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#Sergeant Davis
cloned-soldier · 2 years
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Draw the Squad - Fury - Sergeant Edition
So I was looking up something because of a Fast and Furious Meme WELL and apparently Binkowski’s Actor was in one of the movies for a very short time.
He was an asshole driver in a stock car race or something and killed someone so I thought: “Jup. I can imagine Binkowski as a VERY bad and chaotic driver who causes accidents may or may not on purpose.”
Fast and Furious ineed.
DTS Base:
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pedroam-bang · 5 months
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Full Metal Jacket (1987)
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papermoonloveslucy · 2 years
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BALL & THE BUTCHERS!
The Butchers & Meat Markets of the Lucyverse
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Before supermarkets and online ordering, consumers visited local buthers and meat markets to shop.  Here’s a look at the butchers of the Lucyverse!
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Lucille Ball had a huge imagination when she was a child in Jamestown NY. In order to attempt to control her daughter, her mother made a deal with the local butcher for Lucy to run up and down the street between his shop and their home. It was in his butcher shop that Lucille first made her entertainment debut. In her autobiography, Ball shares details of her first performance on the butcher's counter. Lucy loved to dance and twirl for them, as well as giving her rendition of a jumping frog. She would stick her tongue out and croak. Customers would give her some pennies or a sweet treat to show their appreciation. 
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In 1942 Lucille Ball was the subject of a newspaper article titled “Conversation in the Kitchen” by Susan Thrift. The article details how the wartime homemaker can save money and conserve resources.
“If you have a freezing unit in your refrigerator, you can buy meat for the week. You’ve probably learned that you can depend much on a reliable butcher and standard brands. For the rest, remember what your mother taught you about the purchase of meat:”
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“Valentine’s Day” (1949)
Katie the Maid (Ruth Perrot), is sweet on Mr. Dabney the butcher (Hans Conried), and Liz (Lucille Ball) offers to help. But when Liz's Valentine to her favorite husband gets switched with her check to pay the butcher's bill, Mr. Dabney gets the wrong idea.
Katie says she has a written a Valentine poem for Mr. Dabney the butcher. Liz calls him “old heavy thumbs”.    
KATIE: “Some people may have better beef, but his liver’s good. And no one has oxtails and pig’s feet like him!”
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Mr. Dabney reads the Valentine aloud:
“If you’ll be mine, then I’ll be thyne. You set my heart a-quiver. Say you’ll be my Valentine, And send two pounds of liver.”
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Hans Conreid also played Mr. Dabney the butcher in “Overweight” (1949) where a dieting weigh-in is held at his butcher shop.
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Mr. Dabney returns in “Reminiscing” (1949), a re-dramatization of “Valentine’s Day” as part of a “My Favorite Husband” retrospective episode. 
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When the "Valentine’s Day” script was made for television in 1952 in “Lucy Plays Cupid”, Mr. Dabney the butcher, played by Hans Conried, became Mr. Ritter, a grocer, played by Edward Everett Horton. 
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“The Freezer” (1952)
Hoping to save money, Lucy and Ethel purchases a walk-in freezer from Ethel’s Uncle Oscar, a butcher.  When Lucy hears Ethel say that he has a “big cold chest,” Lucy drily replies, “Why don’t you knit him a sweater?”   
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After buying the freezer, they buy the meat to fill it at 69 cents a pound. Lucy over-orders two sides of beef from Johnson’s Meat Packing, a wholesale butcher. Lucy tells Ricky that bacon costs 75 cents a pound. The girls end up ordering 700 pounds of meat for a total of $483!  Lucy immediately demands they take it back. 
DELIVERY MAN: “Look, ladies, even if you defrosted it, pasted it back together and taught it to walk, I couldn’t take it back!” 
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To shift some of the meat, Lucy and other stake out the local butcher shop, stashing the meat in a baby stroller. 
LUCY (to a customer): “Are you interested in some high-class beef? Are you tired of paying high prices? Do you want a bargain? Tell you what I'm gonna do. I got sirloin, tenderloin T-bone, rump, pot roast, chuck roast, oxtail stump.”
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Fred Aldrich plays the butcher who is none too happy about Lucy and Ethel poaching his customers.    
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A December 1952 Philip Morris cartoon ad starts with the butcher delivering a side of beef to Lucy and Ethel, inspired by “The Freezer”.
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“Together for Christmas” (1962)
The holiday episode opens with Lucy and Viv at the butcher shop, where Ernie the butcher (Joe Mell) is wrapping up Lucy’s Christmas turkey, even though Viv's family traditionally has a goose. 
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Ernie the butcher jokingly suggests stuffing the turkey with a goose!  
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“Lucy and the Plumber” (1964)
Lucy’s first talent discovery was made in Mr. Krause’s butcher shop when she saw his German Shepard Beauty “howl like the Beatles” when Mr. Krause (Tom G. Linder) played the harmonica. 
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”Lucy and the Great Bank Robbery” (1964)
Reading The Danfield Tribune, Viv notes that Oscar the butcher has a special on rump roast. This may be a throwback to Ethel Mertz’s Uncle Oscar the butcher. 
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“Lucy Gets Her Maid” (1965)
When Lucy and Viv take jobs as maids for a wealthy philanthopist, they realize that they not only have to prepare and serve the meals, but they have to act as their own butcher, too!
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“Lucy and the Old Mansion” (1965)
A wrong number on the telephone keeps trying to reach Irving's Meat Market.
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“Lucy Meets Mickey Rooney” (1966)
The backdrop for the Charlie Chaplin sketch features a sign for a market that has “Low Prices on Meat’s”.  The grammatically incorrect possessive apostrophe is particularly odd. By that logic, the episode should be titled “Lucy Meet’s Mickey Rooney”! 
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“Someone’s on the Ski Lift with Dinah” (1971)
Harry feels entitled to approach Dinah Shore because his butcher’s cousin’s son’s best friend is engaged to her manicurist.
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“Mary Jane’s Boyfriend” (1974)
Mary Jane’s boyfriend of the title owns a meat market. His name is Walter Butley (Cliff Norton). Harry calls Walter “meathead” because when he walked in the door, Lucy had just plopped a package of ground round on his head.
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Possibly the most famous butcher on television was Sam Franklin, played by Allan Melvin on “The Brady Bunch.”  Desi Arnaz Jr. appeared on the show in 1970, although Melvin did not appear on that episode. Also, Eve Plumb (Jan Brady) played Lucy Carter’s niece on a 1972 episode of “Here’s Lucy.” 
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Melvin appeared with Lucille Ball in a 1959 episode of “Sergeant Bilko” (aka “The Phil Silvers Show”) titled “Bilko and the Ape Man.” Melvin also appeared in several Desilu series: “Vacation Playhouse”, “The Danny Thomas Show,” “The Joey Bishop Show,” “The Dick Van Dyke Show,” “The Andy Griffith Show,” “Gomer Pyle U.S.M.C.,” “Mayberry R.F.D.” 
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reppyy · 2 years
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duranduratulsa · 4 months
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Now showing on DuranDuranTulsa's Television 📺 Showcase...The Brady Bunch: Sergeant Emma (1972) on classic DVD 📀! #tv #television #comedy #sitcom #thebradybunch #sergeantemma #RobertReed #riprobertreed #FlorenceHenderson #RIPFlorenceHenderson #AnnBDavis #ripannbdavis #maureenmccormick #eveplumb #SusanOlsen #BarryWilliams #ChristopherKnight #mikelookinland #70s #dvd #durandurantulsa #durandurantulsastelevisionshowcase
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denimbex1986 · 10 months
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'As Doctor Who returns with its 60th anniversary specials, we've seen more alien creatures crash-land onto our screens, including the epic Wrarth Warriors.
The creatures, originally created by Dave Gibbons and Pat Mills for a Doctor Who Weekly comic strip, were officially brought to life on screen by various dedicated creature actors for The Star Beast, including Robert Strange, who played the lead Wrarth Warrior, Sergeant Zogroth.
Getting into character was no easy feat though – it took hours of rehearsal time to perfect the tiny details of the movement, plus squeezing into a heavy costume – and balancing on stilts the whole time.
Exclusively speaking to RadioTimes.com, Strange explains: "I think it was such a clever idea to have a storyline that was from one of the original classic comics from 1980 as the storyline, because it has that sense of honouring the old while bringing in this new era. So I think it was a really exciting place to start.
"I didn't know the comic before. But as soon as I found out what I was doing and read the script, I went and tracked it down and ordered it, and it's just so magical."
Strange particularly loved how the episode plays with perception – while The Meep (voiced by Miriam Margolyes) initially seems innocent, its true menacing nature is later revealed. The Wrarth Warriors, on the other hand, look a little terrifying – but end up being respectful and regimented creatures.
He adds: "I wanted to bring that up, that these quite fearsome military-based beings, they attack this house and destroy it in quite a regimented manner. I think the voice as well, it's very kind of gruff and aggressive. But then when you hear them speak later, they actually then suddenly have this quite refined classic military lead commander style of speaking that's actually very polite and very respectful.
"And so to have that, alongside the physicality of them, which we worked on a lot with Paul Kasey, who is the resident Doctor Who creature movement director. So we workshopped with Paul a lot – A: how to just walk in stilts without falling over, but what kind of physicality we wanted to bring to them.
"We settled on, I think the phrase we used was 'predatory flamingo with an insectoid twitch.' That was the descriptor we came up with. So we have these stalking legs like flamingos, and these twitches, like a praying mantis style."
As with everything on Doctor Who, showrunner Russell T Davies had crucial input.
"He's such a visionary so he has eyes everywhere and a dealing in every part of his creations. So I know he was very involved in the design, because I think originally there were plans to maybe change the design of the Wrarth and the Meep from what was drawn in the comic, but I think Russell brought it right back to what Pat and Dave wrote and drew in the original comic, which I think is kind of magical.
"And then a lot of the development of the movement was done with Paul... so he's in our ear all the time. On set, in rehearsal, and then live in front of the camera, he is relaying information from Russell, from Rachel [Talalay], the director, from all sorts of people, right to our ear to say, 'Bring back a bit more of that twitch, turn yourself this way, keep the gun up, keep moving the right direction,' and things like that.
"So he's kind of a port of call middle person for relaying all the information from all the powers that be right to us to keep it looking exactly how they wanted it to look."
The Wrarth are important throughout the episode – but perhaps their most memorable scene is the 'court' scene in the carpark with David Tennant's Doctor and Catherine Tate's Donna Noble.
"That scene is one of my favourites, it's so brilliant. It was so much fun to do. It was probably one of the most challenging scenes to film ever, in terms of all the stuff I've done, because creature suits are always quite full-on physically, of course.
"So we're on the stilts, you can't really stand still in these stilts, because they're curved at the bottom but obviously, for close-ups, you need to stay on your marks and it's a lot of work to stay still. We can't see, it's very heavy, you've got no hands, you're physically doing all of that.
"And then at the same time, we have Paul in our ear giving us guidance so that we're hitting the marks and looking in the right direction. And then we're also doing the dialogue with David Tennant and Catherine Tate, which is kind of iconic to be working with them and doing this incredible scene with them, and watching them bring these characters back to life, and they're just so brilliant to watch. And everything that they do with these characters, it was fascinating to watch for myself personally – they're such refined comedy actors and they're such physical actors as well."
It's no secret that Doctor Who has a shiny new budget to go along with its new era due to a new deal with Disney Plus. But, for Strange, it's crucial that the show still embraces practical effects.
"I'm a little bit biased, obviously, because I've spent 10 years making a career out of it. But to me, I think it's vital. And I think, technology in both realms, whether we're talking practical effects or VFX and CGI, there's such exciting things in both corners. So both are incredibly exciting.
"[But] I think particularly for Doctor Who, there's something about the magic of it, that it has to be practical effects. That's what it's always been, you know, from the Daleks and before. Again, in my opinion, this new episode and this new era coming, even though there's a new budget, and it's a new era, and it's 2023, and there's new technology, it's kept a sense of that real Doctor Who charm."'
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xxanaduwrites · 2 months
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ a residue series installment ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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honey, are you comin’?
previous part: sweet talkin’ | from the hive: session 1
✎ elementary-teacher!reader (miss.honey) x biker!benny 🏍️
summary: in which benny finds honey again. this time near a honeycomb, hopin’ for a taste on the road ;) (p.s.: if you were wonderin’, yes — the title of this was so inspired by måneskin)
warnings: not much of anything besides some minor talks of cruelty towards children, peeps being judgmental as hell, & smoking. they’re subtly flirting here basically. it’s cute! that’s really it. x
author’s note: oh my goodness! you have no idea how STUNNED i’ve been by all the love miss.honey!benny have been getting so far. fully was not expecting this. deadass wrote sweet talkin’ for fun. no thoughts, head empty type beat. just wanted to thank you honeys so so much. i can’t thank ya enough i fear! i literally still can’t wrap my head around this, but i love you all sm & can’t wait to share more with you! 🍯🐝🫶
word count: 2.7k
💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋
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Another unbearable wave of heat managed to remain the very next day. Your students squirming against their metal chairs, antsy as ever for a reprieve. And so were you too. Thankfully, it just so happened to be your turn as fellow recess monitor with one or your fellow co-workers, Miss. Margie. Marge just so happened to be a newly breaded fresh faced teacher just like yourself. You enjoyed her company, more so than the older teachers who were rather cruel to the students. Especially when they did something wrong. Marge wasn’t cruel so to speak but she was a tough cookie, putting her foot down when needed. You two as a duo were rather perfect for the school grounds. You as the comfort go to when a knee was scraped, and Marge as the tough love go to when a particular student needed a stern talking to.
You worked well together, and it showed. Your relief was rather prominent when you stepped out the back door near the playground. An immediate swarm of giggles and chatter from small voices buzzed about, and you couldn’t help but smile as you adjusted your eyes to the sun, protected under your heart shaped sunnies. It didn’t take you long to find Marge who was already planted near the monkey bars with her arms crossed over her chest like a drill sergeant. Considering her father’s status as a war vet, by no means was it shocking to you or anyone else for that matter to see her in such a state.
“Hi Margie,” you greeted her once materialized next to her. “How’s it goin’?”
Margie's clear concentration dropped at the sound of your voice. “Oh no wonder,” she commented without looking at you. Her brows shot up in genuine intrigue.
Your honey coated lips parted in confusion instantly. “Huh?”
“Your three o’clock, Hun.” Margie tilted her head to the right subtly, directing you to her line of sight. A sight that made your heart curl into itself in a warm beat. Right behind those chain-linked fences that kept the kids contained was Uncle Benny. Yet, today his status as Uncle appeared to be rather amiss. Instead of Johnny’s car flanked near the curb, he was leaning against a neat Harley Davidson. The same one you saw him on that mornin’. You figured he was dropping off the girls or somethin’, but your curiosity got the better of you when you saw Mrs. Davis with them instead.
Now in the no parking zone, he stood out like the sorrest of thumbs. Practically a puzzle piece thrown into the wrong box. With no thoughts behind those pretty blue eyes of his besides you.
“That biker of yours stood up like a torpedo as soon as you walked out,” your co-worker added.
You took a moment to adjust your glasses, moving them to the tip of your nose to get a better look. Sure as shit, you weren’t having a heat stroke. It was really him. He was still here. Had he been out here since the mornin’ or left to come back? And if he was here for you like Margie said — why? You were certain he wasn’t much of a fan of you the day prior.
“He’s — He’s not my biker,” you mangled out, words twisting off your tongue as butterflies danced around your tummy.
Margie snorted. “I hate to break it to you, Hun. Lookin’ like he is now.” She paused a moment, shifting her footing as she spotted a youngin’ running roughly across the pavement, almost banging into another student. “Hey — watch where you’re goin’. Don’t push it Mikey!” She reprimanded before fixing herself upright and asking you, “What was all that about yesterday anyways?”
“What y’mean?” You questioned, not quite sure what she was going on about.
“You know — lettin’ the Davis girls go with ‘em. Caused a bit of an upheaval with the parents apparently. Heard all about it in the break room this mornin’. Doesn’t sound like Principal Rubs is real happy about it either.”
