#but like. at what point is it just like fuck it. the building's infested gotta demolish it. like holy shit.

[imwritesometimes]

idk just seems like a lot of ppl on here got real comfortable with telling ppl to go kill themselves again which is like ??????

[a-lucha-brother]

Oh boy, oh boy, let's talk about AEW showing that All In footage. Daddy's gotta eat!

So firstly, I think the reactions online to this have been quite frankly, and to absolutely nobodies surprise, fucking ridiculous and infested with braindead morons (welcome to wrestling in 2024)

And again, to absolutely nobodies surprise, people have completely missed the point (and how cleverly AEW took advantage of the situation to further its ongoing storylines to produce a brilliant penultimate episode of Dynamite) of why it was even done in the first place.

Because for some bizarre reason, people seem to think CM Punk is beyond criticism and revere him to be some all-knowing all-powerful demi-god of infinite credibility and power, which I personally have never bought into (I've been watching wrestling since 1994 so I've been here before, during and after Punks peak) and quite frankly as far as Punk is concerned, never seen the appeal.

For me, I've always seen this as AEW taking an obvious opportunity being presented before them to fit in what I've been assuming for a long time now, a storylined reason/way to open the door for Jack Perry to come back to AEW as not only a MASSIVE heel, but to join The Elite and become THE heel of AEW (I can fantasy book so much shit from this you need only ask).

My case and point of evidence: the fact they specifically make mention of Jack Perry and his current Scapegoat gimmick on MULTIPLE occasions. He's essentially the focal point on the entire spot. CM Punks face isn't even shown, nor is his name mentioned. AEW needed as mentioned before, a really good throughline for Jack to make a return (interfere at Dynasty to help Nicholas and Matthew win?), to create a nuclear build for the tag match at Dynasty between the Bucks and FTR, to create massive babyface momentum for FTR (again, a perfect opportunity since they're friends with Phil).

And think about it, with the promo FTR cut in the ring after, with the Kaz/Pac/FTR/Bucks clash later in the show and all round how the entire production moves around the moment - EVERYONE was in on this and EVERYONE was in tandem and in agreement with how to proceed with using this.

People want to keep pointing out Tony Schiavones reaction immediately after it. Yes, he's gonna be uncomfortable even if he's in on it all, it was a very uncomfortable situation to relive, but how everyone just moves on from it (exactly like what the whole point of FTRs promo was), he's totally fine and chill about it all.

I thought this entire segment and situation was pretty fucking ingenious and did an absolutely fantastic job of create a rocket-fueled build to the Bucks/FTR tag match at Dynasty.

If you have any issues with this, then sorry to say, bud, that's a YOU problem and you may need to grow up a bit, cause everyone else is totally fine with this and using it to make good business with and are all in total consent with each other about it (I'd even go as far as to say that even Punk is in on this too).

So with that, I'm spent, and I'll bid you adieu.

[baekhvuns]

hi sunbaenim! am back to tell u everything in detail bc i sent the last asks when i was sleep drunk right b4 goinf to bed. here it goes:

1. my roomie and one of the best friends i have since we moved in together last year due to college dated a guy for ~3 years until february when he broke up w her (important info: he goes to the same uni we do, started studying here bc of her influence. i knew him and we had a somewhat strong friendship, we used to talk a lot ab our insecurities and all. he said he adored me all the time). she got extremely sad bc she loved him a lot and even thought she'd marry him at some point. it was v difficult for me seing her so down. in march, we were talking and she asked me what my thoughts were ab some situations that happened between them when they dated and with what i said she realized she was abused. she went to talk w him ab this and at first he seemed sorry and all. but last month a friend of ours told us this guy tried to justify his abuse with something ridiculous and disgustimg im not even mentioning here AND ALSO SAID I WAS THE ONE WHO "PUT IDEAS" IN MY ROOMIE'S HEAD??????? i turned into the ex' crazy friend so he wouldnt be the one to blame, u know? then my roomie had to talk to him in private some days after we discovered that and she had to call me to "rescue" her bc he was saying the most violent things to her... i got there and i started to reply the whole MENINIST NONSENSE he was saying to her and to me at that point and in the end we said we didnt want any type of contact w him. me and my roomie got v emotionally unstable due to all of this, but now shes finally free and we're already better.

2. my roomie went for a trip and accidentally got bugs in the luggage she's taken to that trip so our apartament got infestated w them when she came back :D we had to fumigate (is this the right word) it all last week, spent a night out so the substances wouldnt poison us and in the next day spent 6/7 hours cleaning and putting all back in place. it was hell.

2.5 i kinda got a could the following day after we cleaned it all and i absolutely hate to be sick. :D

3. 2 days after having our apartment bug free, there was a fire in our building? and its very windy were we live so the fire could spread fast. roomie was in uni but i was at home and i had to be through the entire fire bc the smoke could get me sick (even more, bc i had a cold, remember?) if i tried to get out of here. fortunately it all went well, but we had no electricity until 8pm, and the fire started around 2pm.

tea spilled. thats has been my life happenings for the last 2 months. im putting my life together again now even though it has been looking like a sitcom ou smth... pls somebody tell god im not his strongest soldier i cant handle being tested anymore

-hoobae anon

HELLO!! IM ALREADY CRYING 😭😭

1. oH HE DID NOT?????? OH MY GOD FBWKDHWK HE IS SO???? not the menist oh lord 😭😭😭 HOW DID UR FRIEND EVEN LIKE HIM FHWJDHWK IM SO GLAD U SHUT HIM DOWN OH I CAN JUST IMAGE IT ANON 🫡🫡🫡🫡 ok but like the communication between u and ur friend??? top tier everyone need a friend like u

justify. abuse. electric chair.

2. STOP THIS IS A NIGHTMARE PLS WHAT THE FUCK I WISH U WOULD SEE MT FACE RN FBWNDJQK OH THIS NASTY 😭😭😭

3. fight, bugs and now fire. anon, idk the right terms but i know u gotta cleanse or sage yourself bECAUSE HELLO????? NAAAHHHH THE EVIL EYE GOT U, U GOTTA DO SOME JUJU

tea spilled, i screamed, no ur right this is like a sitcom like i can imagine the laugh tracks after u find yourself in a situation 😭😭😭 crying this is so chaotic but i guess it’s a story to tell in the future!!! im glad ur safe i hope the concert will be good tooo!!!!!

[baldwinboy5ive]

I call this Cobra Drive. AU where a sad boy meets another sad boy in his building elevator and they just stare longingly at each other for extended periods of time. (Daniel LaRusso, who made the crane kick famous, gets to add to his repertoire of bird karate moves by stomping Mike Barnes to death in the same elevator like a secretary bird.)

I also wrote some crap for this AU, even though I am not much of a fanfic writer. However, it’s not that bad. It’s just regular bad. 

“If I drive for you, you get your money. You tell me where we start, where we’re going, where we’re going afterward. I give you a five minute window when we get there. Anything happens in that five minutes and I’m yours. No matter what. Anything happens a minute either side of that and you’re on your own. I don’t sit in while you’re running it down, I don’t carry a gun, I don’t do karate - not anymore. I drive. Do you understand?” 

The well-rehearsed speech was delivered in an accent that was undeniably East Coast, but from a man who knew well the 100,000 streets of Los Angeles. Daniel ended it every single time with a secret tribute to his beloved mentor, whose life lessons were always punctuated with “Understand?” 

And Daniel did. He always understood what Mr. Miyagi had told him, and replied “Yeah, I understand,” even if some of his lessons had taken awhile to really make their impact on him. 

-----

Daniel moved frequently. It was routine now for him. Funny how things changed. He often remembered how monumental that first cross-country move had been, how the course of his entire life had shifted that summer of 1984. Now, his moves were quick, efficient, and all within LA. 

On his second day in his newest building, Daniel returned to his apartment by elevator. Another building resident stepped in with him, hauling a basket of laundry from the basement. 

He was familiar. Daniel kept his eyes trained at his feet while he felt the familiar man’s gaze on him for a moment. He allowed himself one quick glance, but didn’t manage to time it as well as he’d wanted. The golden-haired man who now shared a building with him was still staring back at him. 

His eyes were beautiful and sad. 

It was Johnny Lawrence. 

-----

“You just move back to LA or something?” was the question Johnny finally settled on after he and Daniel hauled his groceries into his second story apartment. There was too much he wanted to ask. It had been 34 years. Something in those 34 years had hardened the look in Daniel’s eyes.

“No, I’ve been here for awhile.” 

“So just new here?” 

Daniel nodded. 

“What are you up to now, LaRusso?” 

“I drive.” 

“Like, those internet car things?” Johnny asked, a touch of confusion on his face. 

“No, for the movies.” 

“You mean all the car chases and stuff?” 

“Yeah.” 

Johnny let out a soft laugh. “Isn’t that dangerous?” 

Daniel fully met Johnny’s eyes, and stared challengingly, the words “Oh, now you care about my safety and well-being?” hanging between the two of them unspoken. Daniel’s lips quirked into a slight grin. So did Johnny’s. Then Daniel knew. Johnny remembered it all. 

The intensity of Johnny’s bright blue eyes and the pain they carried eventually became too much for Daniel, who was the first to drop his gaze. He broke the silence by saying placatingly, “It’s only part time. Mostly I work at a garage.” 

“Where?” 

“Reseda Boulevard.” 

After a few more beats of silence, Daniel nodded his head towards the teen boy sitting at the kitchen table doing his homework, as if only just noticing him even though he’d rode up in the elevator with them. “He yours?” 

“They sometimes just come with the apartment. Old place here is infested. Overrun with roaches, children, teens. You might want to check under your kitchen counters and shit if you haven’t already, LaRusso.” 

The boy snorted, not offended in the least. “I’m Miguel,” he said. 

A door in the apartment slammed open, and another teen boy wandered into the kitchen. “Who’s this?” he asked, pointing at Daniel.

“This is LaRu- Daniel. Daniel, this is Robby.”

Daniel stared at the two teenagers. Neither of them resembled Johnny. Perhaps Johnny hadn’t been kidding about them surfacing from under the kitchen counters. 

-----

At the garage, a sly smile spread on the face of the man who’d given Daniel all of his jobs. “Oh, you and the kid know each other,” he said, gesturing rapidly between Daniel and Johnny while leaning over the open hood of a car he’d been working on. 

“Don’t,” Daniel warned. He stalked off, but not without grinning at his employer. 

“Uh…” Johnny began. A “He kicked me in the face when we were teenagers, but I did sort of deserve it a little, and it’s actually at least a 126 minute-long story” died on his lips. 

“We’re neighbors,” Johnny said. 

“Ahh,” said Daniel’s employer, as if that was all there was to know. 

Johnny explained in more detail what was going on with his Firebird, and was told that the repairs would take a few days. 

“Miguel, call us one of those car things from your iComputer.” 

“It’s an iPho-” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” cut in Daniel’s employer. “You and the kid are neighbors! He’d be happy to give you a ride.” 

Johnny met Daniel’s eyes from across the garage. He did indeed look happy.

---

“Hey, I know you. Come on, we met last year! Well - met again. It’s me. Snake. You drove me and Dennis back from Palm Springs. Hey, I got this sweet job planned out --” 

Fury blazed in Daniel’s eyes. Someone both recognizing him and talking to him about his jobs was more than enough to make Daniel disappear for a few months, but this wasn’t just any someone. This was one of Terry Silver’s men. Over the years, Daniel had done everything he could to be free of Terry and his mob. But every time Daniel thought he was safe, eventually, Terry would always come back. And there would always be a job. 

Terry’s man - and therefore Terry himself - reappearing in his life would have been bad enough before, but now? Now he had Johnny. He couldn’t just pick up and leave. He realized with anger burning up in his chest that he didn’t want to pick up and leave. 

Daniel cut Snake off with a low whisper. “How about this? Shut your mouth. Or I’ll kick your teeth down your throat, and shut it for you.” 

All Daniel had wanted was to finish his dinner and coffee in peace, until it was time to drive Johnny to the bar for his night shift. Daniel stared at Snake, never taking his eyes off of him until Snake quietly retreated from the diner. Only then did Daniel feel comfortable returning to his food.

-----

Daniel’s face took on a detached and aloof manner when he addressed the man Terry had sent. 

“When you get your money, his debt’s paid. He’s out for good. And you never go near his family again. Do you understand?” 

-----

Daniel did everything in his power to keep his voice even. Confident. Balanced. But that voice on the other end of the phone would always terrify him. Some things never changed. 

“I’m going to give you a time and a place and you’re going to come and get your money. Do you understand?” 

Terry barked out a laugh. “What do you get out of it, Danny boy?” 

“Just that: out of it.” 

Daniel hung up. For once he had the satisfaction of dictating terms with Terry Silver. 

-----

“They came to my apartment. How did they know where I live?” 

“I told you, I was going to call Kreese, I just wanted him to know that… that it wasn’t about the money… that you’re not interested in the money… that you just did it for him.” 

Daniel exploded at the man who had been his longtime employer. So this was how Kreese and Silver and known it was him. “Why?! You told them about Johnny! Why did you tell them about Johnny?!” 

“Calm down, kid. Just calm down.” 

“I should fucking kill you - you told them about Johnny! That’s how they figured it out, you know - that it was me. You told them about Johnny and then they knew it was me.” 

“I just wanted him to know… that as soon as you returned the money, that was the end of it, that’s all! I didn’t know. I didn’t know. How was I supposed to know?! How was I supposed to know… that everything led to Silver!” 

Daniel’s voice was breaking as he screamed at the old man. Daniel’s eyes were wild and he was breathing hard. Breathe in, breathe out, echoed the voice of his dear sensei in his head. Soon, his racing heart slowed just enough for him to calmly tell his employer, “They came for me, and now they’re going to come for you, too. You have to get out of here. Do you understand?” 

-----

John Kreese pleaded with his lifelong friend. “Anybody finds out you stole from the family, we’re both dead. The money always flows up, Twig. You know that!” 

Terry Silver fell uncharacteristically quiet amidst their shouting match. He looked at Kreese ruefully. “That’s why this driver’s gotta go, Johnny. That’s why he’s gotta go. He’s gonna tie me to this robbery.” 

It was too bad. Terry had always been fond of Daniel. 

-----

Daniel hoped he would never again have to fear for Johnny’s and his kids’ lives. He flicked his eyes up to the rearview mirror. Miguel and Robby were fast asleep in the backseat - and safe. Alive. 

Daniel did, however, find comfort in knowing that he didn’t have to pretend anymore, didn’t have to keep his karate hidden and tucked away. If Johnny ever needed it again, Daniel would use it. He’d help Johnny remember his. He thought fondly of the way Mr. Miyagi had once insisted that only Daniel’s root karate came from Mr. Miyagi, and had urged him to make his karate his own. 

If Daniel could do it, so could Johnny. Johnny’s Cobra Kai would be better - different, new. A product of the goodness Daniel was confident Johnny had inside of him. Johnny would use that goodness to teach Robby and Miguel. And Daniel vowed to be there with them. 

If anyone ever again tried to hurt any of them, the four of them would be ready. 

Another Mr. Miyagi lesson surfaced in Daniel’s memories as he continued driving. Back in 1994, Mr. Miyagi had returned to Daniel in LA after a long stay in Boston, and over the course of several days, had told him all about Julie Pierce, and the lessons he taught her. The final lesson had been: “Fighting not good, but if must fight - win.” 

That was what Daniel had done. 

Daniel smiled at the beautiful man in the passenger seat next to him, whose sadness never left his eyes, but who, despite this, could now smile back warmly at him. Daniel checked the rearview mirror once more, never taking his attention from the road ahead of them. Miguel and Robby were both still asleep. 

Daniel turned his gaze back to the road for a moment, feeling the hum of the car around him and those he loved. 

“I’m yours. No matter what. Do you understand?” 

-----

OH SHIT i forgot to mention, the idea for the cobra on the back of the jacket AND for including Robby both come from @idontknowkaratebutiknowcrazy !!!! Thank you for your moral support and help on these concepts! I always knew I wanted Daniel to be the Driver, so it didn’t even OCCUR to me to have the cobra on his jacket, until @idontknowkaratebutiknowcrazy said it, and then she said he can give it to Johnny later (even though it won’t fit him haha!). Just a note - I changed up the cobra design from the Cobra Kai logo though because the original logo looked kinda goofy as a silhouette. 

[nightswithkookmin]

OK I'M AWAKE

And I have A LOT TO SAY.

A. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED YESTERDAY?!

B. Anyone want to help me build a time machine?

No seriously, someone tell it to me why the most hard working artist in the galaxy the world have ever seen hands down didn't bag that stupid irrelevant pretentious piece of crap they call Grammy.

What's the criteria?

White?

American

European?

Oh Talent?!

Funny you should mention Talent you racist piece of shit.

It doesn't get more talented than this👄💄

Or THIS 💅🏾

Or this quite frankly 😌

I mean look at him. Beautifully talented I'd say😌🥂

If it's Talent they want, then I think BTS should have won several Grammys by now-

And yes, I saw all those categories and artists you gave trophies to...

Best dance, best contemporary blah blah-

Here you go.

Now were is the Grammy for Black Swan?🔪

In fact, WHERE IS THE TROHPY FOR THE ENTIRE MAP OF THE SOUL SEVEN ALBUM!🤺

What does BTS have to do???????? 😫

They be jumping through hoops for years, years now. And year after year, it's been fuck you, and fuck you, and fuck you!!!!!

FUCK YOU.

I know y'all know damn well they can't work harder than they already do. They just can't kill themselves for this shit uno.

"They not asking for a free ride."

"At least they showed up."

"You showed them nothing' you fraudulent eurocentric bastards. Eat shit.

Rain On Me is a bop... in 1950? Come now😞

This gotta be a joke.

THE STONE AGE CALLED, THEY WANT THEIR SCHTICK BACK, you loser!

Seriously, how ancient is the academy!!!

Personally, I like the song. It's been done one too many times through generations. Nothing experimental. Nothing new. It's empowering and liberating and as a strong queer woman, I get it. The Academy have long been accused of sexism, with their nominations and voting process accused of being dominated by cis White misogynist and sexist men and so moves like this would be redemption ploy to salvage their stinking reputation. Bless their hearts, they thought they did something🤣

This ain't it. They just masking one nasty infestation with another- racism.

They wanna be dumb? I'll give them dumb-

ROM is not a popular song when untill it won the scamy last night no one knew about it💀

And those of us who knew of it had totally forgotten all about it in a span of months😵

How you gone win a pop duo song when your song is not even a pop song?

Gotta match their energy uno😌

"They have a good rhythm, a catchy melody, and are easy to remember and sing along to. They usually have a chorus that's repeated several times and two or more verses. Most pop songs are between two and five minutes long, and the lyrics are usually about the joys and problems of love and relationships."

Rain on me is about love and pains of life and relationships yadda yadda- but it doesn't have a catchy melody that is easy to remember and sing along.

If Yummy had won, honestly it would have made sense- and it wasn't even nominated in that category. Lmho.

Intentions.... that's pop music???😲

I think they need to expand the pop genre to make room for nuances within the category.

Intentions is not Pop music.

Rain on me is not Pop music.

I think Yummy is as deep as the scamy electors and voters muscial knowledge but at least it's catchy and memorable🤧

Girl you got that yummy, yummy, yummy, yummy. You got that yummy, yummy, yummy, yummy.

Girl you got that yummy, yummy- ok you get the point I'm trying to make. Lol.

Know what else is catchy and memorable?

Dy-na-na-na, na-na, na-na, ayy

Dy-na-na-na, na-na, na-na, ayy

Dy-na-na-na, na-na, na-na, ayy

Light it up like dynamite

I see it, I want it, I stunt, yellow-bone it

I dream it, I work hard, I grind 'til I own it

I twirl on them haters, albino alligators

El Camino with the seat low, sippin' Cuervo with no chaser

Just because a song has elements of pop music don't make it pop music.

