#I literally joined the next week and was hit with all this info

[venisonhare]

Every so often I think about how the day I was gone for the session, my party somehow made a blood pact with lady wachter, the burgomaster house turned sentient, and victor was killed all in the span of like 3 hours. I come back to find vallaki in partial ruins and one of my favorite npcs is gone. I didn't even get to meet him before his demise and till this day I still don't know what the hell happened there.

[crack-canon]

Grown Up Saiki: Akechi Touma (Revisited)

Alongside Toritsuka Reita. They’re roomates

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—

-Just like his spirit, Akechi becomes a detective, more so a private investigator and becomes rather wildly feared due to his tactics of keeping pressure on his targets

-He’s often described as ruthless by his targets who were served Justice and word spreads

-Akechi just keeps talking and talking without letting the target get a word in

-Akechi ends up getting hired by Teruhashi when she suspects her husband of cheating. Akechi recruited Saiki “Kuriko” since Teruhasi’s husband knew all of Teruhashi’s friends already. (More coming on Teruhashi’s eventual info)

-they ended up calling in The Big Guns

-Sometimes Akechi asks Saiki to join him on his stake outs by offering him dinner or some cafe trip. Most of the time, Saiki does it for free because it’s a hassle to feel in debt to his friends. That and he had plans for dinner with Satou

-Akechi literally just has the grown up Mob psycho hair cut

-Akechi lost a tooth when a target punched him and kinda just kept using his Invisalign without it

-With the help of Aiura, Akechi gets makeup and wigs done so he can go better undercover. He’s done a few drag for some cases

-Akechi doesn’t get much sleep every other day but when your lack of sleep is every other day, it racks up into exhaustion

-he lives off coffee and energy drinks. Saiki just stared in slight shock before he pointed to Akechi’s chest and mentioned how fast it was beating.

-Gutteral whine as Akechi raises his shaky hands. “Thanks, I have had only 12 hours of sleep this entire week”

-Either Akechi lives alone or he lives with Torisuka as roomates. Akechi is the breadwinner of the household

-Akechi going off a murder/Infidelity case

-He tends to wink when he knows he got the target in a corner but because of his shadowed eyes, it’s always a tad scary

-He’s riddled in old and new scars. Most of the big scars are old ones that failed to heal after Saiki’s incident

-He doesn’t call it that though. He sees it as Saiki’s way of caring, always doing something in the background to protect his friends

-Saiki works hard to keep his friend alive from hit men. Akechi is very much aware of this and often sends over sweets as a thank you from a different location

-Most of his new ones are attacks from his targets and hits (like attempted injuries or killing)

-I couldn’t figure out to draw him with long hair without looking greasy

-Reita finally got charged for sexual harassment and just barely managed to get bailed out by the monks of the temple (Based on this)

-Before this, Reita got beat up by some girl’s brother and the only thing that didn’t heal was his busted lip

-Afterwards, he finally realized the possible consequences of his actions, he began focusing on his monk training but in the end knew it wasn’t for him. He wanted more in life

-Reita most likely gained some weight from stress eating

-Reita becomes an exorcist/medium and there’s a surprising amount of people who ask to see commune with passed on loved ones or sometimes Reita will encounter a spirit with unfinished business and the two go to talk to living loved ones who end up paying for giving them closure

-Reita is still into boobs and women but not to the creepy/SH manner. He’ll still quickly glance their way but he’ll focus back on the task

———

-Reita and Touma are roomates

-They never bring home girls purely because Akechi never saw the appeal of sex while Reita just has a string of bad luck with women

-Sometimes they work together on Touma’s cases if Reita encounters the murdered one’s spirit

-They try to avoid taking requests from ghosts since that doesn’t pay rent but they find it hard to deny since Reita wants to help them move on

-The two picked up smoking at different times. Akechi picked it up after a physical abuse case between lovers while Reita picked it up after a child ghost came to him that was a result of abuse/accidental (due to lack of care) death

-Akechi attempted to stop but after his latest case with Reita he broke and the two smoked together on their small apartment balcony, silently enjoying each others company as they stared out at the city lights and the nearby neon of their local drug store

-They never smoke in front of their friends

—

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[peachy-rambles]

Pirate Techno and ocean god philza, where philza gets hopelessly endeared to this terrifying pirate because he doesn’t hunt magic creatures or disrespect the ocean like most pirates. While Techno is not understanding why the ocean is always smooth for him or why most dangerous sea creatures leave him alone

Anon, did you read my mind because only a few hours before you sent this, I was gearing up and forming thoughts about a pirate AU!

Techno is one of the most feared pirates roaming the seas. He's fucking massive, towering over everyone and is frankly very terrifying. He's scruffy (as pirates are), with a beard and a long mane of pink hair. He also wears an eyepatch due to one of his eyes not working/missing and has a massive scar on that side of his face going over his hidden eye. No ones ever seen him with his eyepatch off so they don't know if he's missing an eye or it just doesn't work, and they don't know how he received the scar (there's lots of rumors and stories, but Techno never comments or gives hints). He seems mostly human (besides his height, which no human could ever achieve that height), but he has tusks potruding from his mouth that hint at his non-human heritage.

(He's a bear, ok? He is not a twink in the slightest, he's a massive fucking bear pirate)

Techno is an incredibly impressive fighter, capable of dual weilding swords (as well as being able to dual weild a sword and a pistol, although he favors swords more), and is merciless, earning him the nickname "the Blade". It's said that you never want to meet the Blade in battle, not if you don't want to die a bloody death.

Many assume that because of his great reputation, Techno is the captain of the ship that he sails on, but he isn't. The Captain of the ship is in fact a pirate named Puffy and Techno is her First Mate.

They work well together, Techno having joined Puffy's crew years ago under mysterious circumstances. He has great knowledge of the sea, knows the best places to sail and what places to avoid, not to mention owns countless stories and old books/maps from explorers past (including info on buried treasure they once hid away). Again, no one knows how or why Techno joined and why he's so knowledgeable, he's just a giant mystery. Literally.

With all the mystery surrounding Techno and his terrifying appearance/reputation, people would be shocked to learn that Techno actually has quite the gentle soul. He is quiet and shy, usually standing in the back of the crowd and observing. He respects the ocean and all of it's creatures, including the magical ones. He'll go out of his way to help baby sea turtles make their way to the ocean after just hatching on a beach, or will ignore the familiar flash of a mermaid's tail in the water (despite knowing a live mermaid could sell at a very hefty price).

He doesn't let others see this side of himself, not even Puffy or their crew, and keeps up the facade of the mysterious terrifying Blade.

One night, Puffy and their crew come across another pirate ship and a battle breaks out. It's just their luck that a massive storm hits at the same time, and it quickly turns into a fight for survival.

Somewhere in the chaos of it all, Techno is knocked off the ship and falls into the dark ocean depths.

It isn't until after Puffy and her crew manage to make a hasty retreat from the other ship, attempting to find smoother waters, that they realize Techno is missing. They search long and hard, but they're never able to find him and assume he's dead.

But he's not.

Techno is, somehow, alive and wakes up on the beach of what he assumes is a deserted island. He immediately sets the work, making himself a little shelter by a group of trees and exploring the island for food and fresh water.

He is unsuccessful and he goes to bed hungry very paranoid The entire night he stays awake, unable to fall asleep because he can't help but feel like he's being watched the entire time.

The next day, he goes out searching for food and water again, but fails. He has no such luck the third day and he is getting desperate because he knows he needs to find fresh water soon.

The fourth day when he wakes up, he is startled to see a pile of fresh fruit and a glass bottle with what he assumes is water sitting innocently next to him in his shelter.

Techno comes to the natural conclusion that he is not alone on this island and someone has been watching him, and for some reason left him food. Techno considers the fact that maybe it's poisoned, but he hasn't eaten or drunk in days and he knows he needs it. He eats the food and drinks the water, and it's the best thing he's ever tasted (SO much better than the food they ate on the ship).

He doesn't die, or feel sick afterwards, so that's a plus.

With newfound energy, he goes explorint that day and is finally able to find a small river with fresh water on the island, along with some native fruits.

Several days pass, and Techno continues building on his shelter and makes some attempts at fishing, but he isn't exactly the best.

When he wakes up to a huge pile of fish the very next day, he's somehow not too surprised.

This continues for a while, Techno searching the island and exploring more and more each day. One time, after Techno attempted (and failed) to hunt down a wild hog, he walked back to his shelter only to find the very same hog in front of it, dead.

Techno examines the animal, and realizes very quickly that a human didn't take it down. No, a creature or a monster must have, judging from the bitemarks on the back of the hog's neck.

Techno is now very concerned as to who or what exactly was also on this island with him.

He knows building a raft would not be a good idea, that he's most likely drown or starve at sea if he made his out there on a little raft. It was better to stay on the island, where there was food and water, and hope someone found him. In the meantime, he started to create weapons - simple things like small knives and spears.

Whatever was on this island, if it decided to hunt Techno down, he wasn't going to go down without a fight.

After completing the spear he made and lamenting on how he missed his swords one night, old rusted sword appears in his shelter the very next day. Perhaps once it had been beautiful, but now it was dull and fairly useless to him.

Techno is just completely confused at this point and maybe loses his mind a little bit.

He begins talking to himself out loud, speaking about how he misses human contact and would like to just have someone to talk to about all of this.

He does not at all expect a voice to answer him back.

"You can talk to me, if you want."

Techno quickly grabs his spear and keeps it held tightly in his hands, "Whose there?"

He glances around, trying to find the source of the voice but all he sees is the beach and the trees from the forest.

"Where are you? Come out!" he demands.

".....I would prefer not to."

'Prefer not to?' Techno mouths to himself before letting out a growl, "Why not?"

There was only silence, until eventually the voice said in a much quieter tone, "...I'm shy."

Techno is dumbfounded and can only let out a, "Heh?"

He tries getting more answers from the voice, but it doesn't respond, whoever it was seemingly gone.

Techno doesn't sleep that night, wondering if any of that had been real or simply all in his head.

The next day, he doesn't leave his shelter and instead merely sits there, waiting.

Until, eventually towards the end of the day...

"....You didn't go out today."

Techno glances around, but again he sees nothing but beach and trees. Not a single person in sight.

"Nope, I didn't," he says with a sigh.

"Why not?" the voice asks.

"I was waiting for you," Techno responds back simply.

".........Oh."

Techno waits a few moments for the voice to speak more, but when it doesn't, Techno decides to ask a question.

"Are you the one who gave me the food and water?"

"Yes."

"And hunted the boar?"

"Yep! A big strong man like you needs lots of meat to survive, right?"

Techno pauses, unsure how to process that statment before clearing his throat and asking, "You gave me the sword as well?"

"I did! Did you like it? I tried to find the best one in my collection!"

"It was rusted and dull, but I appreciate it, I guess," Techno admits.

"My collection" so whoever this was had a collection....whatevet that meant.

"Oh. I could-I could...give you another sword if you like! I know how much you like your swords!"

"....What do you mean by that?" Techno asks and let's out a sigh when there's no reply.

When he wakes up the next morning, he indeeds find a sword. It's not the best, but it isn't dull and seems to be well taken care of, so there's that at least.

"Thank you," he says outloud and is surpised when he hears a quiet, "You're welcome," in response.

Days continue on (Techno figures he's been on this island for about a few months). Most days, Techno finds himself talking to the voice. It never stays for very long, but it's....friendly, at least.

"Are you real?" Techno asks one day, lying down next to his shelter and looking up into the clear light blue sky.

"What do you mean? Of course I'm real," the voice replies, letting out a quiet chuckle (it's light and sweet, the sound falling sootbingly onto Techno's ears)

"Well, I can't see you, for one," Techno says, "For all I know, you could just be a figment of my imagination."

"I'm real," the voice says, their voice clear and strangely assuring.

"Then, could I see you?" Techno asks.

".....I don't know."

The voice is silent the rest of that day. As well as the day afterwards, and the day after that. A whole week passes by before Techno hears the voice again.

"I don't want to scare you," it admits.

"Why, do you look scary?" Techno asks. He's working on another spear (his last one broke the night before) and casually listens as the voice speaks.

"To most, yes."

"You gonna elaborate on that or just keep being mysterious?"

Silence.

Techno sighs, "Mysterious it is then."

The voice continues to talk to Techno once a day, but it doesn't go back to the subject of it's appearance or showing itself to Techno. Techno doesn't push either. Instead, they just casually converse, the voice asking what Techno is doing that day and Techno replying.

Sometimes, Techno will talk about his and Puffy's crew, some adventures they went on and the treasure they found or silly mishaps that happened to them.

Sometimes, the voice brings Techno their own treasures from their "collection" - pieces of gold, old enchanted books, jewelry and sometimes just random things from the ocean like a pretty shell or rock.

Techno appreciates it all and grows a whole little pile or treasure in his shelter.

And sometimes, when they're talking, Techno will catch a glimpse of....something hiding behind a nearby tree or rock in the forest - a flash of gold here or the very tip of a swishing tail there.

Whatever it was, it wasn't human.

Techno tried not to worry too much about that and never mentioned anything to the voice, worried he might scare them off again by mentioning their appearance.

One night, when Techno is just beginning to drip off to sleep, the voice appears for the second time in the same day.

"I like you, Techno," the voice says, "A lot. Do you-do you like me?"

Techno thinks the question over before nodding, "I think so, yeah. I mean, I don't know you that well and you're kinda just a voice, and I don't know if you're real or not, but yeah you seem nice."

The voice laughs, seemingly endeared by Techno's words. "That's good, I'm glad. Good night, Techno."

"Good night."

The next morning, Techno wakes up and finds the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen laying there next to him, watching him warily with bright blue eyes.

They have long blond hair with a crown seemingly made out of coral atop their head. Massive golden wings potrude from their back, completely smooth and sparkling in the early morning light, looking as if seemingly made of silk.

Then there was the tail.

The creature has no legs and instead has a long thick fish tail of some kind, beginning at the bottom of their torso and unable to fit completely in Techno's shelter, extending out into the beach outside.

"....Hi, Techno," the creature says, in the voice that Techno had become so familiar with in the last few months.

"Hey," Techno says and reaches out, placing his hand on the side of the creature's face, cupping their face gently in the palm of his hand, "You're a whole lot prettier than I imagined."

The creature flushes a pretty pink color, almost matching the coral it wears atop of their head.

Techno suddenly realizes how close their faces are to each other and the creature seems to realize it too before they move closer, placing their lips on Techno's in a kiss.

Techno kisses back, pulling the creature closer to them and enjoying the little pleased chirps they make as he kisses them.

They eventually seperate, Techno lying back down and the creature placing their head on Techno's chest, seemingly content to lay there in Techno's arms.

"I'm Philza, by the way," the creature says.

"Philza. That's a nice name-" Techno starts to say before his eyes widen and he remembers where he's heard that name before and who exactly it belonged to.

Philza.

Philza, the ancient ocean deity that supposedly ruled the seas and was the protector of all the creatures who lived in it, who called it home. Philza, who was said to be a terrifying monster and could strike fear into the bravest men, who devoured the hearts of men and could sink even the sturdiest of boats in the blink of an eye.

Philza, whose name had been forgotten and lost for centuries, was nothing more than an old legend - a myth.

Except, apparently not because Philza was currently curled up on Techno's chest, pleased chirps escaping him as he reached out to place his hand in Techno's, intertwining their fingers.

Philza, an ancient and all-powerful deity...and Techno had just fucking made out with him.

[wickedpact]

heres a transcript of that gina & greg interview i mentioned yesterday. literally nothing new is in this, but theres a lot of info in this that was scattered in varying interviews/podcasts and i like having all of it in one place for future reference purposes

(link to vid)

Patrick: Hey everybody, this is Patrick Cavanaugh from comicbook.com here to bring you a very special conversation about Netflix's The Old Guard, which just debuted last week, and everybody has seen it-- I believe people have seen it by now, so that's very exciting. And to dive deep into this film, we're actually very lucky to have the film's director Gina Prince-Bythewood, who also directed Love And Basketball and Beyond The Lights here. Hello, Gina.

Gina: Hey.

P: And we're also joined by the film's writer, as well as the writer of the original comic book series, The Old Guard. Also, you might know him from his DC Comics work, Batwoman, and Lazarus, to name a few of his titles. We have Greg Rucka! Hello, Greg.

Greg: Hello!

P: So this film just first debuted last week, and I know you guys have been inundated with fans, just loving it. And let's just get to what fans want to know, right off the bat; I'm sure you're getting daily questions about this because there's so much for an expanded universe. So let's set the record straight: will there be a Tiger King crossover?

[everyone laughs]

Greg: Uh, we're planning an animated series with giant Mech suits, and, unbeknownst to a certain franchise, we're going to crossover with Transformers and-- no. Come on. [laughs]

P: Okay, alright, we’ll hold onto that big crossover stuff. And I know Netflix, of course, hasn’t fully announced what the future might be for Old Guard, but I'm just kind of curious if you guys have had any recent conversations about what you'd like to do in the future—theoretical, nothing concrete, of course. But since the film has come out and you've seen fan feedback…?

Gina: I will just say, obviously, it's an incredible compliment that people want to see more. It means we did our job in this. It was very important that this film has a beginning middle and end. We wanted to focus on this.

Greg: Yeah.

Gina: And get it right. Having people want more is an incredible gift and I would say those conversations were really… Greg and I, early on in talking through the story... knowing Greg knows where this thing goes --and it's pretty incredible-- helped me in terms of directing this one. So I will say we've had those conversations early on.

Greg: Yeah Gina’s absolutely right. One of the things that I'm really-- one of the many things I am proud of is that the movie is a whole, you certainly leave it going ‘okay, there could be more, I can see how there is more’. But it is a complete work. It is not contingent and does not need anything else. That said, there were plenty of times we were having conversations and would jokingly be like, ‘oh that'll be in the next one, we'll do that in the next one. We had to cut this so we’ll put it in the next one’.

P: I'm sure people would be very thrilled, as would I. So we’ll try to remain patient since it's only been out a week--

Greg: I think that's reasonable.

P: [sarcastic] I mean, fans are nothing but reasonable--

Greg: [very loud laughter] You know what 'fan' is short for right? Fanatic.

P: [laughs] So Greg, I'm curious. You know, since this is a pretty unique situation where you wrote the original books but then also came to write the script-- which doesn't always happen all that often. I was kind of curious what that process was like and if, when revisiting that core story, if you were tempted to kind of go off into a new directions, you know, uncharted territory? And how you managed to stay faithful to that story.

Greg: So when Skydance initially acquired The Old Guard, Matt Grimm and Don Granger were the guys that I was working with. And they were very clear that they had acquired it because they loved the source material. So when I was doing the adaptation, it was ‘adapt this story to be told in a screen format, there are changes that have to be made’. I didn't see it so much as like ‘I can go in a different direction!’ as ‘it's a really rare opportunity to have a second bite at the apple’. Most writers don't get to tell the same story twice. And even with the collaborative nature of comics, making a movie is far more collaborative. So… being able to benefit from a lot of very smart people-- and then when Gina came aboard, and working very closely with her on the screenplay, you know, taking her notes, and talking at length about it was… I mean, I love the comic we made, I'm very proud of it. But I think this is a superior story. Because it allowed me to fix mistakes I had made. And I think that it certainly works as the film that we wanted it to be, but it has a lot more nuance and a lot more ‘shading’ than the comics ever could have had. So yeah, I mean, I'm very proud of the work we've done.

P: Yeah, as you should be, definitely agree with that. And I know, Gina, you've spoken about how you treated the source material essentially as a Bible as the blueprint for adapting the movie. So a question kind of for both of you, I was curious what scene or sequence were you most excited to bring to life? And then what scene were you most apprehensive about whether or not you could pull it off as faithful to that original?

Gina: For me, I mean, there was there were certainly a couple... Joe and Nicky in the van.

Greg: [nodding] Yeah.

Gina: Such a beautiful moment in the comic. And I wanted to get it right. I knew the actors really wanted to get it right. As soon as we started shooting, I was like, 'oh yeah, they're killing it'. Also Booker in the mine, the speech that he gives to Nile, it's everything to his character. It explains both Booker and Andy; where they are, and why they are the way that they are in that moment of time. And I know that as a director, I saw a perfect take. But going into those, you hope that, ‘am I able to evoke what I need to evoke in the audience?’ I think that the hardest really was the Kill Floor, given how iconic it is in the comic. It's just so beautifully drawn by Leandro, it pops off the page. So ‘how am I going to be able to do the same thing on film?’ But it really kind of boiled down to ‘what is the story [of the scene]’ and really focus on that first, but also wanting to really give a bit of a homage to what Leandro did too, which was my use of silhouette throughout it.

Greg: Yeah, I think that… Gina just listed all of the scenes. I mean, I wanted to see the armored car, that was enormously rewarding for me… I couldn't wait to see the killing room floor... You know, when we talk about moments of adaptation, I actually —and I thought this was really well handled in the movie in particular— Nile’s death wasn't wasn't easy in the comic, because it needed to have heart. You know, Kiki's performance and the way it's shot is just, it's phenomenal.

P: And obviously you can't really talk about this movie, which is this big action-fantasy movie, without talking about that scene between Joe and Nicky. I'm curious what both of your reactions have been to seeing that moment hit so hard with so many fans.

Greg: I'm overjoyed that we're able to give that to so many people. I am also frustrated that it's so overdue. While I don't think that either Gina or I felt that this was… It was important and special because it was important and special between these characters. But, you know, I mean I’m in that place where I recognize why we are getting the response that we are, and, I'm frustrated by the fact that it's 2020. And… apparently we're the first people to have done this? And you can say that about a lot of the reactions, you can say that about the reactions to Kiki's Nile. You can say that about reactions about Charlize portraying Andy. There’s a piece of me that's like ‘guys, we didn't invent the wheel here. All we did was show you, THERE’S A WHEEL HERE!’. So.

P: Yeah, it's interesting and it is frustrating that it is 2020 and we have to refer to this as an anomaly. That this is not the norm, that as you said, this is we're showing people that the wheel exists. And so Gina, you know, between having a film with two powered, seemingly super-powered characters, in a comic book adaptation, which is largely been devoid of such characters. [I think he meant to say female powered characters?] and being a black woman, directing a comic book adaptation— again, something in 2020 that we have to treat as a shocking revelation— I was curious, if you felt any sort of pressure about that on set, or if it was like just a confidence in the material, and support from your collaborators, that it wasn't even an issue?