Your ears couldn’t believe what you were hearing. What business did the parents have putting their two cents in about somebody else’s family members? As for Principal Rubin, well, she was Principal Rubin after all. There wasn’t much to it there. The damn woman was a stickler with the sprinklers yesterday after all. Never a ball of fun as far as you were concerned.
“Why wouldn't I?” You challenged, becoming rather defensive.
“The guy pulled up like a maniac all greasy and shit. Almost gave everyone a heart attack,” Margie reasoned, her features churning in disgust.
You knew if he was some clean cut military guy in full uniform, she wouldn’t have made a comment at all, which kind-of pissed you off. Sure his clothes were lookin’ as if they hadn’t seen a washing machine in a cycle of days, but hey — what did that have to do with character? There were plenty of people who gave this outward canvas of perfectionism, far off from who they truly were deep down inside. You knew that, and you saw it every single day within the cruel clusters of your modern society. You saw it in the faces of your Ma and Pa when you didn’t fit the supposed mold they were trying to conform you to.
“So? He’s their Uncle, Marge,” you countered, defenses climbing high. “Did you ever think that maybe the man was runnin’ late? Worryin’ about the girls. That’s why he was speedin’.”
Margie sighed. “Not with that Vandals shit on his vest, but whatever you wanna believe, Hun.”
It went quiet between you two then. A clear indication that this conversation wasn’t gonna get the two of you anywhere.
“I should go talk to him,” you announced, snapping the awkward silence in half. There was no denying that you were now suddenly eager to find out what all this was about.
“Yuh should. If you don’t I will, and I doubt that will end well,” she joked, her eyes sparkling in amusement. Oh and she was right about that. Knowing Margie, you knew the idea of her approaching Benny would formulate a recipe for disaster.
You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the mental image of such a scene. But also — you were utterly glad for this newfound banter popped open from a bottle of tension. “Alright Colonel, I’ll be back,” you quipped, before heading across the playground.
You could feel his eyes burning across your form on your journey to the edge of the property, your tummy flipping again in a bit of nerves and excitement. A part of you felt somewhat disappointed when you found yourself coming to a halt — stuck behind the monstrous fence that separated you from him, while another was glad for some security. You weren’t quite sure what his motive was, but knew it couldn’t be anything bad. He was just sitting here, smoking and minding his own business. Well — minding you.
“The girls don’t get out of school for another few hours, y’know,” you said matter-of-factly, eyeing him through the grates of the fence that reminded you far too much of a honeycomb.
He didn’t say much of anything, just raised a brow as you as he took one last drag of his cigarette. You watched as he put it out against the pavement, amongst a garden of other buds with his boot. Your suspicions were coming into fusion then, the realization that he’d been planted here for as long as your delusions imagined.
What could he possibly want from an innocent elementary school teacher like you?
He reached for that packet of Marlboros in his vest pocket all over again, clearly on a chain smoking spree. “Y’want?” He asked, stopping in his tracks. Those lean fingers of his calloused to the bone holding out a fresh cigarette in your direction. A cigarette that he’d been saving for you just in case.
You looked around for a moment, not quite sure what to do. The coast seemed to be clear though. Margie looked busy with some of the kids. Had a cluster of ‘em around her with her finger wagging about in every which direction. With her eyes no longer trained on Benny and you, and your form more than halfway across the school yard, you figured it wouldn’t hurt. Besides, you were having a day and could really use a cigarette. “Sure.” You shrugged nonchalantly.
Benny re-adjusted his stance, shoulders straight as he sauntered the sidewalk to meet you against the fence. His rough knuckles brushed across your polished ballet slipper fingers as he passed you the cigarette though the honeycomb, a sweetness shooting up your arm in an instance. You left it sticking out for a moment so he could light it up for you, and you could feel his hot breath fanning against your face. The casual interaction felt rather intimate in the moment, and you were more than happy when you got to take a step back on your first drag.
“Thanks,” you voiced your appreciation as he popped a fresh cig against his lips, now lighting up his own. You couldn’t help but notice that he had a sweet little freckle etched into his bottom lip. No wonder he had beautiful lips, you thought.
Surely, they’d be sweet to the kiss.
Jutting your hip out, you tapped your foot against the dry grass in impatience. “You stalkin’ me or somethin’?” You ripped off the bandage then, getting right into the real stuff. It was too hot out to sugarcoat anything any longer. Plus, the more you stood here the more Marg would get curious, and you’d be caught slacking on the job.
His lip curled up to the side naturally, just like it had yesterday when you introduced yourself to him. “Ain’t a stalker,” he confirmed, re-pocketing his lighter.
You found his candid response refreshing’. Naturally a honey rumblin’ laugh tumbled out of you “Good to ‘ear. My co-worker y’see ‘round over there?” Flicking the residue on the end of your cigarette out of the way, you pointed at her simultaneously. “She thinks ya are. Doesn’t appreciate the loitering.”
He shook his head then, long pretty eyelashes fanning his lower lids as he puckered his lips against the cig. His eyes squinted across the campus for only a second until his gaze landed right back on you. You in another denim overall number with a whole new canvas of embroidered fun. This time, knowing that you were gonna be out in the yard come afternoon, you opted on a classic jean overall. There was always the possibility of having to kneel on the grassy ground or near the sand pit, having to scoop up a youngin’ that refused to leave the playground. You learned your lesson rather quickly within your first few months of teaching. Tripping over yourself in such a situation left a tear in your favorite skirt. A skirt you still frowned about every time you found a certain piece in your closet that would make the perfect pair.
Funnily enough, if Benny knew of such a thing he would’ve made sure the same exact piece of clothing was at your doorstep and back in your closet before the thought crossed your sweet little mind.
But you didn’t know that. Not yet, that is.
And Benny — well Benny wasn’t payin’ as much attention as he would’ve liked to what you were sayin’, and he wasn’t quite interested in Margie anyways. His interests lied with you, and in his defense, the sight of you in your heart shaped sunnies wasn't helping the cause one bit. It was hard to take you seriously when you looked that stinkin’ cute. Made him wanna put you in his jacket pocket for safe keeping. And hell was he itching to just drive his bike right through the fuckin’ fence to break the barrier between you two. He was still beatin’ himself up for not taking your hand when you offered it to him yesterday. Hence why he was here, stakin’ you out. Hoping to fix his mistake.
Because the last thing he ever wanted to do was fuck this up with you.
Instead of enertainin’ your comment or makin’ a move to leave upon your far from subtle hints, far from linear to your own wishes, he changed the topic completely. “What time y’get outta ‘ere?”
You took a long drag of your cigarette, to calm your anxieties. The smoke circled ‘round your face for a moment before it traveled across the fence, reachin’ for Benny. Ironically, it was as if the smoke mirrored your desires of clinging onto the man in front of you. “‘round the same time as the girls, a little after,” you replied, curiosity adding, “what’s it to ya?”
“Wanna go for a ride?” He inquired casually. As if he was just stoppin’ by and hadn’t been sitting here for a good three quarters of the school day waitin’ for you.
The simple question spilling from those pretty lips of his made you melt in an instant. If it wasn’t for the obvious heat as a buffer to such a state, your mind would’ve found him as the culprit. “Where?”
“‘round.” He shrugged, not offering much of a plan. His casual demeanor remained concrete to his form.
An innocent smirk stretched across your face, blooming the apples of your cheeks and creasing the plane of your forehead. Now you were the one to flex amusement against a cylinder wedged between honey glossed lips. Now Benny was the one to be somewhat grateful for the honeycomb — if you will. Cause if the fence wasn’t there, he knew he wouldn’t be able to contain himself. He’d have your honey gloss all over his lips, tasting your sweetness without a second thought. Without caring about Margie or the students on the playground. Without caring about anyone really, but you.
Always you.
Perhaps anyone else would be rather suspicious of a plan with really no plan at all. Sure Margie would need a bulleted itinerary on fresh stationary, color coated and attached to a clipboard respectfully. But you — no, you appreciated his carefree mentality. It was peaceful in comparison to the stressing atmosphere that surround you on a daily basis, dotting on the kiddos in your classes, worryin’ constantly about ‘em.
Two could play this game, you thought.
Just at the end of your cigarette, your pretty fingers reached between a ring in the honeycomb, motioning it back to him. “Would ya put this out f’me?” You asked sweetly, mascara coated lashes batting about behind those obvious heart eyes of yours. “Don’t want the kids to find it in the grass.”
“Mhm,” Benny hummed, finding your concern for this children too fuckin’ cute. How could he ever say no to a sweet thang like you? He just couldn’t.
Your fingers grazed his as he took it from you, a touch that you found yourself thanking your faith for allowing you to bask in again.
This time he not only put out his cigarette, but yours too in the garden of buds that would blossom into a metaphor. A metaphor that had you joining his crew. Becoming a part of the club, joining his family, and fulfilling your wifely duties of planting a seed or two more along the way. Growin’ Benny some baby honeys of your very own.
Your lack of a reply to his offer didn’t sway him by any means, only fueled his fire tenfold. Turning on his heel then, you couldn’t help but frown, thinkin’ your hesitance turned him impatient and over the prospect completely. Especially when you watched him mount his bike and rev the engine, ready to ride away without another word. But Benny — no he still had somethin’ to say, and he was gonna say it alright. “I’ll see ya out front after school, Honey.” He decided, “I’ll be waitin’.”
The sound of your nickname rolling off his tongue — as smooth as honey sliding down your throat in a soothing tea — was all you needed to make your decision.
With your fun little backpack — straps resting against your shoulders — absolutely decked out in pins and keychains alike, you’d spot him at dismissal, and he’d be waitin’. Waitin’ for you to come. Wonderin’ if you were comin’.
Askin’ himself ‘Honey, are you comin’?’
Of course you would. You always would with Benny, no matter what.
And when you mounted his bike, your body molding into his like you were made for him, and your hands wrapping around his waist, Benny’s mistake proved to be no more. Suddenly, everything felt right in the world.
Right because you were one step closer to being his honey.
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hi-ya, i hope you enjoyed part 2! there’s so much more to come. expect a from the hive 🎙️🐝 installment real soon :)
also to note, my requests are open for any miss honey x benny cross works + any convos about these two in general. don’t be shy honey, i’m all for yapping in the asks.
+ don’t forget to comment if you’d like be added to “da bee hive” (my version of da tag list)
smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋
da bee hive 🐝
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pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader
warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)
author’s note: sorry for the delay folks xx
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masterlist
now i wish we’d never met ‘cause you’re too hard to forget while i’m cleaning up your mess i know he’s taking off your dress and i know that you don’t but if i ask you if you love me i hope you lie to me
Bucky Barnes was a great many things, a paradox in a single man, many opposite things to different people. For some he was an angel, charity driven and ready to sacrifice himself for everything and everyone. For others, he was a demon, someone who was power driven, filled with the need for success and stepping on anyone he needed to be the first and the best. No matter what both thought, all agreed on one thing - Bucky Barnes was one hell of a charmer. He’d gotten that from his mother - old high class British charm, his father used to say. That combined with his looks made him irresistible to most people. Everyone flocked to him, everyone except for Y/N. She’d vanished from his side a bit later into the night and he hadn’t seen her since. Each time he thought to look for her, someone would need him or catch his attention.
Even with all that, he couldn’t find her. Y/N was an eye catching woman, she was beautiful and if she were anywhere near he would’ve found her. Instead, she was nowhere to be found and he was starting to get annoyed. He wanted to spend the evening with her, or at least he had intended to spend the evening with her, introducing her to the right people who could help her. He continued listening to whoever was talking to him right now - truth was, he wasn’t even sure who that person was. He just usually smiled and kept up simple talks, that was what was required of him so he would gladly keep doing it as long as it yielded results.
As for Y/N, she had almost forgotten who she was here with. Christopher Davis was someone who she always could picture herself with. He was smart, well spoken, well mannered and seemed to have an interest on her. Besides, he had gone through the same thing as her back at Columbia.
      - I’m just saying Professor Williams is a pain. - Chris laughed as Y/N explained what her supervisor had said. - If Professor Anderson likes you then you must be a bright student.  
      - Or maybe I’m just really daft. 
      - I don’t think so. - he smiled. - Sergeant Barnes doesn’t employ someone who doesn’t have promise. 
      - Except I don’t work for him ... I mean, not like you work for him, I’m just an au pair. I reckon the only criteria was are you a threat and are you good with children. 
      - How is it working with Sergeant Barnes if you don’t mind me asking?
Chris looked at her and then back at James whom he didn’t notice had been staring them down until now. He sighed, putting on his best smile, after all, he was trying to impress this girl. 
     - He’s uptight and a bit controlling but I guess you have to be if you want things to run smoothly. Specially when you work in advertising. 
     - That’s most CEOs isn’t it?
     - Yes but James Barnes is .. different. Sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a disgruntled employee. 
     - That is fine. Sergeant Barnes has got me on my nerves every once and again?
     - Is that so? - Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she turned around to face her boss. She wasn’t afraid of him per say, but she also knew, she just knew he would probably be pissy for the rest of the evening. - Good evening Y/N, Mr. Davis. 
     - I will see you tomorrow, Y/N. - Chris smiled at the au pair.
To say Y/N was over the moon was a massive understatement. He liked her, at least she thought he liked her enough to invite her out. She didn’t think she still had it within her, she was usually busy looking over Sadie or with her postgraduate studies - that didn’t give her enough time to think about her sex and love life. That being said, maybe that explained why she was having the weird dreams and fantasies about James; familiarity. Right? It had to be that.
Bucky on the other hand felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Chris was ... well, he didn’t know that much about Chris other than he came from money yet he couldn’t even blame him from that since he had come from money as well. He was just boring, Bucky found him boring. He didn’t take risks, at least not enough risks for someone who worked at advertising. He played it safe. It worked, but it wasn’t revolutionary. Still, Bucky didn’t like him. He definitely didn’t like him for Y/N either. Y/N was smart, innovative, caring and another bunch of positive adjectives which were too long to list. Chris was just boring.
     - So how’s that lady? - Y/N broke the silence between the two of them, a bit tipsy on the champagne which she wasn’t used to drinking.
     - What lady?
     - Delilah? - she looked up through her dizzy, tipsy mind, before snapping her fingers. - Delia. Yeah, that’s her name. How is Delia?
     - You would know if you weren’t busy flirting with my employees. 
     - Oh so you can flirt but I can’t?
     - Not when you’re with me. You’re embarrassing yourself and humiliating me.
     - But I’m not here with you, am I, sergeant? I am not your date, am I?
     - No. - he smiled forcefully. - However if I were going to flirt with someone I would pick someone less boring. 
     - You work in advertising, Sergeant. Everyone is boring. 
(...)
Bucky had never spent a whole night alone with Sadie, not when she was awake. Yet, here he was, left behind by his au pair so she could go and date boring Chris while he had to deal with a very hyper Sadie who was running around as if it wasn’t 8 o’clock yet. He usually had a babysitter or he had Y/N, or Steve yet right now he was by his lonesome. He thought she would’ve settled down if he played princesses, yet, she did not. Instead Bucky now had knotted hair, glitter on his face and probably some on his eye and permanent marker on his neck. He had finally given up and done the worse thing in the eyes of every parenting book - he’d given her a tablet loaded with all the Bluey seasons. Meanwhile he’d taken to watching re-runs of Mad Men. 
     - Bed? - he asked the curly haired ginger who looked up at him, her hair in front of her face. - I’ll give you 10 dollars?
     - No. - she replied before looking back at her tablet. Bucky sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Soon the terrible twos would be done and he’d have the terrifying threes. 
    - 20 dollars? - he said once again but she ignored him. He sighed, how come Y/N managed to do this? - Sadie, you can either go to bed or you can be tired tomorrow and not go to the park with Y/N. Choose. 
She looked at him with the death stare which she had inherited from him, but eventually got up, grabbing his hand. Bucky smiled, picking her up and walking to her bedroom. He pushed the sheets from her bed, carefully rolling her to her mattress before tucking her in, handing her a Bingo plushie. 
    - You want a story, babe? - he asked her, brushing her curls away from her forehead. - No?
    - Light?
    - I’ll turn your little moonlight on. - he kissed her forehead. - I love you, Sisi bug. 
