#dream: then the soldier and I together would make an 11

[valiantstarlights]

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 13.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: Since the Avengers are all gonna be doing their own thing with each group, I want to make sure to include everyone and introduce the rest of the avengers! Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 12

There were voices all around her, some familiar and some not. As her head pounded with pain, the soldier was unable to open her eyes. They were so heavy, feeling as though they were like concrete weights stuck to her face, and there was a sicky sweet scent wafting into her nose.

There was an oxygen mask stuck to her face, and though the soldier wanted to tear it off, her limbs were too heavy to really move. She could hear the Fist of HYDRA speaking to someone, but she couldn't place it. All she knew was that he sounded young and sounded worried.

But why?

'Nobody would ever worry about you. You're weak. You're nothing. I don't know what Doris saw in you.'

Doris? The woman from her dream? Why was she relevant? The soldier tried to open her eyes again, but she was unsuccessful still. Her body was too heavy for it to be normal fatigue. They must be drugging her.

"What do you want me to do if something goes wrong?"

The younger man was speaking now, sounding nervous, and if the soldier listened closely, she could hear the boy shuffling from foot-to-foot with anxiety.

"I mean, if she's a super soldier like you, wouldn't she be able to break through the webs?"

"Aren't they supposed to be strong enough to hold two halves of a ship together?"

The young boy chuckled nervously, asking in a small voice.

"Please don't remind me about that. That was almost the worst day of my life."

The Fist of HYDRA just sighed before he stated.

"You'll be fine. With how much anesthetics she's been pumped with, I think she will be too drowsy to fight if she does wake up."

But that wasn't true. She was a machine. A soldier. It was in her nature to fight no matter what condition she was in. Failure was not an option.

Her fingers twitched slightly as she tried to regain movement, and it seemed as though the two men didn't notice as she began to become conscious and aware.

"Didn't Shuri state that she had removed the programming? What even is the programming? All I know is HYDRA is, like, the worst."

As the Fist of HYDRA began to go into depth about what the Winter Soldier program was and how they did the programming, the soldier couldn't help but to pause as her eyes fluttered open.

"-If you began to show signs that you were remembering your old life, they would put you in a Mind Chair and pump as much electricity into your brain as they possibly can without killing you to erase those memories."

"That's...that's horrible. I'm so sorry."

The lights above her were so blinding that she had to squeeze her eyes shut. They opened again, and she sluggishly began to move, ripping the mask off of her face. The young boy who had been speaking seemed to gasp and jump up from the fright, his red and blue suit almost an eyesore to her pounding head.

"Bucky!"

The Fist of HYDRA immediately stood up, hands in the air as if to calm her down, and she had to hold onto the side of the bed as her legs became jelly.

"Все в порядке. Ты в порядке."

She felt nauseous, bile swimming in the back of her throat, and she gripped the side of the table so tightly that she bent it within the shape of her grip.

Standing up carefully, there was a brain fog that was clouding her mind. Things looked too bright; sounds were too loud, and her head began to pound. She stumbled slightly as she stood up completely, and she hissed out.

"Нет!"

The soldier groaned and fell to her knees, and the Fist of HYDRA bravely came to her side, placing a warm hand against her back as he knelt on the ground beside her.

"Все в порядке. Вы помните что-нибудь, что произошло после моего ухода?"

For some reason that the soldier could not understand, tears began to fill her eyes. She looked away from the man with shame, whispering as her shoulders began to shake.

"Voices....people...places...Что вы со мной сделали?"

She looked back at the Fist of HYDRA and she became guarded when she remembered that the boy in red and blue was here as well. He was keeping his distance, his hands raised in a strange position, and the Fist of HYDRA said gently.

"Shuri got rid of the HYDRA programming...or, at least most of it, I think. You're no longer under HYDRA's complete control."

The soldier began to grow anxious and irritated, her hand shooting up to grip the Fist's throat as she hissed.

"Who am I if I am not HYDRA?"

The Fist was calm, his metal hand gripping her wrist tightly, and she knew deep down that she would not win a fight with the Fist of HYDRA if it came down to it.

She never could.

"If you calm down, I can tell you. We found you, (Y/n). We found who you were before you were with HYDRA."

That name. Why was he calling her that name? The soldier gripped his throat for another moment before her hand relaxed slightly, and she whispered in a broken whisper.

"Эта красивая женщина - я?"

The Fist of HYDRA nodded, whispering softly.

"Yes. The pretty woman from your dreams is you."

Suddenly, the faceless mannequins from her strange dreams began to morph into faces, a beautiful woman greeting her by the record player and an angry sneering man yelling at her to get out of his office. The soldier began to feel sick again, and she whispered softly, crying.

"I don't understand. I...I....I'm malfunctioning...my programming is flawed. I...I need to be recalibrated...reprogrammed. I don't want to remember."

In a bout of bravery, the young boy in red and blue knelt to the ground, asking her softly.

"How come you don't want to remember? Don't you want to know who your family is?"

"My only family is HYDRA!"

She threw a metal table at the boy, who yelped and shot out some strange substance that clutched onto the metal and stuck it straight to a wall. The Fist immediately stood up, standing in front of the boy protectively as he urged.

"It's okay. It's okay, we're not going to hurt you. Peter's gonna say sorry, aren't you?"

The Fist gave the boy, Peter, a firm look, and Peter looked sheepish.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

He then leaned in close to the Fist, hissing in exasperation.

"She just threw a whole table at my head!"

"At least it's not a knife. That wasn't very fun either."

Peter's eyes seemed to bulge out of his head, and the soldier shook her head as the pounding became worse. The soldier couldn't deal with standing anymore, so she sat down on a metal chair and clutched her head.

"(Y/n)?"

A strange feeling filled her, and the soldier looked up with confusion. Why did he call her that?

"Who is that?"

The soldier winced as the lights became unbearable, and the Fist of HYDRA looked at Peter, asking him gently.

"Can you turn the lights down low for her?"

Peter quickly jogged to a control panel on the wall, dimming the lights just enough that the pressure within her head lessened. The Fist of HYDRA carefully sat down in front of her, saying as he slid over a file to her.

"We found out who you were, (Y/n). We found who you were before you were HYDRA."

The confusion and fear spilled from her eyes as she stared at the file; stared at the pretty woman in the picture on the front, and she whispered brokenly; sounding unsure as the words sputtered out of her chapped lips like a desperate plea.

"Ты мне врешь. I was born in HYDRA. HYDRA is my only family."

The Fist shook his head before he sighed and chewed on his lip slightly, trying to figure out a different way to approach the subject before he asked the soldier.

"Do you remember what I told you before you were reactivated about how my name was given to me before I was with HYDRA; About how I had a family before HYDRA kidnapped me?"

The soldier was struggling to remember, bits and pieces of the conversation coming to mind despite the difficulty, and she nodded after a moment. The Fist replied, his expression calm.

"You had a family and a name too. You had a whole life before you were taken by HYDRA and made into a Winter Soldier. Just like how my parents named me James, your parents named you (Y/n)."

Peter asked, mostly to himself, though the Fist gave him a dirty look.

"Wait, your first name is James? Why do they call you Bucky then?"

"My middle name is Buchanan."

Peter made a face of understand, and the Fist rolled his eyes. Settling his attention back onto her, the soldier felt her body tremble uncontrollably as his body seemed to loom over her. In her mind, she was becoming a speck on the floor; an insignificant piece of trash that deserved nothing while the Fist seemed to grow a thousand times taller. His eyes were angry; his lips snarling, and the soldier began to cry; covering her face and whispering softly.

"Please stop. I'll stop remembering. I'm sorry. There are...flaws in the programming. I need to be rebooted. I must be punished."

She began to ramble, the words spilling from her lips despite the voice in her head yelling at her that she must not speak unless spoken to. She does not deserve to have a tongue in her throat for speaking out-of-line. She must shut herself up and if she cannot, she must utilize her surroundings.

"Hey, hey, slow down. Breathe, (Y/n)."

The name sparked so much confusion; so much pain within her pounding head that she could not help but to scream, lashing out and throwing her balled fists wildly.

"Stop calling me that! I have no name!"

Suddenly, that same sticky substance that had attached to the table was wrapped around her hands. The force of being hit with the web smacked the back of her hand against the wall, and she tried as hard as she could to pull away. However, she was still too weak; too panicked to think clearly.

She became frustrated and upset, kicking at the bed and screaming loudly as the flesh of her hand began to pull painfully; the web stuck on like glue. Despite the pain, however, she kept pulling her hand; even when the webs finally cut deep into her skin and blood ran down her arm.

Arms came around her, making her scream louder; fear running through her scrambled mind. This was it. She was finally going to be punished. She had been out-of-line for too long. She'd been remembering too long. They were finally going to put her in her place.

"Hey, it's okay! It's okay. Listen to my voice. Listen to me. You're okay. Follow my voice, солдат. Вы не в беде."

Tears streamed down her scarred cheeks, and the soldier was hyperventilating. She was still struggling, trying to break free of his hold, but he was much stronger than her.

He had always been much stronger. Much better. Everything that she could not be.

'You're despicable. Even the Fist of HYDRA would do better than this. Shall I call him to teach you a lesson?'

"Мне очень жаль. Прости, Кулак ГИДРЫ! Пожалуйста, не делайте мне больно. Я буду слушаться!"

Bucky swore his heart had never shattered so hard before in his life. He remembered when his mother had passed away; Rebecca too young to really understand what was going on and why their mother wasn't waking up. His father hadn't even been home that day; too busy working that Bucky had to run for a neighbor.

He remembered being scared; confused and distraught about his mother suddenly passing and the way he just couldn't understand why. Why did his mother die? Why did she have to leave them so soon? How was he going to take care of Rebecca?

That weight that had settled on his shoulders had eased when he met Steve, but that side of him that had been jaded by his mothers death and the world and the ignorance of how to care for another human being...it truly never went away.

To hear the woman in his arms plea for The Winter Soldier not to hurt her...it was almost akin to death.

"What on Earth is going on in here?!"

Shuri's voice trilled through the air, and though (Y/n) was still thrashing in his arms, Bucky let her go as his arms fell; too shocked and winded to be able to function properly. Peter took over, webbing the girl completely while giving Bucky a concerned look, and though his mouth was moving, Bucky couldn't hear a damn thing.

Please don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me.

Fist of HYDRA. The Winter Soldier. That is who you are and who you will always be.

I'll obey!

Oh, god, Howard!

"James."

Bucky's head shook slightly as he was roused from his thoughts, and he was immediately aware of the lack of screams. Glancing down, he noticed that (Y/n) had been sedated and was completely out; webbed up and lying on her back on the ground. Her cheeks were wet, eyelashes dewed with tears, and Bucky could feel bile rising up in his stomach.

"James, I need you to focus on me, alright? Listen to me."

Shuri's voice was calming, but Bucky could only stutter out his words as the shock continued to blow through his body.

"I...I'm here. I just...I...I think I need a moment."

Bucky immediately made his way to the balcony outside the lab, breaking the door from how hard he had pushed it open, and when he got outside and around the wall, Bucky immediately braced himself against it and began to cry.

You can never escape HYDRA. Where one head falls, two shall grow back in its place.

You will always be HYDRA. Even if you escape, you will miss your time here. It will call you home whether you like it or not.

I don't care. He killed my parents.

He was hyperventilating; panicking. His hand was going numb; the tips of his fingers tingling, and he could feel the need to vomit growing. His skin was sheening with sweat, but Bucky only felt cold.

