#guy with very few skills he can consistently do has troubles about them again. news to nobody.

[chiropteracupola]

hm. thinking about art-showing again.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s S2 R&S - Fireworks into the Heart

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from an R&S (烟花入心) which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Features S2 Gavin. References are made to S2 Ch 16

[ Chapter One ]

“Wang Xiao Cui, you’ve been employed by the STF’s Logistics Department. Report to the cafeteria at 8am tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’ve been hired to work in the STF cafeteria. 

As a nutritionist with over thirty years of experience, joining the STF isn’t a problem for me.

My old companion isn’t able to understand why I’m not using my years of retirement to enjoy life. Without giving him a response, I simply smoothen the small creases on my STF uniform carefully.

As an ordinary person, the STF always had a mysterious and prestigious impression in my eyes. Agents who are able to work here are all heroes with indomitable spirits.

Being able to take care of their meals and enable them to get more nutrition every day to strengthen their bodies and better protect Loveland City gives me a sense of honour in protecting this city too.

Based on my experience, taking care of a group of young people is a piece of cake. However, I didn’t expect to make the mistake of underestimating this place.

-

Standing in front of the cafeteria’s bleak signboard at 7.30am, I witness several agents carrying Tianjin-style deep-friend dough sticks through the doors. Someone even carries several bags of fried beef buns. While walking, he speaks in a loud voice:

"I braved the risk of running laps to bring you guys fried buns again!”

“During training later, no one’s allowed to snatch that new gun from me.”

The other agents let out a “tsk”, taking the fried buns and chilli paste from him before dividing them amongst themselves.

Fresh out of the oven, hot steam rises from the buns in the cafeteria, and nobody bats an eye. The master who steamed the buns has already grown accustomed to this. They stand in groups of twos and threes, engaging in idle chatter.

Why doesn’t anyone in the STF like eating food from the cafeteria?

Unable to figure out an answer after much thought, I happen to spot a handsome lad dressed in a white uniform. His steps are steady, and he brings along a breeze when he walks. I immediately call out to him.

“Hey! Young lad, wait.”

The handsome lad stops in his footsteps, giving me a sweeping glance out of the corner of his eye.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“No no, I'm the new nutritionist in the cafeteria. I just wanted to ask you something. Why don’t the STF agents love to eat cafeteria food? From what I can see, the Nourishing Meal has meat and vegetables, and it’s pretty rich in nutrition.”

The handsome lad is silent for a moment before responding to my question.

“The healthy meals place too much focus on health, and they don’t taste any better than the small stalls outside.”

“Captain Gavin, the materials from yesterday’s case have been tidied up.”

“Mm, I’ll have a look at them.”

The handsome lad who was addressed as “Captain Gavin” sees that I have no further questions. Giving me a nod, he takes large strides towards the office.

With a frown, I take a bite out of a celery meat bun. Aside from the taste being slightly bland, I don’t find anything wrong with it. Furthermore, adding too much salt would reduce its nutritional value, so it’s a given that less salt would be added to it.

However, since this point was brought up, it means there’s room for improvement.

In order to prepare food that better suits the palate of STF, I spend a whole week lying low and observing the favourite eateries that the STF agents enjoy eating most, and try out all of their famous dishes.

Based on their palate, I meticulously prepare a modified version of trial dishes.

On the first day of introducing the trial dishes, I brim with enthusiasm while bringing out a “New Dishes to Try” signboard, thinking that this would raise the reputation of the STF’s cafeteria. However, even after half a day, the only things that enter are mosquitoes which I swat to death.

There’s a cold breeze at the entrance. I look at the clock hanging on the wall of the cafeteria - lunchtime is almost over.

Deciding not to wait any longer, I head outside, planning to grab a few people in to try the dishes.

The moment I step outside, my eyes brighten when I see that lad from before.

His footsteps are hurried, and he has a packet of instant noodles in his hand. He probably has to deal with some urgent matters, which is why he has to make do with that for lunch.

How is that good? An STF agent eating instant noodles? Where would I, a nutritionist, hide my pride? I hurriedly stop him.

“Young lad, there are new dishes in the cafeteria. Since you’re about to eat, why don’t you try the cafeteria? It’d be a quick meal.”

He pauses in his footsteps for a slight moment, his refusal ready. However, when he sees the menu behind me, he suddenly blinks, then looks up to give me a nod.

“I’ll have to trouble you then.”

With this, he walks into the cafeteria. I look at the menu. There’s only a simple line written on it - “Today’s Special: Chicken with Chilli”.

Does he like eating chicken with chilli?

[Note] To be precise, this dish is called 辣子鸡 (là zǐ jī). It’s a a stir-fried dish consisting of marinated then deep-fried pieces of chicken, dried Sichuan chilli peppers, spicy bean paste, Sichuan peppers, garlic, and ginger.

[ Chapter Two ]

The young man eats quickly and seriously. Ignoring the fact that that he’s eating at an unhealthy pace, I feel very relieved. When he walks over to return the tray, I ask him a question.

“You’re done, young lad? How’s the taste? Do you think there’s anything to improve on?”

The young man sets the tray down. After a moment of serious contemplation, he give his response.

“The taste isn’t bad. If you’re asking for suggestions, since it’s chicken with chilli, you could add a little more chilli.”

I record his suggestions in my notebook earnestly. At the same time, I’m secretly amazed at how members of the STF are truly talented individuals. I created this chicken with chilli dish based on the spice levels in Sichuan cuisine, but he still didn’t find it spicy enough.

Look like there’s much room for improvement in future dishes.

-

The next day, I continue with my plan to introduce trial dishes. However, most of the STF agents are already used to eating out. The ones who try the dishes are few and far between. Just as lunchtime is about to end, a familiar figure once again appears at the door of the cafeteria.

He’s the young man who ate the chicken with chilli yesterday.

He walks straight in, taking a tray and getting food. Although he doesn’t say anything, I feel very moved, and wonder if this kid dropped by specially to support the canteen’s business.

I inform him that red braised pork is being served today, accompanied with bitter gourd and scrambled eggs. He seems a little hesitant when he sees the bitter gourd. But in the end, he doesn’t say anything, finding a place to sit down and eat.

-

Over the next two weeks, it seems that as long as he isn’t out on missions or doing anything else, that young man would come to the cafeteria.

It appears that he’s a Captain or something. With his impetus, more and more people gradually eat in the cafeteria, and I have a better understanding of his reticent young man.

His name is Gavin, and he’s the Captain of the Special Ops Team. I heard that the Special Ops team is the hardest squad to get into within the STF. They are one of the very best in terms of resolved cases. Everyone in the team are the cream of the crop, much less the Captain.

I heard about how this Captain usually rushes to the most forefront when faced with any danger, which is why he receives much adoration from the team. Of course, the number of injuries and stack of silk banners in the storeroom are proportional to each other.

On the days when he isn’t around, there’s a high chance that he’s out on a mission, or having his injuries treated in the infirmary.

-

“Aunt Wang, give me the same chicken with chilli as Captain Gavin!”

A red-haired agent’s voice pulls me back to reality. He carries a tray, pointing at the chicken with chilli from across the glass. I give him a huge scoop of it. He carries the tray and sits at a row of tables close to the window. There are quite a number of people donning the same uniform, and Gavin is one of them.

“Captain Gavin, why have you fled from our braised beef noodles alliance? You’ve also stopped eating cup noodles with us when we work overtime.”

“Mm, this is something you’re unaware of. Our Captain Gavin has someone who cares for him.”

"Last time, that Miss Producer was filming something and gave us handmade biscuits. You were on leave so you didn’t know about this. Captain Gavin’s biscuits were several times more exquisite than ours. They were even heart-shaped.”

The agents wink at each other and chatter on incessantly. Gavin, the main topic of the conversation, continues eating calmly. When he finally feels slightly annoyed by the clamour, he puts down his chopsticks, glancing at the red-haired agent.

“Tang Chao, it seems that your stamina is getting better with your daily laps.”

“You’ll be my partner for the next mission.”

The red-haired agent immediately pulls a long face.

“Captain Gavin, it's not that I don’t want to be your partner. But based on my fighting skills, I’ll only be a burden to you.”

“I’ll continue shining as a support personnel, and be an emotionless lie detector for the Special Ops Team!”

Gavin ignores the red-haired officer whose name is Tang Chao. But when he lowers his head to drink the soup, I can see his slightly arched brows.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve always been seeing his composed and chilly side, and even thought that was his personality. It turns that he’s still a young man. It’s just that he hides that unrestrained aura that young people have, and doesn’t display it easily.

Perhaps that’s the fetter of being a Captain.

Looking at these young people, I suddenly feel as though I’ve found the reason why my trial dishes have not been successful.

It’s probably because I’ve never tried to truly understand this group of young people.

[ Chapter Three ]

I’m no longer stubborn when it comes to the dishes. Instead, I pay more attention to observing the dietary habits of this group of young people. Gradually, many more pages on the notebook which I use to record modified recipes are written on.

Everything goes smoothly. However, I notice that Gavin hasn’t visited the cafeteria for meals in a long while.

When the red-haired officer comes to collect his food, I scoop pork ribs and winter melon soup for him, and find myself asking him a question.

“Why hasn’t your Captain been coming down to eat in the cafeteria these days?”

He scratches his head, his tone less carefree as before.

“Captain Gavin’s injuries from this mission were a little more serious, so he’s still getting treated in the hospital.”

Before coming to the STF, the word “injuries” was associated with a sliced finger from cutting vegetables, or being scratched while playing with a cat. But after coming to the STF, I realised that there are many other ways people can get hurt.

The STF has doctors who understand Evolvers most in the whole of Loveland City. Logically speaking, even if it’s a fracture or external bleeding, patients can typically be discharged in a week.

That young man called Gavin hasn’t appeared in such a long time. Is he severely injured?

Even though we haven’t exchanged many words, I can’t help but worry about that young man.

He’s still so young. If anything were to happen to him, how worried would his family members be?

Perhaps due to the fact that he was the first agent willing to try food from the cafeteria, I find myself being more concerned about him, and wanting to know more about him. However, STF agents are disciplined and strict. When they’re eating in the cafeteria, they rarely mention Gavin. When he’s occasionally brought up, they say things that I’m unable to understand.

“She went to the hospital again today.”

“That’s fine. Her presence at the hospital is much more useful than a few of us going. At least Captain Gavin would smile a little when he sees her. When we’re there, we’re like stalks of grain, and can do nothing but watch helplessly.”

“The next time the ‘Snake’ bites, we can’t let Captain Gavin hold the fort again.”

In the fog of their conversation, I’m unable to understand anything. I’m getting old, and my ears aren’t as useful. I shake my head, turning around and heading back into the kitchen.

-

Just when I think Gavin’s injuries have rendered him unable to return to the team, he appears.

While I’m writing the lunch menu on the whiteboard, I spot Gavin and his squad mates walking in together. He has become much thinner, and looks very pale. Even so, his entire frame remains as solemn as always, a sense of sharpness emanating from him.

When I hand him braised beef noodles, he gives me a nod.

“Thanks.”

He picks up the chopsticks and eats the noodles. When he sees the slices of beef in the bowl, he’s slightly stunned. However, he returns to normal in an instant, continuing to eat as usual.

When they’re halfway through eating, the communication device at Gavin’s waist suddenly beeps. He presses the communication device, his expression changing when he hears the message.

“The ‘Snake’ has left the hole. Take action.”

With his command, everyone abandon their meal and hurriedly leave the cafeteria.

When Gavin passes by me, I can see traces of blood on the side of his sleeve.

It appears that he’s leaving for a mission before his wounds have completely healed.

The cafeteria lapses into silence. I tidy the table, looking at the beef noodles which only had a few bites taken out of it, and let out a heavy sigh.

I know how difficult it is to join the STF. People who join the STF are so incredible. But I still wish to know what kind of reasons would make such a young person charge forward and risk his life to the point where he can’t even have a proper meal.

[ Chapter Four ]

It’s very late at night, but the STF remains brightly lit.

Similar to the busy agents, I haven’t left either.

After this period of research and testing dishes, I discovered that the people here aren’t picky. They simply lack the time to sit down and eat slowly.

With this in mind, I restart the dish modifications.

The television in the cafeteria is currently showing the Loveland News. The host is reporting on something about “Evol Assassination Incidents”, and is criticising how the STF hasn’t been doing anything about them.

“Things here are turning upside down from how busy they are, and the infirmary is filled with people. And you claim that they aren’t doing anything? Reporters are so irresponsible these days.”

I shake my head, switching the television off. After calling a few colleagues over, we carry supper to the infirmary.

Due to the incident the news was reporting about, the STF has been in a mess recently. I heard that there aren’t enough beds in the infirmary for use.

My heart aches from how these kids are getting criticised even after getting injured. I’ve prepared sweet soup suitable for evening consumption, bringing them to the infirmary while they get treated.

While passing by the Captain’s office, I notice that the door isn’t closed, and I see someone standing inside.

It’s Gavin.

His side is facing the door, his hair is messy, and he’s leaning against the wall. One of his legs is lifted up, and he’s currently pursing his lips as he removes his combat gloves.

He appears to have lacked sleep for several days, and quiet fatigue emanates from his entire frame.

However, he doesn’t seem to have shown this side of him to anyone outside, demanding himself to only leave this version of himself to an empty office in the depths of night.

I knock on the door. The moment he hears this, he quickly straightens up, his sharp gaze sweeping over. When he sees that it’s me, his amber eyes are stunned, and he nods.

“Please come in.”

Walking in, I place a bowl of snow fungus soup on his table.

“Everyone has been working hard in the bureau lately. We decided to make some sweet soup for all of you to relieve the fatigue. Drink this soup while it’s hot. There’s Chinese wolf berry and longan in it, so it’s pretty nourishing.”

Gavin nods. Stray hairs stick messily against the sides of his eyes and brows. I’m guessing that since he’s a kid who usually puts up a strong front, he probably doesn’t like others seeing his sorry state. I hurriedly wave my hands to signal that I’m leaving.

Before I walk out of the door, Gavin suddenly asks me a question.

“Aunt Wang, is your cafeteria recipe modification going smoothly?”

I can hardly believe that he actually remembered such a trivial matter.

Just how many things does he concern himself with?

“Very smoothly. I’ve been looking into a new fast-food style beef noodles, and plan to introduce it to the bureau.”

“Fast-food beef noodles?”

“Mm. There used to be very few people in the cafeteria because I only paid attention to maintaining the nutritional value of dishes. But if people don’t even have the time to eat, how can I talk about nutrition?”

“Right now, I’m looking into preparing beef noodles that are both nutritious and can be eaten really quickly. Such noodles are more diverse in flavour, and the nutritional value is easy to maintain.”

After saying all of this, I follow up with a question.

“But I'm still considering whether to use bean sprouts or eggs as a substitute. Which do you prefer?”

Perhaps few people have asked him something as trivial as his dietary preferences. He gives this very serious thought before providing a careful answer.

“I’d prefer eggs.”

I nod, then find myself giving him my sincere and earnest wishes.

“No matter how busy work is, you need to have proper meals. Even though rice and vegetables seem simple, they are part of life.”

“Whenever you head forward so urgently, have you ever thought of whether you might be forcing yourself too much?”

When Gavin hears this, he’s taken back. I don’t continue. With a sigh, I turn around and leave.

[ Chapter Five ]

The new fast-food beef noodles introduced in the canteen received a huge welcome amongst the agents. It became the favourite supper of agents who worked overtime on cases. Given the positive responses, I also released different flavoured fast-food products. 

With this signature dish, the STF canteen finally became lively every day.

But the strange things is, I didn’t see Gavin for a very long time. I heard that he... temporarily relieved himself of his duties.

I have no idea what happened, but I trust that he had his reasons, and I silently hope that the kid can be safe.

Afterwards, a strange fog enveloped Loveland City. I was protected by STF agents, and later heard that Gavin was the one who retrieved the fog.

-

I’m just about to prepare dinner in the cafeteria when I hear the news that Gavin’s in the hospital. News related to the STF’s retrieval of the fog is being broadcasted, and Gavin’s powerful and resounding voice can be heard.

“This round of the Hunter Game is over.”

I lift my head to see that familiar figure on the television, determined and composed.

“Thank you all for protecting the dignity of this city.”

When he had meals in the cafeteria before, I often wondered how this taciturn young man could persevere on his own, shouldering high pressure that ordinary people find difficult, and also protect tens of thousands of ordinary people.

Right now, I understand.

It’s because he has a heart of justice that’s gentler and more unwavering than anyone else - 

And this heart has guided him onto a path destined to be rugged, where he will pursue justice with no second thoughts.

But I’m still a little puzzled. Doesn’t he find it lonely when walking down this path?

With the assistance of the red-haired agent, I carry chicken wonton soup to Gavin’s hospital ward.

The door is closed, and I can hear an indistinct voice of a girl drifting from the inside.

From across the glass, I see a girl sitting at the bedside, a pink bento box on the table.

The girl is resting a hand against her cheek while supervising Gavin as he eats the bento. Meanwhile, the young man sitting on the bed is eating it one mouthful at a time, earnestly and tenderly.

For some reason, I find myself grinning.

On this path filled with ups and downs, someone is willing to accompany him, wait for him, sit down together with him, and have a serious, proper meal with him.

I leave the hospital with the thermos box.

Being here for so many days, I’ve grown used to this place, grown used to the whistle at 6.30am in the morning, grown used to the agents finishing their meals within ten minutes and rushing off, and grown used to the lights in STF illuminating my path like starlight when I’m heading home at night.

My old companion often asks why an oldie like me continues going to the STF. 

It’s because I can see a broader world here. I can see souls with determined spirits. I’ve never felt more alive and fulfilled in my entire lifetime.

This is the meaning that STF gives me.

I hope that the young man called Gavin, as well as the countless young people who are like Gavin, will always lead a fulfilling life.

...and that they may always be safe.

May he, along with the girl he watches silently, return to life through every meal while embracing justice.

💙 More S2 content: here

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[will-byerz]

BPD MIKE WHEELER HEADCANONS!!

Disclaimer: these are all based on my own thoughts and experiences and in no way am I trying to harm or stigmatise anyone! If there are any issues with this please feel free to dm me and we can talk about it!

El is his Favourite Person

• Which is why he’s always so emotionally charged with her and why he tried to “call” her every day for a year when she was gone!

• This is also why he can’t play dnd anymore because she’s not into it, and why he can’t concentrate on anything else when they break up.

• the idealisation comes from him being a HUGE nerd (Star Wars merch etc in his basement) and El being 1) a GIRL!! Which is new to Mike cause he’s definitely never had a girl be interested in him before and 2) she’s consistently compared to ET in the show, like she’s an alien— and to his little nerd brain that’s so crazy!! He has an ‘alien’ girlfriend! He knows a real life super human!

• this is also why he’s desperate to grow up, because he wants to spend his life with her and imitate what he’s seen happen with his own family, aka he wants to create a nuclear family with her

• he would rather lie to her (nana is sick) than risk losing her for real, because the idea of that is so terribly painful that he’ll do anything it takes not to lose her again.

• constant phone calls to her house, constant visits to her, leaving early from meeting his friends so he can go spend time alone with her. (a/n when I was 14, I would hang out with my fp and my friends all the time and my favourite part of the day was when we would walk home together alone. I would look forward to home time just for that!)

• Seeing Max as a threat when it comes to El.

Pressure in home life/Origin(?)

• His dad is shown to be very withdrawn so there’s a lot of pressure there with growing up to look after his family and be an adult

• Due to Mike’s circumstances of being a guy in the 80’s, his emotions have probably been repressed so much in his household. I imagine because of this, the emotions he does feel are super duper intense/hard to handle, especially when his environment growing up was possibly invalidating due to him being the only son.

• We see a LOT of Mike’s feelings being shut down but either his parents or by the party. Aka a lot of “Mike! That’s not okay to say!” Or “Why would you say that?” And shutting down his thoughts— the way this manifests into his possible BPD is the inability to understand WHY what he has said or done is wrong. No one will explain to him why what he has said is bad, he’s just been told it was bad. Aka more repression!

• He can sometimes be blind to other people’s emotions/a little self centred. This is shown in the infamous Byler scene in season 3 when he’s outwardly harsh to Will, because he thinks Will is being insensitive to his intense feelings over his break up— so in the spur of the moment he says the most hurtful thing he can think of— insinuating that Will is gay and/or that’s a bad thing. Obviously he immediately regrets it and goes after Will, but this decision (like a lot of his other decisions) is very impulsive. He can also be cruel to other characters in the show, including his mom, Lucas, Max and Nancy.

• He blows up on his family quite a lot/has outbursts of anger! This is seen at the dinner table in quite a few episodes, or at El when she is “wrong” about Will being alive or when she accidentally hurts Lucas really bad and Mike has… a few choice words to say to her about it.

• Struggle with authoritative figures; Hopper. That’s all I’ll say.

• once again the disregard for his emotions from his family due to him being “the man of the house” or at least growing into that title as his dad becomes more and more distant.

He shows his love in extreme ways.

• a huge lack of self preservation skills (or even “suicidal” tendencies as the DSM-5 would call it) when he literally jumps off of a cliff to save Dustin from bullies with no regard for how this could hurt him. This is also an Impulsive behaviour!! He obviously cares so greatly about his friends that he is willing to do anything for them.

• Sleeping by Will’s bed when Will is struggling, ‘saving him’ on Halloween, constantly checking up on Will, obsessing over Will’s well being (especially before El becomes his FP). Don’t even get me started on the “Crazy together” scene!

• I think his saviour complex is to cover up an inferiority complex but that’s honestly off my own back I don’t have much to back that idea up.

• He’s beyond nasty to Max because he’s scared his friends will abandon him when she joins the party!

• trouble explaining his emotions! He feels a lot but struggles to label them— aka when he tries to tell El he loves her but can’t figure out what words to say, or even if he feels certain it is love.

• Gift giving to apologise (going to the mall and trying to find a gift for El)

• Suggesting that he is the only person that cares about El and her well being, which is obviously not true but it is very much black and white thinking.

• “what if you want to join another party?” Is also a very ‘please don’t abandon me’ line hdjjdksks

—

That’s all I can think of off of the top of my head for now, but I hope these make sense!

Another quick disclaimer; all of these head-canons are based off of the canon show plot, meaning Mike is 12-15 in this! Doctors will not diagnose anyone under 18 with BPD as a lot of the symptoms are similar to just normal teenage hormones and puberty and all that! I’m not saying he HAS got it, I’m just backing up my own hcs and coping!! I was diagnosed with BPD at 17 despite the under 18 rule, and I had been experiencing symptoms since I was very young!

[xbladekitkat85]

Do You Remember Now?

Summary: It's Peter's birthday and everyone is planning on a surprise when he wakes up. Except there's a huge problem. Peter's gone missing.

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, swearing, ANGST, mentions of dealing with grief.

A/N: I haven't really written angst before so I don't know how hard it's going to hit. I did tear up at one part while typing so maybe it's a bit heavy???

Peter's disappearance happened when everyone least expected it. It was the morning of his birthday, and all the heroes of the universe were going to be there. It would have been the first reunion in over 5 years where everyone was available to come, Asgardians and Guardians as well. Everyone was going to sneak into Peter's room to wake him up with a collective shout of "SURPRISE!" and pop an unnecessary amount of party poppers all over the room.

Tony peeked inside first to make sure that Peter was still asleep before beckoning everyone inside. But he felt a cold draft flowing from the crack between the door and the doorframe that shouldn't have been possible due to the picture windows.

He entered the room to find the window cut open and various items belonging to Peter scattered on the floor. There was no sign of Peter himself and the excited feeling that Tony had all morning quickly twisted into something he had felt only when Pepper had been taken years ago by Killian.

It was the feeling of debilitating fear.

Tony felt a wave of nausea hit him as various scenarios all ran through his head, each with Peter hurt, scared, or possibly even dead.

Pepper was the first to notice Tony hadn't come to get everyone. He came out of Peter's room after a few minutes more of waiting. But he wasn't acting like the excited father he was only moments before.

"Tony, what's wrong?" She asked, feeling anxiety building up with each second of silence.

Tony turned to look at everyone with a haunted look in his eyes. Pepper recognized it as the same expression he had when he had returned from space after fighting Thanos. Something was horribly wrong, and it had to do with Peter.

"Tony, talk to me. What's happening." Pepper asked gently despite the worry she felt.

"Peter's not there." He whispered hoarsely and turned to look at her. "Pep, we can't lose him again."

Morgan, Carter and Harley had heard what Tony said and they all felt a sharp stab of fear and worry. Morgan felt tears burning in her eyes, and buried her face in Carter's shoulder for a moment to compose herself. Carter held her close and stroked her hair while Harley walked into Peter's room to see it for himself.

Harley looked around the entire space. He checked the closet, the hammock near the ceiling, and the bathroom adjacent to Peter's room to no avail.

"FRIDAY, show me the tower's security activity from 11pm last night up until dad opened Peter's door." Harley requested.

But to everyone's shock, there was no familiar response of, "Sure thing boss." from the speakers throughout the tower.

FRIDAY was out of commission. That meant that somebody had been able to shut down an AI made by Tony Stark, which is no easy feat. This meant someone skilled was behind it and most likely planned the kidnapping with extreme scrutiny.

Nothing about the situation was remotely close to how everyone thought this day was going to go.

"We need to get Friday back online ASAP." Morgan shakily said. "If we are able to access the security cameras, there's a chance we might be able to find a clue."

Carter glanced at Morgan and saw the pain and worry in her eyes, and gently took her hand and squeezed it to reassure her. She squeezed it back to acknowledge his presence.

"Morgan, Harley, and Carter, come with me to my lab. Nat, you reach out to any contacts who may know something. Carol, this is a long shot, but I want you to ask off world allies if they have any clues as well." Tony ordered. "Everyone else start looking around the tower for clues of any sort. If you see anything remotely suspicious, make a note of it."

*Time skip*

Nobody had been able to find a trace of a clue regarding Peter's whereabouts.

Not any of Tony's extensive connections had an idea. Natasha's contacts hadn't heard any chatter about a kidnapping or hostage. Carol came up empty from every person she had asked but that wasn't unexpected.

Morgan had been back to school and Carter was supportive whenever she needed reassurance. But after a month of no news, or leads, she was starting to lose the little hope she had left. Peter would promise her before every mission, that he would come home safe and sound. But this time he hadn't come home. She didn't even know where he had gone.

Harley became fixated on building tracking devices, scanners, homing beacons, anything that could help find his brother. Harley had promised to always help Peter if he was in a pinch, regardless of how annoying he could be sometimes.

Tony had shut himself in his lab to fix FRIDAY and go through everything he could think of that could offer some sort of sign, a clue, a word, literally anything to bring Peter back home. He had invented time travel to bring him back so why couldn't he do something as simple as finding a clue? Peter would probably point out an error in his work that would solve his problem but now that wasn't possible.

Pepper busied herself by concentrating on running Stark Industries. Whenever she got the chance, she would drag Tony and Harley out of their labs to eat meals with her. God knows those two would forget to eat if nobody reminded them that food and water was an essential part of living. Peter would usually take care of that but since his disappearance, she took up the job.

Everyone felt a piece of their family was missing. But nobody said his name out loud, even though everyone thought about him.

It just hurt too much to hear his name knowing that by now he was likely dead. That he was never coming home.

And time would continue to pass, as the pain of losing Peter would too.

Until one day, on a mission, everything changed.

*6 months after Peter's disappearance*

HYDRA had suddenly resurfaced with no warnings whatsoever.

They had set off Tony's alert system designed to warn of threats, and a group immediately suited up. Having HYDRA stirring up trouble was never a good sign, especially since they were supposed to be gone. But as the saying goes, "Cut one head off, two more take it's place."

The team that had gone to check out the threat consisted of the original 6 Avengers as well as Harley, Bucky, Kate, and Wanda. Upon arriving at the location that had set off the alarm, they noticed that another group of people were there as well. One person among them in particular stood out to the OG Avengers. Before anyone could make a move, all the Avengers were suddenly knocked down, and tied up so they couldn't move.