She smiled at him and it was enough for him to know she meant she loved him too. He tucked her once more before turning off the main light, leaving the room softly lit by the nightlight. Slowly and softly he went up the stairs, grabbing a wick basket and started collecting toys onto it. She had too many toys, still he wouldn’t stop buying them. As he finished it, Bucky sat back down on the couch. He was annoyed. Why did she even go out with that prick? The only thing they had in common was an alma matter and god knows Chris was a legacy student so it wasn’t like he tried as hard to get into university like Y/N had. God, he hated him. Hated how bland and boring he was. 
He toyed around with the remote, trying to find something that would get his head out of the idea of goddamn Christopher Davis trying to get her out of the practically translucent dress she had been wearing. Bucky could swear she did it on purpose, just to show off to him in those strap heels and short sheer black dress like a temptress. He changed channels once more, hoping he’d find something ... maybe a pay per view porn channel or something. Yet nothing took his mind of his au pair, his employee who he should have some professionalism with, and that stupid lacy bra he could make out under that dress. Dressing up like that for goddamn Davis. 
He stared at his phone, watching as hours passed yet nothing fulfilled. Eventually, Bucky made a mistake, a huge, massive mistake. A mistake which fulfilled itself as he opened the door to show Delia. He handled things badly but right now he needed his fill. 
His lips attacked hers as they stumbled towards the bedroom, Bucky locking the door behind him. This was a bad habit, a terrible habit but her lips felt good, her taste was tempting and Bucky wasn’t the one to have good habits. However, today, things were ... different. Her lips leaving lipstick marks on his neck didn’t feel the same. Maybe this was a mistake. He shouldn’t really have a woman in the house when his daughter was asleep upstairs. 
   - Are you alright? - Delia pulled away from him.
Bucky blinked, he had to be going ... stir crazy. Maybe he’d drank a bit too much whiskey but her features morphed and he could swear that in place of the woman he usually called whenever he needed release, stood the woman he wanted to be here now. The sheer dress a vivid memory in the back of his mind. He ignored her question, moving to kiss her neck and putting his hand over her mouth. His fantasies took full front stage as his mind drew a different reality.
All he could see was her, red lips open wide with soft, high pitched moaned as he kissed down her body, doing away with her dress and her underwear. He wanted to mark her, he wanted to mark this vision of a woman he craved. His hands found the top of his joggers, pushing it down as if he were a horny mess. His cock was painfully hard, slapping against his stomach as he stood over her, this vision of Y/N. All he could think of were all the times she saw her, the outline of her breasts, her collarbones. He didn't pace himself, instead lining up with the woman's entrance before he gripped her hips and slide himself in, without much a second of though. The feeling made him grown, he was insane he reckoned, insane because he knew this wasn't her but all he could see is her. The soft moans, the contracted muscles. He fucked her hard and rough until he felt his release approach. Once he did, he slide himself off, jerking off and coming on her stomach, rolling to the side of the bed. He stared at the ceiling fan of the guest bedroom, his mind lulling him back to reality ... all he could think when that moment was once simple thing - Fuck Chris Davis. 
(...)
Y/N didn’t spend the night. He noticed that in the morning as he was getting prepared from work and saw her walk in, with her dress crimped and hair barely brushed. His blood bubbled. If she wanted to fuck old money, she could’ve fucked him. 
    - Had your release? - he knew he was being mean now, just looking to stir the pot. - Fun night?
    - Why? Need some new jerking off material? - she crossed her arms, speaking in a manner and language that almost made him spit his coffee. - Who’s taking Sadie to school?
    - Well, if you can still walk I’d say he did a pretty shit job, huh?
    - I guess I’m taking Sadie to school. - she rolled her eyes. - And it’s none of your business.
    - Well my employee is fucking another one of my employees. Maybe you should go to HR. 
    - Maybe I should and tell them that the boss is acting like an ass. Are you seriously still upset at me that I flirted with someone at your weird benefit? I’m single, I’m allowed to flirt!
    - Not with Chris Davis. Seriously, Y/N, get a better taste in men. 
    - Because you have such a great taste in women. - she poured herself a cup of coffee. - Since you’re dressed, maybe you should take Sadie to school and see your favourite ego boosting group the PTA mums. 
    - Maybe I will.
    - Picking Sadie up from school or do you want me to?
    - Steve’s picking her up.
    - Steve?
Steve. 
////////////////////////////////////
taglist : @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82​ @winters1917​ @vladsgirlxx​
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concreteangel92 · 4 months
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Thou Shalt Not Kill - Chapter 1
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AU Noah Sebastian X female reader
MDNI
Summary: Reader is a detective and is assigned to a murder case which she soon connects with previous killings and figures out the religious affiliation, proving there is a new serial killer within the city. The reader soon becomes obsessed with the killers mind and methods and won’t rest until she figures out who the killer is. All while she gets used to working with her new partner on the case, detective Noah Davis.
Warnings: DESCRIPTIVE writing of graphic murders and killings, blood, gore, serial killer, violence, use of religion. I’m pretty certain that’s it for this chapter but please let me know if I’ve missed anything!
I will say this now, this story won’t be for everyone!! I’m comfortable writing/reading about this as I’ve always loved serial killer documentaries, murder mystery novels, etc but I’m not responsible for you reading this if you think you might get triggered or upset!! You have been warned now, I don’t want to get any shitty messages because you haven’t listened.
I have taken huge inspiration from AHS: Hotel which for those of you who know it, will definitely catch on haha but for this whole story, I’m taking inspiration from many different characters and stories! I do not claim to be an expert on detectives/the police btw haha so if it’s not completely accurate then I do apologise!
I’m very excited to start this, it will be fairly longish, definitely no smut at the moment but be patient, it will come haha 🤣
And again, if you would like to be added to the tag list then let me know!! I’ve added everyone who asked, who reblogged and some who liked the original post if I recognised your user names but I’ve probably missed so many out so let me know!
Tags: @reyadawn @thefallennightmare @hayleylatour @calleyx13 @english-fucker @malerieee @lilhobgobbler @glccmreid @badomensls @madomens @loeytuan98 @rosebushjhj @livingdeceasedgirl @lilrubles @samanthasgone @blackveilomens @hellayeahsworld @lookwhatitcost @thatchickwiththecamera
Ima1986
darling-millicent-aubrey
Ithoughtbynowidfeelbetter
softvgold
iluvmewwwww75
Ok so I believe you guys asked to be tagged but for some reason it won’t let me and keeps saying blogs couldn’t be found? I’m not sure why but I’ll try and fix that!
MASTERLIST
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You walked fast down the dimly lit corridor in the seedy hotel in downtown LA, the place had a damp, musty smell and you knew if these walls could talk, they’d no doubt scream.
You’d been called to a particularly gruesome crime scene, you hadn’t had much else to go on but you knew your sergeant wouldn’t have called you if it was a ‘straight forward’ homicide.
Seeing some of your colleagues up head, you pulled on a pair of blue surgical gloves and walked into the hotel room.
The sight that faced you wasn’t one for the faint of heart. A couple that had been engaging in sex were now impaled together by what appeared to be a long metal rod. Both sets of hands had been nailed to the headboard and from the looks of it, they were still joined in the middle.
“The scene has already been documented detective”
“Not by me it hasn’t”
You ignored the officer and continued to survey the area. Two driving licenses were on the bedside table with two set of wedding rings next to them, you took note of the victims names and saw the marks where the rings would normally sit on their fingers confirming that they belonged to the deceased.
“They were married but not to each other. They were having an affair”
The officer from before spoke up next to you.
“Jealous ex?”
You glanced back to the couple on the bed.
“No. This isn’t jealousy or a crime of passion. This is something else, I highly doubt it was an upset partner”
You walked over to get a closer look, the woman who was nailed by her hands was slumped forward, body only being held up by the pole that was embedded low into the headboard and running through the man’s chest, blood had run down her body and into his, but what you noticed immediately was that there was more blood that had congealed around her groin and his.
You glanced around the room again and noticed a glue bottle sticking out from under the bed on the floor, picking up confirmed what you already knew.
“They were glued together”
You turned to the officer and handed him the glue to be put in an evidence bag.
“Have the forensic team been in?”
“Yes detective”
“Please have a case file sent to my desk immediately, start cleaning up in here and get someone to inform the families.”
You pulled the gloves off your hands and wrapped them up as you walked out of the room, heading back to the station.
•••••••
You walked into your office with a cup of coffee in hand, knowing it was going to be needed for the long evening.
You’d phoned ahead and asked for a few other files to be brought to you, something very eerily similar about some cases you’d read recently.
You picked up the first folder and flicked straight to the crime scene photos. Once again, these were not for the faint of heart, you felt your throat go slightly dry at the scene before you.
The photos showed a woman in her mid twenties strapped to the bedposts of her bed spread out wide, wrists red and cut from trying to get lose from the metal cuffs, her mouth had been sewn shut, her genitals and thighs covered in blood where the autopsy had concluded that she’d been assaulted by foreign objects repeatedly, ripping her apart from the inside. The bed was soaked dark red and written on the wall behind the bed in her own blood were the words ‘a lair is always willing to take the oath’
Her name was Nina Platt, she had been involved in a court case a year ago accusing her ex of raping her, he had been convicted and later took his own life in prison. Only later had his innocence been proven too late. Nina had been under further investigation when her body was discovered in her apartment.
You took a breath and put the photos down, needing a second before opening the next folder.
Oliver Wicks. 19 years old, body found in an ally way, hands cut off and never recovered, his body surrounded by stolen wallets and phones. This young boy had a criminal history of petty theft, in and out of juvie for years.
And the last folder showed an older couple in mid fifties, throats slashed, both clutching bibles with some of the pages shoved into their mouths. They had both been members of their local church, records showed that wasn’t always the case for them however, both had been well known on the drug and party scene before finding god later in life. Their bodies were discovered on a Sunday night after they failed to show for the Sunday service.
You took a sip of your coffee, wishing it was something stronger, before taking one photo from each crime scene and putting it up on your board. Taking a step back you looked over them.
You had no doubt that they were all connected somehow, they all showed similar qualities, they were a show, a display, for what, you weren’t certain yet but you were determined to find out.
Your train of thought was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Come in”
The door opened to reveal sergeant Matthews walking in.
“Detective Y/L/N”
“Sir”
You nodded in his direction and looked back over the board.
“Fuck…what a gruesome display. And you believe these are all connected?”
“I do sir, I think we have a serial killer on our hands. I just haven’t figured out the motive yet. None of these people have any connection to each other, all different crimes but somehow the same”
Sergeant Matthews ran his hand over his chin as he took it all in.
“This person must think that they are god”
Something in your mind sparked up.
“Say that again!”
“This person must think they’re god?”
Your mind was going into overdrive, something on the tip of tongue, what was it? What was it?
“God? God!”
Then it hit you and you quickly ran back to your laptop and started typing.
“Detective would you mind filling me in on what’s going on in that head of yours?”
Your eyes went wide as you’d found what you were looking for, you walked back over to the board and pointed first at the photo of the young boy.
“Thou shalt not steal”
You pointed at the older couple.
“Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy”
Then at the young girl’s photo.
“Thou shalt not bare false witness”
And finally at the couple from this morning.
“Thou shalt not commit adultery”
Your sergeant turned to you.
“The 10 commandments”
You nodded, you felt almost breathless at your discovery, there was a new serial killer in town alright and he’d been killing for the last couple months right under your noses.
•••••••••
Once word had got out, the newspapers had dubbed him ‘The 10 Commandments Killer’. The press was having a field day, it was on every channel and on the front page of every paper. A serial killer loose in the city, it was a frightening prospect.
All the previous cases had been transferred onto you, this was now fully your case and you had every intention to catch the killer as soon as possible before he struck again, there was still 6 commandments left after all.
You were once again stood in front of your pin board in your office, it was now filled with more crime scene photos, newspaper articles and all photos of any evidence that had been obtained. You were trying to figure out the killers mind, see what the connections between these people are or were they completely random? That thought was even more terrifying.
A knock at the door pulled you back into the room.
“Yeah?”
“Detective”
Your sergeant was once again in your doorway.
“I have assigned you a new partner to help with this case. I feel this is too much for one detective alone, especially given its nature.”
You nodded in understanding, no one should take on a case this big alone.
“Who am I working with?”
“Detective Noah Davis. New to station within the last month but had an excellent recommendation from his old station in Richmond, Virginia from where’s he’s transferred, highly experienced and he should be an asset to this investigation. I’ve brought him here to meet you”
Sergeant Matthews opened the door wider to reveal an extremely tall, broad but handsome man, his dark brown eyes meeting yours with an intense gaze.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you detective Y/L/N”
Chapter 2
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cartermagazine · 6 months
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Today In History
Sammy Davis, Jr., legendary entertainer, received the 53rd NAACP Spingarn Medal on this date March 30, 1969 for: his multifaceted talent, his participation in the civil rights movement, and for his dedication to freedom, justice, quality, and the brotherhood of all mankind.
He overcame prevailing racism to establish himself as an entertainment legend, becoming a successful comedian, actor, dancer and singer. As part of the Rat Pack, with Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr. was known for films like Ocean’s 11 and Sergeants 3.
As his fame grew, his refusal to appear in any clubs that practiced racial segregation led to the integration of several venues in Miami Beach and Las Vegas.
A Tony-nominated performer, Davis was also associated with popular recordings like “I’ve Gotta Be Me” and the No. 1 hit “The Candy Man.”
CARTER™️ Magazine
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nesaluvstherecoms · 5 months
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𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱.
ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴄᴏʟᴏɴᴇʟ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ x ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ꜰᴇᴍ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Extreme mental strain, mentions of male masturbation.
ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ʟɪɴᴋ
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒: 𝐒𝐒𝐃𝐃
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The sound of light solid taps is the only thing that can be heard through the dark office. Y/N’s breathing is soft, steady, calm, as it accompanies the sounds of the electronic pen writing on the screen of her touchpad. The lights of her spacious office are off, letting only the dim light from outside penetrate through the large glass-panel windows behind her and illuminate her surroundings. It’s almost eclipse.
Y/N’s sharp eyes follow the tip of her pen as she writes, summarizing her team’s new report for General Ardmore. The tip of her tail sways softly at her side, draped over the right arm of her expensive, cushioned desk chair. It’s the end of the week and she has been in her office all day, reviewing reports. It has been a good week overall. Her team have been able to eliminate multiple Na’vi groups and take over their territories, allowing the troops to start treating the land to set new grounds for the RDA. Captain Keller, Lieutenant Álvarez and Lieutenant Jones have led multiple units to success, almost flawlessly even in this new environment, Sergeant Davis has adapted his ability to plan attacks in said environment perfectly, and the rest of her team have been outstanding as well. Ardmore is happy, the contractors are happy, and most importantly, her team seems to be happy. She should be proud of them, she really should, and she is. But since day one, she can’t help but feel a weird weight in the bottom of her gut. She tells herself it’s just because she isn’t used to this, and she agrees. It will take some time to adapt, but she’ll get there.
With a final tap, she finishes the report and quickly puts her elegant signature at the bottom. Putting the electronic pen aside, she lets its magnetic side stick to the right side of her touchpad. Y/N pushes her desk chair slightly back and reaches upwards, stretching her elegant body and cracking her spine and tail. With a sigh of relief, she turns her chair around and leans back, resting her body comfortably on the thick cushioned lining. Her eyes immediately fall on the landscape outside, well not much of a landscape but it’s still better than looking at reports for hours. The dull colors outside don’t do much for the eye but Y/N doesn’t mind. Her eyes move to the sky, watching aimlessly as her mind continues its train of thought again. One report however, had not been to her liking. Three high-value prisoners free, a high-value target on the run and five Recombinants dead.
Y/N clenches her jaw. It’s been only two months and already five Recoms have been KIAd. A shiver runs down her spine. Recoms. Just like her. Just like her squad. How? How could this have happened? She watches as the eclipse happens in the sky, blocking the rest of the light rays, plunging the world outside into darkness. Bridgehead turns on its night lights, illuminating the city as some vehicles stop moving, the workers wrapping up their workdays as others come out to start their night shifts.
A knock on her office door brings her out of her thoughts. She turns around to press a button from the control panel on her desk and the door slides open. The comforting figure of her Captain steps into her office, stopping a few steps away from her desk and saluting her.
