#real men keep cool in the face of a fire

[pucksandpower]

A Little Arson as a Treat

Logan Sargeant x protective!Reader

Summary: after news that Williams has dropped Logan mid-way through the season comes out, you decide that revenge is best served hot

Warnings: they literally set James Vowles’ house on fire

“You think they’ll be able to tell it was us?”

Logan’s voice is shaky, his eyes locked on the flickering flames dancing up the side of James Vowles’ house. The orange glow reflects in his wide eyes, making him look like a boy who just realized he’s in way over his head. His hands are buried deep in his jacket pockets, and you can see the nervous twitch of his fingers beneath the fabric.

You snort, not taking your eyes off the fire. “No way. They’ll think it was an electrical fault or something. We were careful.”

“We weren’t that careful,” he murmurs, almost to himself, biting his lip. “This is ... this is insane.”

“Maybe,” you admit, leaning a little closer to him, feeling the coolness of the night brushing against your skin in contrast to the heat radiating from the fire. “But what were we supposed to do? Just sit back and let them throw you out? Nine races left, and they think they can just-”

Logan cuts you off, his voice tight with emotion. “It’s not just the races. It’s everything. It’s like ... they’re saying I’m not good enough, that I never was.”

You turn to face him, your heart squeezing in your chest. He’s not looking at you, his eyes fixed on the fire like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. “Logan, that’s bullshit, and you know it. You are good enough. They’re just too blind to see it.”

“Am I, though?” He finally meets your gaze, and you can see the doubt etched into every line of his face. “I mean, if I was, they wouldn’t be dropping me, right?”

You sigh, frustration bubbling up inside you. “This isn’t about your talent. This is about politics, money, and a bunch of old men who can’t see past their spreadsheets. You know that.”

He’s silent for a moment, just watching the flames as they start to consume the upper floor. “So, we burn down his house?”

You shrug, a small, defiant smile playing on your lips. “Sometimes you’ve got to make a statement.”

Logan shakes his head, a disbelieving laugh escaping him. “You’re insane.”

“You love me for it.”

His eyes soften, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “Yeah. I do.”

You reach out, taking his hand in yours. His fingers are cold, trembling slightly as they curl around yours. “We’re gonna get through this, okay? You’re not done. Not even close.”

“Tell that to the team that just replaced me with a kid from F2,” he mutters, but there’s less bite in his words now, more weariness than anger.

“They’ll regret it,” you say firmly. “They’ll be watching from the back of the grid while you’re out there somewhere proving them wrong.”

“And if I don’t?” His voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear him.

“You will.”

He looks at you like he’s trying to absorb your confidence, to borrow just a little of the fire that keeps you burning so brightly. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know you,” you say simply, squeezing his hand. “And I know that you’re going to fight like hell to get back on the track. And when you do, they’ll all see what they lost.”

Logan takes a deep breath, nodding slowly. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“Only because I’m right.”

He laughs again, a real laugh this time, and it warms you more than the fire ever could. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievable enough to commit a little arson as a treat?” You tease, nudging him lightly.

His smile fades a little, and he looks back at the house, the flames now licking at the roof. “You really think we’re going to get away with this?”

You tilt your head, considering. “Even if we don’t, what are they going to do? Kick you off the team you’re already off of? We’ve got nothing to lose.”

“I’ve got you to lose,” he says softly, his grip on your hand tightening.

Your heart skips a beat, and you swallow hard. “You won’t lose me. Ever.”

He turns to you fully now, the fire forgotten, his eyes searching yours. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

For a moment, the world shrinks down to just the two of you, standing together in the night, hands clasped, hearts beating in time. The fire is a distant roar in the background, a symbol of the chaos that’s been following you both for weeks, but it’s nothing compared to the storm inside Logan, the one you’re trying so hard to calm.

“So,” he says, his voice a little lighter, “what’s the plan? We just walk away?”

“Pretty much,” you reply, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Unless you’ve got a better idea.”

He hesitates, glancing back at the house one last time. “No ... I guess that’s all we can do.”

“Good. Because I’m starving, and I’m thinking burgers.”

Logan blinks, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Burgers? We just committed a felony, and you want to go get burgers?”

“Don’t you?”

He stares at you, then shakes his head with a disbelieving grin. “You’re insane.”

“I’m hungry. Big difference.”

Logan chuckles, the tension in his shoulders finally easing as he lets out a long breath. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, squeezing your hand again. “I really do.”

You smile, pulling him away from the sight of the burning house, guiding him down the street like it’s just any other night and you’re just two people out for a walk. “Come on, there’s a place a few blocks over that makes the best burgers.”

Logan falls into step beside you, the smell of smoke fading as you put more distance between yourselves and the scene of the crime. “I’m still on a diet plan, you know. Think they’ll have something that fits?”

“Probably not,” you admit with a grin. “But I’m sure we can figure it out.”

He laughs again, a sound that makes your heart swell. “You’re seriously insane.”

“Maybe. But you love me for it.”

He shakes his head, his smile softening into something more tender. “Yeah. I do.”

As you walk together, hand in hand, you can feel the weight lifting off Logan’s shoulders. It’s not gone entirely — it won’t be, not for a long time — but for now, in this moment, it’s lighter. And that’s enough.

“So, what do we do after the burgers?” He asks, his voice casual but laced with something deeper, something that says he’s already thinking about the future, about what comes next.

“After the burgers,” you repeat, pretending to think it over. “We find a way to get you back on that track.”

Logan glances at you, surprised. “You’re not giving up, are you?”

“Never,” you say firmly. “This is just the beginning. We’re going to prove them wrong.”

He’s silent for a moment, then nods. “Okay. What’s the plan?”

“First, we get you back in a car. Then, we show them what they’re missing.”

“And how do we do that?”

You smile, squeezing his hand. “One step at a time. We’ll figure it out.”

He looks at you like he’s trying to memorize this moment, to hold onto it for as long as he can. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t be stupid. You deserve everything.”

He smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in it, like he’s not quite sure he believes you. “I just ... I don’t want to let you down.”

“You won’t,” you say, your voice soft but certain. “You never have.”

Logan doesn’t respond, just pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walk. The night is quiet now, the fire just a faint glow in the distance, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there’s a sense of peace between you.

“Burgers sound good,” he says after a while, his voice warm and content.

“Yeah?” You ask, looking up at him.

“Yeah. And then maybe we can figure out that plan of yours.”

You grin. “Deal.”

As you walk, the world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you, together against the odds, against the world. And in that moment, you know that no matter what happens next, you’ll face it together.

The fire is behind you, but the real battle is just beginning. And as long as you have each other, you know you can win.

[lookingforariaa]

Attack On Titan: Actor AU ᝰ.ᐟ

ᯓ��� From the very first "Attack on Titan" table read, Eren Jaeger and Y/N L/N been locked in a personal war. They had hated each other, for their own personal reasons. But, now, fate (or the writers) had dealt them a cruel hand: their characters, the series' central love interests, were about to share their first intimate scene. actor!eren x actress!reader

Ensconced in the makeup chair, you flipped through the script with practiced ease. Your brow furrowed in concentration as you absorbed the scene directions and drilled the lines for today's shoot into your memory.

If 13 year old you thought it was bad enough having to share your first kiss with Eren Jaeger at the end of the season 2 finale with a bunch of camera's pointed at you, she would probably want to kill herself for this scene.

Smiles were plastered on for fans, talk show appearances, the whole nine yards. But everyone on set knew the hatred simmering beneath the surface between Eren and you. But your reasons for the animosity ran deeper than just hating him for the funsies.

You'd always bristled at entitled people like Eren Yeager. His producer father had undoubtedly greased the wheels for his leading role alongside you. He hadn't earned it like everyone in this series had, and he had gotten one of the leading roles in the series.

It wasn't fair. The rich always win.

The first table read had confirmed your worst fears. You had extended a friendly hand, introducing yourself as his love interest and the second leading role in the series.

Eren's response? A dismissive scoff and a head-to-toe sweep that spoke volumes. That self-satisfied smirk ignited a fire in your gut. People like him, who waltzed into success on silver platters, were everything you weren't. You'd clawed your way up, and his arrogance was a slap in the face to everything you'd achieve

The hatred towards Eren only intensified on the first filming day. His arrogance wasn't confined to you. He barked orders at crew members and treated his assistant like an indentured servant. Your blood pressure skyrocketed.

These were people, not props for his entitled performance.

He treated them like they weren't human.

The scene triggered a raw nerve. You knew all too well the sting of dehumanization. The humiliation. Your mother was a single parent forced into sex work to keep a roof over your head. Even if you lived in a brothel full of sex workers, you didn't ask god for anything else other than to get your mom another job.

You had watched your mom try her best to hide you from the men coming in so you wouldn't have to fall into the hands of prostitution as well. The way those men treated her - a flicker of desire followed by callous dismissal, like a discarded rag.

Like she wasn't even worthy enough to be called a human.

You had clawed your way out. Your striking features - the cascading dark blonde hair and the mesmerising hazel eyes and amazing acting skills - were your ticket to this role, a chance to give your mother a life she deserved.

Seeing Eren was like looking into a mirror of your traumatic past, seeing your mom thrashed around like an object.

Blinking back the sleep in your eyes after having drinks with Sasha the entire night, the scripts pages wavered in your hands, the words blurring at the edges.

Sasha's death still felt unreal. You'd sought solace in her company after they killed her character, clinging to the real Sasha for as long as possible.

A yawn stretched your lips into a wide, ungainly shape. The gentle hum of the hair curlers and the soft touch of the makeup brushes did little to dispel the exhaustion clinging to you like a second skin.

The last layer of blush being applied felt strangely cool against your warm cheeks. You lowered your heavy lashes as they started applying a gentle layer of mascara to your makeup as the finishing touch.

The problem with Attack On Titan was the fact that all the makeup had to look natural. But at the same time all the girls, especially you and Mikasa, had to look beautiful.

Which wasn't hard, because both of you were drop dead gorgeous. But both of you were too humble to ever admit it out loud.

You skimmed through the script one last time as the Matt, your gay best friend who mostly does your hair, brushes them out slightly to make them look more natural.

Perfect," he sighed dramatically, a playful smile on his face. "Ready for today's shoot?"

You rolled your eyes, a groan escaping your lips. "Absolutely not."

"Yeah, figured," Matt chuckled. "t's funny honestly. Do you actually have to ride his thigh? God, the writers hate you."

"Oh shut up!" You scoffed, slapping his arm with your script as you looked a laughing Matt through the mirror.

"Okay, come on, they're asking for you."

"Tell them I'll be right out."

The director barked out his final instructions, taking help from Isayama as his gaze flickering between you and Eren.

Both of you stood with arms crossed and brows furrowed, listening carefully to the director and Isayam. Eren, clad in his iconic faded green shirt and a the black jacket over it.

While you wore a white button-up strained slightly against your chest, the small black corset tied right beneath your chest emphasizing your hourglass figure beneath it.

"So, remember, Y/N you hate him in this scene, you despise him." The director emphasized, looking down at the script.

"Yeah, that's gonna be easy to act out." You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

Eren smirked, leaning down for his mouth to reach your ear. "Don't forget what scene we're filming." His breath tickled your ear. You didn't know what sent the chills down your spine-- his mouth being so close to your ear, or the fact that he was referring to how you had absolutely no control in this scene.

The director clapped his hands, snapping you and Eren out of your silent standoff. You cleared your throat, forcing your attention away from the infuriating green shirt and towards the man barking orders.

"Y/N," he said, pointing at you, "when you say, 'So you're going to kill billions of people for what?!' I want a reaction. Fling your arms wide, like you're trying to grasp the weight of those lives. Let your anger crackle in your eyes, burning into Eren as you demand an answer." You nodded.

His gaze shifted to Eren, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Eren, when you deliver the line, 'For you,' I want hesitation. Let out a sigh that speaks volumes. Run your hand through your hair, whatever. Turn away, build the drama. Then, do a dramatic turn around back towards Y/N, unleashing that scream with every ounce of conviction you have. Got it?"

Eren nodded understandingly, pursing his lips. "Got it."

"Great! Let's get this scene rolling!" The director boomed, clapping his hands. A flurry of activity followed as the set crew started getting the prison set ready for filming, fixing any minor misplaces in it.

You and Eren stood by, the tension crackling between you like live wires. Within minutes, the set was prepped, the harsh overhead lights casting stark shadows on the fabricated brick walls. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the emotional rollercoaster about to unfold.

"Scene 27, take 1."

"Lights," The director sighed, "Cameras." He pointed, "And.. action!"

The sterile light glinted off the metal bars, casting a harsh glow on the tense scene unfolding. You stood across from Eren, your voice laced with barely contained fury

"I know what I'm doing," you spat, the words sharp as shards of ice. "But do you, Eren? Do you have any goddamn clue what you're doing?!"

Eren was positioned before a cracked mirror, avoided your gaze. His knuckles tightened around the chipped porcelain sink, the strain evident in his posture. A sigh, heavy and laced with despair, escaped his lips as he stared down at his clenched fists.

"Yeah," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah?" you shrieked, disbelief and frustration clawing at your throat. "Because from where I'm standing, it doesn't seem like a single thought has crossed that thick skull of yours!"

Your hands flew to your hair, tugging at the strands in agitation. Frustration boiled over, and you flung your arms wide, the metal cot scraping against the wall with a jarring clang

"Eren!" you roared, your voice echoing off the cold stone walls. "You're about to make billions die at the hands of a horrifying death! And for what?!"

Eren remained silent, his back a rigid wall against your onslaught. A shaky breath escaped him, his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth seemed ready to shatter. Slowly, he raised his hand, running it through his hair in a gesture of defeat. His eyes, half-lidded and shadowed, flickered towards his reflection in the mirror, a flicker of something akin to shame crossing his features.

Then, with a dramatic flourish, he spun around, his voice laced with a desperate conviction that bordered on hysteria.

