#stocks on radar

[vaporwave]

[ravetamer]

everybody.. have a whimsical radar… oooh you love my interpretation of the skrungly oooh 🌀🌀🌀

and of course there’s AIDEN UNDER THE CUT!!!! i do this to you guys because every time i step into the tumblr gates i miss him

bet u werent expecting THAT :devious:

[m4gp13]

Hc that Ethan is naturally very perceptive and has a really good gut instinct for taking note of things that slip under most people’s radars, hence how he was able to figure out Percy’s Achilles heel, and this is why Nemesis chose to take his eye specifically

In addition to this, hc that he and the Stolls were quite good friends during his CHB years because he could always tell which one he was talking to from a glance and never mixed them up.

[eugene-apologist]

As someone who’s most inclined to ship radar with klinger, Hawkeye, etc, it has kind of become part of my canon that his type is pretty boys

[cambriancutie]

can someone give me 200$ so i spend it on the limited edition dvd box set of squid girl

[taxi-davis]

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining being nervous around the 141 and yet STILL garnering their attention.

Like, you've done everything in your power NOT to get noticed. You're as happy as a clam to work on all the behind the scenes issues. You don't even go out on the field!

You're the one to get gear in place, you're the one talking to Nik and supervising the equipment repairs. You make sure the armory is stocked and that the showers aren't running with rusty water.

You really DON'T want any eyes on you.

You just want to do your job and do it in fucking peace.

So why the hell are they always wanting your attention?

-

"There she is. Keepin' everything in order while 'm gone." Price chuckles, placing a hand on your back as he passes through the armory's narrow shelves. "Looking to take my spot as Captain hm, Love?"

You bury your face into your clipboard, trying desperately to ignore him. He's not going away but God do you want him to. His presence is always so overwhelming and his gaze so pointed. If you could shrink into nothingness you'd try.

-

"Oi, Bonnie!" Soap calls out to you at mess. He waves his arms wildly, making everyone look his way. "C'mere! Sit w' us today!"

He's so loud his voice echoes across the cafeteria. Recruits and lower ranking members shrink at the sound of it. So do you, even though you can hear only excitement in his tone instead of the usual ire he employs while training the rookies.

You know that if you decide to sit with your friends you'll never hear the end of it. But if you choose to sit with him and the rest of the all star task force you'll be under their gazes for the better part of the morning. You want to just drop your lunch tray and run out, but on unsteady legs and a bowed head you shuffle to the table.

-

"Well well, look who it is." Gaz huffs, looking up from his terminal set up in the surveillance room. "Thanks for packing those extra headset chords for me."

"Uh...yeah, no problem." You nod, trying to ignore him while simultaneously digging in an old box full of wires.

"Whatcha lookin' for?"

"Uh...a mouse. A wireless one."

"Here, take mine." He smiles, unplugging the tiny chip from the side of his laptop. "Need a new one anyway."

"It's alright I-"

"Just take it. You deserve it more than me." He hums, looking away wistfully. "If it weren't for those extra cords we wouldn't 'ave been able to call for evac on that last mission."

You take the mouse into your palm, feeling uneasy. Something about his demeanor isn't right. Gaz is always confident and sure. But the way he glances at you before he turns back to the computer makes you worried.

Is he...jealous?

You slip out of the door and close it behind you without making a sound.

-

"Need t' put a bell on you." Ghost grumbles. "Can't hear you n' those."

You stop midway down the hallway, confused and nervous.

You look down at your old, beat up reg boots from your PT days. They were definitely in need for a decommissioning, but they were comfy despite the fact that the soles had no tread anymore.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." You awkwardly mumble. "Need new ones."

"No."

You raise a brow at him. It was just the two of you in one of the maintenance hallways which was, ironically enough, poorly maintained. The overhead fluorescents flickered and made it hard to focus.

"Keep 'em." He nods, turning away and showing you the full breadth of his back. He mutters at you as while he keeps walking on.

"Keeps you under the radar."

[miryum]

An arranged marriage with James Potter

Something had happened over the summer that made James Potter the most love-sick fool in all of Hogwarts. Purebloods being purebloods, it wasn’t uncommon for children to be paired up early on to secure the bloodline. While this happened mostly between the old-arching Slytherin families, an example being Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black, every once in a while, the other houses would participate too. 

Such was the case with James Potter and Y/n L/n. The L/n’s had spanned generations, stretching back to even the Gaunt’s time. But, such as the Gaunt family, the L/n family had run into some bad luck. Stocks didn’t go the way they wanted or something of the sort and now they were in ruining trouble. 

Euphemia Potter was usually one to scoff at arranged marriages, wanting the children to find love for themselves, blood status be damned. However, the L/n’s were good friends of hers and James had written home multiple times about their daughter. From his letters, it seemed as if the two were already dating. It was a perfect coincidence. Euphemia and Fleamont agreed instantly, lifting the weight of a thousand bricks off of the patriarch of the L/n household. 

However, James and Y/n were not dating. Much to James’ annoyance, the only thing between them was his unrequited infatuation towards Y/n. 

So that’s where the pair found themselves at the beginning of seventh year. Y/n L/n trying to fly under the radar and not draw any attention to herself or the new ring on her finger, and James Potter doing everything in his power to show off their relationship and spoil her in front of everyone. 

It began at the start of the year feast. James had an arm around Y/n’s shoulder the entire time. When a third year nervously asked if the two were dating, staring reverently up at James, the boy grinned and looked to Y/n. “I don’t know, love, are we?”

Y/n pushed James’ arm off her shoulder and indelicately said, “no. Take him.” The third year blushed and mumbled their way out of the conversation as James clutched his wounded heart.

During classes, James would loudly correct the professors from Miss. L/n to Mrs. Potter. It earned him wry smiles from McGonagall and Sprout, chuckles from Slughorn and Flitwick, and a cold glare from Y/n. The students all looked a bit confused whenever this happened, but chalked it up to the usual antics of James Potter. 

In the courtyard or by the Black Lake, James would lay his head on Y/n’s lap, even if she pushed him off or was sitting with her knees up. There were roses on her bed and notes in her bag and it got to the point where Y/n didn’t even question how James had snuck into her dorm. 

If Y/n ever went to Hogsmead, James was sure to follow. No matter what she bought, he would pay for. Even if she got frustrated, he would slip the galleons up onto the counter, grinning at the cashier. He wanted to show her that he could provide for her and give her a nice home. As she would walk from shop to shop, he would point out colours of shops, saying, “oh, that would be a good colour for our bathroom. Look at that little cuckoo clock! Y/n, we have to get it.”

He would follow wherever she went, asking what seemed like meaningless questions. Have you ever had any pets? Do you like the country or city better? Any aspirations for your career? What’s a place you always wanted to visit? Y/n thought nothing of it, but to James, her answers were slowly sculpting his future. Would she want a dog or a cat in our home? Where should our house be? I would like the country so our kids could run around more, but we can easily make the city work if she wants. Should I be a stay-at-home dad? Or could we juggle two careers? Where should our honeymoon be? 

Quidditch games were no better, because after every goal the chaser scored – and he scored a lot – he would look to the stands, find his fiancée, and blow her a kiss. Before every match, one of his spare jerseys would be laid out on her bed, a small note attached, begging her to wear it. She never did and he always gave her a pout when he realised it. And God forbid she didn’t go to the games. Once, she had been studying for an upcoming exam and hadn’t been able to make it. James had thrown a fit. Sirius had to drag him away from Madame Hooch before he secured an entire year of detention, but the boy still refused to get in the air. Madame Hooch threatened to start the game and make Gryffindor play a catcher down, but thankfully Remus and Peter had just found Y/n and dragged her to the pitch. The moment James saw her, he beamed and kicked off, broom now in the air. They had ended up winning. James spent the afterparty with his head on Y/n’s lap, arms reaching up to encircle her waist. He continuously reminded her how awful it would’ve been if she hadn’t shown up and only shut up when she began running her fingers through his hair.

And every night, no matter if he went to bed first or she did, James would always go over to Y/n and give her a soft kiss on the forehead and a whispered, “sweet dreams.” No matter where she was, this became a daily occurance in Y/n’s life. At first, she tried to avoid it by sneaking off to the library whenever James began yawning and tossing around the idea of going to bed. But he would find her. She tried the kitchens, hoping he didn’t think to look for her there. But he would find her. She tried being in a group with her friends, in animated conversations. But he would weave his way through the group, step in front of her, and still say goodnight. It was like he had this magical map that told him where she was at all times. It was bloody infuriating. 