Gina: Um, are you talking about the scene-?

P: Just the project as a whole.

Gina: There was a reason I took this film, because it moved me. It has to start there. There's all these things; I love putting a black female in the world, I love putting Nicky and Joe in the world, I love putting Joe’s character in the world. Those are all such incredible driving forces. But foremost, I have to feel and care about the characters in the story. And I did. And so, for me, it felt... I mean I was honored to be able to be the one to give these characters a life up on screen... or in that big screen in your living room. There's, of course, enormous pressure. Not only just doing a film, like the bigness of it. Certainly me being a woman, me being a black woman, and doing this when nobody has done it before… It's about proving myself and proving that women like me can do this, that we do like action, that we can shoot action… Just changing that narrative. So there's pressure to get it right and do a good job, but I feed off of that. It made me work harder because I felt like I absolutely had a responsibility to get it right.

P: And we've talked about Kiki a few times as Nile, of course. And Gina, I know you said it was within five seconds of meeting her that you knew she was the right one to play Nile. I was curious, how did the rest of the casting process go? Did everybody get hired that easily? Or was it a harder search to round out the ensemble?

Greg: Yes. I’m curious too!

Gina: You know, I knew going into this that I wanted great actors for every role and it's pretty amazing how many of my first choices are in this film. I mean Matthias Schoenaerts who plays Booker is an incredible actor and I knew I wanted him from the get-go. We were told he doesn't do films like this, but he wanted to meet, which was the first thing, like, ‘oh my gosh it’s on me, don't blow this meeting’ and he said again to my face, ‘I don't do these movies, but I love this movie’ and he loved the character Booker. And after that conversation and hearing my vision, he was in, which was amazing. Marwan Kenzari, I saw him in this independent film called Wolf—

Greg: Yeahhhhhh.

Gina: Phenomenal. And he was supposed to read for the part. We had a meeting over FaceTime. Then, Zoom was not what it is now. And it was such an incredible meeting. He was so passionate about the material. So passionate about the character Joe. So passionate about wanting to give that speech. His energy… I just said 'you don't need to read, like, you're Joe'. Luca Marinelli, who plays Nicky, I saw his audition. He has this depth to him, those eyes.. where you just, you felt everything, you felt his soul. But I needed to do a chemistry reading, as I would with any love story. And so, we flew him in to read with Marwan. They did this incredible improv, and it was so obvious that these two were Joe and Nicky. It was a really beautiful moment as a director to just… know, and I was so excited to show everybody what they had. It leapt off the screen, their connection; they’d never met before but, immediate connection. Chiwetel Ejiofor, I mean… [awed silence]

Greg: Chiwetel... yeah.

Gina: Yeah. To hear that he wanted to be in this and work with me on this, I didn't need anything else at that point. He's truly a genius. Charlize, you know, there are very few women who can work in the space and we believe them. And that's the thing about her work, and her action, we believe her. And we needed that for Andy. And of course she's a great actress, so it was, you know, that was kind of a no-brainer. So, lastly Harry Melling, you know our villain. It's funny, Don Granger, at Skydance, says you've done a good job with your villain if the audience wants to punch him in the face. Harry brought that reality of those templates of Mark Zuckerberg and Martin Shkreli and really rocked it.

Greg: I had, you know, I'm the screenwriter, right? And I am pretty much involved in the production at the director’s sufferance, and Gina was so gracious to want me present-- and more than that, want me present and say things, right? As opposed to ‘stand here and be quiet’, but I remember when Kiki… when they knew they wanted Kiki, like in that window before all the paperwork was done and so on. Throughout most of the casting I wasn't hearing a lot from Gina, just the occasional update. Like ‘I think we've got…’ and then the Kiki audition came in, and Gina, you called me, Granger texted me, Grimm texted me. And it was all the same thing. It was all ‘we have found Nile, oh my god, there were these two scenes and she had us howling in one and weeping in the other and she is perfect’. And the exuberant joy, you know, I remember you on that call being like ‘NO, THIS IS HER!!’. It's like, this is gonna be awesome.

P: So, and to open things up a little bit more to the actual mythology of the film and the comic book series, I think one of the coolest things is that this film doesn't entirely explore is why these characters come back to life? But we also don't entirely need to know that to just… witness this slice of time in their journey. So I'm kind of curious, maybe Greg you have more insight on this, but I'm curious if either of you have those ideas in your head of what the root of this, you know, blessing or curse, the curse of immortality? Or is that just stuff that's entirely irrelevant to this journey?

Greg: I think it's irrelevant… to the journey of the first film. That the story is a self-contained story and you don't need to know why they are immortal. And I think that the film actually does tell you, not specifically, but the film does provide you with enough information to allow you to draw certain conclusions. Because there are really a limited number of ways that they're going to get this way, right? We do not, for instance, see Nile fall into a vat of regeneration juice, right? That's not why Nile comes back. There is a mythology. We know the mythology. We know the why and that's for later. Yes, maybe it will become relevant to the story, but for this story that was told as it was told? No, you don't need to know why.

Gina: The striking thing, when I read the script for the first time was I didn't… I didn't care. Like, I didn't need it. And that surprised me because I know Greg had talked about another company who was interested in the project [Gina doesn’t say, but it was Sony lmao] kept asking ‘you have to tell us why though, in this story, an audience needs to know why’. He was absolutely right [for disagreeing with Sony]. Because I didn't need to know why.

Greg: It's the Rian Johnson School of, you know, it's Looper. ‘We can spend two hours talking about time travel or you can accept that we're in time travel. Which is it going to be?’ And I think that that is one of the most brilliant storytelling decisions made in the last 20 years in film! Literally 'here it is—DOESN’T MATTER, MOVING ON!’ you know.

P: Yeah. It's definitely a bold direction to take. And to have an issue with 'oh, well, we never learn [about the] immortality!' proves that you just miss the point of what the movie is, and that that stuff is kind of irrelevant for right now. Although I do kind of hope that because it's on Netflix someone's expecting like a post credit scene, but it's the autoplay feature, right? [Greg and Patrick talk over eachother, laughing]

Greg: We did talk about that button as a post-credit scene, the Booker [scene]—

Gina: That was originally supposed to be a tag.

Greg: And there was, for a while, the contemplation of ‘maybe we can still [put the Booker scene in as a post-credit scene] and really that'll be like a great big reward for those people who actually watch credits on Netflix. It’s like, you got a bonus scene!’

P: So another, you know, people are loving the characters, they're loving the performances, but also the action is so cool in it, and it feels reminiscent of some other films. But the urgency and efficiency of all of the action sequences always feel like they have a point, and they're not just ‘look what we can pull off this week!’ You know, it's not John Wick on a horse fighting motorcycles because we don't need to do that. It's, you know, always to a point. So I'm kind of curious Greg, what does an action scene look like in your script? And then Gina, what was your whole motivation for putting these action scenes together?

Greg: I had two approaches in this script and used both. Sometimes I would write the sequence as you know, as a series-- this is what is happening, ‘he swings and then his head goes flying’ or whatnot. But knowing very well that unless the script needed to see-- because the script has to specify what is a must. It's a must. It's a must document. ‘We must see this’. ‘We must know this information’. So for a lot of the time, I would sort of drop into a narrative voice and say, ‘okay, now we watch the five of them proceeded to kick every ass and take every name that they come across and please bear in mind you are watching over 10,000 years of combat experience, combined between them’. And then that's the description of an action sequence, right? The screenplay… it's a construction document. It's not the interior decorator’s document. It's not even the Foreman's document. It's an architectural document. And then you give it to the Foreman of the whole production, who then goes, ‘I agree, these are the important things’, and then you get out of their way and watch them do the thing that they have, you know, become an expert at doing to make it happen.

P: Gina, what's your reaction when you read Greg’s script saying, ‘oh, you know, just five immortal warriors demonstrating 10,000 years of combat experience’?

Gina: It's like ‘oh shit’. [everyone laughs] Like that's a very cool thing to read—

Greg: But how do you film it?

Gina: Yeah, exactly! Then you start at the beginning of the scene and 'what character can we reveal in the scene'? And when you start like that, it's less overwhelming. Because the best action sequences for me, when I go to the movies, are those that have a story to them and that are character driven, that have an emotion. So I really started there in the vision of what they should be and just working with my incredible, incredible stunt team, Jeff Habberstad and Danny Hernandez and Bryson Counts[? I dont know who that is]. Designing these fights to tell this story, to showcase this part of character, to further the story. And that was important as well, that we never wanted this film to feel like… rushing through the story to get to each action sequence. All of this works seamlessly. The quiet moments are just as important as the action moments. And so that was exciting to me. But being able to tell the story, reveal character, that was fun. And then it's ‘yeah, how do we choreograph so it feels as if these characters finish each other sentences, so to speak, in terms of action, knowing where the other is going to be, knowing when somebody's out of bullets and need another clip?' Like all those things, the way that they're always picking up used guns and used clips, just this dance. And it was very cool, you know, to really put that together and see what the team came up with. And then to see the actors embody that, bring character, bring performance to that. Which is why it was so great that I had the actual actors doing most of the work, so that we can see that performance.

Greg: I think you used a word that I think clearly came from what Gina’s describing and talking about with working with Danny and Jeff and Bryson. Which is 'efficient'. Like, if you watch the film, you will see that there is only one sequence where Andy is ever firing more than twice, and it is on the killing room floor. After that, whenever she fires a gun, it's one bullet. It goes exactly where she wants it to go. Everything she does becomes an issue of ‘her style is efficiency—‘

Gina: Yeah, that was a big—‘brutal efficiency’ is a term we talked about often, where they know a kill shot. They are not the type that are going to go in an environment and spray. It's lazy and not who they are. They are not going to ever hit someone by accident. They are too good. And their moral code is not like an ordinary For Hire who are just trying to get the target by any means necessary.

P: Yeah, and also speaking to what I feel set these action sequences apart from other action films is, we're used to, you know, like thumping techno or hard rock or something kick in. You know, I don't think anyone had like, you know, Frank Ocean being in an action film on Netflix on their 2020 Bingo cards. So I'm just kind of curious how you put that soundtrack together and what that process was like.

Gina: Yeah. I love music so much. It's so much a part of me as an artist. And for me, I love songs for scores, songs that can evoke an emotion, and elevate a scene or the emotion of a scene without taking it over. And music for this film was so important, to the tone. It was such a balance. This is a violent film, yet I never wanted it to feel like a celebration of violence. The fact that there was a cost to the killing and then motion to the killing. So always wanted to keep that in mind-- and music really helped with that. There's also a thing of, you know, I'm the first audience and I actually don't like heavy metal. So, it annoys me when I watch a movie and it's this non-stop thump. In the rectory —spoiler alert— when Andy kills 19 people, the music I chose was important because it took away the sting of that. I didn't want an audience to revel in ‘oh my God, she killed 19 people’. No, it was ‘she killed 19 people and you see on her face that this was not fun, this was not easy’. You see that on Nile’s face when she walks out, and the music helped that. I wanted the music to feel operatic, because what happened in that room did have that depth of emotion, so music again— so important for vibe and tone and it was fun to find these songs that could do exactly what I wanted them to do.

P: Greg, the narrative is definitely very faithful to the first two Old Guard series and, you know, blends together in this compelling and unique way… Just as a —you know, we are comicbook.com— so coming from the purest sense of interpreting the narrative... [Greg laughs] like there's definitely the flashback with Achilles from the comic book, and then also the flashback to Booker's hanging scene. Those are our absent from the film. And I was just curious if those were ever in the script or if you want to rework them for the future…?

Greg: No, I mean we also had, in the original series, the flashback that sort of accounts the Joe and Nicky, ‘we killed each other’, ‘many times’ sequence as well. There were drafts where all of that was there. And sometimes in greater detail than others. There was a version where that hospital scene— [in the movie] you get just the right amount of… when Booker's relaying it to Nile in the mine. But, you know, there was more to that, and you can see sort of Achilles' story’s presence in the mine, right? There's a glimpse of the painting. So those things weren't erased as much as… when you make a comic, every choice you are making is an efficiency choice. ‘You have X many pages, how are you going to spend them?’ And I'm not a filmmaker. I'm the guy who wrote the thing. But one of the things I can tell you when watching is that it's the same calculus but exponentially. It is— every single thing you are doing is asking if it's serving your narrative. And I think the trade —because it is a trade— of the Achilles backstory to build the Quynh story has a benefit that the Achilles story alone didn't have, in that the Quynh story —especially as it's relayed in the movie— not only does it illuminate Joe, Nicky, Booker, and of course Andy, but it's also Illuminating to Nile, in a way that… talking about Achilles would have been repeating a beat. Because as beautiful, and as important, Achilles is to Andy's character… Booker conveys that heartbreak with his story, right? So it becomes an efficiency question as much as anything else. I mean, that that's really what it comes down to.

P: Speaking to some of the changes again, I don't want to get to spoiler heavy but there's definitely a big change with one character and their possible fate. Don't want to ruin anything for anyone, so trying to play it safe.

Greg: [laughing] Yeah, how are we supposed to answer this, Patrick?

P: Why don't we just text each other? [everyone laughs] Well, I'm kind of curious. One character's trajectory has changed a little bit. What were the discussions like over, you know, altering their trajectory and what that could mean, you know, for their future adventures?

Greg: Well, how do we talk around this?

P: Also, if anyone's been watching this for 40 minutes and hasn't seen the movie, they've got to adjust their priorities.

Gina: I would say, it was about adding more jeopardy and stakes. It absolutely did that. What I love so much about the story and what Greg created is that these characters are mostly immortal. So there is always that threat. But it just added another level to that. But it also crystallized so well… the fact that the moment that Andy is truly saying ‘I'm done’ a new Immortal shows up in Nile. So it just seemed to work really well and, you know, obviously having Greg be so on board with that and take it and run with it was really important.

Greg: It externalizes the conflict beautifully. And I believe I think David Ellison at Skydance likes the term downward pressure, I believe. [Gina smiles, Greg sees] Did you hear that? Did you hear that during editing? [Gina nods] But it does. Look, here's a fundamental problem; it's actually one of the problems at the heart of Force Multiplied: what's jeopardy to an immortal? Cuz it's kind of, you know, as Joe says, ‘what are you gonna do, tough guy? Kill me?’ You know, ‘if I go, I go. I don't know when I'm going’. So you you need to be able to inject into the story some level of jeopardy. You want to heighten the stakes. And it also externalizes that particular character’s conflict.

P: Gina, hopefully I don't put you too much on the spot with this question. But, you know, any time there's a big comic book project announced its, you know, fans start saying, oh, I'd love this person who's done action movies to do it’ or ‘this person who’s already done 10 Sci-Fi movies…’, you know, like Taika Waititi can't direct every movie.

Gina: I would love him to!

P: I'm just actually kind of curious, Gina, if there are any directors that you're particularly a fan of who don't necessarily have the same, you know, Marvel DC, Star Wars experience that that you'd love to hear get announced as tackling, you know, a big budget comic book movie.

Greg: I would like to know too.

Gina: Certainly, I'm excited about what Victoria Mahoney's going to be doing-- she just did second unit [director] on Star Wars, first woman to ever do that. I dig her brain so much and her aesthetic. I'm really excited to see what she's going to do in the action space, certainly.

P: Yeah, very cool. Really looking forward to her career for sure. And I think we're just about out of time here. We were down—

Gina: [raising her hand] Can I ask a question real quick? Sorry, I just need a definitive answer on this because I got called out on Twitter and I asked Greg--

Greg: [laughing] Ohhhhhhh—

Gina: So is Old Guard, is it a graphic novel? Or is it a comic?

Greg: You got to answer that Patrick.

P: Oh boy.

Greg: [laughing] Literally he's watching all credibility start to evaporate if he doesn't get this right. [holding up a comic of Opening Fire] This is a what?

P: I mean… part of me, knowing that it is part one of a three-part overall series… You know, my brain goes to ‘trade paperback’, you know, like it's a volume collecting a certain amount of issues. But if you ask me before volume 2 came out, it would be collected as a graphic novel, but… they're all comic books. They're all just comic books, everybody. Let's just take it easy.

Gina: Okay, thank you.

P: That's my answer.

Greg: Thank you. Thank you. I think that is the appropriate answer.

P: They're all just comic books. Take it easy.

P: Yeah, but I am curious. Of course, one of the interesting things about the film is that over the course of hundreds… thousands of years, these characters, the old guard have kind of influenced humanity in some definitely interesting ways… And ultimately for good, is a little bit of what we're seeing in the film. And I can't help but wonder… is it possible that the old guard could have unintentionally influenced the world for bad? And have some negative ripples come from their actions, or do I have to wait for a sequel for that?

Greg: I think that is a very reasonable and logical question to ask, especially when you know, there are 19 dead bodies lying in a church. You know what I mean? There is a certain amount— and it's almost fatuous to talk about it but there is always the doctrine of unintended consequences. I will say this goes to something else— and I'll say it really quickly because I know we're running out of time. I think one of the things that I really, really loved about what's being said, in the movie, is that at the end of the film… The definitive statement is, if you take away everything about immortality, what it's saying is that… our choices matter and our actions matter and they matter in ways and to people that we will never see and never know of. We try to put right in the world by doing right. And we do that without ever seeing what the ramifications of it are. And sometimes we're going to succeed, gloriously, and sometimes we're going to fail and we may never know that either, right? It's the choice paralysis that that you get from cheating in The Good Place, right? I can't eat or drink or move because morally it's all wrong, right? But the takeaway from the film is that, ‘yeah, your life matters and what you do with it matters and it matters to people that you're never ever going to see.’

P: So yeah. Yeah. Well, I mean, I think that's a great positive, you know, message for us to leave on. And I definitely think that comes across in the film, especially, you know, from the characters like Joe and Nicky just professing… you know, it's about the time that you have. And you don't know when your number is going to be up. So you just try and do as many good things before that happens as you can, and hopefully the world responds to that. So I really connected with that message in the film. Thanks so much for taking the time to chat with me. The Old Guard has been out for… five days. So I look forward to reuniting--

Greg: Does it feel longer to you. Gina? It feels like it's longer for me. [Gina laughs]

P: I look forward to reuniting in maybe 10 more days to talk about the sequel and spin-off and the prequel and all that sort of thing. [Greg laughs] But for now, The Old Guard is still on Netflix. And of course don't be tricked into watching any post-credit scenes because you might end up watching, you know, The Great British Bake Off. Well, thanks so much guys, it was a pleasure.

[icollectyoursins]

Okuyasu x Fem!Reader SFW

martinbolseiro asked "If requests are still open I would like to ask you for a Stroheim x Female reader fluff / nsfw nº24 and nº82 please hihiihi and Okuyasu x Female reader fluff nº1 and nº10 “

Reader and Okuyasu are in high school for this one, just so it’s not weird with an adult dating a teen. We do not stand for that here. I also use (L/N) which will stand for your last name in this.

You had the unfortunate luck of getting sick in the middle of the school year and your boyfriend has just the thing to cheer you up! I mean, what could be better than him visiting you with your movie, munchies and drinks? Nothing. That’s what.

First part of the request is here.

No. 1 "Shh, don't cry. I'll always be here." 

No. 10 "I'll keep you warm, come here."

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: None, reader is sick, so there’s talk of that. Also some Tonio stuff at the end, nothing too graphic though.

Word Count: 1308

     A loud, painful cough thundered in your lungs making you wince. It was just a cold, but still, you felt like hell. You groaned, lying back down on your bed, tossing the tissue to the side. Suddenly, you began to think about all the school you were missing and felt worse. It was only a week, but still missing five days of school could be the equivalent of missing a month depending on the subject.

     While in the midst of your self-loathing, you heard a shout from outside your window.

     “Oi! (Y/N)!” Okuyasu. You groaned, begrudgingly getting out of bed and opening the window. “Hii, (Y/N)!”

     “Hi, Okuyasu,” you grumbled. Not that you weren’t happy to see him, he always seemed to brighten your day, but frankly, you didn’t want to see anyone right now. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

     “No! We just finished.” You furrowed your brows, it couldn’t be time for home already, could it? A glance over to your clock proved that school was indeed done for the day. “Hi, miss (L/N). Can I come in to see (Y/N)? I have some work for her.”

     “Not for too long. Wouldn’t want you getting sick too!” Your mom replied, stern but somehow still cheery. 

     “Ookay.” With that, he was practically running up the stairs to your bedroom and bursting through the door. “Hey! How are you feeling?”

     You sighed with a roll of your eyes. “Okuyasu, you’re going to get sick, don’t- hey! No, don’t hug me-ah!”

     “I missed you!” He had lifted you up into a bear hug. A very warm and comforting bear hug. You couldn’t really be mad at him as he gently set you on your feet and started going on about what had transpired the week you were away. Though you weren’t entirely sure it was true, it was entertaining getting all the info on the drama when you weren’t there.

     “Wow. Didn’t think she’d do something like that,” you comment as he’s telling you about what one of the cheerleaders did to the other. It made you feel so glad you didn’t join the team or any other team for that matter. You were perfectly happy and busy running around after your lovable fool and his friend. 

     “Yeah, it was wild. Teachers didn’t even know what to do! They were just as shocked as we were,” he burst out laughing, tossing his head back and wiping away a tear.

     Suddenly you were sent into another coughing fit, covering your mouth with your elbow. At first, he panicked, then saw the tissues and the glass of water on your nightstand, running to grab them. He knelt next to you, eyes wide while he rubbed your back until it subsided. He offered you the glass first before settling down to sit cross-legged. You groaned when he pulled you closer so you were leaning against him.

     “Okuyasu, you’re gonna get sick,” you mumble, eyes slowly drooping into sleep. He was so warm and comfy. The perfect human pillow. He laughed at you.

     “I never get sick! And if I do, I just go to Tonio’s! Heyy, that’s an idea! Let’s go to Tonio’s!” Okuyasu was suddenly getting up, pulling you with him. Then, he went through your closet, looking for something for you to wear. 