"For you!" he screamed, the words echoing through the cell. But as quickly as the outburst erupted, it died down. A defeated sigh escaped his lips, and he repeated the words, this time a mere whisper, "For you..." His half lidded eyes met yours.

"Well, that's fucking stupid!" You screamed out.

"Cut!" You furrowed your eyebrows and turned your head back to the director. "Y/N! Your resolve breaks for a second, okay? You still love him deep down and when he looks at you like that your heart aches." The director says, clutching at his own heart to emphasise. "So wait for a second, show emotion, and then say the stupid line."

"Idiot." Eren muttered under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.

"Okay, got it. Everything else was fine?" You asked, ignoring his comment.

"Yeah." The director responded, "Let's take it again from Eren's line."

"Scene 27, take 2."

"Lights, camera.. action!"

Eren sighs once more, "For you.."

A tremor ran through your composure. Your eyelids fluttered shut for a brief moment, a shaky breath escaping your lips. When your eyes reopened, the anger had returned, but it felt brittle, tinged with a flicker of something else - confusion, maybe even a hint of pain. It was a fleeting glimpse, quickly masked by the familiar fury

"Well that's.. that's fucking stupid!" You stammered, trying to showcase your characters resolve breaking.

"Is it?! I think it's fucking stupid that you aren't understanding that Marley wants to take you so you can make pure royal blooded babies with my brother so they can take the founding titan easily!" Eren roared, turning back to you.

"Babies?" The word hung in the air, a foreign concept amidst the weight of Eren's plan. The anger you wielded began to crumble at the edges.

A shaky laugh escaped you, a humorless sound that echoed off the cold stone walls. "Is that it, Eren? All this so I don't sleep with your fucking brother?!"

Eren's jaw clenched tight. He ran his hands through his hair again, his voice laced with a desperate edge. "You aren't fucking getting it! They'll use you, Y/N! Turn you into a breeding machine for their twisted agenda and then kill you! This way, at least you're..." His voice trailed off, the defiance flickering for a moment.

"Atleast i'm what? Safe? You fucking sociopath! You're killing all these people for one person?!"

"Shut up."

"That's what you are.. a murderer, a psychopath!"

"Shut the fuck up." He growled, grabbing you by your neck and pushing you against the wall, choking you slightly. The camera followed both of you in kind.

You smiled, scoffing. "Or what? You'll kill me?"

He choked you harder, making you stretch your neck up as you whimpered slightly.

"I told you to shut the fuck up."

"Make me."

A tense silence stretched between you, punctuated only by the ragged rasp of your breath. Disgust simmered in your eyes, a mirror image of the icy loathing reflected back from Eren. The space between you crackled with unspoken hostility

He was supposed to kiss you now, but you were glad he wasn't, otherwise you might've barfed in his mouth. He looked at you with the same expression etched on his face: disgust.

"Cut!" The director yelled out and Eren rolled his eyes, sighing as he released your neck and immediately walked away from you.

The director slammed his script down, the sound echoing through the soundstage. "Alright, what's going on here? You two are supposed to be passionately making out, not glaring at each other like you're about to duel."

Eren scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe that's the point. Maybe our characters wouldn't actually kiss in this situation."

You crossed your arms, your eyes narrowing. "Oh, and why wouldn't they? Because your fragile ego can't handle kissing someone who doesn't fawn over you?"

Eren's smirk vanished, replaced by a cold stare. "Funny you should mention ego. It takes a certain level of delusion to think anyone would be interested in someone who constantly reeks of desperation."

You bristled. "Desperation? At least I earned this role on my own merit, unlike some nepo baby." You smirked. "At least I don't need a daddy with a fat wallet to buy my way into a role."

Eren's voice turned low and dangerous. "Careful. You wouldn't want to upset the golden goose who keeps this whole production afloat, would you?"

Y/N leaned forward, her voice a steely whisper. "Don't you dare pull that daddy producer stunt on me. You think your money can buy you everything? It can't buy respect, and it certainly can't buy genuine affection."

Eren's smirk faltered for a moment, his jaw clenching, much to your amusement. "Oh, touchy subject? Truth hurts, doesn't it?"

The director sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, can we focus? This scene is supposed to be about raw emotions, about their need for each other. Let's take it again, both of you are professionals, I know you can handle it."

"Scene 27, take 3."

"Lights, Camera... Action!"

The boy holding the movie clip snapper sighs, exhausted, even from a simple job as his. "Scene 27... take 23."

"Okay, guys, If it doesn't happen this time then we'll have to redo this tomorrow. And then we won't have time to film the scenes scheduled for tomorrow, hence the season 4 premiere will get delayed. So, just be professionals for once. You aren't kids anymore." The director sighs, putting his cap back on as he leans back in the chair.

Both you and Eren get back into place as the director yells action and Eren quickly slams you against the wall.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Or what? You'll kill me?"

He choked you harder, making you stretch your neck up as you whimpered slightly.

"I told you to shut the fuck up."

"Make me."

You and Eren looked at each other for a second and you almost thought he was going to chicken out once more, so did the director as he rolled his eyes and slid a hand across his face.

But he didn't.

Eren quickly brought his lips to yours, rough and full of all the hatred that's been simmering between both of you all this while. It was a frantic kiss, as the director had wanted. Both of you were breathless as his hand stopped choking you and went to the side of your neck and the other clutched at your waist, and your hands went to grasp at his hair.

It was a tangled mess of limbs as your heads moved together at the speed of light, begging to deepen the kiss, begging to explore every inch of each others mouth. The air crackled with unspoken desire, the kiss a whirlwind of exploring touches and desperate needy moans. 

Everything was a blur. Gasping breaths mingled with the frantic rhythm of your kiss, his tongue had even made an appearance. It surprised you, because when kissing a co-star the other doesn't use tongue to keep the kiss professional and to show the person respect.

But what would Eren Jaeger know about respect?

His hands gripped your waist, a possessive ache that mirrored your owns as one of your hands tugged at his hair and the other caressed his cheek. The kiss deepened, your heads moving together frantically, a battle fought on bruised lips and tangled tongues.

A whimper escaped your lips as Eren grabbed your hair and tilted your head backwards, the kiss turning urgent, so frantic. It felt like an eternity, a culmination of unspoken longing poured into this single, desperate moment.

Your hands twisted in his hair, pulling at it harshly on purpose, hoping it would hurt. With the groan that he let out into the kiss, you were sure it did.

Then, with a swift movement, Eren shoved his knee in between your legs, your surprised moan swallowed by the next searing kiss.

His hand shot out, gripping your throat as your heads whipped back and forth, a frantic chase for deepening the kiss. A tender moan left your lips as Eren's grip on your throat tightened, his tongue thrusting deeper. The sound of your kiss echoed in the room, into the mic, a desperate rhythm. You let out another soft, breathy moan and it was muffled into his mouth as he tried to get even closer to you.

And with the directors snap, which was your cue to start grinding on his thigh, you did just that. A soft moan escaped your lips and muffled into his mouth. "Eren." You sighed into the kiss, as you disconnected your lips and connected your forehead with his, grinding on his thigh.

Fuck. You didn't expect this to happen, especially not with Eren, but you could feel your pussy pulsate and throb with need. You just hoped he couldn't feel it.

"We shouldn't do this." You said in a soft moan as you threw your head back, giving Eren the chance to kiss down your neck.

"We shouldn't." He sighed into your neck.

"It's a bad idea." Your grinding intensified and his hand came to grab at your hips to help you, a sigh of pleasure escaping you, your nails digging into his shoulder.

"It is." You could feel his breath on your neck.

"I loathe you."

"The feelings mutual."

The air crackled as your eyes locked with Eren's. You guys locked eyes for a moment, as written in the script.

And then you leaned down as you were slightly lifted above the ground with a surge of undeniable desire. Your lips met in a frantic kiss, a tangle of emotions that both fueled and fought against your self-control. The kiss was so rushed, such a blur. Both your heads moving so frantically to fight for dominance.

It was like you were fighting to crawl into each others skin.

A strangled sound escaped your throat, a mix of surprise and something more primal. A flicker of uncertainty crossed your mind. Fuck, why were you enjoying this?

Shame threatened to choke the rising tide of sensation, but Eren's touch, a hand gently yanking at your hair, grounded you. In that moment, you were caught in a delicious storm of confusion and exhilaration.

"Cut!"

You tore yourself away from the kiss, gasping for breath. Eren mirrored your action, his chest heaving slightly. A ghost of a smile played on his lips, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. Both of you gazed at each other with longing and confusion, almost disgust and hate for themselves because deep down they know they liked it.

''Great job! I love the intensity. We'll just need to film some POV and closeup shots for the sex scenes and we're done for the day." The director smiled, praising both of you. "Let's take 5."

You started to walk away, but before you could leave, Eren grabbed your hand. "Also, by the way." You sighed and rolled your eyes.

"What?"

"I could feel that, you know."

Shit.

[frogchiro]

No I have to add something to this or I'll go insane oH MY GOD-

Graves is awful and an asshole; every chance he gets he will rub it in that HE is the one getting hacker girl by his side almost all the time and not 141 :(( He thanks whatever higher power there is that he's a 'techno-wizard' as you affectionally call him and he can show his prowess off like a peacock both on the battlefield (you're not an operator and don't engage in fire exchange per say but he knows you still keep a watchful eye on them with cameras and your various knick knacks) and in the technical world, he LIVES for your praise and usually ends up with a half chub because of it :((

His latest 'kick 141 in the proverbial balls' operation was even more successful than his stunt with the plane and capturing Hassan. They were all stationed in some bumfuck-nowhere in Al-Mazrah with you in tow for technical support. It was...hell to say the least. During the day it was unbearably hot and Johnny felt like his fuckin' balls were dripping with sweat and he could see that Ghost wasn't in much better shape, his huge body was naturally incredibly warm, all that muscle and layer of fat and thick body hair was made for keeping warm in colder climates; Johnny knew that from experience when you, him and Simon were stationed in Russia and Ghost had the two of you cuddled up all nice and warm, sharing intimate moments and body heat...but this wasn't Russia. It wasn't pleasantly warm but dripping hot and Johnny wished he was everywhere but not here and though Ghost didn't seem to mind the conditions, the Scott knew that he was bothered too.

But the real nail to the coffin was a message. Not a simple one like a debrief or a message from Laswell to update them, no. It was fucking Graves and what did he send? A picture of you. A photo of pretty little you, laid out like a perfect meal on soft looking sheets and it looked like some sort of base because it was way too luxurious to be a safehouse.

And there you laid, all pretty and nice with a shy smile on your face, naked safe for the loose shorts you usually wore. Your skin glistening with a healthy glow, looking impossibly soft and your stomach rolls only adding to the perfection of your body; you looked like a goddess. But then really hit Soap like a train; Graves had you laid out like this, probably touching your body with his rough hands, kissing all over you and muttering dirty words of love in that damn southern accent in the comfort of a cool room, AC probably blasting all nice and comfortable and cool judging by the way your nipples were hard and perked up, that damn mutt was surely having the time of his life suckling and biting on them while Johnny and Ghost and the rest of their men were stuck in horrendous humid heat with no privacy and absolutely no time to even jerk off, though he could see Ghost spreading his huge legs and adjusting his cock through his dark pants, no shame at all.

Johnny had to turn the phone off again and could only scream in his head at the top of his lungs in agony, his head thumping semi-loudly on the wooden wall behind him. Oh he was gonna get you the second he comes back♡

[malaierba]

Real men don't need other people And real men suck it in Real men don't flinch or bleed in public Oh, I think I'm a real man

Little boys cry and look around for comfort (...)

But little boys hold me, color me Praise me, make me feel lovely For a little while

Real men keep cool in the face of a fire Go down with the ship

And real men don't eat, 'cause they're above that, damn it Oh, I'm gonna be a real man

[Thinking about Toshiro and his relationship to gender/manhood/desire]

[munsonfamilyband]

This was supposed to be a little headcanon thing, and it turned into a drabble that is also mildly NSFW so tw mild sexual content, it’s mostly just implied but still

——————-

Eddie is very possessive. He knows he’s possessive, and when pressed for a reason why, he would guess that it has to do with growing up poor. When you don’t have a lot of items to call your own, you get possessive of the things you have.

He didn’t expect it to extend to relationships though. He had never had a real relationship before, the closest thing was a regular fuck buddy that lasted a couple months. But now he has Steve and sometimes his possessiveness scares him.

When he looks at Steve sometimes he gets this dark, heavy feeling in his chest that he needs to keep Steve all to himself. Lock him away in their bedroom and never let him leave, never let the rest of the world see him. He knows it’s irrational and probably not all that healthy, and the fact that he knows this keeps him from acting on in most of the time. Unfortunately, he is only human after all, and sometimes he can’t help but let that need to have Steve all to himself take control.

The most common times it happens are at shitty little bars (getting less shitty each month though) where he and the band are performing. The adrenaline from the stage always gets his blood boiling, and Steve always dresses up in his own little ways. Usually it means tighter jeans and a crop top under Eddie’s vest, but sometimes he wears one of his own sweaters and people stare. Of course they stare, it’s a metal concert and there’s Steve in his blue jeans, sinfully tight, and a soft sweater in baby blue or yellow or purple, he stands out like a sore thumb. Those days, Eddie gets off the stage and usually finds Steve being cornered in a subtle way, sometimes it’s just assholes trying to start a fight with the normie. That pisses Eddie off, but what gets that dark thing in his chest screaming are the men and women, in their leather and denim, who corner his baby with hunger in their eyes. They see him in his soft clothes and see an easy meal, and it gets Eddie to throw caution to the wind and slide up behind Steve, wrapping his arms around him from behind and sliding a hand under the bottom of his sweater. He knows it’s dangerous, being that overt, but he’s not in control of his actions, all that he can think about is how someone else is looking at his baby and they need to be stopped.