Much to James’ dismay, no progress seemed to be made. At least she was staying faithful to her fiancé, the Marauders reassured him as James griped and moaned. He would sling himself onto a common room chair, conveniently in the earshot of his dearest. Y/n would just roll her eyes. 

The majority of Hogwarts didn’t know what to do with them. The girls would swoon when they heard the new thing James Potter had come up with to woo Y/n L/n. The boys would huff and grumble about needing to step up their own game when it came to their girlfriends. James was setting the bar too high. The teachers would sit around, taking time to sip a well-deserved drink, as they complained how if L/n didn’t soon see the boy that was right in front of her, helpless to his love, then Potter was going to have a breakdown.

Yet, Y/n continued to push him away. James could be patient. He had been waiting practically seven years – he could wait a little more, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hurt whenever she brushed him off. She could’ve said no to the engagement. She could’ve punched or hexed him. It didn’t seem like she truly hated him, more like she was embarrassed and tired of him. 

“I don’t get it,” James said finally one night. He laid out on his bed, long limbs stretching over the place as Peter and Sirius played Exploding Snap on the floor. 

Remus was reading on his own bed. The werewolf sighed, knowing where this was going. “What don’t you get, Prongs?” 

“Why doesn’t Y/n like me?” James murmured, looking at his friends with large, hurt eyes. 

“Mate,” Sirius said. One of the cards exploded, making Peter flinch. “Listen. She likes you, yeah? How else are you able to get close to her? I swear, you were practically on top of her a couple days ago.” He scoffed and laid down a card. 

James groaned loudly and exclaimed, “but I’ve tried everything! Hell, we’re literally engaged! I can’t go through an entire marriage like this. Especially not with the woman I love.”

Peter piped up, smiling sincerely at James. “Hey, I’m sure she’ll realise it soon enough. I think she loves you back. She’s just scared.”

“But I’m me!” James shouted out. “I’m not scary!” He looked around wildly at his friends. “Am I?” he asked pathetically.

“I think if you have to ask if you’re scary,” Remus pointed out, “then you’re not scary.”

Sirius grinned. “Excellent point, as always, Moony.”

Remus sighed and gave James a pointed look. “Perhaps, the best thing to do is talk to her. Since she is your future wife, after all.” 

“I do talk to her!” James argued. “I ask her about her day and tell her about our pranks. She- she responds. She’s very sweet, you know, but she never shows any affection.”

“Maybe you’re pressuring her,” Peter commented. “By being all lovey-dovey. You could try being her friend first?”

James didn’t think he could do that. He already thought of Y/n as his wife. He already thought of her as one of his best friends. But what else could he do to get her to feel the same way?

The next week, James took Peter’s words into consideration. Instead of leaving flowers in her dorm, James asked if he could join her in the library for a study session. Instead of blowing her kisses during Quidditch games, he just waved. Instead of envisioning their future, he focused on the present. 

It wasn’t until three weeks had passed that James noticed the results. Y/n began coming to him with some questions on schoolwork. Y/n waved back at Quidditch games, shooting him a thumbs up in encouragement. Y/n wouldn’t fiddle with her engagement ring nervously, as if worried someone would spot it. 

The girl noticed her changed behaviour too. On a random Thursday, when James came to kiss her goodnight, she paused her conversation and whispered back, “sleep well,” angling her body so he wouldn’t have to reach as far to kiss her temple. Soon after, she excused herself from her friends, flustered. Y/n paced around her dorm, twisting the ring back and forth. 

A knock came at the door. “Hey,” James murmured as he pushed open the door. “Are you okay?”

Y/n turned to face him. “You actually care about me, don’t you?” she whispered. 

James couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course,” he replied. “Why on earth would you think otherwise?”

She shrugged. “It seemed fake, you know? Like this one big prank to single me out. But then you actually seemed excited and willing to marry me, James. Marriage. This is the rest of our lives and we haven’t even kissed!”

James cracked a smirk. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I can fix that really easily.”

“But you think you’re in this for the long run?” Y/n asked desperately. “For- for the fights? The late nights? The chores? And we haven’t even talked if we want kids or not!”

“Love,” he interrupted her spiral. “Have you thought about the waking up every morning in my arms? The dancing in the kitchen for no reason? The anniversary dinners where I profess my love over and over again?” He stepped forward, placing his warm hands on her arms soothingly. “And if you want, I would love to have mini replicas of us running around, waking us up in the middle of the night because of a night terror. I would love for them to disrupt our dancing in the kitchen by demanding they want to dance too. And I would love for them to groan when they see me being all sappy towards my wife.”

How could any girl say no when James Potter was standing before her, promising her endless devotion? The kiss was slow, James’ lips slowly moving against hers. He revelled in the warmth of her body and how her head tilted to him as he cupped her cheek gently. All short and lovely and sweet, the kisses were exactly how James had dreamed. 

The couple parted and the boy stared down at her. His finger went up to brush her bottom lip before murmuring, “will you marry me?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

[maskedbyghost]

Shadows of Obsession (part 5)

part 1 TW: obsessive behavior, mentions of killing, harm, and potential danger to the character

She leaned against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The soft hum of the safe house filled the space, but her attention was locked on Simon, who sat at the table meticulously cleaning his weapon. His movements were calm and practiced as if nothing in the world could bother him. But she had been stewing on her thoughts all morning, and now she needed answers.

“So…”

Simon didn’t look up, his focus still on the disassembled parts before him. “Hm?”

“What exactly did you tell Price about… all this?” she asked, her words deliberate. “About me being here?”

For a moment, Simon’s hands paused—just a fraction of a second—before he resumed his work, wiping the barrel with a precision that seemed almost excessive.

“Told him it was your idea,” he said simply, his voice steady.

She blinked, caught off guard by how normal he seemed after saying something like that. “What?”

He finally set down the cleaning rag, lifting his gaze to meet hers. His eyes, as always, were unreadable even without his mask, but there was something in his posture that made her stomach twist.

“Told him you wanted to go off the radar until we could find whoever’s after you. Said it’d keep you safe. Price agreed,” he continued.

Her eyebrows shot up. “You lied to Price?”

Simon shrugged one shoulder, his gaze unflinching. “Aye. I did.”

She stared at him, searching for an explanation. “Why?”

This time, he didn’t hesitate. “Because it’s what I wanted. Keeps you out of harm’s way. Keeps you… here.”

She opened her mouth to respond but found she couldn’t. Because the truth in his tone was unmistakable—Simon didn’t just want her safe. He wanted her there, with him.

-

She was bored. Restless. The kind of aimless energy that left her pacing the house, flipping through half-read books, and staring out the same windows that showed the same nothingness. Simon had been off in his corner, sharpening his knives and brooding in silence for hours.

The idea struck her out of nowhere. Cooking. Why not?

The house’s pantry was surprisingly well-stocked, though everything was either canned, dried, or vacuum-sealed. But she managed to cobble together a recipe in her head and got to work. Soon, the sharp sizzle of vegetables in a pan and the warm, fragrant aroma of spices filled the air.

When it was ready, she called out, “Dinner’s done!”

Simon appeared in the doorway and looked at the table, then at her, his head tilting slightly in that way he did when he was trying to figure something out.

She gestured to the plate she’d set down for him. “Sit. Eat.”

He didn’t argue, though his hesitation was obvious. He sat down heavily, the chair creaking slightly under his weight, and picked up his fork.

The moment the first bite hit his tongue, his entire body stilled. His eyes widened, his chewing slowed, and he set his fork down like he needed a moment to process what had just happened.

She frowned. “What? Is it bad?”

Simon shook his head, his throat working as he swallowed. “No. It’s… good,” he said, his voice lower and rougher than usual.

But inside, Simon Riley was absolutely unraveling. Ring. Marriage. Babies. Lots of babies. Get her pregnant now. The words screamed in his head, looping relentlessly as he stared at her.

Oblivious, she went back to eating, offering him a small smile before chatting idly about how long it had been since she’d cooked for anyone.

Simon didn’t hear a word. He was too busy picturing their future together. And it wasn’t just the food that had him spiraling; it was the sheer ease of it. The way she had done something so effortlessly kind, so normal, just for him.

