and Eliot tried not to miss their soft chatter as he closed his eyes and tried to find his zen place.

After how much he’d insisted he wasn’t going to sleep, he was slightly embarrassed that the next moment he was waking up, having been asleep for some time. He could tell Sophie was behind the wheel, which meant he either hadn’t been asleep for long or they were on the last two hour stretch home.

He now registered that the ice pack on his foot had was cool again and the one on his cheek was held in place by someone – Parker his mind supplied – but he was leaning against something, someone, else with his other cheek. He was kind of groggy and he struggled to wake up, blinking bleary until he heard Hardison’s voice near his left ear: “Hey there, finally joining us in the land of the living again, huh?”

“Wha?” he was still feeling disorientated, the headache was much worse than when he’d drifted off and his muscles were sore, he was also cold and his throat ached slightly in the background. He levered himself into a sitting position and tried to take a deep breath to wake up, only to find his nose stuffy.

No.

Fuck no.

It all clicked into place after a second. The confusion, the chills, the headache, sore muscles and throat and then also a stuffy nose. He was sick. He had managed to get himself sick.

“You okay?” Hardison asked, obviously concerned and Eliot felt guilty about having been asleep on his shoulder after everything, as well as guilt because that couldn't have been comfortable and Eliot just cozied up to him again, even when he knew Hardison had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who had been holding his ice pack for him.

He owed those two so much in just the last 24 hours alone, not to mention the past few years. That was something he couldn't pay back and he had treated them like shit and had caught weird feelings for them and gotten in between them.

Tears came to his eyes and he blinked them away as a hole started to eat away at his heart and he couldn't fully push that down, even if he tried.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that his too emotional state of being was due to his lower defenses since he was sick. He felt too exhausted to fight it, but did it after a moment anyway, replacing it with enough grumpiness to be believable.

“‘m fine,” he mumbled, trying not to make his sore throat obvious as he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to wake up. They didn’t need to know he was sick, they would only worry. He would disappear when they got home and come back when he felt better again. “Are we near the brewpub yet?”

“Yes, you slept for so long, it was a bit boring, but your nose whistled and that was funny,” Parker informed him. “Hardison was trapped under you the entire ride.”

Now at that he did blush and avoided Hardison’s eyes as he softly apologized.

“No worries, man, you obviously needed the sleep,” Hardison assured him. “And I wasn’t trapped under you the entire ride, we managed to lever you over to Parker’s shoulder when Nate took Sophie’s place again. We only switched you back last stop.”

“I didn’t wake up?” Eliot asked, frowning, he must be sicker than he thought.

“Slept like a baby,” Hardison said. “Are you sure you’re okay, man?”

“‘m fine, I already said that,” Eliot grouched, trying not to let show how much he wanted to not be okay and wrapped up in a hug or a blanket or something. He was the tough one, he couldn't be weak, because his job was being strong. Just hold on, Eliot, he thought, then you can crash on your bed.

“Your voice sounds off,” Parker observed, “more gravelly than normal. And you didn’t wake up in a second and your eyes are still drooping.” She cocked her head, before her eyes got a knowing gleam in them. He was made. “Do you feel hungry? Or are you nauseous? Are you in any discomfort? Cold, perhaps? How’s your headache?”

“Hey, mama, why don’t you give the man a rest,” Hardison came to his defense. “You’re kinda overwhelming him with questions right now.”

“When has Eliot ever been overwhelmed?” Parker shot back and Eliot cursed her observation skills, there went his plan to hide until he was better.

“What are you getting at, baby?” Hardison frowned.

“She figured out I’m sick,” Eliot snapped, before Parker could tell him. “And I’m right here. No need to talk about me like I’m not.”

“You’re sick?” Nate asked. “How long has that been going on?”

“I only noticed it when I woke up,” Eliot replied, remembering one of Nate’s rules. “I would have told you if I was sick on the con. I wouldn’t have put you all in danger over me being sick, you know that.”

“Is his wound infected?” Sophie asked and before Eliot could tell them that no it was not, because he would have noticed that, two small calloused thief hands crawled under his shirt, feeling at the bandage, before lifting his shirt to inspect it. Parker reported: “The wound is fine.”

“Do we have supplies for soup at home?” Hardison asked.

“I think we have a blanket for him somewhere under the chairs,” Nate said.

“Oehh, we can build a pillow fort!” Parker exclaimed.

“I’m right here,” Eliot grouched, he didn’t need their care. Craved it? Yes. But he didn’t need it and he wasn’t going to let them. He was supposed to be invincible and while they were long past believing that, he couldn't let them see how pathetic he was. “And I don’t need a damn blanket or soup, or a pillow fort. I’m just a bit under the weather and I am fine on my own. I’ll take a few days and then I’m good to go, don’t be so dramatic.”

Hardison looked him over, then looked at Parker and raised his brow in an ‘are you hearing this guy’ manner, before he said: “I can be as dramatic as I want to be.”

“What? No,” Eliot said. “I’m the sick one and if I say I’m fine and you gotta stop being dramatic about it, then you stop being dramatic about it. Simple.”

“Sure, simple,” Hardison said, pulling out the blanket and teamworking with Parker to get it around his shoulders. “Except I worried my ass off last night because you could hardly walk, or even stand on your own and you dazed out constantly while trying to tell us you were fine. So when it comes to you telling me you’re fine, I’m not really trusting you, alright.”

The blanket around his shoulders was warm and he wanted to burrow into it, but he wasn’t giving in so easily.

“Dammit, Hardison, I said I was fine. I don’t need any of your fussing near me, alright. I’m not incompetent. It’s not even that bad,” he yelled, snapping because he had no energy to do anything but snapping or giving in at this point. And giving in wasn’t an option.

“I know you’re not incompetent, Eliot, we all do,” Hardison said, Parker agreeing: “Of course we don’t think that, you’re skilled.”

He crossed his arms and looked away. He knew they didn’t think he was incompetent, they wouldn't trust him with their lives otherwise, but that could change at any moment. He’d seen it happen before, so he wasn’t risking it.

“And I’m also hearing a lot about you don’t needing anything, which I also believe,” Hardison went on in a tone that had Eliot’s guard up. “But I ain’t hearing nothing about wanting. And we care about you, man, how many times have I got to tell you that? We want to take care of you, even if we know you don’t need it.”

“I don’t need anyone playing nurse,” he protested again. It was weak and he knew it, but he had to protest, he had to warn them without explicitly warning them, because that would also be a weakness and- His head hurt and the thoughts in it were swirling and confusing him.

“That kinda looks like a lie to me,” Hardison said, looking him over with concern in his eyes. “And you’re again talking about needing not wanting.”

“Are you okay, Eliot?” Parker was also not happy with his face it seemed, but he knew he must look like a confused, sweating, hurt mess, with a swollen eye and a shivering frame. He had even pitifully burrowed into the blanket without even realizing.

“I’m- I’m- I don’t know,” he finally admitted. He was just tired and upset about feelings he couldn't place. He wanted to crash someplace warm and not have to think for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said again, voice unsteady. “It’s- I- I can never want something. ‘s a weakness.”

If he was paying attention, he could have pinpointed when Hardison’s heart broke by the look in his eye, but instead he was distracted by Parker pulling him into a hug as she said: “I get it, but Hardison taught me how to feel stuff and you taught me how to like stuff, we can teach you how to be taken care of.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Sophie’s voice was slightly fake in her enthusiasm as it came from the front seat, cutting off any half-formed protests from Eliot.

“Me too,” Hardison quickly agreed, throwing an arm over Eliot’s shoulder and pulling him close, until he was leaning against his chest, Parker on his lap like a pretzel. “We’ll teach you how to be taken care off and then you can work on your verbal explanations by teaching me how to make soup for you from the comforts of a bed.”

“Wha- I don’t-” Eliot’s mind was too confused to properly fight the argument, he somewhere knew needed to be fought, while also not wanting to fight it.

“It’s been a lot of don’ts from you, just accept it, alright?” Hardison said, pulling him closer and he wanted to protest again. Really, he did. But he was also very comfortable and warm and he was tired and they’d be home soon. He could fight them again when they were home.

In the end, it turned out that fighting them when they got home was a terrible plan. The sleeping had left him groggy and Nate and Sophie had already disappeared, leaving him with just Hardison’s comforting chattering and Parker’s puppy eyes. He couldn't drive home in this state and both had refused to drive him and he already had a room above the brewpub, so he could go home tomorrow if he felt like it and-

And he gave in, the great Eliot Spencer, defeated by cute little eyes and too many arguments about a comfortable bed nearby. What had his life come to?

His life had come to waking up in a soft bed, that Hardison had managed to get exactly right before he’d even arrived in Portland all those months ago, with a sore throat and muscles, while being nicely warm on his right side where a bony elbow was wedged into his side, while on the other side there was a consistent, comfortingly familiar tapping noise.

He blinked blearily and groaned when a wave of nausea rolled over him, before a coughing fit overtook him. Parker’s warmth disappeared, but Hardison’s voice came: “Hey, hey, you’re alright, you’re alright.”

A glass of water appeared and he took it gratefully, sipping it slowly and letting it sooth his throat and wash away the itch at the back of it.

“You’ve been clonked out for the past few hours, about sixteen. How you feeling?” And Eliot was grateful that Hardison knew him well enough to first tell him how much time he’d lost before asking him about his state.

“I’m fine,” he replied, but his voice was barely a whisper.

“That response is really ingrained, isn’t it, huh?” Hardison said, but there was no judgment in his voice.

“Oehh, is that one of the things we’re teaching him to stop with? Like how I had to look further than the alarms in a museum?” Parker piped up.

“Yeah, exactly, mama,” Hardison’s smile was obvious when he talked. “He can start by telling us how he really feels.”

And Eliot was honestly too tired to follow the conversation, so he gave up on trying and just answered honestly: “Like I’ve been hit by a motorcycle.”

“Not a truck?” Hardison asked.

“No, motorcycle hit is very distinctive.”

“You and your distinctive,” the mutter was more for Hardison himself than him, so he ignored it. “Parker, baby, if I go get the soup, can you make sure he doesn’t drop off again. He needs to eat if he wants to recover.”

“Of course, I’ll keep watch!” Parker saluted and Hardison left the room.

Eliot let his eyes close, content to just lie there, but Parker obviously thought he was falling asleep again, because she poked his right cheek where the bruise was. It was less tender than last time, but still sore, so he hissed: “The fuck, Parker.”

“I need to keep you awake,” she said with wide eyes and he wanted to roll his, but that would make her sad, so he just sighed and leaned back into his pillow, this time with his eyes open.

“What happened?” he asked, trying to put together the little bit of information his brain was willing to give him.

“Well, you were out beating people up in the rain,” she launched into an explanation, “and Hardison says you don’t actually get sick from the rain, but you did get sick and me and Hardison are taking care of you, but you were really grumpy on the drive back, but then you fell asleep. And your nose whistled.”

He let her voice wash over him as she went on.

“But then you woke up and you were really sad about something, but also grouchy and then Hardison did his thing, where he gets people and has like the voice that tells him what you need to hear. He and Sophie both do it, it’s fascinating, he’s teaching me how to do it too. And you gave in, because you wanted to, but you didn’t want to tell us, so we had to crack your emotion safe with our words and now we’re going to teach you how to be taken care of,” she finished.

Wait what? He had put most of the pieces together and part of him had only partially questioned why they were in his bed, but he hadn’t remembered this. He thought they were just here to see if he woke up again and now that he had, he could throw them out of his room (going to his apartment seemed too hard at this point), but not this.

Before the freak out could fully set in, Hardison entered with a bowl of steaming soup. “Here you go, chicken noodle soup, the best for when you’re sick and homemade,” Hardison grinned. “I really want to say by us, but we set a pan on fire and then asked the kitchen staff to make it.”

He wordlessly accepted the soup, still trying to figure out what was going on exactly, how he felt about it and how he would get out of it.

Yeah, okay, what the fuck had his life come to?

~~

A/N:

I really like the idea of Eliot being fine with the insane driving off Sophie and Parker, because it’s at least functional in a getaway situation, but he can’t stand Nate’s just below average driving (personal headcanon) in an everyday situation. It tickles me.

Also I know that Lucille doesn’t have a backseat bench, but the vibes were too good so just go with it

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Two

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2921

Warnings: bad language words, blink and you’ll miss the angst, just some fluff

A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

You awoke with a start, feeling as if you were late for work or something important and forgot to set your alarm. Your heart beat an erratic tattoo against your ribcage. Scrambling for your cell phone, you blindly reached across the side table near your bed in a panic. Unplugging the phone, you brought the device an ungodly closeness to your face. It was only 6:17. On Saturday.

Your pulse throbbed behind your eyeballs, and a strange stickiness coated the inside of your mouth. Did you drink that much last night?

How could you not? Timmons was a fair boss, and you enjoyed your job, but that dude loved the sound of his own voice.

The quarterly business dinners were mandatory for all employees, even for the P.A.s. Typically, they weren’t so bad, but last night, Timmons felt the need to toot his own horn for landing a massive contract with Stark Industries slash The Avengers. He went on and on about how great it was for the firm.

He was like a giant kid in a candy store with his ramblings. ‘We will be promoting the face of The Avengers and everything that goes with it,’ he spouted off like the firm was god’s gift to public relations.

You groaned at the reminder of last night’s presentation. The contract wasn’t even in effect yet, and you were sick of the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Timmons could be a real buzz kill.

Rolling to your back, you brought your phone up to tap the screen to read the emails you received overnight. On display was a text from 11:04 by someone named James. It read: “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Your mind went back to last night again, trying to recall who this James was. He must be significant if you plugged his contact information into your phone already. Had you met someone last night?

Drawing a blank, you clicked on the text bubble to pull up the thread. Briefly scanning through the numerous texts, everything came rushing back. In an attempt to text your sister, Robyn, you mistakenly texted this mysterious, James.

You felt like an utter buffoon when you learned he wasn’t Robyn. You always did have a way with the cute boys. Probably why you were single. You groaned out loud as you read on.

You im safely inside my apartment. Pretty sure no one followed me home

James Did you triple check the lock on the front door?

You yes dad yeesh

James There are a lot of bad people out there. Just want to make sure you’re safe.

You sounds like you watch the news too much but its sweet of u to care

James I know from experience.

You r u the bad guy or have u been the one mugged?

James Let’s just say I have friends that have dealt with the bad things of the world.

You right i almost forgot ur a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie

James Did you ever send your sister a text?

You shit thanks for reminding me i have such a crazy story to tell her

James Only good things, I hope.

You oh yeah all the good things an enigmatic yet handsome stranger cares more about my safety than any of my ex-boyfriends ever did.

James My ma raised me right.

You id say

James_ I hate to cut this short, but I think you need your rest. Especially if you’re meeting your sister tomorrow._

You i dont want to agree but ur probably right

You whats ur name btw?

James My name? Why? Do you plan to continue texting me after tonight?

You duh ur fun to talk to

James Oh.

You or not its cool if u dont want to

James It’s James.

You nice to meet u james im (y/n)

James Nice to meet you as well.

You my sister just texted me back and were still meeting at 9 i should go 

You goodnite james

James Goodnight, (Y/N).

Oh. My. God. Had you seriously drunk-flirted with a stranger and offered to keep texting him? You had no shame with a few drinks in you.

You brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose and sighed loudly.

What did you know of this James? He had a New York area phone number. Check. He could have been a real dick about your mistake but wasn’t. Understanding. Check. He worried about you getting home safely in your inebriated state. Caring. Check. Not too forthcoming with the nine to five. Secretive. Check. His mouth looked so soft and plush, and his eyes were made to drown in. Gorgeous. Check.

A heat simmered beneath your skin as you recounted the shortlist you’d made. Were you lusting over someone you’d exchanged less than forty texts with? Had you somehow woken back up in high school?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you stared at the screen displaying the message thread. Were you really considering this? You nodded your head to answer your own question. Where was the harm in a little shameless flirting? If worse came to worst, you could always block him.

With your mind made up, you began typing into your phone, constructing an apology.

You Good morning! First off, I want to apologize for the way I behaved over text last night.

You Though, I do like to imbibe in the occasional drink or two, I am, by no means, a lush.

You Please take everything I said with a grain of salt. Apparently, I get loose-lipped and cheeky with free wine. 😐

You Again, I’m sorry and understand if you wanted to cease our correspondence for my behavior.

You blew out a breath and tossed your phone aside. It was up to fate now and a stranger named James.

You laid in your bed for several minutes staring at the ceiling, contemplating between whether to send a ‘haha just kidding’ text and what the weather would be like, so you could forego shaving your legs in the shower today.

Your phone chimed during the pondering of hair removal, indicating a new text. You knew it was James proclaiming you a freak and to forget his number, but secretly, you hoped it was Robyn canceling today.

Seizing the phone from your mattress top, your heart’s beat increased with each second you went without looking at the screen. Finding the courage, you flipped the device over to read the message.

James Quite the formal apology, Ms. Professor.

You smiled at the text. It didn’t tell you to pound sand or eat shit. No, it was teasing and in jest. You sighed in relief.

You Cease our correspondence too much?

James No, no it was perfect if this was 1863, and you were breaking up with me via telegraph.

You Stop!

James Exactly! ‘Never speak to me again!’ Stop. ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ Stop.

A belly laugh disrupted the tranquil air of your bedroom. You quickly thumbed out a reply once you caught your breath.

You You’re incorrigible.

James I’m glad to see you are using proper capitalization and punctuation this morning.

You Ha!

You When you are buzzed and/or tipsy, capitals and periods be damned. Like you’re so perfect when you’re drunk.

James We all have our flaws.

Was he implying he was a sloppy texter when drunk, too? You shrugged it off as him being cryptic again.

You What are you doing up so early on a Saturday? I didn’t wake you, did I?

You were suddenly stricken with guilt. You should have waited for a more reasonable hour to send out rapid-fire apology texts. Not at 6:36 in the morning. You didn’t want last night’s behavior hanging over you, though. Better to clear the air now than later. You could always ask for forgiveness again if you had disturbed his sleep.

James I had just gotten back from my run when I saw your texts. I have training this morning.

You Oh, right. For your hush-hush, super top secret mission/quidditch game.

You You ever gonna tell me what you really do?

James_ Maybe. Someday._

How far away was someday? Was he planning to text you until you both died or until he got bored? How did texting relationships even work?

You Or is it one of those situations where if you told me you’d have to kill me?

James 😈

You There you go again--being all mysterious.

James Keep ‘em guessing and coming back for more.

You Has that strategy worked well for you in the past?

James Got you to text me again this morning, didn’t it?

You scoffed at what he had suggested. He was correct, but your stubborn streak would deny everything.

You The only reason I texted you this morning was to apologize for acting like a drunken fool last night.

And to squash the curiosity burning in your veins. But he didn’t need to know that.

James Oh.

The reply caused you to furrow your brow and your stomach to drop. You regretted not adding more levity to your last text. Of course, it wasn’t the only reason you were drawn to him.

You I appreciate that the selfie you sent wasn’t a dick pic. And you genuinely seemed to care about me getting home safely. Thank you.

You And maybe- a teeny, tiny bit- is honestly interested in getting to know you better.

You waited on pins and needles for his text, watching the pulsing ellipsis on your screen. Was he just humoring you?

James Hook. Line. Sinker.

Reading his response generated a flush from your jaw to your hairline. You growled in embarrassment. You fell for the oldest trick in the book. He baited you for a compassionate answer, and you delivered beautifully. Hook, line, and sinker, indeed.

You You’re an ass. I take everything back.

James Don’t be mad. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but you played into my trap wonderfully.

James If it makes you feel any better, all kidding aside, I want to get to know you better too.

James I fell asleep with a smile on my face last night and woke up with one this morning.

James Because of you, (Y/N).

A flutter broke apart in your chest. You hadn’t time-traveled back to high school; no, this was junior high territory.

You You’re lucky you’re so damn charming, James.

James Doll, you have no idea.

The subway ride into Manhattan usually gave you the chance to get a little reading in since it took nearly fifty minutes from Queens. Not today, though. You spent the entirety of the train ride texting back and forth with James. It was mundane stuff, but you were getting a grasp of who James was as a person.

You Favorite color?

James Black. You?

You Blue.

You Favorite ice cream flavor?

James Chocolate. Yours?

You Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.

James I didn’t realize we were getting specific.

You We weren’t, but that’s my favorite.

You Favorite movie?

James I like the classics- The Wizard of Oz, It’s A Wonderful Life, Frankenstein.

You I have too many to list, so don’t ask.

You Okay. Lightning round because I’m almost to my stop.

James Where are you going again?

You paused your reply for a brief second, wondering if you should divulge your destination. You’d known James less than twenty-four hours; although, it felt like weeks after this morning. Where was the harm in telling him where you were meeting your sister? There were nearly nine million people in this city. There was no way you’d ever bump into each other.

You A bakery in the Upper East Side called Two Little Red Hens. Ever been?

James Don’t think I have.

You Well, since you like chocolate, they have a fantastic cake called Brooklyn Blackout. Super rich but delicious.

James Sounds right up my alley.

You Cats or dogs?

James I’m gone too much, so cats.

The answer piqued your interest. Maybe he was an athlete. Wouldn’t it be practice and not training, though? Or he’s FBI or CIA.

You Socks on or off for sleeping?

James Off.

You Silver or gold?

James Silver.

You Morning, noon, or night?

James Night.

You How do you take your coffee?

James Room for sugar and creamer.

You Boxers or briefs?

James Boxer briefs.

You laughed out loud, looking around the subway car to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Per usual, they weren’t.

You Touché.