"Hey, I found these guys lurking around. Who are they?" An unfamiliar voice asked.

"Yo-Yo, you can let them go. We're friends. Well, at least most of us are, those three I haven't met. It's alright."

All the OG 6 Avengers felt a cold shock run through their bodies. That voice belonged to someone they thought was dead since the Battle of New York.

"Agent Coulson?" Tony asked in shock.

"It's former Director actually and yes, I'm alive." Coulson replied, as everyone was untied by Yo-Yo.

"There's no way." Natasha said as she stood up. "Fury would have said something sooner. And when were you Director of SHIELD?"

"I'm sorry, Nat, but he meant to keep it a secret from all of you. Me being resurrected." Coulson said with regret in his voice. "Said that if you knew, it would have distracted you from your goal."

"Steve, who is this guy?" Bucky asked in confusion.

Coulson's eyes widened in a very comical way when he noticed who had just spoken.

"Sergeant Barnes. It's an honor to meet you." He said, holding out a hand to shake.

Bucky took Coulson's hand to shake and noticed that his hand was not a real hand.

"Your hand... It's mechanical isn't it?" Bucky asked curiously.

"How much has happened with you since we last saw each other?" Steve asked.

"A lot. And we'll talk about it later after we take care of this HYDRA base. I assume that's why you're all here." Coulson said, gesturing to the other group.

"Yes, well, let's introduce the new members of our teams and then make a plan." Steve said.

Coulson informed his team of the change of plans. Everyone on Coulson's team met up for introductions.

"Daisy Johnson, aka Quake. She has the ability to manipulate natural vibrations as well as generate concussive blasts of vibrating air. Elena "Yo-Yo" Rodriguez. She is able to travel at superhuman speeds within the timeframe of a beat of her heart before she bounces back. Hence the nickname, Yo-Yo. Melinda May, expert martial artist, pilot and empath. Mack, Deke, and FitzSimmons are on the Bus right now. You'll meet them later."

Everyone on Tony's side acknowledged their names and took note of their abilities and powers.

"Ok, for the new faces on our side, we have Barnes, the Winter Soldier, who you already know, Wanda, she's got telekinesis and can read minds, Kate, she's Clint's protege, slash eventual replacement and Harley, my oldest kid, who built his own suit." Tony said, introducing the group.

Daisy leaned over to Yo-Yo.

"Tony Stark has kids?" She whispered.

"How the hell would I know?" She responded. "I'm not the former groupie member here."

Daisy glared half heartedly at her.

"I said it was one time!"

"Not my fault you got drunk and told me that story." She shot back.

"Hey, focus we're not here to argue." May interrupted. "We have a mission."

Everyone quickly formed a plan and they all entered the base.

Yo-Yo ran through the halls to assess the amount of security as well as any potentially dangerous weapons. When she was done, she gave the report to Coulson and Tony so they could split their team accordingly.

"May, Harley, Kate, Captain Rogers, Wanda, and I will be one group. Daisy, Yo-Yo, Nat, Clint, Sergeant Barnes, and Tony will be the other. " Coulson explained. "Dr. Banner will be here on comms just in case. I've synced the signal our comms travel on so we're on the same channel. We're going to be split up, so only call for help if necessary. We have about equal amounts of power on each side, so take advantage of every opportunity if need be. Let's go."

Everyone nodded and headed off with their respective groups to raid the base.

(A/N Tony's team will be written in bold and Coulson's team in regular text to avoid unnecessary writing)

Wanda lead the group through the hallways, with May taking out the first few guards easily. Coulson shot ICER bullets at the ones May couldn't focus on while Harley made sure every guard was unconscious. Cap and Kate ran ahead to scout out the next few corridors and the rest of the group quickly followed.

Daisy knocked down the first wave of guards and Yo-Yo tied all of them up while Nat, Clint, Tony and Bucky advanced deeper into the building. A group of guards wielding batons and handguns immediately appeared in their path, blocking the way. Clint shot arrows into the walls that released smoke to obscure the soldiers vision and aim. Tony took advantage of their disorientated state and used heat signature seeking taser blasts to knock them out.

Cap almost got a punch to the face while he rounded a corner but he leaned to the side, barley avoiding it. Kate quickly rushed in and used the man's momentum to flip him over her shoulder into the wall while Cap recovered and punched another soldier trying to attack Kate from behind.

"Thanks." She said, a bit out of breath.

"No problem. Incoming from both sides, get ready." He replied, standing nearly back to back with Kate.

"You got it, Cap." She said, readying her bow.

He threw his shield at the closest guard while Kate shot multiple electric arrows at the hallway in front of her, effectively creating a bolt of electricity that hit multiple targets. They quickly rotated in sync and they repeated the same attacks as before, with Cap taking out the last of the soldiers in his way and Kate knocking out hers.

Tony watched Yo-Yo as she sped forward to scout the next hallway. He couldn't help but think of Pietro Maximoff, and how similar their powers seemed to be. Of course, Yo-Yo bounced back while Pietro didn't. He just kept going forward and never looked back.

Before he could even blink she had returned to the group.

"There's about a dozen guards outside a set of reinforced double doors." She said. "They're guarding something important."

"That's why we're here though. HYDRA has some weapon or something they plan on using, right?" Daisy asked. "Why else would they have resurfaced?"

"It's never a good sign when there's that much security outside an already pretty secure door." Clint added.

"They couldn't have possibly made anything more dangerous than supersoldiers." Bucky muttered.

"I wouldn't put it past HYDRA to find a way to do it." Nat said. "We got to make a plan. We can't just charge in."

Coulson's group had reached the end of the last hallway on their side. There wasn't anything at all to take as evidence or to destroy.

"It can't just be a dead end." Coulson said in disbelief. "There's gotta be a secret door or something at least."

Harley snorted at his complaint.

"I mean that's would I would have done." Kate said thoughtfully. "There wasn't anything of importance on our side of the base. So it makes sense that there's something we're missing."

Cap walked forward and proceeded to rap his knuckles on the wall.

"Whatcha doing there Cap?" Harley joked. "Hoping the secret door will open if you politely knock?"

Cap had moved to the left wall and knocked on it as well.

"He's checking to see if any of the walls sound more hollow than the others." May interjected. "It's a smart idea. It could reveal a hidden room or passage that isn't visible to the naked eye."

Wanda turned to Harley with a raised brow.

"Hey, can't you scan through walls with your suit? That would make this go a lot faster." She asked sarcastically.

Harley froze and everyone turned to look at him.

"Yeah, that would have made this a lot easier." Coulson said wryly.

"I'll get on it." Harley said sheepishly.

He scanned all the walls around them and eventually started walking in another direction.

"This way. There's a room further this way that I can't see through with the scanner. It seems to be lined with lead, which means x-ray scanners won't do the job. Whatever we need to find must be there." He said.

Everyone quickly followed Harley's lead as he walked down the halls, eventually leading them to where the other group had gathered in front of heavy looking doors. The soldiers that had presumably been standing guard were incapacitated on the floor.

(End of bold/regular text switches)

The entire group was preparing to enter the room they stood in front of. Whatever HYDRA had been working on had to be here. Nowhere else in the building had anything significant and this was the final stop.

The door had a keypad that required a passcode as well as a biometric scan. Of course, they could try using the guards to try to pass the retinal scan but there wasn't any guarantee they had access.  Of course, they had to deal with the code as well. Maybe physical force would work.

Tony scanned the door's material and found that it was capable of taking the strongest hit from his and Harley's suit combined.

"All right, does anyone else have any brilliant ideas on how to enter this room?" He asked "I don't have enough firepower for this door."

Coulson turned to Daisy and nodded his head.

"Do your thing." He said.

She rolled her eyes and approached the keypad to the door and forced the device to open, revealing circuit boards and wires.

"What is she doing?" Harley asked in confusion. "I thought she could blast through stuff?"

Daisy took out a small tablet and hooked it to the keypad, quickly typing out code and breaking through the security.

"You're lucky I still carry a tablet, Coulson. We would have been in trouble otherwise."

Tony was impressed and slightly scared of how fast she broke through HYDRA's mainframe of security. He made a mental note to update his security system as well as FRIDAY's firewalls.

After a couple minutes of rapid typing, the door opened with a hiss of cold air.

"Remind me to change all my passwords on my social media." Harley said to his suit's AI.

"All right, lets see what HYDRA has been working on." Coulson announced. "Prepare yourselves for anything."

They walked into the room and immediately, everyone noticed the change of temperature compared to the rest of the base.

FRIDAY informed Tony that it was 10 degrees in the room and understandably, everyone was shivering.

Tony walked a bit further and then stopped suddenly. He felt his blood run colder than the room itself.

Coulson had said to be prepared for anything but he clearly didn't have this in mind of the things he needed to steel himself for.

"Oh my god." Kate whispered. "Is it?"

"Peter?" Harley asked in disbelief.

Tony's son was in the corner of the room, curled up in the fetal position, and unresponsive to the world around him.

"FRIDAY, scan for any vital signs." Tony asked desperately.

"He's got a pulse, but I believe he may be in a comatose state. He is also dehydrated and malnourished."

Coulson's team didn't know who this Peter was, but they knew based on everyone else's reaction that he was someone who had been missing for a long time.

"FitzSimmons, do you read me?" Coulson said into his earpiece.

"Yes sir, what's wrong?" Jemma's voice replied.

"We need you to set up the medbay immediately. Get an IV drip sufficient for dehydration as well as malnutrition." Coulson ordered. "We also need heat lamps, if you got any."

"Right away sir." She replied.

Steve picked Peter up and everyone followed him out of the base, back to safety.

*Time skip to returning to New York*

Morgan had been in the middle of a meeting for student council when her watch buzzed. Although it wasn't unusual for that to happen, this time it was buzzing in a pattern that meant there was an emergency that she could not ignore.

"May I be excused to go to the bathroom?" She asked the teacher, who nodded her approval.

She grabbed the hall pass and made her way to the bathroom and checked to see what the message was.

The message was from Harley and what he had sent broken down the walls of composure she had been building for 6 months.

Morgan, we found Peter. We're almost back to the tower and mom's picking you and Carter up. We'll tell you more when you get here.

She sank to the floor and started to sob.

How was this possible?

Where had he been?

How was he alive?

Was he still alive?

More and more questions ran through her head and she finally calmed down enough to exit the bathroom without looking like she had just had a breakdown. When she walked back into the classroom she was handed a summons to leave early.

She arrived at the attendance office and Carter was already there, waiting for her with Pepper by his side.

They all hugged for a good long while and they all cried a bit before Happy started to drive to the tower to meet up with everyone.

"Mom? Is he alive?" Morgan asked hoarsely.

She was silent for a bit before replying.

"He's alive but he's in a coma of sorts."

"Do we know why?" Carter asked.

"Dad said it was extensive exposure to frigid temperatures and that the spider DNA caused him to hibernate because of it." She answered.

"Do we know when he's supposed to wake up?" Carter questioned.

"I don't know honey." Pepper said honestly. "We have to hope for the best."

Morgan felt her heart sink in her chest as they pulled into the parking garage.

Everyone got out as soon as the car was parked and rushed to the elevator.

"FRIDAY, take us to the medbay where Peter is." Pepper said.

"Right away miss." She replied.

They made it to the medbay in record time and rushed to Peter's bedside, where he was still asleep.

Morgan almost didn't recognize that it was Peter in the bed.

His face was unnaturally pale and gaunt and he had lost weight, his frame looking thinner and weaker because of it. His hair was longer than she had ever seen it before and was tangled in knots. He had multiple bruises scattered around his body that should have been healed.

Tony and Harley walked into the room soon after and Morgan hugged them both extra tightly as she let out months worth of fear and anxiety in the form of tears.

"Shhhh, Maguna, it's ok, he's home." Tony whispered. "Breathe, you have to breathe."

"I thought he was dead." She sobbed into his chest.

"I know, but he's here now, everything's going to be ok." Tony reassured her gently.

Carter and Pepper joined in the hug and they all comforted each other.

Peter was finally home, where he belonged.

And he was about to wake up from his slumber.

"Hello?" a voice said, cracking in the middle of the word. "Where 'm I?"

Harley turned his head towards Peter so fast he almost gave himself whiplash.

"He's awake!" He said.

Everyone let go from the hug to gather around Peter's bed.

"Peter, are you ok? How do you feel?" Carter asked.

Peter turned to look at Carter.

"Who're you?" He asked confusedly.

Peter looked at all the people standing by his bed.

"Who are you guys?" He asked. "What am I doing here?"

Everyone's hearts collectively sank at his question.

Peter didn't remember anyone in this room. He couldn't recall his family. What had HYDRA done to him?

"Peter, we're your family." Morgan explained shakily. "I'm Morgan, your little sister. That's Harley, your brother, Carter, my boyfriend. That's mom and dad over there. Don't you remember at all?"

Morgan's voice broke as she asked him that question.

Peter looked at everyone's faces, one by one, trying his best to remember them but he couldn't. His memories were blank with a capital 'B'.

"Maybe photos or videos might help?" Carter offered weakly.

"FRIDAY pull up video footage from the folder, Family Shenanigans."

FRIDAY displayed footage from the timeframe that the Avengers were playing pool in the rec room.

Tony was on a team with Carter and Harley and Morgan were on the other. Peter and Pepper were watching them play from the side.

"Come on Harley, you can do better than that!" Tony teased as he put chalk on his cue stick. "Morgan's been carrying your team the whole game."

"No way, I've hit at least half of our balls in the pockets!" Harley protested, even though he knew he was spouting bullshit.

"I've done two behind the back shots and made them, how many have you done?" Morgan piped in, absolutely decimating Harley, the Roast King himself.

Everyone burst out laughing at her comeback and Tony immediately fell to the floor from laughter and pounded his fist on the ground.

Morgan had never seen her dad laugh so hard at something, let alone everyone else, including Natasha, who usually never let more than a chuckle out when she found something hilarious.

"WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON ANYWAY?!" Harley yelled at her over all the laughter.

"That's my sister!"  Peter said proudly, with tears of laughter in his eyes.

Friday played other videos taken during random moments, as well as displaying photos. Everyone took turns explaining what had happened that day and why it was special. Peter asked questions here and there and everyone answered patiently and with extra detail to help.

Eventually, they had gone through the entire folder and Morgan glanced at Peter to see if there was a flicker of recognition at all.

"Do you remember now?" She asked him softly.

Peter had tears in his eyes as he answered.

"I'm so sorry." He said.

Morgan wanted to scream her heart out. He still didn't remember his family. She didn't know if he ever would.

"I've been gone so long, and HYDRA erased my memories. But you guys were able to find me before they could finish the job for good." He said, finishing what he had wanted to say. "I do remember you guys. I can't believe I ever forgot how much everyone here means to me."

Pepper let out a gasp as she nearly tackled him in a hug. Everyone felt a huge weight lift from their shoulders as Peter laughed weakly at everyone's faces.

"Peter, don't you ever scare us like that again!" Harley scolded with tears running down his face.

"That was a shitty thing to do, seriously." Carter said, annoyed but mostly relieved that Peter was back.

"Peter, never forget how much we love you." Tony said, wiping a tear away from his cheek.

"I can't believe you're back." Morgan said, smiling despite the fact she was still crying a bit.

"I'm here, and I won't be leaving you guys like that again." Peter replied. "I mean, I'm bedridden at the moment anyway."

Everyone groaned at his joke before a group hug formed around Peter.

Everything was as it should always have been.

A/N: Here's a little fun fact about this chapter, the part where Morgan roasts Harley is based on something that happened within my family a couple years ago. In my family's version, I was on a team with my cousin and my dad and another cousin were on the other team. The dialogue is basically word for word what happened. I roasted my cousin, and my everyone started laughing, and my dad literally fell to the floor and was pounding his fist on the ground.

Taglist: @frostedgiant

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[bondsmagii]

This is definitely one of the… wilder stories here, but as always, I suppose people will believe what they will. 

This will unfortunately require some backstory, but I guess you could say the long and the short of it is that I played at being God, and it. Well. Kind of sucked, actually.

So, the backstory. I’ll try to keep it brief. I grew up in a small country village about forty-five minutes away from Belfast, Ireland. There wasn’t much going on there, as you could imagine – just a standard rural Irish town, where the most exciting thing that might happen in a week was old Farmer Joe getting a new tractor or something. Anyway, I’m not sure how many of you know about Ireland’s rather troubled past, but for the most part I missed all that. I was born around the time things were finally settling down, and while my earlier memories are filled with bomb scares and low-flying helicopters and gunshots in the night, the distant sound of shouting and the acrid smell of smoke burning a little too close for comfort, by the time I hit my teenage years most of it had wrapped up. Of course, there was the occasional scare here and there, and I’m not saying my friends and I didn’t go out looking for trouble once we were old enough, but it wasn’t the same. I’m not saying that out of a sense of, I don’t know, regret or annoyance or anything. Now I’m older, I’m not so enamoured by the idea of that much violence. I’m just saying it wasn’t really a patch on the kind of violence that used to happened there – the kind of violence that fascinated my friends and I so much. It sounds bad, but really we were just kids being kids. Little boys everywhere play at war games. It just so happened that the war we were playing had happened in our own country. It’s difficult not to be obsessed, when you see the reflection of history on the faces of every generation around you. Even slightly older siblings would know all about it – it wasn’t something you asked your grandfather, distant war stories over some vague European country that you’ve only seen on a map in your Geography classroom. This was our street corners, our high streets, the road outside the house. Here the grass verge at the side of the road where the bodies were dumped; there the lay-by where over a dozen people were blown to pieces. It was awful, but we were children. We were enamoured.

Anyway. The only violence we got really involved in was the summer rioting that happened yearly, like clockwork. It sounds like a joke, but that’s how it goes. You don’t need to know the details, but suffice to say in mid-July every year, the city would light up like we were back in the 1970s. Localised, of course, and still nowhere near as drastic as it used to be, but enough to get a taste. Petrol bombs. Police lines. Armoured cars. Water cannons. Unrestrained summer fun, you could say. But that’s for a bit later.

I’m a writer. I have been since I was four years old. Generally speaking I’m a horror writer, but I’ve branched into historical fiction a fair bit over the years. Living in Ireland, growing up how I did, it was inevitable that I would develop a fascination for Irish history. I was always a very curious child, my head in books, chasing up stories that would keep me awake at night. I never knew any boundaries. I would go after answers with military precision, asking questions, going places I shouldn’t. Dangerous for anyone, of course, but in a country like mine, where crossing the road could quite literally lead to your murder? It was reckless. I was reckless. But that’s the thing about being that age. You think you’re invincible. You think you can do anything.

I was about fourteen or fifteen, at the height of this obsession. I believe I was fifteen when I wrote this particular story, but it’s difficult to say. It was part of a series, and I was going back and forth on it and other projects for many years. Here we finally get to the point of the whole story: I had developed an obsession with Irish history, as I said, and specifically the more “modern” history – from 1916 onwards, the Easter Rising, the War of Independence, all that. I was fascinated by the Irish struggle for freedom, and while age and hindsight has lessened my… enthusiasm for the violence, I do maintain a strong opinion towards the whole thing, which is not the point here so I won’t get into it. What I’m trying to say is that my stories reflected this enthusiasm, and were undoubtedly glorifying in nature, and also at that age I was more concerned with living the fantasy than doing the research, so it was all very self-indulgent. I’m sure anyone who wrote at that age knows what I mean.

My main character… well. I’m sure you know what to expect. He was—well. Me, really. In the way of all main characters at that age, and perhaps a little even as we get older, there’s a piece of us inside all our main characters. Sometimes a little piece, other times just a cooler and more badass version of yourself. Michael was that for me. I suppose that must is obvious; I wasn’t even trying to be subtle. My name is of course Miceál, which for those of you keeping track is the Irish form of Michael. I’m just grateful that I didn’t go as far as to give him my last name, too, but everything else was there. He looked like me, he held the same views and beliefs as me, he acted like me – or at least, he acted in the ways I liked to think I’d act, or how I imagined acting later that night in the shower, reliving the scenario again. He was the best kind of self-insert character, indulgent and fun and a good friend to me. I poured a lot of myself into him. I poured everything into him. He was a constant companion, something that became ever more important to me as my real life—well, went to shit. To put it mildly. I would sit in my room writing my stories, and Michael would go out there and fight the good fight, killing and bombing for good old Ireland, and then I’d shut my computer down and go to sleep feeling just a little better than otherwise.

I’m not afraid to say that I can be obsessive. I like to get into the heads of my characters; I like to know them as well as I know everything. Yes, Michael was me, but he was also a version of me who had done things I have never done. Sometimes I would try to imagine myself as him; wonder what it was like to see through his eyes. Wonder what a me who had done that would look like. Wonder what he would do in a situation. I asked myself that a few times; a lot of times. What would Michael do? I could have put that shit on a wristband. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I’ve always been a bit of a method writer like that. It was normal, until it wasn’t.

I first saw Michael on a hot July day, in Belfast. What we call the rioting season had come around; my friends and I were there to take advantage. Just at the sidelines, mind you – nobody wants to get a face full of water cannon, even on the hottest of days. Michael was in the thick of it though. Of course he was. I’d written him to be that way.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. At first I thought I must be seeing things, but the more I looked the more I realised he looked exactly like me. Only he was a little taller, a little fitter, and his hair looked different. His clothing was different, too; perhaps a couple of decades out of date, but looking at him I saw his clothing didn’t remain consistent. The changes were subtle – material, tone – but I noticed. Looking back, I assume it’s because I never did give a specific date for his story to occur in. Well, wherever he was from he was there now, throwing rocks with the best of them, skipping from stone to stone and hurling them at police lines with an easy swing that could only come from years of practise. When we had all finally cleaned out the area – soldiers coming, a helicopter, the kind of trouble you don’t want to toy with – I managed to catch up with him. He was talking to my friends. They noticed we were both there, but didn’t seem to realise we were two different people. The whole time we were all talking, I couldn’t take my eyes off of Michael. I tried, because I knew how obvious I was being, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t work him out. I couldn’t even trust that’s what I was seeing. And the whole time, Michael watched me back. I knew the look in his eyes. It was his smug little, I know something you don’t know look. Of course I knew it. I had made him like that. I had given him that look.

I didn’t see him for some time after that. Believe it or not, I put it out of my head. I mean, come on. It was probably some other guy that my friends knew. We were in Belfast enough, and Michael isn’t exactly an uncommon name. I put it out of my mind, but I was sure that sometimes, I saw him. I was sure I’d see him in Belfast, ducking down side streets or leaning in close conversation with someone I couldn’t make out. He was always watching me. Sometimes I’d feel eyes on me and know it was him, but when I looked around I wouldn’t spot him. On some occasions – and these were always the worst – I would feel his eyes behind my own. Like he was on the inside looking out, moving independently in there, a set of eyes swivelling around over my own. It happened most often when I was trying to write his story. As you can imagine, I was nervous to do so. The more I thought I saw him, the less I wanted to write, but I didn’t think that was a good idea either. I didn’t know what to do.

It was a sunny weekend just before school started back after summer that I finally resolved to do something about it. I didn’t even feel stupid as I booted up my old Windows 95 desktop and opened Word. Michael’s story was there, in 12-point font as I always wrote then, plenty of enthusiasm but a lot less technical skill. My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, and then I typed.

Hello?

Nothing, of course. I deleted the word, wondering what I had expected. Feeling a little stupid now, I tried to think about where to go with the story. It was difficult to write now I had some kind of real person to assign to it all – what were the ethics here? How could I—

I won’t get into that. It would be a philosophical essay all of its own. I sat for a while wondering what to write, and then it hit me that the story had changed. The words Michael had spoken, in the paragraph that I had left off – they were no longer the words I had written. I forget what the original words were now, but they were something relatively simple; some response to another character, and I remember that another name was mentioned in it – the name of Michael’s in-universe best friend, Eamon. Now that name was gone, and the rest of the text had changed, too. Now the writing read something different entirely.

I thought you wanted to know?

I lied earlier. I said that age and experience and perhaps some more emotional maturity had led me to turn away from the kind of violence that fascinated me so much then, and I have no doubt that under normal circumstances it would have done. I had somewhat of a speed run, however; I turned my back on it because

I’m getting ahead of myself.

I had often wondered what it would be like to do what Michael did, of course. To kill and risk death for a cause, to face down prison, torture, exile. I had wondered what it would be like to commit those acts; how easy or difficult it would be to pull a trigger or push a detonator. I liked to think, in my foolish, idealistic teenage mind, that if it came down to it I could. Of course, I was in the very privileged position to not have to actually answer that question.

Michael, on the other hand, knew. And Michael was, if not me, than a product of me. Could it be possible that he could show me?

I ignored the message for several days. I didn’t know what to think. Truth be told I thought I was going mad. School started again and I got so busy that I almost, almost forgot about it – and then I opened the document by mistake one day, got into reading it over, laughing at my brilliant comebacks, you know how it is. And there it was again.

I thought you wanted to know?

Yes, I remember thinking. It stunned me – I remember that. I didn’t want to mess with this kind of stuff – I’ve always been a huge believer in the paranormal, always been cautious when it comes to fucking with that kind of stuff. I believe that magic like this, it requires intent. It needs you to be sure. It knows how you feel, true in your heart. So even when I ignored it again, even when I deleted the words and re-wrote whatever the original had been, even as I didn’t reply… I knew in my heart that my question had been heard by something. I could feel Michael’s eyes on me again, though now I wondered if it was Michael’s eyes, or something else entirely. It felt like a weight. Have you ever been in an old, old place, where you can practically feel the people who lived and died there; reach out and touch them? It felt like that. Like the weight of history was pressing down on me. I didn’t fall asleep easily that night, but when I did sleep was dark and endless.

I don’t know how long I spent in that state. In reality it was only seven hours; I woke up with my alarm. In that time period, wherever I was – because I was not living – I seemed to witness a hundred different lives. Over the course of Michael’s story I had him do all kinds of things; live all kinds of situations. I deleted things, changed others, added things in. I wrote what would now be called alternate universes. In that night I experienced them all. I know how it feels now. I know how it feels to pull a trigger; to watch the spray of someone’s life splatter a wall or a windscreen or the screaming backseat passengers of a car. I know how it feels to push the button, the one that sends a charge surging down a wire or flickering out over my head in an invisible wave of death, notifying the bomb, detonating the explosives. I know how it feels to sit in a hotel bar across a border, listening to the news, sipping a drink and feeling my heart beat in my chest as I add more numbers to the tally, more blood to my hands. I know how it feels to be shot, to be beaten, to watch a friend die, to kill someone who used to be – who still is, despite everything – a friend. I know how it feels to cough blood into my hands, onto the ground; to grip a wound that won’t stop bleeding; the blinding flash of an explosive detonating too soon and how the whole world seems to roar and how there’s a difference between the thud and slap of wet mud hitting the ground and the warmer, denser rain of something that used to be human. For days, weeks, years – I walked in Michael’s shoes, I lived his life, I committed every act.

I felt his pain. His fear. This hellish world that he lived in, created to kill and die and lose and fear, over and over. To meet his God and to finally, finally ask – why?

And what could I say? Because I wanted to know?

Well. Now I do.

[ghostietoasty]

Why Sherlock Holmes FGO is Sus: Theories and More

Before I begin, I’d like to give thanks to my wonderful friend for all the points, art, and info searching that have been made to produce this piece, I can’t appreciate you enough for the effort you put in. 🥺🙏💕

Alright now on to it!

INTRODUCTION: Humble Beginnings (Identification of the Abnormal)

If you’ve played the app Fate/Grand Order for a while you’d know about the Heroic Spirit we first encounter in a hole within Camelot’s dessert whilst going to the Atlas Institute. Smart, handsome looking, and sharp enough to discern our True Name, this man of mystery has been seen as an oddball by many long time players of the game. There are many aspects about him that raise doubt about his credibility, is he truly what he wants us to think he is? That servant is Sherlock Holmes (Ruler) and there are many theories about him having some secrets, about him either being a Foreigner class, Beast class, or something else entirely. We are attempting to catalogue all this information in one place for maximum clarity.

