#everyone say thank you to op—i’m sure at least a couple of you were hoping for this one lol

[braisedhoney]

obligatory ask for Dance Macabre for Dan Phantom ur welcome

dan… you’re wearing white! you gotta watch out or it’ll stain :(

link to the color palette post

[selfawarejester]

So, someone requested a fic where Blue Team rescues a Child!Reader from a war zone, but unfortunately Tumblr ate the ask. If you’re the one who requested it, please enjoy!

EDIT: found a screenshot! @simp-for-fictional-men-only, hope you like this!

Blue Team x Child!Reader (Halo)

It’s been a long ���day”, even by Spartan standards.

Blue Team had been trying to repel Covenant forces on an Outer Colonies planet for over a week… but it hadn’t been enough. Command had called an evacuation, and after destroying a base to help the efforts, Blue Team had been ordered to help with final evacuation calls in the nearest town.

On the Pelican ride to town, there was a brief moment where they thought it was a waste of resources to send Spartans for an evacuation op, especially because the other Spartan teams were still doing the best they could to strike back at the Covenant; not necessarily to stop them anymore, just to hold them back long enough for the civilians to escape and maybe a little revenge. The events of the week, coupled with the guilt of their brothers and sisters still risking their lives, weighed on them heavily.

But at the end of the day, they’re glad they did: they found a group in the Rec center, a dozen people in the boroughs, twenty in an apartment complex — the Marines wouldn’t have been able to lift most of the wreckage that blocked them from escaping.

By the time they’d gotten to the outskirts of town, Blue Team had been left alone to sweep through the dead town. Chief considered just going to meet up with the Marines — surely, they could match the pace of the overloaded Troop Transports — and this area was just dilapidated factories and shady looking establishments that had long since been stampeded.

But a need to fulfil his task to completion stayed his hand… and thank god it did.

At first, it was just soft sniffles that sounded from the inside of the rundown factory. Chief and Kelly, who’d partnered up to search this side of the district, thought it was one of the many Jackals that had been posted in the previous sector wandering, or a Grunt that had been left behind after the Jackals had entertained themselves (in which case, they should probably put the thing out of its misery), so they go inside.

Chief goes first, moving carefully through the debris so as to not dislodge the wreckage, or disturb the corpses of the few soldiers and more civilians. He retrieves their dog tags, securing them in one of the compartments of the MJOLNIR, and Kelly follows, stepping where he does.

Slowly, the sound becomes louder and louder, wheezing and snotty sobbing. Definitely an injured Grunt, he thinks. It’s coming from under a slab of concrete propped up against a wall. Kelly flanks to the right, while Chief goes to the left. He signals that he’ll lift it on the count of three, and grips the edge of the slab. When the slab gets tossed aside, Kelly raises her shotgun, pointing directly at the small figure.

You shriek and bury your head in your knees, pulled up to your chest. You couldn’t believe that after all the gross, awful things you’d had to sit through, holed up in this corner, you were just going to die.

But when nothing happens for a solid five seconds, you chance a peek over your knees and gasp. S-117 and S-087 are emblazoned across the chests of the armored giants… Spartans.

Kelly and Chief exchange confused gazes, having no idea how to deal with children. The last ones they’d had any interaction with was the Castoffs on Netherop, but they were more feral gremlins than they had been children.

(Kelly and Fred still aren’t entirely sure that the whole incident wasn’t a heat-induced hallucination.)

John really doesn’t want to go through another episode like it, but on the other hand, it would be easier if you were pelting rocks at them.

Kelly, being the more personable of the two, kneels to your height (or as close as a Spartan could get) and softly calls. “You don’t have to be scared. We’re here to help.”

You knew that — they were Spartans! The greatest heroes Humanity ever possessed! You were just shocked that you were getting rescued by them.

“Y-you’re Spartans.” You whisper dumbly, but you couldn’t help it! How are you supposed to be cool when you grew up with Master Chief’s action figure on your nightstand. “Like Master Chief.”

You can’t see it, but John can sense Kelly’s smirk as she looks over at him and points. “Well, that’s the man himself.”

* Oh no. By the way your wet, moved eyes stare up at him, it seems you’re a fan.

OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!!! You hope your pterodactyl screeching wasn’t external.

“Whoa.” This couldn’t be real. You’d passed out from exhaustion, and were dreaming all of this. That could be the only possibility!

John knows that this is the part where he says something witty or inspiring… but he really doesn’t know what to say, so he just awkwardly clears his throat. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head violently, a burning need to not disappoint your childhood hero, and clamber up to your feet… only to wince and lean against the wall, something sticky on your leg.

Now that you’re standing, he can see the dried blood around your ankle. “Hold still!” All the softness is gone from Kelly’s tone as she works on bandaging you up, but you don’t mind, appreciating how careful she’s being.

Co-ordinating with Linda, who informs him that there are patrols scouting the areas — probably only to get any survivors, and not to catch them, but they should still move — and Fred, who tells him that the convoy is flying off-planet via Pelicans in half an hour, John makes some quick calculations.

With the pace you’d set, hobbling alongside Kelly, whimpering every time you put your weight on your left foot, it would take them at least an hour. Too long.

“Whoa…” The sound comes unbidden from Fred when Kelly emerges, with you clutching at her hip, all bloody and dirty. A pang of sympathy strikes as he looks around and realizes all that you must have seen. He was well aware that normal children weren’t nearly as resilient as he and his siblings had been.

“….” He stays silent as you arrive in front of him, staring up at him with slight apprehension, heart racing as he tries to think of something to say — and for some reason, he lands on an awkward, weirdly Southern-sounding. “Hey champ!”

John and Kelly both shoot him weird looks, and he wants to dig a hole and die, when they hear it.

A small giggle falls from your lips, tiny hands covering your mouth as you try not to laugh. Fred sighs in relief, but his anxiety returns when Kelly’s joking voice comes over the comms saying “Well, I guess we know who’s taking care of them.”

Linda drops out of nowhere, and nearly scares you to death as you shriek and bump into John, holding his leg tightly. You don’t really notice how he freezes, confused again.

“…sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry, you think with a pout and drop from Chief’s leg, careful of your own busted ankle.

“That’s Linda, that’s Fred and I’m Kelly. You can just call him Chief. What’s your name?”

“Y-Y/N.”

“Alright. We won’t be able to make it if you’re walking, so you need to get on one of our backs.” Chief tells you, straight to business. “Which one of us do you feel comfortable with?”

He’s really hoping you pick Kelly or Fred. It wouldn’t exactly be a burden, you’re much tinier than the full grown people he’s had to carry out of a war zone, and you’re handling it much better as well, even though you’re barely ten years old.

“Um…” You look shyly up at Fred. “If you don’t really mind…”

*Aw. That’s… actually kind of sweet. Fred beckons you over, and hoists you up between his shoulders, giving you the rundown on what to do if people start shooting, and to hold on tight when he tells you to.

*You’re much more considerate than the freaked out VIPs he’s had to extract. But he still feels you twitch every time the wind causes something to clatter, so he decides to strike up conversation.

“So how did you wind up there?” It’s not until afterwards that he realizes that, unlike soldiers, civilians aren’t comfortable discussing stuff like that. But you answer that it was your dad’s factory, explaining that it was Bring Your Kid To Work Day.

The Spartans, specifically Kelly, asked you questions about it, having never heard of it themselves. After all, military settings rarely allowed such breaches of protocol.

You only trailed off as you got to the part where he told you to hide, and Fred lets it be.

When you finally get to the convoy, a nurse hurriedly tries to pull you away from the Spartans to help out, apologizing for not doing it sooner when Fred tells her it’s fine and that you can stay. After all, Kelly had fixed you up well, and you seemed terrified at the prospect of being left alone.

All that was left to do was fly up to the ship in outer orbit, with the rest of the survivors. Since there were such few Pelicans, everyone had been crammed into them, military and civilians alike. You’d simply wandered onto the one they’d been on, sandwiched between Chief and Fred.

Chief watches you picking at your shorts, and suddenly remembers the chocolate bar Sgt. Johnson keeps giving him - “you’re not yourself when you’re hungry, Chief” He’d snicker and then leave, Chief just standing there, not understanding the reference - but hey, chocolate was chocolate.

“Here. You did well.” Your eyes go wide, and for a second he thinks you’re going to refuse, but then you snatch it out of his hand and snarf it down. This is how it must feel to watch him eat.

“You’re going to like it up there.” Fred chimes in when your gaze starts getting distant again. “Space is really cool.”

In a twist of fate, you find one of your best friends when you arrive on the ship. Their parents promise to take care of you, and thank the Spartans.

When they start directing the survivors to their quarters, you hug every Spartan, even Linda… or their legs, since you couldn’t reach anything else. (Thankfully, you telegraph it pretty well, so they don’t accidentally smack you or something.)

John just stiffens and then nods, Fred pats you on the head awkwardly and shuffles away (he was very shocked by the affection), Kelly laughs and claps you on the shoulder, and Linda just hums and pets you on the head like a dog, walking away afterwards.

You go on to be a Marine yourself, finding yourself on the Halo campaign, where Chief and Cortana save you once more. You’re surprised he still remembers you.

You leave a bar of the same brand he gave you at his shrine, giving a heartfelt eulogy and catching up momentarily with the other members of Blue Team before you all leave again.

You almost faint when he shows up at Requiem, though. Don’t feel bad, as Lasky fanboys behind Chief for the whole campaign.

Palmer corrals you and Lasky into a break room to make fun of your behavior after it’s all over.

[drabbles-mc]

Exceptions (2/2)

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Part 1

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, light angst/jealousy

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Part 2! I’ve re-read this a million times and I’ve gone back and forth on whether I’m happy with it or not lol. But it’s hard to be too upset with a happy Juice haha. Hope you guys enjoyed this! Been a while since I set out to do a quick multi-part story that doesn’t go on indefinitely haha. 

Join my group-chat here: (X) ​

SOA Taglist: @garbinge​​ @masterlistforimagines​​ @adela-topaz-caelon​​ @mijop​​ @chibsytelford​​ @xladymacbethx​​ @i-just-read-stuff​​ @kkim120​​ @multiyfandomgirl40​​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​​ @toni9​​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​​ @mayans-sauce​​ @shadow-of-wonder​​ @punkgoddess-98​​ @paintballkid711​​ @black-repunzel99​​ @lexondeck​​ (If you want to be added just let me know!)

There was some sort of shift after that night between you and Juice. He always hung around the bar when you worked, but lately he made a point to really check in with you throughout the night. Truthfully, you’d gotten used to it and it had become a part of what felt like your nightly routine, not that you would ever admit that to anyone. But his presence felt much more purposeful than before. You wondered if it was obvious just to you but Opie had pulled you aside at one point to check and make sure that Juice wasn’t bothering you at all, which confirmed your belief that it was more than a little obvious.

“I’ll tell him to leave you alone, you know,” his voice was rough but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

You laughed, shaking your head, “No, no. Don’t. It’s fine, Ope, really. He’s being…sweet.”

The amused grin on his face grew a little wider, “You feelin’ alright?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You actually don’t mind one of the guys hanging around you all the time? That…doesn’t sound right.”

You gave him a light, playful slap to the chest, “Shut up.”

He noticed the way that you weren’t meeting his eyes and he was eating up every second of it, “Want me to tell him to come over more?”

“Opie, I swear to god,” you tried to sound serious but you were too busy laughing, “if you don’t let this drop I’ll—”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, “I’ll stop. I’m just saying, though.”

“Mhm,” you gave him a shove, “Now get out from behind my bar.”

Opie laughed as he walked away to join the rest of the guys, pulling Lyla onto his lap once he sat down. He motioned for her to lean closer and even though you couldn’t hear what he was saying to her, you could tell by the way she flashed a quick smile over at you that he was talking to her about the exact thing he said that he’d drop. You knew that neither of them would stick their nose into it in a way that mattered, but you knew you were going to catch grief from them about it nonetheless.

You forced yourself to focus on your job. You mixed drinks and popped caps off of beer bottles as everyone came up and placed their orders. You hadn’t seen Juice for most of the night since he initially showed up and greeted you. You mentally kicked yourself for even noticing it, let along feeling some type of way about it. You didn’t know what exactly the feeling was, but it wasn’t good.

You were about to step outside to take a break for a couple minutes, asking the prospect to hold it together so you could try and catch your breath. However as you looked out over the expanse of the clubhouse you saw Juice sitting on one of the couches, with a girl from Cara Cara straddling his lap. Suddenly it made sense why you hadn’t seen him since he first got there.

He didn’t see you looking, and it was definitely better that way. You pushed down the feeling of disappointment as you grabbed a beer for yourself and made your way towards the door. You sat down on the picnic table, grateful that everyone was inside in the midst of the chaos so you had a couple minutes to yourself. The cool night air ripped through you, causing you to shiver, but you weren’t ready to go back in yet.

Once your beer was finished, you knew that you had to head back inside and finish off your shift. Running your hands down your face, you let out a deep sigh as you got up to head back into the mess. You tried to get your mind right, reminding yourself why you put distance between you and all of your patrons to begin with. You should’ve known better than to make exceptions to the rules, even if the exceptions had pleading brown eyes like Juice.

You got back behind the bar, dismissing the prospect with a good-natured smile, “Back into the wild with you,” you laughed as you gently nudged him out from behind the bar.

“You sure? I-I can still work. It’s really not—”

“Go,” you forced a laugh, “These guys put you through the wringer enough, you should get to enjoy some of the good stuff too. If I need you, I’ll yell.”

The end of his mouth kicked up into a smirk as he nodded, “Thanks. I’ll, I’ll be around.”

You silently shook your head as you watched him scamper off into the throws of the party. You took a few long, slow breaths as you collected up the bottles that had been tossed onto the surface of the bar, giving it a quick wipe-down despite the fact that it would be cluttered again within a matter of minutes.

When you turned back around to see if anyone was waiting to get a drink, you came face-to-face with Juice. He had the same cheery smile on his face that you were used to seeing on him, but you were still too busy beating yourself up to enjoy it. He immediately noticed the way that you wouldn’t meet his eyes and his smile dulled instantly.

“You good?”

You nodded, “Yea, all good. You?” you braced your hands against the bar, “Want a drink?”

He hadn’t heard you use a cold tone with him in a while, and it caught him off-guard, “N-no. I just…I came to see how you’re doing,”

“I’m good,” you nodded, busying yourself with the stacked glasses on your side of the counter.

“You sure?” you could feel that he was waiting for you to look at him.

“So sure,” you chuckled but it was hollow. You popped the tops off two beer bottles and slid them across to him, “Here. One for you and one for your friend,” you nodded towards the girl who had been in his lap, who was now sitting on the arm of the couch and leaning down to whisper something into Chibs’ ear.

He looked back and forth between the two of you, “She’s not—”

“I don’t need t—” you stopped yourself, “I don’t wanna know. Not my business.”

Before he had the chance to say anything else, you walked to the other end of the bar and made yourself look busy while doing a whole lot of nothing. You could do that for as long as it took him to walk away. He hung back and stared at you for a minute, but when he realized that you weren’t going to budge, he grabbed the bottles with a sigh and walked away.

As the night wore on, every now and then you’d feel Juice’s eyes on you. You knew that whatever problem was starting to brew there was one of your own creation. You were the one who was constantly telling the guys not to waste their time and when they decided to listen you let yourself get your feelings hurt. He didn’t do anything to deserve the cold shoulder that you were giving him, but you gave it anyway. It would only take a few shifts to get your mind right again and surely he would survive that without a problem.

“Hey,” Opie’s voice ripped you off your train of thought.

You looked over at him, forcing a smile, “Hey, what’s up?”

“You good?”

You nodded, “Yea, of course, why?”

“I’m used to Juice looking like a kicked puppy,” he chuckled quietly and shook his head, “It’s a new look on you though.”

You rolled your eyes, “Shut the fuck up.”

“What happened?”

“Not that it’s any of your business anyway,” you threw your rag down on the surface of the bar, “But nothing happened.”

“Mhm,” he nodded, lightly trailing his fingers through his beard as he waited for you to crack and say something more.

“Is there something in particular you would like, Opie?” you arched one eyebrow.

He shook his head, “Nope,” he rapped his knuckles against the bar top, “Just figured I’d check in on you. But if you’re alright then—”

“I am. Thank you.”

He knew better than to push his luck. If you really needed something he knew you’d ask. With a slight nod he walked away from the bar and you sighed as you watched him rejoin the rest of his crew. Running your hands down your face, you geared up to finish the rest of your shift. It was about the time that people started to disperse, and you wished that it was like the other bars you’d worked in where you could just start essentially kicking people out. But the clubhouse was more than just a bar—it was also home base for the MC and you didn’t get to kick them out of their own home.

You were sitting on a stool on the customer side of the bar, leaning back against it as you watched the crowd thin out. You’d lost track of Juice earlier in the night and it was probably for the best—he probably left with the girl you’d seen him with before

. And it was honestly better that way, or at least that’s what you were going to tell yourself.

“You want me to clean up tonight?” the prospect materialized in front of you, an expectant look on his face.

You smiled and shook your head, “I got it tonight, thank you though. Go home, get some rest.”

He didn’t wait around for you to possibly change your mind, quickly turning on his heel and making his way towards the door. You chuckled quietly to yourself and shook your head as you watched the door shut behind him as he left. After taking a couple minutes for the last of everyone to clear out, you stood up and set about getting things in order for the night. You shut the music off and started picking up the glasses and bottles that littered the tables throughout the clubhouse.

You were stacking dirty glasses into the dishwasher when you heard heavy footsteps making their way closer to you. You glanced back over your shoulder, expecting to see one of the guys coming out for one last beer to bring to their room or something of the sort, but instead you just saw Juice standing there, hands tucked into his pockets. He looked so different without his kutte on, just a plain white t-shirt with his cargo pants.

“Need something?” you asked without turning to face him.

“Was hoping you’d be in more of a mood to talk,” he stepped closer to the bar.

“About?”

“Did I, did I do something? Say something that upset you?”

You sighed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before shaking your head, “No, you didn’t.”

“Then why won’t you make eye contact with me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you still didn’t turn around as you poured soap into the dishwasher.

It only took him a couple strides to appear behind you. You weren’t looking at him but you could feel how close he was. It might’ve been in your head, but you could’ve sworn that you felt the heat radiating off of his body. He was more than close enough to reach out and touch you, to try and turn you to face him, but he didn’t.

“C’mon, talk to me,” his voice was quiet, nonconfrontational.

“There’s,” you shook your head, lifting and shutting the door to the dishwasher with more force than necessary, “there’s nothing to talk about. I told you—you didn’t do anything.”

You knew that you could only stand there with your back to him for so long before you had to turn and look him in the eye. Taking one more deep breath you ripped the band-aid off and faced him. His eyes desperately searched yours, looking for answers that you didn’t want to give him.

“What’s going on?”

You forced yourself not to break eye contact, “I told you, it’s nothing. Better not hang out here too long,” you nodded towards the hall that led to the dorms, “your friend will start wondering where you ran off to.”

“My fr—” he stopped, shaking his head, “I’m by myself back there,” he chuckled and gestured with his arm, “You’re more than welcome to go look for yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing one of the liquor bottles and pouring yourself a drink in one of the few clean glasses that were left, “I’ll just take your word for it.”

“That what’s been bothering you all night? That I was talking with that girl from—”

“Looked like more than just talking,” your tone was more bitter than you wanted it to be.

He chuckled, not amused by the fact that you were hurt, but more out of shock that you even cared at all, “I didn’t think that it would be topping your list of concerns. You made it pretty fuckin’ clear that none of us should waste our time chasing after you.”

“I know,” you leaned forward, bracing yourself on the edge of the bar, “I know. That’s why this is so fucking stupid. I’ve got no right to feel like this.”

He stepped in closer, “Feel like what?”

You downed your drink and all but slammed the glass down on the bar top, “Jealous.”

His eyes grew wide. Deep down he thought that that was what was going on, but it was also difficult for him to picture you being jealous at all, let alone over him. He reached out and gently rested his hand on your shoulder, “There something you wanna talk about?”

“No. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

He couldn’t help but to smile at how stubborn you were being, “C’mon. We’re friends, right? Talk to me.”

“Juice, stop,” your tone was annoyed but you could feel the weight in your chest starting to lighten as he pestered you with a knowing smirk on his face.

“What’s going on? You don’t get to ignore me all night and then tell me you’re jeal—”

“I like you, alright?” you huffed, shaking your head and running your hands over your head, “I like you. And I know it’s dumb and goes against everything I’ve ever said to any of you guys. But you’re sweet and funny and cute and I didn’t think anything of it until I saw you with that girl all over you and I just,” you sighed, “Fuck.”

He gave you a second to get your thoughts in order, leaning his back against the bar next to you. You weren’t looking directly at him but you could see the smile on his face. He gently nudged you, “Hey,” he waited for you to look at him, “I like you too. And, for the record,” he smiled, “you don’t have to be so upset about liking me. I’m not that bad.”

It finally got a laugh out of you, “I never said that.”

“That what this has been all about tonight?” he motioned back and forth between the two of you, “Because of some random girl who wouldn’t leave me alone?”

“You didn’t seem to mind it, Juice,” you shot him a disbelieving look.

He chuckled, “I’m only human, alright?” he turned his body so it was facing yours, “But why didn’t you just say something? Because I mean, I’ve never been subtle. You’ve known how I feel.”

You felt your face heating up, “I know.”

“Then why—”

“Because I didn’t want to admit it,” you turned so that you were finally facing him head-on, “And I’m sorry for that. And…for the rest of it.”

There was a smirk on his face, “It’s alright.”

“Why are you still being so nice to me after I was such a dick to you?”

He laughed, a wave of bravery washed over him and he reached out to rest his hands on your hips, “You weren’t that much of a dick.”

“Well,” you couldn’t help but to laugh, “thank you for that.”

“C’mere,” he chuckled as he pulled you in close and hugged you. You let yourself lean into him and for the first time all night you felt your body relax. His warmth bled over onto you immediately as you loosely draped your arms around him.

You felt him kiss the edge of your forehead and you pulled back to look at him. It was evident in his eyes that he was trying to figure out if he pushed it too far. You smiled as you reached up and rested one hand on his cheek for a moment before pulling him down to you and pressing your lips to his. You felt his lips curl into a smile as he wrapped his arms tighter around you.

When you finally pulled away to catch your breath, you could see the glint in Juice’s eyes, “What?”

He shook his head, smiling, “Nothing. Just, you should’ve done this way sooner.”

You laughed, playfully pushing against his chest, “Easy for you to say.”

He kissed you again, softly, “You wanna stay?”

You shook your head, “No way. I know what goes on back in those dorms,” you laughed for a moment, before continuing, “But, if you’re up for it, I will cash in on that lift home.”

His eyes lit up, “Yea?”

You nodded, “Yea,” you dropped your hands so your fingers interlocked with his as you tugged him towards the door, “C’mon.”

[let-them-read-fics]

Empress of the Heart (Pt. 2)

Synopsis / Request: “Reader is an actress, and she meets Jennie at an event. They have a one night stand afterward, and months later they meet again.”

Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Actress!Reader

Warnings / Misc: Smut (only in Pt. 1), Angst, Fluff

Here’s the second half of the request for you lovely peeps! Enjoy :)

Part 1

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

◇◇◇◇◇

"Y/N, more people are arriving and management wants us to greet them. Something about photo ops." Jackson, your fellow lead, says as he pokes his head into your dressing room. His entrance intruded on your thoughts of the beautiful brunette that effectively stole your heart away within a night, leaving you completely at her mercy despite being worlds away.  

"Alright, just give me a second." He nods and goes to stand outside your door -- you're expected to be seen together for a good portion of the night. Thankfully, though, Jackson is a good guy; he cares a lot about you, always doing everything in his power to keep you happy. The feeling is mutual; it's nice to have someone in your corner in an industry as unforgiving as this one. 

