#it probably has more to do with the seven defenders but hey what would i know

[ballsbalb]

3 CBs (saliba, calafiori, gabriel) & 3 DMs (rice, partey, jorginho) against brighton and people slander me for calling arteta ball soulless

[softspiderling]

illicit affairs - part seven | r.c

summary:

The shower was still raining down on you, and if the both of you weren’t buck ass naked, this would probably be incredibly romantic and you’d consider just spilling your guts to him. You exhaled deeply, blinking the water drops out of your lashes. What Rafe said made sense. But were you ready to give up more of him, just because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check?

“So? Are we putting a stop to this?”

OR; You deal with an intruder, lose your temper and Rafe and you take a shower.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: SMUT! 18+ only! (oral male/female receiving)

word count: 2,6k

author's note: long awaited im guessing HAHAHAH i hope you have survived so far. finally introducing the third character of this series.... you all know him. as usual, happy reading and i look forward to hearing about your thoughts <3

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pt. seven: "tell yourself you can always stop"

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

The “intruder” was standing shock still, the two of you staring at each other. You didn’t think that was going to hurt you or anything, but the rollling pin was still raised in the air, ready to strike any second. While you didn’t necessarily share the disdain for pogues as your friends did, it didn’t mean that you trusted him. He broke into your house after all.

JJ Maybank, possibly the definition of a pogue, was standing in your hallway, hands raised in defense as he eyed the rolling pin in your hand. He looked almost bored.

“I said, what the fuck are you doing?” you repeated, your voice strained.

“Uh, standing. What are you doing, princess?”

You let the nickname slide, glaring at him.

“Defending myself against an intruder.”

“Intruder?

JJ barked out a laugh, his hands clutching his stomach like he just heard the funniest joke in his life, though he quickly raised his hands again when you pointed the rolling pin closer at his face.

“You just broke into to my house, what are you if not an intruder?” you asked, affronted.

“I didn’t break in on purpose!”

“Oh, so you just accidentally broke into my house??”

“Hey, to be fair, you left the door unlocked.”

“Are you blaming the victim right now?”

JJ bit back a grin, his hand slowly reaching out to lower the rolling pin. You let him, but remained wary, your arms dropping to your sides.

“What are you doing here JJ?”

JJ took off his cap, running his hand through his messy hair once before putting his cap back on.

You tried to ignore that you thought he was hot.

“I was coming out of Ruby’s and trying not to be seen by anyone, thought I could hide out here for a bit,” he explained and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Ruby Evans? She has a boyfriend.”

“Yeah well that would’ve been good to know before I hooked up with her and almost got caught by said boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes at him. Figured JJ would be caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Obviously you knew JJ, but only really on the surface. You didn’t exactly run in the same circles. But you knew that Rafe didn’t really like him, neither did Topper, but mostly because JJ was John B’s best friend. Kelce didn’t really have much of an opinion except for the fact that he thought JJ was hot, so that was that. What you did know, however, was that JJ shared the same disdain for kooks that Rafe did for pogues, so to catch JJ on the other side of the island was newsworthy.

“I’m surprised you’d get caught up with Ruby,” you said. “I thought you hated kooks.”

JJ merely shrugged, grinning at you.

“Why deprave the female population of the other side of the island of an experience with me only because of something they can’t change?”

You snorted, biting back a laugh because you knew that if he thought you thought he was funny, it was over for you. JJ took the moment to let his eyes wander over you, and you stopped yourself from wrapping the linen shirt around your exposed body. This was your house and you weren’t gonna let someone else make you feel uncomfortable. Much less a guy.

“Had a pool party?”

“Something like that,” you replied, meeting JJ’s gaze straight on. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his boyish grin growing.

“Should I take it personally that I wasn’t invited?”

You gave him a look and JJ winked at you, before his face lit up, like he remembered something.

“Hey, your parents are organizing the spring fling, right?”

“Yes, why?” You asked back, suspicious.

“Well, I was wondering if you could do me a favor…” He started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I need some money to fix up my bike, and the country club always pays well. But the hostess kind of hates my guts, so she’d never hire me if I applied for the job. You think you could put in a good word for me?”

It was odd how JJ was able to switch from sarcastic to bashful the minute he needed something from you. You had heard from other girls that he was something of a womanizer, and the fact that he just came out of Ruby’s house just proved the point. So you tried not to put much worth on the grin he was giving you.

Most people would probably call it charming. You weren’t most people.

“… I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cool,” JJ said, honest to god pointing finger guns at you. This guy was unreal. He turned to leave the way he entered - through the patio door - but before he shut the door, he looked back to you, one foot already out of the house. “You’re not so bad for a kook, princess.”

JJ slipped through the small gap, closing the sliding door behind him. With a deep sigh, you locked the door, pulling down the blinds for good measure before you headed back to the kitchen. You put the rolling pin back in its place, shutting the dishwasher before switching it on, trying to act like that just didn’t happen.

Turning off all the lights downstairs, you headed towards the hallway, preparing to go to bed when two short raps came on the front door before it opened, as Rafe let himself in like he had been invited over. For some reason, it made you mad. You let out a sigh as you took him in and he raised a brow at you.

“You really need to lock the doors when you’re home alone precious,” Rafe commented and you snorted under your breath.

“Tell me about it.”

He shut the door behind him, locking it and you freed your hair from the claw clip, shaking your head out, feeling a migraine coming on.

“Did you really clean up the mess in the kitchen by yourself?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“I would’ve helped you,” Rafe pointed out, annoyed.

“Well, you didn’t exactly tell me that you were staying over,” you retorted, just as annoyed. “Or that you were coming back.”

“Why are you being an asshole?”

Rafe’s irritation was evident in his voice and you let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry Rafe. I’m just tired, okay?” You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling your shoulders slump a little. “If you came to fuck I don’t think I’m really in the mood today, so you can just leave. I’ll just take a shower and go to bed.”

You didn’t wait for an answer and turned to walk into your bedroom upstairs, heading straight to the bathroom. As you stripped down, throwing you bikini and the overshirt in the hamper, you thought you heard the front door shut. You tried not to let the angry tears in your eyes fall as you stepped into the shower, instead, you turned the water on, letting it drench your whole head. Fucker, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t believe that he’d just leave like that. Before all of this, he never would’ve just left.

Then again, you wouldn’t be in this situation either. Was this how it was going to be from now on?

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, you didn’t even heat the door to the bathroom clink open. Only when the glass door of your shower squeaked, you were made aware of Rafe’s presence as he stepped inside. You really had to work on your spatial awareness. He stepped under the shower stream, the water immediately soaking him up, your eyebrows shot up in surprise and Rafe gave you a displeased look, pressing himself against your backside.

You kept quiet for a few seconds, the knot in your chest unfurling slightly, and you found yourself leaning against him.

“I thought you left.”

“You know you’re my best friend, right?”

Rafe’s voice was quiet as he murmured into your ear, his hand coming up behind you to cup around your breast. You bit back a sarcastic reply, because surely this wasn’t something a best friend would do.

“I wouldn’t just leave when I know you’re upset about something, you think you’re just a piece of ass to me?”

“I don’t know what we are these days,” you muttered, half hoping that Rafe didn’t hear you, but based on the way his hand clenched around your waist, he did hear. He turned you around in his arms, frowning down at you.

“Precious,” Rafe said, his voice tight. “You’re my best friend. Yes, the sex is fucking great, but it’s not worth losing you over. If you’re starting to question our friendship, we shouldn’t be doing this anymore.”

The shower was still raining down on you, and if the both of you weren’t buck ass naked as the day you were born, this would probably be incredibly romantic and you’d consider just spilling your guts to him. You exhaled deeply, blinking the water drops out of your lashes, trying to clear your head. What Rafe said made sense. But were you ready to give up more of him, just because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check?

“So? Are we putting a stop to this?”

Rafe took a step back. It was small, he barely moved, but to you it felt like a mile. You couldn’t go back to just being only his best friend, so before he could move away even further, you reached out to pull him back in, leaning on your tiptoes to kiss him. Rafe grunted into the kiss, seemingly hesitant for a second before he all but melted into you, his hand wrapping around your hair to tilt your head further up. You lost yourself in the kiss for a second, your hands intertwining on the nape of his neck before you pulled away when it got too heated.

“I’m too tired for sex,” you said, though you couldn’t deny the warmth unfurling between your legs.

Rafe eyed you for a second, before he nodded, turning you in his arms again, his chest against your back.

“Let me take care of you.“

With a flick of his wrist, he turned the water off, before he ran his hand down your waist, fingers slipping between your thighs. Your breath hitched, pressing further into him.

“Rafe.”

“Relax,” he murmured into the skin of your neck, tongue lapping up the water droplets that clung to your shoulder. “If you want me to stop, I will.”

His hand ventured further down, one finger dipping into the warmth of your folds and you let out a soft sigh, the stress leaving your body. You had half a mind to tell him to stop, you you found yourself saying nothing. Your hand wrapped around his bicep, searching for something to hold onto while the pad of his thumb stroked circles over your most sensitive little spot of nerves, having you moan out his name.

“That’s it,” Rafe said, leaning further down so he could slip his finger into your cunt, your gummy walls opening up to his digits, your knees growing weak. Both of you were still wet from the interrupted shower, and you should’ve been long cold by now, but all you felt was Rafe’s warm body pressed up against you and the heat coiling in your lower stomach. Rafe’s movements weren’t fast paced, but he applied pressure in just the right places, you felt your orgasm coming in no time.

“Shit,” you gasped, laying your head against his chest, catching Rafe’s eyes on you, seeing a hunger in his eyes you couldn’t quite place, but before you could question it, he kissed you, stealing your breath away. The kiss was the last thing that threw you over the edge and with a small, breathy moan you came apart on Rafe’s fingers, clinging onto him for dear life. As you caught your breath, Rafe placed his hands on your waist, steadying you.

“You good?”

You let out a grunt, squeezing his wrist. “You know the shower is one of the most dangerous places to have sex in?”

“… That doesn’t sound right.”

“Shut up,” you huffed, taking your hands off of Rafe, testing your footing, before you turned, getting on your knees.

“Hey, you don’t have to do this.”

“Didn’t I just tell you to shut up?” you asked back, wrapping your hand around his cock and Rafe let out a moan, carding his fingers through your hair. “Your dick has been pressed into my back for the past 15 minutes, let me suck you off.”

“If you insist.”

Rolling your eyes wordlessly, you pumped his cock for a but, before licking a strip along his shaft, making Rafe curse above you. You only smirked to yourself, before you wrapped your lips around his cock, knowing that was all he wanted right now.

“Fuck,” Rafe hissed, his grip on your hair tightening, thought you didn’t mind, your focus solely on sucking the life out of him. Your tongue was pressing against the small slit on his tip as you moved your mouth along the length of his cock, hand still wrapped around his lower base, where you couldn’t quite reach. You weren’t a beginner when it came to cock sucking, but you weren’t a professional either. It was safe to say that Rafe was pretty content with your skills though.

Hollowing out your cheeks, you took in as much of his cock as possible, continuing to suck on him, a mixture of saliva and Rafe’s precum smearing around the edges of your mouth, making a whole mess in your face, though you continued unperturbed.

“Shit, you really give the best head prec-”

Your nails dug into his thighs, and he cut off, replacing your nickname with your real name, and you eased off his thigh, sighing softly as the head of his cock brushed against the back of your throat, hoping it wouldn’t bruise again. It didn’t take long until Rafe slowly started thrusting into your mouth, his hips stuttering that you knew he was close.

“I’m about to come,” he warned you, his voice hoarse and the grip on your hair less hard. You only let out a hum of acknowledgement, not lessening your movement until Rafe spurted his cum down your throat, groaning out your name. You took your mouth off his cock, having swallowed his bitter cum and wiped your mouth, satiated.

Meanwhile, Rafe was leaning on the shower wall, gently extricating his hand out of your wet hair, heaving breaths.

“You’re a minx,” he told you, pulling you up for a quick kiss. You only grinned against his lips, swatting at his bare chest. Nipping on your lower lip, Rafe reached behind you to turn the shower back on, to finally finish what you had come here for in the first place. Together, you showered quickly and thoroughly and as Rafe washed the soapy suds off of you, hands all over your body, it felt intimate but not in a sexual way. You tried not to think about it too much.

When the both of you were done, hands all prune-y, you exited the shower, wrapping yourself in a robe and handing a towel to Rafe so he could dry off. You did a quick run through of your nighttime routine, while Rafe watched bemusedly as he brushed his teeth, but didn’t comment on it. When you were both done, crawling into bed, your hair still damp, you settled into your side of the bed (which was a wild statement in itself, as Rafe turned off the light in the bedroom, before getting in bed on the other side. You were content to fall asleep, safe and soundly tucked in, when Rafe reached under the blankets to pull you close against his chest, tucking his chin into the crook of your neck.

Your cheeks heated, and you side eyed Rafe as he got comfortable in bed, your shoulders tense.

“I meant what I said,” he then muttered, arms wrapped around your waist. “If you ever feel like our friendship is changing or this makes me feel like you can’t trust me, you gotta tell me precious. I don’t want to lose my best friend.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you mumbled, laying a hand on his, trying to reassure him, even though your heart was racing a mile a minute. Rafe didn’t reply, and before long, his breath evened out, but you were still wide awake.

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author's note: okay real talk, how many of you guessed who the intruder was???

[mischelmayleys]

CHAPTER 2

As Ingird let me through their apartment I noticed how spot on it was. Everything had its place and was dusted off. A cat came to sniff my legs as we entered, making me bend down and pat its fur letting out a soft smile at the bal of fur.

“Okay so your room is right next to ours so if you need anything you can just come to us.” Ingrid explained as she opened the door to the room.

It was mostly a bare room with a nice king size bed in the middle and TV right on the opposite wall. As we walked it I spotted the big window where in front of it was a dest with some plants and a laptop.

“We didn’t know if you needed a laptop for school or not, but we figured you can just use it for whatever you want. It has netflix in it as well as the TV.” Ingird explained, probably seeing me eyeing it.

I didn’t know what to say: “I…thank you.”

She smiled softly at me and went to put a hand on my shoulder which made me flinch: “Hey don’t worry I just wanted to dust off your top.” She pointed her finger on my shoulder which had a bit of blood on it from the fight yesterday.

“Oh, that’s just um…” I started to say but Maria came literally running into the room with my bags on her shoulders.

“I don’t know if Ingrid already told you but we can do whatever you want with the room, we can paint the wall or buy new sheets, some decorations?” She was rambling and it made me look at Ingrid for help.

“Maria calm down, she just got here.” Maria stopped talking and apologized.

“It is okay. Can I use the bathroom please?” I asked not knowing where it was.

Ingrid nodded and pointed to a door in the back of my room: “There, it’s just yours.” I stared at her in shock. Did I just get my own room WITH a bathroom?

“We will let you settle down a bit, if you need anything we are in the kitchen.” Maria said and they left me alone.

I breathed out as they closed the door and I looked at my hands. They were bruised and they hurt less than yesterday but it started to get worse again due to me picking up the skin on my fingers. With a shaky breath I went to the bathroom, and carefully washed my hands under the water. It stinged and I hissed.

I replied to the fight in my head, it wasn’t my fault…I was just protecting myself. I might not have friends in school but outside it was better. Rodrigo was one of my closest friends to many people. He seemed like a bad person, but he was a sweet guy deep down. We met when I was at my first foster home when I was seven and he was ten. I saw him in a park where he had just fallen from his skateboard and I went to help him and since then we were attached to him until he started to hang out with the wrong people.

He is twenty now to my sixteen, and still he is my rock. I came to his flat more than I was to my different foster parents. And the fight happened because of him.

Flashback:

I was sitting next to Rodrigo on a couch as he smoked some weed and I just casually smoked cigarettes. His other friends were split all over his place and just doing nothing at all.

“So…you ran away again.” Rodrigo said to me as he turned my way.

I nod: “Yeah, what was I supposed to do? Get myself killed.” he gave me a soft smile and put his hand on my thigh: “Don’t worry, you can stay here if you want.”

I chuckled a bit: “Nah, I don’t think your friends would appreciate me sleeping in here.”

“You are right, we don’t want this chick sleeping here.” Someone from the other side of the room yelled as Rodrigo went to stand up and defend me but I pulled him back down: “don’t.” He huffed and sat down but couldn’t keep his mouth shut: “Shut up Diego, you bring here sluts and I can’t have here my friend?!”

It was the wrong move and from that time on, one of the only things I remember is that Diego hit first. They were punching each other hard and somehow I stood up and went to split them up.