SECTION 1: Other Character’s Reaction (First Impression is the Best Impression) *WARNING LOSTBELT 1 AND 2 SPOILERS AHEAD*

From the first encounter in Camelot right until the end of Lostbelt 2, there are many instances of characters reacting to his presence in….interesting ways.

Bedivere, when first coming in contact with Holmes in Camelot says that "I suppose I've never really been good with people like him. He reminds me of Merlin."

It could refer to the mysterious manner in which both Holmes and Merlin conduct themselves, but better to keep in mind that Merlin is a Grand Caster, and that he manifests as a servant due to specific circumstances (he is not dead).

In Camelot, Mash assumes that Holmes must be Caster class and that the original novels by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle must have been biographies penned by Dr. Watson under a pen name. Holmes corrects her, saying that: "My true identity, my essence, is slightly different from what you may think. And sad, but that is not the purpose of our gathering here today."

This dilemma is also present in the Sherlock Holmes Trial Quest (which mostly tackles the debate of whether he's a fictional character or someone who actually existed). Holmes has a line where he says:

"Ah, yes. I mentioned I was a Caster. Forgive me, I lied."

This is however immediately followed up by:

"A jest. My apologies. I couldn't help myself." 

This sort of backpedalling raises a doubt as to whether he was really Caster class before, so the nature of his former class is still a mystery. He later mentions that his Ruler class is the World telling him that not all illusions and dreams need to be laid bare.

When meeting with Salieri in Lostbelt 1, Holmes introduces himself as such:"I'm Sherlock Holmes, Chaldea's administrative advisor. I became a servant through unusual means, just like you."

Salieri was only summonable as a servant  because of his reputation caused by the fact that he killed Mozart. He is under the effect of Innocent Monster. It can also be said that Salieri is a lostbelt servant and is significantly more sane than he would have been in a normal summoning, that was the unusual summoning that Holmes was refering to. Does this mean Holmes is not from Proper Human History? 

Sigurd (who's under the control of Surtur), while attacking us in Lostbelt 2 says this: "So, a human and two Heroic Spirits. No, wait. Neither of you are pure Heroic Spirits, are you? You've both got something else mixed in. Hehe, hybrids then. Interesting" 

This is in reference to Holmes and Mash, who are alongside the master at this moment. Mash is a demiservant (human+servant) hence the "Hybrid" comment makes sense, but Holmes? What is the "something else" mixed in with Holmes?

Later in LB2, Holmes requests the assistance of Scáthach-Skadi in beating Surtur. Skadi says that normally she would never pay mind to what a mere Heroic Spirit had to say but: "...but in your particular case…I sense wisdom in those beautiful eyes. You remind me of Baldr, god of light." Quite a bit later, she also has this to say:"Perhaps those piercing eyes of yours in fact surpass Odin's? Mystic Eyes, perchance? ….No, that's not it. They merely reflect your wisdom born of human history's cumulative accomplishments."

She says that's not it, but the fact that it was the first thing she thought of shouldn't be ignored. 

Baldr is the god of light. Holmes' attacks consist of beams of light, and his cane lights up when he's using it in battle.

In Norse legends, Odin is said to have sacrificed one eye to the spring of Mimir in order to get ancient wisdom, the ability to perceive everything in the world. 

SECTION 1.5: More Reactions (From JP Only)

Since it is JP only and there is no official translation for NA yet, this information cannot be 100% confirmed in any way. (Most of this is from Reddit translation done by fans). But as these are also important, it's best to put this information separate section.

Moriarty's interlude involves him finding a micro-singularity in London. At some point the transmission between Chaldea and the master gets cut and Moriarty reveals he created this scenario, made the singularity and everything to get one on one time with the master. He tells us not to trust Holmes. When the time comes, we as master should choose Moriarty over Holmes. 

It has to be kept in mind that Moriarty is not a good guy, he is a character created entirely to oppose Holmes so it is natural that he doesn't trust him. For all we know, it is just emotional manipulation. 

Moriarty's very nature is tied to being the antithesis of Holmes. Holmes might theoretically go against us for the sake of humanity while also trying to keep us safe (the master is in a way, a Watson replacement to him after all) while Moriarty would gladly let humanity burn for the sake of us but also for the sake of being completely opposite to Holmes and keeping his identity as such.

However he does raise valid points, how was Holmes able to rayshift? This part was never explained, and he also mentions that his hypothesis has a fatal contradiction in the fact that Holmes risked his life to save ours. What can be inferred from this is that Holmes is a good man and is on our side, but there is something very weird about him that should not be ignored.

In Lostselt 5 it is mentioned at one point that Zeus called Holmes dangerous, he mustn't look at Zeus or the other gods and that his eyes are enemies of the world.

It has to be mentioned that this is some heavy emphasis on Holmes' eyes (Skadi mentioned Holmes' eyes twice, and she was a god as well). Is it because of the nature of Holmes that he is the one that reveals all truth? Is that in some way detrimental to gods, magic and the world in general?

Recently, from Holmes' skill upgrade interlude there was a section about Holmes saying that he is always an ally of justice and that while he may be on our side, he is still capable of evil but it doesn't change the fact that he is our ally. Even then it seems he has some secrets that can't be understood by himself.

By now with the presence of Dr. Jekyll and Helena and their recounts on what happened, it is confirmed that Holmes was actually "alive"(?)

Some of the adventures penned by Dr. Watson were actually censored versions of the original happenings, which were magical in nature.

Holmes was traumatised(?) by Helena's death back when they were both alive. He swears he would never let that happen again. (remember what happened in lostbelt 2…)

It seems that Holmes himself is not fully sure of what is secret about him. Since he utterly dislikes talking about something without being 100% sure about it (this tendency of his has gotten us in trouble before) plus his general secretive nature, it can be said that this is why he wouldn't talk about that.

SECTION 2: Weird Things That Holmes Does (And Other Questions)

Heroic Spirits are anything but normal, but there are few servants who break the norm even further, and Holmes is one of them.

Holmes is able to Rayshift (presumably) from London, to Camelot, and then to Shinjuku. There are very few servants who are able to manifest themselves. 

Musashi also appears here and there, but it's not a deliberate choice on her part. She is not able to predetermine her next destination. 

Arthur travels from a parallel world to this world, but this is due to "chasing after a certain powerful antagonist, evil omen" - so he tells.

Beast class has the skill of Independent Manifestation which would allow the servant to manifest anywhere they'd want. Merlin, Tamamo Vitch and Shiki possess it. However, it has to be noted that Holmes' rayshifts have a significant toll on his saint graph, as he is unable to fight or defend himself by the time we meet him in Camelot. While normal Independent Manifestation shouldn't lead to the depletion of the user's saint graph. Holmes' class is unknown at the time of his rayshifting. 

At the time of summoning, Heroic Spirits usually reveal their class and True Name (there also are exceptions to the rule). At the time of his summoning, Holmes doesn't reveal his Class: "Are introductions necessary? I am a detective. If you were expecting a hero, my apologies...But if you wanted a detective or an investigator, you drew the right card."

In the case of EOR Servants whose names haven't been found, they reveal their class.

Who summoned Holmes? The only thing we know regarding his presence was that it was first clearly there when he tampered with information in London.

Holmes' illustrator is Yamanaka Kotetsu, who was also the illustrator of the beasts Tiamat and Goetia

The artists who design and illustrate the characters tend to do it in groups of servants who are related to each other in some way (Pako with Arjuna and Karna Chacha and Nobunaga; Miwa Shiro with Brynhildr and Sigurd). It is strange that Kotetsu designed only Holmes, Tiamat and Goetia.

(NEW ADDITION) It should also be noted that as an illustrator Kotetsu has had previous works in a Lovecraftian Guidebook and is also the artist to the Alien God Preistess, somewhat showing how their work leans more to the outerworldly.

SECTION 3: The Design

It is a very commonly noticed fact that Holmes' coat in his third ascension has a very similar shape to that of the Foreigner card artwork.

The pattern work on the coattails of the foreigner art and the inside (blue) part of Holmes' coattails have a very similar, if not exactly same pattern running down the entire length of it. The sphere summoned in Holmes' Noble Phantasm also has the same pattern on its sides and front.

There is a "fog" around Holmes in his third ascension, which is reminescent of the smoke in the card art. (Also can be the London smog).

The glowing section of the abdomen of the being reminds one of the metallic corset that Holmes wears. 

There are 4 notches of smoke on either side of the being (total 8), under their cape. If we stretch our interpretation, then it could mean Holmes' arms and the metal arms that he has is also equal to 8.

In that tangent, the shape of the coat is also similar to that of Saver class Buddha, the fantasy trees from Lostbelt 3 and 4, and the Shadows made by the 6th imaginary element.

The Endless Knot / Shrivatsa symbol on his shoulders is one of the many references of his connection to Tibet (faking his death after the Final Problem). It is an important symbol in both Jainism and Buddhism.

Some of its interpretations include:

The eternal continuum of mind.

The union of wisdom and method.

Since the knot has no beginning or end it also symbolizes the wisdom of the Buddha

the endless cycle of suffering or birth, death and rebirth within Tibetan Buddhism.

The cane that Holmes wields has a pattern on its handle in the shape of a Prayer Wheel. 

However, we are not able to find the meaning behind the script on the cane. Both of us attempted to translate it but failed. If anyone can translate the meaning it would be greatly appreciated.

The holographic books in the base of the unidentified sphere have a pattern on their front that greatly resembles a lotus. 

In Holmes' third ascension, there are a number of magical circuits on his coat.

The circuits are almost only on his left side, with very few circuits on his right side. It's not like it was woven into it, were that the case the circuits would have been all over his coat in a more even distribution. It's almost like an impact radius.

The circuits are very similar to the ones visible on the title screen of the lostbelts, as well as the patterns seen on the fantasy trees.

CONCLUSION SECTION: Something's Up (It's Big Brain Time)

It's clear that something is very strange about Holmes, from his interactions to his design, it's clear that there is too much effort into throwing these hints that it's not just a red herring.

Is he a Foreigner? Beast? Counter Guardian? Some other unknown extra class? It cannot be said at the moment. Holmes' role as a revealer itself is dangerous to mystery and magic, so it can be anything.

 It is also not necessarily true that just because Holmes has all these abnormalities, that he will betray us, or is on the side of evil. When has there been a clear cut side of good or evil anyway? It can be argued that we are the villains in some way, as we bring about the end of these timelines to safeguard our own proper human history. 

Holmes has always been on the side of humanity and will continue to be, the question is what the reveal will be, why and how. That, only time and future chapters can answer, all we can do is speculate.

[silkylious]

Pro heroes Katsuki , Deku, Kiri trending on Twitter after posting a video of them and their s/o doing the baby mama dance how they react and

A/N: Thank you for the request! since you didn’t specify if you wanted a scenario or headcanons, i’ll do headcanons since they're easier for me to write, hope thats okay!

also i have a todoroki oneshot in the works, so stay tuned for that!

Kirishima Eijirou

Kirishima was probably the one to bring up the dance in the first place. A toothy grin stretched his face as he leaped over the back of the couch, where you’d been enjoying a quaint read, a dainty hand caressing your engorged stomach. His hand snatching the book right out from your grasp, he didn’t give you a chance to respond before he practically shoved his phone in your face. An eyebrow raised skeptically at his antics, shifting your gaze to the screen in front of you. 

“Eiji, what’s this...?” He explained the challenge, his sharky smile only widening the further he explained. You were a little hesitant at first, and as you were about to voice your apprehension, your eyes caught sight of his smile, childlike and boyish. Fuck. How could you say no to that?

You spent a good half an hour trying to get the dance moves right, Eijirou cheering you on while fucking up his own moves. 

Kirishima can’t dance to save his life. You can’t convince me otherwise. But did that stop him? Nope.

He adjusted the camera on make-shift tripod, consisting of boxes and other random objects. he started the timer and you two began busting out moves, Eijirou still lacking all the skill needed for this exercise, his moves choppy and uncoordinated, though his enthusiasm made up for his amateurism. The precious grin adorning his face made you glad you took him up on his offer.

By the end of the routine, both of you were left panting for oxygen. He heaved a breathless chuckle before pulling you into his grip from behind, his large hands gingerly stroking your tummy, his lips pressed lovingly to your cheek. With his signature million watt smile ever present on his face, he sighed out words of tranquil, “Thanks for doing this, babe,” he pressed another exaggerated kiss to your face.

The video was posted on his official Twitter, right before you went to bed.

The next morning, no words could articulate the sheer affection you felt bubbling up in your chest when you opened your eyes to the sight of Eijirou’s pure jubilation. Just the look of unbridled happiness on his face made you fall head over heels for him all over again. While you were busy ogling him, his own heart accelerated with uninhibited pride and love as his eyes scanned the screen in his hands.

Kirishima loved to show you off, how could he not? you were amazing in every sense of the word, and you were all his, to love and to cherish. So you can only imagine the utter joy he felt when he saw #TinyRiot trending on twitter.

He skimmed through the countless replies and comments of people congratulating the couple and clowning on his less than impressive choreography, some were from his coworkers, some were from his fans, he replied to them as best as he could with delight radiating off of him. He continued going through his mentions until he eventually felt the heated stare on his face. Turning to his side, he finally met your eyes, your rounded figure peacefully nestled beside him on the bed, your stare so full with love and mirth it made his chest tighten, almost suffocating him.

Kirishima has always been good with words, and people in general but in that moment no matter how hard he tried to speak nothing would come out of his mouth, captivated by your adoring gaze. You looked at him like he was your entire universe. And he couldn’t handle that, the feeling building in his gut becoming too much for him.

 He had to let it out, less he spontaneously combust. Since he knew his voice would fail him if he tried to speak, he settled for pulling you in for a passionate kiss, hoping it would convey all the words he couldn’t say.

Midoriya Izuku

When you first approached him with the idea he had been a bit apprehensive. Don’t get him wrong, heaven knows he’d do anything to keep you content. But being in the position he was in, Izuku was painfully, sadly aware of the target put on not only his back, but his family as well. 

He didn’t want to expose you and his child to the danger that came with his blinding spotlight.

Izuku wears his heart on his sleeve. No matter how hard he tried to mask it, the boy was an open book, so you could immediately sense the reluctance on his face when you mentioned posting the video online.

You knew of the complications that came with dating a Pro-hero, the number one Pro-hero, so you were perfectly understanding of his hesitance and didn’t push it further. Though you couldn’t help the disappointment that flooded your features either.

The look of mild discontent on your face didn’t sit well with him, his conscious already conquered by guilt. As his green irises descended onto your pregnant belly, something in him snapped.

He wanted to provide his unborn son with a normal childhood, well as normal as someone like him could. And he wouldn’t be able to do that if he kept barring his family from enjoying the simple delicacies of life in fear of getting them hurt. He was a hero, for god’s sake! The arrival of a new addition in his tight-knit family only meant that he’d have to work harder to forge the perfect world for them, for his son.

His habit of mumbling his thoughts had you fully aware of the dilemma going on in his head, and you knew if you didn’t stop him now nothing else would. His forehead was flicked by dainty, soft fingers, snapping him out of his trance, “It’s fine, ‘Zuku, don’t worry about it.” too late, he’d already made up his mind.

Now with his previous dread thrown out the window, he grabbed your hands and hopped off the couch where he’d been previously watching some All Might docuseries, a determined look in his wide verdant eyes.

You spent a good hour practicing the moves, Deku was holding up just fine, the dance classes he’d taken with Mina during the Cultural Festival doing a good number on him. With enough effort and unrelenting obstinacy, he’d mastered the routine in record time. Now with the camera set up, it was time to preform.The whole dance, a gentle twinkle lit up his face, he truly couldn’t be more content watching you dance your heart out without a care. 

The clip was posted, and you two were off to prepare dinner, ignorant to the fucking storm of notifications blowing his phone up. 

Now hear me out; Deku absolutely fanboys over All Might in interviews or in public. His fans had already noticed the striking similarities between their quirks and they were well aware of his love of the retired Pro, so he was dubbed “All Might Jr.” His heart almost went into cardiac arrest when he saw #SmallMight trending on Twitter. Poor boy had just finished washing the dishes, he went to check his phone only for all colour to leave his face before he was red as a damn tomato.

You peered over his shoulder to see what had gotten him so flustered only to bring your fist to your mouth in a fruitless attempt at silencing your fit of giggles.

Now as blissful as it was to have a combination of his fans and colleagues (who had already known about the pregnancy) congratulating him, he knew it wouldn’t take long for the media to scrutinise his decision, bringing unwanted discourse into his personal life. But he was more than ready for that, after all, he had vowed to himself that he would protect you and his child, whether from villains or from mainstream media, he would let you both live your lives without any inhibitions.

Bakugo Katsuki  

Katsuki flat out refused when you initially asked him. Which was to be expected. Katsuki is private person when it comes to personal matters, you literally had to beg him to tell your friends about the pregnancy (honestly you were about ready to pull up a PowerPoint presentation on why Friends Matter and They Deserve to Know Important News™) 

The rejection didn’t stop you from nagging him about it though. 

He was in a similar situation to Deku, being the number two Pro-hero and the symbol of victory shined a light on him, for better or worse, he didn’t want to expose you and his daughter to the dark facets of his career. That and he did think it was stupid. He didn’t understand the appeal of sharing something so special with the general public, it was your private lives dammit! 

“Why do you wanna do it so bad?” it was a valid question, though phrased with overbearing aggression, he was getting fed up with your persistence. He immediately dialed down his abrasiveness when you flinched, your gaze descending to the floor, your hormones making you more susceptible to his harsh mannerisms.

“I just thought it would be cute to do...” Your voice trailed off, and his mind berated him as he watched your bottom lip quiver. He just couldn’t resist you, could he?

Eventually, he gave in, but he made it a point to spend as little time as humanly possible on the dance. Which was honestly very easy for him, the guy is a natural at almost everything, fucking figures he can dance. It made you a bit jealous how good he effortlessly was.

Bakugo did nothing half-assed, this was no exception. As the routine progressed, he loosened up more, almost enjoying the exercise, wouldn’t admit it though, he’s very adamant about making this seem like a chore even though he relished in that bright smile of yours. Tsundere headass.

The recording went by without a hitch, Katsuki putting his all into the choreography and slipping you a few gentle caresses here and there. Overall, the cheeky grin on your face made it worth the trouble.

He spurned posting the video on his account, so it ended up being posted on yours, you had a decent following and in minutes the #MiniSplosion was trending. 

Even he couldn’t deny the wave of pride that puffed up his chest, reading the influx of comments bleeding in. He loved showing you off, but his position made it damn near impossible to do that. He wanted to protect you, he figured after this he’d just have to work harder to keep his family safe.

You totally teased him about being a softie on the inside, but you didn’t push it too much, not wanting to tarnish the mood. He’d reply back with some empty remark but the soft tug at his lips, the tenderness in his stare and absence of his usual frown betrayed him, god he was such a sap for you. Pulling you in for an abnormally sweet peck, vastly different from his usual ferocious, passion filled kisses, he flicked your forehead and muttered, “You happy now?”

The surmounting adoration in his heart partially scared him, he couldn’t believe he fell that hard for someone. Yet he wouldn’t have it any other way, he couldn’t even imagine the idea of being without you, without his daughter. He was lucky to land himself such a strong, patient and kind partner, one that would stick it out with him through the end, and now he was undoubtedly going to flaunt it.

@Ground_Zero: My babygirls <3

...

Let’s just say it didn’t take long for #SoftGroundZero to go viral too.

[hollenka99]

Unus Annus - November

354. Accepting the Truth, 6:11, 2.8M (Nov 1st) - While sitting by the pool, Mark and Ethan announce that a livestream will happen on the 13th so that the audience can join them in reminiscing over the past year and watching the channel be deleted live.

355. The Unus Annus Last Supper, 26:58, 2.6M (Nov 2nd) - Amy creates a 7 course meal for Mark and Ethan based on various past videos. This includes eggnog with bug biscuits, them having 3 minutes to eat a raw onion and edible items of a mature nature.

356. Being Brutally Honest with Each Other, 26:14, 2.2M (Nov 3rd) - Mark and Ethan reflect on how well they have worked together during the course of the channel’s run. Some things that were revealed consisted of them having to re-evaluate their communication after the wall punch, Mark committing to bits even if they start going a little far and how Ethan could build his acting skills. There is a heartfelt moment where Ethan expresses how grateful he is to have Mark as a friend and someone to learn off of, which ends in tears.

357. Recreating Every Single Unus Annus Video, 45:11, 3.2M (Nov 4th) - Amy reads out the title of videos in chronological order while Mark and Ethan do something quick to re-enact that video. Alexa misinterprets a command, some episode segments are just them wondering who came up with the titles and Amy gets confused by a few titles that state she shouldn’t know about them.

358. All Our Video Ideas That Never Happened, 25:13, 1.8M (Nov 5th) - They discuss the videos that never were, including potential collabs, things the pandemic prevented from happening and ideas that were best left not attempted. 

359. Who’s Cutting Onions In Here???, 22:24, 2M (Nov 6th) - The two of them spend the entire video cutting onions and talking about the channel. They discuss their expectations when they started the channel, how they were affected by the deaths of family members and how they would like to die.

360. The 1st Annual Unus Annus Roast, 16:41, 1.7M (Nov 7th) - On Twitter, they invited the viewers to send in their roasts. They just laugh at most of them but a few they roast the poster back. One of the cameras produced corrupted footage so they had to lipsync at times. 

361. God’s Fitness Test, 22:58, 1.9M (Nov 8th) - Along with their personal trainers, they form two teams which consist of Mark and Alex vs Ethan and Andre. They do push ups where you have to have all four limbs airborne during part of it, a burpee hybrid, a race where Mark and Ethan carry their trainers on their backs, weightlifting with squats and a sprinting challenge. 

362. Saying Goodbye to All Our Guests, 39:44, 2.2M (Nov 9th) - Mark and Ethan call up some of the people they’ve worked with in videos over the past year to thank them. Upon learning The Basement LA (where they did the escape room in December) was in financial trouble due to the pandemic, they offer to donate the ad revenue from the escape room video to help them out.

363. Everything’s Legal If You’re Dead, 24:50, 2.2M (Nov 10th) - Mark and Ethan attempt to make breakfast with sex toys again. However, this time they steal the products they got from the shop and Mark’s lawyer Ryan tries to discourage them from their plans of insurance fraud.

364. 7 Minutes in Heaven | 7 Minutes in Hell, 12:41, 1.9M (Nov 11th) - In new inflatable saunas, they are sent to Heaven and Hell with items previously featured in past videos. Ethan goes to Heaven where he receives the scent of essential oils, kiwis, a cupping session using a mouth instead of the cups and wax on his face. Mark, meanwhile, is subjected to Hell where the aromatherapy is of the onion variety, his mouth is filled with hot dogs and the straw his dogs may have used as a toilet is laid at his feet.

365. The Unus Annus Annual Sleepover, 17:17, 2.3M (Nov 12th) - Ethan goes to Mark’s home to spend the night. They shoot cans while the other hides behind the targets, make popcorn as well as friendship bracelets and play truth or dare. Ethan decorates his bracelet for Mark with 'My Pal Annus' while Mark puts 'EEF' inbetween Takis that had been in his mouth. Towards the end, the two of them share a glass of champagne before settling down for the night. At various points, the signature ticking sound is heard.

366. Goodbye., 12:00:00, 1M (Nov 13th - Nov 14th) - This is the farewell livestream. The two of them sit with a television that displays the timer inbetween them. Throughout the 12 hours, they show the editors’ highlight reels, watch and comment on a few videos, look through fanart and memes as well as welcome guests. When there’s around 3 hours to go, Ethan gets 00:00:00 tattooed on his left arm by DanielleSkyeee. They promise that if the stream receives 1 million likes, they will reveal the inside of their coffin and possibly get inside. With less than an hour to go, this does indeed happen, with the fake eulogies making them emotional and the coffin is dubbed the ‘Cry Box’. As the hours become not only minutes but seconds, Mark, Ethan and Amy gather around the laptop so they can press the delete button together. The clock finally reaches 00:00:00, leaving the audience with a black screen as well as a channel that no longer exists.

1. Unus Annus, 1:52, 10M (Nov 15th) - Introductory video explaining the premise of the channel.

2. Cooking with Sex Toys, 12:42, 4.6M (Nov 15th) - The guys buy a bunch of sex toys and use them to make some bacon, eggs and pancakes. Towards the end, someone spots Mark being fed while wearing a gag.

3. Purging Our Sins with a Neti Pot, 11:18, 4.8M (Nov 16th) - They clear their noses with Neti Pots, essentially flooding it and triggering a drowning sensation. Towards the end, the spiral screen appears where Mark and Ethan thank the audience for their initial reaction to the channel, which lead to the intro video becoming #1 on trending. They announce that if the channel reaches 1 million subscribers within a week, a viewer who helped spread the word will be hand delivered the button. Otherwise, Mark will have his nipples pierced.

4. Hot Dog'd To Death, 11:18, 3.3M (Nov 17th) - They attempt to eat 60 hot dogs in 10 minutes. Ethan struggles to work out how long 360 seconds is. The are certain Chica could beat Joey Chestnut's record of 71 any day.

5. Making Our Own Sensory Deprivation Tank, 13:44, 2.7M (Nov 18th) - They filled a pool with salts, blindfold themselves and put headphones on. To mess around, they pretend to try drown each other.

6. The Good Kind of Cupping, 11:59, 2.7M (Nov 19th) - They attempt cup stacking. Mark is better at it than Ethan. The two of them end up trying to walk on all fours while wearing the cups like some sort of cryptid. This is also where they announce the winner of the 1M play button (Kingkasuma 2.0). The next challenge is also announced, get it to 2M subs within a week so a viewer has the chance to meet Mark and Ethan while appearing in a video or Ethan will destroy the Barrel with a bat.

7. The Bad Kind of Cupping, 13:36, 8.8M (Nov 20th) - Mark and Ethan place suction cups on each other. At one point, Ethan is unable to detach a cup and gets very stressed about it.

8. The Worst Kind of Cupping, 10:17, 3.1M (Nov 21st) - They react to Two Girls, One Cup before trying to see if they can find out where the girls are now. This is Mark’s first time watching it and he does not have a good time.

9. Ethan Will Be Kicked in the Balls, 7:30, 4.2M (Nov 22nd) - They plan to use those inflatable balls that you can run around in. Ethan struggles to inflate his so he goes to a shop to ask they can help him with a pump. The staff are nice and chuck it to him via a window. He reaches his car, only to realise he can't fit it in without deflating it a little. Ethan does indeed get kicked in the balls at the end.

10. Doing Each Other's Makeup in the Dark, 12:08, 2.2M (Nov 23rd) - Mark and Ethan blindly apply makeup to one another. There is a risk of blackface when Mark gets into the bronzer but Amy is able to warn him to be careful. Ethan uses blush for its intended purpose and as lipstick. When they look at themselves in a mirror, he compares himself to the little girl wearing makeup while in a carseat. You can tell Amy is the one editing due to her written comments.

11. Baby Hands Operation, 8:29, 2.7M (Nov 24th) - Mark and Ethan assemble and then play Operation while wearing baby hands. When Calamity Pete's buzzing annoys them, they begin waterboarding him and are only able to remove the foreign object after hitting him hard enough to accidentally project the piece. This is where the 'Oh My Fucking God' meme originates.

12. Mark and Ethan Summon a Ghost, 18:02, 4M (Nov 25th) - This is framed as a kind of found footage documentary. While at Ethan’s home, they form a pentagram out of candles before playing Bloody Mary and Charlie Charlie. It ends with them getting attacked by a ghost.

13. 2 Truths and 1 Lie -- Waxing Edition, 16:49, 4.5M (Nov 26th) - They play 2 truths and a lie where getting it wrong means a body part gets waxed. The body part is determined by a spinning randomiser wheel. Korea is mentioned during both times the spinner lands on pubic hair.

14. Poopsie Sparkly Critters (a slime surprise...), 12:24, 4.3M (Nov 27th) - Mark and Ethan buy Poopsie Sparkly Critters, a toy that will eject slime from either their butt (poop) or mouth (spit). They play around with the toys, adding glitter to the slime as instructed. This is the first time ‘Martha Maywho’ (Martha May Whovier from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas) is mentioned.