"Ready?" You ask, opening the door after you've checked yourself in the mirror and smoothed down any unruly hairs or clothing. Looking presentable is a must tonight -- you can't appear as wistful as you've been feeling lately. 

"Sure am." His answer is a bit unnecessary, seeing as how you asked a rhetorical question, but you send him a smile nonetheless. He offers you an arm, and soon the two of you are walking back towards the entrance of the building. 

--------

Waves of flashing cameras greet you for the second time tonight, now capturing you in your full glammed-out look. The first time had been a few hours ago when your team arrived to begin setting up and get all of you ready. 

The entire cast now stands stretched out in front of the large screen that will air the movie later, your arms around each other as you smile for the cameras. Promotional pictures shine behind you on the screen, serving as a perfect backdrop as they cycle through their predetermined slideshow.

Eventually, you all disperse to greet some guests. 

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Choi. It's wonderful seeing you again." 

"I hope you enjoy our performances, Mrs. Lee. Your support has meant the world to us." 

"Ah, Jeong! How've you been?" 

Countless faces pass by as you work hard to greet everyone, knowing full well your company will be upset if you slack off now. It's everyone's big night, so they obviously can't have their leading lady stopping for even a minute. 

You're almost ready to run to the restroom in order to have a moment to yourself, free of prying eyes and judgemental stares; but what you hear next sends a chill down your spine, an all too familiar ache in your chest. 

It's Jennie. She's laughing that wonderful laugh of hers, taking you back in time to when you first heard it. Her members must've said something really hilarious, because all of them are doubled over, clutching their stomachs with laughter. 

"Hey again," Jackson greets, and for a second you almost want to tell him to leave you alone. You don't, though, knowing you have no right to pull something like that. 

"YG's girl group just got here. Do you want to say hello?" Of course you do. You want to run into Jennie's arms and spin her around, reveling in the way her arms would surely wrap around you in that warm embrace that's so uniquely hers. You want to tell her a stupid joke to make her laugh again, like she had just a few moments ago. You want to talk to her. 

But you don't.

"No, not right now. I'm going to visit with my family, if that's alright with you." 

"Sure, sure." He says considerately, unwrapping his arm from you. You press a friendly kiss to his cheek as a thank you, letting it serve as a goodbye as well. 

"Eomma!" You shout, squeezing through the crowd when you spot her at one of the banquet tables lining the front of the room. The rest of the space is filled with rows of chairs, already set out for when the movie premieres. 

"Ah, baby girl. We're so proud of you." She says, holding you in a tight embrace as tears spill from her eyes. Her arms bring you comfort like no other, and you're beyond grateful to have her here tonight. Some of your friends stand behind her, too, waiting for their turn to say hello. 

Jennie watches you interact with them from across the room, and she feels a pang of sadness run through her. She's not naive to how these things work: your other cast mates had come over to greet her and girls, snapping pictures and even starting meaningful conversations in some cases -- all of that meaning you had been given the opportunity to do the same, but turned it down. Do you not want to see her? Maybe she had misjudged your night together. You are an actress, after all. 

She shakes her head, physically willing the thoughts to go away as she turns her focus to whatever new person was talking to them now. She continues stealing glances in your direction, finding you looking somewhere else every time. She'd give just about anything to have you look at her, if only for a moment. Just a glance, she thinks to herself, praying the universe hears her pleas. They seem to fall on deaf ears, though, because before she knows it the MC is calling all of you onto stage and the guests are directed to their seats. 

"Let's welcome the cast of Empress of the Heart!" The MC says cheerily, tucking his notecard underneath his arm in order to clap along with the audience. "They've spent months working hard for this project, travelling to filming locations in different countries, learning new languages, and facing their fears. We hope all of you thoroughly enjoy their performances. Now, I'll hand it over to our leads." 

You and Jackson bow towards the audience, waving at them politely as they applaud you again. He looks at you, a silent question of if you want to speak first, and you nod. Taking the mic from him, you say, "Firstly, I'd like to thank our incredible cast and crew. They played just as important a role in this movie as Jackson and I, and we're endlessly grateful for their hard work." More cheers ring out at your kind hearted show of appreciation, and you speak up again once they've died down. 

"These past few months have been some of the best of my life, and I owe that to people like you, and my fans. Thank you for taking a chance on me and supporting me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you." You say sincerely, looking into the camera that's recording all of this for exclusive content. When the movie drops for the public in a couple weeks, they'll be able to buy this tape as well and see highlights from the premiere. The thought of your fans watching it from the comfort of their own homes, yelling praises at their screens, makes you smile. 

Jackson takes over now, smoothly transitioning into his own mini speech of thanks. You stop your eyes from meeting the one pair that they so desperately want to, always keeping them trained on other parts of the crowd. If you allow your resolve to crumble, you'll get lost in her all over again and potentially screw up one of the biggest nights of your life. You can't take a risk like that. 

You laugh at something Jackson says, some joke about how you had to face your fear of heights for a scene in the movie, and Jennie takes a deep breath. She's not exactly jealous, but yet that's precisely the feeling that creeps its way into her chest. She knows that you're avoiding her for some reason, but she has no idea why. Did she do something wrong? 

--------

Why, why, did they have to sit Blackpink in the row right behind you? It's karmic, the universe's way of pushing you back to each other, but you don't know how to feel about it all. You can feel her eyes boring into you as each new scene plays, silently begging for you to turn around and talk to her, even if it's impolite to do so in the middle of a movie.

You don't, though, fighting every fiber of your being to keep yourself from giving in. 

Despite the emotions that swirl within her that pay little mind to the number they're doing on her heart, she actually finds herself enjoying parts of the movie. It's bittersweet, seeing you up there, but you command the screen in a way that seems to steal all coherent thoughts from her brain. You're truly skilled, and she gets a kick out of watching you hide behind your hands in embarrassment when your co-stars offer whispered praises.

During one scene in particular, though, Jennie's eyes drop to the floor, her teeth clenched together tightly. Your character just saved Jackson's from certain doom, and the two of you are sharing a long-overdue kiss. The rest of the crowd lets out approving noises at this, but Jennie is comforted by her members' soft smiles and reassuring touches. You feel guilty, for some reason, knowing that anything you were a part of made Jennie so upset. It shouldn't matter, though -- I mean, it's not like you and Jackson are actually together -- but still, it hurts Jennie to see him kiss you and hold you in the ways she wants to. 

The rest of the night carries on much the same, but later on, once you get enough courage to look for Jennie, she's gone. The other girls are too, and a sinking feeling settles in your chest. Gone -- again -- just like all that time ago. Your reasons for staying away from her were legitimate, but they felt nothing of the sort as you glanced around the crowd again. 

The movie ended earlier, already getting good marks and reviews from the critics who came to view it, and now the "afterparty" of sorts was kicking in. You hadn't expected the girls to stay long after the movie, but you'd at least hoped to utter a word to them, if nothing else. A smile would've sufficed. 

Realizing she's really gone, you let out a sad sigh and make your way down the hall, towards the large doors that lead to the balcony. If anything can clear your mind right now, surely it's a chilly breeze. 

You lay an arm against the sturdy railing, leaning on it as you massage your neck. All of the stress you've been put under is showing in the form of painful knots, far too many to get rid of in one go. You sigh, letting your head lull forward and lay against your arm.

"And here I was thinking I wouldn't see you again."

At the utterance, you turn around to find her leaned up against the stone wall of the building with a playful smirk on her lips. She's back to her old self in an instant, but you can sense the undertones of nervousness in her voice. 

The darkness of the night that envelops you two makes her eyes look even more feline -- even more alluring -- and it takes everything in you not to lose your train of thought. 

"Jennie." Her name comes out as a pleased declaration more than anything else, a familiar flutter taking over your heart at the sight of her. It's a warm feeling in your chest, and you never want it to go away. 

You try not to focus on the sensual swaying of her hips or the teasing look in her eye as she pushes herself away from the wall to approach you. 

"I thought you left." You breathe out, remembering how sad you were earlier. 

"Without getting you alone first? How could I?" The implication behind her words gives you pause, causing a blush to begin forming on your cheeks. You curse yourself for being so easy.

"I've missed you like crazy," she confesses, allowing herself to be vulnerable again. Now in front of you, she brushes the back of her fingertips against your cheek as you look into her eyes. 

"I've missed you, too -- more, probably," you say, the declaration sounding like an embarrassed sigh as it leaves your lips. She smiles at that -- her genuine, gummy smile that you've missed so much -- and your heart flutters again. 

She debates on asking the question that sits on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be answered. "Why didn't you greet me before, at the party?" Her voice is small now, insecure, as she avoids your gaze and stills her movements. 

"I-..." you start, finding yourself at a loss for words. Should you tell her how you feel?

"I was afraid you'd throw me off my game. You're pretty distracting, you know?" You reply, nudging her shoulder playfully. A hint of a smile tugs at her cheeks, unsure if it should finish the job and turn into a big one. 

"I thought I did something wrong." She informs.

"Not at all. In fact, you did things a little too right, if you ask me. I can't stay away from you, Jennie." Her heart trips and stumbles over itself in its pursuit of gaining a steady rhythm again, thrown off course by your words. 

Growing brave, she suggests, "Go on a date with me, then. I wanna have more nights like that with you." She whispers that last part, ghosting her fingertips over your skin to awaken the memories. 

"I'd like that," you smile, leaning in to kiss her lips. It's soft and gentle, much like your first one, and your heart hammers in your chest. It seems to forget that you've done this before, choosing instead to subject you to the giddiness you felt that first time with her. 

She pulls back to rest her forehead against yours, settling her arms around your waist, saying, "I've wanted to do that all night." You smile for the millionth time because of her, happy with how things have turned out.

"Do it again, then." 

And she does. 

[weresilver]

40 (almost kiss) + 54 (secret relationship)? 🥰

Being in bed at 12:00 am will not stop me, I guess. Bonus Getting Together, I guess. Spent 3 or so hours at this. Ops.

Post S4. This is a disgusting amount of fluff. Unbeta'd (but self proof-read) as I wrote this from 12 am to 3:30 am.

On AO3

Years In The Making

Not that he believed it, but he was sure most people around him would say it was meant to be; something fated somewhere to happen somehow. Eddie didn't really believe that.

What he did believe was that they may have been too afraid (or maybe too repressed, in his case) to see what was going on, what had been growing for a long while. Years, maybe?

But getting shot (again) had given him a good shake, and he could say he'd been almost disappointed to see Ana by his bedside. No fault of her own, of course not, but...

He was pretty sure of what he wanted at that moment.

Breaking things off with her hadn't been that difficult, or painful, a couple of weeks after his return home. Ana's disappointment was clear, but she seemed to know as well as he did that they weren't going anywhere as a couple. With a promise to stay in touch, she walked out of his home one last time.

Now all he had to do was talk to Buck.

-

Buck had been cagey for the first few days when Eddie had asked him about Taylor. It took about a week and a couple of beers for him to blurt out, "She kissed me then ran out." He fidgeted for a couple of minutes. "Then she came back and we talked through it."

Eddie's heart sank, but he still put on a smile for the sake of his friend (if that was all that he would be for Buck, he'd make do). "And?"

"And we are at very different stages when it comes to romance." Buck shrugged, but the tiny frown was right there between his brows. "She became a good friend, but damn, we wouldn't have lasted as a couple."

Buck finished his beer and turned to Eddie, though not looking beyond the water bottle he was holding in his one good hand.

"She, uh... She isn't quite who I want." Buck cleared his throat, abruptly standing up and walking away from the dining table to place his empty bottle in the recyclable bin. "How is Ana, by the way?"

Eddie accepted the deflection well enough, watching as Buck stood by the doorway with his arms crossed, a stance that tried to project calm. Eddie doubted he was anywhere near it; he never enjoyed talking about failed relationships (including those that never took off).

"We broke up last week," he replied easily, standing up to refill his bottle in the kitchen. "Don't worry," he added, seeing the wide-eyed surprise (and dare he say, hope?) in Buck's expression. "It was pretty amicable and even. We both saw we weren't going to get anywhere and decided to split."

"Okay," Buck whispered, following him into the kitchen. "You okay?"

Eddie nodded, smiling. "Yeah, I'm fine." Though he had to ask... "Who is it?" Buck's confused, scrunched-up expression was pretty damn cute, making him look a little bit more like the Golden Retriever pup Hen and Chimney often compared him to. "You said Taylor isn't who you want, so who is it?"

"Eddie," he said on a groan, though he simply leaned against the counter instead of answering.

"See," Eddie spoke with a new bout of confidence (maybe just as ill-placed as the excitement he was starting to feel), standing against the sink across from Buck. "I'm kind of hoping for a specific answer here."

Buck didn't reply. Eddie had barely even noticed a shift in Buck's expression before he moved into his space, pressing a hard kiss against his lips, a huge contrast to how softly his hands cradled his head and how careful he was to not press against the sling and his injured shoulder.

Eddie wasn't sure if the bottle ended up on the sink or on the floor by their feet. What mattered was that he managed to get his hand on Buck's neck, drawing him even closer.

(Not that Buck let either of them press too close, and god, he loved him.

And he was distantly aware that he should be at least a little freaked out over the thought after one kiss - their first kiss - but, well... Years in the making and all that.)

-

One kiss became two, became many, and Eddie could see the same feelings reflected in Buck's blue eyes. Belonging, a finally and a home.

There was no need to go beyond kissing and cuddling, both of them content to sit even closer together, hands intertwined whenever they could.

It was... Soft in a way Eddie hadn't had in so long, intimate in ways he thought he wouldn't experience.

-

And they weren't subtle, weren't actively trying to keep anything a secret. Eddie was still off work, doing his PT as he should and Buck had been staying at his house (their home, he couldn't help but think every time) since Eddie got out of the hospital anyway.

But two months passed and the only two people aware of the change in their relationship were Christopher and Carla because they found them cuddled up on the couch, Eddie knocked out by painkillers and then too out of it to deny anything when his son questioned him about it.

(Christopher had simply nodded with a mumbled "Good" and left it at that. They still had no idea what that was about.)

The sling had come off a few days ago, though he still couldn't do that much, and it was driving Eddie up a wall. Buck was at the station, and he didn't want to think about the conniption he'd have if he drove there.

He knocked on Christopher's bedroom door, opening it slowly to see his son smiling at him from where he sat with his book.

"Hey, buddy." It was impossible not to smile back, feeling the all-encompassing warmth at the fact that he was still here, could see his son growing up for a while longer. "What do you say we pay a visit to the station?"

The frown he got for that was so much like Shannon's that he didn't know what to do with the pang in his chest. There was no guilt, not then, over the fact he missed her. He just did, she should be able to see how much their kid was growing, how much like her he could be sometimes. And maybe she was, if the afterlife turned out to be a thing after all.

"You are not supposed to drive."

And that tone was way too much like Buck's, just this morning, for Eddie to hold back his laughter.

"I was thinking we could take an Uber." He shrugged with his left shoulder. He might have been desperate to get out of the house, but he wasn't stupid; he didn't want pain and he didn't want to end up lectured by the entire team once he got there. "What do you say?"

Christopher considered it for a moment, then placed his bookmark and got up. "Let's go!"

-

"You better not have come in your car, Eddie!"

He rolled his eyes at the very much expected exclamation as Christopher giggled beside him.

"Don't worry, Buck," the kid said, walking ahead as Buck came downstairs. "I didn't let him drive."

"Thank God for you, kid," Buck said, kneeling on one knee to give Chris a hug. "Your dad is stubborn, he probably would have driven here if it weren't for you."

"Hey!" There was no real annoyance in his protest, but Eddie still said, "I get enough sass from my kid, don't you start, too."

Buck, in such a show of maturity, stuck out his tongue at him before turning to Christopher once again.

"Come on, buddy, let's go see the fun people."

Chris' laughter echoed in the station, and Eddie let the light atmosphere carry him upstairs to the loft where he was greeted by the rest of the team with hugs, and some friendly pats on (thankfully) his uninjured shoulder.

Chimney and Hen immediately walked with Christopher to the pinball machine, and Bobby had given him a plate of leftover breakfast to carry wherever he ended up sitting.

He chose the couch, where Buck had already made himself comfortable again and was currently watching the trio at the machine. They could hear Hen encouraging Chris to beat Chim's high score.

"Hey you," Buck greeted softly, an arm going around his shoulders as Eddie adjusted himself.

"Hey yourself." Buck glanced at the other side of the loft, then pressed a quick peck to his lips. Apparently, everyone was sufficiently distracted. "How are you?"

"So far so good." He took one of the biscuits from Eddie's plate, quickly popping it into his mouth as if Eddie hadn't sat here to share them. "I'd ask how your day is going, but it's obvious you're bored out of your mind."

Eddie groaned, letting his head fall back against Buck's arm. He was beyond bored, at this point, and no amount of movies or video games had helped. Buck's chuckle beside him was another pretty good incentive to get out of the house.

He turned his head to face him, his own expression undoubtedly soft as he took in the man that had been by his side for so long and for so many things already.

Buck's expression softened even more, somehow, his smile bright as the sun and even warmer. He leaned closer and-

And what sounded like a very undignified squeak interrupted their almost-kiss, causing Eddie to huff in mild annoyance and turn around.

Chimney stood by the dining table, gaping at them. Bobby was still in the kitchen and turned to look at them at the sound of Chimney's squeak.

"What's wrong, Chim?" Hen asked, frowning all the way from the pinball machine (where Christopher continued to play).

"They..." He gestured between the two of them. "Since when are you two together?!" He ignored Hen's own surprised exclamation. "They were about to kiss!"

"Yeah," Eddie confirmed, nonchalantly making himself comfortable in Buck's arms in the new position so he could look at the rest of their team. "And you had to ruin the mood."

Buck hid his face in his hair, and Eddie could hear the quiet snickering. They really thought the others would have caught up after two months of visiting Eddie at least once every few days.

"What about Ana?"

"We broke up two months ago, man."

"And Taylor?"

"Dude, we never started dating in the first place." The exasperation was clear in Buck's voice. "She's really just a friend."

Chimney nodded, satisfied for the time being. They had no doubt that there would be more questions later.

"When did this even happen?" Hen asked this time, walking over with Christopher.

"Two months ago," Chris answered before either of them could, smiling a little too innocently. "A week or something after Dad broke up with Miss Flores."

Eddie had no idea Christopher knew that level of details, but he had definitely been out of it when he told him. Maybe he said more than he remembered.

"Well," Bobby finally spoke up, walking over to their little family unit on the couch, now that Christopher was tucked on Eddie's other side. "I'm happy for you two." Eddie could feel whatever tension had been on Buck's body (not that there was much in the first place) drain out of him at Bobby's words. "And we can deal with HR and paperwork once you're back at the station," he added, directed at Eddie. Bobby's smile was genuinely warm, putting him even further at ease.

Years in the making. Maybe it was obvious to everyone else, but Eddie wouldn't change a thing about the road they took to get here. It had been hard and full of hurt, but what they had was solid and them and it was definitely worth it all.

Including the cheering, clapping, and whistles of everyone else when Buck pressed a kiss to his lips right there and then simply because he could.

[russadler]

Work Hard, Play Harder - Prologue

Russell Adler x Female OC

The mission sounds simple enough, but the devil was definitely in the details.

A/N: This is something completely new and separate from ‘A Little Death’ and NOT a Russell Adler x Bell. After coming to terms with the issues with that pairing, it was difficult to continue that fic even though I loved it as much as I did. It was devastating to do so, but I’m hoping to create something completely new and fun. I guess this is sort of similar to ‘A Little Death’ in a way but completely different at the same time. This is just the prologue, setting the scene for the fic, but let me know what you guys think <3

June 7, 1982

Langley, Virginia

She’s not entirely sure what she expected, but it wasn’t this. 

Her day starts out simple enough. Write memos, respond to emails, read and scribble in the growing stack of files on her desk. Then her department lead tells her Jason Hudson needs to see her and from then on things get very interesting, very fast. 

The brunette makes her way to the briefing room with haste, lithe legs carrying her at the fastest pace considered appropriate in Langley’s corridors. Everyone knew Jason Hudson to be a notorious hardass, but he was a decorated one. A long list of achievements had ensured he sat at the echelon of the clandestine operations unit. 

Now he wanted her. Getting called on by Mr. Shades himself was the lifelong dream of the many that worked at Langley, but now that it’s happening the woman can’t deny the sense of apprehension at the prospect. She had worked minor roles under the direction of other handlers in a few of the smaller ops he’s overseen over the years, but felt she had done nothing then to warrant his attention whatsoever. 

There’s little time to ponder, and before long the briefing room door she’d been directed to enters her field of vision. Shoulders squared and breathing deeply through her nose, knuckles meet the worn wood in delicate but firm raps. A deep voice beckons her forth, and she enters. 

Hudson stands at the far end of the table, one hand in his pocket and the other sifting through a stack of papers currently occupying the surface in front of him. 

“Agent Fletcher.” He greets flatly, not even sparing her a glance as he focuses his gaze on the aforementioned sheets of paper.

“Sir.” She returns, thankful that she’s managed to keep the nervous tremble from her voice and replace it with something pleasant and airy instead. Taking a seat, her delicate hands flatten her pressed slacks as she moves. Her selected chair is close, but maintains a respectable enough distance from her superior.  

“Are you familiar with the name Anthony Lipovetsky, agent?” Hudson cuts to the chase, starting as soon as she’s settled. His cold stare shifts to acknowledge her presence, and a chill comes over her as she stares into those signature reflective shades.

They both knew the answer to his question. Aria Fletcher worked mainly in the drug and contraband trafficking sector of the CIA. 

Of course she knew who he was. 

Anthony Lipovetsky had steadily become a pain in the DEA’s ass recently, according to what she had been hearing. Though he wasn’t anyone particularly prolific that warranted the CIA’s attention like some others had. Out of the many individuals Hudson could have pulled her here to ask about, the Russian - American was the least expected.

“Drug trafficker making some big moves along the east coast, but he’s not the biggest fish in the pond.” Aria answers, sounding matter of fact as she stares back at the other. It’s more of a question of a statement. Why him? 

“You’re right. He isn’t, but it’s recently come to our attention that he’s been dabbling into arms smuggling.” Hudson counters, but it still isn’t the answer she’s looking for. 

“Unsurprising. He’s not the first and certainly won’t be the last.” The younger states, but there’s more to this and she knows it. She takes a gamble and makes an educated guess. “Would I be correct in guessing we’re here right now because of his choice in clientele?” 

The female agent can only hope Hudson doesn’t think she’s trying to be a smartass, but all she can do is speculate. It’s the only reasonable assumption that comes to mind seeing as the The CIA doesn’t like it very much when people sell guns to the bad guys, and they especially don’t like it if they’re the type of bad guys who like terrorism. 

“Precisely.” Hudson answers, and the agent has to fight the urge to smile. Right on the ball.

“We have solid intel that he’s been in contact with a soviet agent named Perseus.” The elder continues even seriously, voice grim as he makes the acknowledgment.

Oh. Oh. 

The name Perseus wasn’t one she was familiar with, but the words Soviet Agent had stood out. This was bigger than the domestic drug trade, this was the Soviet Union making way into their backyard. 

This is bad. Very, very bad. 

“So, what’s the plan?” The young woman queries, a touch hesitant at what role she has to play in something that now seems entirely out of her league. 

Hudson’s mouth parts, but a knock at the door interrupts. Her head snaps towards the door as Hudson grants entrance, and in walks Russell Adler. 

Langley legend, ‘America’s Monster’ The man’s in a different league even when compared to a heavyweight like Hudson. He’s pretty much a myth. She’s heard the stories about him, both personal and professional. His portfolio of work is way above her pay grade, and his presence immediately makes the entire thing immensely more interesting. 

She rode an elevator with him once, almost a year back. The encounter was barely a minute long, but she never forgot how devastatingly attractive the man was, with looks that easily could have landed him in Hollywood. Not to mention the way the man carried himself, assertive and with an undeniable dominance. 

