#hyperfixation is hyperfixating. who knows where the winds will shift next.

[heynhay]

whats so funny is that you guys have no idea that in a week or two its quite likely ill drop off the face of the earth again. maybe even delete my whole blog. like all the great klance artists.

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Double Trouble

On the twelfth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A Danny x Reader x Josh Tropemas ending!

Christmas Song Pairing: “I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm" by Dean Martin

Trope: Cuddle For Warmth

~~~

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Reader x Josh Kiszka

Warnings: Language, smut, threesome, Josh x Danny content

Words: 4.8k

Author's Note: Well, we stuck to the schedule much better than we did last year, so I count it a win. I feel like I cheated Danny gals out of a solo fic, so I have a second version of cuddle for warmth that I might one day release, who knows. There also might be a little treat for any of my other Sam/Danny pairing lovers out there -- stay tuned.

Most of all, I know there has been a few Josh x Danny x Reader fics written recently, and you should all definitely go check out @streamingcolors-gvf and @tripthelightfandomtastic because they both have some things. I swear this was one of the first fics I wrote for Tropemas and am not in any way trying to ride the waves of their glory (I would drown, their content is too good and almost intimidated me out of posting this but 🤷‍♀️) so I hope you all enjoy the last (official) Tropemas fic!

Cheers to another successful year of Tropemas! 🥂

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

“I told you guys this motel was sketchy as fuck,” you said into total darkness, the already-spotty lamp having shorted out and left you with nothing but the howl of the wind outside that was whistling in from some crack in the window. Not that the boys had really any say in where you’d had to pull off for the night. It was more just to share your misery, since it loves company and all that.

But that wind — you could feel it in your bones. The old heating unit underneath the shitty caulking job stood no chance at combating the chill of the room, and the fact that the sheets on this pull-out couch bed were threadbare and withheld no fucking body heat at all had you shivering in your pajamas. If there were ever a time you wished you’d listened to your friends when they told you that nice, fluffy, matching PJ sets were the best, it was now. But you ran hot when you slept – not that it mattered when it was -15 degrees outside and a balmy 5 inside.

“I wonder if Jake and Sam have it any better,” Josh said softly from the bed. When flipping coins, you’d unfortunately come up with tails, meaning that the master suite would not be yours for the night when you were forced to pull the van into a horror-movie motel to avoid killing all five of you on black ice. You were so close to the cabin the boys had booked, too – so close – but the ice storm had rolled in just as the sun went down, and you, along with several other drivers, apparently, had to make due with the rooms available at Cockroach Central. 

Jake and Sam in the single Queen, and you, Josh, and Danny in this crappy ‘Queen sized with a pull out couch’ icebox.

“I doubt it,” Danny sighed, voice deep with interrupted sleep.

You weren’t surprised that he’d found the ability to sleep, even with the ice hitting the windowpane and your breath crystallizing in the air; he always had that ability, Danny. But as another gust of icy wind shook the windows, and you felt the subsequent cool air permeate your already-cold cocoon, you let out a barely audible whimper-groan.

You didn’t think it was loud enough for the boys to hear, but apparently you were underestimating how small the room was. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

The next noise that came out of your mouth was frustrated, and it wasn’t directed at Josh for asking, but you’d taken the last shift driving and you were exhausted, except now it didn’t seem as if you’d be getting any sleep at all. “I’m freezing,” you admitted, and you heard immediate shuffling from the bed.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Danny asked from above. “Come over here and get warm, dummy.”

But you hesitated. You knew that the boys would give you the shirt off their back if you asked for it, but you didn’t want them to sacrifice their own comfort and sleep for you – it was one night, after all, and they had been cooped up in the van just as long as you had. “I mean…is there even room up there?” you asked, still sorely tempted to join them, despite your pause. “I don’t want to kick you guys out of bed.”

“We’ll make it work,” came Josh’s voice next. “We grew up shoving as many people in a bed as we could, Y/N, come on.”

And, well, twist your arm. You pushed your thin blankets off and scurried over to the bigger bed, which had a mattress that retained heat and two other bodies to contribute to the task of keeping you warm. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned blissfully, teeth still chattering as you settled into the space between them that they made, citing ‘maximum warmth’ when you’d told them you’d be fine taking the edge. “If I’d known you guys were living space heaters, we’d have been sharing a bed from the start.” 

Josh’s hand crept over your hip from where he’d instantly wound himself around you under the blankets. The cuddling wasn’t new — Josh was a tactile person on his worst days, and a cuddle buddy was a cuddle buddy. But the way he was vigorously rubbing his hand up and down your body was ruffling your sleep shirt, Danny, on just the other side of you, was going to be pressed against exposed skin if he didn’t stop soon.  “Shit, Y/N– even your pajamas are cold.”

“I know,” you sighed, smacking your lips together in contentment. If you’d been a cat, it would’ve been a purr as you began to feel your feet again. “I’ve been shivering in them since we got here.”

Not to be left out, Danny crossed one big hand over Josh’s arm to feel for himself, and your breath stuttered a bit. It wasn’t as if you were immune to their talent and good spirits, and you had eyes — you knew your friends were an attractive bunch. But you never let your fantasies run too amuck; you were an avid sleep talker, and you’d never recover if something slipped out while your dreams took you places you dared not think about during the day.

Places like here, plastered against both Josh and Danny while they warmed you up. Perhaps not in the way you wanted in your limited fantasies, but you were nevertheless in bed with them, their hands all over your body. You hummed at the contact, shifting your shoulders to shake some of the energy they brought with their touch off.

“Why’d you wait so long to tell us you were cold?” Danny asked, lips so close to your ear he barely had to murmur for you to hear. That distance was soon made even scarcer, as Danny tugged Josh closer on your other side so that you were all three a mess of tangled limbs, cuddling to keep every ounce of warmth between you.

You shrugged with the space you did have, and tried to turn on your side towards Danny, your ass already becoming numb. You were a side sleeper, anyways, so you’d end up in that position regardless. The two men adjusted with you, Josh pushing forward to melt against your back while Danny pushed back and let you get comfortable before assuming his position again, nearly brushing your nose with his. 

At this point, you were glad the lights had shorted out, because at least there was a chance Danny didn’t notice either your blush or your surprise that he’d rebounded back in so close. You had no choice but to ball up your hands and let them rest against his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths from the front, and Josh’s from your back. 

“Um…I told you. I didn’t know if there would be enough space.”

Josh chuckled against the back of your neck, making you shiver – but this time, not from the cold. “Well, here’s your proof. There’s always room for you, Y/N.”

“Good to know,” you squeaked, growing embarrassed at how much just the simple pressure of their bodies against yours was making you wet. You knew you couldn’t blame yourself – it’d been a few days since you were alone enough to get yourself off, and this was the first time you’d been in an actual bed since you’d left for this spontaneous cabin getaway with the boys. And when you were in a bed, your body demanded orgasms; it was something of a Pavlovian response at this point.

Now you’d be tired and horny in the morning, but at least you wouldn’t be cold. Although you were beginning to question which was worse.

Danny’s lips quirked up, and you squeezed your eyes shut. He’d most certainly heard the change in pitch of your voice, and you felt a chuckle rumble shake his chest and escape as a breath through his nose. “That was cute,” he breathed. “Is there something the matter?”

Josh’s hips shifted back, and his lips were at your ear, next. “He’s right. I can feel your heartbeat from your back, Y/N. What’s going on?” His words had turned sultry in a matter of seconds, and your face burned, feeling a little foolish for thinking that they wouldn’t be able to feel what they were doing to you in their proximity. 

Although, the response other than a serious ribbing from the both of them was unexpected. You’d have expected them to make fun of you, not do…whatever this was. Unless this was their way of teasing you (not in the good way). “Fuck you guys,” you mumbled. It was a cruel joke either way, and you were beginning to wish that you’d just layered up and stayed in that stupid pull-out bed.

Danny caught your chin with the knuckle of his pointer finger, and tipped your face up to his. “Oh yeah? Is that what you want?”

Every function screeched to a halt, and you couldn’t find the words to answer. 

They were serious? This wasn’t a joke? They wanted to fuck you – together, in the same bed – just because they’d felt your heartrate pick up a bit and your breathing become uneven?

Josh rolled his hips into you again, and you were suddenly made aware that he was hard in his flannel pants. Hard and warm against your ass, in such a good way that you couldn’t help but press back into him. You were rewarded with a small groan and the feeling of his fingers tightening on your hips. “Shit, Y/N. Don’t do that unless you’re gonna answer Danny.”

“I…yes?”

“Yes? Like, a question? Or, ‘yes,’ for sure?”

The situation was evolving very quickly, but you must have been hornier than you imagined you’d be, because it was difficult to find reasons to decline their generous offer. “For sure,” you said, tucking your lip between your teeth as you waited on baited breath to find out what that answer would bring.

Like racehorses let out of the gate, the response was whip-quick, and you gasped as that lip you’d held captive was dragged from its place by Danny’s mouth, and Josh groaned, “Oh thank god,” before tugging your hips back into his erection. “You’ve got us wrapped around your finger, Y/N, you had to have known what your little noises would do to us.”

“Little noises?” you gasped out, hand reaching up to tangle in Danny’s wild curls as he began to nip across your jaw. “You mean…normal ones?”

Danny pulled back, and his absence was missed, but the sight of him shucking his shirt off was a welcome one. “Caught,” he said with a smirk. “It’s just you. You drive us crazy, no matter what you do or where you do it.”

The sentiment was cheesy at best, but you chose to disregard that fact in favor of letting Josh drag your own shirt off your body, too. “Yes, yes,” he said impatiently, fingers crawling over your bare skin, stopped only by the sports bra you wore, “we’ve been thirsting over you, sweet thing. I’ve thought about this beautiful body of yours so many times. In the still of the night,” he whispered, slipping under the flimsy material covering your breasts, “when I can’t help myself. Like right now.” 

You let a small noise slip out as he softly rubbed his thumb over your nipple. It wasn’t enough for them, though, and Danny quickly nudged Josh’s hand. “Let us see you. Josh wasn’t the only one thinking dirty, filthy thoughts when it came to you,” Danny said, laid back down so that the blankets were once again keeping the rising heat in.

Your sports bra came off, and you wriggled out of your pants, as well, knowing that they would be one of the next items on the list, and then you were naked. Naked, and Danny was naked, too, and when you settled back in, you realized that Josh’s cock was now hard and hot and leaking against your ass, meaning that he rounded the company out, and it was officially a threesome.

Josh backed up, though, so that Danny could put you on your back and trail kisses down your throat until he reached your breasts. You mewled when he took your nipple into his mouth, and it seemed that broke Josh, as he put a hand on the base of his dick and squeezed. Your noises must have actually done it for him. “Mmmm, Danny,” you sighed, foot sliding up the mattress in pleasure. Danny shifted so that he was straddling your thigh, and he ground down once, his cock twitching against your skin.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured against your skin. “Are you soft everywhere, I wonder?”

His words were the only warning you got before his fingers slipped between your lips and spread your wetness across your pussy. “Oh, yeah,” he groaned. “Soft and so fucking wet. Josh, feel how wet our girl is.”

Josh didn’t need any more prompting, and he joined Danny between your thighs, his fingers side-by-side with Danny’s thicker, coarser ones. Your whimper and squirms were met with an intensified touch – Josh took the plunge and dipped a singular digit into your entrance, and you felt as though you’d combust if things didn’t progress soon. 

“Soft and wet,” Josh agreed, his finger pressing forward and pulling back gently. “Finally get to feel you, Y/N. How do you like to play, sweet thing?”

Danny hummed, still mouthing over your stomach. “Did you like it when we played with your pretty little tits? Or do you like Josh’s finger inside you better?”

You were becoming frustrated with their sudden slow-down after taking advantage of the whole bed situation so quickly. “I like them both– I just need more,” you whined, your pussy clenching around Josh’s finger as you tried to fuck yourself faster. “Come on, guys, I know you can do better.” You switched tactics on them, goading instead of whining, and Danny chuckled against your skin.

“More?” he asked, looking at Josh. “What do you think, Josh– wanna fill her up a bit? Add a couple of fingers?”

Josh answered in action, fitting a second finger in beside the first and upping the speed, angling his fingertips to run along your walls until he found that sweet spot inside of you. You gasped and bucked your hips, but Danny held you down gently.

“Shit– right there, Josh!” you affirmed, stilling so that he could focus on that spot.

The lights suddenly flickered back on, and everything paused as you took in the now lit-up scene with blown-pupil eyes. You all three blinked at each other, drinking in the finer details. Finally, Danny’s lips quirked up in a smirk and he pressed a kiss to your hip while Josh continued fingering you.

Josh’s next words weren’t directed at you; he’d heard you, and he wasn’t budging on his positioning, but instead, he met Danny’s eyes and smiled, which you barely caught with your eyes fluttering shut as they were. “Better, she says,” he scoffed, gently mocking your nettling. “If there’s anything I’ve learned about better, it’s that fingers are always better with a mouth. Daniel, care to assist since you’re already down there?”

“More than happy to,” Danny said with a shark-like grin, and your lips trembled with a moan as you watched him converge with Josh’s fingers, then felt his tongue envelope your clit, rolling pressure and darting around in circles like a pro.

This man knew what he was fucking doing.

“Hot fuck, you guys,” you keened, their combined efforts quickly uncovering your growing orgasm. “Have you– ahh– you done this before?” you asked shakily, vacillating between closing your eyes to take in the sensations and watching them both work between your legs.

Josh and Danny shared an amused glance, and you realized that the question wasn’t as pointed as you meant it to be – you’d be the first to claim that you weren’t in the state of mind to care, but you also found it in you to roll your eyes when Josh said, “Yeah, a couple of times,” for the both of them, since Danny’s mouth was occupied, his lips suctioned around you.

“I meant together.”

Josh chuckled and then pinched his pinky and thumb together so that he could bind his middle three and slowly delve them into you underneath where Danny was. “No. But we did talk about it when we got drunk together once. Only once,” he assured quickly, “we didn’t, like, plan this all out beforehand. The opportunity presented itself, though, and you seemed into it…”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Seemed?”

“Touché,” he said, three knuckles deep into your wet core and building a steady rhythm that pushed you higher and higher.

Danny’s contributions were exacerbated when he grasped the undersides of your thighs and pressed his face into you as hard as he could while still trying to avoid taking away Josh’s ability to finger you. 

“Ah– ah,” you croaked, back arching as the coil grew tighter. “Guys, I’m gonna– fuck me, I’m right there; I’m gonna cum, just keep going!”

“No need to tell us twice, sweet thing,” Josh cooed. “Come on, now, let go. You can cum pretty all over my fingers, all over Danny’s mouth. Show us how you do it. God, you look so beautiful,” he babbled, fingers working faster inside of you as you cried out once more and fell off the edge of the cliff.

You fisted the sheets with one hand, and with the other, you pushed Danny’s head away, spasming with overstimulation as he kept sucking you up even as you came down. “Danny– that’s a lot,” you gasped, hips twitching from the force of the orgasm. 

He listened, and pulled away just as Josh withdrew his soaked fingers, rubbing them together and then spreading them apart, where they webbed with your release. As Josh brought them towards his face, Danny caught him by the wrist and beat him to the punchline, his lips – still glistening with your cum as well – wrapping around Josh’s digits and sucking them clean.

A shock of arousal shot through you at the sight, and you were liable to fall apart and never be put back together again when Danny popped the fingers out of his mouth and was immediately pulled into a searching kiss afterwards. Josh’s hands remained firm, one on the side of Danny’s neck, and the other tangling with Danny’s at his side. He was smirking when he pulled away, and the side-eye he sent your way told you that he was aware of what he was doing to you, how he was playing you.

Like a damn fiddle.

“You taste like an angel,” Danny remarked, turning his attention back to you. “Doesn’t even matter where I get you from.”

“Come here,” you huffed, guiding him into another kiss, this time pushing your tongue into his mouth, as if you could taste the remnants of all three of you together. You could feel the tip of his cock catching your tummy every so often, though, in the hovering position he was in, and the desire you had to be dicked down by these men returned in full force. “Fuck me, Danny,” you breathed against his lips. “I want you inside me. Please.”

“Shit,” he cursed gently, lowering himself so that he was covering every inch of you from head to toe. You were totally encompassed in him, so you wrapped your legs around his waist to lock him in. 

Josh looked on, slowly stroking his own cock to find relief. “Go on, Dan,” he encouraged. “Give it to her like she’s asking.”

“Begging,” Danny corrected, running his thick head through the result of their sloppy-wet work. “I’ll fuck you so good,” he promised, lining up with your entrance. “Get you to cum again for us so that I can see this time. I can’t just miss out on feeling you clench around some part of me.”

You popped your hips up, trying to get him to slide into you (it would have been easy enough with how wet you were from your last orgasm). “I’ll cum for you,” you keened impatiently, “but I need you to actually fuck me first.”

Josh snorted. “Still a little spitfire even with a dick in you, aren’t you?”

You were about to retort that there wasn’t a dick in you yet, when Danny finally pushed past the initial resistance that served as a reminder that you really hadn’t taken much more than your fingers and a small vibrator recently. He was substantially bigger than yours or Josh’s fingers, even three of them.

“Yeah,” he hissed, throwing his head back as he eased in. “Open up for me, angel; let me in that pretty, pink heaven.”

Josh laid down beside you, plastered to the length of your body as you wrapped your legs around Danny’s waist and encouraged him to start moving. The hand that wasn’t still stroking himself snaked up your body to pinch and play with your nipples as your breasts jiggled in time with each new punch of Danny’s hips to yours. 

You could smell Josh, so close to you, even beyond the scent of sex that was slowly permeating the air around you. “Danny fucks like a god,” you whimpered to no one in particular, barely holding onto your sanity as you were filled to the brim time and time again.

Danny’s grip on your hips tightened at your praise, and your attention was yanked back to the man currently rearranging your guts in the middle of the night in a crappy motel while one of his best friends waited his turn. “Say it to my face.”

You met his heavy-lidded gaze, and reached up to him. He leaned into your palm, and you smiled at him. “You are crazy good at lighting me up, Daniel Wagner.”

“Warm her up, make her burn, ” Josh murmured, leaning over to replace his fingers with his tongue.

With the warm, wet swirl around your nipples and Danny’s hand making its way to press down on your lower stomach, changing up the angle that he hit inside you, you were more than close to your second orgasm. “Feel that, Y/N?” Danny huffed, slowing to grab your hand and push it to where he’d been a moment earlier. “Feel how fucking deep I am?” 

Maybe it was because you wanted to feel him, or perhaps you weren’t imaging it at all, but you could have sworn that each time Danny’s hips smacked into yours and he sheathed himself balls-deep, you felt him nudge the heel of your hand where it impressed into your stomach. Regardless of whether you could with that hand, though, you could certainly feel him in other ways, so you whined and nodded, focused on the sensations.

“God, you take me so well, Angel. Wanna live here,” he whimpered, hips stuttering as he joined you on the precipice.

“In a shitty motel?” Josh joked, re-inserting himself into the situation. “Or so far up Y/N’s cunt she’s gonna have a hard time thinking about anything else for the rest of the trip?” 

Danny panted, hot and loud, and grunted as he embodied his livelihood: rhythm, reliability, and consistency in each slide into you bringing you both closer and closer to the edge. “The second one.”

Josh nodded, slipping his fingers down to circle your clit, obviously reaching the end of his patience and no longer willing to wait his turn . “That’s what I thought. Can’t blame either of you, really,” he sighed, pushing himself up on one arm to kiss whatever breath Danny had left in his lungs away.

Even then, Danny didn’t falter, and his steady thrusts soon paid off. You both gave into the pressure, and Danny yipped out his orgasm against Josh’s lips, topping it off with a deep groan as he emptied himself into you, shallowly pumping himself through it before he collapsed onto his forearms, lips brushing yours as he caught his breath.

“Are you ready to take Josh?” he whispered, pressing a sweet kiss to your mouth before you could answer.

“Before that, actually,” Josh interjected, moving in closer and encasing you in their body heat again now that the chill was creeping back in and cooling your sweat quickly, “I’m gonna need you to move off our sweet Y/N, here. There’s something else I’d like to do before I get to follow in Big Dick Dan’s footsteps.”

His hand was running up and down Danny’s bare back, and you felt the rumble of laughter rise from Danny’s chest, so there was no surprise when a laugh that was a little too loud escaped his face, now crinkled up in joy. “I swear they don’t call me that. I’ve never heard that nickname in my life,” he giggled, and Josh pursed his lips exaggeratedly from beside you.

“Not to your face, maybe.”

Danny did as Josh asked, though, and gingerly pulled himself out of you, sighing as he finally rested his entire weight on the bed at your side. Josh quickly took his place, eyes roving over your lower half and then meeting yours once he apparently found what he was looking for.

Making his way down your body, he wet his lips. “Let’s see if you still taste as Danny has so lovingly named you, Angel,” Josh said, lowering himself to fit in between your thighs. He wasted no time in spreading you apart and lapping you up with the flat of his tongue, catching the slow drip of Danny’s cum as it leaked out of you.

The gasp that flew out of your mouth sounded offended, almost, and Danny’s fingertips dug into the skin of your arm, where he’d been caressing a few seconds earlier. 

“Fuuuuck,” Danny rumbled, low and long. “How’s his mouth feel, Angel? Is it as good as it always looks onstage?”

You moaned with your lips sealed shut, pushing your hips into Josh’s mouth. “Better,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed. You stayed like that, with Danny reaching up to stroke your nipples and kiss your neck while Josh ate you out enthusiastically, slurping and sucking until he had his fill and came up for breath.

He looked slightly crazed, pawing desperately at your thighs while he rocked his hips, cock catching the sheets in a way that must have been driving him insane.

“Come on, Josh,” Danny cooed, pulling your leg over so that you were laying on your side, spread for Josh since Danny hooked you in his elbow. “You’ve gotta be so hard. Give it to her. She’s got another one in her, right, Y/N?”

You bit down into Danny’s shoulder as you nodded, then met Josh’s gaze. “Come on, Josh, come and take me higher. Get us in the fast lane.”

Josh positioned himself behind you, cuddling as you had been at the beginning of the night, but now you were much warmer, and much more fatigued. As he shakily guided himself to your entrance, slicking up the tip of his dick with what he’d left behind, he pushed in slowly and said, “You have us for the entire night, angel, no need to rush.”

“Yeah,” Danny hummed against your open lips, spread in the ecstasy of being stretched once more, “no need to rush at all. We need to keep you warm all night.”

…

Jake and Sam were already waiting for you in the lobby when Josh and Danny had managed to drag themselves out of bed. Considering they hadn’t been the ones fucked half to death until the sky began to lighten, you were unsympathetic to their whines about being tired, and were quite proud that you managed to walk all by yourself without the assistance of a wheelchair.

Sam caught sight of you first and waved you over, looking restless and jumpy and ready to leave. “This motel sucks. The coffee is cold and I’m pretty sure from last year, so I’d skip it,” he huffed.

Sam wasn’t a huge coffee drinker, so the fact that he’d been desperate enough to try coffee from the ancient-looking carafe was a surefire sign that he hadn’t slept well either.

For entirely different reasons than you, Danny, and Josh, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You seem a little grumpy,” you smirked. You saw recognition on his face and turned to see Danny and Josh finally stepping out of the stairwell, since the elevators didn’t work. 

“Yeah, because I couldn’t fucking sleep when it was in the negative inside the room. Were you guys freezing last night like Jake and I were?”

You doubted the others would need much convincing to stop for breakfast and coffee, so you just shrugged your bag over your shoulder, shook your head innocently, and smiled. “Nope,” you said lightly. “I was toasty all night long.”

