#I speak for myself about this but also...maybe I do need to just find either another game (probably indie)

[icewindandboringhorror]

I've referenced before how I have a big google document to keep track of every media I've ever seen in my entire life (just for reference because I like to track everything possible lol… I am the Data Collector), but recently as I was updating it, I thought of actually evaluating them to find out random percentages (like for example, out of Total Shows Watched, what percentage did I finish vs. stop watching, what percentage did I like or dislike, etc.)...

Evaluating these things is made easier by the fact that I already place everything on each subsection of the list into 6 broad ranking categories, so I don't have to go back and guess to figure out how I feel about them or anything. The categories are: Ranking 5 - overall best* (despite some criticisms of course because I'm too much of an Analyzer to ever find anything Perfect lol) Ranking 4 - more positive than neutral, but not good enough to be 5 Ranking 3 - either the good + bad negate each other, OR it's just not memorable/interesting in any way enough to be ranked higher or lower (this is the Default category ALL things are placed in if no other rank applies) Ranking 2 - maybe a few redeemable elements but largely more negatives than positives Ranking 1 - So bad that it circles around to being fascinating to observe in some way (not necessarily Funny, or Good, but just interesting somehow) Ranking 0 - Bad in a genuinely frustrating or obnoxious manner

*("best" primarily defined here as most interesting, rather than most good in a technical sense, or some other measure. I tend to value more highly whether there's something novel or thoughtful about the worldbuilding, tone, writing, base premise, etc - than about whether it's actually executed perfectly.)

And here's the amount of shows that have so far been placed into each category -

TV shows ~ Rank 5 (highest) - 20 shows ~ Rank 4 (mid-high) - 28 shows ~ Rank 3 (neutral/default/meh) - 114 shows ~ Rank 2 (mid low) -33 shows ~ Rank 1 (low low but intriguingly so) - 14 shows ~ Rank 0 (iredeemably low) - 2 shows

This would make for a total of 211 TV shows overall. However, there are 57 shows within these list marked as "didn't finish" (typically meaning I quit on the very first or second episode - but log them still to keep a record that I at least had a brief view of them).

So my total of genuinely fully watched shows would be more 154. 211 Total, but a More Accurate Total of 154.

Counting them all and using the Total Number Of The List (211) -- that means roughly 9.5% of all total shows I have ever watched (or at least attempted to watch) have been Mostly Good, 13% have been Moderately Okay, 54% have been either entirely Forgettable or some mix of good + bad that lands them right in the Neutral Middle, 15.6% have been Mostly Bad, 6.6% have been Bad (but in an interesting way), and 0.9% have been Terribly Bad.

Additionally, I didn't even get past the first two episodes of about 27% of the total.

Sooo, discounting ones I didn't finish, my total TV shows ever watched in my life would be about 154 (maybe give or take a few, assuming I might have forgotten some from very long ago).

But instead of entire life, let's just say this is the total for 'About 20 Years' (so, not counting very early childhood when I likely wouldn't remember things I saw/have no detailed recollection of them (like for example, I'm sure at some point when I was like 4yrs old I must have seen an episode of Spongebob or something, but I have zero distinct memories of it, can't quote anything of it, and barely recall the premise - so I don't count it on the list, etc.)).

In that case, 154 divided by 20 would be roughly 7.7 shows a year.

Which is actually surprisingly low considering that I often have stuff on in the background for hours whilst I make sculptures and do costumes and stuff (maybe I should have also marked some distinction between 'things I fully paid attention to' and 'things I kind of half listened to whilst sculpting', but that would further split the categories too much probably lol), but I guess a lot of that is youtube videos or random documentaries, so .. eh.. maybe I get it being lower.

Now, doing the same thing for movies-

Movies ~ Rank 5 (highest) - 4 movies (3.4% of total) ~ Rank 4 (mid-high) - 12 movies (10.3% of total) ~ Rank 3 (neutral/default/meh) - 91 movies (78.4% of total) ~ Rank 2 (mid low) - 8 movies (6.8% of total) ~ Rank 1 (low but interesting) - 1 movie (0.8% of total) ~ Rank 0 (irredeemably low) - none in this category (0%)

That makes 116 for a Total (Actually Remembered) Movies Watched In Lifetime (Or At Least In 20 Years).

116 divided by 20 is roughly 5 or 6 movies a year (I feel this has probably been skewed though by adding everything since like elementary school onwards, as I remember a lot more movies from child/teen years.. Whereas, the past 3 years I feel like I've barely seen maybe even 5 movies?? lol). I also have "Didn't Finish" marked on 18 of them. Which means I quit halfway through about 15% of the total movies.

So, a for broader summary stuff..

I seem to be less forgiving to movies than tv shows, by far. Which makes sense to me, I guess, because I love elaboration and details, so "short form" things that only last an hour or two are often lost on me a bit. My biggest complaint with movies is indeed usually walking away just wishing there had been more exposition, more scenes where characters are doing nothing, more "mindless bantering" conversations, more Quiet Downtime and Lore Elaboration and so on lol, so... of course most 1-2hr films end up feeling a bit Not Enough To Draw My Interest/Nothingy to me.

If you count 5 and 4 as "like" and rankings 2 to 0 as "dislike", then for TV shows I at least somewhat liked 48 of them, and at least somewhat disliked 47 of them.. So it's almost exactly the same lol. I'm just about equally as likely to find something bad as I am to find something redeeming about it. But overall, the largest chance is that I just won't really care much for it at all and it will be tossed into the 'neutral' pile, forgotten forever. Movies have a bit better of a balance, "liking" 16 of them, and "disliking" only 9 of them. So I'm slightly more likely to enjoy a movie than to find it annoying - though still VASTLY more likely to just not find it anything in particular, possibly not even finishing it.

ANYWAY.. this is vague and literally pointless, but like I said, I just really find information fun. Like my document where I've rated every apple flavor I've ever tried (like 40 of them now?), or reviewed every oreo flavor (32?), or ranking data from my entire 10 years of Trying To Make Friends process (out of 100 people, roughly 8% chance of a moderate compatibility, 3% chance of high), or etc. etc.. I love to have random pointless things to analyze I suppose lol.

I doubt anyone tracks things in their life in this same exact way, but I'd be interested in hearing any at least somewhat similar data !!! (like, how many TV shows you watch a year on average, and what percentage of those you like vs. dislike (if you keep track of that sort of thing), etc.)). I guess it might be easier with movies, since I think some people use those websites where you curate a list of movies you've seen and you can rate them or something, so maybe the numbers are already available on those places. :0

[honeybard]

adhd advice will be like people with adhd struggle to get their thoughts organised. also to get diagnosed you need to get your thoughts on why you have adhd organised in advance in order to convince the doctor you have it

[violet-dragongirl]

for a while now I've been trying to get into either designing concepts around apocalypse stories that aren't viewed or told from a white perspective, but also getting into reading and conceptualizing an apocalypse that really never stopped for a group of people, that of which, when looking at stories like fallout, for some...it's happening a second time.

and a lot of popular media really doesn't cover character experiences or environmental design based up on that the apocalypse for these characters never stopped or is happening in a quick devastating way a second time.

[tiny-space-platypus]

Half baked idea time!!

DC/dp au where it's like late teens/warily twenties punk Danny being tired as shit. Like this man just wants to sit on a roof top, patch himself up, maybe smoke then go back to having to do inner dimensional politics or another fight. But Danny can't have that instead every time he tries a hero either thinks he's going to kill himself and tries to intervene or some sort of fight breaks out and his stupid core makes him have a mighty need to assist. Also, where the hell did all these heroes come from, ancients knew they weren't there when he needed help. He's just a tad bit bitter about the only time he's getting attention from heroes is the only time he doesn't want it. He goes everywhere just trying to catch a break.

Or

Danny tries to find some peace and fucking quiet only to end up freak out the league because dear god this kid is going through it and they need to get him before he becomes a supervillain or something.

Metropolis

Chills for 5 minutes seeing Superman nopes the hell out of there cursing in kryptonian. He deals with his kind enough in the realms he doesn't want to deal with the living either. "Nope! Not today! Not dealing with you today!"

Superman is freaking out because there's a kid that was sitting on top of the daily planet only to disappear speaking his language??? He also had a really slow heart beat? Was that child alright??

Coast city

Danny's on a large skyscape sitting on the edge watching the streets below as he patches himself up and lights a smoke only to have it glow green and ripped from him.

"You know, this stuff isn't exactly good for you. Especially on skyscrapers. Besides you seem a little young to be smoking."

Danny who looks like he wants to tackle Hal pit of the god damn sky for interrupting his break. "I feel like I'm too young for a lot of things but here we are"

Hal starts some sort of space cop speech and Danny decides fuck this and jumps off the building mouthing "Acab" with a salute and disappear giving the green Lantern a heart attack. Since he thinks he's about to save a kid from falling to his death only for the kid to not be there.

Central City

Danny is yet again trying to relax on a skyscraper only to be interrupted by the flash. At least this time the hero doesn't take his smokes instead just sits next to him. It's nice actually, the quiet white noise of the city below shining how stars would in the sky. Eventually Danny would finish his smoke and put it out before shoving the bud in his pocket. (He won't litter) as soon as Danny stood up the flash grabbed him forcing him back to sitting.

"Look kid, I don't know what's going on but there's gotta be a better way than this. I'll help you if you need help just-"

Danny now staring at him. A little dumbfounded then laughed.

"I'm not trying to kill myself. Just wanted to smoke in peace." Danny looks down at the ground from 150 meters up "besides I've fallen from worse"

"Great! Wait what?" The Flash looked relieved for a second then proceeded the second part of what Danny just said. The flash only looked away for less then a second which gave Danny just enough time to disappear scaring the shit out of the hero.

Bludhaven

Danny after having a rather rough fight as phantom with his parents. Bleeding and mumbling curses as he patches himself up on another skyscraper. "Stupid ecto-gun, stupid laws, stupid, stupid"

Just as Danny started to patch a literal hole in his side Nightwing would make his appearance. "Back away-"

Danny snapped at the hero. "You've got to be fucking- I'm trying to kill myself, Yes I'm injured, no I do not want help, yes I'm fine. Will you be going now?"

Nightwing paused then sat next to the kid a little disturbed. As he watches this kid doing stitches on himself. "Bad day?"

Danny snorted as he finished stitching himself up with fishing wire. "Bad life" He then started smoking again making the vigilante frown. This kid was nowhere near old enough to smoke but the kid was also giving himself stitches on a roof so not the worst thing this kid has done so far. "Wanna tell me what happened?"

Danny shrugged. "My parents shot me again"

"I'm sorry what? Again?!"

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

idk if ur asks are open but PLEASE MORE LOGAN X READER X KURT

also... belly dancer reader if u want (why? because every chubby reader is either fetishized, insecure, or it has nothing to do w the plot/character)

if you want it to be the same story go off but also if you want it to be seperate go off do what u wanna do

~For Fear That You Find Out How I'm Imagining You~

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader x Kurt Wagner

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: oral (f receiving), Kurt and Logan run they MOUTHS, implied sex and a bunch of sexual advances, Kurt is super nervy

Genre: fluff, & some smut

Summary: Logan and Kurt can't keep their eyes off of you when they see you through a window I won't deny I've got in my mind now // All the things I would do // So I try to talk refined for fear that you find out // How I'm imagining you ~ Talk by Hozier

A/N: Honey my asks are always open xoxo gossip girl lowkey all my readers are plus sized because I am and write with myself in mind but I'm happy to write one that says so explicitly!! Thank you for the request darling. This took much of my brainpower but man did I enjoy writing it

***

You walk around the room as your students practice their hip control.

"Remember everyone, belly dancing is a combination of sharp and smooth. You wanna make it easily distinguishable when you stick something versus milking it. Luckily, the music will absolutely guide you through where to hit things." You say correcting people's posture as you weave between them.

"Can you show it to us again? Like can we see you do it?" One of your students, Max, asks.

"Yeah sure!" You say walking to the front again. You show an example of the moves you've been having them practice. Caught up in your class, you don't even notice the duo whose attention you manage to capture through the large glass windows of your studio.

"Logan, look." Kurt smacks his friend on the chest.

"What? You wanna take a dance class or something?" Logan quirks an eyebrow at him.

"No! Well- do you think that's the way to talk to her?" Kurt's brows furrow.

"Talk to who man?" Logan frowns.

"That woman. The one teaching the class. She's gorgeous don't you think Logan?" Kurt says. Logan looks through the window curiously to check you out. You're wearing a cropped shirt and a pair of shorts that sit low on your wide hips. As you do your choreography at the front of the room Logan notices the cutest little pale streaks on your sides, like tiger stripes decorating your exposed middle.

"Well yeah of course she is, you wanna meet her?" Logan asks him.

"I- I couldn't. What would I say to her?" Kurt shakes his head.

"We could start with hi." Logan shrugs.

"But she's teaching a class."

"Yeah we hang out til she's done, ask the receptionist how long she'll be in the class." He says.

"Would that not be weird?" Kurt frowns.

"Maybe but how else are we going to get a chance to talk to her?" Logan drags Kurt into the dance studio and walks up to the receptionist.

"Hey quick question, how much longer is that dance thing going on? I wanted to- talk to the instructor about what other classes she offers." Kurt is impressed with how easily Logan can come up with a lie so believable.

"It'll be over in about 10 minutes." The guy at the desk answers.

"Cool. We'll just- hang out here." Logan says taking a seat in one of the chairs in the waiting room.

"I can't believe you did that." Kurt whispers.

"Well it was that or watch her like creeps for several weeks until one of us finally works up the courage to speak to her." Logan shrugs.

"Okay but we don't have a plan, what do we say to her when the time comes?"

"We don't need a plan we just say hi and tell her the truth, that we saw her and think she's gorgeous. It can't be that difficult." Logan says.

"You say that but she might hate us."

"If she hates us we leave. She also might like us but we can't know without speaking to her. Either way we should at least give it a shot so we can be sure."

"I guess that's one way to see it." Kurt frowns.

"That's the spirit. Kinda." Logan claps a hand on Kurt's shoulder. Logan turns his attention to his phone, leaving Kurt to his thoughts.

"I can't speak to her." Kurt says suddenly.

"What are you talking about?" Logan frowns at him.

"I'm having thoughts that would require more hail marys than I can count in order to repent for them. I can't speak to her." He shakes his head.

"Why? You think she's a mind reader?" Logan scoffs.

"You can't prove that she isn't!"

"Okay well for the sake of not sounding like a paranoid set of weirdos, let's assume she's not because we have no evidence to support that she is. In which case, most days you won't even say a curse word you're not gonna get in there and start spouting all the dirty dirty things you want to do to her. You'll be fine." Logan says.

"I can't think of anything else." Kurt says, eyes wide.

"Fine then I'll do most of the talking all you have to do is stand there. Looks like the class is over, show time." Logan pulls Kurt through the group of people currently heading out of the building and slips into the studio where you're organizing your things while you drink your water.

"Excuse me?" You turn at the sound of someone's voice. You know it's not one of your students before you even turn around.

"Hi, can I help you gentlemen?" You ask the pair.

"Hi, I'm Logan and this is Kurt."

"Okay, and what brings you into my studio Logan and Kurt?" You tilt your head.

"We saw you through the giant window and we hope this doesn't read as badly as it could but we just had to come in here and tell you how gorgeous we think you are." Logan says.

"You came all the way in here to tell me you think I'm gorgeous?"

"Well yeah, why not." Logan shrugs.

"Hm. And uh, do you speak, Kurt, or does Logan do all the talking for the both of you?" You turn your attention to the silent one of the duo.

"I speak. Hi." Kurt says quickly.

"Are you nervous?" You ask him. Kurt glances at Logan. "Don't look at him, I asked you. I know he's not nervous."

"I'm- a little nervous. I wouldn't normally do something like this." He admits.

"Well what's different today?" You ask.

"Logan sort of dragged me in here."

"So then which of you thinks I'm gorgeous?" You cross your arms.

"Both of us." Kurt says.

"Hm. Well, thank you. Although I don't often find myself the subject of interest for a pair like this." You say grabbing your duffle bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

"First time for everything right?" Logan says.

"I guess so. Anything else you boys need or did you just want to throw a compliment at me and be on your way?"

"What's your name?" Kurt asks.

"Y/n." You smile.

"Beautiful." He practically sighs.

"Thank you."

"Would it be hubristic to ask if we could take you out?" Kurt asks.

"The both of you?" You ask and again Kurt looks at Logan who this time looks at him too as if they're discussing something unspoken.