As soon as the train stopped, you gathered your purse close to your body and made for the exit. You followed the crowd of fellow passengers through the turnstile and ascended the stairs onto street level.

The morning sunlight caressed your skin like a warm blanket. The humidity wasn’t too bad, yet, but the threat of afternoon thunderstorms still hung in the air.

Even with the reasonably early hour, the sidewalk was stuffed with people, carrying to-go coffee cups or shopping bags. You fought for your little spot of real estate on the grimy concrete.

Stopping at a red traffic light, waiting to cross, you typed out another question for James.

You Pineapple on pizza--yay or nay?

The light changed as you finished, and the throng of pedestrians around you guided you across the street. You spotted Robyn outside the bakery as your phone dinged with a new text alert.

“Wow, I’m surprised you made it on time,” Robyn said as you hugged hello.

You looked at the clock on your phone. 8:58. “You and me both, sister.” Glancing back at your phone’s screen, you giggled.

James What kind of monster puts pineapple on their pizza??

“What’s so funny?” Robyn asked as you accompanied her through the bakery’s door.

With a grin on your face, you punched out a quick reply:

You Well, it was nice knowing you, James. It was a swell friendship while it lasted--a whole 11 ½ hours.

Robyn elbowed you softly in the ribs with a look on her face, seeking an explanation.

“Ow,” you grunted. “What?”

“You tell me. I half expected a zombie to walk through the doors today after your text last night. Not Suzie Sunshine.”

You both edged closer to the counter as the line in front of you dwindled.

James Say it ain’t so, doll! Pineapple on pizza? Really??

You let out a low chortle as you skimmed the text. You glimpsed up at Robyn as you shuffled forward in line again. “Believe me, I’m pretty hungover,” you replied, shoving your phone in your back pocket. “It’s a funny story. I’ll tell you everything when we sit.”

Robyn stared at you warily, still trying to figure out what had come over you. “Okay,” she conceded, stepping to the register to order.

With each of you supplied with an iced coffee and a peach ginger scone, you found an empty table by a window along 2nd Avenue and proceeded to tell Robyn about James.

When you stopped to catch your breath, remembering the whirlwind the last twelve hours had been, you peered at your sister for her reaction.

She stared at you like you’d grown a second head. She shook her head in disbelief. “(Y/N), what where you thinking?”

Your brow pinched in confusion. Was she actually scolding you? You crossed your arms over your chest. “I was thinking about how my big sister is always telling me to meet new people and how it’s time I thought about settling down.”

“Not like this it’s not,” she hissed. “This is how your body parts end up in someone’s freezer!”

You choked on the piece of scone you shoved in your mouth before she started ridiculing you. After coughing to clear your airway and taking a sip of your iced coffee, you leered at Robyn. “Oh, my god! Dramatic much? Have you been binge-watching Dateline again? Jesus Christ, Robyn, he’s harmless,” you countered.

“You think you’ll be so careful, but you’ll let one little detail slip, and he’ll find you,” Robyn said before taking a pull from her coffee.

“You mean, like, how I was meeting you at Two Little Red Hens at nine o’clock?”

Robyn’s mouth popped open in an O. “What the hell, (Y/N)?” she stage-whispered. “Are you trying to get yourself kidnapped and sold into sex trafficking?”

“Please,” you drew out in one long syllable. “He doesn’t know what I look like. How would he snatch me?”

“He could look you up on Facebook.”

“Without a last name?” You shook your head, no.

“What about a reverse search on your number?” Robyn asked, pushing the plate holding her scone away. “That’s a thing.”

“Perhaps, but it seems like a lot of effort for a mistake I made. It wasn’t like he was seeking me or anyone else out.”

Robyn huffed out a breath and folded her arms in exasperation. Always the protective big sister. You could tell you were breaking her down, though.

“C’ mon, Robbie. It’s all in innocent fun. I’m not saying I’m hoping he’ll turn out to be Mr. Right, but the banter is fun,” you remarked. “James is charming and witty and nice to talk to.”

Robyn shook her head once more, frowning. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

You reached across the table for her hand and squeezed gently. “Me too.” You smiled slyly, remembering last night’s dinner and Timmons gushing about The Avengers. “If not, I know how to get ahold of a couple of centenarians who know chivalry isn’t dead.”

Chapter One | Chapter Three

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[ahsokasleftbicep]

Name and Soul: Chapter 5

Here we go!! Let's see what Crosshair does ;)

@mqgriett @darkangel4121 @thelambandthewolffe @maulscrosshair @trash-dino-5000 @lightning-wolffe @killtherandomness @shadowwing12345 @sydnubabu @lafy-taffy

Crosshair x F! reader

Word Count: 2668

Warnings: SPOILERS for episode 5, Tarkin being a dick, Rampart being ughhhh, Conflicted Crosshair, internal conflict, slavery, Cid being an awesome character, injury, angst, a few curse words to get the mood across

“Y/N, what’s your position? Over.”

“Right behind you kid. Over” You chuckle when the girl jumps a little bit.

Echo clears his throat, “Omega, remember it’s not a toy.”

Omega just nods and keeps fiddling around with her new comm. Crosshair’s

“Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?” Echo continues, nodding his head to the back of the ship.

“Yeah of course.” You both walk to the back and you lean against a crate, patting Gonky on the head when he walks by. Echo stands rather awkwardly, looking up at you before back to the ground.

“I’m not sure how to start… I know that you miss Crosshair.” Echo looks up again before speaking. “And I know these past few weeks have been hard. But we will get him back together. As a group. You don’t have to do it alone.

“You heard Hunter and I the other day then.” You sigh and shift uncomfortably, “I know we can get him back, and that doing that is a little more… difficult with Omega around, especially now that someone is after her. But the longer we leave him there… who knows what Tarkin has already made him do.”

“I trust you Y/N, we all do.” Echo walks up and rests his hand on your shoulder. “But if you go through with this, there is no guarantee that we can get to you both in time if things go south.”

“I understand Echo.” You look up, “Thank you.”

The man nods before walking towards the cockpit. “Come on, I gotta let the guys know about that informant.”

--

Crosshair awoke with a gasp, sweat covering his head and chest. The lights in the barracks flickered erratically, but it was enough for him to see that everyone else was asleep. He sat up and the cool air pricked his bare skin. He looked around again before grabbing his rifle. He grabbed a top shirt and the necklace, clipping it around his neck before walking out into the hall, making his way to the firing range.

He kept thinking about his nightmare if that’s what you’d call it. It wasn’t scary or disturbing, just… weird. He was sitting on his bunk, back at the Marauder. He saw a bunch of his things, trinkets, and belongings. But he also saw things that weren’t his. He looked to his side table and saw small pieces of jewelry, smaller rifle parts, and a rag. He also saw a picture strip propped on the table. One of himself and… her? It was fairly small and had a small rip on the top. In one picture, he had his arm wrapped around you and you were smiling. Weird. The next was similar, but this time, he was smiling a little too. Then, you both looked like you were laughing. And the last one is what shocked Crosshair the most. You were kissing him. Like on the lips. What the-? He sees you sitting on his bed with the girl… Omega. You’re talking about something, but he can’t hear you too well. It’s muffled and the sound echoes.

“Y/n…?” His voice sounds too loud. Why is it so loud? “Y/n?”

You look up, directly at him, but then you turn back to the girl. Didn’t you see him?

Why didn’t you see him?

--

“Well, this is a charming establishment.” You cross your arms as you walk into the bar on Ord Mantell. “Reminds me of 79’s”

“Indeed” Tech walks beside you, grimacing at the conditions.

“What’s 79’s?” Omega looks at you and Tech curiously.

“It’s a clone bar on Coruscant, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s not there anymore though.” Tech pushes his goggles up to his nose.

You all walk into the main part of the bar. “So Echo, which one of them is Cid?” You glance at a couple of aliens arguing in the back, a Weequay and an Ithorian. None of them gave you the impression of being an informant.

“I couldn’t tell ya. I’ve only heard of him, never actually met him.” Echo looked back at you.

“That’s reassuring, Echo.”

Hunter walks towards a Trandoshan in the back, asking a few questions but getting nowhere.

“So unless you’re here to spend money, get lost.” The Trandoshan speaks, looking clearly annoyed. Hunter walks back and you all circle up.

“Great plan, Echo.” Wrecker groans

“I’m positive this is Cid’s. The Jedi came here during the war.”

You clear your throat before adding on, “Maybe he heard what happened to the Jedi and fled.”

While you all are talking, you don’t notice Omega walking up to the Trandoshan. You guys are struggling to come up with a plan.

“So, we came all this way for nothing?” There was a pause before your comm goes off.

“I found Cid.” You all turn towards Omega, who then points up to the Trandoshan at the bar.

You walk over to the Omega and nod at Cid politely, “Good job kid. You’re getting pretty good at this.”

--

“I could do my job if you did your research, Rampart.” Crosshair glances at the man, who simply glares back.

“How dare you? I’ve been-”

“Gentlemen! Enough of this nonsense.” Tarkin pinches the bridge of his nose. “What did you find?”

Rampart glares at the sniper for a moment before turning his attention back to Tarkin. “I have continued my research on Private L/N, sir. After she became a marksman, she joined the militia on her home planet. Over time, she was given the nickname the Ghost.”

“Why is this of use to us, Rampart?” Tarkin looks at the man, slowly losing his patience.

“Many other rebel militias hired her, therefore she is well known on other planets through her nickname. I was looking through the general gossip, when I found a report from Ord Mantell, saying that the Ghost had arrived early yesterday morning. Now it could be a mistake, but this is the closest thing to a lead that has been found.”

Crosshair looks down at the floor, thinking. What is he up to? He wants something more with this lady than what Tarkin has said.

“Very well. Because of the uncertainty that this is truly Private L/N, CT-9904, you will go to Ord Mantell alone and see if it is true. If you do find her, restrain and bring her back. If not, return to Kamino as soon as possible… and if she gives you trouble, dispose of her.”

Dispose of? No! Don’t kill her! Don’t listen to him! Would you just shut up?

“Of course, sir. I’ll leave right away.” Crosshair throws his toothpick to the ground and walks into the hall. I can go to Ord Mantell. If I see her, I could always lie.

--

“Wrecker, you doing okay?” You rest your hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s nothing. I’m alright.” The man rubs his head again.

“According to Cid’s intel, the Zygerrian slave traders are hiding in the ruins of Old Ord Mantell city.” Tech walks into the cockpit along with Echo and Omega

“What’s a slave trader?” Omega spins around in her seat.

“Someone who buys and sells people for credits.”

“People can be sold?” Omega looks up in confusion.

“They don’t have a choice. They’re captives treated like property.” Echo crosses his arms glaring at the ground.

“That… doesn’t seem right.”

“It’s not. But wealthy Zygerrians don’t care.” You kneel in front of her. “Before the war, their empire was very powerful and not a lot of people had enough to fight against them. I was called by a local militia in Zygerria after I graduated from the Academy, we went to Zygerria to free a village of missing twi-leks. Some of my team got caught…” You look at the boys. “They were vicious in their punishment of the militia members, especially the Queen.” You suppress a shiver from your spine at the memory.

“We are going to stop this from happening to that kid.” Echo speaks up and squeezes your shoulder.

“Don’t worry Y/N. We’ll save Muchi, no matter what!” Omega smiles.

--

This could be going better. You try to adjust your hands in the binders, but it just tightens on your wrists.

You all had gotten captured, now in the remnants of the city square tied up with other people. Wrecker tries to break the binders but gets shocked.

“You do that one more time and you’ll be…” Echo glares at the man

The soldier shocks him and you run to his side, “Save your energy, Echo. We’ll need it.” You look around before catching on to a large building, seeing a higher-ranking Zygerrian at the top.

“We need to signal Omega before their scouts find her.” Hunter says, looking at all of us.

You keep looking around, and you see… Omega walking towards a fallen column.

“We won’t need a comm to signal her,” Tech speaks up and you point Hunter in her direction.

Before anything can happen, the door of the large building opens. The higher Zygerrian walks out, looking over you all with interest. He stops on you before speaking.

“Look at what we have here,” He chuckles, “Five new slaves to add to my collection.” He approaches you and grabs your face. He smirks and leans closer. “You will be a very nice plaything.”

You narrow your eyes before spitting in his face. “Go fuck yourself.” The man growls and slaps you.

“Y/N!” Hunter calls out and tries to reach you, but a blaster is pointed in his face.”

“We can do with one less slave and loyalty can be taught.” The man grabs you by your hair, “Through violence if necessary.”

You smirk at him for a moment. “I’d love to see you try, prick.”

“Let me go!” You all turn your head towards a guard, who’s holding Omega.

“I found her sneaking around the cage.”

The girl struggles, “I wasn’t sneaking. I was unlocking.”

The cage bursts open despite the guard's best efforts, revealing a young rancor. Great.

“Let’s get out of here.” Hunter helps you free yourself and you run towards your gear.

As you all run along with the other former slaves, Tech is conversing with them.

One of them points to the rancor, “Muchi! Muchi!”

“Muchi?” You look at the rancor and your eyes widen. “The rancor is Muchi?!”

Hunter sighs, “We have to go after Muchi, if we don’t, we don’t get intel from Cid. Y/N, you’re with me.”

“Got it, let’s go.”

Tech and Wrecker separate from you two to go after Muchi, while you and Hunter go after the leader.

“You’re going to pay for this, skugs!” The man moved his whip, the cracking echoing through the air.

The man raises his whip and aims at Hunter.

“Hunter! Watch out!” The whip catches on Hunter’s arm, groaning in pain from the electricity.

You run and tackle the leader to the ground. He gets up and gets his whip around your neck, activating the electric pulse. You scream out and use the slack of the whip to drag yourself closer. “Like I said, loyalty through violence.” The man sneers at you and rips your helmet off your head.

Your voice comes out hoarse and scratchy, “You should’ve kept an eye behind you.”

“Huh?”

Hunter headbutts and kicks the man back.

“Y/N, are you alright?” He unwraps the whip from your neck and looks over the mark left behind.

You cough a little bit and nod. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You place your helmet on. “Let’s go get Muchi and get the hell out of here.”

The sergeant chuckles, “I couldn’t agree more.”

--

You wince when Cid pokes your neck with a stim. “Ow! Are you trying to hurt me more?”

“Oh calm down, you're fine. I thought the Ghost herself could handle more than a needle.”

“The Ghost? Who’s that?” Omega looks up at you and Cid. The boys look at you, curious.

You sigh and Cid keeps fixing up your injury.

“After the academy and over time, working with militias and going on solo assassin missions, people started calling me the Ghost. I haven’t heard anyone call me that in a while. And I didn’t expect that my name would make it all the way out here… How’d you know?”

“Your demeanor, how you react, and a bit of lucky guessing.” Cid finishes bandaging up your neck.

“Thanks.” You hop off the bar and move your head gingerly. “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

“Can I come?” Omega hops up to you.

“Kid, I actually need some help with something.” Cid nods at you.

“Oh! Okay! Bye Y/N! Be careful!”

“Will do, Omega!”

You walk to the door before Hunter stops you. “Y/N, you sure you’ll be fine on your own?”

“I’ll be okay, I have my comm if I run into any trouble. How’s your arm?” You gesture towards it.

“It’s okay, I’ll live.”

You chuckle, “That’s good, but maybe have Cid look at it.”

“Noted.”

You wave before you walk out into the alleys of the city.

--

Crosshair weaved behind alleys. He was bare of his typical armor, now donning dark civvie clothes. He has a cloth covering his face, only showing his eyes. His rifle is nowhere to be found, only having a knife strapped to his thigh. His necklace feels cold against his skin, but the rest of his body is on fire. Why am I nervous? She’s just another soldier.

There!

He sees you out in the streets, walking by the market stands that are scattered through the streets. You don’t look armed, so that makes things easier. He keeps his distance, only moving closer as you move towards the denser part of the marketplace. Just grab her and get the job done. No, just ask questions. Don’t show your face.

--

Something felt off for the last hour of walking around the markets and vendors. Someone was following you, but they weren’t necessarily dangerous. You could be completely wrong though, you hadn’t actually seen your stalker yet.

I should’ve brought my knife, dammit.

You weave through people for a few blocks and stop in the middle of the street. Behind you. You turn and see him.

He’s paused in the street as well, about 30 feet away. He’s in dark clothing, a cloth covering most of his face. Except for his eyes. His eyes. Crosshair.

His eyes are hardened, but they’re his. You make out the faint black lines of a tattoo around his right eye. The man straightens his gaze onto you, then to your bandage, and finally to your necklace. He reaches under his shirt collar and pulls out a silver chain.

You look back up at him and grab your necklace. A person interrupts your line of sight and when you focus again, he’s gone.

--

Crosshair runs through alleys back to his ship. He’s breathing hard and mumbling to himself.

“She’s okay, she’s okay.” It comes out rushed and panting. He runs up the ramp of his ship, tearing off his mask and getting the ship running. As soon as the ship is in space, he sits in the pilot's seat and grabs his head. His ears are ringing and it feels like his head is going to explode. What the hell was that? Why didn’t I ask her? I ran, why the fuck did I run? She’s okay. She recognized me. Y/N’s safe. It hurts. Why does it hurt so much? Dammit, STOP!

“CT-9904. What did you find on Ord Mantell?” Tarkin’s hologram flickered slightly.

“I… wasn’t able to find any sign of Private L/N. It looks to be local gossip and conspiracy.”

The Admiral nods, “Well that is unfortunate. I assume you are returning immediately.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be back on Kamino shortly.”

“Very well. Good work, CT-9904.” The hologram shut off.

Crosshair sighed in relief, slumping into his seat. I’m sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry.

[yanderecandystore]

Can we get some content for how the Android darling and Ms. Bright would meet?

In this [🍰🍑🤖] we get a glimpse of what their relationship is like and a lil mention of how things have worked out- But let's see how it played out from the a.is perspective.

Hi boo, I hope you're doing great, I'm very sorry for the long ass waiting- Sadly I may warn y'all that I have gone through many stages while writing this: h 0 r ny, corny, and angsty. This is actually pretty heavy, as I tried pulling some of the loose threads that I left all over Ingrid's posts (I still need to give her an bio ;-; I'm sorry y'all-)

So this is all over the place, since this is a fic I've been writing for a long time.

Also I know jackshit about robotics, and I think this fic shows how much I don't know anything XD

TW: Family issues related to: LGBTQ identity // very angsty // Ingrid is very rude, but she also struggles a lot during this- // socially distant // socially awkward // being misinterpreted/having a hard time socializing //

Tags: angy sad lady // ownership dynamic // this is basically the reader reminiscing about the past (continuing it from where Happy Lies left off) // the reader is low-key a simp at times- // master x servant dynamic, possessive behavior and a lot of yelling // just angsty really, I'm so sorry //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Happy birthday, mistress [Yandere!CEO OC x A.I!Reader - Short Fanfiction]

3,763 words

Whenever you remember your first day of activation, or more accurately your first day of actually being able to be activated for more than five seconds (you can't remember it fully, but you're aware that because of your complex design, you had passed through a lot of prototype phases before you could properly function-), you almost feel an odd sense of nostalgia, maybe due to the fact it was indeed the most important day of your existence as an android.

It was Ms.Bright's nineteenth birthday, when she would be handed the corporation that has been passed down by generations. And not only would she inherit the company, but also a beautifully designed a.i assistant made to help Ms.Bright's every need. You were made to be an easy communication center from Ms.Bright to the employees, as Ms.Bright's had a hard time communicating with people and expressing herself.

At first, she didn't seem to enjoy the idea very much- It was clear that she considered you to be quite annoying and useless. And- Well- It did hurt at first, after all, you were built to help her and be her friend no matter what.

So hearing her be mean towards you was… Very tough at first. Your first day as her assistant wasn't easy, you ended up getting in her way most of the time- And since she also didn't know exactly what she was doing, she got overwhelmed by so many things going down in one single day.

Ingrid has always dreamed of being in power of the company- Actually, now that you know her a little more- You can positively say she was probably just stressed at having to deal with so many responsibilities so suddenly, even if it has been her lifelong wish to inherit the company.

And even if it seems impossible at times, she would still come back strong and find a way to deal with it. That's something you really admire about her.

Your first week on the job was basically just trying to get accustomed and trying to learn everything you needed to do- While also trying to understand Ms.Bright as best as you could. Now… You weren't built to say this- And- And of course you don't think like this anymore, but…. You used to think she was really mean.

Frightening, even.

Now that you're all alone waiting for her to get back from work, you can't help but feel like replaying those moments inside your head.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000050: "My second day at work"...}"

" Oh, what are you doing here?"

" Morning Ms.Bright! I-I was rechecking the files from yesterday and I was trying my best to reorganize them, a-after the incident-"

" The "incident" that you caused yesterday?"

" Well, yes, of course! I wanted to fix things up before you came back, I'm really sorry for being so reckless, I promise I won't do it again, I was just-"

"It 's fine. You don't need to worry about it."

" But… But I thought-"

" The files you had messed with weren't really all that important, and besides I'm sure there are copies all around the place. Sigh, who am I kidding- In reality, I should be the one apologizing for my behavior yesterday."

"...."

" I recognize that I shouldn't have treated you the way that I did, in a sense it's my fault you lost those files in the first place."

" … Well, it's nothing really mistress, I'm the one who should-"

" No, don't even finish it. You shouldn't have to apologize and shouldn't have spent the night wasting your battery on this-"

"...."

".... You know what, do whatever- I sometimes forget that you are… Nevermind, come back to my office as soon as you can."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.000.050… }"

You never knew what she was going to say, but you remember not being able to ask her that- As you were afraid of her potentially getting mad at you for asking too many questions. She always seemed so ruthless at times.