Adler doesn’t introduce himself, and doesn’t even spare her a glance nor a word as he takes the seat adjacent to Hudson. His shaded eyes are focused straight ahead as he pulls a cigarette from the pack he seemingly carried in, perching the stick between his lips and igniting it with a zippo lighter that had appeared from God knows where. 

Aria hadn’t realized she had been staring until Hudson tosses something at her from his place at the table, the sound jolting her back to attention. A manila folder glides quietly across the stained wood to land neatly in front of her, only two words on the front.

Operation Ocelot. 

“Let’s get started.” Hudson announces. She opens the file, and things begin to unravel. 

——————————————————————

As it turns out, Operation Ocelot consists of a covert insertion of two agents into Anthony Lipovetsky’s Miami home. That part sounds simple enough, but the devil is definitely in the details.

For the time being, it was prudent Lipovetsky’s connection to Perseus remained intact. They needed a paper trail to follow, and one they could follow without arousing Lipovetsky’s suspicion. There was no real point in spying on someone if they knew they were being spied on.

“The target is well guarded, the man has a price on his head and he’s well aware. Armed security teams around the clock, cameras around the house, the whole package.” Hudson states, slides on the projector screen behind him changing to show a floorplan of the house. 

“Is this where I come in?” Aria questions, it’s easy to assume that’s the only reason why she’s here. 

It seems they’ve selected her to be the honeypot, an unfortunate consequence of being at the very least a mildly attractive woman in the CIA. Sexuality had proven to be man’s greatest weakness time and time again, and it become just a part of the job. She knew if it was something she didn’t want to do, she could easily say no. But then again, she had killed many people in her time as an agent, and one had quickly learned how to detach emotions from entire aspects of life as necessary. 

It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but she swears she sees Hudson and Adler share a look before the former answers her. “It’s where you and Adler come in.” 

Adler in the meanwhile, hasn’t spoken throughout the entire thing. He hadn’t even looked at her yet, his sightline having been maintained firmly on the projector screen ahead as Hudson led the briefing. The end of his cigarette had burned red in the darkness as he took steady pulls from it throughout, the only sign of life in an otherwise detached and glacial man. 

And now, Russell Adler is looking at her. Dark aviators like twin blackholes that threaten to swallow her whole. 

At this point the young agent is visibly confused, as demonstrated by Hudson moving to clarify the statement. “Through our surveillance program we’ve been able to observe the targets' routines and behaviours, and it has been noted that Lipovetsky has a particular…habit.” 

“He wants a threesome?” Aria blurts, now fiddling with the gold chain on her neck. 

This whole thing just got really fucking weird. 

Hudson’s mouth parts, likely looking for a way to word the whole thing professionally, but to her utter surprise Adler is the one who decides to cut to the chase. 

“He likes taking home married couples.” He states bluntly, nonchalant as he focuses on crushing the charred stub of his cigarette in the ashtray in front of him. 

It’s the first time she’s ever heard Adler speak, his voice low and warm. Though it’s not the sort of warmth one would typically associate with kindness, but rather it brings to mind the heat of a fire and danger. There’s a roughness there too, likely from his smoking, but oh how well does it suit him.

“Oh. Well, that’s…interesting.” Aria huffs with a laugh, feeling honestly a bit relieved. There were definitely weirder things in the world that people were into that she feared. Instead, her body tingles with interest. Married couple. 

“Why me then? This isn’t necessarily my normal line of work.” The woman questions. They could have chosen anyone, but they had chosen her. Hundreds of beautiful women worked here everyday but they somehow settled on her? 

“You both make an…attractive pair. You fit the bill in terms of the target’s preferences, as well the vacation demographic in the city.” Hudson says, arms crossed at his chest. “Apart from that, you’ve so far had an impressive field career, your performance is consistent and high quality.” 

The female agent can’t help the pride that burns in her chest at the praise from such a distinguished and highly respected man like Jason Hudson. Everything suddenly felt like a dream. 

“There’s a lot to lose here, we need more than a pretty face. You’ve got what we need.” Hudson emphasizes, the importance of this mission heavily ingrained to the back of her mind. 

“So…I’m going to play Adler’s pretty little trophy wife and then we’re going to collectively seduce our way into his house?” Aria wonders aloud, Adler and Hudson not moving to interrupt and permitting her speculation to continue. “And then what? Are we expected to fuck the information out of him?” 

Hudson sighs, pinching at his brow in exasperation. Adler jumps in once more, saving Hudson from further embarrassment. “We’re gonna slip him a sedative before things get to that. Special cocktail that’ll make him think he just drank a little too much.”

“Oh, thank god.” The youngest utters under her breath, relieved. Things were definitely easier that way.

“Once he’s out, we’ll mess with the camera system, do recon, collect intel, then get the fuck out.” Adler finishes, intense stare levelled right at her once more. She couldn’t help but squirm, he was almost too much to handle just by existing.

And God, she could listen to that voice all day. She was going to listen to it all day in a short matter of time.

She really loved her job sometimes.

“Sounds simple enough.” Aria resigns, casual as she accepted that her life was just really going to be this outlandish for the next little while. 

“You and Adler will set out the day before and go through the motions and leave a paper trail of your own. The target might try and track you both down just to check his bases.” Hudson adds, arms crossed as he switches his gaze back and forth between her and Adler. 

“If we leave evidence that we’re just a normal couple doing normal things, it’ll reassure the target there wasn’t any outside involvement and we weren’t up to no good.” Aria finishes, one arm perched on the armrest of her chair and the other fiddling with her pen as she returns Hudson’s gaze. 

“Precisely.” Hudson agrees, voice carrying the smallest hint of sympathy. 

It’s almost like he feels bad for her. 

Hudson dismisses them soon after, handing them directives on the particulars of their individual roles and aliases. Adler storms ahead of her to the exit, moving out without so much as acknowledging her once again.

He was an asshole, but a ridiculously good looking one. She would learn to play his game soon enough, and oh, she would press his buttons.

Hudson is quick to catch her disgruntled reaction at Adler’s behaviour. “Adler’s not the most personable, but he’s a damn good agent. He’ll have your back.” The elder reassures, perhaps seeking to soothe the burn of the other’s abrasive nature. 

The woman sighs, turning to flash Hudson a tight lipped smile. “I’ll figure him out, I’m not worried.”

She finishes packing away her items and gets ready to leave, eager to get started on the work ahead. Hudson calls her again as she reaches the door, making her pause in her tracks.

“Remember agent, don’t let me down.” 

Nodding with silent determination, she leaves.

[lacontroller1991]

Is She Mine? (Negan x Wife!Reader)

Anon Request: can you do a negan imagine where the reader was his real wife before the walkers came and after he starts getting more wives and kinda forgets the reader, she leaves in the middle of the night. Then maybe a year later, Negan finds out about another community and tries to take their stuff but he and the saviors get captured and they find out that the reader is the leader? (Optional: maybe the reader was pregnant and Began didn’t know and finds out about the kid)

A/N: Ok I will always associate Negan with Denny Duquette because I watched Grey's before I watched Walking dead and it’s just so weird seeing Jeffrey in a completely different setting.

Warnings: Normal TWD gore, language

You watched from the back as your husband, Negan, pressed another iron to a poor man’s face, causing you to wince as the screams of pain and smell of burnt flesh invaded your nostrils. You looked toward the other wives who looked just as disgusted at what your husband was doing.

You were his first and he was never like this. Always kind and compassionate but then the dead began to rise and he felt the need to grow a shell around his personality, forming an alter ego that everyone knew. No one knew the real Negan, only you, and it made you sick to your stomach watching him turn so sadistic. Shaking your head, you walked away from the group of people that were watching the poor torturing of another worker who dared challenge Negan’s authority. Making your way to your room, you were soon joined by the other wives who ignored you for the most part. They sat throughout the room and talked amongst themselves, reading books or downing drinks that stocked the bar. 

“Well would you look at this, all of my wives are looking so divine tonight,” Negan stated as you all looked at him, waiting for his next pick. Whenever he complimented his “collection” it always meant he was wanting sex and would choose one of his wives to satisfy his needs. For the past three months, it hasn’t been you. It’s never you anymore. It’s always one of the younger and prettier ones who weren’t “forced” but were forced to marry him. Swinging his baseball bat around, the girls ignored his eagerness as his eyes surveyed the room, purposely skipping the corner in which you stood, crossing your arms over the small bump that was beginning to form.

“Tina, come with me my dear,” he spoke out after a moment of silence as Tina nodded and followed him out. Once the pair left, you turned around, hiding your face from the rest of the girls before a pair of heels clicked their way over to you.

“How are you?” Sherry asked as you looked at her with an exasperated look.

“Sick, morning sickness is no joke, and he doesn't even know,” you mumbled as she grasped your shoulder in a comforting way before pulling you into a hug.

“You need to get away,” she whispered in your ear as you nodded with a frown.

“I know.”

You sat in your room, hoping Negan would join you tonight like he did when he first started the Sanctuary. As the clock ticked, however, you realized he wasn’t going to join you, again. Sighing, you sat up and tore off the black dress that hugged your figure and traded it for a pair of jeans and a hoodie, making sure to pack a bag of food and water before sneaking out of the compound and into the neighboring woods, never looking back.

That was years ago and you had joined a small community after journeying into the woods for a couple of days. Sooner than later, after their leader fell ill, the people had decided that with your knowledge and natural leadership qualities that you would be the best fit for the role. You insisted that you wouldn’t take the role, but they were insistent on the job as you had caved in. You sat peacefully on the steps of your hut as you heard a sequel from behind you, watching your daughter run out of the house, being chased by another one of the communities kids. Smiling, you were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by the bell ringing throughout the community.

“What’s going on?” You asked one of the guards as your daughter joined your side, clutched to a scarf that you had tied around your pants for her to cling to.

“Our Ops surrounded a group of men. They demand that they speak to the leader of the community,” one of your men stated as you grabbed a walkie talkie.

“Tate, how many?” You asked and waited for a reply.

“15, they call themselves the Saviors. We have them surrounded,” Tate replied, however, you didn’t hear the rest after the mention of the Saviors.

“(Y/N)?” Earl asked, looking you over as you froze in shock. Feeling the tugging at your waist, you looked down and saw your daughter who had his hair and eye shape stare back up at you.

“Mommy, you okay?” She asked as you smiled down at her and pet her hair, smoothing out fly aways.

“Mommy needs you to stay here okay? Don’t come out until I come and get you,” you stated, motioning for one of the other mothers in the community to watch over your kid. Walking away, you grabbed one of the rifles and followed your group out to the woods to meet the man who forgot you.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” You asked from behind the line of men that barricaded the group.

“We are here to hopefully discuss trading opportunities,” Negan stated, not picking up on voice recognition.

“And by trading opportunities you mean pillaging and plundering.”

“If it comes to it, yes.” Simon spoke as you rolled your eyes, making your way through the crowd to the front to face your husband.

“Not a fan,” you spoke with rigor as you saw Negan stiffen, finally comprehending who was behind him.

“(Y/N),” he whispered, straining against the rope around his wrists.

“Hi honey. Miss me?” You asked with spite as you circled his group, coming to face him.

“As a matter of fact I do,” he admitted and for a second your face softened before turning back to a shell.

“We don't want to trade with you.”

“Babe, you should, I wouldn’t want to use force on you,” he replied with a sick smirk as you let out a laugh.

“I don't think you're in much position to bargain right now, sweetie,” you spat out as he growled and tried to launch forward to you, only to fail.

“Mommy!” Your daughter called out to you as you froze, Negan noticed and looked at you quizzically before turning his attention to the little girl who ran toward you.

“Baby, what did I say?”

“To stay back.”

“Now why are you out here?”

“I don’t have my doll,” she spoke softly as you sighed and ran a hand through your hair before pulling out her doll from your pocket.

“Is she mine?” He asked, earning confused stares from everyone in your group and his. Both groups knew that you are married, they just didn't know that you were pregnant or that your kid was Negan’s.

“It's none of your concern anymore,” you replied, pushing your kid behind you while she peered at the man in front of you.

“(Y/N), if she's mine I have the right to have her with me.”

“Not anymore, you lost that right when you started sleeping around with other women. Listen, we’ll let you go if you promise to never come back here again. if you do come back, we will kill you on sight.” Nodding, he remained silent and glanced over to your daughter who was around 4 years old now.

“Are we letting them go?” Tate asked as you nodded, walking away from the scene, taking your daughter’s hand and leading her away from her father.

Later that night you strolled through the yard and checked everything over before you heard a roar of a car come up to the gates.

“(Y/N), I think it’s him,” one of the guards yelled to you as you nodded, signaling them to let you past the gates and out to the open where Negan leaned against his car.

“Is she?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” He asked with a hint of remorse scattered across his face as you looked at him.

“I tried, I tried getting you to come to my room every night to tell you but you were so busy with all of your other wives that you never did. So I ran. I knew it isn’t safe there for her, it’s not safe there for me either.”

“How far were you when you left?”

“Three months. Her name is Sarah,” you mentioned as he smiled softly and looked at you.

“She looks like you,” he mumbled as you scoffed and looked over your shoulder, looking up at the guards who had their rifles aimed at him.

“She acts like you,” you smiled meekly, running your palms down your jeans.

“I never meant to ignore you. I’m sorry I did, but I would really like to be apart of her life,” he stated as he took your hands in his and you couldn’t find the heart to pull away, missing the physical attention he gave from time to time.

“It's not going to work.”

“(Y/N), please, she’s mine. I am her father. At least let me meet her.”

“No Negan. You’re not safe for her. The sanctuary isn't safe for her. You shouldn’t be here.”

“I miss you.”

“Your pity won’t work on me. I’m not weak anymore.” “You never were,” he admitted as you locked eyes with him, drawn in by his hypnotic gaze but quickly pulled away. Thinking for a minute, you sighed in defeat.

“If you want her in your life, here are some rules. Your Saviors leave us alone, if one of them comes near here that isn’t you, your privilege to see Sarah are gone, as well as your men. You can come by twice a month by yourself and you will be supervised by me. Under no circumstance is she going to the Sanctuary. Deal?” You rambled as he nodded before pulling you into his arms, wrapping around you tightly.

“Thank you. I really do miss you,” he whispered as you stood still before slowly melting in his hug, relishing the way his body heat covers you.

“I miss you too. Don’t fuck this up.”

“I won’t.” He replied before pulling away and getting in his car, driving away, leaving you to ponder all of your thoughts.

A/N OMG THIS IS SO LONG TOO

[darylandbethfanforever9]

Devil’s Backbone

Devil’s Backbone

Chapter 1

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ 

Warnings: Smut, violence, flashbacks of past sexual assault, descriptions of torture and racial slurs

This story will contain spoilers for FATWS, and a few spoilers about Black Widow. This is not a Tony Stark friendly story.

I hope everyone enjoys the story :)

Pairings: Bucky/OC, Steve/Natasha, Billy/Wanda/Grant, Clint/Laura, and Sam/Sharon. Tony/Pepper, (mentioned only).

Summary: In the aftermath of the Blip, Bucky struggled to find his place among the world and the Avengers. However, when he is sent on a mission to Madripoor to investigate a mystery woman, he starts to realize maybe his past isn't too far behind him. Co-Written with WalkingPotterGirl14

The Novosibirsk HYDRA base had been abandoned for at least a few years, but it had been in use recently. The rooms were vacant of any dust, something that James Buchanan Barnes noticed as he surveyed the building that had once been his former home as the Winter Soldier. He couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. He had insisted that the bodies of the five Winter Soldiers be given a burial. Plenty of the Avengers had backed him up when Tony had refused to do so. Anything that was of use had been taken away as evidence against HYDRA, seeing as they had been rebuilding their empire. Bucky couldn't help but remember Zola's words. "Cut off one head, two more shall take its place," the recording of Zola had said gleefully. Bucky had shot the machine to pieces in case the AI had planned on blowing them up. He was just about to leave when he found a file disregarded in one of the rooms that were used for medical use. It was mostly written in a mixture of Russian, Belarusian and Ukrainian. Before he could really take a look at it, though, a voice called out. "Bucky, you ready to go?" Sam asked quietly. He nodded and put the file in his backpack, before leaving the room. They joined the others, who were also ready to leave, and made their way to the quinjet.

The young woman's dark hazel eyes snapped open as she was awakened from her sleep. She looked around the room wearily, wondering where her handlers were and if they had fled? It had been so long… She couldn't remember for how long she had been, however…but the last thing she recalled was being taken away to have her mind wiped. If that was the case, then it had been 2016. What had happened since then? Suddenly, she heard a quinjet starting up above the base. She needed to board that plane, before HYDRA returned. That was her way out. That had to be. Quickly, she started running up the stairs, shielding her eyes from the blizzard, and shivered slightly. However, not even the cold could stop her from climbing onto this machine somehow. She found a back door hatchet in the quinjet, before climbing inside and locking the hatch. She made her way to the lower deck, before seeing a flash of red hair. Her eyes narrowed as she hid, but flashes of her mind came back to her. She knew that hair colour, but she couldn't remember who had it. Damn it. She sighed, before settling down, and prepared to get to her next destination.

Bucky sighed in relief when they landed at the Avengers Facility, but grimaced at the weather forecast. The news reporter said that it would be the coldest March on record and advised people to stay at home until the storm passed. He intended on going to his apartment, have a much needed warm shower and then watch the baseball game with Steve, Sam and Clint tonight. He was going to spoil Alpine. He loved the white fluffy cat that he'd rescued from the streets. He went downstairs to get his backpack when he noticed that it hadn't been where he had put it. He frowned, looking around and shrugged. It wasn't like there was anything important in there from before, but maybe he had left it at the base? No, that didn't make any sense. He lets out a soft sigh and glances away, turning back towards the facility. "Hey," he hears from before, feeling himself smile as Steve emerged, his brow raised. "What's going on? We got a whole pizza in here for you." Bucky snorts. "I don't need that much food." "Debatable," Steve states, chuckling lightly. "But you, okay? You look like you've seen a ghost?" "Eh…think I'm just seeing things." Bucky nods towards the base. "Come on. I'll take a slice and then we head back. We gotta get shelter before this storm hits." Steve nods, pushing him forward gently. "Now that sounds like a plan."

The young woman waits until everyone was gone and the voices had stopped, and only then did she allow herself to emerge from the cargo section of the quinjet, moving as quickly as possible. Jesus Christ, it was cold here too. Why couldn't they have flown to somewhere warm. She glances up at the giant "A" that sat atop this building, and with a start, she realizes that it was an Avengers base. Out of every damn place she could have flown to… You know what? It didn't matter. All that mattered was getting some form of clothing and getting clean. She quickly heads in, taking quick glances around to make sure no one was there. Strangely, there was no one around. But she had a feeling it was most likely because they were in a meeting of some sorts. Great. That gave her the perfect timing. The young woman moves as fast as she could through the halls, looking around, trying to pinpoint out the one spot that she so desperately wanted. And there, near the end, it was. A door with the label 'shower rooms.' She practically groans in pleasure before racing inside, locking the door behind her so she could be alone. While she would like to enjoy this shower as long as possible, she knew her time was limited. So today, it would only be for the basics. As soon as the water had turned warm, she stripped herself of her clothes and stepped in. She always had a regimen, even something she could remember with her fuddled head. Hair, face, body. Those three steps to get it done as soon as possible. And that was exactly what she did, watching as the dirt and grime began to roll of her body in waves. By the end of the shower, the drain was clogged. But hey, it wasn't her problem. And now she smelt of lilacs, so it was even better. She steps out and grabs a towel, unlocking the door and glancing out. There had to be rooms or something here with clothes of some sort. Maybe something she could change into. She had stolen a backpack from someone – maybe that could work. Quickly now, she runs across the hallways to what seemed to be bedrooms, cursing the ones that were locked and then finally finding a few that were open. As she steps inside, she pillages the drawers, finding some jeans, shirts, pajamas, underwear – the whole nine yards. Yes, this was a goldmine. The next couple of rooms seem to have the same amount of clothing, which she steals from as well. Usually, she was never one to just take people's belongings. That was always her caretaker’s orders. If she put one toe out of line, well…that was that. It was the end. But now, her caretakers weren't here. She could do whatever she wanted. And that meant this. As soon as she had changed into some clothes and stuffed several other pieces in the backpack she took, she grabbed some shoes and put them on, heading towards the hallway once more and then racing out. Thank God that this meeting was going on long enough. When she exited the building, she did see plenty of vehicles, waiting to be used. Maybe she could hot-wire a car of some sorts? But as she walked up to a motorcycle, she feels herself smile. Whoever had driven this left the keys in it. "Dumb fuck," she mutters, before getting on and straddling it as quickly as possible. She gives a mock salute to the base before taking off, leaving this area behind.

"What exactly did you find at the base?" Fury asks, his brow furrowed. "All I see here are some old techs that don't quite work anymore. You said this meeting was for something important." "It is, sir," Sam says. "Bucky found this." He brings over the folder that Bucky had found. "He didn't have the time to read it while in the quinjet, but I did, and what's in there is…real fucked up. I don't know if this is going on anymore but…. just read it." Fury takes the file with interest, putting it under a projector so they all could see what was inside.

The file detailed a program called the Black Widow Ops Program that began in the 1950's. It took orphaned young girls as young as five years old to be trained at the Red Room Academy, which was located in the Maryina Horka Forest in Belarus. "The Red Room has ties to an agency called Leviathan. Leviathan is a Soviet deep science and espionage agency. S.H.I.E.L.D had a run in with one of their operatives - a woman called Dottie Underwood. The Leviathan program was shut down in 1963 but the Red Room was already functioning," Steve explained quietly, his voice grim. Fury flipped through the file, his face turning grave at every turn of the file. Everyone at the table was given a copy. Most of the names were crossed out, having died during missions or from training. Bucky glanced at the names, recognizing a few of them. Polina, Irina, Viktoriya, Zorya, Natasha and Yelena. There was another name, but it had been redacted. "All of the people on this list are dead aside from me, Melina, Yelena and Alexei. We shut down the Red Room once and for all after Taskmaster, along with Lukin, restarted the program in 2016. We destroyed the building, and all the girls were killed or had died," Natasha said firmly, her face giving away nothing. He knew better though. She and Yelena were hiding something. "How can you be so sure, Romanoff?" Tony asked snidely, glaring over at her from where he sat next to Bruce and Rhodey. He had been acting like an ass since the Decimation had been reversed. "Because we killed all of them, Stark. They were too dangerous to be allowed to live. Something that the Soldat would know," Yelena answered coldly, her brown eyes flicking briefly towards Bucky. "Don't you dare bring her up, Yelena! You don't have the right to mention her and neither do you Natalia!" Bucky said dangerously. He grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the room. Steve gave Yelena a look of disappointment while Sam ignored her, and both went to check on Bucky. Wanda followed shortly after, with Billy Russo and Grant Ward leaving as well. "We'll continue this meeting in the morning, everyone. Next time, Yelena, I suggest keeping your mouth shut," Fury said warningly, before leaving with his leather coat billowing behind him as he walked out the door. Bruce, Clint, Natasha, Tony, Kate and Yelena were the only ones left in the conference room. An uncomfortable silence hung over them. Clint was the first to say what Bruce and Kate were thinking. "Did you really have to bring up Bucky's past, Yelena? For Christ's sake, he's been through enough. I get that you're mad at him for beating Alexei, but it's not his fault that Alexei got sent to prison!" Clint said angrily, before leaving. Kate left with him. Bruce shook his head. He liked Bucky and didn't understand why Natasha and Yelena harbored so much distrust towards him. Tony hated the man and refused to let him stay at the facility.

