#look at my guy ben in the background just going around in circles

[mysteriousboo]

im obsessed with the Schengen showdown trailer so much and it barely shows us anything lol!!

especially this scene, lol! i can't wait to watch it!

[leashybebes]

♡: Accidentally falling asleep together for BuckTommy?

it's late, i know. but on the plus (?) side, it got away from me a bit so have 1k plus of mostly just...them being cute.

"I wanted to take you before," Buck says, casual, because they're trying to get better at talking about before, at not just pretending that Tommy kissed him and they got together and everything was fine. "But the viewing conditions were bad all last year."

"Yeah? There a reason for that, or just bad luck?"

It means keep talking, and Buck smiles. Tommy really - he makes Buck feel smart. Makes him feel interesting.

"Just luck, I think," Buck says, and frowns. "I don't know if there's some kinda…pattern to it, maybe? I bet Karen could build an algorithm. Did anyone at Harbor lose their minds over that treasure hunt a few years back or were you guys all too busy being cool?"

"I may have been roped into planning a search grid or two," Tommy says with a grin. "Are we taking food with us?"

"Just snacks," Buck says. "I figured we'd swing by a 24 hour diner on our way home."

"Burgers and milkshakes at 3a.m. honestly sounds perfect," Tommy says. He doesn't take his eyes off the road, but he reaches out for Buck, brings his hand up to kiss his knuckles. "We talking gas station snacks or Trader Joe's?"

"I could do some serious damage to an overpriced salad right now."

"Gotcha."

Once they're loaded up with Buck's overpriced salad and Tommy's over seasoned chips they're able to make the drive out towards Malibu a fairly leisurely one. Once they get to the beach, Buck decides it was worth the tradeoff to head out of the city rather than to one of the ticketed events - it's going to be cold, but it's fairly quiet, just a few clusters of other people dotted around. 

Tommy spreads their blanket on the sand and Buck settles against him. The sound of the waves is a lovely background soundscape and Buck lets it wipe the long, long week away for a few moments.

"Hey," he says when Tommy hands him his salad. "Did you know this is one of my favorite beaches?"

"I don't think I did," Tommy says. "How come?"

"The tide pools," Buck says eagerly. "I brought Jee a few times and we saw so many good critters."

"Yeah? We'll have to come back in daylight and you can show me…all the gross water bugs your heart desires."

Buck snorts with laughter and presses his face into Tommy's shoulder. "You are under no obligation to look at fascinating water bugs with me, you big baby."

"Okay, but I would," Tommy says.

"I know you would. It's fine. I'll just carry on bringing the tiny children who won't have to feign interest through gritted teeth."

"I will happily wait in the car," Tommy says, kissing the top of Buck's head. "Fetch ice creams. Make interested sounds from a safe distance."

"Big baby," Buck says again, fonder than he can possibly express.

"Alright, alright. C'mon, tell me about this meteor shower."

"Okay," Buck says, and pulls Tommy down so they're side by side on the blanket. "We're looking…here," he says, tracing a circle in the sky above them. 

"Gotcha," Tommy says, and inches a little closer, looking up along the line of Buck's arm.

"Did - " Buck breaks off to yawn. "DId you know the Geminids are really unusual?"

"How so?"

"So they come from an asteroid, not a comet. There's only one other shower like that, I think, and it's not as regular."

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hm. It's called 3200 Phaethon, and it gets closer to the sun than any other named asteroid."

"Huh."

"Did you know it's a PHA - potentially hazardous asteroid?"

"I did not know that."

Buck nods and turns his head to look at Tommy, his profile as eye catching as ever, even when it's in darkness.

"Just because of its size though. It actually has a really predictable orbit, so we're not in danger, or anything."

"I'll tell Bruce Willis and Ben Affleck to stand down."

"Huh?"

"Movie," Tommy says. "We'll watch it sometime. I'm sure the science would annoy you, but both Affleck and Liv Tyler are at their prettiest."

Buck laughs and turns onto his side to get closer to Tommy, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"Careful," Tommy says. "Don't wanna miss the show." But he cranes his neck to kiss Buck anyway.

"We're not gonna miss it," Buck promises, stealing another kiss. "It was named after the son of the Greek sun god," he says between kisses. "The asteroid."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh. Because it - it gets so close."

"The power of Wikipedia right at my fingertips," Tommy says, dancing his fingers up and down the back of Buck's neck for emphasis.

Buck laughs and shivers, shoves his hand inside Tommy's hoodie for warmth and revenge. Tommy half-swallows a yelp and kisses him again. Buck settles closer, craning his neck a little so he can keep an eye on the sky. It is cold, but he's so comfortable, always so comfortable when they settle together like this. 

"The Greek sun god is called Helios, by the way," Tommy says.

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hm."

"How'd you know that?"

"Oh, I've got useless facts of my own, Buckley. Bit of a myths and legends phase as a kid. For a minute, anyway. Needless to say, the old man didn't approve."

"Asshole," Buck mumbles.

"Ancient Greeks were - " Tommy breaks off to yawn. "Were kinda fruity, you know?"

"I'll fight him."

"My hero," Tommy says. "My Heracles."

"Like the movie?"

Buck can feel Tommy's surprise.

"That's the Roman version, but yeah."

"Watched it w' Jee," he says.

"Evan. Don't fall asleep."

"'m not. Tell me - tell me about Hercules. Heracles. Keep me awake."

"Okay," Tommy says softly. "He was…hm. He was the son of Zeus and a mortal woman. I can't remember her name. Al-something, I think. He was strong, and brave, and clever…"

Buck can feel his eyes closing, can feel Tommy drifting too, but it's okay. A little power nap and they'll still have plenty of time before the moon rises.

"Baby," he hears, Tommy's voice rough with sleep, and he feels a gentle nudge. "Baby, wake up."

"Wha - " the moon is bright, and Buck is abruptly aware that every part of him that isn't touching Tommy is freezing cold. "Shit, we missed it? Oh my god. I can't believe we fell asleep!"

"I know," Tommy says. "I'm sorry. Long week, huh?"

"Yeah. Goddamnit. We could try again tomorrow? Tonight was the peak though, and I think there's gonna be cloud cover tomorrow. Shit."

"Hey, it's okay."

"No, but I really wanted to do this with you."

Tommy squeezes his hand and Buck manages not to shiver at the cold touch of his fingers. Shit, they really have to get out of here.

"There's always next year," Tommy says, and the casual way he says it makes Buck's disappointment fizzle and die in his stomach, replaced by that swooping feeling of love and want and ever so slightly disbelieving gratitude at how far they've come.

"Yeah," Buck agrees. "There's always next year."

[ladymarycrawley]

Beautiful boy - Mason Mount

Request : You are 5 almost 6 months pregnant and you found out you will have a baby boy. So you guys spend the week over at his family. After a day out, which tired you more than usual, you and mason head to his bedroom to get ready for bed as everyone went to bed. While Mason has a football game as background on tv ; he is scrolling through his phone. You are cuddled into his side with your back against his chest  , scrolling too on your phone and Mase is craddling your baby bump. You found some pictures from Ben’s birthday party, Christmas&New years Eve that you spent with his family as well some pictures from a mini holiday just you two for his birthday. You are like “Omg” and Mase panicks that something happened to you and the baby. You show him all the pictures and he was clueless at what you are hinting at. You are like” Its the fact that I was growing our baby boy and didn’t even know it”. He then gets all cocky and goofy. But then is all soft. Just all cute and fluff (requested by @raremasey )

Warning: a tiny bit of sexual innuendos but, apart from that, it's all so fluffy

Tag list: @masonxomount​​ @chelsealover​ @masterclassbaby​​

“I’m stuffed”

“They say you have to eat for two now”

“Well, I feel like I’ve eaten for the three of us actually”

Mason laughed, closing your bedroom’s door behind him.

That week you were guests at his parents' as it was nearly Christmas and Debbie wanted to have all the family gathered around to spend the most wonderful time of the year together, that desire being stronger since you and Mason were expecting your first baby and she wanted to spoil you the best she could while living what they say to be the happiest moment in a woman's life. That day in particular turned out to be especially tiring as you spent all the morning and part of the afternoon out for some Christmas shopping, looking for presents and that kind of things, and then went to have dinner at the nicest restaurant in Portsmouth. Needless to say by the end of the day, you were so tired you wanted to see nothing but your bed.

“God, I’m bloated” You whined in front of the full-length mirror hanging on the wall that was showing you the body of a six months pregnant woman wrapped in an elegant dark blue, wrap velvet dress.

“Don’t blame it on the dinner now” The sarcastic jab about your condition your boyfriend just whispered in your neck while hugging you from behind, won him a glare as you batted his hands away from around your stomach.

“That’s all your fault” You muttered, pointing your finger at him.

“My fault?” He chuckled in disbelief “It takes two to tango, babe”

It was crazy how a simple item like a ring could awake such powerful feelings.

His answer left you without anything to retaliate with which was quite unusual for you.

As you stood before the wooden desk that you would use as a table top to leave the jewels you were taking off, you stopped thinking of something to say when your eyes fell on the eternity ring Mason gave you to celebrate the news of your pregnancy: it was a beautiful band ring in platinum with a circle of diamonds all around.

It became a sort of a ritual to admire that symbol of love every time you would let it twirl around your finger or take it off. Just by looking at it you would feel all the love, the overwhelming emotions you felt the moment you opened the small box before his impatient eyes.

“So? You don't have anything to say?” 

He got closer to you and placed a silent kiss on your cheek, moving the hair falling down your shoulder behind your back. His fingers moved to your back to unzip your dress, knowing you would have appreciated him helping you with what had become a difficult action to do lately.

“Nope” You said under your breath as you kept your stare fixed on the shiny thing in your hands. Mason tilted his head to the side as he was trying to get his head around what was going on with you, why your mood changed all of a sudden.

His eyes landed on the ring too, smiling as he grasped what was going on in your head at that moment.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded in response, giving him a quick peck on the tip of his nose.

The smile you gave him when you nodded confirmed Mason what he thought was going on in that pretty head of yours was right but you weren't the kind of person to talk out loud about such moments that made you feel the most intense emotions. He knew that and it was alright, he wouldn’t have forced you, he just needed to know you were alright.

“Move over” You mimicked him to move away so you could take your usual seat between his legs, earning a giggle from him.

As you left him to get in your en suite bathroom to get changed for the night, he sat on the bed of the guest room you were staying in and turned on the tv to catch up on the latest news from the football world which meant watching that day’s highlights as well as gaffers and fellow players’ interviews.

Those past months you had been living with your other half growing your unborn baby, surrounded by the people that were most important to you, instilled a sense of gratitude in your heart which was so strong it made you feel at peace with the world, as if nothing bad could ever happen. Mason was proving to be the loveliest life companion, always ready to meet your needs despite his heavy agenda, as well as his family. You had always been among those people who thought they couldn’t trust other people other than their own family but in that case you had to change your mind as the Mounts were being really supportive.

The natural consequence of those serene thoughts was the soft smile that curved your lips, that never ceased to leave your lips, not when you brushed your make-up remover pad over your painted lips nor when you left your classy attire to change into a more comfortable one for the night.

When you were ready, you joined your boyfriend in your bedroom and smiled at the sight of him sprawled on the bed all cozy with his ruffled hair, in his grey sweatpants and jumper look you loved so much on him.

“Come here” He sat with his back against the headboard so could use his chest as your backrest, as you would usually like to do when having your little, sweet moments of cuddles and pillow talk before going to sleep.

Mason gave you the softest smile, sliding his arms around your belly and planting an as well soft kiss on your temple before asking you how you were feeling.

For a moment he watched the tv attentively before moving his attention to the phone in his hands, as you were doing the same with yours.

"Omg" You blurted out suddenly with a strangled timber that made the Chelsea midfielder jump.

Apparently that night your mind fancied taking you on a trip down memory lane one more time as you opened your camera roll to let all the good memories of the past come alive once again.

It all started with the most recent ones, as you wanted to check the pics you took during that night’s dinner with his family: you holding Summer, you smiling with Jaz and Lewis, a stolen pic of you and Mason sitting at the table together with him whispering something to your ear that was making you laugh while his hand was gently pressed on your baby bump. You loved that kind of photo and you soon found yourself looking at all the ones you took over the years.

"What? What's wrong?? The baby??" Mason was already on his feet, ready to take you to the hospital but he didn't know the hospital was the last place you needed to be at that moment. The baby was perfectly fine, he was just kicking, clearly amused by that funny scene where you were good and his dad was worried as if he was the one about to give birth. 

"Nothing Mase, I'm fine, come here" You giggled, patting the spot behind you in order to signal him to take his place back on the bed.

“I’m fine, it’s just that -” The truth was that you thought you were perfectly fine but, ever more so in the last period, your hormones were taking a toll on you, giving you the most random mood swings. That’s why you started sobbing out of nowhere, leaving Mason disoriented.

 “Y/N -”

“I was looking at all these pics on my phone and god we were so happy…tonight these bloody hormones are turning me into an emotional mess”

A half smile curved Mason’s lips as he took his seat back on the bed. You moved your phone a little to show him what you had been looking at for the past hour.

“Ben’s birthday party” He giggled, as a photo of you all smiling and tipsy appeared on the screen.

“We had so much fun that night”

“Look, do you remember this dinner we had with your family? I found out being pregnant that night” Of course he remembered, yours was just a rethorical question.

“Yeah…that was such an intense day… I thought you were joking at first!” He laughed thinking about that night six months ago.

“Yeah, I know! But then you changed your mind when I showed you the ultrasound with the Chelsea stuff”

To announce him the big news, you decided to surprise him by giving him a little box containing the very first ultrasound of your baby together with a pair of small Chelsea socks and a matching tiny blue jersey with daddy written on the back of it.

“Hey, this was our first mini holiday we had in Portugal!” He commented, scrolling onto another picture.

Mason’s smile grew even wider when his eyes saw the picture you took of him smiling with glistening eyes, showing the camera your baby’s pic with the other two presents you gave him. 

His eyes got glistening with tears again just by thinking about the day that changed your lives forever.

“Yep, it was the first summer we spent together, when we started dating…we had such a good time”

“I remember it very well”

“Can you believe -"

"What?"

"I mean, I’m looking at these memories and I can’t believe I’m now carrying your baby boy and that he was actually growing inside of me when some of these pics were taken…that’s incredible”

Your sincere emotion made Mason’s heart melt, you were the incredible one to him actually. He felt you two would end up together since the first time you started hanging out, it was as if his sixth sense had been telling him your future right from the start. And it was absolutely right.

He let his lips linger on your temple as he was trying to imprint  all the love he felt for you onto your skin.

“I’ve never thought we would make it this far”

“Excuse me??” Your boyfriend’s voice, as it did every time he was offended by something, became high pitched and that never failed to make you laugh.

“Let me explain!”

“Oh yes darling, the least you can do is give me an explanation” He crossed his arms in an angry manner and put on that adorable pout he would do when being sad or upset.

“I mean that I never thought I would end up in a long-term relationship with a footballer, given the disputable fame you all have”

“That’s very shallow of you”

You smiled as it was now your turn to kiss him, your lips brushing against his stubbly cheek.

“But then I had to change my mind”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Everything: your personality, how good you can make me feel…”

“I can make you feel good anytime you want” His voice tone changed from sweet to husky, being well aware that was his sexy voice. Before you could even realise it, he started leaving a trail of not so innocent kisses along your neck, his hand pressed on your swollen belly.

“No Mason, not now…your parents are literally in the room next to us”

“I’m sure they can deal with it, I mean I don’t think they believe I have put a baby in you magically” he scoffed, towering over you.

That line caused your mouth to emit an embarrassed giggle, adding to that the pink tint your cheeks took on.

“Come on Mase”

He knew resisting his kisses mixed with the sensual friction of his beard against your sensitive skin was pure hell to you but he loved being such a tease, especially when you were in a risky situation where the danger of getting caught was high.

"Stop it" You tried to dissuade him using a firmer voice, knowing full well that would have made him pout out of annoyance.

"Okay" He sighed loudly in distress, laying on his back with his arms folded behind his head.

The sad pout on his face made you giggle, making him look like the perfect kind of irresistible man you fell in love with every day. You leaned forward, placing your hand on his bent knee to support yourself, to place a kiss on his lips.

“You know what we can do tomorrow? I’m not talking about sex”

“Not interested then”

“Mase!” You playfully smacked his thigh, making him wince.

“We can look at all the pictures from when you were a baby”

“Not a chance” He sniggered, swinging his leg.

“Well I don’t need your permission, I’m just going to ask your mum”

“Do that and I won’t massage your feet anymore”

“Hey! It’s not fair threatening a pregnant woman!”

“Nor your shoulders”

“Are you really going on with the threats??”

“I love threatening you” He smirked, placing a kiss on your lips. “Plus I felt my baby kick so this means he agrees with his father”

“The opinion of an unborn baby doesn’t count” Your baby boy kicked again, as if to express his disagreement with what you just said. “Fuck, he just kicked again”

“See? Baby Mount is always right” He kissed your belly, smiling as his tender gesture caused your son to kick again.

“I’ll remind you about that in a few years” You smirked, sealing your promise with another kiss. “Fuck, I have to pee again” You muttered bothered, getting up from the bed for the second time that hour to go to the bathroom. The tone of disappointment you just expressed your frustration with made Mason giggle, as he offered you his hand to hop down the bed.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“About what?”

“The baby, we’re gonna be parents…it’s huge”

The fear mixed with excitement that shined through his eyes made your heart clench and swell with love: he just wanted to be the perfect father for his son, he was terrified he might not have been good enough; but deep down your heart, you had no doubt at all he was going to be the best parent your son could wish for. You could already picture him playing football in the garden with him, helping him with his homework, reading his bedtime stories and tucking him in…it was impossible for Mason not to be the amazing dad he wanted to be.

Funny how he usually was the one you would go to to hear some soothing words and now your roles were reversed.

You stepped closer to the bed, standing in front of Mason who was sitting on the edge looking up at you, patiently waiting for your kind and encouraging discourse. The smile you addressed him was a reflection of the totalising love you had for him, the way all those little things were about to make your heart burst out of your chest.

Instinctively, by way of erasing the apprehension painted on his facial features, you brought your hands to his face, brushing your fingers lightly over his cheeks, along the bridge of his nose and against the little wrinkles on his forehead.

“Yeah, that’s huge but you know what? We’re such a strong team we have nothing to fear. I mean, we’ll have our tough moments but we can overcome anything together” 

After a short pause where you had the time to dive in the depth of his brown chocolate orbs that meant the world to you, you resumed your talk.

"I'm scared too about all the challenging moments we'll have to face, I'm scared to death to be fair, but I know we'll be here for each other,  doing our best to raise our child"

“I love you. So much”

“I love you more” You cupped his face before kissing his lips. “You should be the one comforting me by the way”

“You’re back at being mean??”

“I’m not mean, I just said I love you!”

“I won't take you baby shopping tomorrow"

"And you're back threatening me??"

Mason laughed against your lips, capturing them in the umpteenth kiss of the night.

"But you're sexy" Another kiss "So sexy"

You hummed as you moved your lips in sync with his.

"Yeah, whales can be so sexy"

Your line made Mason giggle but he wanted to punish you for the mean comments you reserved for yourself so he playfully slapped your bum.

"You're the sexiest whale ever"

"Let this sexy, tired and incontinent whale go to the bathroom" You chuckled, getting back up on your feet, eliciting a laugh from Mason too.

"Okay but don't be long, I can't wait to cuddle my favourite whale and my baby whale"

"Mount, call me a whale again and I'll kill you"

Mason laughed out loud, laying himself back on the bed waiting for you to come back to him.

“You’d never kill your son’s dad”

“Never say never” The threatening tone you would have liked your answer to come out, turned out to be softened by the yawn that escaped your lips.

“You’re so cute, my sexy and hot whale”

The only answer he deserved in that moment was a middle finger and that’s exactly what you did, trying not to laugh when you heard him whining about your bad manners as you locked yourself in the toilet.

That's all you could ask for: you and the love of your life expecting the baby you would soon cradle in your arms, spending sleepless nights looking at him or, more likely, asking him to stop crying. You were eager to see the fruit of the love between you two, as you were sure he was going to be the most beautiful baby, mainly due to his dad's genes.

Come on beautiful boy, we're waiting for you.

[stackthedeck]

Okay I'm asking abt Johnny Storm

YES YES YES THANK YOU ANON

None of this is canon btw these are just my headcanons based around the fact that the Fantastic Four kind of have this celebrity status in the comics and Johnny really leans into it and also the fact that Johnny got his powers at 16 it might have been reconned to be older tho but you can pry the 60s comics from my cold dead hands

So Johnny drops out of High School to become a mechanic and then eventually the youngest NASA pilot in history (okay that is canon) but he's the backup pilot. He shouldn't have been on that ship, maybe if he wasn't there it wouldn't have all gone wrong. Or maybe he should have been on that ship, if he was in control it would have gone all right. But he comes back to Earth, burning like a meteor and he doesn't stop. And he is 16.

Reed Richards—the genius that pulled him and his sister out of poverty, the genius that thinks he has potential, the genius that got him these powers—is talking about a team. They've been blessed, they've got to help people and he wants Johnny to join. And suddenly the fantastic four are the headline of every newspaper, magazine, tv news across the country, across the world.

When they do interviews or talks at conferences, the important ones about space and science and inventions, Johnny shrinks to the background. Sue and Reed have half a dozen doctorates between them, Ben is an engineer and an astronaut, and Johnny is just a kid. Never mind that he's a mechanic that invented his own engines. But the spotlight isn't on him because he's just the kid

until one day, the spotlight is on him. The fantastic four move on to talk shows and suddenly it's not all science. The people want to know about their powers. Who are these people protecting them? Sure, everyone's powers are cool, but Johnny can light himself on fire and shoot sparks and he's got more charisma than the gruff pile of rocks (no offense Ben, I love that he's mean, he deserves it) and the guy that locks himself in a lab for 12 hours a day.