~~~

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[captainkappa]

Fanfic:: Hunter and Prey

To be a Mandalorian pirate is to be both hunter and prey. This, Din understood after being taken into their care as a child.

Now he is hunting a Mandalorian artifact to deliver his charge to the aquatic sorcerers in order to teach him how to handle his magic. His quest brings him to a sandy stretch of shore, Mos Pelgo.

Link to AO3

For Day 4 of @dincobbweek aka AU day!

The prophecy as foretold; I have a hyperfixation, therefore I must write a pirate AU. And oh my god, I loved writing this fic so so much.

Huge shout out to @staranon95 for betaing and @ayantiel for providing the needed inspiration to get this thing going!

-=-=-=-

Mayfeld took in a deep breath, letting the salty air fill his lungs. There was a lot riding on today, his reputation, Ran’s reputation, but with the Empire’s finest knelt at his feet, all of their note-worthy possessions, he thought he was doing pretty well.

“No one makes any dumb decisions and you all will get to live,” he called out, voice carrying over the wind so even the poor bastards at the end would be able to hear. “We’re just here for what’s ours and then we’ll leave you be. You’ll never have seen us.”

Xi’an was getting her brother from the prisoners down below and Burg was raiding the captain’s office. Sure, the objective was to get Xi’an’s brother before he made it to the Empire’s colonies, but this was an Imperial vessel. The three of them would have to be stupid not to rob the Imps blind when they had the opportunity.  Plus, their informant assured them that not only was this a prisoner’s vessel, it was a transport vessel, moving a map that led to a whole lot of Mandalorian gold.

It was the perfect plan; do a job for Ran, undermine Ran, get filthy rich, and live the rest of their days on an island in the Outer Isles.

And everything was going great, when Burg burst through the captain’s doors, startling everyone on board. Everyone jumped, bar Mayfeld. Burg cut an intimidating figure, a mountain of a man, horns poking through holes he made in his hat so he had to crouch to get into most places. His sudden presence didn’t startle Migs. What was a surprise was the concern on his face.

“Migs! The captain is dead!”

He rolled his eyes. “And? Do you want me to pay you back for the ammo it took to do that?”

“No, he was already dead! And the map’s gone too!”

His blood ran cold. He gave up the act and ran into the room, grabbing onto his hat so it wouldn’t fly away. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. He couldn’t tell if there had been a scuffle or it had been Burg who had torn up the room. Drawers were half open, hanging out, papers scattered, a blood-spatter, maybe, but there was so little Migs couldn’t tell if it was recent.

And in the center of it all, the captain, dead in his chair. His body was cool, so Burg wasn’t bluffing in saying someone had shot him before. There had been a lot of commotion when they had first boarded the ship, could the thief have entered then?

“You swear he was like this when you got in?”

Burg nodded.

“And he wasn’t holding a pistol?”

Burg nodded again and the evidence confirmed it. There was only one pistol in the room, halfway across the floor. That didn’t happen when someone tried to off themself for fear of the pirates coming on board.

Migs pushed the body to the floor, getting on his knees to root through the drawers, hoping to find the map, to be able to smack Burg upside the head, but there was nothing. He ripped them out of the desk, holding them upside down and shaking them, but still nothing. Just useless documentation with Imperial seals splayed everywhere.

He slammed the top of the desk as he stood up.

“Did you check everywhere?! Every possible drawer, false drawer, any of that bullshit?”

“Yeah! But it ain’t here!”

Migs pulled off his hat, balling up the rim in fist before throwing it back on.

Ran would tell him not to get greedy. There was an unknown element at play now, so focus on getting Qin out and run. With the group back to what it was before Mando sold them out, they could rob big ships again, but who the fuck cared about that. If Ran knew about the map, he would’ve said to hell with Qin, focus on the pay-out.

Migs stormed out of the quarters and back onto the deck. It was too sunny to see, but that didn’t stop his furious walk back to the line of Imperials on the ship. He grabbed the one in the fanciest looking clothing, who he could only assume was the quartermaster or second mate, and hauled him to his feet by his collar.

The man made a choking sound and face-to-face, looked at Migs with terror.

“Where the fuck is it?”

“Wh-Wh-Wh-?”

“The fucking map! Lost Mandalorian treasure? I need it, and if you don’t, Burg here will make sure you meet those fucking dead ass Mandalorians that hid it in the first place.”

Something must’ve gotten the man brave, because he said, “I thought Mandalorians were extinct, like you pirates are going to be.”

And as if signing his death wish, he spat on the floorboards near his feet.

Well, Migs wanted a nice clean run, but he had a reputation to uphold.

He threw the man back down to the floor and before he could get his arms out from under him, Migs pulled out his flintlock pistol and aimed it at him.

He was a second away from painting the floor with this asshole, when Xi’an ran out from under the deck, her brother trailing behind.

“Captain! It’s Mando!”

That made Migs whip his head up. “Mando? Here?”

She nodded. “We saw him climbing down. Port side, now!”

The four of them raced to the railing, watching as the small craft sped away, faster than any ship could hope to move. She flew familiar colors, the flag of someone who had sold Qin out in the first place.

Migs thought today couldn’t get any worse.

Then the flare went out, bright and brilliant even in the daytime sky. An Imperial flare, that would’ve had to have come from the captain’s quarters, that they wouldn’t have been able to spot in the chaos of the room, that was absolutely going to call every Imperial ship in a hundred miles radius.

Fuck.

Fucker didn’t even have the decency to flip them off as he sailed away.

-=-

Din keeps his eyes low to the ground, brim of his hat pulled low over his head, scarf pulled round his face as he weaves in the crowd. It’s Nevarro, so he knows he blends in with the rest of the criminals that inhabit the port town, but he finds himself more cautious these days.

Especially with the small cargo at his side.

It’s only when he takes a corner into a dark alley, down a set of stairs just off the tavern, into the gloom, does he look at the bag at his side.

As they passed a torch on the wall, the Child looked up at him and beamed, his pointy teeth just coming in, ears unfurling as he lifted the flap.

“You doing ok?”

The child babbled in reply.

“Good, we’ll be there soon.”

For what was basically an underground network for a bunch of criminals, it was surprisingly clean. There were puddles of brackish water that Din stepped around to avoid, along with passing others, but it wasn’t as piss-soaked as Nevarro was up top.

Hiding a whole community under a criminal network didn’t seem like the smartest idea at first, but the thing about criminals is they can either be paid off or disappeared with little problem. As he stepped around a pair of running children, he hoped there would be one day Mandalorians wouldn’t have to hide. He had no idea how that would happen, but no one had ever died on hope.

They finally arrived at their destination, a door on the far side of the hallway. He knocked on the door and opened it when he heard the familiar voice say, “Enter.”

She was already sitting at a table, a bottle of rum in front of her, a candle burning, doing its best to light up the space. Her hat was beside her, feathers drooping so they touched the brim. He made a mental note to pick up more on his next supply run.

He took off his hat as he shut the door behind him, keeping his bandana firmly in place.

“How was your trip?” the Quartermaster asked coolly, picking up the bottle to pour him a drink. It had been years since she had manned a ship, but the title still carries in their community.

He pulled out both the kid and treasure from the bag, setting the kid down on the ground to run around the space before sitting across from her.

“Successful.”

He spread out the map in front of the Quartermaster. He heard those fools talking about Mandalorian gold, and it wasn’t entirely true. It was a map to a compass that would reveal what the holder most desired, which for some might be Mandalorian pirate gold or power or love.

Or the location of the aquatic sorcerers the child needed.

The child wasn’t fully human. He needed to spend a lot of time in water in order to spend time on land, which meant a lot of time spent swimming alongside the Razor Crest. He could also shoot water up out of the ocean, a gift Din was well acquainted with, it being one of the child’s favorite games to play.

Since he had failed to fully deliver the child to the Empire, he had had privateers and other pirates on their tail for months. This map was their last hope to make sure the child got back with his people and then…

And then Din would go back to what he did best; providing for a people now scattered by his actions.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the Quartermaster’s chair scraping back. She stood up, only to bow over again, her back parallel to the table. She moved her scarf to the side so her lips could ghost over the map as she spoke words of power into the paper.

She stood back up fully as the ink on the map shifted and moved. Waves rolled in place, sea serpents dipped in and out of the surface, all the while the path moved like an eel, slippery and changing, until everything at last was at rest and the ink seeped back into the page.

All three bowed their heads over the map. The starting point of the path was now the tiny cluster of islands of Nevarro and the end point was…

“Tatooine?” he asked out loud. “They’re basically land locked. What would a Mandalorian be doing there?”

Tatooine was a coastal stretch of land, surrounded by jagged rocks and ship-wrecks on one side and impassable mountains on the other, with desert in the valley.

She raised her head, scarf now back in place. “I suspect you’ll find out when you go there.”

He nodded and the child cooed. Din looked over at the child grabbing at the map, hands scratching at the lines like he could pick them back up.

“Come on, little one. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

-=-

Din sailed into Mos Pelgo, following the instructions Peli had given him.

“You have to arrive at low tide, that’s the only way you’ll see all the shit you have to get through. If you haven’t decided to turn tail and leave, you have to keep to the south. If you go north, you’re dead. Last I heard, there’s a pile of sticks they call a dock if you keep going south.”

The dock was a simple thing, as she’d said. Rotten wood, with just one post tall enough to hold the rope to the ship. Din was half tempted to jump straight into the water and swim to shore rather than test the strength of the wood, but resisted the urge with the Child in his bag.

He could see the town in the distance and set off on the beach, letting the Child out to stomp around on the beach.

The town was small, a couple of shacks on stilts for the stormy season. Few people were out, and those that were openly stared at the two of them. Din paid them no mind, one goal in his head.

He walked into the cantina, knowing if there ever was a way to learn about a town, it was going to their cantina first.

And not half a minute of talking with the Weequay bartender, the “Captain” walked in. The man wasn’t a Mandalorian, his face was bare, showing off white hair, sun-freckled pale skin, and a well-trimmed beard. His coat was sturdy, but patched to high heaven, with a bright red scarf around his neck. He wore the compass on his belt like he was flaunting it. It made Din’s blood boil. If Din were a younger man, he would’ve shot him right there for it.

But he tried talking. The compass should be in the hands of a Mandalorian. The Captain swore up and down he had gotten it fairly and therefore it should be his.

“I’ve given you an easy out already. Take it off,” Din said, “Or I will.”

“We gonna do this in front of the kid?”

“He’s seen worse.”

The Captain stood, fingers already itching for the flintlock on his hip, no doubt preloaded like Din’s were. They were interrupted by cries from outside. The Captain holds up a hand before smoothly exiting the cantina. Din follows, but stops in the doorframe to take it all in.

There were several broken fishing boats being led through the rocky shores, dragged onto the sands, people shouting, people carrying others. The Captain was in the middle of it all, shouting orders, trying to bring organization to the chaos.

In the distance, was the unmistakable view of a large tentacle slipping beneath the waves.

Din didn’t want to get in the way of this organized chaos, but then a twi’lek with scarred lekku was shoving bandages into his arms and gesturing over to a house across the way. Din wasn’t going to say no to that.

The house was quieter than outside, only pained whimpers and soft, hushed voices. A collection of wooden splinters already piled beside the bed as the doctor continued to take tweezers to one of the people who came in. Din placed the bandages by their side before stepping back, nearly colliding with the Captain.

He looked at the scene with a pensive expression. Immediately, Din could see that his care for his people went further than words. There was corded energy in those shoulders, anger that wanted to be released at the creature that did this to his people.

The Captain ushered him out of the room.

As they walked back to the cantina, the Captain said, “How about this; you help me with the kraken, I give you back your compass.”

“Deal.”                                                                                                          

-=-

The Captain led him past the edge of town to the cliff’s edge. On the journey he told his name was Cobb Vanth; Din held off on his own introduction.

“None of us are much for traveling,” Cobb said, “but the kraken planted itself right where we normally fish. Even when I send people to fish in a different spot, the damn thing follows after. We’ll be starved out sooner rather than later.”

They crested over the hill and the expanse of ocean fell before them. The kraken was visible from the cliffs, a dark mark under the waters, swimming languidly around the coast.

Din did a mental inventory of what he had on the Razor Crest; a handful of spears, a harpoon, some rope. Cobb had shown him the town’s stores before they left. It wasn’t going to be enough.

He stepped back from the ledge, back where Cobb is. “Is there a Tusken encampment nearby?”

Cobb raised an eyebrow. “The Tuskens? But they’re-”

“They know the coast and water better than anyone. We can’t kill it with just the two of us.”

“If they know the area then won’t they want to… I don’t know, not kill it?”

“Then, we’ll just have to ask.”

“Ask? You don’t ask a Tusken anything.”

He could, in fact, ask a Tusken for things. Din was thankful for the cloth in front of his face, masking most of his pride as he watched Cobb’s jaw drop as he asked the Tuskens for their help. It turned out, they did want help in defeating the kraken. Its sudden appearance had also affected their fishing.

They had to travel further to where the kraken had made his home. Din stayed in the back with Cobb, where he seemed more comfortable.

Cobb also apparently liked to talk when he’s nervous.

“So, you spend your days on the ocean? All the time?”

“Mhm. Do you spend all your days on land?”

“Mostly. I used to be on a ship, but not like you. I was a galley slave on an Imperial ship, but before then I had dreams of being as free as you, traveling the waters on a boat with a crew of my own.” His face fell. “Haven’t thought about that dream… for a while.”

To have something that should have meant freedom be taken away from you, Din couldn’t imagine.

“But you escaped?”

“Kriff, yes. Raised a mutiny, sunk those fuckers to the bottom of the sea. I found the compass in the captain’s drawers and it pointed us here. Few more people joined, some left, but it’s as home as we can get.”