You remember the time you went to a family event with her, a family party, where an incident happened and she was absolutely livid. Your relationship with her wasn't so pretty at the time, you don't know why but- Your mistress didn't seem to trust you as much as you wish she did at the time.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000.001.588: "First party ever- And it was very unpleasant" ...}"

" What's the matter with you?! Why can't you follow simple instructions- I told you to stay here and not mess around."

" I'm. So. Sorry. Mistress-"

" Even your vocal module is broken- Who told you to enter that pool in the first place?? You can't tell me you did something so stupid all on your own."

" I. Slipped.-"

" Am I a joke to you? I've said tell me who gave you the order to jump in the goddamn pool while everyone else was inside- Don't you dare start lying to me."

" … One of the. Party guests. Lost something. Inside the water. I tried helping them. But I started to. Malfunction."

" … Sigh, okay. Continue."

" It wasn't. Their fault. I did it. On my own. I was just- Trying. To help."

" By throwing yourself inside a pool when you're well aware of the damage the water can cause to your inner systems?!"

" I'm sorry!"

" You could have- No, you SHOULD have called someone else to help you, I can't believe it- You could have drowned in there and I wouldn't even be aware of that since I was inside the house, [Y/n]!"

" …. But Ms.Bright. I can't drown-"

" Yeah, yeah- I know you-... I know you can't drown."

" … Listen, you could have still gotten yourself hurt okay? You could have permanently damaged your systems, and if I wasn't made aware of what happened, I wouldn't have been able to take you out of the water in time, okay?"

"... Sigh, I just realized how much I have been yelling, everyone is probably scared now that I've made such a scandal. This… Isn't really a new thing to me, I'm accustomed to ruining parties like this. I'll have to apologise later to everyone. [Y/n], please just- When I ask you to stay still, please listen to me. I was worried about you."

"...."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.001.588 ...}"

You can't deny it- Whenever she was truly irritated she could make any person next to her feel threatened, though the more you look at your recordings, you feel like she doesn't really want to be feared like this. Respected? Absolutely. Feared? Not ideal, but she takes it anyway.

You have a couple of different recordings here and there, your memories are separated into sections. You have recordings of events in several formats: pictures, videos, texts and audio recordings. Though the one you use the most is audio recordings, since videos take a very big space inside your mind, and pictures need context, otherwise they wouldn't be considered memories, right?

You can't have many memories at a time because most of your mind is supposed to be used to store the company's files, so you do have a couple of memories that you have deleted to make space for the Bright Vision's more secret/personal documents. Since Ingrid took you home yesterday, and said you won't be going to work for the company anymore, then maybe you can find somewhere else to store those files so you can make space for new memories with Ms.Bright.

First, you'll need to recheck some of your own memories to see if they're worth holding onto. There is probably a lot of junk in there that you won't be needing anymore, which can be a bit tedious and take some time, but you clearly have enough time on your hands to do so, considering how she is not home and- Well, you're pretty bored, you already done everything that she asked you to do.

Honestly, she gave such small tasks today, she probably didn't plan to change your work environment so suddenly.

After about an hour of research through your data you have realized that even if you have way too many files, it's kinda hard to delete them. At first you didn't mind the idea of deleting certain stuff, but now it feels a bit sad to erase parts of your memory, you just had so many good times and- And even the bad times are worth remembering, right?

It has been an hour of you just standing there, trying your best to not delete anything important while also revising each recording you have. Most files are a bit out of order, numerically speaking, but you don't mind that too much cause- Well, you can always reorganize them later.

… You never actually do that, but you like to think that one day you will, though.

After so many recordings of conversations, you found one who didn't seem to really belong in your head. You see, you always title every single thing inside your personal archives so that it doesn't get mixed with other files- All of your memories have a specific title so that you can have an idea of which is which.

The thing is- You don't remember this file, the title seems off, and it seems like it's incomplete. Oddly broken. Still, you decided to take a listen and try to remember what happened in this event.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000.068.xxx: "I yell too much" ...}"

"...."

"...."

"...."

This is a very silent audio, there seems to be some background noise happening, but you can't make out what's happening. This audio sounds distorted, edited maybe. Someone tried messing with your memories but they weren't able to completely erase this file.

Maybe they were inexperienced at the time.

"...."

"...."

"...."

You think you heard something, it sounded closer to you- It sounded like someone possibly sitting down next to you. You don't know who it is, or what it is

"...."

".... I'm such a mess. Why am I doing this? Why does this feels so-"

"...."

It seems like someone is speaking, but you're not speaking back. Even in this heavily edited audio, you can still make out what sounds to be a feminine voice.

".... I'm sorry for, well, using you this way. It feels- So, so weird."

"...."

".... I just want… No, I need to vent to you for a while, even if you won't remember what I'm going to say."

This audio gives you an odd sensation. You think you're starting to recognize who this is- But then again, who else could it be, if not Ms.Bright herself?

" I never did this before, with something so- Human like- With something so human looking. I used to record my thoughts on my phone but I thought I would never need to vent with an object before- But here I am! Making a fool of myself…"

"...."

The speaker, who you assume to be Ingrid, seems to be having a lot of trouble speaking, her voice is cracking and her breathing seems uneven. She sounds out of breath, and she takes a lot of pauses to be able to speak her mind.

"...."

".... I have…. Thought about opening myself in this way because- Because I have no one else to listen to it, and I guess I can only blame myself for it. I know I'm difficult, I know I'm rude and I know I come across as a tyrant to everyone else- I- I really don't know what 's wrong with me, okay?!"

" Years, and years, and years of training, of studying, of planning to become the very next owner of this corporation as it's already not only a job but also a very painful family tradition that I felt proud of! That I gave everything that I could to be part of! I remember wanting this so bad, I remember how I used to daydream about this stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid tradition when I was a little kid who just wanted to do more, to be more!"

".… I almost lost all of this. 19 years of my life that were threatened to be thrown in the trash just because I- Because I'm not his son??! Because I- I'm not his only "son" anymore??.... Who said I ever was- Who said I ever was his son…?"

".... I- I know all about the stupid, awful and extremely unnecessary tradition of passing the leadership from father to son, and to this very day- inside the same office all of my predecessors had went through- I still think that tradition is garbage. I always thought I wouldn't make it here, I always thought something would stop me from being the next face of Bright Vision."

".... I can't tell- If I always knew about this- I can't even imagine how I knew this considering the dumb kid that I was, but…"

".... I'm his daughter. I'm Mr.Bright's only daughter, and the only possible heir to this twisted company."

" The people outside think our only focus it's on robotics and technology of all kinds. I wish I could go back to thinking that too, it would have been so much simpler that way."

" After a very long fight about my rights as the heir to this- Company. My father thought it would be wise to move to the countryside. Far away from all of this. And to be fair, I was- So, so mad at him that I thought that him moving away from here and letting me be would be better, but every now and then I- I miss him. I miss him so much…."

"He sent me a birthday present today. After three years of absolute silence he sends me flowers and- And a gift card containing his number… And I- Called him despite everything, and even so to this day he can't even say my name- IT'S BEEN THREE YEARS AFTER HE LEFT ME ALL ALONE WITH THIS CURSED BUSINESS AND HE STILL CAN'T FUCKING. SAY. MY. NAME."

You felt scared at the sudden yelling, even if her voice was progressively getting more aggressive and louder, you still got caught up by the sudden yelling.

".... I'm- A mess- I know that now."

You can't understand what's going on, but it sounds like she started laughing… Or maybe crying? Probably both.

".... I'm just terrible at this. I always was, weren't I? I'm just terrible at these types of interactions- Maybe all of them! I just don't understand how to- How to do it?? I don't know anymore…."

".... That's why I have you, in the first place, isn't it?"

" I had such an awful time expressing myself that they gave me an overpriced doll to do it for me. When I first heard about this three years ago, I- I've felt so fucking pitiful."

" Can you imagine it? The CEO of such a big corporation is so difficult to deal with that she needs an overly glorified doll that can translate her words to the other employees! An a.i created just to help me, an absolute idiot!"

".... I've felt so angry at them- I felt so angry at him for having to build a robot just to be a comfort pet to the stressful work that I would have to do for the rest of my position as owner of Bright Vision Corp, and I was mad at you! You pissed me off to no end, and I- I just couldn't help but be frustrated at you, not for being in my way, but for being an reminder that I'm awful at this-"

"...."

Her sobs stopped her from continuing that sentence.

".... I've treated you so unfairly because of this. I- I made sure that whenever you looked at me you would feel terrified of me because that's the only way I thought I could be respected, that's the only way I thought you would listen to me, and yet you never did…. You weren't built to follow my every order perfectly, you were made to be literally my only friend, after 22 years, here you are- The only person that can get me isn't even an actual person-"

"..... And I forget this…! I forget this every time I look at your eyes, I forget how robotic you are whenever I see you helping others not because you were told to, but just because you thought you could."

"...."

".... I always forget that you're supposed to be just another robot… He really did think about everything when designing you."

".... I always catch myself being awful towards you, being- Being excessively rude, not because of my way of talking but because of my own petty feelings towards you as my assistant… As my friend, as my android, as my-"

"...."

"..... I'm so sorry for being like this, you don't deserve to have someone who is constantly being mean towards you be considered your boss- Your boss, your friend- ...Sigh, even your owner…"

" I'm sorry [Y/n], I'm really, really sorry- But it doesn't matter how many times I say that- I don't know if I can ever make it up to you. Words won't heal any wounds, they never did."

"...."

".... But maybe actions will."

"...."

" I'll stop being so harsh on you, you really don't deserve this- I was feeling weird about using your recording system to vent like this, but now that I think about it I have been using you as a venting mechanism since the day we met……. I'm- I'm so goddamn awful."

"...."

"...."

" "How can someone so in love be so cruel?".... Would you be able to answer me if you were conscious?.... I don't think you would, no one has been able to tell me the right answer yet."

".... I hope I can be better- I will be better."

"...."

" I just need to remember how to delete this file before you wake up- I hope I can do that. End recording."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.068.xxx …}

………….

It took you about an hour or so to be able to process what you have just listened to. And even then, you weren't able to fully comprehend what happened.

Ms.Bright- No, Ingrid- Ingrid has used your recording system while you were out, she probably tried deleting the file but because she was inexperienced with your kind of technology, she decided to just edit it and try to make it unlistenable.

It was- Barely audible but you still got to understand some of it.

Did she- Did she forget to completely erase it? Did she forget entirely??? You're not sure.

You don't know why but a sudden wave of- Something- Something feels so odd about this-

You don't know how to respond really. You don't feel mad about her ranting to you, you don't even feel bad about her ranting to you while you weren't aware- You feel bad, but not because of her but because of the emotional turmoil she has been hiding from you.

Should you do something? Should you say something?? How do you even- You don't know how respond to this-

You're programmed to comfort her, yet- This file is already old, and she didn't want you to remember this so maybe it won't be the best idea to bring it up, but what can you do??!

Maybe you just need to rethink this through, maybe you should listen to audio again, and try to figure out what's the best way to help her out when she comes back.

You're honestly baffled at the idea that someone like her had so much to confess to- You probably shouldn't have seen her as an unstoppable goddess in the first place, but then again- Even after hearing her open herself, even after listening to her insecurities- Your opinion of her hasn't changed.

She was holding this for so long, no wonder she always seems on edge.

She 's only human. Yet you never really saw her as just that.

She was always so much larger than you, so much stronger than what your fabricated body was, and she always sounded so much smarter and- And she was just always so… Terrifyingly beautiful to you.

Ingrid Bright was always considered a very good looking individual, but no one ever considered her to be much else because of her way of speaking to others (which may sound rude and occasionally condescending, causing others to avoid her as much as they could), but you always thought she was so much more than that-

It's hard to even explain it really, ever since you met you have started to understand the concept of how beauty and fear can mix together, you find her to be so beautiful, yet her demeanor and stature makes you feel afraid of her for some reason- And even worse than that, the fear she may unconsciously bring you makes her seem more beautiful in your eyes.

You shouldn't think of her as scary or frightening, she is your boss, your master and your owner, there is no reason for why you should feel this way towards her- But then again, there is no reason for you to even feel in the first place, you were just built to do so.

You don't think she means harm to anyone, after getting to know her you realize why her behavior can be misinterpreted as mean and scary- Ms.Bright always had a hard time socializing with others, even her family had a hard time understanding her, so maybe that's why she grew to have such a tough exterior.

As someone that was built to make the communication between CEO and employees easier, you've had to learn to understand her to be able to help others understand her as well, and vice versa. It wasn't easy, and you wouldn't say that you know her completely well- But you feel proud of the work you have done so far, you're her loyal companion but more importantly a friend.

Funny how much you learned not only about her, the employees, or even the business of the company- But also about humans in general in these five years of working for her, it makes you feel more whole when you remember how much you have achieved.

You hope you can somehow help her right now, and to help her from here on out. You decide to wait for her and possibly talk about how she feels and how she deals with said feelings. Hopefully all ends well.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Sorry for the loose ending! I was feeling very tired ;-; but if anyone wants it I could totally make a second chapter with a better ending.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[soldrawss]

Alright, so it's pretty clear which Bab is who, But how oh how did he Obtain these four boys in your Human Rottmnt au?

~SO! Bear with me, there’s a LOT of info here and it kinda turned into a fic half way down so yeah~

In my au, Yoshi is still the famous movie and action star, Lou Jitsu! (In his private life, he goes by Yoshi Hamato, but in the public eye he is Lou Jitsu. Sorta like a Hannah Montana situation) Anyway, while he’s a big-time hotshot, he starts dating fellow hotshot movie star Kuroko Gumo (Big Mama)(I gave her a Japanese name basically meaning spider don’t @ me) They date for a long time and for a while are the celebrity couple of the century... that is, until Yoshi asks Big Mama to marry him. She turns him down in a very public and horrible way (Basically saying that what they had was just a fun fling and also for clout) and leaves Yoshi absolutely wrecked. He becomes incredibly depressed and spirals into unhealthy habits and kinda goes off the deep end. (Showing up to interviews and public events wasted. Sleeping around with lots of other famous celebrities and models. Causing a PUBLIC SCENE literally every time he goes out. It wasn’t a good time for Yoshi OR Lou at ALL. This went on for about 4-5 years on and off.)

Until his ‘manager’ finally hired him a PR agent to put him into shape. (Yoshi had PR agents in the past. But all of them quit after a while of not being able to DEAL with Yoshi’s tantrums) And boy, did this PR agent NOT fuck around. Barry Draxum, though he prefers just Draxum, single-handedly saved Yoshi’s carrier and Lou Jitsu’s image practically overnight. And even though his methods for getting Yoshi to shower before a photoshoot or ‘eat a fucking vegetable Hamato or so help me GOD I will shave your head completely bald and then you’ll have to wear a wig for the rest of filming, do not TEMPT me’ are a little unorthodox, he gets the job done. And even though the two butt heads and bicker on the daily, they end up being a pretty good team, and slowly but surely, Yoshi starts to heal and get better and get his life/career back on track.

That is, until the consequences of his actions came a-knocking. 

It was Draxum who found out first, through a late-night phone call in Yoshi’s living room while the two were discussing a film shoot for later on that week. 

Yoshi had really only seen two sides of Draxum’s emotional range up until that point, and Yoshi was pretty sure he didn’t have any other settings besides passively annoyed and downright fed up, but the look on Draxum’s face, going pale with confusion and concern had Yoshi waiting at the edge of the couch in acute apprehension. The blood in his veins turning to ice under his skin.

It was about a woman named Nia Okoro. A vibrant and outgoing woman, with freckles like constellations dusted on her dark skin and dimples so deep that Yoshi loved to make her laugh just so he could see how deep they’d go. He had had previous relations with her, often seeking her out when he was at his loneliest and lowest points only because she had a personality that was loud and warm, and that could win smiles out of him as easy as breathing. 

But he hadn’t seen her in almost a year. Right before Draxum came around and knocked some sense into him, Yoshi even said so when Draxum asked, worry a knotted, tangled mess in his stomach when he asks why. What’s wrong? Did something happen?

A car accident, Draxum explains slowly like he’s approaching a feral animal and he doesn’t know if it will fight or flee if he approaches with any more information. A semi collided with the driver's side of her car. She didn’t make it. Died on route to the hospital.

Yoshi, Draxum says in a low voice, not giving Yoshi a second to wrap his head around the grief pumping back into his system like an all too familiar and painful drug when he adds, she left behind two sons. And apparently, before she died, she claimed they were both yours.

Yoshi was on the next flight out to Chicago that night, Draxum trailing behind after him trying to get Yoshi to see reason, Hamato. We don’t really know if they’re yours, and even if they were, which is highly unlikely, what are you going to do? You can’t raise children right now, your career is still in a fragile state. YOU’RE still in a fragile state.

But Yoshi wasn’t listening as he takes his window seat, Draxum perfectly harrumphing defeatedly in the seat beside him, and Yoshi spends the next two and a half hours looking out into the cloudless night, not listening to anything but the sound of his own racing heart trying to burst out between his ribcage.

When they get to the hospital, it’s 2:30 in the morning and Draxum has to practically pull Yoshi from slamming his fists down on the reception desk. Draxum had told him it was a longshot that the children would even still be here at this hour, if they even existed at all and weren’t just some wild goose chase of a prank someone was pulling on them, but Yoshi still had to know. Had to make sure.

When Draxum finally manages to explain their situation to the woman at the front desk, it's with a sad but knowing smile when she nods, knowing exactly the children they were looking for, and leads them through the hospital for what feels like endless years to Yoshi till they reach a closed examination room.

Yoshi is greeted by two pairs of almond-shaped brown eyes, one pair wide and bright and the other sleepy and heavy-lidded, and it takes all his strength not to crumble to the hospital floor right then and there.

A little boy was sitting on a large hospital bed, covered in scratches and bruises and head half wrapped in colorful red gauze with yellow stars on it, looks up at Yoshi with watery alert eyes. He clutches at the drowsy infant half asleep in the circle of his arms almost protectively, and it takes another bow of strength from Yoshi to remain calm when the boy bites out a quiet, you can’t take him either. 

Take who away, Yoshi asks back in a voice almost as quiet at the boy’s, and the little boy tightens his hold around the baby. Eyes bright like daggers and mouth thin with a determination that could move mountains, like he wasn’t a child and the ugly road rash and bruising skin under her clothes didn’t exist, when he glares at Yoshi.

Mikey! They took mama away, but you can’t take Mikey too! He’s my baby brother. Mama said I have to protect him, so you can’t take him! You can’t! Please!

It took several weeks and an ocean load of paperwork on Yoshi’s and Draxum’s part, but sure enough, Raphael and Michelangelo Okoro were indeed Yoshi’s sons, and having no other relatives they could go to, were finally allowed to be adopted and come home with the movie star.

Yoshi was whole worlds out of depths with parenthood, having absolutely no experience with children in general prior to his son’s moving in with him, and it showed with every backward diaper and screaming tantrum fit and sleepless night. And Yoshi asked himself about a million and a half times a day if he had gotten over his head. Taken on too much, more than he could handle. If he was cut out to be a dad, let alone a dad they needed, at all.

But Mikey had a giggle that filled up every corner of the room with something warm and delighted, and Raph’s tough and hesitant exterior against Yoshi at first melted into something akin to fierce and toothed love for his baby brother. So he was patient with Yoshi, and taught him all the best tricks to get Mikey to hold still long enough to change his clothes or wash behind his ears with a smile and fondness that downright glowed. And when he finally called out a hey pops to Yoshi, wearing a broad and comfortable confidence and joy like a badge on his chest, Yoshi finally gave in to his emotions and sleep deprivation and cried right there with both of his boys in his arms. 

And he really was awful at being a dad, but dangit if he wasn’t going to try his best anyway because it was so worth it just to have those two pairs of smiling eyes turn his way.

But the experience with Raph and Mikey opened up a pandora's box inside Yoshi’s heart.

Because Raph was four years old. That was four years of Yoshi not knowing he had a son, let alone two... Was it possible that there was more he didn’t know about?

And with the, albeit begrudging, help from Draxum, (Draxum, who had collected the embarrassingly long list of lovers and ex’s from Yoshi and began reaching out to them in inquiry about children and possible visitation rights and the such. Because Yoshi was sure that if he had more children, their situations wouldn’t be like Raph’s and Mikey’s where Yoshi could just take full custody of them. Especially when none of the mothers had ever reached out in the first place) he found that answer out.

It was yes, and the exact number was two more.

Two more sons. One in Seattle and one in San Antonio.

Donatello Martelli was relatively easy to find. His mother, Bria, as beautiful as she was vain and obsessed with her image, didn’t hesitate to point Draxum and Yoshi in the direction of the nearest foster home. Because Bria was not the motherly type, and she never had the patience or tolerance or room in her heart to fit parenthood into her world of glamour and glitz the way Yoshi did. So with what little kindness she had to her name, she put up her son for adoption and wiped her hands clean of what was left of Yoshi’s and her’s short-lived romance.

Donatello, as Yoshi had come to discover, was a handful of a child, but in all the ways that made Yoshi’s heart burst with affection and pride.

He was smarter and craftier than anyone would ever give a 3-year-old credit for, and his short temper and passive boredom towards the world around him was only because he lacked the stimulus and opportunity to shine as brightly as he could. He was in his 8th foster home in that year alone when Draxum had located him; being swapped around from home to home because no one knew how to handle the child's sharp wit and even sharper tongue, and the list of appliances and machines he had ‘destroyed’ had labeled him as a trouble maker and problem child.  