Those nights always end happily for both of them, because Steve loves Eddie’s possessive side. Steve who has had so little love in his life, who has felt like a second choice for so long. Steve who feels like is only purpose is to help others. Steve savors all the love Eddie gives him, and those moments where Eddie’s fingers dig into his skin a little harder, where he pulls him back into him with a little more force set Steve’s skin alight with fire and love. He’s not stupid, he can see when people are interested, and he never plays into their interest, but he’s never had to. When Steve has someone in front of him with lust written across their face, he knows that within a few minutes Eddie will be pressed against his back, hands on his skin and insistent pressure against his back. He can never stop his reaction to Eddie in those moments, leaning into the contact with a dopey smile on his face, and the people in front of him always leave soon after. They never stay for very long after that either, Eddie rushing through packing up their equipment so that he and Steve can go home.

These nights always end the same, Steve and Eddie curled together in their bed, with sweat and come cooling on their skin. Steve is clinging to Eddie like he’s a teddy bear, unwilling to let go for even a moment. Sometimes his wrists are rubbed raw, other times his ass is nearly bruised, but he always ends the night covered in bite marks and bruises where everyone can see.

But secretly, Steve is possessive too, he’s just quieter about it. Steve always had items of his own, too many things that belonged to him but no one to share them with. So now that he has Eddie, someone who loves him with every part of his being and who lets Steve love him back with his everything, Steve refuses to let him go. So on those nights, when he’s nearly suctioned himself to Eddie’s front, his hands trace along the marks he left along Eddie’s skin, the bite marks on his shoulders and the scratches along his back.

They both know it may not be healthy to want each other this badly, but they figure that they can get away with it. After all, they almost lost the chance at this all together.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Tangled Hearts, Torn Leather

I hope you enjoy it @forgetmenot-bluepurple

The Xavier Institute was no stranger to strange pairs. In a mansion full of mutants, where fire met ice and metal bent to will, unusual combinations were a given. But there was one pairing that had everyone scratching their heads, students and teachers alike.

On one side of the equation was Kurt Wagner. The resident ball of sunshine, Kurt was all smiles, faith, and friendliness, with an unwavering optimism that seemed to glow as brightly as his golden eyes. He made friends easily, never once losing his warmth despite the harshness of the world.

On the other side, there was you. The leather-clad enigma with heavy boots that thudded ominously in the hallways, a perpetual scowl beneath your dark, tousled hair. You had an aura that screamed "keep your distance"—a tough exterior built from years of dealing with your own battles. Piercings glinted on your face, a spike-studded collar hugged your neck, and tattoos curled up your arms like snakes. If Kurt was a beam of sunlight, you were the thundercloud that blocked it out.

It wasn’t that you went out of your way to scare people; it was just how you carried yourself. You’d had to be tough for so long that it became second nature. But your intimidating exterior kept most people at bay. Students parted for you in the halls, teachers gave you wary glances, and even some of the X-Men looked at you with a mix of respect and caution.

So when people saw you and Kurt together, it was like watching fire try to befriend water. But it worked. Somehow, it worked.

It had started as a slow friendship—passing comments here and there, small gestures that eventually grew into something more. Kurt had been one of the few who hadn’t flinched when you walked into a room, who hadn’t made assumptions based on your appearance. He treated you the same as everyone else, maybe even kinder. And that had intrigued you, then warmed you, in a way you hadn’t expected.

Now, as you sat on the edge of one of the stone walls overlooking the mansion’s sprawling grounds, you found yourself lost in thought, the cool breeze playing with the edges of your jacket. Kurt was perched beside you, balancing easily despite the height, his tail flicking back and forth as he talked animatedly about a book he’d just finished.

You nodded along, your gaze fixed on the horizon, but a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of your lips. His excitement was infectious, even if you didn’t always share his enthusiasm for the same things.

People would be surprised to know how comfortable this felt—being here with him. But then, people didn’t know what went on behind closed doors. They didn’t see the way Kurt could get you to laugh, a real, deep laugh that made your sides hurt. They didn’t see the late-night conversations where you’d let your guard down, revealing parts of yourself you’d long hidden away. And they certainly didn’t see the way he’d reach out, unafraid, to touch your hand, your shoulder, or your cheek, soft gestures that spoke of a bond deeper than any words could.

“They’re looking at us again,” Kurt said suddenly, his golden eyes shifting toward the mansion. He had that knowing smile on his face, the one that told you he was amused by all the attention the two of you got.

“Let ‘em look,” you replied with a shrug, your voice low and rough around the edges, but there was no bite to it.

“Does it bother you?” he asked, his tone gentle as always.

“Nah,” you said, though you didn’t need to explain. He knew you didn’t care what others thought. But you cared what he thought, even if you didn’t say it outright.

Kurt shifted closer to you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “I’m glad,” he said, softer now, as if it were just the two of you in the world. “I’m glad you’re here. With me.”

That brought the smile back to your lips, fuller this time. “Me too, blue,” you murmured, the nickname rolling off your tongue easily. “You’re not so bad to hang out with.”

Kurt chuckled, a sound that always warmed you, even on the coldest days. “I’m honored,” he teased lightly, but there was something earnest in his voice.

For a while, the two of you just sat there in comfortable silence, watching the sun dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the grounds. The students were probably still whispering about you, wondering how the punker and the sweet German mutant had found themselves in each other’s company. But you didn’t care. The truth was, no one else had to understand what was between you two. It was something private, something that belonged only to the two of you.

“Hey, Kurt,” you said after a while, your tone more serious.

“Ja?” He turned to you, giving you his full attention.

“Thanks,” you said simply, your voice softer than usual. “For, y’know… everything.”

Kurt’s smile softened, his golden eyes warm with understanding. “Anytime, mein freund,” he replied. Then, after a pause, he added, “You’re important to me.”

The words were simple, but they carried weight. And you knew, in your own way, that they were true for you too.

You reached out, your hand finding his and giving it a light squeeze before pulling away, not one for too much overt sentiment. But Kurt knew. He always knew.

Together, the two of you stayed there until the sun disappeared, a dark cloud and a golden light intertwined, stronger together than apart. And as the first stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you knew that this—whatever it was—was real. It didn’t matter what others thought. It only mattered that, somehow, in the tangled mess of life, you and Kurt had found each other.

[ornii]

helloo

Could i request Cate Dunlap from the Gen V show x Male reader pls??

Finally finished Gen V so I can finally do this request and idk why but I think Cate could play a young Jean Grey really well if they decided to reboot the X-Men which in turn gave me an idea for this. (Also Jordan is my favorite character, please protect them.)

Stargazing

Cate Dunlap X Male Reader

It was the criminal investigation Class that set you on the path of Heroism, real heroism.

You were forced to wear a pair of high Destiny deep red glasses that thankfully halted your superpower; concussive beams can emit strongly though your eyes, thankfully you can somewhat control the intensity. From the strength of a slap in the face to a Freight train hitting your opponent at Lightspeed, you had more control than most, making you a potential shoe for the Seven, and into the Top 10.

Vought had their eyes on you and Luke, both of you were constant neck and neck in the eyes of The Uni and Vought. But it wasn’t much of a competition for you two, moreso of a friendly rivalry.. but you two did butt heads when it came to one person, Cate.

Cate had this personality that was abrasive at times but, so genuine and caring too. Made a tough combo for any guy luck or unlucky depending on how she was feeling. And man, she was gorgeous to boot, getting with the top kids you had to be around Luke, Andre, Cate and Jordan, the Big 5 as some would say.. but it’s just Big You.

It was dark, around 1 Am and on the rooftop of Godolkin. Cate, Andre and Luke were enjoying the company and cheap drugs. You, not so much. Keeping a clear head makes it easy for you to keep from taking your glasses off on accident. You sat in the edge of the building, Cate and Lucas on a large rectangular Box and Andre on an AC unit, Cate tilts her head at you.

“(Y/n), are you eyes red under those rose glasses?” She asked smugly, you looked over to her. “Fuck if I know.. dad has the same thing. Never got to see his.” You said, probably making it a bit awkward, and Andre turned to you, a hint of pain in his eyes.

“To Dads, right?” He said, offering a bag of mushrooms, you awkwardly laughed. “Nah I’m.. cool.” You replied. “Don’t think you can handle it?” Luke asked with a slight hint of teasing.

“Cmon, I mean I can make you… but we’re all about consent.” Cate walked over and sat next to you, the hint of vanilla on her perfume, Luke’s smirk slowly faded as cate leaned into your face. Her eyes getting scarily close to your glasses. “Man they’re like, Mars.” She whispered, “So you can only shoot lasers at people? I bet you can do so much more..” Cate leaned back to a normal sitting posture.

“Never considered doing more, just enough..” you replied, Andre nodded. “I get that, I can move metal around but.. can’t really think of much else.” Andre said, Luke nods.

“I can see myself on fire and fly, that’s about it.. I mean there’s a lot of fire and flying supes.” Luke explained, “But yours is.. super unique, we got heat and laser vision but. Concussive like super pressure.” He smiled, “You can go a long way.”

You smiled at that, you and Luke did have a lot of love and respect, even if you two were pitted against each other. You turned to Cate to thank her but saw she looked, drowsy.

“Cate? You okay?” She opened her mouth to speak but even you could see her Sclera was, red.. and her body flipped back, limp. You, Luke and Andre watched her body fly over the ledge, before any of you could mutter a word you leaped back as well.

“What—“

“Fuck!—“ you head Andre and Luke behind you as you plummet after her. They rushed over the ledge as you were able to grab Cate in your arm, you looked at the ground and thought, “Pressure.” You tore of your glasses and screamed, your red eyes flared a deep purple beam of energy, the concussive wave hits the ground with the force of a Racecar crashing into a wall at 100 miles, the sudden shift in force made your neck tense up, but you kept going, the beam slowed your decent with Cate until you could safely land, you hit the ground with both feet firm on the ground. You quickly closed your eyes as you held her.

“Cate? Cate?” You asked her, afraid of what’s going on, you heard the groggy grumbling and sighed with relief, she’s alive, Cate opened her eyes to yours closed. In a crater in the ground ironically. She looked around and back up to the roof, she pieced together what happened, an awkward smiled went along her face as she caressed your cheek.

“Knew you could do more..” she whispered, and you let her back on her feet. She looked up to Luke and Andre and gave a thumbs up, she’s fine. The sat back with relief and anxiety. You and Cate stood in the crater and looked up. “You had me worried there..” you admitted, Cate nodded. “Not my.. best moment… sorry about that. Stars are out tonight at least.” Cate looks around and finds your glasses thankfully you stopped your eye beams before you dropped them. You looked up to face the sky.

“It would be nice to see them, but they’d be rose tinted.” You said, and Cate stared at you and handed you back your glasses.

“Yeah.. but I’m looking at a real bright one right now..”

[reidfucker]

mitski songs that make me think of reid + a specific lyric

spencer reid is very mitski. but these were the first to come to mind. i do not take criticism.

- working for the knife

honestly, the entire song reminds me of reid, but this in particular:

I always thought the choice was mine

And I was right, but I just chose wrong

I start the day lying and end with the truth

That I'm dying for the knife

- liquid smooth

I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too

I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe

About to fall

How I feel this river rushing through my veins

With nowhere else to go, it circles 'round

- class of 2013

Mom, would you wash my back?

This once, and then we can forget

And I'll leave what I'm chasing

For the other girls to pursue

Mom, am I still young?

Can I dream for a few months more?

- i don't smoke

Just don't leave me alone

Wondering where you are

I am stronger than you give me

Credit for

If your hands need to break

More than trinkets in your room

You can lean on my arm

As you break my heart

- abbey

again, the entire song is very reid, but:

I am something

I have been something

I was born something

What could I be?

There is a light that I can see

But only, it seems, when there's darkness in me

There is a dream that I sometimes see

That only appears in the dark of sleep

- i bet on losing dogs

Will you let me, baby, lose

On losing dogs

I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place

By the ring

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

I wanna feel it

I bet on losing dogs

I always want you when I'm finally fine

- the deal

Then of course, nothing replied, nothing speaks to you in the night

And I walked my way home, there was no one in sight

Save a bird perched upon a streetlight, watchin' me

So, I stopped and let it watch 'til I found that it said

"Now I'm taken, the night has me

You won't hear me singin'

You're a cage without me

Your pain is eased, but you'll never be free for

Now I'm taken, the night has me"

- fireworks

this is perhaps one of the reid-est. here's the particular lyric:

One morning this sadness will fossilize

And I will forget how to cry

I'll keep going to work and you won't see a change

Save perhaps a slight gray in my eye

I will go jogging routinely

Calmly and rhythmically run

And when I find that a knife's sticking out of my side

I'll pull it out without questioning why

- i don't like my mind

again, the entire song is reid, but this is my pick:

I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room

With all its opinions about the things that I've done

So, yeah, I blast music loud, and I work myself to the bone

And on an inconvenient Christmas, I eat a cake

- first love / late spring

very cliché, but i HAD to include it! here:

And I was so young when I behaved 25

Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child

And I don't wanna go home

Let me walk to the top of the big night sky

- there's nothing left for you

You could touch fire

You could fly

It was your right

It was your life

And then it passed

To someone new

It'll keep passin' on

Long after you

- nobody

And I don't want your pity

I just want somebody near me

Guess I'm a coward

I just want to feel alright

- because dreaming costs money, my dear

I once lived in the sea

Bring me to your ear, you can hear

The tide where I used to be

Though now I'm but a shell

- a pearl

Sorry, I don't want your touch

It's not that I don't want you

Sorry, I can't take your touch

It's just that I fell in love with a war

Nobody told me it ended

And it left a pearl in my head

And I roll it around every night

Just to watch it glow

Every night, baby, that's where I go

- real men

Real men keep cool in the face of a fire

Go down with the ship

And real men don't eat

'Cause they're above that, damn it

Oh, I'm gonna be a real man

- crack baby

It's been a long, hard 20 year summer vacation

Both these 20 years tryna fill the void

Crack baby, you don't know what you want

But you know that you had it once

And you know that you want it back

Crack baby, you don't know what you want

But you know that you're needing it

And you know that you need it bad

[threepandas]

Sun Burnt: Part 3

When a legendary hitman Eye Threatens to break both your fucking legs?