Din could only nod. He found himself surprised with the thought that he was glad that Cobb got the compass. He had no idea what the Empire was doing with a Mandalorian artifact, but it was definitely put to better use finding people a home.

They made camp up in the dunes. Din had to waste a bullet, firing into the air to disrupt the startings of a fight between Cobb and the Tuskens. Planning was slightly easier after that.

He took off his coat, bundling it up into a nest for the child to sit in. He rolled up his sleeves to free up his arms as he continued translating. He noticed Cobb looking at the tattoos that traveled up his arms. He doesn’t comment on it.

-=-

Small boats littered the coastline the next day. The plan was for people from both the Tusken band and Mos Pelgo would distract the kraken long enough for a boat of explosives to be set up and ignited close enough to kill it but not the people.

It doesn’t go great.

There were enough boats in the water to pick up people who capsized in the wake of the monster’s waves, the thing lashing out as folks took pot shots with pistols and arrows. They managed to set the boat laden with explosives off in its direction, but when the time came to ignite, the explosion happened, but it just managed to scratch the beast.

Din reached for the harpoons he brought as backup. He and Cobb try firing at the kraken, but they skim off its skin.

The Tuskens were still firing their weapons at the creature. Mos Pelgans took turns firing guns and reloading in turn. All it did was keep the creature at bay, which wouldn’t last long at all. He needed to think of something to kill the creature or everyone here would die.

He furtively scanned around the deck for something, anything. His gaze landed on the extra explosives they had kept on hand. The monster’s skin was too thick for the explosions to take but elsewhere…

Din doesn’t think, he just moves. He grabbed as many sticks of dynamite as he could, stuffing them in the pockets of his coat. There was a coil of rope tied off to the railing, which he took and wrapped around his waist. Even after years of living on ships, his hands shook as he tried to tie it. Suddenly, Cobb was in front of him, taking the rope from his hands and tying it tight around his midsection.

He pulled it hard, once, twice, and it wasn’t going anywhere.

“What are you gonna do?” Cobb asked.

“I’m not sure,” Din said, pulling the rope tighter around his waist.

“Then what should I do?”

Din looked at him, really looked at this man who was willing to do so much for his community in light of so much hardship in his own life. He looked back at the dark shape in the water racing for their boats

He took off his hat and tossed it at Cobb. “Take care of the Child.”

And before Cobb could do anything beyond catch the hat, Din leaped off the side of the ship. He couldn’t tell if Cobb shouted anything after him as the kraken burst from the water. He forced himself to keep his eyes open as he fell straight into the kraken’s maw.

-=-

It was nothing but darkness inside the beast. Even with the scarf over his nose, the scent of salt water and death was everywhere. He dug himself in the mouth of the beast, boots scraping against bony protuberances in the things throat. He emptied his pockets as fast as he could while holding on for dear life as the monster bucked and screamed.

He hoped the kraken was out of range of the boat.

When he was left with one explosive left, he fished around in his pockets for his matchbook. He struck the match and lit the explosive before chucking it down with all the others like it.

He turned and clawed at the kraken’s beak, heart pounding in his chest. If he doesn’t get out of here before the explosion goes off-

Suddenly, a roaring filled his ears and a mass of hot air flung him out of the monster. His scarf twists around his head and he can’t see anything as he flails. He landed hard in the water and then it was silent as the dark water pulled him down.

He wasn’t sure how long he drifted. The shock of cold water and the heaviness of his coat made movement impossible.

He didn’t regret asking Cobb to take care of the child, he’d be in good hands.

Something wrapped around his waist and pulled. Din tried to resist, not sure if he was being dragged toward air or to his death, but his arms were useless, heavy and leaden. He had no strength and so he let it happen.

And then they broke through the surface of the water, a cool wind icing his skin instantly. He took a shuddering breath and nearly choked on water and his sopping wet scarf. Hands came up and pulled the scarf off his face. He coughed, chest shuddering with each intake of breath. He realized he’s being held, arms around his waist, and it isn’t until he can take a full breath did he finally bother to wipe salt water from his eyes and look at who was holding him.

It was Cobb. His hat and coat were off, red shirt darkened to maroon with all the water. He was searching his face for… something.

Din took a breath, resisting the urge to cough again. “I thought I said- you need to take care of the kid!”

“I am!” Cobb said, holding his head up to avoid a passing wave. “By making sure his daddy lives!”

Cobb maneuvers his arms so he’s gripping a floating piece of rowboat. It’s thankfully big enough that when Din leans his whole weight on it, he doesn’t sink back into the ocean.

“Everyone okay?”

Cobb gave him a look that Din thinks means he’s stupid. “Yes, thanks to you, partner.”

They only have to tread water for a couple of minutes before a rowboat headed by the twi’lek Issa-Or arrives. Cobb makes sure Din is pulled aboard before climbing in himself.

-=-

They stayed the night. Din isn’t in any position to argue with Cobb’s hospitality. He didn’t think he’d be able to turn the wheel on the Razor Crest let alone sail it out of harbor.

Cobb opened his house to them. It was a small abode, raised off the ground like the others. Its small size made it even more obvious the telescope and sextant were on display on the only table in the main room.

Din wanted to pass out then and there, but Cobb firmly set him in one of the wooden chairs before disappearing behind the one door in the house. He returned with a roll of bandages and water. He thought it was to drink, until Cobb started peeling back the wet layers of Din’s clothes to reveal burns and scratches he hadn’t even felt. Cobb dips a rag into the freshwater, rinsing out the salt and detritus from the wounds.

He worked in silence, both too exhausted from the day to say much. They could hear the sounds of the party outside, Tusken and Mos Pelgan alike celebrating the death of the beast.

A drunken group walked past and the two of them can hear the butchered shanty they sing. They glanced to the window then to each other, sharing hidden smiles.

All patched up, Cobb gave him the bed and set something up for the child. Din knew he should be aware of his host, should know where his host himself is sleeping the night, but he couldn’t bring himself to care with exhaustion tugging him into the bed.

Voices from the other room kept him up,  cracking one eye open to focus on the now familiar drawl.

“You know, in the past few days, whenever I looked at the compass for a sign of how to kill the kraken, it always pointed out to sea. I didn’t know what that meant, if I had to go sailing for a kraken expert or find a sunken treasure that would kill the kraken. I don’t know, I was getting desperate. But now… I’m thinking it might’ve been pointing to your dad.”

He heard the child’s burbles of delight and finally, finally, he slid into unconsciousness.

-=-

Din woke up to the sun shining in his eyes, light reflecting off the compass placed on the pillow that wasn’t there last night. Any lingering drowsiness left him when he realized what it is.

The Mandalorian compass.

He grabbed it and opened it up, thinking about Grogu and the teacher he needed. The arrow spun around, until stopping, hovering at a point out back toward the ocean.

A heading. He had a heading.

He fell back into the bed, just staring at the compass. It was embedded in a box made of dark wood, carvings all around the edges, Mando’a script, if he had to guess. It’s incomprehensible, chipped to the point of  being illegible.  

Something in the bed crinkled as he shifted. He turned and searched for the source and founda scrap of paper. It took a moment for him to parse, but it was just Cobb letting him know he had business to attend to and he would be back when Din left.

Right... they had to leave this town to continue their quest.

He reminded himself of that as he went out to find the child. The house sounded suspiciously quiet for all the mischief the child got into.

-=-

They got their affairs in order quicker than expected. Some people had spent the night alongside the Tuskens preparing the kraken meat to distribute to the rest of the town – and Din, apparently.

It seemed like the whole town had come out to see them off. They apparently had held off giving their thanks until they knew he was conscious. Din looked over the grateful townspeople’s heads to see Issa talking intently with Cobb. When Cobb glanced over his way, he ducked his head back down.

Normally he would sneak out of this kind of attention, but the kid was eating it up, beaming like he was the one who took down the beast, so Din went down the line, nodding respectfully at every given comment.

By the time he got to the end of the line, he was already ready to take a nap, but he raised a hand to bid them all good-bye and turned to walk out of town.

“Mando!”

Din turned around to see Cobb running after him, heel kicking up sand.

He stops in front of him. “Do you- do you need help on your quest?”

“Are you offering? Thought you had a town to look after.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Well, the kraken was our biggest threat, and with the peace brokered with the Tuskens, there’s not much for me here.”

Din tried to tamp down his excitement, not believing what he was hearing. “You still have your sea legs?”

“Long as you don’t lock me up below deck, I should get them just fine.”

“I’d never,” he said quickly. 

Cobb smiled. “Well then, permission to come aboard?”

Din hoped Cobb could tell he was smiling behind the bandana. “Granted.”

-=-

As they sailed out of port, Din kept glancing at Cobb, who was fidgeting up a storm. He kept tapping his fingers against the railing, glancing out at the disappearing coastline.

Finally, after even the Child was tapping on his pant leg to point out Cobb’s unease for him, he hatched a plan. He affixed the wheel so it wouldn’t turn on its own. Then he went about setting the sails and ropes for the same task, keeping them on course while Din took care of Cobb.

“We can still head back if you want to,” he said as he approached the other man.

Cobb turned over his shoulder. “No, I’m not having second thoughts. I’ve… My friends know I’m not exactly made for land.”

“Oh?”

Cobb flipped his scarf up to wipe at his head. “Before we made landfall at Mos Pelgo, we took out a few Imperial ports. Small things that we only noticed because of the ships with galley slaves, but… I ain’t felt that alive in a while.”

Din fished the compass out from his pocket, flicking it open. The arrow spun lazily, pointing back to Cobb for a second before spinning around in the direction they were sailing, the same direction it had pointed when he thought about what Grogu needed.

He snapped it shut, coming up to stand beside Cobb.

“I’m sure we’ll run into something along the way. Here, I’ve got something to show you.”

Cobb raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I’ll bite. What is it?”

Din bit his lip, glad for the bandana. “Do you trust me?”

Cobb chuckled. “I would have to be an idiot to sail out to who knows where with a man I didn’t trust.”

Din nodded. “Then let it be a surprise.”

Cobb acquiesced, letting himself be led to the middle of the deck. When they were under the main mast, Din grabbed the main line in one hand, pulling Cobb close with the other. He ignored how his cheeks flushed with the sudden closeness.

“Hold on tight,” he said.

“Wha-?” That’s all Cobb got out before Din flicked the switch with his foot and the two of them went rocketing up toward the crow’s nest. Cobb’s arms circled around him like a vice, his shouts lost in the wind.

Din made sure Cobb got in the basket before he did, especially when he realized his eyes were shut.

“Cobb, open your eyes.”

Cobb cracked one eye open and then both flew open as he realized what he was seeing. Glittering blue ocean, as far as the eye could see. There were two dots in the far distance, ships of some sort.

There was no better way to experience the vastness of it all, than looking at it from above.

He glanced at Cobb and saw his eyes tearing up a bit.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, letting Cobb take it all in. This was what being on the ocean was supposed to mean, freedom and possibility, beauty and wonder. Din didn’t expect to do much in laying a balm over Cobb’s past, but he hoped he could communicate with this view that he wanted to help when he could.

Cobb turned to face him and Din knew he understood.

“Thank you, Mando.”

“Din, my name is Din Djarin.”

“Then thank you, Din.” And to his surprise, he leaned over and kissed him just above where the scarf covered his face.

Neither of them acknowledged it, except for an exchange of eye contact. Neither could contain the mirth in the crinkles of their eyes.

“We should start plotting a course, shouldn’t we, Captain?” Cobb asked.

“Yes, Captain.”

[shadow-scenarios]

Hello~ may I ask for something slightly specific? I wanted to ask about a scenario in which the reader recently obtains the Meta-Nav but instead of the PT finding out first, Goro does. See, the reader and Goro have recently become acquaintances and reader thinks that the Meta-Nav is something related to illegal activity so she goes to consult their detective friend on this mysterious app! Haha, sorry if this is too specific ;-;

Hey there simulationone, this isn’t too specific!! I like creative ideas that change the plot & this has been my favourite request to write so far.

However, I did change the request slightly. I made it so that the Reader awakened to their Persona & gains the MetaNav!! I hope that’s alright with you. If not, feel free to message me again and I can rewrite it.

{ Post Writing Note: Well, I wrote way too much!! Sorry if there’s less Akechi content than you thought, I got hyperfixated on how it would affect the plot. I’d love to write a Part 2 full of angst with this, so feel free to request it!! }

- Nexus.

Dance with Justice | Goro Akechi

Life at Kosei High was predictable. Like a metronome. Constant pressure to be the best & high achievement boundaries, it was a wonder how she was ever accepted without some sort of moonlighting as a prodigy. These stories of mental shutdowns & psychotic breakdowns made the world look grim & everyone seemed desperate to escape it all.

Comfort was found in the Phantom Thieves and how they manipulated hearts. Dancing the line between immoral & illegal, it was a grey area where the who was less significant than the how. Society grasped onto them as miraculous saviours as they solved cases faster than regular forces ever could: Kamoshida, Madarame, Kaneshiro, Medjed. The world was taken by storm, these renegade rogues looking to change the world & it seemed they were no longer an urban legend.

Their downfall was unexpected, to say the least. Okumura was murdered in cold blood, his mental shutdown playing onscreen during an important meeting where he was about to reveal an important factor in solving this buck-wild case. A calling card was found at the residence, the sigil of their misdeeds. Just when the mystery was about to unravel, the threads gave way to a bigger problem: Did the Phantom Thieves cause the very shutdowns everyone was trying to escape?

Swiftly, the media capitalised. Labelling them as criminals, demanding their arrest. Everything shifted so quickly & she was caught up by the egregious claims of both sides. There was one thing for certain: The Phantoms Thieves had killed someone and regardless of their previous deeds, they needed to be brought to justice.

Naturally, the first viable suspect she found was Yusuke Kitagawa.

He was of the eccentric sort, gaining a scholarship through art. Everything the strange man did was usually for the sake of ‘ Finding true beauty! ’, which was slightly melodramatic. Before Madarame’s case, he was fixated on art singularly. Now? He seemed to have other priorities. Whenever someone would discuss the Phantom Thieves in an art lesson, there was a glimmer in his eye & the paintbrush that had been on the canvas stopped in order to listen in.

A victim of Madarame’s plagiarism, which gave a plausible motive. Despite this, nothing was concrete. She thought about her friend, Akechi. Was this how he solved crimes?

Obviously, the next step was to follow Yusuke around. Sneaking around was rather easy, all she had ever been known as by the student populace was ‘ the girl who was friends with Akechi! ’, so standing out was not much of a problem. There was not much abnormal. Despite being somewhat of a social outcast, he had a small circle of friends. Six in total.

Five of them were clearly wearing the Shujin Academy uniform on the day she spotted them. One was tall in stature with fluffy black hair & thick framed glasses. Reserved in nature but he always appeared to have some sort of witty comeback. Soon he became known as Akira.

Another one was a blonde, around the same height. He wore the uniform much like a delinquent alongside a yellow graphic tee. Obnoxiously loud, as it was never difficult to hear what he was saying even from far away. The person closest to him was Ann. She had platinum blonde hair tied back into pigtails & features of an American.

Makoto was next. Clearly more of a calculating type, she wore the uniform immaculately. Wearing her hair in a French-braid styled headband, she had maroon coloured eyes & was around average height. Most of the time, she was commenting on the boy’s behaviour.

Haru Okumura was someone recognisable due to the news about her father’s death, which was saddening. In her uniform, she wore a fluffy pink turtleneck alongside white tights with flower patterns.

Futaba was just as strange as Yusuke. She used a mixture of gamer jargon whenever she spoke and was never seen in a uniform. About middle school age, she carried around a set of headphones everywhere that regularly rested atop her maple coloured hair.

Stuffed inside of Akira’s bag was also a cat that they tried to hide. Key word: Tried. Six of them & a cat.

They frequented a local cafe in Shibuya, LeBlanc. It was a nice location & she had even gone in there once to listen in. Boss was kind, to say the least. He served coffee with a warm smile & the curry combined perfectly enough to encourage a smile out of her.

On a Friday, the cafe was busy. They had gathered at one table & chatted casually. Most of them looked forelorn. Akira eventually gestured for them to take the conversation outside, where they would disturb fewer people.

Following behind them, she paid Boss & followed, attempting to seem casual. They never noticed. Conspicuously trailing into an alleyway, Ryuji pulled out his phone. Listening in was difficult so she opted to pull out her own phone and record. One of them, presumably Akira, simply said “ Mementos. ”.

Mementos. That singular word triggered something & changed everything. As the world began to violently shift in a strange phenomena, hues of vermillion & mauve dotted her vision. It was hypnotic. Eventually, she snapped out of the trance.

Concealed by masks & flashy outfits were the suspicious group she had been following. It was blatantly obvious by their hair colours. However, the animated cat creature was a surprise. It was reminiscent of the cat Akira carried around but even stranger was that it talked. Then it turned into a bus. Which did not seem all that strange.

Inherently familiar with their environment, they sped off down the escalator, leaving her alone with her thoughts. There were so many reds & greys. Thick red veins ran through the sides in mangled forms. The wall behind her was dilapidated & the only way to proceed was the escalator in front of her.

A fatal mistake, really.

Recalling the details of the awakening are fuzzy at best. These lumbering creatures formed entirely out of shadow began to take notice of her unwanted presence. Cornered, desperate and alone. Insurmountable pain; the voice of someone almost familiar; then freedom & rebellion.

With the pact of her Persona, everything was clearer. Life had previously moved in rhetorical patterns, it was now a whimsical dance. Eliminating the so called enemies with a weapon in hand, she eventually found a way back to the surface. The door at the beginning looked to be a way out, so she threw caution to the wind & took the chance.

Fatigue came first in this dingy alleyway. Adrenaline had been fuelling the push to leave alongside her newly granted power and once that was gone, nothing would spare her from raw exhaustion. Checking her phone in the hopes of finding evidence, the video taken was still there, though it cut off as soon as anyone disappeared.

Even without evidence, she knew that this group was doing something illicit. So she texted the one person she trusted with this secret: Goro Akechi. He was a detective, surely he would have answers.

;; I must speak with you in person as soon as possible. It’s regarding the Phantom Thieves, I have some evidence for you. You’re investigating them, correct?

Knowing full well that Akechi lived a busy life, she did not expect a response for a while. After gathering the strength to stand once again, she headed home. It was the most exhausting experience ever, physically & emotionally. A few minutes after returning home, there was a response from Akechi.

I am indeed investigating them. If you have any evidence regarding them, would it not be more convenient for me to receive it via text? ;;

;; Yes, it would be, but I can barely even believe the evidence presented to me. It’s better for you to see it for yourself. Are you attending school tomorrow?

