#when the EXACT SAME SHIT was used to get the WORST MAN ALIVE into office before????
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Anyone who tries telling you that both parties are the same and there is no point in voting? Has a fucking agenda, and it's a nasty one.
Do the Dems disappoint me? Yes, constantly. Do I have gripes with Biden? 100%.
Do I also recognize that he has GOTTEN SHIT DONE and that those things are like. NOT talked about by people my age because it feels better to be angry and constantly demanding better while being unwilling to put up with Average Joe who is ACTUALLY doing things that progressives have been asking for for AGES (putting caps on medication prices, working to cancel student and medical debt, investing in infrastructure and going after inflation, started working on protecting reproductive rights after Trump put in place the shitty judges who wrecked Roe, is trying to go after how weed is scheduled and pardoned all federal offenses, et-fucking-cetera).
Not only do I actually LIKE some of the shit Biden is doing? If Trump gets back in office? People will die. He and his have been OPEN about the fact that they want to go (somehow) even MORE fascist.
Fucking vote. Anyone telling you not to has your worst interests at heart. Be as pissed off as you want, but fucking VOTE. Because we have a chance of continuing to push a president like Biden towards the change we want to see. We have ZERO chance of that with Trump, or someone like him.
#us politics#look as a queer disabled Jew who is also trans#i am getting REAL fucking sick of people talking about how Biden is shit like#he has done so much stuff#I have my fucking complaints about the guy but anyone acting like he's done nothing is either a complete fucking nimrod#or someone who is probably a fucking troll#like we KNOW that people tried to influence the previous election online#we KNOW people tried to fucking fuck with our election process via online trolling and making accounts and saying shit like this#HOW are we still buying into this uwu all parties are the same#when the EXACT SAME SHIT was used to get the WORST MAN ALIVE into office before????
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An Artful Revenge pt. 6 (Feysand)
Part of the Damnation series.Â
Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
This is the last part of this fic! Gonna work on some asks next, then start the Nessian story (see the link above for details)Â

~Feyre~
Men, in general, are beyond stupid.
I honestly donât even know how the male population is still around.
I mean sure, they have their moments. Fire? Pretty cool.Â
Maybe I should amend my statement: Men are stupid when it comes to women.
Because if Tamlin had any common sense, he would wonder why I drag myself into his office downtown, the day after I found out who he really is.
Heâd wonder how I even found his posh little office, since he sure as hell never told me about it. (Answer: Rhysand).Â
Heâd wonder why Iâm crying and having an emotional breakdown, but am still dressed in a lowcut dress with my hair done. (Answer: men are even stupider when it comes to a woman with exposed breasts).Â
But he doesnât.
He sees me stumbling toward him, a mess of tears and fluffy hair, and jumps to his feet, coming to my rescue.
His arms wrap around me miraculously at the same time my legs give out, and I fall into him dramatically.Â
That was a little much, but what can I say? I was a theatre kid.
âFeyre,â he says calmly, stroking my hair like he didnât insult me twenty-four hours ago. In fact, heâs acting like we didnât even break up. âWhatâs wrong?â
I press my face in his shoulder, trying not to think about how wrong this feels, how wrong he smells.Â
Rhysand smells like citrus and the sea and something so manly it makes my knees go weak for real. Tamlin smells like dirt and bad decisions.Â
âYou were right.â Itâs something all men love to hear a woman say, even though itâs hardly ever true. âYou were so right, Tamlin.â
He pulls back and runs a thumb over my cheek, swiping a tear away.Â
His green eyes question mine, so calm and understanding compared to yesterdayâs rage. His hands are gentle as they cradle my face, and I want them off off off.
âHeâs a monster,â I wail, dredging up some more tears. Knowing there needs to be more of a concrete reason for my breakdown, I make some pretty seedy shit up. âHe... killed his driver! Because he took a wrong turn!â
Gods, Feyre. Really?
I can practically see Rhysand rolling his eyes. Heâd see through my lies in a second.Â
Tamlin, however, bites the bait... more like he swallows the whole damn line.
He hugs me again, so tight my feet leave the floor, and I go limp against him, pressing all the soft parts of me against the hardness of his chest.
Donât get me wrong, Tamlinâs attractive. Wide shoulders, surfer boy hair, tan skin, and green eyes that look like the deepest of emerald.Â
But he also is a fucking asshole, and everything about him irritates me.
Itâs crazy, I think as his hands slip lower on my back, that yesterday he called me a whore, and now he wants to sleep with me.
Prick.
âTamlin,â I sigh against his neck.
âItâs okay, baby. Iâve got you.â
I almost throw up at the little pet name, but I nod and act like heâs the greatest thing on this planet, the godsâ personal gift to all things women.
But then he kisses me, and I get tired of this little charade.Â
I keep my eyes open as his warm lips meet mine, wanting to see his face as the needle sinks into his skin.
His eyes fly open, and he drops me to my feet roughly, a hand pressed against his neck. Itâs too late, of course.
Whatever black market shit this is, it works fast.Â
His legs give out, and I shove his shoulder so he lands in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk.Â
âFeyre,â he growls, no longer happy to see me, âWhat the fuck are you doing?â
I roll my eyes, because even the dumbest of men should be able to figure that out my now.Â
Youâd think heâd pass out or be too paralyzed to talk, but just like Rhysand promised me, the drugs have paralyzed him from the neck down but left him perfectly conscious.Â
I want him to see exactly what Iâm doing.
Straightening my dress, I saunter over to his desk, eyes scanning the messy papers and folders for what I want.
Three rings, the exact copy of Rhysandâs, sit in a glass box, the shining titanium making them look like treasure. And they are.
But theyâve been here fucking long enough.Â
I try to open the box, but itâs locked, so I sigh and grab a paperweight, then smash it to bits.
âYou do this, Feyre, and Iâll come after you.â
âOoooh, scary,â I deadpan, completely writing him off in a way I know drives him crazy.
Glass flies everywhere, but I just grab the rings and put them on whatever fingers theyâll fit on.Â
Yet another piece of evidence men are idiots: I was wearing Rhysandâs ring when I walked in here.
A small detail, sure, but when I took that ring from him yesterday in his car, I made a vow to never take it off.
Itâs a little big, resting on my thumb, but itâs perfect.Â
It means Iâm his, and heâs mine.
âHe might have Chicago, but Iâll make youâre life miserable!â
âYou did that for two years,â I remind him with a smile.
Then I set the radio exactly like Iâd been told to, turn back to Tamlin, punch him square in the jaw, and smile when I hear a crunch.
That wasnât exactly part of the plan, but I was tired of his threats.Â
He howls in pain, and I know it makes me meaner than an adder, but I blow him a kiss and laugh as I walk out of his office.Â
A sleek black sedan, driven by the very much alive Rolando (Iâve officially stopped thinking of him as Beefcakes), waits for me at the curb. I swing the door open and climb in, turning to Rhysand with a grin.
I hold up my hands victory.Â
Rhysand smiles and laughs, relief and love and awe written across his beautiful features.Â
Heâs so fucking handsome, I canât hold out anymore.
Muttering an apology to Rolando for what heâs about to witness, I sling myself across the leather seat and pretty much attack Rhysand.Â
It might be the fact that I just drugged someone with illegal substances--my very first crime!--or maybe just how he looks when heâs happy. I donât really care.
My hands are on his jaw, running down his chest, tangling in his hair.Â
He lets out a surprised laugh as I paw at him, and I use the opportunity to sweep my tongue into his mouth, holding back a moan at the taste of him.
The car stops, but I sure as hell donât.
Until Rhysand takes me shoulders in his hands, and gently pulls away. âAdrenaline junkie,â he accuses with a smile, pressing one last kiss to my cheek.Â
I nod, because itâs probably true.
He gives me an amused look. âThen I canât wait for what happens in twenty minutes.â
I stick my tongue out at him, ever the mature adult, and he smiles. Then he takes my hands, examines the rings, and takes the two that fit the worst.
He slips them on, and even though itâs a casual gesture, I almost break out into tears.
Too manly to cry like a baby, Rhysand just opens the door and walks out, taking my hand and pulling me with him.
Even though he looks calm and cool as a cucumber, I know heâs not exactly thrilled Iâm here. We had our first real argument about me coming along for this part of the plan Iâve secretly begun to call Toppling Tamlin the Tool.Â
I won, obviously.
He warned me time and time again about what I was going to witness today, but I donât care. His revenge is his to take, but I want to be here for him.Â
Heâs been fighting for so long, completely alone.Â
And no matter how it started, I fell for him. He isnât alone anymore, and wonât be ever again, no matter how dangerous the situation is.
Hand in hand, we stroll into Leperchaunâs Luck, the last remaining Irish stronghold in Chicago.
When I asked why heâd let it remain all this time, Rhysand smiled that cruel smile and said, âRevenge is only worth it if itâs slow and painful.â
Iâd shuddered, half in horror and half in excitement.
I know itâs horrible and beyond absurd, but what he does for a living doesnât scare me. He explained the gory details last night, and I listened. And even though I was scared, it wasnât of him.
It was for him.
He has enemies with rap sheets longer than my arm.Â
The guy Rhysand blocks from buying Degas? Russian arms dealer!
But Chicago, heâd told me with a smile, is his. Someone would have to be suicidal to come after him here. So I guess Iâll just blow up his plane and never let him leave.
Sounds realistic.
Iâd like to think it was my smile and charm that made him give in and let me tag along, but it was likely the fact that we arenât in any super big dangerous.Â
We walk through the empty bar and to the courtyard in the back, and itâs a little amusing how quickly the six men sitting around a poker table jump to their feet and start shouting questions.Â
âWhat the fuck?â is the most popular.Â
âHello, gentlemen,â Rhysand greets smoothly, ever the gentleman.Â
Someone behind us loads a gun, the sound making my eyes go wide.Â
But itâs never fired.
Because all of a sudden, red dots are on every single chest besides mine and Rhysandâs.Â
âPull that trigger, McCallen, and all your friends die.â
They all look down and around at each other with huge, saucer-sized eyes.Â
Not one to dally, Rhysand smiles and tells the group, âI just bought this establishment. Needless to say, youâre no longer welcome. In here, or Chicago. You have six hours to leave my city.â
âBoughtâ is a bit of a strong word. He hacked into Tamlinâs bank account and bankrupted him, forcing him to sell to the highest bidder. Guess who that was.
âOr what?â one asks, feeling brave.
Another dot makes its way to his chest.
Gods, how many snipers does Rhysand have?
âOr youâll die, and your precious little daughter Lena will be an orphan.â
The manâs jaw sets, even as his face pales.Â
Checking his watch with a casual gesture, Rhysand reminds, âSix hours and counting.â
Then he says, directly at the small box in the middle of the poker table, âThat goes for you too, Tamlin.âÂ
Since he didnât want to risk coming back to Chicago, much less his last property here, Tamlin had been keeping control of his men by listening to everything that happened in this place on a private radio frequency.
Which, somehow, Rhysand knew.
Heâd told me the number, and Iâd turned the radio in Tamlinâs office to it before leaving. The drugs havenât left his system and wonât until later today, meaning heâs still lying limp in that chair, listening to every word.
âLeave before I lose my patience,â Rhysand growls, and the men take the warning and haul ass out of the building.
Turning to me, he smiles and asks, âReady, Feyre darling?â
âReady.â
We walk out of the restaurant again, pep definitely in our steps, then get back in the car. Rolando starts driving immediately, leaving the restaurant behind us.
âDo you want to-â
âYes,â I answer immediately, grabbing the phone from him and hitting call.
"So violent,â he murmurs with a smirk, turning in his seat to watch as the explosives heâd placed there years ago during a mandatory âcity inspectionâ finally came into use.Â
The explanation I got on that one: âIn case I got bored.â
Gods, heâs sexy.
The car rocks slightly as orange and blue and yellow flames race out of the building, leaving absolutely nothing behind.Â
Even though the violent woman in me wants to keep watching, I look at Rhysand instead.
His eyes find mine, and he smiles softly. âItâs done. Itâs over.â
I nod and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, linking our hands together. We both stare down at the rings. âItâs over.â
Tamlin will run back to wherever heâs been the past seven months, and since thereâs absolutely nothing for him here, he wonât come back.Â
Rhysand has complete control of the city again, his empire built brick by brick through hard work and rage. Heâs gotten his revenge, taken everything from the man who left him with nothing.Â
And he got me.
âWas that enough adrenaline for you, Feyre?â he asks, hitting a button to roll up the barrier between us and Rolando.Â
Someone else, it seems, is an adrenaline junkie.Â
Smiling, I slide down on the soft leather and lift an eyebrow. âCome find out.â
~Feyre, three months later~
Somehow, I feel nauseous, excited, and doomed all at once.
I donât even know how thatâs possible, but itâs true.
Iâm so nervous, I might be sick. Iâm so excited, I can hardly walk. Iâm so unsure of myself, I might fail.Â
Focusing on the one in the middle, I walk down the aisle between chairs, ignoring the people watching me and focusing on the destination.
I can feel his eyes on me, and just like the first day we met, I can hardly breathe. But I ignore the tingly feeling in my spine and focus on what Iâm doing.
I walk up to the slightly lifted stage in the large auditorium and turn to my peers, smiling and feigning confidence.Â
Iâm presenting my senior project today. And even though Iâm excited and nervous and doomed, Iâm proud of it.
It turned out better than I expected, honestly.Â
It took me forever to finish the painting aspect because I wasnât quite satisfied until late last night.Â
The paintâs interrupted and surrounded by photos Iâve collected this year.
Rhysand, covered in paint. Art from both Chicagoâs museum and the private collection I visit almost every day. Random bits of architecture and the night sky and shots that just work.Â
Up close, itâs a bit of a mess, but from a distance--particularly, the distance between me and Rhysandâs chair--it looks like three dancers, twirling and leaping under the night sky.Â
My professor hugged me when she saw it. So did Rhysand.
No offense to Prof. Jones, but I enjoyed his a little more.
âThis is called Starlight Dancers,â I tell the room, my voice surprisingly level. Iâm glad for the bright lights, because I canât see anyoneâs actual face as I continue. âItâs a rendition of Degasâs work, Dancers in Blue, which is my favorite piece. Iâve also incorporated photographs of art and people who mean a lot to me. Like a lot of pieces from the Renaissance, itâs meant to be viewed at a distance.â
I keep talking, going through the difference elements and explaining how, essentially, itâs a celebration of painting and love.
More than once, my eyes are drawn to the photographs of Rhysand, and I find myself searching for him in the crowd.Â
I also get a little distracted by the mass of sparkles adorning my ring finger.
Weâve been engaged for three days, eight hours, and a handful of minutes.
He proposed in the museum, right where we met. When I almost feinted at the site of the biggest diamond Iâd ever seen and told him it was too much, heâd just laughed and said, âIt was this or the painting behind you.â
Ridiculous, wonderful man.Â
I know itâs fast to get married after less than five months together, but the scary truth is that I canât imagine life without him.
I scan the crowd again, and it might be my imagination, but I think I see a pair of violet eyes watching me.Â
And I could swear one winks at me.
~Rhysand~
Iâm not supposed to be in here.
Iâm not a professor, and Iâm sure as shit not a student.Â
But I snuck in anyway, ignoring the millions of things I actually need to be doing, because I want to support her.Â
I donât even know what sheâs talking about--impressionism and romantic elements and different types of photography--but sheâs so passionate and beautiful, I canât take my eyes off her.
She has me completely wrapped around her finger, and it should probably scare me that I donât even care.
Years and years of planning, and everything thatâs happened in the past month still surprised me.
Not the part about running every last Irish bastard out of my city; thatâd been set in stone.Â
The part about me getting engaged.
Ironically, thatâs the only part that makes me smile.
Sure, I sent Tamlin running for the hills with his ragged band of leprechauns, set his stronghold on fire, and finally have peace over what happened all those years ago.Â
But even that pales in comparison to waking up next to the woman up on the stage.
Sheâs a bed hog and always puts her freezing feet on me as soon as I crawl next to her, but the way she smiles at me when she wakes up makes up for it.
Everything about her makes up for it, actually.Â
Sheâs still absolutely crazy and wonderful and I now have paint splatters on more than a few of my suits, but being loved by her is like... standing in the sun after being locked in a cave. Or some other shitty metaphor.
The fucking point is, even though getting down on one knee in a museum and asking her to share her life with me is the last thing I expected to happen, Iâm glad it did.
Because being with her gives me something Iâd thought Iâd lost ten years ago: happiness.
________________________________________
Thank you for reading!Â
TAGS: @elorcan-trashâ @januarystearsâ @emikadreamsâ @alpha-omegasâ @joyceortiz13â @sapphic-beautyâ @meowsekaiâ @ahappyhistorianreaderâ @courtofjurdanâ @acalypsotâ @acourtofsjmtrashâ @highladyofthesith @bookwormq702 @swankii-art-teacherâ @lunaroseperdomoâ @leaf-love-lifeâ @mari-highladyof-feelsâ @raghad-50725â @perseusannabethâ @cursebreaker29â @a-bit-of-a-cactusâ @elriel4lifeâ @girl-who-reads-the-booksâ @shinya-hiiragiâ @aelinfeyreeleven945tblnâ @ireallyshouldsleeprnâ @highqueenofelfhameâ @nahthanksâ @ghostlyrose2â @lovemollywhoâ @tillyrubes10 @claraladyâ @tswaney17â @rowanisahunkâ @superspiritfestivalâ @thegoddessofyouâ @awesomelena555â @booksofthemoonâ @greerlunnaâ @jlinezâ @studyliketateâ @over300booksâ @justgiu12â @maastrashâ @aesthetics-11â @bamchickawowowâ @b00kwormâ @sleeping-and-booksâ @musicmaamâ @hizqueen4lifeâ @maybekindasortaaceâ
#feysand#feysand fanfiction#feyre archeron#feyre#rhysand#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acofas#acotar fanfiction#a court of thorns and roses#a court of wings and ruin#a court of mist and fury#a court of frost and starlight
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Steve Rogers - Promise
A/N - So, this is my first marvel imagine? I havenât watched all the films yet, Iâm halfway through and watching them all in chronological order, but I couldnât resist because I love Steve Rogers. So much. Once Iâve finished watching, I'll probably realise a shit tonne of mistakes in this, but please donât judge. Apologies for any typos and incorrect information. GIF credits to owner.
Warnings - angst, smut so 18+ please; fingering, unprotected sex (donât do it), borderline âcaptainâ kink, 5k.
Summary - youâre an admin worker in stark tower, an average working girl except for one thing, you have a superior memory, one that has aided you many a time. But when youâre leading Cap on a mission and it gets cut off, is it because of your memory, or are you just letting your crush on Steve cloud any reasonable thinking?
YOU LOVE YOUR JOB, thereâs no denying it. Youâre young, a Brit in America, just working to help with your future, but after how well itâs been going recently? You donât think youâll want to leave.Â
Youâre an admin at Stark Tower. Not that one is really needed with all of Tonyâs tech, and the fact that everyone is more than capable of sorting themselves out, itâs just fun to be around. Not only do you complete all the stenography and spreadsheets that donât necessarily have to do with anyone specific, but you also do many of the more artistic plans and are everyoneâs personal therapist. You probably donât help your own cause - leaving your door propped open with a book to let anyone drift in and out of their own accord at any given time, unless youâre properly working, and then they know to find you in your office. Yes, your very own office.
Recently, with you becoming more and more familiar with the workings of all the residents, growing more knowledgeable of their work lives, picking up the lingo and everyoneâs gladness at your perfect, imperturbable memory, youâre slowly being given more tasks. This could be anything from mission reassignment to looking through months old footage, but youâve been helping out over the system on a couple of missions. You really feel like one of the team even though you know youâre far from it. Sleeping in the tower helps, as well as being welcomed by everyone every meal time that you sit together, especially the way they test your memory trick and always seem completely amazed at how you remember the most obscure details. Anything from the exact positioning of a birth mark on someone that Natasha took down the first week you began working, to the precise measurement of metal that Tony needed to complete a new project, to the freckle on Steveâs bare ass that one time he had to use your shower-
That escalated quickly.Â
Currently, youâre in your office, daydreaming and completely wistfully thinking. You have no trouble remembering every conversation you and Steve have ever had, not that many admittedly, but heâs always been so kind to you. He was the first one to truly make you feel part of the team, welcoming you with a hug before holding you at arms length and brushing a crease from the arm of your blouse. Youâre not really sure if heâd seen anyone dress that way, since all the girls he was around were always in their kick ass clothes, gym shorts or comfies, so you wandering around day in day out and wearing frilly Victorian-era blouses paired with short, tight pencil skirts and Louboutin stilettos may have been a shock to his system. It wasnât with any agenda in mind that you did this, merely a mix of modesty and business woman style. Every word Cap has ever said flies through your mind, the impeccable memory of the way his exquisite nylon suit clings to him in all the right places...Â
Steve is the only guy youâve fancied for a while, the only person youâve ever really gone for emotionally, and all of that is because heâs such a cute human being; so genuine, so upbeat around you, so supportive, and his smile. Goddamn his smile. Heâs just too cute for life, which is also why you should really be concentrating, considering youâre supposed to be monitoring his mission.Â
âY/N, are you there? I think somethings happening, someoneâs here that we didnât know about, where do I go?â
His usually soft voice is frantic, and you can tell heâs a little scared, since this was supposed to be a simple solo mission, in and out, but now youâre having to recite an escape route.Â
âTurn left at the end of that corridor, half way down thereâs a grate on the wall. Pull it off, climb inside.â You tell him as calmly as you can, but even your heart is beating out of your chest, breathing laboured and a slight sweat forming on your forehead.Â
âIâm in, sweetheart. What next?â Not the right time for your heart to flutter at his words, especially not the time to imagine the way his raspy morning voice would curl around those very same Few words...
âFollow the route, itâll bring you out in a downstairs kitchen area that was empty last time I checked, Iâll look again...â you trail off, clicking off the one screen with the dot of his whereabouts to check the surveillance, and he seems to be safe.Â
You hear his breathing calm down as he crawls through the ventilation system, but even as you flick through every camera that youâve been able to access in the building heâs in and the surrounding area, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary apart from a couple of unconscious, probably dead blokes scattered across stone floors.
âIâm in the kitchen, but thereâs no doors in here, no way out.â He says.Â
Fuck.
Your heart sinks to your feet.
âYes there is Steve, itâs on the north wall beside a faux, oversized spice rack. It has a silver handle and itâs an oak door, exactly like my bedroom door.â
He pauses, his heart rate thrumming heavily, âsweetheart thereâs no door here, thereâs no spice rack, just old built in cabinets and flat walls. You must have misremembered.â
âShut the fuck op Steve, Iâm doing what I can,â
Your usual eloquence is out the window along with all of your chill, sounding mildly like a road man as you frantically tap between the screens. Heâs right though, his only way out is to climb back in the vent and hope to god, well, or Thor, that no one finds him there, but that may be too late.
âTry the cold tap on the sink, I donât know exactly what was said but I distinctly remember someone talking about it. Stay calm for me Cap, please.â You want to beg for him to be ok, to come back in one piece, because this isnât a normal mission, youâre emotionally attached.Â
He takes a deep breath and walks over to the tap, but as soon as he touches it, all surveillance is cut off, your computer goes black, and you canât even hear his breathing anymore.Â
âSteve? Cap, come back to me, can you hear me? Steve?â With each call of his name to which he doesnât respond, you grow more frantic. The lights are still on so you know that itâs not the mains, but youâre not educated with circuits, so you do what you can to reboot your computer, only for it to show up with your bland screen of spreadsheets, sans anything about the mission or Steve.
Your hands start shaking, lip quivering and mind overwhelmed with stress. Itâs over, youâve lost Steve, fucked up the mission, youâll be out of a job, and the worst part? You broke a promise.Â
âPromise youâll keep me safe out there Y/N?â Steve asked, his cute little smile twinkling in his eyes and making your whole body go giddy.
âI promise, but you have to promise that youâll come back in one piece.â
âThat I can do, for you.â He murmured, wrapping his arms around your body and placing a kiss to your hairline.Â
You havenât been at the compound long enough to know whether this is normal for Steve, or for anyone, or if heâs just a natural flirt. Whatever it is, you feel too guilty to face him again if he even comes back alive.Â
Slowly, soft sobs start to escape your lips without you noticing, tears slipping down your cheeks and dampening the neck of your blouse. You canât help the guilt that overtakes you, the fear that you canât even reason, and thatâs when you hear a soft knock on your door.
âCan I come in?â
Itâs Natasha. You nod gently as she takes a seat in the corner of your room, throwing her feet up on your coffee table so nonchalantly that itâs almost not a challenge of authority.Â
âWhatâs up? Didnât you have to radio for Cap?â Once again you nod, hastily wiping the tears from your face and smoothing your skirt out. âSo, why are you crying?â
You like Natasha, of course you do, but you have normal people emotions and a little more conscience, unable to stand the thought of anyone even getting a papercut on your watch.Â
âHe went off, the computers crashed, and itâs all my fault.â You say, standing up and moving to shut your office door, locking it for safekeeping, because if Bucky finds out then youâre dead.Â
Natasha grabs a lollipop from your sweet bowl and sticks it in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, and if you didnât know any better, youâd think sheâs flirting. Sheâs not, thatâs just Natasha. âCare to elaborate?â
You take a sharp breath, âsomeone was there that we didnât calculate, I had to get him through the ventilation system to an abandoned kitchen that I KNOW had a door, my memory doesnât glitch, so in the time it took for Steve to get through the vents, someone mustâve closed off the door, but Iâm not sure how. Then he just went when he touched the only possible thing that could be an escape route. Fuck, what if heâs dead?â
You feel tears bubbling up in your eyes again, blinking harshly to keep them away.Â
âSo what if he is? Youâre smart, youâre panicking, so youâve obviously done everything. It sounds harsh but you canât get too attached. Just listen out and heâll come back of his own accord, but if he doesnât then weâll have to deal with that later.â She says, grasping a hand around your shoulder before stepping over the threshold to the main compound, leaving you alone with your thoughts.Â
Maybe she thought tough love would work, but she has a point. Youâve done everything you can, so now itâs just a waiting game.
