#oh well I'll stick to my guns. I thought about it a long time

[deoidesign]

Someone killed my boss last night and he sent me this I'm so fired

god I can't wait to make this comic.

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 2. book club

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: An incident at the diner causes you to get shaken up, and Joel is there to help.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, mutual pining, PTSD type symptoms, flirting, jealousy, attempted robbery, reader gets mildly injured

WC: 6K

Series Masterlist

"So you see why it's so important you keep on top of your oil changes, yeah?" Mr. Connor finished saying as you set down his plate of waffles and sausage. You nodded enthusiastically while you filled up his coffee.

"I was never really any good at car stuff," you admitted, but he shook his head.

"If you take care of it, that car'll last you five more years and save you boatloads of money," he told you, wagging his finger. "You come by my shop any time and I'll take a look at that beater you're drivin', won't rip you off, either."

You laughed as you heard the bells above the door ring and Maria greet the next customer.

"I'll hold you to it," you said with a wink before turning to put the coffee back on the burner.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the familiar outline of a man settle into Joel's usual seat at the counter, and you felt the butterflies stir up in your stomach. You glanced up to make sure there wasn't any food getting cold in the window before pulling out your notepad and walking over. As you approached, you mentally braced yourself for the onslaught of his cologne, but as you got closer, you couldn't smell it. In fact, all you could smell was soap and maybe a faint hint of oil from his gun.

When you paused in front of him, the realization dawning on you, he glanced up from the menu with a smirk. A slow smile spread across your face when you looked him in the eye.

"Better?" was all he said, and you couldn't stop the giggle from escaping your lips.

"You didn't have to do that for me," you said, suddenly feeling bashful and looking down at your blank notepad.

"I know, but I wanted to," he said, leaning back and closing the menu. He didn't even know why he looked at it anymore, he knew it by heart already. "Thought maybe it'd make you stick around long enough for me to get to know you better."

You definitely felt your cheeks flare at that comment, and it must have been visible because Joel just grinned, clearly very pleased with himself.

"Where are you from?" he asked, determined to try to make some more progress with you today.

"Pennsylvania," you said, finally looking back up at him with a smile as you tapped your pen on the pad.

"Northerner," he said with feigned disgust. "And what brought you all the way to Texas?"

"The incredible job opportunity, isn't it obvious?" you said, and he laughed. A real laugh, one you hadn't heard before, and it did something to you. Uh oh.

"You're funny," Joel said, almost as if he were saying it to himself. You grinned and decided to steer the conversation in a different direction: away from you.

"What about you? Have you lived here your whole life?"

"Born and raised," Joel said with a nod. "Our pop used to be the town sheriff, before he passed 'bout ten years back or so."

"So, you followed in your father's footsteps?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Suppose I did," he told you, leaning forward. "But can I tell you a secret?"

You hummed and leaned forward as well, trying to bite back your smirk.

"Kinda wishin' now I was the one who bought this place instead of my brother," he said quietly and so close to your ear that it sent a shiver down your spine.

Still leaning in, you dropped your voice to match his and said "then who would stop those teenagers from drawing phallic images on street signs?"

He laughed again, the same deep, throaty laugh as before, and you felt your stomach clench at the sound.

"You heard that, huh?" he asked, smiling and leaning back. You shrugged.

"Lee isn't as quiet as he thinks," you told him. You wanted to say you had to learn early on to eavesdrop, that listening and anticipating danger became second nature to you, but you caught yourself.

"Howdy, brother," you heard Tommy's voice boom from somewhere behind you. You took the opportunity to sneak away and check on your other customers while they talked, but you made sure to set Joel up with coffee before heading towards the other end of the counter, his eyes trailing after you and staring a moment too long on your bare legs.

"You givin' her the business?" Tommy asked, nodding in your direction, and Joel nearly choked on his coffee. Tommy raised his eyebrows.

"She's, uh... she's a nice girl," Joel finally managed to get out after wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"He's got the hots for her," Betty whispered to Tommy as she ambled by. Joel cleared his throat loudly and gave her a stern look, but she just laughed and kept walking.

"Oh, Joel, I'm beggin' you, don't screw this up for me. She's a real good waitress, I don't wanna lose her - "

"Would you keep it down?" Joel whispered, his eyes darting around to make sure you weren't within earshot. "I ain't gonna screw anythin' up for anyone, don't worry. She's just... nice."

"'Nice'," Tommy repeated, clearly not buying it. He was about to say more, but Joel straightened up in his seat and averted his gaze, trying to wordlessly warn him you were heading over.

"Sorry to interrupt. Are you ready, Joel?" you asked him, your pen and paper in hand. He looked up at you and it was hard to fight the goofy look on his face now that you didn't regard him with such disdain.

"Yeah, sure. Let's put this guy to work, huh?" Joel said, pointing to Tommy, and you giggled. Behind you, Tommy rolled his eyes. Nice.

Joel told himself he was only allowed to think about you on his walk back to the station after lunch. You had told Betty you weren't interested in dating anybody at the moment, but he could wait. He wondered if he could change your mind, if he could make you come around to the idea of being with him, or at least give him a chance. You definitely seemed much warmer towards him today. He must have been wrong yesterday, you really must be sensitive to smells if all it took was for him to stop using that obnoxious cologne Sarah got him that he felt too guilty to throw away.

"Hey boss, how was lunch?" asked Bobby, the town's deputy and Joel's right hand man.

"Good. Anythin' goin' on here?" Joel asked, shrugging off his blazer and hanging it on the coat rack outside his office.

"Not much. I was 'bout to let Ollie outta the drunk tank. His wife was callin', askin' after him," Bobby said before rising to his feet with a groan. Although the man was ten years younger than Joel, his joints seemed to be ten years older.

Joel glanced at the time on his watch with a nod.

"Yeah, go ahead. Third time this month, though. Next time it happens, I'm keepin' him longer."

"Alrighty," Bobby said over his shoulder as he pulled the keys from his pocket and headed back towards lockup.

Joel sighed and began flipping through the papers littering his desk before giving up and leaning back in his chair to stare out the front window, watching people as they walked past. Before he could stop himself, his mind had already wandered back to thoughts of you, and it took him five whole minutes and Ollie's hungover ramblings to snap him out of it.

Maybe Sarah would want to get pizza for dinner.

It was nearly seven at night as you made your way back home from work, your feet aching and your head throbbing. At the very least, it was a cool, summer night. The breeze was enjoyable and the sun was still peeking out just enough to keep your skin pleasantly warm. All you could think about was getting home and running a bath to soak your sore muscles. It had been a long time since you held a job, let alone a job that kept you as active as this one.

Patrick didn't like the idea of you working. When he first suggested you quit your job and stay at home, you thought it was sweet. You took it to mean he wanted to provide for you so you could relax and be a homemaker, maybe even a mom one day. But after a few months, you quickly realized he just didn't want you around other people, or more specifically, other men. Without even knowing it, you trapped yourself at home without a lifeline, and it was exactly what he wanted.

Even though you were sore now, you felt good. You were taking care of yourself. Providing for yourself. And you never felt more proud.

You were juggling your keys, trying to find the right one that opened the door to the sidewalk, when you heard a familiar voice exit the pizza place.

"Well, look who it is," you heard Joel say, and you let the keys dangle at your side as you turned around with a smile.

"Evening, Joel," you replied, your eyes quickly drifting down his body. It was the first time you had seen him in casual clothes. Every other time you ran into him, he was in his work uniform, which usually consisted of some type of suit. But tonight, he was wearing dark blue jeans and a beige button up shirt with short sleeves. As he strolled over to you, balancing a pizza box in his hand, your eyes were immediately drawn to the way the muscles in his arms strained against the fabric of the shirt, making your mouth go dry.

"Tommy finally let you leave, huh?" he joked, and you had to remind yourself to laugh, your mind still too fixated on the way he looked in that shirt.

"Dad?" you heard a girl's voice call behind him, and you both turned your attention towards the voice. You remembered your brief interaction at the pharmacy and realized that she must be Sarah. Her eyes flickered from you to Joel, then back to you, clearly waiting for Joel to introduce you, but he seemed frozen in place. So, you stretched out your arm and introduced yourself with a smile, which she reciprocated.

"You look familiar," she said, tilting her head to the side the same way her dad did.

"I think I saw you at the pharmacy a couple days ago," you reminded her, and she snapped her fingers.

"That's what it is," she said, giving you another smile. "Are you working for Uncle Tommy?" she asked, looking at Joel again, who was still standing there, unmoving, watching the two of you interact. She frowned slightly at him, picking up on his strange reaction as well, before giving you her attention again.

"Yeah, at the diner. He hired me earlier this week, brand new," you told her, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. Joel's silence was deafening at this point and starting to make you uncomfortable, so you held up your keys and pointed to the door.

"I won't keep you guys. It was great to meet you, Sarah," you said with a wave, but before you could turn towards the door, she stopped you.

"Why don't you join us?" she asked, shooting Joel a mischievous look as if she finally realized the reason for his behavior.

"Oh, no, that's so nice of you, but I'm just gonna jump in the bath and go to bed, it's been a long day," you replied. Joel's body stiffened next to you when you announced your plans.

Finally, he managed to clear his throat and speak.

"We'd love to have you join us, we were just gonna grab a picnic table out back," he said, and you swore his cheeks looked a little pinker than usual.

You were struggling to find another polite way to turn down their offer when he added "c'mon, why don't you lemme serve you for a change?"

Sarah smiled as she watched the two of you. She couldn't wait to tease her dad about it in the car later.

"Alright," you said slowly, lowering your keys once again. Joel's face broke out in a huge grin before leading you and Sarah down the short alley to the small courtyard behind the building, where there were a few picnic tables and string lights draped overhead.

"Are you sure I'm not intruding?" you asked again, and they both vehemently shook their heads.

"No way," Sarah said, licking the sauce off her fingers after she picked up her piece from the box. "It's nice to have another girl around for a change."

"Sarah," Joel said warningly under his breath.

"I just mean it's nice to hear about something else other than work and football," she said to him with a grin, and he rolled his eyes, choosing to sit on your side of the table instead of hers.

"So, you live above the pizza place? That seems pretty cool. Pizza whenever you want," she said, covering her mouth as she spoke. You swallowed your food before responding.

"Yeah, it is pretty convenient. And they actually have good pizza," you said. "I think I'm finally getting used to the smell."

Joel's knee accidentally knock against yours under the table and you had to fight the urge to jump away, the contact startling you.

Sarah asked the same questions everyone in this small town inevitably asked you when you first met: where are you from and why are you here? The first question was easy, the second one always gave you pause. It wasn't until Sarah asked that Joel suddenly realized you never really answered him when he asked the same question earlier that day, so he stopped chewing to pay attention.

"Just looking for a change," you said with a shrug, taking another bite of pizza. Sarah considered your answer for a moment before following up.

"Have you ever been here before?"

"Nope."

"So you just got in your car and ... drove?"

"Kind of," you said with a nervous laugh. Joel frowned slightly.

"That's so cool," Sarah said, a smile stretching across her face. "Dad, doesn't that sound so cool?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, finally joining the conversation. "Do you got family down south or anythin'?"

"Uh, no," you said, shaking your head. "Just always heard it was nice down here so I thought I would see for myself."

"You think you're here for good, then?" he asked, his voice a little more hopeful than he wanted to come across.

"That's the plan," you said to him with a smile.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Sarah asked out of the blue, and your eyes darted back to her in surprise.

"No," you replied slowly, heat creeping up your neck and guilt dancing in the back of your head while Joel hid his grin behind his pizza. "Do you?" you deflected, raising your eyebrows at her with a smirk, and she giggled, shaking her head.

"You better not," Joel said, and the two of you laughed.

Over the rest of the hour, you listened to Joel and Sarah crack jokes and argue over what movie they would end up watching later that night and you felt the smile slowly begin to slip from your face as you came to the sobering realization that the type of dynamic they had, one that was so obviously built on love and trust, was something you never truly experienced before. It wasn't just something you saw in the movies or read in books. People in the real world actually got to experience it, and you couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Why not you? What did you ever do to receive the type of life you got?

After parting ways and thanking them over and over for dinner, you finally headed upstairs and collapsed on your small sofa. You untucked your work shirt and unzipped your skirt, but that was as far as you got, exhaustion winning the fight.

You closed your eyes and wished you had the energy to get up and run a bath, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it yet. Instead, you let your mind wander, imagining a life where you could call out to someone who cared for you in the other room and ask them to run the water. Maybe they would surprise you and light a few candles and mix in some soothing bubble bath. You knew that would never happen. You could never let yourself be honest enough with anybody to allow them into your life, but it didn't stop you from wishing for it, anyway. And right before you drifted off to sleep, you imagined that certain somebody had dark brown eyes and soft curls on the top of his head that you were itching to run your fingers through.

As hard as you tried to keep to yourself, the town was very small, and eventually you found it was nearly impossible to keep from making connections with people. Whether it was through work at the diner or striking up a conversation with someone at the store, you were quickly becoming interwoven in the lives of the people who graciously accepted you as one of their own.

You were particularly becoming fast friends with the girl who worked the register at the pizzeria below your apartment. Her name was Hailey and she was a couple years younger than you, but you had a lot in common, one of which was a shared taste in the same movies and books, so you were excited when she invited you to join a book club she and a couple other women in town started. As much as you enjoyed talking about books, you found you also very much enjoyed listening to all the town gossip that inevitably came out after everyone had their first glass of wine.

