#if they aren’t gonna give everyone at least a few solid moments to shine then just do like DA2 and have a single type of PC

[7classyantiquestores]

I made the (possibly questionable, considering proximity to the Elden Ring DLC) decision to start playing through Inquisition again, just to get my memory refreshed before Veilguard comes out (further questionable because I rarely buy games on launch anyways but whatever lol).

Long and the short of it, I decided to just focus on the main story this time (instead of clearing the majority of the side content like my first time), and I am stunned how much better the story and overall experience is. Like, there is so much bloat in this game that could have been cut out, leaving more time and budget for the core game.

It’s a pretty transformative experience, because I borderline hated this game the first time. I pressed to the end, because I’m completionist to a fault, but I found myself entirely unable to understand what people liked about it. The story felt stale and scattered, the main quests felt like an afterthought (and were often too easy due to my being overlevel), and the bulk of work (ie side quests) my Inquisitor did was boring, repetitive, and poorly justified within the context of the story.

But by ignoring any quest that the main plot doesn’t put me in the direct path of, I’m actually kind of getting it this time, which is crazy to me. I also played a character that was more tailored to the story (a human Faithful rather than a diplomatic but ultimately agnostic dwarf), which is also helping. I think they clearly had a kind of story they wanted to tell, but nearly destroyed it (to my eyes anyways) by weighing it down it with unnecessary extra content. But there’s some really good stuff in there, if you sweep away all the bloat. It’s still not a perfect game, of course. But no game is perfect, and I do really think the things I have gripes with would have been given a bit more love if the team didn’t be stuck with the impossible task of turning a tight story-driven tactics-based RPG into a huge open-world action RPG. I really hope that BioWare learns from this (and from their stumbles with Andromeda and Anthem, not to mention), and return to form with Veilguard. Tight, focused, narrative-driven RPG. Not being everything to everyone, just doing a couple things very well. This is what BioWare has always been good at, and above everything else (including my precious logic-based tactics system lol), that’s what I hope to see them do in Veilguard.

TLDR; if you ever bounced off Inquisition but feel the urge to try again with the approaching release of Veilguard, I recommend giving it a shot, with the following advice: 1) Ignore everything in the game that didn’t come up along the path of a main quest, unless it actually sound narratively significant (sorry farmer with the missing druffalo, I’ve got a world to save). 2) Beyond that, I advise trying a human or elf PC, and be either Faithful (meaning to believe in Andraste, not necessarily fully embracing the Herald title if you don’t want to) or else be really into the Dalish stuff (mainly if you’re an elf). That’ll make your character actually feel meaningfully integrated in the main story. It’s made a big difference for me, anyways.

[stealingpotatoes]

I am OBSESSED with your Desmond lives AU!! I want Shaun and Rebecca to be able to give Desmond all the hugs, I want Desmond to be able to choose to be an Assassin, to be able to help save the world again. Also, I am very curious about how you would resurrect Desmond, because I’ve had similar thoughts on such an AU, but I currently stick it near the end of Valhalla with the stuff that happens there. If you ever feel like expanding on it, I'd be super excited to see more!!!

first of all, AH THANK YOU!!! Yes those are ALL points that are very important to the Des Lives AU! Second of all, thank you so much for this ask in general!!! I was hoping someone would send an ask like this so I’d get an excuse to talk abt the AU more lmao XD!! I made this AU back in March last year, so there’s no Valhalla stuff in it, and it’s set right after/ during the Odyssey DLCs. 

The long story short for my Desmond Rez (rezmond, if you will) is “shroud of eden, abstergo, and some Isu bullshit”. The long story long, however, is uh- you know what? I’m going to use this opportunity to explain the vague story I worked out last year -- but dw, I WILL get to the full ressurection explanation I thought through. However... I’m gonna have to tell the story in smaller parts because I’m lazy and can’t be bothered to write the whole thing out right now. So rez comes later and not in this post. 

also uh-- before we start: I’m going to apologise for like… everything about the way I wrote this. It’s sort-of half fic, half that-way-your-friends-colloquially-tell-stories-that-you-can’t-keep-up-with. Mainly the latter. If you can make sense of this babbling, well done.

 Anyways, without further ado, welcome to:

POTES TRIES TO EXPLAIN HER DESMOND (SORTA) LIVES AU: PART ONE

On the 21st of December 2012, Desmond Miles dies. 

It’s not for nothing -- his sacrifice saves the entire world from a solar flare -- but he is dead. big ripz. The Assassins, his family, do not manage to recover his body. Abstergo gets it first. The Assassins hold a funeral as best they can. They mourn (all in their own ways), they keep fighting (for his memory), and they try to move on (they can’t). 

On the 21st of December 2012, Desmond Miles died -- so when he shows up in a city in October 2018, almost 6 years later, it’s a bit of a shock for everyone. What’s even more of a shock is the fact he’s glowing like an Isu and has some abilities he DEFINITELY didn’t have when he died.

So Desmond wakes up in the middle of some city in he doesn’t know where (yeah ok i just never really worked out where the secret lab would be), with 1. no idea of how he got there and 2. no idea why his arms are glowing like that. He doesn’t get much time to think about it because then there’re a load of Abstergo goons with guns surrounding him. Des may have no idea what’s happening, but he knows one thing: when u see an Abstergo, it’s on sight. So he’s fighting them -- which is admittedly not fun or easy when you’re in the middle of a road and only have your fists as weapons. It’s not going well and then someone definitely manages to shoot Desmond which is very bad -- but then Des feels some very weird (but not unfamiliar) feeling and when he looks up from the bullet wound, every one of the Abstergos are on the floor???? He doesn’t think to check if they’re dead, just legs it out of there lmao. 

//

Elsewhere, in an Assassin safehouse in an undisclosed location (can you tell I just didn’t think about the geography of anything), Mr Shaun Hastings is chilling on a balcony after a mission well done. Good for him. Then Rebecca Crane (queen ilu) yells “Shaun?” from inside. 

“Rebecca?” 

“Come inside. Now.”

Shaun immediately does so because he assumes it’s important or they’re under threat. “What happened? Have we been compromised?”

Rebecca doesn’t answer. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Shaun says, mostly joking and with a little smirk -- though Becs looks spooked. 

“Desmond’s alive.”

Shaun’s not smirking anymore. “What?”

“Desmond’s... he’s alive.”

“What are you talking about? Are you high?” he’s totally about to look at her eyes to see if they’re all dilated and druggy. 

“No Shaun, I mean it!” Becs harshly shoves her tablet into his hands. 

Shaun doesn’t really know what he’s expecting to see when he looks down at the screen. What he’s not really expecting to see is Desmond Miles, who’s been dead for six years, fighting a load of Abstergo people -- while lined in Isu markings (also he’s not wearing a shirt forgot got to mention). ??? But wtf??!?! Desmond’s dead. That’s...

“It’s security camera footage from [the city]... About two hours ago.” Rebecca then swipes through more footage with shaky hands and explains that Des very violently burst out of an Abstergo facility in the city with glowing eyes and light leaking out of him (almost like an Apple of Eden). Then the glowing eyes and shining lights shuts off abruptly and Des is standing in the middle of the road looking very confused at his precursor-ass arms and chest. But Shaun is barely listening to what she’s saying and barely even looking at the screen. 

“Where did you get this?” Shaun asks with a hollow voice, not looking up. 

“The Initiates.” (bc who else)

Shaun looks at it again, then at Rebecca, and he’s mildly aware of the fact he’s slightly tearing up; “That’s fake. That can’t be him. He’s dead, Becs. We both saw the…” They both saw the autopsy footage the ac4 researcher got from Abstergo -- or at least, tried to watch it; they shut it off as soon as Shaun ran to the bathroom to throw up and Rebecca quickly joined him. They spent the rest of that night crying and drinking way too much. 

“He died.” Shaun concludes firmly. 

And so Becs is all like “yeah but what if he didn’t?? We need to find him. We need to investigate this.” There’s a determination in her eyes and Shaun knows he’s not going to be able to convince her to drop this -- not that he would. Desmond might be alive, and there is no way they’re going to leave him again. 

They’re both standing there in pure shock and confusion, not saying anything. 

Rebecca’s comm device lights up and starts buzzing, snapping them out of their general ????-ness. Becs goes to her desk to grab it, glances at the caller id and then shows it to Shaun. It’s William Miles. 

The two of them share a Look. They know what he’s calling about -- what else would it be? There’s a stilted moment of neither of them doing anything before Rebecca finally accepts the call. “William?” 

“How quickly can you and Shaun get to [city]?” William sounds shaken -- probably the same way Rebecca and Shaun are -- which is a very weird way to hear the Mentor of the Brotherhood sound. He’s seen the footage, hasn’t he? 

“In a few hours,” Rebecca replies. 

“Good. You need to get there as soon as possible.” 

Everyone’s silent for a few moments. 

“Is this about Desmond?” Rebecca asks. Dumb question. 

There’s a pause. “You’ll be briefed on the ground.” And then he hangs up before Shaun or Rebecca can yell at him.

This is all moving very fast. Shaun and Rebecca share another look. Guess they’re going to [city].  ???

// 

Fast forward several hours and Rebecca and Shaun are in The City [might just have to make the city london bc it’s the one city i actually know well -- however for plot reasons we’ll see later, a swiss city might be better… moving on!]. They get to an assassin base and meet up with Galina Voronina and 2 local assassins. Idk if you’ve read the comics, but to sum things up quickly, Galina and her team were investigating and then ended Project Phoenix -- so Galina now really wants to find out if the whole Desmond thing has anything to do with that. 

Galina also wants to help Shaun and Rebecca get their friend back. They’re her friends, but equally she just lost one of her teammates to Abstergo (while ending Phoenix like 2 months ago, in the comics) and is uh- idk how to say it but she wants to help Shaun & Becs who have a chance to get their lost teammate back.

What follows is cool gang-gang trying to track down any trace of Desmond. You’d think it wouldn’t be hard to find a person who literally glows, but Desmond’s had centuries of Assassin training and knows how to hide lol.. which is making the Assassins’ job harder lol. 

What’s making it even harder is the Assassins know they have to be quick because they know Abstergo is gonna be looking for Desmond too -- and they have way more resources and stuff. That being said, they’re also currently dealing with the fact one of their building and a decent amount of their guards just got absolutely mullered by weird-glowing-desmond. 

The third issue with their entire thing is that they have no idea what they’re going to find when they find Desmond -- or if he even is Desmond. Is he going to be the man they knew but with weird powers? an Abstergo isu-clone? evil? they don’t know, and so they know they’ve got to be wary with him. 

The Assassin gang spend some time (a couple of days at the very most) trying to track Desmond down. Rebecca is using all the tech she can get her hacker mitts on to find a trace of him and equally throw Abstergo off Des’ trail. 

Soon enough, they get a solid lead -- don’t ask for the specifics, i don’t know them. But they get a lead, and it winds them up in an abandoned apartment building or also abandoned building site or something (a building in the city where there aren’t any people, basically). 

Galina scans the place with Eagle Vision and she’s like “There is something very strange about this place.” (someone?) But she doesn’t see a person-shape anywhere. The 5 of them are hopeful but somewhat on edge. 

They go about searching for any sign of Desmond. Galina’s pretty sure her Eagle Vision is just… Messing Up A Lot lol. Like something’s trying to heck with it. So she’s not quite sure it’s working correctly when a load of red figures appear somewhere below them. 

She becomes a lot more sure when the red figures come into sight and START SHOOTING AT THEM! IT’S ABSTERGO!! CRAP! they found them!!

The assassins get down and a really cool fight scene w them vs the Abstergos in the building/ building site starts playing out. Woo Shaun and Rebecca electro-hidden-blade moments!! The fight splits the squad up and Shaun and Rebecca are away from Galina & the others -- but they dispatch the Abstergo guards near them.

They’re about to radio in that they’re all okay/ check if Galina & co are also good when they hear a slightly-too-loud footstep. They whip around to see an Abstergo guard aiming right at them, too far for either of them to get him before he shoots them. crap crap crap.

They would have been shot -- if someone hadn’t come up behind the Abstergo guard and snapped his neck (ouch). 

The Abstergo drops to the ground, revealing the person who saved them and… Shaun and Rebecca stare in shock. 

They’re both looking at Desmond Miles. 

Desmond Miles, who is very much alive (and wearing a hoodie that is 100% stolen). And… with a load of glowing yellow lines on his face. But it’s Desmond -- it’s Desmond for sure. Holy shit.  

Desmond doesn’t seem so shocked, only relieved to see them. Then his expression turns into serious confusion; 

“What the fuck is happening?”

///

ok sorry leaving it there for now! hope you enjoyed what is here will continue soon

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About Loki (Season One)

(Sorry this is later than it should have been. I may or may not be experiencing burnout from reviewing every episode of the gayest show Disney has ever produced)

Salutations, random people on the internet. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

Do you want to know what's fun about the Marvel Cinematic Universe? It is now officially at the point where the writers can do whatever the hell they want.

A TV series about two Avengers getting stuck in a series of sitcoms as one of them explores their personal grief? Sure.

Another series as a guy with metal bird wings fights the inner racism of his nation to take the mantel of representing the idea of what that nation should be? Why not?

A forgettable movie about a superspy and her much more mildly entertaining pretend family working together to kill the Godfather? F**king go for it (Let that be a taste for my Black Widow review in October)!

There is no limit to what you can get with these movies and shows anymore, and I personally consider that a good thing. It allows this franchise to lean further into creative insanity, thus embracing its comic roots in the process. Take Loki, for example. It is a series about an alternate version of one of Marvel's best villains bouncing around the timeline with Owen Wilson to prevent the end of the universe. It sounds like just the right amount of wackiness that it should be too good to fail.

But that's today's question: Did it fail? To find out my own answer to that, we're gonna have to dive deep into spoilers. So be wary as you continue reading.

With that said, let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Loki Himself: Let's get this out of the way: This isn't the same Loki we've seen grow within five movies. The Loki in this series, while similar in many ways, is still his very own character. He goes through his own redemption and developments that fleshes out Loki, all through ways that, if I'm being honest with you, is done much better in six-hour-long episodes than in past films. Loki's story was already entertaining, but he didn't really grow that much aside from being this chaotic neutral character instead of this wickedly evil supervillain. Through his series, we get to see a gradual change in his personality, witnessing him understand his true nature and "glorious purpose," to the point where he's already this completely different person after one season. Large in part because of the position he's forced into.

Some fans might say that the series is less about Loki and more about the TVA. And while I can unquestionably see their point, I still believe that the TVA is the perfect way for Loki to grow. He's a character all about causing chaos and controlling others, so forcing him to work for an organization that takes that away allows Loki time to really do some introspection. Because if his tricks don't work, and his deceptions can't fool others, then who is he? Well, through this series, we see who he truly is: A character who is alone and is intended to be nothing more than a villain whose only truly selfless act got him killed in the end. Even if he wants to better himself, he can't because that "goes against the sacred timeline." Loki is a person who is destined to fail, and he gets to see it all with his own eyes by looking at what his life was meant to be and by observing what it could have been. It's all tragic and yet another example of these shows proving how they allow underdeveloped characters in the MCU a better chance to shine. Because if Loki can give even more depth to a character who's already compelling as is, then that is a feat worth admiration.

The Score: Let's give our gratitude toward Natalie Holt, who f**king killed it with this series score. Every piece she made is nothing short of glorious. Sylvie's and the TVA's themes particularly stand out, as they perfectly capture who/what they're representing. Such as how Sylvie's is big and boisterous where the TVA's sound eerie and almost unnatural. Holt also finds genius ways to implement other scores into the series, from using familiar tracks from the Thor movies to even rescoring "Ride of the Valkyries" in a way that makes a scene even more epic than it already could have been. The MCU isn't best known for its musical scores, partly because they aim to be suitable rather than memorable. But every now and again, something as spectacular as the Loki soundtrack sprinkles through the cracks of mediocrity. Making fans all the more grateful because of it.

There’s a lot of Talking: To some, this will be considered a complaint. Most fans of the MCU come for the action, comedy, and insanely lovable characters. Not so much for the dialogue and exposition. That being said, I consider all of the talking to be one of Loki's best features. All the background information about the TVA added with the character's backstories fascinates me, making me enthusiastic about learning more. Not everyone else will be as interested in lore and world-building as others, but just because something doesn't grab you, in particular, doesn't mean it isn't appealing at all. Case in point: There's a reason why the Five Nights at Freddy's franchise has lasted as long as it has, and it's not entirely because of how "scary" it is.

There's also the fact that most of the dialogue in Loki is highly engaging. I'll admit, some scenes do drag a bit. However, every line is delivered so well that I'm more likely to hang on to every word when characters simply have honest conversations with each other. And if I can be entertained by Loki talking with Morbius about jetskis, then I know a show is doing at least something right.

It’s Funny: This shouldn't be a surprise. The MCU is well-known for its quippy humor in the direct acknowledgment that it doesn't take itself too seriously. With that said, it is clear which movies and shows are intended to be taken seriously, while others are meant to be comedies. Loki tries to be a bit of both. There are some heavy scenes that impact the characters, and probably even some fans, due to how well-acted and professionally written they can be. However, this is also a series about a Norse god traveling through time to deal with alternate versions of himself, with one of them being an alligator. I'd personally consider it a crime against storytelling to not make it funny. Thankfully, the writers aren't idiots and know to make the series fun with a few flawlessly timed and delivered jokes that never really take away from the few good grim moments that actually work.

It Kept Me Surprised: About everything I appreciate about Loki, the fact that I could never really tell what direction it was going is what I consider its absolute best feature. Every time I think I knew what was going to happen, there was always this one big twist that heavily subverted any and every one of my expectations. Such as how each time I thought I knew who the big bad was in this series, it turns out that there was an even worse threat built up in the background. The best part is that these twists aren't meant for shock value. It's always supposed to drive the story forward, and on a rewatch, you can always tell how the seeds have been planted for making each surprise work. It's good that it kept fans guessing, as being predictable and expected would probably be the worst path to take when making a series about Loki, a character who's all about trickery and deception. So bonus points for being in line with the character.

The TVA: You can complain all you want about how the show is more about the TVA than it is Loki, but you can't deny how the organization in question is a solid addition to the MCU. Initially, it was entertaining to see Loki of all characters be taken aback by how the whole process works. And it was worth a chuckle seeing Infinity Stones, the most powerful objects in the universe, get treated as paperweights. However, as the season continues and we learn about the TVA, the writers show that their intention is to try and write a message about freedom vs. control. We've seen this before in movies like Captain America: The Winter Soldier or Captain America: Civil War, but with those films, it always felt like the writers were leaning more towards one answer instead of making it obscure over which decision is correct. This is why I enjoy the fact that Loki went on saying that there really is no right answer for this scenario. If the TVA doesn't prune variants, it could result in utter chaos and destruction that no one from any timeline can prepare themselves for. But when they do prune variants along with their timelines, it takes away all free will, forcing people to be someone they probably don't even want to be. It's a situation where there really is no middle ground. Even if you bring up how people could erase timelines more destructive than others, that still takes away free will on top of how there's no unbiased way of deciding which timelines are better or worse. And the series found a brilliant way to explain this moral: The season starts by showing how the TVA is necessary, to later point out how there are flaws and evil secrets within it, and ends things with the revelation that there are consequences without the TVA keeping the timeline in check. It's an epic showcase of fantastic ideas met with exquisite execution that I can't help but give my seal of approval to.

Miss Minutes: Not much to say. This was just a cute character, and I love that Tara Strong, one of the most popular voice actors, basically plays a role in the MCU now.

Justifying Avengers: Endgame: Smartest. Decision. This series. Made. Bar none.

Because when you establish that the main plot is about a character getting arrested for f**king over the timeline, you're immediately going to get people questioning, "Why do the Avengers get off scot-free?" So by quickly explaining how their time-traveling antics were supposed to happen, it negates every one of those complaints...or most of them. There are probably still a-holes who are poking holes in that logic, but they're not the ones writing this review, so f**k them.

Mobius: I didn't really expect Owen Wilson to do that good of a job in Loki. Primarily due to how the Cars franchise discredits him as a professional actor for...forever. With that said, Owen Wilson's Mobius might just be one of the most entertaining characters in the series. Yes, even more so than Loki himself. Mobius acts as the perfect straight man to Loki's antics, what with being so familiar with the supposed god of mischief through past variations of him. Because of that, it's always a blast seeing these two bounce off one another through Loki trying to trick a Loki expert, and said expert even deceiving Loki at times. Also, on his own, Mobius is still pretty fun. He has this sort of witty energy that's often present in Phil Coulson (Love that character too, BTW), but thanks to Owen Wilson's quirks in his acting, there's a lot more energy to Mobius than one would find in Coulson. As well as a tad bit of tragedy because of Mobius being a variant and having no clue what his life used to be. It's a lot to unpack and is impressively written, added to how it's Owen Wilson who helps make the character work as well as he did. Cars may not have done much for his career, but Loki sure as hell showed his strengths.

Ravonna Renslayer: Probably the least entertaining character, but definitely one of the most intriguing. At least to me.

Ravonna is a character who is so steadfast in her believes that she refuses to accept that she may be wrong. Without the proper writing, someone like Ravonna could tick off (ha) certain people. Personally, I believe that Ravonna is written well enough where even though I disagree with her belief, I can understand where she's coming from. She's done so much for the TVA, bringing an end to so many variants and timelines that she can't accept that it was all for nothing. In short, Ravonna represents the control side of the freedom vs. control theme that the writers are pushing. Her presence is necessary while still being an appealing character instead of a plot device. Again, at least to me.

Hunter B-15: I have no strong feelings one way or another towards B-15's personality, but I will admit that I love the expectation-subversion done with her. She has this air of someone who's like, "I'm this by-the-books badass cop, and I will only warm up to this cocky rookie after several instances of them proving themselves." That's...technically not B-15. She's the first to see Loki isn't that bad, but only because B-15 is the first in the main cast to learn the hidden vile present in the TVA. It makes her change in point of view more believable than how writers usually work a character like hers, on top of adding a new type of engaging motivation for why she fights. I may not particularly enjoy her personality, but I do love her contributions.

Loki Watching What His Life Could Have Been: This was a brilliant decision by the writers. It's basically having Loki speedrun his own character development through witnessing what he could have gone through and seeing the person he's meant to be, providing a decent explanation for why he decides to work for the TVA. And on the plus side, Tom Hiddleston did a fantastic job at portraying the right emotions the character would have through a moment like this. Such as grief, tearful mirth, and borderline shock and horror. It's a scene that no other character could go through, as no one but Loki needed a wake-up call for who he truly is. This series might heavily focus on the TVA, but scenes like this prove just who's the star of the show.

Loki Causing Mischief in Pompeii: I just really love this scene. It's so chaotic and hilarious, all heavily carried by the fact that you can tell that Tom Hiddleston is having the time of his damn life being this character. What more can I say about it.