He finished his plate in silence, memorizing every detail of the moment. And by the time he set down his fork, he had made up his mind. She would never know, but tonight had sealed her fate.

Because Simon didn’t just want her anymore. He needed her. And no one—no enemy, no circumstance, not even fate itself—was going to take her away from him.

*a few days later*

The sun had long since set, leaving the house cloaked in darkness. The faint hum of the refrigerator was the only sound in the small kitchen as she stood by the counter, staring out the window at the nothingness beyond. It was stifling—this endless waiting, the silence, the feeling of being trapped.

She didn’t know if it was the isolation, the lack of control, or his maddeningly calm demeanor, but something inside her snapped.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she blurted out, breaking the quiet.

Simon didn’t even look up from the table, his attention still fixed on the knife he was cleaning. “Do what?” he asked, his voice low and even.

“This!” She gestured around the room, her frustration bubbling over. “Sitting here, hiding, doing nothing while they’re still out there!”

Now he looked up, his eyes locking onto hers with a piercing intensity. “It’s not nothing. It’s staying alive.”

She slammed her hands on the table, glaring at Simon with a fire that matched the storm building in her chest. “I’m sick of just sitting here, Simon! I can help! You know I can!”

Simon leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, the knife and cloth forgotten on the table. “No.”

“No?” she echoed, her voice rising. “That’s your whole argument? Just ‘no’?”

“It’s too dangerous.” His voice was clipped, firm, and final in a way that made her want to scream.

“Too dangerous for who? For me?” She pointed to herself, her hands trembling with frustration. “Or for you because you’re afraid you’ll have to trust me for once?”

His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You think this is about trust? It’s about keeping you alive. You don’t know what these people are capable of.”

“Oh, and you do?” she shot back, refusing to back down even as his tone turned colder. “I’m not some helpless damsel, Simon! I have a right to fight back!”

“Not on my watch.” His tone was low, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver down her spine, though she refused to show it.

Her breath hitched. “That’s what this is, isn’t it? Your watch. Your control. You get to decide what I can and can’t do while I’m stuck here in this… this prison you’ve built for me!”

Simon flinched, just barely, but it was enough for her to notice. Still, he stood his ground, his voice cold. “It’s not a prison. It’s a house. Our house.”

“It’s the same damn thing, Simon!” she shouted, her voice breaking as frustration and anger welled up inside her. “I can’t wait to get out of here. Away from you.”

Without waiting for his response, she turned and stormed down the hall, slamming the door to her room shut behind her. She leaned against it, her chest heaving as she tried to calm her racing heart.

In the silence that followed, Simon stood frozen, her words echoing in his mind. Away from you.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought against the wave of emotions threatening to break through his carefully constructed walls. Anger. Guilt. Fear.

He knew he’d pushed too hard, been too stubborn, too controlling. But the idea of her out there, in harm’s way, was unbearable. He could face any enemy, endure any pain, but the thought of losing her—it was the one thing he couldn’t handle.

After a moment, he exhaled sharply and ran a hand down his face, his mind racing. He couldn’t leave things like this. Not when every instinct in his body was screaming at him to fix it. To protect her.

She paced the small room, her hands shaking with residual anger. How dare he? How dare he treat her like a child, like someone who couldn’t handle herself? She wasn’t some fragile thing that needed his constant protection.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and her heart skipped a beat. She froze, debating whether to answer.

“Let me in,” Simon said, his voice quieter now.

She hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob. On the other side, she could hear his measured breathing, as if he was battling something within himself, something he wasn’t sure he could contain.

PART 6

-------------------------------------------

let me know what you think babess

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving @blackhawkfanatic @identity2212 @tessakate @lem-hhn

[thesirencult]

Pick A Card Reading 18+ :

His Late Night Thoughts About You

Pile 1

Knight Of Cups, 7 Of Cups, 5 Of Pentacles, 8 of cups

You make this man sweat. He writes and rewrites paragraphs, his pupils dilating every time a thought of you passes his mind. He wants all of you. He sees you as a dominant figure and wants you to take over.

He likes it when you play hard to get and you may both be into that.

He wants to worship you and write songs about your body.

He specifically thinks a lot about stealing kisses in inappropriate moments while caressing your neck and hair.

He really wants you to refuse him and let him chase you until you make him beg for your touch.

Pile 2

3 Of Cups, The Tower, Ace Of Cups, The World

Another simp for my pile 2 (we love seeing that here). This one might be a switch that wants to both dominate and be dominated psychologically.

He wants to hungrily kiss your neck and grab your hair. His kisses ravaging you and lighting up a flame in your core.

He loves stockings and your breasts, might be quite tall and he loves fantasizing about your facial expressions while you are having fun.

Legs on shoulders position might be his favourite and he is quite strong, even if he is not that muscular. A loving savage.

After the ravaging, lots of cuddles and kisses will follow along with pillow talk.

Pile 3

8 Of Cups, Knight Of Pentacles, The Empress, Knight Of Swords, 10 Of Wands, King Of Pentacles

"Are you lost baby girl?" but it's your towns sleazy cop. Kidding! This man is nothing but sleazy. Steadfast and serious he sees you as being leagues above him.

"I don't deserve her." He might say to friends and family. He is fantasizing of getting your attention and riding off to the sunset.

Well, riding is certainly involved in his fantasies. Sometimes they are not that sexual but involve more intimate contact.

He is thinking about riding a motorcycle with you and having you wrapping your hands around him. Cold weather making you shiver while he opens the door to let you in his apartment.

He has these wild fantasies about seducing you and then handcuffing you and making you submit. In a loving way though! This is a gentleman!

I feel like this one is taken aback by his fantasies over you. He seems pretty cool, calm and collected and you may not even believe these thoughts would cross his mind.

Let him slip through the door and you'll find out.

He wants to pick you up and kiss you and he is attracted to your curves. If you have lower back dimples he loves them and he also loves your hair up.

He is like "Come here baby I won't bite!" and loves it when you are your genuine, innocent self. Honestly? A kind, gentle "giant". This person seems stoic but they become a puddle of love when near you. Grumpy and sunshine.

Small note : They don't realize you do small gestures to seduce them but they get super turned on! As an example, touching his arm or burying your head on his chest or ruffling his hair.

Pile 4

7 Of Pentacles, The Hermit, The Hierophant, The Lovers

This person loves watching you from afar. Their fantasies involve them stalking you and watching you take your clothes off before taking a shower.

If you are into both men and women they would want to have you with multiple partners or have you worship them like others do. These are fantasies they will never talk about because they don't care about actualising them.

They might already be in a relationship but don't want to cheat on their partner. You are on their radar though.

[downbadf0rficppl]

sweater weather

Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: While caught out in a snowstorm while on a mission, you resort to desperate measures to keep warm.

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Canon violence, slightly injured reader, smut, manhandling, soft sex, facefucking

Repost

The mission was long. And hard. And all you wanted now was a nice, long nap.

Steve had brought up this particular mission while you two were hiding in Manila. You always preferred the warmer destinations, even when you worked for SHIELD.

It was a simple mission - too simple in hindsight - the grab-the-file-and-get-out type.

"It's Austria," you sighed, again with the cold. "I know, sweets, but it's an ex-Hydra base. We gotta check it out, make sure they don't have anything they shouldn't."

You nodded, "When do we leave?"

"Wheels up in an hour."

When you landed in Austria, your mood soured quickly. There was a foot of snow surrounding the town, and you trudged through the snow to get to the safehouse - a mile away from the nearest town. You were staking out the safe house when the entire town lost power. No lights, no heating, no appliances. It was going to be a rough couple of days.

You bundled yourself in a coat and blankets while you and Steve went over what you knew. The old Hydra base had been abandoned for a while, but it was one of the few that hadn't been on SHIELD's radar due to the lack of activity in the area. It seemed that they had missed something. It seemed very active now.

You spent the first few days making sure no one suspected you were doing anything suspicious. You stocked up on firewood - making sure you would have enough, even if you ended up snowed in for a couple of days. You tried to get out to some shops, but with the three inches of snow in the local town, no shops were open. You hoped that there was some long-life food still left in the safe house.

