#almost a fully functioning kitchenette now

[beanbowl]

new dinnerware and kitchen towels are in their places.

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Bonus Chapter)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

Word Count: 3700+

A/N: I got some motivation for a bonus chapter and a lot of you guys reached out asking about some. So here is a cute little side story with the two! I hope you guys enjoy it while I take my time getting through all my other WIP!🥰

______________

Bucky’s POV: 

The mission yesterday was brutal for the team—so much so that Tony vouched for us and ensured we’d have the next two days without any form of work to interrupt our much-needed break. That meant we were off-duty, unless a world-ending turn of events came up, for the next 48 hours—starting the morning after we got home from said brutal mission. 

My first stop as soon as I got up and around was Y/N’s room. She had left the field yesterday more beat up than any of us after she was cornered and her backup had fled. Something I was royally pissed about, but it was some lower agent she was paired with to train. I offered, considering the kid was known for being squeamish, and it was originally meant to be a low-level operation. But apparently, someone with a gentler and friendlier disposition was preferred for the agent's training lesson. But of course, the tides turned, and Y/N was left on her own fighting off a dozen armed men, yet unsurprisingly, she came out on top. 

Although she claimed the various cuts, bruises, and pulled muscles in her quad were manageable, I knew she would be horribly sore today and, therefore, grumpy—understandably so. 

I thought I’d get a head start on helping her, considering things have grown between us since our first date four months ago. 

We hadn’t made it official, and we were taking it slow since there was so much to learn about each other after years of distancing ourselves from one another. 

We’ve had as many dates as time allowed since then, and the team has caught on, but again, we’re taking it slow. So slow, in fact that we kept to our respective rooms for personal space outside of movie nights, considering we lived together for almost a month and technically still do live together, even if across from the hall. We saw each other all the time, and we thought it best that we hold on to that piece of individuality at the start of our relationship so as not to rush anything. 

But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find any chance I could to come hang out with her in her room and spend time with her as often as I could.

I meant it back at the house when I said I envied my teammates for getting to experience a version of her that actually likes you as a person. The change in pace has been eye-opening, and I’ve become somewhat addicted to the time I spend with her now. 

“One second!” I heard from the other side of the door after I knocked, and the tone alone showed me she was not happy. 

“I brought you some breakfast and pain meds, Y/N/N,” I said into the barrier. Seconds later, the door unlocked, and a battered Y/N looked up at me miserably. “Hey, sweetheart.” I couldn’t help the pout in my lip seeing my girl beat up. 

There was bruising under her eye, a butterfly stitch on her cheekbone, and a few bruises visible on her legs where she was wearing one of the biggest t-shirts she owned as a nightgown. 

“How bad does it look? I’ve been inching out of bed for the last 10 minutes because of how stiff I feel, and I haven’t made it to the bathroom to look,” she cringed as she rubbed the uninjured side of her face in exhaustion.

“You make black eyes look hot,” I answer, leaning to kiss the top of her head as I sneaked past her into the apartment and move to the kitchenette on the side. 

We all have a fully functioning studio apartment at the compound, but since we share the main spaces of the living room and kitchen, our personal ones are much smaller and more so for convenience than anything else. 

“Appreciate that, but also, I’d rather put on a sexy dress to look hot than get punched by a 240 lbs man with a mean right hook,” she sighed, shuffling to follow after me and sit at the end of her bed as she watched me plate a breakfast burrito and a fruit parfait. 

“Sexy dress or not, you exceed the threshold in the looking hot category no matter what.” I’m lucky enough to get a soft chuckle from her as she pulls a blanket from her bed and wraps it around her body, snuggling close to it with a few grunts and moans of pain. “Outside of that, I’m going to hunt down that twirp from yesterday and give him a nice talking-to about leaving your partner in the dust.” I look up and point to her with a spoon before stabbing it into the yogurt and bringing it to her. 

“Honestly, if I hadn’t seen worse, I would have run the other direction, too,” she wiggled an arm free to grab the cup and thanked me before continuing. “For it being one of their first onsite missions, seeing a dozen armed bodyguards, and not one of them being under 200 lbs running full force at you? I’d be surprised if he didn’t shit his pants on the way out.”

I laughed at the image since Y/N and I had seen far worse, and what she was describing was just another Tuesday to us. 

“Regardless, you don’t leave your teammates to fend for themselves. Especially in that scenario. He could have at least grabbed you and ran the other way,” I mumbled, grabbing my burrito from the counter and moving to sit with her on the bed. 

“Grabbed me and run?” she scoffed, swirling the fruit and granola together. “You’re a funny man, Barnes.” 

“You know what I mean,” I shoulder bump her lightly, and she sighs, digging into the breakfast. “Meds the Doc prescribed you are on the counter. You need to take them with food 2x a day to keep the pain at bay.”

“It’s fine. The pain is ma-”

“If you say manageable, I’m going to make you walk from this side of the room to your bathroom and prove you’re fine. Meaning, no cringing, limping, or grunts in the process.”

She stared at me in a challenging manner. That much had not changed in our relationship whatsoever. I just didn’t get death glares with them anymore.

“I can walk to my bathroom just fine,” she rolls her eyes, staying stationary and distracting herself with breakfast. 

“Sure you can,” I nodded, taking a bite of my own and keeping my eyes solely on her. 

I could tell she was growing squirmish under my gaze. The uncomfortability matched with uncertainty in her claim. I mean, come on. She gave it away that she wasn’t fine when she said it took her 10 minutes to ease out of bed. 

“Stop staring at me,” she grumbled, lazily eating to drag out her inevitable defeat. 

I hummed, standing and moving to grab some hot sauce in her cabinet. “Oh, by the way, the team’s doing a day of pool Olympics tomorrow. Sam’s asked for a rematch in chicken.”

“As long as I get a rematch in categories.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re going to be participating in the games much,” I scrunched my nose at her with a grin before taking a giant bite.

“By tomorrow, I’ll be back to new,” she groaned and stood up too fast, stilling herself, seeing she’d overdone it. But not wanting to get caught, she played it off as stretching and taking her time. “I have an above-average healing rate, after all.” 

“Maybe, but not nearly as fast as I’d prefer,” I placed the meal back on my plate and wiped my hands off on a towel before coming to her side to help her take some weight off her bad leg.

“As you’d prefer? Please do elaborate on what you’d prefer, Sarge?” The cockiness in her voice made me look down at her and grin at her orneryness. 

“You know I’d prefer you wrapped up in bubble wrap and in a magic forcefield the rest of your life that keeps you out of harm's way. I’ve never liked seeing you hurt or in pain. But unfortunately, due to realism, and already trying to do that with Steve, I know it's not attainable,” I answered, both hands on her shoulders. Now, let me take this.” I quickly grabbed the parfait and placed it on the counter before offering my arm. 

“I can walk to the bathroom on my own.”

“Standing showed me otherwise.”

“Are you going to hold my hand while I pee too?” 

“If you asked me, I 100% would. But knowing you, you’re a little too stubborn for that,” I winked as she walked with more weight on me than she’d care to confess. 

“Just a little,” she grunts when she loses her footing, and I catch her. 

“Hm, about that help…”

“Shut it,” she mumbles and shuts the door behind her as she gets ready for the day.

_______________

“Where’s Y/N at?” Wanda asked, meeting me in the hall and following after me. 

“Med bay. I made her go get a check-up with Banner since she’s hellbent on playing in the water games tomorrow,” I answered once she was by my side, my stride slowing so she could catch up. 

“Do you think she’ll actually listen to anything he says if he doesn’t give her the all-clear?” she asked with a laugh. 

“Doubtful, but I can be hopeful.”

“Things are going well for you two then, huh?” I could hear the grin in her voice before I looked down at her. “Crazy to think, considering just a few months ago, I wouldn’t hold it against her to have your head on a plaque hanging in her room just because you looked at her wrong.”

“Crazy the things a little communication can do,” I winked and threw an arm around her shoulders before squeezing her into my side. “That and patience. Lots and lots of patience.” 

“You do have a surprising amount of that stuff in ya, big guy,” she patted my chest as we turned to the hall where Y/N was. 

“Ow, son of a bitch!” sounded from the corner of Banner’s office, and we shared a look. “Obviously, that isn’t going to feel good, injured or not, Bruce!” 

“May need to save his ass,” Wanda whispered, and we hurried our steps to the space. 

Inside, Bruce was laughing as he logged in her symptoms and any other notes doctors take in these instances. 

“Just proving to you that playing any high-impact sports, which are almost any of the ones that include the team, isn’t going to help the healing process,” he told her as she rubbed her thigh with the heel of her hand. 

“Sam told me he doesn’t plan on holding back,” Wanda cut in just as I saw Y/N rearing up to retort something to the scientist. “Something about revenge for the last time we held a water Olympics.” 

“Empty threats,” Y/N sighed, turning to me. I was still getting used to the fact that I caused her body to ease tension rather than create it now. “Banner gave me the all clear,” she says to me in a very convincing way... If I wasn’t a trained spy. 

“I did not,” Bruce was quick to turn and shake his head.

“Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t even know what a vastus lateralis is!” she pointed and thought about hopping off the medical table she was on but realized the fast movement would only prove Banner’s point. 

“Um, I very much know what the vastus lateralis is, considering I just told you you strained yours, and it needs to heal fully before you take on any high-mobility actions. You’re the one who asked if it was a witch incantation.” Bruce pointed a pen at her and moved back to his floating screens. 

“Can confirm it is not a witch incantation,” Wanda spoke up, moving to Y/N’s side by the medical equipment table and started playing with the tools. 

“Who’s side are you on?” she furrowed her eyes at the redhead, and I moved to lean on the table next to her, my thigh touching her knees hanging over the edge of the stainless steel. “I really think he’s exaggerating. I can walk on it and everything just fine.” 

Her eyes are leveled with mine while she’s sat higher up, and she gives me pathetic puppy dog eyes like it’ll sway me. And it almost does, but I cup her face in between my hands and squeeze so that her lips are pursed. 

“Nice try. Not going to work on me, doll,” I grin and kiss her nose before turning back to Banner. “How long are we talking about being fully healed? I don’t know how much more gaslighting I can take about her pain level.” I get a swift smack to my shoulder, but it barely stings. I grab her uninjured leg and squeeze her kneecap as she leans on my shoulder for support. 

“With her enhanced healing, I’d give it about three to five days before it’s healed enough for training or anything else. For any other normal person, it would be about a six-week process. Count yourself lucky,” Banner answers, only looking back for a second. 

“Still bullshit,” she grumbles and fidgets with the sleeve of my t-shirt. “So are you saying I have to be a bystander for tomorrow’s games?” 

“And quite possibly be benched for the coming week. Meaning no more missions until you’re given the all clear,” Banner turns around at his last statement. 

“Wait, what?!” 

“You heard me. You just don’t like what you heard,” he smirks. 

“I don’t quite like you right now, Bruce…” she says lowly, collapsing her head on my shoulder and groaning. 

“Don’t worry,” I turn and offer a hand for her to get down, which she stares at and reluctantly hops down. “I’ll make sure to kick Sam’s ass for you tomorrow in place of you. You know it’d be more than an honor for me.” 

“I fear he may kill him,” Wanda adds, walking to the other side of Y/N. 

“Compared to what I was planning, it would be a mercy.” 

____________

Y/N’s POV

To say I was pissed about the current circumstances would be putting it lightly. I hate being benched, and like anyone, I hate being injured. 

Call it past trauma I may never fully grow out of, but being the weak link made me anxious and antsy. It was like being the runt in a litter of pigs. It can’t fend for itself and tends to meet the slaughterhouse sooner than its friends. 

All that to say, I didn’t take help well while in this state either. But for some odd reason, Bucky’s aid wasn’t unwelcomed. 

Did I give him a hard time? Hard not to. Did he laugh it off and match my energy? 1000%, and I couldn’t be more thankful. It’s made this a touch more bearable, knowing he doesn’t pity me or see me as a weakling but just wants to help get me back to my best. 

And 3-5 days is doable, considering the alternative was over a month…

“Did you take your meds?” Bucky asked, letting himself into my room after a long day. Thankfully, we had another day of resting and for me, it looked like a week of resting. 

“Taken and pumping through my veins,” I give him a thumbs up as I lazily scroll through the streaming services as we set up for a lowkey movie night. “Are these the loopy kinds?” 

“Most opiates are, unfortunately,” he chuckles, placing the take-out bags he had grabbed downstairs on the coffee table. “What time did you take them?

He pulls out his phone and goes to the notes app. I know he has been making detailed notes on my meds, pain levels, doctor’s visits, and any other ailments I complain about. It’s really sweet, and surprisingly, I don’t find it overbearing like I thought I would. It’s nice having someone look out for you in a genuine way. 

“About ten minutes ago, so 6:30,” I pat the seat beside me. “Come on. I need your decisiveness on what movie we should watch tonight.”

He laughed while typing the details into his phone before putting it on the table, sitting next to me, opening the bags, and creating a nice little family buffet of Thai food in front of us. 

I watched him as I had become fond of these last months. When I see him do the things he does for others and me, I internally punch myself for letting hatred keep me from such a man this long. 

“Question,” I asked, and he hummed, handing me a carton of low mein and grilled chicken. He stabbed two chopsticks into the food, and turned back for his own before leaning back and relaxing finally. “If things were different. If you never had to enlist for the war… What would have done for yourself?” 

“You mean like…”

“What job field would you have gone into?”

He nods his head as he considers the question and takes a large bite of pad thai. 

“I’m not sure… I don’t think I’ve ever really considered it. Especially since war has always been a thing, and given the era I was born into, I had just accepted I was going to be thrown into the military at some point.” 

“Well, that’s sad,” I crinkled my nose and the ache from my black eye had dulled thanks to my faster healing. “You didn’t consider any other paths?” 

“I mean, not realistic ones. I probably would have gone into business of some kind. Sales, maybe?” he said more as a question and poked around at his food. “I doubt anything that would have brought me true joy.” 

“Ok, then. What about now? If things were different, and you had complete freedom to live a normal life, like Beau Hunt,” I nudged him, and he laughed, leaning closer to me on the couch. “What career would you choose?” 

He thought about it, looking down at his food and then at the wall ahead of him. 

“If you’re asking me about today? As in this very moment?” 

“I am.”

“I’d say a chef.” 

I paused, not 100% prepared for that answer, but also not shocked by it. I didn’t reply instantly and felt him turn his gaze to me. 

“Didn’t expect that?” he asks. 

“Just imagining it,” I grinned, digging back into my cardboard carton as I pictured the dreamboat of a man next to me in an episode of The Bear. “I like it.” 

“Think I can get a Michelin-star type of restaurant going?” he hummed, a grin evident in his voice. 

“I don’t think that would be your scene. I could see you in a cool, locally owned, and homey restaurant. A staple piece in Brooklyn where everyone would come from all over to have the best comfort food the city would offer,” I smile at him, scooting down in my seat so I can rest my head on his shoulder.  

His head rested on top of mine after a quick kiss to the top of it. I treasured learning he actually loved showing affection in public, especially in the sweet and wholesome ways he went about it. 

“I can see that much more than what I said,” he laughed, and his body vibrated with the sound. “What about you? Different career choice, what would you choose?” 

“Hmm,” I snuggled more into him as I ate, and the screen on my TV went to screensaver mode. “I think something in social work. Given the things I’ve seen in the world, I’d be able to help kids in dangerous situations and homes get out of it.” He hums and chuckles some, making me look up at him. “What’s so funny about that?” 

“Not funny, just,” he chuckles again and looks at me from the side. “Of course, you’d want to go into the world and make a difference in it while I hole myself up in one spot and do background work for a living. In other words, the less I have to deal with people up front, the better, and the more people you can confront, the better.” 

“You’re a social person,” I laughed, sticking my chopsticks into his container for a taste. “I mean, you’re a better people person than you think.” 

“I have to build that relationship with people before I can become a ‘people person’. On the other hand, you can walk up to a stranger on the street and insert yourself into their life without hesitation.” 

“Maybe. But I also understand not wanting to do those things just cause it’s not your scene. I think our fake imaginary jobs are perfect for us.” 

“I was always envious that I wasn’t one of those people you approached and welcomed in,” he says, but not with annoyance and hurt, just stating a fact. 

“I was an asshole who allowed her backstory to control the present life she had made for herself. I wasn't too proud of that version of myself.”

Bucky turned his body to me, and I sat up. 

“As upset as I was about not getting the friendly treatment you gave to others, I’m happy to say I get to experience it now compared to never at all.” 

I stared into the blue eyes I knew would be my downfall as soon as I saw him for the first time. 

“Who knew force proximity would have this outcome?” 

“Not Nat or Tony. Oh, by the way, did I tell you Tony was in on the deal, too? Gave it three days and lost all his money before he even had a chance.” 

“Serves him right, betting on people’s downfall,” I nuzzled back into the couch as Bucky got comfortable again. “Speaking of… Wanna make a bet on how many games I can make Sam lose without even participating in the games?” 

“I will never not bet to see Sam lose. But I think I can beat you out on that deal, considering I will be in the games.”

“You’d like to think, wouldn’t you?” 

“Is that a challenge?” 

“A challenge would mean I have to have competition. That won’t be the case tomorrow,” I leaned forward, grabbing the remote from him and placing a soft kiss on his lips. 

“You’re much appreciated PDA isn’t going to make me take it any easier on you.” 

“No, no, no. We wouldn’t want that.”  

He laughed and leaned in for another kiss. The TV in front of us forgotten.

Marvel Tags:

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My Lovelies Forever:

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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series: (TAGS CLOSED)

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki  @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim @lovelybaka @julvrs @mostlymarvelgirl @heletsmelovehim @learisa @bubblegumbeautyqueen @that-d-bitch @rabbitrabbit12321

[tracybirds]

ack, I was determined to get this finished up tonight before sleeping even though I already missed the genderqueer and genderfluid day for @thunder-pride but no matter! I'm not doing a readthrough bc oof i need to be asleep so any typos I missed I will fix up tomorrow morning <;33

Brains is making some upgrades to the iR suits, both for trans Gordon but also a little bit for himself....I hope you enjoy <333

---

“Hey, Brains?”

“Y-yes, Gordon?”

The reply was automatic, Brains only half listening as he frowned and bent down over his workbench. Pieces of fabric and electronic parts were scattered in all directions, but his careful hands never hesitated as he worked on the newest upgrades to their suits.

“Do you think you could upgrade the hydrophonics system on Four?”

Brains looked up and blinked. If there was one constant across his career as an engineer, it was that interruptions always came at the moments that required the most delicacy.

They never seemed to occur during the more tedious moments of maintenance, or when he was merely adding final details that added nothing to the function. Always, always it was in a moment of inspiration, of innovation, of climatic concentration.

And if there was one constant across his time with the Tracy family, it was that the unexpected requests almost always were worth listening to.

He carefully lay the soldering iron aside and switched off the power.

“Why? Is it for someone’s research project, because I’ve told you before I’m not comfortable releasing data that could make the true scope of Thunderbird Four public.”

“No, no not that,” said Gordon, but his expression grew sheepish within seconds. “Okay, so maybe I haven’t thought about it fully yet, I just had the idea and I dunno, there’s just something inside me saying we’re gonna need it soon.”

Brains sighed. “Your squid sense?”

“Squid sense,” confirmed Gordon, hoisting himself up onto the bench in the little kitchenette opposite Brains. “Sound travels in water and greater sensitivity to the hydrophones, along with improved analysis systems, could help us pinpoint compromised structures much faster.”

“We’d need to develop a wider network to ensure we could triangulate the position,” murmured Brains, pulling up a holoscreen and beginning to type furiously. “Higher sensitivity means nothing if we can’t pinpoint the origin of anything we hear and the satellite array can’t penetrate deep enough. John, can you send me data for the current GDF ocean monitoring stations?”

“On it,” said John’s voice immediately. The family were well used to Brains’ sudden leaps in intuition and habit of requesting seemingly unrelated information without any preamble. “How high in classification do you need?”

“High enough to cover the oceans with a max radius around each station of 3000km.” Gordon’s face fell and Brains shook his head in response. “I’m not risking higher, International Rescue is already on shaky territory. Janus isn’t the only GDF operative who wants control over us and we mustn’t give them a reason to seize control.”

“You sound like Scott,” said Gordon, still pouting.

Brains hid a smile, torn between embarrassment and satisfaction.

“Done,” interrupted John, saving Brains from having to reply. “Anything else?”

“No, thank you John,” said Brains, nodding at him and running through the list. “Future project, I’ll let you know when it develops further. I suspect we’ll need a program.”

“Well, you have my number,” said John with a faint smile. “Gordon, you should rest while you can; there’s a storm system starting to intensify in the Northwest Pacific and we’ll need to be standing by if it makes landfall.”

“Sure thing, John,” said Gordon. “I’ve been practicing sleeping with my eyes open, getting real good at it now.”

Brains filed the proposal away, linking the compiled data and saving it into the folder containing all the suggested improvements that had been mentioned over the years. The folder for Thunderbird Four was at least twelve times bigger than the others, containing everything from more manoeuvrable propellers – “Brains, I’m sick of three-point-turning my way out of tight spots” – to the more impractical vacuum floor – “like the opposite of an air hockey table, it’ll be fantastic for cleaning up!” – and lots more besides. Gordon never seemed to mind that the vast majority of his ideas never came to fruition.

“What’re you working on now?” asked Gordon, peering down at the gear. “Increased frost tolerance? Electric self defence? Automatic Hood Destructor-nator?”

“Nothing so violent, I can assure you,” said Brains. “Sit down and do your ‘eyes open’ sleep while I finish this, then I’ll show you.”

“Right-o,” said Gordon with a smart salute and ridiculous grin. “Wake me up when you’re ready.”

Gordon didn’t sleep, but he didn’t talk either and left Brains to his work, fiddling with his holo-device and playing some sort of farming simulator. The hours ticked by and the circuitry inched closer to completion was every passing minute.

Finally, Brains lifted the suit, passing his hand carefully over the new display he’d added to the right breast.

Gordon seemed to know instinctively that he was done, or he’d been paying more attention than Brains had realised, because he jumped up at once.

“Oh cool!” he enthused, clapping Brains on the back. “What’s it for? You gave John lasers, do we all get that upgrade now?”

“No, this is something quite different,” said Brains quietly.

Gordon sobered immediately, taking in Brains’ serious look.

“Tell me more,” he said in the same gentle tone he used with the children he rescued.

Brains reached down to the wrist controls, and swiped to the new display containing personal information.

“I thought you might like to be able to make your pronouns more accessible. They’ll auto-translate according to region and languages heard by the radio receiver.”

He looked up, to see Gordon’s mouth moving without speaking, and flushed. “I’m sorry Gordon, I realise I may have overstepped. I’m sure you have more important things to worry about in the field, I just��� know…”

Here Brains trailed off, his words somehow stuck in his throat.

“You just know what?” asked Gordon, his voice huskier than normal and to Brains’ horror he found his friend was fighting back tears.

“Oh my, I didn’t mean… that is I just thought that…” Flustered, Brains froze, halfway between stammering an apology and wishing very hard that the floor would open up and allow the earth to swallow him. He’d never wanted to put Gordon in such a position, and still he seemed lost for words.

Before he could make his excuses however, Gordon wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in tight for a hug. Brains squeaked, trying to escape and collect himself, but he soon realised that Gordon needed the contact and that the strange hiccupping noises were actually sobs.

“I’m sorry,” he said regretfully, wishing he’d never decided to make the addition a surprise, wishing he’d conducted his usual thorough process of consultation.

“Gordon laughed – a wet, warm chuckle against Brains’ neck – and pulled away. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” he said. “Happy tears, I promise. You’re right, getting misgendered mid mission’s not exactly forefront of my worries, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I hadn’t realised how much until you gave me a way to communicate it, that’s all.”

Brains smiled, still feeling awkward. He’d gotten used to Gordon’s wildly swinging emotions over the years, but he still found their intensity unsettling and he breathed deep and slow as he straightened his shirt.

“Yes, well, I’m glad to do it.”

“Really, Brains,” said Gordon earnestly. “Thank you. You always seem to know which problems need solving before we even realise there’s an issue. This means a lot.”

Now was his moment, Brains knew. He had a perfect opening, with the one person who would understand better than anyone, so why was his knees knocking together in sudden fear?

“I-I…” he began, then swallowed past the sudden ache in his throat. “I s-suppose, that is…”

Gordon grabbed his elbow and steered him towards the sofa.

“No rush,” he said. “But sit down, you look like you might throw up.”

Brains breathed in deep, running through steady counts again as he inhaled and exhaled.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about pronouns,” he finally said, his voice more a squeak than the steady calm he’d practiced in the mirror. “And how maybe… I mean…”

He wanted to say it so badly but the words wouldn’t form.

“Did you want us to use different pronouns for you?” asked Gordon, eyes wide. “We can do that, I mean no sweat, everyone did for me and I must have changed them a thousand times before I felt I knew myself well enough and even then sometimes ‘he’ doesn’t fit right, and you’ve all been really good about it, so I get it and you don’t have to worry and–”

“Gordon,” interrupted Brains. “P-please, let me speak.”

Gordon feel silent at once, his ears flushing red with embarrassment.

“I don’t know how to describe how I feel right now,” said Brains, looking at his hands. “Gender feels so far away here. Every day that passes, I feel more and more like myself and less and less like the son my family expected.”

