#the tricky thing with the one shot is figuring out where to end the gif

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (9)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: this was tricky to write I won't lie. I wanted it to be sweet but not unrealistic. Tension and angst filled but fair to our protagonists who have struggled through a lot. Oh well, you'll see. Enjoy!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

We find out what happened at the end of the reader's date with Matt. Can Ewan and his darling still mend their rift or will things be too far gone?

Matt sits next to you on your couch, as you enjoy one of his favourite films on the TV. He’s close – not too close that he’s flush against you – but enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him. His arm is casually draped on the back of the seat, and his other hand often reaches up to run through his perfectly tousled hair.

As the film plays on, you can’t help but remember the intensity of last night’s kiss. Every time he turns to you, his disarming smile draws your gaze to his lips, lingering on the memory of their softness. 

The kiss had grown heated, leading him to press your back against your door. With a soft, frustrated growl, he had fished your forgotten key from your hand, unlocking your front door himself, while keeping a firm grip on your face, as if afraid the moment would fade if he let go. 

“Come here, love,” he had half-demanded, half-pleaded once you both entered the apartment. In a swift motion, he had picked you up in his arms and threw you down on the couch – the very same couch you two are lounging on right now. His touch had been intoxicating, his lips trailing hungry kisses down your neck while his hands roamed eagerly over your chest, your hips, and eventually, your backside. His muffled moans brought a heat to your core that almost made you let go and abandon all your inhibitions. Yet, as if on autopilot, or perhaps due to the image of a certain someone lingering in your mind, you pressed a hesitant hand to his chest and asked him to wait. 

His pupils were shot black, his lips swollen red, revealing the depth of his desire. He had reluctantly complied, burying his face in your neck and releasing a frustrated laugh that rumbled through his chest. You could see it - the figure of Ewan standing in the corner, arms crossed and lips curled in disappointment. Tsk tsk, he seemed to chide, leaning against the wall, judging you.

Oh sod off, you almost grumbled aloud, covering it up by running a hand down your face. This is my moment. 

And that moment came and went. The night had drifted away as you and Matt talked for hours, the connection deepening with each passing minute. He left early in the morning with a promise to return in the evening, bearing food and wine. “I just enjoy being in your company,” he had shared, and he was true to his word. 

Now, as he reaches for your bare knee, you thank your lucky stars that you chose to wear shorts.

“Where were you just then?” he asks, his smile playful.

“Hmm?” 

“You were lost to me for a moment there,” he says, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Care to share what occupies your thoughts?”

Your phone buzzes on the side table, cutting through the tension. It’s a sudden lifeline – an excuse not to come up with some witty response that doesn’t reveal how fixated you had been on the kiss that nearly turned into something more carnal. Or how it had been the thought of Ewan that kept you from pulling him into your bedroom. 

You give Matt a look, silently telling him to hold on a moment, then you glance down at the screen which displays that all-too-familiar Ewan One-Eye, and you realise that you might need a longer while.

Matt raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to get that?” His tone is light and teasing, but something darker flashes across his gaze, something you haven’t seen in him before – it seemed like suspicion, or maybe even jealousy. 

You push it out of your mind, convinced you are just getting ahead of yourself.

You try to match the intensity of his gaze for a second before letting out a sigh. “Yeah, give me a minute.”

“A minute,” he echoes, index finger held up as if to confirm your time limit. 

With the phone pressed to your ear, you retreat into your bedroom, leaving the door open just an inch. Your hello barely stumbles from your lips before the familiar sound of Ewan’s voice greets you, rougher than usual.

“Darling,” he breathes, his voice low and raspy, “I think we need to talk.”

His tone is sombre, so unlike the usual cadence of your late-night calls, made for the usual purpose of making good on the arrangement. Those calls inevitably result in the two of you stumbling blind into the night, tangled in sheets and each other’s arms. 

“What is it?” you respond, unable to mask your nerves.

“About us,” he says, his voice slurring somewhat. Is he drunk? “We need to talk about us,” he repeats, as if he needs to convince himself just as much.

“What do you mean?” you ask quickly, getting defensive. You have a feeling that this isn’t going to end well. “What is there to talk about?”

“You know exactly what,” he snaps, unable to keep his emotions in check. “This… whatever we are.”

“Do we have to do this now?”

“Yes, now. Why not? You’re not busy, are you?”

“No… no, but – ”

“Okay then,” he presses on. “Let’s talk. I’ll start with… the fact that it didn’t sit right with me, seeing you on that date with Matt.”

“How did you see – ” The realisation dawns on you. “ – of course. Photogs.”

“Like I need their photos to know what’s happening. I know it was a date,” he spits, each word laced with frustration. 

You shut your eyes for a moment, trying not to let him get a rise out of you. “Yes, because I told you. I’m not hiding anything, Mitchell.”

“Is that supposed to make it better?” His voice rises, the bitterness sharper now. “You think honesty makes it hurt any less? You’re everywhere with him. It’s like... you don’t even care.”

The ache in his voice catches you off guard. You clench the phone, fighting back the surge of guilt threatening to overwhelm you, reminding yourself that you have nothing to feel guilty about. “What do you want me to do, Ewan? Push everyone away? Completely ignore this person who shows me genuine interest? Is that what you expect?”

“Stop,” he interrupts, his voice cracking slightly. “Just... stop.”

“You’re the one who made the rules, remember?” you snap, your own anger rising to meet his. “You were the one who said I wouldn’t be yours. That’s exactly what I’m doing. Not being yours.”

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath, “I know that.”

“Then why are you acting like this? Like I’m betraying you?”

“Because,” he says finally, his voice raw, trembling. “Because I want you to be mine. Goddamn it, I want you to be.”

The air leaves your lungs in a single, sharp exhale, your heart pounding in your chest. You stand frozen, the words echoing in your mind, too much and too little all at once.

“What?” The word barely makes it past your lips, but it’s all you can manage.

A hollow laugh escapes him, strained and bitter. “It was stupid of me to say otherwise,” he murmurs. “I never stopped wanting you, not once. Not since you first smiled at me. I’ve always been yours.”

The confession hangs between you, finally out in the open. You let out a pained breath, and grip the phone tighter, needing to anchor yourself to something.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Ewan,” you whisper.

“Say you’ll let me fix this,” he breathes. “Say you want me too.”

Your mind reels, torn between the ache for him and the reality that Matt is waiting just outside the door. But in this moment, it’s Ewan’s voice that consumes you – the yearning in his voice, the raw confession of someone who’s done with pretending not to care. 

“I – ”

“Hey, love.” Matt’s voice cuts through your thoughts like a blade, and you see him casually leaning against the doorframe. His tone is light, but the look in his eyes says he knows something is off. “I thought we said one minute.”

“Who’s that?” Ewan’s sharp question cracked through the phone.

“It’s – ”

“Why don’t you kindly tell Ewan that it’s rude to keep you from company?” Matt approaches slowly, his voice growing more pointed with every step.

“Matt?” Ewan’s voice is icy, his frustration palpable even through the phone. “Matt’s there?”

“Hey there, mate!” Matt calls out, loud enough for Ewan to hear, his tone overly cheerful, completely at odds with the atmosphere thickening in the room.

Your stomach clenches. The situation is getting out of hand. Fast. 

“Your date was yesterday,” Ewan mutters, the pieces starting to fall into place. “Did he stay the night? Is that why he’s still there? Did you – ”

“Yes,” you blurt out, the truth tumbling from your lips before you can stop it. Panic flashes through you. “I mean, yes, he stayed the night, but it’s not what you think – ”

“I don’t think you owe him an explanation, love.” Matt’s voice drops into a low whisper, leaning into you as if staking his claim. 

Ewan’s voice darkens, the sarcasm biting. “Not what I think? Really? So... what? He didn’t touch you? He didn’t – ” His words falter, but you can feel the unspoken questions twisting the knife deeper. Did he fuck you? Did he lay in your bed, his arms around you? Did he touch what was mine?

You feel the heat rise to your face, the sting of his accusations sharper than you expected. “Listen, Ewan, we just went on a date, that’s all. He came back to mine, but we didn’t – ”

“I get it,” he cuts you off., the bitterness dripping from his words. “I understand, darling. Like you said, this is what I signed up for. Who am I to stop you?”

“That’s not fair,” you whisper. “You can’t make me feel wretched for simply going – ”

“For what? For living your life?” Ewan interrupts, his tone bitter but resigned. “I told you I wouldn’t stand in your way. So go on, enjoy it. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Ewan,” you sigh, blind to Matt’s disapproving look. “Just wait.”

Ewan’s voice is soft now, almost too soft, like he’s already slipping away. “It’s alright,” he murmurs, but the hollow sound of his reassurance feels like a knife twisting deeper. “We’ll talk another time.”

The line between you feels like it’s fraying, each second stretching longer, heavier, with neither of you able to say what you really mean.

“Okay,” you whisper, though it feels like a surrender.

“Okay,” he echoes, the finality settling in the silence that follows. 

For a few excruciating seconds, neither of you hangs up. You can hear his breathing – steady but strained – and in your mind, you see his face, that familiar frustrated pout tugging at his lips, the way his jaw clenches when he’s trying to hold something back.

But Matt is standing right there, his gaze piercing through the quiet moment you’re desperately clinging to. With a trembling hand, you lower the phone, ending the call. 

“Sorry, Smithy,” you weakly smile, in considerably lower spirits than before you entered your bedroom.

Matt studies you for a moment, his face unreadable, and the weight of everything you’ve left unsaid presses down on your shoulders. “No need to apologise, love,” he says, gently slinging an arm around you and pulling you to him. “Let’s go, you’re missing the best parts of the film.”

The next day, the events from the previous night still weighed down on you. Ewan’s words echo in your mind when you go about your routine. 

When you wake up and brush your teeth – “Darling, I think we need to talk.”

When you make your cup of morning joe and help yourself to some breakfast – “... I want you to be mine.”

When you try to focus on the scripts for season three, settling into the worn comfort of your couch. – “Say you’ll let me fix this. Say you want me too.”

By late afternoon, a call with Phia offers some reprieve. You confide in her about the recent happenings with Ewan and Matt. She alludes to being in contact with Ewan, and ‘making sure his head is screwed on straight’.

“He can’t be like this,” she passionately exclaims. “He can’t act all macho and possessive when he’s been treating you like a throwaway lay in the sack. I mean, no offence, I love you but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” you laugh despite yourself, already feeling lighter.

“You do you, my darling,” she reassures, before reminding you, “But listen, he told you his truth. More or less. I think it’s your turn to tell him what you really think, don’t you?”

“You’re right, Phi,” you admit quietly. “I guess I’ll have to start from the beginning.”

An hour after the call, you find yourself laying down on your bed. Sansa, curled up on Ewan’s side, is doing little to help. She nestles on top of his pillow, her paws digging into the soft fabric as if to anchor herself to his memory. Either it’s due to the events that transpired, or your mind is playing tricks on you, but she reminds you of Ewan with each passing day. 

Ewan, with whom she quickly decided to replace you as her favourite human the moment she got a good sniff of his hoodie. 

She meows softly, as if privy to your thoughts, as if to say that she misses him too. The little squishball of a traitor. 

Then she suddenly raises her head, in that feline manner of being alert to something that eludes you. She scrambles out of the bed, her small form darting out of the room with a purpose, her persistent meows filling the apartment. You’re about to tell her to shush, when the buzzer rings. Your heart skips a beat. Someone has been let up already – someone familiar enough to bypass the usual formalities. 

You pad to the door in your worn pyjamas, exchanging a knowing glance with Sansa, who waits by the entrance like a sentinel.

“Meow,” your turncoat companion looks at you briefly, then at the door. Open the door, you silly human, is what you’re certain she would demand if she could form the words. 

“I know, I know.” She follows close behind as you unlock your door to reveal your visitor. Sansa’s favourite person in the entire world. 

When the door swings open, there he is – Ewan One-Eye. Standing tall in his black leather jacket and worn jeans, his hair returned to his natural, darker shade you prefer on him. Your breath hitches, your gaze dropping to the delicate bouquet of white roses he holds in one hand.

“Hello, darling,” he murmurs, that familiar smile tugging at his lips. “I come bearing a white flag.”

Before you can respond, Sansa lets out an elated meow, bounding toward him like he’s a long-lost friend. Ewan snorts softly. “Hey, Sansa,” he greets her, crouching slightly to give her a small scratch behind the ears. Then, with a glance up at you, he adds, “Think you can convince your mum to let daddy inside?”

You roll your eyes, unable to fight the smile that’s already tugging at your lips. One smile from him and your resolve is at risk of unravelling completely. 

“A white flag, huh?” you ask, stepping aside to let him in. But you barely have time to close the door before he leans in, catching you by surprise with a firm kiss. It’s not rushed or desperate, but there’s a weight to it – a need that hums beneath the surface.

When he pulls back, you realise he’s slipped the bouquet into your hand. You stare down at the roses, his symbolic white flag.

“These are for you,” he says, his voice soft but insistent, his eyes searching yours. “I, uhhh, I wanted to apologise for being… you know.”

“A dick,” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “I know.”

He scoffs, shaking his head with a small grin. “Well, don’t hold back, darling. But yes, I shouldn’t have gotten on your case over… him.”

“Him?” you ask playfully. “Don’t worry about it, One-Eye. I always knew you and your uncle had bad blood.”

His eyes narrow, his smirk faltering for a second, and you watch as his gaze flickers down your body, slowly taking in the sight of you in your comfortable attire. It’s a familiar look – the way his eyes sweep over every patch of exposed skin with barely veiled hunger. Normally, he would’ve made a move by now, reached out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, or run his thumb lightly across your bottom lip. But today, his gaze lingers longer than usual – right at your neck and exposed collarbones, like he’s searching for something. Or someone else's unwelcome mark.

You can practically see the gears turning in his head, the surge of jealousy he’s trying so hard to suppress. But the way his jaw tightens gives him away.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” he asks casually, breaking the silence.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh well, this is fine, I suppose.” He shrugs, eyes flashing with mischief. “You look beautiful in pyjamas… or a fucking ball gown.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” 

“I’m taking you out. We’re going on a date, my darling.”

You openly gape at him, stunned by the sudden shift of events. “I’m sorry, did I miss your memo or – ”

“It’s a surprise,” he cheekily grins. “So, you know… surprise! And all that.” 

You cross your arms, trying to suppress the warmth blooming in your chest. “So you’re fine with taking me out on dates now?”

“Mhmm.” He takes another step, and his voice drops lower, the teasing edge in it sharp enough to make your breath catch. “I realised you deserve a little more than I’ve been giving. The bloody arrangement we have isn’t enough for me. It never has been. I’ve been too stupid to see it, and maybe I’ve got competition now, but you better believe that I’m not backing down easily.” 

He leans in slightly, adding in a sarcastic tone, “Especially not to Daemon Targaryen.”

“Took you this long to come to your senses, huh.” you say, biting back a smile. “It took another man successfully sweeping me off my feet – ”

“Okay, now,” he looks away, his lips curling. “No need to rub it in.” 

You can’t help but laugh softly at his wounded pride. “So what now?” you ask. 

“Why don’t you let me sweep you off your feet this time?” he offers. “With each and every single string attached.”

He offers something real, something more. Something resembling what you once shared, and perhaps even better this time. 

“Fine. I’ll get dressed,” you relent, backing toward your bedroom.

“Can I watch?” The boy has the audacity to call after you, his signature smirk in full display. 

“Ewan Robert Mitchell,” you click your tongue in mock disapproval, eyes narrowing at him, “why don’t you buy me dinner first?”

The cab rolls to a stop in front of a familiar modernised brownstone, and you turn to look at him suspiciously. “You brought me back to your place?”

Without a word, he slides out of the cab, quickly ambling to your side and opening the door for you. “My lady.” He offers his hand and you take it with an amused look in your eyes, still awaiting an explanation.

You ask again, “Mitchell, did you just lure me back to your apartment?”

“Yes, you’ve cracked it,” he smirks. “But don’t worry, I won’t just be seducing you into my bed. As tempting as that might be.”

He leads you inside, and when you step into the elevator, you notice he presses the button for the topmost floor – not his apartment. Your brow furrows. “What are you up to, Mitchell?”

“Patience is a virtue, darling,” he quips, his hand massaging the small of your back. 

The elevator dings to signal that you’ve reached your floor. He says, “Remember our first date? Up on that roof in LA?”

“How could I forget?”

“Well, I thought we could pay tribute to that memory.” The doors open and you’re met with the sight of a breathtaking rooftop pavilion, softly lit with hanging lights strung between metal beams, casting a golden glow that dances across the polished stone floor. It feels like an amplified echo of your first date, everything sharper and more vivid.

A small table for two sits in the centre, adorned with candles and more flowers, the atmosphere far more intimate. A bottle of wine sits in the centre, already uncorked, with two delicate crystal glasses waiting beside it. 

You blink, surprised and touched. “You did all this?”

He comes up behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders, his breath warm against your ear. “Did you really think I’d just settle for my couch and Netflix?”

“Honestly? I did,” you tease, leaning back slightly into him.

He chuckles, low and deep. “Well, I have to keep you on your toes, don’t I?” Then, more seriously, he adds, “I wanted to make up for weeks of mere stolen moments, you know?”

He moves to stand in front of you, and he asks, “Do you think I could steal a kiss, darling?” he asks, still teasing, but with an undertone of vulnerability. Do you like it? Do you approve of everything? his eyes seemed to say.

Slowly, you close the gap, your lips brushing his in the softest of touches.

It’s tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but then his hand comes up to cradle the side of your face, deepening the kiss. There’s no more teasing now, just raw, unfiltered emotion in the way his lips move against yours.

“I guess I didn’t need to steal it after all,” he whispers, a hint of a smile in his voice.

“No,” you say, mirroring his expression, “that one was all yours, baby.”

After dinner, which was nothing short of extraordinary – Ewan had gone all out, employing the exclusive restaurant from the ground floor of the building to cater the night’s meal – the two of you settle into the rooftop’s plush seating area. 

The conversation shifts naturally, easing into shared memories and playful banter. You both laugh about that disastrous karaoke night during your first press tour together, and how he barely made it through his favourite ‘For Whom The Bell Tolls’ without collapsing into a fit of embarrassed and drunken giggles. Tom, of course, relentlessly made fun of him for it, stepping into his role like an actual older brother. 

You wish you could stay in these moments, ignoring all the things left unsaid. But the weight of those things hangs heavy, demanding to be addressed.

“Listen, I have to tell you something.” The words almost catch in your throat as you search for the right way to begin.

“What is it, darling?”

“When I… When I broke things off between us, I wasn’t entirely honest with you. I know I said I wanted you to take on the film, and I did, I really did. But when I mentioned that thing about Jacob, about wanting to see where things would go with him, about feeling something for him… none of that was true. I just needed to say something that would convince you. Something that would keep you away, and hopefully change your mind about taking on the film.”

His expression turns stony. “You lied to me.”

“I lied for you,” you say, trying to keep your voice firm. “I know how important acting is for you. It’s been your dream ever since you can remember, and I didn’t want you to jeopardise that dream for my sake.”

“That wasn’t your choice to make,” he snaps, his voice tight with frustration. “I gave that up for us.”

“I never asked you to!” you nearly shout, the weight of it all spilling over. “You did that for me, I know you did. And you didn’t even tell me.”

“I would do it all again. I would make that same choice again. For you.”

“You made that choice all about me, without even consulting me,” you shoot back, the hurt evident in your voice. “If something went wrong with your career, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. Knowing that I caused it.”

“You wouldn’t have,” he says, shaking his head, “But you were wrong to lie to me.”

“And you were wrong in not including me in your decision,” you retort, the back and forth bickering reminding you of playground taunting.

“So? You did the exact same thing.”

“I guess we’re both fucking hypocrites, aren’t we? Anyway, things fell into place. You’re all set for that franchise. And soon you have to play at being in love with someone else.”

“I don’t want to – ” he starts, but you cut him off. 

“You’re not quitting,” you say in finality, “Not for me.”

“Look at you now making decisions for me. How bloody generous of you,” he says venomously, all traces of softness gone from his voice. 

You stand in a huff, unable to take the arrogance he is showing you. 

The silence that follows is heavy, almost unbearable. It’s a silence filled with the unspoken frustrations and regrets of two people who thought they had control over the situation, only to find themselves in a web that is already far too tangled.

“I’m sorry,” he says, now standing close behind you.

“I’m sorry too,” you echo his sentiment weakly, casting your gaze to the night sky to find some solace and finding none. The only comfort would be in his eyes, but they might be a bit too cold for your liking at the moment. 

“I have to be in LA in a week,” he says in a flat line. “Pre-production for the film.”

“Ewan… I can’t just stand by while you have to be someone’s pretend boyfriend. We both know that these things have a way of making things messy.”

“Hmm,” he says, blankly staring out into the distance. “It's too late for me to quit anyway. Already signed on the dotted line.”

“So I guess we both know where we stand.”

“I guess we do,” he responds, his tone almost resigned.

“Matt asked me to be his date to his friend’s film screening,” you reveal, “and I think I’ll go.”

“Do you really… you and him, is that… ?” His question hangs in the air, fraught with unspoken jealousy and hope.

“I do like him,” you admit, holding back from the expanded truth, the addition of ‘but I love you’. 

“And you’re not just lying again for my sake?” he presses, eyes locking onto yours.

You glare at him. “Really?”

“Right,” he mutters, his shoulders slumping. “My bad.”

