#I'm pretty sure this has actually happened too

[parfaitblogs]

hard times ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid doesn’t follow through one time, and you really hate that he has a psychology degree.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: daddy issues. shoutout to the girls with inconsistent fathers this ones for you. established relationship. readers mentioned wearing makeup, a dress and heels. rational bf!spencer reid fuck i would hate a profiler bf. word count: 1.8k a/n: not a trauma dump fic not a vent fic do not read into this fic at all don't even start to speculate on my life and where these emotions came from they're all fake made up not real make pretend. no photos no aesthetics just me, a tumblr account, and a dream for this baddie.

In all your months of dating Spencer Reid, he had never forgotten anything. Not a date, not a work event. Or, at least, he's never forgotten to call. Even when you had been so busy one week you could barely spare him more than a ten minute phone call a day, he remembered what was going on in your life enough to be there for you. 

A false blanket of security draped over your relationship, is what it is now. 

A blanket he seemingly had no trouble ripping off you a random Friday evening, throwing it in a fire and watching it — and your trust in him — burn into dust. 

Perhaps a tad dramatic for what was happening, but you were always one for theatrics when it came to your emotions. Usually, he welcomed it. He was (abashedly) similar, after all.

Not that he was even here to welcome it. 

You'd looked pretty. You'd felt pretty. Past tense, for your shoes were strewn somewhere across the floor after throwing them in frustration, and your makeup was ruined after unwelcome tears had streamed down your face an hour ago. You had been ready for a dinner date you and Spencer had scheduled in only three days ago — penciled in, for you never knew what his work schedule was going to end up being.

You're not sure how long you sat in that one spot on the couch, mind going through every single possible scenario that could've happened between the text he sent you that morning saying he was excited to go out tonight, and the lack of his appearance this evening. 

The logical conclusion is that he got too busy, and he forgot. But Spencer Reid's whole thing is that he doesn't forget. Oftentimes he considers it a curse. You never really agreed with him. Until now, it seemed. 

The less than logical, emotionally driven conclusion, is that he actively chose to stay at work to avoid coming home because he didn't want to see you. Or he didn't actually want to go to dinner, and he didn't know how to tell you. Or his team offered to go out and he'd rather hang out with them instead of you. 

Really, the reasons are endless, and any rational conclusion was lost on you. Mind swallowing you whole as you continued to stare off into space, visibly shaking and head beginning to pound from the crying.

A glance at the clock told you it was near midnight by the time you heard the door handle rattle and twist open, tired, puffy eyes blinking to adjust to the light filtering in from the apartment hallway. 

"Hey. Why're you out here? It's late. I thought you'd already be in bed," Spencer rambles absentmindedly, voice so disconnected from you it only made the ache in your chest worse. As he flicks the light on and assesses the state of the apartment, he asks, "What're your shoes doing on the floor?"

You blink a few times. Was he pretending to be dumb on purpose? 

You stand on cramped legs, stretching them for the first time since you'd sat unknowingly on the couch nearly six hours ago, dress bunching around your waist. You didn't bother to fix it. 

Like a switch, he clicks, his bag sliding off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a thud, realisation settling into his features. 

"Our date. Oh, God, I'm so sorry, angel."

"Yeah. I'm sure," you croak, voice hoarse as you pick up your shoes pathetically in front of him, the heels clacking together as you walk towards your bedroom door. 

He calls your name, and after you make no effort to return to him, you hear his feet against the wooden flooring, carrying himself to you.

You're in the ensuite, beginning to take makeup off you probably should've removed four hours ago. It was stupid hope you held on to, anyways. 

"You're upset. I know. It was awful of me to forget our date," he stands in the doorway, staring at you through the mirror. Even indirectly, you can't make eye contact with him. 

"You forgot," you repeat back to him, almost dumbfounded. "You forgot?"

"Forgot isn't... the best word," his fingers dig into his eyes for a split second, and you watch him think. "I got caught up at work. We had a case, then we didn't have a case, then we did, so we started looking into it, and time just... escaped. From all of us."

"Time just escaped."

Your parroting wasn't doing much to further the conversation, and you watch as Spencer averts his gaze to the floor to take a deep breath, before his eyes land back on you again.

"It isn't the best reason, I know. But it's the truth," he says. 

"Uh-huh," you mumble, discarding your cotton pads stained with your makeup into the trash. 

"Can you stop being evasive?" he catches your wrist before you can return to the sink. "Talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?" you ask, almost earnestly. "It's okay that you forgot, Spencer. I won't take it personally at all, and things between us are just dandy!"

"I want to know what you're actually feeling," he replies, voice flat with his irritation, before he forces himself to soften it. "I can't reassure you if all I know is that you're angry."

"Hurt. Forgotten. Disregarded. Disliked. Irritated we're doing this in our fucking bathroom."

At that, he leads you into the bedroom, turning the ensuite light off. "Forgotten and disregarded are synonyms, so I'm assuming that's what you feel the most."

"You're the psyche expert," you mumble, bitterly.

"I'm not trying to be your psyche expert," he quips, and your heart sinks. "Why're you feeling forgotten?"

You stare at him, dumbfounded, for a beat. "Because my boyfriend quite literally forgot about me?"

"I didn't forget about you—"

"—No, you're right. You just forgot about the date that you literally fucking texted me about this morning!" you snap, voice rising in a way that makes you cringe. Yet, you can't stop it. "You! Spencer Reid! Forgot!"

"Don't yell at me, please," he takes a step towards you; you take a step back. 

"Why did you forget? Did you choose to? Are you pretending that you forgot about it all to save your ass?"

"No," he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I didn't. I told you what happened. You're choosing not to believe me."

"How am I meant to believe that? It's a shit excuse—"

"—It's the truth—"

"—God, you can lie, Spencer! Men lie!" 

He goes silent, as do you. You become trapped in an uncomfortably intense staring contest with him, as you watch his brain slowly tick over and decipher what you were saying, and come up with a response. Yours, however, splits open with your own self hatred. Disdain for what you had just said to him.

"Okay," he exhales, very slowly. "I'm going to tell you what I think, and you can tell me how right I am."

"You're going to profile me?"

He pauses. "I'm sure it'll come off that way. I'm not trying to," when you don't protest again, he continues. "I think you're less upset about the fact that I didn't come home for a date, and more about the fact that I didn't message you about it. I've not shown up for dates before. I've always contacted you prior to let you know. And I've promised I would always contact you if something came up that interfered with our plans. Ultimately, I said I would do something, and I didn't follow through. That is on me, and I'm sorry. What isn't on me, is how you're reacting. Which is childish, honey. You're acting like a petulant child, and I don't mean that as an insult, because I'm almost certain I know why."

Your silence is his cue to continue, but he pauses to collect his thoughts. Your lower lip is beginning to wobble, and he feels awful.

"You know how our childhoods affect us," he says, and the second what he's about to say to you clicks in your brain, your teeth clamp over your lip, and your eyes drop to the ground. "Reactions from parents to things we do, things others do, things they do, all builds up in our subconscious. Having a parent who didn't show up for you time and time again, built up in your subconscious. So yes, you're reacting to me not following through with something childishly. I will not take that back. But that reaction is not your fault. It's in response to a trigger, and the person in control of that emotional response is not adult you. It's the little girl who got let down by her father. I won't ever hold that against you."

Your sniffle breaks the deafening silence that follows his tangent. You allow him to envelop you into a hug, at which you break down into a fit of sobs akin to the ones from earlier. 

"I hate you," you stutter out in between sobs, voice muffled by his chest. 

"You can't say that while hugging me," he counters. It was true, as your hands had wrapped around his waist just seconds ago.

"I hate you," you repeat, punctuating your words with a poke to his back. 

"I love you," he replies, instead. His fingers thread through your hair as he cradles your head with his other hand. "I'm sorry I didn't contact you about being busy."

You swallow the lodged sob in your throat with a hiccup. "I'm sorry I acted like a petulant child. And I'm sorry that my dad sucks."

"I'm sorry your dad sucks too," you feel him kiss the top of your head. "Have you eaten?"

"Mm-mm," you shake your head, and he pulls back, hands slipping down to your cheeks, catching the tears. 

"Do you want to eat?"

"The restaurant we were going to is closed," you mumble.

"Maybe. But the Thai place isn't."

"I'm pretty sure it is," you counter, and his eyebrows furrow. "It's past midnight now."

His face falls, he waits a beat, before his hand drops to your own, and he's tugging you towards the door of the bedroom. "Okay. Fine. Well, the Spencer Reid Kitchen is never closed."

"I asked for pasta last night and you said the kitchen was closed."

"You asked at three in the morning," he deadpans, as you make yourself comfortable on one of the stools. 

"The Spencer Reid Kitchen is never closed," you mock his voice from earlier.

"The Spencer Reid Kitchen rules are made by Spencer Reid."

"The rules should be lenient of Spencer Reid's girlfriend."

"Do you want pasta or not?"

"Yes," you quickly say with a firm nod. "Sorry."

He spends the first hour of that Saturday making you pasta; and making up the missed date.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Maybe Simon Riley and famous reader?? Like the reader is a singer and dedicates a song to him and we get to see a sort of soft and proud side of him?

I had to actually go through my playlist to find the right vibe for this. Such a sweet request 🥹

Song on repeat while I wrote this is "Just the two of us" by Bill Withers and Grover Washington, Jr. Cover version by The Macarons Project. Listen to the gorgeous cover here

Pairing: Simon x famous!reader

pov: Simon's

Title: To my Love.

"Okay, Manchester, it's almost time for me to close out for the night!" Her voice rings out above the cheering of the stadium. People are chanting encore and begging for another song. She laughs into the microphone, "I love you all, but I most certainly promised someone that I would try and wrap up on time."

There's a shout from somewhere closer to the stage for just one more song, please. She relents with a soft laugh, "Fine, but I'm thinking a new song for the city that has my heart."

There's more cheering and backstage, Simon tilts his head to the side because he understands the double meaning. His girl is always saying in interviews and on hot mics that her heart is in Manchester, England. She's not even from here, and when people ask about her own hometown, her smiles turn shy and sweet. She never says what or who she means, choosing to keep their relationship private. It's for her safety and his peace at mind.

Sure, he doesn't do the award shows, the public facing red carpets, and he blends in as one of her body guards; but her inner circle knows who he is and sees the two of them behind closed doors. He's a little shocked at the mention of a new song. He knows every lyric that gets written down in the little song book he got for her.

She looks off stage towards him and bless the smile she gives him. It makes his stomach flip and flop, and he knows that he is smiling like a love struck fool. The corners of his eyes crinkle, and the surgical mask on his face shifts, a clear indication that he is smiling back. This woman makes him feel things he hasn't in years. She kisses his scars, holds his hand with a grin, and every time she says his name, it's like hearing an angel whisper to him. He's not a praying man, does not believe in God or karma, he's lived too bloody a life for those thoughts, so finding someone to love him was never a possibility.

Yet here she is getting ready to debut a new song that she just told him was written with only him in mind. No other hands have touched this song, and it was written for him, and she's singing it as a public declaration of her love for him. The sentiment makes him ache in the best ways, turns him into puddy.

"What is that girl doing?" Her manager hisses, "did we approve of this?" She's fussing with a stage hand demanding to know what track is about to be played. The DJ cues up the music. It's a sweet swell of music. Light on the ears, there's no producer tag, no booming base, or 808s. The flip from high energy to sweet melodies instantly calms the crowd to silence.

Yeah, this wasn't planned. It's in the same vein as their relationship, unplanned and sweet. Simon didn't mean to fall in love with her. It sorta just happened. What was supposed to be a favor for a friend of John's, just the team providing extra security for some starlet, turned into a miracle.

She sings about him, sweetly. A true love song. She sings about loving someone at their best. She sings about loving the ugliest parts of someone. She belts her heart out on the bridge, words about finding true love and knowing that it won't always be easy. Her voice cracks, warbling on lines about broken people and loving them and slowly putting them together again, pretty gold holding the pieces together.

By the time the song is over, the longest and shortest four minutes in his life. And to think, someone wrote about how they loved loving him for four minutes, him of all people, he's got tears in his eyes. His body is moving before he can process it. There are people calling for him to stay backstage. He thinks he hears one of his teammates, and he doesn't know or care. All Simon Riley can see is his girl, his song bird, the mask is off and he's pulling her into a kiss.

There's distant cheering he is sure of that. The audience probably thinks that this is staged. It's not. Her manager will probably try to spin some silly narrative to the press and all of her fans. Whoever is on lights earns their paycheck because every light except the spotlight on them goes out.

And then slowly even that light fades, too, to the sound of thunderous applause.

ngl...I'm crying. Thank you anon.

[bunabi]

Thank you for saying that people have a right to mourn Veilguard. I've seen a lot of vitriol directed at those who were disappointed with the game. That we're entitled, media illiterate, or blinded by nostalgia. And while I definitely think some go overboard with their criticism, I think the people who don't want to admit the game has massive flaws are actually doing a lot more harm.

We all know how terribly EA has treated their employees. That's why so many people have left, not because they don't care about Dragon Age anymore, but because the working conditions were (apparently) unbearable. And like you said, even the devs are mourning what the game could have been! That's why I think it's a good thing that there's been a lot of public criticism of the game. This behavior by EA (and other studios too!) should not be rewarded.

To be real? I don't think EA is the boogeyman its made out to be.

Not to take a bullet for Aussie Daddy Andrew Wilson but everything I've heard (professors, peers, Bioware itself in a handful of interviews) confirms that they're actually pretty hands-off. Administrative level orders like company-wide layoffs or approving/denying funding, yeah. Creative decisions during development and overall studio management maybe not as much.

This user is an EA Partner etc etc full disclosure but I think the truth is honestly complicated. Not saying all publishers are precious and blameless and can do no wrong, but I think there's more to it. We'll learn more about what exactly happened eventually, I'm sure. Kinda dreading it. 😭

Me personally I think they were struggling to get Joplin greenlit. Especially since early concepts don't mention any multiplayer plans (dunno how successful DAI's was but it was a neat selling point and made a little extra money I'm sure). By late 2015 DA4 was still unconfirmed, even if they started brainstorming ideas as early as Trespasser, even after their Game of The Year win with Inquisition. And in early 2016 they showed what looked like a pitch doc with a rook and wolf icon on it. So maybe instead of letting DA get shelved for god knows how many years someone offered it as a live service to sweeten the deal and get the go-ahead. My thoughts, I just paint, I'm bald, etc.

[startheskelaton]

I'm not sure how Nightflyer and Soundblsster met Sparkplug, but I guess they met her at Earth.

So I'll do my interpretation of how Nightflyer and Soundblaster got on Earth.

Nightflyer was at the palace as usual, going to his berth after he finishes all work for the day he overhears from his sire's chambers about space bridge and how it can take someone to a different planet.

Interested, he begs and pleades Soundblaster to help him try the space bridge, which Soundblaster soon agrees with, using this as an opportunity to get rid of Nightflyer.

So they sneak out and go to the room where the space bridge is kept, and they eventually find it after a few miss ups at which room is it and knocking a few guards or less.

They tried using the space bridge, but it went wrong, and they both ended on the same planet called Earth. They ended up in different places, Nightflyer ended up in the same forest where Optimus first arrived and met Spike, and he's amazed by Earth's beauty while Soundblaster ended up in near fancy human city as he wondered where the living FRAG he ended up.