They Are Not Joking.

FUCKING OW.

Still! Jokes on HIM! I'm in to that sh-! Wait, no, not the time for memes! Or is it jokes? Irrelevant! I can still fuckin RUN, is the thing. Sucks to SUCK, Sun boy! Us Lightnings are BUILT DIFFERENT!

And I BETTER not hear any snide "yeah I BET they are" from the peanut gallery!

My Flame type ROCKS! I am a TAZER who can put my fist through WALLS. Stand dead center of a road and just? Fuckin TANK a speeding car! Can YOU? Didn't THINK so! Lightning supremacy! One of you fuckers gimme a highfive! HELL YEAH!

But also? Like... I take back EVERYTHING I ever said about the Carcassa.

ALL OF IT.

They are the GEMS of the Mafia. The SHINING HEARTS of raw compassion! Skull-sama's willingness to PERSONALLY piss off The "I AM The Dread God Lesser Deity's Fear" Reborn? An inspiration to us all. I... I would steal for this man. Like? For FREE. Not DIE for him or anything, God no, but? I would steal really REALLY expensive shit for him!

The man's an absolute mad lad. A LEGEND.

I will NEVER forget this... assuming I survive.

Because somehow HE already has my name, face, and multiple alias plastered OUT FOR THE WORLD TO SEE. Ha ha... oh god. Thaaaaat is a bounty. BIG bounty. Lots of zeros. G...gonna die.

My phone chimes.

"You know exactly who this is. Pick up." The screen reads, right before it rings.

HA HA, NOPE!

I stand, well more like shoot to my feet, from my seat on the ground. Quuuuick steps too the blimp windows. Wrench those open. Sim card out! Crush the phone. AND YEET!!! BeGONE DEMOOOON!

We shall NOT be engaging with The Devil today! No Sir!

.....Skull's phone starts ringing.

I whine like a cornered animal. So... this is what a real life horror movie feels like. NEAT. I hate it! I watch, probably shaking, as Skull-sama casually drags out his phone. Glances down at it. Then over his shoulder at me. He doesn't even fully turn his head. Just one Cloud flame purple eye that seems to light up from within.

He's a happy go lucky guy. Cool dude. But like all Clouds? Fucking HATES cages. Being or SEEING other imprisoned. Trapped. Cornered and forced to do something against their will. And as the planet's STRONGEST Cloud?

He's always had exactly zero problems telling Reborn to fuck off to his face. Even when it gets him shot at. Everyone knew that.

"Sempai! Calling the GREAT Skull De Mort just to CHAT~♡? I KNEW you loved me BESTEST!" He PROJECTS into the phone, his speaking cadence shifting.

He'd been gregarious, bombastic even, the whole time I'd been on board. The sort of guy you can't help but want to buy street food with and check out some weird local sight you heard about. The guy that turns an event into a PARTY. A get together into a memory you TREASURE. Larger then life and unashamedly so.

But this? THIS was the SHOWMAN.

And this was the Showman being Obnoxious and MEAN.

Loud, intentionally grating voice. No break in the endless flood of mind numbing chatter that went no where. Bellowing cackling that even the best of speakers would be hard pressed to handle. Standing near machines and windows so the background noise garbled EVERYTHING.

Let no one say Clouds are not PETTY.

"Hmmmmm~? Your WHAT? Sempai! Don't be SILLY! You can't OWN people! That's SLAVERY! It's against~...!" He turned, leaning like a rock star of old against some navigation compartment. Casually examining his nails with a MEAN and wolfish smile on his face. "Waaaaa! Don't be maaad~ Don't be MAAAAAD~!! You know I'd NEVER lie to YOU, Sempai! I'd never DARE! I promise I'll keep a look out, m'kay? What? Don't hang up? Sorry! Can-KRRRRSHK! n't quite KKKKKRRRRRSK! Heeeeear yoooouuuuu~☆!"

Click.

He casually tossed his phone to one of his men. Ignored it even as it rang and rang. With an excited clap of his hand, he hopped up, out of his loose legged splay to stride over. According to him? We should eat! Have I had Burmese food? It's delicious! One of his guys just got "into" the whole cooking thing! So everyone is being supportive!

I can't help but laugh. Everyone politely ignores how wet it is, as Skull-sama throws an arm over my shoulders and drags me from the cockpit.

I know I'm not safe. But for now? Fuck it. Good enough. Maybe Skull-sama knows someplace Reborn might not IMMEDIATELY find me. And who knows? When this all blows over? Maybe I should join up with his crew. Reborn can't be THAT obsessed. Right? It was just the initial harmony high. With no Sky to actually bind us, he'll lose interest.

Behind me... the phone rings.

And rings.

And RINGS.

[possessionisamyth]

Here's some RE Separate Ways analysis that isn't about shipping because I like Ada. I'm happy her DLC actually focuses on her, but some of the takes I'm seeing are Insufferable. Main statements in bold for ease of reading and skipping purposes.

-Wesker and Ada haven't been working together consistently for the past 6 years. This dripless bitch is calling Ada every five minutes to babysit her. I don't think that's the relationship dynamic of someone you're regularly employed under, and when it is, Ada is not the type of character to tolerate that behavior for 6 years. We know Ada is a contract worker. We can understand she's worked for Wesker on and off, but she's a freelance agent period. She must've done enough jobs for Wesker that he feels the need to check on her and have this constant reporting in to make sure she stays on task since he's clearly used to her not always following his orders. He 100% hired her for this assignment because he knew the situation and compared to the other options, she had the highest survival chances. Which, he was right. High risk, high reward.

Sometimes Wesker's babysitting works: Ada holding Luis at gunpoint when he tries to negotiate saving Leon and Ashley. Sometimes he knows when to step away: "Keep your dog." All of it is in the effort to get what he wants. Look, he let her live. He worked with S.T.A.R.S for years and wanted them all dead. If he worked with Ada regularly and she pulled this shit with the amber, he would've had that helicopter blown out of the sky. There's always some restraint with personal distance, especially with a guy who thinks so highly of himself.

-Luis is a drama queen. In the regular game, Luis acts cool and under control to the best of his abilities around Leon and Ashley. It's a part of his newly found hero-complex even though he does still know when to ask for help: "save me prince charming!" In the DLC, we see the real side of Luis. The one who's scared, and dramatic, and knows when he's not shooting with a loaded gun so to speak. When Ada tells him to leave her to fight, he does. He wants to help, but his respect for her abilities sends him fleeing like she orders him to. Also, like every scientist, he has zero self-preservation! He ran into a fire that clearly would kill him to get medicine. And the exchange afterwards? "No! Now you'll all die!" "Make some more medicine." "Oh..yeah...I can do that. I do have that ability."

The flamenco dance. "Are you mad at me???🥺 You're mad at me!😭" This man understands Ada can kill him without blinking, but still can't keep his composure around her. This is such a fun dynamic to explore in fic for expansion stories and "Luis lives" au's. The DLC gives him breaks to freak out and panic, whereas the main game holds the "cool persona" moments after Leon saves him. Even his dying words to Ada. This man is bleeding to death and still can't shut up. I love him.

Okay, that's all I gotta say about the loser men. Now for the star of the DLC. Ada. :)

-Ada "Sans Undertale go into my eyes" Wong. The methods Ada uses in the DLC are fun and appropriate. It's not invasive and in your face unlike another agent, but more subtle. She can track footprints, fingerprints, gauge the safe distance required for her grappling hook, and she knows when she needs to fight and whens he needs to run. Her practicality has always been the cleanest of the entire cast due to her being a spy, but this time we actually get to see this trait utilized through her tools.

-Ada is silly and quips her own jokes to get through it. Something I'm not seeing anyone talk about including the aeon people who are claiming anything they can get, is this specific humor parallel between Leon and Ada in the remake. Both of them have gone through the horrors of Raccoon City. Both of them went right back into very difficult military in function style work which always has a body count. I talked about Leon's humor coping mechanism here [X], but to hear Ada do the same thing? I feel like they went under the radar because they don't sound as stupid as Leon's quips, but they are still so stupid. "Nighty night." "Lights out." "Bring me a real challenge next time." "Now look at the mess you've made." "You think that gun will be enough?" She and Leon even share the same "Next," line!

If I had 80GB to spare on the game, I'd see just how many more I could get out of her. Like, these are dumb as hell. She's found a method to cope with the horrors she's witnessing that just so happens to coincide with Leon's. I'm not saying this as a marker of whatever romance you've tossed them in or even to diss any other romances. What I am saying is that they have a similar type of mental illness resulting from trauma, and they ended up using the exact same coping method despite never seeing each other.

Ada fans who hate Leon! This opens a door for you when it comes to character analysis and how Ada deals with her PTSD and/or depression! Run through it RIGHT NOW!

-Ada's infection pulls a lot more weight than it seems. I've seen some people say Ada's parasite should've been removed the same as Leon's and Ashley's. (Which is an extremely unsubtle argument to get them all in the same room for your shipping nonsense.) However, something I noticed with the DLC were the parallels to the troubles in RE2. The Black Robe/U-3/Pesenta monster is the first time where we get to see Ada dealing with a stalking enemy. Due to RE4 being so much more plot-lined streamed to maintain the flow of gameplay, these events were not allowed to be random, but the narrative purpose remains. Ada gets to have a stalking enemy in her DLC like Claire and Leon did in RE2 with the addition of a hubris check.

The hubris check? Well, Ada has never been infected until this DLC. In the original games, she can step back and watch people die because she doesn't know what it feels like. Now she knows what it feels like. The lack of control. The pain. The slow turning. Her job has had her flirting with death for years, but not in a way she can't fiddle with the odds. A parasite is not something a person can distract with words. The action to steal the amber is backed up via personal experience not just a morality code slapped on. The addition of Wesker's correction to "billions of causalities" means she's included in that number and just cements her incentive to flee. She's not doing this for Leon. She's not doing this for Luis. She's doing this for herself, and if it so happens to help other people then it is what it is. After being on both sides of the coin when it comes to viruses, she can no longer function as entirely impartial to the work she's doing.

-Ada doesn't ask for permission but asks for forgiveness. Don't take this phrasing literally. She doesn't ask Wesker to forgive her. What this means is that she'll do something before asking, and if it upsets people then she'll course correct. Her job is not the kind of job where she needs to take orders for every action she implements which is why Wesker calling every five minutes was annoying as hell. In the OG RE4 she kind of argues with Wesker for Leon to live for "his usefulness", but it's swiftly shut down until it's convenient to Wesker for Leon to live. This forces her to sneak around and betray Wesker multiple times to save Leon secretly, and the concept rightfully gets thrown into the garbage for the remake DLC.

The scene in the bedroom where Wesker tells Ada not to become a liability after taking her blood? Ada doesn't fight to get her shit back. Some people said this was flirting. Wrong. This is Ada seeking forgiveness after the fuck up of passing out in the middle of an active field by letting Wesker walk off with an infection sample. She then makes sure not to fuck up a second time in the same way, and she doesn't. She learns the signs of her parasite so in case she does pass out again, she'll be somewhere much less conspicuous. She listens for the changes in her environment and the feelings in her body and prepares herself for what's next.

-Ada saves Leon and Ashley for Luis' sake. I stated earlier that Ada's action to take the amber was for her own sake but ends up helping others. This is the exact situation going on when Luis talks about getting the suppressant. She needs the suppressant in order to do her job and kill the black robe so she can heal. It just so happens that Leon and Ashley need the suppressant for survival reasons too. They are an afterthought until Luis dies.

We watch Ada question Wesker and his plans all throughout this DLC, and she comes to her own conclusions after her experience working with him. She could've gotten the amber back and let the whole place blow into smithereens like Wesker intended. Who cares about the president's daughter? Who cares about another dead federal agent? Luis did. He cared so much he died for it, and just like that other clown in Raccoon City (aka her), she got emotionally attached. If there was anything she could've done for Luis to make his death mean something, it was this act.

-Ada sells Leon's jacket. This isn't analysis, but I thought this was funny as hell. ACAB! No exceptions! Freeze your tiddies off, Leon! I don't give a shit!

-Ada's new outfit is still better than her old one. It's still not the best they could've given her. I'm also not speaking from a fashion point of view when I say this. In the OG RE4 we see Leon in a jacket which is forcibly removed to show off his pecs to the ladies, but it clearly marks a colder time of year. OG RE4 Ada has arms out, legs out, and tits out because a hoe never gets cold. The sweater dress for the remake re-establishes that it's colder here because even Luis doesn't lose his jacket. Ashley doesn't lose her jacket either until they yoink it off her for ritual reasons. I still hate that the thigh high boots have that heel and would prefer the flats, but that's going to be in the complaint paragraph below.

-Capcom sexism at play once again. I don't give a shit about rigs and motion capture or whatever, her walk cycle was 2 adjustments from being full Bayonetta, and I hate it. The ass shots? Disrespectful. Her heels didn't have to be that high. Never heard of a kitten heel? They exist. The people who worked on RE3 Remake and worked on this DLC sure love to make a woman vomit don't they? Why the fuck was she so clean the entire game? She was being thrown around and tossed in the dirt a lot, but this woman's skin is shinier than a waxed apple. Either she has some wet wipes on hand, or god forbid women get filthy. Absolutely zero reason she shouldn't have been looking as rough as Leon by the time she gets on the helicopter! No reason at all!

That's all they wrote! I love Ada. I loved this DLC, and I loved the dynamics going on here even though I hated every time Wesker was on screen or opened his mouth at all.