He felt the cryogenic frost crawling up his body and invading his ears and nose and mouth, and he slid to the ground, placing his hands over his head to drown out the sound of the screams; of Maria Stark's cries; of (Y/n)'s pleas.

"Um, Mr. Barnes?"

Peter's voice was gentle, though Bucky was still lost within his head. Peter shifted from foot-to-foot, unsure of what to do, so he just sat next to Bucky quietly. He stared at the ground and pursed his lips, a furrow in his brow.

Peter didn't really know how to deal with panic attacks. He could recite complex inorganic compound formulas like the alphabet and he could describe the Standard Model Lagrangian like it was another day...but Peter had never been good with mental health.

Hell, he wasn't really a star model when it came to mental health and had no room to talk, but seeing Bucky like this...to see that woman in the lab that had been so badly abused by HYDRA plea for her life...it was horrifying.

At least, it sounded like she was pleading for her life. Peter didn't really know any Russian despite Natasha teaching him a few words. Taking a deep breath, Peter spared a glance at Bucky, hearing the way his heart was starting to slow down a bit. He was patient, just sitting with Bucky quietly as the man began to come down from his panic.

Bucky's jaw clenched slightly before he looked down at the ground, wiping his eyes and cheeks, and he said softly as Peter glanced over at him with a caring expression.

"Thanks, kid. I'm sorry you had to see me like that."

Peter shook his head, replying carefully.

"Oh, it's not a problem, Mr. Barnes. Sometimes we...sometimes we need a friend, and sometimes we need to be a friend. It's what we do. We help people."

Bucky nodded carefully, muttering.

"I see why Steve likes you, kid."

"Captain America likes me? That's so cool."

Bucky snorted, and Peter chuckled in embarrassment. The boy then paused, looking nervous before he asked.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Bucky replied without missing a beat.

"Don't push it."

"Understood."

Bucky shook his head before he watched Peter get up and dust his suit off. Bucky was quiet, just observing the kid for a moment, and he turned his gaze away when Peter stated.

"I'll go back inside and check on her. I'm here for you if you need it, Mr. Barnes. Honest."

Bucky nodded, and he called after Peter before Peter could get into the lab again.

"Hey, Queens."

"Yes, sir?"

Bucky almost bristled at the way Peter called him 'sir' and instead retorted with a pointed look.

"It's Bucky. Mr. Barnes was my dad."

Peter smiled gently, nodding his head before he said.

"I'll make sure to remember that, Bucky."

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STORY NOTES: The soldier has woken up despite the anesthetics going through her body, possibly due to her heightened metabolism adapting and gaining tolerance to the drug, and she is aware that Bucky and another person are in the room with her, who turns out to be Peter Parker aka Spiderman. They are conversing on what to do if she wakes up, and Bucky makes a comment about the incident with the ferry in Spiderman: Homecoming.

Peter then asks about the Winter Soldier programming, in which Bucky explains the process and what it was and how they would take the memories of their subjects if they started to remember their old life. At this time, the soldier finally gets up, and Peter alerts Bucky. While the soldier is trying to orient herself, Bucky tries to comfort her, but the soldier is unwilling to accept comfort.

The soldier asks what Shuri had done to her, and Bucky explains that Shuri had removed most of the Winter Soldier programming that it would no longer affect the soldier. The soldier is distraught by the loss of her HYDRA identity, and she makes a comment internally about how if she wanted to fight Bucky, she wouldn't be able to as she never could, implying that she knew Bucky when he was the Winter Soldier as well. Bucky takes that time to introduce her name to her and let her know that he found her previous identity.

(Y/n) becomes distraught, and though Peter tries to ask her about her feelings and family, (Y/n) lashes out and tells Peter that her only family is HYDRA. She lashes out, and Peter uses his web to detain her. She suddenly has a lapse in her memory when Bucky calls her by her given name, and Bucky tries to tell her that they found out who she was before HYDRA again. He shows her the file, and (Y/n) is perturbed by seeing a picture of the woman she had seen in the mirror.

Bucky reaffirms to her that her name is (Y/n) (L/n) and she had a whole family before HYDRA, and she begins to panic so badly that she begins to hallucinate. Bucky calls her by her name again, and the soldier finally snaps, trying to lash out at him again. She begins to have a meltdown, and though Bucky tries to comfort her by holding her, the soldier has an auditory flashback of when she was told she was going to be punished by the Winter Soldier.

She begs Bucky not to hurt her, that she is sorry and she will comply, and Bucky is devasted. He recalls how he had felt when his mother had passed away, and he relates the feeling to (Y/n) begging him not to hurt her to the feeling of death. Shuri comes in, asking what is going on, and Peter finally completely webs (Y/n) when Bucky becomes too shocked to keep a firm hold on her.

Bucky begins to have a panic attack and exits out of the lab, and Peter follows after him to make sure that Bucky is okay. Peter thinks about how he doesn't really know how to deal with mental health properly and that seeing Bucky in such a state of disarray and hearing (Y/n) plead for her life was scary for him to witness.

Peter chooses to sit with Bucky quietly, and Bucky is thankful. Peter reassures Bucky that he doesn't mind helping him and asks if Bucky would like to talk about it, and Bucky tells Peter not to push his luck. After Peter tells Bucky he is going to check on (Y/n) and calls him Mr. Barnes, Bucky tells him to call him by his nickname, implying that they have further their friendship. End scene.

TRANSLATIONS

Все в порядке. Ты в порядке. - It's okay. You're okay.

Все в порядке. Вы помните что-нибудь, что произошло после моего ухода? - It's okay. Do you remember anything that happened after I left?

Что вы со мной сделали? - What have you done to me?

Эта красивая женщина - я? - That beautiful/pretty woman is me?

Ты мне врешь. - You're lying to me.

солдат - soldier

Вы не в беде. - You're not in trouble.

Мне очень жаль. - I'm so sorry

Прости, Кулак ГИДРЫ! - I'm sorry, Fist of HYDRA. (This translated directly as "I'm sorry, HYDRA Fist")

Пожалуйста, не делайте мне больно. Я буду слушаться! - Please don't hurt me. I'll obey!

TAGLIST: @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10

[writefightandflightclub]

Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Nine (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but will you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running? 

Genre: a LOT of angst, (some) smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings, here. Please note this series is 18+. Minors or ageless blogs interacting will be blocked.

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule is here (includes series master list). 

Author’s note: Shorter chapter this week (be warned, next week's will be the heftiest yet), but I hope you like this next instalment! It's really gearing us up for the FINAL TWO! As always, I would be super grateful for any comments / reblogs / asks you may wish to send my way. If you've read this far, THANK YOU! ILY :-*

Word count: 3.8k for this part. 

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to taglist if you are 18+. Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :)

Today is a new day. It’s a new day and you’re done crying. You’re done holding on to anger and resentments. 

Besides, you feel as though you gave Santiago everything you had last night, and - at least for now - there is nothing else left to give. 

So, instead of wallowing, you plod downstairs to where Frankie is stationed in the kitchen, offering up your favourite pastries, coffee, and even pulpy, freshly squeezed orange juice. You pull up to the breakfast bar, hopping up on a stool to survey your extravagant pity platter. 

It’s true then. “He’s gone.” 

Frankie nods solemnly, leaning into the other side of the island like he’s a sympathetic bartender in some old Western flick. He claps his palm to your shoulder in a supportive gesture. “I’m sorry, chiquita.”

You shrug. 

His face twists. That’s not all there is. “Don’t shoot the messenger, but…”

“What, Frankie?” 

“He had to bounce but he didn’t want to wake you. Said you looked far too peaceful sleeping for him to come along and fuck that up.”

Your brow notches, absorbing all of that with a contrived neutrality. “How did he… seem?”

Frankie’s eyebrows raise lightly as he ponders, thinking back over prior events. “Calm, actually. Happy, even.” 

“Hmm.” You smile softly to yourself. Makes a change from lately to hear that. You get it though. After last night, you can’t feel anything else either. Even if he technically didn’t say goodbye in words, you get it. You aren’t mad. Chances are one or both of you would have fucked it up this morning. This way at least, it leaves the night you spent together untarnished. Makes it feel like holding on to a good dream, before the realities of the day can set in and make things fraught. 

Frankie’s face crumples with concern as you gaze wistfully into the middle-distance. “You gonna be alright?” 

You pump your eyebrows. Search yourself for feelings. “You know what? Yeah. I am. I’m okay.” 

Frankie’s eyes glint playfully then. “Oh. So you won’t need alllll o’ these yummy pastries?” 

You laugh as he eyes the pain au chocolat pointedly. “Get stuck in, Morales,” you invite fondly, and he obliges, scraping up a stool and wiggling on his ass until he’s comfy. 

“Hey. So,” he says through mouthfuls. “Did you two figure anything out?” 

You groan at the sheer complexity of Frankie’s simple question. Did you? Or are you still going around in circles? “We know we love each other. The rest? Uh. I still don’t know.” 

“He’ll get there.” 

You puff air out from between your teeth. 

“You don’t think so?” Frankie interprets. 

You wrap your arms around your middle. “It’s not that. It’s… I don’t think it was all on him.” You don’t have any blame or accusations left. No grudges to hold on to - your hands are open. You’ve both made mistakes. Manufactured this distance, in your own ways - sometimes literally, sometimes not. You were both just trying to figure all this out as best as you could. 

Frankie’s brows notch and rise with a silent question. How so? What do you mean? 

The thoughts form as you speak them. Clumsy yet intrepid. “I guess... It just feels like we were… Both waiting for the other person to get somewhere, you know? But this whole time, we should’ve been heading there together. Otherwise, how the fuck were we supposed to know where to end up?” You slide a palm over your face. “Christ. Does that make any fucking sense?”

Frankie ponders. “I think so. Like trying to meet on the highway without a time or a place or directions?” 

You reach out and clasp his hand. “You get me, buddy.” 

Frankie blinks, tangling himself up further in your metaphor, but valiantly trying to muddle through. “And so… do you…?” He scratches his chaotic mop of hair. “Do you have a map now? A meeting point? I mean… What happens next? On the highway?” Your mouth lilts into a gentle smile at Frankie’s earnest question. He notes and feeds your amusement, going off the deep-end with this metaphor now. “Are you driving in shifts, chiquita? Grabbing cheez-its for the road?”

You laugh, the musical sound mingling with Frankie’s throaty chuckle. “What happens next?” You repeat the question out loud, carefully, posing it to yourself. Hasn’t that always been the question? However, the very sentiment which used to scare you now feels a lot more like potential. Like possibility. 

Still, you feel -for the moment- like leaving that question hanging. You leave a pregnant pause. You let it breathe. 

For now; you let it go. You let him go. 

“Where are the other guys at, anyway?” 

Frankie rides your tangent with ease. “Packing shit up.” 

“We should help them.” 

“Yeah, we should,” Frankie grins mischievously, and yet neither of you make any effort whatsoever to mobilise. 

Instead, Frankie pours you a cup of coffee from the pot. 

“You wanna call off the hike today?” he asks hopefully, Frankie increasingly a creature of comfort. 

“No. Hell no. I need to move.” You lock your fingers and stretch your arms above your head, a satisfying stretch extending down your spine. 

Frankie’s eyes sparkle across at you. “Just not in aid of helping the Millers pack their trunk, huh?” 

“Exactly! What did I tell you, bud. You get me.” 

You do though. You need to move. You need to move forward. No more standing in place. No more moving in circles, always repeating. 