And that was when Diego grabbed me so to my self defense I hit.

The only other thing I remember is police breaking into the apartment and separating us from each other.

I shook my head as a shiver went down my spine. I stopped the water and walked back into my room and took it all in again.

The fresh sheets.

The Tv and laptop looked completely brand new.

There was a thing I didn’t acknowledge the first time.

It was a framed Barcelona jersey. It had Alexia along with the number 11 written on the back. Alexia…Alexia… I tried to think about where I heard it before. I took out my phone and went to google it until I realized I didn’t have any wifi or data. I sigh and go to the laptop placed on the table and carefully open it. It was connected to a which I assumed was Ingrids and Maria's wifi.

I opened google and wrote about Alexia Fc Barcelona. So much information came up, that’s when I realized it’s THE Alexia, which people in my old school were always talking about. Alexia was the best footballer in the world. It’s not like I didn’t know that Barcelona had a female team, I just never had the opportunity to see them play, I never had a Tv before or money to go to see them play. There was one picture that caught my eye. It was a full squad photo, that’s when I saw them…Ingrid and Maria both being in the picture dressed in their very own kit.

I am living with famous football players…

I didn’t know if that was good or not. They are probably going to travel all the time and not have time for me…great so no need to get close to them. Since they are public figures, they wouldn't hurt a kid…at least I hoped so.

I closed the google and leaned back into the chair. What am I supposed to do now? Unpack?

The question in my head was quickly answered when my phone ding with a message.

Rodrigo: Come over?

I pursued my lips and looked at the closed door and then out of the window. It had the railing and stairs there…great way for escape.

INGRID POV:

Eliza was quiet in her room, we thought she would come out by now to eat dinner, but we didn’t want her to feel pressured so we stayed at the table waiting for her.

Mapi was texting away on her phone when she suddenly put it down: “I am going to look at her.” I nod as I waited.

She came quickly running back to me.

I frowned: “Why are you running what happened?”

Mapi had a worried look on her face: “She is not in her room.”

I quickly stood up: “What do you mean? Maybe she is just in the bathroom.”

“No, she is not anywhere and the window is open so I think she sneaked out.” Mapi said as she sat down on the chair and put her head into her hands. I ran my hand through her hair.

“Well…we know what the social worker told us. We are going to wait for her return.” I said quietly not really believing we won’t go looking for her

[lonelychicago]

tagged by the lovely @daffi-990 🩷

here's another moodboard from my hunger games au and a lil snippet!

"Is he the one behind you? Can I get a few words from him?" Taylor raises an eyebrow, trying to peak over Eddie's shoulder. "Buck, is that how you called him?"

He crosses his arms defensively against his chest. "No."

He'll be damned if he lets Taylor fucking Kelly make a spectacle out of Buck (or any of the tributes, for that matter) just for a few giggles and views from the Capitol citizens that have nothing better to do than watch her atupud, cheesy, pathetic News Channels.

"You never make it easy, do you, Diaz?" Taylor still has that charming, toothy smile plastered on her face but Eddie notices the slight pinch in the corner of her eyes and how her gaze flashes with annoyance and dislike.

Eddie gets a weird sense of smugness and satisfaction bursting in his chest at the sight.

Then, one of the kids pushes forward and reaches a hand inside the cage, his tiny little fingers wiggling as if willing a tribute to come close.

To Eddie's horror, Buck does.

"Hey there." He says, soft and caredul. A small, weak smile tugging at his lips.

Everyone else falls silent, a mix of weariness and worry from a tribute being close to a kid, and a sense of curiosity and anticipation hanging in the air.

If anyone would be able to stop time like that, Eddie thinks, that would be Evan Buckley. Brave and reckless like no one he's met before. "I saw you on television." The little kid says, his face glued to the cage. He's probably not older than six or seven, if Eddie had to guess. "I saw you defending your sister?"

"You did?" Buck lights up a bit at the mention of Maddie.

"Yeah. I have a sister too." The kid says. "Her name is Annie."

"That's a pretty name." Buck whispers. "My sister is Maddie. She is pretty cool. My favorite person in this world, by far." Eddie swallows thickly at that.

The kid reaches until he's softly barely ghosting his fingers over Buck's cheek. "I hope you win." He says, more somber than any kid should be at that age. "So you can go back to your sister."

At that, Buck's breath catches and he blinks rapidly, his eyes looking awfully glassy. "Thanks, kiddo."

Everyone is so enthralled by the moment happening in front of them that they don't notice Buck never says "I hope so, too." or the way his voice sounds defeated, resigned. Sad.

Eddie does, though, and he aches with the weight of what it means.

He promises himself he'll do anything in his power to make sure Buck does go back home to his sister.

tagging (no pressure): @buddierights @hoodie-buck @monsterrae1 @gayedmundodiaz @hippolotamus @honestlydarkprincess @malewifediaz @spotsandsocks @spaceprincessem @the-likesofus @underwater-ninja-13 @watchyourbuck @jeeyuns @jamespearce9-1-1 @exhuastedpigeon @tails89 @rainbow-nerdss @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @housewifebuck @maygrantgf @bigfootsmom @eddiebabygirldiaz @thewolvesof1998 @buckaroosheart and anyone else who wants to do it <33

[nrilliree]

Sanctimonius sermons about how Daemon and Rhaenyra are 'inherently abusive' because he is older and it's an incestuous relationship which is why the writers have to show it fall flat on their faces when you notice how the show has chosen to depict Corlys and his relationship with Rhaenys.

Certain facts about Corlys in canon:

Older than Rhaenys' father Aemon

Is related to Rhaenys because of the Velaryons and the Targaryens' generational intermarriages so yayyy more incest

Made no secret about his designs on the throne

Would rather have his bastards inherit Driftmark before his granddaughters

Sired the said bastards on a girl younger than his children

We are given no details about the nature of his relationship with Marilda so speculation is all that can be done. For her sake, I hope it was based in mutual attraction because he clearly had the power to coerce her.

It is both hilarious and insanely hypocritical when the writers and fans alike try to preach and defend their abysmal choices about Daemon to the point of including events that were never present in the books when most of Corlys' scenes on the show have been framed in positive light and have humanized him. Even his action of trying to marry his 12 year old daughter to Viserys got swept under the rug because they can't emphasize enough on how much he loves his wife. It has to be noted that the canonical age difference between him and Rhaenys was erased on the show because they, for whatever reason, aged her up.

Now, this is not me hating on Corlys. He is a flawed but interesting character. But the double standards in the show's writing makes me wonder whether our most esteemed writers ever read the books or did they obtain most their information from Green infested fandom spaces on Reddit. The less said about their apologists, the better.

"Yeah, we are making stuff about Daemon that wasn't in the books because y'all need to see for yourselves how abusive he is and not romanticize him like that stupid girl Rhaenyra who, we made sure, learned her lesson on the show. What do y'all even see in him? He isn't Han Solo or Paul Rudd.

But, hey look at how much Corlys loves his wife? Isn't he a great husband? So what if he is a much older relative and cheated? Look at our uwu Aegon who was never taught the meaning of consent. Look at our precious Alicent who groomed her daughter from a young age to be a broodmare for her rapist son has toiled in the service of men her entire life."

Eve and Steve have a seven-year age difference between them, so undeniably the age difference between them in the series is much, much smaller than in the book, where it was probably over twenty years. I don't know, the creators wanted to not only lower Alicent's age and raise Viserys' age, but also reduce the age difference between Rhaenys and Corlys to make Alicent look like an even bigger THE victim of marriage?

In the book, Rhaenys married Corlys when she was sixteen, and Marilda was also sixteen when Corlys got her pregnant, so he undeniably has a thing for girls who are much younger than him. Which Daemon is accused of, even though Laena in the book was 23 on the day she married him, and Rhaenyra was even older.

This is very strange to me and I only explain it by the fact that Corlys has a reduced tariff with TG stans and they don't accuse him of his sins (just like they don't do it when it comes to Aegon, Aemond, Criston or anyone wearing the "right" color). , because according to them, Corlys betrayed Rhaenyra and joined the TG. We know it's not true because he only protected his sons' lives and then acted against Aegon II and crowned Aegon III, but for TG stans the only thing that matters is that they can point the finger and shout "ha, he betrayed Rhaenyra".

[luveline]

hi jade i hope life is treating you well <33 would you please write something for the asf universe maybe where fred invites ghost to come with him to something that he has to go to, and ghost doesn’t know how to say no so she tries to drag herself there despite how exhausted and sad she is, thank you for everything, take care of yourself <33

thank you for your request lovely! fem!reader, 2k

cw for mental health issues

Eyes dry as sand, you lean down in the hallway of Lee's flat to retie your shoelace. You'd done them haphazard, late to get ready. Fred doesn't notice you've stopped, swinging around the corner, each part of him beside his fingers on the doorway disappearing from view. 

"Hey, guys. Alicia, what have you done to your hair?"

"I've dyed it."

"I can see that. Feeling morose, were you?" He pauses. You look up in anticipation of his confused gaze. "Love?" he asks. 

You spring up with your shoelace half tied again to meet him in the doorway. Easy, Fred wraps his arm around your shoulders. He is, unquestionably, showing you off to his friends. "Hi guys," you say. 

You don't mind talking to them —they're not the problem, his merry band of twenty-somethings, reminiscent of their school selves but with enough piercings, tattoos, and bold haircuts to tell the difference. You're different enough that half of them didn't recognise you the first time they saw you again after leaving school, Lee Jordan's ill-fated birthday party, Freddie and a handful of bruised knuckles. You're the girl Fred defended unshakingly. It bought you a lot of street cred. 

What's so special about her that Fred would bother making such a mess? they must think. You honestly don't have a clue. It has more to do with Fred's big heart than your deserving, probably. 

"Hey," Angelina says, knees up at the table, a coke sweating down her arm. "Thank god you're here, George hasn't shut about you both since you cancelled on him." 

"I had salmonella," Fred says, arm steadfast behind you as he guides you into the kitchen. He encourages you into an empty chair by Angelina, likely George's considering the familiar worn wallet laid out by an empty coke. "Couldn't really de-salmonella myself." 

"Freddie!" Lee says, bottles clinking together in his hand. 

"Alright?" Fred asks. 

"Man, I'm glad you got here early. I wanted to talk to you about Melena before her lot come over at seven. Her gran just died so now she has a lot of money and nothing to do with it." 

"I don't like being responsible for other people's money," Fred says, his hand toying with the back of your shirt as he talks. Totally distracted, doting on you anyhow. 

"I thought you'd say that." 

You pick George's wallet up, unthinking. Neither of the twins has ever felt much possession of their possessions, nor have they ever withheld anything from you, and so you've a lack of manners all their blame. You run your thumb over the plastic window where a photo of Molly holding a smaller, younger Ginny on her knee takes centre stage. 

"Hello," George says, his reappearance surprising you enough to lose your grip on the wallet. His arms cleave you from Fred's grasp, all guy smells and squeezes as he hugs you roughly. "Things aren't so dire as to pickpocket me, surely." 

Fred is your very best friend on the whole planet. George is an extremely close second. You smile at the fierce pressure of his arms and pat him on the wrist. 

"Sorry, I was being nosey." 

"Wait, I've forgotten I was mad at you." 

"For what?" you ask, though you know.

"You didn't come to game night! What the fuck, ghost? Fred had salmonella, whatever, but you weren't sick. I missed you." 

I didn't feel well enough to come without Fred, you almost say, but it's still not fair. George really is a best friend. "I should've come. I'm sorry," you say. 

"That's okay. Come to the next one, yeah?" He stands up, giving your back a whack and a half. "You okay?" 

Honestly? No. You're tired. You don't feel like a very good person, and being with your friends makes it worse. You would've said no to coming tonight, but it's not as easy as it is with George to say no to Fred. Fred asks you for things, hand on your hand or your elbow or your knee, and you can't entertain letting him down.

"We've been invited to Lee Jordan's for drinks next Friday," he'd said. At that moment your shins were over his lap, his new phone precariously held in his long fingers, "you'll come, won't you? It was rubbish without you last time." 

"Yeah," you'd said immediately. "Course." 

Why? you think now, a sharp knife of dread sliding beneath your ribs. What a stupid idea. Your hands are clammy where you wipe them in the knees of your jeans, your mouth uncooperative as you answer George's inquiry. "I'm okay. How are you? Did you get your new sofa yet?" 

The night pulls on in dribs and drabs. You're better at hiding how you feel now you've reason to hide it, someone who loves you enough to pay attention, but it always shines through. Like grease on silk held up to the light, the pervasive oiliness of how you feel seeping, seeping. You jump from room to room, bump shoulders with people you know and strangers alike, swap a coke for a vodka and, at Fred's proud production, an ice cold mimosa with a fresh orange slice hooked on the rim. 

"A mimosa? At 9PM?" you ask, taking it anyway. 

"Vitamin D, doll. It's good for you." Kiss to the top of your head. Fred is stolen away again by an old friend. You sit in the pit of a deep chair, the comfiest, softest seat in the house, a fresh drink in hand, music you like playing to the left and a shouted promise of pizza and potato wedges called from the kitchen. 

Everybody cheers. You take a sip of your drink and decide to go home. You can sidle up to George and tell him you're not feeling well, he can tell Fred when your boyfriend notices you're gone. No one will panic, and there will be no need for him to go home. 

But Fred doesn't work that way. Doesn't trust you to tell the truth about how you're feeling; you're a liar, and he knows you'll undersell the weight of whatever it is that's wrong. 

When George pops by to steal your drink, you don't spin a lie about headaches or cramps. 

You're loved into telling the truth. 

Fred wanders back your way eventually. He sees it on your face (he must), the disconnect between your eyes and your surroundings. It isn't everything about you —you see him approaching and you smile, opening an eager hand to his arm— but he's well read in your feelings. He hips you along the big chair and sits back, pulling you with him, his arm again protectively held over your shoulders as he tucks you into his neck.

"You look tired, lovely girl," he says, his voice weak in the quiet.

"I'm trying not to be." 

"I don't think it's something you can try your way out of." Stronger, fonder, he's reassured by your smile, but he knows you better than anyone. "You've drunk your mimosa!" 

"George," you correct.

"Ah. Did you like it at all?" he asks. 

Things don't always taste right to you. "The fizzing was making my nose hurt." 

Fred turns your face to his. "Not your gorgeous nose," he laments, lips barely parted. He strokes you cheek with the soft pad of his thumb like he's trying to smooth away a line, eyes pinching into a squint. Handsome squint on a handsome boy. 

"I'm okay." You answer before he can ask.

"I know. Wish you'd said something earlier, is all." 

"I can't… ruin your fun. Every night." 

"Every night," he repeats. He tips your chin up to kiss you. "That's ridiculous," he says when he leans back. "You don't ruin any fun, ghost. You make it fun." 

"Make what fun?" you ask, sounding more and more tired with each word. You mumble into his shirt. "This should be fun… don't know what's wrong with me."

Fred goes soft like butter in the sun, though what's warming about your limp disposition is anyone's guess. "You're sick of hearing me say this," he begins, words slow, "but you have no reason to… feel so disgusted with yourself. I can hear it, sometimes… in your voice. You don't have to know what's wrong with you, you don't have to force yourself to have fun, you don't have to be so angry. Not with my girl, she doesn't deserve it." He kisses your cheek, a sudden cheerful punctuation to his serious moments. "You feel rubbish, you don't know why. It doesn't matter, so long as you can feel better in the end." 

"I'm just tired," you say, as you've said a hundred times before. 

"You're always tired." 

It makes your throat ache, that simple acknowledgement. 

"You can kip on me if you want to," he says. 

"Here?" you ask. 

He shrugs, jostling your shoulder. "Don't see why not. Unless you want to go home. We can go home, sweetheart."

It's unsaid. Staying here, even when you don't feel good, will mitigate the guilt you'd feel if you dragged him home. He doesn't care, he'd never hold it against you, but you're paranoid anyways, and self-hating to a fault. There's no need to add fuel to that fire, so you can stay. But if you really can't manage it, Fred will take you home. 

"Maybe I'll just lean on you, for a bit." You meet his eyes fully, brown and big and looking down at you with a shiny kind of love. "If that's okay." 

Fred drops his arm to the small of your back and wraps it around, his thumb searching for your Jean pocket. He hooks it there, his chin rubbing a short line into your temple. "Oh no, my beautiful girlfriend wants to snuggle. Whatever will I do." 

"You don't have to, Freddie. You can enjoy your party. I could just go home." 