So Johnny becomes the young beautiful blond face of the fantastic four, America's sweetheart that can smile for the cameras when things go wrong. But it's better than being ignored and pushed to the background, right? At least he's not just the kid. Except he's still a kid.

Soon the team is doing more talk shows and celebrity stuff, it puts the public at ease, it secures funding for Reed and Sue's research, and it's kinda fun. People start asking about their personal lives. Reed and Sue talk about their engagement, Ben talks about his long-term girlfriend, and Johnny talks about...nothing because there's nothing to talk about. Except there has to be, he's a handsome young man, he's a teenage boy, he's a celebrity, there has to be girls plural. So Johnny makes people up, anything to keep the spotlight on him, anything that keeps the team in the public eye. And soon he doesn't have to make girls up because girls are offering. He dates around because he's the playboy or he's told he is.

And he's 16. He's a teenage boy, he's got acne, he's still growing into himself, and his voice cracks. And tabloids run pictures of him with bright red circles pointing out his pimples and bad posture to the whole world. Sue gets questions about her appearance too. Of course, she does, she's beautiful and the only girl on the team. But Reed is always there to put a hand on her shoulder and remind everyone that his girlfriend, his fiancee, his wife has a doctorate and she's working on some very promising research. Johnny doesn't have either of those things, so he answers the questions just to make them stop. Except they don't. His face is on magazine covers, but it's not his face, it's a beautiful stranger. He stares at himself in the mirror and the pimply awkward teenager staring back seems like the stranger. If he looks at himself while he's "flame-on" it's harder to make out his features. Maybe the flame can burn away the imperfections, but it doesn't. He spends hours on a skincare routine and even more hours at the gym until he stops looking 16. The questions still don't stop.

There are count-down clocks for when he turns 18. Except there aren't that many, at least compared to the girl celebrities his age. He's the playboy that's admitted to dating tons of girls, doesn't matter that nobody has seen most of them or Johnny doesn't remember their names. He's a playboy, he runs hot, he's easy. At the big celebrity parties, people are always touching him because he's warm and bright and the face of the fantastic four. because he's a guy and he must want this. And he does because he has to.

Models, actresses, and heiresses flock to him. They laugh at his jokes, they don't ask about his parents, and they don't ask about science stuff. They ask about him, all eyes on him, they give him the attention that the rest of the team is too busy to give him. Johnny is just a kid from a Long Island suburb and these beautiful famous women are interested in him and what he has to say. Never mind that Johnny is also beautiful and famous, the fact of it still so new that it slips his mind. These women lead him away from the parties and he does exactly what they ask and he acts like it's his idea. But he's still just 16

After a particularly bad yelling match with Sue about a scandal he doesn't even remember, Johnny's done. He can't do this anymore, he's sick of the parties and the questions and seeing his face everywhere. He locks himself in the garage for a week, no magazines or tv, just him and his cars. And it's good, he's missed this, missed being in control. Except one night during family dinner, Ben makes a joke about the tabloids thinking Johnny is being cloned or he's in a different country wooing some princess. So, he's not in control. He goes back in public, he does interviews and photoshoots, he goes to parties. The rumors are back to normal. This is his new normal.

And the strange thing is that he missed it. Missed the attention, the spotlight for that one week. When he's with the fantastic four, he's the human torch. When he's at parties, he's beautiful perfect Johnny Storm. When he's alone with his cars, he's just that kid from Glennville. But soon the Fantastic Four isn't the shiny new thing anymore. There are other heroes, some spider-man guy is always on the front page of the Daily Bugle. So Johnny gets into acting, modeling, racecar driving, anything to get people to look at him. What's the point of people building this image of him, of him accepting that image, of him wasting his teenage years getting here if people aren't looking at him. It has to mean something.

Johnny is 17 when Sue asks him who he's dating right now. Johnny shrugs and says it's nothing serious, just another short fling you know how he is. Sue laughs it off but says that she's trying to figure out who to invite to her and Reed's wedding. Johnny asks if there's going to be media there. She says maybe, he says he'll find someone. She stops whatever she was doing and says actually it's going to be really private, no cameras except one wedding photographer for their own memories. Just an off handed idea, they really hadn't thought about it. Sue expects Johnny to complain, but he looks almost relieved when he says he'd rather not bring a date. And that's when it hits Sue that the idea of Johnny that the media has created isn't her baby brother. Oh no. She was supposed to protect him and she set him to space, sent him to topple dictators, sent him on tv. They have a talk after that. She can't take Johnny out of the public eye, not without taking him off the team and that would break him. Johnny wants to be a hero more than anything and she won't take that from him, no matter how big a burden it is.

Johnny doesn't know how to talk to people his age. He misuses slang, he acts older than he is, he's too polished and perfect. He dropped out of high school and before that he moved around and before that he was the kid with a dead mom and a drunk dad. He doesn't have friends, he has fans, he has flings, he has the fantastic four. Until he meets Spider-Man, whose voice cracks too, who talks like he's raised by people from the 40s, who doesn't keep up with scandals and celebrity gossip. He's Johnny's best friend even before he takes off the mask. He's Johnny's worst enemy even after he takes off the mask. Johnny envies his spot on the front page of Bugle, envies that he doesn't care that the papers only have nasty things to say about him, envies the mask. Johnny wants the mask more than anything, but it's too late.

Johnny went into space as the youngest pilot in NASA's history and he came back down a star, brighter than anything, but it's only a matter of time before he goes supernova. Or maybe he won't, maybe he'll just burn out

[whaleofatjme1920]

Can you do a yandere ticci toby hc or yandere ticci toby x reader where toby has ben stalking s/o for a few years and every time she tries to make a male friend or have a bf they wind up missing. Along with bullies that pick on s/o at school or just in public?

Eavesdropping and the Like

[Yandere! Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: mentions of murder, stalking, yandere behavior]

[AN: Hi love bug, sorry this took so long. Here's something along the lines of what you requested. I hope you enjoy <3]

A part of you thinks that you’re cursed, or rather, some part of you just repels everyone else like the wrong part of a magnet.

You weren’t always like this, you swear! When you were in high school, you were sociable and had friends from every circle. You were naturally friendly and sunshiny, and that still holds true to this day.

But college? College has been wildly different. You don’t know if you pissed off someone’s deity or not, but you can’t seem to hold onto ANY relationship for very long before the relationship falls apart. Mostly, other women are safe. If they flirt with you though? They’re gone the next month.

It’s been like this since your freshman year. At first, you shrugged it off to new students being unaware of a new, unfamiliar situation in which people were home sick. Y’know? You were honestly far from home as well, and if you were any more soft hearted without a strong determination to keep doing, you might’ve thrown in as well. But, this happened time and time again.

Getting left on read, not being met for plans, and sadly, you’d grown used to it.

“That’s just how it’s been throughout my college journey,” you attempt to explain to a nice guy you’d met through one of the college’s many events, this one being breakfast at midnight. “Makes me a little sad.” Only a junior and still feeling just as lost when you first came to school. Friendless, alone, and can never get anyone to stay. You stab at your food with your fork, brows creased as you unload some of your anger onto the pancakes in front of you.

The man across from you frowns for a moment before placing his muffin back down on the table. He smiles at you warmly, hand reaching for yours across the table. “That sucks,” he begins, squeezing your hand gently. “Maybe I can turn that frown upside down?” He asks in a slightly joking tone.

Your eyes meet his and you can tell things are going to be different. You feel it. His dark eyes look at you with such purity despite having only met you an hour or so ago. Your heartbeat picks up, and a smile spreads onto your lips. “I think you already have.”

His name is Warren. He’s so sweet and considerate and he looks at you like you command the tides. His voice is soft, and so too are his touches. He’s been with you for a year, which seems short in hindsight but it’s longer than anyone else has stuck around. He’s been nothing but good to you, nothing but loving and sweet and patient and - the thought alone is enough for you to fall deeper and deeper.

The two of you are planning on moving in together once you graduate.

Toby doesn’t know how fast he should act and if he should even act to begin with. The only reason he says this is because he’s been carefully watching you for a few years, observing everything about you. He’s seen your friends, knows their backgrounds, and knows you so intimately it should be a crime, and what he’s doing? In the eyes of everything legal, it is.

Toby is patient, Toby is kind, and Toby is oh so calculating and protective when it comes to you. Usually, Toby kept to the shadows when observing you. He doesn’t need to get directly involved, there was no reason for him to do so. But when one of your friends got a little too close, or some jackass asked for your number? Toby felt his emotions bubble over.

It’s easy to take out people who are nothing more than mindless sheep with little to no survival skills. He’s taken out countless people who are interested in you in more ways than one, both the ones you met and the ones who had just begun to think of you. It’s easy. Real easy. Earlier in your college years, the people he went after were the ones who spoke ill of you as well. If they so much as thought of you wrongly, Toby would be paying a visit. If they disrespect you, they disrespect him - and no one can disrespect Toby.

If Toby wasn’t killing for his own personal gain, the Operator would be more than pleased with him. However, this is all because he wants to, not his group, not his boss, but because he wants you all to himself. He’s selfish.

Watching you in the evenings has become part of Toby’s routine, and it’s put him in a sour mood for the past year. Warren is always around you, orbiting you like you’re the sun. It makes him sick.

Why hasn’t he taken him out yet?

He hasn’t had a chance to. Not one singular opening the entire year that wouldn’t absolutely destroy your psyche in the process. He’s let this go on too far, the weeds are overtaking the garden.

“I’m thinking of the place downtown,” you say as you take a seat at the table, watching as Warren raises a brow.

“Oh really? Thought it was above our budget,” he replies, plating the delicious food. He ensures the portions are good and then takes the steaming plates into his hands, bringing them carefully to the table.

You silently thank him as he places a plate in front of you, a sly grin on your face.

Warren cocks his head to the side before a wide smile blooms on his face. “No, you didn’t,” he states, the realization igniting in his head.

You can barely hide your grin. You begin to nod, a large smile painting on your lips. “I got the promotion!”

“I am so proud of you!” He exclaims, opening his arms as you leap up from your seat and laugh while launching into his arms.

“I am too!” You giggle as he peppers your face in kisses.

“You should be!” He laughs out as he hugs you tighter, spinning you in your small dining room. “You worked so hard for it,” he murmurs into your hair before placing you down, hands still resting on your hips. “You surprise me more and more every day,” he says in a honey-like tone, lips pressing to your forehead.

You tilt your head up and press a kiss to Warren’s lips. “Thank you so, so much,” you say as he begins to sway the two of you.

Toby’s eyes narrow. So, the two of you are moving in together? Interesting. Graduation was a week or so away. He sighs under his breath as he watches you and Warren sit down to dinner, you talking about your promotion and Warren talking about his job at the restaurant. It’s boring, when you’re not speaking.

Warren’s conversation about food and the like bores Toby more than he cares to admit because he doesn’t care unless it’s from you - but then he says something. Toby’s ears perk up and he’s thankful that Warren is speaking for the first time since he first came into your life.

“After we get the place as ours, I can move some minor things over to help you as you kick up with work,” he offers.

You hum with a nod. “That’d be great.”

Toby narrows his eyes at Warren but remains silent. Warren’s finally going to be alone? He supposes he’ll have a lovely house warming present for you soon. He just has to dress it up first.

[foli-vora]

more than words - pt.1

A/N: I’ve had this in my head for forever and a half so it feels good to finally sort my thoughts and random notes out. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual acts/sexual refences (no smut yet but it’s coming so this is strictly 18+)

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

Wednesday nights were pizza nights. A rule established in the early stages of your friendship with Benjamin Miller – a loud mouth, golden hearted ex-spec ops mess of a human being. A chance meeting one stormy day on the freeway, led to something you weren’t expecting – a friendship, and a solid one at that.

“– she damn near tried to suck the life out of me!”

“Jesus Ben, there are kids a table over.”

“So? They shouldn’t be eavesdroppin’ on conversations that don’t concern them.” He grins lopsidedly at your scowl of disapproval, ripping off a mouthful of pizza and humming as he chews it, head swaying to the faint music playing behind the bar. “You’re payin’, by the way.”

You snort quietly, “Don’t I always?”

He recoils, blinking in playful surprise. “Excuse you? I paid last…” he trails off, eyes rolling to the wall as he thinks but a frown soon pinches his brows. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you and I appreciate you.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you signal for another round. “Anyways, reverting to our previous topic before you got carried away with your blowjob story.”

He makes a noise, snapping his fingers as he tries to rush chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “So,” he starts, “I’ve got a friend…”

You groan immediately, letting your head lull back. “Ben –”

This wasn’t anything new. Benny took it as his own personal mission to fix you up with anyone he thought could give you a good time and treat you well. Friends, colleagues, Hell – even his brother at one point. Will was lovely, by all means, but not your type. Both you and Will had agreed you were not a match in the slightest early in the evening, enjoyed a night of beer and pool, and then went your separate ways.

Although, now that you thought about it, Ben hadn’t mentioned setting you up with anyone for a long while. Not since before his mysterious trip.

You still didn’t know anything about it, other than he and some old work friends went on an apparent ‘vacation’. It was more than that – you knew it, and he knew you knew it, but you didn’t push the topic. Instead of interrogating him, forcing question after question on him, you let it go, sensing it was something he really didn’t want to talk about.

He had returned from that trip a few months ago, heavy with exhaustion and usually bright eyes dull and weary. You tucked him into your bed, and left him. He slept for hours. It wasn’t until much later that evening that you crept in to see how he was doing, and found him thrashing silently in the sheets, sweaty and incoherently mumbling, face pinched and puckered in pain. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you knelt beside the bed, softly stroking along his forehead until his erratic movements and breathing calmed. You didn’t bring it up.

“I know, I know,” he threw his hands up in defence with a small grin, “but I think you’ll like this one.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“No, I mean it this time. He’s a real good guy – one of my closest. I think you guys would really hit it off. I haven’t tried to set you up before because he was with the chick but she upped and left him alone with the baby and –”

“Sorry, what?”

“What?”

“He has a baby? Like a… like a child?”

Benny frowns defensively, “You’ve always said you want kids!”

“It’s still a huge commitment, Ben.”

“Jesus, I’m not walking you down the aisle! Just meet him and see where it goes. If it ends in some good sex, you say ‘thank you Ben’ and we move on. And if it ends in something more, you guys take it slow and buy me wings as a thank you.” He shrugs, looking thoroughly impressed with himself, and reaches for his beer, polishing it off in one swig.

“And what if it ends in bad sex?” You challenge, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward to eye him critically.

He scoffs, “Woman please. I know my brothers. You’ll be in good hands.”

You take a moment to thank the waitress as she stops at your table with your beers. She lingers just a little on passing Ben his, an act he didn’t miss as he shoots her a wink and a honeyed, thanks sugar. She smiles, cheeks flooding with colour before she turns and waltzes off towards other customers, swinging her hips as she goes.

You’re expressionless when he finally turns back to you, “Sugar?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Façade cracking, a snicker falls past your lip and you chuckle. “Alright,” you concede, “you’ve got my interest. What’s his name?”

“Fish.”

… what?

“Come again?”

“Francisco – we call him Fish. Catfish, actually.”

“Your age?”

“Bit older.”

You sigh deeply, rolling your head on your shoulders in thought. You were curious, no doubt about it. Despite never being able to make anything last long-term out of the list of men Benny had set you up with, none of them were bad guys. They were all kind, funny and incredibly respectful. One great thing about Benjamin Miller was that he had an impeccable taste in character.

“I don’t know, Ben –”

He slips his phone from his pocket and swipes away at his screen before wordlessly handing you the device. It was a photo, taken from one of Benny’s many weekend trips into the wilderness. Your eyes are dragged from the incredible background of snow peaked mountains and lush green forests to the man standing beside Benny, tucked under his arm. Average build and height, a well-loved trucker cap hiding dark hair. Warm brown eyes, crinkled from a large dimpled grin between dark patched facial hair.

Benny, seeing the sudden spark of interest, grins around his beer bottle. “So, I’ll slip him your number?”

You tighten your jaw and hand his phone back, sniffing impassively as you reach for your beer. “If it means you’ll leave me alone, then fine.” You mutter coolly, ignoring his quiet chuckle.

+

“Wait, wait – you have a best friend and it’s not one of us? I’m cut, Benny. Cut real deep.” Santiago Garcia was curious, to say the least. For years, he had known the youngest Miller and he had never mentioned anyone beyond their little circle or their families. “She cute?”

Benny huffs a chuckle, leaning across the pool table and lining up the final ball. “Hell yeah, she’s cute.”

“Where you been hiding her?”

“She moved away – only came back late last year.”

Santi hums, “Ironhead – she cute?”

Will half smiles, dragging his attention away from the pool table to shrug. “She’s alright.”

His bait works. Benny snaps it up – hook, line and sinker. He stands abruptly from his shot, cue just skimming the white ball, and points an angry finger in his brother’s direction, “I won’t take that shit. She’s a damn angel and you know it.”

Will chuckles to himself before returning his attention to Santi. “Yeah, she’s cute. Show ‘em.”

Benny briefly steps away from the pool table, opens his phone and brings up your Instagram profile, throwing it to Pope and letting him scroll through your feed.

“How come you’ve met her and we haven’t?” Pope aims his question at the older Miller brother, currently bent over the table and pocketing the black ball.

He half shrugs, straightening. “He set us up. It didn’t work out.”

Santi’s face puckers into a teasing glower, and he pouts at the younger Miller. “So, what? You set everyone else up and just leave me to die alone? What’s that about, Benjamin?”

Benny holds his arms out in obvious exaggeration, gesturing deliberately to himself. “You’ve got me.”

Frankie quietly sips his beer and watches in fond amusement, content to stay in the background and away from the bickering. Like Santi, his interest had been piqued but he was somewhat nervous about the situation. He already had feelings of apprehension returning to the dating scene after the shit show of a year he’d had, and those feelings tripled when it came to potentially dating someone close to one of his longest friends. He hadn’t dated in years. He was rusty. What if he disappointed you and Benny ended up kicking his ass? It could get messy real quick.

“I don’t know, man.” He finally pipes up, crossing his arms comfortably across his torso and reclining in the bar stool after peaking over Santi’s shoulder and at the screen he was lazily scrolling through. Ha. Way out of his league. “This kinda shit never works.”

“You sayin’ she’s not good enough for you?”

Frankie shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I’ll take his spot. Give me her number.” Santi holds a hold out, clicking his fingers impatiently when Benny merely rolls his eyes. Pope grins, settling back into his seat and elbowing Frankie softly. “I think you should go for it, man. She seems great, and you need to get back out there.”

“I can’t, I’ve got Mena –”

“And Mena’s got her tío. Go for it. You’re just looking for excuses – no seas cobarde.”

Frankie chews on his lip as he gives it a bit of thought, wondering what’s the worst possible case scenario that could come from it. A busted lip? His self-image in ruins? Scared off from dating for the rest of his life? All things he could live with.

“… alright.”

Immediately, Benny perks up from setting the pool table with a large grin. “Yeah?”

Fish sighs, long and drawn out as Pope playfully pokes his side. “Yeah. Give me her number, I’ll message her now.” Before he freaks and changes his mind.

Maybe he was just thinking too much. What’s the worst that could happen?

+

Tags: @anu-simps​

[descendantofthesparrow]

Encore - Part of your world - Harry Hook x Reader - Part 25 - The Wedding - FINALE

The Wedding

=

You took a deep breath, staring at the calendar on your apartment wall. A very particular date circled in red

May 22nd - Wedding day~!

Today was the day…you would be getting married to Harry Hook, the love of your life. You squealed and jumped around your room, eyes catching onto your dress hanging off your door. You giggled to yourself and grabbed the dress, holding it to your chest and dancing around your room, closing your eyes and imagining Harry dancing along with you as you had your first dance as husband and wife.

“Someone’s excited~” you stopped and turned to face your door, seeing your aunt, (BFF name), Jazzy, Lily, and Emma standing there, fond smiles on their faces. Tonks stepped into the room and pulled you into a hug, your friends joining it soon after “You ready for today?” Tonks asked, smiling as you nodded against her rapidly, the girls pulling back and moving around the room to grab your makeup and other things you would need today, like your shoes, dress, snack bag, and vows.

You glanced at the clock, the time reading 10 am. The wedding started at 4 so you had a good 6 hours before everything happened. But everything you needed that wasn’t at your apartment was in the captain's quarters on your new ship, Harry was getting ready in a different cabin to prevent the ‘seeing the bride before the wedding’ thing.

“We all ready?” your friends and aunt nodded, their necklaces, which had been charmed by Uma to temporarily have the same properties as your necklace, shining for a moment. “Then let's go”

You took your key and stuck it into your doorknob's lock, turning it and opening the portal. You opened the door and stepped through, the girls following after you a moment later.

Tonks gasped a bit setting down the cake she had been holding on the table and spinning around “Wow~!! This-this is yours!?” you beamed and nodded, taking the dress from Jazzy and hanging it off the closet door.

As your friends admired the room and talked amongst each other, Uma stepped into the room, sharing a smile with you and turning to talk with Tonks, gesturing towards the cake.

Tonks nodded and Uma turned back towards the door, calling for Gil, who entered a moment later and took the cake. Not before greeting you cheerfully though. You laughed to yourself and looked at Uma, she already had her teal dress on, her hair curled to perfection and make-up on point, her usual shell necklace seeming to shine with polish.

“You ready girl?” Uma asked, walking up to you and tossing her arm over your shoulder, smirking as you nodded rapidly.

“Hell yeah, I've been waiting for this day for almost a year~” you hummed, unable to keep the smile off your face. “My cheeks hurt from smiling so much but I can't stop!” Uma chuckled, rubbing your shoulder and nodding towards the door.

“Harry’s been a nervous wreck all morning, he’s worried somethings gonna go wrong in preventing him marrying you today, but I shoved a paper bag in his hand and told him to breath, Ben and Harriet are with him right now to prevent him from trying to see you early and any nervous breakdown stuff” you laughed a bit as Uma’s long explanation and shook your head.