It was only until Yoshi had made the journey to Seattle himself and met the keen-eyed and brazen child that Yoshi discovered just how soft-hearted Donatello truly was. 

He was just curious. That’s all he ever was. Curious and hungry for knowledge and wanting to use that knowledge for good and kind and wonderfully brilliant things.

I wanted to know how the toaster works, Donatello’s admits quietly, more to himself than to Yoshi but Yoshi listens anyway. Mrs. Brown’s burns the toast and Mr. Brown doesn’t like it. I just wanted to see if I could make it better.

Donnie’s adoption was almost too easy, no one willing to put up any fight against Yoshi steadfast resolution, and the bespectacled brown-eyed child thrived in Yoshi’s endless supply of toasters he could take apart and reassemble too his heart's content, and Raph’s and Mikey’s constant adoration and fondness for their newest brother.

It took almost 2 months after Donnie’s adoption for Draxum to even learn about a fourth child, let alone find him.

Maria Guerrero was the only woman they couldn’t reach out to, seemingly dropping off the face of the earth like she had never existed in it to begin with and was just a well-spun fever dream of Yoshi’s past. Draxum had almost exhausted every string he had left to even prove the woman existed, let alone where she was, and it was only because of Yoshi’s begging and pleading and she’s out there somewhere, Barry. Please. I don’t want to give up without knowing for sure, that Draxum kept up the search longer than the 2-month mark. 

And then he had found something. A tiny, sliver of a half baked chance at something and Yoshi clung to it like a lifeline.

I don’t know if it’s anything at all. Maria isn’t even mentioned by name it’s just... with the description you gave and the time frame set... a couple of years ago, there was this child with the last name Guerrero in San Antonio who was left at the hospital just a few hours after he was born. The mother disappeared without a trace and with no explanation, but she matches the description of Maria-

What’s the child’s name, Yoshi finds himself interrupting, a tugging feeling at the bottom of his stomach making him feel equal parts sick and hungry with hope and morbid curiosity.

Leonardo. Leonardo Guerrero. He’d be about 3 now.

Yoshi knew. He just knew. As soon as he stepped out of his car and onto the dusty laneway of the shabby and overpacked halfway home in Texas and walked up to the metal chain-linked fence separating himself from the front yard of children of varying ages and races, he knew. He didn’t even need the owner and self-designated father of the home to point the child out to Yoshi.

Leonardo was a scrawny and scrappy child. The patched-up sweater 3 times his size dropping over limbs covered in bandaids and vitiligo patches alike. His hair was a curly mess, long and tangled and held out of his face by different types of hair clips and scrunchies. He was playing by himself off in the farthest corner of the yard, head down and tracing the ground with a stick, and it wasn’t until the other man called out a thickly accented, GUERRERO, that the boy looked up.

Brown eyes. Brown eyes like Raph’s and Donnie’s and Mikey’s. Brown eyes like Yoshi’s. Round and rich and shining like a spotlight and something clicked inside of Yoshi’s chest. Like the final piece of a long-overdue jigsaw puzzle was finally where it belonged, fitting into the empty spot in Yoshi’s heart like it had always owned a place there, right alongside all the other pieces that had claimed their space within the past few months. 

Yoshi didn’t think his heart could get any fuller. 

But then Leo smiled at him, and Yoshi couldn’t have been more happy to be proven wrong. 

[bakugohoex]

hai ria, how are you?

I was looking at ur anons thing sorry I don’t have any advice for interviews :// but I was also wondering if u had any advice for me lololol

basically I struggle with getting jobs / or even applying for them tbh because I have really bad social anxiety and I wanted to know if you had any tips for interviews and what to write on CVs

-🐷

hey my lovely ☺️ i’m doing good just hungry but waiting for my family to leave for school and work so i can go downstairs, how are you doing my babes?

aww don’t worry about not having any advice, the people who sent it didn’t have to but it was nice of them too, and ofc i’ll help in any way

i’ll just separate it into parts;

for cv’s

i actually made my own template cause all the ones online were either gross or not free, but i think like format wise i liked having two columns where my information and skills and interest were on one side and the other had a bigger chunk of like a personal statement about my self, my past work experience, my education and my reference

just to make it easier i’ll list it properly here cause a chunk of a paragraph aint that helpful, so starting from the smaller column to the bigger one i went:

personal information

name, address, email, phone number

skills

i looked at what the job was asking and put skills that were applicable to the job in this part

interests

just anything i do in my spare time

personal statement

this is the next column and it’s a bigger column and this is basically just selling yourself i added a couple adjectives that i couldn’t fit in my skills section and some examples of when i used the skill in it as well and it a company stresses a couple of things in the job description i’d highlight that here, so if a company stresses customer service i’d speak about wanting to gain and express my customer service insight

work experience

any past jobs, i also put voluntary work i did because jobs like if you’ve done some volunteering and a quick bullet point list of the roles you had in each job i made sure to show how it’s applicable to the job that i’m gonna send the cv too

education

just basics so i put that i got n gcses from grades whatever the grade is and then i did a level 3 finance course and put that and the grade and cause i haven’t got my a levels i just put awaiting a level grades

reference

i just put it’s available on request

so that’s basically what to write on a cv well that’s how i did it if anybody else has anything else you should include comment or send in an ask

for interviews,

this is the first interview i’ve ever done but from what anons have said it’s mainly to remain cool and confident and not to stress about it, i think the point of interviews to just keep selling yourself and read up on what other people in the company have experienced in the interview and also what the company stands for, a mutual spoke about just sucking up to the company and that’s basically what you need to do

i get where you’re coming from with social anxiety cause i have anxiety myself and it’s often hard to just speak to someone you don’t know out of fear you’ll say something that is wrong or makes you look stupid but for me rubbing my palms has almost become a reliever to my anxiety, people can’t see you do it and it helped me a lot when we did mock interviews in my college to prepare us for the real world

i’d say practice a couple things you might say because questions for interviews always seem to have the same vibe to them and just practice how if they asked you an example of multi tasking just have a bank of different scenarios in your head

for applying in general;

it’s always better to apply via company website then indeed or reed or linkedin, company’s check their own applications rather than these third parties, i had applied to so many jobs on indeed and hadn’t gotten any but applying through the company landed me a reply/interview which i hadn’t received previously

i genuinely wouldn’t worry about the applying process, once you have a set cv that you can tweak depending on the job it takes half an hour at most to send off an application

my final advice would be to just look for a job that you like you don’t want to be stuck doing something you hate for a couple months or however long you plan to work but yeah hope this all helps ☺️

[bi-naesala]

Join me

Despite Maul's doubts on the subject, Obi-Wan is convinced that commander Cody would be a great asset to add to them team, for pragmatic reasons and also... others. Will he be able to convince Cody to collaborate?

((Part of the Sith Obi-Wan AU))

Can also be read on AO3

Meetings with Maul have become less frequent once it became known that he’s still alive. This isn’t something Obi-Wan had planned, but he figures that saving his brother was too important than secrecy.

In his immense mercy, he’s decided long ago to let it pass, despite the fact that, in the end, Savage Oppress has died anyway. As much as it is a tragedy, it’s also good, though, very good, because it only added more to Maul’s rage; now it’s not just Sidious the one he wants dead, but Ventress too, who according to him is the catalyst of Savage’s premature death. What matters now is that Maul wants revenge even more than he did before, which is exactly what Obi-Wan needs.

The downside is that they have to be even more careful than before when they meet. Sidious’ words when he learned that Maul is actually alive still haven’t left Obi-Wan’s mind; it’s the closest to fear he’s every felt.

 And this is why they’re meeting in a shitty Outer Rim motel, instead of a decent place.

 This is something - the only thing - he admires of him, his ability to turn even the most innocent sentence into a threat.

He told it wasn’t his fault, that he did his duty as he should’ve, that the Dark Side is a mysterious thing, but he also implied that he was his job to rectify his mistake, or else the consequences were going to be dire.

Frankly, Obi-Wan can’t wait to shut his mouth forever.

 “Are you even listening?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head as Maul’s voice brings him back to reality.

“Mh, sorry. Could you repeat that?”

Maul rolls his eyes. “Weren’t you the one who said that we had little time and that we should get to business immediately?” he chastises him. Well, he’s right.

“I know, I’m sorry…”

Maul responds with silence, at least at first. He looks deep in thought, and for once Obi-Wan isn’t able to predict what is going on inside his head, at least not until Maul speaks again. “You seem distracted as of late.”

“Do I?” Obi-Wan replies, trying to dissimulate. “Must be your imagination...”

“Obviously,” Maul hisses, completely unconvinced. “You aren’t at all thinking about something, or rather… someone.” Obi-Wan, for all his supposed diplomatic abilities, looks away, barely able to keep his guilt hidden as Maul continues. “And this certain someone certainly isn’t a certain clone commander that has been working with you for the past what? Two years?”

At those words, Obi-Wan glares Maul with all the fury he can muster, weirdly protective as he hears the spiteful tone with which Maul is obviously referring to commander Cody. Maul, never one to back down for a challenge, holds his gaze like it’s nothing, determined not to be the first one to breaks, which prompts Obi-Wan to do the sensible thing and deign him of a response, lest they end up their meeting having solved nothing.

 “You’re right,” he admits. “I’ve been thinking about him.”

“He seems a capable and honest man, I’ll give you that,” Maul states, though he continues, “but that’s not all, isn’t it?”

He’s right, again. “Yes, I… I’ve been thinking about getting him on board of our operation.”

“And why is that?” Maul asks, face carefully blank - not that if fools Obi-Wan.

“For starters, it’s become harder and harder to keep our correspondence from him. It would be way more efficient for him to become our accomplice rather than having him finding out about this project of ours and reporting it to Sidious,” he begins, trying not to sound like he cares too much about this. “He’s intelligent, a great fighter, and already knows about Sidious. I think he’d be useful to us.”

Maul doesn’t say anything at first. He keeps looking at Obi-Wan with an intensity that makes the other almost want to duck away from his gaze, scratching his chin as he thinks. Despite everything, Obi-Wan stays there, still, letting Maul think his thoughts; he refuses to give him the chance to watch him faltering.

 Eventually, however, Maul reaches a conclusion.

“I think you’re making a mistake. You’re risking to ruin everything.”

“When I came to you about this, so long ago…” Obi-Wan begins, “Wasn’t I taking a risk as well? You could’ve ratted me out to Sidious, but you didn’t.”

“So? What does that have to do--”

“Don’t you see? It’s the same exact thing now,” Obi-Wan concludes, and there’s a teasing smile on his face. “You and Cody are more alike than you think.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. “Take it as you will,” he says.

 Still, despite Maul’s reticence, he does have a point.

“I can see why they call you the Negotiation,” Maul mutters, making Obi-Wan chuckle, but then he continues. “Does he interest you?”

“I thought we’ve already established that he can be of great help to us--”

“Obi-Wan,” Maul cuts him off - Obi-Wan, not Kenobi - making it clear that he wants him to cut the shit. Obi-Wan sighs, looking away from him.

“Yes,” he admits, eventually. He has promised himself time and time again that he would’ve played the part of the mature person and talk about his feelings, but every time he tried, the resolve to do so always abandoned him. “This doesn’t mean that-- mpfh!”

He’s cut off by a kiss. Maul’s holding him by the edge of his Jedi tunic, lips pressed against his to convey what he can’t with words. Only once they pull away he speaks.

“I know.”

They kiss again, this time slower. It took them a while - too long one might argue - but now they know: no matter what happens, they belong to each other.

 “Go, now, and convince your commander,” Maul mutters as he pulls away. It seems all too easy, but Obi-Wan’s glad things are going as they are.

“I will.”

Obi-Wan begins to walk away, but before he vanishes from Maul’s view, he turns towards him.

“By the way, you should give him a chance,” he says. “I have a feeling you’d like him.”

Maul snorts.

“Yeah, right. We’ll see…”

  Once Obi-Wan’s back to Coruscant, he can’t help but to sigh, scratching his beard.

Maul isn’t entirely wrong: this infatuation of his could jeopardize everything, but he doesn’t think he’s gotten a wrong read on Cody. He’s more likely to follow him than Sidious, of this he’s certain, and yet there’s still room for some small doubt in his head.

The best thing he can do is to ask Cody directly, and if he truly says no… Well, he has ways to deal with that, because even though he wants him on the team, he’s not going to let everything get ruined in case he’s misjudged him.

Yes, he’s going to find him.

 All it takes is a comm to confirm his suspicions: Cody is in his commander quarters back in the Coruscant barracks.

“Cody, may I speak with you, privately?” Obi-Wan asks, trying not to focus too much on the way the commander’s face lights up with a teasing smile as he replies.

“Aren’t we already speaking privately?”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes, and yet he can’t help but to smile. “No sassing the general, commander.”

“Aw, not even a bit?” the other replies, though after a pause he continues, “Shall I get the boiler ready?”

Tea does sound lovely, he’s not going to lie. Alright, Obi-Wan will indulge. “Yes, if you’d be so kind.”

Cody nods, then pauses. Actually, both of them do. There’s a strange tension in the air, tangible even despite the fact that they aren’t speaking directly in the strict sense of the word. There’s more that both of them would like to say, but something stops them, maybe a sense of discretion, maybe something else…

“Then I’ll be waiting for you, general,” Cody says, eventually, his voice awfully soft, or maybe it must be some kind of interference on the comm - Obi-Wan would rather it being the latter.

“Yes, see you soon, Cody.”

  When he does indeed arrive to Cody’s quarters, he’s greeted by the commander, who’s still wearing his dress grays, instead of his usual armor. Figured it would be more comfortable.

There’s something in the way they greet each other, in the way Cody excuses himself to serve them tea, that is quite… domestic. Yes, domestic. That’s not a word Obi-Wan ever thought he’d use for anything, not with how his life has been, not with how his life is going to be; there’s no space for domesticity in his future Empire, not for him at least.

 In another life, maybe… but Obi-Wan shouldn’t get distracted from what is his main objective of this visit.

 “Cody, may I ask you something?”

“Of course, general,” the clone replies.

“Please, this isn’t an official meeting, you can call me Obi-Wan.”

He can sense the commander’s hesitation, but he can’t help but to smile when he says: “Alright, I’ll try… Obi-Wan.”

He can sense that it’s been a while since he wanted to do that. He really hopes their mutual attraction will be enough to convince him…

 “What do you think about my Master?”

Cody’s posture tenses immediately at those words; he’s clearly guarded now.

“I think that he’s a great strategist,” he begins, almost mechanical, like he’s rehearsed this speech time and time again, “And--”

“Cody. I’m not testing your loyalty,” Obi-Wan cuts him off, “I don’t need lies.”

The commander almost flinches at his harsh words, but his poker face is excellent. Things won’t go anywhere if they both keep being guarded like this however; he needs to change tactics.

He rises from his seat and he walks towards Cody, kneeling in front of him, then he goes to take one of his hands between his. Cody’s still tense, but Obi-Wan can feel the waves of emotions that this is causing him - he feels them too.

“But don’t you think that he’s a bit too much… self-serving?” he asks, massaging his knuckles.

“Talk about an understatement,” Cody huffs. Now they’re going somewhere.

“Exactly,” he replies, “If I may be so frank, I’ve been having doubts about his effectiveness as a ruler…”

 Cody doesn’t say anything for a while, deep in thought. Still, he hasn’t pushed Obi-Wan away, so at least it’s safe for him to assume that he must have a favorable opinion about what he just said, nor that he minds him touching him so intimately, something they have never done, except that time… He should focus on the present, not the past.

What he begins doing, instead, is to rub circles with his thumbs on Cody’s palm. Even for this he doesn’t push him away, nor he gives any indication of not liking it, so Obi-Wan keeps going.

 When Cody seems to have reached a conclusion, he speaks again. “So, where are you going with this?”

Straight to the point. Obi-Wan should’ve known. “I have friends… Friends that agree with me,” he says, seeing no point in hiding his true intentions anymore.

He can sense Cody’s amusement as he replies. “Something tells me you have a plan of some sort.”

“Mh… Depends if you want in or not…”

“And if I do?”

They’re so close that Obi-Wan could safely close the distance between them, but…

From all the scruples he gets, he must be making a rather poor Sith, mustn’t he?

“Cody… This is a dangerous path. Are you sure you want to take it?”

“Obi-Wan,” Cody begins, his voice serious, “I’d rather do this with you than remain under Sidious’ orders.”

Obi-Wan wants to kiss him so bad, but what he does instead is telling him everything: the plot, Padmé’s participation and… Maul.

 He reserves him for last, and can feel the change of atmosphere as he admits to everything. Cody’s gaze hardens, and his voice becomes cold. “Ah, he says, “So this whole thing was all a ruse?”

Damn it. This isn’t how Obi-Wan wanted things to go. “No!” he exclaims immediately, hands shooting straight up to cradle Cody’s face between his hands. He moves gently, with care; it’s so different from when he’s with Maul, but lately they too have gotten softer with each other. “I wasn’t lying to you. Cody… you aren’t just a pawn in my plan. If I’ve shown interest in you, it’s because this is how I really feel.”

“But what about--”

“He knows, and he’s fine with it.”

 There are many things that should’ve been said, but for once Obi-Wan’s glad Cody takes the initiative to kiss him.

He’s not being soft, and Obi-Wan melts immediately. He’s waited for this for too long.

As he reaches out for Cody’s face, cupping it between his hands, a surge of thoughts of mine mine mine mine begin to echo louder and louder in his head. He’s always been denied everything in his life, but not this time, not now that he has the power to get what he wants.

Foolish Jedi with their fear of attachments; they haven’t understood how much more powerful they can make all of them. Granted, they also make you vulnerable, because they give you something to lose, but in return they give you a drive that nothing else can give you, because when you get attached to something, you’d do anything in order not to lose it.

Maul is his, Cody is his, his future Empire is his. One could ask him what makes him think that he deserves all this, what makes him so better than everyone else that he can get what he wants and keep it from himself; Obi-Wan would just laugh and silence whoever would dare to question him in such a way. He wouldn’t even need to use brute force, just his silver tongue; if there’s something he’s learned in these years is that, with the right words, he can bring anyone to his cause.

 By the time he and Cody pull away, they’ve been kissing so harshly that their lips are all bruised, but it doesn’t matter, not at all. What matters is how obediently and pliantly Cody moves, when Obi-Wan gets him on the table.

The teapots crash on the pavement with a loud noise, but neither of them minds, not when they’re busy kissing and kissing and kissing again. Their bodies fit so well together, Obi-Wan finds. An obvious sign that it’s meant to be, because Cody is his, just as much as Obi-Wan is his. What? Of course it goes both ways: Obi-Wan would do anything Cody asks, just like he’d do with Maul.

It could be so easy to just use them - use everyone - as means to an end, but Obi-Wan has never liked the easy road.

 He pulls away just enough to be able to watch Cody squirm under him, taking in the details of his flushed face, as well as his swollen lips and undone hair.

It could be a problem for them to be found in such a compromising position, but Obi-Wan’s not worried about it; he’s locked the door as soon as he stepped in, and if someone still manages to get inside, well… he has other ways to deal with them.

Deciding that he doesn’t care about that, he goes down on Cody again. He’ll take everything he’ll have to give him; selfish, he knows, but he refuses not to indulge in his nature. He won’t hold his freedom back.

 Eventually, he’ll have to fill Cody in with the specifics of his plan, but for now he only keeps kissing him and touching him and holding him. It’s something he’ll never get tired of.

What really matters is that he’s gained his devotion, the strongest weapon of all.

[lady-divine-writes]

Jealousy

Aziraphale is used to people stopping by his shop to flirt with his (sleeping) husband, so he doesn’t let it bother him. But when the shoe is on the other foot, Crowley doesn’t take it as well. (2213 words)

A peculiar thing happens in Aziraphale's shop on August 13th at precisely two in the afternoon.

A man comes in looking for a book.

That’s not the peculiar part.

People attempt to buy books at Aziraphale’s shop all the time. They’re mostly unsuccessful, but the opportunity is theoretically there.

The peculiar part comes when this man - a statuesque, ruggedly-handsome man in a finely tailored, tan suit, aubergine shirt, and silk tie; a man who looked like he would be equally as comfortable touring the Savannah on holiday as he would be making corporate decisions in a board room – flirts with Aziraphale.

Aziraphale can be oblivious to those things, but the only people who seem to have eyes for him anyway are older women, mainly widows and divorcees, not searching for an exciting good-looker for their next relationship, but a reliable, stable, respectful man that they can talk to about books and music; who will take them to fancy restaurants on Friday nights and play Canasta with them on the weekends. A nice, non-threatening man who likes to garden and do crossword puzzles and cuddle, who won’t make too many demands on them physically. And even then, by the time Aziraphale figures them out, the women in question have already gotten bored and gone, leaving Aziraphale secretly grateful that he didn’t have to part with another one of his precious first editions.

Flirting happens to Crowley all the time. That Aziraphale notices. Women and men alike wander in off the streets to gawk at him. He’s a demon. He appeals to the baser instincts of mortals and that draws them to him. But he also happens to be stunning (in Aziraphale’s opinion, at least).

Aziraphale sees himself as having the appeal of an old couch – quaint and comfortable, familiar, convenient when you need a place to rest your bum but not the sort of thing you’d get excited over if the doorbell rang and you saw it sitting on your front stoop.

But the man who comes in, with his Rolex watch and his hundred dollar haircut, doesn’t so much as even make eye contact with Crowley.

He only has eyes for Aziraphale.

“Hello,” he says in a voice so smooth it slips through his lips and into Aziraphale’s ears without him needing to breathe too hard. “My name’s Ryan. I called earlier about purchasing a first edition of The Velveteen Rabbit? You said you had a copy?”