     “I really don’t think I’m in the best of shape to go somewhere.” You sit down on your bed with a sniffle.

     “It’ll be fine!” He reassures you. “Besides, isn’t fresh air supposed to be good for you? Here, wear this. I’ll be downstairs waiting.”

     He tosses some nice-looking, comfy clothes and excitedly exits your room. You sigh. There really wasn’t a way to stop him at this point, so you got into your clothes, changing the shirt to something less cartoony to a plain single-coloured tee with less stains. Maybe he was right. You would feel better if you went outside and something other than your mom’s cooking sounded so nice right about now. Whatever, what’s the worst that could happen.

     When you got downstairs Okuyasu had already sold your mom on the idea of going out. She cheerily told you to have fun and be back before curfew as you walked out the door. He grinned proudly, wrapping an arm around you while you made your way to the bus station.

--------

     The bus ride to the little restaurant by the graveyard was full of idle chatter about school again and what he was planning on doing when he got home. A new game came out recently, so he and Josuke agreed to play it together.

     “You can come-” he asked, quickly covering it up with a hasty “-if you want! I don’t know. Josuke isn’t one to share his games, but I might convince him.”

     You laughed. “Well, if you can convince my mum to let me outside, you can probably get anyone to do whatever you wanted. But, Okuyasu, I’m sick, remember.”

     “Ha! Just wait. Tonio can cure anything with his food. It’s the best in the world.” You rolled your eyes, only half believing him. You hadn’t been to Tonio’s before but your boyfriend never shut up about how good the food was.

     “As long as you’re paying,” you elbowed his side, teasing him. He looks shocked.

     “Of course, I am! What kind of man doesn’t buy his lady food?” He mutters under his breath, seriously asking. You just laugh again. 

     The walk from the bus stop to the restaurant was thankfully short, but you swore could smell the food cooking from a mile away. Okuyasu grabbed your hand, gently pulling you behind him. He burst through the doors, happily calling out Tonio’s name. They exchanged hellos while you were sat at the table.

     “Um, is there a menu?” You asked awkwardly. They laughed.

     “No! Tonio makes whatever you need. He knows everything! Here, have the water.” He sets your cup down in front of you while Tonio goes off to make whatever it was he thought you needed. Your boyfriend practically shook with excitement while he waited for you to take your first sip.

     Your eyes grew wide with shock as the water hit your tongue. It was the best water you had ever had. Was it from a well or something? You glugged down the rest, then suddenly you were crying and couldn’t stop. Okuyasu, though still smiling, rubbed your back, soothing you. Just like that, it stopped and your eyes felt better than they ever had before. They weren’t scratchy or tired. You were wide awake!

     “See? Don’t you feel better?” He asked, petting your head.

     “Yeah, actually. I do. What the hell is in that water?” He chuckles to himself, muttering something that sounded like ‘sand tomes?’ You were about to ask him to say that again, but Tonio came back with a bowl in his hand.

     “Chicken noodle soup! Enjoy!” He called out, disappearing back into the kitchen.

     It was the best-smelling chicken noodle soup. Without wasting another minute, you dug in. Okuyasu was right. This was the best food in the world. You finished in record timing, humming happily. Then you started coughing again. You grabbed a napkin and coughed into it. It felt like you were literally hacking up a lung or some other organ. One large inhale of breath and it magically subsided.

     You could breathe so much better now! How? That was- how?

     Okuyasu leaned back with his arms behind his head and his feet kicked up on another chair. You could feel the confidence radiating off of him. 

     “How do you feel, (Y/N)?” He asked, cocky as all hell. “Wanna go hang at Josuke’s?” You stared at him awestruck while he laughed loudly. The only thoughts you had were: thank you? Then, my boyfriend is crazy and finally what the hell just happened?

[thebrochtuarachs]

Something in the Rain - “Finding Solid Ground”

A/N:  Hi all! This chapter has been in the drafts for quite sometime now but I only had the time to pick up the writing. Thank you so much for your patience with my slow updates but rest assured, I absolutely love this story and daydream about the chapters ahead. As always, your comment and suggestions help a lot moving this story forward. Hope you all are keeping safe and healthy! Till the next one!

AO3  / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch

XXXXX

She was 45 minutes late.

Claire was running as fast as she could, catching some curious eyes on her as she raced towards Mrs. Kim’s Korean Street Food Hub to hopefully, still catch Jamie for their lunch.

She got off from her morning surgery quite late due to some complications but she still went as courtesy and because, in all honesty, she still wanted to see him. Their last encounter kind of left them in an awkward place and she was hoping that this meeting could help clarify some things. She has been waiting for this all week but alas, life (and medicine) had other plans.

Claire entered the store and knew instantly that he wasn’t there. The place was empty after the lunch rush and she sighed in disappointment.

“Claire!” Mrs. Kim suddenly called out. “This is for you, left by your friend”, she said while handing her a piece of paper.

“Thank you” Claire replied, opening it on spot.

Hi Claire,

Sorry, I left before you arrived but I have to get back to the office. Don’t worry about the wait, I really don’t mind but I just have a packed schedule today.

Forgive me if this is too forward but here’s my number. No pressure! Just figured we can text or call whenever is a better time to catch up. Just hit me up when you feel like it and I’ll be on the other line.

I do hope to hear from you soon. If not, I’ll be here next Friday, same time :)

Jamie

Claire did not waste any more time and punched in Jamie’s mobile number to call. After three rings, he answered.

“Hello?”

“Jamie? It’s me, Claire.”

“Claire, hi! I see you got my note.”

“I did. I am so sorry. My surgery ran a little bit long and…”

“Don’t worry, I figured that must be it.” he said cheerfully, cutting her off before she went into a long explanation. “I mean, you save lives and all, couldn’t be angry about that.”

Claire sighed relief on the other line and couldn’t believe just how understanding he is. So understanding that she’s starting to wonder if he’s even real. She hasn't really met anyone that chivalrous and it captures her.

“Oh, wow. Thank you - and thank you for the note and your number. My guilt would’ve eaten me alive if I couldn’t apologize to you.”

“You don’t think it was too forward?”

“No, not at all. To be honest, I was going to ask it last week before we got, erm, interrupted.”

“Well, that’s good to know. And in any case, I would’ve given it.” Jamie said.

She could hear his smile from the other line and she couldn’t help but smile too.

“Anyhow,” Claire followed. “I am so sorry I missed you today. To make up for it, would you happen to be doing anything tomorrow?”

“Hmm, let me check." Jamie checked his board calendar. "Nope, my weekend is free. Anything you had in mind?”

“Well, if you’re up for it, I’d like to invite you to the center tomorrow, see what we’re doing with the kids. Fair warning though, they get a little rowdy sometimes.”

“I’m game! Text me the details and what time to meet you.”

“Really? Great! Sure, I’ll text you the details in a bit”

“Will wait for it. Claire, sorry to cut this short but I have to run to a meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Oh no, please. Go ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow, Alright, bye!”

-

It was a Saturday, two weeks since their encounter by the crossing, and now she’s waiting for him to arrive and bring him to one of the most special places for her.

Claire hadn’t absolutely thought through what inviting Jamie to the center would mean. Reflecting on yesterday, a part of Claire thought she may have panicked and this invite might’ve been a mistake. On another end was a part of her that was excited to see him and if she was really being honest, spend time with him, and show her the work they have been doing.

She had told her their meeting story and the extended invite to her friends and staff but left out the part about their lunches. She messaged the team on WhatsApp about their upcoming guest and her inbox has blown with messages asking her for more details about the man himself. She messaged that they’ll be able to find out for themselves tomorrow when they meet him and turned off her phone.

“Claire?” Deep in thought she hadn’t seen or hear Jamie arrive. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Spaced out there for a bit” she embarrassingly admitted.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Jamie asked as Claire pointed the way in.

“Erm, nothing much. Just thinking about giving you fair warning about everyone upstairs. They’re quite curious about you, Jamie Fraser.” she said jokingly the half truth.

Jamie got a bit nervous suddenly and Claire felt it. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll save you if they get too rowdy. Be ready to answer questions though." She said, smiling, hoping to ease his thoughts.

“Is any topic off limits? Should I not mention anything to them?”

“I leave it to you. But if you ask me, just be yourself and charm everyone away”

Jamie chuckled and Claire turned to him. “What?”

“You think I’m charming?”

Claire laughed and smacked him in the arm. “Oh, bug off!”

“I’ll take that as a yes”

“Anyway!” Claire interrupted. “Today’s event is just art and crafts and a story session. The rest, the kids can do and play how ever they like. I usually just play with any kid who asks me to and time just flies and suddenly, the afternoon is done.”

“Got it. I honestly hope I can help more than distract or whatever”

“Pssh, you’ll be fine, Jamie. You’ll be fine”

--

The moment the elevator doors opened, a line of people greeted Jamie and Claire at the entrance.

“Hello, everyone” Claire greeted but to her surprise, no one spoke or moved. Everyone was just looking at Jamie. “This is Jamie. Jamie Fraser, our guest for today”

She ushered them closer to the stunned group and began to introduce them one by one.

Mary, the receptionist and admin assistant.

Mrs. Graham, the secretariat and head of operations.

Joe, also a surgeon from Claire’s hospital.

Frank, the history professor he’d met a week earlier.

Geilis, a botanist and herbalist.

“It’s nice to meet you all. Thank you for having me this afternoon.” Jamie said and it was only then that the ice was broken.

“Hi, Jamie was it? Can I call you Jamie?” Mrs. Graham prodded.

“Yes, Mam”

“Alright, this way. Let me show you around”

As Mrs. Graham swept Jamie away for a short tour, the rest of the group crowded Claire with questions.

“Okay, he is even more handsome than in the pictures!” Geilis excitedly said.

“Pictures?” Claire asked.

“Ugh, I sometimes forget you’re a doctor who needs to catch up to the times” Geilis pinched her nose jokingly. “Jamie was named one of Scotland’s most eligible bachelors in a tatler magazine last year. There’s pretty striking photos of him in a tux and in casual clothes.”

“I remember that issue. Gail had one lying in the house and I happen to peruse it one time. You’re right, the pictures don’t do him justice.” Joe chimed in.

“I had no idea. I mean, I just literally bumped into the guy on the street!” Claire said, a curiosity pooling in her mind. She had to look for that magazine later.

“Such a meet-cute story. Ugh, Claire! It’s like something out of the books or movies” Geilis added.

“Psh, he seems too manly for me. I mean, who is that fit and that put together.” Frank mused.

“I think he’s quite charming” Joe added.

“If you ask me, Claire, I don’t know what’s going on between you two but keep it going” Geilis added.

“Aish, nothing is going on. I just extended a polite invite to make up for - “ Claire stopped as Jamie and Mrs. Graham arrived back, thankful for the Interruption.

“Make up for what?” Geilis asked, not missing that info.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Mhm” Geilis hummed raising an eyebrow to Claire. She’ll pull it out of her later.

---

It was a long but fun afternoon for everyone.

Afterwards, one by one, the space cleared out, the kids were picked up, saying goodbye to the staff with some even approaching and waving at Jamie as they left, leaving him with a heartwarming feeling.

“Well, another successful weekend, folks!” Frank called out and the team gave themselves applause.

“Great job to Joe and Mary for taking on the storytelling and painting sessions this afternoon and I would also like to thank our guest, Jamie, for being patient and helpful with the kids” Mrs. Graham added, earning another group applause.

“Thank ye, I hope I helped at all today but otherwise, I enjoyed today and thank ye for inviting me.” Jamie shared.

“Come join us anytime” Joe patted him on the back. “Alright, everyone, have a goodnight. See you all next week, I’ll bring Gail and Lenny along.” With that he made a way for the elevator and it was everyone’s cue to leave.

Claire approached Jamie just as he was going to her. “Well, how are you and how was it?” she asked. If she expected to spend time with Jamie, well, it didn’t happen. First, he was whisked away by Mrs. Graham. Afterwards, it was Joe asking help to build his set. Next up was Mary who got him assisting on getting and serving the food, and the rest of the time, it was kids calling out on Jamie here and there and he was more than happy to oblige.

“Fun and a little bit tiring” he replied and Claire gave a small laugh. “But in all honesty, thank ye for inviting me to come here. Made me miss my niece and nephew”

“I’m glad you had fun and I’m glad you got to see what we’re doing here.”

Jamie might be overthinking things but he knew that Claire sharing this part of her to him seems like a big thing and he intends to cherish that.

“Anyway, I’d like to offer to drive ye home...or to the nearest bus stop” he added, panicking he put her in a tight spot.

Claire paused, eyed him jokingly, intentionally making him more flush and nervous.

“I’d take that offer but” she began and Jamie swallowed the lump on his throat, “I actually live nearby so we don’t need to drive”

“Okay,” Jamie sighed in relief which Claire found very cute. “Lead the way, then”

[missjanjie]

Speech & Debate | Jankie

this is a commission for @violetloves based off of this post from the fic title meme - a high school au where jan joins the debate club that jackie is the captain of.

Ship: Jankie Word Count: 1.2k Rating: T

comission info ko-fi

“Literally what am I supposed to do with myself?” Jan lamented as she sprawled out across her bed. “Soccer and theatre are the two pillars of my personality, I don’t know who I am without them.”

Rosé quirked her brow. “I feel like that’s an issue in and of itself that you need to unpack,” she remarked. “But there are tons of other clubs and shit, why don’t you just pick something else to do?”

She let out a disgruntled whine and hid her face in her pillows. “Like what?”

“You run your mouth a whole fucking lot, why not debate club or something like that?”

Jan pouted, but she had to admit that Rosé might be onto something. “It just seems so serious… but I guess I could check out a meeting and see what it’s like. God knows I need to find a way to kill time or I’ll go insane.”

Rosé chuckled, “it’s cute that you think you haven’t already.”

-

Debate club was held in the classroom of the Social Studies teacher that advised it. The desks were organized into a circle and more than half of the room was filled. Jan didn’t expect to feel nervous, but in a room full of students that she was certain were more smarter than she, she felt intimidated. But she sat down and dropped her bag at her feet and did her best to compose herself.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you here before, your first time?”

Jan was able to recognize the girl immediately - Jackie was the class president as well as part of the debate club’s executive board. They’d never spoken before, but she could appreciate someone as passionate and ambitious as herself. “Yeah, um, I suddenly found myself with more free time than I know what to do with.”

Jackie nodded understandingly. “You’re on the soccer team, aren’t you?” she asked, then when she noticed the crutches and the brace on Jan’s lower leg, she frowned in sympathy. “Ah, she’s down for the count. But don’t worry, we always welcome new people here.”

The calm kindness in Jackie’s voice put her right at ease. “Thanks, I’m just hoping my penchant for arguing serves me well here,” she told her, then smiled when it made Jackie laugh.

Once the meeting started, Jan sat and listened for the first round. She was attentive and took notes, nodding as she tried to absorb as much as possible.

“Okay, does anyone have any further arguments on the subject?” Jackie prompted, then smiled softly when she saw Jan’s hand shoot up. “The floor is yours, Jan.”

When Jan took the floor, she undoubtedly held everyone’s attention. While she spoke with passion and enthusiasm, her points didn’t have much strength behind it, it almost seemed like she was talking for the sake of hearing her own voice. But when her time was up, she sat back down with a satisfied smile.

“Someone watched Legally Blonde one too many times,” she overheard a student a few seats over whisper. The hushed laughter at her expense made her face heat up as she looked down at her desk, chewing on her lip.

Jackie observed this and tossed a crumpled up paper at the student. “Knock it off,” she chastised, then glanced over at Jan, offering a reassuring wink.

The rest of the session went off without a hitch, and as the students were gathering their things to leave, Jackie made her way over to Jan. “So, what’d you think?”

“I had fun… but I don’t think I’d be much of an asset to the team,” she admitted with a pout.

The older teen frowned sympathetically. “Hey, I think you did well for your first time. I like your energy, I can tell you’re amazing on the stage.” She tilted her head in thought for a moment then suggested, “why don’t you come over sometime? I can help you, give you some pointers and whatnot.”

Jan nodded brightly at that. “That’d be great!”

It wasn’t a one-time debate tutoring session, though. Jackie found herself going over to Jan’s house nearly every day. And sure, there was some time dedicated to refining Jan’s debating prowess, but a significantly larger portion ended up being spent just talking, watching tv, eating more food than they planned on. It even led to Jackie getting lectured by her mother after not coming home until nearly one in the morning one night.

Which was why it shouldn’t have surprised Jan when she made a sudden realization while recapping these events to Rosé. “Oh my god,” she’d stopped in the middle of a sentence with a change in train of thought, “I think I have a crush on Jackie.”

Rosé snorted with laughter. “You think?”

She pouted and crossed her arms. “Don’t be mean! What am I supposed to do about it?”

Her friend stared at her blankly, wondering how someone so talented in so many things could lack such basic critical thinking skills. “What do you mean, what are you supposed to do? You ask her out, do I need to spell it out for you?”

Jan rolled her eyes. “No… but what if she’s not interested? Just because she likes girls doesn’t mean she likes me.”

“Well, you won’t know if you don’t do something about it.”

-

Rosé’s words had lingered in Jan’s mind the next couple times she was with Jackie, but both times, she had chickened out. Maybe the third time’s the charm, she thought to herself, determined to see things through.

“Are you okay?” Jackie asked as she observed her. “You seem… rather lost in thought. Something on your mind?”

“No… well, yes… but like, not exactly…” Jan hemmed and hawed as she went back and forth between backing out for the third time. her eyes focused on anything that wasn’t Jackie, afraid that would be the final straw that psyched her out.

But nothing could have prepared her for what Jackie blurted out next. “I have feelings for you.”

That snapped Jan right back into focus. “I… What? You do?” She didn’t wait for Jackie’s response before letting out a large sigh of relief. “Oh thank god, I’ve been trying to tell you the same thing almost all week,” she confessed, unable to help but laugh at herself.

“You’re so cute,” Jackie chuckled fondly, shifting closer to Jan, close enough for the sugar and vanilla scent of her perfume to hit her. “I’m gonna kiss you now, is that okay?” Once Jan gave her an enthusiastic nod, she cupped her face and placed a deep kiss to her lips.

Jan kissed back eagerly, fervently, her hands latching onto Jackie’s blouse, gripping the fabric. She lost herself in the moment, how good her lips felt against her own. Her head was spinning when they came up for air, her chest rising and falling slowly.

“Wow,” Jackie exhaled, blinking rapidly to bring her surroundings back into focus, “looks like your mouth is even more skilled than I thought.”

Her lips curled into a smirk. “Maybe after you take me on a date, I can show you just how wide my repertoire is,” she winked.

[wiypt-writes]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Prologue: Well, Fuck Me!

Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Intro: The Losers infiltrate a child sex trafficking operation based in the Middle East thanks to their new inside woman...only she isn’t new to all the team.