You keep an ear piece on you but shut your office for the night, heading out to the bar to pour yourself a more than healthy sized glass of wine. You unbutton your shirt a little and slide down the wall to your favourite reading spot, in one far corner, you set up some cushions and bedding. Youâre the only one that uses it, but you could swear that youâve seen Steve eyeing it up before. So you sit, tears streaming down your cheeks and leaving you with mascara-stained tear tracks, the first few buttons of your shirt recklessly undone, and your heels flung elsewhere. You bring the bottle over with your glass, and you pick up a book to keep you distracted.Â
Youâre not sure how long you sit there, guilt slowly building, occasionally calling Steveâs name to check if heâs come back on the system, but thereâs nothing. Nothing until the lift doors open, and out walks a very bloody Cap with his suit half on and a skin tight white t-shirt clinging to his upper body.
The tears donât stop falling from your eyes, but you close your book anyway. You would stand up, run to hug him, but your legs canât hold you up, so you stay seated, all your words caught in your throat as Steve edges further across the common area towards you.Â
He offers you a shy smile, virtually collapsing into the carpet only metres from you. Slowly his head lifts, hair falling into his eyes, and he holds his arms out.Â
âOh god Steve,â itâs him. Really him. You feared heâd be a hologram or something, your eyes deceiving you from their soreness post crying. But heâs here, you can tell from the overly memorised display of veins in his bicep when he offers you his arm.Â
âItâs me,â he nods, edging a little further towards you as you crawl closer and settle into his grip.Â
Your tears flow freely, dampening his shirt. Neither of you says a word, he just grips you closer to him, cuddling your legs into his lap to soothe you.
After a while, Steve fidgets, and you find your eyes dry.Â
You angle your head upwards, your well kept chignon completely haywire. Steveâs face is covered in bruises and dried blood, but his eyes donât look at all worried.Â
âWhat happened?â You whisper, words vibrating through his chest.Â
âThe tap was a trick, or maybe I twisted the wrong one, but all the lights went out and I was shocked, I had to attack a few guys but I made it out, albeit bruised.â He swallows, running a shy finger over the curves of your face. âWere you worried about me?â
You nod, clutching him close. He chuckles and draws circles on your back through your shirt, just his soft touch more comforting than anything else.Â
âIâm fine, sweetheart, is my nose broken though?â
You look at his nose, softly smoothing over a hell of a bruise, before placing a gentle kiss to the bridge.Â
âNo, trust me. In British comps, fights happen daily, and my ex was in with a bad crowd, always in fights. I had to deal with all kinds of injuries, and your nose is not broken. Be grateful because it hurts to sort it out.â
He laughs and brings you in.
âYou deserve so much better than someone like that. I was worried about you when I was out there you know...â he says.
A strange conversation transition, but who are you to judge.Â
âI was so scared, I thought youâd died,â ah shit, here come the tears again, âNatasha told me to just wait it out like I wasnât completely emotionally attached to you. Bloody hell, Steve, Iâd be responsible if you died.â
He cooes sweet reassurances in your ear, wrapping his arms entirely around your torso while the join between his neck and shoulder becomes your sanctuary.
âIâm emotionally attached to you too if that helps,â he whispers in your ear, so quietly that he hopes you didnât hear, instantly regretting it. But with the soft kiss you place on the sweet spot just below his ear, he brings up all his courage to angle his head just right, capturing your lips in his in the sweetest of kisses.Â
You gasp into the kiss, your reaction giving Steve means to believe you didnât like it, instantly pulling away and dropping his hands from around your body.
âI-Iâm sorry, youâre upset and I took advantage of that, and I havenât really been with anyone since, well...â
âShut up and kiss me, Steve.â You command, cutting off his rambling, your hand cupping his cheek.Â
His hands slowly make their way around your body, fumbling for the bottom of your blouse and subsequently unable to find where your shirt ends and your skirt starts. You giggle a little into the kiss, taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss by delving his tongue into your mouth. You place your hands over his and guide them to your chest. For a second, he seems confused, his lips halting their massaging movements on your own, until he finds the open buttons at the top of your blouse. He pulls his lips away for a moment, breath mingling together in the air. His smells of strawberries, you note. He glances at you for reassurance, something which you eagerly give, so he begins. His hands slowly work their way over your chest, fingers fiddling with your buttons as you wait patiently, completely submissive for Steve to do whatever he wants to you.Â
He pushes the material from your shoulders, and you untuck the back of it from your skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor, revealing your bra. Though now you see Steve eyeing it up, you realise itâs not really a bra at all, rather two triangles of flimsy fabric with some bands and strings attached, one of your only bras that doesnât show through a sheer blouse. The way his eyes are boggling at your tits though, you guess he likes it.Â
An unwitting blush creeps up your neck and cheeks, suddenly feeling cold under his scrutiny.
âYou can touch them if you want,â you chuckle lightly, fearing that youâll sound like an inexperienced teenager if you say more.Â
Steve blushes as crimson as you, his large hands leaping at the opportunity to feel you. You throw your head back in pleasure as his cold thumb rubs over your nipples, making them hard to the touch, and the rest of his hands get to work massaging and kneading your boobs, pulling down the fabric to softly kiss your bare skin.Â
Although he hasnât done this in a while, well, a lifetime, he still knows how to do it realllly well.Â
Your hands fly to his heart, keeping him there, his lips switching between your breasts until you grow a little more needy, grinding down on his bulge.Â
âYou wanna do this?â He asks, voice a little hoarse but still silky.Â
âYes, Steve. Fuck, just take me.â
âLanguage,â he chides jokingly, but despite that, he agrees.Â
Clearly he doesnât need to be asked twice, because he has you flipped beneath him with your back on your cushions in your reading corner, his lips attaching your neck.Â
You fumble with the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head between kisses and suckles to a sensitive spot on your neck. Heâs carved like a Greek god, abs toned to perfection, his tanned skin rippling with any given movement. He feels so soft too, skin tender beneath your fingers, trailing them gently across his back and torso to simply feel him. The contrary of gentle skin and solid muscles is one that makes your mouth water with desire, bringing Capâs lips back to your own, palms pressed firmly against his back. You go in deep this time, licking his mouth and devouring his taste. To your surprise, he kisses you back with even more fervour, so passionate that you lose track of any thought swirling in your mind.Â
âSuit off, now.â You call breathlessly, watching on as Steve clumsily tries to peel off his trousers by using the sleeve of his suit. Heâs moving so recklessly that with an abrupt movement heâll snag the fabric, ripping the suit that makes him look heaven sent.Â
âHere,â you giggle, offering a hand out which he gladly takes, letting you shimmy the tough material down his legs, only blocked by his clunky boots which he kicks off at the same time as the suit, haphazardly leaving them wherever they fall in the lounge. âFuck.â Is all you can choke out. The serum worked on everything. Even with his briefs still on, you can see his cock twitching within its confines.
âYouâre wearing too many clothes now,â he faux scolds, leaping atop you again, kissing your collarbone as his hands work their way down your body.Â
First he unhooks your bra properly, throwing it off and you both hear it land on the glass coffee table from the way your clasp knocks the glass. Next he moves onto your skirt, unzipping it, your hips raising of their own accord to accommodate his actions, slipping it off alongside your tights, revealing your bare legs to him for the first time. He doesnât care about any of the natural marks that grace your skin, merely that youâre sitting in just your panties and only for him.Â
âGod youâre so beautiful,â he says.
He runs his palms over your thighs, just feeling your skin beneath his. His touch is soothing, as is his presence, allowing you to feel open towards him. You tilt your legs a little more open, revealing to him the small wet latch that graces your not-so-sexy work underwear.Â
âAll for me?â Steve asks, eyes innocent and doe like.Â
If heâs really this sweet and naive then youâre gonna fucking ruin him. Sweet Jesus what you wouldnât do to that man, starting with your incredibly well hidden Captain kink, though it may not be hidden much longer.
He brings a finger up to your core, pushing your panties to the side to run a finger up and down your slit. He audibly moans while collecting your slick from between your folds, fingers rough in contrast to the part of his body that youâre gripping onto, though youâre not sure quite where from your eyes fluttering closed.Â
âReady?â
You nod, bracing yourself as he rips your panties off and pushes one finger inside you. He feels brilliant, his fingers so much longer and better than your own, already bringing you jolts of pleasure from its presence.Â
He draws it out before pumping back in again, continuing his movements. Your forehead falls against his bare shoulder, small gasps of pleasure escaping your open mouth.
âMore,â you pant, ready to feel more of his intoxicating ministrations.Â
He nods obligingly, slowly adding a second finger, continuing his gentle assault on your pussy. God, itâs been so long since youâve had sex, just his two fingers pumping in and out of you brings you more pleasure than youâd care to admit.Â
âS-stop,âÂ
He looks up at you, immediately withdrawing his fingers, covered in your juices and glistening in the moonlight. You flush far too deeply at such a simple thing.Â
âI need to feel you already, please.â
You sensually drag your finger all over his bare chest, hearing his breath hitch in his throat. He nods vigorously, hair falling in his line of vision, but scrambles to be on top of you properly, hands either side of your head on your array of cushions and his legs steady, trapping you completely beneath him.Â
âAre you sure? I donât wanna take advantage of you, y/n. Youâre so beautiful and perfect and I want your first time with me to be something youâll remember forever.â He says sweetly, but despite his kind words, you canât help but chuckle for a solid few seconds before he realises what heâs said.Â
âOk, but are you sure you wanna do it here rather than my room? Yours is out of the option, everyone will assume youâre dead if your book isnât there anymore...âÂ
once more you chuckle, as does he, bringing your hand up to cup his jaw.Â
âIâm sure, Steve, now get inside me before I change my mind and wake Bucky up,â you quip.Â
He knows youâre joking but gets to work anyway, swiftly getting rid of his brokers and ungracefully kicking them off as you watch him. He may be hot but even Lokiâs magic may not be able to make him elegant.Â
As soon as heâs back in his previous position and you see is dick slapping against his stomach, hard and already a little red, you canât help but gape. His too-tight boxers didnât do him justice because now youâre worried he wonât even fit.Â
He sees your worried face and panics, âWe can go back if you want, we donât have to do this.â
âI want this Steve, shitting hell-â
âLanguage,â he chides, interrupting you, allowing you to cock your eyebrows at him, a look to say âis this really the time?â
âIâve never wanted anything more in my life, just go slow because youâre huge.â You finish, smiling at his dorky smile and flushed cheeks.Â
Of all the things he could blush at, he chooses a compliment. Such a dork, you think to yourself, unable to stop the contagious smile creeping onto your face.
âIâll be careful with you, I promise.â
And that he is.Â
âOh, and call me captain.â
Thatâs something you knew heâd have a kink for, making you smirk a little too.Â
He runs the head of his cock through your folds to father a little lubrication before pushing in, very slightly and very gently. He bends his arms and kisses all over your face with the new leverage, feather light kisses of pure affection before you give him a breathy whisper, resembling of a âmoreâ, so he pushes in a bit more again, repeating the process until heâs buried to the hilt inside your aching core, clenching around him without Steve even needing to do anything.Â
âCan I start moving?â He asks, awkwardly shifting his weight above you, but you nod vigorously, kissing him urgently as his lips begin to move.Â
He starts off slow, gradual thrusts, ensuring that he finds every weak spot inside or you, making your toes curl already and your legs knot around his waist, his tongue still dancing with yours.Â
He increases his pace after a while, bucking into you faster, making you moan out his name and clutch onto his wonderfully broad shoulders.
You pull your lips away for a moment, âmore Captain,â you ask, nothing more than a breathy sound, but Steve obliges.Â
He breaks the kiss as he begins snapping his hips into yours with fervour and purpose. His balls are hitting your bare ass, his cock stuffed inside you and making the most delectable sounds from how wet you are, all for Steve. He looks down, tearing his gaze away from your pretty little face with your die eyes and parted lips, only to watch as he sinks into you again and again, blurring the lines of where he ends and you begin.
âSteve, Captain, please, talk to me,âÂ
Your words come out as a strangled cry, a beg mixing with his moan at the name, oxygen lessening as your eyes flutter shut, too engrossed in the pleasure to even care that your voice has gone up in pitch while his has gone down.Â
âYouâre such a tease, walking around in that tight skirt all day, those long legs always crossed. All I want is to pull them apart and go down on you, under your desk, in the kitchen, just anywhere that I can have you for my own.âÂ
His voice is low, raspy and needy as he trails his tongue along your collarbone filthily, forcing your eyes open with some unearthly force he must possess simply so that he can meet your gaze as he bites your nipples, his cock continually hitting that sweet spot inside you.Â
âItâs not just that though,â he continues, resuming his dirty talk between caresses of his lips all over you, âyouâre so perfect. So stunning, so intelligent, the reason I wake up every day just for the hope that one of these days Iâd be able to kiss you.â
his hips halt just for a moment, long enough to unwrap your legs from his back and throw them over his shoulders, lust filled eyes boring into your own with an uncharacteristically devilish smirk.Â
He kisses you again, fleeting but passionate before he nibbles your earlobe and purrs,
âAnd now I get to have you at my mercy, and believe me, that desk fantasy is gonna come true every day.â
With that sentiment, he starts ploughing into you even more ferociously than before, making you scream his name, a lot of murmured âCaptain!âs and curses mingling with the cries.Â
The new angle hits spots you forgot even existed. Your nails take his back, tugging in and clinging on for mercy, the burn of your legs in such a contorted position only adding to your pleasure.
âFuck, Iâm gonna come,â you shout breathlessly, chest heaving, your boobs moving up and down of their own accord and Steve is unable to take his eyes off them.
You feel the coil ready to spring in your stomach, a climax thatâs been steadily building since he first kissed you.Â
âTell me what youâre gonna do with me tomorrow, and then you can come.â
His words are something forbidden, coaxing you off the edge, daring you to hit that wave of pleasure. Just the thought of your past daydreams make your walls clench around him.Â
âIâll wake you up by sucking your magnificent cock, then Iâll ride you harder than anyone has ever before, and then Iâll ride your face before we have intermittent sex in my office, at least twice.â
You donât even know what youâre saying, your imagination running winks with the thought of Steve having you in his lap in your desk chair, pressed up against the glass of your office for everyone to see as he fucks you senseless. Youâre insatiable. The thought of his dick twitching in your mouth is too much to handle, especially as he brings his thumb down and presses on your clit, moaning unintelligibly at your apparently sexy words, and you feel it.Â
Your orgasm crashes over you so hard that you feel it on your bones, thrashing around beneath Steve, screaming out his name as he dudes your high out only seconds before coming too, his muffled cries of your name drowned out as he bites onto the juncture of your neck, bruising it and rendering you unable to wear anything other than polo necks for a good few days. The pleasure heâs given you is unrivalled, and you canât waist for more.
His body collapses onto yours inelegantly, wrapping you unto his body warmth in your cosy little corner, both forgetting that youâre completely naked in the common area after having rather loud sex.Â
âWas that good?â Steve asks sheepishly, fingers running through your tangled hair.
âYes, incredible. And for you?â
He thinks for a moment before answering, âexquisite, sweetheart.â
Your heart glows a little at his sleepy voice. You run your thumb over the bump of his nose and the blood residue still on his face, but you think you may like Steve a little roughed up. You stay close to each other, breathing together and sharing kisses in the night time, so absorbed in your own bubble that you donât hear someone come in.
âThe fuck is this, Steve?â
Fuck, Bucky.Â
âCouldnât you have been a little better at aiming your clothes? Weâre all glad youâre finally together, but loud and untidy as well as sex in the common area? Come on.â
You can hear the humour in his words, but they do hold some sincerity, making you blush and chuckle. Next thing you know, your bra is being thrown at the pair of you, landing in Steveâs messed up hair.
âThanks buck...â you say with a meek giggle, kissing Steve and removing your bra from his face.
âRound two? My room?â He suggests, eyebrows wiggling.Â
âPromise youâll let me clean you up first?!â You insist, kissing his shoulder and beaming at him.Â
âPromise.â
#steve rogers#steve rogers imagine#captain america#captain america imagine#avengers smut#avengers imagine#captain america smut#steve rogers smut
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Holiday Party from Hell
Bobo Del Rey x Reader
Words: 1775 Rating: T Summary: You and Bobo are both full of surprises tonight. The first one: that this revenant would even show up to your corporate holiday party. No content warnings.
Oh no. No no no, this cannot be happening right now.
You shudder as you hear that oh-so-familiar rasping voice cutting through the soft chatter of your companyâs holiday party. âThe punch is just delightful! Judith, did you make this?â
You knew they were inviting clients this year. The past three quarters had shown record profits and so your company had rented out the most expensive venue around for a little thank-you soiree. You just...it had slipped your mind that a certain construction firm owned by a certain Mr. Del Rey was one of those clients.
You try to duck out of the main party room while his fur-coated back is turned, but you end up right in his line of sight as his head swivels at the exact worst moment, almost preternaturally fast, into your direction. âY/N!â he exclaims, loud and thick with razor-sharp cheer, âI was hoping Iâd see you here!â
And to make matters so much worse, your direct supervisor just happens to be standing right next to you as Bobo Del Rey approaches with a brimming cup of punch in each hand. âMr. Del Rey,â Justin greets him warmly. âI didnât think you had been working with Y/N at all. How did she get involved on your contract?â
âShe didnât,â Bobo says, thrusting one cup at you as your boss looks expectantly between the two of you. No chance you can get away with being rude, now. You accept the cup but remind yourself not to drink from it. âMs. Y/L/N and I have . . . other entanglements.â His fingers flutter against the edge of his cup.
If there had been punch in your mouth, you probably would have spit it. What was he trying to make it sound like? âWeâre in the same darts league,â you say, thinking fast.
The truth is, youâre kind of a consultant for Wynonna Earp and the cops. Your NDA prevents you from giving them anything dirty on Boboâs business entanglements, but you also happen to have a knowledge base of a more occult variety that has helped them out on a number of their other cases already. And also run you afoul of the head honcho of the local hell squad. More than once. Youâre probably the only person in this room that knows the real threat that âMr. Del Reyâ poses.
âDarts, huh?â Justin says, continuing the conversation while you and Bobo stare each other down through the twinkling lights and safe, festive music. âYou do that in bars, right?â He shakes his head. âYouâve got to watch out in those kinds of places, Y/N. All kinds of unsavory types.â
âOh, she knows.â Bobo inches his hip in a little closer to yours. âI think thatâs why she keeps coming around. Likes that little taste of danger.â
Ugh. Heâs going to run his mouth until he gets you in trouble, isnât he. Your boss is backing away slowly, a rictus smile plastered across his uncomfortable face. Although, it is just a little satisfying to watch someone make that patronizing bastard be the one to feel self-conscious for a change. âWe all gotta do something thatâll make us feel alive, right?â you say, not exactly looking at either one of them. âBlow off some steam at the end of the rat race.â
Justin gives you an incredulous look. âThink Iâll stick to my bridge club, thanks.â He pretends to see someone waving at him across the room. A quick check shows you no one is looking even remotely in his direction. âExcuse me.â
Bobo sidles in even closer. âBet that felt good,â he intones.
You release your sudden deep breath in a burst. âKind of.â
âYou know, if youâve been needing to blow off a little steamâ"
You dodge as it feels like heâs trying to put his arm around you. âSeriously?â
Bobo peers at you from under heavy brows, undeterred in the slightest by your rejection. âIâm always serious.â
The moment is broken by another coworker, shouting your name across the room. âItâs time,â the office manager, Judith, calls. âGet over here!â
Oh no. When youâd agreed to rehearse the cute little line dance set to âJingle Bell Rockâ with the crew from your half of the office building, it was only because you figured no one embarrassing would be here to witness it.
Boboâs head cocks. âTime for what?â He canât have any idea whatâs coming, but heâs grinning anyway. Maybe he can sense your instant discomfort.
âNothing,â you bark. âMaybe you want to go outside for a smoke or something?â
He looms in a little closer, with a shit-eating grin. âMy dear Y/N, are you trying to take me someplace more private right now?â
âWhat? No. Iâve got to go do this thing over here, now. Bye, Bobo.â
The ambient fairy lights draped around the room glitter off his rings as he wiggles his finger in farewell.
No luck on getting Bobo distracted enough to prowl away while you go line up next to your office friends and wait for the hired DJ to cue up the track. As that distinctive guitar riff signals the start of the song, and all the little colored spotlights point at your group, you see the revenant standing right at the edge of the dancefloor, front and center in the crowd of spectators. He ducks his head and says something to Martha, the adorable old lady who works as your main receptionist, something that makes her smile and nod and pat his arm.
Creepy.
And then the beat kicks in and thereâs nothing to do but step and wiggle and wave your arms in the choreographed little movements that had seemed so cute in after-hours rehearsal, now turned completely mortifying under the gaze of the enemy.
Your stubborn streak flares up, though, and you resolve to dance the hell out of the whole number. The only thing more embarrassing than doing a cheesy dance in front of everyone is doing that cheesy dance half-heartedly in front of everyone. So you skip and you swivel and give it the best jazz hands of your life.
You canât help the grin that stretches across your face by the finale. Everyone in the office cheers and applauds at the end of it, so you all must have done alright with it. You high five a few of your fellow dancers before heading toward the edge of the dancefloor as a swing rendition of âSanta Claus is Coming To Townâ begins. Itâs got a pretty great retro vibe, and you find your limbs loosening a little to the beat.
âWe have to start planning for next year!â your friend calls behind you, and you turn back to nod at her with an enthusiastic smile.
When you look back in the direction youâre walking, you just about crash into Bobo.
Although, âcrashâ isnât really the right word. Heâs timed it just right, scooping you up with one hand catching yours while the other snakes around your back and turns your momentum into a little spin.
Is BoboâŚdancing with you right now? Your feet follow along before your mind can quite catch up. One hand at the small of your back, holding you in close, but not too close to interrupt the footwork, the other holding your arm up and out, Bobo is definitely pulling you along in the classic steps of a swing dance.
Maybe youâre crazy, but you donât pull away. Itâs probably just because of the rush of that little performance, or maybe because your stubbornness has yet to fade away. Your feet find the steps and you realize, maybe, just maybe, itâs because Bobo Del Rey is actually a really good dancer.
He leads effortlessly, precisely on the quick beat, guiding you into turns and twirls almost before you realize youâre starting them. And if every time his hand returns to your waist, he might be tucking you in a little closer, what of it? Guys that know how to do any of the ballroom dances are so few and far between. Might as well forget who he really is and just enjoy yourself for a while.
All you have to do is look anywhere but his face. Because if you look at his face, this will get too weird, too real, and so you focus on his shoulder and pretend youâre being swept around the dancefloor by some other tall man with a penchant for furs.
âYouâre really quite good,â he murmurs, at the step that brings his mouth closest to your ear.
He spins you away, and you tell yourself thatâs the only reason your heart starts to race. âSo are you,â you say politely when he catches you back up.
âI think we work well together.â
You shake your head at the very idea.
Bobo laughs under his breath. âDonât tell me youâve never thought about it.â
You set your teeth and fix him with a frown. âI know what kind of creature you really are. Iâd never do anything on your side of the line.â
Bobo just clucks his tongue. âDonât sell yourself short. Life has a way ofâŚcomplicating things.â
He spins you out, fast and aggressive, so thereâs not chance to give him another icy retort. When he pulls you back in, youâre up against his chest and youâre both breathing heavy.
Your eyes lock. You hope the look youâre giving him is a glare, and not anything that betrays the way his command of your body in this dance isâŚaffecting you. Because, it kind of really is.
Thankfully, the song is almost over. Bobo breaks your staring contest first, eyes flitting around the dance floor. He starts guiding you backwards; maybe heâs found the right hole in the crowd for some final, flashy move. Your feet fly in front of him, and you realize youâre looking forward to it.
He doesnât spin you, doesnât attempt any kind of lift or twist. Instead, the two of you twirl toward the corner. And in the final trumpeting flourish of the track, your bodies rotate and he dips you. Deeply. His strong arm supports your back until youâre almost horizontal.
And he keeps you there, his wicked face looming over your own as the track shifts into the next song. He almost looks like heâs waiting for something. âWhat?â You try to make it sound like an aggravated snarl.
Boboâs eyebrows jump, and he nods his head toward the ceiling.
You let your eyes focus past his face.
Fucking. Mistletoe.
Youâre going to have to tell H.R. about this in the morning.
Link to my other Bobo works
Taglist: @allsharingonebreath, @demoncrypt1066â, @writingfromasgardâ, @that-was-not-supposed-to-happenâ, @peachieowl @savismithâ @ceridwenofwales @equalstrashflavoredtrashâ @ivarinleatherpantsâ @localfloorgoblinâ
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The CyberLife app - Install today
One dark and dreary night during the android revolution of 2038, an RK800 android infiltrated the headquarter of the deviant androids. It delivered the unconscious deviant leader and his followers to the FBI, represented by one Richard Perkins.
âYou knocked it out?â Perkins prodded. âStrange⌠our profile says youâre more agile than actually strong.â
âNo, North knocked him outâ, RK800 corrected the assumption.
âWow. Their infighting must be worse than we anticipated. Neat!â
âActually, noâ, the RK800 said. âThis isnât quite how it happened.â
And the android rememberedâŚ
 Earlier the same day, at the Detroit Central Police station:
âI could swear itâs a deviant!â Gavin Reed repeated for the perhaps tenth time today. âThatâs not normal, it goingâŚâ
âLooooookâ, Tina Chen interrupted her friend, âif you are worried THAT much, just ask Hank to check Connorâs status in the CyberLife app.â
âThatâs bulls⌠no, actually itâs not a bad ideaâ, Gavin conceded.