Maroon 5, girl like you ft Cardi- that's Pop music. ROM sounds like an old school pop sound.

Is that why they nominated it? They were feeling nolstagic? They missed the 50s and 70s? Or early 2010s?

Most genres of music such as R&B are all sub genres of pop music. In my humble opinion, you dumb ass Academy, don't make the pop.

Blinding Lights, Intentions and Rain on me belong to the same category and they all don't belong to the Pop category regardless of whether Gaga is a pop singer or not.

Anywho, like the CEO of the Academy said, music is subjective and frankly what do we know. We come from modern times where Hogwarts is a myth.

In conclusion, the Grammy is trash, the Academy is trash, the voters are trash, the process is trash, BTS deserved better.

They are constantly being exploited in the industry by a bunch of nobodies of yore I don't care about, who are racist on top of their brain deadry.

Y'ALL SUCK ASS!

I haven't watched their post scamy VLive because I can't bring myself to watch it.

No one should bring it up or talk about or ask me anything about that Vlive else you will get blocked and muted.

All I want to see in my Ask are memes disparaging the scamy and cussing them back to whence they came from.

Signed,

GOLDY

[ghostly-cabbage]

Frigid (Chapter 6)

Genre: Horror, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers  

Chapter Rating: T (Language)

Word Count: 6,435

AO3  FFN

<<Previous | Next>>

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

And here Danny thought he was done with getting punishment for the day. He hit the gym floor: hard. 

It made his vision go black for a second. Fucking ow. If he got another concussion he was going to be pissed. At this point he was giving the football players a run for their money.  

His awareness came back to him in spots at first, dancing across his vision, then all at once. Lucky for him—it was just in time to see Skulker firing another volley of ecto-missiles at him. 

Shit.

He curled up and summoned a dome shield. The projectiles exploded on contact one after the other. It deafened the sound for the most part, but he still felt like a fish whose glass bowl was being tapped on. The explosions ceased, green tinted smoke obscuring his sight.

Danny didn’t wait for the dust to settle. He dropped his shield and launched himself straight up at the place he’d last seen Skulker, fist coming into contact with the bottom of Skulker’s chin. The ghost grunted, sailing upward and punching a second hole through the roof of the gym. 

Danny cringed as glass, broken light fixtures, and wood fell down. At least it was the weekend. There’d probably be enough time to patch it up. What was a little more property damage on his record, right? 

Ugh.

“For once you had great timing,” Danny said to the empty room. His legs melded together into his tail and he listened carefully to his surroundings. “If I didn’t know any better, Skulker, I’d almost think you’re stalking me.” There was a beat, before the sound of a net launching from a gun broke the silence. Danny twisted on instinct, narrowly dodging the net. It whooshed past and stuck to the wall behind him.

Skulker returned to visibility. He floated across from Danny, scowling. 

He growled. “Silence, whelp. It’s easier to lure you out when you’re not busy being a prisoner in this human infested place.” 

Well, that was half of it at least.

“Aw, so you do care about my schedule. I’m touched.” Danny pressed the palm of his hand over his core. His tail flicked and he crossed his arms. “But you know that shit you just pulled isn’t going to fly.” 

“Please, Ghost Child,” Skulker sneered. “I was merely toying with those puny humans. I wasn’t going to harm them.” 

“Ever heard of psychological trauma?” Danny dead-panned. He didn’t wait for an answer and fired an ecto-blast straight at Skulker’s chest. It connected with a hollow crack and Skulker let out a shout. He dropped ten feet before catching himself. Danny rushed forward, aiming a kick to the side of his face. 

Skulker held up his arm, blocking the blow with the back of his forearm. The force of the kick resounded against the metal with a clang. 

Danny pulled back out of close range, noting the sizable dent in Skulker’s arm. 

Skulker roared and held up his arm to fire a wrist-ray. Danny strafed to the side, expecting the hot fizzle of an ecto-ray. But nothing happened. 

They both paused, Skulker's eyes narrowing. He inspected his dented arm. 

“Now look what you’ve done, brat.” 

Danny lifted his arms in an exaggerated shrug. 

Skulker held his arm out, attempting to fire the ray again. Nothing. The ghost made a frustrated sound. 

“Here, maybe this’ll help.” Danny’s breath went icy as he shot a jagged spike of ice at Skulker's arm. He watched with giddy satisfaction as the ice punctured and tore a hole through the metal. 

Skulkers arm exploded. 

Danny squinted against the flash of green, going intangible to avoid the metal shrapnel. He blinked the inverted spot from his vision. Skulker’s arm was completely gone, leaving nothing but a jagged hole with wires that stuck out, arcing thin forks of electricity. Danny bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He floated on his stomach, steepling his hands underneath his chin.

“Sucks, man. You never wanna overload a jammed ecto-weapon.” He clicked his tongue three times in a row, shaking his head. “You’d think such a great hunter would know that.” 

“Of course I knew that!” he snapped. “You’ll pay for this, Ghost Child.”  

“Oh no, I’m so terrified,” he said, grin plastered across his face. Man, two days of R&R really did a ghost some good.  

“Insolent whelp,” Skulker said. A mechanical arm extended from his back, unleashing a football-length green rocket that headed straight for Danny. It looked like a homing missile. 

Danny shot upwards out through the bigger of the two holes. He put on the brakes, and skirted to the side just as the missile zipped up past him. He let energy build in his palm. 

The thing about homing missiles was most of them weren’t great with tight turns. The rocket spluttered as it twisted to come straight back down. It made it an easy target. 

He fired an ecto-blast. It exploded on contact in a brilliant sphere of green. Danny phased back down through the roof. The explosion shook the lights, making them flicker more, but it’d been far enough up it didn’t cause any other damage. 

Danny twisted in mid-air and flew at Skulker. His eyes widened and he turned his defenseless side away from Danny, back-peddling. 

He fired an ecto-ray at Skulkers undamaged shoulder. He didn’t pack as much power into it as he could have. He banked, cutting an elliptical circle while holding the ray on target.

“You know, as much as I appreciate the practice, we’ve gotta stop having these here at school.” He didn’t let up on the beam until he’d flanked Skulker. He zipped in while the ghost was still recovering. 

He went with the same roundhouse that Skulker had blocked before. His foot slammed into the side of Skulker’s head, sending the hunter spinning sideways. Danny charged a blast in his palm. He lifted up his left hand and squinted his right eye closed, using his thumb to line up his shot. Who said he was only a show off when people were watching? 

At the moment Skulker stopped tumbling and righted himself, Danny unleashed his blast. It hissed through the air and Skulker had no hope of dodging it. It slammed into the shoulder joint of Skulker's good arm which, already weakened by Danny’s ray, popped off like the limb of a cheap action figure. 

Skulker let out a wordless scream of frustration. 

A smug grin worked its way onto Danny’s face. He was getting too damn good at this, if you asked him. 

Danny closed the gap between them. He grabbed the holes where Skulker's shoulders should have been and somersaulted forward, flipping the ghost over his head. Danny threw him down, directly into a basketball hoop. 

Skulker, of course, being much larger than a basketball, didn’t make it through. Instead, his head wedged into the hoop, his legs churning helplessly in the air. 

Danny spluttered. “Oh my God.” He burst into laughter, wrapping his arms around his stomach. 

“Oh my God, I wish I had my phone. That worked even better than I thought it would, holy shit.” He dropped a few feet in the air involuntarily.

“Laugh while you can, Ghost Child,” Skulker grunted. He could easily phase out, but he seemed to know when he was defeated.  

Danny leaned back, rotating upside down in the air as he laughed. “Of all times that Sam and Tuck aren't here.” He wiped a tear from under his eye. “Hey— Hey, Skulker.” He flew up to Skulker. 

He glared at Danny through the net. 

“This is what we kids today call getting fucking dunked on.” Danny snorted and descended into more laughter. 

“You’re enjoying this far too much, whelp.” 

Danny held his sides until the hilarity of the visual started to die down. His breathing evened out and the tickle in his chest faded.

“Hey, the amount of times you’ve trapped me in something awful, I think I deserve this.” He sighed, content, his shoulders sagging as a last chuckle left him. “This is exactly what I needed after detention today.” Danny reached for the thermos on his belt. 

“Anyway—” he uncapped the thermos “—same time next week, then?” He pressed the button and the thermos kicked on. He pointed the beam at Skulker, watching as it dragged his warping form into its confines. 

The thermos dimmed and Danny twirled it in his palm, blowing the wisps of smoke from its end. He really needed to empty it when he got home today. 

“What is that? How’d it do that?” 

“Holy F—” Danny jumped. The thermos slipped from his grasp and he fumbled it a few times before he caught it and pulled it back against his chest. He turned towards the voice, shocked to see a familiar face. 

Wesley-fucking-Weston.

He was peeking in through a gap of a gym door.

What the fuck? 

“Uh... How long have you been standing there?”

And how the hell had Danny let a human sneak up on him? Let alone some gangly asshole who didn’t seem to have an ounce of self-preservation in his whole body? 

Wesley hesitated, scanning the gymnasium again. He stepped the rest of the way into the gym. 

“Uhm, for a bit?” 

“Right… and where’s your friends?” Danny slowly floated backwards. 

Why was this dude determined to be up in his business? As afraid as Wesley looked the first day of school, Danny thought he wouldn’t willingly get within a mile of another ghost. Guess he was wrong.

“I ditched them and snuck back into the building,” he said, like it was obvious. “People here at school say you’re a ‘good’ ghost,” he added. Danny’s eyes drifted around the room as he contemplated turning invisible and flying through the roof. 

Was he going somewhere with this or…? 

“Are you?” 

His eyes snapped back down to Wesley. 

He cleared his throat.“Uh. I try to be?” Danny was no stranger to students at Casper approaching him after a fight to try and talk or even flirt with him. He shuddered at the amount of times Paulina or even Dash had asked him to hangout or go get something to eat. 

But this wasn't like those times. Danny hated to admit he was genuinely intrigued, and even impressed by Wesley’s audacity. 

“If you’re unsure enough to be asking, why would you come alone?” He hadn’t meant it to be threatening, but Wesley took half a step back towards the door. He licked his lips. 

“Because I have questions about ghosts.” 

 Danny’s face twisted. He hooked the thermos back on his waist and ran a gloved hand through his hair. “Why ask me? Listen— there’s plenty of people in Amity that know about ghosts. You don’t need to ask a real one.” 

Wesley lifted a hand and rubbed at his temple. “Yeah, but all they ever talk about is you. Either how great you are or how you’re secretly a menace to society.” 

Huh, he must have talked to Valerie. 

“Then what question is important enough you decided to approach a ‘dangerous’ ghost… by yourself?” 

“I just—I want to know why ghosts here are so different, and who better to ask than an actual ghost? I guess I figured with how much people drool over you that you were the least likely to kill me. I mean you could’ve on the first day if you’d wanted to… There’s obviously some truth to what people say about you.”  

Danny blinked. Okay, that made some sense. But then… 

“Why do you want to know that specifically?” 

Wesley turned his head. “It’s personal.” 

...Alright, sure. 

He let out a long suffering sigh.

“Listen, I hate to disappoint, Person-I’ve-Never-Met-Before, but I haven’t really been outside of Amity Park much…” He knew the answer, of course he did, but he didn’t exactly go around as Phantom spouting off his ghost knowledge. There were things about ecto-biology he knew that only a Fenton would know... and some things only a half-ghost would know.

Wesley looked stricken. It was a weird look on him.

“But you’re still a ghost, can’t you just—” he flexed his hands in front of him like he was trying to grasp something— “make an informed guess?” 

Ugh, God.

Danny dragged a hand down over his face. 

Fine. 

“If I tell you what I think, will you actually get the hell outta dodge the next time there’s a fight?” When people tried to stick around, they were more likely to get caught in the cross-fire. While Danny wasn’t exactly fond of the dude, that didn’t mean he wanted Wesley hurt. The thought of him or anyone getting hurt because of him made him twitch; he ignored the spike of nervous energy that thrashed in his core. 

Wesley looked up at him, blinking green eyes. 

“Wait, that’s it?” 

“I’m dead, dude. What else could I want?” He’d love for Wesley to leave him, Fenton him, alone entirely. But he’d take what he could get.

Wesley faltered. “I dunno.” He muttered something else under his breath, something a normal human would have missed: “doesn’t make sense why you’d want that either though.” 

Danny shook his head and floated down a bit. “If I had to guess, it’d be because of the portal.” 

“Portal?” 

“Yeah, the Fenton Ghost Portal?” That at least was common knowledge around Amity now.

Wesley squinted his eyes. 

“You haven't heard of it?” Danny asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know! I’m new here!”

“Clearly.” 

Wesley made a face like he was about to say something stupid. “Okay, sure, there’s a portal. What’s it have to do with ghosts?”

Holy hell. 

Why was he doing this again?

“It’s’a portal directly into the Ghost Zone, dude,” he said incredulously. “Ya’know, The Infinite Realms? Land of the Dead?”

Wesley paled. 

“Wait that’s… How’s that possible?” 

“How should I know? Do I look like a scientist to you?” 

“I mean… Kinda?” He gestured vaguely to Danny’s person. 

He looked down. Oh yeah, hazmat suit. Right. 

Danny wiggled in place. “Not the point, alright? Are you going to keep interrupting me?”

Wesley made a face. “You’re the one asking me questions!” 

Danny waved a hand, flustered. “Okay, okay, shut up.” God, Wesley was so annoying. “Portals open up naturally all over the world, ‘kay? Well, here in Amity there’s a stable portal that stays open, meaning a constant influx of Ectoplasm. Ectoplasm is an energy source.” 

“Which means...?” 

“I’m getting there.” He twitched his tail. A motion which seemed to confuse Wesley, if his expression was anything to go by.  

“Ghosts are made of ectoplasm, and use it for energy blah, blah.” Danny twirled a hand. “What I’m saying is that here, ghosts have almost constant access to the Ghost Zone and Ectoplasm. It means unlimited energy. Ghosts without access to ecto-energy have to try and build up energy from other ambient sources like electronics, peoples emotions, weather, you name it. It takes forever to build up enough to materialize or interact with humans or solid objects. So ghosts in other places are probably less solid, making sightings and interactions fewer and far between.” Danny blew out a breath. “That answer your question?”  

Wesley was silent for a second, face wrinkled in thought.

“I guess… That makes sense—but—” 

“Cool, glad to help. Well, this has been—something. But I’ve gotta—” Danny started, only to get interrupted when someone burst through the gym door. Wesley jumped, letting out a less than manly yelp. 

It was a basketball player with tan skin and broad shoulders. One of the Seniors if Danny remembered right.

“Jesus Christ, dude, there you are! Do you have a death wish or—” the dude stopped short as his eyes landed on Danny. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “P—Phantom!” He had that deer-in-the-headlights look that people gave him. 

“Hi.” He held up a hand in greeting. “Anyway, I got the ghost, so…” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m just gonna...” 

He went invisible and headed in the direction of the nearest supply closet. He still had to get his stuff before he went home. 

“Imma big fan!” the basketball player called after him into the empty air. He smiled and shook his head as he phased through the wall of the gym. 

- 

Danny was half-way down the hall from the entrance, human once again with his bag heavy on his shoulder, when the doors flung open and two familiar silhouettes filled the entryway. 

Oh no. 

“Everyone outta the way! That ghost won’t know what hit it once we—” His dad’s booming voice stopped when he saw him. 

“Danny?” his mom called. She pushed past his dad and lowered her ecto-weapon. “Sweetie, what are you doing? Are you okay?” She hurried up to him. The surface of her goggles made it impossible for him to see anything but his own reflection. Her voice was tight and gentle as she grabbed him by the chin, turning his face this-way-and-that to suss out any injury. 

Danny silently thanked whatever higher-power might be listening that he didn’t have any bruises on his face. His back was probably another story. He hadn’t stayed in ghost-form long enough to heal it. His backpack hurt everywhere it was in contact with him. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, leaning away and trying to wave her off. Her hand dropped and she gripped him by his shoulder. 

“One of your teachers called and said there was a ghost and the alarm wasn’t working.”

“Oh, that’s crazy. Why didn’t it go off?” 

Dad came up to stand next to his mom, Fenton Bazooka hefted on his shoulder. 

“Don’t know Dann-o, but we intend to find out!” 

“Uhm, I heard stuff coming from the gym a bit ago actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sufferin’ spooks! Come on, Mads, before we miss it!” His dad said and took off down the hall. 

His mom took a few steps to leave before she turned to him. “We’re going to be having a talk about your detention today, so no going to Sam or Tucker’s, alright?” 

He sighed and shoved his left hand in his hoodie pocket. Of course Mrs. Merriweather had called his parents. 

“Fine,” he huffed. 

“Love you, hun!” And then she was off. 

Detention during the first week. His parents must be so proud. He ran his fingers through his hair, digging his fingertips in and messaging his scalp, mussing his hair.

He’d said he’d try harder this year, and he’d meant it. Even though it didn’t feel like it there had been a steady downtick of ghost attacks. Had been since after Pariah Dark and that whole mess. Hell, even the thing with Skulker was more like a game nowadays than it was serious. 

But that didn’t mean all ghosts felt the same way. Especially the ones that popped up now and again to “test their skills on the one who’d bested Pariah Dark in combat”. Those were the worst.   

Danny pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the group chat. 

Dead “Allegedly”: Hey Tuck did u disable the school ghost alarm? 

He wasn’t even at the bottom of the Casper steps when a reply chimed in. 

Hacker (Derogatory): Nah, man. I wish tho 

Emo’s Not Dead: Why? 

Dead “Allegedly”: Just wondering, Skulker showed up and the alarm didn’t work or smth

Hacker (Derogatory): huh, maybe he disabled them? 

Dead “Allegedly”: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

…

My parents know I got detention so I can’t hangout tonight. Didn’t say anything about games tho, Doomed later? 

Emo’s Not Dead: Hell yeah, hope you guys are ready to get owned lmao 

Hacker (Derogatory): Bro, do you even have to ask? I’ve been working on a new loadout and not to brag but it’s pretty sick 

Danny rolled his eyes and put his phone back in his pocket. The Ghost Assault Vehicle was parked up over the curb and onto the grass in front of the school. Dad must’ve drove. He didn’t really want to walk, he needed to make sure he had enough time to sneak into the lab and flush the thermos. 

He walked up to the back of the GAV and pulled the handle. The door unlatched and swung open. Another thing that proved Dad drove. He never remembered to lock the GAV or the Speeder. 

Danny hopped in and tugged the door closed behind him. He reached for his core and the icy transformation washed over him. It eased the ache in his back and he breathed out a sigh of relief. He turned invisible and slipped up through the roof. He turned towards home and started flying. 

The sun hadn’t set yet, and wouldn't for another hour or so, but the shadows were still long. He could feel the sun’s dull warmth through the material of his jumpsuit. The nights were already getting longer and colder. The wind whisked past him with the type of fall chill that cut straight through sweaters and coats. The streets and cars blurred underneath him and a thought bubbled up from the back of his mind. 

He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel cold. 

Not in the human way, the “coming in from outside and sinking into soft blankets with a cup of hot cocoa” kind of way. The negative temperatures of the Far Frozen, of space, hadn’t fazed him since his cryo-core settled.

Like a stone settling in his stomach, he wondered what else he’d start to forget about being fully alive as the years went by. He tried to push the thought into the back of his mind.

The amalgamous shape of the Ops Center glinted in the evening light ahead of him. Danny flew around the side of the building and phased through the wall directly into his bedroom. He tossed his bag towards his desk.

He turned human again a few feet above his bed. He let gravity take hold of him, falling onto the mattress. He bounced a bit before sinking into its surface. His back felt better already. He sighed, wondering if he could get away with a nap before dinner. 

Maybe. Provided a ghost didn’t show up. 

He peeled himself up off the bed and crouched by his bag. He snatched the thermos and headed downstairs. 

