#the way Jane learns to let someone take control and care for him

[wikipedie]

Jane and Lisbon are like, a very interesting pairing. They are destined to the other, romantically or not, and no one can tell me otherwise. They both don't do the whole letting people in for the fear of getting hurt, they both play a role that is constantly used to keep people from seeing the vulnerable parts of them, Jane is the funny, arrogant, annoying man that is bigger than the whole world, and Lisbon is the one in command, the boss. She's untouchable in other ways when compared to Jane, and that's the thing, they both are untouchable in different ways.

(this is barely understandable, sorry. I am a bit queasy too but I am in bed)

Nono it is understandable, don't worry. I have finally reached my bed too so we can both be queasy in bed.

They are very fascinating, for a various of reasons. I personally don't know if I believe in destined, but they are, indeed, one of the most beautiful couples out there, with all of their dysfunctionality. And perhaps because of it. (And there's something to be said about the fact that they almost didn't. Teresa almost went with Marcus.)

One of the saddest Things is that. Their meeting is built on tragedy. If Angela hadn't died, if Red John hadn't existed, they wouldn't have met - most likely. (What about a story where Special Agent Teresa Lisbon has to catch notorious criminal Patrick Jane? That would be so intriguing. Maybe I'll write it someday*adds it to the mountain of TM ideas I've got*)

But you're so right, they're both untouchable in different ways and that's why it's so hard for both of them to admit they've got feelings for each other. It's hard to reach out when you've got walls around yourself. And that's why it's so magnificent when they learn to touch each other.

[doeshrine]

Any general headcanons for doe; romantic or just regular guy stuff :]

You guys really wanna know MORE!? AHH I have had no one to talk about my beloved Doe with AH! Sorry sorry! I'm done gushing! Genuinely just happy to talk about them.

TW: YANDERE RELATED TOPICS

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John Doe absolutely goes by he/they pronouns. No ya'll can't take this from me.

Even in their female form which is often referred to as "Jane Doe", I feel like that would just piss them off. I think just bc he changes his presentation doesn't mean you get to misgender them. I think despite presentation changes he'd still be himself and still go by John Doe.

So Regular Guys are pretty much pests in the Uncanny Valley. John Doe's eyes are kinda of explained in House Hunted 2 that he has to physically split his eye in half so he blends in. Personally, I think that's got to be uncomfortable all the time, so at home he does go from two eyes to one eye since he feels comfortable about it.

Many would think he's controlling which I think he can be occasionally, but not on purpose. Due to some of the things he has been through all alone, I think he views himself being controlling as protecting you, and while yeah he's a whole yandere I think he's more than willing to hear you out on making him comfortable while also accommodating your- freewill lol.

He hisses at people.

He stares at you when you sleep. There is no way ya'll convince me otherwise.

He doesn't require sleep but understands that you prefer to snuggle in bed with him at night.

He hates any of your plushies. He thinks if you hug them, you like them more than him- but he won't throw them away. He likes how soft they are.

He stutters a lot when trying to explain his feelings to you. He isn't used to people viewing him as a person over a pest.

Despite being a yandere, he is oddly good at communication if you teach him what it is and how to understand boundaries. He's going to slip up and you gotta understand that when going into the relationship.

He just orders takeout a lot. I have a weird headcanon that Regular Guys can make things from thin air so when he orders food he hands them money he just conjures. ((This man accidentally inflates the economy one eldritch magic dollar at a time.))

When he gets all hyper-realistic, he doesn't acknowledge it as "scary" to him he's sort of blind to it happening. While yes he is physically doing it, he doesn't see it so he just- kinda thinks you're being mean to him if you freak out. I think he's a visual learner so cues such as covering your eyes help him understand you're just uncomfortable, but don't love him any less.

He lets you pet his hair and despite the curls it never knots or tangles. Like it never knots up.

He isn't good with animals. Except crows love him. He likes crows.

He does try to clutter your home- and uh that's gonna require you explaining to him that humans need clean spaces to live.

Did I mention he's jealous? However, he can be really subtle about it. He just glares or waits till you turn to go hyper-realistic on someone.

He has an existential crisis in one breath, but in the next will ask you to pass the popcorn. (he is unwell)

For my FNAF bitches, he would listen to your info dump about the FNAF lore any day of the week. Any kind of hyperfixation or special interest of yours he will listen to you talk about it. He can keep up with however you talk and will never ask you to speed up slow down or stop talking. He just likes you.

He can help with chores, water CANNOT be involved.

In his Lil' Doe form (I HAVE DIBS ON THE NICKNAME >XP), he takes dust baths, but because he isn't human he doesn't have to take traditional showers. He can't too or his form does break down so please take care of him.

Despite him hating you taking showers, he learns to accept it due to the fact you explain it is a health thing. He realizes a human being is much more complex than a Regular Guy physically and requires more care than a dust bath.

He makes sure you eat. If you don't eat he becomes paranoid you will die.

Has he killed people for you? Yep.

Kinda running out of thoughts!

[jenyifer]

The Trainee Ep 2 initial reaction

Slight disclaimer I did watch the episode 1/4 3/4 because YouTube is a cruel mistress and I’m dumb lmao. But I assume if anyone has seen my watching series you’d know I don’t really offer much of intellect anyways sooooo

Let’s get on to the photo review

Quick note here Ryan is a lot more relatable believable character to me in comparison to Chef Prem? I think it’s good writing and set in these scenes with Ryan at his dad’s shop really do a lot to establish who he is as a person. We can see his family circle is hard working and maybe isn’t the best with their feelings. We still see Ryan’s family does take care of each other in important ways and understands to some extent. Also very relatable to be a recent grad with no direction or going to university without passion because you know your family needs you. Idk I like Ryan. He’s not quirky for quirky sake. He’s believably broken in predictable ways.

Ugh couples are the worst. Also performative gestures like this are so stupid now you might say it’s comedy. However I’ve enjoyed a couple office romance interns edition and it’s ways sickening. Just like highschool sweethearts that kind of sweet where they are blind or trying to make others jealous because of their own inadequacies with themselves

I’ll say this it is good for new members of staff to learn to speak their mind quickly because if they don’t contribute you are missing out on new ideas and eyes. Also Jane/Off is so handsome my brain would definitely malfunction. A person in control who knows what he wants 🥵 sexy. Also Off’s irration just scratches a good itch in my brain makes me think of Sean 😩😩

A very important bonding activity converting the non nerds to the joys of Harry Potter and other pop culture. A dance as old as time. My older coworkers try to get everyone to watch their pop culture references too. It’s really an unspoken office life normality. I really wasn’t expecting so many references though. But I still love Harry Potter because idk I see the good parts of the story and adore it. Yes yes I can now see the racism and the transphobia (the dream of Malfoy’s cronies turning into girls) also preachiness about sexism when needed. But I also see the fandom that raised me. The various queer friends I met because of my love of the boy who lived. Something I won’t have had in Mississippi. The books that always comforted me since I was 6 years old quoting the first book. the theme parks that still take my breath away when I go to visit Universal Orlando on the weekends. The queer and loving people who work there and are all too happy to make a child’s dream come true or adult look in wonder at something they have missed. (Sorry for the tangent)

Oh no it’s Gun’s arguably greatest talent crying in character. I felt like I could feel the fear and panic building in Ryan to this point which… if you aren’t crying in the first several days at your big kid job because you feel like an imposter who can’t do shit and will never be trusted? I can’t relate to you. Hell I got a new job a couple months ago. For a month I cried most days when I got home because I felt so awful about my capabilities even though I’ve worked 7 years in my field. It’s normal. Also Jane being shocked by this is hilarious you aren’t telling me he hasn’t broken someone down into tears before.

Oh no here it is folks Jane just enjoying Ryan’s energy and believing in him for no reason. Gun’s tears are very potent and can melt any wall I’m surprised Jane isn’t pulling him in for hugs.

Jane trying his best to keep Ryan without directly forcing him to stay was masterful as a boss. As a Simp it could use work but it’s a start put the ball in Ryan’s court with hope. Jane wants Ryan to grow and experience life which is good as a boss.

Awwwwwwwwww happy gunnie/ryan he’s so tired and anxious now he’s found solace in Jane’s words nothing can bring him down. He’s precious someone put him in my pocket.

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

What is their go-to drink order?

First of, let's assume everyone is of legal drinking age, whatever that might be.

It's sixteen. If Ben can be a High King at sixteen, he can bloody well drink. I'm not taking criticism on that one.

Unsurprisingly though, Ben has never had as much as a champagne.

And Jane is stuck drinking kiddie fake-champagnes well into her twenties.

Now Audrey? Oh well. Her favourite is rosè, champagne, Skinny Bitch (vodka & soda) and Pink Gin & Tonic. If you pick an aesthetic, you bloody commit to it.

If she's doing shots with the pirates, she gets vodka, because Audrey post Queen of Mean is that bitch and fears no god. She could also do silver tequila.

Chad can't hold his liquor. He just can't. He has one (1) cider//Frisko and is crying. Audrey is suffering.

Anthony Tremaine gets some fancy brandy or whiskey on rocks. Again, Aesthetic, duh. Once he got this for Ginny Gothel and died a little inside when she declared that it doesn't taste any good and proceeded to pour Cola into it. Guess who learned to never ever do this the hard way.

Harriet Hook. Uuh. She has Problems. We know that, right?

On the Isle, she usually drinks Energy drinks with vodka, because she needs to stay awake, duh. Also rum, 'cos pirates, and red wine, 'cos Aesthetic.

If it's before noon, she gets a Mimosa, so she can feel fancy. Also espresso with vodka. Gin & Tonic.

Basically, you name it, chances are Harriet Hook has drunk it at least once.

She'd just like to forget and not feel, savvy??

Harry prefers rum and dislikes wine. He just has the vibes. Unless it's mulled wine which smells way better.

Uma also orders rum. She, however, really likes Pina Colada, but she won't order it herself, (because tough pirate Captain can't enjoy sugary long drinks, duh).

Don't worry though, Gil gets it for her every time he is getting them drinks.

Uma also doesn't pay for her own drinks, like, ever.

Gil likes ciders the best, even over beer, for which his father and brothers ridicule him. He doesn't care, though. He will also do shots of rum with the rest of the pirates.

CJ doesn't drink.

She has seen her family's hungovers and decided she is not doing thaz, thank you. She also dislikes the idea of losing the already poor control over her mind any more. It might not look like it, but CJ is a bit of a control freak.

Freddie Facilier drinks only when someone buys the drink for her. In which case, she'd choose a Chupito, a sweet shot with rum, lime liquor and cocktail cherry.

Celia Facilier doesn't drink and good for her.

Dizzy Tremaine is not allowed to drink. She doesn't particularly wish to, though.

Ginny Gothel mostly drinks wine, and if there is more fancy option available, she'll get Calvados (fancy apple liquor. It's good.) She is also not opposed to drinking Harriet's Red Bull with vodka though.

Claudine Frollo (once adopted by the Hooks). She also has problems, which, in this case, manifests as getting her drinks as vile as possible.

Campari Orange, as bitter as her soul. She can also pass it for an orange juice if she wanted. She's a hypocrite. (Campari Orange is legit good though). On similar note, Skinny Bitch, without the lime. She will do shots of pure vodka and drink Slammed-Tequila (shot of Tequila & shot of Sprite & ice), which is the most vile substance I have ever tasted. It feels like kerosene.

...Mal can't drink. I'm not taking criticism on that.

Evie and Carlos can do shots of pure vodka. Evie likes champagne more, though. She also has a vendetta against red wine, which was her mother's drink of choice, because it looks like blood, duh. Oh, and Aperol Spritz! (She and Audrey should be allowed to gossip and/or plan murder over a glass of Aperol. Ginny too. They'd vibe.)

Technically, Jay and Jade aren't allowed to drink for their own safety. Not because they'd drink too much, but because they insist on taking their usual Anything-but-the-pavement route no matter what.

One time, after some shots of Tequila, they convinced Audrey to go with them. She almost broke her neck, which might be because she refused to take off her high heels.

[hazel-of-sodor]

Day 22-Succession

Traintober 2023

Other Stories

Day 22-Top Hatt

Succession

Autumn 2016

Edward simmered lazily outside Tidmouth Station, the crisp autumn air swirling around his boiler and down to his wheels pleasantly. He stretched slightly, sighing. His valve gear had to started to have minor aches lately, signaling that he wasn't far from an overhaul.

Finally, the back door to the Controller's Office opened and she stepped out.

Jane Hatt II, the newest Fat Controller, cut a striking figure in the traditional 3 piece suit and top hat. She had exchanged the black tie for one in North Western Blue with red lining. Rather than black, her pants and overjacket were a very deep blue, her undershirt a light purple in honor of her grandfather.

"You look splendid Ms.Hatt!" Edward said with feeling.

Jane shrugged, "It feels like I'm playing dress up." She said.

Edward chuckled, "Your father said much the same thing, and your grandfather too. I think that's why Charles chose purple instead of yellow, the difference made it feel more real to him."

"Rather than just playing at being his father." Jane guessed. 

"Exactly." 

"What was he like? The first I mean."

Edward blinked, "Topham?"

"Yes, Dad and Grandpa have told me about him but..." She hesitated.

"You wanna know from one of his engines, not his children."

"Yes."

Edward considered the question carefully, I'm honestly not sure there is all that much of a difference in later years honestly."

He looked at Jane seriously, "He was a serious but passionate man. He cared for us deeply, even early on, but...it was a very different time. Men were expected to be stronger, harsher...He had to learn how to be a controller, and he sometimes got it wrong in the early years."

"The tunnel incident."

Edward snorted, "Remind me to tell you what actually happened with all that when we have time. Topham was fair most of the time but had quite the temper when wronged.  He learned to control it in later years, but by then he had his reputation."

Edward paused, "I think the clearest image I can give you of his later years was the last time I saw him. He was taking your namesake for a picnic, and had come to talk to me while waiting for their trains." Edward closed his eyes, remembering, "He'd been having health problems for months but refused to let them slow him down...they finally caught up with him."

Edward took a deep breath, "He asked me to look after Charles, to help him as controller. He wasn't worried about himself, he was worried about his son having someone to turn to as Controller."

He looked at Jane seriously, "I have kept that promise to him ever since, from Charles to Stephen, and now to you."

He smiled suddenly, "He would have loved you, you know. You would have reminded him of Jane, who he always said was his better half. He often looked back at his early years as a controller far too harshly. He got us through the 20s and 30s, with all of us intact. No other controller could say that."

"So he would be okay with me being controller instead of Richard?"

Edward snorted, "He would be relieved. He'd have loved Richard too, but he reminds me of a young Thomas in all the wrong ways." he chuckled. 

"He would have been very proud of you, and proud of your brother for realizing you were the better fit."

Jane snorted, "If only the news agreed.,

"Just ignore them." Edward advised, "It's what he did."

She patted his buffer beam, "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Edward."

"Any time Ms. Hatt."

The fourth Fat Controller turned and walked towards the platform and her first day running the North Western Railway, collecting her Top Hatt from her office as she did so.

Edward happily closed his eyes and began to doze before his next train, confident they were in good hands.

[fandom-nursery]

Carlos agere headcanons

Regresses to around 2-4 years old 

He started regressing pretty young while he was still living on the Isle but he hid it from everyone out of fear of what would be done to him if anyone found out 

He tends to run off and hide somewhere when he feels himself start to slip even after he is in Auradon and has people who he can trust to take care of him 

Little Carlos wants very badly to feel safe and loved but is also incredibly anxious 

It takes a long time for him to trust new people and he generally prefers to stay in his room while regressed and only be around the other VKs, Ben, and later Jane

Carlos tends to get pretty quiet while little (and has on several occasions gone totally nonverbal) unless he gets super excited about something in which case he starts talking a mile a minute 

Very easily startled by sudden movements and loud noises 

It took a very long time for Carlos to feel safe enough to nap while regressed but once he does he starts falling asleep the second he’s put in bed 

He loves bathtime! On the Isle things like warm water, bubbles, and bath toys were completely foreign concepts and now that he has access to them he can’t get enough 

He is a lego kid. And a block kid. Really anything where he gets to build he loves

One of his favorite things to do while little is play fetch with dude 

He loves sweets but the other VK’s learned the hard way not to give him too many or he will get a sugar high and become crazy hyper 

He is a messy eater and always needs someone to wipe down his face and hands after meals/snacks 

Evie designed him a little black and white stuffed dog out of fabric scraps that he carries with him everywhere and is incredibly attached to. He got so upset when Evie tried to take it from him so she could wash it once that his crying prompted Mal to create a laundry spell on the spot so they could clean it without taking it away from him 

Evie designed him all sorts of comfortable clothing to wear while he’s little. His favorite outfits are the ones with a lot of pockets so he can carry little trinkets and snacks around with him 

Carlos has a paci on him at all times. If it’s not in his mouth its in one of his pockets 

He does occasionally wear diapers while little. Usually Evie or Jay will ask him if he wants them when he first starts regressing and depending on his answer either change him into them or leave him be 

After their quest for the dragon eye when the four of them all became friends Carlos told them about his regression (although at the time he didn’t have a word for it exactly he just knew that sometimes he felt small). He figured it was only a matter of time before he accidentally regressed in front of them and he wanted to be in control of how they found out 

Ben found Carlos regressed during the first week or so of him being at Auradon prep. Carlos was terrified about being found out and immediately went into a panic. Ben stayed calm and helped comfort him, eventually managing to calm him enough to convince Carlos to let him lead the little back to the dorms where Jay took over. It was one of the things that really helped Carlos start to feel safe in Auradon 

When Carlos started to get close with Jane he told her but she isn’t super confident in her ability to care for him when he's little so she usually isn't around when he regresses 

Evie and Jay are his primary caregivers. Mal does her best but being nurturing with children just doesn’t really come naturally to her so she’s typically more like a fun older sister. Ben also tries his best to be a caregiver and for the most part is however, he didn't grow up on the isle and there are just some parts of Carlos and his regression that Ben will never fully be able to understand because of this. 