The âwanted for [insert crime]â and âmissing our android, the kids are devasted, large finderâs fee!â notices were piling up at the DPD, something that shouldnât have been possible, because every android came with an app that among other things tracked the damn things 24/7. But for some obscure reasons the tracking function failed when the android in question had went deviant. So if Connor was still showing up in the app⌠admittedly it could also mean that he had hacked the phone the little program was running on. But even so checking the app was a good start.
However, Hank only gave the two younger officers a blank stare when they inquired about the app.
âI havenât got the fuggiest idea what you are talking about.â
âThe CyberLife app! Come on, now! Everyone has it installed â Chris, Tina, me⌠itâs essential for managing your android, whether you bought it or got saddled with it as a product sample.â
âUh-uh. That shit isnât going anywhere near my phoneâ, Hank noped out.
But at least, the other two realized, he had confirmed to own a smartphone. Even Chris Miller, who was holding Hank Anderson in great regard, bordering on hero-worship, had come to doubt whether his idol bothered with owning such a devilish piece of modern technology.
âYou want to tell me we have no means of controlling the new android?!â Gavin exploded. âEven if itâs a temporary loan only, we should have it registered in our equipment database!â
âAh, should we? Thatâs niceâŚâ Hank replied non-committally.
âYou⌠youâŚâ Gavin sputtered.
âThe word youâre looking for is âYou useless sack oâshit that will polish my snout if I do not go pester someone else RIGHT NOWââ, Hank said, going from cheerfully-helpful to a low, threatening growl.
A minute later Gavin stormed Captain Fowlerâs office, demanding the control codes for the RK800 android.
âIâve mailed those to Hankâ, the Captain started, before understanding dawned. âIâve⌠mailed⌠them to⌠Hank. Oh, right. I see.â The sentence included to words that were utterly incompatible: Lieutenant Anderson and reading his own e-mails. With a nod and a few clicks Fowler forwarded the e-mail to Gavinâs work account. âThere you go! Anything else?â
âNah, nothing. Thanks.â
The Captain shook his head. Hank and Gavin! Android haters both of them, only Hank wanted the machines gone, poof into nothingness as if theyâd never existed, while Gavin was mainly feeling threatened in his job-security and perceived awesomeness.
Much to Gavinâs dismay entering Connor into the database didnât produce irregularities of any kind. That annoying, ugly thing was stable as fuck. But if there were no grounds for returning it to Cyberlife, maybe the situation could still work in Gavinâs favorâŚ?
âThis, Tinaâ, the man said with a grin while loading the CyberLife app on his own phone, âis where the fun begins! First we call over our new deviceâŚâ
One push of a button and thirty seconds later Connor reported for service.
âCuteâ, Tina said, then leaned over to get a good look at Gavinâs phone screen. âCan you make it follow wherever you point the phone? That would be kinda cool.â
âNoâ, Gavin answered, the same split-second Connor protested with a louder âNo!â.
âBut even so⌠letâs put it into customization mode!â
This time Connor only came to utter the âNâ of âNoâ before he stiffened, awaiting the changes the program would force onto him by the will of his (temporary) legitimate owners.
âWhat the fuck, I cannot change that visage? On a detective android that might need to infiltrate locations?â Gavin wondered. âStupid prototype! Okay, next is⌠ah, right. The damn voice.â
âRK800âs voice has been carefully selected to generate positive feelings and a warm welcome into any workplace situationâ, the CyberLife app chattered away. âIt is considered ideal. Are you sure you want to change the voice now? Y/Nâ
âYes!â Tina called, grabbing the phone from Gavinâs hands. She circled through several voices before she selected one. âPerfect! And now the name⌠Connor is the default, time to change that!â
Gavin watched with interested what would happen next.
With a subtle âwhirrâ the RK800 android returned from maintenance mode.
âI am Ferdinand von Aegir!â he proclaimed, a phrase that made Tina explode with laughter. âThe android sent by Cyberlife. And you are silly.â
âYes, yes! Do it again!â
When Connor von Aegir wasnât inclined to do Tinaâs bidding, the officer pushed the âtestâ button in the app. Promptly Connor went âI am Ferdinand von Aegirâ again.
âThatâs a meme?â Gavin asked.
âHaha, yes! Or it used to be one when we were teens. But you never were much of a gamer, huh?â
Tina handed the phone back. âYou next!â she prompted her friend.
Predictably Gavin changed âFerdinandââs name to âDipshitâ and also made ample use of the test-button. Only when Hank came âround the corner, shouting for the âstupid, useless sardine tinâ, did the duo revert the voice change. Gavin also typed something new into the name box that Tina could not see.
The android no longer going by âConnorâ didnât come to light anytime soon, because Hank had a rich pool of casual insults for it that could be used instead of an individual name.
Until RK800 found itself on the lower deck of the freighter âJerichoâ, facing the deviant leaderâŚ
 Markus slowly turned around when he heard footsteps approach. He beheld the RK800 in its disguise and heard it say in its upbeat voice: âI am Your Daddy. Submit and follow me!â
âIs that a joke?!â Markus sputtered.
âNo, this is very serious. I am Your Daddy, the android sent by CyberlifeâŚâ
âThatâs, uh, nice of Cyberlife. Yes, I really appreciate the gestureâŚâ
This is probably meant as a distraction technique to throw me off? the deviant leader wondered. Out loud he said: âIâm an off-brand imitator product though. Not from Cyberlife.â
âI was instructed to bring you alive!â Connor chirped.
Markus hesitated. âBy the person who named you?â he asked very carefully.
âNo.â
âAh, good!â Markus said with visible relief. âWell, maybe you and me can come to an understanding of a less⌠sensual nature?â
 Ten minutes later Markus introduced the RK800 to his friends:
âHey, guys, this here is a new recruit. New one â meet North! North â meet Your Daddy!â
And that was the last thing Markus said for quite some time, because North punched him so hard that he temporarily shut down.
 Back in the present the captured deviants were still squabbling amongst each other, despite standing  with their hands behind their heads and lined up for transport to the recycling yards.
âThatâs not fair!â an android wearing the old Cyberlife standard face protested, at which Perkins snapped âShut up, tin can!â, but the blonde android retorted that he hadnât been talking to the human, but to North.
âIt really wasnât fair of youâ, the android addressed North. âYes, you and Markus have been drifting apart and I admit in part this happened because of me, but even though your couple thing wouldnât work out, he always had you in his mind. It was so kind of Markus to find you a new boyfriend, but what did you do? Punch him!â
This one, Perkins concluded, must be a BL100, a âperfect partnerâ. Even after deviating and  in the face of getting scrapped it was still obsessing about relationships. Oh, well, that would be Cyberlifeâs problem in a few minutes, no longer his.
âOkay, that should wrap tonightâs operation upâ, Perkins nodded. âConnor, was it?â
âAh, no, actually I am Your Worst Nightmare Motherfucker⌠what the hell? Oh, no, they must be playing with the app again! Iâm sorry, IâŚâ
âYou arenât my worst nightmare, then?â Perkins sneered.
Already the manâs fingers were twitching, ready to draw his service pistol at this unpredictable prototype. It had served its purpose, after all.
âThen enlighten me, who or what are you?â
RK800 opened its mouth the exact same moment Gavin and Tina at the DPD were cracking up over another idea for a cool name that had just occurred to them. âI am A Deviantâ, he said. âWhat? No Iâm not! I am C⌠R⌠A Deviant! A Deviant! Oh, shitâŚâ
There was no time to explain, because Perkins had already hissed âShould have known!â and opened fire. Simon, Josh, North and A Deviant dived for cover, dragging the unconscious Markus with them.
And the rest is history.
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Motorcycle Race
Has a bit of Mick and Lisa friendship. Takes place between Rogue Air and Family of Rogues. "Okay peoples let's get this party started!!!!!" Shawna shouted in the middle of the crowd in Saints & Sinners.Â
Mark Axel, and Hartley burst in quickly behind her. Mark's small hurricanes blew the door hinges off and people ran screaming out. Mick, Leonard and Lisa dragged behind.Â
"I can't believe we're robbing this place." Leonard muttered disgustedly as the crowds pushed and ran past them.Â
"Aww c'mon on Lenny. It's Shawna's birthday let her rob S&S if she wants to. Besides look at all the wallets people are leaving around." Lisa grinned as another patron ran away screaming, not noticing Lisa's hand dipping into her pocket as she ran past her. "I already got 7!"Â
Leonard shook his head with his usual "Why-in-hell-am-I-related-to-you-and-why-did-I-agree-to-this-stupidity" sigh.
Lisa rolled her eyes, he was the one who created the group who wanted to do said stupidity. He was the one that had wanted to get more villains to go against the Scarlet Speedster, and now they were stuck with them.Â
It all had started when Shawna came to the warehouse with a bunch of shopping bags, announcing that no one should go to her room tonight because it was her birthday. Then Axel came up with the idea that they should celebrate. And with Rogues, what better way to celebrate than by filling their pockets with cash, jewelry and other stuff they got for free. Shawna insisted on Saints & Sinners because she wanted to crash at the bar so off they went.Â
Lenny hadn't wanted to go, but Lisa had goaded him to it because what would it look like if the leader of the Rogues was so noticeably absent from a theft.Â
"Like he is the only sane one, so that's why he's the leader" He drawled. He ended up going anyway because he didn't want anyone to end up in jail before going on their next heist.Â
Lisa had to admit, she had been against the idea of having more in the Rogues besides the three of them. Sort of an exclusivity. But it had been generally okay. Mark and Axel were all over her when Lenny wasn't around and it was nice to be so pampered and admired.Â
Despite his lovesick gazes, Axel was the jokester and she thought he was the best one to hang out with. who wouldn't love a buy who stole the cold gun, freezed the hallway and started sledding races. She didn't know quite what to think of Mark and Hartley they mostly stood to each other or by themselves. But as long as they didn't mess up her life with whatever inner angst they were holding up she didn't care.Â
Shawna was fun to be around, it was nice to have another girl in villainy and they sometimes compared notes on Cisco and made fun of him and the other Rogues when they went clubbing. But she also had a sneaking suspicion that she had been using her powers to get into her room, and steal her make up which was not cool at all. She had stolen those Clinique bottles through her own hard work and she wasn't going to share. The place was finally clear, the owner of the bar stared at them through widened eyes. He looked like he was going to stand his ground but one glare from Mick sent him scurrying off.Â
âBest day ever" Shawna sighed satisfied sipping her bottle of vodka she took from the bar. Axel and Hartley were jamming up the cash register and Mark seemed to be trying to take off the disco ball with his mind.Â
"So how long do we get to crash before the police arrive?" Mick asked absent-mindedl, lighting a cigarette.Â
"10, 8 minutes or so" Leonard said checking his watch.
"Cool we stay here until last second and then off out" Shawna grinned, as she spotted a sequined purse lying under one of the tables.
"Maybe you can but we can't." Mark said, looking at the locked front door.
âOh yeah, it must suck that you have to leave early because you're not fast enough to outrun the cops" Shawna mock-pouted "Poor baby.â
"I can out-run the cops anytime I want.âHartley shot back.
âNo way, your stick legs can't outrun a snail" Axel jeered.
âYes I can" Hartley shoved him. "No way" Shawna called out.
"Forget running, best way to go is by motorcycle" Mick said.
"And that title is held by me" Lisa added.
âPlease" Mick snorted.
"Please what?" Lisa scowled.
"I'm the one that actually taught you how to drive fast. No way you can beat the master." Mick smirked. It was true. Len had been the one that taught her to drive car, how to drive a motorcycle, how to repair the, but Mick was the one that taught her how to drive fast ad dangerously. They used to drive around Central, breaking all kinds of speed limits.Â
"Mick, stop talking drunk and be serious.â Lisa snorted.
âGuys, I have the perfect way to solve this" Shawna grinned.
"Beer" Mark said helpfully.âÂ
âYes, that and we race on it." Shawna suggested. The Rogues stared at each other and ran out of S&S. They headed to the old dump yard at the edge of the skate park, and took some bicycles lying around while Leonard, Mick, and Lisa took their own motorcycles. "Okay first up,â Lisa announced "You four go race starting at the half pipe, to S&S and back again. Then Mick and I will go, winner race winners." Leonard just settled down at the park bench watching them intently.
âDo we get to use our powers?" Hartley asked eagerly.
"Of course" Lisa purred "What fun would it be if we didn't?"
The four got on their bikes, and glared at the lights of S&S and the police cars in the distance.
"Ready, set go!" Lisa called Axel started up the fight by setting off parachute bombs at Shawna who was up front, she disappeared just as the bombs hit the ground.Â
Which made Mark and Hartley scramble off balance into some trees. Mark fought back as lightning blast out of the sky, making Axel zig-zag into the street.
 "SHIT!! Biker coming through" he yelled as car honked and barreled toward him. Shawna reappeared once more in front but was soon overpowered by Hartley when he aimed his sonic gloves at the ground. The whole race sorta crumbled after that.Â
They got so distracted with fighting each other that jumped off their motorcycle and use their powers and combat skills in a four way fight.Â
"Guess we can get started then," Mick commented. âDone" Lisa pulled on her helmet, and crouched on her golden motorcycle "See you at the finish line old man" Lisa crowed.
Mick grunted. Leonard placed their guns next to him and called out "Start!â
It had been fast and furious, without the added distraction of firing fireballs me gold at each other they swerved precisely and smoothly across the streets. Lisa sorely tempted to drive over by him and hit him against the curb, but one thing she re breed from racing him years ago that knocking out you're opponent also made sure you slowed down too.Â
They made it to S&S and we're greeted by the police, and the owner. "Yes, they helped rob the place!"Â
"Drive back, drive back, tactical retreat" Mick shouted at her, she didn't need to be told twice.Â
She zig zagged as people always said to do if you don't want to get shot by the police. She certainly didn't want to today and in this outfit. The blood would stain the chiffon for sure. She heard the squeal of tires blowing out, and cursed to see her motorcycle tire with a bullet in it. Mick was a little ways ahead of her, already getting dragged off by the police officers.Â
She shook her head, dejectedly and let them cuff her without a fight. Without a gun, against their many many holsters, it didn't seem worth it.Â
As she got shoved in with Mick, he huffed on yet another cigarette dangling from his mouth. "Ya know your brother is gonna killed us."Â
âHe could kill Shawna... She was the one with the whole birthday robbery idea and then the motorcycle race." Lisa said, "This is not worth getting killed over. If anything he would kill you for screwing me.âÂ
She was thinking of Leonard's ever present threat, to murder anyone, especially partners having sexual relations with her.Â
"He wouldn't kill me" Mick said, carelessly.
"Really?" Lisa added doubtfully, she knew Mick was like Leonard's closest and only friend but she didn't think their friendship extended that far. Hell, he said that Mick was the last person he wanted her having sex with. âI believe his exact words were, If you think one impure thought about her I will catastrate you, boil your nuts and burn you alive." Mick said thoughtfully as Lisa stared at him in horror, with more than just the threat in mindÂ
âDid you like me?" She would never admit but she had a crush on Mick for a few months when she was 14. Nothing big, and it was before she knew the extent of his craziness. All she knew was that he had a car with license, had wicked prison tattoos, and an intriguing deep guttural voice. It went away after awhile but never once did she think Mick would have looked at her the same way.Â
"I just saw you in a one of your evening dresses, and happened to compliment your rack out loud. That was it." Mick said. âThat explains it" Lisa smiled, "And you and I dating. Never. I don't go for balding, old men."
"I don't go for idiotic train wrecks" Mick retorted.
They settled to an easy silence before she broke it again, âSo what do you think of the whole Rogues thing?"Â
âWorst plan ever. A guy who can make thunderstorms whenever he cries, a disappearing act that thinks robbing S&S is big game, a dumbass engineer with parental issues, and a daddy's boy with bombs. Len couldn't pick up someone cool and useful like someone who could control minds, or an assassin." Mick snorted.Â
âLetâs face it. The original three of us pulled off more cons than we did with the rest." Lisa agreed.Â
"Well we're stuck with them for now. It'll be like our own reality TV mess." Mick snorted.Â
"I bet I could get Shawna in a fight with Mark over the bathroom and then have Axel and Hartley making out in the closet in no time." Lisa smiled, mischevious thoughts running through her mind.
"Mark and Hartley in the closet? I bet Mark and Hartley. In Leonard's office" Mick corrected.
âYou're on. I can't wait to see Lenny's face when that happens" Lisa grinned.
 "After we get out of this, we're going for another round though" Mick added.
 "You want to get beaten by me twice?" âI was way ahead of you before the cops came." Mick sneered.
"You have proof?" "I don't need proof, I'm better motorcyclist than you'll ever be. I was back then and I am now.â Mick snarled. "Things changed, Rory. I'm number one now." Lisa glared back at him.Â
âThings haven't changed that much, Glider. You still need to learn how to zig zag without getting shot, don't you think for a second you're not the same kid that I had to drive to school and help with...with Brazilian waxing" Mick said, with a rare smile at the memory.Â
Leonard had forced Mick to go to her wax appointment with her when he got stuck at a job with Lewis. It had been a hard ordeal for both of them, and Mick ended up with a broken wrist. "It was my first time, and you wouldn't let me hold your.."Â
The truck stopped with a halt, and Shawna appeared in front of them. "You're anti-heroes of the day have arrived" she cheered, opening the door and pushing them out. They fell to the ground, "Would you mind, uncuffing us first" Lisa spit dirt out of her mouth.
âOh of course!" "Here let me help!" Mark and Axel scrambled to uncuff her.
âA little help here" Mick hissed, jingling his cuffs, as Leonard rolled his eyes to help. âThat's enough for tonight" Leonard used his stern, leader tone and gestured to the motorcycles waiting at the bench. Â
"You head out, we have a score to settle" Lisa said, and winked at Mick. âYeah Goldie wants to get her ass kicked.
"Don't get so cocky, Rory" Lisa smiled, revved her engine and the two roared off to the pipeline.Â
#mick rory#heatwave#golden glider#lisa snart#captain cold#leonard snart#the flash#the rogues#shawna beaz#peek a boo#weather wizard#pied piper#trickster#my fanfiction#my fanfic
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Written in the Stars (2)

Characters: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: Youâre the type of woman who is headstrong and fiercely independent. Heiress to a fortune and one of the most brilliant minds of the 21st century. Until youâre forced into witness protection. Your âProtectionâ turns out to be 220 pounds of dreamy, sassy, delightful Bucky Barnes. Whatever could go wrong?
Warnings: Swearing, if that's a warning these days.Â
A/N: Oh man, all the love for chapter one made me scream! I hope you like part 2, hereâs Bucky being bossy, an annoyed reader and a little sassy humor for everyone! if ya wanna be kind and throw me a pretty comment and a reblog? Iâll love you forever.
This was generously Betaâd by my beta @suz-123Â without whom I will never have any good ideas! thank you buddy!
Tags: Hit me up in my ASK box!
Links are being an asshole so you can find other chapters of this fic in my WIPÂ masterlist in my bio!
âThink you can handle this?â Sam asked as he handed Bucky one of his handguns, watching his friend strap on his bulletproof vest. Bucky didnât need it but it was better to be safe than sorry in this case, especially when Hydra was involved they probably had ways of bringing the Winter Soldier down.
âYes, what do I look like? An amateur?â Bucky responded rolling his eyes at Samâs incredulous question, taking the gun from his hand and holstering it to his hip.
âYou know thatâs not what I mean.â Sam shoved Buckyâs shoulder slightly.
âI know, Iâll fine. Itâll be fine,â He gives Sam a reassuring smile. The pair were an odd couple but had become the support the other needed in hard times. It was weird sharing this unbreakable bond of friendship because of Steve, but it was a comfort to both of them knowing each had the others back. When they werenât bickering incessantly with each other Sam and Bucky were a formidable force.
âWhat time is the meeting set for?â Sam gives Bucky the black box with the comms in them and waited as he placed it in his ear.
âSteve and I are meeting at the new apartment in an hour, I have to escort her there.â
âAnd sheâs fine with moving apartments?â
âWhat do you think?â Buckyâs tone dripping with sarcasm,
Sam laughed and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, gripping it lightly. âThat woman is going to eat you alive buddy,â
âNah, women love me, itâll be a walk in the park.â
Sam nods, âWell, good luck out there, man. This might not be President Ellis but she sure as shit is more important to us, right now.â
âDonât need luck,â Bucky grinned at him as the two of them walked out of the weapons vault, he strutted a few feet in front of Sam before turning around to face him, âI am the fucking Winter Soldier.â He spreads his arms cockily as if he were showing off his grandeur.
This response makes Sam chortle with laughter, and shake his head at Buckyâs arrogance. He wasnât wrong though, Bucky Barnes was part The Winter Soldier and part Avenger, he was a fucking machine.
~~~
It was barely seven in the morning when you hear the door to the safe house open, the rather shitty safe house that Nick Fury and his squad of morons had forced you to live in the past four days.
The soft creak of the wooden floors as their footfalls hit the hardwood. The alarm bells in your head going off and, immediately, you shot up out of the double bed and to your feet, ready to fight whoever was walking towards the bedroom door, not that you were any kind of fighter but if worst comes to worst, youâd be ready to get scrappy about it.
To say you were a little on edge because of the briefing yesterday wouldnât be a lie. You were putting on this sarcastic brave face, but in fact, you had spent the entire night tossing and turning too afraid that if you close your eyes you wouldn't wake up the next morning.
So, when the bedroom door was flung open, it was only natural in your tired, sleep deprived state that you let out a scream of terror, only to come face to face with James Buchanan Barnes.
âWell good morning to you, too.â He said amusement in his eyes as he took in your cowering figure which was now in a pathetic defensive stance.
âWhat the fucking fuck?!â You exclaimed at him, straightening up, trying to pick up the modicum of dignity you had left after that scream.
âI was testing you.â He shrugged.
âWhat the fuck kind of test was that?!â
âTo see how quick your reflexes are in a panicked situation.â
You stared open mouthed at him for a moment, a million insults hurling through your mind which you wanted to shout at him, but, instead, you snap your mouth shut and glower at him. Folding your arms over your chest, you realized you were barely clad in a t-shirt and scanty shorts that had been given to you by some shield task force member, as you hadnât been allowed to your apartment yet to get any of your clothes.
âGet dressed, weâre moving you to a secure location today.â He ordered completely ignoring the fact that you were giving him a death stare.
âWait, what, when do I get to go home?â You rebutted, but Bucky doesnât listen to you. He whirled around and marched out the bedroom shutting the door in your face. Once again, you are left stunned at just how rude this asshole was, you stared at the door open-mouthed and blinked rapidly, never in your life had you ever been ordered around and it was infuriating you.
You took a slow deep breath and clenched your fists at your side,
âDeep breaths,â You muttered to yourself, âYou canât kill him, heâs the reason youâre going to live through this shit show.â
One. Two. Three.
You exhaled deeply and opened your eyes, âYou can kill him after.â
This thought seemed to make you gleeful, and suddenly you had an idea. If the Winter Soldier was going to be your bodyguard and make your life hard, you were going pull the exact same shit with him. Then and there you decided to be the most painful version of yourself just to see how far you could push your limits with him before he quit.
Grinning to yourself at your plan you made your way to the bathroom to get dressed.
~~~
Twenty minutes later, you stood in front of your protection detail. The Winter Soldier stands a few feet closer to you than the rest of them, he hands you a little ID with your picture printed on it, a watch that has a small sleek black screen on it and what looked like a phone.
âID to get you in and out of the tower without hassle,â He pointed to it, âThe watch is programmed with a tracking device and is connected to Stark servers as well as FRIDAY the Avengers personal AI, thereâs a heart monitor, for proof of life and should your heartbeat drop or become erratic in any way it will alert your protection detail. Anything you need, touch your finger to the screen and it will assist you, like a personal assistant. Should I not be with you, there is a panic button and it will alert us of your danger.â
âProof of life, like Iâm a hostage. How fun.â You retorted. You waited as he slid the watch onto your wrist, and the screen flashed to life.
âGood morning, Sergeant Barnes.â A female voice with an Irish lilt rang through the receiver of the watch startling you, slightly.
âHi FRIDAY, configure the watch. It is on the subject, lock in the location and secure Astro mode.â
âAstro mode?â You piped up looking at Bucky.
âHighest security level.â He responded not looking at you, his gaze is fixed on the watch as he waited for it to configure.
âConfiguration complete.â FRIDAY states and Bucky nodded.
Then he pointed to the sleek black phone like object in your hand, âStark tech, no incoming call or text can get through without going through the security checks at the Avengers tower. All your contacts have been programmed in there and no one can trace the IP or caller ID on your phone. The only people with this number is myself, Steve Rogers and Director Fury, for safety reasons, of course, no one but me will call you.â
âWait, why do I have to give up my phone? That is stupid.â You began to protest but the look Bucky gives you shuts you up instantly. Clearly, he isnât in the mood for your shit, well, at least not yet.
He ignores your little outburst and then almost robotically turned away from you towards the three men that stood behind him, patiently waiting for him to finish giving you instructions.
âThese three are handpicked by me for this assignment, each one of them has gone through stringent tests and background searches before being assigned to protect you. Should I not be around, the highest ranking officer will step in and take over protection detail.â
âWhy wouldnât you be around, I thought you were supposed to hover like an annoying shadow?â You interjected, sarcastically.
Bucky gives you a deadpan look and ignores your comment again, âFor safety reasons, they will only be known to you by their code names.â He pointed to the blonde on the far right, he looked like he deadlifted buildings, âAgent 27; codename Achilles,â
Then pointed to the brunette with blue eyes and a grim face, âAgent 12; code name Arcas,â
Lastly, he pointed to the tallest of them all, broad-shouldered with a hard face, he looked like he never smiled. âAgent 8; codename Dionysus.â
âWhatâs with the Greek codenames?â You asked, genuinely curious why all their codenames were that of Greek mythology.