And that's pretty much it. You can tell me how they actually ended up

Also, I think Nightflyer and Soundblaster would love Earth and its culture.

Nightflyer like Optimus from idw comic and maaaaaaaybe Repunzel from Tangled would fall in love with Earth's beauty and its creatures and plants since he never saw that back Cybertron where everything's metal. To his, this would be a dream come true since, like you said, he's into mutants and plants.

Soundblaster wouldn't like it at first, but then he sees humanity's arts, creativity, literature, museums, and many more humanity has to offer. Like Nightflyer, this would be a dream come true to him, too, since he's into art and literature.

.

.

Bonus: Back on Cybertron, Starscream and Shockwave panicking where the living Primus where their sons went and screaming at anyone while Slipscream tries to eat her energon cereal.

Anyway i really love your ocs and I wish to know more about them. I really love how you have progressed the story so far. I love it.

Actually the real answer is a good bit different, however I love the story you made, It was vary fun to read!

This is how it really went down.

Shockwave chose Nightflyer in particular to be the one to go to earth undercover, he did this because he knew that Night was so loyal to his family, that he wouldn't change sides if need be (this would be proven right later). Nightflyer was absolutely mortified when he was told that he needed to go to earth, not because he didn't like earth, but because he would have to go alone to make the plan look believable. Also he would have to purposefully crash his ship on the planet... but the alone thing was more of priority for him.

He dose make it to earth and makes the ship crash, making it look like he desperately trying to escape from Cybertron. He would be found and taken to the Autobot base (after checking him for tracking devices) where he would be questioned and checked to see if his arrival would bring more enemies to the planet. He was kinda blacked out for a while (because of the crash) when he was sent to Ratchet's med bay to undergo an emergency check up. And who just happened to be the reluctant medical assistant on hand? Sparkplug. She really had to fight her dad in order to stay and help with the exam (she really wanted to be part of something exciting, and a random hot guy falling from space was definitely exciting).

They properly met during tryouts for being put on a mission team. Nightflyer passed well (however he needed to hide his full potential as to not tip off that he was part of the Cybertonian guard). Sparkplug on the other hand passed with shockingly flying colors for a bot her size, however was immediately turned away by Megatron (this is because Sparkplug has been training most of her life to be qualified for off base missions, however is shot down by her dad each time at the qualifying tests. Like her late father, she's not one to take rejection lying down, so she has trained for years and gone to every try out. Much to Megatron's dismay, this has only forced her to get stronger then she would have been if he had passed her earlier).

At first Sparkplug is kinda spiteful against Night simply because he was able to go on missions despite being so new to the autobots, however something makes her look at him differently... she notices he's lying. She has no idea what about but she can feel it, something about his story is too perfect, he's moving up the ranks too quickly and cold outer shell doesn't fit with someone who wanted to break away from his original faction. So when she finds him in the library one night, she corners him, and he breaks... but not fully. He reveals his true personality to her, but not his mission. He is vary genuin about how he feels trapped by having to mask all the time, that no one would take his seriously if he was himself, and how he genuinely felt oppressed by the "the strong rule the weak" mentality of the Decepticons. In return, Sparkplug opens up about her strange existence and confusing expectations people have for her. That she needs to be a replacement but not a copy, to have prime's kindness but none of Megatron's anger, love herself for being special but listen to everyone talk about how freaky her existence is. And after that night... Sparks start to fly between the two.

Soundblaster met Sparkplug in the middle of space.

Eventually the time comes and the seekers (slipstream and company) show up on earth and it's revealed that Nightflyer was a spy the whole time. And a dangerous one at that, actually able to go up against a good amount of the autoboots. This breaks Sparkplug's heart because she talked to Nightflyer a LOT, she had no idea if any of that was real or not. It didn't help his case when he immediately sided with his sister, going back to being a deception due to his loyalty to his family.

However during this shit show, who arrives but the DJD, taking advantage to the situation to try and take Sparkplug in order to make her a new Megatron. Seeking a chance to be praised by Shockwave, Soundblaster is able to grab Sparkplug admits the chaos (capturing the last remints of Optimus prime would be extremely useful in manipulating the public or just making a super weapon) . However due to a mix of Skywarp's powers fucking up along with Slipstream's (she has the same power's as Skywarp), Soundblaster and Sparkplug are warped halfway across the universe. This now forces our characters to try and find Spark before anyone else can.

When coming to, Sparkplug is absolutely livid at Soundblaster and immediately attacks him. But due to the situation, they reluctantly come to an agrement, get somewhere where they can get back to Cybertron or earth, then fight about it then. This forces the two to work with one another to try and make it to intergalactic space station without dying. During this time, Sound only communicates through mores code, never speaking once. However him and Sparkplug have a good amount of conversations, slowly opening up to one another. They really hit it off when Sparkplug is able to relate to Soundblaster, but admit that he defiantly had it worse then her (nightflyer on the other hand saw himself and Soundblaster as equally out cased despite the huge power discrepancy). She's able to see him for who he is, what he was supposed to be, and who he wants to be... and this makes Soundblaster throw away his loyalty to the decepticons and decide to be loyal to Sparkplug herself.

OH MY GOD this was a long post, I could go on but I need to stop myself before this becomes an essay.

[peerless-minty-cucumber]

SVSSS Liu Qingge is an ace icon in a porn logic plot. In this essay I will…

Okay so, I want to preface this with some clarifications. I'm going to assume most of yall know a baseline definition of asexuality as "when you don't experience sexual attraction." Without getting too into the nuance here, take note of the following:

Being asexual does not mean you hate sex. Some asexuals like sex. Some asexuals have sex.

Asexuals can get crushes and fall in love

Being asexual doesn't mean you have sexual trauma or are a prude or w/e

Also:

I am asexual and I think by online discourse logic that means I'm right about everything I say in this essay.

You're free to respectfully disagree honestly I'd love to hear other takes on this.

This headcanon contains a lot of projection. You've been warned.

So recently I reblogged this post that joked something along the lines of "We still don't know if Liu Qingge knows what sex is." And I thought that was a) hella funny and b) kinda true. Do I think he literally doesn't know what sex is? With that sister?? Yeah no I think he knows. But I imagine he doesn't really understand that sex is just kind of a big deal for most people and expected in typical relationships. I mean, I doubt sexual attraction really often discussed amongst cultivators anyway, so if one doesn't experience it, it a) wouldn't make one too much of an outsider and b) one would just assume this is the universal norm. In my reading of canon, he definitely has a crush on Shen Qingqiu, but I don't think he has the sexual attraction. To the contrary, I imagine that he finds the thought of sexual contact with his crush very unbecoming. Perhaps it even contributes to his dislike of Luo Binghe and the BingQiu relationship. I could even spin this into a whole thing where he could be coping with internalised homophobia because he doesn't want to have sex with men so it's fine, right? We know that in general, Shen Yuan is a pretty unreliable narrator when it comes to observing other characters' reactions. But I did find some of his thoughts about Liu Qingge during the Succubi extra very interesting. For those who don't know/recall - in this extra chapter, SQQ and LQG investigate a Succubus hideout and LQG gets affected by what is essentially an Aphrodisiac. SQQ notes that LQG is visibly distressed, but also shows absolutely no signs of desire to act on it in any way – almost as though he doesn't have experience with sexual desire. He's also clearly uncomfortable and angry with his body's reaction – not an uncommon reaction in (particularily sex-repulsed) asexuals experiencing libido. I really like to imagine an AU where LiuShen happened and they're just cute and cuddling and maybe get in a few kisses and after a few months Shen Qingqiu is like "… So are we gonna fuck or like…?" And LQG would be FLOORED because surely that's not a thing people actually do – right?! That's a thing for forbidden porn ballads and demons! I also like to imagine they actually try it and he ends up kinda liking it and unpacking his baggage but he still doesn't get the attraction.

Yall were seriously starving for this essay so I hope I at least kinda delivered. I felt like I had more to say about this but *gestures* stuff happened and my brain isn't super on top of things rn.

[fan-goddess]

If he’s a ghost, I can be a phantom

Authors Note: So this has taken way too long for me to write. I hit way too many blocks last year so hopefully i won't have the same with this one. I think though I'll be taking a haitus just to clear my head, as i want to take some space while i focus on other things

Word count: 14.2k words

Taglist: @hoosbandewan @humanpurposes @watercolorskyy @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee

Warnings: Heavy sexism, patriarchal views, cheating, angst, sexual tension, does reader come off as i'm not like other girls? kissing, blood, descriptions of bullet wound, talk of one night stands, alcohol, arousal, threats of murder, pervy men (if i miss any which im sure i did let me know so i can add it.)

The mission was not supposed to go like this.

It was supposed to be a quick and easy mission, but you suppose simplicity is not as easy to maintain or even believe to be true, when you’re bleeding with a gunshot wound to your shoulder and at least a litre and a half of blood spilled on a once pristine white carpet.

Tom Bennett is supposedly one of the best of the best. He was recruited when he was still pretty young from the army, and since then, had been trained ruthlessly to know how to shoot and where the places had to be to look like somebody else’s vengeance.

You yourself were similar, but you actually had the smarts going for you rather than the brawn. Soon as you graduated from university with a degree in foreign communications, two men in suits were sitting on your sofa describing what’ll happen and how in very painstakingly detailed ways.

You’d never met Agent Tom Bennett before the mission briefing, but you had certainly heard of him. Son of a pacifist from Manchester, who ironically likes to get into one too many fights that the agency, while not being happy about paying the damages for, does not mention since Bennett does the job needed. What you hear most however from your coworkers, is how he never leaves a mission without a notch in his post, even if it’s from his fellow agent.

So when being told your mission and your partner, your male supervisor gave you a once over and told you to keep your head high and your legs firmly shut. And like the good girl you pretended to be, you just nodded your head so you could work and die someplace better than the dreary country that is mother England.

Even sitting in that briefing room waiting for Agent Bennett to grace you all with his presence you swore you could feel the eyes of every person in that room making bets in their heads whether you’d sleep with him on the mission or not. And by how you analysed everyone watching you, the probability of it being yes was quite frankly staggering.

“Hello hello hello!” A man's voice says, and when you turn to look at the intruder unlike everyone else who simply didn't care enough to turn, you’re met with such a cocky smirk you know exactly who this is.

“And who is this pretty little lady?” Tom says, finally directing his attention to you who just continues to sit there with a blank face.

“It’s Agent to you Agent Bennett.”

“Oh is it now? Well I’m very sorry, agent. I’ll be sure to address you right from now on shan’t I? Though I’m sure with our mission we’ll get on like a house on fire by the end.” Agent Bennett grins, sitting down directly next to you and plopping his arm round your neck. Though to his own amusement only, you immediately shove him off you and move yourself further down the sofa with a huff.

The supervisor overseeing the mission's progress thankfully manages to distract him by beginning the debriefing.

“Agents, we are sending you to France in a few weeks to-“

“Fuck off!” Agent Bennett shouts which even after all your training still manages to make you jump in your seat.

“As I was saying,” The supervisor starts again, glaring hard at Agent Bennett who sulks in his seat like a child on the verge of a tantrum. “You’ll be going to France to infiltrate and retrieve some information from a corrupt politician's estate that he keeps in a hard drive inside of a vault in his office.”

“What’s the security on the estate and vault?” You ask, as Agent Bennett it seems is still acting like a spoiled child after being told he needs to go to France, when already off the top of your head you could list so many other much worse places he could’ve been told he needed to go.

“The usual security protocol. He has security cameras equipped with night vision, guards to patrol the grounds as well as guard dogs trained to attack on site, and sensors in regards to lights, doors and of course the safe, which you two need to get into. We couldn't find anything about it in our extensive research, so you'll both need to use your heads when faced with that later on in the mission.”

“Sounds impossible…” You can’t help but comment.

“Oh come on, love don’t sound so negative!” Bennett grins. You can see him looking at you from the corner of your eye but it appears you’ve already managed to grow tired of his bullshit, so instead you merely look to the supervisor who, like you, appears to be attempting to ignore the guy. “I’m sure we’ll be done before suppers on the table!”

“Sure.” You simply say, rolling your eyes while the supervisor already looks ready to chuck Agent Bennett into the enemies home arse first.

“Now, you two will be our main operatives with the surveillance team being ready to assist whenever they’re needed. It took some work, but we managed to get a good enough alibi to get you both inside as it turns out our politician has a fancy for private masquerade balls.”

As he says this a much younger recruit who looks barely old enough to drink in Europe passes you and Agent Bennett your individual case files, and when you open it to look at your latest identity, you find yourself having to hold in your disgust.

“Mrs Dahlia Carrington?” You can’t help but question out loud, already dreading what Agent Bennett will say.

“Yes wife?” Like clockwork, his annoying voice rings out boiling your blood with every syllable. “As Mr Thomas Carrington, I suppose it is my duty to make sure my beloved is dressed to her best!”

“Never call me that again.”

“Just getting us both into the mood sweetie!”

“Don’t call me that either!” You snap, turning to him with a clenched fist that you oh so desperately want to damage his pretty smirking face with.

“Enough the both of you!” Your supervisor begs, glaring at you and Agent Bennett and making you feel like a child being lectured by their parents. “Agent Bennett, I for one can say have had enough with your playboy nature and how it constantly affects your missions. Will you behave this time, or will I need to prepare another incident report for your arrival with an extra year or two suspended field training?”

And like a child who’s been lectured by a parents, Agent Bennett pouts with a furrowed expression.

“No sir…”

“Good. Now learn your documents and meet with your team. They have the necessary equipment you’ll be needing to get familiar with. Formal wear included.”

You take the supervisor's ending nod as your dismissal and take the file in your hand as you leave. You do not dare look at Agent Bennett, especially as he begins to moan again only this time because he’s been told he has to wear a suit and tie, yet still you manage to get the feeling of goosebumps erupting on your back as you swear you feel his gaze roam your behind.

You cannot be bothered to snap at the man again, so you just sigh loudly to let him know of your annoyance at his actions, and his deep chuckle rings through your mind as you walk away.

As you sit on the stool waiting for your outfit to arrive for you to try it on, you read the file carefully making sure to try and memorise every word possible.

The man whose house you are to sneak into, with help of Agent Bennett as the supervisor had spoken in the debriefing, is a pure French blooded politician whose work slowly turned more and more poisoned against the good of the people. Most recently, he’s gotten access to certain information that could bring about war if placed into the hands of the wrong people, and like the idiot he is, he’s kept it on his computer in his estate.

So what you and Agent Bennett are simply assigned to do, is act like you’re both members of high society to get inside the politician's home and retrieve the information stored most likely on his laptop.

It seems very simple. But then again, all the files of Agent Bennett's other missions seemed simple too, and most of them ended up in millions of pounds in property damage and at least a couple hundred dead bodies needing an explanation only the government could provide.

“Here we are my dear!” The stylist says as he walks through the door with your dress in his hand.

Before you had been given access to missions and was stuck on desk duty, you had never realised that being an agent stylist was an actual job offered here at headquarters. But now that you’ve been upgraded and done a good amount of missions you definitely see why it’s necessary, especially since the bulletproof vest has certainly saved your skin once or twice.

“Oh Stan, it's gorgeous!” You gush as he hangs it on the rack and steps back to allow you to see it in its full glory.

The dress's colour is mainly a deep blue, similar to that of a sapphire, but in the middle where the deep blue fabric separates the fabric is a much lighter shade that you can only describe as being like the cornflowers you see in the fields. The dresses shoulder cuffs are short with a barely noticeable belt keeping the dress firmly fitted. The same sapphire shade continues down the dress till the very end, which happens to be just around your ankles which is the just the way you like your dresses to be.

