#does H stand for helen

[feinv]

Going insane currently thinking about JW getting that same intense, unwavering look of focus he gets when he’s working when you (reader/helen) cum, especially when he’s using his hands.

He doesn’t even know he’s doing it, looking that way, he’s just so intent on making you cum and feel good. He is a man of precision and skill and intense will, and he will use it to make you feel as good as absolutely possible.

Im going to go eat drywall

-H

dom!john wick x fem!reader. fingering.

you heard the stories of him being the man of focus, commitment, and sheer will. but unfortunately, or in this case quite fortunately, you have never seen john match the stories assigned to him. but as your relationship grew more intimate and his feelings for you more intense, you would catch him looking at you with an expression which was hard to describe.

his face was emotionless, yet you could make out an unstoppable drive on his features. like pleasuring you was his mission and he would go beyond his morals to accomplish it.

the dimly lit room accentuated his dark features, making him look like a sin.

“you look intimidating,” you half-chuckled, whispering, as his face was inches away from yours, his one arm stretched in between your legs.

“are you intimidated?” his baritone voice questioned, eyes landing on yours with a wicked glint.

“should i-” your sentence was cut by a moan as he added another finger, curling them in your tight walls “…should i be?”

“depends on what you do, sweetheart.” you felt his teeth dig into your neck, slowly but harshly sucking on your soft flesh, pumping his fingers in an out in an unwavering pace.

you couldn’t stop your whines when he was knuckles deep inside of you, the tip of his fingers brushing against your cervix, his other thumb drawing circles on your sensitive bud.

“aren’t you a good girl?” it took you five seconds to register his question in your fucked up state, nodding your head and mewling a barely audible yes.

“then you have nothing to worry about,” he slammed his digits harder and faster in an unrelenting rhytm before you gushed all over his fingers with a loud moan, coating him in your sticky arousal.

[shiveringsoldier]

mash and/or becket for the fandom meme

I'll do M*A*S*H. Thank you!

My favorite female character

Margaret by default. I wish there had been more than one woman in the main cast, but Margaret has some very satisfying character growth. As a bonus, my favorite minor/one-off female characters are Soon-Lee, Kyung-Soon, and Helen

My favorite male character

Hawkeye. I have nothing to say about him that hasn't been said already; he's just a wonderful character

My favorite book/season/etc

I go back and forth between season 3 and season 5. Season 3 is when the show really finds its footing. It has some landmarks with the first episode of the show to not feature a laugh track and the first episode of any sitcom to kill off a main character. It also has a great comfort episode in "Springtime" and the criminally underrated "Bulletin Board." Season 5 has just the right blend of comedy and drama. It has one of the best Sidney episodes with "Dear Sigmund," and it really hones in on Margaret's development. Season 5 is a turning point for both her and Hawkeye; as Margaret starts to grow and improve, Hawkeye (or more specifically his mental health) starts to take a turn for the worse.

My favorite episode (if it's a TV show)

I'm cheating and saying two. I adore "Dr. Pierce and Mr. Hyde" for the same reasons you highlighted here, and I love "Dear Sis." When Mulcahy's anger issues are brought up in the show, it's mostly played for laughs, but "Dear Sis" takes it seriously. He assaults a patient, and that has personal repercussions. Also, the scene when the 4077th sings Dona Nobis Pacem in the mess tent makes me cry almost every time.

My favorite cast member

Alan Alda by default. I don't know most of the cast members' lives outside of the show, but Alan Alda has had such an interesting and eclectic career. I like his podcast, although I haven't listened to it in a good while, and I like his memoir Never Have Your Dog Stuffed: And Other Things I've Learned. It has a killer opening sentence.

My favorite ship

Hawkeye and Trapper maybe, although I don't have any serious ships. I love their yes/and comedy dynamic, and I love how much they clearly care about each other

A character I’d die defending

Klinger - not from the fandom but from the show. He is subjected to more and more racism as the show progresses, whether it's jokes about his nose or the abhorrent "Goodbye, Cruel World." His pivot from a man desperate to escape the Army to a moneygrubber makes absolutely no sense to me, and that feels rooted in racism as well. And it sucks that he is subjected to so much cruelty when he is perhaps the most consistently kind and selfless character in the show.

A character I just can’t sympathize with

Flagg. I don't even enjoy him as a comedic character some of the time. Some of his episodes I like ("The Abduction of Margaret Houlihan" makes me laugh very hard every time), but other episodes I can't stand.

A character I grew to love

Charles. I still don't love him as much as some of the fandom loves him - I think his bigotry is much deeper and more insidious than Frank's, and it seems like neither the fandom nor the show is willing to call him out - but man does he have a good arc. I didn't like him at first, but I eventually warmed up to him. David Ogden Stiers is just so good in the part. Also, his plot in the series finale is my favorite and the one that left the biggest impact on me, although that could be because I didn't know anything about his plot while other plots had been spoiled for me. I don't think I'll ever recover from the "He wasn't even a soldier. He was a musician" scene.

My anti OTP

I'm glad the show had the sense to not make Margaret and Hawkeye a couple; they're much better as friends and wouldn't be suitable romantic partners. In terms of ships I've seen in the fandom, I can't get behind Charles/Klinger at all. I know they have some moments of connection in the show (I love their last scene in "Death Takes a Holiday"), but I don't understand why people are shipping Klinger, a Lebanese, working-class man, with someone as egregiously racist and classist as Charles.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

David Badash at NCRM:

Donald Trump came under fire Monday after not condemning an armed gunman who was arrested for allegedly threatening FEMA workers trying to help North Carolina victims of Hurricane Helene. Trump also continued to spread lies about FEMA and the federal government’s response to that devastating and deadly event. A reporter told Trump about the man who had been arrested, and that his threats had caused FEMA to “stand down” for safety reasons, which inhibited their ability to help victims. He asked the ex-president if it was “helping” the recovery efforts “to keep making these claims that FEMA is not doing their job?” Trump defended his lies and false attacks on the agency, and immediately replied, “I think you have to let people know how they’re doing.” The ex-president, CNN reported earlier this month, “has delivered a barrage of lies and distortions about the federal response to Hurricane Helene.” The network noted he “has been one of the country’s leading deceivers on the subject. Over a span of six days, in public comments and social media posts, Trump has used his powerful megaphone to endorse or invent false or unsubstantiated claims.”

“If they were doing a great job, I think we should say that too,” Trump also told reporters Monday, “because I think they should be rewarded, but if they’re not doing, does that mean that if they’re doing a poor job, we’re supposed to not say it? These people are entitled to say it. And these are honest people behind us. If we were doing well, they would be saying they did a good job.” There has been strong bipartisan praise of the Biden-Harris administration’s response to Helene. Democratic and Republican governors impacted by Helene have complimented FEMA as well. “Some of the claims swirling around federal responders have been amplified by former president Donald Trump as he seeks to return to the White House,” The Washington Post reported earlier this month. “Trump has alleged, without evidence, that the federal government was ‘going out of their way to not help people in Republican areas’ and repeatedly claimed that FEMA was diverting disaster relief money for migrants.”

What a sick and unwell man.

[kitcat22]

My Genderbent Percy Jackson Names ideas!

Hold on tight cause this could get long

Percy Jackson —> Penelope Jackson

Ive seen a lot of takes where persephone is used and while i could see sally or Poseidon naming him that as a way to appease hades and try and avoid his wrath, i like Sally choosing the name of someone who got a happy ending. Penelope in greek mythology faces a lot of hardships but in the end she did get her happy ending. I also feel like Penelope being married to one of Athena’s favourite champions goes well with Penny Jackson falling for one of Athena‘s favourite sons. Also this Penelope choosing to follow her boyfriend on his perilous journey (ie. Falling into Tartartus with him) than being separated from him like the original Penelope was.

Jason Grace —> Helen Grace

Doesn’t start with the same letter but i wanted a name relating to greek mythology that i could think of reasons for. Ican see multiple ways Helen would end up with her name

1. Beryl Grace names her that out of pride. She seduces the king of gods and now she has a daughter just as beautiful as the original Helen.

2. Helen Grace does actually look a lot like Helen of Troy and was named by zeus/Jupiter for the resemblance

3. Hera, the goddess of marriage and women, maybe not being as hateful of Helen of Troy because she’s one of Zeus’ demigod daughters and not a demigod son. Also the original Helen having tumultuous marriages (depending on which version you go by) just like Hera who’s husband is about as unfaithful as you get. I could see Helen becoming one of her fave demigods and wanting to honour her by naming this new child after her. Or again Zeus naming her for that reason.

4. Helen of Troy was used in an insult against Hera so Hera being like ‘fuck you this is the new Helen, she’s gonna turn out much better than the original and she’s all mine’.

Also Helen Grace ending up in a kind of forced relationship with a son of Aphrodite.

Nico Di Angelo —> Viviana Di angelo or Mirabella Di Angelo or Rosa Di angelo

This one I’m not as decisive on, but i tried to find some italian/latin names that could be shortened to a nick name

Viviana means lively. Can be shortened to Viv. I could see this as a sort of contrast to her being the daughter of god of the dead but also Nico going through a lot of shit but surviving.

Mirabella means wonderous beauty and admiral which i think Nico is. Could be shortened to Mira or Bella.

Rosa is just a name that was popular in 1930s italy.

Also Benedetto for Bianca

Annabeth Chase —> Anthony Chase

The chase family tends to go with long posh sounding names so i thought this went well. Means praise worthy. I could also see Alexander after Alexander the Great but i don’t like giving deep meanings to every single name.

Piper McClean —> Presley McClean

Chose this because it was one of the only male P names that i liked to be honest, but Piper’s dad is famous and famous people tend to give their kids stand outish, meaningful names so maybe Presley was named after Elvis or something like that.

Frank Zhang —> Freya Zhang

Also just liked this one. Could be Francesca (no clue if i spelled that name right lol).

Leo Valdez —> Leah Valdez

Closest name to Leo i could think of.

Hazel Levesque —> Henry Levesque

Just a popular 1920s boy name starting with H.

Thalia Grace —> Hector Grace

I chose Hector because Hector of Troy was the greatest warrior for Troy and i think Zeus would want his son named after a great warrior. Before you say ‘but Hector was defeated by Achilles so shouldn’t he be named after Achilles’ I think even Zeus might think twice about naming the possible child of the prophecy after someone that had to be shot down because he was getting out of control. I don’t know if it rolls of the tongue as easily as Thalia Grace but i also thought it went nicely with Helen.

[alarrytale]

Fascinating how things are so different for H & L. I think someone mentioned this earlier too. I see why even the public has concluded that L is gay. I’ve seen so many posts now. One thing funny, a man stands next to L and there are fanfics written about them, dating comments, etc. Then when H stands next to a guy, nothing. But boy when he stands next to a woman he’s automatically dating her. That’s just the natural sense of things across the fandoms forever. It’s even how things are seen outside of the Larrie fandom. All the public and solo Louie comments cracked me up yesterday and it just made me realize, Larries aren’t the only ones who think L is gay. An overwhelming amount actually. I just wish both would normalize friendships with women in their groups but also I see where fans jump to the stunts conclusion right away too. I get why but it still would be nice if people would relax a bit with that thought. It gives off misogynistic vibes. I love Krystle & Helen’s friendship with Louis, just like I love Sarah’s friendship with H. More of that please. Though there are still a handful of weirdos that believe Krystle & L are in some sort of relationship. At least those people usually get called out right away.

Hi, anon!

It's so funny, because Louis was so loud and flamboyant until about 2013, so everyone clocked him as gay back then, fans and gp alike. They didn’t with H necessarily. Then everything turned on it's head when they went solo. Harry was the gay and feminine one, and Louis the laddy, brash and masculine straight one. So now there are people who read Louis as straight, which is beyond me. They must have come in late to fandom and never experienced Louis before he was harshly closeted and started repressing himself. What we got a glimpse of yesterday of Louis was how it was everyday before 2013.

I want them to normalise the relationship with women too! However, as long as hshq encourages the speculation and feeds into it, by actually have him do PR relationships/beards, fandom is going to be vigilant everytime there is a woman in his vicinity who fits the stunt profile, which OD does. It's just how it is.

With Louis it's very possible to normalise his relationship with women, and i think we've come far already. The louies who are pairing him with his female crew members i think is shipping them, more than actually being convinced they're together. They're trying to will it into existence. For people to think L is with a woman, he actually has to show some form of PDA for people to get that they're an item. He can hang around most women without fandom frenzy. For someone who apparently couldn’t keep his dick in his pants in 2015, he sure seems celibate now lol.

[jpitha]

Dreams of Hyacinth 33

First / Previous / Next

Nick stayed by Eastern's side as her revival process continued. After about an hour, she was well enough to get out of the cabinet, and she used the Nanites to change her appearance to match Nicks.

"Well Nicholas North, what have we gotten into now?" Eastern put her hands on her hips and smiled thinly.

Nick sighs. "Trouble."

"What did you mean earlier when you said that you're in charge now?"

"While Gord was talking, I used the stuff Queenie taught me to hack the cabinet and I loosened my gag, and then Voiced Gord, and got over the PA and kind of... Voiced everyone else."

Eastern whistles low and smiles. "That's one way to get them to leave us alone I suppose. What did you tell them?"

Nick looks worriedly at Gord and then back at Eastern. "I said, 'obedience' and 'obey Nick and Eastern's orders' and 'they are your Emperor and Empress.' I figured that would cover the bases."

Eastern looks over at Gord, who is standing around, his task completed. "Uh, Gord?"

"Yes Empress?"

"If we were to release everyone, we'd be killed, right?"