Sylvie: The first of many surprises this season offered, and boy was she a great one.

Despite being an alternate version of Loki, I do appreciate that Sylvie's her own character and not just "Loki, but with boobs." She still has the charm and charisma, but she also comes across as more hardened and intelligent when compared to the mischievous prick we've grown to love. A large part of that is due to her backstory, which might just be the most tragic one these movies and shows have ever made. Sylvie got taken away when she was a little girl, losing everything she knew and loved, and it was all for something that the people who arrested her don't even remember. How sad is that? The fact that her life got permanently screwed over, leaving zero impact on the people responsible for it. As badass as it is to hear her say she grew up at the ends of a thousand worlds (that's an album title if I ever heard one), it really is depressing to know what she went through. It also makes her the perfect candidate to represent the freedom side of the freedom vs. control argument. Because she's absolutely going to want to fight to put an end to the people who decide how the lives of trillions should be. Those same people took everything from Sylvie, and if I were in her position, I'd probably do the same thing. Of course, we all know the consequences that come from this, and people might criticize Sylvie the same way they complain about Thor and Star Lord for screwing over the universe in Avengers: Infinity War. But here's the thing: Sylvie's goals are driven by vengeance, which can blind people from any other alternatives. Meaning her killing He Who Remains is less of a story flaw and more of a character flaw. It may be a bad decision, but that's for Season Two Sylvie to figure out. For now, I'll just appreciate the well-written and highly compelling character we got this season and eagerly wait as we see what happens next with her.

The Oneshot in Episode Three: Not as epic as the hallway scene in Daredevil, but I do find it impressive that it tries to combine real effects, fighting, and CGI in a way where it's all convincing enough.

Lady Sif Kicking Loki in the D**k: This is a scene that makes me realize why I love this series. At first, I laugh at Loki being stuck in a time loop where Lady Sif kicks him in the d**k over and over again. But a few scenes later, this setup actually works as a character moment that explains why Loki does the things he does.

This series crafted phenomenal character development through Loki getting kicked in the d**k by the most underrated badass of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It's a perfect balance of comedy and drama that not every story can nail, yet Loki seemed like it did with very little effort.

Classic Loki: This variant shows the true tragedy of being Loki. The only way to survive is to live in isolation, far away from everything and everyone he loves, only to end up having his one good deed result in his death anyways. Classic Loki is definitive proof that no matter what face they have, Lokis never gets happy endings. They're destined to lose, but at least this version knows that if you're going out, you're going out big. And at least he got to go out with a mischievous laugh.

(Plus, the fact that he's wearing Loki's first costume from the comics is a pretty cute callback).

Alligator Loki: Alligator Loki is surprisingly adorable, and if you know me, you know that I can't resist cute s**t. It's not in my nature.

Loki on Loki Violence: If you thought Loki going ham in Pompeii was chaotic, that was nothing to this scene. Because watching these Lokis backstab one another, to full-on murdering each other, is a moment that is best described as pure, unadulterated chaos. And I. Loved. Every. Second of it.

The Opening Logo for the Season Finale: I'm still not that big of a fan of the opening fanfare playing for each episode, but I will admit that it was a cool feature to play vocal clips of famous quotes when the corresponding character appears. It's a great way of showing the chaos of how the "sacred timeline" works without having it to be explained further.

The Citadel: I adore the set design of the Citadel. So much history and backstory shine through the state of every room the characters walk into. You get a perfect picture of what exactly happened, but seeing how ninety percent of the place is in shambles, it's pretty evident that not everything turned out peachy keen. And as a personal note, my favorite aspect of the Citadel is the yellow cracks in the walls. It looks as though reality itself is cracking apart, which is pretty fitting when considering where the Citadel actually is.

He Who Remains: This man. I. Love. This man.

I love this man for two reasons.

A. He's a ton of fun. Credit to that goes to the performance delivered by Jonathon Majors. Not only is it apparent that Majors is having a blast, but he does a great job at conveying how He Who Remains is a strategic individual but is still very much off his rocker. These villains are always my favorite due to how much of a blast it is seeing someone with high intelligence just embracing their own insanity. If you ask me, personalities are always essential for villains. Because even when they have the generic plot to rule everything around them, you're at least going to remember who they are for how entertaining they were. Thankfully He Who Remains has that entertainment value, as it makes me really excited for his eventual return, whether it'd be strictly through Loki Season Two or perhaps future movies.

And B. He Who Remains is a fantastic foil for Loki. He Who Remains is everything Loki wishes he could have been, causing so much death, destruction, and chaos to the multiverse. The important factor is that he does it all through order and control. The one thing Loki despises, and He Who Remains uses it to his advantage. I feel like that's what makes him the perfect antagonist to Loki, thanks to him winning the game by not playing it. I would love it if He Who Remains makes further appearances in future movies and shows, especially given how he's hinted to be Kane the Conqueror, but if he's only the main antagonist in Loki, I'm still all for it. He was a great character in his short time on screen, and I can't wait to see what happens next with him.

WHAT I DISLIKED

Revealing that Loki was D.B. Cooper: A cute scene, but it's really unnecessary. It adds nothing to the plot, and I feel like if it was cut out entirely, it wouldn't have been the end of the world...Yeah. That's it.

That's my one and only complaint about this season.

Maybe some scenes drag a bit, and I guess Episode Three is kind of the weakest, but there's not really anything that this series does poorly that warrants an in-depth complaint.

Nope.

Nothing at all...

…

...

...I'm not touching that "controversy" of Loki falling for Sylvie instead of Mobius. That's a situation where there are no winners.

Only losers.

Exclusively losers.

Other than that, this season was amazing!

IN CONCLUSION

I'd give the first season of Loki a well-earned A, with a 9.5 through my usual MCU ranking system. It turns out, it really is the best type of wackiness that was just too good to fail. The characters are fun and likable, the comedy and drama worked excellently, and the expansive world-building made me really intrigued with the more we learned. It's hard to say if Season Two will keep this momentum, but that's for the future to figure out. For now, let's just sit back and enjoy the chaos.

(Now, if you don't excuse me, I have to figure out how to review Marvel's What If...)

[thepancakeboi]

112. “Quit looking at me with that stupid expression. You’re pissing me off.”

“I’m going to kill you for this, Ren.”

“Will you really?” Ren, my overly smug boyfriend, asks as cheekily as possible.

I scowl up at him, knowing that I won’t. Even if the situation I find myself in is not one of my choosing.

I had woken up this morning to the sound of my phone’s notification sound at around nine. To my surprise, it was Ren texting me. He’s not the type to wake up early when it’s not a school day. It read: “Come to Leblanc quick it’s urgent”.

A little concerned, I replied: “I am on my way”. I wondered why it was so imperative that I go to Leblanc. Hopefully, nothing serious happened. I quickly prepared for the day and changed into my typical uniform before leaving my apartment in Kichijoji.

When I arrived about forty minutes later, I was shocked to see the sign was still flipped to “closed”. That was odd. Leblanc was usually open by now. Tentatively, I opened the door and peeked in. Sojiro Sakura was nowhere to be seen, and Ren wasn’t there either. “Ren?” I called out, looking around the empty cafe.

“Up here,” Ren’s voice replied from up in the attic. I climbed the stairs, wondering what he wanted that required me to come here.

Nothing had me prepared for this.

Ren was sitting on his bed dressed in what could best be described as a policewoman’s outfit. He went so far as to wear a black wig and pantyhose...and he even had handcuffs hanging from his waist. Where he got any of this, I had no idea, nor was I going to ask. I raised an eyebrow at Ren’s getup. “What the hell is this?”

“What’s what?” he asked, dark red lips twisted in a teasing smirk at my startled expression. Yes, he was wearing lipstick. Of course. “Your...outfit.”

“Oh, this?” He stood up and walked over to me, slinking an arm around my waist. I instantly noticed he was taller than me. Of course, that was only because of the heels on his knee-high boots. He just had to be taller. “I’m arresting you because you’re criminally gorgeous.”

My face flushed, only made worse as his free hand fiddled absentmindedly with the handcuffs. “Aren’t you worried Sakura-san will be back soon? Does he even know about...this?”

“No. He took Futaba out to Akihabara for the day. They won’t be back until tonight.” He grinned. “It’s just the two of us...anything could happen.”

“What did you want?” I asked while backing away, wanting to change the discussion before I became too flustered by Ren’s incessant flirting. “You said it was, and I quote, ‘urgent’. I hope it wasn’t just to show me this.”

“I need you to do something for me.”

“What is it?”

“It’s important.”

I crossed my arms. “I’m not doing anything unless you tell me what it is.”

“Okay. I need you to crossdress for me.” “Wh-What!?” I sputtered, flabbergasted. Surely I misheard him, right?

“Akeppi, darling, love of my life, I need you to crossdress for me,” he repeated as he pulled me close to him once again.

“Why would I agree to such an inane suggestion?”

“Cuz you love me.”

“No. I’m not crossdressing. Anything but that.”

He gasped as if seeing a perfect opportunity. “Does that mean you’ll finally admit to being a bottom?”

“Absolutely not,” I growled. “Especially when it’s completely untrue.”

“Mmm...keep telling yourself that. I totally believe you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what you think.”

That was it. I had enough of this nonsense, especially when it wasn’t as urgent as Ren made me believe. “I’ll be leaving now.”

“Wait, at least let me explain-”

“No,” I interrupted, trying to push away from him. However, he refused to let go. “Get off!” Of course, he didn’t listen. I squirmed, trying to get free. The struggle itself was a blur, but it ended with us on the floor, Ren straddling me and my arms pinned down by his hands holding my wrists.

Given the current situation, I think my false threat to kill Ren is justified.

I’m not going to kill him, though. I know it. He knows it. Hell, I’m sure just about everyone knows by now. “Ren, please get off of me. If you do, then we can discuss this.”

“You’re lying.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ll run as soon as I do.”

“You bastard,” I snap. He’s correct, of course. I would have bolted as soon as my arms were free. He sees right through me and my lies so easily. I hate it. My scowl deepens as he gives that self-satisfied little menace smile of his. “Quit looking at me with that stupid expression. You’re pissing me off.”

“But I’m enjoying seeing you like this. And I think you’re enjoying it, too,” he adds in a low whisper.

“Bullshit. I’m not.”

“You’re wrong,” Ren says in the smuggest tone imaginable. “If you weren’t, wouldn’t you have kept fighting?”

I simply glare up at him, refusing to answer that question. Instead, I say, “Go ahead. Explain. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Ryuji lost a bet to Ann, and he asked Yusuke and me to join in. I thought it would be fun.”

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: you have a twisted concept of fun.”

I pay for that comment when he playfully ruffles my hair. He remembers that day as vividly as I do. For a split second, I have the opportunity to try and escape again. It’s at that moment when Ryuji walks in, looking absolutely ridiculous in what is clearly an attempt to imitate Ann. “Speak of the devil,” I hiss, shoving Ren off of me while he’s distracted by Ryuji. “I refuse to have any part in your shenanigans.”

“Wait, you told him!?” Ryuji asks.

Ren nods happily. “Yup!”

“What the hell, man!? Why’d you do that?”

“I wanted Akeppi to join us. I was trying to convince him.”

“For real!?” The grin that crosses Ryuji’s face is nothing short of terrifying. “Sounds good to me.”

“Absolutely not,” I interject, finally pushing myself to my feet. “I will not be joining you three in this escapade.”

“No way, man. If I have to do this, then so do you!”

“I’m not the one who lost a bet. You can forget me being a part of this.”

“Renren, help me out here,” Ryuji says, turning to Ren.

A look passes between them, one full of silent schemes and unspoken commands. I need to move...now. I make a mad dash for the stairs just as the duo lunge at me. Ryuji manages to grab me just as I pass by him, pulling my arms behind my back. I thrash and squirm as erratically as possible, trying to throw Ryuji off. He’s stronger than I give him credit for. All I’m managing to do is tire myself out.

I fight fiercely against Ryuji’s hold for a solid minute, cursing all the while. Ren, meanwhile, just watches in mild amusement. Fucking traitor. “Want me to use these?” Ren asks as my struggles start to grow weaker, gesturing to the handcuffs. I don’t miss the mischievous smirk hiding behind that mask of neutrality.

“Dude, no. I got this!” Ryuji replies. His grip tightens as he pulls me back. My endeavors cease. This is getting me nowhere. “Just do your thing.”

Ren immediately grins, knowing it’s his time to shine. All I can do is give him a glare full of malice. He remains unfazed. “Come on, Akeppi. Please?” Ren whispers softly and seductively in my ear.

I avert my gaze as I respond, “No.”

“Please?” He’s still using that damn sexy tone of voice, only now he’s running a hand through my hair. It’s distracting. A deadly combination that is...completely...utterly...distracting-

“Fine, fine,” I say before it becomes any worse. Ren nods, signaling Ryuji to release me. I stalk off to a different corner of the room, looking pointedly at Ren as I add, “But no pictures. Got it?”

“Aww.” Ren pouts, but he’s not going to persuade me that easily.

“I’m gonna wait for Kitakita,” Ryuji says, heading downstairs. “He’s prolly still doin’ his makeup.”

Satisfied that it’s just the two of us, I unbutton and shrug off my jacket, placing it gently on Ren’s bed. I freeze as Ren comes up behind me and loosens my tie. He tosses it unceremoniously next to the jacket, coming around to be in front of me. He starts to undo the top few buttons of my dress shirt only to stop partway through. What is he even planning? With a smirk, he starts to run a hand along the now-exposed skin, sending my nerves haywire. “Wh-What are you doing?”

“Just admiring my prisoner,” he hums, continuing to feel up my body. With a roll of my eyes, I undo the rest of the buttons since clearly he’s no longer helping.

After nearly an hour of Ren getting me dressed, doing my hair, and doing my makeup, the deed is done. I glare at the proffered mirror, snatching it with a lace-gloved hand. There are so many layers in this pastel blue dress that fits surprisingly well, and that’s not even including the gray petticoat peeking out from underneath. Ren had added in hair extensions to make my hair look like twin drills. The hair color matches perfectly. It’s almost unnerving. I give Ren a cold look as I hand the mirror back. “Was the black lipstick truly necessary?”

“Yes. You look absolutely adorable!”

“Shut up,” I snap, looking away from him.

“Aww, look at my little tsundere pancake~”

“Your what!?”

“You heard me. You’re my little tsundere pancake.”

I’m about to argue against that, but I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. This time, Ryuji is accompanied by Yusuke. Besides the taller boy’s ninja-inspired outfit, I notice the two of them are holding hands. I’ll have to ask Ren about this later. “I’m sorry I’m late,” Yusuke apologizes. “I got off a stop early to try and save money.”

“Yusuke, just let me give you money,” Ren whines. “You know I have plenty from our time in the Metaverse.”

“You know I could not accept such a generous offer.”

“You complete, utter fool,” I mutter.

Ryuji gives me the evil eye as he yells, “Shuddup, Akechi! You’ve no right to say anything!”

“Excuse me!?”

“Hey. Be nice,” Ren says before we can escalate this argument further.

“Sorry, man,” Ryuji says. I just stew in silence. I’m not wrong. Yusuke should just accept Ren’s offer rather than continue to reject the aid. “Hey, shouldn’t we call Ann?”

“I’ll do it,” Ren replies. He pulls out his phone and walks downstairs, leaving me with his two crossdressing accomplices.

“So, what did Renren get you into?” Ryuji asks with a sick smirk.

“I have no idea, nor do I care,” I snap.

He shrugs before turning to Yusuke. “Kitakita, you know what it is?”

“Ah, yes, the Hime Lolita style! Its elegance suits him quite remarkably.”

“The what style?”

“Hime...it means ‘princess’,” I hiss through gritted teeth.

“Ooh!” Ryuji laughs as he adds, “Detective Prince? More like Detective Princess!”

“Shut it, Sakamoto,” I reply, still irritable from earlier.

“Nah, this is fun!”

“Your concept of fun is almost as bad as Ren’s.”

“Hey, at least my boyfriend’s okay with it.”

“Indeed, I am,” Yusuke responds. I guess I don’t have to ask Ren later about the two of them holding hands.

Ren comes back upstairs a few seconds later. “Ann will be here in a few minutes. She doesn’t know about Goro, though.”

“You didn’t tell her?” Yusuke questions.

“No. I wanted it to be a surprise. We should probably go downstairs,” Ren adds, holding out a hand to help me out. I smack his hand away. There is no way I am accepting his help. I push myself to my feet, a little unsteady due to the heels on these stupid shoes. They still don’t make me taller than Ren in his boots, though. Of fucking course.

“Are you both really wearin’ heels?” Ryuji asks skeptically.

I shake my head, looking at Ryuji as I reply, “Remember that this wasn’t my choice.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

We all head downstairs. This time, I do reluctantly accept his help with wobbling over to the stairs. I’m not Ren. I didn’t run around fighting Shadows in the Metaverse in heels. As soon as we reach them, Ren grins and picks me up bridal style, walking downstairs in heels with unnatural ease. For once, I’m not complaining. The less I have to walk in these heels, the better. I do give him an unamused look when he refuses to put me down, but I don’t say a word.

Ann arrives a couple of minutes later. “Hi!” she says in greeting. “Oh my god, that’s great, Ryuji!”

“What about those guys? Kitakita and Renren were more eager about it than me,” Ryuji grumbles.

“I couldn’t believe it when you told me they were doing it, too! You two are looking good as ever, and-” At that point, two and two seem to click in Ann’s brain. The genuine shock on her face is priceless. She stammers, “W-Wait, Akechi? Is that you?”

“Hey,” I sigh.

“Wow, you look amazing! Did Ren help?”

“Help?” I scoff. “He’s the only reason I did this.”

“I can be quite persuasive,” Ren adds, nuzzling me. “Doesn’t he look cute?”

“He does!” Ann agrees.

“I do not,” I shoot back. I scowl, but I’m sure I probably look like a pouting child.

“Adorable,” Ren repeats, beaming.

I sigh in annoyance, crossing my arms as I look pointedly away from them. Despite my outward irritation, I can’t help but feel...happy. Yes, I’m happy that he finds me cute and adorable. His loving remarks hold some power over me, a power that I know Ren won’t abuse. He’s not Shido. Ren actually means each and every compliment he gives. “Ren, give Ann your phone. I’ll let you have one picture.”

The grin on Ren’s face could make even the most despondent of individuals smile. Maybe I could live with this.

Prompt list

[spaceskam]

Happy birthday @lire-casander! Here’s some young and in love malex! Sending all the best vibes your way❤️️

ao3

Michael: sneak out

Alex: I can't

Michael: sneak outttt

Alex: my dad's home

Michael: all I'm hearing are reasons for you to sneak out

Michael: please?

Michael: pleeeeeaaaassseeeeeee

Alex: fine! Give me a few minutes!

Michael: thank god i need you naked like yesterday

Michael: pictures aren’t enough

Michael: this is true suffering

Alex: omg

Alex stuffed his phone into his back pocket and checked himself in the mirror, quickly touching up his eyeliner and his hair. He always felt a little giddy every time Michael requested his presence, especially when it was to sneak out on a school night. There were certain things that he didn’t expect to have in high school. A boyfriend with a truck and a no-holds-barred attitude broke all of those expectations.

After he was pretty sure he looked good, he sprayed himself with cologne and made sure his door was locked. His dad was actually pretty good about not checking in on him after 10PM and he knew that he had until 5 in the morning before he needed to be presentable. That was a solid amount of time to be reckless with Michael Guerin. 

He quietly pushed up his window and climbed out, putting a pen beneath it as he closed it back. He made sure it didn't look too obvious before he started to head to the front of the house and started jogging down the street towards the truck that was waiting for him.

He hopped in the passenger seat and Michael immediately grabbed him, pulling him close. Alex giggled as he doused him with kisses in any place he could reach before he met his lips, immediately slipping into something far too explicit for the first kiss of the night.

"God, I missed you," Michael groaned, giving him a sloppy kiss that dragged across his cheek and down to his jaw.

"You saw me at school today," Alex laughed. He didn't push him away, though. He didn't want him to stop or let go.

"Fuck school, I can't touch you at school. I just want to touch you all the time," Michael complained, his hand slipping up under the back of his shirt. Alex smiled helplessly.

"And I want you to," Alex told him. It just seemed to fuel him, his grip getting tighter and tugging him impossibly close as their legs struggled to overlap in the small space the truck provided. "But maybe we should go somewhere else?"

"Fuck, yeah, you're right," Michael agreed, slowly peeling away from him. He rested his forehead on Alex's for a moment, marveling at him. "You're literally the most beautiful thing in the universe, did you know that?"

"Shut up," Alex laughed, stealing one more kiss, "Drive."

"Yeah," Michael agreed, giving him one more dazed look before turning his attention to the road and putting the truck in drive.

Alex did his best to be good, simply tucking himself against his side as he drove somewhere where they could do whatever and no one would see. Neither of them were exactly keeping a secret, but they weren't really parading it either. If people knew, they knew, but they weren't going to be announcing shit and they didn’t feel the need to show PDA when other people were around. It didn't matter how many fancy laws the state passed. Tensions were still high when two boys were interested in each other, so they kept it to the people they trusted.

"I'm so ready to get the fuck out of here," Michael said, "When we go to college, it's gonna be great. I'm gonna kiss you in front of everyone."

"That's your dream?" Alex asked, smiling at him and nuzzling his nose beneath his jaw.

"Well, my dream would be kissing you in our big ass mansion in California that overlooks the ocean that we pay for on our rich people salaries. But I’ll settle for college," Michael told him. Alex laughed and kissed his shoulder. 

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy about you, baby.”

“Stop, you’re so cheesy,” Alex said, shaking his head. Michael just gave a proud little hum.

A few minutes later, Michael turned onto a dark, narrow road that was shrouded by trees. If anyone else was driving, it probably would’ve been scary, but Alex trusted him more than anything in the world. Maybe that was stupid of him, but he didn’t mind feeling stupid when it came to him.

He eventually slowed to a stop and shut off the truck, the lights still shining as it overlooked a cliff. Michael turned to him and gave him a kiss that didn’t last nearly long enough.

“C’mon,” he said instead, flashing that wild smile before climbing out of the truck. Alex followed without question.

He only started having questions when Michael started taking his shirt off and walking towards the edge of the cliff.

“What are you doing?” Alex asked. Michael threw his shirt onto the hood of the truck and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Skinny dipping,” he said simply, “C’mon.”

Alex was a little hesitant though, looking over the edge of the cliff. It wasn’t that big of a drop, probably only about 25 feet or so, and the water looked deep enough with no sharp rocks in sight. His stomach still twisted with anxiety though and he looked back to Michael who was taking off his boots, still grinning at him.

“No worries, I’ve jumped off this cliff before, it’s safe,” he promised.

“No rocks?”

“None. Water’s at least, like, 30 feet deep, too, because I couldn’t reach the bottom when I tried.”