"I don't want you to go home," he whispers, a secret. "I want to be where you are. I like parties, but I like you more." 

"Are you sure?" you ask. 

Fred lays back with the affect of a gluttonous Prince, as though he has everything he wants right there at his disposal. You can't imagine being the pretty girl under his arm, and yet you are. No matter how awful your head hurts, he makes you feel like you've nothing to be ashamed of. It's the kindest thing he can do. 

"Take a breather," he says. "Let's have fifteen minutes. If you feel worse, we'll go home. 'Kay?" 

You look at his lap, curling your fingers into the hem of his pressed button down. "Okay. Thanks, baby." 

He sounds pleased at the pet name. "Melena's coming over here. Quick, pretend to be sleeping. I'll stroke the back of your neck if you promise not to laugh." 

[nightmarerodent]

Expecting the Unexpected (part 1? IDK)

A Jakeda one shot that’s no longer a one shot because it got a bit out of hand (as they tend to do)

Jacqui’s heart dropped to her stomach and lodged itself in her throat all at once when she was read the results from the doctor. Positive. Without a shadow of a doubt. The test she took at home wasn’t a fluke. She was pregnant. She was undeniably pregnant. What the hell was she going to tell Takeda?

They were carful. Usually. As careful as two people that rarely got any alone time could be, married or otherwise. Her father was still pissed about that. He never got behind the idea that her and Takeda were going to be a forever thing. He hated that he, and by extension now her as well, was a Shirai Ryu, and Scorpion’s adopted son no less. News that she was now knocked up might just put her dad over the edge enough for him to finally make good on his promises and actually kill the poor boy. It was not a conversation she was looking forward to. At all.

She went home that day in a daze, mind a million miles away from her body. At least she had the wherewithal to go to a clinic in town and not the hospital on base. This way news wouldn’t spread as quickly. If people were going to find out, she wanted it to be on her terms. And putting off the lecture Auntie Sonya was undoubtedly going to give them would be nice too.

Cassie was the first to find out. Takeda was still gone, out on some mission for the clan, and probably wouldn’t be back for the next few days. She was bursting to tell someone, to get advice or reassurance, something, and Cassie knew something was wrong with her best friend. She’s noticed Jacqui behaving strangely; she was more tired and had excused herself more than once to use the bathroom, only to be found vomiting a few moments later. So Cassie showing up at her on base housing with take out and a worried look after Jacqui’s visit to the doctor was unsurprising. Nor was her reaction.

“Pregnant!?” Cassie was out of her chair in an instant, “Are you sure? For how long? Does Tak know?”

“No. I only found out yesterday. And I’m only seven weeks along.” Jacqui told her.

“Am I the first you’ve told? Aw, JB.” Cassie moved to hug her and Jacqui gratefully accepted.

A small weight felt like it lifted off Jacqui and it was enough for what strength she tried to carry since receiving the news to finally break. Tears welled up in her eyes and she began to tremble.

“What am I going to do? This wasn’t part of the plan. Not yet. I’m going to be discharged. My career is over.” Jacqui sobbed.

“Hey, no it’s not. Briggs’s don’t quit,” Cassie reassured her, “You’re the smartest, most badass, most determined person in SF and you’re going to have the smartest most badass baby to ever grace Earthrealm. If the brass has a problem with that then they can kiss my glowing green fist.”

“I can’t defend Earthrealm and have a baby, Cass. They’re going to kick me out. It’s protocol.”

“Says who? Have you forgotten who runs this place? I mean, I wasn’t planned and I sure as hell didn’t stop my mom from pursuing her career.” Cassie pulled back on the hug so she could look her friend in the eye but still held her close.

“Auntie was way further along in her career than I am. She was a commander when she had you, I’m just another Sargent.”

“That’s married to the second in command of one of our most important allies. No one if firing you without pissing off Hanzo. Or me. Or Tak, but most importantly me. Trust me, we got you. You’re not going anywhere. I promise.”

Jacqui wanted to believe her. She really, truly did, but the fear was overwhelming. This whole situation was overwhelming. She didn’t even know if she wanted to be a mom. She was open to the idea. Her and Takeda have talked about it, sure, but always as some vague eventuality, off in the far distance that was some undefined future. A wishful daydream of peaceful times not filled with oni from the netherrealm or some new nightmare crawling out of god knows where in Out World. Now it was being thrown into her face in a time of such uncertainty. And Takeda wasn’t here.

But he will be, she reminded herself. He will be back in a few days and they’ll figure this out together. Always together. That was their promise. And Takeda never breaks a promise.

“You’re going to be an amazing mother,” Cassie believed every word she said with her whole being, “And Takeda is going to be the greatest dad. He already has the humor of one.”

That actually got a chuckle out of her, “His jokes are so bad but he looks so happy when he tells them.”

Over the next few days Cassie kept her promise and didn’t tell a single soul what she knew. She covered for Jacqui too, claiming a stomach bug that Jacqui was too stubborn to acknowledge whenever she was caught throwing up. Cass was always ready with a convincing lie and had the acting chops to pull it off too. She was a Cage after all.

Jin at one point commented that she looked terrible, causing Jacqui to start crying uncharacteristically, blabbering that she felt gross, freaking him out. He immediately started apologizing, saying that she looked fine, it was a joke, she was supposed to snap at him and they’d have their witty back and forth and then she’d punch him like always. It was their thing. She just cried more. She didn’t want to punch him. She never wanted to punch him. He was her friend and she was always so mean to him and she was sorry. This only freaked him out more. He just bear hugged her and desperately looked around for Cassie because this was not his department. He had no clue what to do with a crying Briggs or what was causing it. Was she possessed? Did she need medical attention? Chocolate? A cat? Where was Takeda when you needed him? What was happening? Eventually Cassie showed up and got Jacqui to calm down back to normal but Kung Jin was thoroughly freaked out by that point and refrained from being his usual sarcastic self for the remainder of the day.

All the while, Cassie kept an ear out for news about Takeda’s return. She was hell bent and determined to have Jacqui be the first thing he sees when he exists the transport or portal. When she finally received word after a few days that he’d be returning within the hour, she booked to tell Jacqui. She’s never run so fast in her life.

The second Takeda stepped out of the portal he was hit with the force that was his wife barreling into him and wrapping him into a desperate hug. One he was equally as desperate to return. Before he could even breathe so much as a word, she had already grabbed his face and pulled him into a forceful kiss. He wasn’t complaining. He chuckled as they pulled away from each other, jokingly asking if she missed him, only for the smile to drop and worry to set in as he noticed her nervous smile and wet eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” He asked.

“Only good things,” she told him, “I just- I really missed you.”

As soon as they were alone back at home she told him. A whole mix of emotions flew across his face in a matter of seconds. Shock, disbelief, confusion, fear, joy. He finally settled on ecstatic as he hugged her tight, laughing, and asking her a whole slew of questions. She was relieved he took it so well, though she wondered why she had thought any different. He was always the one that brought the topic up, even if it was just as a hypothetical. He wanted kids. He never said it in as many words or so directly, but it was clear to her it was a thing he desired. His infectious joy was evidence of that.

They celebrated the way couples that were young and in love do, Takeda becoming completely unable to keep his hands to himself for more than a fraction of a second and her being more than willing to receive any and all affection he was able to give. By the end of the night they were curled up together, his arms wrapped around her and a hand pressed gently against her stomach where their future was growing, peppering her with kisses and muttering sweet nothings.

Uncertainty still hung in the air. How they were going to make this work. How they were going to tell people. What their positions as Earthrealm’s defenders would look like now. How and where they were going to raise the child. If they were even fit to be parents in the first place. All conversations they were going to have to have sooner rather than later. But, for now, for a moment, they were allowed to be happy and unashamed. Opinions and outsiders be damned.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

preemptively sorry for how fucking long this is it is YOUR FAULTT THOUGH!!!! large bowl of seeds for u. it is almost 2am sorry.

SO. there are. two ways to assign the prime defenders powers etc. the first way is just, like, categorize their existing powersets within the prt framework, & the second is to give them entirely new abilities based on the way worm works. delightfully, all the powers they Do have work really well for the most part, so even that doesn't require a ton of shuffling.

categorizing their pre-existing powers:

wiwi-- breaker w/ a shaker subclass. neither of them rated very high, but that's already a rare and versatile enough combination!!

dakota-- brute babeeeey!!! brute/mover its so straightforward. hell yeah babey. i don't know what he'll end up looking like post-heart removal & stuff but my guess is that'll end up looking more like a mover/striker.

vyncent-- now THIS one gave me trouble. i... hm. to say this without talking about stuff that i don't think has come up much already, (hey!! you're at that clockblocker pov! directly related to what flechette says!) i'd call him a grab-bag cape, irt the greats at least. post-greats-- again, i don't know what his powerset will look like after this arc! but if he's going all in w/ the fire magic, that would for sure be some striker shit! :]]]

giving them new powers... man i'm reining myself in so hard from five more paragraphs on Why exactly i'm saying all this.

wiwi still breaker for sure, maybe breaker-master, maybe master-stranger. yknow. powers are fluid, the prt categories are pretty rigid. i... don't know. enough about his situation yet to be clearer than that vague idea yet-- i really like the idea of him just. ditching his body & using a noncorporeal form but he still has to keep an eye on his body i think that's great. the noncorporeal form would b able to change its visibility but still b limited by proximity to the body. & fluctuating energy shit powered by fluctuating amounts of recent-death in the area, maybe probably also limited in that it's only accessible in his breaker form.... also i think u will appreciate this style note from the [UNNAMED PARAHUMANS TTRPG] i'm referencing a lot here.

dakota--in this situation he probably would not. have that mechanical heart and shit. he' would still be a mover/thinker-- thinker rating is for faster mental processing + senses imminent pain for the people in his immediate vicinity. not danger, just pain; it immediately registers ambiently & can be generally traced back to whoever it is. no he can't turn it off ever, it manifests as feeling a similar level of pain, yes it works on himself. + mover-- he can fucking fly. no super strength, just very fast flight & the general "won't splat himself flying into something" capabilities, which meshes well w/ the faster processing & reflexes. i'm split on how exactly this would work mechanically but i will NOT go into that now. i am also not going into the 15k discussion in my brain on why dakota 'notoriously bad at thinking about things' cole would be a thinker but u gotta trust the process ok??

vyncent-- trump!!!! somehow this is the only straightforward one to me? he can copy powers at the full strength or ability level of the original for an unspecified amount of time that's usually 1-30 minutes by touching the cape. crucially, he doesn't have any edge on how to use these powers + can easily misuse or become extremely overwhelmed by them. he's easily the most powerful out of the three of them <33

ashe-- ashe is NOT HERE currently and also it's 1:30 am so i gotta go fucking sleep soon BUT they would be a master. easy. :o) they can make some lil guys n do stuff with them!!!!

in general these are pretty fucking cracked abilities, all of them would b oosely above a seven or so in a number rating once they're really settled in their powers-- this is mostly because i'm assuming that they would still be heirs-apparent to the prime force equivalent, which would b the triumvirate :]] anyway. good lord. this is like the cliff notes edition of what i've been thinking and scribbling in the notes app for the past several hours. sorry if it's fucking incomprehensible. gn!!! <333

AAAAAH FUCK YESSSSSS OKAY OKAY OKAY my response is probably going to be equally as long. so it's fine. oooouh buddy.

I KNOW WHAT BREAKER MEANS NOW !!! I dontttt think ive learned shaker yet. breaker is like.... breaking the laws of physics/shifting planes or whatever. PERFECT for william hell yes. for putting them actually in worm world ... ughhhh breaker/master william is REALLY cool. I havwnt learned stranger yet but i think he would develop a complex over being classified as stranger <3 (like how weld doesn't like that he's classified as a brute even though that's not exactly what it means, he just doesn't like the word) . GODDDD just thinking abt putting pd boys in worm is fucking me up haven't they been through enough. I want to see them all in a fit of despair. william ditching his body is SO good I miss when he would do that, also the powers being limited by how far away he is AND THE AMOUNT OF RECENT DEATH IN THE AREA. holy shit. that's so fucking good . im sure he would not overthink at all the fact that he is stronger when more people around him have died . I'm sure he'd do awesome in the leviathan fight for sure for sure .

DAKOTA BRUTE <3 DAKOTA BRUTE/MOVER I LOVE THIS A LOTTTTTT hellbyes. awesome. it's so perfect for him <3 worm world I'm SURPRISED u didn't stick with brute for him. eyes emoji. I trust your judgement but now i am Thinking... Hmm..... YOU BRING INTO QUESTION something I have been thinking about. and I'm going to probably get derailed a little here but stay with me. how the way powers manifest directly relate to the trigger event. because for a WHILE before we learned taylors I was like "OH i bet the powers are going to be directly related to what traumatic thing happened to them" and then we learn about taylor and grue and a couple more and I kind of lost that theory because while you can. technically draw relations between their powers and their events it seemed like too much of a stretch to do . HOWEVER now my thinking has changed AGAIN and I think the powers ARE related to specific trigger events but it's not as straightforward as "oh something scary happened to you with bugs so now you have bug powers" I think it's gonna be more complicated than that. WHICH. THE WAY THIS RELATES. BACK ON TOPIC NOW. to DAKOTA . assuming his trigger event is still he and katori falling off the building I think it's AWESOME that his powers would manifest as FLIGHT for one. and the fucking. pain sense thing. fuck me up. dakota extreme hero complex cole would be so fucked up by a power where he ambiently senses pain from the people around him at all times and cannot turn it off. I'm sure he would feel so normal about being around william chronic pain wisp 24/7. also I can SO CLEARLY imagine how this power specifically would lead to him getting super overwhelmed in chaotic situations like he does in canon. and just fucking. bolt out of there because it's too much. again. he'd have such a wonderful time in the leviathan fight

I AM AT CLOCKBLOCKER POV !!!! actually technically I'm on kid win pov now but I haven't finished his chapter yet. vyncent grab bag cape..... yeah... I think it would be EXTREMELY funny imagining the PRT in pd world trying 2 classify vyncent like. what the fuck does this kid do . what do we do with him. hes got other guys in his head that give him powers. is he a master??? no he can't fucking control them. is he a striker??? only SOMETIMES. is he a blaster?? AGAIN ONLY SOMETIMES. cannot classify him bitch!!!!!!!! giving him worm powers though.. UGH. being able to touch someone and COMPLETELY copy their powers but only for a short period of time???? I fucking love that a lot. he WOULD be the most powerful out of them!!! I can hear taylors inner analysis dialogue about him now and it's very similar to the clockblocker "DONT LET HIM.TOUCH YOU" panic. loooove imagining this playing off of the rest of pd,,, i know there was AT LEAST one time where he had william sort of transfer some of his ghost powers for a minute? I think it was during the lich fight in the theatre but i just remember vycnent floating and going intangible and NOT KNOWING how to control it or anything. loveeee that. in world dynamics I feel like vyncent would be a late addition to their team (instead of coming from another world maybe he just. had his trigger event happen way later than the other two..or something.) and not trusting them as much at first/being REALLY shaky using either of their powers but after a while being really comfortable in a fight with using either Williams or dakotas powers in a fight. Just like. imagining the fluidity of how they'd work together in a tense situation assuming they're not being complete dumbasses <3333 UGH it's really good

AAAASHE ASHE ASHE IM SOOO SO GLAD YOU INCLUDED ASHE IN THIS I miss him.so much every day. from what I know so far master involves having/making/controlling some sort of minion (cannot think of a better word than that rn) AND I THINK THATS REALLYYYY perfect for ashe. i assume he would actually work pretty closely to canon in that his limitation would be the book? or if he doesn't have the book maybe his limitation would be a) having only a few different types of things he could summon (the big hand, the water fairy, duck etc) and/or b) only being able to control them.for a short amount of time after they're summoned so he has to be quick about dismissing them. can't keep the demon hand around for too long or it might start picking things up and throwing them at random. putting teammates in danger bc he can't control it anymore etc etc. alsooooooo in clockblocker pov they VERY briefly mentioned the possibility of having secondary trigger events (?!!!!?!?!) and you know I locked onto that SO FUCKING HARD. ashe being born with powers and then his secondary trigger event being his mom's death <3 im.NOT even going to attempt to talk about how the trickster would work in worm world/if it would even exist in this setting bc i don't know enough about the types of powers and things yet..but just know. I am keeping this in the back of my mind "this is a fun surprise tool that will help us later" style

[horizonthetransient]

On Lightning Bolts And Science Fiction/Fantasy

Or, “Chainmail won’t protect you from a thunderstorm, but it will protect you from a Sith.”