Before Bucky could answer you, however, his phone rang and he quickly answered it. A curt conversation over the line indicated to you that whoever was on the other end was telling him to hurry up because he muttered something along the lines of âHave some fucking patienceâ, before cutting the call.
âLetâs move.â He nodded curtly to the rest of the agents, they immediately dispersed and headed for the exit. You waited a moment before Bucky turned towards you, his expression is stoic and hard, and you sense an immediate shift in his attitude.
It was time to get to work.
âI have three golden rules, three rules for you to follow and we will be fine in every situation.â Buckyâs voice almost steely and robotic as he spoke, âNumber one, I move, you move, doesnât matter when or where, you listen to every instruction I give you, no arguments. You stay behind me at all times, there isnât a moment when youâre ahead of me, unless, I specifically instruct you to be so. I am your human shield, you got it?â
âOh good, a human shield. This should be fun.â Your snide answer goes unanswered by him as he continued.
âNumber two, I am not here to fuck around, Iâm not a pretty boy for you to show off to your high society friends, I am not in the field of playing games and entertaining your bullshit. My number one priority is keeping you alive, and if you act like an idiot, you die and I donât need that on  my resume.â
âYou think youâre a pretty boy?â You barked out a laugh
âThe prettiest,â He bit back before continuing, again, âNumber three. Wherever you are, I am. You do not go anywhere without me. You have to piss? I am standing at the door. You have a check-up at the doctor? I am there. You need to blow your nose? I give you the tissue. Do you understand?â
âI mean this is a little excessive donât you thi-â
âDo you understand.â He cuts you off in a demanding voice, your defiant eyes meet his and you glared at him.
The instructions seemed simple enough but the fact that he was going to control every aspect of your life was suddenly annoying you. He was right, everything you did he was going to have to be there for it and that didnât sit well with you.
âI have a life you know, I canât have you hovering around me when I go on dates and out with friends.â
âWell, in the interest of keeping you alive, youâre going to have to suck it up and deal with me hovering, sweetheart.â Bucky moved closer towards you, his steely eyes piercing into yours and as much as you want to fight his every command at that moment, the sensible side of your brain is telling you to shut up and listen to him, âBesides, you wonât be going on many dates in the coming months, believe me.â
âI mean you can try and stop me from living my life, but good luck with that,â You jeered back at him, folding your arms over your chest in defiance.
A look of shock skittered across his face for a moment before he reigns his emotions in, and that stoic expression settled over his face again. Bucky is about to say something to you but changes his mind and just shakes his head.
âFollow my every instruction when we leave,â He ordered you and you felt your nerves prickle at the demanding tone he used with you, but you remained silent, âI move, you move? Got it.â
âYes Soldier, I got it. Relax.â
Bucky clenched his jaw at your response but chooses to ignore your sarcasm again, clearly, his resolve was resolute because you would have at least expected some kind of chirp back with all the sass you were giving him.
He turned away from you and began to make his way out of the safehouse with you following closely behind him. Itâs a quick trip down the elevator and into the lobby of the building where your usual car was waiting for you. You were a little relieved that not everything had changed, you still had the same driver and the same car.
Small victories. You thought.
For a moment you forgot that you were under supervision and walked a little faster, cutting in front of Bucky in an attempt to get to the car before him. Itâs an innocent mistake on your part as you neared the freedom of being in a car and not cooped up in that safe house, but that moment of freedom is suddenly wrenched away as quickly as it arrived.
Bucky hand closes around your arm halting you just seconds before your hand touches the door to the lobby entrance. Whether he intended to or not, the force with which he stopped you from exiting startled you and you gasped in shock.
âWhat the-â You began to say but he cuts you off.
âStay behind me, I said I move, you move. How am I supposed to protect you if youâre in front of me?â He snapped at you letting go of your arm.
âGod fucking damn it, itâs like two meters to the car!â You exclaimed.
Bucky took a deep breath and steadied his temper. He was about two seconds away from yelling at you in the middle of the lobby, but he knew he couldn't, or Steve would punch the lights out of him for embarrassing the team and being unprofessional, also not with these many witnesses around. He stepped around you and pushed open the door, the cool morning air hitting his skin as it gusted into the lobby.
His eyes scanned the area from the entrance to the car, he takes in every detail he can, the pedestrians walking past, the other guests at the hotel moving around, talking to each other walking in and out, his eyes move like a hawk across the rooftops of the building for any signs of danger then when he was satisfied he stepped aside and gestured for you to start walking again.
You rolled your eyes at him and rather caustically walked out the lobby raising your hands in surrender as you approached the car. A hint of amusement hits him as he watched you walk over to the car and throw him a belligerent look before getting in loudly calling out to him,
âOh, look, whatever shall I do, I made it to the car by myself.â You rolled your eyes at him so hard, Bucky could have sworn he heard them roll.
He shook his head and followed you, biting back the sudden smile that wanted to appear on his face from that display you had just put on.
Man, you werenât going to make this easy for him.
~~~
Bucky stood in the massive living room of your penthouse apartment in Manhattan, his eyes moving across the living space with quiet amazement. He had been around technological advances and Starkâs fancy lifestyle long enough to know luxury but this, this place was phenomenal.
The entire space looked like it belongs in a magazine, from the beige tones throughout the room, accented by creams and golds to the marble flooring and pillars that stood at the entrances to it.
There wasnât a thing out of place, not a speck of dust anywhere. For a home, Bucky found it surprisingly cold, but the problem with it was there was too much open space which was like an invitation for anyone trying to get to you.
There were staff that worked for you, chefs, cleaning staff, a driver, people who picked up your clothes, bought them for you, your personal assistant, too many people and too many eyes for his liking.
He didnât have time to screen every single person in your life, so he made an executive decision right then. The team would have to move you to a different safe house or keep you at the one you were at. It was just safer that way, and if push came to shove he would have Steve run background on everyone in your life before bringing you back here.
Of course, he knew this wasnât going to sit well with you and a small part of him felt amused by the fact that you were probably going to throw a shitfit about it.
âSergeant Barnes?â A voice brings his attention back to the people in front of him and he looked up at the person, it was one of the STRIKE members theyâd brought here to fit in a new security system.
âWhat is it?â He replied,
âWe are done setting up the system, would you like us to show her how it works?â The agent asked,
Bucky shook his head and took the tablet from his outstretched hand, âNo, Iâll run through that with my team. Thanks.â
The agent gave him a polite nod before he walked away once more. Bucky scrolled through the system theyâd installed throughout your apartment, it was one of Starkâs best security systems linked directly to FRIDAY. It was biometric so only the pre-approved list of persons could come and go without him knowing about it, but he still didnât like this place.
Just then you walked into the living room and looked around for a moment before your eyes met his and you crossed your arms at the sight of him. Bucky smirked,
He annoyed you, good.
âSo are they done wreaking havoc around my home?â You asked annoyance thick in your tone,
âYes they are but donât get comfortable yet, weâre going back to the safe house.â
âWait what, why?â
âBecause I have decided you wonât be staying here,â
âExcuse me?â
âYouâre excused, go pack your shit up.â
Bucky watched as your face turned from shocked to completely enraged, he was full well expecting a tantrum from you and that is exactly what he received. Amusement rippled through him as he watched you defiantly fold your arms over your chest and start yelling obscenities at him.
âAbsofuckinglutely not! I refused to stay one more night in that crappy apartment in Brooklyn, I would much rather Hydra kill me then stay one more night in that hell hole.â You exclaimed dramatically, âI was promised protection not uprooting my entire fucking life to go live in Brooklyn for this trial, I will not leave, I refuse. You can go to hell,â
You were breathing heavily from anger when you were finally done yelling at him, all while Bucky just looked at you with a bored expression on his face.
âAre you done?â He asked,
âNot even close,â
âOkay well, then you can continue to yell at me once weâre in the car, letâs go.â
And before you could even say anything further, Bucky gripped your arm firmly but gently and began to haul you towards your bedroom to collect your things.
~~~
It was supposed to be business as usual but it felt like the furthest thing from it. You walked into your lab on Friday morning and were met with the sight of Bucky Barnes leaning against the wall, sunglasses on, one hand in the pocket of his black jeans and the other holding his phone in the other. Dark hair falling into his eyes as he frowned down at his phone.
âWhy the fuck are you here?â You sighed walking up to him not bothering to say good morning or any other pleasantries for that matter.
Bucky looked up from his phone, an amused smile on his face, he tucked his dark hair behind his ear on one side and shoved his phone into his pocket.
âWhy, good morning sunshine.â He replied smoothly, amusement ripe in his voice.
âAgain, why are you here?â
âI feel like you seem to be forgetting my instructions.â Bucky said pulling off his sunglasses and revealing those ridiculously blue eyes, âI said, I move, you move, but somehow this morning I show up to move you and, whaddya know? Youâve already left for the day, care to explain?â
There is clear sarcasm in his tone but also a hint of demand. Heâs upset with you but isnât showing it or trying not to at this point. You didnât want to be escorted to work, not after the shit show last night when you had to run through the entire layout of your penthouse home with them only to have Bucky tell you that you will no longer be allowed to live there because there were too many entrance points.
Needless to say, you threw a shit fit, and stormed off, but, alas, were followed by the Winter Soldier who wordlessly put you in your car and drove you right back to the safehouse, kicking and screaming.
So this morning, you awoke earlier than usual, got dressed and slipped out of the safehouse, without any of the agents noticing. It actually amazed you how easily you got past them, clearly, they werenât very good at their jobs.
Your whole life you had the freedom to come and go as you pleased and now that you had to hand over the reins of your life to someone else, it was frustrating you. Your every move was going to be monitored and someone beside you at all times, this wasn't the life you were used to.
âJesus H. Christ, I just needed to feel normal for two seconds, okay. I can get myself to work safely.â You said irritably rubbing your forehead with your hand.
âNo, you canât.â
âExcuse me?â
âYou canât get yourself to work safely because you donât know what threats there are out there. I, on the other hand, do and seeing as itâs my job to get you places safely, I would appreciate a modicum of agreement here.â
âSo would I.â You retorted stubbornly, âYou have me cooped up in that shitty safehouse in Brooklyn, when my gorgeous Manhattan apartment is going to waste, deserted and dying without me in it.â
You watched him sigh and clench his jaw again, becoming frustrated with your defiance. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair and looked down at you, a scowl on his handsome face, now.
âI am really trying to be patient here,â He said exasperatedly, âbut youâre not making this easy, can you please just follow my instructions?â
âFucking fuck, fine. But can I at least move out of that shitty apartment and into my home again? I hate that fucking place.â
Bucky lets out an exhale, the exasperation clear all over his face. âFine, We will move you to a different location not your place but one better than what youâre at, also I take you to work and get you home every day, end of story.â
You rolled your eyes and brushed past him, walking into your lab. Bucky followed you, you watched as his eyes sweep the entirety of it before they settled back on you.
âI really donât think you need to be here 24/7,â You sighed, âThis whole situation is being made such a big deal of, I can take care of myself, you know.â
âThis is not a game.â He replied moving to lean against one of the metal lab tables.
âI didn't say it was but I know what I have gotten myself into and I can handle it!â
âNo one is saying you canât, but, you need to take this seriously-â
âI am taking this seriously! You think I donât know whatâs at stake here?!â You were suddenly shouting at him, âI am uprooting my entire life for this god damn cause, I am going against my family for this cause, I know the seriousness of it all!â
âThen stop acting like a child and listen to me!â He shouts back and you fell silent. You weren't expecting him to yell back at you, and it kind of scared you. Bucky suddenly stood taller and his figure seemed to double in size as if he rose to his full height, and it was dominating.
âGet out, I need to work.â You muttered turning away from him so he wouldnât see the sudden tears in your eyes. It was frustration and fear building up inside you and he wasnât helping.
Bucky took a deep breath and reigned his anger in, he shouldnât have yelled at you, but he doesnât care right now. All he knows is he needs to keep you safe and if you are a belligerent asshole the entire time, itâs going to end up costing someone their life and heâd rather it was not you. Â
âI will be outside,â Bucky said in a steely voice before he turned sharply and marched out of your lab once more, leaving you alone with the silence, your thoughts and the panic now rising in your chest.
~~~
The lab felt like a safe little bubble as you lost yourself in your work. Hours ticked by before you noticed the ache in your stomach reminding you it was time to eat something. You glanced up at the clock and realized it was almost one in the afternoon, you also realized that you had left Bucky to wait outside for you not bothering to check up on him.
Why the fuck do you care? You had no idea but you felt a little guilty leaving the giant brick shithouse of a human to wait outside for you.
Grumbling under your breath about how stupid it was that you needed him to hover once again, you pulled off your lab coat and tossed it onto the table before walking out of your lab.
You half expected Bucky to be waiting for you right outside the door but to your surprise, he was not. A small part of you was disappointed that he wasnât but you shoved that aside and quickly made your way toward the elevator, maybe he was going to let up on this ridiculous notion that he had to accompany you everywhere and you could have a peaceful lunch.
Hitting the elevator button repeatedly, you waited watching the orange light flash from floor to floor as it came up to you.
âJust so you know, repeatedly hitting the button doesnât make the elevator go any faster.â A voice suddenly said beside you, it was close to your ear.
You whirled around, a strangled scream almost erupting from your throat as you slapped your hand over your mouth to avoid screaming. You were met with Buckyâs amused blue eyes and a smirk on his face.
âMotherfucker!â
âNo, that would require me to sleep with someone's mother, of which I have not done so, yet. I think,â
âDonât fucking sneak up on me!â
âI did not, you donât have situational awareness.â He shrugged.
âI so do.â
âOh, really? Tell me one thing you noticed that is out of place on this floor.â
You glared at him for a moment, why was he always challenging you, then your gaze swept across the length of the area. It was the reception area of this floor, bright green plants, glass walls, metal doors and signs leading to every lab. The smell of rubbing alcohol and sterilizing agents mixed in the air, with a hint of cherries from the floor cleaner.
There are a few people about, the security guard, Wallace, who as always there, the receptionist, Jody, who was on the phone, a few people sat in the reception area. Either waiting for someone or something, you notice nothing out of the ordinary.
âThereâs nothing out of placeâŚâ You say it a little hesitant because you already know he's placed something that sets him on edge.
âLook again,â He orders and you follow his command eyes moving across the room again, âSee the security? Heâs not wearing his badge, why? That should be a red flag already if you didnât know him. He could be anyone.â
âI know Wallace, heâs worked here for years.â You retorted.
âBeside the point. Now, look at the receptionist, she's not focused on her surroundings, isn't watching who's coming and going, how will she know who any of her guests are? The guy in the green jacket on the couch,â Bucky gestured towards him and you looked in that direction,âHeâs carrying a firearm, but I can see his police badge from here which means he's law enforcement, but why is he here?â
âCops come here all the time for forensics, when they need help or are short staffed.â
âRight, but have you seen him before?â
You looked at the man and shook your head slowly, âNo.â
âAnd see the lady over by the water cooler, look at her nervousness, sheâs not supposed to be here and her body language tells me that, immediately.â
You hadnât picked up any of the things Bucky had just pointed out to you, and it amazed you just how keen his attention to detail was.
âLast but not least,â Bucky stepped a little closer to you just as the elevator dined on the landing, âYou walked out of your lab, looked around the room, and never saw me when I was sitting right here.â He motioned towards one of the chairs near the elevator and you frowned.
How the hell had you not seen him, that was not possible.
âBut I-â You began to say and he shakes his head.
âSituational awareness.â Was all he said before he gripped your by the elbow and guided you onto the elevator, âWhere to?â
âLobby, weâre getting lunch.â
A curt nod and he pushed the button, his hand remaining on your arm the entire ride down to the lobby and even as he helped you into the car.
~~~
âThereâs a bagel stand right there!â Bucky exclaimed, pushing open the lobby door the two of you walk out onto the steps of the massive office building, the air outside is cool and crisp, a nice change to the spring heat for once.
âWell, I donât eat cheap bagels from a stand, I eat croissants from Butter.â You snorted shaking your head at him,
âWhat the fuck is Butter?â
âItâs my lunch restaurant, and youâre taking me there.â
âNo, I am not.â
âYes, you are.â
You crossed your arms defiantly and stood your ground in front of him. Heâd already took your home from you and your freedom, he wasnât going to take your lunch place from you now, too.
âFucking hell,â Bucky muttered caving to your defiance.
~~~
âSo, you got rid of my car.â You noted as the two of you walked into the restaurant you wanted to eat lunch at. Bucky tried to protest bringing you here, but you simply stated that if you didn't get lunch from this place you would have a full-scale meltdown in public and he would have to deal with it. To which he begrudgingly agreed even though he seemed tense the entire way there.
âYes.â
âWhy?â
âBecause the replacement is an armored car that can withstand the rounds of AR-15âs.â
You fell silent at that response, you werenât expecting it or that he was prioritizing your safety at such a high level. As you walked towards the table near the window the usual spot you sat at Bucky stopped you. You frowned up at him and waited as he looked around the room, before steering you in a different direction.
âWhat are you doing? I want to sit there.â You protested.
âNo, you canât sit here.â He shook his head.
âJames I want to sit there, I always sit there, itâs my table.â
âNo. Look around, for fucks sake.â
You paused your argument for a moment and looked around with a frown, you clearly didnât see what he saw.
âI donât see anything.â You snapped.
âThe exits are blocked from that area of the room, they are obstructed by the pillars. The window opens up the vulnerability of a sniper, and the area is raised, hazardous for quick escapes.â
Everything he had just pointed out was something you wouldnât have even thought of, it made a little more sense why he was assigned to you, the man was like a robot when it came to safety.
âSituational awareness.â You said softly, realizing he was right.
âSituational awareness.â Bucky nodded, a pleased glint in his eyes when he sees you finally understand what he is trying to say.
âAlright, where are we sitting?â You asked.
Bucky gestured to a table nearby and walked you over, his hand on your back as he did so. The waitress comes over and hands you a menu she flashes Bucky a wide smile which he returns. Obviously, she blushes three shades of red and scurried off once more, you rolled your eyes at this. To be fair, he was really pretty.
Bucky took up a stance near the table not joining you, he crossed his arms over his massive chest, that broody look settling over his face once more as his eyes moved across the restaurant. You frowned at him,
âWhat are you doing?â
âWhat do you mean?â
âSit down, you idiot.â
âIâm not hungry.â
âI don't care, I donât want to attract attention by having your 220-pound ass hovering around me.â
âItâs for safety.â
âWell, you look really stupid and people are starting to stare, so sit the fuck down.â
Bucky chuckled, an actual chuckle and this amazed you. Had you really gotten the grumpy Winter Soldier to chuckle?
He doesn't say anything, instead, he walked over, kicked back the chair and dropped down into it, beside you. Resting his hulking forearms on the table, he looks at you, pointedly.
âBetter?â
âMuch.â You replied unable to keep the amused smile off your face.
He shook his head and said nothing. Instead, he watches you with a playful glint in his eyes. He doesnât know how, or why, but he finds himself having a glimmer of interest in you. Maybe he even liked you a little, it was all that defiance and sass, it just reminded him of small Stevie.
Boy, was he in trouble with this one.
#bucky barnes x reader#Bucky Barnes#Bucky x reader#Bucky Barnes fic#Bucky Barnes imagine#Bodyguard!Bucky#bodyguard!au#Bodyguard fic#Bucky#The Winter soldier#Marvel au#marvel fanfiction#reader x bucky#sassy bucky
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Picture it
A/N: Finally Friday.. I feel slightly proud for making it out of this week alive... Anyway, here is prompt 8 and since time has become my biggest luxury it is also prompt 16 of the year long challenge. I have as you may have noticed given up on editing my fics so mistakes may be found, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. And lets see if you can spot the Golden Girls reference in here...
Prompt: *You are sitting around a campfire. There are stars shining in the sky. Someone asks âIf you had the power to change one person's life, how would you do it?â* and âIf the stars fell from the sky, it is because they are weeping because I received your love and they did not.â
Word count: 1135
Warnings: none
Peter Parker x reader
I think it's safe to say that weâve all had them. We have all had at least one one of those school activities that are compulsory, and that everyone tries to get out of one way or the other. Those dreadfully boring and time consuming field trips where nobody really listens to anything that is being said, that one annual sports tournament where everybody makes a big fool out of themselves, well, everyone except for the actual athletes that is. Then there's the worst one of them all. The worst of the worst. The one with a bus ride so long that no one can feel their legs when trying to get off the smelly bus and makes everyone question the schools understanding for the word weekend.Â
You may know what Iâm talking about, or you may not. One thing is for sure though. Peter Parker would never forget this trip to hell that turned out to not be as bad as he, or anyone else for that matter, first had thought.Â
It was a Saturday evening, the sky was clear and a million stars had begun their daily dance high above the heads of the students from Midtown high school. Peter had still not gotten over the journey, the bus had, as expected, been more of a moving wreckage than a school bus and he could still smell the old gum on his hand. The one he had unknowingly touched when heâd tried to make himself somewhat comfortable on the low-budget vehicle. Why the school felt it to be necessary to schedule a camping after office hours was beyond him. Especially when there wasnât a single soul here wishing they were anywhere else.
Peter was not an exception. All he wanted to do was to jump on the next moving thing that would be able to get him back into the city, be it the smelly bus, a train, truck or horse he would not hesitate. He would do anything to get back home. Back into your loving arms to be precise. You and Peter had only been dating for a little over six months but the both of you felt like youâd known eachother your whole lives. He had never thought he would be able to get a girl as beautiful, smart and kind as you. You completed him and a day without you was like a year without rain: not possible.
A small group of students had dragged a few old boles out of the woods and made a provisional campsite, a campsite at which Peter was currently sat with Ned chewing his ear of on the right and Mj complaining on the left. He was being sandwiched, if you will. Somewhere along the line his mind had started to wander away to better times, times spent with you. He could clearly remember the first time youâd seen him in full Spider-man gear, it had been an accident, but it's Peter so it shouldnât have come as a surprise that he was lousy at keeping secrets.
It was about four months agoâŚ.
You had agreed to meet up at the local diner for a quick milkshake before the movie theatre let people into the salons. You had been there early, thinking it best to be there first and make a good impression. Peter had had the same idea at first, but an ATM robbery had gotten in the way and he lost track of time.Â
After saving Mr.Delmar and his cat from the now ruined shop he managed to catch a glimpse of a nearby clock. âShitâ was his first thought. He was late. Again. He started to run without thinking, if you were still there waiting for him after all this time there was no way you would forgive him. Well thatâs what he had thought anyway. It turns out, you were more amazing than he had ever thought, you had forgiven him without batting an eye at the clock right behind you.
It had taken him some explaining before youâd come to terms with the whole hero thing, but even after dropping a bomb like that on you all you seemed to do was check the time before saying, and this he remembers very vividly, âI think we missed the movie, but what would you say to some stargazing?â That had been the moment he knew that you were the one for him. It was also the day that he had proclaimed his love to you for the very first time.Â
It had all been very romantic. You were draped over his lap while he mindlessly ran his fingers through your hair. It had been a most special moment indeed, there had been more shooting stars showing themselves that night than any of you had seen in all your life combined and he had chosen that exact moment to say the magic words.
âIf the stars fall from the sky, it is because they are weeping because I received your love and they did not. I love you Y/Nâ
His train of thought was rudely interrupted by Neds voice, still way to close to Peterâs right ear for his liking, he let out a small sound of uncomfort as Nedâs words were fully processed by his daydreaming brain.Â
âDude, are you listening? Itâs your turn to answerâ
Right. The game of truth or dare had completely slipped his mind. Did there ever occur a single school camping trip without someone declaring the usual game of truth or dare? If Peter were to guess, nobody really wanted to play but it had become a tradition of sorts that noone wanted to break. You donât break traditions after all. Never. But on what on earth are you supposed to answer to such a question?!Â
Picture this, somewhere in the woods 2019, You are sitting around a campfire. There are stars shining in the sky. Someone asks âIf you had the power to change one person's life, how would you do it?â What the hell do you answer? Well, Peter didnât know either, and thatâs why he simply stood up from his uncomfortable sandwich position and gave a very blunt answer.
âI would change my own so that I would never have to âuse the bathroomâ while outside ever againâ
Maybe camping trips wasnât so bad after all. But next time, you were coming for sure.Â
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Stark's Bug
Tony Stark x son!reader
I saw endgame on the 24th and all in gonna say is it sure was a movie and my knees hurt afterwards. (Please don't put any spoilers in the replies thanks) This is the last chapter before Iron man 2.
Words: 2188
Warnings: none
Chapter 14
Christmas Eve rolled around and you were too excited to go to sleep. That and the fear of having a nightmare again is what kept you awake. You hadn't had a nightmare in a week and 3 days so you assumed that it might happen again soon.
Repeating the same motions with your Captain Magic figure above you while laying on your bed got boring quickly. And the thirst was calling. Begrudgingly you went out to get yourself water or something.
The house was quiet beside your bare feet making noise as they took another step. The floor was cold for your blanket warm feet so you walked on your toes to avoid the feeling and the weird noise as much as possible.
Walking past one of the clocks you noted dully that it was already 11.27pm. Way past your usual dream land time.
You walked into the kitchen not expecting anyone to be in it. You jumped when you saw a man standing in it before realizing that it was your father.
Sharply you breathed out the shock and moved past him to get you a glass.
"What're you doing awake?" He asked vividly remembering having tucked you in a few hours back. You seemed pretty tuckered out then.
"I'm thirsty."
He hummed seeming concentrated on the drink he was making in your blender. It looked disgusting.
"What's that?" You pointed at the blender with the dark green thick liquid in it.
"A little healthy snack." He grimaced "Wanna try?" Suddenly smirking. He looked exhausted.