“No fish? Sharks? Alligators?”

Michael laughed, “Did you just ask me if there’s alligators? In New Mexico?”

“Hey, it could happen!”

“No, there’s no alligators. And, if we see one, I’ll protect you,” he promised. It was hard to do anything but blush and roll his eyes at that. “There’s fish, but they’ll usually steer clear of you after you jump in.”

“Mhm,” Alex hummed, “And no one’s gonna come and steal our clothes or anything?”

“No one comes here, they all go to the caves in the desert. That’s the cool people spot, this is my spot,” Michael explained. Alex nodded in understanding. He’d never even heard of this place before. “Stop worrying, it’s gonna be fun.”

Michael kicked off his jeans and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, pausing as he looked at Alex.

“You gonna join or are you just enjoying the show?”

“Can’t I have both?”

“I mean, yes,” Michael agreed. Alex rolled his eyes and then pulled his shirt over his head. So much for touching up his hair and makeup.

Michael discarded his boxers before coming over to help Alex strip. He was so confident in his body and Alex loved it more than he could describe. He wasn’t exactly shy about his own, but Michael was the type of guy who could walk down the hall in school completely naked and not give a shit. He just wasn’t a clothing type of guy and it was the opposite of a problem.

“God, you’re so gorgeous,” Michael gushed as Alex put his clothes on the hood of the truck beside Michael’s. He moved in for a kiss, pressing their bodies flush together. Skin to skin, no shame involved. It was funny to think that, once upon a time, Michael had been unraveled by the mere idea of kissing him. Now... Well, now, that seemed to be the main event.

“So are you,” Alex whispered, hands gliding up his bare sides. His skin was so hot compared to most people and Alex didn’t know why. He figured it had everything to do with them both being excited every time they could touch each other.

Michael gave him a string of kisses that ranged from his lips to his forehead to his collar bone before peeling off him and then breaking into a sprint. Alex watched as he just ran and jumped off the edge of the cliff, all inhibitions cast aside. Alex felt like this is what love must’ve been. Watching someone jump off a cliff and wanting nothing more but to follow.

So he did.

He ran and he jumped, the fall lasting hardly more than a second before he plunged deep into the dark water. It was exhilarating, his heart thudding in his chest as he pushed back to the surface and laughed as he did so.

“See! Told you it’d be fun!” Michael announced. Alex just swam closer, throwing his arms around his neck and wrapping his legs around his waist. Michael laughed and kept them afloat as Alex went in for a kiss.

He knew he probably wasn’t as pretty in that moment, his makeup smeared and his hair flat from the water, but he figured he could kiss Michael long enough that he wouldn’t notice. Not that that was ever a chore. 

Alex played with his wet curls as he parted Michael’s lips with his tongue, feeling him hum in response. It was indescribably easy to be with Michael Guerin, to kiss him like nothing else mattered, to hold him close without any fear that he’d drop him, to trust that he wouldn’t hurt him even if he had the option. Alex had never felt so safe with someone before. That should be scary... but it wasn’t.

“So, our mansion in California,” Alex whispered, his fingers sliding over Michael’s jaw. He pressed another kiss to his lips, slow and deliberate. “Do we have a dog?”

“Two,” Michael confirmed softly, focusing all of his energy to just keep them afloat and letting Alex just control all of the kissing. What a fun little thing that was. “And a bearded dragon.”

“Oh yeah?” Alex asked, smiling at the idea of having pets with him. A little family. “And we can have a big kitchen too where we can cook all the time.”

“And fuck on the floor while we’re waiting for things to finish baking,” Michael suggested. Alex laughed, giving him another long, languid kiss with just a little bit of tongue. It left Michael breathing a little heavier.

“And a big bathroom, too, with a big, one-sided window that looks out to the ocean.”

“California king sized bed, too, even though I’ll probably just be sleeping right next to you.”

“That’s okay, leaves room for the dogs to share.”

“Exactly.”

They both gave soft laughs as they stared at each other for a moment. Alex forgot the fact that his mascara was probably making him look like he had two black eyes because it didn’t matter when Michael was looking at him like that. It was like he was so confident that they were going to get that or get something close to that. They were going to be something, both separate and together.

“I love you,” Alex said honestly. Michael’s eyelashes fluttered and his face went soft. He was so sweet.

“I love you too.”

They spent awhile just kissing and wading through the water until Michael’s arms got tired from holding them both up. They swam to shore and it was only then did Alex realize that they’d have to walk all the way back up to the truck while naked.

“Don’t worry, I know a short cut,” Michael promised, laughing the minute he saw his pouting. Still, he pressed his thumb into Alex’s bottom lip and then pulled him into a kiss. It made what should’ve been a short three minute walk into ten minutes.

They got back to the truck and, instead of being adults and checking the time to make sure they weren’t going to be late, stumbled into the side of it while trying to get as close to each other as possible. Laughs mingled in the night air as they both tried and failed to get a grip on each other, hands slipping off damp skin.

It was only when Michael said fuck it and dropped to his knees that Alex found anything to grip. He leaned against the truck, his head tilted back with his hands in Michael’s hair. This was reckless, this was stupid, this was technically illegal and considered public indecency at the very least, and, damn, it would make for a good story to tell Liz and Maria the next day. 

Alex moaned into the night air, unrestrained and unafraid. He wanted to live in his night, live in this perfect bubble of them and nothing else. It was only them, only this. Forget regret, right?

Michael finished him off and then left a string of kisses over his hips, hands pressed to the back of his thighs for a few extra seconds until he was sure Alex would have no problem standing on his own. He got back on his feet and kissed him until Alex felt braindead all over again. Yeah, this was love.

“I gotta get you home,” Michael said when Alex offered to return the favor, “Tomorrow night, maybe?”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, still feeling like he was floating on air. It must’ve been obvious because Michael laughed and kissed his cheek, wrapping him up in a hug. Alex hugged him back and breathed him in. 

They eventually had to pull apart and get dressed, touching each other much more than was actually necessary but that felt like someone else’s problem. Even as they got back into the truck, Alex couldn’t be sad that the night was ending. In fact, he was happier than he’d been in a long time. He was always left on that cloud whenever he spent time with Michael.

“Sanders is gonna be so pissed when he finds dirt stains on the inside of my jeans when he’s doing laundry,” Michael noted as they started driving home. Alex laughed from his place tucked into his side.

“I’d say blame me, but...”

“But he already knows and will still blame me,” Michael mused, “I can hear him now, ‘I don’t care what your up to, boy, but stop being stupid about it’. And the stupidity comes from only the stains, by the way, not the me being shameless.”

Alex snorted a laugh. “I wish I could be shameless.”

“One day, baby, it’s gonna be great. Just you wait.”

Michael dropped him off a few blocks away, saying goodnight with a kiss that promised more tomorrow, and telling him to make sure he texted him when he got inside so he knew he was safe. Alex did just that after he climbed back into his window, carefully closing it so he wouldn’t wake anyone else up.

Alex: didn’t die

Michael: oh good cuz that would suck

Alex: love you <3

Michael: love you moreeeee :*

Alex fell into bed, not caring that he smelled like gross lake water, and held his phone over his heart. 

College couldn’t come soon enough.

[nothingunrealistic]

Prompt/request: Winston has been SUPER burned out lately because of, yunno, the pressure to prove himself and actually be valued for his contributions to mase cap while almost everyone rags on him, and eventually it gets ... too far. I'll leave it vague to give you some freedom. Cue dynamics between Taylor, Rian and Mafee (because not enough people pay attention to the latter relationship, I know Mafee was a giant dickwad to Winston in 4x11 but he might as well has his own loyalties tested).

Renovations have been going on all week at Axe Capital, and the noise is really ruining the ambience of the office. Luckily for Rian, none of the construction work is happening inside the Mase Carb enclave, but glass walls don’t block out all the sound, just muffle it.

With everyone trying to make up the losses from the Shine-Lucence collapse, it’s been a week of late nights for the quant team. She’d expect the construction crew to have gone home by now, but they’re still in the building, and the constant clamor of saw and hammer still seeps through the glass. Maybe they don’t have a union.

Rian hits the button on another backtest and leans back in her chair. That should give her an hour at least to look into another project, or maybe just to relax. 

She glances over to Winston, thinking of asking what he’s working on, but he doesn’t look like he’s working at all. Though technically he’s looking at his Bloomberg, or at least pointing his face toward it, his eyes are glazed over. His hands aren’t on his keyboard or mouse; one of them is clicking a pen every few seconds.

Rian pauses her music and takes off her headphones. Normally that would catch Winston’s attention, but he doesn’t look her way. She needs to be more obvious.

“¿Estás pensando en la inmortalidad del cangrejo?”

Winston’s eyes flick over to her, more focused now, giving her a half-hearted attempt at a death glare. He still doesn’t say anything.

“You’re really spacing out right now,” Rian says. “Like, you might as well be in the Oort cloud.” Oh, that’s a good metaphor, very fund-appropriate. She’d better keep that one in her back pocket.

The silent semi-glare lasts several more seconds before Winston speaks. “Long week. I’m tired.”

A hammer bangs against metal somewhere on the main floor, and Winston flinches, eyes flickering shut, fingers curling tighter around the pen. That doesn’t look like ordinary exhaustion.

“Construction getting to you?” Rian says, trying to be casual. Sounding too concerned would make it weird. “I can’t believe they’re still here.”

“Yeah. Can’t block it out, can’t focus.”

“Don’t you have headphones?”

“Broke last week. New pair hasn’t shipped yet.”

The muted clunk of the office door opening turns both Rian’s and Winston’s heads. Mafee’s walked in, and pushed the door so far open that it’s locked into place, letting the sounds of power tools flow in unfiltered. “You guys are still here?”

“Fuck off,” Winston says. A few analysts stare, but Mafee ignores him.

“You’re also still here,” Rian points out.

“Everyone on the trading floor’s gone home. Didn’t expect there to be anyone left here.”

Winston drops his pen onto the desk. “Shut the door, asshole.” 

“Deal with it,” Mafee says.

“Do you know what the renovations are for?” Rian says, as Winston pulls off his glasses and buries his face in his hands. “Or why they’re continuing this late?”

“No clue.” Mafee yanks out an empty desk chair and drops into it with a clatter. “Back in the Westport office, Axe had the meditation room torn up and redone into a panic room. Maybe he’s doing that again.”

“What for?”

“Who knows? It’s Axe, no one has a fucking clue why he does anything until six months later.” A drill whines and buzzes outside; Mafee raises his voice. “I mean, when he was renovating the first time, he was crazy paranoid about there being a quisling in the office, and then in three weeks it was like he’d totally forgotten about it — whoa, hey, man —”

Rian follows his gaze to Winston, who’s pressing his open hands against his face again and again, so hard that it has to hurt. Red scratches run from his hairline down over his forehead. Mafee jumps from his chair and tries to pull Winston’s hands away from his face. “Dude, you’re gonna hurt yourself, don’t do that —” 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Winston grits out, barely intelligible, struggling to yank his hands free of Mafee’s grip.

“Help me out here,” Mafee says, turning back to Rian, but she’s never seen this happen, has no idea what to do. 

Who would know?

Lauren and Wendy are nowhere in sight. Most of the other quants have gone home, and the few left, whose names Rian doesn’t know anyway, are pointedly ignoring events at Winston’s end of the desk. Taylor —

Taylor’s still here, in their office. Taylor knows how to handle problems, how to make things better.

“I’m going to get Taylor,” Rian announces, and gets up from her chair.

On her way, one analyst she passes dares to ask, “What’s going —”

“None of your business,” Rian says, because it seems fitting, and sounds a lot better than I don’t know either and I’m scared.

She slips into Taylor’s office. With their laptop open and the desk phone pressed to their ear, they don’t notice her even when the door shuts behind her. This might be a bad time.

“Hey, are you busy?”

“Excuse me for a moment,” Taylor says into the phone, before setting it on the desk. “Yes. Is this urgent?”

“Well, Winston’s kind of freaking out, and Mafee and I don’t know what to do,” Rian says, “so… yeah?”

Taylor looks toward Winston, and their brow furrows over widening eyes. They pick up the phone just long enough to say, “I’m sorry, but I’ll need to call you back another day,” before hanging up and slamming the laptop shut. In less time than it took Rian to decide to ask Taylor for help, they’re out the door; she follows them.

“Please go home and close the door behind you,” she hears them say to the remaining quants, who hurry to shut off their computers and pack up their things. When they get to Winston, they wave away Mafee — he’s gotten the message to get his hands off Winston, it seems, and was just entreating him to calm down instead. (It isn’t working.) No reason why Rian’s presence would be any more helpful; she retreats to the couch near the office entrance, the door finally swinging shut behind the last analyst to leave. 

Taylor sits in Rian’s chair, leaning in close to Winston and talking too quietly to hear from across the room. That doesn’t stop Rian from trying, and she’s straining so hard to pick out their words that it’s almost a surprise when Mafee sits down next to her. “Do you think he’s having a stroke or something?”

“I think if he were having a stroke, Taylor would have called 911 instead of handling it themself.” Rian shifts on the couch. Mafee’s sitting partly on her cushion and partly on the one next to it, and it’s throwing off her equilibrium. “You haven’t seen this before?”

“Never.”

Relative quiet settles over the office — the racket from outside is muffled again, and inside there’s only Taylor’s voice, low and calm, and Winston’s breathing, slowing.

Both of them get up, and Winston follows Taylor to their office. Through the glass, Rian watches him collapsing onto the couch just inside the door and Taylor pulling down the window shades. Seems like it’d be helpful if the glass walls on three sides also had shades. Maybe this would have been avoided if they were in a normal building.

Winston described it to her, once, the building that Taylor Mason Carbon had called home when it was named Taylor Mason Capital and not under Axe’s control. An old warehouse, refurbished, across the river in Dumbo. Exposed wood and stone and solid doors, low light and quiet, rather than Axe Cap’s glass and chrome and glaring fluorescents and soaring staircases that declare the future is here and now and it is insane wealth. He’d obviously missed it, and she can see why.

On the other side of the glass, Taylor sits down beside Winston, shoulder to shoulder, their backs to everyone else, and Rian aches.

“I think maybe we should leave,” Mafee says.

“We should.”

Rian pushes herself off the couch to return to her desk. The backtest will have to finish another day. She turns off her Bloomberg, scoops up her laptop and headphones, and doesn’t let her focus linger on Winston’s glasses, askew on his keyboard.

When she turns for the door, Taylor is there, and Rian almost jumps. It’s spooky how quietly they move sometimes. “Before you go, I need to speak with you. And Mafee.”

“Sure.”

A nod from Taylor summons Mafee from the couch. He comes over demanding to know, in a not-quite-whisper, “What the hell was that about?”

“Winston will be taking a few days off.”

“Because he gave himself a concussion and said ‘don’t fucking touch me’ when I tried to stop him?”

“In a case like that, I would suggest that you not fucking touch him.” Taylor shoves their hands in their pockets. “It likely exacerbated the situation.”

“There wasn’t a situation until he tried to tear his face off.”

“There kind of was,” Rian says. “Before you came in, he said he was tired and the noise from the construction was bothering him. And you leaving the door open probably didn’t help.”

“Exactly. Being subjected to noise at that volume for this long can be… overstimulating.” Rian steals a glance toward Winston, who’s now lying down on the couch. “Some people are more sensitive to that kind of disruption than others.”

“Winston? Sensitive?”

So the pot is calling the kettle callous now? “Unlike you.”

Mafee shrugs, hands falling open helplessly. “It’s not like I wanted him to suffer or something. I didn’t know he wasn’t just being a jackass about me leaving the door open.”

“Anyway,” Taylor says, curt. “Winston will be out next week. I’ll see what can be done about the renovations before he returns —”

“But he’s going to be fine, right?”

Surprised looks from both Mafee and Taylor land on her like laser sights. Damn. She sounded too concerned and she’s made it weird.

“Yes.” There’s no impatience in Taylor’s tone now, just sympathy. “He will be.”

[izaswritings]

Title: cinema blues

Fandom: RWBY

Synopsis: The night of the election, Oscar, Weiss, and Jaune go to the movies. ...Try to go to the movies, anyway.

(Or: in which Oscar is homesick, Weiss worries about election things, and Jaune frets about everything else. Problems aren't so easily avoided.)

AO3 Link is here.

.

“You didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to, Weiss.”

It is already evening in the city of Atlas, the sun setting far off behind the distant skyscrapers, all the buildings cast in dark silhouetted shadow. The theater is a hub of light and sound in contrast to the slowly dimming streets— a glowing sign flashes high above, the glass doors shining golden from the sheer wealth of light and noise and fanfare inside. Still, it’s far less crowded than Oscar had expected. In the eve of election day, the great cinema house has been left practically abandoned in favor of political celebrations and late-night distractions.

Of course, that doesn’t mean the theater is empty. The shortened lines wrap around the building, the air heavy with the smell of hot food, the distant conversations like a constant murmur in his ears. The three of them—Weiss, Jaune, and Oscar—are standing under a bright flashing sign, looking at a list of movie names that mean absolutely nothing, watching the lines move in.

“I know,” Weiss says, to Jaune. “Which is why I came, because I did want to.” Her arms are crossed, her eyes fixed on the movie board; she’s frowning, slightly, her foot tapping as she reads. Beside her, Jaune looks torn between fond and overwhelmed, and Oscar, a bit ahead of them both, watches the ticket-goers enter the theater, occasionally glancing back at them from the corner of his eye. “If you didn’t want me here, Jaune, you shouldn’t have invited me.”

“Oh, no, it’s not that!” Jaune waves his hands, rapid, laughing almost awkwardly. “Sorry, sorry, that’s not what I meant. You just, uh…” He trails off and cringes. “Look… very… upset?”

Oscar bites his lip at that. He’s noticed that too— Weiss had been almost cheerful on the walk over, news of the on-going election aside, but once they’d arrived her mood had taken a rather sharp nosedive.

Even now, something furrows at her brow; Weiss glares at the movie board and then squeezes her eyes shut. Oscar regards her with worry. “I’m just—” she says, and then sighs. She brings a hand to her temple, her braid swinging when she shakes her head. “I… don’t have a single clue on what any of these are about.”

Oscar follows her gaze to the movie board, the screens full of new titles and unfamiliar listings. Jaune looks too—and winces. “…Oh.”

“It makes sense,” Oscar offers, drifting back towards their side. He keeps his eyes on the lines, the bright lights of the screen making him dizzy. “I mean, um, we haven’t exactly been… I mean, we haven’t really had time recently, have we?”

Weiss frowns, still looking annoyed; Jaune is quiet for a moment, considering. “You know,” he starts, thoughtful, “I never really thought about it, but you’re right. We’ve been kind of… really busy this past year, huh. Two years.” He pauses. “Ugh.”

The three of them stand in contemplative silence. Weiss breaks first, sighing heavily, and turns around to walk over and sit down on a nearby bench, her annoyance replaced with exhaustion. Behind them, the election, still on-going, flashes the current poll numbers—60 to Robyn,  40 to Jacques. Weiss looks at the screen for a long moment, and doesn’t seem the slightest bit comforted.

“I didn’t even pay attention,” she admits, at last, eyes still on the election counter. “Even when I was home…”

“Always felt like there were more important things to do,” Jaune agrees, voice a little soft. He and Oscar share a brief look. Jaune nods first, silent agreement, and settles down next to Weiss. He watches the election news too, for a moment—lips tight and brow furrowed, eyes dropping down as if he could peer through the city floors and see straight down to Mantle. Oscar drifts beside them, unsure of what to say, hating the looks on their faces. He bites his lip and shuffles on his feet, and goes back to watching the theater.

The silence stretches—and then Jaune huffs and crosses his arms. “Yeah, okay. I have no idea what any of these movies are about either.” He rubs his chin. “Okay. Deciding factor. Oscar?”

“Hm?” Oscar is still watching the lines.

“What movie do you wanna see?”

Oscar shrugs. “What movies do people usually see at a theater?”

“What do you mean, what…” Jaune squints at him. “Oscar.”

“Yeah?”

“What movies have you seen at the theater?”

“Oh,” Oscar says, easily. He tucks his hands under his legs to keep warm and sits down on the bench railing, kicking his feet above the pristine street. Atlas really is far too shiny. It makes something in him ache for the dirt roads and overgrown wildlife of his home. “I’ve never been.”

“You’ve never… what?”

“Been,” Oscar says.

“To the theater?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve never seen a movie?”

“No, I’ve seen movies. Just not—”

“At the theater.”

Oscar almost laughs at him. “Yep.”

There’s a long pause. Both Weiss and Jaune are staring. Oscar looks back at them, something like bemused. “I was a farmhand,” he reminds them, honestly befuddled. “Middle of no-where, Mistral? And my Aunt and I, she had some helpers in the busy months but it was really just us, y’know?” Something in him aches at the memory—he hopes she’s doing okay—but Oscar pushes it back as he’s always done, and tilts his head. “The only theater around was two hours away, and it just wasn't worth the Lein, honestly. So, um. Yeah, I have no idea. I only saw movies released for scrolls… and my Aunt liked old-style cinema, anyway.���

“Meaning?”

“Lots of black-and-white Vacuo Westerns.”

Weiss puts her head in her hands. Jaune sighs. “Maybe this was a bad idea…”

Oscar winces. “It was a good idea!” he protests, kicking his feet. Gah, it’s cold. “Um, maybe we can just pick a random one?”

“I guess…” Jaune trails off, scratching at his head and leaning back against the bench. “I dunno. Weiss?”

“I mostly just came to get out of the Academy.”

“Yeah…”

They sit there, the three of them together, watching people mill about. The election booms on behind them, the numbers ticking down and up, constant change. Weiss looks at her hands; Jaune watches the poll numbers, lips pressed.

Oscar’s eyes linger on the theater, on the faces of the movie-goers. The fancy clothes, the unguarded smiles, soft laughter. It’s fancy in a way that makes his palms itch; he feels out of place here, too small and too—he’s not sure what. Rural? The streets are so clean he feels bad for walking there.

The more he sees of it, the less he likes Atlas. Haven had been big, but at least Oscar had felt like he fit there, just one of a thousand others. Even Mantle has felt—not welcoming, maybe, but solid. There is something about Atlas—maybe the troops, or the silver shine, or just the wealth of it all—that makes him feel the exact opposite. Like the city itself is rejecting him. Oscar can’t imagine living here. It feels more like a prop than a city; a shiny toy instead of a community.

He misses the farm suddenly and surely, a solid ache in his chest. He misses his Aunt. He misses—Mistral, maybe. Home. He’d never wanted to be a farmhand forever, but at least there he’d always known he’d belonged. Oscar has his team, now, has RWBY and Qrow and Maria and the others—but he knows the others feel it too. Atlas and the Academy are beautiful… but it is only barely a home.

He thinks it must cut Weiss deepest of all.

