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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years ago

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What about Lady D and truth, for the prompt thing?

(Longer than all of my one word prompts, at close to 1300 words, so under a read-more)

In all her years, Lady Alcina Dimitrescu has rarely been one to humor anxiety. She was strong-willed, determined, held a great favor for honesty, and had few reasons to doubt herself. After all, she was one of Mother Miranda’s chosen “children”, selected to rule over a grand estate for decades. What could possibly make her palms sweat, or her heart skip beats? To her immense displeasure… the answer was love. Love was what both thrilled and terrified her, acting as butterflies in her stomach yet a snake coiling around her throat all the same. It held her heart hostage inside her own chest. Yes, love did all this and more, for it was a mighty affection, far stronger than Alcina had felt before (at least when it came to romance).

And it was love for you. She had yet to approach the subject with you, out of her anxiety, but had not attempted to directly hide her feelings. By this point, her pining was clear to just about everyone in the castle. Well, everyone but you. Despite the way Alcina softened around you, despite the way she easily forgave your mistakes (even the ones that cost her), despite the way she constantly invited you to share a drink or meal with her, despite everything, you did not make the connection.

At first you had merely assumed you had caught her eye, and that before long she would select you as her next “meal”. After a couple of months, you realized your misjudgment, then believing that she enjoyed your company; but only as a friend, of course. There was little reason for you to assume that an incredibly powerful, century-old, blood-drinking immortal was romantically interested in a servant such as yourself. To Alcina, your obliviousness came off as humility, which only strengthened the thundering of her heart. In the end, it took the intervention of a trusted colleague for you to realize the truth.

“How do you feel about Lady Dimitrescu? Like, emotionally,” Ava wrote, before passing xer notebook to you. Admittedly it had taken a while for you to adjust to xer odd way of communicating, but once you had, well, xe was always an interesting conversational partner. Plenty of odd anecdotes and humorous stories about your employers. More than that, xe had a knack for understanding even the most intricate of human emotions. On several different occasions you had seen xer talking with other maidens, about serious subjects, acting as a pseudo therapist. Now it appears to be your turn to have your mind examined.

“She’s, hmm. I suppose I have conflicting emotions about her,” you reply, as quietly as you can, worried that somehow your employers would overhear. Recognizing that you hadn’t actually answered Ava’s question, you continued, pausing here and there to think about how to articulate your thoughts. “On one hand I know that she’s capable of great, terrible harm. I’ve seen the results, I’ve even poured them like wine for her to drink… But she can be awfully sweet, when she so desires, especially to her children. Perhaps I’ve come to be numb, insensitive to the violence around us, but I cannot help but admire Lady Alcina. Even, well, I suppose I might be inclined to say that I do more than just admire her.”

“Ooh la la, my friend! Would you ever consider telling her? I imagine it would go rather well. Just a feeling, though, so no pressure!” Ava replies, presenting xer notebook with a flourish and a grin. Immediately you’re blushing, somehow not having expected xer to say anything like that. It takes you a moment to think about what xe said, trying to figure out what you’re wanting to do- what you’re willing to risk. You were certain that Ava knew what xe was talking about, considering how close to the Dimitrescu xe was, meaning that you stood a good chance of starting something meaningful with Alcina.

“Wait,” you start to say, remembering tidbits from the past few months, “has she felt something for me for some time now? Have I been misinterpreting things this entire time?” At that, Ava gives a hearty laugh, the most noise you’ve ever heard from xer. But xe doesn’t give you a proper response, instead giving you a pat on the shoulder before leaving the room forthright. You’re left to your own devices, to ponder your options fully. It’s not hard to make a decision; not when you think about how much Alcina means to you. “Guess we’ve got something to talk about… here’s hoping Ava knows as much as xe seems to.”

—————————

“Lady Dimitrescu? May I have a minute of your time?” You ask, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. Despite the evidence of her affection, as well as Ava’s testimony, you could not help but be nervous. There was certainly a risk to opening up to one’s own boss, particularly when they were as dangerous as Alcina. Thankfully, the good lady seemed to be in a pleasant mood today. Certainly that would help, yes?

“Of course, my dear. There are few things that would ever distract me from you,” Alcina replies, making your heart skip a beat. Admittedly you doubted the truth behind her words… but that didn’t mean she hadn’t successfully flustered you. More than that, she seemed rather pleased by your unsubtle blush, a satisfied smile gracing her lips. For a few seconds you’re too distracted by her to speak. “Please, take a seat, make yourself comfortable. I assure you that you have no reason to be nervous.” Except you did, of course, but there was no point in arguing. So you settle down as best as you’re able, heart still racing. Part of you couldn’t help but wonder if she could hear it.

“I… I do not want to be overly forward, Lady Alcina, for you are first and foremost my employer, and a Lord of the village, and I hold nothing in my heart for you but respect. There’s simply something that I must, well, get off my chest,” you explain sheepishly. Across from you, Alcina does her best to appear welcoming, even if it meant less-than-perfect posture (not that it was anywhere bad enough for you to notice). Although you are not aware, her chest thrums with excitement. Were you going to make this easy for her? Were you to reach out in the way that she had yet to do? Was your confession, your truth, the same as her own? “I have… ahem, found myself falling for you, my Lady, over these past few months. I-I know that you likely do not share these feelings, and that the chances of us becoming a couple are slim to none, but I-”

To her, this was absurd, and she would hear no more of it. So she rose to her feet, making you do the same out of nerves, one hand going to gently cup your chin. She held you there, forcing you to make eye contact. Except her gaze held nothing other than affection.

“Do not fret, my dear. You have consumed my heart in its entirety, and I will hear no talk of me denying you what is rightfully yours. I have ached with this truth for some time, but now I am free to bear it with pride, your hand in mine,” Alcina says, voice a perfect blend of softness and confidence. Before either of you realize it, you’re wrapping your arms around her, pulling her in close. She’s eager to return the embrace, fingers rubbing gentle circles into your back. “Thank you, dear, for saying what I could not.”

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #avaskian caldwell #queuemander shepard

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dancingintheraindreamingonday · 4 years ago

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My loyalty can be bought - Chapter 7

Author’s note: The journey is almost over. Maybe two more chapters. Sometimes I want to write thousands of words but that would probably bore you. Thanks to everyone who reads my stories. It means the world to me.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

„When was this picture taken?“ Bucky, Sam and Zemo, the golden trio, stand in Sharon Carter’s apartment looking at all her illegal paintings. But a certain framed picture got Bucky’s attention. On this picture was Sharon and you. A cigarette was between your fingers and a bottle of Vodka was in the other hand. Your wedding ring wasn’t on your left ring-finger anymore. Instead you wore it as a necklace. You looked different. Your hair was darker than usual and you wore more make-up. If Bucky hadn’t memorize every feature of your body he wouldn’t have recognize you.

„Three years ago… I think… During that time (y/f/n) and I were pretty close but now not anymore. I think that’s a side effect when you are the vice-director of SHIELD. She doesn’t trust me anymore.“

Bucky didn’t know what shocked him most. You being vice-president of SHIELD or you not trusting Sharon anymore. After all, you and Sharon were really good friends.

„She said my loyalty can be bought and that’s not a good character trait.“ Sharon continues talking as she pours herself a glas of whiskey.

Bucky jumps to his feet and pushes Sharon against the wall who drops the glas. „Bucky!“, Sam screams and stands right behind Bucky. „What the hell are you doing?“

„And did you sell your loyalty to the one who kidnapped (y/f/n)? Did you?“, Bucky shouts at her.

He knew it. Right from the beginning when they met Sharon after all those years. Something was off. She’s not innocent

Sharon doesn’t look at Bucky but instead at her mobile phone. Sam follows her gaze, unlocks the phone and finds a voice message of you just a day before the abduction:

„Tell your little friends to stop following me. I don’t like being followed, Sharon. I know the identity of the power broker and I also know that SHIELD is infiltrated by HYDRA again. I’m neither blind nor naive. Why are you working with her, Sharon? I thought you hated Valentina. Why are you cooperating with her? I’m warning you. Leave them alone. Leave my family alone.“

The call ends. Your voice still hard and strong, echoing through Bucky’s mind.

„Where the hell is she? If you want to live you better tell me.“

„She knew how this would end. (Y/f/n) played with fire and got burnt. You really think she’s still the same quirky and naive teenager who just lived for the love of a man. Wake up, Bucky. How do you think she got the job at SHIELD? You still trust her even thought she kept all the secrets.“ Sharon tries to free herself but Bucky’s grip is too strong. „Did she tell you that the first year of being a mother she wasn’t even with her child because of her depressions? She gave the kid to Tony and Pepper. Did you know that? Did she tell you how close she was with Clint Barton? Did she tell you about the huge argument she had with Steve and that they weren’t on speaking terms for 3 years? Did she tell you that she lived in Madripoor for months? And did she tell you that she was with Barton on their criminal missions? No, I bet not. She’s still acting like this weak woman around you but believe me. She’s not innocent.“ Sharon spats in Bucky’s face.

„For the last time. Where is she?“ Not responding to Sharon's accusations.

„I’ll show you because she’s probably already dead. It was her or me and after all she was right about one thing: My loyalty can be bought.“ Sharon’s voice is filled with anger as she smiles at Bucky and Sam wickedly.

Sharon leads the way, a gun is pointed in her back. „If that’s a trap I’ll make sure you will regret the day you betrayed (y/f/n).“, Bucky whispers in her ear.

After a while they walk into a dark building which is guarded with several soldiers with heavy guns.

„They are with me. They wanna see the project.“

As they walk down the hall they see many doors with little windows. Bucky see other men and women in white hospital clothing laying on bed.

„(Y/f/n) is our special guest. She’s in the last room.“

The last room has three more soldiers guarding the door. As they step aside and Bucky, Sharon, Sam and Zemo enter the room, Bucky’s heart drops. There you are. Unconscious and weak. Bucky pushes Sharon aside and walks directly to your bed.

„Love?“, He caress your left cheek with his big hand. „Can you hear me? I need you to wake up. We have to get you out of here.“ He takes the syringe out of your arm and shakes you softly but you don’t respond.

„I’ve brought them here as you wished.“, mumbles Sharon in her ear piece.

The door opens again and soldiers run into the room to take their positions. „What a great day. Killing the winter soldier, the falcon and the vice-director of SHIELD. And this guy.“ A woman with black hair and big silver earrings walks into the room, looking from Bucky, to Sam, to you and to Zemo. „Good work, Carter. Well done.“, she pats Sharon on her shoulder. „You are Ms. De Fontaine. You were friends with Steve. How can you betray his legacy?“, Sam asks disgusted by her betrayal. „The world changes, Mr. Wilson. So does people and people’s goals.“

As Sharon and Valentina De Fontaine walk out of this room, Bucky and Sam, and even Zemo make themselves ready to fight.

„Have fun, boys.“, Valentina chimes as the the door closed.

15 soldiers versus 3 men. Bucky attacks first and then there was utter chaos. Punches, knife stabs and kicks. All you can hear are bones cracking, cries and thuds. Sam is pressed against the wall with no option to escape. „Any last words?“ , asks the soldier who points a gun at Sam. But before Sam could do anything the soldier collapses on the floor with a bullet in his left temple. Sam turns to his right. There is you. You lean against the wall with shaking legs. The gun is still in your hands as you whisper „Asshole“. While Sam and Zemo take the end of this fight as a small break to catch breath, Bucky rushes to you. He hugs you and kisses you dirty hair. „We need to get out of here.“ He grabs your hand as you all escape Madripoor.

Later on the plane, Bucky looks at you intensively. „Why didn’t you tell me?“

You look at him confusion written on your face. „Tell you about what?“

„About everything. You and SHIELD; You and Steve and you and Barton. I didn’t know you were a couple.“ The last part hurts Bucky the most. He feels this green monster inside him roaring out of jealousy.

„Clint and I were never a couple. Maybe a couple of idiots and friends. But there was never more between us. Clint and I lost so much but we didn’t lose the love we had for those who we lost. At that time we were in so much pain and grieve. No, a romantic relationship was something both of us never wanted- not with each other or with anyone else.“, you reassure Bucky. He doesn’t show it but Bucky is relieved and happy.

„There is still so much that I don’t know about you.“

„James, we broke up after you came back, remember? And people don’t really talk with their ex-partners.“

„Breaking up with you was the worst mistake I’ve ever made.“, whispers Bucky just for you to hear it.

„It’s okay, James. I’m okay. We changed. We both did. You changed. I changed. Heck, our whole family and the whole universe changed. And love does the same too.“

„Mine didn’t.“, says Bucky. „My feelings for you never changed. I still love you.“

You smile at Bucky for a while, not reacting to his love confession immediately.

You lean your head against the cold window of the plane and close your eyes. You spoke so softly that Bucky almost missed it you say. „I’ll always love you.“

Chapter 8

Author’s note at the end: Sorry, for making Sharon kinda bad. I love the Sharon in the movies and I love the actress, so it’s definitely nothing personal. Did you notice how much my you-character changed? A few chapters ago in Bucharest she didn't notice that she and Bucky were being followed but now she's more aware of her surrounding. ;)

@inlovewith3 @jackiehollanderr @homesicam@dreamydreamerwriting @losers-club6 @gengen64@agentsofsheilds @crimson-darling @akkinda10 @xemine@bubblegumholland @chipilerendi @iamasimpingh0e @bbmommy0902 @madddiiee26 @teenagedreams-bucky @aya-fay @idontknowwhatthisisfam @w-wolfhxrd @useless-creature-213 @angywritesstuff @supernaturalcat7 @harrys-stan @geek-and-proud @pastel-boy-sungjae @austynparksandpizza @maxsaturdayhatesnarwhals @teenagedreams-bucky

#sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes feels #james barnes #james bucky barnes

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inkweavers · 3 years ago

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On Exmormonism

Or, the Journey thus far.

CW: Religious Trauma

I haven't been in the church since 2013ish lets say.

I used to be part of a transgender LDS support group on facebook, because I figured out my gender identity wasn't what it was assigned at birth as everyone said it was. I was resigned and accepting to die alone and unloved.

Endure to the end and all that right?

Then I met someone. Also AMAB, at the time she was presenting as male. And we hit it off in that quiet way an aromantic does. Soft and never serious until you realize how much you actually care for this person. And I felt panic. Loving them was my first action that would have been directly against The Church.

It was a moment after a con, I think after day one. A local affair in Utah. I was sitting across from a friend who was eating cheap sushi with me. And we talked on religion. Somehow, we got onto Buddhism. And I have studied into it, and found that I liked a lot of what it was saying save "Attachment is suffering" and the posit that being attached to life and living is suffering. It also bothered me because I was suffering because of my attachments to both my partner and The Church. In my despair I confessed this annoyance to my friend who said plainly: "Well, think about it this way: What is worth the suffering?"

In that moment, I was enlightened. My lover was worth the suffering, even the implicit suffering of hell, more than The Church and all beliefs therein. From there I let go of The Church.

Or so I thought.

I recognized that I was still in the State of Utah, and had to balance being out of the wardhouse so to speak but still be mindful of everyone who'd look at me as enemy. I didn't want that. So I never really became vocal about leaving.

Until 2016. November, 2016. I'm certain ya'll can see why I did that.

But after becoming vocal, losing my friends who where Mormon, I still held onto some things. The image of the ungrateful apostate bothered me. I wanted to be doubt in the mind of the members. To just be that question that itched at the queer members' minds.

And I was, I policed my talking about The Church in public, I kept quiet and I was deft at that. That's how deep The Church had it's hold on me. I was more willing to be silent and quiet about that life than anything else.

For a while it worked.

I moved out of Utah in 2019. I'm on the West Coast now. It's been good. I've been surrounded by people who care for me, friends and found family who are amazing. I've been getting a degree I've wanted. I've found many more lovers, and love them deeply. And that brings me to now. 2022. When on a whim I search the Exmormon tag on Tumblr.

And again, I am enlightened.

I survived a cult. I survived so much abuse.

And it is freeing to say that.

There is no winning move in the Shellgame The Church has left me and those like me in. So fuck it. I'm letting go more now. I'm letting go of this paranoia, like I let go of the shame.

And to that end, thank you everyone here who has given me such a warm welcome. Thank you, it is amazing to know people who have gone through similar.

Should a Latter Day Saint read this, and feel fear I say in the words of Wu Zetian of the Iron Widow [Good book, go read it.]

art by: imanchukies

Should a Latter Day Saint read this and feel hope. Fight. Claw your way out and actually find a space to breathe. You deserve freedom.

#exmormon #exmo #ex mormon #apostake #ex lds

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flameohotwife · 3 years ago

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kataang 19 for the ask fluff T_T

19. "You know, I think my parents would be proud if I brought you home."

This *also* turned super long, and a little sad in parts though I still think (hope) it's adequately fluffy. I am apparently incapable of ficlets at this point. I'm sorry! Read here or on ao3. Rated G. 3k words.

Katara was freezing. She had only been gone from the Southern Water Tribe for a year and already she had forgotten how cold it was there. They had decided to take a quick trip to Katara’s home to officially tell her father they were together after finalizing the Harmony Restoration Movement in Ba Sing Se, and were quickly approaching the South Pole on Appa. She wrapped her parka more tightly around her, shivering.

“Aang, don’t worry,” Katara comforted from the saddle. Even from this distance she could see his nervous fidgeting. He gave Appa instructions and climbed back to join her and Sokka and Suki. Toph had just recently found her first metalbending student, and was not about to leave Yu Dao to go to “a block of ice I can’t see or bend on.” So the two couples journeyed southward, with a lot of talk of “oogies” from Sokka, a lot of snippy comments about the thinness of tent walls from Katara, and a lot of unsure glances from Aang and Suki.

“Yeah, Aang,” Sokka chimed in as the airbender settled in next to his girlfriend. His girlfriend! It still felt strange to call her that. It seemed too informal for all that she meant to him, but anything more would sound ridiculous coming out of a thirteen-year-old’s mouth. “Don’t worry about the tribe. They already love you, remember? The kids are just going to want a bunch of rides down Appa’s tail again.”

“Oh! They haven’t gotten to see him fly, yet!” Katara added excitedly.

“Plus, you’re the Avatar,” Suki said, rolling her eyes. “You stopped the hundred-year war! If that doesn’t endear you to everyone, I don’t know what will.” Suki rubbed her arms over the green parka Katara had made her, looking down uncomfortably.

“You helped, too, Suki,” Katara reasoned, leaning over to place a hand on her friend’s arm. “And Dad already knows you’re together and definitely approves. You helped break him out of prison!”

Suki smiled back at her in thanks while Sokka wrapped an arm around his girlfriend proudly. “The truth is,” he started, “Katara and I couldn’t have picked better people to pair off with, and the Southern Water Tribe has been starved for happiness for a long time, now. Neither of you have anything to worry about. They’ll be proud to know you. I bet there’ll even be a feast!” He rubbed his belly with his free hand.

“But, I let all those warriors get captured… on the Day of Black Sun,” Aang said. He had kept his guilt over that day to himself for so long, but Katara knew. She knew it had hung heavy on his heart since the moment she found him crying on Appa, and she knew that he needed to clear that pain away.

“Aang, look at me,” she said, taking his face in her hands. “The Fire Nation knew we were coming that day, but you couldn’t have known that. None of us did. We trust you as the Avatar and we trust you as Aang—that hasn’t changed. Warriors are led into danger all the time. That’s what they train for. Nobody blames you.”

Aang took a deep, clarifying breath. He tried to remember what Guru Pathik had told him about accepting the bad things that have happened and forgiving himself. He had to keep the pools of his chakras flowing, and while this guilt hadn’t accumulated to the point of blocking his water chakra, he knew it could if he didn’t keep it in check. He released his breath, feeling much warmer and more confident than he had a moment ago, and smiled at Katara.

“Thank you, Katara.” The way he looked at her caused her breath to catch; she still wasn’t used to the pure, unadulterated devotion in his eyes. Her heart swelled with it, and she went in for a hug.

She expected Sokka to call out “Oogies!” but he just sat back with his girlfriend and rolled his eyes. Her brother was much more used to these displays of affection than she gave him credit for, anyway. She had hugged and touched and even kissed Aang on the cheek so many times throughout their journey to end the war, and he hadn’t batted an eye. Kissing seemed to be what brought the cries of protest out, but even those seemed half-hearted the more he was forced to witness it.

Katara felt that telltale swoop in her stomach as Appa started his descent, and separated from Aang, grinning widely. They were here! She could hardly contain her excitement, and Aang fed off of it. He would do anything to make her happy. He jumped back to Appa’s head to steer him towards the center of the village.