As much as I would love to expand this post and go further into the changed Ada and Leon relationship, I frankly hate all the takes I've been seeing so much on either side of the Aeon debate. I hate the ongoing conversation around it so much that I don't know if I want to discuss this at all. The Aeon should've gotten this if not for Luis and Ashley side and the Aeon is dead side going back and forth with each other? All of you put on your clown noses! None of you are looking at this situation objectively to see where the lines cross and where they run alongside each other, and frankly I'm tired! I could clear this whole table off so both of you can get exactly what you want based on what you're not actually interpreting from this media, but I won't! Kill each other!

[merovingianprincess]

Life After Death - Aegon Targaryen x Reader

hey, this is literally my first time writing something like this. please be nice and feedback is appreciated. English is my first language but sometimes i am stupid I have seen another story similar to this but not exact, I have not copied anyone, i swear.

TW: death, grief

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Fire and Blood/House of the Dragon, nor do I claim to own any of them.

_____________________________________________________________

It was becoming dark and getting cooler as you, Princess Visenya Targaryen, were ushered by Aegon's men into your own quarters alone, and your beloved mother and brothers were held outside in the courtyard of Dragonstone.

You didn't bother trying to bang on the door to get out, as you knew they had been locked and the fight had practically been lost. You could hear the clinging of the armor of the guards who were stationed outside your door on Aegon's orders. He demanded you be taken to your quarters, "To be dealt with later."

Sighing in defeat you sat down in a chair near the hearth, hands wringing together in your lap. Glancing towards the window, seeing the sun starting to set in the sky.

What could you do? Nothing. Your beloved dragon, Vermithor and his mate Silverwing, were being held down on Dragonmont, you silently prayed to any god who would listen to keep your dear dragon and his own lover safe. There was no way to get to the two large beasts, only hoping they would remain unharmed; though it would take a lot of effort for simple soldiers to kill two gigantic dragons.

You felt a slow breeze drift through your open windows, cool enough for you to consider wrapping up in a blanket, but you didn't want to move. There were a hundred thoughts running through your head. What was to happen to your mother, the queen? What about your dear brothers Aegon and Viserys? Your other brothers Jacareys, Lucerys, and Joffery were all killed off separately during the war.

It was painful and torture sitting with, what ifs? The seconds felt like hours drifting by, slowly, like watching a boat move across the water over the horizon on a day with no wind.

You began to pick at the loose thread on your black and red dress, thinking about how you'd need to repair it, maybe with some pretty embroidery, if you survived. Oh, but no. It felt so stupid to think of something like that when your mother and brothers were being held by Aegon's men. How could this be real life?

You jumped in your seat when you suddenly hear a dragon's roar, though not Vermithors or Silverwings. It must be Sunfyre, the thought makes you even more nervous, feeling yourself start to shake. You stood up to walk around hoping that would ease the shaking of your body, it did slightly; before you heard a scream. A scream that was bloodcurdling, it was haunting, memorable. Somehow you knew whose it was, though you wanted so badly to deny it, to not think of such a thing.

You found yourself sitting back down on the chair by the hearth, tears forming themselves in your eyes before they began to cascade down your pale face. You sat there like a statue, sitting up properly like a lady, hands folded nicely in your lap, with tears falling quickly, a few hitting the tops of your hands, one or two on your knuckles, your eyes trained down to the stone floor.

Then there were cheers, you turned your head slowly towards the window moving your eyes from the floor to the sunset, it was pretty. At least she died when the sunset was beautiful, you thought, trying to comfort yourself once again. Then you heard cheers from the soldiers and a triumphant roar from Sunfyre.

How dare they?! My mother just died and they cheer? You felt angry, you wanted to scream and throw things around the room. You also wanted to be held, mostly by the big arms of your stepfather, Daemon. He wasn't great at discussing feelings but he was good at comforting you when you were sad or had a bad dream, But, he was dead too. Aegon and Viserys, are dead by now. Everyone you loved was dead, all for a throne.

It was quiet again, your gaze had turned to the fire, the tears still slipping from your eyes, though not as many now. You felt numb and didn't want to cry anymore, you didn't want to feel anything anymore. You were ready to meet your fate as well.

There was a knock at the door, you stood up as it opened. Aegon walked in, with his hand on the pommel of his sword. His face was a bit flushed, but he looked composed, well as composed as one could be after destroying his own sister. You walked toward one another before stopping only two steps separating the two of you.

"Princess Visenya," he said giving you a small smile.

"Aegon," You responded shakily, trying to stop any more tears from reemerging. You told yourself you were going to be strong.

"I have put your mother to death by dragon fire." He said calmly, his hand tightening on the pommel of his sword.

"I gathered that when I heard a dragon's roar followed by screaming and then cheering." You replied, looking at him in the eyes.

He pursed his lips looking down at the stone floor and then quickly back at you. He reached the hand from his sword out and gently started playing with a loose tendril of your silver hair that was near your face. You want to swat his hand away but you were out of the effort for anything. You felt a sort of light tension coming from his person, he opened his mouth to say something and then closed it.

He shifted his gaze from the hair he was playing with to you once again. "I'm going to give you two options Visenya, that's it, I ask that you choose very carefully, okay?" He said, lightly raising his eyebrows.

"Okay." You lightly nodded your head, your hands playing with the rings you had on.

"You can either marry me and become my queen and I'll let your brothers live, or I can sentence all three of you to death the same way your mother died." He said, letting out a breath at the end.

Your eyes widened at him, "My brothers are still alive?" you asked with a hopeful smile.

"Yes," he said, nodding his head, letting go of the silver tendril.

You paused for a brief moment, you surely thought they too had died, you were expecting to die as well, maybe not the same way your mother had. But here Aegon was offering you and your surviving brothers the chance to live, though be his wards. You could become queen though, you weren't your mother's heir, it was Jacareys but you could continue her legacy. You could allow your younger brothers peace, something none of you had known in far too long. You fought with yourself internally, how could you marry the man who usurped your mother's throne and killed your mother? You thought once again to your brothers, they deserved to live.

"I will marry you Aegon," you said, looking up from the floor to him. He smiled widely at you. "But on a condition."

His smile faltered, "On a condition?"

You nodded your head.

"Visenya," he looked down in disbelief with a slight shake of his head, "I'm allowing you to live under far better terms than my advisors would even think of and you're wanting conditions?"

"No bedding ceremony. I do not want to be humiliated or bred like a showhorse in front of people." You spit out quickly before he could say anything else.

He looked back up at you. "That can absolutely be arranged Visenya, absolutely." He slowly and lightly put his hands on the side of your face, and he leaned down to give you a soft kiss on your lips. It was quick and your first-ever kiss, never did you expect it to be Aegon. He pulled back giving you a smile that you returned.

"I'm glad about the choice you have made, I must finish things up here on Dragonstone, we shall begin our return to Kings Landing in the morning. I will see that your brothers are being treated well. If you need anything please let one of the guards know, I will send a servant to give you dinner. " Aegon said, lightly grasping your hands, pulling them up to his lips for a kiss, before striding out of the room.

You stood there watching the doors close behind him, this time you did not hear a lock. You walked back over to the chair in front of the hearth, it was somehow still burning strong. Your mother had just died, Aegon has won the war and you were to marry him soon. You felt a rush of mixed emotions. You felt like a traitor to your mother and her supporters, you felt like you did the right thing in protecting your brothers and keeping them alive. But you would also end the war and bring about peace.

You were going to marry King Aegon II and be his Queen.

[xioterep-art]

HEHE guess what? a new P - O - V!

Pardon me if I ever mess up the grammar or some, cuz a matter of fact I don't English good, it is what it is! hahahahaha!

This time it's inspired by this following playlist:

I, Pirate Kaeya x Dancer listener : playlist (reverbed) by sylvia.

Pirate King Kaeya x Dancer Reader AU

Trigger warning: Alcohol? Otherwise everything is good (based on my opinion?)

Disclaimer: The art is not mine, but all the work is completely mine.

This night's mood was exceptional on the ship, with screams of joy echoing all over the place. One could see from afar silhouettes dancing with each other, fire lamps flickering as if they wanted to cheer them for their successful raid.

On the surface of this ship where the banquet was held, he was sitting leisurely with a smirk painting his breathtaking face as he watched his underlings dancing and wasting themselves on alcohol. As his dark blueish hair danced with the soft breeze, he slowly took a sip of the bottle that was in his hand waiting patiently as he talked to one of his men.

"Sir, the dancer is done. Shall I call for her?" An underlying appeared before his captain, bowing respectfully as he waited for his superior's response. The sitting man paused momentarily, narrowing his eye, and then smirked again, "Only a foul would wait, man! Bring the dancer!" The pirate said as he waved his hand, manly roars were heard all over the ship.

Being surrendered by the smell of man, alcohol, and sweat, you appeared, smiling seductively as you walked confidently to the center to the point where those smelly pirates had to step back, you swayed your hips back and forth as your hair waved along the cool wind.

Keeping eye contact with the eye-patched captain, you signaled for the musicians to start to play. One, two, three moves from that damned body of yours had already left those filthy young men around you speechless. Your attire, clinging sensuously to your mesmerizing figure, followed every sway and twist, creating an ethereal aura that enveloped you.

You were dancing alluringly like a flame, moving your body like water as if there was no bone in it, jumping as if no force could bring you down, walking as if you were floating. Oh, and that captivating look of yours, would throw anyone even the King of Pirates into a never-ending bottomless pit of lust and greed.

Approaching the captain of this ship, you move your waist slowly following the melody, so slow that the man in front of you has to put aside his enormous love for alcohol for a moment and just stare at how your bewitching form was melting along the musical notes.

As if he was in a dream, he didn't realize how near you were until he felt your soft and tiny hands running across his chest, he didn't think that you were real, and just for the sake of his sanity he raised his hand subconsciously to your cheek yet as he was about to touch you, you slip away like a floating dream only your scent was proving how of a breathing being you were.

You were already behind his back, hugging his neck, your soft flesh was pressed against his back as you kept moving your hips moving one hand of yours was caressing his well-defined chin while the other was tracing his exposed collarbone.

Snapping back to reality, the man again showed his signature smirk, his eye now lit up with an undistinguishable flame, a flame that could not be tamed and that not even the ocean was to be poured on that would stop it from eating away this man's sanity until he got what he wants.

Slipping away for the second time, you appeared in front of him again, cheers all around you both as you smiled innocently at the dark-skinned man contradicting how your body was moving sinfully. And as you kept moving your waist skillfully while your chest matched the movement, you slid your hand down his arm till you reached the bottle of alcohol and took it away from his feverish hold, his eye following the movement of your torso as it goes up and down slowly as you poured the liquid on your collarbone.

The red liquid flowed along your curves, painting your soft-looking flesh while you arched your back softly, stretching out every inch of your skin to its limit, head held high as you kept a daring eye contact with this renowned and fearful pirate king, Kaeya Alberich.

In a trance, as this ethereal scene happens in front of all these hungry men, they all go silent staring at the dripping reddish wine on the floor, only the sound of the music can be heard on every surface of the ship.

Straightening your back again, you felt your hand being grabbed, looking down you met his beautiful eye with his diamond-shaped pupil slightly dilated, looking at you intensely as he pulled you down, making you sit on his lap. Unfazed, you stare back calmly even when his lips are but an inch apart, "Sir, is there anything that this frail woman has to do?" You asked in a whisper.

Still smiling, he lowered his head to where the liquid was and sniffed the mixed scent of both yours and the wine, "You are so delicious right now, that I can't help but want to devour you in this instant, my lady," he said after some time with a charming smile, "what do you think?" He adds.

Pausing for a moment, you stared silently and for a moment he felt as if you would eat his soul at any second, sneaking a hand around your waist.

"How can I, a feeble woman, decide my fate in front of you, the king of pirates?" You said as you put your arm around his neck with a soft look in your eyes, "Ho? You have such a smart mouth, playing with your words so perfectly," he chuckled softly as he took your hand and kissed it softly, "be mine and I..." He paused as he leaned towards your collarbone again, his warm breath caressing your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine, "and I will offer you all the treasure I find on this ocean," his wet tongue testing the half-dry wine.

Seeing the atmosphere around you, his underlings choose to dance with each other again as if nothing is happening in your direction, bringing the initial mood back.

"I dare not accept such an offer," you said softly to his ear, sliding your hand to his open shirt, "That is a dangerous request, Sir," You added, "this maiden will be in constant worry, what if you find a more beautiful dancer?" You chuckle, "My heart will be in deep agony..."

Hearing this, he looked back at you and then started laughing, "I may sware on all my fortune that you are the most beautiful flower I ever seen in the vast field, Milady!" You smiled slightly, "Even the most beautiful flower withers with time, My lord."

Putting his hand on your cheeks, "If you take care of the flower diligently, it will bloom until the end," he says playfully, enjoying this discussion, "Yet-" As you were about to talk back again, a finger was put on your lips, stopping you from talking nonsense again, "why worry about the future when even I, the king of pirate, fight against foes without worrying about the waiting reaper?"

Hearing this made you stop to a halt, thinking for a while, you looked down with a bright smile, "You are right, Sir," you nodded, "Kaeya. Call me Kaeya, love." He cuts you again with a genuine grin, "Kaeya..." You said with a soft voice that tickled his brain for a moment and made him malfunction for a fraction of a second.

Standing up in a hurry with you in his arms, swaying back and forth, your hair following the smooth movement. He was in pure euphoria, he just found a new treasure that he judged to be priceless as he swore he would make sure to cherish and protect it till the end.

[aussiellama]

Random Spider White headcannon

He is really good at maths, he's actually good at school in general but he's really good at maths

Ant: We all have our demons.

Ant, grabbing Spider : This one’s mine.

Ant: You look mentally ill.

Spider : I am. Let’s go.

Ant: Why would you think any of this was a good idea?

Spider : Probably because I’m a dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence.

Ant:

Spider : I don’t know how you keep forgetting this.

Spider : Stop failing.

Ant: Don’t tell me what to do! I'll fail right now!