And it is Weiss, then, who decides for them. She tilts her head to Atlas’s clear sky, turned pitch dark and starless from the light pollution, and says, almost a sigh: “Let’s just… not.”

The idea of sitting still in a fancy theater, watching a movie he doesn’t care about and doesn’t know, surrounded by strangers… yeah, no. Oscar shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”

Jaune groans. “Movie night’s a bust, then. Man, and I’ll bet everyone else is having a great time, too.”

“We can never tell them about this.”

“Agreed.”

Oscar rolls his eyes, and hops to his feet. “I’m gonna buy popcorn,” he decides.

“For what?”

“I dunno. People-watching? I’ve never tried theater popcorn, I just want to know.”

“You’ve never had— !? No, no, no, right, I remember now, stop giving me that look—  I’m sorry!”

Weiss rolls her eyes and pushes up off the wall. “Come on,” she says to Oscar. “I’ll pay. It’s all going to be stupidly expensive, anyway…”

They’re standing in line and buying food when the channel changes back to the election, the final ten minutes ticking off. Oscar glances at the polls—closer than he thought they would be, honestly—and bites his lip when he glances over at Weiss. Her stare at the monitors is grim.

“…You okay?”

She glances down at him. “I’m fine.” But her eyes draw back to the monitors. Jaune places a hand at her back. She gives him a look. He smiles at her, sympathetic. Weiss closes her eyes and sighs—  and leans, just a little, into the touch. “Just… 47%. They must know he’s never going to do any good, don’t they?”

“Polls will close in a few minutes,” Jaune says, and squeezes her shoulder, a one-armed hug. “It’ll be fine.”

“Mm…”

But Weiss does not seem convinced.

They walk back outside, sitting on their bench, and Weiss watches the outside screens the whole time, as if reluctant to look away. Oscar munches on popcorn—dry, salty, and not nearly as good as Jaune told him it was, bleh, who would do that to perfectly good corn?—and puts it to the side, pushing it away slowly with the tip of his finger.

Jaune is still watching Weiss. “Do you wanna head back?”

Weiss shakes her head. “In a bit. Polls close in three minutes, right?” She draws her arms close. “I just…” Together, they watch the numbers tick up. 48%. “I need to be sure.”

Jaune is watching too, now. “You don’t think he’ll really…?”

Oscar watches the numbers tick. 49%. A knot of anxiety has formed in his chest, and he has to force himself to swallow. “Um… what happens if…?”

He can’t finish the question, and none of them can voice an answer. The dread grows. The numbers tick. Weiss closes her eyes, and her breath shudders. “How many more…?”

“…Thirty seconds.”

Her eyes are closed. Her lips twist. The polls shut. The results are read out. Someone in Atlas’s streets stands and cheers. High and hollow laughter in the air.

Oscar stares at the screen for a very long moment.

At long last, Weiss shakes her head, wordless. She lifts her head with a clenched jaw—eyes bright, her teeth grit, pain in her face and fury in the curl of her hands. Beside her, Jaune looks hollowed, eyes on his feet once again, as if to peer through the Atlas streets to Mantle sitting far below. His whole face twists, anger rising—  and then it fades, driven back, resigned. He reaches slowly to his side, and grips the hilt of his sword. “…We should head for Mantle,” he says, subdued.

The Grimm. There is no doubt. Oscar stands too, his heart heavy. For a moment, oddly, he feels strangely distant—not as alone in his head as usual. A grief for Mantle that is more than just his—despair turned two-fold. He reaches out, almost terrified to know.

Oz?

The feeling fades. There is only him. Oscar closes his eyes, lips twisting on a grimace, and unhooks the Long Memory from his back. It’s nothing, probably. Always nothing. He’d just hoped…

But there’s no time for disappointment, or bitterness, or whatever this feeling is. Already he can hear the sirens.

“Somehow I knew it would end up like this,” Weiss says, soft, and lifts her sword. Her expression goes cold, lips thin with determination. The theater, behind them, lies forgotten, flashing lights and laughter like something from a different world— or maybe a dream. “Well. It was nice while it lasted.”

“To Mantle, then,” Jaune says.

“To Mantle,” Oscar echoes, and together they head for the ships.

[shinygoku]

Top 10 CSatM Episodes (1/2)

Ahhh, Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons...! Probably only Second to Thunderbirds when it comes to the most popular and beloved Supermarination programme, with only Stingray able to compete for that coveted Silver Medal. But for me, it’s my Favourite!

I could go on and on about it, but for now I’ll go over my personal picks for a Top 10, which may give some insight into what about the way the series ticks makes it so enthralling.

Without further ado, let’s jump in! I’m not ordering them by preference, but rather the Episode order as I watched them on my DVDs (tediously the ep listings never seem to be consistent :T) Spoilers for all eps covered! ✂

Winged Assassin

Starting off my Favourites is the 2nd episode of the whole show, featuring a good condensed version of the events of Ep 1 if ya missed it and probably the best explanation on the workings of Retrometabolism that canon media is ever gonna grant us. The plot is fairly straightforward, but what elevates this is the aforementioned Exposition, which feels more organic than it did last episode, the interactions between Scarlet and Blue, and even the shocking twist at the ending, where the mission that had been going so well falls at the very last hurdle, in spite of Spectrum’s best efforts.

One of the most chilling visuals in the series is a surfaced shard of a downed passenger plane floating up from the sea, before the camera pans out to show the duplicated plane flying through the air, and another dark shot later on, of Scarlet’s limp hand with blood running down after he died in the effort to prevent the massive explosion that occurs regardless.

Winged Assassin sets a lot of standards of things to follow; traits like massive collateral damage just as part of the Mysteron’s grander scheme, the close partnership of Scarlet and Blue, Scarlet’s seldom used Sixth Sense and even the occasional downer ending, where the Mysterons manage to sneak a victory in and actually kill or destroy their stated target.

White as Snow

This episode shines a very interesting light on the dynamics between Col. White and Scarlet. It’s obviously one of a superior giving orders most of the time, but in a twist from the somewhat strict nature of Jeff Tracy over his sons who show respect to their father by not arguing back, with these two there’s actually the occassional spark of friction, that Scarlet will voice when he doesn’t like the commands and will only reluctantly go through the motions in the situation. I’m referring mostly to the first Mysteron attack, where a satellite is on a collision course with Cloudbase, but Scarlet unsubtly opposes the plan as there’s the possibility of innocent people on board who would get killed if Spectrum shot it down first. However, he’s overruled... and it turns out that it was indeed a trap, the people on board had been exploded hours ago and what was shot down was a Replicant copy. And that’s just the first half of the episode! But I find it interesting that again, back in Thunderbirds, the call to not remotely destroy something like that on the offchance it was populated would be the Correct course of action, but in this show pragmatism is needed, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

Anyway, the episode has another Mysteron attack aboard a submarine, with plenty of tension... but yet, there’s something of a comedic bend to the episode, such as a furious White shouting at the currently dead Scarlet, much to the Naval crew’s confusion, and the scene at the end which I’ve taken the picture from. The weakest part of the episode is probably Blue in charge of Cloudbase, as he doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing and I feel they coulda done more with him. Oh well! At least we got the fantastic music insert, which is also titled White as Snow.

Operation Time

Probably ranking in my Top 3, Operation Time is pretty remarkably both one of the most tension filled... yet an extremely funny episode. I guess some of that’s just due to my own odd sense of humour, though some moments are clearly intentional. Both the operation scenes, the Mysteron’s pursuit of the Doctor, and finally Spectrum chasing the Mysteron!Doctor are all played very suspensefully, and I find myself holding my breath. But then the funny scenes, like everything with Magenta and how hilariously pissy and unsubtle the Fake!Doctor gets leave me in stitches! [pun unintended lol]

I dunno, maybe some of the amusement effect is enhanced by the strong contrast between the scenes. Also we get a very grisly death for the Fake!Doctor and this episode establishes weaknesses for the Mysterons that will come up in future instalments. There’s a lot this ep has to offer, even something of an insight into 60′s medicine (though the series is set in 2068). While an extremely minor point, both the scenes with operations have the pssssshh.....fsssssshhhh sound that I associate with ventilators even though they ain’t being used, what’s up with that? But it’s another thing to add to the Atmosphere so s’all good, man.

Odd that I can’t think of much else to put here, I love it so much but maybe it’s so solid in the couple of things it does that’s all there really is to say? I’m feeling frustrated at how I don’t seem to have written enough for it, but trust me when I say it’s excellent and that it’s absolutely a Must Watch if you’re giving the series a look. (Though again, I’m spoiling each ep covered so uhh... read at your own risk if you’re using this to judge it!)

The Heart of New York

An interesting tale that I’ve actually Heard more than I’ve watched, as the audio adaptation is a free sample on the official Gerry Anderson site! [At least at the time of writing lmao, it’s worth a look anyway. This message was not paid for.]

This story is somewhat unique in that the Mysterons’ plan is pretty tame by their standards. They want to blow up... a Bank. Sure, it contributes to the long game they play, causing disruption and destruction, but compared to the casual massive collateral damage they inflict as part of a more focused murder attempt (again, see Winged Assassin and the passenger plane) this is small potatoes. But still, they end up feeling more moral in this episode than the actual ne’er do wells, a trio of would-be Robbers. These guys are pretty assholish, deliberately using the horrible cosmic war that’s already taken lives in the triple digits to hide behind while they take their pickings from a vault. Captain Black locking these morons in with the explosives feels like poetic justice, that they really did get what they wanted and are punished in kind.

Maybe this feeds the Mysteron’s point, that humans are aggressive, corrupt and selfish... though Colonel White challenges this view at the end of the episode, stating the robbers aren’t indicative of humanity as a whole. The whole shebang is a lot like The Twilight Zone, honestly. All we need is Rod Serling to open and close the episode...

Point 783

This episode is a bit harder to go into depth on, to be honest, it’s not one with a particular gimmic that makes it more memorable, but it’s a very solid ep all the same. There’s still a fair few layers that keep me thinking, like how it seems one of the Methane Trunk drivers had seemingly been Mysterionised offscreen to enable the Mysteron’s main pawns to me made. Then the first attempt to kill the Supreme Commander is thwarted by Scarlet’s (somewhat inconsistant) Mysteron Sense and perspex tubes that take their sweet time to descend and don’t even prioritise the actual target lol

Anyway, the meat of the episode is focused on the guest vehicle, the Unitron implacable unmanned Tank that can be controlled remotely by human operator or programmed to destroy something particular, and it will not stop or slow down no matter what’s thrown at it. Something something Proto-Drone Warfare commentary. The Mysterons’ last big attempt to assassinate today’s dude has one of their Mysterionised guys from earlier become the target, unknown to everyone else until he draws his gun inside the SPV (who even points out the 6th sense didn’t activate!). Scarlet gets shot 3 times but manages to eject himself and the Supreme Commander, which leads to the above scene, which offers a nice, human response.

Mr Supreme Commander later chews Blue out as it emerges instead of Scarlet going to a Hospital within 10 minutes, Spectrum insisted on waiting for one of their Helicopters to pick him up, which took 3 hours. Poor Blue has to try reassuring the army guys that Scarlet will be fine, truuuuust hiiiim. It makes me wonder if Spectrum is making things easier or harder overall by keeping his Retrometabolism under their hats, though I can understand they’d have reservations, but just trying to gloss over it with a ‘no no, it’s fine, he’ll get better.’ type answer doesn’t seem all that convincing. But I enjoy that it’s semi challenged here. And this episode summary ended up longer than expected cause all the Thinking I’ve done, haha!

=======

This has gotten a lot longer than expected and will be Two Parts! Find the second half here~

[venus-says]

Futari wa Pretty Cure Max Heart Episodes 25-47

Light and Darkness are more alike than you think.

I know, I broke the promise I made last time, but as you can guess things didn't work the way I wanted so I couldn't put this out earlier. But that doesn't really matter that much because I'm here, and this finale was amazing, and I'm more in love with this series than I ever was and this is what matters!

After this first paragraph is not a surprise if I say that I enjoyed this second half of Max Heart. Writing this post will be a little hard for me without being way too repetitive from what I wrote for the first half because this is a pretty solid season and most of my feeling from the first half got carried away through here. The show kept on an amazing level of quality all the way through and the way they slowly started to escalate things to culminate in such a high point at the finale didn't leave that much room for a very low or very high point that needed to be discussed on a certain way that I already haven't touched on the first post.

I have barely anything negative to say about this part, but I did have a few nitpicks here and there that don't necessarily ruin my experience or anything but that were things that got me thinking about in the afterward that I feel like I need to discuss about briefly just so these thoughts can leave my head.

My first problem and the only one that is exclusive to this part is, surprise surprise, Lulun. I feel like Polun gets a bad reputation for having a somewhat rough start in season 1, but trust me, Polun is amazing, it's Lulun who -is the problem. And Lulun is a problem for two major reasons, the first one is that she's kinda useless, like, yes the show gives her a purpose but it's not something that could've been done for Polun, for example. I feel like if Lulun was written out with Polun inheriting her powers very few little of the show would change, Polun would lose those episodes where he learns about siblings love but then those wouldn't be necessary since he wouldn't have a sister and they could use that time to work with something else for him. And the other reason why she ends up becoming a problem is the fact that, different from her brother, she didn't get any development, she ended the show more or less the same as how she was introduced so there's very little to remember about it that isn't her crying and clinginess.

My next two points are kinda intertwined and they aren't specifically related to this portion of the story but for the season as a whole. I got a problem with the Heartiel and with how they just appeared whenever the show thought it was the time. The point I made in the first post about liking them remains, but it was really awkward how this was supposed to be a quest but had no quest element to it throughout the whole season but then the final Heartiel appeared because they "filled a condition" like if it was a quest so... I think they could've written them in a better way.

And this ties in with my problem with the villains, they had a similar quest where they had to watch the Boy in the mansion and make him grow, but they didn't have anything to collect and even if they did it wasn't shown to us so it always felt like the villains attack for the most part were just random, arbitrary, and without a purpose. Of course, after a certain point this wasn't more the case, in fact, after Hikari and the Boy meets for the first time Viblis start to get very overprotective of the kid so she's always ready to go all out if it meant it could keep the Boy safe, but when it comes to Circulas and Uraganos it felt like just tossups that were there just to fill a quota. Yeah, they created a lot of cool and interesting fights, but they felt very lost in the middle of all of this.

My other problem, that is more like a disappointment rather than anything else is the fact that Nagisa's story with Fujipi didn't reach a proper conclusion I feel. Like yes, they had a lot of times where they bonded on the season, and it was great as a side development for Nagisa, but I feel like this story was finished without an end. If they had made this point of the story happen a little sooner and we had the opportunity to see Nagisa actually showing signs that she's more chill about this situation it would've been a more concrete way to feel like this chapter of the book has ended rather than how it happened and it made me feel like the show ended without giving this plotline a proper conclusion.

My final nitpick is that because this is a show that happened at the same pace almost matching with the same time frame of the original show a lot of plots felt reused. Like in this second half only we had the training camp, we had an episode where they helped on a farm, we had Nagisa's birthday, Fujipi's birthday, Christmas, the school trip, the school play, another story of the girls potentially getting apart, and a few lacrosse games that were part of the tournament season I believe. I know that some of these are inevitable to change, and each one of the episodes was different from its "counterpart" from season one so it's not like a blatant copy and paste, but at certain times it gave me that taste of reheated food, which it's not bad on itself but you can still feel the difference from something fresh.

With that being said, I still enjoyed the hell out of this season. As I said, these were nitpickings I had after I already had finished the show and I sit down to think about it and think about what I'd write for this post, not something that took my entertainment or anything like that.

One thing I think this part has done very well was mixing the understand people's feelings theme they had during the first half with the theme of hope that was present through Season 1 in a way that didn't feel weird and inconceivable and without making it feel like it was forced. I'm not gonna lie, I wish that they had stuck only with the understanding theme, but that's just because I was oversaturated by all the talk about hope in Kamen Rider Wizard and I was in need of something different and not a fault of the show itself.

Something tells me I have talked about them in every post about Futari wa, but I couldn't wrap up this series without mentioning how great Akane and Sanae were in this show. I'm gonna sound repetitive but their presence as mentor figures is so strong, I'm so glad the show didn't just forget about them. Even though I feel like they didn't take all the mileage that they could with Sanae, she provided some gorgeous moments that made me feel warm inside. This season was Akane's moment to shine, having her as Hikari's "caretaker" opened up more opportunities for her to appear and all of her interactions that got the chance to go beyond the trivial stuff always yielded fun and touching moments that gave an extra flair to the season.

Putting plot aside for a little bit, it's impossible to talk about Max Heart without mentioning how great the action is. No joke, in almost all episodes of this second batch I've written on my notes "this was a great fight", I don't know what happened in between Season 1 and Max Heart that made the higherups allow for a bigger budget, but you can see that the money was spent on a very good way, especially after episode 40 or so. Watching the Max Heart fights makes you go "YAS, THIS IS WHAT PRECURE IS ALL ABOUT at least in regards to the fighting magical girl portion of the thing XD"

And I think what crowns such a wonderful and memorable season was the ending, those final 4 episodes were magnificent. They deliver on the plot, they deliver on the action, they deliver the hype, they deliver on the characters, it's just awesome. My vocabulary isn't vast enough to describe everything I felt while watching it, it was just like I was in a trance, watching it, absorbing it, being enchanted by it, and becoming an emotional mess. Like, I knew they wouldn't kill Hikari, this is precure deaths don't happen like that, but I was really apprehensive for her during episode 45, and having her "sacrifice" herself in order to revive the queen broke me, especially because I few minutes before Nagisa and Honoka were already punching me with the feels with those scenes of them looking back at moments where they felt desperate but their family was there to give them hope.

And it was also great to see a tradition being born when they started the fight against the Dark King that had possessed Baldez and the power of the people of the city brought the Sparkle Braceletes back and while the fighting was going on they had that very emotional speech that he wasn't fighting just the Precure, he was fighting EVERYONE. Like, I know at this point this is a staple, but seeing the first one happening, after everything that was build up during those 96 episodes, was just EPIC and very hype.

Rewatching Max Heart was magical and even though it irl it was a more bumpy of a road as I would've expected and wanted, I'm very glad I decided to embark on this crazy journey to rediscover this series and deconstruct a lot of silly and shallow thoughts I've carried for years about this show. This can change as a continue to go down on this franchise and I rewatch other seasons but Max Heart has definitely become one of my favorite precure seasons of all time. Pure gold.

The Splash Star post that was due to come out tomorrow will only be released on Friday because of logistic reasons, but before that, I'll release a post on the Max Heart movies that I thought of including here but 1, this post is already very long; and 2, I didn't feel like it belong with the other things I discussed in this post. In any case, thank you all so much for reading through all of this, it means a lot to me. I'll talk to y'all another time. Bye-bye~

[real-sotenbori-hours]

Receive You: The Madtype - Majima Goro x Fem Reader, Part 1

Summary: The year is 2006 in Kamurocho, Tokyo, Japan and our favorite antihero angel, Majima Goro is outta the yakuza and enjoying life, running the Majima Corporation. Though he deals mainly in construction, his [Zero] days always left him nostalgic for nightlife as a member of the service industry and now a proprietor. He owns a nice little karaoke bar, Takara - something low key, offering secluded tables and party rooms, bottle service, two full bars and a Takoyaki stand right out front.  He spends most of his daytime at the Kamurocho Hills construction site and averages a few nights a week at Takara overseeing operations, schmoozing guests (often vendors, permit holders and officials in the construction business) and occasionally slinging drinks when he’s in the midst of a big pitch or, knowing Majima, an itch for theatrics. 👹 

As his top performer at Takara, the money and rush of nightlife aren’t the only perks to your job... if ya know what I mean. 

 Warnings: NSFW, smut, public masturbation, public trysts, profanity/blasphemy, a touch of B&D and a light dash of fluff...

***

 You love tending bar. Especially in a chill place with a solid staff for an incredible owner. Nothing gives you more pride than servin’ up fine drinks to fine customers under the watchful eye of your fine-ass boss. You take great pride in what you do, but that pride blazes like a wildfire when you think of the business patriarch that benefits most from your impeccable work ethic.

 He’s brash, yet charismatic... he’d do anything for the people he cares about. You love that. He’s wild-eyed yet up close, in the thick of peak hours, he’s attentive and spry, always within earshot to lend a hand.

   It’s unnerving. 

 You’ve learned so much from him. You respect him.   

And you please yourself while thinking of him.   

Almost every night you’d get home, plagued by the faint scent of his cologne and the flush you’d feel every time you so much as brushed past him. Every smirk and nod he’d give you, every conversation... some lighthearted and fun and some even more serious, real, emotionally raw... after putting product away and wiping everything down, you’d be sitting there, counting money, bullshitting and at times, venting. You bonded.

   You figured that over time the more you got to know him, the easier it’d be to shake your insatiable thirst for him. You figured wrong.

   You’ve never been shy about your sexual appetites, but you like to let it build with a slow burn, like easing into a hot bath. A couple of pointed innuendos here, a couple of genuine yet direct compliments there... just to gauge his reaction.

   The first time you let slip anything flirtatious, he grinned widely and later pressed two fingertips into your lower back just above your ass, whispering against your neck, letting you know he was right behind you, passing you on your right. A warm mist shot through you and you wanted more than anything to grab his hand, to place those very fingertips against you, to let your body tell him what you couldn’t yet find the words to say. You wanted your body to show him what he does to you.

   But ya couldn’t. The nerve wasn’t there, just the desire, festering like an infection. But you could keep waiting... after all, he’s worth it. 

 More than anything in this entire world, you wanted him to dick you down. You wanted him to take you hard, fast, with the hunger of a desert animal. Against a wall, bent over any permitting surface, pressed up to the floor-to-ceiling window of the nearest love motel, or all of the above and then some. You wanted him to fuck you into the mattress and then pull you into his arms, burning your skin with his own. You wanted to fuck him senseless. You wanted to make him feel good. You wanted your name to roll off his tongue as he’d topple over the edge, meeting you there. 

 The more you thought about it, you had to admit that it wasn’t just sex that you were after. If you’re being blunt with yourself, you’re pretty sure that you’re in love with Majima Goro. Sure, you love to fuck and you’re used to feeling intensely for every partner you’ve enjoyed... but this one’s different. Maybe it’s because you know that the Mad Dog of Shimano will never let anyone get close to him, that he guards his vulnerabilities not unlike a junkyard dog, feral and frothing, barely restrained. Maybe you like a challenge.

 Or maybe you just want every bit of him that you can possibly get, and if your heart breaks in the process, so be it. Maybe you just want to let your womanhood decide on this one. 

 You want to show him how deserving he is of unconditional love, support, adoration... you want him to see that his past needn’t define him, lest he prefers it. You want him to have the choice. You want to be the woman that shows him he can love and be loved... and you don’t fucking care what kind of danger that could bring you. You’ve never met anyone like him before and you’ll be damned if you let him slip away without making your affections abundantly clear. If he turns away, at least you’ll know, and you could move on. But it doesn’t seem like he would refuse you...