The children who had been outside playing all gathered together when they saw the large shape of Appa in the sky. Some of them even recognized him—shouts of “It’s the sky bison! It’s Aang! It’s the Avatar!” could be heard as the group approached. The ensuing ruckus drew adults out of their huts as well. Katara noticed there were more snow huts than tents, now, probably thanks to Pakku and the benders he’d brought from the North when he sought out her grandmother, who was just joining the throng of people. She saw her father’s face among the crowd, as well, and her heart soared.

She and Sokka were leaning over the edge of the saddle, waving to everyone and sporting wide, toothy grins when they finally landed. As soon as Appa’s feet touched the snow they both jumped down, rushing to greet their family. Aang and Suki hung back a moment, unsure of their place, until Hakoda pulled back from his children to open his arms to them, smiling.

“It’s so good to see you Aang, Suki,” he said, embracing them all in a group hug. His voice was warm and strong and he hoped it was welcoming, too. Whatever his feelings about his kids growing up and moving on, he wanted their partners to feel safe and loved and cared for here.

When they all pulled back—some a little teary eyed from the reunion—they saw Kanna and Pakku making their way over. Gran Gran was smiling in a way Katara wasn’t sure she had ever seen before. She looked so happy. So at peace. She had lived her entire life in the war and had been the one to tell Katara (and Sokka, when he would listen) the stories about the Avatar when they were younger. Katara supposed this all must be like a dream come true for her as well. She hugged each member of the group in turn.

“It’s good to see you again, young airbender,” she said to Aang, before turning to Suki and the others. “And it’s wonderful to meet you, Suki. Pakku tells me you’re quite the warrior, from what he could tell while you all were camped outside Ba Sing Se. I’m so proud of all of you for stopping this war.”

They seemed to remember the rest of the village was watching them, and Hakoda cleared his throat. The kids stopped playing on Appa’s tail to listen to their Chief.

“Everyone! Sokka and Katara are home and they’ve brought guests!” he started. His voice boomed powerfully across the ice. “I’d like you to meet Suki of the Kyoshi Warriors, and of course you all have met Avatar Aang and his bison already.” There was some applause and squeals from the children, and Aang blushed and waved. “I think this calls for a celebration. Let’s feast in the new council lodge tonight!”

“I told you,” Sokka whispered to Aang. Aang chuckled in return as the crowd cheered once more before returning to their business. Hakoda invited them all into his hut and they sat down in front of the fire with some tea, along with Gran Gran and Pakku.

“So, Dad, there’s actually a reason we came down here,” Katara opened once they were all settled on cushions around the low, circular table. She was sitting between Aang and Suki, and her father was directly across from her, flanked by Sokka and Gran Gran. Pakku sipped his tea observantly between Aang and Kanna. “Aang and I…” She grabbed his hand under the table. No matter how confident she was in their relationship, she’d never had to announce a new relationship to her family before. She felt sure she’d never have to, again. “We’re together, now.”

Hakoda smiled. Kanna beamed. Pakku looked like he had accidentally swallowed the bitter leaves of his tea, but Katara ignored him; he always looked that way.

Hakoda was the first to speak. “I figured this would happen eventually,” he said, laughing when both Aang and Katara looked somewhat shocked. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. And the way Katara was so protective of you, Aang, when you were in a coma...and her heartbreak when you left? I knew there was more than just friendship going on, even if Katara was too hard-headed to admit it.”

“Hey!” Katara protested.

“He’s not wrong,” Sokka spoke up. “You were the one who kept putting it off. Even after Aang kissed you at the Invasion…”

“You knew about that?!” Aang asked, flabbergasted.

“Toph told me,” he shrugged. “The subs were made of metal… she could feel it.” Sokka shuddered.

Both Aang and Katara were as red as tomato-carrots at this point, but Kanna actually laughed.

“Do you remember what I told you when you left the South Pole?” she asked, speaking to her grandchildren.

“Yeah, yeah, something about it being our destiny to help Aang, I think,” Sokka answered.

“You said…” Katara gasped, eyes wide. “You said our ‘destinies are intertwined with his.’” She looked at Aang, smiling. “I thought it was just about ending the war, but…”

“I also called him your boyfriend, that day, if you’ll remember,” Sokka pointed out. “You denied it then, but face it, Katara. You were already smitten from the day we met Aang.”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “I was.” The blush was even higher on her cheeks, now. Aang looked as though someone had just granted him his biggest wishes: a mixture of surprise and glee covered his face as he looked at her. He squeezed her hand under the table, not completely sure she was still real; that this wasn’t a dream. Katara had really liked him for as long as he’d liked her?

“It was the same for me and Suki,” Sokka continued on. “The moment she beat me...again... in that dojo on Kyoshi Island, I knew.”

“Awww, Sokka,” Suki cooed.

“I mean, any girl who can take down a Water Tribe warrior is girlfriend material, am I right?”

Everyone at the table exchanged glances before simultaneously rolling their eyes and laughing. It was so good to be around family again, Katara thought. But what was even better was that she still felt at home and comfortable—maybe even moreso—with Aang there by her side. She could see him at future family gatherings, see him as an adult, proudly holding their child at the Solstice Festival in the South, comfortably talking with everyone from the children to the elders. It filled her with warmth, and she pressed her shoulder into his as the conversation went on well into the afternoon.

That evening, after the feast, there was dancing. It was different from the dancing they had done before, in the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom. Katara and Sokka, along with the rest of the tribe spent much of the evening laughing and teaching Aang and Suki to dance in the Water Tribe way, readjusting their form, feeling the heavy beat of the drums; the qilaut.

At one point Aang and Katara stumbled outside for some air, clutching their stomachs which were beginning to ache from so much merriment. They sat back in a snowbank, arms around each other, watching the stars twinkling in silent chorus above them, taking comfort in each other’s presence.

“You know,” Aang said after a time, “I think my parents would be proud if I brought you home. Would’ve been proud, I guess. Gyatso, too. We could have celebrated and eaten fruit pies and sang and danced at the temples...” Katara looked up at him, expecting to see the grief and sadness etched in his face that was so often there when he spoke of his people, but he looked...wistful. Like he was perhaps picturing such a reunion, and her heart ached for all that he had lost. She had never even heard him mention his parents before. “Being here, around your family and your tribe… it’s been so wonderful, Katara.”

She wrapped her arms tighter around his waist, pulling him ever closer. She kept her sapphire eyes focused on the light flickering out from the lodge behind him, feeling like perhaps this next thought was too much, but she wanted to open it up to him. To be there for him in the same way he’s been there for her for so long. “We could visit the Air Temples,” she suggested, quietly. “I know the other Air Nomads are gone… and it might be… sadder. A lot less celebratory. But… I’d like to visit your home again now that the war’s over. I’d like to learn your dances. Learn about your people.”

They turned to each other then, both their eyes sparkling in the starlight. “I’d like that,” Aang whispered as a tear escaped him with a choked sob.

“Hey, Sweetie,” Katara comforted, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek. She realized that in the few months since the end of the war—probably actually since she’d broken him out of the iceberg—he hadn’t had the chance to really be. To reflect. To grieve. “It’s okay to be sad, you know? To miss them. You’re not alone though. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

Aang clung to her then, letting his feelings flow. They listened to the sound of the drums inside, and she rocked him, whispering how strong he was, how amazing it was that he’d found a way to end the war that was still true to himself; to his people. How proud they would be. How proud she was.

Eventually, he lifted his head from her shoulder to kiss her slowly, tentatively. He was still mostly letting her take the lead in their physical relationship, but he couldn’t think of any other way to thank her then. No words seemed sufficient. His hesitance melted away the moment she moved her lips against his, though. His hands gripped her waist as best he could in their sitting position before moving to thread into her hair. He could feel his heart starting to beat just a little too fast. He felt lightheaded, but in a good way. He pulled back for a breath, and they both giggled. Kissing was still new, but something they both clearly enjoyed finally being able to do together.

“You called me ‘Sweetie,’” he said, realizing. She’d never called him anything other than Aang before. His heart fluttered.

“Is that okay? Sorry, I didn’t even realize…” Katara was pulling at her hair and looking anywhere but at Aang until he stopped her with another kiss, though it was much quicker this time.

“I loved it, Sweetie,” he teased back, but somehow it felt like the most natural thing in the world to call her.

“My mom used to call me that,” she admitted, shyly. “I don’t know why it just came out when I was talking to you…”

“Did I ever tell you what the guru told me about love?” Aang asked. Katara shook her head, confused. “He told me that ‘love is a form of energy,’ and that the airbenders’ love for me hasn’t left this world, but was reborn in new love.” He looked pointedly at her. “Our love.”

Katara took in a sharp breath. She felt at once shocked, humbled, and overflowing with pure, confident love. Sokka certainly wouldn’t believe it, but it made so much sense to her. The instant connection she had felt… the fierce need to protect him… her intense love for him that was as big as an entire nation. She couldn’t help but smile widely.

“Maybe...” Aang started. “Maybe your mom’s love for you was reborn, too.” It seemed like such an outrageous thing to say, but at the same time, like the most obvious thing in the world. The look in her eyes told him all he needed to know. She believed it, too. “I love you, Katara.”

“I love you too, Aang. So much.” She leaned in to kiss him again, feeling like nothing could quite top this feeling. They’d said ‘I love you’ so many times in so many ways; in small gestures, in touches, in roundabout ways, even before they’d been together. But this… this seemed much bigger.

Finally, they stood to return to the celebration. Surely people had noticed their absence by now, though they were thankfully still young enough to avoid any terribly embarrassing rumors. As they walked back to the hall, hand in hand, they shared a look before opening the door.

“Ready, Sweetie?” Aang asked, eyes shining with pure joy.

“Ready, Sweetie,” Katara responded confidently. She squeezed his hand before pulling him inside with her, already moving to the beat of the drums again. Their hearts were so full. Their lost loved ones were never truly gone from this world, and they would cherish that fact for the rest of their lives together. Even in their grief they were connected, and by their love they were healed. It was beautiful.

#kataang #kataangtag #fluff prompts #vanillabutspicy #asks #the guru episode #katara #aang #kataang fanfiction #sweeties #meet the family

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years ago

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Specs and the Flyboy (Chapter Nineteen-Part Three)

Summary: (Y/N), Jack and their friends finally face off against Leviathan and the Secret Empire.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Ya girl wrote this while dealing with sleep deprivation, cramps and the after effects of the vaccine, so I hope it’s good ‘cause at this point I can’t even tell lol Thank you all so much for reading! I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Nineteen (Part III) Leviathan’s Weapons Facility, Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic (Previous Chapter)

While the two of them were ushered down the staircase that led into the crate-filled warehouse by Michael and Dottie, (Y/N)’s mind raced as she struggled to think of a way out of their current conundrum. I’ve been in plenty of tough scrapes before but even I’ll admit that this one’s the toughest one yet, she thought to herself, her eyes rapidly scanning the large room; there were large, frost-covered windows towards the ceiling, several boarded-up skylights and the two metal doors she spotted were both guarded by Leviathan soldiers. By the time they reached the base of the stairs, (Y/N) had counted a total of twenty armed enemy operatives – seventeen Leviathan guards, Attwell, Underwood and Michael Carter – and from the brief glimpse she’d gotten of their friends hidden behind a stack of crates, it looked as though both Pinkerton and Sawyer were badly injured and the others were trying to bandage their blood-soaked wounds. So, we’re out-gunned and out-numbered, she concluded with a sinking feeling as she bit her lip in worry.

“So, Chief Thompson did survive his daring escape!” Attwell grinned, walking out into the empty space amidst the crates and standing before the two of them. “Truth be told, I was hoping that we’d meet again; I detest leaving loose ends, and killing the SSR’s golden boy once and for all would’ve been a genuine pleasure.”

Beside (Y/N), Jack’s shoulders tensed but he tilted his head to the side in mock contemplation. “What, you couldn’t do it without your Leviathan goons backing you up? What a real tough guy.”

Attwell’s fist quickly connected with Jack’s stomach and when he doubled over in pain, the man struck him across the face and sent him sprawling to the ground. “Stop it!” (Y/N) started towards her partner but the sudden feeling of a pistol barrel against the back of her neck stopped her cold; tearing her eyes away from Jack, she met Attwell’s gaze and struggled to keep her voice steady as she spoke, “He’s not the one who’s screwing up your deal with Leviathan, I am.”

“Of course, of course, the infamous codebreaker.” Attwell stepped closer but she held her ground, raising her chin in defiance and refusing to look away despite how uncomfortable his stare made her feel. After a tension-filled moment, his face broke out into a stomach-churning smirk. “It’s a shame that such promising talent’s being squandered by the SSR, by those who dismiss and condescend you at every turn. I was very much like you before joining Hydra; I was overshadowed at Cambridge by my perfect older brother and his two brilliant flatmates; while William, Michael and Adam flourished in their respective fields of study, I floundered and was subsequently expelled but as luck would have it, I was approached by Hydra and offered a chance to unlock my true potential; and here I stand before you, Agent (Y/L/N), to offer you that very-same chance. With the new Leviathan, your immeasurable skills would not only be recognized but they’d also be celebrated. You and Michael could work side-by-side in our efforts to break through as the world’s leading superpower and once we achieve our goal of fully weaponizing Zodiac, Agent (Y/L/N), you’ll have everything you’ve ever truly desired.”

Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) noticed Jack’s hand resting on his waist and while Attwell talked, her partner’s index finger had tapped away. It only took her seconds to realize he was sending out a message in Morse Code on the walkie-talkie still clipped onto his belt and once she did, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

“You know, it’s a good thing you’re decent at codebreaking, Specs, ‘cause you’d make a pretty shit spy. You fidget too much.”

If Jack can think up an off-the-cuff plan to get us out of this mess then I can buy us all a little time by being a good spy, she thought with resolve just as Attwell finished up his speech. Taking a page out of her partner’s book, (Y/N) raised an incredulous brow at the man as the corner of her mouth curled into a humorless smile. “There was a time when I would’ve given just about anything for people to recognize me and my skills, to appreciate just how hard I’ve worked to get where I am today. But then I grew up and realized that the only person whose appreciation I needed was my own. Mr. Attwell, I don’t need to be celebrated or appreciated by anyone, but especially not by a pathetic imitation of the Red Skull.”

The man’s expression instantly grew cold at the comparison. “Then it would seem that you’re of no use to us.” His gaze shifted to look at whoever was holding her at gunpoint and he nodded. “Shoot her, Michael.”

“Stop!” All of them looked over just as Peggy jumped out from behind their makeshift barricade with her rifle pointed directly at Attwell. “I’ll give you the key.”

“Peggy, no!” The barrel of the pistol pressed harder into (Y/N)’s neck and she winced in pain. However, her horror was quickly replaced with dawning comprehension when Peggy flashed her a pointed look before briefly glancing in Jack’s direction. She knows about whatever Jack’s planning, she silently realized, playing along with her old friend’s ruse by rearranging her features into a look of righteous indignation.

Moving to stand beside Attwell, Dottie raised the hand that wasn’t holding her rifle and gave the younger woman a small wave. “Hiya, Peggy. You know, you really should’ve listened to me back in New York; I told you there were currencies in the world stronger than money. I practically spelled all of this out for you! But the great Peggy Carter couldn’t figure it all out on her own, so she needed the help of…” Dottie turned to (Y/N) with a frown. “What’re those revolting nicknames you call each-? Oh, never mind, I don’t want to know.” Turning back to Peggy, the spy shrugged. “Well, I suppose not everyone’s perfect, are they?”

“No, they’re certainly not.” Attwell agreed, gesturing with his head for Peggy to lower her weapon and holding out his hand once she’d set it on the ground. “No tricks, Agent Carter. The key, and you and your friends are free to go; it appears that at least one of them is in need of medical attention, so I’d be quick about it if I were you.” When Peggy’s eyes flicked over to where Michael was standing behind (Y/N), Attwell chuckled darkly and shook his head. “No, I don’t think dear old Michael’s going anywhere but by all means, Agent, go ahead and ask him if you don’t believe me.”

For the first time since they were ushered into the warehouse, Peggy looked directly at her older brother. Her hardened expression slipped and for the briefest of moments, (Y/N) recognized the vulnerable young woman she’d known all those years ago at Bletchley Park who mourned her beloved brother’s death. While her lower lip trembled, Peggy finally addressed Michael. “Not too long ago, I had a dream about you and you told me that you’d be right alongside me if you could. I didn’t believe it was possible, even when (Y/N) and Jack told me it was, but now we have a second chance at being a family again. Michael, you can finally come home.” She blinked away her tears and gave him the ghost of an encouraging smile. “Please, Michael, come home with me.”

(Y/N) could feel the pressure on her neck ease up but just as she was beginning to think that Peggy had succeeded in getting through to him, Michael coolly replied, “This is my family, Agent, the only family I have in this world.”

Peggy’s face crumpled as Attwell laughed in amusement. “I told you so! Now, the key for your friends.”

God, I hope that whatever Jack’s planning happens sooner rather than later, (Y/N) silently prayed, sucking in a breath while the younger woman approached Attwell. Once Peggy reached into her pocket and withdrew the familiar Arena Club pin, the man looked over at Dottie and gave her a nod; the spy slung the strap of her rifle over her shoulder and made her way over to one of the many wooden crates near them, kicking the lid off of it and lifting a small metal box out of the loose excelsior. The box looked innocent enough but as Dottie walked it over to Attwell, (Y/N)’s blood ran cold and she knew that the moment Peggy handed over that key, Leviathan would possess one of the world’s deadliest weapons and they’ll have lost.

“Get up, Chief Thompson,” Michael barked and while Jack got to his feet, (Y/N) was roughly pushed towards him. “And you, stand over there with him.”

(Y/N) did as he said, standing beside Jack and keeping her eyes on the scene unfolding before them as she murmured, “You okay?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Peachy-keen.” She watched Dottie hand the metal box over to Attwell, her anxiety steadily building within her while he examined the box’s intricate lock. “Are you going to fill me in on the plan or what?”

The corner of Jack’s mouth curled upwards and he quietly replied, “Patience is a virtue, Specs, just be ready for it.”

“Be ready for wha-?”

Just then as Peggy’s hand stretched out to give Attwell the Arena Club pin, the warehouse wall opposite them exploded. Rubble and splintered pieces of crates flew through the air but before (Y/N) could fully react, gunfire broke out all around them. Amidst the chaos, Jack latched onto (Y/N)’s hand and ran, yanking her behind the nearest tower of crates as bullets whizzed past their heads; both of them crouched on the ground and peeked around the wooden crates, and her eyes widened in amazement at what she saw. The explosion that had knocked down part of the warehouse wall hadn’t been an explosion at all but rather one of the Howlies’ trucks and as (Y/N) watched, Daniel and Henry used the truck’s doors as barriers while they exchanged fire with the Leviathan guards. Moments later, she spotted Peggy dart out from one of the aisles to join her boyfriend behind the open truck door.

“Wa-Hoo!”

Dugan’s deafening war cry from across the warehouse was punctuated by a fresh barrage of gunfire, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but revel at the familiarity of it all; her eyes were suddenly drawn to two men sprinting down the aisle towards her and Jack, and it took her a tense moment to recognize them through all the chaos.

“There you guys are!” Howard exclaimed before ducking down beside them, followed closely by an anxious-looking Edwin Jarvis. Reaching into the satchel that was slung over his shoulders, the inventor withdrew two handguns and offered the weapons to them. “You know, you two’ve got a real habit of gettin’ into trouble…”

Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Says the man who was mind-controlled into almost gassing all of New York last year.” Springing up, he fired off several shots before ducking back down. “How’re we looking, Jarvis?”

“Well, Chief Sousa’s dramatic entrance provided enough of a distraction for Mr. Fieldman to escort Mr. Pinkerton and Mr. Sawyer out the front; their wounds aren’t life-threatening, but Mr. Fieldman promised he’d help treat them once they reach the clearing.” The butler set another satchel on the ground in front of them. “And we’ve brought more guns and ammunition, as per your request.”

“You know, Thompson, you said in your message that you needed a big diversion, but that whole entrance was my idea; I actually took it from one of my studio’s newest scripts, where a gangster steals-”

“Of course, Mr. Stark, your genius knows no bounds.” Edwin hurriedly interrupted the inventor’s rambling, glancing over at (Y/N) with his brow furrowed in worry. “And have you broken Mr. Carter out of his brainwashing? Where is he?”

Looking around the edge of the crate, (Y/N)’s heart dropped when noticed that several important people were missing from the gunfight. “Where the hell did they go, Jack?”

Jack craned his neck to see what she was looking at and swore loudly. “Shit, I-wait, they’re on the stairs!” By the time (Y/N) spotted them, Attwell, Dottie and Michael had reached the top of the stairs and had disappeared around the corner. “Jarvis, stay here with Stark and cover us, then go help the others.” Edwin nodded and her partner turned towards her, his blue eyes scanning her face for any signs of trepidation as he asked, “Are you ready, Specs?”