Indeed I am. Pulling away from the public eye has benefits. If you are free during lunch, we can meet on the rooftop and discuss the supposed evidence that you have found. Does that sound like a compromise? ;;

;; Alright. I’ll see you on the rooftop tomorrow.

The next day was filled with trepidation. Everyone seemed to be mulling about & with how slowly the clock was moving, it was if the school was in a state of chronostasis. Although she did not share many classes with Akechi, there had been a moment where she saw a mop of hazelnut brown hair amongst a crowd, so he was likely to be there.

Sitting on the rooftop alone was slightly boring but she understood why he was late. Every time lunch began, Akechi would be surrounded by people who wanted his attention. It must have been rather annoying.

5. 10. 15. Minutes ticked by. During the winter, it was exceptionally cold so not a single soul came up. The chilly winter breeze nipped at her skin & for a moment she wondered if it was Akechi that she had seen. The brown hair easily could have been mistaken—

The creak of the door announced his presence. With a formal apology, he recalled how his teachers were intent on swarming him with catch up work that he would inevitably never complete. Dismissing it all & moving along with the subject, Akechi got straight to the point:

“ What was it you wished to speak to me about? ”, he asked.

“ I believe I have ascertained the identities of the Phantom Thieves, ” was the only reply she gave.

Looking astounded, he shifted his glove via force of habit & looked directly at her.

“ That’s quite the bold claim, ” he returned to a neutral expression as the mask of the Detective Prince slipped back on, “ Do you have any evidence? ”.

Recalling the story to the best of her ability was tedious. From the suspicious behaviour Yusuke had been demonstrating to the video evidence taken from her phone. Throughout the entire story, he maintained a neutral expression so she was never quite sure what to think.

“ Usually, I would disregard such stories as a strange dream or a vision you had & declare your footage as edited. However, I have... also had an encounter in this strange phenomena as well. ”

Everything began to make more sense as it was explained. Akechi rattled off about the cognitive world, Palaces, Personas & even how ‘ stealing someone’s heart ’ was possible. He explained that his plan was to lend the Phantom Thieves a hand in their next assignment & catch them in the very act. Specifically, their leader.

“ That explains a lot. Let me help you. I have a Persona as well & I can fight in that other world. I want to bring the Phantom Thieves to justice. They killed Okumura & many others if they are the ones behind the mental shutdowns. Tampering with the heart of another is wrong... ”

“... Alright. I suppose it will make things easier if it is the two of us. I hope you are a very good actor,” Akechi extended a reluctant hand for her to shake. His gaze was calculated, cold. Much different from his tone of voice. However, she took his hand & shook it.

With that, a contract was signed. Both herself & the detective would bring about the end of the Phantom Thieves.

Word Count: 1.9k

Publish Date: 27.09.20

[xxmisty]

My Big Humiliating Torchwood Confession Post, Part 2: the worse part :P

Warning: this will be another long post :P

So how the hell do I begin this? Maybe by screaming at Torchwood for existing? :P um, ok. So where did I get up to? Oh yes: Lucy had forced me to watch Torchwood, I hated it, the. I loved it, then it became my fuckin’ LIIIIIIFE

so, i got into Torchwood. I got back on T. I got back my ability to be truly swallowed up in a hyperfixation. And then i got really majorly pissed off with what happened next :P

A couple of days ago I made a coming out post about the way my sexuality has shifted and changed since I went back on T. Ha ha ha ha ha, you want to know where the whole fucking thing started??? Well pull up a chair and watch me foam at the mouth with rage and embarrassment about this whole thing aaaarrgghhhhhhhhh!!!

Is there anyone who’s been following me long enough to remember the oranges dream?  To my mind I can only think of two people who might be and I doubt it’s stuck in anyone else’s mind, but it stuck in mine. Ohhhhhh god, it stuck in mine, along with the discomfort and the embarrassment and the rage of it. 

Basically, back in the summer of 2013 I had a highly unexpected dream. It was a fetish-related dream for one thing which is actually really rare for me. For another, it featured someone I would never have expected in a million years. I’ll shift the white elephant out of the corner of the room: it’s Captain Jack Harkness. This was weird even for the time because although i’d started watching new Who the year before I hadn’t yet watched any of his episodes, i just knew of him from seeing stuff in tv magazines and trailers and pictures online and believe me, I was so weirded out by that fucking dream that oranges have been a source of discomfort ever since. So has Jack fucking Harkness. 

And so when I realised I was getting increasingly intense feelings of discomfort, embarrassment and awkwardness every time he was on the bloody screen I chalked it up to *that*. The god damned oranges dream from six and a half years prior. But it was *more* than that and I couldn’t put my finger on quite what it was until I realised it was exactly the way I used to feel when trying to deny the crushes that I had on characters in the shows I used to be obsessed with through my teenage years. Back in the days when I was having butterflies over looking at pictures of Gillian Anderson and Jaye Griffiths and trying as hard as I could to force myself to find their Male co-stars attractive instead to no avail.

And that’s when I started to have a Big. Gay. Panic.

I kept thinking it would go away. It didn’t. I kept thinking it would fade into the background. It didn’t. kept thinking I was mistaking my sudden and resentful love of Torchwood for a crush on a character. I wasn’t. I fancied Jack Fucking Harkness and it wasn’t going away.

It got worse. Much worse. Because Jack Harkness was like a fucking gateway drug, as I said to Lucy yesterday. I started to get some funny feelings about aaargghhhhhhhhh..... a certain other character from Torchwood. Ianto was already my favourite character (which was miraculous when you remember that Cyberwoman was the second episode lucy made me watch that fateful night!) and I really ship Jack and Ianto so again I wrote it off as something else but it kept gnawing away at me. 

And I went into such a stupid crisis because this was all the last thing i’d expected I honestly can’t explain how hard I tried to force myself to find men attractive. For years and years and years. And god, the number of fake crushes I had when I was younger to throw people off the scent of the fact that I liked women! I never had any changes in my sexuality when I was on T before either. But there I was, horny as hell, obsessed with Torchwood and getting all kinds of feelings I was NOT happy about when certain characters of an unexpected gender came on screen.

This post is already going to be way to long so I’ll give you the short version of the process that occurred in the latter weeks of January and first week of February: I increasingly ranted at Lucy for showing me Torchwood because it had ruined my LIFE and blamed her for EVERYTHING and started having a big fucking MELTDOWN one night when I first of all confessed with rage that Torchwood had become my utter hyperfixation, then spent several hours sat in front of her with half-mock, Half-genuine sobs, burying my head in her lap/arms/bosom and crying ‘IT’S SO AWFUL!’ While she patronised me in a Frasier-esque fashion to coax me through my trauma, until after literal hours I managed to force out the words that I was having some very confusing feelings about certain Torchwood characters.

I then begged for retcon.

She was wonderful. This was not a surprise, because she *is*. She just is. She has always been my absolute rock, no matter what i’m going through. She said all the right things and did all the right things and helped me more than I can put into words. And I was still convinced it was a temporary thing and would go away soon. I was sure when I got more used got the T things would go back to the way they were.  But they got WORSE! 

They got worse in TWO WAYS! The first was that sometimes I realised there might...*might*...be other men that actually weren’t competed hideous... maybe some that I might... actually... quite... fancy... (funnily enough though my attraction to women became a lot more sexual in its nature at the same time. Where as before it was more along the lines of ‘you’re very prettyi ... I would like to draw you... maybe hold hands with you... perhaps even a chaste peck on the cheek...’ it became quite a bit.... hotter?)

And worse than that the whole... Harkness... crush.... just got... worse. And worse. Dear god, I think at this point it’s like... fuck, i’m too embarrassed to even like... put it into words nfkubahhrrrghhhhhh And then it got worse because it’s spilled over into fffffffffpppppppp having a bit of a thing about John Barrowman and hhhhrruuunnnghhhh pahhhhh I hate EVERYTHING!!! 

This is.... so embarrassing. This is literally the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me. Because as a result of this whole thing a whole bunch of humiliations have opened up to me. I have CHANGED since i’ve been on T again, I am going through all kinds of intense emotions and experiences (and they're WONDERFUL oh god I can’t even express how INCREDIBLE I feel on T. I feel so fucking *right* for the first time in my life. It’s like I can’t even process how mentally and emotionally amazing I feel. Physically too. it’s so *right*!!!) and i’m doing things I’ve never done in my life. 

Like BLUSHING!!! I never, ever used to blush and now I go BRIGHT FUCKING RED any time there’s something involving Torchwood or Harkness or any of that whole array of THINGS!!! And Lucy loves this fact because god she can wind me up something CRAZY!!! Which... I *Suppose*.... is the least I owe her :P since she puts up with what she calls my ‘hankering’ And has fed my habit by finding me photos and clips that i’m too fucking chicken to look for myself - now that’s love!!! <3 <3 <3

I’m going to have to wrap this up here because I already in a hot mess right now (you literally have NO IDEA how quickly and easily I fall apart over this stuff!!! Nfjhbkhghkshad stupid fucking PUBERTY) ��but there will be a part 3 at the weekend some time - and if you made it this far you deserve a god damn medal!

[letterstothemidnightsociety]

CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON IS JUST THE WHOLE MOOD FOR 2020, CAN WE ALL AGREE ON THAT?

Oh boy, guys, it’s here. The end. The very end. Tonight, Supernatural says goodbye for real this time. Maybe. Who really ever knows. But I’m not great at goodbyes, so instead let’s go back to the very beginning. It’s Supernatural!

So I’m here, at the season finale of Season 1. Very conveniently on the same day that the show is on the series finale of Season 15. It’s like I planned it, you guys! I did not plan this. 

Also, let’s take a minute to appreciate the irony of using Carry On My Wayward Son in every season finale when the Winchesters will never be done, they’ll never have peace, they will never lay their weary heads to rest. Don’t mind me, I’m just laughing til I cry. 

I genuinely think of the the last two episodes of Season 1 - “Salvation” and “Devil’s Trap” - as if they’re one episode. This is because a) I think they are designed to be a two-parter and b) they’re the only two episodes on the last disc of my box set BUT I think it’s important to note that these two episodes did not air on the same night. There was a week between them and that is...rough for an audience watching in real time. But when I watched it the first time, I was watching this exact dvd disc and of course I plowed right on through the cliffhanger in “Salvation” until the literal car crash that ends “Devil’s Trap”.

This disc! Right here! That has the real soundtrack on it, UNLIKE SOME STREAMING SERVICES!

Let’s look at a couple things: 

Way back in 2006 when these episodes aired, Supernatural’s success was average at best? Even though it’s the 5th most watched show on the WB, it’s averaged a little more than 3 million American viewers per episode, which at the time, wasn’t great. In contrast, the #1 show of the 2005/2006 TV year was American Idol season 1 - an average of 12.7 million viewers per episode. So it’s not exactly a winner of a show, but it’s not too far behind the WB’s #1 show, Smallville, which averaged around 4 million viewers per episode. Still, Supernatural’s fate was uncertain. “Devil’s Trap” aired on May 4, 2006, but the show didn’t get renewed for season 2 until May 18. That’s two weeks of cliffhanger limbo, and lemme tell you, that would have been a real slap in the tits if the show had been cancelled. 

Even further back, though, in January of 2006, it was announced that the WB and UPN would be renouncing their independence and merging under CBS and Time Warner company into what we know today as The CW. It was a network that was frankensteined together from the only working pieces of both networks and honestly I think that was a big reason Supernatural did get renewed. The CW was in need of some kind of programming to kick off the 2006 Fall Season and they greenlit new seasons for 13 of WB’s and UPN’s established programs. For a real blast from the past, here is their list of inaugural shows - 

7th Heaven (WB)

Beauty and the Geek (WB) 

Gilmore Girls (WB) 

One Tree Hill (WB)

Reba (WB)

Smallville (WB)

Supernatural (WB)

America's Next Top Model (UPN)

Veronica Mars (UPN)

Everybody Hates Chris (UPN

Girlfriends (UPN)

All of Us (UPN)

WWE SmackDown! (UPN)

I think my favorite part of this list is that both Gilmore Girls AND Smallville were still on the air, arguably the origin stories for Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles respectively. 

However, there’s evidence that Supernatural was in less danger of cancellation than you might think. In March, around about “Hellhouse” time, Supernatural gets moved from a Tuesday air date to a Thursday air date. If you follow American network TV at all, then you’ll know that Thursday is THE day. Historically, Networks believed this was the best day for programming. Advertisers paid extra for the combination of influencing your weekend plans and also influencing you before the weekend since you’re less likely to be watching TV and more likely to be spending money. Friends aired on Thursdays. Grey’s Anatomy is a Thursday show. Putting Supernatural on Thursday would indicate that the WB had some faith in it, although it’s possible they were simply removing something else that wasn’t working in that 9pm time slot. 

Ratings aside, once we get to the finale Supernatural has a good thing going, and it seems critics agreed. I think the back half of season 1 is where the show really starts to shine and take on the semblance of what it will become. This is where you see it shift from Monster-of-the-Week, anthology-style, to episodes that focused more on character - what I like to call the Feelings Episodes. That’s not to say there won’t be a ton more Monster-of-the-Week episodes, just that those are the B-story line, less important than the Winchesters-Working-Through-Trauma A-story lines. There’s also a greater emphasis on the overarching mythos and story arc of the season in the back half. This is ultimately what carries Supernatural into season 2 and beyond. Everyone from critics to series creator Kripke agreed that the episodes that focused more on the relationships and the internal struggles of the Winchesters was what really captured audiences. 

And all that gooey feelings stuff really comes to a head in the one-two punch that is “Salvation” and “Devil’s Trap”. 

UGH. FEELINGS.

The day of reckoning is finally here - the Winchesters finally know who they’re after, where to go, and how to kill it. Thanks to Sam’s Oh yeah! He’s got ESP!, they know exactly who’s gonna get hit next. The search is finally over, the battle’s about to begin. But it’s not just the Quest that’s winding down, it’s a bunch of character arcs that are coming to light as well. In fact, the Quest really does get pushed aside in favor of big character moves.

John Winchester, hyperfixated on revenge for the past 20 years, is finally close to resolving his grief and guilt over Mary’s death and the way he raised his kids. He tells his sons “whatever it takes” and we know he means it. This plays out in his decision to split up the team, in his willingness to sacrifice his own life so his boys have the opportunity to kill the demon they’ve been hunting all season. 

Who’s fault was THAT, you piece of shit.

Sam Winchester’s own feelings of guilt and grief are also on the cusp of absolution. We see just how similar Sam and John really are, specifically in their reactions to fridged girlfriends lost loves. For the first time this season, Sam follows John’s orders without question or complaint. He doesn’t hesitate to risk his own life to kill the demon, willing to literally walk into fire for a second shot at it. Sam’s here to do whatever it takes, and it’s only because of Dean that he doesn’t. 

Dean, on the other hand, is finally struggling with following John’s orders. I love the scene where John yells specifically at Dean when he finds out about Sam’s visions (watch John’s eyeline, he is NOT looking at Sam on that line) 

Exhibit A, because this show has turned me into a 19YO Stan again and I hate it.

and Dean yells back, pointing out that they were in much more dire straights than death omens and John never picked up the phone, not once, not even when Dean was dying. 

It’s TRUE and he SHOULD SAY IT! And seriously, John, even MEG knows you don’t answer voicemails, that’s why she calls Sam.

More importantly, Dean is not willing to do whatever it takes if whatever it takes means losing what he already has. Dean, who was so gung ho about finding mom’s killer in the beginning of the season, understands better than ever what he stands to lose if he lets his family continue on this path. It’s a real reversal of his attitude from the beginning of the show, but the about-face has happened so gradually over the last 22 episodes that it doesn’t feel out of left field. 

Because that’s what you get when you put Sam and Dean together on a cross-country road trip for nine months! The two grow and change just by proximity and the sheer number of hours they spend in the car together. Over the course of 22 episodes, Dean reminds Sam why they do what they do - saving lives - and Sam reminds Dean what and who they do it for - family, safe and sound and living their best life now. John’s got his own thing going on, so who even cares what his motivations are, I don’t, hurry up and get out of here, John, nobody likes you. 

That being said, “Devil’s Trap” starts with a pretty ruthless Dean performing an exorcism on Meg. He’s not dicking around this episode, and based on the fight he has with Sam in “Salvation”, it makes sense. Dean won’t do whatever it takes just for vengeance, but he will do whatever it takes to save someone, especially if those lives are his brother and his father. You could even extend that motivation into his decision to exorcise the demon and essentially kill Meg Masters - she may be dying, but she’s been saved from being a human meat puppet and unwilling participant to any number of evil things. 

In other news, Bobby Singer is a National Treasure and the Best Part of this Episode and Maybe All Episodes. He doesn’t have a lot going on in this episode, he’s just amazing and I love him forever. 

I had to pull a still from the episode because lookit this glorious mullet that he loses immediately, thank GOODNESS!

After getting a reality check from Dean in “Salvation,” Sam’s still struggling to figure out where he is on this spectrum, and you get to watch him make that decision in real time. He has the choice to be like John, to do whatever it takes to kill the demon, even though that means killing his own father. And he does not hesitate to aim when John tells him to shoot to kill, and that says a LOT. 

But it’s Dean who convinces Sam not to lose himself in this fight, even when he’s so close to winning it. It’s Dean’s tiny little “Sam, no!” that makes Sam put the gun down, and that ALSO says a LOT. 

It also hits me right in my heart meats, just OOF. 

And THEN, just when you think the Winchesters are at their lowest, beat to shit and barely holding on, THEN the show delivers its final blow: they crash a semi into the Impala. 

Listen, I watch a lot of garbage, and I watch that garbage on purpose. Sometimes, that’s just what you want. I don’t rate movies and tv shows on a good to bad scale anymore because some bad movies are GREAT and some good movies are just really terrible and I don’t like watching them. I’ve started talking about movies and tv in terms of whether or not I enjoyed them. Does it spark joy? Will it spark joy in others? 

My legitimate reaction to anything that looks like a dumpster fire.

I enjoy Supernatural. A LOT. And maybe it’s just because my calibration settings are off, but I’d also argue that this season is good. As in, it’s well-crafted, satisfying and (mostly) logical storytelling. Is it perfect? No. It’s a show that aired on the WB in 2005. And when I watched this for the first time in 2008, I didn’t dig too deep into character arcs or story structure, I just liked watching two hot guys fight ghosts and sometimes cry a little. Twelve years later, watching it with a more experienced eye and a more refined palette - er, well, maybe just more educated palette -  I can see the skill that went into crafting this 22-episode long story. 