Overall, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

“I’m glad you think so.” Stan smiles, stepping back towards the dress so he can show you the extra special details not seen by the public. “Now the fabric this is made out of is bullet resistant thread. It’ll stop the bullet going in you, but it’s not perfect. If you’re under fire and hit one too many times it’ll rip and you’ll get shot. Understand?”

“Understood.”

“Good. The dress is tailored for your preference, as I remember you saying you didn’t like too long dresses. Also, it’s not too short so it shows the knife or pistol that you will no doubt have strapped to your thigh. Other than those two things the dress is pretty explanatory and simple. Still, anything you wanna ask about?”

“Why blue?” You can’t help but ask. Usually you’d be asking all about the dynamics and the science behind it. But right now, you can’t help but feel curious when looking at the colour of the dress that you rarely ever see on your other wardrobe items.

“Cause Agent Bennett said it’d bring out your eyes.” Stan simply says, full on cackling with amusement when he sees your face melt into an untimely scowl.

On the day before the mission, the supervisor claimed that to get into a better mindset for the roles you and Agent Bennett needed to play, you both needed to spend a night in a nearby hotel.

Though you should’ve known that bastard was up for something when he smiled whilst he said this, as after speaking to the female receptionist, who seemed all too eager in your opinion in eyeing up your pretend husband, and heading to the room, you discover only one bed. And what’s worse, if it somehow could’ve been, is that it was covered in rose petals.

The supervisor had booked the two of you a honeymoon suit.

It was like he was enticing Agent Bennett to attempt to sleep with you, not that you’d ever let him get near enough though of course.

“Well could’ve been worse I s’pose!” Agent Bennett sniffs as he walks around the room. He opens every cabinet, leaves every door open, chucks his bags and other belongings on the bed until eventually his unique bout of chaos settles and he’s sitting on a sofa chair by the open window with an open bag of peanuts in one hand, a bottle of soda in another, and an old fashioned movie playing in the background.

“What?” He muffles with his mouth full. “If the agency is paying for it all, which I know they are, better make the most of it Mrs!”

“Don’t call me that.” You simply say, refusing to admit he’s actually correct for once in his statement. Instead you just take the time to organise your suitcase and your belongings so everything is where it should be and in a discreet place in case housekeeping decides to visit while you’re away.

This evening, you and your pretend husband were going to go, or rather are being ordered to go, downstairs for dinner to further push this idea that the two of you were just a regular married couple.

So about an hour before the dinner reservation in the hotels restaurant while Agent Bennett was too busy trying to find a channel on the hotels tv that wasn't all in bloody French, you slipped into the bathroom to attempt to slip yourself in a dress suitable enough for an evening meal, but not too revealing as to look like you're trying to be invited to work undercover in the red light district.

You stare at the five differently styled dresses you narrowed your two suitcases to, and can't help but sigh to yourself. How on earth have you managed to get yourself in this particular situation?

"Oi! You gonna be any longer missus? Think I'm gonna piss myself here with how long you've been on the loo for!"

"Piss off the balcony for all I care, I'm changing!" You yell back, not looking away from the line of dresses hung up on the shower curtain line.

"Touchy touchy... well if ya want I could always come in and-"

"Over my dead body!" This time, you sharply turn to the door and glare as you picture Agent Bennett on the other side with his smug smirk and his crossed arms that manage to somehow make his biceps bigger than what they were. Ugh it makes you sick in the stomach just thinking about them.

"For god's sake love open the door and I'll choose the god damn dress so you can quit fussing and I can quit trying not to piss myself over the carpet! I don't wanna barge in cause you're a lady and all that but i'm a desperate man over here!" He says, and you can't help but giggle for a moment as you imagine him hopping about with crossed legs and his arms crossed over his bladder. Still, with a straight face you unlock and open the bathroom door and stand aside as to your amusement, Agent Bennett just as you imagined, shuffles into the room with his legs fused together.

"The red one." He simply says, barely managing to get a look at them all before deciding on one you suspect at random.

"But it's got that massive slit down the side that shows my knee. I want to be formal, not like I'm looking for a good time."

"So go with the yellow." He quickly fires, definitely making eyes at the toilet.

"Washes me out like Edward Cullen."

"He an ex of yours or something? Green looks charming."

"I'm gonna respectfully choose to ignore that statement and accept your apology. Besides, I don't have the shoes to go with it."

"Choose the black one or I'm pissing with or without you in the room. And a word of warning, I think a number two may be coming up on the horizon sweetheart."

"You're disgusting." You snap, grabbing all the dresses from the shower curtain rail and swiftly retreating from the room. You can hear Agent Bennett's unique chuckle echo as you begin shutting the door behind you, and you refuse to believe it's why your heart feels like it's beating a million beats a second hard against your rib cage.

You stare in the mirror as you place the black dress in front of yourself in an attempt to see how it looks, and you can't help but think damn. You look fucking hot.

As you walked beside Agent Bennett arm in arm into the restaurant, you swore you could feel somebody's eyes resting on you. Even after the two of you had sat down and ordered some drinks, the back of your neck felt sweltering from the eyes of another.

“It’s cause of the dress.” Your pretend husband insisted as he sipped on some of the red wine. Apparently ordering a plain old lager wasn’t very upper class of him. “Your tits look really good in it.”

“Don’t look at my breasts agent Bennett!” You scowl, moving your arms to shield his and possibly even the other set of eyes from your slightly revealed skin.

“Maybe don’t call me agent Bennett whilst we’re undercover wifey.” He smirks, choosing to blissfully ignore your previous demand.

“Fine! Husband, do not stare at my breasts in public.”

“So you’re fine with me going it in the privacy of our room? Good to know.”

“If we weren’t in public right now I swear I’d-“

“Are you both ready to order some starters?” A voice interrupts you admittedly with a start. When you turn around a relatively young man possibly even younger than yourself stands there in a fancy suit and a small notebook in hand. He’s got a charming smile you suppose, but the eyes tell an entirely different story as you can see him very clearly taking the opportunity to look down the front of your dress.

“I’ll take the dived scallops with charred leak, onion broth and pink purslane.” You snap the starter menu shut loudly which thankfully draws the attention of the waiter from your breasts. He even seems to be bashful as his face turns a light pink and he coughs a few times as he adjusts himself.

“And you sir?” He finally squeezed, turning to Tom who looked at the man unimpressed as if he wasn’t doing practically the same thing not even five minutes ago.

“I’ll take the same as my wife.” Tom emphasizes those last two words firmly while he glares at the poor boy who begins to stutter out an apology towards you.

"I-I'm sorry ma'am! I'll send someone else over to take the rest of your order!" And like that, the lad runs off with his tail between his legs, leaving you with a distinct yet mixed feeling of both shame and gratitude, while Tom begins to chug the rest of his glass of wine and refills the empty glass with a smile like the cat who ate the canary.

Five minutes go by filled only with the background noise of the restaurant's classical music and the conversations of other hotel guests, and finally another person comes over dressed in the same looking suit.

"Hi my name is Henriette and I shall be taking the rest of your order and helping you with any issues you may or may not face for the rest of the evening. I see my colleague has already taken your starters, but could I please have the rest of your intended food order?" Compared to the other guy, this woman certainly acts like she belongs here.

"I'm afraid to say my dear that my husband is very particular with his food order so I will be deciding for him or else we'll both end up going hungry! I shall have for my main the ratatouille, while he'll have the beef carbonnade. For desserts, me and my husband will each have a chocolate ganache cake with the amarena cherries.”

“Perfect choice Madame!” Henriette smiles as she takes the yours and Tom’s menus before nodding her head to you slightly and walking away.

“I’m very particular with my food?”

“Yes. Like a child who refuses to eat their vegetables because they’re green.”

“I would take offence to that if it wasn’t true.” Tom admits, even shrugging his shoulders while you giggle slightly at his action.

The rest of the evening is filled with chatter and smiles that are not as reluctant as you’d like to admit. That stare you felt at the beginning of the night washes away as you concern yourself with Tom and his antics that leave your cheeks aching from how relaxed you've been with him.

The food soon arrives one after another, and each time a plate is placed in front of Tom he gives you a look of untrustworthiness as he raises his fork and moves to take a bite. Yet every time he does this he gives you a look of satisfying defeat which you always respond with a smile.

By the time the desserts arrive, Tom has eaten every bite of the food you chose for him, and you remember that fact distinctively so you could rub it in his face later on.

"So... how's the food been?" You can't help but ask as you savor the way too overpriced little cake that's about the same size as the distance between your thumb and your palm.

"They've been pretty good." He grunts, eyes focused on the cake he doesn't care about the size of, only the rich taste and the thought of how younger he would've killed for this sort of food.

"Pretty good? If we weren't in public I'd think you were about to lick the goddamn plate."

"Not my fault the portions are small as fuck."

"Tom, don't swear in public, it's unbecoming!"

"Jesus what are you my father now? Or my sister?"

"Tom, what are you talking about?" Your brow furrows in confusion at Tom's sudden change in mood. Where was that person who half an hour ago was joking and riling you up with only the topic of your own boobs for gods sake and who is this moody teenager that replaced him?

"Cause I know you're just putting up with me cause you were assigned to me." he begins, but pauses to refill his glass. That's when you realise exactly why his tongue seems to be so loose and why his mood is so well, moody. Tom Bennett has allowed himself to indulge practically at the very start of the mission and is now sitting in front of you pissed as a sea sailor on bloody red wine of all things. "You're probably thinking about how pathetic I am right now! Oh how pathetic is it that top agent Bennett is getting drunk so early!"

"Jesus Christ Tom, can you keep it together!" You attempt to whisper, but ultimately fail as you see everyone is slowly beginning to turn to look at the two of you including the waitress from earlier.

So in an attempt to halt the damage already made, you grab Tom's arm and try to pull him from his chair so you can drag him back to your room and let him sleep this mood swing off. Though that's about as effective as running through water as he just slumps against you and nearly knocks you straight to the floor, training be damned it seems.

"Do you wish for me to help you Madame? I could get someone at the front desk to help?" The familiar voice of Henriette says.

"No thank you I am perfectly capable Henriette. I am used to dragging my husband away when he's gotten into one of his moods. As much as he denies it every time he has never been very good at holding his alcohol no matter the amount of times he does it." You have to force yourself to act calm and like a true high class lady, but anyone with eyes could see how frustrated you were at that moment as you refrained yourself from whacking Tom over the head and teaching him a lesson.

You somehow manage to get Tom out of the dining hall with the stares of every man and woman in that room no doubt judging your sham of a marriage with their eyes and tongues. Just as you're about to leave though, you suddenly remember the bill and almost go straight back leaving Tom in the middle of the corridor whilst you sort it out, but then with a sigh of utmost gratitude you also remember how it'll be charged at the end of your stay.

“Where are you taking me, wife?” He grumbles, feeling you stop him so suddenly he gets the urge to throw up.

“Back to our room husband. Because of you and your inability to hold your alcohol, our mission may have failed before it even began.”

This time, the hotheaded agent doesn’t have a response to give you. Instead, he just closes his eyes and leans himself against you, allowing himself to be dragged to the room. In the elevator though there is some elderly woman decked to the dimes in diamonds and sapphires who gives the two of you a knowing look from where she stands.

“Long night?” She asks you, staring straight ahead as the doors close behind you.

“Tell me about it…” You laugh, grunting as Tom begins to slip and you’re forced to pull him up further against you. She laughs with you with a look in her eyes as if she’s remembering something long ago, and with that the conversation between you ends.

She gets off on the next floor, and you and Tom manage to make it back to your room giving the impression of a young dutiful wife just taking her drunk husband back to their room.

Soon as you get inside, you chuck Tom off you onto the sofa and chuckle as you imagine him waking up in the middle of the night with a sore back and his evening clothes.

You change into comfy pajamas you packed and get into bed, almost falling straight to sleep with how comfy the bed and pillows are, but not before listening to the sound of Tom's snoring that sends you into a deep sleep.

When you wake on the morning of the mission to the sound of your alarm, you can’t help but allow your eyes to be drawn to the sofa where you expect to see Toms drooped over a wine stinking body. Only there’s no one there.

“Tom?” You call out as you step out the bed and make your way to the bathroom thinking maybe he’s in there throwing up his insides. Only when you hear no response or even any throwing up noises do you enter to find it in the exact same way you left it this morning.

When you touch the sofa you take note of how it’s slightly cold to the touch, and can’t help yourself but think about Tom possibly staggering from his seat late at night whilst you slept and got himself in trouble.

The anxiety gnaws at your mind as the possibilities of what could’ve happened to him keep coming at you.

Where did he go?

What if he went looking for more alcohol in a dingy bar somewhere and got caught?

What if he’s lying somewhere dead?

By the time you come around your nails are half shredded and your legs are shaking slightly from how long you’ve been standing up. And to keep yourself sane for the time being you find yourself for the first time ever texting Agent Tom Bennett.

The agency for every new case assigns the agent a different phone with all the information and numbers needed. You’d been given yours after the debriefing, and yet somehow Tom had already begun to spam you with random texts throughout the day.

What is your favourite food? What's your drink of choice? What’s your favourite colour?

You never answered, partially because leaving him on read was an exhilarating experience. So texting him now felt strange to do.

Where are you?

You texted him that first. But after five minutes of watching the pixilated words be left unanswered and unread you sent him another.

I hope your having the worst hangover of your life. You deserve it after last night and how you acted. Show up to the mission sober if you can go so long without a drink I’m surprised the so great agent Bennett is an alcoholic

You take a break staring in order to take a shower and hopefully clear your thoughts. As you step out the bathroom and begin to towel dry your hair you hear your phone ping with a notification, and it’s as if rocks have been tied to your feet with how heavy they feel walking to your phone.

You open it with a hitched breath, and you almost get the urge to chuck it straight out the balcony doors when you see the message.

Didn’t think you’d have worried about little old me that much Mrs. And don’t worry, my hangover, which I’m sad to report is practically non existant, will probs be gone before the mission even begins. I’ll meet you there when you need me.

And when you think it’s over, he sends another

By the way it’s you’re when speaking bout my headache love, not your ;)

“Bastard.” You groan this time chucking yourself against the bed. Why does he take such pleasure in your annoyance? Why does he seem to enjoy making your life so hard?

In the end in an attempt to take your mind off the hurricane that was Tom Bennett you switch your phone off and spend the whole day in your hotel room fixing yourself up for this evening.

You firstly treat yourself to room service breakfast involving pancakes, croissants, bacon and the whole nine dimes. Then after cleaning yourself up you got onto the actual dressing up aspect.

The dress as soon as you had arrived in the room yesterday was hung up on a hook from within its protective bag in the wardrobe, and when you retrieve it and unravel it you go just as breathless as you were when you first saw it.

The blue is still as breathtaking and the length still as satisfactory. You almost get the girlish urge to put it on now and twirl around like how you did as a child in your Disney princess costume, but stop yourself as you remember Stan warning you not to crease the dress at all, so to be safe you zip the protective cover straight back up and close the wardrobes door firmly to be safe.

So you move on to trying on everything else. The bra you plan to wear isn't too important as the dress will cover up your shoulders so that's out of the way.