When you set out, you silently prayed that the power would come back on by the time you had finished dealing with the agents in the bunker. You also thanked Tony for putting a heater in your suit as part of one of his routine upgrades. You weren't freezing your ass off as you broke into the base.

The bunker itself was powered by some self-generating form of energy - no doubt developed as a result of Loki's scepter in the hands of Baron Von Strucker. The bunker was still working at peak capacity when you and Steve waltzed in the building, guns a-blazing, looking for any signs they were planning something big.

The bunker clearly had been expecting you, launching a full assault on you as soon as you guys walked in. Agents flew left, right, and centre, throwing kicks and punches. The odd bullet was fired at your heads. They were good. But you were much better. You dodged each blow, retaliating with one much harder. They may have had power but it was amateur. You were a battle-hardened professional.

One guy was lucky. He took a baton to your ribcage while you were preoccupied with two other guys. Clearly, he hadn't learned to play fair. You threw the other two guys off you, kicking your assailant into the wall. A nasty crack was the end of him.

You left the bunker exhausted, gripping a nasty bruise that was forming over your ribs. Steve wrapped an arm around you, carrying your weight as you hobbled from the bunker. He abandoned the idea quickly, your height difference making the maneuver awkward. Instead, he wrapped his arms under your thighs, scooping you up bridal style.

You nuzzled into his chest, seeking out his warmth as the snow beat down upon you both. Steve was like a human furnace, his heat radiating through you, keeping you warm even in the hostile temperatures you found yourself in. He smiled down at you, gripping you tighter into his body as you retreated into the trees.

It was about 12 miles from the bunker to the safe house and Steve knew he had to get you both there before the blizzard really hit. There he could check your ribs for the extent of the damage. He prayed that the damage wasn't bad, guilt overtaking his mind. A few seconds of preoccupation on his part led to you being injured. Steve felt terrible.

He was also on high alert. There was no exfil team. They weren't Avengers anymore. They were on their own out here - even Nat wouldn't be able to get here in time if they were attacked.

The trudge through the snow was terrible. Frost covered your hair and his beard, and the chills were racking through your body with more frequency. The snow was seeping through your tactical gear, and given that night was fast falling around them, Steve picked up the pace.

More than once, you offered to walk alongside him, saying that you'd both be faster if you could run, but then an odd step would jolt your body and the pained gasp that would leave your lips was an answer enough.

By the time you reached the house, you had fallen asleep in Steve's arms. He kicked the door open with his toe - the key being a biometric scan of his eye.

You woke up as he sat you down gently on the edge of the sofa.

"Welcome back to the land of the living sleeping beauty." He chuckled as you threw your boot at his head. He caught it easily.

You almost swooned. Sometimes, you thought Steve showed off just to get a reaction out of you. You didn't mind - it was hot.

Steve shut the door with a click, kicking off his shoes by the door. You shivered. Somehow it was colder inside the house than outside. Steve grabbed your bag, throwing a pair of soft clean clothes in your direction, before grabbing some firewood and getting a fire started.

You limped into the bathroom, the coldness making your bones ache. You made quick work of your suit - throwing it into the bathtub, before toweling yourself dry. The wetness of the suit had chaffed at your skin, and the threadbare towel was doing nothing to help the soreness of your skin, but a little itchiness was nothing compared to the hell that would be a cold. Especially since you had no idea when you were getting out of here.

"The power's still out!" Steve called from outside the bathroom. You could tell he was leaning on the door frame, ever the gentleman, even in sub-freezing temperatures.

"Yeah, no shit sherlock." You mumble under your breath as you open the door.

Steve smirked, "I caught that." You gave him a sarcastic smile back. He passed you to go dry off, "No hot water, so I dumped my suit in the tub to dry." You said, leaning on the door frame to take in the picture in front of you.

Steve's usually prim and proper appearance was dishevelled, hair run through multiple times. His suit was half-unzipped, toned chest visible under the confines of the tight fabric. A spattering of hair grew on his chest - the result of multiple back-to-back missions. And, of course, being an internationally-wanted fugitive.

He gave you a nod of confirmation, before shutting the door. You turned around to be hit by a wave of warmth. In the time it took you to pull the skin-tight tac suit off your body - which, let's be honest, took quite a while seeing as it was soaked - Steve had managed to get a fire going.

You huddled close to the fire, pulling your legs into your chest and tucking your face into your knees. You stayed there while Steve stirred in the bathroom - the occasional grunt as he bumped into the things making you giggle.

You shuffled closer to the fire, trying to steal every ounce of warmth to warm your frigid body.

"Careful, doll, you might burn yourself." You looked up at him and smiled, reaching for him as he walked towards you. He sat behind you, arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You relaxed into his arms. This was nice. You needed to do this more.

He ran his fingers over your ribs, goosebumps following in his path. You winced slightly as he applied pressure. "Not broken." He whispered, hot breath ghosting over your ear. You shivered lightly.

Steve pulled you into a chair, before retrieving the first aid kit. He sat you down, before sinking to his knees in front of you. You clenched your thighs slightly, the action pushing your mind to filth. If Steve noticed, he said nothing. He rolled up your sleeves and your trousers, revealing a plethora of small cuts and bruises that littered your body. Steve made quick work of treating your superficial wounds, smiling sympathetically when you winced at the sting of antiseptic against the cuts.

He snuck a hand under your shirt, locking eyes with you in a silent request for permission. You pulled up your shirt, revealing the large bruise over your ribs. There was a red mark in the centre of the bruise where the pole had hit you. Steve gently wiped it with an alcohol wipe, before applying Arnica cream to the bruise. You watched him tenderly patch you up.

"I'm sorry." His words surprise you.

"What?"

"I should have been there. To protect you."

You scoffed, "In case it slipped your memory, you were preoccupied. It's not your fault."

He nodded silently, rolling your shirt back down. He started to pack up the kit, but you grabbed his arm, dragging him back to sit where you had been sat moments before.

"You're hurt too, Captain," you said, sinking to your knees in front of him in the same way he had. The effect you had on him was far more visible. His face blushed a bright red, and you smiled coyly.

You bandaged up the graze on his leg, hands lingering longer than they needed to. You pushed yourself off the floor and occupied yourself with the knots in his shoulders. The adrenaline made both your bodies tense, but while you had had the time to relax in Steve's arms, he hadn't had that same luxury.

You ran your fingertips over his shoulders, kneading the particularly tight parts. Steve let out a low groan in appreciation, resting his forehead on your stomach. The sound sent electricity through your body, heat pooling at the bottom of your stomach.

Steve's hands came around to rest on your thighs, pulling you closer into his body like he couldn't bear to be apart from you for even a moment.

You leaned to whisper into his hair, "It's not your fault, Steve." His hold on you only became tighter.

You stood like that for a while, your arms running up and down Steve's back while he convinced himself that you were fine.

He walked out back to grab more firewood, promising he'd be back in a few seconds. You smiled to yourself, fingers ghosting over your lips. The thought of kissing Steve was overwhelming, but you didn't want to push him when you weren't sure of exactly how he felt.

You had a pretty good idea though.

Ever since you had joined the Avengers, you had been close. But with the multiple near-end-of-the-world experiences, it never seemed like the right time to explore those feelings. Steve had always been affectionate, keeping close to you, both in public and private. He had bought you flowers regularly when you lived in New York, always remembered your birthday, protected you when Hydra agents and internet trolls attacked you. In return, you had stood by him in every fight that you could - you always had his back. He could count on that. When the dispute over the Sokovia accords had happened, you agreed with Steve - even if that meant you lost some close friends. In the years that followed, you had fought countless enemies side-by-side. Bucky sometimes joined you, Sam too. But for the most part, you two had become almost intimately acquainted.

You crept towards the kitchen, rifling through the cabinets for any long-life food that might have been kept there. You pulled a can out of the cupboard. Baked Beans. You pulled another can out of the cupboard. Baked Beans. And another. And another. And another. All beans.

Buried at the back of the cupboard was a single tin of Chicken Noodle Soup that was so out of date, the mold in it had probably bred a new organism. Baked beans it was then.

You heated the beans up in a pan, placing them over the roaring fire to warm them up. You huddled up to the fire again, chills wracking through your body, keeping the pan over the fire all the while. After a while, with the tomato sauce bubbling slightly, you pulled the pan away from the heat and stood up to serve it into the two cracked bowls that were left in the safe house. Tony had done a good job at emptying the safe houses after the end of the Avengers.