“As I’ll ever be,” (Y/N) pulled an extra ammunition magazine out of the satchel and tucked it into her pocket before giving Jack a determined nod. “Let’s finish this once and for all, Flyboy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Compared to the chaotic warehouse they’d come from, the rest of the facility was eerily silent and it wasn’t at-all difficult to follow the footsteps of the fleeing trio through the deserted hallways.

“You know that this is probably a trap, right?”

“Naturally.”

“Good. Just wanted to make sure that we’re both on the same page.”

Before (Y/N) could get another word in, a figure she soon recognized as Dottie dropped down from above them and began attacking; the spy kicked the guns out of their hands, ramming her knee into (Y/N)’s stomach and knocking the wind out of her before spinning and using her leg to slam Jack into the wall beside them. (Y/N) took advantage of Dottie’s momentary distraction and aimed a side-kick at her thigh, but the spy merely turned her sharp fall into a somersault; she stood and threw a punch that (Y/N) was quick to duck, and then she grabbed the spy’s extended arm with the intent of wrenching it behind her back. Dottie predicted the move, yanking her arm free only to wrap her hand around her throat and roughly shove her back against the wall.

The back of (Y/N)’s head erupted into a sharp pain while Dottie flashed her a condescending smile. “I already told you, you’re too easy! It’s almost pathetic to see you try so hard to be as good as Peggy.”

“Don’t need to be as good as Peggy,” (Y/N) choked out as the fingers around her throat tightened. “Just…just good enough to keep you distracted.”

Dottie frowned in confusion and that’s when Jack slammed the butt of his gun against the back of her head. The spy tumbled to the ground in an unconscious heap and (Y/N) doubled over, her hands firmly clutching her knees as she coughed and gasped for air. “(Y/N), you okay?” She nodded and allowed Jack to take hold of her shoulders, his soothing encouragements helping her finally regain her breath; once he was sure that she was fine, her partner handed over her dropped gun and rested his hand against the small of her back to urge her forward. “C’mon, let’s go…”

They left the motionless spy behind and continued down the hallway, turning the corner and finding themselves at the entrance of a dimly-lit boiler room. Beside (Y/N), Jack shuddered and she recalled the story he’d told her of the mission he and Peggy had conducted to investigate one of Leviathan’s training facilities; she nudged him with her elbow and gave him a brief smile, wishing that she could offer him more comfort but not wanting to distract them both from their mission. Jack nodded as if to say he was fine, but his shoulders remained tense while he silently gestured for her to go left into the room while he went right.

(Y/N) crept behind the various boilers and pipes, careful not to slip on the slick ground as she did. If I end up surviving all this, I think I’m going to sleep for a week straight, she thought to herself, her heart rate steadily increasing with each step she took. While she edged herself around another heavy piece of industrial furnacing, she found herself trying to think of how to break Michael out of his mind-control long enough to save him; Jack insisted that cognitive re-calibration was the only way but after being present for Peggy and Michael’s reunion, she wondered if reminding him of his past or even recent actions would also do the trick. But a sharp skid noise right behind her made her forget her train of thought and turn, dodging the knife just in time.

“You really should’ve taken my offer, Agent (Y/L/N),” Attwell spat out, slashing at her with the knife again and forcing her to stumble back into the center aisle of the boiler room; the blade sliced against her forearm and she stifled her cry of pain, dropping her gun and leaping out of the way as he aimed for her again. “Soon, you and your foolish friends will be dead and Leviathan will have more power than you could possibly imagine!”

“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own damn voice?” (Y/N) retorted, her hand shooting out and twisting the red-colored knob beside them; a pipe next to Attwell spewed out pressurized steam and he let out a shriek of pain as the steam enveloped the right side of his face. Not wanting to stick around, she turned and sprinted further into the vast room, a part of her hoping that she’d bought herself enough time to save Michael. Skidding around a corner, she was immediately met with the sight of Jack and Michael engaged in a vicious fight on the floor; her partner was trying to wrestle something out of the other man’s closed fist, but he was so preoccupied with his task that he didn’t see Michael’s other hand brush the handle of a nearby gun. (Y/N) kicked the gun away from him, pinning his shoulder to the ground with her knee and spoke the first thing that came to mind. “Visions, light, cheered, night, dream!”

As she finished reciting the five words he’d used to encode his final message to Peggy, something shifted in Michael’s dark eyes and his clenched fist relaxed, allowing Jack to snatch the Arena Club pin from him. Before any of them could say or do anything more, a fiery ache erupted along her shoulder blade and she cried out in pain as she pitched forward. “(Y/N)!” Jack looped his arms underneath hers and dragged her over to half-lean against a pipe; her vision was partially clouded by the pain, but she could still make out the bloody knife he’d just pulled out of her upper back and tossed onto the ground beside them. “No, no, don’t look at that, just keep your eyes on me!” He pressed his trembling hand tight against the wound and when she nearly whimpered, he held the side of her face with the other and frantically nodded, his blue eyes steadily filling with panic that he struggled to control. “I-I know it hurts, baby, but I have to keep pressure on it; it’s not very deep, but I can’t have you fainting right now so keep your eyes on me, c’mon-”

“How touching,” Both of them looked up to see Attwell and Michael standing before them, the former with a self-satisfied smirk on his half-seared face and the latter staring stonily down at them. “Let’s make a new deal, Chief Thompson: Give me the key, and I won’t let Agent (Y/L/N) slowly bleed out on the floor of this boiler room.”

“Bastard.” Jack spat back, but his hand left (Y/N)’s face long enough to retrieve the Arena Club pin from his pocket and throw it into Attwell’s waiting hand. “You better start lookin’ over your shoulder now, Attwell, ‘cause I won’t rest until I kill you myself.”

Attwell shrugged and ran his fingers over the pin, twisting it sharply to convert it into a key. “Such fiery attitude in the face of doom was precisely why I was looking forward to killing you. But then I realized, forcing a man like you to live with your mistakes is a far worse punishment than death; and to make this victory sweeter, I plan on unlocking Zodiac in front of you both, so you can see just how spectacularly you failed yourselves, your agency and your country.” He turned to Michael with his brow raised in expectation. “Are you ready to make history, old chap?”

Michael nodded. “Of course…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the metal box containing Zodiac; (Y/N) tried getting up, unwilling to sit back and let Leviathan win, but Jack’s strong arms held her in place against him. When she met his gaze, he gave her a barely-discernible head shake and with her jaw clenched tight, she watched Attwell push the key into the lock and turn it clockwise; the lid popped open and the man breathed a sigh of relief, reaching into the slightly-smoking box and holding an electric-blue colored vial with strange etchings carved into the glass.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? So much potential for war and destruction, and it fits within the palm of my hand.” Attwell looked up at Michael and continued, “My brother never appreciated such things, you know. He never truly appreciated you, either; once you were found out to be a deep-cover spy for the SOE, I saw an opportunity to mold you into the person you were always meant to be. Do you remember the first thing I told you after you came out of Hydra’s operating room?”

Michael’s hardened expression faltered, almost as if he was struggling to control his actions, and in an instant, he drew his gun and shot Attwell directly in the chest. There were tears in his eyes as he finally replied, “‘Michael, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’”

The box and the vial slipped out of the dying man’s hands and as he began to sway dangerously on his feet, (Y/N) lunged forward and caught both in her hands before they could hit the ground. While Attwell’s lifeless body collapsed to the ground in a heap, she and Jack hurriedly placed the deadly Zodiac back into the box and slammed the lid closed; she let out a shaky breath, unable to grasp everything that had just happened. Michael dropped to his knees, tossing his gun to the side and rubbing his head with one hand; still mindful of her now-oozing wound, Jack held her a little closer as they both warily watched the unsteady man turn away from Attwell’s body to look at them. “I-It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Agent (Y/L/N). I’m Michael Carter, SOE.”

A smile slowly stretched across (Y/N)’s face and a sense of relief was beginning to wash over her as a familiar voice called throughout the boiler room. “(Y/N)? Jack?”

“We’re back here, (Y/N) needs some medical attention but we’re okay!” Jack called back, meeting (Y/N)’s gaze and flashing her a lopsided grin. “You’re gonna be fine, Specs, you hear me?” With a relieved chuckle, Jack leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her sweat-covered brow before resting his cheek on the top of her head. “We’re all gonna be fine.”

“Hey!” The first person who rounded the corner was Daniel, whose gun was already at the ready when he pointed it at Michael. “Hey, get the hell away from them!”

Jack held out a placating hand to the chief. “Easy, Danny Boy, he’s good right now; he’s the one who killed Attwell.”

Lowering his gun, Daniel limped over to where they sat against the pipe and knelt down as best he could to examine her knife wound. “Looks like the knife missed everything important, thank goodness. What the hell happened down here?”

Jack detailed everything they’d dealt with after hurrying out of the warehouse as their friends joined them; Edwin began treating her various wounds with Henry’s assistance, Howard carefully stowed the box containing Zodiac and its key into a satchel and Dugan worked on locating a weak point in the wall to blow a quick exit for them. There was a flurry of voices and activity surrounding (Y/N), but all her attention was on Peggy and Michael; they were talking to each other in low tones, Michael looking heartbreakingly unsure and Peggy trying her hardest not to cry, until they both surged forward and hugged one another. For the second time that day, (Y/N) was reminded of Freddie but while she watched the Carter siblings finally reunite, she didn’t feel sadness or envy, but rather pride. She was proud of herself, for having helped stop Leviathan’s plans and for having made-do on her promise to reunite her oldest and dearest friend with her beloved brother. If anyone deserves a second chance at happiness it’s those two, she thought to herself, taking a deep breath and resting her head against Jack’s strong shoulder.

They did it.

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A/N: Only one more chapter left!! Like I said, idk how I feel about this chapter as a whole so I’m sorry if there’s mistakes/it’s bad, but next week’s is gonna be great! Thank you guys so much for reading! If you haven’t checked it out yet, I created a Spotify playlist for this series and it’s linked down below!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21pWY7OiMFj8LaYpxhtVtW

Chapter Twenty

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular

#jack thompson x reader #agent carter #jack thompson #peggy carter #daniel sousa #howard stark #edwin jarvis #dum dum dugan #pinky pinkerton #happy sam sawyer #the howling commandos #michael carter #dottie underwood #marvel cinematic universe #strategic scientific reserve

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placebogirl7 · 3 years ago

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Kinoshita: Ren's assistant and "voice of conscience"

I decided to make an analysis about one of the most underrated character in Nana (also because he doesn't appear that much) but who I appreciate so much. Prepare yourself for a very long post to read because my beloved Kinoshita deserves it! ;) Kinoshita has been introduced as Ren assistant: his role is to drive Ren home when he's too tired, to remind him his schedule, to help him with whatever he needs. Kinoshita is also a big fan of Ren, so he's excited to have the opportunity to work with his idol. When we first see him in the manga, he's driving Ren home after a long day work. He's fashinated about Ren's expensive car and when Ren tells him that it's just a car and he doesn't matter about apprearance unlike Takumi, Kinoshita says to him that he's very talented and rich but he's not ambitious despite this. He also says that he let Takumi have control even his music and that it's when he plays punk music that he gives is best. Kinoshita is firmly convinced that Ren soul belongs to punk and that's the kind of music he should do. Probably in the old days he would have been a huge fan of former Blast! XD He sees the potential of Ren and he's aware that Takumi is "suppressing" it asking him to write songs more suitable for Reira's voice (which is definitely not punk).

At first Ren laughs about Kinoshita's words, because they just seems the words of an excited fan, but later he realized that maybe those words werent' that stupid. In fact, during a talk with Takumi, the latter says something that immediately make Ren remind of Kinoshita. Takumi basically confirmed what Kinoshita himself said before: Ren shows his best when he act like a rebel punk and he plays punk music. Can we just spend one minute looking at Ren's face expression in the last image of the panel below? He's smiling, but there's a sad expression on his face after he realized that Kinoshita's words were right. I think in that moment Ren realized what he had left behind and the fact that he's not free as he was in the past. He has to play the role of Trapnest's guitarist and he can't be anymore just Ren Honjo. Suddenly Takumi's kingdom was not so bright anymore compared to his own one little kingdom he abandoned.

So we can say that Kinoshita is the first one who really realized Ren's real potential and he has no fear to tell him directly.

Another thing that I appreciate about Kinoshita is exactly that he doesn't have fear to tell what he thinks and he has the courage to do it even about Takumi. Despite his evident bad attitude, nobody in Cookie staff has the courage to rebel against Takumi: they just wait for hsi orders and obey to them even if they don't agree. But one day, while talking to Ren, Kinoshita finally expresses what in my opinion is the thought of everyone: they are just little soldiers at the service of Takumi. He respects him and he recognize that he's an excellent business man, but he's not good when it comes to treat people in a decent way. He lacks of empathy and of other things on a human level. Even if Ren doesn't seem to appreciate this, I think Kinoshita was totally right and also I love how he feels at ease to confess to Ren his thoughts and opinion: he doesn't seem to simply consider Ren as an idol or a person he has to take care of but as a sort of friend to whom he can feel free to talk.

Later in the story, Kinoshita starts to re-evaluate Takumi after he found a solution to stop the scandal between Ren and Reira. He understands that Takumi actually cares about the band and its members and he carefully thinks about everything to avoid bad situations or loss that may bring damages to Cookie Music. Also, he doesn't see himself anymore only as Ren's assistant (like he has done until that moment) but he starts to see himself as a "vassal" of Trapnest, embracing Takumi's vision that he had criticized before. Ren is very happy to know that, look at his smile.

And now let's talk about Ren's drug addiction and how Kinoshita reacts to that. Of course Kinoshita knows about Ren's problem but he also knows he can't do a lot to be helpful. When Ren tries to get rid of all the cocaine he has but then starts to suffer from withdrawal, while they are driving to Cookie Music, Kinoshita notices that Ren doesn't feel good at all and tries to convince him to go to the hospital instead of going to work. Ren won't listen to reasons and yell at him to bring him at Cookie Music (knowing that Narita will give him drug). In the end Kinoshita obey to his order, but since he's really worried and not satisfied he later decided to call Takumi and inform him about Ren's conditions. Despite he doesn't like Takumi, he knows that he's the only one he can ask for help because Takumi has something he lack of: the power to find a solution even to the most complicated things. The binomial hate-admiration that Kinoshita has for Takumi is evident from the beginning to the end of the serie. I won't put images of the above mentioned scenes because Tumblr allows you to put only 10 images per post and I need to reserve the space for other images of more important scenes, but I'm sure you all remeber both the scenes I mentioned.

Another thing I want to point out is Kinoshita's vision about Nana and Ren's relationship. We can say that he has always been very considerate about their relationship and he never doubted even for a second that Nana wasn't sincere about Ren. He had understood from Ren that they truly loves each other and he sincerely wanted them to stay together. The little panel below is an example of this: Nana and Ren were having hard times and they rarely met each other. They had just found a new house but they couldn't spend time together in it and Kinoshita seemed to be very sorry because he saw how much Ren needed to stay with her.

Another scene were he demonstrates he cares for Nana and Ren's relationship is when Search publish that scandalous article and all the media start to talk about this, inventing fake things. Ren doesn't say a word and Kinoshita encourages him to do what he want, telling him that if he wants to spend good words about his girlfriend in front of the reporters, he won't prevent him from doing it. He says to Ren "follow what your heart tells you to do", which is the same thing that Yasu himself had told him in the bathroom during the Trapnest Vs. Blast show, when they spoke about Ren's drug addiction and Nana's hyperventilation attacks. Again, Kinoshita is acting like a supportive friend to Ren and not only as a mere assistant. When Ren refuses to do it and defines his old band members and friends (including his girlfriend) "old thrown away partner", Kinoshita seems shocked by that reaction. I personally was shocked too when I read it, because Ren really acted like a jerk in that moment. He put his career and Trapnest above his love and realtionship and friends, acting like Takumi would have acted, and so for Kinoshita (who in that moment still didn't appreciate Takumi for this) it must have been disappointing to see him acting in that cold way towards his lover and friends who were being accused.

Later, while Trapnest are in London, Ren realises that he acted like he didn't care and he reminds of Kinoshita's words (exactly like it happened when he told him he gave his best when he played punk music).

When Ren and Nana separate and Ren refuses to go fetch her because he feels ashamed to meet her and tell her about his drug addiction, Kinoshita takes the initiative and decide that if Ren needs to be encouraged to go to Nana, then he will be the person who will encourage him. He knows that Ren needs Nana and he hopes that reuniting with her could help him to feel better and convince him to stop taking drugs. While they are in Ren's car driving towards Cookie Music and Ren is talking about this with Hachi on the phone, Kinoshita asks him where Nana is in that moment and when he answers "Osaka", Kinoshita immediately change direction and starts to drive towards Osaka.

Again Kinoshita brings out his rebel side and affirms that he can't do what the staff expect him to do or follow Takumi's orders: he's convinced that he's doing the right thing (and he was definitely doing it in my opinion). He blames again Takumi and his way of handling the situation, knowing that what Ren needs is professional help and a break to recover, but Ren suddenly brings out the reality of the fact: he's not disappointed by Takumi or the staff, he's disappointed by him, his own hero, the idol he estimates so much. Kinoshita doesn't know what to answer, he doesn't want to hurt Ren and probably he doesn't want to admit to himself that Ren is right. In the last scene of the panel below, Kinoshita's expression is very sad because he realized that there's nothing he can do anymore to help Ren. He did his best but he failed. I think it must have been hard for him to realize that.

I think we can make a comparison here: Kinoshita has always idealized Ren exactly as Nobu did. They both saw Ren has an invincible hero, a perfect creature to admire and they wish to be like him, but then they realized that not all that glitters is gold and that Ren wasn't as perfect as they saw him. He was actually more fragile then them and they feel powerless because they knew they couldn't do anything to help him. When you idealize a person so much and then you discover that person isn't as you saw him/her, then you feel disappointed and that's what happened to both Kinoshita and Nobu.

Last but not least, after Ren's death Kinoshita tries his best to complete what Ren has left incomplete. His thoughts aren't for Trapnest's future or Cookie Music or for his work: his thoughts are for Nana, just like the last thoughts of Ren were. Kinoshita's mission is to be a sort of "emissary" who has to bring to Nana the feelings Ren was going to express her, his last words, his thoughts for her. The scene below is so sad but I love it, it's one of my favorite in the manga. Looking at Kinoshita crying while saying that "Please, accept it" breaks my heart evry time. He's literally begging Nana to take that present which Ren wanted to give her but didn't manage to, he wants Ren to be happy wherever he is in that moment, knowing that his wish has been fulfilled.

So, after all this recap of Kinoshita's moments, I think we can say that he's not only a mere assistant for Ren, but he's also a friend. His feelings for Ren are sincere, he doesn't praise him because he wants to keep his work, he praise him because he sincerely admire him. Kinoshita knows Ren needs and try to help him as much as he can, not only with his work but even more with his personal life. And if we consider all the times he has said something and Ren hasn't taken him seriously, but later realized how much he was right, we can say that Kinoshita's role in the story is to be Ren's "voice of conscience", that voice we all have inside us that says to us what is the right thing to do (but we often ignore it like Ren did). Kinoshita is a sort of mixture between Yasu and Nobu: he gives Ren the same advices as Yasu would have given him and he admire him like Nobu did. I think this is a good thing for Ren, because now that he's not a member of Blast anymore he doesn't have much time to see his old and true friends (not that Naoki and Reira aren't his friends but...well, in my opinion they can't be compared to Yasu and Nobu), so having Kinoshita near is like having a part of his friends with him all the time.

I hope this super long post hasn't annoyed you and I hope now we can all love Kinoshita together because he deserves a lot of love for what he did ♥.

Nana Week 2021 Day 1 Prompt: side character

#nana #nana week #nana week 2021 #nana analysis #kinoshita #ren honjo #7daysofnana #day 1 #prompt: side character

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seijohsbabe · 4 years ago

Text

Mission tame

Tw: smut, degradation, nicknames, swear words,dubcon

Genre: Enemies to ,,lovers“, Mafia AU

Wordcount: 2,3k

So here you are, back in a big mission, which your boss chose for you. It is important and has high standards. But your years of experience, especially with this group, trumped everything. The group in question was called Seijoh. They were very well known in the underworld. Dangerous and a lot of influence on everything. And at the head of the group is the all too feared Oikawa Tooru. But after all these years he no longer scared you, far too often you saw how cowardly he was. Still, you never managed to overpower him. And today would probably not be the day either, because it should only be an exploration tour to check the current situation. Unnoticed and quietly you crept through the air ducts to get into the room you were heading for: The office of the great Oikawa Tooru. He's on a mission right now anyway, so you had enough time to sniff.