The shoes take up some time but in your opinion not long enough. Since practically as soon as the questions come at you their answers come shooting in quick succession behind them. The question on what was nonexistent as since you knew dancing was going to happen whether by the agencies demand or even Toms, heels were out of the question. And since there were few other shoes packed for you in your suitcase you soon found yourself with some dark navy kitten heels that managed to make you feel elegant and safe at the same time.

Makeup though was your biggest time consumer though. You spent hours thinking about what was suitable and what was not with all the products that had been packed all laid out on the dresser table in front of you.

You couldn't put too much on, as then everyone would stare and you might as well cancel the mission before it's even begun. Though you couldn't go without any or be super subtle with it all or else even then you'll get judgemental stares from people. So you spend quite a bit of time in front of the mirror putting various different products on your face and finally after what thankfully feels like forever, you find a style that suits both you and the mission at hand perfectly.

When experimenting, you did debate on possibly wearing something you think would interest the man whose house you're infiltrating, but you soon put that thought to bed when the con list became longer than the pros, not that there was even anything on there in the beginning. You had no idea what he was truly like behind closed doors apart from of course betraying his country and his people that is.

Though the one you wear now, it makes you feel powerful.

It’s a good mixture of subtle yet striking, with the use of eyeliner forcing people to look into your eyes. There’s only a little conditioner and foundation to cover up a few spots and blemishes. The only other thing you decide to use make-up wise is some lipstick that’s a little darker than your natural lip shade.

You decide to take it off as it’s still a while before you need to leave before the ball, so to waste time you do what you never would’ve done before this mission.

You sat on the bed in a complimentary dressing gown, ordered some fancy lunch, and watched reality tv. You watch it all as you eat without any complaints. It feels like you were a teenager all over again without a care in the world.

Though soon the time ticks away and it’s about time for you to get changed into your outfit and prepare your weapons. A small pistol strapped to your thigh. A signet looking ring on your ring finger that when activated, could deliver 50 thousand volts to whoever is unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of it. And your personal favourite, a pepper spray that���s disguised to look like a shade of red lipstick.

When that’s all sorted though and hidden away from the public eye, only then do you dare turn your phone back on. You don’t really know what to expect. Messages from Tom begging for forgiveness? A message from your supervisor saying you’re gonna be extracted as Toms blew the mission?

You will say what you do find when you turn your phone. Nothing. No messages, no notifications, nothing.

It’s a blow to the stomach but you take it on the chin and deal with it, especially when it's Tom you’re dealing with.

Walking down to the lobby to get to the car that’ll bring you to the rich guy's mansion, you can feel the stares of others on your skin as you walk. To keep appearances you simply sway your hips as you pass to show you are unbothered by your past, and smile at yourself like you own the world.

Which you certainly feel like when you realise the car that’ll be dropping you off is a smaller yet still classy limousine, even equipped with an equally handsome man who opens the door for you to get in.

“Good evening Mrs Carrington,” The kind man begins as you slowly sway closer. “My name is Webster, and I shall be your chauffeur for the duration of this service. There are drinks within the back as-well as many small snacks in case you were feeling particularly peckish. Do you have any questions for me?”

“No thank you Webster I believe any I thought of have already been answered.” You just simply say with a smile of gratitude as you duck into the car and let out a sigh you didn’t even realise you were holding as you sat down on the soft leather.

You turn your head slightly to get a look at these drinks and small snacks on offer, and it truly does seem all your questions have been answered as you meet the eyes of your pretend husband for the evening as he drinks at a bottle of unlabelled substance.

“I’d have thought after yesterday you’d avoid alcohol…” You can’t help but snidely comment, watching as he grumbles at it.

“I came back didn’t I? Ain’t that the most important thing?”

“The most important thing Bennett, is you making sure you don’t screw this mission over with your day drinking.” You respond, and in an act of retaliation that shocks even you, you make a grab at the bottle of drink and sniff at the top to try and tell what it is.

Though you suppose it’s even more shocking for you to discover that the bottle doesn’t smell like cheap booze as you thought it was, but actually it was the scentless yet still recognisable scent of water.

“Not had a drop since yesterday.” Tom sneers, grabbing back the bottle to take another swig. "Wouldn't want to embarrass the perfect little agent anymore than I already have."

"Don't call me that Bennett." You snap, looking at him with hate in your eyes as you try to think back to the nice man you talked with yesterday.

"Why not Mrs? Aren't you the one who's got the 100% success rate in all their missions? The one who always catches the bad guy with not a single scratch on her soft delicate skin?" Tom continues to antagonise you and you swear you're this close to yanking that bottle from his hands and whacking him to death with it in this very car.

"Let's just focus on the mission, husband, so then this can all be over and done with and we can go back to never talking too or even better not even seeing each other again. Alright?"

"Fine..." He amusingly grumbles as he slumps further into the seat. "Run the plan by me again Mrs as I'm sure you've memorised it all already."

"I actually have, but if you insist. We get into the venue posing as Mr and Mrs Carrington, then socialise for a bit to appear as the average bourgeoisie couple, maybe even dance a bit if we need to. After that we head to the politician's office to extract the information from the hard drive within the vault. Hopefully we should be out and back in bed before midnight. Any questions?"

Tom, deciding to be the class clown in a car of only three people, raises his hand as if in a classroom. "I've got a question Mrs! Who said anything about dancing?"

"The supervisor did. As according to him we need to fit in as much as possible and that includes dancing whether you like the idea or not. Oh, and one more thing silly old me forgot to mention. Don't flirt with any lonely wives or daughters."

"Oh come on Mrs don't you think I have some self restraint?" He attempts to laugh with a smile on his face that soon much to your own amusement however, is quickly wiped away when he sees the dead seriousness of your expression and voice. "Do you really think that little of me?"

"Well within the first full day of knowing me you got drunk as a sailor after being honest for two seconds with me, then left in the middle of the night to do god knows what in the streets. So yes Agent Bennett, that is what I think of you."

"You remind me of my sister... I don't say that often or with great pleasure..." Tom grumbles while you yourself find yourself acting surprised at his words.

"You've got a sister?" You find yourself asking.

"Yeah. Lois. The brains of the family while I got the looks. Was a singer in a pub before she got the qualifications after having a baby to become a nurse at some great big hospital. Dad's little brainy-box while I'm sitting in a jail cell for another night." This time, you don't say the words that immediately pop into your head. As even as helpful as they will try to sound you know he'll take it as pity whichever way you say it. "Though I suppose I got the looks at least! We can agree on that, can't we missus! What you say after this we go to the pub? My treat!"

And with not even what you could say a snap of the fingers the energetic careful Agent Bennett returns. Along with the urge to smack him round the head with one hand while with the other you call HR.

"And do what? Just drinking?" You find yourself asking.

"Sure! And maybe more if you feel like it. No pressure at all! I do like my ladies, consenting I'll have you know!"

"Oh great you like the basic rules of sex. Good to know..." You grumble, and with your last strand of patience snapping, you find a small bottle of fruity cider you remember drinking back when you were a uni student and taking a swig.

"Now who needs to be told to watch their liquor!" Tom laughs.

"Shut it or I'm throwing you out of the car myself and making you walk."

"But I dunno where I'll be heading sweetheart!"

"Then ask a local for directions."

"But I don't speak french?"

"39% of the French population say they can speak English. With how much of a talker you tend to be, I'm sure you won't have much of an issue finding someone!"

After yours and Tom's little marital spat, as Tom himself called it as he grumbled like a toddler slouching against the seats, the rest of the ride to the estate was filled with silence. Occasionally the sound of a honking car or the regular noises of the bustling city life broke the silence, but apart from that you and Tom made no effort to get along.

You sometimes take a sip of the cider you opened without much thought, and you regret very soon as the taste washes over your tongue. There’s a reason why you drank this at uni. It’s cheap, it’s strong, and after a couple bottles you can’t remember your own name.

“We’re about five minutes from the location Mr and Mrs Carrington,” The driver says through the little intercom. “I suggest you start thawing out before the entrance.”

You and Tom look at each other from the corner of your eyes, and deep down know the man is right. Even if the two of you couldn’t stand each other right now, for the sake of the country as much as Tom claims to hate it you both do not want the innocent people to suffer.

“Fine.” You spit.

“Fine.” Tom grumbles back.

So like the loved-up couple you were both playing to be, with neither knowing who began moving first, yours and Tom's hand found each other and clutched together in a firm embrace.

When the both of you get out of the car at the front of the politician's house, your hands still clutch hard against one another as you both adorn the masks you’ve been given to conceal your identity.

In an almost ironic turn of events, you were given the mark of the devil, and Tom the mask of the angel.

"Looking good Mrs." You hear Tom say.

"Save it!" You simply snap back with your eyes facing straight forward. If he wants to try and make you begin liking him again with simple words, he's gonna have to try much harder than that. Preferably on his knees, but you don't mind as long as he truly shows his regret.

And with how you can practically hear him rolling his eyes at you, you know he'll at this point need to be doing a lot more than getting on his knees for you if you had anything to say to him.

The target as expected wasn't at the door to greet his guests. Instead, he simply walked around the rooms like God's greatest gift and allowed them the honour of approaching.

Only he wasn't going to be the spider standing idly by waiting for the fly to come to him. Tonight, he was the ignorant fly while you and Tom sat perched in your little web, venom ready awaiting the right moment to strike.

"You seen him yet angel?" Tom murmurs against your ear as he leads you into the main ball room with his hand perched firmly on your lower back. You can feel the warmth of his palm alone through the fabric of your clothes, and you hate the way it makes your stomach churn in a way that leaves you craving for more.

"If I saw him, I'd tell you." You just simply say, turning your head away from him as you still feel where his breath had tickled you. Somehow though, you didn't manage to pluck the courage inside you to move from his hand that still firmly imprints itself against you.

You can hear him lightly chuckle beside you, and with a quick yet heavy sip of the complimentary champagne you were offered when you both walked through the door, the mission began.

With every step forward you felt daggers piercing the back of your neck, and with every sudden high pitched laugh belonging to some man's wife you felt the grip on Tom's arm suddenly tighten.

"What you doing that for?!" He suddenly whispers after the fifth time.

"Something doesn't feel right..." You try to reason, resisting every urge to turn around.

"Oh I'm sorry. I guess I didn't realise I was partnered with the bloody girl who saw dead people."

"If we were not in this room full of people I want you to know I would've smacked you round the back of the head for that."

"Careful love. If you do it I may just like it."

"Save it for the gullible women you manage to con into sleeping with you." You attempt to seem disgusted at his actions as you think about how many women seem to be affected by Tom's typical charm, but then you're reminded that you were one of the women who'd fallen victim to his boyish-like smiles and his dopey laugh. You'll never admit this to anyone, but your face may have turned a little pink at the memory.

"Only if that gullible woman is you my sweet." Tom quips right back, smiling at you in such a way it feels like your heart may beat out of your chest. Yet to stop him from charming you anymore, you just roll your eyes and nudge Tom into the direction of the bar.

"Thought you said I wasn't allowed to drink?

"I did. It's just the extra cherry on top of the milkshake being able to drink in front of you. Like eating chocolate in front of a child past its bed time." You grin, ordering a double gin and tonic and finishing that first sip with an exaggerated sigh. "Husband, would you mind paying the bartender for my drink pretty please? I seem to have left my purse at home!"

"Any man that makes his wife pay for her own drinks looking like that in that dress is no man." The bartender comments, looking you up and down as he takes Tom's card and puts it through the machine. While the man's back is turned for a moment you can't help but observe him.

You recognise him from the list of employees you looked at before arriving tonight. His name is Henry Clarkes, a ginger middle aged man from Exeter currently on his 3rd marriage collapse. Though to be fair, that wouldn't have happened if he hadn't gotten another girl even younger than yourself pregnant with his 4th child. Though that's just your opinion...

By your side Tom grumbles something illegible as he stares daggers into the back of the man's head. And to your surprise, he only manages to push out an obviously strained thanks that even the man behind the bar chuckles at. So before Tom takes it upon himself to leap across that bar and beats the man black and blue, you take Tom's hand firmly in your own to squeeze it tight and drag him away from the scene.

"Bet you loved that." He says soon as you're far enough away. "But you would've taken him into our hotel room if I wasn't there!"

"Fucks sake Tom if i'd have known you were just as a dickhead sober I would've gotten you a drink before we came here. Maybe it would've made you more bearable..."

"So you don't deny it!" He growls, pulling you with a yelp as he forces you to a wall at the edge of the party. "You would've fucked him in our bed?"

"Jesus Tom no I would not have fucked that random man in our hotel bed!" You try to whisper, but it's sort of hard too when there's gossipy women practically circling you where you stand. "Unlike you, I don't sleep with random people I've met in the span of less than a minute!"

"I don't do that anymore!" Is that his defence? Really?

"Since when? This morning!?"

"Since I realised I'd be working with you a few weeks ago." It's the way he says it so quickly you suppose is what makes you so flustered. The way he had no hesitation in the words as if he had been waiting to say them all his life.

"Tom... I-"

"My my and who are these two lovebirds tucked away in the corner?" A voice suddenly says, bursting the two of you out of whatever trance you were entrapped in. You both turn to this person, and you have to physically stop yourself from reacting when you recognise them. The exact man whose home and party you just sneaked into, the corrupt french politician.

"I'm Dahlia Carrington monsieur, and this is my husband Thomas! I apologise for our behaviour, we were just having a little argument and-"

"Oh no need to apologise mademoiselle! I myself have at least one argument a day with my own wife!" That's cause you've been cheating on her with the nanny of your four children all under the age of 12. If it wasn't so sad to think about given the age gap, you'd have laughed at the cliche of it all. "Let me guess! She's been hitting the cards and the drinks a little too hard huh?"

Did this man really just manage to call you a gold-digger and some kind of alcoholic all in one insult? You think he did. Tom thinks it too, by the way he seems to glare the same kind of despising glaring at this man just like how he did at the bartender.

"Sure." Tom grits out, his jaw clenched down hard. You look down, and see that even his whole body is reared up.

Yet it seems this man is as dense as his security is, since he just keeps on talking.

"You know what you need to do son? Need to get her on a tighter leash if you ask me!" If Tom doesn't hit him, you definitely will at this point. "Maybe even give her a child! Cause I can tell from her figure alone that she hasn't had any yet! But trust me on this, only have a single son! Cause then you've got the heir, the wife off your back, and a still tight one when you need it! Oh, and by the way mademoiselle, you may want to smile a bit more. Makes you look all wrinkled and old."

How is this man smiling right now at you? He has just told you that you were pretty much just at best, a childbearing sex doll for your husband, and he's just standing there with the biggest fucking grin on his face drinking some million dollar looking champagne. How fucking dare?

"Ooh! I must be off now! There are so many guests to see and so little time... au revoir my good friends!" He smiles, disappearing into the crowd of the bourgeoisie, leaving you and Tom at the edge with anger written clearly on both your faces.

"I'm gonna kill him." You say first.

"Not if I do it first." Tom responds immediately after. "I'll push him down the stairs so everyone will claim it was cause he was drunk."

"I was just gonna shoot him in the head."

"Wouldn't that blow our cover?" Tom curiously asks, turning to you while you look back at him with a unique smile on your face that Tom can't help but cause a shiver to run up his spine.

"Doesn't matter to me. At least I get the satisfaction of knowing I rid the world of another patriarchal dickheaded twat..." You firmly say, watching Tom's mouth slowly turn into an almost impressed smirk.

"Fair enough wife. Fair enough."