The portal hummed, the only noise in the otherwise silent lab. His soft-soled sneakers patted quietly over the metal panel floor. Danny uncapped the thermos and flushed its occupants back into the Ghost Zone. He puffed some hair out of his eyes and closed the now empty thermos. 

Right. Nap. Suffer through the “you need to try harder young man” talk. Then Doomed. It was their second “weekend” this week. He wanted to try and have some fun. After the shitty start to the week he deserved it.  He’d worry about his homework later.  

***

Saturday night brought dark roiling storm clouds that blotted out the stars. The wind howled, stripping orange and red leaves off their branches. The air tasted of rain and stray drops peppered the grey pavement beneath him.

Danny flipped up the hood of his hoodie as he skirted the edge of Amity’s Central Park. Just because he was immune to the cold didn’t mean he liked being rained on. He could stay intangible if he wanted but he was way too lazy for that. 

He flew a languid loop in the air as he changed directions to head towards the mall. It’d been a quiet patrol, nothing out of the ordinary. 

Which, on a night like this, made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. There was a lightning storm building up high in the clouds—which meant more ambient energy. He could feel it the same way he could feel heavy concentrations of ecto-energy. The buzz on his skin, soupy and dense. It tore him in two directions, amped on the energy and nauseous at the feeling of electricity. 

Why couldn’t it have been a snow storm? 

He tucked his gloved hands into the pocket of his hoodie and meandered over the parking lot, careful to fly below the power lines and telephone poles. 

A shiver prickled down his spine and he hiccupped over a cloud of mist. Yep, right on time. He heard distant screams coming from the mall.

He perked up, shooting towards it, the roof of the mall a grey streak. As he got closer he could tell what part of the mall he was headed towards. 

Best Buy. Great. 

Danny heard glass shatter and a stream of floating electronics burst out through the sides and ceiling windows of the mall, a maniacal cackling laugh from above him. 

“Technus,” Danny acknowledged, eyes narrowing. The levitating electronics whisked past him and circled Technus. 

“Oh, yes! It is indeed I, Technus!” he cried. His voice grated on Danny’s ears and he pushed his hood back down with a hand. 

“What’s up? Mad I wiped the floor with your boyfriend on Friday?” Danny grinned, floating up to be eye level with Technus. 

The ghost choked, swallowing his laugh.

“What— I— No! How dare you, Child,” he snapped. The wind whipped past them. “I’m here for my own gain! How dare you insinuate that Skulker and I are anything more than—” 

“Huh, I never mentioned Skulker specifically,” Danny said dumbly, tapping a finger against his chin. 

“Why you—” Technus lifted a hand and a clump of electronics flew at Danny. He dodged with a laugh. 

“Everyone knows, it’s okay,” Danny called. He forced energy into his hand, flinging a few blasts at Technus. 

The other ghost ducked under one, blocking the other with a wall of technology. He glared at Danny and pulled the machines towards himself. Like pieces to a puzzle, the tech slotted onto his skin, creating a makeshift canon. 

“You know, Child, the capabilities of modern technology grow faster and more powerful by the year.” The cannon whirred, the inside going from black to a glowing green. “Can you guess who that benefits most?” Technus said over the wind. It fired and Danny scrambled to bring up a shield in time. 

 “You’re fast as ever, child, but we’ll see how well you can stand up to a few more!” He fired, this time the ecto-blast hit harder. Hairline cracks appeared in Danny’s shield. 

Uh-oh. 

With a whine the cannon shot again. Danny dove straight for the ground just as it shattered his shield. Technus laughed. 

Okay, so he needed to avoid getting hit by that, holy shit. Danny glared up at Technus. His mind churred, trying to come up with a way to get an opening to use the thermos. If he could just—

A flash of pink streaked through the sky. It struck Technus in the center of his back and he dropped with a scream onto the roof of the mall. The technology, no longer being controlled, started to rain down. 

A red flash and the sound of a jet sled drew Danny’s attention. 

Valerie.

She twisted mid-air, the nose of her board pivoting as she drifted to a stop. 

“Hey, Red!” he called out to her. She turned her head towards him, the eye panel of her mask reflecting his cold glow. 

“Phantom,” she said. It didn’t hold as much of its usual contempt. She must be in a good mood. She also wasn’t shooting at him. He smiled and decided he’d try his luck. 

“How about a truce?” He flew towards her. 

“Why would I do that when you haven’t told me anything about that new ghost?” 

Danny’s shoulders sagged. “I told you already that I don’t know anythinnnnnggg.”

“And I already said I don’t believe you.” 

Danny let his legs fade into his tail and he flew an anxious figure-eight. 

“Come on, Red! It’s Technus!” He stuck his arms out to gesture down to the ghost. “We hate Technus!”

“Hey! I resent that, Ghost Child!” Technus yelled from where he was picking himself up and dusting himself off. 

Danny gestured more insistently. 

Valerie crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot on her sled. “Oh yeah, he brings back such great memories.” 

Oh. Wait. He shouldn’t have— 

“Like that time you almost killed me!” She snapped. 

“Red, I’ve told you before that I knew—”

“‘—knew it wasn’t me’ blah blah blah.” She opened and closed her hand in a talking motion. “So you say, Ghost.” 

“We can hash it out again later! But can we take care of Technus now please? Because he’s sort of escaping.” 

Valerie looked down to see that Technus was, in fact, fleeing, electronics clumping into a massive platform beneath him as he flew away. She sighed. 

“Fine, Ghost Boy. Truce.” 

“Yes!” Danny peeled off in a blur, Valerie right behind him. Val was a great ally when he could convince her to team up. He hoped she secretly thought the same of him. 

Valerie was stubborn and could clearly hold a grudge like no other. But over the years, it felt more like she chased him out of obligation. Like she couldn’t admit she might be wrong about him. So she just did what they’d always done. 

Danny didn’t blame her. There was real anger and frustration behind her words when she talked to him, but he’d be stupid not to notice she missed her shots on purpose these days. 

Technus turned and fired his arm cannon at them as they caught up. Danny skirted to the left, rolling into a loose corkscrew, flying underneath Technus’s floating pile of technology and popping up on the ghost’s right. He unleashed a ghost-ray at Technus with so much force it carried him off the makeshift platform. 

The ghost caught himself in flight with a triumphant cackle. It died in his throat as he looked up.

Valerie was right on top of him. A pink blast of ecto-energy hissed through the raging air and into Technus’ arm cannon. The tech burst into pieces, falling in a black heap to the ground. 

“You think that would slow me down, you stupid girl?!” Technus sneered, flying backwards. He sent a ghostly clump of appliances careening into her path. She pulled up at the last second. 

“You children just don’t know when to stop meddling in other people's business, do you?” 

“Nope,” Danny called as he flew by, firing a barrage of ecto-blasts. Technus brought up a shield that deflected them. “Maybe don’t steal shit and trash the mall every two months and I’ll think about it.” 

Valerie came in from the other side, rapid firing with her hand held blaster. Danny flanked him, an ice-ray at the ready. A few shots found their target before Technus moved his shield. He screeched over the wind. 

Technus held out a hand and a crackling ball of electricity built up. It snapped and flickered yellowish green. The sky above them heaved.

Technus held out his hand towards Danny and they locked eyes. 

Danny came to a dead stop in the air. His core stuttered in his chest. Fear, raw and paralyzing, crashed through him like a freight train. For a second he thought he might black out, fall like a stone from the air. They stared at each other. 

He wouldn’t.

Technus knew better. 

He couldn’t.  

With a stunned blink, Technus moved his hand and released the electrical charge far from Danny. It went wide and collided with the mall sign. The sign exploded like it’d been struck by lightning. Plastic and glass flew through the air, and with a terrible creak the pole swayed before falling into the parking lot like a felled tree. It narrowly missed a car.

Danny let out a shaky breath, trying to still the tremble in his hands. It was raining harder now, pinpricks of cold slicking down his hair.

“Phantom, what’re you doing just floating there? Move!” Valerie said, slowing down just enough to talk before speeding off again. 

Right. He needed to snap out of it.

He shook his head and started flying. Technus was still trying to get away with all his stolen tech. 

Danny let out a slow breath, trying to hold it steady. He reached for the cold and tried to get a lead on Technus. His hand glowed blue as he shot an ice-ray into the clump of electronics. He let out a yelp and wobbled in the air. 

Danny tilted and flew closer to Val.

“Red, keep him distracted, I’ll try and get him in the thermos,” he said, unhooking it from his belt. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, ghost,” she growled. “...but fine. You better get him though. I have my own shit to do.” 

“Would it kill you to use my name once in a while?”

She pointed her blaster at him. 

“Okay! Okay! I get it, sheesh.” He held up a hand and dropped back, letting Valerie move ahead. She went after Technus with no mercy, throwing ghost grenades and raining ecto-blasts down on him. 

 Technus reassembled his cannon, trying to hold his own. He fired at Valerie but she was nimble, avoiding each one. 

“Would you hold still!” Technus snapped, bracing himself against the kick of his ecto-gun. 

Danny grinned and went invisible. Having someone to draw the fire was always useful. He circled Technus, sneaking up behind him, uncapping the thermos as he got close. 

“Hey, tell Skulker I said hi.” Technus whirled around just in time to see the barrel of the thermos illuminate. His eyes stretched wide and an angry noise was all that escaped him as the thermos pulled him in. 

All the technology that Technus had been controlling broke apart and pelted towards the ground. 

Shit. 

He reached out with his powers, catching as much as he could. He winced at the mental strain. He didn’t use his telekinesis for this magnitude of stuff very often. He needed to practice it more, it was still relatively new after all.

 Most, if not all of the technology, was busted, but that didn’t mean he wanted to let it destroy more stuff. He guessed that a refrigerator landing on a car wouldn’t buff out easily. 

He maneuvered the electronics towards the curb in front of the Best Buy, setting it all down as gently as he could. He breathed a sigh of relief and wiped rain from his face with a sleeve. 

“Nice, thanks for the help, Red.” He shot her a smile. 

She holstered her weapon. “You better put that ghost back where it belongs.” 

“I always do,” Danny said. “See ya next time?”

Valerie hummed. “We’ll see.” Danny expected her to jet off, but she lingered. “You mean what you said about that new ghost?” 

Danny folded his legs underneath him and sat in mid-air. 

“Cross my heart hope to die,” he said with a grin.

She groaned. 

“But, yeah. I don’t know what her deal is. She didn’t seem very interested in throwing hands with me, that’s for sure.” 

Valerie held her chin. “Weird... The last few new ghosts have destroyed half the town trying to get to you.” The last bit of her sentence took on a suspicious tone. 

He held up his hands. “Hey, I don’t know either. It’s not like I like getting pounded flat every few months, Red.” 

“Why do they want to fight you specifically?” 

“I don’t know,” he lied with a shrug. He looked up at the clouds, blinking through the rain. “Could be the whole ‘Protector of Amity Park Thing’.”

Val scoffed. “Oh, please.” Danny could imagine that she was rolling her eyes. “So... what? They want to get you out of here to claim Amity for themselves?” 

“Who knows. Probably.”

“Is this where I’m supposed to say how glad I am that we have you instead of one of them?” Her voice was testy, a tone Danny knew well. 

“Your words not mine.” He gave her a lopsided smile, forcing down the discomfort worming through his gut. He should leave before she got too worked up. He had one too many scars from when she’d decided a truce was over.  

“Well, it’s been nice. But we should get out of this rain. We’ll catch our death out here. Hah!” He pointed finger guns at Valerie. 

“Phantom… I’m gonna give you a ten second head start—” 

Danny turned tail and flew, a genuine laugh working it’s way up from his chest.

[toosicktoocare]

I’ve got BatFam on the mind. 

Jason sinks back against his couch, humming pleasantly, and he’s just about to kick his feet atop the ottoman and open the new book he’s been eager to dig into for a month now when a quick, patterned knock on his apartment door interrupts his eased thoughts, startling him briefly before he sighs loudly. 

He’s just decided to ignore it when the knocking continues, accompanied, this time, by a small voice he, unfortunately, recognizes almost immediately. 

“Jason?”

He makes sure the groan that builds from the back of his throat is dramatically loud and equally as long as he drops his book on the abandonded couch behind him and starts to the door, undoing the locks and pulling the door open with a familair frown reserved specifically for the damned “family” of his. 

“Replacement,” Jason bites out, fingers curled lazily around the edge of the door. 

Tim’s drenched before him, shuddering slightly with his arms wrapped tightly around his too-slender frame, and his normal, calculated composure looks to be nudging the brink of breaking. He squeezes under Jason’s arm, letting himself into the apartment, and Jason drags a deep sigh out. 

“I need your help.” 

“Did you already forget where the door is?” Jason asks, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Because it’s right there, and I’m happy to escort you out.” 

Unfazed, Tim slows his pacing down, stopping in the center of Jason’s entryway. “Dick’s been kidnapped.” 

Jason rolls his eyes, a bad habit he hasn’t cared in the slightest to remedy. He drags narrow eyes up and down Tim’s uniform. “And I care because?” he draws out, arching both brows. 

Tim sighs at this, and if Jason weren’t borderline dangerously annoyed, he’d be a little impressed that he’s managed to just barely get under Tim’s skin. 

“Look, seeking out your help made the most sense logistically.” 

“Logistically,” Jason parrots back flatly. 

“You’re the closest to our location.” 

“And, you came here instead of helping,” Jason points out, motioning toward Tim’s suit. “Why waste the time? You’re capable of helping him yourself.” He’s hoping, smally, that the fraction of a compliment will boost Tim’s ego up just enough to send him out the door, and yet, Tim visibly deflates before him, tugging his mask off and coughing into the crook of his arm. 

“I shouldn’t be out.” 

“Because you look as if you took a deep dive in the Gotham River in the dead-ass middle of winter?” 

“And because I have the flu.” 

Jason frowns sharply, eyes flicking from one too-flushed cheek to the other. Without thinking fully, he crosses the room and slaps a palm to Tim’s forehead, finding him alarmingly hot to the touch despite the icy water dripping off him.

“You do remember that you’re kind of missing your spleen, right?” Jason questions lowly, stepping back to further assess Tim’s condition through gaze alone. 

Shuddering, Tim hugs himself tightly, eyes casting to the ground. “Dick asked me to come out and help. I told him it may not be a good idea because,” he pauses, turning to hack harshly into his fist, “well, that. But he insisted.” 

“He insisted,” Jason repeats darkly, eyes flashing a brief red. 

Tim meekly nods, swaying on his feet, and Jason growls in the back of his throat, guiding Tim to the bathroom. “Christ. Hot shower and change into something dry,” Jason spits out, already whipping toward his bedroom for his suit. He’s quick slipping it on, easy muscle memory, and he’s just slipped a few guns into the holsters at his sides when Tim clears his throat. 

“You’re going to help?”

“Apparently,” Jason grumbles, hands adjusting the clip of rubber bullets. “The last thing I want is you keeling over in my apartment and the big, bad, Bat blaming me for it. Plus, I now have a reason to rip Dick a new one for being a fucking idiot.” 

“Thanks,” Tim sighs, visibly relieved. “There’s a dock with a wooden boat house at Gotham River, east side.” 

“Got it,” Jason starts, pasuing, mask only pulled over his forehead. “Hang on,” he stops his quick movement toward the door, whipping around toward Tim. “Did you actually deep-dive in the Gotham River when it’s close to the negatives outside?” 

“Got dizzy,” Tim mutters, coughing. “I kind of fell.” 

“Fucking hell,” Jason curses, snagging the keys to his bike before stalking out of his apartment, slamming the door behind him.

***

“Do you have a plan?”

Jason works through a colorful string of hushed curses at the sudden sound of Tim’s rough voice in his ear, forgetting that he’s never actually disconnected his comm. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, eyeing the boat house from his corner cover behind a brick wall. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping or some shit?”

“I wanted to help you. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m borrowing your laptop so I can have eyes on multiple locations.” 

Jason’s working through a grunt that he doesn’t mind, but his brain wraps back around unspoken details. “I have my laptop password protected.” 

“’I am the Red Hood’ isn’t exactly a hard password to crack.”

Jason shakes his head, a huff slipping past his covered lips. “I’m moving far away from all of you after this,” he mutters, standing from his cover and approaching the boat house. 

“Hood, what’s the plan? You’re wide open right now.” 

“About that,” Jason draws out, stopping before the wooden door. He can hear multiple voices behind the rickety walls, Dick’s voice standing out loudly among the others. “I think I’ll just walk in, say a little hello.” 

Tim groans in his ear, muttering how he should have ignored logistics to find someone more competent, and Jason laughs lowly before kicking the door wide open, a sly smile curling against his covered lips as multiple men with guns whip toward the door, numerous barrels aimed right at him. 

Dick’s in the center of the room tied to a chair. His face is beginning to fade to blues and blacks, yet the look of pure, innocent surprise on his face completely contradicts the entire situation. 

“Hood?”

“I’d say long time no see,” Jason starts, one hand slowly moving to ghost above a gun at his waist, “but you’re a little hard to make out with all the swelling and bruising.” 

Dick rolls his eye that’s not swollen to hell, and Jason starts forward ignoring the rings of clicks that echo from every gun that’s pointed toward him. 

“Hey, aren’t you the Red Hood?” 

Jason cocks his head to the side, turning toward the voice. “Well, I do have a hood, and last I checked, it’s definitely red.” 

“Watch it, smartass. What business do you have with this one?” The man speaking, some gruff, bulky blond with distasteful tattoos littering his fingers, motions toward Dick with the barrel of his gun, and Jason tenses slightly, his hand now laying fully atop the gun at his waist. 

“Bird infestation,” Jason grumbles. “Gotta get this one to get rid of the other.” 

“Red Robin?” Dick calls out, jerking against the ropes that have his hands tied tightly behind the chair. “Is he okay?” 

“Jury’s still out on that one,” Jason mutters, and Tim crackles in his ears. 

“Hood, I don’t like these odds. I’m going to call for back up.” 

“No need, Replacement.” Jason drags a slow gaze back toward Dick, and though they disagree on 90% of things, they still, somehow, share this odd ability to communicate via look alone, and Dick gives a single nod to his silent question. “I have help.” 

“Jason-”

Jason slips both guns out from his holsters and stretches his arms out wide and open. “Let’s go, boys.” 

The next few seconds are loud, gun shots ringing out from every direction, and Jason feeds off the familair sound, adding into the mix with his rubber bullets that don’t miss. Dick, as he predicted, has broken the wooden chair he’s been tied to and has managed to wiggle his wrists free from the ropes. Jason covers him with one gun while targeting those running toward him with his other. 

The fight lasts a minute and forty-three seconds, with Jason and Dick ending on top, multiple unconsious men at their feet. 

“I’ve already notified Gotham PD,” Dick starts, rubbing at his wrists as he steps over a few bodies. “Where’s Tim? He was fighting outside, and one of these assholes broke my comm.” Dick’s tense, fear laced heavily in his voice, and Jason steadies his eyes into a sharp glare. 

“He’s back at my apartment, sick-” is all he manages out before Dick’s racing out of the boat house. “-as fuck, no thanks to you,” Jason finishes flatly to himself. He slips his bike keys from his pocket and starts out the door when he can hear sirens in the distance. 

***

Jason makes it back to his apartment a few seconds after Dick, and he’s making a very serious mental note to move far away when he slips through the open door to see Dick hovering over Tim, pressing a palm to his forehead, counting Tim’s pulse with his free hand. 

“Dick, I’m fine,” Tim whines, swatting at Dick’s hands, and Jason pulls his mask off and cocks his head to the side. 

“Spleenless, the flu is not ‘fine,’“ Jason gripes out, and Dick whips around to him, eyes wide, before dragging a quick gaze back to Tim.

“The flu? Tim, what the hell?” 

Frowning, Jason approaches the two, eyeing Tim dangerously. “You said he knew.” 

“I calculated a few scenarios,” Tim starts, coughing weakly. “I figured you’d be more likely to help Dick if you were pissed at him.” 

“What kind of fucking backwards logic-”

“-Dick!”