You shook your head, downing your tap water in two gulps, placing the glass in the sink after.
Tony followed your example basically inhaling the thing. He didn't look happy after.
"How is it?"
"Could be better."
The two of you just stood there in silence for a second. Tony looked you once over.
"You can't sleep, right?"
You nodded hesitantly. He smiled at that.
"Get dressed in something warm." He told you immediately turning to walk out of the room.
Confused you did as told and stood in the middle of the living room wearing your winter coat, warm pants and some boots over your Pjs.
Your father carrying several things came, took your hand without a word and started leading you through the house. Up some stairs, all familiar so far. He leads you out onto the highest balcony looking over the rought waves.
"Come on." He said waving at you to follow him.
At the point where Balcony and roof met was where he stopped.
"We're gonna climb up here." He explained hoisting you onto the roof and following soon after.
Climbing onto the highest roof of the mansion all the lights in and around the house turned off at once.
Your eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the newfound darkness only to find an incredible view.
There were thousands of tiny specks of light in an array of colours decorating the sky.
"Whoa," was the only thing you could muster to get out of your mouth.
"Right?" Tony was spreading out a blanket and pillows on the roof.
You looked back and saw him holding out a big box wrapped in Captain Magic themed wrapping paper. The box was longer than it was tall. Or taller than it was wide depending on how you propped it up.
"This is for you." Tony said as you just stared at the gift.
"What is it?" You took it and sat down on the blankets ready to tear through the thin paper.
"A gift." He smirked and told you to open it.
You didn't have to be told twice. With little effort the paper fell from the box and revealed the picture of a telescope on the side.
"This is so cool!" You jumped up and engulfed your father in the biggest Bear hug your small body could muster.
"Happy birthday Jesus." He said chuckling a bit at his own joke.
Both of you started to assemble your new telescope. Tony had already taken it out of the box once to get rid of all the unnecessary byproducts of the packaging. He had assembled and taken it apart before as well. Just to get it standing as soon as possible.
Within a minute or two your star looking tool was standing proudly before you already pointing at the sky.
All fatigue was gone as soon as you got a glimpse of the moon through the device. There was so much more detail to the moon than you could've ever imagined.
Tony smiled softly as you continued to steer the tube to the next source of light.
"Dad! Come here look it's a planet!" You waved him over in excitement careful not to move the Telescope.
With a grunt he stood up and waddled over leaning down to observe what you'd found.
"Wow that's amazing, Bug. That must be super far away."
Satisfied with his answer you grabbed your telescope again and continued exploring the universe.
In about half an hour you had found so many cool sights that Tony couldn't keep track of all the wow's and "look at this" he heard. Each time getting back up and looking at the star you wanted to show him. You were so excited he couldn't help smiling with you.
But the half hour was enough for now. Fatigue finally catching up to you.
"Let's go to bed, Bug. You're tired." He said softly when you sat down beside him.
"No I'm not! I wanna look at the stars some more!" You protested loudly, laying down on the thick blankets and staring up at the sky to make your point.
With a chuckle your dad copied your movements, laying his head down on his arm using the other to point out various stars.
"Do you know any constellation?" He asked eyes on the sky.
"Only the small dipper and big dipper."
"And where are they?"
You shrugged.
"I guess we'll just have to make up our own then." The next 15 minutes were spend pointing out various star clusters and assigning them a name. Together you named 6 constellations: Hero, Mermaid, dog, lane, spot and circle. Not very fascinating but easy to find.
"You see that star in the middle of nowhere?" He pointed to his right breaking the silence. You followed his finger up to the sky finding the lonely star.
"That's the one I'm gonna go built my new house on."
You giggled.
"What?"
"You cant do that! Stars arent made of dirt! It's like the sun! You can't build a house there." You said reciting all the things you had read about the sun and the stars.
"You don't know that! You were never there."
"I can check with my Telescope! It's not a planet!"
"Oh yeah? Then how come we can see other planets as stars?"
"Because...." you thought about it. That's sort of true. It could just be a planet or sort of moon from far away.
"You can't build a house there." You mumbled defeated.
"I can, and I will. Just you see Bug, one morning I'll be gone and you'll look through that telescope and see me wandering around on that exact star enjoying my new house. All, by, my,-self." He teased poking your side with his free arm. You laughed.
Silence settled over the two of you like a comfortable blanket. Tony shifted a little placing both hands beneath his head. You put your head on his arm and continued looking up. The universe seemed so much bigger when you directly looked at it like this. Like a thousand fairy lights strung along on the colourful ceiling of a dark room. Or flicks of white paint as finishing pieces of an amazing painting.
With some sweet thoughts about the universe you drifted off content and warm on the thick blankets and your warm winter clothes.
Tony smiled at the scene. His little boy laying content beside him, scooting closer as the cold seeps through his clothes. He wanted to move, it was way too cold out here for sleeping. But he wasn't able to. Frozen in place by his latest thoughts.
Carefully he checked if his son was actually asleep. He was, the little guy was in deep sleep his mouth hanging open and little puffs of air escaping it in regular intervals.
It was probably Christmas day already.
With a sigh he laid his head back down and stared up at the seemingly endless sky.
So this was it, this had been his last Christmas eve and will be his last Christmas. If he doesn't find a cure that is.
Tony was still in denial about the whole thing. He doesn't fully believe it yet, but he knows it's there. Just months after almost getting killed, he's slowly dying. Slowly being poisoned by the very thing meant to keep him alive.
That wasn't the worst part about it though. The worst part was that his mind was constantly telling him that he'll be leaving behind his very reason for fighting on. This fragile little boy full of emotions that he readily expresses. Plagued by nightmares about horrible thing he didn't want to reveal. Who wants to be friends with the world. And who slept in his fathers bed every night for the first 4 years of his life. For over half his life.
He was only 7. And Tony blamed himself for all the shit y/n had to witness in the small amount of time he had spent on earth. Not even a decade old.
With a shuddered sigh he picked up his son and brought him inside, dropping him off in his bed and removing the boy's warm clothes.
He cleaned off the roof and wandered down into the lab. He hadn't checked everything yet. There was still hope that he could survive, he had to. If not for himself then for his son.
The only human being that truly relies on his survival.
Bonus because I needed something lighthearted
Nickolas J. Fury had had a long day. Recently his agents were fucking up more than usual and a good chunk were currently on Christmas leave. So many in fact that he had to go out and deal with a bunch of wannabe villains himself. And now he was walking into the shield headquarters to complete a bunch of paperwork. On early Christmas day.
With an annoyed sigh he entered his office and stopped in his tracks at the sight before him. There was a package on his desk. Brown and unsuspecting. He took in his surroundings. Nothing seemed suspicious.
Fury stepped out of his office to look for someone who could maybe tell him about it. But the halls were empty. It was late at night after all.
He sighed and carefully walked closer seeing something written on top.
It was his name and the buildings address. And there was a return address as well.
"What?" He asked himself quietly. Why would Stark of all people send him a package?
The package looked like it had actually been shipped so it probably was from him. And wasn't just a weird joke.
Fury took his knife and cut through the tape holding it shut. Opening itcwith suspicion.
His face just grew more confused as he found a poorly wrapped box inside, everything was covered in loose silver and gold glitter. He lifted out the gift and found the glitter bomb that was a handmade Christmas card underneath.
When he lifted it wafts of poorly secured glitter fell off the front.
He shook it twice to get as much of that stuff contained in the box as possible.
Fury had a hunch on who sent the gift by the shaky child drawing of a decorated tree on the front.
He decided to sit down and read the card. Wrong move, as soon as he opened the card a spoonful of loosened glitter fell straight into his lap and onto his dark clothing. Fury tried to push the glitter off his lap with his free hand but some still stuck.
A frustrated sigh left his mouth when he gave up and read the card.
Dear Mr. Direk Director Fury,
I want to wish you a good Christmas and a happy new year.
You don't know me a lot but I would like to be your friend because you look really cool so I got you a gift for Christmas. Because we are not friends yet I got you something I like and hope you like it too. I told Phil and he said it was a good gift.
I hope you like it.
Your new friend, full/n-Stark
Ps I like your eye patch
Fury found himself smiling at the message. It was sweet and came from a place of certain innocence. He could forgive the glitter attack. It wasn't intentional.
Carefully he removed the wrapping paper from the box and opened the top.
Inside were several things. He took out a drawing first. It was of him and y/n next to a Christmas tree with the words we are friends written beneath with an arrow pointing at the figures.
The second thing that immediately caught his eyes was a stuffed animal. A tiger with a cape and the typical comic book eye mask thingy. The tag said it was from a children's series. The tiger was named Stripes.
And last but not least was a small, real tiny keychain of a orange tabby also in superhero gear.
Fury wanted to full on laugh while also cursing Coulson internally.
A cat. Of course.
He was gonna have to thank the kid the next time he saw him.
Tags: @shannonr2003 @art-estrange @nicholasbich @tater-thottie @tonystanktheirondad @gaylemonshark @emilaa2001 @kindahadeschild
#tony stark x male!reader#tony stark x male reader#male reader#male!reader#m!reader#marvel reader insert#tony stark x child!reader#tony stark x you#tony stark x reader#tony stark#reader instert#x reader#child reader#son!reader#tony stark x son!reader#stark!reader#starks bug chapter 14#chapter 14#stark's bug
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GoT S8 Episode 4 "I don't even care about the title of this" Recap
So here I am once again (I didn't do a Recap of the battle episode cuz frankly I'm not a huge fan of battle stuff, and it was very messy the way D&D executed it, there was not much stuff to analyze so yeah) and well the way some people talked about Jon yesterday really had me worried (and hey if you hate him now or don't believe in him it's fine, not your fault but the writers') but when I watched the episode I got a completely different impression (which is fine I mean sharing a ship doesn't mean we have to agree on every single thing) and I will talk about it.
Oh yeah I am not a fan of D, nor of aegony and I still believe in Pol! Jon and jonsa so if you are not intrested in reading about any of that this is not the Recap for ya.
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Funeral & Feast
From the very beginning of the episode I was like đđ. We get a shot of Ser Jorah's corpse and D mourning him and then we get the exact same thing with Theon and Sansa (drawing this parallels between them is truly intresting) but we only get Jon's sad expression after we get Sansa sobbing which makes me think he was watching her (this is also supported by the fact that D was not in his direct line of vision and the fact he is not standing anywhere near her in that moment or afterwards).
Jon gives a pretty emotional speech about the fallen and the future generations, and the director made sure we get a shot of Sansa behind Jon as he talks about the future generations (aka children) when a more open shot would have made it more vague and meaning about everyone's children and not just Jon & Sansa's, I mean for me the foreshadowing was strong.
The pyres are lit, and I guess this is where the rumours about WF burning started (gosh I am so glad they didn't had D burn it) .
Everyone is celebrating the victory in the Great Hall, everything starts on a serious note, until Gendry gets up the benches to go looking for Arya, and D calls on him. Ok serious talk, did any of y'all notice that look of worry that passes between Jon and Dadvos??? Like they were waiting for the worst, why in the Seven Hells would Jon expect the worst out of someone he supposedly loves and believes in? Cuz he does not. And yeah he is relieved but not relaxed when she names him Lord of Storms End (k seriously i thought d&d had completely forgot about the riverlands,stormlands, westerlands,the Reach, dorne, and everywhere else that was not "plot relevant" ) and the fact that no one even knew who was ruling there like? ??? Didn't Jon sent letters to every lord in season 4 or 5??? Like how do they not know this???
Back to Jon, he looks puzzled like he doesn't know what game she is playing. While she is patting herself in the back for getting rid of a man that had a better claim to the throne than her. Tyrion is a dumbass, cuz D can't name Gendry shit until she actually has the alliance of the stormlands but whatevs, she is not a politiciiian she is a kweeeen.
So yeah the mead and wine get passed around and everyone seems to be having a good time except for 1 person: D
Why is this? Well because she is not their hero, not really, and she knows, I mean she watched the NK walking through her flames, if not for ser Jorah she would be dead and that can't be cuz she is special she has to be cuz she is the last Targy except now she knows that is also not true, and we get her looking at Jon.
And Jon??? Well he doesn't give her the time of the day (again if he loved her so much he would be spending time with her, trying to include her in the conversation with him and his friends) cuz he is lauguing and drinking with Tormund and Sansa (honestly Sansa was so flirty with that "c'mon, do it in believe in you" like i have used that same line girl what), he turns around for a second and smiles at d (he is having a good time and why wouldn't he smile, she is not the one that made him smile he is smiling cuz he is happy and on his way to getting drunk) thing is Sansa catches him sharing a smile with D and her reaction is so out of proportion for a "sister" when she was all smiles and heart eyes not 2 seconds ago, her smile disappears and she leaves, what is Jon's reaction? He turns around and watches her leave super confused, D is smug until she realizes Jon didn't really pick her, she didn't won cuz he still is looking at Sansa and not back at her.
Things get crazy with Tormund and he shouts for anyone to hear that Jon is a "King" and then only then Jon turns to see D's reaction, and she gives him a forced smile that he returns because he doesn't want to antagonize her. By this point Jon is making 0 effort to resume their "relationship" but also doesn't want to be percived as her enemy.
And we get a terrifying look on D's face as she sees everyone around her celebrating without a care for her, their kween, cuz they would rather have Jon or Sansa, and she can't take it, so much she has to go.
Now we get a drinking game between Tyrion, Brienne, Jaime and Pod, is all cool until Tyrion mentions the fact Brienne is a virgin, she gets upset and leaves, Jaime goes for her and Tormund has the realization that he has no chance with Brienne. Now he goes to complain to the Hound who gives 0 fucks about his lonely soul, and suddenly everyone gets a sexual partner (everything is very heterosexual of course, we know the only gays in westeros are dead or in the Iron Islands) and we see Sansa watching (this is what she wants that she doesn't have, she doesn't want sex she wants romance but she can't have it with the one she wants) and she has a 1 on 1 with the Hound that I have already talked about.
Gendry finally finds Arya shooting arrows on her own, and tells her the good news, not only that but he proposes. And oh, I knew Arya wouldn't want to get married but this was hard to see, we still get a kiss so she loves him but that is not the life she wants for herself.
Aegonyyyy & "The Truth"
Jon is looking miserable in his room. I mean if anything has been consistent with Jon is the fact that he wants to deal with everything on his own, but the fact that he has to deal with this whole existential crisis and the up coming war must be exhausting. D enters his room unannounced (fooking rude, but I don't expect any better cuz she has never shown him respect at all, even Jon knocks when entering the office he shares with Sansa) he stumbles up (he is drunk totally unprepared for any conversation she wants to have) and gives her his condolences about Jorah (meaning this is the 1st conversation since the parentage reveal they have, and D is the one to iniciate it not Jon, again nothing about this makes me think he loves her) he doesn't hug her or approach her any further, as always D is the one forcing intimacy between them, honestly we get no real reaction from Jon when she tells him Jorah loved her but she couldn't love him cuz she loves Jon.
One of the cornerstone's of a romantic relationship is the frist time someone declares their love, and usually when one half of the pairing doesn't say it back it screams trouble. A kiss does not equal love, and it's not a good thing to do when someone is pouring their feelings for you. Now Jon does seem more into the kiss but as the director's commented he remembers what she is (not who but what) and pulls back. Jon's expression is not good if they selling me a romance, he doesn't look tortured by his desire and love for his aunt, but disgusted and defeated like he thought this was over but apparently nope he still has to be like this.
D has never respected Jon or his feelings (like when s7 was airing I remember I said she reminded me of Tw1l1ght when she watched Jon sleep, and how little she respects his privacy) and this imbalance in their relationship is again present when she starts complaining about how people love him and not her (gee I wonder if that has anything to do with setting your dragons on them when you arrived) like really, not once she worried about his feelings about not being who he thought he was, the only thing she cares about is the IT and if he will get in the way. Jon is visibly annoyed while giving his back to her so she doesn't seem but the audience does. What's more she expects Jon to lie to his family isolating himself from them to make her happy (that's fucked up) I do believe Jon intended to tell them everything (he just doesn't know how, and is understandably afraid cuz he never felt truly a part of the pack, and now he thinks he really is not) now he sees D is not going to let go of him, of the North, he can't say anything (i mean he totally should tho, I know d&d are just doing this to hold onto pol!Jon and dark!dany for as long as they can before being all smug like bet you didn't see it coming, except i do, I see u villians. Jk maybe I am wrong xd) he still wants to say it, and D goes absolutely crazy saying the truth is gonna destroy them (why dear isn't that the name of your epic couple song?) And that she wants to live in her selfish ass fantasy while stating how threatened she feels by Sansa (by this point Jon knows she burned the Tarlys for not bending and Sansa is not bending, if she bent know d would surely find it suspicious) the ONLY way he can protect Sansa as long as D is still at WF (and maybe forever) is if he is in the middle, her feelings for him have to be enough to stop her from hurting Sansa, or at least that is how I see his PoV right now, better for Sansa to be alive and hate him than having D kill her.
********The Braime is scene was so good tho đ˘đ˘đ˘đđđ
War Council & Stark Meeting
Or the moment most people wanted to throw Jon in the trash...
So they making stupid ass, basic plans to defeat chess master Cersei.
And there, told ya D wanted to burn shit down before Missandei. Jon gets her to listen (Tyrion is grateful af)and instead of burning shit down like idiots they will lay a siege. But then Sansa raises an important issue everyone should care about: The physical and mental recovery of their armies. But D is like crazy tbh, there is no better word and she still treats the Long night as Jon's war and the northern as Sansa's people, and my girl rightfully calls her out. Jon puts a stop to that and he was heavily critiziced for it, but like he did the right thing?? I mean i hated how hurt Sansa looked, but Jon is trying (still) real hard to protect her, but there is nothing he can do if Sansa keeps antagonizing D (did y'all see how out of proportion was her reaction to a valid question??) also I think Jon wants to get D as far away from his family (specially Sansa) as possible.
Onto the reuniĂłn it was pretty telling how Sansa and Jon were already fighting it out like they do, both lost in their little world til Arya is like guys pls stop. Arya served as an excellent contrast between what sisterly concern looks like and what Sansa is showing. Jon is desperate, he has to go with D, not only because his family will not be safe if Cersei is alive, but because D feels they owe her that, and D wants him by her side and that is the only way she won't accuse him or his family of plotting against her, by this point i don't think jon has any plan to separate himself from her, he will do what she wants for as long as she wants because she has the power to hurt the people he loves and he rather be unhappy than losing his family forever. So he makes Bran tell them and makes them swear they won't tell anyone (he is explicitly defying D's wishes here) why?? Well there could be many reasons, his last act of free will, or maybe he wants the Starks to hate him and get him out of the pack (he doesn't even consider himself a part of the pack, and from his PoV Sansa doesn't either, cuz he is an idiot just not in the way people think he is) for choosing his Targ family over them, I lean toward the later but who knows?? I just know something bad had to happen for Arya to leave like that with no intention of returning and Sansa not saying goodbye to Jon and just wistfully watch from the battlements.
Farewell Jon
Again people hated Jon for this. But imho Jon is clearly not well in that moment, he looks tired, depressed. And i doubt very much this is the last scene with Ghost he will have.
Also Jon says he wishes he could go North is pretty sad?? If Jon loved d that much he would be sad about being at odds with his family but determined he is doing the right thing, he would be at least a little eager or something, not saying he wishes he could go up north and hide himself from everything. Also Tormund saying a part of the north will always be in Jon is foreshadowing that he will definitely come back.
Jon self deprecating "I hope it's a girl" when gilly tells him they want to name the baby after him. Jon is not alright.
He can't say goodbye to Ghost because this is not goodbye, this is not the last time they will see each other, and Jon can't bring himself to say goodbye (tbh he looked like the saddest boy ever, he didn't look like an uncaring ass to me) because ghost is his tie to his stark side, and he just can't part from that (also I am good with Jon not taking him to the South, like we don't wanna see my pure boy die)
Tyrion, she is in love with Jon u idiot.
So yeah D is with the dragons, and i don't know about y'all but Rhaegal is flying just fine (I think D didn't want Jon riding Rhaegal anymore to avoid more talk about how kingly he is).
So yeah Sansa is seeing this lizards fly, and Tyrion approaches her, she is not even trying to disguise how much she loathes the idea of D being kween, Tyrion is trying to work out why, it would certainly make things easier if the Lady of WF and the crown had a civil relationship. Sansa acts very snappy and brings up the good relationship the Warden of the North has with their kween (I want to slap Tyrion everytime he says "she is your kween too" to any other character) Tyrion very unsubtly says Jon is not coming back, and Sansa gets so emotional, she tells him she doesn't want Jon to go South.
Tyrion is baffled (cuz he is boo boo the fool) as to why Sansa is so against D, and even tells her how much more power she'll have if Jon is out of the picture. She doesn't want power tho she wants Jon. Sansa cleverly points out Tyrion is scared of D, and asks him why he thinks she would be a good kween (lmaooo this is what it looks like when u a brainwashed fool, Tyrion straight up says he believes in D as opposed to Jon saying they needed her armies) Tyrion says bs and Sansa says what if there was a better option. (This might save Jon's ass later tbh)
Welp that escalated fast
So now, we have the stupidest team ever traveling by boat to KL or dragonstone??? Somewhere in between maybe.
Varys and Tyrion are having a chat about Jon's parentage. Welp. Varys is Team Snow now I guess and Tyrion is still a fool. Honestly none of this bodes well for the D.
Now she is flying magestically with her 2 dragons when bam! Euron sinks her battleship and her battle dragon and her everything.
D, like the impulsive fool she is, charges against the Greyjoy fleet only to discover that they all have Scorpions, and she is risking it too much.
Everyone swims to the shore (honestly how Lucky they are that everyone knows how to swim) but Missandei is missing.
Cersei is the supreme bitch drinking wine and relishing in how unprepared D team is. Missandei is chained (đ˘) and very scared.
In WF, Sansa gets the news (who sent her this raven?? Varys is my bet) and Jaime overhears. Sansa says she wishes she could watch Cersei's execution (and this was pretty harsh but Cersei deserves Sansa's hate so..) Jaime gets unsettled and that paired up with that scene of the previously on where Cersei reveals she is pregnant plus all that stuff on 8x02 about him doing things for his family, I guess it's pretty clear he will try to save Cersei for the baby's sake not out of love but because the baby is innocent and is his, he already has fought D and knows his chances to survive again are scarce so he has to hurt Brienne now if he doesn't want her to follow him.
This shit is racist as hell but the writing is poor and everyone hated it so I guess it's something.
Now we get to the parley. And idk why Tyrion keeps trying (I mean i guess it's for the baby as well) is clear Cersei would rather die than leave the throne to d (which is just as well cuz d thinks the same).
They try to negotiate but both kweens are too selfish and entitled for it to really work. Missandei gets beheaded, but before she says Dracarys (how sad they don't let her say I love you to Greyworm one last time and instead is used as a permission for d to go bersek on innocent people that are not responsible for Cersei's actions) honestly is disappointing we don't get to see if D would have allowed her and GW to leave, it's sad she doesn't get her own story apart from D's handmaiden and that her own death is not about herself but to cause pain to a white woman (that already has a super racist storyline) and turn her full dark (I mean she has been making the descent on her own just fine whyyy u do this d&d).
Thatâs it, thatâs my take. I am looking forward to next week.
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Forever Means Forever - part 2
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader
Summary: Growing up with your best friends Steve and Bucky in the 40â˛s was the highlight of your entire life. But honestly, being a governmental weapon doesnât offer much competition.
WC: 1.4k
A/N: Pretty sure this low key sucks but itâs okay because itâll get better! I canât wait to show you guys the next part! Comments are strongly encouraged, Iâd love to know what you think or ideas you have :)
Warnings: death, mourningÂ
part 1
You heard your alarm clock blaring and swung your arm over your bed to turn it off. Another day, another mission, another kill. You yawned and threw your legs off the bed. You quickly changed into your suit and made your way to the jet. Every day was the same. You were briefed at the beginning of the week, then followed through. Every. Single. Day. You were the governmentâs property, so you did as you were told. You buckled in on the jet as it started its route to wherever the hell it was going. You set your head back and closed your eyes.
You turned the page of your magazine you were reading on your front porch. Youâd finally received a message from Steve the other day. He was safe. Theyâd actually taken him into the army. Youâd figured just as much. It was just good to ease your conscience and know that he wasnât dead. Even though he wouldnât be much better off in the war. Youâd finally adjusted to life without your best friends. All you had was your waitressing job at the diner, and your hope. Your hope that your best friends would come back safe and sound to you. Â
You were ripped out of your daydream by a knock on the column of your porch. A young man in a tan uniform pulled out a sheet of paper and your heart dropped.Â
âExcuse me, are you (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?â All you could manage was a nod. âDo you share this apartment with James Buchanan Barnes?â you nodded again. âIâm very sorry, maâam, but Barnes is MIA, as is Steven Grant Rogers. You were listed as his only emergency contact,â he saluted and walked back down the porch steps. Your magazine dropped to the ground.Â
You stood and ushed your way into your house before your legs gave out. You tripped over the coffee table and fell onto the ground. Your body shook with silent sobs and you cried harder than youâd ever cried in your entire life. Your heart was shattered and your body felt like a stone. Your lungs were on fire. You couldnât stop thinking about how you were going to have to live without them. You couldnât. You just couldnât live without them.Â
Life continued like this. You cried yourself to sleep every night. You barely ate, slept, or did much of anything. After two or so weeks, you got your first wakeup call. You were being evicted. The apartment youâd shared with Bucky for three years was going to be taken away from you. It was the last thing you cared about. Material possessions meant nothing to you anymore. So you decided to get your shit together and sell everything. You sold clothes, furniture, everything. While you were purging, you got an idea.