Tom takes your hand in his as he slowly directs you through the room till you get to the staircase to the upper floors. Thankfully they haven't been shut off to the public, and instead people are being encouraged to look around and marvel at all the weird and frankly sort of disturbing memorabilia adorning the walls, such as stuffed animals being glass and paintings of worryingly young girls.

"His office is another floor up. If we continue looking like some regular prissy couple then we can get there easy." He says directing you further down the corridor to yet another set of stairs.

"If I knew I'd need to be climbing up so many stairs I'd have requested the costume team to have packed me more comfortable shoes..." You grumble as Tom looks over his shoulder to merely laugh at your pain.

"Awe, is the poor little lady unhappy she has to climb some simple stairs?" He pouts as he tilts his head, laughing loud at how you scowl at him. "I would've thought little miss perfect would've actually looked at the mission plans before this. My my was the mrs slacking?"

"Idiot." You simply sigh, rolling your ankles as soon as you get to the next floor. "I did look at the plans I'll have, you know! It's not my fault that it was never specified the height of the stairs..." You mumble. You can see Tom laugh slightly with a delighted twinkle in his eye as he looks at your pouting lips. He sure loves to see you suffer....

"I mean I could've carried Mrs up if her royal highness had asked me." Tom shrugs, laughing as you take the time to wack him on his upper arm with the back of your hand. "Hey hey hey Mrs don't hit our loving devoted husband! I did offer!"

"Yeah, when we were already up the stairs!"

"At least I offered at all! Besides, the office is just up here. You've stretched your ankle enough." Tom groans, grabbing you by the wrist this time to lead you. You grumble behind him as you look around at the corridor for any cameras and any extra security.

You spot three cameras already by the time you both get to the door, and tap Tom's hand to let him know. Thankfully you can't see anything else that would get in the way of the mission like a keypad or a retinal scanner. If you had to admit, it was sort of basic considering what information the man was storing and with how much money he had.

"You got it?" He pulls you in close to murmur against your ear. To those currently watching, it would've looked like a husband leaning in to whisper some romantic words to his wife.

"Of course." You simply murmur back, fiddling with your earring as you find the tiny switch and press it. It's amazing what kind of technology the intelligence lab can come up with, as to any other person looking at you they may have thought you were wearing simple ordinary earrings. But, in actuality they were specially designed in order to, when having the switch pressed, would expel a small burst of electromagnetic waves that'd disrupt the cameras feed, giving the organisation enough time to replace it with a fake copy. "Should be replaced now."

Usually, the organisation would have people on hand to hack into the cameras and change the feed. But apparently they couldn't do it within the time they got to the secure location and the time you'd be getting to the location. So for the time being, the earrings had to do.

"Then let's get inside. Stupid bastard doesn't even have a lock on the door." He laughs, stepping inside and closing it behind you. "He even left his safe in clear view of the room! What a twat!"

"Careful Tom!" You can't help but say, watching as he strides across the room with no possible caution for danger. "We don't know exactly what sort of security this man has on his safe!"

"Then I suppose we better figure it out then Mrs." He continues to smile, this time walking directly up to the safe as he puts on a pair of gloves you didn't know where he was even hiding them. "Seems pretty simple to me..."

Tom puts his head against the cool material of the box and slowly begins to turn the dial ever so slowly so he can hear the distinct clicks from within. Slowly you walk up behind him and watch him as he works, which gives you a view of something you had no idea you'd be interested in viewing.

From where you stood you could see Tom's long nimble hands work as they touch the dial and in a strange way stroke the surface of the safe as he moves his hand. If you had to be honest with yourself, it's sort of hypnotising.

"You know I can feel you staring at me right Mrs?" Tom's cocky voice suddenly says, breaking you from whatever strange spell Tom's fingers had on you. He even turns to stare at you as he says this, and you can't find yourself even in the position to lie to yourself that Tom's grin doesn't make you feel like you have butterflies swarming right now in your stomach.

"Just open the safe Agent Bennett." You snarl, admittedly the nickname feeling strange against your tongue.

"My my back to the origins are we missus? Then it's a good thing I've got the perfect nickname for you and I'll never be using anything less for my favourite girl!" Tom turns back to the last few digits of the safe, and you're left with a blush you pray this man does not see. He still calls you Mrs after seeing how annoyed it got you. Just how long would it take to shake off the fact you blushed due to his charm?

"Are you almost done?" You ask, attempting to distract yourself and hope it goes down quickly.

"If you let me listen I'd be done quicker." He quips, letting out a loud "Aha!" when the final distinct tick sounds, and he's able to turn the wheel and open the safe door with a self-satisfied smile. "And you thought to doubt me?"

"Shut it." You sigh, stepping out the way as Tom swings the door out towards the two of you, to reveal another door.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tom groans, the sound of which you ignore as you walk up to it and see what it is you're dealing with. Unlike the security on the last door, this one is equipped with a key pad with numbers zero through nine, and no real indication on how long the sequence needed to be.

Yet that doesn't appear to stop you as you try putting in the birthday of the nanny, to which an annoyingly loud noise sounds out indicating a failed attempt. "Two attempts remain." A male robotic voice says.

"What did you do!?" Tom shouts, forcibly grabbing your upper arm to turn you around and look at him.

"I took my shot." You simply say, taking Tom's arm in your hand and shoving it away so hard he steps back once. "And don't you dare touch me like that again Tom."

To your relief, he doesn't seem in the mood to pick a fight with you as he just grumbles under his breath staring at the door keeping the both of you from your mission.

Admittedly, you both stay where you stand for a few minutes thinking about possible numbers the politician would hold dear to him. Anything to do with his wife is immediately off the table such as anniversaries or her birthday. You'd thought he'd maybe take advantage of the nanny more than he had already, but that seems to be just as effective as the wife. That's when you suddenly get reminded of something he's said to Tom early while he was halfway through a misogynistic ramble he'd been on.

'But trust me on this, only have a single son!'

"Tom," You begin to ask, turning to said man who at the sound of his name looks back at you recognising the thinking expression on your face. "What was that thing the bastard was saying about his son?"

You say this rhetorically as you step closer and closer to the keypad with a grin as you enter the birth date of the politician's only son and youngest child, and are welcomed with the same robotic voice as before. "Welcome monsieur, to the vault." It simply says, before this time Tom's voice breaks through the silence.

"Fucking smarty pants!" He says as he moves in front of you. At first you think this is just another insult, but then you see the way his face is actually lit up in pride and realise quickly he's actually proud of you. "Knew you could do this Mrs!"

"Really?" You can't help but ask, watching as his face quickly turns serious as he looks at you. It's strange.

"Of course. You're smart, you are. More smarter than I could ever be. I mean, you actually listened to the French bastard while he was talking to us."

"You weren't?"

"No. I was just imagining my fists pummelling into his face till he swallows his own teeth and is forced to be put on life support in some shitty hospital that without him knowing bleeds his money dry as he fights for his life." He admits, watching you closely as you blink in surprise at the level of violence this man in front of you is willing to express.

"Damn... he must've pissed you off good Tom." You try to make the mood lighter, but still Tom's face stays oddly serious and calm.

"Of course he did. No one should get to talk about you like that in front of you, or even away from you, and get to smile like that ever again. Now let's get into this vault thing." Fuck. Here comes the blush and the feral butterflies in the stomach. A double whammy...

"Y-yeah lets!" You quickly say, standing close behind Tom as he opens the door and thankfully this time not revealing another door, but instead revealing a large room filled with a variety of things that would no doubt add up to millions, possibly even ranging into a billion pounds.

"Who even needs this?" Tom's voice suddenly rings out. You turn to the direction of where his voice came from, and begin to laugh hard when you see exactly what Tom is so confused by. A large bottle of what looked like it used to hold port, but now holds a deep amber coloured liquid that took you a second to realise what it is as well as some other bits floating about.

Agent Tom Bennett is holding in his hands a witches' bottle. AKA, a bottle filled with some random person's piss, toe nails, hair and other various bodily things.

You must've made him nervous as for the first time you think since the mission started he says your name in a meek manner. "What am I holding..."

"You, you're holding some poor person's piss!" You laugh, practically wheezing with no consideration for noise levels as you watch Tom's face contort into one of pure disgust and horror. He manages to put it down as gently as a man who just discovered he's holding a bottle of piss can be, yet it still manages to make you laugh so hard you almost fall over.

"That's fucking disgusting!" The poor man shouts, staring at the offending item with deeply furrowed eyebrows and hateful eyes. "Why the fuck would anyone want that?!"

"I dunno. People used to make them in order to draw in and trap harmful intentions directed at their owners like evil spirits or counteract witches spells. It's sort of cool, when you get past the fact that it's basically just piss and nails and other bodily stuff in a jar."

"Still fucking disgusting. Let's just find this stupid hard drive..." He grumbles, rubbing the hand that touched the bottle on his suit.

You continue to giggle behind Tom as you follow him through the assortment of items. By the looks of it, basically all of it has been organised into sort of sections, making the look for the area with the electronics much easier for the two of you.

After some time looking through some boxes of various things, you find a hard drive labelled with the dangerous info the politician was storing. You'll be honest, it almost felt too easy finding it.

"That's it?" You hear Tom comment from behind as you turn around to face him with the device within your pointing finger and thumb.

"That's it." You shrug, stepping forward to adjust Tom's suit jacket so you can get to the small inside pocket and place the device inside it. It's a little bigger than what was expected, but it still fits just fine within its containment.

"Are we done now," Tom starts to murmur, making you realise the position you were in. You were standing barely a breath away from him, still holding his jacket lapel with your hands keeping him close. You swear you can feel his breath fan against your face, your own face though being pulled straight out of your lungs when you for certain feel his hands slowly move to touch your waist. "I was beginning to enjoy my time with you. Maybe we can fit in a dance before we leave, huh missus?"

You can barely find yourself able to speak as you're frozen where you stand. You can barely manage to nod as you can only find yourself praying for your life that the blush on your face isn't as noticeable as you feel it being.

"Y-yeah." You finally manage to strain out, not even able to look at him as you try to focus on instead of his face a small stain near his chest pocket. Yet it seems Tom has other plans, as he removes one of the hands from your waist to your chin, which he uses only two of his fingers to gently move your head up and force you to look at him eye to eye.

You feel your eyes drawn upwards to look at his face, yet even that action doesn’t last long as you suddenly find yourself staring at his lips while he moistens them with his tongue. They’re a pretty shade of pink, and under the harsh light overhead you can swear you find them glistening slightly.

You murmur Tom's name under your breath lightly, and your eyes close as you feel his hands curl tightly around your body with a sense of possessiveness you never thought you’d get from him.

As you begin to lean closer, feeling his warm breath slowly cause goosebumps to raise all along the length of your arms, you can feel your eyes slowly close as you begin to wonder how this situation has occurred, and why the hell does it feel so right to do?

That is however, till you hear faint footsteps that sound like they're coming closer.

"Do you hear that?" You murmur as you open your eyes slightly to look at Tom, who to your slight amusement is still stuck within the moment. His eyes are still closed, and his mouth slightly puckered as he still tries to inch himself closer and closer.

"I didn't hear anything." He quickly says, not opening his eyes or anything. "Just get over here so I can-"

"They're over here!" A voice shouts in the distance, finally forcing Tom to accept the moment is over, and open his eyes to see your 'i told you so' expression.

Tom grumbles some incoherent words under his breath as he takes his gun out from his hidden inner pocket before turning to you. "Don't think this is over missus." He simply says, before turning to the direction of where the shouting came from.

You yourself just roll your eyes as you retrieve your own pistol still firmly strapped against your leg, and follow behind Tom as you both try to get some cover underneath all the ornaments and objects placed amongst each other.

There is only one main walkway that is designed to showcase every item as you walk around the room, but that doesn't mean people can't make their paths, as demonstrated when Tom walks head first through a rack of old animal fur coats. As the two of you begin to get closer to the exit, the sound of talking gets louder the more steps you take, and you both duck for cover behind a huge set of antique chests of drawers.

"Do we know how many are here?" You hear one of them say, followed by a symphony of guns being reloaded one after another. By the sounds of the guns alone, there's got to be around an even 10 guards ready to shoot you if given the command.

"The boss says can't be more than two." Another says soon after, most likely the squad leader if he's the one answering the questions. "They can't be too far, so fan out and shoot only to disarm or incapacitate. The boss wants us to question them to find out who they work for."

You and Tom from where you both are hiding look at each other in mutual understanding as the promise makes its way through both your heads at the same time. Don't leave the other behind no matter what.

Even though you had both gone through with missions that slipped last second and been tortured by one too many people, even though you both knew the other could handle it the silent declaration still happened without a shadow of a doubt. Neither Tom nor you could bear to think of the other person being hurt by this French asshole.

"Any idea how to dodge these French pricks?" Tom asks as he turns to you, much to your surprise.

"Huh... and here I thought that you'd be all ready to shoot first escape later. What's changed? Did you hit your head when I wasn't looking? Trip on some old Victorian teddy bear?" You can't help but laugh, watching Tom's face doesn't even turn to a simple smirk as he answers.

"Can't have my missus getting hurt. So have you got a plan or do we need to fall back onto the shoot first plan?"

You hate to admit it, but it's at that moment when you finally realise why it had felt so right to be in his arms. Somehow between the chaos of the mission and the short but sweet moments together, you'd fallen for the man worse than James Bond himself, Agent Tom Bennett.

"I think I can see the entrance door from here. The guards have started fanning out more in the middle of the room, which is their mistake thinking we'd still be cowering in the back corner. If we're silent and don't draw attention, then I think we can get out of the room without gunfire and any unnecessary attention. Got that?" You finally say, turning to him and watching as he nods his head in return to your question.

"Got it missus. Take the lead." He says, gesturing his hand in a random direction. You roll your eyes at the nickname but less due to annoyance, and more due to amusement that he still insists on using it even though by now, the disguises have long since crumpled away.

Still, you say nothing and just gesture for him to follow you, which he does in a heartbeat. You can hear the heavy footsteps of the guards in the distance but to your and Tom's relief they go quieter instead of louder, indicating that the group were still making their way to the back of the room.

You make your way through all manner of objects in an attempt to stay away from the main path that stays primarily visible most of the length of the way. You pass rugs, more furniture similar to those earlier sets of drawers, faberge eggs, and even coincidentally old stuffed toys.

Soon, the view of the office you had passed to sneak in came into view. It was so close. You could not tell if there were any guards on the outside which was good for the both of you, as it seems these guards were dumber than they looked.

You turned around to check that Tom had successfully followed behind you with all the twists and turns through the junk, only as you did so, you managed to catch just in time Toms shoulder banging into wobbly piece of display furniture, causing an expensive yet boring looking vase to come toppling down and smash against the hard floor.

"For fucks sake..." You mumble as shouts go off in the distance in chime with heavy footsteps that inch close and closer towards you both.

"Sorry!" Tom yells at you as he leaps up and begins firing like crazy in an attempt to get these guys before they get either of you. You have to sigh in defeat at the turn of events before you also begin to fire at these men with everything you got while also moving backwards towards the exit.

For a minute, all you could hear was gunshot after gunshot, mixed in with the sounds of the guards screaming in pain when either you or Tom managed to get one. But that all changed when you felt one of the last guards bullets burying itself within your shoulder, bringing you down hard against the floor with a surprised scream.

You can hear Tom yell out your name as the last rounds of gunfire go off. As soon as the sounds stop you feel Tom's arms enveloping you so he can pull you closer and assess the wound.