Your hands shook as you evenly distributed the beans. You could hardly bear to be this far away from the fire. You needed more layers, but your coat and your tac suit were soaked through, meaning you had nothing else to wear.

Your hands shook violently again as another shiver ripped through you. You tucked your hands under your armpits and raised your shoulders to cover your ears.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted something fuzzy draped on the edge of the sofa. Steve's jumper. He's been wearing it when he arrived in Austria but claimed that it was far too thick for him - immediately discarding it when you had entered the safe house. You didn't know how it had slipped your mind earlier.

You slipped it on - Steve hadn't lied. It was incredibly thick and cozy. And also quite large, dwarfing your figure, making you feel safe and warmed. You pushed up the sleeves and carried the bowls to the floor in front of the fire.

You noticed an extra pair of Steve's socks tucked into the front of his backpack. You quickly stole them, slipping them onto your feet. You were grateful that Steve was an over-packer.

You crouched back in front of the fire, pulling the jumper over your knees, balancing your bowl on your kneecaps.

You heard Steve before you saw him. He was carrying a pile of firewood in his arms and grumbling about how 'the stupid snow got in his boots and now his socks are wet'. You giggled.

"Glad you find my torment funny, sweets." He said, his eyes still trained on the wood in his eyes, "How would you feel if I got trench foot, and was benched for-" He stopped abruptly.

You looked up at him. His gaze was trained on your body, eyes darkening by the second.

"You shouldn't have done that, sweets."

Your face breaks into uncertainty. Maybe you had completely misread the situation. Maybe Steve only wanted to be friends.

The way he grabbed your face, though, told you differently.

He stooped low to cradle your face in his hands. He placed small kisses all over your face, pecking you like a bird would its food.

"You're mine." He whispered between each one. The declaration made heat pool in your stomach and you couldn't help but laugh. You grabbed his face with your hands, and pressed your lips to his, gently at first. Steve ran his tongue against your lips, begging to be let in.

You moaned as his tongue explored each and every part of your mouth. You could feel him getting harder every second that passed and that only spurred you on.

"Steve," his name fell from your lips like a prayer, "please."

He picked you up and you let out a soft gasp.

"You like that, sweetheart?"

You nodded, words cast from your mind. He chuckled, lust colouring his tone as he shuffled you in his arms.

"Makes me feel safe." You whispered, nestling your head into his shoulder. "Like it when you carry me."

He smiled and laid you on the sofa gently. He pressed deep and sensual kisses on your lips, large and warm hands caressing your body.

You arched your back as he ran a knuckle over your nipple. You were hopelessly horny, begging for friction.

"Tell me what you want, baby."

"You. Only you." You whimpered.

"Where do you want me?"

"Everywhere. Please, Steve." You were begging. Steve's eyes lit up.

"Want me to love you, pretty baby?" Steve said, dragging his fingers up your sides.

"Steve, please!" You were close to tears.

He pulled your panties down, fingers slipping in between your wet folds.

"Fuck, darling, you're making a mess." You shuddered, moans spilling out from your lips. He pulls his trousers down, dick curling into his stomach.

"You ready, sweetheart?"

You nodded in response.

"Good." He slid into you gently, your walls stretching to accommodate him. He groaned, head tossed back in pleasure.

He was bigger than you had thought - you grabbed his bicep as he brushed your g-spot.

“S’big Stevie." You whimpered, "M’all full.”

"Yeah baby? You like that?" His hands came to rest on the bulge in your stomach.

The pleasure exploded like a million fireworks in your stomach. He started moving, setting a brutal pace, pushing in and out of you. His cock brushed your g-spot with every thrust, and soon enough you were seeing stars.

"Love it, Stevie! Please don't stop!" He drilled into you, muttering sweet praises.

The coil in your stomach tightened with each thrust. “M’not gonna last.” you whimpered softly.

“S’okay baby." He praised, "Come for me, pretty girl."

You came with a silent cry, shuddering as a wave of arousal washed over you. Steve rode out your orgasm with you, before pulling out. He stood up to head to the bathroom, but you grabbed his hand and pulled him down onto the sofa. You sank to your knees in front of him, again, and licked a stripe from the base to the tip of his cock.

"You don't have to do this."

"I want to."

You placed a kiss on the tip of his cock before taking it in your mouth and sucking on it. You wrapped your right hand around the base of his cock and used the other to massage his balls. Steve drew a sharp breath in above you. You wrapped his hand around your hair, giving him permission to fuck your face. He grabbed your hair tightly and fucked up into your face, choking you with the brutal pace that he set.

"Oh, God, I'm gonna cum," Steve said, slightly relaxing his pace as he moved to pull out. You pushed your face further onto his cock.

Ropes of his cum coated the back of your throat as he came with moans of your name. Your eyes welled up as your throat filled with his seed. You swallowed it, much to Steve's surprise. He pulls you into his lap, before carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.

You settle on the sofa in his lap, kissing lightly over and over again.

You turn your head to the fire. "Shit."

"What?" Steve looked at you in concern.

"The food. S'gone cold."

He burst into laughter, resting his forehead on your shoulder. He placed a small kiss on your shoulder. You could get used to this.

fin.

buy me a coffee

[jmdbjk]

The year that was 2024:

But first...

Standing at the threshold of 2025 I look back far past 2024 to that day in June 2022 and the grief, disbelief... the shock and trauma those of us experienced while watching the Festa Dinner video. That dinner had been pre-recorded a few weeks prior and they released it on June 14. The members had to be scared of what our reactions would be when we watched it. 

At that time we still had no idea how military enlistment would unfold, that news was still months away for us after the October concert in Busan. All we knew was BTS was going to pause but we did not really know what that meant. And it wasn't just the fans who went into a tailspin, Hybe stock took a dip, the secretary of Ministry of Culture Sports and Tourism begged BTS to come back. The news of a BTS hiatus began to hit international news media across the globe. The emotional devastation was real.

That day and following days, it seemed like 2025 was forever in the future. What would we be like in 2025? What would the members of BTS be like? What would the music industry landscape be like? What would the world be like? It was two and a half years away from that day. Back in June 2022, 2025 seemed like a lifetime away in the future, a bleak, dark unknown.

We attempted to pull ourselves together and look for the positives... "we'll save so much money!” and "we'll have time to learn Korean!" HAH! The real winner: “I can catch up on content!” LMAO!

Here we are now, two and a half years later. My god the shit that's transpired since. A lot of it was not on anyone's radar.

2024, the year of fighting...

Throughout the year and as the year wore on, we fought boycotters, haters, mantis and solos. We fought the media, each other, other fandoms... it was a constant battle to clear the mess. Our main weapon? Our love for BTS and the members and our commitment and determination.

We should be better at recognizing bad actors, at recognizing organized hate. I hope you all are blocking it, muting it because it is an energy drain to dwell on it and it exists. Some people are compelled to lash back at it. I'm not one of those. I prefer blocking/muting. Do what is right for you.

So here's a recap of 2024...the first quarter of the year started out calmly.

January: We were basking in the BTS documentary series Beyond the Star and waiting for a sign of our men completing their basic training. We were hoping to find out where they would be stationed for the rest of their military service.

February was relatively quiet. Except for this.

Tae's song "Fri(end)s", released mid-March.

Hope on the Street Vol. 1 released end of March with the six episode docu-series running through April.

We were hitting our stride, understanding that they'd prepared so much for us while they were away. Even k-media reported on the unusual amount of content produced by BTS to span their enlistment time. It was reassuring and we were spoiled. Looking back, it was the quiet before the storm...

This "quiet before the storm" has never quieted before the storm like this quiet before the storm quieted the first quarter of 2024.

In April we witnessed a real eclipse in the sky and then while we were having the best time unraveling the mystery of the Monochrome merch popups, the shit hit the fan with the Min Hee Jin revelations. And that circus was just beginning. Maybe I'm just naive or too much of a positive person but I never fathomed that there were people out there this demented, this twisted, this delusional, controlling and narcissistic that they thought they could single-handedly bring down a huge company like Hybe via public opinion. And as time went on and continues to go on we learned she was not alone. That woman is sick and evil.