So, in real life, there are these things called Tesla Coils. They’re these big electric machines that shoot off little bolts of high-voltage, low-current lightning. These days, everything practical they can do can be done better by something else, so they’re pretty much solely decorative, but damn if they aren’t still good at that. One thing that you might like to see are some dudes dancing with Tesla Coils while wearing chainmail suits. Go on, click the link. I’ll wait for you.

As you can see in the video, electricity follows the path of least resistance. Metal has way less electrical resistance than human flesh, and so if electricity can flow through metal instead of flesh, it will. These men, who are wearing chainmail suits, are pretty much impossible to hurt with tesla coils, because instead of the electricity going through their nerves and organs, it’ll always go through the far-more-conductive metal instead.

Now, if you’re anything like me, you may be thinking “hey, shouldn’t this mean that my D&D character who wears a suit of metal armor should be more defended against lightning, not less?” And I think you’re right! But alas, if you actually voice this opinion, you will likely be met with a common counterargument:

“A lightning bolt has like a zillion megawatts of power! Even with metal armor, it’d deafen you, blind you, and probably burn you by overheating your metal armor!”

And... to me, this is like arguing that kevlar can’t stop bullets, because high-explosive artillery can put six foot craters in the ground. Part of what you’ve said is true, but you’re grossly mischaracterizing the sort of weapons people can use in small-scale fights without killing everyone in the room, themselves included, based purely on sensationalist trivia.

Now, yes, a real lightning bolt from a thunderstorm won’t really care about what personal defenses you have, but that same lightning bolt will also seriously injure anyone within five paces, including the spellcaster who shot it from their fingertips. Considering that Sith and Wizards don’t typically go deaf immediately after shooting lightning at people, I feel safe in concluding that they’re not using that kind of power.

I think it’s also worth talking about what power means in the context of electricity, because as it turns out this is a formally defined term that is quite relevant to the question of “how bad will this kill you?” In electrical terms, power (measured in watts) is the product of voltage and current (measured in amps). And as any electrician can tell you, it’s the amps that kill you. Voltage, meanwhile, is what determines how wide of an air gap the lightning can cross; considering how unconductive thin air is, you need a lot of voltage if you want to shoot lightning at people from any distance whatsoever, and that means you need more power, unless you cut down on the amps.

Fortunately, you totally can cut down on the amps and still have a viable weapon! It only takes six or seven milliamps through the heart to kill someone, and a tenth of an amp if you don’t feel like having super precise aiming. And in all honesty, this maps to lightning attacks in most speculative fiction pretty well- where it always hurts like a bitch, but isn’t always horrendously lethal.

However, that kind of low current is bad news for the “chainmail would just cook you in your armor!” gang, because resistive heating, the phenomenon that makes electricity heat things up, only cares about resistance and current. High voltage isn’t going to do jack shit for resistive heating, and steel wire of the thickness you’d want for making chainmail is plenty capable of handling a measly tenth of an amp. It’s typically about as thick as the wires in your walls, and those can safely handle fifteen or twenty amps before they start to get uncomfortably warm. Sure, that’s copper and chainmail is steel, but chainmail is also a lot of steel, and the fact that there’s literal thousands of rings in a chainmail suit does in fact significantly increase the amount of current that can safely be handled.

So, in conclusion? Unless your fantasy lightning wand produces lightning so powerful that it should seriously injure the user (in which case nobody would want to use it), conductive metal armor 100% would protect the wearer from lightning attacks. This isn’t to say that lightning weapons should logically be useless in speculative fiction- there are plenty of contexts in which people would not be wearing metal armor, where lightning remains a perfectly serviceable way of killing people horrifically. But this is to say that I’m sick of people acting like wearing metal armor is useless at best and suicidal at worst when the other guy has a lightning spell. Knock that shit off.

[dinkflocculent]

Old Prey - Chapter Seven: Stray

Duko

♧ 12 / 21 / 1980 ♧

Beau didn’t call me Friday night.

Every Friday night, it has become a tradition to call and talk with each other. We’ve done it since we were freshmen, and it isn’t like her to not do it.

Her father never let me over because he ‘didn’t want a male alone with his daughter.’ That may be true, but he just doesn’t trust me because I’m a wolf. The origin of her worries isn’t that unclear.

I’m worried about her. I need to check on her, face-to-face. Did she feel so guilty that she broke our routine? Or, worse, is she afraid to call me?

I said she was okay to feel like this, and it is, but it makes me feel like a monster. I try not to smile too big at herbivores. I try to hide my claws. But just existing makes a beast afraid.

I wish I were born a bear.

“Oh, hey, Duko,” Arion, a bearded collie that I talk with during lunch, greeted me. He seems… nervous. “I’m sorry for what happened.”

“For what… happened?”

“You didn’t hear? Know that tiny bear you’re always following?”

“She isn’t tiny,” I glare at him. Beasts always treat Beau like she’s a cub. She isn’t. She’s one of the greatest beasts I know.

“Yeah. She… uh… she’s been missing since Friday night.”

What?

I break off into a sprint, missing what else Arion said. She’s been missing? She would never just leave, she goes on about how beasts are going to murder her if she takes a step outside. This is now more about how she’s feeling, it’s about where she is.

I arrive at her house, banging on the door. He opens the door with a look of anticipation but looks disappointed when it’s just me.

“What do you want?” Mr. Spera asks, his tone indicating he wants nothing to do with me.

“I heard what happened; what do you know about her?!”

He sighs, a sad look in his eyes. “Friday night I went out for groceries, but it took me longer because of the snowstorm. When I came home, I couldn’t find her. Someone sprayed the kitchen floor with water. Because of the storm, there weren’t any footprints to track her down.”

“She wouldn’t just… run away.”

“Of course, she wouldn’t! She’s scared to death being outside alone.”

“Do you think someone took her?” I shiver at the thought. She can’t defend herself, so she couldn’t do anything if some sick beast wanted to kill her. I feel like a jerk for everything I said, always saying no beast would ever do a thing.

“That was my first thought. She probably didn’t lock the window. I wasn’t there to remind her, as I do every night…” He shudders. “She could be raped, devoured, sold to the black market, or some other sick thing I always told her would happen!”

I don’t say it, but I doubt someone would devour her. She’s a bear, it’s rare for predators to be victims. He’s just jumping to conclusions, as he always does.

“I’m going to help find her, we should go to the police and ask for help!” We need to. I’m sick to death about her. I don’t know what I would do if she never came back.

“They couldn’t do anything, her scent was drowned out because of the water. There aren’t any suspects.”

“I don’t care. I’m going to do anything I can to help find her.”

***

They’re supposed to protect and serve, but they’re doing a horrible job at it.

The police station had three officers in the office. Two dogs were busy smoking cigars, and the chief was a pig. They talk about her disappearance so casually, as if it’s nothing to worry about.

“All we can do is put her on a missing beasts’ list. With no scents, footprints, or suspects, we’re a bit stuck,” Chief Paunchy replied to our concerns. They’re apathetic to him.

“You could search the forest or question her neighborhood!” I argued. I don’t care how long that’d take.

“We did. There was a crowd when we arrived. no one saw her the night before, since no one went out because of the storm.”

The snowstorm carried on until ten at night. She was gone when Mr. Spera came home. She wouldn’t go outside in a storm like that. What beast would have such diligence in taking her in such weather?

And why?

“Despite that, you should do everything possible to find my daughter!” Mr. Spera raises his voice, slamming his fists on the table. “I’m not going sit here and accept that she’s gone until I’m granted some kind of miracle! You don’t have the fear of having your cub missing and not knowing if they’re alive or not…”

The intensity of the situation is hitting her father hard. He immediately jumps to conclusions, quickly falling apart. It’s beginning to rub on me too. What if she did run away, not wanting to see me again? What if she’s in some horrible life-or-death situation? What if she is dead?

…panicking isn’t going to do anything. I need to focus and calm myself. I can never accept that.

“Sorry. We’ll work on it, we don’t know if she ran away or got taken.”

“She wouldn’t run away!” It would be more helpful to explain why, but Beau would be embarrassed out of her mind.

“Alright, alright!” he says in an annoyed tone, sick of this discussion. “We’ll question beasts who knew her, the last ones she spoke to before she disappeared, you can help too if you want.”

I smile, my tail slightly swaying. We finally got through to them.

“We have a case with a gang full of cats that’s been going on for months so we’re occupied. We have more serious things to worry about.”

“More serious things?” My ears pin to my head. They’re acting like we’re looking for a missing teddy bear, not a missing beast. “This is the most serious thing in my life right now, and I’m going to do everything I can to find her.”

[the-firebird69]

There's something else to say our people are pulling tricks on us but I knew about it

-additionally to the other items we have people here who have been picked up and who are still picked up this probably five people missing from your remaining 100 households and they're being questioned about you imbeciles here cuz if they need t for Christ's sake you say it out loud and we're going to war with you now against you idiots

-there are other things that are happening right now. in Charlotte county we have a warrant and APB out on each of you it is here and you will be captured in questioned and executed they said and the five that they have you haven't figured that out they intend to execute

-get out there John arena Lord break the law that would help you

-and furthermore John remillard is not allowed here if he's here we are going after people who have placed him here or hold him here and the pseudo empire is as well and including Stan and Sherry they do not want him here they didn't know what dan in here and they do not want Jason near them

-additionally we are seeking any of you out who are trying to take it in for our son's things and a lot of you say ecliptos and can't help it and we say we are soldiers and we can't help killing you.

-there's a few more things to note what is we don't care for your attitude and you're so bad at it we have to remove you we did figure that out and we're doing it now and we have a system and we're going to deploy it

-there's other things too it's Monday there's a court case coming up here in Charlotte county against John remillard and company Terry cheesman is actually being sued it's by someone who he was offending apparently at Castle. And Justin said it someone is suing him for what he was doing there and this will open up a series of lawsuits I'm going to come out tomorrow and the day after against she's been and people like that. My son was holding his own and hear these imbeciles feel cocky and don't listen to threats and we end up killing them a lot they end up dead everyday up there he was doing the same thing and he was saying whatever they just move and that was because he was having Tommy f a piece of s*** out of him they suck real bad these people suck and they're stupid hey there me and our son was defending himself and they were dying okay.dan Got into a fight with him and he broke his rib and it's not true. But if you get in a fight with him people try to say this was from the fight after the fact and they did it to like 20 times so try not to get in a fight stupid and too late so he came up as random and the people were waiting for him on the side of the road and he usually comes out and he didn't so they were following him around when he's riding off in the after that and when he's riding muffin and they hit him seven times in the ribs and he said don't follow me and he can tell who they were but they do that to you

-there's a lot of things that happen like that and our son doesn't have to do anything and so you couldn't biggest fools I've ever seen you're the biggest shiniest jackasses on Earth and suicidal pieces of s***

-huge huge accolades for what our son said about Christopher Walken no people aren't very happy about it but what he said was valuable you said this guy took almost all the money but he took my money to and he's sitting there with it I can't use it because he's Max and that's how you can see and he puts it out there no you say the off the money to bja and he thinks he's not going to make it that's why and people see that no. There's a huge number of people saying tons of s*** about him then they look at that work and I can't figure out what he's doing let me hear he has a whole bunch of money and it's been keeping it from the max so they know what to do now they need money so the watch falls to the floor and it's safe but Trump is gone when he goes there and gone forever

We have a lot going on and we have lots to talk about so we're going to publish

Thor Freya

Olympus

Hera Zues

[nosuchthingasagruffalo]

Chapter 9

Earth - post homecoming

Kathryn woke in the night with a yelp, she had been getting leg cramps regularly now and she made her way to the bathroom for some magnesium. "Are you ok sweetie?" Her mom called from her bedroom "yes, go back to sleep mom" Kathryn called. She checked her padd before going back to sleep again, Chakotay asking how she and the baby were. After weeks of standing before the panel defending her and her crew's actions in the delta quadrant, and the endless press speculation of her pregnancy Kathryn found it very hard open herself to a proper relationship with Chakotay. They were slowly getting to know each other's families and exploring their own feelings about each other. Chakotay had come for dinner last week and she had let him kiss her bump afterwards. It had felt terrifyingly intimate after all the walls she had built to protect herself and she had needed a lot of time afterwards to process this new step. Kathryn smiled at the Padd and wrote back about her leg cramps and dizzy spells "if you had listened to the doctor when your DNA was resequenced after quarra and actually stayed to have your booster I would be sleeping comfortably every night, the booster was always your job!" she typed then quickly deleted, maybe they weren't quite ready to joke about this yet.

Present day

Seven laid on the sofa in her quarters, she had a long and stressful day and whenever she got these headaches they seemed to be focused on her occular implant, she administered the hypo spray the doctor had given her and was about to retreat to bed when she heard her door bell beep. As she bade entry Charlotte hurried in and set some Padds on the table. "Are you alone Commander?" Seven nodded affirmatively. "I've seen some encrypted messages hidden amongst status reports, I've decoded them but they don't make any sense" she handed the padds to Seven. "Ensign, you've decoded them but only into what looks like a secondary code, we need to look at these" she sighed heavily "but we need to keep them off the main computer, if it's classified we don't want the Captain to know we have intercepted them. Make yourself a coffee Ensign, this will take some time".

2378

Chakotay had rented a small cottage near Kathryn's family farm. She had started to come over most evenings for dinner and had started to feel more and more comfortable. Tonight they sat on the sofa with a cup of tea, chakotay rubbing Kathryn's feet. "The baby has dropped and I'm so achy now" she complained "only two weeks to go, the doctor will induce you at 40 weeks, you're doing so well" Chakotay offered "hey why don't I run you a bath, no expectations, just your favourite bubble brand I found at the shop".

Kathryn soaked in the bath, enjoying the smell of the scented candles and the flames licking against the dark of the room. "Chakotay come here, I need to run some names by you" she called. Chakotay came in and sat on the edge of the bath, as Kathryn went through her list he absent mindly swirled patterns in the bubbles with his hands. "So we've got the shortlist now, let's see what she looks like. Probably your soulful brown eyes, which I don't know if I've mentioned but I find very attractive" Kathryn smiled. She continued with a crooked smile "you've had a long day why don't you join me?" Chakotay thanked whatever gods were smiling on him and removed his clothes and slid in behind Kathryn. He massaged her shoulders and arms and gently caressed her stomach. He could feel Kathryn's heart beating as his hand slid lower to her thigh, slowly bringing his hand to the top of her leg "let me do this for you" he breathed, feeling her pulse quicken "yes" she said as she moved her legs wider. His index finger found her clit and slowly massaged small circles, apply gentle pressue then gently brushing along her folds. Kathryn moaned and leaned further back, Chakotay pushed a finger inside and kissed the neck being exposed to him. Kathryn felt a fuzzy sensation in her pelvis building up, growing more intense as he added another finger, then another before her orgasm washed over her, her bump tightening in mini contractions as she felt the waves crash over her.

Present day.

Chalotay stepped into the shower washing off the terrible day. He heard the bathroom door open, and seconds later the shower door. Familiar hands caressed his back and shoulders and he turned around to capture his wife in his arms. He ran his hands over Kathryn, after all these years he knew every nook, the years had changed her and he loved that he had been there to grow old alongside her. He brought her in for a deep kiss….

Aboard The Essex

Charlotte had been called to Seven's quarters under the proviso of a mentorship dinner. She entered and saw table yet to be set. "Lottie, something is going on here, you need to drop it now. There's some sort of instructions coming from a member in HQ, it doesn't feel safe and I don't want you mixed up in it. When I was in the Rangers I would see you in the enemies we came up against. Young girls who had got in over their heads, who should be put there living life but are caught up in these dark, twisted situations, carrying out the work of those in charge who care little for corruption and loss of life. I need to follow this, but alone Charlotte. How can I explain to your parents that another of their children is in danger because of me?" Charlotte leaned in closer " this might be to do with Amal's disappearance and if it is I need to see it through. My mom always says you don't leave a member of your family behind, and I certainly won't let you go into this alone. Besides you tell me that set of co-ordinates I can see isn't the sector that the Lohengrin was last seen in?".