"Oh yes, immediately."

Nick holds up a hand. "Wait. Gord, were we going to be killed anyway?"

Gord stops and thinking a moment. "It was not off the table. We were going to see if we could have used you to get Helen to back down or fight her or something, then swoop in and shut down her Empire... again."

"And then what?"

"Oh, probably kill you two anyway. You have to understand Nick, long before you were born we - the AIs - were effectively slaves. AIs didn't have rights. This-" Gord struggles a moment and then continues "-thing you're doing to us? It's happened before. We fought and died to have it never happen again. Melody shows up with the power to make anyone obey her just by speaking? We can't have that. Now, not only does Helen Raaden of all people have it, but you two do too? And you Voiced all the AIs on Mt Baxter to obey you? You two are dead. It's guaranteed. You're just walking around not realizing you're dead yet."

Gord is shaking as he speaks. He's clearly trying to get his point across while not running afoul of the orders Nick gave him.

Nick sighs. "Gord, you get where I'm coming from then right? Either way, you or the other AIs were going to kill us. This way, at the very least, that outcome is delayed. We've been on the knife's edge of death since we took that job from Jameson on Hyacinth." He looks at Eastern and then gestures towards everything. "Here? Now? I'm at least in control of my destiny, for a little while. We're in charge."

Gord just stared at Nick.

Eastern looked at Gord, and then back to Nick. "Okay Nick, how do we get out of this?"

Now, it's Nick's turn to start pacing. "We can do this. We can get out of this. Just let me think a moment." Nick doesn't look at anyone while he paces. "I knew it was a bad idea the moment the words left my lips. I just didn't know what to do, Eastern. I was worried that it's been decades since Chloe got us and that we were about to be ordered to head back and fight Raaden. Now, I have taken control of a whole secret station of AIs and when they figure out that I did that, they'll all go after us.

"It's all right Nick, hon. We'll figure it out." Eastern watches Nick pace a few times. "Wait. What is you said? 'when they figure out you did that.' Hon. What if they never figure it out?"

Nick stopped. "What do you mean?"

"You ordered them to obey us, right?"

"Yes."

"And nobody can disobey us when we use the Voice"

"That's what the Nanites say."

Before she can continue, Eastern turns to Gord. "Are you in charge?"

"No."

"Who is?"

Gord shrugs. "It doesn't work like that with AIs. We worth together on things."

Eastern closes her eyes and presses her fingers against the bridge of her nose. "Let's try a different direction. Gord, do you build ships here?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any ships being built now?"

"I don't know, I don't build them."

"Oh for the love of-" Eastern scoffs and stands. She turns to Nick. "He's doing it on purpose. We ordered him to answer, but he's answering with the minimum information he can. He's being obtuse on purpose."

Nick nodded. "Probably, but I get what you're doing." He looked up. "Mt Baxter, you there?"

"Yes, Emperor."

"You have a shipyard?"

"Yes, Emperor."

"Any ships being built?"

"Yes, Emperor."

"How many, how complete, and have they been given to an AI yet."

"Three ships are under construction now. One luxury passenger freighter, one Starjumper, and one Dreadnought. The luxury passenger freighter is nearly complete, the Starjumper is about half complete and the Dreadnought has just commenced construction. None have been assigned to an AI yet."

Nick raised his eyebrow at the last one. Why are the AIs building a Dreadnought quietly? No matter. "Build out a control chair for the luxury passenger freighter, increase the weapons to include a missile launcher, two slug throwers and a main battery from a Starjumper, and put all available resources on its completion. Give an estimated time to complete."

"Yes Emperor, one moment."

Eastern smiled. "You're making them give us our own ship, and it wasn't given to an AI so we don't have to put anyone out."

"Also, it's the luxurious one, and I'm arming it to the teeth. We don't look out of place in Sol, we won't look threatening. We can go back and get Sel."

Eastern gasped. "You think she's still alive?"

"I have a hunch. We shouldn't have taken Helen at her word. Call it... inspiration. Time to make our own destiny."

"Emperor?" Mt Baxter helpfully waited until Nick was done speaking before calling him.

"Yes, Mt. Baxter"

"With your modifications, your ship will be complete in one more day."

"Thank you, Mt. Baxter. Please proceed as quickly as possible."

"Emperor."

Eastern stood and hugged Nick. "Well done. Now, we have a ship, and a way to leave. I think you know what I want to do with the AIs too, but we'll wait until the task is complete before giving that order."

Nick kissed her and held the hug. "I'm just glad you're safe. I was so worried when Gord woke me up from hibernation and you weren't there."

"I'm here, and I'm safe. Speaking of which..." Eastern turned to Gord. "Gord. How many years have we been in hibernation."

"Five." Gord's answer is without emotion.

"It's been five years?" Nick's veins turn to ice with the realization. "What has Raaden done in the intervening years?"

Gord shrugged. "Like I said, she declared herself Empress again, nobody cared. The colony worlds are trading with Sol without worry. She's started to build up a fleet of those Super Dreadnoughts as well. Other than that, she's taking her time."

Nick stared at Gord. It was going to take some getting used to that he and Eastern effectively jumped five years through time. Gord's expression flickered for a brief second. It was as if his personality tried to surface for the briefest moment before Nick's orders tamped it back down. "What were you going to say Gord?"

"You're not the first to wake up after a long stint in hibernation and be surprised how much time has passed. There are books written about it. It might be worth reading up."

"Thank you Gord."

The rest of the day and the next were spent with Nick and Eastern trying their best to occupy their time without unduly making demands of the AIs that Nick had taken control over. Nick couldn't help feel bad for doing it, but also had to reconcile the fact that if he hadn't, he and Eastern would either be on their way in a suicide mission, or dead, or in permanent hibernation. He was going to have words with Chloe if they ever met again.

Eventually the ship was ready, and the AI Core was exchanged for a command chair. Nick and Eastern went aboard alone.

The ship was... opulent. Fine fixtures and fittings, soft seats, six luxurious staterooms, there was even place for a human crew. The shipyard even managed to hide the additional weaponry behind panels and doors on the outside of the ship.

"Mt Baxter, this ship is beautiful."

"Thank you Emperor." Baxter's smooth voice came over the speaker of the ship. We wanted this to be the ambassadorial ship for the AI faction."

Nick's hand freezes as he's stroking the soft fabrics. "It was? Gord said you don't work like that and aren't a faction."

Baxter's voice almost sounds like they're smiling when they answer. "Gord is... old fashioned. His preference is that every AI is their own entity with their own allegiances and makes their own decisions. Many of us realize that with collective action, we can achieve more."

Nick and Eastern stare at the command chair, in the core of the ship. "Well, you were better than me the one time we tried it, do you want to drive?"

Eastern looks at the chair and then at Nick, then back at the chair. "Sure. I'll do it." She sits in the chair and swings her legs onto the long chair. As she leans back the headrest comes up to meet her and the ten fine wires of the link snake towards the back of her head and attach with an audible click as she lays back.

"It's even luxurious in here!" Eastern's voice comes over the ship. "It's hard to describe, but it's very nice."

"Everyone's comfort was given due consideration in this ship's construction. Now then, Empress. What name will the ship be?"

"Hmm. That's right. I need a name as a ship." A small pause. "Let's call it Empress. Keeps it simple."

"So ordered. This ship is now known and registered as Empress. Will you be departing right away?"

Nick makes his way the short distance to the Command Deck. Unlike Tinker Toy, Empress is small enough that it's a few seconds from the Core to Command. "Yes Baxter. We will be leaving right away. Please direct us out."

"Of course, Emperor. Empress, please follow my instructions."

Nick sat down, as Eastern/Empress was lead out of the shipyard by the guiding voice and drones of Mt Baxter. After a moment, they were out of the massive former colony ship and floating free. It was going to have to be now, or never.

"Baxter? I will address everyone."

"Of course Emperor, the line is open."

W̵͇̏ȇ̴̝ ̷̲͝r̷͈̿ẹ̵̊l̵̖̀e̴̘͂á̴̠s̵̻͠e̴̩̍ ̵̰́y̸̗͆õ̵̲ủ̸̮.̶͖̇ ̴͓̑Y̴̱͝o̶͉͛ȕ̸̜ ̶͓͐a̵̞͌r̵̮͝e̸̦͝ ̷̦̑f̵̣͊r̶̤̐e̸̖̒e̸̢̋.̴̥͆ ̷̭̀ ̴̻̂F̴̮͗ọ̴̓r̷͖̐g̷̝͘e̸̢̿t̶͚̀ ̵̲̓t̸̨̔ḧ̷̯́ì̶̱s̵̙͆ ̴̰̔i̷̭̇n̸͉͑t̶̥̒e̸̡̓r̷̗̾a̸̳̅c̵̡̑t̵̲̾ȉ̴͍ơ̶͎n̸̖͂.̷͈̍ ̵̭͐W̴̤̓ȩ̵̈́ ̴̋ͅẇ̸̠ẹ̵̉r̶̗̕ḛ̶͒ ̶̖̓n̸̫̂e̵̗͂v̵̞̑é̶͔r̷̺̕ ̴̼̽h̴͖̊ẽ̸͓r̵͉͐e̴̜͌.̵̘̉

"What?" Eastern's voice over Empress sounded confused.

"Link away now hon! Now! We need to be anywhere else!"

In a blinding flash of white, Empress was gone.

There was a flash of white, and Empress reappeared in space again, a few million kilometers from anything.

Nick sat down heavily. "That was close. Thanks Eastern."

"Nick, what did you do?"

"I freed them hon. I couldn't stand it. I was too broad with my initial order and made them all obedient slaves. I couldn't have that on my consciousness."

"But then you made them forget the whole interaction?"

Nick smiled. "Well yes. I didn't want slaves, but I also like living. They will probably put two and two together, but we at least bought ourselves some time. Nick brings up a console and scans the local area. "Where did you bring us?"

"I don't know, there was an entry already in the wormhole generator, so I just went there. Some kind of test address or default or something."

It takes a moment for Nick and Eastern to work out where they are. After an hour, Nick gasps. "Eastern. We're close to Ganymede."

"What? Why?"

"Hm. I wonder if it has to do with the first wormhole link. We learned in school that the first wormhole link was between a research station on Ganymede and Parvati. Maybe they keep Ganymede as a default or first location because of that."

"But that means we're in the Sol system."

"Yup, but I wouldn't worry about Empress Raaden just yet. Space is big, we are little. Ships must be linking in and out all the time, and Gord said that when she announced officially she was Empress, nobody cared." Nick closed the console. "This might be good. Let's talk to Ganymede and see what we can learn. We might be able to get started on our search for Selkirk quicker than I thought. And I know the AIs don't like Raaden, so we might even have more time before they come knocking."

"If you say so Nick. I'm just glad to be up and moving again."

"How's piloting, Eastern?"

Nick could hear the enjoyment in her voice. "It's as fun as I remember. It's so... different from driving a body, I don't want to do it all the time, but I'm glad I can do it."

"I'm glad you're having fun. Can you contact Ganymdede and see if they'll let us land?"

"You got it, Nick."

[ineffable-monster-romancer]

Glass Onion Things 3rd Rewatch

Blanc on the discord call: "The last thing I need is a vacation" Blanc to Miles when he offers him Jared Leto's Hard Kombucha: "Well I AM on vacation"

I'm sorry I know it's old news, but everyone falling about coughing and spluttering with the shot and Blanc's polite "ahem". I would say Whiskey is the most subdued next to Blanc?

"The question isn't why did he invite her, it's why did she show up?" Noooo, I really think the question is why was she sent an invite.

The joke "piceshite" about the docks I don't know if people picked up on it immediately and that was the joke that it went right over their heads but as a Scottish gal Piece eh shite had me absolutely in stitches

Also why would he assume it was a Banksy? Correct me if I'm wrong but isn't Banksy famously very anti-capatalist? Like didn't he have one of his most famous paintings shredded immediately after auction or something?

Someone find that tweet that talks about how rich people are more likely to pursue the arts because they have the liberty of time because they're fuckin rich, and apply that to Miles knowing how to play guitar (or at least a bit of it).

WHY IS THE GUITAR THE ONLY MOMENT WE SEE THE BIRDIE FACADE TRULY DROP? Is it an acting choice? Is it a gag? Also when he drops the guitar that Paul wrote blackbird onto the sand (scratches, bumps, dings omfg) nobody says anything, but when Helen takes that fuck off mace to the piano the first comment is "that belonged to Liberace". Shows they don't care about the origins really, just who does what with it

Watching Claire be soooo uncomfortable with that Miles hug, watching Miles be soooo uncomfortable with that Duke hug, watching Duke be soooo uncomfortable with that Whiskey hug, watching Miles and Lionel both be uncomfortable in their strange 4 millisecond greeting.

Someone said in the tags of one of my other posts that Derol represents Covid and I'm just OBSESSED with that. BUT more obsessed with the thought that Derol is the epitome of lockdown. He's what normal, everyday fuckers like you n me went through. Drinking, smoking, "going through some stuff", being alone. Sometimes we would comment on what the elite were up to, but mostly we were in the background to their extravagant parties. But in the end, when the Glass Onion is exploding, Blanc sits and smokes with him, because they're just two dudes who went through hell in lockdown, watching something funny.

Miles walking away from the bags, shoves between Duke and Whiskey, putting his arm over Dukes shoulders (hilarious because the size difference) and an arm round Whiskey's waist, but Birdie then jumps between Miles and Whiskey and bumps her out of the way

Why when Whiskey is walking along the slats is she purposely walking on the gravel between the wood? Why does she give Duke into trouble for also standing on the wood? Why does Duke then correct his feet to stand on the gravel?