“You don’t have to know,” said Gordon. “You can take your time, try things out. Maybe you’ll find you like being a guy best and that’ll be okay too. Nothing wrong with exploring a little.”

Brains nodded quickly.

“Yes, exactly,” he said. “I want to find out for myself, that’s what I mean.”

“Cool,” said Gordon with a lopsided grin. “I mean that’s so cool, Brains. Anything spring to mind?”

Here, he hesitated again, thinking carefully. He’d never been one to leap forward blindfolded, had always taken the path most carefully considered, but here all roads seemed to diverge into equal uncertainty.

He had Gordon though, who’d walked this road before, Gordon and the rest of his family, all cheering for Brains as he took the first step and the next and the next.

“I think I want to try agender,” he said. “Not worry about it, go with the flow. Try using they/them perhaps?”

“Go with the flow,” repeated Gordon , drawing out the vowel as he danced in his seat. “I like it.”

“Yeah,” said Brains, trying on their new perspective for the first time. “It is very new for me, isn’t it?”

Their facial expression changed at once.

“Oh help, I’m not a go with the flow person, what am I doing?”

“Relax,” said Gordon, cuffing their shoulder. “You don’t have to change yourself to use new pronouns. Nothing wrong with reflecting or being steady. It’s about finding who you are in the midst of the eddies, right?”

Brains exhaled and nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ve got this.”

[odysseyeight]

Order

You wake up and find that you are not in your bed, where you remember falling asleep. You are now in the middle of a town. It is still night time, the streetlights glow orange above You. You have no idea what time it actually is, or where exactly you are. You begin to wander down the sidewalk, gazing at houses and gas stations and businesses as you walk, trying to find anything that will tell you where you are.

As you pass by the buildings and under the rings of inexplicably familiar streetlights, you try to find a reason for why you find yourself in this situation. You can't remember having woken up any time between falling asleep and now, you are certain you went to sleep in your bed, in your apartment. Your own room. You know you don't sleepwalking.

As you continue to walk, you try to refocus on your surroundings. A gas station catches your eye. It is generic beyond generic. Blue and white simplistic colors line the shelter hood above the pumps and the tiny service building. From where you are you can see the rows of chips and drinks inside. The station is well lit, although the lot is deserted. You decide to cross and see if the attendant can give you and idea of where you are. You approach the door, your hand grasping the cold metal handle. It's shiny and flawless, as is everything else about the outer shell of the station. In passing, you figure it must be new. You find it odd that theres no recognizable name, on one banner theres something that vaguely resembles words but it feels so unimportant to you, for whatever reason, that its registering as a blurry image. As you enter the station, you are immediately met by the perfectly stocked and ordered shelves and coolers you expect to see in a gas station. Not a single item out of stock or place, everything is ordered as neatly and perfectly as if there's never been a customer. You look over towards the register, and find the counter empty. You walk over, assuming the attendant may just be in the bathroom or in a back room elsewhere. From the front of the counter, you can see a gray door marked "employees only" a few feet behind the counter. Everything is neat and orderly, spotless even. You decide to call out to whoever should be there.

"Hello? Can someone help me?" You call, your voice echoing ever so slightly off the perfectly painted walls. The silence that follows feels like it carries on forever. Minutes pass. You feel a knot beginning to tighten in your stomach. You make your way behind the counter, and approach the employee room. You find the door unlocked, and enter to find another spotless and perfectly ordered room. Magazines stacked evenly on the table, a fully stocked and functional snack/drink machine. A small kitchenette area, with a sink, fridge and microwave. There is a single bathroom, the door is propped open and the light inside is turned off. There's nobody here.

You try not to let the ever-growing anxiety get to you. You decide that someone just forgot to lock up at closing, surely. You make your way out of the station, and back towards the sidewalk. Across the street you see houses.

Each one has a perfectly painted white picket fence, almost as if each one was installed just the day before. The yards are all perfectly cut from what you can see under the glow of the streetlights. Each house looks almost identical, sans a very small range of different pale paint colors. The door plates should have numbers, but once again they're all blurry. Each driveway looks new as well. All the windows are dark. You decide not to attempt to bother anyone asleep in their home, but the perfection of every single house is not lost on you. It makes them all seem staged, fake somehow. Almost like a movie set.

You try to shake this idea. You keep walking. You can see more lights up ahead, and try to quicken your pace to see if there's anyone or anything that can help you there. As you approach the lights, on one side of the street you see a grocery store, and on the other what seems to be an electronics store. You once again can't make out names or words or even letters on the signs for either, but both are lit and appear open. And just like the houses, and the gas station, they look brand new. Perfectly paved parking lots, brand new paint and lights and signs, and through the windows you can see brand new items and products. You decide to try the grocery store first.

As you approach the glass door, you once again find yourself grabbing a seemingly brand new metal handle. You walk in, stepping onto perfectly polished tile floor, and see the fully stocked shelves. You begin to wander through, attempting to find a worker or customer or anything that can help you. You gaze at the products as you go, all lining the shelves with unceasing order and perfection. As you wander, you realize you can't make out the names of the products. It's all blurry, and none of it looks like it would be English if it weren't. You feel the panic rising in your throat now. Something is wrong.

Where are all the people? Surely this store isn't also a closed business that someone forgot to lock at closing time. You quicken your pace. The blurry labels melt together as you rush around the large and seemingly endless building. The blood is rushing in your ears. You reach the registers. All are unattended. You're unable to stifle the sinking feeling in your chest now. You move even faster back towards the exit.

You decide not to bother with any more stores. You keep walking down the street, past brand new looking houses with dark windows and unreadable door plates. You move faster. You pass a park. The fence is shiny, new just like everything else. The pavement and paint lining the basketball court looks new too. So do the nets. And the swings, and the picnic tables. You move faster. You pass more identical houses, the same building over and over.

You can't take the panic anymore. You push through one of the perfectly painted fence gates and skip a porch step, and begin knocking on the perfect oak door. You can't read the door plate, it's blurry and it doesn't look like anything to you. You knock again. And again, and again, your knocking becomes frantic.

"Will someone please just fucking answer!? I need fucking help!!" You yell, the panic and frustration getting the better of you. You know something is deeply wrong right now. You try the doorknob in an attempt to cease the deafening silence.

No crickets or bugs or birds or cars or people have filled the background this whole time, you realize. The sinking feeling grows worse. Only the hum of orange streetlights, and yourself.

The door is unlocked, just like everything else around here. You enter. It's an empty house. Perfectly polished wood floors, you can see from the faint orange light entering the room from the doorway you stand in. No furniture, no people, nothing. It's empty rooms. But there's a car in the driveway, there's a car in EVERY driveway. Where is everyone? The panic is unbearable, it's almost painful by now.

You stumble out of the empty house, the blood rushing in your ears is deafening now, your whole body feels detached and unreal. You stumble back towards the sidewalk, and look to your right. Far down the sidewalk, under the glow of another identical orange streetlight, you see the shadow of a person. Too far away to make out features, but you know that's a person.

You call out, trying to get their attention. The figure is motionless. You wave and shout, you start quickly towards the figure. They do not move. You cannot make out any features. You move faster. They do not move. You cannot make out any features. You get closer, moving faster. They do not move. You cannot make out any features. You get closer. They are still a dark, unmoving shadow. You cannot make out any features. You slow down and approach with caution.

You walk into the circle of orange light, now face to face with the featureless shadow. You can't summon your voice. But now, face to face with the figure, you realize they are a flat surface. You walk up, reaching out with a shaking hand, and touch the figure. It falls over onto the sidewalk. A cardboard cut out. You feel the blood draining from your face. You look up, staring down the sidewalk again. You see another featureless dark figure at the next light. You walk slowly, unable to speak or think, and approach. You touch the figure. It falls over. Cardboard. You see one at the next light. You continue to approach a perfect replica of the first cutout under each light, over and over until you reach a light without one. And you realize to your left there is white light pouring from a parking lot again.

A hospital. The name is blurry. You approach the brand new flawless door, grabbing the brand new handle and enter. You see a flawless and orderly lobby and reception center, all empty. You wander to an elevator. The numbers inside are blurry. You press one at random. It takes you to a floor full of perfectly neat and tidy rooms with hospital beds, all empty. All of the reception counters are empty too. You wander aimlessly for a while, no longer expecting to find anyone. You repeat this process for a few more floors, before pressing what to believe will take you back to the lobby. There is no point in staying. You exit the elevator and head slowly back towards the doors.

As you come within a few feet, you hear the first noise you did not create all night: a clunky click. You freeze. You have the first sinking feeling in what feels like a lifetime since you first pushed over the original cardboard figure. You quickly close the gap between yourself and the doors. Grabbing the handle, you pull. But it doesn't move. You pull harder, but it won't give. The panic all rushes back to you again. You turn around and rush towards the stairs next to the elevator to attempt to find another way out. There's a fire exit, but that's locked too. You skip more steps running up floor after floor, trying exit after exit. You scream aimlessly now and then between failed exit attempts.

The man monitoring a wall of cameras watches you scream and rush from door to door in a bright white lab. He scribbles notes on a clipboard. The screens around him show the gas station, the grocery store, rows of houses, sidewalks with fallen cardboard cutouts on them. He furrows his brow as your screams continue to pierce through the monitor. Before him is a board of lights and buttons, knobs, letters and sliders. He quickly scribbles something new, before pushing a slider down, lowering the lights in the hallway you are in to a dim, flickering intensity. He presses a few buttons, and through the monitor he hears what becomes of you. He writes one final note. It is done.

[strangunddurm]

The Cabin

Masterlist

Pairing: Clyde Logan x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, self pleasure, fingering, masturbation, alcohol consumption.

Please accept my offering of my vision of mountain man Clyde.

A hike in the woods was meant to calm your mind and let you focus on yourself for a while; a sort of cheap alternative to going to a spa. However, you were anything but relaxed, and focused on everything except just yourself.

You were lost. Despite spending hours on YouTube trying to learn how to navigate, you had still taken the wrong turn and didn’t notice until it was too late. Thankfully it was the beginning of autumn, so it was still warm outside, and you didn’t need to start worrying about getting cold just yet, despite the sun slowly descending across the horizon.

The crappy phone which you had insisted didn’t need replacing had died long before you realized just how lost you were. You had a particularly bad habit of never charging your phone and it was coming back to bite you in the ass.

You had taken a, supposedly, easy trail. ‘Beginner friendly’ was the description your friend had given you when you asked for tips. You were cursing them mentally in your mind now, their definition of ‘beginner friendly’ was obviously vastly different from yours.

It had been hours, or at least it felt like it. You were steadily making your way through the granola bars you had packed. Your version of survivor mode consisted of trying to eat everything you could see due to anxiety, instead of saving it in case you’d be out here for hours.

It was the same rock you had passed a while back, you were sure of it, convinced that you were officially just walking in one big circle.

You hadn’t seen anyone else out on the trails which were surprising.; you figured trails were usually always packed with curious adventurers.

The snap of a branch pulled you out of your inner monologue, causing you to freeze and your heart to painfully contract in fear. You were sure that this was the moment you would die; a rabid coyote was surely bound to attack you at any moment. Were there even coyotes in West Virginia? You didn’t want to find out.

Turning around to see what it was that had made the sound wasn’t an option in your mind, it really wasn’t. Turning around would, in your mind, mean that you were accepting being mauled to death and despite your sometimes negative output you wanted to live for a while longer.

“Please, please, please don’t be a coyote… pleas-“ You let out a loud scream as a hand grabbed onto your shoulder, instinctively jabbing your elbow back to connect with the somewhat soft stomach of someone who was very much not a wild and crazed animal.

Whoever was behind you let out a low ‘ouff’ sound from your attack but did not seem overly affected otherwise.

“Sorry!” It was a man’s voice, judging from the deep tone of it. You whirled around whilst simultaneously attempting to take a step backwards, resulting in you falling to the ground ungracefully. There was definitely no chance you could run away from him now if he turned out to be less than friendly.

“Who are you?” You shuffled back against the ground, trying to put some distance between the two of you in naïve hope. The stranger, noticing your distress, put his hands out in front of him whilst taking a few steps back, increasing the distance between the two of you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare ye.” You surveyed him sceptically as he apologized. He looked like he was a nice person, but that only went so far, anyone had the ability to look nice. He blended into your surroundings, lacking the bright colours you were wearing; it was obvious that he did not share in your desire to want to be seen. He also looked like he was much more used to the woods than you were (not that it was hard).

“Are ye okay?” His question made you realize that you hadn’t replied, and you were still lying there like a seal on the ground. You stumbled up onto your feet with a huff, grabbing a stick that was laying by your hand just as you thrust yourself up.

It was a small stick, definitely incapable of causing serious bodily harm but you hoped that if you were desperate enough, it could poke out an eye. Or at least scratch it.

You held it out in front of you, wielding it like a sword. It was hard not to miss the smile that flew across the stranger’s face. You were most likely a funny sight, a flustered and oblivious city girl waving a twig. But you felt like King Arthur waving Excalibur and that was all that mattered. One lonely girl pumped full of adrenaline could do a lot of damage with a twig and a mean right hook.

“What do you want?” You spat. A tiny voice inside of you told you that you were being ridiculous. Here he was, a nice man probably just concerned over seeing you wander through the woods, obviously lost, so close to nightfall. But the devil on your other shoulder told you to trust no man, to kick him where the sun doesn’t shine and take off like a bat out of hell.

“I just wanted to see if ye were okay; it gets cold out here at night.” He still had his hands up like he was getting arrested. You considered his words carefully. You weren’t okay, you hadn’t planned on staying out until nightfall. All you were going to do was hike to the top of the mountain and go back down, but apparently, you were too incompetent to even perform that simple task.

“I called out a couple of times, but ye didn’t seem to hear me.”

“Oh,” You dropped the twig at the revelation. It explained a lot; you were after all notorious for getting lost in your thoughts and turning deaf.

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly as you lowered the stick to your side but still grasped it tightly (just in case). You sent him a small apologetic smile even though you didn’t owe him one.

“So, do ye need help?”

“Hmm…” Did you need help? You glanced around you, surveying your surroundings again. It was a lot closer to dark than you were comfortable with. The granola bars were all gone, you didn’t have anything warmer on than the fleece jacket you had dug out from the back of your closet. You had no way of contacting anyone and you were not competent enough to build anything close to a working shelter for the night.

You eyed him again as you thought over your answer. He seemed nice enough, he reminded you slightly of a big, burly bear. He was a behemoth of a man, standing tall and wide with dark hair and eyes, but there was some kindness there that made you feel as if you could trust him.

The thing that eventually won you over was his hand, it was obviously a prosthetic now that you were focusing on him. You hoped that a prosthetic hand meant that it was much less likely that he could grab a firm hold on you.

-

Clyde Logan wasn’t a very talkative man. If you were to google ‘mountain man’ he would pop up as one of the image results. The modern version of course, accompanied by the usual camo gear. You had always had a weakness for the lumberjack flannels and the thick moustache that tickled his lips had you wondering what it would look like drenched in your juices.

But it would be stupid attempting to seduce the grumpy man that had saved you from certain death, right?

He knew so much about the woods and the dangers that were surrounding you, making you realize just how stupid you were to be out there alone. But of course, he didn’t offer you all of this information on his own. No, you had to practically force the words out of his mouth, but thankfully you were the Master of Babble, and he was eventually forced to answer if he ever wanted you to shut up.

You were making your way to his cabin that was apparently just over a mile away. Clyde was leading the way with you practically walking on his heels trying to keep up with his long strides and sneaking looks over your shoulder in paranoia to see if anyone was following the two of you.

Clyde had said that it was too late to return to your car seeing how late it was. Apparently, you had walked in the completely wrong direction from the start and were now a couple of miles away from civilization. He had graciously offered you a sleeping spot in his cabin over the night with a promise to help you back first thing in the morning.

It was picturesque, Clyde’s cabin. Nothing less than what you expected of the man, and surprisingly a lot cleaner than what you had assumed from stereotyping.

“This is so cute!” You admired, sending a small smile up to Clyde with a tilt of your head. He almost looked embarrassed over your praise, only responding with a small huff as he took his shoes off and walking toward the kitchen area.

It was a studio type of situation. Everything was in one room: the small kitchenette, tv-area, and makeshift bedroom. Clyde had flipped a switch which turned on a light that illuminated the entire cabin in a soft glow.

“There’s a bathroom over there.” Clyde gestured to a door on the left, and you couldn’t help peaking in. You hadn’t expected a fully functional bathroom at all, seeing how you were in the middle of nowhere but here it was. And you were so grateful. Going potty in the woods was not on your bucket list.

“Are ye hungry? It’s nothin’ much but I have some sandwiches that we can eat.” Clyde ran his fingers through his hair as he asked the question nervously when you came over after your brief tour of the cabin.

“A sandwich would be great, thank you!” You took it gratefully from his hand as he offered it to you before plopping down on the couch.

You were a lot hungrier than you had though. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you unwrapped the sandwich and taking a bite.

“Have you had this for long?” You said after you had finished chewing your first bite, gesturing with your hand wildly to the cabin.

“Couple of years.” Clyde didn’t look at you as he responded, focused intently on his own sandwich.

He left it at that, not elaborating any further and you didn’t want to cross the obvious boundary he had drawn, so you stayed quiet.

You were never good with silence and awkward situations. When others were perfectly comfortable with silence you just had to talk. Googled had diagnosed it as a symptom of anxiety but you had never actually built enough courage up to actually have a evaluation.

“Do you like to read?” You had taken notice of the overflowing bookcase he had. It was hard not to, it was perhaps the biggest piece of furniture he had, spanning the length of an entire wall.

“Mhmm” Honestly, the hums he would do to answer your questions made you soaked.

“What’s your favourite?” He looked as if he was considering your question, leaning back into his seat and looking up at the ceiling for a moment.

“It would have to be In Search for Lost Time by Marcel Proust.”

“I love that book.”

“Is that so?” You nodded your head with wide eyes, happy to have found a subject to talk about. You loved books, yes, but to be honest you had never read that book. But you were hoping you could wing it enough so that Clyde wouldn’t notice.

“What’s your favourite part?” Okay, so maybe you hadn’t thought it through. You couldn’t hide the small wince you did at his question.

It would’ve been better to have said nothing at all, you just really wanted Clyde to like you. You didn’t know why; it wasn’t like you were ever going to see him again. It was just that there was something about him that made you want to kneel and say, ‘please daddy’ and you didn’t know how to get there with someone so reluctant to talk.

“Ye tryin’ to impress me?” He must be a mind reader.

“Oh, no I just-“ You trailed off, unsure over what to say that would not make you seem as desperate.

He stood up, watching you as he made his way around the room, but he wasn’t moving toward you; instead, he disappeared through the front door without a word.

You deflated like a balloon as the door shut behind him, sinking into the cushions and cursing yourself. Why were you so desperate to impress people? The answer was simple because you were you and you had an irrational need for people having to like you.

-

Clyde wasn’t gone for long. He had simply gone out to fill up on the firewood for the fireplace that you had neglected to notice before.

“It’s supposed to get below 30 here tonight.” Was it rude to say that you were impressed with how easily he did things despite only having one hand? It wasn’t that you expected him to not be able to function at all, it’s just that you were barely functioning yourself with two hands.

It had already started getting just a tiny bit colder, enough for you to have curled your legs onto the couch, leaning on the armrest with a blanket thrown over you. The cold was a fiend that you would never get along with.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are ye sorry for?” He looked truly bewildered over your words, stopping what he was doing and looking up at you from his crouched position.

“I shouldn’t have lied.”

“’S okay.” He continued with starting a fire. “We’ve all told a white lie.”

“That’s true, but I’m usually better at playing it off.” You joked and he shared a chuckle with you.

It was cozy once Clyde got the fire started. He turned off the lamp in the ceiling, muttering something about preserving a battery, opting to turn on another by the bed and then settled back down. He was sitting next to you this time, not across from you in the chair as previously. You could practically feel the heat radiating from his skin, he was so close. The couch was small, only a two-seater, but you suppose that he didn’t need much more seeing how he was only one person.

Clyde crowded your personal space. It felt like he was everywhere around you, suffocating you (but in the best way). He slung his arm over the back of the couch, just barely grazing your back. You were surprised with how forward he was being but decided not to question it too much, figuring he might take it wrong and shy away.

“Yer not from ‘round here are ye?”

“Is it so obvious?” Of course, it was obvious. You told him where you lived and there seemed to be a small glint of recognition in his eyes.

“Ye should get a guide next time, one of the rangers will take ye for free.” It was surprising how caring he seemed to be.

“One of the rangers?” You didn’t want a ranger to show you around the next time.

“Mhmm”

“Can’t you take me?” You diverted your eyes from his face as you asked the question, feigning being shy. You let them trace down his sculptured-by-God body, double-checking for a ring on one of his fingers. There was none, or well you assumed that it wasn't a wedding ring. It didn't look like one, it had more of a class ring vibe to it.

Clyde didn’t respond immediately. He was studying you, analyzing every crevice of your face it seemed like.

It was impossible not to get lost in his eyes. You tried really hard not to at first but gave up way too quickly. You wondered if he knew just how attractive he was. He had to have several ladies running after him, desperate for a getaway in his cabin in the woods.

“Do ye want me to?” He finally asked. It was obvious that he had tensed up at your question. His back was rigid, he was sitting as straight as you had ever seen a person sit.

“Maybe…” You were subconsciously leaning closer toward him, inhaling as much of his sent as you could discreetly. It was very vampire-like of you.

He smelled just as you thought he would. Like pine trees. There was just the smallest undertone of sweat and it drove you wild. It wasn’t usually your scent of choice for obvious reasons but on Clyde… On Clyde it was as if he had been doused in some kind of pheromones that made you completely drenched and mad with want.

You thankfully stopped yourself before you could release the moan that was bubbling in your throat. Who in their right mind moaned to a stranger that they hadn’t even touched over the way they smelled? (Only counting people that weren’t high or drunk, of course).

It was a battle getting you to lean away from Clyde again, but the rational part of your brain thankfully won. You had to dig your nails into your thighs, trying to pinch yourself through the fabric of your pants to bring you back to reality and gain some self-control.

“I’ll take you.” He promised with a nod, looking as serious as always. You wondered if he always wore that expression with everyone. You hadn’t been able to coax a lot of smiles out of him, despite categorizing yourself as a fairly hilarious person and having cracked some jokes on the walk to the cabin.

You sent him a small smile in response, feeling relieved not to have been rejected. That would’ve been embarrassing.

He surveyed you for a while more before finally asking if you wanted a drink.

-

The makeshift bar cabinet that he had was surprisingly well-stocked. Too well-stocked for him to be a raging alcoholic. You questioned him curiously about it. Finding out that he was a bartender was a welcomed surprise. You challenged him to make a drink you had never heard of, and he was quick to deliver.

It was delicious, making it easy to pay him compliments over his talent.

“I own a bar, ‘s called Duck Tape.” It was clear that he was proud over his business, with the way his chest seemed to almost swell with his words.

You told him about your own job, not exactly sharing the same enthusiasm seeing how your job was one of the main reasons for why you needed a stress-relieving hike in the first place.

You’d always been a lightweight. It was no secret; you had an uncanny ability to be able to get hammered on one glass of alcohol. Google told you that it could have something to do with your liver, but you did not want to go to the hospital to find out.

You neglected to think about this small fact when you asked Clyde to make you a drink and you were now suffering the consequences. You were drunk, or at least somewhere over the border of tipsy.

Clyde seemed to have relaxed from the alcohol as well. He was much freer in letting a laugh leave his body which had caused you to jump at first in surprise at the boisterous sound.

He had shuffled closer to you, or was it you that had shuffled closer to him? It had happened without either of the two of you noticing but you didn’t try to move away once you did.

You didn’t speak about anything of significance, not really. It was all nonsense, but you never wanted it to stop. Eventually, you mutually decided that sleep was a necessity if you were going to have the energy to get back to your car in the morning.

“Ye can take the bed if ye want.” Clyde motioned over the back of the couch toward the bed in the corner of the room. You glanced over at it, gnawing at your lip as you considered his proposal. Would it be inappropriate to say that you wanted him to share the bed with you?

The bed was too small for it to be shared in any way that wasn’t intimate which was exactly what you wanted.

You assumed that Clyde was as interested in you as you were of him. His hand was dangerously close to your knee as it sat on the seat of the sofa; if he moved his finger less than an inch it would graze your skin.

“Where would you sleep?” You feigned innocent.

“I’ll take the couch.” He knew what you were doing; you could see it in his eyes. They had grown even darker than before and were hooded as they watched you. It was easy to get lost in them, they were the most expressive eyes you had ever seen.

Both of you knew that neither of you would sleep on the couch that night.

There was a flurry of hands and all of a sudden you were in his lap, grinding down, lips connected to one another.

Clyde was a great kisser. Scratch that. He was amazing. He knew exactly how to make you completely drenched from just a few nibbles and strokes of his tongue against your own. He was a natural (Or a player, but you somehow got the impression that he didn’t lure innocent people to his cabin on the regular for a quick lay).

You could feel how hard he was despite the layers separating his bulge from your core. Hard and large and it made you dizzy to think about.

Clyde was taking his time running his hands up and down your waist, his right hand grabbing here and there, never moving under your shirt despite your obvious eagerness. A roll of his hips elicited a moan from you.

Your own hands weren’t shy in their movements; they were grasping onto his broad shoulders, holding on to the fabric as you tried to pull him closer to you.