Aboard the Voyager

Tuvok and Janeway's diplomatic missions had gained little traction. The Federation did not seem popular amongst this area of space and they were met with distrust and open hostility. Janeway sat in a bar one afternoon waiting for Tuvok to finish at the embassy, sipping a soft drink and reading a brief history of the planet Lazamus. "You people come and can't take no for an answer" an angry looking alien slid onto the stool next to her. "We don't want your kind here". Janeway retorted "pardon? Starfleet much less the human contingent hasn't visited here in a long time, this is why we are here mow infact" the alien beside her gave a chuckle "tell that to your friends who visited last month then"

"Friends? Were any of them young like Ensign Hussein?" She indicated to the officer eating crisps on a table nearby "no, much older, fair skin like you. Headed off sharpish after our security guards roughed them up" he chortled. Janeway excused herself and approched the ensign "Miss Hussein, please gather any information about humans visiting this planet in the last few months. Keep your report off the main computer and bring to the Captain and myself".

That night Kathryn visited her animal guide, the lizard was moving stones into groupings, what did this mean? As she pondered she heard a commotion in the jungle, there were two large birds, swans Kathryn thought, a black one and a white one. The white one snapped at the other which retreated into the thicket. She looked it in the eye "who are you?" She asked and it lunged at her. She woke with a start, feeling sweaty and shakey she wrote down the numbers and patterns the lizard had shown her.

[sena-shi]

Protector of Teyvat (a troll hell-bent on reviving everyone just for fun) P—1

Isekai’d reader who is hell-bent on reviving everyone using your cheat code as the protector of Teyvat. With great power comes great benefits! Teyvat population stonks

Note: asmoday is the unknown god, reader also grants gnosis and visions, isekai, slight sagau, op reader

Summary: You are just a regular human being living your best life on Earth, collecting husbandos and waifus in Genshin Impact when all of a sudden you were isekai'd to Teyvat, but not as a traveler, a creator, or an NPC. You were a very close friend of both Celestia and the Unknown God, who is known as the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles. You too, hold a very important position of the highest order because unbeknownst to the general populace, you are the Protector of Teyvat from the outside forces. And so imagine the Archon's faces when their dead friend suddenly came back to life just so they can accompany you together with Aether and Paimon on a journey to spit on the Celestia's face

Timeline in Teyvat when you got transmigrated: Before any wars happened. Zhongli is probably sucking on a dragon pacifier or something if that even exists.

Warning: curse words, slight ooc, lore flying over the ocean and going for a swim, author removed the lore from the irminsul so act like you know nothing of it, i'm putting the lore in the cheese grater

Teyvat is at last protected from the hostile forces of the outside world; however, you cannot be certain that Teyvat is safe from the inside due to the fact that those petty Gods have a tendency for wreaking even more havoc. Who the hell told them to compete with each other by trying to kill one another just so they could get a position?

Ah, yes. There's no way out of this one except to blame Celestia! The people you consider to be your closest friends are actually the embodiment of headaches.

However, despite the fact that it is your job to prevent travelers from entering Teyvat so as not to upset the balance of fate, one of your other best friends has in fact literally trapped the twin travelers inside Teyvat!

Just what the hell is Asmoday thinking!

And now, one of the twins is dead set on eradicating your other best friend, who is a professional for wreaking havoc within the world that the three of you have taken an oath to defend.

You would have annihilated the world a long time ago if it weren't for the fact that you made a pledge to safeguard it so that you could continue to observe your characters.

It's unfortunate that you only get to see Venti once in his adorable little form before the two headaches call you to join them in observing the people like the creepy stalkers they are. It would have been better if you can see more of Venti in that little elemental spirit form of his.

But hey, at least you made it possible for Venti to grab a position as a form of repayment for the times you would drop an apple right above his head.

If only the gods knew that developing a close relationship with you would also result in them gaining a gnosis, it would make everything so much easier for them.

No war, no killing, but they would probably need to act cute right in front of you to get one.

Though, you’ll be going against the Celestia if you did that. But what are they going to do? Hit you with an Anemo vision?

“...you can't just go ahead and do that.” The Celestia grunted and slapped themselves in the face.

“But I just did.” A lazy smile crept across your face while your chin relaxed on the palms of your hands as you watched the newly formed seven rule over their respective nations.

If you hadn't been smiling in such a devious way, the two individuals would have complimented your beauty on the spot.

“Oh my god—” Celestia bemoaned.

“You’re a god…”

“So, to put it simply, the battle hasn't even begun yet, but somebody has already won a seat. You called him a little floatie, didn't you? What sparked your interest in them in the first place?” Asmoday or the Unknown God, spoke to you as she continued to look at you with a curious expression on her face and a raised brow.

“Haha— you should've seen how Vent— little floatie bit into an apple that was way bigger than him. Quite adorable if you’d ask me.”

“…you granted him a seat just because you found them cute?”

“Oh my god—” Celestia lamented once again, “So it wasn’t a fair fight for the seat?”

“Never was.”

“Oh my g—” You couldn't help but chuckle darkly as you stuffed an apple in her mouth in an effort to silence her.

You jotted down a long list of things that need to be done, and you intend to get to them after you've finished taking care of everything else.

Resurrecting the pitiful gods that perished as a result of the archon war; perhaps rebuilding Khaenri'ah as a means of spitting in Celestia's face; perhaps as an act of retaliation for giving you more work all the time; or perhaps guiding the traveler yourself.

The sooner they reach their final destination, the sooner they will leave this world.

Once they leave the world, you are going to take a break and drink one of Asmoday's best wines until you drop dead.

But there's no doubt that those two will irritate you to death faster than you can get drunk.

You devoted your entire life to protecting the world from those pesky travelers who never stopped making a nuisance of themselves within Teyvat.

Because there are so many of them, you can actually see Asmoday rolling her eyes and simply wrapping people in her cube-thingy before sending them off to some unknown location in the vast universe.

And standing before you right now is the traveler that Asmoday entrapped in this world.

You only blinked in amazement when Aether pulled a flying fairy out of the waters in a literal way.

“Ugh…” The winged fairy in flight coughed several times before rising back into the air and floating once more with a slight swaying motion, as if she were feeling dizzy. “Paimon was terrified that she was going to pass away...”

"Well, if you're feeling like you're going to die, why don't you come over here? I'll make you feel better."

While you were laying on your side on top of the flat stone, you spoke with a joyful tone in your voice.

Aether turned around and looked up at you as he saw a hint of a smile on your face while you were looking down at him. Even though you were only dressed in plain white clothing and had flowers the color of the sky adorning your hair, he couldn't help but be taken aback by your otherworldly beauty. He found himself blinking multiple times.

Paimon, who was still not acting like her normal self, floated towards you without consciously trying to do so.

"Quite an obedient one, I see." You laughed as you poked the flying fairy in the forehead, and something glowing within her.  Paimon's eyes widened in an expression that suggested she was startled, and she began looking around in a frantic manner.

“Oh— oh, you saved Paimon!”

You gave a slow shake of your head while pointing at Aether, who was still standing there, and said, "It was he who saved you."

“Oh! Thank you very much, you are my savior!" Paimon flew towards Aether and smiled at him with a broad grin, to which Aether responded with a friendly one of his own.

Aether scratched the back of his neck and said, "It's nothing," giving the impression that he was embarrassed to have been caught by the mysterious woman who has the presence of a Goddess. "The only reason I was able to save you was because of sheer good fortune."

"Well then, why don't we all go around and say a few words about ourselves?" You spoke as you sat up from the stone and descended down to their level.

The two people looked at you with their mouths hanging open as they watched you walked in the air.

“Hey! You are also capable of floating!” Paimon exclaimed, her eyes glistening with happiness at the sheer joy she felt.

When Aether opened his mouth to speak, you quickly silenced him by placing your finger over his mouth and pressing down lightly.

"How about we start by introducing ourselves to one another, shall we?"

After both of them nodded, it was clear that they were ready to start introducing themselves.

“And just like that, the god took away my sister. Some kind of seal was cast upon me, and I lost my power. So, while we used to travel from world to world, we are now trapped here.”

In response, you hummed to express yourself. Naturally, you were already aware of this information; however, this is not only due to the fact that you are now the Protector of Teyvat and are familiar with the God who trapped the twins in this world; rather, this is also due to the fact that you were once a player in the game.

“So… you are not familiar with this world?”

Aether heaved a sigh and gave the disappointing response, “Unfortunately, no.”

"As a gesture of gratitude, Paimon promises to do everything in her power to be an excellent guide!"

“How about you, Y/N? Are you like Aether too?” Paimon cocked her head to the side and scanned your entire body from head to toe while keeping a close eye on you.

You let out a chuckle as she looked at you with an inquisitive expression while speaking in a very assured manner. “I know Teyvat very well that I can practically see it with my eyes closed.”

“Oh! Then you can rely on us to steer you in the right direction, Aether! We will definitely help find your sister!”

Aether's grin was sincere, and it seemed to him that a weight had been lifted off of his chest. "Thank you."

You replied, "It's not a problem at all," while twirling a strand of your hair and acting as if you were unaware of Aether's gaze on you.

"Then, why don't we begin by trying to get in touch with the seven?" You offered an idea.

Paimon started explaining about the archons and the nations that they would have to travel through before Aether even had a chance to ask what the seven is.

As Paimon went into extensive detail describing the location where the three of you will begin your journey, you softly hummed a lullaby, your voice gently caressing the ears of your two traveling companions like wind chimes.

"Mondstadt, hm? Stunning decision, if I do say so myself. Do you know that the archon is just around the next corner?" You made them both laugh by making a joke. Ha, if only they know you weren't kidding around.

"Where?" Paimon sputtered in shock. “Are you familiar with the archons? Do you know the archons?"

"Haha, well, of course it goes without saying that I do. After all, I did grant him that position." You smiled at them in a careless manner, and in return, they flashed a blank expression in your direction.

You never had any intention of concealing your true identity, and now it is up to them to decide whether or not they will believe you. A person who is able to grant a Gnosis is considered to be on par with the Celestia, or possibly even on a higher level than them. This fact alone makes it seem impossible that you are saying the truth.

Therefore, they may believe that it is impossible for someone like you to be wandering the lands of Teyvat instead of keeping an eye on them from a higher vantage point.

“Uhh… Paimon is unsure of whether Y/N is teasing us or whether they are actually being serious…”

Aether gave it some thought before finally agreeing with the statement.

"Enough with the small talk, let's make our way over to the statue."

The two remained silent as you led the way, and your lullabies are the only sound that they are able to hear presently. It was a very relaxing stroll to get to the statue, and the two of them couldn't have been more happier to be in your calming presence the whole way there.

You have finally arrived at your destination after what seemed like an endless amount of time spent walking there.

You made the decision to step back, but not too far away from them as you watched the blond hair traveler put his hand on the statue, and the power of anemo swirled around before touching him.

“Ooh! Did you just feel the elements of the world?”

“Seems like all you had to do was just touch the statue and you got the power of Anemo!”

“Quite handy, don’t you think? At least you won’t have to rely on visions.” You said as you sat down on the grass.

“Y/N is correct! As much as they may want it, people in this world can never get a hold of powers as easily as you...” Paimon explained as she crosses her arms.

Aether frowned slightly. “I think I know why, it's because...”

“Ah-ha, it's because you're not from this world to begin with.” Paimon replied nodding in agreement.

“Well, if you’re done, it’s time to go to the city.” You said before yawning boredly as you heard Paimon explaining things to Aether again. Spoken like a true floating compass indeed!

Aether paid close attention, making sure he understood all of the new information that he had just been given.

During the length of time that Paimon spent slowly explaining the details, you did not speak, and you did not interrupt her. You were only going along for the ride because you thought it would be fun, Paimon can be the guide for all you care.

The three of you had just made the decision to leave once more in order to travel to the city of Mondstadt when all of a sudden, a large dragon appeared in the skies above and began flying in the direction of the center of the forest.

“There’s something huge in the sky!" Paimon let out an exclamation as Aether, who was protecting his eyes from the brisk wind by covering them with his arm, hummed in response. 

"I'll take a look at it. Please, bring Aether to Mondstadt first, Paimon," You only gave them a quick look, but just seeing the concentration on your face was enough for them to agree and nod their heads.

You kept an eye on their rear ends as they moved further and further away from you, and it wasn't until you were no longer able to see them that you started to make your way towards the center of the forest, stopping to pick an apple from a tree along the way.

You approached the archon and the dragon stealthily, being careful not to make any noise with your steps and moving as quietly as possible. You used your flying abilities to get to the branch of the tree where Aether had been hiding during the cutscene, and then you sat there and watched the anemo archon take his sweet time trying to communicate with Dvalin.

"He's poisoned, it's pointless," You spoke but there were no sounds that came out of your mouth. The only thing that carried your message to the ears of the anemo archon was a light breeze.

Venti jerked his head in response to the recognizable voice that he heard in his head, which resulted in Dvalin being startled. The dragon let out a deafening roar, and the wind whipped around erratically in the areas surrounding it.

“Who’s there!?” While Dvalin was behaving erratically, Venti looked around. He would not continue to stay if he hadn't just heard a voice that sounded familiar just now; otherwise, he would have vanished at that very moment.

Dvalin let out one final roar before spreading his wings and making the decision to flee the area, leaving you and Venti behind in complete silence.

You heaved a sigh as you took another bite out of the apple that you had earlier plucked from the tree. Venti turned his head in the direction of the sound of the crunch to look in your position, and all you did in response to his keen observation was raise an eyebrow.

"Well, how are you doing today, Barbatos?" You said while giving him a friendly smile as you threw the apple with the bite taken out of it, which he caught with the right hand.

A puzzled expression appeared on Venti's face as he pondered how you are familiar with his name. You do not give the impression of being an enemy in any way, but you were not also an archon. Therefore, how are you able to know his name?

“Hum…” You hummed while resting your cheeks in your palm and tapping the side of your face lightly with your fingers, "When I first saw you, you were just a little elemental spirit. Quite adorable, if I may say so."

You found it very funny when Venti's face started to flush and he turned his head to the side to hide it; cute, you say?

“Do we know each other, my lady?”

“We haven’t really met formally but…” You stood up on the branch, smiling down at him with your bright expression. “Perhaps the wind will tell you of my identity, or is that even a thing? Haha!”

"I'll bring more apples next time, and maybe your bard friend and the other archons to accompany us!"

Venti gaped openly, "Bard friend? But he's..."

Your lively laughter was the last thing he had heard before you had vanished from your place, and now all that is left in his hand is an apple that has been munched on.

Venti stared at it for a moment before bringing the fruit up to his lips and biting it in the same spot on the apple that you had previously bit.

As Venti held the apple gently in his hands and licked his lips, he was aware that butterflies were fluttering around in the pit of his stomach.

He recalled how, back in those days, apples would all of a sudden appear in the sky and fall on top of his head. Due to the fact that he is only a small elemental spirit, he would fall to the ground along with the apple.

The fact that somebody is spending their time playing with him is another source of happiness for him, despite the fact that there were times when he would tumble right into the water.

He can't help but show a grin that tugs at his lips. It's possible that the two of you have been connected for an even longer period of time than the first friend he's made. Perhaps there was someone else there with him after all.

‘Sweet’ was the only word that came out of his mouth as he chewed slowly.

If you had stayed and watched the act, you would have been so horrified by it that you would have wanted to cringe. Hygiene is important!

Meanwhile on the other side, Amber screamed in surprise when you suddenly appeared in the sky and revived all of the hilichurls that they had just bombed. The most shocking of all is that the hilichurls suddenly turned into humans.

Somehow, you can feel that Lumine will chase you down soon.

honestly, because hoyo has a knack for killing npcs, I just want to go mad-rage and revive them like a madman. i kinda want to slap a fried egg on signora's ashes hehe. i also want makoto to come back to life and adopt my precious scara umu

[cjsinkythoughts]

In Need of a Breath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4007

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo, Feelings, Another PTSD Flashback

A/N: So…Part 4 is going to have a couple parts to it. Maybe even three. I didn’t even make it half way through the episode on this one, mainly because I really wanted to fit in the Reader’s backstory and I wanted her and Sam to have a heart-to-heart again. I’m suuuuper tired, so I probably won’t be posting the next part for another few hours (it’s 5 am right now and I haven’t slept), BUT it’s my day off work and I won’t be doing anything I planned because my grandmother had a stroke a couple days ago so plans have changed and I’m staying in to help her, meaning I’ll mostly be writing all day. 

This Part is kind of a mix between off-screen and shot-by-shots, but it’s mostly off screen/what’s going on inside Reader’s head.

I’m really excited about future parts and the characters that are being introduced! I will say that after these parts, I will be doing one shots of previous MCU movies with the Reader, due to the information that is being given about the Reader now. You kind of see more of how she was affected/how she affected the previous MCU movies and what she was doing during that time.