Because he doesn’t associate the title of mom or dad with safety, love or care he doesn’t use them when addressing his caregivers and just tends to use their names

[silksandcravats]

All Tied Up - Viscount!Kylo

Once again I find myself taking my sweet time with the backstory kylo piece so in its place please accept another piece of viscount!kylo smut <3

Lady Ren stumbles across a rather indecent piece of literature which leads to her taken certain sexual liberties with her husband OR reader insert ties Kylo to the bed.

masterlist

Warnings/contents: fem!reader, bondage, PIV sex, unprotected sex, regency era, reader still has limited sexual knowledge, historical inaccuracies probably

You fidgeted with the ribbons in your hand, turning them over and over again. Blue felt like as good a colour as any to use. It was a wicked idea, surely not one that might be expected from a gently bred lady such as yourself. But then, the idea wasn’t originally yours, that terribly indecent book was to blame. And it’s not like you sought the book out! You had only been seeking out the newest Jane Austen novel, which had the town abuzz (though the opinion of the female author herself was rather mixed). 

You, unfortunately, had been rather late to hearing about the work, meaning there was not a copy to be spared in all of Mayfair. Not to be deterred, you had linked arms with your ladies maid, and bribed one of your coachmen a whole two pounds to take you into the city. (The act of bribery had become necessary after the man expressed concern that the Viscount might not approve of your excursion, he was right of course but you were not easily dissuaded.)

Whilst scouring the shelves of that London bookshelf, you noticed a book at the end of the row had been turned down so the spine was hidden and pushed back slightly as if someone had been trying to hide it. Upon further inspection you found the title to be, “The art of Basketweaving”. 

How curious, you thought to yourself, turning the book over in your hands. Why would anyone have need to hide this? 

It took only a brief look inside for you to realise the book had nothing to do with baskets at all. Your cheeks grew very hot and you slammed the book shut, not wanting to be caught reading it, at least not here. And so in the end you returned to Mayfair with a very different sort of book.

Which lead you up to now, sitting in your bedchambers, awaiting your husband who should return from parliament any time now. You turned the book open to study the position once more. It was the most devious, most erotic drawing you had ever seen. The way the man’s wrists had been crossed over and snuggly tied to the bedpost, the way the woman on top appeared to be lowering herself onto him, you had to admit you hadn’t even known it was possible!

You slammed the book quickly when you heard approaching footsteps you knew belonged to your husband. You hid the book in the top drawer of your writing desk, beneath loose stationery, and pushed the door shut.

The Viscount used your first name to greet you, coming into the room just as you tossed the ribbons onto the bed.

“Hello darling,” you smiled turning to face him. You felt slightly nauseous as you watched his eyes flicker briefly to the ribbon on the bed. You made yourself take a deep breath as he turned back to you, trying to force your nerves to calm, he didn’t know what you were up to, he couldn’t.

“I did not expect to find you here at this time of day,” he spoke walking towards you. You hated when he looked at you this way - like he already knew all of your secrets, but you knew you couldn’t look away, that would be as good as branding yourself with the word “guilty”.

“I was hoping we might enjoy each other’s company for a while, before dinner,” you did your best to sound innocent, snaking your arms around his neck.

“Is that so?” He queried, his hands coming down to grasp your waist.

“Yes,” you breathed, tipping your face up to meet his. He kissed you briefly, before pulling back.

“And what might be the occasion?” 

“No occasion,” you shook your head, tugging slightly at his cravat. He hummed thoughtfully but didn’t reply, allowing you to pull the material free. You knew he was suspicious, but he didn’t push, allowing you to pull through his layers. His hands roamed you, undressing you at a much slower pace than you were him. And so when you finished you splayed your hands across his chest, and leaned forward, kissing slowly up his torso. 

“You’re very eager,” he noted, finally removing your drawers.

“Is such a sin to want one’s husband?” You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping to replace his curiosity with lust.

“Not at all,” He smirked, pulling your now naked form closer to him and kissing you again. You knew you had to be careful here, one wrong move and you would end up below him, and then you might as well forget your plans. You let your hands roam him a moment longer and slowly, slowly backed him up to the bed and then-

“I know you left Mayfair today,” He broke away, speaking down to you. Your brows furrowed.

“How did you-”

“I gave him five pounds.” 

He then took you by surprise, dropped back on the bed, and pulling you along on top of him. This was good, now he was right where you wanted him. 

“Five?” You gasped, trying to linger on the topic of staff rather than your unauthorised outing. “We shall be out a coachman when he runs off with his new fortune.” 

His fingertips grazed the flesh of your hips, tracing your skin, his touch was sinful but you couldn’t allow yourself to bask in it now, you needed his hands higher up. Your situation was still quite precarious after all, he might flip you onto your back at any moment.

“I don’t know what was more foolish, you leaving Mayfair or thinking I wouldn’t know,” he admonished. You grasped his hands, feeling pleased when he cooperated, and dragged them up slowly.

“I did bring Daisy along,” you pointed out, frowning innocently.

“I’m beginning to believe I allow you too many liberties, perhaps I ought to take you in hand,” He spoke suggestively, the meaning of his words not lost on you. His eyes were darkening, you were running out of time, if you were going to act it had to be now.

“Actually,” you leaned in.

All at once, you took over. In a speed even you hadn’t known you possessed, you snatched up your hair ribbons, which were already within arms reach, and shoved his wrists against the headboard, tossing one over the other and tied them to the spot, quickly and firmly. You prayed it was tight enough.

“I should like to take a few more liberties before the day is through,” your lips ghosted over his, your stomach lurched at the boldness of your actions but you held your composure.

“You devilish woman,” he pulled his head back from you, leaning against the pillow to look up at your handiwork. He survived the bonds for a moment but made no effort to yank free, instead he sighed.

“That was very clever of you darling,” he admitted, turning his gaze from his hands to meet you again. “But what do you plan to do now that you have me?”

“A great many things I should think,” you spoke boldly. You reached down and grasped his length, first loosely, then you tightened a bit, give him a few teasing strokes. You watched proudly as his already partially hard cock grew firmer in your grip, fully standing at attention now. Still in the first bloom of marriage, you hadn’t mastered his body yet. You were still learning the best ways to touch and tease. 

A few drops were beginning to collect at his tip so you swiped your thumb along his slit, collecting the moisture, the contact making him hiss. And then, feeling incredibly vulgar, you lifted your thumb to your mouth and licking slowly. Kylo let out a shameless moan in response, watching you with great interest. This was going very well indeed.

“And where might my sweet little wife get such a wicked idea from?” He quirked a brow, watching your hand work him. Even now, bound to the bed he looked calm and collected, and perhaps even somehow still in control. In fact, he looked almost as if he was lying in the garden of your country home, basking in the summer sun. 

You didn’t answer. He was fully and entirely erect now and so you pulled away, leaning up on his thighs and looking down at him with determination. Your hand slipped between your legs and you touched yourself, pushing two fingers inside of yourself and moving them in a sort of scissoring motion the way Kylo always did before he took you. It wasn’t the same of course, your fingers were smaller and you couldn’t work yourself open the same way, but you did your best given your position. 

“If you need help wife, you need but ask,” he chimed, watching you touch yourself. His demeanour was still collected but there was a hunger in his eyes, clearly you weren’t the only one who wished it was his fingers plunged inside of you.

“That’s quite alright husband,” you shook your head, pulling your fingers away and moving above him. You grasped him again aligning himself to your opening and taking a deep breath.

“Go ahead, darling.”

Perhaps he was asking you to hurry along because he was eager, but it was also possible his words were encouraging, and you couldn’t have him thinking you were nervous, so you briskly lowered yourself all the way down, filling yourself to the brim. You both moaned loudly at your action. 

You hadn’t been able to open yourself up as well as he does, so the stretch of him burned more deeply than you were used to causing you to wince. Being on top you knew you had all the time you would like to adjust, but you couldn’t give your husband the satisfaction of knowing how affected you were.

And so you adjusted slightly and, -consequential soreness be damned- you began rocking yourself on top of him, up and down. The third time you moved you went too far and he slipped out of you. You nearly cursed but instead you simply repositioned and tried again. 

It took you a few tries to set a rhythm, and Kylo, knowing when and when to not tease his wife, kept his amusement to himself as best he could while you gathered your bearings. Finally, you slipped into a fluid pattern, bouncing on top of him rather pleasantly.

Whenever Kylo bedded you, he fully sheathed himself with every single thrust, knocking against something deep inside of you, and he couldn’t help but notice that now that it was your turn you made sure to never drop all the way down. Not because you didn’t enjoy the feeling, he knew you liked it quite a bit, but rather he realised it was too intense for you to subject yourself to. 

It felt wonderful to have him this way, but it was taking quite a bit of energy to maintain your pace and you were beginning to develop a newfound sense of respect that he was able to ravish you so frequently and for so long. You knew you’d be able to finish this way, and you were fairly sure he could too, and so you willed yourself to carry on. It wasn’t until you begin to pant softly that Kylo couldn’t resist speaking up.

“You seem to be overexerting yourself, dear, shall I take over for you?” He cooed, his voice sweet and heavy like honey. It was a tempting proposition, to roll over and let him have you, but you finally held power in your grasps, and who knows when you might have it again?

“N-no,” you shook your head violently, picking up the speed even though your muscles were screaming, begging you to stop.

“Very well, come here then,” he nodded once, urging you toward him. You complied, sliding your hands further up his chest and leaning down to kiss him. Once he had your mouth on him he began to move beneath you, rocking up in time with you so that the next time you came down he slid farther inside of you knocking against your cervix making you screech his name, and then he did it again, and again.

“Touch yourself for me,” he groaned against your mouth. And so you did without thinking, having to shift in the process so you could reach, which only allowed him to further space to thrust up into you. You couldn’t believe it, he was topping from the bottom? 

“Oh Kylo!” you exclaim, jolting when your fingers found your own little bud.

“That’s it darling,” he groaned, his own composure beginning to cripple, “come with me.” Your chest tightened, your rocking had grown sloppy and he was doing the bulk on the work now, he pushed up into you once, twice more and then your world shattered. Your eyes squeezed shut and your head tilted back, your mouth falling ajar. You felt him finish inside of you, gushing around your walls. 

You were breathing heavily, even after the effects of your release had faded, feeling utterly and completely exhausted.

“That was excellent my love,” he spoke, and before you had the chance to free him, he tugged away from the bonds all on his own. The ribbons fell to the bed and you realised he had merely been allowing you to believe you had him subdued. He leaned up to wrap his arms around you, pulling you down to the bed. In instant, you were lying on your back and he on his side, holding you tenderly and wrapping you up in sheets. 

“But in the future, I should think it better suited if you were the one in bondage, dear wife.” He dropped a swift kiss on your cheek. “And we will be having a discussion later about your little trip.”

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[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 10

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

From: dscully@fbi.gov

Sent: April 28, 1997 10:46am

To: mreyes@fbi.gov

Subject: Coffee?

Hi Monica,

It’s Dana, from pathology. I was wondering if you’d like to get coffee tomorrow around lunchtime? I have a break in classes from 11-2, so anywhere in there would be fine.

I hope things are going well with VICAP.

-Dana

From: dscully@fbi.gov

Sent: April 28, 1997 10:48am

To: fmulder@fbi.gov

Subject: Wednesday/Thursday

Hi,

I’m mildly shocked that you hadn’t already emailed me before I got in today. Are you alive?

If you’d like to meet up for lunch or coffee this week, I can do Wednesday or Thursday, sometime in the 11-3 timeframe. Let me know which works for you and I’ll block the time out so nothing else ends up on my schedule.

From: mreyes@fbi.gov

Sent: April 28, 1997 11:12am

To: dscully@fbi.gov

Subject: RE:Coffee?

Hi Dana,

I’m so glad you reached out. I’d love to get coffee tomorrow; I can meet you just outside the autopsy bay at 1pm, if that works?

I look forward to it.

-Monica

From: fmulder@fbi.gov

Sent: April 28th, 1997 12:16pm

To: dscully@fbi.gov

Subject: RE:Wednesday/Thursday

Hi Scully,

I see that my exceptional self control has paid off in spades. I am alive, and have resisted emailing you this morning through a combination of sheer will and a two-hour budget meeting.

Wednesday sounds perfect, I’ll be there at noon. Don’t ask me how many hours that is from now because I haven’t calculated it and I have no idea.

———

About an hour after returning from her coffee date with Monica, which was very pleasant and is something she hopes to repeat, she starts to feel just a little bit achy. She pushes through the rest of her work for the day and by the time she slumps through her apartment door at six, there’s no denying that she’s sick. She takes some Tylenol and goes to bed, hoping it will have passed in the morning, but when she wakes up it’s even worse. She calls in sick to work and goes back to sleep.

When she wakes again, the phone is ringing. She ignores it, only for it to start ringing again the moment the machine picks up. Dragging herself out of bed with a pained moan, she trudges to the hallway, retrieving the cordless phone and walking back to her bedroom as she answers.

“Hello?”

“Scully! Are you okay?”

“What? Yes. Mulder?” She burrows herself back under the covers with the phone tucked against her ear.

“Yes, it’s me, you didn’t answer my emails all morning and never showed up for our coffee date. I was worried.”

“Shit, Mulder, I’m sorry. I came down with something yesterday and called out sick. I totally forgot we were having coffee today.”

“You’re sick?” he asks, clear concern in his voice.

“Yes, just a virus or something, I’ll be fine.”

“Can I bring you something? Soup? Juice? Bad movies?”

She chuckles a little. “No, you don’t need to do that.”

“Who's gonna take care of you?”

“Mulder, I’m a grown adult with a cold, I can take care of myself.”

“Are you sure?” She can tell by his tone that he wants to do this more for himself than for her.

“Yes, I’m sure. I don’t want you to see me all sick and disgusting, Mulder. It’s too soon to ruin your image of me,” she says somewhat sarcastically.

“Seeing you sick is not going to change how I feel about you, Scully,” he says very tenderly, and she knows he means it. Still, she doesn’t like the idea.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Sorry to make you drive an hour for nothing. Rain check?”

He sighs noisily. “Okay, fine. I think you inadvertently left ‘stubborn’ off your list of flaws, though.”

“Well, I didn’t want to ruin all the surprises,” she replies with a smile.

He reluctantly says goodbye, and as soon as he hangs up, she calls the first number on her speed dial.

“Hello,” calls Missy in her typical singsong greeting.

“Missy, can you come over?” she whines, little sister mode in full effect, “I’m sick.”

Missy arrives forty five minutes later and fusses around, gathering a glass of water, Tylenol, and the thermometer that is buried in the bottom of a bathroom drawer. Dana has relocated to the couch, and makes a face around the thermometer propped under her tongue when Missy sets four crystals of different shapes and colors on the coffee table, along with two herb-filled capsules. The thermometer beeps angrily and Missy plucks it out of her mouth, shaking her head.

“One hundred and two,” she says with a frown, “here, take these,” she holds out two Tylenol and two of the herb capsules with a glass of water.

Dana takes the Tylenol and leaves the others.

“Whatever those are, I’m not taking them. And you can pack up your crystals,” she says to Missy as she pops the Tylenol and chases them with a big gulp of water.

“They’re just echinacea, Sis, they won't kill you. And neither will the crystals.”

“But they also won’t help,” Dana says dryly, setting her water on the coffee table and burrowing back under her blanket.

“Well, I’ll just leave them right here,” Missy says, standing and going to the kitchen. “Why’d you call me, anyway? Shouldn’t playing sick maid be Mulder’s job now?” She’s looking through cupboards, pulling out a pot and a can of soup.

“It’s too soon for him to see me all congested and disgusting,” Dana replies, stifling a shiver. “He wanted to come over, but I told him not to.”

There’s a knock at the door. Dana sits up, exchanging confused looks with Missy.

“Did you order food?” Dana asks, and Missy shakes her head, moving to the door.

Dana watches from the couch as Missy opens the door to find no one on the other side. She looks at the floor, then down the hall one direction and the other. She stoops down and picks something up, then walks back to the couch with a paper bag.