Your card in a pocket on which the system of the shaft is told you that you are not far from your destination. And actually, when you looked down you saw the familiar red carpet floor of the office. You gave a short radio contact to your colleagues that you had arrived. Quickly dismantled the grille you were already in the room, and it was tidy as always, and as expected nobody was in sight. Careful not to leave any traces, you rummaged through the drawers of the large wooden desk to find a few documents, but that wasn't enough for you. The big bookshelves are your next destination, but in the middle of browsing, you heard loud laughter down the hallway which came closer and closer, several voices talking to each other in amusement. Your eyes widened. You quickly passed it on to your radio contact who, however, was just as perplexed as you. They should have been on the road with Seijoh at the moment. Security guards? Whatever, you should get out of here. But just as you were about to disappear into the air ducts, you were pulled back with a jerk on your foot and thumped on the floor. Three pairs of eyes stared down at you, and you recognized those damn eyes all too well. Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa‘s most familiar and best partner. Matsukawa Issei and of course Hanamaki Takahiro Oikawa‘s other closest friends. All of them had a smug grin on their face. You tried to grab your gun on your belt but Iwazumi was faster and grabbed your hands to pin you down. His face came closer, you tried your best to wiggle yourself free but he caged you with his body.

"Look who’s here, lil y/n. Nice to see you again.“ he said while he looked in your angry face. How could that happen?” Oikawa should arrive soon, I think he will be happy to see you.“ He nodded to the two others who just watched the scene. They grabbed you and put you on a chair, grabbed all your belongings. You’ve kicked and slapped but they're just too strong.

"Wowow- I didn't think you would be that wild kitten-" Matsukawa said while he got slapped by you, but he just kept going. You gave him a bad look while he tied you to the chair. Your legs and arms were now immobile, and so you were completely at the mercy. Matsukawa took advantage of this directly, by grazing up your thigh and getting closer and closer to your center, while he smirked at your face. But before you could say anything a familiar voice interrupted you.

"Oh that’s a nice present Iwa-chan! Wow thank you. You guys planed that didn’t you?“ Oikawa came in with his graze on you and a little smile.

"Well I think Matssun, Makki, Iwa-chan, you can go now. Thank you very much.“ They’ve nodded and all went out with an knowing smirk. The whole situation, you knew this is definitly not good.

"Just kill me, Shittykawa, I don’t play your shitty games.“ you spat out, with an disgusting look on your face.

„Oh really y/n? I think you have no other chance.“, he pouted. You knew it was fake. But then he simply loosened your bonds and with a jerk, you got up to first put some distance between the two of you. "Careful as always, huh?" He said with a grin that only he could manage. One that made your hairs stand on your neck. "What do you want ? I know that you want something so finally spit it out so that I can get out of here." you literally spat out. Your discomfort is big, because no matter how long you have known Oikawa, he was unpredictable to this day. Every step he took came without warning. With big steps he came to you, but you stepped back until the hard wall hit your back. Without thinking too much you stepped aside but his arms caged you in front of him so that he could now look down at you. He was just wearing a perfectly fitting black suit. It annoyed you to came into this situation despite your caution. It made you angry. He came nearer and pinned you against the wall now.

,,So, what should I do with you now?“ he said while he grabbed your chin with his fingers to let you look up. Your looked up with an disgusting gaze. You shouldn’t let him bring you down, not yet. But your breathing gets heavier and your cheeks flushed, from all the excitement. He just looked... calm and composed, even amused. But you knew that’s his facade.

"You have no idea what i want to to with you right now.“ you’ve pushed his strong chest, but he didn’t even moved an inch. You’ve tried everything, you even spat, but that spurred him on even more.

And then his head dipped down to press his lips against your neck.

"But you will see what I wanna do.“ he mumured against your skin, lips moving against your skin, and the sigh which left your lips was anything but angry now.

In the back of your mind you know exactly how wrong that was, but his soft lips which went deeper and deeper, and worked your skin by every centimeter, silenced the little voice in your head. Your hands ran through his soft, chocolate-brown locks. He was getting faster and faster and without noticing it he took off your top. Stop, what are you doing here? As if struck by lightning, you pushed him away, this time with success because he was unable to concentrate. He stumbled back a few meters until he grinned at himself again, "Oh bunny, come on, I know you want it." With eagle eyes you watched his fingers slowly taking off his suit and shirt button by button, until you could see his perfect torso. He had scars here and there, some large, some small, many probably from his battles as the boss of a large group of the underworld. He was suddenly in front of you again, this time pressing your lips hard against his. His tongue demanded entry which you refused him at first, but when he held you on your thighs to lift you up and press you against the wall, you could not suppress a little scream. So he had given himself entrance. Your tongues fought for dominance, nobody wanted to lose. Your hands now literally clawed his hair, which made him moan. When you had to stop to take a breath, you murmured against his lips. "Just fuck me already you bastard." His grin grew. You knew it was the wrong step, you gave him exactly the thing he wanted, and he always got what he wanted. But you couldn't suppress that demand, regardless of whether it was an enemy or a friend, as long as it helps you, you should be fine. "Oh dear, I won't have to be told twice." He carried you to his desk to let you fall on it. The things that were on there were pushed down. Faster than you could see, your pants were on the floor like your underwear. He got down on his knees while looking into your face. His face now at eye level with your center, he looked up at you again. But you just rolled your eyes, pressed your legs around his head to bring him closer. Your hands supported you behind you, but you didn't know how long, because feeling his tongue between your slit made you tremble. His tongue got faster and faster and you came closer and closer to the climax. ,, I-I‘m .. “

"What it is? Use your words bunny." He said against your cunt. "Keep going you asshole, I'm c-ah" you couldn't even finish the sentence when his lips sucked on your clitoris. Your climax came hard and fast. Your moans would be heard 5 rooms away, but this climax was just as good as riding a wave.

You just hated him even more because no one had ever gotten such an orgasm out of you. Even now after that, your legs were shaking and everything was tingling. Oikawa's chin full of your arousal, got up on his legs again, and slowly and with relish took off his pants, but you can’t wait, so you fell over him to clap his hands away, which he put without comment in the air, as you opened his buttons with trembling hands. You tugged the pants and boxers with ease down and his cock just sprung out. It wasn’t that big, but a nice shape.

You sank to the ground without comment, which of course he had to comment again. "You probably already know what to do y/n, you see it isn't that bad, isn't it?" But his grin didn't last long, because in one go you took his cock up to the stop in your mouth. This finally wipes his dirty grin off his mouth, replacing it with a groan. Music for your ears to finally have him in your clutches. Your hands played with his balls as your rhythm got faster and faster. His moans, the knees trembling, his eyes closed and head tucked back while his hands gently entangled in your hair, made you humming around his cock. You felt how near he must be, but his hand in your hair pulled you back.

Now you were the one who smiled in his face. ,,Well well Oikawa, king of the underground, so easy to get you a trembling mess huh?“ Oh, how miserable he looked, his gaze was down on your figure, and his breathe was fast. The sweat rolled down from his forehead. "Don’t celebrate so early darling.“

Without predicting it, he pulled you up and slammed you repeatedly on his table to bring his face very close to your ear. His hot breath brushed your ear and made you shiver. "My lil bunny, you just screamed the whole building together, at least I could pull myself together, let's see how long you can hold out this time." And with that, he sank into you in one go while he bit your earlobe. Your eyes widened and your mouth hung open, but no sound came out, too overwhelmed by the feeling of being suddenly filled was too much for your senses. His length hit exactly that one point that makes you roll your eyes every time. Having overcome the shock, you now looked him in the eye. He stared at you, practically studying your face, but he didn't move. "Just move god damn." You said with an impatient tone. And with a jerk, your back landed on the desk, and his hips moved with a steady and rapid speed. You had the feeling he was getting faster and faster, while you were looking for something to hold on to and found his back. Your hands dug into his back, sure to leave marks. He groaned but kept his pace. The clap of your skin on each other echoed through the whole room. You couldn't take it much longer, because it kept banging against your point. Loud animalistic moans escaped you as you got closer. These were quickly caught when his mouth pressed against yours again and practically sucked you out. Your hands brushed up his back to bury themselves in his hair again. He let go from your mouth to let out small moans between his thrusts. "Your m-mine y/n" His pace was getting sloppier, he was getting close. "You wish bastard." And with that, his final snap he sends you over the edge. You only saw stars, heile your walls clamped around him, sucked him in. Your whole body trembled as he painted your insides white. The body parts from you now hung lazily next to you while he was still inside you, looking down at you, and his upper body paced up and down quickly. Its length slowly slid out and let you whimper briefly through the sudden emptiness. Your wobbly arms tried to lift you up but your lack of strength did not allow it. So you stayed there until his hand pried you open from behind. Without a word, he handed you his black shirt. With a raised eyebrow you took it from him to put it on. Slowly your strength came back to slowly get up and look for your underwear, which you quickly found and put on.

"Well it wasn't that bad, but I guess I have to-" When you were about to turn around, he stood in front of you and pressed you into the wall, your hands got pressed together over your head with one hand from him. His pants were already on again. "When I said you were mine, I meant it" and with that, the door opened and Iwaizumi came in. "Bring her to the guest room, make sure she has it comfy. He just nodded, took you, hands behind your back with, down the aisle, while he grabbed your ass, still on display under the light shirt of Oikawa.

#Oikawa #Oikawa smut #Oikawa tooru #Oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #enemys to lovers #Oikawa Enemy #Seijoh #aoba johsai #haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #anime #haikyuu scenarios #sports anime

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daisybeewrites · 3 years ago

Text

Academy Blues

sometimes you punch the bag, sometimes to bag punches you

word count: 4.5k

warnings: none. heavy handed use of italics

ship: Dousy (Daniel Sousa/Daisy Johnson), background Fitzsimmons and Philinda

ahaha.. and the fun begins (the cryptic-ness is for a reason i promise)

“Ow!!” Daisy exclaimed. This was the second time today she had gotten distracted and let the punching bag swing into her. Sans Bobbi or Mack, her usual workout partners, there was no one to hold the bag still while she was pummeling it. Her side of the gym was entirely void of people, most opting to use the treadmills or other cardio machines lining the wall of large windows that faced the forest to the south, or stick to circuits on the resistance machines throughout the middle of the gym. The universe seemed to be telling her to get in some boxing, so she walked over to the bag with the intention of punching until her arms hurt.

Now her nose hurts, too.

“You need a spot?” May asked, silently crossing the padded floor to Daisy.

She nodded. Waiting for May to get into position, Daisy stretched out her arms over her head and across her body, twisting her torso to feel her abs stretch. When May gave her a thumbs up, Daisy started to punch the heavy bag again, this time with a little more force now that she knew it wouldn’t fly back and hit her in the face.

“Something on your mind?”

“No,” Daisy grunted. “Just slacked off the last few weeks. With everyone gone on break there wasn’t as much of... everything, I guess, to keep me in a routine.”

May nodded. “Breaks can be tough. No classes, schedule disrupted, more free time than you know what to do with. I get it. If you ever want a time-filler, text and I’ll be there.”

Daisy nodded, going back to silently punching. The breaks weren’t all bad. They only happened eight times a year, five two-week breaks and three three-week breaks. Enough time that those with families and lives outside of SHIELD could visit and vacation, but not fall behind. Plus, it gave Daisy the campus pretty much to herself. Only about forty students stayed at The Academy over breaks, and it seemed to decrease every time.

Another good thing about breaks was that Daisy got to know more people personally. Whether it was how the tall, fifth-year red head took her morning coffee or that the new group of first-years liked to run the same trails through the forest as she did. So, when an entirely new face had cropped up out of nowhere, Daisy was intrigued. He walked with a limp, had nice hair and kind eyes. She didn’t recognize him, and despite the fact that he had arrived the same day as the rest of the first-years, he was definitely the oldest of the pack. That was unusual, Daisy had thought, SHIELD almost always recruits directly out of high school or college. The last time anyone over the age of twenty-five had been accepted to the Academy was when Daisy herself had started. However, that was a bit of a… special situation.

Every morning, New Guy crossed through the computer lab and waved, smiling confidently at Daisy. His sudden appearance and amicable interactions confused her. Classes weren’t in session, but he always had a backpack with him. Maybe he had tutoring with one of the professors? A new student trying to catch up before the term even began — an enigma.

Once classes had started, he still came by everyday. Daisy liked to think it was because he wanted to see her. They had never spoken more than tired greetings to each other, and yet Daisy felt herself pulled towards him. She shook off the thought. It made her skin crawl, thinking about the last time she felt such a magnetic attraction to someone.

She realized May was studying her through the mirrors lining the wall next to the row of punching bags. She cleared her throat and asked, “Is my form okay?”

May gave her a long look that clearly said, ‘You know that your form is fine.’

Daisy pulled her eyes away from May’s stare, announcing, “I’m going to fill up my water, do you need any?”

May shook her head, pulling out her phone.

Daisy bent down to grab her water and headed to the back of the gym, towards the locker rooms. A couple of reusable bottle-filler stations were stuck into the wall, right next to the PT rooms. Daisy couldn’t help but peer into the closest one as she listened to the sound of water streaming into her bottle. It was filled with floor ladders, yoga balls, sports med supplies... New Guy. Huh.

Wondering why he would be sitting in a dark PT room by himself, Daisy took a swig of her water before continuing to fill it up. He hopped off the table as the lights came on, a young doctor-type walking in a smiling. She was reminded of his limp when he walked towards her, shaking her hand and flashing a large smile. Cute, Daisy noticed. Wait, no, what?

Daisy promptly turned and headed back to the wall of mirrors, choosing to ignore the smirk on May’s face.

“Ready?” Daisy asked.

“Actually,” May began, “Why don’t we get in some sparring? You’ve been at this for over an hour.”

Daisy caught the glance May threw at the half-assed wraps on her hands and nodded. With only a few jitters, Daisy quickly helped May unroll the sparring mats onto the floor. Daisy had only sparred with Yo-Yo since she got back from Columbia visiting her cousin. Sparring with May was an entirely different level.

After some warm-up drills, May silently took charge and got into a fighting stance. Daisy rose up on her tip-toes, then rocked backwards. The grey padding beneath her looked a lot softer than it felt while being slammed onto it. A quick lunge from Daisy and a swift deflection by May, and the two women were off.

Across the gym, Daniel Sousa and the doctor were chatting, watching Daisy and May.

“They look like they’re barely breaking a sweat,” Daniel commented after May leaped off Daisy’s leg, flipping forwards and attempting to grab Daisy around the shoulders. Daisy rolled backward, throwing May over her and getting to her feet as the shorter woman jumped up into a wide stance.

“You’ll get back to that level,” The physical therapist assured him.

Daniel shook his head. “Maybe. I hope so. If not, I’m a damn good shot, anyway.”

The doctor chuckled before motioning back to the PT room. “C’mon, you still have thirty minutes stuck with me before I release you from daily therapy.”

“It’s only been three weeks?” Daniel questioned, confused. They walked through a black door to a small room. Grey cabinets on one side, a black table on the other, physical therapy tools lined up in organized sections.

“Most of which was just assessing you. You already know the exercises and stretches, and you completed the physical therapy recommended by your primary care physician before you came to us. You have the strength mostly back in your residual limb, at least to the point where sparring shouldn’t do any damage. I still expect you to show up at least twice a week. Especially since you’re starting field training with May.”

He smiled. “How do you know about that?”

“I have access to your file, Sousa,” She reminded him, “I also know you were late to her class on the first day. Not a smart move, in my opinion.”

Daniel cringed at the memory of heads turning his way, watching him limp to the only open seat in the very front. May’s comment— “Thoughtful of you to join us, Agent Sousa,” —still turned his face a slightly embarrassing shade of red when he thought about it.

Noticing his uncomfortable silence, the physical therapist put on a sympathetic face. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. I was late to my first class, too. Professor Martin, advanced physiology. Granted, I was seventeen...”

Daniel playfully glared at her.

“...but I suppose that’s no excuse. Let’s get started.”

The rest of the day went by without Daisy or Daniel seeing much of each other besides a fleeting glimpse while changing classes. Not that they were looking for the other, or anything.

A few hours later, before dinner, Daisy was sitting on the counter in the girls’ dorm bathroom, watching Jemma curl her hair.

Jemma Simmons was one of the only people she immediately loved at SHIELD, and the first person she had trusted on Coulson’s team. Over the course of a couple months, they became closer than Daisy had ever been with anyone, spending almost every waking moment together. Over time, Daisy had grown to love the rest of the team, too, learning that they had also been hand picked by Coulson. Though, technically, Daisy hadn’t been chosen for the team. She was picked up as a consultant. But it didn’t matter, as the ragtag team had quickly been disbanded.

Knives shoved into your back can have that effect.

After the end of the team, Code-named Bus Kids, Daisy, Fitzsimmons, Tripp, and May and Coulson had come to the Academy to continue working with SHIELD. Daisy and Tripp were assigned as partners in their ops training, Fitzsimmons were partners in the lab, and May and Coulson still checked on them as if nothing had changed.

But people get busy, and it had been awhile since Jemma and Daisy had properly talked to each other.

“Does the bruise on my nose look like it’ll go away any time soon?”

Jemma glanced up through the mirror, shrugging. “It should. What did you do to it?”

Daisy fiddled with her hands, only answering when Jemma turned to face her fully.

“I kinda, uhm, got punched...”

The stern look Jemma gave Daisy quickly melted into laughter as the brunette added, “...by a punching bag.”

Reaching up to turn Daisy’s face towards the fluorescent bathroom lighting, Jemma gently ran a finger along the angry red splotch on the top of Daisy’s nose. She jerked her head a bit, wincing at the contact.

“You should be fine, I’ll grab some of the good anti-inflammatory meds from the medical storage.”

Daisy thanked her, hopping off the counter to grab an eyeliner pen. “So, how is Fitz? Is this a real date night or are you guys ‘just hanging out’?”

Jemma smiled at his name and rubbed her neck. Daisy smiled back at the subconscious reaction.

“You two are so meant for each other,” She teased.

Jemma tilted her face up towards Daisy, allowing her to start applying eyeliner.

“He hasn’t really defined it. We’re ‘going out’, but we aren’t dating.”

Daisy finished the subtle cat eye, shaking her head. When would he learn that Jemma would only believe they were together if he said, ‘Hey, Jems, I’m completely and totally in love with you and I want you and I to live happily ever after!’

Daisy watched Jemma inspect herself in the mirror, touching up her mascara.

“You look amazing. He’s a fool if he doesn’t see it,” Daisy assured.

Jemma smiled. Her Sheffield accent had gotten thicker over break, Daisy noticed, as Jemma responded, “He does, I know he does. We both just have trouble, you know? Voicing our thoughts and feelings.”

Daisy definitely knew…

“Well, he could do with a good reminder sometimes. If y’all are going to keep going on these not-dates, you might as well show him what he’s missing by staying just friends!”

Jemma laughed, smiling gratefully. She took one final look in the mirror, swishing her knee-length royal blue dress and fluffing her hair. “Okay, well, off I go. Have a good night, Daisy.”

Daisy gave her a thumbs up and went to watch out her window as Fitz handed Jemma a hand-picked bouquet of (slightly squished) wildflowers and took her arm to lead her to the parking lot.

Daisy sighed and turned away from the gold and pink sunset. She opened her personal laptop, immediately bombarded by three windows running programs. One was running an innocent algorithm to clean all the useless, unused files from her computer, one was a simulation that could (hypothetically, no harm no foul) hack the Pentagon, and another was trying to find video and audio feed from Los Angeles, four months ago.

Daisy’s gaze lingered on the last one, not expecting anything new. She sighed and picked up her laptop, deciding to go visit Mack in the garage. It was only seven on a Friday, he’d probably be there working on the run-down, close to falling apart Harley he had bought off an old friend for $200. Mack had been working on it for months. Daisy wasn’t even sure it had half its original parts.

A short trip across the grounds and a trek over a winding path cut through a field of thick tallgrass later, Daisy arrived at the garage.

The monstrous steel and concrete building was like a plane hangar and mechanics lab forged into one. Workstations around the edge were strewn with tools, motors, and half-finished pieces of tech. Shining black SHIELD vehicles and even two quinjets sat in the middle, outlined by rectangular blocks of tape and paint. Catwalks crossed the upper level so that mechanics could reach the tops of planes when necessary, though SHIELD planes hardly ever came to The Academy unless they were being used for a lesson.

Daisy followed the sounds of tinkering and the quietly moving shadows to Mack’s workstation. She carefully leaned against a nearby SHIELD van, not wanting to interrupt his work.