15. Play-Doh Thanksgiving, 10:35, 2.2M (Nov 28th) - They create a thanksgiving meal with only Play-Doh. A tray full of ‘food’ that are the appropriate colours is created, including a tiny live turkey made by Ethan. A mega turkey is also made using a conglomerate of the remaining Play-Doh. Mark and Ethan then sample their creation.

16. Helium Therapy, 14:55, 3.3M (Nov 29th) - The two of them inhale helium then discuss various topics, including how they’d kill each other, childhood misadventures and their romantic pursuits involving an abundance of Abigails (plus a Sarah).

17. Drawing Memes from Memory, 10:53, 2.6M (Nov 30th) - With drawing pads and scented coloured markers, Mark and Ethan attempt to draw old memes with Amy telling them their prompts.The ‘This is fine’ dog, dat boi, Rebecca Black, dancing baby, the Numa Numa guy, dikbutt, condescending Willy Wonka and trollface all make an appearence. They spend nearly as much time sniffing the markers as they do drawing.

[thestupidhelmet]

What would you say are the core personalities of the six? I don't know if you've made a meta about this already since I'm fairly new here. Love your blog!

Thank you! 😊

I’ve written a few metas on the characters’ personalities or characterizations. But I’ll write up what I interpret their consistent core characterizations to be. First, a preamble.

Unfortunately, That ‘70s Show’s writers had a tendency to forget, ignore, or outright change the characters’ core characterizations, too often introducing new elements -- to serve plot -- that conflict with earlier established personality traits confirmed and reconfirmed by many episodes that followed. This is different than character development, which is grounded often in incremental changes over several / many episodes or even seasons. 

Most of these revisions of the characters’ core personalities are negative. Only one I can think of is positive: Hyde’s in “Prom Night” (1x19). The core of his character gets a complete overhaul once his role as Eric’s villainous foil and rival for Donna’s affection is over.

Because of the show’s inconsistent writing, one can pick and choose which consistently depicted attributes are the truly canon parts of a character’s personality. Later in the series, these consistently depicted attributes often conflict. When I write fanfic and @those70scomics​, I depicts the characters according to what I believe are their core personalities. Other people can reasonably view their core personalities differently. 

Now to answer your question.

Fez

He’s insecure about fitting in with his group of friends and among Americans in general. This insecurity sometimes manifests as neediness with friends and girlfriends alike.

He’s loyal to his friends and generally caring. He doesn’t like hurting their feelings. He’s in touch with his emotions and sensitive, which means he can be hurt rather easily by his friends’ or others’ thoughtless remarks toward him -- or hurt by what he misinterprets as an insult (e.g., Hyde telling Fez he needs to act aloof to attract women, and Fez believing Hyde is calling him “a loof,” which Fez apparently thinks is a put-down).

He’s not defenseless, however. He’s got a quick wit and comes back with cutting remarks of his own or simply cuts off his friends with his catchphrase and its varieties (i.e. “Good day. ... I said good day!”)

He’s passionate, but this passion variously paired with his insecurity, neediness, and sensitivity can cloud his judgement, which causes him to go too far in many areas: dirty jokes, masturbation, pursuit of unavailable girls, eating candy, etc. 

He suffers from Nice Guy syndrome with Jackie during seasons 2 and 3. This means he has a sense of entitlement to Jackie’s romantic and sexual affection, and his respectful treatment of her is predicated on the expectation of romantic and sexual reward. Once he realizes that she’ll never reciprocate his romantic feelings, his respectful treatment of her diminishes greatly. 

In season one, he’s depicted as insightful to other people’s feelings and motivations. In seasons 1-4, he’s also depicted as romantic and a romantic. He’s a serial monogamist, but he suffers somewhat from toxic masculinity (e.g., calling Jackie little girl when he believes she’s overstepped her bounds) and sexism (e.g., often calling girls whores; once this insult is prompted by a girl who does not put out sexually, which is the opposite of the meaning of whore). With Rhonda, though, this toxic masculinity and sexism seem not to be evident.

He longs for intimacy, whether platonic (men) or romantic (women). See this meta about how the show writes Fez and Kelso’s relationship as near-romantic in later seasons while also (re)affirming Fez and Kelso’s canonical straightness to keep T7S’s universe a heteronormative one.

Fez is obsessed with losing his virginity, but for the first four seasons of the show, the depiction of this obsession falls in line with that of many teenage boys his age. It’s not out of the ordinary. Eric is shown to have the same obsession until he and Donna finally have sex. Further, Fez’s obsession is not so all-encompassing that he can’t put it aside for love. He does so for his love of Rhonda -- until “Everybody Loves Casey” (4x26), where the best parts of his core characterization are destroyed. See my meta The Deterioration of Fez’s Character for details.

My Take: I prefer to write the insightful, loyal Fez who sometimes doesn’t know how far to push a joke. He can be insecure, but he’s also got a strong moral center and sense of what’s right and wrong -- or develops this sense more thoroughly during a given story. He’s flawed but very capable of growing and changing due to his ability to examine his own behavior and love for his friends.

Kelso

In season one, Kelso is a math and tech prodigy who has little common sense and or will power. He’s also loyal to Eric and Hyde and clearly loves them, but his impulsivity and addiction to sexual pleasure drive him to act thoughtlessly. He displays a sense of entitlement but not a pathological one. He’s capable of apologizing for his thoughtless and entitled behavior.  See this meta about ���Ski Trip” (1x13) for an in depth analysis of Kelso’s behavior during that episode.

After season 1, his math and technology knowledge is gonet. His selfishness and sense of entitlement overshadow his loyalty to anyone (or anything) other than fulfilling  his own needs and desires. His lack of common sense becomes cartoonish. He acts maliciously when he feels slighted, which happens when he doesn’t get what he believes he’s entitled to. He relentlessly pesters Jackie verbally and physically for sex when she just wants to sleep. He’s pathologically narcissistic, vain, and dishonest.

During the end of season 3 and beginning of season 4, however, he begins to grow and change. He experiences and express remorse toward Jackie for treating her so badly -- without any expectation of return. His selfishness fades significantly, as does his lying, but neither attribute disappears completely. He’s capable of putting his own wants and desires aside for Jackie’s, but she sometimes has to assert herself more than once for him to do so.

During the end of season 4, unfortunately, he not only reverts back to type, he also becomes worse. He rescinds his remorse and gives Jackie the responsibility for his cheating. He speaks misogynistically about women and her, and is just generally awful. See my metas Jackie Kissing Todd “the Cheese Guy” and Kelso’s Reaction and False Equivalency: Kelso’s “Most Romantic Gesture” Toward Jackie for further analysis.

In season 5, Kelso reaches the peak of his self-entitled narcissism, selfishness, hypocrisy, and possessiveness over Jackie. He interprets Jackie dating Hyde as an act of betrayal and an attack on his pride and self-esteem. He seeks out revenge on both of them, even while trying to “win Jackie back” with the same kind of maliciousness he shows Jackie in season 2 when she doesn’t forgive his cheating within a week of her discovering it. 

Throughout the series, he makes unwanted sexual advances toward Donna. He tries to grope her breast repeatedly while she sleeps. He tries to sneak a glimpse of her breasts while she changes, and she’s so sick of his whining that she gives into what he wants (in “Class Picture” [4x20]). The writers intended this scene to be funny, but it’s actually horrific and parallels Jackie’s complaints about Kelso pawing at her and whining relentlessly for sex that she gives in so she can sleep.

He makes these numerous sexual advances on Donna when she’s in a relationship with Eric and when she and Eric are broken up. Yet he when he and Jackie are no longer together, he acts like Hyde has committed a crime against him for being in a consensual relationship with Jackie.

Without Ashton’s comedic timing and likability, Kelso would be unbearable to watch during seasons 1-5. Kelso is funny only because of Ashton’s performance.

But in season 6, Kelso gets another chance at a true character growth arc. He fights his selfish, cowardly tendencies to have a place in Brooke’s life and their child’s (whom hasn’t been born yet). He works hard to prove his ability to be a good father. and himself worthy of Brooke’s love. Even more, he makes an act of utter unselfishness and sacrifice by letting Brooke and their baby go  -- to live Chicago with Brooke’s mom -- because that’s what’s best for them, not him.

That being said, he still demonstrates an amount of selfishness toward his friends.

Season 7 again drops him back to status quo -- almost. Brooke is gone. He’s barely involved in his child’s life. He dates Hyde’s newfound sister, in part to burn Hyde. But at least he treats Angie with respect and is faithful to her, as far as we’re shown. So that part of his growth from season 6 stuck.

Throughout all the seasons, he’s shown to have a vast imagination. He fancies himself an inventor or an astronaut. He comes up with some wild -- and some might say insane -- ideas. He’s creative despite not being very skilled.

My Take: I generally write Kelso as a selfish, self-entitled narcissist because of when my T7S fics take place in the series. I also use his lack of common sense as comic relief. But I prefer the Kelso capable of growth and change, the one who is willing to put his own needs and desires aside for the benefit of other people. This latter characterization development has continued in @those70scomics​, and I’ve given him major growth arcs in my stories Reflections Through the Glass, Beneath a Shattered Sky, and Those Who Play with Demons (which I have yet to finish writing).

Eric

Eric has a compassionate heart. He cares about his family, his friends, and people in general. But he also suffers deep insecurities about his masculinity thanks to Red’s treatment of him. Eric is more in touch with his emotions, like his mother, and Red has trouble relating to him. Red also worries Eric might be too emotionally vulnerable to survive the real world, which is why he’s so hard on him (see “Hunting” [2x13]).

Because of modeling his dad gives him on masculinity, the clear messages that Eric isn’t masculine enough, and what he absorbs from observing how society expects men to behave, he suffers from bouts of chauvinism. Donna.is regularly the recipient of Eric’s insecurities about his manliness. He often feels threatened by her self-confidence, athletic ability, intelligence, etc. -- because she’s a woman and his best friend / girlfriend / fiancée. He falsely believes her strengths highlight his weaknesses as a man.

But he’s also patient and unselfish with Donna, putting aside his own sexual desires for her need to go slowly or for celibacy (in season 6). He’s supportive of her and all his family and friends, including Laurie and Jackie -- both of whom he has an antagonistic relationship with. He’s very loyal to his friends.

Eric uses sarcasm and his quick wit as defense mechanisms. Some might say he’s a little stunted in his growth due to his continued enjoyment of playing with action figures. He indulges at times in his mom’s infantilizing of him while also trying to assert his adulthood.

He has a specific vision for his future: marrying Donna and having a family with her. This vision, however, does not include a career. He doesn’t seem to be passionate about much else besides his relationship with Donna (and having sex with her) and Star Wars. This is a failing of the writers. Eric’s storylines are so Donna-focused that the show gives little space for what else he might be passionate about.

Eric is very much capable of recognizing, owning, and learning from his mistakes. He can be a total ass, but he eventually realizes his behavior and makes correction.

Donna

Donna is confident, athletic, intelligent, and a staunch defender of gender equality (when written consistently). She’s loyal to her friends. She often puts aside her own pride to protect Eric’s self-esteem. She gets angry at him almost only when he’s earned it. See In Defense of Donna (an essay in eight parts) for an in depth analysis on her relationship with Eric.

When she’s in severe emotional pain, she becomes self-destructive. Losing her relationship to Eric at the end of season 3 and her mom moving to California sends her into downward spiral. Earlier, we see this self-destructive trait in “Eric Gets Suspended” (2x09) when her parents pay little attention to her due to their obsession with the latest fads. 

Her parents’ lack of boundaries with her -- exposing her to their marital troubles and making her a pawn in them, as well as not hiding their sexcapades from her -- create a strong sense of boundaries within her.

The state of her parents’ relationship often influences her confidence in her relationship with Eric. She’s afraid sex will destroy her relationship with Eric; but once her parents renew their wedding vows, she has faith enough that romantic relationships can last that she finally feels safe enough to have sex.

She strongly values her independence. She doesn’t want her life and prospects dictated or limited by her romantic relationship with Eric. She witnesses how her dad’s controlling chauvinism stifles her mom’s own independence and dreams for herself, and she refuses to let Eric’s insecurity and chauvinism do that to her.

She’s passionate about writing, both journalistic and fiction, as well as music. She’s playful and forgiving. She doesn’t fit the gender norms of the 1970s. She’s as comfortable playing basketball with the guys as she is decorating a room or gymnasium for an event. She has a mixture of femininity and masculinity, which only Jackie seems to insult her about.

Jackie

At her core, Jackie is a compassionate, generous, and insightful person. She gives far more gifts to Kelso during their relationship than he does her -- despite her always stating how much she wants presents. She gives Donna lots of advice and support during Donna and Eric’s transition from friends to lovers. She continues to give Donna advice and support throughout the series about her love life.

But Jackie can also be very controlling, insulting, and selfish. She’s quite vain, but she’s also insecure about all she acts secure about. See Does Jackie Become Less Insecure about Her Physical Appearance when She Dates Hyde? If So, Why? 

Jackie has abandonment issues because of her parents. Her father isn’t home a lot and often shows his love for her through presents. The latter is why she wants / expects to get gifts from her boyfriend(s). She develops a marriage obsession out of wanting a guarantee she won’t be abandoned by her romantic partner, despite that marriage doesn’t actually guarantee this.

She also has a tendency toward self-delusion. She so needs Kelso to be whom she wants him to be that she goes into denial about his infidelity and all the negative qualities of his I described above. Eventually that delusion is broken, only to be replaced by delusions about Hyde. She transfers her feelings of (relationship-)safety from Kelso to Hyde.

Only when Kelso breaks her heart for the final time at the end of season 4 does she break out of this delusion cycle. She fantasizes about what her future with Hyde might be like, but that isn’t the same as deluding herself. Plus, Hyde consistently disabuses her of these unrealistic fantasies and offers her a much healthier and happier potential reality.

Once she’s with Hyde in season 5, she begins growing and changing significantly. Instead of complaining of her suffering as she does, for instance, during her S2-S3 break-up with Kelso, she hides the fact her mom has completely abandoned her after her dad goes to prison. She tells no one her mom hasn’t come home from Mexico.

This is not one of the healthier changes she makes in season 5, but fantasizing away her pain no longer works as a defense mechanism. Instead, she believes she has to face her struggles alone. Fortunately, Hyde discovers the truth and gives her a safe place and, in a very real way, becomes a literal safe place for her himself. (The writers screwed this up for the sake of a season-ending cliffhanger, but that’s beyond the scope of this meta.)

Jackie can be stubborn and determined. She wants what’s best for the people she loves, especially Hyde. She’s extremely forgiving. She doesn’t trust her ability to take care of herself, but she learns that she can (through getting a job, Hyde’s encouragement, her public access TV show, etc.)

She’s a complex character. When people don’t look beyond her surface, they find her easily dismissible. The writers too often wrote her this way during the series. But they also added many layers to her, as I’ve described in this meta.

Hyde

See the following metas I wrote about him:

Hyde’s Core Characterization Steven Hyde: Organic Character Development Steven Hyde: Inconsistent Characterization Hyde’s Character Shift from Season 4 to Season 5 Why Hyde Closes Himself Off More Emotionally in Season 5 Pathological Passive-Aggressiveness: A New Personality Trait Added to Hyde’s Character in Season 5 Hyde’s Potential Career

[oceanera12]

Knight Fall

So... this AU popped into my head because of a Descendants 3 Song. No, I am not joking and no, I will not apologize because I cannot make animatics.

We need to establish a few things: 

First: the world this happens in is going to be very similar to Young Justice with a few changes. Ras and his loyal followers have been kicked out of the League and are keeping a low profile. Just kind of ignore most of the main plot of Season 3 minus Nightwing finding out about their apparent loss of control/banishment.

Second: Jason has been “dead” for about three years. Two and a half of those years have been spent with the League (Resurrection stuff and such has happened and he does suffer from a bit of memory loss).

Third: Damian is seven years old. He’s a brat, he is trained, and he and Hood have the “best” relationship out of the Al Gaul bunch because Hood doesn’t force him to train 24/7 or punish him for failing. So Talia is not a good Mom in this story.

The characters of this story are either on Team Bats or Team Al Ghul (at least at the beginning).

Team Bats consists of Batman/Bruce Wayne, Nightwing/Dick Grayson, Robin/Tim Drake, Agent A/Alfred Pennyworth, Spoiler/Stephanie Brown, and Oracle/Barbara Gordon.

Team Al Gaul consists of Ras Al Ghul, Talia Al Gaul, Ubu, Senseii, Red Hood/Jason Todd, and Damian Wayne-Al Ghul.

With all of that out of the way, let’s begin:

Starts in Gotham with the emergence of the Court of Owls. The Court wants Dick Grayson as their Talon and they are not happy that he’s slipped a bit out of their reach.

They get rumors about the Al Ghul’s falling out of favor/losing control of the League and are interested in recruiting the displaced group.

Yeah, the Al Ghul’s don’t appreciate that very much and send back the head of their messenger as a warning. Of course, the Court isn’t happy about that and find out about Damian.

Their thought process consists of basically “Well, we lost our previous Talon. This one is younger and easier to change. Let’s take him.”

Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem for the Al Ghul’s. But it is only the small group of Assassins vs Undead Army of Talons that get killed, get their bodies picked up, revived, then turned back on the Al Ghul’s.

So very long story short, they flea very reluctantly to the only person who will be able to help: Aka CALLING ON THE BAT.

Red Hood has to wear his mask at all times and is not allowed to speak. Similar situation for Damian, but he’s just in a cute little ninja costume with only his eyes showing. Neither Ras or Talia mentions that Damian is related to Bruce and make an excuse of adopting him as a servant/assassin (which Damian is a bit confused and annoyed about but he is not going to question his Mother or Grandfather). 

Bruce is not happy about the situation but the Court has become frustrated because they are trying to kidnap Dick now so he reluctantly agrees to a team-up with the insane assassins.

Since I do not want to plan out every little plot detail, I’m just gonna hit the highlights

Bruce and Ras argue constantly on how to deal with the Court. Bruce wants to take out the Talons (they are already dead so he’s fine with chopping them to pieces) and arrest the leaders, but Ras want to find the actually living members and kill every last one of them. At the same time, the two of them work together on planning the attack on the Court’s headquarters.

Talia just kind of chills in the background. Sometimes she trains Damian, sometimes she helps her father and Bruce with planning the attack, and sometimes she just sits and watches.

Ubu and Sensi train Damian. They are also sent out every once in a while to spy on the Court. None of the Bats interact with either of them for longer then necessary and vice versa.

Hood does not have all of his memories at this point but he really does not like looking at the “memorial case” for what appears to have been the previous Robin. Most of his days consist of people watching because these people are really familiar and why the heck did he know “Agent A” was someone named Alfie? He also does not like the current Robin for no particular reason. ... The Robin grows on him. Very slowly.

Alfred has also decided he likes the Red Hood for no particular reason. He does not understand why the man does not take off his mask, but Hood is more polite to the butler then the rest of the Assassin’s combined. And he doesn’t even speak! He has also decided the smallest assassin with the Al Ghul’s is trouble, but not evil. He insists on treating the boy’s wounds after his “training” (which all of the Bats have spoken about the cruelty of it but there is not much they can do at the moment). Hood helps him most days patch up the young master.

Damian wants to hate the Bats (Grandfather and Mother both warned him not to grow attached to them as they are their enemies-- respected enemies, but enemies. This situation is an exception). He really does. But there is something about them that he is just drawn to. Grayson is a respectable fighter who had decided to teach him the basics of gymnastics. Drake had excellent skills in deducing and technology, offering to upgrade Damian’s arsenal with a few... non-lethal options (the batarangs were too good to say no to, but Damian made sure to hide them from his Mother and Grandfather). Brown was a bit weak, but what she lacked in skill she made up for in determination. Miss Gordon was one of the best Intelligence officers Damian had seen. Pennyworth is an excellent servant that the others treated with the same respect as everyone else. That was a new concept. And then there was Batman. Something about Batman made Damian feel... safe, was the best word for it.

Tim decides he is going to befriend the tiny assassin. Don’t ask him why, he couldn’t tell you. (It might have had something to do with the well hidden looks the tiny assassin shot at Thalia and Ras. It was a look of wanting praise and wanting to please. The Al Ghul’s either hadn’t noticed or ignored it. Either way, Tim understood that situation more than he would care to admit). So Tim and the tiny assassin are on “friendly terms” is the best way to describe it. He also talks a lot to the Red Hood guy. Hood never responds but he also hasn’t pulled a gun on him so he takes that as a good sign.

Stephanie and Barbra hang together and keep an eye on all the assassin’s to make sure no one dies. They also spy on the Court whenever Ubu and Senseii are not. That’s really about it.

Very, very long story short, everyone goes and attacks the Court. They manage to take down most of the Talon’s and Ras goes to kill the leaders and Bruce tries to stop him.

Fragile alliance falls apart and it’s now a free-for-all with the Bats vs. the Al Ghuls vs. The Court. Cheers.

At some point Jason loses his mask which cause a completely different kind of “falling apart” and Hood is really confused because “Who’s Jason?”

The Court escapes, Al Ghul’s leave (with Jason), and the Bats are ticked/sad/confused/angry. Lots of emotions.

Jason had been getting more of his memories back while with the Bats. He gets more of them back over the course of the next few months and while he is angry that Bruce replaced him, he also knows that Damian was MUCH happier with them.

So when the Court comes for Damian again, Jason snatches the kid up in the confusion and takes him back to Gotham because I NEED PROTECTIVE BIG BROTHER JASON. Damian hesitantly goes with Hood but is not as resistant to the idea as he might have been a few weeks back (his mother is NOT a good mother, kay?)

Ras get’s ticked at the world, kills most of the Court members because he thinks Damian got snatched by them (and maybe Hood?). Later finds out Jason was the one to take Damian and tries to kill him, but Damian won’t have that, no siree.

Damian and Jason end up gaining their freedom through combat and head off to Gotham. They get there just before Batman and Co. launch a full blown rescue mission to get Jason back so there’s some saved resources, I suppose.

Also: “Bruce, meet Damian. He’s Talia and your demon spawn.” “... what?” “My father is Batman???”

[mysterious-prophetess]

Review: Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarves

It’s finally out in my region so I was finally able to get my hands on it to watch without risking my computer.

Not that I would resort to such....less-than-legal means... <.<

Anyway, I’m glad I did buy it officially. It was every bit as cute as I thought it would be after I saw the new round of trailers and comments by others on tumblr. 

I’ll give my spoiler free thoughts now and go into more details under a read more.

So first, I have to compliment the animation. It is so beautiful. The characters all looked great and none of them looked uncanny at all. My favorite character design of the humans was Snow sans shoes, but Merlin in his normal form is a close second. It’s their eyes. 

My favorite non-human character design was the magic mirror. 

The magic effects were also nicely done.

The plot’s pacing was decent. There were times where it almost felt like they had built in commercial breaks for an eventual network airing from how some parts would cut to black and start a new scene. It wasn’t often and it didn’t really detract from the film. 

The characters were all consistent and Snow White/Red Shoes was down right relatable for me. Merlin and the other six Princes were fun and played off one another, though the trio of Pino Noki Kio almost felt like they didn’t need to be three characters since they never acted independent of one another. Whereas Jack, Hans, Arthur, and Merlin all had their own distinct personalities.

Even the Evil Queen had some good moments. 

Prince Average felt like an after thought.

The moral of the story, while done before and nearly to death, was given a fresh spin in this film. 

Over all this film is charming and the marketing team that screwed them over with the fat-shaming like ad campaign should never be hired by these guys ever again. There is no fat shaming in this film directed at Snow White/Red Shoes. 

The lesson is instead a good one. 

I heartily recommend people watch this movie. There are some semi-Shrek like elements on occasion (like out of place pop culture references) but overall the film has its own identity. 

Another nitpick aside from the weird commercial breaks that kept seeming to happen and that’s the over use of the movie’s main pop song. I liked it the first time but after a few other reuses it started to get a little stale. 

Otherwise I loved the music of the film. 

Snow White’s journey was one that I loved. She had one mission and one mission only: find her father. In fact her desire to be herself contradicted the shoes magic. She was perfectly happy as her normal self and not the magic enhanced version the shoes transformed her into. That’s a powerful message to send to girls who aren’t skinny or traditionally pretty. Though, Snow White is down right adorable as her true self.

I also liked that the perfectly pretty form wasn’t something Snow White necessarily liked but was willing to use to her advantage to help find her father. I also liked that it had drawbacks as Snow White in her normal state was actually a physically strong woman but as a dainty pretty girl all that strength she had and liked having was gone. Furthermore, the movie showed that Snow White was decently athletic as her real self, which was a refreshing take for a heavier character. Large doesn’t equal flabby, weak, or out-of-shape. 

Snow White’s struggles with taking off the magical shoes were reflective of the times where she got insecure about herself. Despite loving who she was, she did sometimes accept the pretty dainty form because of how much nicer people were. 

The Magic Mirror was surprised she could even take them off because it meant there was something she wanted more than being pretty. The first time, at Risky Rock in the Fearsome Seven’s house, it was her desire to be herself. In the alleyway, it was a desire to escape the goons. In the river it was her desire to save Merlin. Yet, whenever she wanted to take them off other times, things had happened to make her hesitate on giving up the conventionally pretty form that had made it so others would help her.

As someone who is not conventionally pretty and definitely not skinny, I really empathized with Snow White about this. 

On no occasion was Snow’s true self ever treated like a joke. There was the scene after she’d taken the shoes off where guards were harassing her where it almost looked like Merlin and Arthur would ignore her peril because she wasn’t her Red Shoes form, but Merlin came back and helped her.  He was even kind of nice to her. 

Never even when Merlin finds out about the shoes versus her real form does he call her ugly or make comments about her weight despite being still kind of fighting his own ego while learning the lesson at this point. 

Speaking of Merlin (and the others of the F7). 

Merlin being the main male protagonist does get the most screen time. Arthur get the second most. Then Hans and Jack, and then the Pinocchio Trio. 

At first their dynamics were all clashing and Arthur seemed like a bully and Merlin seemed like a very shallow impulsive jerk. Let’s be clear, all the guys are shallow. Even the trio who are more obsessed with their inventions half the movie. It’s what got them cursed by the fairy princess in the first place. Considering it was a fairy they pissed off, being turned into green dwarves when anyone (who isn’t a magical creature) looks at them was actually getting off mild. 

I was surprised that each Prince actually has to break their curses one at-a-time. It’s not a “break the curse for one and you save all” which was a new take on a collectively applied curse. Which was why they were every-dwarf-for-them-selves when it came to trying to woo “Red Shoes” and get a kiss from her. 

Merlin’s character journey was one that is usually reserved for the curse breaker in fairy tale movies where a curse indeed is in play. In that he was the one who had to learn to look past appearances. I love that Snow White calls him out on that at one point in the movie too. 

Merlin learning to let go of his obsession with looks (his own included) was what allowed him to see Snow White as the most beautiful woman in the world (in his eyes) which was what let her second kiss at the end break his curse. Because he saw her inner beauty which mattered more than any physical appearance she had.

The characters grew and them ending up together at the end felt natural and not forced because the time they spent together always felt like they had chemistry which is hard to pull off.

Moving on to other things: Regina, Magic Mirror, and Average. 

Honestly? Average felt like a real waste of time. It was through his lines we got the most Shrek-like throw-away references, it was he who had the least impact on the plot, and he who could have been written out of the flick almost all together. Yeah, Merlin recognizing his tree-i-fied form did hint at what Regina had done to others (and it was after he and his two not-the-Stabbington-brothers-goons became evil ents that I figured out King White was that wood bunny because it was large and cute and that was the White Family’s designs overall). 

Average was a throw away character. In many ways he wasn’t even mediocre let alone average. 

The worst thing about him is he can be easily written out of the movie. 

As the stepmother of Snow White, Regina is queen of the kingdom and all the scenes where soldiers go after Snow White and the F7 could have been her sending people to do her dirty work to spare her magic usage. 