Still, when you think about it. When you think to what is ahead, to what is next, your stomach drops. You feel overcome by a sudden anxiety which you can’t place at first. Like having misplaced something dear to you. Like having done something wrong but not being able to recall exactly what. Then, all of a sudden, you understand it entirely. 

“Listen. Tell me about this job, Frankie.” 

He immediately tenses up. “What job?” 

You take a bite of your pastry. “The one with Lorea’s cash house.”

Frankie simply groans. He always knows more than he lets on, this one. About everything. Everyone. 

“Is it true? That you and the boys are in?” 

You can plainly see his reticence to respond. But you know for a fact that he’s about to cave. 

5, 4, 3, 2, 1. 

“They need a pilot,” Frankie states, looking up at you with guilty, puppy dog eyes. 

“Fuck me. He dragged you back in too, huh? You know… Sometimes I wonder if any of us are good for each other.” Your tone grows mildly irate, your heart quickening, but you recognise it for what it is. It’s simply anger veiling worry. You love these boys. 

“Come on, don’t say that,” Frankie bargains. “We’ve dragged each other out of hell.”

“And back again.”

Frankie takes a deep breath. His tongue pokes around the meat of his cheek. “He says it’s simple recon. In and out. No mess.” 

You jut your chin up. Stare at him levelly, unblinking. You know that Frankie will give it to you straight. Know that he can’t help himself. “And you buy that?” 

5, 4, 3, 2, 1. 

“Not for a fucking second.” 

You scoff, shaking your head. Not when it comes from Santiago, no. After all, you’ve fallen for Santiago’s bullshit plenty of times yourself. It’s the fact that Frankie would wander in with his eyes wide open to it that really gets you. It’s something else. 

Still, before you can chastise him for being so stupid, Frankie glumly offers up some explanation. “Look. I need the job. I… I got my license revoked.” 

Your heart drops - and your face with it. Your hands clamp over your mouth. “Frankie,” you say softly, with empathy. “Fuck.”

He hunches in on himself despondently, his hands disappearing up his sleeves, his fists clenching and his gaze cast downward. “I fucked up, man. Cassie has a baby on the way and I fucked up.” His eyes swim with a deep shame. 

“Coke?” you venture, tentatively.  

5, 4, 3, 2, 1. 

Slowly, he nods. 

“Frankie.” Your hand swipes over your face, and your eyes fill with concern for him. His palm waves in the air, however, quickly dismissing any sympathies you may care to bestow. 

“I’m back on track. Getting there. I am.” His eyes are nothing but determined. Sincere. “But I need this gig. No matter how fucking hare-brained a scheme that pendejo is cooking.” 

“Think of the baby, dude.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Frankie says forcefully, in a harsh tone he rarely uses, and you know in no uncertain terms that the conversation is done. That he’s made his mind up, and that he won’t hear you out any further on the matter. 

You swallow. Regroup. You chew on some platitudes, but none of them feel quite right. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Frankie says after a stretched, tense moment. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” 

“It’s okay,” you jostle his shoulder, and it shakes a little of the tension from him and the room. “I get it. And shit. I’m sorry for putting all of my bullshit on you this weekend. I wish you’d said something, Cat.” 

He shrugs. Speaks with finality. “There’s not much to say. It’s done. I just need to make it right. And I will.”

“I believe it. But you do know that I’m… If you need… Anything, Frankie.” 

He looks up at you then, the warmth back in his eyes as your voice cracks, searching for the words. But, he already knows everything you could ever say. You’ve said it before, a hundred times. He knows you love him. Knows you’re proud of him. Knows you’d do anything for him. Knows you want the best for him. He knows it already. 

In turn, you are sure that he already knows everything you could possibly call him out on. That he’s already thought about it. Weighed it up. Thought about the risks. About the possibility that he’s acting out of desperation. The possibility that he’d probably be better off staying the hell away from Pope’s schemes. 

He scrapes his stool back and comes to you, bundling you into a tight, warm, big brother hug. You tug in a deep breath, and you let it go. You’re done trying to control everything around you. It never really got you anywhere. 

Still, there’s an undeniably uncomfortable knot in your chest as you think about them all gearing up. Strapping on their tac vests. Shoving clotting pads into their med packs. It makes you feel physically ill. And so, you can’t help yourself. “Do me a favour, Frankie? Don’t take Tom?” You muffle the words into his shirt, half hoping they will get lost there. That maybe he didn’t even hear you. But, you know when he braces his hands on your shoulders to get a good look at you, that your game is up. 

“Why not?” 

You see it then, in his eyes. That Tom is not a risk Frankie has considered. His presence not something he has weighed up. 

You deliver your words as plainly and transparently as possible. “He’s too hungry, Cat.” 

Frankie simply locks eyes with you, as though trying to weed out your motives. Shrewdly trying to assess your conclusions. Is this just your petty vendetta talking? Is this intelligence? Is this coming from your gut? 

“Please. Just trust me.”

“I do,” he nods eventually, but you should know better than to feel any relief. And next, there it is. “I do but it’s not my call.” 

Well. You’ve said your piece. You guess that’s all you’ve got. Absent-mindedly, you tug on Frankie’s lapels. “You’d better come back to me, Cat,” you plead plaintively. “And by God, you’d better bring those other fuckers back with you to boot.” 

With a wistful affection, Frankie tugs you to him again and you stand there in silence for a few more moments, the sounds of the other guys evident in the background. In time, you and Frankie release each other and gravitate towards them, tucking yourselves under the porch to survey their efforts packing up the trucks. 

“We should probably help,” you repeat again, and, to your side, your hear Frankie’s murmur of agreement. However, when you glance to him you see his long, lean frame stretched out up against the wooden porch post. He looks like a man with nowhere else to be in a hurry.  

“Fuck,” he curses at nothing in particular, surveying the animated bodies of his buddies before him with both awe and trepidation. “How did we get here? Years of service and none of us have anything to show for it.” 

That’s a Santiago sales pitch, through and through, you reckon. You recognise his propaganda. Funny, since he used to swallow the flag for breakfast. Is that how he got to him then? Convinced Frankie he could finally make bank? Take what he deserved? Ah. Or give his family what they deserved? Frankie is all about family. 

A sad smile twitches your mouth. “Well. That’s not entirely true, is it? Not nothing.” You think of what you’ve gained from all of this. “I got a gaggle of weird ass brothers. A suitcase full of trauma. A fucked back. And! An array of unhealthy coping mechanisms.”

Despite the darkness of your statement, Frankie’s eyes crinkle. What else is left to do but laugh, anyway? “Maybe Will should put that in his speech.”

You belly chuckle at that, moving to lean up against the opposite post. “Yeah. Scare those poor recruits off before they can end up like us, huh?” 

Frankie looks wistful again. “It hasn’t been all bad.” 

No. It hasn’t. He’s not wrong about that. 

You ponder on it. If you could go back and change your path - would you? But, despite everything, your squad would be far too much to lose. “Sure. The weird thing is, as shitty as it’s been at times? I wouldn’t change it for the world.” 

There is a beat, and Frankie reaches out across the space between you and wordlessly clasps your hand. 

“Listen. You gonna be okay, Frankie?” He looks down at his worn sneakers, contemplatively, as though he really doesn’t know the answer yet. You give his hand a squeeze, trying to let him know that’s okay. “We’ll talk more, okay?” 

He nods - a subtle, concessionary thing, like maybe he could really do with that. 

“I get why you didn’t tell me. But I’m sorry. That I didn’t do a better job of asking.” 

“It’s not on you,” he says generously. A little too generously, in your estimation. You’ve been rather wrapped up in your own shit. A little too self-involved. “I know I can talk to you. I just… I, uh. Didn’t want to ruin the weekend.” The irony of that statement causes a throaty chuckle to bounce in Frankie’s neck, and your palm slides over your face in regret even as you laugh in reciprocity. 

“Christ. I did a great job of that all by myself.”

“Well,” Frankie says good-naturedly, shifting to bump your hip with his. Wrapping his crooked arm over your shoulder. “You had some help.” 

It is your turn now to look wistful, as you contemplate the storm that is Santiago, and all the rubble he left behind. “He’s really gone again.” Frankie simply squeezes you a little tighter. “Hey. Anything else I should know, by the way?” you needle. “You’re not holding out on me?”  

Frankie sucks air through his teeth. “Tom and Molly. She finally served him papers.” 

You fold forward, hinging to collapse your upper half onto the porch rail. “Fuck. Shit. I really need to start being nicer to that shithead.” Still, from behind, Frankie’s familiar chuckle buoys you, even as you inwardly berate yourself for getting wrapped up in your own business. “We’re all messes, huh, Frankie? Do you think we can fix it?” 

“Yeah. Yeah. I do.” 

“Truly?” 

“Truly.” 

You toss him a soft, grateful smile, which extends as Will makes his way over to your position, greeting you “Hey, slackers!”. You and Frankie share a conspiratorial glance. 

“All set for the hike, Captain?” 

“No thanks to you.” 

“I had an alternate mission. Ranks of pastries to deplete.”

Will feigns tiredness, but his baby blues sparkle even as he rolls them. 

“Anyway. Didn’t need you. All set to head out as soon as you slackers get your act together. You wantin’ to do the usual route, hon?” 

You brace your arms against the porch rail. Dig your fingers into the wood. “No,” you say, the words a little tight in your chest, but they feel good. “Not today. There’s somewhere else. Somewhere I always wanted to go.” 

Somewhere new. 

“Fine by me,” Frankie offers. “Just let me grab more pastries.” 

***

You relish the hike, when it comes. You relish walking a path that is -to you- entirely untrodden. That he can’t touch. You walked the old, familiar trails for too long, and the only place it ever got you was right back where you started. 

The bullshit ends here. You’ve decided. 

And so, you turn your attention away from your sun, and to the wider constellation of stars around you. To yourself. 

You even do your best to make peace with Tom. To put old grudges to bed. 

You relish the hike. Enjoy the undulating landscape. You don’t know for sure what’s next, or where you’re going, but the difference is that for once, that feels okay. Full of potential. 

You walk until your legs burn, and when you get to the summit you take a moment to drink in the crisp, clifftop air. To look out across the ocean. To see it from a distance and to know that this time, it cannot break you over and over and over. 

Still, when you’re at the top, as if by providence, Santiago texts you. 

“Hey. Sorry I had to take off early. I wanna say… Thank you.” 

“For what?”

“For the best night of my life.” 

“Ah. Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, and you press the button to call him. You immediately call him. He immediately picks up. “Hi.”

”Hi. What’s up? They just announced my gate.”

”That’s okay, I’ll be quick. I, uh. I just needed to tell you too. Thank you.”

“For what?” 

“For a proper goodbye.” 

“Look, I’m sorry that I-”

“-I’m not mad, Santi. I think… I think we said everything we have to say, right? I think it was…”

”…Perfect?”

”Yeah. Yeah, pretty perfect.” 

“Listen. It’s selfish, but. With everything coming up. The Lorea job and… I needed it, you know? Needed that image of you sleeping.” 

There’s an ache in your chest and it’s bittersweet. 

He cares for you in every way he knows how, doesn’t he? In every way he can. He’s not perfect, but hey, neither are you. You’re both a little bit broken, but that doesn’t mean you can’t heal. And most of all, it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love while you’re doing it. 

One day, he’ll turn up at your door, and he’ll be welcome. Whenever that is. Whenever it happens. But until then, you can’t just wait for him. 