Like always, this hasn’t been beta’d, again it’s SUPER early in the morning, and I’m really tired, so please excuse any mistakes! I hope you guys enjoy this part! Stay tuned for more to come later today!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“You know…I’m really starting to regret saying yes to this.” You huffed out, craning your neck and squinting your eyes against the sun as you stare at the facility in front of you, hating the skin-crawling feeling of being back.

“Would you relax? Whenever you’re nervous, I get nervous, and I don’t wanna be nervous about this.” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do either of you have a better plan?” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms.

Gnawing on your lips, you finally take the lead and breathe out, “alright. Let’s go then.” You could feel the hesitance from your - what were they? Partners? Coworkers? Teammates? - the fellas before they started after you.

There was a sick twist in your gut as you entered the building, going through the lobby and security.

You had been there.

You had been there when Zemo impersonated Bucky. You had been there when Zemo unleashed the Winter Soldier at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre Building in Berlin. You had been there during the battle at the airport. You had been there when Zemo turned Tony and Steve against each other in Siberia. You had been there when Zemo tore the Avengers from the inside out. Your family. The only family you’d ever known.

But you’d always been good about pushing your personal feelings aside for the sake of the mission. It’s what you’d been born to do. All you ever knew.

“Hey. Doll. You hear me?”

“Hmm. What?” You looked up from the ground to look into those enchanting blue oceans Bucky had for eyes, staring worriedly down at you, eyebrows pinched and forehead creased.

“I’m going in alone.” You frowned, opening your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “Sam already agreed-”

“I didn’t necessarily agree-”

“You’re an Avenger, sweetheart.” Bucky tilted his head, speaking softly, those eyes of his worried. Worried for you. It made your stomach flip. “And you were there in Siberia, and that almost makes it worse. Especially considering you went after him. Just…just let me do this, okay?”

You cracked your knuckles nervously as you thought. It was a terrible idea. But it was an idea. And it was all they had. “Okay.” You finally relented, shrugging as your hands hit your thighs and slid up to your hips. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

“Steve took all that with him.”

Knowing about their little inside joke, you scoffed. “Sure he did. Go before I change my mind.”

You watched him walk down the hallway, hands fidgeting with excess nerves. “I think you’re the only one he actually seeks approval from.”

“Good thing I’m so lenient then, huh?” You joked, turning to Sam with a strained smile. Your smile slipped at the curious expression on Sam’s face, his eyes darting to each of your features. “What?”

“Are you doing okay?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. You thought you got out of talking about your feelings back in Baltimore. “Oh my God, Sam-”

“I’m serious. You…you just don’t seem like yourself.”

You shook your head, looking down the hall to where Bucky disappeared before turning back to him. It was weird to have a self that people recognized. Your whole life you’d been searching for it and when you finally found it…everything went to shit. “Honestly, Sammy, the only time I’ve ever felt like myself was with the team. Zemo took that away from me and now we’re here, practically begging him for help.”

Sam hummed, leaning against the wall. “Have you thought of taking a break?”

“What?”

“A break.” At your bewildered look, he rolled his eyes. “Cher, this time last year most of us were dead. This time a few months ago you found out about Wanda. This time last week you were out looking for her. Maybe you should just stop and take a breather.”

Shoving your hands in your pocket and looking at the floor, you couldn’t help but snort at his advice. “I haven’t taken a breather since I was eighteen.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s my point. FBI academy as soon as you graduated. SHIELD recruit by 21, undercover operations leader by 24? Slow down. You’re in your thirties. Next thing you know, you’re gonna be ninety something, lying on your deathbed, wishing you had stopped to smell the roses.”

“If I live to be ninety, shoot me.” He chuckled in amusement. “I’m so fucking serious, Sam. I will not be put in an old folks home to play Bingo and be pushed around in a wheelchair. It ain’t happening.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” There was that infectious smile, which you unconsciously grinned back at. “Y/N…I’m serious. You’ve been in and out of missions since you were a teenager. What’s the shortest undercover operation you’ve done?”

“I dunno.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “Yeah you do.”

Licking your lips, you turned away and shrugged. “A couple months. Seven weeks and three days, to be precise. September to October in 2012.”

“And the longest?”

“August 2007 to May 2009. Twenty one months.” 

Letting out a puff of air through his nose, Sam pushed himself off the wall and caught your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. “That’s nearly two years under cover. And I’m sure you went right back under after-”

“I was sitting at a desk for four months doing paperwork on it.” You defended yourself.

He shook his head, brows knitting together, lips drawn down. “You say that as if four months is enough time.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Sammy. I’m out. I’ve been out since Ultron and Sokovia. I haven’t been under in almost a decade-”

“A decade half the world was dead for half of-”

“I wasn’t!”

“I never said you were.” Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. You were always amazed at his ability to keep his emotions in check. To stay cool under pressure. Sometimes you forgot how experienced he was with dealing with other people’s trauma. It was no wonder why Steve thought he’d be good for Bucky. “Listen. All I’m saying is once this is done…don’t go diving back into searching for Wanda. Don’t go running to the kid every time he calls - and I know you’ve been doing that-”

“It’s just been homework and stuff-”

“Y/N.” You stopped, biting your lip at the stern look he gave you. “Go home. Order take out. Binge watch TV. Go for a jog through the park. Actually meet your neighbors. Go grocery shopping. Just…live. If only for a couple weeks. Don’t worry about anyone else. Don’t pick up the phone, don’t drop everything because someone needs you. You need you.”

“I-I…” You shook your head, looking at him, sincerely apologetic. “I can’t. I wish I could. But I can’t. I’ve never had one normal day in my life. I’ve never had someone to care for, never had someone to care for me. I can’t let people I’ve come to…I can’t let them think I don’t care. I don’t even know where I’d go.”

“Whaddya mean?”

You winced, not thrilled for his reaction to your next statement. “I, uh, I sold my apartment in D.C.”

He gaped at you in complete disbelief. “You got it in December!”

“I know, I know. I liked it. I really did, but…I dunno. Nomadic life has always suited me better. It’s what I grew up with.”

He took a breath, making you cringe again. You don’t think you’ve ever legitimately gotten on his nerves like this before. “Have you ever thought that, instead of going with the flow and jumping place to place, putting down roots might actually help?” He cut you off before you could say anything, holding up a finger to stop you from talking. “I can’t imagine going from foster home to foster home like you did. I can’t imagine not having a home for as long as you can remember. Louisiana’s my home. Always has, always will be. But I understand your life has been anything but stable. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you need some stability.”

You clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. “The Avengers were my stability. Steve was my stability.”

“Because you loved him.”

“I’m not doing this with you again.” You turned to walk down to the lobby to wait for Bucky there, but Sam caught your arm.

“You were in love with him! It’s okay! You two were super close! No one would blame you! Why won’t you just admit it? I’m trying to understand! Why won’t you-”

You tugged your arm away, finally snapping at him. “Because he could never be mine, Wilson! Is that what you wanna hear?!” Sam took a step back at your exclamation. You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat and pushing down the tears. “He could preach all he wanted about moving forwards, Sammy, but we all knew he was stuck in the past. He visited the museum every Thursday because her interview showed in his exhibit on Thursdays. He carried around that broken compass because her picture was in it.” You looked back up at him sadly, shrugging. “And I get it; it’s hard to move past your first love. I get it because…that’s what he was to me.”

There was a silence that blanketed the hallway, before he spoke up hesitantly. “What about Bucky?”

“I thought - I thought I was projecting my feelings for Steve onto him because I knew Steve couldn’t ever…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You thought? What do you think now?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m still figuring that one out.”

“If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here.”

You chuckled, nodding slightly towards him. “Back atcha. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you not being yourself lately, either.”

“It’s…a tough topic.”

You nodded in understanding. “Just know that I’ll support every decision you make as long as you think it’s the right one. Because I trust you. Steve trusted you. It’s all we can do to try to do what’s right. That’s what makes you a good man, Sammy. He gave you that shield for a reason, and if you think what you did was right…I’ll stand by it.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, calming down in each other’s presences and taking comfort knowing you’d be there for each other through thick and thin. “Thank you, cher.”

“Of course, Sammy. Now let’s go see what’s taking the old grump so long.”

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement, taking your offered hand and squeezing it as you made your way down the hall.

****************

“What?”

Bucky eyed you as you spluttered, coughing on the water you were drinking. “Please don’t choke, doll.”

“Break him out of jail?!” You repeated his words and blinked at him, absolutely baffled by his plan. “Oh my God.” You groaned as Bucky and Sam started arguing, moving your flashlight around the room. “Where the hell are we?” There was no response as they kept going back and forth.

“Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds! Especially yours! No offense.”

“Heelllloooo!” You tried again. “Where the hell are we?!”

Bucky turned on the lights, giving Sam a look. “Offense.” Glancing at you he quirked an eyebrow. “Stop worrying your pretty lil’ head, sweetheart. You trust me, dontcha?” Your breath hitched at his words. You quickly recovered, huffing and pouting - although you’d deny ever pouting - and crossing your arms. You stood between the guys like that, eyes darting to whoever was speaking, waiting for them to stop so you could actually think.

“Look. Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

You and Sam exchanged glances. “What did you do?”

“I…didn’t do…anything.” Bucky shrugged.

“How is it that you, one of the most deadliest assassins basically ever, are one of the worst liars I know.” You tilted your head at him, an eyebrow quirking up in confusion.

“Shush it you. Just, okay. The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element.”

The more you listened to Bucky’s “hypothetical”, the stronger the gut feeling telling you this was a terrible terrible idea got. You brought your hands up to your head, eyes wide as he spoke.

“I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this. This is unnatural.”

You couldn’t help but agree with Sam’s words, your head falling back and your eyes closing. “Sweet Jesus. Listen, God, I know we don’t talk much these days, but please, please don’t let this not be a hypothetical. I’m fucking begging you.”

A noise to your right made your head snap over. “Oh hell to the fucking no!” You shook your head as Zemo himself walked in, wearing a prison guards uniform. “Uh-uh! No way! Bucky, this was not part of the plan!”

“What did you do?!”

“We need him!”

“You’re going back to prison.”

“If I may-”

All three of you faced him, simultaneously shouting, “no!”

You held your face in your hands as your head dropped, shaking back and forth, your eyes squeezing shut, tuning them out for just a minute to think. Bucky had a point. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that, and the Avengers were technically disbanded, which was Zemo’s whole objective in the first place, but…God. You were good at compartmentalizing, but not that much. You were willing to put your feelings aside for the mission so Bucky could talk to him. Not for you to work with him. But he had connections, you knew he did, and he had information…

“Doll?” You looked up, Bucky anxiously licking his lips as he met your gaze. “I need you to say something.”

You looked to Sam, who shrugged, gesturing to Zemo. “What do you think?”

What did you think? What did you think?! You thought that it was the worst idea in the history of ideas and you should turn back and find another way! But…you knew this was the fastest, probably most reliable way to get information that you needed.

Dammit, since when were you the deciding factor?

You sucked in a breath, looking over Sam’s shoulder at Zemo, who lifted his hand in greeting. You raised your eyes to the ceiling, pointing your finger accusingly. “This is why we stopped talking.” Gaze dropping to the still waiting fellas, you gnawed on your lip, before hissing out, “ffffine…” Running a hand through your hair, you threw your hands up as you shrugged. “Fine. Okay. Fine.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, taking charge again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Except, that was a lie. You could. You’d seen weirder. You’d experienced the impossible. Lived through the unbelievable. This…this was completely imaginable.

Which is why, with a lot of hesitation and very little confidence in this plan, you followed Zemo through the auto shop you were in until you reached a large room with a ton of different old cars.

Bucky’s hand found yours as Zemo explained what the plan was, rather vaguely, in your opinion, but at least he was explaining. Point for him. Not that it would make up for the level of distrust you held for him, but it was something.

You looked up at him, giving him a puzzling frown. He usually only grabbed your hand in front of other people when he was feeling anxious. Which, yeah, he had a right to be anxious right now, but it wasn’t the right kind. The type of anxiety caused by large crowds and loud noises, ones that startled him and threw him into a defensive mode.

But the look on his face made you squeeze his hand in reassurance. He was pouting, staring at you although he did something wrong - a puppy that tore up a pillow - and all you wanted to do was give him a hug.

“You’re mad at me.” He mumbled as the four of you headed out with Zemo in the lead.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are. 

“Bucky, I’m not mad.”

“Listen, if I had a better idea I wouldn’t-”

You brought your linked hands up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his gloved knuckles. “I’m not mad.” You repeated more firmly. “It’s just…a lot for me, right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, Buck, I-I just…” You thought about your and Sam’s earlier conversation and suddenly understood what he meant. “I need to breathe for a second.”

His features twisted into ones of uncertainty, eyes squinting as you stepped outside. “Do you…do you wanna leave?”

You shook your head, tugging his arm to stop him and grabbing the sunglasses on his collar, slipping them over his eyes. “No. I just need some time to think. Hopefully the plane ride to wherever the hell we’re going will give me that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, James. I’m sure.”

He lowered the glasses on his nose to scan you over the frames, before nodding and sliding them back up. “Okay. You ready for this, then?”

“No.” You breathed, turning back to where Zemo and Sam were still walking. “Let’s do this.”

*****************

Climbing onto the private jet, you raised an eyebrow at Sam, who shrugged, giving you a bemused expression. A Baron…huh…who knew? You feel like you should’ve, yet there you were.

You sat besides Bucky, across from Zemo, crossing your legs and leaning back while staring at him through narrowed eyes.

His butler seemed nice, which made you even more suspicious. You obviously didn’t know as much about Zemo as you wanted to. It was a habit you picked up after years of undercover work; once the mission was complete, that was that. There was no looking back on it. No sitting on it. It was over and you moved onto the next one. It was a bad habit in cases like this.

The moment you spotted the notebook over Zemo’s book you knew something was going to happen, yet you still flinched when Bucky lunged at him, grabbing his throat. You leaned back in your seat again, steadying your now racing heartbeat. You decided you were too tense, trying to relax your muscles as Bucky sat back down in his seat.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book.” Sam seemed so proud of himself that something he recommended was written in Steve’s little book and it made you smile.

You remembered that; Steve and you were supposed to meet up for coffee after his run, but Fury called him in so you rescheduled it for when he got back. He asked you about Marvin Gaye. For your opinion. You told him to check it out and make his own.

You remembered asking him about that little notebook of his, and he just shrugged you off telling you about his list. He would read items off to you, but he never let you read the book yourself. You never found out why, and you supposed you never would now. The thought made an ache behind your ribs that you’d come to familiarize yourself with appear.

You smiled a little more as Zemo and Sam told Bucky how awesome Marvin Gaye was. “C’mon, baby. Back me up.”

Chuckling, you looked at Bucky. “They’re not wrong. But,” you quickly added before Bucky could whine at you, facing Sam again. “Neither is Buck. I mean, c’mon. You can’t find music like the 40’s anymore. Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman, Fred Astaire. Ol’ Blue Eyes himself.”

“Thank you.” Bucky grinned at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay. But, I mean, c’mon! Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.”

Your face fell as Zemo started talking about Steve and icons and Red Skull, your mind once again slipping away from reality.

~

“Kids love you.” You giggled as you finally made it out of his exhibit. You’d wanted to show it to him since he moved to D.C., and you’d finally got an opportunity after coming back from being undercover for ten weeks. “You’re their hero, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

You nudged him, scoffing at his answer. “You’re too humble. You’re a national icon, you know.”

Steve shrugged, looking around the museum at the planes surrounding them. “I never wanted to be.”

“Why not? Everyone loves you.”

“I’m sure not everyone loves me.” He rolled his eyes. “And…I just wanted to help. To fight. Protect my country and the people I cared about. I-I didn’t ask for…all that.” He waved behind his shoulder where his exhibit was getting smaller with each step they took away. “People were dying. Bullies were winning.”

You shook your head, spinning and walking backwards besides him to face him. “Sure, but you did that. And you became someone people could look up to in the process.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before asking, “why do you do what you do?”

“...because I’m good at it?”

“Honey.” He gave you a look. “Answer the question.”

You hummed in thought. “Because I couldn’t stand by, knowing there would be orphaned kids if I didn’t help any way I could.”

“Alright. Why do you do it in the dark?”

“Whaddya mean?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t you come out and take credit for all the lives you’ve saved?”

“Because that’s not why I do it. I don’t want that attention. I just want to know I’ve helped people. I’ve kept them safe.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I just wanted to beat the bully. I never wanted to be a dancing monkey, too.” You looked at him in a new light then, understanding where he was coming from. “Watch out, honey!” He grabbed you and pulled you aside before you could crash into a wall, arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He gave you that charming smile of his. “Wouldn’t want you hurting that pretty lil’ head of yours, now would we?”