Average’s two goombas? Hired thugs who’d never seen Snow White before. Take him out, shuffle a few things around, make a captain character be his replacement in the attack on Risky Rock scene, and nothing of value would be lost in his removal. Average is the film’s only major mistake. He was a dead end that could have been easily written around and the screen time would have been better spent on Snow White and the F7 or maybe fleshing out Regina a little more.

Magic Mirror and Regina both played well off one another. Patrick Warburton as any character will always be an excellent casting choice. 

Regina’s schemes made sense from a shallow perspective. 

I saw someone compare her to Mother Goethel from Tangeled  in a youtube comment on one of the trailers and kinda? 

They had the same sort of vanity-wanting to keep their youth and maintain their beauty-and their penchant for cloaks was the same but, Regina to me....was more like Mother Goethel and Triss Marigold from Witcher 3′s fusion. Her younger form reminded me WAY more of Triss than Goethel as did her gown. Plus, it’s canonic in the Witcher-verse that sorceresses use magic to keep young. Also, she’s not the first evil queen of a Snow White retelling to even be obsessed with youth to the point she goes to extreme lengths to maintain it. See Snow White and the Huntsman’s queen. 

Regina stands out as her own character despite sharing a name and role with Regina of Once Upon a Time. She’s ruthless, and able to manipulate others with either her words or illusionary magic (though it costs her like the witches from Stardust). She’s also absolutely cold. She just kind of falls flat compared to the Magic Mirror.

No offense to the voice actress or the writers, but up against Patrick Warburton’s Magic Mirror/tree character, Regina is a little less memorable to me. He has more sass and more pure threat to him than Regina does. Sure, she has magic that can turn people into strange tree monsters, but it’s the mirror that gives the F7 the most trouble throughout the movie, and they fought off something that looked to be a whole platoon of guards/soldiers armed with heavy artillery (canons). Granted, it was a close call that relied on their wits and other skills, but they still had less trouble with that fight than they did against Magic Mirror. 

Some More Things:

The humor was nearly overplayed but they managed to tow the line between going too far and just right.  Mostly this was seen with the F7 and their attempts to get Snow White to kiss them and break their spells, especially Arthur. 

They did give him more of a character beyond loud bully, which was that he had a sensitive side and a lot of pride (which was easily bruised). In fact, only he and Merlin felt like they had characterizations compared to the other five. Hans was obsessed with cooking and Jack with jewels and the trio with tech but that’s all they got beyond having their friends’ backs whenever it really mattered and being awesome badasses. Since these other five were mostly side characters, this is more of a nitpick than an actual problem since the film was setting up Arthur vs Merlin for Snow White’s affections. 

The fact that Snow White brushes all the attempts of flirting off so easily was very amusing to me and a nice way of showing how she was focused on finding her missing father throughout the whole film (despite the fact that she had already found him). Hilariously, in hindsight, she really had seen him in the woods. If she’d been herself, who knows if he’d have even attacked her.

Finally, I’ll end on what had seemed like an inconsistency but now I realize is a loophole because the fae have those in everything. The guys have to be alone or have the person they’re with close their eyes to be their true selves, except Merlin is still his true form even though he’s not alone with the Magic Mirror or the wood rabbit/King, or the three wood bears/children. 

Turns out, once I thought about it, the fairy’s curse was if “people looked at them” which meant, the ones doing the looking had to be people and the wood creatures-despite formerly being people-were considered to be people no longer. The Mirror was probably never a person, which mean he’d never counted as a part of “people” so he could look all he wanted (which was his thing as a mirror). It’s an interesting loophole. 

Long story short, I really enjoyed this film. It was very cute and it was done so dirty by its marketing three years ago. 

Good film. Good messages. Go watch it! It’s not like we’ve anything ELSE to do at the moment (and it’s not like there are any other worthwhile films coming out right now). Support this film, and this studio.

[dorizardthewizard]

The Revival of Akillian: Chapter 3

Prologue / Chapter 2 / Chapter 4

3. BAD ENCOUNTERS

Taking advantage of a brief return of the sun, D'jok, Thran and Micro-Ice decide to go play football on some flat ground that they have built on the edge of the city. They swept away the snow, drew lines on the shriveled grass with white paint, and constructed goal posts using tubes and poles salvaged from the ruins of the ancient capital. Ahito, Thran's brother, promised that he would join them after his little nap.

Along the way, D'jok kicks the ball that Thran brought, "improved" by himself, because Thran - a little taller than Micro-Ice, short brown hair, flat nose, black almond eyes on a round face - is very handy and fascinated by technology. When watching a Galactik Football match, the technical layout of the pitch interests him almost as much as the game on it. The ball bounces softly off D'jok's foot.

- I've made some improvements again, - Thran explains. - Now it calculates the speed of the ball, just like official Cup balls.

D’jok catches the ball and weighs it in his hands.

- Isn't it a bit heavy?

- It's because of the device inside. I'll have to find a way to alleviate it...

D'jok does a few tests again, head / foot, head / foot. That damn ball would almost give him a headache. Sitting in the grass at the edge of the stairs, Micro-Ice looks at him morosely. He stands up suddenly, and without a word, walks away up the stairs.

- What's wrong with him? - asks Thran.

- In trouble... as usual. - answers D’jok.

- Do you think we can help him?

- Not really.

- Yeah... the usual, then.

Not far away, sitting on another staircase in the middle of a tumble of rocks, Sinedd and his gang play GF-Cards, a game very popular with the fans of Galactik Football, which consists of pitting different players against each other by calculating their odds, strengths, shooting power, defensive or dribbling skills, etc. The cards themselves are the subject of collections and a successful trading market. Sinedd throws down his major asset: Warren.

- And ten! Oh, I won again! Guess I’m just too good.

Dark hair, purple eyes, thick eyebrows, a pointed nose in the middle of a thin triangular face with a determined chin, elegantly dressed (white pants with black legs, a leather jacket with padded shoulders and a high collar), Sinedd is handsome and he knows it. Many girls flock around him, which fills him with pride - worse: arrogance. He believes himself superior to everyone, and easily proves it in many areas: flirting, football... and GF-Cards. His disdainful haughtiness annoys more than one but fascinates others, like the three henchmen who constitute his gang, all devoted to their "leader".

- It's not fair, - nevertheless protests Billy, a tall, skinny blond. – You’ve won four times in a row!

- Sorry bud, it’s not my fault you suck.

With a triumphant smile, he slowly picks up the cards Billy lost.

In the meantime come Thran, D’jok and Micro-Ice - the latter stopping his friends with his outstretched arm.

- D’jok, do you see what I see?

What he sees are Sinedd's shoes, sticking out of the wide, white trouser-legged pants. Techno-Sizor 128... of course he wears the brand, the best of the best for champions like him.

Micro-Ice walks up to him with a smirk.

- Nice pumps! They must leave beautiful footprints...

Sinedd scrutinizes him, frowning.

- I don’t know what you’re talking about, kid.

- Listen here, Sinedd! – Micro-Ice gets angry. - I know you stole the tickets from me!

- What tickets?

- Don't act all innocent! You came to my house and searched my room!

- Oh! - Sinedd smiles, winking at his friends. - If I understand correctly, was something stolen from you? How touching, Micro-Ice. Tell me when to cry!

- Hey, guys! He doesn't just have super kicks... he also has a beautiful brand-new Magnet-Board! - exclaims D'jok while standing on a rock, brandishing the machine in question: an ideal board for surfing on all terrains.

Billy and the others huddle together, ready to leap onto the rock - Sinedd stays where he is: he cherishes his Magnet-Board too much, and this nutcase D'jok might break it before his friends manage to reach it.

- Give it back to me now, you hear!

- Not until you've returned Micro-Ice’s tickets.

- You really can’t do anything without D'jok, eh! – sneers Sinedd at Micro-Ice between clenched teeth.

- That’s what friends are for, right?

The two glare defiantly at each other - Sinedd also faces Thran, rather unpleasantly. With four on three he would stand a chance of coming out on top in a fight, but D’jok still wields his Magnet-Board and Sinedd is as worried about losing it as he is of taking a bad hit. He gets another idea.

He winks again at his defensive gang, takes a step back and takes on an air of resignation.

- Okay, okay... fine, you win. I'll bring you the tickets tomorrow morning without fail in front of the Great Rift. (He turns to D'jok and points an accusatory finger at him.) And if there's a single scratch on my Board, I'll take care of you, D'jok!

- Whatever you say, Sinedd, - smiles the latter, the Magnet-Board under his arm.

Sinedd waves to his gang and goes down the stairs, grumbling:

- I'll get you, you bastard.

However, he has to admit that D’jok is stronger than him. Sinedd can round up all his friends tomorrow morning in front of the Great Rift, but D'jok and Micro-Ice may do the same. Sinedd doesn't really like to fight, it's not one of the areas where he is strongest. He prefers to take up his challenges with the ball, cards in hand, or even chatting in front of a hot chick. This meeting was not a very good idea, after all. He should just let Ballow and his goons take care of those brats... yeah, that's a lot better.

***

After having left the Magnet-Board at Thran’s place (safer than with Micro-Ice or D'jok, the cave of Maia being very famous) and waking up his brother Ahito, deeply asleep as usual, the four companions go to the Cafeteria, their favorite bar, to watch the Lightnings vs. Shadows game. They could watch it at either of their houses, but the Cafeteria has comfortable sofas, there is food and drink, and above all a giant screen that allows them to immerse themselves more in the game.

As soon as they make themselves comfortable on a sofa facing the screen, Ahito falls asleep. (Ahito looks a lot like his brother, he just has longer hair and, though we do not know why, ski goggles perpetually raised on his forehead.) Yet Thran woke him up a few minutes ago…

- He falls asleep so quickly, I’ll never understand it! - D'jok remarks.

- Yeah, - Thran added, - I've seen him fall asleep at the table, while still chewing, with his head on his plate.

- Too bad, he’ll miss everything...

Micro-Ice refers to the screen on which the Technoid logo appears, against a background of thunderous music.

- Well, you see, I’m not so sure about that. - smiles Thran.

Comments on Ahito's ailment - we can call it that, given the impressive number of hours he spends sleeping - cease, as the match begins.

It starts very strongly: the Shadows and Lightnings are roughly evenly matched, the Smog of the former rivals the power of the Charge of the latter, and each team has its star players: Fulmugus, with his magical dribbling, and Niilis are the gifted among the Shadows; the beautiful Sarlight and especially the great Warren for the Lightnings. The action is super-fast, to the point that it is difficult to follow the ball, which crosses the field like a bombshell, takes off in the air like a rocket, bounces against the magnetic grids surrounding the stadium at the speed of a pinball. It’s always followed or controlled by someone who dribbles, passes, shoots, headers, stops the ball in a bewildering somersault ten meters above the ground. The rival, with an acrobatic kickback, faces his opponent in a breath-taking aerial duel, in a fireworks display of black emanations of Smog and bluish flashes of Charge.

“Of course, it's a friendly match,” clarifies the commentator. “Of course, there are no stakes. Of course, no one has an interest in getting hurt! However, each team really has the will to prove to the other that it is already in full possession of its means, as the qualifying phases of the next Galactik Football Cup approach!”

- Hey, look! Warren has the ball! - cries Thran excitedly.

- Yeah, Warren! Go! Shoot! - shouts Micro-Ice.

Warren is of course everyone's idol. Next to his muscular two metres in height, Aarch would almost pass for a weakling. In his combination of shades of blue, his face also blue surrounded by a white beard, he imposes in front of the slender Fulmugus, all dressed in black, his long brown hair flying around him. However, both compete in virtuosity, Smog and Charge mixing in black and pale blue flashes. It's rare that one manages to stand out from the other, and the whole match revolves around the duel between these two titans of the GF. On-the-fly ball control, shots and counter-shots, dribbles, tackles and passes and returns - both invariably go neck and neck. But Warren's size and long strides give him a slight advantage, even though the Shadows' Smog allows them to “teleport” instantly. Taking advantage of a tiny error by Fulmugus, Warren manages to regain the ball and immediately rushes towards the opposing goal, followed by his two attackers and the Shadow defence. Warren dribbles past the two defenders, passes to Sarlight who remained slightly behind, which disorients the rear Shadows for a fraction of a second, enough for Sarlight to immediately pass back to Warren who shoots - without even aiming, it seems. The ball shoots overhead and sinks into the net, grazing the top bar - despite his lightning reflexes, the Shadow goalkeeper misses the ball by a hair. 1-0 for the Lightnings.

The whole stadium jumps up as one in a tremendous ovation. It's delirium also in the Cafeteria, where all the customers support Warren and the Lightnings against the dark Shadows. Thran, D'jok and Micro-Ice scream and jump on the couch, waking Ahito who also yells:

- Yeah! Go, Warren!

Whereupon he closes his eyes and begins to snore again.

- Did you see that shot? - rejoiced D'jok. - Right in the corner! He really is too good!

- Yeah, - Micro-Ice nods. - He's not human, that's all. Nobody comes close to him. No one!

- By my calculations, the ball hit the net at nearly 200 per hour, - says Thran, looking at a device he made. – Of course, it's an As-1000, the best of the best!

In the meantime, Gail, Micro-Ice's mother, arrives. Employed as a waitress in the Cafeteria, she is very dapper in her orange and red uniform, pushing an anti-gravity tray loaded with drinks and food.

- The SuperForms and the pizzas go to these gentlemen. - she says, putting the tray on the table.

- Whoa, awesome! Thank you, ma'am! – says Thran, licking his lips.

The enticing scent wakes Ahito, who echoes:

- Thank you, ma'am!

- Not me, thank the boss! Besides, I wonder why he likes you so much…

- Our charm, no doubt! - suggests Micro-Ice with a wink.

That makes everyone laugh, because the boss-cook of the Cafeteria is a Cyclops, as sensitive to the charm of Humans as they are to that of a toad.

- In any case, - resumed Gail, - I’m counting on you to behave. This job is not much, but I care about it!

- Don't worry mom, we'll be quiet, - promises Micro-Ice to his mother, who returns to the counter.

- You know us! - adds D'jok. She turns around and looks at them apprehensively.

- Well yes, precisely...

As the boys munch on their pizza - their eyes riveted on the screen where the match resumes - upstairs, near the large glass roof behind which a waterfall flows, Aarch and Clamp are also following the match, but only partly. Clamp had met up with Aarch to show him a gadget of his invention. He takes out of his pocket a sort of flattened sphere made of composite materials, fitted with a holographic projector at its top.

- It's a machine that allows you to study the head game. Look.

He turns on the device. A figure appears in the tiny holo field, using its head to bounce a sphere representing a ball. Normal at first, the movement quickly becomes jerky, then accelerates until it becomes a blurry haze of pixels. The appliance whistles and smells of hot circuits. Clamp turns it off when it starts to smoke.

- Yeah, well, ok... there may be two or three more settings to fine-tune, but overall, it works!

Aarch isn’t really paying attention to his friend's rough invention. With his elbows on his knees, he holds his head in his hands, sighing.

- And if I don’t belong here, after all? - he mumbles, discouraged. - It's been so long…

- You're not going to give up everything because of those cranky grumblers?

- Ah, I don't know... - Aarch sighs again.

- What about my machines? – worries Clamp.

- All you have to do is sell them to Technoid.

- Never! During all the years that I worked for them, they were never interested in my inventions!

- Adium is right, I suppose. - Aarch continues. - Akillian's Breath is completely gone.

- The two of us will bring it back! - promises Clamp with a hungry expression.

Aarch stands up and addresses his friend.

- We can't do anything at all, Clamp. We need players, and the ones I saw weren't really, how shall I put it...

While he searches for the words, the elevator of the Cafeteria, located not far from their table, opens on the fat Ballow, his two bodyguards and a third thief, bald and threatening. The four of them head straight for Aarch and Clamp.

- Are you Aarch? - demands Ballow.

- I guess so…

The mobster signals to his goons, who advance on Aarch and Clamp, brandishing tasers - these terrible electric batons which paralyze with every blow, and can even kill someone with a fragile heart.

From the top of the gallery-counter where he went to get new SuperForms, Micro-Ice sees them and turns pale.

- Hey! But what the...? - Clamp asks, straightening up.

The bald man swings his baton, which grazes him and shatters his glasses with sizzling lightning.

- Surely we can talk about this… - begins Aarch. In turn, he narrowly avoids another taser. - Okay, I guess that means no!

- Come on! - shouts Ballow. - Let’s get this over with!

Aarch jumps up and shoves the bald guy, but one of his henchmen hits him with a nasty taser in the kidneys. Aarch doubles over, paralyzed by the pain.

- Aarch! - Clamp rushes in but receives a punch to the stomach and collapses, knocking over the table.

The three goons are about to settle their score when D'jok appears at the foot of the stairs, Thran's ball under his arm.

- Excuse me, gentlemen, please! - he calls out to them. - Could you fight more quietly? That would be nice... you're preventing us from following the match!

In response, Ballow grabs the baton of one of his men and attempts to strike a blow at D’jok, who dodges easily.

- What do you think of this, kid? Is this quiet enough for you?

D'jok drops the ball, wedges it under his foot. Micro-Ice, who is observing him from the top of the gallery, guesses from his tense body what he’s about to do.

- D'jok, no! Don’t do it!

D'jok's foot shoots, the ball flies, hits the skull of the big bald man, who collapses. Its bounce brings it back to D'jok's legs, who wedges it back under his foot.

- Don't get involved in this, kid, if you know what’s good for you! - threatens Ballow, brandishing the taser.

In response, D'jok shoots again - the ball sinks into the stomach of the youngest henchman, who lets go of his baton and doubles over, wincing in pain. This time the ball is intercepted by Thran, who came down to lend a hand to his friend.

- Oops! Sorry, I was cleaning my ball and it just went off on its own. - D'jok quipped.

- Hey, did you see that D'jok? It works! 100 km/h! - Thran pointed to the dial integrated into the ball.

- And I was going easy on them! (D’jok Looks up at the gallery.) Micro-Ice, are you in? Micro-Ice!

Micro-Ice tries to hide behind the railing, but, unfortunately for him, it’s made of glass.

- Well! Micro-Ice! - sneers Ballow. - So, have you found my tickets?

- Uh, well, I'll have them tomorrow, sir! - Micro-Ice stammers.

- Don't worry about lying, kid, Sinedd gave them back to me. He also informed me that we would find you here... (Ballow again gestures to his men, who get up.) Come on! Get rid of these nuisances!

The sinister ones light their tasers again, moving towards D'jok and Thran.

- Ready? - calls D'jok.

- Ready! – answers Thran.

- Ready! - repeats Micro-Ice, running down the stairs.

Thran kicks off, passing to D’jok, who shoots, hitting the big bald man in the temple again. The ball bounces against the canopy and comes back to Micro-Ice's feet who shoots in turn, missing the youngster by a hair. The ball is caught by Aarch, who was recovering on the couch, then throws it up and hits Ballow. It bounces against a wall, is caught by Thran who shoots in a splendid turn - unfortunately in the wrong direction. The ball flies over the gallery, straight towards the counter and the shelves of glasses and bottles stowed behind – there are cries of fear from the audience – but is stopped at the last minute by Ahito, who has emerged from the sofa where he was sleeping the previous second. Ahito passes back to D'jok, who in turn performs a powerful return shot. The ball curls the heads of Ballow and his henchmen, bounces again against the canopy and knocks all four of them in a row, sweeping them away like bowling pins. The ball wisely ends its course under D'jok's foot.

Ballow is the first to stand up. His three henchmen hold their heads, grimacing. They struggle to stand up.

- We’ll meet again! - Ballow shouts as he scurries past D'jok.

- With pleasure.

The four thugs rush into the elevator, to the cheers of the customers, who applaud this beautiful football battle and its happy outcome.

Micro-Ice reaches out to Aarch and helps him up.

- I owe you one, kids! – smiles Aarch, still in shock, as much from this sporting feat as from the taser.

- No good, sir, - D'jok retorts. - It's just that we don't like to be disturbed during a game.

- You are gifted... how would you like to be part of a club?

- You're funny! - Micro-Ice answers. - Football on Akillian is dead. Without the Breath, we’re no match against the big guys!

He nods towards the screen where Warren and Fulmugus are still grappling, in an explosion of Smog and Charge.

- Well, aside from all that, - resumes D’jok, - we have a game to finish watching.

- Yes, yes, of course... I understand. Go for it. And may the best win!

- It will be Warren, sir! - says Thran.

They all go upstairs to get back together in front of the screen and their cold pizzas. Left alone, Aarch and Clamp exchange a look of connivance... maybe, Breath or no Breath, there are not only dummies left on Akillian.

***

It’s just half-time, when Gail takes the opportunity to stand in front of the screen and scold the four boys:

- I thought I told you not to cause any trouble!

- It's not our fault, ma'am, D’jok was justified. You saw!

- It's never your fault! Just like last time…

- Gail, we're thirsty! – came a call from the bar.

She sighs and returns to her counter. The shouting match is postponed...

Thran gazes proudly at Ahito, who for once has his eyes open, dreamily watching the advertisements parading onto the screen.

- Hey, brother, that was a nice save you made earlier. You see, you can do it if you want to!

- Do you think Aarch noticed that? It feels weird to see him for real, doesn't it?

- Aarch?? - cry his friends in unison.

- Yeah, what? - Ahito smiles. - The super big guy was Aarch, guys. Don't tell me you didn't recognize him?

Immediately, D’jok, Thran and Micro-Ice rush in pursuit of Aarch, who has left the Cafeteria. Taking the sofa for himself, Ahito lies down, just to take a nap during the adverts. So much action is tiring...

In Akillian's blue night, Aarch and Clamp quietly descend the staircase that leads to the city centre and their hotel.

- You see, Clamp, I feel that with your machines and my ideas, we're going to do great things.

- That’s what I’ve been telling you, Aarch!

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

A Little Time We Can Borrow

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: 11.2k Notes: This is my free space fill for @starkerfestivals summer bingo. I caught the bug for firefighter Tony & got a couple of help little nudges from @goindownshipping to create this little gem. PS Notes: Sorry about the repost - this wasn’t showing up anywhere :[ Warnings: Some NSFW stuff, fire drama, minor character death, slight angst Summary:

Tony decided to be a firefighter to piss his dad off - & fell in love with the career. Now, a fire chief in Sarasota, Tony's life is bound to change when a handsome pastry chef is in the business of looking cute and making black smoke billow from his ovens.

Or: the one where Tony Stark looks great in his uniform and Peter comes up with excuses to get him to his shop, Truffles.

Read on AO3 here

At the beginning, firefighting seemed like the best way to piss his father off. Tony hadn’t ever been able to please the man, so he figured his career field of choice would be the most self-serving if it also got under his father’s skin. Desperate to get out of New York, Tony took the scholarship University of Florida gave him and pursued fire science with zero hesitation. He wanted to be doing things and in the action for the rest of his life.

Tony’s advanced intelligence made getting through the program easy – he took as many hours as he could to finish up in 2.5 years, instead of four. Finishing out the rest of that 3rd year, Tony took the classes necessary to get into nursing school and entered into it the very next fall semester. The training was fast paced and filled with lots of interesting skills that he couldn’t wait to take with him to whatever fire house he ended up in.

After graduating nursing school, Tony took his medical expertise one step further by getting an advanced EMT certification. By the time he applied to get into the academy, Tony was more than prepared to take on anything that came that way.

His exemplary skills followed him into the academy – Tony surprised no one by finishing at the top of his class. Aside from the bragging rights, top spot earned him his choice of assignment. Enjoying Florida so much, Tony decided to head to Sarasota and take the medic/driver position he’d been excited to try and pursue since he got into the academy.

The job was fast paced and though he didn’t do any actual firefighting inside the buildings, Tony was always busy out on calls. He was the first line of medical care if fire was the first to arrive on the scene. Between his men that were always coming out of a job with some sort of injury and the people that were on the scene, Tony got his wish; action came at him from all angles and from every direction. It fueled his fire – the irony of that not lost on him every time he thought it. Putting his head down and doing everything he could to go against his father ended up being the best decision he could have ever made.

As the years passed, Tony started to move up the ranks. He didn’t try and shift his position in the truck or take on more responsibility in terms of the fire management – instead, he provided leadership in the way he kept everyone calm, collected, and focused on whatever plan they were trying to execute. The knowledge Tony kept in his brain came in handy all of the time – knowing shit made it so much easier to think on the fly.

10 years on the job came and went with the big promotion to fire chief. At 36, he was very young to find himself in a position like that. Yet, the guys in station 501 were behind Tony 100% - most of them grew up in the firehouse with him, and if they didn’t, they quickly learned that he was the guy to go to when in trouble or out of ideas. Tony didn’t have to worry about having children ever, the guys in the firehouse were the only kids he’d ever need.

In all of his time working for the ladder, Tony hadn’t been dumbstruck by any of the people they came in contact with. One of the demands of the job included keeping a level head and being subjective – which meant mooning over gorgeous men with flour on their cheeks during a call was not optimal.

It all started earlier that day when Tony first stepped foot in the station. He’d been on his 3 day turn around and was eager to get into his office and catch up on all the comings and goings during his time away. He barely managed to get his jacket off before the horn was blaring – the early morning calls always ones that made his skin prickle a bit; most of the world had no business being up before 9AM. The worst things always happened in the mornings.

The heart pumping process of getting into his garb and pulling the truck out of the station never got old – flicking on the sirens, Tony got into the zone and got them to Truffle as quickly as they could. In the back of his mind, Tony recalled looking at the new bakery on the corner the day before – his phone ringing and pulling his attention away was the only reason why he didn’t walk across the street and check it out. Heading in that direction, Tony felt a bit like karma was coming out to play.

Getting there, Tony noticed that the building wasn’t visibly on fire – that simple fact one that always made the call seem a little less terror inducing. Despite having been on the job for more than 10 years, Tony still got scared shitless every single time he got in the truck to answer a call. It was half the fun – the activation of his fight or flight reflexes. Putting the truck in park against the side of the building, Tony climbed out of the cab and signaled for the rest of the guys to climb down and start prepping the truck for the unfortunate need of the hose.

A very disgruntled looking employee opened the door for him – her hair was everywhere around her face, a wild look in her eye. “Thank god you’re here,” she said in the form of a greeting. Her steps were quick as she led him into the kitchen – the smell of something burning immediately hitting his nose.

“What’s the problem?” Tony questioned, his eyes roaming around the kitchen in an attempt to find the source of the smell and billowing black smoke. Instead, he laid eyes on someone that immediately took his breath away.

The man had dark curly hair that was streaked through with auburn highlights. There was the smallest stud in his nose and the visible parts of his arms were completely covered in tattoos – the chef whites really highlighting the color of them. Tony couldn’t make out what they were, but they were bright and seemed to be pretty consistent in terms of a color scheme all the way up.

The handsome stranger’s eyes met his, a redness settling in the circle of his cheeks that wasn’t there before. “This was my first time attempting to use the ovens. I turned them on, and they immediately started to smoke. It doesn’t look like anything is actually on fire – the smoke just keeps billowing every time I open up the oven door.”

Tony took his helmet off and put it on the counter, the immediate threat of a roaring fire no longer his first worry. Grabbing the walkie on his shoulder, Tony gave the guys the all clear. “No hoses needed, fellas.”

He took the handful of steps over to the over and pulled open the door. The smoke was black and coming quickly from the back of the oven. “Is this new?” Tony asked, his hands shutting the oven before he could breathe in anymore of the chemical smelling smoke.

Turning around, Tony was surprised to find the man staring at him blankly. “I don’t know – I just got access to the space a few days ago. I set up the front of the house before I even thought about getting baked goods in the display cases. We’re not set to open for another couple of days.” His initial thought was relief over the fact that he didn’t miss anything when he got pulled away from his attempt to walk inside. He did his best to push that away – business was the first priority; it was straight to the facts.

“New industrial ovens like this one need a thing called a burn-in. It gets rid of all the chemical residue that sits on the surface of the new material. Sometimes, there’s remnants of the coating of some of the plastic that catches and causes the billowy smoke like what’s happening right now. You need to open a few windows and let the over run through the process,” Tony finished, his eyes finally meeting the man’s again.