"Yes." Kurt says.

"Well, it's- certainly a bold thing to ask which I guess is worth appreciating. Which of you has a phone I can put my number into?"

"Here." Logan hands you his phone and you quickly input your number and call yourself so you have his.

"Give us a couple of hours to plan something and we'll give you a call." Logan says.

"Well you'd better. Or I'll be pretty disappointed after all this." You wink at them and leave the studio.

"What are we gonna do?" Kurt asks.

"Plan a date, and quickly." Logan says.

The two boys call you in under an hour.

"Hello?" You say when you pick up the phone.

"Hey it's Logan." Logan says.

"And Kurt!" Kurt says.

"Hi boys." You chuckle. "Have you planned something already?" You ask.

"Yes. When are you free?" Logan asks.

"I teach dance classes Monday through Wednesday for most of the day and Saturdays too but only til 4."

"We'll pick you up on Friday 6 o'clock. If you're not comfortable with us coming to your place, we can meet you in front of the studio instead." Logan says.

"My place is fine. I'll text you my address. Where are we going?"

"You'll find out when we get there. Attire is casual."

"Very well. See you Friday." You say and hang up the phone.

Friday comes along and at 6 on the dot, you receive a text that Logan and Kurt are downstairs. You take a moment to double check your makeup and gather your belongings before leisurely making your way out of your apartment building. Outside, Kurt is standing by a car and he opens the door upon your arrival.

"Hello Kurt. You look nice this evening." You say, winking at him as you slide into the car. You're sure if his skin wasn't a deep shade of blue, he'd be blushing bright pink. You wonder if he can blush.

As you get into the car you realize it's vintage, it's got those old school bench seats from the 60s that fits 3 people in the front.

"Hi y/n." Logan says.

"Hi Logan, you look nice too." You tell him. Kurt gets into the seat next to you.

"It's good to see you again liebling." Kurt says.

"Liebling?" You ask.

"It means darling, it's German." Logan says.

"You're German?" You turn to Kurt.

"I speak it." He nods.

"That answer feels evasive." You muse.

"My history is complicated." He shrugs.

"And what about you, Logan, is your history 'complicated' too."

"We're mutants, complicated comes with the territory." Logan says.

"Well- it'll certainly make getting to know you two something interesting at least." You shrug.

"That's a cute outlook." Logan chuckles.

"I mean, when you get asked on a joint date by a pair of- friends? Boyfriends? What is your relationship to each other actually?" You ask.

"We have known each other a long time. I suppose friends is accurate." Kurt says.

"You suppose?" You probe.

"Logan likes to pretend he hates everybody so he never admits we are friends but he's a big softie in secret."

"Oh hush Wagner." Logan rolls his eyes.

"In secret? I'd say it's pretty obvious." You laugh.

"Alright that's enough you two. We're here." Logan rolls his eyes. You look out the window to see that you're at an arcade.

"An arcade?" You smirk.

"We thought it would be best to pick something generally enjoyable, since we don't know anything about you besides that you're a dancer." Kurt says as both he and Logan get out of the car.

"You made a good choice. I hope you're ready to get your asses kicked though." You say climbing out of the car after Kurt.

"Competitive are you?" Logan asks.

"You have no idea." You wink at him.

"You are so on pretty lady." Logan chuckles.

"Bring it big guy."

You spend a couple of hours at the arcade with them, every game you play with Logan is competitive and every game you play with Kurt is just for the fun of playing. Kurt's focus is mostly on getting to know you, and staring. All he wants to do is stare at you. It's a wonder he can manage to focus on anything else. 

If he were honest, he's not been able to shake those unholy thoughts he's been having since first seeing you. As you race Logan in some snowboarding simulator, he wonders what you would taste like. When you challenge Logan to skeeball, Kurt can't stop thinking about how you'd feel wrapped around him. When you and Logan play some zombie shooter game, he imagines your lips against his or teasing kisses down his neck. When you play one of those dancing games he can't keep his eyes from wandering over your curves in your lowcut crop top and your tennis skirt. His eyes catch the part of your tummy peaking between where your shirt ends and your skirt begins and all he wants to do is cover the area in kisses and love bites.

"Dude, what's up with you? You've been more quiet than usual." Logan asks Kurt quietly when you slip away to refill your drink.

"Hail Marys." Kurt says.

"You're doing hail marys?!"

"If only. I should be. How can you manage to hold a conversation with her when she looks so-" Kurt trails.

"Trust me man I am no saint but it's much easier to ignore that urge if you actually try to divert your attention. Play a few games that'll maybe help you dispel some of that pent up frustration you're feeling." Logan suggests.

"What are you two whispering about over here?" You ask.

"You know you've been kicking my ass all night, I think it's time for you to take down Kurt at a few of these." Logan shoves Kurt forward a little bit.

"Okay. Pick your poison Kurt." You say.

"Can I pick you?" He asks.

"Not in public." You wink. "I meant a game hon."

"That one." Kurt points to an air hockey table.

"Air hockey?" You quirk an eyebrow up.

"What? No good at that one?"

Oh no, I just thought you'd pick something else." You shrug walking over to the air hockey table. You wrap one hand around your paddle and Kurt can't help but wonder what it'd feel like for those same fingers to close around his dick the same way. You place your other hand on the edge of the table and lean forward with a smirk.

"Don't take this personally, but I'm gonna wipe the floor with you darling." You say.

"Can't wait to see this." Logan says placing the puck onto the table. It darts quickly back and forth as you both hit it across the table. The first point is yours and you clap your hands when it slides by Kurt's paddle. The next three points are also yours and Kurt hasn't scored once. The game only goes to 7 points so at this rate you'll completely sweep. Logan walks over to Kurt as he grabs the puck from under the table. You can't quite hear their hushed conversation but you watch them whisper for a few moments.

"Aren't you good at air hockey?" Logan asks Kurt.

"I made a mistake here I can't possibly focus with her bent forward like that I can practically see down her shirt." Kurt says.

"Yeah, my view isn't half bad either but I don't have to pay attention to the game here." Logan shrugs. "Focus man."

"Are you two done co-conspiring over there?" You ask.

"I'm giving a pep talk, you're crushing him." Logan defends.

"You asked me to." You say.

The final score ends up being 7 - 4 in your favor. You're surprised Kurt managed to score any considering how obviously distracted he's been.

"Not bad especially since you're barely here." You muse.

"What?"

"You're distracted. It's pretty obvious. Is something wrong?" You ask.

"Uh-" Kurt's eyes dart away from you.

"You're doing that again? I thought we were beyond looking at Logan for answers. Just tell me the truth. Whatever it is I'm sure I can handle it I'm a big girl I promise."

"It's nothing." Kurt shakes his head.

"Oh I find that hard to believe." You hum. "Logan, do you believe him?" You ask although your eyes stay on Kurt. He looks nervous enough when you ask Logan that you're sure Logan knows exactly what's going on with him.

"Well- if he says it's nothing." Logan trails.

"You're protecting him. Cute. But I expect the truth when I ask a question. So again, Kurt, what's on your mind?"

"I don't think I can say."

"Why not?"

"There aren't enough confessionals in the world to compensate for the thoughts occupying my mind at the moment and I- I would never want you to believe that's the only thing I want from you."

"A confessional?" You frown.

"No." Kurt says and you take a moment to dwell on his words before it clicks.

"Ooohh. Naughty boy, imagination running away with you is it now?" You ask.

"You could say that, yes."

"I appreciate the sentiment of being gentlemen but neither of you is particularly subtle enough with your staring for me not to notice. It's quite clear you're both... influenced by your third leg for lack of a better phrasing. Don't look at me like that I'm not a nun. Although if you're hell bent on the whole confessional thing I'm sure I can absolve you of your sins."

"W-what does that mean?"

"I think we've spent enough time at the arcade. Now the question is, how far do you two live from here?" You turn to Logan.

"About 15 minutes." Logan says.

"Perfect." You say grabbing Kurt by his collar and pulling him towards the exist. "Come along Logan." You throw over your shoulder and he does so with a chuckle.

The drive to Logan and/or Kurt's place is quick. 15 minutes isn't by any means long but you're almost certain Logan broke a couple traffic laws to get there in 10. He leads the way to the apartment and once inside the living room, you face the boys.

"Now, I've never gone to a confessional but tell me your sins so that the gods may forgive your transgressions." You say to Kurt.

"I don't speak because it's all I can do to control myself around you. I find myself consumed with thoughts of how you would taste, feel, sound, the faces you'd make in the heat of passion."

"We'll start with taste then." You tell him. With a hand on his shoulder you push Kurt to his knees in front of you. Kurt looks up at you in pure disbelief, hands on your thighs.

"You- want me to, you'll let me-" Kurt trails off as you caress his face.

"I've already asked you to. Isn't that what you want Kurt?"

"Yes please." He breathes out.

"Good, so go on, taste me." You say dropping your skirt and panties to the floor, exposing yourself to Kurt and Logan.

"Christ almighty." Kurt says before burying his face between your thighs. His tongue slides between your folds and you sigh at the pleasure it brings you.

"Don't worry Logan I haven't forgotten you, come kiss me." You say.

"Thought you'd never ask." He says placing a hand at the back of your throat as he kissing you fiercely. You slip one hand up his shirt dragging your fingers over his abdomen enjoying the way his muscles clench under your touch. Your other hand slides into Kurt's hair, holding him against you as he laps greedily at your cunt. Kurt wraps his lips around your cilt and sucks harshly at the bundle of nerves. The sharp waves of pleasure make your knees buckle slightly and Logan's arm winds around your waist holding you against him as he trails kisses to your throat.

"Oh fuck." You moan, tilting your head to give Logan more room to cover your neck in blooms of red. "Don't stop Kurt." You say, fingers tightening in his dark hair. You feel Kurt slip a finger into your entrance, sliding in and out so his tongue can focus on your clit. Logan's hands run under your shirt and when his fingers begin to tweak your nipples your orgasm hits you and your shaky legs are only supported by Logan and Kurt holding you.

"You two are a dangerous pair." You breathe out.

"You haven't seen danger yet gorgeous." Logan says nipping at your ear in a way that makes you shiver.

"Well, there's plenty of hours left in the evening. And Kurt's vices are not yet relieved."

"I hope you don't have much planned tomorrow liebling. We're rather- tenacious." Kurt says kissing along your abdomen as he rises to his feet.

"I can take it sweetheart. Don't you worry." You say. You feel pretty confident in your words, and Kurt and Logan are forever up for a challenge. If the walls could talk they'd have a novel of stories to tell.

***

[mindless-existence1]

More sfw Mha boyfriend headcanons

Authors note: Kinda a part 2 but does relate to the other one at all. My friend helped me with the Ida stuff so thanks pookie. Also this is kinda an in-between fic just so then I can keep myself motivated to write the requests I have

Contents: I think like one curse word

Pt1

Mha Masterlist

My Masterlist

Includes: Bakugo, Denki, Ida, and Tokoyami

Ida would schedule times to hang out with you when he's free. Not because he like hates you or smth but he just has a very set schedule he likes to stick to. If you want to hang out outside of the set time then most likely it'll turn into a study date.

Denki is a yapper and he often yaps about you. His poor friends have to deal with him mentioning you constantly. Something completely random comes up and he's going "Oh I remember y/n was talking about that one time, speaking of them..." he's a simple man you loves his partner.

Tokoyami is a drawer I feel. He'd have a sketch book/journal he carries around for sure. In a not creepy way he'd draw yiu a lot. Like a muse kind of way. He'd never show you butbthen you find it and he has to explain how he just finds you so perfect and then after that he shows you his drawings.

Bakugo would definitely not even realize how in love with you he is untill kirishima or someone mentions it and then he's noticing how different he acts with you. Have him tied around you damn finger.

Ida definitely wakes up hella early to exercise and specifically run (obviously). He'll try to get you to wake up early to but often times he wants to wake up way to early. You just kiss him goodbye most mornings and fall promptly back to sleep.

Tokoyami is a poet I bet. Or at least a song writer which is basically the same thing. His muse? You. In his journel/sketch book he has poems along with the drawings. Another thing he's probably embarrassed about bit high key he's just in love. He has so much to say but is too embarrassed to say it.

Denki would love to share headphones with you. I fear his tase in music would either be shit or the best in the planet. If it's bad you help him shape it to be better. He'd love to keep his in during class so then he can think about you isntead of whatever boring thing you are getting taught. Also I fear he'd forget to charge them all the time.

Bakugo is the type of guy to tell you no while simultaneously doing it. Like you ask him "could you get me a glass of water?" "No is already getting up to get a glass" or he'd tell you know and wait all of 15 seconds before doing it for you.

Denki when he gets nervous will let out little zaps on accident. As most the tickle or leave a slight sting but nothing crazy. So for your first kiss he's freaking out, obviously, and accidently zaps you. Face is bright red and he's now embarrassed for the rest of his life. Definitely wants to go die in a hole but when you start laughing and kiss him anyway he's fine.

Tokoyami would also like to share earbuds with you but like I said before his music taste is immaculate. Personally I like Korn and maybe im biased but I think he'd like that band to. And just all around metal/rock bands. But also just good music in general. Unlike denki he'd charge his earbuds religiously. He'd die without his music same bro.

Bakugo after a hard day of training would go straight to your dorm. Somehow he thinks it's way more comfortable then his. He just plop down on your bed before a shower before changing clothes anything. Which would be ew but he'd eventually do all that but first he needs a kiss and small cuddle with his partner first.

Ida would look up relationship stuff. This is probably cringe but like I fear he'd get nervous about his first relationship and then all the sudden he's looking up "how long should you date before you kiss your partner?" Eventually he realizes he just needs to take everything at his own speed.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

A Bump In The Night: Part 2

find part 1 here Summary: With Arthur overhearing the events from last night, knowing he couldn’t go to Tommy about it, he goes to someone else. Meanwhile you return to school where you meet a new student who has close ties with someone in the family.

warnings: jealousy, incest, sister!reader, talks of arranged relationship/marriage, age gap (Reader is 18)

taglist: @calmingmelody96 @sunflower-tia

The following morning the sun rose quaintly on the horizon, peering in through the curtains delicately waking Tommy from his slumber.

There you were, resting, soundly asleep contently in his arms. He hummed and smiled to himself, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before rolling out of bed.

Pol was standing in the kitchen, arms crossed with one eyebrow raised, not even attempting to hide her disapproval. Arthur excused himself, saying he was grabbing the post, though it was already laying out blatantly clear on the table.

“Morning Pol. What did I do to upset you now?” He pulled down a mug from the cabinet, filling the glass with just the hot kettle of tea that was steaming and whistling atop the stove.

“You know damn well what you’ve done!” She spoke with a quiet grit, careful not to wake you before smacking Tommy with the rolled up paper. 

She scoffed, her hair flipping on either sides of her head from the anger and outrage she was feeling.

“What in the hell were you thinking! She’s young and I will not let you ruin her life!” He huffed, turning to face his prodding aunt with an annoyed gaze.

He glanced out the window, thinking about how Arthur’s room was right next to his, connecting the dots. His body tensed, lips curling into a sarcastic, devilish smile as he approached Polly, slamming his coffee on the table. Speaking in a threatening, low voice, he pointed his finger degradingly at your aunt, his sapphire eyes boiling with rage.

“What I decide to do with my cock is none of your business or Arthur’s. I’ve always loved her and you know that more than anyone I’d never hurt her Pol, but I solemnly swear if you mention this to her and break her heart in any way, we will have words.” Polly was taken aback by Tommy’s tone but held her ground, not allowing him to influence her decision. Taking his jacket from the coat rack, he opened the door, lighting a cigarette and stopping mid-stride.

“Oh, and Pol? If you bring up this little conversation I will hide the money and withold your cut. May I need not remind you I also know where Mr. Gold lives and there are a lot of people aside from myself that want him dead. With that being said, maybe compromise a little, eh?” Polly’s nose was flaring, she knew her nephew inside and out, Tommy would go to that extent to keep his precious little angel all too himself, so she’d have to combat and end this little romance another way.

Waking up from your deep sleep, the events of last night captured your mind, replaying over and over like a broken record you didn’t want to fix. 

Under the sheets forbiddingly with such a crazed lust. His cozy legs intertwined with yours, the incomprehensible, profound desire just before Tommy had taken you as his own. Those baby blue eyes so sincere yet filled with a sense of animalistic hunger. The way his cock stretch your tight hole, his cum filling you to the brim like a water ballon bursting within your heat. He was so caring, so careful, so mesmerizing, your skin was forming goosebumps as you reminisced the previous night.