   At work you’d charm everyone in your path, separating them from inordinate amounts of their yen. You fucking loved it. And you loved how closely Majima took notice... if he only knew how wholesome and loving you are inside, how you yearn to lavish him and only him with every ounce of your true tenderness...

  You were sure he could read your intentions, he had to know how you felt by now. Your pining for him was only growing by the day, by the hour... you weren’t quite sure just how long you could keep yourself from blurting out, “Majima-san, I wanna swallow ya whole!” the next time you were alone with him... but as fortune would have it, you would get your chance sooner than you thought.

 ***

   Arriving at Takara, you’re eager to set up. Glassware clean enough that it sparkles, garnishes so fresh you’d almost think them fake, all chairs perfectly aligned, inviting, boasting of the good times and grand nights to follow. You love making this place shine.

   You turn the booth lights down, set the music and take another look around for anything missing. Realizing that the menus haven’t yet been put out, you head to the back office to retrieve them.

   They sat in a neat stack at the edge of Majima’s desk and as you near them, your heart skips and plunges straight between your thighs. His black leather gloves lie right beside them.

   Fuuuuck... you’ve ached at the idea of feeling them on your skin, in any and every way. You want to be spanked with them, gripped by the hands that fill them, choked, smacked...you want to inhale the scent of them so fucking badly, the scent of leather paired with his skin, his pheromones... Jesus fucking Christ this is too much.

   You sneak your head out of the office door, scanning the room for any sign of life. Satisfied that as you thought, you’re the first to arrive and that no one else is here yet, you allow yourself to get brazen. Besides, the only cameras in the house that work are in the lounge and back of house, it’s how Majima keeps an eye on things throughout shifts so he knows when certain guests arrive or if he’s needed right away. You never questioned it, as any closed door meetings that took place in the back office would surely be of an extremely classified nature and you fully understood that a dummy cam was advantageous for whatever they do back here.

   Double-taking once again, the milliseconds are pounding in your temples, your pulse picks up as you wonder, did he leave his gloves here last night? You couldn’t recall, but suppose it doesn’t matter. He usually comes in after service has begun, so it’s possible he’ll arrive at his usual in-time... so if you do the math once again, this means you are all alone and his gloves are still sitting on the desk, teasing you to indulge yourself.

   Fuck it.

 You glide towards the desk, grabbing the glove closest you. Bringing it to your lips, you inhale, closing your eyes, shuddering... fucking salivating. You wipe the corner of your mouth with your other hand and sigh, taking the glove to your cheek, picturing him stroking you with the side of his leather-clad hand. It really is too much. 

 You lean onto the desk, perching on its corner, widening your seat, slipping your hand down your pants, past your waistband... you’re gonna take this moment to let go... and satiate one of your many fantasies about Majima fucking Goro. You’re too hot to care right now, and this is so much easier than trying to make a move on his fine ass anyway.

   You slip your hand into the right handed glove and get to workin’, rubbing your clit with one hand while fully prepared to slide at least two fingers into yourself when the time—when you— come.

   You start panting, trying hard to keep it quiet in case anyone else is in the building... but the moan escaping your lips is beyond your control. You grab the remaining glove, bringing it to the tip of your nose as you’re nearing the edge already, pressing your leather clad thumb on your clit, you begin to convulse, two seconds away from complete release when you hear the click of familiar steel toed boots striding along... closer and closer.

   You jump off the desk just as you hear the footsteps nearing the back office. Planting the gloves back in their respective place, you immediately grab the stack of menus as the door swings open.

   Trying to catch your breath, trying harder than ever in your life to posture yourself like it’s business as usual, you flip the top menu open and pretend to scour it, making sure it’s updated to reflect this weekend’s features as Majima saunters into the room, casually grabbing the stack of envelopes sitting in the tray hanging on the wall.

    “What’s up, Y/N-chan? Yer here early... place looks great!”

  “I’m glad, Majima-san. Thank ya.”   

He steps towards you, setting the envelopes down on the desk, his glance bee-lining straight to his gloves. Your pulse now shoots right up into your throat. Does he know? No fucking way.

   He chuckles and turns to look at you, appraisingly. As much as you’d relish this moment, you’re on the verge of a heart attack so you try to coolly break the silence, running your finger across the open menu in your hands. “Ah, the menus look good, Majima-san... I was thinkin’ we could start using a gloss card stock instead of regular paper, that way we could wipe them off at the end of the night instead of having to reprint them every other day...”

   He grins widely and tilts his head to the side. “Good thinkin’, Y/N-chan. I love where yer head’s at.”

   You pause... yikes. Can he tell that you’re shaking ever so slightly? Because you definitely feel like you’re sitting atop a washing machine right now.   

“Need a hand? I had all of ‘em reprinted so I can help ya set ‘em out...”  

Jeeeeeesus.  

You gulp. “Nah, I’ve got it covered, Majima-san. I appreciate it.” Right now, you desperately need to put as much distance between the two of you as possible or you’ll never regain your wits. Especially not in time to open to the public. His phone beeps and he pulls it from his jacket pocket, examining it with mild annoyance. You take this as your moment to escape, relieved at the distraction. Stepping back, you restack the menus, preparing to wrap your arms around them in order to fit them all in one hold, in one trip.

   Just before grabbing the tower of menus, he steps closer to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, slowly trailing it down to your lower back. “Mind grabbin’ my gloves fer me? I gotta take care of somethin’.”

  Your breath hitches as your hand shakily reaches for the black leather demons a foot away from you, taunting you to keep your cool. You grab them, wincing as he leans into you to meet your grasp, giggling. His cologne wafts before you, leaving you tingling, intoxicated. If you moved forward an inch, your lips would be at the nape of his neck.

   You feel like you’re gonna pass out. In the name of all that is holy, you just want him to take you against the wall and consume you in every way he sees fit. You want him to hurt you, as nothing hurts more than a desire that burns so fervently with no action. You feel like it’s killing you.

   He pulls away, still standing within a foot of you, his gaze still locked into yours. He slips each hand into each glove slowly, deliberately, all the while keeping unblinking eye contact. He reaches forward and quickly pinches the apple of your cheek with catlike speed, chuckling.

   “Alright, I’m outta here. Back in a bit, Y/N-chan!”

   He turns on his heel and as quickly as he appeared, vanishes.

   You’re panting like you just won the world championship for Hide-and-Seek. Fuck, that was close. You take one more deep breath, collecting the menus into your fully outstretched arms as you make for the door when this time, your heart actually stops.

   A sharp, tiny red light stares back at you, right where you’re standing, just above the door. Since FUCKING WHEN does the back office camera work?!  

Fuck, fuck, fuck...

 ***

 I set out to write this and I am not sorry for where my mind went. So unapologetic in fact that Part 2 is almost complete and I’ll be uploading it very shortly, alongside Part 1 of another Majima fic & Part 3 of my Loki fic, MATM... lemme know if you wanna be tagged in any of my Yakuza fics, for they are APLENTY! xxxxo <3

[ontherockswithsalt]

A Made Man

/1/ /2/ /3/ /4/ /5/ /6/ /7/ /8/ /9/ /10/ /11/ /12/ /13/ /14/ /15/ /16/ /17/ /18/ /19/ /20/ /21/ /22/ /23/ /24/ /25/ /26/ /27/ /28/ /29/ /30/ /31/ /32/

A/N: These kinds of chapters are harder to write than you’d think! But very fun. Everyone is an idiot and I love them all. Enjoy the bowling.

Chapter 33.

"Lowest score…" Bianca muses, leaning over in her plastic chair as she ties her red and blue bowling shoes. "Has to sing karaoke."

"What?" I scoff without even looking back at her while I work to enter everyone's names for the scoreboard.

"Where the hell do you think you're singing karaoke tonight?" Noble wonders.

"At a gay bar called Mary's over on Waverly--"

"Whoa, wait a minute." I turn in my seat to hold out one hand while Vinny lets out a loud laugh beside me.

Bianca manages a pleading grin. "Come on."

"We're not going to a gay bar, Belle."

She opens her mouth as if she's never been so let down. "Why not? They’re fun. Haven't you always wanted to?"

With a shake of my head, I have to laugh down at the screen where I'm typing. "Not particularly."

"Hey, I'm down," Vinny offers. "Plus, I'm gonna win anyway so I need to see Reagan on that mic."

Tilting my head, I narrow my gaze at him. "Oh, you're down? Give me a break."

"What?" He shrugs. "A bar is a bar. You're telling me you're all uptight about it?"

"I'm not uptight," I insist.

"I can almost guarantee we wouldn't see anyone we know there." Bianca points out as she gets to her feet. "Nick, didn't you say we've gotta keep a low profile? It's perfect."

"Karaoke at a gay bar is the opposite of a low profile," he argues.

"Not when we're talking about the kinda people who may know us."

With folded arms, Noble shifts his gaze to me. I simply meet it with this look of resigned acceptance because whatever, it's Bianca's trip here and there's no use trying to keep a firm grip on what happens tonight. She'll just fight it even harder.

He moves away to the ball return and glances over at her. "How gay are we talking here?"

"Oh please!" She scoffs with a laugh. "Since when do you care? Although…" Then she pauses and points a look and an arched eyebrow at me.

I turn my head, confused. "What?"

"Jamie will be like shark bait over there, so just be prepared."

Noble spreads his hands. "You think I don't know that?"

"Wait, what does that mean?"

"The crowd there--" Then she waves her hand in front of me. "Will just… be a fan."

Pointing to myself, I shake my head. "Oh I'm not singing."

"Not a fan of your singing, Jamie." She clarifies. "Don't play dumb."

I check with Noble because I still don't get it.

"Because you're hot, dude," he informs me. "That's all."

"Oh." My gaze shifts as I consider it. Then I stand, making a point to broaden my chest as I offer my boyfriend a smile. "We should go then, man."

With a start, Noble juts out a fist into my arm. "Little shit."

Chuckling, I return the jab at his shoulder and pivot away.

"Whoa." Vinny looks to Bianca with an insulted pull of his brows. "You saying the crowd won't be a fan of me?"

I watch the way she smirks as she turns to him. "Depends on how good of a singer you are, I guess."

"Oh I won't need to sing," he remarks, gesturing up above to the scoreboard with our names. "Because according to that, I'm gonna be on top."

She plants her hands on her hips and blinks up at the screen. "I don't know how that'll work when I'll be the one on top tonight."

"Ayee--" Vinny blows out an amused, weary groan and turns away to Bianca's giggles.

"I feel like you guys aren't talking about bowling," Noble ponders.

Vinny points to her. "Hey, I don't know about this one. Your sister told me to keep myself in check. But--”

"Well listen," Noble cuts in. "That's a bullshit bet, Belle. Because you'll sing karaoke regardless."

"Lowest score has to sing,” she amends. “Winner gets to pick the song.”

"Alright, can we play?" I cut in, heading for my ball to take the first turn.

Noble slants a knowing smile at me. "Look who wants to get to the bar to see how popular he is with the West Village crowd."

"Excuse me," I tease, reaching across where my fingers grip the bright red ball I had picked on the way over. I lift it out of the rack, and with a subtle grunt, make a show of straining my biceps as if I'm using the ball for a set of curls.  

"Don't hurt yourself," Noble quips.

I meet his teasing gaze. "My name's first and I'd like to get this game started."

"Do we all agree on the bet?" Bianca calls out.

"Yes, it's a bet," I concede, along with everyone else's acquiescence.

"Alright, let's see it, Reagan," Vinny decides. "Make the Twelfth look good."

Positioned behind the lane, I turn to hold out one arm and look at him. "I do that everyday, man."

"Oh jeez," Vinny groans. "He's in rare form tonight."

Amused by his heckling, I fix my focus on the lane's target arrows, take my approach and send the ball down the lane. I watch it charge towards the pins where it crashes against them, toppling over all but four.

"That's alright," Noble calls out, offering an unnecessarily loud clap of his hands. "You looked cute, at least. And that's important."

Backtracking to retrieve my ball, I shake my head at him to resist a smile. "You're gonna regret that kinda talk this early in the game," I warn him.

He fakes this clueless look. "I'm being supportive."

Firmly grasping my ball once more, I position myself to take the spare. With a few solid steps, I send the ball hurtling down the lane once again before it misses the remaining pins completely and disappears behind the pin deck.

With a hard smack of my palms, I turn away, clenching my fist in frustration only to laugh at myself. "The first frame's a throwaway turn," I insist to Vinny who's cracking up at me.

"Man, look at that," Noble muses. "Right through that empty space. If the object were to throw it in the exact same place you threw the first one, this would be your game."

I come closer to him. "Watch it."

"But on the second turn," he goes on, the corner of his lips quirking when he looks at me. "You wanna aim for the ones you missed the first time."

"Ohh…" I lift my chin to play along. "I see."

"Damn Reagan," Vinny shouts. "What if those pins had been an armed perp?"

"Well the next time we take out a perp with a bowling ball, I'll let you aim."

"Shake it off," Noble offers as he takes his orange ball to the approach for his turn.

He lines up, steps to the foul line as he swings his arm and fires the ball down the lane. It's a swift defeat of all ten pins.

"Nice," Vinny approves.

Noble turns, pumping a flexed arm at his side, then points up at the screen above to note the giant X celebrating his strike. "See you're supposed to knock them all down. Rather than just… six--”

"Go get me another damn drink," I instruct him.

He sets an amused smirk on me and I don't miss the flash of his eyes, the twitch of satisfaction at his cheek. "I can do that for you." Leaving me with a slap on the back, he passes by and heads to the bar.

"Okay, me!" Bianca announces as she hops up to grab her neon purple ball. After a little hesitation deciding her approach, she flings the ball forward where it arcs across the lane.

"No, you dumb fuck!" She shouts, crouching down to watch it dump right into the gutter there at the end.

Both Vinny and I sputter a laugh, more for her performance than her gutter ball. I'm just glad the kids birthday party that was here earlier had made its way out and the bowling alley had shifted to service only the late night adult idiots like us.

Bianca finishes off her turn with an exasperated groan over another gutter ball she barely even tried to throw straight.

"First frame's a throwaway, right?" She reminds us.

"There you go." Vinny takes his place for a turn. "I'm not gonna lie. I haven't bowled since I was like ten, so--"

"Oh now with the excuses," Bianca teases. "What happened to being on top?"

"I thought that was you," he calls back, slanting a smile her way over his shoulder.

"I don't know," she laughs, peering up at the scoreboard. "It's not looking good for me."

He pulls back as he takes his steps, releases the ball with a forceful swing and it barrels right into the sweet spot to send down every single pin.

"Goddammit." I mutter the curse.

Vinny turns with a firm clench of one arm. "Ha! You see that?"

"Haven't bowled since I was ten," I mimic him, shaking my head.

He spreads his arms like he doesn't have an explanation. "I guess some people know exactly where to hit it, Reagan." As he passes by, he grips my shoulders hard and pats me there before he moves back to his chair beside Bianca.

"Really?" I arch a critical brow at him and his smug face. "That's not what I've heard."

"Listen, six," he retorts, pointing his beer bottle at me. “One day you’ll get there.”

Noble returns with a new drink for me while he takes a look at the score and gives Vinny a nod of approval. "Oh nice."

"You like that, Nick?"

Downing some of my cocktail with a hard swallow, I decide, “Okay, I’m playing for real.” Then I set the cup on the table and move to get my ball for another turn.

Taking an extra moment to set my focus down the lane, my steps carry me forward and with a perfectly controlled swoop of my arm, I propel the ball down the center.

It crashes all ten pins down for a strike.

"There he is!" Noble shouts. “Coming alive in the second frame.”

Just as my X spins across the screen in animated graphics, the bowling alley darkens to a neon glow, eliciting a lively howl of approval from the surrounding lanes. Black lights make the pins purple, the retro designs along the wall shine in greens and pinks and disco strobes cut across the floor. The opening beat of Need You Tonight by INXS thuds the speakers surrounding us.

“Oh, it’s a game now,” Vinny announces.

And for a while, it’s anybody’s to win. Noble keeps his lead for a few frames until I catch up. It shakes his confidence and he has an off couple of turns. Meanwhile, Vinny’s initial strike proves to be a fluke when he bombs pretty much every subsequent frame.

Halfway through the game, I have to laugh at the scoreboard. “This is looking bleak, partner,” I inform him when his score hasn’t gone anywhere and Bianca trails behind him by merely two points. “What happened to knowing where to hit it?”

From his seat, Vinny hangs his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking with his amusement. “Maybe bowling’s not my game,” he decides.

I step up and grip my ball. “Bella, I need you to take him down,” I tell her. “Because I’ve always wanted to hear him sing and I need to decide on the perfect song.”

“Yes!” Bianca drags out the approval, then taps her fist on Vinny’s knee. “I’m excited.”

“I’m terrible, but you’re worse,” he admits, pointing his thumb to her shoulder and she turns her face to crack up there. “So I’m safe so long as you keep throwing them in the gutter.”

"I have a strategy!" She insists.

“Oh yeah?” He laughs. "How’s that working out for you?” But then they both seem to turn their attention to the fact that the deejay just started playing Michael Jackson’s PYT and the two of them just wind up dancing in their seats.

I shake my head, amused and move over to take my turn. This time I knock down eight, but follow it up with the spare which puts me ahead of Noble.

When I back up to look at the score, I push my fist against Noble’s shoulder and dig my teeth into my lower lip in satisfaction. “Tell me it hurts just a little bit,” I say, then gesture to my chest. “I need to hear it.”

In the pink and violet lights, he grins at me and it’s damn attractive. “I bet you do need to hear it.”

My gaze follows him as he comes closer. We’ve never really been out with a group, as a couple and there’s still some uncertainty between us when it comes to how much we’re allowed to act like it.

I tilt my face down as he leans into my ear and murmurs, “You look really fucking cute tonight and I love you and I just needed you to know that.” Then he eases away, scratching the back of his head and adds, “And it hurts a little bit” as he gets ready for his turn.

Lifting my gaze to him, I thankful for the dim lights because I can feel the color in my cheeks when I shoot him a wordless look and press my lips together. Goddamn, he so easily prompts this heat that dips in heavy loops inside me that I still never anticipate.  

“Don’t get used to that lead, though,” he says, pointing up to the score as he heads for his ball.

[powerfulfabray-blog]

Pillow forts and conversations - Fabrevans

WHO: Sam Evans @greeneggsandsamevans​ & Quinn Fabray @powerfulfabray​

WHERE. Sam’s pillow fort.

WHEN. February 17th

WHAT. Quinn and Sam ‘watch’ a movie.

WARNINGS. .

To say Sam was nervous would be an understatement. He spent the day trying to make sure everything was in its place, that he had everything he could possibly need, and that everything was perfect. He didn’t know why he was acting like a total maniac. I️t was just Quinn. Only that was just the thing. I️t was Quinn. He wanted to impress her, he really did. He created a fort, hung lights, made sure her favorite snacks were available and had his laptop ready with movies to choose from. So he got himself situated, giving his pillow fort one last look before he went downstairs to wait for her arrival. It took Quinn hours to get ready, getting ready always took her long, but this time it seemed to take even longer. She just wanted to look perfect. Show Sam that she was perfect. Although she wasn’t anywhere near perfect, she could still pretend. Deep down she knew that for Sam, she could still look like a local trash bag and he wouldn’t even mind. Once she was ready, she made her way to his house, quite excited to spend some quality time with Sam. Deep down, she didn’t even mind what movie they were going to watch, because she was sure Sam would try his hardest to make sure Quinn was having a wonderful time. When she finally made it to Sam’s house, or at least, what she remembered to be his house, she made her way to the door and knocked on it. Waiting patently for him to open up.

Sitting on his couch, Sam was playing a game on his phone when he heard a knock at the door. He took a deep breath, standing up and heading to the door. Swinging it open, he greeted her with a wide smile. But man did she look pretty.. “Hey,” he breathed out, his goofy grin evident on his face. “Come in, me casa es su casa.” He stepped aside, allowing her to enter. 

“Hey.” Quinn spoke softly, not being able to hide the confusion on her face, me who? “I have to say I’m quite excited.” She smiled, putting her hand on his back as she walked past him to enter the house. “So, did you really build a pillow fort?” She asked, with a quite excited smile on her face. She loved the idea of being able to act like a ‘child’ again and forget about her issues. That was what she loved about hanging out with Sam, he could make her forget.

“One step at a time, Ms Fabray,” he chuckled, shutting the door behind her and following close behind. He stopped at the staircase, motioning for her to follow. “I should warn you, I may have went a little overboard..” He began walking up the stairs, his palms sweaty as they neared his room. He took a deep breath and opening his door, revealing the most intricate pillow fort. The glowing lights shining through the sheets. “Your castle awaits,” he smiled.

“Oh my god, Sam...” Quinn chuckled once her eyes fell on the pillow fort. She could tell he took his time to build it. “This is great.” She said, quite excitedly as she walked towards the entrance of the fort. It looked so cozy and cute. “I’ve always wanted to be a princess, now I finally got my castle.” Quinn smiled, making her way ‘into’ the fort, and sitting down between the pillows. “You’re the best.”

Sam internally did a fist pump, thrilled that Quinn seemed pleased with his work. “It’s sturdy too, I made sure of that,” he chuckled as he followed her in, taking a seat next to her and grabbing his laptop. “I try,” He chuckled at the comment of him being the best. He tried. He really did. “So, it’s between Captain America: The Winter Soldier, or Antman. I personally like Captain America, but i think you’d find Antman more enjoyable.”

Quinn leaned into him , resting her head on his shoulder to see the screen, but mainly to just rest on his shoulder. “It’s up to you. I haven’t seen either, but if you prefer Captain America, then let’s just go with it.” she said with a smile on her face as she looked up to Sam, from his shoulder, trying to see his reaction.

His eyes practically sparkled as she agreed with Captain America. “Yes, okay, cool. You’re going to love it, I promise,” he typed in a few things into his computer before finally pressing play. “If you get bored, let me know and I’ll put something else on. I know superhero movies aren’t for everyone.”

Quinn loved the sparkle in his eyes, “I know, but hey, I have something to prove, that I can stay awake during superhero movies, so I will.” She was quite passionate about this, something this small. She just wanted to prove him she could stay up, although, she knew deep down it would probably only take 5 minutes. Quinn looked over at Sam once the movie started, him being excited was the cutest thing ever. It made her feel all soft inside. She shifted a bit to make herself sit more comfortable and leaned back into Sam. “I’m holding you to that, and definitely will end up pinching you, so watch out,” he chuckled, draping an arm around her as he settled into his spot. She was so warm, extremely so. He never understood why people called her an ice queen. She was always kind to him. Well.. with a few minor bumps in the road.. But everyone went through things. He understood that. It took Quinn 10 solid seconds to look at the movie before she switched her attention to Sam. She missed Sam. They did talk after their break up, but she missed hanging out with him. He truly did make her feel good. “I missed hanging out with you.” She admitted, “well, actually, I missed you.” Sam was trying to contain his excitement as the movie titles crossed the screen, the classic marvel logo showing. That was until Quinn spoke, breaking him from his trance. “I’ve missed you too, Quinn,” he smiled sweetly, “I feel like.. we haven’t really hung out since, well.. we dated.”