“That’s adorable” you chuckled, opening your arms a bit as CJ and smee twins ran into the room, CJ slamming into your side as the twins latched to your legs and hips. “Hello you three, what's up?”

CJ opened her mouth in an attempt to speak when Harriet yelled her name from outside the room. CJ pouted and squeezed your waist, dragging her feet as she walked back out to the main deck.

“Was-was that CJ??” Emma asked, stepping towards you and staring wide-eyed at the door where CJ had gone through “She looks so different than the animated show”

“Everyone does, but didn’t you see her yesterday at the rehearsal?” Emma shrugged and you laughed, patting the Smee twins back and nodding at the small table that had been set up with multiple chairs “You two sit down while we get ready, you’ll have to leave when we get dressed though” they nodded and raced to sit down, Uma taking your snack bag and grabbing some (f/s) for them, setting it down to distract them as Uma and Jazzy sat you down at the vanity and started to work on your hair and makeup, your aunt checking over the dress and making sure it was clean and ready to wear.

You attempted to turn to look at the door as Evie entered but Uma turned you forward again “Don’t move, I don’t wanna stab you with bobby pins” she muttered, continuing to mess with your hair to get it into the style you had chosen for your wedding.

“Okay okay” you laughed, looking at Evie through the mirror as she appeared behind Uma, smiling at your reflection. “Hi Evie~”

“Hi (y/n)~” she sang back, going to work on your hair to help Uma as Jazzy got your makeup ready to use “You ready for today?”

“As I'll ever be” nerves had started to buzz, sending butterflies throughout your body “I just want to be married to him already, and now I gotta wait like six hours to say ‘I do” Evie and Uma laughed, Evie patting your shoulders gently.

“I’m sure the hours will go by quickly, and before you put on your dress you need to look at the main deck décor, Harry went to go look at the reception hall so he’ll be off-ship for a small bit.” You nodded gently against Uma’s amble fingers, pinning your hair and styling expertly.

“Gil took the cake to the reception hall too, so everything is set up there, FG will be here about two hours before the ceremony, guests will arrive about an hour before and then~” Evie leaned down, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pressing her cheek into yours “You’re married to Harry~”

“I’m gonna be honest, I never thought I’d see the day” Uma laughed, smirking as you and Evie looked at her with raised brows “to see Harry get married, he’s always been someone that everyone thought he would grow up without anyone, too rowdy, too rough, too wild spirited to be ‘tied down to anyone” Umas smile turned sad “then again, we all thought love was something worthless, weak…I’m glad you came into our lives (y/n), you taught us, especially Harry, that love is a strength, and one of the greatest things a person can know” you sniffed, quickly rubbing away the tears burning at your eyes and twisting around in your seat to hug Uma tightly.

“Aww” your friends, aunt, and Evie cooed, turning away as Uma gave them a look. You squeezed Uma and pulled back, giving her a watery smile.

“Thank you” you whispered, laughing as Uma wiped away the tear rolling down your cheek.

“No, thank you”  Uma patted your head and twisted you back around “Okay, enough sappy shit let's get you ready to get married to Harry!”

“Hey, that rhymed!” Emma cheered,  setting up mirrors on the table for the bridesmaids to get their hair and make-up ready.

“Let's do this!” you laughed as the girls cheered and got to work, putting on make-up and doing their hair as Uma continued to get you ready.

-

“Harry, breathe” Harry glared at Harriet as he paced around the cabin he had been in for the past hour, (y/n) was in the captain's quarters, getting ready for their wedding and all he wanted to do was burst in there and smother her in affection.

But no one would let him as apparently, seeing the bride before the official reveal meant bad luck, and Harry didn’t want any of that for their marriage. “Harry really” Ben grabbed Harry's shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile “you have nothing to be nervous about, Uma made sure the weather will be perfect the entire day, (y/n) loves you to death, you love her to death, everything is ready. This day is going to go great” Harry took a couple of deep breaths and slowly nodded, giving Ben a small smirk.

“Thanks, beasty boy” he mumbled, rolling his neck and stepping in front of the standing mirror, grabbing his cravat and tying it around his neck, Harriet and Ben talking in the background. He smoothed down the front of his black with red trim vest, corrected his sleeve cuffs, and took another deep breath.

He glanced at the clock, closing his eyes a bit and groaning.

12 pm.

Four hours left.

-

Dizzy and Celia rocked on their heels, waiting inside the captain's quarters as the ceremony drew closer. “Okay, guys!” Evie clapped her hands, drawing the attention of the bridesmaids and groomsmen/best maid. “You know the order and drill, Emma you'll walk out with Jay, Carlos with Jazzy, Ben with Lily, Gil with (BFF name), Harriet with Uma, and CJ you’ll be walking with the twins! Celia, Dizzy!” the two looked directly at Evie “You’ll be walking out just before (y/n) and Tonks, laying the petals on the pathway towards Harry before (y/n) takes her walk, okay?” they both nodded, Celia giving Evie a thumbs up. “Awesome~ okay!!! It's time~!! (y/n)-oh, my goodness~!!”

Everyone gasped and went silent as you stepped out from behind the changing screen in the corner of the room, the dress had been just as beautiful as when you last put it on, but now it was joined by your veil that gently flowed behind your head down to your waist, your hair elegantly pulled into (preferred hairstyle for wedding stuff), your face was painted with light yet alluring makeup, lips a softer red than your natural lips and shimmery (e/s/c) accenting your eyes with a curling wing finishing it off.

“Oh, my, evil” Uma gasped holding her hands to her chest as she stared at you wide-eyed, Evie walking up to you and looking over your dress to check for any makeup stains. “You look amazing (y/n)!”

“Thank you” you whispered, trying to keep the tears from ruining your make-up, laughing as Evie came to the rescue with her handkerchief. “Thank you” Evie smiled at you, pulling back and looking towards the door as the music began to play.

“Okay! It's go time! Go go go!” the groomsmen and bridesmaids all got into a line, Evie opening the door and letting them through, smiling as she spotted Harry staring directly at her, adjusting his shirt collar slightly as the wedding party made their way down the isle.

CJ grabbed onto the twins, one on each side of her as she walked out next. Evie smiled at you one last time and walked out of the room, quickly going to sit down with Mal and Jane as Celia and Dizzy skipped out into the isle, laying down the petals as a pathway for you to Harry.

Mal nodded at Harry to Evie, Evie cooing as she saw Harry's teary eyes filled with excitement and nervousness. “So cute” Evie whispered, gasping and turning as the wedding march began to play, the captains quarters door opening, and Evie heard Harry’s breath stop as you and your aunt stepped out.

The sun that was beginning to set illuminated you beautifully, your face set in a soft watery smile as you looked to Harry, who was crying. He wiped the tears streaming down his face, a bright smile on his lips as he looked at you. Harriet bumped his arm and handed him a tissue, Harry quickly drying his face and tossing it back at her.

Tonks kissed your cheek and held out your hand to Harry, who stepped towards you and eagerly took it, drawing you closer to him and taking a deep breath “Yeh…yeh look beautiful” Harry whispered, taking your other hand as you handed your bouquet to Uma.

“Thank you, you look very handsome” you whispered back, lifting one of your hands to rub your thumb against the red fabric of his black and red tailcoat. And it was the truth, Harry laughed a bit and wiped another tear off his cheek, FG smiling brightly as you both turned to her.

“Are we ready?” she asked gently, nodding as you and Harry looked at each other softly “Then let's begin” FG opened her book and smiled at the crowd, her eyes sparkling with Joy “Today we celebrate the union of (y/n) (l/n) and Harry Hook, on behalf of the bride and groom, thank you for joining us. By your presence, you celebrate with them the love they have discovered in each other, and you support their decision to commit themselves to a lifelong relationship.

Marriage is a bond to be entered into only after considerable thought and reflection. By making this commitment today, (y/n) and Harry’s relationship will become stronger, better, and deeper.

Today, (y/n) and Harry demonstrate their devotion to each other by dedicating themselves to a life together and they show their respect for each other. By setting forth to honor the vows they have created today, their lives, which began on separate paths, will be joined as one.”

You could feel the tears burn in your eyes as FG spoke, laughing quietly as Harry blinked away his own tears, hands clutching tightly onto yours. You looked to the side a bit, feeling another pair of eyes on you, and smiled as you saw Persephone and Hades, sitting at the back and watching the wedding. She had never quite explained why she was so invested in your relationship, but you never really bothered to question it either, just happy to be with Harry.

“Deep abiding affection, the magical and compelling shared impulse that makes us seek each other’s company, is among the greatest gifts of the human experience.” FG’s voice came back into focus as you looked back at Harry, reaching up and cupping his cheek as tears continued to streak down his face, wiping them away with your thumb, you heard some of the crowd coo as you did so, Harriet once again offering a tissue.

“Any of us who has been fortunate enough to find and express the kind of loving devotion that we are celebrating here today knows that it is an awesome and beautiful thing.

At this time, I would like to share 3 suggestions with the both of you:

My first suggestion is this:

Be constantly grateful for this precious person who has chosen to make a life with you.

My second suggestion is this:

Be generous with compliments.  Be attentive and helpful. The world can be a tough place and any of us can be subject to rough handling.  Each of you can, by your tenderness toward each other, kind words and thoughtful actions, make your marriage and your home an uplifting refuge.

Last, but perhaps most importantly:

Make truth the unfailing bedrock of your lives together. A happy, loving marriage is built on trust and respect. That trust and respect can only be sustained if you are both deeply committed to always being open and truthful in every exchange no matter how small.

My hope for you is this:

That you have many long years to delight in each other’s company, to feel gratitude for your great fortune in having found each other.

To a make home together that is at once sheltering and welcoming, to each do meaningful, productive work at home and in the world and to love and be loved by the friends and family who have come here today to support you”

FG smiled, letting you and Harry face her before she continued “(y/n) (l/n), do you take Harry to be your lawfully wedded husband, and travel the rest of life’s road with him? Will you love him, laugh with him, comfort him, honor and protect him, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?” you rapidly nodded, squeezing Harry's hands, giving him a bright smile as your voice wavered.

“I do” FG nodded, looking to Harry as he sniffed and quickly rubbed his face as you gently laughed.

“Harry Hook, do you take (y/n) (l/n) to be your lawfully wedded wife and travel the rest of life’s road with her? Will you love her, laugh with her, comfort her, honor and protect her, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”

“I do” Harry's voice cracked as he spoke, making the crowd laugh quietly and coo again as he nodded along with his words, taking a wobbly breath as you tilted your head and smiled at him.

FG nodded again, looking down at her book before looking up again “And now, they shall say their vows, I've been told you’ve written your own?” you and Harry nodded “All right then, who would like to go first?” “ I will” you spoke up, taking back one of your hands and sticking them into the dress pockets, Harry gasping a bit in excitement

“Pockets~” he cheered quietly, biting his lip as you grinned back at him.

“Pockets~” you cheered back, opening the paper with your vows and taking a deep breath. “Three years ago, I fell into this world…literally” the crowd laughed, Bonnie and Desiree clapping a bit “and the one thing I didn’t expect was to see you, but I knew the moment I saw you that it was going to grow into something, but I didn’t know then that it would be love.” You bit your lip as Harry sobbed lightly, bringing up his free hand and wiping his cheek “I grew up thinking I would never find someone for me, I thought I would end up alone with twelve cats and fifteen dogs” Harry snorted at that, biting his lip “but that all changed when I saw you for the first time. And I knew that I was going to be by your side for the rest of my life, either as your friend or as your lover. I have never felt a deeper love for anyone else in my life, you are my sadness and my joy, but most of all you are my love. I promise to always protect you and your sisters, I promise to always love and cherish you, I promise to eat any leftover Brussels sprouts that Harriet makes you eat” Harry laughed, Harriet behind him rolling her eyes “I promise to always be there for you, and I promise to love you from now to the end of time, and just a little bit more”

You let out a small coo as you looked at Harry, who was softly sobbing and attempting to wipe away the tears that were streaming down his cheeks again. “Fuck” he mumbled, laughing as Harriet patted his back. “My turn I guess?” you and FG nodded, Harry taking your hand again as he took out his vows from his pockets.

“um, when-when I met yeh” Harry's voice cracked as he started, laughing a bit as you reached towards his face and wiped another tear away “I didn’t know I would love yeh this much, I didn’t know how much I would come ta care about yeh, but I’m so damn happy yeh came into meh life, and I know that I would be in a very different situation and I would be a different person without yeh. Yeh protected meh from meh father and so many other people who tried to hurt meh, yeh accepted my sisters and friends as yer own family even before we got together, yeh have been by my side since before we even really knew each other, and when-and when yeh stayed up with me all night when I had one of my nightmares, that was when I knew I loved yeh. But-but”

Harry sniffed, wiping another set of tears away as his voice cracked “I dinne know how much I loved yeh, until I lost yeh for almost two years, I-I love yeh so much that I was in physical pain when yeh were gone, and I could only breathe again when I saw yer face again for the first time” you gasped for breath as tears almost spilled from your eyes, but Uma quickly handed you a tissue and you saved your makeup, you let out a breathy laugh and looked back at Harry, giving him a blinding smile.

“I-I never thought I could feel so much for a person…as yeh…and-and I just desperately need yeh ta take care of meh because I’m a mess all the time” you laughed, squeezing Harry's free hand as you stepped slightly closer to him, staring into his bright ocean blue eyes. “I-I wrote a whole thing” he nodded down to the paper he was holding, the crowd laughing a bit as he crumbled it up and shoved it back in his pocket “But it's long and repetitive”

He took your other hand, giving you that smile that you oh so dearly loved of his “and ultimately, I just want ta promise yeh that I will love you forever…I will always show yeh affection, I will always be happy ta see yeh no matter how hard the day was, I will always be sad ta leave yeh when I have ta do first mate stuff fer Uma” Uma chuckled behind you, dabbing her eyes with a tissue “I will always care for yeh, if yeh are sick or hurt. I will always celebrate you and celebrate with yeh when yeh are happy. And most importantly, I promise ta be yer best friend…because yeh are my best friend” Carlos smacked Gil when he made a small noise, Gil laughing a bit as he did so. “And all of these things are promises I have ta make, but I have no intention of ever not making. Because I love yeh so much and I’ll never stop.”

You took a wobbly breath, squeezing his hands again and looking to FG, who was dabbing her eyes quickly. “Ah yes, of course, the rings?” Skipper and Sterling stepped forward, both holding a small red box in their hands. You took the box from Sterling while Harry took the box from Skipper, Harry patting Skipper's head before the two joined their father in the crowd.

“Now” FG started, turning to Harry “Harry, repeat after me;” he nodded, taking the ring out of the box and cradling your left hand, the golden band shining against the sun. “ With this ring”

“With this ring” Harry repeated softly, staring into your eyes, smiling as he slid the ring onto your finger.

“I am giving you my promise,”

“I am giving yeh meh promise,”

“to always love you,”

“ta always love yeh,”

“cherish you,”

“Cherish yeh,”

“honor you and comfort you.”

“honor yeh an’ comfort yeh”

“ I promise that I will love you”

“I promise that I will love yeh”

“and keep my heart open to you”

“an’ keep meh ‘eart open ta yeh”

“All the days of my life.”

“All tha’ days of meh life.”

FG nodded, turning to you and you repeated the same words to Harry, sliding the golden band onto his ring finger, intertwining your fingers as you did.

“(y/n) and Harry, we have heard your promise to share your lives in marriage. In the honesty and sincerity of what you have said and done here today, and in accordance with the laws of the state of Auradon it is my honor and delight to declare you henceforth to be husband and wife.” You beamed at Harry, jumping in place slightly as your favorite part was only a moment away “You may now kiss the bride” you grabbed the lapels of Harry's tailcoat and pulled him into you, sealing your marriage with a passionate kiss, Harry's arms wrapping around your waist and picking you up off your feet as the wedding party stood and cheered, some of the crew popping off confetti poppers.

FG beamed as you and Harry pulled apart, stopping for a moment to stare into each other's eyes “Everyone~!” FG called out, clapping her hands together as you and Harry faced the crowd “May I introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Hook!”

-

An hour later, everyone sat in the reception hall, you and Harry sitting in the middle of the table at the front as your main wedding party surrounded you, Harriet on Harry’s left as Uma sat to your right, the Smee twins enjoying their macaroni and cheese as they ate dinner with their dad. Dizzy and Celia sat with Evie as they ate their chicken and potatoes, Mal chatting away to Evie as they sipped at their sparkling cider.

Harriet tapped against her glass with a knife and stood, giving an awkward grin as she did as everyone turned to look at her “Uh, I was told it's time for the best maid and maid of honor speeches so I guess I’ll get it over with?” Harry shook his head fondly, wrapping his arm around your waist and leaning against you, bumping his head into yours as the hall went silent to prepare to listen to Harriet.

Harriet took a deep breath and looked to you and Harry “I don’t have a big fancy speech all written down so Im’ma just go for it…so when as we were growing up, I was basically Harry and CJ’s mom, I took care of them the best I could and hoped they didn’t die when they went out to cause whatever chaos they had decided on, the first time I stopped worrying about Harry was when he made friends with Uma, because other than (y/n) and I, she is the only person who can ever tell Harry what to do and he’ll actually listen” Harry rolled his eyes at that, the party laughing along.

“But there was always a part of me that was scared for Harry, that something would hurt him…that part disappeared when I met you after the incident, when uncle Smee told me someone from Uma’s crew had destroyed my father and his crew all on her own, and saved Harry from him. When I met you after that day, I had expected someone cold, someone who had only saved Harry from my father for personal gain…but I was wrong” Harriet gave you a soft smile, tears brimming at the edge of her eyes

“you were someone that- while you hadn’t known him for very long, -that deeply cared about my brother, and I could see that as soon as I saw you. And as you and Harry started to be together more often than not, I saw him grow from the little shit that always bothered me, to the young man who I am so proud of” Harry sniffed and wiped away a tear, looking up at his sister with a watery smile “Thanks to you, my brother is still around today and I’m so glad you’re the one he fell in love with, you are everything I ever wanted for him and I am proud of you both” Harriet raised her glass a bit, the wedding party following her lead “I wish you an eternity of love and happiness, to Harry and (y/n)”

“To Harry and (y/n)!” Everyone drank from their glass as Harry stood and wrapped his sister in a hug, burying his face in her neck as she rubbed his back.

“Thank yeh” he whispered against her neck, laughing as she pulled back and kissed his cheek, something which she hadn’t done since they were kids.

“Thank you” she whispered back, the two sitting down as Uma stood with her glass.

“Dunno how I’m gonna top that but!” the crowd laughed again, Uma smiling as you squeezed her hand and grinned up at her. “Um…I guess I’ll start with this, (y/n).” she looked down at you, taking a deep breath “When Harry first dragged you into the chip shop to join the crew, I honestly didn’t think much of you, even after Harry told me you outran the Gaston twins, and then when you stole Gaston’s prize trophy the next day” you glanced at Ben, snickering at the shocked look on his face “When you arrived, I had no idea how much of an impact you would have on us” she gestured to her, Gil, and Harry, then the crew.

“But I knew how important you would become to us when you came back from the Jolly Rodger after dealing with James Hook for Harry, and I’m really glad you came into our lives, especially Harry’s because, without you, I don’t think any of us would be the people we are today. Then as the months went by, and I saw Harry fall in love with you, it wasn’t until you told me where you were truly from that I saw you truly loved him back, willing to hurt yourself to protect his feelings, which still, that was stupid as fuck and I have no regrets from yelling at you about it” you snorted and rolled your eyes, hitting Umas elbow gently as she smirked at you.

“And I feel like I've already talked too long so I’ll end it with, I’m glad you and Harry are together and I love you both, and I’m so happy for you” she raised her glass, the wedding party following her lead as they did Harriets “to Harry and (y/n)!”

“To Harry and (y/n)!!”

As Uma sat down you leaned over to wrap her in a hug, Harry doing the same and wrapping his arms around both you and Uma. “I love you” Uma whispered, grinning as you and Harry whispered it back.

Soon it was time for your first dance as husband and wife, Harry leading you out to the dance floor as the orchestra that Ben hired for you got ready. The reception hall went quiet as Harry's hand rested gently on the small of your back, a small gasp escaping you as he smirked.

-I’m going to describe this as best I can but in case I don’t clearly do so, watch this as you read or just watch to get the dance/music for the first dance-

The music began to play, and Harry started to sway you side to side, then he turned, spinning the both of you around, your back facing the crowd as he looked directly at you. “They’re all looking at you” you whispered teasingly, unable to keep the smile off your face as Harry gave you that flirtatious smirk of his.

“Believe me love, they’re all lookin’ at yeh” he pulled you towards him, stepping to the side as you turned slightly and stood at his side, his other hand resting on your back again. Since you had first seen the movie, the 2015 Cinderella, you had wanted the ballroom dance to be your first wedding dance, and Harry had listened. And he was doing all you had imagined and more, having practiced the dance over and over even when you weren’t available to do so.

He pushed you back in front of him, this time his hand going under your arm, pushing it up and down in time with the music, your quiet laughter making his smirk turn to a wide grin, watching you fondly as you enjoyed your first dance.

On the fourth push, he pushed your arm over your head, leading it to a spin from you and leading your arm to rest on his chest, his hand resting in yours as your fingers caressed his face. He pushed you back out, your dress flaring as you spun before going back to him, your arm switching to the other side of his chest.

He pushed you out one last time, now holding out his arm as you spun and grabbed it, walking the two of you in a small circle as you spun in time with the cadence of the music. You spun again and grabbed the front of his arm this time, laughing quietly as he winked at you.

He gently pushed you out to spin again, your dress flaring perfectly as you linked hands and pulled each other in, your arms above your head. You did that once more before Harry pulled you into him, one arm resting on your upper back while the other held your hand. You laughed, letting your head fall back as Harry danced you around in a small circle. The world had seemed to fade away as you danced, you and Harry being the only two in the room, your hearts and soul in sync as you swayed to the music and each other.