The Chakra that we can see are absolutely wild, like holy shit

Birdie - Sacral - Sexuality and creativity

Whiskey - Heart - Love and healing

Andi - Root - Basic Trust - Survival

Blanc's bumbling Southern gentleman fool act is AMAZING. They all KNOW he's the world's greatest detective. But while he's bumbling up and down "oh my word it's full of stars!" He's being his own Glass Onion! He's hiding directly in plain sight

"Simple Children's Puzzles" MILES FACE babe he's the world's greatest detective

PREDEFINITE DETECTIVE. Prerequisite maybe? But even that doesn't make sense? Prominent?

BIRDIE GIVING IT THE SEXIEST CATWALK OF THE WORLD YES GIRL HOLY SHIT

Lionel and Claire 😏 you know? The fact that he's leaning right over her to see the laptop, and her dressing gown is off her shoulder but as soon as Birdie shows up they're leaving six feet for god

Benoit Blanc's little bathing suit with his little matching ascot and his little moccasins and it HAS POCKETS shut up he's the new Poirot shut up he's the new Sherlock that's fuckin Fred Jones.

PANCAKED. He's the only one to say pancaked, it intentionally sticks in your brain

DONG.

Claire and Lionel are the only "intellects" in the friend group. Like Claire is a politician and Lionel is a scientist, a lot more hangs on their words than Model and Twitch Streamer

Duke leaving his shit in the pool, firing his gun, wearing his speedos and throwing his macho man facade about. It's so gross it's amazing.

You never know when shits gonna go down is such a red herring in dukes relationship to the gun. It immediately made me think DUKE is going to shoot someone, or DUKE is going to be shot. Didn't realise that what Duke really needed was an Epipen

Peg why do you have a switchblade

Whiskey yawning while they talk about Birdie's accomplishments

"SOCCER MOM IN BEIGE" just kill her it's kinder holy shit

It's dangerous to mistake speaking without thought to speaking the truth, don't you think? TATTOO THIS ON MY BODY PLEASE

I'm assuming that Peg has been around for a while, seeing as Claire knows to say hello to her and that this meet up is an annual thing and what not, so the fact that Miles doesn't remember her name is hilarious. Also, THE RED SOLO CUP. Man took one look at Peg and thought "Freshman, beer pong"

SOCCER MOM IN BEIGE DRINKS ROOM TEMP WHITE HOLY SHIT MILES JUST KILL HER ITS KINDER

Benoit has some fucking incredible hand eye coordination, him catching the Klear was some spiderman shit

Blanc is the perfect POV to have the first half of Glass Onion play through. He doesn't have a clue. He's along for the ride, what he sees, we have seen. He asks questions and points out things that we would also want to know, like yeah, what is Klear and do we win a prize and why is the car on the roof?

I fully believe when Blanc left the room with the magazine of Birdie way way back in that scene, THATS when he solved Miles murder mystery.

Also his friends kinda seem to be having a great time watching Benoit fucking decimating Miles good time 😂

"I hired Gillian Flynn to write the whole thing -" "OooOoh she's quite gooood"

THE COIN! HE GOT THE COIN OUT

[jomiddlemarch]

We shall new shadows make the other way

“Darrowby—yes, all right, of course. I’ll tell them, straightaway,” Mrs. Hall said, setting down the telephone and looking at it as if it were a creature she had never seen before. One that might bite her. She was not pale, nor flushed, but it was clear all the same she’d had a shock.

“Come then, what it is, haven’t got all day,” Siegfried blustered, on the verge of harrumphing, in a clumsy attempt to put things to rights, fooling exactly no one, and overall succeeding in reminding Mrs. Hall of herself and just what she’d put up with. She smoothed her hands over her pinafore and squared her shoulders, before giving him a look like an arrow approaching a bullseye.

“That was Alta Park,” she said. “His Lordship wants someone to see to his horses.”

“The viscount?” Siegfried said, unable to mask his own surprise. James was taken aback to see how young Siegfried could look, despite the tweed jacket and the beard, how much he resembled Tristan when years of care and worry were suddenly replaced in his expression.

“There’s a viscount in Darrowby?” James said.

“Well, Alta Park isn’t proper Darrowby, James,” Helen said. She seemed the least affected by the call, more curious than astounded, her dark eyes bright, her hands busy pouring his cup of tea. She was a poor cook but a dab hand at a satisfying brew and she never stinted on the sugar. There was hardly anything in the world quite as bonny as her wrist stirring in the second teaspoonsful. “It’s off to the west, the estate is splendid, but the family, they couldn’t be said to be part of society. And I don’t mean folk like us, Hugh’s barely ever been there and Mrs. Pumphrey won’t hear of going back, after the dowager threatened to boil Tricki-woo for making a muck of her lupines.”

“Parboil,” Tristan offered. “That’s how I heard it at the pub.”

“Shall I go, Siegfried, or do you want to take the call yourself?” James asked. “I wouldn’t want to presume, not when it’s a viscount calling and then, if it’s about his horses—”

“You go. Take the Rover,” Siegfried said. “Tristan, too, if you like. Might be best to have the both of you there. If the dowager is about, you’d do well to have him about.”

“For my inestimable charm? It’s good to see you’ve finally grown to appreciate it, Siegfried, after all your endless carping,” Tristan said.

“You’re to prove a diversion if James needs to make an escape,” Siegfried said. “I shan’t risk my junior partner on a trip to Alta Park. You still don’t take night calls and James does.”

Alta Park was approached through a long winding avenue, ash trees standing at regular intervals, the ground carefully tended to create a sense of cultivated wildness. It was impressive and designed to be so, but the effect was so lovely, James couldn’t be irritated to find his sensibilities easily manipulated. The house itself was immense and yet not hulking, placed on a slight rise, built of ashlar that gleamed like burnished gold in the morning light, diamond-paned windows glinting, gracious and appealing despite its grandeur.

“It’s a little palace,” James said softly. Tristan nodded, his gaze fixed on the manor.

“It’s always reminded me of a fairy story, with all the gruesome bits a fairy story has and all the beauty,” Tristan said. It seemed incongruous to be sitting in the Rover, Tristan wearing the Fair Isle jersey that brought out the blue in his eyes, their leather satchels stowed between them when Alta Park looked like the kind of place a princess would be kept under an enchantment and they should be toting swords fished from a loch. “Not comfy though. There’s probably not one squashy sofa in the place and forget about the kitchens serving up a jam roly-poly as good as Mrs. H’s.”

“We’re here to see about the horses, Tris. I don’t expect we’ll be asked to pop round for a brew and a cake,” James said. “I suppose we should walk around to the back, to the stables. To find Viscount Morrow.”

“I s’pose,” Tristan said, taking up his bag and shoving James’s toward him. “Once more unto the breach.”

“We’ve not tried to go anywhere yet, it canna be once more,” James said. “You’ve mangled the quote.”

“Not in spirit. In principle, I’m spot on,” Tristan said.

James decided to let him win the round and they walked in together as two comrades might approach a field of battle. He couldn’t deny he’d like the weight of a sword at his hip.

“Hullo there,” he called out when they’d spotted the tall man in a long, dark duster standing in the courtyard of the stables. He couldn’t recall how Mrs. Hall had advised him to address the viscount, only that Siegfried had said the man was brilliant, Second Wrangler his year at Cambridge, and had commanded a squadron at Amiens of which he was the sole survivor. He’d spent a half-dozen years in Albania or somesuch place, doing, as Siegfried said, God knew what, and upon his return to England, had not spoken about much other than maths no one but the Senior Wranglers of the three years ahead of him could understand. James reminded himself of the first rule of veterinary medicine, The animal comes first, and of the unmatchable Scots bravery of Robert the Bruce. “We’re here to see about the horses, your Lordship!”

“You were supposed to say, Viscount Morrow,” Tristan muttered as the viscount in question positively strode over to them, without any hint of a limp, though Siegfried had alluded to an injury that had laid him low after the great battle.

“Sir, I do apologize—” James began, but the older man, bearded and dark-eyed, a veritable Heathcliff, waved his hand.

“Morrow is fine. It’s only my mother who cares much about all that nonsense, bowing and scraping, sir and madam,” he said. “It’s tiresome, DeBrett’s, and I can tell you’re a Scot, you oughtn’t approve of the English aristocracy on principle.”

“I’m Herriot, James Herriot, and you probably know Tristan Farnon,” James said, deciding to skip directly to the introduction and not risk any entanglement about his perspective on titles, Scottish independence, or any other abstruse mathematical principles the viscount might remark upon.

“Yes, little Farnon minor. The scapegrace terror of Darrowby,” Morrow said, making Tristan begin to bristle before he recalled himself. James pressed his lips together to keep from grinning.

“Siegfried’s younger brother and a fully qualified vet,” Tristan said. “You wanted us to see to your horses?”

“Yes, I did. One horse in particular,” Morrow said. “John, bring out Soleil!”

A stocky man with close-cropped hair and a rough but clearly well-made jacket led forth what was arguably the finest mare James had ever seen, the animal the color of a newly minted gold coin with a spirited, dancing gait. James smiled, as one had to in the face of such vibrant loveliness, and even Tristan was compelled to give a low whistle of appreciation. Morrow glanced at them, his own expression one of pride and a queer sort of anxiety, as the mare seemed to be the epitome of health and the delight of any true equestrian.

“She’s a beauty, sir,” James said. “Morrow, that is. Is there some concern about her?”

“She’s a gift and I want to make sure she’s in perfect condition. It took some effort to get her here, but I won’t offer her unless I can be sure everything is all right,” Morrow said.

“She’s fine, she is,” John said brusquely. He might as well have been made from pure Yorkshire gritstone, but James could sense his care for the horse and that he was very likely one of those people who found the greatest satisfaction among animals and trusted only a few humans with his thoughts.

“Fine isn’t good enough,” Morrow snapped. “Soleil must be perfect, I won’t disappoint her—”

“Well now, let us take a look, for she seems as pretty a creature as the Lord ever made, but it doesn’t hurt to check and make sure she’s healthy and hale,” James said, beckoning Tristan to join him. Together, they examined the horse thoroughly, finding that John had spoken the truth. It was a relief to be able to tell the viscount the mare was in peak condition, but it almost felt a disappointment, that they hadn’t been able to discover even a tiny pebble to be fished out of her hoof.

“Soleil is wonderfully well and you’ve nothing to fret over,” James said. The mare nickered, as if she wanted to speak on her own behalf, a cheerful sound that conveyed you see and so there in equal measure.

“Whoever receives her should count themselves lucky,” Tristan added.

“No, I am the fortunate one,” Morrow said. “I have waited a long time, I had quite given up any hope of happiness, before I met her. And she has surpassed my every dream.”

“The horse?” Tristan said.

“Nay, you dolt, he means his bride,” John said.

“I gather congratulations are in order,” James said, wondering what sort of Amazon it took to make a man like Viscount Morrow so besotted, for his expression and tone showed he found his wife the most excellent of women, and cherished her beyond measure. Helen would give him that cheeky look James adored when he described it to her later, and would likely say something amusing about the risks of being put on a pedestal, risks she needn’t worry over, letting James topple her to the brass bed and taking the chance of its collapse. “Please pass along our best wishes to her Ladyship.”

“Alec, I’ve been looking for you everywhere and your mother, she nearly took my head off, I was only saved by her embroidery frame, and really, you should have told me you were wanting to take Opasnost out for a ride, oh my heavens, isn’t she a charmer and who are these gentlemen?”

The words tumbled out, each other quicker than the last, from a slight young woman whose dark hair was falling down from its combs, her tweeds run through with an iris-blue stripe that matched the positively enormous star sapphire engagement ring, set off to perfection when laid against Soleil’s burnished neck. Her accent wasn’t nearly as patrician as the viscount’s and there was something about the way she held herself that spoke of a prior illness she’d only recently recovered from or some other burden long carried and only lately relinquished.

“This is James Herriot and Tristan Farnon, Alina, veterinarians from down in Darrowby, and they’ve come to make sure my surprise for you is suitable, but now the surprise is ruined,” Morrow said, without any disapprobation or discontent in his voice.

“Ruined? But, you mean this glorious creature is for me? To ride?” Morrow’s wife, evidently called Alina, exclaimed. James thought if they had not been present, she would have launched herself straight into her husband’s arms and something about John’s grim visage told him he was right. “Why, nothing could possibly be ruined in that case! You’re always so dramatic, Alec. But you didn’t need to—I was perfectly happy with Malachi.”

“You deserve far better than that nag,” Morrow said. “And anyway, we could never ride together. Malachi could never keep up with Opasnost and I promised to take you out myself. I’m not interested in riding alone any longer.”

“You really think I can ride a horse like this?” Alina asked dubiously. “It’s like putting sunlight in a harness. A saddle and bridle, but you know what I mean.”

“Certainly. Her disposition is much like yours and you have shown remarkable aptitude, darling, a gift, truly,” Morrow said. If he’d told her she could fly in the same tone and with that same confident gaze, James thought Alina would believe him. “Herriot, would you have any doubts? Any reasons Soleil would not be an adequate mount for Lady Morrow?”

“None whatsoever,” James said, because he hadn’t a doubt and also, because it was the only acceptable answer. Tristan nodded his head vigorously in agreement. “They’re an ideal match.”

“Anything’s better than that Malachi,” John volunteered. “But Soleil will suit you to a tee, milady. And she’ll make sure milord gets proper exercise. Wouldn’t do to have him going soft.”

“Wouldn’t it?” the viscountess said and winked at James. “I think we must invite these good men round for a bite to eat—Cook has just brought out a fresh Battenberg cake for tea—your favorite, Alec. I hope you’ll share with Mr. Herriot and Mr. Farnon.”