"So, Nikki, did I hear Sam asked you out on a date?" an older woman named Martha asked. Nikki blushed when the group turned to her, some women poking her in the side and others murmuring excitedly under their breath.

"Yeah, but it's not a big deal," Nikki said, flicking her long, dark hair over her shoulder. She looked to be a little older than you were but it was hard to guess her age.

"Not back in town for two weeks and she's already got a date," Hailey said, rolling her eyes next to you playfully. "Some girls got all the luck."

"Oh, stop it," she chided with a smirk, then paused as if she were rethinking her next statement before blurting out "kind of wish someone else woulda asked me out instead."

That got the whole group's attention, even your own, and you barely had any idea who most of these people were. But you supposed any amount of gossip paired with alcohol is good gossip.

"Oh, please, you don't gotta say it, we all know who you've been chasin' after all these years," another woman chimed in with a giggle. Fortunately, you weren't the only person in the dark.

"Who?" Hailey asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"Joel, obviously," the other woman replied, and while the rest of the group groaned, everyone tossing in their two cents and offering up their favorite things about him, you remained frozen in your chair, blood running cold.

"Lord, he came into school last week to pick up Sarah, and the way his ass looked in those jeans..."

"Did I ever tell you about the time I nearly slipped on the ice and he caught me? Had to go to confession the next day..."

"... and I swear, I've considered committing a crime just so he would throw those handcuffs on me..."

"I don't know how that man has been single for so long..."

Part of you wanted to laugh at some of the things the women were saying about Joel, but the other part of you felt hot and angry. You wanted to scream shut up, don't think about him like that, don't even look at him. And through your alcoholic haze, you realized you were jealous. Jealous of all of these women, young and old, barking out comments about the town sheriff you had no business feeling jealous over.

The next day when he came into the diner for lunch, your head was still swirling with all of the comments the women in town made the day before. Distracted, you dropped your pen and pad on the ground as you made your way over to greet him, cursing under your breath.

Joel grinned when you finally approached, looking every bit as frazzled as you felt.

"Tough day?"

"Huh? Oh," you said nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear and shaking your head. "N-no, not really. Well, maybe - shit," you said when you knocked over a box of straws with your fidgeting.

Joel laughed and leaned back in his chair.

"What's got you all worked up?" he asked, and you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Nothing," you said, shaking your head again, trying to focus. "What can I get for you?"

"Nuh uh, darlin', not so fast," he said with a tsk, and you sighed. "What's goin' on? You can tell me, y'know. I am a man of the law."

He meant it to be playful, but with your history, it had the opposite effect. You winced and swallowed the lump in your throat, and trying not to make matters worse, you caved.

"I went to a book club last night," you mumbled, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Book club, huh? Sounds like fun," he said, watching you carefully. "Maybe had a little too much fun?"

You finally dragged your gaze up to meet his and saw he was grinning at you, and you managed to force out a small laugh.

"Yeah, you could say that," you said, hoping that would be enough, but he wouldn't let it go.

"Can you get me a coffee? Then when I get back from the restroom, I wanna hear all 'bout your little book club," he said with a wink, then stood from his chair and turned around, heading towards the bathrooms while your gaze landed on his ass. It didn't look too bad in dress pants, either.

You tried to steady your breathing while you flipped over a clean mug and filled it with coffee, your mind racing and wondering what lies you could come up with to prevent telling him the reason you were so distracted.

Lost in thought with your head down, you didn't even notice when another customer took a seat at the counter until the man cleared his throat. You glanced up and apologized before bending down to grab another mug and set it down in front of the stranger.

You were pouring his coffee and telling him about the specials, your eyes glued to the counter, when he slid the barrel of a pistol across the table and into your line of sight. You froze, your hands gripping the coffee pot fiercely as you broke out into a cold sweat. You flicked your eyes back up to him. He didn't appear to be much older than you. He had his unkept hair hidden underneath his black hoodie, and you noticed his eyes looked bloodshot, his skin clammy. You knew that look. You've seen that same look one too many times.

"What do you want?" you whispered, your voice shaking.

"Open the register, gimme all the cash in this bag," he said quietly, tossing a tote bag across the counter at you. You nodded, grabbing the bag while your fingers fumbled with the buttons, desperately trying to remember how to open the drawer without a sale. You could sense he was growing frustrated with how long it was taking, and you felt the tears welling up in your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you sobbed quietly. "I-I'm new, I can't remember-"

"Hurry the fuck up," he growled, and you blinked rapidly, trying to clear your vision, the tears falling down your cheeks.

"Drop the fuckin' gun, Marcus," you heard Joel's voice call out, and a wave of relief coursed through your body. But Marcus got startled, and instead of doing as he was told, reached across the counter and grabbed you by the throat, pulling you against his chest to partially shield his body, the gun pressed against your temple as your fingers clawed at his arms.

You couldn't move. You couldn't breathe. Tears just streamed down your face as you locked eyes with Joel. They no longer carried that playful glint, his lips no longer turned up into a grin. His brow was furrowed deep and his gun drawn, cradled expertly in his large palms as his eyes shifted back to Marcus.

"I'm not lookin' to hurt anyone, sheriff. Just lemme walk outta here," Marcus rumbled behind you, his sour breath invading your nostrils and making your stomach roll.

"Now, you know I can't do that," Joel said, taking a small step forward. "But put down the gun, let her go, and we'll talk."

The grip around your throat tightened and you let out a small, pained squeak. Joel's jaw clenched when he heard the noise, his patience running thin. You hadn't noticed at the time, but the entire diner had gone quiet, some patrons slinking down in their seats, others craning their necks to get a better look.

"Goddamnit, Marcus, don't test me today," Joel growled, his eyes ablaze. "I don't wanna call your mama and tell her I had to spray her only son's brains all over the floor, but I fuckin' will." The tone in Joel's voice sent a shiver down your spine as you stilled, waiting for the stand off to be over.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the grip on your throat loosened and you no longer felt the cold metal pressed against your head. Joel locked eyes with you again as you coughed and shakily fell down to the floor behind the counter, curling yourself into a ball while you heard Joel reading Marcus his rights, the jingle of his handcuffs rang like bells in your ears.

Once Marcus was restrained, you heard Tommy bolt out of the kitchen and rush over to you. He knelt down on the ground, asking if you were okay, if you needed a doctor, concern lacing his voice but when he reached out to touch you, you flung yourself backwards violently, knocking the back of your head against the counter.

"Shit," you muttered, rubbing your head as fresh tears fell down your cheeks.

"Hey, easy now," Tommy said soothingly, glancing over the counter as Joel spoke on the phone with Bobby, ordering him to bring a car to take Marcus back to the station and book him.

"I'm fine," you whimpered, still rubbing your head as you shakily forced yourself to your feet. You watched as Joel marched Marcus to the front of the diner, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping his shoulder as he directed him through the door. A few patrons clapped weakly as the two disappeared outside, and the diner filled with excited chatter once again.

"You alright, sugar?" Betty asked, suddenly appearing beside you, face etched with worry. You flinched and brought a shaky hand to your sore neck.

"Yeah, I just need to use the restroom," you said, and before anyone could say anything further, you tore off your apron and made a beeline for the women's room.

You locked the door behind you and slid down to the grimy floor, burying your face in your hands as you sobbed, the adrenaline wreaking havoc on your nerves.

It was too much. It was all too much. The look in Marcus's eye was one you saw too many times. A junkie in desperate need for a fix. A drunk who would say or do anything for another drink. The fingers around your neck were no longer there, but you still felt them squeezing every last bit of oxygen from your lungs, every tear from your eye until you could hardly breathe.

The door handle jiggled and you jumped, wiping furiously at your face before shouting out a shaky occupied!

"Hey, it's me," you heard Joel's voice say from the other side of the door. No longer did he have that hardened edge to his tone. The warmth and softness in his drawl had returned.

"I just need a minute," you said quietly after a long silence, and you heard him shift his weight.

"I know, but I - can you let me in?" he asked, and you could hear the concern in his voice. You slid your eyes shut as fresh tears drenched your face once again. You ached for comfort. You wanted it so badly you would do just about anything for it. But every other time, you've been let down. Over and over and over again.

"I just need a minute," you repeated, just a whisper, not even sure he could hear.

"Then I'll be right here til you're ready, alright?" his voice came back, even softer this time. You nodded, even though he couldn't see you. You heard him sit down against the door with a tired sigh, and you let your head tilt so it rested against the door. There was a small bit of comfort to be had when you knew only an inch separated you from him.

"You were real brave," he said after a few minutes of silence. You scoffed and wiped your nose.

"Is that why I'm crying on the floor of a bathroom?"

"Please don't cry," he said, his voice strained. But you didn't say anything in return.

"He wasn't gonna do nothin'. He's got troubles, is all. Bad habits get the best of him, but he's harmless," he said, trying to make you feel better.

"I don't know, these bruises on my neck say differently," you replied, and you heard his breath hitch. Then you heard his shoes scuff on the tile floor.

"Lemme see," he said, his voice firmer now. He was standing, his voice above you, waiting to be let in. You hesitated, the tone of his voice putting you on edge, but you knew you couldn't hide in there forever. With a trembling hand, you reached up and unlocked the door, then scurried backwards so you were pressed up against the opposite wall as he swung the door open and stepped inside. His gaze fell on you and his eyes went soft at seeing your wrecked state before clicking the door shut behind him.

He rushed forward and you flinched. A bad habit of your own. He paused and slowed his movements, crouching down in front of you instead. He lifted a hand to pinch your chin but you turned your face away.

"Will you show me?" he asked gently. You gazed up at him with red rimmed eyes, your knees pulled tight against your chest. Finally, you lifted your chin. Again, he reached a hand out, but you stopped him.

"Please don't touch," you whispered. He looked at you and nodded slowly, dropping his hand again, examining your bruises with only his eyes.

"Maybe you should see a doctor," he said after a few minutes, but you shook your head.

"I'll be fine, it's just sore," you said, and his gaze flicked up from your throat to your eyes. His lips parted the longer he stared at you, and you felt the tremor return to your hands. You couldn't look away, his gaze too magnetic.

"Don't like seein' you cry," he murmured, still gazing deep into your eyes, trying so desperately to read you.

"I cry all the time," you said without even thinking. He blinked and frowned. He was about to say something else when a gentle knock on the door interrupted him.

"You okay in there?" Maria called out. You sighed and stretched out your legs, standing up and waving off Joel's helping hand.

"We don't gotta do it today, but I'll need you to come by and give your statement sometime soon," he said, glancing down at you with a sympathetic look.

"Okay," you replied, your voice cracking a bit. You looked at one another, both of you wanting to say more but neither of you could. So you reached out to open the door, forcing a smile for Maria.

"Sorry," you told her meekly, and she laughed.

"You're sorry? You just had a gun pointed at your head and you're sorry?"

You laughed weakly, then stopped short in pain, your fingers brushing against your throat.

"I just wanted to bring you your purse so you could sneak out the back," she said, lifting your purse up and handing it over to you.

"But my shift-"

"Oh my god, take the day off," Maria said, shaking her head and grinning. "Think you earned it."

"Okay," you agreed, then turned to walk through the kitchen where you could leave out the back so no customers would gawk at you.

"Lemme walk you home," Joel's voice said, startling you. You had just assumed he went back out front.

"Don't you have to, you know... work?" you asked, floundering for the right word.

"He ain't goin' anywhere," Joel said, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he walked by your side down the sidewalk.

The two of you walked quietly for a few minutes.

"I've never seen you like that before," you said, breaking the silence. He turned his head towards you, raising his eyebrows.

"Like what?"

"Like, all... cop-like," you said, chuckling at your terrible choice in words.

Joel grinned and glanced down at his feet.

"Yeah, well, job's not all inappropriate graffiti and speed traps."

You hummed in agreement as you kept walking.

"Do you have to unholster your service weapon often?"

"'Service weapon'?" he repeated, surprised at the term you chose. Although it wasn't wrong, it typically was not something most people said. You just looked at him, not acknowledging it, so he let it go.

"Uh, no, not really," he said, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Oh," was all you said, taking a deep breath and continued to stare straight ahead. He watched you from the corner of his eye for a moment.

"When I came outta the bathroom and saw - " he stopped short, then rubbed his lower lip with the pad of his thumb as he collected his thoughts. "You were scared. And I... reacted."

You glanced his way again, but he kept his eyes focused straight ahead. What was he trying to say?

"Thank you," you said softly, but he was quick to shake his head.

"Not lookin' for you to thank me," he said, finally allowing his gaze to drift back to you, giving you a small smile.

When you finally reached your apartment, you took out your keys and turned to him, ready to thank him again, even though he told you not to, but he spoke first.

"Here, why don't you take this," he said, holding out a small white card between his index and middle finger. You gingerly took it and flipped it over, reading the text on the other side.

"It's my card. Call me when you wanna stop by the station," he reminded you, and you nodded.

"My cell's on there, too. If you ever, y'know," he said, half a smirk playing on his lips as he nervously shifted his weight. "You ever wanna talk 'bout anythin', really. 'Bout what happened today, or... book club," he said, and you laughed. He grinned, relieved to finally see you smile again.

"Okay," you said with a nod, and turned to put the key in the lock.

He watched as you made your way all the way up the steps, and didn't leave until he saw the second door at the top of the stairs close firmly behind you.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77 @nandan11 @anoverwhelmingdin @fandomscollide @survivingandenduring

[busterkeel]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44390266

After reading this thoughts of a part two had my mind running from this prompt

Just a heads up this is going to be all over the place, but won't be too difficult to follow just bear with me, I don't usually write down my maladaptive daydream plots ideas

Either Jason ask

"... so what kind of powers am I going to have?"