“I wish I could say I’m sorry for proposing no strings attached between us,” he starts, turning to face you, his voice tinged with regret. “Maybe I am, because I see now how it hurt you. But the truth is, I needed you – desperately. I needed you, but I couldn’t let go of my pride. I don’t regret having you, feeling you, holding you... even if it was all wrapped in that fucking mess. It was all I could manage, darling, and I’m sorry.”

You don’t even notice the stray tear that slips down your cheek, but Ewan is quick to brush it off with his thumb. His eyes also well with tears, and he smiles ruefully. 

You keep his hand pressed to your face, shutting your eyes for a moment. He leans in until his forehead meets yours, and the two of you stay there, two hearts hanging on the line.

“So you’ll go,” you say.

“I’ll be back in a few weeks,” he replies.

“We’ll be okay, Mitchell,” you say, leaning back to look at him. No matter what, in whatever capacity, you want Ewan in your life. Even if circumstances dictate that you can’t be with him. 

“Hmm.” His gaze sharpens. “And Matt? What about him?”

You hesitate, grappling with the truth that you’re not even certain of. “I can’t just push him aside. I owe it to myself to see where things go.”

He sneers, his eyes narrowing. “You think a few weeks away will change how I feel? If you want to explore things with him, fine, but don’t expect me to just back down.”

You meet his gaze with equal intensity. “And don’t think that things will just magically fall right back into place between us.”

“No.” He nods just the once. “But remember something, darling.”

“What is that, Mitchell?”

“You were my Alyna first.”

💌 next chapter

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Some notes in the margins...

When I said sweet, I hope you know that this is what I meant. Sweet.. and bitter, essentially. Like a good cocktail. A balance is needed 🍸

Well, well, well... now that everything has been laid out on the line, it's open frickin season, babies!!! Anything can happen. Woohoo 🤍

PS. this doesn't show the true outcome of THE poll (which I have already made up my mind over). That's still to be written. Watch out :)

[frustrated-writer-skyeknight]

Chapter 13: Not an outsider

Unlike their first run about with it, Gobber added an extra challenge where they would be working in groups of three and the winner would be the group that manages to capture and bound the dragon.

One team was Snotlout, Tuffnut, and Astrid. The other team was Hiccup with Fishlegs and Ruffnut.

Similar to the goal during the activity on their first day of training, if the Nadder hits them with a shot of fireball or even one of its spikes then the player was out.

"For this session, at least one of you has to secure the dragon before it harms helpless unarmed villagers, too." Gobber continued, while gesturing to Jack. "That would be you, Jack."

Jack widened his eyes, looking at the man indignantly. "Excuse me?" he huffed, "Who are you calling helpless?"

"It's just a role for the training, lad." Gobber rolled his eyes, before pushing in crates of bolas which they can grab at any time to try and secure the Nadder.

The man wanted to plainly tell them the ideal strategy; to have some from the group distract the Nadder while the other throws the bola to capture the dragon fast but it was part of the training for them to figure it out themselves. As talented and skilled as Astrid was, it was still up to her to figure out how to get a team together and follow a plan.

Unfortunately, with how it's been going for the past few sessions, teamwork was still particularly tricky for this group.

"It's game over for all of ya if the dragon hits the villager," Gobber went on, "by fireball or spike. Jack's one of the fastest and almost always avoids getting hit, so it's more likely he won't get himself easily hit and hopefully, that's enough time for one of ya to secure the dragon. I know it's difficult for you all to attempt it as a team, but try to strategize. Maybe even work together for once."

Jack rolled his eyes, "So it should be the 'not so helpless' villager then." he pointed out, "as you so clearly said that I'm pretty good in not getting myself killed."

"Just to remind ye, ya did get hit on the first day." Gobber deadpanned.

"Dummied! Not hit, I repeat!" Jack exasperated, throwing his hands in the air. "It wasn't even my fault!"

The twins snickered at Jack's display of frustration. Snotlout would join in, except the blunder involved him as well.

Gobber rolled his eyes, "Time's a-wastin', to your positions!" he hollered, as he walked towards the gates. He would be opening the enclosure manually from outside.

As soon as the Nadder was released into the arena, everybody got into their Viking mode. That is, their own brand on it in any case. Even when Gobber deliberately separated the two into different teams so they wouldn't be in-fighting, Ruffnut and Tuffnut really couldn't fight the default of being on each other's cases. It didn't really take to long for them to attract the Nadder's attention. A spike grazed Ruffnut's arm and Gobber called her out to return to the dugout, to which she protested. However, she couldn't protest for long because a blast was shot near where Tuffnut was standing and the impact knocked him off his feet and over to where his sister was standing, and they practically rolled back into the dugout together.

"Well," Jack smirked in amusement, "that was helpful and efficient... Whoops!" he yelped, ducking and barely avoiding getting hit by a spike himself. "That was close, my bad! But also, capture this thing already, will you?"

Snotlout grumbled, "Working on it!" he huffed, "How 'bout lending a hand, you twig?!"

"He's the helpless villager!" Astrid slapped him at the back of his head, "He's not supposed to be helping!"

Jack groaned, tumbling out of the way and avoiding getting hit as the Nadder was currently on pursuit with him as the target. "Not helpless, I repeat. Not helpless! Whoa!" He cried out as he ended up stumbling because of the broken shield Ruffnut left behind after she and her twin were forcibly taken out of the arena. The Nadder was still right on behind him, too. "Oh, crap..."

read the whole chapter here:

[zepskies]

LOL I absolutely DID! Readers of Didn't Mean to Stay will recognize the first line of this chapter. 😂💕

I mean, the idea of waking up, snuggled into him--talk about what dreams are made of. But the conversation was so good, too. Her wanting to fix herself up before he saw her hurt my heart a little, and I'm glad he nipped that right in the bud. And while "Eggs or pancakes?" was a fantastic answer (xD), I liked that they decided on making it stick more.

Ugh ikr?? 🤪 The ultimate dream. But he absolutely nipped that in the bud. Lol though trust him to be thinking with his stomach first. 😂

Yes more baked goods! (You know me lol.) I feel like Pop would crush some snickerdoodles.

Gah, the conflict of having all he wants in Montana except for Emily. And for the reader to voice that what she wants might also not be what's best for him or Emily--she continues to be such a solid human being. That's tough.

And Emily is a crucial part of his happiness, not just the fact that he wants to be there for her. And the reader again displays how I hope I would react in a situation like this, even though she's clearly upset by all this.

Laughed out loud at this exchange. xD Really, the whole pizza/stomach discussion was brilliant.

Lmfao I'm so glad you liked that! I felt like Beau's attitude on pineapple on pizza would differ from Jensen's. 😝

The reader saying the first thing that drew her in was Beau's eyes. Giiiiirl, you know. And him going for the smile. Love.

I even went back to chapter 1 to make sure I added these tidbits in!

She invited Carla to lunch and asked some very tough questions? Seriously, I wanna be her when I grow up. Carla growing a little colder as the interaction went on was frustrating, but also in-character, I think. And what a turn it was in the next section, where Carla threw the decision to Emily and even offered Beau some kind words. Very interesting…

There's a lot of adult maturity happening in this chapter. I tried to get Carla as much in character as possible, but still give her room to be more 3-dimensional? She was a tricky character to figure out actually, especially in that conversation with Emily afterwards.

“After everything, everything, I don’t regret coming here,” you said. Your voice shook a little, and your eyes shone with emotion. You stood from your seat and slipped your hand into his. “This is still the place where I got the courage to start over. And it’s where I met you.”

Beautiful. <3

Aw thank you, my friend! 🥹

Beau hauling her into his arms at the art studio. That was too damn romantic for its own good. xD<3

Hahaaa I was channeling Ross and Rachel in season 2, where he dons the captain outfit and whisks her up/carries her out (or tries to lol).

Sensational ending line! I am bummed to have finished this series, but I absolutely loved reading every part of it, and I'm glad there's still a little more to come…! Fantastic job, my friend. Thank you for all your hard work. <3

Thank you so much for saying that about the last line! It took me a while to figure out how I wanted to end this, and in particular the last line I changed a few times. But that's the one I felt fit the best. 🥹

I'm so glad you've enjoyed this series and stuck with me until the end!! (Even though there's at least one more one-shot lol.)

Thank you as always for supporting me, friend!! 💕

Take Me Home - Part 9

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: We’ve made it, friends. 🥹 But stay tuned, I have a special announcement after the end of this chapter.~

Word Count: 4.1K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

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Part 9: A Choice to Make

There was a man in your bed.

You were pleased to discover that, although your kidnapping of two days ago hadn’t been a dream, being held warm and secure in someone’s arms this morning wasn’t either.

After slowly blinking awake, you looked up from a familiar freckled shoulder to find Beau’s peaceful face. His hair was a floppy mess, his mouth parted in sleep. It made you smile.

His arm was heavy around your waist. It was nice, but you contemplated how you were going to get over to the bathroom and freshen up; maybe fix your hair, brush your teeth, put a little makeup on…

You were careful in how you grasped his hand. You were about to try and peel his arm off without waking him.

“If my alarm hasn’t gone off, means it ain’t morning yet,” Beau rumbled with his eyes still closed.

You stifled a laugh, but you tried again to pull his arm away. He held you to him tighter.

“Where you think you’re goin’?” he asked. His southern drawl was thicker when he was sleepy.

You giggled lightly and rested back against his bare chest in defeat.

“Was gonna try and fix myself up a little, before you saw me in the raw light of day,” you confessed.

You’d caught a glimpse of the yellowing bruise on your cheek last night in the bathroom mirror. It wasn’t a pretty sight. You weren’t really sure how Beau could see past it.

But at your words, Beau finally cracked his eyes open. He made a show of glancing up and down your body, clad in just your black silk camisole. He couldn’t see the rest of you under the blankets, but what he did see, he liked quite a lot—aside from the parts of you that were still healing.  

“You look just right to me,” he remarked, tugging at a strand of your wild, likely knotted hair. “Damn beautiful too.”

Your smile of amusement grew, along with your blush. 

“Flatterer,” you accused. Though you rolled off his arm, fearing you were cutting off his circulation. You moved onto his chest instead, where he held you by your waist and you rested your head over his steady-beating heart.

“Nope. That’s the truth, darlin’,” he said, with a deep sigh. You didn’t see the way his eyes closed in contentment. He knew he’d have to get back into work today, not to mention check on Emily and Carla. For now though, he could focus on this. On you.

“Where do we go from here?” you asked. It was a mere whisper against his skin, but he heard you just fine. It was a good question.

“Eggs or pancakes?” he posed.

You smiled, but you shoved at his shoulder.

“You know what I mean,” you said wryly.

Beau’s resulting deep breath raised you as well. He nodded, brushing your hair back away from your face. You pushed up enough to look up at him.

He gave you a quirking smile.

“I want this to stick,” he admitted. “I wanna take you on a proper date and make it official.”

You smiled back at him. “I’d like that.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “We’re in agreement.”

But you didn’t realize that anything official would take more time than either of you thought. 

Two weeks later, you returned to the precinct with another basket, this one full of snickerdoodle cookies for the whole squad. Poppernak was especially excited when you handed them over to him.

Beau must’ve heard your voice, because he came out of his office to greet you with a broad smile.

“Well, hey there,” he said. You went to him with a smile of your own, but you waited until he’d led you into his office by the small of your back.

Once he shut the door behind him, he pulled you close by the waist and greeted you with a proper kiss. You didn’t even mind the scratch of his beard against your chin. You just caressed his cheek and met him with as much as he gave.

But all too soon, the kiss dimmed to embers, your lips parting softly from his. He thumbed at your cheek.

“To what do I owe this little visit?” he asked.

“Nothing really,” you said. He sat on the edge of his desk, and you followed him, standing between his legs. His hand stayed comfortable on your hip. You toyed with the top button near his collar.

“Fall semester is starting up in a couple of weeks. I don’t have too much of the summer left,” you said. “I’m trying to be ready but…I don’t know.”

You were a bit nervous about it. After the ordeal of this past month, you’d started seeing a therapist to work through some of that trauma. Sometimes you had nightmares, found it hard to focus on things during the day. You worried that it would affect your work once your classes started up.

Beau knew what that thinly veiled worry in your eyes meant; you’d confided in him after your first therapy session a few days ago. He had been supportive, and even somewhat open to your suggestion that he see a professional himself, for the things he still held deep inside.

“The rocky summer’s almost over,” he encouraged, squeezing your hip. “You’re gonna do great, sweetheart.”

You thanked him with a smile, though your fingers became more gripping on his shirt.

“There is something else that’s kinda bothering me,” you said.

Beau grabbed your hand and held it. “What’s that?”

You leveled him with a knowing look.

“I’m just curious on what we’re doing exactly,” you said. “Considering you still haven’t asked me out ‘officially official.’”

Beau’s lips pressed together with a guilty sort of smile.

“Okay, yes, I’ve been working on that,” he said. 

You laughed incredulously. “What’s to work on? It’s a simple question. I promise you, I have a simple answer.”

“But it’s not quite that simple,” he said. That made you pause, along with the sobered look on his face. You slipped your hand out of his and crossed your arms.

“What do you mean, Beau?” you asked.

He grasped your arms gently and let out a deep breath.

“Okay. I just talked with Carla last night,” he said.

It wasn’t a great way to kick things off if he wanted to reassure you. He seemed to know that, and so he spoke quickly.

“After everything that’s happened, she’s thinking of selling the house and taking Emily back to Houston,” he said.

Your face fell with shock. You laid a hand on his chest; to steady him or yourself, you didn’t know which.

“Oh wow,” you uttered.

“Yeah,” he nodded. He dragged a hand over his mouth. You had a feeling this news had been keeping him up at night.

But, you had to voice a thought that began to make your stomach churn with unease.

“Are you…would you move back too?” you asked.

Beau met your gaze with a conflicted one of his own.

“Besides the fact that I got a lot of ghosts in Houston, there are important reasons why I should stay. Why I want to stay,” he said. He picked up your hand again and held it with both of his. “But I also want and need to be there for my daughter.”

You nodded, even as tears burned in your eyes. You knew how hard this time was for Emily right now. What she needed was stability. She needed her father.

“I don’t know what to do here,” Beau admitted.

It was hard, but you breathed through your upset and tried to reign in your tears. You met his gaze and squeezed his hand back.

“You know what I want,” you said, “but you need to do what you think is best. Both for Emily, and for yourself.”

“That’s not an easy question to answer,” he said.

You shook your head. “It might not be, but that’s where we are.”

Your eyes fell to your joined hands, until Beau propped a finger under your chin, guiding your face back up to his. He gave you a kiss that was supposed to be sweet, and comforting.

He only succeeded for the moment.

“Oh God, it’s like I don’t even know you!” you exclaimed. Though you were still laughing.

Beau raised a finger in protest. “Hey, I stand by pineapple on pizza—”

“Alone, Dad. You stand alone,” Emily said. She had a recorder app going on her phone, placed between the three of you in your living room. This marked Episode 1 of her podcast, and already it was going off the rails.

“It ain’t that bad. That’s all I’m saying,” he laughed, holding up placating hands. “Pizza is pizza.”

“Said the human garbage disposal,” you smirked. “Where do you put that one, in your second or third stomach?”

“Nah, the fourth one,” he said, patting said stomach. “It’s got the most room. Very handy at a buffet. Or at Donno’s diner when he puts out the weekly specials.”

You laughed. Beau grinned. Emily made a face of disgust.

“Okay, gross,” she said. “Moving on to the next question.”

“How many you got there anyway?” Beau asked, reaching for the piece of paper she’d printed off with all of these “Questions for Couples.” He’d caught sight of a few spicy ones on there that he’d rather not be asked by his daughter, let alone put on record.

Emily snatched the paper away before he could take it from her.

“Okay, next. What’s the first thing you noticed about each other when you met?” she read off.

You and Beau glanced at each other with curious smiles. That was something neither of you had talked about just yet.

“How about for you?” Emily directed her question at you first. You blinked wider eyes.

“Oh! Um…” you trailed. Beau crossed his arms, adopting a sly, expectant smile. You bit your lip to avoid laughing in embarrassment.

“Okay, well, as you know, we met on that camping trip. If I remember right, I saw him from behind first,” you recalled.

“Liked what you saw, huh?” he teased. You laughed and tried not to blush in embarrassment.

“I noticed how tall he was. I wondered if a mountain man was coming to join us,” you quipped. Beau’s smile kicked up a notch. “But it wasn’t until he turned around, and I saw his handsome face…for me, it was his eyes.”

You were a bit bashful to admit that, but when you looked over at Beau, said handsome face had softened a touch. His hand snuck behind you to settle at the curve of your waist, stroking a thumb along your back.

“And for you, Dad?” Emily asked.

You shot him an expectant look. Beau cleared his throat, looking between his daughter and back to you. Then his smile returned.

“Well, I noticed right off the bat that she was beautiful, of course.”

“Good answer,” Emily nodded, laughing a little. You couldn’t help blushing.

Beau slipped his hand off your waist to come up and brush your cheek instead.

“For me though, it was her smile that did me in,” he said. “She looked up at me, and I uh…yeah. That got me. Was thinking about her for a while after Cassie and I left the camp.”

With that admission, you found yourself melting further. You looked down at your folded hands in your lap, trying to save face, but Beau wouldn’t have it. He took one of your hands in his, brought it up to his lips, and pressed a kiss over your knuckles, making your face warm up further.

Emily watched you both in amusement. She smirked at the next question listed on the page.

“Okay, who pays on dates? Is it Dad every time?” she asked.

Your expression turned dry as you glanced at Beau.

“Well, I wouldn’t know, considering we haven’t been on a real date yet,” you remarked. 

Beau gave a tight smile.

“All right,” he said. “Next question, please.”

A couple of days later, you crossed paths with Carla by chance while you were getting office supplies. She was getting moving boxes. There was a stack of them in her cart.

After exchanging some painful small talk, you heeded a gut instinct that had you offering to buy her lunch. So the two of you went to a café in the same plaza, where you each had a sandwich and fries.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

Carla smiled, taking another fry. “You mean can you ask me something uncomfortable?”

You stifled an awkward laugh. She really was a good lawyer.

“Yeah, that,” you said.

“Sure,” she replied.

You stared back at her for a moment, steeling yourself. You both knew what this was about to be. It was a conversation weeks in the making, but it didn’t make it any easier to begin.

You decided to peel off the Band-Aid.

“Do you still love him?” you asked. You knew you didn’t have to specify whom. Carla sighed and set down her iced tea.

“In a way,” she replied. “I’ll always care about Beau, and I want him to be happy, I do. This has all just been…too much.”

“I understand that,” you said.  

Carla hid it well, but there was pain behind her eyes as she looked away. Your heart broke for her a bit. She’d barely been remarried a year before this hellish summer uprooted her entire life.

Now she and her daughter were living in a big empty house that was meant to be for three. Carla had just finished telling you about her plans to sell it, but that also implied that she and Emily were moving.

“Part of this is my fault, I know,” said Carla. “I’m the one who married a man like Avery—”

You gently stopped her with a hand on her wrist. You met her gaze with empathy.

“What he did, and what happened after, that wasn’t your fault,” you said. “I know what it’s like to be with a man who lies.”

It took her a moment, but Carla accepted that with a slow nod. You took your hand back, and once again, you tried to gain your courage to dive into deeper waters.

“I also understand that you have to do what you feel is right for Emily, but…”

Carla met you with a more wry tilt of her head. “Let me guess. You don’t think we should leave Montana?”

Your gaze fell. “I know it’s not really my place to say—”

“And if it was?” she countered.

Your lips pressed together. Well, if she wanted to hear your opinion, then she would have it.

“Look, Carla, I was with Emily through the worst of it,” you said. “I know very well what she’s been through. But another out-of-state move when she’d just started getting acclimated, possibly separating her from her father, is that the right call?”

“You’re assuming Beau would stay. For you?” Carla asked. Her words were pointed. Sharp enough to cut you.

“I won’t lie. I don’t want to lose him…but despite his responsibilities here as Sheriff, I suspect he might leave if you asked him to. If it was for his daughter,” you said. Letting out a breath, you looked down at your folded hands on the table. “I love Emily. I want him to do what’s right for her. But selfishly, I want him to take care of himself too.”

Carla considered that, and you, with a nod.

The two of you continued sipping your iced teas for a while in silence.

When you asked for the check, the server informed you that Carla had already paid for it.

The woman gave you a parting smile before she left. You weren’t sure if she’d done it to treat you, or just to win.

That same night, Carla invited Beau over for dinner with her and Emily. It was pizza Friday, like they used to do as a family.

It was familiar, but different now.

They all were different.

Carla asked them to join her in the living room afterwards, with Emily sitting in a lounge chair while her parents sat on the couch. Beau wasn’t sure what Carla was up to, but he was going along with it.

She took in a deep breath, folding her hands in her lap, and focused on her daughter.

“Em, I need to ask you something.”

The girl looked confused, and a little apprehensive at this point.

“O-kay…”

“I know this past month has been…hard for all of us,” said Carla. “Especially for you, sweetheart.”

She took Emily’s hand.

“You know I think it’s best that we go back to Houston,” said Carla. Emily dimmed at that, and her mother could see it. It pained Carla inside to come to a realization…

“But, I think maybe I made that decision for me, not for you,” she said. She had to blink back the sting of tears. “So, what I’m asking is, do you want to go…or do you want to stay here in Montana?”

Beau glanced over at his ex-wife in surprise. He’d never known Carla to change her mind on anything. But now, now he had hope.

He tried not to show any of that to his daughter though. This was up to her now, and he would support whatever she said next.

“R-Really? I get to choose?” Emily asked. She had the beginnings of tears in her eyes as she looked between her parents. 