Harry pulled away ever so slightly, grabbing onto your hand and guiding you as you spun from one side to the other, he did that three times before pulling you back into him, your back to his chest as one hand rested on your waist while the other intertwined with your hand.

Harry spun you back around, you once again facing him as he lead you around the dance floor, the guests gasping in awe as your dress flared around you and shimmered under the spotlights. Harry spun you as the music flared, laughing at the small breathless gasp that erupted from you.

He gently grabbed your hip, pulling you onto him slightly as he lifted you and spun around, your dress flaring again as he did so. You laughed again as Harry pulled you into his lift side and dipped you ever so slightly, then joining your hands again as you spun. He released your hands, the two of you spinning away from each other for a moment then joining hands again, then spinning once more.

Harry caught your hand and upper back and started to dance you around the room. as you reached some of the guests, he grabbed your waist with one of his hands and lifted you in the air away from them, smiling at the laughter that spilled from your lips. He pulled you into the middle of the dance floor, spinning both of you around as he grabbed your hips and lifted you into the air as he spun, unable to keep his smile and laughter at bay as you gasped in shock and excitement.

He set you back down on the floor, your faces only inches away from each other as he spun the both of you around one last time, grabbing your hand and waist and dipping you slowly as the music came to an end. You both were out of breath as the violins played their last note, Harry taking your hand and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles as he bowed to you, you laughed and lowered your head.

The hall burst into applause, the world fading back to normal as you and Harry excited your private little world.

Ben motioned the orchestra again as the applause died down, and they began to play fast-paced music for everyone to dance to, the guests flooding the dance floor as you and Harry joined hands again to dance.

-

A few hours later, the cake was cut, the dances were danced, the food was eaten, and you and Harry were all reception partied out. The crew and many of the vks had wished to continue to party the night out, so you and Harry gave them the green light to continue having fun as you walked out of the reception hall. Harry had driven you back to the ship by the ‘just married’ Mercedes Ben had gifted you for today. He pulled up to the docks and turned off the car, running to the other side and helping you out, holding much of your dress in one hand as you carried your heels.

You let out a small sigh as you stepped onto the main deck, the crew had cleaned it after your photos were taken and you and Harry had left for the reception hall so it was almost as if a wedding hadn’t taken place on the main deck.

Harry let your dress fall as you tugged the skirt away from him gently, kissing your cheek as you leaned into him “What a day” you whispered, setting down your heels and walking towards the front of the ship near the bow, leaning against the rails that faced the ocean. The sun had long since set, the moon slowly rising high in the sky as stars decorated the black of night.

Harry joined you a moment later, wrapping one arm around you as the other leaned on the rail, his hand only niches from yours as you both stared at the stars. “We’re married” Harry laughed quietly, knocking his head into yours gently as you pushed into him, closing your eyes “hard ta believe it really happened, it’s been wha’? three years since we met then almos’ a year since I proposed ta yeh?” you hummed against him, nodding.

“Yeah, it's been a while” you laughed, pulling back slightly and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “but I’m glad it happened”

“Me too” Harry hummed, pulling you closer to his side, kissing your forehead. “I love yeh”

“I love you too”

You both went silent, listening to the waves crashing against the ship and shore, just enjoying each other's company.

You pulled away from Harry slightly and looked behind you, feeling another presence on the ship. You smiled, seeing Persephone smiling at you. Harry turned, nodding in greeting to her. “Congratulations,” she hummed, looking up at the stars “what are you two going to do now?”

“Dunno” you answered simply, leaning against Harry again and closing your eyes, enjoying the warmth seeping from him to you. “All up in the air right now” “Any plans for children?” you snickered as Harry froze and shook your head.

“Not at the moment, again it's just…All up in the air” Harry hummed at that, looking out towards the ocean as he rubbed your back.

“…Question” Harry started, looking to Persephone, who tilted her head “Why-why are yeh so invested in our relationship?” Persephone paused at that, pursing her lips. “If I had to be honest? I’m not really sure, but when (y/n) landed in our world I got attached to her for one reason or another. It might be because the ember is why you are here in the first place?” your brows rose at that, tilting your head.

“The-the ember? Like Hades ember? How?” Persephone nodded, crossing her arms as she looked back toward Auradon city.

“well, you do know about the crack deep below the isle, right? The one that was very close to my husband's lair on the isle?” you nodded, Harry raising his brow, completely lost.

“I’ll explain later” you whispered, gesturing for Persephone to continue.

“Well, the crack allows magic to seep in, and the ember is a part of Hades powers, and he can control and guide souls, and I suppose some magic slipped in and affected the ember. The ember found your soul and then connected it with Harrys, and it realized you are soulmates and sought to bring the two of you together, and because it couldn’t take Harry and bring him to your world, it would take much more magic to do that, it took you and brought you here” you stared at Persephone for a moment before sighing.

“Soooo the ember is wha’ brought us together?” Harry guessed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side again.

“That’s the gist of it, it’s also why the ember brought you back on the bridge after Uma dropped it, it had full access to its powers and again, sought to bring you and Harry back together…plus I manipulated it a bit to transport you here” Persephone laughed a bit at the last couple words, giving an awkward smile.

“Thank you” you laughed, and you were genuinely thanking her, because without her influence you and Harry might have never been able to meet or get married.

“You’re welcome…now I think I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, and again, congratulations” you and Harry waved her off as she disappeared in a cloud of pastel green and pink smoke.

You and Harry smiled at each other, Harry leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away, both of you turning to look at the moon.

“So what are our plans fer the future?” Harry quietly asked, moving his hand to intertwine with yours.

“Well,” you started, pursing your lips as you glanced along the ocean, seeing some mermaids in the distance. “we could explore the world, or stay in Auradon, we could have kids soon or we can wait, or just not have any.”

Harry laughed, bringing up your hand and kissing your palm “Well, I’m up fer anything with yeh as long as I can be a part of yer world”

“Oh, Harry” you cooed, gently taking your hand from his and cupping his cheeks, smiling at him. “You are my world”

Harry gave you a teary-eyed smile, his eyes closing as you leaned in and kissed him.

Now we can walk

Now we can run

Now we can stay all day in the sun

Just you and me

Forever be

Part of your world

-The End~-

Wow…wow its-its actually finished…the original part of your world has been fully written. Almost 3 years of writing has come to a close, I started this in October 2018 and finished in May 2021, it has been 2 years and 7 months since I first posted the first part of this series, and honestly, it's weird to look back and see how much my writing has improved.

Well, this is the end of our journey, Harry and (y/n)s story is finished, this is open-ended so if you want to have kids with Harry you can, if not then you don’t, if you want to travel the world with Harry or not, it's all up to you, it's your story now. (that doesn’t mean you can continue writing the story just imagine it okay *yes I had to write that, some people would take the ending and decide to write their own continuation without my consent and I didn’t want to risk it*)

Again I am planning on revising and rewriting the first two parts of this series (Part of your world and Reprise) and then rewrite the first 15 parts of Encore cuz I feel like I need to so the old writing can catch up with the new writing. But ill be holding off on that until I finish Rewrite-POYW, which if you didn’t know is an AU of this fic that I have been writing since last year, and it's ongoing at the moment. The mini-series is being posted and written right now and it leads up to D3, which will be posted in August.

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange @lunanight2012​

@daughter-of-the-stars11​ @musicarose​ @random-thoughts-003​

@remembered-license​ @rintheemolion​ @verboetoperee​

@imtryingthisout​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @jatp-rules-my-life​

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Found Out

CW: Not much! Just some brief references to death and to pet whump

“Remind me why I’m watching fucking youtube videos of fucking gymnasts today?” Will asks, laid out on the couch with his legs over Mari’s lap as she fiddled with her phone. Brooke and Laken have half the carpet in the student lounge for their dorm covered in papers, markers, and pens, working on some kind of poster for a party Brooke is throwing. 

“Because,” Becka - she’s in a bunch of Will’s classes and is doing printmaking for her major, which makes her officially cooler than Will himself - says, sitting legs-crossed on the floor looking up at the lounge TV, then down at the laptop open in front of her. “Akio Nakamura literally grew up like two hours from here, he trains right near here!”

“I have no idea who that is,” Mari says without looking up, huffing a hint of soundless laughter. Will sits himself up a little on his elbows and turns to look as Becka finally gets the cast to work. Youtube pops up on the TV screen, the video frozen right at the start, with AKIO NAKAMURA, 20XX Musical Floor Routine  just underneath.

Paused and ready to begin is a screenshot from the video, of a short, heavily muscled teenage boy grinning over his shoulder at someone off screen. 

“He’s the favorite for the U.S. team for the Olympics this year! I always follow gymnastics and figure skating, basically that’s all I care about, but Akio is the best. He is definitely getting the gold this year.” 

“Oh, definitely,” Brooke says, with an exaggerated nod. “Definitely the gold, uh-huh.”

“Yes,” Mari cuts in. “I care very deeply about this and also agree that he will get the gold. Um. Whoever he is.”

“Fuck off, guys.” Becka flips them off over her shoulder without looking back and clicks, a narrator - presumably Nakamura himself - explaining the floor routine he’s about to do, that when he’s not competing he’s always liked to build himself a music-based routine, and this recording has been around for a long time and he’s just getting around to loading it up.

“For a long time I never touched these old recordings - you know, it just, you’ll see why later - but I think it’s probably time. And I really liked what we did.”

“We?” Mari asks.

“Sssshhhhh.”

The same teenager from the screenshot steps out onto a large mat in a gymnast’s leotard, taking position. His team is lounging in the background, talking to each other, to the coach, practicing their own moves. They’re a mix of blondes, brunettes, redheads, and people with black hair, a bunch of kids of varying ages, heights, weights, and looks. 

Will squints at a redhead in the corner of the screen, watching Nakamura take position from just in the corner, bouncing on his toes, rolling his shoulders, in a constant nonstop motion. Something about the redhead looks vaguely familiar, but the video is a little blurry from casting larger onto the TV and hasn’t settled into crispness yet. 

“Wait, I thought dudes didn’t get to use music,” Ben says from the table over in the corner, where he’s been steadfastly ignoring everyone else while reading a book and claiming it counts as hanging out if I’m physically here, okay, trust me, I’m an introvert. He looks up, now, with some vague hint of interest. 

Becka sighs and hits pause again. “They don’t,” She explains, patiently. “Male gymnast floor routines are all about strength, and rhythm isn’t really important. But Akio likes to use music and he does these videos where he does the same kind of floor routines the girls do? I think just for fun. But he has a whole youtube channel and there’s a bunch on here, and he’s been putting up old ones from way, way back. I guess some friend of his who died is in them, so he just got around to looking at them again.”

“Lovely. And you’re inflicting this on us because…”

“Mari, seriously, it’s so cool to watch. Just fucking deal with it, or keep scrolling.”

Mari grins, nudging Becka with her foot. “Kidding, Becks. I’m watching, I promise. Hey, where’s Chris?”

Laken shrugs without looking up from their current work very carefully gluing an intricate paper cutout down to the posterboard. “Dunno. Had something to do with his brother, I think.”

“I swear, I’m a twin and I don’t like my brother as much as he likes his,” Brooke says, rolling her eyes, and Laken snorts, eyes slightly crossed as they very carefully pull a small line of glue in a perfect spiral with the paper.

“Guys, for the love of fuck, just shut up and let me watch this.” Becka waves her hand backwards, and Laken and Brooke share a look and an eyeroll, but the room goes quiet. Becka hits play again, and the music kicks on, something bright and upbeat nobody in the room recognizes immediately. 

Akio rolls his neck, gets a grin on his face, and takes off across the mat, tensing at the last half-second before he seems to jump and fold forwards at once, backflipping once, twice, before he spins in the air and lands with his feet in perfect position, arms up - then he winks at the camera and rocks his hips, and Mari, Will, and Brooke all let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and laughter.

“Good God, that boy just had fun with his pelvis,” Mari says, mock-scandalized.

“Watch, just, just watch-” Becka waves her hand again and the group watches Nakamura dance across the mat, matching the rhythm of the song exactly, dropping into a split and then back up again like gravity is something he can simply turn off whenever he wants. He folds himself over backwards and walks on his hands before he’s back up on his feet, with a quick spin and another hip-rock, backing his way into the marked-off spot in the corner. There’s another running set of flips and jumps and Will is watching, and it’s crazy as hell, sure, but his eyes keep getting drawn to that boy in the corner.

Wearing the same leotard, the boy is dancing along with Nakamura, matching all his in-between-moves perfectly, a bright, shining smile on his face, clapping every time Nakamura nails a flip or a jump, edging his slow way up to just at the other corner on that side.

“Hey,” Ben says, but his voice is too quiet, and the drums are louder suddenly, like someone just turned the speakers up. Will hears him, though, and looks over to see Ben making the exact face as what Will is feeling.

Except…

Ben swallows so hard Will can see his Adam’s apple move.

“All right, so in this one, one of the kids I used to train with, Tristan Higgs, and I had kind of planned out a bit at the end - okay, watch Tristan right… about… now.”

Nakamura lands a jump, moves into a dance, and the redhead runs up onto the mat, takes his own position with his arms up, and shoots Nakamura a brilliant smile before he takes off himself. He’s short, and heavily muscled, but that smile is unmistakable.

While the redhead runs, Nakamura dances to the side, watching him with a grin.

“What the fuck?” Ben says from the corner, slamming his book shut and standing up, walking closer to watch the screen. “Do you guys-... do you see that?”

“They can’t do this in competition,” Becka says, misunderstanding the sudden silence to be awe, confusion at the routine itself. “It’s too dangerous. But nothing happens, they just have fun.”

The redhead does three backflips and then spins, hits his landing perfectly - the team throws up a deafening cheer - and he launches into the dance right as Nakamura is back in position for his next run. 

They move around each other fluidly, for a while dancing nearly together. The group watches them move back to back, the redhead’s hair flashing coppery in the gym’s lights as he briefly drops it back onto Nakamura’s shoulder before spinning away, the team cheering them on and singing along with the song.

Ben’s eyes meet Laken’s. “Do you-... do you see-”

Laken looks away, shifting around, staring back down at the poster they’re working on alone now. “Yeah,” They say, voice slightly husky. “I see it.”

“But-”

“Let it go, Ben.”

“Laken, that’s Chris.”

“Holy shitballs,” Will says, “You’re right. It is Chris. Becka, fucking-... fucking pause next time they get his face on screen.”

“No worries, they’re almost done.” Becka blinks, puzzled, and the group watches Nakamura and the other boy do simultaneous flips across opposite sides of the mat, finish with a spin, and salute each other, before collapsing into laughter. “Does Chris do gymnastics?”

“No,” Laken says, before Ben can answer. He glances over at them and they shake their head, minutely, barely a motion.

The redhead starts to jump up and down, his hands flapping in the air, spinning in circles, as Nakamura laughs and runs over to him, saying something. The two high-five and hug before the redhead starts bouncing up and down again, clearly proud of himself, proud of Nakamura, just fucking thrilled.

“Laken-”

“I said let it go,” Laken snaps, and Ben’s mouth snaps shut.

Mari says, hesitantly, “Chris never said he did gymnastics.”

“Chris’s name isn’t Tristan fucking Higgs, either,” Will points out.

On the video, Nakamura’s voice is back. “We used to do that all the time. I’ve got about three more I’ll probably post. For the longest time I couldn’t even look at them, but… I don’t know. He was so fun. Rest in peace, man. We still miss you.”

“That can’t be him,” Will says, pulling his legs off of Mari’s lap and leaning over. Becka pauses with the screen stuck on the jumping, happy teenager, his hands blurred mid-motion. “That can’t be. Chris isn’t named Tristan.”

“He’s also not fucking dead,” Mari says, breathless. “But-”

“But it looks just like him, he even does the, the thing with his…” Will hesitantly flaps his hands by example. “When he’s happy. Just like that.”

“His hair’s red at the roots, too,” Brooke says, a little thoughtfully, nervously. “Um. Chris is adopted, right? Maybe…”

“Nobody changes a fucking teenager’s first name,” Will says, shaking his head. “I’ve met his brother, he wouldn’t do that. He’s like a giant teddy bear person. If Chris wanted the fucking Ritz that guy’d try and buy it for im. But, like, what do we know about Chris?”

“Not much,” Ben says, staring at the screen, stomach flipping. Ben knows more than anyone but Laken, thanks to Dylan being a fucking piece of shit about the pet thing. And he knows, he thinks, what he’s looking at now. “But-”

“I’m done with this,” Laken says abruptly, pushing themself to their feet. “You guys keep playing fucking detectives all you want, but that’s not Chris. I’m out.”

The group stares after them as they leave, and there’s a long, long moment of silence that draws awkwardly out, everyone trying to see if someone else will be the first person to speak next. 

“Um, I’m-... I’m gonna go talk to them,” Ben says, grabbing his book on the way out, catching Laken just outside the elevators. “Hey, wait-”

“No,” Laken says, hands in their pockets, jammed in there like they’re trying not to choke someone. “Go back in there, Ben.”

“That is Chris,” Ben says, soft and insistent. “That’s him before they-... before he was-”

Laken doesn’t answer him. Their jaw sets, and the black eyeliner seems to make them look flintier, hardened. “We don’t know that.”

“Yeah, Laken, we absolutely do. You telling me that smile isn’t one hundred percent your boyfriend’s smile? You going to tell me there’s some other identical fucking redhead who stims like that when he’s happy who was at a gym literally across town, whose friends from then think he’s fucking dead, and it’s not your fucking boyfriend, who was oh just coincidentally a pet for some rich asshole-”

“Don’t say it,” Laken snaps. “Don’t you fucking dare say it.”

“We should show him the video, Laken.”

“No.”

“What if it-... what if it helps-”

“What if it doesn’t?” The elevator dings and the doors open. Laken pushes away from Ben and steps inside, turning to stare at him, their expression baleful and oddly vulnerable, both at once. “What if it just makes shit worse for him? He’s-... he already has these nightmares… Don’t you think Chris has had a hard enough fucking time without us throwing that shit in his face, Ben? His past doesn’t belong to us.”

“Show his brother, then,” Ben says, and Laken looks away from him as the doors start to roll closed. “Show his brother, okay? Please? Promise you will, it might help Chris to see-”

Laken doesn’t look back up. The doors cut them off from view and Ben watches the floor count tick down as it moves, before he turns and goes back to his room, flopping bonelessly on the bed.

“God damn it.” 

That was definitely Christopher fucking Stanton in that video.

Wasn’t it?

Ben pulls his phone up, lying on his back, and types into the search bar, Tristan Higgs gymnast. Some old scores and meets come up, but no pictures. Nothing he can use. Then he deletes that search and types instead, Tristan Higgs death.

What pops up first is an old news article from fucking years ago about some kind of double-homicide after a break-in. Ben reads it, staring at the words, but something like dread slowly closes its claws over his heart.

The sole survivor of the attack was the couple’s fifteen-year-old son, Tristan, who has been placed in the care of relatives while law enforcement follows a series of tips…

Ben finds a Facebook page for the gym that was in the Nakamura video. Now that he’s started, he can’t stop. They have an Instagram, and he scrolls and scrolls and scrolls and scrolls. He must sit there for a goddamn hour looking at fucking gymnastics bullshit he doesn’t care about. But then he finds it-

Throwback Thursday: the whole crew has pizza at Vanni’s Pizzeria after a great meet back in 20XX!

There he is, right there towards the front with Nakamura’s arm around his shoulders, shorter and significantly more muscular, with a bit of red hair flopping over one eye.

Christopher fucking Stanton, smiling at something just to the left of the camera, just like Chris always does.

He screenshots the photo and sends it to Laken. They send back, pretty sure I told you to go fuck yourself Benji.

Ben waits. Thirty-five seconds after that, Laken sends another text.

Okay. I’ll show Jake.

Ben tells himself to close the apps. That he has reading to do, and other things to care about. Then he spends the next five hours learning everything he can about Tristan Higgs, anyway.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @orchidscript

[thewriterowl]

some headcanon about Luke childhood and adolescence on Tatooine?

Oh sure thing! Now, I’d definitely use a lot of what is talked about already.

Luke was sort of exiled from most people, especially any of those who are close to his age. 

Now, Tatooine is a hella lonely planet. I recently reblogged an amazing chart that has so many planets, their systems/rims, stats, etc. and it provides so much info. Like how it is estimated only around 200,000 people live on all of Tatooine. The clumps of population are sort of spread out and hopping from one town to the next is not just something you can just get up and do. So Luke has almost no opportunity to even find friends.

I pictures that Biggs actually didn’t like Luke at first when they were kids. That he followed the group and that his family maybe urged for him to stay away from that boy, something just wasn’t quite right to him. The Lars were a rather respectable sort but they were still...odd. His father Cliegg was a pretty good man who saved and married Shmi Skywalker after his wife died, and Shmi was a good soul too...but there were so many rumors about her and her son who she claimed did not have a father. The son that won a race, threw a lot into chaos, and disappeared with cloaked figures. Lars claims this boy is the son of the missing child of Shmi, who had died when all that dramatics happened in the Core Worlds.

It was just...odd. And Luke was odd. Yes, there have been kids born with blond-ish hair and blue eyes before...but the colors were always darker. Their eyes would be such dark blue that they probably could look brown in some light and usually when they reach the teenage years the hair was already starting to darken. It was just a sort of normal thing on the planet. Pretty much everyone grew up too. Even the most measly of slaves had to have girth and strength on them to be of any use on this planet.

Luke just was always slightly off. His hair remained this pretty gold, his eyes were such a strange hue of blue, his face never took on a tough or quite masculine appearance, and he was just small. He was lanky and awkward and just never jumped in height like most kids. He was pathetically weak looking which is enough for most to keep their distances because if you’re around someone weak you could get drug down too.