Bucky had gone to the garage to get his bike. He just wanted to get away from this place. He knew he wasn't welcome at the compound, but neither was Steve, Sam, Clint, or Wanda for still agreeing with Steve on the accords to an extent. No matter how hard he tried, people were still afraid of him. Some even said on Twitter that Tony should have killed him in Siberia when his arm had been blown off. He sighed heavily, before starting up the engine and drove out of the garage, making his way home. It doesn't take long, thankfully, since they were so close to the city. He parked outside his apartment, heading up the stairs before opening the door and being greeted by Alpine. The fluffy white cat purred at seeing him. He crouched down to stroke him tenderly behind the ear. The cat purred loudly before he locked the door and went to wash his bowl. After finishing that, he gave Alpine fresh water and fresh food and biscuits. He smiled as he watched Alpine eat happily, before turning on the TV and started cooking dinner. "You don't deserve to be an Avenger, you murderer!" Tony had snarled at him when Fury announced Bucky was being added to the team. All he could did now was prove all of them that he did deserve to be an Avenger. It was all he could do. He made sure to text Sam and Stave that he was alright. He didn't want to burden Steve and Sam, or Clint and Wanda. They were good to him, along with Yori and Leah, even though Yori knew it was him that had killed his son.

Anastasia had dumped the bike at the nearest garage before going to a long-abandoned HYDRA safe house in the Upper West Side. She checked to see if anyone had been there lately, but luckily, no one had ever checked the place out. She took off the black leather jacket before checking the office and logged into the computer. She typed in the password, relieved when it was correct and was greeted with a very large amount of money. "You were a bastard, Pierce. I fucking hated you, but at least you didn't lose the money after all this time," she remarked coldly, before deciding to make her way to Madripoor, converting the money to cash just as quickly through the machine. It was probably the safest place for her, considering that the Avengers would soon find out that the HYDRA safe house had been slept in and the money was gone. She counted the notes carefully, stunned that she had over 4.29 million dollars in cash. She intended on donating some of the money though to a few charities that she genuinely liked. The Red Room and HYDRA had always hated how she was still soft despite the brutal training they put her through. Not to mention the days of starvation and having broken bones from sparring sessions.

Natasha had gone to her room to have a shower and get changed into more comfortable clothing, only to realize that some of her clothes were missing. Namely one of her black leather jackets was missing along with a pair of her size seven black combat boots. Did Yelena or Wanda take her clothes? Her brow furrows before she moves outside. "Wanda?" She calls out as she sees the Avenger pass her. She looks up as she does. "Did you take any of my clothes?" Wanda's brow furrows before she shakes her head. "No, not at all. Is your stuff missing?" "Stuff from me is missing too," Yelena says, emerging from her room. "Couple of my shirts." "Huh," Natasha mutters before turning to Wanda. "Sorry for bothering you. Think we might have just misplaced stuff." Wanda smiles a bit. "We all do that sometimes." She waves bye to her as she heads back towards her room, but as soon as she had moved around the other side of the hallway, Natasha pulls Yelena into her room, before closing the door behind her. Instantly, Yelena's eyes turn to her. "What's going on?" "You and I both know what I'm thinking," she says lowly. "Why do we think that our clothes are missing?" "Could just be some kid who broke in." "Come on, some kid can't break into an Avenger's base," Natasha chastises. "Barely anyone knows where this place is unless told…it had to be someone who had tailed us back all the way from…you know where." Yelena's eyes widen a bit. "You don't think-" "We didn't see anyone there but…but what if? There might have been someone who has escaped the HYDRA base when we left and is now just…roaming around New York City. How else would our clothes be missing? They must have stolen them to get clean and then taken off." Yelena bites her lip and then nods her head slowly. "It does make sense." "Fury," she says quietly, bringing Yelena's attention back to her. "There are hidden cameras in the hallways. We could ask him for security access to see who it was." "Fury isn't really in my good graces right now," Yelena mutters.

"It doesn't matter. If the safety of our organization is at stake, he will let you go through his cameras. He'll go down for SHIELD, you know this." She glances towards the door. "We need to try and take care of this. As soon as possible." Yelena nods, sighing. "I know…I know."

She had to admit that New York City was nice. It had been years since she had been to this place, only with the intention of missions, and even then, she could hardly remember what it was like. But with the money she did have now, she might as well buy a few things before she was on her way to Madripoor. As she walks into a tiny coffee shop that seemed to be below an apartment building, she asks quietly for a cup of coffee black and two cookies – might as well get some good stuff in her prior to a long flight. "What's the name?" The barista asks politely. For a moment, she froze. Her name brought back so many painful memories. So many that she wanted to forget. She hated even thinking of her time in that spiteful, horrible prison. So, she makes a change, right here and now. "Ana," she says softly. "It's Ana." The barista nods, writing her name down on a cup. There, a refreshing new start. She was no longer Anastasia. She was Ana. Fair and square, no ifs ands or buts. She wasn't going to be HYDRA's puppet anymore…even if her memory wasn't the same. She moves to take a seat over in the corner, waiting patiently for her food and drink to be done. In the meantime, she saw someone else come in, a man that looked to be slightly older than her but not by much. He had a jacket and gloves covering his hands. She had to admit he was quite handsome, but the last thing on her mind was to get infatuated with a random stranger. Quietly, she listens to his order, what seemed to be a sweeter coffee with a cookie as well, but then he reaches into his wallet and is unable to produce the money for the second item. He sighs and only pays for the coffee, going to sit down. She glances over at him as she hears her name called. "Ana!" Quickly she gets up, grabbing her hot coffee before looking over at the man, quietly glancing down at his phone. If she wanted to start new, she'd start new. She heads over to where he sits, and he looks up at her in surprise. "I…know you don't know me, but I overheard you and-I'm not good with this, just here." Ana gently lowers the cookie onto the table, and a kind smile comes over his lips before he looks up at her. "You didn't have to do that." Ana shrugs lightly. "I heard about the storm that's going to be happening soon…we all gotta look out for each other, right?" She asks. He chuckles a bit and nods. "Indeed, we do…wish others saw it that way." He looks back up at her, his brow furrowed. She tilts her head. "I'm sorry, you…you just look familiar." "Strange…quite sure I've never met you," she chuckles a bit, rubbing the back of her head. "I must sound so weird," he states, shaking his head. "It's okay," she responds lightly, but she had to admit inwardly the stranger did have a nice smile. A part of her wanted to sit down and talk with him more but she knew she had a flight to catch. "But enjoy the cookie, stranger. I have to get out of here. Stay warm." He offers another smile to her. "You too." Ana smiles at him before heading out the door, holding onto her bag tightly and her coffee in the other hand. For a second, she pauses, glancing back at the coffee shop. Strange…he felt familiar too. But that was impossible. The only person she ever knew was long gone…or at least she thought he was. Maybe she was just crazy. Yeah, she was crazy. Ana shakes her head and quickly heads back towards the street, whistling out for a cab. It was time she got out of this town.

"It's nine at night," Wanda mutters, angrily coming into the briefing room with the other Avengers. "What is it that you all could need at this hour? We're supposed to be resting for the upcoming mission." Fury sighs as everyone takes a seat. "We got a big problem – wait, where's Barnes?" "Who cares?" Tony mutters. Steve glares at him before sighing at Fury. "Bucky went home after the incident this afternoon." "Goddammit – get his ass back here. We can start then. And Yelena – keep your mouth shut!" Yelena rolls her eyes but nods, crossing her arms against her chest. Steve grabs his phone, quickly making the call to Bucky. And hopefully, he wouldn't face the wrath of the Winter Soldier when he returned back here. Thankfully, the snow hadn't started yet but soon enough they'd be snowed in.

"Really?" Bucky asks as he comes in, his brow furrowed. "I literally just settled down to relax." "Sit your whiny ass down," Fury states, gesturing to the spot next to Steve, which he does. "Now that everyone is here, I didn't want to wake you all up or bring you in for nothing. We've had an issue here at the compound. Something that all of you need to be aware of." At that moment, he pulls up what seems to be security came footage, and there in the hallways was a girl.

tag list: @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @sapphirescrolls , @americasass81​ @marvelfansworld , @connie326 , @joannaliceevans-fanficblog , @queenoftheunderdark @navybrat817 and @threeminutesoflife , @lex-the-flex, @world-of-aus, @avintagekiss24 and @the-soulofdevil, @gogolucky13 and @kenzieam and @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​

[kanerallels]

My Heart Is In Your Hands

(For Kanera Week, based on the prompt "ultimate OTP moment/night out")

Read on AO3 here!

@kaneraweek

Word Count: 5,250

Tags/Warnings: rated G

Summary: The Jedi throw an engagement party that Kanan and Hera in particular find very... engaging

Hera couldn’t believe how fast the next two weeks slipped by. Maybe it was because of all the work that needed to be done in preparation-- many of the guests invited were Imperial, so they had to make sure there were no signs of Mace, Depa and Kanan’s work with the Rebellion. There was also a lot of cleaning, cooking and various preparations to be done in general. Hera and Kanan had their own way to get ready, going over their story repeatedly to make sure they didn’t forget it, memorizing key details and producing answers for any possible questions that could be asked.

Of course, there was also the fact that Hera had started working with the cell on Lothal, alongside Kanan. She was usually the getaway pilot, but she’d gone on a couple of actual ops as well. After the first mission, Kanan relaxed significantly about her being out in the field, although Hera still wasn’t sure why he’d gotten so jumpy. She didn’t have much time to think about it, though.

Most of the guests would be arriving the day of the party, but a few arrived a couple days before. Kanan and Hera went down to meet some of them at the front door, the first of which was a tall Kalleran. The moment the Kalleran spotted Kanan he all but crushed him in a hug. “Kid! Since when are you getting married?”

“Kriff, Kasmir-- can’t breathe-- Kanan gasped.

Releasing him, the Kalleran turned to Hera and gave her a gentlemanly bow. “Janus Kasmir at your service. A pleasure to meet the young woman who caught Kanan’s heart. I have to know everything. How’d you two meet?”

“Believe it or not, it was only a month or two ago,” Hera said, slipping her arm through Kanan’s. “I was having… a little trouble with a street gang, and Kanan stepped in to give me a hand. By which I mean he handled one of them, and I took out the rest.”

“Give me a little credit,” Kanan protested. “I handled at least two.”

“Uh-huh. Sure, dear,” Hera said, unable to prevent the smile crossing her face at Kanan’s fake chagrin.

Chuckling, Kasmir said, “She’s good for you, kid. I like her.”

“Don’t call me kid,” Kanan grumbled. “But I like her, too.”

“I should hope so, you are marrying her,” Kasmir said with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Excuse me, I’m gonna go say hi to your Jedi mom and your kid who’s cooler than you.”

As the Kalleran strode into the house, Hera turned to Kanan, trying not to laugh. “So, he’s… interesting. I like him, I will say.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Kanan said with some drama, and Hera smirked.

“Well, I kept you around, didn’t I?”

The next guest was an older man, mostly bald with a fringe of white hair, and a white beard. Directing a warm smile at them, he said, “Well, isn’t this a lovely surprise? Two of my favorite people are getting married.”

“What-- Okadiah?” Kanan said, and Hera’s gaze snapped to him.

“Wait, you know Okadiah?”

“YOU know Okadiah?” Kanan countered.

“Indeed,” Okadiah said with a chuckle. “I met Hera when she was just starting out on her own. Gave her a place to stay for a while and helped her on her way.”

“And how did you meet Kanan?” Hera asked curiously.

“It’s a long story,” Kanan cut in hastily. “That we don’t have time for right now. Suffice to say there was a moon that was about to be blown up, actually a few crazy cyborgs, and a couple barroom brawls involved.”

“I’ll regale you with the full tale another time,” Okadiah assured Hera. “In the meantime, let me just say I couldn’t have chosen better for you two if I had chosen myself. I congratulate you both deeply.

“Thanks, Oke,” Kanan said, shooting the older man a smile as he headed inside.

Next, they found themselves facing the third group, which was an eclectic group Hera had not expected-- a Mandalorian woman in green-blue armor, a Mirialan woman with purple skin, curly hair and exceptional fashion, and a human man holding hands with her. In their free hands, both of the latter two carried hefty suitcases, and the Mandalorian was lugging two more.

Grinning, Kanan stepped forward. “Cinya! How are you?”

“Still very willing to punch you out again,” the Mandalorian said tartly.

“But you won’t because he’s only got a week until his big party,” the Mirialan reminded her. Turning to Hera, she smiled warmly. “I’m Hadassah, and this is Lanter.” She nodded at the man next to her, who shot Hera a friendly smile.

“They’re dating,” Cinya said, and Kanan’s eyes lit up.

“About time-- congratulations, you two.”

“Thanks,” Lanter said, grinning. “Congratulations to you-- I can’t believe you’re getting married! Seems like only yesterday Cinya tried to kill you in Hadassah’s juice bar.”

“Good times,” Kanan said remiscently.

“I take it there’s something of a story here,” Hera remarked, and Hadassah laughed.

“You have no idea. Luckily, we'll have plenty of time to tell you. Lanter and I are your stylists for the party.”

“Really?” Kanan said, surprised. “I didn't know Mace and Depa asked you guys to do that.”

“You bet your life, you tall string bean,” Lanter said with a grin. “Lanter and Hadassah are here to save the day.”

Kanan looked at him for a moment, then turned to Cinya. “He watched “The Princess Diaries” on the way here, didn't he?”

Cinya nodded. “Both of them, and he cried twice during the second one.”

“I won't apologize for my love for Clarisse and Joe,” Lanter said dramatically. “They're the ultimate couple goals. Hadassah is my Clarisse.”

“You are so sweet,” Hadassah said, kissing him on the cheek.

Cinya let out a dramatic sigh. "You guys are so ridiculously sappy. Let's get moving.”

The five of them headed into the house and up to a suite that had clearly been prepared for this very reason-- a table was set up with a mirror on it, a swivel chair in front of it. At one end of the room Hera spotted a folding screen set up to change behind.

Lanter and Hadassah instantly started unpacking from their suitcases-- hairbrushes, makeup containers, ear cone pendants, perfumes, and a thousand other things that could be useful. “You… really came prepared,” Hera said, staring as Lanter pulled out a curling iron. “However, I doubt I’m going to need that.”

“Oh, that’s for Dassah,” Lanter assured her. “But if Kanan could just let me do his hair--”

“Absolutely not,” Kanan said immediately. “I already told Sabine she could.”

“But Kanan, I have the perfect--”

“Under no circumstances are you giving me the moose hairdo from “The Princess Diaries”, Lanter.”

Smirking, Lanter said, “But you would be a handsome moose. Make all the girl moose go WHUA!”

Kanan groaned, but Hera couldn’t help but laugh. “I think I’m going to like you,” she told Lanter, who beamed.

“Why thank you, Ms. Syndulla, I like you very much, too!”

Grinning, Hadassah said, “Alright, we have work to do, and I'm sure that you two do, as well. But before you go-- color preferences for your outfits? Keep in mind that they have to be somewhat coordinated.”

“Nah, I trust you not to put me in anything too reprehensible,” Kanan said jokingly.

Rolling her eyes, Hadassah said, “Immeasurably unhelpful. Fine-- I'm thinking of a blue and green color scheme for the two of you. Lanter, what do you think?”

“Perfect,” Lanter immediately agreed. “We'll get to work straight away.”

“And we'll leave you to it,” Hera said. Looping her arm through Kanan's, she tugged him forward, and they headed out.

As they made their way down the hall, Kanan murmured, “Nice job with Kasmir earlier. He can be a little too nosy for his own good.”

“No worries-- he seems nice,” Hera commented. “Very excited about us.”

A slight smile pulled at the corner of Kanan's mouth. “He's an old friend. I'm not surprised he's so excited, frankly. It's kind of who he is.”

Hera nodded without speaking, but felt an internal twinge. Part of her couldn't help but dislike the fact they were deceiving so many people, good people. They didn't deserve to be lied to like this.

And there was also another part of her. A part that found herself noticing Kanan's quiet determination and his kindness around Ezra and the grin he'd give her sometimes-- and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't noticed the fact that she was engaged to an extremely handsome man. There was a part of her that felt a flutter in her chest at his touch.

And that part of her wished that this whole thing wasn't based on a lie.

“Hera?” Kanan's concerned voice broke through her thoughts, and she glanced up to see him frowning at her. “You okay?”

Hera gave her head a quick shake, like the motion would send those thoughts flying. But they’d been there too long for that. “Fine, sorry-- were you saying something?”

A slight furrow in Kanan’s brow hinted that he wasn’t quite satisfied with her response, but all he said was, “I was wondering if you still think your father won’t accept his invitation.”

“Oh.” Hera shook her head. “No, he won’t come. Especially since you’re inviting Imperials to keep our cover. He doesn’t know that-- he’ll probably assume I’m all but colluding with them. So either he won’t come, or I’ll wish he hadn’t.” Releasing a sigh, she said, “I guess I always assumed he and my mother would be here for this.”

Kanan slipped his arm from around hers long enough to catch hold of her hand, and Hera felt her heartbeat stutter as his fingers laced through hers. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, giving her hand a quick squeeze.

“It’s okay,” Hera told him, returning the gesture. “I may not have my father and mother, but I have you, and everyone else here. And at this point, they feel like family almost more than my father does.”

The smile Kanan gave her was a soft one with that unusual warmth shining around the edges, the light that she saw in his eyes more and more these days. Hera couldn’t bring herself to look away, despite the flush she knew was growing on her cheeks. Time to get out of here, she decided. Before I do something truly stupid.

“I should probably--” she started.

“Do you ever--” Kanan began at the same time. They both stopped short, and Hera laughed, feeling a flash of self-consciousness.

“Sorry, you go ahead,” Kanan said, giving her the crooked grin, the one that was Hera’s favorite. For just a second, her gaze lingered on it, and she found herself wondering what it would be like to close the distance, to drop a kiss against the upturned corner of his mouth--

What are you THINKING, Hera? She scolded herself. You can’t just start thinking about kissing Kanan, not now. Clearing her throat, she said, “I was just going to say that I’d better get going-- plenty to do before our party.”

“Right, yeah,” Kanan said, and was Hera imagining it or was there something a little strained about his voice? “Same here. See you later?”

“Yes-- but didn’t you want to tell me something?” Hera asked.

Kanan opened his mouth to speak, and stopped for a moment. Closing it, he finally shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’d better get going.”

Releasing Hera’s hand, he headed off down the hall, leaving Hera staring after him. Well, that was… strange. But she really didn’t have time to spend thinking about why Kanan was acting so strangely.

So of course, over the next three days leading up to their engagement party, that was all she thought about. Especially since Kanan seemed to be avoiding her. He was always out on some sort of business of some kind or in a fitting with Lanter or working to help clean out the ballroom.

And Hera didn’t feel hurt by that. That would be ridiculous. They were both busy, she didn’t exactly have time to spend with him either.

Or maybe she was avoiding him, too. Either way, it didn’t matter. Much.

Alright, it definitely did matter, but some part of Hera didn’t want to bring it up. Maybe she was afraid of the answer, maybe she was afraid she’d lose what she had with Kanan, maybe she was afraid that she was falling in love with a man she wasn’t supposed to technically fall for.

So she kept pushing aside the thoughts, and threw herself into working for the engagement party. And before she knew it, it was the evening of the party, and she was heading up to Hadassah’s suite to get her dress.

The Mirialan was waiting with excitement stamped across her face, and a companion-- Depa Billaba. Throwing her a smile, Depa said, “Don’t mind me, I’m just here to see my future daughter in law get ready. It’s my prerogative.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Hera said, giving Depa a smile and pretending like the “daughter in law” part didn’t throw her for a loop. “Okay-- where’s my dress?”

“Here,” Hadassah said, darting over to the changing screen and pulling a dress on a hanger from behind it. She held it up, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “What do you think?”

Hera’s eyes widened at the sight-- a sleeveless dress with a high neckline, made of fluttery fabric, the color shading from teal into a deep cobalt blue. It was stunning-- Hera knew just by looking at it that she’d never owned anything so expensive and beautiful in her life, other than the Ghost.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, brushing a hand across the smooth cloth. “I-- I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Well, Depa paid us,” Hadassah said with a shrug. “But you can repay us by going out and having a good time with your fiance tonight. Speaking of which, I’d better get going-- Lanter’s waiting for me downstairs.”

Giving them a quick wave, Hadassah slipped out of the room, leaving Hera with Depa. Glancing at the Jedi, Hera said, “Thank you. I don’t know how I can repay you--”

“No repayment necessary,” Depa said firmly. “I’m happy to do it.” As Hera admired the dress for a moment longer, she added, “However, I do have a question for you.”

Hera glanced at Depa curiously, and saw the Jedi wearing a patiently curious expression. “I’ve noticed you and Kanan have been avoiding each other lately. Did something happen?”

“No, I-- we’re not-- what makes you think--” Hera stammered, and Depa held up a hand.

“Hera. I’m not the blind one. You two used to spend every day together, but I haven’t seen you with my apprentice in days. What’s going on?”

Hera bit her lip, her eyes flicking from Depa to the floor and then back again. Part of her felt that saying how she felt out loud would make it far too real. But the sympathy and understanding in Depa’s eyes pulled the words out of her. “I don’t want to avoid him. But things are just… complicated right now.”

Narrowing her eyes, Depa said, “Did he make a move on you?”

“What? No, of course not.” Hera felt herself flush at her next words. “Do you think-- would he-- never mind.”

“Ahhh.” A knowing smile grew on Depa’s face. “I see.”

“See… what?” Frustration boiled through Hera at the almost desperate curiosity in her words. She felt so irritatingly petty about this whole thing.

“That you’re in love with my apprentice,” Depa said matter of factly.

Oh. Oh, dear. But she wasn’t wrong. “I… I didn’t expect this to happen,” Hera said softly. “I had no idea that Kanan would be…” Handsome? Charming? So incredibly caring and kind? The kind of man I could spend my life with?

“I know,” Depa said, her tone soft and sympathetic. “It can’t be easy to be in a relationship without actually being in a relationship. Hera-- if I may give you some advice?”

“Okay,” Hera said hesitantly.

“You don’t seem to be the kind of woman who would give her heart easily. But if Kanan’s the one who’s earned it, don’t give up on that. Both of you deserve better than that.”

“He does, you’re right,” Hera agreed, her voice low. “I just don’t want to ruin what Kanan and I have by--”

“Telling him that you love him?” Depa reached out and touched her hand, her eyes kind. “You don’t have to. But honesty is important in any relationship, whether it’s romantic or not. And will you regret it if you don’t? Just think about it, please.”

“I-- I will,” Hera promised, unsure whether it was fear or determination swelling in her chest. Depa smiled and gave her hand a quick squeeze.

“Good. Now, get dressed. You have a party to get to.”

Half an hour later, Hera was wearing the amazing dress Hadassah had given her, along with a set of silver ear cone pendants set with teal gems and a matching bracelet. She waited by the door of the ballroom for Kanan, who still hadn’t arrived. Is he even coming? She wondered with a flash of worry-- silly worry, really. Kanan wouldn’t just stand her up, and it was his party, too.

Seconds after she thought the words, she heard footsteps behind her, and Kanna’s voice. “Sorry I’m late,” he called. “Ezra needed something before I left.”

“Don’t worry about it--”

Hera’s words stuttered to a halt in her mouth as she stared at Kanan, who gaped right back at her. She usually saw him in his casual every-day wear, or occasionally Jedi robes. What he wore now was nothing like that.

He wore a crisp white shirt with long sleeves and dark trousers. Over the shirt, he had on a navy blue jerkin with teal embroidery that brought out the vibrant color in his eyes. At his hip hung his lightsaber, which Hera had only rarely seen him with.

“Wow,” he breathed as he stared at her. “You’re… wow.”

“You… you look incredible,” Hera managed. And it was the truth. A small smile lifted the corner of Kanan’s mouth.

“Thanks,” he said, closing the distance between them and capturing her hand in his. Hera felt her heart start pounding as he gazed at her, seeming to drink in the sight of her. “But trust me,” he murmured. “No one’s going to be looking at me when you’re standing next to me.”

“I will be.” Hera felt her face warm the minute the words slipped out of her mouth, because it sounded like flirting. It was flirting, she knew. But she really couldn’t help herself, especially with him standing inches away from her, looking at her the way he was.

A crooked grin danced across Kanan’s face. “Really, Captain Syndulla? Flirting at a time like this?”