Warnings: Bad Language. Smut (NSFW, 18+) Mentions of child slavery

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

The mission was simple, well, on paper. Clay and the rest of his specially selected Black-Ops team were charged with bringing down a child sex trafficking ring being operated by a number of corrupt US and UK Soldiers who were currently stationed in Iraq. His person on the inside had successfully infiltrated the ring following a 6 month period of being undercover and thanks to them they now knew how it was being operated. The kids targeted were orphans, so there was no one there to make a fuss or protect them. They were taken from the streets, refugee camps and then smuggled into Turkey (not Syria as they had originally thought)  where they were transported to Hakkari before being auctioned off and handed over to whoever it was that had bought them for the evening, ready for whatever disgusting fate awaited them. This process was repeated several times over a week, before the kids were then disposed of before a fresh new bunch brought in for the next auction in three months time.  It was slick, well organised, and fucking disgusting. But Clay knew he had to keep that disgust at bay, if he had any chance of keeping his cover. Earlier that day Cougar had successfully taken out one of the original players who would be attending the auction, thanks once more to the info their insider had passed on, and Clay had taken his place. He sat in the plush, velvet arm-chair which surrounded a dimly lit stage, a glass of scotch in one hand, cuban in the other. Coupled with his dark suit and open collar white shirt, he looked to be a seamless copy of the the rest of the perverts lounging in equally opulent seats around the circle.  A literal paedophile ring.  "In position..."   Roque spoke into the tiny ear-piece Clay was wearing. He had no microphone, nothing. Wearing anything like that was far too big a risk, but the ear piece as designed by Jensen was far too small for them to have noticed. It meant he could still hear what was going on, and once he gave the signal his team plus the rest of the CIA officers waiting outside would swamp the place. And if a few of the perverts happened to hit a few steps or fists on their way out, no one was going to cry about it.  "We have visual on you Colonel..."  Pooch spoke again "Jensen hacked the CCTV and is now about to cut their comms..." "Easy as pie..." Jensen muttered  "And as I am a genius, they are now officially unable to contact the outside world..." "If you're a genius then they seriously need to rethink what they call Einstein..."  Pooch retorted. “Shut up Pooch, not my fault you can't even figure out how to work a laptop..." "Enough!"  Roque cut across the banter, Cougar's chuckle hitting Clay's ear as he watched a pretty, slim blonde Woman striding onto stage. "It's starting. Keep comms clear until further instructions received." Clay looked at the woman, her black dress was tight leaving little to the imagination. Her hair was pulled back into a high pony-tail and her lips were painted a blood red. Dark eyeshadow adorned her lids and her calculating blue eyes scanned the room, falling on him for a second before she continued looking around, a smile curling across her face. She looked the part of a Gentlemans Club owner. Pristine, perfectly put together, but she was a female pimp- nothing more, nothing less.  "Gentlemen, welcome." she spoke, her soft American accent cutting across the rooms and Clay noted the slight New-England twang she had. "The Auction is about to begin but I must first of all run down a few rules with you. You will find to your right your bidding pads. Should you wish to bid, tap the button. Simply put, highest bidder wins. Once your purchase has been made and the monies have been collected from your specified accounts, you will be invited to meet with your latest acquisition in the specially provided rooms. They are yours to do with as you wish until 9 am tomorrow morning upon which time they will be collected from your rooms and your personal effects will be returned. All we ask is that you do not kill them. It becomes messy and attracts unnecessary attention to the club from the outside." She turned and barked something in Turkish to someone and a door to the back of the room opened. The woman moved to another smaller plinth at the back of the room as a man dragged a crying girl, that can't have been older than 9 years, dressed in nothing but her underwear onto the circular plinth under the spotlights. "Fuck..."  Clay heard Pooch's disgusted voice in his ear. "This is sick." Jensen muttered. And it was. But Clay had to remain still, and silent. The play was simple, he put in a few bids and hung back. But at some point, when he was sure they had enough evidence, he would enter a bid of a million. That was the team's cue to move. He let the first girl go, much as he didn't want to. But seeing her being dragged off the stage was enough to make him decide he was ending it with the second. He couldn't take watching another kid go through that, they had to have enough to bust this wide open, surely.  The next was a small, dark haired boy. He was pulled onto the stage by the burley guard, trembling, his brown eyes wide in fear. The bidding began. 10, 12, 15 thousand... at that point Clay hit his button, submitting his bid of 20. It was beaten, so he entered another and was beaten again. "Bidding stands now at 40 thousand." the woman spoke. "Any further bids?" Clay pushed his button "1 million." he spoke clearly. The woman cocked her head to one side, her eyebrow raising but before she could say anything the doors to the back of the room blew off. Jensen, Cougar, Roque and Pooch flew into the room, flanked by a number of CIA agents and army officers as there was the usual pandemonium associated with a raid. As Jensen sprinted off down a corridor to the left in search of their Offices and computers,  Pooch tossed a gun to Clay who joined the fray. He looked up in time to see the woman who had been running the auction sprinting out of the room down another corridor, but before he could say anything Roque was after her. "You sick, fucking bitch..." Roque mumbled as he sprinted down the winding corridors in the depths of the club almost tripping over her discarded heels as he went. Eventually he caught up with her, just as she raised a gun that she seemed to have produced from nowhere, shooting someone in front of her. Just as the shot rang out, Roque threw himself onto her, taking her down. She struggled a little in his arms, her strength taking him by surprise as they tangled together but eventually his strength won out and he pinned her on his back. His hand reached up to grab the wrist of the arm she held her gun in and he banged it sharply on the floor a few times until she dropped her weapon.  He looked at her face for a second, and something flashed in her eyes. Almost relief and she let out a breath. "I'll come quietly" she said and Roque shook his head. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you right here, right now." "Because you need me." she shrugged "I'm your key to busting this whole thing wide open." "Get up..." Roque snarled, as he hauled her to her feet, secured her wrists behind her back with his restraints. He looked her up and down and noticed that her dress had ripped slightly, exposing her right thigh flashing the hold-ups and garter straps he was wearing, into which was tucked another pistol. He ripped it from the strap which ran up and over a large, floral tattoo before he spun her round and with the gun jabbed into her back, he pushed her in front of him back the way he had come.  "Can I at least get my shoes?" she asked. Roque looked at her, incredulously, but let her slip the heels back on before they continued, emerging into the large cavernous room containing the stage. The plush velvet chairs now scattered all over the place, shreds of fabric still in the air as they were riddled with bullet holes and Clay was barking orders to someone in an Army uniform who nodded, and started to instruct his men to move out the prisoners they had taken to the waiting vehicles. Pooch and Cougar turned to face him first, before Clay spun round. The woman Roque was holding looked Clay in the eye and arched her eyebrow slightly as she raised her chin in defiance.  "Caught her in the back, she shot one of the other operators." Roque said, his gun nudging her forward another step "Probably to stop him talking." Clay eyed her for a second, before a wide grin split across his face and he looked at Roque "Let her go, she's one of us." "What?" Roque blinked, not sure he had heard correctly. Behind Clay Pooch and Cougar exchanged a look. "I said she's one of us." Clay said, "She's my person on the inside." Roque paused for a moment, looking at Clay then to the woman who turned to face him, her shoulders shrugging slightly "I told you I was your key to busting this wide open." Roque uncuffed her and she moved her arms, rubbing her wrists slightly. "Sorry." he said gruffly. "It's fine, you didn't know..." she said, cocking her head to one side "But can I have my guns back?" Roque fished in the waistband of his jeans and handed her the two pistols which she slipped back into her suspenders, giving a little moan. " You ruined my dress..." Pooch and Cougar gave a little snigger each and Roque glared at them both. Clay, however, ignored the 3 of them completely and looked at the woman. "Did you get him?" She nodded "Bullet straight through his head. I never miss."  "Through the head?" Pooch looked at her. "It was a shoot to kill order." she shrugged "So I shot and I killed him." Cougar tipped his hat slightly in approval as Pooch looked at him, then to Clay, then to Roque. Clay let out a huff of a laugh before he turned to the team. "This is Stella Stevenson, aka Arty..." "Like Artrois...that's clever." Pooch chuckled.Arty grinned at him as Roque looked at Clay "Emma's replacement, right?"

Clay nodded. "She's slightly less volatile..." 

Arty raised an eyebrow "Until I'm pushed...although leaving a bomb in someone's car is far too crude for my liking. You wouldn't see me coming, Clay." Clay snorted "Losers, treat her well. She's like a daughter to me, we go way back."

She smiled, and then looked around before she nodded to a door at the back, gesturing at them to follow her. "Everything you need is on the systems. I buried it as deep as I could to stop them deleting any of it. You got names, dates, transactions..."

"They kept transactions?" Pooch frowned as they walked down towards the offices she was indicating.

 "Key blackmail opportunities." Clay took a deep breath.

"Which I daresay we'll uncover as well." she spoke "This goes deep Clay. Deep. And it's not the only one. They're operating out of Syria and Afghanistan too." "Ok." Clay nodded, "Let's see if Jensen is done retrieving the intel off the systems and then we can-"

"Jensen?" Arty blinked at the mention of the familiar name and Clay turned to her grinning "You son of a bitch..." she laughed, shaking her head.

Roque, Cougar and Pooch exchanged a look.

"What did we miss?" Roque asked as they stopped outside a door.

"You're about to find out..." Clay said, pushing the door open. 

The five of them stepped inside and Clay looked at Jensen who had their back to them  and was leaning over a screen, his nose almost touching it. "You get what we need?"

Jensen didn't look up. "I was right, they had an automatic virus in here that can be remote operated but the stuff was buried deep, by someone who wanted to make sure it didn't get wiped, they clearly knew what they were doing..." he mused, and Clay glanced at Arty who raised an eyebrow "Just transferring it back to base now. We got names, dates, transaction history...and there are a few very naughty senators who are gonna be getting their collars felt. Which is better than them getting their balls felt by twelve year olds..." "Shame you weren't this good at Mario Karts JJ..." Arty spoke and Jensen stilled slightly before he whipped around in his seat.

"Stel?" he spoke, utterly astounded as he stood up, his dark green t-shirt rippling over his chest. She looked at him for a second.

"I thought you were in Afghanistan." she cocked her head to one side, taking his appearance in. He hadn't changed a bit in the year or so it had been since she had seen him last. Same cheeky and boyishly handsome face, same spiky blonde hair, same broad shoulders which tapered into a slim waist."

I thought you were in Iraq." he shot back, eyeing her up and down. She hadn't changed a jot either. Same curvy figure, same long legs and he let out a moan as he saw the guns strapped to her thigh through the rip in her dress. "Are you wearing suspenders?"  His eyes widened before they worked their way up her body.

"Always were observant Jakey." she grinned as his eyes locked onto her own, those crystal blue orbs shining slightly in the light of the room.

"Alright quit perving and for your information she was in Iraq." Clay said, "Under my orders." "Ok, what's this all about? You know each other or something?" Roque asked, gesturing between them with his hand.

Pooch rolled his eyes "Good call Roque, you think?"

"She's my best friend..." Jensen grinned, "All the way through middle and high-school..."

Stella barked out a laugh "So that's what we're calling it now?"

"Ok, best friend with...certain benefits.. if you get my drift." Jensen shrugged, his eyes twinkling cheekily. A that, Pooch let out a groan whilst Cougar smirked "Nice..." he said, tipping his hat, speaking for the first time since Arty had met him, a low chuckle escaping his mouth. Roque blinked and turned to Clay "And you knew about this?"

"I told you, she's like a daughter to me..." Clay shrugged. Jensen and Arty stood still, not really paying attention, simply looking at one another, until Jensen grinned and threw his arms open.

"Come here!"

With a grin she threw herself at him and he hugged her tight, arms wrapping around her back as he lifted her off the floor slightly and kissed her cheek.

"It's good to see you Stel”

“You too Jakey" After an hour or so, Clay signalled to the team that it was time to depart and they headed to the chopper that was waiting to take them out of Turkey and to the UN Base in Damascus where their handler was waiting to talk to them. The man, known only to them as David, took all the information down, told them what was likely to happen over the next few days and informed them that they would be ex-filled back to CIA HQ in DC in the next week or so, for full debrief. They were shown to their quarters for the next few days, which were all private rooms in the officers' lodgings, thank God, and they all retrieved their kit bags from the piles that were waiting for them, Arty's own pack being significantly smaller.

"Hope it's all the right size." Clay nodded towards it.

She smiled and took it from him with a thanks. "Sure it will do...hang on, did you buy me underwear as well?"

Clay shrugged.

"Ok, that's kinda gross..."

"I said I was like your dad..." he arched an eyebrow, "Not that I actually was. The rest of your stuff from the base will be shipped back, most likely waiting for you by the time we exfil."

"Thanks Clay." The team bid each other goodnight and Arty, once in her room headed straight for a shower. She turned the water on as hot as she could stand, and stepped under with a light groan, scrubbing her body and hair down as if the soap and shampoo would wash away the last 6 months. It wouldn't, of course. Some of the things she had seen and had to do during her stint undercover had been vile, and she knew would stick with her for the rest of her life but she had known that it wouldn't be easy. She needed to compartmentalise, decompress, which was the whole point of the debriefs and psyche evaluation she would be subject to when she got back to DC, just like any agent returning back into the fold after a mission. Arty knew the drill, it wasn't the first undercover op she had been involved in, having been a part of Delta Force for almost 2 years now, but it was the first one during which she had been directly undercover herself following recruitment into the CIA Special Ops Group Ground force. She knew that you never stayed in Special Ops long, it was a short term thing few people were lucky enough to be chosen for and could be cut even shorter if one of the missions left your face too easily recognisable, so Stella was intending to make the most of it even though she knew already it was gruelling.  And then there was Jensen. She had no idea he was working for the CIA but then, why would she? That was the point of Black Ops. Covert. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little upset at how far they actually had drifted since they had last seen each other 12 months ago. When they both went their separate ways after completing the ROTC, they'd promised to stay in touch, and to be fair for the most part over the past 8 years they'd done just that. Phone calls, emails, and then spending any time they could when they both had leave at the same time together, but it had certainly waned over the last year and, well, now she knew why.

Turning off the shower she dried off and dug out the night wear Clay had provided her with. Pleasantly surprised and pleased to find a pair of pale yellow pyjama shorts and matching tank top she shrugged them on before she flicked on the small TV that was attached to the wall, and just as she was about to throw herself on the bed there was a knock on her door. Knowing full well it would only be one person she padded barefoot over the clean, but clinical flooring and opened it. Jensen leaned against the door frame, barefoot and dressed in a pair of black shorts and a white tank top, his handsome face sporting his trademark grin as he held up a bottle of Jack Daniels.

"Me and my friend Jack were just takin' a stroll, thought we'd pop by for a catch up." He watched as she smiled, and stepped back to let him in. His eyes slid up her bare legs to her shorts and over her ass for a second before he shut the door behind him.

"Not gonna lie Stel, was kinda hoping you'd still be in that dress and those damned thigh holsters."

"They only come out for special occasions." she quipped, heading over to the small kitchen area at the back of the room and waving 2 mugs. "You want one or we doing it straight from the bottle?" "Why change the habit of a lifetime?" he snorted, twisting off the cap and taking a mouthful. She crossed towards him and he handed it to her and she took a loud mouthful, swallowing it as it burned her throat a little. "God it's hot when you do that." 

She shot him a look as he took the bottle from her, placing it down on the side before he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer

"Fuck, I missed you Stel."

"What happened to no strings attached?" She looked at him, her hands falling on top of his.

"I still really missed you. Not just the sex, but you..." he shrugged. "You know I have..."

"That why we've hardly spoken in 12 months?" she looked at him.

"I emailed..." he frowned, one hand moving to run through his hair "You're the one that went silent 6 months ago."

"I was undercover..."

"You can be under the covers now too..." he grinned and she scoffed, shaking her head. "Is this really wise if we're gonna be working together?"

"Since when have I ever done anything wise?" he shrugged, pushing his glasses back up his nose slightly.

"You should try it sometime..." Stella said, patting his chest. She stepped back out of his hold, grabbed the bottle and took another drink before she walked to the bed and flopped down on it. "Assume the position JJ." she instructed him and he grinned, dropping down beside her and she handed him the bottle. Neither of them spoke for a moment, they fell into a comfortable silence, having been in this situation many times before. Lying side by side, drinking, and just being close to one another. Jake took another mouthful of the liquor, stealing a glance at her, her damp hair pulled into a braid, the spattering of freckles that adorned her nose and cheeks evident following her being fresh from the shower, the trace of her jawline down her throat to the slight swell of cleavage he could see thanks to the neckline of her tank top... 

As she made a gesture for the bottle he handed it to her, and she took it, her eyes still fixed on the TV, and she grimaced, nodding towards the screen. Jake followed her gaze as it was cutting to a News flash.

"I said there would be some very nervous senators..." he quipped, as Stella shook her head as the footage of Capitol Hill rolled, the news reporter carrying the story about a number of arrests linked to a suspected Military Raid earlier that day. They both knew, however, that any arrests would have been made hours previously, as soon as the information they had syphoned had hit the CIA base. The entire operation was timed to a tee.

"Hope they throw away the key. Sick bastards." she muttered "Honestly Jakey some of the stuff I saw...it was fucking disgusting." Jake looped an arm round her shoulder and she lay her head against his chest, her arm looping over his stomach as he gave her a squeeze before she sat up again, taking the bottle. She took a large gulp, larger than her previous ones and pulled a face as she swallowed, her throat bobbing and he felt the familiar stirring in his pants. She looked at him for a moment, their eyes locking and his gaze flicked down to her mouth before it moved back up again as he took the bottle off her and blindly reached behind him, placing it on the table besides her bed.

"Wanna fuck?" he asked.

She shrugged "Sure, why not?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth, his lips crashed to hers in a bruising kiss and he smirked against her mouth as she straddled him, his hands falling to her hips as her mouth hungrily worked against his. Their lips moulded together in a well-known practice, her tongue teasing against his own before she pulled back, gently biting his bottom lip as she went, drawing a groan from his throat as he rest his head against hers, his eyes flickering open to lock onto hers. 

“You know…” Stella sighed, drawing back slightly to cup Jake's face in her fingertips “I'm liking this..." she traced her fingers lightly across his goatee, and he smiled at her as she reached up and took his glasses off, dropping them carelessly next to the bottle of Jack by their side. 

“It's supposed to make me look meaner…” he murmured, his lips gently brushing hers as their noses bumped together.

"Doesn't work, especially not with the bleach in your hair." she mumbled as his mouth trailed a path across her jawline and down the length of her neck "You're still that adorably yet slightly dorky 18 year old that took my cherry." "You took mine too Stel." he mumbled and her eyes closed as she rolled her head back, giving him access to more of her neck, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "How could I forget?" her voice was nothing more than a whisper as his fingers flexed on her hips, his groin pushing upwards, his hardness pressing into her core through their clothing. "I'm glad to report you got a lot better at it since then..."

 "Well, you'd know..."  he said, his tongue licking a line back up her throat as his hands grabbed at the bottom of her tank top. She moved to allow him to take it off and Jake looked down at her bare chest as she reciprocated the favour, pulling his top over his head, tossing it to the floor. Raising his head he gently nipped at the base of her neck, his hands sliding up her bare sides, calloused fingers ever so gentle over her ribs as his tongue flicked at her nipple as he took it in his mouth, drawling a loud groan from her as her hips bucked involuntarily at the sensation. 

God it really had been far too long

.Unable to take it anymore he flipped her over so she was on her back, his body sliding downwards as he dispensed of her shorts and then his own, before he kissed his way back up from her ankle all the way to that thigh tattoo which was ingrained in his memory forever. Well, most of it was anyway...

 "This...this is new. " he said gently, his fingers tracing the outline of the large, pink flower that sat at the top, almost in the crease of her hip.

"Go Petunias." she looked at him and he let out a bark of a laugh as she snaked her right leg in between both of his and using a well-executed move she threw him on his back drawing a loud huff of surprise from him.

"Jesus Stel, give a guy a warning" he mumbled as she slid over him. "Where's the fun in that?" she whispered,  brushing her lips across the hairs on his face tracing a path across from one side of his jawline to the other as his eyes fully closed in pleasure, large hands gripping at her thighs, then her hips as she shifted slightly to start taking him in. Her mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ as they both groaned as she slid down, her warmth engulfing him entirely.

."JJ..." she mumbled,  her hands falling to his chest as she held herself still "Jakey, look at me...wanna see you." He opened his eyes, locking them onto her own which were half-lidded with desire as she began to move. Her hips rotated as she ground down again, and again, his own rising to meet hers as she did.

"Fuck, Stel..." he sighed, "Still feel so good baby girl..."

She grinned, and bit her lip as her hips moved again, his hands sliding down to grab at her ass as she pushed down harshly, causing him to grunt as she ground down against him, tilting herself forward finding that angle that always got her off. Her pace was slow, torturously so, but it wasn’t long before she began to move slightly faster, working him harder as she chased her relief. The roughness of his pubic hair was grinding against her spot, the friction feeling amazing as she pushed down. With every roll of her hips, Jensen's eyes which were still locked onto hers grew darker, and darker, his hands digging into her hips as he pulled her onto him, grinding upwards further and deeper.

He sat up suddenly, so they were face to face, the change of angle making her cry out, as he slid his hands moved round her back, pulling her close to him as he kissed and sucked at her neck, biting at that spot beneath her ear whilst he held her still for a moment, gently thrusting upwards, deeply, slowly, savouring the moment. Stella rolled her head back, a louder cry this time tumbling from her lips and he felt her tighten around him, pulsing strongly as her orgasm washed over her and he let out a groan of his own as her head fell forward to his shoulder, her groans soft in his ear. . .“Good?” he whispered, smiling as she managed a broken noise of affirmation, and without giving her a moment to recover he flipped her onto her back, his hands lacing with hers at the side of her head as he began to thrust into her, his pace harder and faster.

"Jake..." she gasped, as his lips crashed onto hers, swallowing her cries as her nails dug into the back of his hands whilst he thrust into her with deep, powerful strokes. The sweat was beading over his brow as he broke the kiss, his head falling forward slightly as he felt his own relief beginning to creep up on him. He tugged his right hand free, sliding it down between them to rub at her sensitive nub as he pounded into her voraciously and she gave a loud wail her head tipping back into the pillow, her breathing ragged.

"Come on Stel..." he gasped, "Come on baby, give it to me..." And give it she did, her body shook underneath him as her mouth dropped open and she let out a loud noise which bubbled from her throat, as she once more succumbed to the wave of pleasure washing over her. The feel of her clenching around him was enough, and Jensen followed her right over the edge into delirium, his hips stuttering as his thrusts grew sloppy, riding his own orgasm out before he collapsed down on top of her, completely and utterly blissed out. They lay in silence, both struggling to gain control of their breathing in the aftermath, not a sound being made by either of them bar gasps for air as the TV continued to play in the background. Stella gently moved her hands up and down the expanse of muscle on his back, his skin slick to the touch and Jensen laid still, relishing the touch of her fingertips as they danced over his body.

Eventually he raised his head, propping himself up on his elbows as he gave her a lazy grin which she reciprocated. His hands cupped her cheeks, his lips seeking hers out once more for a kiss that was this time soft, gentle, a stark cry from the ardent ones they'd shared before. He pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers, gently brushing their noses together before he spoke, his voice slightly raspy from the exertion of the last 15 minutes or so. 

"Welcome to The Losers, Stel" he grinned.

**** Chapter 1

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Band of Brothers Greetings, Part 2

Cute/charming things thay say when they walk into a room and see you/you walk into a room and they see you

Speirs:

Ok, first off- the moment he walks into a room, any room, he scans to see if you’re there, and if you are what you’re doing. 

He’s always done it, but since things between the two of you have gotten a bit steamy you find yourself catching him doing it ALL. THE. DAMN. TIME.

Like Ronald, you’re vv handsome and smoldery but YOU AREN’T SUBTLE IN THE SLIGHTEST.

Boi’s head is literally on a swivel until he finds you, straight up ignoring the person trying to talk to him until he sees that you’re there before impatiently returning his attention to whatever NIxon is saying (you know, BC OH YEAH not only are we at work but our work is war whoopsies could you repeat that, Nix i was lost in my handsome deathwish prince’s eyes?)

He’s always careful to read your body language to see how you're feeling, and based on that and the context of where y’all are he decides how (and if) to approach you.

His own feelings overwhelm him so it’s easier for him to focus on how you’re feeling

(Weirdly enough, you can read his feelings better than he can read his feelings sometimes.)

You weirdos end up staring at each other for way too long, entire conversations flowing between you two with little more than a lift of an eyebrow and a tilt of the head.

Bill and Babe had a game where they would see who between them could hold their breath through more of yours and Speirs’s weird hive mind-meld, the loser getting two freebies from the other’s rations.

Soon, more people joined in, and one day Speirs walked in while Peacock and LIpton were discussing the formation they wanted the camp set up in and half of the guys simultaneously took a deep breath through their noses to get a lungful of air 

When Lipton looked back out to the group of listening soldiers, he was disturbed to see several of his friends red or blue faced and looking between you and Speirs and each other like a tennis match

One look from Speirs put a stop to that game for a good month.

It only started up again because they saw Ron storm into the med bay and kiss you full on the mouth when you were alone after a soldier had punched you in that nose during Market Garden and left you horrifically blood-soaked and he’d thought you’d been shot.