Jason’s unable to finish his thoughts when Dick drops to a knee in front of him, one hand curled tightly around his abdomen, his face pinched in pain. 

“Dick,” Tim presses again, shoving the laptop from his lap and leaning over the side of the couch to get a better look. “What’s wrong?” 

Jason’s seen some shit when it comes to this twisted family he can’t quite get out of, but he can truly say that he’s never seen Dick’s stoic composure crumble under the weight of injury, and his eyes grow wide all on their own, a lump building in his throat. 

“Nothing,” Dick grunts out around clenched teeth, his jaw a hard, sharp line, and Jason blinks around the muted grip of fear, groaning instead and pulling Dick to his feet despite Dick’s hiss of pain at his side. 

“Alright, Dickie Bird. Since my home is now apparently the house of the hurt and helpless, let’s look you over. One bird down in my apartment would be bad, but two? No fucking way.” 

He calls out for Tim to take some damn medicine as he drags Dick into the bathroom, pulling at Dick’s suit until the top half’s pulled down, revealing dark purple bruising littering Dick’s sides. 

“Your ribs?” Jason guesses, and Dick nods, swallowing back a moan of pain when Jason presses lightly on Dick’s sides. 

“Doesn’t seem broken, but we’ll wrap it just in case. I’m sure Alfred will personally kill me if I don’t.” Jason moves for his first aid kit, very much aware but choosing not to adress the hard eyes watching his every movement. 

“Jay-”

“I don’t want to hear it, D,” Jason says, snagging some large bandages he can wrap around Dick’s torso. 

“Thank you.” 

Jason groans loudly, crouching down to start wrapping Dick’s ribs. “I said I didn’t want to hear it. What’s up with you birds and your piss poor hearing?”

“I really didn’t know that Tim was sick. He seemed off, but he was insistent that we go and investigate the boat house. He said he had reason to believe they were smuggling drugs underneath the floorboards.” Dick hisses sharply when Jason tightens the bandages, promptly shutting him up. 

“I should have known that your mother hen instincts would have never let typhoid Timmy go out while sick.” 

Dick rolls his eyes around a wince, hand ghosting across the bandages when Jason stands up and backs away to critique his work. 

“Things just got a little out of hand.” 

“Clearly,” Jason says dryly, and Dick frowns deeply when he stands, the pain pulling at his sides hot and overwhelming. 

“I’ll call a cab-”

“-don’t,” Jason sighs loudly. “It’s late. You both can stay, but your asses are gone in the morning.”

The smile that spreads across Dick’s lips is blindingly familiar, and Jason finds he’s at ease with Dick’s boyish charm overcoming him once more. 

They slip out of the bathroom, and Jason starts to his room to get a change of clothes for Dick, pausing in the doorway to see Tim passed out on his bed, his breaths loud, congested. 

“I can move him to the couch,” Dick offers from behind him, and Jason only shakes his head silently, padding quietly into the room. “You both can sleep in here. He’s already infected my bed, anyway.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes,” Jason sighs, only faintly aware of how many times he truly sighs whenever one of the damn birds is around. He shoves clean clothes into Dick’s arms before stalking around him to change his own clothes, maybe take a hot shower to chase away the lingering chill, and finally, hopefully, start his book. 

“Jay?” 

Jason stops, one foot already in the bathroom. “If you look at me with those stupid, puppy eyes and say ‘thank you’ one more fucking time, I’ll make sure your ribs actually break.” 

Dick smiles wide and holds a hand up in mock defense before he slips into the bedroom and nudges the door closed, and Jason shakes his head, his own breath of a smile flicking at the corners of his lips as he closes the door behind him. 

[imaginetonyandbucky]

(Give Me A) Reason To Live

Chapter 2

by @dracusfyre

“Do you know where they are planning to take him?” James asked as he headed for the stairs up to his room. Tony started to follow him then realized that James was going to drop his towel to get dressed and after a moment of temptation, stayed at the bottom of the stairs instead.

“SHIELD facility in New York,” Tony called up, trying very hard to concentrate on anything except what his imagination was currently trying to show him regarding a naked James next to a bed.

“SHIELD SHIELD, or Hydra SHIELD?” James said from above, voice slightly muffled.

“SHIELD SHIELD, as far as I can tell,” Tony said. “Fury himself is taking the lead, for now. But there’s always the question of what will happen after he wakes up, and I’m sure Hydra will be trying to weasel themselves into those plans.”

“True.” James jogged back down the stairs, his shirt clinging to damp skin and hair pulled away from his face. “So what do you think? Intercept before or after he wakes up?”

“After, I think.” Tony led him downstairs to the lab, where James had his own computer setup. He sat down at it and powered it on while Tony fired up the fancy coffee machine in the back of the room. “I mean, we have no idea how to thaw out someone safely, and no equipment to do so if we did.”

“True.” James pulled up the Hydra files and read the message that had sent Tony racing up the stairs, then started searching for the exact location of the Valkyrie and the NY SHIELD office to start planning. After a few weeks of fits and starts due to poor communication, they had finally settled into a good division of labor: Tony dug through the files for appropriate targets and when he had them, James would come up with the actual plan of attack. “The exfil will be a lot easier if he’s awake.”

Tony nodded and silence reigned for a long time, broken only by the sound of keyboards and James occasionally making notes. He didn’t realize he had fallen asleep at his desk until James shook him awake and herded him to bed. He’d been having a dream about Captain America, some fuzzy half-remembered thing where the man was scolding him for something, then he had turned into Tony’s father and sent Tony to his room. You didn’t have to be a shrink to pick up on that symbolism, Tony thought as he fell into bed.

“You should get undressed,” James said and Tony froze, suddenly wide awake as his heart hammered. Did he really…?

“What?” He managed, rolling over to look up at James.

Who raised an eyebrow and pointed to Tony’s feet. “You’re still wearing the shoes we went hiking in,” he pointed out, and Tony let his head fall back against the pillows as his face got hot.

“Right,” he mumbled, and toed them off to fall on the floor. James was still standing there, looking expectant, so with a put-upon sigh Tony sat up and started peeling off the rest of his clothes as well.

“This is going to change everything, isn’t it?” he said as James started to leave. “This thing with Cap?”

James hesitated at the door, the hand on the door frame gleaming in the dim light from the computers in the next room. “Get some sleep, Tony,” he said after a moment. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

There was that sick feeling again. Tony tossed his clothes in the corner and fell back into bed, and recited the digits of pi until he fell asleep.

                                                 ~~~~~

By the time Tony woke up and stumbled up the stairs, James was awake and thankfully already making breakfast. He shuffled up to the kitchen table and muttered a thanks as James slid a cup of coffee across the table. James knew better than to attempt conversation before Tony was ready, so they sat and ate in silence until Tony was finally awake enough to say, “Any news?”

“Nothing much. They needed special equipment to break through the ice without destabilizing the plane and sending it to the bottom of the ocean,” James said between bites of pancake.

“So we’ve got time?”

“Little bit.”

“Got a plan?”  At that, James tilted his head back and forth in an eh, sort of motion. “What do you need?”

“More intel.”

Tony just grunted and finished off his coffee. If James still had questions they would be ready and waiting for Tony downstairs, and since they had time, Tony needed at least one more cup of coffee before dealing with that. He pushed away from the table and put his plate in the dishwasher, then refilled his coffee and sat back down while James kept eating. This was another good system that they’d figured out over the past year; James ate twice as much as Tony, at least, to power that supersoldier metabolism, which worked out because by the time James was done eating, Tony was finished with his second cup of coffee and they were both ready to start the day.  “Hey, where’s he going to sleep?” Tony blurted out without thinking, then cringed. “Nevermind, that’s a stupid question.”

James just shrugged as he used his last bite to sop up some maple syrup. “Dunno. One of us will have to double bunk with someone, or take the couch, or get another mattress. Does it matter?”

“No, of course not.”

But James was eyeing him thoughtfully. “Is that what you meant? Last night?”

“Huh?”

“You said this was going to change everything.”

“Oh.” Tony looked down at his coffee cup to avoid James’ eyes. “I, uh, I meant we’re not going to be able to fly under the radar anymore, you know? After stealing Captain America out from under SHIELD and Hydra’s noses.”

“True.” As James picked up his plate and put it in the dishwasher as well, he said, “You should call him Steve. We’re rescuing Steve Rogers, not Captain America.”

Right. Of course. Like Tony could forget that James and Cap- Steve had a past. “Yeah, sure, sorry,” Tony muttered, taking a sip of coffee against the sour taste in his mouth. “I’ll head downstairs and get started on that intel.”

Once downstairs, he could see why James had left these questions to him. Questions like finding the building plans for the SHIELD facility and learning which personnel were going to be assigned to Steve were going to take some hacking to find out. Fortunately, when it came to SHIELD, Hydra was already infested in their systems, and Tony had a backdoor to Hydra, so by lunch time he was jogging back up the stairs to tell James what he’d found and almost tripped over a Barret MK22.

“Careful,” James said, sitting at the center of what looked like an explosion in a firearms factory. “I thought you’d be down there for longer.”

“Packing for the trip?” Tony asked, stepping carefully around the sniper rifle and picking his way through the rest of James’ collection towards the kitchen.

“Planning. Trying to figure out what we might need to pick up before we go.”

“I got that info for you, if that helps your planning.” Tony took one of the many frozen meals out of the freezer and popped it in the microwave. “Looks like they are keeping this information pretty close to the chest, which is good for us. Not going to be a lot of attention on him when it comes time to do our thing.” James only made an absent noise, clearly still lost in thought as he stared at a stack of C4, so for a while there was only the humming of the microwave until Tony got impatient and opened the door early. “I’ll be downstairs,” he told James as he grabbed a fork and gingerly picked up his molten hot lasagna.

“I’m coming,” James said, getting to his feet with a smooth, easy motion that made Tony feel every one of his years. Tony settled down in his computer chair as James stood behind him, leaving Tony with a prickling awareness of how close he was. Tony took a deep breath to steady himself and pulled up the report he’d slapped together. First was the building plan, and after it got James’ nod of approval Tony sent it to the jumbo printer because he knew that James liked to work off of hard copies. Next was a series of internal shield memos proposing a variety of plans for what to do when Steve woke up, and James snorted derisively as he read them. “Not a single one of these people know anything about Steve, do they?”

“I mean, only what they learned from history books, I guess. What would you do?”

“You mean what am I going to do? I’m going to say, ‘Wake the fuck up, Steve, we gotta get out of here now follow me.’”

Tony laughed and saw James’ mouth curl up at the corners. “Simple and effective. I like it.” Since SHIELD was still trying to decide its plan of action, Tony dismissed the emails and started pulling up the personnel list.  Like he’d said, it wasn’t long; SHIELD was playing this one close to the vest for now.

“Wait.” Tony immediately stopped scrolling as James leaned over his shoulder, smelling like shower soap and gun oil. “I know her,” James said, frowning. He pointed at the redhead. “Who is she?”

“Well, her SHIELD ID says Natalie Rushman,” Tony said. “Is she Hydra?”

“No…” James said slowly, eyebrows drawing together as he tried to remember. Many of his memories had come back surprisingly quickly once they’d escaped Hydra, making for some really touch-and-go moments in the early months as James had often woken up screaming from nightmares and had wandered around the cabin hollow-eyed and haunted. Going into the woods had been his escape in those days, and he’d only told Tony what he was up to after Tony had gotten cabin fever and decided to go for a hike and figure out what all the hype was about with fresh air and nature. “I think I shot her once.”

“Think she’d know your face?”

“Maybe.” Tony could tell that James was still frustrated by the almost-there memory so he left the image up on the screen for him to stare at.

“That’ll be a complication, since she’s part of his reintegration team,” Tony mused. “Strangely enough, I guess that means between the two of us, I’ll be the one least likely to be recognized. Not something I ever thought I’d say.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“Um…” Tony squinted at James and realized that obviously James wouldn’t know much about Tony’s past, other than what he’d told him or what James would have seen in the Hydra files. Especially if it hadn’t occurred to James to look him up on the internet, which he guessed was possible. “I was, uh, kind of a celebrity.”

“What for? Were you a movie star or something?”

Tony made a face. He didn’t want to admit that he was mostly famous for a series of sex scandals to someone who had personally known Captain America. “Nothing good,” he said finally. “Stupid stuff.” No chance James wasn’t going to Google him now, but at least he wouldn’t have to explain to James’ face why there were so many pictures on the internet of him naked. Thankfully, James just shrugged, apparently willing to leave it at that, so Tony quickly went through the rest of the items on James’ list. There was also no further updates on the efforts to get Steve out of the ice, so they were officially in Tony’s least favorite part of any operation: the hurry up and wait part.

With nothing else to do in the lab, Tony set JARVIS to keep an eye on any further communication and followed James back up the stairs. Since the couch was the only part of the living room that wasn’t covered in some kind of weapon, Tony perched on it and turned on the TV while James organized his collection. Making sad noises at James got him his forgotten lasagna from downstairs with the low, low cost of grumbling and an eye roll, leaving Tony to have a pleasant couple of hours hanging out in companionable silence with James. At some point, James had changed position to lean against the couch while sitting on the floor, which had meant that his back was pressing against Tony’s leg, warm and solid and something Tony only thought about every 15 seconds or so for a solid hour.  

“I was thinking about what you said earlier,” James said after a while, sitting up and sadly moving away from Tony as he started to put away the weapons, sorting them into piles and returning some to their hiding places. “About this operation breaking our cover.”

“Yeah?”

“Your suit. Could you make it flashy?”

“Flashy?” Tony echoed in confusion. He had a couple of suit builds now, based on the various types of missions they went on, but all of them were matte black and had a rubberized exterior to reduce the noise and radar profile. “I mean, sure, that wouldn’t be hard. But why?”

“Our best bet might be for you to create a distraction, and I think you zooming down 5th Avenue would be a good distraction.”

Tony stared at him, stomach turning as his whole body went hot and cold with fear. “No,” he said shakily, turning away from James and sliding further into the couch, staring resolutely at the TV screen. “No fucking way.” Tony pulled the blanket tighter around himself, curling into a ball. Everything depended on him not being seen, on Hydra not knowing he was alive. Everything. How could James not know that? Was Tony supposed to jump at the chance to sacrifice himself for Steve? Because one look at the suit and Hydra would know, Stane would know, and then– then-

A sudden warm hand on his shoulder made him jump and lash out. When his hands only met hard muscle fight turned to flight and he scrambled away. But as he tried to get to his feet he tripped over a blanket and hit the floor hard, knocking the wind out of him. His heart was pounding in his ears but eventually he heard James talking to him, saying “Tony, fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, just wait,” and that was like a bucket of water to the face. He realized he was sweating and his breathing was fast and shallow, and as he looked up at James he felt the hot crawl of humiliation.

“I’m fine,” he said shortly as he climbed to his feet. “I’m going to take a shower.” He could feel the pressure of James’ eyes and his silence against his back as he went to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He shook for a while, leaning against the bathroom door, before he finally managed to turn on the shower.

The awkwardness lasted until dinner, with James clearly wanting to say something but unsure how to bring it up, and Tony too embarrassed to meet his eye or give him an opening. Thankfully, JARVIS gave them an update halfway through dinner, and the tension eased as conversation turned towards their plan. Since James had cooked, Tony reluctantly got up to do the dishes, only to have James gently crowd him away from the sink. “You need to get ready for the mission,” James pointed out, which was a flimsy excuse because it didn’t take that long to get the suit ready to go now that Tony had figured out how to make it deploy from something the size of a suitcase, but Tony didn’t argue. He hated doing dishes.

It was also better than staying upstairs and risking that James would say something, so he went downstairs to prep the suit. Once down there, though, he slowed as he approached the Mark VII, remembering James’ suggestion earlier. Though the thought still make his limbs feel weak and his heart race, he forced himself to sit down and consider the idea instead of running from it. He knew what James had been trying to suggest; he could get the attention of the police and any SHIELD agents in the area and draw them away from James while he rescued Steve. He could even put a few holes in the building to cover their escape then disappear as soon as they were clear. It was smart, it was simple, and it was fucking terrifying.

Though there was no escaping the fact that Tony had put in a lot of effort making sure Hydra would think he was dead, and this was going to undo all of that work. “Fuck,” Tony groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. It wasn’t like James wasn’t risking everything, too, but apparently he was willing to let Tony take the cowards way out even if it made their plan harder. “JARVIS,” he said finally, voice muffled behind his hands. “Warm up the machines, we’re modifying one of the suits. We’re changing up the armor.” What was an eye-catching color? Probably red, a bright red. All the better to wave himself in front of the metaphorical bull. But all red would look like shit. “Red and gold,” Tony said finally. “Make me a mockup of the armor in red and gold.”

[sparkie96]

AU Chris (Re1)meets spy!Leon in the Raccoon City Outbreak ( Leon is like Ada )strangers to lover and the fiesta meet is León saying "hold your fire"

(So, Leon actually doesn’t become a spy in the “Umbrella Leon AU” until AFTER Raccoon City because he and Sherry get picked up by Wesker and his associates, but I’ll try to wing it to be earlier than that)

Chris had been in the middle of packing his shit and skipping town when he heard a knock on his door. The former STARS Officer glanced at his clock, the glowing green numbers reading “11:45pm”. Who the hell was here at this time at night? Before he could ask the “Who” and “Why”, he heard Claire’s voice calling for him on the other side, the college student’s banging becoming more rapid and scared. He could hear screaming next door, followed by the growls of zombies.

“Holy shit.” Chris hissed as he dropped his things and bolted to the door, ripping it open and yanking his baby sister inside just as a zombie nearly tore into her. 

Chris pulled his gun from the back of his pants, pointing it and aiming at the undead creature’s head before pulling the trigger. With a loud bang, the gun fired, the bullet lodging itself into the zombie’s head and knocking it off of its feet. Chris hurried up and shut the door behind them, locking it and then turning to Claire, who was breathing heavily and holding her chest. Her eyes were wide in fear and confusion. 

“Claire, what the hell are you doing here?!” Chris asked, his voice cracking as he gently grasped her shoulders, checking her over, “Were you bitten? Attacked?” 

She shook her head, making her ponytail wag behind her, “N-No...no...I’m fine.” She said as she sat down on the foot of his bed, “...you didn’t answer your phone or return my letters and I...what the hell is going on?!” 

“It’s a long story and I’ll tell you later.” Chris replied, grabbing his pack, “Right now, we need to get the hell out of here. There are some very bad people doing very bad things to the people of Raccoon City and they’re coming after me and the remaining STARS Unit because we know too much. And now you if they find out.” 

“Does this have anything to do with the cannibal murders?” Claire asked as she took the pack full of guns that Chris handed her, “Because those things don’t look like cannibals...they look like…” 

“Zombies.” 

“Yeah.” 

Chris loaded up his Samurai Edge before canting his head toward the door, asking Claire if she still had that gun he gave her for her birthday last year. She pulled it out of her belt with a nod, showing it to him. With another nod, he led her to the door, telling her that if she saw any more of those things, to shoot them in the head. That seemed to kill them. Anything else, and do the same. 

“Unless it’s a tyrant,” Chris explained, “Then aim for the pulsing glowing heart looking thing on their chest.” 

“...a what?!” 

“I will explain later!” Chris repeated, opening the door, relieved to see that the zombie was still lying dead on the floor when he kicked it with his booted foot, “C’mon! We have to go meet up with Barry and Jill!”

______________________________________________________________

He shouldn’t have been here, it just felt...wrong considering he had technically been complicit with Irons and Wesker when it came to this whole catastrophe. But Leon wasn’t cruel like them, he couldn’t just let innocent people die. He did manage to get a couple of people to the RPD and helped the kids at the orphanage get to safety, having found an empty but still working school bus as well as finding some survivors to help out with the kids and their teacher. 