Until then, you’ll love him; from a distance. 

No longer can you leave him in anger. No longer can he break you. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

Maybe one day, that will even be enough. 

“Would you promise me something?”

“Sure.”

“Come back and visit soon, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I promise.”  

You conclude the call, and you stretch your arms above your head. A pleasant tingle snakes down your back as it cracks. You haven’t felt so relaxed in a long time. You don’t think you’ve ever felt such peace. 

The path that you are walking is yours, and you implicitly trust where it’s taking you. 

***

You are grateful to slip into the passenger side of Frankie’s car, beginning the drive back to the city and signalling the end of your stay at the beach house. Still, there is something bittersweet there too as you leave behind the site of so many memories from over the years - and now, the site of your most perfect night with Santiago. 

It reminds you of all you’ve been through. The ups and the downs and plenty of things which went sideways. You are starting to realise though, that perhaps the landscape of love is undulating. That sometimes the terrain is tough. It shouldn’t have been quite so tough though - so steep and unforgiving; and so, you hope for gentler, easier paths ahead. 

It is bittersweet then, as you leave this place behind. 

As you look forward, having said goodbye. As you wrestle with your past, future, and present. 

Frankie swings the car out and onto the highway, the Millers up ahead and Tom behind, your vehicles forming a convoy through the dark, the glow of headlights illuminating the route ahead. 

You sit in silence, eyes and thoughts unfocussed, in abstraction, as you watch vague shapes and colours slipping by the window, your own face occasionally reflected right back at you. You look older than you used to. More tired. But you don’t dislike that. 

After a while, Frankie’s robust voice slices through the dark, his eyes on the road and hands threading the wheel. “I don’t know if this will make things better or worse but… Do you want to hear it?” 

You swivel your head towards him, fractured, liquid panels of light slipping over the planes of his face as your surroundings pass by in a haze. “Hear what?” 

“Pope’s heartbreak playlist?” 

Your hands dig into your thighs where they rest. “Do I?”

“Well?” Frankie asks, his finger poised over the button, and evidently not willing to make that decision for you. 

“Yeah. Fuck it.”

You brace a little, in all honesty. A tightness takes hold of your chest as you wonder if the first track to befall your ears might be angry. Resentful. Full of blame or sadness that you can’t hope to wrestle with and come out on top. But, as the first notes of the track sound out, you are surprised to find a full, unfettered laugh rises from out of your throat. The tears swell in your eyes next, for it is nothing if not bittersweet. 

“That dickhead. I can’t believe…” 

You can’t believe it. The fact he has chosen a song which reflects your life together? Which reveals a happy memory? 

He loves you, doesn’t he? He has for a long time. And you can’t help but hope that maybe one day, that will even be enough. For tonight though, it will definitely do. You’ll take it. You’ll treasure it. 

“Whiskey in the Jar,” Frankie scoffs as he catches on to the song, even if his fingers are drumming against the lip of the wheel involuntarily. “I mean. What the shit’s that all about? He’s a weird kid, I swear.” 

“Frankie,” you laugh brightly, turning once again to look wistfully out of the window, as the view of the beach house and the ocean recedes into the distance. You catch another glimpse of yourself in the pane, and this time you look younger, you think. More alive. “Did I ever tell you about that night in Philadelphia?”

[ghostwise]

if you like, 11 or 12… ;—;

11. for encouragement Thank you Jay! I thought this prompt suited this scene from Lace Harding's romance in Act 2, and I wanted to zhuzh it up anyway, perfect opportunity 🥺

A soft blue glow washes over most of their interactions as of late.

He’d noticed it when they’d first fessed up to it: Is there something happening between us? I’m not just imagining things, am I?

She’d worried about making things awkward. But he’d only smiled and leaned in closer.

Lace Harding, I have never seen the like from you. You do all things with grace.

And there the first hint of blue.

That glow had spread through her ever since.

It was in her eyes, in her freckles, making the constellation of Lace Harding light up like a night sky. He could coax it out with a joke or a honeyed word. Lirio found it lovely, like many things about her. And to think, all this time, he’d been to blame!

Or at least, that seemed to be what she was trying to explain to him. The truth of how and why she activated her lyrium when they were together.

“I just want to make sure I’m hearing you right. Are you trying to say you lose control of your powers—when you’re feeling affectionate?”

“O-oh,” Lace stammered, blushing brightly. “Don’t make fun.”

“I would never,” he said, and he hopped up to sit beside her on the table.

Lace gasped at his nearness, and scooted away at once.

Lirio looked at her. He could see that this had been bothering her since their kiss. He liked to think he’d gained an understanding of the matter that was her heart; the heart of a shepherd turned scout turned soldier.

She was a woman who felt things deeply, who acted with intent when something mattered to her. No doubt she felt it was her responsibility to fix this.

But she didn’t have to do it alone, and he wanted, desperately, to show her this.

Lace sighed. “Lyrium is the blood of the Titans…” she said carefully. “If my heart’s beating, and my blood’s racing around… but then wouldn’t it happen at other times, too? Running from Darkspawn! Climbing… stairs?”

“Stairs?” Lirio asked with a chuckle.

“The steps are harder for me! I’ve got short legs!” she expressed desperately.

Lirio covered his scarred mouth, suppressing warm laughter.

“It’s not funny, Rook!”

“I like your short legs,” Lirio said, and quickly piped down. “I’m sorry, my love. How can I help?”

“No, no,” she groaned. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For… I don’t know. Snapping.” She sighed, frustrated, then, continued, distracted. “Did you just call me ‘love’?”

He held her gaze and nodded. Her glow returned, with a vengeance.

“Emotions,” she whispered. “You do these things to me, Rook.”

“Well if I had lyrium-blood, I’d be glowing too,” he said, and that, at least earned him a smile.

Anyway, it wasn’t a bad thing, her glow. It was part of her now. He liked the entirety of her; the gestalt of what made Lace Harding. He liked her quirks, and her giggle, and her voice when she was reading the goriest lines out of her favorite book, and her furrowed brow when she was aiming her bow.

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” he prompts suddenly, needing to know.

“That I want to kiss you,” she said at once. “And it crushes me that I can’t.”

Lirio nodded slowly. “Close your eyes, Lace.”

She did. Her eyelids, dappled and long-lashed, veins all aglow, fluttered shut. After a moment, he reached for her necklace, the cornicello he had gifted her to help with her dreams. With utter care, lifted the little charm of red coral to his lips.

Lace’s eyes blinked open. He let the charm go, allowing it to fall against her chest once more.

“We’ll handle this, Lace. The way we handle everything else. Together.”

She nodded. Her eyes flicked across his features, and lingered on his lips for a beat.

“Together,” she whispered, and kissed the charm he had kissed.

[take-a-cchonce]

My New Masterlist

1. Don't Forget Where You Belong (Series for Wordplay) (T)

Ghost AU

Harry and Louis own a Bed and Breakfast on the summer island of Liset. When they host Niall, an investigator, they realise there's more to the Island, and their property, than they thought.

2. Get Out of My Kitchen (E):

part 1 and part 2 (the smut)

“Get out of my kitchen,”

Harry quickly stalked over, poking his finger into Louis’ ribs. “Lou, you’re- I’m trying to cook over here. Out of my kitchen. I mean it. Out. Take the whole bloody block of it if you must but don’t-”

“Your kitchen, huh? Say that again,” Louis challenged, tilting his head to the side, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Read on AO3 

3. You Control Me (Call This What You Like) (1doff) (E)

The one where Louis almost leaves his mic on while cockwarming Harry <3

Read on AO3

4.  If You Like Causing Trouble Up in Hotel Rooms (E)

The one where Harry makes Louis wear a buttplug throughout the whole day on his LATAM press tour.

Read on AO3

5. The Little Things You Do (1DLibrary exchange) (G):

“What’s that supposed to mean, then? I’m romantic, aren’t I?!” His voice went up an octave with indignation and Harry couldn’t help but giggle at the offended look on his face.

Harry sat back up from where he was snuggled up with Louis, careful to not spill any of his wine onto the older man as he leaned forward to peck his cheek. “Sure you are, Lou,” he grinned.

Read on AO3

6. He's An Angel (1D Folklore Fest) (G):

What might be the oldest enemies to lovers story, loosely based on a folktale from my part of India <3

Read on AO3

7. I Put A Spell On You (1D Teamwork Fest) (M):

With @elmeiko88 <3

Come and discover Harry, our big-hearted witch, and Louis, our shifter cat. Zayn, our Guardian and Liam, his golden retriever. And of course, not forgetting Niall, who pole dances ;)

How their paths crossed, how their paths have always been linked...

Read on AO3

8. One Life For The Two of Us (miniseries for BMV) (M)

A WW2 AU fic with military doctor! Harry and Soldier! Louis

9. Let Me Be Your Last First Kiss (BMV Fest) (G):

Soulmates AU -

There was one boy in particular, with rectangular glasses and a beanie pulled down over his hair who caught his eye, gesturing extravagantly as he boomed out the lines to what sounded like Grease in front of a small group gathered appreciatively in front of him. 

10. When I'm Fat and Old (BMV Fest) (G):

Louis shares his dreams of them growing old together <3

11. It Was Always You (BMV Fest) (G):

But standing here, in the urinals, of all places, Louis would have put his hand on a DVD of Grease and sworn to it. 

He was in love.

12. Dress Me Up (T):

Louis was just doing his best to protect the neighborhood. Getting injured wasn’t the plan. Harry gets worried and just wants his husband to feel better. Fluff ensues.

Read on AO3

1. I'd Follow You To Any Place (G):

Niall Horan x Harry Styles

“I do,” Niall hummed, placing his chin on Harry’s shoulder, his heart racing a little faster at how the words sounded, as silly as it was. “We’ll go there someday too. Wanna dive there with you. Dive in all the places with you. Hell, I’d dive in that enclosure with you,” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder to a corridor winding away.

OR

The one where Niall and Harry are on vacation in Bali <3

2. Hope We Grow Old, But We Never Grow Up (BMV Fest) (G):

Niall Horan x Zayn Malik

Three glimpses into a snowed in day with Ziall!

3. I Always Knew (for 1dAstroficfest) (G):

Niall Horan x Harry Styles

A little glimpse into Niall and Harry as dads!!! <3

Kind of sort of continued from I'd Follow You To Any Place

[beekissies]

HI BEEE!!! 🍓, 🍈, 🍐 and 🥬 in the infodump game..... for arthur... i know youre bored so im sending you a lot.... 🦭

THANK U SO MUCH..... I OWE U MY LIFE..... I WAS GONNA START CLIMBING INTO YELLOW WALLPAPER OR SOMEHTING .....

ask game here!

🍓 - disregarding the career your f/o currently has, what other career would they consider going into, if given the chance?

he was initially a soldier but he talks about wanting to get a distillery going And eleanor says that he has a dream about opening a pub ^_^ so probably that !!!

🍈 - does your f/o believe in fate? do they thing everything is preplanned out by the universe or a higher power, or do they think that the idea of fate is bogus? why?

it doesnt seem like he does!!! during the quest where hes introduced its kinda implied that they cant be saved because it was fated or whatever . but the "true" ending to that is all of them surviving Together ^_^ and after the quest he talks about having to continue to fight against the tide. so if he Does, he probably sees it as likeeee. something not great and something worth resisting (aka the main bad guy of the arc probably, since complacency could be kiiiinda similar to indifference which is what it Is and probably also what it Wants)

🍐 - does your f/o have any nervous ticks or idle quirks they do? like mindlessly tapping on a desk or fiddling with their hair when they're stressed?

ummm. sword spin is the first one i can think of.... it makes a really satisfying sound actually even if hes doing it on my HARDWOOD FLOORS!!!