Now, to say that Mack wasn’t easily frightened was an understatement. Daisy had hardly ever seen the muscled giant of a man so much as jump. Ever since discovering this, Daisy had taken every opportunity to try to scare Mack. It was not going great.

Daisy pulled out her phone, silently thumbing through emails and checking Instagram. She was about to walk over and tap him on the shoulder when Mack turned around and screamed.

Clutching his chest, Mack exclaimed, “Tremors, what the hell?!”

“I just wanted to come check in,” Daisy giggled, happy that she had finally snuck up on Mack.

Mack stood with his hands on his hips, smiling wide, before cocking one thick eyebrow and gesturing at her face.

“What happened to your nose?”

“Punching bag won this morning,” She shrugged.

Mack shook his head, laughing in a deep rumble. “You wanna help me with this?” He asked, pointing to the small device on his desk.

She didn’t answer, just reached out to take a small screwdriver from Mack’s very large hand. He showed her how to twist it to create leverage without it slipping while he messed with some wires, and eventually he seemed satisfied.

“Have you eaten dinner?” Mack asked casually.

Daisy nodded, her grumbling stomach betraying her.

Mack eyed her up and down. “Sure. Well, I’m hungry, so let's get something to eat and then we can take the bikes out.”

Daisy liked the feeling of being on a bike, the wind in her hair and steady vibrations from the engine soothing her ever-present headache. Ever since this revelation, if Mack went out on his motorcycle, he invited Daisy to ride with him.

At first, Daisy had been skeptical. What was so great about a two-wheel speeding death trap? One of her best friends had driven a gleaming 1969 Dodge Charger, and she had enjoyed riding with the windows down, but it still wasn’t the absolute best experience of her life, like most motorcyclists claimed a ride could be. However, once Daisy had finally taken Mack up on his offer, she was never hesitant to accept another invitation.

In the canteen, Mack piled a plate high with salad ingredients and baked spaghetti, scooping some off into a bowl for Daisy once he got back to the table. She took a fork and picked at it, chewing the crisp lettuce slowly.

Once they were both finished, Mack put his plate and utensils on the circling dish belt. He let Daisy lead the way back to the garage. She immediately grabbed two helmets and Mack’s gloves.

“That leather jacket gonna be enough to keep you warm? I have a couple old flannels in my bag if you want one.” Mack offered.

Daisy picked at a loose thread on the worn black jacket, nodding and throwing a ‘Thanks’ over her shoulder. She quickly rifled through his duffel bag, pulling out a faded black and blue flannel and shrugging it on under her jacket.

Mack mounted his black and silver bike, Daisy choosing a smaller SHIELD one. She kicked the kickstand back with her foot, finding her balance. She followed Mack as he revved the engine and took off out of the garage. Daisy heard him speak into the helmet’s mic.

“I upgraded the bikes, bigger tires and a better visor. It’s more efficient. Plus, when I’m out on the highway, cars don’t push me around.”

Daisy gave him a thumbs up, focusing on the feeling of air flowing around her. She sped up as she reached the road. She felt as if she was flying high into the air, fighting the laws of physics. On the back roads surrounding the Academy, as familiar as the back of her hand, Daisy relaxed and let herself fall into autopilot.

She heard Mack in her ear, still talking about the bike. She had heard it all before, but there was something centering about listening to Mack retell the evolution of his bike for the hundredth time, like a kid who begged to hear the same bedtime story every night.

It was freeing, speeding down a deserted road on the bike, stars above and pavement below. Pine trees reached for the sky on each side of her. Shrubbery and grass waved to Mack and Daisy as they raced forward.

A slight burn pricked her eyes that she knew wasn’t from the wind. Daisy needed this after a stressful first couple weeks back in class. To be honest, it was what she needed all the time. Daisy was exhausted. Her powers may not be visible, but they were always on, always bouncing around her body. Times like these, though, Daisy felt free. Releasing the constant grip she had on her self-control, she let the vibrations of the engine flow through her. Slowly, surely, Daisy let her guard down. A whispering warble crept into her ears over the wind. She could feel the way the pavement below and the humid late-August air around her absorbed the miniscule quakes, bouncing lightly off the tall trees like a quiet laugh reflecting off the walls of an echo-chamber.

About an hour later, Daisy and Mack were rolling back into the garage. Daisy couldn’t hide the slight redness in her eyes, but the smile on her face told Mack he didn’t need to worry. The pair silently did maintenance on the motorcycles, re-fueling them for later use and checking for any loose parts on Daisy’s.

Daisy headed back to campus, refusing Mack’s offer to walk her back to the dorms. She would be fine on her own. Besides, Jems might be back by now, she could ask about Fitzsimmons’ date. Or she could wait until breakfast tomorrow and tease them both.

Daisy stopped in her tracks. Out of the corner of her eye, a shadow slipped behind a building. Daisy felt her back tense, her hands curling into fists.

Any remainder of twilight light had faded while Mack and Daisy maintenanced the bikes. Daisy couldn’t imagine that any of the trainees that went to parties at the nearby universities were back yet, but no student in their right mind would want to simply walk around the dark campus of the Academy.

She kept walking, more alert. No sounds apart from her steady breathing and the rustle of grass beneath her feet reached her ears. She walked slowly toward where the shadow had disappeared. It looked as if it was headed to the biochem building. Daisy raised her hands, quietly running towards the white building, slightly crouched. She circled it once, twice, before deciding she had been imagining things, the shadow was only a trick of the light. It seemed so real though, so solid…

Daisy shook her head and crossed the courtyard, heading towards the dorms. It was late, and she had important things to do tomorrow. She was probably just tired from her ride with Mack.

Behind her, unnoticed by Daisy, the shadow quickly crossed the field behind the biochem building, slinking into the tallgrass.

The next day, Daisy woke to the sound of her alarm blaring 90’s RnB at six thirty AM, sharp. She quickly shut it off and stared at the ceiling for a moment before groaning and dragging herself out of bed. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night after her encounter with the shadow.

The sun was slowly ascending in the sky, golden light filtering into her windows. It was early, but she didn’t have the energy to go workout. Instead, Daisy stretched on her bed and sent a quick text to Jemma asking to meet up later to gossip about her date.

She grabbed shorts and a cropped sweatshirt, quickly dressing and making her way to the bathroom. She clipped her hair back, brushed her teeth, washed her face and headed back to her room. Trying her best to cover the bruise that had turned from red-violet to a blue-ish tinted black, she did minimal makeup. It’s not like it could get any worse, she thought bitterly. The concealer wasn’t much use.

Deciding to ignore the bruise, Daisy stood up, grabbed her backpack with her personal laptop and journal and headed to the canteen.

There weren’t many students around campus this early in the morning. Most were either asleep or nursing a hangover in their dorms. A few dedicated trainees were scattered amongst the different buildings, either in the gym or studying on their favourite bench. Daisy made a beeline for the canteen, hoping that no one had drank all the fresh coffee yet.

She slipped through the doors, sending small smiles to the students she made eye-contact with, faltering when her roving gaze reached a set of twinkling eyes the color of coffee. Maybe, she thought, I should go over and talk to him. What’s the worst that can happen?

She quickly poured herself a cup of coffee and grabbed a cinnamon raisin bagel from the pastry cart. Checking to be sure he wasn’t sitting with anyone (she wouldn’t want to intrude), Daisy walked around to the back of the large room, sitting in a spot diagonal from him.

After a few minutes of silence where Daisy ate her bagel and pretended not to feel his eyes on her, she turned and faced him.

“Good morning,” she said.

He dipped his head and raised his paper cup of coffee at the same time in response.

Does he not want to talk to me? Daisy questioned herself. She tried again. “So, is the coffee good?” He glanced at her cup that she had been sipping. Daisy recovered, “You know, in your opinion. I love the coffee here, the slightly burned aftertaste goes well with cream and sugar.΅

To her relief, he smiled. “Yeah, it’s good. I don’t usually use cream or sugar.”

Daisy raised her eyebrows, impressed. “Ah, more of a bare necessities, no-nonsense guy?”

His nose scrunched a little in thought, as if he was assessing his entire personality to see if it aligned with Daisy’s coffee psychology. He nodded finally, elaborating, “I was in the army. Most of us drank it black while deployed. I never got out of the habit. But, to answer your question, I like to think of myself as low maintenance.”

He sent her a small smile that had her insides melting just a bit. Daisy hid behind the rim of her coffee cup, trying to think of a response. Luckily, New Guy saved her.

“How do you drink your coffee?”

Daisy lowered her own paper cup, clearing her throat. “One half and half, just a bit of sugar. If I’m super tired I’ll add more.”

“So you probably adapt easily and have a deep hunger for answers to all your questions?”

Daisy’s eyes quickly flicked down to her coffee, wondering if her coffee order really exposed that much about her. Daniel laughed, his shoulders shaking with mirth. “I’m kidding. I noticed how you’re always in the computer lab before class, and Yo-Yo told me that you use that time to research.”

Daisy felt a blush creep up her neck. Yo-Yo knew New Guy? And gave him information about her schedule?

Daniel quickly explained, “We see each other in the halls a lot. And we have a class together. She noticed me in the lab and thought I knew you.”

Daisy relaxed. Yo-Yo had become increasingly more friendly to strangers the longer she spent at the Academy.

“I remember the first time I met her. She was so angry that SHIELD had stopped her from exposing the police in her city as corrupt. Our team was sent in to help her finish what she had started, destroy weapons and take down the corrupt members of the department. It was fun,” She chuckled.

Daniel watched her through his thin clear-frame glasses. She winced a little as her nose scrunched with laughter, recalling another story about a mission gone awry that Yo-Yo saved.

“How did you get that bruise?”

“What?”

He pointed to the spot on his face that mirrored the position of the bruise on hers. “The bruise. It looks like it hurts.”

Daisy shrugged, “Not as badly as getting shot. But you know, sometimes you punch the bag, sometimes the bag punches you.”

Despite the playful nature of the statement, Daniel couldn’t help but hear alarm bells in the back of his mind. She had been shot?!

Daisy noticed the change in Daniel’s demeanor and switched tactics, “It’s just a bruise. I wasn’t paying attention and the punching bag flew back and hit me in the face.”

Daniel laughed, becoming more and more intrigued with the enigma sitting across from him. Well, at least this enigma was beautiful, even if she had lost a fight to a punching bag.

A look of pure confusion overtook Daisy’s features. “Excuse me?”

Daniel’s face flushed bright red. He said that out loud. Daisy was still smiling though, Daniel let out a nervous chuckle. The two lapsed into an awkward silence. Daisy was finishing her bagel when he spoke up again.

“It was good talking to you,” he said softly.

Daisy’s eyes wandered his face with an unreadable expression. “Yeah, it was.”

He resisted the urge to offer to walk Daisy to wherever she was going as she headed out of the doors of the canteen, coffee with one half and half and pinch of sugar in hand.

————————————————————————————

hi hellooo! whatd you think? comments and notes are appreciated! (will go back and edit this later, for now i sleep)

tag list: @jaanulore

#agents of sheild #aos #dousy #timequake #fic #angst #fluff #fitzsimmons #mackelena #philindaisy #jemma simmons #leo fitz #daniel sousa #daisy johnson #/#melinda may

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punkcupcakestyles · 4 years ago

Text

Love Song

Part 16

Catch up!

In which one of them says the “L” word.

TW: Hi, this chapter contains references to DV. If you don’t feel like reading it, that's fine, your wellbeing is a priority. However, if you would like to read some of this new chapter, you can skip it, as references are only made in the first part directly under the “read more”, which is marked with a ++++ for you. Once that bracket ends, it is TW-free.

****

Are Harry Styles and Sofia Welsh a thing?

Surely, you must be asking this yourself…

++++

Harry was still asleep when I woke up. He was sleeping on his belly, with his back turned to me, and I scooted closer to him, brushing my fingers over the light red marks I had left on his skin. So, last night had happened, and those marks were there to prove it.

I laid on my back and stared at the ceiling, trying to come up with all of the ways I was different that morning. We had sex, which was new, and then took a shower together and fell asleep in the middle of kisses and giddy laughs, which wasn’t so new. My body was the same, except for the slight pain on one side of my hips, and the ticklish memory of Harry’s lips on my skin. My mind was fluttery and anxious, but that wasn’t Harry’s fault.

It was mine.

One thing was different: Harry knew.

What had happened last night? I was desperate for Harry to stay. I felt like my heart would break irreparably if he walked away. A desperate, exaggerated feeling, no doubt, but it felt so real at that moment, so overwhelmingly true, that nothing else mattered. So I told him about my mom and my aunt, about my family. I had told him I needed a hiding place…

What comes next?

Harry rustled in his sleep and I found myself holding my breath before I could even realize, watching as he turned to lie on his back. It seemed like he was going to wake up at any minute now, and I still hadn’t chosen the feeling I should focus on.

On one hand, I felt excited and giddy, the memory of the previous night vividly replaying in my mind. Last night, he was mine, he had stayed and I had slept in his arms; I also felt guilty and ashamed, tied up to a story I hadn’t chosen for myself.

If I closed my eyes, I could see him, moving in all of his fury. I could hear the screams and the lies. I could never shake away the feeling that it was all my fault. I should have done something earlier.

“Fuck,” I moaned, already feeling the ghosts as they circled me. I could see him, blazing up like a pure fire that wanted to burn everything that it could find. I could see her, making herself small, waiting for whatever was coming her way. Neither of them could see me.

“Sof?” I heard Harry’s voice, but it sounded far away, more like a whisper making its way through a tangle of darkness. If I searched for it, if I reached for it…Harry looped one arm around my waist, and he must have thought that I was having a nightmare, cause he let his body wrap around mine to keep me warm and close. Safe. “It’s ok,” he whispered and I could hear his voice clearer now, even if it was sleepy. “I’m here, baby.”

I think he did it out of reflex, because his eyelids were still heavy with sleep, struggling to open, even when it was still dark around us. I quickly turned around, burying my face onto the crook of his neck and smiling when his hug became tighter and his fingers tangled in my knotty hair.

He still smelled fresh from the shower and his skin was cold to the touch, so I sighed as I kissed his shoulder and neck, and I felt comfort when his lips met mine in a lazy, soft kiss.

“Were you having a bad dream?” He asked, once sleep had faded away. I could see the outline of his face and could feel the touch of his fingers as he brushed them up my waist and to my back. It was soothing, but the ache was still there, bringing me down and suffocating me.

“No,” I said with a raspy voice that I could barely recognize as mine. I cleared my throat and blinked away the tears that were brimming my eyes so he wouldn’t notice them. “I was awake. Sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s ok.” I could hear the smile in his voice, which was tinted with a sweet hint that settled underneath my skin and made me feel warm, my own heart forgetting about rhythm and beating. “Are you ok?”

“Now that you’re awake, I am.”

“Good, baby. I’m here for you,” Harry whispered. He brushed his lips over my forehead and pressed a soft kiss there, one that told me more than words could. “Wanna tell me what happened? You were so tense.”

“H..." I hesitated. How did I explain it to him? How did I tell him what I had done? That I didn't regret it? “Do you really want to know?” I asked him. I pushed myself away from him, rolling away from his arms to sit on the bed. He did the same, sitting by my side as he propped himself up on the pillows. This wasn’t how I imagined the morning after, and I bet it wasn’t like he had imagined it either.

“Yes!” He said, which was exactly the answer I was dreading. “You don’t have to, Sof, but you can always tell me if something’s upsetting you.”

“I...I didn’t want you to go yesterday. I wanted you to stay,” I said, trying to earn myself some time to articulate my thoughts. “So I told you some things that I’ve never said to anyone before. And I’m feeling guilty and afraid of what you might think.”

“Ok,” he said, which was not nearly enough, but it prompted me to continue.

“And I feel the desperate need to tell you that my dad wasn’t always bad, that I had a pony, and on Fridays, I could eat way too much sugar. I don’t want you to think…” I stopped because I needed to gulp back my tears. My mom and I, we’re strong people.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t want you to think any different about me.”

“Why would I, Sof?” Why would he? Because I kept telling myself that I did what I had to do, but I’m lying. At that moment, all I felt was rage, not survival. I wanted to hurt him, make him suffer for what he had done, even if just a bit. I wanted to kill him. But I didn’t. “C’mere,” Harry said, and his fingers found mine and squeezed them lightly as he laced them together. So I obeyed and breathed him in as he pulled me into a tight hug. “You’re safe, I promise.”

“I know.”

“Good,” he breathed and his body noticeably relaxed, even though I don’t think either of us even had realized he was holding his breath in.

If anything, it made the butterflies in my tummy rise and flutter.

****

Kacey Musgraves and Harry Styles reunited yesterday, on the last date of her Oh, What a World: Tour II, to sing “Space Cowboy” from her hit album Golden Hour. The heartfelt performance was received with cheers from the audience. At the end of the song, Styles praised her former tour partner, calling her one of his favorites. It was a breathtaking moment.

Eagle-eyed fans, however, also noticed a special guest that was not announced, and that tried to blend in with the crowd: Styles’ on-and-off rumored girlfriend Sofia Welsh-De la Rosa was seen in the crowd during the duet performance, along with her agent and some friends. Does this mean a confirmation of the romance? Not quite, as she stayed to enjoy the concert even after he left the stage and was nowhere to be seen during the closing party. Was it just a coincidence? Is Welsh a stalker? Fans have been weighing in on Twitter, but the question remains: If Sofia Welsh gets ghosted, what hope do I have? Below you’ll find some of the most relatable comments…

****

It all started innocently, sitting next to him on the couch to cuddle while he reviewed the plan for his next single. It was all laid out in an e-mail, with wardrobe ideas and stage mockups. A glimpse of his screen was enough to catch my attention, as I saw what looked like a fisherman island and a couple of lively-looking fishes.

“What’s the song about?” I asked him, peering up at him as my head rested on his shoulder. I had to ask, there were fish involved!

“Well...you. It’s about you.” Harry smiled and I saw him blush a little while he avoided looking me in the eyes.

“No, really, tell me!”

“It’s about you, Sof. What makes you think I’m joking?”

“Why would you write a song about me? Is it about how annoying I am?” I grinned and I propped myself up with one hand, so I could look him in the eyes while we talked. It was funny, ‘cause I knew about the song, he had told me the night of our date, which seemed like ages ago. But now, my brain was going into overdrive, and I stared at him as he leaned closer and let his lips brush over a kiss over my forehead.

“It’s about how much I like you,” he said, and this time, he met my eyes while I stared at him stupidly.

“Is that the surprise you told me about? I would’ve thought you had pulled it from the album after everything that’s happened these last few weeks.”

“I did try, but Jeff told me to go fuck myself.” I didn’t know if he was joking. The quick smile on his lips disappeared as Harry looked at me. “And I wrote them for you, it’s only fair you get to listen to them.”

“Can I? Listen to it, I mean...”

“As long as you don’t tell Jeff to pull it from the album, I think we can do that.”

“I promise I won’t.”

The few seconds he took to look for the song seemed like an eternity, that I spent with my heart pounding in my ears and my eyes fixed on his phone screen. There were tons of songs there, and while some had a proper title, most were named with just a word or a date. I watched him go to a list called FL, and there, he scrolled down to the bottom, before pressing play on a song named “Adore You”.

As the first few notes started to play, I went quiet and let Harry pull me into a cuddle. Once again, I was lying next to him, with my head resting on his chest, and I could feel the steadiness of his heart, and the warm touch of his fingers as they pressed to my waist.

“Walk in your rainbow paradise…”

His voice was rich and soothing and it made my heartache in a way I didn’t know it was capable of. I listened to it, focusing on the words and the melody. I wanted to decipher every bit of it, every intention, every hint, tear it apart, and build it up again second by second.

Harry was smiling when I looked at him, almost shyly and apologetically, like telling me how sorry he was for putting me in the spotlight.

But I loved it.

“Play it again”, I whispered when the song came to an end, as I looked up at him. Harry smiled in satisfaction, a little cocky grin, as he put the song on repeat. He then shifted on the couch, sitting up so I could straddle him. His hands went to my back and held my waist as mine looped around his shoulders.

“Did you like it?” Harry managed to ask between my kisses, lips pressing softly to his own, his cheek, his jaw, his nose.

“I did. I loved it,” I giggled as I looked for his neck to kiss him there. I wondered how many times we would listen to the song before I was satisfied. Many, I had to guess.

“Good…” Harry smiled and broke the kiss apart to look at me in the eyes. “I love you, Sof.”

I froze, stopping my frantic mission to kiss every available inch of his body, and I slowly brought my hands to my lap, as I looked at him, forgetting how to breathe.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Harry breathed with a light laugh. “I know you have feelings for Sam, so it’s ok if you have to think about it. I just wanted to let you know… I’m yours if you want me, Sof....and even if you don’t.”