He separated his lips from yours with a chuckle.

“Eager, are we?” His crooked grin was panty-dropping worthy.

He trailed his lips down your neck before you could reply, suckling gently over your pulse point.

The moan he pulled from you echoed around the room as you tilted your head to the side, allowing him more room to roam.

Your hands tighten their hold on his shoulders. You had always been extra sensitive around the neck and the combination of his lips and the tickle from his moustache was enough to send you into overdrive.

“Clyde…” You breathed out his name shakily, feeling tingles start to travel from your hands and up your arms from the excitement.

He hoisted you up surprisingly quickly from the sofa, causing you to let out a shriek in surprise.

He was strong. Of course, he was strong, you shouldn’t have expected anything else but still…

He carried you toward the bed, setting you down unceremoniously on the edge. You had to grab a hold of the sheet so as not to fall over.

“I want you to strip.” There was no room for arguing in his voice, and it was exactly what you needed. You didn’t want to have to think about your actions.

He was watching you intently, waiting for you to do as you were told, causing you to frantically reach for the zip of your fleece, pulling it down your arms and then throwing it mindlessly away from you.

Your shirt was the next thing that came off. Clyde’s gaze followed as your shirt revealed more and more skin. You didn’t miss the way he bit his lip hungrily.

Your bra wasn’t perhaps the sexiest thing you owned but you weren’t exactly expecting to be in the situation you were when you headed out that morning.

The bra joined the other items a bit slower. You wanted to drag it out; was it mean that you wanted him to have to suffer just a tiny bit?

You were basking in his obvious admiration of your body as you slowly slid the pants down and stepped out of them, leaving you in just your socks and underwear.

Perhaps it wasn’t the sexiest you had ever looked, but it was the sexiest you had ever felt, and that was the important part.

“Panties too.” He had started palming himself through his pants, huffing out small groans of satisfaction here and there. It had made you drenched and you did not doubt that it was obvious to him just how aroused you were.

You were finally standing there in front of him, completely bare, socks and panties having been removed. His eyes ran over every inch and crevice of you that was visible in the low light.

He was still fully dressed, having just unbuttoned his pants so that he could force his hand down to tug at himself.

“I want you to lay down and touch yourself.” Touch yourself? Couldn’t he do it? You opened your mouth to argue but one look from Clyde made you snap your mouth shut again.

The comforter was soft against your skin as you laid down on your back. You were shy as you separated your legs just enough so that you could slip your hand in between your legs.

The first touch was electric. You had never felt such a reaction from simply touching yourself. Sure, you were an expert in getting yourself off, but it never felt quite like this, not this good from so little.

You circled your bud, applying just the right pleasure that caused you to moan. Your eyes fluttered shut involuntarily, getting lost in the feeling building in your belly.

“Open yer eyes.” He had moved closer, a lot closer, with surprising stealth as you hadn’t heard even a low scuffle of feet. His eyes were commanding the attention of your own as he scolded you.

You withdrew your hand automatically from yourself, moving it up to rest on your belly, thinking that he must want you to stop. You were wrong, however, for his eyes snapped down to watch it and he scolded you once again.

“I didn’t tell ye to stop.” He only moved away once more when he was satisfied with your continued movements.

He walked over to the single chair by the living room table, dragging it with him back over to the bed, placing it by the end where he would get just the right view of you working yourself.

He pulled his pants down before sitting down with a huff. He had gone commando. You let out a whimper of need at the sight.

Clyde Logan was the owner of the most perfect cock you had ever seen. It was so heavy that it had barely been able to bob against his stomach, despite his sitting position.

You arched your neck, trying to get a closer look. It was swollen and huge and pink at the tip. His thumb was working over the head, smearing the precum that had leaked out.

“Ye stopped.” It was a statement, and he didn’t need to give you further instructions for you to once again start moving your hand between your legs.

You let it travel further down this time, to collect some of your wetness with two fingers before bringing it up to your mouth and tasting yourself. Sweet and tangy.

Clyde didn’t make a single sound to let you know if he was affected by your actions, so all you could do was assume that he was, and that was enough to spur you on.

You brought your hand back down, inserting a finger slowly, testing the waters. You were more than ready, your walls giving way easily to the intrusion.

A second soon joined the first and you set a steady rhythm, pumping them in and out with a squelch as your walls clenched around your digits. Your other palm came up to massage at your breast, twisting the nipple between your fingertips.

Your chest heaved with your moans that were penetrating the air. It was hard keeping your eyes open with the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling but you had to stay focus, you didn’t want to miss a second of seeing Clyde slumped from the pleasure of his touch as he fucked into his hand.

“I want ye to make yerself cum.” You were more than happy to give in to this demand. Your fingers were moving urgently inside of you, and your other hand moved on from your breast, coming down to pinch at your clit and then rub tight small circles over it.

The heat that had been steadily building inside of you, blossoming in your stomach, was slowly taking over your entire body now. Your toes were beginning to curl, and you were fighting your eyes from rolling backwards in your head.

And then, it all became too much for you and you let go and the best part of it all rolled over you like tidal waves, washing through you, soaking you with that post-orgasmic glow.

You let your fingers slowly slip out of you, letting your arms fall to your sides as you watched Clyde get up. You didn’t know if he had come, having been too focused on yourself, but it didn’t matter, he still stood at full attention.

Your mouth practically frothed at the sight of him, you could turn rabid from the need that you had for him. A whine slipped out of your mouth, an arm lifting up to reach out for him, needing to touch him.

He came close enough so that your fingers could just barely brush against the fabric of his pants that he still insisted on having on.

Rage took over your body. It was an irrational rage, why did he still have them on? You wanted them off and you wanted them off now. You had to see him, all of him, before you went insane from the deprivation. Was it even possible? To lose your mind over not getting to see another person naked? You certainly thought so.

You sat up, leaning on one of your shoulders as you looked up at him with a glare on your face.

“Take them off.” He was thoroughly amused by your attempt at a demand. You didn’t achieve quite the same rumble in your tone that he had which left no room for arguing, but still, he conceded and pushed the pants down his legs until they were low enough to be kicked off.

His shirt followed soon after, almost hitting you in the face as he threw it carelessly toward the corner of the bed.

You couldn’t help but admire him. A work of art, good enough to be hung in the Met, that was for sure.

You got on your knees in front of him, the height from the bed aiding you in being just tall enough so that you could place kisses on his chest- You placed the first one in the middle, right over his sternum whilst looking up at him.

Your eyes stayed locked as you planted another kiss over his heart, the next on his right pec, and so forth. They circled around one of his nipples, letting your teeth give it a small nibble before pulling it with you just a bit before releasing it and letting it revert to its original state, hard as a rock.

It was starting to get more and more obvious just how affected Clyde was getting, his arousal much more prominent, if that was even possible. You could feel it against your skin, you didn’t want to touch it just yet, dragging it out for as long as you could.

You enjoyed watching him become more and more flustered by your actions. His chest was heavy with each audible breath, cock tapping against your lower stomach, begging to be touched, but you kept your hands away. They were holding on to his thighs, caressing them in small movements that were making their way toward his cock at snail pace.

“Ye gon’ tease me all night?” You let out a laugh at the ridiculous accusation. If anybody had been the one to tease, it was Clyde.

“Are you going to tease me all night?” You threw the question back at him, biting your lip with an innocent smile.

He growled. He actually growled and you could feel how it caused a trickle to roll down your leg.

“Didn’t yer mammy or daddy ever teach ye not to talk back?”

“They didn’t actually” His eyes had steadily grown darker and darker as the evening progressed and were now on the border of black.

He smashed your lips together, grabbing a hold of your face with his right hand with a bruising grip. He kissed and nipped at your lips before pulling back and pushing you back onto the bed.

He was quick to follow you onto the bed as he guided you to lay on your back, spread eagle, with him kneeling between your legs. His hands were on his hips as he watched you. You squirmed under his gaze, trying to create some type of friction anywhere that would aid in bringing you closer to another release.

His kisses started on your inner knee, building their way up at a torturous pace. He didn’t leave a kiss between your legs; instead, he just hovered there so you could feel his hot breath tickle you before continuing.

You were practically sobbing for more when he finally made it to your lips.

“Please, you have to…”

“I have t’ what?” He looked completely serious as he looked down at you, balanced on one hand. He was expecting an answer from you, and you didn’t know what to say. You obviously wanted him to fuck you but for some reason, you were too shy to say it.

“Mhm… thought so,” He hummed before dropping down to his elbows pressing his entire body onto you.

You could feel all of him. His skin was electric against your own and you could feel his length brushing over your clit. He rolled his hips in a small wave and you arched your back from the moan that escaped you.

It had all built up so much that the smallest touch from him could cause you to completely fall apart, despite the orgasm you had had. It was because it was different when Clyde was the one that touched you; your own touch was nowhere near adequate in comparison.

He rolled his hips again, this time applying just a bit more pressure and you couldn’t help but to widen and draw up your legs slightly, wanting to give him easier access.

“I didn’t tell ye tha’ ye could move.” You were trembling from need at his words. You needed more; couldn’t he understand that?

You were reluctant as you started to bring your legs back down, but he (thankfully) hooked his left arm around your leg, stopping its descent. He hoisted it up to rest by the side of his hip as he simultaneously sat back upon his haunches.

“Do ye need me inside of ye?” Your head had started nodding before he could even finish the sentence, causing a wicked smile to spread across his face.

“I need t’ be inside of ye too.” They were the most glorious words you had ever heard.

His right hand gave a tug at his cock, but it didn’t need any more preparation. It was hard and as ready for you as you were him. He grabbed a hold of base, stabilizing it as he dragged it through your sweet and slickened folds before slowly slipping inside.

Your walls easily gave way for him as he finally pushed in due to your overflowing arousal. He stretched you as wide as you would go with little pain and raw pleasure. You were clenched tightly around him, walls squeezing him in a vice grip, trying to draw him in even deeper.

You could feel yourself grow more and more manic in your need as he sunk deeper and deeper into you. It was as if all other senses had disappeared and all you could focus on was his powerful thrusts that were drilling into you.

He kept your right leg at his hips, whilst his other hand was hoisting your left over his shoulder after just a few deep thrusts.

You choked from the warmth that spread through your body from this position. He was deeper than you even knew you could take him. The head of his cock tapping at your cervix with every drilling thrust but there was no pain, only excruciating pleasure that made tears leak from your eyes from happiness.

The carnal need was as fervent within Clyde as it was you. He couldn’t take it slow; his thrusts were forceful and intent on driving you to your next orgasm as quickly as he could.

“Fuck, ye feel good.” Clyde hissed. “Such a sweet an’ tight little pussy.”

Your eyes could barely focus on him, only catching small glimpses of him with his hair plastered to his forehead from the moisture that was collected there. Your hands were grasping onto the duvet, needing something to hold onto in desperation.

His thrusts were precise and well calculated; he hit that spot inside of you over and over again that made you let out guttural moans.

But he enjoyed torturing you and he suddenly came to a halt, retracting from you completely.

“Move over.” He helped to guide you in your haze. Your own movements were thankfully still quick despite your barely lucid mind as you shuffled to the side, and he laid down on the bed.

Clyde’s hand was supporting his base, helping it stand tall, ready for you to penetrate yourself onto it. You threw your leg over his hips to straddle him. You hovered over his cock, looking down to see how you were dripping on to him.

You didn’t stay there for too long before mounting yourself onto it, dropping down with a pant as you engulfed him within you.

The pace you set was frantic, chasing climax. Your hands came down to rest on his chest to better help you push yourself up and down his cock. The sound of your skin slapping against his echoed around the room, driving your wild.

He was a sight for sore eyes underneath you. Lost in the madness and wild from it all. His desire and pleasure were so clear on his face from the way his mouth was parted and the way his eyes admired you, following your every movement.

He used his right hand to help you ram down onto him again and again.

You got on your feet, gaining better leverage than you had had before on your knees, bouncing up and down. You were so, so close; you could feel your orgasm simmering there underneath the surface, you just needed a small push to get there. And Clyde delivered that small push.

“Yer such a good girl, takin’ me so well. You just love bein’ fucked, don’t ye?”

Your walls clamped down on him, legs shaking as you came to a stop, being unable to continue as you fell forward onto his chest, overwhelmed by the pleasure that filled your body.

He received you in his arms, letting his hand caress over your spine as you continued to slightly convulse from your orgasm.

“Such a good girl” He crooned in your ear with a kiss and tug on your lobe.

Clyde wasn’t as sweet when he pinned both your arms to your sides with one of his, holding you in place as he started slamming his hips up into you, chasing his own pleasure.

The sounds that came out of your as he rammed himself in over and over again were indistinguishable. You were gushing around him, your entire body vibrating from another orgasm, but he still didn’t let up. His hips were starting to stutter, however, thrusts being off-pace as he pounded into you.

And then a sharp thrust was accompanied by a husky cry as he ejected deep inside of you. He managed to pump into you a few more times as your walls milked him, your mixed climaxes collecting at his base.

You were exhausted, unable to move so he stayed there, deep inside of you as he grew flaccid.

You thought it was a fuck for the history books.

[ryqoshay]

Putting on Hairs - Post Production: Morning Coffee

Primary Pairing: ShikiMei Rating: G Words: 495 AU: Monsters, Cryptids Fandom: Love Live Superstar Parent Fic: Putting on Hairs - Post Production Time Frame: Early college years Event: Promptober 2022 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Coffee

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Author’s Note: Bonus 2nd entry for Oct 29th

Summary: Mei wakes up to one of her favorite morning routines

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Mei opened her eyes, then immediately shut them. Even filtered through the curtains the morning light was too much.

Someday, she might get used to the overwhelming amount of light there was in the world. Maybe. And in the meantime, Shiki had made a set of filtering lenses that could be adjusted in the amount of light they would let in. However, Mei had trouble wearing them, being far too worried about how they would make her look. Shiki, insisted they looked cute, but Mei knew her opinion was heavily biased, more so now that they were dating.

“Good morning, Mei.” A voice came from the kitchenette area of the dormroom.

Mei smiled. “Good morning, Shiki.” She replied before sitting up and swinging her legs off the side of the bed. She then began to stretch.

“I was just about to make coffee.”

“Mmm, yes, please.”

Shiki’s coffee had become one of Mei’s favorite morning routines, even if the eccentric scientist had her own… unique way of brewing it. But then again, Shiki had a unique way of doing pretty much everything.

Still, it was something that was actually worth opening her eyes.

Mei watched in amusement as Shiki lit the Meker burner under the glass spiral tube she called the heat exchanger. This setup apparently allowed more surface area of the water to absorb heat from the flame, or something like that, so it would reach a boil faster.

The steam was forced through another glass tube until it reached the coffee grounds. Then more tubes let it cool off enough to condense back down to a liquid where it would then drip down to a splitter that could fill one or two mugs.

Other friends had pointed out that there were fully contained, prebuilt devices that performed the same function. But Shiki insisted on continuing to use her contraption built from fairly standard lab equipment.

As far as Mei was concerned, she also preferred Shiki’s device. Not only because Shiki made it, but also because it was mostly glass so she could watch the entire brewing process of the bitter, yet strangely delicious liquid.

And of course there was the aroma. Nothing smelled quite like freshly brewed coffee. That and Mei had taken to trying to guess the origin of the beans.

Mei sniffed a few times. “A blend this time.” She observed. “Robusta and Arabica. But… both from… Madagascar?”

Shiki smiled. “Correct.”

Mei cheered to herself silently before reaching for her mug.

“Eh?” She uttered as she was blocked. “Oh. Sorry, Shiki.”

Mei turned and accepted her morning kiss from the surprisingly needy Shiki.

“Thanks for this.” She said, finally raising her mug to her lips.

“You’re welcome.”

“So, any suggestions for breakfast before we head to class?”

“I found a place online that serves Mont Blanc.”

“Shiki, that’s a dessert, not a breakfast food.”

“They also have blueberry parfaits on special this week.”

“… … Fine. Let’s give them a try.”

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Author’s Note Continued: Almost forgot I could use visual cues with this one...

[greyias]

FIC: Smoke and Mirrors - Chapter 18

Title: Smoke and Mirrors Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T Genre: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn Synopsis: Something’s rotten on Carrick Station, and Theron won’t rest until he  finds out what. But picking at the frayed threads of suspicion quickly  unravels a conspiracy much larger than even the Republic’s top spy can  handle on his own. (A mostly canon-compliant retelling of the Forged  Alliances storyline, as seen through the eyes of Theron Shan.) Author’s Notes and Spoilers: See Chapter 1.

Chapter Index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | Crossposted to AO3

The Heorum Complex technically stayed open twenty-four hours a day, because intelligence work never slept. However, the office experience varied wildly depending on the time of day. In the daytime, it was abuzz with activity. Agents sat at terminals working through reports and intel, analysts dutifully sorted through the steady stream of data being fed in from across the galaxy, and all the office support staff bustled about in the typical work day grind. The aroma of fresh-brewed caf would sometimes waft from the various kitchenettes and a constant background buzz of chatter filled most of the rooms.

Nighttime was a decidedly different mood. Darkened terminals and stations replaced the bustle of workers, doused in shadow after the overhead lights switched off for the evening. The shadows of the abandoned desks and chairs stretched across the empty rooms, like long, spindly fingers reaching out. The hum of constant chatter gave way to the clank and hum as the cleaner droids made their rounds on each floor. The sharp, antiseptic scent of the droids’ cleaning solution would overpower everything else. It was almost as sharp and jolting as a steaming mug of caf, although not nearly as pleasant to take in. 

If Theron were being honest, a steaming mug of caf wouldn’t go amiss right now. He needed to focus and had a long, grueling task ahead of him.

Tonight wouldn’t be the first night that he’d lost track of time and been the last one out — although the previous instances were unintentional. Today he’d made a show of getting too absorbed in his assignment; decoding some intercepted transmissions from an Imperial base that Marcus wanted a rush on. Theron had cracked the cipher earlier in the day, but feigned ignorance to draw out his time on the terminal as long as possible. He’d grabbed a station in the far corner of the room where no one could easily sneak up on him and spy the second set of coding he was working on.

Getting into the backdoor of the SIS mainframe was a tough task — as it should be. Technically, Theron shouldn’t have been able to do it himself, but it seemed like every time they closed up one vulnerability, he would nose out another exploit. He’d report this one… just as soon as he wrapped up here. Now, technically he still had access to these files via normal channels, but that would have left a record of him looking into a closed investigation. He needed to keep his inquiries into Darok off the radar until he found the proverbial smoking barrel. Meaning he needed to be very careful about what network activities they could trace back to him.  

Most of his work during the day had been meticulously finishing his code. He’d kept the decryption up just in case any nosy coworkers wanted to stop by for a chat, although most seemed content to leave him be. Jonas once told Theron that he got a certain look in his eye when he was “getting obsessed with a job” — whatever that meant. Of course, Jonas was always saying things like that. Theron was pretty sure his fellow agent made half of it up just to get a reaction.

No matter.

As the chrono edged past the hour and the whir of the cleaning droids faded into background noise, Theron decided he was truly alone. He dropped his subterfuge and used his backdoor to access the data on the Tython and Korriban investigations. With Highwind’s clue in mind, he pulled up the archived security footage from the Jedi Temple. The recovery team managed to save several recordings in addition to what Theron had during the operation. He used Highwind’s liberation of the temple as his starting point and slowly rewound the footage. Even though he’d witnessed it all live, there was something still a little mesmerizing about watching the whirl of her lightsabers, even in reverse. She truly was a master of the form, that was hard to deny. If the action was difficult to follow in holo form, it must be positively dizzying to witness in person.

Her part in the footage was over quickly enough, and he focused his attention on the entire picture. He watched as the imperial figures on the recording in their attempt to set up their doomed attempt at a trap for the Jedi Master and her crew. Some stirrings of angry feelings tried to resurface, but he pushed them away. There was no time to indulge in that sort of nonsense. He had a much more important job to do. 

It was a painstaking and at times infuriating process to watch as the Imperials ransacked the temple in reverse march. But he remained focused, steadfastly analyzing the images until a flash of something caught his attention. He paused the footage and shuttled it until he found it. He grabbed a still frame and brought it over to another piece of software to enhance the image and zoom in on the activity right outside the library. The details were a bit obscured from the cropped image, but was able to just make out a tall, imposing Chagrian in robes handing off what looked like an artifact of some sort to a group of Imperial soldiers. 

Frowning, Theron zoomed in on the artifact more, and ran it through a program specially designed to enhance blurry and pixelated images. It used a combination of algorithmic predictions and artificial intelligence to fill in the blank pixels at higher resolutions. The processing power required by the program was intense enough that it was prohibitively expensive to deploy into the field, so Theron didn’t get a chance to use it much. He watched the screen in fascination as the software worked its image reconstruction magic in almost real time, seeing the pixelated details of the artifact slowly sharpen into focus. If he was a betting man, he’d put a few credits on this being the missing Rakatan artifact. 

Target confirmed, he grabbed a few stills from other angles and repeated the process, until he gathered enough high-resolution stills to stitch together a rough, fully dimensional holographic representation of the stolen item. None of this told him the function of the artifact in question, or even why someone would go through the farce of storming strongholds of the galaxy’s most powerful Force users to retrieve them.

He pursed his lips together and set up a database query on his reconstruction and let it run. As the numbers and results flew by on the screen, Theron let his mind wander to the best way to determine the function and importance of the artifact. There were a few archaeologists in the Republic who specialized in Rakatan culture and tech who might have some insight. There would probably be too many questions though if some agent showed up at their office with an image of some old ruins, asking about their potential destructive capabilities and security risks. There was always employing a disguise, maybe an amateur archaeologist, a writer doing research for the next sensational holonovel. It could definitely yield some answers on why the Empire would go through the trouble of raiding Tython to get the artifact — or it could expose his investigation.

Theron decided not to risk it. Best to see what information the SIS database had and go from there.

While the query ran, he pulled up a report that someone in Analytics appended to the Tython incident. They’d scrubbed the comm logs and been able to get a clean image of the Sith Lord that Highwind had spoken with. Theron couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the numerous comments scribbled in the margins about the Jedi in question. Most of it was speculation about the Hero of Tython’s ridiculously competent combat capabilities, which Theron was becoming fairly familiar with at this point. It was the notes on the identity of the Sith Lord that Theron found more interesting. Apparently it had taken quite a bit of cross-referencing, but the report writer identified the figure as one Darth Arkous, a member of the Dark Council in charge of the Sphere of Military Offense. It made sense for someone in his position to be involved in the raid on Tython, but…

That funny niggling feeling that had plagued Theron from the start of all of this reared its head again. On a hunch, he pulled up the mass of data he’d siphoned off from Korriban. The nerds in Analytics had yet to finish delving into the virtual playground of potential intel, and the security footage that he’d obtained looked like it was on the bottom of the priority list to process. It suited him just fine, especially now that he knew what he was looking for. 

Once again he started at a common reference point. This time was the stormy expression of his Jedi Knight Extraordinaire marching out of the Academy after Jensyn executed the Dark Council member in front of her. Theron tapped his finger on the desk, watching the angry set of her jaw and the dramatic fluttering of her cape as she made her way off camera. He blinked, but kept his eyes on the screen, curious to what he had missed after he’d looked away from the Academy’s interior. As the footage scrolled forward, he watched the dizzying activity of the SpecOps secure the temple. From this angle, they almost resembled little ants darting about. In fact, there was so much activity he nearly missed the elevator doors on the second floor opening as Jensyn stepped out. Theron paused his shuttling and cross-referenced the timecode as he paged through the various files to see if there was a better angle. The third recording that had a clear, unobstructed view of Jensyn handing off an artifact to one of his men. The soldier tucked the artifact under his arm and immediately headed for one of the shuttles leaving the surface. Theron viewed the entire exchange with a deep, troubled frown.

He repeated the process he’d used on the Tython footage, cobbling together various angles of the artifact together into a holographic representation. He pulled up his reconstruction of the other stolen artifact from the Jedi Temple and laid it and its Sith Academy counterpart side-by-side. They were an exact match.

His jaw ached as his teeth ground together, that familiar anger bubbling up from deep within his gut. The brooding session was cut short by an alert letting him know that his database query had finished. A quick reshuffling of his programs had everything up on screen, and Theron stared at the twin stolen artifacts alongside a readout from the SIS database confirming they were Rakatan in origin. The liner notes were sparse, as there was scant information available. No confirmation on their function, but a suspected origin from the Lehon system with a possible excavation date from nearly three hundred years prior.

“Gotcha,” Theron muttered in grim satisfaction.

There was no one around to hear it. And this sort of circumstantial evidence probably wouldn’t be admissible in any court, but it was enough confirmation for Theron that his suspicions had been warranted. Darok lied about the reason for the raid on Korriban. Or, as it was becoming clear, a robbery. 

He made a few discreet copies of all the files pertinent to his investigation, being sure to diligently scrub each step of his data trail. It had edged past dusk into evening by the time he completely wiped his activities from the system. It was late enough that the commuter traffic thinned out, and the hovertrain ride back to his apartment was quiet, with only the occasional drunk swaying in the corner that paid him no mind. The trip was just long enough to mull over the evening’s revelations, and plan to dig further into his files back in the safety of his apartment with some leftover takeout.

A plan that, like most of his well-thought out ideas, derailed the moment he got in the door to his apartment. His implants sent him a ping — the HoloNet trace on Darok had picked up activity. No rest for the weary, nor apparently time for a meal of stale takeout. He pored over the details of the alert. Apparently Darok had arranged for some ships for travel. It was the destination on the manifest that made Theron quirk an eyebrow: Manaan.