A flour covered hand moved through the dark hair Tony hadn’t been able to look away from. The residue shifted from his fingers to individual strands – he had a couple of white streaks in his hair when he pulled his hand away; and Tony did his best not to notice. It wouldn’t do him any good, reaching out and brushing it away like he wanted to.

“Shit – why didn’t I think of that?” Turning to the woman in the kitchen that originally walked Tony back, the man fired off a couple of instructions, the details he gave her specific and exactly correct. Tony ran his tongue over the back of his teeth to distract himself – he was stuck between wanting to contribute to the conversation and a startling feeling of nervousness that refused to do anything other than settle down within him deeper. Whoever this person was – he had Tony’s attention.

Soon, the man was walking Tony to the front of the bakery, a somewhat embarrassed smile on his face. “Sorry to have wasted your time. MJ kept screaming about the smoke – I didn’t know what else to do.”

Resisting a chuckle, Tony put a hand up between them – if this guy only knew the amount of ridiculous calls they got on a daily basis, he wouldn’t be apologizing. “You did the right thing. It would’ve kept smoking at the temperature you had it set. An hour should do the trick,” Tony mumbled. Suddenly, the thought to give him a business card settled in his mind. He kept a small stack in his jacket next to his ID and badge – he knew they’d come in handy eventually.

“Here – this has the line to my office on it. If you ever have any more scares, don’t hesitate to give me a call. I can bring the SUV instead of the whole crew.” Tony held the card between them and almost felt disappointed when their fingers didn’t brush in the hand off. Though, he might not have gotten out the door if they did.

He watched the younger man look down at the card, a soft smile forming on his lips. “Thanks, Fire Chief Tony Stark.” The card went into his pocket and then a hand floated between them. “I’m Peter Parker,” he looked up as he spoke, the honey-hazel of his eyes hard to look away from.

Tony didn’t hesitate to take Peter’s hand, his gloves tucked into the middle of his helmet at that point. The long sleeve of his jacket covered their hands for a moment, but Tony didn’t miss the way the world sort of shifted when they touched. Pulling away before he could make an ass of himself, Tony turned back towards the door – he shot Peter a quick smirk over his shoulder.

“Don’t burn anything down, Peter Parker,” Tony added before he opened the door and stepped through it quickly. He was met by Bucky, his second in command, before he could get into the truck.

“That took an awful long time for just a little bit of smoke, boss,” Bucky said, his arm digging into Tony’s side. He let Tony up, but not before he ribbed him about the smile on his face, too. “Chief – looks like the cute baker boy got under your skin.” A hand clapped against Tony’s shoulder as he got settled in his seat behind the wheel. “Put the smile away before the guys see.”

Shaking his head, Tony threw Bucky’s arm off of his shoulder and buckled himself in. “Buck – shut the fuck up,” Tony finally replied, his eyes catching icy blue ones in the big mirror right above him. “You’re not wrong, though.”

Bucky threw his head back in laughter, the heavy helmet on his head crashing to the ground behind him. The rest of the ride was filled with sickening awe sounds and cackling that made his head hurt. It was only fair, though – everyone on the truck got the same treatment when they came walking into the group all goo-goo eyed. That’s what family did.

----

Over the next couple of weeks, Tony got three calls from Peter. The first one was an actual emergency – they didn’t have any fire extinguishers in the entire building. Taking care of it was more like a civic duty than anything else.

The second and third calls – they weren’t nearly as legitimate as the others.

Tony walked in during a busy time of the morning expecting to see something amiss, but Peter was simply standing there with a fresh pastry and a smile on his face. Eye bulging, Tony didn’t know what to think – the professional part of him wanted to reprimand Peter for abusing the privilege. Yet, he found himself smiling widely, instead – his heart throbbed any time he was in Peter’s vicinity; the thought of being able to get mad didn’t really register after letting it stew for a moment.

Peter didn’t have any real time to talk to him, either – he simply gave him the bag and slid an espresso across the counter, the same grin on his face the entire time. It made Tony’s head spin – the shift from scared to overwhelmed was a lot to take in, apparently. Sitting down at a table close to the display case, Tony ate the admittedly delicious pastry and watched Peter go about running through his duties flawlessly.

The apple strudel was so good, Tony grabbed all the rest Peter had in the case before heading out. Maybe the ruthless grief he knew he was going to take from the crew would be soothed a little by the sugary deliciousness. He and Peter shared a smile when Tony pulled the box to him – the same feeling of rightness as before settling between them.

It didn’t dissipate, either – Tony knew the second he heard Peter’s voice on the other side of the line the third time that his excuse of faulty wires in the kitchen was total bull shit. He didn’t hesitate to get up and climb into his SUV, however – at that point, he wasn’t ashamed to admit that Peter got under his skin. The resolve to ask him out got more and more traction the closer he got to Truffle.

The shop wasn’t open anymore, so Tony didn’t attempt to keep up the pretense of it being an official visit. Walking in, Tony was immediately hit by the smell of cinnamon and warm butter – the scents he’d immediately filed under ones associated with Peter. He felt his cheeks heat up a little – he might actually have it pretty bad. No matter how much he wanted to ignore it. Tony forced himself to focus, his eyes roaming around the place. “Mr. Parker?” Tony called out; his voice rich with sarcasm.

“In here,” Tony heard a moment later – the kitchen door swung open without Peter walking through it. Taking that as a sign to enter, Tony was immediately taken off guard when he found himself with an arm full of Peter Parker. He was covered in a flour and cinnamon-butter mixture in the depths of putting together some cinnamon rolls. Tony could smell the sugary goodness from where Peter’s hands rested over his shoulders.

Tony was still in his uniform, the black of his crisp short sleeved button down a direct contrast to the white apron Peter had tied around his hips. He didn’t think about the fact that he probably had a smear of butter and sugar down his back – Peter didn’t give him any time to do anything other than respond to soft lips pressed against his own. Without much thought, Tony wrapped his arms around Peter’s middle and narrowed the space between them down to nothing.

A simple kiss like the one he was currently tied up in shouldn’t have made his heart pound the way it did – Tony could feel his pulse at his temples, the throb of it just as alive as the connection that leaked out into the air. Peter was just an inch or two shorter than him, so the tilt of their heads was absolutely perfect – Tony’s nose brushed against his when he pulled away from the deep kisses to place light, chaste ones against the baker’s lips.

“This is the best call I’ve ever answered,” Tony muttered, his hands moving to frame Peter’s face. Tony’s thumbs ran along the sharpness of his cheekbones, the ability to touch something he’d been craving since the first time he saw him. His already kiss swollen lips pulling into a light smile – Tony didn’t want to look too eager.

Peter took a step back, a matching smile on his face. “I was going to go insane if I didn’t kiss you. The sneak attack has been my best idea yet,” he replied, his cheeks coloring at his admittance. Looking at his hands, Peter blushed a little harder. “I totally forgot I was baking before you got here. I probably got your uniform all dirty.” The look on his face was a cross between amusement and guilt.

Shaking his head, Tony stepped up and gripped Peter’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. He leaned forward and gave him another soft kiss. “The department pays for my dry cleaning. It’s okay, Pete,” Tony said, his lips tingling from the touches as he forced himself to actually put some distance between them.

It took a second to get a hold on his courage, Tony hadn’t done something like this in a long time. Sucking in a deep breath, he met Peter’s eyes – light brown pools were fixed on him, looking at him unblinkingly. “Want to go out on a date with me? Not that I don’t love all of the calls,” Tony started, his face breaking into a smile. “We might have more options when I’m off the clock, though. I’ve been told I’m a lot of fun.”

Tony wiggled his eyebrows and let a hearty laugh fall from his lips when Peter’s face scrunched up at the look. He felt like a kid again, enjoying the minutes of life passing merely because he could – because, when all was said in done, it felt good to. Peter joined him in laughter, and they spent a few minutes trying to gain control over their very adult, very mature selves.

“I would very much like to go on a date with you,” Peter finally answered after a while, his eyes a little watery still from all of the laughing. He pulled in a deep breath and let it out noisily, Tony watched with interest as Peter tried to collect himself. The roll of his shoulders almost had Tony losing it again, but he managed to keep it in. The way Peter made him feel was indescribable.

“Good – then I’ll pick you up here tomorrow night.”

----

Tony felt nervous the entirety of the next day. Usually, he was counting down the hours until he got his 3 days off – he was definitely excited; but nervous all the same. He talked to Bucky about taking Peter to The Hangout on Siesta Key Beach and groaned when his best friend’s eyes opened widely. “You’re taking the baker boy out? Tony Stark does have it bad!” Bucky exclaimed, the words echoing around the room loud enough to get everyone’s attention.

Despite Bucky’s reasoning behind letting the entire firehouse know about his endeavors later that evening, Tony was glad for the distraction. It’d been a slow few days on the call front and they were all getting a little antsy. The ability to make fun of their fire chief made the time pass much quicker.

Before he knew it, Tony was pulling up to Truffle, his heart hammering against his chest for a totally different reason. He looked down at his outfit one more time, suddenly unsure of the black henley and jean combination he picked out. Peter must have seen his car pull up because he was out the door before Tony could second guess himself any longer. Hitting the locks, he grinned when he caught Peter’s attention.

The smell of Peter’s cologne hit him the second the man started to slide into the bench seat of his truck. There were the underlying spices as well as something citrusy – the tang of it made Tony’s mouth water. Leaning over when Peter settled, Tony pressed his lips to a soft cheek. “You look great, Pete,” Tony remarked, his eyes sweeping over his date for the evening.

Pete’s jeans were dark and hugged his legs nicely. The flip-flops on his feet gave way to long toes that were obviously well cared for. Living at the beach brought a certain style to the people that embraced it and Peter was one of them. He wore a black necklace around his neck that had a small pie pendant hanging from it, the crisp blue he wore contrasting nicely. It was a totally different look than the rolled-up chef whites Peter usually donned.

“Thanks! So do you, Tones. I had no idea that firemen could look as good out of the suit as they do in it,” Peter slipped his hand on Tony’s leg as he spoke, his fingers digging in with the last statement.

“Common misconception, I think,” Tony replied, backing out of the parking space. With the gear shift dealt with, Tony scooped up Peter’s hand and held it tightly. Their joint fingers were warm against his thigh. The music wasn’t too loud, so when Tony asked about how the day went for the bakery, conversation flowed easily between them. Peter was open with is words and wasn’t afraid to say what was on his mind.

Tony was beaming by the time they made it to the beach. Shifting in his seat a little, Tony brought their joint hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to one of Peter’s knuckles. “I thought we could get a drink and play some cornhole, or something. When you find yourself getting hungry, let me know – I’m making dinner back at my pad when we’re ready.” For whatever reason, he felt the need to explain himself – he wanted the night to go well and couldn’t stop the nervousness from overflowing.

Luckily, Peter was an amazing person and just went with it. They got out of the car and spent a few minutes tracking down a bar tender to get a couple of drinks. Tony stuck with a beer and giggled insanely when Peter ordered a strawberry daquiri; the happiness in his eyes when the bartender put it down in front of him was absolutely adorable.

Making their way over to one of the cornhole pits, Tony let Peter pick his bean bags and took the other set. “You’re not too far out of culinary school or college, right? You know how this is played?” Tony asked, his eyebrows raising when he saw the acceptance of some unknown challenge settle on Peter’s face. He was learning new things about the younger man by the minute – starting with the fact that Peter Parker was very competitive.

“We used to have backyard tournaments all the time when I was a kid,” Peter remarked, his hand flipping the bean bag up and then catching it on its descent. “Want to make this interesting?” Peter spoke again, an evil sort of glint in his eye.

Not one to pass up a challenge himself, Tony nodded, his smile widening. “Cool, then we’re on equal footing. We’ve got a pit in the common area at the firehouse. I would love to make this interesting.” And he did – no matter what Peter threw his way; Tony was probably going to be absolutely excited to be a part of.

Unless, of course, it was baking – Peter’s face took on an amused expression. “If I win, you come learn how to make those cinnamon rolls you’re always mooning over. If you win, I’ll bake whatever you and the crew want for a whole month.” The deal was very one-sided and should have been enough of a clue for Tony to understand that he would not be wining and that the cuteness of Peter Parker was laced with mischief and a sort of excitement that was entirely too addicting.

Instead of running like he should have, Tony took the deal without any hesitation. “Bucky is going to be so stoked – he loves that baklava that you make.”

In the end, Peter kicked his ass – his aim was practically perfect and the amount of cornholes he scored made Tony embarrassed to have even tried to match him. They played 5 games and Peter won every single one of them. While they played, they talked about little things – what kind of food was their favorite, where they traveled, favorite colors. Tony enjoyed every single painstaking second of getting his ass handed to him; Peter was full of life and made it hard for anything else to break through the surface.

“So, I guess I should tell you now that I have no baking skills to speak of. Putting me anywhere near your kitchen with an intention of not burning something is a huge risk, Pete,” Tony said a little later. They were gathered around the small table in his kitchen passing a big bowl of pasta back and forth. As long as he wasn’t using the oven, Tony could put food together – the minute he needed to gauge time and temperature all bets were off. Aside from pissing his dad off, a near fatal interaction with cupcakes as a kid put firefighting in his head to begin with.

Peter reached across the table and gripped his hand tightly. He’d been doing that periodically throughout the meal – his hands were constantly moving, especially when he talked. Yet, Tony wasn’t upset about it for a single second; the restless nature of Peter’s need to move matched with the way Tony’s brain could never shut off.

Done with the food on his plate and able to give Peter more of his attention, Tony laced their fingers together. He didn’t miss the flash of happiness in Peter’s eye, the look one Tony hoped he’d get to be very familiar with. In his adult life, Tony didn’t make a lot of connections like this – he appreciated every aspect of the interesting relationship they were slowly starting to piece together. If he read things correctly, Peter seemed to be throwing himself full body into their interactions, as well – but only time would tell.

“You can cook – that’s at least a little reassuring. The baking process just gets a little more technical than throwing stuff in a pan and hoping it tastes good. I can teach you – how hard could it possibly be?” Peter gave his fingers a squeeze and pulled away to take a long sip of the glass of wine tucked against his plate.

Tony didn’t have any idea, so he didn’t comment. He simply relaxed into his chair and watched Peter enjoy himself. Bucky told him that when he met Steve – things just clicked. There was something inside that just knew. Looking at Peter in that moment, Tony finally understood what he meant. It was too early for thoughts like that – but he felt something settle in him and take hold; Tony wasn’t going anywhere as long as Peter would have him.

With that thought in mind, Tony let Peter help him with the dishes before grabbing the rest of the wine and leading him out to the front room. He spent most of his time out there, so it was pleasantly decked out with a big wide screen TV, multiple gaming platforms, and a deep L-couch that Tony spent more time sleeping on than he cared to admit. Peter’s eyes widened with excitement as he looked around the room.

“This is nerd haven, Tones. On a night that I haven’t beat your ass already, we’ll have to fire up the Switch and play some Super Smash Bros Melee – I used to win so much money as a kid in tournaments playing as Link,” Peter gushed. When Tony settled against one of the edges, Peter snuck under his arm and leaned against his chest, their sides pressed together from shoulder to hip.

Wrapping his arm more firmly around Peter’s shoulder, Tony placed his wine on the table next to him and picked up the remote. He got a movie on the screen, then turned his attention back to the conversation they were having. “That doesn’t surprise me at all, Pete. I bet you hustled all the other little kids out of their money no problem,” Tony said, his lips pressing against the side of Peter’s head.

At the affectionate contact, Peter leaned a little further into Tony’s side, his arm wrapping snugly around his waist for good measure. “I didn’t hustle anyone. I just used my superior video game skills to win money that was fairly bet. It’s not my fault that people have always underestimated me.”

Tony let his hand drift up and down Peter’s arm in what he hoped was comforting. He knew exactly what it was like to be underestimated – his father didn’t believe in him a day in his life. Keeping that to himself for now, he simply pulled Peter even closer to him and tucked in to enjoy the fact that they were together and watching Pineapple Express.

The soft snore he felt against his chest half an hour later had Tony grinning – Peter shouldn’t be allowed to get any cuter, but he did and probably wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon. Shaking him with the hand still resting on his shoulder, Tony managed to wake him up. “Hey, let me take you home – I know you have to open the shop early in the morning,” he whispered, the smile on his face stretching wider at the sleepy look on Peter’s face.

It took a little bit of prodding, but Peter eventually got up and collected himself enough to get into the truck without much of a fuss. He didn’t fall back asleep and spent most of the drive staring over at Tony. He didn’t want to admit that he spent more time looking at Peter than the road – he drove a firetruck for fucks sake. Pulling into the driveway of a small ranch style house, Tony parked the car.

“Can I walk you up?” Tony asked, his eyes flashing to the porch at the front of the house. Though he knew the night needed to come to an end, Tony didn’t want it to – especially not before he got to feel Peter’s lips pressed against his own again.

“Sure, Romeo,” Peter replied, the softness of his hand on Tony’s softening the blow of the sharp sarcasms. Tony gave it a squeeze and got out of the car, meeting Peter around the front of his truck. Grabbing his hand again, Tony led him the 20 feet between his headlights and the door.

Peter didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around Tony when they got to the door – his fingers played with the soft hairs at the back of his neck for good measure. Tony pulled him in tight and leaned forward, pressing their noses together. “You’re kind of a shit, aren’t you?” Tony asked, his lips skimming Peter’s he spoke.

“Yup, and you like it,” Peter replied before filling the rest of the distance and really kissing Tony. His movements were still a bit choppy from the sleepiness, but the heat of his kiss was more than enough to sweep Tony right off of his feet. Peter pulling away felt like crashing to the ground – his lips already missing the press and pull of the other’s.

“Good night, Tony Stark,” Peter whispered, his body already turning towards the door to get it open.

Taking a step off the porch, Tony grinned – “Night, Peter Parker.”

----

The next couple of weeks passed by like a snap – Tony worked a couple of double shifts to cover for Bucky who went out of town with Steve for their wedding anniversary. He spent as many random moments with Peter as he could, but they weren’t able to get together in much of a formal capacity until Bucky got back. If it weren’t for the dazed look on his friend’s face, he probably wouldn’t have made it out of the door so quickly without a little heckling. Tony owed Peter a little time in his kitchen and planned to pay his due that evening.

Walking into the empty bakery always had Tony taking a deep breath in – he’d never get over the warmth and comfort that immediately wrapped him up the second he took a step inside. Peter was standing at the counter waiting for him, a warm look on his face. “Chief,” Peter greeted him, his hand wrapping around Tony’s shoulder without any prompting.

Tony grinned and turned his head to press a kiss to Peter’s ear. “Chef,” Tony replied as they walked through the heavy door to get into the kitchen. Tony got a quick kiss on the lips – then, an apron hit him in the side of the head.

Like most things, Peter seemed to be playfully specific about his time in the kitchen. He helped Tony tie off his apron, then immediately set him up with a rolling pin. He guided him through the best way to get the dough flat and what sort of thickness they were looking for. The way his fingers tangled up with Tony’s made it hard for him to concentrate on the baked goods – despite being flour covered, Peter’s hands were so soft.

They put an embarrassing amount of butter on the rolled-out dough, then sprinkled a cinnamon and sugar concoction on top. Peter moved behind him and showed him the maneuver to roll up the dough – Tony once again almost completely distracted by the touch of Peter’s hands on him. “You’re distracting as hell, I hope you know that, Pete,” Tony said after they had the dough rolled.

Cutting individual rolls, Peter nodded his head, a cocky smile slipping across his cheeks. “That’s kind of the point, Tones,” Peter admitted, his hands moving in a repetitive motion that was very obviously familiar. “One of the best parts of baking is the freedom of it. You have to make it fun. Touching you is fun.” Peter finished what he was doing and put them into a couple of pans. Tony, in an effort to help, put them in the oven.

Before he could move away, Peter was grabbing his upper arms and walking him back until Tony was pressed against the counter. “Those need about half an hour and then we’ll need to check them. I can think of something that will pass the time, though – if you’re interested.” He leaned in before Tony could even respond, but it didn’t matter; he wasn’t going to pass up the chance to be pressed flush against Peter in any way.

It’d been a long time since he spent so much time making out with another human – Tony felt very much like a teenager and appreciated it wholeheartedly. Peter started to thrust his hips against Tony after a while, the hardness that pressed against him was the ultimate tease. Not interested in resisting the urge to reciprocate, Tony broke away from their kiss and let out a deep groan. “You feel amazing,” he babbled, his fingers attempting to make quick work of the button on Peter’s jeans.

Just as he started to make progress, Peter’s alarm for the food in the oven went off. With a sigh, Peter pulled away and stumbled the few steps over to the oven. Tony followed, his body unwilling to be separated from Peter’s, even for the few seconds it would take to open the doors and check on the pastries. He wrapped his arms around Peter’s hips and pulled him close. Tony’s lips started to suck and kiss on the back of his neck.

The heat from the open oven had Tony hiding his face against Peter’s shoulder, his nose pressing into the softness of his shirt there. Peter made quick work of pulling them out and turning the pans – it didn’t seem quick enough, though. Tony moved his hand to the temperature gauge on the side and cranked it up while his other hand turned Peter around when the oven door was finally shut.

Getting lost in Peter’s lips was insanely easy. The idea of getting lost in his pants brought a whole new dimension to what they were doing together. Tony managed to get the button popped and the zipper down without much of a hassle, his fingers grazed over the front of Peter’s boxer briefs without any hesitation.

When the fire alarm started to sound, Tony had Peter’s boxers pulled all the way off his hips and his cock gripped tightly in his fist. Peter tried to do the same for Tony, but only got around to getting his pants undone. Looking up in confusion, Tony let out a sharp gasp when he noticed that actual flames were engulfing the oven. “Holy shit,” Tony stuttered out, his brain still muggy from the haze of arousal. “Get the extinguisher!” Tony yelled, watching as Peter rushed to pull up his pants and run into the office in the kitchen.

Tony got Bucky on the phone as quickly as he could.

“What’s up, Stark? I thought you’d be too caught up in your date by this point of the night,” Bucky said in the way of a greeting. Any other time, Tony would’ve laughed, but he couldn’t – not right then.

“Bucky, grab the keys to my SUV off of my desk and get to Truffle. The oven is on fire.” Tony mumbled the last few words and looked guiltily down at himself, the button on his jeans still undone and everything. “Hurry!” He didn’t give the man a chance to respond – Tony hung up and grabbed the extinguisher from Peter when he came running out with it.

It didn’t take much to get the flaming pans of cinnamon buns under control – they were all ruined, but the oven would still be usable once it got a thorough cleaning; which Tony offered to pay for several times. Calling Bucky wasn’t exactly necessary – it just gave Peter the ability to file a report with his insurance company if push came to shove. Luckily, it didn’t.

Tony, however, was not so lucky – Bucky started to laugh at him from the second he was let into the bakery until he left. He looked at the still undone button on Tony’s pants and the permanent flush on Peter’s cheeks with a knowing expression. The cursory glance that he gave the oven was just to make the pain of his presence even worse than it already was. Tony bit into his lip to stop himself from being a sarcastic asshole. He’d get Bucky back one of these days.

Before he left, Bucky wrapped his arms around them both, a shit eating grin on his face. “We should have learned in this embarrassing collection of events that having sex and cooking cinnamon rolls is not a good mix. Chief, you should know better.” Bucky finished his little lecture with a firm kiss on Tony’s cheek and a soft smack on Peter’s. “Be careful, kids.”

Both Tony and Peter stayed silent until they heard the bell on the front door ring, signaling Bucky’s exit. Tony broke the silence first, his hearty laugh echoing in the otherwise empty kitchen. “That’s probably the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me,” Tony groaned after a few minutes of letting the hilarity overtake his body. The gasping sounds of Peter laughing right along with him made it all a bit more okay.

“I can’t believe he just gave us a safe sex lecture,” Peter added, his face now completely red. “In my own kitchen!” He put a hand on his chest like he was affronted, which made them both laugh even harder.

Unable to stop himself, Tony wrapped Peter up in a tight hug and let the remnants of his chuckles die down – his nose buried in the man’s skin was more than calming. “I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have touched anything,” Tony admitted, regret and the slightest bit of guilt apparent in his voice.

Peter shifted until he could palm Tony’s cheeks. Their eyes met, the soft smile he saw on Peter’s face was too much – there were so many emotions just sitting on the surface. “It’s okay, Tony. Life with you is never going to be boring, and I’m way more than okay with that.” Peter rubbed their noses together, then kissed him – the intention behind it very clear.

----

Tony couldn’t decide whether the break they took to take both their cars to his house was a good idea or a terrible one. It gave him a few seconds to clear his head, because Peter consumed him whenever they were together – it was obvious in the way that he almost burned down the bakery he’d been slowly becoming familiar with. It felt miserable to be away from him, though – his fingers ached to feel Peter’s warm skin underneath them. The slightest taste he got back in the kitchen wasn’t nearly enough.

They pulled up right around the same time and hustled into the house through the garage door. Tony didn’t give Peter a chance to do anything other than react, his hands gripped slim hips and tugged him close. Their lips were pressed together before either of them knew it, Tony’s tongue slipped between the seam of Peter’s lips when he gasped at the sensation of being pressed lip to toe.

It took a little bit of fumbling, but Tony managed to walk them through the maze of his kitchen and front room until the backs of Peter’s knees were hitting the edge of his mattress in the master bedroom. Tony broke the kiss and pushed on Peter’s chest, the other man taking the hint and dropping down, crawling until he was up by the pillows in the middle of the bed.

Pulling the soft t-shirt he’d been wearing all night over his head, Tony kicked off his shoes and thumbed off his socks before crawling onto the bed. He methodically took Peter’s clothes from him, too. First the short sleeve button down; then his pants, boxer briefs, and flip-flops all in one move. Tony took a few seconds to enjoy the vision of Peter naked and panting – he couldn’t recall anything so erotic. “You look great spread out on my sheets, Pete. I’ve imagined you here so many times.”

Peter looked up at him with lust blown eyes, his tongue peeking out to trace his bottom lip. “Is that so? What, exactly, have you imagined?” Peter got Tony’s button undone and zipper pulled down while he spoke. His hand plunging into the front of blue boxer briefs and gave Tony’s cock a quick squeeze.

His skin tightened, Peter’s touch like a hard press to the gas of his body’s responses. Gooseflesh pebbled over his skin, the battle between fire and icy goodness pulling a moan from his throat. Reaching down, Tony reluctantly grabbed Peter’s hand and worked it out of his pants so he could get them down and off his body. He replaced the hand on his cock and went about running his hands all over Peter’s skin.

“I mostly imagine this – the long lines of your limbs and how the skin gives way to the lean muscle I knew you’d be sporting. You’re under me a lot and sometimes, I’ve got you on your belly and pressed so far into the mattress. It just depends on the mood, honestly – you’ve been in a starring role since we met.” While he described what he thought about, he let his hips start to move in the tight grip Peter had around his cock.

Leaning down, Tony let their lips tangle. He slipped his hand between them and slapped Peter’s away. His fingers wrapped around himself and Peter and started to stroke, instead – the slick from his cock helping the slide of his hand up and then back down. When Peter started to pick his hips up and chase Tony’s touch, he squeezed their lengths together one more time before pulling back. Peter looked up at him desperately, his eyes wide. “You okay?” Peter asked breathlessly.

Tony didn’t answer right away, he gave Peter another swift kiss on the lips, then leaned over to the bedside table to grab the lube and a condom – things were about to get hot and heavy and he didn’t want to have to stop. “I’m good, Pete. Better than,” he finally muttered, a sigh leaving his lips when he was pressed against Peter’s bare skin once again. “How do you want me?”

Peter blinked up at him, his colorfully coated arms rubbing up and down Tony’s sides. “This is good. I don’t need much prep, I want you so bad, Tones.” He gripped Tony’s shoulders and pulled him down, the kiss they got lost in warm and intense – the touch a sweet prelude to what was to come.

In an attempt to finally get some of the friction back against his length, Tony pulled away from Peter’s distracting lips and shifted until he was upright and seated between long, lean legs. Snapping the cap off the top of the lube, Tony poured a large amount into the palm of his hand – he wrapped it around Peter’s erection and gave a couple of slow pulls, spreading the slick around. Peter thrust up into his touch, the vein on the side of his length throbbing against Tony’s fingers.