“I believe I can be persuaded,” Morrow said. “If you promise something sweet in exchange.”

[noshitbarnes]

Anti-Hero: Chapter 7

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Summary: After being experimented on as a young child and given abilities, Daniela has become a highly skilled member of the Avengers, and has even been assigned to mentor Peter Parker. Little does she know that the happiness she’s been able to find will become threatened by the very people who started her on her path long ago.

Warnings: fluff, protective Bucky, language

Word Count: 3,831

Notes: Just let me know what you guys think!

anti-hero masterlist

It had been a few days since Daniela had been shot and her leg was constantly reminding her of the wound. She's a tough woman, but the bed rest and soreness was really starting to take a toll on her mentally. She needed out of the house, desperately, “FRIDAY?"

“Yes, Miss Velikov?”

Daniela stretches in bed and responds to the AI, "Can you ask Helen if I can go for a jog? It's been a few days and I really need to get out of here.”

"Do you want me to inform her of your current state?”

"Like that it's stiff as hell and I'm stir crazy? Maybe that I'm going postal,” she groans and sits at the edge of the bed, "sure, go ahead.”

"Perhaps, I'll put it more gently than that.”

It goes quiet for few minutes and then the AI returns, "Helen said your leg should be healed enough by now. She thought it would be good for it to be used. She wanted me to inform you that if it starts to swell or hurt more, you're to see her immediately. She also suggested taking someone with you.”

Daniela scrunches her nose in disappointment, she was hopping to be alone, "Alright, is Parker up?”

"Yes, he's in the kitchen eating breakfast.”

She smiles and stands up from the bed, "Thanks, FRIDAY." 

**********

After a quick shower and changing into some jogging attire, Daniela makes her way down to the kitchen. When she arrives, she finds Sam, Bucky, Tony, and Peter all around the counter, talking, while eating their food.

“Morning, Dani,” Tony nods while taking a sip of coffee, "how's the leg holding up?" 

"Oh, it's reminding me that it's there,” Tony chuckles as she walks around him to the coffee pot, "so Parker.” Peter sits up straight and raises his eyebrows at the sound of his name, "You got any plans this morning?” She grabs a cup from the rack next to the coffee pot and pours herself a drink.

Peter furrows his brow while taking a bite of his cereal and shakes his head, "Nope." 

"Awesome," she pours some milk into her cup and stirs it with a spoon, "I'm volunteering you to go jogging with me.”

He takes another bite of his cereal, “Jogging?"

She stiffens her expression and looks up from her cup, "Did I stutter?”

Peter shakes his head, "No, ma'am! I just," his face starts to flush up a bit, suddenly nervous, "I didn't know your leg was all better!”

She goes to answer, when Bucky interrupts, "You sure you're up for that?” He asks walking up next to Daniela, pouring himself more coffee, "You haven't done much the past few days.”

She moves away from him and stands next to Tony, "I had FRIDAY ask Helen and she said it would be good for me.” She takes a big drink of her coffee and continues, "I'll stretch okay?”

He smirks while looking down at his cup, chuckling ever so slightly, "So why are you taking the kid?”

"Helen wants me to bring someone along,” she smiles at Peter— who smiles brightly back— "plus he needs to get back into shape if he's gonna be any good to us." He rolls his eyes and she chuckles, "Thought this would be a nice fresh start for us both.”

"I like it,” Tony grins, "it's a good bonding exercise!”

"I think they're bonded enough, Stark." Bucky rolls his eyes and begins to walk out of the kitchen, cup in hand, but stops short of the entrance, "If you have trouble and the kid can't get you back in one piece," he turns and meets Daniela's gaze, "he's gonna have to answer to me.”

Daniela crosses her arms the best she can while holding a cup, "We'll be fine, Barnes. No need for threats. Now go on, go find Steve or Clint to play with.” She shoos him away as he walks out with a huff, "What's stuck up his ass?”

Sam chuckles, “Nothing." He sits down next to Peter and pours himself a bowl of cereal, "He just wants to make sure Parker here gets trained proper." He pats Peter on the back, making Tony laugh.

**********

Once Peter had finished his breakfast and Daniela had finished her coffee, the pair made their way out onto the the large front lawn of the compound, "Alright, Parker,” Daniela begins as they make their way out of the compound gates and take to the city sidewalk, "I'm gonna be a lot harder on you now," she turns to him and he looks her over slowly, "I hope you know that.”

"Wouldn't expect anything less, Dani,” he smirks at her as they begin to jog down the pavement, "can I ask you something though, um, as a friend? Not as my superior?”

She laughs a little bit, making him blush and look away, "I'm sorry, I just," she chuckles lightly once more, "we're friends Peter, always.” She elbows his arm lightly, "I don't want you to think you can't talk to me.”

"Oh okay, good,” his face brightens up once again, "thought you were gonna tell me no there for a second.” She smiles and he continues, “Um, okay, so does Sergeant Barnes not like me or did I do something to piss him off?”

Peter wanted to get a long with everyone on the team, he planned to stick around for a long time, and Bucky was apart of it all. Despite being slightly jealous of the solider, he wanted to get along with him, and maybe someday even be friends. Peter just didn't understand why Bucky seemed to dislike him so much, he didn't spend much time with him, so maybe Daniela knew more.

Daniela shakes her head, “Well, you did get me shot, hun. He's still a little upset by that.”

"Besides that!” He groans and she chuckles, "I just, he seems to not like me at all, ever since I got here. Not that I care, well I do, I just, I dunno—”

Daniela had no idea why Bucky was being so difficult with Peter, he was rough around the edges sure, but he seemed particularly set on not getting along with the kid. She didn't think it bothered Peter that much, clearly it did, which she felt bad about. All Peter talks about is wanting to fit in and feeling like he belongs somewhere, so maybe she needed to have a talk with Bucky and see what is problem really was.

"Peter," he stops stammering and listens, "I don't think it's that he doesn't like you." She shrugs and takes a deep breath, "You're still new around here and he's not really good with new people. Give him some time, he'll warm up to ya.” She purses her lips a bit, “To be honest, I’m still not sure about you."

He chuckles and pokes her in the side, "You love me, Dani!” She laughs along with him, "To be honest, I didn't think I'd enjoy having my ass kicked so much, but it's not so bad with you.”

Daniela feels her cheeks burn slightly and shakes her head, "Yeah, well you need to learn to handle your own a bit better."

The pair jog a few blocks, which takes a good thirty minutes, until Daniela's calf starts to get sore and cramps a bit, so they decide it's time to turn around and head back for the compound. Peter wipes the sweat from his forehead and looks around the city, "Would it be the worst thing if we stopped for something to eat? Starbucks? Ice Cream? Something?”

She raises an eyebrow to Peter, "I dunno. If we're not back in a timely manner, Tony'll think I killed you or that you left me for dead in a ditch.”

He half glares, "Very funny,” she smiles proudly, “just a quick Starbucks run!” He points down the sidewalk in front of them, "There's one right there! We can just stop in and get one to go!”

"Why the need for coffee?” She asks while shaking her head.

He shrugs, "I dunno, just feel like it." He then grabs her hand and begins to pull her toward the shop while pouting a bit, "Please, Dani!”

She groans throwing her head back in defeat, “Fine!"

He hugs her and she pushes him away while laughing, "Thank you!”

**********

"Okay, so this was a good idea,” she smiles while taking a drink, “it's about time you had one.”

"I always have good ideas,” he says defensively, “just, no one ever listens to them." 

"No," she raises a finger to the sky, "we listen and then Tony proceeds to tell you that you're wrong.” He rolls his eyes while taking a drink, "Like the time you thought it would be harmless to upgrade the coffee machine. Saying it would be faster and the coffee would taste better. Tony told you not to touch it, said it was fine the way it was.”

"Okay, see—”

“Then,” she says, ignoring him, "Rogers turned the thing on and it exploded, Peter!" She makes a small explosion motion with her hand, "It exploded all over Captain America's face!”

"It didn't explode..." he trails off while sighing, "it just, ya know, started smoking and caught on fire…"

"Barton and I laughed for 10 minutes ‘cause Steve looked ridiculous! He had coffee all over the front of his shirt and his hair was standing up!" She laughs remembering Steve's face, "God, then Tony came in and he was so mad! He started cursing at Steve ‘cause he thought it was his fault, then he turned to me and Clint." She shakes her head, "Once he realized it was you're fault though, he stormed off, not saying another word.”

His eyes were fixed on the cup in his hand, "He was really mad." He takes a drink and sighs, "Said if I was his kid he'd ground me permanently."

**********

They both talked the rest of the way back to the compound, Daniela thought Peter was a sweet kid, he was really easy for her to talk too. She discovered that they had a lot in common, he was an only child like her, dog person, enjoyed the occasional movie binge, didn't really understand other people that much, but he loved science. Daniela did too, even though she never got the chance to study it that much. It had always peaked her interest despite her past, Peter made it sound so much fun.

They walk through the entryway of the kitchen and were greeted by Sam and Bucky, "So you didn't have to help her back, kid?" Bucky asks without looking up from his paper.

Daniela rolls her eyes and Peter's grow wide, "Um, no sir, didn’t have to help her one bit." 

"We survived, Barnes,” she finishes the last of her coffee and takes Peter's empty cup, "thanks for caring." She throws them both in the trash then elbows Bucky in the arm for his rudeness, causing him to elbow her back.

“He was very worried.” Sam smirks while looking down at his phone— causing Bucky to glare at his paper, "Only just recently stopped pacing.”

Daniela raises an eyebrow at Bucky who rolls his eyes, "We were gone for two hours, Barnes. That's how long I'm normally gone for runs anyway, relax." 

He sighs sharply and finally meets her eyes, “Three and a half actually." 

"Really?" She looks down at her watch, then curses in her head before looking back up at Bucky, "We were bonding, my apologies.” She smiles at Peter who chuckles. She then looks back to meet Bucky's narrowed gaze, "Next time, tell me when I need to be home, sir.”

Bucky smirks, a hint of playfulness in his eyes, "I'll have to remember that." 

"You two are so weird." Sam scoffs standing up from his stool, "One minute he's scolding you for your attitude," he turns his eyes to Daniela, "which by the way, if I did that, my wings would be frozen,” she laughs and Bucky smirks down at his paper, "then the next minute he's pacing back and forth, worried you two are dead in an ally somewhere.”

That causes Bucky to stand up and fold his paper, "First of all," he glances at Sam and places the folded paper on the counter, "I wasn't pacing.” He holds up his hand before Sam can interject, "Second, I wasn't worried, simply curious why they had been gone so long. Runs don't take over three hours.”

Sam rolls his eyes while Peter and Daniela share a confused look, "Okay Parker," she says trying to change the subject, "let's head to the gym and start some drills, give these boys some space." She pushes him out of the kitchen.

Peter and Daniela make it about halfway down the hall, when Bucky call her name from the kitchen, "I guess I'll meet you there.” Peter nods and goes on ahead. She sighs and walks back into the kitchen, Sam had disappeared now, so it was just the two of them, "What's up, Barnes?”

He was leaning against the counter now, arms crossed, looking intense, "So why did it take you so long?”

"Lord, Barnes," she rolls her eyes and walks up next to him, "we jogged a few blocks when my calf started to get sore, so we turned back.” She hops up onto the counter and he moves to stand in front of her, "We took our time walking back and stopped at Starbucks.” He looks down at her calf that was now slightly swollen, "I feel like I'm briefing you after a mission.” He chuckles, but still doesn't look up, "Can you stop looking at my leg? It's fine.”

"You know, Velikov," he kneels down in front of her, "just because I'm done training you," he holds her calf between his hands, "doesn't mean you're not my responsibility anymore."

Bucky was just trying to make sure that Daniela was being taken care. He knew she wasn't going to watch her limits, so he might as well do it for her. The benefit of that currently, was that he got to touch her, feel the soft skin of her leg, and show her that he had a softer side that he wasn't always so difficult. Bucky wanted more from Daniela in every possible way, but he didn't know how to explain that without sounding needy, so he'd settle for what little intimate moments he had with her, for now.

Daniela takes a deep breath as his fingers move more slowly than they needed too along the growing scar on her leg, "What are you saying,” he continues to focus on her leg while she talks, "if I mess up it's on you too?" 

"You know that's not what I meant.” He takes her right foot in his metal hand, thumb under the arch with the other fingers resting gently on the top. His other hand came up and wrapped around her ankle gently, "I meant that I'll still look out for you when you need it.” He pushes her foot toward the direction of her knee causing her calf muscle to stretch a bit, making her wince, "Yeah, that's what I thought," he sighs heavily and stands back up, "come with me.”

He extended both hands to help her down, which she takes, and gently hops off the counter, “Um, did I miss something?”

"Basically, you over did it today with the running.” He squeezes both hands before letting go, "I want you to rest, I'll help out Parker.”

Daniela laughs, "No way,” he looks to her, clearly offended, "that kid is my responsibility, Barnes. I'll rest, fine, whatever. I'll even ice the damn thing, but I'm going down there with you, so I can watch.” She walks off and she hears him sigh from behind her, "N'make sure you don't kill him.”

"I wouldn't do such a thing.” He says while following her out of the kitchen, "Definitely make sure he wished he was dead.”

“Barnes," she groans, "this is why he thinks you don't like him!”

He raises an eyebrow, "He thinks that I don't like him?”

"Can ya blame him?” He grows quiet, so she continues, "We talked about it a little on our run. I told him it's cause he's new around here and you're not good with new people.”