Or one of the other bat-fam asks

" So, what kind of powers is he going to develop?"

[Got me thinking Danny would respond like]

"Oh that's easy I finally remembered them all, flight, invisibility, (Danny proceeds to list a crazy long list of powers)"

Or

"....Well there's flight, invisibility, ecto energy like ghost ray and force fields(he could even shoot a small one out for example), intangibility, telekinesis, uh.....increased strength and senses like hearing, smell, sight, then there’s ghost sense, overshadowing, hmm.... oh right duplication, I always forget about that one, there's creating portals but Dani and I had a hard time learning that might take you a while, uh.... did I mention ghost wail yet?.....what? (mouth gaping shock)

[Probably depends if Dani is his sister or daughter]

[And depends if she got her own core type or same ice core]

[the response depends on which bat-fam member responds]

"(shocked and asks what's overshadowing but then stops themselves) we'll go back to that one, who's Danny?

"Dani with an 'i', your sister, oh teleportation forgot that one too

"Tele-I have a sister?!?"

"Yeah older sister and aunts(I'm counting Val as an aunt) and [depends on the ship ex: everlasting trio, just Sam or just Val, I’m leaning towards everlasting trio], I have to introduce you to the rest of the family, actually I have to tell the rest of the family first....”

“You didn't tell them about me”

“No, didn't have time to, I came straight here when I sensed you"

[random bat-fam] "Wait, you said Older sister?! When did you have her?!?"

"Huh? Oh no no no she's a clone”

Or

"Who's Danny?..."

"Oh my sister, one of your aunts” 

“You guys are both named Danny/Dani? Doesn't that get confusing”

“Its Dani with an “i” or Elle, short for Danielle and she’s my clone so we make a joke out of it”

"You've been cloned?!?

"Yeah, by my ex evil Godfather... well that's another story, actually he might be able to help you with your duplication better than me when we get there

Oh and Dani has a different core so she doesn't have my full kit, you might develop a different core too, but the base powers won't be different"

[This could either be bad parents or good parents]

But if its good I imagine Maddie and Jack spoiling him with weapons aka ecoto guns

...... writing this I just remembered how Jason even came to be because they kicked Danny out......

Well damn, well Danny could make him guns

Honestly I just see the family trying to spoil him rotten

I would like for him to stick with calling Bruce Dad though he can call Danny GD like in “ The curious case of D. Grayson” for Ghost Dad

And if it's Pharoah tuck and undergrowth Sam

Val could be a ghost zone hunter or a ghost zone bounty hunter/infinite realm bounty hunter

They could be uncle tuck/uncle pharaoh tuck.... aunt Sam and aunt Val/aunt V

don't know what he would call them if its everlasting trio 

[Since Danny was 14 when Dani was made, 18 when Jason was born, he how old would he now if Jason became red hood when he was 18-19]

I'll make him 19y for a red hood vigilante foundation, kinda want to make him older but I'll just figure out the math and add on in my mind if I want him older in my daydreams

So Danny would be 37 along with Sam/Tuck/Val

Jazz is 2y+ than Danny so she'll be 39

Danny stop aging at 25

Id say both Sam and Tucker stopped aging like 2-3 years after 25 when they fully took in their liminality powers?  Now they're just waiting to die or something, got no clue i just need them to either die and revert or stop aging

What if Danny faked his death and is just waiting for them to die

Or he's just shapeshifting to appear like he's growing older but still waiting for them so he can dip from the mortal realm

I disagree with my previous thoughts now, I still want him and everyone else to have a human identity as long as possible, he could have a bunch of degrees with a job at Nasa or something

Wait…. How old would Bruce be?

So Bruce was 34y when he met Jason at 12y

22y years older than him would make him 41y, not that much older than Jazz and Danny at all especially Jazz, maybe they could be friends [Just friends.] she can help with his family connection problems or something

I high key want Jason to be small boy robin in his ghost form, but i want Danny and Dani to look older, so that would put on the possibility of him being able to change his form to look older

No wait I like it, they all still look the same age they died/were created

No wait….then he’ll appear older than both of them..., I'm just not going to think about this right now

Well at least they're tall as freaks in their human forms, which explains why Jason is the tallest bat sibling, but still shorter than all three Jazz, Danny and Dani

OP daddy Danny

... I got carried away again

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 1: Steer

Content Warning: Fantasy Racism, mentions of vomit, Endwalker Spoilers

There were many good things about Esredes choosing to have joined the Contingency and push himself north to Ilsabard. He saved people, he got to join a new organization, he saw more of the world- even if it was a hellscape- and most of all, he made new friends.

Making new friends was usually a good thing, but they could be very... eccentric, sometimes. Perhaps Esredes should have known better himself when he took the Pureblood former chief medicus of a legion he met in the Contingency to an Ala Mhigan and Radz-at-han fusion cuisine restaurant and insisted everyone try the spicy curry challenge. The discussion had been on Chocobos, and then it had quickly devolved.

"They are scary creatures," Andromeda, the defector medicus, had remarked about them. "I can't imagine what kind of strong will you must have to tame one... I think I'll stick to my car." Esredes tensed up at the mention of a car. "Speak for yourself." He said, quickly. "I'm not going near those evil devices." "Oh! You still have yours?" Ryousei, the half-Garlean, said to that. "I lost mine back home..." "I do! Well, scraps of it... it was pink! I named her Ladybug!" "Id love to take a look at it some time... i-if you don't mind. I used to work on mine with my... dad." His expression deflated. "What's a car?" Added Fiachna, one of the newer members of the network. "An unsafe metallic abomination." Esredes explained. He knew. Oh, did he know about cars, enough to say he never wanted to be near one ever again.

It was another cold night in Garlemald with the light of the full moon, and he had a mission. A mission to deal with a stray roader attacking carriages between camp and Tertium over the past several nights. That by itself made sense to him- destroy the moving target. He had some means of doing that with assistance, so it should be entirely doable. And then the rescued Garlean in charge who was all too trigger happy told them *how* they would lure it out.

With cars, as they called them. Several of them had been prepared for the task. Esredes stood by the lineup of them and just stared the metal carriages down. He'd seen so many destroyed ones among the wreckage that he didn't register there was a functional version in any form. And there was no Chocobo, but it wasn't an airship or manacutter, so how would it move without the air? He didn't know, and he wasn't exactly eager to find out. Knowing Garleans, it had a self-destruct mechanism for no reason just to kill more people upon destruction. What was a Garlean if not to kill everyone without a pearl on their forehead? Needless to say, Esredes was very reluctant to step into the passenger seat after fumbling to figure out how to get inside, but the task asked him to, so he reluctantly did. And it wouldn't be long before he regretted that choice.

Fast. Too fast. Whatever this thing was, it was entirely too fast, and he was used to flying. But something on the ground should never be able to pick up the speeds the thing accelerated to almost immediately. Esredes was all at once hopeless and helplessly trapped inside the vehicle, as trying to get out would most certainly kill him, but he could do nothing to slow it down as it drove across snow. Even worse, when they did find the target, the roader was covered in armor and opened fire on them with several guns, causing Esredes to yelp and duck down in the abomination to avoid being killed on impact then and there, only managing to raise up the metal on his gauntlet up to protect the driver from the bullets. To deal with the open fire, the car spun for a long moment to evade it. Esredes' urge to throw up increased as he gripped onto the seat for dear life. Another member of the party, the insane lunatic, thought it would be a great idea to jump onto the roader and take care of it that way. He was proven very wrong when the thing threw him right towards Esredes, the impact slamming his head into the back of the seat. The world quickly faded to static and limited sensations as he slid down and didn't get back up, not until the throbbing in his head began to alleviate enough for him to try and scramble up in the seat. For a small mercy, he managed to avoid emptying everything he had that day into the snow. But the moment the car stopped, he fumbled with the latch in a desperate escape to get out, and stumbled and half-tripped onto the pavement. He managed to pull himself back up into a stumble across camp until he could throw himself into bed and try not to focus on how much his head hurt.

"I see." Fiachna said to his comment in the present. "I'll avoid it, then." Andromeda, unfortunately, did not take the hint. "Cars are great! I have to take you for a drive, Ser Esredes!" "No," he said harshly, immediately. "Not. Ever. Throwing up once was more than enough." "What?" Ryousei said. "Aw cmon, car rides are a great way to relax honestly..." "It can play music and go REALLY fast!" She went on. "Ladybug had a V8 engine! She could really burn Ceruleum!!" "It can play music? Can I race a car?" Asked Fiachna. "I want to race a car. I can go faster."

Esredes sighed and kept eating the kibbeh appetizer they'd ordered. And yet, they kept going. "I loved racing!" Andromeda declared. "Oo, and obstacle courses! Spinouts... All sorts of things!" Ryousei chuckled. "Go figure, of course you're a speed demon, doc." "Did you know cars can go so fast the tires burn out??" "We should race." Fiachna declared. "Of course!!" Andromeda said. "Nothing better than pushing magitek to the BRINK! Once, I almost crashed into the side of a mountain!"

Esredes couldn't believe what anyone was saying right now. Garleans were truly insane, even the reasonable ones like her. Why were they like this. Why were they so wired to destroy themselves and others with their horrible contraptions. Between the creepy sounds playing from those devices that protected people from tempering, these things, and their traffic control having guns, Esredes was convinced good Magitek could only come from Ishgard itself. Not from the ones who wanted to destroy everything with it constantly.

Fiachna went on about wanting to race a car, until everyone's spicy curry they ordered for the spice challenge arrived. This relief gave Esredes the excuse he needed to hold a hand up. "All right. Enough car talk. I propose a countdown." It was time for everyone to die. When he hit zero, everyone took the first bite of the unreasonably spicy curry. Only Esredes and one other made it past the second round, only to meet their match. It didn't take long for both Andromeda and Ryousei to be freaking out about the heat. Andromeda grabbed Ryousei and declared, loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear,

"We are GARLEAN. WE WILL NOT SUCCUMB."

And that is how Esredes felt a big wave of secondhand embarrassment in the middle of the Ala Mhigan Thavnairian fusion cuisine restaurant for who he came along with. This is what you wanted, he reminded himself. For Garleans to be refugees in Eorzea and learn to be human by exposure and monitoring. So in the middle of the Ala Mhigan Thavnairian fusion cuisine restaurant, Esredes leaned back and sighed to himself. It would continue to be an ongoing process, to try and fix a defective peoples. But if he didn't try, what kind of follower of Shiva- and friend besides- was he?

So Esredes continued to listen and watch their theatrics in the restaurant, but when the embarrassment finally faded, he smiled a little. As per usual, these were his works in progress. And it was his duty not just to watch them improve, but to have some fun in the process.

[orchard-keeper]

!!!~Fic Recs~!!!

I thought I would put together a post with some of my absolute favorite ROTTMNT fics, because these sorts of posts made by authors I love have been what lead me to find them! So why not pay it forward and keep the hype up :) Also I'm intense about organization and archiving and making this record soothes me lmao.

In this post I'll be recommending completed multi-chapter fics. In no particular order, here they are:

Every Night the Longest Day by ashtreelane

-One of the first rottmnt fics I read. I think I maybe stayed up until ridiculous hours reading this. one of those reads that is An Experience. The way that the brothers care for one another is so tangible. The author's conveyance of dissociation/mental fatigue is so interesting and engaging.

KOSMARA by MagpieCrown

-A fic I'll be thinking about for a long, long time. Takes everything I love about the Bad Future and makes it even more bittersweet. The relationships between the characters are what sticks with me like knives in the heart, but the worldbuilding is also so clear (I can see so many settings in my mind's eye so easily! and they're inventive as well!) and the action/climax is incredibly intense. Moreover, the way some characters are never present in the narrative but have such a Presence... not one but two "haunts the narrative" vibes... oh wow. It's really just masterful.

The Call Back Home by @gooseinsurance

-The concept at the center of this fic's narrative is soooo interesting and cool to me!! I think about it, like, all the damn time. One of those ideas that you pick up and stare at in awe and file away into your personal understanding of canon forevermore. On top of that, the frustration you feel at the character conflicts is just palpable. It's heart-wrenching. Moreover, the way the author handles what I suppose could be classified as psychological horror is commendable and was invigorating and chilling to experience as a reader.

Under Pressure by ParvumAutomaton

-I never thought anyone could ever get me to read something about cave diving. Much less horror in a cave diving setting. That sounds like my worst nightmare lmao. And yet. I am so freaking glad I gave this fic a chance. It is one of my all-time favorites, and I know it will live in my brain rent-free for a long time. Leo's characterization and the way he handles scenarios is so realistic and feels so him. Moreover, the way the narrative unfolds and the pacing are so well-done. I could not stop reading. (And for those of you still squeamish about cave diving, there is less time spent underwater than you'd think!)

The Corner Store by KicsterAsh

-A turtle tots fic!! A rare feel-good recommendation from me with littel angst and much comfort and sweetness. I love the speculative biology of mutant turtles in the cold (brumation?! oh no!) so to see a take on it that is so wholesome and charming and well-written was very happy-making for me.

Hollow Mind by paperxcrowns @crows-murder

-Something grimmer than I would have thought I would like, but what really sucked me in is the way this is totally deserving of that tour de force description reviewers like to use so much. It introduces something that is missing from canon but could slot in easily in a darker tone: human experimentation/capture, gun-weilding agents, and separation from family/being stranded and running for your life. All in all it has a very Jason Bourne feel to it that I never thought I would love to see enacted with the turtles, but my gosh it works and works so well.