Quinn nodded, “I just always thought you hated me, or something. So I thought it would be best to just keep my distance. “ she shrugged, playing with her necklace. “But at the end of the day, you were the only person that made me feel...good... you know.” “I.. I was upset, Sure,” Sam admitted, looking away for a moment before returning his attention to her, “But I could never hate you, Quinn. I loved you. I wanted you to be happy, even if that wasn’t with me.” “I was happy with you, Sam... I am.” Quinn admitted, “I don’t know what was up with me, but I should’ve never left you.” She sighed, “but anyway, the past is the past, can’t change that. Sadly.” “Hey, no need to explain yourself to me. I won’t question your actions,” he gave her a smile of reassurance, rubbing her shoulder softly. “And that’s true. The past is the past. You can’t change that, but you can always choose your future.” He grinned and looked back to the screen. “Sounds familiar...” Quinn chuckled, leaning her head back on his shoulder as she looked back to the screen, barely understanding what’s going on. “Is he the good or the bad guy?”

Sam rested his head on top of hers, watching the movie with ease and comfort. “Sam Wilson? Fucking Falcon? He’s the best. Now, I may be biased because his name is Sam, but i think he’s up there in my top favorite heroes.”

Quinn giggled, looking up at him. “So he fights like all the bad guys? That’s so awesome. I hope this universe thing will give us some real life superheroes too...” she beamed. Quinn wasn’t a fan of the movies, but she’d love a real life super hero. Sam eyes widened, mouth dropping open. “I never thought about that..” he turned to look at her, “Holy crap.. That would be awesome! Oh man, i hope I run into one of them soon. How cool would that be? I mean, they’d probably try to fit in with their secret identity, but still.”

“I have to admit, I’d be so in for that. Like this super handsome guy, protecting us, or... attacking us...” Quinn got quite excited with the idea, even though she didn’t know that much about it. “I wish we were from another universe... this one kind of sucks.” “As long as he’s not as handsome as me,” Sam teased, thinking about how cool itt would be if they had superhero’s walking around. “I mean.. this one isn’t so bad, yeah? I’ve got a great family, great friends, and.. well, I’m watching my favorite movie with a pretty girl. I️ think I’m good.” Quinn blushed, “Well, sounds like you’re good yes.” She said softly, as she tried to cover her blushing cheeks with her hands. “Wish I could say the same about my life, but yeah, well, at least this moment is good...” she smiled, as she shrugged. “And don’t worry, I don’t think any guy could be as handsome.” “Hey, I mean.. things suck sometimes.. I know that for a fact. My family is finally getting their shit together after everything that we went though, so I get that life doesn’t exactly go as planned,” He was thankful for what he had. His family went through a lot. “Ya think so?” He smiled at her comment, gushing a bit. Quinn nodded, she has always had mad respect for Sam’s family. She loved them. Especially his brother and sister. She pretty much hung out with them all the time back in the days. They felt like her family. “I’m glad to hear you guys have found a way out, Sam. You deserve it.” She nodded, offering him a smile. “And yes, you’re quite hard to beat. Even for a superhero.”

“Maybe I am a superhero, and I’m just in secret identity mode,” Sam gave her silly look, bringing his finger to his lips, “Shush, don’t tell anyone.” Quinn turned her head towards his, raising her eyebrow. “Honestly, with all this crazy shit going on... I wouldn’t even be surprised.” She chuckled, “Actually, now you’re kind of gonna have to prove you’re not a superhero... or are...” “I wouldn’t give myself too much credit,” Sam laughed, “I’ve got the superhero abs and the superhero know-how. But I’m not even close.”

Quinn shifted her gaze towards the screen, for a few seconds, just to look right back at Sam. “You could be my superhero...” She shrugged, chuckling softly.

Sam smiled widely at her comment, feeling a flush creep up his neck. “Oh come on, Quinn,” he brought her closer, rubbing her arm, “You know I’ve always been your superhero.”

Quinn bit her lip, shaking her head. “Well, I cant fight you on that one...” she admitted. He, after all, did kind of fake her away from a dark place. “I’ll be your...” she was silent for s few seconds, trying to come up with a superhero’s love interest.  “Lois Lane...”

“My god, Quinn Fabray, you’re getting more and more impressive by the second, if that’s even possible,” he chuckled, “You’re already super impressive so this is all just an added bonus.” Thank God for the guy that once mentioned Superman next to her on the train. “What can I say... I’ve been practicing a lot.” She teased. “Superman... or should I say... Clark Kent...” Sam’s eyebrows went up at the comparison, corner of his mouth turn up into a small smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on before,” his eyes widened, looking away, “oh my god, did I just say that out loud? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it.” “Yeah, you totally did just say that out loud.” Quinn laughed, leaning the side of her head against  his. “Out of all the topics... superhero talk turns you on.” She chucked, hiding her face in her hands. “Okay, well when you put it like that, yeah that’s weird,” Sam began rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I don’t mean to be weird, I’m sorry.” “It’s not weird, Sammy.” Quinn said, as soon as she noticed it made him feel a bit awkward. “It’s cute. I like it.” She admitted,  putting her arm around his waist to give him some sort of side hug. “At least now I know exactly what to say.” Sam let her come closer to him, wrapping his arm further around her. “Thanks, I guess,” he rolled his eyes with a laugh. God he could really be so stupid. “How do you like the movie so far?” “What movie?” Quinn teased, she hadn’t really seen that much. Most of the time she was either looking at Sam or too distracted. “From what I’ve seen... it’s... pretty cool. “ she admitted, it wasn’t that bad after all. “I just prefer looking at you.” She mumbled underneath her breath.

Sam looked to her with a slightly confused expression. “Why?” He asked. “I mean, Chris Evans is a pretty good looking dude, I figured you’d be into this.” Quinn rolled her eyes, hints truly weren’t Sam’s thing. “He is, yes...” she mumbled, “it’s just that...” how could she explain this as obvious as possible. “I think you’re way more interesting, and even better looking.” “You don’t have to feed my ego,” Sam chuckled, “I’m not Puck. Or that needy,” he smiled at her. “But I appreciate that.. You’re better looking than Chris Evans too.” “I don’t think I would’ve even been here if you were Puck.” Quinn mumbled, the thought of Puck sent shivers down her spine. She couldn’t stand him, not anymore. “Me? Better looking than Chris Evans? Said by you? Well, that must be one big compliment. Im taking it.” Sam couldn’t help but laugh at that, resting his head on top of hers. “He’s too hairy for me. Plus I think he would outshine me in every way possible. Which isn’t a bad thing when it’s a girl, but I don’t want to compete with a guy.” “Oh, Sam, cmon. Outside from the superpowers, he would have no game against you.” Quinn shrugged, placing her hand on his upper leg. “You’d win, any time, any day.” Sam’s eyes flicked down to her hand, feeling his stomach do flips. “You think so?” He looked to her next. Quinn let her thumb rub his leg softly, “I don’t think so.. I know so.” She smiled, “it’s just unfair he has superpowers... but if he hadn’t, he’d be so over.” “I could totally take on preserum Steve Rogers..” Sam said, knowing she probably wouldn’t know what he meant. “Glad you think so..” Who? But she didn’t bother asking, she knew she wouldn’t get it anyway. It was crazy how comfortable she felt, with Sam, and no one else, in this pillow fort. As if it protected them from the crazy outside world, as if they were the only ones on earth right now. Like she could finally let her walls down and just be herself, because she knew no one would judge. “I love this, Sam. All of this. I don’t think I’ve ever felt better.” Seeing the look on Quinn’s face was more than enough for Sam. He knew how rough her life was, he knew how damaged she was, how hurt she’s felt. He always listened to her when she spoke, remembered every detail. She deserved that. “Good, That was the goal,” he smiled. “I must admit that, at first I found the pillow fort idea kind of... insane, but god, I don’t think I’ve ever felt more.. safe.” Quinn beamed, looking up at him. “You truly know how to make a woman feel wonderful and appreciated, Sam.” “I thought I may have over done all of this but..I’m glad everything seemed to come together.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “My mom raised me right,” he chuckled, “Always treat a woman like a queen.” For Quinn, spending time in the fort was even more therapeutical than all the therapy session she has had in her life. For once she felt like her life had some sort of meaning again. The things Sam’s superhero talks could do to her. “Sam...” she whispered softly, placing her hand on his check and leaning into him to give him a soft peck on his lips before leaning back again. Unsure if she had gone too fast or too far, she tried not to break eye contact. Sam was glad that he was able to be the one to take her away from all of the bullshit that the world brought to Quinn. He was happy to be the one good thing in her life that she didn’t have to worry about. When her lips hit his, he was surprised, but not in the slightest bit upset. As she pulled away, he smiled and tilted his head, kissing her back. The feeling of their lips against each other just felt right. As if it belonged that way, was supposed to be all along. Quinn had missed those ridiculously big lips. “I...” she stammered, for once not even being able to say something. When she began to speak, he pulled away slightly, looking to her with worry, “Is this okay?” He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Never. Quinn needed some time to process what just happened. Never in a million years she would’ve thought to sit right here, with Sam, especially not after their nasty break up. “Yeah...” she said, softly, reassuring him with a soft and genuine smile, “I’m just... happy.” She nodded, before she leaned back in to kiss him again. “Good,” Sam let out a breath of relief, “I want you to be happy..” He continued to kiss her, bringing a hand up to cup her face, bringing her closer. This felt right. This felt like how things were supposed to be. Almost as if they had just picked up where they left off. Quinn put her hand on the back of his head and moved back to let her back rest against the pillows behind her, gently moving Sam with her. How did she even manage to go through the days without feeling so peaceful and loved? All she knew was that she didn’t ever want to let this exact feeling go again. She wouldn’t let Sam go again. The feeling of their lips brushing against each other made her feel so soft and fuzzy inside. Almost as a whole other person As he moved with Quinn, he felt his heart beating fast, leaving his mind wandering a mile a minute. He placed his laptop aside, moving his body to hover over her gently. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this. He couldn’t even comprehend what was happening. All he knew was that Quinn was here, and she was happy. That’s all that mattered to him. Whenever they did this back in the days, Quinn would always push him off or just stop. So her taking the lead and not pushing him off, was her own way of showing him she was more than comfortable with him. That she had matured a lot and was ready for something more serious than just high school dating to become more popular. She let her hand slide through his hair and deepened the kiss a bit. If anyone would have told Sam that two years ago, he’d be in a pillow fort with Quinn Fabray, making out while watching Captain America, he would call them nuts. But here they were, and Sam was absolutely ecstatic. He placed a hand on her waist, holding her close. Quinn pulled back for a second, mainly to catch some fresh air. “God, how I’ve missed those lips...” she whispered, offering him a smile. Her hand slid over his back as she took some time to study his face. “I missed you, Sammy.” As she pulled away, Sam looked down at her, smiling at her words. “I could say the same thing,” he was almost certain that he felt the most happy with Quinn. The most alive. She was an angel in his life, whether she wanted to believe it or not. “I missed you too, Q..” he rubbed his thumb over her cheek, smiling softly at her. “Can I ask you something?” Quinn couldn’t hide the smile on her face and gently rubbed her nose against his. ”Sure...” she said, softly, kind of afraid for the question that was coming, although she knew Sam wouldn’t never ask hurtful questions. “What’s it?” Sam swallowed hard, looking at her carefully. He was nervous. So nervous. But this was worth a shot. “Do you want to go out to dinner sometime next week?” He asked, hope laced in his voice. “You can say no, I just figured.. if we’re going to do this again, I want to do it right.” Quinn looked up to him, with bright, shining eyes. "Let me think..." She teased, closing her eyes for a few seconds, pretending to think. "Of course!" She said, quite excitedly. "I would love to!" The blonde tried to tone her excitement down a big, as she didn't want to look like a desperate freak. "As in... A date?" Sam instantly relaxed, happy that she seemed to be completely down with the idea. That was one thing to look forward to now. When she questioned him, Sams eyes widened slightly. “Um.. well, yeah..” He quickly added, “Unless you don’t want it to be a date.” Quinn nodded, "Of course I want it to be a date, Sam." She responded quickly, reaching out for his hand and putting hers on his. "Let's do this all right, this time. No more drama, no more distractions, no more letting other people influence us too much. Just us. You and me." She said as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Her response was everything he needed to hear and more. They both were different people than they were when they first started to date. They were better people. And maybe they deserved to have a second chance. “I’d really like that, Quinn.” “You deserve someone that truly loves you, Sam. Someone that puts all the stars in your sky. I know I wasn’t that person back then, but maybe... maybe I can be that person now.” Quinn said, softly, making eye contact with the handsome guy on top of her. “I really want to... try.” “Well, so do you, Quinn,” sam told her. “You’ve put up with a lot of shit in your life. And none of that was fair. It’s time you stop settling, and.. actually be happy.” A soft sigh escaped Quinn's lips, Sam was right. She spent most of her time despising herself for the mistakes she had made all along, and for letting it all happen. All she ever wanted was to be happy, but everytime she tried to be, life punched her in the face. Deep down she knew another punch had to be coming, because, well, she was happy. Or at least, starting to feel happy. With Sam being back around, and her having to have found a group of friends that seemed like friends for life, it all seemed to finally fall right back in place. "Yeah..." She whispered, playing with his hair. "Maybe I do." “I know you do,” Sam told her, giving her a pointed look. Sometimes it killed him how much she didn’t realize how special she was. He would make sure to remind her of that every second that he could. He sat back down, moving away from her and running a hand through his hair. “Is it hot in here?” Quinn pouted when he sat back down and then followed him, sitting back down as well. "The only remotely hot thing in here is you." She teased, immediately realizing how lame that sounded. "God, that sounded so bad.." She chuckled, rolling her eyes. Sam looked at her with amusement, lips curled into a smile. “Quinn, are you..” he paused, “Are you nervous?” I️t was different to see her like this. But he liked it. "Nervous for what? Our date?" She wondered out loud, giving him a confused look as she shifted a bit, trying to find a comfort in the pillows. Truth was, she was nervous for the date, she just didn't want to fuck this up. “Not just our date,” Sam chuckled, looking at her with a wide smile. “Just.. in general. There’s something different about you,” he noted, “In the best way possible of course.” Quinn shrugged. “I’m just really trying to enjoy life. I guess that, seeing Beth again, really slapped me in the face and made me realize that I shouldn’t give a damn about what other people think of me. Or my reputation. Because at the end of the day the people that really love me will see right through that.” She sighed, leaning back into the pillows. “And when I’m with you, I just feel like I can kind of let my walls down.” As Sam listened to her speak, he nodded softly. She was realizing things, she was growing up. And by no means was he grown up. He had a lot of maturing to do. But maybe they could help each other out. The thought alone sounded nice. “I’m really happy for you, Quinn. Not a lot of people make changes for the better.” He reaches out and took her hand, “Never he afraid of being yourself with me. Please.” A soft smile appeared on Quinn’s face as she heard Sam’s words and looked down at their hands. Truth was, there only were a few people she felt safe enough to be herself with, well, not fully. At home, she always felt like she had to pretend to be better, happier, and smarter. At school she always felt like he had to be meaner, more popular and prettier. With Sam, she felt like she didn’t have to be any better than she was, but she wasn’t going to bombard Sam with her complex feelings and life, yet. She figured it’d be best to just keep a lot to herself, and just go with the ‘im just really happy’. “Yeah...” she whispered, leaning forward to give him a soft kiss on his lips, to kind of try to drag the attention away from the topic, just to pull away and offer him a smile. Sam couldn’t help but feel tingly all over his body when Quinn kissed him. There was always something special about her, about the way she made him feel. He was glad to be getting that feeling all over again. “So, how about we finish this movie?” He wiggled his eyebrows, looking back to the screen before putting an arm around her, bringing her close. “Oh right, that’s what we were doing.” Quinn chuckled, leaning into him and leaning her head on his shoulder. As if she hadn’t fully forgotten what the movie even was about. Well at least she didn’t fall asleep this time, so that was a good thing.

[asreoninfusion]

Clack Week Day 2: Wing

My contrbution to day two of Clack week. Of course I went with wing, because I’m not about to pass up an opportunity for wing kink. xp 

This one is still, uhh, mostly SFW but with suggestive momements, I guess (no parts are touched except for the wing, but the mention of boners comes up lol). It’s mainly fluff and cuteness again. I’m going to give myself cavities at this rate with how sweet the boys are being all the time.

Zack ran his hand through Cloud’s hair as Cloud stirred. There were dim cracks of light just starting to seep in past the curtains – morning, then, but still early.

“Hey,” Zack said. “Feeling better?”

Cloud groaned quietly and buried his face into Zack’s chest. “I have a killer crick in my neck. I thought we swore off falling asleep on sofas.”

Zack chuckled. Cloud had recovered enough to regain his sarcastic sense of humour – that was a good sign. He wouldn’t even complain that Cloud had been the one using him as a pillow the whole time, and Zack’s arm felt like it would be numb for days.

Cloud gave a shuddering sigh, and his newly mutated wing twitched and stretched against the coffee table. Cloud froze.

“It’s okay,” Zack reminded him. “It’s just the same as Sephiroth and Genesis and Angeal have, remember?”

“Right,” Cloud agreed blandly.

“It’s a good thing. Probably means you have the potential to be just as powerful at them! Not everyone gets wings, after all. You’ll be promoted to First for sure.”

“I know.”

Zack cupped Cloud’s face, guiding his gaze up until their eyes met. “It doesn’t make you a monster. Never has and never will.”

Cloud flushed and looked away. After a good night’s sleep and plenty of cuddles, his meltdown the previous night seemed… a bit of an overreaction. Zack was right. The three elite Firsts all had wings, he had known it was a possibility. It had just been unexpected, to come back from the labs with an entire extra limb.

Zack peered over at the wing. It was a touch worse for wear – Cloud had thrashed quite a bit, maybe clawed at it a little in his panic.

“You feel okay, right?”

Cloud made a non-committal noise, neither confirming nor denying. “It’s… weird. I can feel it. It’s a little tender, I guess; the wing, and my shoulder too. But yeah, I’m okay.”

“Can you move it?” Zack sounded more curious than anything, now.

Cloud stretched his wing out; lifted it a little. He watched it move with fascination. “Guess so.”

“That’s a start!” Although he was trying to sound encouraging, Zack couldn’t quite stifle the yawn that made its way out. He shifted beneath Cloud’s weight. There really was a reason they’d said no more sleeping together on couches. “Well, how about we move somewhere more comfortable for a while? Then when it gets to a sensible time for existence, I’ll call Seph and see what he can tell us about wing care and shit, yeah?”

“No!” Cloud immediately flushed at his sudden outburst. “I mean—I don’t know if I want anyone else to know about this just yet.”

“Cloud… it’s okay. Seph ain’t gonna judge, Mr. One Winged Angel and all.”

Cloud made a face. “Exactly. His wing is so… majestic. This thing looks pathetic in comparison.”

“Aww, that’s not true!”

“It’s all small and runty.”

“No way. It might be smaller than Seph’s, but honestly, Seph is overcompensation city anyway. You don’t want one that size. You might think it looks all majestic and shit, but trust me, I have seen him constantly knocking stuff over with that wing.”

At least that got a wry grin out of Cloud. Zack beamed and loosely wrapped his arms around Cloud’s bare waist (the wing would make shirts difficult until Cloud would get extras properly tailored) before continuing.

“And if your wing looks a little dishevelled now, it’s just ‘cause you’ve been through a lot. It’ll look great with a bit of preening and TLC.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start with looking after something like this,” Cloud sighed.

“No problem. We can ask the others, or if you’re not up for that just yet, we can muddle through ourselves. Want me to give it a shot?”

“Now?”

“Sure, if it’ll make you feel better about the whole thing. And the guys have said it feels pretty nice as well, so win win, right?”

Cloud hesitated. He hadn’t wanted anyone touching the wing at all before, but… he’d calmed down a lot now, and this was Zack.

It only took him a moment to decide. “Okay. That sounds good.”

“Alright. Let’s move to the bedroom so you have room to stretch out.”

They both reluctantly got up, stretching out the various kinks and cramped muscles that had resulted from a night spent piled together on a couch that was distinctly too small for two adult men. As soon as Cloud got into the bedroom, he flopped stomach-first onto the bed with a sigh.

Zack fought back a smile. Cloud was cute when he was sleepy. Cute all the time, really, but especially when sleepy. His new wing stretched out over the covers – Cloud took up nearly the whole bed like that.

Zack crawled onto the bed to join him. Cloud’s wing was right in front of him… even if a few feathers were out of place, and it was a little dulled by the dried remains of mako and gods knew what other questionable liquids from the labs, the wing was still incredibly pretty. Mostly white, but with a faint silver shine to the feathers. He got the feeling they would absolutely glisten in sunlight.

He was staring; he’d always been fascinated by the wings some of the other SOLIDERs sported. He shook himself out of it.

“First things first, how about a damp washcloth to wipe that wing of yours down? It’s kinda… sticky.”

Cloud made a vaguely affirmative noise, face muffled into a pillow. Zack went to fetch the required implements. When he returned with washcloth in hand, Cloud was already half dozing.

Zack grinned to himself and got to work. He kept his touch light at first, not sure how sensitive Cloud would be. Cloud only sighed at the contact.

Wiping away the mako and gunk was the least fun part, so Zack work steadily through it. He only interrupted to get Cloud to roll onto his side and spread the wing behind him so Zack could access the underside.

“Done,” Zack announced.

Cloud’s wing gave a little shiver, as if trying to get rid of the excess water (okay, maybe Zack had got a little sloppy towards the end), and then fluffed out. Zack was delighted.

“Oh man, it looks so soft!” he said, eyes gleaming with adoration. The wing had the same kind of downy softness as Cloud’s hair, and Zack had to fight back a deeply ingrained instinct to ruffle. Ruffling would not go down well. Preening, on the other hand… “Can I touch?”

“Hnn.” It seemed to be permission.

Cloud rolled back onto his front, and Zack leaned over to gently card his fingers through Cloud’s feathers. Ohh. They really were soft.

Cloud gave another sigh, more pronounced this time, and shuddered a little at the touch. But it didn’t seem to be in a bad way. In fact, as Zack continued to work his way along Cloud’s wings, righting all the feathers and stroking them into place, Cloud seemed to melt into the mattress.

Zack’s heart swelled. Just being so close to Cloud, the casual intimacy… the fact that Cloud was already comfortable enough to let him do this, even though he’d been distraught about the wing just last night.