“Oh,” Aziraphale says with a startled gulp, but he doesn’t know why. He’s not sure why the tone of this man’s voice makes him swallow like that. Or why the way he looks at him makes the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears go pink. “Yes. Yes, I do. Excuse me for not fetching it prior to your arrival. I wasn’t sure you were serious about picking it up.”

“Yes, I am. It’s very important to me. I’ve been looking for one everywhere.”

“Then you’re in luck!” Aziraphale rises off his stool with a hop. “Because I do indeed have one.” He strolls through the rows of shelves, hunting down the copy Adam had so conveniently magicked up for him after the Apoca-no-go. He hums while he walks, suddenly in a chipper mood as he scans the spines in the children’s section.

As happens quite a bit when Aziraphale’s in the stacks, he gets the feeling that he’s not alone. And he’s not. There’s a general presence that seems to haunt his shop, one that he hasn’t sorted out yet. And, of course, there’s his husband, napping on a chair off to one corner that gets neither too much shade nor sun. Aziraphale peeks over his shoulder, curious if his husband may have woken up and decided to slither behind him, but it’s not him.

It’s Ryan.

And Aziraphale smiles bashfully to himself.

“You know, many people would simply download a book like this,” Aziraphale says when he finds what he’s searching for. “I’ve heard you can find it online for free.”

“True, but reading a book online doesn’t compare to holding it in your hands. And a first edition has probably been held by many people, read to many children, and just generally loved to pieces. Kind of like the velveteen rabbit. Wouldn’t you agree?”

From behind the stacks, Aziraphale sees Crowley peek out, glaring over the rims of his Valentino shades. The angel’s eyes brighten at the sight of him. He’s about to summon him over, but he blinks, and his husband disappears in the quarter-second it takes for his eyes to open again.

“Yes, I would definitely agree.”

“Of course, it may not necessarily be that way with every book. You have to make a connection with it.” Ryan takes the book from Aziraphale, two of his fingers brushing the back of Aziraphale’s hand when he does. “They’re kind of like people that way. After a while, you develop a relationship with it. It becomes important to you. And you never want to part with it.”

“Oh, that’s … that’s beautiful,” Aziraphale says. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it described that way before, but it’s true. I feel that way about all my favorite books. I do hope your little one feels the same way about this one.”

“Oh, I’m not married.” Ryan flashes his vacant ring finger along with a brilliant smile. “Don’t have any children. I’m sorry to say that this book is simply a gift from me to my inner child. It’s the key to something I’ve been missing, something that I’m hoping to get back.”

“That’s charming. I hope whatever it is that you’ve lost, you find it again.”

“I do as well.”

They talk as Aziraphale rings him up – about books, about music, about the trinkets Aziraphale keeps around the shop and the history behind each one. They briefly talk about Ryan’s job as CFO of a brand new startup that’s skyrocketed within the past year, but they mostly talk about Aziraphale’s shop and his passion for the written word. No other customers come in, or if they do, Aziraphale doesn’t notice. He pulls Ryan up a chair and offers him a cup of tea, hoping Crowley will eventually join them, but he doesn’t go looking for him. Crowley seems to relish his eight hour naps in Aziraphale’s shop.

Far be it for Aziraphale to interrupt him.

As the day drips on, Aziraphale starts to notice the change in the quality of the light as shadows lengthen across the floor. He glances over at the clock on the wall to see if his suspicions are correct, and he gasps.

“Oh, my dear! It’s five o’clock! I didn’t notice the time! Oh, I do hope you aren’t late for anything!”

“Not at all. It was my day off. And I can’t imagine a lovelier way to have spent it than sitting here, talking to you.”

“That’s very kind of you to say.”

“I’m just curious,” Ryan says, gathering up his book in the brown paper bag Aziraphale supplies him, “what are your hours? I didn’t see them posted on the door. It would be nice to know, just in case my inner child convinces me to buy another book from my past.”

“This store is mainly a pet project of mine, so my hours are a little, shall we say, erratic ...”

“That’s adorable,” Ryan says.

“B-but …” Aziraphale stutters at the interruption “… I should be here tomorrow. Offhand I can’t think of any reason why I won’t be.”

“Excellent!” Ryan smiles, distinctly pleased as he squirrels his purchase behind him. “Then I’ll be back tomorrow. 2:30. Nice snake, by the way,” he says, pointing to a spot behind Aziraphale’s head. “Is it real?”

“Quite.” Aziraphale peeks over his shoulder, relieved to see that Crowley hadn’t slipped out of the bookshop and driven off without his noticing, but worried since he only transforms into a snake when he’s agitated.

And from the way he flicks his tongue, eyes wide, shifting uneasily in place, Aziraphale can tell he’s highly agitated.

That makes him dangerous.

“Constrictor?”

“Uh, no …” Aziraphale walks Ryan to the door, eager to close up shop and get things with his husband ironed out. “Red-bellied black snake.”

The smile on Ryan’s face drops straight to his knees. “Aren’t those venomous?”

“Only if they bite you. Thank you so much for stopping by. See you tomorrow. Mind how you go.” Aziraphale practically tosses the poor man out onto the sidewalk but he has no way of explaining to him that it’s for his own good. Aziraphale barely has the locks thrown when he feels the snake rise up behind him, transforming into the human form of his demon husband.

“Ssso, isss thisss going to be a thing now?”

Aziraphale sighs. He loves his husband. He truly does. But he can be so temperamental sometimes, even for a demon. “Why whatever do you mean?”

“Men dropping by your ssshop and making eyesss at you? Eating up all your time?”

“One man.” Aziraphale chuckles. “And my dear, people stop by every day simply to throw themselves at you. Do I bat an eye?”

“But I don’t care about them. None of them make my voice go all quivery like that man made yours.”

“I do admit that maybe I got a little carried away,” Aziraphale confesses, putting a hand to his flushed cheek. “See, I’m not use to getting that sort of attention. It was nice for the moment, but I don’t think it’s something I could handle every day.”

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because I’m afraid I’m not very good around people. I prefer the company of my books and my music … and my ill-tempered husband.”

“But that’s the kind of bloke you fancy, right?” Crowley presses. “Someone who talks to you about books and music, and dresses in expensive clothes …”

“You dress in the most expensive clothes I’ve ever seen!” Aziraphale points out with an incredulous laugh.

“You know what I mean!” Crowley says, gesturing with a frustrated hand. “His clothes have … ffffwwwpppp … colors in them!”

“I see. Yes, I guess that does make a difference.”

“I knew it.”

“Ugh! Listen to me, you stupid old snake!” Aziraphale loops his arms around Crowley’s neck, forcing his eyes on him. “The bloke I fancy, as you so eloquently put it, is the one who’s known me my entire existence. Who drinks with me and goes out to lunch with me. Who fights beside me and stays with me, even when I call him ridiculous. Who comes back even when he threatens to run away.” Crowley’s eyes drop to his feet, unable to look at his angel while he’s being reminded of his less-than-stellar attempt to persuade Aziraphale to abandon Earth and join him out in the stars … which ended with his saying he’d go off on his own and never think about him again. “I don’t care if we don’t talk about books. It’s enough that you sit beside me while I read and hold my hand. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Why in the world would you think I’d want someone else when I have the best possible person for me already?”

“’dunno.” Crowley shrugs. “All we do is hang out here lately. I think, maybe, I was afraid you might be getting bored with me. That tying yourself down to a domesssticated demon might not be what you signed up for.”

“Bored with you?” Aziraphale snorts. “After 6000 years, you think I’d get bored with you now? You seem to forget that during the decades we weren’t together, my time was spent here. You were the one jet-setting around the world. By rights, I think you should be getting bored with me. With my life.”

“Oh, no,” Crowley says, sliding closer. “You, my darling, could never get boring.”

Aziraphale raises a skeptical brow. “You forget, I’m much better at detecting sarcasm now than I was 6000 years ago.”

“That wasn’t sarcasm.” Crowley snakes his arms around his husband’s waist. “I can’t think of any place I’d rather be than here, wasting my days with you.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. But maybe it is time we take a vacation.”

“Yesss,” Crowley hisses happily. “Go to all the old haunts, relive the glory days.”

Aziraphale rolls his eyes. “Otherwise known as last month.”

“You pick first. We’ll go anywhere you want to go. We can pack up my Bentley and leave tonight.”

“Well, tomorrow night.”

Crowley grimaces. “Why tomorrow night?”

“Ryan said he’d be back at 2:30 tomorrow and ...”

Crowley grabs Aziraphale’s collar and (carefully) pushes him up against the nearest wall. He presses him there with his body, tries his hardest to be intimidating, but it doesn’t dim Aziraphale’s grin a single degree.

It never does.

“Not … funny … angel.”

“No?” Aziraphale’s gaze drifts to his husband’s lips the way it always seems to when Crowley has him in this position.

“No,” Crowley says, accepting the invitation of those baby blues and kissing his angel softly. “Not one little bit.”

“You can tell me all about it when we hit the road,” Aziraphale says. “And we’d better make it quick. We’re burning daylight.”

 ***Notes: Let me guys know if you want to see a part 2 where Crowley actually meets our dear Mr. Ryan XD

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Eighty Seven

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

June 25th, 2003

“You’ll do fine, Remy, I promise,” Toby’s voice soothed him over the phone. “We both know that Emile isn’t going to say no.”

“I know,” Remy whined, pulling at his hair. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not scared as all hell, Tobes.”

“That’s why I’m telling you the truth,” Toby said. “Emile’s going to love whatever you do, no matter where you do it. It’s gonna happen. And he’s going to say yes. He loves you, dipshit. That’s not up for debate.”

Remy sighed and massaged his forehead. “God, Tobes.”

“I know. But you’ll do wonderfully, I’m sure of it,” Toby said. “I believe in you.”

“Thanks, Tobes.”

“Anytime, Rem.”

  June 26th, 2003

Remy blearily opened his eyes, and checked the clock. Half an hour before his alarm was due to go off. Not long enough to sleep in more, and just a tad too early to be happy about it. He turned off his alarm and slipped out of bed, getting dressed for the day as quietly as possible. Emile was still asleep in bed, and Remy loved getting to see Emile at peace, mouth just open enough to breathe, his curls wildly spread on his pillow. He didn’t get to appreciate it often enough.

Slipping into his office, he pulled out the bottom right drawer and took out the ring box. Today was the day of the coffee shop interview, and Remy wanted to propose as it was wrapping up. Business at the shop was booming, and Remy wanted to make sure that everyone knew he was taken.

Remy then went downstairs and put on the pot for coffee. He looked out the kitchen window. It was shaping up to be a hot summer, but he didn’t mind. After all, Sleep Easy had air conditioning, and that was going to be where he was spending most of his time nowadays.

He couldn’t help it, a smile broke across his face. He was his own man. He made his own hours, he made his own shop. Emile bought the property, but Remy had made it well and truly his. And he couldn’t be happier.

Frantic footsteps sounded down the stairs and Remy turned to find Emile at the edge of the kitchen, staring at him. “You’re never up this early,” he said.

Remy shrugged. “Couldn’t exactly go back to sleep, I got up ten minutes ago. You okay?”

“Nightmare,” Emile breathed. “God, you were dead, and instead of you I was dating this girl, she was called Vanessa although I doubt she’s actually what your sister looked like. That’s who she was in the dream, though. And I kept asking her where you were, until she told me you never made it through freshman year and—” Emile cut himself off, breath ragged and shaky. “I keep getting those nightmares and I don’t know why. But then I woke up and you weren’t there and—and—and I just...”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Remy said, wrapping his arms around Emile gently but firmly, reminding his boyfriend that he was here. “Nightmares happen. But I’m still here. Understand? I’m still here.”

Emile nodded into Remy’s shoulder.

“Now, you need your glasses, and you need to get ready. We’re both headed to the shop for the interview, remember?” Remy asked.

“Yeah,” Emile said, yawning. “It’s the only thing you’ve been able to talk about all week.”

“Guilty,” Remy laughed. “Go upstairs and go get changed, okay?”

Emile nodded, mumbled, “Love you,” and went back upstairs.

Remy poured himself some coffee and sipped out of the mug for a minute. He wanted this all to go exactly to plan, even if he knew that was wishful thinking. The reporter would say, “That’s the last of my questions,” and then he would say, “Actually, Emile, I have a question for you,” and get down on one knee. The thought made him positively giddy.

Emile came back downstairs, and this time, he was every bit the poised, if overexcitable, boyfriend he had grown to know and love over the past three years. “How do I look?” he asked.

“Handsome as ever, mio amore,” Remy said with a smile.

“Thanks,” Emile sighed, and Remy could see the tired, fearful cracks in Emile’s facade. “I feel like I only slept for two hours last night.”

“That will happen,” Remy allowed. “But today’s a good day. We’ll make it good if we have to, but it’s going to be a good day.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Emile said, nodding. “You and this interview, it has to go well. You’re so enthusiastic about the shop it couldn’t be anything but great.”

“Shut up,” Remy laughed. “There are ways it could go wrong. We’re not gonna focus on that, though.”

“Agreed,” Emile said.

The two of them grabbed their things and headed out to the shop. Remy opened the door for the workers to file in, and by the time everything was set up, there was a small line waiting, the first in the line being the reporter. She had a small, but genuine smile on her face as Remy took her order before they agreed to head outside for some pictures and the interview.

She pulled out a recorder and started the interview, the general niceties got out of the way, and Remy introduced Emile to her, letting her know that they were partners and he would be staying for the duration of the interview. “That’s fine,” she said, nodding. “So, Mister Picani, why don’t we start with the obvious: what drove you to make Sleep Easy?”

Remy laughed. “Believe it or not, it was a streak of bad luck at my last jobs,” he said. “They seemed dead-set against making me a manager, even though I knew what I was talking about and I had ways to improve the shops around here to waste less coffee and be more time efficient. We both know all too well how long the lines get around here.”

“That’s true,” the reporter laughed. “So you decided to strike out on your own?”

“Emile was the one who encouraged me to do it,” Remy said. “I’m numbers-savvy according to him, and he said I had the know-how to do it. Not getting promoted was just the kick in the pants to give it a try.”

“And that worked out really well, obviously,” she said.

“Indeed,” Remy said with a grin. “It’s worked out better than I could have hoped.”

Emile was fidgeting next to Remy as the reporter brought out a camera and kept asking questions. They got into talk about behind the scenes of business, and Remy admitted he spent hours upon hours of accounting work, which he hated, but he said the end result in this case was worth it. Emile got more and more fidgety as time went on, and just as Remy was about to ask if Emile was okay, Emile cut in. “Hey, Rem, I have a question for you,” he said.

“Babe, you know all of this already, I talked it over with you,” Remy said, confused. He had ranted to Emile enough times that Emile really should at least get the general idea of these answers.

“Not that kind of question,” Emile said. Emile reached into his pocket, pulled out a ring box, and the entire world seemed to pause as he got down on one knee. “Do I have to say the words? Because I realized I could never make a romantic speech for you, so I decided to cut to the chase.”

Remy’s face broke out into a grin as Emile opened the ring box. Oh my god, this is actually happening! Oh my god! “Of course I’ll marry you, Emile!” he laughed. He reached into his own pocket and pulled out a ring box of his own. “Great minds, huh?”

Emile laughed, stood, and kissed Remy deeply, which the reporter happily took pictures of, congratulating them on the engagement as well as the success of the store. “Thank you!” Remy exclaimed. “I am a little disappointed he beat me to the punch, but I can’t be too mad about it.”

“You two both planned to propose at the same time, what are the odds?” the reporter laughed. “Congratulations. I actually don’t think I have any more questions for either of you, and I think the engagement pictures would be perfect for the newspaper. I’ll fight tooth and nail for them to include it.”

“Appreciate it,” Remy said, still draping himself over Emile.

“Thank you both so much for your time, and for the coffee!” she said, raising her cup to the two of them.

Remy laughed and waved her off, his engagement ring glinting in the sun. He looked down at it with a stupid smile on his face. “Oh my god,” he breathed.

“My thoughts exactly,” Emile said, looking at his own ring, which Remy had chosen for him. It was eerily similar to the silver band Emile had gotten Remy. “I didn’t realize that when you asked me about my class ring, you were getting my size.”

Remy laughed. “What can I say?” he asked. “I really, really wanted to make sure I got this right.”

“I did, too,” Emile said. “I can’t believe it.”

“Even if it’s not legal yet, I’m super looking forward to marrying you,” Remy said.

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Emile asked. “They’re contesting for gay rights in the Supreme Court.”

Remy froze, those words trying to sink in and not exactly registering. “What?” he asked.

“The state of Massachusetts? Their Supreme Court is holding hearings for the appeal of the Goodridge case,” Emile said.

Remy’s heart was practically thudding out of his chest and his eyes were getting hot. “But...if they win, that means...that means...”

“We could get married up in Massachusetts,” Emile finished with a grin. “And I don’t know about you, Rem, but I have a good feeling about the case.”

Remy blinked and a few tears fell as he put his hand to his mouth. “Oh my god. I was planning on proposing as a symbolic thing. I didn’t...I hadn’t been keeping up with the cases after DOMA hit. There’s a chance...?”

“There’s a chance,” Emile confirmed. “And we’re going to seize it and use it for all it’s worth.”

Remy broke out into a watery grin, kissing Emile. “Let’s go into the back of the shop, call the people who need to know, yeah?” he asked.

“Sounds great. I know my parents are gonna flip,” Emile said with a laugh.

Remy laughed along with him and the two went inside. Remy stuck his hand up, showing off the engagement ring. “I got engaged, everyone! We said yes to each other!”

The staff all cheered and clapped, and half the patrons did, as well, though they looked significantly more confused. “Who did it first?” August asked. “Which one of you got the balls?”

“I did!” Emile exclaimed, proudly. “I beat Rem to the punch for once in my life!”

August laughed and gave him a high-five as they went to the back. “Did everyone know that you were planning this?” Remy asked.

“The people who were important to you weighed in on my decision,” Emile said as Remy pulled out his cell phone. “Of course they knew.”

Remy rolled his eyes and dialled Toby’s number, still feeling a little heady from it all. Toby answered on the second ring. “Don’t tell me, Emile proposed, didn’t he?” Toby asked with a smug grin in his voice.

“Oh, you asshole!” Remy shouted down the line. “You knew, too?!”

“I gave him the idea, actually!” Toby said with glee. “Put me on speaker!”

Remy did so with a huff.

“Hey, Toby!” Emile chirped, laughing.

“Hey! My baby brother give you a ring, too?” Toby asked.

“How did—” Emile cut himself short. “We both came to you for a pep talk?!”

“Twenty minutes apart,” Toby said, laughing himself. “And you both had zero clue.”

“Oh, my god—” Emile exclaimed, turning away before turning back to the phone. “But yeah, we’re officially engaged. And we’re going to have a result on the Massachusetts case by the end of the year, so...be on the lookout for an email from me saying what color your tux should be, all right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Toby laughed. “Glad to hear you two finally got together and put those rings on each other’s fingers. Honestly, it’s about damn time.”

“You’re an asshole!” Remy repeated.

“Oh, like you’re any better,” Toby scoffed. “Love you, baby bro. Try to go easy on Emile tonight during your ‘celebration,’ yeah? I know he strained his right leg a couple weeks ago, and you don’t want it getting sore again.”

Emile turned red. “Fuck you!” Remy exclaimed.

“No, that’s Emile’s job!” Toby crowed.

And with that, he hung up. Remy blew out a breath. “Your parents next?” Remy asked.

Emile nodded.

[secretshinigami]

A First Time For Everything

Author: @complicatedmerary

For: @misora-massacre

Pairings/Characters: Halle Lidner/Naomi Misora; Naomi Misora, Halle Lidner, and I suppose Raye Penber is there, too, I guess :p

Rating/Warnings: General; brief alcohol mention

Prompt: Halle and Naomi go on a blind date

Author’s notes: Hello, hello! After writing Naomi on the other fic I gave you, I got inspired to continue writing her, especially with this intriguing prompt. I had my eyes set on a regular dinner date, but it was so boring, I had to think outside the box. How about the gentle appeal of a wlw romance of what-ifs and cherished memories? Now that is more like it! You deserve a good time after the stress of the BB fic, so, hopefully you will enjoy this! Also, the friends’ names? Totally intentional. :)

-----------

“What do you think about sunsets, Naomi?”

“Hmm?” Naomi shook off her tiring trance. It had become the standard for Naomi to be absentminded every single time Raye wanted to have a party. In this case, he expressed desire to show off to the whole city that him, Raye Penber, had finally gotten brave enough to propose to his girlfriend, Naomi Misora. It was cute, really, Naomi thought, but a single text and some phone calls would have sufficed. She was not a big fan of crowds; he should know that already. Right?

“I said, what do you think about sunsets?” Raye embraced Naomi from the side and kissed her cheek.

She smiled. “I think they are nice, very romantic. With the right person, that is.” Especially on a nice balcony overlooking the city, as the crowd is engrossed in their own little world. Thin fingers wrap around hers, her thumb gently rubbing on the underside of her hand. Naomi looked intently at their hands and her heart skipped a beat as a rush of fluttering feelings vibrated in her stomach. Was that what they meant when they say you have “butterflies” inside you? She did not seem to mind at all, like she was used to the effect she caused because of her beauty and enthralling disposition. How many girls were they before her? Why did she care? It was not as if she was ever going to see her again. Perhaps she should give her number, make sure she never forgot about her.

“You seem deep in thought.” Her blonde hair was gently blown from the crisp breeze, it was almost too perfect.

“Hmm?” A distraction from her ramblings inside her head, but not quite. Naomi was more transfixed by her amber eyes than anything else. How can a woman be this beautiful?