“Now why would you be heading there?” Theron mused aloud. Much like in the empty office, there was no one to answer. It was just as well, because there was only one way to answer that question.

It was well past midnight by the time he’d made his own travel arrangements and a craft a proper cover story for them. He was about to close up everything for the night and catch a few hours of sleep, but as he stared at the screen, he hesitated. He sat in contemplation for a few moments, before opening up his mail terminal, and began typing.

To: Greyias Highwind  From:  Theron Shan Subject: Noteworthy

It looks like our old pal is on the move in a few days here to Manaan. I’m gonna tag along — at a distance — and see what our friend is up to. I also found some rather interesting things in my research today. One might even call it noteworthy. If this lead pans out, I’ll have my astromech contact you with the details. Hopefully you’re all rested up and recovered after your little adventure.

I think things are about to get really interesting.

[thebeautyofdisorder]

The Undone & The Divine (BBC Dracula) - Chapters 1 & 2

A/N: Okay, I am rusty - very rusty, so feel free to give me some notes. This will be multiple parts - maybe 4 or 5 - and will remain open ended for future additions. It will be a snarky, confused occult monstrosity with a lot of thus far unresolved sexual tension and I'm not sorry. Takes place after the end of The Dark Compass. I will be posting this on AO3 eventually, but for now...

Rating: T, currently just for some blood and maybe language

Pairing: Dracula & Zoe/Agatha 

Can be found on AO3 - Right HERE -

“Wherever this shadowed path might lead, we were both irrevocably committed to follow it to the end.” - Susan Kay, Phantom

                                                       Chapter 1

The first thought that arose in Zoe’s mind was simply that she shouldn’t be having any. No, an inward argument seemed to be countering, but that she had been growing accustomed to. Faith was an inner struggle she was stubbornly coming to terms with, given that there was a very literal opposing force in her ancestor that enjoyed prodding at her modern, atheistic convictions. Not even in religious fervor, nun’s habit notwithstanding, but just for amusement’s sake. She could see where she inherited her argumentative nature from.  

Head swimming, potential psychosis or no, she had expected at least death to be final. A distant bell of alarm jolted somewhere in her mind, as some sense of memory and consciousness began to return to her, soon followed by sensation seeping back to her body. She expected the worst, but what she experienced instead was simply…nothing. The pain which had been her constant companion for the last few months was gone. She didn’t even feel the typical stiffness of a woman pushing forty waking up on a cold, hard surface should rightly feel. 

Cold, hard surface…

Her eyelids shot open, and she sat up so quickly she felt immediately dizzy. At least there was still blood to rush to my head, she mused dimly, though luckily her legs hadn’t gotten the fight or flight message quite as quickly, or else she would have tumbled straight onto the floor. The hard, polished marble beneath her, still sticky with her blood, brought the events of the morning, however distant they were, rushing back to her.

If this wasn’t some twisted form of coma dream, and she wasn’t actually hooked up to some machine at the hospital, she was going to have to have a chat with Auntie Agatha about consenting to suicide by vampire. Mostly due to the fact she was very much alive – or at the very least, moving and conscious. Her hand pressed to her neck, feeling nothing but dried blood surrounding a slightly raised scar at the crook of her shoulder.

Not always equivalent, she reminded herself with barely repressed panic. Or maybe Agatha reminded her. It was becoming harder and harder to tell the difference.

But what of the vampire? 

Half freezing in the semi-darkness, Zoe waited what felt like a decade, searching for any sound or sign of movement in the room…in the flat. Nothing. Silence. 

The natural curiosity of the scientist, refusing to lay dormant any longer, pushed past her fear and uncertainty, and drove her to slide off the edge of the table on shaking legs. There was no sign of Dracula, dead or alive that she could see. Instead her eyes sought out a light switch. 

She half expected to see a large pile of dust and ash, or worse – some sticky pile of blood and skin, like a B-horror film she’d seen as a teenager, but aside of what remained of Lucy, the floor was immaculate, in only the way the living dead could maintain. 

Strangely lacking any sense of urgency, she paced through the rest of the flat, observing the dark modern decor with a distant amusement that belonged more to Agatha than to herself. The washroom was almost entirely unused, save for the large standing shower, more of a luxury than a necessity, she assumed. The kitchenette seemed to be only taking up space, and while there were a few stray tea bags and a chipped mug, likely belonging to some human help – the lawyer probably, the rest of it was barren. Finally reaching the bedroom, she found the curtains still fully drawn, and the bed large and vacant.

If he survived, he was gone. Some unknown part of her felt a pang of disappointment, and an equal echo of triumph. She wasn’t sure which one to blame Agatha for, and she was left no hints.

Well, that was one mystery solved.

Collapsing on the mattress, Zoe closed her eyes, and did something she never thought she’d have to do: she fell silent and listened for her own heartbeat. At first there was an unnerving stillness. Finally, after approximately 15 seconds (she had been counting), she heard the first soft thump in her chest. Half relieved, she let out a breath, and began counting again – she heard it once more. Faint and very slow, but present, yes!

Fascinating. Agatha’s quietly accented tone was one of clinical fascination, something Zoe could ascertain easily as it echoed through her mind.

Zoe quietly agreed. Somehow, she…they were now something more than undead, but less than fully alive. 

Something like the count himself. 

------

There were times that the highly illegal nature of the Harker Institute was a damning thing, and one that caused Zoe great inconvenience. This was not one of those times. A woman previously dying of cancer showing up to work to get a full range of clandestine tests was not something to be trusted to the general public. If she hadn’t been so amazed, she was sure her predecessor would’ve been highly disappointed to see her. 

She had left Dracula’s London flat exactly as it was, and headed straight to the Institute. It wasn’t exactly a police matter, and now that Agatha had destroyed the vampire’s …agoraphobia? Whatever it was she had done, there wasn’t anything they could really do to ward him away. The sun was no longer a viable weapon, and while she was sure his distaste for Christian imagery wouldn’t just vanish overnight, his need to be invited into a location was gone and probably easily forgotten when convenient. 

The dirt…well, that was a different story. She found no trace of it in his flat, save for a musty residue in the corner of a now empty closet. That was the one part of the puzzle she had yet to figure out. Was that just another part of his self-ordained folklore, or did it actually have some restorative power. Did it contain some needed mineral or compound? Surely there was a scientific reason behind it if so.

As scientific as why you’re walking around with half the blood you need to function? Or that you haven’t eaten in 36 hours and have no appetite. You can drink water, at least, that’s a blessing.

She refrained from voicing her annoyance aloud – last thing she needed was for her colleagues to think she was undead AND crazy. Neither of which was entirely true… or entirely false. At least they weren’t locking her up. Not yet. 

“Dr. Helsing?” 

Zoe shook herself from her thoughts to look up at the lab tech who’s just entered the room, giving the girl a distant smile. 

“Yes?” 

“Dr. Bloxham wants to see you downstairs…it’s about your test results.”

Which test results she wanted to ask, but didn’t, merely got up and followed the girl who was taking great pains to keep a healthy distance between them out of the room. She didn’t blame her. It had taken Jonathan Harker a month to show any vampiric urges. They saw her as a ticking time bomb. 

------

“Well, for the positive, any trace of cancer seems to have…vanished from your system.”

Zoe had guessed as much, and perhaps her lack of reaction was what brought the look of concern to her colleague’s face.

“And for the negative?” 

The other woman silently bit her lip for a moment, and instead of immediately responding, she stood from her chair and gestured for Zoe to take the seat in front of the computer. 

Pointing from over her shoulder, Bloxham indicated two files in the folder in front of her. One was labeled with Zoe’s name, and the other was data collected from Dracula’s blood sample. 

“What’re you trying to show me?” She sounded tired, and perhaps she was. It was hard to tell anymore. The enfeebled exhaustion she had felt constantly up until the night before was gone, but the memory lingered like a bad taste in her mouth.

“Open them.” The comment was clipped, but more in anticipation than impatience. 

Zoe did just that, and looked over the standard blood analysis results. To say the differences were minimal was almost too generous. 

“I don’t know what happened to you exactly – given you won’t tell me…,” she began, eyeing Zoe with a meaningful look, “But your DNA is...I don’t want to say mutated, but...altered. You’re alive, don’t get me wrong – but your readings all look as though they should come from someone on the verge of death – in a coma at the least! And well…look at you.” It was rhetorical, Zoe knew, but she still found herself seeking out the nearest reflective surface, just to ensure she saw her own face as she knew it looking back at her. 

“I can’t force you, but I’m going to strongly recommend you stay here so you can be closely monitored for any further….changes.” 

Zoe, never one to be a victim of circumstance, rolled her eyes with a casual scoff. If she was going to be anyone’s lab rat, it might as well be her own. 

“Well, obviously. I want every even minimal change documented to the fullest,” she agreed, immediately standing to her feet and stalking over to a microscope she knew without needing to ask contained a slide of her sample, rerouting her focus. “Have you compared the saliva?” 

The other woman’s relief was palpable. Or maybe she could smell it? Zoe shook that possibility off, quickly, refusing to jump to that particular conclusion quite so quickly. 

“Still waiting for the full analysis, but what I do have is Dracula’s sample, which is frankly…fascinating,” Dr. Bloxham stated excitedly, eyeing Zoe with a curious expression as she approached, her caution taking a backseat to her excitement. 

“Oh?” A woman after her own heart.

“Yes… take a look,” she offered, changing the slides quickly and offering the scope back for her perusal. “It contains some almost psychotropic like compound. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Zoe felt her body temperature rise for the first time since she’d awoken in London. She wasn’t sure if she had the circulation to blush, but she dearly hoped not. For once, there was no snarky Dutch echo in her mind – in fact, aside from a flash of orange light, and blink of another memory she couldn’t latch onto, her mind went suspiciously quiet. 

“Yes. Fascinating.”

                                                 Chapter 2

Frank Renfield considered himself a generally normal man, by all intents and purposes. In fact, he had always been considered normal to the point of being right boring, so it was he himself who was most surprised how easily he had adjusted to playing personal assistant, in matters both legal and practical, to a blood drinking supernatural entity. On that note, it was with only minimal confusion that he found himself returning to his residence after a resolutely boring day at the office, to find his front door broken half off the hinges, and a trail of thick, congealing blood leading through his sitting room straight through to the loo. 

“Master?” He called, uneasily, taking care to hop over a particularly dark pool seeping out from under the door. 

He was met with silence, save for a subtle gurgling sound that brought a wince to his face, though it was not coming from his loo any more, but from the spare bedroom directly adjacent. He used to have a flatmate, but he’d moved months ago. The room now contained nothing but junk, some gym equipment he never used, and a few large crates that Count Dracula had asked him to store, though why he had no idea. 

“C-count?” Renfield stammered, his hand turning the knob. Taking a deep, staggered breath, he finally pushed open the door.  

The treadmill in the corner of the room, heavy and outdated as it was, was toppled and resting almost completely upside down. A box of heavy and expensive law tomes had been dumped out across the floor, and the box was now leaking a dark liquid which had soaked through the cardboard. The lid of one of the large wooden crates was splintered, and half-resting against the back of the door, making it impossible to push all the way open, though Renfield could see well enough from the hall that the crate was now overflowing with some sort of dark soil, and it was the tall form of what he assumed to be his master that was splayed at an unnatural angle inside of it, though he did not look like his suave and put together self.

His shirt was torn, and stained almost entirely in various shades of black, red and rust brown. His hair was graying in reverse, as though the color had dripped out of the roots, plastered around his aging face. 

“Renfield…”

He heard the name whispered inside his mind, Frank realized with mild horror, because the sound that came from the creature in front of him was too much of a croak to contain any proper syllables. Finding the strength to force himself into the room, he rushed to the vampire’s side only to realize with a strange sort of amusement that the entire mess seemed to be due to Dracula vomiting all over his flat much like he had after his first college party. A stomach ache for a vampire, apparently was much worse than for a hungover teenage boy, however.

“Master! You seem to have eaten someone very unhealthy for you…. One moment.” 

Dodging around the pools of what he could only assume was half-digested blood, Frank squeezed back out of the room and came back with a sterile bag of B-positive that he cautiously presented to the weakened form. 

“Picked it up from the blood bank this morning… nuclear physicist, visiting from Sweden…seemed to be a wasted opportunity,” he offered, weakly, but he needn’t have bothered. The vampire had already punctured the bag with one of his ghastly sharpened nails before he’d opened his mouth and was sucking it down with a sharp and unsettling growl, and Renfield didn’t stay around to watch.

“I’ll go and…fetch something more lively, hm?” And with that he scuttled out of the room, before the count could regain the strength to seek out the next source of sustenance in sight…mainly him.

-------

“How are you feeling?”

“Indestructible.” 

Indestructible. That had been the word he’d used, just before the ship had sent him to his century long sleep. He never thought for a moment that it would be true, nor that he would have any reason to lament that fact. And yet… here he laid. Weak, indeed. In pain, surely. But very much alive… as alive as he could get anyway. He had forced himself to ingest the poison, and he had waited for death’s sweet embrace. Nothing. He just laid there, the sun beaming directly into his eyes, his stomach roiling like it hadn’t done since he was an insipid mortal, and yet he never even lost consciousness!  For once he had sought out oblivion, instead of fighting it, and it wouldn’t take him! The nerve! He had given death hundreds…thousands over the years! And she would still turn him away like some sort of petulant beggar. 

It was hours before he decided that if death wasn’t going to be quick about it that there really was no use waiting around. Zoe’s body lay stiff beside him, and though he knew the likelihood was slim, the sick ones rarely did more than rot, he left her there just in case. If he were any less…himself, he would’ve labeled it a blind, potential hope that she would rise again. That if he were going to be stuck being alive (not that it wasn’t her bloody fault he was suddenly so aggravated by that!), that maybe she would be stuck with him. Would serve them right… the Van Helsing women, the biggest inconveniences he’d had in his whole un-life. 

He couldn’t stay there…that boy knew where he was, and would no doubt send someone to look for him, or return himself. He considered, of course, waiting around, but honestly he didn’t even know if a stake to the heart was worth bothering to test at this rate. All of his other beliefs were useless… his fears. Why would he think just because it’s worked on some half-mad fledglings it would even work on him? Luckily he knew better than to keep his potentially useless dirt all in one place, at the least. Would he eventually regenerate without it? He didn’t know anymore. All his memories seemed to twist and deform. And with five centuries worth, that was an awful lot. 

A chance he decided not to take. If he survived this, he would need to buy his lawyer new carpet. He would need to do a lot of things. Perhaps venture south of the equator. 

------

It was fascinating how much the lack of needing to eat and sleep as often, nor attend five different doctors, affected her time management skills. Zoe felt like she never ran out of time, for research or reading or…well, that was it really. That was what she devoted her time to – not just for the sake of others now, but for her own future.  So much so that not leaving the institute didn’t really seem like a confinement at all, even though that was precisely what it was. 

As the days turned into a week, the other doctors – her friends, her colleagues, became even more unsettled by her presence. Not because she looked, or behaved like a walking corpse, but just the sheer lack of human ‘distractions’ she participated in. Also the constant shifting of vocal inflection didn’t seem to help.

Apparently Sister Agatha Van Helsing was not going anywhere. Either she wasn’t able to, didn’t want to, or had permanently infected her mind. She was beginning to get used to it. She had to wonder if Dracula himself ever had issues like this with anyone. Did Agatha hound him to? How much of his personality is his own and how much is taken from his victims? One had to assume it was the superstition of his victim pool that had tainted his own beliefs – that and the fact that even he refused to embrace the art of being a predator with limitless power. 

She sincerely hoped that wherever he’d gone to, he’d kept that in mind. Something told her, however, that he wasn’t actually that far. It wasn’t a voice, or any particular deductive reasoning that gave her that knowledge. It was just something she knew, however unsettling that fact was. 

“Zoe!” 

She frowned, blinking out of her daze. Dr. Bloxham was blocking her from pacing back to the computer where she’d been unconsciously headed. 

“Love, you have got to get out of here for a while. You haven’t slept longer than 3 hours a night since you’ve been here, you barely eat. You need to take a break.” 

Zoe sighed, reluctantly relenting her attention. 

“My body’s becoming intolerant to certain...things, I’m currently trying to find out what it isn’t intolerant to. And what it’s desperately lacking – iron, for starters. Does that help?” 

“Great. We’ll figure out what it’s intolerant to at the pub, before you drive yourself batty… no pun intended.” 

“I don’t drink,” she protested, but found herself shrugging out of her lab coat anyway.

“You stopped drinking because you were ill, which you no longer are,” the other woman protested, quite logically unfortunately, taking the coat from her. “Besides, there’s food there as well, which you desperately need, and sunlight would do you good. Have you even tried to eat anything but crisps and Chinese take away? Maybe you need something a little more tangible, that’s all.”

She sincerely doubted it, but anything – even tossing up her guts at a pub – was better than everyone looking at her like some sort of foreign contagion. She wasn’t a vampire. Not yet, and if she could help it, she never would be. 

---

Edited to add tags for the people on this hellsite that have been keeping me from writing this by posting their own undead content that I’ve been consuming instead - be it fic or gifs or playlists or just thirsty shitposts. Ha, I have defied your attempts at distraction, but I honor you all the same: @my-fanfic-library @ohveda @imagineandimagine @wannabebloodsucker @hoefordarkness @mymagicsuitcase @crazytxgradstudent @itendedbadly @theplumsoldier @gatissed @allfandoms-writings @littlemessyjessi @punk-courtesan @vampiregirl1797

I’m sure I’ve forgotten many of you, but I legit just scrolled my last week worth of likes, and now I have to go to the dentist, then hope I’m not too whiny to finish my fanvid. 

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Calling (3)

FANDOM - MCU

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -  In which the ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on how much you would enjoy it.

Chapter Three - Vernichtung 

Bucky stormed away from the kitchen and from you as fast as his feet could carry him. His chest was heaving and his shoulders were shaking as he tried to contain the rage coursing through him. As soon as you had viciously cut him with your words he had almost lost control for a split second and had slammed his metal fist onto the counter before he could…

“Bucky.” Steve’s voice cut into his anger clouded mind before he could finish the thought.

Bucky paused but didn’t turn around, ragged breaths tearing themselves from his throat as he tried to calm down.

“What was that?” Steve’s voice was low and even and when Bucky ignored him he continued.

“I have never seen her act like that, I’ve never seen heard you say such cruel things either. What the hell happened between you two to cause that?”

Bucky pushed his hair out of his eyes and shrugged half heartedly

“I guess being called damaged goods pushed her buttons and she snapped. And people call me unstable.” Bucky snarked.

Steve glared at him and opened his mouth, probably to give a Captain America patented lecture before realization flickered across his face and he frowned.

“That’s not it Buck, I wouldn’t tell her you said that and besides we were together the whole time. She couldn’t have known what you said about her.” Steve’s tone made it clear he was still annoyed about what exactly Buck had said.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed and he half smirked

“Maybe little miss perfect needs to remember she’s not the only one with enhanced hearing.”

Steve’s mouth opened and closed several times before he clenched his jaw, the ramifications of what Bucky was saying sinking in.

“You heard her coming and knew she could hear you. That’s why you said those things. You wanted her to hear them.”

“She needed to hear it Steve, she prances about this place having everybody fawn over her. She’s nothing special, she’s just a failed experiment. She doesn’t deserve special treatment.” Bucky snarled.

“Are you jealous of her? Buck you have me, you have memories of a life before all that. She had nothing. She was born and raised in that damn facility. People fawn over her because its the first and only kindness she’s ever been shown!” Steve’s volume rose as he spoke

“Get your head together and stop treating her so awful. She deserves better, she’s a good person!” Steve pleaded with his oldest friend.

Bucky scoffed in response and walked away

“She’s not a person at all Steve.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sam raised his fist and knocked on the door as he mulled over the situation with Y/N and Barnes. A couple of seconds passed before the door swung open and he pushed the issues aside for a brief moment so he could spare a heartfelt smile for the red haired spy he had sought out. She responded with a smirk of her own and a raised brow.

“What can I do for you Wilson?” Natasha enquired curiously.

“Need you to help me diffuse a rapidly escalating situation.”

She swung the door open and invited him in with a tilt of her head. Sam made a beeline for the kitchenette and immediately busied himself making coffee. He glanced over to the couch where Natasha was subtly piling up paperwork and files. Noticing him watching she slipped them out of sight.

“Little side project I’m doing for Stark.” She said by way of explanation.

Sam knew that was all the explanation he was going to get.

“So I take it this is about Barnes and Y/N?” She asked

“Man I’m not even gonna ask how you know.”

“Not much outside of a mission could have you this wound up and the tension between them has been growing steadily. It was only a matter of time before it escalated.” She told him.

“Well she overheard him basically calling her unlovable and broken and she responded by reminding him he was a murderer and she… was not. Then Robocop broke the kitchen. You know Steve and I actually thought those two were going to be good for each other once upon a time. Similar backstory and all that.” Sam handed over her coffee as he sighed wistfully.

“There are elements of similarity there but a lot of differences as well. They were never going to get along because they each have the one thing the other wants more than anything.” Natasha told him.

“He has a normal human past and she has a clean rap sheet. It’s like somehow a genie mixed up their wishes.” Sam mused.

Natasha hummed in agreement as she sipped the latte contentedly. Nobody made coffee like Sam Wilson.

“So how do we stop this before somebody gets hurt?” Sam asked her.

Natasha smiled her super spy ‘I know something you don’t know’ smile

“Sometimes Wilson, the only way out is through”

“You’re not honestly suggesting we do nothing? They’ll kill each other.”

“There’s nothing we can do. We can’t make them like each other and any attempts to sway them will be seen as hostile. We just have to pick up the pieces and let them work it out of their systems.” She advised.

“Fine, but when they start Civil War 2 Caps gonna be pissed I’m not on his side. Barnes took my steering wheel, he’s not taking my Y/N.”

“Did you just compare Y/N to a steering wheel?”

“That came out wrong.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You curled your body into the smallest ball you could as you soaked up the sense of warmth and safety your current location gave you. Someone’s legs passed your line of vision but you didn’t flinch, you knew who it was. You considered calling out to let him know you were there but decided against it. You were perfectly content where you were and knowing he was close by was enough. The decision was for nought as you yawned softly as the legs passed you by again, the end of your yawn tapering off into a squeak as you stretched. The legs paused in front of you and suddenly you were staring at the upside down amused face of Tony Stark.

“You napping under my desk again Kit Kat?”

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows at you, which from your current position looked comical.

“I’m relaxing, not napping.” You protested as you crawled out from under the desk.

When you had first been brought out of the facility where you were made the only person you felt safe around was Tony. Since Tony spent most of his time in the lab you’d been made to feel at home in the space. In the beginning open spaces still made you uneasy and you’d spent most of your time curled up under his desk. Tony never questioned your behaviour or made you feel weird about it, instead he just took to fondly calling you an abundance of cat related nicknames and made sure there were always blankets and pillows in your little safe space.

Tony tossed a screwdriver in your general direction and pointed you towards… well you weren’t sure what it was. A sci-fi looking contraption.

“Unscrew all the metal plates from the sides.” He instructed you.

“Am I average looking?” You asked him.

He paused from whatever he was doing on the other side of the lab and puzzled over your strange question. Or rather you assumed that was what he was doing. It had been part of Bucky’s original assessment to Steve of you and the only part of his insult you weren’t insulted by. More curious as to whether it was accurate.

“No. You’re beautiful.” Tony said matter of factly and went back to whatever he was doing.

Despite what other thought of him or how he acted with others Tony was actually incredibly patient with you. He never belittled or mocked you. He teased you relentlessly but had never come close to hurting your feelings with it. Whenever you didn’t understand something he just explained it. You had come out of the facility with very little knowledge of the world and the way it worked. Thanks to Tony you were a (mostly) fully functioning adult who could make pop culture references. Whenever you didn’t understand something, which happened less and less you had a system. If it involved science, technology or media you asked Tony. If it involved feelings, social interactions or societal regulations you asked Pepper. It was a good system and it served you well.

“This is the wrong screwdriver” You muttered

You grinned happily at the familiar whizzing sound as Dum-E came over to you excitedly waving the correct screwdriver. You crouched down to him and took it, patting him on the head affectionately. You didn’t see Tony watching you fondly but Natasha watching through the glass door caught it. With a smirk she entered the lab and tossed an envelope onto the desk next to Tony.

“As requested. And before you try and thank me, I was happy to do this one. It was my pleasure.” She quipped, throwing a glance back at you over her shoulder.

Tony looked somewhere between giddy and nervous as he looked down at the envelope. You were too busy babbling away to Dum-E as he tried to assist you with Tony’s contraption to pay attention to what was going on. You had heard Natasha come in but figured she’d come and see you after she spoke to Tony. You didn’t think whatever they were discussing was any of your business. You were wrong. The familiar sound of high heels clipping along the corridor reached your eyes and you stood up excitedly.

“Pepper!” You yelled excitedly

“Um… where?” Tony asked, looking around in confusion.

“That’s my cue to leave.” Natasha informed him and started to slip out of the lab.

She threw you a wink as you frowned at her, wordlessly letting you know she wasn’t ignoring you and everything was alright. She and Pepper passed each other in the doorway as Pepper rushed in.