Then the game turned into who could catch Ron showing human emotions towards you, with more points being given to the more softboy the action.

In an effort to keep THE BOYS™ focused during meetings, you and Ron eventually decided it’d be best to just stand by each other whenever you were in a room together, bc while you both are soft for each other you still get that you can’t be too distracted.

Well, you decided that.

If anything, Ron now has a new favorite game- seeing how long you could stay focused with his fingers running up and down your thigh while sitting together.

He may have slipped his hand beneath your waistband a few times and gotten you off during one of Nix’s intelligence briefings, whispering that you were being so good for him the entire time

and you may have retaliated once by getting him so worked up that he almost came in his pants like a teenager while surrounded by his sleeping men before giving him an overly sweet look before slipping away.

He makes you pay for it later, don’t worry :)

Martin:

MY ANGER BB

SO GLARE-Y, SO FROWN

That is...until he sees you

Then the furrow in his brow softens, and a knowing smile breaks across his face and he either comes to be by you or (a la Bull Randleman) he will raise him arm to show you that there is a you-sized space that needs filling (hurry plz it makes him feel better to touch you.)

He’s not going to show PDA when y’all’re busy- bc he’s good and what he does and you’re good at what you do but that doesn’t mean you can just not pay attention if important info is benign shared. 

If he thinks you aren’t paying enough attention he’ll let you know right away.

Or just glare at the thing distracting you until it eventually relents or someone hits his arm and tells him to stop glaring at the pretty flowers y’n’s looking at they’ll burst into flame and then she’ll be sad

BUt homeboy is not afraid to have you lean against him, or sit in his lap as you both get ready to do whatever it is you have to do.

If the lot of you are just hanging out- he’s much more relaxed, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek or temple before returning his attention to whatever he had been doing- arms wrapping around you as he catches you up on whatever you’d missed

BC HE WOULD WANT YOU TO BE INCLUDED IN EVERYTHING HE DOES (as long as it’s not too dangerous, obvi)

“But John, you’re going on the patrol—!” “Yeah, cause if you’re not going SOMEONE has to make sure these boys don’t get themselves killed. Think it’d be rude to leave them to fend for themselves...”

“But i could go-” “NO you can’t, shut up. Now listen to my plan and tell me what you think…”

He knows how good you are at your job, and it makes him want to be better at his job so he can make sure to be there for you.

I also feel like THE BOYS™ would sometimes be surprised to see Johnny “It may be a bitchface but I’m not resting” Martin being a lil soft with you, and would sometimes stare in shock at the sight of the two of you looking at each other with such open adoration and softness that they’d get a lil mesmerized.

Until either you or Johnny noticed

Then, get ready for the SNARKIEST “Can I FUCKING help you?” glare combo to ever exist ever.

This made me smile, idk

Luz:

GEOOOOOOOOOORGE Luz

My guy (much like Babe) is SO INTO YOU it can sometimes get the both of you in trouble (How either of you managed to keep from getting kicked out is a miracle). 

Luz is also a dramatic little goober, so you know he’ll do something over the top to try and make you laugh (bc, unlike him, you can actually keep it together for more than five seconds whenever you see him)

I’m talking shooting to his feet and standing on his chair and pointing in your direction the moment he sees you (especially if it’s for the first time that day/in a while), putting on a deep voice and an overly serious expression.

“Good God boys, I think we’re in the presence of a GOD. DAMN. KNOCKOUT.”

“WOOH, look at that! Somebody get Roe, cause I’m pretty sure my is about to JUMP outta my CHEST!”

(“You sure you ain’t just hopped up on caffeine and no sleep—?” “Shut UP Perconte, can’t you see I’m trying to flirt with your mother?”)

When you smile sleepily and tell him he can’t talk to your son that way he’ll perk up like a goddamn puppy dog, hop down from his chair and grab the mug of burnt coffee he’d poured for you when he’d heard you greeting Nixon that morning.

He presses the cup into your hand and his smile would soften into the one he saved for you (the one he’d given you after the two of you had snuck out past curfew at Toccoa to put a can of peaches by the door of Sobel’s bunkhouse and nearly gotten caught because you couldn’t stop giggling)

Luz is so obviously a goof but he also would be so endearingly obvious in his adoration of you.

No one would dare tease him about it. George brought so much light and (much needed) distraction from the darkness around them that THE BOYS™ would literally go to the ends of the earth to ensure that the two of you had time together. 

Don’t think about how, after being assigned a (gasp) room with a queen bed and a door(!) he would give you that smile again BUT this time there’d be a lil hint of Trouble in those bright eyes. Don’t think about him swallowing your sighs as the two of you keep each other warm between the sheets. 

But if you do think about it, know that he’s going to whisper the sweetest, kindest things to you the whole time, and yall are gonna fall asleep like teens in a CW show (~in each others armzZz~)

Guarnere:

KING of the dirty wink

Oh my god.

Put that thing away before you get silly and hurt someone

You’ve heard of undressing someone with your eyes (see Liebgott and Nixon (and Ron if he’s feeling naughty shhh)), and you’ve heard of talking someone right out of their pants.

You had never known it was possible to WINK someone into a PUDDLE of feels.

Bill had a whole language of winks and head tilts, but you could be DAMN sure that he knows EXACTLY what he can do to you.

(Because you’re in a position where you’re under a bit more scrutiny than the other men, he also knows that you can’t necessarily reciprocate your feelings as openly as he can.)

DOn’t worry, he’s more than happy to flirt publicly for the both of you

“There she is, fuckin goddess of war herself. Come to see how the toughest, most handsome sonofabitch in the 506 is doin’ this morning?”

“Yeah, Bill. Something like that.”

It’s really cute. 

When you guys are alone, you try to make up for the fact that you can’t openly admire him the same way that he admires you. But Bill won’t hear it- tells you that he’d still think the world of you, even if you called him “the most unhelpful, condescending little shit” you’d ever had the displeasure of meeting

(which you did, after two weeks of constantly being paired up for training in Georgia)

(He’d asked you to marry him the next day, and you’d laughed so loudly and unexpectedly that it startled the both of you. The only thing to shut you up was a bark from Lipton to focus on the combat training, and even then you hadn’t been able to stop your shoulders from shaking)

For all his insistence that you didn’t have to worry about him thinking you don’t share his feelings, he isn’t opposed whenever the mood to show him how much you care for him strikes you.

Take a lil initiative when the two of you are alone and he’s putty in your hands.

BC while he finds your restraint admirable, he’d be a fucking liar to say you dropping the stoicism to get a lil dirty makes him weak.

Everyone else is used to Bill being an open flirt, and they are pretty sure if you had a problem with it you’d make him stop, but that doesn’t stop them from being surprised when Bill had dipped you into an over-the-top romantic kiss when it was announced the war was over (BC LET’S PRETEND HE WAS ALL GOOD AND HEALED UP AND WAS WITH BUCK AT THE BASEBALL GAME OKAY?!).

Speirs had simply held his hand out, palm up while all the guys who’d bet against him paid up

He’d shipped it from day one, but you’ll never be able to prove it!

(YIKES A DOODLE HERE’S PART TWO! Thank you to everyone who responded and liked the first half (major shout out to @mrsalwayswrite for writing my new favorite Liebgott story!) Again, love yall, and may your personal letters never be considered contraband)

[scribble-blog]

Soulmate AU part 3!!

First • Previous • Here • Next

Side note, I’m a grandma in a 22 year old body who doesn’t understand technology. If somebody can teach me how to get readmores to work on tumblr mobile, and possibly how to start linking the posts together, I’d appreciate it!

Also, the taglist is now full! Though if people want, I could try doing a supplemental taglist? Either in a reblogged or in a separate post to notify you? Let me know in the replies!

Damian Wayne, as it turns out, is almost very certainly the son of Bruce Wayne, who sponsored their entire trip to Gotham. There are only two official pictures of him that are clear enough to truly check against, but Marinette sees the eyes and she nods. “That’s him.”

Trixx, Pollen, Kaalki, and Plagg are scattered about the bed, napping and lounging. Adrien also lounges, catlike and crosswise with the bed, entirely over the pillows at their back. Chloé holds the laptop that Marinette is hovering over, even from her seated position with her much smaller stature.

“It would be you,” Chloé snorts. “Oh, let’s just traipse over to America for a quick class visit! Oops, my soulmate is the incredibly handsome son of the incredibly wealthy man who invited us here!”

“Still more believable than you, Miss ‘My soulmate and I have literally been standing two feet from each other for weeks because not only do we have the exact same friends, but we’re part of the same superhero group and never realized until Ladybug allowed us to learn each other’s secret identities.’” Adrien doesn’t move as he calls her out, lazily curled into the warmth of his two friends and the pillows cocooning him.

“I don’t think any of us can speak,” Marinette groans. “I’m living a cheap rom com, Chloé’s got all the plot elements of a high budget Shakespearian drama, and Mr. ‘Didn’t know I wasn’t straight until my soulmate mark was a guys name” is straight out of a b movie comedy.”

“At least I got my act together pretty quickly once it occurred to me that I could like guys too,” Adrien points out. “And now Jon and I talk all the time, and he even comes to Paris sometimes to see me, or we’ll meet up for my occasional business trips in America. Which reminds me,” he pulled out his phone, sending off a quick text, “he wants to come meet you guys. Next week, while we’re all actually on the same continent.”

“Kudos to you for shaking off whatever Gabe tried to stuff your head full of,” Chloé says. “Took me ages to admit that I was gay, and that was even WITH my soulmark and both Marinette and Ladybug constantly in front of me.”

“Feeling pretty objectified,” Marinette protests.

“Oh shut it, I know for a fact that you’ve basically been the gay awakening crush of every not straight girl in our class. And several outside of it. And that’s not even counting all the dudes that fall in love with you.”

“I still object,” Marinette pouts at Chloé.

“Objection overruled.” Adrien sits up. “Marinette. You’re like, the perfect crush. They have a warning about you in the introductory packet for Mme. Bustier’s class.”

“They do not,” Marinette gasps, outraged. “I wrote that packet!”

“And then the class unanimously decided you were too dangerous to be walking around without a warning sign,” Chloé pinched her cheek. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s still in the packet despite Lila’s best efforts to get it thrown out.”

That does make Marinette feel better.

“Damian Wayne resurfaces after year of being believed dead,” Adrien reads from his phone. “Gotham’s Newest Wayne: The True Son! These all read like tabloids but as far as I can tell the Wayne’s don’t tolerate stuff like that. So I guess it’s true?”

“I’m tired of looking him up,” Marinette groans. “Can we just leave it be?”

“Nope,” Chloé pops the P. “Congrats, Dupain-Cheng, this is what friends are for.”

“I wish I could talk to Tikki about it,” Marinette sighs. “Especially because I have literally never heard anyone talk about that- electric feeling when we touched. Is it a Ladybug thing?”

Plagg opens one big green eye. “Cool it, Spots. It’s definitely a Ladybug thing. You’re literally the reason these marks exist.”

Marinette sticks her tongue out at the mini god. “I just miss her.”

“Join the club,” he grumbles, closing his eye and going back to napping.

“Good news,” Chloé says, bringing her attention back to the laptop. “Searching your name very easily leads to you, and our class, and the fact that we won the contest. So, unless he decides he’s not ready to meet you, you’ll have the chance to find him at the gala. Or at Wayne Enterprises. Or at any of the places the Wayne’s own, which is two-thirds of our trip destinations.”

“Oh god,” Marinette says. “What if he didn’t want to find me?”

Adrien, Chloé, and four Kwamis hit her at the same time, shoving her back into the bed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mari,” Adrien scolds her from his position atop the newly formed cuddle pile. “I saw his face too. If the boy isn’t already in love with you, he’ll be hunting you down just for the chance to fall.”

Trixx nuzzled into her side. “I may not be Tikki but all of us Kwamis know how incredible you are, Marinette.”

She sighed. “Alright guys, get off.”

———

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Tim already knew who the girl was, because he’d been curious when his favorite artist had started talking about the source of his newest looks.

But having Damian demand his help in searching for everything he could find on her, and then only asking for the bare minimum of information about her trip itinerary- Tim wasn’t an idiot.

“So. She’s your soulmate.” Tim takes a sip of the coffee he’d been working on, making a face and instantly setting it back down when he realized it had gone cold.

Damian carefully did not change his expression, but it wasn’t fooling anyone. “And so what if she is?”

Tim looked back at the monitor. “So nothing. Congrats, Demon Spawn. I’m happy for you.”

He barely caught the edge of the scowl the younger Wayne tried to hide.

“Hey, no.” Tim spun his chair to face Damian. “Look, we’ve had our differences and disagreements-“

“You had me on the superhero equivalent of a terrorism watch list,” Damian interrupted.

“And you literally tried to kill me within the first day of meeting me.”

“A byproduct of my indoctrination from birth into a murder cult,” His brother kept his face still but the tone was wry.

“You kept trying to kill me.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you!” Damian finally exclaimed, losing his collected demeanor. “Just-“

“Point being,” Tim stressed, “even if we haven’t always gotten along- haven’t ever, really- I’m still happy for you. Soulmates are a special thing. We all kind of thought you might not have one, with the way you always acted when Dick tried to ask.”

Damian forced down the immediate retort and looked at Tim. “I thought that maybe my dying would have prevented my name from showing up for them. And my teachings-“ he said the word with the inflection that meant he was discussing Assassin Upbringing rather than here- “were as such that most connections, be they familial, friendly, or romantic, were- unnecessary and even dangerous.” It felt tantamount to a betrayal of his younger self to confide anything in Drake like this, but... Damian really was, in many ways, a better and more mature person than the spoiled, aggressive, near sociopathic brat he’d arrived as seven years ago. He still kept the veneer of it up, but he was no longer the boy who needed to fight Drake to prove his worth as Bruce’s son.

Now he just waited for Drake to embarrass himself by passing out after staying up for far too long surviving on caffeine and energy drinks. Much easier.

And Drake didn’t ever seem as eager to blackmail and fight as Damian ever had, so he figured a small amount of vulnerability was a proper thank you for his discretion in finding Marinette.

Tim just took another grimacing sip of the cold coffee. “Man. In that case, even happier for you that you’re shrugging off yet another of the Child Assassin School’s upsetting and frankly terrible rules. Though as for the dying thing, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t actively die now that you have the mark.”

Damian shrugged. “Irrelevant now, as I will not be dying anytime soon, and neither will she. And she clearly knows that we’re soulmates.”

“Still confused about that,” Tim frowned, looking back at him. “You said there was an electric current between you? Or it felt like that?”

Damian couldn’t stop his hand from twitching, the memory of it clear enough to feel. “Yes. I don’t understand it myself either.”

“I’ll search around. See if anything comes up.” Tim handed him a pile of papers. “Here, the info you wanted on her itinerary, plus things I thought would be pertinent without going over whatever line you seem to have drawn.”

Damian took them, and very begrudgingly said, “Thank you,” before ducking out of the room.

He waited until he was back in his own room before flicking through them, finding the trip schedule and the hotel rooms listed, the names of her class and teachers, and finally a list of her accomplishments and a copy of the paper that had won her class the trip, authored by her.

He read through it, noting the names of her classmates and their own community efforts, and the way her own section in the paper was minuscule compared to both each other persons section and the list of accomplishments Drake had drafted.

One classmate had, if no less written than than any other person, a distinctly different tone to what Marinette had written, and most of her community building and service events were merely echoes or assisting what another person had done. Damian shrugged it off, as there were sometimes people who simply tagged along, and never put their own effort out there. Followers, and not leaders.

All in all, he found himself more intrigued than ever about her.

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[peachyteabuck]

♡ calm after the storm ♡

summary: post-wedding day bliss, a commission for @bravevesperia01​

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

words: 5,010

trigger warnings: sickening fluff, strap ons, vaginal fingering, light allusions to carolnat, overstimulation

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

The wedding was perfect, everything you had imagined. You had the perfect dress, the perfect flowers, the perfect guests, the perfect catering, the perfect venue, the perfect wife.

But, even as you celebrated and beamed and cried happy tears and held hands and kissed and exchanged vows, the best-day-of-your-life was completely and utterly exhausting – all the dancing and smiling and photos and pure unadulterated happiness left you stumbling to the hotel room Nat and you were going to share for a few days before you left for your honeymoon – scheduled for a rest Mexico where the sun promised to shine and your phones were to be turned off for the longest in either of your careers.

“You okay, babe?” she asks once you’re both in the elevator, watching you closely as you use her for balance while you take off your painful heels.

You groan in pain as your feet – now able to flatten and breathe and finally not stuck in stuffy plastic – hit the cold material of the floor fancy, dark marble flooring. “Define ‘okay,’ would you please?”

Natasha just snorts, holding you close as your eyes droop and your legs threaten to give out. “Oh, darling. We’re almost there, I promise.”

Natasha isn’t lying – you’re only forced to travel about five more floors and a short walk to get to your grand suite before you can collapse into the giant bed, something you had thought about all day with its obnoxiously high thread count sheets and mountain of beautiful, plush pillows.

Each of you had both been in there, in what now sounds like paradise, that morning. You both needed to drop off your luggage and whatever else you’d think you’d need for the Honeymoon (the visits were perfectly timed, though, so that you avoided seeing one another). Despite this, you yourself had no idea how long and treacherous the journey would be.

(In reality, was it fifty feet? Probably. But does that mean you’re not going to complain about it? Absolutely not.)

You nearly scream with relief when you step into the room, allowing yourself to slouch and burp and groan in pain.

Natasha puts the two bottles of champagne she’d taken from the reception on one of the end tables by the door, never letting go of your hand.

When she turns back to you she sees you, struggling uncomfortably in your dress as if you were one of the small children that attended the ceremony – stuffed into fancy clothes for hours as their parents mingled.

Natasha opted to wear a well-tailored suit, something you became incredibly jealous of about ten seconds after you were stuffed into the wedding dress.

“C’mere,” Natasha murmurs into your skin, hands rubbing into your shoulders. “Let me help you out of this thing.”

You don’t deny the help, moving your perfectly done hair to the side so she can access the complicated lace-up back that held your strapless dress to your body.

“You looked so beautiful tonight,” Natasha tells you, assassin hands making quick work of the expensive, intricately woven ribbon. “Like a goddess in a dream.”

If you had more energy you’d blush wildly, stutter through a “thank you” and do your best to compliment her back. Now, though, all you can seem to manage is a small smile and an equally tiny “thanks” as the dress falls to your feet, Natasha helping you step out of it – leaving you in the fancy lingerie that costs spent God knows how from some fancy designer you .

It’s pretty, a deep orange that compliments your skin exceptionally well – a pre-wedding gift from Carol.

“I know she likes,” she says with a wink, handing you the bag as you got your hair done that morning. You know she’s referring the numerous threesomes you and Natasha had had with her and it makes you bark out a laugh.

The hairdresser glares at you for messing up her flow, and you apologize meekly before giggling once more.

“Wow,” Nat mumbles, eyeing you up and down. “That looks fucking amazing on you.”

You smile, weak but genuine as you let out a small yawn. “Thanks, Carol of all people thought you would like it.”

Your wife barks out a loud laugh, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “Oh, of course she did.”

Natasha gives you another once-over, another lingering glance, before she grabs your hand - leading you to the table where she had your make up mirror set up, along with your large collection of post-make up necessitates. Next to the several large make up bag’s worth of stuff is the fluffiest robe you’ve ever seen, and as you press your hand to it to pinch the cloth between your fingers, you can feel it had been warmed.

God, you love your wife so much – almost as much as you want to wrap yourself in that robe for the next one thousand years and never, ever take it off.  

“Now,” Natasha tells you, coming behind you to leave a kiss at the base of your neck. “Get comfortable while I run us a nice, hot bath so the both of us can properly destress from the day. Got it?”

You nod as you sit down, taking it all in as Natasha eases herself away.

“I love you so much!” you call out to her. “You’re the best wife ever!”

A beat passes before you hear a response. “I know!”

After pulling the robe on and nearly crying at how good it feels, you work on taking your thick make up off while Natasha does her thing in the bathroom – faint music playing from a Bluetooth speaker she had remembered to pack.

Natasha, your wife. The woman you’ve loved for years, the woman you’ve known was the one since you saw her at that fashion show Tony made her go to because Bruce (the one most susceptible to Tony’s extroverted nonsense) bowed at to deal with some “nuclear-fission” related stuff.

You were a model, another person stepping in for a friend when another friend had more important things to do. Natasha was taken with you when you first stepped out of the runway, insisting that she meet you backstage.

Luckily, Tony allowed to use her connection to him to get there, flashing the Stark Industries part of her invite in front of anyone who tried to step in her way. You were there, undoing the tight ponytail at a well-lit mirror while wearing sweatpants and a crop top and flip flops – a fantastical contrast to the deep maroon ballgown you were stuffed inside for the show.

She was awestruck, as were you, and while you both stared at each other, wordless, the designer you were doing a favor for had the good sense to step in and introduce you.

It was horrible awkward for you and Natasha, exchanging numbers and introducing yourself like dumbstruck preschoolers meeting new friends on the first day of school. Eventually you had to leave, torn from her gaze by another model insisting you get drinks.

Natasha was pulled in the other direction by Tony, who wanted to go clubbing like his life depending on it.

Needless to say, you were texting the entire night, next morning, and the day after…plus the week after that…

The rest, of course, is history.

You smile as you rub the last of your professionally applied eyeliner off, taking out your serums and creams to be used next.

You’re on a moisturizing thing for your under-eyes when Natasha calls for you.

“The bath is ready!” she yells, suddenly appearing in the doorway. You smile at her in your mirror before joining her in the-

“Holy shit, this bathroom is fucking huge!”

Natasha laughs, stripping you before she replies. “Well, we sure are paying enough for it.”

You snort. “Actually, Tony’s paying for it.”

Natasha rolls her eyes as she guides you to the tub, pushing your clothes aside with her foot. “Of course, how could I forget?”

Tony – a man who was likely more excited about the wedding than anything else – had insisted from day one that he should be the one to pay for the honeymoon and anything else one would call “expensive.”

Once you mumbled something about the container store being a possibility of where you would register, and after a rough draft list he bought everything you desired.