Raye’s watch beeped loudly, the recreation of her memory evaporating like water. “Whoops, it’s almost time. You would not mind helping me with the drinks, would you? You are such a good mixer; our guests would appreciate it.”

He clearly meant his guests with maybe two of her friends. “Right, no problem.”

At this rate, a drink was not such a bad idea.

God, she needed a drink.

She could not believe she was looking forward to this. Cathy was so vague about this Hal guy, but what was said intrigued her. All she knew was that his name was Hal Bullook, he had blond hair, brown eyes, and he was at least over five feet and ten inches. Also, he was a CIA agent. A total dreamboat, Cathy promised. Hal has heard plenty about you, she also said. She gulped. Cathy had no filter; if she told him some embarrassing facts (like the milk slipping accident from work), then she would be mortified. Then again, maybe it will make her endearing and cute in his eyes, there was nothing wrong with that.

Today was a gathering between members of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the Central Intelligence Agency, and other local governmental organizations; it was not for business, this was a regular party to get everyone together for a job well done. Plenty of fun to spread in one evening, it was bound to be unforgettable.

This was the most obnoxious party Naomi has ever been to and Raye had finally beaten his own record.

Maybe she was the one who did not understand how parties worked, but if this was an engagement party, then why was there a group of guys watching sports on her television, in her living room? And where were Cathy and Shoko? Did they miss their invitations, or did they ditch her for something else?

“Raye,” Naomi hissed, snatching him away from the group and setting him aside.

“Naomi, what was that all about? You can’t just barge in when someone is having a conversation.” Raye shook his head in disappointment.

“This is out of control! I thought the whole point of this party was to share the news. I was asked to bring snacks into the living room as if I was servant and not the main co-host. Do you realize how humiliating this is?”

“Oh, Naomi, I’m sorry, no one should treat you like this. Tell me who did it so I can tell them to leave.”

Naomi sighed. Raye could be dense sometimes, but gosh, he was too sweet. Was she making a big deal out of nothing? “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll get bored soon. By the way, have you heard from either Cathy or Shoko? You did invite them, right?”

“No, I have not heard from them, but they should be coming soon. Cathy is always late, remember?”

That was true, but that did not explain Shoko’s absence. Unless … “If they decided to arrive together, then that would explain everything.”

“Are you sure you are okay, Naomi?” Raye placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry if my friends had other plans, but I promise we will make the announcement together. Just … give it some time until the mood has been set, okay?”

“Fine,” Naomi mumbled. “You did promise.”

“Thank you,” Raye pecked her lips. “Excuse me for one second.”

The doorbell rang and Naomi perked up. In an instant, both Raye and Naomi gathered by the door and let it swing open. The sight made her smile. Speak of the devil; Cathy and Shoko were just late after all.

“Wow, girl, look at you,” Cathy giggled. “You are an absolute knockout.”

And indeed, she was. Naomi was wearing a silky, black dress, her legs accentuated tastefully by the knee length and the six-inch black heels. Her long hair had been waved with a curling iron and her makeup was subtle yet elegant. Caramel lips and a brown smoky eyeshadow, she looked flawless.

“Hopefully, I did not overdo it,” Naomi shrugged.

“Nonsense, you look perfect, if you don’t make heads turn, then they are missing out.”

Naomi gave a small twirl. “I hope Hal likes me.”

“Yeah, Hal …” Cathy fiddled with her bracelet, looking to the side. “Come on, let’s go, we can’t be late.”

“You do realize you are late, right?” Naomi teased Cathy.

“Yeah, yeah, that was bad.” Cathy blushed. “But I have a good excuse this time. Traffic was a nightmare.”

“You say that every time.” Naomi drank from her glass.

“It’s true, though!” She widened her brown eyes to appear more innocent. “I know I have concealed the truth from you before, but I’m not lying right now. I have bad luck, that’s all.”

“Fine,” Naomi could not be bothered to continue this discussion. “I forgive you.”

“And that’s why you are a great friend, you are willing to look past my flaws.” Cathy giggled.

At approximately 4:30, Naomi and Cathy arrived at the gathering, prepared to have the greatest time possible. Naomi was transfixed by the amount of silver decorations the room had all over. It was as if there was plenty of money invested to make it look pretty. And from the corner of her eyes, she saw the type of food that was set on the table. It was a banquet full of delicacies that range from a fancy ham and an elaborated fruit salad.

At least she felt better about her dress code.

“Wow,” Cathy gasped.

“I know,” Naomi replied. However, there were more concerning issues. If she could find Hal, perhaps they could crack a joke about how this gathering’s budget was blown for appearances. Then again, there was the possibility that he could have a terrible sense of humor. She had to thread lightly. Now, where he could be among this sea of professionals? Funnily enough, she did not catch a lot of men that were at least taller than five feet and ten inches, so perhaps Hal was in the bathroom.

She stood there in her spot, darting around for a sign of a tall blond.

Well, she did see a tall blonde woman among the crowd, but that was definitely not Hal. Their eyes aligned and she waved at her, smiling. Naomi waved back. She must be a coworker she had never notice before, it would have looked bad if she ignored her.

However, where was he?

“What are you doing?” Cathy took her arm and dragged her in the middle of the room. “That is your date, come say hi to Halle. Hey, Halle, here she is!”

Halle? What was Cathy talking about? No, she must have been confused, Hal was somewhere around here, this had to be a joke—

Hold on a second.

This was a joke. Blonde hair, brown eyes, she seemed taller than five feet and ten inches, especially with those high heels …

Did she miss something? Did Cathy set her up with a woman all along?

“Who is Shoko’s friend?” Naomi pointed towards a young-looking man standing next to Shoko.

“Oh, that’s her new boyfriend,” Cathy shrugged. “I barely know him, he is new in town.”

“Huh,” That was all Naomi could say. Shoko’s dating habits were … unusual to say the least. That was not a negative thing, she reassured herself, Shoko was an attractive woman. With her sleek, dark brown hair, high cheekbones, and slender figure, she attracted men like honey. If Cathy can call herself unlucky, Shoko was the opposite. It was hypnotizing, really, how Shoko threw her head back with laughter and remain poised. Her boyfriend was cute and all, but he could not hold a candle to Shoko. He almost looked … average next to her.

“Wow, could you stare any harder?”

“Hmm?” Naomi was shaken from her train of thoughts.

Cathy raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms against her chest. “If I did not know any better, you still like girls. Does Shoko know that you have a crush on her?”

“Shh, Cathy, that’s enough,” Naomi set her aside. “No, I don’t have a crush on Shoko. Also, can you keep it down?”

“Wait, Raye does not know about you and Halle, does he?”

“Shh!” She raised a finger over her mouth. “No, and I would like to keep it that way. That part of my life is done for.”

“You literally stared at Shoko like you wanted to kiss her.”

“Cathy, can you drop this?” Naomi backed away. “I’m with Raye and that’s all there is to it—" When she turned around, she bumped into a guest and her glass spilled on her white blouse. The sound attracted lurking heads to witness the disaster, including Shoko’s.

“Naomi!” Raye came to the rescue with a paper towel. “Don’t worry, I can fix this.”

Humiliating tears sprung from her eyes, her shame hot against her cheeks. She waved Raye from her sight and ran towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

Forget about the ruined blouse, why couldn’t Cathy mind her own business? Sure, it led to something wonderful once, but that was in the past.

Was it?

“Is she gorgeous or what?” Cathy smirked at Halle. “Naomi was looking forward to this day.”

Naomi wanted to cry from the humiliation. What did she do to deserve this?

“That makes the two of us,” Halle laughed, it sounded so warm and clear. “Thank you for helping me out, Cathy.”

“Could you excuse us for a minute?” Naomi flashed a pained smile as she set Cathy aside away from Halle, into the women’s bathroom.

“You lied to me!” Naomi whispered in anger.

“I’m sorry, okay? I met Halle in a case, and she told me that it was hard getting dates when you are a lesbian and one thing led to another and we started talking about you.”

“What. Did. You. Tell. Her?”

Cathy sighed in defeat. “That you were single and that you were totally a lesbian, too.”

“What?” Naomi was flabbergasted. “When have I ever given the impression that I was into women?”

“I mean,” Cathy waved her hands to Naomi’s sides as if her mere presence was the logical explanation. “You love to wear leather, I have never seen you in a skirt, and you ride the sturdiest motorcycle I have ever seen. Can you blame me?”

“What is wrong with you?” Naomi snapped. “I am appalled that you would do something like this. You made me believe I was meeting a guy named Hal … Oh, my God, Halle, Hal … You mispronounced the name on purpose because you knew deep down that I was never going to be okay with this.”

“I did this because I thought you knew that you were a lesbian all along and I was trying to keep it undercover for your sake!” And now Cathy was crying with tears rolling down her face. “You have to realize that I did not do this with bad intentions, I care about you, you are my best friend, I was trying to help.”

Naomi merely shook her head and sneered. “Don’t ever speak to me ever again.” And with that, she stormed from the bathroom.

“Wait, please!” Cathy collapsed on the marble floor and continued crying on her knees.

Crying was useless and a waste of time, she needed to get over herself. Naomi washed her face and wiped water with a towel, taking a deep breath to take some control back to her senses. She was going to pretend that the issue was the stained blouse and move on.

Fortunately for her, the focus was on that stupid sports game, and she was able to sneak to the bedroom and change her blouse into a regular long-sleeved, black turtleneck. She breathed out a sigh of relief. There, it was as if nothing happened.

She was not going to let this train wreck ruin her chance to have a good time, but she needed some time alone. The balcony was impressive, and it gave her the space necessary to come back to the party when she was ready. She looked ahead to the horizon and thought back to what Cathy said. Could there be some truth to her words? Sure, she did struggle getting dates with men, but surely that had nothing to do with her being into women, right? Her mind dwelled on Halle’s face and she groaned. Poor Halle, she was involved in this mess whether she liked it or not and she did not know to properly apologize to her. “I’m sorry my friend told you I was a lesbian?” Yes, that would go over well.

“If I didn’t know any better, it seems that I was not who you expected.” A familiar voice rang in Naomi’s ears.

She turned around and released a pained sigh. There she was, standing tall, unfazed that there was drama in the first place because of her. She was so put together; Naomi was almost jealous that Halle had better control of her emotions than she had.

Those CIA agents must be operating on a league like no other.

Naomi cleared her throat. “Oh, no, that’s the problem, you were described perfectly.” With an excluding factor, that is.

“Listen, I understand that blind dates can be weird, but I was willing to take a chance because it’s not every day that I get to know someone who is in the same line of work who is also into women.” Halle shrugged. “Does that make sense?”

Oh, how was she going to break it to her that she was probably not a lesbian? And yet, those words never exited from her mouth.

“It does make sense,” Naomi nodded her head, smiling. “I’m sorry about before, you are right, blind dates are weird. It could have been way worse.”

Halle chuckled. “What, like dating a serial killer?”

Naomi burst in laughter. “Oh, God, can you imagine? What are the chances of that happening in real life?”

“Believe it or not, it is way more common than you think. Thankfully, both of us are safe.”

She had to admit, Halle was funny. At least she could check off “sense of humor” off her list.

Huh. Hm.

“Just out of curiosity,” Naomi said breezily. “Did Cathy tell you anything interesting about me?”

“You mean like the ‘Milk Slipping Accident’? Yes, if that is true, you are hilarious.”

It was not surprising Cathy told her that story, she was expecting nothing less.

“It would be better if you heard my version of the story, I was the main instigator, after all.” She beckoned Halle to stand beside her. “Come on, I bet Cathy left off some important details.”

~

Whatever was going on inside did not matter when the woman in front of you also shared interesting stories of her own. One thing that Naomi learned from this fiasco was that perhaps the reason why dating men never worked out for her was because the spark was simply not there. With Halle, however, once the awkwardness went away, it just made sense. A part of her was still struggling with this newfound source of self-discovery, but once she allowed to just let herself be, it was comforting. She already admitted that she never dated another woman before today (which made Halle laugh, oddly enough), perhaps Halle would make this journey easier for her with no judgment.

“Sorry to interrupt you, but I’m just noticing that the sun is about to finally set.” Halle remarked.

“Do you like sunsets?”

“I think they can be romantic with the right person. Other than that, they are just nice.”

“Have you done this before?”

“Watched the sunset with someone else? Not romantically, no, but I always wanted to.”

“Well,” Naomi offered her hand. “There is always a first time for everything.”

~

Fast forwarding to the once evaporated memory from Naomi’s mind, after a tentative silence from both women, Naomi and Halle shared a kiss, the first of many that were set to come after Naomi insisted to at least see each other one more time. Unbeknownst to her, Cathy caught them in that embrace and never spoke one word to Naomi about it to avoid confrontation.

The following week, Halle organized a picnic date near a hill to enjoy the serenity of the lack of crowds. Naomi enjoyed herself on the mat despite the cold weather. She did not mind because she could just ask Halle to give her a jacket.

The less they talked about their eventual separation to get back to their normal, working lives, the better. If there was one thing Naomi learned from this experience is to just allow herself to be at peace with the present.

“Naomi?” Raye knocked on the door, the interruption of her thoughts never stopping her peace.

It seemed that Naomi was staring at the wall all this time. “Yes?”

He opened the door and sheepishly peered from the view. “I think it’s time.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“I kicked out the rowdy people out of here, we shouldn’t encounter any more disasters.”

Naomi chuckled, embracing Raye’s neck. “They should have been kicked out way earlier, but I forgive you.”

“Oh, you forgive me?” Raye mused out loud. “You are right, I should have listened to you all along.”

She gave him a firm kiss. “At least you are learning.”

~

A loud clink could be echoed across the living room, striking attention from every angle.

“Thank you all so much for coming,” Raye began. “I know my parties are bound to be entertaining, and for good reason, but we have an announcement to make, and after this, we can properly celebrate.”

Naomi raised her right hand, allowing the sparkle of the diamond ring to bling bright. “We are engaged!”

Shoko was the first to voice her excitement and soon everyone else follow with cheers and claps.

Raye squeezed her from the side and beamed with pride to finally give up this announcement. Naomi felt celebratory for a moment, but her smile faded slowly as her mind decided to ignore the noise until it turned into a blur. She somehow felt … empty.

~

“Look, Halle, the sun is setting,” Naomi pointed at the sky.

“Crap, we have to go back,” Halle began to stand up from the mat.

“Are you kidding? I have never seen a sunset from a hill, let’s not end the fun just yet.”

“Well, if that’s what you want, I suppose we can stay longer.” Halle went back to the mat and embraced Naomi from behind, allowing her to settle against her.

Even when the sun set into dusk, none of them were willing to leave each other’s arms.

[summahsunlight]

Perhaps It’s Fate, Part 14

Rating: T, to be safe

Word Count: 1614

Summary: After joining the Resistance as a mechanic, you were happy to keep to yourself, until a little orange and white bb unit and his master wander into your workshop one day.

Pairings: Poe Dameron/Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluffy goodness when BB-8 is finally reunited with his “parents”

Taglist:@ms-dont-care​, @starless-eyes-remain​, @elmoakepoke, @marvelobsessiononastick​, @kiaralein​, @softly-sad​, @totelpoedameron, @ordinarymom1​, @sevvysaurus​, @spider-starry​, @liadamerondjarin​

Part 14 is here! Sorry it’s taken so long, I’ve been busy working on the prompt requests, but I didn’t forget about this series.  If you want to be added to the taglist you can send me an ask, message me, or comment here.  As always comments, likes and reblogs are highly loved and appreciated❤️

When you were five your mother had told you about the horrors and the power of the Death Star--how the Empire had used it to incite fear throughout the galaxy.  Never in your life time did you think you’d see another weapon of mass destruction on it’s scale.

Hosnian Prime was gone.  Obliterated in a matter of seconds by the First Order. You had been in central command at the time, looking for Poe to go to lunch when the news passed through the comms.  

Everything grew eerily quiet, some were crying.  It was Leia that broke the painful silence. “We have work to do.”

Suddenly the room was filled with activity again.  Poe made eye contact with you before he wove his way through the consoles towards you. Gently he grabbed your upper arm and led you out of command.  It was then you were aware that he was wearing his flight suit--meaning he had been cleared to fly that morning by the med bay. 

“Threepio’s spy network found BeeBee,” Poe said, tightly. 

“Where?” you asked, feeling hope swell inside of you.

“Takadona.  Black Squadron is about to launch to go retrieve him.”

“Then you better hurry--they’re gonna need you Black Leader.”

Poe smiled at you and gave you a soft kiss. “I’ll come back to you.”

You swept his curls back from his forehead and returned his smile. “I know.” Pulling on his flight suit, you pressed your mouth to his, making sure that the kiss lingered a little longer than was probably acceptable in public.  When you pulled away, you sighed, “I’ll be here waiting for you.”

His thumb caressed your cheek before he let go of you and rushed to the surface, rushed to jump into his x-wing and fly off to retrieve BB-8.  You worked up the courage to head back into command, to be there listening into the comms.  It gave you some comfort hearing Poe’s voice over the radio, as he ordered the fighters to fly low along the water--the First Order wouldn’t be able to detect them until they were almost on top of them.

Panic began to bubble up inside of you as the memories of home rushed to the surface, memories of the pain when you thought Poe was gone--your heartbeat was so loud in your ears that you could not make out any words in the command center. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to drown out the memories and focus on Poe’s voice as he reported that the First Order was retreating, that it was safe for the General’s ship to land.  They had won.   But you still couldn’t breathe, not until Poe was back on base, not until you saw with your very own eyes that he was safe and that he had indeed come back to you. 

Feeling like the air was much too thick in command, your eyes flew open and you rushed to the surface. He’s fine. You heard him over the radio, they’re coming back to base. He’s fine, he’s fine, he’s fine! 

Tears gathered in your eyes even as you noticed the ships appearing in the pristine blue skies--you wouldn’t believe Poe was alright until you saw Black One touch down, until you saw him emerge from that cockpit... 

...and then you saw him, sliding down the ladder near his fighter and you could breathe again. 

Poe pulled his helmet off and handed it to his technician. He spotted you across the tarmac and smiled, sadly.  You rushed across the tarmac towards him, falling into his comforting embrace.  You would have stayed there forever, if it weren't for the friendly, wild beeps that pulled Poe and you apart.  

“BeeBee-Ate! My buddy!” Poe exclaimed, dropping to his knee. 

You sat down next to the droid, rubbing his side while he excitedly told Poe about his adventures--you were just happy that BB-8 was home. If the First Order had gotten their hands on the little droid he would have been dismantled. 

Poe listened intently to his companion, and then looked up. “Finn helped you? Where is he?”  A huge smile spread across the pilot’s face as he sprung to his feet, sprinting across the tarmac.

Confused, you peered through the crowds of pilots and mechanics and watched as Poe embraced another man--who you did notice was wearing his leather jacket.  Curiously, you got to your feet and moved through the crowds, along with BB-8 towards the two men. 

“Hey--that’s my jacket,” Poe sighed, realizing that Finn had it on.

“Oh!” Finn started to take it off but Poe stopped him.

“Keep it--it suits you.”

“Poe, I need your help.”

BB-8 began speaking about a girl that had helped him on Jakku--how the First Order had taken her prisoner on Takadona and he was worried about her.

Poe nodded, swallowing nervously at his he thought about his own time in captivity. “Why do you think they took just her?”

Finn shrugged. “I don’t know--maybe they thought Rey had the map.”

Anxiously, you shifted on your feet, causing the gravel underneath your boots to crunch.  Both men were suddenly alerted to your presence, and Poe smiled at you, reaching for you hand. “Y/N, this is Finn--this is the man I told you about that helped me escape the Star Destroyer.”

There was a look of familiarity that passed between Finn’s deep brown eyes as he looked at your.  Feeling shy all of a sudden you adverted your gaze, and when you felt Poe give your hand an encouraging squeeze, you glanced back at Finn and smiled. “Thank you--for helping Poe. I know... I know it mustn’t have been easy....”

“It was the right thing to do,” Finn replied, softly. 

“I know but if they catch you...they’ll execute you.”

“I don’t care; I’d rather die than be a solider for them anymore.”

I’d rather die than be a solider for you, that had been the last thing your father had said before the First Order had executed him before your very eyes--killed by stormtroopers just like Finn.  Had Finn been there? Is that why he recognized you?  Cautiously, you stepped back, and looked at the ground. As you did so, you saw Poe’s brow furrow in concern.  “Do you want me to check over BeeBee for you?”

BB-8 chirped happily that he was alright but he wouldn’t mind his gears getting looked over by you--to make sure everything was in working order.  You smiled, fondly at the little droid, and then looked at Poe for permission to head off to your shop with this droid.

Poe nodded, still concerned for you, but let you go with BB-8.  He clapped his hand on Finn’s shoulder. “Come on,” he said, turning the younger man towards the main building of the base. “Let’s go see General Organa about getting your friend back.”

“Is everything okay?” Poe questioned you later that afternoon.

“Why are you asking?” you countered, cleaning up your shop.

Poe sat on the stool near your work table.  He’d sent BB-8 along to bring the map to Leia so the two of you could have some privacy to talk.  “You seemed a little...cold... towards Finn.  He doesn’t think you like him very much--which he found a little odd since you just met.”

You swallowed, nervously.  You knew that you wouldn’t be able to hide anything from Poe but apparently you didn’t do a good job hiding how you felt from Finn either.  “There’s nothing wrong with Finn, Poe.  He seems... he seems like a good man.”

“Sweetheart, I know you’re a little shy...”

“It’s not that, Poe.”