"Shit shit shit you ok missus? Where'd it hit?" Tom begs, his voice frantic as he sees the hole in you gushing blood by the second. He doesn't know if the bullet has done any more damage other than the initial tissue damage, such as bone fracture or nerve injury. If Tom doesn't get you help soon, there's a chance with those nasty ass bullets you could get an infection within the wound.

"Come on darling let's get you safe." Tom says as he takes off his suit jacket and rips off a large section of the back to create a make-shift sling for you. As soon as he deems it tight enough, Tom pulls you up and places your uninjured arm around his neck so he can support you and make sure you leave this place by his side.

Every few steps Tom takes with you on his arm he is watching the surroundings carefully with his gun in easy reach. The previous gunfire must have alerted someone else about their presence, but to Tom's surprise there was no one. No other guards springing out of walls with their guns ready to blow his and your brains out. No evil bad guy with a pathetic monologue on the tip of his tongue. It's as if they were letting him and you walk out of there free with just the gunshot wound. How the hell could it be that simple?

"You still awake missus?" Tom asks, his lips crooked as he attempts to smile for you to show nothing could be worse, even though it easily most definitely could've been. You manage to groan a small response in return, and even if he couldn't make out a single syllable, he'd recognise that smart mouthed sass of yours anywhere. "Yeah yeah I hear you... There's a car out front we can get away in fitted with medical supplies for yourself. Why we don’t get some small basic med kit to keep on hand in case this shit happens, I've got no clue..."

The mission was not supposed to go like this. It was supposed to end great. With the hard drive in the hands of the supervisor and Tom and you having dinner somewhere. Not with you leaning on him for the support while you practically bled out all because of him.

Tom can hear the blood droplets hitting the once pristine white flooring of the hallway, and each soft individual splatter sends a shiver up his spine. He has no idea why he cares so deeply about you right now, and why even the thought of you being permanently injured sends pure nausea down to his stomach. Yet he pushes the thought process down as he makes sure you don't end up losing consciousness right now. The hallway cameras should still be under the control of the organisations tech people by now, but Tom doesn't want to risk chances by lingering when he could be getting you to safety as quickly as possible.

So while making sure your body is fully supported, Tom leads you down the stairs and the other hallways to a more discreet exit away from the crowds of people still there in the ball. The music from before had been so loud that he doubts they heard anything. Plus, they were no doubt distracted with the copious amounts of alcohol they'd all been ingesting in the last couple hours. 

The camera's tom spots are all pointed away from the two of you as you make your way through the halls. The blood coming from your shoulder has slowly begun to lessen, yet still with the way your shoulder and the surrounding areas were beginning to go numb, you still could feel the faint trails trickling down your legs and hear the odd droplets fall to the floor.

"Almost there missus almost there..." Tom mutters, seeing the last door separating you both to the outside world. When he first tried to get through, the door stayed firmly shut even after Tom attempted to slam his body against it in an attempt to loosen it.

"Fucks sake!" He groans, looking down and seeing the simple key lock needed to escape. "Can afford to purchase all that useless shit and keep it behind an electronic keypad but can't be bothered to purchase an electronic lock for the front door..."

Tom carefully places you upright against the closest wall so he can kneel down and get a closer look at the problem. It's just a simple titan key needed, but seeing at how simple it is and where the door leads, it's probably in the pocket of one of the many waiters walking around, and Tom didn't exactly have the time to ask all of them which person had the key. So he did something he never thought he'd be putting to use in real life. Tom grabbed a bobby pin from within your hair, and stuck it within the key lock.

It takes him an embarrassingly long time to get it right, but eventually after a couple hundred swears and scratches on his fingers, the door opens with a soft click and a small 'hurrah' from Tom himself. He even turns to you with a victorious smirk, which you return with another exhausted groan and even an exaggerated eye roll even though you begin to feel lightheaded with all the blood that's come out of you within the hour.

"Let's get you help missus."Tom grunts as he picks you back up from the floor and directs you to the direction of a car parked not too far from the entrance. It's smaller than the original limousine that brought you to the mission in the first place, but you can't help but faintly smile when you see the familiar face of Webster watching you from the driver's seat.

As soon as Tom sets you down inside the vehicle, you feel your body slump in the most unladylike of ways against the soft exterior of the car's seats and let out a sigh of relief that it's all over.

"I trust you know about removing a bullet Agent Bennett." Webster's voice rings out through the speaker as you feel the engine begin and the car drives off.

"Sarcastic bastard..." Tom murmurs as he swiftly takes the med kit from underneath the seat and opens it to take out the tweezers and the gauze and place them beside you on the seat. Next, he removes the piece of his suit he had used to originally stem the blood flow of the wound and rips your dress slightly so he can see your shoulder better without it interfering. You'll no doubt be pissed later, but he'll just send it to Stan later to get fixed.

With the barrier gone, blood flows more steadily than what it was a few minutes ago, but it doesn't matter right now as much as it does to make sure the bullet comes out fully. "This is going to hurt." Tom simply warns before he picks up the tweezers and begins to poke and prod his way inside of the wound.

It truly breaks his heart to hear your screams of pain, but he needs to persist and find this damn bullet. Thankfully it doesn't take too long, as with the combined layer of your dress and bra it managed to not let it go in as deep as it could've. So soon enough as the pesky bugger is soon plucked out and thrown somewhere within the car space while Tom quickly takes the gauze and wraps the wound tight.

"Feeling better missus?" He asks, forcing you to look at him as your eyes slowly regain a look of focus you minutes ago were losing fast.

"Yeah..." You manage to say, wincing as you move your shoulder slightly. "I'm alright. Thanks, for not leaving me in there."

"I'd never." Tom quickly says, shaking his head and furrowing his brows to further his point. "And besides, now that I know you're ok, I can continue where we left off."

"What do you mea-"

Before you can begin to question what Tom is trying to say, his lips capture yours, and your heart feels as though it stops mid-beat between your chest. You have no thoughts running through your head right now. Your focus being only on the calming warmth of Tom's lips and the faint taste of mint.

His hands cup your waist and face delicately as if you were made of pure glass. Yet as much as you enjoyed his tender touch, you didn't want Tom to think of you as delicate. You wanted him to hold you with the knowledge you could never crumble from him. For him to know he could never hurt you.

You never want this strange feeling of right to end, but when it eventually does, with the two of you both silently attempting to catch your breaths.

"Was that good?" Tom eventually asks, staring at you with hopeful eyes. "If I made you like uncomfortable or anything I'm sorry-"

"You didn't." You say with a smile as you lean forward to peck his lips again in a sweet kiss in reassurance. As you pull away, you can see Tom's lips turned in a bashful smile and his cheeks heat up to a light pink. If you were being honest, it was really fucking adorable. Words you never thought you'd ever say about agent Bennett in your life.

"Good." He simply says, focusing on the curves of your face and trying not to think about how his face is probably bright red due to embarrassment from being so soft with a girl. "Now let's get back to the hotel."

"Why are we going back to the hotel?" You ask, confusion in your voice.

"Cause I want you to get dressed up before I take you out for a date tonight. So shower, take as much time as you need to get ready, cause I want to make this as special for you as I ever could for you. Tell me your favourite food so I can book the best restaurant available for you. I'm sure Webster can deliver the hard drive when he returns the car."

"I can indeed sir." Webster says through the intercom, scaring the two of you as you both jump slightly in your seats. "Just pop it through the slot and I can take it straight to the supervisor no issue."

"Thank you Webster!" Tom grins as he takes the device and puts it through to the other side.

Webster takes it in his hand and places it within his own suit jacket pocket. His eyes are focused on the road, but he can't deny the warmth in his chest when he sees the two of you giggling and smiling between yourself in the backseat like a couple of lovesick teenagers. He drops you and Tom at the hotel as told, but he can't stop himself from watching the two of you enter the hotel together.

As soon as Tom had stepped out before you, he made sure to reach for your hand and help you step out like a proper gentleman, and the entire walk up to the hotel doors none of you made the step to let go.

Webster watched the two of you with a smile, as he thinks to himself, he has never seen a pair of people so in love with each other.

[echantedtoon]

Turbo/King Candy x Jessica Rabbit Like S/o Headcannons

This was a request a friend really wanted from me so here it is for anyone else to enjoy.

TURBO:

-You're a flag girl for a racing game similar to Outrun or Pole Position (both 80s racing games) although the big difference was that your game wasn't as popular as Turbotime so there wasn't really any reason for the guy to be jealous of the competition. At least not until Road Blasters but that's jumping the gun a little bit.  

-You don't exactly meet each other until you finally decided to leave your game one day to go join others at Tapper's for the anniversary of Litwak's arcade opening or some similar celebration that many other games were celebrating. Of course your taller than the average video game women height and body type would turn some heads and the smaller racer was no exception. 

-Dude literally has to strain his neck for a double take just to be sure he was seeing things from the amount of surgery root beer he's consumed by now. But once he confirms that you actually exist- MAN. IS. SMITTEN. ON. SIGHT!! I'm talking about the guy chokes on his drink as you gorgeously smile his way even if you weren't smiling at him, just his general direction, but it gives him enough confidence to make his move. 

-He starts by buying you a drink, Tapper setting it right in front of you, before this tiny man gracefully struggled to climb onto the stool next to you slicking his helmet back like it was hair, and giving you a sly smile. "Hey, Baby.~ Are you a parking ticket?~ Cuz you got FINE written all over you?~"

-If it doesn't work out the first time be prepared for MANY 80s pick up lines including- "If I had to rate you from one to ten I'd give you a nine because I'm the one you need." "Hey. I'm writing a phone book. Can I have your number to put in it?" "Hey, Doll face. Wanna get physical?~" And other similar ones not considered cringey quite yet.

-He's pretty egotistical in personality so expect him to brag about everything involving him to you. His trophies, his winning streak, how his game's the most popular in the arcade, how he totally beats the Turbotime Twins in everything- Did he mention that he's also the greatest racer ever? He's trying to prove how much you should be smitten too often inviting you to come view him race.

-He secretly daydreams about you being the one that waves the checkered flag upon him crossing the finish line and plastering him in affection with him showing off to the world. Gold trophy in one hand while holding a beautiful woman in the other. Everyone knows his deep crush on you. 

-Remember when Felix and Calhoun kissed and little hearts appeared? Yeah. That happens every time he thinks about you or he happens to see you in Grand Central Station or Tapper's. Other's make fun of him for that a lot and he absolutely hates it and denied it every time but everyone and their programmers know about his crush. It's super obvious by this point.

-If by some reason you do happen to date him expect him to brag about having the most beautiful girlfriend in the entire arcade. "Hey, Pac-Man. How's Mrs. Pac-Man? Guess what?! My girlfriend's hotter than that yellow beachball reject!!" You're going to have to stop him from opening his mouth before Pac-Man tries to eat him again and he was very close to Mario just goomba stomping him after he insulted Princess Peach/Toadstool. Please stop this idiot from insulting everyone's wife before someone punts him back to Turbotime.

-He's not picky about personality and would genuinely love you but he'd be very happy if you were able to knock him down a peg(he thinks it's hot his girl can kick his behind-) or two. If you pick him up he'll also fight against it and complain the entire time you hold him, but ngl he's actually very into it. He has a thing for taller women after all...Even if he hates it when you tease him or hold things out of his reach.

-However one of the downsides of you deciding to pursue the relationship with him is his jealousy. Doesn't matter who's approaching you, if Turbo's around he always gives them a death glare that can put Bowser's fire breath to shame. So some game characters might avoid you because of that temper. And if someone were to flirt with you- Overprotective guard dog with rabies he is. Don't underestimate him because of his height. More than once he's started a bar fight at Tapper's over someone getting too close or attempting to make unwanted advances especially if you had already said no. 

-Don't underestimate him because of his height. More than one person has had a personal experience with Turbo turning into an angry honey badger infested with rabies as he was provoked.  People have learnt quickly to not make fun of his height, and to not try any funny business around you. More than once you'd have to pry him off someone and walk away with him tucked under your arm screaming profanities like a crazy Chihuahua.

KING CANDY:

-IK he's just Turbo in disguise but his personality shift in his KC disguise is notable enough to be different from how OG Turbo would go about it. However like OG Turbo once he sees you he's absolutely smitten by you. Unlike OG Turbo however his approach to you is much more normal if by normal having a guy with Tinkerbell shoes shuffle up to you and tell you how much your eyes remind him of sparkling rock candy.

-Honestly this pairing gives more of the Jessica and Rodger Rabbit vibes. Goofy little man with a gorgeous knockout GF. His goofball charms and shyer attempts at courting you are probably what got you falling for this man in the beginning.

-Instead of eyeing your form like many others, this man instead decides to court you in the most cheesy ways possible. Bringing you chocolates and other candy from his game(it's not like there's a limited amount of  it). Flowers (specifically either chocolate roses or edible flowers arrangements). Love notes, those really cheesy ones that don't even rhythm but they're so sweet you don't mind. 

-Mans loves you endlessly and will spend hours just gazing at you with literal heart eyes with hearts popping around his head. Very sweet alongside being goofy. Surprisingly a romantic too. Offers to drive you around on the back of his car. Plans at least one date that has you both sharing two straws in one milkshake. If he's feeling really romantic then he gets you those Valentine's hard candies shaped like hearts or those red lollipops also shaped like hearts. He even dedicates his wins to you in an attempt to impress you.

-Speaking of- He's very much the Rodger Rabbit of your relationship. Always gazing goofily at you with a love struck grin to the point Sour Bill has caught him daydreaming of you all lovestruck with a dopey grin. He's a king so anything you want in Sugar Rush is at your disposal. Want a glass of chocolate milk? How about a front row seat to watch the races? Would you like Sour Bill as a personal servant? Sour Bill completely disagrees with that last gesture.

-You once agreed to be a flag girl for one of the Random Roster Races, ironically one HE won, and when you gave him a winner's kiss he's been begging you to wave the checkered flag at other races too.

-Very sweet and energetic. If his goofy antics aren't making you giggle or smile, he's always flirting with you with cheesy puns since he's a guy who loves a play on words. "Are you a piece of cake? Custh you're the scheetest.~" "What's sweet and curvy? A candy cane of courseth but you're better.~" "Your voice is more beautiful than golden honey.~" "Did you sit in sugar? C-Cuzth that's -...Gumdrops! Forget what I said." He tried being more bold but ended up becoming too flustered and couldn't finish that last bit.

-You're going to get lots of cute candy nicknames. Honey. Sugar. Honeypie. Gumdrop. Angel cake. Cupcake. Sweetheart. Sweet cheeks. Tootsie pop. When he's feeling more romantic or sentimental he'll call you more special names like My Dear, Darling, My Queen, etc. 

-When you pick him up and kiss him he just melts in your arms. Giving a loud 'HOHO!' as you press kisses to his cheeks and forehead leaving him a bright cherry red and kiss marks all over his face. The first time that happened it left him just staring off into space blue screened but now he just blushes all over and this just might be his new favorite thing ever!

-If he ever proposes to you it's either going to be with one of those ring pops or with a gem made of the shiniest rock candy he can find.