(How he got that list, you don’t know, since the only people you sent it to was Natasha and Wanda. In all honesty, you try not to think about it, as you had much more pertinent things to worry about when it came to your wedding.)

Natasha steadies you climb into the bath and you sink into the hot water with a deep moan, already beginning to rub into your sore muscles.

“Baby, don’t do that yet,” Natasha tuts, throwing another handful of bath salts into the large tub. Too tired to disagree, you watch her with hooded eyes while she undresses before pushing you forward to make room for her behind you. “Let me help you.”

Your head falls back to lean against her shoulder as she massages you with nimble, callous fingers.

“You’re really good at this,” you whisper, kissing what little skin you can reach.

She starts at your feet, easily working her way up your ankles, calves, knees, thighs.

Your breath hitches when she moves to your hips – but it calms when she brushes over them and moves to your shoulders.

“Better?” she asks as she works out knots the size of Thor from between your shoulder blades.

You nod, leaning back against her. “Yeah, much better.”

You can feel her smile turn a little wicked as she speaks. “Then this should be amazing.”

Before you can question her, both hands move to your chest, massaging your breasts – sore from the corset of the dress and the beautiful (but uncomfortable) lace lingerie.

It feels so good; a breath of fresh hair after being choked (both literally and metaphorically), stepping into the sun after weeks of rain, touching the skin of another after being kept alone for so long.

“God,” you whisper, leaning into her hands. “Fuck this is the best.”

You can feel Natasha smile into the skin of your shoulder. “Yeah? You like that?”

You giggle as you reply. “Very much so.”

Only then does she stop, moving to grab at the basket of nice-smelling objects you can’t identity until Natasha brings it in front of you, holding it above the water and close to your face. You can see bathe bombs and salts, essential oils, bubble bath.

“Pick one,” Natasha tells you, whispering.

You take one shaky hand from the water and dry it as best you can, grabbing a pale pink sphere that smells vaguely of peaches and a summer breeze.

Natasha nudges you and you drop it into the water, watching silently as it fizzled and dissolved into the hot water.

Behind you, you can hear her grabbing something else – popping what you think is a lid open and squirting its contents into her hands.

You suck in a breath, hoping her hands will go back to your chest, but to your dismay she simply goes back to your shoulders.

“You carry a lot of tense energy here,” she teases playfully. You can’t tell if she’s mocking you or the massage you two had gotten a few weeks back when Wanda noticed how much wedding planning had taken a toll on the both of you.

They were good, the massage therapists that she had hired were well trained and knew what they were doing, but one of them had this stereotypical voice and vocabulary and both you and Natasha had turned her into some sort of inside joke.

“Now,” she told Natasha as her elbow was inches-deep in the woman’s spine. “You carry a lot of stress around your spine, so you need to be mindful of that…”

Natasha nodded along, as did you, despite not a single clue what that meant. You both quoted when the other got stressed again, reminding the other person to relax that furrow in your brow just a little.

Regardless of intent, you giggle and let her work out the knots that have made homes along your shoulder blades and spine, your hands resting on her knees that rest near your sides in the hot water.

“What was the favorite part?” you ask, wanting to hear the voice of your wife instead of the sleep-inducing silence. You wanted to be awake, wanted to experience this with her.

You can somehow feel Natasha smiling softly. “Oh god, you were – obviously, but it was just so nice to see everyone there, everyone I love being there and celebrating with us…”

The feeling of her fingers digging into your muscles lulls you into a semi-unconscious state, listening to her stories from the best day of her and your life.

“I think Thor bringing that ale was only a good idea, because seeing Steve and Bucky drunk was…” she laughs, and if you could live in that melodic sound, you would. “It was fucking hilarious. Who knew Bucky was a giggley drunk and Steve was a horny one – I don’t think I’ve ever seen two men grind on each other so hard for so long in one night in my life!”

You let out a soft laugh with her, hoping she continues.

Luckily, she does.

“Your mom was horrified! But everyone else thought it was hysterical. Even your Dad was a little into it…”

You snort a little, as does she.

“It was also so good to see Pepper let go for a minute, too she’s been so busy with Stark Industries shit, and watching her dance with Morgan after that adorable little thing ‘caught’ that stupid thing at the bouquet throwing.

“And I hope you know everyone was crying with us when we finally said, ‘I do.’ Even your Dad, but Thor especially…I had no idea that man could so sob so loud…”

It all lulled together after that, white noise as you found yourself floating on air and caught in an indefinable cloud of contentless.

Natasha brings you back to reality, eventually, easily turning you around and leaving kisses along your eyes, nose, cheeks, then your lips.

“You good?” she asks, watching as your eyes flitter open.

You nod, voice weak. “Yeah, yeah. I’m…good.”

Natasha gets out first, drying off while keeping an eye on you in the tub. With your blurry vision from just waking up and the bright lights that line the large mirror behind her, she looks angelic, like she just fell straight from Heaven into your Honeymoon Suite.

As you watch her, you expect large, heavy wings to sprout from her back – eclipse the LED lights and burn your eyes, blinding you for all eternity.

But, if the last thing you ever saw your beautiful wife naked…you wouldn’t mind, all that much, never being able to see her again. This image, now, would be enough.

Luckily, though, you aren’t going blind, and you’re able to see as she pulls her hair into a loose bun before grabbing two large towels and previously discarded robe.

Natasha helps you out of the tub, making you stand as she dries off you off – paying special attention to your center and chest and ass.

“Stop teasing me,” you mumble as she works your way to your spine.

She just smirks. “My dear, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You just roll your eyes as she wraps up your hair and pulls you into the robe – silent as she carries you bridal style to the large bed where she leaves you, sitting, before going back to the bathroom.

You stay there, positioned with a towel around your body and wrapped in your hair, listening Natasha drain the tub, turn on the faucet, and do other things you don’t have the brain power to listen to.

She returns with your hairbrush and a glass of water, pulling you into her lap facing away from her.

You sip at the cool water as she undoes the towel in your hair, carefully undoing the tangles and leaving occasional light kisses across your exposed shoulders.

“Do you want your hair up or down, babe?” she asks, pulling a hair tie from the end of the brush.

You blush as you respond. “Could you, uh, do those braids I like?”

Natasha just smiles, grabbing a small, opaque, black matte box you hadn’t noticed before.

“Of course,” she says, opening it with a small click and pulling out a few bobby pins. “Of course, I can, my love. I’d do anything you asked of me.”

You sit there, patient as the youngest girl at a sleepover desperate for the acceptance of her older sister’s friends, as she makes two braids and wraps them around your head, letting small tendrils frame your face.

Natasha grabs a small compact from the spot bed where the box was, holding it in front of you to show off her precise work.

You sigh deeply, happily, tucking a bit behind your ear as you admire it. Your wife has beautiful, precise handiwork in all she does, in all she touches – especially when it comes to your hair.

Each morning you’ve had the privilege to wake up next to each other, Natasha had taken the time to do your hair – even if it meant propping you up in your sleep. It was a silent, artful way that she told you that she loved you, an easier way for her to express her feelings without having to voice them directly.

Seeing her to this now, while you’re awake, without the sleep in your eyes or the impending stress of the day…it all nearly brings you to tears.

You turn to face her, pulling her in for a deep kiss. “I love you so much,” you tell her, a few tears falling down your face – the taste of salt spreading on your tongue.

Natasha smiles, waiting to break away until your lungs scream for air and she gives you a moment to grant them the oxygen they desire.

(Sometimes you forget she’s learned how to hold her breath for a simply ridiculous amount of time – great for some things, bad for others).

Once you’re back to breathing like the normal ole civilian you are, Natasha pushes you back into place in her lap, the only thing separating you being the slightly-damp but still-quite-fluffy towel.

With your hair dealt with, though, Natasha makes the decision to pull it off.

You hiss slightly as your skin becomes exposed to the cool air of the spacious suite, pressing yourself further against Natasha’s steadfastly heated skin.

“Oh, baby,” Natasha coos. “Let me warm you up…”

For a minute you think she means she’ll put you in a sweatshirt, but as her hand trails between your breasts and down your stomach you – you understand what she means.

Her fingers spread your folds easily, other hand teasing at your sensitive inner thighs. You moan unabashedly and press your back more firmly against her chest, digging your heels into the bed for purchase as a single finger enters you.

“You’re so pretty when you’re like shit,” Natasha murmurs in your ear, leaving a kiss on the shell of it. You can feel her smile as you tighten momentarily around her fingers. “So beautiful when you let me have all this power over you.”

You swallow the thick lust in your throat, trying to clear path for a coherent answer.

It never comes.

“You looked so beautiful when you walked down the aisle,” Natasha says, pushing another finger inside of you while the hand at your thigh moves to your breasts, just like in the bath. “I didn’t know what to think – whether I should be the sobbing bride to-be or if I should pick you up and find the nearest bathroom and just take you there.”

She crooks her fingers just so, eliciting a deep, guttural moan from you.

“God, and then the reception,” she says into your throat, leaving bruising kisses there. “You looked so happy, and I was so happy, and-“

You grab onto the wrist of the hand that’s driving into you, keeping her close as her free hand palms harder at your tender breasts, groping at them as she continues.

“Then it hit me,” she tells you, bringing you closer and closer to your release as each second passes. “It’s you, you make me happy, my beautiful wife.”

A third is added, coaxing you to release.

“That’s right,” Natasha moans into your ear. “Come for me, my beautiful wife.”

And, God, you do – reaching your peak with a shout, your legs shaking and hands gripping whatever skin you can reach.

Natasha works you through it, fucking her fingers in and out of you in time with the bucking of your hips. Even as your legs shake and you throw yourself against her, she doesn’t let up until you beg for her to cease her actions.

“Are you sure, love?” Natasha coos into your ear. “Are you sure you don’t want me to your peak over and over and over again? You don’t want me to bring you pleasure until you can’t take it anymore?”

You scream something unintelligible – hoping the expensive wallpaper and rich fellow hotel goers can’t hear you as you babble, mind frying as the coil in your abdomen tightens again.

More less more less stop don’t stop please I want you I want everything Natasha I love you I love you Natasha I’ll do anything you want me to Natasha-

Your brain short-circuits as you come once more, vision going to nothing but bright white for what feels like eternity.

Eventually Natasha lets you go, allows you to slump against her as you pant and attempt to regain a foothold in reality.

“Good?” Natasha asks once your eyes have recovered their focus, glaze receding.

You sigh happily. “Very much so.”

“You tired?” she asks.

You shrug, letting out a light yawn. “A little.”

Natasha just laughs. “You too tired for more?”

You shake your head, beaming. “Never.”

She lays you gently onto the bed, and leaves a kiss to the side of your mouth before retrieving her (and your) favorite strap on, putting it on and adjusting it with ease.

It’s average-sized, glossy, and black, showing off Natasha’s expertise. You sigh happily when she comes into view, climbing on top of you with ease.

You’re pliant under her rough hands, allowing her to push your knees to your chest and bend you in half to give her easier access to your pussy, still soaked and desperate from before.

“So wet for me,” Natasha murmurs as she aligns herself with your center. “Always ready for me, aren’t you?”

Your nod is cut short when you slam your head against the pillow, skin on fire as she fucks in and out of you.

Wait, scratch that.

This isn’t fucking, there’s no way something this beautiful can be qualified as something as crude “fucking.” No, no – this is making love; you wife is making love to you.

The realization hits you like a train, wiping your lungs of their capacity and making your blood ring loudly in your ears. It’s enough to make you feel too far from her – from the woman currently on top of you. In a heartbeat it’s like she’s a million miles away and a few lightyears away, and no – that simply will not do.

You tangle your fingers in Natasha’s hair, messy bun long dissolved into a field of her beautiful red hair as you pull at her roots, making her moan as you wrap your legs around her waist to pull her impossibly closer to you. For a second you hope her skin becomes yours and vice versa, soldering you together like two pieces of a sculpture. Maybe then she’ll feel close enough, like she isn’t back in space and saving the world for the thousandth time.

“God, I’m gonna come,” you moan, “Fuck don’t stop! Please, God, don’t fucking stop!”

Natasha smiles as she watches your blissed-out face, reaching between you to rub at the most sensitive part of you, using your slick to rub sharp, tight circles there.

You come with her skin pressed harshly to yours, her murmuring sweet nothings into your hairline as your fingernails nearly draw blood.

Natasha doesn’t stop fucking the strap in and out of you, chasing her own high. She reaches her peak just as the waves of pleasure are subsiding – allowing you clear vision of her cursing out of her breath and screwing her eyes shut and her jaw tensing then going slack.

Just as she never ceases, you continue to fuck yourself on the toy as she grinds her clit into its base, soon making her twitch as it becomes too much for her.

After a minute she stills for just a moment, coming down from the last of her high as you pull her down for a heated, sloppy kiss.

Her lips taste like you and you moan as it hits your tongue, kissing anywhere you can reach as she pulls out of you – leaving you feeling empty.

You’re about to whine but she shushes you with another kiss, silencing you.

“Just a moment, love,” she whispers. “Wait just a moment.”

She hastily lays down next to you, pulling you on top of her effortlessly.

That’s when you begin to understand – being to instinctively grinding down onto her strap as her hands form a death grip on your hips.

“Fuck yeah,” she moans. “Grind down on me just like that.”

You align her with your center once more as you begin to ride her, one hand on the headboard and the other planted in the sheets next to her head.

One hand moves to your ass, digging her nails into the supple flesh while the other goes to your hip – guiding you forward and back.

She watches you closely, watches as your eyes roll back and head falls to the side; watches as your muscles tenses in your stomach and feels it in your back.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” she tells you. “Look so fucking beautiful on top of me, fucking yourself on my cock.”

The hand on your hip moves to brush lightly against your clit, making you nearly scream once more from how oversensitive you are.

“F-fuck, Nat!” You’re almost there, so fucking close, all you need is a little more-

“Stop,” Natasha commands.

Regretfully, caught under the spell that is Natasha fucking Romanoff, you do. You still and you stay there – inert  as you wait for whatever it is she wants you to do that requires you to resist every carnal impulse that’s telling you to keep going don’t stop please don’t stop it feels so good I never want to stop please don’t stop!

Silently, she readjusts, keeping you close to her as she moves, smirking as you gasp when she not-so-subtly “accidentally” bucks her hips.

She pulls you with her as she leans against the lush pillows, folding her hands behind her head as she makes herself comfortable.

You’re confused, almost mad, not understanding what’s going on until Natasha tsks. “Come one, babygirl. Give me a show, won’t you? Don’t you want to give me something good to watch?”

You nod furiously and gulp, suddenly feeling very small and needy as you plant your hands on her sternum, using her for balance once more as you fuck your hips down onto her strap.

You’re still close, so close, and carefully you remove one hand to rub at your clit, desperate to find your high once again as your eyes flit between watching the toy slide in and out of you and watching her intently – determined to commit this moment to memory.

It drives you, nearly makes you choke as your lungs and heart and stomach contract and constrict and your muscles scream for air as they throw you off the proverbial cliff, throwing your head back and clawing at Natasha’s skin once more as you’re lost in an ocean of fire, of electricity that jumps across your skin as you fall to the deep sea below, tumbling and dropping into a vat of the best fucking thing you’ve ever felt into your entire life.

You shake, oh do you shake and bare your teeth and arch your back and think is this what Heaven feels like? Is this what angels all become harpists for? If you fell at the hands of the instrument, could you feel the same way forever?

You scream louder than a banshee as you come, falling on top of Natasha as you do so, panting and sweaty as Natasha leaves kisses wherever she can.

Eventually you roll to the side, allowing her to remove the toy and toss it in the open drawer of the side table to be cleaned and used later as you reach for a $7 bottle of water that had been strategically placed by housekeeping.

You cap it once you’ve downed half of it, placed it back gingerly as Natasha speaks once more.

“Another round, wife?” she asks, smiling ear to ear.

You give her a small laugh before turning over to curl up into her chest, thumbing at your new ring as you speak. You and Natasha had elected not to get engagement rings, and you knew this small act would become a newfound habit of yours.  “Maybe after some rest.”

She smiles, kissing the top of your head as a large menu across the room catches her eye. “And some room service?”

You look up, grinning wickedly. “How about a lot of room service?”

Natasha laughs as she imagines Tony’s face when he gets the bill from the hotel, sighing and rubbing his face and asking one of his robots to make him a drink.

“Oh yeah, a lot of room service.”

[daisukefmd]

hey guys, it’s oli here, late as ever. sorry to be so tardy to the party, but work’s been kicking my ass for the past week ;-; but fortunately i have today and tomorrow off, so i’ll be around to plot and get some threads going! below the cut, you’ll find his background info, how he came to be an idol, present day stuff and everything in between. if you’re interested in plotting, just drop a like and i’ll shoot you a dm!

BACKGROUND

he’s the youngest of five children and he was born in kobe, japan. he’s always been a little bit on the more quieter side of things. his preschool teachers used to try to tell his parents that he was antisocial and wouldn’t interact with the other kids, but the truth was just that he was quiet and shy. his whole family is quiet and shy too, something his teachers found out when his parents came in for their meeting about daisuke. he was definitely a wall flower while he was growing up, which was pretty difficult to believe given the fact that he was always the tallest person in his class ever since he was a little kid. despite his height, he always managed to fade into the background.

he continued to fade into the background until he was about thirteen years old and he was scouted by a label in japan for his height and visuals. he was thrust into training, where they discovered that he had a pretty decent singing voice and they decided to make him the main vocal of that group. it was supposed to be an idol super group (think akb48 but with a bunch of guys instead). unfortunately the company lost more money than they gained and they ended up shutting down and his group disbanded before he could gain any real recognition with the public.

he had only been out of the group for a week before bc found him and asked his parents if they could take him to south korea to be in an idol group they were debuting. it didn’t take much to convince his parents, and a month later he was being shipped off to south korea. he arrived at the end of the summer in 2014 and officially joined bc entertainment as a trainee. 

being a foreigner made forming connections and bonds with others difficult for him as well. it didn’t help that he was socially awkward and tended to stick to himself when he wasn’t training or sitting through lessons. his first year and a half as a trainee was spent more or less on his own, which took a huge toll on his mental health at the time. he was lonely, but he had never really learned how to reach out and form friendships with one another. it didn’t help that he was so far away from his family, whom he had never spent more than a few days from at a time.

the year and a half mark brought along not only stronger korean language skills, but a certain comfortability being in south korea. he had grown used to it by then, and while he would have preferred to be home with his family, he had figured out a way to cope by just burying his negative feelings deep down until he didn’t really acknowledge them anymore. not the healthiest way to cope, but it was all he could do at the time. fortunately, on the brighter side of things, he had formed a handful of friendships that made being away from his family a little easier for him.

he had began to grow a little weary that his debut would never come because he had been a trainee for over two years, but then bc told him that he’d be participating in cloud6. usually, daisuke isn’t a competitive person, but he couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t give his all on the show. he knew that his personality fell flat, so he worked hard to make sure that his talent more than made up for his more subtle and underwhelming persona.

while he was praised by many for his hard work ethic and strong voice, he was attacked by just as many for being boring, some hateful comments even taking shots at his cultural background. while that was something he had been expecting, he wasn’t stupid enough to believe that everyone would be accepting of a foreigner, it did hit him very hard. he just wanted to sing and there he was, being attacked for something that he couldn’t even change.

despite all of that, he ended up ranking in third place on cloud6 and ended up debuting in cloud. he was happy to make it to the end, but he was also a little hesitant in his happiness because he was met with such criticism when his ranking was announced. people accused the show of rigging and giving daisuke his spot, and it made him question his own ranking for quite some time.  was his spot given to him? did he really earn it? those were thoughts that ran through his mind consistently, and still do whenever he’s in a particularly bad place mentally.

cloud’s success was a source of happiness for daisuke for a while - still is, however not as much. he was glad that they were being well received, but as the years dragged along, he couldn’t help but crave more. he wanted to start dipping his toes into other aspects of the entertainment industry, mainly creating his own music. he had learned a lot from the industry, and he wanted to step out of the realm that cloud had created for him and try out something new. he was given the opportunity to do so with his debut album and solo releases so far. however his next album will be completely his sound, different from anything cloud’s released before, and he’s excited that bc’s letting him experiment a bit more. 

DAISUKE’S OFFICIAL IMAGE 

while cloud’s overall image might be bright and refreshing, daisuke’s personality and persona don’t really fit into that category. on stage, he’s more than capable of putting out that vibe during performances, however once he steps foot off stage, he’s retreating back into his real self - quiet and reserved. despite bc trying consistently to bring him out of his shell during his trainee years and the first few months of cloud’s career, they eventually found an image that could work for him. daisuke’s job in cloud is to be the buffer. he’s the calm, cool and collected one. the mediator. he’s literally and figuratively the middle child of cloud. he balances the group out really well, adding a personality that’s the opposite of his group members’.

he’s marketed as mature, intelligent and hard working. the voice of reason in the group. respectful, the kind of guy your parents would trust their daughter with. a lot of cloud’s fans have even called him “regal” because of how he carries himself and speaks. the general public sees him as a strong vocalist, one of the better ones of the current k-pop generation, but they don’t know much about him aside from that. most of the time he makes headlines is because of his singing, and bc likes to keep it that way. there’s a slight air of mystery around him that makes him interesting enough to pay attention to. bc does have a habit of using that to their advantage whenever they can, and so far it has worked for daisuke. a lot of people are, surprisingly, drawn to his quiet demeanor and hard working attitude.

OTHER INFO

some people are a little intimidated by him because he’s not really smiley and he’s super tall (he’s about 6′5″) but he’s really not a bad guy. he’s just really quiet and shy, but if you can make your way through his shell, you’ll have a great friend. he loves his group members, although it may not seem like it because he’s not really affectionate, but he’s happy with them.

most people are shocked whenever he sings because his speaking voice is so deep and then he sings and that voice comes out of him lmao not to mention his physical appearance contradicts his singing

he knows that his stage name is ‘dai’ because it’s probably to make it easier for koreans to pronounce, but he hates it lmao he hates nicknames and pet names and anything of the like.

while he’s still a quiet guy that prefers to keep to himself, he’s not as much of a pushover as he used to be. he has a voice for himself, and he speaks up for himself when he needs to. 