Ant: *Succeeds*

Ant: Dang it!

Spider : Watcha doin?

Ant: Stealing my neighbour’s cat.

Spider : Scandalous.

Spider : Can I help?

Ant,: Do you know how many bones the human body has? It's 206. We start with 369 when we're babies but they fuse. Wouldn't you want to go back? Have as many bones as a baby? What if I could help you.

Spider : Hi, yeah, what the actual, literal, GENUINE fuck does that mean?

Spider: You either buckle down and do your work or you’ll end up at McDonalds.

Ant: We're going to McDonalds if I don't do my work?

Spider: NO-

Spider: Get your fucking shit together and act like an adult!

Ant : Think you have the wrong person but you're right.

Ant : Old people? More like fold people! *Makes an origami swan out of grandma*.

Spider: Literally what was going through your mind that motivated you to do this?

Spider: We need a plan to beat them.

Ant: Okay, listen up. First, we fill their shoes with wet cat food.

Spider:

Ant: Judge me all you want, I get result

Ant: I think I should be allowed on ghost hunter tv shows.

Spider: I think that would be dangerous for the ghosts.

Ant: You disgust me.

Spider: *eating a kitkat sideways* I realize this and don’t care.

Ant: Look, Spider, it's the third time this week you had a mental breakdown and its Monday.

Spider, pointing at Ant: Well, you can't spell stupid without "U".

Ant: Well, there's an "I" in stupid, too!

Spider:

Ant: Damn, Spider, are you secretly cool?

Spider: Well, poker is just math, so I guess it depends on if you consider the mathematician, Carl Friedrich Gauss, cool.

Ant: I do not.

Spider: Psst... Hey. Fucker. *Kisses you* idiot.

Ant: Hey, sweetheart! Hey dear! *Fucking decks you in the face* Angel~

Spider: I’ve invited you here because I crave the deadliest game...

Ant, nodding: Knife Monopoly.

Spider: I was actually going to play Russian roulette, but now I'm really interested in whatever knife Monopoly is.

Ant: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?

Spider:

Spider: Why are you eating dirt?

Ant: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

Spider: I have very high standards, you know.

Ant: I can make spaghetti...

Spider: Oh no! You're meeting all my standards!

Spider: Stop setting things on fire because you're curious about what will happen. What will happen is fire.

Ant: But what if something else happens just this one time.

Spider: Let's roleplay.

Ant: Okay. I'll be Elmo and you'll be-

Spider: Elmo?

Ant: Oh, fuck yes. Two Elmos.

Spider: Wait-

Ant: Did you know that you can't actually breathe when you're smiling?

Spider: *Smiles*

Ant: Haha, gotcha! I just wanted to make you smile!

Spider: Motherfucker

Spider: Kinda gay for a man to have dark circles under his eyes. Why aren't you getting a good night's sleep? Too busy thinking about other men?

Ant: Kinda gay for a man to be well rested. What are you dreaming peacefully about? Other men?

Spider: You smell so good.

Ant: So lick me, then.

Spider: Huh?

Ant: Huh?

Spider: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone.

Ant: Mine just says "Ant no."

Spider: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

Spider, very tired: Can I sleep in your bed?

Ang: *half asleep* Spider, this is a queen-sized bed. That means it’s for *gestures vaguely to themself* the Queen.

Ant: Relationships should be 50/50. Spider cooks us dinner while I sit on the kitchen counter looking pretty.

Ant: When I met you I thought you were a real bitch.

Spider: What changed your mind?

Ant: Oh, I still think you’re a bitch, I’ve just grown to like that about you.

Ant with puppy dog eyes: I baked you a cookie... But I eated it...

Spider: Don't you ever get tired of being fucking annoying?

Ant: I desire moisture.

Spider: Please just say "I want water" like a normal person.

Spider: Ant, you're my best friend.

Ant: Best friend? BEST friend?! Bitch, I'm your only friend.

Ant: I'M THE ONLY ONE CAPABLE OF TOLERATING YOUR DUMB ASS!

Ant: *on the phone* Hey Spider, do you know my blood type?

Spider: Of course, it's B-.

Ant: Oh, I guessed wrong. Excuse me, nurse-!

Ant: What's wrong with you?

Spider: Off the top of my head, I'd say low self-esteem, a lack of paternal affection, and a genetic predisposition for anxiety and depression.

Ant: "Forgive me father, for I have sinned." and "Sorry, Daddy. I've been bad." both mean very similar things but have wildly different connotations.

Spider: Get the duct tape, cause I'm shutting you up for good.

Ant: When am I gonna be able to have my 100k slow burn enemies to lovers relationship...?

Spider: Stop reading fanfiction and get back to work.

Ant: Mate. You wanna go?

Spider: Yeah.

Ant: ...On a date with me-

Ant: Oh you do?

Spider: You're saying that like I fell for a cunning prank. We're literally dating, you egg.

Ant: I trained this chicken to talk!

Spider: Let's see, then.

Ant: What's a male deer?

Chicken: Buck

Ant: How much is 200 pennies?

Chicken: Buck buck.

Spider: This is stupid...

Ant: It gets better.

Chicken: It gets way better, Spider.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

6k of JackCurt, half Curt character study, half romance; established relationship; no queerphobia; everyone lives

They're barely across the channel when they're hit hard. Curt hears Dickie grunt, and when he looks over, there's red seeping from under his cap and red pooling in his sheepskin. There's smoke billowing from two engines, and after a second strafing, Curt's got glass all over himself.

"Dickie, you with me?" Curt asks as he maneuvers so his gunners can get some shots in.

"Here, here," Dickie murmurs. He straightens up. He tries to reach for his controls, but his left arm doesn't move right, and his right doesn't move at all. "Curt–"

Smoke starts to billow from a third engine. One of the side gunners yelps into his mic. Curt's not even sure they're over France yet, and they're supposed to make it all the way to Africa.

"We're chewed up," Curt says into his mic. "Three engines smoking, glass in my fucking face, Dickie's bad off–"

"I'm fine," Dickie huffs.

Curt reaches out and grabs his right hand, gives it a squeeze. "Merrick's down, gonna turn her around and try to make it back to base."

There's confirmation from the lead, and then a long moment of silence as Curt starts to turn back, the Germans on his ass. 

"Biddick, we'll see you back at base," says Jack, calm and cool as he always is on the radio. No sign he's thinking of anything but adjusted logistics with Curt out of the game already.

"Safe travels, boys," Curt replies. "No one be an angel today, you hear me?" 

"We hear you," Jack says, and there's a little warmth there, just for him. Curt's sure about it. 

His boys do their best to keep the Germans off their asses, but then the fourth engine goes, and all Curt can do is aim for the water. 

They hit hard and at an angle, and Curt feels something twinge hard in his chest and his leg, and then something hits him in the head and things go real hazy before they go black. 

*

He comes to on a cot next to a fire. There's a splint on his leg and bandages around his torso, and when he turns his head, it hurts like fucking hell. He groans.

"Easy, son," a voice says, and then an older woman comes into view. She has a long braid and a nice smile, and she touches Curt's cheek in a way that reminds him of his mother. "You're still half-frozen from the water. Just stay right where you are and warm up."

"My boys?" Curt manages. He's out again before he hears her answer. 

*

When he comes to a second time, he's in an ambulance with two medics. There's a needle in his left arm, and his head still hurts like fucking hell. 

"...the fuck am I?" Curt asks, but the medics don't hear him over the sounds of the vehicle. He wonders if Dickie's okay, says a prayer for him and all the other fellas. 

His last thought before he fades out again is that he hopes Jack makes it back. 

*

The third time, he wakes up properly, coming to sluggishly, but once his eyes are open, he's awake. He's staring at the ceiling, and there's sounds of men around him. He puts his hand on the mattress to push himself up, and grunts when it makes pain cut through his chest. 

"Careful, Biddick," Red says. He's in a chair next to Curt's bed. He reaches over and helps Curt finish sitting up, stealing a pillow from the empty bed next to him to give him extra support. "You've got two broken ribs and a broken leg and a bump on your head, plus you went down in the water, so you were about half-frozen when they found you."

"The boys?" Curt asks. "Dickie?"

"Had to send 'em all to London once we found you," he says. "The locals did a good job keeping you all alive, but you're the best off of everyone."

Curt considers that. "Shit," he says. "How hard did I land?"

"It was the Germans, not your landing," Red says. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Can you give me a short recap? The other boys couldn't say much." 

Curt blinks and stares at his leg in the bed. It's in a cast now, bright white. He remembers a kid breaking his arm in the neighborhood, how they all scrambled to sign their names. "You gonna sign my cast?" he asks. 

Red huffs and scoots his chair a little closer. "You'll have my signature before I leave. I promise."

Curt nods. "Okay," he says. "Yeah." He closes his eyes and thinks about the mission. "We were over the channel when they got us the first time. Fucking nailed us good. Two engines shit the bed, and something got Dickie…"

"Shrapnel," Red fills in. "In the neck and in the head. They sliced, didn't stick, that's why there was so much blood."

The details make Curt relax a little. "Those cuts get infected?" he asks. 

"Shockingly, no," Red replies. "Like I said, the locals did a good job."

"Should thank 'em when I'm on two feet again," Curt mutters. He thinks of the face of that woman, her long gray braid. 

"What happened after the shrapnel?" Red asks. 

"One of the side gunners took a hit. Merrick. His arm, I think."

"They'll have to amputate," Red says. 

"Fuck me," Curt replies. He crosses himself. "I radioed we were turning around after that. Germans followed us, and they got the other engines. There was glass at some point. I don't know how I hit my head."

"Awning collapsed on landing," Red says. "A rivet smacked you good."

"Huh," Curt says. He lifts his hand and feels around until he finds the knot. "How long I been gone?"

"Two days. You went down, and you were rescued by boat. They sent word they'd pulled men from Escape Kit. We took the other boys before we grabbed you, since you were doing all right where you were. Smokey went out himself to make sure."

"Nice of him," Curt says. "How'd the other fellas do?" he asks. "They make it to Africa?"

"Not all of them," Red replies, and Curt feels sympathy for him, having to track things like that. "Just-a-Snappin got there with no major injuries reported."

Curt sags against his pillows and says a prayer of thanks. "The Bucks?" 

"Both made it, though Cleven had to glide in."

Curt snorts. "No engines Cleven strikes again."

"He does," Red agrees. He puts his hand on Curt's arm. "We can't send word out that you're here, but I'll make sure Jack knows before interrogation."

"Thanks, Red." Curt opens his eyes, though it's hard. "I'm fading," he says. 

"Get some sleep, Biddick. You did a good job. You got your men back home."

Curt nods, closing his eyes again. He hopes Jack isn't worrying too much. He wishes they could send word, but he understands. The less information that goes over the radio, the less the Germans could possibly know. It's the way it's gotta be.

*

He wants to get up and move around the next time he wakes up, at least take a piss without using a bottle, but the nurse explains in very clipped tones that he has a broken leg and broken ribs, and he's lucky he didn't puncture a lung.

"I'm wrapped up like a mummy," Curt says. "How could my ribs move to get me?"

"You slip, you fall, and they move," she says. "So piss in the bottle and be grateful you can."

Not the sweetest way to talk to him, but it makes Curt smile all the same.

*

Harding shows up after dinner. He shakes Curt's hand and congratulates him on making it back. He asks how he's feeling, and Curt admits he's pretty doped up. 

"I broke some ribs playing football," Harding says. "Trust me when I say doped up is better."

"Yes, Sir," Curt replies. He's never really talked to Harding, and Jack's only just started working with him as Air Exec, but Curt can see why Jack thinks highly of him. He's friendly in a real way, the type of guy who is gonna really care about them. After what he's already survived, Curt's glad to have him as their CO. 

"I'll get you back in a fort as soon as I can," Harding continues. "I know you boys don't like staying on the ground, but it's gonna depend on you listening to Smokey about that leg."

"He says it's a greenstick fracture," Curt replies. "It'll heal up fine if I don't jiggle it too much."

"Well, do what he says, and we'll get you flying again."

Curt nods. "Yes, Sir."

*

The next day in the late afternoon, he wakes up and Bubbles is there. He's writing a letter, but he puts it aside when Curt yawns. 

"Sorry it took me so long to stop by," Bubbles says. "I came to check on you a few times, but you were always sleeping, and then I'd have to get back to work. But I had some extra time today, so I figured I'd stay a little bit."

"Appreciate it," Curt says. He doesn't try to sit upright. He aches from his head to his toes. "How's our boys?" he asks. 

"Still in Africa," Bubbles replies. "Nothing new to report."

"Well, that's probably best," Curt says. He glances at the letter Bubbles has set aside. "Who were you writing?" 

Bubbles goes a little pink. "Jean," he says. "I promised Harry I would while he was gone." 

Curt grins. "Careful. You don't wanna get busted writing another man's wife."

"Well, it was at his request, so…" Bubbles goes pinker. 

Curt turns his head. The bed next to him is empty. The bed behind Bubbles is empty, too. "You three seeing each other?" he whispers. "I can't ever tell."

Bubbles stares at him. "What?"

"Been trying to figure it out for awhile," Curt says. "If you and Harry are just close or if there's a whole…thing…going on."

Bubbles looks shocked. "I don't–whatever they gave you for the pain really opened your mouth, and that's saying something."

"Yeah, and you're saying nothing," Curt replies. He waves a hand. "Eh, not my business. Not really. I've just been curious."

Bubbles glances at the letter. "Kind of," he says very quietly. "It's…well, you gotta basically speak in code in letters anyway. And we want to keep this private while we figure it out. But. Maybe."

Curt grins. "Heh. That's how it felt with Jack for awhile. Maybe."

"Really? Jack doesn't seem the type to be a maybe."

"Nah, I was the maybe," Curt says. "Not on purpose, but I didn't present my feelings in a typed report with three signatures, so it took him a little while to realize I was serious about him."