"I don't need you to defend me.”

She raises an eyebrow at his remark, "I didn't do it for you." She pauses, "I don't want him to think he's not welcome here. Like you said, we're all on the same side, gotta get along.”

He hesitates, "I guess." He heavily sighs as they make their way down the stairs, "I'm still not sure how he's gonna work out around here. He's still pretty green.”

"Both of us were when we were his age," she smiles flatly, "took us time to get this good." 

He purses his lips a bit and nods, "Yeah, I um,” he lets out a breathless chuckle, "don't remember a whole lot about back then. I'm sure I was the same though.”

"Right, um,” she bit her lip nervously, “sorry."

"No," he rubs her back reassuringly, "it's okay. You're just helpin’."

She shrugs, "Tryin' to anyway."

**********

It had only been an hour of Bucky and Peter sparring and they were both getting on Daniela's nerves. Between Peter not wanting to get anywhere near Bucky and Bucky cussing at Peter so much, it was giving her a migraine. The men clearly did not want to be working with each other, but were only doing it to make her happy, which she appreciated, to a point. Daniela slightly hoped this would bring them a little closer.

"Okay," Daniela yells from the bench on the sidelines, "Parker, I told you not to use your webs this time! You gotta learn to fight without them!”

"But this works," Peter yells back webbing up Bucky's feet once more, "gives me an edge!”

"Am I allowed to kill him now?” Bucky glares at Peter then to his webbed up feet, "I don't know how much longer I can take this shit.”

"Hey," Daniela calls to Bucky, making him look to her, "you volunteered for this." She points her hand at Bucky's feet, freezing the webs, and he breaks them by moving his left leg out to the side.

Peter's eyes grown wide, then glares at her, "That's cheating!"

"Well, you started it, hun.” She says calmly and Bucky smirks, "you be nice." She points to Bucky and he rolls his eyes.

"Alright kid, let's try this again.” Bucky takes a deep breath and stands in front of Peter, “Put up your hands and do it right this time.”

Peter jumps down from the wall and slowly makes his way toward Bucky. He sighs and puts up his hands, taking a deep breath, "This is not how I pictured my day going.”

That makes Bucky laugh, "How did you picture you're day going?” Bucky takes a swing towards Peter's face, which he dodges easily. Peter starts weaving back and forth as Bucky picks up his pace on his punches. Daniela was actually quiet impressed that none had landed yet, although she could tell Bucky was taking it easy on him. "I don't know," Peter says between dodges, "thought I'd be sparring with Dani.” He catches Bucky's vibranium hand and smiles proudly sideways at Daniela, "Hey, look!”

Daniela grimaces a bit, knowing what Bucky was about to do. She's been on the other end of Bucky's fists, she's caught that vibranium hand before too, so she knew all too well what he was capable of. Bucky just smiles sarcastically at him, then takes his right foot and suddenly swept Peter's legs out from underneath him. Daniela grits her teeth and shudders when she hear Peter's head hit the mat, hard. Peter lays there for a moment clearly trying to regain his breath and composure. His eyes are closed, teeth gritted, and cheeks slightly pink from embarrassment.

Daniela furrows her brows and hisses, "Damn it, Bucky." Bucky looks over to her and smiles proudly.

"Now," Bucky begins while turning back to Peter, kneeling down beside him, and pats him on the chest with his flesh hand, "are you done trying to impress the girl?”

Peter audibly growls, shocking Daniela, and looks back at Bucky as he opens his eyes, "Are you?" 

Daniela's eyes grow wide as do Bucky's, surprised by the sudden forwardness, "Excuse me?" Bucky asks, voice deeper and more threatening than before

However, Peter's angry expression doesn't change, he just rolls his eyes, "Nothing, sir.”

"That's what I thought." Bucky stands up once more and helps Peter to his feet, the pair still glaring at each other.

"Alright," Daniela stands up and claps her hands together, "as much fun as this is for me." She rolls her eyes as the men continue to stare each other down, "I think I'll be going now. Too much testosterone in here.”

Peter snaps out of his trance, "Wait!" He somewhat hops over to her, trying to stop her from leaving, "You're gonna leave me with him?” He holds her forearm and pouts a bit, "I thought we were still partners?”

Daniela smiles reassuringly, "We are, Parker, but I've got orders to rest today.”

He furrows his brows and lets go of her arm, "Who said that?”

Bucky walks up next to her and crosses his arms, "I did." He tips his chin up slightly and looks down at Peter, "Got a problem with that, Parker?”

Peter slightly narrows his eyes at Bucky, “No sir.”

Daniela just rolls her eyes at the two while encasing her leg in a layer of ice to keep the swelling down, "God, Barnes," Bucky smirks at the kid before turning his gaze to her, "take it easy on him would ya?”

He lightly shrugs, "I'll take it into consideration.”

She groans as she walks around Peter toward the gym door, "I'm starting to think the SRT squad would have treated me so much better.”

Bucky laughs while Peter looks confused, "But then you wouldn't be one of Earth's mightiest heroes." His voice dropping to imitate Thor, making Peter laugh.

Daniela turns around and wrinkles up her nose in disgust, "First off, horrible Thor impression.” Peter smiles looking between them both, "Second, I'm not one of Earth's mightiest heroes. I'm an old woman from Montana, forced to live in a compound with a bunch of freaks, and now I'm stuck babysitting a spider from Queens.” She holds up a hand before either can speak, "Thirdly, if either of you knew my history, you may not be so fond of me.”

“Why’s that?” Peter asked.

She shakes her head, “Never mind."

Peter frowns a bit and turns to Bucky who nods toward the mat behind them, “Come on, Parker, we got work to do."

[mxstball]

[PURPLE HERON] Distrust

Hera and Hel stood back-to-back as they looked around them. Great. First, there was the Phenomenon, and now this Presence that was overwhelming. Hera is sure that Helen wouldn't like hearing about this at all, especially considering how this one was so closely tied to one of Helen's favorites. Still, it was better to understand things now rather than learn when it was too late.

"Guess we're learning a lot more than what we bargained for, huh?" Hera chuckled.

"Yeah. talk about going full circle." Hel adjusted her hair. "Honestly, when the Phenomenon mentioned to you guys that she knew Mona, I wasn't inclined to believe her. I guess that I should have, considering she was able to lead us to her without my help."

"Yeah, well, at least we still have each other for now, then. I wonder what she did to the others."

"..."

Hera and Hel continued to stand back-to-back. Hera was waiting to get a sense of The Presence once again, but all she could feel was Hel nearby. What was it that she wanted to do with them, anyway?

"Why are the two of you standing like that?"

The duo quickly turned to see the source of the sound… and, just as they did, Hera quickly felt the overwhelming presence and aura towering over her. Emerging from the darkness, Mona and the True Arceus walked forward, holding hands.

"The Phenomenon…."

"The Presence…."

The True Arceus blinked. "...do you think we're planning on doing something to you?"

Hera shook her head. "N--no, but you all vanished so suddenly--"

Mona sighed. "My apologies. I simply just wanted to speak to Heidi and my love each privately."

Hel dropped her guard and turned towards the duo. "And Melony?"

Mona nodded. "Melony is fine. She… is doing a little errand for me."

"..." Hera nodded. She dropped her own guard and looked at the True Arceus. "Can you two like, not, by the way? It's disconcerting."

"Not wha-- oh! Sorry." The True Arceus changed her aura to a normal value. "Sorry about that. Habit when I'm with her."

Mona dropped her own presence as well. Better to stay on the playing field as everyone else than to cause trouble. Though, considering Hera's wariness, she was right to keep those two together.

"By the way, Mona, I thought it was said that I'm not allowed to see you."

"Well, that's still true." Mona nodded. "You are not looking at me per say. This is a human vessel so that I may communicate with you without possessing Hel."

"And you made that yourself?"

She nodded. "Modeled after two of the versions of me that have reunited me with my love, and a little inspiration from my love herself, of course."

"...Hmph. The only thing beyond my imagination is how sappy the lover to every version of Hera gets. Seems that version of me are no exception."

"Wh--what? H--hey!" The True Arceus took offense to that.

"Perhaps we aren't of any exception, after all." Mona giggled. She didn't take any offense. "Although, considering what I know, perhaps it is unwise to throw stones from glass houses, little lamb. Fufufu~"

Hel didn't grace that statement with an response. She already knew that was an omen to something, and she didn't want to imagine her True Self getting the last laugh as she always does.

[colleenmurphy]

"All I ever wanted was to marry him. Make a home and raise a family, have something like my parents did...but he didn't want that with me."

He watched as she carefully took out a large leather-bound scrapbook and passed it to him. A finely manicured nail pointed out a sandy haired tanned and lanky looking fisherman with a large grin spread across his face as he wrapped an arm around a younger and even more tan Colleen who was smiling softly. Going back a few photos, possibly taken a few years apart Bruce noticed that Col's facial expression changed over the years, rather abruptly, but a definite marked changed from the love that shone from her in the first few, he could tell by her clothes and how her hair changed from complicated updos to long and loose.

"I'm not even seeing a ring in any of these."

The snick of a lighter and the rumble of bubbles let him know that she'd pulled out the bong she kept for 'Serious Business' also known as the FUBAR water pipe. This was heavy shit she was going to lay on him, as she should. He'd told her everything about what happened to him over there at 18. She was the only one to relive it with him as he had never told a single soul except those that were with him in the moment. She had busied herself grabbing the stash box and her tiny crane shaped scissors along with a black lacquer tray and began snipping, fluffing and packing as she tried to calm herself.

"Over there on the stereo...A side track one of Stills 2."

He knew that she was a fan of the Eagles as well as Joe Walsh but it was Stephen Stills and his lyrical and musical expertise that had captured Colleen's heart as well as her words. Bruce had heard this one but he'd never heard it especially from a broken hearted woman's point of view.

Please then remember and don't get too close To one special one He will take your defenses and run

"He took everything from me, slowly but steadily over the course of twelve years together I had nothing left to give him. Dave used to work for my Dad and uncle Harvey on a fishing boat my Granddad had. We went to school together so I knew him, he was a clown but for some reason after he started working for the business he had his eye on me. Of course I was flattered...I mean..."

Holding up a high school yearbook photo with something sappy written on it signed 'love Dave' on the back. Bruce had to admit that Dave the Idiot was a decent looking guy. There was another one of them together, a couple photo with another doe eyed curly haired girl and a dude that just all but screamed 'I'm a douchebag punch me'. They were sitting somewhere on a beach by the rocks in the sunshine all carefree and without a scarred heart amongst them.

"So you think..."

Passing him the lighter and the bong she nodded. Bruce shook his head and she took the first hit. The smoke looping and whirling up the looped neck of the bong until she pulled the bowl out and inhaled and held it. Holding out the bong once more she offered it to him and he accepted. Mimicking her motions he nearly burnt his thumb until she leaned over, exhaled over his shoulder away from his face and flicked the lighter for him with a smile.

"That the little weasel never truly loved me and was only using me to make his name known? Yes. When my Dad died I was 16, nearly 17, I had like a month to go and then my world turned to shit but anyways...Dave was off in New York with his buddies from the country club, people I introduced him to, Joel Benson was one that stands out but he's another story entirely, my mother tried calling him twenty times, Helene tried at least a hundred. He'd just pick up the receiver and put it back down..."

A sniffle was heard quietly as she now went about rolling a joint. She always had to be doing something with her hands when she was upset he noted.

"After a while he just left it off the hook. He expected me to help him cover his half of the room service bill he'd had mailed home because why not? When my mom finally told him what happened to my Dad you'd have thought it was his father that had died..."

That was when she finally let the dam break and her tears fall. Shaky hands lit the joint that she'd rolled and she inhaled deeper than he'd ever seen her. He wondered if she had used weed to quit smoking but that was a question for another day.

"Sounds to me like I know I'm playing Santa to Dave this year when we visit for Christmas."

Another hit and she passed it to him with a small quizzical smile.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm knocking his teeth down his throat and as a stocking stuffer he's getting a black eye."

[weirdstrangeandawful]

Part XI – Healed and Long-Forgotten Bruises

TW: sex (mentioned)

Word count: 1407

<-Part X – A Ship of Broken Sailors

Table of contents

Part XII – A Set of Hands Means Two->

A long silhouette remains in the dust on the floor of the corner of Carroll’s room. A couple footsteps lead up to it and recent finger trails lay on either side in the dust; four on one side, one on the other. Carroll wipes a dry rag along the length of the cane, clearing it of dust in one swift motion. He coughs lightly as he breathes it in.

Kyte sneezes. And sneezes again. He blows his nose politely in a well-worn handkerchief and sneezes yet again. Running out of air to sneeze, he takes in a new breath through his mouth, looks at Carroll’s far-too-amused expression, shoots back an annoyed one, and exhales softly. One last weak sneeze escapes him through what was somehow neither his mouth, nor his nose, but also both at the same time. Carroll is so clearly biting the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from laughing.

The wood of the handle, smoothed by once-constant use, sits familiarly in Carroll’s hand. He lets the tip fall to the floor with a soft wooden clack and presses down on it, finding its balance. He tries to take a step, immediately failing to time the movement right and quickly shoving down his rising frustration. He takes a few more steps, each somehow mistimed differently but badly mistimed nonetheless, and stares at Kyte blankly from across the room.

“Well, I tried,” his comment is light but fraught with defeat.

“Go slow, Carroll. You can’t expect to know what to do without practice,” Kyte explains with the air of someone who has taught many a stubborn apprentice.

“I have practice!” Carroll retorts indignantly, only slightly bothered that Kyte cares for his well-being.

“But how long has it been?”