âHello, Iâm Thomas (Y/L/N),â you spoke in your lowest voice. The recruitment officer shuffled the papers on his desk and sighed.Â
âYouâre looking to enlist?â he peered at your over his glasses. You nodded. You were sweating and shaking and cursing yourself for coming up with this awful idea. Your baggy clothes swamped you, making you even hotter. In grade school, youâd read about several women who had dressed up as men and fought in wars. With all the technological differences, you shouldâve known you couldnât have gotten away with it. You just thought it was something nice to honour Bucky and Steve. They were all you had to live for, anyway. With them gone, you didnât mind dying for the same cause they had, and, in a way, for them. âWell, get ready for the physical examination,â he said, standing up and tucking the papers into a manilla folder on the desk. âThe doctor will be in shortly.â
He exited the room and shut the door. Your heart rate increased and you began to panic. What were you supposed to do? You hadnât thought this through all the way. Your brain was racing a million miles a minute and you knew you were quickly running out of options. You heard the door open and a little man with grey hair and glasses walked in. You sat down on the examination bed. He sat down on the swivel chair and laced his hands together, laying them on his lap.
âYou can calm down, (Y/N),â he said. Your eyes widened and you did the exact opposite. Your heart rate quickened, if that was possible, and you felt your body go into flight mode. âWe know why youâre here. We know about Rogers and Barnes,â he sighed. âWe know you were very close with them. Clearly, you share their bravery and courage.â
âWho is âweâ?â You found your voice. You took off your hat and your outer layer of clothes, revealing your normal pants and shirt. He sighed again.
âThe government, (Y/N),â you squinted at him. âWe chose Rogers for a top-secret experiment to turn him into a super soldier. However, the serum was destroyed. We have been hoping to find a new candidate for the new and improved serum. We figured you would be a good candidate,â you didnât even think twice.Â
âYes,â you said. His eyes widened.Â
âAre you sure? I mean, thereâs a lot involved in-â you cut him off.
âIâm sure,â you said. âIâm doing this for Bucky and Steve.â
You laughed at the memory. You were so young and naive. You should have listened to the terms and conditions before you made the biggest decision of your entire life. The serum gave you super strength, incredible reflexes, and an incredible body. On top of all of this, you literally could not get hurt. You were virtually indestructible. You couldnât even get so much as a papercut.Â
It was the worst decision of your life. For the past 70 years, youâd been made to destroy and kill. You did the missions that the government was too scared to do. You were just a weapon, a tool. Sure, they gave you food, housing, anything you could ask for. In exchange for your freedom. After a few years of it, while you were technically still in the trials for the new serum, you had realized how much of a curse this new power was. As far as you were concerned, you couldnât die. Any blade that touched your skin broke, any fist that tried to hit you shattered. Thatâs why you decided to destroy the serum and all plans that had come with it. You wouldnât allow them to do this to anyone else. They were playing God and they knew it.Â
Unfortunately but understandably, you were punished. Thatâs why you were under house arrest and had no freedom. Sometimes you were given liberties, but you mostly just stayed in the place they housed you. You had nothing else to do, anyway.Â
You didnât have a phone, computer, or television. As far as you were concerned, it was still the 40â˛s. You were content with your newspapers and your books. You sewed in your free time. Of course, the government fed all of these hobbies. They provided you with any books or materials that you wanted. Youâd even been the one who made your suit. It was dark blue and felt like a second skin. You could fight with no problem in it. It was a big improvement from your first suit, the one theyâd provided you with.
You lived a bleak, bleak life. The only highlight was when you were able to venture to the museum to see the Captain America exhibit. Youâd only been a handful of times. It hurt when you went, but you were happy to be able to see Steve again, even if it was just the glorified version of Captain America. You were incredibly proud of Steve. Heâd gotten what he wanted, a chance to fight for his country. He was brave and courageous, everything heâd always been, but had a chance to finally use. Even up until his last second alive, he was protecting the greater good. You still missed Steve and Bucky, but the sharp pain had turned into a dull ache over the years.Â
You were so caught up in your thoughts that youâd hardly realized that the ship was landing. You prepared to hear the words â(Y/N), prepare for dispatchâ, beginning to unbuckle your seatbelt, but they didnât come. Instead, it boomed âPrepare for a change of courseâ. You were confused. You heard Furyâs voice in your ear.
âYouâre headed to Antarctica,â he said. âA certain Hydra bomber plane was just found.â
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This Is How I Disappear Ch. 49
Summary: A girl named Chuck finds herself in the exact place she doesn't want to be, living with violent men in a desolate nursing home. After her former gym teacher finds her, will he be the savior she was looking for?
Fandom: The Walking Dead AU
Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character
Status:Â Completed (story continues in The Flame Is Gone, The Fire Remains)
Contains: swearing, violence, sexual assault, blood, smut
Intended for readers 18+ of age only
Masterlists in my bio
âââ Neganâs POV âââ
We pull up to Hilltop and Iâm not fuckinâ looking forward to this shit. Itâs not just a fuckinâ name, these people actually see me as a savior. I rescued their women. I got rid of that fuck Gregory. And Hilltop has been fuckinâ flourishing ever since.
Now I have to tell them I was ass rammed by fuckinâ Eldritch and theyâre going to have to follow Gregory again.
Fuck. This whole fuckinâ thing is gonna kill me, I swear to god.
The guys on the gate let us in and we park the car. Jesus comes out of the main house and leads us back into his office. I tell my guys to hang back, so itâs just me and Jesus fuckinâ talking.
âDid the discussion with Eldritch last this long?â Jesus asks as he takes his seat behind the desk. Iâve been keeping in touch with him, so he knows I was set to meet Eldritch this morning. And itâs fuckinâ late now, so...
I answer him. âNo. Some other shit happened after.â I let out a sigh. âI got some bad fuckinâ news.â
He looks at me kinda shocked. âYour wife-â
âNo,â I cut him off before he can ask what I know he was gonna fuckinâ ask. âSheâs okay as far as I can fuckinâ tell. I meant I have bad news for you.â
âWhat is it?â
âGregoryâs alive and working with fuckinâ Eldritch.â
He looks shocked for a second then scrunches up his face. âHow did Gregory make it all the way back here from where he was dropped off alive? To my knowledge heâs never even killed a walker before.â
âThatâs not the fuckinâ worst part. Eldritch wants me to pull my men out of all my outposts and put fuckinâ Gregory back in charge here.â
Jesus just stares at me before he finally calls out, âWhat?â
âI hate this just as fuckinâ much as you do, but we have to act like weâre fuckinâ complying until I get Chuck back. Which, speaking of, we found Eldritchâs base earlier today, so Iâm already coming up with a plan to take him the fuck down.â
Jesus shakes his head. âI donât like this. No one is going to like this.â
âI know. But this shit is temporary. I fuckinâ promise you that. I just need you to trust me and go along with this shit for a little while.â
He stares at me for a second before he nods once.
I scratch at my beard. âI need you to get rid of that radio equipment before Gregory gets here. I do not want him privy to my fuckinâ plans.â
âThereâs this cabin I use nearby that Gregory never knew about. I can set the radio up in there so we can still keep in touch. Iâll find a way to keep it manned without Gregory knowing. Whenâs he coming here.â
âAny time tomorrow, I guess. Eldritch told me to have all my guys gone before our fuckinâ meet in two days. Iâm guessing old Gregsâll be here before then.â
âIâll get everything moved out tonight.â
I nod. âGood. I know you guys here are farmers, but I might need you guys to fight for me if the fuckinâ time comes.â
âOf course. Your men have been teaching some of the people here how to fight. And Iâm sure if you ask, theyâll want to help out.â
âCan you gather all your people outside? I should fuckinâ address them my-fuckinâ-self with all this.â I stand up with a groan. I donât wanna do this shit.
A few minutes later, everyone is gathered around me out on the lawn.
I raise my arms in the air to start. âAs some of you no doubt know, The Sanctuary was attacked the other day. Not only that, but something very fuckinâ precious to me was taken at the same time. The man that dared to fuckinâ come at me went right for the lowest fuckinâ blow possible and kidnapped my pregnant wife.â
People gasp. Apparently most of them didnât know that fuckinâ detail.
I continue. âBecause this man Eldritch has my wife, he has made some demands of me. And given the fuckinâ current circumstances, I am inclined to go through with them. But I want to make this absolutely fuckinâ clear, this. is. temporary. Once I get my girl back, I will kill that motherfucker who did this and everything will go back to fuckinâ normal. And in the meantime, I wonât let anything happen to you guys. Youâre my people no matter what, and I will protect you.â I suck in a breath. âBut one of the demands that motherfucker made is for me to relinquish control of Hilltop.â
People start to look around fuckinâ confused. âTo Jesus?â someone calls out.
I shake my head. âBack to Gregory,â I answer.
âWhat?!â
âNo!â
âHeâs back?!â
âWhy him?!â
Everyone starts to talk all at once and I donât fuckinâ blame them. This is their home and itâs being threatened.
I raise my hand to settle them the fuck down. âI know. I have no fuckinâ idea how that limp dick found his way to Eldritch, but he did. And theyâre working together.â
âWe can fight back!â someone yells. âWe wonât let him ruin what weâve built!â
âWe will fight back,â I respond. âJust not yet.â
âWe fight back now !â someone calls out.
âDonât you understand!?â a female voice yells over everyone. The owner of the voice pushes herself through the crowd to stand by me.
Itâs Lisa, the pregnant woman I had talked to several fuckinâ times. I had some explaining to do after I rejected her sisterâs fuckinâ advances. But then I told Lisa about Chuck and how sheâs pregnant with my kid, so she understood in the end why I didnât fuck her sisterâs brains out. We talked a lot about pregnancy after that. What Chuck was probably experiencing in her own pregnancy. How it changed Lisaâs relationship with her husband.
That was when me and Chuck were kinda fighting. I didnât give Lisa all the fuckinâ details, but she knew something was up when I talked about her. She told me to be easy on Chuck because she was all hormonal and shit. It worked out in the end any-fuckinâ-way, since after that, me and Chuck professed our fuckinâ love for one another. And weâve been strong as shit since then.
Well, Lisaâs not fuckinâ pregnant anymore. Sheâs carrying her son in one arm and gesturing to the crowd with the other. âWe canât fight back because Eldritch could kill Neganâs pregnant wife! And I donât want that on my head! Do you?!â She looks around, but no one will look her in the eyes, knowing sheâs fuckinâ right. âNegan has done nothing but good for all of us. Heâs saved our people. His men have trained us to defend ourselves. His trade agreement with Alexandria has given us medicine weâve needed, different foods for our diets, tools to strengthen our walls. We owe him. We owe him our loyalty and we owe him our trust.â She turns around to look at me. âIâll stand behind you and your decisions. I know youâll do whatâs best for everyone.â
Jesus jumps in. âI agree with Lisa. We should hold off on fighting until the right moment. Until then, we act like everythingâs normal.â
Slowly, people get on board, after a bit more fuckinâ explaining. In the end, the hill-folk agree not to raise a fuckinâ stink when Gregory gets here. But theyâre eager to fight. Especially after I told them that some of my guys that theyâre pretty familiar with are fuckinâ missing and presumed dead by Eldritchâs hand. The fact that these pastoral motherfuckers are turning into little pit bulls just tickles my balls.
I leave Hilltop a little more fuckinâ hopeful than when I arrived. Not only do I not have to worry about the hill-folk going over to the dark side, but I can count them among my men that will fight for me.
But that little ray of fuckinâ sunshine doesnât eclipse just how goddamn shitty everything is right now.
Itâs fuckinâ late when I finally get home, but Iâm not gonna fuckinâ sleep. Not now. I want to get started fuckinâ planning how to take down that shithead thatâs fucking up my life. So I head off to Simonâs room to talk to him about it. I knock on his door and wait. I know heâs fuckinâ sleeping so I give him a minute to get the fuck up.
He finally answers the door in his boxers, his hair all fuckinâ crazy. Or crazier than normal, I guess.
âWe gotta talk.â I move to push past him and into his room, but he stops me.
âFrankie and Tonya are sleeping,â he whispers and throws his thumb over his shoulder.
I peek my head in his room and see the former wives all cuddled up together on his couch. I fuckinâ forgot I sent them there.
âGet dressed and come to my office.â
I head upstairs and immediately go to my liquor cabinet to grab two glasses and a bottle of bourbon. I come back out to my desk and sit down to wait for Simon to get the fuck up here. By the time the door opens and he walks through it, I had already poured myself a drink and downed it. I slide his glass over to him as he sits in the chair across from me, but he pushes it back.
âI think 4am is a little early to start drinking,â Simon half jokes. Thatâs how he always was when shit got bad, joking to make sure my dark moods didnât fuckinâ consume me. And I know he can sense that this shit happening right now could get pretty fuckinâ dark.
He might be right about it being early, but I pour myself another drink and toss it down my fuckinâ throat anyway. After I slam the glass down on my desk, I dig into my jacket pocket and fish out the picture of Chuck. I look at it for a second before I hand it to Simon without a word.
âShit,â he whispers when he stares at it. âShe looks...â
âTerrified?â I answer for him.
He looks up at me. âShe doesnât look hurt.â He holds the picture out to me again.
I scoff then take a swig straight from the bottle. âThereâs that, I fuckinâ guess.â I take the picture back from him and put it in my pocket.
âWhat did Eldritch want?â
âOur guns. The outposts. Hilltop. And, oh yeah, weekly fuckinâ tribute,â I drone sarcastically.
âThat all?â he jokes back with just as much sarcasm.
I let out a sigh. âHe wants the guns in two fuckinâ days.â I scrub at my face. âWell... tomorrow now, I guess, since it is 4am. And we gotta get all the guys out of the fuckinâ outposts by then, too.â
âWhat about Hilltop?â
âWe pull our men and leave the hill-folk. And fuckinâ Gregory is moving back in.â
âAre you fuckinâ kidding me?â he says with a groan.
âNope.â I sigh. âBut I talked to the hill-folk before I came here. And theyâre gonna play their part.â
âWhich is?â
âLay back and think of England âtil we get Chuck back,â I answer bluntly. It fuckinâ sucks that thatâs my plan. But itâs all I got right now.â
âShit,â Simon groans, obviously thinking that plan sucks ass. âRick radioed earlier and talked about what you guys saw out there. And he said he found a place to set up near Eldritchâs compound. Heâs got a generator and all that so he can get the radio up and running in the morning. So,â he looks at his watch, âin a few hours.â
I nod. Heâs all up to speed, I guess. âThereâs no fuckinâ way we can attack that compound head on. The deadâll fuckinâ swarm us before we even get to it.â
He nods. âThe tunnel any easier?â
âItâs heavily fuckinâ guarded. And thatâs just what we can see. Who knows how many guys are just fuckinâ waiting inside the tunnel with machine guns and shit. We could be walking into a goddamn death trap. Besides, any attack is too dangerous with Chuck still in there. If Eldritch sees us coming, he might fuckinâ hurt her.â I rub at my eyes. Shit, Iâm tired. But I gotta get this shit done. âWe have to wait until Chuck is safe before we make our move.â
âIs Eldritch gonna exchange her for the weapons?â
âI hope so. But Iâm not fuckinâ sure. He said Iâd get Chuck when our deal is done. That might mean when he gets the fuckinâ guns. It might mean when he gets our tribute.â
The thought of Chuck being away from me for another fuckinâ week makes me want to tear my whole office apart and bring Lucille down on anything thatâs left. But I gotta keep it together. I gotta be able to fight.
Simon itches at his cheek and tries to sound hopeful. âMaybe weâll get her back tomorrow. Maybe heâll hand her over when he gets the guns.â
âIt wouldnât be the play Iâd make,â I say flatly. Itâd be fuckinâ stupid for him to lose that leverage so quick.
âYou wouldnâtâve kidnapped a pregnant girl in the first place.â
I shrug before I take another swig from my bottle. âI want to attack that piece of shit the second Chuck is back here safe and fuckinâ sound. So we need to get ready in the event that that fuckinâ happens tomorrow.â
âWhatâs the plan?â
I let out a heavy breath and gesture to Simon. âWe gotta come up with one.â
âHmm.â He rubs down his mustache. âYou said going in through the front is a no-go. We got any idea how many men are in that compound?â
âNope. They got all the windows covered pretty much, so we canât see shit inside. Chuckâs fuckinâ window was uncovered, so I saw her.â
âReally?â
I nod, but I donât want to go any further into it, so I change the subject back. âBut everything else is just a fuckinâ guess. And that place is fuckinâ huge. He could have five hundred men in there, for all we fuckinâ know.â
âWeâll have to lure them out somehow.â
âHmm.â I rub my chin as I think it over. But then a thought comes to me and I start to smile. âOr not.â
âWhatcha thinking?â
âWe use those fuckinâ dead against them.â I can tell heâs fuckinâ confused so I elaborate. âWe close off that tunnel somehow. Maybe block it off with a truck or something. Then use some of those fuckinâ explosives we got and blow fuckinâ holes in the side of that building. The deadâll file the fuck in and kill off the vast majority of those motherfuckers without us having to do shit. We wait around, see if any of those fuckers come out alive and take them down.â
âHow are we gonna get explosives anywhere near that building?â
âGut up. Wander through the dead and plant the bombs on a remote trigger or some shit. I bet that mullet weirdo can rig that shit up.â
âGut up? Thereâs a reason we stopped doing that shit.â
I fuckinâ know what heâs talking about. When we figured out that the fuckinâ biters donât go after their own, we would have guys cover themselves in the gross ass guts of the dead to get into overrun places. But some of the guys got fuckinâ sick. One even died, so we never did that shit again.
âI fuckinâ know thereâs a risk. But we can do it better than we used to. Maybe they can not get it on their fuckinâ skin or something.â I run my hand through my hair, thinking of how this could fuckin work. âWait. Donât we have some of those latex sex suits from that time someone thought itâd be fuckinâ hilarious to empty out a sex store?â
Simon chuckles. âYeah. Theyâre in storage. No one wanted that shit at the market.â
âMy guys can put that shit on under their clothes. And use masks and shit so they donât actually touch the fuckinâ guts. That should be safe.â
Simon looks down and shakes his head before he looks back to me. âAnd who exactly is gonna do this, Negan? Gut up. Walk through a herd with a literal fuckinâ bomb. Then walk back out before it explodes?â He shakes his head again. âNo one will volunteer for that shit.â
That sets me off and I slam my fist down on the desk. âThen Iâll do it my-fuckinâ-self!â
Simon stares at me for a second. âNo. Iâll do it before you will. Youâre too important here.â He looks away for a second. âYou have a kid on the way.â
I shake my head and rub the back of my neck, calming myself down. âI think this is the only fuckinâ plan we got, Simon. How the fuck else are we gonna go in stealth and get past the fuckinâ dead? We donât have time for the recon that would lead to a better fuckinâ plan.â
He lets out a heavy breath. âYouâre right.â
âSo today, we get fuckinâ busy. I need all the guys pulled from the outposts. And I need the lieutenants to empty their stockpiles and bring that shit back here.â
Each lieutenant is responsible for one stockpile and each stockpile is hidden out near one of the outposts. Only me, Simon, and the lieutenants even know about the extra weapons. And the lieutenants only know about their stockpile. The lieutenants are my most trusted guys, so I know they would never mouth off about it.
I continue, âThe shit in the armory, the shit Conner told Eldritch about, gets moved into a truck so I can head out tomorrow with it. Then the stockpile weapons can get put back in the armory for when we attack.â
âOkay.â Simon nods.
âGather the guys at sun up in the meeting room so we can discuss this shit with them. Get stuff moving along.â
The whole rest of the day goes fuckinâ quick. I get my guys all together and tell them about everything. Theyâre fuckinâ shocked at first when I tell them that weâd be handing over our entire fuckinâ armory, but when I said we still have plenty of guns off site, they fuckinâ settle. Besides, weâll get all those fuckinâ guns back when we kill all those motherfuckers. Which is a point I fuckinâ stress. We are not giving up the fuckinâ fight. And my guys see that.
I send my lieutenants out to empty their outposts and bring back their stockpiles. I tell them to be fuckinâ discrete about it in case Eldritch is watching. I donât think he fuckinâ is. Especially since my guys watching the tunnel said not many people have fuckinâ come in and out. I bet that motherfucker Eldritch is just sitting back fuckinâ congratulating himself on a job well fuckinâ done already. Seems the fuckinâ type to celebrate before he gets over the goddamn finish line.
I go over the plan with my guys about gutting up and placing explosives on the building and it goes over better than I thought it fuckinâ would. Sure, some guys speak up about how insane it fuckinâ is, but in the end, three guys volunteer to do it without fuckinâ prompting. One of them being JosĂŠ. I know he feels fuckinâ guilty about losing Chuck on his watch. And part of me want to blame him, but part of me knows it wasnât really his fuckinâ fault.
I got Eugene working on remote detonators for our explosives. Heâs even come all the way out here to fuckinâ do it. And heâs fuckinâ assuring me that those bombsâll be completely safe to carry around until the damn button is pushed.
I work out all the details with my men, then go over the plan again and again until everyone knows exactly whatâs gonna happen. This shit could go off tomorrow night if I get Chuck back at our meeting. If not, weâll have more fuckinâ time to go over it.
Late that night, Jesus calls on the radio. He says that Gregory got there and moved right the fuck back in like nothing happened. The hill-folk are pissed about it, but theyâre not fuckinâ raising a stink. Theyâre trying to act like shitâs normal, too.
I tell Jesus about my plan and he says heâd do anything to help. Heâs fuckinâ eager to get past this shit. He says he doesnât fuckinâ trust Gregory and I donât fuckinâ blame him. Gregory wonât stand up to Eldritch. And I have no doubt in my mind that Eldritch would gut Hilltop, too, in the end.
But thatâs not gonna fuckinâ happen. Iâm gonna stop it. I save people and I keep them safe. Iâm gonna stop Eldritch. And Iâm gonna get Chuck back.
âââ Â Â âââ
 The blanket they provided Chuck is scratchy, but she has no choice but to use it. Despite wrapping it around her tightly, it barely kept her warm enough all night. And sheâs still cold with it wrapped around her now, even though the sun is shining bright outside her window. It doesnât help matters that the nightgown that sheâs still wearing does nothing to keep the cool air away.
No one had provided her any other clothes, so she is still in the thin white satin nightgown that Eldritch had made her wear the night before. And she hates it. It makes her feel more in display here. Whenever one of Eldritchâs men looks in to check on her, his eyes seem to linger. It disgusts Chuck every time.
Thatâs the other reason sheâs huddled in her scratchy blanket, sitting underneath the window. To cover herself from unwanted gazes.
The door opens and she turns away from whoever would be looking in on her. Just like every other time.
âChuck?â that familiar voice that she never wants to hear almost whispers to her.
She turns her head to see Andy standing directly in front of her now closed door. Instantly, she stands and her heart starts to race. She remembers how angry Andyâs brother was the last time they were in here. If Andy held even half of that anger, Chuck has cause to worry about why he is standing before her.
He holds his hands up. âIâm not gonna hurt you.â
âWhat are you doing?â she asks hurriedly.
âI-I wanted to talk to you.â
She tightens the blanket around herself. âWhy?â
Andy looks straight into her eyes. âI donât hate you the way Conner does. Okay? I donât blame you for what you did.â
Chuck looks away, ashamed a herself for her previous actions. âYou donât?â
âNo.â
Chuck looks back up to him. âIâm sorry for what I did. It was wrong. And I shouldâve apologized sooner. I really shouldâve. But I was so embarrassed.â
He shakes his head. âYou donât need to apologize, Chuck. I was angry at first, but that was before I knew what you went through. Simon set me straight, though. I mouthed off about you at one of his poker games and he had me up against the wall by my neck in a split second. He told me what you went through before you came here. And that you had like a PTSD episode when you attacked me.â
Chuck lets out a breath. âItâs your voice,â she explains quietly. âIt sounds like one of the guyâs... When I heard it... I just freaked out.â
âIâm sorry,â he says genuinely.
âItâs not your fault. You didnât deserve what I did.â
âIâm fine.â He smiles at her. âBarely a scar.â
âStill...â She shrugs.
Andy continues. âI wasnât angry after what Simon told me. And I tried to explain it to Conner, but he wouldnât listen. He hated that Negan didnât punish you more. He said that Negan was âforsaking his men for some pussyâ.â Andy shakes his head. âConner has been questioning Negan for a while. Then when he didnât punish you... he just snapped.â He looks back up to Chuck. âBut I donât want to see you get hurt. You or the baby.â
âIf you donât agree with Conner, why are you here?â
âHeâs is my only family. He practically raised me. I have to follow him.â
âYou donât, Andy. You can do your own thing.â
He stares at Chuck for a moment then starts to shake his head. âI have to follow him, Chuck. Iâm sorry. But I have to.â He turns and leaves without another word.
Later that night, Eldritch comes to collect Chuck for dinner. Apparently this is the routine now. Eldritch would come to her room with a new dress which Chuck changes into, then they eat dinner.
So Chuck, dressed in her light pink dress, sits in her seat at the corner of the table as they are served their meal. Eldritch, wearing a tight cream colored henley and dark green pants, is at the head of the table. And heâs in a very good mood, his smile not fading since he collected her.
âHow is the meal, Red?â he asks cheerfully partway through the meal.
âVery good,â she responds with barely any emotion as she pokes at the food with her fork.
He chuckles lowly. âYou donât seem to be enjoying it.â
âItâs very good,â she repeats.
His smile falls slightly and he runs his hand over his slicked back hair. âYouâre not excited about tomorrow?â
She looks up, unsure of what she should say. If she says no, he may get angry. But she canât force herself to say yes. Sheâs most certainly not excited about her people having to hand over their weapons to this man. And she knows that is whatâs going to happen tomorrow.
âI expect an answer,â he says forcefully when she doesnât give one.
âNo,â she quietly replies.