“What is that?” Dana asks, and Missy shrugs, setting it on the coffee table and sitting at Dana’s feet. There’s a sheet of paper stapled to the bag, and Missy plucks it off, opening it while Dana explores the contents; a carton of tom kah gai soup.

Missy’s face is a mask of confusion as she reads whatever is written on the paper.

“What does it say?” Dana asks, and Missy hands it to her.

Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear. Your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my treasure still.

Dana’s chin puckers as her bottom lip sticks out in a pout. “Oh my god,” she gushes, “it’s Mulder.”

“What the hell does this mean?” Missy asks, taking the paper back and reading it again. “Does he write poetry or something?”

“No,” Dana answers, pulling the lid off the container and breathing in the spicy coconut smell, “it’s a quote from Jane Eyre.”

“Oh my god,” Missy says with a disgusted look, “you two really are meant for each other. This is sickening, Dana, you realize that, right?”

Dana is smiling, taking sips of the hot Thai chicken soup that he somehow knew she needed. “Yes, he’s also a giant nerd, if that’s what you’re saying. But beyond that, I don’t think we have much of anything in common, actually.”

“You both work for the FBI,” Missy offers.

“Yes, but in totally different areas. And he’s an atheist, and believes in unverifiable phenomena like aliens and spontaneous human combustion. And he’s impulsive and easy going, and he makes decisions with his gut,” Dana lists off Mulder’s attributes like she’s describing the trim level on a car. He’s cute, and he has a leather interior.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t use any of those words to describe you,” Missy says pointedly, setting the note on the table, where Dana plucks it back up and reads it again. “But there’s something to be said for being with someone who’s different from you.”

“I don’t really buy into the idea of ‘opposites attract,’” Dana says flatly. “I think that’s just a lie people tell themselves to justify horribly mismatched partnerships.”

“I think ‘opposites attract’ implies that your qualities clash, like the odd couple. One is messy and the other is clean,” Missy replies, propping her elbow on the back of the couch. “But I heard about this idea of ‘perfect opposites’ which is more like someone who complements you, or helps kind of level you out. So perhaps you lean to the extreme in some areas where Mulder leans to the other extreme, and you learn to meet somewhere in the middle.”

Dana gives her a doubtful look. “What is the middle between believing wholeheartedly that Bigfoot exists, and knowing that he doesn’t?”

Missy takes this under serious consideration. “I think,” she says without a hint of sarcasm, “that the medium would be accepting that it’s possible that he exists, and possible he doesn’t, but there's no way to know for sure.”

“So a Bigfoot agnostic?” Dana asks, and Missy nods in confirmation.

Dana shakes her head. “Maybe you should have gone out with him, I think you two might be better suited.”

“Don’t give me any ideas,” Missy says with a coy smile. “Speaking of which, does he have any single friends?”

Dana shrugs around a gulp of soup. “I don’t know, I haven’t met any of his friends.”

“Well, when you do, keep an eye out would ya? Now that I’ve lost my single buddy, I may as well get back out there. God knows it’s torture enough hearing your lurid tales from the bedroom.”

“Missy, I haven’t told you a single lurid tale,” Dana chastises.

“I know, what’s up with that?” Missy retorts in mock offense, “speaking of, what happened when he took you out to dinner Sunday night?”

Dana shakes her head.

“Oh come on, Dana. I have no life, let me live vicariously,” Missy whines.

Dana shakes her head again. “The only thing I’ll say is; maybe don’t eat off the kitchen counter,” she says before giving Missy a guilty look.

Missy’s mouth drops open.

“Wow, I’m not sure if I’m more grossed out or jealous,” she says as she stands, “I’m gonna get out of here, if you’re good. I think I need to go pick up a guy at a bar for some meaningless sex.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for coming by. If you need a condom there are some in the bathroom,” she adds with a sarcastic smile, and Missy sneers at her.

“Ha, ha,” Missy replies as she slips on her shoes and opens the door, “last time I checked, you can’t get pregnant from a vibrator.”

Dana gives her a sympathetic pout and Missy pulls the door closed behind her.

———

It’s a quarter past eight when the phone rings, and he pushes Priscilla onto the floor to retrieve it from his desk.

“Hello?”

“I can’t find it,” says a garbled voice.

“Hello?” he asks again, “who is this?”

“It’s really cold. It’s also too hot,” the voice says around a sound like fabric moving over the mouthpiece.

“Scully?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

There’s a pause. “Mulder?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Are you okay?”

“Mulder, where are you?”

“I’m at home. You called me at home. Is Missy there?”

“No, she had to take her vibrator to a bar,” she answers, and it’s clear that she’s completely delirious.

“Scully, I’m coming over,” he says, standing up to find his shoes and wallet. “Hey, Scully, I need you to do something for me, okay?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can you stand up, and walk to your front door?”

She sighs. “That’s very far.”

“I know it is, but I need you to unlock the door so I can get in. I don’t think your super would be very happy if I broke it down.”

He hears her groan and her voice becomes quieter, then disappears. He waits, and just when he thinks she may have hung up, she picks the phone back up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, did you unlock the door?”

“Mulder?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Mulder, where are you?”

He snickers a little. “I’m on my way over, did you unlock the door?”

“I...I don’t remember,” she says, and she sounds exhausted.

“That’s okay, go back to bed. I’ll figure it out. See you soon, okay?”

“Okay, bye, Mulder.”

He waits but the line doesn’t go dead. He hears her shuffle around a bit and then it’s quiet for a long time. Setting the phone on its cradle, he drives over to her apartment.

The door is, thankfully, unlocked, and all the lights are off.

“Scully?” he calls out, not wanting to scare her. “Scully, are you awake?”

When he gets no response, he slips off his shoes and makes his way to her bedroom, calling out her name intermittently. He finds her twisted up in her sheets, and one touch to her forehead has him jerk his hand away with how hot she is. He strips the blankets off of her, finding her in only a T-shirt and panties underneath. Next he finds a washcloth in the bathroom and soaks it with cold water, then grabs two Tylenol and a glass of water. When he returns to the bedroom and drapes the cloth over her forehead, she starts and opens her eyes momentarily, but then closes them again.

“Scully,” he says softly, shaking her shoulder, “I need you to wake up, honey. I need you to take these.”

Her eyes open slowly and she blinks at him with heavy lids.

“Mulder?” she asks groggily, and he gives her a sympathetic smile.

“I’m here. Can you sit up and take these?”

He helps her prop herself up just enough to swallow the Tylenol and a sip of water before she collapses back against the pillows.

“I feel like shit,” she complains, but her eyes are already closed and she’s on her way back to sleep.

“I know. Get some rest. I’ll be here.”

———

She wakes up to harsh beams of sun pouring directly through her eyelids. Her first thought is that Ethan forgot to close the blinds again, but then she remembers that she and Ethan aren't together anymore and he doesn’t live here, so she must have forgotten to close them. She moves to roll out of bed and is met with the shock of aching muscles, and remembers that she had been raging with fever last night. She probably shouldn’t have let Missy leave, but thankfully the fever seems to have broken during the night. She rolls away from the window, no longer motivated to get up and close the blinds, and finds herself nose to nose with a sleeping Mulder.

“What the hell?” she says out loud, and he opens his eyes and smiles at her.

“Hi,” he says softly, “how do you feel?”

She gives him a perplexed expression. “Confused. How long have you been here?”

He chuckles “I knew you were out of it, but I didn’t think you were that far gone. You don’t remember?”

She shakes her head ruefully.

Mulder rolls to his back and stretches, then turns back to face her. “You called me last night, totally out of it, and I came over to make sure you were okay.”

“How did you get in?” she asks skeptically.

“You let me in.”

Her eyes widen.

“You were burning up, I just force fed you some Tylenol and kept an eye on you. Around 3am you started shivering, so I think that’s when the fever broke.”

She is quiet for a moment, taking in her surroundings. “Mulder...am I not wearing pants?”

He holds up his hands in self defense. “That’s how I found you, Scully, Scout’s honor.”

“What time is it?” she asks, feeling disoriented.

He peeks at his watch. “A little after nine.”

She sits up too quickly and gets dizzy. “I’m late for work,” she says, one hand to her head.

“Scully you were delirious with fever six hours ago, you’re not going to work. I called for you,” he says, sitting up too.

She gives him an incredulous look. “You called out sick to work for me?”

He nods.

She sighs and looks away from him. “I got the soup, and the note,” she says, “thank you.”

“Of course,” he answers, rubbing a palm over her back.

She looks back at him, taking in his sleep rumpled hair and second day stubble. She furrows her brow, a slight scowl on her mouth.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“You’re my boyfriend, aren’t you?” she says with a defeated tone, and he laughs.

“I’d sure like to be, if you’ll have me.”

She groans and slumps against him, sighing as he wraps his arms around her, petting her hair.

“Okay, fine,” she says flatly.

“Well don’t sound so excited about it,” he teases, and she pulls back and smiles at him.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” she says softly.

“Thanks for letting me,” he replies.

[galacticlamps]

im sorry im sorry im sorry i know it’s been well over a year but i accidentally thought about Short Trips: Deleted Scenes (again) and it’s killing me (again) so i think im just gonna go ahead and post all these stupid thoughts that have been plaguing me about it since i first heard it & maybe that’ll help clear up some space in my head for like, real life things.

Spoilers I guess? It’s like a year and a half old but also high key the most recent 2nd doctor content i believe we’ve gotten which is like, the only negative thing I can say about it

The TLDR version is this:

I literally cant believe how sweet it is? Painful, but sweet. Like. I don’t honestly know what’s more likely - did they set out to write Jamie a nice little straight love interest and just fail miserably at it by constantly likening her to the Doctor AND paralleling the Doctor’s perspective with her ex’s AND putting Jamie’s relationships with both of them in direct tension with each other while constantly letting his with the Doctor win out?

OR - did they do a very 1960s thing and say hey we’re gonna write what’s essentially a story about how much Jamie and the Doctor love each other and release it on Valentine’s Day thinly disguised as a one-off romance with a french lady?

Now, as a general rule, my attitude toward questions like that is usually “don’t know, don’t care, doesn’t matter” - and while I 100% stand by that, I also have to admit that this particular audio seems to pay enough attention to detail that I’d kind of think I was selling it short if I assumed too many of these things were just meaningless coincidences, you know?

Anyway, that’s the most coherent/overarching thought. And here’s a disorganized list of things I absolutely cannot get over about it (they don’t form any kind of argument, mind, they just all happen to live rent free in my head):

- Celine is first taken in by Jamie being an idiot (specifically him claiming not to speak French, in perfect French); likewise, her entrance in the scene where they actually kiss is marked with a little anecdote about her hat getting stuck on a doornail and her scolding it as she attempts to fix her un-tameable appearance, and the narration says Celine “would often clown for Jamie like this” - all of which, while undeniably adorable, don’t exactly strike me as entirely original traits to have been assigned to Jamie’s love-interest (but also Celine is so cool and her perspective on film/media/time is an excellent addition to the long list of dr who characters)

- When they’re in the present, describing Jamie’s relationship with Celine in 1908, they call him her “companion” and highlight his going nearly everywhere with her, which earns a laugh from the 4th doctor (and me as well, though probably for slightly different reasons - but like, is that really all it takes to have a fling with someone in 60′s era who? bc if so...)

- Celine’s ex-fiance is still in love with her and is jealously watching when she kisses Jamie ... and then the Doctor appears beside him, evidently doing the exact. same. thing. They have the following conversation:

“You know, it’s not prudent to spy on people. But then, people in pain can’t be expected to act prudently.”

“Pain, monsieur? You mistake me.”

“Ah, do I? Good, because I rather thought you’d lost something.”

“What would you know about loss monsieur?”

- I’m sorry doc but who do you think you are, saying stuff like that and smiling sadly at the floor to boot? I 100% had to pause it here the first time I listened, just to not throw my laptop across the room. 

- Then when I recovered continued, the Doctor closes the door so they can’t watch anymore and explains “Possessing things comes so terribly easily to some men that losing them can feel cruel, intolerably cruel. In my experience, only the very best of men cannot be tempted to answer that cruelty with more - I do sincerely hope that you are the best of men.” (guess who gets described as the best of men by the end of the audio?)

- Jamie and the Doctor apparently develop a habit of walking along the river in Paris in silence

- During one such walk, Jamie suggests Celine come with them since she already figured out about the Tardis - and when the Doctor’s worried by this, he says he only allowed Jamie & Celine to grow closer “because of Victoria.” Jamie takes offense at the ‘allowing it’ comment and also refuses to admit he knows what the Doctor means about Victoria, which leads the Doctor to say that he knows how fond Jamie was of her - he was too, of course, but with him, “it was different, wasn’t it?” Jamie only says maybe that’s true and maybe that’s not, but his voice catches until he changes the subject

- Jamie doesn’t see Celine for days both times that she’s recovering from the shock and depression of her work being destroyed. In contrast, when the Doctor’s not well, Jamie’s "afraid” and “guilty” and hardly seems to leave his side at all, if his being there “rushing to embrace him” the second he wakes up - after a period Jamie describes as “at least a week” - is anything to go by, anyway. so either bf writers need to learn how to write a committed straight relationship or admit that’s not what they ever intended in the first place

- Oh yeah, and the Doctor spends that week "asleep” in Jamie’s bedroom - no, there’s no explanation as to if that’s where he was when he first collapsed or if it’s where Jamie decided to take him bc why would they feel the need to explain him being there? why was it even relevant to tell us it was Jamie’s room in the first place?

- The Doctor somehow manages to control the Tardis enough to take Celine on one trip to an alien planet and then return to the correct time & place for her to use the footage she recorded there in her new film - and while the audio doesn’t do very much to explain how that was possible, it does treat this as A Pretty Big Deal, and immediately afterward the Doctor has to spend a week communing with his past self (and/or the Tardis?) debating how likely it is that the Time Lords could use this to trace him. When he decides it’s not worth the risk and they have to stop the film from ever being shown to the public, Jamie asks why he agreed to it in the first place, and all he can say is “Because, Jamie, you asked me to!” earning awkward stares from the crowd.

- Oh, but, lest we forget, that little outburst is also immediately followed by him putting his arm around Jamie’s shoulders, and, shockingly, apparently beginning to actually explain the truth about the danger from the Time Lords - until they’re interrupted, of course idk why exactly but the idea of a 60s dr wanting to come clean with a companion but not being allowed to bc the show demands the war games be something of a reveal hurts me in a very good way

- The mental image of “the Doctor and Jamie, resplendent in borrowed evening wear”

- The audio admitting that Jamie’s not very good at subterfuge, and the Doctor asking if he’s going to be alright with them having to steal the film back from Celine - and Jamie’s little ���Aye, Doctor” as he feels a ‘glass arrow piercing his chest’ glad to see bf is reading all my letters about exactly how i feel any time something sad happens to james robert mccrimmon

- The Doctor’s anxious to get out of there for obvious reasons, but he hangs around bc Jamie wants to see Celine again - which doesn’t happen, because of her aforementioned shock & depression, but she does leave Jamie a note that ends “you and that Doctor of yours - look after him Jamie, he loves you dearly, as do I.” yeah, if you didn’t want people to draw a parallel there, you could’ve picked, like, any other wording in the world.

- In case you weren’t fully convinced I’ve been reading too much into this whole audio already, consider this: Celine dies in Long Island in 1968, three days before her birthday - 1968 is when this story would’ve taken place in the show’s history (between Fury & Wheel), and dying three days before/after a birthday in America seems a bit... well I had some deja vu from it, anyway

- Four of all people being the one to bring back the film - I know he does it bc Sarah Jane makes him, but personally, I often feel like despite the length of his run, 4 is the Doctor with which we might’ve gotten the fewest glimpses into his interiority, so the fact that it’s him and not one of the more overtly sentimental Doctors makes it feel like it carries even more weight somehow, to me anyway. I think I wrote a post saying roughly the same thing about 4 & Fate of Krelos/Return to Telos but maybe I only did that inside my own head lol. Still, I’m all for any opportunities for Jamie to be one of the few characters to draw some noticeable emotion out of Four, but in fairness I haven’t touched too much of his EU stuff to really be able to compare the frequency with which this happens with other past companions

- Is Four referring to Two or Jamie when he says he got the film from “an old family friend”? Two did the actual stealing, but he probably means Jamie’s involvement - either way, it’s an interesting way of describing old companions - or selves?