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It- Prologue: Well F**k Me!

Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary: The Losers infiltrate a Child Sex Trafficking operation based in the Middle East thanks to their inside woman. New to the team, Stella has never met the men she will be working with going forward, all except for one that is...

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s PLEASE!!!! This also deals with mentions of Child Sex slavery, but no details really. 

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

A/N: So this is written for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ 's challenge, and our prompt was the photo below. We'd also like to submit this for @jtargaryen18​ 's 30 Days of Chris challenge. As you will gather form the title, we fully intend this to be  a Series as well, which will arrive at some point. Hope you enjoy, let us know what you think!

Happy Birthday Evans, you beautiful bastard!!

The mission was simple, well, on paper. Clay and the rest of his specially selected Black-Ops team were charged with bringing down a child sex trafficking ring being operated by a number of corrupt US and UK Soldiers who were currently stationed in Iraq. His person on the inside had successfully infiltrated the ring following a 6 month period of being undercover and thanks to them they now knew how it was being operated. The kids targeted were orphans, so there was no one there to make a fuss or protect them. They were taken from the streets, refugee camps and then smuggled into Turkey (not Syria as they had originally thought)  where they were transported to Hakkari before being auctioned off and handed over to whoever it was that had bought them for the evening, ready for whatever disgusting fate awaited them. This process was repeated several times over a week, before the kids were then disposed of before a fresh new bunch brought in for the next auction in three months time. 

It was slick, well organised, and fucking disgusting. But Clay knew he had to keep that disgust at bay, if he had any chance of keeping his cover. Earlier that day Cougar had successfully taken out one of the original players who would be attending the auction, thanks once more to the info their insider had passed on, and Clay had taken his place. He sat in the plush, velvet arm-chair which surrounded a dimly lit stage, a glass of scotch in one hand, cuban in the other. Coupled with his dark suit and open collar white shirt, he looked to be a seamless copy of the the rest of the perverts lounging in equally opulent seats around the circle. 

A literal paedophile ring. 

"In position..."  

Roque spoke into the tiny ear-piece Clay was wearing. He had no microphone, nothing. Wearing anything like that was far too big a risk, but the ear piece as designed by Jensen was far too small for them to have noticed. It meant he could still hear what was going on, and once he gave the signal his team plus the rest of the CIA officers waiting outside would swamp the place. And if a few of the perverts happened to hit a few steps or fists on their way out, no one was going to cry about it. 

"We have visual on you Colonel..." 

Pooch spoke again "Jensen hacked the CCTV and is now about to cut their comms..."

"Easy as pie..." Jensen muttered  "And as I am a genius, they are now officially unable to contact the outside world..."

"If you're a genius then they seriously need to rethink what they call Einstein..."  Pooch retorted.

“Shut up Pooch, not my fault you can't even figure out how to work a laptop..."

"Enough!"  Roque cut across the banter, Cougar's chuckle hitting Clay's ear as he watched a pretty, slim blonde Woman striding onto stage

. "It's starting. Keep comms clear until further instructions received."

Clay looked at the woman, her black dress was tight leaving little to the imagination. Her hair was pulled back into a high pony-tail and her lips were painted a blood red. Dark eyeshadow adorned her lids and her calculating blue eyes scanned the room, falling on him for a second before she continued looking around, a smile curling across her face. She looked the part of a Gentlemans Club owner. Pristine, perfectly put together, but she was a female pimp- nothing more, nothing less. 

"Gentlemen, welcome." she spoke, her soft American accent cutting across the rooms and Clay noted the slight New-England twang she had. "The Auction is about to begin but I must first of all run down a few rules with you. You will find to your right your bidding pads. Should you wish to bid, tap the button. Simply put, highest bidder wins. Once your purchase has been made and the monies have been collected from your specified accounts, you will be invited to meet with your latest acquisition in the specially provided rooms. They are yours to do with as you wish until 9 am tomorrow morning upon which time they will be collected from your rooms and your personal effects will be returned. All we ask is that you do not kill them. It becomes messy and attracts unnecessary attention to the club from the outside."

She turned and barked something in Turkish to someone and a door to the back of the room opened. The woman moved to another smaller plinth at the back of the room as a man dragged a crying girl, that can't have been older than 9 years, dressed in nothing but her underwear onto the circular plinth under the spotlights.

"Fuck..."

 Clay heard Pooch's disgusted voice in his ear.

"This is sick."

 Jensen muttered.

And it was. But Clay had to remain still, and silent. The play was simple, he put in a few bids and hung back. But at some point, when he was sure they had enough evidence, he would enter a bid of a million. That was the team's cue to move.

He let the first girl go, much as he didn't want to. But seeing her being dragged off the stage was enough to make him decide he was ending it with the second. He couldn't take watching another kid go through that, they had to have enough to bust this wide open, surely. 

The next was a small, dark haired boy. He was pulled onto the stage by the burley guard, trembling, his brown eyes wide in fear. The bidding began. 10, 12, 15 thousand... at that point Clay hit his button, submitting his bid of 20. It was beaten, so he entered another and was beaten again.

"Bidding stands now at 40 thousand." the woman spoke. "Any further bids?"

Clay pushed his button "1 million." he spoke clearly. The woman cocked her head to one side, her eyebrow raising but before she could say anything the doors to the back of the room blew off.

Jensen, Cougar, Roque and Pooch flew into the room, flanked by a number of CIA agents and army officers as there was the usual pandemonium associated with a raid. As Jensen sprinted off down a corridor to the left in search of their Offices and computers,  Pooch tossed a gun to Clay who joined the fray. He looked up in time to see the woman who had been running the auction sprinting out of the room down another corridor, but before he could say anything Roque was after her.

"You sick, fucking bitch..." Roque mumbled as he sprinted down the winding corridors in the depths of the club almost tripping over her discarded heels as he went. Eventually he caught up with her, just as she raised a gun that she seemed to have produced from nowhere, shooting someone in front of her. Just as the shot rang out, Roque threw himself onto her, taking her down. She struggled a little in his arms, her strength taking him by surprise as they tangled together but eventually his strength won out and he pinned her on his back. His hand reached up to grab the wrist of the arm she held her gun in and he banged it sharply on the floor a few times until she dropped her weapon.  He looked at her face for a second, and something flashed in her eyes. Almost relief and she let out a breath.

"I'll come quietly" she said and Roque shook his head.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you right here, right now."

"Because you need me." she shrugged "I'm your key to busting this whole thing wide open."

"Get up..." Roque snarled, as he hauled her to her feet, secured her wrists behind her back with his restraints. He looked her up and down and noticed that her dress had ripped slightly, exposing her right thigh flashing the hold-ups and garter straps he was wearing, into which was tucked another pistol. He ripped it from the strap which ran up and over a large, floral tattoo before he spun her round and with the gun jabbed into her back, he pushed her in front of him back the way he had come. 

"Can I at least get my shoes?" she asked. Roque looked at her, incredulously, but let her slip the heels back on before they continued, emerging into the large cavernous room containing the stage. The plush velvet chairs now scattered all over the place, shreds of fabric still in the air as they were riddled with bullet holes and Clay was barking orders to someone in an Army uniform who nodded, and started to instruct his men to move out the prisoners they had taken to the waiting vehicles. Pooch and Cougar turned to face him first, before Clay spun round. The woman Roque was holding looked Clay in the eye and arched her eyebrow slightly as she raised her chin in defiance. 

"Caught her in the back, she shot one of the other operators." Roque said, his gun nudging her forward another step "Probably to stop him talking."

Clay eyed her for a second, before a wide grin split across his face and he looked at Roque "Let her go, she's one of us."

"What?" Roque blinked, not sure he had heard correctly. Behind Clay Pooch and Cougar exchanged a look.

"I said she's one of us." Clay said, "She's my person on the inside."

Roque paused for a moment, looking at Clay then to the woman who turned to face him, her shoulders shrugging slightly "I told you I was your key to busting this wide open."

Roque uncuffed her and she moved her arms, rubbing her wrists slightly. "Sorry." he said gruffly.

"It's fine, you didn't know..." she said, cocking her head to one side "But can I have my guns back?"

Roque fished in the waistband of his jeans and handed her the two pistols which she slipped back into her suspenders, giving a little moan. " You ruined my dress..."

Pooch and Cougar gave a little snigger each and Roque glared at them both. Clay, however, ignored the 3 of them completely and looked at the woman.

"Did you get him?"

She nodded "Bullet straight through his head. I never miss." 

"Through the head?" Pooch looked at her.

"It was a shoot to kill order." she shrugged "So I shot and I killed him."

Cougar tipped his hat slightly in approval as Pooch looked at him, then to Clay, then to Roque. Clay let out a huff of a laugh before he turned to the team.

"This is Stella Stevenson, aka Arty..."

"Like Artrois...that's clever." Pooch chuckled.

Arty grinned at him as Roque looked at Clay "Emma's replacement, right?"

Clay nodded. "She's slightly less volatile..." 

Arty raised an eyebrow "Until I'm pushed...although leaving a bomb in someone's car is far too crude for my liking. You wouldn't see me coming, Clay."

Clay snorted "Losers, treat her well. She's like a daughter to me, we go way back."

She smiled, and then looked around before she nodded to a door at the back, gesturing at them to follow her. "Everything you need is on the systems. I buried it as deep as I could to stop them deleting any of it. You got names, dates, transactions..."

"They kept transactions?" Pooch frowned as they walked down towards the offices she was indicating. 

"Key blackmail opportunities." Clay took a deep breath.

"Which I daresay we'll uncover as well." she spoke "This goes deep Clay. Deep. And it's not the only one. They're operating out of Syria and Afghanistan too."

"Ok." Clay nodded, "Let's see if Jensen is done retrieving the intel off the systems and then we can-"

"Jensen?" Arty blinked at the mention of the familiar name and Clay turned to her grinning "You son of a bitch..." she laughed, shaking her head.

Roque, Cougar and Pooch exchanged a look.

"What did we miss?" Roque asked as they stopped outside a door.

"You're about to find out..." Clay said, pushing the door open.  The 5 of them stepped inside and Clay looked at Jensen who had their back to them  and was leaning over a screen, his nose almost touching it. "You get what we need?"

Jensen didn't look up. "I was right, they had an automatic virus in here that can be remote operated but the stuff was buried deep, by someone who wanted to make sure it didn't get wiped, they clearly knew what they were doing..." he mused, and Clay glanced at Arty who raised an eyebrow "Just transferring it back to base now. We got names, dates, transaction history...and there are a few very naughty senators who are gonna be getting their collars felt. Which is better than them getting their balls felt by 12 year olds..."

"Shame you weren't this good at Mario Karts JJ..." Arty spoke and Jensen stilled slightly before he whipped around in his seat.

"Stel?" he spoke, utterly astounded as he stood up, his dark green t-shirt rippling over his chest. 

She looked at him for a second "I thought you were in Afghanistan." she cocked her head to one side, taking his appearance in. He hadn't changed a bit in the year or so it had been since she had seen him last. Same cheeky and boyishly handsome face, same spiky blonde hair, same broad shoulders which tapered into a slim waist.

"I thought you were in Iraq." he shot back, eyeing her up and down. She hadn't changed a jot either. Same curvy figure, same long legs and he let out a moan as he saw the guns strapped to her thigh through the rip in her dress.

"Are you wearing suspenders?"  His eyes widened before they worked  their way up her body.

"Always were observant Jakey." she grinned as his eyes locked onto her own, those crystal blue orbs shining slightly in the light of the room.

"Alright quit perving and for your information she was in Iraq." Clay said, "Under my orders."

"Well..." Jensen nodded, his hands falling to his hips as he looked down at his feet before he glanced back at Stella then Clay "Fuck me."

"Ok, what's this all about? You know each other or something?" Roque asked, gesturing between them with his hand.

Pooch rolled his eyes "Good call Roque, you think?"

"She's my best friend..." Jensen grinned, "All the way through middle and high-school..."

Stella barked out a laugh "So that's what we're calling it now?"

"Ok, best friend with...certain benefits.. if you get my drift." Jensen shrugged, his eyes twinkling cheekily. 

A that, Pooch let out a groan whilst Cougar smirked

"Nice..." he said, tipping his hat, speaking for the first time since Arty had met him, a low chuckle escaping his mouth.

 Roque blinked and turned to Clay "And you knew about this?"

"I told you, she's like a daughter to me..." Clay shrugged.

Jensen and Arty stood still, not really paying attention, simply looking at one another, until Jensen grinned and threw his arms open  "Come here!"

With a grin she threw herself at him and he hugged her tight, arms wrapping around her back as he lifted her off the floor slightly and kissed her cheek "It's good to see you Stel."

"You too Jakey"

********

After an hour or so, Clay signalled to the team that it was time to depart and they headed to the chopper that was waiting to take them out of Turkey and to the UN Base in Damascus where their handler was waiting to talk to them. The man, known only to them as David, took all the information down, told them what was likely to happen over the next few days and informed them that they would be ex-filled back to CIA HQ in DC in the next week or so, for full debrief. They were shown to their quarters for the next few days, which were all private rooms in the officers' lodgings, thank God, and they all retrieved their kit bags from the piles that were waiting for them, Arty's own pack being significantly smaller. 

"Hope it's all the right size." Clay nodded towards it. She smiled and took it from him with a thanks..

"Sure it will do...hang on, did you buy me underwear as well?"

He shrugged

"Ok, that's kinda gross..."

"I said I was like your dad..." he arched an eyebrow, "Not that I actually was. The rest of your stuff from the base will be shipped back, most likely waiting for you by the time we exfil."

"Thanks Clay."

The team bid each other goodnight and Arty, once in her room headed straight for a shower. She turned the water on as hot as she could stand, and stepped under with a light groan, scrubbing her body and hair down as if the soap and shampoo would wash away the last 6 months. It wouldn't, of course. Some of the things she had seen and had to do during her stint undercover had been vile, and she knew would stick with her for the rest of her life but she had known that it wouldn't be easy. She needed to compartmentalise, decompress, which was the whole point of the debriefs and psyche evaluation she would be subject to when she got back to DC, just like any agent returning back into the fold after a mission. Arty knew the drill, it wasn't the first undercover op she had been involved in, having been a part of Delta Force for almost 2 years now, but it was the first one during which she had been directly undercover herself following recruitment into the CIA Special Ops Group Ground force. She knew that you never stayed in Special Ops long, it was a short term thing few people were lucky enough to be chosen for and could be cut even shorter if one of the missions left your face too easily recognisable, so Stella was intending to make the most of it even though she knew already it was gruelling. 

And then there was Jensen. She had no idea he was working for the CIA but then, why would she? That was the point of Black Ops. Covert. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little upset at how far they actually had drifted since they had last seen each other 12 months ago. When they both went their separate ways after completing the ROTC, they'd promised to stay in touch, and to be fair for the most part over the past 8 years they'd done just that. Phone calls, emails, and then spending any time they could when they both had leave at the same time together, but it had certainly waned over the last year and, well, now she knew why.

Turning off the shower she dried off and dug out the night wear Clay had provided her with. Pleasantly surprised and pleased to find a pair of pale yellow pyjama shorts and matching tank top she shrugged them on before she flicked on the small TV that was attached to the wall, and just as she was about to throw herself on the bed there was a knock on her door. Knowing full well it would only be one person she padded barefoot over the clean, but clinical flooring and opened it. 

Jensen leaned against the door frame, barefoot and dressed in a pair of black shorts and a white tank top, his handsome face sporting his trademark grin as he held up a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Me and my friend Jack were just takin' a stroll, thought we'd pop by for a catch up." He watched as she smiled, and stepped back to let him in. His eyes slid up her bare legs to her shorts and over her ass for a second before he shut the door behind him. "Not gonna lie Stel, was kinda hoping you'd still be in that dress and those damned thigh holsters."

"They only come out for special occasions." she quipped, heading over to the small kitchen area at the back of the room and waving 2 mugs. "You want one or we doing it straight from the bottle?"

"Why change the habit of a lifetime?" he snorted, twisting off the cap and taking a mouthful. She crossed towards him and he handed it to her and she took a loud mouthful, swallowing it as it burned her throat a little. "God it's hot when you do that."  She shot him a look as he took the bottle from her, placing it down on the side before he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer "Fuck, I missed you Stel."

"What happened to no strings attached?" She looked at him, her hands falling on top of his.

"I still really missed you...not just the sex...but you..." he shrugged. "You know I have..."

"That why we've hardly spoken in 12 months?" she looked at him.

"I emailed..." he frowned, one hand moving to run through his hair "You're the one that went silent 6 months ago."

"I was undercover..."

"You can be under the covers now too..." he grinned and she scoffed, shaking her head.

"Is this really wise if we're gonna be working together?"

"Since when have I ever done anything wise?" he shrugged, pushing his glasses back up his nose slightly.

"You should try it some time..." Stella said, patting his chest. She stepped back out of his hold, grabbed the bottle and took another drink before she walked to the bed and flopped down on it. "Assume the position JJ." she instructed him and he grinned, dropping down besides her and she handed him the bottle. Neither of them spoke for a moment, they fell into a comfortable silence, having been in this situation many times before. Lying side by side, drinking, just being close to one another. Jake took another mouthful of the liquor, stealing a glance at her as she sat besides him, her damp hair pulled into a braid, the spattering of freckles that adorned her nose and cheeks evident following her being fresh from the shower, the trace of her jawline down her throat to the slight swell of cleavage he could see thanks to the neckline of her tank top...

 As she made a gesture for the bottle he handed it to her, and she took it, her eyes still fixed on the TV, and she grimaced, nodding towards the screen. Jake followed her gaze as it was cutting to a News flash. 

"I said there would be some very nervous senators..." he quipped, as Stella shook her head as the footage of Capitol Hill rolled, the news reporter carrying the story about a number of arrests linked to a suspected Military Raid earlier that day. They both knew, however, that any arrests would have been made hours previously, as soon as the information they had syphone had hit the CIA base. The entire operation was timed to a tee.

"Hope they throw away the key. Sick bastards." she muttered "Honestly Jakey some of the stuff I saw...it was fucking disgusting."

Jake looped an arm round her shoulder and she lay her head against his chest, her arm looping over his stomach as he gave her a squeeze before she sat up again, taking the bottle. She took a large gulp, larger than her previous ones and pulled a face as she swallowed, her throat bobbing and he felt the familiar stirring in his pants. She looked at him for a moment, their eyes locking and his gaze flicked down to her mouth before it moved back up again as he took the bottle off her and blindly reached behind him, placing it on the table besides her bed.

"Wanna fuck?" he asked.

She shrugged "Sure, why not?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth, his lips crashed to hers in a bruising kiss and he smirked against her mouth as she straddled him, his hands falling to her hips as her mouth hungrily worked against his. Their lips molded together in a well known practice, her tongue teasing against his own before she pulled back, gently biting his bottom lip as she went, drawing a groan from his throat as he rest his head against hers, his eyes flickering open to lock onto hers. 

“You know…” Stella sighed, drawing back slightly to cup Jake's face in her fingertips “I'm liking this..." she traced her fingers lightly across his goatee, and he smiled at her as she reached up and took his glasses off, dropping them carelessly next to the bottle of Jack by their side. 

“It's supposed to make me look meaner…” he murmured, his lips gently brushing hers as their noses bumped together.

"Doesn't work, especially not with the bleach in your hair." she mumbled as his mouth trailed a path across her jawline and down the length of her neck "You're still that adorably yet slightly dorky 18 year old that took my cherry." "You took mine too Stel." he mumbled and her eyes closed as she rolled her head back, giving him access to more of her neck, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"How could I forget?" her voice was nothing more than a whisper as his fingers flexed on her hips, his groin pushing upwards, his hardness pressing into her core through their clothing. "I'm glad to report you got a lot better at it since then..." 

"Well, you'd know..."  he said, his tongue licking a line back up her throat as his hands grabbed at the bottom of her tank top. She moved to allow him to take it off and Jake looked down at her bare chest as she reciprocated the favour, pulling his top over his head, tossing it to the floor. Raising his head he gently nipped at the base of her neck, his hands sliding up her bare sides, calloused fingers ever so gentle over her ribs as his tongue flicked at her nipple as he took it in his mouth, drawling a loud groan from her as her hips bucked involuntarily at the sensation. 

God it really had been far too long.

Unable to take it anymore he flipped her over so she was on her back, his body sliding downwards as he dispensed of her shorts and then his own, before he kissed his way back up from her ankle all the way to that thigh tattoo which was ingrained in his memory forever. Well, most of it was anyway... 

"This...this is new. " he said gently, his fingers tracing the outline of the large, pink flower that sat at the top, almost in the crease of her hip.

"Go Petunias." she looked at him and he let out a bark of a laugh as she snaked her right leg in between both of his and using a well executed move she threw him on his back drawing a loud huff of surprise from him.

"Jesus Stel, give a guy a warning" he mumbled as she slid over him.

"Where's the fun in that?" she whispered,  brushing her lips across the hairs on his face tracing a path across from one side of his jawline to the other as his eyes fully closed in pleasure, large hands gripping at her thighs, then her hips as she shifted slightly to start taking him in. Her mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ as they both groaned as she slid down, her warmth engulfing him entirely.

"JJ..." she mumbled,  her hands falling to his chest as she held herself still "Jakey, look at me...wanna see you." He opened his eyes, locking them onto her own which were half-lidded with desire as she began to move. Her hips rotated as she ground down again, and again, his own rising to meet hers as she did. 

"Fuck, Stel..." he sighed, "Still feel so good baby girl..."

She grinned, and bit her lip as her hips moved again, his hands sliding down to grab at her ass as she pushed down harshly, causing him to grunt as she ground down against him, tilting herself forward finding that angle that always got her off. Her pace was slow, torturously so, but it wasn’t long before she began to move slightly faster, working him harder as she chased her relief. The roughness of his pubic hair was grinding against her spot, the friction feeling amazing as she pushed down. With every roll of her hips, Jensen's eyes which were still locked onto hers grew darker, and darker, his hands digging into her hips as he pulled her onto him, grinding upwards further and deeper.