“Cloud… I really love you.”

Cloud cracked a sleepy eye open. “Huh? What brought that on?”

“I don’t know. Just being close to you.”

“…you’re being sappy again, aren’t you?”

Zack leaned down and blew a raspberry on the small of Cloud’s back in retribution for his sass. Cloud squirmed and gave a small yelp.

Grinning, Zack turned the raspberry into an actual kiss, working his way up Cloud’s spine. He kept preening the wing as he did so; he was learning where Cloud liked a little bit more pressure, and so far he’d found one or two spots that made Cloud moan softly when he pressed firmly against them.

“Aahh,” Cloud breathed, a noise that sounded like pleasure.

“See, that’s nice, right?” Zack said. Though he hardly needed to ask. “Like a massage.”

“Mm,” Cloud hummed in agreement.

Zack kisses turned a bit firmer when he got to the back of Cloud’s neck; he might have nibbled a little. All the while still working his fingers through those soft feathers.

“Hah… Zack.”

Zack gave him one more kiss. “Roll over onto your side again, I’ll preen the underside of the wing for you.”

Cloud didn’t respond immediately. He seemed like he was blushing a little. But then, slowly, he rolled over. The wing curled up, then flared out behind him, exposing the other side.

Zack trailed his fingertips lightly against the join where wing met flesh. He pouted, and Cloud didn’t fail to notice.

“What’s wrong?” Cloud sounded concerned.

“This is gonna make it hard for me to be the big spoon anymore,” Zack said.

Cloud snorted, his worry immediately fading. “Don’t worry, I’ll spoon you instead.”

“Shush, you. I like to have a variety of choices for spooning positions.”

“Whatever,” Cloud said, but he was smiling as he closed his eyes and went back to dozing.

Or trying to doze. It was easier to see Cloud’s face in this position, and Zack watched his boyfriend’s expression while he started carding his fingers through the feathers again. This side seemed to be a little more sensitive – Cloud twitched every so often, eyebrows knitting together and lips parting in a soft ‘oh’.

Zack might have been concerned he was hurting Cloud, but he knew that face. And it was not a face of pain.

He found a good spot to dig his fingertips against, and Cloud moaned. Zack might have bought it just being a platonic, massage type of pleasure, if he hadn’t seen the way Cloud’s hips rolled as well. There was the little bite of his lip, and that expression that Zack most commonly saw when dicks were being touched.

“So. ‘Feels good’, huh?” Zack said cheekily.

Cloud cracked an eye open again to glare half-heartedly. He glanced away, a little embarrassed but sincere. “I like it when you touch me. Wherever it is.”

“Mmhm. And the wing?”

“It’s… new. Sensitive. I don’t know. Feels nice when you preen it.”

Armed with that knowledge, Zack was hardly about to stop preening. In fact, he only redoubled his efforts.

“How sensitive?” he asked, fingers stroking firmly through Cloud’s feathers.

“Nn…”

“How hard are you right now?”

“Zack!” Cloud protested, flushing a little. “…I don’t know. Half hard, maybe. It’s not like a sex thing – it’s not, don’t look at me like that – it just feels good, and it’s you, so…”

“Do you think you could cum from it?”

“I don’t—you’re not—damnit, Zack.”

Zack kissed Cloud on the nose, grinning. It was adorable when Cloud got flustered.

“No. I don’t think I can, it’s not that intense.” Cloud paused. “It might be fun… just to spice things up a little. When we were doing other things.”

“Oh?” Zack kissed Cloud on the lips this time. He kept one hand buried in the feathers, and the other he trailed lightly down Cloud’s stomach and to his hip.

Cloud kissed Zack a few more times, but they were gentle, unhurried kisses. He took Zack’s wandering hand and pulled it away. “It’s like five a.m. You can play later.”

“Aw, Cloud.”

Cloud shot him a wry smile. “The lab said I get the day off today, what with the whole wing thing. You can probably wrangle the time off to look after me too. That means we can lie in.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Cloudy.” Lie ins were a coveted luxury in the military lifestyle.

“And if I wake up with a morning wood… you can help take care of it.”

“Done,” Zack agreed. For the time being, he simply curled up against Cloud, holding him in a loose embrace.

Cloud rested his forehead against Zack’s and sighed, melting against him. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what? The preening? ‘Cause I am more than happy to do that. Any time you want.”

Cloud huffed a laugh, then his expression turned more serious. “No. For… being here. It’s going to take a bit of getting used to, but you’ve made this whole thing a lot more bearable.”

Zack smiled, though his eyes remained serious with sincerity. “Aww, of course. I love you, Cloud.”

That wrangled a smile out of Cloud too. “You’re a dork. But I love you too.” He paused to think for a moment. “Want to see if the wing works as a blanket?”

“I would love that,” Zack said emphatically.

Cloud grinned and lightly elbowed Zack, but he lifted the wing and settled it over the top of them both anyway. It wasn’t big enough to act as a proper blanket, but Zack seem thrilled regardless.

“Ahh, it’s so soft and warm…”

“Dork,” Cloud repeated.

They kissed again, and neither of them could even tell who initiated it that time. Gradually they both dozed off, and this time Cloud slept far more restfully than his previous troubled night. He was wrapped in Zack’s arms, warm and safe in his bed, and, wing or no wing, Cloud feel asleep with a small smile on his face.

[flowerfan2]

Close to You - Ch. 4/11

Stucky, 14k so far, A03, M

Although Steve and Bucky are finally in the same place, they aren’t as close as they would like.  This is a story about how they heal.

Note:  This story is 100% written and will post 2-3x week.

Chapter 4

“Come on, lazy bones. Rise and shine.  We’re gonna be late.”

Bucky rolls over, pressing his cheek into the pillow, barely hearing Steve’s words.  But then there’s a warm weight in the bed next to him, and Steve is pressing a toothpaste flavored kiss to his lips.  This gets his attention.

“Meeting’s in 20 minutes. I let you sleep as long as I could…” Steve sits back on his knees, a shy smile on his face.  “You looked really comfortable.”

Bucky blinks up at Steve as he remembers the events of the day before – including falling asleep in Steve’s arms.  He smiles, crooked against the pillow.  “I was very comfortable.”

 Steve’s smile grows, but he slides backwards off the bed, tugging at the sheet covering Bucky’s legs. “Come on, then.  Pepper’s going to be there today.  I want to be on time.”

Bucky reluctantly crawls out of bed.  He shakes his head at Steve, who is already showered and dressed, looking like the leading man he is in a dark blue button up with the top button undone.  Coulda been a movie star, Bucky thinks, as he shuffles into the bathroom.  Would have been a good deal safer than his current gig.

Bucky’s ready quickly, but he spends a few extra minutes on his appearance, shaving away the last few days’ worth of scruff, and finding a slim fitting charcoal shirt to wear with his black jeans.  He pulls his hair back into a neat little ponytail as he goes out to meet Steve, who gives him an appraising look and a low whistle.

“Dressing up for Ms. Potts?”

Bucky shrugs, hoping he isn’t blushing.  “Not for her.”

Steve blushes right back, so either way, it’s a win.

 They take the elevator down and wander through the halls to one of the larger conference rooms. Bucky makes a beeline to the coffee set up at the side, and hangs there for a moment to get his bearings.  He’s only met Pepper Potts a few times, and he’s not sure what to expect.

 Steve, on the other hand, saunters right over to her and starts chatting easily.  She gives him a folder with the new Avengers logo on it, and leans in to whisper in his ear.

 “Don’t be jealous,” Tony says, startling Bucky as he appears beside him, taking a large bite of a muffin. “Pepper finds him charming.  News flash – everyone finds Cap charming.  But she’s not looking to hook up with anyone else whose idea of fun is to put himself in the line of fire, believe me.”

 Bucky has heard about Tony’s rocky relationship with Pepper, and he nods to show he understands.  He doesn’t have to worry about actually conversing with Tony, however, as Thor whumps him on the back to say hello, nearly knocking Tony into Bucky and his second cup of coffee.

 By the time everyone has assembled, it’s clear that this is the largest gathering of Avengers and Avengers-related folks in some time.  As they find their seats, Steve gives Bucky a look from across the room  - Steve’s trapped in between Pepper and Coulson, and hasn’t managed to save a seat for Bucky.  Bucky holds up a quick “okay” sign, and sits down next to Bruce, who smiles and refills Bucky’s coffee.

 “Always wondered,” Bruce says quietly, passing the coffee pot down to Clint, “does caffeine work on you guys?”

 “Not as much as I’d like,” Bucky replies.

 Coulson calls the meeting to order, and then Steve speaks for a few minutes.  The purpose of the meeting is to coordinate the various branches of Avengers with SHIELD’s public relations functions.  Pepper is there to speak on behalf of Stark Industries, and to go over some details for a charity ball that Stark has just stepped in to sponsor.

 “Their main sponsor dropped out at the last minute, and since it’s a cause Stark Industries has always supported, we’re taking over,” Pepper explains.  “But I need your help, and your good faith commitment, so we can make this event a success.”

 Bucky hasn’t been paying very close attention to the talk, instead watching Thor and Jane – they’re seated across the table from him, and seem to have some game going on which mostly involves poking each other with their pens.  Pepper pauses long enough, however, that Bucky looks up.  She’s got a powerpoint up on the wall, and she flicks through several slides filled with information about the newest Stark prosthetics for children, finally stopping on a list of names.  

 “Everyone on this list is going to speak, for at least 5 minutes, and then have a photo session. People pay good money to stand next to you cretins and get their pictures taken, so dress appropriately.”

 Bucky scans the names on the list and, as he expected, finds Steve’s name at the top.  Steve sees it too, and Bucky thinks he can identify the precise moment when Steve’s show face slides into place over his previously casual expression.  

 Pepper clicks over to another slide, this one a list of the tasks the other Avengers will be engaging in throughout the event.   Jane and Darcy are selling raffle tickets, and Bucky’s listed as “bartender” along with Clint and Bruce.

 “Guess we’re the ‘B’ team,” Bruce says under his breath.

 “Two B’s and one C,” Clint grumbles.  “I understand why they want to keep a nice solid bar in between you two and the swarming crowds of fans, but don’t people want pictures with Hawkeye?”

 “No problem, I’ll switch with you, and you can have old rich guys grabbing your ass all night long,” Natasha hisses.

 “There will be no ass grabbing,” Pepper says calmly.  “We’ll have agents with you at all times, and no untoward behavior will be tolerated.”

 This news does little to change Steve’s expression, and Bucky wishes they had at least had some advance notice of this shindig.  Then they could have had Bruce talk to Pepper, or find some way to keep Steve off the personal photo session list.  It’s not necessarily too late, of course, but somehow Bucky imagines Steve isn’t going to want all these people finding out just how much he doesn’t want to have old rich guys – or gals – grabbing his ass all night long.  Plus, as always, Steve is the star of the show.

 *****

 The meeting is just starting to break up when Bucky sees Coulson frown at his phone, then lean in to whisper urgently in Steve’s ear.  Within minutes, the room is cleared and Steve, Bucky, Tony, Clint and Natasha are grabbing their gear and heading for the quinjet.  A known HYDRA operative they’ve been fruitlessly searching for has been spotted in Vienna, and Coulson wants them there as soon as possible.

 The operative has already left Vienna by the time they leave U.S. airspace, and the atmosphere in the quinjet is tense as Steve communicates with Coulson and his agents on the ground to decide whether to proceed and try to track him, or return home and wait until he’s located again.  They proceed, finally landing in Slovakia, on the assurance of an agent in Bratislava that they have good intelligence that the operative will turn up in one of two meeting places in the city.

 Bucky sits back and watches Steve work, as he puts together a plan flexible enough to accommodate the constant flow of information.  Once they land, Steve and Natasha set off to coordinate with the agents on the ground, and Bucky and Clint are assigned to keep watch over each of the two safe houses. Tony will remain on the jet for the time being, working the intel, until they get a better fix on the operative’s location.

 Steve is in full-on Captain mode, and everyone is legitimately busy, so Bucky doesn’t expect much of a good-bye.  But just as Steve is about to step off the plane, he turns and winks at Bucky, then jogs back out to join Natasha.  It’s just a little thing, but it makes Bucky’s heart pound with happiness.  

 It doesn’t take long for Bucky to get set up in the small office building across the street from the first safe house.  SHIELD’s section of the building consists of a few mostly empty rooms, with a tell-tale pile of fast food wrappers in the garbage can, and a local agent who stands awkwardly at attention until Bucky starts quizzing him (in Slovakian) about his assignment.  

 From the window Bucky can clearly see the front door of the safe house, and down the road a few blocks in both directions.  Tony informs him through his comm that there’s a back door, too, and soon there’s a drone in place and Bucky has a view of the back door on his laptop.

 “Don’t think he’s anywhere near you, though,” Tony says.  “Or the other safe house.  Cap and Widow have a lead.  I’ll keep you posted.”

 Bucky checks his equipment again, then once more, and settles in.  He tunes out the other noises in the room, the agent’s nervous puttering, the hum of the computer, the cycling of the heating system, and waits.

 It’s almost midnight when Tony shows up.  

 “Still no sign of the bad guy,” Tony says, pulling up a folding chair.  “Figured you might want some company.”  

 Bucky stifles a laugh at the offended look the local agent gives Tony.

 “Thanks.  Whatcha got?”

 “Sausages.”  Tony pulls a wrapped package out of a bag and hands it to Bucky.   “On rolls.  With some kind of…” he pulls off a corner of the paper and sniffs. “Slaw?  Dressing?  Don’t know, but it smells good.”

 They eat in silence for a few minutes, and then Tony gives Bucky an update of what they know about the operative’s whereabouts, mostly things Bucky has heard already over the course of the day.  But it’s nice to have something to do other than stare out the window at the safe house and obsessively check his laptop for new information.

 “Oh, and Cap wanted me to give you this.”

 Bucky takes the folded up paper from Tony, and unfolds it.  It’s a sketch of the two of them, cartoon-y and exaggeratedly cute, standing by a window.  The Steve-character is pursing his lips and pressing them to the Bucky-character’s cheek, and the Bucky-character is blushing prettily.

 The caption below simply reads “good night, Buck.”

 Bucky feels his face heat, and he knows he’s smiling like a loon, but he really can’t help it.  He folds the paper back up and slides it into an inside pocket in his vest.  “Thanks, Tony.”

 “Don’t mention it.”

 *****

The mission finally starts to go somewhere early the next morning, when Bucky gets a signal that the operative is nearing the house across the street.  When Bucky finally gets a look at him, however, he realizes it’s a double.

 “You sure?”  Tony asks over the comm.

 “He’s sure.”  Bucky hears Steve join in.  “Besides, I think I see him coming over here.”  Steve and Nat are at a coffee shop near the second safe house, biding their time over their third cup of café au something or other.

 The man walks right by the place, however, and as Steve and Nat set off to follow him, Clint speaks up.

 “Guys, hate to make this more complicated, but there’s another one over here.”

 “Three’s company,” Tony mumbles.  “Clint, take him out.”

 “Belay that, not unless you’re certain,” Steve says.  “Nat thinks our guy’s the right one.  We’re following him now.”

 Bucky is starting to get a bad feeling about this.  “It’s a trap,” he says.  Steve’s going to walk right into it, too.  Or run into it, more likely.  

 Tony is babbling on about facial identification software and how SHIELD’s current version isn’t good enough given these conditions, and how he can make a modification that will almost definitely probably help if they give him a few more minutes, but Bucky tunes him out as yet another man meeting the operative’s general description approaches the front door of the safe house across the street.  He’s dressed completely differently from the other three, apparently having traded his overcoat and hat for gym clothes and sneakers. Bucky thinks he’s also wearing a wig. It’s an admirable effort, but not good enough.

 His attention is nearly drawn away as he hears Steve report on the increasingly problematic nature of the situation with the double (triple?) he and Nat are following, but he just whispers his status into the comms and steadies his gun.  He waits until he has a clear view of the man’s face – he only sees him for a split second, the man has skills - but that’s all Bucky needs for confirmation, and he presses the trigger.

 “He’s down,” Bucky announces as the man falls, clutching his knee.  Bucky nods to the agent standing next to him, who dispatches the team to go pick him up.  “The rest is a trap.”

 There are sounds of a fight, muted grunts and swearing, but it doesn’t last long.

 “Trap is confirmed,” Steve says, and Bucky hears Natasha curse.  

 “Buck, you couldn’t have solved this mystery before I ruined these shoes?”

 “If you can’t run in them,” Tony starts to lecture her, and Steve laughs into the comm.

 “She can run fine, and you know it.  She used her shoe to pick the lock.”

 “The lock?”  Clint asks.  “But how?  And what lock?”

 “Where they trapped her.”

 “Briefly,” Natasha clarifies.  “Very, very briefly.”

 “Would have gotten me, too,” Steve continues, “if Bucky hadn’t warned me in time.”

 Not likely, Bucky thinks, but you never know.  It wouldn’t be the first time Steve had done something stupid, and it wasn’t likely to be the last.

 Nonetheless, he’s feeling pretty good as they all board the quinjet.  Not only did he not fuck up, but he seems to have impressed the group with his performance.  Even Coulson gives him a smile and a quiet “good work.”

 After the plane takes off most of them settle down, Natasha and Clint trying to wrangle Steve into playing cards with them, and Tony muttering about something while swiping at his computer pad, but Bucky is still buzzing with adrenaline and can’t seem to make himself sit still.  He goes into the bathroom and washes his face, changes into a t-shirt and sweatpants, and pokes through the supplies in the cabinets for no reason at all.  

 When he comes out, Steve catches his eye.  He’s still on one of the long cushioned benches along the side of the plane, feet kicked out in front of him, a soft smile on his face.  Bucky joins him, and then without thinking very hard about it, leans down to rest his head on Steve’s thigh.

 Steve’s rock hard muscles aren’t the softest pillow, but Steve immediately starts to card his fingers through Bucky’s hair, and suddenly Bucky relaxes, the adrenaline draining out of him.  It’s possible, he thinks to himself as he drifts off, that this is the most comfortable place he’s ever laid his head.  

 *****

If nothing else, the mission gave Steve less time to fret over the upcoming charity ball.  Before they know it, they are dressed to the nines and ready to go mix and mingle.  Apparently after the news got out that the Avengers would be present, ticket sales shot through the roof.  Pepper informs the group when they arrive that the private photo sessions were so popular that extra slots were added, not only for their most well known members, but for Clint and Bucky as well.

 “Still not Banner,” Clint whispers under his breath to Bucky as they head over to their assigned room. Bucky wonders if this is because someone thinks he is less likely to lose control than Bruce, or if Bruce somehow talked his way out of it.  Probably the latter.  

 When Bucky’s photo shoot shift is over, they send him to the bar, and he spends an hour or so pouring drinks for mostly very well behaved guests.  No one says anything blatantly offensive to him, although one young guy keeps looking at his phone and repeating a phrase in terribly accented Russian over and over.  Bucky thinks he’s trying to perfect some kind of pick-up line, and he’s wondering if the guy would understand him if he whispered something dirty in Russian back (if the kid ever gets on with it), when

Tony hops the bar and sidles up next to him.  

 “I’ll take over here,” Tony says, looking curiously at the kid with the phone, who has started to blush. “Think your man could use a friendly face.”

 Bucky sucks in a breath and tries to catch Tony’s eye.  “Is Steve okay?”

 Tony deftly takes a forgotten wine bottle from Bucky’s hand.  “Just go.”

 Bucky doesn’t waste any time, moving quickly through the ballroom and down the hall to the rooms where the larger photo sessions are being held.  He sees Steve standing in a small crowd of people, his back against the wall.  Two of Coulson’s agents are right there, smiling and nodding along.  To most people it would just look like Steve being amiable, allowing his fans to have a few extra minutes of time with their idol.  But Bucky can see the fine sheen of sweat on Steve’s forehead, and the glint of approaching panic in his eyes.

 “Excuse me,” Bucky says broadly, drawing the attention of the crowd.  “I need to speak with the Captain privately.”  He gives his most charming smile and tilts his head. “Important matters of national security, you know.”

 There’s a twitter of amusement, and the crowd dissipates, people murmuring their thanks and hopes to see Steve again later in the evening.  

 Steve’s frowning, though, and when they have the room to themselves, he glares at Bucky.  “What’d you do that for?”

 This isn’t actually the reception he expected.  “Looked like you need a break.”

 “Don’t you have someplace to be?”  Steve paces across the room.  

 “Yeah, but Tony said you-”

 Steve’s eyes flash with anger.  “Oh, fine, Tony’s coming to my rescue, too.”

 “Steve, you’ve been doing this for hours, but you’re done now-”

 Steve huffs out a bitter laugh.  “No, actually I’m not done.  There’s one more guy, some big shot, he’s running late, I told his assistant I’d wait. And even after that I won’t be done, someone will want just one more, for their husband or daughter or cousin twice removed.”  Steve’s voice is getting louder, and he runs his hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m never fucking done.”

 Steve looks so miserable, Bucky just wants to take him in his arms and give him a great big hug. “Steve, at least let’s go take a walk for a few minutes, get some air.”  He reaches for Steve, but before he knows it he’s flying across the room.

 “Don’t fucking touch me!”

 Bucky lands with a thump against Coulson, of all people, who barely staggers as he catches Bucky under the arms and steadies him.  Coulson’s a lot stronger than he appears, Bucky thinks with the part of his brain that isn’t desperately trying to figure out how to fix a situation that is rapidly going south.

 “Gentlemen,” Coulson says calmly.  “Is there a problem?”

 Steve’s mouth is gaping open like a fish out of water, and he closes it with an almost audible snap. “No sir, Agent, we’re fine.”

 Coulson looks him over, then at Bucky, who wishes he had some form of mental power that could transmit his thoughts to Coulson, something along the lines of nope, not fine, not remotely close.  But Bucky doesn’t even dare to shake his head, not with Steve staring at him. “We’re good, sir,” he lies.  “Just a small difference of opinion.”

 Apparently Coulson can read minds anyway, despite Bucky’s lack of telepathic powers.  He gives them a significant look and then speaks calmly but firmly.  “You are both relieved of duty for tonight.  Go home.”

 “What?  No, sir, I’m not done-” Steve immediately protests.

 “You are.  I want you both out of here immediately.  I’ll tell Ms. Potts, don’t worry about making excuses.” Coulson looks Steve up and down again, his face softening.  “And come see me tomorrow, ten a.m.  Both of you. I want to know what’s going on.  All of it. Understood?”

 “Yes sir,” Steve replies stiffly.

[hillywooddestiel]

Walls Chapter 1

Characters:Sam, Dean x Hunter!Reader (eventually), some mysterious characters...