“Well, it is our engagement party,” Hera pointed out, feeling a ridiculous sense of relief. Kanan was here with her, and even his presence made this whole thing a little easier to deal with. Well, except for the fact that she was incredibly caught off guard by how handsome he looked tonight.

Offering her his arm, Kanan said, “That’s true. And we should probably head in. Are you ready?”

Looping her arm around his, Hera replied, “Not remotely. Let’s do this.”

“That’s the spirit.”

They moved into the ballroom subtly, but somehow everyone noticed them the moment they set foot inside. Hera could feel the eyes on her, and she stiffened, trying not to panic. Kanan’s thumb brushed against her bare upper arm, sending a quick shiver down her spine. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice too low for anyone else to hear. “Take a deep breath. I’m here.”

Somehow, that was more comforting than anything else he could have said. Hera took a quick deep breath as Mace and Depa headed their way. Depa was clad in a lavender dress, while Mace looked majestically elegant in formal Jedi robes, the dark scar across his eyes totally unhidden.

Giving both of them a warm smile, Depa said, “You both look wonderful, although you are a little late.”

“Sorry-- Ezra was trying to convince me to smuggle him cake in my pockets,” Kanan apologized.

“I’m sure that’s what the guests will think happened,” Mace muttered with a small smirk that looked a little too much like his grand Padawan’s.

“Manners, Mace,” Depa said. “And I can’t believe I’m saying that to you instead of the other way around. Okay, here’s what you two need to do-- mingle a little bit, say hello to the guests. Make sure to greet Governor Pryce--”

“Absolutely not,” Kanan said flatly. “She’s the reason Ezra’s parents are--”

“I know that, but we have to be careful, Kanan,” Depa said, her voice firm.

“What-- Pryce isn’t some invincible succubus,” Kanan protested. “She’s a regular succubus, who can be defeated.”

Releasing a sigh, Depa turned to Hera. “When Pryce comes over-- she’s the one with the short black hair, Imperial uniform--”

“Don’t look straight into her eyes, though,” Kanan muttered.

“Why, because she’ll turn you to stone?” Mace asked.

“No, because her eyes are ugly.”

Letting out a sigh, Depa said, “Perhaps it’s better if Hera does the talking.”

“Perhaps,” Hera agreed.

“Fine,” Kanan said, not looking upset. “Anything else?”

Nodding, Depa said, “Yes. Actually try to have a good time. And don’t forget to have at least one dance.”

“Finally, something I can get behind,” Kanan said with a grin, and Hera was suddenly very aware of how close they were standing, of his arm brushing against hers.

She saw a slight smile flicker across Depa's face, but all the Jedi said was, “Have fun, you two.”

Turning, she led Mace away as the music began and a few couples started to move out onto the dance floor. One in particular caught Hera’s eye--- a man with dark hair and a scar across one eye, dressed in all black, including a long black coat embroidered in gold. At his side was a slight woman, her long curly hair hanging loose and free. She was dressed in a floor length golden silk gown, with a decorative aqua panel along the bodice and a matching sash. Slim straps hung the gown from her shoulders, which were bare except for a gauzy aqua veil that was clasped to her wrists with cuffs made of the same golden silk.

“Is that Senator Amidala?” she asked Kanan quietly.

“Yeah-- as it turns out, giant engagement parties are a really good way to get your Rebellion contacts in close proximity so you can exchange information. There’ll probably be a meeting tonight with some of the leaders-- including them.”

Hera followed Kanan’s discreet nod to a dark haired woman wearing dark blue, dancing with a man in a matching cape who Hera suddenly recognized. “Wait-- Senator Organa’s here, too?”

Nodding, Kann said, “As is Senator Mothma, the Duchess of Mandalore, and about a dozen others. The Jedi aren’t submitting. We’re just waiting for the right moment to strike.” Flashing her a teasing grin, he added, “And to think, you thought we were just sitting around letting the Empire walk all over us.”

“Well, you were acting that way very convincingly,” Hera pointed out.

“Glad to hear it.”

Spotting a tall woman in Imperial greys making her way through the crowd towards them. Hera muttered, “I think I spotted your friend, Governor Pryce.”

“What? Kriff.” Kanan grimaced. “Time to pretend to be polite.”

“Unless you didn’t see her, and you had something else very pressing to address,” Hera pointed out. “After all, you do owe me at least one dance. Probably more.”

A grin slowly crossed Kanan’s face. “I do, don’t I?” Giving her a bow, he offered her a hand. “Will you dance, Captain Hera?”

Placing her hand in his, Hera said, “With you, I will.”

The two of them moved out onto the dance floor together. The music in the background was sweet and elegant, and she had an excellent partner. True to form, Kanan’s movements were smooth and graceful. “You dance better than I expected,” Hera observed.

“I’ve been practicing,” Kanan admitted with that crooked grin of his. “Didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of my fiancee, after all. Spin.”

Hera obligingly twirled away from Kanan, her hand still locked securely in his. With a gentle tug, Kanan brought her back to him, his arm slipping back around her waist. Hera felt her breath catch as she met his eyes, and was suddenly very aware of the space between them. She was close enough she could sense the warmth of Kanan’s skin, and the look in his eyes as he gazed at her sent a flutter through her stomach.

“You’re staring, dear,” she told him in a soft undertone.

“Is it that obvious?” he asked, his voice equally low.

Lifting an eyebrow, Hera said, “I mean. A little.”

A small wince crossed Kanan’s face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable isn’t the word I’d use,” Hera replied, and something flickered in Kanan’s eyes.

“Then… what would you call it?” he asked, his low baritone holding a soft question beyond his words.

“Cherished.”

The word slipped out before Hera could help it. But it was true. No one had ever looked at her the way Kanan had, the way he was looking at her now. Not like she was an object or a price on the slave market. Like she was something truly priceless.

Kanan’s eyes widened, and he started to speak. But before he could, a voice caught their attention. “Kanan! Mind if I have a word?”

Hera glanced towards the sound, catching sight of Anakin Skywalker heading towards them, a bearded man at his side who Hera realized must be Obi-Wan Kenobi. He shot Hera a look that could only be translated as “I am so sorry for this” as Anakin paused next to them.

“It’s important,” he told Kanan as he and Hera came to a halt.

“Of course,” Kanan said, releasing Hera and stepping away from her. Hera thought she saw a flash of reluctance in his eyes, but if it was there, he masked it well. Glancing at her, he said, “I’m sorry--”

“It’s fine, love,” Hera told him, forcing a smile. “I’ll leave you to it.”

She slipped away from the three of them and headed into the crowd, feeling Kanan’s eyes follow her as she walked. But it wasn’t long before she was out of their sight.

At the far end of the ballroom, there was a door that led out onto a balcony overlooking the Lothal prairie beyond the house. Hera made her way there, and slipped outside.

The cool night breeze was a relief after the nearly stifling warmth of the ballroom-- although not all of it was from the amount of people in there, Hera knew. She felt heat sweep over her again as her mind wandered back to dancing with Kanan, the warmth of his skin seeping through her dress.

Taking a quick breath, Hera pressed her hands against the cold stone of the balcony railing and stared out at Lothal’s moons shimmering amongst the stars above them. Two out of the three were full, just like the night when she’d first met Kanan. She never would have thought that evening that all of this would come about, that she would end up engaged to a man she’d just met.

That she would end up falling in love with him.

Hera pressed her eyes shut, taking a shaky breath. Force. She wasn’t even sure if he felt the same way. But that didn’t exactly stop her from thinking about Kanan, from wanting to be near him, from wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

“Hera?”

Kanan’s voice came from directly behind her, low and warm. Hera took in a quick breath, then turned to face him. The light from the doorway illuminated him from behind, the shadows obscuring his expression.

“Depa said she saw you heading this way,” he said, moving up next to her. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” Hera said, and Kanan settled beside her, resting his forearms on the balcony railing.

“Sorry we got interrupted earlier,” he said, flicking a quick glance her way. “Apparently, Skywalker’s daughter had collected some important intel he wanted to share as soon as possible.”

“It’s fine, love,” Hera said. “I understand.”

She sensed Kanan stiffen next to her, and frowned. What did I-- oh.

“You called me love,” he said, his voice soft.

“I-- yeah, I did,” Hera said, feeling herself flushing. Of course this would be how it came out. She was trying to think of what to say next when Kanan spoke.

“Do you ever wish this was real?”

Hera froze, her brain going blank. All she could manage to say was, “What?”

“This whole thing, this engagement. Do you ever wish it was real? Because I-- I can’t lie to you, Hera.” Kanan turned towards her, and Hera felt her heart stutter against her breastbone as he met her gaze. “I do,” he said. “I’m sorry--”

“Don’t be.” The words slipped out of Hera’s mouth, but she didn’t even try to take them back. She couldn’t, not with the way Kanan was looking at her now, his eyes wide but full of something that made Hera flush.

“Hera,” he whispered. “I would never, ever do anything to push past your boundaries.”

“I know,” Hera said, her gaze locked on Kanan’s face and her heartbeat steadily rising as she watched him.

“But I really, really want to kiss you right now.” Kanan paused, his eyes lingering on her, then stepped a little closer. “Can I…?”

Hera closed the distance between them without hesitation. Her lips met his, and Hera was nearly swept off her feet by the dizzy array of emotions washing over her. A strong arm slipping around her waist steadied her as Kanan kissed her back, gently drawing her close.

They broke apart a few moments later, and Hera took a quick breath in. “Force, Kanan.”

“Can you tell I’ve been waiting a while to do that?” Kanan asked, his voice amused.

“Maybe a little,” Hera said, letting her forehead rest against his. “I-- how does this even happen? Who could have seen this coming?”

Kanan paused, then let out a soft chuckle that Hera more felt that heard. “Uh. Possibly Mace.”

“What??” Hera pulled back enough to see his face. “What are you talking about?”

“The first day you were here, he told me the Force led him to you, and it wanted you here,” Kanan said. “I didn’t know why at the time, but he seemed pretty confident.”

“And you think the Force wanted us together?” Hera said, lifting an eyebrow. “The mystical Force that binds the whole galaxy together could not possibly be invested in our relationship.”

“Well, you never know,” Kanan said, giving her a cocky smirk. “We are pretty amazing.”

“You are a pain, dear,” Hera said with a roll of her eyes.

“Lucky for you I’m your pain,” Kanan said. Pausing, he asked, “Will you call me love again?”

“Kiss me, love,” Hera said, and Kanan happily obliged.

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Playin' With Fire

Summary: Dani has moved in with Will and Benny Miller. One night they throw a party and she finally gets to meet the final Special Ops teammate, Frankie. There is an obvious connection between the two, but what happens when life throws a roadblock in the way of them being together?

A/N: So here it is. My first ever Frankie fic, my first ever Pedro Character fic, my first ever fic that has all the parts completed. I would like to say a BIG thank you to @221bshrlocked for the mood board because hers is TEN times better than any of mine were. Each part will have their own warnings. Translations will be at the end of every chapter, let me know if any of them are wrong. Also let me know if I've missed any warnings. Y'all forgive me if my writing is crap.

Warning: Explicit language, mentions of someone getting handsy, um dirty dancing?, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 4,205

It was a warm summer day, Benny’s birthday to be exact. Will had decided to throw a party at their house for him. Will had mentioned that their childhood friend, who they called ‘Tequila’ just moved in with them. Frankie had shown up early to help Will assemble the new grill he had gotten. He never expected for his entire life to be flipped upside down.

He knocked on Will’s front door three times before it swung open and there she stood. Dirty blonde hair that hung just below her breasts, eyes so blue it put the sky to shame. He was sure he looked like a damned fool, mouth agape, probably catching flies. Then she smiled, and Frankie’s heart beat faster than ever thought possible.

“Hey, you must be Catfish. Will told me he was expecting you.” She greets him and her voice sounds like a fucking angel. There was no way that she wasn’t messing around with Benny. She looked just like his type.

“I’m Dani, Will and Ben’s roommate, but everyone calls me Tequila.” Frankie groans internally, he was so screwed. She opens the door a little more and moves out of the way. “Will’s in the backyard.” She points through the house.

Frankie hurried past her and mumbled a “Thank you”. Frankie’s eyes were trained to the floor as he briskly walked toward the kitchen and out into the backyard.

“Fish!” Will bellowed with a huge smile on his face. “I guess Tequila let you in.” The two men embraced in a bro-hug. Frankie nodded, moving over to where Will had the grill pieces laid out.

“She did. You never mentioned your new roommate was a woman and hot.” Frankie responded, looking over the directions. “You know man, you pay like fifty extra bucks and they put this shit together for you.”

It took Frankie and Will three fucking hours to put the grill together. By the end of the last hour, Frankie was cursing Will, telling him he’d never help him do something like this again; Although, they both knew that was a lie. The two men walked into the kitchen, where Dani was prepping the steaks for dinner. “Finally done, boys? I threw a couple of buds in the fridge for y’all.” She chuckled as the back door opened.

Frankie knew he shouldn’t, but walking up to the fridge, he couldn’t help but steal a gaze at her back side. The shorts she was wearing left almost nothing to the imagination. Her tanned legs seemed like they went on for days. Her feet clad in converses, which made Frankie laugh, because who wears those any more.

Dani heard the laughter and turned around, seeing Frankie looking at her feet. "My shoes funny to you, Catfish?" She asked, with a playful smile on her face.

Frankie's head shot up. " No, no. I love Chuck Taylors as much as the next person. It just surprises me that people still wear them." He explained himself, hoping she didn't catch him staring at her ass, too. Frankie opened the fridge and grabbed two beers, before asking her if she wanted one. She shook her head, stating she doesn't drink beer. Frankie wondered what that meant, and handed the other beer to Will who watched the scene unfold in front of him with a smirk on his face.

There was about an hour to kill before everyone showed up to celebrate Benny's birthday. "The steaks should marinate for at least another half hour." Dani explained to Will, "And make sure you don't burn 'em this time, Ironhead." She teased him, and he threw a hand over his heart, feigning that it was broken. The two went about the kitchen prepping side dishes for the night.

Frankie was outside, trying to figure out why the grill wouldn't light and he was sure Will fucked something up. He couldn't help but wonder what Tequila and his friend were talking about.

Dani turned to her best friend, "So, what's Catfish's story?" She asked, twiddling her fingers. Will looked at her with a raised brow.

"Frankie? Why?" Will questioned her teasingly. Blush covered her cheeks and she averted her eyes to the floor.

"I dunno. He seems sweet." She replied and Will smirked, giving her a knowing look. "Will, stop it. All I said was he seems sweet." She playfully smacked the other blonde.

"Well, Ironhead. I figured out what you fucked up." Frankie's voice boomed as he opened the back door. He noticed that the two were talking and apologized for interrupting.

"It's fine, Frankie." Dani smiled, "What did this dumbass do now?" Frankie realized that was the first time she said his real name, and it was the greatest thing he has ever heard.

Frankie turned to Ironhead. "Maldito idiota. You forgot to connect the gas line. The whole place could have gone up." Will's eyes almost popped out of his head.

Tequila turned to Ironhead. "What the fuck, Will?!" She screeched. Will threw his hands up in defense.

"I'm sorry. I got distracted." He tried to save his ass. "I swear I connected it."

Frankie and Tequila rolled their eyes. "Well, I hope your girl of the week knows she almost killed us." Tequila groaned and walked outside, knowing exactly what was keeping Will distracted. Frankie just shook his head and followed her.

"Hey," he started as he walked up to her at the cooler. She gave him an acknowledging nod as she pulled a bottle of tequila out. "Oh. Is it time for the hard stuff,already? Una chica después de mi propio corazón." The spanish rolled off of Frankie's tongue and Dani could have fallen over.

She would never admit it to anyone, but she had a thing for languages. Or maybe she just had a thing for Frankie and his Spanish. She wasn't sure which. "Yeah, well after finding out your best friend almost killed you for a few nudes from his fling of the week, tequila seems appropriate." She forced a laugh. Frankie definitely caught on that she described Will as her best friend and that he was having flings.

Frankie nodded in agreement. "So, is this why they call you Tequila?" He tried to change the subject, pointing to the bottle of Patrón. She shook her head 'no'. Before she could tell him, Will stuck his head out the door, yelling that Santiago was here.

"Santi!" Tequila squealed, rushing to the door, and she missed the look on Frankie's face. It was a mix between hurt and confusion. How did she know Santiago when Frankie had no idea she existed? Frankie groaned and walked toward the house to greet his friend.

Dani had already made it inside and was wrapped in an embrace with Pope. “Fuck,” Pope groaned with a smile as Dani jumped into him. “Hey, Tequila.” He hugged her tightly.

“Look here, jerkface,” She said as they separated, “Next time you hook up with one of my friends and leave me to deal with her crying, I’m kicking your ass.” She poked him in the chest to get her point across.

Santiago just hung his head and mumbled a “yes ma’am” before Frankie caught his eye. “Lo que hasta hermano” He greeted one of his oldest friends. He looked at Dani and mouthed “help me” to Frankie, earning another poke from the blonde girl.

“Estás solo, hermano. Ella da miedo.” Frankie smiled, pointing to Tequila. She huffed and crossed her arms.

“Oh, fuck you guys. I’m fluent in Spanish. Deja de hablar mierda de mi.” The words rolled off her tongue with ease and Frankie almost lost his shit right there. Lucky for him, Will broke up the tension.

“Benny just texted me, he will be here in twenty. Tom is bringing Molly and will be here in about fifteen.” Dani excused herself to go get ready, claiming she wasn’t presentable for a party. If it had been up to Frankie, she wouldn’t have changed at all. He found himself excited when she came back about fifteen minutes later in the same shorts, shoes, and a cropped Guns-n-Roses t-shirt.

The party was in full swing. The seven of them were gathered around the fire pit. The group was too many drinks in and knew they would be crashing here. Thankfully Benny and Will had the room.

“So, Dani. Why do they call you Tequila?” Molly had asked and Will and Benny started laughing. Dani just shook her head. Benny answered before she could.

“Because Dani can knock you on your ass with one good shot, just like Tequila. Trust me, I know.” He explained, speaking from experience. Molly looked at her with wide eyes and she just shrugged.

“I bartended my way through college. Sometimes an asshole would get too handsy. It paid off to have two protective guys who taught me how to throw a good punch. Plus, I really like tequila.” She winked at Frankie, referencing their conversation earlier in the day, taking a sip of her tequila sunrise. She made a face, realizing it had watered down. “I’m going for another, anyone else need one?” She offered and everyone raised an empty bottle.

She got up from her chair and turned toward the house. Frankie got up too, “I’ll help you,” he offered, ignoring the whistle Santi let out. He was clearly feeling good. Frankie flipped him a quick bird and continued into the house.

Inside, Dani was already grabbing bottles out of the fridge, mumbling about how they have already almost finished off their stock. “Oh, here” Frankie started, leaning on the counter. Dani closed the door, turning her attention to the man beside her. “Let me help.” He said, taking the bottles out of her hands, seeing her struggle to hold them all. “Can I ask you something?” Frankie gets the words out before he changes his mind. She hmms in response.

“How have we never met? I mean you obviously know Santi.” He takes his hat off to run a hand through his hair. Dani smiled at the sight of his hair all disheveled.

“I’ve been asking myself that all night. You do seem to be the better of the bunch.” She flirted, hoping he would return the gesture and he did.

“You are definitely not what I was expecting when Will said they had a roommate.” He smiled, leaning a little closer to her. Dani noticed and moved closer herself. Before they could cross that line, they were startled apart by a very inebriated Benny.

“Tequila!” Their drunk friend slurred, “Wha’re you ‘n fish doin’? Cat, you hittin’ on my girl?” He tried to be serious, but Benny stumbled over his own feet into Frankie.

“Woah, Benny. Careful.” Frankie caught him and set him up right. Dani laughed, he always was a lightweight.

“We were just about to bring the drinks out.” She says, grabbing the bottles off the counter, leaving a couple for Frankie to carry.

Back outside, Dani and Molly danced to whatever music Will had playing. “Yeah!” by Usher came on and Molly squealed that she loves this song. “Dance with me, Tequila!” She pulls her closer and Dani lets her, the alcohol clearly gone to her head. The two girls are all but grinding on each other. Tom quickly gets up, knocking his chair backwards. He takes Dani’s place dancing with Molly, grumbling something she would never repeat in public.

Frankie wanted nothing more than to join her now that she was dancing alone, but Santi beat him to the punch. “Baila conmigo, cariño.” He whispered in her ear and she giggled. Frankie wished it had been him to get that noise out of her. Dani shook her head and pushed Santi away.

“Solo en tus sueños, playboy.” She responded and it was Frankie’s turn to laugh. Dani walked away from Santi over to where Frankie sat. “Dance with me, Frankie?” She asked sweetly. How could Frankie say no?

He followed her just as a Def Leppard flowed through the speakers. She began moving her body to the beat of “Pour some sugar on me”. Frankie did his best to keep up with her, but he kept losing concentration, especially when her ass connected with his crotch one to many times. His hands instinctively went to her hips and pulled her closer. “Joder, princesa. Tienes que parar antes de que pierda el control.” He groaned into her neck where only she could hear him.

She turned to face him, throwing her arms around his neck to pull herself closer. “Tal vez eso es exactamente lo que quiero.” She purred in his ear.

The sun beamed through Dani’s window way too early the next morning. She groaned and rolled away from the penetrating light. As she turned, her hand hit a warm body and it elicited a groan. “Too early.”

Dani’s eyes shot open, trying to see who was beside her. Looking around, she realized that she was not in her room, but instead in Will’s. “Will?” She questioned, berating herself for going this far with her best friend. The other person threw the blanket off their head and Dani let out a sigh of relief. Seeing Frankie took the weight off of her shoulders.

“Hermosa, did you just call me Will?” Frankie asked, sleep thick in his voice. Dani was so embarrassed.

“Sorry, fish. I opened my eyes and saw that we were in Will’s room. What the fuck happened last night?” Dani questioned the man beside her as she sat up to assess the room. She looked around for any indication that something transpired between them last night.

“Trust me, Tequila. You’d know if we slept together.” Frankie sighed, as he swiped a hand over his face. Cocky much, Dani thought; However, he was right, she didn’t feel like she had sex. “I need coffee.” He griped, throwing his legs off the bed and standing up. Dani caught him out of the corner of her eye. He had on sweats and no shirt. She turned her head, shamelessly checking him out, before he pulled his shirt on. “Take a picture, Teq.” He laughed and she threw a pillow at him.

Dani forced herself out of the bed too, happy to see her drunk self had put on decent pajamas. The two padded into the kitchen as quietly as possible. They had passed Santi and Ben passed out on the couches.

“Where are Molly and Tom?” Dani whispered to Frankie and he just shrugged. Frankie rummaged through the kitchen searching for the coffee. “Teq, where are the filters?” He yawned, holding up the coffee can.

“Shit, we might be out.” Frankie whined at her answer. “Come on. There’s a coffee shop within walking distance.” She continued, heading towards her room. She opened the door and found out where Molly and Tom were. “Holy shit!” she gasped and immediately turned around. Frankie heard her outburst and rushed over to her, seeing the same sight as her, Molly perched on Tom’s lap, moving in an obvious way.

“Jesus,” Frankie said, covering his eyes.

“I’m just gonna borrow some clothes from Benny.” Dani said walking away and closing her door. Once in Benny’s room, they found Will sound asleep. Dani quickly picked up some sweats and a tee from Benny’s drawer. “I’ll be right out.” She told Frankie as she entered Benny’s bathroom.

When she emerged, she had dressed and her blonde locks were haphazardly thrown into a bun. Frankie loved this look on her. She was just as beautiful as she was last night, and this looked more natural on her. “You’re staring, Catfish.” She teased him, “Let’s go get coffee before anyone else wakes up.”