Then there was those weird things that happen around him. Creatures that normally stayed hidden in the depths of the Tatooine desert and never inched close to towns would be found skulking and whimpering around the Lars’ property, always clawing at the wall that surrounded Luke’s room. The kid always knew where to search for a new well. He could sense when a seller is not being quite honest. He picked up blaster shooting quicker than any other child and could always find his target.  He knew how to use a speeder masterfully when he was ten. Beru’s plants sprouted with Luke nearby and gave them vegetables even during the drier months. He could predict things. And, as a child, when he had his rare tantrums things seemed to move. Then there was the fact that mysterious old Ben could be seen, only just, in the background, watching over the kid.

So, yeah, Luke was not seen as a welcomed sort.

But he was so stubborn and so eager for attention and to make friends that Biggs had a hard time fighting him off. The kid just managed to always find him so he just sorta gave up. He wasn’t about to bash a kid built like a twig’s nose in. That wasn’t exactly honorable. And well...Luke is actually pretty fun. He was always excited to go on adventures. He said yes to most anything. He was up for any dare. No matter what happened, he would always smile about it, just happy to be included. Biggs found he had far more fun with this kid than most anyone else so he just took him under his wing. Biggs was probably one of the more popular guys growing up so a lot of people left Luke alone after that, just primarily ignoring him or a cruel name tossed his way and or there.

Luke got kidnapped at least once in “cannon” but I believe that the Hutts would’ve tried to get him for the slave market. Maybe he wouldn’t sell for too much on Tatooine but he was clearly growing up into something pretty and different and that could be a lot of credits for them. Obi-Wan put a stop to it the moment he realized Luke had their attention and no one looked for Luke after that.

He tried to run away once, because he just felt so drained and empty on Tatooine, but Owen found him and dragged him back and scolded him so bad that Luke’s early stages of guilt-complex really ignited. He didn’t mention leaving for a little while after that. But he clearly was desperate to leave.

Luke had a lot of weird dreams. Sometimes even when he was awake. He could see and hear things that were there but...not. Sometimes it was foggy and blurry but he could make out a tall man who blinked from human to a black mass, breathing like a monster. Sometimes it was a man with white robes and long hair and a beard who would smile at him and give him a pat on his head, his expression calm and knowing but always gentle and comfortable. Sometimes the man would blur and Luke could see a hole in his stomach. Sometimes he would see a tall woman who glowed and had glowing green hair who would hold him close, calling him the Light’s child. Other times there was this odd pull to...someone...his mirror. Not his reflection but...yet she, as he knew it was a she, was. This other part of him. And sometimes he swore she felt him right back. He could sometimes hear a little thrum, it sounded like someone like him, but maybe younger...or maybe older, asking for the dark to please leave. He could hear another boy, someone Luke was connected to in some way, full of so much anger and kindness as he donned himself in armor. And sometimes he saw a pale monster, cackling in the shadows, with glowing yellowed eyes and who felt like decay.

Most times, he just never felt quite alone. Like there was something, or multiple somethings, always there. This pull, this connection, to everything. When he focused on it too much it made him very tired so he didn’t do it too often.

He didn’t talk about these things to his family either. 

Luke asked about his parents a lot but his aunt and uncle always refused to tell him much. They claimed to only have a little information on his father and knew nothing of his mother. He never gave up, trying to get as many stories from them as possible but it was always the same four to five stories each time.

Luke felt, or at least believed he felt, that his parents did love him and didn’t abandon him. They just died, which was sad but quite normal on Tatooine. He still wished he could see their faces and hear their voices. He usually just called them Mother and Father in his head, as a slight way to detach himself from the pain, cause Luke would be the sort who would call them mommy and daddy when he was young and then mom and dad when he was older. Mother and Father was just this...title he had for two strangers he wished he knew.

Luke still loved them very much and liked to pretend they would show up on the doorstep one day and pull him into a hug, holding him tight, and promising to never leave him again. That they would all stay together.

Luke thrived off of fairy-tale like stories and could never get enough speed in his life. Politics were never something he understood. He had plans on joining the Imperial Academy the moment he was able to become a pilot and travel across the galaxy. He could probably earn credits and get his own place and maybe take care of his aunt and uncle. He often wondered if he could be a hero.

He caused mischief but mostly on accident. He did not need much to keep him occupied and Owen realized he was very good with building, taking care of, and communicating with droids than most.

When he was seventeen to eighteen, folks who were a lot older or a very unsavory would approach Owen to try and get a deal to marry Luke.  He was still small and lanky, but people were beginning to notice he was prettier than some girls. Even some from the Hutt’s circle came in with offers to marry Luke into their protection--he could even live at the palace. Owen always rejected every proposal and kept Luke even closer to home after that, rarely letting him leave unless he was with Biggs. After Biggs left, it was always a battle to let Luke leave the farm. It made Luke smothered and a bit exhausted and whiny. He was nearing twenty and he was still treated like this delicate child.

Luke did have a massive crush on Biggs but never acted on it. Other than that he was far more interested in other things. 

He was good in picking up most languages by ear, he seemed to know Binary from the start, but he could never do well with speaking. it always sounded awkward to him. Beru taught him to read and write and she found if Luke only had a few texts, after a few lessons he would start to pick things up. Before he leaves, he is fluent in understanding Basic, Binary, Huttese, Jawaese, and Tusken sign. He can’t speak a lick of anything outside of Basic. 

Luke was always very kind and apologetic to whoever he met. He always felt he was something wrong and broken and would try to not bother anyone if he could. If something happened he was quick to blame himself (picked up from a lot of his interaction with the people of Tatooine and, unintentionally, from his aunt and uncle who did appear fearful of him at times). He puts other people first and has a hard time seeing other having faults but rather he is so broken that he makes them have faults.

He loves sweets but for savory, his was a big fan of things like rice and bread (I swear, in a Modern AU Luke would almost live off of Japanese rice and would be someone who could actually cook it (cause i can’t and it breaks my heart) and could just eat it as is or he just has it as the foundation for every meal) with some vegetables. He did not grow up with seasoning so he has no idea how to really use it...but would grow to enjoy it after some time.

Luke loves anything dog-like. He probably won over some Tusken’s because their dogs adored Luke.

Luke is amazing at engineering...but ask him what 6+6 is and he’ll probably go blank. Don’t make the poor boy think. He runs on instinct and can easily short-circuit his brain if he tries to think about what he is doing (cause often he shouldn’t really know it as he wasn’t taught it, he just somehow knows what to do)

Just cause of how Tatooine is...it is possible Luke has rarely been hugged and potentially rarely told he was loved.

[beauregard-s]

Out of His League | Eddie Kaspbrak

Pairing: Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader (21+)

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: language, alcohol, fluff, protected sex!, oral (male receiving), slightly sub!Eddie? Kind of a comfort fic? Eddie going through a hard time

@buckybarton03 said: “ hey!! can i request adult eddie x reader she’s not in the losers club be he brings her with him to derry to meet everyone and he gets super jealous over how good richie & reader get along :)”

A/n: First, my infinite apologies because it took so so long! But here it is and I hope you like it <3

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“Richie, no!” At least three different voices shouted.

“Richie, yes!”

And, as he roared at the top of his lungs, Richie threw his head back and swallowed the third blow job shot in a roll as you grimaced at that in between your laugh. 

Yours and the whole table’s - Bill had snorted so hard he ended up spitting his drink. And, leaning against Eddie with his chin resting against your temple, you felt him chuckle. Not laugh. Chuckle.

Coming to Derry and meeting your boyfriend’s ride-or-die friends was scary in the beginning, sent you into a quiet anxiety spiral. You and Eddie met a year before and you never got the chance to personally get to know the famous Losers Club, the gang Eddie would always tell you about while nostalgically looking at the few childhood pictures he still had. You were not usually worried about what people would think about or if they’d like you, but when you found yourself flying over to Maine, you were pretty worried about your social skills. You just hoped you got along with them because if you didn’t you’d never forgive yourself.

You knew Eddie went through a lot during his life in that place and you also knew those six people were his real family, everything safe he had during those years of manipulation and abuse. If his friends didn’t like you, if something went wrong in any way... It’d break his heart. 

You were stepping on thin ice. Until you met them.

You understood Eddie’s awe and loyalty to them right away. They were welcoming, they were fun and indeed, all of them together felt like a big family that engulfed you in. You got along with each of them, even with Stan’s fiancée, Patty, but Richie was the one you clicked with immediately after he hugged you and asked you what bet did you lose to end up with Eddie.

And Eddie was in pure bliss through the week of your little vacation, happy all his favorite people were getting along so well, but you noticed something there. The way his mood slowly shrunk to the point he spent that whole Saturday quieter. You knew something was bothering him even if he was sitting so relaxed in the restaurant, his arm resting on your chair around your shoulders, smiling at Richie’s tommyrot. 

“Come on, y/n/n,” Richie coughed, choking due to the strong alcohol dose. “Drink a shot.”

“No way...” You shook your head immediately.

“Come on, y/n!” He whined. “Show us your skills!”

You lifted a brow at Richie’s devilish look, and Eddie exhaled a bit loudly by your side while Beverly went “beep beep Richie” mode in the background.

“The only one supposed to know my skills here is Eddie, Richie.”

There were a pair of whistles from across the table, maybe from Bill and Mike, and Richie raised his hands in rendition. 

“Hey, Haystack! You do it!”

You looked away from Richie now teasing Ben and pressuring the poor guy on drinking raw tequila shots, paying attention to Eddie. He was taking the last sip of his virgin peach cocktail - because he was the one driving and god forgive it if he drank before driving.

“You okay? Wanna another one?” 

He didn’t look at you, just shook his head.

“No, I’m good.”

“Really?”

That was your “I don’t believe in you, so I’m giving you a second chance to spill your tea” tone, and that made Eddie turn at you flashing a half-smile, thumb rubbing circles on your shoulder.

“Sure, babe.”

But of course he lied. He was, yes, dreary. So much he was silent through the whole way back to the hotel later and, when Bill and Stan wanted to stay outside for a while, enjoying the last hours they all had together before going to bed and flying back home in the morning, Eddie claimed he had a headache and a lot to pack and went straight upstairs the small hotel.

You knew his baggage was immaculate and ready by your bed. And he never had headaches.

His mother always claimed he was an ill boy, but, in fact, Eddie never got sick in any way, so it sent the red alert in your head and you followed him quietly through the way until you were safe and alone in your room.

“Eddie,” you cooed, locking the door behind you as he shrugged his jacket off, “are you telling me what’s wrong or…?”

He threw the garment over his suitcase in the corner, turning on his heels to face you.

“What? No, I’m okay! Really am.” He did it again, gave you that half-smile to try to mislead you away from the things he sometimes hid inside.

But you didn’t buy it. Leaned against the door, arms crossed in front of your chest. Locked eyes with him trying to find a gap, a minimal clue of what was going on, inevitably paying attention to his pink lips from your strawberry chapstick he’d borrow here and there.

“You are not.” 

Your unconscious pouting was enough to make him break.

It was sudden. How his shoulders dropped slightly and he sighed, rubbing his face in the frustration he knew well but he thought he had left behind.

“It’s just…” He muttered. “I’m jealous, you know?”

You pushed up from the door immediately, gaping slightly at his words but he was faster, raising a hand so you’d let him explain himself. 

“I’m not implying anything,” he smiled again, more truly this time, but sadder. “It’s just that…”

You perceived him struggling. He always struggled.

You remembered the day you met him. You were about to finish your internship in this huge company’s advertising department when you sat across this junior analyst guy during a meeting. Him. Eddie struggled all the time with his graphs, so nervous you could feel it from your seat. And when he looked up and saw you smiling at him, he froze for a second, growing ten times as nervous after that.

After he got to know who was the girl sitting in front of him at that table through two hours of pure boredness, it took him a whole month up the courage to ask you out. When he did, you smiled brightly and told him you were out at 6 pm next Friday. 

And he felt his anxiety lower, just like it did in that hotel room when he saw how worried you were.

“I’m…” he crinkled his nose because the words for what he was feeling would sound too ridiculous. “I’m just jealous, y/n.”

You frowned.

“Jealous?”

“Yes.”

“Of?...” You gave him the lead.

“You and Richie.”

Your gape grew. 

Eddie hummed frustratedly, miserably letting himself sink into the edge of the mattress. Its springs made this little sound that annoyed him because it implied how old that was and he wouldn’t stand thinking about the clean status of that thing.

“Eddie…” 

“No, I know nothing is going on, okay!” He said, looking at his feet. “I know there’s no real reason for feeling this way and that it’s just me being paranoid.”

“And do you wanna elaborate or…?” You encouraged him.

He wanted to because you were the one who managed to get him, to soothe him. But he didn’t know how to do it with proper words.

“You know what Richie’s about. All the stuff I told you, and the stuff you saw the last few days. He’s the funny and popular one. I love him, I really do, don’t get me wrong but it didn’t stop me from thinking he kinda overshadowed me through our high school years, through college.”

You nodded although he wasn’t looking at you at the moment. He was so troubled he didn’t see you stepping out of your boots and walking over to him, only noticing how close you were when your shadow covered him. 

“He always got more attention?” You said.

Eddie looked up, chuckling in embarrassment. “And the girls.”

You rolled your eyes and he groaned lowly in frustration. He held around your hips when you started running your fingers through his hair.

“You’re jealous because he keeps teasing me?”

“Yeah? Come on, you two look like you’ve been friends since ever,” his slightly more playful tone relaxed you. He was getting some relief by talking about it.

And indeed, you spent time with all the Losers but grew closer to Richie than the others for no special reasons. He’d pick on you, on Eddie. Would make great-horrible jokes and some great-great ones that got you laughing every time. It was simple affinity, but you could see where it stang on Eddie. 

So you dropped your hand to his face and tilted his chin up. He finally looked at you, resting against your ribs.

“You know there are no real reasons for that though, don’t you?” You said softly.

He pulled away and his eyes quickly glanced down over the tight blouse and the skirt hugging your hips. 

“To be honest, I do. You’re the hottest, smartest woman on earth and way out of his league…”

“Edward!” You slapped his shoulder softly.

But he was laughing, finally laughing. 

“You know it’s true and yeah, okay” he whispered, arms around your waist squeezing you tighter against him. “It’s just my fucking insecurity talking because I know you’re out of my league too.”

“I’m totally in your league…”

“Oh, tell me about it.”

Eddie was practical. Words didn’t have much effect on his uneasy mind, so you felt the need to show him what you meant and you did it by lowering down to settle on his lap.

You didn’t break your eyes from his nor even for a second while your arms embraced his neck.

“There’s no need for it all,” you pecked his lips once. “Because you’re the one I’m in love with.” You pecked him twice and the last one turned into a deep kiss.

You felt the strawberry chapstick flavor when you nip on his lips because you knew exactly what it did to him. How it made a low grunt raise from the deep of his throat and his hips buck up slightly. The same goes for his neck and how kissing down his adam’s apple makes him sigh.

“Y/n/n…” he breathes out.

“Shut up and let me take care of you,” you cut him off, your purred voice and hands pulling off his shirt making him surrender.

Pressing your chest on his made him fall back on the mattress and you laid on top. The way his cheeks were already flustered made you feel those renowned butterflies inside. That and his hands pulling your skirt up until it was rucked around your waist. Eddie still had a ghost of a grin on and you made it disappear under your hips grinding against his.

“No shit, babe…” he groaned alongside the little moan you let out, feeling his hardening cock rubbing against your clothed slit.

For each time you rolled your lips, still committed to the task of kissing his sweet spot, Eddie’s sounds escalated a tone. His fingers dig into your hips, pushing you down against him, whimpering you stopped and got off him. His lidded eyes watched you stripping, as his hand immediately went for his jeans, pushing them way so fast he got you chuckling. 

“Eager,” you teased. 

“This isn’t new,” he retorted, eyebrow raising slightly. 

But his attitude was washed away as soon as your skirt fell on the floor. Eddie wasn’t that much about lingerie, but you were wearing the laced set he gave you. 

That was an unfair game. And the way you kneeled on the floor in between his legs was the unfairest one.

He sat up when you mouthed his clothed length before tugging down the boxers, earning yourself a moan as soon as your lips brushed the sensitive tip. You smiled up at him, something between a cute and devious one that had him gasping for air even before you attached your lips to him, tasting his precum. 

An entire rope of curse came weakly from him, a hand of his going for your hair and pushing it back so he could see exactly what you were doing. You kept your eyes on his all the time, sucking him slowly, moaning and vibrating him. He was holding back, you felt he was, only brushing your hair when what he really wanted to do was wrap it around his hand and fuck your mouth. But he didn’t do that. 

You said you were the one taking care of him that night and he let you.

Let you wrap your lips around him and swirl your tongue, making him whine, twitch in need when you sucked bolder, pulling him out with a little ‘pop’. 

“Holy shit, y/n,” he panted.

“What, babe?” You pumped him through your pause. “Does it feel good?”

Eddie wasn’t able to stand up to the tease when you resumed blowing him. The way you dragged your tongue over the weak spot underneath his tip making his hips stutter and heat gather in there. 

You pulled away as soon as he started twitching harder, feeling your slickness in your underwear. You rose kissing the ‘v’ muscles of his hips, all the way up his chest while pulling his boxers down completely, straddling him again. 

Eddie immediately unclasped your bra and leaned into your chest, tracing the tip of his tongue around a nipple of yours before sucking it. His breath hitched when you cried out from that, doing it again and again, from a breast to the other, biting up your neck. 

“I wanna fuck you so much, love…” He looked at your heated face, swallowing dry to the words that slipped off. “Please…”

His little moment of weakness was enough for you to reach down and touch him again. “What do you want? Say it again.”

He panted under how soft you could sound even when you were making him beg like that, reaching down for his pants on the floor, shaking his wallet open with your free hand and grabbing a condom he had in it. Tearing it open with your teeth.

“I want to fuck you,” he whimpered at how you unrolled it on his cock and pumped him. “Please, babe…Oh, fuck!”

You had pulled your underwear aside, guiding him in.

“Do it then,” you tried to keep your voice steady.

And it wasn’t possible. 

Your demands turned into moans as he laid back, not even remembering about the noisy mattress. In fact, he liked the sound it made when you started to ride him. He liked how it joined your moans and his sharp breaths. 

And that beautiful pleasured face of yours on top of him…

He didn’t like it. He loved it. Kept watching you the whole time, how you bounced perfectly on him, feeling so wet. How you held onto his arms when he caressed your sides and cupped your breasts. You were both being loud, but who cared? He wanted to be loud as it was a way of showing who you belonged to at the end. And how he belonged to you, too.

He started to thrust up against you as soon and he felt the tightening sensation around him. You were close, so damn close feeling him hitting the soft spot inside you. Feeling him massaging your breasts like that, fucking so fast into you.

“Eddie…”

The way you came saying his name drove him straight through the edge with you. He gripped your waist tightly as he thrust sloppily through your high, the way you pulsed around him making him smirk. And, when you couldn’t stand anymore, Eddie pulled you down to lay down on him.

You gladly took the chance because you felt your whole body falling apart. Laid down on him and nuzzled into his neck, his chest wavering you up and down. His occasional pleasured humming here and there making you smile.

“Still jealous, honey?” 

If he had his eyes open, he’d have rolled them at your mocking tone. 

“Not that much,” he admitted.“I love you so much, y/n,” 

He whispered lazily, hand caressing the low of your back, a blissful smile on his lips you couldn’t see, but you could feel. 

The butterflied were there again.

“I know, and I love you too, Eddie.” You adjusted yourself slightly and he whined, still buried inside you. “Sorry,”

He chuckled. “Don’t be, just… Give me some time.”

“Yeah? Why?” You raised a brow. He chuckled.

“Because in round two I’ll be the one taking care of you.”

[strawberrysoup]

Let’s Review || Chapter 22

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-consensual&dark sexual situations, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat  additional warnings: open the read more, CTRL + F and search “content warnings” to skip to the additional "spoiler-y" tags for trigger warnings

hey guys! i made a ko-fi! if you enjoy this and have some cash you could spare to help me out with my bills, id really appreciate it! if you follow the link and check out the ‘posts’, there’s a snippet for ch. 4 of posies! 

Their parents had died a few months after her thirteenth birthday and Penny essentially blacked out for the next 8 months. She didn’t remember anything from that school year, although she’d evidently scraped by in all of her classes—actually, Penny was still convinced that little Peter, who was already showing signs of being a tiny genius, had done at least half of her homework. She didn’t remember Hanukkah that year, or the first Christmas she’d ever celebrated with Aunt May and Uncle Ben. She had zero friends coming out of that year, having accidentally pushed everyone away in fits of rage or sadness that she couldn’t even remember. The pain cut just as deep every time she remembered showing up to school the first day of her freshman year only to receive the cold shoulder from half her grade.

That was actually one of the first memories she’d retained after coming out of 7 months and 3 weeks of complete emptiness, how none of her best friends wanted anything to do with her. Everything had been confusing, somehow devastating all over again but… it was less. Her parents were gone and it hurt so much but it was nothing compared to the agony that had beset her form seconds after being informed her mom and dad were dead. When Penny racked her brain she could almost remember Aunt May crouched in front of her while she sat on the couch at home, holding her hands.

Somewhere in her brain, Penny had known that plane crashes were possible. Like, as a concept she understood the idea. The plane that was flying through the air stops doing that, and all the people inside the plane die. But it couldn’t possibly happen to her parents—they were her parents, they were infallible. Plane crashes happened, yeah, but her parents couldn’t be gone. Aunt May had told her several years later that she and Ben had been petrified she would try to kill herself, especially when the state tried to take the young girl away from the Parker’s.

They’d never had the money for therapy and Penny figured she’d never regain the memories from those months but honestly, she didn’t want them. The gaps were reprieves, the missing conversations, the absence of any and all detail. Wasn’t she sad to not remember her eighth-grade graduation? Fuck no, it was a blessing to forget how she’d felt like everyone in existence had their eyes on her—except for the ones she wanted.