But thanks to his need to do good and protect the innocent, Leon had stumbled across some information about the Arklay Murders and the underground construction going on underneath the city. He had figured out that Umbrella had been involved and was experimenting on the citizens of the mountain town. Though, he had eventually been caught eavesdropping on Wesker’s phone call and then brought to Irons. They had threatened to kill him originally, but Sherry Birkin had been there and stood between Leon and Wesker. And then, Wesker found a use for him.  

Irons blackmailed him, threatening Leon’s grandparents who lived in the city and with Chris Redfield’s safety, knowing that Leon and him had grown close during Leon’s time there. Wesker threatened everyone he knew and loved, Sherry included, who was just another innocent who had been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was the little girl whom Leon always “babysat” when he stayed after his shift to catch up on work. 

Hence why now, Leon didn’t have a choice when it came to his next “Plan of Action”. Leon gulped as he looked up at the snarling creatures at the back gate, the one area that wasn’t guarded by police or guards. 

He REALLY didn’t want to do this, but he also didn’t want Sherry to receive a broken wrist or any kind of damage. 

With a deep breath, Leon undid the bolt on the gate and then bolted up the stairs. Once he was a safe distance away, he shot the chains off of the gate that prevented the zombies from pushing through. His stomach churned as nausea took over, watching in horror as the monsters shambled in. He wanted to shoot at them, but he didn’t know who was watching. He looked up at the security camera above the door, seething at the red blinking light. 

Of course Irons was watching to make sure he got the job done. 

“Marvin, I’m sorry.” Leon whispered as he headed back inside, leaving the door wide open behind him. 

______________________________________________________________

“Hurry!” Chris exclaimed to Claire as they ran inside the front gates of the RPD, Chris shooting down a couple zombies as they shuffled after them. 

Claire practically dove inside like a baseball player reaching Home Base before Chris shoved the gates closed, locking the bolt in place just as the undead reached them. Rotting palms and fists beat and slammed against the metal doors, the beasts on the other side growling and snarling in what seemed like anger, having been denied their next meals. 

Claire sat on her butt as she looked at them and then up at her brother, “Can...you tell me...now?” She asked in between breaths, “And why are we here? I...I thought you said that we had to meet with Barry...downtown?” 

Chris breathed his own deep breaths, resting his hands on his knees as he bent forward slightly, “We will meet with him...just gotta...rest for a minute.” 

“Chris there’s fucking monsters on the other side of this gate!” Claire protested, “We should have just cut through the alleyways!” 

“I know!” Chris hollered, “But if we cut through the RPD, that will not only be safer but quicker. The back leads to downtown, I promise.” 

“And what if this place is infested?” Claire asked, getting to her feet while gulping down another breath, “Like that damn bar when we got separated from Brad and Jill?” 

“It’s safe here.” Chris reassured, “They’re gathering survivors here and there’s plenty of guys and gals who are fully capable of wielding a gun.” 

Claire gave an almost quiet “alright” before standing up fully, her and Chris taking a moment to reload their guns. Once their guns were fully cocked and loaded, Chris carefully opened the door, stepping through and making sure it was secure before having Claire bring up the rear. 

This was not what Chris had expected. 

The RPD was deathly silent and there was not a soul in sight. There was blood splattered across the tiled floor, hospital equipment and supplies left seemingly abandoned. The building creaked and settled around them. Where the hell was everyone? 

“Where is everybody?” Claire asked, her voice just above a whisper, “I thought you said they were gathering survivors here.” 

Chris nodded, “I did...and they were...but…” 

They heard a gunshot come from upstairs, both of them jumping at the abrupt noise. Chris raised his gun, telling Claire that it sounded like the shot came from the waiting area upstairs. He suggested that she stayed down here where it was open and safe, but she shook her head, saying that she was going with him whether he liked it or not. 

“I lost Mom and Dad,” She said, “I’m not losing you too.” 

Chris’s heart twisted in his chest at that, gulping down the lump in his throat before giving another nod, “...Alright, but stay close and stay alert. Remember what I said. Got it, Little Red?” 

She smiled, giving a nod of her own, “Got it, Big Red.” 

____________________________________________________________

A couple minutes earlier…

Shit! Things were going South so fucking fast! Though, that was to be expected when one let zombies run loose in a building full of people, but Leon wasn’t supposed to get caught up in it. Leon ran through the corridors and hallways, having abandoned the idea of going back to Irons’s office on the bottom floor, considering the bastard had already left through the Parking Garage with Sherry. His door had been fucking locked when Leon twisted the knob, which meant he was long gone. 

And Leon was royally screwed and utterly alone. 

Luckily, he had avoided everyone and the infected, not having so much as a scratch on him. Which was good, because according to his research, and the notes he had snatched off of Wesker’s desk, these things could infect someone via a bite or a scratch. Or via ingestion, but there was no rhyme or reason for Leon to want to stick his mouth anywhere near one of these bastards. And no way in hell was he hungry after all the shit he had seen tonight. 

He had shot a zombie that had gotten too close to him before he stumbled through the nearest door without thinking. 

Leon was face-to-face with a barrel of a gun, “H-Hold your fire!” 

The next thing he heard was the sound of a gunshot...but there was no pain.

[pinkysfaultorbrainsfault]

animaniacs - s5e8: the brain’s apprentice

this is the last patb short in animaniacs! as far as i know, anyway. if i’ve missed any with plans please let me know! there probably won’t be an update tomorrow because we’re going out with my boyfriend’s parents (in a covid conscious manner of course) but on friday (or thursday if i get time) i’ll get started on the spinoff. for now, enjoy mice. (:

episode summary: brain builds a machine that creates tiny robots programmed to take over the world. pinky helps. there is no dialogue in this short, because it’s supposed to be a parody of a short by some small inconsequential studio somewhere.

the rundown:

we open at acme labs!

there it is. it’s a very pretty building. i wonder if these shots were computer generated or, like, physically drawn. it’s kind of hard to tell, but they are impressively 3D looking.

“how to take over the world by building your own neato army. by alexander haig.”

hmmm. i am not american enough to get this joke, unfortunately, but i’m sure the animators had a good laugh putting it in there, so that’s all that matters!

as pinky watches a video about buying fish, brain walks past with a bunch of.... weirdly shaped paperclips. the box is taller than he is, at this point, and he was a baby exactly one season ago, so maybe pinky should be helping out? but needs must, i guess. he’s got fish to buy.

brain deposits whatever those are in a bigger bucket of whatever those are, and climbs down. i have decided that these are not, in fact, paperclips. i don’t know what they are, or how brain found them, and i especially do not know what they were doing in the paperclip box.

hmmm.

brain grabs his notebook and takes a look at his blueprints for whatever this big old machine is for.

i love how he just. ripped up a bin to make it. where will the employees of acme labs toss out their old crystal pepsi* cans now?

*i don’t know what people drank in 1995.

brain wiggles some buttons. pinky, meanwhile, gets bored of watching programs about why he should buy a fish, and goes to see what brain is doing.

he peep.

and out comes a lil robot. awww.

pinky is shooketh. he gotta see what’s going on with this!

in the process of doing so, he falls over. poor baby. :C but that’s definitely not important to the plot, or anything.

he wants to go say helo to the robot!

brain is less enthused by that idea, it seems.

because the robot needs activating before they can play with it! honestly, pinky.

huh.

brain tries turning it off and on again. he is not successful.

how problematic.

his solution is to take his notebook and go hide in the kitchen out of shame, i guess.

i don’t know either. never mind. pinky goes back to his fish.

but oh dear!

pinky tries to warn brain. brain gives no fucks. just let him go back to his loathing hole, pinky.

never mind. pinky is here to save the day!

the robot is on now.

it does a sassy little hands on hips thing.

ah.

so they end up doing a whole little dance together!

and it’s really cute.

bowling pin moments

until-- oh dear.

never mind. pinky and his new friend head off to the fridge.

hm.

the robot wiggled all the cheese out of the fridge, so now pinky is fat and satisfied. he likes his new robot friend, who procures cheeses for him.

but oh, fuck.

pinky attempts to stop the onslaught by pressing as many buttons as he can.

it has...probably the opposite of the intended effect.

the plug won’t come out, either.

maybe this lever will help!

i.... guess it did? but not in the way pinky intended. oh dear.

powerless to stop them, pinky watches as the robots wander off to their destiny. (he looks quite happy, there, actually. maybe things are okay after all!)

the first thing they do is steal a tank. (i’m not sure the cannon leads to the cockpit? i don’t know. i’d have to ask my dad.)

bomf.

this guy isn’t very good at his job, apparently.

(meanwhile, pinky attempts to hit the robot infestation with a fly swatter.)

mr The American President has recieved the calling card, apparently. honestly, this is a bit fashy, even by brain’s standards, but i guess after last episode he just got hit with a bout of desperation.

this man is very scared. he doesn’t want his brain poked out by pens.

pinky is also very scared, because the entire lab is just full of the bloody things. he clings to the chair and considers the direction his life is going in.

oh dear.

brain very calmly heads towards the machine in a way that is probably terrifying. i’m put off and i’m just sitting here.

pinky is banished back to the table for his many crimes. he is Grounded. he has been Put In The Corner.

i don’t. actually think i’ll be comfortable making jokes like that for a good few more episodes, actually, lol.

pinky trundles sadly off to watch more Fish TV, while brain rolls his eyes and does the sort of little head shake that my nan would do if my grandad gave us the wrong christmas presents or whatever.

some people may find it difficult to remember the voices of the dead, but my nan mumbling “stupid man” under her breath is eternal. rip nan. also i really, really like the faces in this episode.

is he wearing eyeliner? it looks good on him. maybe that’s what he was doing while he was moping, yknow. put on a bit of lottie london and listen to the black parade. it’s a good way to vent your emotions, i guess.

but oh, what’s this?

something completely unrelated is holding the president hostage!

huh.

conclusion:

obviously, this is something very important that brain needs to know about, so pinky goes off to get him.

does a cute little pouty face and everything.

brain doesn’t want to know, it seems. he tells pinky, presumably, to shush. he has a machine to deactivate!

bonk.

so obviously this causes the robots to go a bit haywire.

better sign that contract, mr president!

or not, i suppose.

and the reddit alien is dead. very sad. no more am i the asshole for anyone.

the president is upset. he liked posting judgemental things on r/pics whenever he saw a woman.

meanwhile, pinky is trying very hard to get brain’s attention.

oh dear. brain is so upset that he can’t even laugh at “wolf spritzer”, which is a silly name for anyone to have.

he’s gonna go off and cry. ):

good thing pinky knows what’ll make him feel better!

BONK.

i don’t know why he’s hitting pinky, quite frankly. yet again, if brain had listened to him from the beginning, their plan would have been a success. pinky figured out what was wrong with the machine, and activated it, and solved the problem. even as accidental as that was, brain could have like... yknow. taken a moment to assess the situation.

but this is the last episode of animaniacs (that they appear in, anyway) so i guess that proves that he’ll never learn.

brain: 4 ½ pinky: 5 ½ outside influence: 10

i have nothing more to say about this episode, but the guys from the preceding short look like the dover boys, which is funny, i guess.

[ms-rampage]

Eden's Gate: Kidnapped Chapter 15 - Winchester vs Seed

Word count: 3,365

Warnings: Smut right off the bat, swearing, angst, pregnancy annoucment, Paige threatening to put a poopy diaper in John's face, Paige giving John the lecture of his life!!!!! and its just a roller coast of emotions in this one. FORESHADOWING THE NEXT SERIES THAT TAKES PLACE A FEW YEARS EARLIER!!!!!!!.

The final 3 chapters are gonna long ones.

He has her pinned to the bed, lavishing her neck with love bites and kisses.

Kenny, who hasn’t gotten to pleasure his wife in months, finally gets to do that.

Her naked body underneath him, her legs wrapped around his waist. 

Paige has been waiting for this day for so long, Kenny’s body pressed against hers.

The day she was kidnapped, they were gonna conceive another baby that same night, but of course Eden’s Gate had to ruin it by taking her away. Fuck them. Fuck the Project. Fuck the Seeds. Fuck them all to Hell.

Kenny continues down her body, his mouth doing all the work, his thick beard tickling her skin, leaving kisses and bites all the way down her body.

“Kenny?” she moans, as he leaves kisses on her abdomen

He stops, and looks up at her, hovering over the lower half of her body.

She sits up, cupping his face and says softly. 

“I want you to impregnate me” 

He looks at her with disbelief, his eyes widened. 

“You serious?” he mutters. 

She nods her head, “Yes, like we were supposed to do months ago”.

A smile grows on his face, and he crashes his lips against hers, his hand getting tangled in her hair. 

He sits up, and takes off his shirt, Paige unbuttons his pants, he gets off the bed and takes them off along with his boxers. 

He climbs on the bed, aligns himself with Paige’s cunt, and shoves himself inside her without hesitation. 

She cries out in pleasure, wanting, waiting for so long for him to fuck her again.

He puts her legs over his shoulders, digging his fingers into her hips, and fucking her senseless without any thought of stopping or slowing down. 

Her moans bounce off the walls, as well as his grunting and the sound of their skin slapping together. 

She can feel his cock twitch inside her, he lets out a throaty whimper, as a sign that he’s getting close. 

She grips the sheets to the bed, and lets out a soft whimper.

She moves her hands up his arms, digging her nails into his muscular biceps.

His muscles tense up, as he’s fucking her the shit out of her. Sweat building up on his forehead, his hair sticking to his forehead. 

Paige lets out a pitchy whimper, Kenny knows that she’s close to cumming. 

“Let it out” he moans, as he’s still shoving himself into her tight cunt.

She arches her back, and cums all of his cock. 

Her body vibrates as she orgasms. Kenny’s not far behind, he’s very close.

“Ready honey?” his voice hoarse, his eyes filled with lust. 

“Yeah” she moans. 

He presses his forehead to hers, they look into each other's eyes, and he releases himself.

His hot seed flowing into her cunt, bathing her in his cum.

He rocks her hips as he continues to release himself into her, wanting to get her pregnant again.

He pulls out, and collapses next to her. Both breathing heavily but both completely satisfied.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that” he says, pulling her to cuddle with him.

“How do you think I feel?” she says, cuddling up to his chest. 

He chuckles, and pulls her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her. 

Placing a kiss on her head. 

___________________________________________________

A week has passed, well to be exact 9 days have passed, and Paige is starting to feel the early pregnancy symptoms she had when she was pregnant with Cristina.

She doesn’t have any pregnancy tests. 

So she puts Cristina in her carseat, her mom Mandy comes along, and they drive to a nearby drugstore for some pregnancy tests, and some stuff for dinner that evening.

Kate, Kenny, Nate, Mark, Martin, Cody and Adrian stay back to keep an eye, or several eyes on the house. 

They park the car, and walk to some drugstore in Falls End, Paige barely recognizes it, everything looks like it has changed in over the course of 2 months since she was kept prisoner at St. Francis. John Seed must’ve been threatening the owners of the businesses. 

Paige isn’t scared of him, if she saw him right there in Falls End, she’d punched him square in his face. 

Hell maybe she’ll put Cristina’s dirty shitty diaper in his face. Who knows!!. Sometimes the universe decides. 

She has Cristina in a Moby classic wrap baby carrier, Mandy who is a semi paranoid woman walks next to her with a pistol in her holster, and knife in her back pocket, armed and ready incase any peggie fucks want to die. 

They walk past the Spread Eagle bar, and Mary May from the corner of her eye sees Paige and Mandy walk by. She gets out from the behind the bar counter, and goes outside. 

“Paige?!” she says, in shock. 

They both turn around, “Hey Mary” Paige says.

“You’re-you’re alive!?!!!” she exclaims. 

“And well” she jokes.

She sees “Pride” on her chest.

“John got you!?” she says, motioning to her chest.

“Yeah the little fucker marked me. But he’ll get what's coming to him. Him, Joseph, Jacob and even Faith even though she didn’t do anything to me”

Mary crosses her arms over her chest “Yeah, John’s been reaping some of the businesses here. He got the apple farm up the road, he got Rae-Rae’s, a few other businesses and also Lamb of God church” she says.

“So he’s basically got almost every business in Holland Valley?” Mandy asks.

Mary nods her head, “Yep, all he needs now is the Falls End church, the gunshop, the auto shop, Rye’s aviation and my bar”. 

“Oh shit, it's a matter of time before he gets our place” Mandy says to Paige.

“And he won’t because I won’t let him take away my home” she replies to her. 

“Someone’s gotta stop him, and I believe you can do it Paige. Because everyone except you is scared of him, and your sister dated him” 

“Yeah, yeah he told me that during my torture session. I wanted to rip his fucking head off his shoulders” she says looking at the ground.

“Well it great seeing you again Mary, take care” Paige says,

“You too take care” she replies and she goes back into the bar.

Mandy, and Paige make it to the drugstore, and they see a couple of peggies hanging outside of it.

Paige rolls her eyes “Oooohh great, just what we needed” she says, annoyed.

“Just keep walking” Mandy instructs her. 

The peggie fucks see them approaching, and they just stare at them as they walk inside.

Normally Paige would be all over them but she brought her infant daughter with her, and didn’t want her to get caught in the crossfire. 

Paige goes into the aisle with the pregnancy tests, and grabs a couple of them. 

Mandy comes to her with a basket of chips, alcohol and a bunch of random snacks.

Paige looks down at the basket, and lets out a short laugh “Is this dinner?”. 

Mandy lets out a short laugh herself, “No this is just the essentials”. 

They shop for a little bit longer, pay for the stuff, and head back to the car.

As they’re walking back to the car, Paige has the urge to pee. Luckily they’re near the Spread Eagle, “Hold on I really need to use the bathroom” she says to her. 

She takes Cristina out of her wrap, and hands her to Mandy.

She grabs one of the pregnancy tests from the bag, and goes inside the bar.

Mandy waits outside with Cristina, and talks to her.

As she’s talking a few of the Cults truck drive by, and followed by a black SUV with tinted windows.

Paige does her business, she opens the pregnancy tests, and dips it in the urine infested toilet water.

She takes it out, setting it on the box that's on the counter and waits. 

She flushes the toilet and washes her hands. 

It takes a couple minutes for her to get the results, and it's the longest moments of her life!!! 

Finally after 2 minutes of waiting, she gets her results and SHE’S PREGNANT!!!!!!!.

Tears start to form in her eyes, she jumps excitedly in the somewhat dirty bathroom, and she goes outside to her mom. 

Mary sees tears in her eyes.

“Paige are you okay?” she asks, concerned.

She turns her head to face her “I’m fine, Just found out I’m pregnant” she says, holding the pregnancy test.

“Congratulations!!!” she says, excitedly.

Paige goes outside, and shows Mandy the test.

“You’re pregnant?!” she exclaims. 

She nods her head.

“Come on, let's go home, so I can tell the others” she says, and they go into the car.

They drive out of Falls End, down the road home.

When they pull into the driveway, Paige senses something isn’t quite right.

“Something doesn’t feel right” she says.

“It could be gas” Mandy says, “I had a lot of gas when I found out I was pregnant with Kate. But then it could’ve been all the Thai food I ate during that pregnancy”

They get out of the car, Paige wraps Cristina back in her wrap carrier. Mandy walks in front of her, she pulls out her gun, and slowly opens the door.

No one in the kitchen, or dining room.

When you enter the house the first room you enter in the dining room, and the kitchen to the left.

They hear shuffling coming from the living room, Mandy is the first one to enter, and sees Adrian, Martin and Cody tied up on the floor, somewhat bloody, shirtless, and struggling to release themselves.

“Shit” Mandy says, Paige walks in behind her and sees her friends tied up.

“What happened?!?!” she asks, panicking.

“It's the Cult they’re here!!!” Adrian exclaims, pointing his head to behind Paige and Mandy.

They turn around, and see some peggies holding Mark, Nate and Kenny hostage, they’re bloody, shirtless and it looks like they put up a fight against those Cultist fucks.

John Seed enters the room, and Paige’s mood changes from panic to pure raging hatred mixed with violence.

“Thought I wouldn’t get you?” he asks, with a smug cocky smile.