Carla nodded, attempting a smile through her own tears. “Yes. I, and I’m sure your father, want to do what’s best for you here. What do you want to do?”

Emily considered the question. Yeah, she missed her friends back at school in Houston. They still texted and kept in touch through social media all the time, but she knew it wasn’t the same.

She hadn’t been happy about moving to Montana at first…but after meeting Cassie and Denise, helping them with their cases—it made Emily feel like she was doing work that mattered. That something she did really, truly mattered, and would help people. That was a cool feeling.

Also, she’d met you. She’d begun to find a kind of older sister in you. Someone who encouraged her projects and her creative side without thinking it was too weird, or too annoying. And of course, she could see what you meant to her dad now.

Besides all that though, she just had this gut feeling. Like going back to Houston would be like going backwards.

Emily’s lower lip wobbled. She tried to stop it, but her emotions bubbled over.

“I like it here,” she admitted. “I…I want to stay.”

Beau welcomed his daughter over into a warm hug between them on the couch. Carla rubbed her back and nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “Then we’ll do that.”

They stayed like that for a while. Until eventually, the teen wanted to go back to editing her podcast. She was getting a hang of the editing software, and she wanted to post it online by the end of the week.

“Okay, but I want to hear the final cut before that gets released into cyberspace,” Beau called after her when she ran off into her room.

Carla shook her head and wiped her face dry.

“I still can’t believe you let her record you,” she said with a laugh.

“You and me both,” Beau admitted. If you hadn’t cajoled him into it, he probably wouldn’t have.

And the thought of you had him smiling to himself, more warmly. He’d couldn’t wait to call you…but no, this was something he should tell you in person. He turned to Carla.

“You’re sure about this? About staying?” he asked.

She nodded with a sigh. “We’ll just downsize to a smaller house. Though I will need you to keep sharing more of the custody responsibilities with Emily, presuming you’re able to get out of that trailer of yours.”

Beau wanted to argue that there was nothing wrong with his trailer (sure, it was a bit small. They’d been managing just fine). But as to not look a gift horse-in-the-mouth, all he did was nod in agreement.

“I’ll work on that,” he said.

“Thank you. Beau, I’m grateful for you,” Carla said. Her eyes were honest. “You gave me our daughter. And I’m glad you’ve gotten better, that you’ve been able to work through some of your issues. I think your girlfriend has had something to do with that.”

A smile quirked at Beau’s lips, and he nodded.

“That she has,” he said.

After his shift the following day, Beau met you at the end of your painting lesson at the local art studio. Everyone was starting to pack up their painting supplies. He managed to come up from behind and surprise you.

He tapped you on one shoulder, but appeared on your other side, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He laughed in light of your gasp.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted.

You narrowed your eyes at him in amusement.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied. “Good timing! I just finished.”

While you gathered up your supplies, Beau admired your latest painting that was still drying on the canvas. He whistled lowly.

It was a landscape of Mount Helena. There was mist near its mountain peaks, and dense trees at its base, and wide plains of green, dotted by a couple of horses ranging free.

You swiveled toward him in your chair and looked up at him with a smile. The same one that caught his eye when he met you.

“After everything, everything, I don’t regret coming here,” you said. Your voice shook a little, and your eyes shone with emotion. You stood from your seat and slipped your hand into his. “This is still the place where I got the courage to start over. And it’s where I met you.”

Beau’s face softened.

“So no matter what you decide to do,” you said, “I won’t ever regret knowing you, Beau Arlen.”

His own smile crinkled the corners of his eyes then. He swept a gentle thumb across your cheek.

“I came to tell you that Carla and Emily are staying in Montana,” he said. “So am I.”

You sucked in a trembling breath. Your tears bubbled over and fell, but his hands were there to catch them, framing your face.

“But aside from all that,” he said, with a note of humor gleaming in his eyes. “I’d really, really, like to ask you out to dinner tonight. Call it ‘officially official.’”

You laughed and smiled so bright. You nodded and let him pull you into a warm embrace. He just surprised you by hefting you into his arms next. You yelped and clung to his shoulders.

Your art instructor, as well as a couple of lesson goers remaining in the studio, clapped and whooped and laughed at the way he started carrying you towards the exit.

“Wait, wait, go back! My stuff!” you said, gesturing at your workstation.

Beau graciously backed up so you could grab your bag of paint supplies and your canvas from the easel. It was a little awkward, but you both laughed as he tried to angle you out the door of the studio. He started walking you down the sidewalk.

“Where’re you taking me? My car’s that way,” you pointed in the opposite direction.

“I believe I asked you to dinner,” said Beau, with a teasing grin. “I don’t wanna waste no time.”

You wanted to point out that your hands were stained with paint, and you weren’t dressed for a date in your jeans and plain sweater, and this wasn’t exactly what you meant by asking you out…but maybe you didn’t need a “color-coded list” for everything.

Maybe you could let yourself be a little spontaneous for once.

“Okay, Beau,” you breathed a laugh, and rested your head on his shoulder. “Take me wherever you want.”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” he said slyly. He kissed your forehead. “I’ve got plans for you.”

When he reached the passenger side of his truck, he set you down on your feet. He unlocked it and held the door open while you set down your things. You pivoted on your heel and grabbed the front of his shirt, so you could pull him down to you for a kiss.

He tasted like the promise of good days to come.

AN: And there we have it, friends. 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed the ride on this series. I've had so much fun exploring Beau and this version of him and the reader. I hope you'll let me know what you think of the finale here. 💓

But, their story's not quite over yet.

Stay tuned this coming week for:

A Good Man Is Hard to Find

Summary: When Beau starts pulling away from you and Emily during a very difficult case, will the pressure make or break your relationship?

Sneak preview coming soon...

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[somewhere-at-sea]

A figure lies against a tree, eyes closed - this is SCHOFIELD, early-20s. Soft features. A man is sleeping next to him on the grass - BLAKE, 19, youthful, strapping.

SERGEANT SANDERS (O.S.) Blake.

Blake doesn’t stir.

SERGEANT SANDERS (O.S.) Blake!

Blake wakes. He’s in uniform, damp and crumpled - Lance Corporal chevrons adorn it.

BLAKE (sleepily) Sorry, Sarge.

SERGEANT SANDERS Pick a man, bring your kit.

BLAKE Yes, Sarge.

Blake stands, stiff limbs coming back to life. Schofield’s eyes are still shut. Blake holds out his hand to Schofield. Schofield opens his eyes - they are gentle, wise. Schofield grudgingly raises his hand for a lift. Blake heaves him to his feet - his uniform is identical to Blake’s, same rank, the only difference is the brass wound stripe on Schofield’s left sleeve. They trudge towards Sanders, fastening their webbing. A smattering of SOLDIERS - same regiment - same state of fatigue and filth, lie around them. Stealing sleep. 

[specialagentlokitty]

Derek shepherd x Daughter!reader - new family

Hey could you do more Derek shepherd x reader!daughter like where the reader is part of the bau and hotch is like her father figure and jack like a lil brother please like they go to Seattle for a case and they end up at a stand off in the hospital and like the reader gets shot but not bad like only in the shoulder and her and hotch take to gunman down but there’s witnesses like her father and some of the main cast of both? - @filthyironspider 💜

Standing next to Hotch, you looked up at him as you crouched down and peaked around the corner to where the unsub was stood.

He was in the middle of a busy ward, you couldn’t evacuate everyone from it, but those you managed to get out quietly you did.

“Does anyone have a clear shot?” You whispered.

No one did, and you chewed your lip slightly in thought.

Hotch crouched down behind you, and you turned to him.

“We need a game plan here.” He said.

You nodded in agreement and closed your eyes, running through all the possible outcomes in your head.

It’s something you were good at, thinking of all outcomes and picking the best one, so when it came to tricky situations like this, the team left it to you to decide what to do.

You thought with equal emotion and strategy based on the facts you already had.

After a few moments you opened your eyes.

“He has a list of demands.” You spoke.

“Yes, but all are ridiculous and he won’t back down from them.” Rossi said.

“Well, what if he had some thought of Leverage?” You asked.

“What’re your thinking?” Emily asked.

“I’ll go in, unarmed, only wearing my vest, and offer myself to him for the release of all the patients.”

“It’s too risky.” Hotch quickly said.

“We don’t have any other choice, we need to get them out and he’ll take the offer. He isn’t jumpy, he’s smart, he knows what he’s doing.”

You looked up at Hotch and offered him a smile, taking his hand in yours as you gave it a light squeeze.

“I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Okay, but the moment things start going south we’re getting you out.”

You nodded and agreed and handed him your gun as you stood up and slowly took a deep breath.

“Robert, my names (Y/N), I’m an agent with the FBI. I am unarmed, I’m asking your permission to come out with your word you won’t shoot!” You called.

“Under what conditions?” He called back.

“You let the patients go, and I’ll take that nurses place as a hostage!”

You could hear him pacing.

“Fine!”

You walked around the corner, opening the door to every room as you passed to tell them to quickly leave.

Opening the final door, you froze as you came face to face with your dad. The man who you hadn’t seen since you left at the age of 18.

“Evacuate this room as fast as possible.”

He nodded and you turned to Robert, slowly walking closer as you held out your hand.

“Hand me the nurse, and then I’ll take her place.”

“No funny business.” He growled.

“None, I promise.”

The nurse reached her hand out, and you pulled her back, shoving you towards your dad who had come out of the room behind the others.

You gestured to the nurses station and he nodded, quickly hiding the pair of them behind it, but he could still see what was going on.

Quickly Robert had his hand around your throat, chocking then air out of you as the barrel of his gun pressed to your back.

“Where is everything?!” He yelled.

“We’re still getting it ready, we just need more time.” Derek lied.

“I don’t want time!”

“We don’t have a choice!” Reid called out.

“Then maybe this will change your mind!”

You were shoved forward, and you had enough to one to move but you were still caught in the shoulder by a bullet.

Biting back your pain, you called to your team and jumped the man.

Punching the gun from his hand, you took a punch to the stomach, but in an instant Hotch was next to you, knocking the unsub to the floor and cuffing him.

Rossi and Derek quickly took him and dragged him away while the others came around you.

“Are you alright?” JJ asked quickly.

“Yeah, we’re in a hospital I’ll be fine.” You laughed slightly.

They couldn’t help but laugh as well, but Hotch didn’t, he quickly put his gun away, put yours back in your holster and gently inspected the wound on your shoulder.

“I’m fine. It’s just a small wound.”

“You could’ve been killed (Y/N).” He said softly.

“But I wasn’t, I’m okay! I wouldn’t let you get rid of me that easy, after all, I can’t just abandon my family.” You smiled.

Hotch smiled back and led you over to a chair and sat you down, calling for some help.

The nurses came over to help, but you could see how badly she was shaking.

Reaching out, you gently took her hands in yours and smiled softly at her.

“Go home, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I.. I thought…” she whispered.

Tears started to stream down her face.

“It’s okay, my friends Emily and JJ, they’ll take you home and make sure you’re okay. Is that okay?”

She sniffled and nodded and the two agents took her away.

Standing in front of you now was your dad.

“May I?” He asked.

You nodded and let him inspect the wound.

“It passed through, I’ll just have to clean and stitch it.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

You averted your eyes and looked at Hotch who was watching you closely, looking for any sign that he needed to step in.

“So.. the FBI…” Derek mumbled.

“Yeah. It’s a good job.”

“I wouldn’t call getting shot good.”

“It’s a given since it’s what I do Derek.”

“It’s not safe (Y/N).”

You scoffed slightly.

“And since when do you care if I’m safe? If I remember right you let me walk out at 18, you didn’t care because you were all about your job as a big shot doctor, right? You completely forgot you had a family, maybe that’s why mom cheated on you with mark.”

“Don’t go there. I was trying to give you a good life.”

“A good life?! You made me feel unloved! At least at the BAU I have a family! I have a dad who’s willing to fro anything for me!”

You waited for the last stitch, and when it was done you got up without waiting for any covering to go over the wound.

Walking over to Hotch, you stood behind him and crossed your arms.

“Hotch has treated me more like a daughter then you ever have Derek. Don’t claim to be giving me a better life when you forget I even existed.”

“(Y/N)…” Derek whispered.

“You wanna play father to your new family, then go for it. I couldn’t care less, I just hope you treat them better then you ever treated me or mom.”

“I’m proud of you.” Derek said suddenly.

You froze for a few seconds.

“I wish I believed that.”

With that, you spun around and you walked away while Hotch stared at Derek.

“Take care of her?” Derek asked quietly.

“That’s what I have been doing.”

With that, Hotch followed behind you, a small smile on his face at you calling him your dad

[alluringjae]

all yours - jjh

all yours | it’s a royal order

⤑ summary: just how long will you remain stubborn to your feelings over your bodyguard?

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

⤑ word count: 2.7k

⤑ genre: romance, fluff, mini angst, suggestive (soft dom jaehyun aww) | bodyguard!jaehyun, princess!reader, slight enemies to lovers!au, modern royal!au (where south korea remains under monarchial power)

⤑ warnings: mentions of family problems, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: recently, i rewatched the princess diaries and it just sparked me to write this! this story is a prequel to it’s a royal order (which hit 500+ notes btw like OMG THANK YOU!!) though they can be read independently! honestly though, who wouldn’t feel week for bodyguard!jaehyun?? oh btw, i’ll be uploading my masterlist tmrw!!

anyways, enjoy!!

this is semi-edited hehe

⤑ leave me some feedback or hellos!

Parties held by the kingdom weren’t new. In fact, you’ve been trained for them all your life.

Proper etiquette, learning the waltz, and staying in trend with fashion, you’d say you’re a pro at it. That was until your rebellious ways got the best of you, and so you ditched attending them to be with your peers at the club.

Not your best phase frankly.

This upcoming ball, your presence was mandatory. It was your father’s birthday, and it’s been years since he held a huge party for it. The last being with your mother months before her accident. He also figured that since you’re in the midst of fixing your public image, you must show up to this event and socialize again with everyone. Fix old feuds, too.

If he requested you to this before your rebellious phase stopped, you would’ve flat out rejected it with explanations as to how much you despise the kingdom. However, ever since he assigned Jeong Jaehyun as your bodyguard, you’d give it a shot. Once a tough pill to swallow, but Jaehyun truly aided you in getting your act together again.

Yes, he had drastic measures since he worked with your father in the past. But after more time spent with each other, you could say that you’d entrust him with your life. Unlike your past gullible bodyguards, Jaehyun didn’t fall for any of your tricks, keeping it professional at all times.

You respected his views on life the way he respected your personal space. Often, you’d drop the formalities. After all, the age gap between you two wasn’t so wide. Within the boundaries of professionalism and friendship, there was a turning point where you’ve sheltered these peeping feelings for him from his vicinity.

Although you viewed him initially as your bodyguard, you’ve fallen for him as a man over time.

Even attempting to deny it when your childhood best friend Hyejin called you out on it, you’ve eventually accepted it that, indeed, you were enamored by him. It’s tricky, and you’re aware that he may turn you down, so you kept it within yourself. You wanted him by your side for however long, by and behind the public eye.

Enough about him, you’re about to step down the stairs that will lead you to the entrance of the main ballroom with the help of your maids. The nerves from last night haven’t ended, and you’re frightened to make a fool of yourself. You were seconds away from backing out if it weren’t for Jaehyun stepping in between the bedroom door of your father and you.

“He’s done so much for you, (Y/N). Don’t do this now.”

“I’m going to be verbally attacked by everyone, and I’m scared shitless, Jaehyun.” As your hand almost turned the knob open, Jaehyun pulled it away rather harshly.

“You have so many people to prove wrong, (Y/N).” He toughly stated, his captivating brown eyes directly looking at yours. Deep down, Jaehyun believed that you’re absolutely capable of anything and he’ll do his best to bring out the best in you. “You’re not going to be a failure like they expected.”

Almost like magic, if he asked you anything with those pretty orbs, you’ll just do it. It’s things like this when you’re infatuated one-sidedly. “Will you be there to watch over me?”

He chuckled, releasing your hand. “Of course, your highness. I am your bodyguard and friend, so I’ll always be there for you.”

Jaehyun, alongside the other bodyguards of your brothers, were inside already. Secretly, you longed for his presence after your father made an additional and sudden request. It was for you to be his first partner during his birthday waltz, meaning you’re also entering the venue together.

In a white and gold tule gown custom made by the kingdom seamstress, the gold crown pinned on your hair felt as heavy as your role. With a pair of designer high heels saved for these events, you tolerated the mild discomfort for the sake of your father. Meeting him in front of the main doors, the amusement in the emphasized beauty you glowed with enlarged his heart.

You were his only daughter and the youngest child in his family. It’s a hidden given, but he has the softest spot for you as you are the remaining identical piece of his beloved wife. Even if he advised you those strict rules, he was doing what he can to protect your family.

“Shall we?” He stretched out his arm for you, which you unhesitatingly took.

“I’m ready when you are, Father.”

On cue, the giant doors in front opened and the huge audience inside turned their way to pay attention to you two. From royals, influential figures, working staff, to those personally invited by the king, none of them could take their eyes of the both of you, though mostly you. Most of them chattered quietly amongst their groups, fawning over your bloom and how much more you resembled the late queen.

The music from the small orchestra played as soon as you paraded inside with poise, sharing a pure smile with everyone. This was your tiny way of reestablishing your image of innocence and revamped empowerment, not letting anyone harm you in any way ever again.

Curtseying in front of your father, you breezily waltzed with him on the main floor. With authentic bliss that even the audience could sense, you only recalled stepping on top of his feet when you were a young girl, still learning the ropes of the kingdom. Now, you’d say you’re capable of the basics and anticipate what’s to come. Whatever ruckus your grandmother queen attempted to throw at you, you’ll fight your way through them. She never liked you from the start, and painful to accept at first, you could care less now.

By the sinister glimpse she gave from her throne, you only bowed back with a carefree smirk as your father danced with another royal figure.

You are the bright future of the kingdom, while she’s part of the problematic present of it that you’re trying to redo with your brothers and people.

From the back with the other guards, Jaehyun marveled at your formal and sophisticated appearance. Even if this wasn’t the first time he’s seen you dressed up like this, it’s the elegance and respect you freely gave to the audience. He’s always found your beauty unmatched by others, but now, he’s undeniably whipped for you. From your jokes to your kind-spirited nature, he reminded him of the youth he missed out on.

It’s not like he’s strict because he wanted to, but he had to be the strong one capable of it all. But if it weren’t for your pep talk telling him that it’s okay to be emotional and weak, he loosened up. That’s how you two dropped the formal talk in private, going as far as roasting the awful royals and sneaking out to the city with disguises.

He knew he had a mission with you, but doing those kinds of activities was in his process.

Youth simply comes and goes, never to return.

Yuta, his close friend within the security department, wasn’t sluggish to the concealed liking of his friend for you, his elbow nudging him on his side. “Go dance with her, she’s getting shy there.”

During nights like this, Jaehyun reverted to his professional stance. Surveying the surroundings, especially when you’re within the vicinity, he lets his logic and physical skills take charge. He stood his ground, nudging back at his friend. “Shut up, we’re on duty right now.”

“If you’re going to continue hiding those feelings, you’re going to lose her.”

“I don’t have a clue about what you’re talking about.”

Training his eyes more clearly, no one dared danced with you yet. It started to feel uncomfortable, rubbing your palms together. These kinds of events, everyone would absolutely do anything to dance with you. Yet, no one bothered. Perhaps, it was intentional by the grandmother queen as you noticed the sides of her mouth quirk into a menacing grin. She just thrived on making your life hell.

But no, you’re not going to let her win again. You’re not the same problematic teenager she messed around with emotionally. As if the heavens heard your plead, a recognizable figure strolled between the crowds to reach the front. With his dimpled smile, you beamed calmly. No matter what situation you’re in, he always found his way to you. You’ve been accustomed to all sorts of his attires, formal and informal, but it’s the handsome way he looked with his hair pushed back and his black suit hugging his figure just right.

Indeed, you’re quite lucky to have someone like him.

The grandmother queen fumed in her seat, but that didn’t matter.

As Jaehyun courteously bowed, you gracefully curtsied in return. Coming closer, he straightened his posture as he planted a hand on your back, while one of yours on his shoulder. Colliding your remaining hands together, he led you first by leaning forward. For someone who said he never danced in his life, he did know direction and passion.

“I thought waltzes weren’t your thing.”

“Spending time with you is, though.”

The butterflies in your stomach raged inside, affecting the normal pace of your heart. Especially with his dearest gaze on you and his fingers grazing behind you, you could only wish he felt the same way.

Yuta had a blunt way with his words, successful in urging Jaehyun to rescue you from the pressure of the grandmother queen. Knowing all too well your hatred for her, he reassured you to always save you from it. But honestly, he’s been dying for a dance with you. He chose to end his stubbornness this time.

Screw the nosy eyes of the audience, wherein some disliked your current joy. The both of you brightened the room from especially the eyes of your father and brothers, watching innocently at your dancing.

He spun you a bit, landing on his chest with a fit of giggles. Deemed improper because you could drop your crown, but whatever. It’s been so long since you’ve felt on top of the world like this.

More people decided to join the floor, fond of the lovely music. Unknown to you, Jaehyun had other plans. Now or never, he thought. As the space started to enclose around you, he sustained eye contact with you. With a trusting glint, he held onto your hands and brought you out of the busy dance floor.

The balcony was more private, vacant even since everyone inside was either dancing, socializing, or drinking endless rounds of champagne. The fountain in the backyard worked actively, with some lights wrapped around some vines of plants in the garden down there, the night sky complimented everything. You’ve had your share of late-night talks here, but the fully lit garden made everything more remarkable.