I recalled back in 2021 seeing people be paranoid about the young company, Hybe, hiring ex-SM employees. I wanted to believe these former SM employees they hired saw the opportunity to escape a toxic workplace and therefore defected to Hybe. Now we know the paranoia was justified.

The end of April and into May I watched Begins ≠ Youth, the drama series based on the BTS Universe. It took years for that series to finally see the light of day. It was very intriguing. There was a lot of controversy about Xclusive, the platform it was delivered on. My theory is it was an experiment to see how fans would react to a blockchain/NFT product. I have a huge post in my drafts about it but we moved on from it quickly, so I did too. The series was great though.

The rest of May was a month where we were trying to remain calm, trying to remain positive. We as a fandom felt very beat up. Anticipation was through the roof for Jin's military discharge and Festa.

But first, Namjoon released Right Place, Wrong Person, the studio album and subsequently, the accompanying documentary, Right People, Wrong Place. Both the album and documentary are critically acclaimed, winning awards and landing on "best of" lists across the globe.

Finally, it's June. Jin's discharge was so emotional for everyone. We were able to see everyone except Yoongi greet him outside the gates. But it was amazing seeing all 7 together in still photos afterward. It was a collective sigh of relief that we truly are beginning the downhill side of their military enlistment. Jin has been working his ass off since that day, his album Happy and its title song Running Wild doing well.

I know we've got our opinions about the South Korean government but that day, for me, seeing Jimin and Jungkook in their uniforms, as soldiers, just hit a spot in me that I can't describe. I felt proud of them. And I hope after their discharge they can tuck away that sense of accomplishment in a safe space and flip the bird at the bureaucrats running their country.

Jimin dropped his second album, Muse, in July, the mystery solved of what all those other producers were doing with Jimin the second half of 2022. The title song Who continues to chart. His songs are wonderful. I'm so proud of how far he's come during this solo era. I miss him.

And then Are You Sure?! happened. Even though we KNEW it was coming, I can't believe we got that show. I can't believe they did all of that. Naked Jimin except for a small pair of black shorts... naked Jungkook. Just so much naked after years of Victorian era artist protection CG over every square inch of bare skin. Watching that show, so much of what I knew in my mind of how they are together was mostly confirmed.

I said this months ago: After Jungkook’s 2023 Weverse lives, the Are You Sure?! series, their companion military enlistment and his documentary I Am Still the theatrical release and the Disney+ docu-series, it is clear that Jimin is Jungkook’s touchstone, a significant presence through at least this part of his life. We can’t know what the future holds, I would never dare to assume what their own personal desires or goals are for themselves, but I do know that Jimin will play a big part in it and I hope we still get to see some of that play out when it happens.

I'm still processing. I digressed. It happens when it comes to me, Jimin and Jungkook. Moving on.

August... my god. My dear Yoongi. We are still waiting to see him again, to see with our own eyes that he is actually ok and to figuratively take his hand in ours, to reassure each other and keep moving forward to leave this year far behind. I know he knows we are here. I can't stand the wall though, of not being able to see him. Does that make sense? I mostly keep my thoughts to myself about him because it really hurts my heart to think about him having to suffer through all that. August and into September were hard, hard… so hard.

Fast forward to October when Hobi stepped out of those doors on the day of his discharge, it seemed like time had flown by as if we just watched him leaving for training camp, even though it was sooooooo long ago.

And now he's lived in LA for almost a month, been in Japan and seen with more people... A possible fashion collab? Songs/album in February? We don't know anything for sure yet but info has leaked. A tour in spring? I'll be there if I can snag tickets.

We've seen glimpses of Tae and his buff self. His collab with Bing Crosby was ground breaking and hopefully will become a holiday classic just like the original. Also, happy birthday, Tae!

[Photo shared by Taehyung on his Instagram stories.]

December began shockingly with South Korea's President Yoon attempting to impose martial law. My heart dropped. Our guys were on red alert, scrambling. It lasted a few hours before being overturned by their national assembly.

Mid-December, while on a vacation leave, Jungkook surprised us with a 2 and a half hour live just like he used to do. He looked so good. He sounded good. From what I saw, he's still the same Jungkook.

Do you realize, if martial law had remained in effect, we would not have seen Jungkook? There would be no celebrating. We would all be in limbo. Who knows what that crazy shithead (now impeached-president Yoon) would have done if martial law was still in place. The slow reveal of information about the planning of it is chilling and should be a reminder to us all to not take things for granted. Their National Assembly are still trying to get everything under control, the turmoil is not over yet.

Somehow, the Universe is working overtime to get BTS through their service and I hope it continues to do so because we still have just under six months left. At this point, I believe anything could happen.

Counting down the hours to 2025

We are about to enter the holy Borayear of our Lord Min Yoongi 2025. Bestie and I talked a lot about what the possibilities might be for 2025.

Of course, like everyone else, we know nothing for sure, only what we've gleaned from the member's themselves, official announcements, news releases and hints here and there. What we DO know for sure is there will not be a void. We have two Tannies back with us. Music will be released, content produced:

January 4 is Jin's OST.

Not directly BTS related but we as a fandom would like some closure and satisfaction surrounding the MHJ drama because trials will begin in January.

Hobi has something coming. Certainly Hobi will have another EP, perhaps HOTS Vol. 2? which would be supported with a tour. There's been a leak of info. We are on high alert.

For the others, perhaps a few one-off singles before June. Between us, we don't think Tae has another album's worth of music. Jungkook either.

A Yoongi collab perhaps?

Namjoon, probably nothing. Poor baby is so ready to be discharged.

The Jimin x Benny Blanco music, whatever that may be.

Maybe that rumored JK x Tae subunit song. Or maybe it's not a song?

Jin mentioned another album but the timing is tight to squeeze it in before June.

Then the HYYH 10th Anniversary in April, whatever that may entail. A retrospective perhaps?

Attempting to predict how their discharge days will play out is difficult. Jin and Hobi splitting up to meet Namjoon and Tae at their respective bases? And then all four of them head to Jimin and Jungkook the next day to greet them as they exit their base? We wait with anticipation.

After the Boraholy month of June 2025, we expect group activities to ramp up. What those will be is anyone's guess. Weverse lives for sure. Also, dance practice videos. We expect new music. We also expect performances. Perhaps a one-off "we're baaAAAaack!" type concert? Or not. But performances of some sort. They've been looking forward so much to performing I can't see them waiting any longer than they have to for at least one performance somewhere, somehow.

And toward the end of 2025, a comeback album and the world tour announcement. May the odds be ever in your favor. Just kidding. I'm getting those tickets.

Our speculation continues... could new music consist of more subunits?

I could be wrong but I do not think they will revisit a Bon Voyage or In The Soop format. They might pick up Run BTS but it won’t be like it was before. I can’t even see them doing what Jin’s doing in many Run Jin episodes. Not as a group.

I think (I hope) that Yoongi picks up Suchwita again. I hope he does not change one iota of the format. He can address his incident again if he chooses, reiterate he apologized, paid his fine and now we’re moving on to live our big life. That’s it. I hope if this happens his first guest is BTS as a group. 

Maybe that last thing is really wishful thinking on my part but even considering Yoongi might ditch Suchwita or change it just doesn’t align with who he is. He is a “fuck you” type of guy. 

Anyway. 2025 has a promise of hope and happiness and relief and closure. But now, I think we all know to be wary, that anything can happen. 

Bottomline to all of this, to wrap up the year and look forward to the new year is that BTS is COMING BACK. SEVEN MEMBERS STRONG.

The reality is, it will be three years from that day back in 2022, when we finally see them as a group again. The members are slowly becoming more active. We have less than six months to wait and we know how fast that can go. 163 days left for Jimin and Jungkook, 162 for Namjoon and Tae, 173 left for Yoongi.

We must enjoy every moment we can until June 2025 and hope for the best! FIGHTING.

[chaotic-goodsir]

Realised that both 'Wilbur Cross' and 'John MacNamara' sound like they could be the names of bestselling crime fiction authors. Made these very lazily on my phone using stock photos, so apologies to anyone with an eye for graphic design, but:

Do you see the vision?

Sure hope this doesn't become an AU or anything. Ahem...