🥬 - what are some beige flags your f/o has? so, not bad, but not nessecarily good either. just. "oh. you do This."

answered here but i have more!!!! he doesnt like boyband music but likes really depressing folk songs about being so sad that ur girlfriend is dead that ur disrupting her eternal sleep (quincy says hes good at it tho so hes gonna slay at lorens filipino family karaoke nights). he forgets that he can just text his telepathic sister so she doesnt read his mind. he says stupid shit like jaffa (A CRICKET TERM) after killing a guy. he doesnt like to be reminded that hes the younger twin also actually. AND ALSO eleanor's birthday is on nov 2 and hes on nov 3. in my head theyre an 11:59pm -> 12:00mn situation (LOSER!!!!)

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

E Rated Fics Masterlist (24)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21/ Part 22 / Part 23 /

Created: November 18th, 2023

Last Checked:----

The Quiet Game-quietprofanity (ao3) Summary: In the silence, Katniss and Peeta find a space where they don’t have to remember. Written for kink_bingo. Prompt: “Silence.”

The Road Not Taken-merciki (ao3) Summary: Life is about choices. The ones we make. The road we don't dare taking. Can Katniss and Peeta find their way back together ? A modern day AU

The Sacking of Persia-therebelliondies (ao3) Summary: Peeta is a lonely, damaged soldier in Alexander the Great’s army and they are a day away from taking the Persian city of Persepolis. How much can his life change when he meets the young native girl, Katniss, during the army’s pillaging of the great city?

the sharp knife of a short life-atetheredmind (ao3) Summary: When Katniss’ mother dies, she finds an unlikely friend in the baker’s son. A look at Katniss’ life in D12 had her father lived. AU. Written for Prompts in Panem Day 1.

The Space Between-OfPearlsAndShoelaces (ao3) Summary: On the train. In the dark. Hands wander. Emotions run high. In the dubious world between sleeping and waking Katniss and Peeta find a new source of comfort in each other and blur lines between fantasy and reality. Written for the Dream!Everlark Prompts in Panem challenge on tumblr. Day 5: tongues.

Tres Leches-JennaGill (ao3) Summary: Peeta Mellark insists that coworker Katniss Everdeen try his sugary concoction.

Trouble-pookieh (ao3) Summary: Prompt: In light of a real-life experience that happened with Court, Katniss and Peeta find a way to pass the time when chaperoning Prim and Rue at a concert

Tryst-papofglencoe (ao3) Summary: Katniss pays a late-night visit to Peeta prior to the Quarter Quell Reaping. Canon-divergent. Mature for graphic sex and explicit language.

Twelve Nights-ashyblondwaves (ao3) Summary: It was never a question where Peeta would be sleeping for the rest of the tour. Since he ran in here that first night and climbed into bed with me, I can’t imagine it any other way

Underneath-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: This one shot was written in response to a tumblr everlark prompt: during the victory tour katniss’s skirt gets caught on something at one of the events and rips off entirely. [her underwear or lack thereof, other details and most importantly peeta’s reaction and if they have sex all up to you]

[steampunkforever]

my hot chris nolan take is that he clearly wants to make high concept espionage/action movies but his own imagination limits him. that one line from inception where tom hardy tells joseph gordon levitt to dream bigger or whatever. except dreaming bigger is replacing a gun with a bigger gun. the whole big brother NSA plot from dark knight + batman using CIA gear to extradite a Chinese national (????). whatever the hell tenet was about except the climax was just different colour soldiers shooting at each other. oppenheimer was solid because it was about a real guy who real things happened to so you can't muddle it with half cocked scifi.

Honestly in my opinion this is a bit of a mid take, but not incorrect about Nolan's spy movie inspirations and aspirations. He's a man who has gone on the record with almost every film he's made saying "I really really like James Bond."

The swing and miss here is that the Batman NSA big brother bit and CIA extradition plot are clearly Nolan responding to the question of how a Modern Superhero (read: post-9/11) would operate in the world of the Patriot act. I don't know if you can remember a pre-Snowden leak existence but the "my FBI agent reading this" memes didn't used to be a thing.

I'll talk a bit more about the Global War On Terror and the greater Nolan filmography under the cut.

The Dark Knight, The Dark Knight Rises, and to a lesser extent Batman Begins (the movie where the villain weaponizes terror through a biological agent targeting public transit) are in fact interesting explorations of the modern superhero during the GWOT.

I don't think the spy thriller parallels are unfounded here, but you have to remember how prevalent international terror threats, mass surveillance (Patriot act!!!) and covert operations to Get bad guys who were sheltering in places that refused extradition to the US were in the public eye.

I'll admit I enjoyed tenet (you can read my filmpost on it) but the goal of that film was less about making a good movie and more focused on making a movie that's also a palindrome. Even so you've gotta admit having the climax of the film be a bunch of different colored guys fighting each other is exactly the sort of vintage Bond film nonsense you'd expect out of a guy who was too into Bond Movies, and not a symptom of unimaginative writing.

I'm not going to sit here and give you the clearly stated Watsonian explanation to your Doylist critiques of Inception, but will simply say that I don't think Nolan makes scifi pseudo spy thrillers out of a lack of imagination rather than a surplus of budget. Nor does he continually make chronologically obtuse films because he's forgotten how to do anything else inasmuch as Warhol didn't keep doing picture of soup cans because he was out of ideas.

Even if the scifi is half cocked, the movies are still good, to the extent that most of the Nolan film haters I'm seeing recently are having to reach all the way to flimsy postcolonial lit crit in order to find any excuse for not watching his films. Even Tenet hits, despite its sacrifice of quality and coherence in order to more closely resemble a sator square.

Oppenheimer was solid because Nolan got to do whatever he wanted and overindulge (to the detriment of the film in some places) and also because Nolan likes making good movies. I'm sure his latest attempt at squeezing the entire red carpet at Cannes into one film will be no different, but I'll have to wait until The Odyssey comes out before making any solid judgements.

I don't need to defend the man, his art speaks for itself and if that doesn't do it for you there already exists a horde of fanboys that don't know any other directors exist. That said, I think we've had enough of the Nolan spectacle for a minute. What he really needs to do is get $17M and finally put together that high concept spy thriller he clearly wants to make. I think it'd be good for him.

[mayvora]

how about 11?

!!!

For me this song associates with an au I made uhhh a few months ago? Three or something? Can't say that the plot matches the words exactly but I don't really care I go with the vibe. And the vibe is battle until our bones are turned to ash because not even Death can bring us down!! Woo!!

So!!! It's a little "end of the world" AU, very much inspired by Warcraft III: Reign of Chaos because I am obsessed. This au is about the forces of death trying to destroy all living, and few armies of living creatures are giving their last fight, fighting for their last hope. While Geminitay, daughter of the Sun, and Pearlescentmoon, daughter of the Moon, are creating a magical trap together to (hopefully) destroy the Lord of their enemies, other survivors must hold the forces of death long enough for the two priestesses to finish their trap.

This one is kinda about everyone? I enjoyed just. Creating little snippets in my mind about who would hermits be in this magical world, what was their life before Death Legions attacked, who they loved, who they lost, you know?

I love the story of Tango, little engineer goblin, who always dreamed to make something big and crazy and cool... War took the opportunity from him, but he never stopped dreaming and while he is making war machines he still thinks about his dream of creating a dungeon in the old abandoned caves he once found... He works tirelessly all day and then at night thinks again and again about all the silly traps he can make and the creatures he can get there... He is crazy tired and nervous before a battle - and he calms himself by thinking about a labyrinth in his dungeon... Or !! Woah!!! There is a piece of cloth on ground (old and dirty and in holes) imagine!! Just imagine!!!

And he sews up all the holes and washes it carefully in the river and gets some redstone and draws all night when he should rest. Draws the design for the banner for his dream creation. He is all grumpy and tired and weak tomorrow but he wears his creation like a cape and everytime he looks at it he gets a new burst of energy that he uses to do his important machinery management work. A man who lives with the power of his dream!!

Tango joined the forces of "fighting evil Death Legion" at the very start, when they just started their invasion and not many people took them seriously. He is The Master of his job, his engineering is highest level, some of the very important battles were won because of his machines. He is very respected and treated like a hero by other soldiers, but for Tango. Well. He is just a guy! A guy with a dream! And that's what keeps him fighting.

I can keep talking about this au,,, about other characters,,, if anyone wants to heaaar,,,

!! This yapper is not very good with english, but he is trying his best! Be nice < 3

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Bright Like The Moon: Chapter 11

Chapter 11: I Got Soul, But I’m Not A Soldier 

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Fandom: Night Hunter 

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Black!OFC  

Word count: 3K 

Summary: Kamaria Mansfield is hired at the Minnesota Police Department as an intern. Detective Walter Marshall is overworked and unsatisfied. Takes place post-film. 

Chapter Summary: Kamaria’s attackers are sentenced. Walter devises a plan. 

Chapter warnings: a teeny bit of court stuff (sentencing), angst, panic attack, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), p-in-v sex, creampie

A/N: I AM NOT A LAWYER, nor do I pretend to be one. I did a little research(pray for my search history), and that’s it. Suspend your belief a bit here, folks. Un-beta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers: @firefly-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me, model for Cover Art credits 

Cross-posted on AO3 

~*~Spotify Playlist~*~ 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Kamaria’s POV 

One Month Later 

I never wanted this whole thing to end up a mini-circus. 

But that’s basically what ended up happening in the few short months since my abduction and assault.  

From the plethora of therapy appointments that both Walter and I have attended to the meetings with my legal team, I thought I was already bogged down with talking about what happened to me.

I told myself that no matter how many times I wrote it down or said it aloud, there was always going to be this piece of me that felt as though I could step right back into that nightmare but I wouldn’t allow myself to. 

I had done so much work to crawl out of that hole and I’ll be damned if I put even a toe back into that deep, dark space ever again. 

But the moment Walter and I stepped into the courthouse today for sentencing, I could barely hold myself together. I knew I would have to see Justin again, which wasn’t great but it wasn’t horrible. He was just another victim and if not for him, I would’ve never got the chance to escape. I might have never seen the love of my life ever again. 

I don’t owe him anything, I know that. It doesn’t make it feel any better knowing he’s going to be facing jail time. And it all stemmed from his involvement with a man who turned my life upside-down. 

Lloyd Hansen. 

His face haunted my dreams. His words haunted Walter. And his actions changed our lives forever. I wanted him to be tortured in some far-off dungeon where no one would be able to hear him scream. I needed him to feel broken, lost, and alone.  

I knew the judge wouldn’t give him the death penalty but I would have loved to have seen him get a lethal injection of Pavulon, potassium chloride, and midazolam. I fantasized about the midazolam failing to sedate him. Maybe the Pavulon kept him immobile while he felt the suffocating feeling of fluid in the lungs. And the potassium chloride without a sedative? The lava slowly tearing through his veins would be unimaginable pain. 

But that daydream would never come to life. I mean, all he did was kidnap and rape me. Let’s not get started on the unfairness of the American legal system. I could be here all day long. 

The uncomfortable wooden bench under me wasn’t enough to distract me from where I was. Walter in my ear with soothing words didn’t stop me from staring at the back of Lloyd’s head the entire time. My worry about what they would do to Justin didn’t stop me from feeling like he deserved to be punished. He still acted in my worst interest whether or not he thought he was doing some version of the right thing by helping me escape. 