He sat up suddenly, so they were face to face, the change of angle making her cry out, as he slid his hands moved round her back, pulling her close to him as he kissed and sucked at her neck, biting at that spot  beneath her ear whilst he held her still for a moment, gently thrusting upwards, deeply, slowly, savouring the moment. Stella rolled her head back, a louder cry this time tumbling from her lips and he felt her tighten around him,  pulsing strongly as her orgasm washed over her and he let out a groan of his own as her head fell forward to his shoulder, her groans soft in his ear.

“Good?” he whispered, smiling as she managed a broken noise of affirmation, and without giving her a moment to recover he flipped her onto her back, his hands lacing with hers at the side of her head as he began to thrust into her, his pace harder and faster.

"Jake..." she gasped, as his lips crashed onto hers, swallowing her cries as her nails dug into the back of his hands whilst he thrust into her with deep, powerful strokes. The sweat was beading over his brow as he broke the kiss, his head falling forward slightly as he felt his own relief beginning to creep up on him. He tugged his right hand free, sliding it down between them to rub at her sensitive nub as he pounded into her voraciously and she gave a loud wail her head tipping back into the pillow, her breathing ragged.

"Come on Stel..." he gasped, "Come on baby, give it to me..." And give it she did, her body shook underneath him as her mouth dropped open and she let out a loud noise which bubbled from her throat, as she once more succumbed to the wave of pleasure washing over her. The feel of her clenching around him was enough, and Jensen followed her right over the edge into delirium, his hips stuttering as his thrusts grew sloppy, riding his own orgasm out before he collapsed down on top of her, completely and utterly blissed out. They lay in silence, both struggling to gain control of their breathing in the aftermath, not a sound being made by either of them bar gasps for air as the TV continued to play in the background. Stella gently moved her hands up and down the expanse of muscle on his back, his skin slick to the touch and Jensen laid still, relishing the touch of her fingertips as they danced over his body.

Eventually he raised his head, propping himself up on his elbows as he gave her a lazy grin which she reciprocated. His hands cupped her cheeks, his lips seeking hers out once more for a kiss that was this time soft, gentle, a stark cry from the ardent ones they'd shared before. He pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers, gently brushing their noses together before he spoke, his voice slightly raspy from the exertion of the last 15 minutes or so. 

"Welcome to The Losers, Stel" he grinned.

[milkybunbuns]

smile → kita.s

Paying off debts - 1

wc: 1.3 k

warnings: swearing? i forgot if there was any, bad pick up line, bribing

a/n: This is one of my fics over on Wattpad that I’m going to continue here on Tumblr! :)) (if any of my wattpad readers are here, I’ll start posting new chapters that weren’t in my book in maybe like 3 days?)

SMILE MASTERLIST

-

3rd year students stood around the halls, holding brochures for their clubs and standing at their respective stalls. the school year had just started, along with your second year of high school, which meant it was time to either find a new club or stick with the club from the year before. it was mandatory to have a club as an extracurricular activity to gain life skills. last year, you had joined the art club, but recently it's been dying out and funds have been low, so that club was basically dead, making it better off for you to find a new club.

"y/n-chan!", a figure ran towards you, stopping in front of you and put her hands on her knees, panting. she held you by the shoulders staring into your eyes, "can you please please please carry on the role of manager, my parents are moving over to tokyo next week and i don't want to leave the boys without a manager, who knows what they could get up to. just please, fill in the role for me? it can just be for the rest of the year, as long as you find a new manager."

"eh, this is a bit sudden?", yui was the current manager of the inarizaki volleyball boys club and was in her third year. the two of you had never interacted much before, being in different grades, but she was the one who had shown you around in your first year, helping you get to classes and let's say,, she took quite the liking to you.

"take this as the repayment for the help i gave you in your first year."

'yuiii-senpaii, you cant just bribe me like that, now i feel obliged to do it."

"that's the whole point! now come on, I'm taking you over to the gym to show you the manager stuff and let you meet some of the players", she dragged you by your hand before you could even argue, heading towards the said place.

"i can walk yer know", you huffed, taking her grip off your hand as you began taking large strides to keep up with her fast-paced ones.

"ehehe, sorry y/n-chan."

"what do you even do as manager?" "you basically help around, setting up the nets, refilling bottles, finding practice matches and training camps for the boys and taking notes. it's not that hard i assure you."

"everything is easier said than done."

"oh shush, we're here anyways", yui slammed open the door with her foot, immediately gaining all the attention of the players.

"yui-san, don't slam the door open with your foot, you could hurt your foot or get sued for breaking the door."

"kita-san, stop being such a worry pants! anyways, here's your new manager, y/n-chan!", she pushed you forwards, turning all the attention to you. the miya twins paused from their practice, looking over to meet their new manager.

"she better not be a miya twin fan-", you heard a boy sitting on the ground grumbling, looking intently at his phone. ouch. that comment hurt.

you walked over to the said boy and looked down at him, hands on your hips with a dark aura surrounding you, you smiled sarcastically at him, "for yer info, I'm not ere' for the dumb miya twins, I'm simply repaying yui-senpai by having to deal with all yer dumbasses."

suna shivered internally, to having the balls to retort since not only did you emit 'evil' in capital letters, kita was also staring at him. you turned away from the boy at him, returning back to your spot next to yui who was discussing manager stuff with the coach. there was a little badge on his shirt which read 'kurosu norimune'.

"...and this is y/n-chan, she's a good kid, so i chose her to replace me as the next manager."

"is that so? well, welcome to inarizaki volleyball team, we hope you take good care of the players", he bowed down to you, which you did as well, "i'll do my best, thank you for giving me this opportunity."

"it's no problem at all, sometimes these boys are quite the handful. now hurry along and yui-san can teach you the basics of being a manager."

"yes, coach."

----

afternoon rolled around in a flash, the school bell dismissing everyone to head to their clubs. as soon as you step foot outside the classroom, an obnoxiously lowed voice called out to you from the stairs.

" heya y/n-chan! let's go, we don't wanna be late, especially on yer first day!"

"why are you making this seem like such a big deal?"

"it is a big deal! they say first impressions are very important y'know."

"eh, sure, lead the way yui-senpai."

the two of you burst in once again, except, this time everyone had been expecting it, so they continued to practise, ignoring the ruckus, until yui spoke up.

"alright yer fuckin' retards, listen up!", everyone turned their heads towards you two, there were many more faces compared to those in the gym at lunch. you turned your head away from the teenage boys and face palmed in embarrassment. "here's yer new manager, y/n-chan. i gotta leave next week, so make sure you idiots treat her well while im gone cause i have eyes everywhere. that mean's you, atsumu", she pointed at the said boy, as he shivered in fear and cowered under her gaze.

"thanks for having me", you murmured, bowing down slightly. generally, you were a quite social and jovial person, but it took you a while to be yourself around new and unfamiliar people, minus osamu who had been in your class last year.

a few moments of awkward silence passed by before yui spoke up again, "what are yer idiots waiting for, introduce yourselves for heaven's sake!", not even kita had the ability to scold or talk back to her...

kita stepped forwards first, being captain and all that shenanigans, "I'm kita shinsuke, captain of this team. it's a pleasure to meet you, y/n-san, we hope that you take good care of us", then he bowed before taking a step back.

then came omimi, "hello, i'm omimi ren, vice-captain and middle blocker, thank you for taking care of us", he bowed as well. okay, so far this team seemed pretty well-mannered, i mean what could go wrong? it's only 2 of all the members who act like total trash (the miya twins).

"hi! i'm ojiro aran, ace and third year. i look forward to being yer acquaintance and good luck dealing with the second years."

"hey, whaddya mean!?"

"shuddup tsumu!"

"Hey, Ginjima Hitoshi, wing spiker, the unfortunate second year."

"what is that supposed to mean!?"

"use your pea sized brain tsumu', he obviously means that you're the worst."

"we have literally the same DNA and crap."

"i seriously wish i wasn't related to yer, but hurry up and introduce herself, everyone's waiting for yer!"

"ah, okay okay, stop hitting me!"

"heyyy, miya atsumu, setter and gurl, are yer a setter? cause id hit that-"

"ow! samu', what was that for!?"

"for being an idiot, i'm doing us all a favour"

"osamu and atsumu, stop arguing, we dont have all day. anymore arguments from you two and you'll be running laps until i tell yer two to stop."

"yes kita-san!"

"suna rintarou, middle blocker."

"hey, i feel sorry that you have to deal with my twin, so im apologising on his behalf. y'already know me, miya osamu, wing spiker."

"hii! nice to meet yer, i'm akagi michinari, this team's libero. i look forward to working with you!"

"Ahh, it's nice to meet all of you as well! I hope we can all get along! Please treat me nicely!", you smiled brightly, blinding everyone while you were at it.

next

[wingsofkpop]

Important Blog Update: MAJOR Changes Coming — Please Read

I’ve honestly been holding off on making this post for the last few months for various reasons; one, being the fear of changing the dynamic this blog has grown accustomed for the past year, and two, the backlash I may receive because of said changes. After deep consideration, however, I think it would be best to go through with this. 

This year has brought so much to this blog, and I will forever be grateful for all the support I have received, but my writing style has evolved, and so has my interests and wants. Please keep in mind that you don’t have to agree with these changes, nor do you have to stay here if it upsets you that greatly. You are free to unfollow anytime, but you do not have the right to send hateful comments or insults. This is my blog, and I will continue to create what I want and what I enjoy. As I always say, please be kind to those around you. 

Below you will find a number of changes that will occur over the next few weeks or so. Once I have updated my rules and guidelines, hopefully by next week, I will open my requests again. Feel free to send me a respectful message if you have any questions or concerns: 

The only groups I will write for from now on are Got7 and Stray Kids — This is the main reason why I held off on making this post. I know I’ve said in the past that I wanted to add more groups, and at one point I did with Monsta X, Astro, and maybe Twice, but I eventually decided against it. It’s already hard enough to write for three groups as it is and figure out a way to dish out content in a way that one group is not getting more than another. Remember when I said that my interests have changed since I started this blog?... That’s why I won’t write for Day6 anymore. I don’t know what else to say except that I find more enjoyment in writing for Got7 and Stray Kids. I still love the boys of Day6 very much, nor do I hold any ill will toward them--it’s just how things changed, and I apologize to anyone who is disappointed by this, but I stand by my opinions and my decisions. 

I will no longer be writing reactions — To be completely honest, I don’t know why I ever began writing reactions in the first place. I’ve never really liked to write them, especially since they can become very repetitive after awhile (literally every NSFW Got7 reaction I’ve written). I’ve always preferred to write actual storylines that come with drabbles and one-shots. And though it’s not a necessary reason, finding gifs to go with each of the members reaction is just so fucking annoying cause sometimes Tumblr screws with the tags and visibility of the post and it just proves to be more hassle than worth.

In regards to Timestamp Sunday, I will only post FIVE stamps per Sunday from now on — Listen y’all, writing 6+ stamps per day is just pure chaos. I know they’re short, but they still require a lot of work and effort. Plus, it probably annoys some of you when I’m spamming new posts left and right. So from now on, when I ask for timestamp requests, there will be a first come, first serve, wait list type of system kind of similar to Timestamp Weekend. More info on this will be provided at a later date. 

New addition of Got7/Stray Kids specific member as... bulleted lists (no clue what to call them yet) — These will be kind of similar to reactions, but much easier, more fun, and less time-consuming to write. I could spit out a couple of these all in the span of a week, plus the idea itself just sounds appealing. Again, more info will be provided at a later time. 

New theme, schedule, masterlists and other links (again) — This shouldn’t surprise anyone to be honest lol. My masterlists will be out of commission when I eventually update them, but I’ll let you guys know when that time comes. In the mean time, I’ll also have to decide whether I want Jaebeom or Chris as my profile pic :( 

Group chat for other writing blogs/writers to find tips, ideas and whatever else you need! — I honestly just want a reason to test out Tumblr’s group chat thing, but if you ever need any help with fics, essays or just writing in general, feel free to join the group chat and connect with other writers! If anyone is interested and wants to get into/improve in writing, I can figure out a way to host some small lessons or something? I am certainly not a professional, but I’m always down to help! 

There’s a couple other little things, but I believe I hit the brunt of everything. As I said before, you have every right to dislike or be upset by these changes, but please, please, please do not act out in a hateful or resentful manner. This blog acts as a safe, positive place for everyone and I will not tolerate those who seek to take that away. 

Thank you for understanding, 

-Kitty💕

[wrightiverse]

Chrysanthemums

When he was drunk and maudlin, Bill Close had a phrase he used to explain why he’d never become a star: timing is everything. If he hadn’t done a certain audition right before lunch, when people were hungry and distracted. If he’d been playing the night the agent was in the bar, instead of at home babysitting. If he’d been five minutes earlier here, two hours later there, a few seconds in either direction, he’d have the life he was actually supposed to have. Bad timing. Good timing. Didn’t quite pull off the timing. Timing is everything. Glenn buys all that as a kid, but he eventually realizes that Bill only had it half right. It’s not just the bad stuff that comes down to being in the right place at the right moment. Sometimes, everything aligns to give you much more than you deserve. (Posted this on AO3 originally but we’re all in sad Close boys hours this week anyway so I may as well bring it over here. Full version below cut has references to a car accident, pregnancy, and a certain canonical death that I’m sure you can guess. It was also written before we realized that Wrightiverse Nick was trans but fuck it, why go back and have Glenn and Morgan misgender baby Nick when I don’t have to. Nick is much younger when Morgan passes in this than in the show’s canon now but canon is optional, free your mind.) 

When he was drunk and maudlin, Bill Close had a phrase he used to explain why he’d never become a star: timing is everything. If he hadn’t done a certain audition right before lunch, when people were hungry and distracted. If he’d been playing the night the agent was in the bar, instead of at home babysitting. If he’d been five minutes earlier here, two hours later there, a few seconds in either direction, he’d have the life he was actually supposed to have. Bad timing. Good timing. Didn’t quite pull off the timing. Timing is everything. Glenn buys all that as a kid, but he eventually realizes that Bill only had it half right. It’s not just the bad stuff that comes down to being in the right place at the right moment. Sometimes, everything aligns to give you much more than you deserve. *** It’s not exactly a fairytale love story. They literally meet in a dumpster.

It’s been most of a year since he told his parents to go shove their advice and their money up their respective asses, three months since the semester ended and he lost access to the dorm room and meal plan, a week since he ran out of cash, and at least 24 hours since he ate anything. Couch-surfing is keeping a roof over his head, and his friends are generous with food and booze and weed when they have any to spare, but that only goes so far. One year of college courses under his belt, no idea how to make a resume, no work history even if he did, no permanent address. The job offers aren’t exactly flooding in.

But to hell with it, Glenn Close isn’t gonna just lay down and die. He’s already cased a bakery a few blocks away and he knows they usually throw out the stuff too stale to sell around 11 p.m. He’d hoped not to have to use that info, but whatever. Someday this will make a great anecdote for his episode of Behind The Music.

Glenn hovers across the street until he sees a silhouetted figure toss a bag into the dumpster in the alley, then casually strolls over once the figure goes back inside. The sides of the dumpster are taller and have fewer handholds than he’d pictured, but he drags over some pallets and manages to climb in. It’s half empty and the bag has landed right on top, safe from the nasty trash juices that are soaking the cuffs of his jeans.

The first thing he sees when he tears the bag open is a plain bagel, and the first bite he takes is so good that he almost passes out. He’s so busy wolfing it down that he doesn’t notice the approaching steps from outside until another bag of trash flies over the top of the dumpster and bounces off his head.  

“Watch it,” he says reflexively. Then he freezes, not even chewing as he strains to listen for movement outside. Nothing. Maybe they just tossed the bag and walked back inside. He might get away with this.

“Yo, Templeton,” a voice says from outside the dumpster. “You gonna quit pretending you’re not in there, or should I close the lid?”

Glenn considers his options for a moment, but now that he comes to think of it… “Yeah, I’m realizing I don’t have anything to stand on in here. Little help?”

That’s the first time he hears her laugh. Even knowing he was the butt of the joke, he wants to hear it again. He gets his chance seconds later, when her head pops above the wall of the dumpster.

“Would you look at that? Somebody threw away a perfectly good dumbass.” Then that laugh rings out for the second time

Even his innate panache can’t overcome being hungry, chest-high in trash bags, and covered with flour. He’s humbled, and she’s amused, and that somehow turns into a connection that surprises both of them with how deep it gets and how fast.

If Glenn meets her at any other moment than that, he blows it by trying to be cool and charming. He lucked out. It’s perfect timing.

Morgan’s too good for him on any level you can name. Too cool for him, too smart, too tough, too beautiful. A better musician than him, both with the actual music and the business side. She’s the one who teaches him how to scrounge and hustle, how to read a contract’s fine print and argue with a booking agent who doesn’t want to pay up. Sometimes it feels like every other living soul on earth is elbow-to-elbow with them, fighting for the same scraps that they are, but it’s clear that Morgan’s the one in a million who’s going to make it. And he’s along for the ride, feeling like the luckiest son of a bitch alive every single damn day.    ***

***

Seven years hearing her laugh every day. Seven years getting to be the one who makes her laugh, sometimes even on purpose.

“I think we should get married,” he says one day, and she laughs in his face.

“You still think it’s more legit if the government knows about it, huh?” But she softens, because she knows what he’s actually trying to say, because of course she does. “I get it, baby. This is the real deal. In sickness and health, for better or for worse, and so forth. I’m not signing any paperwork, but you know we throw a good party. Let’s just do the fun parts. You down?”

It’s a very good party, and afterward she calls him “my husband” and they make plans to get rings. Later, if she’s tipsy and feels like teasing him, she calls him “my first husband,” and she laughs. Then she squeezes his face in her hands and gives him a kiss to make sure he understands that she’s only joking. He always knows she’s joking. He always lets her kiss him anyway.

***

Morgan spends a few days thinking she’s got food poisoning before realizing a stowaway has outwitted their precautions. Glenn’s always counted that as very good timing by Nicholas -  if that tricky little bastard shows up any earlier than he does, there’s no way Glenn even considers becoming a parent. But once they decide to go for it, it’s more fun than they’d have ever imagined. They build a lot of castles in the air together while they’re waiting to meet Nick. Glenn says he wants enough kids for a Partridge Family style band, and Morgan agrees as long as nobody plays the tambourine.

They discuss it endlessly, but finally decide a percussionist is the first priority. The closer the due date gets, the more it seems like their new bandmate agrees. Morgan grabs Glenn’s hand and puts it on her belly so he can feel the urgent kicks. “Check out this sick drum solo.”

Nick inherits his parents’ knack for knowing how to make an entrance. He’s so fashionably late that Morgan decides they should just party without him. It’s like ditching the friend who’s taking too long to get ready, except for the part where they can’t actually leave him behind. She and Glenn hit up their favorite venue that very night. The music thumps through their bodies like a pulse. The energy of the crowd makes them forget how long they’ve been waiting. And if anybody has any concerns about seeing a ridiculously pregnant woman dancing her heart out until her hair sticks to her face with sweat, they’re smart enough to keep their mouths shut.

Fear of missing out is apparently hardwired, and Nick graciously deigns to join them a few days later. Everything changes. Three a.m. feels a lot different when you know you’ll be awake again at 4:30, and 5, and probably 7, and maybe 8 for good measure, and…

“This new guy can’t hang,” Morgan mutters. She’s standing beside the bed, Nick tucked against her shoulder, patting his back and swaying. Glenn’s sitting up in bed, trying to stay awake out of solidarity, losing the battle.

“New guy is a lightweight,” he says. “And he’s pretty nasty. That dude does not know what a toilet is for.”

“Come on, man, get it together,” Morgan says softly to the fussing figure in her arms. “We can’t take you anywhere.” Baby Nick finally burps and spits up a little onto Morgan’s shirt. A few additional angry hiccups are all he can manage before he falls asleep.

“Did you hear that?” Morgan murmurs as she lowers him into the crib. “He said he was gonna fight me. Slow your roll, new guy, you aren’t ready for this heat.”

She collapses back onto the bed next to Glenn. “I’m bluffing. He’s kicking my ass.”

“Me too,” Glenn says, “but at least we outnumber him.” ***

***

Not long after Nick’s second birthday, Morgan notices that she’s a couple of days late. It’s not a big deal, it usually doesn’t mean anything. Glenn makes a joke about the Close Family Quartet, and Morgan says she’ll grab a test when she gets groceries that weekend. But whether their lead guitarist was about to debut or still waiting in the wings, she made an amateur mistake and left things a little too late. The band broke up first. That’s show business for you.

People always want to know what happened. Glenn never gets into details. They must make up their own pictures in their head: a rain-slick curve taken too fast, a semi truck jack-knifing across the highway. It makes more sense for something like that to happen when you already know you’re in danger.

It’s the middle of the day. He’s going maybe five over the speed limit, keeping pace with traffic. He’s not high or drunk or tired or even distracted. They’re just in the wrong place at the wrong time. A dog runs into the road, someone swerves to miss it, someone else tries to get out of their way. Barely a fender-bender, except that their car gets just enough of a push to end up in the intersection.

Early on, he thinks a lot about how a few seconds here and there could change things.

The dog runs into the street a little later, and then the oncoming traffic isn't trying to beat a yellow light.

The dog runs into the street a little earlier, and they drive home with a scraped bumper.

But that’s Bill’s half-assed way of thinking about it, and Glenn knows better. It’s true, it could have been different. It could have been much worse.

He drives a split second slower, and the other car meets theirs with a direct hit, crumpling the back seat as well as the front with far more force than Nick’s booster seat can deflect.

He drives a split second faster, and the clipped bumper spins them into the next lane, and he never makes it to the hospital at all, and Nick doesn’t have anybody left.

Glenn knows now what his dad was talking about in those grumbling laments. It’s like trying to put together two tracks that are just slightly out of sync. Where do you snip out a piece to make things fit right again? What if you’re already balanced on that tipping point with the fewest misfortunes and the most lucky breaks? What happens if you start messing with that?

He can’t second-guess. It happened the way it happened, and he’s still here, and Nick’s still here, so he still has a job to do. He’s going to be there for Nick the whole way, along for the ride, feeling like the luckiest son of a bitch alive because he gets to be here at all. It could have gone another way. Timing is everything.