I wasn't sure which authors had accounts on here or not, so if I've missed you/you know the author's @, please let me know and I'll update the post!

[honeybeedewdrops]

Enemies to Lovers | B.Bradshaw

Warnings: Cursing

______________________________________________________________

You and Bradley had known each other for a long time and it all started on the first day of flight school. One would say you were enemies, you just couldn't stand his ego god it was so bad. That all changed when you started to develop feelings for him.

You walked into the class and Phoenix spotted you "Y/CS" she calls and walks up to you "We missed you at the Hard Deck last night" "Oh yeah sorry about that got caught up at home." You and Phoenix talk for a while and she introduces you to Bob her new WSO.  "Oh you have got to be kidding me" You say watching Rooster walk in "what?" Phoenix asks turning around "oh yeah Rooster." and Phoenix saw your look "Come on Y/CS be nice to him" "i'll start being nice to him once he get's that stick outta his ass" "were all the best of the best and we can't fail I won't fail so Y/CS don't cause trouble" Phoenix says walking away. "Rooster fancy seeing here I thought they only let the best flyers in" Rooster gritted his teeth "well fancy seeing you here Y/CS I thought you said the best" "I did and I am the best in fact better than you'll ever be" "we'll see because i'm going to be mission leader"  Rooster said "In your dreams bird boy" and you go sit down on the opposite side of him as Admiral Bates comes in and starts. 

When Maverick walked in you were shocked you had heard stories about him but had never met him in person. As Maverick spoke you found yourself looking over at Rooster from time to time who was glaring at Maverick. When you and Rooster first met you hated his guts, you never knew why you both hated each other he just had gotten on your nerves. Then one day everything changed it started small as giving small glances  to Rooster then any time you walked into the room your eyes would scan for him. You tried brushing your feelings off but it just didn't work. So when you both graduated Top Gun you were glad to not see him again until you did it was a few years back and your feelings came back stronger than ever but you masked it with a lot of teasing and competition. Skip to today and those feelings were still there it infuriated you why did you feel like this and you couldn't talk to anyone about it because you were scared your friends might tease you or worse tell Rooster about your feelings. 

As Maverick tested each and everyone in dog fighting the more competitive and stressed you got. Not once did you shoot Maverick down and you were pissed, it helped that no one else had won but you wanted to win. 

"Ok Rooster, Y/CS you're up" you get up and head to your plane but stopped Rooster before he got to his. "Just follow my lead" "No thanks" and he brushed passed you. While up in the sky any time you told Rooster to do something he'd do the opposite. This ended in you and him loosing and both of you having to do push ups "If you had just listened it would be Maverick down here and not us" You growl. "I don't take orders from you" "get your head out of your ass and be a team player" Rooster stood up "How about you be a team player. it's always you you you maybe try and not push people around" and he hit your shoulder making you stumble. "Your an ass" you say going to shower as everyone was finished for the day. 

The following day you sat in the waiting room as you had finished all your runs all ending with you doing push ups. The last group was up which was Hangman and Rooster which didn't end well as Rooster and Maverick broke the Hard Deck and could have been injured. After Maverick and Roosters tumble you were upset. The minute you saw Rooster land you ran out onto the tarmac "are you trying to get yourself killed?" "Why do you care?" Rooster says pushing past you. "Bradley Bradshaw you stop right now" "what do you want Y/N huh I bet you'd like it if I got kicked out" Rooster said pushing your buttons "God your such an idiot" "oh I'm the idiot what about you" "me you can't even seen what's in front of your face" "yeah, well at least I care about others" "I care about others" you yell after him "well you have a funny way of showing it. You're always a bitch" "God Damnit Bradley I Love you ok" that shut him up real quick.

"You l-love me" you freeze did you really just say that "Fuck" you curse. "Just forget I said anything" you say turning around and walking away but before you knew it Rooster had grabbed your arm and smashed his lips to yours at first it shocked you but then you relaxed and kissed back. 

You heard whooping and you two pulled apart. "Finally" Hangman said rolling his eyes "I thought you'd never admit it" "shut up" you grumble making Rooster chuckle. "Hey I love you too" you blush who knew Bradley Bradshaw would make you blush. 

After today you and Rooster dated and a few years down the line he proposed and of course you said yes but your banter and teasing never ceased, both of you were just as cocky as ever some say it got worse as you two got more serious.

[crowshoots]

@huntershowl said — " high roller, what just happened? "

ㅤㅤTHE MAN IN jesper's arms is still struggling. he's putting in a mighty good effort to try and get out, but his movements are getting sloppy, weak. the press jesper has on his neck is helping with that, and jesper presses in a little harder - both as a message, and a way to get him to go down faster. he does finally go slack, and jesper isn't too terribly gentle about the way they let him slip to the ground. after all, he'd hit jesper in the nose rather hard, and jesper doesn't want to think about the bruise that's going to take on tomorrow.

ㅤㅤ" well, " he says, brushing off his trousers as if he'd just tripped. " i'll have to stop buy and get more ammunition because of this. i thought i could delay it 'til tomorrow evening. "

ㅤㅤjesper crouches, then, turns over the man's forearm. there it is - a tattoo, birds in a wedge formation. johan kaddeck's kicking around his men, then. jesper's pretty sure she remembers one of the razorgull's lieutenants lingering around dreg territory rooftops recently - she remembers it because she'd thought it to be hellhound. willowy, lean, long black hair, dark eyes. the woman had turned and vanished over the top of the roof like a ghost, disappearing into nothing as the wind covered her leaving. " razorgulls, " he says, holding up the man's wrist to show seph.

ㅤㅤthey're still staring at him. expectantly, almost, like they're very much aware jesper had ignored their first question. she hasn't moved from where one of jesper's pistols wobbles on the ground, still faintly smelling like gunpowder. the barrel's likely still hot from the recent shot, but - jesper hadn't been the one to fire it.

ㅤㅤat least, not by hand.

ㅤㅤthe razorgulls were smart this one time. jesper's a plenty good fighter up close, but he has no qualms about sticking his pistol up against someone's rib as a threat. persephone's got their rifle, but they would use their hands in close combat. so these razorgulls focused their efforts on divesting jesper of his lovely guns, making the fight just bare fists and spare knives. three of them had taken jesper on at once, three more on persephone. jesper just remembers thinking: saints, if only i had my guns right now.

ㅤㅤboth of them had gone off.

ㅤㅤit had happened like a firework, two splintering shots in the night. the razorgulls reacted instantly - heads snapping around, taking in the noise. jesper had swung the instant their eyes came off him.

ㅤㅤ" oh, look, there's one bullet. " jesper slides on over to the spare shell he sees on the ground. " quite a bit of luck, that. misfire could've easily taken one of us out. " luck hasn't been on jesper's side for a very long time, but he leans steadily into the angle as he leans over, plucks up the bullet. jesper's guns don't misfire. persephone knows that, but still he avoids her gaze. "you wanna make sure those other guys are all razorgulls? "

[riddlerosehearts]

OC ask game!

i was tagged by @nerdalmighty! tysm for tagging me! 💖

going to talk about my tav, elenion, and will try not to ramble too much about them!

do they have any special hobbies or skills?

well, aside from being a skilled musician (he is a bard, after all), i guess the main thing would be that he's also a great storyteller! and he's very passionate about history and anthropology, so he reads and researches a lot and uses topics like historical figures and folk tales as inspiration for songs to write and stories to tell. needless to say the adventure he ends up on during the game gives him plenty of material, lol. OH and they've always had an affinity for the night sky and loved stargazing as well due to the influence of their mother, who's an astronomer.

do they have any unique scars, marks, or tattoos?

hmm, i don't imagine that they do! so i'll answer an extra question at the end since i don't have much of an answer for this one lol

what's their fighting style? do they stick to the back and wait for a strategic opening, or charge in guns blazing?

oh, they definitely try and stick to the back or the sidelines and rely on ranged spells and crowd control abilities, while also doing everything they can to buff their allies/debuff their enemies. they're very overly cautious because of something that happened in their past--specifically, they've always believed that their own lack of caution while using fire magic during a performance caused their father's death. so in combat they want to be able to keep their distance and carefully plan and strategize as much as possible.

what does their tent look like? what do they keep inside it?

ooh okay so i've actually thought a bit about this already because i came across a fun little template on here for describing your tav's tent and i kept meaning to fill it out. i even looked at photos of tents on pinterest for it and i decided that elenion's would have a design similar to this, but imagine all the gold accents are silver instead. inside, he'd keep his lute or his lyre (whichever one he's not using at the moment) and probably other instruments the party finds on the journey, alongside a big pile of books. included among that pile are several journals he's filled with a combination of song lyrics and research notes and random personal thoughts, and his father's old songbook which he carries with him wherever he goes. he's also got a small music box, and some skin/haircare products because yes he's on a super dangerous journey and has a parasite in his brain to worry about, but if he doesn't at least try to take care of his appearance he's sure he'll go insane faster than you could say "ceremorphosis".

they'd also have a little exterior area that's similar to shadowheart's--some nice decorative pillows and a stool beside a table with a quill and inkpot, even more books and journals stacked up, and sheet music on a tabletop stand. everything they need to be able to sit under the stars while they attempt to relax or work on things. they have their own telescope too, but unlike gale's, theirs is a much more compact telescope that's meant for travel. and finally they've been accumulating a small collection of artifacts that they find while traveling and think are interesting!

...and now i've just rambled on a bunch about what might be in my character's tent LOL, whoops! i'm adding one additional question and then i'll be done.

what song represents them best?

i've been listening to pluto by sleeping at last a lot lately because it makes me think of elenion, so i'm going to say that one! to explain why as briefly as possible, by the start of the game he's been very much stuck in his past and in self-destructive patterns for a long time and throughout the game's story he realizes that he needs to let go and break those patterns if he ever wants to actually heal and be happy. so i think this song represents that really well.

tagging @smooti if you'd like to do this for your tav, but no pressure! i don't have a lot of bg3 mutuals and i'm not sure who else has OCs for it that they'd like to talk about! so if anyone sees this and wants to participate just say i tagged you.

my questions for your OCs:

Where is your OC from?

Do they have a romantic partner (or multiple partners), and if so then what first drew them to their partner?

Do they have any unique scars, marks, or tattoos?

What does their tent look like? What do they keep inside it?

(you can also answer any of the other ones that i answered above if you'd like to!)

[sanriopinterest]

♡𝔼𝕩𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕙𝕠𝕟𝕠𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕙𝕦𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪 ♡

◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡♡⋆♡●⑅⃝◌◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡♡⋆♡●⑅⃝◌

(I did write this with a black reader in mind so ignore some descriptions if you want)

◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡♡⋆♡●⑅⃝◌◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡

The alarms sounded from outside, making it hard for me to go back to sleep. I grumbled and went back under my covers, (f/c) sheets now covering my vision. Just as I was drifting off to sleep the floor fell from under me. "Having a good mornin panty" Garterbelt asked.

"Y'know all I want out of life is to wake up next to some morning wood""Is there anything hard you won't refuse to jump on?" Stocking asked. "Oh stop it with the self righteous bullshit everyone's got a hobby" she answered. "Yeah thats true, I'll stick to my video games" I said waving my gameboy. "Don't you ever crave protein?""Don't you ever not?""Hey its good for you, ain't that right garter?" she asked." Shut up!" he yelled spreading spit everywhere.

{Your outfit, if you want make it (f/c)}

"Hey girls"What is it Panty?" "You ready to roll?"

◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡♡⋆♡●⑅⃝◌◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡

"Bingo! Found him!" Panty yelled as she hit him with see through." And knock out" I said pointing to his now mangled body."A toilet and a plumber dude?" Stocking questioned standing next to sharing my face of unamusement. "Yeah that's him""Are you sure?" I asked. I mean the dude was K.O'ed on the floor. "That's the fucker we're looking for, isn't that right asshole?" she stated taking off her panties and turning it into a gun.

"Tell me, do you feel lucky punk? Well do ya? Do ya". "That might not be him" Stocking stated the obvious." This is kinda embarrassing.. " I mumbled. Panty shot him three times before finally realizing, "I don't think it's him". "Colour me shocked" Stocking replied. "Told ya hoe" I replied tired.

"Please stop hitting me ot really hurts, I haven't done anything" The man started complaining. "Fuck, your a hot piece of ass""You are preaching to the vag sister" the woman interupted. "When were you invited?" I asked."Hang on to these for me" Panty said handing her panties to me."Why is it soaked already?" I asked. While she was doing her 'hobby' me and stocking went back to the house and ate sweets.

◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡♡⋆♡●⑅⃝◌◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡

"Well he's feeling lucky now""He was literally a shitty plumber who hangs in dirty ass bathrooms everyday" I said tired of her rants. "So true, and my pipes are totally clean""But your underwear isn't" I said giving back her previous pair. "How long have you been waiting to use that joke?""Ugg it seems like forever. I couldn't not, know what I mean?". The next things that I heard were garterbelt yelling and panty talking about how good he was in bed. I played with my braids.They were my favorite color,(f/c). 'I am so ready to go to bed' I thought.

It needed some sleep but Panty was taking up the whole couch. Garterbelt soon gave up and let us eat dinner, curry. "Your curry is unreal garter" Stocking complimented after stuffing herself full. "That's cause its black baby, you won't ever go back" he laughed. "So what's up for dessert?! Im guessing chocolate! For no reason in particular". "Was that a racist joke I heard?" I asked her.

◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡♡⋆♡●⑅⃝◌◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡♡◌⑅⃝●♡⋆

" We got angels man! Panty, Stocking, and (y/n) your up!" Garterbelt boomed."Are you talking about that walking turdsicle over there?""That goth chick next to it who obviously has daddy issues""And the sluggish, braided, chocolate beauty next to them?" The officers asked." It's time for us to flush the toilet".

{Your angel outfit, add hints of (f/c) somewhere}

{You know how this goes just add your self, you use your sleeves to make an bow and arrow).

◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡♡⋆♡●⑅⃝◌◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡♡⋆♡●⑅⃝◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡♡⋆

Panty shot a hole in the poo monsters head. Soon enough Stocking sliced the smelly thing and I delivered the final blow by shooting a heart shaped arrow into his skull. Everyone cheered for joy as poop fell down from above. "Gross~" I whined taking an umbrella from a nearby citzen. As poop rained down a single heaven coin fell from the sky. "Good angels you got a coin" Garterbelt said picking it up. "All that for just one" Panty stared. "Are you serious?" I asked looking at the coin covering stocking with the umbrella. "Yeah one closer so stop your bitch'n".

The giant bell wrung signalling its defeat. "Now keep your promise and go buy us those cakes, I need sweets stat""Yeah, yeah look I found a tasty treat for me to"panty said dragging along a boy. "It smells so bad" I gagged running to catch up. "You still have a punishment to face"Garterbelt said. "OOooh with bondage?""Now what would I get out of that?" he asked."Nasty" I mumbled.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Words: 1083

Yeah so wasn't much but we made it thx♡

- ℙ𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕔 🌊

Wattpad: @Vonlovesbread

[flaetsbnortoriginals]

Since some time ago I've talked about a random idea for a dungeon that I'd had for a while but don't think I'll be able to do right now, I'll do it again today.

But first, I need to talk about Eternal Darkness.

I first discovered TTRPG when a random guy in my school came up to me and asked me if I wanted to play. We weren't even friends. I don't even know what system it was - looking back, it feels more like one of those Lone Wolf style CYOA books, especially because it was one-on-one. I took that idea to my friends and we created new systems based on that one game, vague ideas from digital RPGs like Final Fantasy and Pokémon, and out of our buttholes.

Since we had no idea for what could be a setting for a RPG, we made them up, usually inspired on videogames. That was how I started playing a one-on-one game with a friend that was basically a TTRPG remake of Eternal Darkness.

Eternal Darkness is a 2002 survival horror videogame for the GameCube. It's mostly known for its sanity mechanic that often messed with the game in a meta way, like pretending to lower the volume or erase the saved files. But my favourite thing about it is that it took place over a very long time. It had four locations that were visited centuries apart by people in different moments of history. A buried temple in the Middle East is visited by an invading Roman soldier, then two millenia later by a Canadian firefighter putting out post-Gulf War fires. This meant that as you progressed the game you'd switch from swords to crossbows to flintlock pistols to assault rifles.

My idea from this is what I call a Time Funnel. A group of adventurers go down a terrible dungeon to destroy an undying evil. They fail. The next group takes a few centuries to show up, but at least they have better technology now.

I'll now proceed to vomit up some of the things I've thought up about this cenario...

I have some ideas about the setting. It would obviously need to be a forgotten island... close enough to shore that even ancient folks might feasibly end up there, but in a remote enough location that it would never become something well-known.

The concept for the evil that needs to be defeated could be:

the last holdout of an an Assassin's Creed-style precursor race

the seed for a very long term alien invasion force

why stray from the source? a temple to an ancient chtulhulesque may be perfectly fine

The rooms that are closer to the surface might become time-damaged once adventurers break into them, so the more you explore the dungeon, the easier time later adventurers will have. But this inverts as the heroes approach the core, as its evil actually becomes stronger when it's released and possibly starts infecting rooms that were previously safe and making defeated challenges come back more dangerous.

I've thought of the time periods as something like this:

Literal cavemen (sticks, stones)

Almost prehistoric (crappy swords, spears)

Ancient era (less crappy swords, bows)

Medieval (good swords, longbows, crossbows)

Age of piracy (fancy swords, flintlock pistols, muskets)

Victorian age (revolvers, shotguns)

Modern age (automatic guns, grenades)

Cyberpunk age (laserguns, drones)

Space opera age (nuke it from orbit)

Oh yeah, an idea I've had is that if the party dies enough times the last party is from a distant future in which the threatening entity has almost awaken, and you are humanity's last hope. So you've got the best technology a perfect future civilization can muster, but the enemies have also become equally powerful. I'm not sure if that kind of shift would work; might be a cool capstone if a campaign lasted that long.

Problems I foresee, however:

This definitively requires a OSR/NSR like system, and I'm not sure how to mechanically differenciate a crappy Bronze Age sword from a less crappy Iron age sword, for instance. Simply adding damage would create a power creep that makes modern weapons too powerful, while tactical advantadges might make the whole thing too complex too quickly.

In a regular funnel, when a character dies, a new one immediately replaces it. But this setting absolutely requires that a character is not replaced until a new expedition centuries down the line. What do the players of downed characters do?

Fine-tuning the difficutly would be paramount, and I'm not good at all at it. Although I imagine erring in the side of too difficult would still result in an interesting name, albeit maybe not a satisfying one.

The setting essentially required that everything happens in the dungeon, with no encounters with friendly NPCs whatsoever to break the tension. I fear that this might quickly become tiresome. Would exploring rooms without breaks still be fun just because now you have a rifle instead of a crossbow? (I do have a related idea in which there is an entire island with factions and stuff, but that's so much more complicated that it's basically a different idea.)

So... a cool idea, not one that I'm confident I could pull of now, or even in the foreseeable future. So instead I post it on Tumblr to throw it out across the winds.

[amrv-5]

HI PARKER!!! trope meme ask:

time loops/time wonkiness, modern AU, noir AU (I know the answer but STILL), genderswap/genderfuckery, major character death, there was only one bed

LISAAAAAAAA these are all so GOOD????? THANK YOU!!!!!!!! This is JUST what I needed to focus on rn AHHHHHH. So good. So good. All answers are MASH btw of course. I got a one track brain rn:

Time loops/time wonkiness:

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

Yes. Yes. Love. Yes. Figurative time loops or time dilation or whatever? Where it just FEELS like things are taking forever but they aren’t? Love it. Literal time fuckery? Love it even more. I particularly love to think about the idea of a time loop in MASH as it relates to the sort of meta-angle of syndication. The idea that these characters are all, in some way, trapped reliving the same days of the war over and over for as long as we are watching them…that’s the stuff. Invokes something interesting to me about viewership / media voyeurism that I haven’t really pulled apart but. Fun. Makes me think. Love to play with. Ripe for tragic effect in-fic, fascinating at a meta-level. Fun fun fun fun fun.

Modern AU:

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

Hard no, I say, writing one. 

To be fair I only started playing with the idea to see if I thought it could be done. Generally my opinion of a modern MASH AU is that it divorces the characters from the circumstances that shape them so entirely that it might as well be playing with OCs. They are so deeply the products of their time and place that I really hate to see them taken out of their context. 

…That said, I’m finding that the modern AU I was chopping at started to work when I shoved them into a desperate modern situation. Instead of sticking them in the front lines of a land war, I shoved them into the front lines of modern American health care. Hawkeye and BJ as trauma/CT surgeons fighting a losing battle against the crushing bureaucracy of the American medical industry kind of…works? IMO? Not nearly as well as their original context, but it does allow Hawkeye to be desperate and angry and disgusted by the perversion of his profession for the profit of massive corporate interests, and it lets BJ be silently resigned to hell, and the both of them are trapped for a certain number of years in a way by medical debt and the fact that what the hell do you do if you quit being a surgeon, when so much of your life and identity revolves around your career? It works because it lets them field despair and lean on each other and shove against massive faceless machines of injustice that profit off exploitation of their skills. Tl,dr; I’m a hypocrite for disliking modern AUs, it’s true, I admit. I'll never say never, but it'd have to be done really intentionally to appeal to me, I think.

Noir AU:

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

LOVE!!!!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!! I think it’s soooo sexy. I love noir, I’m a huge Raymond Chandler fan, and kind of subscribe to his writing approach in that frequently vibes and images are more the point of noir than watertight plot. There is very little I enjoy more than the type of stylized, image-focused writing that noir invites. I’ve been hacking away at a noir Beejhawk AU (AS YOU KNOW!!!!!!!! AH!!!!! I am working on. So many things. Help) and a consistent source of fun has been writing these smoky, dim, tense, sexy, ambient scenes where everybody’s circling each other and nobody is on quite the same page. Lots of Hawkeye standing around being lean and sharp and clever and melancholy, and lots of BJ being, and I’ve code-named him the Jackal in this fic where he’s a rouge and disillusioned beat cop with a gun to his head, sort of gleefully sadistic in moments. We know he’s got an in-canon capacity for violence that concerns and upsets him, and it’s been fun to let him take the limiters off and go a little wild with it. And of course how does guilt come back into play, because you KNOW it’s going to be there for him. Waiting. Always. Especially when he initially meets Hawk as a bit of an antagonist figure. God I gotta get back to writing this.

Genderswap/gender fuckery:

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

YES!!! No. Yes. [Parker is picky as usual alert] SOMETIMES I love it and sometimes it’s meh. I LOVE it when it seeks out to agitate borders of heteronormativity and make things queer. I think it’s soooo fun to get into characters’ psychology (obviously) and I love how many ways that gender swapping or gender fuckery can open itself up to questioning characters’ internal biases and assumptions. If it's just to make a gay ship straight w/no underlying interest in how that would change things, then nah.

That said I think BJ and Hawk are both sooooo fun to get genderfucky with. I think BJ is fun to use to see how he reacts to tearing down some of his intense 50s gender role feelings, and Hawkeye and his whole breeding kink (sorry) etc., so much fun. Drag is fun, gender fuckery is fun, crossing borders is fun, violating gender norms rules and is so cool and fun. I love queer people actually. Love to see it in fic. GET WEIRD W IT! I’ve decided this is actually a solid yes now that I’ve typed it out. GET WEIRD!!!!! I WANNA READ IT!!!!

Major character death: 

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

NOOOOO AUUUUUGHHHHH. I will personally probably never write it (if it’s not temporary a la vampire!Hawk fic), but I think it CAN be done well but ouuuughhhhh. Hurts. Makes me soooo sad. I’m sure I’ve seen it done well but ohhhhhhhhhh.

There was only one bed:

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

Answered elsewhere but. I’ll say again that I FUCKING LOVE IT. Love pics that really delve into physical affection and one bed is soooo great for just. Everything about that. Accidental cuddling. Sharing space. Waking up wrapped in each other…..ooohhhhhhh I love. I love. 

Thanks AGAIN for this ask it was soooooo fun to get to really sit down and think through these!!!!!!!!!!!

[shy-the-schizophrenic]

Nope 2 issues. I'll explain.

Dishonesty: the lying about the cigarette. That was a big fight. The constant gaslighting and not in a funny way. You have used my shitty memory against me many times. Such as when you gaslight me, the fact that I can show you cold hard proof and you still stick to your guns, no matter what. I feel like you've only actually just been saying what you think I've wanted to hear to get me to stop either picking little fights or to avoid any further confrontation. Deleting messages between you and other women.

2. Disloyalty: Porn. The fact that you tricked me into being the man of my dreams by putting on a facade. You continue to lie and get infuriated when I don't believe your search history on the internet, and dates. The fact that from day one I don't get in relationships with people who watch porn. You've see the scars on my body. You knew, and you did it any ways. The fact that you weren't getting sex for a we days out of the week you ran to tinder and porn. Right there kris. That part is absolutely even more hurtful and terrifying. You had videos of me. Ones of you fucking me in the ass and I see you're super into that shit. But you chose not to get off to your beautiful girl. You'd rather jerk off to all these fake bitches in porn, how do I recover from you of all people choosing to do something so intimate at the thought of another woman besides your lover? You said ibwas the most beautiful girl in the world but yet when it came down to jacking off, you don't even bother using any of my porn I've made or we've made. You swear you don't watch thirst traps on Instagram. But your history shows your likes. Should I believe you over those too? Your finger slipped? You thought it was something different? No. It's none of those. It also shows me that when I'm not available, you're looking. The bathroom was a big fight. Because I had asked you for months to take it down. This goes into disloyalty because it's porn. And you tried to gaslight me by saying there was no porn at all on the walls. Just cute anime girls. Then I went to the bathroom and pointed at one on the ceiling of a girl eating another girl's pussy. Then tried to do it even more by saying there was only some "ALMOST HENTAI". I'm sorry. Since when did squirting stuff in big anime tits, and girls literally easing pussy. He refused for so long to say that it was porn. And the went on to say yeah the ceiling was the only place with hentai. I'm like no! My have kyphosis of the spine and I don't really look up to extent anymore. So I only saw what was on the walls. Then he's like oh well fine there were like 1 or 2 pics. Like this fucking dude. I'm so tired of this.

You tell me you want the fights to stop. I do too! But the ball is 100 percent in your court. Has been for a whole. The only thing I can do as my part is to not start fights is to not yell. But everything else is on you. The only subjects I've been bringing up and fighting over are related to disloyalty and dishonestly. I haven't asked you to change a damn bit of yourself beside wanting that name above your dick covered. You would hate it if whenever you saw my coochie, you saw my exs name.