Bubbles chuckles. "Okay, that does sound like Jack. How'd you convince him?"

"No idea. One day he just looked at me and said, 'Oh, so we're serious'? And I about lost it when I realized he didn't know. So, I made sure he knew." Curt gives Bubbles his best rakish grin. "You can fill in the details. Send a few to Jean if you want."

"Pass," Bubbles says. "I can't even begin to figure out how to tell her any of that on top of what I'm already trying to say."

"Make up a girl," Curt says. "Say you met a Jean here you really like. Or call her Jane or June. Something with a J. Underline it. She'll get it."

"You write a lot of complicated love notes?"

"Nah, I've got my J. I can be direct. I just like figuring out puzzles."

Bubbles thinks for a moment. "That might work, honestly," he says. "Jane, I think. Like in Pride and Prejudice. It's Jean's favorite book. She'll put it together."

"She's gotta be smart to fall for Harry," Curt says, and he likes the way Bubbles goes a little soft at his words. "You are gone," he says. 

Bubbles nods. "Yeah, I sure am," he replies. "But so are you."

"Damn right," Curt replies. "I got a smart one, too." He laughs. "Hey, me and Harry, we've got all the smart Js. Jean. Joseph. Jack."

"What about Buck and Bucky? He's a John."

"We'll ask Buck on a good day and a bad day, see if the answer changes." Curt says. "I bet it does."

*

A nurse–Nurse Upton, she says–helps him into a wheelchair the next day and wheels him all the way down to the hardstand to see his new fort. Kenny comes over when he spots him. He shakes his hand and welcomes him back, then turns and gestures to the fort. 

"We haven't named her yet," he says. "Any ideas?"

Curt looks at the big, empty space where the name should go. He thinks of Jack, who's still in Africa. Who doesn't know yet that Curt made it back. He hopes he's okay. "You feeling romantic, Kenny?"

Ken laughs. "Sure," he says.

"Wild Card," Curt says. "With a Jack of Hearts at the end."

Kenny looks up at the fort, and Curt can see him picturing it. "Yeah," he says. "I can work with that." 

Curt watches him scramble up onto the wing and start sketching. He grins when he sees how big Kenny makes the card, and grins even bigger when he sees Kenny scrawl initials into the two hearts next to the Jack's two heads. A C in the top one, and a J in the bottom. 

"Perfect," Curt calls.

"I'll have the brass okay it before we paint it," Ken hollers down to him. When Curt nods, Ken turns back to the fort and scribbles some detail on the card. 

"Lieutenant, we should head back," Nurse Upton says. "You'll want lunch soon."

"See you, Kenny!" Curt calls. 

"Heal up fast!" Kenny replies. 

Nurse Upton turns him around and starts pushing him towards the hospital again. "How many days is a guy an invalid in my condition?" he asks her.

"As many days as it takes not to be," she replies. "If you didn't have broken ribs, we'd have you on crutches already, but you had to go and break your ribs, so here you are."

Curt huffs a laugh at her description. "All right, all right, I'll try not to be a problem."

"Lieutenant Biddick, I've heard enough about you to know that is not true."

Curt laughs for real this time. It makes his ribs ache. "I'd be disappointed if my reputation did not precede me."

"Did you really punch out an RAF officer?" 

Curt grins thinking about that night. About Jack not even blinking when Curt said he was taking the fight. About Jack leaning in close and saying, 'No kicking him when you knock him down,' and the way Jack had looked soft and sweet when Curt had replied with 'Hey, come on, I wouldn't do that in front of you, sweetheart. You like a fair fight.'

Bucky had carried him down the street in victory, but the moment he'd put him back on his own feet, Curt had circled back to Jack at the end of their straggling parade of drunken pilots and navigators and offered Jack his elbow. 

"Fair enough for you?" he'd asked. 

And Jack had stopped in the middle of the street to turn Curt towards him and kiss him full on the mouth. "Exactly fair enough," he'd replied. 

"Dropped him in one punch," Curt says to the nurse. 

"How do you do that? Is there a trick to it?"

"Distract him first," Curt says. "Play the fool. It brings their guard down." He tips his head back so he can see her. "You getting into fights behind pubs?" he asks. 

She giggles. "No, I'm just curious. I read a book about boxing last week."

"We've got books on that?" Curt asks. 

"Just the one, but I can bring it to you."

"Sure," Curt says. "Why were you reading it?"

"I've read all the others," Nurse Upton says. 

Curt snorts. "You read fast or just a lot?"

"Both," Nurse Upton replies. "What about you?"

"I just read sometimes. I like it all right, but I like to be up and doing things."

"Like punching RAF officers?"

"When the occasion calls for it, yeah."

*

Curt reads the boxing book. It doesn't teach him anything new, but it's well-written and takes up his time. Bubbles visits again, as does Red. Curt's bored, but the sooner his ribs heal, the sooner he can be up and around, so he makes himself stay put.

Smokey comes by when Curt's reading. He unwraps his ribs and pokes him hard. Curt grits his teeth and doesn't call him a son of a bitch. 

"I'm going to leave them unwrapped for now," Smokey says. "I'll keep you on the same amount of painkillers, but if you're careful, we shouldn't need to do more than that."

Curt takes a deep breath very slowly, just to feel how things feel. There's a twinge but it's manageable. "Okay," he says. "Can I get crutches yet?"

"No, not until I'm sure your ribs will stay put. But I will give you free range with a wheelchair as long as you don't talk any of the boys into anything stupid."

"I don't need a nurse?" 

"Not if you behave."

Curt grins, appreciating that Smokey knows him so well. "I'll behave like the nuns are watching," he says. "Best Catholic boy you ever did see."

Smokey snorts in response and pats Curt's shoulder. "Right," he says, so dry it makes Curt giggle. 

*

It's nothing to get Red to push him down to the control tower when the boys come back from Africa. Curt sits up straight and smooths his hair and wishes he could stand on his own two feet, but he figures he's alive and looking all right, so that's enough. 

Bucky spots him first and gives a whoop, then rushes over to check on him, Buck hot on his heels. They both pat his shoulders and tell him he looks great, but Red clears his throat when they ask after Dickie and the others and points to the trucks. 

"See you after!" Bucky yells and blows Curt a kiss. Curt blows one back. Buck gives Curt a broad smile and a wave as he climbs into a truck with his own crew. 

A few of the other boys also take a moment to give Curt their best and promise to catch up with him, and then he's got Harry beaming at him with Douglass and Blakely on either side, and it's nice enough to see them but it also means Jack is close. 

"Come on, boys," Blakely says, "Let's give Jack a moment." He herds Harry and Douglass away, and Curt sees Bubbles approach from the side, grabbing Harry's arm and pressing their foreheads together for a moment before he lets go. Curt looks away as Douglass and Blakely and Harry step into the truck, and there Jack is, hovering near Just-a-Snappin', staring at Curt like he's seeing a ghost. His curls are loose and wild, and he looks the grimiest Curt's ever seen him.

"Get over here," Curt says. 

Jack blinks and steps forward, wobbling for a second. He goes still, then stands straighter, and Curt watches the way determination seems to rise up from his toes. It makes his heart ache to see it. That determination was one of the first things he liked about Jack, and seeing it used because he can barely stand up at the sight of Curt alive. Well.

"I made it," Curt says when Jack gets close. 

"I see that," Jack says, and his voice is even and smooth. His command voice. He clears his throat and leans down, and then he's crouched next to the chair, both hands holding Curt's arm. "Dickie?" he asks. 

Curt expects Red to clear his throat, but he doesn't. He glances over, and Red's over by the truck with the rest of the Just-a-Snappin' crew, watching them but giving them a moment. 

"He's in London," Curt says. "I haven't heard from him yet, but Smokey hasn't said he's dead, so he's probably all right."

"I'll check after interrogation," Jack says, and his voice breaks a little. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead on his hands on Curt's arm. "I told myself you would make it back, but I didn't know."

"Look at me," Curt says. It takes Jack a moment, but he lifts his head. "I'm right fucking here, Jack. Kiss me hello and get on the goddamn truck."

Jack laughs wetly, and he stands. He leans over and cups Curt's face and kisses him softly. There's a whoop from the truck–Douglass, Curt is pretty sure. 

"I'll find you when I'm done," Jack says. 

"You fucking better," Curt replies. He grabs Jack's flight suit and gets one more kiss, then lets him go. When Jack gets into the back of the truck, he keeps his gaze on Curt. Curt blows him kisses, and Jack licks the corner of his mouth and doesn't look away until the truck turns to go to headquarters. 

Bubbles takes Curt back to the hospital. They don't talk. Curt wonders if Bubbles feels as exhausted as he does. It takes a lot to see a man come back from a sortie, it turns out. Curt closes his eyes and falls into a doze that he can't quite shake when they step back into the hospital. Bubbles helps him into bed and covers him with a blanket. Curt mumbles his thanks and falls fully asleep. 

When he wakes up, Jack's at his bedside, still grimy and looking exhausted. He's watching Curt with sharp eyes, and when Curt meets his gaze, he leans in and takes his hand. 

Curt is silent as Jack kisses his knuckles and presses the back of Curt's hand to his cheek. His stubble is harsh against Curt's hand. He's never seen Jack with so much scruff. 

"You look like a delinquent," Curt says. 

Jack turns Curt's hand over, and Curt happily cups his cheek. "You'd know," Jack replies. He closes his eyes when Curt drags his thumb along his cheek.

"You hurt?"

"Cuts and bruises."

"You sleep?"

"Some." 

Curt wriggles over on the bed. "Come on, sit here."

Jack sits in the little space Curt has made. He keeps hold of Curt's hand and runs his other hand up and down Curt's arm. "Checked with Smokey before I came in. He says your ribs are doing all right, and your leg should heal fine. He's not worried the bump on your head did too much."

"Yeah, my thick Irish skull wins again."

Jack looks at him, seeming to drink him in. "Leave me a spot to sign your cast?" he asks. 

"Right over my knee where you like to steal a nibble," Curt says in an undertone. Jack looks away, cheeks pinking the slightest bit. Curt grins. "It's your favorite spot."

Jack squeezes his hand. "One of many," he murmurs. He meets Curt's gaze again. "I'm having a cot moved into my quarters. Smokey's going to have a nurse make up a schedule for your medications, and you'll have a wheelchair for your use whenever you want."

"You don't gotta–"

"Shut up," Jack says.

Curt shuts up. He looks at the dust on Jack's face and arms, the small tears in his undershirt peeking out through the open zipper of his flight suit. "You need a shower, a shave, and a shot," Curt says. "Maybe two shots." 

"Maybe three." Jack sighs and closes his eyes. "They found you in the water. You could have frozen to death."

"Didn't," Curt says. 

"Dickie's doing fine, but the shrapnel hit a nerve or something. He can't hold a pen right now, but the doctors say it's fixable."

"I'll write him tomorrow," Curt says. "Been waiting until you all got back since I knew he'd ask."

"How is it you're the only one who didn't have to get sent away?" Jack mutters, more to himself than Curt. 

"Lucky, I guess," Curt says. "And I'll take it if it means I get to stay here with you."

Jack leans in and kisses his forehead. His lips are dry and cracked and chapped. Curt closes his eyes and memorizes the touch. "I'm grounded for this week at least," Jack says against Curt's skin. "We'll have a week."

Curt lifts his free hand and curls it around the back of Jack's neck, keeping him close when Jack shifts to press their foreheads together. Curt thinks of Harry and Bubbles doing the same on the runway. He hopes they're getting a moment like this, maybe getting to talk about Jean and whatever the plans are there. 

"Get cleaned up," Curt says. "Then come back and spring me. I wanna eat in the mess tonight."

"Okay," Jack replies. He pulls away slowly until he's sitting up. "I'll be back in a little bit."

"Yeah, you fucking better," Curt says. He's glad to see it make Jack smile. 

*

Jack's back in forty minutes, showered and shaved and in a fresh uniform. He's combed his curls back but there's no pomade in them, and Curt thinks of the first time he saw those curls like that. After they'd sparred for the first time and he'd learned Jack had way more strength behind his punches than you might think to look at him. He'd come out of the shower with his curls combed back like now, and Curt remembers then, thinking how it made him look younger, a little looser, more like the kind of guy Curt'd have on his side in a scrap. 

"What?" Jack asks after a long moment of silence. He's standing by Curt's bed, hands behind his back. They're waiting for a nurse to bring a wheelchair and Curt's medication schedule. 

"You look better," Curt says. Jack's lips are slightly shiny, no doubt coated in Vaseline to help with the chapping. "What was it like in Africa?"

"Hot as hell," Jack answers. "Bucky brought a fez with him."

Curt snickers. "Yeah, I helped him pick that out."

Jack looks pained. "Of course you did." 

Nurse Upton comes over with the wheelchair. She hands Jack a small paper bag with an envelope taped to it. "Medication and the schedule," she says. "We're tapering him off the painkillers right now, so he may be a beast in a couple of days."

"I've seen him at his worst," Jack says. 

Nurse Upton smiles at Curt. "You need to use the wheelchair if you're taking more than a few steps, but the doctor says if it doesn't hurt your ribs to stand and use them, you can walk short distances with crutches starting tomorrow."

"Can I stand now?" Curt asks. 

"No. And we won't be giving you the crutches until tomorrow just to make sure."

Curt cuts Jack a look at the way he stifles a laugh. "A guy has to try," he says to Nurse Upton.

"One of the nurses will be coming by your quarters to check on him a few times a day," Nurse Upton says to Jack. "If he tries to pull any stunts, we'll take him back until he learns some manners."

"I have been nothing but polite since I got here," Curt argues.

Jack glances at Curt, then at Nurse Upton. "How accurate would you say that statement is?"

"We expected him to put up a lot of fight," Nurse Upton says, "Given his reputation."

Jack looks at Curt. His eyes are soft. "The reputation is earned, but he's smart enough to know when not to use it." 