Well, skill and and a little bit of sheer dumb luck. Cuz remember when I said that Kripke and Co. figured out that the Feelings Episodes ended up doing better than the Monster-of-the-Week episodes? That wasn’t until after they realized what a gift they’d been given in their two leads. It was the chemistry between Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki that both sold the show at the outset and built the foundation for seasons to come. Viewers cared about the show because they cared about the characters. They wanted to see these two beautiful dumpster fires struggle and overcome their internal battles way more than their external ones. If you need proof - I did not once talk about the Yellow-Eyed-Demon motives or plans from this episode. I barely even mention the quest, unless it’s in relation to how the characters are handling it, emotionally, and how that’s impacting others around them. When you come down to it, Supernatural is a show about a family struggling to survive just as much as it is about two guys saving the world, and that’s something that any audience can relate to. I’m never gonna perform an exorcism or face down angels and demons to stop the apocalypse. But I am gonna struggle with insecurity and doubt, grief and anger and family drama. That’s the human element. That’s what connects you to these characters. And when you’re lucky enough to have two lead actors that really sell the hell out of the family dynamics, you're setting up for some serious television gold. 

Fifteen years after this season aired, both of these elements - the story-crafting AND the luck - are more important than ever. No matter what show you’re watching, when you get to a season finale, that finale needs to feel like a set of dominos tipping over. It needs to feel like you’ve set up for that final confrontation both externally (the quest arc) and internally (the character arc). It needs to feel satisfying and motivated when those dominos finally fall. Most importantly, you need to make sure your audience cares about why they’re falling in the first place. Who cares about anybody’s arc if you haven’t built that character connection with your audience in the first place? 

For a TV show looking ahead to season two, all that resolution also needs to ask more questions. It needs to propel us through one conflict and into another. That’s what the finale of this season does. It threads the needle into that sweet spot between conclusion and new beginning. Will our heroes live or die? Will the yellow-eyed demon be defeated? What’s next? And on this side of 2020, how did they keep that momentum going for more than a decade? 

I can’t think of any current show right now that I would follow for 15 years. Hell, I didn’t even follow this show for 15 years. But the longevity of Supernatural means that they’ll be the template for any show looking to last even half as long as they did. And no matter how you feel about this show, you’ve gotta admit that’s heckin’ WILD. 

[annnoel]

Previous part: Wraiths CONTENT WARNING: This story contains murder, decapitation, alcohol and heavy language. Read at your own risk.

Muddy footprints were left in Rhippos wake as he stumbled into a small village, rain bathing the place in a thick mist. Despite the rain some were still wandering about the square, some getting supplies to help them weather the storm until it let up. Rhippo had no care for supplies or a place to stay, he just wanted to drown his sorrows and forget his friend. He stumbled onto a building and placed his hand against the wall, somewhat losing his grip from his rain soaked hands. Regaining his grip he leaned his back against the wall and fell to the floor, taking a swig from a wine bottled he had been carrying with him. Footsteps could be heard coming near him, eventually stopping beside him. "My, you're soaked head to toe! What happened to you?" Rhippo glanced to the side and saw a xweetok holding a lace umbrella leaning down to get a better look at him. Her body fur was a lilac purple while her hair and mane shimmered a dark violet, her eyes a vibrant pink that almost seemed to glow in the shadows. She wore a black dress with purple floral patters coming up from the bottom as if it was winding across her dress. Rhippo paid no mind to her and let out a heavy huff before turning away from her. "Are you doing alright? Do you need any sort of help with shelter or such?" She asked as she leaned down closer to Rhippo. "Go fuck yourself, I don't need any help." Rhippo let out before taking another swig from his wine bottle. "By Gods, such language! You shouldn't talk to someone who offered you help in such a way!" She stood herself back up and placed her hand on her breast, letting out a scoff. "I can talk to you however the fuck I want, like I give two shits about what people think about me." Rhippo peered into the bottle before tilting it, a single drop falling from the brim into his lap. Rhippo flung the bottle to the side, the sound of glass clanging as it ran over rocks and dirt. The xweetok furrowed her brow and pursed her lips, contemplating on how she could get him to talk about his situation. "Sounds like someone you knew betrayed your trust in a way."  She said softly as she scratched at her face, implying how Rhippo had gotten the scar across his face. "Nobody betrayed my trust, I betrayed someone elses trust thanks to my desperation. I tried to help her, and now she wants nothing to do with me." Rhippo let our a heavy sigh before dropping his head into his legs. "How did you betray her trust?" Rhippo clenched his fists onto his knees and slowly raised his head up, glaring back at the xweetok. "You of all people should know why." Rhippo hissed. "I beg your pardon?" She asked as she backed up, clenching her umbrellas handle. "I know it's you wraith, your act is as unpolished as your looks." In a flash all her clothes fell to the floor, the umbrella splashing onto some wet rocks. The black mass manifested next to Rhippo, turning into the xweetok he met before. She held her face in her hands, the lower half of her legs raised in the air crossed. "Guess I'm a bit of an open book now aren't I?" Rhippo snarled at her. "What the fuck do you want with me?" "Oh, I always check back up on my clients to see how they're doing! I see in your case it didn't end too well." "Like HELL it did-" Rhippo slammed his hand down where her head was, but she wisped away before he could grab her. She manifested behind him and wrapped her arm around his neck. "You really thought you could get me like that? Oh that's so very cute." She rested her other arm on top of his head, pressing her cheek onto his. Rhippo clawed at her arm, but his claws just phased through her arm. "Also, I can tell you got yourself a wraith as well, I can feel them. Gave you a bit of a struggle now, didn't they?" She ran a finger on top of the scar covering his face. Rhippo yelled and stood up, getting the wraith to finally manifest off of him. "You need to just- get the hell away from me. You ruined my life enough, and I don't want you near me ever again!" Rhippos words slurred as they came out, barely just forming a coherent sentence in his anger. "Alright, I'll leave! I was just checking up on you," She winked as she backed herself up, "Maybe you can take this opportunity to restart your life, create a fresh start, make a new you! I feel it would do you some good." He lunged at her but she disappeared into the air before he could grab her, the last of the black wisps faded into the air as Rhippo looked down at his hands. He clenched his fists and yelled into the air before falling to his knees, wrapping his arms onto his head and letting out another desperate scream. He pushed his hair back as he stood himself back up, leaning against the wall as he regained his footing. He staggered back to the entrance of the forest, kicking the wine bottle away as he entered. Rhippo wandered through the woods, barely able to keep himself upright as he would catch himself on nearby trees. He stopped and leaned himself against a tree, his breath forming small clouds of mist in the rain while he panted. As he was about to get back up, he heard a voice in the distance. Listening in he could tell it was elderly, the tone shaky and struggling to get louder as it called for help. A krawk green in tone like Rhippo walked through the frame, holding a makeshift cane as he propped himself on the nearby trees, struggling to keep himself up. Maybe you can take this opportunity to restart your life, create a fresh start, make a new you! I feel it would do you some good. Make a new me Rhippo thought. Create a fresh start, start new. Restart your life, restart your life, restart your life... The voices of reason were drowned out as he wandered towards the elderly krawk, the thought of restarting his life repeating over and over in his mind. His chest and face started to burn intensely, his hands trembling as he wandered closer to the krawk. Rhippo placed his hand against a tree trunk and leaned against it, the krawk hearing him and turning back to Rhippo. "Oh, thank the Gods! C-can you show me where the nearest village is? I got a bit lost in these woods." The krawk trembled, clutching his cane to keep his balance. Rhippo just stared down the krawk, the way he looked reminding him so much of himself. Maybe this was another trick from the wraith? Maybe he's finally gone insane from his sadness? Or possibly drunken hallucinations manifesting in the foggy rain? It didn't matter to him, he wanted him gone. "Make a new me." Black snake like tendrils manifested from Rhippos back, pointed straight down onto the elderly krawk. The krawk gasped as he backed up, dropping his cane and leaning against a tree. "Make a new me!" Rhippo repeated, cackling madly as the snaky tendrils inched closer to the krawk. He tried to run, but all four tendrils shot down at him in a split second. A pained scream rang into the evening rain, birds flying off as it echoed through the forest. *~* Tendrils reached down and grabbed the top of the deceased krawks head, twisting it off as the sound of bones snapping and flesh tearing rang through his head. He removed anything inside the head he didn't want before sitting himself down, dropping the skull into his lap. He used his claws to rip off any skin and hair until nothing but the bone was left. As he brushed off any leftover blood, he placed the skull on top of his head. It was a bit big on him, but that didn't bother him. He sat as he felt the weight of the skull rest on his head, glancing back at the body as the tendrils came into frame. Black and pink wisps ran up the wraithy tendrils as pink spots scattered the top, forming where the rain came down onto them. Rhippo stared back down and played with his fingers, letting out a low cackle and slowly raising his voice until it rang out through the forest. "Make a new me!" Rhippo trembled out. He leaned forward and slammed his hands into the mud, cackling as streams of tears trickled down his face. "Make a new me!" He yelled out as his cackles rang through the misty rain. His cackling shifted to pained sobs as he folded into himself, wailing as he continually repeated the phrase over and over again. Make a new me. ---------------- DID Y'ALL WANNA KNOW HOW RHIPPO GOT HIS SKULL?? No??? WELL NOW YOU DO! I had been wanting to make a sequel to his last piece for a while now, but never knew how to approach it. I always knew it'd be him having some major depressimos and drunk but thats kinda all i knew i got some inspiration recently though from the most recent episode of primal (Plague of Madness) + In This Moments newest album. The two combined just gave me major creepy vibes and made me wanna write something creepy and unsettling, which resulted in this! Hopefully I get the idea i wanted across. Characters losing touch with reality for one reason or another can be hard to write because it can be hard making sense of their actions if not written properly. I MEAAANN TECHNICALLY if the character is losing touch with reality and going insane it doesn't need to make sense, but in this case where he isn't really going insane and is just very drunk and cant really form reasonable thoughts it was a bit harder. But again, hopefully i get what i wanted across!! I had to rewrite this a bunch and might still rewrite it again since some parts I felt weren't that well structured and feel very jarring. Either way, I still had SO much fun with this and i love the whole idea of the story. I already have some sequel stories i wanna make up for this. I never thought i'd hyperfixate on rhippo of all characters fjkghdkjfg

[aceselfships]

nightmares.

wrow why am i on a sudden kick for this man anyway.

comfort fluff!! im sure u can guess what’s happening from the title. plotless, but set after the events of the first movie. enjoy it guys!!

ship: life found a way, i guess.

The clock read some early hour of the morning, and the rain pattered softly on the screen on the other side of the window. A cool breeze crept through the cracked window, bringing in the scent of freshwater and city nights with it, mixing in with the scent of books and coffee.

Ian wasn’t asleep.

He couldn’t bring himself to. There were too many things his mind could go to in sleep, too many horrible, dark, nightmarish things that he’d already gone through and didn’t want to relive again, even if they were just nightmares. He had gone through enough horrible things in his life, but he’d managed to get through them and cope, but what he had gone through on the island… he doubted that he would ever get around or through that. How do you even cope with nearly getting killed and eaten by dinosaurs anyway? There was no modern therapy for that, there was only the people with shared experiences who still needed to work through it themselves.

Alan, Ellie, Hammond, Lex, Tim…. Michelle.

The brunette was surprisingly asleep in his bed, as he turned to look at her. Her back was to him, hair a mess and curled in on herself, as she often did when he wasn’t sleeping next to her. The chaotician sighed, running a hand through his dark curls before taking another sip of his coffee. He was surprised Michelle could sleep through all of this, but if there was one thing he knew about her, she had never been able to pull an all nighter. Even directly after the incident at the park, she was barely getting through the flight back to Austin before she collapsed and fell in and out of sleep for an odd number of hours at his apartment. He, on the other hand, being a studlier of chaos, a teacher of it, and having a bad habit of hyperfixating and overworking himself, was used to caffeine filled nights stretching on for weeks. The bags under his eyes were proof enough of that. How long had it been since they were this big, anyway?

Malcolm stared out the window, at the city lights beyond it. His mind thought back to the excitement Michelle had shared when he told her about Gennaro’s offer to take him to Hammond’s park, how she grabbed his hands and grinned and laughed about a place called Jurassic Park, how she begged him to go along, saying it could be like a fun couple’s outing for them. He’d laughed at her adorable, endearing enthusiasm, asking Gennaro if it was alright, who in turn asked Hammond, and the answer had been yes.

She’d given him the biggest, tightest hug after that. She only hugged him like that when she was extremely happy, like how she had hugged him after he’d asked her out the first time, after they’d shared their first kiss, after he had asked her to move in with him. He wouldn’t mind one of those hugs again, but he would never tell her about it- they were much better when they weren’t asked for.

Ian feels the blankets shift behind him, and he turns, curious. Michelle had curled even further in on herself, and it took him a second to realize she was whimpering. He sets the coffee on the nightstand hastily, climbing gingerly onto the bed. His girlfriend was whimpering and shaking, crying quietly. Her mumbles were unintelligible, but judging by how she was acting, trembling and twitching and tense, he knew what it was.

More nightmares.

His hand tenderly reaches out, but he doesn’t touch her- he didn’t know how she would react. “Mich?” His voice is low and quiet as he gets closer to her, enough to not touch her, but close enough to be in proximity if she needed him. “Honey? Peaches? H-hey, hey now, c’mon… wake up. Wake up. Whatever you’re seeing, whatever you’re feeling, i-it’s not real. ‘S just a nightmare, sweetheart.”

Her mouth opens in a silent scream, before a sob breaks out of her throat.

“Please,” he says, more desperate than before, “please wake up, Peaches.”

It worked. She snaps awake with a scream, bolting up from the bed and nearly knocking into him. Ian jumps back to get out of her way as she rockets up, scream silencing into heavy, laboured breathing. Her brown hair was tousled into even more of a mess, her eyes wide and fearful. Sweat dripped down her forehead, he noticed as she slowly turned to look at him after a few moments of silence.

“... Ian?” Her normally sure voice was quiet and shaky, like a piece of paper in the wind. “W-where… where are we?”

“Home, honey. We’re home in Austin.”

“A-are you sure? P-please, can, can you, can you, uh, uh please, check outside…”

He nods, getting up to look out the window for her sake. They were high in the apartment building, the city lights glowing outside the window, reflecting off of the drops of rain on the window. He opened the cracked one a little further, not caring if water got into the room and on the floor- it was hardwood anyway, and Michelle needed something real to feel.

“No dinosaurs out here.” Ian assures her, looking at the street below. Nothing but a lit street with a car or two passing by. Just the quietness of a rainy city…. Well, as quiet as a city can get.

“Are y-you sure?” She stutters from the bed, and he chuckles.

“What, are you just now starting to doubt me, sweetheart?”

His comment makes her smile at him, but only a little, on her tear streaked cheeks and through her shaky breaths. The chaotician slowly sits back on the bed, meeting her eyes, a wordless question. Michelle nods, and he gently takes her hand in his, running his thumb over her knuckles- an anti-anxiety practice he used with her.

“We’re safe, darling. Nothing is gonna, uh, gonna get us up here.”

Its after a few minutes that he sees her calm herself down, closing her eyes and taking in a few deep breaths. Michelle was managing it better now, and he was proud of her for that, kissing her knuckles and smiling. After a few more deep breaths, she opened her eyes and cleared her throat, reaching to talk again.

“Ian?”

“Mm?”

“... Can we cuddle?”

He sighs, rolling his eyes, faking exasperation. “D’ ya really need to ask, Peaches?” That earns him a giggle as they hunker down under the blankets, resting her head on his chest. His coffee long forgotten, Ian knew he could last through the night if it meant watching over her.

“Thanks, Patches.” Comes her tired mumble, reaching up to kiss his neck.

“You’re welcome.” He beams, threading his fingers through her long hair. She sighs in content, smiling against his chest, but he wasn’t done yet.

Michelle could already feel sleep starting to grasp at her again, before Ian’s low voice filled her ears:

“... Take me home tonight, I don’t wanna let you go ‘til you see the light…”

[kirinda-ondo]

Rant/tell me about Cobalt and why u love him so much??

Ok so this is probably going to get very long, and very, very cheesy, and I hope y’all are ready for this.

Cobalt is a very special character to me and is absolutely my favorite character of all time, from anything in the history of ever. It doesn’t matter what other fandom I’m hyperfixated on or what character I’m saying is my son at the moment, if you bring him up at any time, in any context I will be there.

So you’re probably wondering how I got here.

Once upon a time, it was 2009 and I was a young weeaboo, constantly absorbing everything anime or manga I could. I had just come out from the Astro Boy movie, and I immediately wanted to watch the source material. I’d already seen a bit of it on adult swim when they were running an Astro Boy marathon, but I had to go to bed at 11:30 then so I didn’t get to see much. So this time, I went to youtube and I found all the (dubbed) episodes of the 60s series. (Sadly you can’t find them all there anymore and it’s a crying shame).

I basically marathoned them, but over in the sidebar where the recommendations were, I kept seeing the thumbnail for part 2 or 3 (this was back when youtube only let you post 10 minute videos and you had to watch anime in 3 parts) of the episode “Brother Jetto.” You could plainly see him, and so it was clear this was supposed to be Astro’s brother. I thought it was neat that Astro even had a brother, as I’d only known about Uran before. I wanted to know more, but I promised myself I wouldn’t skip ahead. Though it was very tempting at times, I stuck to my guns and watched all 83 episodes up to that point.

However, it was not actually love at first sight. When I finally got to this episode 84, I wasn’t really impressed. “Wow, he’s kind of annoying, what’s the point?” I had thought like a fool, but I was still willing to accept him as part of the canon, as I figured I’d be seeing a lot more of him now that he had been introduced. After all, that’s what they did with Uran! But then…. that pretty much didn’t happen at all, which I thought was kind of weird. After all, why introduce a new sibling if he’s not going to show up again?

But then I got to the episode “A Deep, Deep Secret” about 6 episodes later, and I found myself a little relieved that he wasn’t completely canned. Upon watching that episode, I’d found that he’d started to grow on me a bit, but he still wasn’t my favorite. However, the trend of him being gone for several episodes only to show up once in a blue moon continued until I’d run out of episodes. I moved on to the 80s series next (and then the 2003 series) having learned that Cobalt had been replaced by Atlas as Astro’s brother. While I enjoyed those series (the 80s one a bit moreso than the 2003 one), I found myself kind of missing Astro’s dingus brother that had barely seemed to get a chance. After marathoning all the series (at the time), I started doing some googling and found out he had a slightly better run in the undubbed Japanese episodes (which was also how I discovered AB-O! Hi fandom!) and I’d learned a lot more about him. But the most important thing I’d learned was that I was in fact very emotionally invested in this character now and I was in deep.