“What…” I started, but words kept failing to form in my lips, just as much as they failed to organize coherently in my brain. There was so much I wanted to say, many things I could tell him, but instead, I pressed myself to him, hugging him tight to my body until our breaths mixed, and it wasn’t too clear whose heartbeat was louder.

“It’s ok. It’s ok, Sof, you don’t have to say anything,” Harry whispered reassuringly, so I did the only thing I knew I could do, I kissed him.

Right then, it was easy to see how everything had changed from the night before, or even a few minutes ago. Now his touch felt different, filled with the memories of the night before. He knew my body better than I did. It was his to explore, to taste, and touch, and he did so. Everything, including the kiss, was slow but intense, soft and sweet but so fucking hungry.

“I love you, Sof.” I kept replaying it in my mind, with all of its letters, one by one. Like a gospel, a moment of prayer to calm the soul.

Harry made his way down to my collarbones, and he trailed his kisses down to the valley of my chest, where he stopped, and let his fingers curl around the cups of my bra to push it down. The warmth on his breath rose goosebumps all over my skin and I moaned quietly as he wrapped his lips around my nipple and sucked on it. It felt so good, but still, anticipation was boiling in my tummy, demanding more. I wanted to feel his tongue, his warm breath, the drowned moans. I wanted them to echo down my body until I had no more choice but to cry out in pleasure. It was a delicious, bubbly feeling that clouded my mind, only leaving space for Harry.

I was so sensitive, all raw skin and prickly nerves, the slightest touch sent a shiver up my spine and made me arch my back and moan.

I was too aware of the light touch of his hand brushing down my stomach and sliding underneath my panties. I could see a flash of a smile before he went to pay attention to my other nipple, sucking harder on it as he grazed his finger around my clit.

“Fuck,” I moaned, trying to relax as the sharp pain of my soreness took over my senses for just a second. But it didn’t escape Harry, who stopped right away to look at me with a worried glint in his eyes.

“Are you sore, Sof?” He asked, and to my despair he pulled his hand away, placing it on my leg instead with a light squeeze.

“A bit,” I said, almost apologetically. “But we can still do it.”

“It’s ok,” Harry smiled. “There’s no rush. We can just kiss.”

“We’re going back to L.A. tomorrow, and you’ll be off to London by the end of the week, so at least I’m in a rush. I’ve already wasted a lot of time.”

“So, what are you suggesting? That we should fuck non-stop now?”

“Yes!!” I laughed. “You should fuck me.”

“I want you to enjoy it,” Harry said and he hugged me closer to his chest. The sentiment was appreciated and I had no doubt he actually meant it, but that didn’t mean I had to make it easy for him. His tummy tightened as my fingers brushed over his tanned skin, the slight swell of his pecs, the muscles on his abs, and a low moan escaped his reluctant lips as I shifted on his lap, and rolled my hips for him. He was getting hard, maybe because of all of the feverish kisses we had shared, and I felt the sharp bite of his nails as they dug on the round of my ass. “So it feels good for you. It kinda hurts my ego if you don’t.” he smiled. His hands pressed tightly to my hips, stopping me from making any movement. “And I owe you one from last night.”

“I enjoyed last night, it was perfect.”

“Really?” Harry asked, his smiling lighting up his cute face when he looked at me. “I always thought our first time was gonna be fucking special, like a hotel in Paris looking at the tower, or something like that.”

“You thought about our first time?”

“I did, it got me through the nights,” he said. His touch had no urgency other than to feel me close and feel the warmth of my skin under the tips of his fingers.

“Good to know I’m on your mind, then.”

“All the fucking time, didn’t you listen to the song?”

So engulfed we were in each other that we had missed the sound of the door opening or that of the soft steps that followed it.

“H, why did you change rooms? Listen, man, if I have to listen to Diana nag me because of you...oh, fuck! I’m sorry,” a male voice exclaimed, going from very confused and slightly annoyed to sincerely apologetic. I scrambled to the couch to cover myself with the pillows, while Harry remained seated, calmly looking at his friend.

Jeff was holding what seemed like a bakery paper bag, and 4 tall coffees. He set them down on the little table in front of the couch and cleared his throat while he clearly avoided looking at me. Without saying a word, Harry stood up and walked to the room, and came back after he had dressed, and holding a shirt he offered to me. It only took him seconds, but it felt like an eternity, and Jeff and I were awkward enough to make it evident.

“I thought you had left for L.A., Sof. Diana told me you did,” Jeff said, now that I had put on the shirt, and he was free to look at me. He sat down on one corner of the couch and picked up Harry’s phone to stop the music. The room felt too silent without it.

“I decided not to go.”

“Good,” he smiled. Both of us were looking at Harry, as he smiled at me. He was our only connection, after all, and I had a nagging feeling that Jeff did not like me all that much. “Does Diana know?”

“That I stayed?”

“With Harry, yeah,” Jeff pressed.

“I haven’t told her, no.”

“Ok, we might want to do that,” he smiled too kindly. I would have felt overwhelmed by the, how does the song go? Oh, yes, bad moon a-rising feeling of his words, but at that moment, Jeff leaned over the table and started fixing breakfast in front of us: buttery and flaky croissants, little pastries filled with chocolate and raspberries, cinnamon swirls and avocado and eggs toast. The sugary and buttery smell took over my well-intentioned anxiety. It kept me on top of things most of the time, never too surprised when things went wrong.

“How many people did you invite for breakfast?” I asked him.

“Well, Diana is coming. Yesterday she told me you were leaving and that you guys were probably moving on, so I told her to meet me this morning.”

“Moving on from what?” Harry asked his friend as he picked two croissants and offered me one. Mine had red stripes, so I guessed it must’ve had some kind of strawberry or raspberry filling. He picked a chocolate one for himself and set it apart on the table, grabbing a cup of coffee first.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess, and say you, they’re moving on from you.”

The croissant was still warm and I held it in my hand like it was a war grenade, ready to blow off. Could I eat it? The short answer was no. The long answer was more complicated than that, but it also ended in a no. My tummy grumbled, it had been long since the last time I had really eaten or felt hungry, so it took me a couple of seconds to realize what was going on around me, like the fact that both Harry and Jeff were looking at me as if I was fucking crazy. Perhaps I was.

“Are you having a meltdown over a croissant?” Harry asked, and the mocking hint that laced in his voice stung. Oh, he didn’t understand.

“I’m on a diet, and I need to be because otherwise, they might not give me the role.”

“They already did, that’s why you’re training like a crazy person.”

“They can still say that I don’t look good in a latex suit, because who fucking does? And take the role away from me,” I tried explaining, as I leaned over the table to put the croissant down and pick a black coffee.

“They won’t,” Harry said as he picked it up back again and offered it to me. “I promise. You’re the queen right now, and everyone’s in love with you. And if they choose to take the role away from you, they’re assholes anyway,” he continued, with a sweet smile on his face. I took the napkin and leaned back on the couch as I took a bite out of the croissant.

“Good,” Jeff exclaimed, reminding us that we were not alone in the room. “Now, do we talk about Sofia wanting to move on, or do we just ignore it?”

“I, uh, I don’t want to move on.”

“Ok, so I’ll talk to Diana,” Jeff nodded. “I’ll do it soon, so you guys don’t have time to change your fucking minds.”

“Thanks, Jeff,” I smiled at him. He didn’t like me, oh, not at all, but he wasn’t doing it for me. So he shrugged, and took a pastry for himself, to eat it with his coffee.

Maybe we had said Diana’s name too many times, because there she was, closing the door behind her. She couldn’t see me, but I saw her, with her green dress with white flowers on. She was holding a plastic bowl of fruit and a holder with 3 tall coffees and she walked into the room and towards us without noticing me. When she did, a frown etched between her brows, and her eyes danced from Harry to me.

“You didn’t leave. Good, we need to talk.” Diana said as if nothing could surprise her anymore. She walked to me and picked up the piece of croissants I had left in my hands and put them down on the table, before she sat down next to Jeff, with a bright, satisfied smile on her face. “You can’t eat that. Actually, we might need to go even more strict. Dior wants you for their new campaign and Rihanna is wondering if you’d like to model some underwear. I said yes to both.” She waited for the ovation. I could see that she was holding herself from clapping in excitement. But we all remained silent, and she slowly calmed herself down, looking at me as if I was the one that didn’t understand, which was a fair assumption; I didn’t understand.

“It means people know you can sell, Sof. We can ask for more money. We can ask you to be one of the top earners in the Marvel Universe. The top earner in every other movie you make,” she said, giddily. “Now, Dior wants you to shoot their campaign with one of their most iconic dresses. It’s a size zero, and they’ll stretch it to a size two, a tight one. So, we need to cut down a bit.”

A bit.

“Why don’t they just stretch it a little more?” Harry asked.

“Because it’s an iconic dress, I just said it, Harry,” Diana snapped.

“That’s bullshit, Diana,” Harry said, and even though he was smiling, there was a hint of anger in his voice. He was annoyed and he didn’t feel like hiding it.

“Oh, you think you know what us women…”

I couldn’t take it. I knew I should have said something, perhaps side with Harry and tell Diana that I wasn’t interested, but it was all too much. So I did what I know how to do best: I got up and left, walking to my room to hide from both of them and closing the door behind me. I sat on the corner of the bed and let out a shaky sigh. I wasn’t alone for too long. Harry entered the room and he cautiously walked to me and sat down by my side. The bed wobbled a little and I looked at him for a second before going back to look down to the floor.

“Are you ok, love?” He asked.

“I just started having sex,” I said.

“I am aware,” he replied.

“So, all of this talk about my body...it fucking sucks, especially because you’re there and you can listen to all of it, and…”

“And what?”

“Realize I don’t look good in a catsuit.”

“Do you want to see me in a catsuit? I don’t think I’d look good either,” He offered, and I laughed, despite everything, because that was the thing about Harry, he made everything better.

“Would you put on a catsuit for me?”

“I’d do anything for you, Sof...Come with me to London, let’s forget about this whole thing.”

“I can’t, H. I have to train and follow this diet, and be camera ready.”

“I promise I’ll keep you busy,” he said.

“Yeah? How?”

He did exactly what I expected him to do, he kissed me, his fingers pressing softly to the back of my neck, while his tongue swept my bottom lip. It was a lavish kiss, slow and intense. It made me forget that there were people in the other room, and to shift on the bed until I was sitting on his lap, with my legs on each side of his body. His hands started their journey on the upper part of my back, under my shirt, and he ran the tip of his fingers down the length of my spine. Every inch of skin he touched set on fire and reminded me how alive I was and all that I was capable of feeling because of him.

“Please,” I muttered against his lips as his fingers got to the round of my ass, and he dug them and kneaded on my skin.

“Please what?” He smiled.

“Please whatever you want…”

“You need me, baby?”

“I need you, I want you…”

“Can you be quiet for me?”

“Yes, I can try. Please.”

****

The plot thickens: Harry Styles and Sofia Welsh were seen leaving his hotel in Nashville together, where the singer was staying after he performed in Kacey Musgraves’ concert. The stars, who haven’t confirmed the status of their relationship, went out to grab lunch with a group of friends, including Musgraves herself, and then left for the airport together.

This outing comes as a disappointment for Logan Lerman fans, who have started shipping him with the actress, as they are both set to work together in Amazon’s new show...

#Harry Styles #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #1dff #harry styles fanfiction #hiiiiiiiiiii

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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years ago

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loving the angst!! can we get cygate for the oxygen loss prompt?

Absolutely! I think I'll just start doing one character or couple per ask for this one, because I always make it so long and drawn out! As usual, links to previous posts for this prompt are below!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: You're Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Cygate

(Cyclonus/Tailgate/Reader)

·As the three of you have become inseparable, you're once again spending the day together in your shared quarters, in a basket style cuddle position that has the massive Cyclonus lying half on his side, the smaller Tailgate cradled in a mirror position, and teeny you in the little basket shaped space between them. From the berth it's a perfect way to watch something on the monitor together, or to just spend a lazy afternoon napping and talking, or to simply enjoy each other's company. You would suppose that's probably why it's a favorite activity for the three of you, but you don't care to do much thinking from your safe and secure spot between the two bots you love more than anything.

·You were all on the verge of drifting off when the lights unexpectedly flicker, a not too worrisome sight, that is until a number of other things start to glitch and go offline. With communications amongst the downed systems, there's no way to find out what's going on from where you are, so to the disappointment of everyone involved you all three decide you'll have to do some investigating. Tailgate hugs you tight before preparing to do just that, playfully saying he wants just a few more minutes to cuddle, nuzzling his helm against your head as he buzzes sleepily. How can he resist? You're so soft!

·Thankfully both he and Cyclonus have developed some quick reflexes, as the sudden rumble that shakes the ship nearly sends all three of you to the floor, and between Tailgate's secure hold on you whilst Cyclonus stabilizes you both you're saved from falling and/or being squished. There's little time to celebrate though. Cyclonus recognizes the signs of an enemy ambush, and Tailgate quickly puts together the system glitches as being related, meaning that you're all facing some serious trouble. Particularly the very squishy you.

·Cyclonus is armed in seconds, his demeanor one of focused contemplation as he tries to strategize despite a total lack of reconnaissance. Tailgate, still holding you, jumps in with confirmation that you have to be taken somewhere safe! The two of them will have to aid the defense, but you can't be left alone, so they'll need to find somewhere secure and guarded by lots of bots. Thankfully Cyclonus has an immediate solution; the medical bay. It has guards assigned to it in the event of an occasion like this, it's certainly fortified, and you'll be more than safe while they hold off enemy combatants.

·You never want to be left behind, but you concede that it's the logical choice, especially because you know Tailgate will refuse to hear any arguments against it. With your plan settled on, a path is decided next to save as much time as possible. Tailgate begins to buzz with worry as Cyclonus lays out the many potential ambush sites and choke points they need to avoid. Though he's the one holding you protectively, you give the minibot a gentle pat on his Autobrand, knowing very little of his anxiety is for his own wellbeing. The buzz of worry is starting to make your hair go static though...

·Cyclonus breaks his resolute guardian persona for a single instant once the path is decided upon, dropping to one knee so he can be closer to both of his much tinier partners. He looks to Tailgate and then you, reaching out with a clawed hand to gently cup your tiny face with a precision he's honed well these past few months. There's a single moment where all three of you seem to make the same wordless vow; I won't let anything happen to you. You're briefly hugged between the two of them to drive the point home, and when they part you see that between those two red optics and a bright blue visor there's enough dedication to make you certain they'd take on a Titan for you.

·You can't help but feed off their on edge energy when your room is left behind, though you have plenty of your own anxiety to keep you company. Nothing is responding, not even comms, so you're all running totally blind beyond what's right in front of you. There could be a full battalion of soldiers barreling your way, and you wouldn't know... Only being with the two bots you love more than anything keeps you calm. Tailgate isn't holding you especially tight, but there's an unrestrained kind of daring in his visor as it scans the hallways, like he's challenging anyone to just try and get to you. Cyclonus is similiarly inclined, but in his own way, the occasional glance of his optics in your direction so subtle each incidence could be mistaken for a trick of the light.

·It shouldn't have surprised you when there was trouble before the three of you had even passed the station of terminals about a third of the way to your goal. In fairness, they'd emerged from a hallway looking almost shocked to see a towering Cyclonus and a tiny Tailgate cradling you, so the group of hostile aliens obviously hadn't been expecting any resistance in this area either. You hadn't needed to prepare any defense of your own once their bullets started flying, as you'd been expertly tucked behind a corner by the minibot just as a greatsword had started lopping off limbs. With an emphatic "please stay!!" in your direction, Tailgate is right in the fray with his hubby.

·It's hard to think of danger while watching these two tear it to shreds. Their enemies are massive, hulking aliens armed for an invasion but they don't stand a chance against your partners, both of whom fight as if these brutes threatened you directly, which they likely would have if given the chance. Between the great arcs of a deadly blade and the powerful blows of two blurry fists, you can't help but be confident this won't be that long of a delay... You're a little giddy but not all too concerned about it when the universe decides to call you to task, something it seems to enjoy doing in moments set up for great irony.

·The alien that appeared so suddenly beside you could have killed you with its lazy swipe, but thankfully you're only sent sprawling in the hallway, your survival instincts kicking into overdrive once they realize the situation. You're overwhelmed by the urge to run, but your legs become more of a hindrance to this end than an aid. They're like sticks of lead beneath your teetering body, and you find yourself taking great gasps of air just to keep moving, unable to make yourself flee or feel as concerned about that fact as you should be. Something like a growl and a taunting chuckle comes just as the shadow you're certain will crush you comes barreling downwards.

·Death doesn't come. Not for you, anyway. There's a blur of purple and then you're just able to make out Cyclonus grappling with an equally titanic lifeform, the latter of whom struggles especially savagely, likely because they've been impaled on the former's horns and are certainly not about to be set free. Cyclonus is making the most of that fact, twisting and tearing with raw strength to punish his enemy for his transgressions against his tiny partner. Tailgate is right behind him, helping to ensure the little body he watched go tumbling is alright before moving you a safe distance with words of comfort. He doesn't wait for a reply before turning on the spot and hurling himself into the fray. Tiny fists deliver superpowered punches on his helpless target, and in his defensive rage he can't help but shout at the colossal bully for picking on someone so absolutely harmless to him, but he and Cyclonus leave little chance for a rebuttal.

·There's not much left of your attacker by the time you finally manage to get your legs beneath your body, save for the not insignificant bruises they gave you. Said injury hardly explains why you're incapacitated to this extent though; you're dizzy, shaking, out of breath, and your entire body feels heavy as could be. Before you can question the issue further, you're scooped up into frantic arms, your whole world turning blue and white with shades of purple as you're embraced with a high pitched exclamation of relief. Only your lack of enthusiasm gets the little mech to stop, and as you take hold of your spinning head the two faces looking down on you twist with worry.

·Cyclonus acts first, hurrying to the few still operating terminals and trying to see if he can get a systems report up, hoping that any kind of additional information might assist them. Just knowing where more enemies are could make sure you receive obviously critical medical attention sooner. Tailgate tries to get you talking; did that alien hurt you? If so, what hurts and where and how can they help? You try to answer, but it's getting rather difficult to take this seriously, especially while you're so carefully and securely cradled. Not even a small sound of concern from Cyclonus of all bots can get you to wake up completely.

·The next thing you know everything is in motion again. There's an explanation about atmospheric generators being offline and air being dumped from the ship, and a bit of panic regarding the speed at which oxygen concentration is dropping, then something about the medical bay having a storage of elemental oxygen... Truthfully, it's a little hard to follow with everything else going on. You can't help but be a little thankful though, how many people had two loving partners ready to tear aliens apart in their defense? It had taken so much for them to come together, and in addition to that miracle, they'd welcomed you into their sparks for the happiest days of your life... you couldn't believe your fortune sometimes.

·Tailgate is the one you can see most clearly for a time, his visor bright with panic and fear in a way you don't think you've seen before. There's very little time to think on it when suddenly he's being carried too, and you see Cyclonus come into view as he runs down the halls with Tailgate in his arms and you in his, the giant bot moving with such speed that you can feel air whistling past to stir your hair. It would have felt nice if not for the tears beginning to leak from your smaller partner's visor, and as you notice those you also begin to hear his faint encouragement for you to stay awake, his gentle voice breaking as obvious worry tears at his spark.

·Above all else you want to reassure him that you are awake! Seeing him upset just breaks your heart, so despite everything you're obviously willing to try, and that feeling doubles when you spare Cyclonus a glance and see fear in his optics. The sight makes little sense to you, especially with his bloodied horns making it clear that he shouldn't fear anything. Still, you try to stay awake for them both, but it's the hardest thing you've ever done. Between the bruise on your side and the creeping exhaustion you want nothing more than to sleep. Only the buzzing of a panicking minibot keeps you from slipping away now, but as the need grows you doubt it will be sufficient for long.

·A gentle servo cups your cheek to keep you looking upwards, and you grasp it on reflex. A warm and painless darkness is closing in on all sides, and you know sooner or later it will overpower you. All you can do is try to convey how sorry you are to those two worried faces you love so much, even if you don't really understand why you need to stay awake still. You never want to let them down. They're your everything, and you theirs, which is what makes you feel so guilty when your eyes finally close.

·Tailgate is on the verge of a panic attack when the little form he's cradling goes limp in his arms. He can still see breathing, but it's haggard and uneven, and he knows that's bad. All he can do is hold them tighter and pray as Cyclonus crosses the ship in what has to be record time, and though he says nothing the large mech is similiarly fraught with dread, his spark threatening to burn at the grief looming over him. He fought so hard to be with Tailgate, then the universe blessed them with you... would they truly be forced to suffer this loss together, so soon after receiving?