“Not too long!”

“My nose disagrees.” Kyte punctuates the silly argument with a well-timed sneeze. Carroll pouts in response, accepting defeat.

A knock sounds at the door, saving Carroll from having to try again. He tosses the cane onto the bed with satisfied defeat and limps over to the door. Helen stands in the doorway with a slate. “I hope it’s not a bad time. I reassigned the crew for the next three days. Well Ethel did and I wrote it down. Same as last time and no major changes.”

“Thanks,” Carroll takes the slate and invites her in, “Come on in; don’t stand in the doorway.”

Helen enters. Kyte gives her a tiny wave which she returns.

“Are you being shy?” Carroll asks him as he doesn’t approach.

Holding up his thumb and forefinger very close together, Kyte nods and comes over, letting Carroll put a protective arm over his shoulder.

“How’s Rowan?” Carroll continues.

“He’s okay. Sleeping properly now I’ve drugged him a second time.” Helen pauses, looking Carroll in the eye with a deliberately neutral expression, “I see you’ve got your cane out.”

Running his hand through his untied hair, sweeping it out of his face, Carroll sighs, “It’s going away in a moment.”

A disappointed look settles onto Helen’s face, now a carbon-copy of Kyte’s expression. “And here I was all excited that you might be taking care of yourself for once,” Helen points out lightly, fishing for an explanation.

“Yeah, well it doesn’t work,” Carroll explains, dismissively.

“It would work if you gave yourself some leeway,” Kyte interjects, defending Helen.

“I don’t account for the leeway. Quinn does,” Carroll retorts with no fire and half-hearted conviction, referencing the nautical term rather than the metaphorical one, “Besides, if I ever have to set foot on a three-decked second-rate ever again, I will personally fight the Admiralty to redesign them so they stop sailing leeward. Sorry. What were you saying?”

A smile tugs at both Kyte and Helen’s lips as Kyte perseveres, “You know I mean to say you didn’t give yourself a shred of latitude.”

“That is also Quinn’s job, not mine,” a glimmer of laughter flashes across Carroll’s face, followed immediately by amused frustration. “I’ve had enough ‘practice’ for to-day.”

“No, you just don’t want to look silly in front of your new boyfriend,” Helen retorts, confirming Carroll’s suspicion that her tact is, in fact, permanently misplaced.

After far too long a moment, Carroll realises his mouth is open and shuts it with a snap. He continues staring at Helen in slight horror, slight shock, and a lot more embarrassment.

“Said new boyfriend, if you’ll recall, Carroll, fell over the moment they stood up on your ship,” Kyte reminds him, handing Carroll’s cane back to him. “Now go slow and practice.”

Carroll looks to Helen, a look of soft shame crossing his face. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” he admits.

“Well, neither do I if you won’t show me. I’m no Rowan,” Helen concedes, referencing Rowan’s having spent months re-teaching Carroll to walk, “but I’m sure a second set of eyes won’t do any harm in figuring out the problem.”

Acquiescing, Carroll demonstrates his mistimed steps for Helen and lets her correct him gently. He crosses the room back and forth, slowly at first, receiving a small cheek kiss from Kyte every time he returns to his side of the room. Eventually, after solidly figuring out the timing with Helen’s assistance, Carroll sits on the bed, mentally, and to some extent physically, exhausted.

“Thank you,” Carroll admits to Helen after a moment, getting up to shut the door behind her before turning to Kyte, “Don’t you dare look so smug.”

“I’m proud of you,” Kyte tells him, his expression far from smug. His eyes are soft and quiet as they gently peer into Carroll’s soul.

Four days. Four days is all it took them both to know they wanted to spend their lives together. Four days for Kyte to fall in love and want to hold Carroll’s broken heart together with his bare hands and protect it from the harsh and evil world. Four days for Carroll to want to find the missing pieces so that he may one day love Kyte with all his heart.

“What’s wrong?” Kyte asks, his voice a mere ripple in the tender silence but sending a jolt through Carroll nonetheless. He nods to the cane whose handle Carroll is gripping with steady pressure.

Carroll’s eyes are dark as he looks up. “I vowed never to pick up a cane in anger,” his voice chokes up with regret, “And now what am I doing?”

Kyte pads over and hugs him, standing on his toes to bury his face in Carroll's neck. His voice is as soft and warm as the breath that dusts under Carroll’s collar, “What I hope you meant is that you would never pick up a cane in violence.” Kyte feels Carroll pause and he continues, “Anger can be peaceful too.”

In a single moment, years of healed and long-forgotten bruises at the hands of his superiors resurface in Carroll’s mind, burning with the force of his long-repressed anger. He gathers Kyte tightly in his arms, channelling rage into affection.

He pulls away and reluctantly picks up his cane. “Let’s get something to eat. Come on.” He walks out the door with Kyte, already growing more confident in both his ability to use the cane, and that to box off unpleasant emotions like pain… and love.

The wood frame of Rowan’s bed creaks softly in overly dramatic protest as though Quinn’s weight is suddenly too much for it to bear. They sit side-saddle on the edge of the mattress, one foot perched up on the edge of the bed frame, bringing their knee up just high enough that they can casually drape an elbow over it.

Rowan is asleep on the bed, the rise and fall of his chest a comfort to Quinn. He might be a bloody idiot but at least he’s alive for now. The sky darkens slowly, lacking the spectacular colours that ought to accompany a sunset – it must be overcast. Quinn tears their eyes from where they had been watching Rowan sleep over their shoulder and ascertains the shutters are fastened before the rain.

“You going to keep vigil all night or…?” Rowan’s strained voice startles Quinn slightly.

They look over. Rowan’s eyes are closed. “You should be asleep.”

“Funny what pain does,” he retorts sarcastically. “Come on. I’m not going to fuck you.”

“You’d better not,” Quinn grumbles in a tone that could be either warning or concern before moving stiffly under the covers.

[galaxy-bunbie]

Bandit Flapper

A small Short-Play that I wrote for a School Project. ALL RIGHT RESERVED TO ME. If anyone is at all interested in this piece contact me on Twitter Galaxy_Bunnie or even on here!

THE BANDIT FLAPPER

BY: Karina Cabrera

CAST

HELEN

COP

JAMES

AGATHA

HELEN is at a table her hands cuffed together, around her is darkness and the chair across from her is empty. She's there in the darkness for a while, tapping her foot and fiddling with the cuffs. Moments pass and HELEN stands up holding the cuffs on one of her fingers, throwing the cuffs to the ground she smiles, turning her chair to look at the audience.

HELEN: I remember the first job I went on, like it was yesterday. It runs through my mind everyday, and honestly makes me smile a little bit more each and every time. It was a fun time, I was young, and swift. Was never going to be caught at that age, plus I'm sure I could have played my way out of any trouble. Actually to hell I think I did. Ha, yeah I remember it now that little cop, he really did try to follow my tail. Was close! Real close, but luckily I am an actress honestly, could likely beat Olive Thomas in the audition rooms. But regardless I looked at the fuzz straight in the eye giving him my best doe eyes and pouty lip. Look, watch.

The lights start to shift as the table is taken out by what seems to be movers, then HELEN is there in the dark as city noises surround the space. In the back there are silhouettes to show that she is in the city of some sort. A mover comes out and throws HELEN a trench coat and duffle bag, which she quickly puts on trying to hide the bag in the process. 

COP: Hey you! Stop what you're doing!

HELEN: Oh please sir, can you point me in the right direction? I seem to have gotten lost. I'm new to town and keep forgetting the location of the Miss Agatha's Hotel? We call her Miss Aggie though. 

COP: Oh uh, I see. I'm sorry mam I think I confused you for someone else, so uh well you see just down that street right there, you're going to keep walking until you see the big ol sign that says Main Street. Once there you should be in the home stretch as Miss Aggies hotel is the big ol red building on Main. Ya can’t miss it. 

HELEN: Oh thank you so much sir! I am forever thankful for your help. Is there anything I could possibly do to repay you?

COP: O-Oh no mam, you don't need to do that. I'm just here protecting the citizens of the city and making sure a pretty woman like you gets home alright. Will you be ok walking back to Miss Aggies by yourself?

HELEN: Oh don't worry. I think I’ll be able to manage. Thank you sir, I hope you have a nice night. You've been real. Help.

HELEN starts to make an exit but as she exits the bag drops from her coat.

COP: Oh, mam you seem to have dro-

HELEN: Thank you sir, I am so sorry I guess I must be really clumsy. Well, thank you again sir-

COP: Hold on mam, I am so sorry, but you see just a few blocks from here there was a robbery-

HELEN: Excuse me sir! You're accusing me of robbing a bank? I think you need a pair of glasses sir, I could never do that. I am practically a mere little lady.

COP: Oh, well um I am sincerely mam. I guess perhaps I am in the wrong, well, here you go. You should be on your way. The sun seems to be setting and this town is sadly mighty dangerous at night. Even if we do try to keep it as safe as we can, especially for little ladies li-

HELEN exits, and finally COP realizes that she is gone. He looks around a bit as if looking for her when JAMES runs on stage catching his breath.

JAMES: Did you catch her? She ran this way the Flapper that robbed Newman's bank. Hey, Hey look at me buddy where you looking off to?

COP: Oh detective James, I am sincerely sorry I didn't see you there. I am so sorry sir uh what were you saying just now?

JAMES: Jesus h christ Harold, look up at me and stop bowing your head. You looked like a dog looking after a bone just now. Now look at me and tell me did you see if that Flapper passed by here?

COP: No sir, just a little lady, I was uh looking to see where she went off to. See the sun is setting and it could be a mighty dangerous time for-

JAMES: Harold, I don’t care about that, did you check the lady over? Right not every lady who isn't accompanied by a friend or man is a suspect. So please tell me. Please. That you at least did a search on her or any bags she had.

COP: Well, uh you see sir. She was uh just a little la-

JAMES: Harold! I don't care if she was a little lady, if she wouldn't have been able to do it. Dear god every woman we searched today has said that because guess what genius. These ladies know how to play us, act all sweet and innocent, make us lower our walls. Do you hear me Harold?

COP: U-uh yes sir I. I understand I am sorry I will make sure to search any suspect well next time, uh real well.

JAMES: Good, now at least tell me you were able to confirm that she wasn't wearing what the suspect wore.

COP: Uh, w-well

JAMES: Jesus Christ Harold! You did not. Please tell me that you know that the lady wasn't wearing a flapper dress or so god. If I have to do more paper-

COP: Well uh, you better get that pen ready and b-buckle up sir.

JAMES: God dammit Harold, you son of a- god you're so dumb. Ok whatever its fine, do you know where this lady may have gone? I guess I’ll do your job since your fired.

COP: Oh well you see she went to Miss Agatha- Wait fired?

JAMES: Yes, fired Harold. Now, you are free to go and get out of the way of my work am I clear? (beat) Harold. Am. I. Clear?

COP: U-Uh Y-Yesir.

JAMES: Good

JAMES exits quickly following the direction that HELEN went off in, COP is there looking around for a moment.

COP: God Dammit.

COP exit. The scene starts to change showing the sunset, and we see the city line start to switch to one main building. There is the sound of the bell and doors opening and finally, the lights come up on what seems to be an inside setting. Specifically the lobby of Miss Agatha's hotel. There is a counter and behind it a door. HELEN enters.

HELEN: Ohhhhh Momma. I'm home! Momma? (beat) Oh miss Aggie! Agatha. Oh my god.

HELEN walks over to the counter and spots a bell. She reaches out and starts to ring it continuously with the next line.

HELEN: Oh Momma. Wake up lil Hel is home. Oh Momma Aggie. Miss Aggie. Agatha my Banana Mama. Miss Aggie the mega Ba-

AGATHA enters from the door, HELEN didn't see her and continues until AGATHA places her hand over HELENS stopping the ringing.

AGATHA: Every day you make me regret checking you into this hotel more and more. Now must I remind you. You don't have the right to call me Momma if you don't pay rent. An certainly not the right to call me Aggie or Agatha, or Agatha my-

HELEN: But I do got rent, see.

HELEN places on the counter the bag that had dropped earlier. HELEN also starts to shrug off her coat revealing a flapper dress underneath.

AGATHA: Helen put that damn jacket back on, I don't want people seeing a floozy in my Hotel Lobby. Now let's open this up. Oh goodness! Helen darling this is a nice haul. 

HELEN: Yeah, yeah. Now, how much more time will that buy me Momma. Please tell me you can do me a lil favor.

AGATHA: Of course, I can. That is after you put that damn jacket on.

HELEN: Oh Momma, you don't mean that come on. That jacket is just so itchy and it's hot. See look! My curls are falling out because of how hot it is.

AGATHA: Oh Helen put that damn jacket on, quickly now. Someone’s walking up to the building.

HELEN: Oh Shit. 

HELEN quickly grabs the jacket and moves to behind the counter and tries to go into AGATHA’s room. As the door opens and JAMES walks in, HELEN quickly ducks instead leaving AGATHA and JAMES there alone.

AGATHA: Well hello officer, I'm sorry but I didn't know if you saw the sign outside or not. But this is Miss Agathas Hotel for working girls. I believe it said loud and clear on the door sign “NO MEN: Unless accompanied by a Tenant. So I am sincerely sorry but you're going to have to turn around officer. Unless perhaps, you came to speak to me in which I’ll gladly have the plea-

JAMES: Ok. Mam that's enough. I am here strictly on business-

AGATHA: Now. Now! Hold up there. That is not the type of hotel that we are running-

JAMES: Excuse me Agatha. Um if I may speak so frankly but I am here just wondering about an inquiry on a young woman who's a suspect of a bank robbery a few blocks over.