John MacNamara led a secretive US military organisation for decades, before retiring after his failure to prevent the 2019 Hatchetfield musical-plague tragedy. MacNamara abandoned his military career and became something of a recluse, working on a fictionalised memoir, Monsters and Men, in an attempt to escape his own guilt. The book's publication met with considerable success, and made MacNamara a favourite of the publishing world - now he's found himself invited to talks and parties that were very much out of his comfort zone. Most of the time he is happy to let his outgoing young agent, Xander Lee, do most of the networking and talking.

It's at one of these parties that John and Xander learn about the new smash hit bestseller taking the Crime/Thriller market by storm. Over a few too many glasses of champagne, smug rival agent Linda Monroe spills the details of her new client, whose debut novel is due to be released this Black Friday.

Critics are calling Made in America an addictive, fast-paced gem - part gritty noir, part political satire, but weirdly none of the reviews seem to say anything about the book's content - just that it's 'a must buy for any fan of crime fiction, and even those new to the genre'. Something about the rave reviews feels off to John. 'Rave' seems to be the operative word. The level of praise, the absolute certainty that 'this book will change your life!!!' quickly becomes a little uncanny. On top of that, John can't find anything about the mysterious 'Wilbur Cross' online - just more and more of the book's apparently omnipresent marketing.

When violent physical fights break out over pre-order copies on the book's release day, John is certain that something supernatural is afoot. He'd sworn never to return to his old life working for PEIP, but it seems that now his old skills and knowledge might be in demand. The fate of humanity may be at stake.

Luckily, he's not the only one who has realised something is up. PEIP were never content to let their former general disappear from their radar, after all. There's more to 'up-and-coming publishing agent Xander Lee' than meets the eye.

[chilling-seavey]

I feel like something that goes for TWIG is you and George dating and have not told anyone besides your families and someone from the grid unexpectedly comes over, like Alex or Charles, and they see feminine products around the apartment. Like your shoes, handbag, and/or maybe your bra (for some spice) and gets really curious.

(Anon, the way you concept here relates to the way I portrayed their early days relationship in the Winter Warmers blurb I wrote last night is a little scary...are we the same person?? But I love this SO MUCH (I actually wrote this as soon as it came in while actively in the office) thank you for submitting!)

Basically, yes, the overarching concept of wanting to be 100% private with the relationship to keep it out of the limelight and unwelcome social pressures of the Formula 1 world is so TWIG. George is a little nervous to have your relationship be so publicized and scrutinized because he doesn't want that to come between you...he's seen his friends' relationships crumble because of that and it terrifies him, honestly. But it feels normal without anyone knowing except yourselves and your close families...like he's a normal person in a normal relationship.

You'd come to some races that first year but with a regular paddock pass/'sponsored' by Mercedes, coming in on your own and away from him so as to not be associated together by the press, feeling like a whole secret spy and honestly it's kind of thrilling. Even most if not all of the team doesn't know: hardly even seeing you and George in the same room in Mercedes hospitality...you're never in the garage...you're honestly impressively good at flying under the radar.

Yeah, out of everyone it drives George a little crazy that he hasn't told Alex yet but he selfishly just wants to stay in this safe bubble of normal for a little longer. Even if that means virtually lying to his best friend.

You and George didn't live in the same city so for the first while of your relationship you were bouncing back and forth between each other's apartments (and halfway around the world on some race weekends...). It was not long at all really before there was a steady stock of your things at George's just to make traveling easier for you; face wash and shampoo and conditioner and some standard makeup and maybe an outfit or two. Honestly it came to a point where your things just felt so natural to him that they just blend into the background of his apartment like they were just meant to be there.

So when Alex showed up one random weekday, George almost didn't bat an eye. Almost. Until Alex was kicking off his shoes in the foyer and eyeing the second pair of sneakers by the door.

"Your feet shrink or something, George?"

The fib was out of George's mouth before he could think, "They're my sister's. She left them here."

With Alex pacified, George kept him in the living room, busying him with snacks and conversation like he wasn't silently freaking out that his lie would come out.

When Alex excused himself to the bathroom, George panic texted you from the couch. His knee bounced annoyingly with him stuck staring at your laughing emojis you replied with to his lengthy nervous ramble. Not helpful.

"Since when do you stock up on feminine hygiene products?" Alex asked the moment he emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his hands together like he was still washing them.

"I, uh...carry them in case anyone that needs them comes over. Like Lily." George stumbled out a mention of Alex's long-term girlfriend who, in reality, did come over sometimes. He then immediately deflected with a quick, "Since when do you go snooping under my sink?"

"I needed hand lotion and I know you have the good, expensive stuff that smells like a forest." Alex flexed his fingers out as he flopped back down on the couch, his skin shimmering just a bit in the sunlight through the living room window. But Alex was a little too trusting of his best friend and so he didn't feel too bothered by George's response. He was a nice enough guy, maybe he did keep stock for Lily or his sister or someone.

Third time was the charm when they had decided to watch a movie and George got up to make some popcorn. Alex got himself comfortable on the couch, rearranging the cushions and finding that sweet spot in the upholstery. But the sudden laugh that came from the living room had George stopping in the kitchen.

"George!" Alex called in that pitchy voice he got when he was far too excited and teasing him.

George appeared in the doorway to the living room to find Alex waving one of your bras around in the air. The look on his face must have been priceless because Alex nearly cackled, "You keeping a bra around for Lily when she stays over too or is this also your sister's?"

George took three quick strides over and snatched it from him, "It's not my fucking sister's."

"If you have a girlfriend, you can just tell me." Alex said, slightly calmer now but still housing that shit-eating grin on his face. "I don't know why you'd not tell me."

George sighed, feeling a little ridiculous standing there with your bra in his hand in front of his best friend who was set on getting the truth out of him. He shrugged, relenting, "We just...wanted to keep it out of the spotlight for a bit."

"I'm not the spotlight." Alex reminded him.

"Yeah, but you have a big mouth, Alex." George laughed lightly, teasingly, before fading out with a shake of his head, trying to explain, "It was nice just feeling normal. I know once the whole grid knows or the team it'll, like, start to blend...these two halves of my life...and I know how that can end up."

"You can't be scared of that, George." Alex said gently, "Not everyone crashes and burns. Lily and I are fine."

"Lily also is in a public career of her own so she knows how it goes." George replied softly, tentatively.

"This girl of yours isn't?"

George shook his head.

"Not a model? Social media? Athlete?"

George shook his head after each one.

Alex's eyebrows raised, "Don't tell me she's normal."

"Remember the girl who checked you into that hotel back in May?"

"That really narrows it down, George, thank you."

George huffed, "The one you were on me for staring at for far too long."

"Her? Oh my God, you actually got her to agree to go out with you?! But you're so boring!"

"Alex—"

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[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from the Substack Distilled:

In the last few months, the Biden administration has quietly passed multiple federal policies that will transform the United States economy and wipe out billions of tons of future greenhouse gas emissions. 

The new policies have received little attention outside of wonky climate circles. And that is a problem.

Earlier this year, I wrote that Biden has done more to mitigate climate change than any President before him. For decades, environmentalists tried and failed to convince lawmakers to pass even the most marginal climate policies. It wasn’t until Biden took office that the logjam broke and the climate policies flowed. And yet few American voters are hearing this story in an election year of huge consequence.

It’s been two and a half months since I wrote that article. In that short time, the Biden administration has passed a handful of climate policies that will collectively cut more than 10 billion tons of planet-warming pollution over the next three decades, more than the annual emissions of India, Russia, Japan, South Korea, Canada, Saudi Arabia, and the entire continent of Europe—combined.

One climate policy that flew under the radar recently was the administration's latest energy efficiency rule, unveiled at the beginning of May. The new rules will reduce the amount of energy that water heaters use by encouraging manufacturers to sell models with more efficient heat pump technology. The new regulation is expected to save more energy than any federal regulation in history. 

Most people give little thought to how the water in their homes is heated, but water heaters are the second-largest consumer of energy in the average American home and one of the largest sources of climate pollution in the country. 

A few days before the administration announced its water heater efficiency rules, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) announced another sweeping policy.

According to the new rules, existing coal power plants will need to either shut down or install carbon capture technology capable of removing 90% of their carbon pollution. The policy will also require any new natural gas power plants that provide baseload power—the ones that run throughout the day and night, as opposed to the peaker plants that only run for a small fraction of hours in the year—to install carbon capture technology. 

The new power sector rules are effectively a death blow to coal power in America, which has slowly faded over the last two decades but still emits more carbon emissions than almost every country in the world. 