[heybaetae]

kelli :( not much of an update but it's been 3 days now and he hasn't reached out, which makes me think he doesn't want to clear things up cause there's nothing to say. he's probably sticking with that he did nothing wrong cause we're not exclusive. cause otherwise he would try to talk to me. he knew i was upset after he answered and he rather let me sit here with that. honestly it's killing me. my body is reacting like im going through a breakup. ive been crying, i cant eat, i can barely sleep but all i want to do is sleep cause it hurts to be awake. i got too attached even though he isn't mine. i just needed more time before i felt ready enough to meet (i dont feel my best rn and dont want him to see that) but i also get his side. he's shown he'll come see me asap but i keep putting it off. and i told him my feelings cause i was scared i'd miss my chance when i started feeling him get distant (thats probably when he was messing around). i should've just waited until i was ready to let him come see me, now i feel like it's all my fault for jumping the gun and got mad cause i thought it was only me he was interested in. i know i could easily message him but i think my pride is too hurt. he was supposed to send me a letter too, said he wrote some important things & i don't think i'll see it now. my bday is in 4 days, if i dont hear anything by then i'll just accept its over 😔

oh my dear 😔 i’m really truly so sorry the situation has come to this moment of uncertainty and pain for you. i wish i knew what to say to make you feel lighter about it, but having gone through the same emotions you’re feeling i know it likely won’t help much. when your heart is broken like this, few things can help fix it more than time. have patience and allow yourself to feel what you feel. eventually you’ll manage to pick yourself up from it and i know you can! i hate to agree that maybe your resistance to meeting lead him to question things and do what he did. but you had your reasons for that and i don’t think you should place all the blame on yourself. it’s just a complicated thing, especially at long distance. it’s hard to find a common ground when there’s so much space between you and if it’s not meant to be…well. i wish he’d communicated better too. you deserved that much. maybe he could still reach out and you’ll be able to have the conversation you need to have. until then, please take care of yourself (eat!!!) and i’ll keep thinking of you! 💕

[phoenixwatchesmovies]

What I'm Watching: June 2023

Oh yeah, I...uh...suppose I haven't done this yet...

Sailor Moon Crystal

I remember I got about halfway through the first episode of this several years ago and just... didn't go any further. The OG was one of my favorite things as a kid, and Crystal didn't hold a candle to it. I decided to give it another shot, tho, and I gotta say. I was wrong. I have a couple gripes with it, to be frank, like occasional awkward camera work, some random shots that just don't make any sense, and wonky lines in the transformation sequences that I couldn't unsee. My nitpicks are more a matter of preference and comparison, such as Crystal's bright and clean look versus the original's richer tone. They're both beautiful, but I like best what I know best. This one sticks to the manga and thus has a shorter run, so it moves at a much quicker pace. Compare the 13-episode seasons to the 200 episodes of the original, and I don't think I need to elaborate on that point. Also, goshdarn holy shit, I'm still into Sailor Moon x Tuxedo Mask, but I'll be damned if I wasn't also gunning for Usagi and Haruka this time around. By the time I finished the series, I was bummed there was no more, so that counts as a win. And yep, I cried a couple times.

Sailor Moon

Now be serious, how was I supposed to watch the reboot and NOT make my way back to the classic? This was my entire childhood, and it's still my jam. Admittedly, the structure works better for younger audiences, but who cares. Given that this is my second rewatch as an adult, I'm pretty secure in saying I'm still here out of genuine enjoyment and not simple nostalgia. I mentioned above that this one is about 200 episodes long, and now that I'm reading the manga as well, it's clear how much was added to bulk up the show. I can think of three additional subplots off the top of my head just in season one. We also get a lot more moments to get attached to the characters, though, so I don't see this as a problem. I'm still working my way through this, so it's not time for final thoughts yet.

We're The Millers

Don't really have much to say about this one. It's fine. Road trip stories tend to be entertaining, so I wasn't disappointed. I'm mostly amused to bring this full circle and actually watch the movie, as the closest I've ever gotten to it until now was everyone else watching it without me while I was passed out drunk in the bathroom. Good times.

A Nightmare On Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge

Boy oh boy, do I have Thoughts™ about this one, and they'll be in their own post as soon as I stop procrastinating.

***

And that's it for June. And now that we're halfway through July, I don't guess it'll be very long before I'm back here. Toodles.

[a-man-outof-time]

Red Zone // Steve, Tony, Sam, Sharon, et al.

[Start date: August 4, 2019]

All Avengers and affiliates:

I've just been made aware that a group of highly-trained, possibly enhanced operatives infiltrated the CDC in Atlanta less than an hour ago. Our most recent intel confirms that they've stolen the smallpox sample housed there and are currently headed westward. Our best guess right now is that they're planning to use it as a bioweapon.

Agent Carter and I are preparing a jet to track the operatives and recover the smallpox sample. This is an all-call to anyone who can assist us. Wheels up in 15; we will rendezvous with anyone who can't be here by then.

Sam Wilson

---

Steve looked up from the message and quirked an eyebrow at Sam.

"You didn't sign it 'Captain America.'"

"Let's see if I earn it first," Sam said.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this jittery with nerves; he usually handled them better, but now he couldn't settle, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he continuously looked from Steve to the Quinjet and back. It wasn't just the stakes of the mission that had him on edge, but the hard fact that this was going to be his big reveal as Captain America.

"It's not too late for me to give this back to you," Sam said. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the shield magnetized between his shoulders. Steve smiled and shook his head.

"I got an upgrade," he said, raising his left hand to indicate the circlet around his wrist. "It's yours."

Sam breathed a laugh and shook his own head, still a little incredulous, then saw Sharon exiting the Quinjet and walking toward them.

"We're all set, Cap," she said to Sam. Then the smirked at Steve. "What are we supposed to call you?"

Steve shrugged. He still hadn't thought of a call sign. He probably should have posed the question in that massive text chat since everyone seemed to know about his night job now.

---

“Well, clearly he’s outgrown the campy patriotic superhero stuff,” Tony said over the comms. He’d invited himself into the channel since he was already en route with an armor. “Has to have a bite to it — I’m RSVP-ing, by the way, if it wasn’t obvious — yeah, think dramatic Oscar-baiting one-word movie titles. Dissident. Maverick. Rogue. Nomad. Something like that.”

---

Matt felt the burner phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out, smirking as he listened to Steve's text.

"On our way out for that HYDRA mission. You still in?"

Oh yeah, he was in. Foggy was going to be pissed with him for leaving the office early, but the offer to go out and punch Nazis was just too inviting.

[That depends, do you do pick ups?] He sent back.

---

"Isn't Rogue one of the X-Men?" Sam asked. Sharon laughed in response.

"I like Maverick," she said. "Very Top Gun."

"Great," Steve said. He was newly occupied with his phone. "Throw them around, see what sticks."

He finished typing out a message and then looked up at Sam and Sharon. "We have someone to pick up out of Hell's Kitchen."

[ Steve's text to Matt ] We'll be there in 20. Let me know on which rooftop we can drop a line.

---

[Matt | @Steve Rogers ] I'll be there. How about Fogwell's Gym?

---

[ Steve | @Matt Murdock ] perfect

---

Sharon and Sam exchanged a glance. They'd long ago figured out that Steve had been running with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, but none of them had talked about it in any detail.

"That's a team of six," Sam said. "Against an unknown number of possibly enhanced people with a potential bioweapon."

"Six of us fought an alien army," Steve said.

"I'm pretty sure first responders were also there," Sharon said, but then she looped an arm through Sam's. "More people may come. And even if they don't, we're some of the best of the best."

She tugged on Sam, and he followed her with a laugh toward the jet. Steve smiled and fell into step behind them.

"You riding with us, Iron Man?" Sam asked over the comms.

---

"You riding with us, Iron Man?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got my own ride. I’ll race you there,” Tony said, and not entirely in jest. If he did get closer before the others, then he could have JARVIS start gathering on-site intel on the place and how many hostiles awaited them.

“By the way, for future reference, I’m worth like, at least twelve super people.”

---

[Peter I @Steve Rogers] Suiting up, just warn me when you are in NYC and I’ll hitch a ride. You don’t even need to land.

---

[ Steve | @Peter Parker ] We're en route toward Hell's Kitchen. I'll leave the door open for you.

---

[Logan I @Steve Rogers] Just send me coordinates to meet up with you. I had some enhancements added to my bike.

---

Sam and Sharon took the helm for final flight checks.

"We know you are," Steve said frankly to Tony over the comm. Sam saw Sharon playfully roll her eyes, and he snorted lightly in response. If Steve sensed their silent ribbing, he didn't address it, even when Sam leaned over to smirk at him.

"I have Daredevil, Spider-Man, and Wolverine confirmed to rendezvous at Fogwell's Gym in Hell's Kitchen," Steve told Sam, completely straight-faced for about half a second before he cracked a smile.

Sharon released a blunt, "huh," and Sam turned back around to face her.

"What's up?"

"Unless one of you weighs 350 more pounds than I'd thought, we're over on weight," she said.

Steve's frown was almost audible. "Will it slow us down?"

"Not at all. Even once we're full up, this jet can still go supersonic with no problem."

"Probably some leftover gear I missed," Sam said. "I'll unload it when we get back."

---

Sam was really hesitant to respond to Captain Falcon's message about the mission - none of the Avengers really knew he was staying at the compound, and he thought it might we weird to just Show Up without warning. Still, he suited up and talked to Karolina about joining. They only had a few minutes to decide.

He wanted to walk right up to the team very confidently at the quinjet and say 'we're ready for the mission!' but then once he saw Sam, Sharon, and Steve getting ready, he panicked. Somehow in that moment, he looked for a place to hide, which led to an alternate entrance.

So instead of making a grand entrance for the first time as Sam Alexander, Black Nova of the Avengers, he was stuck inside the storage compartment with Karolina.

"Oh man...I think we're heading off soon. I'm so sorry, I panicked. Everything was happening so quickly!" He hid his face in his hands out of embarrassment.

Worldmind assured him that this sort of thing happened a lot to Richard when he first started on his own, but that wasn't very comforting.

---

Karolina gave Sam a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Hey, it's okay Sam. As long as we're on the plane, we're good."

She shot him some fingerguns. "Plus, hiding from adults? kind of my specialty."

It was hard to see him in the dim light of the storage compartment, but she resisted the urge to use her powers. The adults would absolutely notice if she suddenly went full rainbow brite inside the plane, and she didn't want to risk getting kicked off the mission. She wasn't exactly a trained superhero like the rest of them were; they probably wouldn't want her coming along if they knew.

Karolina already couldn't help but feel out of place next to Sam, in his shiny Nova uniform. It wasn't like she had a superhero costume she could throw on when they got the call, so she'd just gone in her yoga clothes. She'd have to try and get a uniform if this whole hero thing worked out; punching Nazis in leggings and a sweatshirt full time seemed kind of lame.

"You know, I've never really done a mission like this before." She said. "I mean, I used to beat up bad guys with the other Runaways, but they usually came to us."

---

[ Steve | @Matt Murdock @Logan @Peter Parker ] ETA 2 minutes

With final checks completed, they departed the hanger and jetted for Hell's Kitchen. Steve shot off quick ETA texts to Peter, Logan, and Matt, then headed back to the bay door. They were violating several air traffic regulations with this maneuver, but it was the fastest way to pick up the rest of the team and get going. At Sam's signal, Steve opened the rear bay door and dropped a braided steel ladder out the back.

---

A light thump on the roof moments before a red and blue clad figure crawled in from the top of the opening and across the ceiling. “I always am up for punching Nazis. Thanks for inviting me to the party.”

---

Matt could hear the jet from almost five miles out, as it flew into Manhattan. Whatever military grade rig the Avengers traveled around in didn't seem to be much quieter than a regular plane, and the ETA text Steve sent him as they were closing in on Fogwell's gym made the vigilante laugh.

The vibrations from the engine seemed to shake the air itself, vibrating the glass in the surrounding buildings as it came to hover above Daredevil. Another costume had shown up to wait with him, no doubt answering the same call from Sam. He wasn't much of a talker, it seemed; the two of them exchanged a curt nod, but otherwise waited in silence.

Matt climbed into the jet and greeted Steve with a pat on the shoulder. "Thanks for taking me along," he grinned. "This should be interesting."

"Thanks for inviting me to the party."

The vigilante nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized there was someone on the ceiling above him- Spider-man, if he had to guess. He should have picked up on the that, but the background noise from the jet must have been messing with his radar sense.

"Fuck, kid, you scared me."

---

"Thanks for coming along," Steve said to both Matt and Peter. He nodded to Logan as he also boarded the jet, then pulled the ladder up and secured the bay door. "Iron Man flew ahead to scout out what we're up against."

He scanned the occupants of the jet. If they hadn't all met, they had at least all heard of each other, or so Steve was fairly certain. And it was a solid team. He returned to his seat and invited the rest of the team to buckle in as Sam gained altitude and hit the throttle, heading westward.

---

Matt buckled in with the others and spent the majority of the flight trying to tune out the roar of the jet engines in his ears. God, he never remembered how much he hated flying until he was stuck having to do it. At least he'd get to punch some Nazis at the end of this.

He tried to focus in on his teammates, and the steadiness of their heartbeats. Sam and Steve were as calm as ever, though he supposed that was to be expected from seasoned heroes. Spider-man was a bit more jittery, and Logan...well, Logan was pretty much impossible to get a read on.

It was the two extra heartbeats Matt picked up on that really caught him off guard. There were only six of them in the cabin, and yet he clearly heard the telltale sounds of eight people on board the jet. They were fluttery, nervous sounding, and coming from the other side of the wall- cargo hold maybe?