Yawning and stretching you turned to the side only to realize Tommy wasn’t there but he had left a note.

“Left for a business meeting Pol made you breakfast, please be sure to eat, I’ll be home later in the evening and Ada will take you to your classes. Until tonight my darling.” Next to the note he had two pills set out in case you were in any pain. You took them knowing if they were still sitting there when Tommy came home he’d be upset.

Walking to your room, ensuring the coast was clear, you carried Tommy’s nightshirt into your room, tucking the thin, delicate fabric beneath your pillow before getting dressed for the day.

Pol and Arthur were sat at the kitchen table, both seeming to be in deep thought and conversation, stopping once you entered the room.

They’d never done that before, but you brushed it off. “How’d you sleep dear?” 

Polly looked at you with skepticism, wanting to know if you’d tell her the truth or if your allegiance still stood grounded with Tommy.

“I slept alright, and you?” She hummed to herself, motioning for Arthur to leave the room, maybe she’d get it out of you if it was a private conversation or perhaps turning the conversation into a minor detour.

“I was talking with Arthur. Lizzie has a cousin who is looking for a wife. I want you to attend on a date with him.” All of a sudden it seemed you forgot how to swallow, nearly choking on your food from her statement.

Before you could answer Ada walked through the door, saving you the trouble and disregarding your aunt. She claimed she would bring this up later, perhaps at a better time and not to inform Tommy of this conversation.

Being the older sister she was, Ada prodded along the drive to your school, inquiring about what had Pol’s panties in a twist. You didn’t have much to answer for as she chatted along, chattering along with possible conclusions, that she believed herself to be true. None of them involving you, some of Tommy since he was known to get under her skin at times but surely it would blow over.

It was your first day of senior year, classes were all over the place, and new students roaming the halls with their unfamiliar faces. Due to holding the Shelby last name it was awfully difficult for you to make friends without your family members scaring them off, or the “rumors” of what they’ve done to people. Your mind was preoccupied nevertheless with an impending hurricane of emotions, wanting nothing more than to just be in your brother’s bed once more in a way a sister never should.

Taking your seat, the bell chimed along, and for the first time in your schooling history a person sat beside you, willingly. 

The hand of another man flexing outward as a greeting. “Hi, my names James. You’re Y/N, aren’t you? My sister brings you up all the time, thinking we’d be a good fit. I suppose we have a date together later this week.” You were taken aback, not expecting the soft shade of brown eyes, and plump lips curling into an exemplary smile that would make any girl’s heart skip a beat. Shaking yourself away from your thoughts, you extended your hand. Why did this feel like a business deal moreso than a greeting? 

“Ye-yeah. I’m her.” As the day stumbled on, James had many classes with you, staying seated next to you each and every time. He was kind, polite, charming, but your mind was still flustered from your brother, and you knew what he’d think about this, surely scaring him away as he did the rest. He was quite attractive but the only man you had interest in, that should be off limits was outside waiting for you with the car.

Your eyes beamed in the sunlight like a school girl in love, and Tommy attempted to hold back his smile. He had a reputation to maintain after all, but that smile quickly faded when your papers fell from your bag, and another man began to assist you in cleaning up the mess. “Oh, oh you don’t have to do that James I-“

“No, no it’s quite alright, wouldn’t want you to lose your homework. I’ve heard how your family is.” Well what was that supposed to be mean? How would he know anything about your family? Probably Lizzie since she likes to eavesdrop and act like she’s a Shelby. You had always held a profound jealousy for her whenever Tommy gave her attention even though it was to distract his heart from what he really wanted, but it still hurt you. 

Glancing at your brother, his shoulders were stiff, hands folded in front of him as he examined the scene displayed before him, analyzing who this mysterious boy was. But maybe he needed to know how you felt numerous times. The jealousy, the anger, the need to posess.

A strong breeze blew through the atmosphere, but James had caught your last paper just in time. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” His eyes scanned yours before in a bold move, he brushed a wild strand of hair behind your ear, his hand running down your cheek as he took in your beauty on the school steps.

“You have a natural, beautiful glow did you know that?” Your lips pressed together in a fine line as you held back from blushing right then and there. But before you could respond, Tommy was right beside you in an instant, pulling James up from the ground by his coat.

“She’s off limits. If I see or hear about you again, I promise- James is it?” He nodded terrified, not being able to look anywhere else but the cold, invading abyss of Tommy’s stare.

“I promise you, the outcome won’t be very graceful, surely you’ve heard of me, eh?” The boy was shaking in his clothes, as you stood near rolling your eyes from Tommy’s jealousy problems. Though a small part of you couldn’t help but feel an immense light of the flame between your thighs. 

Dropping him to the ground, Tommy held his hand out for you, as he always did like the gentleman he was, also because he enjoyed the feeling of your hands cusped together, the warmth, and closeness.

You didn’t dare turn around to check on James, knowing what the consequences would be. Assisting you into the car, Tommy didn’t hesitate to prod.

“New friend of yours? You know how we feel about strangers. They like to put their noses in places they shouldn’t be.” His crystal eyes scanned your body sitting all too innocently in the passenger seat, and how your skirt was much too short, nearly showing your most treasured area.

When you hadn’t responded he glanced over once more, noticing a singular tear running down your cheek shamelessly.

“Darling, are you alright? I didn’t mean to-“

“Auntie Pol wants me to marry him and set up a date for an evening this week!” Ah, so this is the riddled path she chose to go down. Calming his demeanor from the previous sight at the school, Tommy gazed out the windshield, jaw tightening as he placed the diminishing fire lit on his cigarette into the ashtray. 

“Don’t worry love. Let me handle this, If Pol wants to play with fire, she must forget she is playing with the ring leader.”

[penelopepine]

Elephant in the Room Pt. 4

Part 3 Part 4

Summary: John and you hooked up after a night at the bar. You two after that never saw each other again. At least until 12 years later when Price discovers that 9 months after your time together you had given birth to not one baby, but two. Word Count: 2309

Price continues to avoid you even after getting back to base. That seems to be what you want right now as well if the glare you shoot his way when he attempts to carry a few of the bags inside was anything to go by. With that in mind he swiftly made his retreat; leaving the rest of the team to help the two of you get settled while he excused himself on account of needing to do some paperwork.

His mind was racing far too much for him to truly focus on that though. Price tries to stay away, but after a few hours he can't help but find himself at your door once more today. Things like this do require space, but they also need to be discussed as soon as possible lest resentment and anger continue to grow. Ghost's words from earlier echoing in his mind. 

He knocks firmly on the door, and waits to see if you'll open the door, and surprisingly you do. You don't seem surprised to see him either. The two of you stand there in silence for what feels like hours before your moving, and gesturing for him to come inside. 

The silence continues even after the door shuts and you lead him to the living room. Price sits across from you, and only then does he finally speak, "I know the things that have been happening are my fault, and I'm- I'm sorry. I am going to fix things though. The only thing I'm begging of you is that I get a chance to talk to Amelia and Andrew." 

“No, no this isn’t your fault John. I shouldn’t have implied that I thought it was earlier. It’s just- everything is happening so fast; I mean just a few days ago everything was perfectly normal, and now it feels like I’m in an unending nightmare.” You explain to him before taking a calming breath, “Would you … like to talk to Amelia tomorrow? She was asking about you earlier, and I admittedly didn’t have any answers for her” 

“May I ask how much they do know about me; about us?” 

It's here where he sees a wave of sadness hit you. "They know just about as much as I do. I told them your name, that you were a lieutenant when I met you, and that you were kind. They also know that we weren't any official. Would be a bit hard to lie about not knowing your last name if I said we were."

Price softly whispers your name before continuing, "I shouldn't have left like I did, love. You didn't deserve that. Maybe things would be different now if I did."

"I tried to find you John, I wanted things to be different." 

"There was only so much you could have done. Heaven knows there are hundreds of 'Johns' in the military." He pauses here thinking about the conversations he's had with you today, "I still haven't properly introduced myself to you."

You let go of a soft laugh at his words. This might be the first time seeing any sort of happiness on your face since meeting you again. "Well go on then! I'd love to finally know my children's father's name." 

"John Price, and it's captain now."

"Captain John Price." You look at him with a soft smile, "it suits you." 

He likes the way you say his name. It only makes him wish he could have told you it all those years ago. You both sit in comfortable silence for a moment before he asks, "Were you serious about letting me talk to Amelia tomorrow?"

"Maybe- maybe you could come by for lunch; talk to her then." 

"I'd like that." He answers you with a gentle tone. "What is she like; what is Andrew like?"

Your eyes are soft and smile sweet as you reply to him, "Amelia … She's a good kid; smart too, but a little spitfire that one. I don't think that girl has ever been afraid of confrontation. Very blunt, I'll warn you now about that. I'd prepare yourself for some hard questions from her."

"Good to know," Price nods at the information you've shared. He can only imagine right now what a kid who's meeting their father for the first time in 12yrs could ask. "And Andrew?"

"Football is life is a phrase I'm pretty sure he actually lives by with how much I've heard him say it." You lightly chuckle at your words, and wipe a fallen tear from your cheeks before continuing, "He's a sweet boy though; always wanting to include others in whatever he does." 

"They sound like great kids." He pauses for only a moment, "You're a good mum." 

Your eyes snap up to meet him when you hear this with surprise shining through your face. "Thank you," your voice cracks out.

Price takes a moment of silence before speaking again, "It's late and I don't want to keep you up any longer, love."

You walk him to the door, and before you shut it you whisper, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." Hell or high water he'll be here tomorrow. He won't let you down again.

-

It's the next morning and only a few hours until his first conversation with his daughter when Laswell decides to make a sudden appearance in his office. “John.” 

“Laswell,” He addresses her, “what you got for me?”

She steps up to his desk and immediately hands him a folder, “Information about who took Andrew.” 

Instantly opening up the folder Price sees the name of the same group who had managed to take him captive for a few hours months ago. He had always thought that the interrogation had been odd. They didn’t ask for any information, any codes, or any future plans the team had. Instead they had swabbed his mouth, and left him alone for most of his time there. 

Looking back on it now though their intentions are becoming more clear. They didn’t want to simply torture information out him; they wanted to take something seemingly much more important to him. This was in the plans for much longer than he realized. 

Flipping through the other pages he sees a printed scene shot of a DNA test website. It shows a profile with his name being listed as father above Andrews’. That's how they found Andrew it seems; by a stupid online genetic test. 

"Where are we now on getting him back?"

"We have a basic location on their base of operation as of now. Be prepared to be sent out on a moment's notice; even for today. We're getting this kid back as soon as we can."

"I can agree with you on that. Has anything else been sent to us since the video?"

Laswell shakes her head at him, "Nothing as of yet. Which we should take as a good thing. Hopefully that means Andrew has been left alone for the most part."

"We can only hope."

She takes a step closer to him, and gives his shoulder a quick squeeze, "We're going to get him back, John.” With a slight pause she continues, “What about the girls; how have things been with them?” 

“Well I’ve been allowed to have a conversation with Amelia today so things are doing good, all things considered.” 

“Yeah? Are you ready for that?”

“Laswell.” 

“Yes, John?”

“How do you talk to 12 year old girls?” 

Laswell gives a small chuckle at Price’s question, “Don’t treat her like a soldier for one, and two … I’d just be honest about whatever questions she might have. She probably already feels like her life has been turned upside down. The last thing she wants right now is to be treated like she can’t handle knowing the truth.” 

“So just be honest about everything?” 

“Well she is 12 so there are going to be things you’ll probably want to explain in a more age appropriate way, but 12 year olds aren’t babies; they can handle having a serious conversation.” 

“And what if she’s angry?” Price can’t help but ask. Of all things, that is the one that he’s not sure how to properly react to or handle that.

Laswell merely sighs at him, “She’s going to be angry. You just need to stay calm, actively listen to what she says, and don’t take everything she says out of anger to heart. Especially with how crazy her life is right now.” 

He doesn’t say anything else right away; thinking about what Laswell had just said to him. As always she’s right; Amelia is most likely going to be angry. He knows if he was in her position he would be. “Thank you Laswell.” 

“No problem John.” She then turns around and walks out of the office.

Once alone he takes out the photo he had taken from the first folder Laswell had given him; the one that showed all three of you smiling together. Price thinks about how once he gets Andrew back he'll make sure all of you can be together like that again. 

-

It was noon right on the dot when Price stepped inside your house once more. The first thing he noticed was how delicious it smelt inside. It really made him think for a moment about how long it’s been since he’s had a meal that wasn’t from the base cafeteria. 

You both exchange slightly awkward greetings with one another before you lead him into the dinning room where Amelia is already sitting at the table; a notepad sits in front of her. Price stops in the arch way as he watches you walk over to her, and give her shoulder a squeeze. 

“Lunch is almost ready; it’ll just be a few more minutes.” You move your head between Amelia and him, “While I’m finishing up you two can have a talk. Amelia, come get me if you need to.” You say before nervously exiting the room.

With you gone now it just leaves Price and Amelia alone to have what he can already tell is going to be a hard conversation. He makes his way further into the room and sits across from her with a hand extended, “Hello, Amelia. I’m John; John Price.” 

He watches as his daughter takes a calming breath as she extends her hand to shake his as well, “Hello, … John.” 

She sounds unsure saying his name which he can understand. Price didn’t come in here expecting her to call him any sort of partial name; that is something he hopes later on she’ll be comfortable giving him. That time is not now though, now is the time to build trust. 

“I heard you had some questions for me, and I promise to do my best to answer them for you,” He slightly motions towards the notepad. 

At the mention of questions Amelia seems to immediately perk up; even flipping her notepad open to reveal several lines of text. Price unfortunately couldn’t read it from this distance. It seems all nervousness from her has been thrown out the window though. 

The first few questions were basic get to know you questions. Things like age, birthday, and where did he grow up. Price noted how this felt more like an interrogation rather than a talk which actually eased his nerves a bit; she strangely reminded him of Laswell at this moment. 

Those kind of questions could only last for so long though before you started asking about things currently going on. “Have there been any updates about Andrew?” 

“We’re hoping to retrieve him any day now.” Price hesitantly answers; unsure of how much he should really be discussing with her. “You’ll get your brother back soon.” 

“And afterwards?”

“Hmm?”

"So like … what's going to happen afterwards then? You keep saying you're going to get Andrew back, but what about after that?" Amelia questions him, "Are you just going to save the day and all these years without you don't matter anymore because of that, or are things going to go back to when we never knew you?"

“Amelia!” Your voice rings out from the other side of the room. 

Price doesn’t know how, but you had managed to come into the room with him noticing. He puts a calming hand up to you, and softly says your name before continuing, “No, it’s ok it’s a valid question to ask,and the answer truthfully is that I don’t know what is going to happen afterwards. That is something your mum and I have yet to discuss.”

"What do you want to happen?" You are now sitting next to Amelia with a comforting hand on hers.

"I- I don't know." She says as her head hangs low and picks at her nails.

"That's ok; You don't have to know." You stand up and gently help Amelia out of her chair, "Why don't you come and help me bring out the dishes?" 

Price watches as you both leave; knowing that you wanted to have a private conversation without him present. It only takes a few minutes for you both to return, Amelia mood seems to have risen based on the easy smile on her face. 

The conversation that follows is stilled in the beginning, but quickly becomes livelier as Amelia talks about her friends and upcoming school year. Everything for just a moment feels calm, but of course nothing can last forever. 

A loud rapid knocking sound rings through the house; stopping any conversations in an instant. Price is the first one to stand and walk towards the door. He knows that whoever is on the other side is most likely looking for him anyway. 

“Captain.” Gaz stands before him, a serious look on his face. “Laswell needs us in the debriefing room. It’s time to get your boy.” 

Taglist: @zarsghost @lulurubberduckie @mafer383 @7thsthings @sazifer

[theonottsbxtch]

NO TIME TO DIE PT.3 | OP81

an: lando my sweetboy, what can i say

summary: a continuation of the skyfall series, following a peaceful few months away from the world they were so used to, they were found again. this time neither of them knew what could happen.

wc: 10k

warnings: mentions of death, comas

part one | part two |

The dim light of the safe house barely penetrated the heavy curtains, casting long shadows across the room. She sat at the small kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a lukewarm cup of coffee, the bitter taste grounding her as her thoughts swirled in chaos. Each tick of the clock seemed to echo the weight of the past week—the long, agonising days spent waiting, hoping, and working tirelessly to bring Oscar back.