There were times she absently wondered how disappointed her parents would be that she didn’t finish college, let alone get an actual high school degree. Her dad had been so smart, a genius in his own right. And her mom… Penny tried not to think of her mom often, not when it hurt so deeply. Mary Parker had been a gentle soul with an IQ of 150 who made Penny feel safe and loved and understood every day of her life. Her mother would’ve been understanding, she would’ve seen the necessity in her dropping out but it would’ve hurt that gentle soul to know the opportunities her baby had missed.

It hurt Penny in a special way that neither of Mary and Richard Parker’s children would be graduating from high school. Neither would attend university. They wouldn’t go on to press the limits of their parent’s knowledge or make an impact on the world. Somehow despite everything she’d sacrificed, Peter would never get the opportunity that he deserved. Her genius baby brother, his potential capped before he had a chance to try. God, it was an agonizing burn in her chest, a searing pain that made her nauseous and light-headed.

Her heart was pounding so hard she wondered if her ribs would crack. The cabin was lovely. Dark wood and an A-frame, a nice deck in the back and lots of windows. It was surrounded by trees, with dark needles or thin pale trunks, the purple mountains of the Rockies a lovely backdrop. It was colder than she’d expect for summer, especially considering the overcast sky and the breeze. The clouds moved so fast at such a high altitude and Penny watched trembling as a shadow passed over the house, chasing the light away before the sun followed its path ravenously once more.

Steve and Bucky were unloading suitcases from the back of the SUV, passing each other calculating looks as Penny stood practically frozen in place. Her shoulders were hunched almost to her ears, arms wrapped gently but tightly around the white kitten in her arms. It was purring quietly, the same way it had been for hours now. The little thing had cried the first few hours after they’d left the tower and subsequently the chubby cheeked orange kitten behind, only settling when Penny laid down across the middle seat in the SUV and let it burrow into the crook of her neck.

If Penny turned around she would’ve recognized the mournful looks on their faces, the pain in the lines of their eyes. The soldiers knew the hurt she felt, to be separated from their most important person—they understood that Peter was the most important person in Penny’s world. This separation was on their heads, but what could they do? They’d worked themselves into a rut, the three of them, wearing such deep treads into their negative behaviors that they couldn’t climb out. A complete shakeup was the only solution.

Both winced when she abruptly folded at the waist, clutching the kitten to her chest, and vomited over the pine needle strewn dirt of the driveway. Her hair fell in heavy, curly curtains around her face as she heaved again, hiding her tear-streaked face from the soldiers’ view. The sound of them setting the bags they held down registered in Penny’s ears but she couldn’t find the strength to collect herself before they converged on her.

“Come ‘ere doll, lemme take you up to the bathroom,” Bucky stated quietly, sweeping her and the cat up into his arms as gently as he could, “you can take a bath while me and Steve get everything unloaded. I think you’ll really like the cabin baby, we… well, we designed it just for you. If there’s anything you want to change, you just tell us. We want it to be perfect for you.”

She mostly caught flashes of green and white and brown, tucking her chin to look at the kitten snuggled into her cleavage. It felt cruel, to have taken the white one and left the orange, but the little chubby-cheeked kitten had taken to her brother so well—better than it had taken to her, even. Peter had named it Malcah and while it still didn’t like being picked up or held, it twined his ankles and meowed at him for love.

“Sit here baby,” the soldier set her carefully on the lid of the toilet, after having climbed a set of stairs and turned multiple blurry corners, “let me run your bath.”

It was all white tile, the toilet built into the wall. The tub was a freestanding clawfoot, with a spray nozzle and high sides. It was surprisingly small, considering how large the tub in the tower had been. Penny idly speculated that only perhaps one of the soldiers would be able to fit at time and it would certainly be a tight squeeze if she was forced in with them. There was a standing shower on the other side, where the roof wasn’t so sharply sloped by the A-framed roof. The nice thing, that Penny would never admit was very nice, was all of the plants. The entire room was predominantly white but there was a long-vined philodendron hanging gracefully over the tub, snake plants sitting on the shelf before the toilet. She could see a rubber plant and another type of vine by the sinks, framing the mirror.

They’d obviously gone to great lengths to make sure it would be something she liked, clearly evidenced by the bathroom alone. There were even candles waiting to be used on the antique, hunter green shelves and bath bombs with lovely scents. If she’d been able to design a personal bathroom, Penny figured it would probably have looked something like this and that made her hate it all the more.

The bastards were so in their heads they could barely see the sunlight. Penny was convinced that they were so distracted orchestrating her nightmare they’d lost the plot. They kept throwing stuff at her; beautiful plants, nice clothing, cute cats, lovely homes—but it didn’t mean a single thing. All of the possessions in the world didn’t make up for the gaping, rotting hole in her chest.

“Alright doll, let’s get you undressed,” Bucky shifted towards her once the water was at the right temperature and filling the tub, a small smile on his stubbled face.

“Do you think I’m debilitated?” She rasped after a moment, rolling her eyes up to stare him in the face before spitting a vomit speckled wad of phlegm onto the rug by her feet and setting the kitten on the shelf next to the snake plants. “Last time I checked I didn’t need to be treated like a baby. Are you gonna keep standing over me like a pervert? Get out.”

The soldier’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, surprised by the calmness behind her cutting tongue. Usually, when Penny got an attitude, it came with fury and fists and resulted in broken bones or bleeding wounds. This was overwhelmingly controlled; a bitchy rebuttal. Her voice was the gravelly tone she usually got after screaming or crying, dark brown eyes nearly black.  When he didn’t move, Penny rolled her eyes and stood, whipping her t-shirt over her head and dropping it to the ground.

“You’re bein’ a little moody, babe,” Bucky watched calmly as she undressed, her clothes piling up on the floor. “Wanna think about reigning it in?”

Penny’s hair was big and curly around her face, framing the clenched jaw and sneering nose. “What are you gonna do, kill me? Whatever.”

“Penny, what—”

“Peter is a thousand miles away,” Penny’s voice started out sharp but very quickly faded into a tired drawl, “you can’t hurt him from here. And what do I care if you hurt me? So could you either get the fuck out and let me take a bath or fucking drown me in it? Whatever it takes for this interaction to be over.”  

“Are you looking for a punishment right now?” Bucky’s lips pulled down at the corners, eyebrows furrowing, “‘Cause you’re working your way towards one really quick.”

“What’re you gonna do? Kill someone in front of me?” She groaned, reaching up to dig her fingers into the roots of her hair, tugging sharply before dragging it into a tangled, thoughtless bun on the top of her head “Or spank me until I can’t sit? Rape me? Could you just get it over with? I want to be alone, please!”

Bucky was silent for several long seconds before sighing through his nose, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows. “Take your bath, think about your fuckin’ attitude. Steve and I are gonna bring the bags in.”

He left the door open and Penny was further irritated to learn he had too much dignity to stomp down the stairs the way she’d hoped he would. His break in composure had been so good for her it was unbelievable—but there was likely a punishment on the horizon and Steve wasn’t likely to let her off easy once the brunet told him what she’d said. The bastard was stone cold when it came to that shit.

She stared idly at the steaming bath, naked with her clothes piled around her feet—the question was whether she wanted a bath or if she’d been resigned to it? The water was scented, because of course it was. It was even one of her favorite citrusy scents, she noted disdainfully, another thing they had paid so much attention to while keeping her locked up in a tower like fucking Rapunzel. Now in a cabin, she figured she was a Jewish Goldilocks surrounded by hungry bears.

But it smelled nice and her body ached from the long car ride, it had already been run so why not hop in? Besides, it would keep her busy while the soldier’s fucked around and she wouldn’t have to see them for a bit. They were shuffling around and she could hear the sounds of bags being placed around the cabin. The door banged off the walls several times, always accompanied by a groan or a curse, one of which she recognized as a Yiddish swear—which she refused to find endearing. The kitten meowed at her from its position on the shelf, looking put out to be so far away but Penny shushed it quietly.

“You won’t like the water, just stay there,” she murmured quietly at the distraught little creature, picking up a washcloth and dunking it into the perfumed water. “If I come get you I’ll make a huge mess.”

She ignored the kitten as it continued to communicate with her, chittering in annoyance and pawing the edge of the ledge for several minutes before evidently surrendering and lying down with its little paws draped over the edge. Penny smiled to herself, the cat’s tail was roughly the size of its body and when it curled the fluffy mass of fur around itself it became unrecognizable as a cat. The orange one would’ve continued to complain until Penny let it down, would’ve just barely given her ankles a rub before running off to hide somewhere.

That’s why she decided to leave Malcah with Peter; the orange cat didn’t run from or scratch him. She twined his ankles, sat next to his thigh on the couch, kneaded her little paws against him. Peter had decided both kittens were female, based on the very reasonable basis that he wanted them to be. Penny wasn’t sure, didn’t quite care. The only thing she ever referred to the cats as was Chatul—which literally meant cat in Hebrew. She’d shortened it to Tuly for the white kitten, for the sake of ease, but refused to say it in front of the soldiers. The cat was hers, she didn’t have to share it with them.

The sounds of the soldiers were becoming more consistent throughout the cabin and Penny figured they must’ve brought in all of the bags and were focused on unpacking. She could hear someone down in the kitchen, unloading the masses of groceries they’d brought up the mountain while the other was in the bedroom. Penny rubbed the washcloth over her skin lightly, the oils from the fragrance making her skin soft and slippery.

She didn’t hear him come in, she felt Steve come in. The blond’s presence was just as overwhelming as Tony Stark’s, an aura bigger than his body that filled the room. She could feel the disappointed stare, even as she continued to wipe herself down with the washcloth. Her teeth ground together as he watched in silence, just waiting.

“Bucky said you’ve caught an attitude, baby doll.”

“Caught an attitude?” She rolled her eyes. “Wow, if only I hadn’t become desensitized to living in constant terror—you never would’ve realized I’ve had an attitude the whole time!”

“We’re supposed to be turning a new page, Pen.”

“Turning a—” Penny scoffed, face appalled as she abruptly stood from the bath and ignored the water going everywhere, “we’re not turning a new page—You burnt the fucking book!”

The blond’s eyes widened; Penny had gotten angry in the past, furious even. She’d broken things, broken skin, broken bones and it was always accompanied by outraged screaming. But Penny didn’t make unnervingly straight eye contact while she did it. She was barely coherent at the best of times, mostly she screamed to the room at large before flying into a violent frenzy—it was different. It was startling, the light in her eyes and the way her voice cracked.

“There is no page turning, there’s no fucking­—fucking reconciliation here, Steve,” she snatched a towel from the rack behind the tub, wrapping the light green fabric around her chest tightly, “I can’t believe after, fuck, how long has it been? A month and a half? Two months? What fucking day is it?”

“…It’s July 2nd,” he found himself choking out, still feeling shell shocked as she stepped out of the tub.

“A month and a half,” Penny’s face twitched, just barely concealing the distraught look he could see she wanted to make and she started shifting past him, “Jesus Christ after a month and a half you guys still don’t get it—you know what, never mind. After a month and a half, I should’ve been smart enough to realize what dumbasses you both are.”

“Penny—”

“God, fuck!” She shouted up at the ceiling, stopping in place halfway out the door. “I have listened to you two talk at length for what’s apparently been a month and a half! I have tried to listen to your stupid fucking rules, I put in the fucking effort and you still decided to take away the one thing I care about! I’m sick and tired of you saying my name in that fucking tone, I’m tired of constantly internalizing and I’m tired of being fucking walked on! So I’ll tell you what I told Bucky—either kill me or leave me alone, but for fucks’ sake just give me space!”

A low mew followed her statement and Penny made an abrupt about face, stomping past him to snatch up the kitten from where it had been sitting on the ledge and storming past him again. It was like getting brushed by a wildfire and Steve fought the urge to take a step back when her wet hair whipped against him.

She dug through one of the bags that held her belongings angrily, kitten on her shoulder, knowing that the blond continued to watch her from the bathroom doorway. Shorts, underwear, a sports bra, a t-shirt, and a hoodie over that. She would’ve put on socks but she knew it bothered Steve when she went barefoot.

“Come downstairs, precious,” he sighed after watching her dress, gesturing towards the stairs, “we’ve got to talk.”

“We’ve always got to talk,” Penny snorted derisively but started down the stairs anyway, Tuly back in her arms, “but it’s usually just you two telling me what I can and can’t do. Stop bossing me around.”

Steve followed after her, aghast and confused—Penny had always been brave in the situations she was forced into, whether it was taking custody of her fourteen year old brother or dealing with being kidnapped from her apartment by a billionaire criminal, but she hadn’t ever antagonized before. She’d talked back, got irritated, snapped, but she hadn’t ever just been flat out bitchy.

On the main floor, Bucky had already put away all of the groceries and was folding up the cloth shopping bags to tuck away for next time. The brunet’s eyes locked on Penny for several long calculating seconds and her hackles raised; whatever was coming was going to be annoying. She refused to be afraid though, not when there wasn’t anything to lose. Not anymore.

“Sit on the couch, let’s talk,” Steve directed, watching as she seemed to contemplate following the direction before doing so, “things are obviously going to be different here, precious.”

“The cabin is equipped with the same AI as the tower but its restricted to monitoring and safety protocols,” Bucky explained, gesturing to the open layout of the main floor, “you’ll be able to go outside so long as you ask first, there’s plenty to do out there. When Steve bought it there was an overgrown vegetable garden out there, we had it cleaned up for you and the shed fixed up and stocked. A lot of good hiking around here too.”

“I can’t talk to JARVIS?” She asked, eyes tracking the way the soldier’s exchanged glances. “Of course not. Then I would have some sort of interaction beyond the pair of you. Damaging to your plan, huh?”

“Penny, the rules didn’t end just because we’re out of the tower,” Steve had one hand braced on his hip while the other rubbed over his forehead, “be—”

“If you say Be Sweet I’ll find a way to kill myself,” Penny intoned, a dry look on her face. “Jews don’t have an afterlife you know, I’m not afraid of going to Hell.”

“Penny, we’re trying—”

“Penny we’re trying,” she mocked in a high-pitched voice, dead eye stare once again boring into Bucky’s, “I’m not. I’m done trying. You’ll either kill me or drive me insane, I’ll never see Peter again—I…I failed. I couldn’t protect him, I couldn’t even keep him safe until he was an adult, isn’t that insane? Grand total of three years and some change and I fucked it up.”

Penny stood up from the couch, shaking her head as she went. The kitten was quick to jump off the couch and follow after her, meowing while that massive fluffy squirrel tail curled over its back. The open floor plan of the cabin came in handy for the soldiers though, because she couldn’t really escape even as she walked across the living room and into the kitchen.

It was hard to pretend she didn’t actually love the cabin. The kitchen was small, located beneath the loft that held the bedroom and bathroom. The railing to the loft was covered in live vines that hung down to create a tiny illusion of separation between the living room and kitchen, the kitchen itself was sage green with white and dark brown accents. There were more plants, open cabinets mounted to the walls, the sink was small but there was a dishwasher. She loved the spiral staircase that led up to the loft, framing the kitchen to the left with small shiny baubles hanging from it.

There was a hamsa and a cross, both stained glass and hanging from the tallest step. Pretty cat toys hung from the lower railings, just within the kitten’s reach. It made Penny’s skin itch, just how lovely and perfect the whole cabin was. More evidence that they were paying a freaky amount of attention to her and every move she made.

“You didn’t fail, doll,” Bucky’s tone was quiet and he hesitated for a moment before following after her several paces, ending up on the edge of the kitchen, “You didn’t fuck it up, Peter—”

“Peter is trapped in a prison in New York with a creep more than twice his age who wants to violate and brainwash him,” Penny was on her knees in front of the fridge, digging through the crisper drawer in the bottom. “Literally all I had to do to prevent that from happening was pay more attention to his daily life. Fuck, kid was practically raising himself with how often I was gone—never stood a chance, you know?”

“Don’t think like that Penny,” Steve sighed, leaning down to pick up the kitten that had circled back to his ankles and setting it on his shoulder, “there’s nothing you could’ve done. You know who Tony Stark is, you know what he’s capable of. You can’t heap that guilt on your shoulders.”

“Oh, can’t I?” She hummed, absently throwing a package of bacon onto the floor, followed by a flat of raw chicken and beef. “There can be dairy in here or there can be meat, not both.”

“We might need a second fridge,” Bucky observed quietly, watching Penny drop a couple of deli bags with sandwich meat onto the ground before she started shuffling everything into different places within the cooler. “We could keep it in the shed?”

“No room,” Steve shook his head absently, “garage?”

Penny had collected a stack of items from the fridge and piled them onto the counter, not even bothering to look back on the soldiers as she began puttering around. The open-faced cabinets on the walls held mostly dishes and containers filled with ingredients and she ducked down, opening the lower cabinets and digging out several pans.

“Do you… do you want a hand, doll?” Bucky asked hesitantly after several moments, watching her collect ingredients and tools and turn on the stove.

“No.”

“Penny—”

“Can I make lunch please?” She whipped around, an irritated look on her face and a spatula in hand, looking like she was about to use it to beat them both, “I’m hungry and I want to die, I figure you’ll only allow me to fulfill one of those wants so can you let me cook?”

The next thing she knew, Penny had been swept up into Bucky’s arms. The solider looked confused, lips curled in frustration but his brow furrowed with dismay. She stiffened at the action when he stomped back to the couch and sat down roughly, dropping her over his knees and landing a smarting blow to her ass through her shorts without warning.

“Thirty for this fucking attitude,” he barked, yanking the shorts down until the waistband settled under the curve of her ass against the tops of her thighs, “count.”

A sharp inhale followed the first skin to skin hit and Penny snarled in response, “one.”

“Apologize,” Steve’s fingers tangled into her hair, extracting the hair tie and letting the curls fall in chaotic waves over her shoulders and face.

“Two,” she counted dutifully and angrily, narrowed eyes landing on Steve’s face, “I’m sorry you’re a fucking monster!”

“That just added ten more, Penny,” Bucky sighed through gritted teeth, “you better reign it in.”

“You better just kill me,” she rasped, nails digging into his leg where she was holding on for balance through the hits, “because I won’t reign it in. I’m sick to death of you motherfuckers—Oh, fuck, three!”

“No cursing during punishments, start from one,” Steve ordered darkly, the hand in her hair pulling taught as he glanced into Bucky’s eyes—the baffling combination of anger and dismay and loss in the brunet’s eyes let him know he wasn’t the only one scrambling.

“Fuck you!” Penny shook her head roughly as if to dislodge his hand, canting her head to the side the best she could manage to look him in the eye, “beat me black and blue, I don’t fucking care. Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter anymore! Nothing fucking matters.”

content warnings: spanking *edit, addition content warning: disrespectful terminology for Jewish people 

[massivedrickhead]

Could you do a prompt where Beca is burnt out from working so hard at record company or something and Chloe takes care of her and is all soft??

This is 10000% up my alley, thank you for sending this prompt :)

----

It was 10 pm when Chloe was startled awake by the sound of the front door closing.

A textbook for veterinary school was lying open against her chest, and there was a crick in her neck from falling asleep on the sofa.

“Bec?” She said, rubbing her eyes and putting the book on the coffee table. “Is that you?”

Beca gave a grunt in response and dropped onto the sofa next to her.

“Why are you still up?” Beca mumbled, immediately resting her head in Chloe’s lap and closing her eyes.

“I was waiting up for you,” Chloe said, running her hand through Beca’s hair.

“M’sorry,” she breathed out.

“That’s okay,” Chloe replied. “You want something to eat? I made dinner, I can go reheat it for you.”

Beca opened her eyes. “What did you make?”

Chloe smiled, “Mac and cheese. You want some?”

Beca nodded and, with great effort, lifted herself up from Chloe’s lap.

“So how was work?” Chloe asked from the kitchen.

“Busy,” Beca said, now resting her head in her hands, her elbows digging into her thighs. “Long.”

Chloe brought Beca’s food through and sat beside her on the sofa, rubbing circles on her back as she ate.

“You look tired, baby,” Chloe said.

“Thanks,” Beca said with a laugh. She ate the food quickly, and Chloe wondered if she’d stopped to eat all day. “What time is it?”

“About 10:30,” Chloe replied. 

Beca groaned. 

“What?”

“They want me back in at 7,” she said, rubbing at her eyes.

“Seriously?” Chloe asked, her voice soft but disappointed. “Bec, it’s Saturday tomorrow. You’ve done like 16 hour days every day for the last like two weeks.”

“I know that,” Beca said. “But it’s my job.” She knew Chloe wanted to say more, but she didn’t have the energy for a fight. “Please, Chlo’. Not tonight? I’m just… I don’t wanna fight. I don’t feel good.”

“What’s wrong?” Chloe asked, biting her bottom lip.

“I dunno. Tired, headache, stomach ache. Everything is kinda hurting,” Beca said.

“Are you getting sick?” Chloe asked, holding her hand against Beca’s forehead.

“I don’t think so,” Beca said, stifling a yawn. “I don’t know. Can we just go to bed?”

“Okay,” Chloe said, pushing down her worry. “But if you still feel bad in the morning, you’re staying off work.”

“I can’t do that,” Beca said, wincing slightly as Chloe helped her stand.

“I’ll call and yell at Theo if I have to,” Chloe said.

“Don’t yell at Theo,” Beca said, changing out of her work clothes and into a baggy t-shirt. “He’s already terrified of you.”

“He should be,” Chloe said. “Can I get you anything?”

Beca shook her head, and Chloe climbed into the bed beside her.

“I just worry about you, you know?”

Beca didn’t reply because she’d already fallen asleep.

Chloe pressed a kiss to her forehead, and fell asleep quickly.

She felt like she’d only been asleep for seconds when the ringing of Beca’s phone woke her up. It was 11:45 pm.

Beca was still dead to the world, so Chloe picked the phone up from her nightstand and hurried out into the hall with it. 

At the sight of Theo’s name on the call screen, her exhaustion turned to anger quickly.