“Did I miss it? Do you have them?” Pepper demanded of Tony, forgoing all hello’s.

Tony’s eyes barely hit the envelope before Pepper snatched it up and started methodically checking the contents. You and Dum-E shared a look of confusion before Pepper let out a loud exhale and nodded to Tony.

“Alright whiskers, we need to have a talk.” Tony informed you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

An hour later you were walking around the grounds in a daze. You wandered around aimlessly, your mind going a thousand miles a minute and your stomach churning. Anyone you came across ducked their head and gave you a wide berth, the dark emotions almost visibly rolling off you keeping them away. Until now. You hadn’t really registered the pounding sound of boots hitting the ground as someone jogged around the building. It was only when your blank stare into the void had lined up with the jogger that you crashed back into your own mind and you scowled. Around the same time Bucky slowed his jog down as he noticed you, his expression contorting to a scowl as well.

You almost swerved off the path to go walk across the grass and away from him but you refused to give him the satisfaction and instead jutted your chin up and glared at him.

“Soldat.” You hissed at him scathingly.

He nodded cooly at you as he casually jogged passed

“Vernichtung.” He tossed the greeting back at you with a smirk.

Your insides twisted painfully and bile rose up in the back of your throat when you heard the word. You screeched to a halt with a gasp as you tried to suck in enough oxygen. Bucky noted your reaction with a victorious grin.

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Ever.” You growled out.

Bucky ceased jogging and turned back round to look at you and saw your wide eyed panicked expression. Your shoulders were raised and your hands clenched into fists as you hyperventilated. Bucky frowned, the beginnings of guilt stirring in him. You looked terrified, he could practically smell the fear on you. Yet… you had called him soldat first. A few hours ago you had called him a killer. In fact this was probably another act you were putting on, like your little performance with the waffles. His eyes narrowed at you.

“Why? That is your name isn’t it? That’s what they called you before Stark picked you up and gave you a new name. Like re homing a pet from the pound.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, fury beginning to push out the fear in your system.

“That’s all you are you know. An abused stray The Avengers picked up.”

The more he spoke the clearer your mind got. He thought he was getting to you but his words were having the opposite effect to what he intended. He was only reminding you what you weren’t.

“You’re not a teammate, or a friend to anyone here. You’re a pity project. Stop fooling yourself into thinking that you’re actually a real person. You’re nobody.”

His words made something inside of you click and you smiled softly to yourself as you reached into your pocket and pulled out the gift Tony had given you. Flipping it open you held it up for him to see.

“Actually Bucky, I’m a Stark.”

You turned on your heel and walked away from him, not caring how he reacted. You looked down at the passport in your hands with warmth blooming in your heart as you read your name. You were a Stark.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

         Vernichtung (German)

destruction (the act of destroying)

annihilation, extinction

I sure hope this tagging thing works! Here’s part three folks.

@dugan365 @memanda17 @fluffeh-kitty

[renegade-skywalker]

A Fool’s Wager

“Wouldn’t expect a Jedi to want to gamble. Former or otherwise,” Atton quipped, gesturing the canteen at Eden as if in cheers, “Looks like we’re both full of surprises.”

The apartment was spotless. Every outlet worked and was properly tacked to the wall. Every console lit up at the touch of a finger. The displays were outdated, but they worked. The lights in the refresher were a soft, supple yellow, not the harsh white-blue of the sorry excuse for a residential module the Peragus outfit had assigned. Cheap bastards.

Atton stood in the small kitchen, admiring the appliances and their lack of ever having been used, it seemed. Like everything else that furnished their TSF appointed quarters, the appliances were models put out maybe twenty standard years ago but still in good condition. There was hardly any wear, and nothing glitched. The caff machine whirred and bubbled before him, filling the room with a pleasant aroma as it managed to muffle the sounds of Eden and Kreia having it out in the next room. Aside from the amenities, Atton was thankful the kitchen had a fully functional door, completely capable of opening and closing, and was not just an open doorway where he could stand awkwardly just out of firing range.

As soon as Kreia mentioned the Ithorians and as soon as Eden’s voice sheathed its edge (a sound Atton knew enough to become familiar with now) he knew to make a quiet exit and retreat to the adjoining room. The last thing he needed was to be dragged into an argument with two people he hardly knew, let alone two people he hardly wanted to associate with regardless of their current circumstances. Instead of focusing on the task at hand, one or both of them always managed to bring the Jedi or training or any other related word into the mess of things. Eden seemed reluctant, but willing, though more annoyed than eager when it came to whatever path the universe seemed to lay before her – and Kreia was guiding her down it, not-so-gently prodding her along the way. Must be a Jedi thing, he snarled silently, thinking to himself, forever obsessed with their legacy, with masters and students and-

“Hey, you busy?”

Atton jumped in the slightest at the sudden sound of Eden’s voice at his back, the sliding door still so new, and so hardly used, that it barely made a sound as the woman slid it open without his knowing. He almost felt like he belonged in an infomercial, the kind that ruled holovid channels in the wee hours of the morning, only he was at a loss for words instead of prattling on about how amazingly well the product worked. Even Eden was impressed, gently sliding the door back and forth while she waited for Atton to answer, or perhaps she was trying not to appear too eager for his reply.

“I was-“ Atton pointed dumbly at the counter. “The caff.”

Eden watched him blankly before bringing her attention to the humming machine at the other end of his extended index finger.

“Oh, right,” she said, though she made no motion to leave. In the distance, Atton heard the door to the adjoining room open then slide closed. Kreia appeared to excuse herself, too, only Eden apparently wanted company where Kreia wanted none of it.

“Why, everything okay in there?” Atton asked, regretting it as soon as the question crossed his lips.

“Yeah, peachy,” Eden said almost too seriously, but not quite sarcastic, almost as if she did not have the emotional energy to express herself otherwise, “How do you feel about going shopping?”

“Shopping?” Atton asked, grabbing a canteen from the cupboard, already preparing for an outing. "With what credits?"

"Well," Eden began, sheepishly, "I was hoping..."

She didn't finish.

Atton stood there, caff carafe in one hand and a canteen in the other. With no response, he could only gesture vaguely.

"Yeah?"

Eden scratched the back of her head, avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah, you see, that's sorta the thing."

Atton tried ignoring her, going about pouring his caff despite the clear source of frustration behind him, failing to string a sentence together.

"That thing being...?"

Atton felt like his mother for a moment, trying to go about her sorry excuse for a life, filling their meager hearth with kindling or stirring a pot of stew over their primitive fire while Atton scrounged for words that told her his father had lost too many bets or hadn’t drunk enough wine to give him the winnings he did earn so they could eat this week. He blanched, heat rising to his face just as he felt it drain of color, but the warmth of the caff kept him on his toes and appearing just as annoyed as he needed to right now, regardless of what Eden meant to say.

"I was hoping you might be game enough to gamble for some credits?"

She bit her lip, leaning in the doorway, making a point to stare at a corner of the kitchen just off to the side of Atton's expectant frame.

"Gamble..." he said, flatly, wanting to laugh at himself for thinking of his father. The liar. The cheat. The thief.

Eden shrugged, doing her best to appear nonchalant.

"You've mentioned Pazaak in passing enough times, I figured it was more than just a figure of speech.”

Atton chewed on the inside of his lip, wishing he hadn’t thought of his mother and wishing Eden hadn’t asked what she just did. Any other day, he’d be game - but right now? At this very moment? Well, this is awkward.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume,” she said, shoulders slouching as she slunk from the door frame, disappearing into the other room.

It’s not like she knows, he thought. And it’s not like I haven’t done it before.

Atton sighed and took a swig of caff wishing it were juma. It trailed its way down his throat, a gritty sludge that was hard to swallow. At least Peragus gave us better food.

“Wait,” he said, twisting a cap onto the canteen as he exited the kitchenette after her.

“I actually am good at Pazaak,” he said, almost feeling pathetic as he gained on her, now in the hall. Eden’s eyes were wide as she spun around to meet him again, though perhaps more at the fact that Atton had followed her so urgently and not that he may be good at Pazaak, “If it’s our only shot at getting anything good around here then-”

He whispered now, looking about the hall as if Kreia might appear at the slightest sound, “We could check out a table, or three,”

Atton was falling into step now, dissolving into an old self, pre-Peragus, before his debts were large enough to bury him and convince him that signing his life away was the only way out. Well, maybe one of two ways…

Eden eyed him unsurely now. If she was hesitant before, she was even more so now, but likely for the sudden change of heart and the downright suspicious way Atton was going about it. His father hated it when he did this, pulling at his heartstrings, knowing he and his mother needed to eat if he wanted them to stay quiet, when really Atton just wanted to feel useful, to feel smart, to work the numbers and -

“Alright, alright,” Eden coaxed, raising a hand, almost to steady his chest though her reach never quite got that far, “But before we secure ourselves a table we need something to barter with first, right?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, her expression slipping into something more mischievous.

“Anything catch your eye that you think the TSF won’t miss?”

Atton was fairly good at reading people, but Eden was one of the most confounding people he’d ever met. Already a far cry from the grumpy amnesiac he’d met on Peragus, Eden was moments ago an arbiter for the good of humanity or whatever it was that the Ithorians were selling, and now she was eager to fence something from their arrest appointed quarters - which would certainly get them arrested even after their names were cleared. Her energy was always changing, multi-faceted and versatile, and yet… he still couldn’t pin her down. She knew well enough of the Jedi, having been one, but she was just as quick to call them out on their hypocrisy while still spewing cryptic philosophy alongside Kreia. And yet here she was, itching for a game of Pazaak to buy… what exactly? Supplies? New clothes? Weapons? He was almost afraid to ask.

“Well, there’s the caff brewer for starters,” Atton said, taking a swig from the canteen still warm in his hand, “But the thing’s maybe, I don’t know, at least ten years old so the most we’d be able to do is donate it.”

“Really? Seems new to me,” Eden said. “But then again, I wouldn’t really know. Most everything on Tatooine was junk, so anything clean could turn a pretty credit.”

Atton furrowed a brow but held his tongue, unsure of whether Eden was joking or not, or at least just being lighthearted about what was likely the truth. Eden had alluded to her exile enough but he wasn’t quite ready for the explanation that might follow if he asked her to elaborate.

“Nothing here is worth selling, if you’re wondering,” he replied instead after quickly sweeping what he could of the apartment from their new spot by the front door as he took another sip of caff, reveling in the warmth that spread through him as he swallowed - almost like juma, but not quite. “Most everything in here is outdated, but not in bad shape. Now if we could find something vintage, then we’d be talking.”

“How much do you think Kreia’d fetch us?” Eden asked almost instantly, adopting an air of mock severity.

Atton laughed - no, guffawed - almost spitting out his drink.

“I don’t think gamblers are in the market for fossils,” he came back with, doing his best to keep the spittle from his every syllable, “But I like where your head’s at.”

Eden smiled now, really smiled. Almost as brightly as she did when she found that Echani staff on the derelict Harbinger, a life’s worth of muscle memory returning to her waking limbs, bits of an old self trickling back as she sparred with no one in the armory with only Atton to watch. But now she was earnest, proud to have made him laugh, and Atton was only more endeared by it. His face suddenly felt hot, and he knew it wasn’t from the caff still held aloft in his hand.

Eden laughed lightly, if not just to fill the silence but maybe to quell whatever uncertainty she left in Kreia’s wake. The witch was still quietly stewing on the other end of the apartment, Atton could tell, but there was no knowing what the old woman could hear or just know otherwise.

“What’s all this about though?” Atton asked, careful to keep his tone even and non-judgmental, but not appear too nonchalant, lest he care too much. “Last I heard the Ithorians don’t need blasters to grow plants and what have you.”

“A blaster would be nice,” Eden conceded. “A proper one, mind you,” she added, eyeing the modded blaster at Atton’s hip, “But what I really want are some clothes.”

“Clothes?” Atton balked before the realization could dawn on him. Oh. Right.

Eden shuffled before him, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she tugged at her robes.

“It was the best I could find on the ship that brought us here,” she said, looking down at her sleeve and wiping away some unseen bit of lint, “Better than the mining uniform, but still. They’re not mine, and I sort of made a promise to myself to never wear robes again.”

Atton nodded slowly, fitting the pieces together as she spoke, careful to tread lightly.

“Plus, maybe it’ll stop everyone from calling me Jedi.”

And there it was.

She rolled her eyes, but more so at herself than at Atton or at any hypothetical image of people they’d crossed paths with so far who thought to utter the word in her direction.

“I’m not sure clothes are gonna change much, but I’m sure it’ll help some,” he offered, “No offense, but you do carry yourself like a Jedi.”

Eden cocked her head, as if in question, though no such thing exited her mouth. Atton still found himself floundering to explain nonetheless.

“You may not be in the Outer Rim anymore, sister, but you’ll find veterans anywhere you go here in Republic Space. Much as they  would like to forget, most people still know a Jedi when they see one.”

Eden frowned in thought for a moment, her eyes growing distant before a faint smile crossed her lips, fast becoming a shadow of itself in a smirk as she looked pointedly at Atton.

“Is that what you see? A Jedi?”

Atton paused, his eyes unfocused, still lingering somewhere unremarkable in the room beyond as he struggled to not only find an answer but to maybe answer her honestly. He at least owed the woman that much.

“Well… yes,” he said finally, his gaze falling on her as he watched her expression, watching and waiting for him to elaborate, or maybe just to finish, “And no.”

Atton wanted to attribute the heat rising in his throat to the caff but he knew better than to fool himself, as much as he wished otherwise. He shouldered his jacket off and tossed it coolly onto a hook beside them, right by the door, thankful for the instant weight lifted despite the comfort it usually granted him.

“You carry yourself like a soldier,” he said, “You don’t make eye contact often, but when you do it’s with purpose, and you make your purpose known. You’re always ready, always in form or at attention, or at least just one step away from it. But your movements are too fluid be infantry, and too heavy to be air force. You’re no pilot but you know how to navigate and you’re a little too quick in the reflex department. And by a little too quick, I mean unnaturally quick. But your tongue is sharper than your eyes, and I think if anything, once someone hears your sense of humor any suspicions of you being a Jedi go out the window.”

This was all from a few days’ worth of observations, a week tops if he counted Peragus, and Atton was both pleased with himself and suddenly afraid he’d said too much - no, he knew he’d said too much.

Eden’s eyes narrowed, though the smirk still played on her face, and she nodded slowly as she soaked his words in.

“Impressive,” she said finally, her voice low and contemplative with a trace of touched interest, “Most impressive.”

Atton could only take another sip of caff, if not to guarantee his stupid mouth wouldn’t say anything else in the interim.

“Wouldn’t expect a flyboy to be an expert at reading people,” she said again through her smirk, looking as if she may say something else but if she intended to, she refrained.

“Wouldn’t expect a Jedi to want to gamble. Former or otherwise,” Atton quipped, gesturing the canteen at Eden as if in cheers, “Looks like we’re both full of surprises.”

At this, he shot Eden a smirk to match her own, and finally set the canteen down, having already finished his caff before even stepping foot out of the door.

“So, are we itching to steal something? Swindle someone? Sweet talk another?” Atton asked, releasing the air pressure on the door. “Where we headed?”

Eden shook her head, her arms crossed though she wasn’t guarded, at least not as much as she had been on Peragus. Something played across her face - uncertainty, fear, discomfort, Atton wasn’t sure - but whatever it was, it dissolved the moment the apartment door officially separated them from Kreia, still stewing on the other side, quiet and isolated now, alone in the apartment at last. It was just the two of them now - Eden and Atton - as it had been when he’d first met her. Something had changed since then, though he wasn’t quite sure what.

Or perhaps, he did know, and he just didn’t want to give it credence… so instead he followed in the ex-Jedi’s wake, ever-ready to eagerly accompany her wherever she happened to wander next... at least for now.

[jestbee]

Fic: It’s part of my chemistry, this jealousy

words: 2370 Tags: jealous!Dan, inspired by a tweet, Christmas tree delivery guy, fluff, angst if you squint, mostly just Dan being ridiculous, but also Phil did arrange for a guy in a kilt to come to their house when he was home alone so...

Author’s Note: So turns out the delivery option from the place Phil ordered the tree from with the kilted delivery guy also makes you pick a date and time, so he purposely chose a day when Dan was out at that talk and... 

Well the short thing is that this is entirely @charlottekath and @ineverhadmyinternetphase fault because they chanted Jealous Dan in our gc and I caved. I should be working on my actual novel and here I am writing more Jealous!Dan fic. I am weak. 

Enjoy ladies, you asked for it.

Fic under the cut

[AO3 Link]

"I ordered the tree," Phil says over breakfast.

"Ordered it?"

"Yeah." Phil sips coffee and acts like that isn't a strange thing to say.

"From…?"

Phil looks up from his laptop, perched on the edge of the dining table. They've tried to ban electronics during meals in the interest of being fully functioning adults but somehow they keep slipping.

Phil takes hold of the laptop by the screen and flips it around to face him.

"Here. It's coming on Tuesday."

Phil stands up from the table, takes his cereal bowl with him and Dan glances down at the screen.

It takes him all of two seconds to see the problem.

"A fucking kilted delivery guy?" Dan yells, following Phil into the kitchenette.

Phil shrugs, "It was the only option."

"Sure."

Phil grins and turns around to rinse his bowl.

"Phil."

He does not turn around.

"Phil, I'm being serious, what the hell? You picked Tuesday as the delivery date?"

"Shouldn't I have?"

Phil has that irritating tone in his voice where he knows exactly what Dan is getting at but he's going to make him work for it, going to make Dan say all the petulant immature things in his head right now. Just to hear how ridiculous they sound out loud.

"You know that's the night I'm at that talk thing."

"Oh," Phil says, an air of forced nonchalance in him as he turns around, wiping his hands on a tea towel. "Yeah, I guess it is."

"Well?"

"Sorry?" Phil says, "I didn't realise you were that invested in seeing the tree delivered. I'll wait for you to decorate it if you like?"

There's a tiny smirk at the corner of Phil's mouth. If Dan didn't know Phil so well he might never have seen it. But it's there.

"Don't bother." He says, turning away.

"Okay," Phil shrugs, "I won't."

Dan knows Phil is being a troll. He knows he's purposely winding him up. It's exactly why Phil had mentioned it at breakfast and then turned the screen to let him see for himself. He likes it when the flush rises in Dan's face just a little bit and he fights to suppress his jealous tendencies.

Dan won't give him the satisfaction and leaves the room instead, the faint echo of Phil's laughter following him down the stairs.

-

He really does try not to dwell on it. It's ridiculous of him to start feeling that stab of jealously in the pitt of his stomach at the thought of some muscled stranger in a kilt coming to their apartment while he's out. He's probably bring the tree in alone, big arms straining under the weight as Phil stands and watches, helpless while this capable and manly specimen enters their home to erect a tree.

He'll place it in the spot in their living room they've designated for it and Phil will stand and direct him to turn it this way and that. The man will oblige, catching Phil's eye as they find the perfect angle and Phil will look at both him and the tree appreciatively.

Phil will probably offer him a drink. He's a nice guy, and this person is a guest in their home. The man will look about, seeing whether this lithe and pretty Phil has a significant other anywhere to be found and, finding no one is there, accept Phil's offer of a drink without hesitation--Dan needs to stop his mind wandering.

He can't help himself before he's googling the place Phil bought the tree from on his own laptop. Hunting around to see if he can find pictures of the burly delivery men. Just to put his mind at rest that they aren't some sort of aggressive adonis come to steal his boyfriend.

They have an instagram. Which is something dan wishes he hadn't found out.

There are half-naked photos of buff men stood by aesthetic trees and Dan wants to vomit.

This cannot be happening.

Just stop looking, he tells himself. Just close the website and stop all of this madness, it can't possibly be as bad as it seems.

-

Phil mentions the delivery a few times over the next couple of days and Dan tries not to give him the satisfaction of seeing the scowl on his face. He also tries not to let his mind run with what happens after Phil offers the guy a cup of coffee, but that is less successful.

-

When tuesday rolls around and he's headed to the talk, he hovers by the front door unable to make himself leave without some sort of conversation about it. Surprisingly, Phil does stop him for a quick hug without Dan needs to request it.

"You're going to be great," he says, mistaking Dan's reluctance to go with nerves.

"Yeah," Dan says, "I know."

"And when you get back we'll have a tree!"

Dan purses his lips, pouting slightly. "Yep." his voice is curt, clipped in a kind of pointed way Phil seems to miss.

"What time… um, will you be back?"

Dan narrows his eyes, "why?"

Phil looks away, "No reason just… you know, so I know when to expect you."

"I dunno," he says, "not late."

"Okay. Have fun."

Phil kisses him once and ushers him out of the door.

-

Dan coasts through the talk. He's not saying anything he hasn't already, it's mostly all practised already and he's posed for photos so many times at this point that he can do it on auto pilot. His mind drifts as he tries to recreate his poster so that he misses it by a mile, but his eyes don't come out too full of rage so he counts it as a win.

In his head the scene picks up. The delivery guy, clad in a kilt and now shirtless- because his mind likes to imagine the worst possible scenario- is following Phil into the kitchen, his eyes hungry as he looks him up and down.

"So you live here alone?" the guy will say.

Phil will smile. That thousand kilowatt smile he has, the one he saves for Dan usually but this guy is all of his captain America, manly man dreams rolled into an actual human being stood in his kitchen so how can he help himself?

Maybe he'll forget Dan entirely for a moment, stunned by this stranger's physicality so much that he finds himself stammering "Yes- er, no. I mean, I have a housemate."

They stick to the neutral terminology of course. The last thing they need is a story on the internet of a delivery guy who came to Dan and Phil's apartment and was told they were dating. But the neutrality of the term grates on Dan right now and he wants to rush home, stand between them and show this intruder exactly what Phil is to him.

It's kind of primal, the urge to stake a claim, to disallow anyone else to imagine they have a chance at all in getting close to his one and only. It's wrong of him, he knows, to want to own Phil in that way, but it's a thought he can't control.

Like he can't control the barrage of more images floating into his mind.

At that moment his phone buzzes in his pocket with the notification that Phil has tweeted. He's tweeting about the fucking delivery man. He's clearly excited about it and Dan feels a little queasy.

He switches to the messaging app and sends one to Phil, just to prove that he's being silly, that everything is perfectly fine.

To Phil: Telling the whole world about your sexy delivery guy is a little creepy.

Dan stares at him phone just long enough to seem creepy himself and reluctantly puts it back in his pocket without a response when Caspar wanders over to see what he's doing.

"You alright bro?" Caspar says.

"Yeah," Dan answers, probably a little too quickly. "I'm cool. Just… texting Phil."

Caspar gives him a look. He's used to that look, it's the one that says 'I know, and I know you know that I know, but we won't talk about it'.

"How is he?"

"He's… fine."

His voice comes out a little bitter.

"Does that have anything to do with the tweet he just posted?"

"What?" Dan says, "No, what the hell?"

"It's fine, mate. I get it."

Caspar pulls his phone out of his pocket. "I'm going to post that picture and show him we're having a good time too."

"There's no need for that," Dan insists with a little choked off laugh, "you're being ridiculous."

"Sure," Caspar says, but he posts the photo.

-

Phil still doesn't text back later, when Dan is stood near the tiny buffet table they've set out backstage. They have mince pies and Dan is tempted to take one home for Phil, to add to the codex, if he can figure out which brand they're using.

He almost asks the woman overseeing the table and then remembers that he's kind of pissed off with Phil right now, so he doesn't. Phil, who at this very moment is probably pressed up against the kitchen counter by some invasive bodybuilding tree deliveryman. He doesn't deserve mince pies.

-

He doesn't answer his phone later either.

Dan tries him a few times but Phil doesn't pick up which is really not like him at all.

"Do you need to get back?" Joe asks him, noting what must be an anxious look on his face.

"No… It's fine."

"Go," he says, "We're done here anyway."

"Okay," Dan agrees, "thanks."

-

Dan gets home earlier than he thought. The traffic had been in his favour and his uber driver was a little reckless but he isn't exactly complaining tonight.

The reckless daydreams of Phil pressed up close to a stranger's body is still there. Growing more and more vivid and dirty the closer he gets to home and by the time he arrives he's worked himself into a complete state with the idea. He's almost certain he's going to find all of his worst nightmares playing out before him when he gets back to the apartment.

He's comes through the door a little quicker than he intends and all at once he's pricking his ears for the sounds of swishing kilts. He doesn't really know what that would sound like but he's certain he'd recognise it if he did.

There is eerie quiet, except for a rapid-fire scramble from the other room, upstairs, above his head.

"Phil?" he calls.

"Dan? Don't come in here!"

What the hell? Dan instantly feels his stomach twist.

"Why not?"  He flings his jacket off and  bounds up the stairs. "I swear to god Phil if you have that scottish prick up there I am going to--"

He reaches the top and instantly comes to a stop, one foot still on the stair below.

Their living room is dark except for the soft glow of fairy lights. The tree sits in the designated spot, lights twinkling slowly on and off. It's bigger than their old one, with black silver and white decorations they picked out the other week to match the decor of their flat. There are already a few presents beneath it and a star sits at the top, light glinting off the sparkle of it.

Phil is stood beside the fragrant branches, bathed in the warm white light, bouncing off the curves of his cheekbones and the plush of his mouth. He's wearing pyjamas and his glasses and he looks soft and warm and like home. He's familiar and comforting and it takes Dan's breath away.

"What--?"