Pausing to gape the scenic area, Jaehyun stood by your side and glancing at your visage. He’s been so hard-headed about his feelings, afraid to lose what you have. But also, if he never told you, he’ll lose his mind. He’ll only pray for the best, preparing himself for the worst.

How can one look effortlessly beautiful just by examining the garden, his body leaning over the rails? Not to mention how a singular curl fell in front of his forehead, you mentally geared yourself for what you’re doing next. As the night sky twinkled the evening with the breathtaking stars, so did your infatuation for him.

“Why did you come after me?” You questioned by his side, making him turn his head at you. The loss of count you’ve had for the times he mentioned that he didn’t enjoy the ambiance of these kinds of parties. So many fake and snobbish personalities, he’d comment every time.

“I’m quite sure you needed saving from the grandmother queen, plus I overheard from Yuta that she bribed most men not to dance with you tonight.” He responded truthfully, pitying how you had to cope with the treacherous leadership of the grandmother queen at a very young age. “I only did what I must as your bodyguard, Your Highness.”

“But what if that’s not what I want you to be?” You mustered your strength as you met his stare, his eyes filled with confusion as he scrunched his brows.

“What else do you want me to be then? I am your bodyguard, as ordered by your father and I don’t want to work with anyone else besi-”

An overthinker who rambled on and on, something in you snapped and couldn’t take it anymore. He was dumbfounded as your lips sweetly captured him for a delicate kiss, cutting him off entirely. Scarily enough, you anticipated him to push you off right away if it weren’t for his hand snaking around the nape of your neck. Luring you in deeper, your eyes shuttered by instinct and your soft hands tugged on the collars of his blazer.

Your mind was in frenzy, in disbelief of such an action. Could it be?

For you to make the first move so drastically, it only ended Jaehyun’s fears. There was nowhere else he’d want to be in the party as long as you’re by his side. Having you around his arms like this, the relief washed him over like the raging sea.

Literally enough, fireworks from the garden blasted to the sky for that extra bang of your father’s birthday like the emotions intensifying the both of you. From the loudness, it shocked your ears, halting your intimate moves first. Your eyes widened, strands of your hair untightened from the hairpins, and your knuckles reddened. At least your crown remained intact, not wanting the royal stylist to blame you.

Jaehyun attentively gazed as you wiped your lips, lost of its added pink complexion from your lipstick. As his fingers dabbing on his lips, he’s thankful not to find a patch of it or else questions would arise about it from the security team. It’s definitely not the first time a guard gets scolded for unprofessional behavior with elite guests.

In terms of those rules, he crossed beyond it. But nothing could overpower this delight. Without a single word yet, the feelings he contained were returned.

Eye to eye, you two smiled with endearment as the familiar warmth on your cheeks grew. Of all the men in the past you’ve stupidly entangled yourself with, never did you bother to strike the first piece of the board. Yet Jaehyun broke the norms you’ve established, and there’s nothing you could protest about it.

Right as Jaehyun pulled you in by your waist, craving another kiss like the first, groups of people begun to exit the ballroom to watch the fireworks show. Taking his hands, the two of you skipped away before anyone caught you and headed downstairs to the private open patio. The rush of excitement livened your bodies even if you could trip on your heels at any moment.

The music from the orchestra was still audible, hearing the oohs and aahs of the audience above. But now, you’re too spellbound by the dominant romance Jaehyun presented in his succeeding kiss. Cornered against the wall, you’ve let down your crown and let him have his way with you. An animalistic moan was released from your precious lips as he raked his hands through your sides and back, while yours removed his black blazer down to the cemented floor.

“No way this is happening.” You gasped through kisses, undoing a few buttons of his formal white top.

“It is, (Y/N).” Jaehyun peppered your neck with supple pecks, giving you all the admiration you wholeheartedly deserved. “It’s only you that I’ve ever wanted to be with.”

You sighed with gratitude, your index finger leveling his chin to come face to face with you again. Even when you’ve been doing so much naughty things, he still managed to look effortlessly like a god. This moment was beyond all you’ve wished for, and if the kingdom wasn’t going to have it, you’ll do what it takes to fight for it.

“I’m all yours, Jaehyun.”

[heavenbarnes]

nothing to lose

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (18+)

Warnings/Contains: swearing, semi!sub bucky, alcohol mention, stripping (male), oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex (please use a condom), spanking, dirty talk

Word Count: 3.5k

I’m trying to get back into writing, believe you me, so please appreciate these lil breadcrumbs I’ll try to keep dropping! In the meantime, I love you all x

Bucky had a way about him when he wanted something from you. He had a turn up in comfy clothes, wine bottle in hand way about him. It was a way that you saw right through, but a way nonetheless. The tricky part was deciphering what he wanted.

Now Bucky wanted a lot of things, he wanted a holiday somewhere warm, he wanted to see Phoebe Cates in Fast Times for the first time again, and he wanted...

How do you put it? He wanted...

You opened the front door to him, in his sweatpants and half-up hair glory, a buttery Chardonnay in his right hand. You immediately shot him a look that either asked “what have you done?” or “what do you need?” Objecting that it was just a friendly house call, he came inside and that’s where you ended up.

Curling in the corner of your couch, knees bent in front of you as your cheeks kept a steady warmth fed by the wine. Bucky sat in front of you, legs spread and taking up room, hands gesturing as he continued his story about a time you’d never understand.

“Wait, you just let this slide?” You questioned, shooting him a puzzled glance.

“You have to remember this is the forties,” He jumped up a bit. “Anyways so!”

Forgetting this meant he had an ulterior motive, you melted into the cushions and into his voice as he kept you giggling as the hours passed. It wasn’t until he spouted stupid ideas like truth or dare that you bit back at him, bringing it round to the beginning.

“Fine, fine, pick truth!” He was in the midst of reminding you that wasn’t how the game went but you managed to have him concede with a grumble of “okay, I pick truth.”

“Why did you come here tonight with the ingredients to butter me up?”

His mouth dropped in surprise, a faux surprise that reminded you Bucky had never really been good at lying. Through stutters he got out his words, “I’ve no idea what you mean!”

“Wine, lush stories from before my time, looking lovely and cuddly?”

“You think I look lovely-“

“Bucky!”

He sighed, leaning forward and taking your glass (much to your protest) and placing it with his on the coffee table. He turned back to you, hands bracing your knees at the bend and looking into your eyes. Whatever he wanted, he wanted it bad, and he was going to make your life hell till he got it.

“Now, you’ve got to promise not to shoot this out of the sky like always!”

And there it was, what you knew in the back of your mind he was here to ask for. The same thing he always asked for when it got late and he got needy and wine dropped your reserves. The cheek of him, huh?

“James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes,” The government name flew off your lips as you stared back at him. “Tell me you did not come all this way to ask for some pussy.”

He wasn’t sure which winded him quicker, the full name and the way it sounded coming off your lips in such a clipped tone, or the fact you said pussy and he needed to hear you say it about a hundred more times. He quickly cleared his mind, getting back to the subject at hand, the one he was determined on.

“Don’t make me sound like a bitch, honey,” he grumbled. “You make me sound like I can’t get any!”

“You can get any, you could walk out onto my street and find any number of people that’d be willing to give it up to you!”

His eyelids dropped, scooting further towards you and gripping your knees harder. It was his turn to call you by your full name, sounding unfairly delicious coming from him. “You know I don’t want just anyone.”

“You know that this,” you flicked your hand back and forth between you two. “This would be detrimental, we work together, we see each other every day.”

“And that is the killer! I see you walking around and kicking ass and looking like everything I ever dreamed of, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

You couldn’t help the way your lip rose in a smirk. You knew that Bucky had felt this way about you ever since you helped Sam and Steve track him down. He saw you catch a bullet midair and throw it back, he knew from then he was fucked.

“By the way,” he tacked on the end. “I didn’t come all this way to beg for pussy, I actually enjoy your company and I knew you’d enjoy mine.”

Raising your brows in a “oh, is that right?”, you nodded slowly as your hands came to rest on top of his. “Now, I never said beg, but if that’s what you want to do then maybe we’re talking.”

Bucky’s eyes had fallen out of the early onset of embarrassment, but your words had perked them right up again. He dropped a brow and raised one, urging you to go on. The corners of your lips picked up as everything ticked over in your brain.

Let’s check all the cards on the table, Bucky was unexplainably beautiful, not just in his god-like features but he was right when he said you enjoyed his company. Every time you caught his eyes holding your figure too long, it ignited that little flame burning in you. Lying and hypocrisy weren’t a good look, so there was no use denying that he wasn’t on your mind on lonely nights with only your fingers for company.

“If you want it as bad as you say you do, are you going to work for it?”

Bucky turned closer towards you as you spoke, almost as if he’s unsure of what he was hearing. Your expression gave him a hurry up, until he was clearing his throat. “Of course, yeah of course.”

You brought one of your feet back, pressing the ball of it against Bucky’s thigh and pushing him gently. He quickly got the message and shifted down a bit. Extending your leg, you were able to lay your foot against the crotch of his pants. His eyes moved from his lap before shooting back to you.

“You’ll do whatever I say? You’ll be good and give me what I want?” Pressing your foot down gently, you began to rub it against him as you spoke.

Bucky’s breath caught right in his throat, right hand coming to gently grasp your ankle as you worked against him. “That’s always been it, whatever you want from me, you can have.”

And he had to have been telling the truth, the way you could feel him hardening under the ball of your foot was no lie. Bucky’s head fell back to rest against the top of the couch, eyes closing gently and mouth slightly parting as his fingers drifted up to massage your leg.

His hips stuttered ever so slightly, only the smallest bit and you could’ve missed it if you weren’t so invested with how delicious he looked just then. He was getting harder by the second, pants tightening as you saw the outline of him showing prominently in font of you.

Of course he had a huge dick, of course.

“You want pussy?” You hummed, sliding your foot back and tucking your legs to the side. “You want to eat mine?”

His eyes lit up like he’d been given the world, tongue dipping out against his lower lip and nodding slowly. You turned to place your feet on the floor, beckoning him up and in front of you with one finger. Your mouth curled into an obviously devious smile.

“Strip.”

Bucky was never and will never be a stupid man, he was not impartial to light embarrassment to get what he wants (in fact, it sometimes made him hard). To be honest, you could’ve told Bucky to get starkers on the balcony with the city watching and he would’ve done it, provided he got you in the end.

So there was no qualms and he was pushing off of your knee and stepping into the space between your thighs. Pulling the band from his hair, the strands fell into his face before he brushed them back with a wide span of his hand.

His shirt was the next to go, landing behind him and taught muscles on display. Only natural that your lower lip got tugged between your teeth, until Bucky lent forward and took it between his fingers. He kept leaning in, running his thumb down your lower lip until you were pouting for him.

He was moments away from you, to the point where you each could feel the breath of the other ghosting across your skin. He bridged the infinitesimal gap between you both and lay his lips on yours, tongue immediately finding its way past your teeth.

Of course he was a great kisser, of course.

You fought your inner monologue just enough to place your palms flat on Bucky’s chest and push him back to standing height. “I wanna’ see the rest.”

And he could never deny that girlish smile, whether you were asking him to bring you a drink or rub your back or fetch something off the top shelf. So the way his fingers undid the tie of his sweats, poking into the waistband to draw them down his hearty thighs, told nothing different.

Your teeth gritted together, corners of your mouth dying to quirk up and give yourself away. He just looked so good. Those black briefs were straining, the outline was right there, you almost had it but you held it back.

You wanted to see Bucky on his best behavior.

Rolling the band of his boxers down, your breath caught in your chest. It was a slow descent into insanity as he drew it out and drew it out. You knew it had nothing to do with nerves, everything to do with making you suffer the same way he had. 

But soon, they too hit the floor. This time you were pouting without his help.

This man was from another planet, he had to be. He was cut from a cloth that was woven at the hands of God’s and never to be replicated. All that and he was standing in your living room ready to do whatever you asked.

“Good boy.”

You tried your luck and to your reward, Bucky’s eyes lit up like Roman candles (think church, not fireworks), knees buckling slightly in the twinge of excitement that coursed around him and kissed his skin.

He took his own lead, stepping towards you and tucking his fingers around your bottoms to draw them off. You let him, no use arguing when he was doing exactly what you wanted without even having to say it. You even want as far as lifting your hips for him so he could toss your clothes to land with his.

Bucky’s knees hit the floor in front of you, shuffling in and hooking his arms under your thighs, resting them over his shoulders. His eyes were firmly fixed on where you were softest, wettest, where his mind would always wander on cold nights.

He gently flickered his gaze to you, a look that asked permission.

“Go ‘head.”

And his lips were deathly soft against your thighs, and he could say the same about your skin. He could smell you, so close and so mouthwatering that he was conjuring all his untapped strength to not go wild right at the moment.

Bucky had to remind himself he was a good boy.

Lips coasting their way closer he very gently pressed a kiss to your clit, tongue dipping to roll against it as he sucked in the same motion. Immediately a shiver ran the length of your body, thighs tensing against his shoulders.

Buck’s fingers grasped the muscle of your thighs, massaging to loosen them as his mouth continued to work against you. Your hips rolled against his face, back raising off the couch the mouth his lips suckled your sensitive skin.

The back of your brain was yelling at you, asking why you’d taken this long to let him feel this good kneeling at your feet. Part of it was the fun, the thrill of the chase? Watch him squirm a little bit.

Stubble grazed against you with every minuscule motion he made, the tender burn only heightening your sense. You felt your body chase him, still raising off the couch to follow wherever he went.

You watched the movement of his right arm, slow and steady as your eyes followed it down to the wrist. Fingers grasping his length as he only slightly twisted his grasp around it, hips gently cantering into his own touch.

“God damn, Bucky.” You cooed, hand threaded through his hair and tugging slightly.

He only hummed, a rumble that fed straight into you and the way your legs were closing around his head. His tongue still flittered across you, forcing your eyes shut and incoherent cries to fly off your tongue.

And when your orgasm finally hit you, you were trying your hardest to pull back, but that grip he had on you was locked steady. His mouth was pressed to you, determined to work you through the tide of pressure that was breaking over you.

Your eyes rolling back, heels digging into his shoulder blades, his name becoming the only cry you could remember. He pulled back, chin glistening and hand still steadily tugging at himself, smile reflecting your own hazy expression.

“I was thinking,” You started, leaning forward to tuck some hair behind his ear. “I haven’t heard a lot of begging from you.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, head leaning into your touch just slightly as the hand pleasuring himself stopped altogether. He stayed quiet, the realisation dawning on him that he’d managed a pretty sweet run.

Pulling your hand back, you stood from your spot on the couch and headed for your bedroom. You could hear Bucky shuffling behind you, clambering to his feet and following.

“Wait, wait-“

“You’ve just taken whatever you wanted.”

“But you said to go ahead-“

“Not the point, Barnes, I wanted to hear you beg.”

As you pulled your top over your head and tossed it behind you, he followed it like breadcrumbs until he snuck into your room behind you. Barely acknowledging his presence, you situated yourself against the pillows, cocking your head in his direction.

“Baby, you could just be kind and I could wreck that pretty lil’ pussy.”

Raising an eyebrow, your head recoiled as if questioning his seriousness right now. He realized that wouldn’t slide before he got onto the end of the bed, sitting back on his knees.

Palms pressed flat against his thighs, cock still hard as ever, he drew in a deep breath.

“Can I please fuck you?”

Sighing, you drew yours knees up and kept your legs pressed together, seemingly lying in wait.

“You look so fucking good, taste like heaven, like everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Drawing your finger tips against your chest gently, you listened to what more he could conjure up. His eyes narrowed, the situation ticking over in his head. Raising up he moved up the bed until his hands were on your knees, grasping them before pulling them to the side enough for him to slot between.

“Every night, all I can think about is how I need to bury myself in this hot little cunt, bury you into the mattress as you’re crying my name. Every time I see this tight ass bounce past me I just thinking about splitting it open until you’re seeing stars,”

He lent further into you, nearly nose to nose until it was your turn to go bug eyed.

“You’re fucking mean, you’re nasty and you love to torture me cause you know there isn’t a damn thing I wouldn’t do to have you in my lap with your legs wrapped around me. Almost sad part is, I fucking love it, I love being teased by you and I love chasing your damn tail because I know there isn’t anyone else that’d let me do the fucking things I want to do to you.”

His hands left your knees as they came to cup your jaw, drawing you in until his lips nearly touched yours.

“So, for the love of all that is holy, let me flip you over and split you in two.”

Surging forward you locked your lips onto his and drove your tongue into his mouth, making as much purchase as you could. It was filthy, messy and spit slicked and teeth nearly clashing but it was you getting what you want.

“It’s about fucking time you grew a pair.”

“Oh, fuck you-“

Forgoing the tail end of his remark, he wrapped his arms beneath you and pulled you forward and against his chest. Mouths back and messily working together, you fought your way out of his grasp until you were straddling him.

“But you do look so good under me.”

His hand shot up to crack against your ass, sending you forward where he quickly wrestled you into swapping places. Getting you on your front and pulling your hips back until you were arched, his much smoother movements of heavy petting your backside were welcomed.

Keening into him, shaking your ass just a little to get what you want, he grasped both cheeks and spread them. You must’ve looked a sight, still wet from his mouth and just about everything else you two had done, you felt a metal finger running along the length of you.

But part of him didn’t want to wait a second longer as you felt the bed dip with him raising back up to lay his length down the split of your cheeks. Coating it nicely with your slick, you could feel it prodding against you.

As he slid himself in, his chest came to lean against your back, nestling himself within you and getting used to the snug fit.

“Fuckin’ tight, fuckin’ perfect, all mine.”

He listened for your shaky exhale before he drew back, hips lined up and slamming back into you as your arms gave out. Cheek pressed into the blankets and arms out ahead of you gripping onto whatever you could find purchase in.

Bucky found his rhythm, rolling his hips eagerly into you, sounds of skin blending with the pathetic moans he was wickedly good at forcing from you. His grip on you and the way he was living up to his word of fucking you into the mattress, your mouth was dropped open.

It was like he’d fucked all sense out of you, until incoherent little moans about “how good he felt” and “how big he was” were the only things that were swilling about in your brain. You felt remarkably proud of how long you’d kept together the facade of being in control.

“That feel good, baby? Glad you finally let me fuck you like you deserve?”

More senses of agreement tumbled out of you as you gripped the bed and gripped around him, rolling your hips back onto him to try and match his movements. One of his hands splayed between your shoulder blades while the other lay against your ass.

“So fucking mean, but I fucking love it.”

His hand came back and struck down against your ass with a delicious sting, a cry of his name sounding out of you. He massaged over the area, before slipping his hand down to rub against your clit.

“I always knew you wanted to give in,” His chest huffed as he kept powering into you. “But I liked the little game, naughty girl.”

This time has hand drew back and delivered a slap against your clit, your legs shaking against him he pushed you straight towards your end. You felt your lower half clamp right around him, your body tensing up.

“That’s a good girl, fucking come for me.”

Bucky was a good boy, but you were even better.

Doing as told, you felt your whole body come apart as you slumped forward, shaking slightly as Bucky never let up with his thrusts or his fingers. You felt the wetness against your thighs, knowing he’d well and truly fucked it out of you.

His grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you back into him and rolled his hips against you. Impossibly deep and nearly bulging out your belly, Bucky stayed deep inside you as his hips stuttered.

He held you still as he came, raw moans flooded your ears like a choir as you felt a dumbstruck smile make its way across your face. Feeling the weight of him sink onto you as you both collapsed into the bed.

Resting against his chest, tucked into your pillows, you felt him tracing patterns into your back. You tilted your head up, looking towards him with a smile.

“Hey, Bucky?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for coming all this way to beg for pussy.”

“Don’t fucking ruin the moment, beloved.”

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 141

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,200ish

Summary: Things start to get real. (gifs aren’t mine) PLEASE READ THE NOTE AT THE END.

“Now, you better be on your best behavior for your Aunt Pepper and Uncle Happy, alright?” Y/N said. She was kneeling down to Morgan’s level, brushing the little girl’s hair behind her ears.

“Alright, momma,” Morgan agreed with a nod. 

“Daddy and I will call you every day.”

“Can’t I just come visit you? The—the com… compod… com—“

“Compound,” Y/N gently fixed with a smile.

“Yeah! It’s not too far away. I can come and help a wittle!”

Y/N sighed. “I wish you could, honey, but this is grown up stuff. Someday you’ll understand.” She pulled the girl into her arms, holding a kiss to the side of her head. “I love you, Morgan, so much.”

“Don’t tell daddy,” Morgan giggled, trying to whisper, “but I love you more than 3000.”

“Hey!” Tony exclaimed with mock hurt, coming onto the porch after packing the car. “I heard that.” He came and joined in on the hug. “But I forgive you.” He kissed the top of Morgan’s head before him and Y/N pulled back. “Don’t give Happy too much grieve, okay?”

“Okay, daddy!”

Tony leaned closer to Y/N. “If we’re going to do this, we’ve got to get going,” he whispered, placing a slight kiss near her ear.

“Okay,” Y/N whispered in reply. She leaned in and gave Morgan one last kiss on the forehead. “We’ll call you later tonight. I love you.”

“I love you too, momma and daddy,” Morgan responded.

Y/N and Tony stood up. She had an arm around his waist, holding herself close to him. Pepper and Happy came up behind Morgan.

“We’ll take good care of her,” Pepper promised.

“Thank you guys,” Y/N said before Tony led her to the car.

He opened the passenger door for her then got into the driver’s seat. Y/N waved and blew kisses to Morgan as they drove off. When they were too far away, she sighed into the seat. Tony reached one hand over and gave her knee a slight squeeze. They didn’t talk though, they were both too overwhelmed with what they were both headed to do.

~~~

Steve was standing outside, staring at the ground. His hands were on his hips as he looked beat. Bruce, Scott, Natasha, and himself had just tried to send Scott back in time, to no success. All they did was age and de-age Scott. Steve needed to get out of the hanger and clear his head. It had gotten his hopes up to bring everyone back, but it was looking like their plan wouldn’t be a possibility.

As a noise broke the silence, Steve looked up to see a car speeding towards the entrance. The car pulled over to him, passing him slightly, before reversing. As it backed up to stop in front of Steve, Tony rolled down his window to reveal himself and Y/N.

“Why the long face?” Tony asked. “Let me guess: he turned into a baby.”

Steve looked away with a slight smile on his face and a nod. “Among other things, yeah,” he responded looking back at the couple. “What are you two doing here?”

Tony got out of the car, Y/N following, and walked around to the back. “That's the EPR Paradox. Instead of pushing Lang through time, you might've wound up pushing time through Lang. It's tricky. Dangerous. Somebody should've cautioned you against it.” He leaned against the car as Y/N moved to stand beside him.

“You did.”

“Oh, did I?”

“Tony,” Y/N scolded quietly, knowing Steve did deserve the sass.

“Thank goodness we’re here. Regardless, I fixed it.” He held up his right hand, device on it. “A fully functioning Time-Space GPS. I just want peace.” He made a peace sign. “Turns out, resentment is corrosive, and I hate it.”

“Me too.”

“We got a shot at getting these Stones, but I gotta tell you our priorities: Bring back what we lost? I hope, yes. Keep what we got? I have to, at all costs. And... maybe not die trying will be nice.”

“Sounds like a deal.” 

Steve reached out his hand to shake, in which Tony took it. Pulling away, Tony opened his truck. He reached in to pull out Captain America’s shield. He handed it toward Steve, who didn’t take it.

“Tony… I don’t know,” Steve said.

“Why?” Y/N asked. “Howard made it for you.” 

“Plus, honestly we had to get it out of the garage before Morgan took it sledding,” Tony added. “She’s been way too eager to take it out since she found out it belongs to you.”

With a light sigh, Steve took the shield, placing his arm in the straps. It had been too long since it had rested on his arms, seven years in fact. It felt nice to have it back.

“Thank you,” Steve replied.

“Will you keep that a little quiet?” Tony asked as he pulled out a few more things from the car. “Didn’t bring one for the whole team… we are getting the whole team, yeah?”

“We’re working on that right now. You guys might be able to be of some help.” Steve began leading them back into the hanger. “Who’s with Morgan?”

“Pepper and Happy,” Y/N responded. It was clear to the men that Y/N was feeling hesitate to do this and leave Morgan. “You’re going to have to join in on the call tonight. She’s upset she didn’t get to talk to you that much when you guys showed up a few days ago.”

“Y/N? Tony?” She heard Natasha gasp. Her friend quickly ran to her, engulfing her in a hug. “You came to help. Thank you so much.”

“Woah there, Banner,” Tony said, causing everyone to notice him studying Bruce, who had merged with the Hulk. “What did you do?”

“I know, it’s different,” Bruce responded. “But I finally found a way to live with both my sides.”

“That’s wonderful,” Y/N smiled. “I’m so happy for you, Bruce.”

“Thank you.”

“What’s the plan with the team though?”

“I’ve called Rocket and Nebula,” Nat explained. “They’re on their way. Once they get here, Bruce with go with Rocket to fetch Thor from New Asgard. Rhodey needs to finish up a few things before he comes. They should all be here tomorrow.”

“What about Clint? Is he still off the grid?”

“I’ve pinned pointed his location and am going after him tonight.”

“Do you need any help?”

“I think this is something I need to do on my own.”

~~~

Night had fallen and Tony had already started building a platform for the time travel. Natasha had left to retrieve Clint and Y/N was just finishing up her video call with Morgan.

“It’s time to go sleepy night-night, now Mo,” she told her daughter. “I love you, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight.” She blew a kiss.

Morgan blew one back. “Love you, momma!”

Y/N smiled softly as she hung up. Turning the phone in her hands, she looked around the bedroom she was sitting in. This old bedroom was filled was so many memories, good and bad. Y/N honestly never thought she’d ever come back here, again. With a small sigh, she pushed herself up from the bed and walked out onto the small balcony that was attached to the room. She leaned on the railing by her forearms and looked over the once bustling grounds of the compound.

“I thought I’d find you out here,” Tony said, snaking his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her neck. She jumped slightly. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

“A little. I guess I was too caught up in my thoughts,” Y/N responded.

Tony rested his chin on her shoulder. “Care to share?”

“This place used to be so lively… even after the team broke. There were people running around and working hard. Now… now It’s empty. Too empty… I don’t want this to be the world Morgan grows up in. I want to her see busy streets and cheer in crowded arenas. I want her to experience what life should be like. Not this… this mess.”

“I get it… I want her to meet Peter. I can already imagine the chaos those two could cause.” 

Y/N laughed. “Me too… And Harley.”

“And Harley… we have to get our boys back.”

“We have to. And not die trying.”

~~~

The next day, Tony and Y/N spent building the platform, while everyone else came and went, going about their assignments. Natasha left to get Clint, having got some concrete leads about him being in Japan. Rocket, Nebula, and Rhodey arrived. Rocket and Bruce quickly left for New Asgard to fetch Thor. Nebula, Rhodey, and Scott began thinking of suit ideas for the time traveling. Steve gathered together everything he could find on the Infinity Stones, the whole time itching to ask Y/N questions. He wondered if she knew more than they had learned from past experiences. And it wouldn’t surprise him if she did.

Rocket and Bruce arrived back with Thor first. It shocked the team to see Thor in such a state as he was. His hair and beard were long once again, and he had gained more than a few pounds. It saddened Y/N to know that this had all taken such a toll on Thor. Her and Tony really had been one of the few lucky ones. 

Rocket quickly began helping Y/N and Tony with the platform. Which Y/N was extremely grateful for because she could only understand, or do, very little of what Tony was asking of her. 

Thor was drinking a beer as he clumsily walked towards the platform. Tony was walking from behind Thor, dragging a long hose.

“Drifting left,” Tony warned Thor as he began to pass him. “On the side there, Lebowski.” He faced Rocket, who was working underneath the platform. “Ratchet, how’s it going?”

“It’s Rocket,” the raccoon corrected. “Take it easy. You’re only a genius on Earth, pal.”

“Thank you!” Y/N exclaimed jokingly, pointing at Rocket.

“Hey!” Tony exclaimed, a little hurt.

“I love you!”

Tony scoffed. “Sure.”

Y/N giggled as she came up to Tony. “I’m sorry,” she pouted slightly as she grasped his hand. “Forgive me?”

Tony sighed, rolling his eyes playfully. “I guess.” He gave her a light kiss. “Want to go check out how the suit is coming?”

“Of course.”

They intertwined their fingers and headed to where they were figuring out the suit. When they arrived in the room, Scott was in the suit with Nebula and Bruce working on it around him.

“How’s it coming with the thingamajigger?” Tony asked as him and Y/N walked over to the Scott. “What’s our status?”

“Now?” Bruce wondered. “Yeah, it’s just about ready.”

“Alright, let me see. Wow. Got a little Pym,” Tony pointed, “Stark styling.”

“Yeah.”

“And the, uh, noggin bubble, courtesy of, uh,” Tony turned to Nebula, “Rings of Uranus. What’s your troop called?”

“The Guardians of the Galaxy,” Nebula answered.

“We just need someone to test it,” Bruce said, as he grabbed some small glass tubes with a red liquid and started doing something to Scott’s suit.

“Time travel suit?” Rhodey questioned, walking in. “Not bad.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Scott exclaimed, stopping Bruce. “Easy, easy!”

“I’m being very careful,” Bruce responded.

“No, you’re being very Hulky.”

“I’m being careful.”

Scott held up a red tube. “These are Pym Particles, alright? And ever since Hank Pym got snapped out of existence, this is it. This is what we have. We're not making any more.”

“Scott, calm down,” Rhodey advised.

“Sorry. We've got enough for one round trip each. That's it. No do-overs. Plus two test runs.” Accidentally pressing a button, Scott quickly shrunk and returned to his normal size. “One test run.”

“Shit, Scott,” Y/N muttered, shaking her head.

“Alright, sorry. I’m not ready for this.”

“I’m game,” Clint’s voice suddenly came from behind them. They all turned to look at him. “I’ll do it.”

He looked different. It wasn’t just his hair cut and his sleeve tattoo. It was his eyes. Clint had lost his wife and three kids. Y/N couldn’t even imagine what he was exactly going through.

“Clint,” Y/N gasped softly.

“Y/N,” Clint responded with a nod.

Tearing up, Y/N let go of Tony’s hand and quickly wrapped her arms around Clint’s neck, bringing him in for a hug. Clint didn’t hesitate to hug her back.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

“I’ve missed you too, Y/N/N,” he responded. He pulled away and looked back at the others. “Suit me up. Let’s do this.”

~~~

Tony and Y/N got the platform set up and gathered everyone while Bruce, Rhodey, Scott, and Nebula got Clint situated. As everyone slowly gathered and Bruce came to help Tony, Y/N stayed back and close to the wall. She had started to tremble at the thought of the time travel actually working and all that came a long with it. Her head had also started to get fuzzy. And, from past experience over the years, she knew that a seizure could easily be triggered. Steve had noticed at discretely came over to her.

“You alright?” He whispered.

“I-I-I… I don’t know,” she responded, shakily. “This all… what if it works? And… what if it changes things? I… I can’t lose Morgan. I-I can’t.”

Steve came around and cupped Y/N’s face with his large hands. “You are not going to lose Morgan. I will not let that happen, I promise.”

“You can’t control that Steve… you don’t know… I’ve seen things. I know things… something’s still coming.”

“What do you mean?”

She shook her head quickly. “I can’t say anymore. I can’t.”

“Y/N—“

“Don’t push this, Steve. I…” She swallowed, getting a tad dizzy. She gripped onto Steve’s arm, trying to keep herself steady. “I… oh…”

Steve held onto Y/N’s upper arms, noticing that she was struggling. “Talk to me, Y/N. What’s going on?”

“Just keep me close. I’m not feeling so good.”

“Maybe we should sit you down in the other room.”

“No. I want to be here. I need to be here. Just wrap your arm around my waist and keep me close to your side. I don’t want Tony to worry.”

Steve gave in with a sigh before turning so that they were both facing the platform and wrapping an arm around Y/N’s waist. Everyone else was at the control panel and Clint was taking his position on the platform.

“Alright, Clint,” Bruce said. “We’re going in 3… 2… 1!”

A helmet formed over Clint’s head before he went quantum. That was the longest minute of everyone’s lives. Y/N could barely breath as she stared at the space Clint once stood. When he finally rematerialized, Clint was on his hands and knees, breathing heavily. Natasha rushed up the platform, crouching down and cupping Clint’s cheeks. Scott and Tony rushed up onto the platform as well.

“Hey, hey,” she called. “Look at me. You okay?”

Clint held up a baseball glove and threw it at Tony. “Yeah, it worked,” Clint said. “It worked.”

Tony smiled triumphantly, holding the baseball glove, as he turned towards Y/N. She was the only one that didn’t seem excited. In fact, her complexion was off and her breathing pattern had changed. Tony knew what was about to happen before her eyes even rolled back.

“Rogers!” Tony shouted, surprising everyone. “Get her on the ground and on her side. Now!” 

When Tony had called out to Steve, that was when her eyes rolled back and Y/N began to seize. Steve quickly did as he was directed, already familiar with the routine. The whole team quickly surrounded them, with Tony and Bruce pushing to the front to help.

“What’s going on?” Thor asked, confused and completely worried.

“She’s having a seizure,” Natasha responded. “She had a car accident a few years back, left her with some brain issues.”

“When was the last time she had one?” Steve asked as he kept his sister on her side. 

“Probably a little bit over a year,” Tony replied, helping Steve.

They all let out a breath of relief when she finally stopped moving.

“Let’s get her to her bed,” Bruce suggested.

Tony picked her up. “I’ll handle it,” he said. “I’ll get her settled and then we can figure out a plan.”

They watched as Tony carried Y/N away.

“Steve,” Natasha called gently, looking at her friend. “What triggered it?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Steve asked, keeping his eyes on the pair as Tony walked away.

~~~

Y/N immediately knew what had happened the moment she opened her eyes. She was laying in her bed, all tucked in, and Tony was sitting next to her, reading something on his tablet.

“How long have I been out?” Y/N asked, voice slightly horse.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Tony said, placing his tablet down and turning to face her. “You had us all worried.”

“Sorry.”

“What happened?”

“I was just thinking about… well, everything… and I guess I stressed myself over the edge.”

“Maybe you should go home, stay with Morgan.”

“No. I need to be here.”

Tony pursed his lips as he studied his wife. He definitely didn’t like the way she emphasized need. “Why? Why do you need to be here?”

Y/N sighed and closed her eyes. “You know why.”

“No, I really don’t. You’ve always been so vague around your destiny and the Stones and shit. Just tell me what’s going on. What do you know?”

Y/N tossed her covers off and sat up, sitting on the edge of the bed facing away from Tony. “I can’t say Tony.”

“Like hell!” Y/N stood up, walking onto the balcony with Tony following. “If you’re scared of the Stones, no need. They’re gone, Y/N. You felt that yourself.”

“You don’t understand… Things could still happen and I can’t have more lives on my hands than I already do.”

“Y/N, what happened is not solely your fault.”

“But it is. I was tasked to save everyone. And I failed…I failed Wanda, I failed Vision! I failed Peter! And Bucky!”

“Bucky,” Tony scoffed. There had always been a question lingering in Tony’s mind, fighting for an answer. But he was too frightened to know the truth. Until now. He had to know. “Are you still…” He studied Y/N for a quiet moment. “Are you still in love with him?”

“Tony…” She tried to turn away, but Tony grabbed onto her arms, keeping her facing him.

“No, you don’t get to run away right now. I need an answer. If we’re going to do this, bring everyone back. I need to know the truth, once and for all. That I wasn’t the second choice, that I wasn’t just the only option so you went for it… So, tell me, would you have chosen me if Barnes was still here?”

Ending 1: It’s Always Been You >

Ending 2: I’m From Brooklyn, Too >

I hope this wasn’t complete crap. And I couldn’t wait to post this! I know I’m on a break, I just got too excited about getting to the 2 separate parts!

I would love to hear your theories/hopes for the endings! I would love for everyone to read both, especially because they’ll take on Endgame very differently!

Also, my tag list is struggling to work. So please be patient with me. Also, Chapter 140 did not get a tag list because tumblr is the WORST right now and hates me and kept deleting it. So, again, please be patient with me. I’m just a human trying my best.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

OUT OF TIME TAG LIST:  

@paintballkid711​

@cherthegoddess​

@capstopavenger​

@tommy-holland (won’t link)

@marinettepotterandplagg​

@bestofbucky​

@demidia​

@maia030 (won’t link)

@thatrandomcatoverthere​

@xwackk​

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@loveisallyouneed1125​

@jasbins​

@thewidowsghost​

@pukklv​

@thegayseance​

@allonszassbutt​

@caligrl1992 (won’t link)

@superunnatural23​

@fangirl-swagg​

@ihavenocontrolofmylifeeither​

@laic2299​ 

@lilred254​

@livinglikebritishroyalty​

@azure23x​

@sammyrose222​

@taina-eny​

@mallyallyandra (won’t link)

@paintmekala​

@booksarebae2000​

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@a--1--1--3​

@irrelevantyettopicalusername​

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@nish-xiii​

@theofficialzivadavid​

@tuttifuckinfruttifriday​

@outsideratheart​

@23victoria​ 

@austynparksandpizza​

@stuckupstucky​

@aubreeskailynn​

@finnologys​

@love-couldbe-my-weakness​

@i-dumb-bitch​

@osugahunnyicedtea​

[seodami]

Gym surprises | KTH

Genre: Fluff, simping, (((suggestive???no?)))

Warning: thirsting over muscles, being awkward, mentioning of sweat

Word count: 1376

Pairing: Kang Taehyun x reader (gn)

Note: so so I just imagined going to the same gym as Taehyun after watching talk x today and he would honestly be a great gym buddy fr love his determination! Go go Taehyun!✨ anyways please don’t sexualise him I just think he has been working great on himself and has great physics! He is really working hard!

Main Masterlist

Sweat was dripping down your forehead, over the bridge of your nose onto your fitted red sport shirt. You quickly let go of the handles, belonging to the hanging leg raise workout equipment of your local gym. You tried standing.

Your feet were still wobbly from the previous exercise, now having to mainly focus on the intense pain in your abdominal muscles. With a quick movement you grabbed your small towel and dabbed away the fresh sweat on your face. A long sip of water closely followed.

Still with heavy breathing, trying to calm yourself down, you took a glance around the almost vacant gym. There were not many people around at this hour. Most people decided to come near the afternoon.

There was an older woman running on the track mill, humming softly to the tunes played from her headphones you believed. She obviously tried to block out the fast energizing sounds from the gyms speakers. You never minded them, being too occupied with your own thoughts anyway.

Further on the side, there was a very muscular man, working further on his biceps and triceps, even though they probably already had the size of your head. There were some actual gym monsters here. You and your noodle arms couldn’t even dare to compare. But you still wanted to keep fit and sporty, not being the next bodybuilder.

Your eyes moved towards the fully mirrored wall. Your eyes froze upon a head full of reddish hair. And an extremely attractive backside of a young man, probably around your age. Instead of being the decent human being, you should probably be, your eyes watched attentively how his muscles tensed at the impact of the weightlifting. His arms were smaller than the guy before but they looked just right on him. You already admired his hard working spirit.

To put it into words: this guy was absolutely goddamn attractive in your eyes. He had a determined look on his face, his dyed sweaty hair was sticking to his forehead. Besides that, his facial features were just heavenly. Eyes as big as coins and a defined jawline, sharp nose.

When your eyes met his suddenly in the mirror, it struck to you how long you must’ve stared at the stranger. You immediately averted your gaze, anywhere else. Oh look, what a nice water dispenser and wow, nice sweat stain on your shirt. The incoming blush on your face didn’t make it any easier.

Suddenly remembering you still haven’t finished your set, you moved up your recently used machine, propping your back up against the backside and started moving your legs upwards. You just prayed that he didn’t just catch you staring at him so obviously and that wasn’t looking at you now. Why was your life so humiliating sometimes?

When you finished your set, you quickly moved machines, just thinking about moving out of his eye sight radius. To your disadvantage, you didn’t think clearly about where to go next, resulting in you awkwardly trying to find out how to work this machine in particular, you never happened to use before. Really humiliating Y/N, actually!

No matter how hard you tried to move it, it didn’t budge by the impact. Not even an inch. This was just your lucky day. You were on the verge of quitting this unexplainable weird machine and moving on, when you suddenly heard a voice next to you.

“Do you maybe need help with this?” Your head whipped in lightning speed towards the source of the soft voice, to your shock swing the blond haired attractive guy in front of you. He now had a grey towel hanging from his shoulder and a water bottle in his hand. The strands of his hair were still sticking on his damp forehead. You nearly choked from pure air, being in such close proximity to him. From up close, he looked even more handsome.

Your eyes went wide, struggling to say anything. Your head was like cotton candy, nothing wise seemed to come out. You remembered faintly croaking out a strained and way too high ‘yes please’, when he started to explain you what you did wrong. You subconsciously held your breath, having him bend over to the front of the machine to adjust the settings more fitting to you.

“It’s a tricky machine, honestly. I wouldn’t have understood it either without a coaches help.” He explained, his hand now resting on his hip bone. You noticed the thick veins along his strong muscular arm, making you literally wanna hold onto them.

You looked up to him again. He had a gentle smile on his face. “Is it now better? You need to move this up in order to begin- yes just like that - perfect” he watched you finally being able to move on your own. You sighted in relieve, giggling slightly in embarrassment.

“Thank you, oh god I must’ve looked so embarrassing.” He looked down swiftly on the ground before shaking his head laughing lightly. “No it’s all good. Not many people use this machine in the first place. I’m glad to help.”

“You didn’t say it wasn’t embarrassing.” You chuckled, nervously trying to avert your gaze onto his shoes. He giggled childlike, not fitting to his first impression exactly, but still making you feel giddy. “Well, it looked a bit funny but it was cute.” He grinned cheekily. You flushed even harder, trying to persuade yourself that it was only looking like you just had finished a heavy workout.

“Hey, if you have any more questions about equipment or else wise, I’m right over there. Don’t feel shy to ask.” He pointed pack to the place in front of the mirror, he was standing before. His other hand reached for his neck as he send you a last smile, seeing as you nod and thank him again.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, feeling the typical symptoms of an incoming crush. In the corner of your eye you saw him get into position again. Your eyes met again for a swift moment before you both looked away. Were you really that easy to be swooned? Yes you were.

Half an hour and three more exercises machines later, you finally figured out a plan inside your tiny head. You couldn’t just let this chance slip away like the other ones. You were a goddamn strong woman who can pursue her own desires. And you were feeling surprisingly bold after this small encounter, so why not giving it a shot? The worst thing could happen was that you need to change gyms. You could live with that.

So after finally collecting all your courage you possibly could have, you went to the counter, asking for a piece of paper and a pen, quickly writing your phone number and name in large letters.

With a last deep breath, your feet carried you over to the other end of the gym, where the attractive boy was now working hard on the lat pulldown machine. Standing in front of him, you suddenly felt shy again, twiddling with your fingers.

He stopped to greet you again with a bright smile. Without much overthinking, you pressed the small piece of paper in his sweaty hand. He looked up to you with big sparkling eyes as if you should elaborate.

“Just...just you know, if I need anymore advices.” You managed to say, feeling your cheeks warm up once again. Before he could reply anything, you already muttered out a high pitched ‘bye’ and turned around to head towards the changing cabins. You gathered your belongings and left without making a scene or embarrassing you even further. Your whole car ride home was filled with doubtful discussions with yourself.

What you didn’t saw, was his relieved gentle smile after he opened the folded piece of paper, finding your phone number and name on it. Y/N...

So instead of having a shower on top of his priority to do list after going to the gym today, it changed to texting your number with the best feeling of confidence in his system.

[mettleborn-a]

@wrathfulmercy​ said: 

Another sleepless night. Another time where Rick laid restless in the sheets without being able to forget the chaos that was thriving outside of these walls. How many times would they have to save people again and convince them it was for their own good? How many times would he have blood on his hands again just to feel needed, just to feel like he was able to do something in this world? He was just one man and his own deficiency always became clearest when he was laying in this bed. Doing nothing. Resting. How should that work with the world outside dying with every second more?

There had been many nights like this where he sneaked out only armed with his axe, the colt safely on his belt but not planned on being used. It was just him outside in the woods, just him and a few walkers who should distract him from the pounding of his heart. Sometimes it helped to have a outburst like this, to let his adrenaline flow to feel alive and remind himself he was human too. A human who was allowed to rest. But that point wasn’t reached yet.

The lack of fear Rick developed over the years should probably worry him since the walkers had never really lost their intimidating appearance especially in a group, but a part of him felt still dead after all he had seen and been through. A part of him died long ago and didn’t need to be scared anymore of anything. The only thing scaring him now, was failing his family. That he wouldn’t save enough people. That he would be the true reason for the fall of the world. And then he heard a voice.

His thoughts got interrupted and his head turnt into the noises direction, the axe still buried in the chest of the zombie in front of him which he now just kicked off with a frown to land his next strike in its head. His feet started running. Running through wet ground, through grass and around trees. The shadow of a woman appeared, a woman that must have stumbled over one of the big roots that were common to him who knew this forest like his own home, but to strangers it could be easily confusing and while they tried to find the right way, they could lose the overview of where they were walking. Just like her apparently.

A short look to the walker approaching her made it easy to realize that he wouldn’t be fast enough with his axe, but luckily shooting was something he could nearly do with closed eyes and worked like an automatism leading his hand, so Rick just pointed his gun at its head and shot in the darkness, even if all the blood was splattering over the back of the woman where the corpse collapsed on. It was tricky to shoot in such a silence, but this was about a life of someone innocent, even if that word probably lost its meaning over the years.

Without a word he now ran to her to roll the dead body away, the axe hitting the end of the root to free her foot from the sudden trap. “Come here.” Rick said and offered his arm to help her up, the gun sliding back to his belt before he looked around to check it other roamers were approaching, but for now it stayed silent. Maybe they both were cleaning up this area well enough before, in case she would share his weird night activity whenever he couldn’t sleep.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to introduce myself. Rick, Rick Grimes. What are you doing out here? Did you lose track of your group?”

His eyes now fell on her feet again, trying to figure out if she could still walk or was just faking it well to get away from him. “You need some help with this? Now that I ruined your jacket I could at least offer you a look at your injury, we have a doctor at home.” Weird how fast he already was growing fond of Alexandria, wasn’t it? “But well, I understand if you just rather want to go to your people.” he added with a wave of his hand, even if he didn’t know if there really was a group she belonged to, but it wouldn’t hurt to know, would it?

=======================

The small piece of paper in her hand is terribly crinkled, the ink smeared by the sweat of her palm; the instructions detailing how to reach Alexandria now barely legible. It wasn’t Adelia’s intention to reach the community in the dead of night, but a large herd of walkers forced her to take a lengthy detour, adding several hours to her journey. Pausing beside a large tree, Adelia crouches to bury the small note before plunging her fingers deep into the earth, forcing dirt under her fingernails before smearing some of the mud into her hair and down her jeans which are already visibly spattered with dried blood. She needs to look the part; to seem and smell like she has been out here for some time, wandering - abandoned and lost. Her heart has been beating harder with every step, each footfall taking her closer to her destination; to them. This is dangerous, she knows that, knows too that was probably why Negan was so hesitant to send her. She’s no soldier and that’s precisely what makes her the perfect spy; the beauty she’s been blessed with tends to encourage men to lower their guard, cultivating pity and mercy in equal measure and she will use it to her advantage, whenever necessary. The people of Alexandria, however civil they may seem, murdered her friends while they slept soundly in their beds at the satellite station and that is what she clings to now; what keeps her walking towards their compound, no matter how deadly the risk may be; vengeance, for her friends, for the Saviors and most of all, for Negan.

She freezes mid-step as she hears it; the sound of someone running; of leaves crunching hastily under heavy boots. Glancing down, she kicks at a nearby tree root, deliberately lodging her boot into place, as if stuck. She can sense a walker shuffling somewhere behind her, but chooses to allow it to linger, only to add to her feigned helplessness.

The shot that rings out in the dark is deafening and as the walker falls on top of her, she barely flinches as its blood drips down her cheek and instead simply stares through the thick black night towards the man who thinks he just saved her life. With the offer of help, she moves to brace herself closely against him as she rises to stand and he works to release her foot. The name he gives is enough to cause her stomach to violently lurch; she knows that name; spoken by her people as if Lucifer himself. He is the one responsible for all of this, for this uprising - Rick Grimes. She has a backstory, a lie Negan instructed her tell…a sad story of a dead son and a murdered husband…but as Adelia opens her mouth to speak, she finds she can’t suppress her growing sense of outrage and need to take revenge – she’s not a solider and she’s a pretty poor spy too by the looks of things. His show of kindness is unexpected and instantly mistrusted; is he trying to lull her into a false sense of security? Reaching for him, she pretends to limp and seeks his assistance to steady herself, though as soon as she has a good grip of him, her blade instantly finds his throat.

“Don’t move.” She warns as lithe fingers shift to his belt to liberate him of his gun. She knows it’s loaded; she can feel the weight of it. When she was just a little girl her father used to allow her to load his colt with bullets at the gun range; her first introduction to a gun, before she was old enough for him to teach her to shoot, a pastime her mother always thought was entirely unladylike. A cruel irony really, considering she had been forced to use that same unladylike skill to put her mother down when her corpse had risen up seeking Adelia’s throat.  

Carefully Adelia withdraws her knife, immediately sheathing it as she clicks off the safety and holds Grimes at gunpoint. It infuriates her that her hands are shaking – Adelia has killed countless walkers, but the rare truth is that she’s never killed another person and the difference and resulting sense of guilt is not something she was entirely prepared for, though she has to keep in mind that Grimes still has his axe.  “You killed them...” She splutters, aiming for the space between his eyes and feeling a few hot tears spill down her flushed cheeks, which she wipes away with obvious annoyance. She doesn’t want to appear weak, but in truth, she’s not sure she can do it, even recalling her friends’ faces doesn’t help - this feels wrong; to put a man down like a dog in the dirt, a man who offered her his help. “…all of them, in their beds while they slept…you...your people...

“...get…get on your knees.”

[kerakitty]

Hugo’s Age

There’s a lot of conflicting estimates when it comes to Hugo’s age, so I decided to take a whack at it using... SCIENCE!

I went full MatPat on this. I’m talking scholarly articles and pixel measurements! Let’s dive in!

The first thing I did was try to establish a frame of reference for character measurements. Since Lio’s design is heavily based on his VA Sterling K Brown, I figure it’s safe to say Lio is the same height: 6ft or 183cm. This will serve as the basis for all future height/length calculations.

Next I found a study on mandrill growth and development. It’s really dense and most of it is completely irrelevant, so here’s the part I actually used.

Now for the fun part: pixel measurements and math! (I am such a nerd)

So in this first frame, Lio clocks in at 1132px. Since only about half of him is in the shot, I doubled this to 2264px. The study measures the mandrills from the tip of the nose to the base of the tail. The perspective makes that impossible, so I went from Hugo’s hair point to roughly where his tail should be based on his position and how Lio’s holding him. This puts him at 515px.

With those measurements, Hugo is currently about 23% Lio’s size. 23% of 183cm is just over 42cm. And what do you know, there’s a juvenile male mandrill in our reference study that’s almost the exact same size! The mandrill in the study is 2 years old and is only a few centimeters shorter than Hugo. So Hugo is 2 years old! Right?

Well, a lot of people have placed him at about 6 months based on the number of formulas Lio and Song give him (124), but I don’t think that’s a reliable measure. We know the science burrow had limited test subjects. As eager as they were to make progress, experimenting on infants, especially newborns (newly cloned, w/e), would likely be considered too risky. Better to let them get to a more stable age before starting trials to minimize subject loss. All that considered, I’m going with the 2 years figure.

Now in this image Lio stands at 1090px, which I rounded up to 1100 to account for the sliver of his foot that’s outside the frame. Hugo measures in at 612px (hair point to tail base). Using the same method as the previous image, that puts Hugo at 102cm. According to our mandrill study... mandrills don’t get that big. Ever. The largest individual from the study was a 10 year old adult male who was less than 90cm, making Hugo somewhere in the area of 15-20% larger.

That makes sense, he just said his name so the mutagen has clearly already started to take effect and we know it greatly increases animal size. But it makes our chart useless. Luckily we still have formula numbers!

As he walks in the door at the beginning of this scene, Lio says they’re on formula #3853. In Sympathy for the Mandrill, Song says Hugo was on 3 formulas a day, so 3,853 iterations minus 126 for the ones given to him up to the end of day of the first scene, gives 3,727. At 3 a day, that’s 1,242 days or about 3 years and 5 months, putting him at about 5 and half years old.

Now’s where it gets tricky. We no longer have numbered formulas or comparative size to go by, so this is mostly speculation. Song and Lio hadn’t even started Project Kipo yet, so we have however long it took to come up with the project in the first place, the time it took to do research, plus the 9-10 months a human pregnancy lasts.

I have no idea how long Project Kipo took before Kipo was actually conceived, so I’m going to use something else: Hugo’s piano skills. Hugo freestyles a moderately complex piece just before Emilia walks in on him, so I’d guess he’s at level 5 or 6 by this site’s system. So using that same site’s calculator, we can figure out roughly how long it took him to reach that level. Lio’s a professional chemist, not musician or music teacher, so I put him as a Neighborhood Teacher. That caps the calculator at level 5. Hugo’s clearly a fast learner, and I suspect he was practicing as often as possible (including when he wasn’t really supposed to), so I maxed those out. According to the calculator, that’s about 2 years worth of study. Even if he was an absolute prodigy, that’s at least 12-18 months. I’m gonna be conservative and roll with the 2 year figure.

There was likely a decent gap between Hugo saying his name for the first time and starting to learn piano, so that makes him at least 7 1/2 years old at the time he was discovered, but probably closer to 8. Add a few months and the 13 year gap between the fall of the science burrow and the events of the plot, that puts him at around 21-22 years old.

In conclusion: Scarlemagne can legally drink and we need to stop portraying him as a moody teen. The math and science shows that he’s clearly a moody adult.

[wrathfulmercy]

(🌲) My muse finds your muse in the forest in the middle of the night. (Adelia - apoc / TWD verse?)

Moonlight aesthetic starters from here

Another sleepless night. Another time where Rick laid restless in the sheets without being able to forget the chaos that was thriving outside of these walls. How many times would they have to save people again and convince them it was for their own good? How many times would he have blood on his hands again just to feel needed, just to feel like he was able to do something in this world? He was just one man and his own deficiency always became clearest when he was laying in this bed. Doing nothing. Resting. How should that work with the world outside dying with every second more?

There had been many nights like this where he sneaked out only armed with his axe, the colt safely on his belt but not planned on being used. It was just him outside in the woods, just him and a few walkers who should distract him from the pounding of his heart. Sometimes it helped to have a outburst like this, to let his adrenaline flow to feel alive and remind himself he was human too. A human who was allowed to rest. But that point wasn’t reached yet.

The lack of fear Rick developed over the years should probably worry him since the walkers had never really lost their intimidating appearance especially in a group, but a part of him felt still dead after all he had seen and been through. A part of him died long ago and didn’t need to be scared anymore of anything. The only thing scaring him now, was failing his family. That he wouldn’t save enough people. That he would be the true reason for the fall of the world. And then he heard a voice.

His thoughts got interrupted and his head turnt into the noises direction, the axe still buried in the chest of the zombie in front of him which he now just kicked off with a frown to land his next strike in its head. His feet started running. Running through wet ground, through grass and around trees. The shadow of a woman appeared, a woman that must have stumbled over one of the big roots that were common to him who knew this forest like his own home, but to strangers it could be easily confusing and while they tried to find the right way, they could lose the overview of where they were walking. Just like her apparently.

A short look to the walker approaching her made it easy to realize that he wouldn’t be fast enough with his axe, but luckily shooting was something he could nearly do with closed eyes and worked like an automatism leading his hand, so Rick just pointed his gun at its head and shot in the darkness, even if all the blood was splattering over the back of the woman where the corpse collapsed on. It was tricky to shoot in such a silence, but this was about a life of someone innocent, even if that word probably lost its meaning over the years.

Without a word he now ran to her to roll the dead body away, the axe hitting the end of the root to free her foot from the sudden trap. “Come here.” Rick said and offered his arm to help her up, the gun sliding back to his belt before he looked around to check it other roamers were approaching, but for now it stayed silent. Maybe they both were cleaning up this area well enough before, in case she would share his weird night activity whenever he couldn’t sleep.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to introduce myself. Rick, Rick Grimes. What are you doing out here? Did you lose track of your group?”

His eyes now fell on her feet again, trying to figure out if she could still walk or was just faking it well to get away from him. “You need some help with this? Now that I ruined your jacket I could at least offer you a look at your injury, we have a doctor at home.” Weird how fast he already was growing fond of Alexandria, wasn’t it? “But well, I understand if you just rather want to go to your people.” he added with a wave of his hand, even if he didn’t know if there really was a group she belonged to, but it wouldn’t hurt to know, would it?

@mettleborn

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 7 - New York State of Mind

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 

Summary: Your first mission goes wrong and you have to face the consequences. While at the same time trying not to lose your sanity around Neil.

Warnings: Cursing.

Author’s Notes: Back to extremely long chapters! This one was a but more tricky to write due to action scenes but hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think

One could expect that after such an unexpected prelude to the meeting, you would both have difficulties staying in the roles. But surprisingly, it worked to your advantage. From the moment you stepped inside Benny’s, you were eager to do anything else but act. Your head was still a mess, and you were grateful for the distraction. Neil had to smooth his hair (thanks to you) and made sure not to touch you. You hoped that your slightly smeared lipstick would not raise any suspicious glances. In summary, it seemed as though the kiss gave you an upper hand even though you were not sure about the cost. That was until you realised what kind of person your target for the evening was.

Steiner was a rather short man with a grey buzzcut, and a permanent snarl etched on his face. He was constantly supervised by two burly, muscular bodyguards who looked like retired WWE fighters. You were pretty sure that if you were to face them, it would be the end. And Neil with his brains but insignificant physical strength would not be much better. So you said a silent prayer and sat next to your business partner at the table, facing Steiner.

The weapons dealer has led the conversation, asking you both about the most intricate details of your business and the deals you have made with the top players in the nuclear arena. He was very prepared. At first, the conversation flowed smoothly with Neil explaining your roles and what kind of enterprise you have led. But soon, the little advantage you had started to wane. Another question thrown your way made you focus your attention on the moment:

“So, this deal you have struck with Russians and Koreans” he spoke with a thick Austrian accent that reminded you of cartoon villains “How threatening is it to the US government?” he stared at you with a steel-like glare.

You shifted nervously on the seat before trying to put on your best neutral face:

“Quite threatening, I’d say” you smirked “But we’re not allowed to discuss any details for the sake of our clients. I’m sure a man like you would understand” you bated your eyelashes, hoping to use your charm.

He eyed you somewhat sleazily, and you instantly regretted the decision

“What miss Sloane means is that we can’t disclose more than we’ve already told you” your partner spoke with his deep British accent, and you stole a glance at him.

He looked tense; you could tell that he also sensed your failure.

“I need to know how the piece we’re discussing here can fit in with all this” Steiner interjected “I’ve got some big names in the weapons industry after it and wouldn’t want to anger them by selling it to somebody else” he shrugged “I have to admit that I don’t believe a word of what you’re trying to sell me” he smiled but it was more like a cruel sneer.

You felt a spike of anxiety. Watching Steiner turn towards his bodyguards, you knew that you were losing. Impulsively you reached out for Neil’s knee and squeezed it under the table. If it was not for the increasing panic, you would have noticed that he shuddered when you touched him. His eyes met yours, and you did your best to share the worry you felt. He understood, nodded, and grabbed your hand before addressing Steiner:

“If you don’t want to sell the piece to us, it’s your loss really”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the bodyguards ushering people out of the room. Fuck. You quickly reached for the clutch bag in your lap. Soon it was just the five of you left in the bar.

“Who do you work for?” the Austrian got up and leaned on the table “MI6? FBI? Huh?” his cold gaze somehow got even icier.

That was it. You have royally fucked it, so to speak. Clutching Neil’s hand, you leaped up from your seat and trained your eyes on the bodyguards. Their hands were ready on the guns.

“Do you really think that top intelligence organisations would be interested in this?” Neil clung to his charm as one does to a lifeline “You’re making a very stupid decision right now. I just want you to think about that for a moment”

“I’m done thinking”

Steiner turned towards the henchmen again. Neil met your gaze with a serious expression and pushed you behind him, reaching for the gun hidden underneath the jacket.

“Kill them both. They’re spies” the Austrian barked out the order at his bodyguards.

At his words, all hell broke loose. All four of you reached for the guns, with fingers ready on the triggers. The bodyguard was quickest, and before you could react, you were pushed to the ground by Neil. The gunshot rang in the quiet room, and you looked around fervently to see who has been hit. Your eyes fell on your partner, who has doubled over with a pained expression. You saw a small crimson stain spread through the white of his shirt on the side of the torso. Your eyes widened with realisation. You have been stood in the exact spot before Neil shielded you. Another salve of gunshots echoed with bullets raining down. Neil kept his post, but you could tell that he was suffering. You jumped back on your feet and aimed the gun at the bodyguard closest to you. You fired and watched as the bullet hit him square in the the chest. He fell dead. Steiner was not expecting that. He stared at you with a panicked expression before being dragged out of the room by the only henchman left. You breathed out. That was probably your only chance at escape.

“Are you okay?” Neil’s worried voice and his hand on your shoulder threw you out of the stupor.

“It’s not me who has been shot” you glanced at the spreading bloody stain on his side and frowned “We should leave before they come back”

“Right” he squeezed your shoulder before reaching down to take your hand in his.

You stared at him surprised, but before you could ask, he led you out of the bar and into the street. Outside you stopped to look at him, searching for any signs of pain. He met your gaze with uncertainty. You briefly wondered if things between you have changed for the worse irrevocably.

“Are you alright?” you finally asked, echoing him from only minutes prior.

“Of course” he attempted a sly grin, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes “Never been better” the hand that was still holding yours tightened the hold “We should go”

Reluctantly, you let him lead you back to the hotel. After a few minutes of awkward silence, you could not help but point out:

“You shouldn’t have shielded me back there. I can shoot well” you glared but refused to meet his eye.

Your joined hands were like a harsh reminder of what happened tonight. You felt his thumb brush over your knuckles and inhaled sharply.

“I know you can, but I didn’t want you to be shot” his raw tone surprised you “And please don’t ask why because I’m not sure I could explain”

You stopped in your tracks to stare at him. He dropped your hand. This evening can’t get harder, can it?

“Neil…” you started, unsure of what you wanted to say.

“Please not now” he was looking at you with fondness “We’ll talk, but first we need to get back to the hotel” he moved too fast and flinched from pain.

In an instant, you were at his side, brushing away the lapel to look at the state of his shirt. It was slick from blood, and it started to seep through the jacket as well. That was all you needed to pick up your pace and withhold any questions. When you got to the hotel, it became clear that you would need to create a distraction to get through the lobby. Stopping just a few paces away from the door, you turned to him.

“I’ve got an idea, but I’m not sure you’ll like it” you announced, feeling panic even at the thought itself.

“Fire away” his face was quite pale “I’m sure it’s brilliant”

You took a deep breath before blurting out the terrible plan that somehow formed in your head:

“Just embrace me so that your wound is obscured by my dress. If you wrap your arms around my waist, they’ll think we’re just… too cosy and won’t ask questions” you were pretty sure you will regret it soon enough.

Neil stared at you, clearly considering it, before asking:

“Are you sure that’s okay?” he stepped a bit closer as if trying to assess your level of sanity.

“Yeah” you shrugged and met his gaze “It was my idea after all”

After another few seconds of scrutiny, he smiled lightly and pulled you closer by placing his hands on your waist. The touch was too familiar. You shivered at the contact, immediately cursing yourself for coming up with the plan. But there was no time to suffer, so you just wrapped your arm around his neck and started toying with the hair ends at the nape of his neck. Hugging each other like that, you walked into the hotel lobby. There, naturally, only to be more believable, you allowed yourself to rest your head on Neil’s shoulder. Breathing in his scent, you felt his hands brush over your back and stomach. He leaned down to place a small kiss on your temple, and you felt your cheeks grow warmer. That moment was doing nothing to help clear your head. It was, in fact, the worst idea that you ever came up with.

No-one stopped you on the way to the lift, where once the door shut, you quickly entangled yourself from Neil and took a step away. Now your dress too was stained with blood. You did not dare look at him until you were absolutely forced to. You felt his gaze burning into the side of your head and roaming over your figure.

“Sorry about the dress” he said finally, just as you disembarked the lift.

“Don’t worry about it” you managed a small smile and met his gaze.

You stared at each for a short while, but this time you both were cautious. You felt strange, only now fully realising what happened tonight. Everything, beginning with the kiss, was like a fevered dream. Somewhere on the verge of your consciousness, you remembered that you killed a man tonight. But you knew that the reality of the situation will only dawn on you later. Now all you cared about was Neil and his shirt soaked with blood. Sobering up, you took his hand and started leading him down the corridor. Then you both went into his room, and you let go of his hand, desperately trying to control the situation.

“Shouldn’t we call for the emergency team?”

But before you managed to finish the question, your eyes widened. Neil just stripped his jacket, followed by the tie and shirt. The clothes landed on a pile on the floor, and he met your astounded look with a smirk:

“Why are you so shocked? It’s not like you’ve not seen me like this before” he winked, enjoying your startled state.

“Do you always have to be such an arse?” you focused on glaring at him to avoid looking at anything else.

“Only for you, my dear” with that he disappeared into the bathroom.

Right… maybe things are not quite so different.

You gave yourself a mental slap to the face before following Neil. He was looking at the gunshot wound in the mirror as you tentatively approached him. It looked rather bad with a significant blood loss. Pushing away the rising concern, you took one of the spare towels, dipped it in water, and begun to clean the wound. You surprised him with your actions, and he visibly tensed when the cloth touched the wound. Briefly, you wondered whether it was because of you or from the pain.

Once all of the dried blood was removed from the area, it was clear that the bullet was still inside. It has most certainly missed any vital organs, and that was good news. You took a step back to assess his state and was met with a very intense look from Neil. You had a feeling that if it was not for the gravity of the situation, you would not be able to stop yourself from making another mistake. But now was certainly not the time.

“We really should call for a doctor” your voice was weirdly hoarse “Someone needs to take out the bullet”

“There’s no need, I’ve done it before” you watched with horror as he reached for a pair of tweezers.

Slapping his hand away, you glared:

“Neil”

“What? You don’t have to look while I do it” he shrugged and once again tried to pick at the wound with the metal instrument.

You grabbed his wrist in a tight grip and met his gaze with defiance.

“Even if you’ll somehow manage to extract the bullet, someone should see it” you hated how close to pleading you were “You could get an infection”

For the first time, he seemed speechless, thinking hard about the next counterargument. Then, as his eyes lit up with the well-known smug smile on his lips, you knew what was coming.

“You must really care about my well-being” he mused, looking way too pleased.

“Yes. I do” you replied seriously “So please, stop this alpha male self-reliance bullshit, and let me get help” you let go of his wrist and looked into his eyes, not hiding the annoyance and worry you felt.

He searched your eyes for a moment before nodding.

“Thank you” you whispered.

Before you could leave the bathroom to dial the number, Neil quickly grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed your knuckles while looking into your eyes with fondness and admiration. It was too much too soon. You drew your hand away and left the room without looking behind.

*** The emergency team just had to know your exact location, mission code, and an answer to the set secret question, which was a way of assuring your identity. They registered your call and promised to arrive within fifteen minutes.

You were not ready to face Neil again, so you just changed into comfortable clothes, discarding the bloodied dress in the bathroom corner. You felt impossibly tired, with a pounding headache and aching body. Just as you considered collapsing onto the bed and falling asleep in an instant, you heard a knock on the connecting doors. You sighed and called out:

“Come in”

The door creaked, and you could see Neil’s silhouette leaning on the wooden frame.

“They should come soon” you announced, feeling the awkwardness settle between you.

It was only fair, you thought. At some point, you both had to understand what happened, and surely it would mean that things would be somewhat different.

“Sorry about earlier. I know I can be annoying sometimes” you turned to look at him at the admission.

“Yeah, you really can” you frowned, and he smiled at the sight.

You observed each other in silence. You were grateful that he kept his distance so you could keep your sanity intact for the moment.

“I wish I understood why the mission failed” he mused out loud “I would’ve sworn we had him figured out”

“Not everyone falls victim to your charm, Neil” you glanced up at him with a tired smile.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the knock echoing from his room interrupted him. He seemed hesitant so you just nodded. He took one last look at you before leaving to open the door.

Once it was clear that it was the emergency team that arrived, you made an effort to show up and have a look at them. It was a small group consisting of one woman and three men, all familiar with Neil and rather indifferent towards you. Nothing new then. After they made sure you were perfectly fine and you have logged in the mission into the system, it was made clear that you were no longer needed.

Perhaps it was for the better. You managed to steal one last glance at Neil through the bathroom door left cracked open. His wound was being stitched, and he looked a bit worse for wear. But he was alive, and that was what mattered. With that knowledge, you quietly retired to your own room and locked the door.

Sighing, you finally got into the bed and tried to relax. Soon enough, the images from the bar began flashing before your eyes. You always expected your first kill to be harsh, but the events of the day made it worse. You just hoped for a little rest during the night. And no nightmares.

*** A journey back to Boston could be summed up with one word – awkward. The emergency team took you back in their minivan, which meant spending 4 hours in silence or risking small talk. You preferred to stay quiet and look out through the window, worried that the conversation with strangers could prove to be difficult. Even talking to Neil seemed like a hard achievement at the moment. Apart from exchanging a rather stiff ‘good morning’ upon meeting, you did not speak with each other at all. And it did hurt. The only consolation were the few looks you stole from him when everyone else seemed distracted.

By the time you arrived at the HQs, the prospect of the post-mission briefing with TP seemed almost exciting. You followed Neil to the conference room, where the boss was already waiting for you. You watched as him and Neil embraced and smiled at the sight.

“It’s good to see you both back… almost intact” the Protagonist warily eyed Neil’s side “How are you?”

“Oh it’s nothing” Neil waved his hand dismissively before looking at you pointedly “If it wasn’t for someone’s panic, I wouldn’t even need the doctor’s help”

You glared and tried to control your emotions, not to make a scene in front of someone else. But TP just chuckled, eyeing you both with interest.

“You should thank Y/N for potentially saving your ass” he joked, and you smiled, glad someone stood up for you.

“Yeah exactly, I never got a thank you” feeling braver, you approached them and joined the small circle in the centre of the room.

“In which case, apologies m’lady” Neil took a step towards you and took your hand in his “And thank you” he kissed the back of your hand, all the while maintaining eye contact.

You blushed and quickly took a step back.

“No worries” you looked back at the Protagonist warily, but he only grinned. It did seem like he was used to moments like that involving his colleague. The thought made you feel strange, and you were not sure if it was due to jealousy or something else.

“Okay, tell me what happened with Steiner”

You all sat down at the table, and Neil began to summarise the mission:

“We contacted Raul, who helped us set up the meeting with Steiner. The pretext was that we’re dealing with nuclear weapons and are intrigued by his newest offer. We prepared our roles rather well, I think” he glanced at you as though trying to ascertain what you remembered from the day.

You looked down, suddenly overwhelmed with the images and feelings. The flirting, the persisting touch on your knee, the way he looked at you just before the kiss. You swallowed hard and tried to compose yourself as Neil continued the story.

“The beginning of the meeting went well, but then he started getting suspicious, and nothing was working on him. Once he started giving signs to his bodyguards, we knew that the mission has been compromised so we prepared for the showdown. I got shot in the side before Y/N took out one of the minions. Steiner then left with the other one, and we evacuated” he finished and took a sip from the glass of water.

You stared at him, wondering why he omitted the detail about the bullet being meant for you. But he only acknowledged your gaze with a curt nod. Clearly now was not the time for important conversations. TPs voice brought you out of the thoughts:

“Do you think he has been warned?”

“Maybe” you spoke up, and they both looked at you “But to me, it seemed more like he was scared of disappointing a client to whom he promised the piece” you tried to remember the exact things said “He definitely mentioned something about powerful people being after the plutonium and that he doesn’t want to anger them”

“Good point” Neil nodded “I wish we could have gotten a name out of him”

“I have a few candidates” the Protagonist’s dark gaze stared into space with confidence “But it’s too early to share their names” he smiled apologetically.

Neil sighed and commented:

“It’s always too early for you to share anything” he glared at his friend.

“I know, and as usual, I’m sorry” you observed them both with interest “Soon you’ll know why I’m keeping all those secrets from you”

“I fucking hope so because I’m getting tired of all those half-truths” Neil’s gaze grew darker, and you wanted to reach out and take his hand.

Instead, you only stared as he got up and started pacing the room.

“What’s next in store then?” he asked after a short tense silence.

Before TP could answer, an agent burst into the room:

“I’m sorry boss, but Neil, you’re needed in the field” he looked panicked.

“Right now?” Neil’s gaze quickly flitted between all of you present in the room.

“Yes, it’s urgent” with that the agent left the room.

Then you watched curiously as Neil and the Protagonist exchanged a short conversation without speaking out loud. Then TP focused on the laptop screen with his back turned, while Neil approached you:

“I’m sorry about this” he looked into your eyes earnestly.

Once again, he meant everything, and you nodded. There was not much point in being angry at the universe, was there?

“It’s okay. We’ll talk when you’re back” gently, you reached out to brush away a stray strand that was falling into his eyes “Just be safe out there and… come back to me” you forced a small smile, tracing the sharp outline of his jaw.

Even though you were acutely aware of not being alone in the room, for once you did not care. Things were far from clear between you, but now there was no time to focus on all that you did not understand.

“Always” Neil beamed back “Wouldn’t want you to suffer life without me for too long” he smirked.

You lightly smacked him in the chest, not hiding the feelings that could be seen in your eyes. Neil understood; you were sure of that. A sharp knock on the door interrupted the moment, and he sighed.

“I’ll text you” he squeezed your hand for goodbye and left the room without a further word.

Does he even have my number?, you wondered before remembering about TPs presence in the room. He was watching you quietly with a small smile on his face. His expression made you braver.

“You know something you haven’t told us” you mused out loud “About me and him” you added.

He shrugged while still looking at you with an amused gleam in his eyes.

“I only know that while Neil can be an annoying piece of shit sometimes, you do like him. Despite yourself” he chuckled at your horrified expression “Now, why don’t we have a little something to eat while we talk?”

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael in the Mainstream: Crash Bandicoot

Reviewing video games is not my forte. Like, sure, I can review the Metal Gear franchise because it’s near and dear to my heart and it’s incredibly story driven to a cinematic degree, but I’m not super good at touching on game design or any of that. I stick with movies. But then there are a lot of games I love and want to talk about, such as this game, Crash Bandicoot, and it’s like, how do I talk about this? This is a platformer that is very light on plot and is more about precision platforming than anything, and I’m just not really good at talking about gameplay.

But I’ve come up with a solution! One that I plan to use going forward for a few other games, too! I’ll start with a few paragraphs with my basic overview of the game, and then I will do a ranking of my favorite levels, and then how I’d rank the bosses. I’m much better at talking why I enjoy the challenge of specific elements of games like these then I am talking about the game as a whole, so let’s see how this turns out.

Crash Bandicoot was the first video game I ever played, and so is extremely near and dear to my heart. It’s a rather simple game, a “save the girl” platforming adventure in the vein of something like Mario, where an intrepid hero travels through platforming challenges to save the love of his life from an evil mastermind, though as the main character is a furry animal with a bit of 90s ‘tude, and his archenemy is a mad scientist who utilizes cyborgs to stop you, there’s a dash of Sonic in here too. Being a simple platforming game like this, you’d think there wouldn’t be all that much to the story… but surprisingly, that’s not totally the case (although the story is still relatively simple to later entries).

Crash was meant to be the ultimate soldier in Dr. Neo Cortex’s army of evil marsupials and other assorted critters, an army he presumably was going to use for world domination. After rigorous training, Crash was set to be brainwashed and turned into a mindless slave, but something got screwed up and Crash remained a good, heroic guy. He ended up chased out a window and washed up on the beach of a nearby island, and set out to save his buxom, big booty bandicoot babe Tawna from the creepy clutches of the cantankerous Cortex, causing chaos and crushing crates as he went along. The manual included with the original version of the game actually outlined sort of a little story for the first island, showing how the levels involved Crash infiltrating a native village, defeating its leader, and then riding a hog to escape on his way to the next island. It’s kind of fun and imaginative, and the next island keeps it up, with Crash having to brave ancient ruins to make it to the volcano on the other side of the island, before finally going through Cortex’s toxic power plant, causing a reactor meltdown, and climbing Cortex’s castle to confront him as his island burns to the ground. It’s a fun, simple story that’s not too challenging on the mind while still being engaging.

Perhaps the best thing about the game is the music, which was done by Josh Mancell with the assistance of Mark Mothersbaugh’s Mutato Muzika production company. Let’s not beat around the bush here: Every single track in this game slaps. Basically every track in the original trilogy slaps, but I feel pound for pound this game just hits all the right notes with its music. It perfectly sets the tone for each level, with eerie levels like Slippery Climb getting foreboding music and unsettling yet somewhat whimsical levels like Road to Nowhere getting music that perfectly suits it. This is the biggest downgrade of the remake; they redid the score, with no option to go back to the old tracks, and while some of the updated tunes are great, they don’t really hold a candle to the original (especially the creepier levels, which got dumbed down a fair bit to the point of narm).

The one thing this game is being known for these days is its pretty brutal difficulty, at least with the original release. A lot of the staple elements of the series like checkpoints saving the boxes you had previously broken and an actual save room were not present, so every level (including the brutal ones where the margin of error was incredibly slim) needed to be completed perfectly in one go. The challenging road to 100% completion was absolutely brutal, but thankfully the remake polished things and brought it more in line with its sequels to the point you only need a flawless run on colored gem levels. It can still be pretty tough since the colored gems are located in the hardest levels of the game, but it’s a lot easier than it once was.

The original game is a great, fun game, but only play the original release if you really want to test your skills; the remake is the way to go. The game holds up amazingly well even today, so no matter which version you end up playing you’re in for a fun platforming challenge.

Anyway, let’s get on to the levels!

TOP 10 LEVELS

10. Generator Room

There’s something to be said about the various one-shot themed levels of the third island. Toxic Waste is an interesting one we’ll talk about later, The Lab is a fun penultimate level, and Cortex Power is a frustrating slog of confusing backtracking. The Generator Room, though? This is unnerving atmosphere and dark ambience at its peak, with the eerie, minimalist music and the looming Cortex faces lending a chilling sense that you’re being watched as you make your way through this dark platforming challenge. It’s not the most exciting level, but among the one-shot themes it stands out for being a heaping helping of nightmare fuel… Though moreso in the original game. The remake sadly toned things down a bit too much, though it’s hard to blame them, really.

9. Native Fortress

The level that caps off the first island is a more challenging remake of The Great Gate, and closes out the story of the first island by showing how Crash escapes the territory of Papu Papu’s tribe. It’s a pretty fun and reasonable challenge for the point in the game, but my favorite aspect of the level has always been that, when you get the red gem, you get to fly up in the clouds and experience the painted background of the other two islands with less clutter. It’s just a simple background image, sure, but I have always found it very pretty and breathtaking.

8. Road to Nowhere

Everyone’s favorite! This is one of the more challenging levels if you don’t know what you’re doing because of the tricky and precise jumps you need, but it just has so much atmosphere and pleasant music it’s hard to get mad even if I screw up and plummet to my doom a few dozen times. Bouncing off of hibernating turtles to make long jumps and inexplicable evil hogs help make this memorable. Frankly, if you want to direct your ire to a stage, direct it to The High Road, the third island’s more challenging take on this level’s theme and which is a joyless, frustrating experience.

7. Castle Machinery

This level is honestly a bit of a breather for being so late in the game; sure, it has a lot of tricky jumps and an annoying crate bridge you need to really think about to conquer, but overall it’s just an improved take on Heavy Machinery without an obtuse branching path to figure out. Still, this level really makes the list because, if you have the right colored gem, you can just immediately skip the entire level and gain thirty free lives in the process in one of the single funniest moments in the game.

6. Toxic Waste

This level is simple, straightforward, and to the point. It’s one long-ass hallway where Crash is on a narrow walkway and has to avoid incoming barrels being tossed at him by the Mafia. It has no branching paths, no crazy elements, just Crash, some barrels, some boxes, and some bad guys. It’s almost too basic, but what saves it is the atmosphere of it all and the sheer awesomeness of the music, no matter which version you’re playing. It’s a level that has stuck in my mind since I was a kid. In a way, it also set the basis for colored gem unlocks in the games to follow, as avoiding the barrels is more of a puzzle than anything, much like the tricky puzzles you had to solve to unlock the colored gems in Cortex Strikes Back and It’s About Time. It’s a neat little first step even if it’s not quite there yet.

5. Boulder Dash

I almost didn’t include one of these levels, but God, these levels were trendsetters! The whole “Crash gets chased by dangerous thing” trend began in this game, and this second take on the boulder chase from the second island is a lot more fun and challenging than the earlier version of the level. And if you get the colored gem, you’re taken to a pretty underground alternate exit with tons of crates, which is pretty dope.

4. Fumbling in the Dark

The only one of the secret levels that requires a Cortex key to make the list, Fumbling in the Dark is a remix of Lights Out, the level it branches off of. That level is a bit of a cakewalk if you have the right gem, with an alternate exit being available to you before the level’s challenge ramps up. Not so with this level! You’ve gotta do some tricky timed jumps as quick as possible so you can get to the next Aku Aku mask before the light runs out. It’s a pretty fun and fair challenge, and it pushes my platforming skills to the limit. I also just really enjoy the creepy, Gothic aesthetic of the levels inside Cortex’s castle.

3. Hog Wild

This is, hands down, the funniest level in the game. From Crash’s really suggestive eyebrow waggle which leads to him tackling a pig to the extremely goofy music, this level is just an absolute blast. It does have an equally fun yet more challenging remix as an optional secret level, Whole Hog, but I have to give props to the original level for being the most hilarious thing I ever saw when I was little.

2. Slippery Climb

Where Stormy Ascent is a brutal, unrelenting challenge, Slippery Climb is more of a tough, but fair challenge. It’s definitely up there with Sunset Vista and The High Road in terms of difficulty, and the fact you’ve gotta do a flawless run of it if you want the red gem is daunting, but this is the most thoroughly rewarding mandatory level to conquer. You’re gonna feel really cool when you take this one down, guaranteed. Maybe not as much as when you take down Stormy Ascent, but still, this may be the toughest level in the game.

1. THE GREAT HALL

WOO YEAH BABY! LOOK AT THIS CHALLENGE!

Ok, ok, here’s the real number one:

1. N. Sanity Beach

This is the first level in the game and, thus, one of the easiest. And yet I placed it above all the levels I find to be more fun and challenging. Why? Well, for one, the pure nostalgia of it all. This was my first level in a video game, and I have fond memories of traversing the beach and jungle. For the other, this is one of the most perfect tutorial levels I have ever seen. Basically everything the game has to offer is laid out to you and slowly dished out to you: you start with a couple crates and a free life, move on to experience some enemies and pits, you can get total invincibility if you’re smart, you’re introduced to branching paths and backtracking… Everything is dished out to you at a solid pace so that any new player will be able to figure out what they’re doing with relative ease. Plus, the music slaps, and interestingly enough halfway through the level changes to a different song (the only level to do this). It really does encapsulate the game as a whole in one tiny package, and for that, I think it’s my favorite level of all.

Boss Ranking

The best way to describe the bosses in the original Crash is that they are incredibly basic. Most of them have simple patterns, easy tells, and don’t take much effort to take down. There’s not really anything here that will put your skills to the test, but none of them are really bad per se; in fact, considering how hard the levels can get, it’s sort of a breath of fresh air when you get to a boss that can be taken down without thinking hard.

6. Papu Papu

Coming in last place is our first boss, the big chief of the first island himself. He’s a pretty simple and straightforward boss battle: just jump on his head a few times and he’ll be out cold. It’s pretty nice to ease in new players, but it’s seriously not much of a challenge (though none of these bosses are particularly hard, mind you).

5. Koala Kong

So far, this has been Koala Kong’s sole major outing, as he was pretty quickly replaced with the more engaging Tiny Tiger in terms of dumb muscle.Tiny at least has some semblance of combat prowess and strategy, while this guy is just tossing boulders at you to spin back while he’s flexing and posing like he wants a part in the next volume of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure. He’s certainly not the sharpest tool in the shed. Still, he’s not bad or anything, just a bit of a generic battle compared to the last three or the one before him.

4. Ripper Roo

Ripper Roo is a bit of a frustrating puzzle boss, requiring just the right timing to get in any damage on the guy. Still, the fun and bouncy music coupled with the amazing stock laugh does help make him a bit more memorable than the previous two bosses. I will say he’s probably worse in terms of an actual boss battle, because he ends up being more an exercise in precision than the typical dodging and waiting for the right moment to strike, but he’s also a funny kangaroo in a straitjacket, and I think that counts for something.

3. N. Brio

The longest boss in the game, Brio comes with a massive health bar that you’ll shave off pretty quickly for his first phase if you’re careful, and whose second phase features him hulking out into an incredible monstrosity. He’s simple and straightforward, much like all the bosses to be honest, but I think the bosses on the final island all have solid presentation to make up for that. Brio just comes out at the lower end, which is honestly a running theme for him in Crash games, as his battles are rarely the best out there and few can match his debut.

2. Pinstripe

Pinstripe may not be the most challenging boss in the world, but damn is he cool. A tommy gun-toting potoroo gangster who goes full-on Scarface and starts blasting up his office when you walk in while cackling like a madman? Awesome. Defeating him is also heavily implied to be the reason Cortex’s castle eventually starts burning down, as he accidentally shoots the generator upon defeat, which is a neat little touch. If nothing else, Pinstripe is just fun, and he has killer theme music to boot.

1. Cortex

Cortex begins his reign as the big bad of the franchise with a final boss battle that, while lacking in serious challenge, has such good music and presentation that it’s hard to really care. The fight is simple and straightforward: you dodge his blasts, and hit back the ones of a certain color so they blast his health off. All of this is done from atop his dirigible, as his island burns down in the background. The bosses just don’t get any cooler than this.

[rothane]

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Gang violence, violence against women and violence in general. Nothing super graphic and it’s honestly mostly just fade to black and implied, but just to be safe. References to arson and housefires in part one.

NOTES: Technically the first half should have been posted a week ago but I did not get that far lmao so now it’s just all in one. I didn’t proof read so good luck ig.

TLDR; The man Georgia shot last week approached Ro for help in the hospital parking lot and she turned him down; a week later the Rogues beat her ass.

FEBRUARY 5, 2021 / MIDNIGHT

With fires breaking out all over town, the medical center had been all hands on deck. Rowan was sure she broke every traffic bylaw in the book on her way there, hastily dropping all four children off with her parent’s and barely managing to give them a rundown on what was happening. Her heart felt like it was in her throat when she left, unsure what kind of fresh hell she was going to be walking into when she got there and trying to plan for the absolute worst case scenarios. House fires are always tricky. She has a hard time putting herself in her patients shoes, finding herself walking a balanced line of emotional and professional while she keeps it together for all of their sake, even if she knows she’ll cry when she gets back in her car at the end of the night. It’s getting exhausting --- every day seems like it just brings a new battle for them, and honesty she isn’t sure how much longer the town is going to be able to stay standing.

Her shift at the hospital goes by exactly as she thinks it will. She holds herself together amongst all of the tragedy, delivering care to her patience with professionalism and empathy for their situations. It’s difficult to leave them at the end of the night, knowing that they’ve just had their entire lives ripped out from under them. Harper doesn’t have a home to go back to tomorrow when she’s released, the last memory she had of her fiance having literally gone up in flames right in front of her. Her niece will be staying at the hospital for at least a week, if not longer. Her little body has taken far more damage than it should have, leaving her lungs compromised and her breathing in need of assistance. Rowan knows, sadly, that this is only the start of a long journey of recovery for the little girl not to mention her brothers and her mother, who are all sure to have some sort of PTSD from the ordeal. Part of her doesn’t want to leave at all, knowing that her best friend and her sister could both use the support of her there but honestly, she’s running on fumes and she just can’t stay there any longer. So she makes her rounds and says her goodbyes, promising to be back in the morning and takes her leave.

When she finally makes it down to the parking lot, she’s so tired she isn’t paying attention to her surroundings. It’s something that she can practically hear her husband scolding her about, but in the moment all she can think about is going home, taking a shower and sinking into bed for the next six hours. She’s pulled from those longing thoughts, however, at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. She nearly drops her keys, letting out a yelp as she spins around to see who it is. She doesn’t recognize either of them. A man and a woman in cuts she can only assume say Rogues on the back of them, the man clearly in need of medical attention as what looks to be a bullet wound on one of his arms seeps blood onto the concrete around them.

“He needs help.”

Rowan barely hears the words over the sound of her heart beating in her chest and she’s already mentally calculating how long it will take her to turn around and get into her car. She’s pretty sure she can outrun them, given the state the man is in but she has no idea if they’re armed or not -- though she has a feeling it’s leaning more toward the former.

“He needs to go inside. The doctor on call will take care of him.”

The response that comes is what she had been expecting, but she backs up enough that her back is against the SUV when the woman begins speaking again. “We’re not here to have a paper trail followin’ us. We know you work for the club off the books. You’re gonna do the same for us.”

Before Rowan has a chance to properly respond, the man makes a noise of pain. His partner is distracted, giving Rowan a window of opportunity to make her move and within a split second, she’s slamming the door behind her as she gets into her car. A second later, the door handle is being violently yanked on, and she glances out the window to see the man slumped against a car a few rows away and the woman banging on the glass.

“If you leave now you’re gonna regret it.”

But it falls on deaf ears, shaking hands moving to put the car into drive, tires screeching as she flies out of the parking lot and watches her figure get smaller in the rearview. For a moment, she wonders if the whole thing had been some kind of exhaustion induced hallucination, sure that something like that couldn’t have actually just happened. But the blood streaked handprint on her window is a difficult reminder that, unfortunately, it had been very, very real. A string of curses leave her lips before taking a deep breath, fighting off the urge to vomit and while she wants to head straight home, Rowan knows better. While she had only seen two people, who really knows just how many members of the Rogues had been there and she picks up her phone to call Ryder while taking random turns on the off chance that someone is tailing her.  Ten minutes later she finally gets home, Ryder having met her in the driveway and his presence is more than enough to keep her from completely losing her shit.

FEBRUARY 14, 2021 / 7 PM.

Rowan is late --- something she doesn’t do very well with. A follow up appointment with a patient from a few weeks ago having gone over time and left her scrambling to change out of her scrubs and into her dress in her office bathroom. When she finally comes out, still struggling to get her shoes on, she can tell the prospect who has been stuck with babysitting duty is anxious. It’s clear in the way he checks his watch for the third time since he sat down in the patient’s vacated seat, and the way he can’t stop bouncing his leg.

“You got a hot date waitin’ on you, Todd?” She teases him gently, and his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

His voice is higher than usual when he answers back, sheepish and uncharacteristically shy at being called out. “My girlfriend. She made dinner tonight, and she’s not a real patient lady.”

“Sounds familiar,” she snorts in response, finishing the buckle on her shoe and slipping her jacket up and over her shoulders. Todd is still just a prospect and obviously has a ways to go before he actually finds himself patched in and able to give his girlfriend the Old Lady title but if she’s as impatient and stubborn as he has lead her to believe over the weeks, Rowan has a feeling she’ll be able to hold her own more than well enough.  “I’ll make you a deal, once we get down to the parking lot we can part ways. I’m just goin’ over to the restaurant anyways, there’s no need to follow me.” It’s clear that he’s about to protest, surely going over the laundry list of threats her husband has made over the last month and Rowan is quick to interrupt. “It’ll be our secret. If you make it home on time maybe you can still get lucky tonight.”

And that has him embarrassed enough that the poor kid doesn’t bother arguing anymore. Instead, they take the elevator down to the main floor where Rowan signs out and they take their leave. His motorcycle is parked next to her car, and they exchange goodbyes and Rowan gets in one more teasing jab about him having a goodnight before the two of them take separate exits. The drive to the restaurant is less than twenty minutes, and Rowan figures if she speeds, she can make it in twelve. But judging by the flashing lights behind her, she has a feeling that hadn’t been her greatest idea. She curses under her breath, pulling over to the side of the road as what she assumes is a police cruiser pulls up behind her. She fumbles to get her license and registration out after rolling the window down and she’s already spewing an excuse when someone approaches the door.

“I know I was speedin’. Sorry, office I---”

But it dies on her lips when the person leans forward and she sees the same woman from a week earlier. “Hey sweetheart. Remember me?”

The words have her blood running cold, but before she can think of an escape plan the familiar feeling of fingers tangling in her hair pulls her back to the moment, her face coming down with a harsh blow to meet the steering wheel. “You should’ve just helped us when you had the chance.” Rowan’s already disoriented, though she begins to fully panic when her door is flung open and she is pulled from the vehicle. After that, everything seems to be muted and dark, she’s barely aware of what is going on around her and she passes out after only a few moments. Two hours later, she wakes up back at the hospital --- this time finding herself in a paper gown and a hospital bed, a heart monitor beeping steadily beside her.

[ficsnroses]

Friends With Benefits Part 2 - Keanu Reeves x Reader

Chapter 2 ~ A Mid Weeks Visit.

Part 1

Word Count : 2834

Warnings : NSFW, Swearing, Unprotected Sex, Use of Plan B. Fluff. 18+ readers.

Summary : What happens when two, lonely friends start seeing and confiding in each other for sex? A tricky friends with benefits love story, when feelings get in the way.

notes : welcome to chapter two! Can’t wait to hear what all you lovely folks think. :)

City nightlife was really something dreamy. The drive to Keanu’s house was equipped with nonchalant gazes at the town that surrounded, filled with beauty to the brim. It was nearing the end of November, signaling the splurge of Christmas cheer in every part of the city. It had been garnished with Christmas trees, seeming as if they erupted from the chalky ground, branches embellished with pretty reds and greens.

Had it not been for the snarl of the car engine, you may have just felt as if floating in a dreamland. Prop designing didn’t pay the best sometimes, and you never had stability with finding work. Attributed to the latter, you had a pretty shitty car. It got you from place to place, serving its ultimate purpose. Keanu hated the fact that you still drove around the rather undesirable piece of machinery, he would tell you to get a new one every time he saw it. Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t afford that. Easy for Mr big shot movie star to say, you often laughed to yourself.

People seemed to get happier, more doused in love during this season. Everywhere your eyes glanced, couples held hands, stealing heartfelt glimpses at each other. It must have been nice to have a person during this time of year. Someone to call your own, someone to make the holiday season merrier.

You realized, you had never spent the holidays with a significant other. Sure, you had a few boyfriends here and there, but no one ever felt special enough to last. Normally for you, “us” seemed to cease to exist nearing the end of the year, leaving just you alone. You were just unlucky in love, you guessed.

Once at the gate, you paused momentarily, parking your car and fixing yourself a little. Keanu and you got to know each other pretty well over the past year and a half. Ever since you started getting intimate, you’d basically memorized each others bodies. You still liked to look good for him though, liked to make him desire you.

Although you had showered and took off your makeup before Keanu texted, you opted to still fix up your hair a little, and apply a light layer of concealer and a nude lipstick. You had also thrown on a lacy black bralette for him to take off of you, you knew he liked it when you wore lace.

You had worn lingerie for Keanu before, but only on special occasions. Usually, this meant birthday sex, when you would go the extra mile to make him feel good. He was a sucker for seeing you in lace, the image of the silky fabric coating the perfect curves of your figure made his mind fog with lust for you, he found himself quite lucky to get to have you to himself in times like that.

Nevertheless, lingerie was still rare in your sex life. It felt a little silly to you. Maybe if you were in a real relationship, you know, like boyfriend and girlfriend, you would wear it more often.

The thought of Keanu and you being more than just sex for each other came across your mind often, more often than you’d like to admit. You wondered how different it would be if you did more things together, confided in each other for more than just sexual intimacy. How it would be if you were…in love.

But you were just friends with benefits, after all. You were both just in it for the sex, to have each other fill the void of intimacy. You couldn’t possibly hope to be something more; it was too late. At the end of the day, you both just needed each other’s bodies to get the deed done, lingerie or not.

•

           “Hey Y/N” Keanu’s deep voice spoke and gave you a small smile, as he opened the door for you. He was in just sweats and his favourite gray Arch t-shirt, his long hair ruffled and messy. His hair was one of your favourite features of him, you loved when he would style it for events out, but you also loved the untamed version he often put on display for you. Not to mention, being on the longer side, his hair was perfect to hold onto and pull as he buried himself deep inside you late into the night.

He put an arm around you, and gave you a quick, small hug as he pulled you inside.

“Hey.” You smiled back, although yours faded much faster. You loved being close to Keanu, and you loved the relief you were able to give to each other. But something inside you had been sparking up recently, feeling almost as if something was wrong. Like you were doing something you didn’t completely want to anymore.

Closing the bulky carved entry door, Keanu crossed his arms, rubbing them up and down, shivering. “It’s freezing, thanks for still coming out though.” He leaned in close to give you a kiss to the side of your head, paired deliciously with a warm smile. Gosh, he was so fucking dreamy.

“Long day?” you asked, padding into his kitchen. Keanu and you were pretty comfortable in each other’s houses by this point, you were there pretty often. On normal, Keanu and you got intimate around half the days of the entire week. Weekend nights were popular, but sometimes one of you needed to burn some steam in the middle of the week as well. Tonight seemed to be one of those nights for Keanu.

“Yeah, lots of training.” Keanu trailed behind you, a very slight limp in his walk. He was an extremely hard worker, and you admired that a ton. You didn’t mind being there for him on days like this where he needed to relax and unwind.

           “You’re getting slow, old man.” You chuckled, bringing a bottle of water you grabbed out of the fridge to your lips.

“Who you callin old man?” Keanu laughed, blowing out the eucalyptus scented candle he had burning on the countertop. “How was your day, hun?” he questioned.

You had a love hate relationship with him calling you affectionate names. It felt…relationshippy? And you weren’t in a relationship. Killed you a little to know he wasn’t saying it the same way a significant other would.

“It was okay, did some work, the usual. Nothing close to training, though.” You smiled, fiddling with the bottle you had now placed on the marble counter top. You walked over, closer to Keanu.

Running a hand up his chest, you kissed the side of his jawline. He quickly placed his hands on your hips. With your arms secured around his neck, you proposed. “Lemme help you?”

“Please.” Keanu breathed, and you felt an erection growing, bulging at your mid as you connected your lips with his.

Keanu took your hand in his, and walked you up to his bedroom. Closing the door, and switching the lights off, he watched as you adjusted yourself on his bed, and pulled your shirt off, tossing it to the floor.

Keanu exhaled, palming his bulge. “You look really pretty today.”

“Come, baby.” You reached out for him, as he unbuckled his belt, tossing it in proximity to your shirt. He climbed under the covers, and tried to get on top of you. You held your hand to his chest however, stopping him. “Let me top tonight, you’re tired.” You stated, rolling him over to straddle.

“Gladly” he smirked. He leaned up to place a few lingering, wet kisses to your breasts, still covered with the lace bra. “This looks great on you, by the way.” He wearily exhaled. You always managed to turn him on to the point where his breath shook.

“Take it off” you told him, kissing up and down his neck, running your hands over his chest. He reached behind to unclasp the bra on display over your modesty. He moaned slightly at the sight of your bare chest. “Beautiful.” he whispered, causing your own core to drench for him. You had learned over time; Keanu was more of a boobs than ass type of guy. He would often bury his face into your chest when you hugged him, or while he was on top during sex.

Keanu reached his arm over to the bedside table where he kept condoms. You both always kept at least one box in both of your bedside tables, at both of your respective houses. The first time you ever had sex that night a year before, Keanu resorted to coming in his hand, and you both had a good laugh over that the first time you discussed it. You made sure to keep protection at hand after that.

“No,” You grabbed his arm. He shot you a questioning look. “I wanna try something different today, I want to feel all of you.” You quietly said, looking him straight in the eyes.

“Are you sure, Y/N?” he asked, confused at your sudden change of mind. You always made sure you used protection, you would hate to fall pregnant. You did want children eventually, but not like this. Not with your “fuck buddy”.

“Trust me.” You kissed his lips again, lacing your hand with his. With your free hand, you cover your palm with a bit of spit, and reach down to pump him a few times, lining him up with your entrance.

Sinking onto him, you sighed in releif. It burns at first, every single time. Keanu is big, and it always takes a few seconds to adjust. It burns, but it feels so incredibly good. He’s really a treat.

Keanu’s hands are on your hips, as he helps bounce you up and down. He’s a master of pace, and alternates between slow and fast thrusts. He rolls his eyes back, muttering a few inaudible words above his breath.

“Is it good?” you ask, head titled back, seeing star like dots as you close your eyes.

“So good. The best.” You hear him reply.

Spreading your legs further apart, you allow him to go deeper, digging nails into his chest as you bring your forehead to connect with his. You can hear the slickness of your core as he slides in and out.

“Gosh, you’re so good to me.” Keanu moans, briefly moistening his thumb before bringing it down to rub your clit.

Not wanting you to do all the work, Keanu gently nudged you to roll off as he rolls on top of you, immediately sliding into you again. He tries to go slow at first, wanting you both to last as long as possible. Unable to control, he started moving in quick, pounding thrusts.

“Where do you want it, hun?” he asks, nearing his release.

“Inside.” You couldn’t believe what you were saying, but the pleasure was so good in that moment, and you wanted to feel him even closer. You wanted to be more intimate in that moment than you already were, you wanted to feel him deep inside.

“Are you sure, Y/N?” he pumped into faster and faster now, but unable to control or stop himself from the immense pleasure that was engulfing his body.

When Keanu and you were intimate, he always had a signature look you were able to indulge in. His sparse eyebrows would furrow together, his lips slightly parting as he let out small moans of satisfaction. Every now and then, he would close his eyes shut and lean his head back, his long, charcoal hair falling into his face.

“Yeah, go baby.” You hushed, clawing your nails into his biceps, holding onto him.

He brings you into your climax, and you moan loud. The release lasted longer than normal, the sex was better than usual tonight. Hearing your moan brought him over the edge as well, and you felt a sudden burst of warmth deep inside you, and his cock twitch between your walls as he moaned your name multiple times.

“Oh YN. Fuck.” He half gasps, half moans as you feel him relax his tensed muscles, and bury his face in the crook of your neck. He’s still buried inside you, as he tries to catch his breath. You both stay like that for a few moments, your hands trailing up and down his back, soothing him.

“That was new…” Keanu says as he lifts his head, taking in your features now. Your forehead was visibly sweaty, and a few stray hairs clung to your face.

“Was it okay?” you question, propping yourself up a little on your elbows, slightly scared he didn’t like it as much as usual.

“It was amazing, Y/N. You’re always amazing. But…” he glances down between you two at his cock still inside you. He came inside you, without protection.

“I can grab some plan B tomorrow.” You say, cupping his cheek.

“Spend the night, and I’ll come with you in the morning, then?” he asked lightly. You felt butterflies inside your stomach at his genuine care for you. You had never spent the night at his house before, however. Usually, he asked, but you insisted. You never wanted to intrude.

With a ponder, you replied. “Yeah, sure. That would be great.” Smiling at him, you both locked eyes. You two were having…a moment? It was different than usual.

Rolling off and out of you, Keanu grabbed a towel from the beside to wipe himself off first, and then you, including whatever he felt behind. You pulled the off white covers over your bare chest, watching him pull on some sweatpants.

“I can take the guest room.” You said quietly, looking down, feeling slightly uncomfortable. You hoped he was doing this because he genuinely wanted to, and not because he felt like he needed to.

He glanced at you, and gave a questioning look. “Are you insane? Stop being silly, Y/N. We’ve been in this bed together many times. You can sleep right here, beside me.” Keanu’s eyes widened suddenly. “Oh god, I’m sorry Y/N. Of course, only if you want to. You don’t have to, you can take the guest room if you think its weird. I’m sorry,” he rambled, running his thick fingers through his hair.

“No, Keanu. It’s fine. I can sleep here.” You smiled.

“Great! Do you want to take a shower, or anything? I can grab you a spare shirt to sleep in.” he spoke as he walked to his closet, grabbing a shirt for you. “Do you need anything before bed? A cup of tea maybe, some water?” he questioned, back still turned to you.

“I’m okay. Thank you, though.” You said, smiling to yourself. He was so caring.

After a quick trip to the washroom, and a splash of water to your face to wash away the sweat and makeup, you walked back into Keanu’s bedroom and found him waiting in bed for you. He was browsing his phone, positioned upright on the right side of the bed.

“Hey, you. Thought I’d give you the better side. You deserve it tonight.” He chuckled, patting the spot beside him.

“Thanks.” You replied, getting under the covers.

“I don’t think I snore at night, but I guess you can be the judge of that.” He said, placing his phone down on the nightstand.

“As long as it’s not as loud as your grunting in bed, I think we’re okay.” You laughed.

Keanu gasped in a playful way, as if he was offended. You smiled back. “I’m kidding, I love it.” You say.

Keanu felt his lips curl into a real, genuine smile. He loved how comfortable you were with him, and how your relationship wasn’t something weird or closed off. He felt that you actually enjoyed his company, and he really enjoyed yours. Most of the time, he felt like you were his closest friend. But things were kind of complicated between you two with the sex. It almost felt like it was stopping you from ever being more. Why would a girl like you want to be more with her friends with benefits, he often thought? When he found himself thinking about what you could have been, had sexual intimacy not got in the way, he found himself kind of regretful. An ode to what could have been.

But he tried to just shake the thoughts away. He didn’t want to think about you both as something more; you were content with your relationship, and that was okay with him. He loved that he could make you feel good, and still be a friend in your life. You were both fine as you were.

“Should we crash? Its kind late.” You asked, pulling the covers higher.

“Absolutely.” He replied, laying down as well now. Turning the bedside lamp off he spoke “goodnight, Y/N. Thanks for tonight.”

“Night, Keanu.” You rubbed his arm lightly, before turning your back to him, pulling the covers closer and closing your eyes. Keanu stayed facing your way however. You both kept a distance of around half a foot from each other, being sure not to invade the others space. You weren’t boyfriend girlfriend, after all. You were just two people, sharing a bed. Who also have sex occasionally. And are friends. Unfortunately, just friends. 

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 >>Chapter 3 >>

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