I barely pay attention until the sentencing is read. Walter grips my hand tight and I focus my energy on watching the two men stand before the judge to get their lashings. I could tell he wants to bury Lloyd, and he feels somewhat sad for Justin but he would not let it sway his judgment. I take a deep breath and listen as their fates were decided. 

Justin is sentenced to 16 years with the possibility of parole for drug possession and being an accomplice to kidnapping. He cries loudly as the officers take him away. 

Lloyd is sentenced to 70 years without the possibility of parole for criminal sexual conduct in the second degree, rape in the second degree, and kidnapping in the second degree. He smiles, looking back at me to wink before he is taken away. 

Relief was too small of a word for what I felt. It was more like liberation, emancipation, or deliverance. The massive weight of anxiety fell off of my shoulders as if it wasn't glued to me for the past few months. 

My eyes become blurry with unshed tears, I try and blink them away but they fall down my cheeks before I can stop them. Clearing my throat, I try desperately to calm myself but nothing works. I hiccup, my breathing stuttering as I fail at stopping a panic attack from starting. 

Before I know it, Walter is ushering me out into a small room just outside the courtroom. His hands are on my face and he is speaking slowly and clearly, knowing my brain is catching up to the here and now. 

“It’s over, Kam. We never have to see those bastards again. You’re safe with me.” He kisses my forehead and my breathing slows as if it was a button to be pressed, “Are you here with me?” 

I hear his question and look up into his eyes, “I wanna go home. I want you to help me forget all about this. I just wanna be with you and not think about anything else, please?” 

“Of course, Princess.” No sooner are the words out of his mouth is my hand in his and he is walking me out of the room. 

We speak shortly with my attorney, or rather, Walter speaks for me as I'm still a bit in shock at everything. Once hands are shaken and goodbyes are said, we make our way out of the courtroom and out of the courthouse.  

We make it to Walter’s truck and as I get in, I realize how hot he looks in a suit. As he walks around the front, he pulls off his blazer. The way his dress shirt clings to his strong back, wide chest, and defined arms has me salivating. Inside the cab, he notices me staring. 

“What?” He nervously chuckles and his eyebrows shoot up. 

“You clean up nice, you know? I mean, you are sexy in a suit.” I can’t believe I was so anxious this morning that I didn’t notice how the blue in his tie brought out his eyes. 

A pink hue colors the tips of his ears and his neck. I just made Walter Marshall blush. As if reading my mind, he looks around before his eyes come back to me. Biting his lip, he shakes his head. 

“Princess, we are not fucking in this parking structure. As much as I want to bend you over the bed of this truck and fuck you until your moans are bouncing off of the cement walls, I’d much rather have you in bed or the couch or the dining room table.” 

“But Daddy, I want you.” My hand slides over my thigh and underneath the skirt of my dress. 

“You think I don’t want you, babygirl?” He takes my other hand and places it over his hardening length, “I want nothing more than to be inside you. But I’m taking us home first.” He starts the truck and moves out of the spot, starting us on the road home. 

“Yes, Daddy.” I concede, my fingertips touching the gusset of my panties where a wet spot is forming, “Daddy, can you drive with one hand?” I try and get him to touch me in one last hopeful effort. 

Without looking away from the road, his right hand comes to rest on my thigh and gives it a good squeeze. Slowly moving between my legs, he cups my pussy and then moves a single finger up and down the front of my panties. 

He presses a finger in til he feels my clit and rubs there a bit. My moans fill the cab of his truck and I lean back in my seat. Sliding his finger down, he moves my panties to the side to feel the evidence of my arousal. He removes his fingers and sucks them into his mouth before returning them to my entrance. Pressing in, he is welcomed by my wet heat. Starting a rhythm, he oscillates between steady strokes and clit stimulation. 

Before long, we are close to home. During the final stretch of streets, he slows down right as I could feel my orgasm approaching. 

“Fuck, you are absolutely soaked. Poor little pussy really needed some attention. Just hold it for a little longer baby. I’ll let you cum soon enough.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” I moan, my brain tries to keep up but it’s just too flustered with a pre-orgasmic stupor. I don’t even notice that we make it home and are in the driveway until I feel his fingers slip free.  

He reaches his hand up to my lips and I suck them dry, tasting myself on his thick fingers. He grips himself through his slacks and takes his hand away. He looks me up and down then exits the truck. Walking around the front, he keeps his eyes down, unbuttoning his cuffs and folding them up those veiny forearms. Once he reaches the passenger side, he helps me out and closes the door behind me. 

With a giant paw wrapped around my hand, I am being led into the house quickly. As soon as the front door closes, Walter lifts me off my feet and wraps my legs around his waist. Walking the distance to the bedroom, he reaches a hand behind me to unzip my dress. 

He puts me down in the bedroom, and my dress pools at my feet. He kneels to help me step out of the dress. My bra and panties were the next to go. I stand in front of him in a simple pair of black heels. 

“Any objection to the heels staying on?” He asks, letting a new fetish be known. 

“No, Daddy,” I murmur, suddenly struggling to keep myself together given that he is fully clothed and I am in my birthday suit. 

“Good. Sit down and open those legs wide for Daddy, Princess.” His hands roam from my ankles to my inner thighs before he kneels between my open legs.  

Walter’s POV 

Using my thumbs to open her outer labia delicately, I'm pleased to see her honey dripping. She was so worked up in the truck and this poor little pussy is ready to burst. 

But not yet. I’m going to tease it first. 

I gather some of her juices on a finger and swirl it around her clit, but I never quite make contact with the swollen bundle of nerves. I kiss her inner thighs and nip at them which always makes her groan and I am once again showered in her sex noises. She has the best fucking sounds. From her words to the sounds her body makes, it’s all beautiful. 

I move my finger to circle her entrance and slip in slowly. Her hands go to her breasts, she knows I haven’t given her permission to touch me yet. She also knows that grabbing my hand will only stop my movements. But she is always allowed to touch herself while I’m taking care of her cunt. 

Her tight heat envelops my finger and I move in and out of her folds. It’s torturously slow and I can feel her body trembling with the anticipation that I’ll either speed up or add another finger.  

When I don’t do either, she wiggles her hips and whines. The quick slap to her clit has her remembering to use her words. 

“Daddy, can you please use two fingers? Please? I need it,” The sound of her begging is music to my ears. 

Instead of answering, I wet another finger in her nectar and slide it in slowly to let her adjust to the thickness. The immediate squeeze around my fingers is mind-blowing. I can feel her inner muscle on my fingertips and I massage it gently, but not enough to let her cum. 

Leaning in, I circle my tongue around her clit as my finger did before. Only this time, I relent and give her clit sharp flicks with my tongue. She’s putty in my hands and that’s how I like it.  

All she needs is me, and all I need is her. 

I take her nub into my mouth and suck it gently, still tonguing it ever so gently. With the mix of her in my mouth and on my fingers, it’s not long before my cock is hard as a rock and pressing against the front of my boxer briefs. 

I squeeze myself through my slacks and go back to eating this delicious pussy. I decide she can cum and I speed up my fingers and suck her bud harder. The moans that flow from her signal that she is close and I relish the change in the room when she finally lets go. 

Curling my fingers, I continue to stroke inside her as she rides out her orgasm. Giving kitten licks to her clit as her hips wiggle, no doubt feeling very sensitive. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that the more sensitive she is, the harder her next orgasm will be and I wanna feel that one on my dick. 

With my fingers still inside her, I stand up and unzip my slacks and pull out my painfully hard length. Pulling out of her warmth, I use that hand to stroke myself. I watch her as she watches me use her cum as lube.  

Moving her up the bed, I climb in. With one hand on her stomach, I use the other to position myself at her entrance. Sliding home, I groan at the sensation of her core molding to my girth.  

It is always so surprising that it never gets old. I love that first moment of being inside her. Letting her adjust to my fat dick for a moment, I pull back and push back in. I hold both of her thighs open so I have full range to fuck her. 

Pushing her legs back as far as they will go without hurting her, I start a punishing rhythm. The slap of our bodies moving together is a symphony. The movement of her breasts and stomach reminds me of an ocean wave ebbing and flowing. This woman is perfect, inside and out. 

Letting go of her legs, I lean down and kiss her passionately. Holding her close, I continue to fuck into her. In this position, I can stimulate not only her G-spot but her clit as well. 

It’s not long until I feel her breathing hitch and feel her pussy fluttering around me. Her moans turn into sobs as her orgasm takes over her. I grind my hips into hers and help her to stretch it out. 

I get back up on my knees, my hands on either side of her head. I look down into her eyes for a moment and resume kissing her cervix with my tip. She throws her head back and I take the opportunity to kiss and suck at her neck. Leaving lovebites behind isn’t usually my style.  

But anything goes today. And she is gonna have to try and cover up evidence of my love. On her espresso skin, I have to suck very hard to leave a mark. Challenge accepted. 

Her hands are in my sweat-slicked curls before long and we reclaim eye contact. Something in her eyes draws me in and pretty soon, I am fighting to hold off my orgasm. 

Just like she always does, she comes to my rescue. 

“Daddy, I need your cum inside me. Please cum for me?” Her big brown eyes pierce through me like a fucking bullet and I’m done for. 

“I’m gonna cum for you, Princess. Fuck! Ugh,” With one last press forward, my balls tighten and I shoot my load into her greedy little snatch. I feel like I’m cumming for what feels like a full minute. 

I stay inside her, attempting to regain control of my body and my brain. She strokes the hair at the nape of my neck and I kiss over the already bruising spots on her dark skin. When my softening cock slips from her, I sit back on my heels to look at my handiwork. 

Her swollen pussy is leaking with my spend and I feel that swell of pride inside me. She’s nice and full because of me. I unconsciously rub at her stomach as I watch my jizz leak and I feel her hand on mine. 

She just smiles at me as I look into her eyes. There is something behind that smile, but I don’t have enough brainpower to work through it right now. I lay next to her and pull her into my arms. I listen as her breathing evens out and she falls asleep shortly after. 

Looking down at her, I wipe my thumb across her brow and she stirs a bit before settling back to sleep. I smile and try to get my brain to work, but it’s to no avail. She’s wiped me out and I couldn’t be happier. 

There are a few things that would make me happier. But all in due time. I figure I’ll start small and work my way up. 

Step 1: Ask her to move in with me because she already basically lives here. 

Step 2: Ask her to be my wife because I already made up my mind that she is the love of my life. 

Step 3: Ask her to make a baby with me because she’s so great with Faye and seeing that belly of hers swollen with my child would make me so happy. 

But I will worry about all that later. We can take our time with everything. Neither of us is very keen on rushing things. But one thing is for certain. 

We want to spend the rest of our lives together. That’s what matters. 

Chapter 12 (coming soon) 

A/N: Welcome back to my story. Haven’t posted since June. I missed my babies. Songs for this chapter are All These Things That I’ve Done by The Killers and Streets – Silhouette Remix by Doja Cat. 

**Tag List** 

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @enchantedbytomandhenry @astheskycries @rebelangel1102 @deandoesthingstome @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @foxyjwls007 @rosiesluv7 @livisss @slut4henrycavilll 

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁 

[twicesonnet]

AO3 Wrapped: Writer's Edition

Big thank you to @cheesenames for tagging me!