The walk to the coffee shop was a pleasant one. It was about 7am and the North Carolina humidity hadn’t set in yet. Frankie and Dani chit-chatted the whole way. She had learned that he had met the guys while in the service. He joined right after high school, just like them. He was their pilot. His favorite color is black, and that is exactly how he likes his coffee. He drives the same chevy he got on his 18th birthday, and has no intentions of getting rid of it because “she still purrs like a kitten”.

He learned a lot about Dani, too. Her favorite color is purple. She likes her coffee with just cream. She met Benny first, since they were the same age. She is an only child, so Ben and Will are basically her older brothers. She just finished her residency at the county hospital and is getting ready to take her boards. She absolutely loves 80’s hair bands and country music, but has a soft spot for R&B and rap.

They were nice enough to get coffee for everyone, even though Tom and Molly seemed to have enough energy this morning. “I have to buy a new mattress now.” Dani cringed at the thought of what Molly and Tom were doing.

They got back to the house to see that everyone was now awake, and fully clothed. Dani gave Tom and Molly a dirty look and they both apologized, confusing everyone else in the room. Frankie started handing out the coffees, getting mumbled “thank yous” from the group.

“Are those my clothes?” Benny asked, gesturing to Dani. She nodded and proceeded to tell everyone why she had to wear Benny’s clothes.

“Holy shit. You need a new mattress now.” Will snorted, his face drawing up in disgust.

Dani laughed, “That’s exactly what I told Frankie!” Molly’s face was beet red and Tom just hung his head. “Awh, come on, guys. We’re just kidding. Although, I do need a new mattress.” She tried to lighten the mood.

Frankie quietly sipped his coffee, trying to figure out if he should ask Dani out on a date. They’ve only known each other for a day and Frankie can’t imagine his life without her, even just as a friend.

What seemed like hours passed and the group slowly trickled down until it was just Benny, Dani, and Frankie. Benny was the next to leave, loudly saying he was going to take a nap and for Frankie to behave himself. Frankie just shook his head at his friend.

“I guess I should be heading out soon.” Frankie sighed, not wanting to leave. Dani nodded, trying not to look disappointed.

Frankie scooted closer to where she was sitting on the couch, lifting her outstretched legs over his. The two sat in silence, purely enjoying each other’s company. “Fish,” Dani started, “You wanna get dinner sometime?” She asked, biting her lip nervously. Frankie looked at her, shocked, that she asked first.

“I would be damn stupid to say no.”

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. Dani and Frankie had become best friends. Even through all of the flirting, they never crossed that line. Dani was working at the hospital, and Frankie was back on rotation at the airport. He was gone most days, but he was due to come back for a short time.

Frankie was ready to be back home. He loved flying, but now he had something worth being on the ground for. He had called Dani before his last flight left, telling her he would be back by 9am the next day.

Like clockwork, Frankie was knocking on the door at the Miller Party House™ by 9:30am. Dani begrudgingly dragged herself out of bed and threw on her robe. She scurried toward the door, pulling it open to reveal Frankie with a bouquet of sunflowers. Frankie laughed, “No need to get dressed up querida, it's just me.” He teased her.

Dani pulled him into the house and hugged him tight. “Fish! I can’t believe you’re here.” She said sleepily. Frankie smiled at her tiredness. She just looked so damn cute in her fuzzy robe and bed head. “Give me thirty and I’ll be ready.” She yawned as he released her from his hold.

He watched her pad her way down the hall to her room, his smile never leaving his face. He made his way to the kitchen, knowing where everything was, he started a pot of coffee. Even though they were going for breakfast, he knew she would want a cup to-go.

True to her word, thirty minutes later, Dani emerged from her room, dressed in distressed jean and a black T-shirt. Her hair was thrown into a messy bun, her signature go to. She walked into the kitchen where Frankie just finished making her cup of coffee.

“Just the way you like it.” He promised with a wink, as he handed her the cup. She happily accepted the hot beverage. Taking her first sip, she moaned at the heavenly taste.

“You are the best, Cat.” She murmured, walking past him, only stopping to place a sweet kiss to his cheek. She all but inhaled the drink, before she slid her feet into her trusty converses. The two made their way outside and climbed into Frankie’s Chevy.

The drive to their usual diner, Luanne’s, was a short one, but it was filled with laughter. Frankie was at his happiest when Dani was with him. They pulled into the parking lot, Frankie backing his truck into ‘his’ spot. He hopped out of the cab, rushing to the passenger side, so that he could open Dani’s door.

“Who says chivalry is dead?” She joked as the door opened and Frankie held out a hand for her to take. She gladly accepted it and slipped out of the truck. The two walked hand in hand to the door. Frankie pulled it open to see Luanne standing behind the counter.

“Well look what the cat dragged in! I ain’t seen you two in a hot minute.” She greeted them, not bothering to get menus because they always ordered the same thing. “Your usual booth is open, go on and take a seat. I’ll get the coffee.”

Frankie and Dani mumbled a “thank you” in unison as they moved toward the back of the restaurant. Just as they were getting comfortable, Luanne walked up with a thermal carafe and two coffee cups. “What have y’all been up to?” she asked, sitting down the coffee and some cutlery.

“I just got back into town.” Frankie explained, “Had to drag this one out of bed.” He laughed as Dani stuck her tongue out at him.

“Well I’ve been taking extra shifts at the hospital. I think I’ve earned the right to sleep in.” She shot back at him with a smile.

“Y’all are the cutest. What are we getting today? The usuals?” She didn’t need to ask, she already knew. They nodded. “ Alrighty then. Coming up darlin’s.” Luanne walked away, leaving them to each other.

“So, extra shifts at the hospital?” Frankie asked her as he poured coffee, sliding her a cup.

“Yeah. Residency is kicking my ass. I’m trying not to fall behind.” she told him. “I take my boards in a week and I’ve logged almost no time in neuro.” She sighed. She didn’t want to go into neurosurgery, but she still needed the hours.

“You are going to be the best damn trauma surgeon Memorial has ever seen.” Frankie promised her, “And if they can’t see that, then fuck 'em.” He smiled at her. Luanne brought them their breakfast and they halted their conversation.

When they were done eating, Frankie insisted on paying, telling her she could get it next time. They left the diner and went back to Dani’s place. “You have me for the day, hermosa. What do you wanna do?” Frankie asked her. Dani tapped her pointer finger to her chin, pretending to think.

“I believe we have a show to catch up on, Morales. Seeing as I can’t watch it without you.” She teased him. “You grab the snacks, I’ll get the drinks, and get Hulu up.” He nodded in agreement and they separated.

When Frankie entered her room, she had blankets and pillows set up in a mock fort on the bed. How she did it so fast, he will never know, but he isn’t complaining. The two settled down and turned on ‘Sons of Anarchy’.

The show was gruesome and Dani hated watching it without Frankie. “Hey, fish?” She started, “Doesn’t Jax look a lot like Will? I mean, if he had long hair?” She asked, and Frankie studied the screen.

“Nah, I don’t see it.” They laughed and continued watching. She wasn’t sure how many episodes they watched, but she looked over and Frankie had fallen asleep. She closed the laptop, moving off the extra pillows, and covered Frankie with a blanket. His signature hat was falling off his head and she set it on her nightstand.

Dani sat there on her bed, looking at her best friend sound asleep. He looked peaceful. His face smooth of the worry lines he normally sported. His curly hair in disarray. She couldn’t help but smile. In that moment, she knew there was nowhere else she’d rather be. She curled herself up in the bed next to him, where she drifted into a relaxing slumber.

Translations:

Maldito idiota - Fucking Idiot

Lo que hasta hermano - What’s up brother

Estás solo, hermano. Ella da miedo - You’re alone, brother. She’s scary.

Deja de hablar mierda de mi. - Stop talking shit about me

Baila conmigo, cariño. - Dance with me, honey

Solo en tus sueños, playboy - In your dreams, playboy

Joder, princesa. Tienes que parar antes de que pierda el control. - Damn it, Princess. Stop before I lose control.

Tal vez eso es exactamente lo que quiero - Maybe that’s exactly what I want.

Hermosa- beautiful

Querida - Dear

[chidoroki]

Okay, so this is basically a follow up post to all the thoughts I had about season 2 the night before the first ep aired. You’re welcome to read it if you wish but I’ll let you know that it’s a mess and does contain manga spoilers. If you don’t wanna that’s perfectly fine, but the main thing I rambled on about was the possible episode count for season 2 and where in the story this season will end.

I’ll try to give a short version of that post now though. I was certain that we would get 24eps for the second season when it was first announced, especially due to the large gap of time in between when S1 ended and when S2 was originally going to start. I believed that a 24ep season would end at ch101, right before the two-year time skip. But then 2020 happened. Anime series got delayed and Cloverworks also has two other series premiering this January alongside TPN. So I thought another 12ep season was reasonable. Though if they wanna split up a 24ep season and give us the second cour over the summer I’d be perfectly fine with that too. The only reason why I had trouble wrapping my head around a 12ep season was.. where in the hell were they planning to end it? I had several ideas, which I mentioned in my other post with little more detail, but ch60, ch64, and ch74 were some of my guesses. Of course I would love to see Goldy Pond animated but with a 12ep season, I had my doubts. S1 adapted 37 chapters and if S2 were to at least reach ch96 then that would be the next 59 chapters, which seemed a bit much at first. Then came the issue with starting the possible next season with the time skip and eh, the idea didn’t sit well with me?

But now, after seeing the second season’s OP and first episode, I’m honestly reconsidering my original guess of ending at ch101, even if we get 12eps. Let’s start with the OP first. While it’s completely beautiful and I already love “Identity” with all my heart and soul, a couple things really stand out, some more obvious than not.

First off, Peter appears. His debut chapter is 73.

Then we get this shot of Phil, who doesn’t show up again until ch100.

Next up is Emma’s braid & hair-clips. Along with her fantastic Goldy Pond outfit, the clips first appear in ch75. However, she receives three from Sandy: blue, yellow & green. Not only is the blue clip missing, but her hair is now braided. This style didn’t appear until ch102.

Ch102 is.. post-time skip, which surprises me? I honestly never thought we would get a glimpse of that this season. Unless it’s an error perhaps? This other shot has Emma with the two clips & braided hair, but then you would think Ray would have his scarf here too, right? Neither of them look much older either.. maybe the anime just decided to go with two clips instead of three? I dunno.

But then you have Anna’s hair which is significantly longer here... which I’m pretty sure isn’t until post-time skip? I doubt it grew that long in between the events of Goldy Pond and the Cuvitidala search, since it was only what..5? 6 months? I tried to spot her during the ch102 flashbacks but didn’t see her, so pretty sure this is post.

And then we also see Yvette wearing her goggles, which also shows up post-time skip. Well, she actually obtains them mid-time skip, because there’s flashbacks of her with them in ch102, but also one that shows her without them that happens around July/August 2046.

I’m not trying to say that just because the OP shows us some future scenes/people/changes that we’ll actually reach that far this season. It would be nice, sure, but they could just be teasing us too. I know this is a minor detail and it shouldn’t prove much of anything, but they did give us real small cameos of Michelle & Olivia in the first ending, “Zettai Zetsumei,” and yet we didn’t see them in the flashback in s1ep10. 

So now I’m still on the fence a little bit. I mentioned before that I would love for Cloverworks to expand on the Cuvitidala search during the two year time skip, but would that work better at the very end of a season or at the start of one? Who knows.

Speaking of seasons, the first episode of this one? Can you believe we’re already at ch45? I knew all the action would go by at an alarming fast pace, compared to the dialogue heavy S1, but damn. And that was with some of the added anime scenes! Granted, they also heavily changed the snakes of alvapinera and took out Isabella’s scene from ch38 completely but.. yeah. Although, I’m seriously hoping they include her scene at some point in the future? Because how could you forget this wonderful woman? I’m grateful they gave us that quick glimpse of her in the OP (with her hair down still! so i thank the anime staff for that at least!) but come on.. I was really looking forward to seeing her again, darn it.

One thing I’m sure about is that we’re reaching shelter B06-32 and seeing our favorite father figure because, hello.. the shelter jackets!

Speaking of the geezer, I was also actively looking for him throughout the OP, but had no such luck. I saw some people think he appears in the above mentioned screenshot, I think? but I counted 15 heads, so I believe it’s just the GF escapees here. Why everyone else is wearing them aside from only Emma & Ray.. I have no clue, but they all look nice!

Also, that screenshot got me thinking (as if i didn’t just do a whole bunch of that again already) more about Goldy Pond at the OP itself. While the opening sequence didn’t currently give us any large hints that arc will happen anytime soon, I could see Cloverworks updating it to incorporate the many characters that have yet to make an appearance. I think these two shots could easily be changed by replacing the escapees with the GP Resistance and showing the poachers instead of the wild demons.

Not only there, but any other group shot could work out too. Of course “Identity” would stick around as the song (because it’s an absolute banger) since I don’t see any point in having it last less than 12eps? Yes I know, S1 switched up the ending songs and “Lamp” only showed up for 3eps, but shhh.

Anyways, that’s enough out of me. (also r.i.p to all the extra pages i hoped would get animated. no such luck so far because the anime seems to be flying by like hayato.)

[ptergwen]

truth serum

a/n: ok ok ok i've had to post this four times now because it won’t show up in tags for some reason? i’m so :/ tumblr pls stop setting me up bruh. but moving on here’s a summary of the original request and i hope ya like

warnings: little bit of cursing here and there

-

when tom asked if you‘d be interested in going to a comic con with him, there was only one answer: yes. you‘ll take every chance you get to see him in his element. you’re looking forward to checking out some of the cool exhibits they’ll have — and people. comic con is a safe space for all your nerdiness. so really, both of you will be in your element that day.

the only thing you’re uneasy about is tom’s fans. you have no idea how they’ll react to seeing you by his side for hours on end. paparazzi caught you together once or twice, but you couldn’t tell much from their blurry pictures. that didn’t stop everyone from talking.

you’ve been named his new “mystery girl,” and tom still hasn’t adressed the whole situation. no matter how much he loves his fans, he’s not willing to spill every single detail of his personal life. spending time with his girlfriend doesn’t need some big explanation to please the public.

this is the first time you know for sure that you’ll be seen with him. comic cons are huge, and somebody always has their phone out at these things. you don’t want the fans to end up hating you for being there, or tom for bringing you. the way he sees it, they should just be happy he’s happy. anyone who isn’t never truly cared in the first place.

tom usually arrives early to go over his schedule and any last minute details. this time, he’s sleeping in a few hours extra with you. no one knows better than him that all day events can be draining. he wants you well rested and feeling good for it. since people are already at the venue, you’re using a different entrance to avoid getting mobbed.

“stay close, okay? i’m not sure what it’s like in there yet. might be a few people by the door, or a crowd.” you’re walking hand in hand with tom through the back lot. he feels you tense up next to him at the mention of a crowd. they overwhelm the hell out of you, and you’re suddenly feeling way underprepared for this.

“but we’re going in through the back. how are they gonna know that?” you grip his hand tighter without realizing. tom half smirks at your question and leads you over to the door. “my fans figure everything out... almost everything. you ready?”

shrugging your shoulders, you lean into his side for comfort. “sort of. i’m just getting nervous about being around so many people.” “i know, baby. not gonna lie, it’s pretty scary at first. but i’ll be with you the whole time.” he presses a quick kiss to the side of your head. you do feel better knowing he won’t leave you alone when you get inside.

“just try turning your nerves into excitement. it works for me every time. “i’ll do my best. i guess we can go in for real now.” tom’s thumb brushes over yours reassuringly, looking at you once more for any signs of doubt before he opens the door.

only a couple of fans notice tom is there, so it’s not as hectic as you thought it would be. he waves to them and says hi, a smile lighting up his face. you chew your lip nervously and let him take you to where he needs to be. obviously, you get a few stares. some pointing, some whispering. they’re all things that come with being pressed into tom holland in front of thousands of people.

tom brings you over to the check in area and gives both of your names. a woman with a headset on hands him two ID cards. he thanks her before pulling you aside so you two can have a moment of privacy.

“how is it so far? feeling okay?” his voice is soft unlike the yelling around you, which is nice. tom slips the lanyard with the ID over your head. “i’m getting used to it. i don’t know how you do this almost every day,” you admit, tugging on his own lanyard that he’s holding. he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“i’ll tell you what, it’s a lot easier when you’re with me,” he mumbles into your ear, using that as a way to subtly leave a kiss to the skin. the little things like that are what will keep you together throughout the day.

a man with a headset and planner comes up to tom. why are so many people wearing headsets? he reads off tom’s plans for today, then ushers the two of you over to do meet and greets once tom has everything down. tom already called and explained that you’d be joining him, so he had it arranged for you to sit with the photographer and watch.

that’s definitely going to get people curious. he doesn’t mind too much, as long as it makes the experience more comfortable for you.

“i’ll be right over here. you’ll tell me if you need anything, yeah?” tom gazes out at the long line of fans waiting to see him, meeting your eyes after. “don’t worry about me. go give your fans some hugs.” you squeeze his hand and smile to let him know you’re okay. he smiles back even bigger before going over to greet the first person they send over.

this set up is way better than what you’d expected. you get a front row seat watching tom do silly faces and poses, and he can check in with you from time to time. there’s the occasional “who is that?” or “is it true that you’re dating her?” question from someone nosy.

tom responds with something along the lines of “that’s y/n. she’s a really lovely girl. she’s super awesome,” followed by a wink only for you to see. you find yourself having to hide your blushing face from all of his antics.

after about two hours, tom gets a break from photo ops. he decides to use the time to do whatever you choose, since you’ve been watching him for a while. you just walk around until there’s an announcement that a hypnotist show is about to start, and anyone can attend. you’ve never seen people be hypnotized in person, and it sounds like it could be fun.

tom lets you pick the seats. you end up towards the front for a closer look. his hand rests on your thigh as soon as you’re both seated, missing being able to touch you all day. you lace your fingers with his and watch as the show starts.

you’re both having a good time, laughing along at all the different segments. the guy hosting it is really entertaining. “now, let’s move onto a part of the show i like to call ‘truth serum.’ it’s simple. i’ll choose a member from the audience and get them to spill their guts for all of you, about anything i ask. who shall it be?” he rubs his chin and looks around the room.

he makes eye contact with people around you. you’re regretting getting seats in the third row. you pray he won’t call you up, but that would be too convenient. “ah!” he claps his hands together, gesturing to you. your mouth runs dry. “thanks for volunteering, come on up!”

you look at tom, silently asking if you should. “go on. i kind of wanna see this,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you devilishly. clenching your jaw, you walk past him and onto the stage. the hypnotist taps a chair for you to sit. you just had to be the lucky person he chose. “can we get a round of applause for...” he holds his microphone down to you.

“y/n,” you say into it, your voice coming out shaky. there are at least two hundred people staring up at you right now. “y/n!” he repeats. “everyone put your hands together for this brave soul.” the audience claps, tom cheering the loudest among them all.

“so, y/n. you seem excited to be up here,” the man jokes. tom watches with amusement as you give an unsure smile at the audience. “is it that obvious?” you get a few laughs. maybe this won’t be the train wreck you’re anticipating.

“extremely. y/n, i want you to look at your right hand for me.” he takes a step back, you doing as he says. “focus on your fingers and how they’re curling towards you. keep focusing. notice how you’re feeling more and more relaxed.”

everything he’s saying is actually happening. wanting to remember this, tom takes out his phone and starts recording. “bring your hand over to your forehead. let yourself feel the skin to skin contact. just like that.” you’re starting to feel sleepier. “and close your eyes.” the hypnotist snaps, and there’s silence throughout the auditorium. “you’re in a deep sleep. well done.”

you’re completely passed out with your head hanging low. everyone claps again, gasping and chatting to each other. tom is one of the gaspers. “y/n, you just guzzled a whole can of truth serum. you’re an open book. you love to share. when i snap again, you’ll wake up and answer whatever i ask you. truthfully,” the hypnotist tells you.

he waits a moment, then snaps his fingers. your head immediately snaps up. more gasps. tom puts his hand over his mouth, muffling his laughter at whatever you’re about to say.

“good morning, y/n. how are you doing?” “stiff. my neck hurts a lot for some reason,” you answer honestly, rubbing the back of it. the hypnotist has a smug grin on his face. “very good. we’re going to start off with some basic questions to see where you’re at. they mirror the five senses. y/n, what’s your favorite thing to hear?”

“my boyfriend’s voice. oh my god, and he has the cutest hiccup laugh,” you clasp your hands under your chin. tom is glad his phone is hiding his face so no one can see his cheeks turning pink. “hiccup laugh?” the hypnotist makes a face. “it gets stuck in his throat sometimes. it’s actually so cute.”

“what about your favorite smell?” “oh, that’s an easy one. sandalwood.” you casually reveal to the audience. “tell us why you like sandalwood so much, y/n,” the hypnotist prompts you. “it’s the scent of shampoo my boyfriend uses.” tom practically melts when he catches on. all your favorite things so far are related to him.

“i think we should skip ahead and talk about that boyfriend of yours. you seem to really love him, huh?” “more than anything. if you were planning to ask about anything else that’s my favorite, i’d say him.” there’s a big “awwww” from the whole audience, tom included.

“isn’t that sweet? where is your boyfriend right now, y/n? i’m sure he’d want to hear this.” “he just did, he’s in the audience.” you tell the hypnotist as if he should already know. tom’s lovestruck smile fades away. he hopes the hypnotist realizes it’s too personal to make you keep talking about something like this.

you have no control over what you’re saying, and it’s not going to end well. “why don’t you point him out for us so we can give him a big round of applause?” scanning around for tom with bright eyes, you get out of your seat. you point at him. “he’s right there.”

the whole audience turns to look at who you’re pointing to. tom lowers his phone, his mouth open in shock. everyone starts shouting as soon as they notice it’s tom. you’re confused over what the big deal is, since you’re still not fully yourself. the hypnotist realizes the mess he just caused, quickly sitting you down again to bring you out of it.

“y/n, i’m going to snap again. when you wake up this time, all the truth serum will be out of your system,” he says just to you over the noise, tom sinking down in his seat to avoid questions. the man snaps his fingers. there’s silence like the first time, everyone waiting to see what you’ll say.

you have no memory of anything that happened a few seconds ago. all the eyes on you are freaking you out. “wh- what did i say?” you ask him, biting down hard on your lip. his eyes dart over to tom. he speaks to you without the microphone. “you told the audience about your boyfriend.” it takes a second for you to register what he said. then you see tom down low in his chair, and you’re humiliated.

for yourself, but mostly him. you can’t believe you exposed your relationship in front of all these people. you run off the stage and out of the auditoruim, too embarrassed to say anything else. tom doesn’t hesitate to chase after you.

you’re breathing hard and fast, stopping somewhere there aren’t too many people around. your mind is racing while you try to figure out what’s going to happen next. someone puts a hand on your shoulder. it’s tom. he turns you around to face him.

“fuck, i- i’m so sorry. i don’t know what was going through my head, i shouldn’t have talked about any of that stuff. this is gonna be a nightmare for you,” you spit out all at once. tom only pulls you to his chest. he rubs circles around your back, trying to calm you down.

“it’s not your fault, angel. you didn’t have a choice about saying those things. you know that, right?” huffing, you hide your face in tom’s chest. “but still. i exposed us and i exposed you and now everyone knows something you didn’t want them to. you should hate me right now.” his lips press into a deep frown at what you’re saying. he rests his chin on your head and sighs.

“baby, i’m not mad. the only reason i wanted us to be a secret was for you.” you look up at him hesitantly, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “so i didn’t destroy your whole career in two seconds?” “of course not. there have been way worse things i’ve had to deal with than publicly dating my really lovely, super awesome girlfriend. this won’t be easy, but i promise we’ll get through it together.”

you cheer up a bit hearing him repeat his words from earlier, nodding as you let yourself process everything.