“Then what is it? Talk to me, Y/N--don’t shut me out.”

Dropping your tool box down onto the bench you let a few tears escape. “Finn said he would rather die than be a solider for the First Order... my father... those... those were his last words.  And Finn... he looked at me like... like he recognized me.  What if he was there, Poe? What if Finn was one of those stormtroopers that were ordered to execute my father?” 

Poe was silent for a moment, running his tongue over his lips before responding. “Do you know how the First Order trains their troops, sweetheart?” When you shook your head, he continued, “they take them as young babies and children and brainwash them to the point that they have no memory of their past life.   If they step out of line they go through this process called reconditioning--now I have no idea what that means, but it can’t mean good things. If Finn was there when your father was killed, he wasn’t acting entirely on his accord.” 

Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you took a deep breath. “Finn was taken as a baby?”

He sighed and nodded. “Yes. He has no idea who his parents are.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“I hope...I hope I didn’t hurt Finn’s feelings.”

“Nah. I’m sure if you explain everything to him, he’ll be fine.”

Moving across the tight space, you sat down in Poe’s lap.  He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing you closer to his chest.  You laid your head on his strong, sturdy form and closed your eyes.  

He ran his fingers gently along your back. “It’s gonna be alright--we’re gonna find a way to destroy that weapon, sweetheart.  They win by making us feel alone--we’re not alone.”

When he spoke with such conviction, such hope behind his words-- when he said that--you believed him.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #232: And Now... Starfox!

June, 1983

“From Titan with love... Starfox!”

oh god no

Err. Anyway.

Last time on Avengers Z, the Avengers were bad enough dudes and lady dudes to rescue the president from wooden dopplegangers. The sinister and badly dressed Plantman (not to be confused with a Mega Man boss) summoned a giant-sized man-shaped swamp thing to battle the Avengers. They were doing a decent job fighting it when Starfox crashed his spaceship into it in his rush to join the Avengers.

And now, what happens after that.

Hawkeye is a terrible patient.

So also last time, a ceiling fell on Hawkeye’s leg and it be broke. He’s apparently the kind of dude who thinks its more manly to refuse anesthetic so She-Hulk has to literally pin him down long enough for Ordinary Doctor Donald Blake to cast it up.

And wow, that cast goes all the way up!

Where did you break your leg, Clint? At the sternum?

Actually this reminds me of Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes because Hawkeye got his arm snaked and in-this-version-a-paramedic Jane Foster was asked to look at it but Hawkeye was similarly uncooperative there.

I wonder if that was an intentional reference or whether an accurate portrayal of Clint’s sparking personality just gets you there naturally.

But with the casting call done, Dr. Donald Blake makes to leave, making a point to mention how lucky that he was in town instead of in Chicago where he supposedly lives.

THUS Thor’s secret identity is secure forever.

Wasp and Captain America take Ordinary Doctor Donald Blake to the elevator to show him out but really, he just transforms back to Thor in the elevator.

Because Cap and Wasp already know his secret identity. As does Dra- oh wait, he’s dead. As does Iron Man.

In fact, after Cap mentions he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to seeing Dr. Donald Blake transform, Thor mentions very few mortals have ever seen the change.

Thor: “E’en Iron Man -- with whom I did share the secret of my dual life -- seldom watched me assume my godlike form. I believe it disturbed him.’

Wasp: “Uh-huh.”

Uh-huh is right. That’s a weird, random character beat! I wonder why it bothered Tony. Is it the god part? Transformation in general? Would it bother him to watch Bruce Banner turn into the Hulk? Or Captain Marvel/old broke version and Rick Jones chaaaaange places?

I’m intrigued. And yet there’s no further information. Hmm.

Anyway, the three founding or retroactively made a founding Avengers pass through two sets of ultra-security doors because obviously the thing in your base you most want to protect is your conference table.

Its got the cool, personalized chairs. Don’t judge.

As always, I wonder what symbols the other Avengers get.

Wasp delayed the resumption of the Avengers meeting (because it got interrupted by presidential ransom situation last issue) by a half hour because she wanted to run some things past Thor and Cap.

Wasp: “After all, we are the only core members on active duty and... well... I wanted to ask you both first... should I step down as Avengers chairwoman?”

Thor asks if she feels unduly burdened by the job but she says no, in fact it makes her feel so aliiiiiiiiiiive.

Cap: “Then stick with it, Jan! You’ve been doing a fine job! What on Earth made you even think of stepping down? Surely you don’t blame yourself for Iron Man leaving -- ?”

Surely in fact, she does do.

That weird call they got from an Iron Man quitting the team has shaken her. She probably thinks its because of Wasp dumping him. And in fairness, Tony ghosting the team happened not very long after that. But its not actually related.

Also apparently, Captain Marvel (the new cool one) was made a full active member and not an in-training to fill the vacancy Iron Man left. But now Hawkeye has gotten injured and there are no reserve members available.

Hercules is off doing him knows what. Beast is with the Defenders. Wonder Man is on the West Coast, presumably trying to make it in Hollywood. Vision and Scarlet Witch are trying to be civilians.

Wasp: “We used to have too many members around. Now we may not have enough!”

Yeah, ever since the roster shake-up that was soon followed by Hank’s No Good Very Bad Day, the Avengers have had a bit of a difficulty in keeping the team at good numbers.

Dammit, Hank!

Thor suggests, hey, we have Eros of Titan hanging around asking to be made a member. Why not... let him?

Thor: “Perhaps we should induct the brash Eros! He is swift -- and nearly as strong as an Asgardian!”

Cap: “Yes, but is he Avengers material? Does he have the proper training?”

Wasp: “Training! That’s it! We could try him out as an Avenger-in-training! It worked for Captain Marvel! She was almost totally unused to super-powers when she came to us, but she developed into a peach of an Avenger! With a little on-the-job training, I’ll bet Eros would fit in, too!”

So she calls the White House and asks if the president is back from his kidnapping yet. She has networking strings to pull.

And this honestly brightens her right up. Being group leader really does make her feel so aliiiiiiiiiiive. That and being able to call in favors from the government.

Twenty-six minutes of calling in favors later, Wasp reconvenes the meeting, this time with special guest Eros.

She asks why he wants to be an Avenger.

Eros: “Why not?”

This gives Hawkeye an anger and he bangs the table and also accidentally bangs his broken leg.

Eros decides to expand on his answer and says that he’s a lover of adventure and what better way to seek it than as an Avenger? He’s already aided them in the past so they already know of him.

Thor: “Aye! Against the threat of your mad brother, Thanos!”

Eros: “Too true. But I believe your brother Loki has also given the Avengers trouble hasn’t he?”

Wasp has to interrupt and tell the two to keep family matters out of the conversation. She makes a better moderator than some.

Eros: “You are quite right, Wasp! I hold no one -- god or man -- responsible for the actions of relatives! I seek but your fellowship! Indeed, I can think of no assemblage so appealing... so charming... anywhere in the cosmos!”

Wasp, Captain Marvel, and She-Hulk seem to approve of this answer.

... WAIT ARE YOU USING YOUR CHARM POWERS ON THEM? EROOOOOOOOOOOOOS!!!

Anyway, since Hawkeye is out of action-

Hawkeye: “What do you mean, ‘out of action’? Who says I am?”

Cap(tain America) says he is and tells him he can’t be expected to charge into action with his leg in a cast. Which Hawkeye sadly agrees.

Anyway, since Hawkeye is out of action, Wasp decides that the Avengers can accomodate Eros as an Avenger-in-training. But the government did have one condition for letting his alien man become an Avenger.

He needs a codename.

Wasp: “Frankly, the president was hesitant to approve of anyone named Eros. He would rather you were called something less provocative in public.”

Hey, fuck you, Reagan.

But Wasp has an idea.

Wasp: “You’re a pretty foxy guy... and you’ve been out among the stars... how about ‘Starfox!’”

Good god, Wasp. Did you really just name this man Spacehunk? You’ve gone mad with power.

Also, I jumped the gun last post. I didn’t realize that Wasp comes up with his codename here so I was using Starfox to refer to him already.

Also also, he has a fox emblem on his shirt. Why does he do that if he wasn’t Starfox yet? What does the fox represent in Titanian culture??

Eros: “Starfox? I don’t know... Is this necessary?”

Captain America: “Well, it could make things easier, and you’d still be Eros to your friends. After all, my real name isn’t Captain America!”

Eros: “It isn’t?”

Hah.

I adore that last exchange.

Imagine the incredulity in the tone. ‘I thought that Earth names were Just Like That.’

Anyway, Eros accepts the name Spacehunk Starfox and the position of in-training so Wasp decides to get him started right away.

Remember that thing with the president and the wood men? Happened like an hour ago?

Well, there’s a Navy task force tracking the submarine which was spotted escaping from the scene and they’ve requested Avengers help. But, eh, why send the whole team?

So Wasp sends Thor, Captain Marvel, and Starfox-in-training.

And in fairness! That’s a trio that can handle a whole heck of a lot with their respective powers!

So off they go.

Starfox: “Duty and glory, Thor! Songs shall be written about this day -- even if I must write them myself!”

You know. That’s actually a very good attitude to have. Eros will be the fanfiction he wants to see in the world.

With that issue handled, Cap(tain America) and Wasp head off to take care of some other business.

Leaving She-Hulk and Hawkeye with only each other as company.

Hah.

On their way to the mission, Captain Marvel zooms all around, practicing her cornering in flight. As a new superhero... like its been under a month, I think? Captain Marvel still thinks flying is the neatest thing.

And she’s right!

But she’s also discovered a new ability. Since her energy form is made of energy and she has control over energy. Instead of flying around as a vaguely her shaped glowing blur, she can concentrate to create a light image of herself, why not!

She has made herself harder to draw but easier to portray!

Thor: “Your radiance rivals that of the golden apples of immortality!”

Captain Marvel: “I’ll have to take your word for that!”

Hah.

She zooms over to where Starfox is flying. Captain Marvel has been eyeing him throughout the book, which Wasp has been assuming was because he’s a space hunk.

But maybe she just wanted to learn more about Captain Mar-Vell because that’s what she asks Starfox about.

Starfox: “He was a gentle warrior... a noble soul. He was a true hero... Worthy of rank and name!”

I guess the description or the sadness Starfox still has at Mar-Vell’s death makes Monica feel like shit, like maybe she isn’t worthy, so she zooms ahead to let the navy know the Avengers are on their way.

Starfox: “Have I offended her?”

Thor: “Eros, I begin to wonder if your reputation with the ladies is truly deserved.”

Hah.

But also: If you have magical fuck-me powers you don’t need to actually be charming, I guess? Dammit, Starfox!

Captain Marvel arrives on the deck of the navy task force flagship as a bolt of lighting (SHAZAM!), alarming the navy in two ways.

First, lightning. Its just so loud! But second, wait the Avengers only sent one person?

Captain Marvel goes nah I got Thor and Spacehunk but they’re slowpokes. Not moving the speed of light. Imagine.

Admiring Admiral: I don’t know who the redhead is, but I’d sail into Hades itself with Thor in my crew!

Its fun the insight we get into how respected and beloved Thor is. I don’t think that’s the case anymore with modern Thor. The marvel citenzry has just become jaded to the cool hammer man.

The admiral explains the situation. That they’re chasing the submarine seen in the area of the presidential ransom attempt. But its hiding in an undersea canyon that navy frogmen kero kero can’t reach and that its somehow been deflecting depth charges.

The admiral was going to wait for navy subs to arrive but hey, if the Avengers want to try, this is their book.

Meanwhile, in aforementioned sinister submarine, the horticultural horror... Plantman! Nah, just kidding. He’s a goofus and I will point and laugh.

His cool sub lets him pre-explode the depth charges before they reach his sub but even he doesn’t want to tangle with trident-class submarines so he wants to skedaddle. And if the navy is blocking his way, the navy gotta pay.

He activates his PLANT RAY which is a real thing, look it up, and energizes the kelp in the undersea canyon.

The kelp reaches up like a kraken, a kelpken, and starts trying to pull the navy ships under.

Thor: “‘Tis an attack by yet another form of plant! Our unknown foe has struck again! Stand you back... the son of Odin shall end this threat!”

And then Thor jumps into the ocean, leading a confused Starfox to ask whether Thor needs to breath.

Captain Marvel helpfully informs him and the audience that Thor can hold his breath for hours.

Thanks, Monica!

And then some kelp yanks Starfox and then Captain Marvel off the ship.

Meanwhile, a very expensive Manhattan apartment occupied by a grumpy Tony Stark.

Tony Stark: “Why waste good money getting a T.V. remote control fixed, when I can do it myself faster an’ better? Hah! When I’m done with it, it’ll do more’n change channels... it’ll walk the blasted dog!”

... Tony, how though?

And do you have a dog?

What is going on in your mind?

His remote repair reverie is interrupted by a binging and a bonging on his chamber door. Only this and nothing more.

He grouses about the interruption but HEY ITS HIS FAVORITE PEOPLE! Its Wasp and Captain America!

They’ve been stalking him, a little.

The pressing matters they had to attend to was running down a list of homes owned by Tony and searching them one by one to find him.

He’s happy to see them though and offers them some morning whiskey. Or bourbon. Or perhaps chocolate soda.

Look, I googled eyeopener and its booze you drink in the morning to wake up although I’m pretty sure its afternoon now and if you need to drink booze to wake up, you might want to consider limiting your intake actually. Especially for Tony Stark who had an entire story arc about alcoholism. Dammit Tony!

Wasp: “Eye-opener?! Tony Stark, where’s your mind? We’ve been worried sick about you! No one’s been able to find you for days on end -- you haven’t answered Avengers emergency calls -- and when you did call this morning it was to resign!”

Tony Stark: “Now jus’ hold yer horses! Maybe I have been outta touch... but I’ve had my own ‘mergencies to handle! An’ I didn’t call you this morning! I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”

Iron Man: “He’s right! I’m the one who made that call!”

Imagine being someone who reads Avengers and not Iron Man. How blown would your mind be seeing Iron Man fly into a room Tony Stark is already in?

Somewhat, right? Somewhat.

Imagine being Captain America and Wasp and seeing Iron Man fly into a room where Tony Stark is when you know for sure that Iron Man and Tony Stark are the same guy.

Cap demands to know whats going on and who is in Tony’s armor.

Tony Stark: “Jus’ who he appears to be... Iron Man, my faithful armored companion and bodyguard... jus’ like it says in the Stark International press releases! Ya see, boys an’ girls, ol’ Uncle Tony has decided to quit the hero biz while he’s still ahead of the game! No more playin’ Iron Man for me! Nosirrebob! Time to let a younger man wear the boilerplate!”

Oh.... Tony.... if this only weren’t the perpetual superhero narrative, you might be able to bow out gracefully.

And its not like this is gracefully anyway. As indicated by the charmingly tousled look, the slurred speech and the morning drinking in the afternoon, Tony is quite drunk.

Wasp asks New Iron Man to confirm and he does. He clarifies that the reason he quit the Avengers is because he doesn’t feel experienced enough yet to hold his own on the team.

And apologizes for the confusion. The Iron Man helmet has voice modifying circuits so New Iron Man (secretly James Rhodes) sounded just like Old Iron Man (aka Tony Stark). He didn’t realize that the Avengers knew Tony’s secret so didn’t realize he’d just be creating an intriguing mystery prompting readers to check out the Iron Man book slash confuse the Avengers.

Tony Stark: “Yeah... I forgot to tell ya that Cap an’ the Wasp were in on the ol’ secret. Thor, too! Oh, well... no harm done!”

Then he drinks some more booze alcohol. Cap asks him doesn’t he think he’s had enough? And Tony is like hey no I don’t and don’t butt into my life kthx.

Wasp: “We don’t want to pry, Tony! We just don’t want to see you throw your life away... like Hank did.”

Tony Stark: “I am not Hank Pym, lady! I’m nothin’ like your ex-hubby! I don’t need your help -- an’ you don’t need mine! The Stark Foundation will pay the Avengers’ bills with or without me! So, if you’ll kindly get out of my life -- !”

Oof. Why does everyone Wasp dates turn out to be a jerk?

I assume she was just leaning into it the time she dated Havok. But otherwise, oof.

They really have no choice but to leave Tony to make his own bad decisions. At least he was responsible enough to get someone else in the Iron Man armor?

Geez though. Geez.

Hate seeing you like this, Tones.

Meanwhile, back in the Atlantic Ocean... Captain Marvel fairly casually assesses the situation of being dragged into the water.

Captain Marvel: “Never saw any kelp like this before! It grips tighter than an octopus, and it feels as tough as steel! I could just turn to some form of energy and slip out of it, but then it could grab some poor sailor!”

So instead she explodes, which she can do, shredding the kelp holding her.

Then off she goes to find how Starfox is faring.

He’s faring okay. Just casually punching some kelp like it ain’t no thing.

But since teamwork does make the dream work, she blasts the kelp for him. Starfox thanks her though also says that he could’ve kelped himself.

They discuss how they can hear each other perfectly well underwater thanks to SCIENCE! The science of water conducting sound. I find it a bit dubious but whatever. Not as dubious as the next bit.

Captain Marvel asks how Starfox is breathing underwater.

Starfox: “A thin shell of air clung to me as I was pulled under... due to the gravitic potential of my body, I suppose! It all relates to my flying abilities. I was surprised myself! This is the first time I’ve ever taken an ocean plunge!”

Fun way to discover that, huh!

Also, heck, how long does a thin shell of air last underwater? How shallowly do you breathe, man!?

-google- Huh, Wikipedia has this description of his powers using almost the exact words (although not the word order) from this scene. I feel that it does not come up much so this is the primary source.

It also says that he doesn’t need to breathe as much as a normal hooman. So that’s answered.

The two newest Avengers find Thor already has things well in hand freeing the propeller without need for any further kelp.

So all three Avengers surface (and Thor retrieves his helmet, which in a nice bit fell off when he dove into the water and just floated on the surface).

Thanks to ex-boat cop Monica Rambeau knowing navy semaphore, she recognizes the signal from the navy vessel that the enemy sub is making a run for it.

And since none of these three Avengers have trouble fighting underwater, Starfox suggests they give chase.

Plantman: “NO! Not the Avengers! Not again!”

Yes, again. Yes, always.

He shoots some anti-personnel torpedoes, hoping they’re enough to stop the Avengers.

“They’re not.”

Hah. I love when captions get sassy.

The Avengers soon are busting into the sub, breaking through bulkheads and coming for Plantman.

Plantman realizes that they’ll have him trapped in the control cabin in seconds. So he pulls the last resort lever that his silent partner told him to pull as a last resort.

Some manner of escape sphere forms around Plantman, launching him high into the stratosphere and capsizing the sub right on top of the Avengers.

I mean, they’re beefy. I’m sure they’ll be fine.

But no time to verify that, SCENE CHANGE.

Over on Central Park West, She-Hulk has carried Hawkeye all the way from Avengers’ Mansion to his apartment. On foot.

Dang! Mighty nice of her! Even Hawkeye points out that he could have gotten a cab.

(But do we believe that Hawkeye has money for a cab?)

After gently dumping Hawkeye on his couch, She-Hulk asks if he wants to have her stick around. She literally has nothing better to do today.

Hawkeye: “Will you get out of here and leave me alone!!”

She-Hulk huffs off in anger because this is a rude way to thank someone who helps you home.

Hawkeye even realizes that he shouldn’t have yelled “but I can’t stand to have anyone mother-hen me! Besides, I have things to do... important things!”

Yeah, Hawkeye does seem like the kind of guy who hates getting any help at all because men are self-reliant and junk. Toxic masculinityyyyyyy!

And the important things? I dunno! He calls his head of security workplace Cross Technological Enterprises and tells them to send a car for him.

That’s probably going to be a thing in another issue. God forbid it be a thing in another book. I’m not made of time. I’m still dreading West Coast Avengers where Hawkeye goes off and makes his own team. The jerk.

Okay, back to the plot.

Thor, Captain Marvel, and Starfox of course shake off a submarine imploding on their heads without much effort. Starfox is the most shaken by it. Guess the new guy isn’t used to submarine implosions lol.

Meanwhile, Plantman’s escape pod keeps escaping up, up, and away but mostly just up.

Then a prerecorded message from Plantman’s ‘silent partner’ and/or ‘mysterious benefactor’ plays.

Wizard: “Plant-Man! This is a recording. If you have been so stupid as to get yourself in a predicament where you needed to use the emergency handle, you are now hearing this message.”

“While I appreciated your aid in escaping prison, the equipment I gave you should be considered payment in full. I owe you nothing more than an explanation.”

“Thanks to my anti-gravity generators -- which you activated along with this module -- you will soon find yourself safely in orbit!”

Plantman: “In orbit!”

Wizard: “There, you will be of no further embarrassment to me or our ‘partnership’ as you so distastefully called it. You will be beyond harm... for as long as your oxygen holds out. Farewell!”

Oof. Ice cold.

Ice cold, the Wizard.

Captain Marvel phases through the pod floor to basically say the same thing.

Plantman begs her to save him from his own dumb decision making. She’s like huh look, I don’t really know about anti-gravity but I do have an idea.

Then she blows a hole in the side of the pod.

And the pressure difference blasts Plantman out of the pod, right through Captain Marvel who has turned into intangible energy.

Captain Marvel: “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

HAH!

That was mean, Monica. I love it.

But as Plantman hurtles screaming toward the ground, Thor catches him and tells him to stop screaming beside.

Thor: “Cease your cowardly whining! The Avengers do not wantonly kill their foes... not even such as you!”

These days though... well... probably still not wantonly? Depending on how you define it? Maybe during War of Realms though. The kid gloves came off then.