"Damn," Phil says, "I wanted it to be done by the time you got home. I didn't even have time to put the stockings up."

"What is all this?"

Phil moves closer in the dim light and Dan can't help they way his arms come up to pull him close.

"I wanted to have everything decorated for when you got in, make it into a christmassy wonderland…" He huffs a bit of a laugh, "did you say Scottish prick?"

Dan feels ridiculous looking at Phil in the glow of the christmas lights. Of course Phil wouldn't… he really is beautiful though. He could. If he wanted.

"It's stupid," he confesses, "you know what I'm like. I thought… the kilt guy…"

Phil laughs really loudly and gathers Dan close.

"Were we doing it under the tree?" Phil asks, running a hand down Dan's spine.

"Ew, No."

Although now Phil mentions it… his mind throws up those images as well.

"Ugh." he buries his head into Phils chest and fists a hand into his shirt at the dip of his waist. "Now I'm imagining it."

"You're ridiculous."

Phil's hand comes up cradle his cheek, tipping Dan's head up to look at him.

"It was the kitchen," Dan mumbles.

"Oh," Phil looks over Dan's shoulder at the kitchenette across the way. "You have that wrong for so many reasons."

"I do?"

Phil nods and kisses him softly, just once. He's so warm, more so in the cosiness of their flat and the soft haze of festivity.

"I don't want to have sex with anyone but you in the kitchen, Dan."

Dan smiles and kisses him back, "I know. I know that really. It's just… ah, you know I can't help it sometimes, it's just how I am. A little ridiculous, when it comes to you."

"I know." Phil runs his hands down Dan's back and dips under the hem of his shirt, "But you have nothing to worry about. I'm ridiculous about you too. I love you. Just you."

"I love you too."

Dan feels Phil's hands on his skin and shivers.

"Is it out of your system now?" Phil asks, "You don't have to bend me over a counter in there or something to stake your claim?"

Dan chuckles and relaxes into Phil's touch. "Freak out officially over," he confirms.

"Good," Phil says, lifting Dan's shirt over his head. "the tree part of my fantasy is much better."

"Yeah?" Dan says, catching Phil's meaning and raising an eyebrow.

"Hmmm," Phil hums, stroking a curl off Dan's forehead. "Allow me to demonstrate."

[siorca]

coswave adjusting to domestic life on Sanctuary Station

Soundwave is half asleep at the counter. His senses are dulled, which, in all honestly, only brings his focus down to that of an average mech. He’s never been one for complete exhaustion; he has trained his body to live off of the bare minimum of sleep - a necessity growing up on the streets and the only means of survival during the war. But now, he feels it, seeping into his higher functions and making everything feel slow. Perhaps peacetime had softened him, and that thought only makes him secretly mourn a previous life where his daily motions kept exhaustion from catching up to him.Through his muzzy haze, he can faintly make out the shape of Cosmos, looking much more alert than Soundwave. He bounces around the kitchenette with the sort of ease that would trick an unknowing observer that they’d been together for years instead of a few weeks. Soundwave feels a sharp stab of affection, and he almost smiles behind his mask, until an undercurrent of jealousy makes his frame collapse into itself.Cosmos must have seen the action through his bustling because he turns to Soundwave with a quizzical look. He looks as if he might say something, before thinking better of it. His visor lights up in a soft glow and Soundwave takes a minute to admire how the light plays off of his features. He holds up a hand in a placating gesture, turning back to the energon dispenser on the counter. A soft hum comes from him as he works, pulling a cube from the cabinet below and filling it up with the precious liquid. Soundwave is reminded of how hungry he is and he tries not to leer too much.With a full cup, precariously sloshing around the edges, Cosmos shuffles over to the heating station. A blue flame expands from the center of the platelet and as Cosmos carefully holds the cube over the edges of the flame, it illuminates in a harsh yellow light. Energon is combustible by its very nature, but the flame itself is gentle on the substance. There’s a science to this delicate balance, but Soundwave is too tired to really think about it.Cosmos hovers over the heat for only a few seconds before presenting Soundwave with the now steaming cup. If he could, he would grin. For now, he settles for a cheerily contented hum, sprinkling in some rust flakes that quickly melt on top. Soundwave watches the brown mix into the bright pink, transforming the energon into a rich purple. He makes his own contented hum, a servo coming out to wrap around the blessedly warm glass. His mask snicks open with a quickness that the rest of his body was lacking, making a sharp sound in the otherwise quiet living quarters. He can feel Cosmos’ gaping gaze tracing his face, and he’s momentarily amused that for all their time spent together, Cosmos still found it such a novelty. Soundwave takes a small sip. Warmth seeps into his frame, electric and wonderful. He takes a few more drags, his systems becoming more alert. His higher functions are the last to come fully online. He’s almost done with the cube before he feels conscious enough to express his gratitude.“Thank you, Cosmos.” Fuzz enters his voice, rich in love. He passes the cube back to Cosmos, who clutches it in his servos with an excited light in his visor.“No problem! Warm energon always makes me feel better!” Cosmos says cheerily. He tosses the cube into a recycling bin, turning around to make his own fuel. It’s simple for him, plain energon. He cozies up to Soundwave on the chair next to him when he’s finished. Soundwave pulls him close and tries to pretend for a moment that he doesn’t have any responsibilities for the day.

[jarienn972]

Only a Little Superstitious - Chapter Two

Finally had a moment to get the second chapter of this WIP uploaded to Tumblr.  This story has taken a backseat to my other WIP, The Right Place, but I promise to update as time permits.

 @killian-whump , hope you enjoy this next installment! 

Chapter One on Tumblr

Also on AO3 and FF.net

She'd expected their trek to be difficult as they made their way toward the trail, but as Killian grew weaker from blood loss, she did find herself nearly carrying him at times. They had been walking for at least thirty minutes but they'd almost reached the end of the trail. As they descended, the trail zigzagged through denser brush, finally opening into a valley where Emma could now see a gravel parking lot and a small log sided structure. Already hearing rumblings of thunder off in the distance, she urged her husband to keep heading toward that building certain that whatever its purpose was, they could use it to escape the approaching weather. There were no vehicles in the lot so the hope that they might get a ride to town was dashed. Any hikers who had been out here must have hurried back to their cars, scared off by the first signs of the storm. Now she just wanted to focus on reaching the maybe 12 foot square building.

"Come on," she pleaded, fully expecting him to lose consciousness at any moment, but he kept trudging on with minimal complaint. He understood her urgency. "I see a cabin or shack or something up ahead. We just have to make it a little further and we can hopefully wait out the storm there…" He didn't verbalize a response but she could sense him mustering every last bit of energy he had to make it the remaining 500 or so yards.

A raindrop struck her shoulder as they crossed the last barrier – the gravel parking lot and approached the cabin. They could see that the structure had a single door, held closed by a discouraging padlock and two windows – one narrow one next to the door and a smaller one high on the building's western side – neither large enough for a person to crawl through. A length of black coaxial cable connected to the cabin's roof stretched upward to a tall, rustic telephone pole – one of a series that followed a dirt road snaking away from the lot. If they could get inside, the cabin must have electricity or a telephone – or better yet – maybe both.

But first they needed to get inside. If she'd had her trusty lock picks with her, she could have made quick work of this. She certainly wasn't a stranger to breaking and entering – and she doubted Killian was either, but lacking the proper tools, she would have to be far less tactful. She pushed her husband up against the side of the building as she drew her pistol, firing directly at the padlock. Her first bullet missed slightly, ending up in the door frame instead, but her second did enough damage to the mechanism that she was able to knock the padlock off using the butt of her gun like a hammer. The latch popped open once the padlock was removed, granting them access to the interior. She turned the handle and cautiously pushed the door, not expecting the cabin to be inhabited, but uncertain what else might be inside. Not seeing anything immediately concerning, she swung the door fully ajar and ushered Killian in just as a clap of thunder echoed overhead and heavier drops began to fall from the skies. She shoved the door closed behind them, breathing a sigh of relief that they'd made it before the downpour began.

The interior of the cabin was sparsely furnished but it had nearly everything they needed right now. There was a patrician oak desk with a single matching chair up against the wall to their left, positioned just under the window. A large map was spread out across the top held in place with a flat glass or perhaps plexiglass cover. To their right, there was what looked like a small kitchenette with a dormitory sized refrigerator built into a row of cabinets which also housed a small sink and a sliver of counter space. Just beyond the makeshift kitchen was a narrow military style cot which was neatly made and covered a blue and white plaid blanket. At the far side of the single room, there were two doors that based on the apparent difference in size of the interior versus the exterior likely led to some sort of storage space or better yet – maybe a bathroom.

"Let's get you over to that cot so you can lie down before you pass out," Emma insisted, but she had to half drag him across the floor when his legs nearly gave out beneath him. She tugged the blanket off before he collapsed onto the rickety bed with a barely audible whimper. She knew she'd pushed him to his physical limits, but she couldn't have left him behind again. As she helped him lift his feet up, it was obvious that he was scarcely coherent, his skin appearing even more deathly pallid in the cabin's dim light. "Hang on," she implored as he lowered his head onto the pillow. "Let me see what I can find around here. Maybe I can find something to get you patched up."

He nodded as his heavy eyelids drooped closed, but didn't reply. She knew she needed to work quickly so she immediately took visual inventory as she made her way over to the desk where she'd spotted an older touch tone dial telephone much like the one on her desk back in Storybrooke and a single metal base lamp with a pull chain. A brief tug on the chain revealed that the cabin did indeed have electricity, but when she picked up the telephone receiver and brought it to her ear, there was no dial tone. It may have been due to the storm outside so she made a mental note to check again later but then her attention was momentarily drawn to the map laid out before her with the words Tonto National Forest printed in bright red ink across the top of the image. The map reflected a series of roads, hiking trails and what must have been landmarks or maybe even towns?

Tonto National Forest? Why did that sound so familiar?

She didn't waste time dwelling on the map though as her first priority remained aiding her husband. She hustled to the microscopic kitchenette, throwing open cupboards hastily to find most of them unfortunately bare. There were a couple of dishes and utensils inside one of the cabinets so evidently this wasn't a regularly visited structure but she was happy that it at least showed signs of recent habitation. Pulling open the refrigerator door, she was elated to find a stockpile of bottled water – an absolute blessing after their stressful trek down the trail. She removed three bottles and checked to see if there was anything else hiding behind the water, but there was nothing else to be found inside, quashing her hopes there might be some sort of food. At least they had drinkable water. Dehydration was far more dangerous than hunger.

She deposited the bottles atop the blanket at Killian's feet then headed to explore the last remaining section of the cabin – the two doors opposite the entrance. The door closest to the corner was merely a closet containing a single broom and dustpan so she moved on to the next one. This one opened to a more promising little room that was part bathroom, part store room. There was a metal sink with a single knob on the faucet – likely just cold water - and a toilet that didn't have a tank attached. Probably more of an outhouse type than a functioning flush toilet, but she wasn't curious enough to investigate just yet. To the left of the door were a series of wire shelves which like the cabinets in the kitchenette were mostly empty, but there were some items she definitely could utilize. There was a stack of four or five thin cotton hand towels in various neutral colors, a couple of bars of generic soap, one full sized ivory bath towel, a roll of paper towels and the most valuable item – a first aid kit resting on the bottom shelf.

Collecting the first aid kit and a fistful of towels, she hurried back to Killian's side and dropped to her knees beside the cot. She couldn't yet tell if he was asleep or unconscious, but his labored breathing gave her pause as she popped open the latch on the kit and laid it open on the floor so that she could see the contents of both sides. She tossed the towels onto the floor as well, not yet needing them as she glanced through the kit, hurriedly grabbing several individually wrapped packages of alcohol disinfecting wipes, sterile gauze pads and rolled bandages, cloth adhesive tape and even a few single dose packets of pain relievers – all sufficient to temporarily bandage his wound until they could get proper medical treatment.

Her first task was to clean and properly disinfect the injured area properly so she reached for one of the bottles of water she'd left on the cot earlier, uncapped it and then poured a generous amount onto one of the towels.

"Killian – I don't know if you can hear me but I'm going to try to clean away some of the blood so I can bandage this up… It might sting a bit…" He shifted uncomfortably as she pulled back his heavily saturated navy blue shirt and gently started to wipe away both the darkening dried stains and the bright crimson that continued to trickle from the gash just below his bottom rib. He flinched and sucked in a gasp as the chilled water came in contact with his flushed and irritated flesh, but he still didn't say a word. She cleared away as much as she could, leaving the damp towel laying atop his chest while she stretched her arm behind her to grab a dry one from the pile. After swapping the towels, she pressed the dry cloth against the wound momentarily until she could locate a couple of the alcohol swabs. Not wanting to lift the towel until she was ready to disinfect the wound, she held the packet in her right hand and tore the paper wrapping with her teeth then repeated the process with a second. She took the first moistened wipe and used it to sanitize her hands then turned her attention back to him while unwrapping a second. Now this really was going to sting she thought, grimacing as she tenderly raised the towel and touched the rubbing alcohol soaked cloth to his skin.

His eyes flew open and he nearly pitched upright with sudden shock, hissing in protest to the burn of the disinfectant against his raw skin but not crying out in agony as she'd expected. She could feel the rapid pounding of his heart beneath her hand and ached for him as he took several deep breaths, holding each for a few seconds as he tried to calm himself again. He knew she was doing precisely what needed to be done and in no way was attempting to force additional disquiet upon him, but it was still an immense amount of pain.

"I'm so sorry…," she stammered, once again apologizing for circumstances out of her control. "I'm not really trying to hurt you more…"

"I know…," he sighed through clenched teeth, "but bloody HELL that burns…"

"We're in the middle of nowhere right now so as much as it burns, if it keeps that wound from getting infected, we'll do whatever is necessary to keep it cleaned until we can get you to a hospital." As she finished with the disinfecting wipe, she tossed it to the floor with the discarded items then replaced the towel over the still oozing puncture. "Are you able to hold this here for a second?" she questioned. He replied with a subtle nod, lifting his blood tinged fingers and resting them atop the towel. With both hands free, she tore open two of the largest gauze pads and peeled the seal from the roll of surgical tape. She pulled a long section of tape from the roll, tearing it into multiple strips each about five or six inches long and lined them up along the edge of the cot where she could retrieve them as needed. "Hold still," she instructed, gently pushing his hand aside as she flung the soiled towel onto the floor then gingerly replaced it with the two gauze pads and secured the bandage in place with a total of six strips of tape. "Okay – that's done. Wish I could have found you a clean shirt around here though. This one is completely drenched. Do you want to keep it on or take it off?"

"Whatever you think is best, Love…" Great – of course he would leave the decision to her…

"Okay then… Think you can sit up for a moment?" He responded with a simple aye as she slid her left hand behind his back while taking ahold of his hand with her right to pull his weary body toward her. One he was sitting upright, she worked quickly to help him shed his leather coat wishing she had made him remove it sooner as his cotton shirt below was as drenched with sweat as it was with blood. Once the outer layer was off, his vest was easily shrugged off but she found his shirt a bit more of a challenge to remove as it was stuck to his skin in several places. She peeled it free as tenderly as she could then eased it over his brace and hook, finally tossing all three garments to the foot of the cot once she'd gotten him partially undressed. Before allowing him to lay back down, she dug into the first aid kit again for one of the pain reliever packets and ripped it to free the two ibuprofen tablets inside then retrieved the open bottle of water and brought it to his lips. "Here – take these…" He almost reluctantly opened his mouth as she placed the pills atop his tongue then took a small swig of water to wash them down. She managed to get him to take a few more swallows, but she could sense he was struggling just to keep his head up so she lowered the bottle and allowed him to sink back into the thin mattress. "Get some sleep, Killian," she said as she draped the plaid blanket over him then leaned in to kiss his forehead as his eyelids fell closed again.

She remained kneeling at his side for several minutes until she was certain he was asleep, gathering up all of the trash and bloodied towels before pushing herself up off of the floor and returning to the bathroom. She deposited the towels into the sink basin and dropped the trash into an empty plastic pail that sat beneath the sink. She didn't know if it was intended to be a trash can but it would serve that purpose for now. Turning on the faucet, she let the slightly sulfur smelling water run while she retrieved one of the bars of soap and the rest of the towels from the shelf opposite the sink then returned to start scrubbing both the towels and her own hands as well as she could. She knew she'd never be able to remove all of the stains, but she gave her best effort. Guess they'd owe someone some new towels as well as a new padlock.

Now that her hands were clean again, she leaned over the sink trying to get a better look at the cut on her own face which slashed horizontally across the apple of her cheek, but it wasn't deep. She dabbed at it with a clean towel to clear away the dried blood and decided it wasn't serious enough to need bandaging. She was more concerned about her aching shoulder, but she hadn't dared let her husband know how much it hurt. She'd landed on her right side with her shoulder striking that damned boulder which left behind a large abrasion and a darkening bruise that left the joint already stiffening. She'd just have to take a few of those pain relievers herself.

Once she had completed cleaning things up as best she could, she wrung out the excess water from the towels and hung them to dry on the metal shelving where she'd found them figuring she would likely need them again. Returning to the main room, she checked on Killian sleeping fitfully, shivering slightly beneath the blanket. There weren't any other blankets to be found so she draped her jacket across his chest as the lining on his was still damp with his sweat. She couldn't help but notice the smudged kohl that now only deepened the dark circles around his eyes. It stood out in stark contrast to his pallid skin even in the dim light of the cabin.

She wanted to curl up at his side but doubted the cot could support their combined weight so she made her way over to the desk and dropped onto the wooden chair. It wasn't the most comfortable seat but after the morning they'd endured, she was grateful for a place to sit that wasn't a patch of dirt or a slab of stone. She once again lifted the receiver of the telephone but unsurprisingly, there was still no dial tone. The storm they'd barely dodged was raging outside, heavy drops pounding against the window and the apparently metal roof. The desk lamp flickered a few times as the wind howled and whipped the cables around outside, but Emma had little concern over losing power as long as the cabin stayed dry.

She found herself once again drawn to the map covering the surface of the desk. She had time to study it now, seeking out the details that might reveal their location once they were able to call for help. Tonto National Forest she read again, the words echoing through her subconscious with an eerie familiarity. But why? She shook it off for now as her mind raced, preoccupied with replaying the morning's events – trying to make sense of it all. It had been a blur of activity leading them here – wherever here was – and now she had time to think about all that had put them in their current predicament.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Would like to see some domestic fluff + mpreg + a tiff between the two love birds, with a happy ending of course!

Tony looked up from designing Bucky’s new armor and smiled at his husband.

Bucky was currently in Upavistha Konasana as he did yoga and listened to music on his mp3 player. He wasn’t even fully through his first trimester, but Bucky was determined to keep up his health and exercise regime while pregnant, and so he’d started taking prenatal yoga classes a few weeks ago. He was still punching and kicking bags of sand, but he had taken some of the more intense elements of his workout.

He was also still allowed on missions (after giving Steve an earful when he his best friend had panicked about the baby’s safety). He wouldn’t officially be off the roster until the start of his third trimester.

“Need anything, love of my life?” Tony teased as he crossed his workshop to the small kitchenette located in the corner. Bucky had insisted on doing his yoga in Tony’s workshop. He’d claimed he found the place calming, and he liked having Tony nearby as he exercised. Since Bucky was carrying Tony’s child, Tony hadn’t argued with his husband. Instead he cleared a space, and made sure anything that could possibly be dangerous to Bucky or the baby was placed far away.

Bucky came up from his pose and took a couple of breaths. He popped his earbuds out and tucked the buds inside the neck of his shirt.  “Doing good.”

Tony opened the fridge and pulled out one of his green health shakes. He grabbed a straw from the drawer and plopped the straw into his beverage. “You sure? I can get you water or one of those protein bars.”

Tony took a long sip of his drink.

Bucky wrinkled his nose. He sniffed.

Bucky gagged and covered his mouth and nose. “That’s disgusting!”

(Look out for the cut, mobile users!)

Tony’s brain stopped functioning for a moment as it switched from “love mode” to “solve it now mode.”

Tony glimpsed around the room, trying to figure out what had set off Bucky’s reaction. His gaze drifted down to the shake in his hand.

“You can smell my drink all the way from over there?”

“Super Soldier plus pregnant,” Bucky stated as explanation. Bucky’s voice came out nasally as he pinched his nose. Tears formed in his eyes. “It’s always smelled weird, but it’s terrible now. Get it away from me.”

“DUM-E.” Tony whistled for the bot. “Garbage chute this for me.”

With a happy chirp, DUM-E rolled over to Tony and took the cup. The bot started to roll in Bucky’s direction to get to the chute, but Tony quickly stepped into the bot’s path. “Nuh-uh. That route.” Tony pointed toward the wall farthest from Bucky where there was a clear path DUM-E could use.

DUM-E made a dejected sound and dropped its claw, but did as instructed.

“I’ll give you something to use the fire extinguisher on later,” Tony hollered after DUM-E.

DUM-E perked up immediately and raced off to the garbage chute, delightedly beeping the whole way.

“You don’t get to spoil our kid like that,” Bucky grumbled, his hand still on his nose.

“Spoil?” Tony quirked an eyebrow. He waltzed over to his husband and kneeled in front of him. “I hardly call that spoiling. In fact, you know what it is really called? Positive Reinforcement.”

Bucky glared at Tony, which was a hilarious sight since Bucky still refused to stop pinching his nose.

“Honey,” laughter tinged Tony’s voice, “DUM-E has to have dumped the shake in the chute by now. You can unplug your nose.”

Bucky shook his head and scowled. His eyes flew to Tony’s mouth. “Your breath.”

“I took one sip!” Tony protested.

“It was enough,” Bucky said dryly.

Tony pouted. “So if I asked you for a kiss right now you wouldn’t give it to me?”

Bucky pretended to gag.

“Rude,” Tony quipped.

“I would kiss Steve’s ass before I’d kiss your mouth.”

Tony frowned. “Why Steve’s? You could kiss mine.”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

Tony grasped Bucky’s knees. He leaned into Bucky and batted his eyelashes. “Please? Just for me?”

Bucky glared.

“I love you. Don’t you love me?”

“That’s a dirty trick, Tony.” Bucky begrudgingly uncovered his nose and pressed a chaste kiss to Tony’s lips. He tucked his fingers under Tony’s chin as he had Tony look him in the eye. “You’re lucky I do love you or else I would have smacked your ass for that question.”

Tony cocked his head. “Well, I mean… I have nothing against you slapping my ass, Bucky, so I really don’t see the problem with either scenario other than you not loving me in one.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and kissed Tony again.

Bucky’s body shuddered and he flung himself away from Tony as he made gagging sounds.

“Bucky!” Tony crouched over Bucky and rubbed his back. “Do you need anything?”

Bucky swatted him away. “Just take a breath mint already. Jesus! I’m-” Bucky made another gagging sound and covered his mouth. “I’m going to puke if you don’t.”

Tony nodded and raced off to his desk were he kept spearmint gum. He fumbled with the drawer in his rush and almost dropped the stick while unwrapping it, but he got the gum in his mouth. He chewed it for five seconds then grabbed a trash can and plopped the bin in front of Bucky.

Bucky had stopped looking like he was going to lose his guts at any moment and sat up. Nonetheless, he hugged the trash can Tony provided.

A lump caught in Tony’s throat as he pushed a loose strand of hair out of Bucky’s face. Bucky was horribly pale. “I’m sorry.”

“Aw, doll.” Bucky grabbed Tony’s hand and held it. “I don’t blame you. It’s the pregnancy. I love you. I just can’t stand that sludge you call a health shake.”

“Promise I won’t make it again.”

“You can make it, just don’t bring it anywhere near me and be sure to brush your teeth afterwards.”

Tony nodded. “Deal.” He leaned in to kiss Bucky, but stopped short. “Probably better not to risk it? The gum can only hide the taste and smell so much.”

Bucky grinned and kissed Tony on the cheek. “That’s my fella. Sweetest guy in the world.”

Heat rose to Tony’s cheeks. “Stop it. You’re making me want to kiss you.”

“But I love you, Tony.”

Tony scowled. “You’re a troll.”

Bucky squeezed Tony’s hand. “But I’m you’re troll.”

[janetchavezcom]

Best Pop Up Campers Our Top 5

Pop up campers are incredibly popular now, people are choosing pop-up campers over the pricey motorhomes for practical reasons, they’re just more affordable.  A pop-up camper is a foldable mobile tent which is easy to put up yet is also very easy to tow.  Of course, cheap doesn’t necessarily mean good.  If you end up buying a less than capable pop-up camper, chances are you’ll end up needing to buy another, negating any savings you may have made. It’s worth getting the best pop up camper from the outset.

However, you’re in luck, a good pop-up camper may need not be as expensive as you think.  It can be complicated though, because there are so many camper models available, each one promising to meet, if not, exceed your expectations.  To help make your buying decision easier, I’ve compiled a list of the best pop up campers available to buy on the market today.

But before we get into the details, I’m assuming you would want to get to know more about the humble yet ubiquitous pop-up camper if you’re buying it for the first time. Or maybe you’re just someone that wants to get reacquainted with this affordable RV. In which case, the next section is for you.

Each one of us has their preferences, notwithstanding budget, so let’s begin with the most important factors to consider in a pop-up camper, as well as what are some of the questions you should answer before making your purchase.

FUNCTION

If you’re fortunate enough to head out on an adventure filled journeys, ending up in exotic locales all over the country, then you might take some comfort in being able to hunker down in comfortable and familiar surroundings.  A pop-up camper can meet these needs perfectly, but there are a couple of aspects you may need to consider.