He forced himself to pull away from Peter’s leaking erection to pour more lube into his hand. Coating his fingers in it, Tony traced the rim of Peter’s hole, the muscle clenching with the tickle-y caress. Tony used his free hand to fist his red cock while his lubed-up fingers traced and pushed until two of them were slipping into Peter’s warm embrace.

Tony didn’t spend much time teasing anything out – he pressed forward slowly until his fingers were fully seated, then pulled back and started a steady rhythm. He kept his thrusts even until he felt the tips of his fingers press against Peter’s prostate – the contact against it pulled a sticky glob of precum from the head of his cock.

“Oh, fuck! Tony – that’s fantastic.” Peter tossed his head back and forth, the words coming out of his mouth in loud shouts. “More – I need more. I want you inside of me.”

Running his tongue over his bottom lip, Tony pulled his fingers out swiftly and immediately pushed back in with 3 of them. He spread his fingers apart at the rim a couple of times in a desperate last-minute attempt to stretch him. Then, he pulled out completely and reached for the condom he placed carelessly on the comforter. He put the edge of the foil between his teeth and ripped it, a sigh of relief slipping from his lips when his fingers fumbled it out of the package.

Shaky fingers rolled the latex down his hard length, his fingers squeezing at the base when he got there. Closing his eyes, Tony heard the cap of the lube open and fingers that weren’t his own slick him up. He glanced down to see Peter looking at him impatiently, his cheeks beet red and covered in sweat. “Come on – “ Peter gasped out, obviously unable to control himself.

Not needing to be told more than once, Tony guided the head of his cock to Peter’s hole and pressed in, his upper body folding over the man below him. With each thrust forward, Tony got a little further inside, the warm heat enveloping him like a tight glove. His eyes were wide and his breathing erratic – it’d been a long time since he felt something so sweet; and the fact that it was Peter below him made it that much sweeter.

His hips rested against Peter’s ass as he finally bottomed out. Biting down into the skin of Peter’s shoulder, Tony let his hips roll forward, just that slight movement making the heat in his core bubble dangerously close to the rim. He turned his head enough to capture Peter’s lips, Tony drawing his hips back and snapping them forward as their tongues tangled.

The arousal rising between them was tangible – intensity swirled in the room around them. Peter broke away from the kiss to pant out loud breaths and moans; his chest rose and fell against Tony’s in a way that spoke of how good it actually felt. Tony took advantage of Peter’s distraction to sit up and grab his legs, throwing them up over his shoulder. The change in position let Tony slam in a little deeper – the tip of his cock nailed Peter’s prostate with every single thrust.

Signs of Peter’s orgasm overcame the younger man’s body progressively. Tony felt his toes curl against his fingers, then saw the rush of blood trail down Peter’s chest. It was a deep red, much like the color of his cock throbbing against the flatness of his stomach. The pearly bead of precum that dripped onto his stomach caught Tony’s eye, his vision focusing on the clear liquid. When Peter actually came apart under him, Tony couldn’t look away – thick ropes of cum covered his stomach.

Rhythmic clenching of Peter’s hole pulled Tony over the edge a thrust later. He managed to drop Peter’s legs down around his hips before falling down over him, his body suddenly heavier than Tony could manage.

Lips against the side of his head pulled him out of the haze a few minutes later – Peter was looking at him with a deep look of satisfaction on his face. Tony grinned up at him – his heart felt light and despite the fatigue that tried to pull him under, he’d never felt better. He managed to shift just enough to pull out, get the condom off and tied, and lay down heavily on Peter’s side. His heavy head rested on Peter’s muscled shoulder and finally, Tony let himself relax.

The next time Tony blinked, he was on his back with Peter tucked under his arm. His skin felt like it’d been wiped clean and the room around them was much darker than it’d been when things first started. Peter’s arm was across his chest and for the first time, he got the chance to look at the tattoos covering the entirety of it. There were a collection of roses wrapping around his forearm and over his bicep and deltoid. All of the free space was covered by cherry blossoms. It was simple and elegant – perfect for the man Tony was starting to know so much about.

Before relaxing back into the pillows, Tony gave Peter’s forehead a soft kiss – a smile slipping across his face as he did. Gripping the tattooed arm resting against him, Tony nestled into the warmth surrounding him and let himself drift back to sleep.

----

For a little while after that, Tony got to live in a state of bliss that shouldn’t have existed. Peter was passionate in all ways – breaking down the wall between them in the physical sense opened the floodgates and pulled them both under. For weeks, whenever they could get a free second to be together, Tony and Peter allowed the hunger to take over.

The guys at the firehouse were quickly accustomed to seeing Peter walk out in the early hours of the morning with a sleepy chief trailing after him for the chance at one more kiss. It quickly got too sickeningly sweet for them to make too much fun of it.

Tony was more than grateful for that – and not just because it got the guys off his back. Peter brought out a different side of him and for the first time, probably ever, Tony had someone else that got him to the very core. With Peter, Tony could be himself.

They were able to live in the fuzziness of the novelty of their relationship for 10 weeks before the reality of Tony’s job came crashing down around them like the scary thing it actually was. He’d been lucky, to have met Peter during a time when things were slow around the station. In the years he’d been working, Tony knew lulls didn’t last for long – and when they came to a grinding halt, there was always something catastrophic to blame.

Getting a call on his day off, Tony immediately knew there was something wrong. Fury, the Captain in charge when he and Bucky weren’t around rarely called him. Even when he was actually needed. Seeing his name on the caller-id had him kissing Peter on the check and excusing himself to the hall of the restaurant they were at. He didn’t miss the concern etched on Peter’s brow – though, the depth of it was not yet understood.

By some sort of weird gut feeling, Peter already knew he had to go when he walked back into the room. He paid the check while Tony was on the phone and was waiting by the door. “I’m sorry, Pete. There’s a multiple building fire and they’re calling everyone in. I have to go,” Tony explained, his thumb hitching over his shoulder like Peter didn’t know Tony’s truck was parked outside. “I’ll come back when I can.”

With a soft kiss and what felt like a desperate hug, Tony was turning on his heel and heading towards the location he’d been given. The enormity of it hit him when he realized how backed up traffic was on his way to get a couple of miles down the road. Pulling up, Tony covered his mouth when he saw the entirety of the brand-new commercial shopping center on fire.

It didn’t take long to find Bucky, who was also in a similar state of civilian dress – they looked at each other with wide eyes, knocked shoulders, and walked into the scene with as much confidence as they could. Aside from the battalion chief that hadn’t been called in, they were the highest ranking on the scene.

Tony didn’t hesitate to move around and get into a suit while collecting all of the facts. They were four trucks deep and pulling as much water as they possibly could. There hadn’t been signs of explosion, but the intensity of the fire meant it had a mind of its own – a change could occur in a heartbeat. Unable to think of anything else he’d need to know, Tony tucked in behind Bucky on their truck’s line.

The fire was too big to recognize all of the signs of the flashover that took the building down and 6 firefighters with it instantly. Tony, who’d been near the front of the building went flying back, landing in a heap not far from the truck. Disoriented, Tony got up and pulled anyone in his path up and off the ground. No matter what – they needed to get the fire under control.

It took another couple of hours and two more buildings falling to the ground to finally get the flames under control. Tony, who’d been dealing with dizziness and nausea since getting off the ground, called in for back up from neighboring stations – they needed manpower and they needed it quick. Falling against the side of the truck when things were finally out of his hands, Tony retched, then slipped down further until he was on the ground.

A panicked look in Bucky’s eyes was the last thing Tony remembered before the blackness of a severe concussion and fatigue overtook him.

Waking up in a hospital bed wasn’t what he expected when he walked onto the scene the night before. Peter and Bucky, both pale with what he could only assume was worry, were staring at him when he blinked awake. The lights in the room were incredibly bright and the figures of his two favorite humans were a little wonky – but, he felt glad to be alive.

“We got it stopped, right? I didn’t punk out before the fun was over?” Tony asked, his voice foreign to his own ears – he sounded loopy, the words slurred a little. Whatever they had him on, it was doing the trick. He felt woozy and without a single ounce of pain.

Peter grabbed his hand and let out a snuffled laugh – for the first time since coming to, Tony could see the tear streaks on Peter’s cheeks. Reaching out to him, he gestured with his fingers for Peter to come closer. In the state he was in, it probably didn’t look coordinated, but his boyfriend came over, anyway. He let out a sigh against Tony’s chest when he pulled him close – the feeling of Peter was the only thing Tony needed in that moment.

“We got it handled, Chief – no worries. There was a lot of damage and we’re… 6 men short; but we stopped it.” Bucky’s voice cut through the little bit of goodness he was feeling – the memory of the blast and the guys they couldn’t get to respond hit him like a bus. 6 good men. Clenching at the hand that he was more than grateful to be holding, Tony let tears he couldn’t control fall.

Without any hesitation, both of the guys in the room wrapped him up in a hug – the sensitivity of his head and body be damned. He felt the sleeve of his hospital gown get more and more wet with tears; the spot Bucky was claiming a total mess when the moment finally broke. Tony clapped a hand against Bucky’s arm a few times in solidarity – the two of them sharing a look.

After a little while of merely existing in the same room together, Bucky got up and moved towards the door. “I’m gonna go home and sleep – now that I know you’re okay, I can stop worrying Steve.” Bucky flashed him a halfhearted smile, the forced nature of it making Tony’s stomach churn a little bit.

It should’ve been a sign – the unease he felt. Yet, Tony was just grateful to be there and have Peter sitting there by his side. That lasted all of ten minutes before Peter was bringing his hand up to his mouth for a lingering kiss – then, he let it go and got up. Tony pinched his eyebrows together – the move making his head ache through the haze of the drugs. “Pete?” Tony mumbled; his body suddenly frozen.

“Tony – I’m glad you’re okay. I needed to make sure you were.” Peter looked at him, the man desperate to portray something in the way he stared at him. Tony didn’t blink – the thought of closing his eyes meant Peter would disappear that much sooner. “I think I need some time to think. I’ve lost so many people in my life – the idea of you being one of them the past twelve hours was a little soul crushing.”

He took a step towards Tony and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Please understand. I just need some time.”

Tony tried not to let the sob that shattered him go until he heard the click of the door closing behind him. It was probably the head injury – making him feel like the world titled a bit off its axis at the sight of Peter’s back to him. He suddenly wished for the numb feeling he experienced the first couple of seconds of coming to – at least then the feelings wouldn’t be sitting on his chest, threatening to stomp him into the dirt and keep him there.

----

The doctor kept him in the hospital for another day to make sure they observed his brain function and symptoms fully. Bucky and Steve grabbed him when he was released and plied him with greasy cheeseburgers and fries before dropping him back at his house. He still had a couple of days off, so he bypassed his living room and dropped onto the bed. It smelt like Peter – everything in the place did. Stuffing his face into the pillow that Peter usually slept on, Tony let his tears lull him to sleep.

That went on for about 16 hours – he slept for a while, came to and got lost in the rush of emotions that he couldn’t control, then fell asleep again. A part of him was glad that Peter wasn’t around to see him – he wasn’t stable in any way. Peter deserved much more than that; much more than him.

His inability to sit still for long had him heading back to the station the next day – sitting around his house that was swarming with fresh memories of the person he thought he might really let himself have fully wasn’t going to get him anywhere. It felt more painful than the ache in his head ever could.

He didn’t take into account, however, that 2 of his own guys were taken from them in the horrendous fire that, at that point in his career, was the worst one Tony experienced. The mood around the station was somber and only made the entire body ache that engulfed him so much worse. Funeral service plans were waiting on his desk, the sleek black of the folder finally making the situation real.

In a desperate attempt to find that numbness again, Tony got lost in the mountain of work that he’d been putting off. Between the hands-on part of the job and sneaking off to spend as much time with Peter as he could, Tony let a lot of his duties slack. Now that he didn’t have anything to look forward to, the least he could do was get his work done.

The funeral ceremonies were the following week – seeing everyone dressed in their Class A’s usually made him beam with pride; but it made his heart heavy, instead. Tony made his speeches about Quill and Draxx with as much emotion as he could pull from himself. He stood at the front right of the procession and did his best to bring comfort to anyone that needed it. All the while, Tony found himself falling apart more and more – it was all too much at once.

Making his excuses as early as he could, Tony got back to his house without turning around. He never distanced himself like that from the job that was so important to him. Yet, he found himself unable to give himself to the people that needed that from him – so, he got out and went to hide his tail between his legs in the privacy of his own home.

What he didn’t expect, however, was Peter’s car parked in his driveway, the man leaning against his driver’s side door. Tony tried not to smile, his face a little unsure of the movement pattern, anyway. Seeing the person who’d been on his mind non-stop since he walked out of the hospital room made Tony feel a lot of things. Relief the first among them.

Before getting out of the car, Tony ran his hands over his eyes and down his face. There wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d be able to wipe the sadness and days’ worth of tears from his face – but it felt good to try. Sinking his hat low on his brow, Tony finally climbed out – the entirety of him feeling on edge.

Peter didn’t wait to approach him, he filled up the space between them and threw his arms around Tony’s shoulders. The touch was too nice to worry about anything else, Tony merely leaned into it – his own hands wrapping around Peter’s waist. Closing his eyes didn’t feel like inviting in a nightmare, so he tilted his head and let his chin rest of Peter’s shoulder. The weight of everything left him; just for a second.

Wordlessly, Tony pulled back and grabbed Peter’s hand. Much like the first time he brought him home, Tony led Peter through the door – only this time, they stopped in the kitchen. Tony let go and went about taking his hat and gloves off, the fancy things getting brushed to the corner of his otherwise empty counter. He didn’t stop moving until the crisp jacket was off his shoulders and slung over one of the chairs pushed into the table.

“Tony, I – “ Peter started. His hands gripped the edge of Tony’s counter, the knuckles turning white.

“If you’re going to say you’re sorry, don’t. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. My job is scary and it’s a lot to handle. Even for me,” Tony said, the last couple of words coming out breathlessly. The truth behind them made him want to curl up in a ball. He walked to the fridge and grabbed two beers, instead – anything to distract himself.

Their fingers brushed when Tony handed over the bottle – Peter’s fingers held his purposely, the warmth of his touch scalding, the scorch a delicious pleasure-pain of uncertainty and deep want clutching and not letting go. It felt good – even if it was fleeting; having Peter back at all was enough.

“I was just going to say that you look good – in your uniform. It suits you. You embody it. I didn’t know what I came here to say, to be honest. I just knew that I wanted to be here,” Peter stopped to take a long pull of the beer, his eyebrows arching at the hoppy taste of the IPA. He let silence build up for a moment – their eyes never leaving each other. “I think that’s enough. To be bigger than the worry. Being here, I mean. With you.”

The click of glass on the counter was the last thing Tony remembered before Peter’s lips were on his. He could still taste the beer on Peter’s tongue – the bitterness of it made the slide and press of their lips together that much sweeter. Huffing out a breath through his nose, Tony gripped Peter’s cheeks and tilted his head further, deepening the kiss.

“I need you to be sure, Pete,” Tony whispered after a while, his forehead resting against Peter’s. “You’re it. Don’t let me get used to you if you’re going to disappear.” It was more than he meant to say, but now that it was out there, Tony felt a bit better for it.

Peter grabbed the back of Tony’s arms, the touch soft, his thumb moving over the thin white shirt there. He gave Tony a brief kiss – and then another. “I’m sure, Tony.”

[loopy777]

I love your two Ursas analysis! If we ignore The Search and take the hints from canon, like her laughing at the siege of Ba Sing Se, do you have a HC for the night Azulon died/where she was all those years? I almost think it’s most plausible that she died or was otherwise incapacitated. And do you think she ever had a “the FN is evil” epiphany or it was limited to “you can’t kill Zuko”? Do you think Ozai abused her, or was just unloving? Maybe he saw no purpose to abusing her, unlike the kids

Ah, Ursa headcanons. Everyone’s got a set. For me, though, it was less about headcanon than it was about trying to solve the mystery I thought the AtLA cartoon had been setting up. Since ‘The Search’ revealed that there were no real answers to be had, I’ve speculated a bit on what I’d like to see, but I haven’t done much with those ideas since they by their nature contradict canon.

So, my Ursa...

A noble by birth, with her relation to Roku known but not discussed. Sozin and Azulon could have very easily made a pariah out of the family by simply ignoring them and allowing the rest of Fire Nation society antagonize them in a display of performative loyalty. However, Sozin instead reached out to Roku’s family, explaining that Roku was a traitor but surely his family is loyal to the crown and looking to prove it to avoid any unpleasantness. They agreed, and so Roku’s family became almost entirely dependent on the Fire Lord’s goodwill and protection. The one alliance they maintained for themselves was with the Fire Sages, as the family had been honored by them for producing the Avatar, even after Roku and Sozin had their falling out. Sozin had been politically pressuring the Sages throughout his life, trying to make them a tool of the crown, and the Sages in turn maintained good relations with Roku’s family to try to keep some independence. Quite a few of Roku’s family had even become Sages, over the decades.

(This didn’t really work, but it left enough ‘good’ Sages in the organization that when Zuko becomes Fire Lord, he doesn’t have to disband the whole organization, just purge the leadership who had been tools of his father. It very much helps that he’s a distant relation to a lot of these better sages, and that is one of the few smooth elements of his first few years in power.)

When Azulon suggested that the youngest daughter, however, would make a good match for Ozai instead of wasting her life in some dusty temple, they readily agreed and handed her over. Ursa herself was fine with this, as she appreciated the Royal Family’s protection as much as the rest of her clan, and preferred noble society anyway. Plus, back then Ozai made an effort to be charming. Ursa herself was happy as a Fire Nation heiress, and was known to argue passionately about the need to liberate the poor oppressed women of the Water Tribes, who were owned as property by their husbands! My Ursa was a Firebender, and had trained at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, but the strength of her flames was never matched by her skill or technique. She just never had the stomach for duels or fighting, hence leaning more towards a scholarly education and perhaps a future as a Sage. But getting to be a princess is even better, especially since the war would probably be over soon. She could help raise the Prince(ss) Governors who would rule over the colonies, influencing the world for the better. And she also found Ozai very attractive. Rawr!

Ozai himself I consider to have always been narcissistic jerk. When he was a kid and young teen, this was readily apparent. As he moved into adulthood, he learned how to hide it behind a facade, but more discerning folks could tell that he was just using friendliness and flattery to win allies. Ursa, sadly, was not that perceptive, so she rather liked Ozai, even into the first few years of the marriage.

Then Zuko came along.

Ozai was consistently disappointed in Zuko, and he blamed Ursa for that. He wasn’t a full-on monster to her, and never laid a hand on her, but he no longer went to the effort of charming her. Ursa managed to fool herself about this, making excuses for Ozai’s behavior even as their marriage cooled. She managed to stick it out long enough to produce Azula, which initially placated Ozai. Azula was everything Zuko was not. However, this did not save the marriage, because Ozai now had what he wanted, and saw no further need for Ursa. Again, he didn’t bully her, but he made no effort to hide his lack of real interest in her. The marriage was soon in name only, with little interaction between them. Ursa began to see Ozai for what he was, especially with his treatment of Zuko, and began to fear the influence he was having on Azula. This distance did help shield her as Ozai grew crueler and more of a bully as his efforts gain power were thwarted by his clumsiness. The palace and Caldera City are big enough that Ursa was able to avoid him most of the time, and they never shared a suite unless actively trying to have children, even early in the marriage.

However, there was little else Ursa could do. Ozai was not favored by Azulon, but challenging the authority of anyone in the Royal Family would have brought swift and terrible reprisal. Ursa tried to shield Zuko as best she could, and continued to play the part of Wife and Princess in official appearances like social gatherings or audiences with the Fire Lord. She sometimes went over the line in trying to protect her children, which Ozai would punish with cruelties, to the point of mental and emotional abuse, and sometimes physical intimidation, but he was too careful (so far) to risk his reputation by attacking his wife. For that, Iroh was indirectly the one to thank, as he had been a loving family man before the death of his wife, which Azulon approved of, and Ozai was trying to look better than his brother in the eyes of their father.

It all eventually came to a head in events portrayed in the flashbacks of ‘Zuko Alone.’ I headcanon that Ursa outright stabbed Azulon to death, to the point where she ruined a good set of her clothes with bloodstains. And then she confessed her crime to the Crimson Guard and Fire Sages. She should have been put to death for treason and murder, and she was prepared for that, but she and Ozai had concocted a better scheme. Ursa called in every favor her family had earned from the Sages to talk to the leadership in the middle of the night. She and Ozai pointed out that Iroh had taken a dim view of the corruption of the Sages and had battled them politically, and told them bluntly that Ozai was their best bet for surviving as an organization. They suggested the Sages should lie about Azulon’s last wishes and pronounce Ozai as the next Fire Lord. In exchange, Ozai would merely banish Ursa as failure of a wife and cover up her crime, so that her family would not have to suffer shame or even outright execution for producing a regicidal traitor. No one would speak of what had happened, no one would get in trouble, and Ozai would be Fire Lord and keep the current system running smoothly. Everyone agreed.

I always figured that Ursa had to have been banished, because in the scene where she says goodbye to Zuko, she’s wearing a dark hooded cloak. That’s universal visual language for “This character is fleeing into the night.”

I also assumed that everyone (important) knew Azulon had been murdered because of the fishy way Ozai was made Fire Lord by the Sages. Even if they believed Azulon had died of natural causes, where did it come from that he had named Ozai as the new crown prince shortly before his death? I doubt a forged note that no one had ever seen before the night of the guy’s death would be considered very reliable. So I thought there had to be a conspiracy that included the Sages; they were at least in on faking Ozai’s claim, and so why wouldn’t they also be in on the murder? And once all the people in power are perpetrating a conspiracy, the evidence doesn’t matter; the truth becomes whatever they want it to be.

Where Ursa goes after that, though, is a lot more nebulous. The way the cartoon finale had Zuko confront Ozai with, “Where- is- my- mother?” implies that Ozai might actually know, or at least have an idea where to start looking. I also think it would cheapen the power of that scene to have Ozai wiggle out of giving any information. So Ozai has to give Zuko something to go on there, but he also said, “Perhaps,” when Zuko asked during the Day of Black Sun if Ursa lives. So I figure Ursa had to have been banished from the Fire Nation, and Ozai knows either where she left from or her initial destination, but nothing else.

I never formed a solid headcanon about whether Ursa is still alive, though. This is the point where my interest ends, since the comics gave us a completely different Ursa character and mystery, and I expect many Avatar fans are interested in fic that outright contradicts canon. If she lives, I think it would be more interesting if she is indeed a typical Fire Nation imperialist, but I don’t think she would actively oppose Zuko’s agenda. It would simply inform their dynamic and create conflict between them. It would be a new challenge for Zuko to overcome in terms of his family. And it might even be a vector for Azula and Ursa to hash out their problems, with Ursa considering that she might almost prefer Azula to have become Fire Lord. But ultimately, Ursa could realize that Azula’s ways are only destructive, and see that the kindness she always liked in Zuko has to extend to all people of the world, not just the Fire Nation.

But there’s also a compelling story in Ursa being dead by the time Zuko tracks her down. Perhaps she died in the war, somehow. Whether Ursa is a racist or not doesn’t matter as much in this scenario. But It could fuel Zuko’s desire to somehow reconcile with Azula, since there’s nothing else from his past that he can save.

So that’s the stuff I came up with.

[seatosomert]

Lighting.

So what do all these images here have in common?

Please indulge me and take a few minutes to study them.

What do you think now you've studied them?

The answer is that they've all been shot using auxiliary lighting. In other words I've used a light source in addition to the natural ambient light available.

Now, this post isn't going to be about what kit to use. There are plenty of other people out there producing all kinds of videos with different opinions. Some are brand affiliated, some are not.

So I'll leave that to those guys who are already doing a great job of it.

I want to talk to you about utilising available light and portable light sources, what I personally use and why.

Forgive me but I won't say if one thing is better than another etc. Every situation is different and you all have different shooting styles and have varying levels of desire as to the amount of kit that you want to carry.

What I will say is that in EVERY image here I have used a Speedlight, or several speedlites.

So what's a Speedlight? It's not a daft question guys. For years I called them Flash guns. It's a term I picked up from my Dad when he started teaching me to use a 35mm film SLR 27 years ago.

The correct term these days is speedlite and in fact it's a more accurate name for its actual use.

It is essentially a high powered light source that is quick (speedy) to use. That's it.

Now there is lots of technical stuff out there about Guide Numbers (GN) etc, which determine a speedlites power at a given aperture and ISO etc. It's very technical and if I am honest until about five years ago I never fully understood all that stuff until I paid to attend a course with the late, great Andrew Appleton.

You don't really need to know all that to be fair.

What I really benefitted from learning about speedlites is just how convenient they are, how to modify the light from them and how to improvise with objects and materials around you.

I always carry a mini speedlite with me for Sony cameras or a full size one if I'm carrying my Canon DSLR.

The mini one for the Sony's is almost half the size of the Full size one for my Canon and so it's ultra portable, only takes two AA batteries that you can buy pretty much anywhere and it's fairly powerful for its size, giving just over half the power of its full size sibling.

I carry only the one for my hobby Photography.

I like to travel light. So being able to utilise what there is around me is super important. I don't want to be carrying large softboxes or lighting stands when I'm walking around London shooting street, and not do I want to stand out with mahoosive full size speedlite attached to my camera.

I knew many years ago when I started out learning about this amazing hobby of Photography that the more I could learn about light, how it behaves, how to modify it and how to actually see what the light is doing, the more skilled I would become at getting the type of images that I was previsualising in my head.

The speedlites I use all come with a little stand so they can sit on most surfaces on their own. Two of the four that I own can transmit wirelessly to the other Speedlights, and trigger them to fire at the same time, even though they are different brands.

That's super useful to me.

In the wedding shots here, the shot with the guy holding the beer with his wife almost looking on with a little disapproval at his antics, I used two speedlites with shoot through umbrellas hidden in the trees. I had a speedlite on camera also which fired and triggered the other two simultaneously.

I went to that trouble because it was a wedding.

Same with the indoor cake cutting and first dance shots on the other wedding. I used three speedlites here.

But instead of using softboxes or umbrellas I popped the Speedlights on their little included feet/stands and angled the heads accordingly to utilise the reflective surfaces around them to give a flattering light that would also provide fine detail in the finished images. This allowed me to move around the whole area of the dance floor as I shot and I was confident that the lighting was going to work wherever I was within a certain area.

The karaoke shot was very similar. I used three Speedlights, one on camera 2 off camera on their little stands.

The single model shots were using large softboxes on lighting stands with Speedlights.

With the exception of two of these images.

The guy was shot with one speedlite bounced off of a wall behind me and the one of the lady with the white knitted top on (my wife actually) was a single speedlite again, bounced off of a white cotton bed sheet would you believe?

I am always experimenting with light. I love to try new things and I'll often limit the kit I carry or use for a shot to push myself to operate outside of my comfort zone by having to improvise and often very quickly. Especially with events such as weddings. Everything just happens around you at weddings but it's my job to stay switched on to what's happening and get the all important shots that you have just one chance to get right.

I love it. It's why even though I have scaled down my wedding photography as I move more towards B2B Photography, I'll always shoot a few weddings a year as it keeps my skill levels really high.

They're the most challenging work I do.

I don't just use Speedlights. I have access to a studio that a friend runs and I also have my own studio lights that run from mains or a portable battery pack.

They are only used for specific types of work where I need more power than Speedlights can give and where I want to totally control all the light.

I also have some continuous LED lighting which I mainly use for video, but one of them in particular is made by a great UK lighting brand, is circular and very portable and allows me to adjust the colour temperature (I can change the light colour basically) and it has variable power. It's also runs from AA batteries. It also has lighting special effects like police lights, television flickering lights and fire light. It can also be used as a strobe and so will act the same way as a Speedlight but doesn't need a recharge time between each shot like Speedlights do.