“General.” John acknowledges softly but firmly. Y/N nods, smiling softly.
“John.” She greets. “At ease.”
Captain Keller lowers his arm, giving her a friendly smile as he shuffles once on his feet.
“I apologize if I am disturbing ma’am, but General Ardmore requests your presence in the Neurolab.”
Y/N raises her brows. The Neurolab? That’s a bit of an odd location for Ardmore to be in.
“I see. Is there a problem?” She asks, as she stands up from her desk. John looks at her, as she makes her way around her desk to stand in front of him, looking up at him from her side. He purses his lips slightly before responding in his deep and raspy tone.
“Turns out Colonel Quaritch did not lose all of his captives after all.”
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Y/N has gotten used to the eyes following her everywhere she walks by now. Her high rank, her demeanor and her intimidating size attract attention everywhere she goes. But this kind of attention has been following her her whole life, even before waking up as a Recom, with people staring at her; some in admiration, some in judgement, some in curiosity and some in just lust. By now, it doesn’t bother her, and if it wasn’t for the way she has been conditioned to pay attention to everything around her, she wouldn’t even notice. So now, as she walks through the corridors of the Ops center, with John following behind her and towering over the humans walking around, she ignores the multiple pairs of eyes that follow their moving figures. They turn a corner to a corridor with less people and Y/N turns her head towards her team Captain.
“So, about this prisoner. Tell me more.” She says as they keep on walking together towards the designated place. John takes a sip of carbon dioxide, letting his lungs fill up nicely, before responding to his General.
“It’s a human boy. Raised mostly in the wild by the resistance and the natives. Deceased Colonel Quaritch’s son.” He replies, watching as Y/N raises a brow disapprovingly.
“Son? He had a child?” She asks, her cropped ears folding back slightly. John nods.
“Yes ma’am. He got one of his scorpion pilots pregnant when he was still alive, resulting in the boy. The mother died in the war and the kid was left with the resistance.” He informs her. Y/N scoffs in amusement, shaking her head, and her tail swings a couple of times behind her.
“So not only did he give leverage to the traitor for months, but he was fraternizing with his own pilots too? Talk about populating Pandora.” She comments and John chuckles, shaking his head. Y/N brings the mask of her Recom Breather up to her face and takes a filling sip of carbon dioxide, before lowering it and talking to John again.
“How come the boy was not sent back to Earth, like everyone else?”
John takes a sip from his mask as well before speaking.
“He was too young. Babies cannot be put in cryo sleep.”
Y/N hums, turning her line of vision away for a moment before looking back at him.
“And he is important to us how exactly?”
“He’s been with Sully’s family for years, grown up with the kids. He knows every single Na’vi operation, the location of their main base, everything. If the science department manage to force this information out of him then we have hit the jackpot.” John replies. Y/N nods slowly, grabbing her mask again and moving it up to her face. New thoughts start roaming her mind, processing the new information.
“I see.”
。。。
Miles’ head is in multiple places at once. Firstly, his team’s encounter in the forest still has him and his troopers shaken. Five of their own are dead, gone in a matter of seconds. He believes his team will get over their deaths soon, they are soldiers after all, they have lost people before. But what bothers him the most is the human boy he never thought he would see again. Young Miles. Quaritch’s steps are firm as he walks through the corridors of the Ops center, with Wainfleet following close behind. Miles’ tail moves slowly behind him, as him and his Lieutenant move towards the Neurolab, both Recoms silent. Lyle’s eyes remain on the back of Miles’ head, trying to figure out the current mood of his Colonel. After all, they have just found his predecessor’s son. That must be shocking even to Miles himself. But up until now, the Colonel has shown no emotions towards the situation. As soon as they returned to base, he handed the boy in Ardmore’s troops’ hands like he was as valuable as any other prisoner. But a few moments ago, as soon as he had heard that the boy would be strapped to the DPF’s NeuroSect E7.2T scanner, he was immediately on his feet and out the door, with Lyle following behind. So Wainfleet cannot make out exactly what the Colonel is feeling. He tries to read his body language, watching his tail and his ears but they do not show any sign of his emotions either. With his eyes still on his Colonel, Lyle brings the Recom Breather mask up to his face and takes a sip of carbon dioxide. Well, he’s about to figure out what Miles is thinking, as they are now heading straight for the Neurolab down the corridor.
。。。
As Y/N and John turn the corner to finally be in front of the Neurolab, he is suddenly pulled back and pressed against the wall, put out of sight from the entrance. His first instinct is to fight and then react but the one who has pulled him back is Y/N.
“General?” He questions as Y/N presses herself against the wall as well. She shushes him, her eyes carefully inspecting the front of the Neurolab. John follows her line of vision and a few moments later, two pairs of heavy combat boots echo through the corridor. What he can only assume is Colonel Quaritch and his Lieutenant, as far as John remembers from the holograms shown to him and Y/N in the Holofloor the first day they arrived, pass through and wait for the door of the Neurolab to open. The metal doors slide open and Wainfleet is the first to move a step inside, but Quaritch doesn’t move. Instead his head is raised slightly up and he’s looking around, his tail now swinging faster behind him. His brows furrow in concentration as he seems to be searching around for something. Wainfleet, who has now stepped a foot in the lab, turns to his commander with a raised eyebrow.
“Colonel?”
Quaritch looks around for a bit more, amber eyes searching for whatever has suddenly caught his attention, but when he doesn’t find it, he shakes his head with a displeased expression on his face and heads inside the Neurolab. The doors slide closed after him and Wainfleet walk in, and Y/N removes herself from the wall. John turns his head towards her, giving her a questioning look.
“What was that for?” He asks. Y/N doesn’t answer, instead she looks thoughtfully at a blank spot on the floor for a moment, before she raises her head again and turns to him.
“We best not make our presence known. I want to see how this unfolds.”
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“Where is Jake Sully?”
“I don’t know!” Screams the boy in fear, his voice cracking from the strain he puts on his exhausted throat. The DPF’s NeuroSect E7.2T scanner where he is strapped on, spins in flashing green lights, with a whirring sound that fills the Neurolab.
“We know that you know.” Ardmore presses.
Quaritch watches intently, leaning with one arm on the glass panel of the Neurolab’s brain imaging booth.
“I don’t know!” The boy screams again.
“Just form a picture in your mind.” Ardmore says nonchalantly, lowering her head briefly to check the screen of the scanner. “Is it one of the floating mountains?”
“Let me out of here!” He replies back.
Inside the brain imaging booth, Wainfleet bends down to check the holo display of the boy’s brain, watching as different colors highlight the different brain states that he is going through, with the scanner feeding it visual memories in real time. The corporate man next to Quaritch turns around towards one of the scientists analyzing the hologram.
“Hey, he’s fighting this.” He states as Quaritch turns around as well, grabbing the mask of his Recom Breather and bringing it up to his face.
“Give us a minute.” The scientist replies, walking closer to the woman scientist analyzing the brain with him. Meanwhile, the boy continues to scream in the background.
“I don’t know!”
Ardmore purses her lips, slowly starting to get annoyed as she stares him down.
“Just form a thought.” She says while shaking her head, her voice starting to get laced in irritation. “And we will see it.”
“I don’t know!”
Quaritch slowly moves behind the holo display of the boy’s brain. His cropped ears raise up as he stares at it in curiosity. He shifts in place, brows slowly furrowing the more he looks at it.
“Look, I don’t like this any more than you do!” Ardmore says, finally raising her voice and showing her frustration. It’s been forty minutes, she has shit to do, but instead she’s stuck here interrogating this filthy kid who somehow isn’t budging. And where is L/N, she asked for her fifty minutes ago! The boy screams in pain as a sharp throb stabs down the center of his brain.
“Which clans would be harboring him?” Ardmore presses.
“I don’t know!” He screams yet again in pain, this time faster. “You’re gonna have to kill me!”
At that last sentence Miles’ eyes narrow down dangerously. His ears fold back and he glares at the hologram, before a displeased expression plasters on his face, his upper lip twitching upwards once. He bends down just like Wainfleet did, to get a closer look at the pulsing electric waves that run through the neurons of the hologram brain in a neon orange color. The boy’s screams continue in the background.
“Watch this, you’re peaking all over the prefrontal.” The male scientist who spoke earlier tells the female scientist as she scrambles with a datapad that analyzes the boy’s brain further.
“It’s not gonna stop until you give us something. Where is he?!” Ardmore continues, this time irritation showing fully through the tone of her voice. The boy screams more, his body now starting to shake against the scanner.
“I don’t know you assholes, okay?! I don’t know!” He screams harder, his voice cracking again through the sentence. Quaritch has had enough.
With fast, heavy steps he moves swiftly to the control panel outside of the brain imaging booth, pressing his palm down on the red shut off button. The whirring sound of the scanner slowls down and the spinning panels slow down with it until they stop moving completely and the sound that has been filling the Neurolab for almost fifty minutes stops, plunging the room in silence. Ardmore turns around, snapping her head back to get a look of the person who just shut off the scanner. Miles removes his massive hand from the control panel and straightens his posture, looking back at the General with the tip of his tail slightly raised while Wainfleet walks out of the booth and stands a few feet away from his Colonel. The boy pants heavily, eyes now half lidded and blood leaking out of his left nostril. With slow and soft strides, trying to approach the situation carefully, Quaritch gets closer to the General. His vision falls on the boy for a bit before he turns his back to him and moves his head closer to Ardmore. Maintaining reassuring eye contact with her, he speaks.
“General, let me… try the personal angle.” He says with a nod and ears folded back, voice raspy and firm. Ardmore stares intensively into his eyes, disbelief plastered on her face. She snaps her head towards the boy before turning to look at Quaritch with her mouth slightly agape in irritation.
“He’s not your son.” She tells him, glaring into his eyes warningly. Quaritch knows that there’s a hint of threat in her tone, and he doesn’t say anything but maintain the eye contact. Ardmore purses her lips and gives him one last stare before turning her head forward and walking down the steps of the scanner. Quaritch’s eyes follow her, turning his head towards her form until she steps on the floor of the Neurolab. Without any more words she strides off. Wainfleet steps out of her way and gives her a respectful head nod as she leaves and Quaritch turns his head towards the boy still strapped on the scanner. He reaches in and unstraps him, yanking the leads off of him. Two strong, muscled arms reach towards the boy’s figure and pull him out of the scanner. With exhausted and half lidded eyes he stares up at the Recombinant that is now carrying his weak body in his arms. Quaritch chuckles.
“Tough guy, huh? How’s that workin’ out for you?” He says softly to the kid before wiping his bloody nose with his thumb. He turns around and with heavy strides, starts making his way towards the door. Wainfleet watches him before following behind, as scientists and personnel watch them with wide eyes. Right as the two Recoms are about to exit, yet again Quaritch stops. With a curious stare he turns around, eyes frantically searching again for something that has caught his attention. Wainfleet raises a brow again, trying to figure out what is up with his Colonel today, but before he can start thinking too much of it, Quaritch has turned back towards the exit and has now stepped out. Wainfleet follows, the two pairs of combat boots thudding heavily on the metal floors, before the doors slide closed behind them.
。。。
Miles clenches his jaw as they walk through the hallway. That scent. That mind numbing scent. That scent that he smelled again. Just like the one that was lingering around the entrance of the Neurolab when he arrived. Similar to the one he fisted his cock to in the ISV Vindicator. She’s around here somewhere. He knows it.
。。。
In the second story of the Neurolab, Y/N and Captain Keller slowly get closer to the rail that lets them look down upon the brain imaging booth and the scanner. Y/N brings her Recom Breather mask up to her face and takes a deep sip, filling her lungs with the much needed carbon dioxide. John chuckles in disbelief, his amber eyes staring at the now empty scanner, before he turns his head towards her.
“Did you see that, General?” He asks, his raspy voice clearly displaying disapproval. Y/N’s stare onto the scanner is hard and filled with distaste. She removes the mask from her face and her cropped ears fold back slightly before speaking in a serious tone.
“Damn right I saw.”
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After attending some important matters, Ardmore heads towards her office to review a few reports and then finish work for the day. After all, eclipse has fallen long ago and everyone has already wrapped up their shifts. But being the RDA’s Expeditionary Force Commander, she cannot rest so easily like the rest of the people on base, as the future of humanity is ultimately upon her shoulders. These thoughts roam her mind as she walks through the now dead and quiet corridors, her footsteps echoing through the hallways. After a few seconds, she arrives in front of her office door, pressing her keycard to the scanner on the right side. The door slides open and she takes a step inside before her senses heighten alarmingly as her eyes fall on the large blue figure in her office. Instinctively, her hand flies to her handgun but a further look at the Na’vi and she sighs, releasing her grip on the firearm.
“For fucks sake, L/N.”
Y/N gives her a grin, sat on one of the couches in Ardmore’s office with her legs one over the other on top of the coffee table in front of the piece of furniture.
“Apologies for my unannounced presence, General.” She replies, fidgeting with a combat knife as she continues sitting comfortably on the couch. Ardmore frowns at her once before stepping into the office, the door sliding closed behind her. She walks to her desk and takes off the holster along with the gun, placing it on top of the surface before turning away.
“Not only did you not attend to my side when I asked you to today, but you also made yourself comfortable in my office without my permission, after the work day nonetheless. Care to explain yourself?” She asks coldly, walking to the coffee machine in the corner of her office and turning it on.
“Ah, apologies, I plead guilty for the second charge. Not for the first one though.” Y/N says with a chuckle, running her elegant blue fingers over the black blade. “Coffee at night, General? I thought you were the healthy type.”
Ardmore huffs once in amusement, grabbing a standard-issue RDA coffee mug from a cupboard nearby and putting it under the coffee dispenser.
“When the fate of humanity is on your shoulders, you’ve thrown health out the window a long time ago.” She replies, turning around to lean against the table that the coffee machine and a few other assortments are on, and facing Y/N. Ardmore crosses her arms over her chest as the machine starts buzzing.
“So, why are you here?” She presses. Y/N’s eyes fall on her before she lowers her feet from the coffee table and sits up on the couch. She tucks the knife into its sheath on her gear and places her elbows on top of her knees, leaning forward.
“I was there today. In the Neurolab. Captain Keller informed me as you requested and I complied. However, as I was about to enter the lab, Colonel Quaritch and his Lieutenant approached the lab as well. I did not want to make my presence known so I stayed out of sight. But I was there. I attempted to catch up to you after but your assistant informed me that you were occupied with some important matters. So I came over here and waited.”
Ardmore raises a brow, looking back at Y/N, expecting something more. Y/N catches on to her expression and sighs, reaching into one of the pockets of her tactical pants to pull out a small metal card with a magnetic strip. She puts it on top of the coffee table like she’s making a peace offering and places her elbow on top of her knee again.
“Yes, I did steal the keycard that unlocks the door to your office from your assistant. But to my defense, I did not know when you’d be returning. Besides, I don’t think he has noticed yet.” Y/N says, giving Ardmore a mischievous smile. Ardmore sighs heavily, turning around to press a button on the coffee machine and with a whirring buzz, it starts dispensing the hot drink into the mug below.
“Get to the point.” She says shortly, the tiredness from the day’s events catching up to her as she reaches for a packet of sugar on the table. Y/N nods slowly and looks away briefly. Her eyes fall on Ardmore’s pistol on top of the desk and she runs her vision over it for a while.
“What do you think of Quaritch’s actions today?” She asks after a brief moment of silence. Ardmore stops her movements for a few seconds, before pouring the contents of the packet into the coffee and grabbing a small spoon from a container next to the sugar packets.
“Are you trying to hint at something?” She responds, not replying to Y/N’s question. Y/N’s ears fold back and she shifts briefly in place.
“Come on, General. I saw your suspicion and disapproval as he shut off the scanner and asked to interrogate the boy himself. You can’t tell me you don’t think that he’s onto something.” Y/N finally presses, watching the back of Ardmore’s head carefully. Ardmore stirs her coffee slowly, grabbing the mug by the handle and turning towards Y/N again. She continues stirring her drink as she looks over at the Recom whose eyes are now flashing in a dangerous glint.