After the incident in the medical room, the team had kept Oscar under close observation, sedating him whenever necessary, but he was still trapped within the confines of his mind, the programming deeply embedded. Every time she thought of him, her heart would clench with pain; she could still see the look in his eyes when he had attacked her, the absence of recognition, the fear that he might never return to her.

The door swung open, and Lewis entered, looking worn but determined. He had been working with George and Toto, analysing everything they could about Oscar’s condition, desperate to find a way to reverse the effects of the conditioning.

“Hey,” he said softly, taking a seat across from her. “How are you holding up?”

She shrugged, not trusting herself to speak. The truth was, she was hanging by a thread. Each day felt like a battle against despair, but she refused to give in. Not now, not when Oscar needed her the most.

“We’re making progress,” Lewis continued, his voice steady. “Toto and George are looking into a more effective way to reverse the programming. But it’ll take time. We can’t rush this.”

She nodded, forcing a smile. “I know. I just… I want him back. I hate seeing him like this.”

Lewis leaned forward, concern etched across his features. “We all do. But pushing too hard could do more harm than good. You need to take care of yourself, too.”

“I can’t think about myself right now,” she replied, her voice stronger than she felt. “Not while he’s… stuck.”

Lewis sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I get it. But we can’t afford to lose you, either. You’re going to need your strength for whatever comes next.”

She leaned back in her chair, staring at the table. “Next? What’s next? More waiting? More hoping? What if he never comes back to us?”

“Don’t think like that,” Lewis urged, his voice firm. “We’re working on a plan, and we’ll do everything we can to bring him back. Just hold on to that hope a little longer.”

Before she could respond, George entered the room, his expression serious. “We need to talk. Toto has some new intel about Zak’s operations. It might give us an advantage.”

She straightened, her heart racing at the mention of Zak. “What is it?”

“He’s planning a shipment of high-tech weapons,” George explained, his eyes scanning the room as if checking for eavesdroppers. “We think it’s happening soon, and it might be our best opportunity to gather intel. But we’ll have to split up. It’s dangerous.”

Her heart sank at the thought of more danger, but she also felt a surge of adrenaline. “We can’t let Zak continue this. We need to take him down.”

“Exactly,” Lewis chimed in. “But we need to approach this carefully. The last thing we want is to put ourselves at risk—especially with Oscar still recovering.”

As they discussed their strategy, she couldn’t shake the feeling that if they could dismantle Zak’s operation, it might create a distraction that would give her the chance to work on Oscar’s recovery in the chaos.

“Can we use the mission as a diversion?” she suggested, her voice rising with excitement. “If we can draw attention away from him, maybe I can slip in and try to get to him while everyone’s busy.”

Lewis and George exchanged uncertain looks. “It’s risky,” George warned. “What Zak kills you on sight?”

“I have to try,” she insisted, her heart racing with determination. “I can’t just sit here. I need to do something.”

“Okay, but we’ll need a solid plan,” Lewis replied, placing a hand on hers. “We’ll help you, but promise us you’ll be careful.”

She nodded, a newfound resolve swelling within her. “I promise.”

As night fell, they gathered to finalise their plans in the safe house’s dimly lit living room. Maps and blueprints were spread out on the table, the atmosphere charged with urgency.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Toto said, his voice commanding. “We’ll split into two teams. One will create a distraction near Zak’s main facility while the other infiltrates to gather intel. If things go south, we need to be able to regroup quickly.”

She listened intently, her mind racing with the possibilities. But the thought of Oscar still weighed heavily on her.

“Where will Oscar be during this?” she finally asked, her voice steady despite the anxiety gnawing at her.

Toto glanced at her, his expression conflicted. “We’ll keep him under guard in the safe house. It’s the safest place for him right now.”

“Safe?” she echoed incredulously. “You’re planning to put him in a place where he can wake up and not know what’s happening? I can’t let that happen. I can’t risk him being left alone with guards who don’t understand his situation.”

“We need to prioritise the mission,” Toto countered, his voice firm. “If we’re successful, we can deal with Oscar afterward.”

“Afterward?” she repeated, her voice rising in disbelief. “No, I won’t let you do that. I won’t leave him behind.”

Toto sighed, rubbing his temples as if fighting a headache. “You’re being irrational. This is about strategy, not emotions. We need to be practical.”

“I’m being practical! If I’m there when he wakes up, he’ll have a better chance of recognising me. I can help him. I can talk him through this.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but Lewis stepped in, holding up a hand. “Toto, what if you stay? He knows you and we’re more than capable of holding our own.”

Toto looked at the three of them and settled his gaze on her knowing her mind wouldn’t change. Looking down at the map one more time, he took a deep breath. “Fine.”

That night, as the team prepped for their roles, she felt a mix of nerves and anticipation. Lewis and George would be part of the distraction team, while she would go in and deal with Zak herself

The boat rocked gently on the dark water, the soft lapping of the waves a deceptive contrast to the electric tension in the air. She stood at the helm, the moon casting silver reflections across the surface, illuminating the night just enough to see her own breath. This was no ordinary mission; this was a high-stakes operation that could bring down one of the most dangerous figures in their world—Zak.

As she crept through the dimly lit cabin, her senses were heightened, attuned to every sound—the hum of machinery, the distant chatter of crew members, the echo of her own heartbeat. She felt the weight of her team’s hopes resting on her shoulders. After everything they had been through, she was determined to see this through.

Turning a corner, she was startled to find Lando standing there, leaning casually against the wall, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He raised a finger to his lips in a silencing gesture, an unexpected and unsettling calm radiating from him.

“Lando,” she whispered, confusion washing over her. “What are you doing here?”

He merely smirked, his expression enigmatic. Then, without a word, he stepped aside, allowing her to pass. She hesitated, caught between instinct and curiosity. She had no idea why he let her pass so simply. But time was short, and she couldn’t afford to dwell on the oddity of his actions.

Pushing the encounter from her mind, she focused on the task ahead. The path narrowed as she moved deeper into the boat, dim lights flickering overhead. The air felt charged with anticipation, her pulse quickening with each step she took.

Finally, she found the room she had been searching for—a cramped space at the rear of the vessel, where Zak was likely plotting his next move. She took a deep breath, steeling herself before pushing the door open.

The sight that met her eyes sent a chill down her spine. Zak stood at a table littered with blueprints, maps, and weapon schematics. His back was turned, but she could sense his self-satisfied energy, as if he knew he was always a step ahead.

“Zak,” she called out, her voice echoing off the walls, strong yet laced with anger.

He turned slowly, a calculating smile creeping across his face. “Ah, the brave little spy has come to face me. I was wondering when you’d find your way here.”

“What have you done?” she demanded, her voice rising with indignation. “Your operation is over. I’m not letting you escape this time.”

“Escape?” He chuckled softly, a sound that grated on her nerves. “You don’t understand, do you? This is just the beginning. I’ve built something bigger than you can imagine. You’re just a pawn in a game far beyond your comprehension.”

“You’re delusional,” she spat back, fists clenched at her sides. “You’re hurting people. This needs to end.”

Zak stepped closer, his expression shifting from amusement to a cold menace. “And what makes you think you have the power to stop me? I control everything now.”

She held her ground, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “I’m not afraid of you, Zak. I came here to finish this.”

Suddenly, there was a deafening bang that shattered the tension in the room, shattering the glass. Zak staggered back, eyes wide with shock, his hands instinctively reaching for his chest.

“Wha—” he gasped, confusion etched on his face. Then he crumpled forward, crashing onto the table, knocking over the maps that had guided him for so long.

“What the hell?” she breathed, her heart racing as disbelief washed over her.

But before she could react, she glanced out the now shattered window and felt her stomach drop. There, standing in the shadows, was Lando—his rifle aimed precisely at Zak’s fallen form. The realisation hit her like a punch to the gut.

“Lando!” she shouted.

He straightened from his position, rifle still smoking. With an almost theatrical flair, he saluted her, a grin spreading across his face. The light flickered, casting eerie shadows on his features. Then, without warning, he toppled backward off the edge of the boat, disappearing into the inky black water below.

“No!” she screamed, rushing to the edge, dread pooling in her stomach. The chaotic swirl of emotions made her head spin. “What just happened?”

As her mind struggled to process the events, she looked back at Zak's body, the horror of his lifeless form sinking in. Why had Lando done that? Was this part of some twisted plan?

Her comms crackled to life, Lewis’s urgent voice breaking through her shock. “What’s happening? Report!”

“Lando shot Zak!” she shouted into the device, her voice trembling with disbelief. “He’s dead! But Lando—he’s gone. He just fell into the water.”

“Get out of there! We’re coming to you!” Lewis ordered, urgency evident in his tone.

The room felt like it was closing in on her, the weight of the moment settling heavily on her chest. She turned her gaze back to the water, her heart racing. Was Lando really gone? What was happening? The implications of Zak’s death and Lando’s actions churned in her mind, a whirlwind of confusion and dread.

“Copy that,” she said, trying to sound steady. “I’m moving out.”

As she retreated from the room, adrenaline surged through her veins. She had to escape, to regroup with her team, and to figure out what had just transpired. She dashed down the narrow corridor, her footsteps echoing in the silence.

Panic surged as she made her way toward the exit, the weight of what had just occurred pushing down on her. She had lost Zak, but what had Lando’s actions meant for her?

Just as she reached the exit, an alarm blared through the boat, red lights flashing ominously. Her heart raced. They knew she was there. The mission had been compromised.

Rushing onto the deck, she scanned the horizon, looking for her team. In the distance, she could see the faint outlines of their boat approaching, but she needed to buy herself time.

Suddenly, gunfire erupted from behind her, bullets whizzing past as she ducked for cover. Her instincts kicked in, and she moved swiftly along the edge of the boat, using the crates as shields. The chaos surrounding her felt surreal, the adrenaline surging with each heartbeat.

“Stay low!” she shouted into her comms as she crouched behind a crate. “I’m pinned down!”

“On our way!” Lewis replied, his voice steady despite the situation.

She could see shadows moving on the deck, agents sent to intercept her. They were closing in fast, and she knew she had to make a choice.

Drawing a deep breath, she steadied herself and sprinted toward the railing. With a leap, she dove into the water, plunging beneath the surface, hoping to evade her pursuers. The cold enveloped her, and she kicked hard, propelling herself away from the boat, desperate to reach the safety of her team.

Surfacing, she gasped for air, her heart pounding. The distant lights of their boat flickered like stars in the darkness, a beacon of hope. As she swam toward it, her mind raced with questions.

What had Lando’s actions meant? Why had he let her go? Was he playing a double game, or was there something more complex at work?

When she finally reached the side of the boat, hands gripping the edge, she hoisted herself up, gasping for breath as she clambered aboard. Lewis and George were waiting for her, concern etched on their faces.

“What happened?” Lewis demanded, urgency in his tone.

“Zak’s dead. Lando shot him,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “But I don’t know why he did it. He just… vanished into the water.”

George exchanged a glance with Lewis, confusion evident. “And you’re sure he’s gone?”

“I saw him fall,” she insisted, a knot tightening in her stomach. “But why? What was his plan?”

“First things first, we need to regroup,” Lewis said, glancing back toward the now-quiet boat. “We need to figure out what just happened and how we’re going to deal with the fallout.”

“What if he’s not dead?” she muttered, her mind racing with possibilities. “What if this was all part of his game?”

Lewis shook his head. “We can’t think like that. We need to focus on what we do know: Zak is out of the picture, and that’s one less threat we have to worry about.”

“Let’s get back to the safe house,” she said, determination settling in her chest. “We need to figure out our next move.”

As the boat sped away from the scene of chaos, its engine roared as they made their way back to the safe house. The atmosphere was tense, filled with the unspoken questions swirling among the team. She leaned against the side of the boat, heart still racing as she tried to piece together the fragments of what had just happened. One thing was sure.

Shit just got complicated.

“Do you think Lando was playing us?” George asked, his brow furrowed. “Or was this all a setup?”

Lewis shook his head, clearly frustrated. “We need to focus on Zak’s death for now. If Lando shot him, it changes everything. We need to report to Toto. He’ll know how to handle this.”

As they arrived at the safe house, a modest cabin tucked away in the woods, the familiar scent of pine mingled with the anxiety that hung thick in the air. She stepped inside, scanning the room, her heart still heavy with uncertainty.

Toto was already there, pacing back and forth, the shadows dancing across his worried face. “What the hell happened out there?” he demanded as soon as they entered, his eyes narrowing at her.

“Zak is dead,” she said, voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “But Lando—he shot him and then just… disappeared. I have no idea why he let me go.”

“Disappeared?” Toto echoed, disbelief flashing in his eyes. “Lando is a loose cannon. He shouldn’t have been there in the first place! He’s always been unpredictable, but now this?”

Lewis stepped forward, urgency evident in his tone. “He shot Zak, but we have no idea where he is or what he’s planning. We need to find him before he decides to make another move.”

“Lando has always seemed to have his own agenda,” Toto said, running a hand through his hair, frustration mounting. “I’ll contact our sources. We need to know if he’s gone rogue or if he’s working with us.”

She felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. What if Lando was working with them? What if he had a plan of his own?

Before anyone could respond, Lewis opened the door to the kitchen, all heads turned to the sound they heard, guns instinctively drawn.

But what they saw stopped them cold.

Lando sat casually at the table in his tactical gear, hair wet, legs swinging like a child’s, a half-eaten biscuit in his hand. He looked utterly relaxed, a stark contrast to the chaos of the past few hours.

“I really thought you were better at this,” he said with a playful smirk, taking another bite of his biscuit.

“Lando!” she exclaimed, shock mixing with anger. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

In an instant, all of them had their weapons trained on him, fingers hovering over triggers. Toto’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “You shouldn’t be here. We thought you were—”

“Dead?” Lando interjected, chuckling softly as he raised his hands in mock surrender. “No need for any of that.” He leaned back slightly, his expression shifting to something more serious. “I come with the antidote.”

“Antidote?” Lewis echoed, still aiming his gun at Lando. “What are you talking about?”

“For Zak’s plan,” Lando replied, the lightheartedness fading from his voice. “I knew he had something cooking up—something dangerous that would have put all of you at risk if you hadn’t stopped him. I just didn’t think you’d be this reckless in the process.”

“Reckless?” she snapped, frustration boiling over. “You shot him! What’s your angle?”

Lando shrugged, still relaxed. “I didn’t want him to have the chance to activate whatever he had in place. That’s where the antidote comes in. I’ve got the means to reverse his effects—he had plans for you, you know. Something that could’ve turned you into a puppet for him.”

The room fell silent, confusion mingling with curiosity. She could see doubt flickering in Toto’s eyes, and it was clear that Lando’s presence had thrown them all off balance.

“What do you mean?” Toto finally asked, lowering his gun slightly, though still on guard.

“Zak had an entire operation designed to brainwash agents,” Lando explained, his tone now grave. “You wouldn’t have even known you were under his control. I had to take him out before he could flip the switch.”

“Why should we trust you?” she challenged, her heart racing. “You’ve been a wildcard this entire time.”

Lando sighed, clearly exasperated. “Because I’ve saved your asses. Zak was a threat, but he wasn’t the only one. I couldn’t let you fall into his trap. If you think I’m playing both sides, then fine. But I’m here to help, whether you believe it or not.”

“What’s the antidote?” Lewis asked, scepticism still evident in his voice but curiosity piqued.

Lando leaned forward, his eyes locking onto hers. “I’ve got the formula, and I need your help to distribute it to the right people. We need to move quickly. The longer we wait, the more dangerous this gets.”

She exchanged glances with her teammates, weighing their options. Could they trust him?

Finally, Toto nodded, his decision made. “Alright, let’s hear what you have to say. But know this, Lando: one wrong move, and we won’t hesitate to take you down.”

With that, Lando leaned back, a hint of a grin returning to his face. “Now that’s more like it. Let’s get to work.”

As the tension in the room began to ease, she felt a flicker of hope. They might have lost Zak, but if Lando was telling the truth, they had a chance to stop whatever he had planned next. The stakes were high, and the clock was ticking.

“Let’s get the details sorted,” she said, determination flooding her voice. “We need to be ready for anything.”

As they gathered around the table, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of a much larger game—a game that would test their loyalties and strength in ways they had never imagined.

The antidote was handed off to the medics without hesitation, each of them glancing nervously at Toto before they hurried to Oscar’s room. The atmosphere was taut as a wire as the team waited, tension thick in the air. She stood by the door, her eyes following the medics as they prepared the injection.