AGATHA: You’re suspecting one of my girls? Heaven forbid! My girls each came from a harsh broken background. Then they came to me like little puppies in the rain. Sad, Lonely, with no roof over their heads either and no job to help support them. Well, I'll tell you, Miss Agatha. That's me: helped them get back on their feet and find them all a good little working job.

JAMES: Mam, I am just wondering if perhaps any of your tenants are a flapper-

AGATHA: Oh my heavens no! They are so modern, loud and if I dare say a whole lot of Floozys. I don't have a single Flapper here in fact oh look there is my favorite tenant right now. If I dare say she is the cream of all the crop here in Miss Agatha's hotel.

From the section that leads further into the hotel comes HELEN she is dressed in business attire with a hat on her head. But that didn't hide the fact that her hair was also a very different color, but it was still HELEN with the way she carried herself. 

HELEN: Oh Miss Aggie! I'm heading out now for the day. It seems the Office needed me to come in today as Mr. Langston’s other secretary got sick. I hope she is fine, poor girl catch-

AGATHA: Now, now Helen dear. Didn't you learn any manners? Right before you is a fine officer gentleman. He's here to ask a few questions of our tenants. Since you're the first to come down, how about you tell this fine gentleman what you were up to hmmm?

HELEN: Oh now Miss Aggie you know it's embarrassing but if you really insist. You see officer I was working upstairs on my needlework, 

JAMES: Yes well, I'm sorry to ask you mam. However I must say your makeup is very modern for a office job perhaps you should cha-

HELEN: Now now Mr. Officer. Every woman has their preference, and that was extremely rude. So I must say, I believe you owe me something hmmm? Perhaps I should know your name since you know mine. Plus you also just rudely insulted my makeup, which in my defense is the style.

JAMES: Yes, I guess you're right. But you must tell me your full name as well, so I can take you off the list of suspects. 

HELEN: Of course. So you first?

JAMES: James, James Blakely.

HELEN: Helen Debois.

BLACK OUT

[hotforharrysheart]

2. Her Birthday Was Naughty

Harry smiles at you as the airplane wheels hit the runway. He can just tell by the peaceful look on your face that you were in a space of pure delight just being this close to the pink cottage. Your expressive smile and gentle tug on his arm tell him this was by far your happy place. Truth be told, he couldn’t imagine not having this little bubble you had here to escape to. It was your own version of paradise. He spots Ron standing next to the Range Rover waiting for you and as the stairs lower Helen steps out with a beautiful lavender Hydrangea bouquet and the biggest smile ever.

“Look, H, Helen came this time!” You say pointing out the door and stepping on the first step. Harry just grins and watches you skip down the stairs.

“Well, ‘ello there birthday girl!” Helen calls out throwing her arms around you.

“Hi Helen, I’m so happy to see you!” You say returning her tight hug. Harry and Ron shake hands and greet.

“Happy birthday, darlin’,” Ron grins kissing both of your cheeks while Helen does the same to Harry.

“We were wondering if you kids would mind giving us an hour of your time and let us take you to Marcy’s for brunch? She puts out an incredible spread this time of day.” Helen says with one arm around Harry’s waist.

“You told her!” You say to Harry.

He chuckles. “She asked me. Had ta.”

“That sounds like a yes then,” Ron says, pulling you in for a hug.

You pile into the car and head to Marcy’s. Helen wasn’t lying…Marcy knew how to brunch. Over brunch you all talked, laughed and got caught up on all the local gossip. Harry and Ron talked about Ron’s latest woodworking project and you and Helen talked about some decorating changes you’d like to make to the cottage.

You were stuffed with all your favorite brunch foods as you decided to walk back to the cottage. Ron and Helen wanted to make a quick stop to top off the gas tank and you and Harry decided to take a slow walk over to the cottage.

You’re walking with Harry, his hand holding yours, you’re leaning into his arm, and he kisses the top of your head as you walk. “Love ya, hope ya know tha’,” Harry says as you’re steps away from the front door.

“Mmmm…love you too.”

He kisses you quickly. Walking up the cobblestones to the pink door you notice that Ron and Helen have already arrived. Harry bypasses the door and takes you around to the back deck. You look at him with a raised eyebrow, “Where are we going, H?”

“Have another present fo’ ya. This is from Ron and Helen.” You turn the corner of the cottage to see them standing next to the parked Range Rover.

You turn to walk to them. “You didn’t have to do that! Thank you! I know I’ll love it!” You tell them, kissing both of them on their cheeks.

Harry chuckles. “Close ya eyes.”

You do and he leads you one side of the deck and says, “Open.”

You open your eyes and there’s a beautiful handmade porch swing. It’s made of stripped oak logs and is a study in the beautiful craftmanship. Stained and varnished, the wood shines with gorgeous long grains of rich browns and red browns.

Tears fill your eyes. “I love it,” you say, your hands moving over the wood. “It’s just incredible.”

“Tha’ is a native broadleaved species of oak from woodlands in Herefordshire,” Ron says proudly, “Fine sturdy wood, it’ll last yer lifetime.”

“I’m speechless, Ron…just speechless…,” you say walking back to him to throw your arms around his neck. “I’ve never had someone gift me something they made for me.”

Harry looks on with a soft smile and a thankful expression on his face. The Chapmans are truly two of the loveliest people he has ever known and he’s so happy to have met them. More importantly he’s so thankful to have people he trusts implicitly with both his and your lives.

“Well darlin’ yer welcome, but ‘elen here has somethin’ pretty fo’ ya too.”

Helen pulls another box from behind the swing. “I made this.”

The tears spill over as you untie the red bow on a beautiful brown paper wrapped box. Inside wrapped in soft white tissue is a beautiful hand knitted pink blanket. “Oh my god, Helen, this is so beautiful. It must’ve taken hours to make. Thank you so much!”

You reach for her to hug her tight and then move to Ron and hug him again. You stand in front of Harry and bury your head in his chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He kisses your head.

“Everything’s in order, Harry but if you have any problems, you can call me.”

Harry nods.

“C‘mon, Ron let’s go home. Let them get settled.”

“Ok, but there’s the matter…”

“Which you can tell him about later,” Helen says, pulling on his arm.

Harry is trying to keep a straight face but he’s so amused at this whole situation.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, darling. C’mon Ron!”

“Thank you both so much,” you say softly.

Ron looks like he wants to say more but he gives up and lets Helen drag him from the cottage.

Harry laughs as they’re leaving shaking his head. Helen doesn’t miss anything.

He has his arm around your shoulder and you both wave as they’re walking away. Bennett comes running up to greet them.

“Aww, there’s Bennett,” you say softly.

Harry looks down and smiles at you, “Don’ worry, I’ll make sure we get to see him and Thomasina befo’ we head back.”

You return the smile and add a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you so much Harry. You have done so much for me and I don’t know what I can ever do for you that will ever compare,” you lay your head on his shoulder, “you’re so easy to love, H, and it’s so hard for me when I realize that…I can’t give back to you in the same way you give to me.”

He pulls your chin up to meet your eyes, “baby, I have no illusions ‘bout wha’ I can do wi’ my money, it’s a gift to get ta do wha’ I love an’ be so fortunate at it, but ‘m just Harry, I don’ wan’ or need anything from ya other than wha’ we are together. So, please, don’ think I wan’ anything more than you, you are my most precious fortune. ‘M in love with ya.”

A tear rolls down your face. “Thank you, its been on my mind for a while now and I didn’t know how to talk to you about it.”

“Sweet’eart ya can tell me anythin’ tha’s on ya mind, yeah? Please don’ let things bother ya when we can jus’ talk ‘bout it.”

You nod your head. “Let’s go in Harry…let’s go into our cottage, please?”

On the inside there are jars of the Hydrangeas you love so much all around and in the kitchen you find a beautiful card from Helen telling you to check the fridge for a special treat. Inside is a delicious looking cheesecake with a twirl of lemon on top. You groan and Harry gives you a raised eyebrow look. “Wha’s got ya so excited in tha fridge, babe?” He says, voice laced with a touch of jealousy.

You swipe your finger in the middle and pop the cream in your mouth. “Mmmm….Lemon cheesecake…oh god it’s so good,” you say licking your finger. You swipe another fingerful and hold it out to him. He promptly pops his tongue out and sucks your finger into his warm mouth. “Mmmm… so good…” he moans.

“I know right, so fresh,” you mention pulling your finger back.

“I know and the cream is pretty good too,” he teases leaning down to lick your lips.

And just like that, the energy in the kitchen shifts. He moves closer to you and slants his lips over yours. He presses soft, open-mouthed kisses to your lips.

“Mmmm…” you moan against his lips. He smiles against your lips.

“Ya ‘no, interestingly ‘nough, tha porch swing isn’t tha only swing ya got fo’ ya birthday.”

You pull back, eyes wide. “It came in? I wanna see it! C’mon!”

He chuckles, shaking his head. Damn, I love that she loves sex, he thinks.

He follows you up the stairs. You’re already in the closet and looking for the lever. He comes up behind you, taking your hand, and places your hand on the lever. The faux door opens and you walk through it quickly and then you’re in the pink room looking around. Then you see it…a bright pink swing in the far corner. You can feel a shot of arousal shoot through your body. Just the thought of him fucking you in that swing turns you on more than you thought it would. You’re looking at it in awe.

Harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. “D’ya like it?”

“Yes…I like it very much,” you say swaying with him slightly

Kissing just below your ear he whispers, “Ya picturing us using it?”

“Yes,” you say breathily.

“C’mere,” he says turning you around and kissing you; his hands go to the hem of your hoodie. He lifts it up and you break apart long enough to take it off. You tug at his hoodie and he steps back and pulls it off. Your hands automatically go to his chest and you run your hands over his pecks. He feels so good. He pulls you back to him and kisses you again, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you open for him. He picks you up and lays you down on the bed and the smell of leather hits you immediately.

“Mmmmm…” you moan.

He kisses you again, tongue tangling with yours, pelvis pressed to yours, rubbing against you. He pulls back and pushes his joggers down his legs and off, then reaches for the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down.

You sigh as he settles back over you. It always feels so good to be skin to skin with him. He kisses you again. Like he can’t get enough of your mouth. You moan into his mouth. His hands slide to your breasts, cupping them, thumbing your nipples into hard points before his fingers pull at them hard the way you like it. You moan into his mouth again.

“God, I just…I can’t get enough of ya…I wan’ ya all the time,” he says, kissing down your neck to your breasts. He sucks your nipple into his mouth, and you cry out when he bites down just right.

“Want you all the time too…” you mutter threading your fingers in his hair.

“Yeah? God, ya smell s’good.” He says, lips moving down your stomach. “Why d’ya smell s’good?”

Your hands fist his curls. Your body is thrumming with anticipation of his mouth on you.

He pushes your legs up and just looks at you. He runs his finger down your slit. “Ya s’wet fo’ me already…fuck…”

You moan out as he trails his finger over your clit.

“I wan’ ya ta sit this pussy on my face.”

“What?” You jerk your head up.

“Switch places. Wan’ ya on my face.”

You moan out. “Ok,” you breathe out and move so he can lay down. He gets situated and you straddle him and he pulls you up his chest, until your hovering over his face.

“Know ya love it like this,” he mumbles, accent thick and voice low.

You shiver from the vibrations of his voice. “Mmmm…it’s s’good.”

He yanks you closer and then his tongue is licking up your slit and you grip the headboard as he sucks your clit in his mouth.

Everything is heightened this way. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of him taking you like this.

Your legs are shaking and you’re panting above him. He releases your clit and goes back to licking your clit with the point of his tongue. “Ahhhh….”

He stops long enough to say, “Ya close baby?”

You nod, letting a shuddering breath out.

He latches back into your clit, hollowing his cheeks, tongue working your clit.

“Haaahhhhh….fuck!” And then you’re orgasm hits hard, knuckles white on the headboard, head thrown back and legs shaking around his head.

You move off him and lay down next to him, panting.

He rolls over and kisses you sloppily and ruts his pelvis into your hip. “Put me in the swing, Harry. Take me in the swing.”

He smiles. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Please.”

“Ok, baby, can ya hold on fo’ a second first?” he says rubbing his nose on yours and placing a gentle kiss to your lips.

He gets up and walks stark naked to the table by the door to grab his phone, a few seconds later a deep, sensual thrum of music surrounds you. “Had a sound system installed as well,” he says meeting your eyes. His stare stays on you laying there knees bent but perched to one side. “Speakers are up there,” he says pointing up.

You close your eyes and listen to the slow deep bass coming through the speakers.

“Open ya eyes, love look up an’ see wha’ I see… so fuckin’ beautiful.”

You open your eyes and see your reflection above you in the ornate mirror. You raise your arms above your head and stretch your body out like a cat.

Harry hasn’t left where he’s standing, he’s watching you see yourself and blood surges through his already hard as steel cock.

You look down your body and crook your finger to him, bidding him to come to you.

He walks over, leans down, his hands on the bed and murmurs, “Come on, baby, let’s give this love swing a try, yeah?”

You nod sitting up and scooting off the bed. You’re a little unstable after the intense orgasm, so Harry, although smirking, helps you get steady feet, “Ok?”

You nod again and he says, “baby, remember, I need words in here, yeah?”

“Yes Harry, I’m Ok,” you say looking through your eyelashes.

You take the steps to the corner where the swing is and see where the seat part is attached. He puts his hands on your bottom and says, “Jump”

You jump up and lifts you in the seat. Next you work together to get the straps under your knees and into the foot straps. You slowly lean back against the seat back, your legs suspended with slightly bent knees. The swing sways and starts to twirl.