[searchforahero]

do you ever see urself un-shipping adopted family members?

no hate btw,

nope probably not :] dicktim has dug itself a place in my heart and it is pretty solidly never leaving <3

usually when i write them they're not particularly brotherly tbqh, but i've been working on a dicktim/timives fic lately where ives is. Freaked Out TM by tim & dick LOL its not done yet but here is a section from it (under the cut)

(for context i fucked up the timeline so basically tim is living in gotham, the uncle eddie stuff is happening, jack just died, tim is going to school with ives, and dick has been in between gotham and bludhaven lately. do not think too hard about how little sense that makes)

Dick Grayson is weird, and definitely not Tim's brother. It's been about a month since Tim first left school with Dick instead of taking the bus, and Dick's been coming to pick him up once every week or two since. Tim's been kind of cagey about stuff like how they met and how they got to know each other. Ives knows that Bruce Wayne was looking out for Tim while Jack was in his coma, but he had thought that Dick had been out of town for most of that.

Ives honestly doesn't know a whole lot about Dick, other than what every Gothamite knows, an orphan adopted by philanthropist Bruce Wayne, much like his guardian, he's known to be a bit of an air-head, but left Gotham to pursue policing in Bludhaven. Other than that Ives doesn't know much.

This is the first time that Ives is actually meeting the man. He and Tim had been hanging out at his apartment (which Ives still thought was super weird, who lets their sixteen year old newly-orphaned nephew live by himself? Especially in Gotham), playing Halo and talking shit.

Ives is just about to take the win when the front door goes flying open and Dick comes crashing in, calling out "Timmm, I don’t want to stay at the manor. Can I crash here?" He freezes in the hall between the entryway and the living area, presumably because he spots Ives. Ives is pretty sure he'd been about to crash forward on the couch they're sitting on before he turned the corner and realized Tim wasn't home alone.

He straightens up and smiles at Ives, says "Hey man, you're... Ives, right? Sorry, I didn't realize Tim had a friend over. I'm Tim's brother, Dick." He sticks out a hand for Ives to shake, and Ives just accepts that he'll have to take the loss this round, so he puts down his controller and shakes Dick's outstretched hand. He has a firm grip, firmer than could probably be considered casual, and his palm is covered in calluses.

Tim scoots over so he's sitting at the end of the couch instead of the middle, and waves at Dick, greeting him with "Hey man, you want to play with us?" He turns to Ives, tilts his head as if to say 'that okay?', and what's Ives going to say, 'no'? So Dick flops down on the couch, with his back to the arm rest and his legs thrown over Tim's thighs, and grabs the third controller.

They switch to Call of Duty and Dick kind of sucks at it, and after a few rounds he tosses the controller onto the coffee table and announces "I can't get used to the buttons, you'll never make me an XBox fan Tim."

Tim turns to look at him, frowns, and says "You've gotta admit that the XBox has a cooler design, like what's the PlayStation but a big hunk of plastic? The XBox has style Dick. Style!"

"Who cares about style when the PlayStation has way more exclusives man? The XBox has Halo and..." Dick mimes checking a notebook, "And yep, says here, Halo."

"And Halo is a masterpiece."

Dick pivots, shoves Tim's shoulder, tells him "Stop making that face at me, I don't care how cute you are, I'm not buying an XBox for my apartment."

And that's... That's weird right? There's something distinctly off about the way Dick said that, about the way he called Tim cute, not like an older brother teasing his younger brother, but like someone who- Ives cuts off the thought by physically shaking his head. He's not going to go speculating on his best friend's family like a jerk, especially when Tim has already lost so much.

He tries to ignore it while they keep playing, but Dick keeps poking and prodding at Tim, now that he isn't playing he's all over him, until eventually he just straight up lays his head in Tim's lap and announces that he's taking a nap.

Ives looks at Tim for any indication that he thinks this is weird, but finds none. When Tim isn't giving the TV his laser-eyed focus, he's insulting Ives' skills or brushing a hand through Dick's hair.

Ives is relieved when his dad calls Tim's apartment and tells him it's time to head home for dinner, because with Dick in the room, even asleep, he just couldn't relax like he normally can with Tim. There's something about the man that put him off.

He tries to ignore it, he's clearly important to Tim, and that's what matters, that Tim is surrounded with loved ones and friends instead of being forced to face the enormity of what he's lost alone.

[alwaysmicado]

Callisto II - Update

Believe it or not, but after months of zero inspiration, I've written 2k words for it today 🥹. Feels great. I've also finally settled on the overall mood of this part and I think you're going to like it. There's still no end in sight, BUT I'm not dreading this fic anymore. That's a start.

Thank you for your patience & your wonderful DMs about the story & for sticking around! 🤍 Please accept this random snippet as a token of my undying love for you all (it's long lol):

[You’re in the elevator with your neighbor. He’s older and a sleaze bag. You have a soft spot for him.]

You press the lobby button again even though it’s already lit. “You okay? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

His smirk twitches, revealing something almost vulnerable. Almost. “You miss me?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Ethan. Just wanna know if I need to go back and get the Narcan.”

That earns a chuckle, hoarse and dry, but it’s something. “Relax. I’m fine. Just a rough week.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask. “‘Cause you look like you’re coming off a bender.”

“You’re worried about me,” he says, leaning closer, his grin faint but there. “Admit it.”

“I’m not worried,” you snap, but your tone lacks conviction. “It’s just… dude, you look like hammered shit. When’s the last time you even slept?”

He tries for a shrug, though it’s more like a slump against the cold metal wall. “Tuesday, maybe Wednesday? Hard to keep track.”

“It’s Friday,” you point out, your voice softer now. “You need to get your shit together.”

He leans his head back against the elevator wall, exhaling so hard you almost feel it. For a moment, you think he might actually tell you what’s going on, but then his eyes flick to your hand, and his brow creases in concern. “What happened there?”

You glance at the wrist brace, flexing your fingers instinctively. “Nothing. Just a stupid accident.”

“Stupid accident,” Ethan repeats, his voice softening just enough to catch you off guard. “You get in a fight or something?”

“No,” you say quickly, but his raised eyebrow confirms he doesn’t believe you. “It’s nothing. Don’t start.”

“Hm.” He looks you up and down, like he’s waiting for you to crack. “You wanna come over later and hang out? I got a movie lined up.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What, Buffalo ‘66?”

“If that’s what you’re into.” He snorts, sounding more like himself. “Shoulda told me sooner. You know how I live to please.”

You can’t help a half-smile, but no. Not going there. You clear your throat. “How’s your wife, Ethan?”

“She’s good, she’s good,” he sighs, casual as always. “Travelling, hitting the slopes, spending my money, getting her back blown out by some college kid. You know, the regular.”

You scoff. “Not gonna lie, that sounds pretty good. And all she has to do is stay married to you?”

He arches a brow. “You proposing, sweetheart?”

“Nah, I’d be a terrible trophy wife. I’d torch your suits the first time I found your secretary’s lipstick on your shirt. And key your dumb car. And step on your balls.”

“Keep talking dirty to me like that and I’ll drive us straight to the courthouse, baby,” he drawls, a little more life in his voice. 

You roll your eyes but your lips twitch into a reluctant smile. “You always know how to cheer me up, you know that?”

He tilts his head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod and furrow your brow. “It’s funny, I talk to you for a minute and I realize that maybe my dumpster fire of a life isn’t that bad. Like, it could be worse.”

He gives a dry chuckle. “You’re welcome, I guess.” He notices your injured hand again, concern flickering across his tired features. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” you say exasperatedly. “Never been better.”

He eyes you carefully, his expression unexpectedly gentle. “You’re too young to have that look on your face.”

You bristle. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about life being far too short to spend it being unhappy,” he says, his eyes not leaving yours. “Trust me.”

“Like I’m gonna take advice from you,” you say, crossing your arms as your pulse does that weird stutter.

Ethan offers a vague smile, and a muscle in his jaw tightens beneath the bruise. “I’m not saying you should,” he murmurs. “Just wish someone had told me that a long time ago, that’s all.”

Series Masterlist • Main Masterlist • Inbox • AO3

Let me know if you want to be tagged! ♡

[rebouks]

It's been a while since I read your story and sadly I come here today as a hater: I'm afraid you're not cooking with this romance storyline with Robin. Seeing him kiss Aster was the weirdest thing because he's the most asexual character I've seen in a while. You joked how people didn't believe Robin would get a smooch but it's still not believable, at least not to me. Sorry, but I'm not eating what you're serving. I hope you don't take this badly. But if you do, you have the right to kill me.

There's also something that gave me pause: the reveal that Penny cheated on Levi once and will likely do it again, and probably with Jacob since she has a crush on him.

I just can't see Jacob entertaining Penny. First, Jacob would never accept Levi's sloppy seconds. And second, I think Jacob has an arrogant side that would clash with Penny's attitude of thinking highly of herself. "I'm too good for you" is what I see coming from him regarding her. He's a womaniser but he has taste, and Penny is rotten to the bone like Victoria. And because they're teenagers, Jacob ridiculing Penny as an indirect jab towards Levi would be so realistically petty. There's nothing quite like hitting your enemies from all angles. I'm sure Bruno taught him that. And with Levi being such a doormat, it seems it'll take somebody else to put that girl in her place and knock her down a few pegs.

And Penny's reaction to being rejected for the first time would be a sight. It's what she deserves.

And speaking of Bruno, he must come back! Ivan and Francesca are cute I guess but Brivan is still the 5-star dish and I like the spice Bruno brings to your story. Imagine if Francesca's crazy ex turns out to be an actual problem and Ivan had the bright idea of hitting up Bruno when he realised he couldn't handle the guy? "We split because I wanted to return to this life and you didn't, but now you come here asking the mafia to get involved in your life again so we can help you sort out a guy...? You've lost your mind. You and your woman just need to go to the police like everyone else with an abusive partner. Now get out." but then think twice when he meets the guy in question when he contacts Bruno's family to buy an illegal firearm from them, babbling how he's going to "fix" his ex's new boyfriend and get her and his son back. Initially, he'd be hurt Ivan only sought him for the sake of his new girlfriend, but Bruno will be damned if anything happened to the man who owns his heart and their little daughter. And we know he doesn't mind getting his hands dirty, huh? :3c

Hmmmm maybe you're not wrong to refuse what I'm serving! Maybe it was made in a shitty diner by a jaded cook who didn't wash their hands and thought rat droppings were sprinkles?? FFFFFFF.. no but I get it, Robin and Levi's plan kinda sucked from the get go and him kissing Aster like that was pretty uncharacteristic.. but alas he is a teenage boy with bad decision making skills and false bravado from his little gift, so here we are.

I will say that he's definitely not asexual tho and if I have, I didn't mean to give off that vibe for him.. believe me, most of these teens, including Robin, are thinking and (sometimes) acting on thoughts right now, wink wonk (hell, I know I was at that age) but it's not something I particularly feel like being too graphic about since they're still teens y'know? I've mostly just implied or alluded to such things when necessary, so my bad if that's not coming off too well, but rather that than be too crass.

I may have joked about Penny cheating on Levi with Jacob, and she definitely would if given the chance, but I think you're right that Jacob wouldn't be interested in her, she's far too high maintenance for him and he'd totally be against the idea of touching Levi's seconds like.. no thx! 🫣 I would love to see her try and get shot down for sure tho, that'd be hilarious!! Someone needs to take her down a peg or two one day! Part of me hopes it IS Levi who does so, but we'll have to see.

Hmmm hmmm hm.. Bruno! As much as I still love Brivan I don't think there's even a slight chance Ivan would ever go to him for help, especially since he went back to that life, even if he thought it'd help. He's so against everything it stands for.. it almost took his life, Oscar's in a roundabout way, Cookie's?! and it DID suck Bruno back in, he's waaay too stubborn and proud as well like, Bruno fucking left him for THAT? Are you kidding??? Fuck crawling back to him for ANYTHING, nope. he'd never! Now, that's not to say Bruno wouldn't jump in without Ivan's permission but (and I'll let you off for this cos we don't know Lee too well) he's way too much of a coward to take matters into his own hands like that. He's just not dealing with losing Frankie/Sawyer in a very healthy way, hence the bullshit spewing from his mouth. He's probably asleep on the job or some shit atm, not buying firearms from Kaden n' co. in Oasis Springs, however exciting that may be.

All that being said, I hope you still like the direction I go with all these threads, because they ARE all going somewhere. We're just dealing with people who don't always make the best decisions at the end of the day and that's what makes this stuff interesting to me! We don't always have to like the path or the choices these guys make but hopefully they all learn something along the way! Or not, I guess? That's also fun sometimes lmao 🤸‍♀️

[itsmespicaa]

Could you recommend lambo twins fanfics? Specifically ones that are sunstreaker centric? Sunstreaker barely appears in media and ppl barely write about him and I neeeed sunstreaker content to consume

Oh boy...here we go *cracks knuckles* there's quite a few (not as many as other chars obviously), but I tried my best to link the ones that I really enjoyed and recommend you read too!

I'll try to sort them into categories, and I'll also tag the Sunstreaker-centric ones with * and the twins-centric one ** for easy perusal :) Sideswipe-centric will have no stars, but I still recommend you to read them anyway bc they're really good (and Sunny is there most of the times)! Starting with—

My Top 6:

Misaligned Gemini by Anonymous**

This one's a classic. Set in IDW 2019 (or IDW 2) where the twins have a completely different origin, this one takes you for such a crazy ride from start to finish and will have you holding on for dear life. I definitely cried a lot reading this lol it's that good. Easily one of the best Lambo twins-centric fics out there (and the longest one too to date).

Lifeline by Kattli (Kathrine)*

Set in the IDW-verse. One of my personal favorites as well as my fav interpretation of the twins' messy and complicated relationship in IDW. Canon-divergence in the best way possible.

Sideswipe's Secret Vacation Spot by BalloonArcade**

AU where the twins actually joined the Cons (one of my fav AUs for sure). Has by far my FAVORITE interpretation of Sunstreaker and one that definitely affected my own take of his character. The twins' dynamic here is *chef's kiss* so good. I adore them so much here.

No Rest for the Wicked by fuzipenguin*

Absolutely delectable 6k joyride with Sunstreaker pretty much murdering his way out of the enemy's base like the utterly ruthless warrior that he is <3 you love to see it!!!!

Snap, Crackle, Pop by SergeantCookie

I was so pleasantly surprised by how amazingly-written this fic was??? Like- the blend of comedy and realism feels so natural especially from Sideswipe's POV. Definitely one of my fav Sides-centric fics, and the other characters are an absolute hoot LOL it's so SO good from start to finish.

Followers by Bibliotecaria_D**

This one...completely caught me off-guard. An utterly different take of the twins' relationship in IDW (and in general, really) that I needed a whole day to digest what I just read because it was just- so raw and real and painful, but I think that's the beauty of it. Might not be everyone's cup of tea tho so here's my warning (bc the writer isn't a fan of fanon!Lambo twins), but I still recommend people (esp their fans) to read it to see a different perspective of the twins' dynamic.

Others, also really good:

and when i got to st peter's gate, i told the keeper that i'm not the one who needs to make amends by rosesscythes

IDW again, this time from Sideswipe's perspective before he died. It healed something in me to read this, so maybe it might heal you too :")

Little Brother by pipermca*

Another IDW fic, this time from Sunstreaker's POV post-canon. Another cathartic fic that feels like a balm after what happened in canon.

Poker Face by SSSSEEEEVVVVEEEENNNN*

A deep dive into Sunstreaker's psyche in the face of Smokescreen and it's so. SO good omg. You can see everything play out in real time from Sunstreaker's POV while at the same time you can tell he's so unreliable and so, so bad at social cues that it was painful to watch. But everything is from HIS view so he MUST be right...right?