“I know what you’re trying to say. Yes, his actions seemed questionable to me because of the link the boy holds to the original Miles Quaritch. However, I don’t think anything is going on. If the scanner can’t get the information out of the prisoner then the personal approach that Quaritch will be attempting tomorrow might lead us to something.” She replies. Y/N clenches her jaw, swallowing down the saliva in her mouth before trying again.
“With all due respect, ma’am, I think you’re overlooking something that can turn into a problem later on. He’s clearly fond of the kid. He did not turn the scanner off to try and suggest interrogating the boy, he did it to save his life. I know desperation when I see it. A few more minutes in the scanner and the kid’s brain would have been leaking out of his ears. No commanding officer saves a prisoner of war like that just for the purpose of an interrogation. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to risk having an officer in my ranks who has a soft spot for a prisoner who serves our enemy.” Y/N says, looking carefully at Ardmore who has now stopped stirring and is looking back at her with a thoughtful expression. She then inhales deeply and looks away for a brief moment, before raising the mug up to her lips and taking a sip.
“I appreciate your concern, L/N. But for now, I think you’re being a bit too paranoid. However, I will be watching Quaritch more carefully, if that puts your mind at ease. For now, focus on your own team and your missions, and let me do my job and deal with my own personnel.”
Y/N clenches her jaw again, clearly disappointed at the reply she received. She thinks about it but she does not argue. Instead, with a deep sigh, she leans back onto the couch, defeated.
“As you wish, ma’am.” She replies with a bored tone, turning her vision to the handgun on the desk again.
Ardmore walks to her desk and sits down, putting the coffee mug on top of the wood surface. Y/N slowly reaches forward for the pistol, her size allowing her to do so and she takes the firearm into her hands. With a pleased expression, she starts inspecting it while Ardmore turns on her personal datapad to take a look at some reports.
“A .40 caliber United Ballistics Zarkov-33, huh. Not bad, some of my troopers use the Recom version of this too. Powerful firearm. I see why it’s our standard. Though, I’d expect you to have something more personalized, General.” Y/N comments, inspecting the tactical light-laser and rangefinder on top of the muzzle of the gun.
“Yeah? Like this?” Ardmore replies nonchalantly, her eyes still on the datapad as she reaches down and pulls out her high magazine MIL-SPEC 502. Y/N’s eyes sparkle like a kid as she sees the sidearm being put on top of the desk and she puts the Z-33 Pistol next to the keycard on top of the coffee table and immediately reaches for the new gun. She inspects it carefully from the harness system to the grip and the 16 round magazine, muttering a little “damn” under her breath as she admires the weapon with her tail swinging side to side behind her. Ardmore slowly takes another sip of her coffee, before putting the mug down and speaking to her with her eyes still on the report.
“Now please get out of my office.”
Y/N’s ears fold back as she realizes that she’s been playing with a gun like a cat with a yarn ball while occupying her commander’s office.
“Right.” She replies, putting the second gun down on the coffee table as well and standing up.
“Good night, General.” She says in a firm tone, saluting Ardmore respectfully before turning around and heading out. As the door slides closed behind her, Ardmore sighs and takes another sip of her coffee. This is going to be a long night.
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“Can you believe this? They’re helpless. Absolutely fuckin’ helpless.” Riley huffs out, raspy voice laced with irritation as he moves with his usual heavy steps and hands clasped behind his back. Y/N stands between him and Scott, the three of them walking through the training fields as soldiers run around under the sun, doing their daily drills. A bit further away, aircrafts take off and land, trains and vehicles move relentlessly, creating a noisy and busy atmosphere around them as Bridgehead city buzzes in activity as always.
“I’ve seen fuckin’ pigs more coordinated than this.”
Scott hums, raising a brow at Riley’s last comment.
“Oh com’ on LT. They jus’ stepped foot hier. Give ‘em a break, will ya?” He replies, looking at Riley who in return turns to stare at him.
“A fuckin’ break?! What do you think we’re doing here, playing nanny? We’re at war for fuck’s sake. Pull your head out of your arse.”
Y/N sighs, as Scott and Riley start going at it once again. Riley has recently been put in charge of training new recruits into enforcing the protection of Bridgehead city, seeing that Y/N and ALPHA have now taken over a good amount of Na’vi land territories, putting Bridgehead into the center of the natives’ attention. And as you might imagine, the man is not happy with his new troops’ level of skills. Not in the slightest bit. He’s been training them relentlessly, to the point that multiple recruits have passed out or thrown their guts up on the training field, for which in both cases they have gotten harsh punishment. Scott has disagreed to this for weeks now, arguing that these are the only soldiers they have available at the moment and if Riley continues like this he’ll kill them in no time, besides, the recruits that arrive on Bridgehead are already trained and what Riley is doing is unnecessary. He persistently repeats that they cannot afford to loose troops, skilled or not, because human capital is sacred on Pandora.
Y/N raises a gloved hand, stopping their argument on the spot, as they both give each other one last glare and fall quiet, turning to look at their commander.
“Riley is correct. We cannot have recruits this undertrained, especially during a time of uprising tensions. I’ll have a chat with General Ardmore about this. It seems that we need to establish new requirements for who can board on Pandora as a trooper.”
And with that both men nod and the argument is wrapped up.
“Hahaha she still pacifies you both. Better start calling her mommy.”
The three of them turn towards Lieutenant Álvarez and Captain Keller who are walking towards them, with John chuckling at Fernando’s comment. Riley scowls and Scott grins as the two higher ranking officers approach with lazy, heavy strides, hands clasped behind their carrier plates.
“I’m not listening to the comments of a man who got shot on his ass by the cartel.” Riley replies which makes Scott burst in laughter.
“Oh I forgot ‘bout tha’.” He says in between laughs as Fernando and John are now standing with them on the training ground. “Ye literally ran around the battlefield with a bullet up yer ass.”
Y/N hides a smile at Scott’s last comment as Riley and John laugh, with Fernando cracking a smile as well. After they all finish laughing he turns his head towards the recruits training some meters away from them. His tail flicks behind him in curiosity and he speaks to Riley without moving his eyes from the soldiers.
“I see you’re still not going easy on them.” He says as he watches the exhausted men and women try to not break down in the middle of the exercises.
“Yeah, it’s fuckin’ embarrassing. These are the people we’re supposed to colonize with. Pathetic.” Riley replies as all five of them are now watching the recruits. A few seconds later one of the men stops running, absolutely exhausted to the point that his body cannot move anymore and he remains behind while the group that is running laps continues. This only feeds into Riley’s irritation and with a booming voice, he yells.
“AY PRIVATE! WHAT THE FUCK?! SO WE JUST STANDING AROUND PLAYING WITH COCKS NOW?!”
His voice booms throughout the training field and multiple recruits flinch at the sound, staring up at the Recom in horror for a brief second before continuing their exercises. The poor recruit, a young man, flinches at the yelling, and stares at Riley in shock and fear.
“MOVE YER FUCKIN’ ARSE! STOP STARING AT ME LIKE YER WAITING FOR ME TO BLOW A DAMN LOAD ON YOUR FACE!” The Recombinant yells again. The terrified recruit gathers all of the strength he has left and scrams away, trying to hide in the line of the group running laps. Riley sighs in frustration, bringing his gloved hand up to rub the flat bridge of his nose as the rest of the Recoms chuckle.
“This looks like fun. I might be the one training them one of these days.” Y/N comments, crossing her arms as she watches the recruits in amusement and Riley scoffs in reply.
“Be my guest, General.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
The Recoms turn around to see Sergeant Herrera approaching them, walking with her usual swaying hips and cocky demeanor, tail moving slowly behind her. The rest give her a friendly nod as they see her walk closer and she smiles.
“General. Captain. Lieutenants. Sergeant.” She greets them all accordingly before turning to Y/N.
“General, Sergeant Davis has made another strategic plan for taking over the west forest area above the border, and he wants you to go over it. He’s currently with the science department, in the main labs, consulting them on a few details. When you have the time, your presence would be appreciated.”
Y/N hums, uncrossing her arms and turning to her.
“Thank you, Maria. Well, I’ll see you later then gentlemen. I hope the training goes well, Lieutenant Jones. I’ll speak to Ardmore tomorrow about the whole thing.”
“Yes ma’am.” They reply in unison.
The men nod, saluting her respectfully and without further ado, Y/N turns and walks away, leaving them and Maria alone on the training field. As she moves away, they all turn towards watching the recruits again, with Riley’s irritation back in check.
“NOW DROP DOWN AND GIVE ME FIFTY, MOTHERFUCKERS!”
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Y/N doesn’t particularly hate the science department. But she doesn’t like them either. They’re just there, existing in the same space as her and her troops, and she pays them no mind. The only person from her team that interacts with them on a regular is Henry Davis. Being the Master Gunnery Sergeant, he is the one responsible for coming up with new strategies, tactics and plans. That includes constantly consulting the science department on Pandora’s flora and fauna, so every possibility in a mission can be accounted for. And up until now, he has done amazing. Not only have his strategies never failed once, but he has managed to learn a vast amount of information about Pandora in an incredibly short time. To say that Y/N is very proud would be an understatement.
This is what she’s thinking as she walks through the corridors to get to the science department building. Her steps are lazy as she is in no rush, taking her time and looking around here and there. She takes a turn to a larger corridor that connects the main labs to the headquarters of the department, a spacious tunnel that also connects other parts of the building to each other. As she sets her eyes on the doors of the labs, something pounces at the corner of her vision. In a flash, Y/N has already drawn out her most powerful handgun, pointing the muzzle at the thing that now looks up at her with its yellow eyes. A viperwolf. Y/N’s senses are now fully alarmed and locked in on the creature that has stopped moving and lowered its body closer to the floor in caution, with its six limbs bent. Creatures like this have attacked her forces before. They are extremely hostile and lethal to humans. So how the fuck did an animal like this get in here? Breathing getting faster, she keeps the gun pointed at it and sensing the danger, the viperwolf clenches its snake like jaw and bares its obsidian teeth at her, growling warningly at the Recom. Y/N pulls back the slide of her gun, ready to shoot the thing dead if it tries anything. The animal growls harder, moving one clawed hand forward, and just as Y/N is about to pull the trigger-
“DON’T SHOOT HIM!”
At the sound of the feminine voice, the viperwolf runs away towards it. Y/N scowls, snapping back towards the voice to try and get a peak of the person who has let this thing loose. Her breath catches right in her throat.
Standing a few feet away from her, is the most beautiful woman that Y/N has ever laid eyes on. Flowing long locks of black hair with a few interlocked braids fall on her shoulders, bringing forth her gorgeous, beautiful face with big amber eyes that look at Y/N carefully. She is dressed in a dark blue and black uniform that Y/N has never seen before, but it has the RDA’s logo. It’s tight fitting to her thin, elegant Na’vi body, the top cropped right above her cleavage, showing a pair of firm collarbones. Her tail moves slowly behind her, still cautious at the possibility that Y/N might shoot the animal which is now hiding behind her long, elegant legs. Are all Na’vi women so breathtaking beautiful? Realizing that she’s ogling, Y/N clears her throat and relaxes her posture, putting the handgun back in its holster.
“Care to explain why you have a wild animal, nevertheless a viperwolf, running around base?” She speaks, regaining her commander voice as her ears fold back and she pins the woman with a stare. The girl’s eyes take in Y/N from head to toe, before they fall on her tail which is moving side to side behind her, betraying her hardened soldier composure. A playful smile falls on her lips and she turns her doe eyes to Y/N’s face.
“He is not a wild animal, ma’am. He is my friend. I raised him since he was a tiny cub. You’re the one who drew her weapon at an unprovoked animal.” She replies, crossing her toned arms over her chest. The woman’s soothing voice prickles goosebumps on Y/N’s skin, soft and tranquil to the ear. But Y/N is a master at hiding emotions. She scowls at the girl, raising a brow disapprovingly as she stares her judgmentally up and down.
“I’m sorry, did you say “friend”? I knew you science department chicks had a few screws loose but I didn’t think it was this bad.” She replies with a condescending tone. But instead of getting offended, the girl chuckles. That catches Y/N off guard briefly, and she looks at her with a questioning expression. The woman turns her eyes to Y/N’s, looking into them through her long lashes with an amused smile and she starts walking towards the General. Y/N can’t help but stare as even her walk is attention catching, so elegant yet humble, her long tail swinging playfully side to side. The viperwolf follows behind her, staying close to her long and toned legs and rubbing its body on her calves. She stops in front of Y/N, careful to not get into her personal space, and brings her right hand forward for a handshake.
“Name’s Toddy. I’ve heard quite a lot about you, General. You have a feared reputation ‘round ‘ere. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” She says with a smile, waiting for Y/N to engage in the handshake. Y/N can’t help but notice a faint southern drawl in her way of speaking, and she looks down at her hand, admiring the elegant veins on it for a second, before clasping it with her own. Five fingers. Thankfully not a native.
“Recombinant?” Y/N asks as they shake hands, noticing how her palm is pleasantly warm. Toddy shakes her head.
“Avatar.” She replies as they end the handshake. “Though I wish I could maintain a Na’vi body permanently.”
Y/N chuckles, crossing her arms.
“It’s not a blessing. Trust me. Try sleeping with a tail and a neural whip. Nine times out of ten you’ll crush them with your body or an elbow and you’ll wake up hissing in pain.” She replies and Toddy giggles, her tail moving behind her in delight.
“If I could have this body forever, I’d take my chances. So, what brings you to these parts of base, General? Here for Sergeant Davis I assume?”
Y/N nods once as she lightly shifts in place, with her cropped ears slightly folding back in approval. Toddy notices them and her eyes narrow for a split second, before she gives Y/N a smile.
“Well then, follow me.”
。。。
Toddy brings Y/N to one of the main labs, probably the biggest one. The viperwolf follows behind them, staying close to Toddy and occasionally looking around. The lab is noisy and filled with personnel, people running around with datapads, samples and lab equipment, some of them in white coats some others in corporate attire. Everyone seems to be deep in work, not lifting their heads from what they’re doing and deep in conversations with each other. Y/N turns to Toddy as they both walk amongst them.
“It’s quite busy in here. The scientists who we see in our parts of base aren’t usually this erratic in work. Is everyday like this?” She asks, looking at the woman next to her. Toddy shakes her head.
“Not usually. It’s often quite chill in here, people mind their own research in their labs. But since that prisoner that Colonel Quaritch brought in resisted the DPF’s NeuroSect E7.2T scanner yesterday, everyone has been scrambling to figure out a way for it to not happen again. No one has been able to understand what went wrong until now, and that’s a big problem.” She explains, looking back at Y/N. “The scanner is an extremely important tool not only for the department, but for the entire mission. It is the primary way of how we figure out different things about Pandora from the memories of the native’s, avatar’s and our own people, without having to go outside and risk our lives to gain information. If a human boy can fight it then it raises a huge uncertainty if we can use it again in the future.”
Y/N looks away in thought, watching the people around them as they make way for the two larger women and the animal to pass through the human sized facility. She then turns back to Toddy.
“So, what’s your specialization? Some fancy zoology shit?” She asks as she gives the viperwolf a glance at that last sentence and Toddy chuckles, shaking her head.
“Oh? Is the General interested in me?” She says, tilting her head teasingly with a smile and Y/N scoffs, furrowing her brows like a nine year old who has been told that her playground buddy has a crush on her. That makes Toddy chuckle.
“I’m not a scientist. I’m a scout.” She then replies, turning her head to look forward as to not bump into any humans.
“A scout? What’s that? Like the rangers we have in our department?” Y/N asks with a raised brow, moving away a female scientist that nearly walks into her.
“No, not really. Your rangers are responsible for surprise raids on the Na’vi in the forest. My job on the other hand is to go into the wild to gather the samples that the scientists and the medics require for their research or other uses.” Toddy replies, turning her hips slightly to show Y/N the sample storing bag secured on her belt. “I wouldn’t be considered a scientist since I don’t do research, but I am very well informed about the ecosystems of Pandora, as well as all of its species. At least the ones humanity has been able to discover and research up until now.”
Y/N nods once, looking slightly intrigued.
“So I’m assuming you know your way around the forest then.” She says, tilting her head slightly. Toddy grins.
“Like the back of my hand.”