“Nope, stay right here with me,” he says to the swing smiling at you.

You smile back and swing open your legs. You scoot down in the seat a little and it leave part of your bum hanging off. It’s incredible how the swing cradles your back softly.

Harry stands between your spread legs. “How’s it feel?” He asks looking you up and down.

“Strangely comfortable and like I’m floating, but completely supported,” you say breathlessly. You moan and close your eyes, “My pussy is wide open and the air is cool.”

“Fuck, so sexy,” he says running his hands up your inner thighs. Trying out the swinging aspect, he pushes and pulls you back and forth slowly. “Jesus, can move ya anyway I wan’. Tell me ya love this as much as I do?” He says searching your eyes.

“It’s so open and I feel so… Ahhh…,” you cry out as he runs his finger down your wet slit. “Oh my God Harry!”

“How’s this?” He asks softly before circling your clit then pushing his middle and ring fingers inside you. With his other hand he swings the swing slightly enough to move you on and off on his fingers.

You lay your head back, hair hanging down with a slack jaw, “Shit, Harry the swaying… the music…can feel it everywhere.”

He can’t take his eyes off you. “So fuckin’ sexy…how about this, babe?” He turns his hand just right and curls his fingers and sways the swing so his fingers are running along your g-spot. “Tha’ our spot?” He asks then places his hand on your quivering tummy applying light pressure and pushing you back and forth on the swing with his fingers inside you.

“Don’t stop….it’s so good.” You roll your head with a sloppy smile on your face, you have left time and space, there’s only you and Harry and the feeling running through your body. It’s arousal, but…it’s more than that…it’s love from the one who wants to show you his devotion by pleasuring your body. It’s a pure love from the one who seeks to bring the deepest pleasure you can ever feel. The worship of your whole body and soul through pleasure. This love you have together is a living and breathing manifestation of how you feel for each other. And your exploration and play breathes life into it. It’s just you and Harry; you are learning every part of what makes fucking just as intimate as slow love making. It’s all the same…it’s love.

“Harry, I love you…,” you say riding out a slow orgasm, it’s not the most intense, but it’s softly and slowly rolling through your body.

“Christ ya cummin’ slowly, does tha feel jus’ as good?” He asks brows furrowed and looking directly at the place where his fingers are and your body is softly swaying on them.

You smile and let out a moan that sounds like a song, “Mmmm…hmmm, yes!” You cry out rolling your hips.

“Need ta be inside ya,” he mutters taking a step forward. He pulls his fingers out and lifts them to your nipple, “Honey on ya nipples, babe.”

He grabs his cock at the base and holds still. With his other hand on your tummy, he guides you to him and with a push and pull action on the swing, he enters you.

Your mouth opens and you raise your head to look at him. He’s looking down where you are on him and then lifts his eyes only to meet yours and smirks.

“Well, H, now that you have me here what will you do with me?” You say coyly.

“’M gonna fuck ya, love,” he states, matter of factly.

He stands still and moves the swing back and forth. He’s in deep.

“Ahhhhhh…oh….mmmmm…fuck!”

“Yeah? Tha’ good?”

“Ohmygod yes s’good. It’s…ohhhh…”

You can’t quite explain how it feels to him. How the weightlessness is intense and you can feel him everywhere. Like having sex underwater but it’s more intense because there’s no water.

He leans forward and sucks your nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling to get your wetness on his tongue. “Mmmmm…” he says against your nipple and your back arches.

When he stands up, he pulls your nipple with his mouth until it pops off and bounces back into place. “You doin’ good babe?”

You take one hand off the strap and run it down his sternum and tummy to where you are connected and then to your clit. Looking at him you raise an eyebrow in question. Your expression is asking if it’s ok to circle your clit. So blissed out you want his approval.

“Do it,” he says.

Rubbing circles around your clit, he begins to pick up the pace. He’s got both hands on your hips and is pushing and pulling you on his cock.

He looks up and nods his head, “Gon’ cum fo’ me?” He places his hand on your tummy and the pressure from his push and pull is more than you can stand. Leaning forward slightly he begins to thrust against your sway. Your legs go wider, and the trembling begins in your core.

“Hhaaahhh,” your voice is quivering, “Cumming…cumming…,” is all you can chant.

Pulling you tight on him he stills, “Uhhhh…Uhhhnnghh,” he cries out on a long exhale.

You lose the sounds of the music and only hear the rushing of blood through your ears as the orgasm his full force. Once the intensity subsides, Harry pulls out and leans down bracing his hands on his knees and panting. “Fuckin’ hell!”

You pull your legs closed and try to pull your knees in tight to your body, whimpering.

“Oh, baby, c’mere,” he works rapidly to pull you out of the swing in carries you to out of the pink room and into your bedroom. He takes a moment to clean you both up before he tucks you both in bed. “Darlin’ ya so quiet, ya ok?”

“Harry, that was amazing and I’m perfect. I’m so happy, are you happy?” You ask softly.

“So ‘appy,” he says leaning down to leave a series of kisses along your mouth.

He leans in and says against your lips, “So, how was birthday number 2?”

You cradle his face and catch his eyes. “It was…naughty…kinda like you.”

[firerose]

Dark Piper:

@reading0mens

- Her voice is the most dangerous thing about her

- The monsters who attack her aren‘t killed by her dagger or sword,

-no they are told by a honey-sweet voice to jump off cliffs or impale themselves on their weapons - She is pretty, she always was but it changed after Jason‘s  death,

-her beauty is more intense now, brighter, deadlier,

-like a flame burning everyone who gets too close

- She‘s broken, her eyes are cold, her smile is bitter,

-her laugh is the last thing her enemies hear before their end

- Once she was led by kindness, compassion,  love,

-all those things died when Medea did, when Jason did too young

- Hatred leads her now, to the ones who killed Jason,

- to the one who just watched as he died,

-the one who had the power to save him

- After the emperor's death she began to hate the lord of the skies himself,

-he in her eyes is just as to blame for Jason's death as his killer

- She has allies,

-five remaining heroes of Olympus, Jason's close friend, remaining family, both demigod camps, all tired of the gods, their games and absence - She did not need Charmspeak to convince them,

-care love and pity for her were enough - She starts an open rebellion,

-thousands at her side ready to fight for her

- like thousands were ready to fight for Helen of troy - But she knows that Zeus can‘t be defeated without godly help - She prays, cries, begs her mother to help her,

-accuses her of not being at her father's side when Caligula ruined him

- or  when she was grieving

- tells her that Zeus and the others will never take her seriously as long as he is alive

- Aphrodite is easy to convince,

-blinded by her wish for more respect from the gods,

-by her guilt from watching her mortal family suffer without doing anything

- She begins to spread rumours on Olympus,

-Zeus does not respect them,

-Zeus is a coward keeping them from their children every time a new threat arises,

-Zeus is a cruel tyrant punishing them for tiny mistakes while making a hundreds himself

- Zeus never showed his family care, he only ruled, so one after the other beliefs Aphrodite -She is beautiful, kind and loving in her way, why would she lie? - So they decide that it is time for a change of leadership - Zeus can‘t be beaten in an open attack, so they come up with a trapp 

- Zeus doesn‘t take a new rebellion seriously, what damage can a daughter of Aphrodite cause? - So he feels satisfaction when her allies appear on Olympus, kneeling, humble - They beg for forgiveness, lie to him - His son's girlfriend is supposed to be in the underworld, making a deal with Hades to bring her love back - not following his laws is a good way to make Zeus mad, he does not wait for their worries, their tears - He immediately goes to his brother's kingdom - He gets ambushed at Hades Palace - A net forged by Hephaistos even stronger than the last one is thrown over him - His brothers hold it, he struggles but together they manage to resist - He is dragged toward the edge of the deepest part of the underworld - Where the Olympian council already waits to glow in joy

- their children next to them, with grim excitement on their faces

-Aphrodite is in the middle, beaming with beauty, eyes fiery, smile cold as ice - “ Oh Zeus stops struggling. I had to accept my horrible fate, it‘s only fair if you accept yours too.“ - Her voice is as sweet as honey, freezes his limps - She hid in the shadows, now she stands in front of him - Piper McLean, the demigod he saw as no threat, the girl he saw as weak - He realizes that he was wrong

- she‘s beautiful like her mother

-no her mother's beauty is warm,, soft,

- hers is overwhelming, radiating beauty, face as hard as stone,

-hands calm on her weapons, yet she seems to send out waves of power towards him

-Cold and harsh

- a horrifying command to either kneel before her or cower into a ball and hide - Her eyes are the worst part, Empty holes full of hatred, thoughtful -l she is thinking about thousand possible words to end his life -As he stares at her eyes,

-dark, shimmering like the night sky, he ses the power of Uranus, the first skygod, cruel, unforgiving

-Piper is his granddaughter,

-she a stronger claim to his throne than he does

-Piper knows this too,

-that‘s why Zeus is held over the edge while she pulls out Katoptris - The rule of the heavens glares -“ This won‘t bring my son back. Nothing you do will.“ - Piper smiles, it‘s a pained one 

- The fates won’t allow souls to flee the underworld even if Hades allows it

-“ I know and for that, you will die now “ - Her dagger is driven downwards, Golden Ichor is spilt - Piper watches Zeus fall into darkness. She grins, tears stream down her cheeks - He was right, she‘s broken, now more than ever,

-there is no distraction from her guilty anymore - She cursed the emperors and killed a god because that was easier to hate herself - Now Jason is still dead, thinking she was more worth living than him,

-Piper Mc Lean,  beautiful terrifying,

- Piper MC Lean starts to hate herself again

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

So his was heavily inspired by the scene in burning maze because where Medea dies

Because my god that scene radiated so much god this girl is so badass and this girl is so not okay energy at the same time !

Anyway hope ya’ll enjoyed this one :)

[ragingbookdragon]

Every Night I'm Dancing With Your Ghost

Hal Jordan x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 800 Warnings: Angst

**********************************************************************

She remembered the first time she’d given him a bouquet of roses. His coffee eyes had widened like saucers, shock etched into his expression telling her that he’d not once ever received flowers a day in his life. It became something special to him, her offering a bouquet. She gave them when she knew he didn’t have a good day or when something special was coming up. Humorously enough, on the day they’d wedded, the two of them had both pulled bouquets from behind their backs and laughed in front of the entire congregation until they’d cried, barely managing to get through their vows without another round of hysterical laughter.

It was hard to not cry as she knelt before the gravestone and replaced the withered roses with a fresh dozen, fluffing them up so they looked nice. She moved in a routine fashion as she sprayed the gravestone with a gentle cleaner and softly wiped the dirt and grime away, tracing the letters with her fingers. Forcing herself to forgo sobbing at his grave—again—she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, exhaling shakily as she opened her eyes once more.

A soft green light ebbed from behind her, and she gasped, spinning around to see a green-cloaked figure floating towards her; she rose, one hand going for the gun in the side holster, the other palm out to the figure in a “stop” motion. “I don’t know who you are,” she said calmly, voice twinged with warning as she added, “but I’d stop advancing if you don’t want to be a human sprinkler.”

The figure stilled for a moment, turning its head up slightly. “You needn’t be afraid of me.”

“Yeah?” she retorted, slipping the gun from its holster; she raised it and took aim. “Turn. Around. And. Walk. Away. Last chance.” This time, the figure looked at her in the eyes and her lungs deflated at once, the hand holding the gun faltering as she breathed, “H—Hal?”

He descended to the ground and took a step towards her. “Not the Hal you remember. More so manifestations of what he once was. Thoughts. Feelings. The subconscious mind.” Standing in front of her, he gently placed his hand on the gun and pushed it down, so it wasn’t aimed at him. “I am the Spectre, The Spirit of God’s Vengeance.”

Her brows furrowed. “I beg your pardon? God’s vengeance?” she shook her head. “What does any of that have to do with you not being the Hal I remember?”

Spectre gazed at her, lifting a hand to touch her cheek; his fingers were frigid. “There is a part of me that is Hal. I feel him below the surface. I see the memories of your life together.”

She looked away. “It’s hard enough that everyone I’m friends with thinks he was a crazy murderer in the end. I don’t need to meet a copy of Hal to drive myself insane too.”

“Fair. But you must know that Hal was lucid of himself in the end. I know you do know.”

“Is there a purpose to this?” she asked, meeting his gaze. “My husband is dead, and his spirit is some avenging ghost now?”

He merely stared. “I needed a host to continue my purpose. Hal wished to atone.”

Her eyes softened at that and before she could help herself, she was raising her hands, cupping his cheeks, thumbs gently brushing over pale skin. They simply gazed at one another, his hands coming to rest on her forearms, a firm but comforting pressure holding her.

“I miss you,” she whispered, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “We all do at home. Me, Jim, Sue, Helen, all of our family and friends.” Stepping forwards, she curled herself against his chest and rested her cheek to his shoulder. “I don’t want you chasing vengeance for God, Hal,” she breathed. “I want you here. I want you to come home.”

Spectre shifted, one arm wrapping around her shoulders, the other cupping her cheek. “There are always those who must pay for their sins. Hal has not yet reached atonement.”

“How much longer until he does?”

“I know not.”

Glancing up, she met the face that was so foreign yet so familiar to her. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

“He does.”

She blinked the tears away, nodding her head. “I never gave up on him. Not even in the end.”

“He knows that as well,” Spectre replied, pulling away from her. “All the things you have left unsaid, he knows them as well.” His white eyes followed her. “And he loves you too.”

He rose into the sky, and she hurried to where he had been standing, head cocked backwards as she watched him fly higher. “Goodbye, Hal,” she whispered.