Warnings: Graphic(ish) violence, smut (kinda, its very mild), angst (lots), a couple more maybe but I don’t want to give anything away

Word Count:1.5k

A/N: So this has been in my drafts for a little while and I couldn’t wait to get it out there so here it is. Plus I just gained quite a few followers in the last week so this feels like an appropriate time. Like I said before, I don’t want to give anything away so no description and no aesthetic thing yet so have a semi-appropriate gif for now. I’ll add it to the next parts but it’s a huge give away. I felt so evil writing this but I loved every minute. So hold on tight, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride!

Story:

“Cheers!” You grin, clinking your glass with the guys. For once, a hunt had gone smoothly; no injuries, no fuss, no taking 7 showers to get rid of suspicious gooey substances that had exploded all over you. So you’d decided to treat yourselves to a night of drinking at the local bar. It was crowded, buzzing with people finishing work for the day. “Hey, Y/N!” Sam half whispers, nudging your arm. “What’s up Sammy?” you smirk, watching him sigh at the use of that name. “4 o'clock at the bar. Red tie.” He nods his head in the general direction. There at the bar sits a not-too-shabby gentleman in a navy suit. His grey eyes are fixated on you. Out of politeness, you smile and nod then look back to Sam. “I don’t know Sam, isn’t he a bit creepy? You know, staring like that.” While it is true that you aren’t interested in a one night stand, Sam doesn’t really know the reason why. That reason why is sat between the two of you, making eyes with a tipsy blonde across the bar. And he isn’t the least bit interested in you.

Deep down, you know nothing will ever happen between you and Dean. Hunters don’t get happy endings. But that didn’t stop your mind from thinking of the what could be’s. Almost every day, you dream of him confessing his feelings to you, kissing you, holding you in those muscular arms. Although then again, it has been a while since you got laid.

Sighing, you muster your sweetest smile, adjust your top to show more cleavage, and strut over to the suit at the bar. He eyes you up and down, lingering on your chest. “Hey,” your voice is lower, in an attempt at seduction. “Well hello…” his eyes continue to wander. You pick up on his accent immediately. British. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t become more attractive after hearing him speak. “It’s late, how about we get out of here? I have a motel room across the street…” You have no time for small talk. He nods quickly, placing his hand dangerously low on your waist as he escorts you out into the fresh air. He’s a total sleaze, but right now you don’t care. You just want to get your mind off Dean and have some fun.

Dean’s POV It only takes her two minutes to convince some suited asshole at the bar to leave with her. Not surprising since everyone finds her so damn hot. I can’t lie, I did stare at her ass as she left. It’s not my fault that she was wearing those skinny jeans that look so good on her. But, I shouldn’t think like this. We’re friends. That’s all we’ll ever be. Hunter’s don’t get that fairy tale ending. It’s fact.

I sigh into my bottle. The blonde chick with the mini skirt has been staring all night. All I have to do is switch on the Winchester charm, buy her a drink, and she’d happily follow me back to the motel. Y/N is getting some action tonight so why can’t I?

I look over to Sam. He’s pissed and still easily hustling a game of pool. With him doing his own thing, I approach the blonde, smiling and signalling the bartender for a drink. Tonight, I just need to get Y/N out of my mind.

Your POV You don’t even know this guy’s name as he rips your shirt over your head before pulling you into a kiss. You begin unbuttoning his shirt, ignoring his hands constantly squeezing your ass. You may be about to sleep together but he his one handsy dude. Making all sorts of groans, he leads you to the bed and pushes you back with more force than you were expecting. He’s swift, removing his pants and underwear till he’s in front of you in all his glory. Feeling the familiar throb from between your thighs, you quickly unclasp your bra before he leaps on top of you.

Clearly not one for foreplay, it isn’t long before he’s thrusting inside you. Judging from his moans, he’s clearly having a good time. That makes one of you. You close your eyes for a moment and when you open them, it’s not the suit on top of you- it’s Dean. He smiles at you. It’s infectious, as you begin to smile back. “Oh, Y/N…” he breathes, leaning down and kissing you passionately. “Oh…” you moan, catching yourself before saying his name. Because, unfortunately, this isn’t Dean. It’s a stranger. Meaningless.

He flops to your side, panting like a dog. “Well you sure know how to help a man blow off steam…” he says smugly, resting his hands behind his head. “Mmhmm” is you response, you feign enjoyment. Not wanting to have an awkward chat, you roll over to go to to sleep. Your dreams consist of you and Dean in various states of undress.

Dean’s POV The chick from the bar was fun. But she wasn’t Y/N. How I wish it could be her next to me, exhausted from a night of wild sex. I wish I could turn over and pull her closer. Breathe in her sweet apple scent from her shampoo she loves so much. Stare into her Y/E/C eyes and lose myself in them. But I know I can’t. Not only is Y/N not next to me, she’s next to another man right now in the room next door. Probably happy. Not torn up inside with feelings for her best friend.

Your POV Rolling onto your back, you feel a harsh white light shining on your closed eyes. Morning already? You wince as your eyes slowly open. Nope! That light is too bright when you have a hangover. Scooting yourself off the bed, you shuffle to the window to close the curtain, eyes still closed. You fumble around for the thin drapes but all you feel is the smooth wall. That’s odd. You rub your eyes, preparing yourself to open them.

White. That’s the only way to describe the room you find yourself in. The bed, the walls, the light. Everything is white. You’re even wearing a white t-shirt and pants. Opposite your bed is another room, the exact mirror of yours. The only thing separating them is a red line across the floor, up the walls and along the roof. It splits the space in half. Panic rising in your chest, you sit back on the bed and breathe slowly. The last thing you need right now is a panic attack.

Suddenly the door of the opposite room swings open. A man is pushed in onto his knees wearing a similar outfit to yours. He looks up for a moment, green eyes full of fear. “Dean!” you shout, rushing over to him. As you reach the red line, you feel something solid smack you in the face, bouncing your entire body backwards. You try again, only to feel an invisible wall stopping you. “Dean!” you yell again, smacking the solid air.

The door opens again. Two men in white scrubs with surgical masks covering their faces enter Dean’s side of the room. Everything about their appearance is unsettling. They stop either side of Dean like sinister guards. In unison, they throw punch after punch at Dean, his blood spattering the white surroundings. You scream in horror, punching the clear wall in a futile attempt to break through. They continue their onslaught of punches and kicks, over and over and over again, turning Dean into a bloody pulp. Blood has splashed onto the clear wall, dripping onto the floor. Your side of the room remains clean. Like sadistic clockwork figures, they both stop, pick up Dean by his arms and drag his lifeless body out of the room, leaving a bloody trail.

Sobbing, you drop to the floor, still seeing the bloody mess when you close your eyes. All of a sudden, you feel drowsy. “Dean…” you sniff one final time before slumping to the floor unconscious.

??? POV “Interesting,” says the doctor before scribbling something on his clipboard. He pushes his glasses up his greasy nose before observing some more. “This is quite the emotional reaction, wouldn’t you agree?” he directs to me. “Yes, quite.” I respond. The girl falls to the ground, crying like a baby. “Initiate the serum. Sleeping Beauty needs her rest after what she’s seen.” The doctor complies, turning the dial on his control board. Almost instantaneously, the girl drops sleeping to the floor. “How soon can we move on to phase two?” “Well, we need to run a few more simulations first, get her used to things, but I’d estimate she’ll break in about a week’s time. Maybe less if we up the intensity.” I nod approvingly. Ma'am should be happy with these results. I turn to Stevenson, “Good job bringing her in chap!” “No problem sir, it was rather enjoyable.” He smiles, adjusting his red tie. “Good job everyone,” I raise my voice for the rest of the team “We’ll let her rest for 5 hours and resume testing then. In the mean time, every body take a break…”

Part 2

Published by @hillywooddestiel 01/07/17

[avidbeader]

Voltron fanfic: “Scattered” Chapter 15

Season 2 AU. No ships, K+ to T rating. Begin at the beginning here.

Giving a particular shout-out to @rangergirl3 – after reading the latest installment of her “Lost Paladins” series with all the Keith and all the Pidge, one thread to this chapter just took off and started running and I don’t know when it’s gonna stop. And after you read this fic/chapter, give yourself a few days’ treat and go read her stuff – it’s fabulous and full of solid OCs and world building, great character interactions, plenty of hurt balanced by plenty of comfort, and all the nerdy references you could want.

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Pidge set up the laptop to transfer the rest of its files to the Altean database, locking the information under a personal password, then looked around for how to make Keith more comfortable until Allura could try to address the energy issue.

And then she kicked herself for sending the others out so fast. There was no way she could drag a bed or couch from another room here, and even then she couldn’t lift Keith by herself. Everyone else was currently in the control room and she was not going to interrupt negotiations. Time to improvise.

She raided a storage cabinet of all the blankets meant for patients when they exited a cryo-pod. She piled a few together next to Keith for a makeshift mattress and shifted him onto it in stages. She added another pair of blankets to cover him, then considered. She pulled off most of the white-and-green pieces to her armor so she was left in the same black uniform as Keith, then sat cross-legged at his head. She lifted him up enough so his head rested in her lap, then activated the interface in the gauntlet that she still wore and laid her bayard on the floor next to her, ready to snatch up.

“Let’s see what we can find from here…”

After a few tries, Pidge found a pathway into the Garrison’s Internet connection. She began scanning the major news sites, her free hand absently running through Keith’s hair as she read.

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“What do we have, Coran?”

“It seems to be a voice message only. I think we would need Pidge to instruct them on establishing visual contact, since she’s familiar with their capability.”

Allura shook her head. “She’s watching over Keith right now. We’ll make do.” In her peripheral vision, she noticed Hunk and Matt Holt put their heads together over Pidge’s station. She drew a deep breath and nodded at her adviser, who touched a control and gave her the thumb-up gesture she had seen the Paladins use.

“This is Princess Allura of Altea. To whom am I speaking?”

“I’m Commander Iverson, head of Galaxy Garrison.”

He was the one trying to open communications with Keith. He told us where to find him.

Before she could answer, Iverson continued. “Please, is Cadet Kogane—Keith, is he safe?”

Allura the princess felt her anger loosen at that. This man sounded genuinely concerned. But Allura the leader of the universe’s only known resistance to Zarkon replied.

“Why would you think he’d be safer with us than with you? Aren’t we the aliens here?”

Iverson hesitated very briefly, then spoke. “Because even though he left the Garrison early, between his time here and what Captain Shirogane would say about him, I know something about Keith. He does not give his trust lightly and you people obviously earned it. His very first thought was returning to you. He wanted to give us information about some threat called the Galra and communicate with the other cadets’ families, but he never once indicated any desire to stay here.”

Allura glanced at Shiro, who nodded at her.

“He is safe enough, though he will need medical attention from the drugs you poured into him.” Allura’s tone turned sharp.

“I have the list that Darzi and Blackwell used—”

“Unnecessary. We have that information.”

That seemed to stun Iverson and Allura did not volunteer how they knew. She continued, “Those names, have those people been punished yet for their assault?”

“They are being held while we try and sort out exactly what happened. Darzi will face a court martial at the very least.”

“I will tell you now. We have ways of monitoring the outcome of any inquiry you have, and if we are not satisfied with his punishment, we can and will enact our own retribution against him.”

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Benítez had finally made it back to the Garrison, having been forced to land several miles away rather than risk becoming a target for the very large and very unknown space vessel that was hovering over the desert. She entered the communication center just in time to hear a female voice coldly announce that she was in possession of information that should not have been available to anyone besides the command staff. When that same voice followed up with threats, she inhaled sharply.

“This is General Benítez of Earthforce. Who are you to make that kind of threat?”

“I am Princess Allura, the guardian of the Voltron Force, and I will protect my Paladins in every way possible. Your people could have killed my Red Paladin with their insistence on medically coercing information from him. There is no threat. I promise that if your punishment does not fit this Darzi’s crimes, we will rectify the situation.”

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Shiro touched her arm gently and and she paused to look at him, a bit annoyed that he had stopped her building up into a really satisfying rant.

He waved at Coran and made a slashing motion across his throat. Coran looked puzzled for a moment, then realized what Shiro was asking and adjusted the controls. “All right, the connection is muted for the moment.”

Shiro turned and pointed to Pidge’s station. Matt looked up from his display. “We have visual contact ready if you want it – it’s going to pop up on one of their security camera viewscreens when I initiate.”

Allura smiled a little at that. Pidge’s brother was proving to be quite useful. “Yes, please.” She waved a hand to bring up the proper viewer.

Shiro moved to stand next to her and waved at Hunk and Lance. “Come on, guys, united front. Sam, Matt, will you join us at my signal?”

Both Holts nodded and Shiro turned to Coran. “Ready to reopen the channel.”

The screen wavered and then showed two people. Allura looked them over and guessed that the balding one with only one good eye was the adult male, Iverson, and that the one with dark hair pulled back from her face was the general.

Iverson jumped as he focused on the sudden visual. “Shirogane?”

“Commander.”

Iverson was now looking at Lance and Hunk. “I see Garrett and McClain. Where’s Gunderson? Is he all right?”

Lance snorted at that, but Shiro gave him a look and he got himself under control.

“The person in question is safe and currently looking after Keith. But there is no ‘Pidge Gunderson’. That person assumed a false identity to infiltrate the Garrison and look for more information on why her family disappeared.”

As they watched, the penny dropped and Iverson breathed, “Katie Holt.”

Shiro nodded once and waved to the waiting pair. “And as you can see, she succeeded where you failed.”

Sam and Matt stepped forward and Sam gave a resigned smile. “Hello, Mitch.”

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After a few minutes of shared crying from joy, Rosa pulled herself together. “I’ll contact Iolana to let her know about Hunk…oh, lord, should I wait? I need to figure out the time difference—”

Colleen interrupted, her own emotional storms subsiding as her natural inclination to organize took over. “Go ahead and call now. Even if you wake her, you’re giving her good news. I’ll contact Shiro’s family.”

“And the Garrison? When do we contact them?”

“We don’t. Sam was very insistent on that. They lied and covered up the fact that the Kerberos team was kidnapped by aliens. They lied again when our children disappeared. Sam said he’d contact me as soon as they handled their immediate crisis and sort out when and how to meet.”

“What do we do if they contact us first? Or reporters?”

Colleen thought a moment. “We have plausible deniability with that audio being spread about everywhere. Deny everything but that you know Lance is alive until we have some guidance from Sam.”

Rosa glanced at Seamus and the girls, all listening closely. He nodded at her. She replied, “All right. We stay in touch and contact the others as soon as anyone hears anything.”

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His surroundings brightened and shifted away from Red’s soothing aura. For a moment it was as if he were surrounded by the gleaming white and soft blue that characterized the Castle. Then everything came into focus, showing the room where he was being held prisoner.

He struggled uselessly against bindings that held him down as the door opened. Darzi was coming back again…Darzi would never stop trying to wring every last bit of information from him.

Red! Red, where are you?

And then the figure moved from the door to tower over him. A scarred, purple face grinned at him, violet eyes shining in glee at his helplessness. The figure lifted clawed hands and brought them down, sealing off his air. He tried to tell himself it was just a dream. And then he felt something warm on his face.

“Keith! Wake up! It’s okay!”

He tried with everything he had to fight the hands that were suffocating him. To his surprise, his arms moved and he connected with the form hovering above him.

“Ow, dammit, Keith! Wake up! You’re dreaming! Wake up!”

Wake up, my Paladin!

Zarkon’s face shifted, becoming rounder and pale and…

“Pidge?”

Her face was upside down and it took him a moment to realize he was looking up at her from her lap. Her glasses were askew. She straightened them and smoothed his hair back from his face.

“Yeah. You with me?”

“Where…where are we?”

Home, my Paladin.

“We’re safe in the Castle. We broke you out of the Garrison.”

He felt locked muscles begin to relax at the knowledge that he was out of that blasted room, out of Darzi’s hands. But the second the tension in his body eased, sensation flooded in. Pain hammered his skull and shot down his neck into his shoulders. His mouth and throat felt full of sand. He could feel sore points on his arms from where needles had been inserted and his skin itched with the need for a thorough shower. The only things that felt good were Red purring in his mind and Pidge combing through his hair with her fingers.

She shifted underneath him. “Here, can you sit up a second?”

Keith was able to prop himself on his elbows long enough for her to bring a stack of folded blankets over. But sitting up made his head swim and he fell back on the improvised pillow. Pidge frowned at that. “Are you dizzy?”

He nodded.

“Headache? Dry mouth?”

“Yeah.”

She took his hand and pinched the back of it briefly, her eyes narrowing when it took several seconds for the skin to smooth out again. “You’re dehydrated. Those bastards.” She went to a cabinet and pulled out a few pouches; he recognized them as the portable drinks Coran gave them when they were training. She opened one and handed it to him. “Slowly. If you suck it down there’s every chance you’ll throw it back up.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Pidge rolled her eyes, but grinned at him. Keith made himself sip the liquid, rather than gulp as he wanted to do the second it hit his parched throat.

She snagged a laptop from its perch on the console and settled close beside him. Now that the light showed her face fully, he could see a red mark on her face that appeared set to bruise deeply. He flashed back to the dream, striking out against Zarkon’s image, and realized what he had done.

He reached up but she caught his hand before he could touch her.

“God, Pidge, I’m sorry—”

She squeezed his hand and laid it back on his chest. “It’s okay, I’m just glad you’re awake and coherent. Everyone’s been worried sick, I’m still so mad that the Garrison did this to you!”

“Earthforce. Not the Garrison.”

“What?”

“It was someone in Earthforce that gave me all this trouble. I remember Iverson saying something about them pulling rank.”

“Oh.” Several expressions flitted across Pidge’s face as she assimilated the new information. She looked back down at the laptop and scrolled to something, then brought up a screen from her gauntlet and poked at it.

“That’s not yours.”

“No, I stole it when we went in to rescue you. We needed the medical information to tell the cryo-pod what to fix, given that Altean medicine might not recognize Earth drugs.”

Keith looked around at the makeshift bed, his armor piled to one side. “So, why am I not currently imitating a popsicle, then?”

“I wish you hadn’t said ‘popsicle’. I’ve been reading everything about what’s been going on—there were too many photos and vids for Earthforce to hope to contain the news—and the food ads are killing me.”

“Back to the point, Hunk…”

She made a face at him. “Anyway, Allura was afraid to use a pod because somehow your body is acting like a supercharged battery full of that Quintessence stuff the Galra were processing at that hub. We have no idea how—”

She broke off, seeing Keith’s expression change.

“You have an idea how that happened.”

“Yeah, but go on.”

“So she wasn’t sure that the pod would be able to manage the excess energy you currently have inside you. I think she might want to try something like what we saw her doing with the Balmera, siphoning it off or redirecting it or something.”

Keith nodded thoughtfully at that.

“I think that this Quintessence issue is part of the reason you had such a high resistance to their drugs.” Something on the screen from her gauntlet beeped and she poked it, studying something on it.

“What’s that?” Keith finished the last of the drink.

Pidge swapped the empty pouch for a new one. “Tell you later. Anything feeling better?” She started to lay a hand on his forehead to see if he felt feverish, but he instinctively jerked from her hand. She saw his pulse jump in his throat and his eyes dilate.

“All right, what is it?”

“What’s what?” he deflected, willing himself to calm his racing heartbeat. Red rumbled in his head, trying to soothe him even as her own anger spiked.

“Why are you so jumpy about me touching your face? First you slugged me one and now you avoid me checking your temperature.”

He looked down and closed his eyes, searching for a way to tell her without having to relive those terror-filled moments of Darzi’s hands clamped across his face, the inability to defend himself, the struggle to breathe.

Too late.

He reached for her hand and pressed it to his cheek, deliberately trying to break the association. Inhaling deeply, he opened his eyes. “I think it was the second or third time they tried a truth serum on me. The lieutenant general that was in charge arranged to take out the medtech that was in the room and brought his own person, so he could use as much of the amo-whatever as he wanted. I yelled, trying to get anyone’s attention, and he…he tried to stop me. But he covered my nose and mouth so tightly I couldn’t breathe. And then he seemed to lose it. If the medtech with him hadn’t stopped him, he’d’ve killed me.” He closed his eyes again and focused on her hand, which had begun to tremble.

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My sister! Is this true?

Red growled dangerously in reply to Green’s question. Yes.

And you left the place standing?

If the other had not stopped the attack, I would have razed it to the ground.

And I would help you!

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Pidge caressed his cheek and withdrew her hand. Keith opened his eyes and looked, seeing her visibly trying to control a growing rage.

Glints of gold swirled in her brown eyes.

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Allura watched the reactions closely. Iverson seemed stunned at the appearance of the Holts while Benítez immediately frowned.

Iverson was the first to speak. “Sam…you’re alive. You’re all alive!”

“We are. Matt owes his life to Shiro and we owe our freedom to Lance and the rest of the Voltron Force. But you? You lied about what happened to us. You put out a false story blaming Shiro for an accident that never happened!”

Benítez snapped, “That was the only thing we could do! If we’d told the public there were signs of you all being taken by some alien force, we’d have uncontrollable panic!”

“And yet when I returned, you didn’t listen to me, either.” Shiro’s voice was hard and cold, and Allura couldn’t stop herself from glancing at him worriedly.

“If those cadets hadn’t interfered—”

“If they hadn’t, Earth would be under the control of the Galra Empire right now. We were the ones in the Blue Lion when it led the warship away.”

That seemed to stop the general. She took a deep breath before speaking again. “We’re not getting anywhere like this. What is it that you want?”

Allura stepped forward slightly. “We are willing to give you intelligence on the Galra. We will decide on a few alterations to your technology that will permit scans at longer ranges than you currently have. In exchange, you will guarantee safe passage so my Paladins can see their families and establish their own secure methods of communication with them. Finally, we will establish multiple layers of counter-signs so that in case the Galra do approach your system you will be able to alert us through the Paladins’ families.”

Iverson and Benítez looked at one another and Allura sensed that they might have a starting point. She schooled her face to prevent a smile of triumph from showing.

The floor of the Castle shook under her feet.

Startled, she looked around and saw similar confusion on the Paladins’ faces. Then she realized what was happening when twin roars tore through the halls, echoing from the bays to the control room.

Each of the Paladins had what she would call the ‘listening’ face as a child: that open, concentrating expression which meant that the Lions were communicating with their pilots. Then all three of them—Shiro, Lance, and Hunk—suddenly looked furious. Before everyone’s eyes, Shiro’s right hand began to glow as it curled into a fist.

Allura jumped when a new comm screen popped up, showing Pidge with a truly terrifying snarl on her face, her eyes seeming to glow in anger.

“Princess, has Earthforce dealt with that murderer Darzi?”

“Murderer?” Allura spun back to the two humans on the other screen.

Iverson looked shocked, then angry. He turned on the general. “Is that what Perkins was talking about? Did Darzi actually assault him?”

Benítez slumped her shoulders slightly.

Allura’s eyes widened at the unspoken admission. “Pidge, what are you talking about?”

“Keith just told me! Darzi tried to kill him!”

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