·The bots in the medical bay clear out fast when they see who's inbound, but thankfully the medics are quick even in the midst of a host of injuries, though the lack of communication has made everything chaotic to say the least. All they need to hear is "oxygen" and they're moving, commanding you to be laid on a berth while the necessary components are fetched, and the two fraught mechs are laying you down as commanded. Somehow the sight of you laying unconscious in the medical bay strikes both mechs in the spark, as if your little body on the gigantic slab just seems wrong. Cyclonus only holds his softly weeping partner as you're stabilized, and neither is much motivated to leave even when the battle is declared victorious, their intertwined fingers staying firmly together as they keep watch.

·You awaken to a gentle digit stroking your face, and just as you open your eyes there's movement and a familiar shade of blue fills your vision. Tears of relief from Tailgate patter against the medical bay in your private room, and so much comes flooding back when you realize there's an oxygen mask attached to your face, and that you're still more than a little sore. Cyclonus is softly asking if there's anything you need whilst Tailgate fusses over your blankets, and when you start to fully awaken you realize their residual fear is still holding on. Guiding their hands to you, it's hard not to shed a tear as you hear weak whispers of confessed fear, with both expressing the pain almost losing you made them face. You can only thank them for what they've done, and this spurs them both to reassure you it was worth every moment of struggle, just as love has always been. This odd but wonderful love the three of you share is proof of that every single day.

#transformers #more than meets the eye #mtmte #idw #lost light #maccadam #transformers headcanon #my writing #my asks #requests #anon #cygate #cyclonus #tailgate #cygate x reader #cyclonus x reader #tailgate x reader #human reader #self insert

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costellos · 4 years ago

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Hello, pumpkin💫how are you? Hope you eat well, drink enough water and have a good sleep! Thank you so much for reopening request. You are very generous💖 May I ask you to write hc for Bucci gang about how they wanted to be comfort and how they would provide it to s/o in a moment of need? (smth like your love language piece) Thank you again, feel free to skip my request if you'll feel like that! I love you, friend🌻 Also, you are looking really great. I was happy to see your face!

hello, dear!! I just filled up my water bottle, thank you for the reminder 💕 I hope you’re doing the same! and ofc, thank you for the suggestion (and the kind words about my face reveal 🥺). this was super fun to work on, I love being able to pick apart #thefavs like this!! analyzing them in a romantic lens is just so 👀👌 I went a lil crazy as a result, but I knew you wouldn’t mind. ty again for the request friend, I love u!!!!

BUCCI GANG & HOW / WHO THEY LOVE.

➝ tw: swearing

❥ ┋ ❝ bucci gang, how they want to be comforted, & how they comfort in return!

bruno bucciarati.

how he comforts you: admittedly, Bucciarati isn’t one for physical affection. he’ll do it if it’s something you enjoy, but there are ways to love that are much more natural to him. his biggest are doing things for you. he’s very perspective to those little changes in your mood. if he senses that you’re feeling down, he’d take you out on a spontaneous date. where you go depends on what he thinks you need. if he can tell that you want something low key, he’ll take you out at sea to listen to the water and relax. if you’re in need of something different, he’ll treat you to a pop-up art gallery he think you’d enjoy. it’s during your dates that his second way to comfort you comes up: buying you gifts. it doesn’t have to be something extravagant like a new accessory, it can be something as simple as your favorite coffee shop order. ↳ quotes: “is something the matter, amore?” “hm? no, nothing’s on my mind. I just miss seeing your smile.” “I’m taking you out. ...no, you don’t get to know where. just put on something nice.”

how he wants to be comforted: once you can recognize his facial expressions and body language, telling when Bucciarati is upset is quite simple. so is comforting him. he’s an easy partner to please. all he asks is for your time. he’s big on quality time since mobster work takes up so much of his time. as such, you just need to show him that you care. this can be as simple as doing his paperwork for him, to something more elaborate like taking him out. for the latter, Bucciarati needs to be taken somewhere where he can be distracted. it can’t be someplace still like the ocean or a picnic in the vineyards. it has to be something stimulating, like a museum. he has to push whatever’s bothering him to the side. he prefers to sort through his problems by himself, so this is your best bet. ↳ quotes: “there’s just a lot on my mind. ...no, it’s nothing you have to concern yourself with.” “you... you made all this for me? I’m... thank you. I love you, tesore.” “that was thrilling. thank you for taking me out, amore. I don’t know how you do it, but you always manage to make me feel better.”

leone abbachio.

how he comforts you: Abbacchio is, unfortunately, the worst out of the gang when it comes to comforting you. he knows your bothered face far too well. and when he recognizes it, he’s not sure what to do. he’ll be there for you if you want to talk about your feelings (but it doesn’t go much further than that). he’s great for providing a listening ear in that sense. as a result, Abbacchio turns to comforting you by providing for you. I headcanon that he’s a phenomenal cook; he’d learn how to make your favorite dishes and ensure that they’re ready as soon as you get home. likewise, he’s not that great at baking, but he’d do it just for you. another way he’d try to make you feel better is through little favors. he would talk to Bucciarati about assigning you your favorite mission types and making sure your coffee / tea is ready to go in the morning. ↳ quotes: “what’s that face for?” “here. I know you really like this. I... I hope it tastes fine. it was my first time making it. ...yeah, you’re welcome.” “hey, wait. don’t forget your coffee. ...don’t mention it. I love you, too.”

how he wants to be comforted: Abbacchio is still coping with the death of his partner. it’s been years, yes, but sometimes the thought creeps in through the back of his head. when that happens, he just needs to be left alone. there really isn’t much you can do, anyway. he’d try to stay away from you because he knows that if he gets too antsy, he could snap at you. nothing physical, of course, more so verbal. the last thing he wants is to hurt you. if you want to help him, keep interactions at a minimum. don’t force him to talk, don’t force him to hold you. leave notes reminding him that you love him, make him his coffee in the morning, do his laundry for him. just try to make his life easier while reminding him that your feelings won’t change for him. ↳ quotes: “look, it’s not you, alright? just... give me some time to myself.” “thanks for the coffee.” “ugh, I’m sorry you had to see all that. let’s go out today. I don’t care where, I just want to treat you. I... I really appreciate your patience. thank you.”

giorno giovanna.

how he comforts you: Giorno is the most perceptive out of the gang. it doesn’t matter how well you think you’re hiding your emotions. he can read right through you. that said, once he detects that you’re upset, he’ll ask what he can do to make it better. part of it is that he’s not sure how you want to be comforted, part of it is that he doesn’t want to waste either of your times guessing. so he’d do whatever you want. go on a date, compliment you, make you your favorite flowers or animals from a board of wood — regardless of what you want, you can count on him to make you feel better. if you leave it up to him, Giorno would opt for just talking with you. he’s the best at comforting you via talking through the issue. he can break down the problem with ease, helping you rationalize your thoughts and what others have said to you. as a result, he gives the most logical advice out of everyone. ↳ quotes: “mm? what’s wrong, [Name]?” “no, you’re not wasting my time. I love you and I want to help you. so let me help you.” “you’re okay, [Name]. I promise. everything is okay.”

how he wants to be comforted: Giorno tries to hide his feelings from you. it’s easiest that way. less of a burden for you and him. besides, he prefers to figure it out by himself. unfortunately for him, you’ve gotten too good at reading him. Giorno prefers that you just be there for him when that happens. he doesn’t want any frills. you don’t have to guide him through the issue or treat him to dates of any kind. just give him little reminders that you care about him. he loves when you pull him into your chest in bed, but he loves it more when you volunteer to do his hair in the morning. he’s closed off due to his childhood. it’s why he won’t divulge his problems and why it took so long for him to be comfortable with physical attention. but being here with you, your fingers raking through his hair, your nails running along his scalp... it reminds him that nothing matters other than being with you. ↳ quotes: “don’t worry about me. I’m alright.” “ah, are you sure? you don’t have to.” “there’s something about you that reminds me that everything will be okay. I don’t know how you do it. but... thank you, [Name]. I love you.”

guido mista.

how he comforts you: finally, someone who’s good at physical affection! Mista loves spoiling you with lots of hugs, kisses, and anything more (wink wink). the moment he sees that you’re upset, he’d pull you into a hug and start kissing your neck. not in the romantic, sexy way. the goofy way. the way that makes you squeal and pull away because it feels funny, but unfortunately for you, he won’t stop. Mista won’t do this if the vibe isn’t right, however. he’s not stupid. if that’s the case, he’ll just sit with you and ask what’s bugging you. he’s a good listener in that he asks a lot of questions to help you navigate through the problem. if it’s a self-image issue, he would hold you and tell you all the reasons why he loves you. and he’ll talk for as long as you want him to, sharing every one of your physical and personal characteristics.

↳ quotes: “whaaa- babe! what’s with the long face?” “c’mon. let’s talk about it. tell me everything.” “for starters, I think you’re hilarious. you’re so funny you made Abbacchio snort wine through his nose, so that counts for something, right? hmm... I also love your thighs. ugh. can’t get enough of ‘em.”

how he wants to be comforted: Mista gets mopey when he’s upset. he seems sluggish, with his dragging his feet and unfocused attention. thankfully, he’s one of the easiest to comfort. Mista needs a reminder that you care about him, that you remember all those little details about him. you just need to bring him takeout from his favorite restaurant or put on a Clint Eastwood movie, even if you think all his films are corny. another option is to spoil the Pistols. he loves seeing how gentle you are with them. and that he can get a moment of silence for once. the Pistols might even give you hints as to how you can help him feel better! they’re pretty straightforward. likewise, because they’re an extension of Mista himself, any change in their mood would directly affect him, too. it’s a win-win. ↳ quotes: “you got me the tripe from Angelo’s? ...babe, that’s a 30-minute train ride from here! wow... I have to be the luckiest man alive.” “oi, leave them alone! I already have enough on my plate! ...wait, you don’t mind spending time with the Pistols? ...well. if you say so.” “you know I love you, right? I feel like I don’t say that enough.”

narancia ghirga.

how he comforts you: Narancia is also really good at physical attention. he loves holding you, tracing his finger from one of your moles to the other. he’s not as obnoxious about cuddling as Mista is. he’ll talk about whatever’s on his mind to distract you, but if you want him to be quiet, he’d be happy to oblige. he wouldn’t directly ask what’s wrong; he knows when you’re upset, he just doesn’t want to put you in a spot where you should talk about it. that’s what he would want, anyway. so aside from being more physically affectionate or leaving you gifts to make you feel better, he wouldn’t engage about what’s on your mind. Narancia is an excellent listener when you do confront him about it, though. he’ll gossip with you if you’re ranting about someone else. but he’d mostly just sit and listen, letting you divulge everything that’s on your mind. ↳ quotes: “he did that? god, he sounds like a real shithead!!” “you should just punch her. that’d solve a lot of your problems, yanno.” “don’t let it bother you too much, okay? you should put yourself first more. you deserve it!”

how he wants to be comforted: like Giorno, Narancia is closed off emotionally due to his childhood. he won’t talk about what’s on his mind, but you can tell he’s upset. he becomes more irritable and less talkative, like he’s half a second away from fighting anyone. Narancia insists that he doesn’t need any help. after all, he’s gotten this far without it. yet the moment you pull him into your arms, telling him that you love him and that you’re worried about him, that whole cool guy facade melts away. his arms wrap around your figure, his head burying itself in your shoulder. although he won’t say anything, you know that you’ve finally gotten to him. Narancia becomes really clingy after that. he wraps his arms around your waist while you make dinner. he holds your hand while you eat. he even asks that you lay down with him so that he can hold you. ↳ quotes: “what? nothing’s wrong with me. quit askin’.” “hey... can we go to bed now? ...I just... I just wanna hold you...” “hey... um... I know I can be annoying. thanks for not giving up on me. I... I love you...”

pannacotta fugo.

how he comforts you: Fugo is the best at comforting you, hands down. although he’s not as perceptive as Giorno, his photographic memory allows him to capture all the previous moments where you were upset. he then analyzes every situation and applies what made you feel better then. it’s an analytical way of handling it, but it does work. sometimes, however, people are more than numbers. during those moments, Fugo does what he does best: talking with you. he’ll want you to run through what’s bothering you, even if you try to avoid it. he insists that you need to get it out of your head. thankfully, he’s a phenomenal listener. he can switch between giving advice and offering comfort flawlessly. ↳ quotes: “hey, c’mon. you can’t hide from me. what’s wrong?” “my take? you’re overthinking this. everything will be okay, [Name]. no one hates you. especially not me.” “how are you feeling? ...better? good. please don’t hesitate to come to me. I love you and I’ll always want to help you.”

how he wants to be comforted: unlike the others, Fugo directly comes to you when he’s upset. he’s already established that he can trust you. you can tell something is bothering him when he starts getting quiet. when that happens, he comes over to you, no matter what you’re working on, and drapes himself onto you. he loves feeling how warm you are against him. that in itself is therapeutic. from there, you’re well-aware that he wants you to hold him back. to remind him that he’s loved. that he’s not a burden. he won’t say anything to acknowledge what you tell him, but you know that he’s listening. he runs his fingers over the creases of your shirt, his eyelids low. and when you’re done, he just asks that you lay in silence with him. ↳ quotes: “can we just lay here? I... I just want to be close to you.” “thank you... I love you.” “I don’t know what I’d do without you. you make my thoughts sit so fucking still. I care about you a lot, okay? don’t do anything stupid. not without me, at least.”

#bucci gang #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #golden wind #giorno giovanna #bruno bucciarati #leone abbacchio #pannacotta fugo #guido mista #narancia ghirga #headcanons #long post #swears /#moloko-tyan

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bigskydreaming · 3 years ago

Text

In a mood and I’m trying not to be, but oof. Not easy at the moment. Real life stresses are kicking my butt and I’m decidedly limited in resources for addressing that at the moment, so might as well get this off my chest, lol. Already lost the usual fifty followers or so I lose every single time I post about stuff the way I did the other day, so what’s some more, y’know?

So earlier today I tried to get my mind off things with some fic, and happened across one I hadn’t read before that promised Jason and Dick talking things out and bonding. Halfway through I sighed and went oh, this is familiar, and skipped to the bottom to check the end notes and comments to see if there was any mention of this next part, but nope. The reason for the sigh was it took me about halfway into the fic to realize that it was blatantly inspired by my post about what if Jason was missing some memories from his death/resurrection and the Pit, like specifically the ski trip they took, stuff like that. Now I’m not so egotistical as to think nobody but me has certain ideas, but its fairly easy for me to recognize when someone is basing something off a post of mine because of specific turns of phrases that I use and like, they hit ten or so bullet points from my post without missing a one. Like, there’s parallel evolution and similar ideas, and then there’s going down a check list, y’know?

And don’t get me wrong....I don’t mind people basing stuff of my posts, being inspired by them, etc. I WANT that. I’m GLAD to have that happen.

The part I mind is the way this all ties back into my interaction with fandom as a whole....and this fandom’s interaction with me. Which I don’t tend to hear NEARLY as much about as I tend to have people giving me shit about my impact on fandom....but ONLY the negative impact.

In the four years or so that I’ve been active in this fandom, I can think of only three people who have given me some kinda shout out for being the basis of one of their fics. Three people. And in that time I’ve come across literal dozens of fics that I am almost certain can trace their way back to popular posts of mine. There’s the post about Jason’s memories and the ski trip for one - this fic isn’t an isolated occurrence, I’ve found a good half a dozen or so I feel fall into the same pattern. There’s fics based off my posts about how fucked up the blame Dick got for Spyral was, with my certainty based on the fact that I know I’m the only fucking person who ever brought up various key phrases like “Bruce not having an extraction plan for Dick’s highly dangerous undercover op, leaving him stranded when Bruce got/(chose) amnesia.” I made a big deal about that in a few posts because of the fact I NEVER saw that particular element raised in any fics, and a couple months after I started including that bit regularly, I was seeing the words ‘without an extraction plan’ in every other new post Spyral fic. That’s not a coincidence.

There’s been stuff that included bits and phrasings from my post about Dick and Jason being partners who focused on helping kids who had been abused specifically....oh wait, no, my bad. The two fics I’m thinking of there lifted straight up entire lines from that post but just made it about Jason and TIM doing that instead, despite like.....the entire basis of that headcanon stemming from Dick’s juvie origin but whatever. There’s been stuff based on juvie posts of mine, stuff based on posts I’ve made about Mirage, there’s been stuff based on the post about Jason looking into why Dick was undercover as a mob enforcer and then Renegade, there’s been stuff clearly inspired by my headcanons about Jason calling Dick for advice after the Garzonas case. I could go on. There’s a fucking LOT.

I don’t try to give myself too much credit but I’m not unaware of being a loud voice in this fandom and that having an impact. And like I said, I’m not adverse to inspiring people to make their own stuff based off an idea they initially saw me present. That’s fine. People should feel free to do that. My problem is that none of this exists in a vacuum. It exists in a fandom where I regularly get people lecturing me on my presentation, people hyping up how negative I make fandom, my condescension, my anger, my hostility, etc, etc.

But the thing I never see is any awareness whatsoever that like....dudes, I’m literally just a guy on the internet. And that goes two ways. Yeah, I have an impact on people, but they have one on me too. And I’m tired and frustrated by it being acted like this is a one way street and everyone is just helpless victims of my bullying, while meanwhile SOME OF THE EXACT SAME PEOPLE GIVING ME CRAP FOR MY NEGATIVITY are ACTIVELY adding to their own fics with stuff that I JUST posted about.

And like, I see people vagueblogging about the negativity on their dashes and its impact on fandom right after I have a Dick Grayson rant blow up and get a few hundred notes......but its acted like I DID that to fandom, that’s my negativity and mine alone when its like....y’know, if you’re not following me yourself, and this stuff is still on your dash, you uh....have to be following people who reblog my negative posts for some reason or another. And given that there are obviously reasons you follow THOSE people, maybe instead of worrying about what I’M doing all the time, you can spare a thought or two for the fact that I don’t have any power to make people reblog anything, and for whatever reason, something about my oh so negative post resonated with those people reblogging it onto your dash, which also kinda suggests it wasn’t negative in THEIR eyes, but was actually a kind of validation of thoughts or feelings they already had?

Trust me, there’s no mind control ray at work here. This mood is also brought to you by the cricket sounds that come every time I fucking BEG people to reblog and signal boost posts I make about rape/abuse fandom trends and depictions from my POV as a survivor, specifically. Like I mentioned, I LOSE followers every time I bring that stuff up. It doesn’t benefit me in any way whatsoever, in fact my notes tend to go comparatively radio silent for a good couple weeks after I go off on one of those jaunts, because idk, people don’t want THEIR mutuals and followers to think they agree with some of my oh so controversial stances?

Actually, I say idk, but I do know is the thing, because people actually go on anon and tell me they appreciate me posting stuff like this, and its like.....that....doesn’t actually make me feel good? Because I never expect any single person in particular to reblog me, but when I say crickets after I post on those topics, I mean CRICKETS. I’m lucky if I can get five reblogs on those posts in total, and those are usually all from the same people. It actually kinda sucks knowing that people agree with me and what I have to say there, but they won’t put it on their own blogs because this fandom is so fucking STEEPED in its views, they don’t want to risk their friendships or back-and-forths with certain popular fandom authors by rocking the boat.

Because meanwhile I’m making myself target practice for the people who really would like me to shut up on certain topics but are too cowardly to ever confront me directly about why they dislike what I have to say there, in the vain hope that other people might finally even just START to pass some of that on even for consideration....because I can make waves by myself just by being loud and consistent, but I can’t do shit to actually make CHANGE without other people agreeing in PUBLIC so that fandom is forced to confront the fact that no, certain opinions aren’t just one loud asshole being annoying, there’s an actual viewpoint here that people actually have in greater numbers than we realized and we DON’T have as much of a monopoly on this topic as we thought.

I have anons who give me shit accusing me of driving off certain authors by making this fandom not fun for them anymore, when like, I never even fucking INTERACTED with the authors in question. Some of the names I’m accused of driving off I don’t even KNOW. I’m called an ‘abusive survivor shaming cunt’ with zero irony or self-awareness that they’re literally doing the exact same thing because they don’t like the stance *I* take as a survivor posting about how ‘some survivors use dark fic/rape fantasy to cope’ shouldn’t be treated as a monolithic defense of such things if it leads directly into the same kind of survivor shaming other people view criticism of such fic as being in the first place.

I’ve had to unfollow mutuals because I post about how reblogging posts about purity culture is a direct fucking slap into the face to people like me whose stances on fandom culture are directly based on our own personal experiences and the intersection those have with various popular fandom takes.....like you don’t have to agree with all my takes obviously, but if you can’t see how framing a naive pursuit of ideological purity as the only possible reason people object to certain fandom trends when I’m literally standing right here saying no actually, the way these fandom trends impact me is the reason for me saying the things I say when I say “here’s how this fandom trend impacts me”.....like.....c’mon.