They have now arrived to a spacious lab room where a bunch of specialists in white coats are talking to the large male Recom amongst them, wearing ALPHA’s casual uniform. Y/N watches momentarily as Henry continues to converse with them, before turning to the beautiful woman next to her who has been eyeing Y/N’s pretty face for a few seconds now.
“This is where we part then.”
Toddy smiles, watching Y/N through her lashes with her doe eyes before reaching for a final handshake.
“Maybe I could show you ‘round the forest sometime, General. Without the uniform and the high caliber destructive weapons.” She replies, her long ears slightly raising up as she says the last sentence to Y/N. The General grasps her hand, giving it a firm shake before letting go.
“I’ll think about it, Toddy.”
“Well alright then.”
And with that, Toddy gives Y/N one final beautiful smile before turning around and walking away. Her steps are calm and her posture is relaxed as she walks, taking her time to move her hips to her own rhythm and leisure while her tail moves side to side behind her. The viperwolf follows behind, with the paddled end of its tail wagging behind it. Y/N now notices the collar on its neck, dark blue and black that match its owner’s uniform, the dark colors almost making it blend completely to the black skin of its neck. She shakes her head and turns towards the room where Henry has now noticed his General, before walking inside.
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Title explanation:
SSDD - Same Shit, Different Day.
ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ
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ereardon · 5 months
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In The Skies || Ch. 2
[Major John "Bucky" Egan x Reader]
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Overview: On a night out in London, you meet fellow American Major John “Bucky” Egan of the 100th. As war rages on, you take a leave of absence during the spring of your third year at Oxford to sign up as a nurse on the front lines in England. Time and time again, you and Bucky find yourselves thrown together in the hospital ward as you tend to him and his teammates after missions gone awry. What happens when you find yourself falling for a man who might never return from the skies? 
Pairing: Major John “Bucky” Egan x Reader
Chapter summary: Six months after you first meet Major Egan, he shows up at the bedside of Sergeant Quinn who just happens to be your patient. Sparks fly, again.
Warnings: Smut, alcohol, cursing, definitely historical inaccuracies
WC: 2.8K
Masterlist here
“Nurse? Nurse!” 
Your head shot up, legs unfolding beneath you before you even realized, carrying you down the narrow hallway of the hospital, the floors squeaking beneath your shoes, a mixture of blood and urine and saline and muddy footprints all blurring into one. 
“It’s his leg!” You skidded to a stop in front of a man writhing in pain. 
“Morphine,” you said, nodding at the girl to your right who reached into her pocket, fingers returning with a small clear vial that you grabbed, driving it into the flesh of his thigh. The man let out a shriek, followed by blissful silence as you surveyed the scene. A severe bleed and a cracked tibia. The bone hadn’t shattered through the skin but you knew it was bad just by the way it was bulging against the flesh. “Over there,” you pointed at a gap against one wall. “I’ll get the surgeon.” 
They wheeled him away and you made your way through the maze of beds and walkways, eyes wide, a few strands of hair sticking to your temples. It was hot, too hot for how early in the year it was. Early June. You should have been graduating from Oxford. Instead, you spent your days nursing soldiers back to health, sending them back to the battlefield with missing limbs and poorly patched scars and wounds on their souls that would never heal. And somehow, it felt better than any degree ever could. 
“Dr. Peters!” Your voice rang out in the dingy corridor and the surgeon turned. He was short, with tight, dark curls and a pair of glasses that teetered on the edge of his nose. 
“Nurse,” he said, “what is it?” 
“Patient, Doctor, broken tibia.” 
“Are you sure?” 
You nodded. “Yes. I just did a visual exam, no x-ray, but I’m positive.” 
Dr. Peters eyed you. In the three months you had been stationed at Stoke Military Hospital in Devon, you hadn’t been wrong once about a patient. He knew that. The doctor sighed and put his hands in his lab coat pockets. “Alright. Show me this man.” 
***
“Y/N? Isn’t your shift done?” 
You shrugged, wiping your hands on a cloth before sticking it back in the pocket of your apron. “An hour ago, I don’t know. Still have to see Lieutenant Davies.” 
Anna raised an eyebrow. “I’ll see you at home?” 
“See you at home.” You rounded the corner and smiled. “Lieutenant Davies?” 
The gentleman on the gurney looked up with a grin. “Ma’am.” 
“How are you feeling tonight?” you asked softly, stepping closer. 
“Good as a man with one arm can be.” 
“You always keep good spirits. I like that about you.” 
“Go out with me, won’t you?” 
You laughed. “Now Lieutenant, we’ve been over this before. I don’t date patients.” 
“Won’t you make an exception?” he asked, brown eyes glittering. “Just this once? For all you know, I could be the best date you’ve ever had!” 
“Oh I bet you would be,” you said, ringing out a washcloth in a nearby basin and pressing it gently to his forehead, dragging it down the side of his face, washing his neck carefully. His soft eyes never left yours. “But that wouldn’t be fair to all the other men, now would it?” 
“Screw them,” he murmured and you laughed. “What do you say, darlin’? You and me, let’s get out of here.” 
You shook your head, dipping the washcloth once more and pressing it over his bare chest. “You’re forward, aren’t you?” 
“War taught me anything, it’s that we all die someday. Gotta make the most of every day that’s left.” 
“Amen,” you whispered, setting the rag down back in the pan. “I’m going home now. You be good, alright?” 
Davies grinned. “Aren’t I always, darlin’?” 
You chuckled, making your way down the hallway toward the doors when they burst open, a flash of night sky visible through the open doors before they swung shut. Everything in the hospital was a rush. Triage and move on. But you had long-term patients as well. Men who were there for days, weeks, even months. Ones who weren’t healthy enough to go home, and not whole enough to go back to battle. Men who had seen loss. Men who had nothing left to fight for. 
“Y/N?” A voice from your left startled you out of your thoughts. 
“Yes?” 
“Are you headed home?” 
“Just about.” 
“Can you do me a favor?” Jolene tipped her head to one side. “A patient in bed fourteen. Came in earlier today. Having a hard time sleeping. Think he just needs someone to sit with him and I’ve been here for going on twenty hours.” 
“Go home,” you insisted, practically pushing the girl out the door. “I’ll take it. What’s his name?” 
“Quinn.” She flushed. “Thank you. I owe you.” 
“Don’t worry about it.” You took a look around the room, spotting the bed that Jolene had mentioned. “Hi there,” you said quietly, inching toward the bed. “Lieutenant Quinn, is it? I’m Nurse Y/N.” 
The man who looked up at you was pale, practically ghostly. He had diminutive features, a small nose that curved upward, eyes that gapped at you from the hollows of his sockets. “Sergeant,” he croaked. There was sweat beading his forehead, his upper lip, the visible bones of his collar. “You’re promoting me.” 
You smiled, grabbing for a washcloth and pressing it to his forehead gently. “Sergeant Quinn,” you replied. “How are you feeling?” 
“Not bad, ma’am.” 
“Now don’t you go lying to me,” you reprimanded him. 
“Not good,” he said after a moment. “Feel cold. And dizzy. It’s like everything in my brain is static.” 
You pulled away the washcloth and sat down on the thin cot next to his leg. Quinn looked up, eyes wide. “What brought you here, sir?” 
“Got shot in the side,” he whispered. “Running from enemy fire.” 
“Are you a pilot?” 
“No, ma’am. I just fly with them.” 
“I met a pilot once,” you said. The memories of Bucky flooded your senses. The way his touch felt against your bare skin. The bristle of his mustache as he kissed you. You shook the memory out of your mind. You had been a different person, seven months before. Back then, war hadn’t felt so real. It was tangible now. It crept into every thought, it had made its way into every atom in your body. You were no longer a girl. You were a nurse. You were part of the war effort. 
“Oh yeah?” Quinn said, teeth chattering. “Maybe I know him.” 
You smiled. “Maybe.” You reached out, brushing one hand over his cheek, thumb stroking his sullen face gently. “Jolene said you’re not sleeping. How come that is?” 
“Every time I close my eyes,” he whispered, “I see them.” 
“See who?” 
“Them,” he murmured. “All the men we lost.” 
There was a type of pain in his voice that you hadn’t known until you joined the hospital. Now it was the only tone you could hear. It saturated every word that was spoken under this roof. “You try and sleep,” you whispered, settling down into the chair next to his bed and reaching out, taking his frail hand in yours. His was dirty, but yours was caked in dried blood as well. “I’ll stay here so you’re not alone.” 
“You don’t have to do that.” 
“Yes, I do,” you replied. “Now close your eyes.” He closed his eyes, and you did too. The next thing you knew, it was the morning and your neck was bent to one side. Your eyes opened, trying to place where you were. And then the scent hit. It was as familiar as the smell of the ocean or a new book. 
Death. 
Sergeant Quinn was asleep on the bed and you dropped his hand gently, standing up, careful not to wake him. He looked peaceful. You took a mental picture of him. That was the best you could do, you had realized. Remembering them at their best was the only way to make it through the hard days. 
The flat you shared with two other girls, both nurses, was small and tidy. You spent as little time there as possible. Not because you didn’t like it, but the only place that you felt at peace was at the hospital. Doing your part. Helping people. All of the trivial things that had mattered so much less than a year before had vanished. You stopped wearing as much makeup or caring as much about how your hair was set. You had given up pantyhose entirely. You were a different girl than you had been. 
Back at the hospital, the stench of decay and the sharp bite of stringent solutions nipped at your nose. At first it had been jarring. Now it was simply familiar. The hustle and bustle no longer felt out of the ordinary. If anything, laying down to go to sleep at night felt uncomfortable in its near silence. 
“Jolene.” You stopped the girl with one hand against her arm. She swiveled around. “How’s Sargeant Quinn?” 
She smiled. “Good. Better. Says you were the one who got him to finally rest.” 
“I tried.” 
“Few of his friends from his unit stopped by, but you should check on him. Think it would make him feel even better.” 
“I will.” You weaved around the corridors, past incoming traumas: soldiers on gurneys, soldiers limping, ones with bandages across their faces and arms and necks. Every one you gave a sympathetic look. “Sergeant Quinn,” you said, rounding the corner where his bed sat. 
Four heads turned. Three men in uniform standing in a semicircle turned and your eyes scanned them quickly before doing a double take, backtracking to the man on the far left next to Quinn’s bedside. His warm eyes flashed in recognition. 
“Y/N,” he breathed out and you felt your breath catch in your throat. 
“John,” you whispered. The room, so crowded and cloying and loud, suddenly felt very still and very quiet. Just you and Major Egan standing beneath a street lamp on a bitingly cold London evening. 
He stepped forward and you saw how even over the course of half a year he had aged. Tiny crows feet in the corners of his eyes. There was a hollowness, too. He placed your hands in his. “You’re a nurse? What about Oxford?” 
“I deferred my last semester,” you replied quietly, suddenly aware of all of the eyes on the two of you. “To help.” 
He smiled, his fingers squeezing yours. “So you’re the fantastic nurse that Quinn here won’t stop yammering on about.” 
From the bed, Sergeant Quinn blushed. “Bucky, I didn’t know.” 
You shook your head. “Nothing to know, Sergeant. Major Egan and I met a few months back. Looks like you weren’t lying when you said you were in good hands.” The memory of that one night with John brought a tingle between your legs. He grinned. 
“Are you working?” Bucky asked. 
“Always,” you replied candidly. “It never stops, you know. It’s a constant revolving door of injured men.” 
His eyes darkened. “I know.” His mouth shifted into a smile. “Take a walk with me.” 
“I have some patients to check on,” you whispered. “How long are you here?” 
“Few days,” he replied. 
“Meet me for dinner.” You listed off a restaurant nearby and Bucky nodded. 
He squeezed your hand one more time before dropping it. “I’ll be there.” 
You smiled at Sargeant Quinn. “Now I’m going to have to ask you boys to leave so I can clean the Sargeant’s wounds and replace his bandages.” 
Bucky and the two other men exited the makeshift room and you felt a shiver work its way up your spine. 
You had thought you would never see Major John Egan ever again. 
***
Normally time in the hospital sped forward, like a clock that was wound too tight. But waiting for the sun to set so you could meet Bucky felt like it was taking an eternity.
You were fixing a dressing on a soldier when Jolene popped out around a corner. “Y/N?” 
“Yeah?” 
She tipped her head to the side. “Heard there was a handsome Major here earlier asking all about you.” 
You tried to hide your grin. “Gossip.” 
“I love gossip,” she replied and you laughed. “Does that mean Lieutenant Davies is on the market?” 
You raised an eyebrow. “What happened to not getting involved with patients?” 
“He’s so charming!” 
“He is,” you replied, wiping your hands on your apron and standing up straight. “They all are.” 
“So this Major?” she asked as the two of you made your way down the hall. “How well do you know him?” 
“We only met once,” you said. “Just before Christmas, at a bar in London.”
“And?” 
You grinned and hid it behind one hand, faking a yawn. “And nothing. He’s a gentleman. He’s taking me to dinner tonight.” 
Jolene shrieked and a few patients turned their heads. You shushed her but it was no use. She was practically giddy. “God, you’re lucky,” she whined. “Ask if he has a friend, why don’t you?” 
“He has a best friend who is also a Major,” you said and her eyebrows shot up. “But don’t get too attached. He’s engaged.” 
She sighed. “All the good ones are.” 
“Not all the good ones.” 
Jolene squeezed your hand. “You go have fun. I have it covered here.” 
“You sure?” 
“Yes. Go!” She practically pushed you out of the door. 
***
When was the last time you had dressed up? Worn something other than a blood-soaked apron and saddle shoes? 
When was the last time you had gone on a date? 
Probably at Uni, but even then the lines were blurry. Was studying together over a tea equivalent to a date? Or a formal where everyone was required to attend? You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt the way you did that night in Bucky’s arms. 
Safe. 
You were late, hair pulling out of the messily placed pins, the neckline of your dress slightly crooked. As you whipped into the restaurant, peering around, you spotted John with a grin on his face, his eyes planted on yours. 
He stood as you approached the table and leaned over, pressing his lips to your cheek, one hand on the back of the chair, letting you settle into it before he pressed it inward. 
“Hi.” There was something so sincerely innocent about the way he said it. Almost shy. 
“What brings you to town, Major?” 
“A mission,” he replied. “Or the end of one, I guess.” 
“Sergeant Quinn. He’s quite impressed by you.” 
“He’s a good guy.” 
“He said you’re the better guy.” 
Bucky paused before lifting his glass of wine to his lips and taking a slow sip. Then, “I’ve thought a lot about you. Since that night.” 
“Had to send a fellow American off to war the only way I knew how.” 
His eyes darkened. “It was more than that, Y/N.” 
“What are you saying, Major Egan?” 
Bucky tipped his head. “I’m saying I haven’t stopped thinking about you, sweetheart. That not a day goes by where I haven’t wondered if I would ever see you again.” 
“Must have made an impression, then,” you whispered. 
His eyes were glued on yours. “Go out with me.” 
You laughed. “We’re on a date right now!” 
“Tomorrow,” he replied instantly. “And the night after that.”
“Let’s see how the date goes first,” you replied, “before we go making plans.” 
He shook his head. “Don’t need to wait to know what I already do. Which is that you’re the woman for me, Y/N.” 
“John,” you whispered, a blush creeping up your neck. “You’ve known me a total of two days. You can’t say something like that.” 
“I was five years old the first time I saw an airplane,” he replied. “And do you know what I thought?” 
“That you wanted to be a pilot.” 
He nodded. “Yes. The first time I ever saw a plane I knew that’s how I was going to spend my life. In the skies.” 
“You based your entire career, your whole life, around one glance at the sky when you were a child?” 
“I knew in my heart, with every inch of my body, that it was what I was meant to do.” He paused. “It’s how I felt when I saw you again earlier today. Something clicked. Something said this was right.” 
“You have to give me a second to process this,” you whispered. “I haven’t seen you in six months. And here you are, saying what exactly?” 
His fingertips met yours across the table. “All I know is that I knew the first time I saw a plane that it was going to change my life.” His eyes met yours. “And that’s how I feel now, looking at you.” 