Words written this year: 43,374

Works written this year: 7

Work Most Proud of: learn to kill — it was my first time publishing fic in Luke’s voice, and I thought I had a real command over the setting and atmosphere in it, plus was able to do all the fun stuff with their characters when they don’t know they’re related. also, the writing is good!

Work with Most Hits: good soldiers— this makes sense since it’s the only multi-chapter fic I wrote this year. the data is skewed! learn to kill has the highest kudos.

Fav title: not the crowd, not winning I love to use a song lyric that really works for all aspects of the fic, this one is from Big Thief’s “Not”

Pairing You Wrote the Most For: technically Leia/Han, with two fics, but its pretty background in sleep for the dead. I tend not to write very consistently for any one pairing. it’s startling to me that I only wrote two femslash pairings this year, usually that number is a lot higher

What Work was the Quickest To Write: not the crowd, not winning. I think I wrote it all in an afternoon.

What Work Took You Longest To Write: probably Return to the World After the World which is crazy because it’s a rare pair fic in a fandom that’s been both dead and deeply problematic since 2019.

How Many WIPS do you have for next year: I’ve got something for Slow Horses in the can, and also the last chapter of soldiers

Longest Work of the Year: good soldiers

Shortest Work of the Year: meeting place

Fav character to Write: Leia Organa is my favorite most beautiful and complicated and just and tragic character in all of star wars. her smoking hot pragmatism, intelligence and stubbornness are the cog many of my fics revolve around and I’m never going to get tired of writing her

Which work of yours have you re-read the most: maybe a day in the sun ? or Return to the World After the World — again something I wrote basically only for myself (and apparently 11 other ppl)

- 17. Total Kudos, Total Hits, Total Bookmarks This Year, Total Subscriptions This Year: yeah, I'm also not feeling compelled by the stats questions

What Do You Listen To While Writing: Various ambient albums on YouTube. Aphex Twin. The fabulous Masayoshi Takanaka, with one of the best john williams jazz covers in existence, Turkish Electro Funk Güzel Mix 1 and 2, Boards of Canada, Andor Niamos Theme 10 Minute loop, etc.

Fav line or passage: this is hard! my first thought was this passage from a day in the sun, a modern AU where Padmé’s just died, from Sabé’s perspective. it gets crazy guys you should read it.

Padmé and Tsabin had talked many times as ostensibly agnostic children of atheist parents (nonpracticing Jews for Padme, lapsed Catholics for Tsabin) about becoming nuns together. They both knew so little— it was a fantasy of cloistered forests, marble and incense. Old books. And time alone, unwatched, with each other. Religion smelled like Padmés hair after a long day in the sun together, and mint from her parent’s tiny brownstone backyard. It did not smell like whatever this is. Death, probably.  She sits in the front pew in the little chapel. The polished dark wood is slippery under her dress. She tips her head back and closes her eyes. She wishes sometimes she felt protected or calm in places of worship. She felt awe once in those big European churches, when her father took her to England when she was young. But awe was not a gentle emotion. She feels something like it now, like being immersed in a cataclysm of dark water. Muted. Afraid.  She wants it to be a dream so badly. She would give almost anything for it to be a dream. 

Any mutuals who feel so called should give this a shot! But here are some people off the dome @kleyamarki @bettyxrosex @linearao3

[tapperhet-em]

11

Just a tad bit of fluff amongst the tension...

"How are you holding up, Meer?" Einar’s hands gently held her face between them as he looked in her eyes.  He was worried, not just about her physical safety, but her emotional well-being.  The entire ride there he’d be afraid he wouldn’t see those beautiful eyes of her again.

"I've been better, Einar.  I feel better now you're all here." Her arms encircled his waist as she drew closer. "Especially you.  It was no less dangerous for you three than it was for us.  I was worried." Meeri swallowed as her emotions threatened to well up from deep within.  Looking up into his eyes she felt like she could drown in their grey depths without ever needing to breathe air again.   Leave it to her to pick the absolute worst timing to declare her feelings for him, and vice versa.  Even if there had always been that bond, now it was real.  It was really real.

"There wasn't anything going to keep me from you.  Not tonight, not ever again, Meer."  His head dipped to catch her lips with his, not caring if the others walked back in or not.  He'd waited years for this and he'd be damned if he waited longer, especially after her declaration back at the garrison and just then. 

The kiss was slow, emotion filled, and deep.  Neither of them were in any hurry for it to end, even if both knew it had to.  The SUV did need to be unloaded and they would have more time later.  Even if neither of them said it, they were both thinking it. So, it was with that in mind that they both pulled back to look at one another once more.

"Keep that thought for later soldier, but our friends could use some help.  Don't want to press our luck.  You know Lo, not a sentimental bone in that soldier.  Well maybe a tiny one, he did give us a few moments.  We might owe him one." Meeri couldn't keep the smile off of her face as she brushed her lips over his once more, relishing the feel of being in his arms and being able to be open about how she felt about him.

"Now, Princess, if you think that there is anything on this earth that could make me forget, I'll have to show you later how wrong you are." Einar ran his nose along hers, keeping their foreheads together, and fighting getting lost in another deep kiss.  If it weren’t for the threat to her life, he’d think this was some kind of dream to finally be with her just like this, forget anything more.  But there was that threat, which unfortunately he couldn’t forget anymore than he could how much he wanted to just be like this with her for as long as they both could stay awake.

"I'm going to hold you to that." She teased him, suddenly feeling butterflies that she never had before with him.  It was a feeling she’d never had with anyone.  But then Einar had always been the one that could make her blush with just a look and her heart race with just a touch.  

"I hope you do." He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose before stepping back and then heading out to help the others at the SUV.  As he walked out he couldn't help but wonder how the day had simultaneously been one of the worst and best of his life. 

[glcriouspvrpose]

ｐｌａｙｌｉｓｔ ； ｌｏｋｉ ＆ ｔｈｏｒ

( @strongestavengerthor )

→ full spotify playlist

01. don’t let me down -  the chainsmokers & daya ; i need you right now, so don’t let me down now. i think i'm losing my mind now.

02. the great war - taylor swift ; and maybe it's the past that's talking, screaming from the crypt, telling me to punish you for things you never did ... my hand was the one you reached for all throughout the great war.

03. brother - kodaline ; though we don't share the same blood, you're my brother and I love you that's the truth .... if i was dying on my knees, you would be the one to rescue me.

04. poison and wine - the civil wars ; i don't have a choice, but i still choose you.  i don't love you, but i always will.

05. long live - taylor swift ; long live the walls we crashed through, how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you.

06. fix you - coldplay ; but if you never try, you'll never know, just what you're worth. lights will guide you home and ignite your bones and i will try to fix you.

07. matilda - harry styles ;  you talk of the pain like it's all alright, but i know that you feel like a piece of you's dead insidе. you showed me a power that is strong еnough to bring sun to the darkest days.

08. running up that hill - kate bush ; and if i only could, i’d make a deal with god. and get him to swap our places.

09. sparks - coldplay ; but i promise you this, i'll always look out for you.

10. my tears ricochet - taylor swift ; i didn't have it in myself to go with grace, and you're the hero flying around, saving face ... and i can go anywhere i want, anywhere i want, just not home.

11. mirror - justin timberlake ; if you ever feel alone and, the glare makes me hard to find, just know that I'm always parallel on the other side.

12. better than myself - adam lambert ;  i could never leave your side no matter what i say.

13. marchin’ on - onerepublic ; there's so many wars we fought here's so many things we're not but with what we have, I promise you that we're marchin' on.

14. safe and sound - taylor swift ; i remember tears streaming down your face when i said i’ll never let you go, when all those shadows almost killed your light.

15. fine line - harry styles ; you've got my devotion but man, i can hate you sometimesI don't want to fight you,

16, eyes open - taylor swift ; yesterday we were just children, playing soldiers, just pretending, dreaming dreams with happy endings, in backyards, winning battles with our wooden swords. But now we've stepped into a cruel world,

17. dear reader - taylor swift ; burn all the files, desert all your past lives and if you don't recognize yourself, that means you did it right.

18. thunder - imagine dragons ; i was lightning before the thunder.

19. i see fire - ed sheeran ; if this is to end in fire then we should burn together.

20. someone to you - banners ; and if you feel like night is falling, i wanna be the one you're calling, because i believe that you could lead the way.

[apricitywinterswrites]

📑 Feveruary Monthly Event Fics Master List

This is my 'Master List' of Feveruary Month Event Fics that I did throughout the Month of February!

All the Prompts are listed below, along with what day there were for. With them are the titles of my fics, linking to my Tumblr posts promoting them, and every Tumblr Post has a link to the fics on Ao3!

Event is run by @feveruary here on Tumblr <3

I made a music playlist based on the song's I used for inspiration for each fic, here's the Spotify one, and the Youtube Music one. Enjoy!

Also, here's the link to the series on Ao3 for anyone who wants it!

Main Prompts List!!

Day 1: "How did you end up like this?"

I Didn't Want Trouble, I'm the Boy in the Bubble (But Then Came Trouble) The one where Tommy grows wings while in exile and Philza and Technoblade just also happen to be planning and staging a rescue. Neither expected, nor planned, for an appearance of wings... or Tommy latched onto the closest person for comfort.

Day 2: Burning Up Then Freezing Cold

And Now He's so Devoid of Color He Don't Know What it Means The one where Tommy wakes up sick with a fever. His family are more than happy to take care of him; even if he sleeps through most of their care. Fevers are Exhausting, you know.

Day 3: Caught in The Rain

So Much More to Bleed, It's Like Bitter Defeat (It Can Feel Like The World is Nothing More Than Disease) The one where Tommy and Techno wait out a storm before continuing to explore for a new location. Of which, Tommy runs into a little trouble (with an ambiguous / open ending).

Day 4: Herbal Remedy

In My Recovery I'm a Soldier at War (In The Sound of The Sea, In The Oceans of Me) the "Or, or" summary

Day 5: "Could you just hold me?"

Would You Rescue Me When I'm by Myself? (When I Need Your Love, if I Need Your Help?) the "Or, or" summary

Day 6: Spoon-Feeding

In Doctor's-Office-Lighting, I Didn't Tell You I Was Scared (That Was The First Time We Were There) the "Or, or" summary

Day 7: "I'm still not used to being taken care of."

What's The Point of Holding on Like This? (When No One Seems to Care if I Exist) the "Or, or" summary

Day 8: "Couldn't you keep your cold to yourself?"

It's a Quarter After One, I'm All Alone (And I Need You Now) the "Or, or" summary

Day 9: Face Masks (Alt Prompt this one, maybe)

You Forgot To Smile, As I Passed You By the "Or, or" summary

Day 10: "You're safe, it was just a dream."

All These Voices In My Head Get Loud (I Wish That I Could Shut Them Out) the "Or, or" summary

Day 11: "You're burning up!"

Hold Onto Me 'cause I'm a Little Unsteady the "Or, or" summary

Day 12: Role Reversal - Medic to Sickie

I Don't Need The Wind That's Underneath Your Wings (You Don't Need To Be The King) the "Or, or" summary

Day 13: "I wouldn't even trust you to boil tea in your condition!"

Will You Still Listen To My Call (Who Do You Trust Or No One At All) the "Or, or" summary

Day 14: Falling Asleep In The Wrong Place

I Lost A Friend (Somewhere Along In The Bitterness) the "Or, or" summary

Day 15: Guiding Sickie Back To Bed

He Runs Because He Knows He Cannot Hide the "Or, or" summary

Day 16: "Is it me or is it really warm in here?"