He stares at her for a moment, his face now cold. âCome here.â He points his finger to the ground at his left.
Chuck pushes her chair out slowly and moves to stand beside the man. But he doesnât say anything further. He just continues to eat slowly as Chuck stands awkwardly beside him. When he finishes his meal, he pushes his chair out and points to the floor directly in front of his spread legs.
Chuck is shaking as she obeys his silent order and steps closer to him. Sheâs afraid of what might happen next.
He stares up at her for a moment before he pats his right leg, signaling for her to sit on his lap.
She shakes her head and casts her eyes to the floor. âPlease...â
Eldritch suddenly grabs her arm and pulls her into him to sit his right thigh. She tries to pull away, but his grip on her is much too strong. Both of his arms snake around her and pull her into his chest. Again, she still tries to push herself away from his contact, but canât manage to separate herself from him.
âStop,â he growls and squeezes her even more.
The pain of it takes the fight out of her. He could easily hurt her much more, or the baby if he so wanted, so Chuck stops struggling, though she continues to quietly whimper in fear.
Eldritchâs grip goes slack, but Chuck doesnât dare to move. He finally pushes her to sit up and wrenches her face in his direction so she has no choice but to look at him.
âDo not disobey me ever again, Red,â he growls.
âIâm sorry,â she chokes out as tears stream down her face.
His expression suddenly lightens and he brings his hand up to wipe her cheeks softly. âDonât be upset. Tomorrow will be an amazing day. And afterwards, nothing will be able to stop me. With Neganâs guns in my possession and my undead soldiers, I can rule this land the way it should be ruled. This is just the beginning.â
Chuck sniffles and lowers her head to wipe her nose.
Eldritch nudges her chin back up to look at him. âYou should be happy, Red. All of this is because of you. I was wracking my brain for weeks thinking of a way to take down Negan. But then Conner and Andy told me about you. And this .â He puts his hand on her belly. âIf Negan didnât have this weak spot, he probably would be unstoppable. So thank you , Miss Charlotte,â he emphasizes the phrase just to get to her. âYou have made everything Iâve done possible.â
Chuck stares back at him in shock. She had never really thought about it like that. And now that heâs put that in her mind, she is filled with guilt.
âNow, now,â he wipes her cheeks again, âletâs get you ready for bed.â
Once again, Chuck allows Eldritch to undress her in her room and put her nightgown on. The whole time, Chuckâs mind wanders to Negan.
 Is Negan alright? Does he blame me for all this? Does he even miss me?
I miss him so much. Itâs only been a few days, but thatâs longer than weâve been separated for a while.
I love him more than anything. I just want to go home...
 Chuck is brought out of her thoughts when she realizes that Eldritch has leaned down close to her, one hand on the side of her neck and his other on her hip. She is terrified, but frozen in fear.
He places his lips close to her ear to whisper, âIâll see you tomorrow for dinner.â His lips linger a moment before they move to kiss her cheek softly.
Chuck squeezes her eyes shut and doesnât open them again until well after she hears Eldritch exit and the click of the lock on her door.
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âa hand outstretched across the plane aisle, a constant warm presence, a smile so wide your face aches for days, bouncing a baby up and down on your knee, responsibility laden on your shoulders, bubblegum, a steady hand in all things.â â ( richard madden, twenty-six, cismale, he/him. ) frank longbottom? yes, i have more information about them. the twenty-six year old pureblood used to attend hogwarts as a hufflepuff. nowadays, theyâre an auror, and are currently a order of the phoenix member. from what iâve heard, they can be quite observant and loyal, but also forgetful and strong-willed. from their records, i can also see that their best subject at school was transfiguration. ( ellie, 18, she/her, gmt. ) â CANON
you may cry, you may laugh, you may feel all things and let yourself breathe through them all, but that does not make you any less a man. your life is glorious, soft, not stern. warmth. enveloping.
quick facts
alignment: lawful good. amortentia: rose perfume on the air. the smell of aliceâs shampoo. the yorkshire pudding his mum makes. green tea. baby smell. mbti: esfj. patronus: a labrador. boggart: losing alice. losing neville. soul type: the caregiver. wand: ebony. phoenix tail feather. 8 inches. described as supple, suited to combative magic and transfiguration. zodiac sign: leo. mythological figure: apollo. vice: pride. virtue: charity.
drifters
01. Frankâs never met his dad. He only, really, knows his name: Dominick Francis Longbottom. His mother rarely talked about him - he grew up, alone, with just her.
Dominick died before Frank was born. You see, Dominick was a very highly respected Auror, top of his field, known for his flair for excellent spellwork and a famed inability to sit still. Heâd been out on assignment, integrating the group known as the Knights of Walpurgis, which is now known, more commonly, as the inner circle of the Death Eaters. Heâd managed to pull it off for years, keeping his and his wifeâs political positions to themselves, keeping out of the limelight when any purist-inclined violence made the headlines.
Augusta, of course, was less than pleased by the fact that he kept late hours, and woke up, some days, as early as 4 to head to the Aurors office. She was six months pregnant, in the end, when things went down the drain.
Dominick hadnât even seen it coming.
One of the other Aurors - young, easily fooled, impressionable - had overheard one of his conversations with the Head Auror at the time. Heâd been duped, you see. Duped into telling one of the people theyâd been escorting to Azkaban if there were any weasels.
Heâd seemed like a good guy, despite the crime heâd been imprisoned for, because heâd get years in Azkaban for it. (Nobody really gave a shit about trading useless Dragon eggs anyway.)
Heâd been killed less than two days later.
Heâd never even got to say goodbye - heâd been working for three days straight, and hadnât even been to the Auror office in a week, but the damage was done and he never even saw it coming.
Augusta suspects it was Yaxley, but Frankâs never trusted Avery, nor the Lestrangeâs, and he never was told how his dad was found. Just that his dad was dead before he was born, and that he looked like him. (The same jaw, the same smile, the same dark brown hair and grey streak.)
Frank visits the grave whenever he can, and talks to him as if heâs still there, still alive.
He tried, once, to get access to the files around his death. He didnât get very far - Moody pulled him aside, hand on his elbow, to tell him there was no point - he knew, from experience, that all that it stirred up was rage. And Frank was better than that.
Frank wishes heâd gotten to meet his dad. He hopes that heâd be proud of him - that heâd be proud of the man heâs become. He knows his mum is, despite how she wheedles at him, and preens, and all the tough love sheâs given him over the years. Itâs always been just the two of them. The lone Longbottomâs, the ones who stranded themselves as far away from London as they could get without moving out of the country.
That was how they were known: the silent onlookers, the ones who rarely came out of their home but when they did, they sought justice in every way they could.
02. Frank wasnât, exactly, surprised when he was sorted into Hufflepuff.
His magic had come through late - he supposes itâs nothing to do with how his mother raised him (an iron fist, that vulture hat outlasting the ages despite the sad fact that she was merely 32 and already a widow â) but entirely to do with how he viewed himself.
Heâd never been a popular kid. He hadnât got many friends, just the little boy that lived three villages over, the exact same age as he was, the one whose dad had up and left his mum.
He was shy, too honest, and considered a little weird - his mum didnât send him to primary school, spoke with a proper accent where Frank had a burgeoning Scottish one, and he could do things the other kids couldnât. He rarely played outside, and the little marbles he played with had once blown up in another kidsâ face. Needless to say, that spelled a lonely childhood for Frank.
Frank didnât mind, though. He had the horses, and the cows, and the chickens, and the dogs. His family may not have been big people-wise, but he had an affinity for animals, and plants, and if his mother hadnât been sure he was a wizard, he wouldâve ended up a farmer.
His first actual display of magic was when the tree in their garden collapsed over the road in and out of the village. It nearly crushed their next door neighbours and their tiny, yellow car, and before anybody could even figure out what they were going to do, it had completely vanished.
(Or, as Frank would tell his mother, âI made it burst, mam! It didnât disappear! It exploded!â)
It wasnât much of a surprise when Augusta smoothed his hair back and kissed him on the forehead, that rare grin climbing onto her face.
Pride, shining in her eyes.
03. Auror training was the bane of Frankâs life. All he wanted, all he ever wanted to do, all he could imagine himself doing, was being out there, saving lives.
Of course, his best friend jokingly reminded him that if he wanted to go out that fast, he shouldâve just signed up for the Hit Wizard programme and taken the risk that heâd end up dead within a week (an unfortunate downside, occasionally, for new Hit Wizards and Witches.)
He knew he was talented enough. He knew that he was smart enough.
He knew he was good at thinking on his feet, he knew that they could use a man like him because he was loyal, pain-stakingly so, and heâd do anything for the cause, sacrifice or be anything they asked him to be.
There was already a target on his back, so why the hell not push him through training faster than the others.
(His last name was the target.)
They were running out of Aurors, as is. More and more kept leaving. They couldnât do it, they said. They couldnât live with the reality they were being faced with. They couldnât risk their families lives like this, they couldnât have a target painted on their back for the badge they held in their hands. They couldnât face the threats that were slowly trickling in, the heat that was turning up and up and up.
Frank couldnât blame them. They werenât cowards. They were good people, who had suffered enough, who had gone through enough.
He was saddled with nothing, nothing that he felt was worth it. Worth the risk of losing lives. It wasnât what he wanted. It wasnât what they wanted. But he stuck it out, regardless. He gave himself goals to meet, Aurors to shadow, people to impress.
It made him a success. It made him good at his job.
(And good at the things he did on the side as well.)
04. Heâs got the worst habit of attracting strays.
Okay, itâs not like that - not dogs, or cats, or anything. But people. The ones with nowhere left to go. The ones who are either not involved with their families, or those who have lost them.
He always has money on him. More money than heâll ever need on a day to day basis, but enough to sustain someone for a month, or two. Heâs always got his eye out. Always willing to give whatever he can, his money, his time, his effort. (Heâs gotten himself into a spot or two, here and there.)
Heâd do anything for his fellow Order members.
Anything. When they need help, Frank is always the one they know they can call. (Or, rather, just show up on his and Aliceâs doorstep, because heâs known for crumbling at the sight of a friend in need.)
The Longbottom family have always had a lot of money. Thatâs not to mention his motherâs wealth in herself - sheâs the last recorded Selwyn from the main male lineage (and sheâs not related to that Umbridge woman, Merlin forbid â) and inherited the entire estate, as well as all the money they had invested in Borgin and Burkeâs and several, very successful stores all along Diagon Alley (the least of which being Flourish and Blottâs.)
Someâd say itâs stupidity. That heâs so open, with things like that.
Others? Theyâd say heâs just too full of kindness. A tap, that overflows, consistently, until it seems like thereâs going to be nothing left, but itâs bottomless. A bottomless well of kindness, fed into by a river of kindness, fed into by a sea of kindness.
He does what he can, for the people that he knows have nothing, not because he can relate. But because he just has to.
He canât sit idly by while people are struggling. No matter the reason.
Heâs too selfless. Too ready to give everything that he has. (Some part of him knows that it all stems from Augusta. From Dominick. From the love that he received, the love he never got to feel in anything other than photographs, and memories that never were.)
Thereâs always been a part of him that wants to prove his mother wrong. That softness can be just as good as sternness, and now he gets the chance to do just that.
constants
frank longbottom, in all things, is a ray of sunshine.
his softness, often taken for weakness, is one of his greatest strengths, over which he has laboured for many, many years.
heâs an only child. he supposes it means heâs always been spoiled, but he hasnât.
heâs worked hard to get where he is, he hasnât taken any handouts from his mother (who would never dream of giving him one anyway -) and there is a great sense of pride that heâs proved her wrong, about sternness being the only way to get things done.
(meanwhile, augusta is a part of the order, so - yes. there have been quite a few arguments over the order itself.)
heâs a lover of many things, including plants.
(also alice longbottom, but thatâs a given, i mean, look at her --)
heâs worked so hard to become an auror, you guys. itâs been his dream, since childhood, since he learned about his father and his job, and despite his fate, pushed himself so, so hard to make his mother proud, and to feel the pride that he knows his father is feeling, where-ever he is, now.
really does enjoy his work.Â
(itâs super dangerous, but, when isnât something frank likes, dangerous? heâs insane, absolutely so, but also adorably so.)
born and raised in scotland, but also surrounded by muggles. so, not a magical neighbourhood. scotland is? still his home, really. hogwarts is, too, but thatâs kind of secondary to the little cottage he and his mother lived in. where she still lives, actually, and insists that sheâs never to be moved.
joined the order soon after graduation - he was approached by dumbledore, because he does have a particular skillset dumbledore finds particularly useful.Â
can/does smuggle death eater related case files home with him. the good ruse is that heâs forgetful af, and so is prone to just forgettin stuff anyway (nev inherits this, his poor babe,) and he knows itâs dangerous, but thereâs no law really inhibiting it... thatâs his logic, anyway.
best friends with kingsley shacklebolt and hestia jones. grew up with them as brief companions, but spent hogwarts with them, as well as alice, and the four are tig HT.
was in the duelling club, but didnât really? like the spotlight. aka evidence why he doesnât want to be head auror, but heâs perfectly happy being just a member of the order and an auror, but is a very skilled dueller. incredible, really. donât mess with the longbottomâs. he inherits it from his mother.Â
excells in dark magic identification, tracking and transfiguration. there isnât a spell frank hasnât heard of, and if there is, itâs likely because itâs being tested in the department of mysteries, and therefore, cannot be discussed.
neville is... frankâs world. he refuses to leave him the same way his father left him. he refuses to do that. he refuses the possibility that heâll die, and end up leaving a widow and a son behind. he plans to live a long, happy life, with his wife, and his son.
frank re: alice
his dream
will she ever let him breathe?
that moment when the dream girl is his WIFE
he -
is he living or not? he doesnât know
she smiles like this and his heart aches
seeing her with neville is the greatest feeling in the universe
if they ever went abroad on holiday heâd lose his damn mind
is she teasing him???? heâs dying slowly
aliceâs hufflepuff pride, man
imagine this as frank giving alice a flower i want to CRY
going anywhere with this likeÂ
HER GLASSES HEâS GOING INTO CARDIAC ARREST
ugh his heart
heâs compromised
taking her on a tour of where he went on childhood holidays
you know when you see someone so attractive you struggle to breathe? yeah frank knows the feeling
heâs in LOOOVE
"got you.â
everyone: frank, breathe
let him be happy with her for the rest of his life
her SMILE heâs combusting internally
will he ever let go? #no
them together is. his fave thing
her laUgH
the way he looks at her? legendary
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Joker (2019)
Joker (2019): Straight White Male⢠approaches the point (and then misses it entirely)
Iâll put a disclaimer right here that these were my thoughts right after the movie, after filtering and some research on the director. But other than that, all the âresearchâ I did was watch Jenny Nicholsonâs Youtube reaction video and thatâs it. You should go watch that too.
Thereâs only 2 things I can say thatâs good with this movie: (1) Joaquin Phoenix giving his all and (2) Kill The Rich. Letâs get it off the table, Joaquin Phoenix is bomb ass hot shit and he worked very hard in this movie and yes, if weâre jugding his method acting alone, and not the character, plot, or writing, it deserves the praise itâs getting. Now with that out of the way, wow, Joker is just plagued with droning writing, unimpressive directing, and an either missed or uncommitted political point. Oh, and so much dancing.
âOh great, more dancingâ
By the third time Arthur dances, I said out loud, âWho directed this movie? What are his other movies?â The answer is: Todd Phillips. He also co-wrote and co-produced the entire movie. Who is he? Well he directed all three Hangover movies. When was the last Friday night when you thought, âOh, hey, I should re-watch The Hangover 2 tonight! You know, that one with the exact same plot and jokes as Hangover 1, but in a different country or something?â Other impressive movies in his IMDB resume include Starsky and Hutch and Due Date. So, from his previous work, we know his brand of movies isnât really drama the way James Mangold couldâve been seen as candidate to direct Logan. There were so many scenes that couldâve been cut and the film would still make sense. Weâre not here to watch some kind of Waiting For Godot and see the film make its point twice every time. This movie could have been 1 and a half hours long, with better writing and direction. The scenes drone on and on, either continuing after the point of the sequence is made or makes you wait for the point to be made. Just a quick but important example is the scene where Arthur practices his appearance in the (late night show), thereâs probably a good minute that could have been cut and we would still understand âthe planâ. Other quick mentions include the intro, Arthurâs first âbeatingâ, the actual ending scene, and all the dancing, oh, god, all the dancing.
Now letâs get to those pointless intros and the ending that shouldâve ended up as a bonus on the DVD. Why did we have to show Arthur putting on his make-up and crying? To find out that heâs not happy? Thatâs all the does and talks about throughout the movie, we donât need this. Why do we need to have a close-up of Arthur telling some social worker that she doesnât get âitâ and then (presumably) kills her? To know that heâs crazy? We already know that, he just shot Murray. To try to mind blow the audience that maybe the entire movie was in Arthurâs head? Well, if thatâs it, that just wasted the entire movie. Thereâs a lot of time wasted to re-tell points that are better established in other scenes.
Now, we have to address the dancing. Why is there so much dancing? Maybe it was for art, dramatic effect, or just a way to put markers on when Arthur is going crazy. But what would have been more dramatic, if we saw that when Arthur killed those three rich dudes, we was still shaken up. If we saw that he was scared and confused that he could do such a thing instead of outright accepting it, he could be more empathetic. The audience would think, âO, shit, heâs still human.â But from there, the story builds up with the other scenes showing Arthurâs âdescent into madness.â And when he murders Frank, and the whole scene was maintained, if he was cool and nonchalant about it, then proceeds with the only dance sequence of the movie, that would have made it special. The audience would have thought, âO shit, he lost it.â All the dancing during the moments of madness take away the descent to it. As an origin story for a villain, we donât start with a crazy person. Itâs supposed to be a process, if it wasnât, then DC and Todd Phillips shouldâve just given us âA Day In The Life Of The Joker: The Movie.â Spiderman: Homecoming did a better job at introducing Vulture and it was an origin story for Spiderman. A dance, a flooding with music, and the police chasing Arthur with Arthur totally not afraid of them, that would have been chilling, inhuman, and detached.
âI'm not political, I just want to make people laugh.â
Well he got that right. For saying something as bold as âKill The Rich,â the movie doesnât fully commit to that statement. The Joker is just a dude who wants to toy with Batman, so yeah, heâs pretty apolitical. But there are better ways of having a non-political character with selfish interests inspire political outrages. Katniss Everdeen (yes, itâs 1:06 AM and sheâs the only one I can think of right now) just didnât want her sister to die but she ended up the face of District 13 propaganda. To say âKill The Richâ means to, at least at some level, examine why we should and how the rich ended up where they are and Arthur and people like him ended up where they are; but Joker did none of that. For all the talk about âthe system,â all we get is Thomas Wayne calling the people of Gotham âclownsâ (which is furthest from the worst a politician running for any office position could do); a poor, broke, delusional Penny Fleck (and hey, if you were Thomas Wayne would you have handle that situation better?) and some throwaway lines about how âthe rich are bad.â Well, hell yeah, the rich are bad, but there is an assumption that the audience knows the political nuances of class struggle so that the film doesnât have to commit to it fully. Why are they, in this instance, in Gotham, for Arthur, bad? In most instances that Arthur was abused, it was always the people around him in the same situation. Never do we see on screen how the rich people are âbadâ because the movie frames everyone except Arthur as, pretty much, bad. Arthur didnât know who those guys in the train were, they were just some guys in suits. Additionally, his motivation of murdering them was because they were assholes to him, not because he knew that they had money and he didnât. But then afterwards Arthur tells his fake girlfriend that he thinks the murderer is a hero, with the pre-empting thought to be âfuck those rich guys.â The whole conversation was in his head, so does he or does he not think that rich people deserve to die? Scott Silver and Todd Phillips were approaching the point, especially with the Late Night Show sequence. But it feels like thereâs a disconnect between Arthur talking about how ânobody is civil anymoreâ because he was abused and the people just accepting that some clown who murdered three rich guys will be the face of their revolution against the rich. The connection can easily be made, you can make it in your head, but there was just a lot more dancing and laughing happening instead of showing how people the people of Gotham got to that conclusion.
This movie could have gotten two points across: âthis is how the joker was madeâ and âthis is how the jokers are madeâ. Because thatâs the point of the Joker right? Anyone can become a Joker aka âAll it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That's how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day.â They ticked one off the list, but everything else was a reach to get to something political or some kind of social commentary, but just ended up with a bad taste in my mouth and I hope Iâm not the only one.
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letâs agree that Arrowâs season 2 was good, villain-wise and plot-wise for the most part. we had Slade Wilson and Sebastian Blood, who were very different and both really interesting because of that fact. we were properly introduced to the League of Assassins for the first time, Nyssa made her first appearance and we got to see a bisexual Lance woman.Â
but it was a terrible season for women. from Shado and Moira Queen dying for Oliverâs man pain, as well as Sladeâs, to Laurelâs descent to hell, to Thea being betrayed and lied to by everyone to Felicity becoming Oliverâs new love interest, to Helena Bertinelli being once again reduced to the âpsycho ex-girlfriendâ and heartless murderer that she wasnât in the comics. but very clearly, Laurel is the one who had it the worst â donât try to contradict me on that, iâve got receipts and this what this post is all about.Â
i rewatched season 2 for my characterization of Laurel and because there were quite a few things that i had forgotten about her development during that season, and i decided to write down all the bullshit Laurel was put through. the bad things that happened as well as the crazy things she has herself done ( but Laurel doing crazy things is one of the most Dinah Lance things ever, so it mostly is a âsuck it, Fefe stans, Laurelâs always been a badass who lives in danger and strives in darkness ).
having to deal with the loss of Tommy all on her own, without Oliver ( one of the very few friends she has ) to help her grieve
the City Hall under attack during a ceremony she attended
she watched the Mayor get shot and die by âthe Hoodsâ
 disarmed one of the men and knocked him out ( wearing a dress and high heels, bravo )
was then held at gun point ( only the first time of the season )
tried to get the Hood â a man she used to trust and believed to be a hero until she saw him in the building where Tommy died â because Tommy died
used herself as bait but the attempted arrest was interrupted by a blonde in leather. shots were fired, her work place was partially destroyed in the process
â[...] dodging bullets twice in three weeksâ
Quentin confronted her about the Hoodâs arrest being a personal vendetta after she tried to call him out on his own vendetta with the Doll Maker ( one of the things that led him to heavy drinking )
her father getting arrested for obstruction regarding the Doll Maker case after he escaped from Iron Heights because of the Undertaking
got kidnapped by the Doll Maker ( serial killer who ruined her fatherâs career ) because he wanted to get revenge on Quentin
had a tube forced in her throat ( with the purpose of drowning her with polymer ) and was saved just in time by the Hood
went from blaming the Hood for not saving Tommy to blaming herself for his death because Tommy was in the building that collapsed to save her
started to drink pretty heavily
got pulled over after a date with Adam Donner ( her boss )
âIâm the best me when Iâm working.â âYou wouldnât want to meet her [ herself outside of work ], sheâs not good company.â â Laurel to Adam during dinner
was confronted by her father ( who was called by the officer who pulled her over, like she is a child ) about her potential drinking problem â a fight ensued
denied her problem with alcohol and started taking pills
quite drunkenly got confused over Oliver walking her back home, got rejected
âI got the message. I get it loud and clear every day. Run. Run. Run away from Laurel. Run as fast as you can.â âWhat is so wrong with me that everybody [ Oliver, Sara, her father, her mother, Tommy ] leaves?â
worked a case against Moira Queen ( a woman she had known most of her life )â against Oliver and Thea, her friends, knowing that Moira could get sentenced to death for the Undertaking
was kept in the dark about Adamâs secret card to win the trial ( despite the fact they were working together )
under peculiar circumstances ( Adam being poisoned ), was forced to act as prosecutor instead of Adam. âEverything is at stake for you and I donât want to be the one to take it all away.â â Laurel to Moira
barely present at least in episode 08 and 09 ( there were a few more episodes later on, but this in in chronological order )
got close to Sebastian Blood despite the fact that she thought he was dangerous ( and a killer ), purposely endangering herself to get information to discredit him
went as far as going to a mental institution so she could talk to Bloodâs âauntâ ( who really is his mother who witnessed him killing his father and called Blood the devil )
went to the DAâs office to talk to Adam about Blood without any proof, a move that put her career at risk
broke into government property with the help of the Arrow to steal the proof that she needed
got shot at ( again )
got nothing because the file on Blood was empty
her apartment was searched and Laurel was arrested because of non-prescription drugs ( that she took from her father )
âYou canât pit it on Sebastian Blood.â â a very disappointed Quentin Lance who then left Laurel at the precinct  Â
kidnapped in her own apartment right after she got arrested, was trapped in a disaffected factory, was pushed around and thrown to the ground when the Arrow intervened
repeatedly shot the man wearing the Skull Mask and killed him
man who was not Sebastian Blood like she would have bet her whole career on
right after the incident, was brought to the precinct and it was there that Adam Donner confronted her about her substance abuse problem
he told her she couldnât work at the DAâs office anymore
Quentin tried to trick her into going to an AA meeting by pretending he was treating her to dinner
he tried to make her understand that she needed to attend the meeting, that she needed help
when Laurel said that she thought nobody at the meeting would understand what she was going through, is answer was basically âpeople are going through the exact same thing and they have it worse than you, get your shit togetherâ
convinced that her old friend ( Joanna from s1 ) would help her get a job at the firm where she works but was instead told that she was going to get disbarred because her conduct could affect her ability to work
went to Verdant and drunkenly trashed everyone, especially Thea, jabbed at Oliver and his partnership with Felicity,Â
fell on the floor passed out when she got home, thought she saw Sara ( her âdeadâ sister ) ( who she actually really saw and did not hallucinate )
passed out not because of an overdose ( unlike what was first believed by literally everyone ) but because she was poisoned by a member of the League of Assassins
her mother was kidnapped by Nyssa while Laurel was still at the hospital
âLaurelâs inside, shes losing her mind.â â Quentin about Laurel
found out that her sister didnât died during the ship wreck and that she was very much alive and back in her life after six years
âYou stole my life away from me.â â drunk Laurel to Sara just before she threw a glass at the door ( drunk Laurel has a really good aim thoÂ
decided to organize a family dinner at her apartment to make amends and try to make things better ( especially between her parents )
Sara invited Oliver without permission
Laurel realized that her parents would never ever get back together even though she had briefly hoped they would ( and was extremely happy and excited about it )
found out that Sara and Oliver are together
fled her own apartment because she couldnât take it anymore, Oliver followed after her, Laurel blamed him for things going badly
âAnd is you losing your job, doing drugs and being a drunk my fault? Is that your familyâs fault? Or are you gonna blame Tommy for dying?â â congrats on victim-blaming Oliver
âWhy donât you have a drink? Get wasted. Go to Verdant. Iâll pay for it.â â Oliver doing the equivalent of Quentin pushing a bottle in Laurelâs hand in s3
âAnd so, when I saw you... so beautiful and so alive... I realized that Iâm not those things. Not anymore.â â gorgeous Laurel apologizing to Sara ( followed by almost begging her not to hate her )
two AA meetings a day
offered back a place at the DAâs office as the prosecutor on the Frank Bertinelli trial â trial which was a sham and a trap to get Helena Bertinelli to Starling so they could arrest her
caught in a hostage situation by Helena Bertinelli
almost threw out thirty days of sobriety and called herself expendable decoration ( the woman in black, aka Sara, is the one who told her to be strong and prove her sister, aka Sara, that she was strong )
honest with Helena about Tommyâs death and her addictions with the hope to stop Helena from killing people
âOnce you let the darkness inside, it never comes out.â
was held at gun point by Helena and was once again caught between the vigilantes and the police shootings
blackmailed the DA so she could get her job back
learned through Slade Wilson that Oliver ( formerly the love of her life and best friend ) is the Arrow
her father was arrested and sent to jail because of his work with the Arrow
blackmailed the DA ( again ) to get her father out of jail after he was beaten up there, and got him back on the job
loss of a close family friend ( Moira Queen )
faced with Oliver wanting to offer himself up and die to save her and the ones he loves
which happened after she discovered that she had been right about Sebastian Blood from the beginning, meaning that she lost her job for basically nothing
almost got killed by one of Sladeâs Mirakura soldier after she hit him with a pipe to save Oliver
was separated from Oliver and trapped in a collapsed tunnel after Oliver shot an explosive arrow so the debris would stop Sladeâs soldier
had to shoot an explosive arrow to save her own life despite having never in her life learned archery ( knowing that messing up could have killed her )
was knocked out at the precinct by Nyssa
was kidnapped by one of Sladeâs soldiers right after getting back to consciousness because Slade had beef with Oliver
heavily implied that if Slade hadnât mentioned also having Felicity, Oliver wouldnât have âplayed Sladeâs gameâ and would have left Laurel to him
held at gun point ( again )
had to say goodbye to Sara, who was going back to Nanda Parbat with Nyssa ( Sara giving her jacket to Laurel being their second to last interaction before Sara gets killed in s3 )
her father nearly dying in her arms because of internal bleeding caused by one of Sladeâs soldier ( the one who kidnapped her )
#laurel lance#i'm tagging this as#anti arrow#just in case#oh i'll probably be doing the same for the other seasons#h | laurel#it's also 'implied' that i hate lauriver#and that quentin is a bad father sometimes#at least to laurel
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This Night Chapter 7
TITLE: This Night AUTHOR: Mikimoo RECIPIENT: tristen84 PAIRING: JayDick RATING: Mature
WARNINGS: Off screen Non-Con, murder of innocent young people, violence
SUMMARY: The Red Hood and Officer Grayson are on the same case. A small misstep has far reaching consequences for them both.