"Ah, fuck." Matt muttered. This could be a problem.

He unbuckled himself and made his way towards the front of the plane, where Sam was driving. Keeping his balance was a bit difficult, given their current speed, but he found his footing fairly quickly.

"Hey, oh Captain my Captain," Matt said, leaning casually over the back of Sam's seat. "You've got two stowaways in the cargo hold."

---

Sam jerked around and raised his eyebrows at Daredevil.

"Um. Excuse me?"

He glanced at Sharon, who immediately unbuckled and strode back to the cargo hold. She drew her sidearm on her way there, and she could hear someone else -- probably Steve -- coming to join her. She wasn't too worried about two stowaways given her present company, though, so she opened the cargo hold.

Inside, she saw Nova and a teenager she didn't recognize.

"Hi." She returned her gun to its holster and propped his hands on her hips, trying and failing not to smile. How very on-brand. "Were you planning on staying in here the whole time?"

---

They were about 20 minutes out from the eastern California border when Sharon swore loudly and turned in the copilot's seat to face the rest of the team.

"Social media feeds and local news stations are starting to report a rapidly spreading illness." She locked eyes with Steve. "Like 28 Days Later rapid. No one's sure yet what it is or how it's spread, but people who were complaining of flu-like symptoms this morning are now covered in purulent red rashes, in a whole lot of pain, and experiencing symptoms similar to anaphylaxis."

She watched Steve raise his chin slightly, as he often did when he mentally transitioned into full battle-readiness. Illness was one thing she knew could be a sore spot with him, but he hadn't had so much as a head cold since 2011, so as far as they knew, he was in the clear.

A lot of them might not be, though. And Sharon, for one, hadn't expected a biological weapon to already be in play, if that was what this was.

"Tony," Steve said, "what do you see on your end?"

___

“I wouldn’t get super excited about whatever’s spreading on the ground,” Tony said. Social media highlights and headlines flashed across the HUD, lingering only long enough for Tony to get ahold of the situation, which didn’t take long. “I think that’s just previews. I was able to tap into their communication channels and I’m using that to triangulate their current location.”

Tony sent them the coordinates he had.

“From what I gather, the plan is to launch the sample onto the thermosphere, just past the Kármán line, then use the Earth’s rotation to spread the contagion. The entire planet could be vulnerable in a matter of hours.”

---

With a definite location to aim for, Sam poured on the speed toward the coordinates Tony had provided. None of them were particularly surprised that the bad guys were hiding in a mountain, but the plan Tony related was more than a little rattling. As they approached the coordinates, Sam was almost underwhelmed by the face of the compound as it came into view: it wasn't much larger than a standard storefront. He was nevertheless willing to bet that a good portion of it was underground.

"Ste--uh" -- Sam wracked his brain for the field names Tony had thrown out earlier -- "Nomad. Grab the gas masks out of the hold. Let's stay ahead of this."

He landed about two miles away from the compound, then stood and turned to face the team: his team, for the moment. Sharon stood to his left; Steve, bizarrely, was among their motley crew, waiting intently for Sam to call the shots.

"Nomad. Winter Soldier. Wolverine. Iron Man. Secure all the bioweapons and personnel you can find. Bonus points if you find an antidote. Thirteen will lead Daredevil and Spider-Man in evac until hazmat arrives. Nova and Lucy" -- he made deliberate eye contact with each of them -- "you're with me on air support. If Iron Man's team calls for back-up, you're on point to back them up."

(God. He hoped that was the right call. Both of them could fly faster than he could, and he'd be damned if he separated them.)

"Y'all ready?"

---

“Almost,” Tony said over the comms, adding a small pause for suspense. “First I’d like the record to reflect that I came up with Steve’s new field name.”

Hopefully that would add some levity to this whole thing. Tony could tell Sam was nervous — or, at any rate, he expected him to be.

“Now I’m good. Team Iron Man and the Ironettes, I will be seeing you on the ground.”

---

“If you are all done being fangirls about each other . . “ Logan rolled his eyes at the comments. “If we run into any loose or exposed bio-hazard should leave it to me.” He’d yet to find something that could slow him down for long.

---

Matt made a face when Steve handed him the gas mask, but accepted the item without comment. Cutting off his sense of taste and smell was going to put him at a disadvantage out there, but he guessed anything was better than being dead.

"Nothing like a bioweapon to keep things interesting." He sighed.

"Thirteen will lead Spidey and Daredevil in evac until hazmat arrives."

"On it." Matt said, popping the billy clubs from the holster on his leg. He snapped the two ends together with practiced ease, and activated the cable mechanism inside. Between buildings would probably be the fastest way to move down there.

"Spider-man and I can swing down- I'll take Agent Thirteen."

“First I’d like the record to reflect that I came up with Steve’s new field name.”

"I dig it, not much of a Nomad when you have a team though." Matt laughed.

---

"Nova and Lucy, you're with me on air support. If Iron Man's team calls for back-up, you're on point to back them up."

"Aye aye, Captain." Karolina said, giving Sam an awkward salute. As nervous as she was, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement at the sound of her codename being used by actual superheroes.

She pulled off her bracelet and let the familiar warmth of her glow calm her nerves.

"Sorry if I'm blinding everyone in here." she added, trying to keep the glare to a minimum.

---

Sam was a bit nervous. He knew his helmet would filter everything, but bioweapons were serious... He would be staying in the air with Karolina and the other Sam, so he was comfortable at least. Worldmind scans better while he's in the sky anyway. He can keep watch and scan for threats the ground forces may not pick up on.

Honestly, the most comforting part of all was seeing his heroes in action again. He trusted Sam's plan. He trusted the smaller teams.

"We won't let you down, Captain Falcon, sir!" He smiled.

---

Sam smiled back at Nova and tried not to think too hard about the last time he'd flown with Riley. How blasé they'd been.

"I know you won't," he said. He dropped a hand on each of their shoulders as he followed Nova and Lucy (LSD in his head, but he could rib her on that later) out of the jet.

"Let's hit the skies."

---

Sharon looped an arm around Daredevil and watched Sam and the teens take flight, then tightened her hold on instinct as he rappelled them both toward the center of town.

"Hazmat should be here in about twenty minutes," she said over the comms. "Then we can back up the ground team."

They could have used hazmat twenty minutes ago, by the look of it. People covered in scarlet rashes were pounding on locked doors begging for entry, presumably because their families or landlords had locked them out. Others were laying across benches or tucked into alleyways, too sick to stand. Possibly unconscious.

Sharon quietly decided that everyone was alive until proven otherwise.

"Spidey, can you head to the hospital, find out what you can? Daredevil and I will try to shelter these people."

---

Steve raised an amused eyebrow at Matt as he pulled on his gas mask and they disembarked the jet.

"Sam technically isn't a captain, but here we are," he said to Matt.

Behind them, the jet automatically shimmered out of sight as the retro-reflective paneling kicked on. He could barely see Karolina against the clear, brightly-lit sky, but both Sam's were clearly visible shades above them. Much of the team were people he'd only worked with once or twice in the field, but the gist of it was familiar. He wasn't reassured by that, necessarily, given the circumstances they were working against -- but he felt competent. Capable. Like he was doing what he was supposed to be doing instead of skulking around looking for trouble.

He nodded at Tony as they approached him, then at the double steel doors beyond.

"Lead on."

Between the four of them, opening the front door was almost insultingly easy, as was dispatching the guards who'd been waiting for them. Almost, but it seemed unlikely that a group that could break into and out of the CDC in the time they did it wouldn't have had at least an inkling who was going to pursue them.

"Cap," Steve said, "it's a set-up."

Sam was silent for a fraction of a second longer than Steve would have expected, but when he answered, he was definitive.

"Support team, get back to the ground team. Nova, Lucy, and I will land when y'all rendezvous. What's it looking like in there?"

"Too easy," Steve said. They were making suspiciously good time now as they drove deeper into the compound. "We're following the breadcrumbs for now -- "

"I'm losing you," Sam cut in, and the connection was indeed garbled. "Keep going. We're right behind you."

They made it to a reinforced door deep in the facility, the minotaur in the labyrinth. For the hell of it, Steve tried to open it, and -- confirming his suspicions immediately -- it opened. The door was barely ajar before something exploded at their feet, emitting a cloud of scarlet gas. Immediately after that, a booted foot came down hard on the back of Steve's knee, followed by a backhand to the face that felt like getting hit by rebar.

Had to be Rumlow; Steve remembered the gear from over a year ago. Rumlow meant HYDRA.

HYDRA meant Tony was in danger.

---

Tony grabbed ahold of Rumlow and flew him straight against a wall with all the force of his irritation at the fact that he seemed to be one step behind them rather than one step ahead.

”Stark — can’t see your long face but I definitely feel it,” Rumlow croaked out with a pained laugh. ”Not a fan of surprises, are you?”

“I saw you coming from a mile,” Tony said. He activated one of his wrist rockets (more extreme than what he’d been using so far, but then again, Rumlow did land pretty hard on Steve, so...).

Error message.

He already had his fist pointed at Rumlow, so turning the dud into an armored punch was easy.

“You guys can handle this low life,” Tony said over the comms, then flew upwards. “Secure your masks. I’ll make sure that this funky smoke doesn’t sneak outside.”

And then, only to Steve, while JARVIS ran diagnostics on the armor’s electronics, “I didn’t actually see him coming,” Tony said.

Hopefully Steve would understand the source of Tony’s anxiety without him having to phrase it. Rumlow was on every most-wanted list on Earth; he should have lit up on the HUD like a Christmas tree. And he hadn’t. JARVIS, or Tony himself, could be compromised.

---

Steve's hand flew to his face as soon as he was hit; the blow hurt, but worse was the chilling fear that the gas mask might have come unseated. It hadn't, but now he couldn't see for the smoke that filled the room.

"Me, neither," Steve hissed into the mask. Even if the room wasn't already flooded crimson, he'd be seeing red. Shield now in hand, he ran toward where Tony had slammed Rumlow to the wall.

"Wolverine," he said, "who else is in here?"

"Just me," someone said -- a familiar female voice, even muffled by what had it be a mask, from clear across the room.

Against his better judgement, Steve whirled toward her voice. Rumlow was Cynthia Schmidt's muscle; she was undoubtedly the ringleader of this operation.

He heard something click shut -- a briefcase? A computer? -- before she spoke again.

"Can't stick around," she said. "Give Iron Man my regards."

Behind him, Rumlow took a few heavy steps. Steve spun back around, activated his shield, and was smugly satisfied to hear the distinct whir and buzz of hard light against Kevlar.

"Like hell you can't," he growled.

---

There were a lot more people outside the compound than had been there when they'd arrived 25 minutes ago. They must have been hiding a ways away and only mobilized once the heroes had split up.

"Sam? Where did this come from?"

"No idea," Sam said, clearly pissed. "I didn't think to scan infrared or UV in the middle of the day. They could have been cloaked the whole time and I never caught it."

Sharon frowned. "Who has tech so good even Wolverine and Iron Man didn't catch anything?"

"Tony does," Steve interjected between heavy breaths. Dropping field names wasn't necessarily unusual for him, but Sharon did get nervous when he immediately followed up with, "Does anyone have eyes on him?"

"Is he not in there with you?" Sam asked, landing a few yards away on top of two of the soldiers now guarding the compound.

Steve didn't answer. Sharon didn't have any choice but to let it go as she engaged the nearest guard; questions wouldn't get her inside any faster.

---

Sam didn't wait for Steve to respond.

"Nova, Lucy -- get inside and back them up," Sam said. "Daredevil, Spider-Man, Thirteen -- don't let anyone else into the building."

As far as he'd seen when they'd arrived, there was only the one visible door, but he wasn't going to miss any more obvious details. He deployed Redwing to make sure no one else was flooding the facility. Behind him, gunshots fired, followed by Sharon to him, dual-wielding handguns and gunning down exposed throats and the backs of knees as she went. They locked eyes, and then Sam turned his back to the fray and locked the wings into a shield, where Sharon took cover to reload.

"I've lost sight of Daredevil," she breathed. "I think he might be down."

"Great," Sam snarled. He checked the Redwing interface on his arm and took manual control until he could find Daredevil.

"Spidey," Sam said, "I need you on Daredevil. Get him out of here."

He exchanged another look with Sharon. She nodded, firearms at the ready, and he whirled back around and brought his own weaponry to bear.

"Nomad, Nova and Lucy are coming for you. Confirm."

---

The smoke had gotten dense enough for Tony to visually pick up the patterns of its movement, so he followed it along by flight to the only ceiling vent. By the time he got there, the original idea — completely sealing the place so that the gas couldn't escape at all — struck him as one of those simple stupid risky things he was willing to expose himself to, but maybe not the team who was in here with him.

If he coordinated well enough with the teams outside, maybe he could find a way to air this place out without putting anyone at risk.

“JARVIS, get me data on the wind patterns outside—“ JARVIS never answered. The HUD suddenly went dark and for a split-second, the armor was completely dead in the air, then in free fall.

After crashing on the ground, Tony allowed himself to groan from the pain since now there was really no chance anyone in the team could hear him anyway. His communications were out. Visibility was very impaired — he could only see through the eye slits of the helmet, and without the visual environment provided by the HUD, he started to feel claustrophobic. The air filtration systems were offline as well, and Tony had a limited supply of oxygen. Soon he would have to either let outside air in, or he would end up suffocating.