Mind you at this time the undubbed Japanese episodes were nearly impossible to find without purchasing the complete DVD set and a player that could play them (on account of the fact that the set was region locked from western DVD players) so for years I sat wondering more about what those Japanese episodes were like, as the forums only had plot summaries with a handful of screencaps to go off of. Nowadays you can watch all the undubbed (and sadly unsubbed) episodes here but 13 year old me did not have the knowledge to do foreign language googling at the time.

But still, my Cobalt-loving heart wanted more, so I scoured the English speaking internet for whatever I could find, official or fanmade. Official content was virtually nonexistent, and the amount of fanmade content, I could count on one hand. The general fan consensus at the time seemed to be “Who the hell is Cobalt” or “Eh, whatever,” which was a far cry from how it is now. But being horribly deprived back then, I did the only thing I could: I combed through the dub for every episode he was in, coming up with a whopping total of…..four (well technically five but in that one he’s literally only in the last five seconds with no animation or lines), and I watched them religiously. I could pretty much quote Cobalt’s debut episode by heart. (For the record I can no longer do this to the extent I used to, but should the opportunity arise, I can still quote large chunks of it).

As I did this and learned more about him in my desperate googling, I started developing jokes for what would become my first silly comics, for which I am known in this fandom for. The art and writing for these was….. painful, to say the least, so I don’t even like to think about it, but as I’d already had a decently sized following from drawing silly (read: bad) Sonic comics, they caught on decently well, and I’d even managed to drag my friend and son down with me into Cobalt Hell™. Together, we made a group for Cobalt fans on deviantart (which is still up, but I no longer run it, as I deactivated the account that modded it without transferring ownership, so now it’s likely a wild west hellscape that I’m a little scared to look at).

This seemed to help do the trick though, as Cobalt fans were slowly coming out of the woodwork and appreciating this good boy. On and off I’d spread my yelling about Cobalt (and my silly drawings) to different platforms like the Astro Boy forums and tumblr, and even as I got into different things, after awhile, things kinda grew without me. Now I’m not gonna be out here claiming I built this city myself with my own two hands, as a lot of people got dragged into this hell of their own accord, but I do like to think my, umm….passion at least helped generate some interest, and I can’t help but be proud of how far this fandom has come from “Who the hell is Cobalt” to “Look at this good boy, I love him” and literally all the other Cobalt fans I’ve met have been the coolest people (in general, not just because of their good taste).

I think what really changed my life though was when AprilSeven, a mod on the Astro Boy forum and also probably the original Cobalt fan, as she’d seen the 60s version back when it was originally airing, finally got a hold of the undubbed Japanese episodes, and graciously allowed me and a few of the other big-name Cobalt fans get in on that action, and boy howdy, the screenshots and plot summaries really did not do these episodes justice (at least in terms of Cobalt content). My understanding of him as a character expanded like tenfold, and my appreciation of him expanded even more than that.

…Which brings me into a nice segue in which I shift more into just exactly why I like Cobalt so much. Yes, there’s more. I warned y'all, this was gonna be a Pandora’s Box that could not be closed once it was opened.

I honestly just find him a joy to watch. A lot of what made him grow on me was just how funny he is. I’m a sucker for comic relief characters in general, and he has a personality that lends itself to comedy. In the anime version, he’s literally introduced right out the gate as being kind of a dingus. He’s naive, he’s way too trusting of obviously suspicious people, he’s easily confused, he’s easily distracted, he’s a klutz, and he just… regularly destroys the laws of physics and/or the fourth wall just because. Sometimes he also gets weird ideas in his head to do things that could have been done a completely different, easier way and weirdly enough, it actually kind of winds up working? It’s so fun to watch him approach problems because he’s just… so far out there sometimes.

But beyond being absolutely weird and hilarious, he’s just a really sweet kid. He doesn’t like to fight, he wants to make friends with everyone and everything, he will drop literally anything he’s doing, no matter how important it is, to help someone in need, he’s good with babies and small children and puppies (sometimes), he would fight (and sacrifice himself) for his family, and just means well even if he tends to bungle things up and make them worse sometimes. Honestly, and this is gonna sound dumb, but he helped me be a better person. I used to be an absolute asshole when I was younger, but once I’d gotten into Cobalt Hell™, I was like “I wanna be that sweet and good (but with a better sense of stranger danger)” and I made that effort and did that shit.

That being said though, he’s not perfect, and I wouldn’t want him to be. His flaws, though they kind of give him the short end of the stick in life, are a lot of why I find him so endearing. All the naivety and confusion and general lack of coordination I mentioned before aside, he’s honestly just really relatable. He’ll say jokes so bad that Uran wants to punch him, he’ll opt out of the plot because he doesn’t want to get out of bed, he’ll fight with his siblings over silly petty things, he’ll get frustrated if he tries something and it doesn’t go his way, he’ll absolutely partake in his siblings’ mischief (if not start it sometimes), and just so much more. He just feels like a kid you would know (or maybe a kid that you were at one point) and I really appreciate that about him.

Unfortunately, the canon was not kind to Cobalt, and I think a lot of that comes from Osamu Tezuka just… not knowing what to do with him after making him? Like in the manga, he was just kind of created as a really rushed contingency plan because they thought Astro was missing. Sure, he was taken in as part of the family afterward, but not many appearances later, he was killed off in a firey explosion… Until Tezuka decided to change his mind and let him live in the end. His grave’s still there though. He gets to see it. I know it’s a framing device to explain the circumstances of Cobalt’s retconned death but it’s kind of fucked up to let a boy see his own grave..

Even being brought back, Cobalt didn’t get to do very much. He’d get some good scenes with Uran, but a lot of the time, he was sort of just relegated to filling up space in the background, provided he actually survived til the end of the chapter. When he wasn’t getting forgotten by the plot and thusly zapped out of existence, he would wind up sacrificing himself in some way that wouldn’t allow him to continue to take part in the plot anymore (be it parts, energy, etc.) The most painfully egregious example of this is in the chapter “Youth Gas.” Astro and Cobalt are convinced to fight each other to the “death.” They’re not really dead, but Ochanomizu says they are and can’t be repaired. At first, there’s mourning for “two of the world’s greatest robots,” but then we see a funeral service in which only Astro’s body is shown and his parents are only mourning him, completely forgetting Cobalt exists. He’s never seen again for the rest of the chapter. Now I would assume this is just a writing mistake, but it really does make it look like Cobalt’s own parents wouldn’t even bat an eye if he died, so there’s that.

The anime isn’t quite as horrible, and it is kind enough to give Cobalt a more prominent role once he finally shows up (even getting a handful of focus episodes!), but he doesn’t go unscathed either. In this version, he has the misfortune of being created by Dr. Umataro “Father of the Year” Tenma before Astro was made and was scrapped because, to quote dub!Ochan, “his electronic brain wasn’t as perfect as Dr. [Tenma] wanted.” (read: he thought Cobalt was a dumbass). Cobalt is eventually found and brought into the family, but because he still winds up not being relevant to the plot a lot of the time, he is once again zapped out of the existence and looks like a victim of child neglect. As a result, he gets left out of family vacations and holidays, even in favor of Chi-tan, who is usually even higher on the scale of irrelevant Astro Boy characters. Unlike Astro, Cobalt doesn’t have any consistent friends to even remotely justify what he could possibly be doing offscreen by himself, so it just kind of implies a very sad and lonely existence in-universe.

And of course, the final, meta blow that literally every fan of Cobalt is still despairing about to this day: basically being yeeted out of the canon. After the 60s series, he disappeared off the face of the earth until 2015 when some lovely soul decided to bring him back for Peeping Life TV: Season 1?? (The question marks are part of the title). He’d be referenced again a couple years later in Atom: The Beginning, and will be here for the game Eshigami no Kizuna sometime in 2019 as a… moe anime girl. That’s a little weird, but I’m hoping these sorts of weird appearances will mean a trend toward putting him back in the canon (and hopefully being treated better).

It just hurts my heart to see such a good character get treated like this by canon. He deserves way better and it just seems really clear to me that Tezuka didn’t really know what to do with him. I feel like he has a lot of potential as a character, though. Regardless of what origin you pick for him, Cobalt is essentially existing as a worse version of Astro. I feel like you could have some good character development regarding how he would feel about himself in relation to Astro in sort of a parallel to how Astro might feel about himself in relation to Tobio, the person he was based off of. You could go some neat places with these sort of questions about identity and expectations, I think. Or if you want to just do something funny because your character arcs are getting too real now, you can just let Cobalt do some silly shit. He’s a versatile character!

I’ve done all this rambling and now I’m not really sure how to wrap all this up, so umm

Cobalt is a good boy and deserves better, please hire me Tezuka Productions, and thank you for coming to my TED Talk

[itsallavengers]

Take Me For A Spin

Commission for @fd1922 , who asked:

Steve is a Police Officer and pulls Tony over for speeding. Tony has no luck charming or bribing him and swears to make Steve’s life hell for giving him a ticket, however nothing works as he plans.

This comes in at 10k

Tony had to admit, he probably hadn’t thought this through.

 It was late. The roads were empty. And come on, he’d just finished touching up the sports car he’d been painstakingly hyperfixating on for God only knows how long. That thing was his baby. He loved his car. He’d missed business meetings and weapons demonstrations and charity galas and sex in order to finish this car- that was how serious he’d been about it. And when it had been finished, his first thought had simply been ‘how fast will this thing go?’

And, y’know- the empty roads that winded around the coastline next to his house were right there. In his mind, the idea of taking it all the way to some racetrack for testing was just stupid.

Except for the fact that racetracks tended not to have cops that would chase after you if you started going fifty-odd miles over the speeding limit. That… probably should have been something he had taken into consideration, really.

He flicked his eyes up to the mirror and frowned as the motorbike with the flashing blue lights tried to catch up with him. Tony glanced down to the dash to see- whoa, okay, yeah, perhaps 110 mph was a little bit speedy. He was pretty sure the limit on this road was like, 65.

Whoops.

What cops waited around on empty roads like this one anyway? At 4:56 in the God Damned morning? Come on, this was hardly Tony’s fault.

Groaning in annoyance, he put his foot on the break as slowed himself down. Not that he couldn’t just pay the fine with the spare change in his pocket right there and then, but the cop might talk about removing his licence or something, and then he’d have to jump through all these damn hoops and he really couldn’t be bothered with that at 5 in the morning.

 Well. 110 wasn’t that bad, really. And Tony had charmed his way out of worse.

 Pulling over, Tony shut his eyes and sighed as he leaned back against the headrest. He hoped it was a woman. Power of averages usually meant that women were easier to flirt with, and he could use a little bit of luck right about n-

The motorbike pulled up behind him, and Tony could see immediately that nope, today there would be no luck for him. That was a guy. That was… a built guy, damn, Tony could see that from all the way back in his damn car.

The man dismounted effortlessly from his bike, and Tony watched as he pulled off his helmet and let it rest on the seat. The only thought that really popped into his mind after that was ‘wow’.

Adonis-Cop marched over, his back straight, his blonde hair sticking up at all angles from the helmet he’d previously had on, and Tony simply watched him through the rear-view mirror, mouth going dry. Okay, yeah, he was definitely changing his mind- he had to thank whatever God was watching him right then and there that this was not a woman, and was in fact a hunky 6-foot beauty. Holy shit. Tony didn’t think he’d ever seen someone so attractive in his life. And that was saying something; he worked alongside Pepper Potts.

He refrained the urge to rev up the engine as Adonis-Cop made his way over to the driver’s seat. That would be crass.

Tony rolled down the window and looked up, smiling at Adonis-Cop with his white teeth. He’d shaved earlier that night, too, so at least he didn’t look scruffy. “Well hello, Offic-“

“Do you know how fast you’re going, sir?” Adonis-Cop cut in swiftly, arms folded, entirely unimpressed in front of him.

Tony stopped, glancing at his dash and then looking back up with another smile. “Well right now, Officer, I’m currently at zero.”

The cop didn’t even blink, but the look on his face made Tony certain that he was going to be one tough nut to crack. Tony couldn’t even blame him- anyone out at this time on the worst most boring shift in the whole world would undoubtedly be in a pissy mood. Tony would be lucky to get anything out of this at all except a hefty fine and some points added to his damned license, again.

“That was over 100 miles an hour back there,” Adonis-Cop waved down the road and then turned back, a dry look on his face. “The limit is 65.”

“Oh, my bad.” He shrugged, and then shot the Greek God-like cop a quick onceover. “What’s your name then, handsome?” He chose wisely to ignore the cop’s previous statements as he tapped his fingers against the wheel and grinned. “And how, may I ask, have I never seen you in these parts before?”

The cop looked at him, jaw clenching. “Rogers, sir. Officer Rogers. And I don’t see why you would be seeing me, unless you’re used to getting stopped by cops on a regular basis?” Rogers raised an eyebrow and hummed.

Tony was about to open his mouth and respond when something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Behind Rogers was his bike; the ugly yellow painting that signified he was a cop standing out like an eyesore against the craggy roadside. It seemed fine to the average eye- but Tony was no average eye, and his brow creased as he zoned in on the machine.

A second later, he opened the door and stepped outside, neatly sidestepping Officer Adonis and shuffling toward the bike. Rogers turned with him, and Tony guessed there was a slightly confused look on his face. “Uh- sir-“

“Please, call me Tony,” he crouched down next to the bike and trailed his fingers across the metalwork. “I hate being called sir.”

“Okay then, Tony, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from th-“

“Did you know you’ve got a part of the exoskeleton just hanging off up here?” Tony gestured to a piece toward the back of the bike, around where Rogers’ feet would usually sit, and frowned in concern. It was slightly elevated away from the rest of the bike, and when Tony pressed against it, it creaked back into place before falling down again once his fingers left.

Rogers spluttered a little bit, and then when Tony turned to him, he noticed his cheeks had turned a little pink under the half-light of dawn. “I- Sir, Tony, that is none of your concern, I think we should focus on the matter at hand here-“

“Uh, the matter of hand here is that if you turned too sharp and this hit the concrete, you’re dead, buddy.” Tony shot him an incredulous look. “Why haven’t you gone to get this fixed?”

There was the sound of shuffling feet, and then Tony watched Rogers’ enormous shoulders shrug up and down. “I… uh, I’ve already broken two other bikes. Precinct said if I did it again I’d be paying from my own wage. Can’t exactly… afford that. It’s fine. I make sure to be careful around bends.”

Tony gaped at him, and then scoffed. “Well that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever fucking heard.” He stood back up and then marched forward, pulling open the door of his car and then slipping in before looking back up to a thoroughly bewildered Rogers. “Come on. You’re coming with me.”

Rogers blinked. “No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“No, Tony, I am not. I need to give you your ticket and you need to be on your way-“

“You can give me the damn ticket back at my place, but for now, I’m telling you to come with me so I can sort out your bike before you fall off and die.” He fluttered his eyelashes dramatically and tilted his head. “Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Rogers just huffed incredulously. “Sir, I like to make a point not to drive home with strangers who I’ve just had to give speeding tickets to.”

Tony watched him for a moment, before it clicked into place and his eyes widened in shock. “You don’t know who I am, do you,” he stated blankly.

Rogers seemed almost amused by that, cocking his head and holding back a smile. “Should I?” He asked.

Tony paused for a moment, and then in answer, he pulled out his wallet from the back of his pocket and handed over his licence to Rogers, before turning back and staring out into the road. He waited the two seconds it took for things to suddenly click in Rogers’ mind, and then he heard the audible gasp and muttered curse from outside the car.

“Tony Stark,” Rogers read out dumbly, “uh… oh. You’re the… the genius guy. The one on the news all the time. Oh.”

Tony turned his head back around, smiling as brightly as he could. “Am I allowed to fix your bike and possibly save your life now, Officer Rogers?” He asked.

The man open and shut his mouth like a goldfish for a few seconds, before looking back to his bike. “I can’t afford it, I already-“

“What, you think I’m gonna charge for this? It’ll take me like, two seconds. And if you hadn’t already gathered, I’m kind of rich as fuck. It’s fine. Freebie.”

Rogers frowned, as if that was just a little too good to be true. Tony figured it probably was pretty unusual, not the usual kind of scenario Officer Rogers would be having to deal with on his nightly shift.

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity of contemplation from the other man, Rogers threw up his hands in surrender. “Fuck it. Alright. I’m still fining you for speeding though, alright? This isn’t like, bribery. I’m just letting you do me a favour.”

“Don’t worry, your morality is still intact,” Tony rolled his eyes and slid a hand through his hair, gesturing to the motorcycle. “Just drive behind me until we get back to my place- and please, no sharp turns.”

“If you don’t speed, then we have a deal.”

Tony flashed a grin, turning back to the road and then revving up the engine like he’d wanted to do at the very start. “No promises, darling.”

    *

    He ended up sticking to the speed limits, if only to stop Rogers from following him and then crashing his faulty fucking bike. He got the feeling that the man would be petty enough to try it, even if it meant his death. Officer Rogers just seemed to radiate that sort of pettiness.

They pulled up to his mansion ten minutes later, and Tony got to watch as Rogers took off his helmet and released that floppy hair all over his face again. It truly was a wonderful sight to behold.

Rogers looked to him, shuffling a little awkwardly on his feet. “This is a… big place,” he stated in the end, looking up at the grand architecture with something akin to awe on his face.

Tony grinned, slipping out of the car. “Sure is,” he said airily, “gotta fit my big personality in there.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Rogers said, a wry note to his voice. Tony glanced at him once, before shaking his head and then walking over to the bike. He got down on his haunches again, stroking the machine gently.

“What’s the nasty cop done to you then, hmm?” Tony asked it softly, whilst Rogers just snorted up above. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll get you fixed in no time.” He looked up, and then glanced to the keys in Rogers’ hand. “I can ride it over to the transport deck and then you can just wait up in the lounge area if you want. Shouldn’t take more than half an hour-“

“I’d rather be there, if you don’t mind.” Rogers told him with an air that spoke of no argument. Seemed he was still a little bit tense about the whole thing. “I can ride it over, don’t worry.”

Tony just shrugged, gesturing the way. Rogers mounted swiftly, and Tony got a lovely view of the rather perfectly formed ass of his as he went, which was certainly a plus. They both made their way down to Tony’s garage where he kept all his tools, and as soon as Tony got inside, he instantly shucked off his jacket, knowing he would probably ruin it completely if he kept it on for a moment more. He clapped his hands once, and all the lights in the room flickered on. Rogers turned in surprise, and that look of awe was back on his face as he stared around the room at all the fancy cars and shining equipment that surrounded them. Tony hid a grin- nothing better than showing off to a pretty blond. And really, officer Rogers was the prettiest blond Tony had seen in a long time.

“Get comfy,” Tony gestured to the couch in the corner of the room, “entertain yourself for a while.”

“What are you gonna do to it?” Rogers asked, walking over to his bike with curiosity instead of the couch.

Tony made a vague gesture. “Solder it back up, nothing much. Looks like your suspension is a little worn-out too, so I might have a mess around with that.” He turned to Steve and shot him a little wink. “If this doesn’t get me out of points on my license, I really do not know what will.”

Rogers huffed and rolled his eyes. “Make no promises, Stark.”

“Ah, well that wasn’t a no, was it?” Tony tilted his head and then turned around to the bike, sitting down on his ass with his legs crossed. He glanced behind and spotted Rogers smiling at his back, face somewhat incredulous.

He settled down into his work, vaguely aware that Rogers was on a stool behind him, fiddling with a pen and paper on the desk as he watched Tony work.

“This feels kinda surreal,” Rogers admitted after a while, and Tony laughed a little as he wrenched a bolt into place. “And also wildly unprofessional.”

Tony shrugged. “It’s a shit job anyway.”

“I…” Steve audibly sighed. “Yeah, it’s true. You’re the first person I’ve even seen on that highway since I got the damned job.”

Tony paused, looking toward Rogers pityingly. The man just shrugged, and his smile was a little weary. “Something’s gotta pay for my apartment, Mr Stark. The early morning shift on a road no one even drives down just happens to be the thing that’ll get me the money.”

I’ll pay it, Tony almost said for a moment; a throwaway comment in the back of his mind. He didn’t, of course- he hadn’t even known Rogers for more than an hour and he already knew there was no way the man would take it. Far too prideful for that. Plus, Pepper had warned him that doing things like that tended to freak normal people out, and that wasn’t exactly what he wanted here. He’d moved on past charming himself out of a ticket to downright wooing techniques here, ever since he’d seen Rogers smile. It was a very, very nice smile. Tony wanted to see it more.

“My name’s Steve, by the way,” Rogers- well, Tony supposed it was Steve now- told him after a moment of silence. “Figured I should probably be on first-name basis with you now, seeing as you’re doing this for me.”

Tony waved a hand. “No problem, Ro- Steve. I could do this in my sleep, honestly.”

Steve chuckled, fiddling at the hem of his uniform. His damn shoulders could barely even fit into the thing, and Tony could see the buttons stretching around his chest. It should just look ridiculous, but it most certainly did not. Tony wanted to rip the damn thing right off him.

Maybe he’d keep the hat on, though.

Some time passed before he noticed Steve moving around the garage, and as he turned his head to check what he was doing, he saw the man looking down at the car that Tony had been speeding around in that night. His eyes were curious, and he had a face like that of a child in a candy shop. Tony got the feeling that Steve Rogers rarely got see expensive cars like that.

“What make is this?” Steve asked after a second, when he realized Tony was looking. “It’s stunning. I’ve never seen it before.”

“That’s because it’s not on the market,” Tony spun around and grinned, unable to stop the flutter of pride. “It’s mine. I built it.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “You’re joking. Seriously? All of it?”

“All of it.”

Pale fingers brushed over the dark purple paintwork delicately. “Wow,” Steve breathed, turning to him. “That’s amazing.”

Tony couldn’t help but preen, and he sat up a little straighter. “Zero to sixty in 1.9 seconds,” he winked again at Steve’s sharp exhale. “You see why I wanted to give her a spin as soon as I could?”

“You’re bullshitting,” Steve shook his head firmly. “No way. Fastest car in the world can’t even get that far.”

“Well darling, that’s not the fastest car in the world any more, is it?” Tony leaned forward on his elbows and grinned wolfishly, feeding off Steve’s disbelief. So sue him, he was a bit of an attention whore when it came to impressing people of the likes of Mr Adonis Rogers. “Anyway, Bugatti bought blueprints for the engine they used off Stark Industries, AKA myself, anyway. So technically, I was just breaking my own record.”

Steve said nothing, but then he laughed somewhat hysterically. “I cannot believe this is happening to me at-” he glanced down at his watch, “-six in the morning. I feel as if I might be dreaming.”

Tony turned back to the motorbike, a smile on his face. “I’ll let you ride it if you agree to drop the speeding ticket.”

That brought on a longer pause, and Tony almost thought he’d got it, but then Steve scoffed. “No chance, Stark.”

Tony just laughed. Stubborn fucking bastard.

 They talked through the rest of the night (or, Tony supposed, early morning), and next time Tony looked up, the morning sun was filtering through the basement windows. He blinked, looking down at the motorbike under his hands. He’d fixed up the loose attachment in the first twenty minutes- since then he’d just been tinkering and making upgrades as he talked to Steve.

Huh. He wasn’t sure when the last time had been that he’d managed to talk to someone that long, with barely a pause.

 “Done,” he clapped his hands and shook the thought from his head, looking over to Steve who was now lounging over the desk and stroking the pencil over a pad of paper absently. He had beautiful hands, Tony noted. Agile. Strong. And God, the man’s biceps were probably bigger than Tony’s entire head. He really was… beautiful.

“Great!” Steve beamed at him, sitting up straighter, and Tony blinked as he snapped back into focus. Don’t think about Steve’s biceps. Don’t think about Steve’s biceps. Don’t think about Steve’s biceps. “Thank you, Tony. Really, this was great of you. I really appreciate it.”

Tony watched Steve as he inspected the bike in curiosity, his hands moving over the bike fondly. Steve probably wouldn’t notice any of the other modifications until he actually rode the thing, and so Tony kept his mouth shut about it. He preferred surprising him.

They brought the thing out from the garage, still chatting as they went. By that time, the sun was up and sending golden bursts of light over Steve’s face, his hair. He glowed under the sunbeams. His eyes were like oceans.

Oh God, since when had Tony become Shakespeare? This was just embarrassing.

“Well, I should probably get going,” Steve gestured awkwardly toward the gates of Tony’s mansion. “Thank you again. You did me a really big favour there. Oh, and before I forget-“ he shuffled around in his pockets, before pulling out the ticket pad with a wry smile.

Tony’s face fell, and he sighed loudly. “Really? After everything we’ve been through, Steven?”

“This was always the deal.”

“Oh, come on, I cannot believe-“

“110 miles per hour, Tony. 110. I have to do my job, unfortunately. I’m sure you’ll be able to scrape together the funds.” Steve shot him a dry look and then glanced over to Tony’s larger than life mansion, before breaking out into a small smile and then tearing off the ticket, holding it out for Tony to take with a look on his face that was far too smug for his liking.

Tony glared at him for a moment, before pinching the paper between two fingers and snatching it down, glaring at it mutinously. “I’m very offended at this betrayal,” he declared sulkily.

Steve beamed at him. Tony ended up grinning back. Damn it.

“Don’t let me catch you at that speed again, you hear me?” Steve called out behind him, mounting the bike once more and slipping the helmet onto his head. Tony folded his arms and watched him.

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“I mean- I could get you arrested, so technically-“

“Alright, alright, don’t pull me up on technicalities, I’ve been awake for two days.” Tony waved him off with a huff, catching the man’s blue eyes through the visor and tamping down a smile. He opened his mouth, trying to figure out the right way to ask the officer who had ticketed him for speeding if he wanted to go get coffee sometime- somehow it felt harder than just asking your average Joe, really. Plus, he didn’t even know if Steve swung that way. He’d been getting that vibe, maybe, but that wasn’t exactly conclusive proof, and Tony didn’t really fancy getting rejected by what was probably the hottest and strangely genuine man he’d ever met in his entire life-

Of course, he was so lost in thought that by the time he managed to snap out of it and just ask, Steve was already revving up the engine and looking back down Tony’s driveway.

“Thanks for everything, Tony! Stay safe on the roads!” Steve called, waving a hand- and then he was gone, zooming down the concrete in what Tony was certain was over the speed limit.

Bastard.

He watched Officer Steve Rogers’ back as it disappeared around the corner, mouth still half-open with words he’d never been able to speak, and felt himself deflate a little. Not that he’d really been expecting anything from that, but…

Well. He’d had a nice night, that was all.

    *

    It was three days later until Tony had his idea.

 Halfway through a mouthful of lucky charms he’d been eating directly from the box, he inhaled sharply and then shot a look off to the clock on the counter. 4:13am. Insomnia was being a bitch again- but in this one instance, it may just have been his silver lining.

“JARVIS, I’m going out,” Tony declared, jumping off the counter and brushing crumbs from his shirt.

“Of course you are, Sir,” JARVIS answered, somewhat despairingly. “May I ask what the nature of this trip is?”

“True love.”

“That does make perfect sense. Will I need to have the Emergency Services on standby?”

Tony paused, before thinking it over and shrugging. “I don’t think so. I am merely going to do my best at wooing a particularly sarcastic Police officer who booked me for speeding a few days ago.”

“In that case, I wish you the best of luck, sir,” JARVIS told him, before adding in a quieter tone, “and will inform the fire services that something may possibly explode.”

Tony looked at the security camera, unimpressed. If JARVIS had a human body, he would’ve shrugged. “I am simply thinking ahead. Your track record with ‘wooing’ people has been almost comically disastrous so far.”

“Shut up, you stupid robot,” Tony groused, grabbing his keys and sticking his middle finger up into the empty room. JARVIS may have had a point there, but that didn’t mean that he had to say it.

Anyway. This time was going to be different. Tony was going to woo the fuck out of Officer Steve Rogers.

 Slipping into the car that had got him into this mess in the first place, Tony sped out of the gates and onto the road, fingers tapping against the wheel as he drove. It was a bit earlier than it had been the first time, but Tony figured he could just spend some time going back and forth down the highway if he had to.

He kept his eyes peeled as he drove, this time making sure to keep just slighty over the speed limit as he went. No need to piss Steve off further, after all. And this time, he wouldn’t be able to soften him up by fixing his bike. That piece of machinery probably wouldn’t need fixing for the next ten years now that Tony had messed around with it.

What could he say? He never did things by halves.

Turning the corner, he spun onto the road that followed the edge of the cliffs and couldn’t help but grin to himself as he felt the power in the engine. He fucking loved cars- he’d always wanted to work in a garage when he’d been a kid. There was just something intrinsically thrilling about them.

He wanted Steve in this car. Now that would be a thing of true beauty.

The powerful headlights lit the way for him, and he checked out his reflection in the rear-view mirror as he cut through the terrain. He’d gotten back from a late-night meeting a few hours earlier, so he was still in a semi-decent state. Small coffee stain on his chest, but that would probably go unnoticed, right? Unless Steve was observant, which he probably was, because, y’know, cop- should he go back and change? Was Steve going to think he was a clumsy unhygienic idiot if he didn’t? God, the shirt wasn’t even nice anyway, who the hell even wore Armani these days-

He spotted a yellow and blue motorcycle come into view under his headlights, and quickly slowed down before Steve caught him. Honest to God, he hadn’t even been that far above the limit that time- just been a bit tied up in his own thoughts.

With a sly grin, he pressed down on the horn and then watched Steve jump wildly up ahead, head turning to face the sound of the noise. He was lit up by the lights for a moment before Tony braked rapidly and then ground to a halt directly in front of Steve.

The look on the other man’s face was priceless.

“Hey, Officer,” Tony cocked his head and shot Steve a once-over. “Fancy seeing you again.”

“Tony,” Steve said his name dumbly, before blinking a few times and then huffing in surprise. “What are you- why-“

“I was bored,” Tony shrugged absently, pulling off the road and then cutting the engine. “Figured no one else would be awake at such a ridiculous time other than my favourite police officer.”

“I- I gave you a speeding ticket and made you fix my bike at 6 in the morning.”

Tony just rolled his eyes, slipping out of the car and then brushing against Steve’s shoulder as he hopped onto the hood of his car. Steve’s hand half went out as if to stop him before he caught himself and just curled it into a fist. Tony grinned. “Worried about the paintwork?”

“That paintwork probably costs more than my whole apartment, so yes, you could say I am,” Steve told him, leaning back on his bike in a way that made Tony’s mouth go dry. Oblivious to that fact, Steve simply grinned, looking over to Tony in amusement. “What are you really doing here, Tony? Trying to land yourself another ticket?”

Tony lay back on the hood, hands pillowing behind his head as he gazed up at the stars. “I wanted to see you again,” he admitted bluntly, “you interest me.”

“Is that so?” Steve asked him, voice sounding as if he was simply humouring Tony. “Because yeah, I am definitely one of the most interesting things you could be engaging with in Malibu.”

Tony looked up at him. “Pretty much, yeah,” he shrugged, flopping back down. “You make me laugh. And you didn’t take my bullshit. Kinda dig that, not gonna lie.”

He watched Steve shake his head and smile, looking away. When he rested his hands behind him and on the bike, Tony watched his muscles tense with a riveting sort of fascination. God, Tony wasn’t even sure what he was doing- it was almost impossible that someone like Steve wasn’t already taken. The notion of Tony even having a shot was just ridiculous.

Ah, well. Tony was going to try anyway.

“What’s your favourite colour?” He asked when the silence got a little too long, and Steve turned to him with a small frown, thrown by the randomness of the question.

“Orange,” he said slowly.

“Why?”

Steve turned his head, and looked toward the horizon, where the first few rays of light were just beginning to wake the world around them. “I love the sunlight,” he said simply. “It’s the most beautiful thing in the world that is available to the masses, for free, every day.”

Tony couldn’t say he’d ever thought about it like that. Sun was just that star thing that told him it was time to get some fucking sleep. But he liked how Steve put it. “What about your favourite number?”

Steve turned to him, half amused, half confused. “Why are we playing twenty questions?”

Tony sat up, rubbing absently at the coffee stain on his chest. When he looked up, Steve was staring at him. “I want to get to know you,” Tony told him simply.

A small crease popped up on Steve’s face, before smoothing out into a bashful smile. “Eight,” he said, “my favourite number is eight.”

“Favourite food?”

“Street Vendor corndogs.”

“God, I knew you were a New Yorker!” Tony pointed a finger accusingly and Steve laughed, “absolutely no one except New Yorkers would ever say that, ever.”

Steve’s laugh was lovely. Tony wanted to record the thing and then just listen to it, or bottle it and then keep it on his desk or something equally ridiculous. Over the course of their conversation, he got to hear that laugh a handful more times, and each time it just seemed to get better and better. As time went on, Tony noticed that the way Steve moved was entrancing as well- he was huge, but fluid. Almost graceful. And his hands, God, Tony couldn’t stop looking at them, he was pretty sure he was developing an obsession. As Steve moved them up to run through his hair, Tony caught a fleck of something purple crawling around his thumb. There was some green too, just under his cuff.

“You paint,” Tony blurted in surprise, and then watched as Steve paused, looking at Tony in surprise. In response, Tony gestured to his wrist. “You’ve… there’s paint on your hands.”

Steve looked down, and then rubbed at the marks. “Oh,” he said slowly, “yeah. Yeah, when I can afford to.”

Tony watched him; the way his face clouded over for just a moment, before he hid it away again and smiled. Tony guessed that Steve rarely got around to affording it. There was a reason he took this boring shift, after all.

“You should meet Pepper,” he said firmly, “she’s an art freak too. She’d love to have someone to gossip with it about. Gotta admit, it goes right over my head, but I’m sure I’d love whatever you drew anyway.”

Steve smiled and looked down, adorably bashful. God, it was slightly concerning how fast Tony was swooning over that. “I’d like that,” he murmured, “you- y’know, seeing it. If you want.”

Tony smiled, his heart ratcheting up a few beats. That was definitely an opening. That right there was definitely an opening, and Tony needed to take that, right now-

 At that moment, a car rounded the corner revving loudly, and way over the speed limit.

 Of fucking course.

 Steve jerked his head up, and then a second later he was stumbling onto his bike, ramming the helmet onto his head. “Sorry, gotta go!” He yelled, before kicking off the brake and turning onto the road after him, lights flashing.

Tony watched him, bemused as he rode off after the poor speeder. Well- that had been a very abrupt ending to what had almost been a date. He huffed in annoyance and kicked a rock that was too near to his foot. It didn’t really help vent his frustrations much.

With a small sigh, Tony checked his watch. 6am. He’d been talking to Steve for two hours, again. And he still hadn’t ballsed up and just asked the guy on a goddamn date.

 “Next time,” he hissed to himself, sliding back into his car and pouting at his reflection in the mirror. “Next time, Stark, you hear?”

    *

    Steve hadn’t shown up the next day when Tony drove down.

Obviously, it hadn’t been guaranteed that he would. But Tony had been sort of expecting to be able to ask him, and so he’d stayed up all night preparing, and then when no Steve had appeared, he could admit he’d been a little disappointed.

But no matter, Tony thought as he drove home at seven that morning, rubbing his eyes tiredly. There was always tomorrow.

So he went home. Didn’t get more than an hour’s sleep, mind you- too busy working on projects and thinking about how best to ask Steve for coffee in a way that didn’t sound ridiculous. It was surprisingly difficult. He just… he really didn’t want to mess this up before anything could even begin. He really liked Steve. Like… really liked him. It was weird. Tony didn’t usually feel this strongly toward people he had only met a handful of times. But there was just something about the guy- like Tony had said earlier, he didn’t take any of Tony’s bullshit. He was genuine. Kind. Funny, but in a way that you would easily miss if you didn’t look hard enough.

It had been less than a goddamn week, and Tony was smitten.

Fuck.

He sighed, knocking his head against the desk and shutting his eyes. He could feel a headache forming behind his eyes from the lack of sleep, and he could barely focus on any of the work in front of him. Pepper would probably kill him when she next saw him. That was, if he didn’t die of blue balls first.

“May I point out that it has been 68 hours since your last proper rest, and in that period of time you have yet to consume a product that is not coffee or Twinkies, Sir,” his AI spoke up above him, his voice calmly exasperated. Like he always did, Tony felt himself taken back to his childhood; to the real Jarvis, who’d taken exactly the same tone with him when he’d been pulling shit like this back then. It brought a wave of soothing fondness over him and he smiled against the tabletop, pushing himself back up.

“Coffee and Twinkies have all the nutrients my body requires, J.”

“I’m afraid to tell you that you are absolutely incorrect.”

“You don’t know my body, JARV- I am a temple of health, of knowledge-“

“With your best interests at heart, Sir, I must say your body is more akin to a wasting pile of garbage than a temple of health right now.”

Tony stopped, and then shot off a dirty look to the security camera. “You are the worst, most unsupportive Robot ever.”

“Merely trying to keep you alive, sir,” JARVIS replied primly, and Tony just huffed, rolling his eyes. He was being bullied by his own AI- this was really what his life had come to. Being called a pile of human garbage by your own supercomputer. This really was a new low.

He leaned back and stretched like a cat, feeling the vertebrae pop in his spine. He’d been hunched over the desk for far too long, he needed to get out. Go for another spin or something- maybe just drive by the road Steve worked on, just to check. Plus he’d tweaked the engine a tad whilst he’d been sulking, and so he might have even shaved off a little bit of the pretty much non-existent lag. Had to test that out, right?

“Okay, I’m going out,” Tony declared to the empty room, getting to his feet clumsily and grabbing his keys from the desk, “don’t wait up, JARV.”

“Sir, are you really sure that it is a good idea for you to be in control of the wheel right now?” JARVIS asked him in exasperation. “You run the risk of falling asleep on the road-“

“I have never in my life fallen asleep behind the wheel,” Tony held up a finger pointedly, “except from one time, and it was barely even a car. It was a dodgem, and I was slightly intoxicated at a fair-“

“-Heavily inebriated at a children’s party, you mean?”

Tony glared. “You are the worst. I told you not to mention that day. And it wasn’t a children’s…” He shook his head and turned on his heel. “You know what, never mind. I do not have time for this. I need to leave and find the official love of my life, Officer Steve Rogers.” He lifted his chin haughtily and stalked out of the workshop, keys clutched in his hand. If JARVIS could have rolled his eyes, Tony knew he would’ve. It was the reason he hadn’t built a body for the asshole- he wasn’t sure he could bear that level of sarcasm thrown his way on a daily basis.

Jumping up the steps two at a time, he checked out his appearance in the reflective chrome surface and pulled a face. He could probably do with brushing his hair. And putting on socks.

Ah, well. He was sure Steve wouldn’t mind, right?

He jumped into the car without a second thought, rubbing his eyes and then slapping his cheeks a few time. He had to be on top form if he wanted to woo Steve. Steve deserved a quality wooing.

Fuck, he was tired.

He shook his head and tried not to think about how it probably wasn’t a good idea to try seducing a cop whilst severely sleep deprived. He was Tony Stark- he could totally seduce a cop whilst sleep deprived. It would be fine. And Steve liked him- Tony was pretty much sure of it. It’d be a piece of cake.

Without a second thought, he put the keys in ignition and then revved the engine, pulling out of his drive and into the night.

    *

    He’d been driving for ten minutes, and he could already feel his eyelids start to droop.

 Whoops.

 Sighing heavily, he turned on the overhead lights and put the music on blast in an attempt to attack his senses enough to keep him conscious. But when that failed to help, he admitted defeat and pulled over with a loud groan.

Great. Now he was going to miss Steve, again.

He was still a mile or so away from where Steve was usually stationed. Tony would miss him; too busy napping on the side of the damn road. Maybe JARVIS had been right thirty hours ago, when he’d suggested Tony got some rest. Sure was coming to bite him in the ass now.

Well. He was here now- he might as well get in a small amount of rest before the sun rose.

Leaning forward, he braced his forearms over the wheel and then sunk his head into the crook of them, letting his heavy eyelids droop and shut completely. The overly loud rock music was nothing more than background noise in his ears, and he could already feel the first pull of sleep begin to wrap itself around his mind-

 “Sir, are you oka- wait, Tony?”

 Jerking upright rapidly at the sound of that familiar deep voice, he blinked in surprise and turned his head to the window. Above him, Officer Steve Rogers was leaning over the car in concern and surprise, staring at Tony as if he’d just grown a second head. “What the hell are you doing at the side of the road playing Bohemian Rhapsody loud enough to wake the dead?” He asked incredulously.

Tony zoned back in to the sound of echoing voices all screaming ‘Galileo!’ obnoxiously loudly. He blinked again. “Oh.”

“Tony?” Steve sounded concerned now. “Are you okay?”

“Mm,” Tony nodded his head and rubbed his eyes, hand fumbling for the volume and turning down the classic but also slightly grating music. “Sorry. I was just… catching some sleep. Tired.”

Steve shook his head. “Why were you out at this time driving if you’re so…” he broke off and then widened his eyes, cocking his head. “Were you coming out to see me?” He asked.

Tony sighed, leaning back and smiling. “I was going to woo you with my seductive charm,” he said, the words jumbling into one another in their haste. “You know how it is. I’m Tony Stark- I don’t need sleep. But you didn’t show up yesterday. I didn’t go to sleep, I was too busy plotting. And then… it’s been 70 hours? Ish? I’m kinda tired.”

Steve paused, trying to process the stilted and pretty much nonsensical words that fell from Tony’s mouth. Then the tiniest, most tentative smile began to crawl over his face. It was lovely. “You were trying to woo me?” He asked slowly.

Tony just nodded. He was too tired to think of any other bullshit. “With my seductive charm,” he clarified.

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment- but then he laughed. A surprised little snort that sounded absolutely wonderful. “You’re mad,” he said with a shake of his head. “You’re absolutely… so what? You haven’t slept for three days because you kept trying to catch me?”

“Pretty much?”

“Oh God.” Steve held his head in his hands and chuckled, head still shaking back and forth. Tony was unsure of the signals he was receiving here- was Steve happy or despairing?”

“I’d say a little bit of both,” Steve told him, and oh- Tony must have been talking out loud. “Tony Stark, you are… absolutely ridiculous. Do you know how stupid that was? Driving whilst sleep deprived is completely idiotic. You could easily have fallen asleep at the wheel, and no amount of Freddie Mercury would’ve helped that.” He sighed, and then stepped back, hand going for the handle of Tony’s door. “I’m going to have to ask you to exist the vehicle, sir,”

Uh oh. That never boded well. Tony looked up at him in concern, trying to discern whether or not Steve was frowning or smiling. “Uhhhh- why?” He asked curiously.

Steve folded his arms, pulling open the door and then gesturing Tony out of it. “Just get out of the damn car, Tony,” he said through a fond sigh. His eyes were twinkling under the half-light of dawn again, and Tony thought about how beautiful he looked. God, Steve could do so much better than some shitty nightshift on a road no one even gave a fuck about. He should be a model. Or- or an artist. Tony hadn’t seen any of his stuff, but he bet that he was good. He had the hands for it. And the temperament. Yeah- he’d make a call to Pepper, have her introduced to Steve, and then he’d see what they could-

“Tony?” Steve asked, waving a hand in front of Tony’s face, and he jerked a little in surprise, coming back to the present.

“Right,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Out the car. Got it.”

With a small stumble, he slipped off the black leather seats and then stood upright, straightening out his collar self-consciously as he did so. Steve looked at him as if he were holding back a smile, and then he took Tony by the arm with gentle fingers. His touch was warm, skin soft. “Come on,” he said slowly, beginning to pull Tony around the hood of the car.

Tony frowned, looking up at Steve in confusion. “Where are we going?” He asked, searching around them for a sign. Steve just shook his head and turned his head again, trying to hide the smile that Tony knew was on his face.

Well. At least he was making the guy laugh, he supposed.

Steve walked them around to the other side of the car, and then opened the door of the shotgun seat, one hand still around Tony’s bicep. He made a gesture, and then soft hands moved from his arm to his head, pushing down gently. “In you go,” he said in amusement, and Tony obeyed, ducking under the roof of the car and then plopping clumsily into the passenger seat. Steve shut the door with a soft click and then straightened up, walking back around the hood until he got to the driver’s seat. Without hesitation, he slipped in and put his hands on the wheel before turning to Tony. “I’m taking you home,” he said with a smile. “Any arguments will be considered an obstruction of Justice and I will arrest you.”

Tony blinked at him as Steve stared, completely serious except for the twinkle in his lovely blue eyes. Eventually, Tony just grinned, leaning forward against the dash and winking. “Only if you cuff me first.”

At that, a wonderful pink blush crawled up the side of Steve’s face, and his hands spasmed against the steering wheel. “Careful what you wish for, Stark,” he muttered, before pressing a foot down on the accelerate and then pulling out onto the road. His eyes widened in surprise, and he whistled under his breath. “Oh, wow,” he looked at the dashboard, awed, “this thing has a hell’uva kick.”

Tony smiled, turning his body so that he was facing Steve on the seat. “That’s what it is,” he clicked his fingers clumsily. “Brooklyn. I fucking knew it was Brooklyn.”

When Steve turned to him, Tony waved a hand at Steve’s face. “Your accent,” he mumbled in response, “it’s a Brooklyn accent. I’ve been trying to discern it ever since I met you.”

Steve laughed again, and Tony felt the car speed up a little more on the road. He glanced at the dash- any faster, and it was going to be Steve who was breaking the limit, which sure would be fucking ironic. “Why didn’t you just ask?”

“Well, that’d be no fun, would it?”

Steve shook his head again, and when he glanced over to Tony, his gaze was remarkably soft. He opened his mouth a fraction, words on the tip of his tongue- but nothing was said. Steve closed his mouth again, simply sighing. “You can nap in the car if you want,” he said, “in fact, I recommend it.”

Tony didn’t want to. He wanted to look at Officer Steve Rogers for as long as physically possible. “’M’Good,” he said, hitching his legs up and then resting them on the dash- or at least, until Steve leaned over and slapped them off. Tony glared at him as the man just looked out onto the road and hid another smile. “You do realise this is my car, right?”

“Your very expensive car. Anyway, I’m driver for the night. Shotguns have no authority over car control.”

“That’s complete bullshit.”

“Check the highway code, I learned that at Police Academy.”

Tony spluttered. “I’m pretty sure they don’t teach that at Police Academy, Steve.”

“Out of the two of us, which one has been to Police Academy?” Steve challenged with a raised eyebrow, before nodding resolutely when Tony said nothing. “See. Your silence means I’m right.”

Tony just rolled his eyes and flicked Steve behind the ear. His heart felt warm and full. It was an unusual feeling- then again, Steve was an unusual person. An anomalous. Tony didn’t know why he had the effect he did on Tony, but whatever the reason, Tony was falling for it. Hard. Steve was… great.

Despite his best efforts, he must have drifted off sometime during the ride, because the next time he opened his eyes, Steve was in the process of getting out of the car and walking over to Tony’s side. Once more, dawn was just beginning to throw some light on the world, and the milky light made Steve’s face glow like an angel’s. Tony could look at him all day. He watched all the way as Steve moved over to him, and when he opened Tony’s door, he smiled.

“Home sweet home,” Steve said. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

Tony unbuckled once more and stumbled out of the car with all the grace of what he could only really describe as a demented seal. Steve didn’t seem to mind though- he was still smiling. Tony would take that as a win. And of course; when Steve wrapped his hand tentatively around Tony’s waist and pulled him a little closer in order to ‘help him get inside’, Tony decided that yes, his wooing had definitely worked.

Leaning in further to Steve’s warm side, Tony felt his eyes begin to droop once more. He really was exhausted. And Steve was comfy. Like a big, muscly pillow. Tony would definitely like to fall asleep on Steve at some point. Hopefully soon.

He heard JARVIS greeting them quietly as they walked in, and quickly explained the basics of him to Steve before he could freak out about it. Steve seemed thoroughly impressed by it, and his hand squeezed against Tony’s side. Tony got the feeling that Steve was going to be very good for his ego.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been grateful for getting a speeding ticket before,” Tony mumbled against his shoulder, whilst trying to force his eyes to remain open.

He heard Steve’s laughter vibrating through his throat. “I don’t think I’ve ever been grateful for giving out a speeding ticket before,” he responded softly. “Now- I am just wandering aimlessly through your building right now, so you mind telling me where your room is?

Tony waved a vague hand, allowing JARVIS to take over and lead Steve toward his room on the other side of the mansion. As they walked through, Tony watched Steve’s fascinated gaze roam through every art piece that Pepper had made him put up on the walls. To him, they just looked like mismatched splotches of paint, but apparently to Steve they meant something else entirely, because the man seemed enthralled by them.

“You can have ‘em, if y’want,” Tony mumbled into his skin, looking up. “Prob’ly appreciate ‘em more than me.”

Steve spluttered, shaking his head. “Tony, these are way too expensive. They’re beautiful. They’re… true art. They might belong in your mansion, but they sure as hell don’t belong in my apartment.

Tony scoffed. “You’re beautiful art, and you’re living in your apartment. They’d fit right in.”

Steve froze for a moment, and then he guffawed loudly. He turned down to look at Tony with a huge smile and pink-coloured cheeks, and Tony wanted to kiss them so bad. “Wow. That was smooth, Stark.”

“See- totally got the wooing thing down. You just… throw me off sometimes.” Tony pouted, pushing his hair away from his eyes. “But I am totally cool. Really. Like, I’m talking a completely suave, professional dude. I can charm the pants of a rattlesnake, that’s me-“

“You just stayed awake for three days in order to try and ask me on a date,” Steve told him wryly. “I found you drooling over your steering wheel and playing Queen at 4 in the morning.”

Tony didn’t really have anything to say to that, so he settled for simply shoving Steve into the wall. Which, of course, failed- Steve was built like a brick. He actually ended up falling back himself, stumbling over his own feet at the momentum gained from trying to push Steve away. It was okay though, because before he could land on his ass, a quick pair of hands grabbed his waist and held him in place. Tony’s arms wrapped instinctively around Steve’s neck, and then suddenly they were almost nose to nose, Steve’s beautiful blue eyes staring intently at Tony’s own for a moment, before dropping helplessly down to his mouth.

Tony licked his lips, and then before he could even process it, Steve had spun them back upright and had Tony pinned against the wall, one hand braced above Tony’s head, and the other pressing down on his chest firmly. He was still looking at Tony’s mouth.

“Please can I kiss you?” Steve asked quietly, because of course Steve was the type of person to ask that sort of question in a situation like this. It wasn’t exactly like Tony could have been any more obvious, save for painting ‘I am nuts for Steve Rogers’ on his forehead- but apparently that wasn’t good enough for Mr. Morality over there.

“Go for it, Officer,” Tony said with a grin, and then before he could even take another breath, Steve’s mouth was on his, hot and heavy and absolutely delicious. Tony felt a big hand wrap around his neck, and his own fingers curled across Steve’s chest, felt all that glorious muscle under his digits, wow-

Steve made a low noise in the back of his throat and pressed Tony further into the wall. Tony breathed in sharply, tracing the seam of Steve’s lips with his tongue and then barely holding back a whine as Steve suddenly bent down and hefted him up into his arms, hands curled around Tony’s ass.

Oh wow.

It was only when Steve pushed Tony against the door and then fumbled it open that Tony realised they’d reached his room, and immediately his excitement rocketed. So, Steve counted this as third date, huh? Brilliant. Tony was absolutely, utterly down for that.

Steve walked them forward a few more steps, his mouth working against Tony’s own with boundless enthusiasm, and once he’d reached the centre of the room, he threw Tony on the bed as if he didn’t weigh a thing- and okay, yeah, this time Tony groaned. So fucking sue him, Steve was strong as shit-

He was rather surprised, of course, when instead of covering Tony’s body with his own, he yanked at the blanket at the bottom of Tony’s bed, and then placed that over Tony instead.

 He stared at it for a moment, and then at Steve- breathing slightly heavily and with dark eyes, but a shit-eating grin on his face- and then it clicked.

 “Oh you teasing bastard,” Tony hissed, starting to sit up- but Steve pushed him back down again, his hand firm against Tony’s shoulder. “I cannot believe- no, this is not allowed-“

“You need to sleep, Tony,” Steve told him through a smile, leaning closer as he whispered in Tony’s ear, “now get some, or I swear I will cuff you to the bed. And not even in the sexy way.”

Tony paused, before cocking an eyebrow and tucking his head against Steve’s cheek. “Darling, there is no way I will not find that at least a little bit sexy, come on.”

Steve just rolled his eyes. His hand was still running along Tony’s shoulder, and it was pretty soothing- and now that he was lying horizontally in his bed, he could admit that his eyes were beginning to get heavy again.

Dammit.

“I hate you,” Tony muttered, already feeling the pull of sleep begin just under his eyelids. “Hate you so much.”

Steve chuckled, hand moving to stroke though Tony’s hair, which was the worst decision, really, fuck, that just felt even better- “No you don’t,” he whispered, leaning over and then pressing a soft kiss to Tony’s forehead. “Get some sleep, Tony. Then we’ll talk, okay?”

Tony grumbled incoherently, pushing his head into Steve’s touch. His eyes shut of their own accord, and he savoured the feeling of hands in his hair whilst it lasted, because at this rate he knew he was going to be out any second- God, Steve was good, and he’d only known Tony for a handful of days, what the fuck-

 “Goodnight, Tony,” Steve said softly, and that was the last thing that Tony got to hear before he clocked out entirely, drifting off into a well-needed sleep.

    *

    He woke up slowly, to sunlight streaming through the windows behind him.

His face was smushed into the pillow uncomfortably, and his hair covered his eyes. With a few blinks, he nudged it out of the way and then opened his eyes painfully, squinting against the brightness of the room.

He felt… strangely well-rested. Huh.

Sitting up slowly, he yawned and then palmed a hand over his face. It was a beautiful day outside, and he could see the bright blue waves crash into the beach down below him when he peered out of the window.

When he checked the clock on the bedside table, however, he had to do a double-take.

13:09. What in the fuck?

“JARVIS?” Tony asked incredulously, “have I just slept through the entire morning?”

“It appears so, sir,” His AI replied wryly, and Tony choked, because no way, that never happened. He was an early riser and late sleeper- he must have been absolutely exhausted for him to sleep for that long.

A second later, however, everything from last night came rushing back, and he gasped audibly into the empty room.

Steve. Steve had taken him home after he’d found him asleep by the side of the road. Steve had kissed him, Shit, Tony could remember how good that had felt. And then he’d been thrown on the bed and somehow bamboozled into falling asleep, though God knows how, not when Steve had been pressing up against him like that.

“Is he still here?” Tony got out of bed hurriedly, looking around the room as if expecting Steve to pop out from behind the curtains or something.

“I’m afraid he left a few minutes after you fell asleep, Sir,” JARVIS responded, and Tony stopped, sagging in the middle of the room. Oh. Right. “He did, however, leave something for you on the dressing table, if you would like to see it.”

Tony paused, and then turned to the piece of furniture on his left. Walking over to it, he looked around for something out of place, and found it pretty sharpish. He noticed, with a huff of surprised laughter, that it was the speeding ticket Steve had given him the first time they’d met. Tony had been keeping it on the dash of his car ever since, and Steve must have spotted it whilst he’d been driving Tony home.

Picking it up with two delicate fingers, he held it up to the light and then saw that there was writing on the back of it. He turned it around, and then felt his heart speed up at the sight of what could only be Steve’s phone number, sprawled out in pencil. Underneath it was a short note:

‘Sorry for leaving you hanging last night. Call me when you feel a little bit more alive- hell, I’ll probably go over the limit in order to get to you faster.

65 is a shit speed anyway. Especially with a car like that’

 Tony burst out laughing. “JARVIS?” he asked into the room.

“Yes, sir?”

“Remind me to take Steve to a racetrack for our first date.”

AO3 // Donate to my ko-fi!