“Hello, Beca’s phone?” She said, fighting to keep her voice quiet so she didn’t wake her fiancé.

“Hey Chloe, is she there?” Theo asked. He sounded tired too, and she could hear voices talking in the background.

“She’s sleeping, what’s wrong?”

“We need her back here,” he said, stifling a yawn. “The vocals she did earlier didn’t save, we need her to come back in and re-do them.”

“No,” Chloe said.

“… I’m sorry?”

“I said no. She’s sleeping. It’s 11:45 pm on a Friday night, and she’s probably only been asleep for about an hour. I’m not waking her up so she can drag herself to the studio and record some vocals that we both know won’t be useful because of how damn tired and run-down she is,” Chloe snapped. She knew her voice was getting louder, so she stepped further away from the bedroom.

She heard Theo sigh. “Chloe, this is her job, okay?”

“I know that. But she’s barely slept for more than a few hours for the last three weeks. She hasn’t had a single day off. She’s-” her voice caught in her throat. She forced herself to take a breath, pushing away the urge to cry. “You have her back in like 7 hours. Let her rest, please.”

“She knew what she was signing up for,” Theo said, sounding frustrated and exhausted. “She knew this would be hard work.”

“I’m not waking her up,” Chloe said.

“What’s going on?” Beca asked from behind her, her voice thick with sleep. “Is that my phone?”

“Go back to bed, Becs. I’m dealing with it,” Chloe said, her heart breaking at the sight of her. 

“Put her on the phone, please!” Theo said, his voice carrying over to Beca.

Beca sighed and held out her hand. “You should have woken me,” she said.

Chloe let out a groan of frustration and handed the phone over. “Please, baby, you need rest.”

Beca gave her a shrug and took the phone. “What’s up?” 

“Beca,” Theo said, sounding relieved. “We need you to come in and re-do those vocals.”

“Dude,” Beca said, groaning. “Can this seriously not wait until morning?”

“We’re all here waiting on those vocals,” Theo said. Beca could tell he was clenching his jaw like he always did when he was stressed. “This whole team is now at a standstill because we’re waiting on you.”

“Why did you even let me go home?” Beca asked, annoyed as she walked back into the bedroom. She began pulling clothes out of her wardrobe, the phone balanced in the crook of her neck as she dressed.

“Look, just come in for a few hours and take tomorrow off, how about that?”

“Is that a real offer, Theo?” Beca asked, skeptical. “Because you’ve been offering me days off for weeks now.”

“I promise. Once we get those vocals down, this track is as good as finished, and then the album is done, okay?” Theo said. 

“Fine,” Beca said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She hung up and tossed her phone onto the bed, and began pulling on the remainder of her clothes.

“Bec,” Chloe said, standing in the door way. “Please don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, Chlo’. Just a few hours, okay? I’ll be back before you even wake up,” Beca said, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

“I’m worried about you,” Chloe said. 

“I’m fine,” Beca said, kissing her on the cheek. “Go back to bed, I’ll be home soon.”

Chloe felt helpless as she watched Beca close their front door behind her.

Beca’s eyes itched with tiredness as she made the thirty minute drive to work. She didn’t know if she’d ever been this tired before.

Her head was pounding, and her hands were shaking slightly on the wheel. 

By the time she pulled into the deserted parking lot, she was starting to feel really rough. The pain in her stomach was nagging her, and she felt like her nerves were fried and frazzled.

“Good, you’re here. You want some coffee?” Theo asked as she walked into the studio.

“No,” Beca said, rubbing at her forehead. “I want to get this done so I can go home and sleep.”

“We all want the same thing,” he said. 

Beca looked around at the other people in the room and saw her own exhaustion reflected back. She felt for them. At least she’d been able to go home and eat and get a little bit of sleep.

“Okay,” Theo said, “we need the bridge and the last chorus. So whenever you’re ready.” He gestured to the booth.

“Give me a sec,” Beca said, taking a drink of water, trying to shift the throbbing in her head. “Why isn’t, uh, Ben Dover here?”

“Ben Rover,” Theo corrected. 

“Ben Dover’s a much better stage name. This is his track, his album, why isn’t he here?”

“Because it’s after midnight on a Friday and he’s a pop star,” Theo said.

“Oh so he gets a social life? Must be nice,” Beca said, drinking the remainder of her water. “Come on then, let’s get this done.”

As she stood, she felt the ground shift beneath her, and she had to grab onto the back of a chair to steady herself. 

“Beca?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Beca said, her voice shaking slightly. “Stood up too quick.”

She waited for the black spots in her vision to fade away, her hands gripping the chair.

“Sit down,” someone said.

“I’m fine,” Beca said, squeezing her eyes shut. She blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision.

“Seriously, Beca, sit down,” Theo said. He pushed another chair behind her, catching her in the back of the legs, causing them to buckle. “Take a minute. You want something to eat?”

Beca shook her head, feeling embarrassed as she rested her head in her hands. She was hoping the pain in her head and the nausea would pass soon. 

“Theo, can’t we just do this tomorrow man?” One of the interns asked. 

“We’re so close, guys,” he said, sounding exasperated. “You’ve all worked so hard, I know that. But we’re so close. This album is going to be huge for all of us, and we’re one little push away from it being done. Just think how good-”

His motivational speech was cut off by gasps as Beca slumped forward, falling out of her chair, and collapsing on the ground.

——

For the second time that night, Chloe was woken up by the sound of a phone ringing.

Theo was calling her.

“What happened?” Chloe asked, suddenly wide-awake.

“She’s fine,” Theo said, sounding apprehensive. “She just, uh, passed out, I guess?”

“She what?!” 

“It’s been a long night for everyone, she’s been working really hard-”

“Don’t give me that,” Chloe snapped. “I know she’s been working hard. Is she okay? Have you called an ambulance?”

“She’s fine, Chloe. She doesn’t want an ambulance,” Theo said. 

“Put her on.”

She heard him sigh and say. “She wants to talk to you.”

“Hey baby,” Beca said. Her voice was barely there, but Chloe could hear the smile in it.

Whatever Chloe had planned to say didn’t come out, and instead she just burst into tears.

“Hey,” Beca said, softly. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I was out for like 10 seconds, tops. Didn’t even bump my head.”

“I’m coming to get you,” Chloe choked out. “And we’ll go to the hospital and get you checked out.”

“I’m fine, Chloe, I don’t need to go to the hospital. Theo’s called me an Uber, I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Chloe said, her voice shaking as she tried to hold back her tears. “Put him back on the phone please.”

“Please don’t yell at my boss,” Beca groaned, handing the phone over.

“I second what Beca just said,” Theo said, bracing himself.

“She has the weekend off,” Chloe said. It wasn’t a question. 

“Chloe-”

“She has the weekend off. The whole weekend. When she gets home, her phone is getting switched off. She won’t be checking any emails, she won’t be taking any calls. At 8 am on Monday, you can have her back,” Chloe said, her voice calm but terrifying.

“The album-”

“-Can wait. I’m sure the artist will understand. It would be really bad for their publicity if, I don’t know, it was posted on social media that the label worked the artist’s producer passed the point of exhaustion, wouldn’t it? I mean, the artist would have to take a stand about that, right? The label would have to take a stand. People might lose their jobs.”

She heard Theo sigh. “Okay. You’ve made your point,” he said. “Beca can have the weekend off. Everyone can.” Chloe heard cheering in the background. “I… I didn’t mean for this to happen. I respect Beca a lot. She’s seriously talented, and she works really hard. I want her to do well. She is all over this album, Chloe. You can hear her in every song, not just her voice. This is gonna be big for her.”

“It’s not worth her health though,” Chloe said, softening slightly. 

“No,” he said. “It’s not. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

“Thank you,” Chloe said. “Is she on her way home?”

“Yeah, one of the interns just loaded her into an Uber. She’ll be with you soon.”

“Good,” Chloe said. “Goodnight Theo.”

“Goodnight.”

Chloe paced while she waited for Beca to get home. She wouldn’t believe that Beca was alright until she saw her.

When she heard Beca’s keys in the door, she froze, waiting in the hallway, desperate to see her.

“Hey,” Beca said, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. 

Chloe practically ran towards her, and cupped her face in her hands.

“You look like shit,” she said, taking in Beca’s pale skin and tired red-rimmed eyes.

“Thank you,” Beca said, before sinking into Chloe’s arms.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” Chloe said, gripping her tightly, tears streaming down her face.

“I won’t,” Beca said, her face buried in the crook of Chloe’s neck.

“What do you need?” Chloe asked, looking over her again as their hug ended.

“Bed,” Beca said. “Sleep.”

“Come on then,” Chloe said, half-carrying her to the bedroom.

She sat Beca on the bed and eased the jacket from her shoulders. Beca tried feebly to kick off her shoes, but couldn’t quite manage it. “I can’t do it. I’m so tired,” Beca groaned, tears pricking her eyes now.

“I’ll take care of it,” Chloe said, kissing her on the forehead.

She pulled off Beca’s shoes and helped her out of her jeans while Beca removed her own shirt and bra. Chloe grabbed a baggy t-shirt and slipped it over Beca’s head, helping her thread her arms through the sleeves.

Beca managed to crawl up the bed, and Chloe got in beside her, pulling her close and covering them both with their duvet.

“I love you so much Beca Mitchell,” Chloe said kissing the top of her head.

“Love you too,” Beca mumbled. “Can you do that thing…” She trailed off, pointing at her own head.

“Sure baby,” Chloe said, kissing her again. “Headache?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay.” Chloe began gently scratching across Beca’s scalp, rubbing at the base of her head, and then running her hands through her hair, and repeating the process.

She knew Beca had fallen asleep in seconds of her starting, but she didn’t stop.

She was just so glad to have her there, home and safe.

[elves-n-angels]

How Sebastian Stan Went From Winter Soldier to 'Winter Swoldier'

To keep up with the Chrises, Stan upgraded his diet, training, and worldview. And 2020 is shaping up to be his best year ever.

BY LAUREN LARSON 

DEC 19, 2019

THE COFFEE-SHOP staff is having a silent meltdown. The peppermint tea I ordered was forgotten as soon as Sebastian Stan walked in. He orders a coffee, receives it instantly, and goes to put it down on a table. The lid isn’t fully on, and the coffee spills. It’s almost a “stars are just like us” moment, but then a barista suddenly materializes with a paper towel in his outstretched palm. “It’s wet,” he says eagerly.

Stan, 37, is wearing black shorts, a black T-shirt, midcalf black socks, and a gray hoodie missing its drawstring. He looks very off-duty SoHo, which he is: He’s back home in New York City on furlough from preparations for The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, an extravagant collaboration between Marvel and newborn streaming service Disney+.

He’s also wearing a blue baseball cap, which sits slightly higher on his head than it might on the head of someone with less va-va-voom hair. That hair sent the Internet into a tizzy recently, when a poster for Falcon showed Stan with a short cut. In the past when Stan has played the Winter Soldier (né Bucky Barnes), he’s had shoulder-length hair. Next to his forehead, which is giant—the White Cliffs of Dover of foreheads—the longer style made him look very sinister.

Stan is somewhat less recognizable in street clothes, but women still side-eye him on their way to the bathroom. Maybe they recognize him; maybe he’s just a little too strapping not to be famous.

As Stan talks, he maintains an unsettling deadpan, verging on a glower. “People always ask me if I’m okay,” he says, still glowering. “They’ve said I have ‘serial-killer resting face.’ No matter what I do, I’ve always had dark circles under my eyes that never really go away. Lately there might be a little moisturizer happening here and there, just in case. Preserving a couple years, or whatever.”

The more reserved the actor, the more likely he is to become part of Hollywood mythology. Between Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) and Captain America: Civil War (2016), a rumor circulated that he had gotten too ripped for the arm he’d worn in the earlier film, a wraparound contraption meant to look like a machine prosthetic. Redditors called him “the Winter Swoldier” and “Bulky Barnes.”

Stan laughs when I bring it up and clarifies that he used a new-and-improved arm in each successive film. With the first iteration, he had to apply lube to slide his real arm into what was essentially two rigid metal tubes. “It was like having a massive hammer attached to me,” he says, “but it looked unbelievable in the movie, and it actually informed a lot of my body language.”

Subsequent arms were more mobile, and Stan doesn’t have to lube up to get in there anymore: There’s a sleeve inside the arm for his next appearance as the Winter Soldier. But, he concedes, he did get too big for the arm used in Civil War. “I was so insecure being around these massive fucking guys, so I started lifting really heavy and ate a lot. I remember I showed up, and I was a little bit bigger than I had been in The Winter Soldier. The arm was a bit tight,” he says. “I was losing circulation.”

Stan is not a new arrival in the Marvel universe: He made his superhero debut in 2011, with Captain America: The First Avenger. But recently he’s enjoyed a burgeoning late-term fandom as his roles (and arms) have ballooned. Beyond Marvel, he starred alongside Margot Robbie in 2017’s I, Tonya, as Tonya Harding’s jackass boyfriend. When we meet in October, he’s just returned from shooting the spy film 355 in London, with Jessica Chastain, Penélope Cruz, Lupita Nyong’o, and Diane Kruger. Another insecurity-inspiring roster.

With Stan’s constellation of anxieties—he says he’s “terribly self-aware, to the point of detriment”—he is uniquely suited to stardom in 2020. A decade ago, audiences wanted actors to be pillars of Hollywood hubris, strutting around in latex Marvel suits, muscly and impenetrable. We still want the muscles, but we also want stars to be genuine.

Marvel films can seem at odds with that national craving for authenticity. Steve Rogers, for example, becomes Captain America instantly, in the first ten minutes of The First Avenger: He goes into a machine and emerges fit, huge, and self-actualized. I ask Stan whether that narrative—man gets muscles and immediately earns the admiration and attraction of everyone in his midst—isn’t a dated, unrelatable picture of masculinity.

“When I was watching Steve Rogers,” Stan starts in, “I saw him question his identity, his alliances, the government. ‘Who am I? What is this? What made me come into this is very different than the role I am in now.’ I think it was very timely, in the sense that you could see that character evolve. Then he gives up his shield and is like, ‘I’m out. I’m going to do my own thing.’ He chooses his own life. It’s actually more relatable.”

There’s an obvious metaphor there: Stan is Captain America, and stardom—and the press tours, the scrutiny, and the training that come with it—is his government, always invading his carefully fortified sense of self. As a result, he can appear very reticent in public, offering only occasional glimpses of the unguarded Sebastian Stan. Audiences live for those moments.

Stan is the anti-celebrity in the year of the anti-celebrity.

And his ambient hostility toward questioning is offset by the behavior of his Falcon costar Anthony Mackie. When alone in interviews, Stan can seem deflective and bored, but he gets an enormous kick out of Mackie, who has jumped in to rescue many an interviewer left to writhe on the hook by Stan. He is the Sebastian Stan whisperer, midwife to a charm that can be difficult to coax out.

“When I’m trying hard to find the honest moment, he sort of unlocks me a little bit. We both laugh and we find a way to have a good time,” Stan says. When I tell him that I’m planning to mine Mackie for gossip, he laughs. “Here’s what he’s going to say: ‘He’s way too serious. It’s boring. He slows everything down. It’s always these questions and, like, the stare. Give this kid a Yoo-hoo! Somebody get him a chocolate milk. Good God, put a smile on his face!’ ”

Mackie is the enthusiastic extrovert to Stan’s pensive recluse. Even though I reach him on the phone at 9:00 p.m. after a long day of shooting in Savannah—“I’m already going to bed,” Mackie says in a N’awlins drawl that sounds sleepier than usual—he’s forthcoming about Stan. He describes his costar as a hermit, a chronic Irish-goodbye-er who doesn’t offer much of himself at first. “If the FBI ever needed to get anything out of him, they’d be in very big trouble,” Mackie says. “I don’t know what the male equivalent would be of ‘resting bitch face,’ but Sebastian has nailed that 100 percent.”

His first impression, which lingered for a long time, was that Stan was a very quiet, very reserved actor. They shook hands when they met, but it wasn’t a buddy-com bromance at first sight. It wasn’t until much later, when the two were on a press tour for The Winter Soldier, that they hit it off. Mackie hung out with Stan and a few of his closest friends, and they “unlocked” Stan for Mackie the same way Mackie now unlocks Stan on press tours.

Their chemistry also plays well on set. They share a dedication to their work, and they both come from classical acting backgrounds. (“He went to Juilliard,” Stan says of Mackie. “He can do anything.”) Beyond that, they’re opposites, reining in each other’s moods to a perfect, workable middle. “He calms me down when I’m ready to rage against the machine,” Mackie says. In turn, Mackie bullies Stan into having fun.

Case in point: When they were on a press tour in Beijing, they had one of those endless nights that make press tours seem glamorous. “It just went on and on and on,” Mackie recalls. “We had to do press the next morning, and he’s like, ‘I’m going to bed.’ I’m like, ‘Nope.’ I took his wallet and his cell phone so he couldn’t get into his hotel room. Then, by the time we got to the press, I was fine. He just looked like he’d gotten hit by a car.”

Hollywood has always relished actor partnerships—from Robert Redford and Paul Newman to Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson—but now more than ever, buddying up feels like an imperative. Pairs perform, especially on social media. In November, when Stan and Mackie took over Marvel Studios’ Instagram to announce that they’d begun filming Falcon, fans were as thirsty for their friendship as they were for the show. Their dynamic is the stuff of memes: “[I] want someone to look at me the way Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie look at each other,” one fan tweeted.

I know what that fan meant. When Stan does look at you without suspicion—when, perchance, he laughs at something you say—it’s like winning a battle.

WHEN IT COMES to fitness, Stan has also benefited from the influence of a charismatic spirit guide. He played soccer and basketball at his Rockland County, New York, high school, but he didn’t start running and going to the gym until he was in college at Rutgers University. And he didn’t get really into fitness until 2005, when he was cast in a film titled The Covenant, which Stan calls “really classic.”

Really classic, indeed: The Covenant also stars Chace Crawford, whom Stan would later join on Gossip Girl (another classic), and Taylor Kitsch. Stan plays one of five prep-school boys endowed with supernatural gifts and sick abs.

“I got a call,” Stan says. “And one of the producers said to me, ‘Look, you’re going to have to look like John Travolta in Staying Alive.’ He’s just glistening with muscles. It’s ridiculous. I was like, ‘Oh my God.’ I started to work out with a trainer, but it was my buddy

Taylor Kitsch who got me into it.” With the trainer and Kitsch as his gym shepherds, Stan began exercising in earnest.

Then, in 2013, ahead of The Winter Soldier, Stan teamed up with trainer Don Saladino, who’d also sculpted Ryan Reynolds, John Krasinski, and Liev Schreiber. That same year, Stan starred in a Broadway revival of William Inge’s Picnic, playing a character whose defining trait is his hotness.

“Inge was writing something very important about vanity and how people were perceived in terms of being quote-unquote good-looking, beautiful, or pretty,” Stan said in a Playbill interview in 2013. “In the play, there’s something shameful and dirty about it. Our obsession with beauty has not changed. When we see something that turns us on, we either appreciate it or judge it. It’s so primal. We still dismiss people if they’re pretty; we don’t care how they feel, because they should just be happy looking the way they do. That’s something we were trying to say with this production.” Stan is less philosophical about his Picnic bod these days. “I had to be basically shirtless every night, like eight shows a week,” he says. “I really zoned in on diet, and everything transformed.”

He prefers exercising on an empty stomach, so he generally starts his day with coffee—and a rice cake with some almond butter and honey if he’s feeling depleted. Today he was feeling very depleted, he says, so he had some scrambled eggs with Brussels sprouts and aioli. “I’m not going to tell you the place where I got that,” he adds, unprompted and wary, as though I might start dining there daily in a stalker vigil.

Stan is a proponent of “quality over quantity,” but that doesn’t mean he skimps on his workouts; he just knows that a 20-minute session that catapults his heart rate into the red zone is as effective as an hour of low-intensity bullshit. He runs (“I’m not going to tell you where”) when he’s feeling meditative.

In advance of the Falcon shoot, Stan started lifting weights every morning and knocking out stunt training for the fight scenes. He points out that filming an action movie is a workout in itself: You spend whole days running around and sweating in a heavy suit. “I mean, next to Evans and Hemsworth and all those guys, I feel like I’m 50 miles behind. I don’t think I can get to that size, to be honest,” he says. That aside, Stan feels, in his late 30s, better than ever. “My body right now is probably the best it’s ever been.”

THERE'S A PHOTO of Stan, age 15, on his Instagram. It’s a headshot from Stagedoor Manor, an acting camp that he attended while in high school. He’s recognizable from the brow up—he has the same broad forehead, the same voluminous hair. His arms look pale and soft, like overcooked linguine, and he’s staring down the camera with theater-kid intensity.

Stan lived in Romania until he was eight years old. Shortly after the Romanian revolution, he and his mother moved to Vienna and stayed there for four years before heading to New York in 1995. No, he says, he didn’t have a foreign exchange student’s social cachet in middle school. “Maybe if I was from France or something. But I am Eastern European. We left communism,” he says. “When I came here, I just wanted to be like everybody else.”

I ask Stan which of his mannerisms are typically Romanian. “You’re kind of putting me on the spot to define a whole nation—a guy who hasn’t been there for years,” he says. But he thinks for a second. “For me, based on my mother, the ‘Romanian temperament’ is perseverance—being able to handle more than you think you can. At 27, my mother was working two jobs in a foreign country where she barely spoke the language. There’s a sense of family and perseverance that’s deeply ingrained in the blood.”

Even for someone who has experienced a certain degree of stardom, Marvel fans can be a shock to one’s sense of family. Certain Marvel stars acquiesce to the attention on some level, greeting fans with a Chris Hemsworthian openness to scrutiny. Stan’s boundaries are reflexive and firm, as though his sense of self is always under attack. (Which, to be fair, it may well be: “He’s so reserved,” Mackie says, “but in this day and age that’s a very good quality.”)