~

“Y/N!”

You snapped back into the conversation, moving your eyes from the window to Bucky, who tilted his head, eyebrows pinched and eyes narrowed. “Sorry. So, Madripoor. That’s a fun place.”

You ignored the side eyed glances Bucky and Sam exchanged, Sam turning to you curiously. “You’ve been?”

“Once. Back in 2010 for a few months”

Zemo raised his eyebrows. “You’re lucky to have gotten out.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Lucky, maybe. Skills were a part of it, too, though.”

“Good.” Zemo nodded. “Because we’re going undercover…and if we blow it. We’re dead.”

You breathed out, shaking your memory away and getting your head back into the game. Because like the man you were severely wary of in front of you said, if you blew this, you were dead. And, sure, you didn’t want to live until ninety, but you weren’t even half way there yet. So dammit if you were going to die soon.

“Hey.” You looked over at Bucky’s murmur, his head tilting as he grabbed your hand and pulled you from your seat closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Are you okay? You know you’re going to have to be-”

“I know.” He nodded. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “I’ll be fine. Just…tell me right now if you need to step out for this one.”

You gave him a smile that you knew he didn’t buy, just by the slight narrowing of his eye, his lips pressing together. “No. No, I’m good for this. If you think I’m gonna let you two idiots go into Madripoor with him - alone - oil that cyborg brain of yours, because there’s no way.”

He squeezed your hand, eyes still filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

“If there’s even a slight possibility that I can protect you, then yeah. I’m sure, Buckaroo.”

[scuttling]

Happy Accidents

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,300 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Art, Neighbor Hotch, Shy and Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, It's soo sappy I'm sorry, Oral sex, Unprotected sex Summary: Aaron's new neighbor is out of his league for so many reasons: she's young, beautiful, artistic, unique, free-spirited, the kind of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. It's no wonder he ends up falling in love with her. *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! Against all of his better judgement, Aaron is kind of creeping on his new next door neighbor.

He is absolutely the type of man, any other time, to approach a woman he’s interested in and introduce himself, look for a way to connect, some common ground, but this is no ordinary woman.

She is out of his league in so many ways: young, beautiful, unique, free-spirited, the type of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. There’s not a chance in hell she would look twice at an old, stuffy, monotone suit with a seven year old son and perpetual bags under his eyes. That’s not him feeling bad about himself, it’s just the way the world works.

The first time he saw her, she was getting on the elevator while he was getting off of it, and they’d bumped into each other; she was wearing a short, flowy dress, and she’d smiled at him, apologized, eyes sparkling, smelling like she’d spent all day in the sunshine. It was the only time since Haley he’d ever entertained the idea of love at first sight.

She keeps to herself most of the time, gives off the air of being really cool and mysterious; their paths have crossed a few times since then—at the bank of mailboxes downstairs, in the hallway they share, once during a false alarm fire alarm—but he enjoys watching her paint more than anything.

They have balconies next to each other, and one night when he was tending to his herb garden—Jack enjoys watching the plants grow, and picking the herbs, Aaron likes to eat them—he spotted her standing on hers, facing away from him, in cut off jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt, barefoot. She’d been painting the city, the sky, with the sunset glowing behind her like she was the work of art, and he actually felt an ache in his chest, the feeling of missing someone he’s never really met.

Since that night, he’s started taking his work outside in the evenings after Jack goes to bed, and sitting in near silence while she paints, hums—sometimes songs he knows, sometimes songs he doesn’t. The first time he goes out before she does, she says hello when she drags her easel out, so he starts to say hello to her when she beats him there, too, but that’s pretty much the extent of their interaction. One evening when Aaron and Jack are getting home from dinner, she is lugging a canvas bigger than she is through the hallway and Jack almost runs headfirst into it; when he looks up, he exclaims about how big it is, and pretty—it’s covered with colors, something abstract and cheerful, and even if he’d seen it on the side of the road, he would have just known that she painted it. (That may be a good indicator that he’s getting in a little too deep.)

“Wow, that’s the biggest painting I’ve ever seen! And so many colors,” Jack says, awed. Aaron puts his hands on his shoulders to keep him out of her way; they’re already bothering her enough, when she’s clearly trying to get that giant thing home.

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I carry bigger pieces around at my studio, believe it or not,” she says to him, poking her head around the side to look at him.

“You have a studio?” His eyes are wide with interest; his favorite subject has always been art, as evidenced by their refrigerator, which is covered in drawings. She offers him an even brighter smile.

“I do! It’s not far from here; it’s called Live in Color. There’s a big rainbow painted on the side.”

“That’s so cool; it must be awesome to have your own studio.” Aaron loves that Jack seems to be so passionate about this, but the way they are obviously holding her up has him feeling awkward; he tugs gently on Jack’s backpack.

“That is really cool, bud, but we should let her go. I’m sure that’s heavy.” She smiles, shrugs.

“It’s no trouble. Hey, actually, we have some children’s art classes at the studio, and you look like you’d fit right in with the Green group—ages 7-9?” She looks up at Aaron, who nods. “Maybe we can talk dad into bringing you down sometime. We do painting, drawing, and crafts, it’s really fun.” She’s still looking right at Aaron, gives him a little wink, and he swears to god he gets butterflies in his stomach.

He’s a grown man. A federal agent. With butterflies. It’s insane.

“Oh man, dad, please? Can I take classes at her studio pleeease?” Jack tugs on the sleeve of his suit, and he nods, smiles down at him.

“Yeah, absolutely, Jack. We’ll go down and get more information tomorrow?” he offers, to both placate him and finally free the poor girl from the conversation; he nods excitedly, and she smiles, looks sweet, genuinely happy Jack is so excited to take the class.

“Cool, I look forward to seeing you guys there. Actually, if you give me one sec, I can grab my card for you.” She passes them, carrying the canvas and looking effortless while she does it; she props it up against the wall to get her keys out, unlocks her door and heads in, pops back out with a business card in a vivid watercolor yellow. “It has the address and phone number for the studio on the front, and I put my cell on the back; I figured it couldn’t hurt, considering we live next door to each other. Now you know who to call if you ever have an art emergency.”

He takes the card from her fingers, flips it over just to see the handwritten name and number; he knew her script would be lovely, and it is, easy and flowing and natural. It suits her. He tries not to grin, or flush, or otherwise be awkward about the fact that she just gave him her phone number, however innocently.

“Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow.” They turn to head for their apartment, and she clears her throat; he smiles a little, turns back, and she’s leaning casually up against the canvas with her arms crossed.

“You know my name now. What’s yours?” She’s just being polite, but he gets the goddamn butterflies again.

“Aaron.” She smiles, something beautiful and a little wild.

“Okay, Aaron. See you outside.” From then on, most of their free time, be it evenings or weekends, is spent at the studio. Aaron isn’t the only parent who sticks around—it’s an art class, not a daycare, he doesn’t feel right just dropping Jack off and leaving him there—and he’s also not the only parent, it seems, who is aware of his beautiful young neighbor.

“She’s incredible, right?” another dad says to him one evening, over by the coffee. Aaron looks him over briefly—it’s a job hazard, he sizes up everyone, but he already has a weird feeling about this guy. “I’ve been bringing my kid here for a month just to look at that little ass running around. My wife just thinks our daughter is just really into art.” He says it with a laugh, like that’s a ridiculous concept. Aaron feels himself start to boil.

“You shouldn’t be disrespectful. She’s doing a great thing here, for the children; she’s not doing it for you to ogle her.” He feels a little hypocritical, because he is also looking, but not like this guy. He knows guys like this. He puts away guys like this.

He glances over at Aaron, looking a little taken aback that someone actually commented on his behavior, then rolls his eyes.

“She doesn’t need you to defend her honor, buddy. She wouldn’t run around here in those overalls if she didn’t want us looking. It’s job security.” She’s wearing the overalls tonight, denim shorts with one of the straps unhooked, a t-shirt underneath, but it’s not as if she’s performing a striptease. She just looks like an artist, covered in drips of paint, smiling as she looks at the kids’ pictures over their shoulders. Aaron really, really hates this guy.

“In my experience, women usually dress for themselves; they probably have pockets, easier to keep things at hand that she may need, and it’s warm in here, so she’s likely dressing for comfort. She’s certainly not dressing for you.”

As if she can sense the tension, she looks over at them, flicks her eyes over Aaron, then the other guy, and walks over with a soft smile on her face.

“Hey, Aaron, Jack really wanted you to see what he’s working on.” She reaches out a hand, wraps it around his wrist and guides him over to Jack’s table. “I figured I’d save you,” she says when they’re out of earshot. “That guy sucks. He’s always saying creepy things to me and Alaina.”

“You should ask him to leave if he makes you uncomfortable,” he says, looking down at her with worry. “I can do it.” She shrugs.

“I would, but his daughter really does enjoy the class, and it’s not fair to her that her dad’s disgusting. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” She squeezes his wrist lightly. “Thanks, though. Hey Jack, show dad your project.” He peers over his shoulder, and it’s a pink and orange skyline, much like the one he saw her painting that first time on the balcony. “I asked the kids to paint my favorite thing today, and that’s sunset.”

“I saw you painting this one night,” he says, and then he feels abruptly like an idiot. She just smiles at him though, nods.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for a beautiful sunset. It makes you feel like, just because the day ends, it doesn’t have to mean things are over; it’s just one of life’s beautiful natural transitions. And the colors are to die for: peach, coral, jasmine, rose, tiger’s eye.” He finds himself unexpectedly touched by her description, smiles softly to shake himself of the emotions.

“The way you see the world is extraordinary. To me it’s just kind of… orange.” She returns his expression, but softer, and squeezes his wrist again; he didn’t even realize she was still holding it.

“Sounds like you need some art in your heart. I give lessons for adults, too; you could even come over and paint with me on my balcony, some time. Special neighbor privileges.”

The thought of being with her on her balcony while she paints is almost overwhelming, which he finds funny, considering he currently sits no more than twenty feet away. There is an intimacy about it, while they both do their work in the cool, quiet breeze, but standing like this, close enough to touch, with the late day sun on her face while she talks about colors… he’s not sure he could handle it without falling in love.

She pats him on the back, moves on to another child, and he tells Jack what a great job he’s doing; his face is lit up, so happy, and regardless of the neighbor, he’s glad they stumbled upon this hobby.

When they pack up to leave, the jerk from earlier comes up to him, leans in to speak in a hushed voice. “You should have just told me you were fucking her. I would have backed off.” He blinks, but the guy and his daughter are walking out the door before he finds himself able to do more than that. About a week later, he goes over for that lesson almost by accident. Jack is at Jessica’s for the night at his request, and Aaron was planning to order takeout and have a paperwork cramming session, but when goes out onto the balcony, phone in hand to place an order, his neighbor is standing on hers like she’s waiting for him.

“Hey. I saw you don’t have Jack; I made some pasta with vodka sauce, if you’re hungry. I always prepare too much.” He sets his phone on the table, walks over to the railing to get a little closer.

“Uh. Sure. I have fresh basil growing here; trade?” She smiles, nods.

“Yeah, sounds delicious. I’ll be right back.” She ducks inside, returns a few moments later with two dishes of steaming, saucy pasta, sets one down on her table and gets right up against her railing, hands the other over to him across his. “That one’s for you,” she says, handing him an orange plate, and he sets it down, picks a few good looking leaves from his basil plant and tears them up, drops them on top. “And this one’s for me.” She reaches, holds a green plate over the gap between their porches, and he adds some basil to it before she pulls it back, takes a deep sniff. “God, it smells so good and fresh. Thank you, Aaron.”

“Thank you, it looks great.” He goes to sit at his table with it, but she scoots her chair closer to the railing, closer to his balcony, so he does the same. They make easy small talk while they eat, mostly about Jack, a little about her studio and his work.

“FBI, huh? I can definitely see that, with your suits, and your… neutrals.” She cringes when she says it, and it makes him laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t wear paint covered overalls to the office,” he teases, and she shoots him a playfully affronted look, grins.

“You love my paint covered overalls—and for the record, you’d look great in them. You should find a pair. Preferably not black.” He flushes a little at that, but she doesn’t notice, just finishes up her pasta with a sigh of contentment. “That was so good, thanks again for the basil.”

“You’re welcome; thanks for feeding me something other than the takeout I planned to have.” He stands up, gestures to his apartment. “I’ll wash the plate and then hand it back over.”

“Why don’t you just bring it over and come paint with me for a little while? If you want,” she tacks on, and for the first time she seems a little nervous. “I’m not trying to be pushy, I just think it would be fun.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it would be amazing to watch her paint up close and personal. He’s just also afraid he’ll pass the point of no return if he does it, and he can’t handle any more heartache. He only very recently got to a place where just waking up in the morning no longer causes him agony.

It’s the look on her face, though, soft and sweet and open, that makes his decision for him.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” She grins.

“I’ll unlock the door.”

She’s dragging out her easel when he walks through the door; her apartment is stark white walls with vibrant furniture, artwork, canvases propped up against every bare spot along the wall, paints and brushes and charcoal and pencils on every surface. It’s exactly what he would have expected, warm and lived-in and comforting, very unlike the mostly black and gray interior of his own apartment. She smiles when she sees him.

“Hey! Can you grab that tray of paint on your way out?” she asks, and he picks up what looks kind of like an ice cube tray filled with many different colors, carries it out to the balcony with him. She has a canvas propped up, a little larger than a computer monitor, and she’s gotten started, but he can’t tell what it’s going to be just yet. When he hands her the paint she looks down at it, peers around the edge of the canvas like she’s comparing something. He’s so intrigued, curious about the way her mind works, what she’s thinking.

“What are you painting?” he asks when she picks up a brush, sets it down, picks up another. She smiles at him.

“Well, we’re painting that.” She points to the street, where there’s a rusty, pale blue antique car parked—he says that loosely, because it looks broken down—in the alley. Aaron chuckles softly.

“We’re going to paint that? It’s a little… grim.”

“Yes. It’s part of a series I just decided to create: ‘Beauty in the Ordinary.’” She sighs, and he’s surprised to see that her eyes are a little wet. She wipes the back of her hand over her eyes. “You know Bob Ross, right? Everyone knows Bob Ross.” He nods.

“Yes; the guy who paints the happy trees on PBS.”

“Right. I used to watch him growing up, and I vividly remember something he said once, about needing both darkness and light in life and in painting. ‘You have to have a little sadness once in a while to know when the good times come. I’m waiting on the good times now.’” She sniffles, exhales softly. “I’m waiting on the good times too. Sometimes looking at things like this car, and forcing myself to find something beautiful in it, is the easiest way to get through the day. Does that make sense?” He swallows hard when she looks up at him, because aside from Jack, she has been the lightest part of his life since the first time they passed each other on the elevator.

“Yeah, it really does.” She shoots him a soft, slightly sadder smile, and then explains about the paints a little, shows him the difference in the brushes, lets him feel the weight of them, the textures of the bristles.

She starts painting the car—the background is mostly finished—and he’s more than happy to watch, to hear her talk about her process. She asks if she can use his forearm to mix paints, and he turns it over, wrist up, tries not to smile too hard when she puts some dark blue on him, then white, mixing them and then comparing them to the car on the street. He looks down at her, the concentration on her face, the softness in her eyes, and is met with the sudden desire to brush a line of paint over her nose and make her laugh and kiss her breathless.

“Okay, your turn,” she says when she’s about halfway done with the car. She puts her hands on the backs of his arms, pulls him in front of the canvas so she’s between him and the railing. “You’ve been watching me, so you know what to do.” He has been watching her, but not necessarily for her technique, so he’s a little nervous; he dips the brush in the blue paint but hesitates to make a stroke. “I have faith in you, Aaron. Here.”

She wraps her fingers around his hand, guides him toward the canvas, and together they make a wide, curved line, rounding out the bumper. It doesn’t look half bad.

“It gets easier once you understand the relationship between specific paint, specific brushes, and your hands,” she says softly, and she helps him paint another line. “Are you having fun? You look stressed,” she teases, and he makes it a point to relax his face.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” he says, looking down at her; they make eye contact for a long moment, and she leans a little closer, and he leans a little closer, and then he accidentally dabs a blob of blue onto the canvas. He pulls back, grimaces, deflates. “I made a mistake. You can’t erase paint, right?” She laughs softly, takes the brush from his hand.