Curt ducks his head, suddenly shy under Jack's proud gaze. "Come on, bust me out. I want mess hall food."

"We serve the same meals here," Nurse Upton says. 

"It tastes different," Curt says because it has. 

"Come on," Jack says, holding out his arms for Curt. He helps him into the chair, paying close attention as Nurse Upton shows him how to raise the left leg support and use the brakes. She gives Curt one last smile, then leaves them alone. Jack drops Curt's medications into his lap and  maneuvers the chair very carefully, clearly worried he's going to bounce Curt off a bed. 

"You're not gonna re-break me," Curt says. 

"I can't imagine a broken bone against a metal bedpost feels good," Jack replies. 

He's got a point, so Curt doesn't argue. He lets Jack push him slowly down the aisle between the beds and then out into the early evening light. He sighs in relief at being outside and not having to go back to the hospital for another night. 

Jack pushes him to the mess hall and parks him at the end of the table, left leg out of the way, then sits to his right so they can see each other. They're joined in a few minutes by Harry and Bubbles, then Bucky and Buck. Blakely and Douglass come along, and by the time everyone's sitting and eating, Curt feels like the head of a family, sitting where he is at the table and everyone filling out both sides. 

They talk about Africa, telling Curt about the fight to get there, teasing Buck about having to glide in. Jack watches him eat, and Curt wonders if he's tracking pain or calories. When he's finished eating, Curt shakes his head when Jack asks if he wants to go rest. 

"Have a cup of coffee," Curt says. "I can sit here." 

Jack gives him one of his measuring stares, then turns and requests coffee. He sits with the boys and just talks a little while. Curt listens and looks at all of them. He sees the little cuts and scrapes they'd gotten. Bucky's got sunburn across his nose, and Harry missed a spot shaving. It'll be weeks before he's up with them again. He hates the thought of having to wait. 

Before they all call it a night, Bucky comes over and hugs Curt tight, then kisses his cheek. "Save a little luck for the rest of us, huh?" he says, smiling but his eyes are so serious. He was worried too, Curt knows. He didn't know if Curt was okay, either. 

"Won't need any for awhile," Curt says. "It'll be stocked up by the time I go up again."

Bucky holds his face in both hands, then steps back. Buck steps forward and taps Curt's cheek with a soft palm. "I'll drop by tomorrow, okay? We can play some cards or something." 

Curt nods in agreement. He knows without asking that Bucky will be with Buck. If Jack's not there to be the fourth player, they'll pull someone else along. 

Harry and Bubbles wave as they leave together. Douglass and Blakely stay for another cup of coffee. Jack pushes Curt out the door with a quiet goodbye to the two of them, and then it's just the two of them making the trek to Jack's quarters. 

"Gotta say, banging the Air Exec has a few perks," Curt says when he can see Jack's private hut. 

Jack groans and flicks Curt on the top of the head. "Don't call it that," he says.

Curt tips his head back and grins up at Jack, whose gaze is focused on the road in front of them. He wants to joke some more, but there's something about being like this, getting cared for in Jack's quiet way that stops any further jokes he has. "Hey," he says. "Stop a second." 

Jack stops and looks down. "You okay?" he asks. 

Curt nods. "Just. I love you. You know that, right?"

Jack smiles at him. "Yeah, I do," he says. "And I love you, too." 

Curt nods again. "Okay. Good." 

They reach the hut, and the second cot is set up next to Jack's, positioned so Curt's left leg will be on the outside edge. There's a night stand set up, too, with a lamp already plugged in. 

Jack leaves Curt in the chair for a moment and walks over to inspect things. He takes the blanket off of both cots, then pushes them together. 

"Like the way you think," Curt says with an exaggerated leer.

Jack gives him an amused look, then walks back over to wheel Curt right up to the bed. He helps Curt shift to the bed, then covers him with the blanket. "Give me a minute," he says. 

"You're coming to bed already?" Curt asks, surprised.

"Not for the whole night," Jack says. "I just want to lie down with you for a little while."

"Okay," Curt says. "Good." He watches as Jack strips down to his shorts and takes in the scrapes and bruises he hadn't seen before. He's banged up more than Curt expected, but he's moving all right, so Curt decides not to point it out.

Jack gets into bed next to him and rolls onto his side. He slides an arm around Curt's waist and lays his head on Curt's shoulder. "Comfortable?"

"Yeah," Curt says, resting his cheek on Jack's curls. "You doing all right?" he asks. 

Jack breathes out slowly, and Curt feels some tension leave him. "Better than I've been all week," Jack says. "Jesus," he says. "Jesus fucking Christ, I thought you were dead."

Curt cups the side of Jack's head. He wants to roll over and gather Jack into a bear hug like he's done before when they've had this moment, but the injuries make it impossible. "I'm not, though," he says. "If I've got breath in my body, I'm not leaving you, Jack."

Jack shudders, and Curt feels dampness on his shoulder. He tucks his hand under Jack's ear and lets it be a soft weight on his jaw and neck.

"Had to name my new fort," Curt murmurs after a minute. Jack's still crying, and Curt doesn't want him to stop until he's good and done, but he wants to help in some small way. "You seen her yet?"

Jack strokes Curt's waist and sniffles. "No," he says. "What'd you choose?"

"WIld Card," Curt says. "With a Jack of Hearts."

"Shit," Jack mutters. "We can't use it."

Curt goes still. "Huh?"

"Wild Cargo made it back," Jack says. "It's too close for the radio."

"Aw, fuck," Curt says. He laughs a little. "This is why I don't do romance."

"Bullshit," Jack replies. He lifts his face from Curt's shoulder. He's got tear tracks on his cheeks, but he's giving Curt the sweetest look. "It's romantic whether it works on the radio or not." 

Curt rubs his thumb over Jack's cheek, wiping away the tear track. "Guess so."

"And we can keep the card, that won't be a problem," Jack says. "Just need a different name."

Curt chews on that for a moment. Jack sits up and reaches for the tissues on his side table. He wipes his face and blows his nose, then gets up and pours a glass of water from the pitcher by his desk. He drinks half and brings the rest over to Curt. 

"Heart's Wild?" Curt suggests before taking the glass. He takes a sip and watches Jack open the envelope with his medication chart. Jack takes out a series of pill bottles and reads the labels, then taps two different pills into his hand and holds them out to Curt. Curt takes them and swallows them down with the rest of the water. 

"Jack's Heart," Jack says as he lies down next to Curt again. 

Curt stares at him. "You don't gotta claim me quite so hard, Jack. Everyone already knows we're a set."

"That a no?"

Curt beams and reaches for Jack. "No fucking way is that a no. You wanna yell it from the rooftops, I'll meet you up there."

Jack kisses him and noses his cheek. "Go to sleep," he says. "I'll tell Ken in the morning." 

Curt tips his chin for one more kiss and thinks about what Bucky said about saving some luck for the rest of them. How could he ever be short of it with a guy like Jack by his side, he thinks as he falls asleep.

[tunkers05]

red light (Javier Peña x Reader) (1/?)

series masterlist

authors note: hi! this is my first time writing in a while. feedback is much appreciated!

From the moment I stepped off the plane and into Colombia, I felt the sweltering of the world around me. Everything seemed to move with a simmering haze I was not accustomed to. It wasn’t just the heat, it was the complete aura of my new “home”. The new food, new job, new home, new car without AC. It all seemed like some sort of mirage that I couldn’t snap out of. I still haven’t been able to. Three months of being in a country hasn’t gotten easier, but I didn’t expect it to.

I moved here for similar reasons to those in my line of work. I wanted to help people. That’s the reason why I entered my profession in the first place. If you had told me when I was young that I would end up trying to take down the richest drug dealers in the world, I don’t think I could fathom you would be right. But then I found myself hiding behind the couch watching shows of good guys stopping bad guys and I knew that’s what I needed to do. Somehow all of this led me to working in Miami trying to intercept drug shipments, and now preventing them in Colombia. 

If you didn’t know me, you would be confused about how teaching English to primary school kids would fix this. If you did know me, you would know I was only doing this to get the government off my back. I work for the DEA, but for obvious reasons, I have a cover. It’s not really a cover when I do the work for both jobs. I don’t normally think the agents sent to the embassy have to work two jobs, but I guess my conditions of being here aren't like normal agents. I should have remembered that when I walked into my classroom. I was confused by the sight of a man sitting by my desk. Mainly because he was blonde and I hadn’t recalled meeting many blonde men in Colombia. “Hello? Can I help you?”, I called out to him once I realized I really didn’t know who he was.

He stood up and turned to me and that’s when I saw his face unobstructed. He was taller than me and wore a short loose button down. He smiled briefly before reaching out to shake my hand, “Steve Murphy. Are you Ms (y/n) (y/l/n)?”.

“Yes, I am. Can I ask why you are in my classroom at 7 in the morning, Steve Murphy?”, I didn’t take his hand. I kept my distance and started immediately thinking of every way I could escape him. I don’t take to trusting random men very well, especially when they seem to have a reason to need me.

“I work for the DEA. I hear you do too.”

“Prove it.”

He looked annoyed at my response as if he just expected me to believe everything that came out of his mouth. He pulled out a badge, “Does this work?”. I stepped to him and looked at his badge. It was definitely real, and that proved why he knew who I was, and my whereabouts. 

I closed the door and turned back to him. “Okay. Can you tell me why you are here?”, I visibly relaxed at his presence, “People aren’t supposed to know I’m DEA.”

“I know and I know this is putting you at risk. We figured it would be best that I talk to you here rather than at your apartment. I need to ask you a favor.”, he sat back down and motioned for me to sit at my desk. I moved to the desk and placed my bag down, “Not sure I love the sound of that, Steve.”

“Just hear me out. Escobar has been recruiting kids from the area to help him out with his trafficking. We need you to see if you can find anything out from your students.”

A small flame of anger flashed into my brain at even the thought of him thinking he could ask me that question. “You know I can’t do that, Steve.”

He sighed and ran his hand down his face, “Can’t or won’t?”

The small flame started festering into a fire. My fingernails were stinging into my palm, trying to keep myself cool. I sighed before looking at him, “Steve, I am sure you know that when I came here I said I would never mix DEA work with being a teacher”.

“Listen, I know. And I know that it feels wrong but isn’t letting Escobar manipulate them worse?”

“Don’t play morality with me. I came here to help people, not spy on kids who trust me. If that’s all you have to say, you can leave.”, I crossed my arms with a growing scowl on my face.

“We are on the same side here, literally. I know you have your reasons, but so do I. I haven’t brought this up with the ambassador yet. But if I need to, I will.”, he stood up to leave but I knew I couldn’t let him have the last word on this.

“I am here to teach these kids English in the one non hostile environment they have. I won’t taint that just because you can’t do your part of the job well enough. It’s always been a hard no for me, and it will continue that way. No matter if you talk to the ambassador or not”, I said scowling at him as he left. 

I know about Steve Murphy. We do different work for the DEA, but I know about what he has done. I don’t care if it has come to a moment of necessity for him. I know the odds always seem stacked against his team, but we all have to face this. I sighed and placed my hands in my head. I don’t think I could imagine interrogating the students who walk into my classroom. No matter what information I end up getting will negate how terrible I feel. My morals are the one single string I can hold onto in this confusing situation I’m in.

[love-love-evol]

songs i see redacted characters as 👍

read more cause this is a long post

Darlin:

Real men don't need other people / And real men suck it in / Real men don't flinch or bleed in public / Oh, I think I'm a real man

…

Though honestly sir, all I wanna do/ Is get naked in front of you / So you can look me up and down / And tell me, "Well done girl, you're looking good"

Real men keep cool in the face of a fire / Go down with the ship / And real men don't eat, 'cause they're above that, damn it / Oh, I'm gonna be a real man

Though honestly sir, all I wanna do / Is get naked in front of you / So you can look me up and down / And give me your love for being so good

…

(real men by mitski)

Sam:

…

And say I wear my sorrow like a crown / And throw your arms around my head, and see it there in gold and red and brown

As heavy as a history book can be / I will carry it with me, oh Lord / And maybe when the bitterness has gone / There'll be sweetness on our tongues once more

We'll soon forget our parents' names / Like dogs will drive the wolves away / And weep with fingertips opposed / Like a church where nobody congregates

But sweetness sings in the pasture / We throw ourselves on the mercy of the earth / If sand and salt have the answer / Then the act itself will be louder than the word

And I'll be on your side

…

(history book by dry the river)

Both Sam and Darlin:

…

And I haven't left the house in 100 years / And you haven't left yours in 100 hours / And we can't keep our hands out of our own mouths / See the horrible habits we acquire

…

And how my stomach burns, but only at night/ When the moon is bright / And I have dreams about bears / With the reddest mouths / But your arms are warm / And your legs are wrapped around / And the sound of your heart

The unsteady sound, I will slow it down

(nervous rex by laura stevenson)

Lovely:

Sun, we have not been friends / We have not spoke in months / Or even made amends

Time, you can have your way / And if you take my nights / Would you leave me my days /

If I, I can't see myself / As the lights go down / I won't see no one else

…

Sun, oh, you do me no good / None of my plans work out / The way I thought they would

If I, I can't be myself / And if the lights won't shine / I'll become someone else

…

So none of my dreams come true / So now I miss you

…

(neon lights by dancing years)

Vincent:

…

Mirror mirror on the wall / What's the meaning of it all?

Wasted all the time / Nothing lasts forever / Maybe I should give up the good fight / Change my image overnight

One thing that I know is that / You don't know a thing about me / I am the young, dumb, chosen one / Losing in the loveliest way / Kids these days

…

(kids these days by shakey graves)

Asset:

Wake me up / Remind me brother, / of who I am / I'm made up, / If I am in pieces we'd be together again

Let's go / To where you remember, hand in hand

I am nothing / I was a hitch / in your program / I was waitin', / watchin', / You held in your hands

…

(hand in hand by makeup and vanity set)