How many persons can sleep inside the pop-up camper?  Some campers can accommodate two to eight sleepers at a time. If you max the sleeping capacity, it can certainly be cozy, but that’s the price you’ll pay.

How much can you store inside? Length varies from ten feet up to as much eighteen feet and up to fourteen-floor plans for some models.  A reasonable amount of storage should be enough to keep your things organized.

Is it easy to tow using my car?  Pop-up campers are lightweight in general, so it is compatible with virtually any type of four-wheeled vehicle, especially those with limited towing capacity.  As pop-up campers are generally lightweight, the fuel economy of the vehicle is unlikely to be significantly impacted.  The low profile also means rear visibility is decent.

AMENITIES

This is where a trailer can up the ante over a normal tent- the creature comforts and features can be very attractive to a buyer.  After all, a pop-up camper will be your home away from home, if not your only home so it’s got to have the bells and whistles, and then some.

Does it come with a toilet?  Toilets are not usually available for the smaller models for obvious reasons.  For those that can accommodate one, it’s common to have a wet bathroom facility.  It’s like the bathrooms you will find in trains.  The shower head is almost directly above a waterproofed toilet so expect not only to clean yourself when taking a shower, but the entire room is likely to get wet. If you don’t like the extra hassle, there are even a few that have a separate shower and toilets.  Again, it’s unlikely that these shower rooms will be very large, but there should be room enough to store shampoos, soaps etc.

Does it have a kitchen and/or a living room?  Ok, let’s keep it real, a kitchenette and a sitting room maybe.  A small outdoor style kitchen can often be found on the side paneling. These may consist of a compact sink and a two to a four-burner stove.  A portable kind can also be placed inside on some models.  Even if you’re only equipped with a two burner stove, it can afford you the luxury of producing a range of homemade meals. Once you’ve been dining on takeaways and fast food for several days, the thought of a freshly made meal can be very appealing.  Additionally, having a sofa can be a great addition to entertain friends or serve as your retreat after a tiring hike in the wilderness.

Can it fit a refrigerator? If your pop-up camper can hold a refrigerator albeit the personal or mini kind, then that’s a big bonus.  When you’re choosing food to take on your camping trip, having the ability to keep frozen items frozen and fresh items cool can make a massive difference to the variety of foods you can take with you.  A cold drink on a hot day can also be a pleasant treat.

Does it come with beds?  Don’t expect a big, fluffy king-sized mattress.  Remember, you’re not staying in a fully-equipped five-star hotel room. It’s a camper, but you can still have a soft bed that is comfortable enough to give you and your family and/ or friends, a good night’s rest.  You can even upgrade the bedding with aftermarket alternatives such as memory foam or hybrid mattresses.

Can it accommodate an A/C and/ or heater?  An A/C unit during a hot summer and a heater on a cold winter freeze can offer much-needed comfort when the weather outside is less than clement.  Pop-up campers are more vulnerable to the conditions going on outside compared to any other RV.  If its hot outside, it’s likely to become very hot on the inside unless you can create sufficient airflow through the tent.  Likewise, if it’s cold outside, the temperature inside can quickly drop on the inside unless you can provide a source of heat.

DURABILITY

Just like any big purchase, you wouldn’t want to waste your money on something that will break only a few months if not weeks after you bought it.  It’s a good thing that pop-up campers can last a long time with the right care and attention, but you need to make sure you’re buying a reliable model.  Like anything else, there are occasional duds which you’ll want to avoid.  There are some questions you need to address when getting your camper:

Can I confidently drive it on the freeway without any concerns over its structural stability?

What happens when you’re camped out and it starts blowing a gale?

USER-FRIENDLY

The foldable feature of the camper itself should help in hinging and unhinging the trailer to your car without too much hassle.  However, assembling your pop-up camper from its folded state can be tedious.  It’s one of those things you need to know step by step using the owner’s manual, the more you use it, the more adept you’ll become at putting it up.  Practice makes perfect.  It might need some getting used to, but this is another important consideration for your purchase.

MAINTENANCE

For worry-free usage and confidence in its abilities, care and maintenance are necessary.  Aside from regular cleaning, you might be in for expensive repairs if it involves the camper flooring.  Ultimately, you must carry out routine checks on the waterproof canvas, checking out for wear and tear, holes or anything else that may impact it’s waterproofing.

Additionally, checks should also be carried out on the roof lift system, seals and tires.  Holes caused by abrasion are more prone to happen where the canvas meets the frame or where sections pivot, so pay special attention to these areas.  You can most probably do the minor repairs by yourself and consult a professional for the complicated issues.

APPEARANCE

Again, the fact that his camper is collapsible when on the move gives it a tidy and neat look when not in use.  When the trailer is unfolded, it’ll closely resemble a tent, which is not necessarily a bad thing.  You can even add custom touches to your camper to better match your personal styling preferences.

CONDITION

Should you buy a brand-spanking new model or a used but in good condition variant?  A used camper is not so much a bad idea for as long as the preceding buying factors are met.  If you have the skills and time to do so, a fixer-upper can also be a good choice, you might even be able to sell it for a profit once restored.  You must also check for any issues or imperfections on the following as well:

the physical condition of the entire vehicle

damage caused by moisture

heating and cooling systems should be in working order

fair selling price

But if you want to make a sound investment and have a solid budget for it, buying a new one makes more sense, most importantly if it’s going to rack up lots of mileage. That’s of course just my opinion.

POP-UP TRAILER VS OTHER RVS

There are different kinds of RVs catered to different buyers.  One type is the Trailer van which is a much sturdier version with its hard structure. So how does our humble pop-up camper hold up to the trailer van?  Let’s find out on this face-off:

PORTABILITY

Pop-up campers easily win this one.  The specially treated canvas is lightweight and folds when you’re on the road, making towing the entire thing a breeze.  Travel trailers with its metal walls, are fixed in size whether you’re camped out or traveling. They are a lot heavier and bulky in appearance.

STORAGE

You can easily store your pop-up camper when not in use, with some models even having a door lock for added security and peace of mind.  On the other hand, you might need to find a lot more space in your garage to accommodate your travel trailer or worse, you may even have to pay just for trailer storage.  Based on its compact size which makes for easier storing, It’s now 2 points for pop-up campers.

DRIVING

Aside from being lightweight, the low towing profile of the pop-up camper allows for regular driving routines you are already accustomed to.  As such, backing up is less of a problem because of its low height when collapsed, it does not block your vision.  When you are pulling an RV such as a travel trailer, you will need those special side mirrors to back up safely.  If only for this reason, the pop-up camper wins.

VERSATILITY

It’s safe to say that you can carry out most of your basic home activities such as cooking, showering, relaxing, sleeping, storing things etc. in both the pop-up camper and travel trailer. In terms of versatility, travel trailers have the edge over pop-up campers, they tend to have more amenities and are easier to use.

While we are clearly praising the benefits of a pop-up camper, they do have several shortcomings that are not present in a travel trailer.  I would say that pop-up campers are best suited for camping trips (glamping if you have a pimped-out model with extra perks) while travel trailers are for those who would want to go on long vacations and save money instead of booking hotels.  A travel trailer is more spacious and therefore has more capacity for luxurious amenities.  Travel trailers also require very little in the way of set up, most of the time you can just park up and with a small amount of effort you’re all set. They also tend to offer a little bit more of privacy because of its solid walls, which stop light as well as noise escaping.

And in case you’re wondering, you don’t need a special driving license or any additional training to be able to pull a pop-up camper.  Your existing license will suffice

We’re nearing our best pop-up camper picks, and I know you’re excited to know which campers have been included. At this point, you have been armed with basic knowledge on what you are buying, the good points, the bad points, what to expect and what the alternative RV options offer over a pop-up camper.  Now onto our top picks and the criteria we’ve used to score each of the options.

BEST POP UP CAMPERS REVIEW CRITERIA

selling price – Being the most expensive doesn’t always translate to top quality. We have chosen five brands that have excellent price points, a.k.a more bang for your buck.

functionality – We highlighted each camper’s salient features that make them so attractive to buyers. Brand A could have more storing capacity than Brand B, but Brand B has a four-burner stove while Brand A has two.

customer rating – Who better to have a say than the actual person who has tested it.  It is one thing to sell a nice product and another to have a sleuth of positive reviews and highly recommended product.

feedback from product experts – Information by people in-the-know is, valuable.  The technicalities are where it’s at and even laymen like us consumers need that understanding so we can appreciate the product even more.

We’ve spent countless hours and days researching this topic to provide you with the most comprehensive guide available.  As we’ve already discussed, we’ve had to talk to customers of the chosen campers as well as RV experts to balance objectivity in our review choices.  We also made use of online surveys to supplement our opinions and preconceptions.  I will highlight the buying and review criteria we laid out earlier on in this article, as well as through in a few observations and thoughts.

Our intention is to provide you with as much detail as possible to allow you to make your own informed decision as to which pop-up camper best suits your needs. So, without further ado, please read on for our top 5 recommended pop-up campers.

Jayco Jay Series Sports Camping Trailer

FUNCTION

The Jayco Jay Series Sport is arguably the best in terms of its functions and features.  It can pack a lot of punch within its frame and its fifteen-inch mud tires which are available on the Baja Package model are icing on the cake.  Towing is not a hassle given the ample ground clearance.  It doesn’t hurt having the retractable aluminum steps and a screen door that’s self-closing, either.

Thanks to its sturdy cabinetry, you can store as many pots and pans as you want, keeping your camper clean and organized. You can extend your space with an outdoor feel using an optional ten-by-twelve screen room and privacy panels. This way you can enjoy delicious meals and engaging conversations outside but still have the benefit of shelter from wind, rain, and sun.

AMENITIES

Talk about next level camper facilities- the Jayco Jay Series Sport boasts a kitchen with acrylic sink and faucet and stainless-steel stove which you can use either inside or outside. It comes with a hinged galley with a fridge which is pre-plumbed for added comfort.  There’s an option for four-inch heated bed mats as well as bunk lights and fans.

It has a curtained bathroom, a dinette with reversible cushions, and area prepped for your entertainment where you can place your flat screen TV and sound system.  Not to forget, a six-gallon water heater to enjoy your quick but relaxing hot shower.  With four floor plans that stretch to an unbelievable length of twenty-five feet, it’s features and amenities rival those of many motorhomes or travel trailers.

DURABILITY

The iron-clad warranty lasts for an impressive five years on parts and labor, which is a testament to Jayco Jay Series Sport’s reliability.  Its dome-styled roof is made of fiberglass and has Duratek material tents that resist mildew and repel water.  The windows are tinted with vinyl to protect from harmful rays and prevents cracking due to cold weather. The heavy-duty A-frame is Norco that neither corrodes nor scratches. Furthermore, the topnotch finishing’s on the embossed aluminum makes it suitable for any type of camp conditions.

USER-FRIENDLINESS

The lift system has wide lifter posts connecting to the tent which makes it simple to assemble.  It also has a leveling tongue jack and a retractable ladder made with sand pads allowing for easy entry into the camper.

APPEARANCE

The wall-to-wall vinyl floors is of premium quality and make this camper very attractive.  The coziness is even more evident with its jackknife sofa, booth dinette and a lounge area where you can hang out and relax.  The exterior of the Jayco Jay Series Sport appeals to the rustic and rugged as well as the picky and sophisticated buyer.

PRODUCT REVIEW SUMMARY

The Jayco Jay Series Sport is on the top of our list which hits almost all the marks of a perfect, liveable pop-up camper.  It is made of high-quality materials that ensure its longevity.  We like the fact that it comes with a good-size screen room with privacy panels when you want to experience the outdoors while remaining within the camper.  You can stretch the length of the entire pop-up to twenty-five feet and that’s huge by camper standards.  Those waterproof Duratek tents are comforting especially during the adverse weather conditions, we love being inside a tent when it’s raining.

The mud tires and high ground clearance are perfect for rough terrain. We could use a bathroom especially when camped out and it has one. Assembly is fast, easy and uncomplicated, taking only a few minutes to go from trailer to fully assembled.  The 1050-pound rated bunk beds can accommodate a reasonable load to make your stay as convenient as possible.

There are only a few issues I can say about the Jayco Sport.  One of them is that it suits a small group or family better.  It could be tight if you have more people tagging along.  I wish towing could be smoother on rough roads which may need some adjusting. I can also say its durability may be challenged during inclement weather.

Forest River – Flagstaff Hard Side Pop-Up Camper

FUNCTION

You get the best of both worlds from the Forest River – Flagstaff Hard Side Pop-Up Camper.  It has hard walls comparable to many campers or travel trailers, yet it has pop-up qualities which keep it portable and convenient.  It’s very easy to tow and storage is straightforward. Having eight-floor plans allow for plenty of choices, The Forest River Flagstaff offers different variants to address different needs.  If you want to save on conventional batteries, the camper is also prepped for solar panels, which can save a lot of hassle when camping without powered lots.

AMENITIES

The Forest River Flagstaff has all the basics plus bonus modern conveniences. With the multiple floor plans, you can have a beautiful enclosed living room with maple interior.  As for the pre-plumbed kitchen, it features a high-rise faucet and double-pan sink similar to those you can find in a regular house.  Aside from the three-burner stove, you also have your microwave for quick reheating of your leftovers.  Water supply is ensured with its pump on the underside.

Your entertainment is provided by the presence of a TV outlet cable, satellite hookup, USB ports, WIFI booster and ranger, detachable power cord plus converter and safety breaker to keep your appliances safe.  You can enjoy your zzzzs on quilted bed mattresses with an option for heated bed mats. Attend to your bathroom needs with its hard wall shower and residential-type toilet.

DURABILITY

The high-grade materials used in the construction of this camper assures its long-term use and appeal without fear of wear and tear. It also comes with multiple specific warranties on roof, floor, frame, tent, suspension and lifter system.

USER-FRIENDLINESS

The fiberglass vacuum exterior, powder-coated steel frame and four EZ Crank Down Stabilizer jacks with sand pads will make setting up a breeze.  You can be camped out in style without much effort.

APPEARANCE

The combination of the best features from a typical travel trailer and a pop-up camper improve the overall look of the Forest River Flagstaff.  The hard walls, large, tinted rear roof, and windows give it a homier feel. This also allows more natural light and airflow, which make your stay comfortable and gives the impression of larger accommodation.

PRODUCT REVIEW SUMMARY

I’m happy to declare the Forest River Flagstaff Hard Side Pop-up camper as one of the best out there. As mentioned, the durable hard side walls and its folding top merge the great qualities of a trailer and a pop-up.  We like how the entire camper is prepped to accommodate many gadgets and appliances to make your camping comfortable and effortless. The linoleum floors with a wooden design plus two-toned seats make the Flagstaff look even more beautiful inside.  The availability of eight different floor plans provides plenty of options to the buyer.  Another plus is the nice bathroom which I consider the best I’ve seen in a pop-up camper

The disadvantage of the Forest River is not having the flexibility of a camper style where you can arrange your interior whichever way you want because of the hard side walls.   This will depend however on your personal preference as some might be ok with having a fixed floor plan.  Comparing it to the Jayco Jay Series Sport, it does not have mud tires, so it’s less capable camping off the beaten track.  However, you can always opt for a third-party tire to overcome this restriction.  The pop-up camper also lacks a private screen room where you can hang out outside but still within the camper territory.

LivinLite – QuickSilver Tent Camper

FUNCTION

The LivinLite QuickSilver Tent Camper offers a wide range of features that you might be looking for in a highly reliable pop-up camper. The price is lower than most yet features many convenient amenities, it could very well be the most affordable luxury pop-up camper there is.  You can comfortably sleep three to six happy campers within its length, which stretches to twenty feet and a height of eight feet with some floor plans.

Speaking of floor plans, there are four to choose from, so there should be something to meet your requirements.  The 12-inch tires will provide you with ample stability on the road.  As for storing items, you have several under-seat storage provisions made of thermoformed plastic which make great use of the space available.

AMENITIES

The LivinLite QuickSilver comes prepped for appliances and upgrades such that you can easily make it your own style preferences and needs.  You can add a variety of creature comforts such as air conditioning unit, awnings, awning room, LP furnace, stove, storage deck, residential kitchen countertop, privacy curtains, among others.  On the technical aspect, you can go for electric brakes, higher road clearance, as well as all-terrain 15-inch tires for better road performance.

Default facilities include aluminum cabinets, composite countertops, vinyl cushions, fans on 2 bunk rooms, electricity outlets, hand pump sink, and water tank. If you’re not content with the basics, you can choose from any number of packages that increase the usefulness of the pop-up camper.

DURABILITY

It is amazing that despite its lightweight construction, an all-tubular aluminum frame with vacuum walls can withstand all sorts of adverse weather conditions and they’ve been proven to be resistant to wear and tear.  The composite laminate materials on the exterior are resistant to both water and mold.  The LivinLite QuickSilver has a heavy-duty tent with zippered windows and emergency exits at the bed areas.

USER-FRIENDLINESS

Again, its lightweight properties due to aluminum materials account for its tow ability and maneuverability even by small cars.  Transforming it into a campsite can be uncomplicated with the swivel jack on tongue, pre-wired Furrion Solar and front/ rear stabilizer jacks.

APPEARANCE

You are assured to find a LivinLite QuickSilver that suits your aesthetic preferences, the trailer is available in over six-color configurations. When you’re towing the camper, it’s not at all distracting, as it folds into a neat package which is easy to tow as any other small trailer.

PRODUCT REVIEW SUMMARY

If you are looking to buy a pop-up camper that’s friendly on the budget but has endless possibilities, the Livinlite QuickSilver could be your best choice.  I like the composite countertops, laminate flooring, aluminum cabinetry and residential Freeze/Crack-Proof Linoleum which are all very practical to use.  I could fit more stuff into it thanks to the under-seat Thermoformed compartments that have more storage capacity than you might first realize. And because you didn’t spend as much on buying the camper, it means that you might be able to stretch to more luxury addons and amenities without fear of breaking the bank.  I would get air conditioning, extra ground clearance, 15-inch tires, storage deck, seven-way plug and stove top, so I don’t miss anything.  However, the choice is obviously yours.

However, it could use some improvements on the towing features.  I also think that setup is a bit complicated, if it’s your first pop-up caper, it might take a bit of getting used to.

Going back to the Jayco Jay Series, it does not have a screen room as a standard- but you can buy it separately for an additional fee, of course.

Coachmen – Clipper And Viking Camping Trailer

FUNCTION

Coachmen’s Clipper and Viking Camping trailer is one of the nicest out there with its towing procedure made easy by an aerodynamic profile. This pop-up camper has fourteen different floor plans, which provides an incredible amount of choice and options. It can comfortably fit up to seven persons making it a great option for families or group of friends.  You can store your extra baggage in the super sliding storage trunk as an option.

AMENITIES

Camping inside the Clipper and Viking trailer feels relaxing and comfortable given the standard facilities.  Aside from the high-density Serta beds, several models of the Clipper and Viking have a built-in shower, Thetford toilet, furnace, privacy drapes, countertops, swing galley and drawer, Bluetooth stereo, acrylic sink, among many others.   If you’re still looking for more items, you can always add air conditioning, a solar panel, screen room, etc.  You’ll never have to miss out anything that you thought you can only have in a typical home.

DURABILITY

The chassis being equipped with a tubular steel frame, Wide Trac Ultralube Spring and torsion Axles relieve you of any worries about the camper’s sturdiness.  Driving with the Clipper and Viking is pleasant because of the electric brakes, radial tires and Goshen Lift System with Double Arms.  The laminated exterior is quite assuring that your camper will stay with you for a long time.

USER-FRIENDLINESS

This pop-up camper features a Glide-n-Lock Cable Supported Bed System among its state-of-the-art inclusions for easy set-up.  The roof is controlled by a Dual Drive Winch by Canimex that when used with a power drill, raising and lowering the roof will only take a few seconds.

APPEARANCE

The Clipper and Viking camping trailer has that wow factor when you see the cabinets with walnut finish among others.  They paid attention to the littlest details so that you wouldn’t have to look for anything else.  Folds easily so towing it on the road is not an eyesore for other motorists.

PRODUCT REVIEW SUMMARY

We, including other customers of this pop-up camper, are happy with all the facilities that come with the purchase.  I consider this one of those top luxury pop-up campers in the market.  The lightweight but aesthetically pleasing design is attractive to buyers.  You also get to enjoy the many things you can do with the fourteen-floor plans and be able to bring many companions with you and not feel too cramped inside.  You will barely need to adjust to staying in this camper because it still feels homey with all the modern conveniences it can carry.  On the vehicle performance, the electric brakes, aluminum rims, radial tires are welcome additions.

While it has a lot of useful features, the Clipper and Viking Camping trailer, however, is slightly more expensive than its direct competition.  It also is quite unreliable during extreme weather.  And if I want to nitpick some more, the few color options might put off some buyers.

Aliner& Somerset – NewPort

FUNCTION

The Aliner & Somerset Newport camper only has simplicity in its mind, therefore, pegged as a cheap option for consumers who are not fans of ultra-modern facilities.  Despite its simple overall design with its one and only floor plan, it manages to deliver the goods, especially for the rustic adventurer.

The large tires provide a higher ground clearance and handle various terrain quite well. Storage is in a flip-up gallery and can fit a lot of the things you may need.  The camper can provide refuge for the night for up to six individuals with its two 4-inch mattresses.  In case you blow up one of your tires, a spare tire comes in handy.

AMENITIES

While the Aliner & Somerset Newport is anything but luxurious compared to the other pop-up campers on this list, it offers important basics to stay true to the authentic camping experience.  You have a decent-sized dinette that can transform into a 39 X 59- inch bed. You also have the standard equipment such as a toilet, double burner with cover, galley, LED lights, privacy drapes, and a portable 5-gallon water tank to help address your daily essentials.

DURABILITY

This camping trailer offers Galvanized Steel Side Body Panels and insulated roofing to protect you from the elements.  The stainless-steel lift system assures road safety of your vehicle.

USER-FRIENDLINESS

Given the simplicity of the Aliner & Somerset Camping trailer, setting it up as a campsite will be a breeze.  It is perhaps the easiest to transform among the pop-up campers on our list here.

APPEARANCE

This trailer looks good given its affordable price point.

PRODUCT REVIEW SUMMARY

Anybody who is money-conscious and prefer basic. straightforward features will love this pop-up camper. I like the convertible dinette that can turn into a child’s bed which is very efficient. It is spacious enough to accommodate two 4-inch thick beds and has plenty of storage with its several cabinets inside. It’s great that it has a two-burner stove with cover, so you can still cook your family recipes while you’re camped out.  The large tires and extra ground clearance are perfect for handling the muddy terrain.

Now if you are used to premium amenities, the Aliner & Somerset Newport is not for you.  Objectively speaking though, the cheap quality of construction materials remains a big advantage regardless if you are an extravagant buyer or not.  As such, it will not be ideal for those who intend to use it frequently for camping trips.

TOP 5 POP-UP CAMPERS QUICK REFERENCE

Jayco Jay Series Sport Camping Trailer

sleeps two to seven persons

has four-floor plans

up to eighteen feet in length

closed length of about 11.7 feet

a closed height of about 4.9 feet

Flagstaff Hard Side Pop-Up Campers

sleeps two to eight persons

has eight-floor plans

up to nineteen feet in length

closed length of about 17 feet

a closed height of about 5 feet

LivinLite – QuickSilver Tent Camper

sleeps two to six persons

has four-floor plans

up to seventeen feet in length

closed length of about 10 feet

a closed height of about 4 feet

Clipper And Viking Camping Trailer

sleeps two to seven persons

has fourteen-floor plans

up to twenty-two feet in length

closed length of about 12.9 feet

a closed height of about 4.5 feet

Aliner& Somerset – NewPort

sleeps two to six persons

has one-floor plan

up to eighteen feet in length

closed length of about 13 feet

a closed height of about 4.10 feet

LAST WORD

There you have it, five of the most sought-after pop-up campers in today’s market.  I’m sure there are more alternatives available but I’m confident to tell you that the campers are the best options out there. We have factored in buyer considerations such as function, amenities, durability, user-friendliness, and appearance for each pop-up camper on the list.  And we have proven to you that a product need not be the most expensive to be regarded as one of the best.  It’s about getting your money’s worth.

When something is expensive but justified by its purpose and quality, that’s a good buy.  We tried to cover the need of all buyers- from the thrifty to the extravagant.  While I could be biased in saying that you can use this comprehensive article as your only guide in buying your own pop-up camper, it is still best to check out the corresponding websites of each manufacturer for more granular info.  I can only hope that I was able to positively contribute to your buying decision. Should you finally purchase the camper of your dreams, fill us in with your experiences by using the comments section below.

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Best Pop Up Campers Our Top 5

Pop up campers are incredibly popular now, people are choosing pop-up campers over the pricey motorhomes for practical reasons, they’re just more affordable.  A pop-up camper is a foldable mobile tent which is easy to put up yet is also very easy to tow.  Of course, cheap doesn’t necessarily mean good.  If you end up buying a less than capable pop-up camper, chances are you’ll end up needing to buy another, negating any savings you may have made. It’s worth getting the best pop up camper from the outset.

However, you’re in luck, a good pop-up camper may need not be as expensive as you think.  It can be complicated though, because there are so many camper models available, each one promising to meet, if not, exceed your expectations.  To help make your buying decision easier, I’ve compiled a list of the best pop up campers available to buy on the market today.