“You have 100% faith this will work?” she asked Lando, voice low but seething with barely contained anger.

Lando looked back at her, his face unusually serious. “Yes,” he said firmly. “It will help him. I’ve seen it work before. Everyone has their own reaction, but it works.”

Before she could respond, one of the medics announced, “Administering the antidote.” They pressed the syringe into Oscar’s arm, and the room fell into a charged silence. Every eye was on him, watching for any sign of change. For a moment, nothing happened.

And then, in an instant, Oscar convulsed, his body seizing with such violence it took two of the medics to hold him down. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face contorted in pain as they tried to steady him. She felt her heart drop, terror racing through her as he gasped, choking on his own breath.

“What’s happening?” she demanded, her voice rising in panic. “Is this supposed to happen?”

“We don’t know yet,” one of the medics muttered, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he worked. But before anyone could say more, Oscar’s body stilled, and he sank back against the bed, his chest barely moving. The heart monitor next to him let out a slow, irregular beep.

One of the medics shook his head, looking at her with pity. “He’s slipped into a coma.”

The words were a punch to the gut. She turned to Lando, fury blazing in her eyes. “A coma?” she spat, stepping forward, fists clenched. “This was your cure? This was your help?”

Lando started to speak, but she didn’t let him finish. Rage overtaking her, she swung her fist at him, landing a blow against his jaw. He stumbled back, and she followed, pushing him against the wall as she fought the urge to keep swinging.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” she shouted, voice cracking as her hand trembled. “You said you had the answer. You swore this was the cure!”

Lando looked up at her, hand to his bruised jaw, eyes narrowed with frustration. “It is the antidote! I’m sure of it. He’s not in danger; his body just needs time to adjust—”

“Time to adjust?” she cut in, practically trembling with fury. “You said it would help him, and now he’s comatose!”

Lando’s jaw tightened as he straightened up, his expression a mix of frustration and desperation. “I didn’t want this any more than you did!” he snapped, his voice rising to match hers. “Do you think I’d go through all this just to hurt him? You’re not the only one who cares about him, you know. He’s my friend too! I’ve sabotaged my entire career, my life, over him too.”

She felt her anger falter, replaced by a raw, painful mix of confusion and disbelief. “You… what?”

Lando looked away, exhaling harshly as he struggled to control his emotions. “I did this because he matters to me,” he said, voice thick with a sincerity she hadn’t seen in him before. “I’ve been one step ahead of Zak because I knew the only way to keep him safe was to take control. I wouldn’t risk him for anything.”

She searched his face, looking for any hint of deception, but all she saw was a bitter sort of pain. Her anger cooled slightly, replaced by a tense, uneasy silence.

“Then prove it,” she finally said, voice low. “If you really care, you’ll stay by his side until he wakes up, and you’ll take responsibility for what happens if he doesn’t.”

Lando nodded, his expression resolute. “I’ll stay. And he will wake up. I promise you that.”

She held his gaze for a moment longer, then turned away, feeling her pulse gradually steady as the anger drained from her. Whether or not she believed him, there was nothing she could do now except wait—and hope that Lando’s gamble was worth the risk.

The room fell silent as the medics continued their work, each of them carefully monitoring Oscar’s every breath.

She left the medical room, her body feeling heavy and her mind whirling from the past hour. Pausing just outside, she glanced back through the small window in the door. Lando had positioned himself on the floor beside Oscar’s bed, his back against the wall, legs pulled up, and his face buried in his hands. The cocky edge he usually carried was gone, replaced by something sombre and unguarded.

With a heavy sigh, she continued down the hall to the main briefing room, where Toto, George, and Lewis were waiting, eyes filled with concern. She took a moment to steady herself before joining them.

Toto was the first to speak. “How’s Oscar?”

“In a coma,” she said, feeling the weight of each word. “The medics are watching him, but… we don’t know when he’ll wake up. Or even if he’ll fully come back.”

Toto’s jaw tightened as he took in the news. “And Lando? You still trust his story?”

She folded her arms, unsure of her own answer. “He’s… by Oscar’s side. Says he cares about him, and that everything he did was to protect him. I don’t know if I believe him, but…” Her voice faltered. “I think he’s telling the truth.”

Lewis scratched his chin, considering this. “Well, we’ve seen Lando’s loyalty to Oscar firsthand. He’s one hell of a sniper and kept Zak off our backs tonight.”

She shot him a look, her expression incredulous. “You’re not saying he should become one of us, are you?”

Lewis shrugged. “He’s burned all his other bridges. And he’s already risked his own career to keep Oscar alive. The question is whether we can use his skills and if he’d even be willing.”

George nodded, though he seemed more hesitant. “He’s ruined all his other chances trying to save Oscar. We don’t have many people with that kind of dedication. He might be reckless, but he’s got guts.”

Toto looked thoughtful, weighing their arguments. His gaze lingered on her, as though searching her face for a decision she hadn’t yet made. “If we bring him in, we’d be responsible for him,” he said finally. “You’ve seen more of him than the rest of us. What’s your call?”

She hesitated, the weight of the choice settling over her. Lando’s decision to shoot Zak had saved their lives tonight. He’d turned his back on everything for Oscar’s sake, yet the damage he’d caused left her conflicted.

“We don’t know what he’s planning,” she said carefully. “If he’s willing to share what he knows, and if he proves he’s in this for the right reasons…” She trailed off, glancing back in the direction of Oscar’s room. “Maybe we give him a shot. But only if he earns it.”

Toto nodded, folding his hands as if he’d expected her answer. “Then we’ll keep him close for now. If he wants to help, he’ll follow our rules and go through our training. But the minute he shows any hint of crossing us…”

“We take him out,” George finished with a grim nod.

She glanced one last time toward the hallway, an odd sense of foreboding mixed with the lingering weight of relief. Lando had put them all at risk, but if he truly wanted redemption—and if he could deliver on his promise to save Oscar—maybe they could turn his loyalty to their side.

Lewis’ voice broke her train of thought. “So, what’s next, then? We wait on Oscar’s recovery, and keep an eye on our new ‘ally’?”

“Keep him close,” Toto agreed. “Get him familiar with the team’s layout, but don’t let him see the real intel until we’re sure. And if he even thinks about double-crossing us, we don’t hesitate.”

As they spoke, she caught George’s eye. He gave a slight nod, something between caution and reassurance, and she realised the others had reached the same uneasy compromise she had.

Just then, a door down the hall creaked open. Lando emerged, looking worn and strangely vulnerable, as if he had left a part of his hardened exterior back in the room with Oscar. He glanced around and spotted them in the briefing room, his expression unreadable. For a moment, they all stood in silence, tension thickening the air once again.

She stepped forward, arms crossed, and met his gaze. “Lando. Toto has decided to give you a chance. But let me be clear: this is a test. You’re only here because you saved our lives tonight. But if you put us in jeopardy again, you won’t get another chance.”

Lando nodded, his eyes momentarily flickering with relief. “I understand,” he said simply, hands at his sides, an unusual openness in his demeanour.

Toto gestured toward a chair by the door, his voice sharp. “Sit down, Lando. I want to hear exactly what you know—no edits, no omissions. Start with Zak’s plans, and leave nothing out.”

Lando took the chair, leaned forward, and clasped his hands together, his gaze unwavering. “With Zak gone, a scramble will start. His lieutenants are already positioning themselves to take over. There’s a handful who have been waiting for an opportunity like this. If they consolidate control, they could be more dangerous than Zak ever was.”

Her interest piqued as she listened, nodding to herself as pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. “So we cut them off before they can regroup?”

“Exactly,” Lando replied, meeting her gaze. “One of his top lieutenants is already planning to take over. A man named Andrea Stella—he’s ruthless and has been at Zak’s side for years. If he consolidates Zak’s power base, we’ll be dealing with a much bigger threat.”

Toto considered this, a gleam of determination in his eye. “Then Andrea is our target. We dismantle what’s left of Zak’s network from the inside, starting with the lieutenants.”

Lewis cracked his knuckles, a glint of excitement sparking in his eyes. “Finally, something straightforward. Cut off the heads, and the body will fall.”

George chimed in, more cautious. “But Andrea will have protection, likely Zak’s best operatives. We need a plan that uses every bit of Lando’s intel.”

Toto nodded in agreement, looking at Lando with an expectant gaze. “This is your chance to prove yourself, Lando. You know Zak’s people better than any of us. Map out Andrea’s assets, his known allies, and his weaknesses.”

Lando nodded, already reaching for a piece of paper. “Andrea has two primary safehouses, one in Berlin and one in Prague. The Berlin safehouse is easier to access—it’s where he keeps his logistics team. The one in Prague… that’s where he’ll go if he’s expecting trouble. It’s more fortified.”

Toto looked back to the team, his expression resolute. “You have your targets. We’ll split into two groups—one to hit Berlin and disrupt Andrea’s logistics, the other to prepare for Prague in case he tries to make a run for it.”

She nodded, adrenaline beginning to stir. The mission had just taken on a new level of intensity, with Zak’s death opening up opportunities for both freedom and danger. Her mind flashed briefly to Oscar’s room, where he lay unmoving.

But if they dismantled Andrea’s power structure, Oscar’s chances of waking up to a world without Zak’s shadow grew that much stronger.

“Alright,” she said, sharing a determined glance with her teammates. “We’re doing this. Let’s finish what Zak started and make sure no one takes his place.”

PRAGUE - TWO NIGHTS LATER 

The night air was sharp on the rooftop in Prague, the glow of city lights casting a soft haze over the streets below. She sat next to Lando, both watching the entrance of Andrea’s safehouse across the way. Silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of traffic and a lone dog barking. They’d been up here for hours, waiting for signs of movement, waiting for Andrea to show.

As the minutes dragged on, she glanced over at Lando. His face was unusually still, a hardness settled in his eyes that seemed more complex than the usual determination of a mission. She thought back to the last few days, how he’d lingered by Oscar’s side, how he’d gone against everything to bring the antidote, even at the risk of his own life. It gnawed at her, how little she really knew about him, and before she could stop herself, the words slipped out.

“Why’d you do it? Betray Zak, go against your own orders…risk everything?”

Lando didn’t answer right away. He kept his gaze on the street below, then let out a quiet sigh, as if the question had settled into him, forcing out an old wound he’d long since hidden. Finally, he spoke.

“Oscar and I… we came into this at the same time. We were both eleven when we met Zak. They don’t usually bring kids into this life that young, but we weren’t typical recruits. Came from broken homes, no family, no stability. We were Zak’s new toys. The latest in his collection. We listened, we obeyed…we did it all.”

She felt a pang of something—sympathy, anger, a sense of understanding she hadn’t expected. Zak had taken them so young, so vulnerable, moulding them into tools, spies with no choice but to follow his orders.

Unlike her, she had a choice and she took it at 18.

She wanted to say something but stayed silent, knowing he had more to tell.

“Oscar looked after me,” Lando continued, his voice quieter now. “I was older, but he always… protected me, in a way. On the days I screwed up and wasn’t allowed dinner, he’d sneak half his plate my way. Stubborn kid,” he added with a half-smile. “No matter how much I told him to take care of himself first, he just… wouldn’t. He thought of me as family, and…well, that changed everything.”

She was taken aback, her mind spinning as she pieced together the full weight of what Oscar had meant to Lando. Oscar had never spoken of this side of his past—of how he’d been moulded, of the sacrifices he’d made, even as a child. And here was Lando, older, colder, but quietly haunted by a loyalty that ran so deep it had shaped his entire life.

“What Zak did to us,” Lando continued, his voice rougher now, “I don’t think you can ever walk away from that. Not completely. But Oscar… he still found a way to be good. To care. He wanted a way out for both of us, even before we knew there was one.”

She felt something sharp twist inside her chest. Suddenly, Lando’s actions—the betrayal, the risks he’d taken to bring Oscar back—made sense in a way she couldn’t have imagined. To Lando, saving Oscar was more than just about loyalty; it was about holding onto the one piece of humanity he still had left.

She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “I never realised it meant that much to you.”

Lando shrugged, the hardened expression slipping back into place, but she caught the brief flicker of vulnerability. “Oscar was the only real family I had. He’s the only person I’d risk this much for. And now… with Zak gone, maybe it means he’ll finally get the freedom he’s wanted all his life.”

They fell into silence again, but it was heavier, fuller now. She felt her own loyalty to Oscar deepen, if that were possible, understanding how he’d shaped not only her but also those around him.

Just then, a light flickered across the way, snapping them back to the mission. Andrea was moving through the entrance, surrounded by bodyguards. Their momentary reprieve was over.

Lando straightened, pulling out his weapon, a renewed determination in his eyes. “We’ll do this, and make sure Zak’s legacy dies with Andrea.”

She took a steadying breath, nodding as her focus sharpened. “Alright. We’re doing this.”

She hesitated, looking at Lando, the weight of their conversation pressing against her chest. After a pause, she reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "You deserve to be happy too, you know. After everything Zak put you through… you deserve a chance to live your own life."

Lando gave a small, almost sad smile, the kind that made her heart ache. “I’ll be happy once you and Oscar get your lives back. That’s the least he deserves. I owe him that much… maybe more.”

Before she could respond, a shadow moved near the safehouse door, and they both tensed, their hands instinctively going to their weapons.

“Alright,” he murmured, glancing down through the scope on his rifle. “That’s Andrea’s main man, he’s going in. Andrea is coming around. You go down there, hold his attention. Give me a clear shot, and I’ll handle the rest.”

She nodded, steadying herself, and slipped off the rooftop, making her way down to street level. Every step forward tightened the knot in her stomach, but the memory of Oscar—and now Lando’s story—pushed her forward. Andrea was the last piece of Zak’s empire that could threaten them, and she was ready to end it.

When she stepped into the dimly lit alley beside the safehouse, Andrea was waiting, his face flickering with recognition.

“You,” he sneered, his voice low and threatening. “I should have known they’d send you.”

Feigning a smirk, she held his gaze, keeping her tone casual. “What can I say? Some of us are harder to kill than others.”

Andrea chuckled, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing as he sized her up. She could almost feel Lando’s crosshairs tracing Andrea’s movements from above. She just had to keep Andrea talking, keep his attention on her.

“I know you’re alone,” he said, voice full of confidence. “You think you’re clever, but you’re just a desperate little soldier without a leader now. And Zak’s network? It’s not going anywhere. There will always be someone else to fill his shoes.”

“Really?” she shot back, a calmness washing over her. “Because from where I stand, the empire you’re trying to build looks a lot like a house of cards. One wrong move, and it’ll come crashing down. Starting with you.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but in that instant, she saw his expression change, his eyes widening slightly. She felt the tension in the air, braced herself—and then the shot rang out.

Andrea dropped, a clean, decisive shot to the head. She looked up, catching a brief flash of movement as Lando lowered his rifle, nodding toward her from the rooftop.

Taking a deep breath, she spoke into her earpiece. “Target down. Andrea is gone. Let’s get out of here.”

Lando joined her a few moments later, his face calm but resolute. She caught his eye, a shared look of relief passing between them.

“It’s over,” he said quietly. For the first time, she saw a glimmer of something lighter, something like hope, in his expression.

She let the words sink in, a strange mix of relief and disbelief washing over her. “It really is, isn’t it?” she murmured, more to herself than to Lando. The empire Zak built, the one that had stolen her life, Oscar’s life, even Lando’s—finally, it was over.

They slipped through the shadows of the narrow Prague alleyways, leaving Andrea’s safehouse and the remnants of Zak’s power crumbling behind them before someone saw them. As they neared the extraction point, the silence between them grew heavier with unspoken thoughts, both of them reflecting on what lay ahead.

Once they reached the dimly lit side street where their car waited, Lando slowed his pace, his gaze distant.

“Do you think…” he began, then stopped, shaking his head slightly. “Do you think Oscar will be able to let this all go? After everything?”

She took a deep breath, thinking about the man she’d loved and the ways Zak had shaped him, twisting his loyalty and kindness into a weapon. But Lando was right; there was still a part of Oscar that had always hoped, always wanted something more. She smiled faintly.

“If anyone can, it’s him. He’s been through hell and still kept his heart intact.” She looked up at Lando. “But that goes for you, too.”

Lando chuckled softly, shaking his head as he opened the car door for her. “I think I lost my heart a long time ago,” he said with a smirk, but she caught the flicker of doubt in his eyes, a vulnerability that had been stripped bare over years of loyalty and sacrifice.

She turned to him, her gaze unwavering. “Maybe. But you just put yourself on the line to save someone you care about. That’s not something a heartless person does.”