“And you thought it was a good idea to fuck with me? you asshole” she spits at him.

“Is that anyway to talk in front of your child?” he says, motioning to Cristina who is still in her wrap carrier. Paige notices John has a few scratches on his face

A couple of peggies grab them, and point their guns at them. John goes back into the other half of the living room, and brings Kate out who has duct tape over her mouth, a red handprint on her neck like she was choked, and her hands tied up.

“You little fucking shit” Paige yells at him, and is instantly, and aggressively pulled back by the peggie. Which makes Cristina cry, John rolls his eyes, and says “Will someone shut up that little beast!!!”.

That remark completely pissed off, and angered Kenny “You son of bitch” he mutters aggressively, and is pulled back by the peggie. 

The peggie that's holding Paige is about to grab Cristina out of her carrier, and she elbows him in the neck and he falls to the floor. 

She’s pretty sure she broke it with that hard, fast strike. 

“What the fuck do you want John?” she asks, trying to calm down Cristina.

“This” he says, looking around the house.”Your house, it's the 2nd biggest one in town, and of course mine being number 1”.

“Well you can’t have it. So why don’t you take your little merrymen, and get your lawyer ass off my property” she says, with rage.

2 more peggies come out from the other half of the living room, and they both grab Paige.

John approaches her, and says. “You see there is that Greed. You only care about yourself”.

Paige scoffs, and says. “Really? Is that what you think? I only care about myself?. Psssh no John, I care about my family, I care about my friends, but you know who I don't care about John? I don’t care about you, and your family. That does not make me greedy, or selfish, that means I’m selfless, don’t get those two words mixed up Johnny I know your small brain can’t handle that much. I care for my loved ones needs before my own. I care about my family’s business that my father, and his father, and father before him have worked so hard to keep together, and that is something you”ll never know about John”. She stops talking to catch her breath, and lets John take in everything that she said. 

She continues lecturing him “Hell Kate even told me that she told you everything about what my family does, she told me about the demon possessing you a few years ago when she was attending the University. By the way does Joseph know you had pre-marital sex with my sister? Because isn’t that a sin? You’re a hypocrite to own words John!!. But what do I know I’m just a nasty little sinner”. 

She can see the rage building in his eyes, the blue in his eyes are gone. 

Regardless she’s still not scared of him.

He smirks, turning his back to her, he grabs Kate’s arm, bringing her in front of Paige, while he stands next to her.

“It’s funny how you two are related. And yes I’m aware of your family business. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves they don’t exist!” 

Paige looks over at Mandy and rolls her eyes. 

“Then how do you explain Saleos and Merihem?!!!??” she asks.

He ignores her question, and continues his lecture to her

“Your family is filled with sinners. Didn't think I’d remember you Mandy, and after what Joseph did for you. After everything WE did for YOU. You betrayed us. You betrayed Joseph, and you betrayed God”

“God doesn’t give a fuck about you, or any of us!!” Paige yells at him. 

“YOU will not speak of him in that tone” John snaps at Paige.

He calms down a bit, and says while holding Kate’s throat. 

“Some of us had some sin to release, and I did my atonement”. 

He looks at Kate while still holding her throat. 

“And she did hers, whether or not I was in my correct mindset or not”

“Mindset? Or demonic possession?” Mandy says.

John ignores her question, and finishes with. 

“Jacob was very upset that you left, and he wanted me to bring you, and your friends and family to his place. You should know by now what that means”.

He tightens his grip around Kate’s arm, and takes towards the back door.

“But!!” he exclaims, turning back around. “I almost forgot the atonement” he says. 

The peggies turn Paige and Mandy around, and bring Kenny, Nate, Mark, Adrian, Cody and Martin in front of them, lining them up.

John goes through a bag on one of the chairs, and pulls out his tattoo needle. 

He stands in front of them with the needle in hand. All 6 men look at him with pure rage, and anger.

“So who wants to go first?” he asks. 

“Fuck off John” Paige yells at him from behind, but he ignores her remark.

“Kenneth, since your mouthy wife decided to try and tear me a new one. YOU should be the first one to go. Yes?” he says, pointing the needle at him.

“Fuck off, I ain’t saying shit” he snaps at him.

“Just like your wife. The Greed, I can see why you two married each other” he says chuckling. 

“Greed is definitely your sin” he adds.

“No, I ain’t giving in to you. Go fuck yourself” Kenny yells again.

John chuckles again “Why do you WINCHESTERS, make everything so difficult!!!!”.

“Because we’re the Winchesters not the Losechesters” Paige laughs flatly.

Kenny glares at her with “now's not the time honey” eyes, along with everyone else. Paige tries to figure out a plan to get John, and his merrymen out of her house.

Two peggies are holding her, one is holding her mom, three behind the guys and none are holding Kate. 

Paige stares at Kate as a way to get her attention, she looks over at Paige, and she automatically knows what she wants her to do.

"John?!!! John?!!?!" Kate mumbles, to get his attention away from the guys.

“Oooh what is it my dear?” he says, walking over to Kate. Now that she has him preoccupied. 

Paige looks over at Kenny, and he is already looking at her.

She points her eyes to the peggies behind them, and to the ones behind her and Mandy.

They have they’re way of communicating with their eyes, and she’s basically telling him. 

There’s 8 of us. and 6 of them, we kill the peggies, and have John as a hostage. 

Mandy sees their way of communicating, and already knew what they were planning.

All at the same time, they take down all 6 peggies.

Mandy elbows hers in the gut, and hits him with an elbow strike, Paige does the same with hers, and flips them over her shoulders while holding Cristina in her wrap. Stomping on their guts. Adrian, Kenny and Cody take out the other 3 in a similar fashion.

Leaving John defenseless.

Paige takes Cristina out of her wrap putting her in her playpen. 

John laughs nervously with his hands up. “This is the last thing you want to do. Killing me is not gonna be a good thing” he says.

“Oh don’t worry John we’re not gonna kill ya. We might have to convert you” Paige says, “And maybe kill you. But who knows maybe we”ll have a change of heart” she adds. 

They tie John to a chair in the kitchen, he looks completely annoyed, and now he knows what it feels like to be tied up, and a hostage. 

Kate walks into the kitchen and sits next to him, and says.

“You knew, you had it coming John”

He looks at her, and mumbles “Are you gonna let them kill me Katie?” 

She responds “If you cooperate, we won’t have to kill you”. 

He groans through his gag. 

Kate tries to have a heart to heart conversation with him.

“You know deep down I still care about you. Your well being. Because I know how much in love you were with me, and I know you’re still in love with me”.

He looks over at her, she can see the rage in his eyes. But there’s also love there as well, and it's overpowering it.

“Don’t even deny it because I know you still love me. Because I understand the pain you went through, I opened up to you about my past and upbringing. I wanted to put that behind me but I couldn’t. Didn't you see how hesitant I was when we first started talking? I never knew a guy like you would fall in love some dumb 19-20 year old college student like me. That was the closest I’ll ever have to having a normal life, but I gotta live this life until I die. I was brought up saving people, killing evil sons of bitches, and I went insane when that demon douchebag got to you. It drove me crazy”.

Tears start to form in Kate’s eyes, John tries to hold back tears, he never realized how much Kate cared about him. 

Paige is standing in the hallway outside the kitchen, and heard everything she said to John.

“I actually saw you in my future, as my husband, as the father to my kids. I’ll admit there are times where I’m jealous of Paige and Kenny’s relationship because that is one of the biggest rules with having a life like mine. No close friendships unless its with actual hunters of the supernatural, and no relationships”

She removes to gag from his mouth, and he says.

“I really meant that much to you?”

She nods her head, and they sit there in the kitchen. Tears in their eyes.

[tigerkirby215]

5e Teemo, the Swift Scout build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Riot Games)

So funny story: Teemo was originally going to be a Death Cleric and I had this massive joke about how “Illaoi was a Cleric with no Cleric levels and Lux should’ve been a Cleric but wasn’t and then the Devil himself ends up being a Cleric” but midway through writing this build I realized that another class made a lot more sense and I had to scrap like half my work.

Even on Tumblr Teemo annoys me.

GOALS

Swiftly - Teemo is literally called “the Swift Scout.” You’ll never guess what subclass we’re going to pick.

That's gotta sting - We’re going to need to fight dirty with poisons and blinds to overpower our foes.

Got a little surprise for 'em - Your enemies should never feel safe walking into your territory, knowing that a trap could be there just waiting for them.

RACE

One may think that to be a small Swift Scout one would want to be a halfling, but there are plenty of small races in 5e to choose from. This may come as a surprise but I’m actually going to suggest playing a Deep Gnome. Your Intelligence increases by 2 and you have Gnome Cunning for advantage on Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma saving throws against magic.

As a Deep Gnome your Dexterity increases by 1. You have Superior Darkvision of 120 feet, and advantage on Stealth checks to hide in rocky terrain thanks to Stone Camouflage. I mean, it’s not a bush but you could probably stealth in the jungle.

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - You don’t get the title of “The Swift Scout” by being slow on your feet. (Excluding the fact that you have 25 movement speed.)

14; INTELLIGENCE - Knowledge of guerilla warfare would be more intelligence-based.

13; WISDOM - Teemo is a survivalist, having to spend months in the jungle with nothing but mushrooms to keep him company.

12; CONSTITUTION - Even if Teemo is squishy in-game it’s still nice to have a bit of extra bulk.

10; STRENGTH - Teemo needs to be able to carry all his equipment, which is where Strength comes in.

8; CHARISMA - FUCKING TEEMOOOOOOOOOOOO. (Memes aside feel free to make your Strength lower I’m mostly just dumping Charisma for the meme.)

BACKGROUND

As a Survivalist the Outlander background is pretty good to take. You get proficiency in Athletics, but I’m actually going to suggest swapping your Survival proficiency with Medicine for reasons that are going to be clear later. Why Medicine? I think Teemo would remember to bring some health pots. Regardless you also get proficiency in a musical instrument of your choice (Spirit Blossom Teemo has a Flute so take that) and a language of your choice. (Which of course has to be Infernal kekw. But really pick whatever you think will be useful.)

As an Outlander your Wanderer feature will help you remember the layout of the map you’ve been on for 10 years, and you can find food and water for yourself and 5 other people due to your adept survival skills. Captain Teemo on duty!

(Artwork by Riot Games)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ROGUE 1

Starting off as a Rogue for the extra proficiencies. Take Acrobatics to swiftly run away, Stealth to... well, stealth, Deception to trick foes into walking onto your mushrooms, and Perception to gain vision with your traps. You also get Expertise in two skills: Acrobatics and Stealth will make you the master of hit-and-run.

Speaking of hit-and-run Rogues get Sneak Attack, allowing them to do an extra d6 of damage if they attack with Advantage, or if an ally is within 5 feet of the target they’re attacking. The attack has to be with a ranged weapon which is a good segway to talk about Teemo’s weapon. Blowguns do exist in 5e but they’re trash, so unless your DM is willing to give you a seriously strong blowgun I’d personally suggest just using a Light Crossbow... for now.

But if you meet any other Bandle Scouts out in the wild you can communicate with them using Thieves’ Cant, a secret code only taught to scouts and other Rogues.

LEVEL 2 - ROGUE 2

Hey it’s everyone’s favorite ability: Cunning Action! As a Bonus Action you can now Move Quick to Dash or Disengage, or use your passive to Hide. Of course Hiding with Expertise in Stealth and then popping out to shoot a poisoned “dart” (crossbow bolt) at an enemy is a good way to get a sneak attack off.

LEVEL 3 - ROGUE 3

Third level Rogues can choose their Roguish Archetype, and hey isn’t it funny that Rogues have a subclass called “Scout?” Scout Rogues are Skirmishers, allowing them to move up to half their movement speed away from an enemy if they end their turn within 5 feet of you as a reaction.

And remember how I told you to drop Survival proficiency? Scout Rogues gain free Expertise in both Survival and Nature thanks to the Survivalist skill! Now would be a good time to point out that D&D Beyond will let you change the proficiency in your background if you get it past level 1. Also your Sneak Attack increases to 2d6.

LEVEL 4 - ROGUE 4

4th level is our first Ability Score Improvement: for some Guerrilla Warfare take the Skulker feat to hide more easily in bushes, not reveal yourself when you attack, and see better while hiding in the brush.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 5 - WIZARD 1

Hey look everyone it’s my favorite class, because Teemo perpetually frustrates me! If you can’t tell this was going to be Cleric levels and I’m writing this immediately after scrapping like half my build so... a little annoyed. Yay.

Anyways Wizards at level one get Spellcasting: you get a Spellbook where you can write down 3 cantrips and four 1st level spells. Your cantrips are always ready but you can prepare a number of spells equal to your Wizard level plus your Intelligence modifier. Seeing as your INT mod is 3 that means you can prepare all the spells I list! (At least for level 1)

CANTRIPS

For a ranged source of poison damage take Infestation to both poison and confuse your foes to make it harder for them to approach you.

For a melee source of poison damage take Poison Spray for a lot of damage! What do you mean Poison damage is commonly resisted? I don’t know what you’re talking about.

To strategize with your team Message will let you keep quiet while preparing to ambush!

SPELLS

Snare is a trap spell that will let set up a trap. Not a mushroom trap, but a snare trap.

If you want to use your traps for information however Alarm will let you ward an area so you know if someone passes through it. Or you can make the alarm loud so everyone knows!

For some poisoned darts Ray of Sickness lets you do... exactly that. Shoot posioned darts to poison your foes.

Finally to Move Quick take Longstrider, which increases your movement speed by 10.

You also get access to Arcane Recovery, allowing you to recover Spell Slots on a Short Rest equal to half your Wizard level rounded up (with some finer details please read the description of the ability that I’m too lazy to describe.) Teemo has a lot of supplies to survive in the wilderness, so it’s not surprising he packed more darts.

LEVEL 6 - WIZARD 2

Second level Wizards can choose their Arcane Tradition and I’m actually going to suggest a bit of a wild card here: go for the Bladesinging subclass. Yes it’s meant for Elves only but I have never met a single DM who enforced that rule.

Regardless as a Bladesinger you have Training in War and Song for Performance proficiency, Light Armor proficiency (which you already have), and proficiency in one type of one-handed melee weapon. (Scimitars are the only Finesse weapon you don’t have proficiency in as a Rogue so that’s basically your only option.)

But the main feature of the Bladesinger is of course their Bladesong. You can activate your Bladesong as a bonus action for 1 minute. During Bladesong your AC increases equal to your Intelligence modifier, your walking speed increases by 10 feet, you have advantage on Acrobatics checks, and you get a bonus to Concentration checks equal to your Intelligence modifier.

“But Teemo doesn’t use a sword!” I hear you say. Well Bladesong ends if you use two hands to make an attack but you know what doesn’t take two hands to shoot? Well for one Blowguns, but since Blowguns in 5e suck: Hand crossbows! Get a Hand Crossbow to supplement a blowgun, and boom you’re still a ranged character! Yeah much to my surprise Bladesinger doesn’t have any restriction on using ranged weapons: you just can’t use two hands to make an attack. Regardless you have two uses of Bladesong per short or long rest.

You can also add two more first level spells to your spellbook like Detect Magic and Identify to help you know what you find in the wild.

LEVEL 7 - WIZARD 3

Third level Wizards can learn second level spells like Blindness / Deafness for a blinding dart, and Invisibility for more Guerrilla Warfare.

LEVEL 8 - WIZARD 4

4th level Wizards get another Ability Score Improvement but you know what we don’t have enough of? Feats! Take the Crossbow Expert feat to ignore the loading property on crossbows, ignore melee range disadvantage with crossbows, and attack with a hand crossbow with your bonus action after making the attack action. Stinger attack speed’s gotta sting!

Additionally you can learn another two spells at this level along with a new cantrip! For your leveled spells grab Misty Step for Flash and Enlarge / Reduce, because size doesn’t mean everything. For your cantrip Mending will help you keep your scout equipment in check.

LEVEL 9 - WIZARD 5

At level 5 you can learn 3rd level spells. You know what we haven’t gotten yet? Mushrooms. For a very expensive trap Glyph of Warding will let you put down a near-invisible glyph in an area for a mere 200 gold and 1 hour of set-up time. You decide what triggers the glyph, be it something complicated or something simple like an enemy walking near it.

When the spell activates you can choose one of two effects: the simple solution is just to make it explode for 5d8 acid, cold, fire, lightning, or thunder damage. Alternatively you could store a spell of third level or lower into it, and have it target whoever activates the glyph or the area around them. I’d highly suggest reading Glyph of Warding over in full before using the spell. It’s a powerful spell but it’s costly and requires a lot of set up time.

But you know what’s a simple spell? Fireball. Weaponize your shrooms for a big explosion of damage.

LEVEL 10 - WIZARD 6

6th level Bladesingers get an Extra Attack! Yup: that’s it! Because you’re a fake Fighter. But yeah this is primarily why we took Crossbow Expert, so you can still attack twice with a crossbow.

Well, you can also add another two spells to your spellbook. To move incredibly Swiftly take Haste. Other than that you can truly grab whatever spell you want as there isn’t much else that’s truly “in character” for such a simple character as Teemo. My out-of-character suggestion is to take Mirror Image from second level for a great boost to survivability. The only thing more annoying than one Teemo is three Teemos.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 11 - ROGUE 5

Back to our swift scouting ways 5th level Rogues get Uncanny Dodge, letting them use their reaction to reduce the damage of an attack by half. Your Sneak Attack damage also increases to 3d6.

LEVEL 12 - ROGUE 6

6th level Rogues get Expertise in two more skills: Perception will let you make good use of your wards, and Deception will let you make good use of your mushrooms.

LEVEL 13 - ROGUE 7

Isn’t Teemo really annoying and hard to kill? Well with Evasion he’ll be even harder to kill since he’ll take no damage on a successful Dexterity saving throw and only half damage if he fails. And your Sneak Attack increases to 4d6 too?!

LEVEL 14 - ROGUE 8

8th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement and you know: I don’t think we have enough Feats. Fade Away is a Gnome-specific feat that will let you get use out of your passive by turning invisible when you get hit as a reaction. You remain invisible until the end of your next turn or until you attack, deal damage, or force someone to make a saving throw. You can use this reaction once per short or long rest and it uses the same reaction as Uncanny Dodge, so use it wisely!

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 15 - ROGUE 9

At 9th level your Scout training gives you Superior Mobility for 10 extra feet of movement speed. "Hut, two, three, four!" Your Sneak Attack damage also increases to 5d6.

LEVEL 16 - ROGUE 10

10th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement to help compensate for all the feats. Increase your Dexterity and Wisdom by 1 for even Ability Scores.

LEVEL 17 - ROGUE 11

11th level Rogues get Reliable Talent so any roll with a skill you’re proficient in can’t be below a 10. If you roll a 9 or lower it counts as a 10. Whenever I get this ability I like to do a tally of all the skills you have and what the lowest potential roll is, so...

26 in Acrobatics (with Advantage if in Bladesong)

26 in Stealth (with Advantage to hide in rocky areas)

25 in Nature

24 in Perception or Survival

22 in Deception

18 in Medicine

16 in Athletics

15 in Performance

And to top it off your Sneak Attack damage increases to 6d6.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 18 - ROGUE 12

12th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement and as much as I want to take more Feats (believe me I do) let’s finally cap off that Dexterity score for the deadliest darts.

If you aren’t playing with Standard Array and want some more Feats here’s a few I could suggest:

Poisoner (Yeah duh)

Svirfneblin Magic (More blinds, among other things)

Alert (To always be ready for a fight)

Observant (A half feat to spot any incoming danger)

Tough (Just because you aren’t a tank doesn’t mean that Grasp of the Undying is a bad rune)

LEVEL 19 - ROGUE 13

With 13 levels in Scout you are an Ambush Master. You have advantage on initiative checks, and in addition the first creature you hit during the first round of a combat becomes easier to hit. Attack rolls against that target have advantage until the start of your next turn, because it’s pretty hard to defend yourself when blinded. "Smell that? That's fear." Your Sneak Attack also increases to 7d6.