Tagging some people I think may enjoy this:
@gretagerwigsmuse @gigisimsonmars @iangiemae @tgmavericklover @sunny747 @perfectprettypisces @na-ta-sh-aa @ryebecca @kmc1989 @spinning-away @yorkshirekiwi @clancycucumber230
#masters of the air#mota#john bucky egan#masters of the air series#major john egan x reader#bucky egan x reader#callum turner
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queermentaldisaster · 7 months
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FUCK
I read this really good fic on AO3...it was Ghoap. And the whole team was helping out another team and Ghost and Soap had been separated this whole time because Ghost was with Price while the sergeants were training recruits (if I remember correctly) and and at the end of Ghost's last meeting with the other team's COs, one of them pulls him aside and asks if they can borrow Soap to help with demolitions and Price told this specific guy (Davis?) to ask Ghost and Ghost says he'll talk to Soap then Ghost goes and finds Soap, and he's been pent up this whole time plus now he's jealous and yeah
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yen-sids-tournament · 3 months
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Happy Birthday U.S.A.
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"American" can be impact, essence, feel, experience, message --and beyond! (positive/negative/neutral considerations welcome)
Some fine print details below
full disclosure:
we were going with individual characters but got swept up in who to pick from a story and which story of a group was better. example: we wanted to do Cory in the House for a show but ultimately remembered the mashups so...
Also yes, Donald was officially drafted in May of 1942 and 'served' for many decades (it's why the nephews were left with Scrooge). Walt Disney agreed to do a lot of WW2 propaganda and continued on into the cold war
We are aware Pocahontas (95) is not historically accurate (and not popular on this site) but we couldn't justify leaving her out and there was only so much space so we tied in Brother Bear (03) knowing it wasn't ideal but hopefully better than leaving one of the out.
Camp Rock was almost matched with HSM but for personal sour memories we did not. besides there is so much more HSM relevance than CR relevance.
Now we do expect to see some of y'all mention are animal buddies like Oliver or Lady here, they would've been 12 but we needed the "other" option. (Lady is New England and Oliver is in NYC -plus Dumbo is an American circus)
finally we have realized most of this media is pretty clustered and not the most recent, but it happened this way and we're not sure which to switch out to diversify.
and as usual: all the pics are from image searches we just collogued them together
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neoarchipelago · 1 year
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Madripoor High (part 6)
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A/N: this was supposed to be some miniseries but i feel like it's turning into a slow burn again... also, this is an emotional rollercosater. I gave Y/N a backstory, tragic, similar to Ghost's one.
Warnings: TRAUMA ABUSE DEATH READ UNTIL (_-_-_-_) TO AVOID IT THEN START AGAIN AT (_-_-_-_) IF YOU WANT TO AVOID IT
+ SEXUAL CONTENT
You walked through the base, the warm sun barely helping with the cold wind. Two months. You were working on this contract for two months. You were more than frustrated. You were starting to think you simply couldn't find Echo because they didn't exist at all. 
The obvious side eyes and murmuring made you want to chuckle. Not only word of the punishments from the Lieutenant spread like wildfire. The fact that you showered alone under his close watch also spread. You were aware of the little whispers. 'the lieutenant's temptation' , 'the lieutenant's bitch' or 'whore'. You probably heard 'the forbidden pussy' at some point. You could end all of these fuckers careers with a simple search of their background, the worst skeletons in their closet unburied but you honestly couldn't care less. It was a funny change from the usuals 'criminal' 'terrorist'. 
For some reason it almost made you giddy. Of course, Ghost was entirely unaware of all of this. The cadets were way too terrified to even mumble if he was in the surrounding 20 feet. You also tried to keep it to yourself, the next punishment being way more harmful for the boys than for you. Walking up to the barracks you felt surrounded. You stopped in the middle of the hallway. Looking at the boys surrounding you. 
"Well well, little ducklings away from their mommies." You smirked. 
"How about we call you mommy huh?" You heard from one. 
"Oh sorry. I have daddy issues, not mommy ones." You teased again.
"You got a big mouth for a little thing." Someone rang.
"Not only this little thing could end your reputation, your careers and your families in a blink of an eye. But I'm not at all worried. I walk through this base with no fear." You stated. 
"Maybe that's your problem. You're FUCKING full of yourself." A man spat. 
You looked at the cadet who spoke. Of course. You were perfectly prepared for such a thing. You had an excellent memory. 
"Cadet Davis. 25 years old, divorced parents both remarried, two biological brothers, one half sister and a baby half brother on the way." The boy frowned slowly paling. "You enlisted because of your bad civilian behavior, last resort to get straight in life after not only dropping out of high school for misconduct but also out of interest per your therapist's notes." You smirked, the boys eyeing each other. "Now, I know that you and your squad sneak out every Thursday you're not on duty to play cards in one of the barracks near the east wall." Now the group paled. "I know about the phones on which you watch porn while you guys jerk off all together." You said again. 
"I know. Everything. Ending you is almost boring." You finally spat. 
"What's going on here?" You heard. 
You turned to the voice smiling at Soap and Gaz as they appeared into view. The cadets stood to attention as soon as they saw them. 
"We're bonding." You teased. Soap snickered as Gaz frowned. You crossed your arms, smirking towards the cadets. "They're such adorable boys." 
"Alright. Yeah. No doubt." Gaz said, not believing it for one second. 
"Come on, let's go. Stop giving the kids attention. They'll become soft." Soap added. 
You chuckled, shaking your head before walking to them. You threw a last glare towards the squad before climbing up with the two Sergeants. Once inside you sighed, heading for the kitchen. 
"Are you alright?" You heard Gaz ask from behind.
"I'm fine." You sighed. 
"If they're giving you a hard time you have to tell us." Soap said. 
You were going to answer when a voice rose from the couch. 
"Who's giving you a hard time?" 
You froze. The sergeant's heads snapped towards the couch. You didn't need to turn. The voice. That voice that made you want to simply fall to your knees sometimes and others want to fight him. 
"No one!" You said, walking to the fridge. 
"Soap? Gaz?" He asked, standing from the couch. The two tried to look away, one rubbing the back of his head. 
"No. One." You repeated. 
Soap grinned, heading for the fridge as well. He stood next to you, eyes roaming the inside.
"I think you should tell him." He whispered, hidden by the open door of the fridge. 
"It's fine. I'm not in any danger. And he's annoying…" you whispered back. 
He snickered, making you bite your lip. You grabbed a small juice box, turning around to sit at the counter. Soap decided he wanted juice as well, but the last one being in your hand, he closed the fridge, running behind you to steal the precious liquid. 
"Hey!" You yelped. 
He laughed running out of the room. 
"JOHNNY!" You yelled. 
Gaz smirked. 
"Just get another one…" Ghost mumbled. 
"It was the last one!" You told him, clear annoyance on your face. 
Gaz laughed softly, shaking his head as he walked out of the kitchen. You groaned, turning back to the lieutenant who didn't take his eyes off of you. 
"What?" You let out. 
He simply stared intensely at you. You started to feel that little tingle in the back of the neck, that feeling of being watched by a predator. It could work. Could. If only he knew that it wasn't fear that it elicited in you. But burning fucking need. 
That, had been a brand new problem to you. Since the shower incident, you felt yourself melt a tiny bit more under his gaze. Felt yourself shiver at his raspy voice. Felt the dangerous warmth in the pit of your stomach when you heard him scold a recruit. You didn't even want to remember how you felt when you saw him spare. His strength, his body, his eyes… oh god. 
You looked away, walking to the couch. You wanted to avoid his gaze, the way it made you feel, but also wanted to hide it from him.  Hide the way he made you feel. It didn't matter much if he knew. Two things could happen. He would like it and you'd have a wonderful night, or perhaps various ones. Or he would feel uncomfortable about it and you'd simply take a step back. No. What mattered was a certain someone could not know. 
"Muñeca.." 
You looked up at the voice. Her. She couldn't know. If she did, you'd never hear the end of it. You smiled at her, Price and Alejandro right behind her. You pat the couch next to you, beckoning her to sit down. Price called the rest of the squad as you let your head fall back. 
Soap walked in, sending you a teasing smile as you shook your head. You pat the couch on the other side, the boy not hesitating to run and jump next to you. 
"God's sake Johnny…" you chuckled. 
Price had a warm smile on his face as he witnessed the scene. The room had filled up, you started to feel the obvious important news arriving. 
"Alright. Here's the brief." Price started. 
You let your head fall on Soap's shoulder, his hand rising to playful pat and or gently slap your cheek. You pushed his hand away, trying to listen to the captain. 
"Thanks to Tracker's latest Intel, we have eyes on a cartel.  Squad 141 will be heading out tomorrow for a recon mission." You frowned but didn't say anything. "It should be a few days. Until then, Laswell will be here to help you, colonel Vargas and Rudy will also remain here with the Prisoner. " 
"Cabron." She spat. 
You chuckled, playfully slapping her arm. Price chuckled as well, a darker tone to it as he eyed Valeria. Price continued, falling into more detailed information about their mission. You zoned out. For as much as you tried to avoid thinking of it, you couldn't stop. The skull face kept showing up again and again in your brain. You wondered how his hands would feel on your skin. How it would feel to trace his faded tattoos. Did he have more? You were sure he did. You wanted to search for them. His blond lashes flashed in your brain. Was his hair also blond? Was his happy trail-
"Tracker?!" Valeria snapped her fingers in front of your face. You snapped out of your very spicy daydream as you frowned. You looked up at her. 
"Are you ok muñeca?" She asked, a little frown on her face. Soap immediately jumped as well to look at you. 
"I'm… fine!" You stammered. It obviously didn't help your case, now the room was looking at you. You felt yourself blush and heat up under the scrutinizing gazes. 
"Are you sure, you look a bit red…" soap added with a worried look. You wanted to scream and hide. He wasn't helping at all. 
"I'm fine!" You said again. 
Ghost stepped closer, your heart jumping in your chest at the sight of the object of all your nasty thoughts eyeing you again. A hand touched your cheek, Soap testing your body warmth with the back of his hand. 
"Your pupils are dilated… and your heartbeat is a bit fast." He stated..
"Oh god please shut up…" you finally whined, embarrassment washing over you. "I'm fine, really, maybe got a bit sick overnight it's nothing really…" you lied. 
"Perhaps you should go over to the infirmary." Price said with a little worry in his eyes too. 
"No it's ok… thank you. I'll rest a bit." You finished with a smile. God if he knew it was simply you fantasizing about his Lieutenant. 
You avoided eye contact with everyone for the rest of the briefing, scurrying off discreetly to your room as soon as it was over.  
You could finally take a deep breath once the wooden door shut itself. You barely had time to take a step forward before the door opened again. You turned, falling eye to eye with deep brown orbs. You frowned, swallowing hard before turning back towards your bed. 
"Yes lieutenant ?" You asked. He stared. "You have a staring problem, Ghost." You stated. 
He crossed his arms leaning back against the door. The t-shirt he was wearing showed his arms perfectly. The sleeved tattoo almost plastered for everyone to see. 
"Now you're the one staring." 
You snapped out of the day dream. You were in fact staring. You snickered, turning back to your bed where you let yourself fall upon. You groaned into your pillow. You felt a wave of frustration splash onto a shore of exhaustion. You felt like the heavy weight you weren't aware of, finally fell on you. You turned your head to the side, staring at the wall. Should you glance at him? Was he still staring? 
The sound of the lock echoed. Heavy boots stomped on the floor, the sound growing closer before it stopped next to the bed. Your body tensed. What..
Shock filled you as you felt two arms turn you around. You laid on your back, watching the man kneel on the bed, letting himself down as well, his head on your chest. Your heart was threatening to jump out of your chest. 
"What… are you?" You questioned. 
His body flexed as the shock in your voice. You anticipated him trying to stand back up. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, one on his head. Not a word was said. You let yourself enjoy the moment. The heaviness of his body on you was making you sleepy. He had relaxed, his body reacting to the soft caresses on his head and back. 
"Who's giving you a hard time?" You heard. 
"No one…" you mumbled through sleepiness. 
He groaned a bit but didn't move. His hands caressed the skin of your waist under your shirt, slow circles that gave you goosebumps. You sighed in content. You felt the heat. The breaths. It was a blink of an eye. And he was on top of you, his head in your neck, biting and sucking softly at the skin, one hand over your breast underneath your clothes, pressing his hard cock against you. 
The feeling of him, so close yet so far, was unbearable. He teased you, clothes keeping any real contact from each other. You wanted to rip your own pants and panties off to finally let him thrust into you. 
"Simon.." you moaned. 
A low chuckle answered your whines, only making you more and more desperate. 
"So needy. Have you been craving this? Thinking about how my hands would feel against your soft skin? Have you been fantasizing about my mouth biting and marking you? Shit…" he chuckled darkly again. "You've been imagining my cock stretching your pretty little pussy, haven't you?" 
You wanted to say no. Throw some snarky comments but you couldn't. Like some spell had hit you, making you unable to be anything but submissive. 
"Of course you have… look at you. You're thinking about it right now." You frowned at his words. "You're dreaming of it…" 
Your eyes flashed open, the white ceiling staring back at you. Your heart was racing, the silence and darkness of the room enveloping you, bringing you back to reality. So now, you were having wet dreams of that asshole?! You grabbed a pillow throwing it over your face to muffle an annoyed loud groan. The fluffy thing was quickly discarded with rage. What happened? What exactly made things turn out this way? The way he had looked at you in the showers while he was manhandling some perv who had been watching you? 
The fury in his eyes, the way he barked his orders at the boys, anger obviously biting through the air. The way he had effortlessly grabbed you by the waist to pull you up and make you sit on top of the little wall. He had wanted to punish you. He had been nothing but correct with you yet you felt like some Victorian man who's been shown ankles. 
Perhaps a warm drink would help. Some tea. You threw the covers away, standing up to escape your room towards the kitchen. You tiptoed your way through the hallway, the silence and shadows only remembering you that the team was sleeping at this hour. You flipped the light switch, blinding light burning your eyes for a split second. You decided against it, only turning on the soft lamps over the kitchen counter. 
Putting some water to boil in the kettle, you browsed through the various teas the team had. One good thing about so many British men. You picked out something that sounded pretty classic with still a tint of originality. Time ticked, waiting for the water so you could make your tea, you stretched your neck, rubbing the back. Flashbacks of the night at the hotel rushed through your mind. His hand around your throat, the fear and panic in his eyes once he realized what he was doing. The flinch when you tried to pull him to you. 
Something made you wonder what happened. What was it that made him, Ghost, crumble in the past? If he had even crumbled. The kettle clicked, notifying you that it was ready. You poured the hot liquid in your mug before heading to the counter and sitting in one of the high chairs. 
Sexually tortured. Lots of things came to mind. Every single one of them sent a disgusting taste to the back of your brain. Madripoor wasn't a stranger to these things. Human trafficking and other things were unfortunately part of the world you lived in. You were clearly against it, refusing contracts from cartel's and bosses. Making sure to bombard their plans and send a message to the high table. At least, in Madripoor, it wasn't allowed. 
But him? Curiosity made you want to peek at his file. It would be easy but… a part of you didn't want to break his trust. Or at least the tiny piece of trust if he had any towards you. It was fascinating to you how this mountain of a man, a beast, a hunter on the field, could have been so close to being broken. Obviously it hadn't fully worked, and he had built himself a reputation that the high table itself was aware of. 
All of these thoughts to avoid asking yourself the real question. Why was he constantly in your mind? What was with him… that since the first encounter, when he had chased you through the warehouse and trapped you, he simply attracted you. You were worried about what this might mean, as you watched the swirl of the liquid in your cup. 
"What did that mug do to you?" 
You jumped, turning to the doorway. 
"God sake! Please put a bell around your neck…" you scolded. 
He shook his head walking to you.
"Why are you up? Not feeling good?" He asked, nodding towards the tea. 
Ah yes. You were supposed to be feeling 'sick'. You smirked, looking back at your mug. 
"I'm fine. Just couldn't sleep." You stated. "There's hot water if you want some tea." You offered after a heartbeat. He couldn't sleep either. It was obvious. Was it his nightmares?
He moved towards the kettle, grabbing a mug in the process. You watched his movements, his muscles flexing with his movements as he made himself a cup of tea. You kept your eyes on him as he walked back to sit on the chair next to you. 