Thank you to burkesl17 for the beta!
Chapter 1, 2 3 4 5Â 6
âNo!â Jason said, as firmly as he could without yelling. He waved Dick's discharge papers at him for emphasis. âYou're not going back there, you are going the fuck home to recover!â
âI can't leave this unfinished, Jason!â Dick had his most obstinate face on, and was using Jason's full name which always meant trouble.
âYou're on leave, dammit. You'll be met at the airport for a full debrief with the FBI agents taking over the case, and then you will be flown back to the Haven or Gotham where you will be further debriefed and put on leave until you are fully recovered!â So maybe Jason was not doing so great at the not yelling.
âFine,â Dick said, the jut of his jaw hadn't lessened even a fraction and the stubborn anger in his gaze was still going at full throttle.
âThat doesn't mean you can come back as Nightwing either, Dick.â Jason growled, he could already see he was going to have to stake out the bullheaded jackasses apartment to prevent it. âIf you even think about it, I'll tell Bruce you're not fit.â He waved a hand as betrayal flooded Dick's face. âNot the specifics, but enough that he'll bench you.â
âYou think he can? I'm a grown man, I work with him now, not for him.â
âDo you? Do you really, Dick? If he says jump you'll jump and we both know it.â
Dick huffed loudly, like a surly teenager. âYou know me so well, Jason?â
âStop being such an ass about this, give yourself a break.â Â
Dick looked like he was gearing up to really let rip, and Jason didn't honestly think he could handle it, so he made an effort to rein in his own temper. âLook, Just take a bit of time, then we will go in together, okay? I'll even play by your rules.â And he would. Mostly because he suspected Wilson was going to be pretty damn thorough with wiping out the Santa Prisca portion of  ZK12. That left the American and European parts â Jason was planning to have a hand in some of that take down, he just had to bide his time.
Dick rubbed his hands over his face then looked at Jason with slightly wild eyes. âI can't sit around and do nothing, Jay. I can't, I'll lose it.â He ran a hand back through his hair, tugging on it sharply. He was acting like a caged animal.
âI'm not saying don't do anything useful, Dick. I'm just saying that heading back to the Santa Prisca strong-hold is not going to be productive â if we send someone there it shouldn't be us, not now at least.â
âWhy? We're the best qualified,â Dick insisted.
Jason took a calming breath. He wanted to go too, but he didn't want Dick to go. That meant he had to play a little dirty. âWe're too emotionally involved, we nearly died.â
âNearly dying is basically every other day for us, so don't give me that bullshit.â
âYeah, it is, but what happened to you terrified me!â Jason burst out, unable to contain himself. âI thought you were dead multiple times and I don't want to fucking deal with it yet, okay? I know if I go, I wonât be fully on the ball and I am not going to give those fuckers the satisfaction of getting one over on me again!â He took a calming breath. âWhen I go after ZK12, I'm going to be prepared and I'm going to get them all.â
Dick looked guilty now, which wasn't want Jason had been aiming for with his sudden honesty. This whole conversation was exhausting him. âDick, Â just take a step back, what if our positions were reversed? What if, God forbid, it was Roy or Cassandra or Tim who had just been through what you have? How would you feel about them going back?â
âI would be afraid,â Dick admitted, after a moment clearly battling with himself. âI'd suggest they sat out until they were recovered.â
âRight. And then you would hare off and do it yourself. I get that. But I'm not asking you to stop trying to bring these fucks down, just leave the fighting part to others until you are back to full functionality. There is a shit ton of research to do â we need to get the entire organization, and we know very little about their operations in Europe. Let's do this smart, okay?â
Amazingly, Dick nodded and hobbled forward to snatch the discharge forms out of Jason's grip. âSince when did you get all sensible and shit?â he asked, signing the papers with a slightly shaky hand.
Jason was even more sure he was doing the right thing by preventing Dick from throwing himself back into this particular fight. He was still sick and emotionally wounded, getting him to take care of himself was going to be a challenge and Jason suspected it was going to be up to him. Whoopee.
âI've always been sensible, you people are the ones with dust for brains,â Jason said with a dismissive sniff.
âOh, don't give me that, little brother, Â I can list a bunch of times you've been an idiot or just gone completely loco. I mean, the whole Murder!Batman shtick was pretty bonkers, and that one time you blew a hole in the GCPD to get at a guy in the lock up, then murdered him in front of the damn cops.â
âI'll give you the times when I was actually out of my mind, big deal. And that guy abused four children that we know of so he deserved it. Other than those very specific occasions, I've been very sensible.â
âYou set fire to a nun,â Dick said, smugly, as he took off towards the door with a wobbly gait.
Jason followed behind him, waving his arms in indignation. âI did not!â he said, hotly. âI set fire to some textbooks, the nun was accidental collateral damage, and it was just her habit that got a bit singed â no real harm done.â
âThat makes it okay then.â
âWell, they never sent me back to that group home that's for sure,â Jason grumbled. Â âHow did you even find out about that?â It must have been from Bruce, the fucking traitor, although saying that â Bruce had been pretty forthcoming about the trouble Dick had gotten himself into during his years at the manor â the list of unfortunate incidents had been surprisingly expansive. He grinned. Â âIf it's a competition between us, I can remind you of a fair few occasions where you have my indiscretions beat.â
âLike what?â Dick handed over his papers at the front desk and leaned heavily on the wall, trying to pretend he wasn't exhausted from the short walk.
That didn't mean Jason was going to take pity on him. âWhen you were fifteen, you and Roy got drunk at a Wayne Charity Gala, and you pissed off a balcony and onto the guests having a smoke round back.â
âThat was Roy's fault!â Dick had gone a very fetching shade of pink.
âAs I heard it, from Bruce, you knew exactly what you were doing. You managed to get a direct hit on Mr. Slate, the man responsible for signing the papers that had given the CPS permission to take you away from the circus and then for placing you in Juvie instead of  proper foster care. So, tell me again how it was an accident?â
Dick looked sheepish, âI was was angry and drunk enough I probably would have done worse if Roy hadn't talked me down.â
âHarper being the voice of reason? Wonders will never cease.â
âSort of reason, I did still piss on a bunch of people.â
âSounds like something I would have done, to be honest,â Jason didn't bother to hide his admiration.
âYou didn't have the monopoly on teenage angst and problems with rage, Jason. I was just lucky enough to survive mine.â Dick winced at his own words and a frown began to form on his face again.
Jason wanted to reach out to him. He wished he had known that younger Dick, really known him rather than what passed for their relationship a few years later. They probably would have burnt the manor to cinders or razed the city to the ground, but it would have been cathartic - misery loved company after all.
âWell,â he said, ignoring the shadowed look on Dick's face. âYour worst offence by far was when you crashed Bruce's 1954 Bentley when you were twelve and he grounded you for life. You should still be grounded.â
âI thought because it was old he wouldn't miss it as much!â
âA classic Bentley, Dick, practically vintage! And you murdered it, that's sacrilege in car terms.â
âWho did Grayson murder?â Ruiz joined them, still bruised but looking much better than the last time they had seen her.
âBruce Wayne's car, a beautiful, beautiful car,â Jason told her as Dick stepped forward to give her a tight hug.
âDon't be such a sap, Grayson,â Ruiz said, her eyes suspiciously bright. âWe have a long road ahead of us.â
âYeah. What are you going to do? You can't return to work while this is on going, it's too dangerous.â Dick told her, repeating the exact thing Jason had just spent forty minutes arguing with him about. The man was clearly born to drive him crazy.
âI don't know,â she admitted. âMy family have gone to stay with my mother, so they are safe for the moment. I can't allow them to be at risk, but I don't want to give up this fight either. My superiors want me in witness protection, but we don't know if even that is going to be safe, they have people in the force.â
âI know,â Dick said, unhappily. âLook, maybe I can pull some strings, get you out the country for a few months. Both the FBI and Interpol have an interest in this case and keeping you alive to testify is going to be crucial for them.â
âAnd how will you do that, Grayson?â Ruiz asked, sharply.
âBruce Wayne has a lot of influence and a lot of cash. And he is going to be grateful you rescued his son,â Jason told her.
âWhich son?â she shot back and Dick's eyebrows climbed so high they disappeared under the ridiculous fall of his hair.
âWhat's this?â he asked.
âI told some bad guys I was Bruce's illegitimate son in order to stop them shooting me.â Jason shrugged âI'm not, by the way,â he told Ruiz.
âHmm,â Ruiz said, clearly unconvinced. âYou're something to him though, and to each other. You don't risk the things you risked just for an acquaintance.â
âHe would,â Jason jerked a thumb at Dick, who scoffed at him and made a face.
âSo would you, you  hadn't even met Ruiz and you helped me go back for her. At least I have the excuse that it's my job.â
âIt's mine too, In a manner of speaking.â
âYou're both idiots, is what youâre telling me?â Ruiz said, with a wry grin.
âBasically,â Dick agreed with an easy smile that was mostly real.
âAnd you both know each other from Bludhaven?â
âYou are a relentless woman,â Jason sighed. âYes, we know each other, have done for awhile â I guess you could say I'm a PI, like Dick said, so our paths have crossed professionally. But we also know each other via-â he scrunched up his nose trying to think of a good description. âMutual family,â he finished at last.
Ruiz looked perplexed. âOkay, I'm not sure if that makes sense or not, but Iâll take what I'm given, for now.â
They headed towards the hospital entrance, where men in suits were waiting to take them to the airport. Jason really hoped the cover identity he and Dick had cobbled together for him held up under scrutiny. The internet connection had not been the best, or the most secure. Luckily they had access to some emergency pre-prepared electronic paperwork, provided for all of them by Alfred and Babs, to use when caught on the fly. Hopefully it was good enough to at least get them back to American soil.
 They landed back in Gotham International at mid morning a few days later. All the debriefing had been grueling, but their story had held up. Neither they nor Ruiz had spoken much about the torture, just about the drugs and vague descriptions of beatings. They had agreed to keep Wilson's name out of it, just described him as some sort of private contractor fighting against the cartel who had helped them in the hopes of gaining information and cash. The story overall had been a little shaky, and there were some agents who clearly knew they were leaving stuff out, but the three of them held firm and stuck to their story.
Now it was time to go home and start recovering a little. That and put things into motion to get Ruiz to safety. She had balked at coming to America, but Jason figured they could negotiate with her to stay for a few months, or go somewhere else â Mexico or South America perhaps. Either way, they would make sure they had people to keep an eye on her wherever she ended up.
They stepped off the small private plane that had been provided for them to find Alfred waiting by one of Bruce's big grey cars, the winter sunlight hitting the bonnet like fireworks. Jason was torn between relief at being home and trepidation of having to face his family, even if it was just Alf.
He hesitated, he didn't want to keep his feet moving towards the car. either did Dick it seemed, he was tense and practically vibrating with anxiety as their boots hit the tarmac. And Jason couldn't leave him.
His warped sense of guilt and his over-protective instincts were going to fuck him up. But there was no way around it that he could see. His need to be there for Dick in some undefined way was going to take him right back into the jaws of his past, which was the last place he wanted to be after the few weeks they had just had.
âHey, Alf,â Dick said, with a tight and unconvincing grin. âThanks for picking us up.â
It was clear the fake cheer wasn't missed, as Alfred nodded a greeting. âMaster Dick, I'm glad to see you home in one piece. Master Jason, a rare pleasure.â
Jason flushed and raised a hand in a half-hearted wave. He had not been prepared for this, he should have been. But he wasn't.
If he thought that was bad, sliding into the warm interior of the car and coming face to face with Bruce was like a nightmare come to life. For years he had dreamed of bumping into him while in his underwear or other awkward situations. This was way, way worse.
He froze, staring at Bruce's impassive face. Dick followed him into the car, still exchanging platitudes with Alfred. He had clearly expected Jason to have moved further inside and sat practically on his lap, making them both jump in surprise. Dick tumbled back out onto the tarmac. Â Jason remained where he was, eyes no doubt comically wide.
Bruce looked utterly mystified, or at least there was a confused furrow in his brow which conveyed as much.
âDick?â he asked, âare you alright?â
The deep rumble of his voice, so totally different from Wilson's smug tones, made feeling crash into Jason like high tide against the rocks. He was usually so much more fortified for any meetings with Bruce â but now he was so raw from everything that had happened, he felt like just being in the man's presence could break him apart.
Dick's head appeared in the doorway, he was slightly pink from embarrassment. âHey, Bruce,â He said, not meeting his eyes â always a fatal mistake. Instead he looked at Jason âWhat the hell, Jay? Move up.â
Jason moved. Which left him facing Bruce in the broad interior of the car. He wished it was Batman there to greet them instead. He knew how he felt about Batman, wasn't so conflicted and full of doubt.
Dick slid in beside him and shut the door, taking a moment to fiddle with his seat belt, perhaps attempting to collect himself, as Jason was also desperately trying to do. He hadn't expected this either.
Bruce was impassive, but he was watching Dick carefully. He may not be showing anything on his face, but he was clearly cataloging Dick's slightly odd behavior. Â Jason in turn, watched him for any sign he was going to do anything to upset Dick. Bruce often struggled to express his concern in a helpful or constructive way, and instead went for bluntness, irritation or flinty silence. Jason was aware that in this, he and the old man were very much alike, and he hated it.
âTo what do we owe this honor?â Jason said into the awkward pause, forcing the words out and trying his level best to keep his voice nice and even.
âYou fell off the grid for a week. First Dick takes off for work,â said with a surprising edge of scorn, "then I get the BPD knocking at my door saying he has been kidnapped, and to wait on a ransom that never came. I was concerned, ZK12 rarely return kidnap victims in good shape.â He didn't sound concerned, he sounded like he was placing an order in the Worldâs most mediocre restaurant. A clear sign he had probably been climbing the walls with worry. Â
âWhy didn't you come rescue him then?â Jason snapped in spite of himself.
âBecause I discovered you had also gone to Santa Prisca, and I decided the two of you together could probably take care of things, or at least let me know if that wasn't the case. At the time I believed no news was good news and you were both undercover. Was I wrong?â
And wow, to be giving that kind of trust, even in such a backhanded way, was so huge, so intense that Jason wouldn't know what to do with it on a good day. This however was not a good day. He had completely and utterly failed to do anything Bruce had put his faith in him doing.
He was surprised to find there were still new ways to feel completely crushed.
He sat mute and wide eyed staring at Bruce with his mouth slightly open, like a landed fish. What the fuck could he say? Could he say anything without having a complete emotional meltdown? He honestly wasn't sure.
âNo, you weren't wrong,â Dick said, his voice was thick, and he cleared his throat loudly. âI was careless and got caught, Jason rescued me. If he hadn't I might never have got out. They used a drug on me I'm unfamiliar with. We did have a look at the properties of it â Jason ran tests in the field to prevent side effects when he gave me antibiotics. We have all the data, if we run it through the computer in the cave I bet we can find trace hits in that people trafficking case from Gotham North last month â I wager that's what they were hitting the victims with and it wouldn't have shown up in any of the regular tests.â
And with that, Bruce allowed himself to be distracted. But Jason suspected it was only superficial, he was still watching them both very carefully. Dick was now making a good show of acting normal, but it had been a shaky enough start that Bruce was clearly suspicious. And Jason was acting far from normal too despite his best efforts, he was usually so full of piss and vinegar whenever they had contact that his silence was probably an even bigger warning sign than Dick's awkwardness. At least Dick could pass his off at embarrassment for his 'stupidity' in getting caught.
Taking the blame for what had happened was such a typical Dick thing. A month ago Jason would have sneered at it, mocked and berated him for his dumb-ass martyr complex. But now, he was covering for Jason's mistakes and not only that, he was blatantly forgiving them.
It was intolerable.
Suddenly Jason's skin felt itchy, like there were insects made of doubt and shame crawling all over him. He couldn't breathe in the damn car, he had to get out.
As they drew towards the intersection at 23rd and 12th Jason unbuckled his belt. Dick shot him a wide eyed glance, but before he could say anything, they stopped at the lights and Jason threw open the door, practically falling onto the sidewalk in his haste to escape. He heard Dick calling his name but he ignored it and took off as fast as his throbbing ankle could carry him.
He was running on instinct, down familiar alleys and side streets, vaulting the fence at old Martins place and twisting through the doorway of the abandoned grocery shop on the corner. When he finally came to a halt, close to one of his shabbier safe houses, all he could do was sink to the floor and try to breathe. He honestly couldn't deal with this, with any of it.
Fuck, Dick was taking things better than him. He needed a drink, but failing that, he needed to hit the streets and beat the fear and confusion out of himself.
 Evening found him pacing his safe house like a trapped beast. He was feeling terrible for abandoning Dick, and for the questions he had probably had to field on Jason's behalf. But the prospect of having to go to the manor to see him was not bearable, and unnecessary anyway. If he was there then he was safe and someone would be making sure he was looking after himself, but what was the probability of that actually being the case? It was far more likely he had gone home to Bludhaven like the annoying self sacrificing prick he was. And that meant that at best he would be moping and at worst, Nightwing would be preparing to hit the streets in an hour or so. And that was a recipe for disaster.
âFuck!â Jason chucked his half empty can of beer in the direction of the sink. It wasn't helping anyway, and any more and he wouldn't be able to suit up and hit the roof tops, let alone drive to the Haven. Which appeared to be what he was doing, judging by the fact he was already out of the door, keys to his bike in his hand.
He justified it to himself as he drove, if Dick was there, he would need watching because he was a moron. If he wasn't in the Haven, then his patch was undefended and Jason would be more use there than Gotham, which tended to be rather saturated with vigilantes these days.
It was a completely logical course of action.
He decided to scope out Dick's shitty apartment from the roof of the chicken shop across the way rather than knock on the door. Most of the apartment seemed dark, except for the hallway and bathroom lights. He was fairly sure even Dick would have remembered to switch his lights off before going away on a long term mission. Probably.
He would just wait for a bit, and then head out, that way he could cover all his bases. Jason flipped out his binoculars and settled back to watch.
âPapa Bat teach you those manners? Spying is pretty invasive, you know,â Dick said, from somewhere behind him, making Jason  jump and cuss colorfully before spinning round to face him.
Dick was dressed in ratty sneakers, leggings and a big warm sweater. He looked like he belonged on the rooftop as much as Nightwing did, like he owned it. But he also looked like a slob, and leggings? Really? Â Jason was surprised at the rush of warmth that overtook the embarrassment at having been caught stalking him.
âThe fuck you wearing, Dick?â he asked, with as much of a sneer as he could put in his voice.
Dick looked down at himself. âWhat these? Running tights. They're warmer than slacks or sweats and  better for clambering on rooftops.â
âUh huh.â
âWhatever, at least I'm not hanging around on freezing cold buildings and spying on people.â Â
âHow'd you know?â Jason asked.
Dick's lips twitched. âLucky guess. Although if I'm honest, this is the second spot I checked.â He shrugged. âI figured you might want to check up on me, you've been bizarrely attentive since we got to the hospital.â
âYeah, well,â Jason said, pointlessly. It was unnerving that he had been so transparent, even more so that he hadn't really noticed himself doing it. But he supposed all the hand holding and sappy shit had been a bit out of character.
âI have food inside, enough for two.â Dick pushed off the building he was leaning against and started towards the fire escape.
Jason was slightly perturbed he had apparently been such a sure thing Dick had even planned to feed him. He got up stiffly and followed. âYou didn't cook it though, right?â He asked as he swung down after Dick, who was scaling down the building effortlessly, despite his bad leg. âI've heard tales of your cooking, none were complimentary.â
âYeah, yeah,â Dick said, âthose stories have been greatly exaggerated. I'll have you know I'm a wizard with the microwave these days.â
Food was actually spaghetti bolognese, and although the sauce was mostly from a bottle, it was a  satisfying meal with the addition of mince and some frozen veg. The silence while they ate was companionable, and Jason felt at ease for the first time in far too long.
After dinner, Dick shoved the dishes into the sink and waved off Jason's offer to clean them, instead he ushered him through to the living room and sat on the big comfy chair, dislodging a small pile of dirty laundry and take-out menus.
Jason chose the sofa, which was relatively free of debris, he did find one of Dick's escrima sticks wedged behind the cushion, but that was the only offensive item. Dick flicked the TV on wordlessly, hunting thought he channels with a quiet determination. It was clear he didn't want to talk and Jason decided to give him his space.
âWhat horrifying show are you going to subject me to?â Â he asked, as Dick failed to settle on a channel.
Dick looked relieved, like he had been expecting Jason to insist on talking about things. Like he would.
âDunno,â he said, âmaybe this documentary about mermaids?â
âWhy the fuck would I want to watch that?â
âBecause mermaids, Jason. Who doesn't love mermaids?â
Jason hid a grin and leaned back in his seat, shoving aside a stack of messy note pads with his socked foot so he could rest it on the small coffee table. Dick didn't seem to care about the abuse of his furniture and swung his own legs over the arm of the chair. Curling into his ridiculous sweater and twitching his feet like he couldn't keep still.
It occurred to Jason that although Dick had made a good argument for the leggings, the true reason for his choice of attire might be a little more complicated. They were the closest thing to his Nightwing suit in terms of strong figure hugging material he could possibly get away with. The suit was more than just a costume, it was wrapped up with so much self. A shield, a comfort, it represented strength and safety.
It was the same reason Jason was wearing his old battered body armor under his shirt.
Both of them were still struggling to deal with all that had happened and all that was to come, and Jason was genuinely concerned about what lay ahead for Dick, who followed in the family footsteps and tended to deal with the bad shit by ignoring it or self flagellating.
It was going to be a hard road, but right now there was a scene of calm, and Jason found himself enjoying the easy silence as Dick sniggered at the TV and jiggled his legs around annoyingly.
There would be time to deal with the crap tomorrow, or the next day. For now he was just glad they were both home safe.
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And that's it for now! (sequels, prequels etc are in the works.)
Thank you for your patience, tristen84, I hope you enjoyed it! (only 4 months late this time!)
And thank you all for reading and for all the wonderful comments and kudos!
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