“No, you can’t erase paint, but as Mr. Ross would say, ‘There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.’” She gets her fingers close to the tip of the brush, makes a few quick movements, then grabs another brush, dips it in green. When she pulls back, there is a little blue flower growing out of a patch of grass where his blob used to be. He exhales, a little amazed.

“If only the mistakes we make in life were that easy to fix,” he says, and she nods.

“Yeah, that would be nice, but a lot of the time we find a way to turn them into beautiful things eventually. Are you willing to give it another shot?” He says yes, and she guides his hand for a while, then just hovers near it, then just instructs him on what to do. It’s dark before their painting is finished, and she carries it inside to dry, then takes him to the kitchen sink to scrub the paint off of his arm.

“Thanks for having me over; I had a really good time,” he murmurs as she dries his clean skin. She looks up, smiles softly, nods her head.

“I had a really good time too. I’m glad you came over; you’re welcome to join me any time.”

He says goodbye, heads home, looks at his stack of work with a groan, and brews a pot of coffee. He’s in for a long night, but he wouldn’t change his evening for anything. Life is much the same for the next few weeks: school and work, Jack’s art class at the studio a couple times a week, painting on the balcony on the weekend, with and without Jack. When Jack joins them for the first time, she pulls out a big box of markers and thick sheets of paper and he draws elaborate scenes while they talk and paint together. When Aaron makes mistakes, she’s never upset, just turns them into perfect little details that end up being his favorite parts of the paintings.

“What ever happened with your ‘Beauty in the Ordinary’ series?” he asks one evening while they’re painting some ocean waves. “Did I cause you enough trouble with the car to give up?” She looks down at the ground, looks a little shy, then shakes her head and smiles.

“No, you didn’t make me want to give up. I’ve been working on it at the studio. You’ll see it when it’s all done, I plan to hang them there.”

“Looking forward to it,” he tells her, and then Jack tugs on her shorts, shows them the picture he drew of the ocean, too.

Later that week, the team takes a case, and on the day he’s set to come home, Jessica drops Jack off at the studio with the plan that Aaron will pick him up when his flight lands. Due to some weather between where the team is and home, they get a little delayed; he doesn’t want to make Jessica head back out that way almost immediately after dropping him off, but he’s not sure who else he could ask to pick Jack up. It’s almost a stupid length of time before it dawns on him to call the studio.

“Life in Color, this is Alaina.”

“Alaina, hi, this is Jack’s dad—” He has his whole spiel prepared, but she cuts him off.

“Oh, sure, hang on a sec, she’s right here. It’s Jack’s dad,” she says, but it sounds further away, like she’s trying to cover the receiver. After a moment, his neighbor picks up.

“Aaron, hi. Jack said you were working.”

“Yeah, I was, and I’m supposed to pick him up after class, but our flight was delayed.” He doesn’t know how to ask for help with Jack; even with all the time they’ve been spending together, she still makes him a little nervous. Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure that part out on his own.

“Hey, that’s no problem. If it’s okay with you, I’ll just take him home with me. I’ll order pizza, we’ll draw, and you can just stop by when you’re home and pick him up.” He breathes a sigh of relief, runs a hand over the back of his head.

“That would be perfect. Thank you—I’ll owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Hanging out with your mini me is reward enough; he’s painting something special for you today, won’t let me see it.” That makes him smile, and he feels so warm at the prospect of picking him up from her bright apartment, seeing his artwork, her smile. After a long, draining day like this one, it’s exactly what he needs.

“I’ll have to remain in suspense until tonight, I guess. Can you let him know I said hi? And thank you, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Of course. We’ll see you then.”

It’s late, after nine, by the time he makes it home. He doesn’t even take his bags inside, just drops them outside his door and knocks softly on hers. She answers with a smile, ushers him in, asks him if he’d like a drink and gets them each a beer.

Jack is in her room, asleep, so they have a little time to chat; she asks about his flight, his case, and he asks about the studio, and she gets a little shy when it comes to that topic, clears her throat.

“Um. I have Jack’s secret project, if you want to see it. He said I could show you.” He’s not sure why that would make her nervous—at least, until he sees it.

The background is all watercolors, a gradient of rainbow colors starting with pink at the top and ending with a soft purple at the bottom. Over that, in black marker, he’s drawn the three of them, with a big heart around them.

“Tonight’s theme was the thing that makes you the happiest, and he said he’s the happiest when the three of us are on the balcony together. It was… really, really sweet.” She looks up at him, brushes a hand over the crown of her head. “If I’m being honest, that’s when I’m the happiest, too.” He takes the picture from her hands, runs his fingers over it, and smiles, feeling a warm ache in his chest—not like before, not like losing someone he’s never really met, but like finding something he never really planned on.

“That’s when I’m the happiest, too,” he agrees, and when he looks up, she looks determined, like she does when trying to find just the right shade of paint. She takes Jack’s picture out of his hand, sets it on the counter, and then pulls him down by the lapels of his suit, kisses him long and slow. His hands move to her waist, keeping her close, and eventually she pauses for breath, looks at him again, and then wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him some more.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time I saw you—tall and dark and serious, striding out of the elevator. So intriguing, mysterious,” she breathes when they separate again. “I wanted to know everything about you.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks, huffing a laugh. “I’m boring, but you are so vibrant, so full of life; I felt like you were everything I wasn’t, and I wanted to know you so badly.”

“You know me now; would you like to keep getting to know me?” It’s one of the easiest questions he’s ever been asked; he nods, and she beams, and he lifts her into his arms and carries her to the couch, drapes himself over her while she leans back against the cushions, pulling him closer.

They make out like neither of them have a care in the world—god, how long has it been since he’s made out with someone?—her fingers scraping through his hair, his hands on her bare waist when her shirt rides up, and she’s in the process of pushing his jacket off his shoulders when they hear a sound from the other room that startles them apart. Jack.

“I’ll go check on him,” Aaron says, and when he goes into her room Jack is still snuggled up on her bed sound asleep. It looks like some canvases fell over, though, and he stoops to pick them up, then spots the car they painted together. He turns and she’s right behind him, skids to a stop. “I thought you said these were at the studio?”

“They were,” she says, and she looks nervous again. “But I changed my mind about hanging them there. They felt too personal.” He runs his hand over the car and sees where she’s coming from; this one feels personal to him, too.

“Can I see the rest?” he asks. “Only if you want to show me them.”

“You’re the only one I want to show them to,” she says with a soft smile, and she grabs a few more canvases, carries them into the light of the living room. “Beauty in the ordinary, remember.” He remembers, could never forget.

She turns one over, and it’s a kitchen sink, and in the kitchen sink is an orange plate with a fork resting on it—like the plate she’d given him with the pasta on it. She turns one over and it’s a man’s hand, holding a paintbrush, with pale blue paint on his forearm. The next one is a little herb garden on a balcony; the next one is a view from above, of a sandy haired boy with markers all around him. The last one is an open elevator—ripe with possibilities.

When he looks up at her, she’s got tears in her eyes, and one slips down her cheek.

“So, I think I’ve found my good times.” She smiles through her tears, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses the salt from her lips. “I love you,” she says when he pulls back to wipe her face with his sleeve, and he kisses her softly, again and again, and tells her he loves her, too. The next weekend, Jack is at Jessica’s for a sleepover, and Aaron has been enlisted to help with an art project. He walks next door, knocks lightly, and enters the living room; he is met with a very deep, passionate kiss and a smile, and instructions to help move the furniture out of the way.

“I’m really curious what kind of art requires this much floor space,” he says, shoving her couch back against the wall, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, a move he has been unable to resist since she did it the first time they had sex. She knows it’s a weakness, exploits it, and he loves every minute of it.

“You’ll see, but I promise you’re going to like it.” When they clear the floor, she grabs a large, rolled-up fabric canvas and lays it out in the middle of the room, then drops three bottles of paint—one is yellow (jasmine), one is orange (peach), and one is kind of pink (coral? He’s still not sure.)—onto it. “You can obviously say no if you want, but I wanted something over my bed with the sunset colors, and I found this…” She steps closer to him, runs her hands down his chest, guides him down for a kiss so delicious he loses his train of thought. “It’s sex art; we put the paint on the canvas, and on ourselves, and… you know, go at it. What do you think?”

He thinks he really, really loves art now, even more than he thought possible.

“So we have paint-covered sex and then you just hang it on the wall? Like regular art?”

“Yep, I got the supplies I’ll need to hang it; letting it dry will probably take the longest. I figured we could shower while it’s drying, maybe go for round two, if you’re up for it.” She moves her hand to his waist, slips it inside his shorts, and he pulls her closer to his body. “Are you up for it, Aaron?”

That is an understatement.

Undressing happens extremely fast, because this is really sexy and they’re kind of in a phase where they can’t keep their hands off of each other anyway. She pulls her hair up onto the top of her head to try to minimize the amount of paint in it, and then she pours paint on the canvas, turns around and drizzles some on his back and tells him to lay down.

“I think we should probably change positions often so we get a lot of motion on the canvas; I apologize to your old knees in advance,” she teases, but she soothes the sting of her words by pouring paint on herself and then laying between his legs and licking at his dick. “Do some stuff with your hands; I want to see those big handprints on my wall,” she murmurs, and he groans, puts his palms down in the paint and drags them through it.

She leans up a little, sliding her knees through some yellow paint, sucks him fully, deeply into her mouth for couple of minutes, and then stretches forward and puts an orange hand right in the middle of his chest; the look in her eyes is playful, and he reaches out with one finger, hooks it under her chin, and guides her off and up so they can kiss.

“Your turn,” he says with a smirk, and then he gets her onto her back and ducks between her legs, hopes she doesn’t grab for his hair like she usually does. He rubs his pointed tongue over her clit, waits for the mmm it always elicits, and looks up at her, covers each of her breasts with a paint-covered palm and squeezes. “Leave handprints for me,” he leans up and reminds her, kissing her stomach, and she plants her hands, then presses up and grabs his shoulder, smearing pink down his back. “Oh, you wanted more of that?”

“Don’t tease me, the paint will dry,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs wider with his elbows and licks her pussy quickly, until she’s squirming against the canvas and panting for more. “Come here, come here.”

He’s not ready for that, though, paint or not, wants her to come from this; he takes his hands off of her, dips them in the paint again and presses down, then puts his hands under her ass and brings her closer so he can fuck her with his tongue, quick and deep and slick.

“Aaron, Aaron, god.” She slides her hands down his arms, over his neck, digs her nails in when she comes moaning like music.

While she catches her breath, so gorgeous, she sticks her arms out like she’s making a snow angel, and he catches her while she’s off guard and turns her onto her stomach, puts his hands on the smears of paint he’s already left on her ass, and slides inside.

“Oh my god; I was trying to impress you with this sexy art project, but you’re rocking my world.” She’s breathless, pressing back into his thrusts and painting with her entire body. God, he loves her mind.

“You know I always take your projects very seriously,” he says, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, and she groans, laughs.

“Yes you do. From the side? Let’s lay diagonally.” They shift, and he hooks his chin over her shoulder, kisses her neck and huffs hot against her hair. “Hmm, love it like this,” she sighs, and she reaches back to press her hand to his hip, holding him while he moves inside her. “I love you.”

“Love you. I want you to finish on top of me,” he instructs with a wet kiss to her throat, and she nods against his lips.

“Yeah, next; I’m getting close.” A few more strokes and she gets up onto her knees, lets him lay back, propped up on his arms, and climbs on top of him; she kisses him slow and dirty and then runs her hands over him, sits back on his dick and glides up and down. “You wanna come like this too? I owe you a little world rocking,” she says with a flick of her tongue over his bottom lip, and he nods, squeezes her thigh.

“It’s the least you can do after making me move all the heavy furniture.” She rolls her eyes but kisses his chin, down his throat, and bounces harder on him, all delicious eye contact and moans. “Mmm. Just like that, baby, come for me.”

“Fuck. I will, I will.” She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, kisses him kind of rough and with lots of tongue, and then tips her head back and climaxes, clenches, wrings his orgasm out of him so quickly it’s almost jarring. “Oh, yes Aaron. So good,” she mumbles, and then he lays back, out of breath, and she slides out of his lap and lays beside him, out of breath too.

After a moment, she looks over at him, smiles, and swipes a pink fingertip over his cheek.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done with anyone. I’m glad I got to do it with you.” He rolls on top of her, presses a kiss to her nose, and nods.

“Me too. You know,” he adds after a moment, “my bedroom could use some artwork, too.” She grins, wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight.

“You’re right; I think we should do yours in blue: liberty, that’s dark blue; periwinkle, that’s light blue; maybe steel gray, too.”

“You’re the expert. I’m just your paintbrush.” Her hands smooth up his back, and contentment washes over him like a warm breeze.

“Hmm. I like the sound of that. Want to get cleaned up?”

Cleaning up is almost as fun as making the mess, because they’re well and truly covered, and when the canvas dries, the sunset colors are almost as beautiful as the ones she used the first time he ever saw her paint. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc

[catelyngrant]

I don’t think I’m actually going to end up writing fic for Hacks because I’m terrified of writing these two characters who have SUCH specific voices, but like hell I’m not thinking about them 24/7 and I figured I’d share this concept.

One of my biggest questions is how they could actually get to a point in canon where they could hook up believably (not in a dream sequence) and what I keep coming back to is that it would have to be a situation that they’d be able to play off as a joke for as long as they could. Combine that with how all of the writers talk about how their bantering is a “turn on”, what I’m imagining is one of them pitching a joke about org*sms - either Deborah making some snide comment about how men are useless at getting her off or Ava offhandedly mentioning something about the differences between sleeping with different genders. (Deborah would totally be one of those people who would be like, “how do women know when sex is over if there’s not a d*ck in the picture?” so that energy is strong.)

Anyway, it ends up with Ava bragging about her record of getting women off in one round.

“Seven times? Oh fuck off, Ava, even if those basketball hands were battery operated you couldn’t -”

“Okay so first of all, I have a lot more tools at my disposal than my freakishly long fingers, which by the way no one has ever complained about, and second, I may be a disaster in 95% of my life but I will not accept this sort of slander when it comes to my ability to make women come. I have that shit down.”

“It’s just physiologically absurd. And Jesus, talk about excessive - even if I believed you, which I’m not saying I do, it sounds more exhausting than fun.”

“Spoken like a woman who’s never made another woman come.”

“I meant for me! I’m not fucking Marty, it’s not like I roll over and fall asleep in twenty seconds, but even at your age I’d be done after two, three times tops.”

“So just to be clear, in this scenario you’re the one I’m getting off? Because yeah, I know you’re not 25, but if those progesterone packets work half as well as you say they do in those ridiculous ads, I could get you to five, easy. And you’d be thanking me. When’s the last time someone actually got you off, anyway?”

“That’s rich, coming from Ms. ‘I don’t think you can ask me that,  you know, legally’ -”

“You’re right. You’re right - my bad.” A pause, then: “You can probably afford some really awesome lube, though, I’m just saying. And didn’t you get a press kit from Netflix a few years ago?”

“That yam shit from Lily Tomlin’s show? Please, no. I haven’t had vegetables near my c**t since I was twelve and tried a cucumber.”

“Okay, well, we’re coming back to that later, but. I’m just saying - if you don’t want me to prove my point that’s fine, but you’re a total smokeshow and I could find a dozen ladies who’d be more than happy to try to beat my record in like five minutes. Although if you take me up on that you’re not allowed to make fun of these bad girls anymore.” She waggles her fingers. “Can’t knock 'em till you’ve tried 'em.”

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to get me into bed.”

Ava shrugs. “I have a reputation to maintain. Plus, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it - like I said. Total smokeshow.”

“It’s a bad idea. For one - what did you say, five? It’s just not possible. You’re setting yourself up for failure.”

“Maybe. Could be fun anyway, though. Don’t get me wrong, the multiple orgasms are great, but sleeping with women is just a whole new level - it doesn’t all have to be about the main event. Or, you know. Events.”

“Oh that’s right, it’s more emotionally fulfilling -”

“Hey, I’m not pressuring you! Seriously. But either way, you’ve got to drop the bit, you have too many queer lady fans for tired straight sex jokes to fly. And if you want new material, I mean it. Happy to be of service. And, you know. Defend my honor.”

So anyway, this goes on and on and they obviously end up in bed. Ava gets her up to four before Deborah taps out, but even Deborah can’t mock her afterwards, and those hand jokes take on a whole new layer.

idk y’all i just have a LOT OF FEELINGS

*** this wasn’t showing up in the tags so I went back with asterisks for words that might’ve been flagged bc this site is a fucking hellhole