But before we get into the details, I’m assuming you would want to get to know more about the humble yet ubiquitous pop-up camper if you’re buying it for the first time. Or maybe you’re just someone that wants to get reacquainted with this affordable RV. In which case, the next section is for you.

Each one of us has their preferences, notwithstanding budget, so let’s begin with the most important factors to consider in a pop-up camper, as well as what are some of the questions you should answer before making your purchase.

FUNCTION

If you’re fortunate enough to head out on an adventure filled journeys, ending up in exotic locales all over the country, then you might take some comfort in being able to hunker down in comfortable and familiar surroundings.  A pop-up camper can meet these needs perfectly, but there are a couple of aspects you may need to consider.

How many persons can sleep inside the pop-up camper?  Some campers can accommodate two to eight sleepers at a time. If you max the sleeping capacity, it can certainly be cozy, but that’s the price you’ll pay.

How much can you store inside? Length varies from ten feet up to as much eighteen feet and up to fourteen-floor plans for some models.  A reasonable amount of storage should be enough to keep your things organized.

Is it easy to tow using my car?  Pop-up campers are lightweight in general, so it is compatible with virtually any type of four-wheeled vehicle, especially those with limited towing capacity.  As pop-up campers are generally lightweight, the fuel economy of the vehicle is unlikely to be significantly impacted.  The low profile also means rear visibility is decent.

AMENITIES

This is where a trailer can up the ante over a normal tent- the creature comforts and features can be very attractive to a buyer.  After all, a pop-up camper will be your home away from home, if not your only home so it’s got to have the bells and whistles, and then some.

Does it come with a toilet?  Toilets are not usually available for the smaller models for obvious reasons.  For those that can accommodate one, it’s common to have a wet bathroom facility.  It’s like the bathrooms you will find in trains.  The shower head is almost directly above a waterproofed toilet so expect not only to clean yourself when taking a shower, but the entire room is likely to get wet. If you don’t like the extra hassle, there are even a few that have a separate shower and toilets.  Again, it’s unlikely that these shower rooms will be very large, but there should be room enough to store shampoos, soaps etc.

Does it have a kitchen and/or a living room?  Ok, let’s keep it real, a kitchenette and a sitting room maybe.  A small outdoor style kitchen can often be found on the side paneling. These may consist of a compact sink and a two to a four-burner stove.  A portable kind can also be placed inside on some models.  Even if you’re only equipped with a two burner stove, it can afford you the luxury of producing a range of homemade meals. Once you’ve been dining on takeaways and fast food for several days, the thought of a freshly made meal can be very appealing.  Additionally, having a sofa can be a great addition to entertain friends or serve as your retreat after a tiring hike in the wilderness.

Can it fit a refrigerator? If your pop-up camper can hold a refrigerator albeit the personal or mini kind, then that’s a big bonus.  When you’re choosing food to take on your camping trip, having the ability to keep frozen items frozen and fresh items cool can make a massive difference to the variety of foods you can take with you.  A cold drink on a hot day can also be a pleasant treat.

Does it come with beds?  Don’t expect a big, fluffy king-sized mattress.  Remember, you’re not staying in a fully-equipped five-star hotel room. It’s a camper, but you can still have a soft bed that is comfortable enough to give you and your family and/ or friends, a good night’s rest.  You can even upgrade the bedding with aftermarket alternatives such as memory foam or hybrid mattresses.

Can it accommodate an A/C and/ or heater?  An A/C unit during a hot summer and a heater on a cold winter freeze can offer much-needed comfort when the weather outside is less than clement.  Pop-up campers are more vulnerable to the conditions going on outside compared to any other RV.  If its hot outside, it’s likely to become very hot on the inside unless you can create sufficient airflow through the tent.  Likewise, if it’s cold outside, the temperature inside can quickly drop on the inside unless you can provide a source of heat.

DURABILITY

Just like any big purchase, you wouldn’t want to waste your money on something that will break only a few months if not weeks after you bought it.  It’s a good thing that pop-up campers can last a long time with the right care and attention, but you need to make sure you’re buying a reliable model.  Like anything else, there are occasional duds which you’ll want to avoid.  There are some questions you need to address when getting your camper:

Can I confidently drive it on the freeway without any concerns over its structural stability?

What happens when you’re camped out and it starts blowing a gale?

USER-FRIENDLY

The foldable feature of the camper itself should help in hinging and unhinging the trailer to your car without too much hassle.  However, assembling your pop-up camper from its folded state can be tedious.  It’s one of those things you need to know step by step using the owner’s manual, the more you use it, the more adept you’ll become at putting it up.  Practice makes perfect.  It might need some getting used to, but this is another important consideration for your purchase.

MAINTENANCE

For worry-free usage and confidence in its abilities, care and maintenance are necessary.  Aside from regular cleaning, you might be in for expensive repairs if it involves the camper flooring.  Ultimately, you must carry out routine checks on the waterproof canvas, checking out for wear and tear, holes or anything else that may impact it’s waterproofing.

Additionally, checks should also be carried out on the roof lift system, seals and tires.  Holes caused by abrasion are more prone to happen where the canvas meets the frame or where sections pivot, so pay special attention to these areas.  You can most probably do the minor repairs by yourself and consult a professional for the complicated issues.

APPEARANCE

Again, the fact that his camper is collapsible when on the move gives it a tidy and neat look when not in use.  When the trailer is unfolded, it’ll closely resemble a tent, which is not necessarily a bad thing.  You can even add custom touches to your camper to better match your personal styling preferences.

CONDITION

Should you buy a brand-spanking new model or a used but in good condition variant?  A used camper is not so much a bad idea for as long as the preceding buying factors are met.  If you have the skills and time to do so, a fixer-upper can also be a good choice, you might even be able to sell it for a profit once restored.  You must also check for any issues or imperfections on the following as well:

the physical condition of the entire vehicle

damage caused by moisture

heating and cooling systems should be in working order

fair selling price

But if you want to make a sound investment and have a solid budget for it, buying a new one makes more sense, most importantly if it’s going to rack up lots of mileage. That’s of course just my opinion.

POP-UP TRAILER VS OTHER RVS

There are different kinds of RVs catered to different buyers.  One type is the Trailer van which is a much sturdier version with its hard structure. So how does our humble pop-up camper hold up to the trailer van?  Let’s find out on this face-off:

PORTABILITY

Pop-up campers easily win this one.  The specially treated canvas is lightweight and folds when you’re on the road, making towing the entire thing a breeze.  Travel trailers with its metal walls, are fixed in size whether you’re camped out or traveling. They are a lot heavier and bulky in appearance.

STORAGE

You can easily store your pop-up camper when not in use, with some models even having a door lock for added security and peace of mind.  On the other hand, you might need to find a lot more space in your garage to accommodate your travel trailer or worse, you may even have to pay just for trailer storage.  Based on its compact size which makes for easier storing, It’s now 2 points for pop-up campers.

DRIVING

Aside from being lightweight, the low towing profile of the pop-up camper allows for regular driving routines you are already accustomed to.  As such, backing up is less of a problem because of its low height when collapsed, it does not block your vision.  When you are pulling an RV such as a travel trailer, you will need those special side mirrors to back up safely.  If only for this reason, the pop-up camper wins.

VERSATILITY

It’s safe to say that you can carry out most of your basic home activities such as cooking, showering, relaxing, sleeping, storing things etc. in both the pop-up camper and travel trailer. In terms of versatility, travel trailers have the edge over pop-up campers, they tend to have more amenities and are easier to use.

While we are clearly praising the benefits of a pop-up camper, they do have several shortcomings that are not present in a travel trailer.  I would say that pop-up campers are best suited for camping trips (glamping if you have a pimped-out model with extra perks) while travel trailers are for those who would want to go on long vacations and save money instead of booking hotels.  A travel trailer is more spacious and therefore has more capacity for luxurious amenities.  Travel trailers also require very little in the way of set up, most of the time you can just park up and with a small amount of effort you’re all set. They also tend to offer a little bit more of privacy because of its solid walls, which stop light as well as noise escaping.

And in case you’re wondering, you don’t need a special driving license or any additional training to be able to pull a pop-up camper.  Your existing license will suffice

We’re nearing our best pop-up camper picks, and I know you’re excited to know which campers have been included. At this point, you have been armed with basic knowledge on what you are buying, the good points, the bad points, what to expect and what the alternative RV options offer over a pop-up camper.  Now onto our top picks and the criteria we’ve used to score each of the options.

BEST POP UP CAMPERS REVIEW CRITERIA

selling price – Being the most expensive doesn’t always translate to top quality. We have chosen five brands that have excellent price points, a.k.a more bang for your buck.

functionality – We highlighted each camper’s salient features that make them so attractive to buyers. Brand A could have more storing capacity than Brand B, but Brand B has a four-burner stove while Brand A has two.

customer rating – Who better to have a say than the actual person who has tested it.  It is one thing to sell a nice product and another to have a sleuth of positive reviews and highly recommended product.

feedback from product experts – Information by people in-the-know is, valuable.  The technicalities are where it’s at and even laymen like us consumers need that understanding so we can appreciate the product even more.

We’ve spent countless hours and days researching this topic to provide you with the most comprehensive guide available.  As we’ve already discussed, we’ve had to talk to customers of the chosen campers as well as RV experts to balance objectivity in our review choices.  We also made use of online surveys to supplement our opinions and preconceptions.  I will highlight the buying and review criteria we laid out earlier on in this article, as well as through in a few observations and thoughts.

Our intention is to provide you with as much detail as possible to allow you to make your own informed decision as to which pop-up camper best suits your needs. So, without further ado, please read on for our top 5 recommended pop-up campers.

Jayco Jay Series Sports Camping Trailer

FUNCTION

The Jayco Jay Series Sport is arguably the best in terms of its functions and features.  It can pack a lot of punch within its frame and its fifteen-inch mud tires which are available on the Baja Package model are icing on the cake.  Towing is not a hassle given the ample ground clearance.  It doesn’t hurt having the retractable aluminum steps and a screen door that’s self-closing, either.

Thanks to its sturdy cabinetry, you can store as many pots and pans as you want, keeping your camper clean and organized. You can extend your space with an outdoor feel using an optional ten-by-twelve screen room and privacy panels. This way you can enjoy delicious meals and engaging conversations outside but still have the benefit of shelter from wind, rain, and sun.

AMENITIES

Talk about next level camper facilities- the Jayco Jay Series Sport boasts a kitchen with acrylic sink and faucet and stainless-steel stove which you can use either inside or outside. It comes with a hinged galley with a fridge which is pre-plumbed for added comfort.  There’s an option for four-inch heated bed mats as well as bunk lights and fans.

It has a curtained bathroom, a dinette with reversible cushions, and area prepped for your entertainment where you can place your flat screen TV and sound system.  Not to forget, a six-gallon water heater to enjoy your quick but relaxing hot shower.  With four floor plans that stretch to an unbelievable length of twenty-five feet, it’s features and amenities rival those of many motorhomes or travel trailers.

DURABILITY

The iron-clad warranty lasts for an impressive five years on parts and labor, which is a testament to Jayco Jay Series Sport’s reliability.  Its dome-styled roof is made of fiberglass and has Duratek material tents that resist mildew and repel water.  The windows are tinted with vinyl to protect from harmful rays and prevents cracking due to cold weather. The heavy-duty A-frame is Norco that neither corrodes nor scratches. Furthermore, the topnotch finishing’s on the embossed aluminum makes it suitable for any type of camp conditions.

USER-FRIENDLINESS

The lift system has wide lifter posts connecting to the tent which makes it simple to assemble.  It also has a leveling tongue jack and a retractable ladder made with sand pads allowing for easy entry into the camper.

APPEARANCE

The wall-to-wall vinyl floors is of premium quality and make this camper very attractive.  The coziness is even more evident with its jackknife sofa, booth dinette and a lounge area where you can hang out and relax.  The exterior of the Jayco Jay Series Sport appeals to the rustic and rugged as well as the picky and sophisticated buyer.

PRODUCT REVIEW SUMMARY

The Jayco Jay Series Sport is on the top of our list which hits almost all the marks of a perfect, liveable pop-up camper.  It is made of high-quality materials that ensure its longevity.  We like the fact that it comes with a good-size screen room with privacy panels when you want to experience the outdoors while remaining within the camper.  You can stretch the length of the entire pop-up to twenty-five feet and that’s huge by camper standards.  Those waterproof Duratek tents are comforting especially during the adverse weather conditions, we love being inside a tent when it’s raining.

The mud tires and high ground clearance are perfect for rough terrain. We could use a bathroom especially when camped out and it has one. Assembly is fast, easy and uncomplicated, taking only a few minutes to go from trailer to fully assembled.  The 1050-pound rated bunk beds can accommodate a reasonable load to make your stay as convenient as possible.

There are only a few issues I can say about the Jayco Sport.  One of them is that it suits a small group or family better.  It could be tight if you have more people tagging along.  I wish towing could be smoother on rough roads which may need some adjusting. I can also say its durability may be challenged during inclement weather.

Forest River – Flagstaff Hard Side Pop-Up Camper

FUNCTION

You get the best of both worlds from the Forest River – Flagstaff Hard Side Pop-Up Camper.  It has hard walls comparable to many campers or travel trailers, yet it has pop-up qualities which keep it portable and convenient.  It’s very easy to tow and storage is straightforward. Having eight-floor plans allow for plenty of choices, The Forest River Flagstaff offers different variants to address different needs.  If you want to save on conventional batteries, the camper is also prepped for solar panels, which can save a lot of hassle when camping without powered lots.

AMENITIES

The Forest River Flagstaff has all the basics plus bonus modern conveniences. With the multiple floor plans, you can have a beautiful enclosed living room with maple interior.  As for the pre-plumbed kitchen, it features a high-rise faucet and double-pan sink similar to those you can find in a regular house.  Aside from the three-burner stove, you also have your microwave for quick reheating of your leftovers.  Water supply is ensured with its pump on the underside.

Your entertainment is provided by the presence of a TV outlet cable, satellite hookup, USB ports, WIFI booster and ranger, detachable power cord plus converter and safety breaker to keep your appliances safe.  You can enjoy your zzzzs on quilted bed mattresses with an option for heated bed mats. Attend to your bathroom needs with its hard wall shower and residential-type toilet.

DURABILITY

The high-grade materials used in the construction of this camper assures its long-term use and appeal without fear of wear and tear. It also comes with multiple specific warranties on roof, floor, frame, tent, suspension and lifter system.

USER-FRIENDLINESS

The fiberglass vacuum exterior, powder-coated steel frame and four EZ Crank Down Stabilizer jacks with sand pads will make setting up a breeze.  You can be camped out in style without much effort.

APPEARANCE

The combination of the best features from a typical travel trailer and a pop-up camper improve the overall look of the Forest River Flagstaff.  The hard walls, large, tinted rear roof, and windows give it a homier feel. This also allows more natural light and airflow, which make your stay comfortable and gives the impression of larger accommodation.

PRODUCT REVIEW SUMMARY

I’m happy to declare the Forest River Flagstaff Hard Side Pop-up camper as one of the best out there. As mentioned, the durable hard side walls and its folding top merge the great qualities of a trailer and a pop-up.  We like how the entire camper is prepped to accommodate many gadgets and appliances to make your camping comfortable and effortless. The linoleum floors with a wooden design plus two-toned seats make the Flagstaff look even more beautiful inside.  The availability of eight different floor plans provides plenty of options to the buyer.  Another plus is the nice bathroom which I consider the best I’ve seen in a pop-up camper

The disadvantage of the Forest River is not having the flexibility of a camper style where you can arrange your interior whichever way you want because of the hard side walls.   This will depend however on your personal preference as some might be ok with having a fixed floor plan.  Comparing it to the Jayco Jay Series Sport, it does not have mud tires, so it’s less capable camping off the beaten track.  However, you can always opt for a third-party tire to overcome this restriction.  The pop-up camper also lacks a private screen room where you can hang out outside but still within the camper territory.

LivinLite – QuickSilver Tent Camper

FUNCTION

The LivinLite QuickSilver Tent Camper offers a wide range of features that you might be looking for in a highly reliable pop-up camper. The price is lower than most yet features many convenient amenities, it could very well be the most affordable luxury pop-up camper there is.  You can comfortably sleep three to six happy campers within its length, which stretches to twenty feet and a height of eight feet with some floor plans.

Speaking of floor plans, there are four to choose from, so there should be something to meet your requirements.  The 12-inch tires will provide you with ample stability on the road.  As for storing items, you have several under-seat storage provisions made of thermoformed plastic which make great use of the space available.

AMENITIES

The LivinLite QuickSilver comes prepped for appliances and upgrades such that you can easily make it your own style preferences and needs.  You can add a variety of creature comforts such as air conditioning unit, awnings, awning room, LP furnace, stove, storage deck, residential kitchen countertop, privacy curtains, among others.  On the technical aspect, you can go for electric brakes, higher road clearance, as well as all-terrain 15-inch tires for better road performance.

Default facilities include aluminum cabinets, composite countertops, vinyl cushions, fans on 2 bunk rooms, electricity outlets, hand pump sink, and water tank. If you’re not content with the basics, you can choose from any number of packages that increase the usefulness of the pop-up camper.

DURABILITY

It is amazing that despite its lightweight construction, an all-tubular aluminum frame with vacuum walls can withstand all sorts of adverse weather conditions and they’ve been proven to be resistant to wear and tear.  The composite laminate materials on the exterior are resistant to both water and mold.  The LivinLite QuickSilver has a heavy-duty tent with zippered windows and emergency exits at the bed areas.

USER-FRIENDLINESS

Again, its lightweight properties due to aluminum materials account for its tow ability and maneuverability even by small cars.  Transforming it into a campsite can be uncomplicated with the swivel jack on tongue, pre-wired Furrion Solar and front/ rear stabilizer jacks.

APPEARANCE

You are assured to find a LivinLite QuickSilver that suits your aesthetic preferences, the trailer is available in over six-color configurations. When you’re towing the camper, it’s not at all distracting, as it folds into a neat package which is easy to tow as any other small trailer.

PRODUCT REVIEW SUMMARY

If you are looking to buy a pop-up camper that’s friendly on the budget but has endless possibilities, the Livinlite QuickSilver could be your best choice.  I like the composite countertops, laminate flooring, aluminum cabinetry and residential Freeze/Crack-Proof Linoleum which are all very practical to use.  I could fit more stuff into it thanks to the under-seat Thermoformed compartments that have more storage capacity than you might first realize. And because you didn’t spend as much on buying the camper, it means that you might be able to stretch to more luxury addons and amenities without fear of breaking the bank.  I would get air conditioning, extra ground clearance, 15-inch tires, storage deck, seven-way plug and stove top, so I don’t miss anything.  However, the choice is obviously yours.

However, it could use some improvements on the towing features.  I also think that setup is a bit complicated, if it’s your first pop-up caper, it might take a bit of getting used to.

Going back to the Jayco Jay Series, it does not have a screen room as a standard- but you can buy it separately for an additional fee, of course.

Coachmen – Clipper And Viking Camping Trailer

FUNCTION

Coachmen’s Clipper and Viking Camping trailer is one of the nicest out there with its towing procedure made easy by an aerodynamic profile. This pop-up camper has fourteen different floor plans, which provides an incredible amount of choice and options. It can comfortably fit up to seven persons making it a great option for families or group of friends.  You can store your extra baggage in the super sliding storage trunk as an option.

AMENITIES

Camping inside the Clipper and Viking trailer feels relaxing and comfortable given the standard facilities.  Aside from the high-density Serta beds, several models of the Clipper and Viking have a built-in shower, Thetford toilet, furnace, privacy drapes, countertops, swing galley and drawer, Bluetooth stereo, acrylic sink, among many others.   If you’re still looking for more items, you can always add air conditioning, a solar panel, screen room, etc.  You’ll never have to miss out anything that you thought you can only have in a typical home.

DURABILITY

The chassis being equipped with a tubular steel frame, Wide Trac Ultralube Spring and torsion Axles relieve you of any worries about the camper’s sturdiness.  Driving with the Clipper and Viking is pleasant because of the electric brakes, radial tires and Goshen Lift System with Double Arms.  The laminated exterior is quite assuring that your camper will stay with you for a long time.

USER-FRIENDLINESS

This pop-up camper features a Glide-n-Lock Cable Supported Bed System among its state-of-the-art inclusions for easy set-up.  The roof is controlled by a Dual Drive Winch by Canimex that when used with a power drill, raising and lowering the roof will only take a few seconds.

APPEARANCE

The Clipper and Viking camping trailer has that wow factor when you see the cabinets with walnut finish among others.  They paid attention to the littlest details so that you wouldn’t have to look for anything else.  Folds easily so towing it on the road is not an eyesore for other motorists.

PRODUCT REVIEW SUMMARY

We, including other customers of this pop-up camper, are happy with all the facilities that come with the purchase.  I consider this one of those top luxury pop-up campers in the market.  The lightweight but aesthetically pleasing design is attractive to buyers.  You also get to enjoy the many things you can do with the fourteen-floor plans and be able to bring many companions with you and not feel too cramped inside.  You will barely need to adjust to staying in this camper because it still feels homey with all the modern conveniences it can carry.  On the vehicle performance, the electric brakes, aluminum rims, radial tires are welcome additions.

While it has a lot of useful features, the Clipper and Viking Camping trailer, however, is slightly more expensive than its direct competition.  It also is quite unreliable during extreme weather.  And if I want to nitpick some more, the few color options might put off some buyers.

Aliner& Somerset – NewPort

FUNCTION

The Aliner & Somerset Newport camper only has simplicity in its mind, therefore, pegged as a cheap option for consumers who are not fans of ultra-modern facilities.  Despite its simple overall design with its one and only floor plan, it manages to deliver the goods, especially for the rustic adventurer.

The large tires provide a higher ground clearance and handle various terrain quite well. Storage is in a flip-up gallery and can fit a lot of the things you may need.  The camper can provide refuge for the night for up to six individuals with its two 4-inch mattresses.  In case you blow up one of your tires, a spare tire comes in handy.

AMENITIES

While the Aliner & Somerset Newport is anything but luxurious compared to the other pop-up campers on this list, it offers important basics to stay true to the authentic camping experience.  You have a decent-sized dinette that can transform into a 39 X 59- inch bed. You also have the standard equipment such as a toilet, double burner with cover, galley, LED lights, privacy drapes, and a portable 5-gallon water tank to help address your daily essentials.

DURABILITY

This camping trailer offers Galvanized Steel Side Body Panels and insulated roofing to protect you from the elements.  The stainless-steel lift system assures road safety of your vehicle.

USER-FRIENDLINESS

Given the simplicity of the Aliner & Somerset Camping trailer, setting it up as a campsite will be a breeze.  It is perhaps the easiest to transform among the pop-up campers on our list here.

APPEARANCE

This trailer looks good given its affordable price point.

PRODUCT REVIEW SUMMARY

Anybody who is money-conscious and prefer basic. straightforward features will love this pop-up camper. I like the convertible dinette that can turn into a child’s bed which is very efficient. It is spacious enough to accommodate two 4-inch thick beds and has plenty of storage with its several cabinets inside. It’s great that it has a two-burner stove with cover, so you can still cook your family recipes while you’re camped out.  The large tires and extra ground clearance are perfect for handling the muddy terrain.

Now if you are used to premium amenities, the Aliner & Somerset Newport is not for you.  Objectively speaking though, the cheap quality of construction materials remains a big advantage regardless if you are an extravagant buyer or not.  As such, it will not be ideal for those who intend to use it frequently for camping trips.

TOP 5 POP-UP CAMPERS QUICK REFERENCE

Jayco Jay Series Sport Camping Trailer

sleeps two to seven persons

has four-floor plans

up to eighteen feet in length

closed length of about 11.7 feet

a closed height of about 4.9 feet

Flagstaff Hard Side Pop-Up Campers

sleeps two to eight persons

has eight-floor plans

up to nineteen feet in length

closed length of about 17 feet

a closed height of about 5 feet

LivinLite – QuickSilver Tent Camper

sleeps two to six persons

has four-floor plans

up to seventeen feet in length

closed length of about 10 feet

a closed height of about 4 feet

Clipper And Viking Camping Trailer

sleeps two to seven persons

has fourteen-floor plans

up to twenty-two feet in length

closed length of about 12.9 feet

a closed height of about 4.5 feet

Aliner& Somerset – NewPort

sleeps two to six persons

has one-floor plan

up to eighteen feet in length

closed length of about 13 feet

a closed height of about 4.10 feet

LAST WORD

There you have it, five of the most sought-after pop-up campers in today’s market.  I’m sure there are more alternatives available but I’m confident to tell you that the campers are the best options out there. We have factored in buyer considerations such as function, amenities, durability, user-friendliness, and appearance for each pop-up camper on the list.  And we have proven to you that a product need not be the most expensive to be regarded as one of the best.  It’s about getting your money’s worth.

When something is expensive but justified by its purpose and quality, that’s a good buy.  We tried to cover the need of all buyers- from the thrifty to the extravagant.  While I could be biased in saying that you can use this comprehensive article as your only guide in buying your own pop-up camper, it is still best to check out the corresponding websites of each manufacturer for more granular info.  I can only hope that I was able to positively contribute to your buying decision. Should you finally purchase the camper of your dreams, fill us in with your experiences by using the comments section below.

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