LEVEL 20 - ROGUE 14

Your final level is the 14th level of Rogue for a 10 foot Blindsense, allowing you to sense any hidden or invisible creature near you. Clearly they only have camouflage.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Turns out I got a proficiency in killing - Up to three attacks per turn with a +11 to hit means it’s more than likely you’ll hit your 7d6 Sneak Attack. Not to mention the strength of Wizard spells, notably Fireball.

Wars are won with men, not machines - Rogues are skill monkies and it turns out you’re quite the asset outside of combat. Expertise in 6 skills, notably the ones to keep alive in the wilderness. And of course the ability to cast Ritual spells like Detect Magic and Identitfy.

Never underestimate the power of the Scout's code - So Teemo’s pretty annoying right? Well I didn’t realize he’d be so damn elusive! +11 to Dexterity saves with Evasion, 35 feet of movement, Advantage on all mental saves, insanely good stealth skills, reactions to get away from danger... And this isn’t even mentioning the benefits from being a Wizard! Bladesong lets you increase your AC by 3 (up to 20 if you’re wearing Studded Leather!) and increase your movement speed to 45... Oh and you can just turn invisible! As well as blind the enemy and speed yourself up.

CONS

Size is a liability - A few feats too many means not enough ability scores, yet somehow we don’t have enough feats for things like Poisoner. Perhaps reserve this build for when you can use Point Buy. Or at least ditch Skulker because you really don’t need it when you can, ya know... turn invisible?

You'd be surprised how quick fur ignites - Of course the lack of Ability Scores means that your Wizard DC isn’t fantastic. Granted most of your spells are utility but a lot of them require saves, and a lot more of them are rather weak. Poison damage is one of the worst damage types in the game and both your cantrips are poison, not to mention Ray of Sickness. Feel free to grab other spells as you see fit.

Lots to do before I punch out - Teemo is squishy in League and Wizard levels don’t help in D&D. Even with the +1 to CON you’ll likely have a little over 100 health by level 20, which easily puts you in Power Word Kill range. You’re elusive yes but a bit of bad luck and you’ll be six feet under.

But you’re not meant to be the strongest: you’re meant to be annoying. Hit-and-run, hide in the shadows, and whittle the enemy down before you win the war of attrition. You’re in it for the long-con, and not just the end game. You’re engaging in psychological warfare: tearing at your opponent’s mental state until nothing remains. You are a master of anger and temptation. You are a demon; a devil... Or you might just be a hamster with a blow gun.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

[angryhausfrau-writes]

I Travel Troubled Oceans: Chapter 9 - In Which Charles, Anne, and Mary Hang Out

Charles flops down next to Anne on the sofa, right on top of the blanket she's trying to pull out of its artsy drape and into something that will actually cover her. It's pouring rain outside, which explains why Charles is home instead of out working on his tan – but it don't explain why he's bothering her.

“Fuck do you want, Charles?”

Charles ignores Anne's snarling with the ease of long familiarity. “We haven't hung out in a while.” He shrugs. “Thought it might be nice.”

Anne scoffs. “Jack kick you out, then?”

Charles laughs. “He's reading on the shitter-”

“So we'll see him sometime tomorrow, then,” Anne interrupts.

Charles grins. “I'll follow him a lot of places, but that's not one of 'em.”

Anne laughs and moves her legs so Charles can sit down without breaking her legs. And they sit in silence for a while, neither of them being all that inclined towards talking.

But eventually Anne breaks it to say, “Used to be him, following you around like a puppy. It bother you it ain't like that no more?”

Anne's blunt as always. But it's probably the reason her and Charles get along so well – neither of them one to mince words.

Charles shrugs. “This is Jack's world. Max's world. I wouldn't know the first thing about navigating it.”

But Jack's always been sharp. Been able to read people. To plot the course through troubled waters and come out the other side victorious, teeth bared and bloody from the fight.

So no, Charles doesn't mind following a man like that.

Anne nods in understanding. “It ain't a world I know much about either. But I don't mind it as much as I thought I would.”

That's a bit of an understatement, if she's being honest. She's not Charles, she hadn't lived in rat infested leaky shitholes out of some sense of strength or pride. She'd done it cuz she'd had no choice.

And now that she's got the choice of being inside, nice and dry and warm, instead of out on a corner somewhere, pushing. Well, she's willing to fight to keep it. Even if she's gotta go through every rich fuckhead in London.

Although she's looking forward to a little action, if she's being honest. They've been gathering intel on various upper-class creeps for a while now. And Anne knows that they're playing the long game, here. And that Max is more interested in blackmail and leverage than any immediate material benefit. But Anne's itching to knife someone – or at least lift a wallet or two. She wouldn't want to get rusty.

“Things have been a little slow, though, lately, ain't they?”

Charles looks consideringly at her for a long minute.

“You want to go out?”

It's not an ideal day for it, given it's pissing rain. But Charles has a list of a few lower-level bureaucrats in the Councilor's office he's allowed to intimidate. And, thanks to his own tireless efforts collecting gossip, a whole list of ways to keep them in line. Some of which don't even have anything to do with threatening their lives, which is novel.

Anne shrugs. “Beats sitting around here.”

A pause.

“Think Mary'd want to come?”

Which from Anne is as good as an admission that she wants Mary along. That she likes spending time with her and wants to do it as much as possible And that is as good a confession of sappy love-like feelings as Anne is going to make.

So Charles, as a good friend, says, “Doesn't hurt to ask. She can't be busy with Jack's social media shit all the time.”

Jack emerges from the bathroom to a silent and empty house. Which is unusual – there's enough people living there that there's always someone around, even if it's one of the housekeepers and not the people who actually live there. And Charles has a penchant for loud music with lots of pounding basslines, so it's never really quiet when he's around.

But, as Jack wanders through empty room after empty room, it's becoming apparent that he's by himself in the house for once. And if that's the case, then it doesn't hurt to indulge in a little “me time,” now does it?

Jack makes a beeline for Anne's bathroom – the one with the nicest bathtub, even though she hardly uses it. And he lights some candles and puts on some soft music and lets the tub fill with hot water and lavender scented foam. And Jack may even pour himself a glass of wine, even though it's barely past noon. But he's a man of leisure now, and surely that allows for the occasional bout of day drinking.

He relaxes into the warm bath, his head cushioned on a folded towel, closes his eyes and breathes out all the stress and anxiety and worry about succeeding that he's been holding since this whole venture started.

Eme drives them all to the posh councilor's office downtown. One of those real bullshit steel and glass monstrosities that are meant to make you feel like some kinda insignificant piece of shit out on the sidewalk. But Charles has never been one to be plagued by self-doubt.

They strut into the towering, ostentatious and austere lobby. No appointment. No credentials. Just sheer chutzpah. Mary feels a little out of place, next to Charles and Anne. But she's also really looking forward to Charles Vane and Anne Bonny putting the fear of God into some of the sick fucks she's been putting files together on.

There's one guy in particular she'd – well, she wouldn't mind too much if Anne or Charles actually killed him. Preferably gruesomely.

But Charles isn't looking so much like a killer right now as he flirts with lobby security. Or at least Mary thinks it's flirting? It's vaguely menacing but there seems to be quite a lot of sensuality going on for it to be entirely threatening. Just lots of intense eye-contact and smoldering happening.

But whatever the fuck all that was works and the handsome Spanish security guard lets them through the little turnstyle barricade and Charles saunters towards the elevators, with Anne and then Mary following.

Charles grins and he can see in the mirrored door of the elevator that it's more of a snarl. He hadn't been lying to Anne when he'd said he didn't mind Jack leading them. But it feels good to be on the hunt again, with a crew – a crew he trusts - at his back. An adversary in front of him (or behind him, at this point, though Charles can also see the way the security guard's eyes stay on him, piercing) who understands who they both are – who sees and recognizes who Charles is, just as Charles recognizes him.

And then the elevator doors open to deposit a blonde woman in a skirt suit and Charles, Anne, and Mary disappear into the heart of the building, rocketing towards the thirty-eighth floor and the man they've come to threaten. It's too late to stop them. Too late to raise the alarm. Too late to do anything about their presence but wish them happy hunting.

It's not that Jack doesn't like running the crew. He'd been gunning for that position since before Charles ran away. Not to replace Charles, you understand, but to be on equal footing with him. To be seen by him, respected by him as an equal.

And then Charles had gone away for that two-stretch and there had been something of a power vacuum. One which Jack was all too ready and able to exploit. He'd been running Charles's former crew within a month and just sort of kept on running it even after Charles got out of prison.

Because he'd done a good job of running the crew. It's not boasting, it's just fact.

But then the whole Flint versus Eleanor debacle had happened. And now there's another power vacuum to fill – an even larger one, what with one of the richest men in London's extensive crime empire and one of the best street-level bosses out of the game. And Jack would be an idiot not to exploit that fact, even without Max and Mr. Scott there to convince him into it.

But it's so different to what he's done before, to what he knows.

He agrees with Max's end goal, of course. Integrating themselves into the existing power structure so thoroughly that they can get away with all the crimes the ruling class gets away with by dint of their name or lineage or wealth. And maybe make some of those fuckers pay their due along the way.

But that doesn't make it easy, leaving behind everything he's ever known for this scam. And it's even more difficult to know if he's plotting the right course. If he's doing right by his crew, who are his responsibility now.

The books never really prepare you for the harsh realities of leadership and glory and renown. Probably because the people writing them don't actually give half a shit about the people who got them there.

Like Flint, who both reviled and needed his crew and fell short of his goals because he underestimated them.

Like Eleanor, who refused to listen to anyone about anything and it cost her everything.

Jack refuses to be like either of them. Refuses to fall the way they did. If he's going to fail, it's going to be as Jack Rackham – and no one else.

Feeling much better after his strange, reverse-psychology internal monologue, Jack gets out of the bath to dry off and perhaps luxuriate in a robe on one of his many tasteful divans. Because really, there's no point in pretending to be a rich gay drama queen if he can't have an excessive number of divans in his home.

Unfortunately, his plans are ruined by the return of Charles, Anne, and Mary, back from- wherever they were. Probably up to no good, if the rather bloodthirsty smiles they're sporting is any indication. But Charles knows better than to cross Max – and Anne wouldn't unless there was a very, very good reason. And they come bearing take away. So it's probably nothing to worry about.

Everything's going to be fine.

Probably.

[solar-bean]

This is the very extensive and detailed rant of a fed up black, female student of class 2020

-You are free to scroll past this if you want. I really just needed to get this off my chest. But if you have advice or are experiencing a similar situation, feel free to message me-

So first off, I haven't liked going to school since I was 9. And highschool has only deepened my loathing of it. But maybe I don't hate school in general. Maybe I just hate the schools I've gone to ( 4 in total ). This rant is about highschool specifically. Perhaps what I'm about to type is normal and I'm overreacting. But I'm tired of not talking about my problems because I'm worried that I'll sound like an ungrateful brat. Typing/ writing about my issues makes me feel better. And I really need to feel better.

So here are the main points in order of severity: Low income, Advisory, Graphic Arts and Discipline/Work Ethic

Low Income:

I've only ever gone to low income schools in my neighborhood. I hoped high school would be different but thanks to the crappy education of my old school and an even crappier selective enrollment test score, I couldn't get into the schools I wanted. Then again my single mother probably couldn't afford those other schools anyway.

My highschool shares a building with another highschool. And unfortunately they called dibs on the best features and have control of the heating and ac. We don't even have our own gym. We also have the least amount of space with the smallest class being mine of 144 seniors. So there's a lot of packed classrooms.

Speaking of having way too many students, recourses are slim as a result. Our best equipment, chromebooks, need to be reserved weeks in advance by the teacher and even then they still may not be able to get enough of them for their class. Said chromebooks can often be missing keys, not work at all or be stolen easily because of their small size.

A few other issues are terrible lunches ( I've been bringing lunch from home since sophmore year), very limited field trips, mice infestation, very few clubs ( if we have any idk ) and teachers have to pay for just about everything class related.

Advisory:

Advisories were created to prepare us for greek life in college. I honestly think it's to keep everyone in check but ok. Even so I have absolutely 0 interest in anything frat or sorority related ( no offense to those who do ) as well as many of my classmates but advisory is mandatory.

My first 2 years of advisory were hell. Most of my advisory sisters were either people I'd never talk to because we weren't in the same class, had nothing in common or they were straight up terrible people. I should mention that freshman year has the worst students because about 30% don't make to the next grade or just transfer. Most of my advisory sisters I had problems with were in that 30% ( a few had already repeated ).

Since I kept to myself there were very few incidents were I was put into a tense situation with them. The main conflicts involved our advisor, who I guarantee you was not the problem. She was essentially a poor, white, optimistic, young math teacher from out of town that was thrown to the slaughter. And my cowardly self watched not wanting to be next.

She ended up leaving by junior year so what was left of my advisory merged with another and got a new advisor. The only downside is that our new advisor is a firm believer in " sisterhood " and no cliques ( even if you converse easier with a certain group of people and advisory is already a forced clique in itself ). Maybe I'd be more up for advisory events , which we rarely have , if my advisory experience wasn't sullied so early on.

Graphic Arts:

The reason I chose my school was because it had an art class. In seventh grade I knew I wanted to have a career in art and that my talent was lacking but had potential. So you can imagine my horror when I learned that the art teacher had left once I'd gotten there.

I was sad but stayed positive and even highly recommended them to get another art teacher. Then by sophomore we got an art after school program ( 4:25 to 6 twice a week ). I managed to keep my grades the same and take the classes every week for the entire school year. I only missed about 4 days total. For once I actually enjoyed staying after school.

The class taught me so much and I didn't have to wait for the summer to take an art class downtown. Even better I got to interact with other young artists of my race ( there was usually only one other black kid at the summer classes ). Everything was finally looking up.

Then the art galleries happened. The school hosted one per semester. I brought my art to display but I couldn't stay cuz of a shitload of math homework. I got complimented the next day but still regretted not staying. So I vowed to attend the next one with even more pieces than before.

The night finally came and I was hyped. Me and two seniors were in charge of doing caricatures for free ( one senior gave me a dollar tho ). I had fun with that but noticed something weird...none of our art was displayed.

Apparently they cut it out for time along with the theatre clubs performance. And I would've been fine with that. If my family hadn't come.

The icing on the cake was when they turned off the lights in the hallway where we were drawing the caricatures so they could start the show for the performing art groups. I couldn't contact my family until the show was over and booooiii were they pissed. Especially my mom. I was more sad than anything. I had a feeling my school valued the performing art more and this just proved that. At least now we have an actual art class. And my art teacher is awesome and supportive as hell.

Discipline/ Work Ethic:

These are together cuz they've equally fucked me up. Don't get me wrong. I have a 4.2 gpa and 0 detentions.

The problem is my classmates.

I have been to soooo many class/school meetings about behavior and grade issues over the past 4 years. One of which a staff member said " now i know all of ain't bs-in' but why aren't those people helping the ones who are."

Like wow! Thanks. I hate it.

I'd be happy to help my fellow classmates. It's just that their version of help is cheating off my tests and copying my homework.

So yeah my bad. I've been sooo selfish.

I can count on my hand the amount of times I've been told that I'm doing a good job directly and not in front of a class as a way to embarrass them.

This year behavior was so bad that they made a competition to see which advisory would get the least demerits. Big mistake. My heart goes out to all the poor well behaved students who lost because of a few advisory mates. It only takes one. The record for most demerits in a day was 30 I think.

I forgot the competition was going on at some point cuz I've only gotten 2 demerits in 4 years. My advisory won second and we played the waiting game for our prize only to have a pizza party with 17 other advisories. The winning advisory was salty as hell. But hey we got free lunch at least.

I managed to get good grades simply by doing everything on time and having no social life. This was by choice really. I promised myself I'd do better in college but now I gotta study for ap.

It was actually ap literature that gave me a new perspective on my classmates work ethic. We were given a lengthy reading assignment but the due date was stretched by two class days and the weekend. Even though I'd been mentally drained lately ( by lately I mean since the 1st week of school ) and had other work to do, I completed it with slightly less annotations.

Upon the due date I discovered that I and one other classmate completed the reading. Even the valedictorian didn't do it!!! And this wasn't a one time thing either.

In fact my class is notorious for never doing work on time. I'm talking completing-a-project-in-the-class before-the-it's -due- for bad. And some people I understand. Some of them really need help and resources. But every one else. Excuses excuses. The extended due dates gave me extra free time but it made the work I completed on time feel pointless. Like I could've just not done it and not face any consequences.

I tried that and was stressed out all day to the point of doing the work anyway. School's got me whipped I guess.

So if I hate highschool so much why do I go on time everyday, miss at most 3 days a year, do my work, behave myself and study??? Simple. I'm trying to get out. Having a good gpa and test scores will get me more scholarships cuz God knows my mom can't afford art college ( I got into my first choice so yeah:). Really highschool has just been a means to an end.

I've had my good days and have made some friends but I really just wanna run to hills with my diploma in hand. And thats what's kept me going. But now we're quarantined.

And my school has decided to make work optional.....and I have all A's......

Needless to say I've barely done any work at all. If we never have to go back theres a good chance I won't. I'm so numb at this point that I don't care that we may not have a prom ( aka the only dance I was ever going to go to ).

I'm just done. Done and fed up.

But thank you to my mom, family, bestie, teachers and my classmates that actually want to have a future for keeping me going. If I don't completely give up it's thanks to you. Future me, I hope you get everything you want at art school:)

[angrylizardjacket]

Run to Paradise {Nikki Sixx} Part 15

15. can’t buy happiness

Chapter Summary: Elektra’s record deal brings a windfall of cash into the lives of the band members, and as a former runaway, Lola’s not sure what to do with her newfound, legitimate salary. tommy moves in, the band meets doc, and they make it clear that lola’s staying on as part of the team. vince and lola have a moment that turns into a night which ends up interrupted by tommy but it all works out.

Warnings: drug use, drinking, implied/referenced nsfw, some violence, it’s 7am and this is super all over the place im so sorry omg. also this ABSOLUTELY follows the movie and not the book/real life

ragtag bunch of misfits: @starlalove​ @antisocialfictionhoe​ @obsessivesky​ @trpwthme @lovehelpmewrite​​ @colsons-crue​ @marvelismylifffe​ @lilytalebi​ @glitterdreamsz​ @freddiessmallnipples​ @crazysaladchopshop​ @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies​ @dramatique-moi​ @missqueeniewrites @calspixie​ @aryssav​ @catsoo12​ @sweetshutter​ @silvertonguedserpent​ @shamelessobsessions​ @lavenderbones22​ @keepcalm-and-beyou​ @scarecrowmax​ @nicholeh7​

{masterlist}

With the record deal comes cash, more of it than Lola had ever really considered in her life, and she suddenly feels like a kid again; uncertain, worried, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The others aren't like that, obviously, taking the opportunity to party as hard as they physically can between gigs, but most of her money goes into rent, bills, and fuelling her various drug and alcohol problems. Anything she couldn't afford, or anything she wanted that wasn't some sort of consumable, she usually stole or found on the street. Before Nikki, before the group home, she'd never had money of her own, any she would earn would be taken from her and "put into a college fund, so she could grow up and make dad proud" at least, that's what her mom told her. She had no idea where any of that money was now.

The point is, the band now had a payroll, and she was at the top of it, being paid an exorbitant amount for basically doing the same thing she'd been doing for the past few months. She kept most of it in a secure location in cash, having never been properly taught about basic adult tasks, like opening a bank account, but it worked for her, for now.

But, in all honesty, living with Nikki and Vince meant she actually didn't want for much. Clothes around the apartment were mostly communal property, apart from pants, which due to Lola's hips and thighs, and Nikki's height, meant they were the only items that weren't interchangeable between the three of them. Not long after, Nikki asks Tommy to move in, cites that they can afford half decent mattresses, and it would mean he could move out of his parents' house; he couldn't agree fast enough.