And I’ve had mutuals unfollow me because despite following me because they liked my takes on social justice issues THEY care about, I just ‘post too much about what’s really just a personal issue’ and has no larger social relevance whatsoever, obviously. LOL. (Oh and this of course has nothing to do with them getting friendly with various popular authors on discord, who happen to be vocal about ‘disapproving’ of any fic criticism whatsoever. Just FYI, there’s a reason I haven’t followed anyone new or made any new mutuals in like....a year. I have my reasons for being....not quick about that).

I get condescended to constantly about not minding the tags, and then radio silence when I list literal examples of ways in which people haven’t tagged things correctly, tagged things at all, or literally used the tags in an attempt TO trigger people they just don’t like.

And meanwhile, allllllll of this keeps happening while the general narrative is I’m this loud asshole guy with zero concern about anything but his own personal likes or dislikes and who makes fandom a negative place that’s unwelcoming in general. And with basically zero mention of all the ways in which I’ve contributed to this fandom, the amount of content I’ve made that has DIRECTLY inspired people, and the productive conversations I’ve started which have resulted in people actually changing the way they approach various characters or dynamics in fics.

Its THAT part that bugs me, specifically.

Look, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again now.....I’m not anyone’s victim. Negative fandom interactions are negative fandom interactions. All this complaining I’m doing here - lol, that’s all it is. I’m venting. I’m pissed off and I think its relevant to a greater fandom dynamic or tendencies a lot of people unknowingly or consciously reinforce, and so I’m just fucking SAYING it because while its not something I EXPECT this post will do much to change, if at all, I would still like it to change so any effort towards that end is still better than no effort at all...hence, my posting this rather than bottling it up so at least people have it to consider.

If you don’t agree with it, if you don’t like that it exists at all, if it ruins your day to have to consider whether or not you or people you know or even like are active participants in what someone else is describing as y’know....fairly day-ruining in its own way? Hit that unfollow, that block, that make new text post button of your own and have your own rant about what a douchebag I am.

Literally all I’m trying to express is like.....fa*ndom’s got a lot to say about the stuff I have to say about fandom, but like....this is a two way interaction. A lot of people make a big deal about MY impact (again, JUST the negative though, lol) but I don’t ever see anyone ever addressing anyone else about hey maybe you could spare a thought or two about YOUR impact for a change as well.

I mean, what if....just maybe...what if.....a lot of my behavior or attitude has a lot to do with how people approach or talk about me BEFORE that display of attitude or certain behavior? Weirdly....I feel like maybe something that could then have a transformative effect on the kind of behavior or attitude people dislike from me....is.....them acknowledging or addressing things they might have done to prompt certain responses from me?

I don’t actually like being whiny or negative or down in general, just to be clear? If I see something I have a problem with or think could use change or improvement, I say so - but I pretty much always put an effort into expressing both WHY and HOW I think possible change could look - because I’m not generally interested in being negative for the sake of just being negative. I just....want things to be better. That’s not an obsession with purity or perfection, btw, I will NEVER understand how people think that survivors of rape and abuse (which include a lot more ‘antis’ than anyone else seems to want to acknowledge) and the like EVER expects perfection or thinks that the world will ever produce that - lol no I’m actually pretty clear that things being perfect is pointless, I’m just interested in BETTER.

But I mean, I like being goofy and silly and also analytical and contemplative and also creative and spontaneous. I like lots of things. I like lots of moods. I like producing, creating, generating, interacting, engaging, I like a million things more than I like THIS kind of mood, THIS kind of post.

But I’m just not someone who is content to sit and stew in that sort of thing when I know full well that the problem does not actually stem from something broken or flawed inside of me, because I’m also someone who does believe very strongly in periodic bouts of self-reflection and honest self-assessment.....so that I can change things about myself when and where I feel necessary. But this also has the effect of me also being VERY aware of when the problem is not internal, but actually just me having a perfectly valid reaction or emotional response to outside stimulus. Aka fandom’s interaction with me, every bit as much as my interaction with fandom.

So....posts like this. I’ll do my usual rituals, get myself back onto my preferred trains of thought soon enough on my own, because ultimately that is all I can control and just because I make posts like this doesn’t mean I ever EXPECT any specific result - or a result at all - to come from it.

But, y’know, sue me for being hopeful.

I know. What an ass am I?

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vhsrights · 4 years ago

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hi im here with an ask! kind of...so i forget what youve done but maybe like michael and henry playing with emily?

i love this prompt! here :)

The Tyrannical Ruler

WC: 1616

“Okay Mikey, what’s the plan? Do you have a visual on the target?” Emily leaned against the wall, looking to her partner for answers.

“Um, hold on. Gimme a sec.” Micheal ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing the floppy, blonde locks back.

--------

“Okay Mikey, what’s the plan? Do you have a visual on the target?” Emily leaned against the wall, looking to her partner for answers.

“Um, hold on. Gimme a sec.” Micheal ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing the floppy, blonde locks back.

“Got it! Agent Emmy, I think I have a plan. Henry The Ruler should have his fort in the room. We use our weapons to fight down the enemies in the beginning. Then, we crawl through the pillow tunnel. I found a weakness in his kingdom when I was looking earlier. The bunny guards leave the door open once every 5 minutes. I think we can break in through there.”

The boy spoke with enthusiasm, the wildness of his imagination twinkling in his eyes. His hands were clasped together, imitating the fake gun that his persona always carried. Today, Micheal was Agent Mikey J who fought crime endlessly alongside his badass partner, known for his quick draw and spot-on aim. He obviously took after his mother. She was Agent Emmy P, known for how she could take down the biggest of guys without the slightest of scratches. They made an unruly pair, getting themselves into quite the pickle sometimes, but always found a way out.

Today they were going after the tyrannical Henry The Ruler. The sovereign had made his way to power through dirty, back alley deals, endless hands of bribed cash, and sweet words to lull the public. He had been sitting on the throne for roughly a year and had already tossed the state into chaos. Who was better to stop him, than the two best agents in the force?

Emily nodded to the young boy in front of her, dropping to her knees. They needed stealth mode for the operation at hand. Micheal bent his knees and took meticulous steps until he reached the corner, peering his head around to take in a glance. The immediate clearing in front of them was empty, too empty. Observing further, his notice turned to the blankets that adorned their couches, sealing off the edge of what was likely Henry’s fort. A few strategically placed stuffed bunnies caught his eye on the outskirts of the pillow tunnel. Avoiding their gaze, he quickly turned back to give his report.

“I couldn’t see past the blankets but everything is how I thought it would be. There are some extra guards outside the pillow tunnel, but I think that we can take ‘em.” Micheal talked in a tone that he’d heard the BAU speak in when they did “work talk”.

Fully stepping into character, Emily pulled her sunglasses over her face and gave the final non-verbal commands. She motioned to him that they keep their eyes forward, move as quietly as possible, and split in the middle of the clearing to meet up outside the pillow tunnel. Micheal threw a thumbs up at her before taking his first steps into the living room.

They moved efficiently, easily knocking down the first line of enemies. Emily glanced over periodically, making sure Micheal was doing okay. She was so focused on him, that she missed the thin piece of string that was tucked in the couch arm and layed out, reaching mantle. She took a marginal step forward and the string tripped her balance. Before she could realize it, she’d hit the ground. Calling out to Micheal, Emily tried to figure out what had happened. She quickly uncovered the string but was then faced with a bigger problem. The thud of footsteps grew louder behind her and ‘Agent Mikey J’ was nowhere to be found.

“Freeze!” The shrill voice rang out from her peripheral vision, cracking at the end of the word.

Henry The Ruler. Agent Emmy P had been caught.

“Mikey J!” Emily tried calling out one more time, hoping that her partner heard her.

No later than two seconds later, the agile boy crawled out from behind the couch. He came face to face with the last thing he wanted to see. Emily was splayed on the ground, Henry standing above her. His smirk was devious and his eyes followed Micheal’s every movement. The Nerf gun in his hand was pointed directly at the brunette’s head.

“One more step, or one more word, and she gets it.” The boy tried to make his menacing words fill the room.

“Emmy P!” Micheal fell to his knees, his finger gun falling apart.

“I said, one more word, and SHE gets it!” Henry locked eyes with the younger boy, widening his stance to show his power.

Micheal shot a worried look at Emily, not knowing what to do. His thoughts were interrupted when Henry cocked the Nerf gun.

“You know, I’ve waited a long time for this. I knew that the agency would send people after me eventually. I just thought they’d be better. “ Henry began the supervillain monologue that he had planned in his head. “I honestly didn’t believe that the hotshot, Agent Emmy P, was so easy to capture. I guess I just overestimated you guys. Or was it you underestimating me? Either way, there’s no way out for you two now. Her life is almost up as it is, and you’re next.”

The end of Henry’s speech reminded Micheal of one important move that Emily had recently taught him when they were planning this mission. Operation Warehouse. He noticed that Emily had managed to turn her body, having full sight of what Micheal was going to do. As nonchalantly as he could, the 5-year-old raised his pointer and index fingers up to his face, tracing a line from his forehead to his eyebrows. Then, he looked straight into Emily’s eyes and winked. Henry missed the subtle signals, too wrapped up in his seemingly victorious state.

Emily saw the boy’s signals and was impressed. So he’s going that route, okay. I better try to free my hands. She shifted ever so slightly, pulling her hands out beside her body. She was still between the couch and the mantle area, but it was manageable. Henry looked over to Micheal and noticed something off. The boy’s demeanor had changed. The hope had left his eyes and his hand went up to his stomach. Micheal grunted in pain, squinting his eyes to make it as believable as possible.

“I think one of the bunnies got me.” Micheal delivered the line before slowly falling to the ground. Not willing to give up the charade, he continued. “Tell my wife and kids that I love them. I never thought that I would die on the battlefield like this. Emmy, I don’t feel so good.”

Henry grew concerned for the boy. The way that he had doubled over was scary. What if something had happened to his brother? Dropping his Nerf gun away from Emily, Henry tensely made his way over. He tried to get a better look at the boy, but he didn’t see anything. Henry crouched down, examining his brother.

“Mikey?” Henry’s words dripped with concern.

At that moment, Micheal’s eyes shot open and he threw his arms up, surrounding Henry.

“Get him, Emmy!” The boy held his brother tight, not letting Henry out of his vice grip.

“Let me go!” Henry yelped, understanding now that he had been trapped.

Emily quickly made her way over to the two boys, clasping her fingers into a finger gun. She winked at Micheal and then made the shot sound effect, letting Henry know that it was over. The boy fell dramatically out of Micheal’s grip to the side. Micheal and Emily leaned over him, his brother smiling at their successful plan.

“We got you, Henry! I did Operation Warehouse! Didn’t I do good, Emmy?” The 5-year-old looked over to his Mama for approval.

“Of course buddy, you did everything perfectly. So, Mr. Henry The Ruler, how does it feel to be defeated in your kingdom?” Emily smiled over to her other son, noting the playful disappointment on his face.

“It sucks.” Henry folded his arms, his face struggling to hold back laughter.

Just then, the front door unlocked and JJ walked in with the groceries. Two big bags were in each hand, but that didn’t stop Micheal from bolting over to her. His energy was boundless and he was practically bouncing off the ground, excited to tell his mom about their victory.

“Mommy! Mommy! Emmy and I beat Henry! I was Mikey J and she was Emmy P! We were killing the enemies, but then Emmy tripped! Henry almost got her, but I didn’t let her! I did ‘Operation Warehouse’ and saved her! I saved Emmy and got Henry, Mommy!

JJ set the bags down and turned back to her ecstatic son.

“Oh really? Wow, I’m so proud of you! What’s Operation Warehouse?” The woman’s eyebrow’s furrowed, not recognizing the term.

“I pretended that one of the bunnies got me and played dead! Henry came over to me and Emmy got him!” JJ’s eyes widened at the ‘playing dead’ part. That was probably Emily’s plan.

“Well, that’s an interesting plan. Emily, why don’t you help me unload the groceries while the boys clean up?” JJ turned her gaze over to her wife, smirking.

“Okay, sure. Boys, come on.” Emily got up and let her sons scurry past her as they went to tidy the room.

When JJ and Emily reached the kitchen, JJ spoke.

“Operation Warehouse, really Emily? Like Mother, like son I guess.” Emily chuckled.

“Hey, Micheal wanted to have a contingency plan, so I told him what worked!” She made her way to the bags, beginning to pull out the ingredients for their dinner.

“You’re crazy.”

“You love me for it.”

#momily #emily prentiss #henry prentiss jareau #micheal prentiss jareau #agents #userjemilyology #cm #jemily #operation warehouse #mc content hours

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sunnysviolin · 4 years ago

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Kel and Aubrey going around interacting with people to learn about the different cultures everywhere as they travel, wearing cultural outfits, participating in cultural activities, just having an overall good time...

Would they be good at any cultural dances? Since they're traveling to Spain first, I can just imagine Aubrey in a flamenco dress with Kel as they just dance together and enjoy themselves (or maybe Kel wearing the dress- or maybe both of them wearing dresses-)

...I kinda wanna draw them dancing around together now.

-from a videogame-world traveling anon

nonnie.....nonnie wait....if you drew something we created together I would be SO EMO WAIT!!! No oh my god like my brain literally just exploded like art?? ART??? I wanna be able to draw so bad...but I can’t I just gotta continue on w my lil writing bits....here take some more writing bits nonnie

*Singing to myself* This got lonnng againnnn I’m putting itttt under a readdd moreeeee

Kel’s parents are....less than pleased to find out their son isn’t directly going to college like Hero did, and they make that known.

They don’t approve of his choice to take at least one gap year. They don’t approve of him not continuing his education. They don’t approve of him throwing away his life for that bad girl that spent so many years terrorizing him. Even two years after changing her ways, Aubrey is still regarded as a nuisance among the town old timers. Kel’s parents tell him plainly that they don’t approve of Aubrey, and they won’t be changing their mind.

Which leads to Kel having a minor breakdown and finally admitting what he’s known his whole life- that he will never be good enough to measure up to Hero, and he’s finally tired of trying to be someone he’s not. He isn’t Hero and he never will be, but for once he wants being Kel to be good enough.

Seeing their bright positive middle child finally crack under the weight they’ve been unintentionally laying on him is...it’s painful. Kel’s parents never meant to make it a competition between their sons, they just wanted what was best for both of them.

Having Kel sobbing at their dining room table at 3:00 am on the night of his high school graduation teaches them that they might not know what’s best for Kel after all.

So...yeah the talk the morning after that is filled with a lot of awkward pausing. Kel isn’t used to sharing his true feelings, and he isn’t used to exposing anything other than cheerful hope. Ultimately they come to an agreement. Kel can go with Aubrey, follow her and his heart on their crazy plan, but he has to spend the year before they leave working and earning and not just hanging around the house

That was Kel’s plan anyway, so he’s ecstatic. He calls Aubrey immediately after, and she comes over so they can plan things out together

That year before they leave is definitely not easy. They’re working multiple retail and menial labor jobs, spending 12-15 hours a day on their feet in steamy kitchens, being screamed at by rude customers, and delivering so. many. pizzas.

At some point in that year Aubrey and her mother have the inevitable fight that has been coming her whole life, and her mother kicks her out. Aubrey shows up in the middle of the night with her things next to her. Kel’s mother welcomes her inside and gets her a cup of tea. Kel wakes up and comes downstairs the next day to see his partner curled up asleep on the couch under a blanket his mother had just finished knitting

His mother doesn’t explain anything (”It’s her story dear not mine”) but after Aubrey comes to stay with them his parents warm to her quickly. Aubrey and Kel are allowed to share the room that Hero and he once shared, but they’re adamant that the beds stay on opposite sides

((He and Aubrey fit cramped but happy into his twin bed every night, but she always wakes up early to switch beds in order to be respectful to his parents wishes))

Soon enough its the afternoon before their journey is beginning (They decided to redeye to Sevilla). They have hostel confirmation numbers for a dozen different European countries, a thick binder of plans and itineraries, and a joint account that has a surprising amount of money in it.

Turns out working 15 hours a day, taking only your eight paid vacation days, and having all of your dates be creative free dates in the five hours a week you both have off together means that you are able to acquire quite the nest egg. Kel’s parents sit them down at the dining room table, and his father is shocked to see how this year has shaped Kel.

It’s a strange thing to see your son as an adult for the first time. It didn’t feel strange when it was Hero, he always expected it from Hero. Seeing it in Kel rocked him.

They drive the two young adults (calling them kids now feels...wrong) to the airport and make them promise to call and write daily.

There’s an undeniable energy and excitement as they board the plane. He and Aubrey breathe an audible sigh of relief. They shouldn’t, but they sleep on the plane. After a year of running, they’ve earned it

OKAY SO THAT WASN”T AT ALL WHAT YOU ASKED FOR....HERE HAVE DANCE LESSON HEADCANONS

Aubrey planned for everything, so she planned that they would need at least two days to recover when they finally got to Spain. The first two days are spent in a combo of sleeping and eating fantastic food and finally being able to spend a full night in bed together instea of sneaking unsuccessfully around Kel’s parents.

She splurged and got them a private room at their first hostel in Sevilla. It was more expensive, but ultimately so very very worth it.

But day three is when they start to explore. They finally venture off of the block around their hostel and began to deep dive into the tiny back paths of the city. They meet a nice handful of locals who invite them to breakfast the next morning (Kel’s spanish speaking skills are undeniably useful to them in this moment)

And that night...that night is the beginning of the wish fulfillment she’s waited for since she was five years old. A flamenco lesson that promises an authentic experience, real outfits, and a party for all involved at the end. Aubrey was frugal with accomodations, but she spared no expense when it came to the experiences. Especially this one.

Flamenco is traditionally a single dance with one woman, but she asked and Kel is allowed to come if he likes. The instructor in charge recognizes Aubrey from her call, and drags Kel over to where another man sits with a guitar. He and the man begin to converse in Spanish, and Kel seems to be rapidly making plans. He’s fine with only watching for tonight, this is her dream

Aubrey is thrust into a room with a bunch of other tourists, even a few from her own state, and a gaggle of women who work at the studio. They show her a row of gorgeous traditional dresses, an overwhelming rainbow of frills and explosions of color.

Aubrey has let her hair go back to it’s natural color by this point, and her long dark locks catch the eye of one of the instructors who pulls her over to a corner of the rack of dresses. The instructor winks at her and pulls out a dress. It’s perfect.

Kel is also having a fantastic time. He and the guitar player who’s name is Raphael are discussing guitar playing. Raphael wants to teach Kel to play himself so “He can play for his lady when she wants to dance for him again”

All conversation stops when Aubrey walks out.

The others are dolled up as well, but Kel only has eyes for his girl. Her dress is black, hugging to her waist and her body. As the ruffles of the dress begin on her arms and her legs, the dress goes from black to a striking bright red. Around her wrists and on her neck is bright gold jewlery, gleaming against her skin.

Aubrey’s dark hair is wrapped up in a bun with a series of pink to red carnations following the curve of her hair. Her lips are tinged with maroon lipstick.

Kel is left speechless. Aubrey asks him something and Kel just has to nod and try to catch his breath. The rest of the group giggle at their antics, and Aubrey rolls her eyes at him. She presses a kiss to his cheek, maroon imprint left in its wake, and then she is over with the other girls in front of the instructor.

Raphael begins to play at the instructors insistence

The dance lesson is fun. Even just watching Kel has fun. Aubrey normally has a hardness in her eyes, a tightness in her shoulders as if she’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Within minutes of the instructors careful praise and guidance Aubrey is loose and even giggling. Kel hasn’t heard a sound like that from her since they were children.

At the end the group performs the dance all together to a raucuous applause form Kel, Raphael, and the instructor. Then they all go to the patio behind the studio which has been decked out in warm golden lanterns with a table of food prepared.

Raphael begins to play again and the others mingle close to the food. Aubrey takes Kels hand and they go to a separate corner of the dance floor. They don’t dance in any particular way, just holding one another and rocking to the melody. Her hair has begun to come out of it’s tight bun, but her eyes are bright with happiness and she can’t manage to stop smiling

That night under the glow of the lanterns is the night they first say they love each other. It was a given, they already knew it, but those words are saccharine sweet against their lips as Kel holds Aubrey close to him and they spin while the music plays.

#videogame-world traveling anon #asks #anon #omori #omori headcanons #omori headcanon #i guess #omori au #world travel au #kelbrey #omori kel #omori aubrey #omori kels parents #This is cute #I love this sm

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