"You have a staring problem." He teased, staring back at you. 
"You're the one staring at me…" you whispered. 
His eyes faltered, slight twitch of his brows. You were blatantly staring at him, a little focused look on your face as if you were trying to figure out some riddle he had dropped. He had tensed again. 
"Simon.." you started in a whisper. 
His head tilted, questioning the reasons of his name on your lips. 
"I… what happened…?" You asked. 
He blinked, once, twice, before the dreadful realization fell on him. 
"None of your fucking business." He snarked.
You sighed. 
"I know. I'm sorry… I didn't mean to intrude. You don't have to tell me anything." You let out, turning back to your mug. 
The clock on the wall ticked, filling the silence with even more tension. You sipped on your wall beverage, closing your eyes as the liquid slid down your throat. 
"Why." He asked. You turned to him, confused. "Why are you asking this? Right now." He asked again, eyes boring into your very soul. "Did… did I… was I not correct towards you?" 
You felt a cold shower rush through the fibers of every muscle in your body. 
"What? No! No." You shook your head. "Simon. You've been… very correct with me. You haven't overstepped, or made me uncomfortable. It's fine." You reassured him. 
He took a deep breath, his broad shoulders rising before slumping back. 
"Why are you so worried that you'll overstep?" You asked in a low voice. 
He watched you carefully. He didn't trust you enough to say that. Not enough to tell you the truth. And you understood that. 
"You haven't." You caught his attention again, giving up on finding answers. "You've been a gentleman, apart from being annoying." You chuckled with a teasing smile. "And I… promise that if I ever feel uncomfortable, I'll be honest with you and give you a heads up." You finished with a soft smile. 
He nodded after a second of pondering. 
"You call Soap Johnny." He let out. 
You rolled your eyes with a little chuckle. 
"Are you jealous?" You teased. 
"No. But he doesn't let just anyone call him that." He explained. 
You were surprised by the revelation. Slightly taken aback by the confession that Soap had let you be a special person to him. 
"He reminds me… of my little brother." You whispered, looking at the wall. 
Ghost remained quiet. He sipped on his tea, waiting for you to either keep talking and explain or simply change the subject. 
"You're not going to ask…?" You questioned. 
"I haven't answered any of your questions. I don't deserve asking you some." He explained in a soft tone. 
"You deserve to ask them. It is, however, up to me to answer them, or not, like you did." You smiled at him. 
"I'm not really into… family talk." He answered honestly as he winced. 
"Don't worry." You whispered, his head turning towards you. "Me neither…" you said, trying to hide the sting of pain from being too obvious. 
But he noticed. Of course he did. He nodded, his hand raising to pat your head softly before turning back to his tea. It made you huff a laugh. You sipped your tea again before turning back to him. 
"How did you become Ghost?" You asked. He closed his eyes, groaning. "Too close…?" You asked. He didn't answer. "Sorry. I think I'll just shut up." You chuckled. 
"How did you become Tracker?"
You froze as the cup was barely inches from your lips. It hit close too. Way too close for comfort. Did you want to tell him? The amount of people who knew the truth could be counted on the fingers of a single hand. 
"Too close?" He asked. 
You took a deep breath, putting down the cup on the counter, eyes staring at it, as if it'd help you through the dilemma. Telling him the truth. Do you trust him? Yes. Enough to talk about it? Perhaps it would help him unravel himself to you. He had started saying something when you cut him. 
(_-_-_-_)
"My father was the type of man who loved the bottle more than his kids." You started. Simon immediately remained quiet, watching you. 
Deciding on avoiding his gaze, you let yourself get lost in the brown liquid of the mug as the flashbacks and memories rushed back in. "It was always hard. The abuse. I tried my best to stand in the middle of him and my mother and siblings. I mostly managed." 
You snickered to yourself bittersweetly. 
"But things didn't get better. I was almost 17. I was out with some friends. He had been out for two days, we had no news. I didn't know." 
"Y/N-" he started. But it was as if you couldn't hear him anymore. Words overspilling. 
"He had decided that he wasn't happy. And that if he couldn't be happy, no one else could. I got home, probably… twenty minutes after he did. And, he had enough time to.." 
You frowned, feelings bubbling up in your throat the more you spoke. Simon scooted closer with his high chair, legs spread as your chair rested in between. You still avoided his gaze. 
"He had killed them all. My mother, my sister and her husband. Their two kids. My little brother…" Your voice lowered. Tears swelling at the corner of your eyes. "He tried to kill me on sight. While I was in shock of seeing my family murdered on the living room floor. Blood everywhere. So… long story short. The neighbors had already called the cops, they arrived as we were fighting outside in the lawn. I ended up stabbing him repeatedly." You took a long sip from the tea, trying to calm the raging burn in your throat from holding back the tears. 
"On that night, at the police station, the social workers arrived and talked to the cops. I overheard them talking. How I was already old and almost an adult. That no foster homes would want a kid who killed someone. That I needed psychiatric help. And families would still refuse to take me in." 
You finally turned to him, trying a small smile. You felt your heart skip a beat as he eyed you intensely. It was hard to understand what his eyes conveyed. 
"So, I ran off. I used the moment where the window was unattended. They were too busy. So I hopped out and ran. Managed to get into my house in the upstairs bedroom even while the cops were there. Took some stuff, my laptop mostly. And I ran." You sighed. "This story is taking forever…" you laughed a bit, trying to lie to yourself that these emotions, this trauma wasn't affecting you anymore.
(_-_-_-_ bad childhood daddy issues, family dead) 
"So, I stayed in the streets for a few months, coffee shops would give me wifi and I already had some basis on hacking. Made sure to steal money from bank accounts to buy food and stuff like that. Some cartel boss eventually heard of me and offered me a deal. I accepted, became known over the years as I got better and better. The high table of Madripoor decided to bring me on their side once my… talent was widely known." You smacked your lips together, looking away. 
"There it is. The story of Tracker…" you whispered in a sarcastic, tasteless voice. 
He leaned forward as you turned to him, his forehead touching yours as your eyes opened wide. A little soothing gesture. 
"You did good." He whispered.
It was three simple words. No special tone, no actual praise. But it made the tears fall. You tried to catch your breath as he froze. You shook your head, cracking a smile as you closed your eyes. 
"I'm ok… I'm ok." You sniffled, leaning back. 
You opened your eyes, brushing away the tears with your fingers. 
"It's ok." He said. 
You smiled even more, nodding softly. His hand had someone ended up on the small of your back, his thumb drawing slow circles. You closed your eyes at the sensation. It was reassuring. Calming. When you opened your eyes, he tilted his head, eyeing you with curiosity. 
"You ok?" He asked. 
"Yeah… just… your fingers-" 
He stilled. Realizing his action. His hand flew off like your skin was a scorching braze. 
"Shit… sorry…" he was ready to stand when you put your hand on his chest. 
"Simon. It's fine. It was a soft gesture. I saw no harm in it. Breathe…" you reassured. 
His eyes stuck to yours, he tried to even his breath. 
"You look… so ok. With my touch." He said. 
"Hmm…" you started. "Well. Your touch is nothing inappropriate. It's soothing so I don't mind." You explained. "I mean… you've had me naked in your arms" you teased. 
He straightened his neck at the thought, making the heat rush to your cheeks. 
"It's fine Simon…" you repeated. 
"You wouldn't be fine if you knew the whole truth… you wouldn't want me to touch you." He hissed, anger biting at himself more than you. 
You sighed, scooting your chair even closer, forcing him to spread his legs even wider. His eyes were fixating on you, burning through your skin, his body as stiff as stone. You let your head slowly fall to his chest, forcing him to straighten himself and hold you so you wouldn't slip and fall off your chair. You could hear his heart stammering against his rib cage. 
"Maybe. But right now. After knowing you for a few months, I trust you. And I don't mind your touch at all." You whispered. 
"You're insane…" he whispered back. 
"Without a single doubt…" you chuckled under your breath. 
You remained like this for a little while. You could feel his heart calming down. You were falling asleep at the sound of his steady heartbeat. He realized it as your body felt slightly heavier in his arms. He shifted quickly, picking you up bridal style. Your eyes snapped open at the sudden shift. Looking at him. 
"You're ok." He simply said. 
You sighed, letting your head against his shoulder. He walked to your door, opening it before walking in, heading to your bed. He slowly dropped you down, letting you settle in bed comfortably. The way he watched you, standing over the bed, it made you feel… surprisingly secure. You threw him a sleepy smile as he softly brushed a hair strand away from your face. After a long minute, he walked away, closing the door softly behind him. 
Your eyes were closing on their own, the image of him lulling you to sleep. 
The next morning, you woke up to silence. You opened your eyes, fighting the need to keep them close as the light shone through the window. You sighed, getting up and throwing some sweatpants and a t-shirt on before stepping out into the hallway. The eerie feeling of the empty place felt heavy on you. You walked to the kitchen, looking around. No one. You sat at the counter, noticing a small paper. 
'out on mission, be back soon, Alejandro and Rudy are still on base if you need anything! -squad 141' 
You smiled. It was obviously soap's handwriting, and the thought warmed your heart. You frowned. You felt… lonely. It wasn't something unusual for you. Even in Madripoor, walking through town or resting on the large couch in your living room, you felt lonely. This kind of loneliness however. You hadn't felt it in a while. The one you felt on that night. You shook your head. It was silly. Nonsense. Something however, screamed in the back of your mind, that the relationship you were creating with this team was getting concerning. Dangerous… it wouldn't end well. 
Getting attached to them, it could be a terrible mistake. And you could feel it. That it was getting way too close for comfort. Lying to yourself, however, sounded like a much better solution. 
You took a deep breath, looking up at the kitchen counters. Breakfast. And then. Work. 
It was late. Around four in the morning. You rubbed your eyes as they started to get blurry from the screen light in the dark conference room. You stretched, checking the time a last time, settling your mind on packing your things and going back to the barracks to get some sleep. 
The base seemed to be asleep, the few soldiers patrolling around being the only noise you could hear. You walked through the hallways, your backpack on your back, already dreaming about the warmth of your bed. The tingling feeling at the back of your neck however, warned you that someone… was clearly watching you. It was becoming even clearer that they were following you. You sighed, taking sharper turns into darker alleys. You tiptoed your way into a warehouse, jumping on some iron ladder to make your way up to the first balcony on top. You slowly made your way to a little hideout, perfect for you to see, without being seen. You waited, watching the entrance. 
Three shadows made their way in, looking around. You easily recognized three of the men from squad 8. You shook your head slowly. Idiots. Observing the three as they looked for you, you let your head fall against the wall behind you. You were tired. You didn't need this right now. A part of your brain kept watch over the boys as they walked back to the entrance, the other was drowning in sleepy thoughts. Finally alone in the warehouse, you remained sitting on the ground, against the wall. You waited to make sure they were gone. But your eyelids keep closing themselves, as you battled and battled but allowed them to remain closed a little while longer each time. 
It was the rough sound of the warehouse door being rolled open that made you jolt awake. Your heart pounding, you took in your surroundings. A team had walked in, taking their gear as they were briefing each other on the next training. You looked around, noticing how the sun was already shining through the door. 
"Shit.." you mumbled. 
You rose to your feet, feeling the ache in your body from the very uncomfortable sleepy spot. You groaned, making your way to the ladder. You climbed down, jumping down the last few steps, the sound of your shoes echoing. The attention of the team was brought upon you as you simply nodded their way with a 'good morning'. You walked out into the sun. The warmth of it did nothing to help the exhaustion from your body. 
Unfortunately, the same thing occured again and again. You found yourself having to avoid certain spots, certain people. At some point after a few nights, you realized that they weren't afraid to enter the barracks, making your own room unsafe. You had to find a way to sleep somewhere, in different spots every night. You decided to keep it to yourself, not wanting to bother Alejandro and Rudy who probably had a lot to deal with already. Frustration was starting to grow to an impossible level. The bad sleep, it kept you on edge. 
It had been almost two weeks when you decided that enough was enough. You decided that if they wanted to act like idiots, and come after you, then you'd treat them like that. You spent a full day preparing a little forgotten room, adding the perfect illegal things in it. It was used as some 'throw everything in' room. It was therefore quite easy to drop some things. Drugs, confidential files you had… found… laying around. 
That night, you made sure to stay extra late, working on your laptop before making your way to the room, the boys obviously following you. You grinned, stepping into the room before quickly running to your hiding spot. As the three boys walked in behind you, you immediately texted Laswell. 
You waited. Patiently, watching the three search around the various crates, boxes and old furniture, coating their hands in the various substances you had flung around the room. When Laswell arrived she was closely followed by Alejandro and a few men. You didn't exactly pay attention to what was going on as they interrogated the recruits, or when they were dragged out. You sighed, swiftly getting out of your hiding place to walk out the door. You made sure to be far enough from the big group, walking away. 
It was a good start. It wouldn't make them stop. But it'd help. You let yourself lean back against a humvee, crossing your arms. You waited, until you saw his frame. 
"Colonel…" you greeted. 
"Tracker." He greeted back. 
He looked at you, frowning. Even under the dim light of the courtyard, it was clear to see how tired you were. You had been in a worse state. But this wasn't that kind of mission. 
"Everything alright princesa?" 
You smiled at the nickname. 
"I'm… tired." You answered honestly. 
He frowned, taking a few seconds to think before he looked at you. 
"This… was you?" He asked. You nodded. "Why?". You didn't have time to answer. "They bothered you? Pendejos." 
You smirked to yourself. It was incredibly obvious how similar Valeria was to him. 
"I'm fine. It was just slightly annoying. They've been distracting me from my work…" you said. 
"Come on. You'll sleep with us tonight." 
He nodded towards a building before starting to walk, leaving no room for discussion. 
You were glad to be able to sleep near the vaqueros. Valeria was in a cell nearby. You had spent a very calm night, waking up quite late. Rudy had very kindly offered you his room. Unfortunately, you couldn't just spend the entire time in Rudy's room. You talked to them, including Laswell, offering for them to move into the squad's barracks. They were skeptical, especially towards letting Valeria into anything else than a cell. You assured them that Valeria wouldn't be a problem, warning her that if she didn't behave, you'd hunt her down yourself. 
She had pouted, angrily cursing at the vaqueros. Eventually, they had moved into the barracks, and you were glad to be back to your little room. You could finally rest a bit, without constantly having to watch your six. On the other side you felt like you missed the team. You missed hearing Soap and Gaz laughing together, Price talking and the smell of his cigars. But you also missed him. All of that combined with the fact that you seemed stuck in your current search was starting to feel like too much. 
You sat on the ground, the laptop on the coffee table looking at you mockingly. 
"What's wrong muñeca?" Valeria asked. 
"I'm… frustrated. I can't find anything about 'snake'. Obviously that guy is keeping Echo's identity secret like some kind of fucking bodyguard. I can't find anything that could identify it. Nowhere, in all of the underground, can I find a single clue on 'snake'..." You vented. 
You groaned, letting your head fall into your hands. Rudy sat nearby, the poor boy on babysitting duty as Alejandro was with Laswell for the day. You heard some commotion, looking up. 
"VALERIA!" You yelled. 
The woman had knocked out the poor man, hovering over his unconscious body. 
"Calm down… he's sleeping." 
"Why did you do that?!" You scolded. 
"I wanted to offer you tequila. He wouldn't have agreed." She shrugged, walking to one of the cupboards. 
"You didn't even try asking him!" You angrily said. 
She shrugged again, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the cupboard before walking to you. She closed the laptop, putting it aside as she opened the bottle. 
"You need to breathe a bit" she teased with a wink. 
You shook your head, bewildered. It was an obvious Valeria move. You watched as she stood again grabbing a chair before lifting Rudy to sit on it. She then handcuffed him, making sure that he wouldn't escape. 
"Valeria…" you scolded. 
"He's fine! Come on." She sat back next to you after grabbing two cups. 
You watched as she poured the liquid into them. Maybe… you did need to relax a bit. 
But as per habit. Every Valeria move would end up in some kind of chaos.
-----
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@kiruoris  @kaeyamain-zonglilover  @salsa-reads-stuff  @coacaiyne @hufflepuff-hugz 
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