- When Jemima goes to call Jamie a thief, Four is “roused” to defend him: “he really was the very best of men” again, any time four freely shows he cares about someone, im over the moon about it

- Oh ha ha, there’s an audio called “Deleted Scenes” featuring the Doctor who’s most affected by junked episodes. And at the end of it, a character who’s spent her life researching and lecturing about a lost film gets to watch it be ‘rediscovered’ after it’s gone unseen for decades. I feel marginally less stupid for reading into the other details of a story like this when it ends up deciding to be to be clever & slightly meta like that

But yeah

all in all, it’s kind of amazing to me that this genuinely reads like they sat down and said okay boys it’s valentines day, let’s write an audio where jamie kisses a girl, since that hasn’t happened except as a plot device in one story in 1967 - but then when they got down to business they accidentally(?) wrote a story all about how important his bond with the Doctor is and how easily that can be compared to a legitimate love interest (even if the love interest in question is a one off character & the extent of the relationship appears to be like one kiss & then having Jamie spend most of his time around the Doctor instead)

I realize there’s something slightly illogical about writing the words “shipping aside” after a post like this but seriously - no matter how many categories you’re able to see two & jamie’s relationship fitting into, this is 40 minutes of big finish just hitting you over the head with how powerful/special/important that relationship is, and with them being two of my favorite characters, i really haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since

[wordynerdygurl]

Skin Deep - Part 6

Author’s Note:  Honestly, this story is nearing it’s ending.  Hard to believe that a little idea I couldn’t shake has now grown into this mini-series!  For all my die-hard homies, waiting for the next installment, I hope this is worth your while!  If you’re new here, take a look around, see if you like anything and please, let the management know if you have any questions!! As always, writing like this requires the emotional support of people and pets.  My dogs, Murphy and Winston, get me through a lot of plot bunnies just by being stalwart companions.  My husband, graciously, lets me take these flights of fancy when I probably should be paying better attention to him and his day... and some of my besties here on Tumblr make it possible for me to do this for you guys.  @sammy-jo1977​ , my sister from another mister!  Couldn’t/ Wouldn’t do it without you! To all the folks who follow me... My Minxes!  Love you all!  Stay well, be kind, and remember that Love, really does conquer all!  If you want to be a Minx, send me a note, I’ll happily add you to my tag list! Lastly, be sure to like and share anything that you see on Tumblr that catches your eye.  Creative types, we need the constant validation, you see?  Without it, like an unwatered plant, we wither on the vine and perish!  Be kind to those who help you through the day and reblog! Skin Deep Part 5 - click here for the previous chapter! Pairing:  Loki x Reader, Steve, Valkyrie & Thor all make appearances Summary:  Continued from Part 5, You and Loki put your plan into action, returning to Farmhouse.  When you encounter Steve again, you learn there’s more than two sides to this story. Warnings:  Loki’s POV and perspective, including mentions of his time under Thanos.  I’m re-writing MCU history here, but some of the main beats are the same, so look out for SPOILERS for Dark World, Ragnarok, and a touch of Infinity War.  The SNAP never happened because, reasons.  

Empathy used to seem such a human emotion.  Loki had no time for that on Asgard, not when Odin denied anything as frivolous as feeling.  Hiding in plain sight was the means to survival and if that made the young prince sneaky and sly, so be it.  By placing those parts of himself under lock and key; the parts that hurt, the ones that ached, Loki found it was safer to disconnect from others than subject himself to their suffering too.

Operating under the influence of Thanos and his minions when he held the scepter, Loki had purposefully divorced connection of any kind from his mind.  It was dangerous.  Weak.  And moreover, it allowed Loki to do what Thanos commanded without really experiencing the horror, the havoc, of his actions for himself. 

  Who could hear the screams of women when the voice of Ebony Maw subliminally chanted all the ways that one could be dismembered at Thanos’ hands should Loki fail?  What man would shed a tear after the near constant beatings doled out by Black Order members, just for the fun of it?  How could someone care about a house, a car, a city, when they no longer cared about themself? Losing the Battle for New York had consequences far beyond the destruction of property.  With Thanos’ hold over him vanquished, the walls around his heart, constructed in youth, crashed and burned like the dream of ruling Earth.  Suddenly and completely out of reserves, Loki was powerless.  And he felt everything.  The fresh hurts caused by his manipulated ambitions in the hands of Thanos. The furious feelings of his brother, the inadequacies of his character, the feeble needs that drove his wild ambition washed over him unceasingly.  Anger.  Loss.  Lunacy.  Loki learned a hard truth in that moment.  He was a monster.  A freak.  A creature beyond hope and salvation; proving his adoptive father right and his own hopeful heart wrong.  Bitterness soured the fallen prince. Endless hours in isolation on Earth, which continued in his father's house, had Loki believing he had no chance of seeing the world outside again, and it hardened his heart further.  To feel was so painful, so raw, and so humane.  Why bother anyway?  All that emoting, those high spirits, all they really did was expose you to derision.  What was grief to a goblin?  What was horror to a monster?  What was love to a villain like him?  An evil, conspiring demi-god, with a mind bent toward domination.  A damaged, destroyed, deity alone and in pieces.  Who would ever give someone like Loki Odinson a chance?  Why should they?

Turning to his mother, Loki did everything but ask for forgiveness.  In long rambling talks, her projection to his jailed person, the pair talked around ideas of guilt and innocence, of fate and fortune, of destiny versus desire, yet Loki never heard the words he needed in order to truly find peace.   

If Frigga was aware of her son’s need for absolution, Loki would never know, as their last exchange was harsh and full of anger.  Another stroke of loss, crippling now, because there was nothing Loki could do to change any of it from inside his prison cell.  No illusion could conceal the painful ache that consumed him entirely. 

Those days were dark, even for a soul as dusky hued as his own, and Loki’s thoughts followed a similar path.  If there had been a way for him to shake off this immortal coil, free himself of the burden of living, Loki would have done so and been glad.  Death was welcome compared to all this longing and heartache. But life, even a nearly immortal one, was funny. 

When Thor provided a chance at redemption, Loki snatched at it, in his own detached way.  He played hero, rescuing Jane, aiding his brother.  And if he took a bit more in the form of deposing his arrogant, aging father, who would be surprised?  He was Loki, God of Mischief, after all. Ruling the Nine Realms without the oppressive oversight of his father allowed Loki to prove himself in ways he never imagined.  And Loki wasn’t just good at it.  He was great. Of course, it helped that no one knew he was Loki.  Living disguised as Odin was often unpleasant, frequently frustrating, but entirely necessary.  Being Loki was still too difficult and likely to bring unwanted attention in the form of The God of Thunder, a thing that no one truly wanted, Loki least of all. Return Thor did, along with an unknown sister and the end of Asgard.  When confronted with the insanity of Hela’s bloodlust, Loki’s only thought was of his kingdom, now without a ruler.  He had worked too hard, too long, to see the land he cared for in the hands of an enemy, even if she called herself sister.  Opening the Bi-Frost, panicked, his mind was solely on saving those he had recently held dominion over.  They were his people, after all.  But he never reached Asgard. Swallowing his fear, Loki focused all his energy on staying alive in a new and distracting environment, initially.  What Loki found on Sakaar wasn't a new home base under a flamboyant, ineffective leader that he could control, even if that was his first design.  On Sakaar Loki found his loyalty.  

The proud, deep resonance of being Asgardian, of being an Odinson, of being capable and cool under pressure.  Sure, he had to prove himself to Thor, Valkyrie, Banner and honestly, the rest of the kingdom, but actions speak louder than words.  And through his actions on Sakkar, and by extension rescuing the people of Asgard, Loki had shown everybody his true mettle. It was on the deck of a stolen ship headed for Midgard that  Loki had made a commitment of sorts.  One that was not to the people, so recently saved or for his found family.  This time, the promise Loki intended to keep was for himself.  Loki was going to change. The problem is, a task like that takes time.  Patience.  Motivation.  It was something that Loki had to work at and it was exhausting. They say that the best things come to those who wait.  Loki was learning to wait everyday.  Having earned a place at the side of his brother, he worked tirelessly to win over the heroes of his new home planet.  Was it easy?  Hardly, but Loki wasn’t willing to compromise.  Not anymore. A life like Hela’s was not in his runes.  Loki was simply going to be better.  Not perfect.  No one could be as good hearted as Captain America, nor could one be as tech savvy as Stark.  So Loki was planning on being the best Loki he could possibly be, and that’s how he found himself going to meetings at The Avengers Tower, a mostly welcome addition to the team. Meetings weren’t all that exciting and boredom was an awful temptation for a deity devoted to mayhem.  In fact, Loki spent more time doodling in his notebook than listening to whoever was droning on about whatever part of the world needed the attention of this motley crew.  That was, until Pepper Potts hired her new assistant.  That you were polite, pretty and pert wasn’t lost on the young god.  Sitting outside Mrs. Iron Man’s office, typing away with a phone tucked under your ear, moving faster than anyone he had ever seen was certainly impressive.  You were quick witted, clever and most of all, funny. Everyone else seemed to fall under your spell without much effort on your part, something that Loki found frustratingly fascinating.  Here he was, struggling to get people to say his name without having a traumatic flashback, while you simply smiled and smarted off prettily, and had everyone singing your praises.  But Norns, were you adorable. If he thought about it, and while off planet, Loki definitely had, he could remember the moment he realized that you were the woman he wanted.  You were busy, as always, fielding phone calls and flipping through screens yet every moment your flying fingers weren’t hovering over a keyboard or pushing down telephone buttons they curled around a heart shaped charm at your throat.  Clearly, it was a habit and one that you weren’t even aware of, still - it transfixed him all the same.  Watching you from his side eye, your voice never wavering, your tone always so pleasing, and your nimble digits returning again and again to the small sigil around your neck.  “Loki?” “Huh?”  Dumbfounded at your call, those deep sea eyes blinked wildly at the sound of his name on your lips. “Hi!  Yes, Pepper can see you now.  Go ahead, she’s ready!” He rose on stiff legs, adjusting his tie, about to lie to Tony Stark’s woman all for the chance to see you in passing.  Who had he become? It started out innocent like that, but soon, Loki was having to invent excuses for being in the office so frequently.  Missing files, random visits, even going so far as to buy Tony coffee just for the thrill of seeing you.  Something needed to change, and quickly, or Loki was going to blow. On another made up errand, hanging around the executive’s high rise office, Loki was doing a bad job of pretending not to see you.  His mind was on your pouty lips as you sipped lemonade through a straw and not on the stately woman seated behind the desk. 

“Loki, you’re a man of some… style.”  Pepper said it so casually that he almost didn’t hear, his head lost in thoughts that would shame any other person. “I like to think so.”

Shutting her folder with a snap, Pepper smiled, “And you’d love to help your old friend Pepper out, right?” That got his attention, and quickly.  Loki, shoving his hands in his pockets, turned to face Pepper with a widening grin, “I feel like I’m being baited.”

“Baited?  Never!  It’s just, you’re always here and I have a… project that needs the kind of help that you can provide.”  At those words you entered the office, ready for action with a notebook and pen, eager and excited. Suddenly, it was all clear to Loki, “Pepper, no.”  

The noose closed in on the handsome god as Pepper gathered paperwork without looking his way, “Come on, it’s the Stark Homecoming Gala and the two of you will do great!  I have faith in you both.  I can’t wait to see what you come up with!” “Really, Miss Potts, I simply can’t-” Stopping short, the strawberry blonde whipped around, almost nose to nose with Loki.  Shrewd and straightforward, Pepper interrupted, saying, “You’ve been dancing around my office for weeks now.  Clearly you like her and… against all the odds, she likes you too.  I’m doing you a favor and when someone does you a favor, you say “Thank You”.” “Thank you.” Nodding curtly, “You’re welcome.  Now, make yourselves comfortable, order some dinner, my treat.  And do whatever you need to make sure this is one great party!” That’s how Loki found himself sitting at a clear glass table over sweating bottles of iced tea as you discussed color themes and tablecloths.  You were shy, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you reviewed notes from previous gatherings both large and small.  His hands itched with wanting to do that job himself. “So, what do you think?”  It was the first time you had addressed him directly since coming through the door and for a moment Loki couldn’t answer.  You were too… not beautiful, that wasn’t the right word, although you were.  No, you were too open, too easy to read, and the earnestness you offered him was downright frightening. Sitting forward in the uncomfortable, yet fashionable, office furniture, Loki cleared his throat and again tugged his tie, “What I think is that you should let me take you dinner.” Dropping your eyes, your cheeks colored slightly as your fingers found that locket charm once more, “Loki, I… I don’t know-” Grabbing for your hand, suddenly afraid that you would take those shining eyes away, Loki lowered his voice and did something he never thought he would.  He begged.  “Please?  I find that you’re all I can think about.” It rushed out of him in a torrent, the way truth so often does, and he found himself unable to look you in the eye.  Loki was afraid to see rejection on your easy to read face, afraid that wanting you had cracked open the lock box holding his heart, afraid that you would see just how weak you made him.  Your fingers twined with his own as you replied, “You didn’t let me finish.  I don’t know what took you so long.” Sighing with relief, his face melting into a genuine smile, “Me either.” Over the next two months the pair of you worked tirelessly to plan and execute a perfect party.  You were inseparable during the day, heads buried together as you discussed linens and table settings, the quality of cocktail glasses, and debating over a band or a dj.  But at night, at night Loki talked about the things that haunted him in the dark.  And you loved him in spite of the awful things he had seen and done and said. Others took notice.  Loki was more lighthearted, more available.  He listened when people spoke and wasn’t constantly doodling during meetings.   Yes, Loki was learning how to love through your loving him.  If empathy had seemed too humane before, then sharing his life, his love with you, was the kind of immortality that earned someone a place in Valhalla.  It was the bravest thing Loki Odinson had ever done and he didn’t mind one bit.

The first time Loki tasted you was burned into his brain, as bright as a flash of lightning.  A firefly in a memory jar that he kept returning to, time and again.  Loki remembered what you were wearing.  He recalled exactly how the light shone in your eyes.  If he concentrated, he could tap out the rhythm of your racing pulse as he held you in his arms. It was the night of the gala.  Inviting everyone under the Stark Industries banner, up to and including the heroes tasked with saving the world, the event was a way to earn money for one of the many charities Tony supported.  The place was full of beautiful people wearing gorgeous clothes under perfect lights set to the hand crafted soundtrack you had created together.

But, Norns, he could still remember the way your eyes sparkled under the lowlights of that hall.  How your dress, simple but sophisticated, clung to the fullness of your bottom.  Low cut but somehow still modest, Loki couldn’t tear his gaze away from the promise of your curves, willing himself to find anything else as interesting as the idea of you.  

You were across the room hanging onto Tony’s every word, eyes bright and cheerfully glowing as you sipped champagne.  It made Loki want to do something grand, something suave, something that would demand your attention for his own.  Moving towards you, his tuxedo perfectly pressed and fitting better than it had any right to, Loki looked long and lean.  Each of his steps seemed to echo, even though the room was full of sound, and you turned your head as if you also heard.  Breaking away from the cluster of acolytes surrounding Iron Man, you bit into your lip as the crowd parted, moving closer together one step at a time.  It was one of the sexiest things Loki had ever witnessed. Lifting your glass in a toast, taking in the room of mingling millionaires, wealthy hangers on and Avengers, “Well, we did it!” “You did it, my dove, I just hung around and judged everyone.” “Oh stop.  I couldn’t have done it without you and you know it.”  Playfully you pushed against his shoulder and Loki took advantage, using your momentum to pull you to his side, your curvy figure flush against his own. Crooning into the shell of your ear, his lips brushing over that sensitive skin, “Somehow, love, I think you would have managed.”  Before you had time to think, Loki had melded his mouth with your own, stealing your breath along with your heart.  Loki’s feet moved in time with the music as he pulled into a dance, laughing in his arms, your cheeks hot and your head swimming. You laughing was, without question, Loki’s favorite sound.  Nothing in this world or any other came close to matching the joyful, childlike glee of that enchanting noise.  Loki memorized its melody, the rise and fall of your giggle.  He had craved it, being away for so long, and now he wanted… no, needed to hear it.  But you were the furthest thing from happy at the moment.   

"Darling, please.  We have to go."  Loki tapped his watch, shaking himself free from the memories of your previous life together and barely suppressing his irritation.

Tears filled your eyes as you whipped your arms around Thor’s mighty shoulders, his deep voice grumbly with emotion, "Take care of him, would you?  He's a jerk, but Loki is the only brother I have."

"Of course… always.  And Valkyrie, your highness, I can’t thank you enough for-"

"No need.  Loki, and by extension yourself, will always have a safe haven here in my palace."

Looking on, Loki and Thor embraced almost tenderly before crashing their heads together.  

"Stay safe, little brother."

"Be good, Thor."

Eyes on the sky, Val ignored the show of masculine emotion, chastising your plan, "You’re going to start a war, Loki."

Straight backed, Loki turned to the king, "Not on the grass of New Asgard.  I will take the fight to them, that is my vow to you."

As Loki offered his hand, Valkyrie shook it, with parting words, "Work on staying alive.  You have a tendency to worry your brother."

Solemnly nodding, "As the king commands.  Shall we?"  With that Loki laced his fingers with yours, leading you a few paces away from the people who loved him most, before summoning the magic that had you both transcending space and time.

This time when your feet touched down it was on the familiar turf of the orchard, surrounded by the scent of apple blossoms and the buzzing of happy bees.  Morning had broken and the world seemed full of promise, with the exception of that knot in your stomach.

"Are you ready?  Darling?"

"Oh… yes.  I mean, I still don't love this plan, but-"

"But it's going to work."  Only it was no longer the baritone voice of your long, lean Loki speaking.  In his place stood Nick Fury, leather duster and eye patch in place.

"If you say so!"  And you clutched your own throat as Natasha’s bored tones came out of your mouth.  The suit, skin tight but flexible, molded to your modified form.  All in all, you were comfortable, "The boots are a bit much."

"Ya think?  This jacket weighs a ton."  Pulling at his collar, "Why does he wear a turtleneck anyway?"

"Loki, this is so weird.  It feels so weird."

"Agreed, but then, why am I so turned on?"

Laughing, you shook your false red hair, hands resting on Natasha’s waist, "God, I've missed you."

"Same, dearest.  Now… let's get your necklace and some answers!"

---

 Convincing Bucky to head home had taken a lot of work, but sometime around 2 am Steve had finally seen his friend off.  The house was empty.  Steve felt the same way.

Turning the black velvet box in his pocket, fingers crushed against the fragile fabric, Steve struggled to feel anger.  When that didn't materialize he shot for sadness but even tears seemed beyond his ability.  

With a sigh, climbing the same stairs he had trudged up a hundred times before, Steve started going through the motions of bedtime.  Only tonight you weren’t there to tease him about the wildly inappropriate amount of toothpaste on his brush.  He didn’t have your light footsteps to follow to the bedside or your help with stacking all of your extra, yet entirely essential, pillows on the chair.

Someone must have changed the sheets, he thought.  There was no evidence of you and Loki’s adventurous afternoon anymore.  Steve made a mental note to thank Buck for that little piece of kindness in the morning.

Shucking his shirt, Steve sat on the mattress, a hand to his forehead.  He had lost.  Captain America had been bested.  Beaten.  And by Loki, no less.

Moonlight in silver slivers shone through the window panes, squares of light in the deep of night.  Steve was alone.  Utterly and totally alone.

And there was no one to blame but himself.

Sighing hard, Steve stood, pacing the floor to work off some of the unspendable anxiety he kept creating.  The room still had your energy, your vibe, as you liked to call it, and the feeling was a prickling itch Steve couldn’t quite satisfy.  Traces of you were everywhere and something about you leaving all of it, and him, behind was just too big to process. “Damn it.”  Even whispering sounded like thunder in the silence of your recently vacated room.  His hands, so big, so strong, smoothed along the fabric of your hanging clothes.  All that power had done nothing to help Steve get the thing he wanted. Sorting through the baubles and trinkets on your dresser, bottles of perfume he had purchased, necklaces and pins, each with a moment of memory it hurt him to recall.  Your watch ticked away the minutes as he stood, stoic and still, surrounded by the shadow of you.  In the orchard the birds were waking, their song filling the air, as morning broke in low golden rays.  Abandoning his plan for sleep, Steve watched as the light chased away the dark, casting rainbows on the floor.  The sun was reflecting off of your Grandmother’s necklace.  A pretty, ancient, carved cameo,  heart shaped locket.  He recalled his own mother owning one just like it, pictures of loved ones pressed inside, holding them as tight as history would allow. Fisting the filigree chain, winding it around his fingers as if it would somehow undo what he had done, Steve slipped it into his pocket before settling back onto the bed.  ----

At the back door to the home you so recently shared with Steve, Loki hung back, “I think this is where we split up.  You go find your treasure and me… I’m going to find some answers.” Nodding, Natasha’s signature red hair swinging, you squeezed the hand holding your own.  It no longer looked like Loki’s long fingered paw, but that was only a skin deep change.  You felt the undeniable essence of him in the press of his fingers against your own. “Be careful.” “That’s no fun, dove.” “Loki-”  You hated the way your voice broke as you said it, but there just seemed to be so much at stake and you had already lost him once. Sensing your unspoken concerns, Loki flashed you Nick Fury’s best smile, “I will.  I promise.”

“Ten minutes.” “Ten minutes.”  You watched the black coated back of your charmed paramour as he opened the shed door, hoping that he’d find something worth knowing in that place out of sight.  Inhaling deeply you twisted the doorknob as quietly as possible, letting yourself into what was once your kitchen, “What a mess.”  It was impossible not to notice the unwrapped leftovers and empty bottles littering the table.  An overturned trash barrel, crumpled beer cans littering the counter, things that Steve, your Steve, would never have tolerated.  All evidence that the grand evening he’d envisioned had been thwarted by Loki’s arrival and your collective escape.  

You started up the stairs, praising Natasha's footwear for its stealth, when you heard the toilet flush and the unmistakable shuffle of Steve’s feet on the carpet.  There was no place to hide on the wide stairwell.  It was time to see if Loki's plan was going to work.

Voice blurry, eyes rubbed red and raw, you couldn't deny that Steve looked like shit, “Bucky?  That you?  You back?”  Steve’s voice bounced around the brightening room as morning sunlight filtered through the soft sheers you had picked out for exactly this reason. Panicked, you backed into the railing with an over loud “Oof!” “Nat?  What are you doing here?  I thought you and Fury were headed to New Asgard?”  Suddenly wide awake and wondering, Steve rushed to your costumed side, eager for information. The man in front of you now bore little resemblance to the angry Avenger you had escaped from hours before.  This man had hair sticking up in odd angles from near constant finger raking.  This man had a hint of a stuffy nose and red rimmed eyes, all indicators that tears had been shed.  Now those blue eyes were scrutinizing you closely, full of concern.

“Uh… We... We got intel.  Yea, intelligence, that Loki was headed back this way.  Turned around… and uh, here we are.” One of those sandy blonde eyebrows lifted, “Natasha?”

Squaring your shoulders, channeling that cool confidence you’d see Black Widow display over and over, “Steve?”  Something about your tone of voice convinced him in a way your words couldn’t.  He visibly relaxed, those broad shoulders going slack as he asked, “Didn’t make it to Norway, then?"

Nodding a negative, you felt the unfamiliar brush of her red hair at your cheek and had to fight the urge to tuck it away, “No.  Loki’s using some sort of transporting power to move them around.  Fury suggested I keep an eye out here, in case they come back this way.” “She won’t be back, Nat.  There’s nothing for her here.”  To you, Steve sounded so sad, so removed, that you had to will yourself not to comfort the giant before you.  “That’s not true!”  It came out of you forcefully, thoughtlessly, and you saw the shock register on the Captain’s face. “That is, Fury and I… we… have reason to believe that she will come back.  They left with nothing, Steve.  She’ll need clothes… maybe some shoes… and-”  Swallowing hard, you didn’t want to give anything away, “-a necklace from her grandmother.” Steve, patting his pocket, felt the weighted chain and it’s heart shaped locket, “I don’t think-” Stepping up to his bulky form, suddenly aggressive, you started, “Never mind what you think, Captain.  We're here for a necklace...  the necklace.  Our intel suggests that your former flame might return for it and… And, I want it, with me, as a means to subdue her when she arrives." Sounding forceful and official was enough to back Steve down.  Just a touch deflated, you watched him shrug, “If that’s what you want, Nat, here-”  From his pants he pulled out the shining bauble, a trinket really, but full of sentiment and memory. Sitting in his palm, the tiny heart that held the picture of your grandmother and mother looked so small, almost unreal.  Reaching for it with wet eyes, you smiled at Steve as you lifted the charm and chain, “Thank you, Steve.  Thank you.” Nodding deeply, that golden head bobbing, “You’re welcome.”  The large grandfather clock could be heard ticking throughout the house.  The sun was gaining on the day and you, dressed as Natasha stood in silence in front of a somber Steve.  For another long beat nothing was said, then, as if sensing a shift in your conversation, Steve flashed your fake Natasha a weak smile, “I could use some breakfast.  How about you?”

“Um… sure.  Yea, ok.  Breakfast.” 

Steve started moving again, downstairs towards the cluttered kitchen when he paused, "So how did you get back so fast?  Cause that's like a 7 hour flight, even with you in the cockpit." “Steve…”  You could hear it, the whining almost pleading tone that signaled the end of Loki’s well planned charade.  That wasn’t enough to stop Steve.  He broke hard, one of those strong arms stopping you in your tracks before you could reach the lower level. “It’s clever, I have to give you guys that.  Almost perfect, really.” Panic rising, you doubled down on the ruse, struggling to keep your voice even, “I don’t know-”  Blocking you in, his body the perfect unmovable buffer, “Loki’s here too, isn’t he?” Pushing against “Steve, I… I don’t…” “Don’t lie.  You don’t have to…” “But… how-?” “You’re not mean enough to play Natasha, doll.  Not by a long shot.”

--- It was strange to be seated at the table and chairs that you and Steve had picked out together one sunny Saturday when you thought that your future was going to be Loki-less.  Your place, the one that you had imagined filling with children that had golden hair and bright blue eyes, felt like a set.  Something false and fake.  A facade, put together simply for show. Steve must have felt it too because his fingers drummed against the white washed table incessantly.  Clearly he had something on his mind.  “Steve-” “No.  No.  Please, let me just get this out, ok?” Raising an eyebrow, you waved at him to continue, nervous but interested in what the super soldier needed to explain. With a shaky inhale, running his constantly moving fingers through his golden locks, Steve caught your eye and didn’t waiver.  “When I saw you… No, that’s not right.  Let me start at the beginning. “When Loki left Earth, you… you were so sad.  It hurt me to see you so… deflated.” “Steve, I-” “You know it’s true.  When he returned to Asgard, something in you, it dimmed, and I just couldn’t allow that… Not when I felt the way I did about you. “I don’t think you realize just how incredible you are… how full of life!  And since I had already missed one chance to be with you, I knew I needed to prove that I could be the man you needed… If you forgot about Loki along the way, even better. “Only… you never did.  I waited years for you, ya know, doll?  Years.  And just when I thought there was no chance with you, Nat gave me a reason to hope. “She was your friend.  An ally.  Someone you could trust… someone I could trust.  I swear it started out that innocently, at least for me.  I just wanted to make you smile again.  But she had other plans.  Plans that came from higher up the ladder of SHIELD. “Fury, he wanted us to watch you… something about Loki being too powerful.  And-”, grabbing your hand tightly, Steve emphasized his point, “-I promise you that I had no idea about his success, or the messages he had sent to you through Nick.  Like you, I thought that Loki was gone.  Missing.  Never coming back.” “I… I believe you Steve.  I know that you didn’t do all this on your own… but what was Nick hoping you’d find out?  I knew less than nothing about what was going on!” “I think he was worried that Loki would get to you first.  That if… when Loki returned, you would be his first stop.  Then you would know about Loki’s success and, frankly, Fury’s failures.  You would also know… well, everything you know now.  That Fury had you tailed, lied to, and led on in an effort to stop Loki from out flanking him.” Frenzied and frantic, you felt anger boiling up inside of you, “But I thought Loki was gone forever.  There was no hope for him and I… and Natasha, she told me that he was dead.” “All a part of Fury’s plan to keep you neutralized and Loki away.  If Loki thought that you’d ignored his letters, that you no longer loved him, why would he come back here?  And, if that didn’t work… when Loki came back and you were with me, what else could keep him on Earth?”

Whispering with realization, “So, they used you too.” Steve sighed and buried his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt, “Don’t feel bad for me.  I let them use my love for you, let them twist it up and shape it as they needed.  Honestly, I wish I could tell you that it was for you, but it wasn’t.  It was for me.  I wanted you, so, so badly.  I didn’t care what strings were attached.  And we built a life together, you and me.  I thought I could outrun the reality of the constant monitoring and daily reports.  Telling Natasha and Nick about every word and each email.  Don’t you see, I love you… and I wanted you, however I could get you.” Shaking your head, Natasha’s red wisps flying, “That’s not love, Steve.  I don’t know what that is… but love isn’t it.” “No?”  With a loud thunk, Steve slammed a small velvet box on the table between you. “Is… Is that what I think it is?”

“Last night.  It was going to happen last night.  Our friends here, under the lights and the stars, I was going to ask you to marry me.  I still would if-” Realization hit you like a ton of bricks, “If Loki hadn’t stepped back into our lives.” “-If Loki hadn’t stepped back into your life.” It made you both laugh in a sad way, how you finished the same thought, and for a fleeting second you could see why you had allowed Captain America to sweep you off your feet.  He was a lot of things to you now, but there was a time when he had been almost everything.  The evidence of that was in the small black square that said nothing but spoke volumes. “Steve, I don’t know if I would have said yes… even without Loki’s… arrival.  I think I have always known that you and I… we are very different people.” Sitting back in his chair, his gaze still locked on your own, “I just want you to know that I’m sorry.  I’m sorry about what I’ve done… what I’ve said… How, shit, how I’ve behaved.  I could say that it was my duty.  I could tell you it was out of love, but the plain truth is that I have always been jealous of what you and Loki share.” “You’ll find it Steve.  You really will.  There’s a person out there waiting for you.  And once you’ve found them, oh Steve, you’ll see that this… what we had, it’s a shadow.  An illusion.  Because love, real love, doesn’t come with caveats and catches.  It is an undeniable force which, in my case, even the boundaries of time and space can not deny.” Something like a sob burst out of Steve, and you were surprised to see tears in his eyes, “I was so wrong.  Could you ever forgive me?” “I want to, Steve.  I really do... “  What more could you say?  Patting his hand you started to rise, “I have to go now.  Loki and I need to keep moving and I don’t want to risk running into Nick and Natasha.  At least, not yet, anyway.” “Where are you planning to go?” “To the Avenger’s Tower.  I believe I know what Mr. Fury has been planning all along.”  Loki’s strong voice entered the conversation as smoothly as his arms wrapped possessively around your waist. Steve took in the protective stance of your returned lover with a raised eyebrow, and without further comment asked Loki, “Really?  And how are you going to breach the building?  They’ll be looking for you, even with disguises…  Fury is no fool.  Plus, there’s little chance that Tony hasn’t activated a million safety and security protocols by now.” Only interested in you, Loki refused to give Steve any of his attention, “Getting in can’t be that hard!  I’ll figure it out when I get there.  Ready pet?” With a gentle push under his broad hands your feet started to move towards the door.  Loki was eager to be off and away, especially after hearing so much of Roger’s confession.  Just knowing what Steve had done, manipulating you while also convinced of his love for you;  it was enough for Loki to commit murder.  He was having quite a difficult time not tearing the good Captain’s limbs off his body. Softening his tone, Steve practically pleaded, “Loki.  Wait.  I… I can help.” Turning his attention fully to your former flame, Loki purred venomously, “You can help?  I’d love to know what entails, Captain.” “I can get you into the place and take you exactly where you need to go.  Fury’s going to hate it, but I’m tired of taking orders that hurt the people that-”  His pause was as lingering as the look he gave you, “- That I love.”  Before Loki could offer a sincerely sassy reply you grabbed his sleeve, tugging, “Um… Excuse us a minute Steve.” Pulling him down the hall of a home that felt like a familiar faced stranger, you waited until you had a bit of distance from Steve before harshly whispering, “How long were you listening?”

Serving you that small, sexy smile, Loki grinned, “Long enough.  How did you know I was there?” “You are sneaky, but even you, God of Mischief, cast a shadow.” Swinging you close enough to catch your mouth with his own, Loki pressed a sweet kiss there before answering, “A mistake I will be careful not to make again!” “The tower, huh?  That’s where you want to go?”  Grabbing you at the swell of your hips, grinding his frame against your own, “Where I want to go, my darling, is to the nearest bed, preferably naked, with you and you alone.” Your hands traced over the lapels of his borrowed leather duster, pausing only to jerk him closer by the supple fabric, “Hmm… is that so?” “Oh yes…”  Loki’s buttery grumble filled your ear as his strong hands dug into the flesh of your bottom.  For a moment you thought he’d give in to temptation, his sweet lips teasingly close to your own upturned mouth, “But-” On your toes, leaning into Loki’s sturdy, leather draped frame, you paused, “Ugh.  But?” Moving you to a safer, less kissable, arms length away, Loki sighed with the same frustration you felt, “-But, where we need to go, as soon as possible, is the Tower.” Moaning grumpily, you stepped out of the arms you longed to linger in, “I was afraid you were going to say that.” “I know it’s less than… ideal, love, but I did find something useful before the good Captain unburdened his soul this morning.” “And that is?” “Fury’s plan.  At first I couldn’t figure out exactly what he was after.  What did Fury want?  How was I involved?” Loki was dragging this out, loving how it kept you hanging onto his every word, and you rolled your eyes, “Well?  What is it?  Weapons?  War?” “All of that, yes… and… yours truly.”  That triumphant smile that filled Loki’s whole face lit up his mischievous eyes.  Tilting your head, struggling to make sense of what Loki had just told you, “What do you mean, you.  Fury wanted you… to do what, exactly?’ “Loki was going to be the patsy.” You both turned toward the sound of Steve’s baritone at the door, suddenly remembering that the Good Captain was still there and that he was waiting to see what you were going to do next.  Leaning his 100 year old bones into the doorframe, Steve crossed his arms, “The fall guy.  An example of what happens if you cross SHIELD.” “I think, my dear Mr. Rogers, that you mean, I am to be used as an example of what happens if one crosses Nick Fury.”  Loki countered, slinging an arm over your shoulder protectively. The idea was frightening.  A man like Fury had too much power, too much at his disposal.  Just knowing the lengths he had gone to in order to keep you and Loki apart was scary enough.  Making enemies of your friends.  Threatening the people you loved.  Selling your affection to Steve in an effort to control Loki.

Now, the knowledge that all of it was done in an effort to ensure that Nick Fury was the toughest guy in the galaxy, it made your stomach clench.  “What do you mean, an example?” “Unless my intelligence is flawed, I believe that Fury was going to kill me.  Is that correct, Captain?” Steve felt the weight of two sets of eyes on him.  Yours, full of fearful love and blind hope that this was all just some misunderstanding.  Innocent and naive and as lovely as he could ever remember.  Loki’s were reflecting a deeper understanding.  The kind of knowledge that only time in the trenches teaches. There was no answer from Captain Rogers.  None was needed.  Honesty, final and resolute, was out in the open.  “Look.  I know I’m not the guy you want on your side.  I’ve… I haven’t been the man I needed to be.  Not for you-”  Steve locked his bright blues onto you, offering a small smile that spoke of sadness before facing Loki, “-Or you, Loki.  But if you let me help you now, I promise that I can get you into the tower and maybe, one day, you won’t think so little of me.” 

Around you the morning gained strength.  Somewhere nearby birds chirped wildly, blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding in the modest little farmhouse and its implications on intergalactic politics.  Without  moving a muscle, Loki plainly asked you, “Do you trust him, dearest?” Squaring your shoulders, you crossed your arms, staring down the man called Captain America.  Nodding decisively, “I do.  I don’t think he’d spill everything like that only to turn on us.  He’s not so bad Loki, really.” “We’ll see about that.  For now, we trust Steve.  Ok, what’s your plan, Rogers?” --- “Hey.  I… I have one other thing to show you.”  Steve was dressed for action in his branded tactical gear, looking every inch the super soldier that Dr. Erskine envisioned. “Steve, we have to get moving.  Loki’s eager and -” “Just open it, ok?”  The envelope was thick with folded paper, the flap tucked under and not sealed.  Clearly it had spent time in and out of pockets, the edges frayed and tattered.  In exasperated curiosity you gingerly pulled the sheets free.

Shaking, your hands trembled holding the once white documents as your voice thickened, “Is this… is this what I think it is?” Cocking his head playfully, that rueful smile pulling at his full mouth, Steve almost seemed cheerful as he teased, “It’s yours.  I think something about this place has always been yours and I want you to have it.” “But-” Folding your small hands in his mighty ones, Steve squeezed gently, “It was a wedding present, or it was supposed to be.” “But we’re not getting married.” “I know.  Still-” “I can’t, Steve.  It’s yours.  Your house, your farm, your dream.” Shaking his head, disagreeing, but feeling lighter than he had in decades, Steve insisted, “Too late, I’m afraid.  It’s done.  Actually, that version of the deed has been signed since our second week here.” As realization sunk in you appraised the man changing right before your eyes, astonished but exhilarated, “Where will you go?” “I dunno.  Think I might need to be alone for a bit.  Maybe see the world… but first-” “First, we have to stop Nick Fury.”

To Be Continued... My Minxes:   @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @iamverity​ @mizfit2​ @sammy-jo1977​ @wolfsmom1​ @jessiejunebug​ @iluvsumbucky​ @unadulteratedwizardlove​ @procrastinatinglikeabitch​ @shxdowofdarkness​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @crystalizedcaramel​ @lokislittlecorner​ @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81​ @caffiend-queen​ @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​ @jenjen8675309​ @that-one-person​ @roguewraith​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @just-random-obsessions​ @brokenthelovely​ @lots-of-loki​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​

[buckyownsmylife]

Holy Ground - Final Chapter

The one where Andy seems to have lost everything, but he’s not ready to give up.

A terrible car accident ruins Andy Barber’s idea of a perfect life. But if the love’s still there, why wouldn’t he retrace the steps that led him to his happy ending? After all, the best love stories were made to be written more than just once.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N: This is it, everyone. Thanks for sticking out and reading this very angsty whirlwhind of a fic, I hope it was worth it. 

Andy’s P.O.V.

“Hi, someone called me and said I had to get to the hospital. Did something happen? Is my wife okay?” The woman behind the counter smiled patiently at me, but it was a trained smile. I didn’t have the time or the patience for that.

“Calm down, sir. Tell me your wife’s name and then I can direct you to the doctor or her room.” The scene reminded me too much of my first arrival, the one where I was certain I would be told I’d lost everything. It was impossible to stop the anxiety from rising, and I could feel it, climbing my throat and threatening to suffocate me, as I spilled my last name to her.

I tried not to lose it as she checked a few documents with all the calm in this world, like nothing of importance was happening, like my heart wasn’t beating out of control. After what felt like too long, she finally addressed me again.

“There’s no indication of Mrs. Barber’s doctor asking for you… And the nurse who’s taking care of her is on her day off.” I blinked a few times, trying to process her words and failing.

“What does that mean?” I hated the way she looked at me, with pity and understanding. I was tired of being seen like that, a broken man with a broken wife amidst the shattered pieces of what used to be my life.

“It means your wife isn’t going through any serious risk. I’ll try to get in touch with Nurse Jane and see what that call was about. In the meantime, would you like to see Mrs. Barber?” That was a difficult question. Of course I did want to see her, that wasn’t the hard part about it. The problem was… should I?

She never tried to reach out ever since I drove her back to this hospital that morning, almost a week ago. I managed to get some answers about how she was thanks to said Nurse Jane and her doctor, but I didn’t try to talk to her ever since.

I didn’t know what to say. I knew what I wanted to say, of course. The entire truth. I wanted to teach her about the beautiful love story she’d starred by my side, but most of all, I wanted her to believe in me.

And I didn’t think that was possible with the way things were left between us.

I’d barely slept ever since that morning. The good thing about giving her some distance was that I was able to spend some time with our son, something I’d failed to do ever since his birth.

It wasn’t his fault, but he was born from the same accident that almost took his mother’s life. I couldn’t look at him and not think of her. I couldn’t look at him and not remember how wrong everything was, and how much worse it could have been.

But now he was all I had. And I feared this was what my life would be like, if Y/N never decided to give me another chance. So I decided to face my own trauma instead of running from it.

Today was the first time since Y/N left that I had to call the nanny to take care of him again. I spent the last five days with him at all times, trying to learn how to be a parent, trying to feel close to someone I’d decided to shut off before even giving a chance.

He didn’t deserve this father who wasn’t there. That wasn’t the father I wanted to be, anyway. And so I focused on giving him all I had - all of my attention, all of my care, all of my love. I had nothing but time, and I had a lot of it to compensate for.

To be honest, the part of me that still believed Y/N would recover her memory kept reminding me that she would never forgive me for those months of parental bonding I missed. But it wasn’t my fault either.

It didn’t feel right to cherish our son when she wasn’t able to do the same.

“Mr. Barber?” The voice of the nurse from before broke me out of my thoughts, and I blinked a few times in an effort to fully concentrate in the present again. “Would you like to see her?”

Despite everything, I knew the answer I would give.

“Yes.” Of course. “Yes, I want to see her.”

I followed the dutiful nurse down the path I knew all too well, not having it in me to explain to her how her guidance wasn’t necessary. I roamed these halls every night in my sleep and every morning until she left my house. I feared their white apathy would be ingrained in my brain cells for the rest of my life.

“There you go. I’ll leave you two alone.” It was silent when I joined her in the room she’d been living in ever since she got out of the coma. And still, she didn’t seem to hear my arrival - not the door opening and closing behind her, not the sound of my steps resonating through the almost empty room. She looked hypnotized by nothing at all, hand absentmindedly playing with her necklace as she stared at the wall.

“Hey.”  The word startled her, and her head whipped around to look at me, her eyes wide, but with no trace of anger.

“Andy?” I couldn’t figure out why, but the way she said my name sent shivers down my spine. She’d said it before, ever since she woke up - countless times. She said it in bed that night, and it still didn’t seem this sweet.

Perhaps the absence had made me more appreciative of it.

“Yeah.” I was scared of moving any closer to her, or saying anything that might provoke her anger. I knew she had the time to think about what had happened, but I had no idea how she felt about it all now. 

“I don’t mean to impose, I just… Someone from the hospital called me, I thought maybe something had happened to you. I’m glad you’re alright.” She nodded, a small smile on her face as silence fell between us again.

I’d grown to loathe the absence of sound in the time after the accident. At first, it was from the need to hear the beeps that reminded me she was alive. Then it was for its power to feed into my deepest fears and anxieties, my desperate concern of possibly losing her. And now, it was from the expectation that suspicion had become reality - she really didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.

“I can leave, if you want,” I offered, silently praying she wouldn’t take me up on it even as I waved towards the door. Much to my delight and surprise, her eyes widened and she reached out for my hand, as if stopping me from moving.

“No! No, don’t go.” And so we stood there, staring at each other, not knowing what to do until she asked, “Would you like to sit?”

I followed her to the small sofa in the room, still confused about what was happening. Each second that went by highlighted the differences in our situation, but I still couldn’t see it clearly. 

Just what was going on here?

She still held my hand as we sat next to each other, absentmindedly stroking it, her gaze on our laps. It felt just familiar enough to have hope rekindling inside my heart, burning bright inside of it to illuminate my entire being.

“Y/N…” I started, and when her eyes met mine, I unconsciously licked my lips in an effort to keep talking. “Were you the one who called for me?” In the time that she took to answer, the truth was already there, staring back at me. Her hands played with the necklace and when a smile began to form, I threw my arms around her, pulling her to my lap. 

“Oh my God.” She giggled against the crook of my neck, and it was like my heart stopped and I started living again, somehow. “It’s you,” I commented, cradling her face so I could look her in the eye. “It’s really you.”

My voice was so thick with emotion I could barely recognize it, but it didn’t take long until words were replaced by the language of desperate kisses, her hands fisting my shirt as I buried my fingers on her locks.

“What… How much do you remember?” I had to ask when I finally accepted that I needed to let us breathe, leaving her lips to rub our noses together delicately, our foreheadheads glued as I struggled not to lose control.

“There are still gaps,” she confessed, seemingly as unwilling to part from me as I was. “But I remember enough. I know you’re my husband and I know that was our son, and I want to go home, Andy. Please, take me home.”

And there it was, the feeling of wholeness, the lack of craving I never thought I’d have again. It was impossible to keep myself from crying then, but as my shirt became soaked, I knew I wasn’t the only one battling with emotions and dealing with them in the form of tears.

“Of course, darling. Let’s go home.” And running my hand over her cheek, brushing her tears away, I invited, “Let’s go meet our son.”

[uncrownedmox]

Dirty Secret

The Rigmarole: Mention of sexual contact / descriptive- dirty language. Swearing. Mox being a dominant cocky asshole. Sexual shenanigans (oral, male/female giving, toy play, alpha status) 18+ only.

Pairing. Dean Ambrose/Jon Moxley x OC

Rating. MC

Summary: When she looked at him she knew she was complete. She was HOME. They laughed and spent all their free time together. She wasn't surprised by the rumors, hurt yes but surprised no.

But he said not to worry, in the wrestling world, everything becomes a storyline sooner or later. That was fine with her. Sooner or later everyone will know who she is- the only thing she didn't plan on was the Shield. Or how looking at HIM made her into someone new, someone larger than life. She thought she was complete before? That she was home? Now..she knows better.

But now Evolution is back.. and that sledgehammer feels so heavy in her small hands.

(Actually, matches and timelines WON'T match up to this story. )

January 2013

Looking around she wasn’t sure where to go or who to speak to. The busy buzz of backstage was intimidating at best and people seemed only to be concerned in their own little bubble. Moving to the side as a fast-moving cart of clothing came flying by Catherine Jane Parks sighed and continued down the hallway.

Her long platinum hair was tied back into a loose braid and she had loose strands framing her face. Her light honey-colored eyes darting left and right until she came across a blonde woman standing around the round looking over a sheet of paper.

“Excuse me, Miss.” Keeping her voice light and hoping her confusion wasn’t too evident.

Watching as dark brown shot up to her and saw the surprise as the other woman took in her jeans and Nike hoodie. Smiling in what she hoped was a friendly matter CJ pushed forward.

“I was wondering if you could tell me where to find.” Pausing for a moment she had to remember what exactly to him.

Their relationship was so new and fragile that they had dared put a label on it. Digging out her phone from her back pocket she scrolled through some text messages and nodded silently when she came upon it. Looking back up at the blonde she smiles big.

“Hunter?”

She saw the blonde’s eyes go wide and dart from left to right then swallow hard. Then after a stale moment, she nods and chokes out softly as she points down the hallway. Licking her lips as she starts to speak and rolls the paper she had been looking at up in her hands.

“Down that hallway, take a left, third door on your right. Knock right- always knock first.”

Then she taps the rolled-up paper against her head as if she was reminding herself to do so. Nodding as she turned down the hallway CJ thanked her and made her way with the directions she was given. Coming up on the door she leaned her head against it for a moment. This would be only the second time they have met, and it took her breath away.

Knocking as she got herself back under control, hearing his rough voice call out in a biting command.

“Come.”

Smiling as she pushed the door open and slipped inside. He was sitting at a desk, in a dress shirt that was rolled up to his elbows. His eyes were focused on a piece of paper, but twitching to look at a laptop screen that was set up to his right. CJ simply leaned against the door and watched him for a few seconds.

Then his eyes flicker to her, a ghost of a smile graces his lips and gentles ask. “How was your flight?”

Kicking herself off the door and moving closer she settles into the plush chair that is across from his desk. Their eyes haven’t strayed from one another, they are both smiling like idiots now. There is so much to say and to do now that she is here, here with him.

“Good, I have never flown before so it was something else.”

She sees the surprise in his dark eyes, the hurt as well but she dismissed it. She doesn’t want regret or hurt between them. Reaching to lay a hand on top of his she squeezes lightly, hoping he understands. Smiling a little when a light shines in his dark eyes. Suddenly there is another knock on the door. Withdrawing her hand she sits back in the chair, almost ashamed. Smiling a little when he whispers out an apology and then bellows out.

“Come.”

Turning cause she is curious about his life and his business because she wants to be a part of everything that is him. She blinks in surprise as three rather large men come walking in, Hunter sighs and picks up the paper he had been looking at when she had came in.

“Joe, Colby, Jon, good good.” His eyes dart to her and she realizes that maybe she has overstayed her welcome?

Hitching her thumb towards the door in silent question and wanting to squeal in delight when Hunter shakes his head. She simply nods and tries to melt more into the chair. Hunter sighs and shakes the piece of paper at the three men.

“Care to tell me what this was about?”

Glancing back when she heard a deep sigh followed by a grunt. She saw the man in the middle close his eyes and rub at his temples, the man to his right just stared ahead, but the man on the left looked right at Hunter and muttered softly.

“Poor timing or self-defense?”

He said it so innocently CJ was almost convinced until she saw the glint of his hard blue eyes. The small kick of a smile on his lips, then a lock of his hair fell into those devilish eyes and CJ knew what he was. He was pure trouble. Moving without thinking about she made her way to stand by Hunter’s side. Not trusting Mr. Blue Eyes for a minute.

She was aware her movement had all four men looking at her in question. Shifting uncomfortably, she glanced down to see the paper Hunter was waving around at the three men in front of him.

A police report

Snorting softly, it would seem as Mr. Blue Eyes was a little troublemaker. Feeling his hard blue eyes on her she moved closer to Hunter, and keep on reading the report only stopping when Hunter spoke again.

“How do you claim self-defense, Good? She was an undercover cop.”

Mr. Blue Eyes, aka Good which she found hilarious because she only see him being good at being bad.

“Fine Entrapment then, fuck boss-man the things she said she could do with her pus.”

Eyes wide, mouth going dry. Watching as the guy in the middle slapped Mr. Blue Eyes in the chest and the other man grunted. Hunter raising out of his chair, a snarl on his lips.

“You watch your fucking mouth, Good. There is a Lady present.”

Mr. Blue Eyes blinks at Hunter then at her, all the while rubbing his chest. When goes to open his mouth Hunter snaps out.

“You all three are fined ten thousand dollars each, consider it a welcome to the big leagues.”

When Mr. Blue Eyes flares in either anger or disgust Hunter adds.

“The next time it will be fifty thousand and a suspension. I don’t give a fuck hot the Shield is right now. You will learn to play by my rules and understand that this is not the fucking indies- you understand me, Mox?”

Putting a hand on Hunter’s foreman she wasn’t sure if this was a normal business day for him or not but he seemed so invested in what was happening. That it got her blood pumping, when he cast her a look. She smiled big for him. When he shoots the three men another glance she can tell he is calmer.

“I know you’re still adjusting, especially you Jon. I told you once, listen to Joe okay. He may have the least amount of experience in the ring as you and Colby but damn it man you all can learn shit from one another.”

Nodding in satisfaction she beamed at him, letting go of his foreman she knew from her own background that wasn’t always peaches and cream.

“It’s all about being a team. Learning each other's weaknesses and strengths. It’s not always easy to let someone in or let pick at the scabs you have.”

All four men were looking at her again, blushing. She shrugged and picked up a pen from Hunter’s desk, and clicked a few times.

“Colton words, not mine.”

Mr. Blue Eyes asks and she can hear the amusement in his voice. Making air quotes with her fingers she murmured.

“My dad, ex-bad boy player extraordinaire.”

Mr. Blue Eyes actually laughs at her then sticks his hands into his jean pockets.

“Darlin you don’t know bad boy until you know me.”

Now she is laughing, so much so that she has to hang onto Hunter’s chair so she doesn’t fall.

“You a bad boy? Please!”

She totally misses the hardness that enters his blue eyes as he takes a step forward, the middle man jerks him back and grunts out.

“Leave her alone man, she is just a little girl.”

Snorting as Hunter opens his mouth but she adds.

“I and a group of my friends met Colton at Peru’s. He had just bent my mother over in the bathroom for fifteen minutes after a fight, didn’t know who in the hell I was so after some angry sex and seeing my mom talk to me he thought it would be cool to try to get with me in the same bathroom.”

Hunter is snarling and has her in his arms in a flash. She is laughing cause she thinks it’s so damn funny now. Mr. Blue Eyes is smirking saucy.

“He didn’t piece it together for a while and for a while I let him play the charmer. You, can’t outdo Colton Messer, my friend. No matter what you say or do.”

The third man finally speaks up in a low smooth voice.

“The Colton Messer?”

Nodding she laughs as he flinches and glances at his friend then sighs. He mumbles a second later.

“Yeah, Uce give over. If half that shit is true- not even Mox is as bad as he is.”

Nodding as she shyly snuggles deeper into Hunter’s embrace she watches blue eyes blink then narrow. He licks his lips then after a moment he shrugs, turns to face Hunter again.

“Okay fine, you tightened the leash on your new puppy. Can we go?”

Hunter only grunts, his hand is in her hair, his lips on her forehead and she finally knows what it’s like to be home.

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

Watching him across the room she can help the smile that graces her lips. Seeing him in this element is breathtaking, his wife Stephine stands beside him but she could care less about that. The woman doesn’t seem to care for CJ, and that’s just fine. Hunter keeps them separated most of the time, except when they are at shows.

WWE shows

At twenty-four CJ never thought she would be working for such a company. Currently, she is working with Mr. Maddox who is a pure gentleman and a delight. She has caught on quickly that the wrestling world isn’t like the outside world, or even the racing world. Colton was always trying to sucker into working for him after graduating from college this spring. Hunter had put his foot down and told her absolutely not.

Glancing at him again she couldn’t help but be proud. She was aware of the rumors backstage, Hunter and she hadn’t gone public with their relationship. Hunter was trying to give his wife as much as needed to adjust to having CJ around and in her face. But the rumors were there already.

They simply chose not to acknowledge them because in Hunter’s words.

I am sorry CJ, like it or not. I know Steph- you’ll be a storyline before long.

Then the nature of their relationship will come to light, some would doubt it she was sure of that. But Hunter promised to take care of things. And so far he had upheld all his promises to her.

Like never having to see Chase Beckett again.

Frowning at the thought of the man that almost ruined her life she blushed when Hunter suddenly met her gaze. His dark eyes weren’t soft and playful like they normally were but hard and cold. She had gotten used to seeing that look for the cameras for TV. Watching as he brought his cell phone up to his face she watched in slight concern as after a moment he hung up and looked away from her. His attention back on whatever his wife was talking about.

“That was strange.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, jumping slightly when a warm hand comes to rest on her right shoulder. Turning she comes face to face with one Dean Ambrose, whom she first met in Hunter’s office three weeks ago as Mr. Blue Eyes. Of course, she knows Dean is just his character’s name and his real name is Jon. But she still gets confused sometimes on what to call these guys.

“Mr.”

He doesn’t let her finish instead he gently takes her elbow in hand and starts to lead her out. They were at some charity event and blinked as his two friends flanked him as they near the door.

“No fuss and no noise sweetheart. Hunters command.”

The phone call

“But why?”

The question is out of her mouth before she realizes it, the man gliding her only grunts but when a reporter at the entrance calls out.

“Chase, can we get a word?”

Stiffing she tries to melt into three larger men, she hides the best she can. Once they make it out, pass the entrance and into a SUV she reaches in her purse and digs out her phone and hits a speed dial number.

“Yes?”

His voice is gruff and hard, but she can hear the concern under it. It makes her want to weep.

“Thank you.”

There is a pause then in a year of their relationship she finally whispers.

“Thank you so much and I love you.”

He sucks in a breath, and she starts to openly cry. His words are light and his voice is gentle.

“I love you too, CJ. Since the day I met you.”

She hears him hang up and she can’t stop crying because even with the hurdle of telling Hunter she loves him she feels so very much alone. A strong arm comes around her shoulders and she doesn’t even blink; she just turns into him and balls her eyes out.

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

May 2013

To say he has gotten used to being a WWE superstar is understatement. But he has watched and listened. After the fiasco in January, Joe had put the hammer down to their partying and he had cleaned up his act. Not that he was super bad to begin with.

Jonathan Good was a good man, or that’s what Colby and Joe says. Joe’s old lady swears by it too.

If you wasn’t I wouldn’t trust you with my daughter, you asinine.

Chuckling at the memory as he warmed up, they were coming off Mania season and anything could happen. He had no clue if the Shield’s thing with Sheamus, Big Show, and Randy Orton was completely done or not. Then inside of his brain snarls and pokes at him. He wouldn’t tell a soul about this- about how bad he is hurting because being handed a scripted for every promo kills him.

The snarling and poking inside of him, he knows is from his creative side. It’s a side that has mashed into his old Mox character and the fucker is still breathing and living deep in his soul.

But he is trying to cut it out, slowly and carefully. And, it feels like, with a dull ass spoon. Certain things don't help, either. Namely the little young number that is currently his boss' side piece.

Since that back in January he has kept a loose eye on her. CJ Parks even landed herself a job as a personal assistant to Greg Maddox. That he mused, was an injustice, all by itself. But who was he to say otherwise, one of the perks of fucking the boss man he supposed.

Looking over at Joe he put it out there.

“A what-if for you.”

It’s a game they play, Joe was quick to catch on it helped with his mental state at times. So six month into their run, having become closer, the bigger man only grunts as he sits down and slips on his boots.

“If you were the princess. Wouldn’t it piss you the high off that your hubby was keeping his younger side piece in your face all the damn time.”

After all he mused Hunter had called him and his boys from their charity interview a while back to pull his babygirl out of the whole event for some odd reason. Colby butts in with.

“Maybe it’s an open arrangement?”

Looking at Joe specifically he asked more heatedly.

“But I mean, the age- wouldn’t it be like robbing the cradle or something?”

Joe chokes on thin air and shakes his head, Jon can see the smile he is sporting though. The is a knock on the door and when whoever doesn’t wait for an all clear it speaks volumes. Watching as Hunter himself slips into the locker room, Jon plops down and reaches for the tape out of his bag. It doesn’t take Hunter long to get to the point.

“Tonight you boys will seek out Maddox for a new challenge. However he will get wind of it, and high tail it out of here. That leaves you dealing with his assistant.”

Sighing softly so this was why the personal face to face. Hunter wanted to make sure they treated his side piece with kid gloves. Fair enough, he supposed, they could-

“Ambrose I want you to go full throttle on her.”

Blinking in total surprise and a little shock, he nodded.

“Sure I can- WAIT. What?”

Joe snickers at him and Colby clunks down beside him in a hurry. Hunter only grunts then raises a hand and rubs it over his domed head.

“If you can get her to shed some tears even better. Dip into Mox if you have too but keep it PG. Cause this where things are going to get interesting boys, seems like Dave is coming back. And well since Randy is still wanting some of you boys.”

Colby is leaning forward like a kid on Christman morning. His eyes are lit up and sparkling up but Jon can’t seem to care because he can’t seem to wrap his mind around Hunter wanting him to cut a promo on his side piece. And not just any promo. Suddenly Hunter's words break through his thoughts.

“That’s right Evolution will be reborn next week.”

Shaking his head he drops his tape and snaps out.

“Hunter are you sure, you want me to cut a promo on your girl? I mean..?”

Hunter gives him a hard look then stands, looks at his watch and nods. Moves towards the door, all without looking back at him.

“You have one hour Jon. And three takes to get it done. Don’t disappoint me Jon.”

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

The Shield finds Maddox's assistant in their joint office, her pretty long platinum hair is twisted into a messy bun that has chopstick sticking out of it. Her eyes look so fucking delicious behind a pair of reading glasses. She is on her cell phone, her eyes go wide and big when she sees them.

Dean gives her credit for standing when they file into the office room. He barks out.

“Where is Maddox?”

She physically flinches and replies to whoever is on the phone.

“Mr. Hemsley one moment if you please.”

An errant “Jon” thought crosses his mind.

Do you call him that behind closed doors baby?

Dean quickly pushes it away, there is no time or space for Jonathan Good or Jon Moxley in the here or now. This, THIS right now belongs to him- belonged to Dean Ambrose. He won’t screw it up again. Never again.

“Gentlemen how may I assist you tonight?”

The Mox in him howls and begs at his control, they had rehearsed the promo earlier. It had taken all three tries to get, he not happy with the first- she the second. And now here was another damn character in his head wanting to detail the whole damn thing. With something that clearly wasn’t PG. That clearly would get him fired.

“Little girl, you can’t assist me with what I want.”

And there it was. Jesus Fucking Christ. Not only did he see the surprise in her honey colored eyes but he FELT the surprise in his teammates. Shifting the US Championship belt on his shoulder he grinded his teeth together, how in the fuck to save this?

“What you can give me, and my boys, what we want!”

Okay that was a little better, at least it was getting them back on track. Then to his horror he saw something flash in those shiny golden eyes, saw her lips form in o pout and the tilt of her head as she looked him dead in the eye and leaned forward.

“Nope!”

His mind blanked.

Time stilled.

When it picked back up and he reacted it wasn’t Dean Ambrose that snarled back, almost happily.

“I was hoping you would say that, doll.”

As quick as lightning his hand shot out, tangled itself, her messy bun hair do and brought her smashing up against his body and her lips up against his.

Jonathan Good knew as the cameraman called out that they were all clear that he was good as fucked. The question was, did he care?

[fresh-prince-of-denmark]

Analysis of the Devil Ending: Who Died and Left Aristotle In Charge of Ethics? (Pt 5)

Hello and welcome back to me over-analyzing everything in Cyberpunk. If you haven’t read my other posts, please read those first! (V’s Mikoshi Poem, Johnny’s Mikoshi Poem, The Sun, New Dawn Fades).

This part took me a lot longer to complete. Not because it was particularly long…it was just painful. Jesus Christ. I hated every second of this ending. That shit hurted.

There were a few shards located at Arasaka’s estate that I chose to skip, as I did not find ant that were unique to the location. The three the game seemed to want to draw your attention to were actually not scattered as shards, they were spoken-word. The only shard I was able to find was a portion of The Odyssey. The other two pieces of literature are In Kyoto, which is quoted to V by the guard to takes her to the hospital room, and (what I believe to be) a reference to Plato’s The Allegory of the Cave. This section is going to be super theoretical. Like, more theoretical than the rest. So bare with me please.

Let’s start easy. This is the poem that the guard quotes at V as he leads her out of the operating room:

In Kyoto,

hearing the cuckoo,

I long for Kyoto

(By: Basho, translated by Jane Hirshfield)

Ten words. What could ten words amount to? The saddest goddamn words you’ll ever hear, dammit.  This poem is a feeling more than a concept. Ever feel homesick when you haven’t gone anywhere? Lonely when you’re around other people? That’s V. This was supposed to be a victory, supposed to be what they wanted. But now Johnny’s gone, scorned and betrayed, and no one they calls seems to even be able to give V the time of day. This was supposed to be a victory, their way of going back to the way things were, getting their life back, going home. But we can never go back, can’t ever erase our experiences, what we learn, how we grow. As Misty says, we should not fear change in of itself, but who we might change into. This just goes to show what happens when we betray ourselves by rejecting our own growth: all that’s left is bitterness and sorrow.

The next day when V wakes, you can pick up a shard containing a section from Chapter 8 of The Odyssey. Now, I’m not too familiar with the Odyssey. In fact, I hate the Odyssey. So if anyone wants to jump in here and add something more intelligent, I’m all for it. The Odyssey is the tale of Odysseus, who has been trying for ten long years to return to his wife and son after the Trojan war. Odysseus is basically listening to a bard remind him of all his Trojan War trauma, and begins to weep, at which time time people start questioning what’s up with this guy:

Say what thy birth, and what the name you bore,

Imposed by parents in the natal hour?

(For from the natal hour distinctive names,

One common right, the great and lowly claims:)

Say from what city, from what regions toss'd,

And what inhabitants those regions boast?

So shalt thou instant reach the realm assign'd.

In wondrous ships, self-moved, instinct with mind;

No helm secures their course, no pilot guides;

Like man intelligent, they plough the tides,

Conscious of every coast and every bay,

That lies beneath the sun's all-seeing ray;

Though clouds and darkness veil the encumber'd sky,

Fearless through darkness and through clouds they fly;

Though tempests rage, though rolls the swelling main,

The seas may roll, the tempests may rage in vain,

E'en the stern god that o'er the waves presides,

Safe as they pass, and safe repass the tides,

With fury burns; while careless they convey

Promiscuous every guest to every bay,

These ears have heard my royal sire disclouse

A dreadful story, big with future woes;

How Neptune raged, and how, by his command,

Firm rooted in a surge a ship would stand

A monument of wrath; how mound on mound

Should bury these proud towers beneath the ground.

But this the gods may frustrate or fulfill,

As suits the purpose of the Eternal Will.

But say through what waste regions hast thou stray'd

What customs noted, and what coasts survey'd;

Possess'd by wild barbarians fierce in arms,

Or men whose bosom tender pity warms?

Say why the fate o Troy awaked thy cares,

Why heaved thy bosom, and why flowed thy tears?

Reading this made me feel just how tired V must be. All this fighting, all this war, and for what? Much like Odysseus, V has been through hell and back (literally, depending on how you see it). And it never seems to end. V has been fighting for so long, yet there’s always something more; the tests the doctor gives her are endless, and they’re always being asked to do more, over and over again, with no results or end in sight. Odysseus is teetering on despair; nothing he does seems to do will ever be enough, just like V. The world will just take and take and take. It’s exactly what V’s poem asserts in Mikoshi; the world cannot be fixed, and resistance is futile. You can’t change how corporations rule the world, and as a protestor states on the TV in the hospital room, the rich have no boundaries or morals, and we are powerless to stop them from taking whatever they want. They can take not only our souls, but our bodies, devour them in order to prolong their own lives. Johnny would, of course, disagree. Even a slap in the face to The Man is better than submitting to a corpo-leash, even if that is the easier path. And in fact, he may be right, since it seems taking Hanako’s offer is the conformist path, and the only one that leads to Saburo coming back.

But Johnny isn’t there anymore to walk the rebel path at their side. No more guardian angel to whisper when they it most to never stop fighting.

There’s a lot more we could go into here with the Odyssey; comparing Arasaka to the story of Polyphemus and the cave, talking about themes of passion vs. commitment, yadayadayada. I hate the Odyssey so that can be someone else’s problem tbh.

The final piece is what the doctor asks V to read as one of their tests. Now, on surface-level, this is foreshadowing if V will choose to stay in their body, or be turned into an engram. It’s laughing at them, really, both pitying and mocking the fact that they believe they have a choice, since either way they’re once again at the mercy of the rich and powerful:

“And it was a sight to behold, he said, how a soul would choose its life; sometimes pitiable, sometimes laughable at times wonderful and strange. For in most cases, the souls made their choice according to the habits of a former life.”

I couldn’t find where this was from, or if it was a quote from anything. But googling it does bring up Plato’s Allegory of The Cave, which I thinks tracks pretty well. I found a quote from this chapter of Plato’s The Republic, which is strikingly similar in meaning. For the sake of my sanity, lets assume that this quote is referencing this one from Plato:

“And he will count the one happy in his condition and state of being, and he will pity the other; or, if he have a mind to laugh at the soul which comes from below into the light, there will be more reason in this than in the laugh which greets him who returns from above out of the light into the cave.”

If you’re unfamiliar with the allegory of the cave, it’s a philosophical discussion from Plato’s The Republic. It’s about how human perception is limited, and so true knowledge comes from the self via philosophical reasoning. Much like humans imprisoned in a cave with only shadows as their entire world, we cannot imagine the true world outside the cave until we leave to see it for ourselves.  Those who are freed from this limited reasoning have a duty to go back and free others, subjecting them to the full experience of awakening; both the pain and the triumph it entails. V starts out with a limited perception of things; a surface-level world, never stopping to see the bigger picture, until Johnny comes along and encourages them to question the status quo. In all other endings, V accepts this enlightenment. They challenge Arasaka, and try to follow Johnny’s legacy and Stick It To the Man. Yet if they accept Hanako’s offer in an attempt to return to “the habits of a former life,” they are rejecting this new understanding, refusing to leave the cave and live in ignorant bliss. This, I believe, is where Johnny’s true feeling of betrayal comes from: not because he’s being shredded, and not because he thinks V doesn’t know any better. V learned and changed just as much as he did, and this growth was something they were able to gift to one another. Johnny is proud of his change, proud to be someone trusted by V, proud at a second chance not to fuck things up. When V gives him control to go with Rogue to Arasaka, he’s ecstatic to prove himself worthy of that trust, to prove that he’s changed. Yet V, the person who aided in that change, is now actively ignoring and rejecting their own growth, and thus is betraying themselves. By not using their enlightenment to actively oppose the status quo and rebel, they are choosing the side of the oppressor by default.

Some of her last words if you choose not to sign the contract are to Goro, “You have no idea how good it feels to be free.” But the truth is, V is not free, and now they will never be free. By walking the path they have, they are choosing willful ignorance, stubbornly clinging to the darkness of the cave because it is easier to convince oneself that they are not a prisoner at all than it is to leave the comfort of one’s chains. Either way, they are caged, even if the bars the rich and powerful build around her are clear instead of solid. Her so-called freedom (and knowledge) is pure illusion — shadows depicted on a cave wall.

[justfandomwritings]

A list of possible ways to make Twilight better that don’t involve changing the whole plot, writing about an entirely different character in the universe, or getting rid of any of the main characters:

- Bella is actually kind and respectful to Charlie not just behind his back when she’s protecting him from threats he’s unaware of like vampires but also to his face when he’s clearly trying to do his best to be a good dad.

- We get to hear a phone call between Charlie and Renee about how ill adjusted Bella is after years of being her own parent.

- Bella names her truck “Monster Mash” after the collision with Tyler and Edward being a vampire.

- Jessica totally sees Edward jump over the back of Bella’s truck, as he does so at human speed and is blatantly obvious about it. She thinks it’s weird. She’s constantly aware of Edwards presence and she knows for a fact he wasn’t there. Jessica starts picking up on some of the little inconsistencies in the Cullens behaviors and the lies Bella’s telling. She sees Bella post transformation while she’s still around town during the “prepping to encounter the Volturi” days. Now she knoooows something’s up. Bella wasn’t this graceful or pale or perfect before. She looks like a damn Cullen. Jessica begins to put the pieces together exactly like Bella did. Jessica tries to talk to someone about it but everyone brushes her off. She slowly descends into what she thinks is madness believing vampires are real but having no confirmation and no one to believe her.

- Jane very visibly pouts when Bella doesn’t collapse screaming. Alice starts laughing because of a vision of Jane having a temper tantrum later.

- Leah imprints on Angela. Bella now has a normal human friend with a normal human friendship and she’s a bit more grounded and a bit less supernatural obsessed. Also, with this, imprints are clearly no longer about procreating and are more than just baby making machines.

- Rosalie goes and after those guys from Port Angeles. She doesn’t eat them; she has impeccable control, after all. She dumps them in a bear’s cave or something and lets an animal take care of them.  

- The Cullens play baseball incessantly instead of other sports because back in the day Carlisle helped invent it.

- An incredibly awkward conversation between Charlie and Billy where Charlie is hesitant because he’s not 100% sure Billy knows his son turns into a wolf, but once he is sure Billy knows, he’s very confused how the hell, genetically, Jacob turns into a wolf and has to question what Billy’s been up to that his son is half animal and Billy has to give him the legends now too. 

- James was actually the ex-Volturi tracker that was replaced by Demetri’s superior skills. 

- Alice’s sister also had gifts as a human though hers were geared towards the past, and the reason Alice can’t remember anything is because her sister made her forget her past. 

- In general, I think we need more members of the Volturi as a whole (there’s really not that many of them when you think they’re basically ruling the world) and more superpowers, because as it stands there’s actually only two of the Volturi with offensive gifts related to fighting, Alec and Jane, and that really confuses the intimidating reputation the guard have. There should absolutely be more of them with more powers if they’re meant to be as intimidating as they are and in charge of every vampire everywhere.

- Edward’s little power trip in New Moon actually has lasting repercussions on his relationships with his family. He doesn’t just come back and magically all is forgiven. His actions actually have consequences.

- Other vampires get called in to help in the fight in Eclipse This way, we get to expand the universe more, earlier in the books; we get to learn about another set of vampires in more detail and not just as part of one massive cluster; and Breaking Dawn isn’t just a barrage of new faces. We actually know some of them. For instance, Jasper could call in Peter and Charlotte at the least; they’ve both already fought newborn armies before and calling them actually makes more sense than the Denali coven.

- Esme is actually an extremely famous architect who works under an alias so that as time passes people won’t get suspicious when she has the same name as that famous, old architect from back in the day. 

- The Volturi wife that dies isn’t Didyme; it’s Athenadora, and she’s killed by the werewolves that attacked Caius, which is why Caius has eradicated them and why he’s so willing to fight the Cullens over the presence of wolves.

- The guard of the Volturi aren’t all just being held together by Chelsea. Some of them actually believe in their professed purpose of ensuring the secrecy of vampires to protect their kind. 

- Benjamin and Tia don’t go back with Amun and Kebi after Amun peace’s out like a coward.

- Literally anyone acknowledges that the Volturi aren’t really the bad guys in New Moon since Edward is the one breaking the law, and that Bella being human in Eclipse is the Cullens still subverting the law, and that as a result the Volturi have pretty good cause to believe the Cullens are breaking the law again in Breaking Dawn.

[imaginepirates]

James going out with some of his men would include...

For the anon who wanted a story about Gillette and Groves dragging James out for a night of fun: I’m all too happy to deliver. (We’re going to assume that he’s a captain, at this point, given everything that happened just after his promotion wouldn’t leave time for much).

@emdrabbles​ @tesserphantom​ @paljonkaikenlaista​ @viper-official​ @wordsinwinters​ @groovyfluxie​ @hellspawn-brownies​

James isn’t even remotely aware that any one of his men would have the idea of asking him to do something with them. He feels socially isolated from them, which is how he figures it should be. He’s their commanding officer; they should be able to look up to him, and he fears that being too close to them will make him lose their respect.

Still, Groves gets up the nerve to ask James to go out with them one day. James, of course, is caught completely off guard. He never expected his men to try and include him in anything, given his station, and given the fact that he hasn’t been particularly friendly with any of them.

James hates the idea. He hates the idea of losing any sort of control over himself, even if in the company of “friends”. He’s afraid to make himself look like a fool in any capacity, and that his presence will make things awkward for the usual company. He knows that he’s stiff, that he doesn’t relax well around others. He figures his presence will dampen the mood.

He tries to politely decline, but Groves is insistent that he comes along. Groves figures that James could use a drink, and that the paperwork isn’t going anywhere. He says as much, too, which James can’t entirely deny, because with his position, he could use a lot of drinks, and he doesn’t particularly want to do tedious paperwork all evening.

“Pardon me for saying, Captain, but I think it would be good to spend some time with your men.”

What Groves means, of course, is that James needs to loosen up before he completely exhausts himself. And that James could use a friend or two.

James figures, at this point, that it might be rude not to accept, so he agrees to come along, if not entirely willingly.

Groves is screaming internally with victory, and he drags James out of his office to tell the others. They’re game for it, of course, having talked the idea over for ages. They’re all trying to hide smiles, and James is trying to hide the growing mortification he feels.  He knows he doesn’t fit in with them, and it shows.

They manage to make it to a tavern without incident, chatting along the way. Groves makes sure that they keep James close, but that they don’t directly engage him unless he wants to talk. James appreciates that he doesn’t seem to be interrupting anything, and for once, he’s not the center of attention. It comes as a relief.

Being at the tavern is a whole different story. Once they arrive, a thousand worries cross his mind. He wouldn’t know anyone, of course, but what if he did, and what if they told anyone, and…… The man has anxiety. He’s afraid that someone will catch him at this, like it’s a crime to be at a tavern.

Groves simply puts a hand on his shoulder as he notices James paling. James still feels awkward entering the tavern. He knows that people will recognize him, of course. He’s a fairly well-known man, and being somewhat in the public eye, he knows that there will be those who are surprised to see him.

The bartender greets the group, being the regulars they are. They probably eye James, but they wouldn’t say anything.

Each man in the group has their roles. Gillette, of course, is the one who regails everyone else with impossible feats and bawdy tales. Groves calls Gillette on his shit, and is, shockingly, the responsible one in the group. Unshockingly, Gillette is the one who drinks the most, though he somehow manages to never make a complete fool of himself, other than by flirting with servers.

James sits there, sipping at an ale, listening to the others, mildly amused by their antics. He starts to relax as he realizes that nothing is expected of him. He doesn’t have to act a certain way, or say anything.

For the first time in his life, he actually learns who his crewmates are outside of the Navy. He never knew about their families--their children and wives and siblings. He doesn’t know their hobbies, or who they were seeing, or who their friends were. It’s refreshing for him to learn more about them, and opens his eyes a little.

He’s shocked that Groves isn’t seeing anyone, given his station and the fact that, to James, he’s perhaps the most tolerable of all the other members of his ship. That there isn’t a woman he has his eye on surprises James, and shocks Gillette, who thinks that Groves deserves a nice young lady because the company of such is lovely indeed.

Those of the table who know shoot Groves sympathetic looks, especially due to Gillette’s interest in women.

Gillette is actually a raging bisexual, but is oblivious, and hasn’t thought that there was any need to broach the subject. This causes Groves a whole lot of unnecessary angst.

I will go down with this ship, I swear.

Groves offers James another drink, and though he tries to refuse on the basis that he’ll be working the next morning, Groves points out that they all will be, so James will be fine.

“How long’s it been since you’ve had a proper drink, anyway?”

James gives in, and ends up telling some stories about his time as a captain while he was stationed in England at Groves’ prompting. Everyone listens, enraptured, to James’ tales. He seriously downplays his own part in them. The group is impressed anyway.

The girl serving the table plays right along with Gillette’s flirting, but she drops teasing remarks at all of the boys present.

James is a little embarrassed, but he’s more embarrassed that he actually doesn’t mind being flirted with. In fact, he rather likes it. He could never, of course, admit to such a thing, but he appreciates the way she looks, and even more the way she looks at him.

Look, sometimes, he needs to know that people are interested.

However, he’s a level of repressed only known to Jane Austen novels, so he makes no advances, and doesn’t flirt back, only accepts her compliments with a gracious smile.

The others notice, of course, but they keep it to themselves. They can see the heat rising under James’ collar.

At some point, a group of drunkards decides, rather loudly, that they won’t be paying their bill. They also decide to be handsy with the server, who clearly isn’t having it.

James lets the farce go on for about a minute before standing, walking over to the table, ripping a man’s hand off the server, and, in his coldest, most commanding Naval voice, hisses at them to pay and leave.

Needless to say, they do. The fact that James can sober up that fast and intimidate an entire group of drunks says a lot. Mostly, it reminds his own men why they have such a healthy respect for him in the first place.

The server is grateful, but also has no problem telling James that she had things perfectly under control.

“I had that covered. You didn’t need to worry about it.”

“It’s the least I can do. There’s no need for you to take care of everything yourself.”

She seems amused, but in a pleasant way. She gives James a little kiss on the cheek, resting her hands on his chest, and he goes absolutely tomato red.

For the naval boys, the scene is an absolute riot, and they love every second of it. They know that they’ll never be allowed to bring it up ever again, but they relish the sight of their commanding officer at such a loss.

James manages to make it back to the fort, a little unsteadily, and dearly flushed. The group is all smiles, even the horribly tipsy Gillette, who somehow managed to understand the whole situation while drunk.

James knows that he’ll never live the moment down, but is secretly glad that he joined his crew. It was a much better way of spending his time than doing paperwork.

Upon return to his office, he finds a small napkin tucked into a pocket of his coat. It says “next drink is on the house”. James flushes even worse at that, glad to be alone in his study. He figures it was planted on him during the kiss.

And the next time the group goes out, James joins them. They’re surprised, but glad to have him along, and he’s glad that accept him how he is instead of how he always forces himself to be.

In the end, it’s a win-win situation for everyone involved. Even, over the course of several visits, the server, who enjoys teasing James greatly.

[beebubb]

sherry (my oc) and her life and relationships with the pastas

(involves self shipping and a bit of toby x clockwork, so if you don't like that kind of thing, you can always see my other stuff:))

Likes learning about magic, witchcraft, and religion. But doesn't like it when someone pushes her into being part of a religion if she doesn't want to.

DESPISES her family's catholic religion. Sense her uncles, cousins, and grandparents would shame her for anything that was "against god"

Her family hated her when she told them she didn't believe in god, but hated her even more when she came out to them.

She actually respects all religions and doesn't mind if you believe in god, she just mocks her own family. So don't take anything personally

Mocks their religion a lot and started getting amused seeing them angry

Grandpa: wearing revealing clothes is a sin!

-next day-

Sherry: *wearing booty shorts, tank top, and dancing in the house to "inappropriate" music* oh. No!! I should go change! I wouldn't want sky daddy to get mad at me! I can't believe how sinful I'm being!

Her first time in the mansion

When she first arrived to the mansion. She was really shy. She wasn't agressive like, at all.

The only people she opened up to first was jane, ben, and masky

She would keep her distance a lot but jane was pretty much who comforted her sense she had a very nice and caring vibe to her

Would watch ben play. Ben would offer her to play COD but she would prefer watching

She found masky's presence comforting sense he was the oldest and most responsable and felt safe with him

Masky interrogated her sense they always need to make sure that newcomers aren't zalgoid spies or any threat to slender and the others.

She stayed in the mansion freely for around 3-4 months. But during those few months, slender would have her do certain tasks to see strengths and weaknesses (this is also normal for newcomers)

She adapted pretty quickly to the others there

Her first time working and being an official pasta

She had been given a choice to either just kill and stalk whoever slender tells her to (aka part time proxy) or be a full time proxy, which involves much more skill like stalking, killing, cleaning and getting rid of evidence, set traps, hack, etc. She ended up choosing full time proxy sense she was a huge forensics nerd.

Masky, hoodie, and toby trained her

The most difficult part of her training was improving her cardio sense she didn't know how to properly control her breathing while running which meant she would easily get tierd.

She has better cardio now but if she gets into stressful situations or runs for way too long, she'll get tierd. Her only advantage is that she's good at hiding. So if they leave her behind or can't catch up, they don't worry sense they know she can hide

It took her around 3 months to train and then be called an official full time proxy

Her relationships with the pastas

Jeff: they're friends. They became friends because of ben. Jeff would play with ben a lot, but sherry became ben's second gaming buddy so soon they started hanging out.

Ben: she likes ben but doesn't show it sense she doesn't want to ruin their friendship. Even though ben is seen as a bit of a slacker or stupid; sherry and the others knows that ben is actually really smart; and she likes that about him. Also she likes how he would always try his best to include her in things so she wouldn't be left out.

EJ: they're ok with each other. They get along enough to be ok living with each other. They haven't really hung out or had an actual conversation to get to know each other, so they're ok with each other as long as they don't piss each other off or try something

LJ: they're ok as well. They haven't spoke much sense LJ doesn't really live or work with slenderman sense he lives at the apartments with william. The only time they really talked was when sherry introduced herself and from there nothing.

Jane: her best friend. Even though jane is a killer, she acts like a normal person. And sherry likes that. They've gone shopping together, had spa/self care days, talked, etc. Also jane was always there for her when she was new, so, she feels more attached (jane had a slight crush on her but it later went away after she knew sherry liked ben)

Nina: best friends too. She likes nina's crackhead energy. Also nina helped her be more open and fun. Nina, sherry, and jane hang out a lot.

Toby: they're co-workers that get along well. She's a proxy too so she tries her best to get along with the other proxies. They haven't really hung out much either but have small talk while working. Also sometimes she gives him love advice for clockwork.

Hoodie: friends. He later on opened up to him as well sense she saw masky trusted him so she knew she could trust him too.

Masky: they're good friends and respects him. He was the one that dedicated himself more (along with hoodie) to train her. Also he was the first one to give her an alcoholic drink when they celebrated a new proxy arrival. Also she lets him borrow money sense he's usually broke

Slenderman: respects him a lot. She is forever grateful that slender took her in and gave her a home, a job, and an actual family even if they aren't related by blood

Clockwork: they just get along. They don't really hang out much sense clockwork spends more time with toby. They've had a few small conversations but nothing more from there

Sally: absolutely adores her. She likes playing with her sense it reminds her when she was little and would play with her mom. Sherry protects her and can relate to her sense she knows what it's like to be sexually abused at a young age.