If you have been shooting natural light only and you're wanting to develop into an All Light photographer, consider some of the options here, but also get yourself a 5 in 1 pop up reflector. They're super versatile and easy to carry.

I took time out to really study light and how to reflect, shape, diffuse and cut down light. That was the single most important aspect of Photography that I've ever learned and I continue to learn as new options become available and there are some outstanding photographers out there who really know how to manipulate light to their advantage and produce amazing art.

That's it for now guys.

Hopefully this post has given you food for thought.

If you have any questions, do the usual and fire me a comment or message and I'll answer them where I can.

Keep at learning and practising guys. Your time, consistency and determination will reward you ten fold if you do.

Lastly, consider liking if you did like this post, giving me some constructive and helpful feedback if you didn't and don't forget to follow my Tumblr feed for more posts and content.

Enjoy the UK weather if you're here right now and speak soon.

Kind regards,

Neil.

[companionjones]

Friends Made Along The Way

Requested by: @damedevon

Request: This is the second request in case you don't want to do the first one :)  NCIS universe: Reader, genius level IQ that is a talented artist (painting, sculpting, all the things) is brought in to consult on a case. (S)he meets Spencer and they hit it off, talking about cultured literature and time period specific art and history.

Fandoms: NCIS, Criminal Minds

Pairings: Spencer Reid x NCISAgent!Reader, Platonic!BAU Team x NCISAgent!Reader, Platonic!NCIS Team x NCISAgent!Reader, Specifically Platonic!Gibbs x NCISAgent!Reader

Warnings: Extreme descriptions of blood and gore

Author’s Note: This takes place around season 5 for both NCIS and Criminal Minds. Idk if that lines up chronologically, sorry if it doesn’t.

*******

    “We got a case,” informed Gibbs as he headed to his desk for his gun and badge.

    Yourself and the rest of your team moved to gather your individual things and meet in the elevator.

    Gibbs gave more details about the case. “A former marine was found dead outside a Cheesy Cheese.”

    Timothy McGee asked, awkwardly, “Uh, Boss? Don’t you mean Chuck E. Cheese?”

    “Does it look like I know the difference, McGee?” Gibbs returned.

    The younger agent was clearly uncomfortable. “No, Boss. It’s just...I didn’t--”

    Ziva’s voice was as sly as ever. “It’s best to stop now, McGee.”

    As you headed out of the bull-pen, you opened your mouth to say something.

    DiNozzo cut you off instead. “L/n, I swear to God, if you make one more Shakespeare reference today, Ziva’s driving to the crime scene.”

    “Tony,” you rolled your eyes, “How could I possibly make a reference to the Bard from this?”

    All DiNozzo had to do was give you a look.

    “Fine, I’ll shut up,” you sighed, exiting your team’s area.

    Abruptly, Gibbs turned and stopped you. “Not you.”

    “What?” You were shocked.

    Gibbs gruffly explained, “Fornell called. Apparently, a friend of his wants you on his case. It’s ten miles out.”

    Forgetting your usual respect for your superior, you groaned.

    Again, all it took was a look.

    “Yes, sir,” you childishly agreed.

***

    “Excuse me, Agent Aaron Hotchner?” I’m Agent Y/n L/n, from NCIS.” You stuck your hand out when the man confirmed his name.

    He took your offer, and shook your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry it had to be under these circumstances.” The senior FBI agent spent the following few minutes explaining the details of the case to you.

    So far, three murders had been committed. The odd thing about the murders was that the killer was recreating paintings by an artist from the 1800s by posing the victims how the muses were posed in certain paintings. You had read about the strange murders in the paper.

    “Gustave Courbet,” you named the original artist. “I realized that after the first murder. I didn’t think it was going to take you guys this long to figure it out.”

    Hotchner knew not to take your words personally. “That’s why we called you in. We need an expert on Courbet on this case.” He noticed an agent from his team walking up to where the two of you were in the living room of the apartment/crime scene. “This is Dr. Reid. He’s the one on our team who recognized the pattern in the first place.”

    The younger man greeted you by giving you his first name. “Spencer.” He then admitted, “I don't shake hands.”

    “Oh, okay. Call me Y/n,” you politely offered.

    Another agent was making his way to the three of you. Two female agents and an older male agent were trailing behind him.

    The darker-skinned agent smiled. “We’re very proud of our Dr. Reid, here. Kid has an IQ of 187.”

    “You’ve got me beat, then,” you admitted, turning back to Dr. Reid. “My score is 186.”

    Everyone seemed pretty blown away by that. You could tell it was rare that the team came across anyone that was as smart as their resident genius.

    You never liked the term ‘genius,’ especially when it was used on you. On the contrary, you mostly kept your skills under the radar. Except for a few literary references here and there, you rarely talked about your smarts. Actually, you never really got the chance to.

    The rest of the agents on the team introduced themselves, and Hotch explained, “We’re the BAU at the FBI. It stands for--”

    “Behavioral Analysis Unit. I know. But here’s an acronym you guys probably don’t know-NCIS. It’s where I work.”

    Hotch obviously knew what it meant. He was the one who called you in. You got a marine vibe from Rossi, so he probably knew, too. They weren’t the kind of men to just blurt out the answer, however. The rest of the team seemed to be having trouble with the acronym.

    Spencer was different. “Naval Criminal Investigative Service,” he said almost immediately.

    “Good! It’s rare someone just knows that. I’m assuming you don’t have any prior connections...Maybe you do know what you’re talking about.”

    You noticed a prolonged look Agent Morgan gave Spencer. Spencer furrowed his eyebrows, and moved his gaze elsewhere. You didn’t understand the exchange.

    Hotchner began, “Okay,. Now that introductions are out of the way, we were hoping you could take a look at this crime scene.”

    Two minutes later, you were two inches away from a body. The poor woman was a hunched over in a chair. She was a brunette, and looked to weigh about 200 pounds. Like the other victims, she was dressed in middle class mid-1800s clothing. The chair she was in was next to a spindle. She had some raw wool wrapped around a distaff sitting on her lap. You swallowed hard when the thought crossed your mind that it almost seemed like she was sleeping.

    Agent Jareau (she preferred the nickname JJ) informed you, “She was found early this morning by a mother and daughter returning from a trip. This apartment is theirs. They don’t own a spinning wheel.”

    Rossi continued, “We got a positive I.D., her name is Suzanne Welling. No relation to the family that live here.”

    “I hope the daughter is young. There’s more of a chance of her forgetting this tragedy when she gets older,” you quickly added that last part when you realized how harsh you sounded. You never broke your studying of the remains.

    JJ confirmed, “The girl’s 4 years old.” It was a tone you could tell clearly was a mother’s. You wondered how many kids she had. You also hoped your words weren’t too harsh.

    “The painting this is based on is The Sleeping Spinner, painted in 1853. It looks like he’s going in chronological order.” You dragged your index finger over your bottom lip. It was a thinking habit you had.

    Emily Prentiss, the other female agent on the team, inquired, “Why do you think he’s male?”

    “The first painting--er...murder.” You straightened up onto your feet. “The Wounded Man, originally painted in 1844. It’s a self-portrait. A lot of Courbet’s early works were. The killer sees himself as Courbet. The first muse--victim probably looks like the murderer.”

    A new voice entered the room. “Unsub.” It was Spencer. “Unknown suspect. We call our suspects unsubs. You can, too...if you want to.”

    “...Unsub.” You smiled slightly while you tested out the name for Spencer.

    He expressed the same sentiment to you.

    The rest of the day was spent working the case. It was explained to you that the team would usually split up with some of them heading to the local police department when first arriving for an assignment. It was just how things worked out in that particular instance that the whole team went straight to the crime scene.

    Soon enough, you found out Spencer was the agent who spent most of his time in the local police stations. You were the agent who spent most of your time with Spencer.

    “What’re you up to, Agent Reid?” you asked with a somewhat playful tone.

    He had been pinning a map to the board you and the BAU team had borrowed for the case. He started marking it up. “I’m making a geological profile of the area. We usually see if the locations of the crime scenes give us any clues to where the unsub is living or where he might kill next.”

    “At NCIS, we do the same thing to see if we can find out where the killer lives--”

    Spencer distractedly corrected you, “Unsub.”

    “Unsub. But we don’t really have cases where we have to predict where the unsub may strike next.”

    The young FBI agent reasoned, “It’s crazy, but you get used to it. Soon, it’s just another part of life.”

    “I don’t think I would want to get used to this kind of stuff.” You couldn’t help your mind from drifting to the deceivingly peaceful form you had observed earlier that day.

    For a moment, Spencer stopped his efficient actions. He was thinking. “... ‘Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me. The Carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality.’ Emily Dickinson.”

    “She looked at death like it was such a peaceful thing. Like it was a new beginning.” Your tone was more bittersweet than you had ever heard it sound.

    He turned toward you. Spencer headed for a seat next to yours at the conference room table. “Maybe that’s what it is: just another part of life.”

   “We investigate death everyday...but we never talk about what comes after.”

    The young man smirked slightly, “They obsessed over it enough in the 1800s. Is there even a need to think too much about it anymore?”

    Surprisingly, that got you to laugh. You and Spencer Reid sat there in the conference room, laughing about your elders’ morbid curiosities.

***

    “Happy Monday,” you greeted as you descended the stairs into the basement.

    Gibbs looked up from his fifth boat-in-progress. “Happy Monday, L/n.”

    Similar to everyone else on the team, Gibbs had a unique relationship with you. You hadn’t known Gibbs as long as he’d known Ducky, but the two of you were very close. However, you didn’t think you’d ever be as important to him as Abby.

    Anyway, you and Gibbs had a standing arrangement for dinner every Monday night. It was never anything fancy, nothing with Gibbs ever was. Dinner with the senior agent usually consisted of two orders of Chinese food in his basement.

    “Making slow progress with this one, aren’t you?” you questioned, referring to Gibbs’ latest woodwork.

    He responded, “Doesn’t matter how long it takes, as long as it’s done right.”

    “Yes, sir,” you chuckled. You pulled out the meals while Gibbs set up a makeshift table and chairs.

    About ten minutes later, your boss interrupted what you though was your usual, comfortable silence. “You seem preoccupied.”

    “I am,” you admitted, “It’s the FBI case.”

    He looked you over, then went back to eating. Then, Gibbs easily stated, “It’s not just that.”

    You stared at him hard, trying to come up with something else to say besides the truth. You sighed and repeated him, “It’s not just that, but this isn’t your area of expertise.”

    Once more, all it took was a look.

    “It’s a guy, Gibbs. A cute, kind, and smart guy.” You met his gaze because you expected that that would be enough for him to back off.

    Jarringly (for you, anyway), Gibbs didn’t give up. He continued to stare is Gibbs stare right into your soul.

    “Agent Spencer Reid,” you gave in, revealing the boy’s name. “Has a higher IQ than me...Eh, he has 187. I have--”

    He gave your score for you, “186.”

    “So, it doesn’t really count.”

    Gibbs chuckled, then agreed, “No, it doesn’t.”

    After about an hour, dinner was done. You headed home, but not before mulling over the fact that you had just talked romance with Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Maybe you were closer with him than you had previously thought.

***

    The next morning, you were woken up at 5 A.M. with a phone call from Hotch. At first, you were concerned as to why you weren't notified earlier. You launched out of bed and began to quickly get dressed. Hotch grew hesitant. He didn't seem to want you to go to the crime scene. You didn’t know why. You insisted that you were a federal agent just as he was, and that you had every right to be at any crime scene that had to do with a case you were legally working.

    On your way to where the BAU was, you continued to think about the team. They apparently took you in as one of their own after just one day of working with you. It reminded you of your connections with your almost-family at NCIS. You didn’t mind it, and you were actually warming up to the idea. The only thing you had a problem with was when it interfered with your job. Hotch did that when he tried to keep you from a crime scene. You knew he was trying to protect you, but you were wondering from what.

    The newest crime scene was an abandoned warehouse. Spencer was standing outside, on the phone with someone as you pulled up. When you got out of your car, he handed the phone to Agent Morgan.

    Morgan smiled to himself as he walked away. “Baby, how you always bring such beautiful light in this world is beyond me...Love you, sweetheart.”

    “Who was that on the phone?” you inquired.

    Spencer answered, “Penelope Garcia...Our technical analyst.”

    “Co-workers are allowed to date each other on your side?”

    That last question made him smile. “Nope. And they’re not dating.”

    “...Huh.”

    “Huh indeed.”

    Sighing, you then cracked your neck. “Alright. In we go.” You brushed around Spencer and headed toward the entrance of the warehouse.

    You were surprised when Spencer took hold of your shoulders and stepped back in front of you.

    He seemed as concerned as Hotchner, if not more. “Listen, Y/n. Remember that conversation we had yesterday? You said that you didn’t think you ever wanted to get used to the death that we see. Y/n, there’s a lot of death in there.”

    “No one in this hemisphere can tell you what the unsub is aiming for in there besides me. If we catch this guy, it’ll save everyone from more death than what could be in there.”

    Still, Spencer didn’t let you go.

    “...Please, Spencer.”

    The boy gave you a look that reminded you of a puppy. He stepped aside.

    A few steps later, you were inside. Turns out, a few steps were all you could take. Fifteen people. Three of them were children. It was a long time before you were able to breathe again.

    When you did take a breath, JJ and Emily were at your side. Not that you were complaining. You would need someone to steady you if your knees buckled.

    Hotch came up to the three of you. “This is why I didn’t want you coming here, L/n.”

    “...I’ve never seen a massacre like this...” You still weren’t sure you could remain on your feet.

    Rossi approached. “Do you need to leave for a second?”

    “The Preparation of a Dead Girl...and/or Wife...all the public knows is that it was released sometime in the 1850s,” you slowly breathed out the words after you swallowed. With your knees shaking, you made your way closer to the scene. “He put rods in them to pose them correctly compared to the painting...They were still alive when he put the rods in place.”

    It was hard for you to understand how, but you made it through the rest of the day. Everyone in the BAU could obviously tell you continued to be affected by the most recent crime scene, and you hated that they were all walking on eggshells around you. The bottom line was that you didn’t let it affect your job, and you didn’t see why everyone was treating you differently. Okay, maybe you did see why. It was the same reason why Gibbs let Abby ramble on about the little things sometimes. Family. You were already part of the BAU’s family.

***

    Later that night, you were back home. Your apartment was small, but you didn’t mind. You still found a way to fit all the books and art supplies you wanted in your home.

    There was a knock at your door.

    “Hiya, Spencer,” you softly greeted. You left your door open for him to enter through. You returned to your seat at your pottery wheel. “I hope you don’t mind if I keep working on this while you’re here. It centers me.” You got quieter. “...It calms me down.”

    For a moment, Spencer was silent. “How long have you been in the field?” His question was gentle, unaccusing.

    “Do people get annoyed when you profile them in social situations, Dr. Reid?” Your tone didn’t hold any malice, either.

    He smirked, “All the time.”

    It was your turn to be silent as you resolved to answer Spencer’s question. “Gibbs and I first met when he and his team were working a case at the University I taught at. He came to see me for some time after that. Most of the time it was to use my intellect on other cases he was working...I’m quite proud to say I was one of the few friends he had outside of the agency. Well, until I joined the agency.” You paused as you chuckled. “He recruited me back in ‘03, and I’ve been with the team ever since.”

    Spencer waited. He could tell you weren’t finished.

    “Only...,” you sighed, accepting that you couldn’t hide the following fact from him. “I’ve only been allowed at crime scenes for about a year or so. Gibbs is fiercely protective of me, and it took me years to get him to let me into the field...Man, I hope he doesn’t find out I acted today. He would never let me see a dead body again...not even in Ducky’s autopsy.” You said that last part more to yourself.

    He smiled at you from his chair. “I think you acted perfectly fine today, Y/n.”

    “Betcha Agent Rossi didn’t think so,” you chuckled, “He was read to dodge my vomit when I showed up today.” You stopped talking for a moment when your mind jumped back to the bloody warehouse. “...Your team doesn’t think I’m fit to be in the field.”

    Spencer almost matter-of-factly stated, “They don’t think that.”

    “Well, what do they think?” The vase you had been working on was thrown off balance on the pottery wheel. You set to work fixing it.

    The male agent never moved his eyes from you. “They care about you, Y/n...I do, too.”

    You were thankful you had your craft to focus on, it helped you hide your smile. “I know that, Spencer...I know that.”

    Spencer stayed for the next few hours. Nothing physical happened. You eventually put away your pottery and broke out some wine. The two of you spent the night talking about arts, literature, and maybe other things that the two of you needed to discuss.

***

    The following day, you made it to the local police station by 7 A.M. You first stop was the conference room where Spencer was already studying the map as closely as the last time the two of you had been in that room.

    “Did you even sleep last night?” You inquired as you set your things down in one of the chairs.

    As expected, Spencer barely glanced in your direction as you found a seat for yourself. He was already too immersed in his work. “I actually kind of slept in today...I have you and Walt Whitman to thank for that.” Surprising you, Spencer glanced over his shoulder and caught your gaze.

    His inside joke got you to throw your head back in laughter. “Alright, Spencer. Here’s what I want you to do.” You hurled yourself out of your chair, and moved to stand next to the young agent. “I want you to explain this map to me. You don’t even have a key for it.”

    Spencer shrugged, “It’s easy enough. These are parks, these are obviously areas of water, and this right here is a Chuck E. Cheese, so these marks mean places entertainment--”

    “What?”

    He pointed to a part of the map that was less than five blocks away from the second crime scene. “This mark right here is a Chuck E. Cheese. Which means--”

    “No Spencer, you don’t understand. NCIS had a body at a Chuck E. Cheese. There can’t be too many of these in this area. This is very close to the second crime scene, but not close enough that it would make sense for the unsub to still be on foot. What if the unsub was walking home and the former marine saw the weapon? The unsub has used the same gun in every killing. He would have to take it home with him. The unsub could live in this area!” You drew a circle with your finger of a quarter mile radius around the second crime scene.

    Spencer didn’t agree. “I don’t know, Y/n. All of this seems highly circumstantial. Couldn’t this all be a coincidence?”

    “There are no such thing as coincidences,” you shook your head.

    It was enough to get Gibbs and the rest of the team to work with the BAU on the case. Within the hour, most of your NCIS family were present in the local police department.

    Hotch greeted Gibbs with a handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Agent Gibbs. I wish it could be under better circumstances.”

    Gibbs nodded, “The feeling is mutual, Agent Hotchner.”

    “Your Agent Y/n has proven to be very impressive.”

    There was a blink-and-you-miss-it twitch of the lips for Gibbs. For half of a moment, he smiled. “That’s why I recruited them.”

    Meanwhile, you were still in the conference room with Spencer. Tony, Ziva, and McGee had joined the two of you. You were explaining the details of he case to your three coworkers.

    As usual, Tony got off topic as soon as he could. “So, Agent Reid” Tony was nose to nose with the uncomfortable FBI agent, “you’re just a hybrid of McGeek and L/n, aren’t you?” He sniffed the air. “I think I smell a bit of Palmer on you as well.”

    Spencer looked anywhere but Tony. “I don’t know who Palmer is.”

    “He’s our medical examiner’s assistant, Spencer,” you clarified, “Tony, what the hell are you doing?”

    Ziva tried to help you out. “Leave the poor kid alone.”

    Suddenly, Gibbs entered the room with Hotch. The rest of the BAU were behind them. Before Tony noticed their presence, Gibbs was already behind the movie expert. Tony received a slap to the back of the head.

    Gibbs leveled voice suggested, “Yeah, Tony. Leave Agent Reid alone.”

    Tony grimaced, “Yes, sir.” As he moved to the conference room table, Tony passed by you. He whispered in your ear in his usual, quick way, “You’ll be the dominate one in the relationship.”

    Naturally, you were mortified by his words. How had he figured out so quickly what was going on between you and Spencer? Was it really that obvious? Was it distracting from the case? You hoped it wasn’t. You glanced around. No one seemed to notice Tony’s exchange with you. Except for maybe Gibbs, whom you could’ve almost sworn that he’d shot a knowing smirk in your direction.

    Hotch directed, “Agent L/n, could you tell everyone what you’ve put together?”

    "NCIS’s victim was murdered less that five blocks away from the BAU’s second crime scene. Eleven of the fifteen victims in the fourth crime scene were taken from the same quarter mile radius.”

    Emily Prentiss added, “All of our earlier victims were from all over the state. Do you think our unsub is devolving in that he can’t wait long enough to go too far to find his victims anymore?”

    “Yes,” you agreed, “It would also explain how Colonel Wilfred, the victim from NCIS connects to the other murders without reflecting any of Courbet’s paintings.”

    JJ, suddenly got a notification on her phone. “There’s been two more reports of missing individuals in the same area. Both were white women in their twenties...about 220 ponds...they look like our second and third victims.” She looked worriedly from her phone to you.

    “The Hammock and The Sleeping Spinner...,” you whispered the second and third crimes to yourself in order. “...He could be going after Young Ladies on the Banks of Seine. It makes sense with his running chronological theme. The reason why they look so alike with the previous victims is because it was rumored Courbet used his sisters for a lot of his portraits. Out unsub might be trying to replicate the likeness in Gustave’s muses.”

    Hotch directed, “Alright. We may have some time to save these two women. Spencer, stick with the geographical profiling. Rossi, Prentiss, canvass Jones Avenue through Tenth Boulevard. JJ, Morgan, take Damien Road through Johnson Street. I’ll stay here and run point.”

    Gibbs instructed his own team, “Y/n, stay here and work with Reid. McGee, Tony: Dischem through Clark. Ziva, you and I will take Harren to Williams.”

    With the whole police department, along with most of Gibbs and Hotch’s team canvassing, it was likely the unsub’s house would be found within the following few hours.

    Meanwhile, you and Spencer were back in the nearly empty police station. The two of you were in separate conference room chairs, and you both were staring at that map. It had delivered an extremely helpful break in the case, but it seemed to have done all it could. Hotch was in another room with the police captain, so you and Spencer were left to your own devices.

    That was, until a secretary came running into the conference room. “Help! We need help!”

    Both you and Spencer launched out of your respective seats.

    “What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, alarmed.

    The secretary elaborated, “A girl called the tip line. She sounds terrified. She claims to be Samantha Hawford, one of--”

    “the missing women,” both you and Spencer finished with the secretary.

    “Connect us, please,” you requested as calmly as you could.

    She silently nodded, and quickly left the room.

    Seconds later, a line lit up on the phone in the conference room. It turned out to actually be Samantha. She was hysterical, but you eventually got her to calm down enough to communicate.

    Earlier, she had stolen the unsub’s phone, and she was waiting for a safe time to call the tip line she had seen a lot on T.V.

    While you encouraged Samantha to keep talking, Spencer called Garcia. She traced the phone call for the two of you.

    A minute later, you knew where Samantha was. You were on your way out with Spencer when Hotch gave you his blessing to go. It was obvious neither you nor Spencer were going to wait for Hotchner’s agreement.

    You and Spencer were able to get to Samantha's location in fifteen minutes. Which was good because five minutes into your journey, the unsub found Samantha and hung up the phone. You prayed the unsub kept her alive long enough for you and Spencer to get there.

    When the two of you did arrive, the unsub was about to stab the other girl with the first metal rod when you and Spencer found them. He had both the girls tied up as he prepared to stab them with the metal rods and shoot them in the heart.

    At first, Spencer tried to talk him down. It was obvious that it was going no where.

    “I can make sure the world knows of your works of art,” you suddenly lied, surprising yourself. “People took pictures of your crime--masterpieces. They could be hung anywhere and everywhere. You could become even more famous than Corbet. But let me tell you: if you hurt these two girls, no one will ever know who you are. Not your name, and not your face.”

    Chillingly, there was hope in the killer’s eyes. As you’d guessed, he looked a lot like Gustave Courbet himself. You could see why he wanted to use Courbet’s image to make himself famous.

    Eventually, you got the killer to turn over his weapons, and turn himself in. You cuffed him yourself. By then, your team, the local police, and the BAU had arrived. You turned the killer over to the local P.D. The two girls were crying as they thanked you profusely for saving them. You tried to push their attention away from you. It didn’t work too well.

    Once all the chaos was over, you were back at the police station, gathering your things.

    Hotch addressed you, making you turn around. “Agent L/n.”

    “Uh...Yes, sir?”

    His whole team was with him. “We would like to thank you for your work on this case.”

    Morgan complimented, “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

    “Oh, I don’t think that’s true,” you reasoned, “I mean, you guys have Spencer. He probably would've figured things out just as fast as me.. Well, almost as fast  as me.”

    Spencer smiled in a way that was contagious. “Don’t try to brush this off, Y/n. You know how important you are.”

    Hotch continued, “That’s actually what we wanted to talk to you about. You’ve shown promising capabilities as a profiler, and we want you to know that there’s a place for you on our team.”

    “Wait. On your guys’ team? In the FBI?” You were nearly in shock. “I...I don’t know what to say.”

    JJ offered, “Well, we would really like it if you agreed.”

    “...I can’t. I’m sorry guys, but NCIS is my home. They’re my family there. I mean, honestly, in these past few days, you guys have kind become my family to, but I don’t think I could leave NCIS. At least not right now.”

    For the first time, you saw Aaron Hotchner truly smile. “It’s alright. The job’s here for you whenever you want it.”

    “Thank you.” You were sincerely grateful.

    Thee rest of the team left, but Spencer hung back.

    “You know,” you sweetly took his hand in yours, ”my not joining has nothing to do with you.”

    He squeezed your hand in his. “I know, but it would’ve been nice to see you more often.”

    “I guess we’re going to have to make it work as is,” you smirked.

    Keeping his gaze on your intertwined hands, Spencer chuckled. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

    Slowly, you leaned in to kiss the boy.

    At first, Spencer kept his hand in yours. Then, he moved both arms around you, pulling you in close.

    Your hands were o his chest, but you soon snaked them around his neck to get lost in his hair.

    Okay, so you were beginning to regret your choice not to join the BAU just a little bit.

***

    Before you went home that night, you went back to NCIS. Spencer had to go back to Quantico to get some paperwork done, so you couldn’t spend the night with him. You decided to go back to NCIS to do the same thing.

    “Y/n! Y/n, Y/n, Y/n!” Right outside the elevator doors, a certain adorable forensic scientist was waiting for you.

    Practically catching the incoming woman, you tried to keep her steady on her feet. “Hi, Abby! How’ve you been?”

    She was almost vibrating with excitement. “I’m completely fine. It’s you I wanna know about! How were Fornell’s friends at the FBI? Were they mean? They treated you nicely, right?” Abby continued on with the onslaught of questions until you got to your desk.

    When you sat down, you looked up to Abby as you searched your mind for a way to tell her you needed quiet right then.

    Gibbs beat you to it. He had been sitting at his desk. You only noticed him when he gathered his few things to leave. He stopped by your desk and explained, “Abby, it’s late and they’re tired. Leave them alone.”

    With a quick, slightly intimidated glance to Gibbs and a “Sorry, Y/n,” and wave to you, Abby was gone.

    However, Gibbs stayed behind a bit longer to knowingly ask, “So, you didn’t take the job, huh?”

    “No,” you tiredly smiled, “I’m staying right here, boss.”

    It was then that Gibbs did something that he very rarely did. He returned a smile. “Good,” was his final statement before Gibbs left for the night.

***

    In the end, you made sure the killer’s name was never released to the public. You didn’t want anything to be given to the distributed criminal mind. However, you knew that some name needed to be given to the person behind the painting-based murders. You just expected it to have something to do with Gustave Courbet himself. You didn’t expect the previously unknown subject to be called The Chuck E. Cheese Killer. The nickname ended a pizza franchise.

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Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it! If you would like to read more, I have more fics over on my page. You should go check it out. Also, REQUESTS ARE OPEN. I take requests for one-shots, multi-chapters, headcannons, and preferences. No smut, please. I write for a variety of fandoms. If you’re wondering if I write for a specific fandom, please ask me. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you.<3

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(Behind the scenes stuff)

Proofreader: @girl-of-many-faces

Crime scene #1 here

Crime scene #2 here

Crime scene #3 here

Crime scene #4 here

What would’ve been crime scene #5 here