The water heater rules and power plant regulations will help the country meet its goal of cutting emissions by 50% by 2030. But impactful as they will be, they weren’t the most important climate policy that the Biden administration passed in the last two months. 

That honor goes to the EPA’s tailpipe rules, which are set to transform the auto industry over the next decade.

Today the transportation sector is the largest source of climate pollution in the United States. Within the sector, passenger cars and trucks are the biggest contributors to emissions. While electric vehicle adoption has grown in recent years, America lags behind many other countries in decarbonizing its vehicle stock. 

The EPA’s new rules will force automakers to reduce the amount of pollution and carbon emissions that come from their vehicles. The federal policy doesn’t specifically mandate that automakers produce EVs or stop selling gas-powered cars but instead regulates the average carbon emissions per mile of a manufacturer's entire fleet over the next decade. That means automakers can still sell gas-guzzling, carbon-spewing trucks in 2035. They’ll just need to sell a lot more EVs or plug-in hybrids to bring their average fleet emissions down if they do.

Like the power plant rules, the EPA’s new auto regulations are designed to avoid being thrown out by a conservative and hostile Supreme Court. 

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 32/42? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN (interlude) ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY (interlude) TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR TWENTYFIVE TWENTYSIX TWENTYSEVEN TWENTYEIGHT TWENTYNINE THIRTY THIRTYONE

(And we have an estimated final chapter count!)

CHAPTER THIRTYTWO

                “Hey baby… how was work today?”

                “Busy busy, usual stuff. Lots of prep. Lots of high pressure so there was a bit of yelling,” Bradley admits, because Jake never believes him when he says he sometimes yells at people.

                “You were yelling at people? I can’t believe that…”

                Bradley laughs, because Jake hasn’t ever seen his infamous temper. Not that he really feels he has one anymore, capable of putting it when the cameras are rolling, but otherwise he’s pretty even keeled.

                “God I miss you.”

                “I’ll be back before you know it.”

…            …            …

                “Seresin’s Sauce. This why you always insist on having sauce with every meal you egotistical dick bag?”

                He ignores the insult. Gravel is, and always has been, incapable of handling Jake being better than him. The fact that there are so many aviators better than Gravel doesn’t seem to ping his radar, but Gravel is not Jake’s favorite person. However he is holding something that Jake’s recognizes.

                “Where did you get that?” Jake asks, reaching for the bottle. It’s plastic, not like the glass ones he gets with little love notes written on them from Leo. But the logo on the front is the same, and he knows Maria and the others have been doing something, and it’s involved making this sauce and blah blah blah. He really doesn’t care about the business side of the farm, just knows that they were making sauce now, and it had their name. He unscrews the lid.

                “Hey! Hands off! What the fuck do you think you’re doing! Don’t stick your finger in the bottle? Oh for fucks sake…”

                “Where did you get it?” Jake repeats, and he licks the sauce off his finger. It’s just the plain one, not one of the variations that Leo had made him try.

                “I bought it at the grocery store, like a normal human being you asshole.”

                “Huh. Like… This is my sauce though.”

                “Just because it’s got your name on it doesn’t make it yours.”

                Jake wants to argue, say that the tomatoes in it are grown on his family’s farm, that his boyfriend made the sauce but if it’s gotten to be a big enough operation that they’re somehow stocking grocery chains enough that his dickhead colleagues can just buy it then maybe they’re getting the tomatoes from somewhere else because this tastes different.

                Jesus.

                He can tell the difference.

                Leo will be so proud.

…            …            …

                Bradley reaches for his phone, sliding his thumb across to answer it when he sees Ice’s name pop up. They’re about due for a catchup.

                “Hey Ice.”

                “It’s not Ice. He’s sick again. Please don’t hang up.”

                He doesn’t hang up but he does suddenly sit down, his free hand scrambling for the nearest chair. Vi is looking at him with concern so he figures he’s probably gone pale. Again? What the fuck does Mav mean again?

                “I’m listening,” he croaks out.

                “The cancer is back…”

                Bradley closes his eyes, feels the world tilt and can’t believe that this is the first he’s hearing about it. Fucking Ice and Mav both. There’s Maverick living dangerously and dodging the grim reaper at every turn. And now here is Ice, who quit smoking years ago and yet somehow still inviting death in. He shakes his head, refuses to borrow trouble before he even knows the whole story. It might be different than it was with his mom.

                “How bad?”

                “He’s undergoing some scans right now. I needed to tell you, because… shit. I need to tell you something else as well.”

                “Okay?”

                “Your mom asked me to make sure you never flew.”

                It hits out of the blue.

                The air in his lungs punches out of him and he doesn’t know what to say at that declaration following on from finding out Ice has had cancer and didn’t tell him. He knew there was something that Ice knew, that he’d never felt like he could share with Bradley, and he has no idea what he’d been expecting but this had not been it. What is up with the two men and keeping everything locked down and secret? As the thought skitters through his brain he realizes that’s their entire lives, living under DADT, both of them career Navy. So is Jake of course, but he has five older sisters who have helped mold him into the man he is.

                Well shit.

                “Why now? Why are you telling me now? Why didn’t you tell me back then?”

                “I didn’t want you to resent her!”

                “It wouldn’t have mattered if I had resented a dead woman Mav, it was far worse to be betrayed by someone alive. Who I thought loved me.”

                “I do love you.”

                Bradley’s hands are shaking and he runs his knuckles over his forehead, not sure what he can say or do right now. He wants to go home, so have Silvia fuss over him, to have Leandro make him pasta and push a glass of wine toward him and ask him what he thinks. They’d both be urging him to calm down and he realizes with startingly clarity that if Maverick hadn’t done what he’d done, he’d have never met Silvia and Leandro.

                Oh shit.

                Would he have ever met Jake?

                Thousands of different lives flash through and he forces himself to refocus.

                “I was eighteen Mav…”

                “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I panicked and did the only thing I could think of. Ice was… well. He went after you. Made sure you were okay. Asked the Gallo’s to keep an eye on you. Refused me when I said I wanted you to come back to the States.”

                He had no idea that any of that was going on back then, not about Mav wanting things and Ice denying him, nice to know that that’s even possible. He can only imagine what Ice said, and he desperately wants to talk to him; figures he must be somewhere that he can’t take his phone, given that Mav is calling him using it. And it’s taken Ice getting sick for Mav to finally tell him.

                “You could have told me this years ago. Why didn’t you?”

                The silence at the other end is telling and he takes in several deep calming breaths, waves away Vi’s concerning look when she realized just who he was talking to.

                “I… I didn’t want to admit I was wrong.”

                And there it is. He feels like crying, so lets a few silent tears just slip down his face, which makes Vi flail angrily before she settles at his side awkwardly and wraps her arms around him and there’s another person he wouldn’t have in his life if it had been different.

                “So. I was wrong and I’ve felt that guilt for years and I’m very sorry but… Jesus Bradley. I’m so proud of you. What you’ve accomplished all on your own.”

                “I wasn’t… I wasn’t alone. I didn’t do it on my own,” Bradley says, looking to Vi but also biting back the fact that if he was alone it was because of Mav. He’s still a little angry and bitter, but he also wouldn’t change anything. He’s more than happy with his life.

                “I… I know,” Mav says, voice breaking and he’s pretty sure Mav is also crying. “I’m sorry.”

                He wonders if Ice already knew he was sick again the last time they spoke, when he said with certainty that Maverick would call him. He’s going to have words with him.

                “So. What does Ice need?”

                Then Mav is off, listing a whole range of things and Bradley realizes that Ice doesn’t talk very much anymore, his phone calls with Bradley one of the few times he solely talks. Fucking martyr. He’s definitely going to be having words with him.

                “I never blocked your number Mav. You can call me if you want. I won’t always be able to pick up, but I’ll try to.”

                “I… thank you.”

                “Hmm,” Bradley hums back, because it’s going to take a bit to completely let go of the anger. But he realizes he’s holding onto it out of habit now, rather than actually feeling angry. He doesn’t know if he’s ever going to utter I forgive you when he still really doesn’t understand why Mav did what he did. He guesses he was trying to do what his parents wanted but… well. He sort of has different parents now and they might have entered his life once he was officially an adult, but he feels like he got third time lucky.

THIRTY THREE