Unorthodox Protection by FiftyShadesOfMetal

Another one of Sideswipe's shenanigans that...went a bit more south that he intended? Sunstreaker cameos a bit later but the true star of the show is the human inside of Sideswipe-- wait what?!

Loyalty by BalloonArcade

Prowl/Sideswipe with a substantial focus on the twins' relationship in IDW on the side. I really liked this take of the twins and what made them that way here.

Sunshine, Roses, & Other Treacherous Things by jukeboxes**

Incomplete but the first 3 chapters are so compelling that you can't help but desperately want to know how it ends.

Crack(ed) Me Up by Kattli (Kathrine)**

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are unfortunately stuck with the bots they try to kill the most...whoops. Really funny and you get to enjoy seeing their (mostly Sunny's) suffering

In the Dust by Hours_Gone_By

Msytery fic, spooky-tastic. The twins aren't the sole focus here, but the fic is so good that you'd be too invested in what's happening to notice (or if you're like me, you do notice every time they interact but it won't detract from the story itself ahaha). But they are there and I'm not one to be picky, so you really don't wanna pass this one up.

The City by Hours_Gone_By**

Spooky-fic, reaally well written (this writer has a talent with writing horror I swear), keeps you at the edge of your seat through the whole thing and wanting nothing more than for them to go--

Bayverse:

Mess With the Bull by CaptainCougar**

A classic take of Sunstreaker's arrival during the period where Cemetery Wind was hunting down all the remaining Cybertronians. Really nicely written and satisfying to read.

Solar Eclipse by SeaSpectre160**

My favorite take on Sunstreaker's arrival on Earth with all the chaos and squishy human-hating on Sunny's side. You love to see it.

Snake Eyes by snarechan

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker face a familiar foe, with a twist. I love the way they're written here.

AUs:

All The Friendly Ghosts by Anonymous**

Something's just not right about Sideswipe, and--it's not what you think it is. Really satisfying build up and payoff. I adore the writing style for it too.

Search & Rescue by sssunstreakerrr

Shattered Glass at last!!! It's sadly incomplete but the sheer quality of the available chapter and the premise makes it so so worth reading anyway.

Beneath the Vaulted Heights by Magnusoftheward**

I don't want to spoil anything bc it's best read going in blind so...just keep reading. I promise you it's worth it :D I really love the eeriness and confusion and just- the overall vibe of the fic. It's so good gah-

Abandoned by Hours_Gone_By

Horror fic, so so good. You can feel the eerieness of the place from the character's perspective. Ugh. Literally kept me at the edge of my seat the whole time. Other characters are also there!

Geminus by postapocalyptic_cryptic*

Pacific Rim AU. The twins are co-pilots. Really well-written fic! :D Bring your tissues

A Flash of Gold by pipermca**

Another Pacific Rim AU with human!Sideswipe. Where's Sunstreaker you ask? Well...

Pure Silliness:

Exothermic by SergeantCookie

I cackled from start to finish, it's that good LOL. If you need a good laugh, pls go read this. Also connected to "Snap, Crackle, Pop" by the same author.

How to Save the World in 8 Minutes and 3 Seconds by BalloonArcade

Pure chaos written in such an in-character way, poor Prowl lmaooo

In Which Sideswipe was Bored with a Board by a Boar While Bored by murtlewikisam

An absolute hoot omg I couldn't stop my head from going ????? the whole time XD

Aaand that's all for now! I'm sure I've missed some, but these are some of the ones that I already have in my bookmarks :D Hope you have a good (or wonderfully painful) time reading them!! And let me know which one you like the most if you do read them hahha

[annunen]

NHLWAM S12 E7: Niko Mikkola & Eetu Luostarinen

I translated the highlights of the video for any florida finns fans to enjoy.

TLDR: the finns love chirping each other and Lundy needs a babysitter.

Manninen and Putkonen are the NHLWAM hosts.

Under the cut <3

Manninen: We've got two Finnish Fort Lauderdale locals here. Niko Mikkola, new guy, and Eetu Luostarinen, who's already one of the vets. So what's up?

Mikkola: Nothing bad, getting to know new places and the sun shines. Great people here.

Luostarinen: It's always fun to get more finns here. Always welcome.

Manninen: Niko, how would you describe Eetu as a person and a teammate?

Mikkola: He's a chill Oulu guy. Chill company, easy to hang out with him, he gets along with everyone. Really nice.

Manninen: Do you agree?

Luostarinen: Sure, i'll take what i'm given.

Manninen: Counterquestion for you.

Luostarinen: We've known each other pretty long. He's one of those Savo guys, a little twisted like they all are. But there's only great guys here, like i said, so it's been easy to come here.

Manninen: You got pretty lucky, your training center moved from the middle of nowhere (lit. horse ass) to the neighbor. You could bike there, have you ever done that?

Mikkola: I don't have a bike but i've been planning to buy one. It's 5 minutes away so it would be pretty nice to bike there.

Manninen: Or an electric scooter! Has anyone ever come with one?

Mikkola: No, but Kaapo Kakko always used one in NYC. I'd walk and he'd drive past me.

Luostarinen: I haven't biked there either but some guys have electric bikes. And golf carts, pretty cool that you can come to the rink with a golf cart.

Manninen: Now that's style!

-----

Manninen: I asked "Lunkka" Lundell this same question, now i want to ask you Eetu too. Looking at your points, this season hasn't been as good as the last. The big crowds only look at points, they're thinking "what's up with Eetu, he hasn't scored points". So what do YOU think, has this season actually been worse than the last, or have you actually gone forward as a player?

Luostarinen: I wouldn't say it's been worse than last season, pretty equal. Just haven't had those successes. There's also a lot happening in the background, in the game. I play a lot shorthanded too, i've got to take credit for that. If i can't get confidence from points, i have to find it somewhere else in the small things.

Manninen: Are the points so important? I don't remember if you lead the league right now, but as a team you're playing really well.

Luostarinen: It's a team game, if your team is doing well, you're doing something right, and you have to be happy about that. But if i have less points than Mikkola, that's when i should be worried.

Mikkola: Why am I suddenly being attacked?

Putkonen: God damn, throwing you under the boat, right there under that Catamaran.

Manninen: What about you Niko, do you ever set - even though you're known as a defensive brush, let's not say broom (that's Hakanpää's "nickname") - do you set some personal goals for points when starting the season?

Mikkola: Defensive brush, i'll take that. Good name. I don't really set any goals for points. The beginning of the season was pretty wild for me, but now i've returned to a normal phase. Probably getting close to 30 straight pointless games now.

Luostarinen: Yeah, early in the season they were throwing the nickname "Niko Norris" around there.

Putkola: You were on a phase for 80 points.

Mikkola: It was crazy, but now we're back to the roots. You can't only get confidence from points. You need some guys who play shorthanded, keep the own net clear. Take some confidence from those.

-----

(Someone walks by with a dog.)

Putkonen: Cool dog. How's your dog doing?

Luostarinen: Yeah, we have a new one in the family - cavapoo, it's a cavalier poodle mix. And then we have Rose, she's a little over 4 years old now.

Putkonen: Who in your team would you not let dogsit your dogs?

Luostarinen: Lunkka. Even if we speak the same language, i wouldn't trust him with them.

Manninen: Is Lunkka your team's little rascal?

Luostarinen: He is, a little. You need to watch what he's doing sometimes.

Mikkola: But he's so young still.

Manninen: You're allowed to be careless when you're young. We've been careless too.

Putkonen: ...older too.

-----

Putkonen: Roberto Luongo was in the net at your practice. He still catches pretty well.

Mikkola: Yeah. I've said that he'd only need one training camp and he could play an NHL game again. I can't score on him either.

Luostarinen: Best possible EBUG.

-----

Putkonen: Let's take some fan questions. Does Sasha "whip" (reprimand) you?

Luostarinen: No, just constructive criticism.

Mikkola: He's flicked me a couple times with a video where I ice the puck or something. More as a joke. He doesn't really "whip" (reprimand) me.

Manninen: But he gives that to Lunkka!

Mikkola: Lunkka is "in his teeth" a little. In a good way.

Putkonen: Yeah, he was already the last time we visited. Gave him an earful from some celly, telling him "don't jump to the glass, only juniors celly like that".

-----

[monocle-teacup]

Should Earthspark been a sequel instead of a standalone? I don’t see anyone discussing this.

In ES, we got Optimus who is the same as in G1, Spike Witwicky exists (or he’s a nobody), we don’t know how they got to Earth or how the fight began on Earth, did they have selected allies, who died, what characters exist in this continuity, what happened during the war on Earth that could play a significant role in the post-war, what concepts exists?? A lot of the story is generalized. Nothing interesting, just ‘post-war inspired by G1; make it vague, fill the minor gaps, add some changes and let the imagination fill in the rest’. I could be wrong. But I love that they borrowed some IDW ideas.

New audiences are not going to understand what’s going on and not get into this story. Only fans can watch this with their existing knowledge from other continuities. Watching a standalone show as a fan kinda feels… unfulfilling, empty, I don’t how else to say it. I’m glad it’s a new idea but it’s less satisfying. We don’t know who or what the iconic characters (Autobots and Decepticons) are in this setting, they have smaller roles and don’t have much depth. Especially for new viewers.

IMO, ES should be separate from G1. Even if it was a sequel, it wouldn't save the show from writing quality issues which I'll get to later.

From what I've seen on other sites like tfw2005 and reddit, one of the only times ES gets brought up is when a person asks if it's a sequel to G1. It doesn't help how much G1 fan service ES has. While it's neat long time fans can have a "I understood that reference!" moment, there are also TF fans that are sick of the G1 pandering and want something new. ES was supposed to be that, but then it added the fan service like it knew some people would immediately reject the show because it strayed too much from the typical TF formula. It's pretty telling that ES S2 pretty much scrapped everything from S1 to the point that one of the staff made a tweet about it:

Budget and time constraints are most likely a factor for how how vague things are in ES. However, most of the vagueness feels intentional because the writing quality wasn't up the challenge of doing actual nuance. It'd be hard to really make the Cons and Megatron sympathetic if they were shown being utter bastards like most of them were in G1 and especially in IDW. The writing across all seasons of ES operates on the assumption/hope that the audience won't question anything.

And I know people are probably sick of me bringing this up, but the show's insistence with focusing on the Maltos as well as the way they're written is a huge reason why ES never realized its full potential. How are you supposed to look at the effects of war when the main humans behave like there wasn't a war most of the time? Wanna see more of the actual TF characters doing something? Too bad, this is the Robby and Mo Show. Sure, the TFs do get some time to shine, but they ultimately take a backseat to Robby and Mo. The Terrans were supposed to be a new subspecies of TF, but being a Malto is the most important thing.

So many people like to cite Nightshade as being THE reason ES failed when the reality is that the show's overall writing turned a lot of people away. It being a G1 sequel might've made more viewers stick around longer, but nostalgia can only get you so far.

If the writing was better in S1, I'm 100% certain that ES would've been one of my favorite TF series as well as one of my favorite cartoons in general.

[rei-ismyname]

This is good stuff. As much as I dislike Doylist explanations for things like this, I think it has to at least be considered that none of them were intended to be clones - and the retcon, while pretty slick, possibly leaves a hole or two for close readers.

Emma says in this same issue that the entire crew of the Agnew was doing the red triangle protocol. That doesn't preclude them all from being clones, but I think it makes it more likely.

Here's the thing - does he actually need a witness? I'd assume ORCHIS would have ways of verifying what was happening - if 'humanity's last hope' suddenly self destructing isn't proof enough for them. Same goes for proving it to a court etc, though he implies that he admitted to it, then we saw him give himself up. You'd think he'd want to avoid forensics of any kind too, as the deeper people dig the more likely his web of lies is to unravel. Creating people out of nothing, especially military officers, is pretty much impossible these days. I'm not sure which legal persons he's charged with killing, though destroying the Agnew would be enough.

I read it as Charles expecting blind Scott's trust, playing on their history together, and badly misreading the room. He wanted it both ways, but Scott flat out refused and Charles didn't explain further, except for 'making him watch.' Uh huh.

Totally agree that it's a ridiculous plan with zero upside. He infiltrated ORCHIS to stop Enigma - a necessity. I feel like he went deep on sunk costs based on his guilt instead of any strategic concerns, and probably never quite got out of his post-Gala mindset. Growing a beard on Krakoa and waiting to die, thinking he'd just killed 250K mutants. As soon as Sinister reveals himself he's ready to jump off the ledge to take Sinister out. Going to shoot Moira as a child. Actually shooting all his allies.

He'd given up one way or another and cooked up this martyr plan that sounded a lot better on paper. As he tells Sally, 'as long as I'm in here my children have a chance.' He was even willing to let Logan kill him, which doesn't help anyone. I think Mags has him pegged (because he has the inclination too, as does Logan) - 'no more martyrs.'

Probably not related but did the X-Men even have a softball field? I can only remember a baseball field. Not sure if that's meaningful, or a mistake Gerry Duggan made during the time crunch.

It's Scott that says it, too. Probably a mistake, or I'm wrong.

I'm not sure if "made me watch" is meant literally, as Scott is in the area and physically watched it go down alongside the rest of his space team. Due to her own omnipitence I think Jean knows but is refusing to indulge Xavier. Even if the FTA Infinity comic reveal is a retcon, the conversation at the end of X-Men #35 still works to convey that she knows his shit and is refusing to step in for him. That said I got the impression that he meant it when he admonishes himself for trying to explain himself and leaving the clues. He spends most of the Forever and RoPX going 'oh they're better off without me :( '. This comes off as pushing them to cut him off rather than putting in the work to improve. It also means he's still controlling why it's happening, rather than facing the consequences of his unplanned fuck ups.

Maybe it's just me, and I admit that I'm always inclined to read Xavier's actions in the worst light possible, but I actually do think it's literal.

If you look at the pages from Fall of the House of X #4:

So we have Xavier pulling Scott into a psychic mindscape that resembles the old mansion.

Scott, admittedly, is pretty angry about the whole "Did you join Orchis" thing.

Then we get this:

Tangentially, notice the commander? I don't think he's a clone. The others, sure. But that guy is talking, responding emotionally, and freaked the fuck out.

They show him again in another flashback somewhere else but I've been unable to find it.

Unless the series addresses it at some point, I'm always going to kind of believe Xavier murdered that guy.

So then we get this:

Scott's not looking at the window when it explodes. He's clutching his head and yelling at Xavier to stay out of it.

I guess it's kind of ambiguous, but the way I'm reading the panels, Scott didn't just see the ship blow up from space in the last panel. I think he saw what we saw in the previous page.

Maybe Xavier didn't mean to do it*, but to ME, it looks like Xavier somehow took him along when he commanded the clones to act.

Scott would have the right to be furious either way, but I did read this as literal. (*And honestly, purposeful. Though I'm not sure what Xavier thought he was gaining there.)

--

As for Jean, I do think you're probably right that she knows. But I think that she's not going to get involved until or unless he asks her directly. Which would involve Xavier having one of those conversations that he really doesn't want to have.

But I will try to be fairer to Xavier, I think he has conflicted impulses. I do think on some level, he thinks he's sitting in Graymalkin to save them. And I think that he does believe not telling them is the best option.

But that's the problem with Xavier. He does a lot of very cruel things for what he thinks are very good reasons.

[disposal-blueeee]

from this thing lolz

ty to @cherry-207 for the idea !! XPP

vargas by zarla-s

[cluescorner]

I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc