#i always put them on the same team so i like to imagine how they'd interact

[fancyfeathers]

Comment from @veil123 on this post

Now that I think about it, what would happen when they find them? I mean, by law, they're going to find them. I doubt they'd stay put, seeing that their children aren't there. Those children on the run must be in another country, stuck acting like heroes in those countries. I say that's how they'll be discovered and the chase begins.

I think Diana's son would be like Batman when Batman's daughter isn't around. Superman's daughter would be like the strength of the group. Zatara's son would be the one who gets them out of trouble. Hal's twins must be one fighting and the other controlling everything from a small room. Flash's daughter must be the speedster who takes them all to the location and analyzes the situation. And Arthur's son must be the one who helps with fires and fighting.

That's how I imagine them as a group.

Yandere!Justice League with their darling!children AU

For reference this series is set in the universe of the Young Justice show

A/N- This comment was so good I had to respond to it in a post

Since the Justice League in Young Justice is more of an international organization, they don’t stay in a spot for too long, at least the powerless ones. But the incident that goes viral that alerts the Justice League is when Superman’s daughter was found stoping a derailed train and then leaving the scene after helping civilians with who appeared to be Diana’s son, the internet calling her the Supergirl since her powers were the same as Superman. After that the Justice League realizes what happens and it is not only them who are looking for their kids but also the Young Justice team. Then not to mention if The Light found out about this little gang of runaway superheroes, just imagine what would happen to them.

No but this is pretty accurate, like Diana’s son and Bruce’s daughter are definitely the leaders of the group (I think the hero name for Diana’s son would be named after one of the Greek heroes or maybe called Huntian which is old English for hunter because I think while he is adopted and has never been to Themyscira, I think he definitely a follower of the Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt). So him and Songbird (Bruce’s daughter) are the ones mainly calling the shots, Diana’s son because he is a natural born leader, and Bruce’s daughter because she due to her time in Gotham she made a lot of wealthy friends who sponsor them and act as connections for their team. Also it helps that Diana’s son was a law student and knows loopholes in the system if need be and the need will come for that knowledge. They two of them have been on their own the longest, Diana’s son was off at college when Bruce’s daughter recruited him and they are the ones who know the most about how the real world functions (outside of Zatara’s son, but more about him later), everyone else was somewhat sheltered growing up.

Superman’s daughter (and obviously her hero name is gonna be Supergirl, the public probably named her that after she got spotted for the first time, stopping a derailed train, doesn’t matter if she doesn’t want to be named after her dad because of her powers, that’s her name now), she definitely like the muscle of the team, even with her powers just coming through after she left home. It’s rough for her, learning how to control her kryptonian powers all on her own, well almost on her own, Bruce’s daughter knows enough about kryptonians that she is able to help enough that she isn’t terrified of something going wrong every second. Like the idea of idea of her pulling up when the Young Justice team is handling something and like she saved them from being crushed by rubble and if it’s during season one, Connor is just confused of who she is, especially if she is wearing the symbol of the house of El, after season one when Connor is closer to Clark he finally figures out who she is and whenever they encounter her on the field he always tries to talk to her before she flies away, it never works though.

Then Giovanni Zatara’s son, Zatanna’s brother, is definitely the mom of the team (I think Hex, like inspired by the Hex girls cause I imagining him with an edger style, or Crimson Phantom or Scarlet Angel, if we are going classier and it’s a nice reference to two of his inspirations, the Scarlet Witch and the Phantom of the Opera). He definitely had a stable childhood growing up, but when his father put on the helm of fate to save Zatanna and he found out the truth about his father’s relationship with his mother, he left home, he was a legal adult, no one was stopping him yet. He knows teleportation spells along with spells he definitely should not know, but he taught himself dangerous spells just in case something went wrong on a mission and they need to play him as the ace up their sleeve. I love the idea of him having potentially destructive magic that he can’t always control when he is emotional and that’s why the Justice League has red flagged him, he is potential danger to the world and himself. Also you know that one scene when Doctor Fate gets protective over Zatanna when they are talking about her joining the team, take that to eleven with Zatanna’s brother, not only is Doctor Fate’s host body the father of the boy, he is also a potential source of chaos if he doesn’t learn how to control his powers or not use them at all.

I was literally just thinking about Hal’s twins, like I love the idea of one of them potentially becoming a Blue Lantern or a Star Sapphire, his daughter most likely. Like I love imagining her like saving like an astronaut when something went wrong with their rocket and she is making sure they’re okay, when the other two Justice League members who could have helped, Hal Jordan and John Stewart arrive on the scene and she turns around to leave and just sees them standing there and she is either screwed or she has to make really good break for it. She also definitely messes with her brother like…

“Did you get a lantern ring? No, that’s what I thought.”

“…I’m going to kill you one day.”

“With what powers?”

Hal’s son on the other hand would definitely be the type to take up a role like Barbara Gordon being Oracle, like him using a name like Codex or Firewall, absolute tech savvy. Like he is the one running the communications, so like say if one of them got caught, he would be the one to alert all the others and shut down the communications and any tracking devices the captured person may have on them so the Justice League can’t trace it back to any of the others, even if it’s own sister who got caught, he promised he’d do what’s necessary. Also just imagine like all these heroes in suits and meanwhile he’s just in like a hoodie and jeans. Also Hal’s son is definitely the one everyone comes to when they need a mechanic of any kind, he can fix a motorcycle in a cinch or repair a computer with a virus on it.

Flash’s daughter is literally the definition of a Gen Z (definitely see her using the name Blitz as her hero name), she is a little agent of chaos on their little of team. Like she gets the idea of adding rollerblades to her suit cause like what if she could go extra fast, at first it’s a joke but then she gets dared to actually do it and it takes weeks and lots of speed healed broken legs, but eventually she manages to add them and more importantly Superman’s daughter owes her twenty bucks. Then there is the fact that she is the biggest risk taker in the group, like by that I mean she will be getting civilians out of buildings until the last minute, and by the last minute I mean until someone from the Justice League arrives and then she is out of there. I also love the idea of when Bart Allen gets sent to the past, he gets all excited when he meets her because she is technically his aunt in the future and he tries to spend time with her only for her to push him away.

Then there is lastly Aquaman’s son, he is a little nervous about everything. All his life he was struggling living in Atlantis since he is mostly human after all, a human mother and a half Atlantean father. So when he goes to the surface, he has no idea what to do until Bruce’s daughter finds him and recruits him (when he joins the team he takes the name Pisces as his hero name). He is the baby of their group, literally and metaphorically, they all teach him how to blend in with the surface world, changing his Atlantean name to a more human one. Despite taking on a more human identity, he is still able to somewhat breathe underwater and use the abilities and powers he learned while living in Atlantis, the Hydrokinesis based powers that are similar to what Aqualad, Kaldur'ahm, uses in combat. Though he is more on damage control, using his powers to get civilians out of the way and even go on rescue missions into ocean waters to rescue people out on the water. He definitely has an interesting relationship with the Young Justice team, while they are supposed to turn in anyone who is on this team to the League, but Kaldur'ahm can’t hurt Aquaman’s son, he is still the Prince of Atlantis despite leaving him behind.

Then while I only mentions her in the extra notes of my original posts, Martian Manhunter’s adoptive daughter has telepathic abilities like him and was taken in by him and his darling when her birth parents didn’t want her anymore because her abilities could be dangerous. Despite her mental abilities being practically the same as Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian, her physical capabilities are not, I imagine that she is physically disabled (she was inspired by Charles Xavier). Her adoptive father is the protective kind, so she didn’t have much of a social life as a kid until she was visited by Bruce’s daughter and recruited into her team and it is almost funny for Martian Manhunter return home and find his daughter missing. She is similar to her inspiration of Professor X, as she is mentor of the team in a way, a strategist and a researcher for their missions, including mental interrogations. By far she would be the most difficult to find since she is stationary for the most part unless they need her active on the field. Now I don’t know is she would have a name for her hero identity like the rest of their group but maybe for fieldwork she would use the name of Mindweaver or Dreamcatcher.

[megalony]

I'm Taking You Home

This is an Evan Buckley imagine, requested by the lovely @senjoritanana I hope you like it and I'm surprised how quickly I managed to finish this for you. Feedback is always amazing.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie

911 Masterlist

Summary: While out on a call, someone tries to shoot at the 118 and the accident bursts (Y/n)'s eardrum. Evan makes sure to do all he can to look after her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm ready for bed." (Y/n) braced her hands on her hips and tilted her head back as she clicked her spine into place. Her knee jutted forward and she took deep breaths as she waited on the pavement for Evan to catch her up.

"It's only lunchtime,"

She tilted her head to the right and raised a brow at Eddie when he playfully bumped his shoulder into hers. He looked down at his watch before he looked back over at her. It had just gone twelve, they were on time for once to go back to the station and get lunch before another call dragged them back out.

"Excuse me, we've been on a two-day bender at the station. We haven't been to bed yet."

Eddie held his hands up in defeat when Evan walked over towards them and slung an arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders, reeling her into his side.

Evan, (Y/n) and Bobby had all been on shift for near enough forty-eight hours now and they'd had four hours sleep, if that. The station was short handed and with Hen, Chimney and Eddie all needing to have a break between shifts due to childcare, (Y/n) and Evan stepped up. They were alright with doing long shifts, especially when they were paired up together.

They didn't mind whereas it wasn't fair for Eddie or Hen or Chimney to do longer than a twenty four hour shift when they had families to go home to. Unless it was an emergency situation, of course.

(Y/n) leaned her head back onto Evan's shoulder and grinned up at him when he swiped her helmet from her head so he could see her properly.

She hated how much she loved it when Evan reeled her into his side like this. (Yn) hated just how much she loved to slot under his arm and how she fit perfectly into his side like two puzzle pieces slotting together. She hated the way he looked down at her and winked because it made butterflies swarm free in her stomach and fueled her with unnecessary adrenaline.

"Alright team, let's pack up."

They all made their way across the road and headed over to the truck to start packing up ready to leave.

(Y/n) refrained from sighing when she had to loosen up and slide out of Evan's hold. She let him keep her helmet that he moved to pack into the truck along with his helmet and jacket. A smile danced across her lips as she held her hand out and took the medic bag from Eddie so she could put it back in the compartment along with hers.

She was ready for home.

Once they were back at the station, (Y/n) and Evan would have three more hours to have dinner and maybe join in on one more call out before they could have the rest of the week at home.

Sometimes it felt better to keep working through the week because when she and Evan had the same time off together, (Y/n) didn't know how to act around her roommate. Not when the way she felt for him was moving away from platonic and into something more deadly. At least when they were on shift there was no risk of any feelings getting in the way, they were too busy for that.

(Y/n) brushed her hands over her knees, ridding them of dust and grime before she turned and moved towards the other side of the truck. She grabbed the hose and started to wind it up and clipped it back in place before she shut the compartment and did a quick check. Everything was packed away, they could get going now.

She could hear Hen shouting for her to get in and a smile pulled at her lips as she grabbed the handle and pulled herself up the steps to climb up.

Evan whispered a quiet 'come on' as he patted the vacant seat next to him that was waiting for her. But the radiant, cheesy grin on his features faded the moment an awful bang rung out through the air.

A scream burst past (Y/n)'s lips and her hands coiled up to her head as she dropped to her knees on instinct.

Gunshots.

Someone was shooting at them.

They weren't on a call out for an assailant with a gun. They had sorted out a gas leak in a cafe, they weren't here for any injuries or shootings and no one had been trying to hold a hostage situation nearby. They didn't even have the ambulance with them today because the call out wasn't that serious.

Evan jerked back in his seat, hunching his shoulders and moving his hands mid-air despite not knowing what he was trying to do. He could feel his heart ramming away at his ribcage and his pulse throbbed in his neck but he couldn't catch a proper breath. He could feel Chimney rushing to unclip his belt beside him and it made Evan realise he hadn't done up his own belt yet.

With that thought in mind, Evan jumped forward and slammed down onto his knees in the footwell of the truck. His arms reached out and grabbed (Y/n), reeling her back until she stumbled into him. He could see from the way she dropped down that she hadn't been hurt and when he swept his eyes across her, he couldn't see any blood or wounds and she wasn't screaming out in pain.

"Get down! Get on the floor!" Evan jerked his right arm out and pulled on Eddie's sleeve before he moved to do the same to Hen, trying to drag them both down.

Someone was shooting at them, they needed to cower down in the footwell below the windows so they weren't easy targets. Sitting in their seats made them easy to spot and aim at. (Y/n) had been stood up when the shots started, they might have been aiming for her.

Chimney and Hen went down on their knees and leaned forward with their heads hunkered down low and their hands braced on the seats in front of them.

Eddie snapped his belt off so fast it slammed into the window while he slid off his seat and crouched down. There wasn't enough room for all five of them in the footwell but they rammed together like sardines to try and stay low. Leaning to the left, Eddie braced one arm over his head for cover before he leaned towards the door and grabbed it. He swung it until it snapped shut, caging them all inside safely out the way and hunkered down.

"Bobby-"

"Everybody hold tight!"

Bobby turned the lights on but not the sirens and leaned forward until his head was level with the steering wheel for extra coverage and protection. He didn't think twice before slamming his foot down on the gas to get them moving. Whoever was shooting was aiming for them and they needed to move.

"This is Captain Nash, shots fired! Repeat, shots are being fired we need police assistance. Is anyone hurt?" He did his best to look over his shoulder into the back but when he couldn't see any of them, he looked back at the road and swerved onto a side road to get them out the way.

There was nothing they could do. They couldn't stay and try to see if anyone was injured or hurt or stop the gunman when they seemed to be the targets.

Everyone took a quick glance down at themselves before they looked over at one another. No one seemed to have been hit and one of the windows had smashed but the glass hadn't cut any of them. They had escaped that one safe enough, but it had been close.

For a few more seconds, Evan didn't dare lift his head. He stayed down on his knees with (Y/n) curled over his thighs and his arms bound tight around her middle. He had his lips pressed against the back of her head although he didn't know why or even when he had suddenly done that. And no one else tried to move either. He could feel Chimney slouching against him, Hen had her hand on his shoulder for comfort and to steady herself. And Eddie was squashed in the corner with both his hands braced on the chair in front of him.

When Bobby turned another sharp corner, it felt safe enough for them all to push up and straighten up. But no one attempted to sit on a chair. They all remained on the floor.

"Is anyone hurt? Do I have to make a trip down to the hospital?" Bobby needed an answer. The turning for the hospital was coming up and he could either take that turn, or carry on straight and head back to the station.

Evan slowly reeled up and shuffled around until he was sat down on his bum and not his knees. He leaned his back up against the seat behind him and pulled his knees up which shifted (Y/n) so she was pinned between his knees and his chest.

"(Y/n)? Look at me, are you okay?" He kept one arm around her waist and moved his other hand to cup her jaw so he could turn her head. He tilted her head up so she was facing him.

His baby blue eyes did three turns looking her up and down but he couldn't see any injuries on her. All he could see were her hands still covering her ears and tears drenching her face. And Evan could feel her panicked breaths pushing into his chest, she was breathing like there wasn't enough air in the room and she was trying to stockpile what little oxygen she could.

Shivers bolted up and down (Y/n)'s spine when Evan started to rub his thumb across her chin and up towards her lip. And when he pulled her bottom lip down and leaned closer, she realised she wasn't talking. She wasn't saying anything and that was panicking him.

She couldn't hear him properly when he repeated the same question again, but she forced herself to nod her head. She wasn't hurt. She wasn't shot or hit with anything and she hadn't gotten any glass imbedded in her skin.

But her head was splitting.

Her right ear felt like it had been blown off. It was throbbing and pulsing and her head was starting to pound and sway back and forth like she was being used as a drum. The shot must have been close.

"We're good, Cap."

(Y/n) kept both her hands deadlocked over her ears and leaned forward to smother her face into Evan's shirt. Her breath hitched in her throat when Evan moved his hand down to cup the back of her thigh and she dared not ask what he was doing. She went limp despite her sudden panic and let Evan lift her over so she could sit down between his parted thighs.

He moved his hand to cup the back of her head and his other arm curved around her waist. He rested his chin on top of her head and held his breath for as long as he could so he wasn't panting and gasping anymore.

His eyes flitted over to look at Eddie when he rested his hand on Evan's ankle and patted his leg with a soft expression.

"He nearly shot her."

Evan's voice was so quiet that everyone almost misheard what he'd said. All eyes fell onto him except for (Y/n). And they looked at his hardened expression before their heads turned to see what he was looking at. The window opposite the door was the one that had shattered.

Whoever shot at them had aimed for (Y/n). An inch lower, an inch to the left, if she moved a second slower, there would be a bullet in her head and nothing they could do to save her.

None of them wanted to move when the truck pulled up in the station.

All of them seemed to exchange looks before Eddie sighed and took the plunge. He used the seat behind him as leverage and pushed up to his feet so he could open the door and hop down. He cracked his neck into place and stretched his arms in front of him while he waited for everyone else to follow him out.

Hen patted Evan's shoulder as she climbed over him to get out, followed by Chimney. Hen folded her arms over her chest and rubbed her hands up and down her sleeves to try and calm herself down. Any one of them could have gotten a gunshot wound today.

"We're back," Evan mumbled the words into (Y/n)'s hair before he moved his hands to cup her wrists so he could pull her hands away from her ears.

He hated to see tears streaked down her face and the way she was still struggling to take in a proper breath. Before he could stop himself, Evan leaned forward and kissed her temple.

His hands moved to hold her hips and he tried to smile when (Y/n) gripped his shoulders to try and stand up. He could feel how badly she was shaking once she was stood up and he moved to stand behind her with his hands still on her hips to try and comfort her. They climbed down and moved to stand next to everyone else.

Bobby looked furious.

His hands were on his hips, his foot was tapping against the floor and he moved one hand to drag across his chin before he scratched his nails into the back of his head.

"The police will be down here soon to take statements, and I'll need you all to complete some paperwork for the Chief, but that can wait until tomorrow. Does anyone need to see a counsellor or have a session before you carry on with your shifts?"

The police would no doubt be here within the hour to take statements and talk them all through what happens next. And Bobby would need to fill out an incident report and have everyone make their statements for the paperwork. He could let that wait until tomorrow, until the shock had worn off and everyone felt better.

But they all knew that they had a right to see a councillor or therapist and if they wanted to, they could have an appointment to be cleared to come back to work. Bobby wouldn't want anyone to carry on working if they felt too shaky or unsettled and thought they should talk it through with someone first. Their health and wellbeing came first and they had almost taken a bullet today, it would be understandable if anyone wanted to go home.

Evan clasped his hands together behind his back and kept his eyes on his shoes. He didn't need to talk this through. He needed to sit down before he exploded.

Someone had almost killed his best friend. Someone had taken aim at (Y/n) and they could have seriously injured or killed her. Where would Evan be if the worst had happened? What would he do without her? How would he cope in a world without (Y/n)?

She was the only constant thing in his life. He saw her every morning without fail, she was the first person he saw when he got up and the last person he saw before he closed his eyes at night. Evan didn't want that to change, not for anything in the world and he didn't want any harm to come to her. She was his roommate, his best friend and she meant more to Evan than anyone else ever had.

He couldn't live without her.

"Are you all sure you're okay?"

A chorus of 'yes' and nodding heads filled the air and Bobby waved his hand at them. They all knew what to do. Go get changed, get themselves a drink and try to calm down while he sorted dinner before the station became flooded with police.

(Y/n) closed her eyes for a few seconds when everyone started to disappear and float around the station.

She didn't now what to do. She wanted to be sick. She wanted to collapse and pass out. Her head was spinning so violently she thought it was going to disconnect from her neck.

"I'm gonna hit the gym."

(Y/n) let her eyes drag over to Evan, wincing at how horrible his voice sounded in her right ear. It sounded like she was submerged underwater, trying to hear things above the surface. It was as if Evan was gurgling water in the back of his throat as he talked and the sounded made (Y/n) cringe. She could feel her head swimming and her ear was pounding and pulsing and throbbing all at once.

She knew what he meant by that. He meant he was going to go into the gym and break the equipment. He had ripped the last punching bag they had at the station after a bad fallout with his parents.

Eddie nodded in agreement and they both turned to start making their way towards the gym. But when Evan looked over his shoulder at (Y/n), it was as if they were having a silent conversation. (Y/n) could feel herself begging him not to leave her alone and his eyes told her he wasn't allowing her out of his sight for more than a few seconds.

That was enough for (Y/n) to follow along behind them. She didn't know what else to do with herself. She could follow the boys and watch them in the gym. It would be better than sitting in the bunker room or upstairs on her own, twiddling her thumbs and she knew if she was alone she was at risk of bursting into tears.

Her hand braced out on the truck and she dragged her fingertips along the red paint, using the truck as leverage to keep herself upright as she began to walk.

She felt dizzy.

When they got into the gym, (Y/n) heaved herself over to a bench and slumped down like all her bones had turned to jelly. She flopped forward and let her arms slump on her legs and hung her head down to see if it would relieve her headache and make her ear stop thudding and ringing like a church bell.

"Are you alright?" Evan's hand found her shoulder with a surprisingly strong grip and he gave her a squeeze to make her look up at him. She was surprised to see he had shed his shirt quickly to leave him in his grey vest and trousers.

"Just shaky,"

(Y/n) let her eyes dance over Evan's frame for a while as he began to abuse the punch bag in the corner. She couldn't hear whatever he and Eddie were talking about. Her right ear was starting to turn numb and the ringing was drowning out everything else. She could only hear through her left ear and it was a horrible feeling to feel as if she were broken and useless on one side.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed in the gym, it could have been a few minutes, it could have been half an hour. All she knew was that after a few minutes, she flopped to lay out on the bench.

Eddie and Evan kept glancing her way every now and then but she still had her eyes open and she tried to smile at them to show she wasn't suddenly going to faint or go unconscious.

"You three, come and get something to eat." Bobby's voice was quiet when he poked his head round the door and waved them over.

(Y/n) realised they must have been in there a while because Evan was drenched in sweat and Bobby had found enough time to make lunch.

Her lips curved into a small, tepid smile when Evan stood in front of her hand held his shaky, sweating palms out towards her. His chest was heaving, his hair was flopping about on his head and sweat trickled down his neck and through to his vest, but he didn't care.

She let her hands slide into his and Evan slowly pulled her up to her feet, but (Y/n)'s smile faded when her head started to swim. Her knees trembled and her head flopped forward. She felt dizzy and sick and feverish all at once. But she tried to push those feelings aside when the three of them headed out the gym and trudged towards the stairs.

None of them had much energy and they all walked at their slowest pace, feeling their motivation slipping away with each passing second. They didn't do this job to get shot at. They were firefighters, they were trying to do some good in the world and help people and look out for everyone. Why did they deserve to be shot at? What had they done to upset someone so much?

The three of them walked in a single file line when they got to the stairs and (Y/n) grabbed the rails with both hands, pushing her weight onto her arms to drag herself up.

But the dizziness was starting to get worse and she could feel her breakfast crawling back up her throat.

Halfway up the stairs was too much for (Y/n). Her head started to loll forwards and a wave of tremors rattled through her limbs while her head pounded. Her eardrum thudded, tears splashed down her face and her head started to split apart like a coconut.

"(Y/n)- hey, what's up, what're you doing?" Panic bubbled up through Evan when he watched (Y/n) suddenly lower herself down onto her knees like she was about to pray here on the stairs.

He moved to crouch down behind her, reaching out to grip her waist while he felt Eddie lean over his shoulder to see why they had all stopped.

When (Y/n) folded her arms on the step in front of her and tried to slump her head onto her arms, Evan gently reeled her back. He muttered a quiet 'come here' as he tilted (Y/n) back into his chest. He hated the way she started to tremble in his arms and the way she hid her face into her hands like she was trying to smother herself. It did nothing to stop him from hearing her begin to cry and it made his heart shatter.

But his brows furrowed and he gently pulled her hands away from her face so he could cup her chin. He tilted her head to the left so she was looking away from him and a growl built up in his chest when he noticed a small trickle of blood slithering down from her ear onto her jaw.

"Okay, up we go. I got you."

Evan held (Y/n)'s wrist and looped her arm around the back of his neck before he cupped his left arm around her waist and slid his right arm beneath her knees. He slowly stood up and waited until (Y/n) smothered her face in his chest before he began walking up the stairs again.

His jaw locked tightly and he tried his best to look ahead and ignore the worried looks he got from the rest of the team who were quietly sat around the dining table.

He moved over to the right and headed over to the sofa, crouching down so he could ease (Y/n) down onto the sofa before he sat down beside her.

(Y/n) curled her arms into her chest and slouched back into Evan when his arm draped around her shoulders. He pressed his lips into her hair and started to glide his other hand up and down her arm until Eddie came back over to them with one of their medical kits in hand.

When Eddie perched down in front of (Y/n), Evan slid his hand up from her shoulder to cup her jaw. (Y/n) opened her eyes wide and tried to control her breathing as she wondered what Evan was trying to do. But he gently used her chin to turn her head until her cheek was pressed into her chest so Eddie could see the blood trickling out of her right ear.

"Can I take a look?"

(Y/n) didn't say anything but the soft look in her eyes told Eddie he could go ahead.

He used a cotton swab to clean away the blood before he shone a light in her ear. His fingertips pressed behind her ear, down her neck and across her jaw to see when she would wince or flinch away from his touch. He then pressed a thermometer under her tongue and flashed the light across her eyes.

"I think the shot burst your eardrum… you were the closest to it. You need to get some antibiotics and go home, it's gonna take a while to heal."

Eddie winced when (Y/n) began to cry and he turned to look over his shoulder and wave Bobby across to them.

There was nothing a doctor could do for (Y/n) except make sure she didn't get it infected. It would heal up on its own within two months, hopefully. (Y/n) would need to rest, take antibiotics and make sure not to get her ear wet at all for a few weeks.

She turned her head further to the side and cried into Evan's chest, shaking harder when she felt his hand slide up from her jaw to tangle in her hair at the back of her head.

"It's okay… shh, it's alright. I'm taking you home."

***

A sigh bubbled past Evan's lips when he shut the front door behind him. He let his shoulders slump down and tilted his head back, closing his eyes when he heard that unmistakeable sound.

(Y/n) was throwing up. Again.

He tossed his keys on the side and headed through into the kitchen, dumping his bag down on the counter before he backtracked and headed over towards the bathroom.

He had never been more pleased that the bathroom in their apartment was downstairs. It meant while (Y/n) was laid up on the couch for the last few days, she didn't have to struggle getting up and down the stairs to rush to the bathroom when she felt sick. But he wished she wasn't throwing up so much. Evan wished she could start to feel better.

For the last four days, he had seen (Y/n) eat two meals a day and proceed to throw all of it back up again. He thought it was too good to be true that she had eaten tea last night and lunch today without being sick.

He tapped his knuckles on the door before he nudged it open and stood in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. He leaned his back up against the door and let his head flop to the right as he looked down at (Y/n).

She was knelt on the floor, hunched over the toilet with her forehead slumped down on her arms.

"I take it you don't feel any better?" He mumbled quietly and raised his brows when (Y/n) turned away from the toilet. She could barely keep her eyes open and a subtle tremble had set in all over her body.

(Y/n) turned on her knees and shuffled over until she could use the sink as leverage to pull herself up. But the moment she was stood up, her legs started to shake and her head rattled like someone was using her head as a bowling ball. Her knees quaked and pressed up against the sink and her hands gripped the edge as she let herself slide down just a little until her head was slumped forward into the bowl.

She tried to rinse her mouth with mouthwash but the sensation made her ear feel like it was popping and drowning in water. She spat it out and cringed, bowing her head even further to stop herself from crying. She had cried enough over the last four days but she couldn't seem to stop.

Her head was pounding unless she was asleep and as much as she tried, (Y/n) couldn't sleep the days away as well as the nights. She hated listening to music or the tv when one ear was working and the other was turned down and noises came through hazy and bubbling. She had to have the tv on volume seven because any louder made her cry.

The shot had unbalanced the fluids in her ears and that was making it hard for (Y/n) to keep her balance and stay upright. She felt like she was always swaying and sliding to one side when she stood upright and every time she tried to move around, she ended up being sick.

"Alright, come here."

Evan cupped his hands over her hips and stood behind her but when he turned her around to face him, he watched her lips fall into a frown and she wouldn't meet his gaze. Her forehead tipped down into his chest and her hands gripped his arms even though she didn't want to.

"You can't carry me everywhere, Evan." (Y/n) didn't want to rely on Evan like this. She didn't want him to have to help her up and down the stairs and make dinner for her when they usually shared the cooking. She didn't like relying on him like this, it wasn't fair.

"Yes I can. You're not well, that means I gotta look after you. So let me."

(Y/n) let herself go limp so Evan could move her easily. He cupped her wrists and lifted her arms to curl them around his neck. Then his hand moved down to hold her chin and he bent his knees to lower himself down so he could rest (Y/n)'s head on his shoulder.

His hands cupped the back of her exposed thighs and he lifted her up with ease, securing her legs around his torso so she was sitting on his hips. He kept one arm around her bum, she was light and easy enough to carry with one arm so he didn't know why she objected so much to him carrying her around. It wasn't like she was forcing him to help her; he wanted to. He was desperate to help her.

(Y/n) closed her eyes and nuzzled her face into Evan's neck, smiling when she felt Evan's lips against the top of her head. Something he had been doing a lot over the last few days.

He headed into the kitchen, grabbed the bag he had come back with and then turned around to go down into the living room.

When he reached the sofa, Evan dug his hand into (Y/n)'s thigh and leaned forward so he could ease her down. He found himself smiling when he watched her curl her knees up to her stomach and saw how she burrowed into the pillows she had collected down here to be more comfortable.

"What's in the bag?" (Y/n) let her head sink into one of the pillows and she bound her arms around her chest, turning to face Evan when he sat down next to her. But he didn't sink back into the seat like he normally would, he sat on the edge of the sofa with his knees bent out to the sides and his elbows on his thighs.

"I got Eddie to grab me a few bits from the station."

(Y/n) narrowed her eyes, about to smile at him until she watched what he started to get out the bag and place down on the coffee table.

"Evan no-"

Her lips pressed together firmly and she leaned back in her seat when he turned to face her. The way he tilted his head to the side and rose a brow made her shiver, but it was his jaw that locked and ground from side to side that made the adrenaline ignite in (Y/n)'s stomach. And when he moved his hand to point a finger at her, she almost gasped.

"Now you listen to me, you're dehydrated and you're still being sick. So you either suck it up and let me help you, or I will carry you to the car and take you down to the emergency room. So which is it sweetheart?"

The pet name rolled off his tongue before he could stop himself or even realise what he had said and it made (Y/n) turn to jelly despite the pain rolling through her head. She loosened her arms from her chest and flopped her arm onto his thigh as a sign of giving in to him.

"Good girl."

Evan picked up one of the two saline bags Eddie had packed for him. He knew (Y/n) would be sick again today, he just had a gut feeling that she wouldn't be able to keep anything down and she hadn't been drinking enough either. So he rang Eddie this morning and asked him to grab a few IV bags from inventory, some stronger pain meds and some supplement sachets.

He knew (Y/n) wouldn't want to go to hospital, it would take a few hours for them to get through the emergency room onto a ward to get any help in the first place. But if he could keep (Y/n) at home with him and help her himself, the Evan would do everything he could for her.

(Y/n) dared to shuffle a bit closer so she could tilt her head forward and press her nose into his arm which made him smile.

He ripped open an antiseptic wipe and dabbed it across the back of (Y/n)'s hand that was stretched out on his thigh. He could feel (Y/n) pressing her face further into his bicep while she closed her eyes. She didn't do well with needles.

"Here we go," He whispered quietly, daring to let his eyes dart over to her for a second before he moved his attention back to her hand.

He slid the needle into the first vein he found and moved to grab the IV cap that he clipped onto the end while (Y/n) groaned and pinched her nails into his thigh. Not that Evan minded at all. Once a bit of tape was stuck over it, he grabbed a roll of bandage and started to wind it around her hand. He knew exactly what she was like. She would scratch and pull and mess with the tube until the needle came out.

Once it was in place, Evan checked the wire was straight and running free before he flipped the cap to let the fluids flush wide open. He wanted the saline in her system as fast as possible because she was dehydrated and she needed a boost.

"Eddie found some painkillers, they should take away your headaches."

"I don't think I can keep them down."

"Ah, no this is the good stuff." Evan flashed the small bottle when (Y/n) turned her head so her cheek was pressed against his shoulder. He told Eddie not to bring tablets because (Y/n) would throw them up.

Evan grabbed a new needle, filled it with the right dosage and injected it into the spare cap on the IV tube. This would go straight into (Y/n)'s system so she wouldn't throw it up and it would help her feel better. He didn't want to see her crying in pain any longer, he just wanted to make her feel better.

"Thank you." (Y/n) left her bandaged hand on Evan's lap but she moved her right hand to curl around his arm she was leaning against. Her lips pressed to his shoulder and she smiled against his skin until she looked up and realised he looked perplexed.

"You don't need to thank me."

"Evan, you've been looking after me-"

"I look after you because I want to, but I wouldn't need to if some fucker didn't try and take a shot at you. He nearly killed you and I can't… I can't lose you."

Evan slumped back against the sofa and reached his free hand to tangle through his hair. He let his body slouch down and tipped his head back on the cushion to stare up at the ceiling. He wouldn't be taking care of (Y/n) like this if he didn't want to, he would do anything for her. But he would rather be taking care of her when she was sick from a cold or an illness. Not because someone thought they had the right to try and shoot them.

If things had been different, a few seconds later, if (Y/n) didn't move at the right time or if she was a little slower. If that gun had been aimed more to the left, she would be in a coffin right now and Evan would be inconsolable.

"You won't lose me, Evan. I'm not going anywhere, I'm right here," (Y/n) dared to move her hand up from his arm to brush her thumb across his chin. She tilted his head so he was looking at her, so he could see her smile and know that she was here. She wasn't going anywhere. She had a lucky escape five days ago but nothing like that would happen again.

Her fingers tickled the side of his jaw, feathering up and down until he was shuddering beneath her gentle touch. The more her fingers grazed his skin, the less resolve Evan had until he finally broke and pushed forward.

His hand cupped her jaw and skimmed across her neck before he leaned across and kissed her.

He'd dreamed about doing this.

She was his best friend. She was his roommate. She was his partner on the job. But Evan wanted her to be so much more. Evan wanted (Y/n) to be everything in the world to him, his friend, the one he lived with, the girl he kissed and came home to every night. Because she already held his heart in her hands and he never wanted it back.

He pulled her lower lip between his teeth and drank her in, panting against her lips until he was seeing stars and the ringing in (Y/n)'s ears drowned out into nothing but background noise.

He felt her hand move around from his jaw to loop around his neck while her other hand shifted up from his thigh to rest on his chest so she could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest.

Evan slipped his hands down until his fingers could slide beneath her legs and grip the back of her bare thighs were her pyjama shorts had ridden up her legs. He lifted her thighs up and dragged her across the small distance between them that felt like an ocean was keeping them apart. He pulled until her knees were clamped down on either side of his hips and she sank back on his thighs.

And when (Y/n) pulled back to try and gasp for air, Evan cupped her wrist and moved her hand up from his chest to loop it around the back of his neck. Along with the IV tube so he didn't squeeze it and stop the fluids from getting into her system.

His hand moved around to hold the back of her neck while his other hand shifted up from her thigh to grab her bum. He kept her leaning down on his chest and he smiled when he looked up and saw a dazed look in her hooded eyes.

(Y/n) scratched her nails against the short hairs at the back of his neck until Evan was clenching his jaw and he pulled her back down onto him.

(Y/n) could feel herself going lightheaded again, especially when Evan seemed to draw all the air out of her lungs and gulp it down for himself. His warm lips smothered hers and bit her lower lip until he was going to leave a bruise in his wake, but (Y/n) didn't care. She didn't want him to stop. She could feel him muttering something against her mouth but he spoke far too quietly for her to hear.

"Hm?"

"You're right. You're not going anywhere."

[thatoneautisticshark]

okay, so! I made sure to read your pinned post before making this ask (as I didn't want to ask for something you weren't comfortable writing), but anyways- I always had this thought in the back of my head about how poly 141 would be like after soap's death, I've tried to imagine it but idk, I just can't...so! What about a bit of angst with ghost, gaz and price? I feel like they wouldn't be the same, at least not when it comes to affection and other things, especially since I feel like if they did try to do something they would feel Incomplete without soap, or smt of that nature

Okay... so you are just trying to make me cry cool. /J

But honestly soap is the only fictional character I have ever cried continuously abouts death. I feel so bad for the babyy.

Anyways. Sooo Ghost retreats, he completely shuts everything and everyone out, staying locked in his room.

Gaz is a comfort seeker but assumes that Ghost needs to process alone, so stays pressed to Price instead.

Price is staying by Gaz, but once his shock and denial ends, he is not letting Ghost pull away. He had only seen the other pull this much away once before and it didn't end well.

And dammit he wasn't losing another partner.

Price will head into Ghosts room, won't push him to talk or touch, but just sit in there so he isn't alone, until he finally cracks sobbing into Prices chest.

They struggle bad. But it doesn't matter they are back in the field in a month, even tho they are missing a huge chunk of their team.

Nik who was kinda sorta part of the relationship is sure to be quieter, offering quiet comfort.

The boys feel overwhelming guilt after every mission, they came back alive and Soap didn't.

None of them wanted to spread his ashes, they really didn't. It felt like they'd lose some of him. But on a mission, they'd stopped at that cliff at sunrise, and Johnny had laughed saying how pretty it was, and he wanted to go here when he died.

The guys had shrugged it off, saying it wouldn't be happening for a while yet.

Ghost dread the ashes with his mask off, it felt a disservice and rude to spread his boyfriend with his mask on. Each boy brought something.

John a boonie hat, Kyle a cap, and Ghost a spare mask, and they dropped them with Johnny so he wouldn't be alone.

They didn't spread all the ashes, about a quarter. The remaining they got made into necklaces, which they kept close, holding kissing and praying on.

The other thing cost a lot, but it was worth it, because they knew Johnny would have loved it. After saving up a bit, they got a bit of his ashes put in a fire work and shot up even if the noise made them flinch, and the beauty of the fireworks didn't compare to the beauty they lost.

The urn stays decorated with flowers for the first few months. But is slowly changes as they process their grief. Would Johnny really love boring flowers around his urn? No.

They stick googly eyes on, and talk like he was still there, put a santa hat on at Christmas and scold the urn for forgetting to get them presents.

They function, despite missing a large hole, they develop more attachment issues. Strangely none of them have a major fear of death. They'd welcome it, if it wouldn't leave the others behind again. Perhaps one mission they'll die together and then they can see Johnny again.

:33

[shadowsndaisies]

iceman's final flight

WC: 3.3k

synopsis: ice's funeral, as you can imagine, is painful and heartwrenching

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: the brain rot my friends is absolutely insane.

You never liked wearing your full-service dress uniform. The whites meant shipping off, and the blacks always seemed so morose. And wearing it for Tom Kazansky's funeral, well, it was difficult to even get it on. Honestly, if Jake hadn't knocked on your door, you're not sure you would've been able to do it.

But he did.

He stood, fully dressed, and didn't say anything when he saw you still in your pajamas. Simply squeezed into your barrack and directed you to the shower. When you came out, he had your service dress laid out on your bed. he waited, back turned while you put them on, and then sat you down and did your hair. You focused on him while he did. The careful movements, the gentle brushes. You knew he had a sister, but this was much more of Jake than of Hangman.

He didn't ask you about it, even though you know he probably wanted to. He knew that your dad had been close with Ice; they'd been in the same Top Gun class, and that was all he needed to know for now.

So he helped you get ready.

He gave you a protein bar because he knew you wouldn't eat anything otherwise; quite frankly, you weren't sure you could stomach even that, but he patiently waited, watching, making sure you ate something. The blank look in your eyes was alarming because in the years he'd known you now, he'd seen your eyes get glassy with nostalgia, sadness, and heartbreak. He's witnessed the fire from anger, ferocity, and challenge; he's melted at your softness, your light; and been in awe of your mischievous streak, and cunning mind. He's never seen this, though, the blank dis-attached expression.

He guided you to the atrium where the rest of the recalled aviators were meeting before you'd all participate in the procession to the burial site. Hand pressed to your back, as you seemed to disassociate with everything around you.

Your dad was already on site when you arrived. Staring at the photo of Ice, and while he looked every inch the PACFLEET Commander that he was, you much preferred the collection of photos that you had. Polaroids and film shots from you as a toddler on his shoulders or in his lap, the collection that grew with each of your father's deployments spent in his home, of barbecues and beach days. This man helped raise you. He filled in the role of father when yours was on a deployment. He signed permission slips and stayed up with you that first night of every deployment when you were too anxious to sleep.

Goose had been your godfather, the one who you would go to if something ever happened to Mav, and then Goose was the one who was gone. And Mav changed the papers. He changed it because how could he place that pressure on Carole when she's battling her heartbreak and raising Bradley? Ice and Sarah were the ones who would assume you if he took his last flight before you were old enough to take care of yourself.

When your dad spotted you, he waved you over. You felt Jake's hand at your back reassuringly before you left the rest of the team.

Approaching your dad, you notice who is next to him, and you have to fight to not break down at the sight of Aunt Sarah.

"Ma'am," your voice cracked as you stood at attention.

There were tears in her eyes as she looked at you, "Stop, no," she corrected, arm grabbing you. "You're our girl, remember? I don't want Ma'am's, not from you, never from you," her whispers bring more tears to your eyes, and your vision swims as you try to breathe through it.

"Lieutenant Mitchell," you straighten at Cyclone's voice and turn to him. "A word before we begin," he calls, and you nod. "Apologies, Mrs. Kazansky, for the interruption.”

You squeeze Aunt Sarah's hand before walking over to the Vice Admiral, "Yes Sir," you respond, standing at attention.

"The Kazansky family has made a request," he begins, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

"Sir?" you ask.

"Mrs. Kazansky, has indicated that following the conclusion of TAPS, she would like the flag presented to her children," he explains.

"I'm sorry, Sir. But it was my understanding that you would be presenting the flag?" you finally ask, though your voice lacks its normal luster.

"In his instructions, Tom Kazansky requested that you present the flag to his family, Lieutenant," Cyclone says, and you freeze.

He did what?

Your eyes meet the Vice Admirals, and you're not sure how to react or what to say.

"Do you accept this final order from former PACFLEET Commandar Tom Kazansky, Lieutenant?" he presses when you stay silent too long.

"Sir, yes, Sir," you affirm.

"Good. You will honor his flag, Lieutenant, assume your position," he nods to the space where you assumed he would have been, but you nod your head in affirmation.

"Yes, Sir," you repeat.

He nods once more, a look in his eyes, but doesn't say anything else, instead walking away. You took a moment to breathe, then you turned and assumed the position across from Cyclone. Your eyes focused for a moment on the coffin in front of you. The resting place for the man who helped raise you. You swallowed the lump in your throat again and then assumed a position at attention. You made eye contact with your dad, who nodded at you with glassy eyes, with Natasha, who offered a sad smile in support, with Jake, whose expression was nearly unreadable but whose eyes were focused entirely on you, and finally with Bradley, who looked like he was in a similar boat, keeping back tears and swallowing the distress in his throat. He was so much bigger, so much older than when his mom passed, but his tells hadn't changed all that much. You focus on him for a moment, and despite the rift, the still uneven footing you both have with each other, there's something there in this moment, brought on by the man who loved you both the way he loved his own kids.

When TAPS began, a chill went down your spine, a finality of what it all meant settled over you, and a tear escaped. You sniffed but remained silent. Warlock was on your left, and Cyclone was across you. You followed the motions, folded the flag, and when the ends were tucked in, you approached Aunt Sarah. She nodded with a sad smile, and you continued, stopping beside Ryan and Elizabeth. Ryan and Elizabeth, who had been your younger siblings, who you love so much, and who you used to play with in their playpens. Ryan and Elizabeth who were both married with their own kids now. They looked so incredibly sad, but as they stared at you, Elizabeth started shaking her head like she couldn't believe this was happening. And when you held out your hands, flag proffered. Ryan's hands clenched, but he waited for Elizabeth. When he looked at you for help, you cast a sideways glance at Aunt Sarah, who was crying silently now.

"Lizzie," you whisper, and Ryan's eyes blow wide.

Talking was not a part of the process, especially informally, not when presenting honors to a grieving family, but this was your family, too.

"Lizzie, take the flag," you whisper again, and this time she meets your eyes, and you nod encouragingly at her. "Take the flag, kid," you repeat, and this time, she uses one hand to hold her brothers as she accepts the flag. Ryan's other hand supports it, and if you squeeze his hand gently as you hand it off, no one else needs to realize it except him.

You step back and salute the Kazansky family, and your father steps up to do his part. His wingman until the end, you watched, arm still raised, as your father approached the head of the casket and placed the aviation wings at the head, pounding it into the casket.

His final flight.

The sound of the pin pounded in place and echoed in your ears long after the jets of salute and the sound of TAPS.

When it was over, and the civilians began to walk away, you moved to fall in line with the aviators. A space had appeared beside Bradley and Hondo. You swallowed as you stepped into it. You could feel his eyes on you as you did.

When the call for dismissal was stated, your whole body seemed to sag a bit, tired, strung out, and heartbroken.

"(Y/n)-" Bradley's the one who said your name so softly, so broken, that you almost caved. You almost caved and launched yourself at him the way you would have in the past.

Almost.

Because Ryan and Elizabeth were walking straight up to you at the same time, calling you with a wavering, "Miss Mitchell," the tone nearly reminiscent of when you were kids.

"Kid Kazansky," you greet in kind, matching his tone.

"Is it bad form to hug you now?" Elizabeth asks though she doesn't really wait; instead, she lunges at you.

You rock back a bit and feel Bradley's arm steady you before it retreats.

"Never bad form for a Lizzie hug," you whisper, and she sobs a little.

"Bradley?" Ryan's surprise is evident as he stares at the man beside you. His eyes jumped at you and then Bradley like he couldn't figure out the puzzle before him, not that you blamed him; you were having a hard time, too.

"Wait, Brad?" Lizzie asks, turning to catch as Ryan and Brad shake hands.

"You two grew up," he notes sadly.

"Well you'd know-" you pinch at Lizzie's side, she had a smart mouth, something Ice and Sarah liked to blame on you, but now was not the time, and this was not the place.

Elizabeth huffed but stepped aside to stare at Bradley, and he stood and took it while Ryan stepped up and hugged you. If he squeezed tight, you squeezed back, and when he pulled back, you could see today's toll on him.

The Kazansky kids have been prepared for this day from the moment Ice was diagnosed, maybe even earlier when you consider all the deployments, but just because it was a possibility, the reality of it was painful to experience and to witness.

"Mom wants to know if you're able to come to dinner tonight, she said to add she's not afraid to pull the grieving widow card," Ryan asks, and you smile ruefully.

"I-" you begin, but Lizzie cuts in.

"We understand, though, if it won't work," she reassures you. "Dad mentioned some special detachment as the reason you were back for a bit," she admits.

"Time sensitive and top secret," Ryan supplies, and you frown at them.

"When'd you two get so smart?" you ask with a frown, bringing a small watery chuckle out of Aunt Sarah, who'd finally walked over herself.

"Probably around the same time you did, sweetheart," she says gently, taking your face in her hands.

"I am so proud of you," she begins, and the tears reappear in an instant.

"Aunt Sarah-" you try to stop her, all too aware of how the rest of the detachment is unabashed in witnessing this moment.

"I am so incredibly proud of you, Lieutenant Mitchell, but I am even more proud of (Y/n)," she begins again. "And he was too. He was so, so proud of you. And folding the flag, it was unfair of him to ask that of you, but I am so proud of you and so grateful that it was you handing it off, holding his honor," she says, and you break.

A sob slips past your lips, and she pulls you forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, mindful of your cap. "I will see you at dinner, Lieutenant. It's perfectly alright if you're late. We've spent a lifetime on the Navy's clock; we can last another day," she says finally, and you nod. "Good, bring your dad," she adds as an afterthought.

"Yes, Aunt Sarah," you nod.

"Good girl," she smiles again, still holding your face, and when she lets go, she straightens your coat, just like she did after hugging you at your graduation. She finally looks down the line at the aviators standing nearby. She starts with Bradley, directly on your left, "You too Bradley Bradshaw, I expect to see you at dinner, and I demand one song, any song," she says forcefully, staring hard until he nods his affirmation at her, lips sealed shut.

She looks down the line; you know she recognizes Yale and Harvard from when you were in Top Gun originally; the two had become your guests for poker nights and barbecues. She turns back to you, "Bring all twelve of them," she finally decides, and you hear the intake of breath beside you.

"Aunt Sarah-" you begin.

"Let's teach them who he really was, huh?" she says softly, and you nod.

"Yes, Ma'am," you agree.

She smiles, tapping your cheek one last time before turning to her kids. Each loops an arm with her, and they walk back toward their cars. The second they're away, you sag fully, all but ripping your cap off, breathing too fast; you know you are.

Bradley reaches for you first, but you flinch away, and he freezes. Nat's calling your name, and the rest of the team is lining up around you protectively. The first set of eyes you meet are green. Jake. Slowly, he shows you his hands, and one starts at your shoulder, skims down your arm, and takes your hand, pulling it into his chest.

"C'mon, 'Thena," he whispers softly, "five senses," he adds, and you nod jerkily.

Five things you can see: green eyes, Jake's ribbons, Bradley still hovering beside you, the grass, the jet trail in the sky

four things you can touch: Jake's dress shirt, the cufflink of Jake's coat, his hand, which is holding yours in place, the chain of your dog tags around your neck.

Three things you can hear: distant chattering of all the funeral attendees, Jake's gentle affirmations, Hondo on the phone

Two things you can smell: Bradley's cologne, the fresh dirt, and topsoil.

One thing you can taste is blood from where you'd bitten your lip during the ceremony.

You take a staggering breath at the end and let go of Jake, who straightens beside you and waits for your next move. He allows you a moment to continue evening out your breathing.

"Two feet on the ground, right?" he asks.

"Copy, you," you confirm.

He nods, satisfied by your response.

You finally look around at how the team had shuffled to keep you out of sight from anyone else. Yale and Harvard are sending you concerned glances as they stand guard.

"I'm fine," you tell them, waving off the concern. "I'm fine, it was just too much, at once, but, I'm fine," you say, readjusting your cap back on your head.

"Maybe you should take a minute, Athena," Bradley cuts in.

"I said I'm fine," you negate.

"Just take a breath! Do your box breathing-"

"Box breathing? Are you serious Bradley?" your tone finally loses the flat edge it's had all morning, giving way to incredulity. To his credit, his eyes blew wide at it. "Box breathing hasn't worked since I started pulling Gs regularly," you scoff. "I said, I'm fine!"

"You don't look fine!" he argues, the two of you facing off across each other now.

"And how would you know?" you challenge, voice dropping back to a reasonable level, but suddenly so cold. "How could you possibly know what fine looks like for me now?"

He freezes again; it's a direct dig, more so than any of the wave-offs you've done when he tries to talk to you since you both got reassigned.

"If Athena says she's fine, then she's fine. I'd take her at her word any day," Harvard cuts in, and you look at your friend gratefully.

"Seconded, c'mon, we can give you a lift back to base," Yale agrees, and you nod.

You spare another glance back, focusing on Jake. He nods at you, though you can see the concern in his eyes, and you nod again, turning and walking in line with Harvard and Yale.

"My saviors," you whisper to them.

"It's a hard day, and the absolute least we could do," Harvard offers.

"You're getting softer with age, Brigham," you chirp, but there's no heat behind it.

"Speaking of soft," Yale hedges, and you side-eye Logan. "Hangman knows about your anxiety attacks?"

"Not only does he know, he knows how to talk you down," Harvard supplies.

"Don't," you warn them.

"Today is hard, we know. We know it's going to be hard for a long time," Harvard back peddles.

"We just… we wanna look out for you Athena, you always did for us, you still do," Yale clarifies. "Look, Hangman's a cocky bastard-"

"I believe Phoenix was the one to coin the term Texan Douchewad," Harvard supplies.

"But," Yale sends his WSO a look, "it's obvious, he's different with you."

You were content to ignore the prodding, but Harvard stopped, handing over the passenger seat door. He planed to open it for you but pauses and holds out a hand.

"Just hold on a second, please," Harvard asks when you start glaring at him. You huff but pause. "Look, today… today sucks, but seeing him help you makes him suck slightly less in my book. You're the only person he didn't ditch during the dogfights. We assumed he was brown-nosing because Mav's your dad, but obviously there's more there. Ice was… he was so much more than PACFLEET Commander to you, we know that. We've seen what you and he were like together. I consider myself really fucking lucky that you trusted us enough to share that shit with us, and clearly Hangman knows it too, but he hasn't made a single Nepo-Baby joke the entire detachment," he lines out, and when you drop his gaze, he sighs.

"Athena, we learned day fucking one at Top Gun that you are a force and a half, we have always got your back, we just… we need to know the play is, that's all," Yale tags on.

You lift your gaze and stare at the two; Brigham and Logan were the only Aviator/WSO team that got recalled. Payback and Fanboy hadn't worked together before, nor Phoenix and Bob, or even Fritz and Halo, just them. You're stuck on how well they know each other for a second, and you are so glad they got called back, too.

"The play.. the playbook is on fire," you admit, and they share a nervous glance. "It's in a fucking dumpster fire, with jet fuel poured on top," you tell them, and they wince. "But, the plan is we go back to base, we finish the day, we go to dinner. I'll probably cry my fucking eyes out, so hopefully, one of you will bring tissues, and then tomorrow we go back to work because Ice died, but the clock doesn't stop, and he'd be pissed if I let Jake or Bradley make Team Leader over me," you huff out.

It hurts so much because his phrasing would have been over my dead body will you let cocky aviators walk over you, but he is dead.

You just buried his body.

That doesn't change the point, Kiddo.

Your heart clenches at the response because it even sounds like Ice.

Ice cold, no mistakes, the voice continues.

"Ice cold, no mistakes," you repeat softly.

"Then that's the play," Brigham nods, finally opening the door for you.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891

[kings-highway]

do you think after awhile of being apart, kagehina visit each other and put an end to their long distance relationship, for awhile anyway. i want to think about them playing volleyball together as a team again after so long, and the soul shining happiness they feel when their quick attacks work just as well, if not better as they did when they were in high school. it would be such a special moment i think. it would symbolizes their bond that hasent even been dented in the time they have physically been away from each other

--- "40-something" ---

There comes a moment, when both of them are forced to retire, when they're older, injured, sore, tired, that Kageyama finds himself in Hinata's little apartment, and they're both too afraid to even try. They had thought they'd play volleyball together again, as old men at the ripe age of 40, but they don't bring it up. Hinata cooks breakfast, because he's become quite a fan of cooking these last few years, and Kageyama reads headlines in the news out loud, calling across the small space of the apartment. It's quiet, and soft, and domestic, but they both think it: should we take the volleyball out? Should we go toss it around, be like we were when we were fourteen? Isn't that who we are at our core?

Hinata sits beside Kageyama on the couch and enjoys the wait of his arm across his shoulder and imagines what it would be like to try the minus tempo again. He briefly fantasizes about closing his eyes as he leaps, that beautiful, synchronized moment of trust like they used to so long ago. Kageyama can still do it, get the ball to him in pin-point precision, he knows it. He trusts it more than anything. The weight of the ball in his hand, the bang, the way Kageyama would clench his fist and grin as Hinata did it. Hinata doesn't need to close his eyes anymore. He's a brilliant spiker, his in-air game is second to none, he's his own man now. But there's a moment, maybe, when he's 40 something, when he wishes, just for a second, to be that kid again.

Maybe it's because it's been so long since he's really been with Kageyama, but he wishes, slightly, that he could go back to being a dependant fourteen year old, could go back to before Kageyama had played with the best spikers in the world, when Hinata was the only one who trusted him enough to hit his quick attacks.

He misses it.

They won gold medals and hit great victories and played careers that will go down in the records of the greatest players and yet, he still feels like he yearns for being fourteen. For being together.

Kageyama drinks coffee in the morning, he developed a taste for it in Italy. He wears clothes differently and his hair is a little different. Hinata rests his head back against his shoulder, and listens to him talk about world events and upcoming holidays.

Do they say it? Should Hinata say it?

He's old now. Jumping like he does - did - isn't exactly feasible. That's why he retired. But if he can't jump, is he even anything to Kageyama? Kageyama threw away players that couldn't keep up with him. And where did that leave Hinata, with his knees that ached in the cold and his shoulder that seized up when he slept on it?

He plays with Kageyama's fingers as they rest on his shoulder, wishing for an easy answer.

For their whole lives, they'd always just been volleyball players. That's the only context Hinata knew how to be with him in.

But he doesn't want him to leave.

His concern, only, is with being thrown out. If Hinata doesn't speak up, if he doesn't ask Kageyama to go toss a ball around with him, will Kageyama leave him? Does he want a partner that will stay young forever, spry forever, does he expect Hinata to have the same energy he did at twenty?

Kageyama has been in Brazil for 36 hours, and neither of them have said the word "volleyball" out loud.

Hinata wants him to stay in Brazil forever, but someone is going to have to say the word "volleyball" eventually.

Hinata isn't sure he can hit Kageyama's furious quick attack anymore, not like he could in his youth. But he thinks if he closed his eyes and leapt, he still trusted him enough to swing with all his might. He thinks they could do it. Even when Hinata is eighty, and he can't jump at all, he's still close his eyes and swing and trust Kageyama to get him the ball.

He presses Kageyama's fingers to his lips, kissing his nails. This gets his partner's attention, and Kageyama looks over to him. Kageyama sighs.

"I'm boring you, aren't I?"

"W-what? No! No, not at all, what do you mean?"

"Reading, like this, you probably want to go out," Kageyama says, and there's a note of shame to his voice. "Sorry. I just... Like the quiet morning with you-" he pauses to squeeze their linked fingers. "I like you sitting with me like this."

Hinata gives him a smile. "I like this too."

"You're sure you don't want to go out?" Kageyama asks. "I'm sure there's a thousand places you want to show me."

"We have time."

Kageyama nods slightly, and Hinata adds:

"Right?"

"Right what?"

Kageyama looks back to him, Hinata searches his face. "Me and you," he continues, after a second. "We don't... Always have to run things in minus tempo, do we? We can slow down. We have time, right?"

Kageyama smiles slightly, leaning forward to press a kiss to Hinata's forehead, a small, singular action that tightens his chest and makes everything fall back into place.

"Yeah," Kageyama agrees. "We have time."

Hinata settles back into his shoulder, smiling more as he relaxes. Whether or not he can play like he used to, he'll hit any ball Kageyama tosses for him. He made that promise at fourteen, and he intends to keep it.

They'd go play volleyball tomorrow.

Today, though, he was just going to take it easy. Today he'd just enjoy having Kageyama back.

[theitaliansalad]

rewarding all of my loyalists for their patience by posting yet another "pieces of hate 2.0" sneak peek.

the whole thing is coming soon, guys, I promise.

So, first game you come see and I lose, she starts, You might be my unlucky charm. 

He laughs, Damn, first time I’ve been called that. I’m almost honoured. 

Being a sport about it, with a smile on his face. Wearing jeans, a sweatshirt and a leather jacket. Drove here with his fancy car. People taking his pictures at all times. Plastered already all over the internet, having people, well, some people, those kind of people who love hating on things and on other people and on women, especially, those people, left wondering what’s a player like Pedri doing watching dumb chicks shaking asses running after a ball. 

A true ass tightening game, Pedri offers

Makes her grin, despite the let down, Thank you for the compliment, she replies, But they trashed us. 

You made them angry with that goal in the first leg, he says, shrugging, as if to say that’s how things go and why did she except anything else and he adds, Made Alexia angry. 

Oh yeah, she’s let me know as much, she comments.

Pedri smiles.

And I think Pina traumatised your goalkeeper, he says.

Hannah? Mh, that might be, she nods, Sonia peels her eyelids back with tape and then forces her to watch hours of footage of Pina scoring on her to make her get over it. 

Then Pina might not be the reason why she’s traumatised, Pedri comments.

Laughs, humming. Runs a hand through her hair. Fingers wet. He stares at her and she holds his stare. Doesn't know what to tell him, what to give him. Hanging in the balance. Both knowing and ignoring the reasons why they're here one in front of the other in a corridor at Cruyff's stadium. Even brought his mates along. They'd be there nonetheless, for Barça. But is he here for the same reason or is he here for that reason and also for her, on top of that? And if that's the case, does that make her happy? Closes her eyes for a second. Imagines it's Ryan in his place. Feels no excitement about that. She'd be fine with it, glad he made the trip to be there for her. He's not here, anyway. And Pedri's here out of convenience. They're all here for that. All of them here doing things because they feel good. 

You were great out there, he tells her.

Chuckles, Doesn't feel like it, right now. 

I know, but it will pass, he nods, You know what I do when I feel like that after a tough game?

What do you do?, she sighs. 

I watch both legs of the 2014 Champions League quarter finals against Atletico, he says.

Frowns, trying to recall those games. Memory doesn't even go that back. Was a child. 

Didn't Barça go out losing 2-1 on aggregate?

Pedri nods, They did, he confirms, But the year after that they won, and spectacularly so. That helps me, you know? Makes me understand that you can always come back. It's just a bad 90 minutes, not a bad season. Today it seems impossible but tomorrow, you already know you'll come back. Just not against Barça, sì?

Smirks, Not against Barça, sure. Gonna win this whole competition just out of spite so I can pull a Caldentey 2.0.

Hey, at least you're not Arsenal.

What, you don't like red either?, she asks.

Pff, he rolls his eyes, waving his hand in the hair, I look horrible in it. 

Nods. Has to go with the rest of the girls. They're piling up one after the other, moving towards the exit where the bus awaits them. Getting away from here as fast as she can. He looks at old footage to feel better about his mistakes. She'd put her head in the sand. This loss is heavy. Losing in the WSL - well, firstly, that doesn't really happen, and when it happens, it's easier because the whole league feels alien to her. She's a tourist. Someone who's just passing through. Champions League is different. Harder by design and by definition, yes. Losing against Barça, however, against the team that's put her out there, it hurts just a little more. Losing against the girls she's learned to call friends, the ones who welcomed her when she was just another climber coming in from Barça B trying to do something of herself, that's gut wrenching. Losing against Alexia, however, that's deeper. It's like losing to her and losing her at the same time. The confirmation that she's not good enough. That there's this distance between them that won't ever be gone. Never going to be truly equals. By the time Xenia rises to her full potential, Alexia will hang the boots. 

Feels that day hunting her already. Patiently waiting on the horizon, rifle in hand, waiting to shoot them all down once the time comes. Time's a hunter itself. 

It's nice that you came, she tells him. 

Of course, he nods, then smiles, I keep an eye on all great players.

I see, she bites her lip, You came for LJ, then. 

Shakes his head, laughs, and slightly touches her arm, half a shove, a playful game. Asks her for a picture to commemorate the moment because he won't ask for her jersey, can't. Taking the picture, wraps his arm around hers and she throws in a thumb up, smiles for the camera, wet hair and almost dead eyed, beaten by the loss. Tells him to think of a witty caption. Says he'll do his best. He goes in for a hug first, this time. Pats his back and smiles. Briefly, touches his cheek with her hand before she kisses his cheek, and then she's gone. Leaves him with empty arms, with only a vision of herself, an illusion.

Wishes she could pass out in the bus. Head resting against the window, earphones in. Can't even relax or pay attention to her music playing. Going back and forth thinking about the game. Starting to forget moments of it. Won't remember any of it in a few hours. That's why they always look at footage, 'cause they forget. Rinse and repeat. Playing day and day out, some games, they all become the same. But some you remember, always. Alexia, she remembers them all. Obsesses about ever single details. Remembers every second of all those 90 minutes. Goes over games times and times again, replays them all in her head. Got Aitana to yell at her once, told her to knock it off and leave them be and Alexia yelled back at her and the two of them started fighting right there and then in the locker room, in Catalan, didn't understand a single word but it looked bad; and then Irene stepped in and grabbed Alexia by the arm and told her to shut up and go take that shower and silence filled up the whole locker room and she thought Alexia would yell at Irene, too, but she didn't. Grabbed a towel and showered and didn't say a word for the next two days, not even at training. Found her going over videos of that cursed game with Aitana on the third day. 

Sleepless. Hotel room in Barcelona. Used to share an apartment with a few girls here. Old teammates from Barça B are still there, probably. Doesn't keep up with any of them, really. Girls probably hate her for moving on. Still fond of them. Thinking maybe she should be the one to reach out. Still in the darkness, under the covers. Can't get her brain to shut up. 

Gets a text at three in the morning from Alexia. Woman gotta sleep nine hours but not on Champions League night. That's the exception. Says she never sleeps after a Champions League game. Too much adrenalin on her. Sent her a link to a YouTube video. 

Even added: buenas noches, nena.

Bites her lip. Clicks the video open. First thing she sees, Lucy Bronze in the press box of Cruyff's stadium where she's allowed to shoot her FIFA sponsored show when she analyses games live. Lucy, a big table in front of her, a sports journalist on her side and on the other side of the table, stands Jenni Hermoso. First time catching a live glimpse of her since that Olympics final. Never had any official ceremony for her retirement. Refused all of the honours. Pina got her number in the National Team and just like that - Jenni Hermoso, now a ghost. Seen just a bunch of pictures of her since then. Working for Atletico Madrid, officially, as an insider. Not really part of the coaching stuff, but working for the club. And on the side, has this gig with Bronze and also comments games for DAZN every once in a while. Not too shabby. Knows what she's doing. Growing the game from the outside. With her opinions, with her ideas, with her experience. Atletico's now in the second place of the league. Kicked off Real Madrid. Now just a bunch of points away from Barça. Means whatever Jenni was brought in for it's working. 

Almost scared to click play on the video. Uploaded only an hour ago. Takes a deep breath and taps her finger on the screen. Whole thing is in Spanish with English subs. Bronze talks about the game. Not that good of a performance from Chelsea. Tactical analysis, praising Barça. Discussing players. Gets a grin on her face. And it goes like this:

Jenni, we must talk about her, now. Your little shadow. Xenia el-Haddad. On loan to Chelsea. What do you think? Is she coming back to Barça next season?

Ball’s in Jenni’s court, now. Smiles as she starts answering the question. 

Absolutely, Xenia is coming back for sure. She is young and she is a brilliant player. We’ve seen as much with Chelsea, even if today she’s struggled a bit more, but this is a player who comes in and changes the game. Brings the chaos in, rattles the other team. Very quick, already, very inventive and intuitive. Bold as well and Barça likes that. She's a playmaker, runs, scores, creates chances, can decently defend when she has to. 

And just imagine how she's going to improve and evolve. 

Clearly, yes. And she's also mastering the false 9 role and Barça hasn’t been able to work with a good false 9 in a while-.

It was you, no?, the last time, Bronze interrupts, once again smirking, The golden era, back then. We were all scared of facing you at some point. Do you think Xenia can be your Barça heir, so to speak?

Jenni laughs, flicks her hair back behind her shoulder, grins. 

Pues, no sé, but if I did leave anything of myself at Barça I would be very happy if she picked it up. Very promising player. I look forward to see her back here. Barça’s her team, her style and it’s where she needs to be. 

Video fades to black and ends after that. 

Shocked, incapable of moving at first. Doesn't even know if she's still breathing. Ears booming like when you spend too long in a club, when the stadium’s filled up to the brink and the drums are too loud and so are the cheers and anthems. Scared of having hallucinated all that. Every single word. Rolls the video back. Watches it all over again. Still the same words. Still Jenni standing there in front of Lucy Bronze, wearing a long, black coat, eyeliner and those mismatched irises of hers. Compelling person. Mesmerising. Holds everyone's attention on her. 

She did leave something behind.

Has to know that. 

If she never corrects anyone when they tell her she looks like the Jenni Hermoso. If she's learned to live wit it. Grew comfortable with that part of her identity, actually. If she started playing as a false 9 because of that resemblance. If she studies the game. If she works on improving every day. All of that, yes, because Jenni did leave something of herself behind. Spent so much time watching Jenni exist from afar. And now Jenni knows she exists as well. This person to whom she's never said one single word. A person who respects her without even knowing her. Some times, some days, forgets Jenni doesn't play anymore, that she lives on only in YouTube compilations and video tributes on the internet. Goes to bed some nights, thinking, Jenni's playing tomorrow, but she isn't. And it's hard to deal with it, to make peace with the fact that that chapter of both of their lives, both hers and Jenni's, is over. One of her pillars, gone. Felled by time and personal choices. Will be able to say: I played at Alexia Putellas' side; I lifted trophies with Aitana Bonmatì. Will never say: I played with Jenni Hermoso. Wrecks something inside of her. 

Brings her hand to her face, covers her mouth. Finds wet skin. Tears rolling down her cheeks. In a second, all of the pain from the game they lost earlier - gone, erased. Taken over by something else. Some kind of distress, melancholia. Another kind of pain. 

Jenni was there. Right up there looking down on the field at her while she was playing. And Alexia. The liar. Said she had her mother and sister over. True. Just not only them. Fuck knows what Alexia’s up to, these days, anyway. If anyone ever knows what she's up to at any moment. Been seeing reports of people seeing her around Madrid, in the sense that people have taken pictures with her in Salamanca and then at Parque de El Retiro and also in Chamberì. Smirks at the thought and shakes her head. Rolls the video back once more. Watches it again, right from the start. Cheeks end up hurting from smiling too much. 

[cheriladycl01]

That'll be the back up generator! George Russell x CoffeeShopOwner! Reader

Plot: George Russell finds himself in a coffee shop after the Italian Grand Prix but a storm makes him get stuck in the shop.

A/N: Tell me your views on Sam and Colby and like other youtubers in the comments and if you like them!

It was a really slow and hot day in the cafe, it had been your dream since you were a child to own a coffee shop on the street you grew up in, in Milan.

You got a degree in the UK at the request of your parents before coming back to your home country to set up the shop. You had the exact shop in mind on the street and it was the same one that had been run down an abandoned for years.

You completely re-done up the shop, making it exactly how you envisioned it. You had loads of plants running throughout and a little street section with seats out the front and a small balcony that looked over the whole street.

You were very busy today, everyone seemed to be wanting iced coffee's and smoothies. Loads of tourists came in for water, making you chuckle each time when they enunciated their words assuming you couldn't understand English.

But it started to get a little later and darker and people were now choosing to go to bar's as they were opening now. It was a Saturday so you new it would be busy because of the race in Monza and most people coming back to Milan centre to spend their evening.

There was no-one in the store right now and you let the last two staff go home from their shift early as you'd heard them talking about going clubbing tonight. You were making yourself a smoothie the blender so loud you didn't hear the bell chime. Just as the blender stopped you tuned into the conversation.

"This looks pretty quiet, lets stay here" one of their voices said that sounded British but had a slight American twang to it.

"I forgot cafe's were a thing!" a louder American voice out of the group added as you watched as they took the booth at the back. That's also when you noticed the team wear they were in, they worked for the racing teams.

"Yeah, Carlos' life hack apparently!" a fully British voice says and you walk slowly over to the table.

"Hey guys, what can I sort out for you today?" you ask, and they all push up their glasses, their faces were red and a some of their foreheads were lined with sweat.

"Oh, hello erm could be just get some water for now and food menu's please" another guy asks in Williams gear and you smile nodding, grabbing them from the counter next to them. You grab a jug of ice cold water and four glasses placing them down on the table.

They eventually give you their orders and you make yourself busy in the back small kitchen putting together the sandwiches and salads they'd requested.

You make light conversation with them handing them out eventually finding out they they are some of the drivers, Lewis and George who both drove for the Mercedes team, and Alex and Logan who drove for the Williams team.

You saw how they were struggling with the heat of the shop, you kept the water consistent and move the fan that was behind the counter with you to face them, you couldn't imagine how exhausted they felt after a race.

Eventually, Logan left first saying that Oscar and Lando wanted to hang out which you can only assume were other drivers. Then Lewis and Alex left at the same time with different reasons, one being Alex girlfriend just landed and Lewis wanted to do some shopping.

"And then there was one!" George sighed with a shake of his head, taking a bite of the pastry you'd brought him over.

"Hey, you want a smoothie, on the house of course. I'm just trying out some new things" you smile, trying to engage him in conversation.

He looked up at you with a huge smile and a nod of his head.

"Yeah, I'm down to try anything!" he smiled. You go behind the counter starting on cutting the fruit for the smoothie. You would look up every now and then catching eyes with George who always seemed to be gazing at you when you would meet his eye.

You bring him the smoothie over on the tray, making it a little fancier than you probably would when you put it on the menu.

"One, smoothie by yours truly!" you joke, smiling down at him.

"Your accent is strange" he says smiling up at you with his head tilting to the side.

"Thanks?" you offer with a small laugh not exactly sure what to say.

"No-no not like that, you obviously are Italian but you have an English twang to it?" he offers looking over your features.

George didn't think he'd ever met someone so beautiful. And it was an effortless kind of beauty as well, your hair up in a claw clip and a little messy from a hard day at work, flour covering the bottom part of your apron and a little sweat building under your eyes from the heat in the cafe.

"Ah, I studied in the UK for a while before I came back here, but i was born here in Milan!" you explain knowing what he was on about, you'd easily picked up on some British slang in your time their and the speech patterns to make your English sound easier on the ear.

"What did you study?" he asks, a look of shock on his face.

"Business management!" you smile. And he takes his first sip of the smoothie you gave him, his eyes going wide.

"That's amazing! And I'm guessing that's how you came to own this place?" his eyes light up taking another sip.

"This is really good, what's in it?" he interrupts his own question looking up at you.

"That is a secret!" you grin before walking off and over to the counter grabbing your own smoothie you'd made earlier. You check the time seeing it's around half an hour till you close, you walk out the front to bring the street chairs and tables in until you see and feel the weather.

It was really windy, and you felt the spotting of rain. The sky had turned awfully dark. You bring all the tables and chairs in before locking and bolting the door.

"Er, are you kidnapping me?" George asks seeing you latch the bottom bit of the door tightly.

"No no, I'm sorry the weather out there it just really picked up and the doors the original so it's pretty loose unless it's latched and I don't want it flying off!" you explain, worried he genuinely thought you were trying to hold him hostage.

"Holy shit yeah!" he exclaims looking out the front windows seeing the wind affecting some of the other shop owners who are hurriedly trying to pull their chairs or stock in depending what kind of place it was.

You both sit together but the storm only picks up and after what feels like an hour, you and George started to play uno which he had on him for some reason.

The door of the cafe was rattling and you could hear the whistling of the wind flow its way from the upstairs balcony and down the stairs.

"It's getting worse" you explain. Looking out the window and he nods. It was way past closing now but the streets looked so bad, no-one was out on them and George didn't feel like risking walking back to the hotel with the amount of debris flying around.

However within seconds, the room went dark and you gasped, not being able to see anything.

"Did, did we just loose power?" he asks, feeling around for his phone only for his hand to rest on your thigh, another gasp coming from your mouth and a string of apologies from George.

"It's okay, I just didn't expect it and it's so dark right now and I'm scared shitless!" you offer with a small chuckle.

"Where's like, your power supply and stuff!" he asks, finally turning the torch on his phone on, sending light up into the room when he turns the phone face down leaving it in between you two.

"I have a back up generator, that should kick in once it realizes there's no power" you smile, looking at his handsome face light up by the torch.

However, it also looked really creepy the way the light shaped his sharper features. It made you laugh a little.

"What?" he asks laughing along with you.

"Sorry, I feel like I'm in a Sam and Colby YouTube video right now, telling ghost stories while in a haunted house" you admit, changing so your on your knees.

"Well, this place isn't haunted right?" he laughs nervously.

"Nope, not as far as I'm aware!" you smile, it's gone extremely cold since the storm started and you shivered a little. There had been no predicted cold areas today so you hadn't brought anything with you.

"Oh, you look cold take this!" he smiles handing you his team jacket. You shrug it on with a small thank you. You both talk about everything you could think of to ask one another. From questions about his driving to your time in university. You told him all your funny club night story's from your first year where you still weren't really accustomed to British Culture and what is right and what was seen as wrong. He told you about how he used to be in Alex and Logan's team but basically got moved into a better car. You didn't really understand how it worked and you listened before asking your questions that he was more than happy to answer.

He's looking at you, holding your eye contact the whole time you both talk even if you look away to use your hands to embellish what your saying. Sometimes you used Italian words that George didn't know but in the context of the sentence he'd be able to work out the English for it and explain to you.

He's so impossibly close to you, that you think he might be leaning in closer and closer.

Before anything happens, a whirring from the back startles you both.

"That'll be the back up generator" you smile looking at the low level lighting and small strip lights all turning on.

"Er yeah, i guess it is!" he smiles looking over you. You get up onto your knees seeing that the wind is slowly dying down.

"I recon you can go now, it looks like the wind had died down enough!" you smile unlatching the door.

"Yeah, thank you. Er, yeah thanks" he smiles walking out the door. You follow him out locking up from the outside before taking off in the other direction. You didn't know if you'd ever see him again but you hoped he would.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313

[patriamrealm]

I probably should have mentioned my previous ask was for the aspect!AU too...

Sorry if this is too much stuff...

You know N never really battles you with the same pokemon twice, because he always releases them right after, and his backstory says he was raised by several pokemon in the wild before Ghetsis found him, so it's easy enough to assume that N never had a individual pokemon he was closer to than the others, and after Ghetsis found him then it would be easy enough to keep him away from pokemon enough that a bond wouldn't form. They do canonically mention that they only bring him abused pokemon that he doesn't understand (for some reason he just can't hear them)

As to how team Plasma might work (baring what you put down a while back) I could imagine Ghetsis playing off the idea (lie) that pokemon don't appear to get anything from a bond partnership, while humans get all these perks. And they bond with such scary pokemon too! Humans clearly only care about the power, because if they loved/cared about all their pokemon equally they wouldn't gain aspects. If they didn't want power why bother to pick such scary mon to bond with, or why even fully evolve? And if they truly love their partners, why force them to fight at all, why not do all the fighting themselves? The usual arguments would still work too, why keep pokemon in pokeballs, why gym battles, blah, blah, blah, but there'd be the undermining of the entire concept of aspects and bonds going on at the same time.

Even afterwards there could be lingering effects, like some people looking at those with aspects as being somehow more dangerous, more inclined to violence, especially if they're fully evolved. Did they do that because they wanted to match their partner? Or because they wanted to be more powerful? And why pick such a dangerous pokemon to bond with? Why not something smaller? Less deadly? Like a lillipup? And some people fighting alongside their partners, isn't that dangerous? You're encouraging a child to run out in the middle of a heated battle and get hurt?

It's all very messy...

Lucky team neo plasma just want to kill everyone, way simpler!

This was long, I'm sorry, your AU gave me world building thoughts...

ohh yea this is all very good, add that to team plasma having been at first a form of political power that had been in charge untill very recently, people having widespread aspects in Unava still being pretty new, and you have the high potential for the place to be still very politically unstable/ fragile. Really letting Team plasma have a grip and support the first time.

Second time around they'd have less support but still enough that it would allow them to go further than they should have.

And do not apologize this is delightful!

[bcdrawsandwrites]

(Please reblog if you want to, do not repost! Do not post to Pinterest!)

[ID: A Team Fortress 2 fanfic cover featuring a render of Pyro and Spy standing back-to-back in profile, with Pyro facing left and Spy facing right, standing against a dark purple background. Spy is smoking. Both characters have a yellow/orange rim lighting. Above them is the title of the fic, Flickering, glowing the same glowing yellow/orange. /end ID]

Fandom: Team Fortress 2

Rating: K+

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship

Characters: Spy, Pyro, all the other mercs, and Miss Pauling (primarily Spy and Pyro, but everyone else has important moments too)

Warnings: TF2-typical violence, PTSD, panic attacks, trauma in general (none of these guys are okay)

Description: After the events of the comics, the mercs try to go back to how things were, but it's never that easy.

Spy can see his teammates going through their own struggles… but something seems to be very, very wrong with Pyro in particular.

And since no one else seems to be doing anything about this, Spy makes it his mission to get to the bottom of what is troubling Pyro. For no particular reason.

Beta Readers: @mechmolar, @gonturan0, @junuve (Teeth (mechmolar) also did the render for the cover!)

Notes: This fic is legit like around 80% complete already because it takes me forever to actually post anything these days. I'll be posting new chapters as I feel like it. It'll be around 10 chapters in total. Also, Pyro is nonhuman and uses it/its pronouns in this fic. Okay? Okay.

---

Prologue

They were pretty sure they knew what awaited them when they got to Gray Mann's base. Or, Spy was sure, anyway. Mann was after the same Australium they were, and they'd be interrogated for what little they knew. And he wasn’t going to get that information out of them easily.

Spy’s tongue nudged one of his fake teeth. The time would come for that eventually.

His suspicions were confirmed when Demo, still distraught from the loss of Sniper, was dragged out by a couple of the enemy mercs, who snickered over the ways they could "make him talk."

That left him, Miss Pauling, Soldier, Zhanna, and Pyro, all of them chained up in a tiny room, waiting out their fate.

Well, until that thing entered.

It was the other team's pyro. Their Pyro perked up with an interested hum when it saw the other, only to jump—as much as it could with its feet chained to the floor—when the enemy pyro removed its face.

Spy had, admittedly, been caught off-guard, but rolled his eyes immediately after. This was not like their Pyro. This one was a human—a woman, her face scarred with old burns and one eye missing, her hair pepper gray with half her scalp scarred over. The fact that she was human had startled him more than any disfigurement could have.

Of course, he had to remind himself that his team was the exception, as always. They'd become so accustomed to the incredibly strange nature of their comrade that it felt eerie to actually see a human behind a similar mask.

Pyro must have felt the same, with the way it tilted its head with a hum of consternation.

The woman stared at it in turn. "Hm. This one seems promising."

Miss Pauling's head shot up, but Spy nudged her and subtly shook his head.

Unfortunately, Soldier was not on their wavelength. "That one? HAH! If you need a building burned to the ground, maybe! But Pyro doesn't talk!"

One of the woman's eyebrows raised in interest. "Really."

Spy shut his eyes, imagining himself flipping open his butterfly knife and driving it through Soldier's throat.

"Nope! It's completely incomprehensible! It can’t tell you anything! The rest of us won’t, either—we will not yield under torture, especially not me. Though I'd love to see you try!"

"Soldier, no!" Zhanna cried. "I must be tortured first!"

But the enemy pyro did not respond to them—likely still staring at their Pyro. "It doesn't, eh?" she said, putting a heavy emphasis on the pronoun. "Good. I like a challenge."

Seconds later, several robots filed into the room, immediately heading for Pyro and unlocking its shackles from the floor. Pyro mumbled something at them.

"Wait, no!" Soldier cried. "Pick me, pick me! I'm a good challenge!"

But the robots paid them no mind as they escorted Pyro out, and Spy cracked an eye open to see it showed no signs of worrying about what was about to happen. The door slammed shut, and he let out a sigh, tipping his head back. "Soldier, you are going to get us all killed."

"We're gonna die anyway!" Soldier protested. "We can at least go down fighting!"

"We are not going to go down fighting, you imbecile. We are—" He stopped himself there, deciding he didn't particularly want to reflect on their fates with someone who wasn't going to care anyway.

"Poor Pyro," Miss Pauling murmured. "What are they going to do to it?"

Spy shrugged. "Better it than us." He lowered his voice. "With luck, they'll waste several hours trying to get information out of it before they realize Soldier, idiot that he is, was more-or-less telling the truth. That may buy us some time."

"You think we can still get out of this?" she whispered, hope edging into her voice.

"Not likely. We're probably delaying the inevitable." His tongue nudged one of his molars.

"We'll have to hope.” Miss Pauling sighed, staring at the door. "I guess Demo or Pyro could break out."

Spy barely resisted the urge to snort. "The drunkard? Not likely. Pyro? Who knows."

"I still can't imagine what they would do to it."

Spy tipped his head back to regard the ceiling for a moment. "Who can say? Waterboarding, perhaps?” A random guess, and he snorted at the absurdity of it. “Though I struggle to imagine what could break that creature."

"Neither could the Administrator. That's one of the reasons she recruited it." Miss Pauling shook her head. "If that's the case, maybe it'll find a way to break out. And break us out of here."

"Unless it decides to burn down the whole base with us inside. Regardless, resisting torture and breaking free are two different things. But we shall see."

Soldier groaned. "But when's it gonna be my turn to get tortured for information?"

"Will be our turn soon," Zhanna reassured him.

Spy heaved a sigh, and Miss Pauling shut her eyes.

They sat in uncomfortable silence (save for Soldier and Zhanna's chatter) for some time, Spy keeping an eye on the door while Miss Pauling stared at the floor, lost in her own thoughts.

The minutes ticked on. For how long, Spy was uncertain—he couldn't reach his watch to read it, and the feeling of dread in the air was not helping with their perception of time. Next to him, Miss Pauling occasionally muttered to herself, and every so often he could pick up phrases.

"...and we could go back to Australia, and..."

"...if Scout or Heavy are still out there..."

"...and Sniper could... wait, no..."

Sighing, he almost considered tuning her out, but it was a good distraction from his nicotine cravings, at least.

At some point, she raised her head. "Where is it?"

Spy raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"

"Pyro. They've been keeping it for a long time."

"Yes. Demo has been gone for some time, too."

"Yeah, but... they can get information out of him." She turned to face him again, and an unspoken question hung in the air.

Spy returned her gaze. "Miss Pauling, if you are under the impression that we are in the hands of anyone other than violent sadists, I do not know what to tell you."

Before she could react, the door burst open.

“I VOLUNTEER!” Soldier cried, straining against his manacles.

But instead of their captors, Pyro stumbled into the room.

Spy would have hoped that it had indeed broken loose and come to rescue them had it not been for the fact that its hands were shackled behind its back.

The robots escorted Pyro to the end of the bench, where they shackled its feet to the floor. Meanwhile, the enemy pyro stepped into the room.

"Finally!" Soldier exclaimed. "You've had your turn, Pyro. Now it's mine!"

"Our turn," Zhanna corrected.

With an unfriendly smile, the woman turned to face them. "If you insist."

While the robots got to work escorting the two least intelligent people out of the room, Spy and Miss Pauling looked over their recently-returned companion. "Pyro?" Miss Pauling whispered. "You okay, buddy?"

Pyro said nothing, sitting still on the bench and facing forward.

"...Well, it looks okay, anyway." Miss Pauling shrugged. "Guess the Administrator was right."

"Hm." Spy's eyes narrowed as he continued to look Pyro over. While it was true that it looked more-or-less uninjured—the suit was a little roughed up, but that was it—he couldn't be too sure that it was unharmed. The enemy wouldn't have just done nothing with it, and the way Pyro did not answer them, nor even respond to its surroundings, was not encouraging.

Nor was the fact that it was trembling.

But before he could analyze Pyro's behavior any further, the doors burst open again, and this time a barely-coherent Demo was practically dragged into the room.

In the whirlwind of events that followed, the torture that their fellow mercs had endured was nearly all but forgotten.

But it would not stay that way.

[alpineshift]

reread your jealous!jack excerpt again and i have Thoughts.

That fuckass podcast host had been flirting with Nico. <- OOF! STRAIGHT TO JAIL! i know jack is clenching his jaw

A fourth rewatch of a forty-five minute long youtube clip in the same evening is probably a bit much, but neither Quinn nor Luke are currently around to witness this, so Jack does what he currently do with his limited mobility: seethe. <- i’m just imagining ellen, hearing the same podcast four times and deciding to ignore whatever her son is up to rn. small mercies.

Timo deadass looked into the camera at that exact moment. <- timo knows jack’s eye is going to start twitching

Nico had texted him earlier today that he was going to push their usual post-game facetime by a little bit <- AND FOR OLLIE? i know jack is planning something rn.

watched with an almost grim satisfaction as Nico hastened to walk that back. Good. <- cunty jack i will always love you

“and I'm proud of the boys for pulling it together for this win,"(…)"It's a team effort," Nico demures. "I may be the captain but it's a team sport. Everyone's hard work counts, even for those that can't physically make it onto the ice." <- he loves his boys so much😭 making me emotional on this fine friday morning?? jail.

"Jack gives the best hugs, that's for sure," Nico says warmly. "I'll have to wait 'till next season, but I'll be looking forward to them again. <- we all know he is not waiting until next season for that hug😈

He exits the livestream, switches out of his burner account, and goes right back to join in again as jackhughes <- the devs have a sign that says _ amount of days since last unhinged nicojack action and the 0 might as well be permanent

and Jack grins snarkily to himself as Oliver's smile drops a milimetr and his eyebrows go up in surprise. <- cunty jack cunty jack cunty jack cunty jack🥰

“Is that what I'm seeing? You guys aren't trolling me, right?" <- certified facebook mom does not know his bf joined the stream!

(a very sappy shot of him lounging on the ground playing with a tiny rescue puppy they'd done photoshoots with) <- they are so in love😭😭😭 i miss them so much!!!!!!

Jack, watching like a hawk on his iPad, doesn't miss a second of it, and there's a part of him that wonders if he's a bad guy for relishing in the complete and utter derailment of the livestream. <- “cunty possessive jack” the nation chants

to see the complete outpour of positive comments and faith in him. <- JACK😭 we all love and miss you so much!! i know he’s working his hardest right now

That was productive. <- oh my god. that was perfect. you write him so so well. cunty jack forever in my heart

I know you're playing dumb but I am not getting between the two of you weirdos. <- timo, probably: why am i always at the scene of the crime😭 get me out of here😭 (he loves his friends dearly but he did not sign up for this)

He'll get exactly what Nico offers to him, and not a section more. Because unlike Jack, he doesn't belong in the Devils' locker room, isn't an integral part of the team as a whole, isn't the most important person in Nico's life. <- MOST FAVOURITE DYNAMIC MYL YOU ARE AN ICON LIKE ALWAYSSSSS

i just love how you write jealous jack and jealous nico. nico’s all silent possessiveness (because he the youngest child) and jack’s is just so loud and obvious (middle child). perfect, no notes!

this is a message that keeps on making my day, I hope you know this. I've re-read it so many times at this point now and I'm so happy you enjoyed that quick fic! 🥹

(and now that the devils are in playoffs and Jack's still out and Nico is captaining the team all by his lonesome (jk, jk) what will Jack do next?? who else dares to put a hand on his man??) 👀

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 15/34 - nature/nurture

[Read on AO3]

Krista is a lovely young woman. In her second year at Georgetown, with plans to get a Master's and a PhD after her undergraduate studies, having a child really isn't in the cards right now, nor would she be able to financially sustain the situation in a few years time. 

It turns out, the previous couple she'd selected ended up getting pregnant themselves and had to back out, which was just an added stressor for Krista who was trying to focus on her studies, knowing finals season would be approaching sooner than later.

Mulder and Scully are more than willing to step in, and by all accounts, their meeting with her went… well.

Really well, honestly.

Scully had bonded with her over their shared Alma Mater, and even happened to have taken the same introductory physics class as her with an ancient professor who is somehow still teaching after all these years.

Mulder, on the other hand, shares her interest in sports. It seems Krista had been quite the track and field athlete in her high school years, and also won State as the pitcher for her varsity softball team her senior year. 

They left the meeting feeling beyond hopeful, something they were unaccustomed to but were slowly beginning to come to terms with, finally.

“I think she really liked us, Scully!” Mulder says, glancing at her excitedly from the driver's seat of the car on their way home. “Can you imagine? If this works out, in less than six months, we'll be parents!”

“It's a scary thought, isn't it?” Scully asks, unable to suppress her own smile.

Scary, and about a million other things, Mulder thinks.

“The good kind of scary,” he says decidedly, and he delights when she nods in agreement, setting aside her skepticism for a moment.

“Yes.”

The drive back to their apartment goes quickly. The place near campus where they'd met up for lunch isn't far from her building at all, and if it had been a little warmer out, they might have even walked. Mulder puts the car in park and circles the vehicle, holding out his hand for Scully after she closes the passenger door, and her hand slides easily into his.

This is something they do now—holding hands. At some point in this process, the occasional gesture of comfort had turned to a casual, almost everyday thing, and Mulder isn't going to complain.

Maybe it was the need to keep up appearances as a married couple that made them do it. After all, in certain areas of their lives now, it's expected. With the adoption agency, with the birth mother… Their relationship, while close, is not one that fits into the mold of the wider public. It's easier to express it in this way for the benefit of others, rather than their usual way of showing affection.

On the other hand, maybe something between them really had shifted. He wouldn't soon forget how Scully had leaned on him, both literally and figuratively, after Pfaster. A year ago, he's not sure she would have trusted him like that, and in hindsight, she was right not to. He hadn't yet earned her trust back, and he'd regret ever breaking it in the first place for the rest of his life.

But she trusts him now. She lets him hold her and care for her and believe in her—believe for her—like he's always tried to do.

He will always consider standing by her side to be one of his greatest accomplishments in life. More than anything he has gained from his time on the X-Files, he has gained a friend. Someone who truly understands him.

He doesn't know what he could have done to deserve her. 

Maybe he will always battle these feelings of unworthiness, thinking he could never be enough for her, but it's far too late for him to let go now. Losing her would end him. It's why he had been hesitant to accept her proposal to try IVF in the first place. Every curveball life throws at him is just another thing that could potentially rip their relationship apart. He tries his best to keep those “surprises” to a minimum, but every so often, the opportunity presented is too good to pass up.

Sometimes, he has found, it's worth the risk.

He hopes it will be, in this case. They're so close to achieving what she—they— have longed for for so long, but there's still room for error.

The best he can do is keep moving forward. Stay the course, and pray for fair seas up ahead.

He thinks her father might appreciate his sailing analogy, but then again, he probably would have hated him regardless of his use of sea-based figurative language.

In the hallway, an older woman smiles at the two of them, and Mulder forces a polite smile back at her. He knows what her neighbors must think. They've seen him around for years, and he's even met a few of them in passing. But now he lives here, and his name is even on her mailbox next to hers. There's not much he could say to dissuade their gossiping at this point.

Scully opens the door, turning on a few lights as they shed their coats and put them away. The adrenaline that had fueled them before in what was possibly the most important meeting of their lives has left them exhausted, and he happily follows Scully toward the couch in the living room.

A lazy day is just what they need. Things are out of their hands now. After weeks—months —of preparation, they have done all they can. Now, all there is to do is wait.

It's almost routine, at this point, when they share a couch. Scully curls up under a blanket, her head against a throw pillow, while Mulder fishes the TV remote out of whatever crevice he inevitably left it in last time. He has to move her feet a little to sit down, but as soon as he's situated, he lets her rest them up against his leg.

She's somehow always freezing, but he doesn't mind.

He sets a Knicks game on the screen at a low volume and leans back, his head lolling against the backrest.

There’s something about staring at the swirling patterns on the ceiling that lends itself to deep contemplation. The muffled sound of the TV does too, but maybe that's just a him thing. He closes his eyes, thinking through the day's events. Thinking of the future.

“I feel for anyone in her position,” he says, the thought escaping him and breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen. He can sense Scully is still awake though, so he continues. “It can't be easy to give up your own child, especially when the circumstances are out of your hands. But, in this case…” 

He's thought of this a lot, lately. About how one person's misfortune may well be another’s salvation. It's a hard dichotomy to grasp.

“Well, it's a good thing for us, anyway,” he finishes, placing a hand over Scully's ankle. “We might actually get a chance to do this.”

“I hope so,” she murmurs into her pillow.

He opens his eyes, glancing down at her in her restful state.

“We will. I have a good feeling,” he says with all the confidence he can muster. It feels odd, this hope, but it's as real and true to him as the love he carries for his partner. “Wow, it's been a while since I've said those words.”

She breathes out an amused chuckle, curling further into the cushions before she responds.

“For once, I'm inclined to believe you.”

His lips curl in a smile and he playfully tickles her foot. 

“I've never been so happy to hear you say that, Scully.”

He knows he should let her sleep, but there are just too many thoughts running through his head that he can't restrain himself. There's a whole world of possibilities about to open up for them. It's exciting and terrifying all at once, and she knows he’s a compulsive talker in those kinds of situations.

He's thankful that she hasn't grown tired of him already and moved to her bedroom to take a nap instead. If they were really husband and wife, that wouldn't stop him. He'd still be able to talk her ear off all night long if he wanted, or until she kicked him out on the couch.

“I can tell you want to say something,” Scully says knowingly, smirking up at him out the corner of her eye.

She knows him so well.

“You think I could coach little league?” he asks, speaking his thoughts aloud. “I mean, I know the kid’s still like the size of a banana, but in a few years’ time—”

“I think that's a great idea.” She turns slightly, adjusting her position so she can see his face properly, and the ridiculousness of his own question causes his cheeks to redden. But Scully takes him seriously. She always does. That's what makes her different from everybody else.

“We have a lot in common with her, you know,” he says, his fingertips massaging unconsciously into her lower calves. “With Krista. Brainy and athletic, all rolled into one. It'll be like having our own little über Mulder-Scully.”

“Don't make me start a nature versus nurture argument with you,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“I'm a psychologist, Scully. I could make a pretty strong case either way.”

She smiles, shaking her head in what he likes to think can be called fond annoyance. They fall silent, eyes locked in a gaze so heavy that he starts to feel a little drunk. The way she mesmerizes him might be worthy of opening an X-File someday. Just to investigate.

“We might have just met our baby, Mulder. Isn't that crazy?” she says, shifting the conversation suddenly in a more serious direction. There's awe in her voice, and he feels it too. “To have been within five feet of this person we'll know and love for the rest of our lives?”

It isn't like Scully to be so optimistic. She's always lived her life believing that to speak your deepest desires aloud is to make yourself vulnerable. Part of him is surprised that she's not being more cautious now with getting her hopes up, but seeing her this way?

He likes it. He likes it a lot.

Maybe he's finally rubbing off on her.

Her arm pops out of her blanket and she reaches for him, drawn to him like a magnet. He happily entwines his fingers with hers, his thumb stroking over the back of her hand.

“I can't wait, Scully.”

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

[imtrashraccoon]

Consider this... The Nightmare of Apathy but Dreamswap

I'm kinda experiencing brainrot over Helios and Eos at the moment...

Dream is the one who rules over a world that is permanently day where everyone is happy and adores him. I imagine there would be sun worship but it's morphed into worshipping the deity that literally glows and makes everyone's life better.

Plant life flourishes and the climate is always comfortably warm. I don't think animal life would be much different with permanent sunlight but I'm not going to be putting thought into this right now lol.

Somehow, MC (probably named something vaguely related to the sun to have a nice parallel) meets Dream. Not sure how or why but it would either be transactional or a coincidence. Or maybe they have a "dark opposite" soul and Dream wants to "fix" them.

Dream and Nightmare still quarrel over the multiverse, although Dream has more influence thanks to time and positivity being easier to spread. Nightmare is gaining ground though which is rather concerning to Dream.

Nightmare forms his own team, not sure if it'd be the usual rabble or others. Without spoiling possible future plot points for TNA, there is a conflict between the brothers that leads Dream to forming his team. Again, possibly the usual rabble but it could be interesting if he "converts" bad guys to his cause.

I could go on but I will end up spoiling the finale to my fic... ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ

Or maybe it's like how Swapfell and Fellswap are similar but different? (Swapdream?)

Same premise as above, but Aylin is on Nightmare's side the whole time. ("Dark opposite" soul again?) I think this would be more like a desperate rebellion against a vast empire, except the rebels are technically the bad guys. So lots of angst and action scenes where they barely get out alive?

Aylin would meet Nightmare on more normal terms. He isn't a domineering lord but a pathetic outcast, hated by everyone because he only brings negativity when he's around. Or maybe his world is the one place his brother can't "taint" and while he's not loved by the populace, they understand all would be lost if he wasn't trying to maintain the balance. Maybe the economy is hyper focused on production for war efforts?

They'd get into a relationship much more quickly, especially after saving each other's lives a couple of times. Nightmare teaches her to fight, use magic, and possibly other skills he learned too. In turn, she teaches him what she knows as a herbalist and creates many valuable tonics and potions for conflict.

They pick up friends along the desperate, uphill, in the rain battle that is trying to re-establish emotional balance in the multiverse. Could be the usual rabble, although they'd probably have to rescue them from Dream's clutches first. Not sure if the boys would be more or less insane, especially if Dream was forcing them to be positive through magic.

The duo aren't loved by the majority of the multiverse and would likely run into many powerful players. Or maybe Dream hires bounty hunters to go after them. (Fresh might make sense here as he isn't a good guy and probably wouldn't appreciate Dream.)

The potential for a "happy" ending is very low and something drastic would have to occur for that to even happen. I would explain what but again, I'd literally spoil everything for TNA...

I think I like this idea much more than the previous one... (⁠-⁠_⁠-⁠;⁠)

[thedreamsofgalaxies]

Since my earlier professor jayvik rant has been living in my head for few days, I just wanna share how I view they'd act as professors.

Viktor is very kind to his students and helps them out the best he can. He answers questions patiently and falls into long rants because of small innocent questions. He tries to do his best to make the students actually understand the subject, encourage them, and give them opportunities to shine.

However, Vik would be awful at actually understanding how other people think. Even though he thinks he's helping, a lot of the time he just makes everything more confusing. But those bright enough to get him, would love him. Viktor would not know what to do with lazy students or those who don't care about the subject, so he just ignores their existence. Maybe at the beginning of his career he tried to ask them if he can help them in some way, but soon realized talking to them is beyond his area of expertise, and let them be.

He isn't social at all and he doesn't like lecturing; lecturing would be a mandatory evil he has to endure in order to stay employed. He likes the one-on-one sessions with the students he helps, but he doesn't feel comfortable with an audience. His lectures are strickly to the point and quite boring for those who are not already inspired. Lectures are moslty a lot of theory and no practice.

Jayce on the other hand, is all practice and little theory. He does his best to get people to care about his subject and always demonstrates things when he can. He's all bravo and amazes the students with his brillanse on daily basis. Jayce treats the lecture hall as his stage and is always ready to totally bewilder everyone. Mind you: not with his personal drama but actual science! Jayce plans his lectures to the tee and gets ready for them early. He is really proud of the reputation he's gathered around the Uni.

From his students, he appreciates ideas and imagination more than technical knowledge. He encourages them to think out side the box and always try new things, even if it would result in failure. He gives more points to students whose essays have more original deliberation rather than students with good grasp on facts and theory but no insights.

As co-workers and academics, they are also very different from each other. I suppose this part would follow the Arcane quite literally, though. Jayce is the one who knows all the faculty and is always pulled to mingle with people, even if he'd rather just do his research. The research, he is really truly passionate about, and knows it will be noticed and well-received in the academic circles. While Viktor is happy to hide way in his lab and let his curiosity run free with no pressure to socialize. He doesn't really care for the glory of academic recognition, he just does it purely out of his own interest.

They disagree about each other's teaching methods, but they still respect each other and the results. Of course Jayce is most comfortable and most himself while his in the lab with Viktor. All the show and social smiles he puts up all day tend to get to him, but with Viktor he can just let all his masks down. Vik teases him about it, but never in a hurtful way and Jayce answers to the same measure. Because guess what, that's how actual banter works (looking at some of you fic writers).

They have the most heated academic debates which spread out for weeks. It's never obvious outright fighting but subtly leaving research papers on each others' desks while bringing them a new cup of coffee. Jayce is more verbally argumentative though, while Viktor more passive aggressive, but the debates are never personal and always respectful. They often end up blowing up the lab with questionable experiments just to prove a point.

They'd make a perfect team.

[darryscrow]

this is a yap about parry i made like a few days ago

parry………….

at the rumble when darry first saw paul come up, in the book- "Something flickered behind Darry's eyes and then they were ice again." This could just be a sign of recognition but i feel like it was more like a shock- seeing him again after years and in the MUSICIAL (i didnt see it sadly but) Paul asks him if he still has the shirt paul gave him, and that he looked good in it . As much as someone will say "oh friends just say that to each other" I'll never listen because these are men from the SIXTIES and def did not compliment each other that often!!!

They have history and i will forever imagine it as exs- and maybe toxic because of their dynamics/ upbringings. Darry always having to work for what he has- and paul, who probably never lifted a finger for much. Darry would've put in so much effort for paul, afriad paul would realise he's better than darry. He'd be ashamed of his neighbourhood, his brothers and friends (who are more greaser-like than him, because they dont buddy around socs like he does).

Obviously paul must've liked him too, i doubt he'd be crazy enough to mess around with boys like that during this time, seeing how it could've gotten either of them killed. I feel like paul wouldn't put in nearly as much effort in their relationship, doing the same things he'd do with a girl- maybe even less with internalised homophobia- which means darry would be treated like shit, paul jus grew up being able to toss away anything at any time and that would dangle above darry's head when he'd think about paul's girls that he'd dropped without a second though…

They were both on the football team……. and if they were together, those team showers would be awkward for them, seeing how they'd find it hard to rip their eyes from each other's bodies. But they'd also feel so proud of each other after the other does a good play, and maybe run off to be able to congradulate each other without peering eyes?

They'd still have girlfriends. if they didn't, it'd be weird- seeing how they're both part of the football team and good looking. Darry would probably keep one and keep enough effort to make it seem like love while paul would go from girl to girl without a care- it'd be easier for him too, seeing how he has money.

Darry truly loved Paul, and Paul just loved Darry. University is probably what broke them off; Paul was excited to go to the same university as Darry until he breaks the news that he can't afford it. Paul maybe sneakily tries to tell him he can help- but darry refuses, wanting to work for it himself (he'd feel guilty taking it, he always had to work for what he wants.) Paul is annoyed and snaps- takes it as darry seeing himself as better than paul- slaving away on roofs for some stupid education with his run down home and dirty family. Darry can't take it, and calls him the spoiled bitch he might be and breaks it off,

they end horribly, and even if darry got the last word- paul still feels smug about being in uni at the rumble. Darry's more worn out and tired- yet more worked out than ever when he notices him. Paul takes him on, sneaking a punch when darry looks away because he knows how good darry is at fighting- sneaking is probably the only way he could've gotten a first punch in- solidifying his position above darry (even if he runs away later, no one remembers the rumble and socs will always be on top..)

they will never end off on a good note, and if they were to meet in the future again, paul would always see himself as better than darry (Darry refuses help and will always be working for everything until he dies- of course I'm better, just see how scuffed his shoes are compared to mine.)- and vice versa (paul never earned his money, somehow feels better than everyone else because of it.- he'll never know true work like i do, I'm better.)

[applesjuice]

How are the others taking Kieran's death ? Won't they think there's something fishy ? (Legends AU)

I'm SCREAMING this is the first ask I've gotten in ten whole years and it's about KIERAN 🤣

Putting beneath a read more because this got stupid long...

But real talk, Carmine would be taking it the hardest she'd be a mess for a while. In my mind the plot of LA takes places over about two years to complete the pokedex, so by then she'd have graduated school, and is trying to redefine who she is since so much of her identity was tied into being a big sister. She'd be antagonistic towards Briar for a while, blaming her for bringing them down there in the first place. But I like to think Carmine comes to understand that adults are not perfect after the fallout that comes to Briar and the Paladean Pokemon League as a result of a minor dying on a sponsored exception.

Briar I think would write her book but she'd have fallen out of favor in the academic world due to her irresponsibility. She'd face harsh criticism from the public and the guilt she'd feel would be tremendous because Kieran, despite being a little shit at the time, was a child. I like to believe two years later she's really struggling with her career, getting denied grants and project funding, having her papers get denied by academic journals. She's a mess.

Geeta and the Paladean Pokemon League would face harsh scrutiny over allowing this specific expedtion to occur. For years they refused to allow expeditions down in Area Zero due to a lack of strong enough, accredited (re: champion level) trainers who were not bogged down by workload. Its a media shitstorm. A research team with only three children as the safety trainers? Yes one of them is a certified Champion of their league but they are still a child with only a few months experience, and the other two were strong trainers in their own right but not accredited under Paladean standards. There wasnt enough prep or vetting. Geeta would as a result step down as chairwoman due to the backlash. Atm there is no top champion so if someone beats the elite 4 there's a hold on becoming a champion level trainer while Nemona is being trained for the position.

Now the BB Academy Elite 4, they're shook. Drayton takes it the hardest because he turned down going, so he's like "what if I was there what if there was one more trainer could I have prevented this". The other 3 did see Kieran as a friend, despite his recent behavior. Before that he was Carmine's little brother, and Crispin and him were pretty friendly too, what with being in the same grade. Yeah the kid was a bully but imagine coming to school one day and there's an announcement one of your clasmates died. Thats traumatic!

Now, the protagonist. Oh boy. Regardless of if they're Juliana or Florian, they'd be pretty traumatized. They considered Kieran a friend. At one point they loved his company, he was so kind and sweet and they already blamed themselves a bit for the whole Ogerpon situation. Yeah Kieran took it to the extreme with his reaction, but I find Kieran a really interesting character with how the game wrote him. He's a child, was lied to by the people closest with him, and he doesnt seem the type to easily connect with others. But the one time he finally finds someone he connects with, we continuously and unrelentlessly crush him at something he enjoys, join his family in treating him like he has no agency by hiding the truth of his special interest from him, and go out of our way to disinclude him with his sister.

And like of course Ogerpon got close to us we spent so much time with her, getting her to trust us and know us. I see this take a lot that Kieran just wants to enslave legendaries but thats definitely not it. He's trying to get back at us. We took something special from him, and he never really had the chance to put in his bid for Ogerpon's attention and he knew it was selfish, but he cared so much for her as someone that was always disincluded, bullied, looked down on by others, and he had to at least try because Ogerpon to him, is a projection of himself. He had to TRY even if as he stated, he knew it was wrong.

And then we take his spot as Champion from him that he like, harmed himself and those around him for so he could at least have *something* that put him on the same level as you. Like we as the protagonist are the villain of Kieran's story (sorry for the tangent I swear it's relevant), but he's 14 and had a mental breakdown. And he got killed before we could reconcile or get through to him.

I think the protagonist would do a lot of soul searching because their first thought is "i should have taken the blast." Or "i could have stopped it" and then they had the humbling realization of "what could i even have done? We're the same age. That could have been me, i could have died" because even if the protagonist would never like, try to catch Terapagos immediately with a Masterball, its still a wild and untrained monster with too much power. There's no telling what would have happened if Kieran wasn't there. It'd incredibly eye opening and humbling and I think they'd strive to be a better more understanding person from this. The whole game people are hyping them up, telling them theyre so strong, they're the best, etc. Thats gotta give you a bit of a big head. I think they'd look to the adults they can trust, their mom, their teachers who are genuinely amazing people, and lean on them for support.

And when Kieran gets back and kind of has no idea who they are, and here's that sweet kid they remember with all of his love for pokemon and battling, except he's so much healthier and confident about it (and traumatized in different ways thanks Kamado and Volo). They'd probably be so amazed by him and thankful for this second chance.

Tldr: i should probably just write a fic for this it got stupid long...

[livelybook]

I always see people say well, if Alicent had just married Helaena to Jace, the war would never have happened. And it's like the war would have absolutely happened, its akin to the waves ever falling onto the shore, its inevitable and unstoppable, all that marriage would have done was put a bandaid on a wound for a little while before everything would just explode.

I don't think there would have been any situation where Alicient would have agreed to that. If Helaena did marry Jace, she and any children born would have been used as a hostage during the war and worse than that, she would have been stuck in Dragonstone with a group of the most volatile people who despise her side of the family, what would have Rhaenrya or Daemon have done to her, an easy within reach target when Lucerys died? Would Jace even be kind to her once his brother dies?

Or let's say that the marriage had gone through and Alicient manages to make Heleana stay in Kingslanding along with the Black team and for a little while, everyone would be in an uneasy peace, forced to get along under Viserys eye and then the Black team would want something done & the Green team would need to agree for it to happen(and this something would undoubtedly not be in favour of the Greens) or if the Green team was perceived as disrepectful whether directly as one of the members doing something(an incident with the boys or Otto secretly scheming or Alicient doing her queen duties, I can just imagine Daemon seething in the background like how dare she command while in the castle of the Targaryens) or someone implying that the Green team would be better and it getting back to the Black team, they would have immediately implied a subtle threat regarding Helaena and declared their authority as the to be Queen party(well, as subtle as a hammer on an unruly nail could be) and any slight disbelieving hopes that this arrangement could actually work would be dashed and the Green team would be furious and unable to do anything about the Black team, and the moment Viserys dies, that's it for them.

And If they had managed to secure the city, the same as the show and had Helaena & any of her children as well, they'd be using them as a hostage against the Black Team too and at least with them, she'd be better treated.

And continuing with what about if Helaena had children? She'd be known to have had children with a widely suspected bastard leading to a shaky line and Daemon is right there with his two targaryen looking boys, there is no way he or even those boys or their later children would have left her and her children alone. If she had married Jace, she'd basically be terribly screwed over twice in succesion crisis in her lifetime.

Also, if Jace had married Helaena, what about Baela? Now, I really don't think Corlys would have let it go when he's been promised a Velaryon queen on the throne and has gotten so close to it after all the other times, just to only have a bastard prince. So that's basically 2 main people besides Otto in Helaena's family who would be eyeing her and her children.

Let's not forgot ofcourse, What about her brothers with their future childrens and their claims, the relationship would never be the same and I doubt that something would not be done about her children too if they were to manage win.

What kind of life would that be to be taken away from your family and placed with people who will be actively to passively hostile to you? To know your relationship with all your family side will forever be altered, that your mother wouldn't choose you and your line over your brother and you & all your children will be in danger from everyone for a very long time?