But Until Then, Hold Me Together (Hold Me Together) the "Or, or" summary

Day 17: "I know you want to help but you're only making things worse."

A Tragedy Tapped On My Shoulder And Said, Hello (And It Took My Soul) the "Or, or" summary

Day 18: Delirious

The Blood Is On My Hands (I Don't Know Who I Am) the "Or, or" summary

Day 19: "I know ice cream is good for sore throats but that's way too much!"

Well I'm Just A Boy With A Broken Toy the "Or, or" summary

Day 20: Lost Voice / Strep Throat

I Told Them I'll Be Singing On TV (The Other Kids Were Calling Me A Wannabe) the "Or, or" summary

Day 21: From Better To Worse

And Someday We Are Gonna Make It Out (How Do I Say Goodbye?) the "Or, or" summary

Day 22: "Our date can wait! You're far more important!" (Mayhaps alt Prompt this one)

Never Saw It Coming, Now I can't Relax (I'm All Hypervigilance, Under Attack) the "Or, or" summary

Day 23: "You need a tissue?"

This Night Is Cold In The Kingdom (I Can Feel You Fade Away) the "Or, or" summary

Day 24: "Don't you think you should stay home today?"

They Say Family Is All You Need (Someone To Trust Can Help You Breathe) the "Or, or" summary

Day 25: Standing Vigil

Ripping All The Skin From Off My Bones (I'm Prepared To Sacrifice My Life I Would Gladly Do It Twice) the "Or, or" summary

Day 26: "You sure I'm sick? Because I feel fine."

I Refuse To Lose Another Friend To Drugs (Just Come Home, Don't Let Go) the "Or, or" summary

Day 27: Vacation Disaster

One Day Turned To Three, Then Three Into A Week the "Or, or" summary

Day 28: "Well, it sounds to me like you need a little bit of TLC."

I Thought I Was Okay But Then I Guess Not (Hope You Know That This Is Your Fault) the "Or, or" summary Purpled is sick and Tommy is messing / joking around.

Alt Prompts!!

Forced to Work

Cool Wash Cloth

"I don't get sick."

Sneezing Fit

[uniquejellyfishqueen]

He poisoned the well, every man for himself

So she became “The Man” because “they say all’s well that ends well, but I’m in a new hell every time you double cross my mind.” She says “X marks the spot” twice in getaway car… double cross..?

H e double hockey sticks..

Hell

851212 6/13

6/13/2024 was the 100th show in Liverpool, during the surprise song set she said “I can do it with a sniffly nose.” A play on ICDIWABH.

*it was also at this show that she confirmed that the tour would be ending in December. “This is the first time I have admitted to myself out loud that the tour is ending in December”

*it ends with us was released on 8/9/2024 Blake said it was a good movie to go see with “friends.” Which is funny since her husband is in the movie “Just Friends.”

*the screen also “Glitched” during “Mastermind” 18 13 (added together it still equals 13.)

1/18-1/23/1813 The War of 1812

*thats silly on TVD they flashback to 1912.

1/24/1813 The Philharmonic Society is founded in London

1/31/1813 The Assembly of the Year XIII is inaugurated in Buenos Aires.

*shows 58-60 were played in Buenos Aires. 11/11 was the first mashup performed and included end game. 3/7 surprise songs sang those nights were 1989. 2 from the vault.

2/11/1812: Construction begins on Fort Meigs in Ohio

*located at 29100 W River Rd, Perrysburg, OH 4355. With a total of 10 acres. The British Army supported by Tecumseh’s Confederacy, failed to capture the fort during the Seige of Fort Meigs. Also on 4/8 Colonel James Ball arrives with 200 dragoons.

3/1813 the Malta Plague

4/27/1813 US troops raid and destroy but do not hold capital of Upper Canada, York (Modern Day Toronto.)

*2nd to last city. 1st city in Canada. (12). This tour stop also has 6 shows. 12/6 is 2 days before tour ends and the 1st show in Vancouver. (12 again)

9/4/1813 The name of Germany’s national card game “scat” appears for the first time, in the gaming records of Hans Carl Leopold von der Gabelentz (don’t call him Gabe)

9/10/1813 Battle of Lake Erie

10/24-11/5/1813 Persia and Russia sign the Treaty of Gulistan at the end of the Russo-Persian War, by which Persia loses modern-day Georgia, Dagestan and most os Azerbaijan to Russia.

11/11/1813 Battle of Crysler’s Farm.

11/21/1813 An independent government is formed in the Netherlands

12/8/1813 Ludwig van Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7, together with his Wellington’s Victory, are premiered in Vienna. For a benefit concert for Austrian and Bavarian soldiers.

*12/8 is the last day of the tour

*the three Vienna shows were cancelled due to a terrorist threat.

Those shows were #127, #128, and #129.

She is in Vancouver for the last stop on 12/6, 12/7, and 12/8

#128 12/8

12/7 is N2 in Vancouver and 12/8 is N3… thats 3,2 mirrored. Exile ends in 3…2… and there was only 1 city that she completely had to cancel.. and on top of that Billy Joel was seen recently at a show wearing probably the best choice of shirt possible “We Didn’t Start The Fire.” I think it’s dope when artists wear their own merch, they aren’t afraid to show that they are proud of the work they have done. And that song is so important to history.

12/8 mirrored date of 8/12 happy anniversary C&M… holy shit

C 3

A 1

M 3

3AM.

You picked your wedding date on purpose!!!

Midnights letters added up equals 58 which equals 13.

But mirrored is 85, like 1985 perhaps? Her dreams went out the door when she turned 24…. Ya I’d say that hits a nail on the head. “She hates time, make it stop”

12/8 is also National Christmas Tree Day— Christmas Tree Farm

National Take it in the Ear Day— on 7/13/2024 Donald Trump was shot in the ear in PA during an assassination attempt.

Ahh there it is

12/8/1861 happy birthday William Durant (founded GM and Chevrolet. He died in 1947)

*Kevin Durant comes to mind especially since this day in history the NBA ended their lockout- he and Monica Wright end their engagement 3 years later.

12/8/1872 American Mormon leader Brigham Young marries his 55th and final wife, American poet Hannah Tapfield.

*I can’t Drive 55..?

*is this why she is flashing 55 during the 22 set?

12/8/1980 John Lennon died in NYC, or did he..?

How in the hell were there 4 aircraft crashes on this day in history? Even one was struck by lightning. And one struck an apartment complex. This world has been a dumpster fire.

12/8/2006 Scott Baio marries Renee Sloan

*I know a girl with a daughter that has that name. She’s also a KC fan. Has a dog named Kelce too.

12/8/2007 Tim Tebow, Florida QB wins the 73 Heisman Trophy Award

12/8/2011 After a 161 day lockout that shortened the season by 16 games the NBA and players union reach a financial agreement.

12/8/2013 Metallica plays a show in Antarctica sponsored by Coca-Cola Zero. Making them the first band to perform on all seven continents.

12/8/2019 was the first confirmed case of COVID-19 in China

*or was it another plot to take out the LGTBQ community just like 38 years prior?

Okay so there will have been play 149 shows total

This equal 14

There were 3 shows that were cancelled

143 I love you “3 words, 8 letters, say it and I’m yours” OMG SHE IS WEARING YELLOW AND GREEN IN THIS SCENE. I’m also still bummed that Gossip Girl wasn’t Blair’s maid.

3/14

Pi day

Dribble to work day - “you know how to ball”

International day of mathematics

Learn about butterflies day

Save a spider day- “spider boy, king of thieves.”

Write your story day

3/14/1879 Albert Einstein DOB

3/14/1883 Karl Marx DOD

3/14/1932 George Eastman DOD, he invented and founded the Eastman Kodak

3/14/1946 Ernest Hemingway marries Mary Welsh- Mary’s Song?

3/14/1950 FBI’s 10 most wanted fugitives program begins.

3/14/1958 the first ever Gold Record is awarded for sales of a million copies to Perry Como for Catch A Falling Star.

3/14/1967 the body of JFK is moved to a permanent burial place at Arlington National Cemetery.

3/14/1972 Carly Simon wins best new artist at the Grammys

TS quoted You’re So Vain

3/14/1978 The NFL permanently adds 7th official, a side judge

3/14/2005 The Pretenders are inducted to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

*bring on the pretenders.. Long Live

[heavenforblog1111]

American Idiot is the title track of the album 'American Idiot' by the rock band Green Day. The album was released on 21st September 2004. In 2000, Green Day had released the album 'The Warning' which came off as a disappointment in terms of commercial success. The band then decided to take a break before they came up with the next album which was supposed to be 'Cigarettes and Valentines'. The album was discontinued when the master tapes were stolen. Instead of recreating the album again, the band decided to start from scratch and tried to produce a new album which ended up being 'American Idiot'. Rob Cavallo, the band's long time producer wasn't sure if the band could produce the album because the band members were all living their seperate lives and he wasn't sure if the chemistry was still going to be there. The truth is, when they started making American Idiot, they were each living their own separate lives, and no one was really sure how the chemistry was going to be, They all had to deal with a lot of personal stuff before they could be great again. And when they first came to me and said, 'Let's get the band back together and make the best rock record we can,' I wasn't totally sure they could do it. Rob Cavallo Song Meaning https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ee_uujKuJMI The album tells the story of Jesus of Suburbia who is an adolescent belonging to a lower middle class American background. He is considered to be an anti hero who hates his family, friends and home. The theme of the album is rage and love as we can see in the poster depicting a heart in shape of a grenade held tightly in the hand. Jesus of Suburbia is the living embodiment of these emotions. Billie felt inspired to write the song after listening to a Lynyrd Skynyrd song being played on his car radio, while he was driving to the studio. The song was a pro redneck agenda song and this got Billie riled up. On reaching the studio, he penned down his thoughts. It was like, I'm proud to be a redneck and I was like, Oh my God, why would you be proud of something like that? This is exactly what I'm against. I looked at the guys like, 'Do you mind that I'm saying this?' And they were like, No, we agree with you. And it started the ball rolling. Billy Joe Armstrong The song American Idiot is about politics, media and represents the situation of America in 2004. Billie Joe through this song was stating his opposition to the 'Redneck Agenda'. George W. Bush had led America to a war with Iraq following the 9/11 attack. Billie Joe felt that the media had gone overboard with news and reality shows depicting violent scenes. They had all these Geraldo-like journalists in the tanks with the soldiers, getting the play-by-play. Billie Joe Armstrong The song talks about the news media being controlled and not representing the actual things occurring. Televisions showcase a reality that is fake and promises dreams that are not supposed to come true. The masses are blinded by the false propagandas of the media and form beliefs that are opposite of what goes on in reality, meanwhile promoting tension, hysteria and paranoia through their coverage. The song urges people to think in the right way and not follow agendas blindly. The song was written under George W. Bush's presidency, however Billie stated that he did not think of the song as an opposition to George W. Bush in particular. I would never think of American Idiot as being about the Bush administration specifically. It’s about the confusion of where we’re at right now. Billie Joe Armstrong The world’s in a confused state. I’m pissed off, and I’m angry, and I feel like I’m not fully represented. Mike Dirnt In the music video, the band is playing in what seems like a warehouse against a green flag with 48 stars (thought to be symbolic of the US National Flag). The green color is probably a reference to the band. Eventually the stripes of the flag melt and flow down and a green liquid is sprayed from the amplifiers.

The band later put down their instruments and leave once they are finished playing the music.