Lando considered her words, giving a small, reluctant nod as he settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The car rumbled to life, and they pulled out onto the narrow, winding roads of Prague, slipping through the quiet city as it slept.

The weight of Andrea’s death, of the mission’s success, lingered in the air between them as they drove, each lost in their own thoughts. She watched the cityscape slip by, mind drifting to the future—one that felt less like a dream and more like something she could almost touch.

Finally, Lando broke the silence, his voice quieter. “You and Oscar gonna leave after this?”

“Yeah,” she replied, feeling a swell of emotion she barely kept in check. “I’ll go back to him. Help him heal, be there while he figures out… what comes next.”

Lando’s gaze softened, a strange sense of peace settling over his features. “Then I guess… I’ll see this through too. I don’t know what’s waiting for me, but I know what I’ve been running from. Time to stop running.”

She reached over, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. “Then maybe you should come back with us. At least for now.”

Lando looked at her, a flicker of surprise giving way to an almost boyish smile, a glimmer of the young man he’d once been. “Maybe I will.”

They fell into silence once more, but this time it was comfortable, a quiet peace settling between them as they left Prague behind, ready to face whatever came next together.

The drive back was long and filled with an anxious hope as they wound through the countryside toward the safe house. The mission’s success hadn’t erased her worries—Oscar was still fighting for his life, and no amount of victories over their enemies could fix the fragility of his recovery. When they finally arrived, a medic was waiting at the door, his face carefully neutral but carrying the slight, telltale signs of positive news.

“He’s stable,” the medic reported as they stepped inside, “and his vitals are improving. But he’s still unresponsive.” He glanced between her and Lando, understanding their urgency. “You can go in. It might help him to hear familiar voices.”

She nodded, glancing at Lando, who offered a small, encouraging nod in return, as if grounding her. Together, they made their way to the infirmary room where Oscar lay, silent and still, his face more peaceful than it had been in a long time. She took the seat by his bed, pulling it close, her hand instinctively reaching for his. Lando stood at the foot of the bed, quiet and watchful.

The room was filled with the soft beeping of monitors, a rhythmic pulse that was both a comfort and a reminder of the stakes they still faced. She brushed a strand of hair from Oscar’s forehead, her fingers lingering, gentle and protective.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice trembling just slightly. “We did it, Oscar. Andrea is gone, and Zak’s empire… it’s finished. You’re safe now. We’re safe.”

Beside her, Lando watched, his expression unreadable but softened. After a pause, he moved to take the chair next to hers, leaning forward, elbows on his knees as he looked at Oscar, his voice low but steady.

“You always had my back, kid,” he murmured, his voice rougher than usual. “Even when I didn’t deserve it. Now I’ve got yours. I’ll be here… just like you always were for me.”

Silence fell over the room, each of them lost in memories, in hope, in unspoken promises. She leaned closer to Oscar, her fingers entwining with his, as if willing him to feel the warmth of her touch, the weight of her presence.

The medic came back in, checking Oscar’s monitors, his expression calm but unhurried, like he’d done this a thousand times. “If he’s hearing anything, it’s the voices of those closest to him that will bring him back,” he offered softly. “If anyone can do that, it’s the two of you.”

She glanced over at Lando, who nodded in agreement, the intensity in his gaze softened with something like gratitude. Together, they sat vigil by Oscar’s side, filling the room with quiet stories and shared memories, fighting their own exhaustion, hoping that somewhere in the dark, he was making his way back to them.

The hours blurred together in the quiet of the room. Shadows stretched along the walls as night settled in, but neither she nor Lando had moved. The medic had come and gone, checking Oscar’s vitals with reassuring nods, but the wait was wearing on them. She squeezed Oscar’s hand, brushing her thumb gently over his knuckles, as if the warmth of her touch alone could pull him back.

As the clock ticked on, she began to speak again, letting her voice fill the stillness.

“Do you remember the cabin on the coast?” she murmured, her voice soft and soothing. “Those mornings we had, just us… No missions, no agencies breathing down our necks. You’d make that terrible instant coffee, and we’d sit out there like nothing else mattered.”

She smiled, eyes misty as she thought back to the peace they’d found there, however brief. She could feel Lando listening beside her, his presence a quiet reassurance.

“You kept saying you wanted a place like that for real,” she continued, voice breaking slightly. “Somewhere we could disappear to, where no one would ever find us. Well, we made it through, Oscar. You got us there.”

For a moment, silence fell again, and the only sound was the steady beeping of the monitor, each pulse a tether to the man she loved. She closed her eyes, breathing slowly, letting the weight of exhaustion press against her but refusing to surrender to it.

Lando, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, shifted in his seat, leaning forward, his eyes fixed on Oscar.

“Oscar,” he said, his tone low but full of determination. “Look, I know we’ve been through hell together, but I think you’re just showing off now. Making us sit here, wondering if you’re gonna wake up…” He paused, taking a shaky breath. “Come on, mate. Just… open your eyes.”

The words lingered in the air, heavy with unsaid things, a lifetime’s worth of loyalty and brotherhood distilled into those few sentences. And just as she was about to give in to the quiet again, something shifted—a faint squeeze, barely there, but unmistakable.

Her heart skipped as she looked down, fingers tightening around his hand. “Oscar?”

The first flicker of life in Oscar’s eyes felt like a miracle. She tightened her grip on his hand as he blinked slowly, his gaze beginning to focus, like he was pulling himself back from somewhere distant and dark. His fingers moved in hers, weak but warm, and her heart leapt.

“Oscar,” she whispered, leaning closer, barely daring to breathe. “It’s me.”

His eyes, still heavy with exhaustion, met hers, and a faint, familiar warmth flickered there. His lips parted, but the words came only as a faint rasp. “You… you’re here.”

At the sound of his voice, she let out a shaky breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. Tears blurred her vision as she nodded, holding his hand to her cheek. “We’re here, Oscar. I’m here.” Her words caught in her throat, a tangled mix of love, relief, and all the things she’d thought she might never have the chance to say again.

Beside her, Lando had been standing at a respectful distance, a quiet, steady presence. But as Oscar’s gaze shifted, recognizing him, a small, amused glint appeared in his tired eyes.

“You’re… both here?” Oscar murmured, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, and she heard the hint of teasing in his voice. “That’s… quite the welcome party.”

Lando let out a quiet chuckle, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Wouldn’t have missed it, mate.” His tone was light, but his expression was taut, almost uncertain, as if he wasn’t sure whether to stay or slip out and let them have their moment.

Sensing this, Lando began to step back, nodding toward her. “I’ll give you two—”

“No,” she said softly, her gaze turning to him, the conviction in her voice quiet but steady. “Stay.”

Lando stopped, visibly taken aback, his expression betraying the slightest hint of surprise. For a moment, he looked at her as if he hadn’t quite heard right, his usual stoic exterior cracking just a little, his eyes shimmering with something raw and unguarded. He gave her a nod, a subtle motion of understanding, though his voice caught slightly. “Alright,” he murmured, sinking back into his chair beside them.

Oscar’s fingers tightened around hers as he watched the exchange, a tired but knowing look passing over his face. He took a shaky breath, shifting his gaze between them. “Seems like… I owe you both.”

Her grip on his hand tightened as she glanced from him to Lando, the weight of everything they’d endured heavy in the air between them. “Oscar… you don’t owe us anything,” she whispered, the intensity of her own words surprising her. “We’re just glad you’re here.”

Lando nodded, his gaze locked on Oscar. “Yeah, you’ve been doing enough for everyone for too long,” he said, voice soft but steady. “It’s your turn to just… be. Heal.”

Oscar looked at them both, an unspoken gratitude shimmering in his eyes, but there was also something else—a deep trust, a quiet acceptance that the three of them were bound in ways words couldn’t capture.

He exhaled, letting his head rest back against the pillow, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion, but for the first time, a faint, peaceful smile graced his face. And in that moment, with Lando at her side, she felt a quiet reassurance settle in her heart. Together, they would help him heal, each of them carrying a part of the burden, just as they always had.

Oscar looked between them, eyes flickering with a familiar sharpness, though the exhaustion clung to him. “Alright,” he rasped, his voice a little stronger, “so who’s gonna tell me what the hell I missed? Because knowing you two… I’m guessing it’s not nothing.”

She smiled, warmth and relief evident as she exchanged a glance with Lando. “Where do we even start?” she said, squeezing Oscar’s hand gently. “It’s been… eventful.”

Lando let out a quiet laugh, shrugging as he leaned back in his chair. “Eventful is one word for it.”

With a bit more strength, Oscar’s lips quirked into a smirk as he focused on Lando. “So, go on then. Give me the rundown, you muppet. What did you do?”

Lando winced, laughing softly. “I had it under control. Mostly.” He paused, looking slightly sheepish. “I may have… bent a few rules.”

“Bent?” Oscar raised a brow, incredulity softening into amusement. “Mate, you blew the rules to pieces, didn’t you?”

She laughed, nodding. “He’s right, you did. We had Zak’s whole operation on our backs, remember?”

Lando rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of pride there. “Well, it was necessary, wasn’t it? Zak needed taking down, and it was… efficient.”

Oscar shook his head, the faint smile lingering as he squeezed her hand. “Efficient. That’s what we’re calling it now?”

She nodded, filling in the rest. “Efficient and risky. Lando worked out a plan to intercept Zak, took us on an intel dive across three countries, and then pulled off a takedown that… well, let’s just say it wasn’t part of any mission plan.”

“Got Zak out of the picture,” Lando added, shrugging like it was nothing. “And got you the antidote.”

“About that…” Oscar tilted his head, eyeing Lando with a spark of mock accusation. “You just couldn’t resist a grand entrance with that antidote, could you?”

Lando feigned innocence, lifting his hands. “Had to make sure you’d remember it, didn’t I? Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Only because I was unconscious,” Oscar shot back, laughing weakly, though he winced as the laugh brought on a wave of fatigue.

“Alright, you two.” She leaned forward, brushing Oscar’s hair back gently, her eyes filled with a warmth that anchored him. “Lando might be a complete muppet, but he did it for you, Oscar. And we all made it out, somehow.”

Oscar’s gaze softened, moving from her to Lando, his expression one of profound gratitude, quiet but unmistakable. “I can’t… thank you enough. Both of you. For everything.”

“No need for that, mate,” Lando said, his voice unusually gentle, a slight tremor in it. “We don’t leave our own behind.”

SEVEN YEARS LATER

The soft light of the late afternoon settled over their hillside home, casting a warm glow across the kitchen where she stood, gazing out at the endless blue sea. A gentle breeze slipped through the open window, bringing with it the faint scent of wild thyme and olive trees. She placed a hand over her stomach, feeling the subtle curve there—a quiet reminder of all that had changed in these last few years.

She smiled to herself, so lost in the peace of the moment that she didn’t hear Oscar approach until his arms circled around her waist, his hand coming to rest over hers. He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her shoulder, and she felt him smile against her skin.

“Hey, mama,” he murmured, voice soft and full of warmth as his hand gently rubbed over her growing belly. “You two enjoying the view?”

She leaned back into him, feeling a quiet contentment settle over her as she placed her hand over his. “Always. Though, I think I might be enjoying it a little more than this one.” She gave her belly a gentle pat, smiling. “Feels like I’m carrying a future kickboxer in there.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating warmly against her. “Takes after you, then,” he teased, brushing a kiss to her temple. “Strong, resilient… and definitely a little stubborn.”

She turned to face him, her eyes softening as she looked up at him. “And maybe a little of you too, hmm?” She reached up, tracing a hand along his jaw, her gaze reflecting the love and gratitude she felt for the life they’d built here, the peace they’d fought so hard for.

Before he could respond, they heard the front door swing open, followed by a familiar, slightly exasperated voice calling out from the hallway.

“Oi, mate! You wouldn’t believe what happened down at the market,” Lando announced as he walked in, holding up a few bags of fresh produce. He wore an incredulous expression, his eyebrows raised as he looked between them. “I can’t tell if the butcher wanted to sell me fish or… shag me. He followed me halfway up the street. I swear, I need to learn Greek. Or find a disguise,” he added with a grin, dropping the bags onto the kitchen counter.

She laughed, shaking her head as she took in his flustered expression. “Maybe he just appreciates your… charm?”

“Or he thought you’d look nice in a seafood display,” Oscar teased, his hand still resting gently on her stomach.

Lando let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. “You two are impossible. I get followed home, and this is the thanks I get?” But the corners of his mouth tugged upward, and his eyes softened as he took in the peaceful scene before him.

The three of them fell into easy laughter, the warmth of their friendship filling the room as the sun sank lower on the horizon, painting everything in golden hues. This was the life they’d fought for—a quiet peace in a little corner of the world, shared laughter, and the promise of a new future nestled safely between them.

As their laughter faded, Oscar tugged her a little closer, his hand still protectively resting over her stomach. She placed her hand over his, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. He looked at her as if they were still those two undercover agents stealing moments in the shadows, as if this life they'd built still felt too good to be true.

Lando raised an eyebrow at the two of them, smirking. “You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?”

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” Oscar replied, turning to give Lando a pointed look. “Wait until you’re on baby duty, Uncle Lando.”

Lando feigned horror, hand over his heart. “Alright, well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. There’ll be no nappies in my future, thank you.”

She laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. “Oh, I don’t know. I think you’re going to be brilliant at it. All that practise dodging bullets and undercover work? Changing nappies will be a breeze.”

Lando scoffed but couldn’t hide his grin. “You two are going to turn me into a proper family man, aren’t you?”

“Think it’s a bit late for that, mate,” Oscar teased, squeezing her hand as he glanced over at Lando. “You’re already here, complaining about the market and fighting with the neighbour’s rooster.”

Lando let out a dramatic sigh, but the affection in his eyes was unmistakable. “Fine. Maybe I’m going soft in my old age.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, each of them taking in the moment. Lando moved to the window, staring out at the golden light on the water, his face softening in a way she hadn’t seen often. She felt a swell of gratitude for him, for the way he’d fought beside them and shared in the dreams they had hardly dared to voice.

“So,” Lando said after a moment, breaking the silence as he turned back to them, his tone light but his expression serious. “What are we having for dinner? Because if I see one more olive, I swear…”

She laughed, feeling that warmth in her heart grow. “Well, since you were so brave at the market, I think it’s only fair you get to cook tonight. Maybe something without olives?”

Oscar chuckled, releasing her hand to ruffle Lando’s hair. “You heard her. Best get to it, chef.”

Lando grumbled but headed toward the kitchen with a grin, opening cupboards and muttering as he began gathering ingredients. “I swear, first I’m babysitting, and now I’m cooking… What did I sign up for with you two?”

They shared another laugh, the kind that felt like home. She leaned against Oscar, contentment filling her as she watched Lando fuss in the kitchen, chopping and stirring, the whole house filled with the scent of fresh herbs and the laughter of family.

It was everything she’d once thought impossible—a simple life, a house full of love, a future unfolding in ways she’d never dared to imagine. And as the evening wore on, with candles flickering and laughter filling the room, she knew that this was the true victory, a happiness that even the most dangerous missions had never prepared her for.

As dinner simmered and the warm evening air drifted in through open windows, they gathered around the small kitchen table. Lando had put together a rustic stew with the market’s freshest ingredients, grumbling the entire time about how he was “wasting his tactical precision on chopping vegetables.”

She sat beside Oscar, resting her hand over his, feeling his steady warmth as she laughed at Lando’s commentary on the local produce.

Lando set the steaming pot on the table and glanced between them with a mock glare. “Alright, feast your eyes on what a former sniper can do with a tomato and some herbs. Just don’t tell me it’s not as good as the local food, or you’ll be getting rations next time.”

Oscar took a dramatic sniff, sighing as he ladled a bowl for her first, then one for himself. “Lando, I think you’ve found your true calling. That market bloke’s got nothing on you.”

Lando groaned, rolling his eyes. “Oh, so this is how it’s going to be now—two parents and a live-in chef?”

She grinned, shooting him a playful look. “Or uncle and professional bodyguard? You can even work on your Greek as a side gig. The locals will be lining up to hire you.”

“Oh, I’ll be unmissable,” he said, laughing as he took his seat across from them, a glimmer of real contentment in his eyes. He glanced over at her, nodding toward her belly. “This little one will be lucky to have you two. Even if their mum is as fierce as they come.”

Oscar gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing over her fingers as he smiled softly. “Well, maybe a bit of fierceness runs in the family.”