The HUD suddenly blinked back to life, but it didn’t come with JARVIS’ soothing presence. The words Execute Program? flashed in front of his eyes, followed by an externally inputted YES.

Well, they might have the armor, but they didn’t seem to have him. At least not yet —

Tony cried out in response to a sudden, sharp pain on his right thigh. Without a second thought, he interfaced with the armor to confirm what had just happened. The armor had just administered to him one of its emergency doses of adrenaline. And in the process of confirming that, he had made himself vulnerable just for long enough to be taken.

---

Through the static in his comm, Steve heard Sam say something about Nova and Lucy, but he was still engaged with Rumlow and couldn't quite parse it out. Only seconds later, someone or something crashed to the floor nearby. Behind him, gunshots -- almost certainly Schmidt firing on Logan and Bucky.

"Tony?" Steve shouted over the din.

Static from Sam trying to contact him from above ground rattled in his ear until, suddenly, it went dead. That cleared his head enough to hear the distinctive whine of the repulsors powering up. The first beam pierced the smoke and shot across the room, followed by Logan growling. Steve heard the impact of the second shot as someone hit the opposing wall, but without a vocal cue or disengaging Rumlow, he couldn't tell who.

Rumlow, for his part, was matching Steve blow-for-blow. Steve could see now that Runlow was wearing what had to be infrared goggles over his helmet, and Steve swung at them, hard. His head snapped to the side, one lens splintering under the impact, but he kept at it -- and then Steve heard the repulsor firing up again.

Steve grabbed Rumlow and used his momentum against him to pull him between Steve and glow of the repulsor. The impact nailed Rumlow squarely in the back and sent both men sliding across the floor. Steve took his chance to try to grapple him, but, defying Steve's expectations, Rumlow rolled away from Steve and made for the door. Two more pairs of feet followed him out of the room and down the corridor, leaving Steve and Tony behind.

"Tony?" Steve climbed to his feet and peered through the smoke in search of the armour's glow. "What the hell?"

---

<Execute program?>

<YES>

All of the projected confidence aside, Sin had only half-expected it to work. She raised an eyebrow when it did, and that was as far as she would go in betraying her surprise.

Getting past Wolverine was easy. A tutorial level in a first-person shooter game, except that her laptop saw through Stark’s eyes and she had more interesting things at her disposal than just guns and grenades. She hummed as she examined her options.

“Interesting.”

”What?” said Rumlow, walking into the sealed room. He tossed all his damaged head gear on the floor. Sin rolled his eyes at the display of temper. Nothing got to him quite like taking a beating from Steve Rogers.

“Stark has offense and defense protocols set up against practically every Avenger,” she answered. Brock leaned over her shoulder to look at the laptop screen. “But nothing against Rogers.”

”How’s that interesting?” Brock barked. ”Inconvenient.”

Sin ignored him. She wasn’t here to illuminate dimmer minds.

---

In Tony’s lab, a back-up server suddenly went online and, as planned, established an immediate encrypted connection with Steve’s communication device.

“Steve. It’s me,” Tony’s voice sounded through Steve’s comm. “Kinda. It’s Artificial Intelligence-me. I’m a security program set up by Tony Stark. If I’m online, that means that Stark has been compromised. I’m here to walk you through disabling the armor and enacting the Johnnie Walker Protocol to render all his mental data unusable.”

---

Externally, Tony didn't respond. Neither did anyone from outside. The silence from the comm in Steve's ear was deafening -- and then the feed clicked back on.

"Steve. It's me."

"Tony -- "

"Kinda. It's Artificial Intelligence-me."

Steve's breath caught. He watched the tell-tale glow of the Iron Man armor in front of him, got the hardlight shield up between them.

"If I'm online, that means Stark has been compromised."

"Tony!"

Steve stood his ground. Tony -- the armor -- raised a hand, palm out.

"I'm here to walk you through disabling the armor and enacting the Johnnie Walker Protocol to render all his mental data unusable." The armor fired. Steve braced himself.

The shield winked out.

"Shit -- "

Steve ducked, rolled, got back on his feet. The armor turned awkwardly, slowly, to follow him, and Steve got the distinct impression that someone or something outside of the armor was controlling it manually. Tactically, it should have been a relief that he wasn't up against Tony's own programming, but it wasn't. Someone was inside Tony's head, stealing his autonomy from him and turning him into a mindless weapon, and that would not abide.

"Whose mental data?" Steve asked the AI in his ear. He hoped the AI meant the version of JARVIS that powered the suit.

"You know whose," came Tony's voice. "I can only hope you promised you'd do this. I may have programmed this before asking you."

Of course he did. Steve circled the armor. For all he knew, Tony was fine inside and only the armor itself was compromised. He had to get Tony out.

"There's a voice-activated code that'll get you started. Repeat after me -- "

"Hold that thought," Steve said. Then he dove for the armor.

Tony's voice continued, uninterrupted, as Steve grappled Iron Man. He couldn't open the armor in here without exposing Tony to the gas that still filled the room; he'd have to provoke Schmidt into taking this outside. To that end, he kicked his legs up, wrapped them around the armor's chest, and leaned his full weight back. Without any control from inside, the armor couldn't correct for the shift, and the two of them crashed to the floor. Steve wrapped his arms around the helmet in an ineffectual headlock, but he needed to make sure Schmidt could hear him.

"I will find you," he growled, "and you'll never regret anything like you're gonna regret this."

Then he released the armor, rolled to his feet, and bolted for the door. He almost made it up the first flight of stairs before he heard the armor in flight behind him, slammed carelessly into walls and ceiling until it burst through the door, up the stairs, and into Steve. Together they bounced against concrete and steel, up and up, Steve's vision swimming as he tried and failed to break free -- but then they were out, careening through a grate and away from the building, away from the mountain, away from the gas.

"Can't you turn this thing off?" Steve shouted.

"Then confirm the order with your name, and that should do it," Tony's AI said.

"Without the data deletion part," Steve said.

"This is the only way. Where did I lose you?"

Steve shook his head, tried to inhale any of the rapidly thinning air that whipped around him. He'd lost his mask at some point while they'd ping-ponged around the stairwell. Up here, he wouldn't need it.

He pulled his hands free and reached for the manual release on the side of the helmet. The face plate dissolved to reveal Tony's face. Tony's eyes were unfocused, unseeing. His jaw was slack, his brow relaxed. He was bleeding from several cuts across his forehead, his nose; he looked like he may have bitten the inside of his mouth hard enough to draw blood as well.

"Tony." The wind whipped Tony's name from Steve's lips.

Steve wrapped a hand around the back of Tony's neck, the other around Tony's jaw. Tony's expression didn't change, but he released Steve, forcing Steve to scramble for purchase before he fell away. Their flight slowed, then stopped, until they were hovering well above the battlefield -- a safe distance away from Schmidt and Rumlow to escape.

He had to trust Sam would catch them. Even if he could get back to earth safely, he wouldn't do it without Tony.

"Hey," he said. His voice sounded thin. Tony's eyes were so dark.

"There's a voice-activated code that'll get you started," came Tony's voice.

"Tony. Please."

"Repeat after me."

Could he force Schmidt to land them? Where was Sam? He had to get Tony out of the suit!

"Don't."

"Activate Johnnie Walker override. Authorization: the first Avenger."

But the longer Steve stalled, the more Schmidt would get from Tony. She'd already shut down their comms, his shield. Given enough time, she would had access to everything Tony had access to, every wirelessly-enabled device on and orbiting the planet. He had no idea how far she'd gotten already, but he knew Tony would never forgive himself if Steve didn't do this.

"Don't make me do this."

"Walter Wolf. Rivendell. Eleven. Pyxis. Larghetto."

He had to. Tony had asked him to.

"Then confirm the order with your name, and that should do it."

Steve's chest, head, everything hurt. He couldn't breathe, and he couldn't pretend it was the altitude. He hoisted himself up enough to press his lips, dry and quivering, to Tony's temple.

"Activate Johnnie Walker override," he said.

He felt the armor shutting down against his chest, under his arms, as he tore each word out of his own throat and sobbed it back to Tony.

"Confirm override," he said.

He forced his head up to watch Tony's eyes. Nothing had changed. He crawled his numbing fingers around the back of the suit to reengage the face plate.

"Steve Rogers."

The repulsors cut off, and then they were falling. They were too high up even for Tony in the suit to survive the fall, much less Steve with no parachute and no shield, so Steve clung to the armor with Tony inside and closed his eyes against the wind. He didn't see Nova and Lucy coming until they each tried to take hold of him and Tony, but Steve refused to let go, forcing them to descend in an awkward tangle until they were low enough to drop Steve and Tony without injuring them. Hitting the ground was like flipping a switch; Steve was back in action, singularly focused on nothing but getting Tony out of the armor.

"Steve! What happened?" Sharon said from somewhere both nearby yet incredibly far away. He was already manually removing the armor as he answered.

"Schmidt. Did you get her?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Wolverine and Winter Soldier got her, Rumlow -- and Clint." That caught Steve's attention. He jerked his head around to look up at Sam as he lay his ear to Tony's chest.

"Is he okay?" Sam and Sharon exchanged a look that Steve didn't care to decipher. He could hear Tony's pulse, but Tony's breathing was too shallow, too quick. He rose to his hands and knees over Tony, his back to Sam and Sharon. As long as Clint wasn't dead, Steve could follow up with him later.

"Come on, Tony."

Steve pinched Tony's nose and closed his mouth over Tony's. Tony's chest rose with Steve's breath, then fell almost still again. Steve gave him another breath; same thing. He sat up and started chest compressions and didn't stop until several pairs of hands pulled him to his feet and toward the Quinjet.

[teknikolor-walters]

"Cicada," he answered. "Cicada Walters."

Well shit.

Cicada hated going on missions for the Elijahs, especially ones that ended up with him being caught inside of 122E by an iteration of Jessica sticking a gun in his face. At least, he assumed it was an iteration of Jessica. The looked and sounded identical save for some hair dye.

Jay had even sounded almost apologetic when she came to him with the order. "Sorry, Cicada, but the Elijahs want something from you. You and your calculator need to go inside of O.V.E.R. tonight and get a file for them." And they couldn't even say no because if they said no then Jay would get killed and H1VE would lose access to O.V.E.R. Fuck.

"And what are you doing here?" Right. The iteration of Jessica sticking a gun in his face.

"I assure you I know much less then you think I do." He tried to smile, which just made Other-Jessica's eyes narrow. Right. Ok. No smiling.

"I said, what are you doing here?"

"Following orders."

"Orders from who?"

"An O.V.E.R. employee."

"Ok, great, do you know how many people work in this place?"

"Well- yeah- kinda. Look, I'll tell you everything you want to know, just please put the gun down, ok?" This was starting to remind him of the time he killed Matt. He held back the waves of nausea at the thought.

"Ok. Gun is down."

"Alright. So, long story short, I kind of need to do this so that way my friend doesn't die. And I just need to figure out to get through that door," he pointed at the door leading to Tier Two, "and then I'll be out of your hair."

"Well, I kind of need to stop you so that way I don't die."

"Oh."

It wasn't like H1VE didn't have preparation for this. It was Jay's idea, her being the biggest planner of the group, and everyone else had agreed on it. If someone from H1VE was sent on a mission, and then didn't come back for a month, or were needed for some other reason, they would be iterated at the last known point, and that new iteration would go on. It sucked, but at least they'd have a version of him.

He really didn't want to die, though. He sighed.

"Sorry about this."

It was a quick, practiced motion, taking the calculator out of his pocket. He knew the coordinates by heart and put them in by the time Other-Jessica had drawn it's gun.

"What the hell are you-," it started, then stopped, being interrupted by the sudden and jarring effects of time travel.

Elijah- Eli, specifically -looked the two up and down as they got their bearings, casual smile on her face.

"Hello, Jess and Cicada! We can explain everything, I promise!"

Enter Tier Two through 122E at 10pm sharp tonight. There is a high probability that you will encounter another individual inside of 122E. Dispatch with them in whatever way you deem appropriate - they are not an OVER employee, and nobody of consequence will miss them. Afterwards, proceed into Tier Two. There is a file somewhere in building 275B that should be labeled "XDFR239-4GF-ACB3" and bear a stamp in red ink stating "For US Government Internal Use Only" and a second stamp in blue ink stating "Project 2BR56". Retrieve this file, photograph its contents, and return it to its place. There should be at least five pages inside, and up to fifty. You will not understand the contents of this file, but it is important that they be eligible and we be able to read every character. After returning the file to its place you may return to your cabin for the night. Do not be spotted or identified. -W.BG

Jess looked at the order with confusion. It was pretty standard stuff for what they were having her do these days, but the bit about the other individual was unusual. It tapped out its concerns.

do we have to do this tonight? id rather not run into anyone else, over employee or not

It took all of three seconds for the response to come through.

For the sake of expedience, please follow orders without asking further questions. -W.BG

Yeah, that was about what he was expecting. She pocketed the phone and went to bed. She usually napped before missions - she couldn't be tired in case she had to run, but he also couldn't rely on caffeine, which activated its anxiety. So it set a timer for three hours and went to bed.

That night it tricked open the door to 122E, drew his gun, and stepped inside. Sure enough there was a man already inside the building, medium-long brown hair covering his face from this angle as he rifled around behind her desk. She pointed the gun at him. "Hands in the air."

The man stood up hurriedly, throwing up his hands. She looked closer. There was something oddly familiar about his face - she didn't think it knew him, but he could've sworn the man looked like someone else.

"What's your name, and what are you doing here?"

"Cicada," he answered. "Cicada Walters."