“do you think anyone got me on video? or will they just post about what i said and everyone will believe them?” “i personally recorded the whole thing. not sure about the rest of the audience though,” tom proudly admits to you, making you groan into his chest. “great. that means we should probably say something before the twisted versions of the story come out,” you reason.

he considers it for a moment, and you can see when a lightbulb go off in his head. “what if i officially introduce you to some fans at my next round of photo ops? tell them about us, see how it goes. then we can decide what our next move is.”

it’s a huge relief that he’s taking this slow and giving you a say on how to go public. feeling brave, you peck his lips as a thank you. he’s surprised at first, but kisses back. he can finally see why those annoying pda couples exist. his arm takes its place around your shoulders again, yours going around his waist this time.

“let’s go share our not so secret relationship with the world.”

[skye-huntress]

RWBY V8 Episode 13 “Worthy” Reactions

There is so much going on in this episode and naturally because it’s the penultimate episode, so much conflict still in progress. I may miss or forget things and this will take me a while to get out because I have so much nervous energy it took me half an hour just to start typing. So keep that in mind as you read on

People were saying the plan went so smoothly but as I pointed out in my last reaction, local comms going down was and has thrown the evacuation into disarray, we can see it. So already we have Jaune and Nora splitting off from their team to spread the message, leaving less people to secure the gathering point in Vacuo

Second complication, a sandstorm that cuts off local comms and makes it impossible to know where Vacuo is. And a growing number of terrified refugees just out in the open with less than a handful of fighters to protect them. No way back to relative shelter or to even warn the rest either because true to his nature Ambrosius built exactly what they ask for.

Third complication, I wondered why Cinder seemed to be prepared for their plan. I thought Watts somehow also intercepted comms between Winter and Weiss but it seemed a stretch. Using the last question is going to bite her in the arse later, but I suppose she is in a damned anyway if she can’t give Neo Ruby before Salem respawns

And now we can also confirm she knows of Emerald’s “betrayal” but unless she leaves or gets knocked through the Vacuo portal, we may not get a confrontation this volume. Hard to say what she makes of this, she’s only shown to treat Emerald as someone she can use, much like how Cinder herself was and is being used.

Also Jinn definitely looked remorseful, but just like Ambrosius and the other spirits, she has rules to follow. BTW, I thought of a possible loophole for Jinn’s question limit. She can only be asked three questions every 100 years but I find it curious one question was already used. So my question is would it be possible to ask Jinn the same question twice. Technically it would not be a fourth question, but is that technicality enough to at least allow Jinn to repeat information for new ears.

Watts has access to the Command Centre. Jimmy’s need to control everything has once again backfired and given the enemy everything they could possibly want to do as much damage as they desire

All those people that Cinder blasted off the edge just to get RWBY’s attention, this has always been who she was, which is why there will not be any form of redemption for her. Even if she turns against Salem, it will be for her own selfish reasons and it is why she’ll never truly be able to escape from her fate

Our first RWBY vs Cinder fight (and probably not the last). Not many places worse for them to fight (if at all), with little ground (not a problem for a flying enemy), no cover, civilians in the line of literal fire (and glass). Got knocked off, game over. Speaking of which...

And Neo. Fucking Neo. And of course, protective big sister to the rescue. And she is the first to fall.

I did find it interesting that she seemed to vanish at a certain point on the way down. I interpret as proof, it’s not some endless void, there is something down there. And of course, there has to be a way back. We’re talking the Y of RWBY here, not to mention half the show’s most prominent LGBT+ couple. Contrary to what some individuals claim, RT do not do “Bury Your Gays” or “Queerbaiting”, at least not intentionally. As I said for Penny when she got hacked, Yang is going to be just fine, eventually. She’s not fine right now, obviously, but this isn’t the end for her. RWBY isn’t that type of show.

Ruby seems to be just surviving, no time to think or process what happen unless she wants to end up dead-dead by her sister’s supposed murderer. In this case, it is somewhat fortunate that Ruby’s coping mechanism is through actions, but when she stops it’s going to catch up with her

As for Blake, who got over repressing all her emotions several volumes ago, is not only the one to lose it the most but has gone absolutely feral. Still, she is not so far gone that she isn’t completely unaware that Penny and Weiss are unless in danger. Dilemma, exact vengeance on Neo, or lose another person you love?

While I’m on this point though, this is an excellent example of the destructive nature of the cycle of vengeance. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. In her pursuit of vengeance, Neo has naturally made herself the target of the same type of vengeance. Precisely why killing often not actually a final solution, it also has consequences as well.

I fear for Penny but I’m still confident she’ll survive this somehow. She is something new and unique, a whole new chapter of her life has just started and it would be anti-climatic and a huge waste for the show not to explore that. Besides, if Cinder has learned anything than she knows the relics must take priority over her power lust. All the power of Maidens won’t save her from Salem if she doesn’t return with both of them.

Weiss seems to be the one in most trouble right now, and in most danger of falling next. Still, I’m curious to see if her Nevermore summon will come into play again. A finale seems like the best time for it, and could potentially be a tide turner, perhaps more so than the Queen Lancer summon in Volume 5. She could use more wins.

Back to the Loser Ops. Hoping Marrow is okay. But of course, Harriet is still set on delivering that bomb. Much like her boss, she seems incapable of admitting she is wrong or has lost. I don’t think most people expected Vine to be the next one to concede that Jimmy was not the one to follow, but it makes sense. At that point, blowing up a city for man who has already lost is the furthest thing from logical. It’s just spite at that point, and just a way to make sure everyone loses.

So the bomb is back in play, thanks to Harriet. And while everyone is focused on her, no one will notice Watts pulling the strings from behind the curtain. But what is his target? He wouldn’t waste such a thing on mere civilians. It could simply be to occupy and/or eliminate several powerful combatants, given the villains are currently outnumbered. Still, he’s in his element and the last person we want to underestimate now. If this is truly the end of Atlas, this may probably be his last great act of villainy before he truly falls into irrelevancy and expendability

Lastly, Jimmy F@#$ing Ironwood. Forcefield prisons are such a bad idea. And of course, we can’t forget Chekhov’s gun-gun-gun. We had to see it in action and what it can do to a person. He recovered extraordinarily quickly, but then his body is more machine than man at this point. Also, as I predicted, shattering his aura did not snap him out of it. Atlas the city, the idea, is everything to him. He stopped seeing the people in it a while ago. He’ll kill them all if it will keep the city afloat.

I have complicated feelings about Jacques Schnee. I don’t need to tell anyone how much of a terrible person he is but I can’t ignore the truth that not everything he touched turned to shit. Weiss is perhaps my favourite character in the show, and she would not only not exist if it weren’t for Jacques, she wouldn’t be the person she is that I love now if Jacques was any different as a father. Same goes for Whitley and Winter. It’s a reminder that some good can come from even the shittiest of people acting in the shittiest of ways. He was also right about Ironwood all along, can’t forget that.

That all said, Jacques did not deserve to be murdered like that, whatever his crimes. The man had nothing left, no threat to anyone anymore. He should have lived for the rest of his pathetic existence knowing what he lost.

So now Winter is facing Ironwood again, this time she is alone and he is armed. Neither are in the best shape. I only see this ending with one or both of them dying.

One final note, Yang may be gone but... what if instead of the others also falling... those still standing take a leap of faith to jump after her and whoever else falls

[the-extra-joker-art]

What You Deserve

And I ope-

May or may not have written some indulgent shit involving Deacon angst and my Sole Survivor, Happy. Really I just used Happy cause using a nameless Sole felt awkward ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I don't usually post written fanfiction, so critiques welcome!

Deacon wasn’t quite sure how long he had been chained up. He was sure it had only been a couple of days, but it felt like weeks. The Gunners that had locked him up thankfully had no idea who he was, or who he worked for, but all that did was make their visits less frequent and the long hours of the day blurrier. He was fading in and out of consciousness, hunger gnawing at his stomach whenever he opened his eyes and the numbness in his arms chained above his head was getting progressively more noticeable. Every now and again, he’d wake up to the sound of the door opening, followed by laughter and conversation, but his wakefulness would be quickly ended by a swift kick to his gut or the butt of a gun slamming against his already bloody forehead. As of right now the pain coursing through his entire body was nothing compared to the mental beating he was giving himself. He had no idea how he had gotten caught. It wasn’t supposed to be anything beyond a scouting mission; they had gotten word that a courser was lurking around a spot near Goodneighbor, and his job was to test the claim with his own two eyes. To his surprise though, the spot was actually a recent nesting ground of the Gunners. Deacon still had no idea where the courser claim came from, but he didn’t have much time to scout out an answer, because as soon as he found the camp the Gunners greeted him with a concussion to the back of his head. When he woke up, he was already chained to the wall of a windowless room that smelled of blood, vomit, and booze. He was dizzy enough already, but when more than one Gunner came in to interrogate him by adding more cranial wounds, he lost all sense of his surroundings. Apparently, the Gunners didn’t find his witty remarks charming at all. He couldn’t stop berating himself for getting caught. He was careless, he hadn’t checked his surroundings nearly enough. He should have asked around before he scoped it out, gathered intel. But instead he had to pull a Happy and rush in head first. He winced at the thought of Happy and the others. Were they worried? He was sure they would expect him to be more careful, to be more thorough. He wasn’t even sure if rescue would come in time before the Gunners decided they were done asking meaningless questions and just killed him. Deacon had fucked up bad, and he knew it. He chuckled, and gasped at the painful tightening in his chest. He was hoping he’d die a significantly more meaningful death than being killed by his own carelessness; Maybe he’d die saving someone, or blowing up the institute. At least a martyr's death would be more fitting for his chosen job, but this one seemed more deserving. Dying in the basement of mercenary bastards, without knowing if rescue would come, without nearly enough repentance for his past was just the kind of death someone liked him deserved.

“You’re a good man, Deacon…”

Deacon winced. Happy’s face flashed in his mind, the day after he had told her about his past, she looked at him differently. Almost with a look of awe, like she admired him. He couldn’t believe that even if he tried, but unlike most days, he was far too weak to stop himself of thinking of what she had said,

“You’re a good man, and I’m glad that out of everyone, you chose to travel with me.”

He wriggled against his binds, gasping in pain as the nerves in his arms started to feel again with the movement.

“The Wastelands are a little more bearable with you by my side.”

Deacon hadn’t realized he had closed his eyes so tightly, and when he opened them, he was shocked at the moisture on his cheeks. Tears ran down his face, silently falling against his filthy shirt. He couldn’t help but feel somehow this failure was letting Happy down. He knew it wasn’t, but his heart ached at the idea of her wondering why he wasn’t back yet, if she was worried at all. Again, he had no idea how much time had passed. Maybe she hadn’t even thought of him. He could imagine her helping another settlement, MacCready at her side, completely concentrated on supplying the people inside with water and defenses. Deacon's mouth twitched into a wry smile. Helping a settlement was considerably more important than saving one man from his own mistakes. He tried desperately to concentrate on the image of Happy in his mind, her face scrunched up in a smile, but he could feel his conscious slipping already. His body was going numb again, and he knew sooner or later he would fall back into restless sleep again. Using the last of his strength, he tried to think of an apology for his mistake. What he would say or write down in a last note for Des and the others, how he would thank them for making something of his life, for fighting to save so many synths. How he would thank Happy for dealing with his bullshit, and for staying with him despite everything. He would thank everyone for what they’ve done for him, and apologize for his failure. His mistakes. Again, he’s letting everyone in his life down. He blinked back tears as everything faded to black around him.

Deacon's entire body jolted as a loud crash filled the room. The sudden awakening made pain surge through his entire body, numbed limbs trying in vain to pull against his binds. He couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or not and his attempts to look for the source of the noise was met by blurred shapes. A giant shadow loomed over him, blocking the light from the door that he didn’t even realize was now open, and he groaned as he turned his head up, his gut clenching in fear as he realized the outline of a suit of power armor standing over him.

“Heh... You really didn’t have to put on your good clothes to… Finish off little old me…” Deacon forced a chuckle, his head lolling to the side. Power armor seemed a little much for killing one man, but he supposed these Gunners were the dramatic type. He tried to keep his eyes open, but his strength was wavering, and his breath uneven.

“Oh my god, Deacon…” A familiar voice came from behind the mask, “What did they do to you?”

Deacon tried to lift his head, heart racing as he recognized the voice tainted by the suit's robotic lilt.

“H... Happy…” He tried to say more, to speak more and apologize. For what he wasn’t sure, but he just felt he needed to. “I’m… Sorry…”

“Shh, Deacon. You’re okay. It’s okay.”

He barely even registered the lock on the chains being broken by the power armor's superior strength, letting out a pained breath as Happy gently placed his arms at his side. Deacon felt her wrap a metal arm around him as he began to fall to the side, his tired mind wondering how she was able to treat him so carefully in her hulking suit. He groaned and jolted when he felt a stimpack being stabbed into his leg, hand coming up to weakly grab onto her arm. He was trying to stay conscious, desperately trying to find Happy's face behind the emotionless mask.

“I’m getting you out of here.”

Her voice sounded far away, and his attempt to form a response only offered a breathy groan. His mind swam nauseatingly as the stimpack did it’s work, reconstructing the wounds the Gunners gave him, most of which were to his head. Deacon barely noticed that Happy had picked him up till they were already walking out the shattered doorway, looking down at himself to see that he was being carried bridal style, his body carefully nestled against her armored chest. He let out a shaky sigh, letting his body go limp as he realized he was safe in her arms. For a moment he was safe from his mistakes, safe from the pain that was now just a numbed buzzing through his whole body. He could feel himself slipping back into unconsciousness, but his mind filled with panic as he remembered where they were. His eyes opened wide as he looked behind them down the long hallways of the house they had dragged him through when he was knocked out, and he grimaced at the sight behind them. Blood splattered the wall of the kitchen at the end, the front door blown completely off it hinges. The bodies of the Gunners were strewn across the hall like grim decorations, themselves decorated with their own blood and bullet holes. The head of one of the mercenaries was completely blown off, his relatively fresh blood hiding the rotting wood underneath as it poured out of his body. Happy did this. She did this for him. He knew she could kill, she was an amazing shot, but something about this was different. They were more brutal, more bloody - The place looked like a Deathclaw had come through with a vengeance. In his exhausted mind he couldn’t tell what he thought of that.

Deacon felt himself losing grip on reality again, his eyelids feeling like lead as they slowly closed. He tried to keep them open, to get one more look at Happy. He wanted to thank her, to ask her if she was alright, but nothing came out. His breathing was finally evened out, and the only thing his body wanted to do was rest in the safety of Happys arms. It wasn’t a safety he deserved after the mistake he made, but he didn’t have the strength to refuse it, and he doubted Happy would let him. His head rested against the hard metal, and finally he faded to sleep.

“You got him… You got what you wanted. Now let me go.” The Gunner bastard on his knees on the front porch stared up at Happy, entire body shaking. The blood from his broken nose flowed freely, and his hands trembled. Maybe it was the fear, maybe it was the fact that she broke them under her boot. She had abandoned using her charisma to get him to help, which he was eager to do after she broke his leg too. Happy looked at him, her heated glare hidden by the tinted glass of the helmet.

“Come on! I lead you to the camp! I told you what you wanted, and you got the fucking prisoner! There wasn’t a courser here, okay? Just a bunch of useless synths!” The Gunner doubled over in pain, the effort of staying up almost too much for the shattered bones in his leg.

“You piece of shit… You say that like it’s supposed to make it better. Do you know who this is? His name is Deacon, and he’s a member of the Railroad. This man saves synths. He risks his life every day just to save someone he doesn’t even know from the Institute.” Happy turned away from the Gunner, “But you wouldn’t understand that, would you? No. You’re just a greedy bastard, you’re no better than a radroach.”

Happy looked down at Deacon, bloody but peacefully asleep in her arms.

“No, you wouldn’t know the first thing about saving someone. About risking your life for another. You don’t even know about loving anyone, do you? You’ve never loved anything in your life, besides bottlecaps.”

The Gunner let out a pathetic sob, looking up at Happy with fear in his eyes.

“Please! Just let me go! I... I’ll never take another job again! I’ll never even pick up a gun again! Please!”

Happy went silent, just staring at the man in her arms. She was never going to let the Gunner go, not after what he helped do to Deacon. There was only one person here that deserved mercy, one person who deserved the chance to repent for their crimes, and he was nestled gently in her arms, completely unaware of the conversation going on right now. She thanked whatever gods existed that he was unaware of what she had done to find him. Without another word she pulled out her gun and shot the Gunner in the head, his lifeless body hitting the porch with a thud. The blood pooled from his wound, eyes open in a now eternal expression of shock. She holstered the gun again as guilt pinged at her heart strings, feeling a lump in her throat when she looked at the dead Gunner. He had complied to her demands and betrayed his entire gang to show her the way here, and he deserved better than a death by her hands. Who was she to judge that he deserved death? To claim that he had never loved anyone? Happy didn’t even know who he was, or his real name. He was just a filthy Gunner to her. The guilt faded as she looked at Deacon. Of course he deserved a bullet to his head - He had helped take something very precious from her. She already had so much taken by greedy fuckers like him who just wanted to line their pockets and hurt someone who didn’t deserve it, and gods know Deacon didn’t. Even if he thought he did.

Happy stepped off the porch, looking ahead at the path illuminated by the moon ahead of her. She’d do that a thousand times again if she had to. She’d put a thousand bullets in anyone's head if it meant keeping one more person she loved in her life. That Gunner was just another Kellogg, the only difference was he wasn’t nearly as important. Happy would do this a million times more if it meant keeping Deacon by her side for just another day.

End.

[imnotwolverine]

Soldier on

Syverson x reader

I received a request and made an attempt at writing a Syverson x reader one-shot for you all to enjoy. It’s sad, angsty, includes violence, smut, the whole lot. Ye be warned. 

Thank you @scorpionchild81, I hope you enjoy it! 

Warnings: smut, angst, attempted rape, all the massive feels

--

From your perspective:

You fumbled with the keys in your hand as your heels tapped on the hot concrete. Even now, at this late hour, the Texan air was smouldering, bright stars gleaming like small freckles on the skin of the pitch black heavens above. 

Should you just..go back? It wasn’t that bad right? If he could hook up with someone..then so could you. You halted and looked back at the neon lit bar you just left, the sound of a jukebox playing and people talking top-lung.

You could visualise it. The way he now looked hungrily into the eyes of that girl, his full lips turning into a wolfish grin as he towered over her with that big, bulky physique. The promise of a good night to follow, gleaming in his eyes.. No. Don’t think about it.

Taking a shivery breath you grasped the keys in your palm tighter. You were glad you had stayed sober that night so you could at least leave at any moment you pleased. It’s not like he would be going with you anyways. ‘STOP IT!’ You scolded yourself, muttering under your breath as your legs automatically strode to the parking lot around the corner.

There were but a few cars parked on the lot, their dusty hoods mere shadows in the poor light of the solitary streetlight. Your eye peered at some men leaning into what happens to be your car, their cigarettes burning up bright yellow in the darkness. Great, you thought, quickly looking over your shoulder to see if anyone else was around. Under the bright lights of the bar you could spot a couple that were practically eating each other on the sidewalk, their arms entangled and their clothes barely covering their private parts. Immediately you felt your heart flip with jealousy again, your fingers becoming even more sweaty around your car keys.

‘Fine.’ You growled, definitely not opting for going back inside the bar, but instead taking large, purposeful strides towards the car. You could hear the hood of your car let out a sigh as one of the men got up, his face barely visible in the low light. ‘Evenin’ gents.’ You tried, casually moving past their large bodies to reach for the car door. ‘Hello sugar.’ One of them purred in a husky voice. You didn’t twitch as you continued to reach the keys towards the car door. ‘Gotta ask you to find another place to hang out I’m afraid.’ You said, eyeing one of the gents who was still leaning into your car, his face menacing and his breath spiked with heavy liquor. ‘Oh don’t go.’ He playfully begged, his hand grasping your wrist, stalling further efforts to open the car door.

The man was leaning into the backseat door, his face mostly hidden behind a scruffy beard - nothing like Sy’s handsome full beard -, his figure a bit on the obese size, but making him still obviously much stronger than you. Around you his accomplices now closed in. Three men, all smelling of heavy liquor. Moonshine? Who knows. But it sure wasn’t good.

‘Maybe some other night. This sugar has to go now.’ You tried to keep your voice level as you wriggled to free your wrist. The man wouldn’t budge. ‘Hear that Lacy? She doesn’t want to play with us!’ He quickly snagged the keys from your hand before squaring up his shoulders, ready to stop you as you flailed at him. ‘HEY, those are mine! Give them back at once!’ You tried to shove him, reaching for your keys, but he had already thrown them to one of the others, your hands making no impression on him as you couldn’t even push him back a centimetre. ‘Now now. How about you be nice lil’ slut.’ He barked, pushing you with ease into the car door.

Fuck. Fucking shit. Fuck.

Your already sweaty hands immediately reached for your phone in your jeans’ back pocket, your pulse quickening to a gallop as you tried to keep an eye on all the men whom were now looming in closer and closer. As soon as you managed to squeeze your hand into the tight pocket you could feel a hand on your own. ‘Uh uh love. Not gonn’ happen.’ He all but whispered in your ear. Gosh he stank so bad. You felt bile come up, lungs heavy from both the humid Texan air and this whole situation. ‘Stop.’ You whimpered, losing your internal battle and giving in to fear. ‘Or what..hmm..lil’ skank?’ One of the others spoke, his voice much more boyish.

The man forcing you against the car door had now also taken the phone, letting it light up to its lock screen, holding it over their faces, his face turned into a sick grin. The pale green light of your screensaver offered some insight in the looks of the assailants. Two younger men, no older then 20 in worn t-shirts, and then there was the big burly men who was pinning you down and a man with a buzz cut in the far back, his eyes glistening dark in the low light. Buzz cut…army? Maybe..maybe he would help..? If you said the right…

Before you could finish your thought your pants were pulled down, eager hands cupping your buttocks, the calloused digits digging painfully through the cotton of your undies. ‘NO! FUCK OFF! GET OFF ME!’ A sudden burst of opposition coursed through you as you started to flail your nails into his face, making the man bounce back for a moment. Your legs tried to make a run for it, your hands trying to tug up your pants, but another pair of hands stopped you, digging evil nails into your soft skin. ‘Listen up bitch. You gonn’ be nice and quiet, ya?’ He slurred. It was one of the younger men, some of his teeth missing from the looks of it. Drug users. Oh man. This couldn’t get worse.

Panic filled your heavy lungs as you felt more hands traveling down your body, one pair squeezing your neck tight, whilst others tore at your t-shirt. You clenched your jaw, breaths coming in short and hard, tears burning up in the back of your eyes. ’NO!’ You roared, making another feverish attempt to be released, arms and legs kicking wildly around you. ‘You fuckin’ dogs.’ You bit as you managed to get out of the grasp of the pair of hands on your neck. A small victorious moment, that was, before you felt your legs being swiped away, your body quickly coursing to the gritty hard parking lot.

You smacked down hard, your head painfully landing on the black tar as feet started to kick you. You saw them dropping your phone, but you couldn’t move to get it. Low wails escaped your throat as you balled up your body in a futile attempt to protect yourself. ‘St..op..’ You breathed shakily, the punishing kicks removing all air from your lungs, your body searing with both adrenaline and fear. Folding your arms over your neck and face, you noted they did stop. Why?

‘HEY,’ A loud, rough voice barked from further up in the parking lot. You quivered, the pain crashing in hard as watery eyes peered at the figure in the distance, his form creating a strong silhouette against the single light source straight behind him. Oh please let it be him. Sy..sy..

—

From his perspective:

She had left. Again. It was becoming a strange habit of her to leave in the middle of a fun night out. At least. It sure had been fun up to that point, he thought, his eyes tracing her brown mane all the way out the door. Darkness had nearly swallowed her when he saw her turn around. Was she coming back?

‘Hey sexy. Whatcha thinkin’?’ The kitten in his arms purred. Sure she was a fine thing. A true southern belle, with pretty blond locks and a heartshaped face, her dainty fingers making enticing circles over his red t-shirt. ‘Nothin’.’ He said, forcing his lips to turn into a smile as he looked down at her. He pulled the little vixen closer to his chest, his eyes immediately peering back at the door. She was gone.