Dinner passed in easy conversation and laughter, each of them sharing memories from years past, trading stories that used to be about survival but had now softened, like old scars. The three of them spoke of the future, sharing dreams they once hadn’t dared say out loud, not because they didn’t believe in them but because none of them thought they’d make it this far.

As the evening wore on and the stars began to sprinkle the darkening sky, Oscar rose and took her hand, guiding her outside to the small terrace. Together, they leaned against the railing, looking out over the quiet landscape that stretched into the night. She felt his arm slip around her waist, drawing her close, and she leaned into his embrace, sighing with contentment.

Behind them, Lando stepped out onto the terrace, leaning against the doorframe with a rare, quiet smile as he watched them.

Oscar turned, catching his eye. “Not going to bed yet?”

“Nah,” Lando replied, shrugging. “Can’t leave you two alone to get all mushy. Besides, someone’s gotta make sure we’re safe.”

She smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the soft summer air. “Thank you, Lando. For being here. For everything.”

Lando met her gaze, something unspoken passing between them as he nodded. “Wouldn’t be anywhere else.” He paused, then added with a grin, “And besides, I’ve got a good gig here. Food, friends… and I don’t even have to dodge bullets anymore.”

They all laughed, a shared understanding in the sound, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only people in the world. The three of them stood there, beneath a canopy of stars, basking in the kind of peace they’d fought so long to find.

As the laughter faded into a gentle, comfortable silence, Oscar leaned down to kiss her forehead, murmuring, “This is it, isn’t it?”

She looked up at him, her hand resting on her growing belly, and nodded. “Yes. This is it.”

the end.

[cntloup]

Nanami x reader fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort, reader is having a hard time but the reason is not mentioned

"Ken, I think I just need some time to myself." you state after his unrelenting implores that you talk to him.

he always disliked not communicating whenever either of you feel down or something is bothering you, but he always respects you when you say you need some space.

you swallow the lump in your throat that probably formed out of guilt? maybe, you think.

but he never made you feel guilty. on the contrary, he always made sure that you felt at ease and comfortable with him.

it's just that you hate not talking to him about your feelings. you hate that you don't know how to do that. you try so hard to form the words, but they never come out. they always fail you.

"ok. just come to me if you need me. for anything, alright?" he asks to make sure you know that he's there for you. always.

"alright..." you respond in a breathy voice and leave the room, albeit hesitantly, but you know that you need to keep your distance for now. you don't really feel like talking and you're afraid to hurt him if you do.

you walk into the backyard and take a seat on the swing that you both made one afternoon out of boredom.

you smile to yourself as the memories come back to you in a flash.

you sit there just thinking about anything and everything, trying to clear your head beneath the indigo sheet of the night, the stars hung and blinking before your curious eyes.

you step back into the house after some time and find Kento on the couch, his eyes glued to the TV showing some cheesy soap opera, but you know his mind is somewhere else by his expression, eyebrows knitted in deep thought and his look distant.

you know him too well to know that his mind is filled with thoughts of you right now, wondering about how you're doing and what's bothering you. he always worries about you.

you make your presence known, "Ken..." you call out softly and sit beside him.

you waste no time to wrap your arms around his torso and rest your chin on his shoulder.

he comes back to reality by your sweet voice and tender touch, "hey, darling." he turns to you, showing his lovely smile that you fell in love with a long time ago.

"i did some thinking and i'm ready to talk now... also i'm sorry." you mention after some time of staring into each other's eyes.

"that's good, honey." he starts, "but what are you sorry for?" he furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

"for not talking and being distant. i hate to do that to you." you reply sincerely and he smiles once again, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

"you did nothing wrong, sweetheart. everyone needs their alone time every once in a while." he speaks in his ever loving tone as his lips brush against your skin, "just know that there's always someone who you can rely on. with absolutely anything you need."

and you can't help but tear up a bit at his sweet words. he always had a way of making you emotional and fall for him all over again.

you don't hesitate to kiss his lips as soon as the words leave his mouth, making him chuckle slightly against your lips as his hand finds its way to your nape, deepening the kiss. he knows what he does to you, the cocky bastard.

"i love you so much, Ken.", "i love you too, sweetheart."

no matter what happens or how many times you need your alone time and your space from each other, you always fall back together.

[under-loch-n-key]

I know it’s been a while since I post so here’s some Hazbin art. I may upload some more Lucifer and Alastor stuff in the future. I honestly gave up on this because my app kept crashing so it’s kinda messy in some places and a bit all over the place.

This takes place after season 1. Lucifer is trying to heal Alastor’s wound and senses a foreign energy in him. Then a bunch of arguing later, he finds out that it’s Lilith. So, then it clicks for him as to why Alastor was/is at the hotel.

I’m currently working on a fic of it so if you’re interested in reading it, maybe I’ll continue it. I’ll just have to see how my motivation is. [,:

—

I do make ship art of them but as an aroace person, I don’t think I’ll be making any NSFW stuff of them because idk if I feel comfy about that. I’ll just see what I’m personally comfortable with in the future though! If I do, I will NOT be anything too graphic or intense because yeah, no.. the art that will be uploaded of them will mainly just be crack/chaotic art and fluffy, domestic stuff of them. Lol.

Soooo, anyways, enjoy my phone doodle! I cramped my fingers drawing this and wanted to chuck my phone across my room because I had to restart this drawing multiple times because my sketchbook app would crash and wouldn’t save anything. QvQ 💛

(This is also gonna be a mini-comic so this is just the first panel of a very short comic thingy. Lmao.)

—

(Also, side note, if you don’t ship it, that’s fine. However, please do NOT attack me or any other shippers in reblogs or comments with the statement of us betraying the aroace community or something like that. I am Aroace myself and it’s hurtful to be told that by people who I share a fandom with. I am on a similar spectrum as Alastor and it’s very hard for me to develop those kind of genuine attractions but that doesn’t mean that myself or other aroace people are not capable of those things. I feel infantilised when I see non-aro and non-ace folk speaking up on our behalf. I don’t mind it, per se, but when they act like they are the final say of our community, that’s where I personally take issue. If I am offended by something, I will speak up, I feel like I’m being treated like a child when people do stuff like that.

I do not personally need a non-aroace person speaking up on my behalf. I’m not offended when I see ship art regarding the character of Alastor. I DO get offended when people completely erase his asexuality, act like he has no idea has his anatomy works/infantilise him, erase his boundaries, etc. if you’re making art and fics with care and consideration toward his identity then I’m completely okay. Just be respectful.

I have seen/read some NSFW stuff regarding that character where the artist does handle it with care and respect. I have seen others that.. well.. don’t do that. Lol.

If someone is being genuinely disrespectful toward my community then please say something but DO NOT harass people over simple domestic SFW fanart. Just be nice to people please!!!! I will turn off comments or remove the comments if you attack people over a ship. Know that I am NOT the final say either. This is my personal input and opinion and do not take this as gospel!)

Art is meant to be loved and enjoyed. So, just enjoy and be kind to people please! 💛💛

[barbatusart]

bit of thinking outloud but for my current tactician run im doing a special wyll origins playthrough im calling the Evil Wyll Run & it’s given me a lot of food for thought about his character (or at least the freedom of psychological movement + exploration afforded to an origin run!)

wyll spoilers abound we’re entering the wyllenium here

wyll always felt a bit underwritten to me - i know that’s partially because there was that big kerfuffle in the 11th hour with changing his whole story and personality on top of having to recast his VA, and frankly hats off to both original VA lanre malaolu & new VA theo solomon for their hard work - both brought tremendous performances, & i sincerely hope mr malaolu was paid well for his work & time even if his voice wasn’t used in the final cut (i would also say warlock as a class itself felt a bit underdeveloped but im 100% OK with chalking that up to me the player not understanding how to play warlock effectively yet lol im more of a fighter barbarian Hit Stuff guy)

but honestly this feeling of being “underwritten” combined with a character with a long history of heroism in his pocket made wyll really interesting to me even in my tav playthrough. for all his accomplishments he still feels like a blank everyman, or like he’s someone who fully believes he’s the main character who doesn’t “need” to do any extra work on himself - and honestly he feels Very much like he could be The Main Character. once his backstory of the son of the duke was revealed too i immediately got the sense of like, rich boy trying to prove his worth beyond his wealth and status by striking out & becoming that hero, or that Prince Charming. basically that perfect happily ever after somebody. and im of the opinion that you don’t get mixed up with a cambion in the first place unless you’re either the kind of naïve “everything will just work out” immature that tends to comes with his status as the son of a noble, or you’re hungering for power. depending on playstyle he’s very easily both of these things

on the naïve front (ie a good wyll playthrough) if anything he feels very believably immature, & from that perspective the events of the game feel as though they’re the prequel to the actual start of wyll's story where he finally finds himself & learns what kind of man he really is. we just dont get to see it alas, but i really enjoyed the thought exercise of somebody still grappling with overcoming his own immaturity. he feels like someone who can still grow and that his tale is just beginning

Evil Wyll (meaning any time mizora shows up he drops everything to enact her instruction & hasnt once tried to find a loophole out of his contract) which ive come to be far more fascinated by is someone clearly vying for power, which is interesting because his noble status would’ve given him all the power he wants had he Played Nice. to me it speaks of someone who wants to be able to take what he wants from life without it being handed to him, which contrasts in a really fascinating way with entering into a warlock pact at all. maybe he thought it was better that it be a decision he made as opposed to nobility given to him by his family ties, maybe there’s still that pollyanna sentiment of “it’ll just work out & ill live happily ever after.” again maybe both. maybe in a sense the fiend, as he calls himself, is a good excuse to shuck off any poor decision he makes or any genuinely heinous thing he does under mizora’s instruction - an identity he uses as power fantasy (and very much in tandem/interchangeable with the blade of frontiers power fantasy) until it means taking ownership for any of his misdeeds, and then a scapegoat.

may be a bit incoherent but im only now hitting act 3 in my origin run & im Really enjoying this difficult characterization ive cooked up for myself lol

[soulfullives]

marauders era unpopular opinions, once more

i really don’t like fanon regulus. i don’t like him being helpless and kind and a sirius variant. he’s morally grey, leaning towards morally dark, he’s selfish, he agreed to his parents’ and voldemort’s ideologies, having joined the death eaters most likely by his own will (unlike draco malfoy). but obviously, everyone is allowed to characterise characters the very way they want to

and while we’re on it, i don’t like evan and barty either, for the same reason. maybe i would, if they were realistically characterised (i LOVE reading morally grey or morally dark(er) characters), and once again, i believe that just because one likes a character, that doesn’t always mean that the character is a good person

and continuing on the same topic, the sunshine james potter, although being a topic that i like and delved deeper into myself, is nice, but i would also love to see more of arrogant, spoiled james potter, too

not liking severus snape and peter pettigrew but liking evan, barty and regulus is kind of hypocritical

i don’t like jegulus

i also don’t like the casanova, bad boy characterisation of remus, and the helpless, needy characterisation of sirius either. to me, they’re out of character, overly done and absolutely not enjoyable

and because i earlier mentioned severus snape, i think he’s an interesting character, actually. that doesn’t make him a good person (once again, i believe him to be morally grey, too) and i can’t call myself a lover of his, however i find his story and character very interesting and compelling

i don’t like a lot of the wolfstar dynamics in current fandom

“we need more content about the girls!” literally do it yourself. please. whenever i write content about the men, i get a wave of new followers, and whenever i post about the non-men, suddenly i have tebs of people unfollowing me. oh, and my posts about the men have twice or thrice the notes of the other ones

sirius > regulus

and speaking of which, sirius is such an interesting character, and he was reduced by many people to nothing, or whatever is relevant to the plot

james would pick sirius over regulus any time, with literally no hesitation

i don’t care about popular fics (read or don’t read, i generally don’t read popular fics to be honest), however i do care about the way creators, especially writers, are treated in this fandom. i made a few posts about this topic, feel free to ask me to link them to you, but the way some people feel entitled to fic and fandom content is horrible

“x is the female version of— !” please stop. i’m going to stop you right here.

stop tagging jegulus and wolfstar and other mlm ships with wlw and nmlnm tags, for god’s sake. you’re just clogging the tag, and if i came looking for a certain ship, that’s what i’m going to expect to find. besides, why would you tag jegulus with, say, pandalily, when jegulus is by far more popular?

jegulus < jily

[runningfrom2am]

Okay! Ik ur not talking request rn but I’ve had this thought for a lil bit but rafe w hs Teacher!reader, who he likes to visit during her lunch time aka study hall time, and the students adore him and like since it’s hs the girls like find his so attractive( bc mf is) 🤭

okay this request is SO self-indulgent for me bc i'm like a year out from becoming a hs teacher myself like AH that's the dream so i love you so so much for this whoever you are i could give you the biggest hug rn thank you so so much for this idea!!

study hall - r.c.

pairing: husband!rafe x teacher!reader

wc: 1.6k

tags/warnings: fluff and almost nothing else. rafe is a perfect boyfriend bc,, duh? also not very canon of him honestly.

requests currently closed but feel free to send stuff in! it just might take me a while to get around to it :)

nav/masterlists

"Okay that's the lecture, we've got about a minute before the bell here... does anyone have any questions?" You finish up your slides, checking the time briefly as you close up the powerpoint from your laptop and turn off the projector.

A couple of hands shoot up and you gaze over the class waiting briefly for anymore. "Okay, we'll do Max, and then Lacy. Fire off." You point to the two of them in order.

"Can we get an extension on the essay?" Max asks quickly and you laugh. "It's not due for another week! How can you be behind already?" Judging by the reaction of the rest of the class chattering off their agreement, you nod. "Okay, okay. Fine. Yes, you can hand it in on the Monday instead of Friday, but that is giving you two extra days so I won't be giving any more extensions. Got it?"

Collectively the class sighs in relief, a chorus of thank you's and chatter following. "Okay, Lacy, you had a question?" You interrupt everyone to ask, thinking maybe someone else might have the same question and want to hear the answer.

"Is Mr. Cameron coming to study hall today?" She asks, round cheeks flushed as the other girls in the class whip their heads towards you to listen.

"Okay." You laugh, sitting down in your chair content that you won't need to pull up any slides to revisit anything. "Thank you for reminding me, I do have study hall today so if anybody does have any serious questions about the lecture or the essay please hang around after the bell." You say, avoiding most of the question.

You hear the voice of almost every girl in the class speak up at once, all resulting in more or less the same question about whether or not your boyfriend would be coming again to eat with you like he usually does on Fridays.

He was very popular among the girls you taught, which doesn't surprise you. You'd be lying if you said your boyfriend wasn't ridiculously handsome, but it was sometimes a point of contention with the other faculty you worked with. They thought it was extremely unprofessional that he would come in just for the girls to ogle at- but strangely it wasn't a problem when they had their partners come in for lunch at the same time. You knew it wasn't your fault and you weren't doing anything wrong, but just a result of upset from them designating study hall for students and many girls would spend time in your class instead during the lunch hour.

Just then the bell rang, and many students began packing up to leave either to go to other classes for study or to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

"Alright! Don't forget the readings for next class, please, I may or may not be quizzing you on it just to make sure! Have a good day everyone!" You call out over the loud sounds of students filling the halls and talking.

You sigh with a smile and grab your water bottle, taking a sip to ease your dry throat after an hour of non-stop talking. You look up, humming in acknowledgement at the three girls leaning over your desk. "Question?" You ask, already knowing what they're after.

"Is Mr. Cameron coming?" Lacy's friend, Chloe asks and you smile, shrugging.

"Maybe, you'll have to stay for my study hall to find out."

"Come on just tell us!" Lacy groans, but before you can respond you're interrupted by a knock on your door frame.

"Ms. Y/L/N, I brought your lunch." You smile at your boyfriend standing at the door, lunch bag and coffee in hand.

"Hi." You chuckle, looking at the girls knowingly who already look like they're melting. You get up and greet him at the door, grabbing another chair to pull over to your desk for him to join you.

“Hi Mr. Cameron.” Lacy smiles, sitting down in the desk closest to yours and batting her lashes at him.

“Hi there.” Rafe says politely with an awkward smile, digging through the lunch bag he brought for you and handing you snacks out of it.

“Girls, go get your lunches, please.” You tell them, and they all somehow simultaneously roll their eyes.

“You just want us to leave so you can be alone with your boyfriend.” Chloe teases you and you laugh, shaking your head.

“No, I want you to go get your lunches so you can give your bodies the nutrients they need to learn. I’m not going to be held responsible for you girls missing meals.” You reply sincerely before taking a sip of your coffee. “And I promise, Mr. Cameron will still be here when you get back. Now, go.”