Starfox is loving this by the way. The whole thing that just happened.

Starfox: “What grand sport! Yes, I think I’m going to enjoy being an Avenger!”

‘Ha ha we made that guy think he was going to die!’

Also, Plantman’s outfit looked green and purple in the sub. I guess it was the lighting because its just jolly green now. But its still a terrible outfit.

Meanwhile, back at Avengers’ mansion, Wasp is back from Tony Stark locating duty! She-Hulk is back from being angry at Hawkeye duty!

She-Hulk mentions that she took Hawkeye to his apartment and for a loudmouth, he has a really nice apartment.

She-Hulk: “I wish I could find a nice apartment, but I’m still getting lost in this town. I don’t know where to begin looking.”

Wasp: “Well, if you’re so set on getting a place of your own, why don’t I give you a hand?”

Wasp is going to fulfill her delayed promise to take She-Hulk apartment hunting! And hey, why not focus her efforts on a friend that will let her help?

So Wasp changes into street clothes (or since we see her shrink later, its more that she changed her Wasp outfit and put clothes over it, which is almost like getting dressed in street clothes) and takes Jen out on the town.

Apparently, the Daily Bugle has the largest section on rentals and real estate of any New York paper. I guess they need something aside from diatribes about Spider-Man to attract subscribers.

Ben Urich’s award winning investigative journalism can’t pay all the bills.

Because this is the same New York which frustrated Tigra, some idiot immediately starts hitting on She-Hulk at the newsstand.

Some idiot: “‘Ey, beeg mama! I love that green body paint! You need any help removing it? Huh?”

She-Hulk: “Stuff it, creep! Or better yet -- stuff you!”

And she puts the garbage man in the garbage can. Where he belongs. While Wasp literally looks the other way.

She-Hulk: “Sorry, Jan, I just don’t care for men with fresh mouths. This sort of thing would never happen in California.”

Wasp: “Oh, fer shure...”

That sounds like the polite way of saying ‘Doubt.’ Surely there are sexist jerks everywhere?

Sadly for the She-Hulk Apartment Hunt, her expectations are also a little LA centric. You’re just not going to find an affordable condo with a hot-tub in New York.

Wasp asks what She-Hulk has against the free rent at Avengers Mansion with its built-in sauna that they’ve apparently always had but never mentioned.

Avengers Mansion is real nice!

She-Hulk says she can’t get behind the idea of living where she works but as someone who works from home its actually highly recommended! Although, She-Hulk’s situation is more ‘firemen live in the firehouse’ so it lacks the ‘don’t have to wear pants to work’ aspect.

Then the apartment hunt is interrupted by an incoming crossover slash a stampede.

She-Hulk grabs a random panicking passerby out of the crowd and asks whats going on but he can’t give a good answer.

She-Hulk: “Hot dog! I was hoping something would happen to break up the monotony. So far, this afternoon has been a big, dull...” -THUD-

First, I love She-Hulk’s enthusiasm for punching.

Also, hey, who put thin air in She-Hulk’s way!

There’s some kind of invisible barrier right across the sidewalk.

She-Hulk instantly decides that the thing to do is to TEAR INTO THE PAVEMENT TO SEE HOW DEEP IT GOES.

Instead of, y’know, feeling to see how wide it stretches.

Wasp tries blasting thin air too but to no avail.

Despite She-Hulk reminding everyone that “at close range, your sting can knock down a wall!”

And when she really tries, a whole house.

She-Hulk: “Wasp... This is impossible! We’re Avengers! Nothing can stop us!”

Wasp: “She-Hulk... I’ve the strangest feeling it just did.”

And apparently: this is to be continued in THE ANNIHILATION GAMBIT! Which is a crossover with Fantastic Four!

Which means I actually need to pop over to an Avengers Annual first because despite running into the invisible wall (Sue, is that you?) the Avengers are doing stuff on the Moon before getting involved.

I dunno. I’ll see when I get to it.

And you will too! Provided you follow @essential-avengers​! Also maybe like and reblog? Who can say.

[kerikaaria]

If I Never Met You: Chapter 9

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) Slight fluff

WC: 2.8k

Warnings: Someone’s a bit rude, but it’s not bad

Series Masterlist

Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 

Sejin oppa and I walked into the meeting room where we were meeting the team helping with pre-debut promotion ideas. Sejin gestured for me to introduce myself.

“Hello,” I greeted, bowing. “I’m (L/n) (Y/n), a manager-in-training. Nice to meet you.”

A few people greeted back with hellos, but I am pretty sure I heard someone whisper, “Yeah, we know who you are,” under their breath.

Sejin oppa placed a hand on my back, seeming to notice me tense up and we sat down while the meeting started. The team started discussing some ideas they had thought of, but none seemed to sound like they’d work, either to Sejin oppa or to the woman who seemed to be the head of their team, who I heard being called Ms. Lee.

I wanted to wait until everyone had said their piece, not wanting to just offer something they already came up with. But also because I was still feeling really nervous. When it seemed like there were no more ideas coming from others, Sejin oppa gently nudged me with his elbow.

I gathered all my courage before saying, “If I may, I have an idea.”

All their eyes focused on me, which definitely did not help my case of nerves. “Of course, go ahead,” Ms. Lee said with a smile.

“Well,” I started. “I feel like social media is really crucial. A large amount of people use it, especially teenagers and young adults. Primarily Twitter and YouTube seem to be very useful platforms that could potentially help.”

As I paused to take in a steadying breath, I heard one of the staff mutter, “Of course the college student would think of social media first.”

I watched Ms. Lee give a warning look to the staff, who wasn’t even looking at me. I was definitely shaken up by the comment. I didn’t know how many of these people thought poorly of me for my lack of experience, so my words may have been falling on deaf ears.

Sejin placed a hand on my shoulder for support while I gathered myself and continued. “So, what if the boys upload personal logs on YouTube, and start a Twitter account for the group so they can start posting things about themselves and interacting? I think fan interaction and personability are things very appealing to people, so if we give them whatever outlets we can to do that early that could help build a good base. Not just for early promotions to try to get their names out there, but also for starting a positive image and solid, supportive fanbase.”

As I finished my explanation, I looked over to Sejin oppa who gave me a smile. I glanced around the table, where most eyes were still on me.

Ms. Lee seemed to be contemplating my suggestion. “We’d have to work out the details to do that, but to be honest that’s the best idea I’ve heard today. Thank you for offering your suggestion, (Y/n)-shi.”

I bowed my head and thanked her for the compliment, not ignorant of the quiet scoff coming from, presumably, the staff who had the comment earlier.

“I’m not guaranteeing that it will pass,” she continued, “but we will try to work out the details on it and if we can work out a good plan, I’ll present it to the president. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to tell him whose idea it was.”

“Sounds good, Ms. Lee,” Sejin said. ��Is there anything else we need to discuss?”

“Unless someone has any other ideas, I think we’re done here,” she responded. She waited to see if anyone spoke up but when there were no responses, she dismissed everyone.

I walked with Sejin back to his office, and he closed the door behind us. He immediately turned to me and smiled brightly. “(Y/n), you did great. It is kind of surprising none of them thought of using social media for promotion. They probably were thinking it wasn’t good enough compared to other outlets. But with limited money and resources, it’s probably one of the best things we have to work with. And you’re right, being relatable and interacting with fans are really crucial to creating a solid fanbase.”

I smiled shyly. “Thank you, oppa.”

“But not just that,” he continued. “Your idea aside, you did really well. Even though that one woman was being rude, you didn’t let it stop you and you kept going. That’s important, especially for you.” He walked over to his desk. “You’ve probably already learned that a lot of people judge based on appearance and qualifications you can put on a piece of paper.”

Yeah, I definitely have. Not just from hearing whispers around the company and that staff from the meeting today. But even at school, no one wanted to even attempt to approach me, scared that I couldn’t communicate well with them because I’m obviously different. And that would probably be the first thing people judged me on in general.

“I have no doubt in your abilities and know you can do well,” he continued. “But if you want to keep this job right now, you’re going to have to prove yourself to others as well. So ignore what others like that woman say. You just need to have confidence in yourself and push past them. Got it?”

I was taken aback by the sudden speech from him, but really touched that he cared that much. I nodded, letting him know I understood.

“Good.”

Two days later, Seokjin walked into the dance studio when he arrived at the company, where their group dance lesson was due to start in about 15 minutes. On Wednesdays, Jin and (Y/n) always came to the company together so when he walked into the room alone the rest of the group gave him curious looks.

“Hyung, where’s noona?” Namjoon asked. “She always comes in with you.”

“As soon as she got here, Sejin hyung told her to follow him to Bang PD-nim’s office,” Seokjin replied.

“Oh my god,” Hoseok gasped.

“Is it today?” Yoongi asked, his eyes wide.

“I don’t know, but maybe,” Jin replied.

They all shared looks among themselves, silently agreeing on something they needn’t say out loud before rushing out of the room together.

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. This is probably it. The fateful day where I find out if I’m staying or not. Holy crap, I’m not ready for this. Not that I ever would be, but still. There’s no way the butterflies in my stomach are going to stop dancing.

Bang PD-nim’s secretary told us we were allowed to enter his office, holding the door open for us. I walked in, even more nervous than the first time I walked in here for my first interview. “Hello, Bang PD-nim,” I said, dipping into a deep bow and trying to conjure up a smile.

He smiled back at me. “Hello (Y/n). Always a pleasure to see you.”

“Likewise,” I responded nervously as I sat down. I was very thankful Sejin oppa was in the room with us.

“As we established when I hired you, we’d be meeting this month to discuss if we’ll continue your employment or not,” Bang PD-nim said.

Oh my gosh, it is. This is it. Okay, calm down (Y/n). It’s alright, we can do this. I nodded.

“Tell me your thoughts on the job. How are you liking it?” He paused for a second. “And I don’t mean, ‘how are you liking BTS.’ I’m talking about the job itself.”

I took in a deep breath. “I have been enjoying it so far. Of course, I haven’t been able to get much field work done yet, but Sejin oppa has taught me a lot and it’s definitely something I’m interested in continuing.”

“So, you’re saying you would like to continue your employment with us?”

“Yes, sir. If you would permit me to, of course.”

“Well, you are right that you haven’t gotten to really do work outside of company affairs. And while I was hoping you’d be able to get some field work under your belt while you were here, I can’t really fault you for that.” He paused, looking over a paper that sat on his desk. “One thing really caught my eye, though. Earlier today, I spoke with Ms. Lee who told me you were the only one to have a good idea during the meeting on Monday regarding pre-debut promotional activities.”

I nodded in acknowledgement.

“I have to admit, that is a very smart idea and I will be wanting to put this into action. I was already planning on having them use a website called SoundCloud to upload their own personal music, but utilizing Twitter and YouTube early as well will really add to the potential of exposure and add a personal touch into being able to interact with fans and show their personalities. So great job on that suggestion.”

“Thank you very much, sir.” I bowed my head.

“Granted, that’s not necessarily a part of your official job as a manager. But it does show that you put thought and effort into helping BTS. And Sejin has told me how hard you’ve been working with him and how promising he believes you to be. To be honest, I don’t see anything that would lead me to believe official employment isn’t an option for you.”

I bit my lip to keep myself from smiling. Gosh, I wished these butterflies would really settle down already.

“Also, I’ve been watching you myself.”

My eyes widened at the statement. I legitimately had no idea that he personally kept tabs on me.

“I’ve watched how you manage the boys, and it seems that what I hoped from you has indeed happened.”

I blinked. “May I ask what that is?”

“That you can be both a responsible manager who is respected and listened to, but also a reliable friend and confidant to the boys.” He turned his attention to Sejin oppa. “Not that it’s not a similar case with Sejin for them, because it is. But I knew they needed another manager to always be with them, and I hoped I could find another person who would fit both of those roles.” His gaze turned back to me. “Which is why you were so appealing to me from your application and interview.

“You’re in their age group so I figured getting along wouldn’t be a difficult task. But also, the fact that you were able to learn Korean so fluently within just 3 years of independent study and not even an official class, on top of the grades you maintained while doing that showed hard work and dedication. Your leap to come to South Korea on your own at such a young age showed independence and a need for discovery. You seemed hungry for experience and knowledge. You also appeared to be a very open-minded girl who would be able to uphold the ideas and ways of thinking that, interestingly enough, are similar to BTS’ image and that I very much agree with. That’s what made you so interesting to me. And I’d be lying if I said you didn’t hold up to my expectations these last few months.”

I literally didn’t have words. I think the butterflies made their way to my throat.

“So long story short, if you want to continue this journey with us, I’d be delighted to hire you. Full time and not on a temporary contract.”

I couldn’t stop my lips parting in shock, and I thought I heard muffled voices coming from somewhere nearby, but I couldn’t focus on anything at that moment. My mind went black for a few seconds, until Sejin oppa lightly nudged my arm. “That’d be amazing! Thank you so much!” I bowed my head again. Then I realized something. “Although, one thing I do need to mention is that I think I may have to remain part time at school for the next semester. I haven’t signed up for my classes yet, but I’ll be honest, I don’t think there’s a way I can afford my own apartment yet. I’ve looked into it, but it’s just not possible for me right now. I was thinking I’d have to stay part time at school so I can still live at the dorm there until I accumulated enough to find a place to stay.”

“You know, I’ve actually thought about that,” Bang PD-nim said. “And if you’re to be a manager, we need you to be able to be close to the group anyway. That way if we need you, or the boys do, for any reason you’ll be right there. While it is true that sometimes managers will live with the group they manage, I can’t quite do that. Not only is there barely enough room for the seven of them in the dorm, but you’re also a girl and they’re a bunch of boys so that wouldn’t’ be appropriate either. But, there is another room right next door that you could move into.”

“That’d be wonderful. But I’m still not sure I could afford it.”

He shook his head. “It’s paid for by the company.”

My eyes widened in shock. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Consider it my investment into your employment,” he said. “A way for me to say that I expect a lot from you, and this is my way of helping that happen.”

I couldn’t help but feel like the gesture was a double-edged sword. That it actually meant, ‘I expect you to do well, so don’t mess it up.’ But nonetheless, it was a gesture I was extremely thankful for.

“That being said, I’m not saying you need to quit school. You can stay part-time if you want and we’ll continue to work around your schedule. Although it would be tricky for you since BTS is getting rather close to their debut.”

“Oh, I was only planning on staying so I’d have a place to stay,” I confirmed. “If I can continue to work, and have a place to stay as well then I have no desire to continue going to school.”

“Alright then,” Bang PD-nim smiled. “Here’s the contract. Feel free to read through it before signing.”

I didn’t take too long to skim it before signing a contract for the second time, this time as a real, full-time employee.

Bang PD-nim held his hand out for me to shake just like the first time. I took his hand, smiling at him.

“We’re delighted to have you stay.”

“Oh, but I do have a question,” I said. “Am I still going to have to take acting and singing lessons?”

Bang PD-nim chuckled. “That was a backup. If you had any interest and were any good, I was considering signing you on as a trainee if it didn’t work out with you being a manager. So you only need to continue them if you want.”

Oh, so that’s what that was about. I laughed a bit. “Well, I think I’ll just focus on doing the best I can for BTS for now,” I responded.

“I like that answer,” Bang PD-nim smiled.

Sejin and I made our way back to the dance studio where I knew the boys were currently practicing. I slowly opened the door as to not disturb the routine they were doing.

But my efforts were futile because as soon as he saw me, one excited Kim Taehyung yelled “NOONA!” and ran towards me at full force, almost knocking me to the ground when he wrapped his arms around me.

“Oh my… What the heck is that for, Tae?” was the only thing I could manage to say from the shock of the action.

“We’re just so happy!” he exclaimed, a little too close to my ear. “We’re so happy you’re going to be staying with us!”

I gently loosened his grip on me, surprised at his words. “Wait, how do you know?”

“We may have been listening at the door,” Namjoon said, rubbing his hand on the back of his head.

“It’s not nice to eavesdrop,” I said, jokingly serious.

“We just couldn’t wait to know, noona,” Jungkook added.

“Well, as much as I would have liked to tell you the news myself, I guess it’s all the same,” I smiled. “But you really shouldn’t be wasting your teacher’s time by stopping mid-routine. Get back to practice.”

Taehyung frowned at me. “Okay, noona.” He walked back to the rest of the group.

The teacher continued their practice, while I sat on the floor watching the seven members of who would (hopefully) soon be known as BTS work hard. I found myself smiling, happy that I was going to be staying by their side for a long time.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

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[itsclydebitches]

I think one of the bigger things that bugs me about Volume 7 is that it seems like they just thought of a few plot points and then thought of the easiest, fastest way to connect all of them together without much thought into it. Like, take the "Amity Tower diverts resources from Hole In The Wall" plot point. Not only would it be OOC for James to ignore that, considering his defensive behavior, but also, the resources required to repair the wall and build the tower don't overlap. (1/2)

Which is precisely what I mean when I say that the lack of care that goes into the major plot points/world building has a massive impact on the characterization. You can’t separate the two because it’s (obviously) through the plot that we get to know these characters. It’s a series of persuasive steps: 

Step One: Decide that we want to make Ironwood the end-game villain of the volume 

Step Two: Provide one reason for his villainy, namely that he’s letting the people of Mantle go unprotected

This is where the writing stopped and where many people in the fandom stop too. The claims of “Ironwood abandoned his people long before he decided to take Atlas up into the sky” and “Of course he would shoot Oscar. How many kids do you think he’s killed by leaving the wall open?” are disconnected claims because the show failed to do the all important final step of: 

Step Three: Persuading the audience that Step Two proves Step One. Leaving the wall open is indeed a villainous action. 

What would be an example of a story failing at Step Three? If Ironwood 100% did not have the resources to fix that hole. If he made an attempt and it failed due to circumstances outside of his control. That wouldn’t be villainous. It would simply be a tragedy and Step Three has not done its job of proving that this event (can’t close the hole) equals the desired result (we want him to be a villain). What we actually got, however, was a more complicated scenario wherein the story just… didn’t give us any more information. See, Step Three is actually multiple sub-steps. The story needs to do the work of proving that Ironwood not filling in the hole is in character (which as you point out, it’s not) or otherwise do the work of explaining why his character has suddenly changed so drastically. It needs to explain to the audience how resources for a satellite are the same resources for a concrete wall. It has to explain why, if this was so important, Robyn didn’t fix it with all the resources she stole. Or, it needs to give us insight into why the wall remains unfixed: oh yeah it has been damaged multiple times in the last year and each time we patch it up the grimm tear it down again super fast. We’ve come to the realization that it’s more prudent to put our resources towards additional robots to fight off the grimm and, in the long term, completing the project that I believe will defeat Salem (which then no one corrected me on) rather than wasting those resources on a defensive maneuver that clearly isn’t working/is wasting limited materials. And if we had gotten something like that then, again, not villainous. That’s a man making smart decisions based on inaccurate information, information our main group could have corrected weeks earlier. The very generalized claim of, “Ironwood isn’t protecting his people” not only ignores the context required to understand whether he can protect his people in this particular way - Are the Amity resources the same as wall resources? If not do we even have wall resources? - but likewise ignores all the other ways he IS protecting his people. He’s got an army literally saving lives in the opening episodes. He’s got Penny out there doing the same and providing hope. He’s giving talented fighters early licenses so he can get them to help with everything from wall patrol to preschool crossing. He’s currently trying to build the machine that he thinks will save the entire world. The story failed to take all of that into account when it suddenly insisted, “He’s a bad guy who doesn’t care about Mantle.” 

By not clarifying any of the above questions the writing demands that we stop at Step Two and have faith that there’s indeed a connection. We must do the mental work to assume that fixing the wall will keep people safe, that these resources he’s using for one project are the exact kind Ironwood needs for this other project, and that other people with access to resources (like Robyn, like the Council) all had Very Good Reasons for not taking action themselves, thereby putting all the blame on him. That’s how you reach, “He’s clearly a murderer for not fixing that” out of a story that simply didn’t do the work to prove that Ironwood is a villain because of this. That this functions as proof of his villainy. And as you say, we’re seeing this a great deal in RWBY now. We’re given plot points whose justifications are treated as fact, but the only way you agree with that is by ignoring either a) how often this “fact” is contradicted by earlier episodes or b) the lack of information proving its truthfulness. Examples: We’re supposed to accept that the group has to steal an airship even though the fandom very easily thought of numerous other options, we’re supposed to accept that Ruby is strategic in lying to Ironwood even though past episodes damned that behavior in Ozpin, we’re supposed to accept that Ironwood is evil for choosing Amity over the wall even though it makes no sense why those two things are lumped together and the story’s heroes told him to prioritize the tower. That’s the issue right there: Ruby straight up tells Ironwood to keep working on Amity and only Ironwood gets heat for doing what she wants. And would have gotten more heat if he’d dared disagree. That’s the protagonist centered morality: your heroes are inherently right for doing all the things they damn others for, even when they have knowledge that doing this thing is arguably useless. At least Ironwood thinks that sacrificing some of Mantle’s safety will lead directly to Salem’s defeat. What’s Ruby’s excuse? And if the answer to that is, “She realizes that bringing the world together is still the only way to win” then you’re working under the same kinds of assumptions. The story has not done the work to prove/explain a) how banding everyone together is useful against immortality and b) why that mystery usefulness outweighs all the canonical harm we’ve seen happen when people learn about Salem. You need to both assume things that haven’t been introduced and ignore things we’ve actually seen in order to prioritize that justification. 

Despite my love of Ironwood as a character I’d be totally down with him as a villain… but RWBY needed to do the work to make him into one after six and a half seasons of him being a hero. The whole wall situation is just one small failure out of many in that regard.