Stan is more protective of his personal life than most actors. Celebrities often use social media to dispense calculated chunks of themselves in exchange for privacy. Stan occasionally opens up on Instagram: “Been working with this guy through years of self judgement and mental wars when it comes to fitness and LIFE,” he wrote of Saladino in a caption accompanying a gym selfie. But questions about the people in his orbit ping ineffectually against his poker face.

He attributes this to only-vaguely-alluded-to incidents in which his family and friends were subject to public attention. As a public figure, he has opted into that attention, he explains, but they haven’t. It upset him when they were the targets of scrutiny, particularly when that scrutiny came from his fans. Stan seems to be looking for earnestness in an industry that, on the whole, disdains earnestness. He “tries hard to find the honest moment,” as he himself puts it (much like how he saw a profound statement about “our obsession with beauty” in William Inge’s horny play).

In this, the Marvel universe is an improbably good fit for him. We speak the week after Martin Scorsese said Marvel films “are not cinema,” and Stan is as defensive of the films as he can be without disrespecting Scorsese, one of his heroes. “All I know is that all movies affect people,” he says. “I’ve certainly experienced firsthand many people who have been affected and helped by Marvel movies.”

Captain America fans lean earnest. People have told Stan that Bucky Barnes helped them cope with their PTSD. During Q&A sessions, he’s asked questions like “What would Bucky Barnes’s major be?” and “What happened to Bucky Barnes when he fell from the train?” Stan fields those questions without sarcasm or diversion.

“They think we are these people,” Stan says, again without condescension. He’s content to take questions about Bucky Barnes, especially if it distracts fans from asking questions about Sebastian Stan. “Now we’re much more obsessed with the personality rather than the actor. We take people and swallow them and digest them and chew them up, and then we spit them out the other side. Then we’re done,” he says. “We’ve done that with numerous celebrities—people. I’ve seen people have massive ups and downs and stuff. All I can do is just try to be as honest as I can. And do my job.”

Men's Health Magazine, December 19, 2019.

[be-the-spark-flyboy]

Hard Feelings

Call It What You Want (8/?)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

A/N: this slow burn is annoying even me

Chapter Summary: Thank god for Rey

Warnings: swearing, sed Poe

Word count: ~2k

It isn’t the ideal weather for a walk but Beebee seems thrilled at the prospect despite the cold. His tiny boot-clad paws pattering alongside Poe, forever his loyal companion. The park isn’t completely void of human traffic, though it’s a lot busier when it is warmer.

Poe finds a seat far enough from the road and the sound of traffic while Beebee happily traipses through the frozen ground looking for stray twigs and running in circles chasing his tail. Poe watches him play, entirely in his own world.

Poe started the day feeling anxious about talking to you. Then he was disappointed that he couldn’t get you to meet up with him. He was mad at himself for kissing you instead of telling you that he broke up with his now ex-girlfriend first. Now after seeing you with Ben is he supposed to be mad at you for letting him kiss you? It hurt seeing you with Ben and all the resentment he felt was directed towards him and not you. 

Who’s to be blamed for this? What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to feel? If there was one clear emotion he felt atop of everything else, that would be confusion.

Poe whips out his phone, dialling the one person that could make him feel better. It doesn’t take long for his dad to pick up the phone.

If only there weren’t so many miles between them. The distance isn’t new to him. Poe spent so many years of his life wishing he wasn’t so far from his dad, wishing he could just run to him whenever he wanted to instead of settling for a phone call. But that never stopped him from seeking out comfort from Kes Dameron.

The first question he asks once Poe greets him is, “What’s wrong, Poe?” Looks like nothing escapes his dad’s notice. Is he that transparent? It must be the years of experience dealing with his constant moods over the phone. Poe sighs, rubbing his temples with his free hand.

“Nothing. It’s just, there’s just a lot going on,” he answers. “How are you?” Kes recognizes the weariness in his son’s voice right away. It isn’t the first time he’s hearing it. 

“I’m fine, just had lunch,” Kes begins to tell him about his day then quickly launches into a story about how a few people from his work covered his coworker’s car with post-it notes as a prank a few days ago.

His voice feels like a warm embrace in the unforgiving cold. Suddenly Poe is taken back to his childhood home, sitting by the fireplace watching with rapt attention as his father spun tales about anything and everything.

In his presence, nothing could harm him. Nothing could stand against Kes Dameron’s dogged determination to make his loved ones happy. The events of his day slowly become a distant memory in Poe’s mind as he laughs along with his dad.

“Better now?” Kes asks after a while.

“Yeah, thanks dad,” He did feel better.

“You still don’t wanna talk about it?”

“Not right now, no,” Maybe not ever, he thinks. Would it be so bad to just forget about everything?

“I’m here if there’s anything you need, okay?” Kes offers. His words bring a smile to Poe’s face.

“I know dad, I love you,” Not the worse day. He’s had worse before, he was fine.

Beebee nudges his feet as he hangs up, bored of playing with stray twigs by himself. Or maybe he was just cold. Poe lifts the corgi onto his lap, tucking him into his jacket, his head adorably jutting out. Beebee headbutts him on the chin.

“Looks like I need a shave, huh?” Poe asks him. “Actually, I think I’m gonna let it grow out a bit more,” He says, running his palm over his face, the light stubble grazing against his palm. Beebee looks up at him, tilting his head to one side as if he was pondering it.

“You think that’s a good idea?” Beebee lets out a small yip in response. “Yeah? Okay, then. I guess we’re growing a beard,”

—-

Poe never texted you after. It had been a few days since the kiss you really wanted to forget about but couldn’t. But you still needed to talk to Poe. You didn’t want to avoid him forever, neither could you pretend like nothing happened especially after running out of the house like that. You figured that he’d want to meet you some other time but he never texted again. 

You think about asking Rey about him when she comes over in a few minutes. She’d help you. But you’d have to tell her about kissing Poe, assuming Poe hadn’t already told the two of them, which seemed impossible. 

You use the remaining few minutes to tidy up a few things around the house, trying not to think too hard about anything. It was just Rey, she is your friend, she will help you. 

At the sound of the doorbell, Jessika springs up from her seat to get to the door. “Rey!” You hear them enthusiastically embrace, having not seen each other since the new year's party.

“We getting pizza, or do you guys want something else?” You ask and you get a chorus of agreement as a reply.

“I got us some wine,” Rey grins, pulling out two bottles from her bag.

Two hours and two large pizzas later, the three of you sit squeezed together in the couch, a movie droning in the background that none of you pays attention to. The alcohol draws more giggles from you as you sip wine from ceramic mugs, well into the second bottle by the time you finish your dinner.

Jessika animatedly recounts the story of how she saw the most attractive person in the world in the coffee shop that morning. Having already heard that particular story always twice, your attention slips away to your earlier dilemma. The wine certainly boosts your confidence ‘cause you’re sure you never would’ve gotten the words out if you were sober, but you dive headfirst into the question without any warning.

“Did Poe, um, tell you anything about the other night?” You hesitantly ask her just as Jessika finishes her story, absentmindedly picking at a thread on the blanket. “You know when you were at the dentist and I came over?”

“Before you say anything, I need to tell you that Poe broke up with Sarah weeks ago,” Rey interrupts you before you start on a downward spiral talking a million miles per hour. She’s glad you brought it up, because how was she supposed to ask you if you kissed her childhood best friend/ roommate?

You remain eerily silent for the while after whispering an oh at the revelation. Weeks ago? Long before he kissed you. Why didn’t he just tell you that? Oh, wait, because you ran out of the house after that and avoided him. You certainly owe him an apology.

Normally Rey is content sitting back and watching the drama unfold in people’s lives around her. But this was two people she really cares about, running circles around each other. Technically, meddling is justified if the parties involved were both dumbasses, right? And the only possible way to do that was to throw all the facts out in the open, hoping it would clear some things for you and at the same time try not exposing Poe too much.

“The guys saw you and Ben the other day at the diner. They had to leave before they could say hi, though,” Rey tells you.

“Oh,” That was something you didn’t expect her to say. “You know Ben?” You ask voicing out the first question in your mind.

“Yeah, he’s Poe’s godmother’s son,”

“Oh!” You suddenly exclaim. “He is Ben. It’s the same person! Ben Solo is Leia Organa’s son?” Rey nods laughing at your surprise. “I didn’t think he was that Ben, you know because they don’t have the same last name,”

“Are you dating him?” She asks.

“What? No. We’re just friends,”

“She’s not dating Ben, she’s meant to be with Poe!” Jessika cries out, dramatically flopping over the backrest

“Shut up, Jess,” you groan as Rey joins her, cackling. A thought hits you from nowhere all of a sudden. One you don’t like all that much.

“Does Poe think I’m with Ben?” Rey answers with a high-pitched, drawn-out, ‘maaaaybe?’ and you want to crash your head against the greasy pizza box. “I’m too sober for this,” You settle for draining the remaining wine from your cup instead.

“Why do they hate each other that much anyway?” You ask after a while. Sure, Poe mentioned some childhood animosity between him and Ben. But it looked like it was much more than that.

“Oh honey, you need more wine for that,” Jessika pours more into your cup, refilling hers and Rey’s as well. Of course, Jess would know. You would’ve asked if you weren’t too busy trying to stomp down your feelings for Poe.

“Sarah cheated on Poe with Ben,” Rey casually responds.

You splutter into your cup, almost choking on the liquid. “What?” Rey nods solemnly.

That was just great. Now you have to explain to the guy you like that you are not dating the guy whom his ex cheated on him with. And Ben. What was he thinking?

“How did that happen?” You ask.

“Well, it was early in their relationship,” Rey shrugs. “She convinced Poe not to dump her sorry ass after that,”

“Jesus,” You breathe. No wonder everyone hates her so much. “Oh god, what do I do now?”

---

“Stop that,” Snap nudges Poe who ignored him and continues to click his pen incessantly against his notebook. “You’re fucking annoying, what’s the matter with you today?” Poe tosses his pen on the table.

“It’s nothing,” He replies half heartedly. Snap knows that isn’t the case. He knew the last time his mood was this sour. But he was no longer dating Sarah, so...

“Is it Ben again?” Poe’s eyes immediately flicks up to the man in question sitting a few rows before him, shooting a withering glare to the back of his head. That is answer enough for Snap.

“What did he do this time?” The question comes from behind Poe this time as Kare leans forward between the two of them.

“It’s none of your business, Kare,” Snap tries to shoo her away. “And you two should pay attention, I’m not sharing my notes with you again,”

“Shut up, I’m not talking to you,” She waves him off, directing her attention back to Poe as Snap rolls his eyes at her. Poe angles himself to face her as he tells them both about what he saw at the diner. 

“That doesn’t really mean she like him, right? She kissed you,” Snap interrupts.

“I thought you were paying attention to the lecture?” Kare snaps at him.

“Shut up, I’m not talking to you,” Children, Poe thinks.

“She was wearing his jacket,” He continues, ignoring their bickering. “And she blew me off to go get lunch with him,” he shrugs. “It adds up,”

“Do ya’ll mind? Some of us come here to study,” Hux sharply interrupts from beside him, looking down his nose at the three of them. Signature sneer on his pasty face.

“Sorry Hugs,” Poe drawls, turning to the front.

He manages a few productive minutes of actually paying attention before his phone chimes in his pocket earning another glare from Hux. He rolls his eyes, pulling his phone from his pocket to switch it to silent. Then the notification catches his eyes. You texted him. Curiosity gets the best of him and he opens it.

Hey, sorry I couldn’t make It for lunch the other day. Would you like to go today?

Did he want to anymore? He had half a mind to blow you off. That may be a little petty but it definitely sounded appealing. Poe places his phone back in his pocket. He’ll just text you after class.

—-

The Dameron taglist (open): @writefightandflightclub @arkofblake @yougottakeeponkeepinon @multifandomlife22 @skymerons @smol-peter-parker @rae-rae-patcha @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @spider-starry @hkmultifandom @cloud-leader @elmoakepoke @staringmoony @valhallavalkyrie9 @the-cry-of-youth @liadamerondjarin @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @takemepedropascal @xremember-me-notx @softly-sad @loserbelle @littleeuphoriaelf @missmadwoman @gottalovethefandom @seejayyou

[anglophile-rin]

Soooo I had to go to work as my brain was still processing the MAJESTY of that trailer, bit before I went I def turned it into a million screengrabs, and now you get to hear Thoughts on them.

Okay, so first. That building in the first pic is 100% the building in Five's sunglasses reflection which puts it just down the street from the Dallas Book Depository (where they believe JFK was shot from) and across that park from where JFK was shot. (Building circled in orange second pic, DBD with the arrow, and JFK site circled in white.

This definitely feels like they're trying to either take out the pres, OR take out the guy Taking out the pres.

Oh, also, that's old man Five's scope, if we recall the picket fence he was camped out behind. Right down to the radio strapped to the fence.

Which means, um, Holy shit? Luther and Pogo(??) are the ones in his scope????

Okay, these ones have a bit of a timeline confusion that I can't get my head around yet, so bare with me.

The top two are of "2nd Event," "3rd Event," "4th Event," and a smidge of "5th Event"(2nd, 4th, and 5th presumed based on placement).

The 2nd Event is Allison landing in the 60s. Which 100% fits with our theory that the order of the teaser photos on Insta were landing order, so go team us!!

The 3rd Event is Luther's landing, and we have a date! April 10, 1962. (This is also that part of the vid where Luther hilariously yells holy shit while falling through blue into a dumpster).

The 4th Event is where things get kind of odd? As far as I can read, the date says "November 17, 1963." And it shows Diego landing.

However, it doesn't seem right that Diego could grow THAT hair and THAT beard in....what, the 8 days before the Apocalypse?

Also, the Television he's looking at (in the third picture) presumably when he lands is showing Kennedy's inauguration, which is January 20, 1961. Maybe it's a...rerun? Either way, TUA once again gives me dates and times that do not make sense, and I am not okay with it.

The 5th Event is obvs Vanya landing, looking that magnificent white suit. She seems unconcious and in an alley, probably the one she stumbled out of in that fan video going around, ready to be hit by the love of her life's car.

This one is short. Five is sneaking somewhere, some kind of TV set it looks like, and "Pogo" is written on the blackboard he passes. Maybe Reg took his talking primate onto TV?

This one I just want, because those look like Klaus boots and pants and I want him to bust out the crime fighter moves.

If we could take a moment to throw our minds back to Ben's promo screenshot, it's the same room and position as that top photo here, but with a dude in the ceiling. Allison is also experiencing some floating furniture. Dear GOD let it be Klaus using TK, please funky disco Jesus.... But also very likely Vanya. Sigh.

Can we appreciate Allison and her husband disposing of a goddamn body in a rug while Klaus and Ben chat on their couch in the background? Because I think we all need to.

And, finally, I find it hilarious that they are actually somewhere called the "Tiki Lounge" and that this is the face of a man realizing he is going to be a very poor father.

So, tada! Please, enjoy the fruits of my obsessiveness, I am certain there shall be more to come!

Now With More Ravings!

[ren1327]

Sweet Survivor Ch.7

Darius burst into the room, causing Ben to yelp and sit up. Kenji groaned and looked up.

“Darius? Dude, what—”

“We got a problem.”

*

“What is that?” Sammy asked in fear, looking down at a sixteen foot high deep green spinosaurid with bright yellow striped markings across it’s back and flank. It had a smooth back and a long crocodile like snout lined with sharp teeth.

Kenji and Ben were dressed in their regular clothes, looking over the balcony with Darius, Brooklynn and Sammy, Yaz inside.

It was currently roaring at Ally, both circling each other.

“Suchomimus…” Darius said. “It’s jaws aren’t that strong but…”

“But?”

Ally roared and charged the Suchomimus, snapping at her and missing, the suchomimus bit Ally’s throat, tearing out a chuck of flesh, Ally screeching and backing up. But the Sucho advanced, snapping and missing until Ally tried to bite her again, the Sucho using her sharp claws on her flank.

Ben gasped as she hooked her claws deeper into Ally’s side and yanked her off balance, tearing open her neck wound even more, Ally screeching in pain. She thrashed her legs at the Sucho, but it locked it’s jaws around her wound and with a twist of her head, left Ally bleeding out.

Ben covered his mouth as the Sucho screeched in victory, rearing her head up and pausing, tilting her head this way and that.

She growled and a juvenile came out of the trees, only eight feet tall and started tearing into Ally’s side, feasting on the well fought meal of its pack mate. The smaller one was a navy blue with white dappled markings on her body.

Suddenly, one coughed and spat out something familiar.

“Hello? This is -SCRRRRCH- to Jurassic World. Do you read me?”

“A satellite phone?!” Brooklynn yelled before clapping her hands over her mouth.

Two sets of eyes looked up at her.

But by the time they looked, the five had ducked down past the balcony to hide themselves.

The duo went back to eating and the teens snuck into the room.

“How are we gonna get that phone?” Ben asked. “I can’t imagine it has that much battery left.”

“Ben’s right.” Darius said. “We need to draw them away.”

“And how are we gonna draw Army and Navy off?” Kenji asked.

Everyone gave him a look.

“They look like camo colors—urgh! What’s the plan?”

“Ben and Yaz are too injured to move really fast.” Sammy said.

“Wait. Brooklynn,” Darius said. “Remember when Kenji and I were in the raptor paddock?”

“Yeah. You two almost died.” She said. “Wait…wait!”

She smiled.

“Wait, what’s the plan?” Ben asked.

 *

 “This is so gross.” Yaz said, riding Bumpy as she pulled a trolly full of raw meat.

“We gotta get them away from the front. So if we distract them with this, which they’re use to, maybe we can run out and grab the phone.” Sammy said.

Yaz wrinkled her nose.

Ben was looking at the empty bottles Kenji had stuffed in a canvas bag.

“Just count on Yaz. You know she’s got a killer arm.” He said.

“I don’t like this.” Ben said.

“I’m the fastest out of all of us.” Kenji said. “I can do this. We still have our second date.”

Ben chuckled and nodded.

Brooklynn and Darius were wearing trash bags over their clothes so the smell of meat wouldn’t stick strongly on them. They finished hauling the meat out to the south courtyard from the third floor window.

“Okay, you two get up to the penthouse.” Darius said. “Sammy, you’re with Ben and Yaz. Let’s go, guys.”

Ben grabbed Kenji’s bicep and he paused, placing a hand over his.

“I’ll be back.” He said, kissing his cheek. “I promise.”

“Be careful.” Ben pleaded before getting in the lift with Bumpy and Yaz.

Kenji smiled and made sure the windows were sealed and covered up.

They went down to the front.

“Any minute.” Darius said before hearing three loud shatters and the clang of the trolly being thrown over a balcony.

The suchos lifted their heads and sniffed, stalking towards the other side of the hotel.

“Keep low and slow for now. Only run if you have to.” Darius whispered and opened the front door.

Kenji nodded and crept down the monorail steps next to the entrance. He looked over the banister to see Army’s tail disappear. He quietly zeroed in on the yellow and black brick of a phone.

He bit his lip when he saw Ally’s blood soaked maw and dull lifeless eyes.

He turned and ducked when he saw Navy look over the side of the building, before sneezing and turning back around to join her pack mate. He army crawled to the monorail and started to climb, before feeling hot rancid breath wash over his right.

Army stood there, eyeing him.

He stayed very still…

Until she roared.

He crawled up and started running up the stairs, the phone clutched hard in his hand.

A bottle smashed behind Army and she turned to look, giving Kenji the moment he needed to run into the building. Darius closed the door quietly and they snuck to the hall.

“Here.” Kenji whispered, giving Brooklynn  the phone.

She checked it over.

“Still enough power to make a call.” She said.

They smiled at each other before Army burst through the glass doors and monitors, dazed.

Brooklynn gasped as they saw the younger Sucho came up behind her as she stood and shook her head.

The three ran towards the staircase, Army roaring and charged at them, slipping on debris and sliding in front of them, blocking the staircase.

Darius slid to a halt right in front of her open mouth before it shut. Kenji pulled him into the elevator with he and Brooklynn, Army smashing into the metal doors, making it impossible for them to move.

“Darius!” Kenji said and hit his shoulder. “The emergency door!”

Roaring, they heard Navy charge again, the door creaking open a fraction.

“Darius!” Kenji yelled.

Darius stepped in Kenji’s hand and was lifted to his shoulders. He pushed it up and open, crawling up as Kenji lifted Brooklynn and followed after her, Navy’s snout breaking through.

Darius was already climbing up the ladder when Kenji heard the elevator door above them burst open, Navy shaking her head as she snapped at Brooklynn’s ankles.

“Hey!” Kenji yelled and got on the other side of the ladder. “Right here!”

“Kenji!” Darius yelled.

“Just go!” He yelled. “Come on…”

Navy snarled and lunged at him. Kenji thought of his Dad, Candy, his soon to be born little sister, Ben…

And jumped over Navy onto the third floor.

Navy screeched and landed heavily on Army, who snapped and growled at her.

Kenji took off towards the stairs, climbing up as fast as he could. He heard banging behind him and the staircase echoed with Navy’s snarling.

 *

 Ben paced around as Sammy opened the roof top access door.

“With all that noise, we should get up on higher ground.” She said.

“And go where?” Yaz asked.

Sammy bit her lip, Yaz taking her hand and hugging her.

Darius burst through the door, Brooklynn behind him.

She panted and held out the phone.

“Here! Call the last number!” She huffed.

Sammy grabbed it and started dialing.

“Hello?” A familiar voice asked. “Hello? How did you get my number?”

“Roxy?!” Sammy asked.

“Sammy? Are you okay?!” She asked.

From the background they could hear a few voices. Then Dave spoke into the phone.

“Where are you right now?”

“We’re in the hotel! There’s two suchomimus trying to get at us!”

“The hotel?” Dave asked. “The one with the big SOS on top?”

“What?” She yelled.

“Look up, Kid!”

The five looked up to see a large sleek helicopter coming from afar. The word “KON” printed on the tail.