Well, might as well make the most of the night.

His hands travelled languidly over the blondes back, before settling on her curvy behind. Her small arms had now also wrapped around him, leaving him alone with his thoughts for a moment. The bar was busy this night, almost crowded. Which wasn’t all that surprising. He and his brothers-and-sisters-in-arms had just gotten back from a round trip, and that was always worth a celebration.

Although it’s not the same without her.

Some racket sounded from outside, a few people hastily walking out the door to see what was going on. Sy’s curiosity peaked, his arms unwrapping from the dainty thing in his arms.

‘No..stay. There’s enough people to sort out whatever’s happenin’ there big bear.’ The woman purred, pulling him back towards her. He groaned, giving in to her request, his eyes keeping a close watch on the people who were standing outside. Something had happened. ’Come..let’s have some..real fun.’ Her sultry voice breathed against his bearded chin. He looked down, seeing her tug at his belt and eyeing at the toilets in the back.

His hazy mind couldn’t think straight as his eyes gave a quick check on the people around them. Everyone else was too preoccupied with the situation outside or continuing their drunk chatter. He couldn’t help but give her offer a think-over. It had been months after all. His hand cupped the back of her head as he leaned in for a kiss. A kiss she eagerly accepted, her teeth biting into his bottom lip playfully.

Before long he found himself in one of the toilets, his head slightly dazed as the pretty blond was pulling at his shirt, kissing his naked flesh beneath it. He let out a pent up breath. Fuck. What was he even doing. His mind was saying no..but his body was definitely saying “yes”. He felt himself harden, his erection straining against his jeans, his head falling back as he felt her lips blazing over his hot skin.

His phone buzzed.

Immediately he reached for his back pocket to answer, his hand stopped by the blond vixen. ‘I’m sure THAT can wait.’ She breathed, daintily pushing the phone back in its pocket. He let out a quivery breath as she pulled up his shirt further, her nose now moving through his curly chest hair. ‘Ooh you’re such a bear…rawr!’ She squealed, eagerly grabbing at his toned chest. He couldn’t think straight, a slight worry creeping over his back as he mulled it over.

She had left the bar mere minutes before that racket outside. Had something happened?

He felt his breath quicken, become more harsh, his curiosity burning as he felt his phone sitting silent in his back pocket.

No. She always managed on her own. She’s fine. It probably was just a drunk idiot who had passed out. Or a bar fight. And she was now driving home. Alone.

Alone.

‘Fuck.’ He groaned, feeling the eager blond tugging at his belt as she lowered herself on her knees. ‘No. Stop darlin’. It’s….argh..Fuck.’ His words evaporated in the humid air as she released his cock from its restrains. ‘Doesn’t look like you want to stop.’ She purred, wrapping her hand around his erection. He let out an involuntary moan. It had been so long since he was last touched like that. Four whole fucking months. He let his head fall back, his breath hitching as she worked her magic hands in slow strokes. ‘Mmm.’ She hummed, her wet lips starting a new trail over his abs. This time going south.

His phone buzzed again.

Before the woman could stop him mid-track, he stepped back, pushing his back against the tiled wall and holding a steady hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. She halted her administrations as she looked up in confusion, seeing Sy’s eyes flicker nervously over the phone in his hand, his other hand reaching for the stall door. Before turning the lock, he quickly pushed his erection in his pants, single handedly zipping it back up, leaving his belt unbuckled.

‘I’m so sorry doll. Looks like an emergency.’ He wrought his eyebrows together, giving her an apologetic look. She looked at him with confusion, still squatted down on the dirty floor, barely registering as he strode back to the bar with great haste.

Sy swung open the door, his thumb sliding over the screen to answer the call. His heart was beating wildly. She was calling him. Maybe..To speak? Invite him over? Was she near? He looked over his shoulder as the line crunched through it’s bad connection. All he saw was a bunch of people sitting on the sidewalk, their cigarettes burning in the thick night air.

‘Good evening. You are speaking with the North Texas State Hospital. Am I speaking with ..uh..Syverson?’ A female voice that was not hers. Suddenly the world fell away from him, his veins growing cold as the sweat on his hot back made him shiver. His jaw clenched as he took a strained breath. ‘Yes. Speaking.’ ‘I’m sorry to inform you…’

—

His heart thundered as his legs carried him through the long grey hallway, his boots still sticking from the alcohol glazed floor in the bar…or was it just his heavy legs that felt like pure lead right now? He had balled up his fists so tightly the skin had turned white, his eyes nervously scanning over the signages. Room 201.4, room 201.5…room 201.6. He halted, his boots squeaking.

Breath Sy. Breath man.

He opened his hand, reaching for the door to push it open. Room 201.6. He had repeated it in his head a hundred times over as he had made his way here. But now he was standing here he was hesitant. He peered at his fingers on the pale green door. 201.6. This is it. Taking one more deep, forceful breath he pushed open the door, immediately seeing what he came for.

You.

Or whatever they had left of you. He quickly made way to your bed, feeling another shiver run over his back as his breath choked. It really was you. Half your face bandaged up, your skin bruised and scratched, tubes running from your arms. But also that deep auburn hair, those sweet apple shaped cheeks.

‘No..’ He breathed, forgoing all protocol as he leaned into you and pressed his lips against your forehead. ‘No..’ He cried, hot tears burning in his eyes. ‘Fuck.’ 

He pushed himself up ever so slightly to take another look at you. You were still every bit as pretty. Just like in his dreams. But unlike in his dreams he hadn’t protected you. Hadn’t been there for you. Hadn’t confessed what he had felt for so long.

‘Bug…’ He breathed, a sole tear running down his cheek before disappearing in his thick beard. ‘Oh god. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry. If only I had…’

Your hand wrapped around his neck.

He looked up, being greeted by your half opened eyes. ‘Sy..’ You croaked, your voice laced with sleep, your eyes already falling shut again.

‘Oh sweetness. Rest. It’s okay. I’ll be here. I’ll wait. I’ll always wait…’ He breathed, a soft relief coming over him as he noticed the slightest smile on your lips.

‘I …love you.’ He croaked, carefully looking at you as your face relaxed again in deep sleep. Yes. This time he wouldn’t leave your side.

[retrievablememories]

like you | jungwoo

title: like you pairing: jungwoo x black!reader genre: fluff, college!au request: “Hi. I’m requesting a fluffy imagine where Y/N is a senior in college and Jungwoo is a freshman in college. Y/N gets upset because people keep picking on him because he is asian and she defends him. This causes Jungwoo to get extremely clingy/flirty and develop a crush on Y/N. Y/N is not used to recieving affection so she feels skeptical” word count: 3.8k warnings: cursing, instances of racism a/n: this one was pretty fun to write, i love writing college-inspired stuff for some reason lol. tumblr fucked the image quality but whatever. the title comes from the song off story op 1. stan kim jonghyun girlies!

“Who’s that guy in your Medieval History class?” Your roommate, Mira, randomly asks you one day. She’s hanging off the edge of your bed, her textbook on the ground in front of her as she fists her hands in her hair and tries to comprehend the words swimming on the page in front of her.

You turn away from your desk to look at her. “That’s a random ass question. Have the words finally fried your brain? I don’t even know what guy you’re talking about.”

She looks up at you, crossing her arms in front of her and resting her chin on them. “Fuck this homework man, I’ve had enough. I wanna know who’s the guy in your History class, the black-haired one? The Asian dude?”

You think for a moment. You do remember who she’s talking about; he sits closer to the front of the class, though you’re not sure how she knows him. She’s not even in the same class. He has cute features, though you haven’t paid him much mind—you know from the first day’s icebreaker that he’s a freshman exchange student, but any other details have escaped your mind.

“I don’t remember his name at the moment...what about him?”

“He seems kind of awkward, like...I’ve only really seen him with one other boy. It’s kinda sad...he could use a friend or two.”

“You’re assuming he’s awkward? Maybe he’s just shy, or doesn’t want 800 different friends,” you say, turning to another page in your notebook. There are only a couple of reasons why she’d ask you about a guy, and you can guess what her plans are. “If you want to be his friend, you can. Ain’t nobody stopping you.”

“Well, shit, can’t you like...introduce me? I don’t wanna be a weirdo going up to a total stranger!”

You laugh incredulously. “Girl, he’s a total stranger to me too. If you really want to be friends, just say so...or say you’re with that Freshman Committee who pairs upperclassmen mentors with the new students. I’m sure that’ll work well.” In actuality, you’re not entirely serious or sure about that, but it’s better than listening to your friend complain.

Mira sighs, going back to her textbook. “Ugh, you never wanna help me get guys. Fine...I could try it, but if I end up looking like a fool I’m blaming you.”

You only have Medieval History on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so you have to wait another day before returning to class again. After keeping your ears open for the roll call, you figure out that the guy’s name is Jungwoo.

He appears to be really into the subject and participates often, asking and answering questions whenever the professor engages with the students. You’re only taking Medieval History to fill out the last credit for your Social Studies electives, so you never expected to be all into the subject; but the teacher does a decent enough job of making the class not totally boring. 

Jungwoo has a pretty proficient grasp of English, which makes you wonder if he did a lot of studying before he got here. He mispronounces a word when asking the teacher about a certain concept in the reading material, though, and a couple of girls who sit behind him laugh. You furrow your eyebrows at that, wondering what their problem is.

Later, when you’re leaving class, they pass by you and you hear a bit of their conversation.

“Shit, if you’re gonna move over here you should at least know English first,” one says, screwing up her nose.

“Seriously, it’s so embarrassing. I thought Asians were supposed to be geniuses or something?” Both girls laugh at that, and you roll your eyes at the ignorance. They’re gone only seconds later, although your mind keeps drifting back to their comments for the rest of the day.

Over the next week, you notice that those same two girls seem to spend more of their class time giggling over Jungwoo’s mannerisms and speech than actually participating in the class. It quickly begins wearing your nerves thin; you’ve never gotten along well with people who are assholes just for the sake of being mean.

If Jungwoo notices—which you figure he must, because their cackling is too obvious not to pick up on—he doesn’t acknowledge it. This only makes you more irritated, knowing that he probably isn’t interested in picking a fight with these girls; but that doesn’t mean he should continue being disrespected.

You reach a point where you can no longer stay silent during a lecture on Medieval cuisine, where the girls keep whispering silly jokes about Asian food. You clear your throat loud enough to make a few heads turn, including the girls doing the laughing. “Excuse you, I can’t hear the teacher over the noise,” you say pointedly, crossing your arms. They both give you salty looks at that comment, and you have to stifle the urge to throw something at the backs of their heads when they turn around.

This is going to be a long semester.

Things come to head one day when you’re all waiting outside the classroom for the professor’s last class to leave. Jungwoo is standing beside the classroom’s door, while you’re seated on a nearby bench, trying to stay awake after studying until 2 a.m. last night.

The two girls walk into the hallway, including a boy you don’t recognize; you figure he’s probably a friend or boyfriend. You kiss your teeth at their entrance and try to return to your thoughts, but you’re quickly taken out of them again when you see the trio stop in front of Jungwoo.

The first girl, who seems to be the ringleader, speaks. “Hey, what’s your name again—Ching? Jing?”

“We need some homework help! And since you seem to be the teacher’s pet…” Both girls look at each other and laugh at that. Jungwoo furrows his eyebrows, an unimpressed expression on his face.

“I don’t think that’s—” Jungwoo starts, but the other guy cuts him off, putting his hand to his ear in an exaggerated gesture.

“What was that? We need you to enunicate, no one knows what the fuck you’re saying.” This time, all three of them break into laughter. 

The tiredness drains from your body faster than any caffeine could achieve as you watch the scene unfold. Some of your other classmates look on, shifting uncomfortably, but no one moves to say or do anything. Before you can really think about it, you’re already up on your feet and walking towards the group.

“Maybe if your miserable asses spent more time studying the lectures instead of shitting on a fellow student, you wouldn’t have to beg for help.”

All three of them, plus Jungwoo, turn their heads in your direction with varying expressions on their faces. The main girl speaks up, putting her hands on her hips. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

“You, bitch! Who else? Y’all love picking on someone you know is too nice to say anything back. That’s weak as hell and says more about you than it ever could about him.”

Your voices start getting louder as the girl gets up in your face, and before anything can pop off, the professor comes storming through the classroom door.

“What the hell is going on here?” he shouts over the arguing.

The girl backs down after the professor makes his appearance and turns to look at her two partners in crime. “Girl—got the damn teacher out here, come on, we ain’t got time for this shit.” They both walk away in a huff, their male friend trailing behind them, and some other students give them sideways glances as they pass. The guy throws you a dirty look before he leaves, and you don’t hesitate to flip him off.

“That’s an unexcused absence on your record!” The professor calls after them, shaking his head. Meanwhile, Jungwoo has been watching the whole scene with shocked eyes, and he keeps looking at you as you shrug and head into the classroom.

The next time you have your Medieval History class, the two girls don’t show up. Maybe they’re too embarrassed to come back to class, but whatever it is, it’s above you now.

After the professor finishes his main lecture, he flips through his copy of the class textbook for the day’s assignment. “Everyone, turn to page 273 in your books. I want you all to read and analyze this text on Romanesque architecture, then answer the 3 discussion questions on page 275. You can get into groups of no more than 3 if you wish, but everyone needs to turn in their own individual answer sheet.”

Sighing, you open your notebook and rifle through your backpack for a writing utensil. When you look up, you jump a little from shock; Jungwoo is standing near your desk with his things in his arms.

“Hi...could we work together?” He gives you a gentle smile.

“Oh, sure, that’s fine with me!” Jungwoo takes the empty seat beside you and you push your desks to be closer together.

“I never got to say,” he starts, “but thank you for doing that last week...you didn’t have to.”

“Well, I would hope any decent person would...I didn’t want to just sit there and watch you be insulted. It’s so unnecessary...” You quickly flip through your textbook, completely overshooting the assignment page and having to go back. You feel a little flustered at this kind of attention, because you weren’t really doing it to be noticed or heroic.

Jungwoo smiles at your modesty, though he doesn’t try to push the matter.

At the end of class, after you’ve both turned in your assignments, you and Jungwoo leave together.

“Thanks for partnering with me today,” you tell him, and he nods in acknowledgement. “I guess I’ll see you next class?”

“Actually, do you want to eat lunch with me? I mean, at the cafeteria today?” he asks. His eyes seem to literally sparkle in anticipation of your answer, and you find it hard to turn that face down. Plus, he seems nice enough; this could be a good way to introduce him to Mira.

“Sure,” you say, grinning.

You and Jungwoo head to the dining hall for lunch, talking about anything that comes to mind along the way. You find out that him and his roommate, Jaehyun, have been best friends for awhile before deciding to go overseas for college; his roommate has been to the U.S. before, but this is his first time. He talks a lot more than you expected him to, but you figure some people just need time to warm up before they get comfortable.

It doesn’t take you long to find Mira after you get to the cafe, and you plan to let her take the reins with the conversation, but Jungwoo continually does his best to keep you roped into the dialogue. You realize you don’t mind that, though—it’s nice to have someone who actively engages you rather than lets you fade into the background.

Jungwoo quickly makes the desk beside yours his new spot in class. He sticks close to your side during lectures and even when you walk to the cafeteria or back to your dorm, always thinking of something new to tell you about. With any other person you’d quickly get tired of this borderline clingy behavior, but something about him keeps you interested, even when you’re talking about stuff that would be boring to others—like Medieval History.

The two girls eventually make their return, glowering silently at you and Jungwoo but not saying a word. Their object of laughter and mockery is no longer available for harassment; who knows who they’ll try to terrorize next, though you hope the answer is no one.

“You don’t mind that Jungwoo always wants to hang out with me, do you? Since I know you kinda liked him and all.” You ask Mira at lunch one day, when Jungwoo leaves the table to get the straw he forgot. You feel a bit sheepish. You didn’t mean to “steal” her prospective man away from her, but you and Jungwoo have taken a liking to each other, and you enjoy being in his presence.

“Jungwoo? No! I actually have my eye on another guy in my Nursing class now, he’s really funny and he owns a collection of vintage records…” You snort, unsurprised that her attention has drifted already. Mira launches into a whole spiel about this new dude, even detailing how the color of his irises is just shy of being “true hazel green.” She pauses in her speech to bat her eyelashes at you. “Besides, it seems like you two have something going on already. I wouldn’t dare get in between that.”

You almost drop your food in your lap. “Uh, what?”

“Don’t be shy. You two are practically tied at the hip, and Jungwoo already talks to you like you’re his girlfriend. It’s only a matter of time at this point.”

“I seriously doubt that,” you say, suddenly feeling very put on the spot. You don’t think Jungwoo sees you like that at all, and you’re a little irritated that your roommate would suggest it, jokingly or not.

She sighs and shakes her head. When she spots Jungwoo walking back to the table, she tries to act casual and wrap the subject up. “Suit yourself, but I’m always right about this kinda stuff. Watch.”

Every year, your college throws a Welcome Back party on the last Friday of the first month in the semester. You initially didn’t have plans to go, much preferring your friends’ kickbacks where you don’t have to avoid sweaty and horny stranger dudes all night. However, Jungwoo turns to you one day after class ends and brings it up.

“Y/N, there’s gonna be a party on campus at the end of the week...are you going?”

“Hmm, probably not...Welcome Back parties are always lowkey messy and filled with freshmen who don’t know how to act…” You momentarily forget that Jungwoo is a freshman, and you have to walk your comment back a bit. “Not saying you’ll be like that, though!”

He waves it off. “It’s fine. It’s just, me and Jaehyun are going and thought it’d be fun if you came too.”

“Well…”

Jungwoo rests his head on your shoulder and hugs your arm. “Please? I want the prettiest girl in school to be my date.”

You pat his hand and laugh off his comment, unsure how to accept his compliment. “Since you asked so nicely…I’ll go. But I’m bringing Mira with me. It’s been awhile since I’ve gone to a campus party.”

“Yes!! That’s fine, Jaehyun will probably like her,” Jungwoo says, smirking. You still don’t get how they haven’t formally met yet with how your friend circles overlap, but you know it’s coming soon. Obviously, Jungwoo knows something you don’t, judging by the look on his face, but you don’t inquire about it.

You and Mira spend the night of the party getting ready with Megan Thee Stallion and City Girls blasting through your dorm room. She was a little resistant to the idea at first, insisting that campus parties were too corny for her taste, but you eventually convinced her to go. 

As the hour approaches, there’s a knock on your door. You’re still putting the finishing touches on your makeup, so you tell Mira to answer it. When she does, Jungwoo and Jaehyun are standing there.

“You guys are here already? Who let you in?” she says jokingly, though you wonder the same thing; you can’t get into a dorm you don’t live in without a key card.

“Some guy downstairs. Maybe your dorm needs better security.” Jaehyun laughs. “I tried to tell Jungwoo it’s still early, but he was ready to leave.”

“Walking in on two girls getting ready, how presumptuous of you,” Mira giggles, pretending to shove Jungwoo’s shoulder. You roll your eyes hard and try not to laugh in the mirror. “But you’re here now, so might as well come in.”

Jungwoo makes a beeline straight to you, placing his hands on your shoulders like he wants to give you a massage. “Hi pretty girl.” He smiles at your reflection, and you almost drop your lip gloss on the floor.

“Oh, h-hey, Jungwoo! The party tonight better be fun...if not, you owe me,” you say, trying to play off your nervousness.

Jungwoo acts reluctant about it, placing his hand in his chin and thinking deeply. “I owe you? Well, okay...anything you want.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You can have my heart first, if you want.”

This time you really do drop your lip gloss, and Mira and Jaehyun watch with amused fascination as you mourn your lost makeup. But right now, you just want to avoid thinking about what Jungwoo has just said, and how it makes you feel.

The gymnasium where the party is being held is just as packed as you expected it to be, even at your group’s early arrival. It’s only going to get more crowded from here, but you don’t think about that as Jungwoo all but drags you to go dance.

You genuinely enjoy yourself for the first time in a while, and you’re surprised at just how much fun you can still have even with drunken dudes bumping into you every few minutes.

You’re too caught up in dancing with Jungwoo to notice, but Mira and Jaehyun are nowhere to be found. You only realize this after you two take a break during a slower song and you can’t spot her anywhere on the gym floor. You send her a text message, but you don’t expect to receive an answer anytime soon.

“Shit, they didn’t waste any time,” you laugh, and for some reason you can’t stop laughing at the situation. Jungwoo joins you until you’re both outright cackling, and some of the other party-goers give you odd glances.

You and Jungwoo spend most of the night dancing and partying with some of your other classmates. You both leave the gym one hour before the party ends, wanting to avoid getting caught in the huge rush of people who’ll be looking for fast food places to hit up. Instead of heading back to your dorms, you two decide to walk around the campus for a while, enjoying the still night air and the sounds of crickets all around you. You’re glad for the open air, because you were burning up in the gym with so many bodies around you.

Neither of you speak for a while, simply taking in the scenery and retracing your footsteps on paths you walk everyday to get to class. Jungwoo finally breaks the silence when you pass through a long path flanked on both sides by rows of flowery trees; this part of campus is so picturesque that it almost seems out of place.

“Tonight is really pretty,” he says, glancing at the starry sky.

“I know, right,” you agree. “It’s so nice outside. I’m glad you convinced me to go to the party.”

“I’m glad too. I really like being next to you...” Jungwoo’s eyes linger on your face for longer than you expect them to, and you look away nervously, unsure what that could mean. “But, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Oh? What’s that?” The sudden change in tone makes you a bit anxious, and you half expect him to tell you he has to return home after this semester ends. That thought makes you more disappointed than you anticipated. Your stomach curls into a knot.

“Y/N, I like you.” Jungwoo’s face is earnest, but your brain has a hard time catching up to the meaning of his words. You feel like you’ve been kicked in the chest—or maybe that’s your heart trying to knock its way out of your ribcage. You stop walking and simply look at him, unsure how to approach his confession. He stops too, turning to face you with gentle eyes.

“I-is...this a joke?” You finally blurt out. Jungwoo’s face draws into a confused expression. He shakes his head, his hair waving as he does.

“It’s not a joke at all. You are funny, nice, cool, brave, pretty…”

“A...are you sure this isn’t just because I defended you? Like, maybe you just feel really grateful about it—a-and we’ve only known each other a month—”

“Y/N, I know how I feel,” Jungwoo argues, grabbing your hands. He pauses for a moment as if he’s trying to come up with the accurate words to express himself. “I just...I don’t need a reason or excuse. I just like you.”

This is all far more than what you’re used to. You pull your hands away from Jungwoo’s for a moment, embarrassed and overwhelmed. You tentatively reach for his hand again after seeing the hurt look on his face, but you hesitate.

“I’m...sorry, it’s just…” You don’t really want to admit something so personal to him, but you don’t know how else to avoid completely hurting his feelings tonight. “I’m, uh, not really used to this kind of stuff…” Jungwoo raises his eyebrows at that.

“Used to...what? Someone liking you?”

“Well damn, when you put it like that…” You try to laugh it off, but you feel corny and sheltered at best. What must Jungwoo think of you, as a senior who’s never had a genuine love interest? You’ve had more than one college boy’s lust directed at you one time or another, but true affection is another thing entirely. That has been a much rarer find.

“Then...you can get used to it now. It’s never too late to experience love.”

“You really believe that?” you say softly, allowing yourself to feel a little relieved that he’s not laughing you out of town. But of course he wouldn’t. He’s not that kind of person, anyway.

“Don’t you?” You let him take your hand this time as he steps closer. “You deserve someone who will treat you nicely, tell you funny stories, carry your books for you..”

“Someone...like you,” you finish for him, thinking back to all the times he’s done those exact same things for you. You’re unsure how to approach the intense newness of this situation, and you’re a little afraid of him holding your sweaty palm, but you decide none of that matters when Jungwoo’s lips meet yours, his hand carefully holding your face.

Right now, the only thing that matters is this moment under the stars.