"Is it- you know, is it weird?" Lola overhears Tommy talking with Vince during practice, the two taking a smoke break out the front, looking out at the Strip as they leaned against the railing. The window's open and Lola's picking up bottles from around the apartment in preparation for the party that night, but she stops. They don't see her, neither of them looking out at the city, but she's worried that Tommy's going to be scared off before he even moves all of his shit in.

"What do you mean?" Vince asks, and Tommy just makes a vague noise that makes Vince laugh. "Lola? Do you mean 'cos of Lola?"

"Yeah, like isn't it weird, with her and Nikki, and you know," Tommy trails off, a little self consciously. It doesn't seem to bother the blonde, however, who hums for a moment.

"Dude, it's the same as not living here, 'long as you aren't the jealous type, you know?" Vince's grin was clear in his words, and Tommy huffed out a laugh, "go with the flow, you'll live longer." Vince claps him on the shoulder and Lola breathes a sigh of relief she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

Tommy adapts to their terrible, roach infested apartment fast, and for that Lola is grateful. She'd been worried, though she needn't have been.

"Dude, you don't work, why've you gotta leave?" He whines, his face pressed into her chest where she's sitting on his lap on the sofa, her duffel bag on her shoulder. Lola laughed, running her fingers through his hair, pulling back. When he looks up at her, his smile is sharp but there's something strangely soft shining in his eyes.

"So I can lift a quad box on my own," she murmured, and Tommy hummed appreciatively at the mental image, his hands sliding over the shiny material of her tights on her thighs. "I can already haul you dumbasses around and make it look easy," she smirked, "I need a challenge."

Tommy takes that as a challenge unto himself, and seems to make it hid personal mission in life to ride around on Lola's shoulders whenever the opportunity presented itself. His favourite was after gigs, at the bar, drunk and elated and on top of the world. Lola's a good base for stunts like this, and, not that she'll admit it out loud, enamoured enough with Tommy that she doesn't complain. Sometimes some of the other groupies at the bar, pretty waifish girls who cling to the band, give her dirty, confused looks, but she doesn't care. For the moment, she's thankful for her broad shoulders, thick thighs, and stocky build; Tommy tends to squirm, even if he doesn't mean to, but Lola finds it easy to keep him balanced.

There's parties at their house almost every night now; if it's not a party, it's practice, and they're in the recording studio every few days working on recording their first album. And Lola's there for all of it.

There's a hierarchy amongst the groupies of the Strip; girls who dated band members were at the top of the list, followed by girls who would see every show they could, followed by the more casual groupies, and Lola's always been in a sort of weird, grey area as she works with the bands, she's more in a league of her own. But there's no denying that with Motley Crue's success, and the nature of her relationship with them, Lola's found herself at the top of the hierarchy without even trying.

Beyond, she also gets along well with Zutaut; he respects her work ethic, and has a surprising penchant for partying, or at least, he seems to spend a fair amount of time at the parties the band held at their apartment. Lola blooms at parties. She's a hostess when she wants to be, not proud of the grubby, cramped apartment, but proud of herself, her boys, and the people they have in attendance. Mostly.

"Lola, baby," Vince catches her hand as she's making her way to the kitchen to grab a new drink for herself, and David Lee Roth, who'd taken up residence on their sofa for the night, her smile is bright, and she lets herself get pulled back to the table where the rest of the band had gathered, "you want a bump?" He asks, nudging Nikki who was cutting up lines of coke on a cymbal as they spoke. Lola hummed, deliberated for half a moment before she sat herself in Vince's lap, taking the cymbal as it was offered.

"Always," she grinned, making short work of the coke. She passes the cymbal back, trying to get back to her original task after giving him a quick kiss.

"You're always rushin' off," he mused, and Lola gave a small smile, getting to her feet.

"'cos I've got people to entertain, ass to kiss, I see you lot every day," her smile turns a little pleased, a little catty, "excuse me if I don't turn down a request from Diamond Dave."

As it turns out, she doesn't have time to even get back to the Van Halen singer before some random asshole tries to score a hit from the band, before Mick shoves him out of the way. The man, who's relatively wasted already, crashes into the wall, into the nice, ornate mirror that Lola had fished out of a dumpster a few months ago, knocking it off the wall and shattering it over Dave's head. He seems unperturbed, merely picking glass from his hair, but the rest of Motley Crue are on their feet in moments.

"Chill out, asshole, it's cool," the guy slurs, stumbling to his feet as Nikki's already yelling at him. Lola carefully puts both drinks she'd collected onto their table, slotting herself in to stand between Vince and Tommy, her expression cold; the hostess in her had left, only to be replaced with the security detail in her.

"Cool?" Nikki snarled, "that is David Lee Roth; how about you show a little respect or get the fuck out." He demanded, practically towering over the other man, who seemed high or drunk enough to not be intimidated.

"Make me, motherfucker," the man snapped, shoving Nikki, who went stumbling back. Lola's ready to vault the table, or at the very least, step around Vince, but she doesn't seem to need to, as a stocky man who looks out of place steps up and punches the other man in the face, pinning him with a foot on his neck, holding the man's hand behind his back. Lola feels a rush of respect towards this newcomer. He smiles at the bewildered faces of the band members, his eyes bright.

"You fellas are gonna need a manager." He grins, much to the confusion of the others, before he nods at the glass covered musician on the sofa, nodding in familiarity, "hey, Dave."

"What's everybody looking at?" He mutters in response, and the tension breaks, the rest of the party goers laugh and go back to their own conversations. Lola ferries Dave his drink and he thanks her with a half smile, but her mind's too focused on getting the rowdy drunkard from her house.

"Oh, good, you met Doc," Zutaut tells them with his trademark, nervous enthusiasm, shouldering his way through the crowd to the scene of the commotion.

"I can take it from here," Lola gestures to the man on the floor, and Doc raises an eyebrow at her. He gives her a quick look over and hands over the other man's raised hand, stepping back.

"He works with James Brown, Kiss, you name it," Zutaut's still smiling, clapping Doc on the shoulder, despite the way Mick's expression is souring.

"Fuckin' hate Kiss."

Lola yanks the man to his feet, misses most of the rest of their exchange as she holds both his arms behind his back with one hand, holding his collar with the other as she pushes him to the door. He's yelling, slurring, hollering at her for having the gall to try and kick him out. He wriggles, tries his hardest to break her grip, even as she's shoving him out of their window onto the landing outside.

"If you don't shut the fuck up," Lola grunted, expression twisted into something resembling disgust as she had her hands on the man's ass, pushing roughly as he refused to go willingly through the window, "I'm gonna knock you the fuck out, and drag you down the stairs myself, you'll wake up in a dumpster and I'll be-" with a final shove, he was finally through. Landing face first, he scrambles to his feet, trying to get back in, but Lola's already climbed out after him, "laughing." She breathes after the exertion of getting him out, "I'll be laughing."

"Fuck you." He slurs, stumbling. It's all too easy for Lola to simply grab one of his wrists and start to drag him down the stairs. He's too focused on not falling down the stairs at the pace she's setting to try and attack or break free. He's still mumbling curses, but he's already seemed to have forgotten why he was angry by the time she's got him back on the footpath outside of the building. Turning him to face her, she holds him by the shoulders, looking him very seriously in the eye.

"If you come back here, I'm gonna cut you with part of that mirror you broke," she tells him, voice level and matter-of-fact. He blinks, frowns, hiccups. She has a whole rant planned out in her head, but it would be wasted on him. Instead, she spins him around three times to disorientate him, and sends him off down the sidewalk. He's got no fight left in him, thankfully, and he seems happy to trail away.

Lola groans and heads back to the party.

"I spent years trying to find a good, gold-edged mirror," she groans once she's back inside apartment, draping herself over Nikki where he's sat back at the table, resting her chin on top of his head. She's interrupting a conversation with Doc, but she can't bring herself to care.

"And this is -?" Doc gestures to a now pouting Lola. She's leaning heavily against him, her arms wrapped loosely around him. One of Nikki's hands finds hers, without even breaking eye contact with Doc, and he wraps his fingers around her wrist.

"Lola Gone; she's our security detail." Nikki's voice doesn't leave room for argument, but Lola's expression is smug when Doc's gaze flicks to it.

"Our roadie, too," Mick chimes in, before taking a sip from his beer, his tone just as resolute as Nikki's.

"Best roadie in LA," Tommy adds, inclining both his head and his drink towards Lola, and her smile softens a little at that.

"Yeah, she's the one I was telling you about over the phone; the assistant," they all hear it when Zutaut leans over to mutter to Doc, and the manager nodded seriously for a moment, considering her. He wasn't frowning, just... contemplative.

"She's pretty integral to this whole thing, man," Vince fills in the dead air, and then all four members of Motley Crue, and Lola herself, were all staring down Zutaut and Doc.

"If she's what's been keeping the wheels turning, show-to-show, I wouldn't dream of getting rid of her," Doc smiles a carefully cultivated, show business smile, and Lola gave him her snake charmer smile in return, all teeth and the promise of a bigger bite. "You'll have to excuse me, Miss Gone, I'm not personally acquainted with your work, but I suppose I should have recognised you; your reputation precedes you." And Lola's not quite sure how to take that. Raising an eyebrow, she watches Doc's lips quirk into the barest smile, and he doesn't elaborate, but he compliments her on how well she was able to deal with the guy who broke the mirror.

Lola leaves them to it after that, grabs her now lukewarm drink and sweetly asks for a seat by Diamond Dave; the groupie who's curled herself up by him takes one look at Lola and moves, taking a seat on Dave's other side, on the arm of the sofa, making room for Lola. Lola gives the girls a sweet smile, holding out her hand for the girl, and when the girl takes it, Lola presses a kiss to the back of her hand, giving her an affectionate squeeze.

"Thank you, babe," Lola tells her, as sincerely as she can manage, before dropping her hand and nudging Dave's shoulder gently, "she's so sweet, isn't she?" She asks him pointedly. He looks up from the photoframe from which he was snorting up coke, passing it to Lola before looking up at the now flustered groupie. "Cute, too," Lola mentions with absolutely no tact, before doing a line, but he's not picky, and the groupie was quickly turning red.

She knows she has a chance if she wants to get in with the both of them, or whoever Dave ends up with, but her heart's not in it. She stays where she is for the moment because he's got some incredibly high quality blow, but her mind keeps playing the band's words over in her head; they may have overstated how valuable to the process overall - technically any roadie could do her job, just less efficiently - but it makes her feel strangely warm. Pleased.

Vince catches her smiling to herself, bopping along to music filtering in from the record player as she weaves in between people, trying to get to the fridge, and he smiles back at her when her gaze meets his. It's fond and kind in equal measure. Zutaut and Doc have dispersed into the crowd, and Tommy and Nikki are excitedly babbling over each other across Vince, and Mick's probably gone to lie down.

But Vince is watching Lola as she's dancing along to David Bowie, and he can't stop smiling.

"You guys like having me around," Lola laughed, low and a little awed, leaning against the railing on the landing outside. Vince holds out his lighter, lights the cigarette that's poised between her lips, and smirks. Before he can even begin to tease her for her terribly worded thought, she waived him off, clarifying, "like I know you guys like me, but like, it's nice to hear, you know?" Her smile was so pleased it almost bordered on smug and she pushed herself off the railing, stepping into his space and wrapping her arms around him. "Integral," she murmured, a teasing edge to her words, "where'd you learn a ten dollar word like that?"

"I could take it back," Vince raised his eyebrows at her, though he's pulling her closer, "go back in there, tell Doc you're a dime-a-dozen." But Lola doesn't seem perturbed by his obvious bluff, in fact, she's smiling like the cat who got the cream.

"But you wouldn't," she practically sang, though her voice was barely louder than a murmur, "you wanna keep me around and I'm not letting you take that back."

There's a moment where his expression softens; he's endeared by her cockiness, a fact of which she is well aware, but he can't help the way he smiles at her sometimes. Or perhaps it's that he knows she turned down a shot with David Lee Roth; it doesn't really matter if it was for anyone else specifically, she's with him here and now.

"Wouldn't want to, even if I could." Sometimes he's a sap, knows exactly what to say, how to push her buttons, but it's never malicious; he likes the way she smiles, the way she kisses him, the way she pulls him close. It's clear she's proud, it manages to bleed through in all her actions though she doesn't say it; she's reverential in the way she treats him, starry-eyed and adoring.

The only problem comes in the shape of Tommy, stumbling into the room, practically incoherent as the party's winding down. It's well past two and Lola and Vince were actually almost asleep.

"Did I-" Tommy hummed for a moment, before yawning loudly, "interrupt?" He was already struggling to pull off his leather pants, his shirt having been lost sometime earlier, as it was want to do.

"Just trying to get to sleep, dude," Vince hummed, tucking his face into the crook of Lola's neck, his chest pressed to her back. Lola yawned, her eyes staying firmly closed. They, however, did not stay this way, as a mostly pantless Tommy managed to bipass his own bed in the struggle with his pants, and fall directly on top of the pair. He lands with an 'oof' with his pants caught on the heel of one foot.

"Sorry."

Lola grumbles and Vince hits him on the back of the head, but Tommy doesn't move from the bed, just sits up and pulls off his pants with one final tug, before laying back down, this time beside them. Silence, very awkward silence, fills the room.

"You're in the wrong bed, Tommy," Vince tells him very pointedly. Tommy sighs and swears, but just shifts a little, as if getting more comfortable.

"How come your sheets are nicer than mine?"

"Because I paid top fuckin' dollar for these sheets the minute I could afford them," Vince informs him with a sigh. Lola hums, but reaches out, resting her hand on his hip, fingertips gently brushing circles against the bare skin of his upper thigh. Even in underwear he was still more decent than either Lola or Vince, who just had the blanket for modesty.

"Dude, you know we were fucking, right?" Lola asks, biting back a laugh. Tommy sighs.

"Yeah," he contemplates for a moment, "I should move, shouldn't I?" But he didn't. Instead, he shuffled back. "Is it weird if I stay?"

"At this point nothing's weird," Vince snickered, "I've seen you do some fucked up shit, man, and I'm too tired for it to be weird." He admitted, and Tommy let out a triumphant laugh.

"Oh, fuck that is too true, man; fuck this band is awesome," the grin is clear in his words, though neither of the other two can quite decipher exactly what he means by that, but then he's pulling the blanket up over himself, letting Lola pull him close.

"I mean, it's a bit weird, but that's mainly because you're still wearing socks," Lola tells him, and automatically Tommy starts wriggling, trying to pull at his socks, "now- oof, god why is your ass so bony? - you're making it weird, dude, leave it." Lola half laughs, pulling him back to her, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade, as Tommy tries to apologise for his socks, "just shut up and be the little spoon."

[thegothwriterwithluv]

Little soldier Redfield

Chris Redfield x Child Reader 8

When a BOW took a stay in your city it caught you and your parents off. when the huge beast was dropped down in your city you were in school completing some easy math work that had been handed out to the class before you all hear a loud from your class your teacher leaves the class room for a second but quickly comes in and starts gathering all of the children into a corner.

A loud bang on our door shook our class into fear, the children cried loudly as the banging continues until the door finally break and a huge dog runs in making the children scream you had seen a dog before but this one was different he didn't look right he looked....sick. Our teacher throws things at the dog but he continues on pouncing on her immediately tearing into her neck splattering blood all over the childrens face including yours

The traumatizing sight made you freeze until the children screamed louder than you had ever heard making the dog stare into the group. Shoots fired from the hallways making the animal frightened and quickly running into the hallway

Your father runs into your class room holding a gun and covered in blood he grabs you holding you tightly. "Oh thank god you're ok! " You hold him tight and he picks you up. "Come on children we're getting you to safety" All of the children lock arms and quickly follow him to the school office where some staff had locked themselves into

He drops off the children and leaves only hoping for the best. You hold onto him shoving your face into his shoulder as he runs into a pack of zombies. "Damn" He looked into his gun and groans. "Empty..." He quickly runs into another direction finding a building with a long stair case to the top

He pushes a large desk in front of the door and puts you down. "Stay right here ok baby daddy will be right back" He started to empty the building full of ammo. You start to roam a bit throughout the hallways you were never really good at listening to anyone even your parents so staying still wasn't really an option for you. After roaming a bit you open a door leading to the outside and a small group of armed men they didn't seem to notice you as they talked. "Captain the city is infested with BOW 's we need a better approach to get through" You looked at there shirts. "B.S.A.A? " You said out loud making a man look at you. "A... Child?? " One of the men said as the bigger one came towards you. "Hello little one" You quickly ran getting scared heading back too where your father had told you to stay.

"Y/n what the hell I thought I told you to keep still! " You pull on his shirt and point into the direction you came from there were now footsteps coming towards them. "Captain I think this maybe an entrance! " Your father pointed his gun towards them. "Who are you all! We want nothing to do with you! " He picked you up once again as the bigger man stepped in front of his soldiers. "We mean no harm we are just here to stop the treat" He looks over to you. "Your daughter may have just saved your city" His soldier quickly lower there guns and make there way towards the door. "Wait no! There are horreds of them out there you'll all be killed! " Your father put you down as the so called captain came up to you. "Hello again small one" You bit your tiny finger nails and swayed a little. "My name is Chris what's yours" You moved you hand from your face. "Y/n..." Was all you said before the sound of gunshots filled your ears again

You quickly made your way back to your father and he picks you up again. "It's ok baby these men now what they are doing" As they leave the room you and your father got slip up from Chris and his crew this made the two of you very vulnerable

You had made it back to your house but your father had been heavily injured from the notes you picked up they are called 'Lickers' should have warned him his back was bleeding like crazy from just one scratch you had scapes and bruises from falling and crashing into things he had given you his handgun but you still couldn't protect him the AR the BSAA gave him was just about empty and the bleeding was getting worse but he was still kicking. "Come on baby we gotta leave the city" He tried to pick you up but failed he could hardly move

He wouldn't be able to run that would be a problem...he opens the door to the house and groans as he limps out the door. "Follow me ok? " You nod quickly

Wasn't long before you two were attacked again but this time my father nearly screamed as he ran. you crawled under a blocked doorway and your father followed nearly dropping to his knees to get down a zombie close by grabs at his leg pulling him away he faught as you held onto his arm he had little energy left. "Kick it Daddy! " You yelled to him but he didn't respond his grip soon loosened and he was dragged off by the group of zombies you cried loudly now left alone on the other side of the door that killed your father. "Daddy??? Daddy??? " You called out only getting a growl back from the hunger zombies. You hold your knees close to your face silently crying and too scared to move

When gun shots started up again you didn't even flinch probably just survivors...you thought until familiar voices filled your Ears. "Captain we found the father but he's...unresponsive the girl is yet to be found" Chris groans. "Find her she can't be far" His soldiers raided the building looking all over but you only raised your head to the heavy footsteps towards your door. "Little girl? Y/n? You can come out its safe" He held is head out from under the door and you immediately grab it and hug his leg. "C.. Chris?? " You had tears in your eyes and snot dripping from your nose. be picks you up and holds you close to him. "It's alright don't cry" Glancing over his shoulder you see the mangled body of your father making you scream louder into his shoulder as he slowly rocked you."shhh it's alright little one it's ok".after the mission you were basically attached to Chris refusing to leave his arms all the way back to BSAA headquarters

12 YEAR LATER

You had stayed at the BSAA headquarters for about 11 and a half years you got you education there your combat skills and today, you were finally old enough to join a mission but this wasn't just an ordinary it was a mission to your home...your city...your fathers grave Appearently they hadn't given the city enough shit and brought a nasty virus along with a BOW,fucking BOW's...you had grown such a hatred towards the word alone

"Y/n are you ready" Chris asked you as the plane was about to land, you only response with a groan and turned your head away. "Y/n" He said sternly turning your head back with a little force. "Yes captain..." He let go of your face and got up

Let's get to work...