You gesture to the door and the girls sigh, getting up and filing out the door.

“You’re the only reason I ever have anyone in my study hall.” You giggle quietly once they’re gone. “There are no girls in study hall on Monday or Wednesday.”

“No way, Ms. Y/L/N is their favourite teacher, obviously.”

“Or my class is the hardest and my very hot boyfriend comes to eat with me during Friday study hall.”

“Your class is easy!” Rafe laughs, reaching up to brush away some hair that stuck to your cheek as you’re eating.

“You’ve never taken it, how would you know?”

“Well, if you were my teacher when I was in school… I’d be in here every day. “The boys don’t come on Fridays because they’re jealous of me…” He says smugly, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You blush as you playfully push him away, glancing towards the open door to make sure no students saw. “Yeah, you’d be in here because you’d need help with Shakespeare, and they do too.”

Rafe gasped in mock offense, then shakes his head. “That’s messed up. I’m offended.”

You shrug. “It’s tough stuff if you’ve never read it before.”

“We’re back!” You both look up at the door as Lacy and her friends make their way back in, lunches in hand this time. “Did you miss us?”

“Welcome back, ladies. Did you bring some homework with you?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Duh, Ms. Y/L/N. Who do you think we are?”

“I just wanted to make sure. Study hall is for studying, not chatting.”

They all get comfy in their seats around the desk across from yours, phones immediately out with no work to be seen.

“Hey, Mr. Cameron?” Chloe asks, leaning on her upturned palm as she grabs his attention and he hums in acknowledgement. “What’s your first name?”

“Rafe.” He answers, not thinking for a second that maybe it’s not allowed.

“That’s a great name. Like, really cool.” Lacy sighs, smiling at him.

“Why, thank you.” Rafe grins, nudging your shoulder. He eats this attention up every time, and it’s fun to joke about when you’re at home- but sometimes you think it’s bad for his ego.

“Can we call you Rafe?”

“If you want.” He shrugs.

“No, nope. He’s Mr. Cameron to you, sorry to disappoint.” You chuckle.

“But he said we can call him that!” Chloe whines, looking at you pleadingly.

“Sure, but the school board says otherwise. As long as we’re on school grounds you don’t even know his name, got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” They agree, giggling to themselves. “It’ll be our secret. Scouts honour.”

“None of you are scouts!” You laugh.

The girls just look at each other and shrug.

By now other students have filtered in, and luckily with tests coming up in all your blocks, a lot of studying is actually happening and less harassing of your boyfriend.

“Hey,” Rafe whispers, leaning closer to you which draws the attention of the girls in the front row who are straining to listen. “Can we take the yacht out this weekend? Maybe go for dinner or something on the mainland?” He whispers, smiling at you hopefully.

“Yeah, that would be nice. We could make a weekend out of it, I don’t have much grading to do.” You agree quietly and he seems excited, smiling and patting your leg before returning to his book that he had just picked up off your desk to skim through while you ate.

Come Monday morning, you’re getting ready for the bell to ring to signal the start of the first block. Once your whiteboard is ready with the notes for the day, you smile to yourself in anticipation as you sip your coffee. The bell rings, and students are quick to make their way in and to their desks.

“Oh. My. God.” Lacy stops in her tracks at the door, holding her arms out in front of her friends on either side of her as she stares at the whiteboard, and then looks over to you. “You’re joking!” She almost screams, clapping excitedly and running up to your desk to examine your hand while all the other students look up to the board in confusion, hoping for some answers as to what Lacy and Chloe are squealing about.

On your board, you had changed your name in the corner to a short statement:

‘You can call me Mrs. Cameron’

taglist: @rafeoccasionally , @bookishbabyyy , @madelynie , @whore-4-drewstarkey , @slut4drudy , @winterrrnight , @totalswag , @sadfury , @fullfledgedemo , @rafemotherfuckingcameron , @urfaveluvr , @chenslucy , @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea , @tahliac11 , @saccharinesammie , @ietss , @maybankslover , @redhead1180 , @suzyheartsrafe , @wpdailyminimeta , @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly , @lovelyxtommy, @thelomlisrafecameron , @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles , @flonkertn , @whtvrrafe

[eobe]

You are reborn into the Star Wars universe, in a time, place, and family of your choosing. You retain all of your knowledge of canon events, and could change their outcome if you so chose. What do you do?

an unforeseen writing escalation. If you‘ve been tagged and don’t want to read – ignore 😂🫶

Oh kriff, what did I do to deserve that.

That’s what I asked myself, CT-1618, since I got fragment by fragment of the memories of my former life on a strange planet in a galaxy that far away, that my soul travelled not only through space, but also through time.

And Maker, this is kark. If I don‘t want to be decommissioned by first chance, I had to keep my mouth shut and my head down. If I had to speak, then well-considered. The silent, broody cadet with the ongoing frown and the crossed arms, that was me.

I almost enjoyed everyone getting calm and my clone brothers‘ full attention when I finally had something to say. So time came to use that for a greater good.

Down in the barracks after curfew I hesitated over-notable to make my batch vode curious and then I started cautiously asking them what they think about „The Mission“ – the one of our nightmares.

Either I had luck or it was easier than I thought to get them started to think individually. I recognized my chance to change things with patience, if I manage to spread some tiny well placed seeds without getting caught – and to get some tiny well placed stones into rolling.

Even as a single clone trooper I could try to find evidence. I only needed skills to get my chance, so I specialized on coding and data decryption and also spread cautiously word about my interests and achievements to get support from my superiors. It worked – I got qualified for ARC training.

I also noticed the rumor about „The Mission“ being not only a strange clone thing but something possibly dangerous made the round, also some more triggers I set, like that we‘re more than just numbers.

I asked my trusted vode to tell me if they heard news about the rumors other clones maybe whispering behind hands about things I started. I always had only one back question: „Did they mention me?“ Luckily never. My brothers mocked me being that nervous. „Vod, calm down. Source unknown as always.“

I felt a little hope the first time a stranger clone in the 79s chatted with me and after some time and drinks he hesitated with a calculating glance and asked with lowered voice what I think of those rumors about „The Mission“ – that one from our nightmares. I couldn’t hold back a small chuckle but answered well-considered as usual.

I collected and encrypted every data I could find, also tracking the reports of the 501st to stay tuned. Did little hacking attacks and got better. Being a silent and specialized ARC trooper in the 41st Elite Corps allowed me to broaden my network, but my connections and attempts to get through the security walls of Serenno for the chips‘ data went dangerously wrong.

My closest vode shivered with me as we heard talking our superiors about Serenno being cyber attacked – from our position. Kark, the seppies seem to have a new specialist.

„Do we know the source?“ My batch brother Forest asked – perfectly hiding that he knows the source better than he liked in this moment.

They didn‘t find the source. But I found something.

__

„Name and number, trooper!“

Done. The day and the moment had come and I was absolutely done, but I might have now the tiniest and silliest chance to change a really big event in the timeline!

I had lurked in the 79s, looking for some blue markings on armor to grab myself some key figures, but I had to run into the Marshal Commander of Coruscant himself. Literally.

And spilled his caf all over his spotless armor.

Kriff, maybe I was only done, but I have to try my luck for the sake of the whole karking galaxy.

„ARC-1618! Name‘s Source, Sir and I‘m incredibly sorry, Sir…“ I rambled? knowing that not only my own poor life depends on.

The first time in my life I babbled like the most talkative brother of my Squad (named Text, no kidding) and it was important to do so and to make it right – I had a plan that requires proper acting.

I had absolutely no problem to show my sweating nervousness and shrinked under the seething glare of the elder clone and finally sweared, that I‘ll spend him a caf every time when I see him – Pause for effect and dramatic gasp (for this one I imagined my big brother Voice the one time the bulky clone actually got unsettled) – then I widened my eyes like in shock, like realizing what I just said and I froze my body like prey that got caught and hoped that I just had managed my masterpiece.

And Dank Farrik, it worked. I knew that I had won in the very moment that I saw a slightly mad glint lighten up in the furious eyes of Coruscant‘s head and an actually scary grin showing the canine teeth, all the older and greying Commanders seem to share.

My heart and my brain were racing on my way to order the maybe most important caf in the whole galaxy and as I sat down at the table with the waiting Commander, who tried to hide his amusement I had the feeling that I truly got a chance now.

So I started to track the schedules and reports of the Coruscant Guard and „stumbled“ over Commander Fox as often as possible, without making the tired but sly man suspicious. We fastly got into really good caf talks and so one day I dared my luck, making the older clone curious with showing in a matter of fact truly undecided and hesitating.

l leaned a bit over the table, shooting a short look left and right and asked with lowered voice „Sir… may I ask you a question? I heared rumors and maybe the Marshal Commander is able to clear that.“

Fox raised an eyebrow with an asking glance.

I took a deep breath.

„What do you think about… The Mission? You know, the one of our nightmares.“

Great, I escalated 🙈 Thank you for the inspiration, dearest Anon. I‘m not a writer, I have a writing blockade for more than half of my life, but suddenly one of my unintroduced OCs took over… 🤷🏽‍♀️

Yeah, I hope you have fun with a non-mother tongue, non beta-read, non-writer‘s spontaneous writing 😂🫶

@foxwithadarkside Look, who‘s gone AWOL 😁

@crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf Does this count for an OC showcase?

Chaos Squad, you might recognize some names 😎 @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @ghostymarni

Taglist, I apologize for my attempt to override my current art blockade with a pathetic try to draw something with words: @eclec-tech @bixlasagna @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream @covert1ntrovert @general-ida-raven @vrycurious @dystopicjumpsuit @chaicilatte @groguandthebadbatch @ladylucksrogue @spaceyjessa @morerandombullshit @freesia-writes

[lorelune]

(aventurine x reader /// continuation of this concept)

"explain to me," the good doctor demands, "why do you need my help?"

"because." you fumble around your words. your lips feel cold. herta's space station, especially this deep in its bowels, is an unpleasant place to have any conversation, let alone one that is also unpleasant. "i don't have time."

"and you assume i do?"

"partially?" you rub a hand over your cheek. "throw me a bone here, doctor."

ratio has been sizing you up for the better part of half an hour, scrutinizing your intent in any way he can. you have been skillfully attempting to dodge most of those attempts, but veritas ratio is as diligent a man as he is intelligent. which is to say that he is not letting up until you divulge the truth.

you sigh.

"you will explain to me," he says outright, gaze piercing. "how one of the intelligentsia guild's most esteemed researchers needs help with an algorithm that is far below both of our skill levels. it's insulting to both myself, and yourself."

you sigh again, deeper and harder, "i, once again, do not have time. i have the 'full time job' of handling aventurine's odds, and those calculations don't run like any other odds i've ever worked with, and he is a variable constantly in motion. i need help making this algorithm so i can have some assistance with my main job at hand."

the doctor scoffs, and walks a circle around you, "i'm sure he's just thrilled with the company."

"we— he manages."

more than. but, veritas doesn't need to know that. you're sure he'll figure it out eventually.

veritas tagged the briefcase on a nearby table. it's gleaming, with a discreet ipc logo embossed on the side. the sight of it makes you nauseous with anxiety.

"is this bribe from him?" he asks.

"no." you've stopped aventurine anytime he has tried to intervene and make things easier for you. he rarely listens, but your relationship with ratio and the guild make him somewhat neutral territory. "higher up."

"i assume diamond wouldn't bother to dirty her hands. so, jade?"

"yes."

dr. ratio, for the first time, seriously considers your offer. then scowls. "it would be a waste of my time."

you sigh. there was a 67.22% chance of this outcome. luckily, you have gamed out the conversation from here.

"so you can't?"

"you know i can."

then, you laugh, and shake your head. "yes, i do. sorry to tease. i'm quite tired."

"you should go find your gambler." veritas crosses his arms, looking sidelong at the briefcase.

"i will, eventually." you turn your back to veritas as you begin to leave the open atrium. the air is hollow and frigid. "i'll just ask some other intelligentsia guild members about the project first. i'm sure they'd be happy to help."

you only take a few steps before dr. ratio grabs your arm. his grip is far too strong.

(chance of failure to secure dr. veritas ratio's assistance: decreased by 31%.)

"don't bother them."

"someone needs to help." you turn back to look at him, expression schooled. "and if you won't, i'm very sure someone else will be happy to work beside 'one of the intelligentsia guild's most esteemed researchers'. or, does such a title not truly apply considering i've been ousted from my previous position?"

he frowns, but before he can speak, you interrupt him. you haven't seen veritas since being tied down to your current post. you haven't let him have it. he deserves it, maybe.

"i heard from jade that i received a glowing recommendation from another well-respected scholar. apparently, the position was being considered for either one of us. somehow, with that recommendation, i drew the short end of the stick and now play handler for a man with a death wish and a statistically measurable chaos quotient that's ever-changing in multiples of three."

veritas's face is unmoving. unchanging. but you know you've struck something. it was to be him or you in this position. and you don't have the pride he does. you place your hand over top of his, posed to speak, to tear him apart—

a shrill ringtone shatters the tension. it's yours. you already know who it is.

you flip your phone open with one hand, still staring at ratio.

"hello," aventurine's voice beckons from the other side, smug and smooth. "where is my favorite, most brilliant mind hiding out? we're due to leave soon."

"sadly, with another one of your favorite, brilliant minds. i'll be finished up shortly and meet you at the docks."

"aw, did he not get onboard? that's quite the choice for him to be making. do you want me to give him a talking to you?"

"no, it's fine. i'm working something out."

"you sound upset."

"i'm tired." you rub at your eyes and break away from veritas with a yawn.

"you can nap on the ship. we have quite the journey."

"that we do. i'll see you in a bit?"

"see you there." you can hear the smirk in his voice.

sending you down to veritas alone was aventurine's gamble. one that is working out, predictably. never mind the damage your reputation will take after these next moments. you close the phone with a sigh and begin toward the grand elevator.

"veritas," you call his name. "i forgive you, for what it's worth. try not to do it again."

"i couldn't."

you laugh and shake your head as you ascend. by the time you arrive at the docks, the ipc's premier vessel is packed away and priming its engines. lights and sirens echo from it. aventurine's idles outside, waiting for you. he beams when he sees you.

"so," he whistles, guiding you with a hand on your lower back. you let him. "was the good doctor as prickly as ever?”

"if not more so" you admit. aventurine gestures with a sweeping hand to your shared quarters for the time being. there's a single bed, but you're used to this. you've come not to mind it. "i think i bruised his ego."

with a genuine laugh, “i don’t think that's possible."

"want to bet on that?" you ask.

your phone's text tone chimes and you shoot aventurine a sharp smile.

aventurine's odds are ridiculous. ever changing, constantly moving. none of your perceptions and calculations that are usually steadfast and unmoving can keep up with him. not with efficiency, anyways. it's exhausting work. however, the likelihoods of everything but aventurine? the predictions of a man like ratio?

easy. simple. you could do them in your sleep.

aventurine squishes against your side as you open your newest message.

[SENDER: Doctor Ratio <intelligentsia guild>]

> here is a first draft. forgo payment. i do not need to be in the stonehearts’ pocket.

[file attached: STONE ALGORITHM DRAFT 1.0.spqxxxiun.pqo]

aventurine laughs, muffling it against the side of your neck. his teeth are sharp and his breath is warm. it settles something in you. you lean into him and deflate, sliding down into your lap so your head is pillows there. a gloved hand cards through your hair.

"you're quite good at the game, when you choose to play." aventurine reminds you. he tells you this often.

"i know." you turn your face into his hand as the ship rumbles. "but it's your job."

aventurine pauses his pets, then thumbs over your lips. he looks sour, only for a moment, before resuming his motions, a bit rougher this time. you relish the feel of it, sinking into it.

"one of us has to, right?"

"right."

"and the other," he taps your lips. your sputter, indignant. "plays support."

"one of us has to." you remind him.

it's silent between the two of you as the ship whirs and bellows, taking off from herta's space station without reverie. onto your next destination, wherever aventurine is deigned to be needed, with you by his side, dutifully.

you press your face into his stomach, letting the smell of linen and his cologne envelope you.

neither of you have a choice to play this game. the cards are stacked, and you best not loose count from aventurine's side. you'll be damned if you do.

(there is a 98.769% chance that you are damned regardless.)

at least, at least, you have each other, you think as aventurine bundles you up closer, and you wrap yourself around him. you'll take that, for as long as it lasts.